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#MOST BEAUTIFUL BLOND CAT
da-proti-toku-grem · 5 months
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Once again making a separate post for him because
✨Kitty ✨
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x
for the lovely @c28hunter and @khihi that are always there to scream about Jurček with me <3
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thegengarprincess · 2 months
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JURE GIRLYS/gn I HAVE A PROPOSAL :3: @da-proti-toku-grem @c28hunter @nyx-aira @king-krisu
What if one of us try N make (or buy smh like it cuz crochet ain’t cheap :,) N give it 2 him at a gig??-
✨✨✨
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numbaoneflaya · 1 year
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I kin assign you toga and sera <3
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some-bunniii · 2 months
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Lucifer in love with an artist reader
・❥ There’s only one good way to start the day… pancakes and ice cream.
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
warning: mild swearing
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You were awoken by something shifting against your chest. You stirred, adjusting slightly as you lay on your side. 
You let the covers slide around you, the cool touch of the pillow beneath your face made you smile sleepily. That’s right, you were in your bed snuggled warmly beneath your sheets. Which is not where you remembered falling asleep last night. 
Does that mean everything that happened yesterday was just a really weird dream? 
If it was, it was the most vivid dream you’ve ever had. And, it seemed a little too crazy to be real. Being thrown off a balcony and being seconds away from shooting a man, all in the same night, was not a usual day for you. 
Your brain was still foggy with sleep, and all you wanted to do was burrow your face farther into the pillow and drift off. Except, that pressure on your chest was making it hard to.
“KeeKee.. please, not right now..” You mumbled into the fabric, your voice laced with drowsiness. There was no response from the feline, but the form shifted slightly besides you, as if to nuzzle closer to you. 
Sometimes you’d find her sleeping beside you, but that was pretty rare. Even so, you weren’t going to let her ruin your beauty sleep. With gentle movements, you slowly slid your arm forward, and your fingers brushed against soft hair.
Your palms hit a firm surface beneath the silky strands. Did KeeKee always have this long of fur? Did she gain weight too? You only ignored your suspicions, and slowly pushed her off your chest, farther across the bed. Sighing happily, you pulled the covers closer to you, embracing its warmth. 
You felt something stir beside you, and the warm figure snuggled back into your chest. You groaned softly, you were too tired to take this attitude from the cat.
Lifting your arm again, your fingers quickly reached up and grasped the warm silhouette. This time, however, you let your hand travel down the form. Until you halted suddenly, your fingers grazing against something smooth and hairless. You didn’t remember KeeKee having any bald spots.
Slowly, you felt farther along. You could feel curves in the surface, cracks even. 
What in the worl-
“Is this how you plan to wake me every morning?” a voice grumbled sleepily through your fingers. 
Wait a second. There was a person in your bed?!
Your eyes shot open, the curtains thankfully covering the morning light from blinding you as you jumped out of the covers. Instinctively, your leg shot forward, kicking the stranger right in the side. He was sent tumbling off the bed with an audible “oomph,” and a heavy thump reverberated around the room. Followed by silence. 
You kneeled on top of the bed, heart pounding as your nerves settled. You blinked, you had recognized that voice. Had that been Lucifer?! 
You hurriedly crawled across the bed, your head peeking from off the side of it as you peered below you. Laying face down, was the familiar naked back of the fallen angel. His blonde hair messily spread across the wooden floor as he lay there motionless.
“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!! Are you okay?!” You yelled down to him. He stirred, his head nodding slowly under the hair. 
“You know, not too bad actually. Believe it or not, i’ve taken harder falls.” He mumbled against the wood. 
Lucifer shifted, rolling onto his back. He looked up at you, before blowing a few strands of hair out of his eyes. He looked totally fine, if not tired from the sudden awakening. A few rays of the morning light beamed through the window, casting some of his features in a red glow as he watched you. God, he was gorgeous. 
“I don’t remember falling asleep in my bed, what happened?” You asked him, slowly sitting up from your position. He mirrored you, lifting his torso from the ground. 
“You didn’t expect us to sleep in a chair all night, did you? I’d be cracking my back for days if that was the case. You look so peaceful when you sleep, so I couldn’t bother to wake you. But yes, I moved us to the bed.”
“So yesterday was real..” You whispered, 
“Uh, yeah. I killed a bunch of scumbags and saved you from becoming a splat on the pavement. Yesterday was definitely real.” 
Lucifer sat up fully, before getting to his feet. He stretched, raising his arms above his head before opening his mouth up in a yawn. He was already dressed in a pair of loose fitting sweat pants as he strolled to the bathroom. Did he put those on using magic?
You stood from the edge of the bed, quickly walking to your dresser and pulling out a casual outfit. You began slipping it on, before turning towards the open bathroom door.
You watched Lucifer’s back flex slightly as he bent over to wash his face in the sink, your eyes drinking in his figure. Lucifer looked nothing like the ancient paintings visualized him to be. Your brain immediately recalled the image of Alexandre Cabanel’s famous painting, ‘The Fallen Angel’.
It depicted Lucifer as wide-shouldered, toned from head to toe with thick muscles. Nice calves too. Yet, standing here before you, he embodied an angel much more than he did in that painting. Elegant, serene, otherworldly. 
Like how the candlelight perfectly illuminated his pearly-white skin, as if he was being basked in moonlight. Or how his touch was like velvet sheets against your skin, soft and delicate as he ran his fingers down your waist. 
He exuded a certain feminine grace, that enraptured you when those pretty eyes of his sent you looks of adoration as you rambled about your current fixations, or gave him more lessons in art history. You smiled warmly at the thought, he was precious to you, no doubt. 
“You know what, I’m thinking.. pancakes! We’ll finally put that big kitchen downstairs to use and make some breakfast.” Lucifer broke you out of your thoughts, as he walked up to you, pulling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Damn, did he change without you even noticing again? 
You smiled as he approached, the thought of food making your stomach growl. You were unbelievably hungry, seeing as there wasn’t exactly time last night to stop for a meal. 
“That sounds like a good idea, we’ll get everyone else in on it too and eat together, a big hazbin-family breakfast.” 
Lucifer nodded as he turned away from you, his eyes scanning the room. “Which reminds me, that means I can give Charlie the tuxedo…” He trailed off, turning to you slowly, a look of panic on his features.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.
Lucifer rubbed a hand down his face, growling at himself. “I must have left the bag with her suit back at the club! Ugh, I'm such an idiot.” 
“It’s still early, it won’t take you more than a minute to get across the city. Go get her a new one.” You commanded, pointing towards the balcony doors in your room. 
Lucifer followed your finger, and then nodded quickly. “You’re right, I’ll go do that.” Quickly, he adjudged his bow-tie, before heading for the doors. 
It wasn’t until his hand was just inches from the handle, did you see the rather large reddish-purple mark sticking out from the crook of his neck. Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed as you realized what exactly caused the bruise. How did you not notice that before?! 
Quickly, you ran up to him and grabbed his shoulders, turning him to face you. “Wait! You.. well-you, um… got something on your neck?” 
He regarded you for a moment, confusion written across his face. “Something.. on my neck?” 
Your cheeks heated again, and you quickly reached up to grab the top of his shirt. On even further inspection, and a slight adjustment of his collar, you could make out the fainted curved indents of teeth marks along his collar bone.
Did you bite him that hard last night? You shouldn’t have done that. What if Charlie saw it? That would be so awkward. 
“From.. last night,” you finally uttered, “when I got a little carried away.” 
Lucifer’s gaze narrowed, and then they widened slightly as he understood. A smirk tugged on his lips as he backed away from your grasp. “So?” 
“What do you mean ‘so’? It’s not normal for people to be walking around with hickeys all over them for everyone to gawk at!” You exclaimed, crossing your arms.
“Why, so they won’t know I had you screaming my name, drenched on top of that table?” He asked, motioning towards the very same dining table that you had been laid over in pure bliss the night before.
You quickly averted your gaze to stop a mental picture forming, and instead met his eyes. Sending him a glare for his bluntness. Walking across the room, you bent down and pulled his overcoat from the side of your bed. Brushing off any dirt, you made your way back to Lucifer.
Silently, you wrestled him into the white garment. He stood there and watched as you adjusted his tall collar, trying your best to hide any love marks. After a little more fussing, you felt satisfied with your work and stepped back. 
“There, you’re ready to go! Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to go remind everyone that I am alive.” You spoke. Last night, Lucifer had told you Angel Dust had been dropped in the lobby. It was late enough where everyone should have been asleep, and since nobody came to look for you after that, you assumed Angel had passed out and was probably working through a nasty hangover somewhere in the hotel.
You leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to Lucifer’s lips, before nudging him towards the balcony doors. He turned, pulling them open and crossing the threshold. You stood in the entryway, watching him stroll to the black, metal railing. He glanced over the side, contemplating for a moment.
“Now, watch how the pro does it.” Lucifer teased as he turned to face you, his back leaning against the railing. With a little boost, he flipped himself backwards and vaulted over the metal bars. Your eyes widened in shock as he began to fall.
Right as his feet left the balcony, you ran to the railing peering over the side as you watched him plummet to the ground. Beneath him, a large, golden portal swirled alive waiting for him. 
He waved up to you just as he crossed it, the portal swallowing him up and vanishing without a trace. You smiled, shaking your head at his little performance before turning back towards the doors. 
For a few more minutes, you were busy tidying yourself up and trying to look presentable. You quickly squeezed some soap out of the little yellow ducky on the sink counter, and washed your hands and face. Soon, you noticed you were also adorned with a few love marks from Lucifer, and you sat in front of the mirror trying to hide them the best you could. 
Feeling satisfied with your work, you turned away and headed for the doorway that led into the rest of the hotel. Grasping the handle, you slowly cracked the door open, peeking your head out slightly as you listed.
You could hear loud voices down the halls, in the direction of the lobby. There were multiple of them as if everyone was gathered in the same room, you exhaled a breath before straightening. Time to face the music. 
Heading down the stairs, you strolled through the hallways. The voices became more and more audible as you closed in on the large, open room.
“-and then, I looked behind them and there was this guy all bloody and shit, pointing a gun right at Lucifer! I barely saw anything else happen b’for I was sucked into this.. golden portal or something.” Angel Dust’s voice echoed through the lobby, as he retold the events of last night. He was standing in front of the T.V, the residents of the hotel listening from the couches circled around him. They leaned in, engrossed in his story. 
“Next thing I knew, my ass hit the floor right here. God.. I was just so out of it I practically passed out where I was. I don’t remember seeing either of them after that.. hey! you!” Angel’s eyes widened as he noticed you walking towards them. Suddenly, the entire hotel’s gaze was locked onto you.
Charlie quickly shot up from the couch, hurrying over to you. She scanned your figure, searching for any injuries as you stopped before her. After noting nothing serious was wrong with you, she took your hand, gripping it tightly. “Where have you been? Angel just told us everything that happened! Are you okay?” 
“Don’t worry, I'm fine. I wasn’t hurt at all.” You assured the princess, smiling at her. Turning to the spider-demon, you scanned him for any injuries as well. “How about you, Angel. Are you okay?”
“Pfft, yeah. I’m okay. Just a lil shaken up, especially after watching you almost get shot. It seemed you got a good sleep, though.” 
“Wait, you’ve been here this whole fucking time. Did anyone else know that?” Vaggie called from the couch, crossing her arms as she stood up. 
“I did. They’ve been here all night.” Nifty spoke from the floor, her single eye staring into you. 
How did she know that? Did Nifty.. hear anything?
“Uhm.. yes, that’s right. Yesterday was just rough. So, I went to sleep right away.” You answered, lying through your teeth.
“And my dad?” Charlie questioned.
You shrugged, “I have no clue.”
“Well, at least our dear friend is back safe and sound!” A familiar voice exclaimed from next to you. You jumped slightly, turning to see Alastor and his award-winning smile as he looked at you. “Charlie insisted that I come find you, but I assured her you are capable of handling your own affairs. Especially, with our lovely king to protect you.”
You smiled slightly at him, “Yes, indeed. I’m sorry for not coming to see you guys sooner. I just got.. distracted.” 
“With what?” Angel asked, an eyebrow raised and hands on his hips. You paused, before opening your mouth to speak.
You weren’t able to get a word out before you heard a thumping coming from the front doors of the hotel. Everyone turned towards the noise, and through the stained glass, you could make out the silhouette of a rather tall hat peeking from the bottom of the glass.
“Well, ain’t that a little too good of timing.” Husk grumbled from the bar, as he leaned over the counter to get a look at the doorway. You silently agreed, that was fast. 
Charlie recognized the familiar figure as well, and quickly ran to the door. She yanked it open, and there he was. Lucifer stood, adorned in his full outfit, a pink bag in his hand as he strode into the room. Next to you, you swore Alastor’s grip on his cane tightened. 
“Charlie, good morning! How are you doing, sweetheart?” Lucifer beamed as he embraced her, who accepted the hug gratefully.
“I’m good, dad. But, what about you? I heard what happened! Did you kill people?” She eyed him with a firm stare, as if in disapproval of his actions.
Lucifer shrugged, “Only bad people, I had to protect your spider-friend over there. You should keep a better eye on him.”
“Apparently,” Charlie sighed, glancing at Angel behind them before turning back to her father, “and where have you been?”
Lucifer’s gaze momentarily landed on you, and you shook your head slightly. ‘Don’t say anything about it,’ you commanded him through your eyes. Especially not with everyone in the room, hungry for more information. 
“Oh, wellllll, I was just in town and snagged this for you!” Lucifer lifted up the pink bag, a nervous smile on his lips as he held it out for Charlie to take.
Eyeing it curiously, Charlie gently took it from his hands. She peered into it, her eyes widening as she reached in and lifted the garment from its wrapping. 
It was that same red suit that you had eyed through the glass display the day before, gold lapels shimmered in the light above. It was very beautiful, and you thought it would look good against Charlie’s ivory skin. 
Charlie didn’t say anything, instead, she just stood there. The tuxedo in her grip, opened fully to reveal the entire garment. Her fingers lightly trailed down the front of it, grazing across the buttons and textured sleeves. Her eyes were unreadable, a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite place.
“Did you.. buy this for me?” She asked after a moment, looking up at Lucifer. He met her gaze, seemingly a little nervous from her reaction. 
“Well, you said the one you had was getting a bunch of wear and tear, so I thought that would look perfect on you. Do.. you like it?” 
“I love it!” Charlie exclaimed with glee, she set the suit aside and pulled her father into another bear hug. “Thank you so much! It's wonderful, especially since it’s from you!” 
Lucifer exhaled a sigh of relief at her words, he tightened his arms around her, trying to capture every second of her loving gesture in his hold. He smiled warmly, and for a moment it looked like he was going to tear up. 
He didn’t, instead he pulled away, straightening his back. He cleared his throat, rubbing at his face before looking back at Charlie. The adoration in his eyes was on full display, and if anyone ever doubted that the mighty king didn’t love his daughter, you’d slap them.
Adjusting his collar, Lucifer turned towards the group of onlookers. “Now, who wants some pancakes?” 
Everyone seemed to perk at that, and Nifty hopped from her spot next to Alastor, raising her hand in excitement. 
“As long as they are sssstrawberry pancakesss!” Sir. Pentious declared as he rose from his seat, slithering towards the swinging doors, where the large kitchen lay behind. His little eggs waddling after him, a chorus of ‘oh boy!’s rose from the shells.
“Cmon,” Husk beckoned Angel Dust as he left the bar, “Let's get something in your stomach to fight that hangover of yours.”
“Oh, yes please” Angel smiled, joining the bartender. Even Alastor seemed interested in joining them in the other room, as he slowly followed behind the group. 
“I’m kinda feeling waffles today.” Vaggie spoke up, her hand entwined with Charlie’s as they walked. 
“We can make whatever you wish,” you responded, smiling at her, “except, maybe not eggs. At least with the company we’re keeping.” 
Pushing open the red doors, the flooring shifted into large, white marble tiles. The room was stuffed with cabinets and pantries, multiple fridges also dotted its perimeter. Long, creamy-white stone countertops lined the walls, as well as a large kitchen island in the center of the space. 
There was an empty space on the other side of the room, big enough to hold a large dining table and chairs. It was actually a great place to do something like that, but where could 
Behind you, Lucifer was pulling different ingredients out of the fridge. The shelves were surprisingly well stocked, even the pantries above as he continued to pull out items of importance.
“Dad, shouldn’t you take off your coat?” Charlie asked beside him, as she tied an apron around her waist. You tensed, slowly pivoting to their direction.
Lucifer halted, a box of baking powder hanging in mid-air between his fingers. His gaze snapped to you, then back to Charlie. You were desperately hoping no one could see the sweat beading down your forehead.  
“You’re right,” Lucifer started, as he placed the baking powder on the counter, “I can’t cook with such loose sleeves.” 
He snapped his fingers, and it seemed like the coat began to melt against his skin, shifting into a white turtleneck. The long neck sleeve covered the hickeys that peppered the sides of his throat, continuing to hide your previous entanglement. And, damn, he looked really nice in that outfit too. 
Tying on a red apron with the words ‘Kiss the chef’ embroidered on the front. After pulling up his sleeves, Lucifer began to pull out mixing bowls and other utensils. 
“Just you wait, Charlie, after today you’ll never want anyone else’s pancakes again. My recipe is the best there is.” He spoke, puffing out his chest slightly as he addressed his daughter. 
Charlie only laughed softly, pulling out a box containing waffle mix as she sidled up next to her dad. “I don’t doubt that one bit!” 
As the two continued prepping to cook, you turned to grab an apron of your own. As you walked to the wooden hooks hanging on the wall, you took note of the others around you. 
Angel, Husk, and Sir. Pentious huddled together over another counter, a carton of milk and a jar of strawberry jam laid in front of them.
“How ‘bout we make ya some strawberry milk while we wait, snake boy?” He asked, a playful smile on his lips. Sir. Pentious nodded quickly, his hood raised in happiness. 
Using a tablespoon to take a few scoops out of the jar, he plopped them into an empty cocktail mixer that he borrowed from the bar. Pouring in the milk, he placed the lid on the mixer, before handing it to Husk. 
With a few shakes—and a couple of party tricks consisting of him catching the mixer behind his back, and spinning it across his forearm—the lid was popped off, and Husk poured the bright pink liquid into the glass cup in front of Sir. Pentious. 
Both demons clapped for the bartender, who smiled proudly at the reaction. Sir. Pentious gingerly lifted the glass to his lips, before taking a small sip. After a moment, eyes lit up, a large smile on his face.
He took another large gulp, before thanking Angel Dust and Husk for the drink. 
“Oh, and don’t forget about my egg boisss.” Sir. Pentious turned to Angel Dust, pointing at the small group of eggs looking enviously up at the drink in his claws. 
Angel looked down, his eyes darting to the ingredients in front of him, before he simply shrugged. “Alright, who’s thirsty?” 
“I would like some, please!” Frank yelled excitedly, the eggs behind him jumping in place with large smiles on their faces. 
Angel Dust chuckled, turning away to grab more glasses. Husk was already preparing the scoops of jam, licking a small mess of the red foodstuff from his claws. 
Grabbing the apron from the hook, you adjusted it to your figure, tying it tight behind your back. Next to you, Vaggie was holding a knife in her hand. She was looking down, a firm gaze aimed at Nifty.
“No, Niff. This is not a place to run around with a knife. You can get it back after breakfast.” 
Nifty’s shoulders drooped, a frown on her face as she walked away. She passed by Alastor, who stood silently, watching the bustling group of demons. Wasn’t he going to join in? He was technically part of the Hazbin family. 
Slowly, you approached him, and his gaze snapped to you. His smile widened as he turned to you, the cane at his side rolling between his fingers. 
“Ah, hello there, my friend! Good to see you alive and well, ha-ha,” His eyes squinted as he tilted his head at you, “what can I do for you today?” 
“Don’t you want some food? We’ll be cooking soon. It doesn’t have to be breakfast, I think we have enough here to make whatever you want.” 
Alastor actually contemplated your question for a moment, his eyes staring off in thought. “Hm, well, there was something I had in mind, but the seasoning it needs is not in my possession anymore.” 
“What happened to it?” You asked curiously.
“I simply gave it to someone more in need of it than I. Hopefully, she’ll be putting good use to it.”
A lady friend? You wanted to ask about this ‘someone’, but felt prying wouldn’t get you anywhere with the mysterious overlord. Instead, you beckoned him to follow as you walked towards the counter space Lucifer and Charlie were situated at. 
You both stopped at the creamy-white marbled island. On its surface, was a large recipe book and different ingredients spread across. Alastor had to like something here, even if it wasn’t a decaying deer.
“Let’s see.. we could do french toast, yogurt parfaits, breakfast burritos, oh! We even could make hash browns! What do you think?”
Alastor bent down to look besides you, his eyes scanning the pages. He opened his mouth to speak, before his gaze snapped to another demon coming into view.
“Darling, i’ve finished the pancake mix. I was thinking you could…” Lucifer stopped, locking eyes with the Radio Demon. A frown formed on his lips, and his brow furrowed. “Oh. It’s you.” 
That smile Alastor held widened, as he straightened himself and turned towards the fallen angel. You grimaced, not again.
“Your majesty! What a pleasure to see you this hellish morning, I apologize for not being able to greet you when you arrived earlier.”
“A tragedy.” Lucifer responded mildly, before his eyes settled on you. 
“Well isn’t this nice! The four of us, all working together to make this breakfast special.” Charlie appeared besides her father, a smile on her lips as she tried to lighten the situation.
“Yes, I was just asking Alastor what else he thinks we should make.” You nodded along, before turning to the demon for his input.
“It appears your menu contains a less-than-ideal amount of meat, my friend. Perhaps, some bacon roll-ups? They were a staple for meals back in my days on earth. Very simple as well, just cream cheese, bread, and bacon!”
You were aware of what he was talking about. They were made by putting cream cheese on a slice of bread, before using a strip of bacon to roll it into a ball. You’d spear it with a toothpick and bake it for about twenty minutes, and wala, an odd delicacy.
“That is a great idea! Isn’t it, dad?” Charlie asked, nudging her father with her elbow, prodding for a response.
“It sounds kind of gross.” 
“Dad!” Charlie turned, a slight growl in her voice. “Say something nice!” 
“Bacon is much better than venison, though!” Lucifer quickly responded, following his daughter’s demand. You place a hand to your face, sighing at his antics. A hint of smile played on your lips as you walked forward, pulling Lucifer away by the arm.
Charlie turned back to Alastor, their conversation inaudible as you walked away. You went to the opposite side of the kitchen, where the bowl full of pancake batter lay. Flour messily covered the countertop, 
“You two need to learn to get along, you bicker like an old married couple.” You said after a few moments.
Lucifer shot you a look, visibly distraught by your comment. “That guy gets on my nerves! If it weren’t for Charlie liking him so much, I'd smite him.” 
“Yeah, yeah, tough guy,” you teased, leaning against him. You both sat there for a few moments, silently indulging in each other's presence. Later, you’d ask to seek his company in the privacy of your room. For now, you pulled away, grabbing the mixing bowl.
“So, what did you need my help with?” 
“I thought you’d like to give the pancakes a little.. shape,” he started, turning towards the stove and spinning the dial, “use that artistic talent of yours and make a delicious masterpiece, hm?” 
You perked, he wants you to make pancake art? What a wonderful idea! This was something you have never done before, but you’ve seen enough videos to imitate it. “I’ll go get some dark food coloring, and another mixing bowl.”
Lucifer began placing pans onto the stove burners, placing small amounts of butter in each. They sizzled as the pan began to heat. You stood besides him, slowly stirring the batter as you hummed to the tune of ‘innsbruck, I must leave thee’ 
Soon, Lucifer was humming the notes as well, and you smiled warmly as the two of you stood-by-side, drowning out the other’s chatter with your little tune. 
Nearby, Vaggie and Charlie were giggling to each other as they placed the waffle mix into its designated maker. Small bowls of different fruit and syrup spread around, as they prepared the toppings. 
Alastor stood beside them, a large cooking fork floating mid-air in front of him. Small tendrils snaked around the utensil as it occasionally lowered to the pan in front of him to adjust the bacon. 
“Hey, Al! Why don’cha give us a table over here so we can have somewhere to eat?” Angel Dust called, a stack of plates in his hand. The egg bois stood patiently around him, each holding a set of silverware and napkins. 
Alastor turned to the spider-demon before humming a confirmation. Lifting his hand, he snapped his fingers. A large oak table materialized from a cloud of green smoke, a long, red table-runner rolled free as it hung slightly off the edges.
Chairs seemingly rose from the floor like the undead, rocking slightly as they settled around the table. The egg bois rushed forward, clumsily climbing up the chairs as they began placing the silverware. Using his extra arms, Angel quickly placed the plates down, before doing the same with the glass cups. 
Husk raised Nifty by the waist, allowing her to reach over the table and pour the different liquid contents into their respectable glasses. 
Strawberry milk for Sir. Pentious and his bois, water for Alastor, and chocolate milk for Vaggie and Charlie. Apple juice filled Lucifer’s cup, and your favorite drink was topped to the brim right next to his.
In front of you, two bowls of batter laid beside the stove you stood at. One was a dark brown, the other a much lighter shade. 
You had cleaned two ketchup bottles, before slowly pouring in the different batters and filling them full. Using the bottles, you’d make batter shapes on the pan, and use the lighter shade to fill in the lineart.  
Right now, you were attempting to make the outline of a duck—who would have thought?—for Lucifer. It was coming out surprisingly well, in your opinion. The lines were rather smooth, and the beak looked like a beak so all seemed good. 
You switched bottles, ready to begin filling in the pancake. Before you felt someone sidle up behind you, fingers grazed softly down your back with familiar warmth.
“What are you doing now?” Lucifer peeked from behind you, getting a glimpse of your work. You moved over slightly, inviting him in front of your cooking easel. 
“Take a guess,” you smiled next to him, “I figured you’d want something cute to start off your day.”
“Well, it seems you made it too cute to eat.” Lucifer pouted, as he stared at the little pancake. You laughed, reaching for a spatula and gripping the pan handle with the other hand.��
“And it’s too cute to let it get cold and then throw it away.” You spoke, lowering the spatula into the pan. You shimmied it underneath the pancake, before flipping it quickly. As it landed, the image of the duck became much clearer, the lines flat and smooth. 
“I’m just glad you love me enough to combine my two favorite things.” Lucifer smiled, before he nuzzled his cheek softly against yours. You moved your head slightly, letting your lips graze against his cheekbone. 
Looking down at the pancake, you lifted it slightly to check whether it was done. Seeing the golden-brown hue, you lifted the ban from the burner. Slowly, you slid the duck-cake onto the finished pile. 
There were two plates of hot, delicious pancakes. One was simply everyday pancakes, which Lucifer had made. Yours on the other hand were handcrafted  Each one was a unique shape. There was a smiley face, an octopus, a butterfly, a fish, and now, a duck. You smiled proudly at your creations. 
Picking up the plates of pancakes, the two of you walked towards the dining table. The egg bois were already seated, and the others were finishing up their tasks.
“Finally, let’s eat!” Vaggie called towards the group of demons slowly gathering around the table. Charlie picked up a few waffles from the stack, and placed them on a few plates. 
Vaggie appeared next to her, a small plate of french toast in her grip as she too began moving around the table. 
Alastor set a large, flat dish in the middle of the table. Small toothpicks stuck out of the bacon wraps, steam wafting slowly from the interior. Nifty reached out and grabbed one, placing it on her plate.
You turned towards the pile of pancakes, grabbing a spatula to begin setting them on a separate plate before Lucifer slid beside you, watching your movements.
“I’ve got this, Darling. You go sit down.” He nudged you away from the plates, towards the table. You sent him a warm smile, before turning and taking a seat next to Sir. Pentious and Husk. 
“Saved a seat for me, did’ya?” Angel Dust smiled at Husk, before plopping down into the seat next to him. He had a large fruit bowl, a multitude of sliced colorful produce nestled together.
“Only because you’d bitch if I didn’t,” Husk replied, a faint smile playing on his lips as he drank from his glass. To be honest, this was the first time you saw Husk take a sip of something that wasn’t alcohol. 
Charlie lowered the large plate of remaining waffles onto the table, before brushing her hands against her apron and walking to her own seat.
“Dig in, everyone!” she exclaimed, her smile infectious as she served herself a stack of french toast.
Nifty’s eyes widened in delight as she took a bite of the bacon wrap, while Sir Pentious marveled at the designs of your handcrafted pancakes.
“Here you go, little lady.” Lucifer bowed slightly to Nifty, setting down the steaming tower of pancakes in front of her. She clapped her hands with giddy, before turning to Lucifer and giving him a pat on the cheek.
“Good boy.” She teased, before bursting into giggles.
Lucifer’s smile faltered, and he leaned back. He chuckled nervously, backing away to grab more food. He quickly walked around the table, before setting waffles onto each of the eggs boi’s plates. They licked their lips hungrily, as they stared down at the delicacy in front of them. Lucifer stood up, a hand slowly reaching behind his back.
“A good friend of mine told me you boys fancy ice cream, is that right?” He looked at Frank, who nodded his shell rapidly. Lucifer grinned cheekily, as he pulled forth a large tub of vanilla ice cream.
“Well, good thing for you, nobody said you can’t mix a little dessert with breakfast once in a while.” 
The egg bois practically went berserk seeing the holy grail of yummy deliciousness. They vibrated happily in their seats as Lucifer scooped a large glob on top of each egg’s waffles. It began to slowly melt, running across the waffles surface like syrup. 
He stepped back, as the eggs began to devour the food on their plates. Mumbling a thanks through their full mouths as Lucifer strode away, grabbing pancakes for himself.
He sat down across from you, his eyes moving from the scene around him and then on to you. He stared at you for a moment, while you were busy stuffing your face with the food on your plate. After a moment, you met his gaze. 
“Food too hot, or something? You keep staring at me.” You teased, tilting your head at him.
“It’s just hard to tear my gaze away,” he spoke, “when there is something much more delicious in front of me than the pancakes on my plate.” 
Your cheeks heated, and you averted your gaze, reaching out to grab a bacon wrap. You twisted the toothpick between your fingers, and inhaled the scent as it wafted from the small bundle.
It wasn’t too bad, and you were about to take a nibble before you saw Lucifer’s watery eyes. You raised an eyebrow at him, and he only sniffled in response.
“You’re going to eat his wraps before you eat my pancakes?” He pouted, lowering his head in mock-defeat. Rolling your eyes playfully, you took a fork and cut a small piece of pancake from the rest. Taking the bacon wrap, you stabbed the other end of the toothpick through the small square. 
Lifting the bacon-pancake duo to your lips, you pulled them from the toothpick with your teeth. You swirled it in your mouth, your eyes rolling back as the flavors burst on your tongue. 
When you looked back at Lucifer, he was staring intensely at you. A smirk playing on his lips, before he sighed dramatically. 
“Now what is it?”
“Nothing.. just thinking about how that could be me.” 
You burst out laughing when those words left his lips, shocked at his sudden bluntness. Sir Pentious turned to you, giving you a look of worry as you almost choked on your food. 
After a moment, you cleared your throat. You sent Lucifer a glare for almost killing you, and he only chuckled before turning his attention from you.
Charlie, who had been sitting a few chairs away, turned to you. She smiled warmly as she spoke, “thank you for helping us with this. I really liked your butterfly pancake!”
You returned the smile, nodding your head. “It was no problem at all, I think we all deserve to have a good meal surrounded by friends. It’s you who brought us all together, so thank you.”
Charlie blushed at your words, before turning her attention back to Vaggie. Who was talking to her about an idea regarding the hotel. 
You looked around the table, taking note of the smiling faces and cheerful conversation. Alastor was helping Nifty cut some of her pancakes, his precise strikes with the knife seemed familiar to that of cutting steaks.
Sir Pentious was handing his eggs each a piece of french toast, helping them drown it in syrup as they sat there happily. Slight traces of ice cream still around their mouths.
Angel Dust and Husk were busy picking fruit from the bowl, with Angel making some kind of lude comment as he watched fruit juice dribble down Husk’s chin. Who only growled and playfully swatted at the spider-demon.
Your gaze stopped in front of you, resting on Lucifer. He had finished almost his entire plate, and now was resting his chin against his knuckles. His elbow rested against the table, and he shifted slightly to tilt his head at you. 
“Well, what do you think? Would you have preferred breakfast in bed?” He asked, taking another sip of his apple juice.
You shook your head, smiling at him. Contentedness spreads across your features as you let the food settle in your stomach. 
“No, I could get used to mornings like this,” you spoke softly. 
Lucifer nodded, his fingers reaching out to graze yours. You laced your index finger with his, and tapped his knuckles softly. 
“Yeah, me too.” 
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who doesn’t enjoy some fluff about cooking with your lover? just pure fluff today, but i hope you guys enjoyed this! :)
sorry about that long wait, forgive me 🙏
taglist: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox @sukxma @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @laurenlaurie @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @mint129106 @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @lowkeyhottho @wings-of-sapphire @kottenox
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skzdarlings · 1 year
Text
04. sharing a bed series ; skz ; hyunjin
masterlist.
sharing a bed series part 4/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -
pairing: hwang hyunjin/reader content info: sexual content. friends2lovers, sharing a bed trope. penetrative sex n the pull out method lol. also hyunjin n reader were drugged the night before, premise is based around them getting married in vegas under the influence and not remembering how it happened in the morning. drama llama antics ensue.
-
Hyunjin has the heart of a sentimental corvid; he loves his people, but he’s weird and sneaky about it.  His propensity for dramatics is only in certain situations and the rest of the time he is quiet and tends to balk at grand displays.   He definitely does not like cuddling or hugging.  He will only begrudgingly suffer through it when his more physically affectionate friends get the bright idea to attack him with their loving arms. 
So you are wildly confused when you wake up in your hotel room with Hyunjin plastered to you, hugging you so tightly that you are halfway convinced he glued himself there.  His chin is nestled on your shoulder, his breath coming softly against your neck.  The hood of his grey sweatshirt is pulled over his head but some of his long blonde hair still falls on your face.  You blow at it unsuccessfully, getting some in your eye.  He holds you tighter.   
What the hell?
You arrived in Las Vegas yesterday and while most of last night is a foggy blur, you do remember the room had two twin beds.  Sure enough, there is a second bed just a few feet from yours, the covers completely untouched.  The neatly made bed is a stark contrast to the mess of your bed: the duvet sliding off the foot, the pillows on the floor, the bedding partially untucked.  All the sheets are wrapped around your body like a cocoon while a shivering Hyunjin clings to you, presumably for warmth.    
You try to roll over but your bedsheet-burrito has you trapped, never mind Hyunjin’s death grip of a spoon. 
“Hyunjin,” you whisper.  “I can’t breathe.”
He grumbles and squeezes you, making you squeak.
“Hyunjin,” you say, a bit louder.  “Wake up.”
He groans in his sleep and buries his face further in your neck.  His nuzzling sends shivers shooting down your spine. 
“Hyunjin.”  It comes out like a croak.   You try wriggling your shoulders.  “Hyunjin, wake up!” 
He makes a disgruntled sound but doesn’t move.
“Oh my god,” you say.  “How are you such a bitch even when sleeping? Wake up!” 
When he stays sleeping, you are forced to take drastic action.  You turn your face and blow, hard.   His face scrunches up and he finally stirs. 
“Ew,” he says, slowly blinking his eyes open.  His mouth draws into a sour pout, his brow tight.  “Stop.  Your breath is so disgusting.”
“Ahem.”
He makes a fist and rubs his eyes.   His dark brows are still furrowed but there is modicum of clarity when he looks at you.  It takes a minute to fully register your proximity, his eyes flicking here and there.  Finally, they open wide.  
With remarkable speed, Sleepy Hyunjin concedes leeway to Drama Queen Hyunjin.   He mewls like a frightened cat, ripping away so quickly that it knocks the air out of you with an oof. 
“What—” he starts.
He is interrupted when his thrashing makes him slide.  You are still bundled in your bedsheet-prison and can only watch as the clumsy oaf slides backwards right off the bed.  All those long limbs make a frantic windmill as he shrieks on his way down, hitting the floor with a heavy crash and groan. 
“You okay?” you ask. 
“Ugh,” he replies.   “My head.”
“Are you dying?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.  Well, when you’re done, come help me.”
His hand appears first, thumping onto the messy bed.  His head follows with an exhausted peek over the mattress.  His hood has fallen back and his long hair is infuriatingly neat considering everything.  Hyunjin is so beautiful that it is ridiculous.  All he does is run his long fingers through his hair, shake his head a little, and he looks picture perfect. 
“You’re staring,” he says with a scowl. 
“It’s because you’re so ugly,” you say. 
“Liar,” he says.  He makes a V with his fingers and licks between them.  “I’m sexy and you love me.” 
He is correct, so it is only natural that you try biting him.    
You chomp at him when he approaches, threatening to bite his fingers when they get too close to your face.  He pinches your nose between two knuckles and squeezes.
“Hyunjiiiiin, staaawp,” you say in a nasally whine.
He does, but only after playfully snapping his own jaws in your direction. 
“I should just leave you here and have a peaceful day,” he says.
“I’ll kill you and bury you in the desert.”
“Gross.  Can’t you bury me on the strip?”
“I’m gonna feed your carcass to some desert scorpions.”
“Ew.” 
It takes some effort, but Hyunjin manages to find where your blanket-burrito starts.  He grabs it and tugs like the annoying bimbo he is.  Your protest comes too late and he whips the blanket open, sending you flying off the bed.  You land with a heavy thud of your own. 
“Oops,” he says.  He rustles through the sheets to peer over the edge of the bed.  “Are you okaaaa—whaaaat are you wearing?”
You were already dizzy before Hyunjin decided to throw you around like a human tennis ball, but now it’s even worse. 
You have no idea what happened last night but it clearly involved a hit of something way, way, way stronger than usual.  It takes you a minute to come back to reality.  After shaking your head a few times, you are able to push yourself into a sitting position.  You finally look down.
You freeze. 
“Hyunjin,” you say.  “What the fuck am I wearing?”
“That’s what I just—”
“Hyunjin.  What the fuck am I wearing?!”
It is an utterly useless question because it is abundantly obvious that you are wearing a wedding dress.   A big, poofy, princess wedding dress with giant puffed up 1980s sleeves and enough cleavage on display that Hyunjin almost falls off the bed because he is tilting his head so much. 
You yank up the skirt as if that will offer any answers.  You find a pair of white stockings, one still neatly clipped to a thigh garter and the other halfway down your calf.   You stare at that stocking for a long moment, the vaguest recollection of something fighting its way through the fog of your druggy, drunk memory.   
“Uh,” Hyunjin says. 
You look up at him but his eyes are downturned to his own wrist.  You look there, your own eyes widening when you see what he sees. 
Your missing garter is looped around his wrist like a silky white bracelet. 
An image comes flooding back.  The periphery is still in smog, but you distinctly remember Hyunjin kneeling in front of you, gathering his long hair into a ponytail as he smirked up at you.  You remember him lifting your skirt, his head disappearing under the pile of white lace. 
You look at each other at the same time.  Did he just have the same memory?  Does he remember more?  You have no idea and you can’t bring yourself to ask.  Your voice is shot to hell, swallowed up by the heart that seems to have jumped into your throat.   
The silence is tense.  It is hotter than the desert in here. 
“We didn’t…?” he finally says, pointing between the two of you. 
“No way,” you say.  It sounds very uncertain. 
He lifts his other hand to tuck some hair behind his ears.  That’s when you see it.  Hyunjin wears so many rings so often that you completely missed it at first.   But right now his hands are bare save for one unfamiliar ring in a very particular spot. 
Hyunjin follows the trajectory of your horrified gaze and freezes when he spots the wedding ring.  He slaps a hand over his mouth, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead. 
“Oh my god,” you say.  You are afraid to check your own hand but it is imperative.   Hyunjin looks at you, his shocked hand still covering his mouth.  Together, you watch as your hand shakily rises out of the pile of white princess lace. 
There is a wedding ring on your finger too. 
You and Hyunjin scream at the same time, him clapping both hands over his ears as he hollers and you shaking your head and kicking your feet.  After your mini-freak out, you wave your hands to silence him.
“Stop, stop!” you say.  “It’s okay.  Be calm.  Be quiet.  This is okay.”
“We got married,” he wails, dragging his fingers down his face.  “My mom is gonna kill me.” 
“Your mom?  YOUR MOM?  Hyunjin, I’m gonna kill you before you even leave this city, so don’t fucking worry about your mom.”  You mime throttling him because he is too far to reach. 
Hyunjin flops down on the bed.  He lays on his back with his arms folded like he is ready to be mummified. 
“Oh my gawd,” he says.  “Oh my gawwwd…”
“Look, we might not have even done it,” you say.  It takes a lot of effort and you fall on your ass twice, but you manage to stagger ungracefully to your feet.  “Some rings and a dress don’t mean anything.  We were probably just goofing around.  What do you remember?” 
He is still in a mummification pose, his eyes closed.   
“Nothing,” he says.  He frowns.  “No, wait.  You were hitting on some ugly bitch of a man and didn’t listen to me, as usual, and the loser put something in your drink so I drank it to prove a point.  But then you still drank it because you’re the worst, and I dragged you out of there.”  He covers his face with both hands.  “Then we got married and ruined our lives.” 
“Okay, the last part you don’t know for sure,” you say.  You stumble around the bed.  “I’m gonna go wash up and clear my head and sort this out, because there’s no way we—”  You stop when you spy something sitting on the television stand.  It takes a few clumsy steps to reach, but you get there.
“Uh oh,” you say.
“Is that a marriage certificate?”  Hyunjin asks.
“No.”
“Are you lying to me?”
“Yes.” 
“Cool.”  He rolls over so he is facedown on the bed, his voice muffled by the messy blankets.  “I love this.”
“I’m gonna… go… wash up still,” you stay.  You sigh and gather up your dress to stomp over to the bathroom door. 
“Brush your teeth,” Hyunjin says.  “Your breath is gross.” 
“I hope you suffocate over there and make me a widow.”  You close the door with a pointed shove. 
You want to disobey him on principle, but there is a truly nasty taste in your mouth so you brush your teeth before anything else.  You avoid your reflection for as long as possible because the crazed madwoman in the mirror is a terrifying sight to behold. 
You reckon with her monstrous appearance eventually, tidying up as best you can.   You remove the stockings and garter, gulping when the memory returns.  You splash a lot of cold water on your face and it helps ground you. 
Just as you begin to feel cleansed, you feel an itch on your throat.  You crane your neck and tentatively touch the sensitive indentation, the raised bruising of a hickey.   Touching it awakens another memory, one that strikes hot at your core. 
Hyunjin.  You.  This hotel room.  He pressed you against the door and caged you in, forearms on either of your head.  Despite his presence looming over you, you did not feel nervous.   You touched him as if that intimacy was something you always shared.  You remember him cupping your face in one hand and turning your head, him kissing you softly on your temple and cheek, him breathing lightly over your throat before sucking a hard kiss under your jaw.  He was all teeth and tongue, drawing moans out of you while you bucked against him.   You remember him grinding against you, remember him pinning you to the door.   You remember stringing your arms around his neck and him picking you up, then it all goes black again.   
You turn away from the mirror, still holding your neck. 
Did you… no.
Did you?
No.
You didn’t fuck Hyunjin.  No way.  You would have remembered that much.  If nothing else, there would be evidence now.  A used condom or a mess somewhere, a twinge between your legs.  You are both fully dressed.  You even have underwear on.  It’s not the underwear you were wearing when you first left the hotel room, but it is underwear nonetheless. 
One thing is certain; you did not go that far. He took a bite out of you and carried you to the bed where you probably passed out.  How you got into a blanket-burrito, you are not sure, but at least it protected your dignity.  Whatever was left of it, at least. 
You step out of the bathroom only to walk straight into a pacing Hyunjin.   You bonk heads and cuss each other out, swatting the other person out of your way. 
He walks over to the bathroom and is about to step inside when you release a sigh. 
“I have a hickey,” you say.   
He pauses in the bathroom doorway. 
“You gave it to me,” you add. 
You cross your arms when he turns around, his gaze suddenly too hard to meet.  You tap your foot and stare at the wall. 
“I know,” he says.  “I remember it.” 
That draws your attention.  You look right at him and plant your hands on your hips. 
“Well, what else do you remember?” you ask. 
“I—I—ugh!  This is so annoying!  Ugh!”  He grabs his head and shakes it like a snow globe. 
His stupid beautiful hair is barely ruffled and he still looks amazing when he surfaces.  He runs his teeth over his plump bottom lip and you suddenly remember him grabbing your face with both hands, him smiling at you as a hot breeze fluttered around you, him holding you steady as he planted a big, wet kiss on you.  It makes your whole body lock with tension, barely paying attention to the Hyunjin in front of you now, the Hyunjin on the verge of a meltdown as he intentionally smacks his head against the doorway. 
“We came back here,” he says.  His whole face is scrunched up with disgust like he just ate something bad.  “Then I gave you that.”  He slaps a hand over his face.  “Then you… tried…”  He puts the other hand on his face too.
“I tried what?” you ask, heat creeping your neck. 
“You put your hand down my pants,” he croaks, hands over his eyes.  “I said we should wait until morning and you started crying.  I think you tried to give me a lap dance while crying, actually.”  That does sound like you, drugged or not.  “Then I…”  He points to the messy bed.  “I wrapped you in the sheet to protect your honour.”   
“My honour?  Ewwww.  Don’t call it that.”
“I’m gonna go drown myself in the shower.” 
“Hyunjin, wait.”
Once more, you stop him before he crosses the door.  He sighs and his shoulders deflate.  Pushing a hand through his hair, he turns around.
“What?” he says. 
“I’ll take care of this, okay,” you say gently.  “We weren’t ourselves.  Thank you… for taking care of me.  Seriously.” 
He sniffs and looks aside, the tips of his ears turning red.  You try to ignore the pitter-patter of your heart.  
“It’s Vegas,” you say.  “I bet they have drive-through divorces.  I’m just… I’m just sorry this happened.” 
“You are?” he says, staring at the ground. 
“Of course,” you say with as much sincerity as you can muster.  “Hyunjin, I know you.  You’re a goofy old romantic.  I’m sure you’re not happy about your first technical marriage happening while you were drugged up, and to someone you don’t even love.  Right?”
He looks a little panicked when he meets your gaze.  It flashes in his eyes for a second, then he looks away.  He crosses his arms protectively over his chest.    
“Hyunjin,” you say.  It feels like someone just lit fireworks in your chest.  “You… don’t… love me, right?” 
There is a long moment of silence then he throws both hands in the air. 
“Why do you say it like that?” he demands.  “Would it be that bad if I did?”
“What.” Your jaw falls open.  “You love me?”   
“Unfortunately, yes.  Sorry for inconveniencing you with my goofy romantic feelings.”  He snarls at you.  “It just happened.  If I could have stopped it, I would have, but I can’t.  So live with it.” 
“What kind of love confession is this?  You’ve watched like a million romance dramas and that’s what you come up with?”
“I’m a painter, not a poet.  Good-bye.”  He is quick this time, jumping into the bathroom and slamming the door closed.   
It leaves you standing there, jaw still hanging open. 
Hyunjin loves you. 
Of course Hyunjin loves you.  How could you be so stupid?  All this time, you had yourself convinced your best friend was unattainable because he’s the most gorgeous creature on earth, but all this time he loved you and you didn’t even notice.   He drank a drugged drink just to protect you.  He got a bit nutty in the head and married you, but even at his most fucked up, some intrinsic part of him sprung to your defense.  No matter how out of his mind, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything that could potentially hurt you. 
Oh my god.  
Hyunjin loves you.  You love Hyunjin. 
You are pacing when Hyunjin exits the bathroom and smacks into you.  You bonk heads and curse, again, then he brushes past without saying anything more.  You watch him go to the clean bed, watch him fold back the covers.   He takes off his hoodie and his pants.  Despite how many times you have casually dressed down around each other, this time you find yourself looking away, hot in the face.   When you look back, he is in a t-shirt and his boxers, sliding under the covers. 
“What are you doing?” you ask, fiddling with your thumbs.
“Going back to sleep,” he says.  “I’m tired.”  
He doesn’t look at you once.  He rolls onto his side and faces the wall, laying stiff as a board. 
You touch a finger to the mark on your neck and shiver.
“Hyunjin,” you say, to which he just grunts in reply.  “I want to sleep too.  I’m sorry, but can you help me with the dress?” 
He exhales and closes his eyes, shoulders dropping, but then he flips the covers down and gets out of bed.   He still doesn’t meet your gaze.   His strides are long and quick and, before you can blink, he is in front of you. 
You open your mouth to speak but he grabs you and spins you around.  It feels like an electric zap from your heart to your pussy, hands instinctively clutching your chest in surprise. 
You can feel him fiddling with a few buttons, muttering expletives to himself.   
He is still wearing the ring.  So are you. 
“Hyunjin,” you say softly.  “I love you too.” 
He has his fingers on the zipper.  He stops. 
“What?” he asks.  He stops touching you entirely so you look back at him.  He is tucking hair behind both ears, shaking his head.  “Don’t just… say it,” he says, still staring sideways.  “That’s worse than not hearing it.” 
“Hyunjin,” you say.  At least he looks at you this time, even if it is with uncharacteristic uncertainty.  You smile at him.  “Unzip me please.” 
You turn back around, chewing on your bottom lip.  
It takes a second, but Hyunjin does what you asked.  You feel one hand on your back, the other circling the zipper.  He tugs it down slowly and you shiver as the cool air conditioned air kisses your back.  His fingers brush your bare skin when releasing the zipper.
“Thank you,” you say, glancing back at him. 
He nods curtly and spins around.  You smile, watching him march back to the bed.   You turn your back to him when you let the dress drop, then you remove your bra.  His open luggage is nearby so you slip a t-shirt out of the suitcase.  It smells like him, his favourite cologne, and that alone gets you hot.  
With a final tug on the hem of the t-shirt, you turn and walk up to the bed he is in.  He is sitting upright but under the covers, his hands folded neatly in his lap while he stares at you. 
“Can I sleep here too?” you ask.  “The other bed is a mess.”
He nods.  A second ago, he refused to look at you and now he can’t stop staring.  It makes you grin, beaming at him as you slide under the covers. 
“You’re staring,” you say. 
“I’m not,” he lies, still staring at you.  He slumps against the headboard and slides down until he is laying flat.  His hair pools around him on the pillow.  Ridiculously gorgeous man. 
You lean over him, staring back.  You rest a hand on his chest and can feel his heart palpitating as quickly as your own. 
“You are staring,” you say, then giggle a little because his expression is still wide-eyed.  “You look like you’ve never seen a woman in bed before, and I know that’s not true.”   
You say it jokingly but he doesn’t laugh.  He tilts his head, his expression softening.  His tongue touches his upper lip then he smiles at you. 
“Not like this,” he says with heart-stopping sincerity.  “Not you.  Not… my wife.” 
Oh god.   People always act like there is something supremely unsexy about wife or husband, some stagnant nothingness that kills sex appeal.  But the second he says that word, it feels like an electric storm ignites between the two of you.   His gaze is dark, his breathing hard, his heart still pounding under your palm.  You suck in a deep breath, a shuddering release.  You are already aching. 
“Hyunjin,” you whisper. 
His hand comes up and cups your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.  It passes over your bottom lip and tugs at it.  It feels like you have a heartbeat between your legs. 
“Fuck,” you say, and swing yourself over him. 
He makes a noise the second you are straddling him, both his hands dropping to hold your hips.   You lean down, your hands on either side of his head.  His eyes are already closed when you start kissing him.  You rock against him, feel him getting harder in his boxers as his hands run up and down your thighs. 
The kiss breaks for a second, just to breathe, and he sighs. 
“Good,” he says.  “You brushed your teeth.”
“You are soooo…”  You try to sound annoyed but it’s impossible.  He laughs, his eyes crinkling with mirth.  “Ughhh, the worst!” 
You roll off him as if you have any intention of denying him, but he doesn’t give you a chance to tease him.   He just follows, rolling on top of you so it’s you pinned under him, the weight of him between your open legs.   He goes right back to kissing you, taking his time, almost torturously slow while pressed so intimately against you.  He licks into your mouth, nips at your bottom lip, steals your breath and comes back for more. 
“Hyunjin.”  You are out of breath.  You grab his face with both hands, gasping against his open mouth. 
“Mm?” he replies, pecking your lips. 
A part of you thinks you could lie in bed all day doing nothing but kiss Hyunjin.  Just a small part.  The rest of you is burning up with the need for much, much more. 
“Make love to me,” you whisper.  His breath stutters.  “Please,” you say.
He nods frantically.  If you weren’t so hazy with want, it might have made you laugh.  As it is, you string your arms around his neck and pull him down for another kiss.  This one gets heated quickly, wet and sloppy and pressed messily to the corner of your mouths, your hands moving over each other, trying to find the hems of your shirts without breaking apart. 
It happens in a frenzy, but you somehow get down to just your underwear.  His boxers land on the lamp and the shirts could have flown out the window for all that you care.  He is laving kisses all over your body and you are so wound up that you get a little teary, arching under him and tugging on his hair. 
“Hyunjin, please,” you say, dragging your nails up his back.  “I need you.”
He looks up at you.  You smile and bite your lower lip.
“I need my husband,” you say.
You are pretty sure you can visibly see his brain short-circuiting.   The next second, he is fully above you, pulling your panties down your hips.  It stays hooked around one ankle but the thought of it leaves your mind quickly.   He slides his hands under your thighs and spreads you open, leaning down to kiss you as he finally eases inside you.   
You both look down at where he inside you.  It feels like your clit is jumping for attention, your whole body shaking when he gently rubs you there while sinking fully in. 
“Okay, okay, okay,” he says, mostly to himself once he fully inside you.  He closes his eyes and breathes a little harder.  “Don’t move,” he says.  He leans down so his chest is against yours, your faces close.  “If you do, this is gonna be over really quickly.”
“Really?” you say with a giggle, pleased he is as unravelled as you. 
He just nods, his eyes still closed.  You kiss his cheek and hold the back of his neck, stroking there lightly and giving him a minute. 
“Feels good,” you say, because it does, even just like this, pressed so tightly together, him so full and hard inside you. 
He just groans, dropping his face to the crook of your neck and shoulder.  You rake your fingers through the hair at his nape when he rocks a testing thrust into you.  You have only just adjusted when those hips starting rocking with fluid determination, rolling steady and deep.  He feels almost impossibly good inside you, driving you into the mattress again and again. 
“Oh my god,” you squeak, putting both arms around his neck and clinging tight.  “Hyunjin.”
He just makes noise, unintelligible sounds that make him sound crazy despite how deftly he is moving.  You feel a bit crazy yourself, blinking at him with your mouth open when he lifts his head.   He kisses you, swallowing up your gasping moans, and presses his forehead to yours.  For someone who claimed to be close, he lasts a long time at a steady pace, the subtle, corded muscles of his slender frame holding taut as he moves. 
“Touch yourself,” he says, and kisses you without waiting for an answer. 
You kiss him back, very messily at that, but you do what he said.  You lick your fingertips and slide that shaking hand between your bodies, getting yourself off just seconds before his hips get erratic and he has to pull out.  He strokes himself to completion just over you, coming on your thighs.  He manages to reserve his strength long enough to gather you in his arms and roll over.  He guides you to rest on top of him, your face in his sweaty neck and your rising-and-falling chest against his own. 
“Why haven’t we been doing that for years?” you mumble. 
He laughs, his hand flying to his face to cover his mouth while he giggles.   The ring catches your eye and you reach for that hand.   He gets quiet, watching you. 
You lace your fingers with his, looking at the ring then looking up at him. 
“We’re a little crazy if we stay like this,” you say. 
He leans in and kisses you for so long that you almost forget what you were saying.  You remember when he smiles down at you, when he squeezes your hand, when he leans in and says, “That’s okay.  I like a little crazy.” 
In agreement, you smile back. 
4K notes · View notes
giuliettagaltieri · 2 months
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Shower of Gold
Pairing: Dad!Coriolanus Snow x Mom!Reader
Chapter Synopsis: The Mother
Warning: warming up to parenthood
Word Count: 2874
6 of 7
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When Aurelius Hyperion Swansworth-Snow was born, Coriolanus’ world just got a whole lot bigger.
He never thought he could love another the same as he loved you.  But he did.
Little Harper, as you would call him, looked exactly like his father.  The same golden curls and piercing blue eyes.  His cheeks were fat and pink as he babbled.
And just like his father, Little Harper loved you very much.
You have never been without Harper.  To the point that it often puts a strain on the intimate relationship you had with your husband.  But one pointed stare from you would let Coriolanus loosen his possessive hold on your waist, often looking like a kicked puppy as he sulks the entire night, sleeping with his back turned to you.
But with a wet kiss and a chubby hand slapping his cheek awake in the mornings, his brooding dissipates and he gladly accepts his little boy’s affections.
“Good morning, daddy.”  You say as your son claps his hands excitedly.
Coriolanus blinks his eyes as he looks at you, the sleepy fog is yet to leave his head but it does not stop him from seeing just how beautiful you are.  You are still in your sleeping gown, your hair disheveled, and your eyes still droop with sleepiness.  He believes it was at moments like this when he loves you the most.  When his mind is empty and your smiling face is the first thing that enters his head.
“Good morning.”  He drawls and he turns to his son who was nibbling at his deltoid that was the size of the kid’s head.  He looks at the string of saliva that webbed on his arm.  “That’s unsanitary.”
You scoff at your husband, cooing at your baby the next second.  “He just misses his daddy.  Don’t you, Harper?”
Harper looks at you curiously, bringing his chubby fist to his mouth.  You lay your head to Coriolanus’ chest as you coo at him.  Harper was unsure what you were doing but the happiness on your face brought forth a toothless smile from him.
He receives a smooch to his cheek from you and absentmindedly, Coriolanus puts his large hands to your baby’s face.
Your baby’s eyes cross as he keeps his eyes on your husband’s enormous hand.
Before you can ask what he is doing, Coriolanus gently pushes him down to the pillow that supports his back. 
You shriek in mortification, your baby blinks at the ceiling, not quite processing what has happened.  You swat at your husband’s chest as you get up to help your son to sit back up.
“I am so sorry, baby.  Daddy’s such a horrible man, isn’t he?”  You coo to your baby who is yet unsure whether he should be laughing or crying.  “Daddy, you bully!”  You accuse him as you pat your baby’s leg gently.
He only looks at you blankly, making you sigh and lean down to plant a kiss to his awaiting lips.  He always gets so cranky in the early mornings.
“Now, get up.”  You say as you rub his chest.  Coriolanus grunts as he gets out of bed, stretching like a cat as he yawns.  He ruffles Harper’s blonde curls before leaving you to take a shower.
He was already halfway through his coffee when you arrived with Harper now freshly bathed.
Coriolanus looks at Harper as you place him on the high chair. 
“We have a meeting today.”  Coriolanus reminds you as he keeps his eyes trained on his son.
You nod.  “Yes, I studied the report last night.”
“Harper?”  He sips his coffee as he reads the recent reports about the new District 12 mayor.
You chuckle knowingly as you nuzzle your nose against Harper’s.  “Little Harper’s coming with mommy, of course.”  He giggled as his fingers were quick to grab at your clothes.
Coriolanus smiles in his seat after he stole a glance at you.
“One wail and he’s out.”
“Oh, honestly!”  You have taken offense for your boy but Coriolanus challenges you with his own stern gaze.  “So mean.”  You mutter as you start feeding Harper with baby food.
Your husband puts the papers away and starts his breakfast.  “I just did not want you to look unprofessional.” 
“Corio?”
“Hm?”
“Shut up.”
His eyes narrow before he returns to his breakfast.
A scowl was painted on your face the entire breakfast and you refused to talk to him anymore.  Responding with nods and silence to his attempt to start another conversation.
Coriolanus knows that he might have offended you deeply.
“Are you ready?”  He asks as you wipe Harper’s face with the bib.
You respond by getting up and scooping your son in your arms, your chin raised as you carry yourself with elegance.  The baby bag was waiting to be picked up by you in the corner but Coriolanus beats you to it.
He walks ahead of you, the baby bag slung on his shoulder and his briefcase on his other hand.  You quietly follow him, not acknowledging him when he opens the doors for you, one leading out of your mansion and the other to your car.
Coriolanus waits by the backseat, just next to Harper’s car seat.  He had to pick it personally.  It was heavily padded, bulky enough to put you at ease, knowing that your baby will be protected should anything happen.
“I’ll strap him in.”  He offers as he fixes the aviators resting on his nose as he looks past your head.
Coriolanus is a proud man, you understand this is his way of apologizing.
You kiss Harper’s nose and you place him in your husband’s secure hold.
In the meantime, you buckle yourself in the passenger seat.
Coriolanus soon joins you in front and he starts the car after securing his seatbelt.
The silence was loud, had it not been for Harper’s babbles, you would have been tempted to turn the radio on.  You choose to review your itinerary for the day when a warm hand sneaks to your thigh and you feel Coriolanus’ thumb brushing it in a soothing manner.
“Apologize properly.”  You quip.
“Y/N please.”  He says tiredly.
“No.  I want you to say you are sorry.”
He wets his lips with his tongue and his jaw tightens as he keeps his eyes on the road, the leather cladding the wheel creaks under his grip.
When he refuses to do it, you return to your schedule.
“I’m sorry.”
You keep your eyes on the piece of paper attached to your planner and your husband groans as he leans back in his chair, his head resting on the support. 
“I’m sorry for antagonizing our son.”  He squeezes your thigh.  “And for insulting you.  I know you are more than capable in balancing both your duties to Panem and our family.”
Finally, your rouge painted lips spread to a small smile.
“You are forgiven.”  You place your hand over his.  The glint of the rings on your finger easing his anxiousness a bit more.
Harper yaps and Coriolanus grins.  “Yes, I know.  I’m sorry, I’m not stealing mommy.”
You press a knuckle to your lips, not wanting to laugh as your son takes quick offense in being left out.  You try to keep your voice down as you turn to your husband.  “I’ll make time for us later, I promise.”
He brings your hand to his lips to kiss and quickly lets you go as Harper yaps angrily.
The moment you enter the presidential mansion, one you use only for official business, Harper understands that he cannot be fussy anymore.  He was seated on your lap, nibbling on a fruit pacifier as a man talked while pointing at the bright square behind him.  The moving objects greatly entertained the baby on your lap.
Harper recognizes your voice and looks up.  He pulls the pacifier from his mouth when your tone sharpens.  The boy’s blond crinkle together as his lips jut out when the unknown man responds to you with anger.
The other people in the room also seem to be angry at the person standing and Harper leans back on your stomach knowing that his mommy is not alone.  But the man is suddenly pointing at you and to him, the poor innocent boy.  Harper grunts and looks at his father angrily.
“Da!”
Coriolanus, who was leaning to the side with his legs crossed, looked at his son.  He brings a finger to his lips and Harper huffs.
“You are failing to see things objectively.”  Coriolanus says to the man who was starting to sweat under the disapproving eyes of everyone present in the room.  “The Lady did not dismiss your idea because she was biased to infants.  Your idea was dismissed as administering a vaccine to the younger population of Panem without having it thoroughly tested could be catastrophic.  We are talking about large scale mortality.”
The man laughs and Harper presses himself closer to you, disturbed by the behavior.
“Why do you care, Mister President?  They’re just Districts!”
Coriolanus nods, finally understanding the argument of this man.  He had suspicions but he wanted the man to say it. 
“Districts.”  Coriolanus grins sardonically.  “Do you plan to instigate a second rebellion?”
The man is tongue-tied, he makes wild gestures but fails to keep his argument.  “Exaggeration.”  He laughs nervously.
“When their children start dying off, will they not fight back?”  Coriolanus asks.  “And a rebellion does not happen overnight.”  He adds.  “It is because of the piling up missteps made by men like you.”  Harper slams his chubby hand on the desk to show he is on his father’s side.  “Thank you, Harper.  And who will suffer when that happens?”
The man looks at his feet in shame.  The backlash could be severe.  The crops and livestock sent to the Capitol could be poisoned.  The Capitol could be powered down when all the system shuts off.
Countless possibilities and consequences could take place after one wrong decision.
“But I understand that this vaccine is important.”  Coriolanus sighs.  “Send it back to the lab.  Study it further for possible adverse reactions.  I will not give the greenlight until you are able to tell me the mechanism of action of this vaccine without looking at your notes.”
As the men file out of the room, you sit Harper on the hard wood table as you clean up your desk.  “I cannot believe the cabinet let this man reach your office.  He was unprepared.”  You say and Harper continues to chew on his pacifier, the crushed cherries inside needs replacing.
Coriolanus agrees with you and scoops Harper off the table, the little boy draws his arms and chin over his father’s shoulder to check if you are close by.  “Shall we go, my love?”
You nod and you stand on your tippy toes to press a kiss on Harper’s cheek as you lean on Coriolanus for support.
The next event is the annual summit, where Coriolanus is expected to give a speech involving the latest reports and advancements made by Panem’s Capitol based research facility and what plans lie ahead. 
In the ceremony, the Lady Justice was often a symbolic figure that was ever present.  Only this time, a sword seems to have gone missing in the smaller statue that is kept in the Presidential mansion’s reception hall.
“This is a disgrace.”  Your husband tells the staff who were in charge of the events.  “How could something so essential be misplaced?”
Harper was getting fussy in your arms at the sight of his father so agitated.
It seemed rather insignificant but having it missing is a blatant display of disrespect.
Your mind races for possible solutions.
You can talk to the media to cut the view of the Lady Justice.
Or perhaps you can have the entire statue be carried out of the room, no that would cause too much commotion.
And then it hits you.
“Corio.”  You call and he reluctantly heads your way.  “The sword in your office.” 
Harper pulls at Coriolanus’ tie and nibbles.  Your husband gently pulls the fabric, ignoring the wet stain as he processes your words.
“I think it might be the perfect size.”  He rubs his chin.  “I’ll go send someone to get it.”
You put a firm hand on his chest and he pauses.
“Harper and I will come get it.”  You smile at him reassuringly.  “It’s only a few floors up.  And the peacekeepers stationed in your office will let me through and out with no hitches.”
Coriolanus wanted to protest but you were right.
You would be most efficient for the task.
“I can watch Harper.”  He offers but you shake your head.
“Relax for now.  Harper is going to help mommy get the sword.”
Coriolanus smiles tiredly and he presses his forehead against yours, his large hand placed on Harper’s back protectively.
“Da.”  Harper calls and Coriolanus chuckles and snaps his fingers, an Avox places a pair of aviators to his hands, one he previously wore, and he puts it on Harper.  
You often do this when you expect a lot of camera flashes.  You would hate to overwhelm your baby.
“Still can’t believe that’s his first word when he’s such a momma’s boy.”  Your husband says, making you smile affectionately.
You give him one last look before you rush out of the room with Harper in your arms.  Camera flashes from the reporters follow after you.
The guests are already arriving and the main media companies are setting up their equipment.  You have no time to lose.
Harper was such a good kid, not fussing as he clung to you when you rushed to the office of your dear husband.
As expected, the peacekeepers stationed outside the doors let you through without even asking about your business to be in the office.
You easily spot the sword on the side.  It hasn’t been removed from the position you first saw it in back at the inauguration of Coriolanus as President.
“You beauty.”  You smile as you easily grab it from the bracket mounted on the wall.  Harper made an attempt to touch it but you were quick enough to pull it away from him.  “This is dangerous, sweetheart.”  You easily slip it inside the scabbard as you refuse to take any chances for Harper.
The peacekeepers stationed outside the presidential office were oriented about what happened and gladly reopened the door for you and Harper.
People moved out of the way as they saw the sword on your hand and the baby on the other.  You have your chin held high as you enter the hall.  Coriolanus stopped mid sentence while talking to Strabo Plinth at the sight of you.
“Oh, good Heavens!”  Mrs. Plinth exclaims and approaches you with concern.  You looked rather dangerous with the enormous weapon in your hand.  Harper smiles brightly when he sees her and he raises his arms, wanting to be picked up by the woman.  Mrs. Plinth cups her mouth, touched by the little boy’s behavior.  You gladly hand her your son.
Grandmotherhood is a privilege stolen from her.
Mr. Plinth was smiling at you when you approached him and your husband.
“She saves the day.”  He tells Coriolanus who nods with a proud look in his eyes. 
You give Coriolanus the sword and he steps on the ladders to place the sword on the empty hand of the Lady Justice.
“Justice is restored.”  The former President, Maximinius Ravinstill, claps his hand and the rest of the crowd rises from their seats to applaud you and Coriolanus.  Justice was not something that could have easily been lost after the disappearance of a sword but The Lady Justice was an important symbolic figure not just to Corso but to Panem.
That night, you are in your shared bedroom.  You are resting your back on the headboard, your tired back being cushioned by enormously large pillows while your son has fallen asleep from nursing on your ample bosom.
You are humming a soft tune, your feet moving to the melody when Coriolanus enters.  He is yet to change his clothing as he was still in his dress pants and shirt that has a few buttons undone.
“Your grand entrance overshadowed the event.”  He grins as he shows you the paper.  There in the headlines, a picture of you with Harper held on one arm and sword on the other.
“Oh, Corio.”  You frown apologetically.  “I am sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”  He scoffs, the smile remaining on his face.  “Everybody loved it!  They forgave the errors I mentioned as they were so enamored by you.”
You are not certain how to respond but he shows you the photo once more.
“Look at Harper.”  He says excitedly.  “Grandma’am sent a photo of mine when I was still a toddler and he looks exactly just like me.”
You are not certain if Coriolanus was aware of the smitten look on his face but you dare not point it out as you listen to him talk about the photos and Harper.
Coriolanus might act indifferent to his son at times but he cannot deny the fact that Harper has him wrapped around his chubby little finger.
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Quest for Happiness
News Article
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stawberrypimpsimp · 2 months
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Alastor x Reader: The Radio Demon Enjoys a Treat
Word Count: 2,321
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You were sick of working for Valentino. He was an asshole, a terrible demon. He has you working non stop but at least you aren't his favorite toy like Angel. You didn't have it as rough as him, he had it bad, but you two formed a quick bond. The mutual hate and restraints Valentino had brought you closer. Angle was able to escape Vals grasp just a bit. He moved out to a hotel, called the Happy Hotel, he said. You envied him. How you wish to escape the clutches of that monster.
Angle cared for you deeply. You wanted to ask him if there was room for you in this hotel. If you could have the temporary escape he gets. You decided to meet up with him at Consent, a sex club.
“Hey there sweet tits!” Said Angle walking up to you at the bar.
“Angle! How’s being a dick sucking slave going for you?” You said laughing
”Oh its great.. Vals got me doing gang bangs back to back. Fuck Im tired!!” Angle said, waving the bartender over for a drink.
“Two twink cosmos”
Next thing you know your 8 shots in and grinding on some random ass sinner. You forgot to talk to Angle about the hotel, to drunk to even remember what the night was about. Out of the corner of your eye you see Val. What the absolute fuck?! Can’t I get away from this sex fiend pimp. You dance your way over to Angel nudging him and slyly pointing out towards Val.
”Ugh.. I don't want to deal with this right now.. Let’s fucking go.” Angel says
You nod in agreement following his lead out, luckily you both sneak past without being seen.
“See ya tomorrow Angel!” You say walking away waving you hand and stumbling into a pole.
”Look youre way too drunk to get home and I'm pretty drunk as well. The hotel is right around the corner. You can stay the night there! I mean Charlie would be happy to meet ya.” Angel says grabbing your hand.
“Thanks Angel I owe ya one.” You say stumbling along his side.
He wasn’t nearly as drunk as you but hey at least you were able to let go for a bit and enjoy yourself.
You both walked up to the hotel, and oh boy was it a bad stay. Extremely disheveled and musty. Angel opened the doors for you and you both walked in. Inside wasn’t as bad as outside you guess but absolutely not what you were expecting when Angel talked about residing in a hotel.
A blonde girl in a red suit comes up to you grabbing your hand and shaking it profusely.
“Hello! My name is Charlie, welcome to the Happy Hotel!” She gets all sentimental and teary all of a sudden. “Angel, I can't believe you brought someone here!”
She was loud, a lot to take in but hey it helped you sober the fuck up but obviously still head ache inducing.
“Uhhhh Hello?” You said with confusion.
“Okay Okay let me show you around! Here we work on rehabilitation and bettering yourself. Let me Introduce you to everyone!!” Charlie said, overly excited.
”Okay sooo you already know Angel! So that introduction is off the list.. Hmm.. OH OH THIS THIS RIGHT HERE IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GIRL IN ALL OF HELL! VAGGIE! She is my girlfriend and here to help” The blonde demon said with pure excitement and love. She grabbed the hands of a girl with gray skin and hair that resembles moth wings.
”Hi.. Uh yes I’m Vaggie nice to meet you.” She says with an awkward smile.
Once Charlie stops looking and admiring Vaggie for a little longer she takes my hand dragging me over to what you can describe as a bar. It most certainly does not fit in with the color and decor of the place but you kept you mouth closed.
“This is Husker he is the bartender! He comes off all grumbly and grumpy but I swear he has a soft spot!!”
Husk who appears to be a cat like creature with a theme of playing cards to him. He looks up from the glass he is pouring then looks back down grumbling to himself. Oh well guess grumbly was the perfect word to describe him.
“Hello…?” You say hesitantly. He only gives you a look up again and a nod taking a swig of the glass of booze he just poured.
You look over and see a small little creature running with a knife stabbing bugs. You cant take your eyes off her as she takes the knife and impales a bug. Ew but at least keeping the place.. clean..?
”That over there is Nifty. She is the maid and in charge of keeping the place tip top shape.” Charlie says smiling avoiding watching her stab a few more bugs.
”Do you know any bad boys? You're just a girl.” The short girl said, wide eyed in excitement.
“Sadly yeah, work with a whole bunch of them but thats a topic for another time..” You say looking down trailing off your sentence.
Thankfully that stopped the conversation between you and her and she went back to stabbing bugs. Out of nowhere a black shadow witha green smile appears next to you forming into the shape of a demon. A handsome one at that. Tall and lanky in a striped red suit, a cane resembling a microphone right at his side.
“Well hello dear, I am Alastor the host of the hotel, an absolute pleasure to meet you!.” The demon says charmingly with a grin so wide it almost reaches his eyes, but his voice was off. It sounded like his voice was being broadcasted over a radio.
“Oh, hello?” You say a bit nervously as this man just came out of nowhere.
He grabs your hand bending down giving it a soft kiss. Everyone stopped and looked mouth open and shocked.
”What the fuck freaky face?! You ain’t never done that before.” Said Angel with a surprised look and then a laugh.
Charlie clasped her hands together and gave a long aweeee. You had no idea what was going on why everyone was acting so weird.
“Heh?” You say loudly looking confused and into Alastor glowing red eyes as you try to study what the schlock is about over him.
”Well I've never seen him be so… so gentle?” Charlie said still in awe with hearts in her eyes.
“Charlie my dear, I am simply just being a good host!” Alastor says keeping his smile wide and letting out a chuckle.
“Suuuureeeeee…!” Charlie says teasingly as if she could convince Alastor that she believed him.
“Now let me show our new guest around the hotel. Shall we?” He says in his static voice putting his arm out for you to hold onto.
You look at Angel and he gives you a wink and big grin. Looking at Alastors arm you grab it and begin to walk with him. Using his other hand holding his cane he starts to point out where everything is giving you a tour.
“..and hear darling we have my room!” Alastor says with a smirk.
You feel your face go a bit red. Why is he showing me HIS room?! You deal with horny men all day but this demon is getting you flustered. He opens the door letting you walk in first. There was a dark forest at the hall way point leading to who knows how far. Although it was beautiful. You stand here admiring it till you feel something behind you.
Alastor has his hand on your waist the other on your thigh. Slowly he slides his hand to your upper thigh, leaning into the crook of your neck.
”Well yes it's quite true I put everyone in awe over my affection, but I just simply couldn't stop myself. You are quite a cat my dear. Let me show you how a lady like you should be treated.” Alastor said with his radio voice but in a cooing tone.
Your face goes absolutely red. Shivers go up your spine all the way to the tip of your head. You could melt in his arms with how gently he is touching you. Shaking your head slowly you give a soft nod not even able to get out a word.
He glides his hand up your thigh to your crotch, he takes his hand and slowly starts rubbing it back and forth applying just enough pressure to have a decent amount of friction. The hand on your waist turns into him gliding his finger tips up your stomach making you do a soft gasp. He then reaches your chest and cups your breast. He slowly massages it in the same pace that his hand is going at. His face now buried in your neck kissing it softly. Then you feel a sharp pain letting out a small yelp. He lifts up his head slightly and whispers in your ear with a low radio tone.
”My apologies dear, I couldn’t help myself with how tender your skin is.”
He goes back to your neck licking it softly tending to the wound he left you. You didnt mind, it felt good and exciting. He moved his hand now to the rim of your pants.
“May I show you a good time darling?” He says in a static coo well running his fingers around the rim of your pants playing with them.
You give a simple nod. How does he have you in his clutches so easily? He takes his hand and slips it in your pants.
“Oh my, look how soaked you’ve become.”
He takes his hand and begins to feel your pussy. Running his fingers around your lips then pressing a finger on your slit going up and down slowly well his thumb rubs your clit.
God damn what the hell. You could hardly think, just focusing on all the sensations Alastor is causing you to feel. Your body entranced by the places he’s touching.
“Bed..?” Is all you managed to get out with a moan. You've been holding the moans in your throat as if they were trapped and couldn’t escape but that wasn’t because you weren’t feeling good it was because you were feeling so good. He raises his head to your ear once again.
”As you please my dear.” He says in a deep tone that broadcasted through your ears.
He removes his hands and swoops you off your feet. Holding you in his arms bridal style then setting you gently on his bed. You keep your eye on him, staring into his deep glowing stare.
“Let’s get these off of you shall we?” He says witch a chuckle.
Taking his finger he rips the seem of your pants making them fall off, now on to your panties. You look at him with lust as he returns the same look.
“Now be quite we dont want the other curious of the noise my sweet doe.” He says in his charming radio voice.
He gets on his knees and sets your legs on his shoulders. Alastor begins to kiss your inner thighs. Softly sucking on your skin then gliding his tongue up a bit to the next piece of flesh he is going to tend to. Unspoiled another sharp pain is felt. You knew what it was of course, but oh did it feel good. Between the bites, kisses, and licks he makes his wary up to your pussy. Extremely wet all ready for him to dine on. He wrapped his arms around your thighs digging his hands into them and leans his face in your aching wet crotch, not licking it just yet. He lets out a few heavy breaths causing you to shiver in delight, finally he takes a lick of your slit. His nose nuzzling your clit. He takes his tongue from the back of your pussy gliding it between your lips then finishing it off with a flick of his tongue on your clit. Quickly you took your hands covering your mouth choking back a moan you so desperately want to let out.
“Oh dear.. it appears you may need some help staying silent.”
Next to you a black hole appears on the bed and a tentacle slithers its way out. Black and slick it wraps around your mouth muffling the sounds you cant help but let out.
“Back to business..”
He thrust his head back between your legs licking your increasingly wet slit. Moans attempt to leave your lips but they cant. Arching your back indicating your about to cum he pulls away just barely enough to where you can only feel the tip of his lips.
”Not yet dear” He says smirking.
Damn that smile never leaving his face, that old times radio voice, he is driving you crazy.
Once he knows you won’t reach your peak just yet he wraps his lips around your clit. He starts sucking on it softly, nibbling on it unlike his hard bites, using his tongue sliding back and forth providing flicks. As he does so he slips two fingers inside of you. Dear god. Yes god, this is pure bliss. Alastor begins to pump his fingers in and out of you, now adding a curl to his fingers touching your sweet spot. He continues to pull them in and out. You arch your back and feel sweet realese. You cum on his fingers, him still sucking your clit and slowing down his pumps letting you ride out your orgasm. He pulls out his fingers and licks them clean.
”Im not usually one for sweets but this was a dessert I deeply enjoyed.” Alastor said standing back up looking over you taking in what he will now claim as his darling doe.
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fckoffjakegyllenhaal · 2 months
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regina’s puppy (3)
// regina has a soft spot for you, but when she refuses to accept why, someone else might swoop in and take your attention away from her. //
warnings: mutual pining, soft!regina (for reader), mean!regina (not to reader), very jealous!regina, underage drinking, mentions of smoking.
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this is part 3 to the series, read part 2 here!
“please don’t make me go.” you just about beg regina, flashing her a pair of puppy eyes that nearly makes her reconsider her entire existence. the blonde was currently blending the makeup on your face, claiming she was going to be your “personal makeup artist” tonight. truth be told you enjoy letting regina do your makeup; the close proximity, her undivided attention, having an excuse to stare at her beautiful face without being questioned. though when she mentioned she was making you go to the party gretchen was throwing, you began to beg her not to take you.
“it’s just a few people from school, and a few drinks. i’ll have you home by ten, or you can just sleepover my house.” she assures you dismissively, her gaze transfixed on your face as if it was a canvas for the beauty blender. it’s been three weeks since you became a part of regina’s “clique”, and to say it’s been strange is an understatement. you had gone from the bottom of the social food chain, to the top of it in less than a month. all because of regina’s strange fixation with you.
“i wasn’t even invited! and i’m pretty sure i wouldn’t even know what to do there.” you retort, and she shakes her head, “you don’t need an invitation when you’re with me.” she responds pointedly. “just stick by my side and look pretty all night. that’s all you have to do.” she declares simply, and your cheeks turn a dark shade of pink. “you think i’m pretty?” you question softly, the uncertainty in your voice causes her heart to clench. her tenebrous blue eyes are gazing into yours, she appears to get lost in you for a mere moment.
“i think you’re so, so pretty.” the blonde reveals in this washed out voice that makes your knees weak. thankfully you’re sitting on the seat of regina’s vanity, otherwise you’re sure you would’ve stupidly fallen. the way you avoid her gaze while your face heats up, causes regina to cup your chin, tilting your head upwards to look at her. your breath hitches, getting lodged in your windpipe as you nearly forget how to breathe due to the close proximity. regina quirks a brow at your reaction as she continues doing your makeup. “are you nervous, y/n? do i make you nervous?” she inquires, practically staring into your soul.
“i—i guess you do.” you mentally facepalm yourself for stuttering, and answering like a fool. the cheshire cat-like grin that takes its place on regina’s features causes a heat to rise in your belly. “it’s okay, y/n, i think it’s cute. how flustered and nervous you get around me... how strained your voice gets, and how red you get.” she teases, and you shake your head in disagreement. “it’s not. it’s embarrassing.” you murmur, and she flashes you a look, “i don’t think so. i like it.” she breathes out, her face so close to yours you forget how to think.
“why?” you manage to ask, and she shrugs, pulling away from you in an instant. the moments over as quickly as it begun, and in a small way you’re thankful for it because you can think clearly now. “i like the way you are with me. especially when you look at me. it’s like i’m the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen.” she professes, as she rummages through her makeup bag. regina avoids your eyes. she doesn’t enjoy being honest, but she also can’t bring it in herself to lie to you for some cursed reason.
“cause you are the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen.” you answer simply, sounding so honest. regina’s head snaps in your direction; she searches your face for any signs of dishonesty, but all she finds on your features is that usual genuine expression that makes her stomach flip. “you’re just saying that cause i’m regina george.” she says her name in this taunting way, as she begins to apply the blush on your cheeks and nose. “i wouldn’t say something i don’t mean, gina.” you wholeheartedly respond, and you swear you can see a faint blush tinting her cheeks.
regina feels this pang of guilt in her chest. you’re so innocent, and she thinks you’d do just about anything she asks. “if you don’t wanna go tonight, we don’t have to.” the blonde finds herself caving, and you furrow your brows. “well, we’re already getting ready… we might as well go, right? besides, gretchen will have a total meltdown if you don’t show up.” you point out, and regina shrugs. “yeah, but if you don’t wanna go, we don’t have to.” regina reiterates, and you offer her an overly trusting little smile.
“if you go, i go.” you assure her, and her eyebrows perk up at your willingness to do whatever she wants. regina likes that a lot more than she should. “good. why don’t you put on those flare jeans i got you, the black ones.” she smiles as she says this, putting away her makeup. “okay!” you obediently respond as you hop up off the seat, and over to your bag of clothes you brought.
you decide to match a white lace crop top you picked out when you and regina went shopping. when you finish getting dressed, you come out of the blonde’s bathroom, stopping in your tracks when you see her outfit. the tight, black leather pants she was wearing nearly made you drool. regina notices the expression of awe on your face, and she savors it. she’s used to having people gawk at her because they thought she was attractive, or they were envious of her… but you… the way you looked at her was always so different. she couldn’t figure out why she craved your attention all the time; now more than ever.
“you look good.” she declares as her eyes roam up and down your outfit. the blood rises to your face, “i think i have a sherpa jacket that’ll look so hot on you with that.” she states as she walks past you, and towards her walk-in closet. you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. regina looks even hotter than usual tonight, and you didn’t know if you were going to be able to keep your gayness to yourself. you already nearly had a gay panic attack while she was doing your makeup; now you were going to have to be by her side all night while she looked hotter than the temperature of the sun.
“i found it!” she yells out from somewhere in the unnecessarily large closet. when she comes out, regina is holding a cropped, black corduroy, sherpa jacket for you. “try this on and let me see.” she orders, tossing the jacket your way. you catch it, scrambling to put it on compliantly. regina‘s grin falls as soon as you have the jacket on; you’re standing a few feet away from her looking absolutely gorgeous. yet you look up at her with this expression of insecurity, desperately waiting for her approval. “doesn’t look good?” you ask shyly, “you look so beautiful.” regina blurts out, and your face burns as the butterflies in your stomach flutter rapidly.
“th-thank you.” you shyly respond; your timid expression nearly causes her to smile. but then she remembers she’s regina george and she’d never be caught dead being this soft. “you better get used to compliments, y/n. especially when you look like that.” she comments coyly as she reaches for her black doc martens. you watch her put her shoes on; your cheeks practically on fire as you try to compose yourself and get it together. you don’t tell regina you probably will never get used to her complimenting you, and once she’s finished tying her boots, she smile broadly at you, causing your heart to swell at the sight. she’s always gorgeous, but she’s so much more beautiful when she’s unguarded like this.
“come on, let’s go before gretchen starts spamming me with texts.” she jokes, and you giggle as regina grabs your hand. your breath gets caught in your windpipe as she interlocks her hands with yours. that’s another thing you were trying to get used to; holding hands with the prettiest girl on earth. “ugh, i wonder if becky martin’s gonna be there tonight. she was at nathan’s party last month, and had on the same shoes as me.” regina pouts, as you both get into her jeep.
“but you probably looked way better than her anyways.” you respond, and she raises a brow as she starts her car. “probably?” she asks a bit angrily, and you giggle. “you definitely looked way better than becky martin, gina.” you tell her, and her face morphs into a satisfied expression. “i know.”
you’ve never really been to a high school party before, so you weren’t entirely sure what to expect. but as soon as you walk into gretchen’s house, the loud music blares through your ears, and there are far more people here than the cafeteria during lunch. you look around at the hoard of students; some you knew and some you had never seen before. “regina!! y/n!! you guys came!” gretchen sounds abnormally happy to see you, and she wraps her arms around you. “you totally have to try the sangria mix! it has strawberries in it!” she squeals, and regina practically pries gretchen’s hands off of you.
“you’re already drunk? it’s like nine-thirty. and where’s karen? you’re supposed to be making sure she doesn’t hookup with some random guy again.” regina begins to scold gretchen, who proceeds to ramble out an apology. you seem to get distracted by all the noise and people, but regina pulls you out of your thoughts when she intertwines her hand with yours. “do you wanna try sangria or are you a beer girl?” regina asks over the ear-splitting music. “sangria please.” you answer, figuring you’d prefer the fruitier drink.
regina begins to make you a drink; something she never does. usually when she’s at things like this, she’s forcing one of her loyal minions to make her the “perfect” drink… yet here she was, grossly attempting to make you the best first drink you’ve ever had. god, who are you, regina? the blonde can’t help but think as she tries to keep her focus on what she’s doing instead of looking at you. she can’t figure out when it became so difficult for her to keep her eyes off you.
she hands you the drink, and your smile meets your eyes, causing her heart to do a backflip in her chest. nobody smiles at her like that; as if they’re verily happy to be in her presence. you appear to relish in regina’s attention, and she savors the feeling of being so appreciated. “thanks gina.” you respond, sincerely, and when you don’t take a sip she raises her brows in an unamused manner. “well? what are you waiting for?” she asks a bit impatiently, earning a sheepish blush from you. “i’m waiting for you to pour yourself one.” you tell her honestly, and there’s that stupid flutter in her stomach again.
“you’re so sappy.” she mutters, but the flush on her cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed by you. you grin as she begins to pour herself a drink, and she looks at you before she takes a sip. you follow her lead, and you make a face of disdain just as she does. “okay, so maybe gretchen is better at this then me.” she mutters in this cutely frustrated way that makes you giggle. “hey regina—“ some guy on the football team attempts to talk to her as he approaches you both, but the blonde cuts him off before he can even finish. her eyes full of fury you’d hate to be on the receiving end of. “don’t you see me talking right now? shoo.” she practically barks out.
he frowns, scoffing as he walks off. she shakes her head, rolling her eyes, “if i wanted to speak to him, i would’ve.” she mutters, and you tilt your head, offering her this soft look. “you can’t blame boys for trying to talk to you. you’re the prettiest girl in school.” you remind her, and she huffs, taking another swig of her drink. “yeah, but that’s the only reason they want to talk to me.” she starts stringently, and you listen to her closely. “they only wanna talk to me cause i’m popular, and hot. that’s the only reason why anyone talks to me.” she sounds like she actually believes the words as they leave her mouth.
“you may be “hot” and “popular” but you’re also so much more than that, regina. i mean you’re so nice to me, and you like the same books i do. plus i think your taste in music is really cool. you just don’t give yourself enough credit.” you say easily, taking another sip of your drink. regina gets lost in you for a few seconds; her heartbeat slowing down as everyone else in the house fades out of her mind. she opens her mouth to say something else, but karen and gretchen interrupt. “regina!” the dark haired girl squeals as soon as she sees the queen bee.
she approaches you both and hugs regina, who shoves her off, before karen hugs you. “oh my god, i love your jacket! did you do your makeup?? you look so pretty!” karen’s kind compliments make you smile. karen’s been genuinely nice to you since you became a part of regina’s “clique”. she was welcoming right away, and just happy to have someone new to talk to. “thanks, it’s gina’s jacket. she did my makeup.” you say, flashing this dorky smile at the blonde who is watching the entire interaction with those intense, blue eyes. “don’t you think the blush on the nose looks so cute on her?” regina asks, and karen nods.
“yes! i tried it last summer, but didn’t like it on me.” she admits, as she begins to tell you about the makeup looks she tried last summer. regina glances at gretchen who seems to be staring at something… or someone. “i’ll be right back.” gretchen says, and regina furrows her brows as she watches her friend make her way up to jason who was shamelessly flirting with another girl. regina frowns, “i’ll be right back, i gotta make sure gretchen doesn’t hookup with that asshole again.” the blonde tells you, squeezing your arm before she follows gretchen.
“hey karen! you guys wanna come here and take a hit of this?” one of the guys on the basketball teams calls out for the dark haired girl, and she immediately turns her fixation on him, getting distracted. “okay! come on y/n, let’s go.” she declares, and before you have any time to protest, karen is dragging you over to a group of students you barely know. you look around for regina, and notice she’s busy talking to gretchen and jason… well, she’s more so yelling at them.
“here, wanna try this?” dani, one of the girls on the softball team asks a she offers you a lit joint. you reluctantly take it, placing the filter between your lips before pulling a hit out of it. you begin to cough horrendously, and instead of being put off, the jock lets out a genuine laugh before taking the joint back. “i’ve never seen you around before.” she comments, and your cheeks burn in a bit of embarrassment; though the weed helps numb out the humiliation. “i’m y/n—“ you begin to introduce yourself, but she cuts you off. “no, i know who you are, y/n. we have gym class together.” she reminds you, only adding onto the sheepish blush on your face.
“i meant, i’ve never seen you around before; like outside of school.” she elucidates, and you nod. “i don’t usually come to these sort of things…” you trail off, “… but regina’s been helping me come out of my shell.” you explain, and she raises a brow. “regina? as in regina george?” the softball teams pitcher asks uncertainly, and you nod eagerly, your entire face lighting up like a christmas tree at the mention of the blonde. “yup, she’s over there.” you point over at the blonde who seems to be ripping jason a new one.
“no wonder your hanging out with karen. well, i can certainly see why regina wanted you to be a part of the plastics.” dani declares with a glimmer in her eyes, there’s something in her tone you can’t quite place. you let out this confused little chuckle, “what do you mean by that?” you ask curiously, yet a bit carefully. “you’re beautiful.” she clarifies, and your cheeks heat up due to the unexpected compliment.
your gaze shyly meets hers, and even though it isn’t the same as when regina calls you that; it still makes you smile. “thank you.” you respond, and your soft voice makes the brunette grin. “you’re welcome, i’m just being honest…” she trails off a bit shyly, and dani’s friend interrupts. “you guys wanna head down to the basement and take hits from the bong i brought?” the basketball player asks, as he pulls a mini bong out from one of his large pockets.
“you wanna come?” dani asks hopefully, taking your hand in hers, rubbing the back of your hand with the pad of her thumb. you look over at karen who nods encouragingly, “i—“ you’re about to turn down the offer, when regina’s harsh voice cuts you off. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” the furious sound of the girl you’ve had a hopeless crush on for years, causes you to spin around. there’s burning fury in her gaze, and for a moment, you think she’s going to yell at you. your heart races nervously as you think about regina being angry at you.
“gina—“ you try, but regina pries dani’s hand off of yours, taking a step in front of you, practically wedging herself between you two. it isn’t up until this moment that you realize regina wasn’t looking at you with all that rage… she was looking at dani. “we were just inviting your friends to smoke in the basement.” dani’s friend from earlier interrupts, responding for the softball player. regina’s gaze flickers to him. her wrath is enough to get the stoned boy to falter slightly, shifting from one foot to another, “did you wanna come…?” he asks uncertainly, trying to figure out why the blonde was so visibly upset.
regina quirks a brow, looking at dani. “i don’t think your friend here would like that very much. i think she wants y/n all too herself while you try your luck with karen.” regina’s voice is catty while there’s an underlying sense of anger laced throughout it. your belly flips nervously. you glance at dani who looks at you for a moment, before she looks back at regina. “i didn’t realize you were her keeper, regina.” the softball pitcher talks back to the queen bee, who’s brows quirk towards her hairline. by now there are a few people watching curiously as regina crosses her arms, “anything that pertains to her, is my business.” the blonde’s tone is sharp as a blade, and her eyes are deadly serious.
“and if you think for a second i’m going to let some wannabe babe ruth try and get lucky with her in gretchen’s fucking basement…” regina trails off, her seething voice causes dani to shake her head in disbelief. “woah, hold on— i just wanted to smoke with her. and even if i did have some underlying intention… what do you mean you “let” her? last i checked y/n is her own person. she can decide who she wants to hang around all night. following the prissy queen bee, or having actual fun.” dani smirks, and regina’s fingernails dig into her her upper arms.
“i’m standing right here, and i wasn’t going to go down there anyways. i came with regina.” you say as sternly as you can, and regina’s eyes flicker to you. she exhales through her nostrils, releasing a tiny breath of relief she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. dani scoffs, “so that’s what you are now? regina’s puppy? you know, you used to have your own style, and i’d see you hanging out on your own. i always thought you were cool, because you were so out of touch with social norms…” dani trails off, shaking her head in dismay. “… now you go wherever regina goes.” she finishes as she calls you out.
SMACK
before you can even think about saying something, the sound of regina’s open hand meeting dani’s left cheek elicits a loud slapping noise to sound throughout the room. the room goes quiet. regina’s palm is stinging after coming into contact with the jocks cheek, there are gasps and murmurs that fill the suddenly quiet room. dani looks dumbfounded for two seconds before a wave of humiliation washes over her. “if you want to continue being a part of the softball team, or have any sort of social status, you’ll keep your nose out of my business.” she hisses threateningly.
dani scoffs, looking at you and shaking her head. she turns to leave and you look at regina, who now has a satisfied smile etched onto her lips. “now, where were we? oh yeah, we were drinking our sangria’s…” regina interlocks her hand with yours, the same hand that just slapped dani. she leads you away from the shocked gazes and hushed whispers. the last fifteen minutes were playing in your head like a broken record. regina was upset about dani flirting with you; she was more upset than you’d ever seen. you couldn’t help but wonder why. maybe your feelings for regina weren’t as one sided as you thought.
a/n: sorry this is a little long… jealous regina makes my coochie pulse flutter
taglist: @xvyzxx @spideyznss @whateveryouwantsee11 @alwaysgoodnight @chaoticcoffeequeen @mcu-junkie @lottienatswife @vanessashands @natashas-whore @southelroys @dandelions4us @ylenabelxva @probs-reading-fanfics @dont-emily-me @luz-enjoyer @flocon-neigeux @jjiwoo06 @aminetil @pyro-les @tyler-06 @justlovemaths @teenybean @emskies @tulipatheticee @marvelwomenarehoto
i’m so sorry if it didn’t tag u or give u the notification, tumblr wasnt letting me :/
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sleepershell · 5 months
Text
Study Sesh
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pairing coriolanus snow x capitol!fem!reader
content coryo is his own warning, ambitious reader, relatively nice coryo, 18+ nsfw minors DNI pls, oral sex (female receiving & male receiving), slight use of force, gentle dom
synopsis you offer your best friend Coryo something he can’t refuse when he’s over at your house
wc 2222
Coriolanus Snow never paid attention the way I wanted him to. Even with the house all to ourselves, my parents away attending to business, he was studying. It’d been weeks since I’d gotten him to come over to hang out and even then he chose to come over and study. I let out a long sigh.
“Coryo, can we please do something else?”
His eyes didn’t even lift from the book his nose was buried in. “Soon. We have a paper due on this in a week.”
“Don’t remind me.” I huffed. “I'm not even as far as you are.”
Still focused on the page, he slid my own copy across the table, closer to me. “Then you should be reading.”
I took the book begrudgingly and opened to where I’d left off. I couldn’t focus on any of the words with him sitting right there, so I hopped up from my seat and began to pace about the room, book held out in front of me. It was a sunny winter day, and our big drawing room windows let in huge swaths of sunlight. They felt pleasantly warm on my arms through my silken shirt sleeves.
Sudden movement made me jump as Coryo set down his book. “Would you please stop that pacing, I can’t concentrate at all!” He was such a grump most of the time. It made him all the more fun to tease.
“Oh, but I can’t concentrate without pacing.”
“Well, do it elsewhere, then.”
“That would defeat the purpose of having you over, wouldn’t it?”
He looked at me, his mouth pursed, before beginning to stand. “You’re right.”
“No, no, no, no.” I rushed over to him, gently grasping his arm. “I just won’t study.”
He sat back down in the sitting chair I’d dragged over to the table for him. He would never be so careless with my parents’ furniture, so I made sure to always do what I could to accommodate him. I was the only one in school who knew how he lived. It was by accident, truly. We’d been very young when I’d followed him home from school. His family had insisted on me coming in once I knocked despite Coriolanus being horribly upset at my being there. But I’d never told a soul. I think in a way it was a relief for him to have one person who knew, one person he could talk to. Not that he often would. He preferred to hold that part of him very close. I was his best friend and, still, I felt I couldn't get him to see me. Occasionally he’d take comfort in me but his focus was always elsewhere.
Satisfied that he wasn’t going anywhere, I left him alone to go sit in the wide outcropping sill of one of the windows. It was even warmer there, and I felt like a cat all perched up with my knees to my chest. He was so solemn as he read, his eyebrows scrunched in focus. A beautiful blonde curl fell in front of his face. He remained still but for his breathing, as if he hadn’t noticed. As he turned the page, I watched his strong fingers. He was able to hold the book open with one hand, the other pressed to his lips. I listened as the grandfather clock ticked on. Wondered for the better part of an hour whether he’d ever look up, whether he’d ever see me.
“Coryo?”
He turned his intense eyes up to me.
I stood and unbuttoned the front of my blouse, letting it fall to my sides and reveal the white lace brassiere beneath.
He blinked but didn’t spare a gaze at my chest. “I’m busy right now.”
I crossed the room to him, slipping off my loafers on the way and leaving my blouse behind. He was practically hunched over the book. I placed my hands on the back of his perfectly tailored red jacket. He was so good at appearing perfect, wasn’t he? Sometimes I hated him for it. In truth, my own parents liked him better than me. But as I felt the hardness of his shoulders and the heat through the fabric, I realized exactly how I could get his attention.
I leaned forward, curling my arms around the front of him. My face nestled into his neck, I took a deep breath of his scent—the faintest whiff of human sweat behind clean linen and flowering roses. He hummed as I whispered into his ear.
“I think it’s time for a break.”
He tensed. “(Y/n), you know I can't. I need to keep my place at the top.”
I grumbled and let him go, pacing back to where I’d left the shirt. I unhooked my skirt there, dropping it in a heap at my ankles. When I turned to look at him, he’d taken out a damned pencil and was underlining something in the book. I stomped toward him and placed my palms firmly on the cool wood of the table.
“Coriolanus, you’ll need more than good grades on your side and you know it.” Finally, I had his attention. He was frowning at me, as usual, but it was a start. “I can get you the rest, but I won’t be so inclined if you can’t even spare a moment to indulge me.”
The book slapped shut as he removed his thumb. “What are you doing?” He looked at me like an adversary. I felt a fire in my core knowing that I could get him riled up. It meant he knew I wasn't like most of those other idiots at the Academy. I didn’t study because I didn't care much about my grades despite having the aptitude. I was assured a comfortable life regardless. I doubted he saw anyone as an equal, so I’d have to settle for being a worthy opponent.
I crouched down, crawling toward him under the table like a stalking cat. As I kneeled before him he looked down at me with a peculiar expression.
“Mr. Snow, I think you’ll find it quite hard to claw your way to the top without some extra cash in your pockets.” The crotch of his pants was beginning to look a bit too tight. I bent forward to place a kiss on it and heard him hiss in response.
“You’re obscene, you know that?”
“What’s obscene, Mr. Snow, is the wealth my parents are drowning in.” I leaned my head on his thigh, peering up at him as innocently as I could manage. “Wealth I can influence in the direction I’d like it to go. And they do so love you. It wouldn’t even be a hard sell.”
I could see the ghost of a smile on his face and knew I’d said the right thing. “Call me President.”
“Yes, President Snow.” I said it prettily, and his smile broadened at the sound.
“You’ve decided to bribe me like I’m a whore.” He said, all the while undoing his trousers. I was getting exactly what I wanted, but the deal was even sweeter for him, I knew.
His hardness sprang from his briefs with power. I ran a fingertip along its length. It was already leaking at the tip, and I brushed over it causing him to shudder. Without breaking eye contact, I licked it off my finger.
“Oh fuck,” he muttered. His hips tipped forward the slightest bit, clearly yearning for me to take him in my mouth. And I did. With one hand gripped around the warm base, I slid my lips over him. He was larger than I’d realized before, so I began slowly, only taking half of it. He groaned, and I had to press my own legs together in response to the twinge between them. I was able to touch my lips to my hand after a few bobs of my head, and as I descended onto him, he seemed to come to life.
I felt his hands both rest gently on the back of my head as I moved, making sure I knew not to back off too far. If I did, I would find the end to that gentleness. His breathing was quickened which made me respond by increasing my own speed. That must have been it for him, because I felt his hands turn to stone as he began bucking his hips, thrusting himself further into my mouth.
As he fucked, I could feel the end of him hitting me in the throat, almost too far but not quite. He was groaning little affirmations to me then, as he used me to get chase the feeling building up inside him. Saliva was beginning to fall from my mouth around his cock, and I could feel some of it running down my chin and throat, sliding onto my chest. He pushed himself to the end and held himself in my throat, giving me no warning before spilling heat inside me. I felt the twitch and his whole body go still as his cum pumped into me. It was so deep it took no effort to swallow. When he relaxed, my head lolled to rest on his thigh. I listened as his breathing evened out. I stood.
“Well,” My voice was hoarse so I cleared my throat. “Would you like to get back to work now?”
He frowned up at me again, stood so fast I could hardly register it. His face leaned in so close to me, thumb brushed my chin and the other hand curled around my waist. I was suddenly very aware of how little fabric covered my body. My skin turned to gooseflesh. He peered into my face with those wide, puppy dog eyes of his. I couldn’t summon any words.
“I’m not through with you.” He growled.
My butt had been pressed into the edge of the table behind me, and he pushed my back onto it as well. The drawing room chandelier was right above me, shining in the sun.
A finger traced over my thigh. He was standing there looking down on me, like an appraisal. I thought about cringing from his gaze but didn’t think I could even feign being that demure. This was exactly what I wanted. His finger moved across the silk of my panties. Our eyes locked, and a smile returned, his nostrils flaring slightly in amusement. I was certainly soaked.
“(Y/n), is this really all you want in exchange for a fortune?”
It wasn’t, but the rest seemed like a hard sell.
“No.”
He raised a brow in question.
“Finish me first, President Snow, then I’ll tell you.”
He shook his head, smile growing even wider. He disappeared from my view as my panties were tugged to the side. Hot breath grazed my exposed sex. An impatient whine slipped from my throat, and then his mouth was there, all there, placing a flurry of kisses all around before licking his tongue gently up my center.
“Fuck, Coryo please, just—“
His tongue circled my clit, finally giving me what I was dying for. My ass clenched, pushing myself into him harder. Hands wrapped around my thighs, roughly grabbing as he began flicking his tongue on my most sensitive part. I let myself go limp. He’d never gone down on me before, and it was like he’d been starving the entire time. He spat on my pussy and licked it into a dripping mess. I felt teeth gently nip at my clit, driving my pulse and breath to quicken.
He was moaning, saying words I couldn’t decipher because his mouth was preoccupied. My name was certainly one of them, though. The vibrations of his moaning mixed with the rhythmic press of his tongue was pushing me closer and closer. The pleasure only increased until I was teetering on the edge, trying to hold onto that feeling. His own noises were so loud I’d have expected he was the one getting serviced. And then his fingers slid into me and I couldn’t hold on. I was a spasming mess, whining as my pussy clenched around his fingers. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, feel it everywhere else.
When I opened my eyes, Coryo was fastening his pants, wiping wetness from his chin.
“Well?” He inquired, without looking my way.
I pushed myself up, didn’t want us to be too different in height. In fact, I think sitting on the table leant me an inch or two. On the floor below me, I saw a dark spot on the carpet. He’d cum a second time while buried in my cunt.
“Coryo, what’s that thing you always say, about Snow? About your family?”
His blue eyes fell on me, bright and intense.
“Snow lands on top.”
I quirked my head to the side. “I want that, too. So I’m not asking for release. I’m asking you to make me a Snow.”
The corners of his lips turned up but his brows creased, wary. He returned to the place between my legs, this time holding my face, searching it.
“You want me to marry you?”
And l knew exactly who he was, so I capitalized on the moment. “I want to belong to you, President Snow.”
The ocean in his eyes caught fire.
Xx
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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months
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Lego still not sponsoring me (dark!Konig x fem!Reader)
Konig is a nerd who needs to get sprayed with water for being a fucking creep. You're an adorable cashier at the Lego Store in Berlin who doesn't know any better and is too nice to lose. He will have you. Mostly because he wants someone to do his Lego sets with.
Details count: 2922 AO3 TW and Tags: Dub-con/Non-con, age gap, size difference, kidnapping, awkward colonel Konig, nerd Konig, hurt/comfort, Konig's POV(mostly), awkward German, yandere Konig.
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You didn’t want to build Millenium Falcon with him. 
You didn’t want to shower or eat, you didn’t want to do anything besides crying, and even though your tears, as he expected, were beautiful and adorable, it was kinda hard for König to take care of your mental and physical needs while he was rock hard from watching you cry so sweetly. 
König is patient, kind, and a model citizen through and through. Why are you upset? He is doing everything he can, just to make you smile! Seriously, Schatzi, the desire to make him as miserable as you possibly can doesn’t make you pretty or cute or even the least bit adorable. Good thing that he is used to feeling sad and kinda of bullied – you’re lucky he doesn’t even try to feel good anymore. Not in his destiny book to live a good life. — I brought food. 
You groan lightly, whimpering somewhere in the corner of his basement. To your justification, his basement is a bit dirty. He forgot to visit the house for months after deployment, which was never enough to fill out the blanks of loneliness in the empty rooms. His dogshits methods of choosing decorations also made the mere existence in the house a hard mission even in itself. He looked at the anime posters in the guest rooms, which made him want to sell the property to anyone willing to pay 50 Euros for the processing fees. The posters(Sword Art Online because why the hell not, he likes cool swords and a power fantasy about a loser getting the chick) and artwork of his queen and savior, The Busty Blond Lady From Fate because, unlike those waifu-obsessed freaks, he did have a life and not enough time to actually remember her name. Something about light sabers. Or cats. — Are you going to kill me? 
He sighs because you sound like a broken record. All the time – the questions about his intentions, like you can’t see the tent in his pants every time you open your eyes, about letting you go, about at least allowing you to text your family that you decided to change your country of residence and would need to revoke your German visa. You’re way more soft than he thought you’d initially be – no fighting, no arguing, just pure terror and desire to die every time his hands brush over you. König is a sweet guy, as sweet as someone like him can be – but he only has a few weeks until his next mission, and even a few days of your moping around is bound to make him not just blue-balled, but also very, extremely, offensively hot-headed. 
He spent two days with you chained up in his basement and, he thinks, that should be enough for foreplay. He is extremely generous and kind – usually, at this point, he’d already start breaking the fingers of whoever poor fuck is his torture victim for the mission. 
— I don’t want to kill you. 
You whimper – somehow, his answer didn’t calm you down. Fucking women and their inability to talk to their kidnappers – he considers spiking your food just this once, so he could have a nice session with your little drunk self and some roofies but, of course, he is a nice guy who brought you takeout in a reheatable container, with a cute plastic fork and some sparkling water in a glass, just so you won’t feel like he is making you eat some garbage. It’s good food, too – he’d love to cook like this, but the heights of his skills are runny eggs and burnt coffee. He hopes you like the Italian because it’s the most inoffensive stuff he could have brought you without resorting to pizza and cup noodles. He will never let you eat cup noodles on his watch. 
— Are you going to rape me? 
He can’t exactly say no because, as a matter of fact, pulling your cute body under his is one of his intentions. He wanted to do it since he was you in this fucking store, but, of course. saying this to a pretty girl is lame. And completely counter-productive. And would make him a villain in your eyes, even though he tries so fucking hard to be a hero. He can make you feel good if you were to just open your pretty legs for him and moan under his tongue – god knows, he wants to make you feel good. He wonders what would it take for him to please you. If he could have a full-time job at this. 
— Nein. Thought I told you already. 
— I don’t…I shouldn’t believe you. 
He shook his head, pushing the plate(he had to go out of his way to actually put the pasta from the tray to a proper plate, enjoy this, woman) towards you. You’re adorable like this – naked, trembling, a bit too weak to actually fight him over not eating anything for the past two days – you’re repeating the same conversation over and over again and König wouldn’t mind living in a groundhog day if the loop would end with his fucking you on that thin mattress each time. 
Speaking of mattresses – he needs to get you a thicker one. 
Speaking of thicker mattresses – he needs to relocate you into his bedroom as soon as possible. 
Speaking of his bedroom – he is fucking bricked. 
— If you don’t trust me, why do you ask? 
You bite your lips. He can see you’re hungry and thirsty – he doesn’t want to forcefully feed you, so, yeah, you better be very hungry very soon. He pushes the plate towards you, hoping you won’t launch it on his head. He survived worse, a 6’4 British dude in a ski mask falling on him with the speed of Brexit, but getting hit by a plate when your angry girlfriend is being an angry girlfriend is…the best thing that could ever happen to him, actually. Gott, he is miserable. 
— I…I don’t know. Don’t want to get killed. 
— I won’t kill you. 
— But you will hurt me. 
— I don’t have to do that, Liebling. 
No, he doesn’t. 
But he sees the way your plushy thighs are squeezing into that tiny corner where your mat is, your squishy body getting all shaky and trembly, your lips in a tight line with tiny blood droplets from biting on them too much – and, by his fucking god, you’re beautiful. He wants to make you wet, to make you squirm, to make you beg and cry for mercy as he pounds into the sweetness of your cunt. He wants to try you on the inside and out, lick you all over from the inside, and then make you lick your love juices from his lips. 
König knows he is hard and can’t really hide it – it’s useless now, really, he is being very nice and considerate to you. Changing your life is hard, especially with how quickly you moved to his place – like a good boyfriend, he should help you adjust. And aid you in recognizing that he is, in fact, your boyfriend and future husband. The perfect partner to ever exist. — What is it? 
— Pasta. It’s…it’s good. Should be good. He is nervous, anxious. Seeing a pretty girl in her natural habitat – a Lego store – is one thing. He was barely able to talk to you properly, especially right after his deployment, where the only female attention he ever got was Roze asking to cover her or additional female soldiers groaning in pain as he stomped them. But you…he shouldn’t be colonel around you – absolutely not. You’re soft and civilian, you’re as polite as a girl in a basement could be, and you deserve to have something nice for once in your life. Licking his lips, König gently picks up a fork and presses a small amount of pasta – rich, creamy, with some nice cheese that smells divine - -against your lips. 
You refuse.
A smart move, he could have poisoned it – so he thinks for a few seconds, staring at you like a smart girlie you are, and then – lifts his hood. If only barely, revealing his scarred chin and bruised lips. The initial swelling after getting his head bumped by a guy who was speaking like an edgy teenager in the Counter-Strike lobby was already gone by the time he managed to get you into his basement – but no amount of rest could hide all other marks from his job. 
Despite being a seasoned mercenary with hundreds of killed targets and completed objectives, he feels…insecure. You’re a nice girl, a good girl, the type that used to look at him with hatred while he was bullied at school. Hatred or pity – but you only look at him with fear, and it cements his understanding that you’re not going to give in to loving him so easily.
König sighs deeply, his lips, curved into that awkward, boyish smile that creeps on his face every time he as much as thinks about you, now transforming into a scowl as you proceed to whimper and try to get lost in the wall behind you. Like he wouldn’t be able to track your scent if you would disappear. He slowly presses his fork towards his mouth, chewing on the food – showing you that it’s not poisoned. 
He smiles again when he sees you slowly parting your lips, expecting him to feed you with less of a fuss. He’d propose something else – maybe even untying your hands and allowing you to actually for yourself, but something in your helpless state made his cock throb in his pants. God, König knows he isn’t his strongest soldier, but could he please make you less adorable? He doesn’t want to push you on your knees and make you suck on him until he whimpers, but the way you lick all of the cheese from your lips and try your best to look presentable in front of him… The process of feeding someone shouldn’t really be sexual, but König gently pushes the hair away from your face and lifts up the fork over and over, sometimes only changing to bring a glass of water to your lips. He can do this all day. Every day. Pleasing you already becomes second nature – and he spends most of his life thinking that the only thing he can take care of is his rifle and a few tortured enemies that need their teeth extracted. You require gentle handling – and he wants nothing more but to give you that. Just…a bit later. Preferably after the already came in your pussy at least two or three times and made you choke on his dick as a little thank-you gift. 
You finish eating after a short while, thanking him for bringing you a napkin to clean your lips. König gently caresses your head, enjoying the sensation of your hair under his palm – it’s like petting a cat. A soft little pet just for him and no one else – if only he could actually bring you to like him. He has a few bond activities in mind, though. — You liked it, ja? 
You lick your lips again, and his breath hitches. This is going to be hard, this is going to be impossible, it’s worse than having to work with high Krueger on a ship that made everyone feel like they were the ones doing crack in the backroom of their makeshift base. 
— I…I did. 
He pets your head again like you’re his pet – and you gently move your head to lean into his touch. Perhaps you’re dumber than he thinks. Or way smarter – a clever strategy to make him relax and nice to you without making him too suspicious. You slowly get back into your corner, but König wouldn’t have any of it – he drags you back by your arm, making you whimper and sob in his hold. It’s bad, he doesn’t want you to squirm from under him as much as you do, but…if you don’t want to be a good girl, he might as well force you to. 
You cry as he pushes you deep into the corner, his hands roaming over your body. Thank god he ripped your clothes before you woke up – now there isn’t anything protecting you from his hands, not even that adorable bra he ripped in pieces because, as much as he loved wearing a uniform with straps and buttons everywhere, he could not figure out how to take this thing off you without breaking it. The last time he was sleeping with a woman, she wore a sports bra that could be taken off easily. It’s your fault that you decided to be more girly, really. Not his. 
His hands cup your breasts roughly. Tugs and twists your nipples, a few shaky moans telling him exactly how sensitive you are – he might not have a girl in a hot minute, too busy with being the best freaking mercenary in the world, but even he knows how to take care of a pretty thing like you. Your tits fit in his hands perfectly, even more, reasons to believe you were just made for him. Not for some lame job at a Lego store counter – you should be waiting on your knees in his bedroom, with your mouth open wide and neat to fit his cock right in. With some sweet things lingering on your tongue as he bullies himself right in, getting what he deserves for protecting peace – and installing violence – while doing his job. He might not be the best freaking guy around, but he deserves something nice. 
He pinches your nipples until they’re firm and swollen, every little cry escaping from your lips is only encouraging him to proceed. Licks on the open skin of your neck until his eneve stubble makes you whimper from how sensitive you are – it should be painful, he thinks, with how bloody the little bite marks from his teeth have become. 
König marks you as thoroughly as possible, smiling each time you cry and beg for him to stop. You’re changing between bad German and good English, between loud cries and small whimpers, which he can’t determine from pleasure to pain. Not like he cares, too determined to make you cry his name – even though you probably don’t know it. All of his desires to claim you taking full power now, not listening to the way you plead with him. Whimper for him. Your skin is a clear canvas, allowing him to paint you with hickeys and marks, enjoying the little blood droplets covering your collarbones. 
— Quiet, please. Don’t…don’t move, Schatzi. I don’t want to hurt you. 
— Please, please, just…anything but… — Won’t take long. Promise. 
— I don’t want to- — Quiet. I know you don’t, Liebling. Just…Scheisse, you…fuck. 
— Stop! — Can’t. I apologize, Schatzen. Relax for me, ja?
He whispers, he whimpers, he is almost out of his mind when he can finally put his tongue on your swollen nipples. For some weird, depraved reason, he almost expects the milk to start flowing from your chest, allowing him to drink up as much as he wants. If he could get you pregnant, he might enjoy it for a few months – although having a kid on his hip isn’t as fun as it could have. He tried to babysit Hutch kids once when he brought them to base – and it was the worst fucking day of his life. Besides, little children can’t be around Legos – it's already a deal breaker for someone like him. 
Speaking of legos…
You wiggle in his grasp, as good as you can with your hands still in the handcuffs – he should give you that one, at least you aren’t just laying lifelessly in front of him. At least you’re putting up a fight. At least he doesn’t feel too bad about restraining you without proper reasoning. You lick your lips again, that cute tongue of yours going over all the bite marks. You take a deep breath, shaking in his hold. God, he can just look in your face the whole day – barely knows how to handle himself around you. — I…I thought you wanted to…build this set with me? Smart girl. Way smarter than he gave you credit for – you know how to make him stop in his tracks and finally look at you differently. Maybe, you’re too good for him. Maybe, he doesn’t really care about that. Millennium Falcon, still sitting in the box – König hoped you’d start slowly putting it together but, seemingly, you need a bit of encouragement. The only thing that could tug him away from your breasts is the expensive set sitting just next to him. 
Might start bonding with you as well. He tugs away from your nipples with a loud pop, an obnoxiously wet sound emerging as a thin line of saliva connects your breasts and his tongue. You whimper when he smiles, that scarred face of his twisting in a huge grin. Knows he’s not the most charming person around, but it’s not like you have any choice now – not with the limited options he gave you. Like a good girl, you’d probably pick doing Lego Sets with him than taking his cock in that tight pussy of yours. He’d be satisfied with any outcome. — J…ja. I’d like that.  He has to give this one to you – you really know how to get a man going.
Bu building this insane set with him, that is.
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someonegoood · 30 days
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MY WHOLE LIFE pt. 2 ✫ mason mount
part 1, part 2, final part.
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in which life does not go on after Mason breaks your heart over and over again. (brother’s best friends troop).
CONTAINS: brother’s best friend troop, angst, some smut (not really explicit) & fluff ! age gap, arguments...
AUTHOR'S NOTE: here's part 2 ! Mason made his first goal for United and I'm emotional 💞 I'll do part 3 later
taglist: @dreamingofautopia @xjval @sunflower-tia @sad-fridge2323 @girlidekanymore @borbolwra3
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Chelsea added to their story.
Your phone notified you, immediately dampening your mood. Everything was related to him.
It’s been two months since Mason shattered your heart after that nightmare of a night. The funny thing is that a part of you didn’t hate him, a part of you that still loved him existed. 
You had waited for him to text you to ask how you were and if you were free to hang out. And by the time you realized that he wasn’t going to, it was too late… too awkward for you to ask as well. So, both of you had resorted to ignorance and hostility. 
Life eventually went on, even though you had cut one of the most important people out of your life. And you’d see yourself by night, in your dreams. All these faces in the crowded city of London, and for some reason, you’d still try to find his. Mason was no longer yours.
Although he never was.
The first time Mason saw you after that night was a couple of months later, at a family lunch. The two families —Mounts and yours—had united in your family's garden for a little lunch to catch up on life. You had turned twenty and Lyon was old news. 
But Mason’s eyes were stuck on your body as he watched you sit between his sister and your brother just before him. Sipping from a glass of wine that you most likely didn’t like, he glanced at you.
Your brother had brought his new girlfriend with him and even though you were still as close as ever, his attention was on the pretty blonde talking to your nanny.
Mason had spent so much of his life avoiding you, but after the night of the party, he just wanted to make sure you were okay. Although he just couldn’t. 
—Dear, will you serve me a little piece of that cake? —Your mother had her plate in her hand, waiting for Mason to react. It took him about five seconds to come out of his trance and then he served her what she had ordered.
He was too busy thinking about you.
—So, Mason… when is your next match? Your dad told me you were playing for England. —Your mom tried to lighten up the mood since you were not bickering with Mason as you were on other occasions. 
Mason smiled up while you looked at him and caught a glimpse of his beautiful Cheshire cat smile.
—I’m playing next week, on Sunday… —He looked around at everyone and proceeded. —You are all invited, of course. 
After an hour or two, everyone stood up, scattering around the decorated garden. Mason grabbed his phone from the table and headed to the kitchen in search of a beer.
In the background, the voices of the two families blurred together as you finished washing your plate. Both Mount sisters were busy playing card games with their mother and your brother was having a talk about politics, which you were not at all interested in. You had no one to talk to.
Suddenly, you feel someone behind you trying to open the refrigerator. That bloody refrigerator, which, being so old, could not be opened correctly. You turned around, not expecting to see Mason looking at you.
You headed to the refrigerator to open it, so Mason moved from where he was previously standing, leaning on the kitchen counter. You gave the refrigerator a little kick and it opened.
—Thanks… —He said grabbing the beer, the tension being palpable in the air. After a long pause, you continued:
—How are you? —you asked, he could feel your eyes staring into his side profile, but he stared at the sun setting over the British landscape.
—I’m alright.
Scoring some scarce points with Chelsea has become almost impossible under a year ago now, and you really felt sorry for him, knowing everything he and his team put in.
—How are you holding up? —you stood next to him, nudging his shoulder with yours, before looking down at the floor. You felt the look of pity that Mason was giving you, but you tried to ignore it.
—Thank you, really. 
—Mase...
He looked in your eyes this time, he looked so sad, so broken. So desperate for a hug. You didn’t pressure him to answer your question, instead, you gently placed your head on his shoulder looking along the garden in silence.
—It will be alright, you know. —He hummed, knowing you were still hurt because of what he had said.
—I know. —You whispered back. —And don't worry much about scoring, in the least expected moments your shot is the one that serves the most.
He hated how much you believed him because at that moment he felt like the six-year-old boy with dreams bigger than the world itself, who thought everything was possible. 
Mason looked down at you, the smile on his lips was enough to melt your heart, and threw his head back in a laugh. 
—I don't think I’m ever getting rid of you.
Now it was your turn to laugh. After all the laughing he noticed how your eyes shifted from his own to his lips, and then he remembered why he was avoiding you in the first place. He did a face.
—I know, I know. —You said with a sad look on your face.
—You know I’m too old for you, right? —Mason whispered as he leaned his forehead on yours.
—I’m in it for the long game, Mount.
It felt like your heart was twisting and stuttering, sometimes beating too quickly that you were afraid it was going to push you over the edge. You wanted him to notice, to do something to fix it. 
Time went on flying, the last few days being hectic. It was already Sunday and today Mason was playing with England and obviously, you were more than proud. He had invited your brother —his best friend—, you and your family to watch him from the special box for family and friends.
The cold air hits your face as soon as you enter the box with your family. Excited, you see Debbie and Tony, and their children already seated. You were so nervous that your hands were even sweating.
You sit next to Stacey, Mason's older sister. She gives you a smile.
—Nervous about the game? —she asks.
—A bit, yes... —you say as you settle down, your eyes scanning the pitch, looking for him. For Mason. 
—This should be an easy game, England has a better team.
—You never know. —you reply. You were almost freezing, you only had the basic England t-shirt on.
Stacey noticed that you were shivering from the cold and decided to take off the sweatshirt she had tied around her shoulders. She put it on your lap and smiled.
—Put it on, otherwise, you'll freeze to death here. —she said, laughing.
—I'm... —You said about to deny it. For a second, you thought about the cold that you would catch without the sweatshirt, so you decided to take it. —Oh, never mind.
The sweatshirt was white and had his number and surname printed on the front, in a blue font. This made you remember the uncountable times when you stole Mason's sweatshirts just to have his number on you.
Stacey, without you seeing, grabbed her phone and texted his brother: "Just wanted to say that she's here and she's got your name on her sweatshirt. Good luck! We're all rooting for you. And don't worry, she'll wait for you."
All of a sudden, Summer, Mason's niece, came up to you asking if she could sit in your lap to have a better look at the pitch. It was no secret that Summer enjoyed seeing you, as she had grown up seeing your brother and you in the Mount household.
—Look over there, Summer! There is your uncle. —said Stacey, and both Summer and you looked over to where the players were entering the enormous pitch. There he was, beautiful as always.
The whistle was blown and the match started. Everyone was immersed in the excitement of the box, watching the match carefully. The atmosphere was electric, and each second increased the tension.
—Yes! —You screamed when Mason's friend, Declan, scored the opening goal, feeling your heart beat against your chest rapidly. Summer looked up at you with wide eyes, before she started giggling. You smiled and leaned down to where she was and kissed her on the forehead.
The second half started and your eyes only followed Mason running up and down the pitch. Only one goal was scored in the whole 45 minutes of the first half, that being Declan's goal.
Abruptly, Stones stole the ball from a player on the opposing team. He ran alone, jumped over some defenders and, feinting, the ball passed to Henderson on the right side. He analyzed the position of the players spread around the pitch before passing it to Foden, who was almost close to the goal.
He passed it to Mason and he, avoiding the players, aimed and kicked with all his strength.
The world went silent for a moment. He had scored.
After realizing that he had scored a goal, Mason ran to the end of the field, right where you were. The atmosphere was pure shouting, people jumping and celebrating but you only had eyes for Mason.
He looked towards the box looking for those who truly love him and just at that precise moment, you connected glances. With a shaky breath, you stood up from your seat and waved to him, also trying to hold Summer up with your other arm.
Mason's heart melted when he saw that scene and many things went through his head: he couldn't believe he had scored a goal after so long and he also couldn't believe how beautiful you looked with his niece in your arms.
In celebration, he pointed to both of you and you could only sigh in love. The game ended with a great performance from Mason and a win for England.
As soon as he stepped into the box, he scanned the room for you, but Summer caught him off guard.
—Uncle Mase! —she ran toward him and he picked her up, planting a kiss on her cheek while she wrapped her small arms around his neck.
—My favourite person! —His eyes fell on you and he didn't know if it was his imagination or the fact that he hadn't seen you in days, but you looked prettier than usual.
You were standing at the back, watching Mason greet his family. You felt shy and awkward, which made you hate the feeling even more. All you wanted was love from him and for that, you haven't slept well in the days after the family lunch with the Mount's.
—I played well, all thanks to you. —He kissed her head and his niece giggled. The little girl ran toward her mother and then closed the door, leaving you and Mason all alone. Your family had congratulated Mason before and told you they were waiting outside.
—How have you been? —His voice was gentle like he was afraid to say something.
—Mason! —you laughed. —You just scored a tremendous goal for England and you ask me how am I? Sometimes I don't understand you.
—Alright, alright. You have a point! —he laughed, definitely not missing those nervous butterflies in his stomach. He felt like a little boy.
His gaze searched yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. He scratched the back of his neck and then looked at your sweatshirt with his surname and number.
His number looked very good on you, he thought.
He gazed at your lips and he came dangerously close to you. You stepped back, hitting the table. Mason was looking straight into your eyes when he suddenly grabbed you by the waist and sat you on the table. You let out a little squeal. The air was thick with tension, and all you craved was to pull him close and kiss him passionately.
—We-we should go. —you said, clearing your throat. —Your family is waiting.
Quickly, Mason grabbed your wrist.
—Mase... You don’t have feelings. You don’t have a heart.
Now he’s frowning as he tries to unravel your words. His breath hitches.
—I feel things… —your heart twirls with the way his voice sounds. You had always loved his voice. How croaky it was. But you never imagined that it would turn your entire world upside down to hear him say that.
Pushing his hand down, you look back, weak and concerned. He worries you might have suddenly regretted all of this. That you would walk away and never want to talk to him ever again.
What he didn't know is that he's everything you were imagining those long nights… he had never kissed you, not even touched you.
—It’s okay if you want to stop- —he said, while you slid your hands under his t-shirt. Running up and down your hands through his lower torso, you felt his abs contract.
—Mount, I'm certain that I'm okay. —you said, giggling. He smirked. Your core grows tighter with his expressions, now holding onto his broad shoulders.
Unexpectedly, you both heard from behind the closed door someone shout: —Mate, are you there? The party starts at ten, hurry!
Fuck. That was your brother.
Mason had completely forgotten about the party in honour of their win. How the fuck was he getting out of that room with a hard-on? He had to calm himself.
You, on the other side, felt your heart falls into pieces. You thought about how long you had waited for this exact moment, every time you gave your endless hope all you ended up doing was bleeding. And this time, not only he was about to leave you alone but he was going to leave you turned on.
—I'm-I'm sorry... —he said, exiting quickly from the room.
After that match, you only heard from Mason through your brother. He had told you that after the match, at the party, Mason had rejected every girl who appeared to flirt with him.
Apparently, you've had an effect on him.
Mason hated how his heartbeat boomed in his ear when he saw you standing in his parents' house, with a blue shirt that had printed out the number 19 on the back, hugging your figure. 
You had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, you had for sure gone through puberty. He didn’t like to stare but he found it hard not to sometimes. Especially on family boat trips when you would wear a bikini in front of him.
—So, we're leaving after lunch. Do you want to meet at the stadium or at home?
You took a minute to understand. —What?
—The game, remember? We're having lunch here and then driving up to watch the game. —Said your brother, while getting on the boat. About three weeks had passed since you almost kissed Mason and now you were about to hop on the Mount's boat in Portsmouth.
You had completely forgotten about the game. During your conversations with your brother, you could sense that Mason hadn't mentioned anything about that night which was, in a way, kind of relieving.
Just like you, Mason had also forgotten that your family was coming over. But when his sister sent him a text saying that your family would join him before his game, he was flabbergasted.
You both hadn't spoken since the night of the win, but you both were thinking about that interaction since then. To forget that incident, he had spoken to one of his best friends, Ben, in search of a solution.
—Mate, what you need is a good fling. Maybe you should invite someone next time you're going on a family boat day —said Ben, laughing because of what Mason was asking him.
You got on Mason's boat, feeling heavy-hearted once again. After an hour, you were seated on the floor, helping Stacey with a puzzle, after your mom expelled you from the kitchen when trying to help her. Meanwhile, Mason and his mother sat down on the couch.
—She has grown into a beautiful woman, don't you think? —His mom said teasingly, already knowing that you were not the only one fallen for someone.
—Yes, she has. —He looked at you, seeing you laugh at something his sister had said. —Mom... I think I fucked up.
—If you had fucked up, she wouldn't be here.
—No mom, I really- —Mason got interrupted by the entrance of a tall, dark-eye, skinny blond, almost gotten out from a runway. She turned toward Mason and presented herself as Daphne, a friend. Debbie now understood why her son said he had fucked up really bad.
Your brother, seeing Daphne —the supposed fling of Mason— talking with him, turned to you.
—Forget your stuff, let’s just get off this boat. Don’t turn around okay? —his hands gripping strongly your shoulders. He knew how much you liked his best friend.
You laughed and followed your brother down the steps of the boat before stopping in your tracks.
—Since when have I ever listened to you? Dear God, I- — Your mouth fell open as you turned around to be met with Mason and his mother, and the presence of a girl that looked like an actual model.
She was leaning on him and he was laughing at whatever she had to say, while Debbie looked at you with pity. You felt like he had personally ripped your heart out, for a hundred times.
—You knew?
Your brother sighed before running his hands through his hair: —She's only a side thing, a one-time fling. I mean she’s not you, but he decided to find someone before Christmas. —He shrugged his shoulders and you felt the rage creeping up your body.
—What about me? When will I be happy? —you said, crying.
That sentence broke your brother's heart.
19 years to be exact, that's the time you've been waiting for him.
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Text
It's raining cats and dogs
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My cat and dog hybrids, and random things about them! [Not proofread]
•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆
★ Brutus the german shepherd
He's a big boy alright. A startling 6'6 frame, but that doesn't stop him from acting like a little bastard. He's playful and cocky, a little protective but that's just in his instincts to protect his little herd! In his physical appearance, He's starting to grow out his buzz cut, a pair of German shepherd ears ontop. he's hoping to maybe dye a couple strands of hair blond once they're long enough. green eyes that stare into your soul, absolutely no thought process behind them
★ dolly the doberman
Everyone loves dolly. There used to be another doberman named Danny but they sent him to the pound when he bit both the farmer and his granddaughter. She used to have puppies with Danny but they didn't survive the winter, they got sick and passed the coming spring. She's a little rough around the edges but you'll love her too right? Don't let Brutus hog all the love! In her physical appearance, she has very short brown hair and a pair or doberman ears, with one of them being a little bit, ontop of her head. 5'7 with a deadly brown eyed stare.
★ bladviba the black Russian terrier
A messy mop of brown curls he calls hair sits atop his head. He's usually out in the fields observing the cattle, black eyes staring out Into the distance. The others say he used to be a fisherman's dog but then he had to find a new home since he passed away one night. Stoic and serious, he's secretly a 5'8 softie who wants to hide and cuddle you somewhere. But that bastard Brutus would probably find you in less than an hour.
★ molly the chow chow
molly may be the smallest out of all them, but that doesn't mean she won't let them do all the work. Usually she's trailing behind dolly, claiming that since their names are similar they have to stick close together. She has a short temper and a little brutish, but you'll get used to her. Spiky short brown hair, with dark black eyes that sparkle when she sees you. A 5'2 sweetheart- wait who gave molly a knife-
★ sweet pea the Samoyed
Sweet pea loves many things! You, bones, their house, sleep. Okay maybe not many things but atleast some things! Usually quiet and following you from behind, they quietly take up the role of your 6'1 guard dog. Helping you around the barn, and in exchange all you have to do is let them scent you for another 2 hours every 4 hours! Dirty white hair, with black eyes as dark as charcoal.
★ bubba the borzoi
Bubba is so fucking done with both you and the others. Can you stop fucking singing 'let me do it for you' like shut up he's trying to do his job here. He refuses to let you see the slightest smile but just know he is smiling. He's just stubborn. Like VERY stubborn. Sarcastic and empathetic, a deadly combo. He could be comforting you and then calling you a blubbering fool the next. 6/10, would bite my ass. He's a startling 6'11, with blue eyes and light blonde hair
★ princess the ragdoll
Name the most spoiled housecat who ever lived. She lives up to her name, she's been in many beauty pageants and won a many prizes. Ribbons, trophies, photographs all align the walls of her room. She'll give you a side eyed look before making you go through a 600 step beauty routine, before ever allowing you to touch her. Atleast she'll cuddle you for hours on end, so the torture was worth it all. King is the only person she respects, aside from her owners. White long curly hair, blue eyes and 5'5
★ prince the Norwegian forest cat
He's the most humble cat ever known, all he really wants is to settle down, have a couple litters, and be a good dad. But princess hated his guts and quite frankly, he hated her. He much preferred you, he wondered how you'd look with a belly full of his kits.. he'll respect your wishes, but don't mind him breaking into your room every now and then. (He leaves hair everywhere, don't let him.) Ginger fluffy hair, green eyes and 5'7
★ king the Khao manee
King could either be planning your downfall or planning the entire family you'll have together. The greatest manipulator ever known to cat kind. He could convince you orange is red and red is blue if you let him (don't let him), he manipulates princess to do things for him but now that you're here, you won't mind taking over now will you? Sandy blonde hair with heterochromiac eyes. 5'6
Bonus: the forest pack ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- ︶︶︶︶༉‧
★ Roxy the wolf
butch werewolf? Butch werewolf. She's stoic and quiet, but she's just a gentle giant. Following her brothers around, she's very obedient and surprisingly, loves gardening! Long Spiky black hair, red eyes and 6'7
★ Silas the wolf
Silas is the leader, commanding his siblings when to act and when to fall behind. But he just wants a break and to lay down, take a nice long nap. Until one of his siblings comes running to him for help. Oh well, he had a nice sleep. He loves them, he truly does, but he wants a nap in peace. Very short spiky black hair, red eyes, 6'9
★ Milo the wolf
Milo is selectively mute. With a deadpan look always on their face and they seem emotionless, but that's not the case. They're just always distracted and can't really focus on many things. Be a little patient will you? Medium long spiky black hair, red eyes, 6'6
★ Kiki the Pomeranian
Kiki is some dog hybrid they found off the road and decided they're one of them. Feral and has a big dog complex. Tries to be intimidating but they just aren't. Sometimes they watch you work on the farm from the edge of the forest, a little jealous of the animals that get to watch you everyday. Messy blonde hair, black eyes that hold the anger of a toddler being forced into A school play, and very short. 4'9
•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆
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praisethesuuun · 7 months
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One Piece characters reacting to you grabbing their boobs!
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Marco
🪽The poor guy wasn't expecting it at all. Marco was dozing with his eyes open, completely relaxed as he sat on the handrail of the Moby Dick; the light breeze ruffled his blond hair, while the sunlight made his skin and the tattoo on his chest shine. He was so relaxed and with his guard low that he didn't hear your footsteps slowly approaching behind him, as silent as a cat's footsteps hunting a bird.
🪽Marco jumped when your hands made their way around his hips, your fingers grazing his abs softly. "You scared me for a moment-yoi" he speaks, now with a calm tone instead of a worried one.
🪽The commander started to blush when your hands started to move up, more and more, until you grabbed his boobs, squeezing. Your head pressed against his back, your gentle touch on his body and sensitive parts...give him time to recover from the surprise, then you'll see some good ones. And pray that no one saw or you will never hear the end of it.
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Shanks
❤️Oh Lord, good luck with that! We all know how playful Shanks is, a shameless free spirit, always ready to do whatever he wants and prefers, especially when it comes to you. And if his little darling wants to play, then he won't shy away from the fun.
❤️Probably, you decided to tease Shanks during one of his serial drinks at the bar. He was simply beautiful in the noisy atmosphere of the club, singing and joking, while a few drops of beer soaked what little beard he had on his face. His breath caught in his throat when he saw you licking your soft lips, your fingers cold under your shirt, feeling the hot skin.
❤️"Right now?" the red head whispered to you with his signature smirk, starting to do the same to you, making your body shiver. His fingers were more calloused than yours, but they weren't unpleasant. And, at the exact moment you squeezed the captain's chest tightly, he did the exact same thing to your boobs, moving the bra and feeling you whole.
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Garp
👊Honestly, he'd been expecting this for a while. He didn't expect a cadet with so much interest in him and also quite a cute one. Garp lacked female attention, which was increasingly rare as he got older, so he'll start taking you under his wing. Expect to see him flexing his muscles more than he should when you're around there, he probably doesn't notice either, but don't let the marine notice, you don't want to ruin the fun, right?
👊"Come and watch my training tomorrow, so you will learn something". Yes of course, of course, old fox. One blow then another, a few drops of sweat venturing along his abs, hard as steel despite his age; Garp scratched his beard in a lazy way while waiting for you to get another dummy. Your eyes seemed full of stars, your curious irises moved over his body, analyzing every scar, even the smallest.
👊Your hand moved without you even realizing it, squeezing his boobs and pressing on his nipple too. Garp's face was flawless, his mouth open and his eyes wide, but he refused to shy away from the contact. Suddenly, the Vice Admiral was hotter than expected and began to sweat more: no one had ever touched him like that and he wasn't sure how to behave. "Let's not talk about it with anyone, okay? In fact...let's just pretend nothing happened!"
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Dragon
🌧The image in your head already makes you laugh. Mokey D. Dragon, the most wanted man in the world, leader of the revolutionary army, feels his legs shaking when you are around him. Your personality always finds a way to make his heart do somersaults, I question the tormented soul of man.
🌧One of your favorite things to do is to hide under his cloak, hugging him gently and covering you from the ever-present wind and rain. Dragon loves to feel your closeness, so he doesn't mind that much and it lets you do what you want. But keep your eyes open, Dragon. Something is about to hit...
🌧During one of his many moments of reflection, the presence behind him decided to act. At first, the revolutionary didn't think much of it, thinking it was just another one of your simple hugs, and then...GRAB. Dragon jumped, squirming slightly. "What the hell was that for, woman?! Let go!" but you didn't. After that episode there were others, eventually he got used to it.
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Killer
💙You were both lying in your bed. Killer had his arms wrapped around your body, smaller than his. The man loved having you all to himself, allowing himself to remove his helmet and let some weakness be overlooked; your breathing calmed him and he clung to you as if he was scared to let you go.
💙Killer's chest was soft, big, welcoming...impossible to ignore. His hard training had paid off and they were all for you to taste and feel; obviously, your head was right between her boobs, while an expression of pure bliss. You began to feel your new pillow, leaving a few kisses here and there, waking your lover up. "Y/N...what are you doing..." the blonde mumbled, the voice deep and thick with sleep.
💙Even though Killer looked like a tough brute, the Massacre Soldier was a sweetheart in love. Given his lack of experience in this field, frustrating him was really easy. "W-Wait..." your lover sighed softly, blushing and adjusting himself a bit. His arms tightened around you as his nose nuzzled into your hair, smelling your scent and letting you do it..
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Kid
💢You're in for a browl if you even think about doing that. Kid doesn't like to be touched too much in general and still needs to get used to the gentle and loving touch of the person next to him. It will be hard to deal with him the first few times, but he will still try to be a little nicer to you.
💢Just try not to do it in public, if you really want to do it, in private; and pay attention to the nipple, don't pull it too much and don't make strange movements. He has piercings there, and while they bring pleasure, they can also hurt a lot. If you try to do something like this in public, his anger will explode and he will scream at you: he has a reputation to protect, you can't just do as you please.
💢The first time you squeeze his pecs, Kid has to stop himself from blushing more than he should. "Don't do anything strange, woman" he will repeat, while your hands danced on his boobs, playing with the piercings and trying to be as gentle as possible.
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Benn Beckman
🚬Serious, stoic and weak to women. Benn never refuses your hands on his body, he really doesn't mind that, at all. He always relaxes when you pet him, tracing his muscles and loving it, he keeps fit for you too after all; and if there's one thing that's true, it's that the vice captain is proud of his body.
🚬If Benn lets you do it, it means he is truly in love with you. So, since taking him by surprise is impossible, first he will let you hold his chest as you like, then he will take revenge by doing it to you. "What's the problem, dear? You like my chest? I like yours too..." he will whisper in your ear, grabbing you just like you did with him earlier.
🚬If first your fingers stopped in the middle of his nipple, squeezing or teasing it slightly, Beckman will give you the exact same treatment, holding you in his arms and whispering sweet nothings to you. What a gentleman he is!
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Crocodile
🐊Expect to be judged, very judged. Crocodile is a classy man, he doesn't get lost in too many romances or anything like that, and above all he hates being touched suddenly. He much prefers a slow, sensual touch rather than a sudden squeeze.
🐊"What the hell are you doing?!" he will scolds you, turning around immediately and blocking your wrists in his much bigger hands; he squeezes so tightly, you can feel his rings on your skin. When the man sees your slightly scared big eyes at something like this, he will let you go, turning away.
🐊But he'll make it up to you, don't worry. He will take you out for dinner, buy you anything you want and, even if reluctantly, make you hold and feel his chest. You'll have the big Crocodile on his knees.
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demonicbaby666 · 1 year
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Nap Time
one shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: BAU family x Reader
Genre: drabble/office fun
Words: 651
A/N- I legit hate the title for this but my brain is not working and I cannot think of anything else. Anyways enjoy!
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It was already 7pm and you still had work to do, knowing exhaustion was already subduing your body you decided the best course of action would be to take a nap in your secret napping area. You were certain no one knew you’d often creep under your desk during long workdays and sneak in a little rest bite. You did a quick scan of the room to check if anyone could see you before ducking under your desk and draping a shawl over you. 
Setting a timer for 30 minutes, you let sleep steadily wash over your body, curled up nice and secure in your napping nook. When your eyes fluttered open, it was not by your alarm going off, the absence of the sound was reassuring as you had yet to feel fully rejuvenated. Though your head perked up when there was a flash right before your eyes and you squinted at the assaulting bright light. 
Laughing in front on you was Morgan holding up his phone, your chair was pushed to the side and realisation dawned on you that you had been discovered. The moment Morgan saw you becoming alert, he went into action mode and tried to run off. You grabbed his ankle trying to hoist yourself up and simultaneously stop him from running off with the embarrassing evidence he had just obtained. Hitting your head on the desk you still manged to trip Morgan, but he was quick on his feet to recover and threw his phone to Rossi unexpectedly.
When he looked at the phone and back to your disgruntled state a burst of laughter erupted from his lips. “Now that’s a keeper. Look you can see the pool of dribble!” He teased.
“Rossi delete that!” You called out, finally emerging fully from the once peaceful sanctuary of your desk. You power walked over to the older man trying to reach for the pesky device in his hand, but he didn’t give you the opportunity to grab the phone as he threw it to Emily. Who in turn bit her bottom lip trying not to laugh, her attempt was very unsuccessful. 
With the phone seeming to continuously be out of reach you felt like you were prey in a den of lions, they had you playing a game of cat and mouse. You darted from agent to agent, losing more and more of your dignity as they all beheld the image of you sleeping peacefully. 
“Reid come on!” you shouted as the phone was once again thrown, this time to JJ. Out of everyone in the team you believed JJ was the most sensible and considerate. So, what came next was a complete shock.
“I’m sorry.” She said with a tight-lipped smile looking sympathetically at you. Everyone’s phone in the office dinged and you threw her head back in frustration. Guess there was no more desk naps for you.
“I hate you guys.” you huffed, pulling out your own phone to look at the monstrous photo you’d yet to have the privilege of seeing. 
Beyond pissed off you made your way to JJ and whispered in her ear, “I’m going to get you back for this later. Sleep with one eye open you beautiful monster.” A chill ran down the blonde’s spine and when she turned to look at you wide eyed you couldn’t help but cackle at the fear plastered on her face.
Yanking the phone from her hand, you walked over and shoved it into Morgan’s chest, “You’re going to pay for this baldy. Big time.” 
Morgan burst out laughing and pulled you in, draping his arm around your shoulder, he ruffled your hair, “Whatever you say tiny.” 
When you sat back at your desk Hotch appeared above you sporting his signature smirk, “Good nap?”
Your reply came in the form of a groan as you defeatedly smacked your head against the desk. 
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arc-misadventures · 2 months
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The Biker Chick
Blake: Hey guys, what do you think~?
Yang: What is it, Blake?
Jaune: Need something?
Blake: Ta~da~!
Yang: Whoa…
Jaune: Oh my god…
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Blake: Do you like it~?
Yang: Hell yeah I do!
Jaune: It’s beautiful! Where did you get that bike?
Blake: Thank you…? Wait, the bike?
Yang: Yeah, it has a really slick design!
Jaune: Like a viper!
Yang: (Gasp!) It should have some gold stripes on it!
Jaune: To mach her eyes! Oh gods that would be so cool!
Yang: Where did you get it? I need a new bike after what happened to, Bumblebee.
Jaune: Do you think I should get one?
Yang: Oh totally! You would look so badass on a bike!
Jaune: Not as badass as you, hot stuff!
Yang: Right back you handsome!
Jaune: the three of us could start a biker gang!
Yang: That sounds amazing!
Jaune: What do you think, Blake?
Blake: Seriously?!
Jaune: What, I think it’s a cool idea.
Yang: It’s a pretty badass idea, Blakey.
Blake: You two are talking about bikes, and you’re not even noticing the most obvious thing about my outfit.
Yang: And, that is…,
Jaune: Her helmet has cat ears.
Yang: Oh, that’s cute!
Blake: My tits are on full display you idiots!
Jaune: Your what are what?
Yang: Oh, titties!
Blake: Grrrrr! Stupid sexy blondes…why is this my type?!
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wannaeatramyeon · 29 days
Text
Goo Kim x Reader: Cat
G/N. Silly. Fluffy.
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"You lil shit!" Goo yelps, sharply retreating.
It's a millisecond too late. His reflexes are beat. Fresh scratch marks litter his hand.
Eyes narrowing behind his glasses, he snarls "I'll kill y-"
And is cut off by another swipe, missing his face by a whisker.
"Yeah sorry he does that, he's a menace." You're half apologetic, half grinning that your other menace, the newly acquired blonde delinquent, has finally met his match.
It's an adversary Goo never expected: your fluffy little feline companion.
Goo's not heartless, okay? He's not completely resistant to cute charms (yours, for example). One second the cat had rolled over, exposing its impossibly soft and fluffy belly and who was Goo to turn down such an adorable invitation?
It turns out that the belly was as soft and fluffy as it looked.
For a brief moment, Goo and your cat were mutually (or so he had thought) enjoying the experience... The next-
Well.
Shit. This hurts.
He's had way worse directed at him, yet he didn't expect those little tiny claws to sting so goddamn much. Goo knows you shouldn't harm animals. Still, he couldn't help asking-
Nursing the scratches on his beautiful skin, "I can't kick it right?"
Judging from the glare you gave him, it's very much a no.
.
.
The cat is out to get him.
If cats were capable of plotting and scheming, which this one is, it absolutely is trying to get rid of the other being now taking up your time.
(No, Goo is not batshit and paranoid, thank you.)
Goo eyes the cat with distrust, currently purring in your lap.
"Sweetheart, I wanna put my head there!" he whines, and is given nothing but a chuckle in response as if he's joking.
To add insult to injury, he swears that stupid cat smirked at him too.
.
.
"No, not yet," You push Goo off you, the playful kisses now having taken a distinctly non-playful, and very much hot and heavy turn.
Readjusting his glasses, "Huh, why?"
"My cat’s there," You nod somewhere over his bare shoulder, and his head turns to follow your eye line.
That stupid cat is right fucking there.
"Shoo him out, sweetheart," Goo murmurs, lips grazing against your neck once more.
"I feel bad."
Goo stops. Looks at you with an arched eyebrow. Barely manages to repress a disgruntled sigh.
You know you sound crazy, and you know your cat won't hold it against you. Nevertheless, with a grimace, you tell him, "It's his bedroom too!"
.
.
Turns out it is the cat's bedroom, and also the cat's apartment.
Which it showed by arching his back and hissing everytime Goo appeared in his periphery.
Perhaps only when Goo was with you, did the cat tolerate his presence. Then you got called away for a couple weeks and Goo, like a lovesick idiot, offered to stay and look after your pet for you.
Now with him just on his own, he is proving to be very much an unwanted guest in claimed territory.
Luckily, the hostility and hissing from both sides calmed down after the first few days, eventually turning into an uneasy truce.
Only after feeding the cat, and offering treats (not that Goo wanted to, it was only under your instructions) during the first week did it seem to accept the blonde's presence. As if it somehow knows that this idiot is its final defence before starvation.
So the cat tolerates Goo, even if it is still a bit frosty and begrudging.
.
.
The most unexpected and surprising point though, arrives towards the end of your absence.
Soft meows stirs Goo from his slumber.
He wakes in time to see the cat pounce onto the bed, kneading his paws into your pillow.
"You miss Y/N?" He asks, and receives another meow.
It sounds distinctly like a yes. All frostiness, in the quiet darkness, has melted away.
"Me too," he murmurs.
Maybe it's because Goo is almost asleep again and his defences are down, or maybe they both just miss you. But when he reaches out to stroke the cat's head, he receives, for the first time, a purr. 
A low rumbling, contentment. Gentle pressure, nudging against his palm.
Finally- 
A shared understanding as they both eagerly await your return.
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