#f!reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ghouljams · 1 day

Note

Ghoul imagine Cowboy!Ghost going to the thrift/antique store in town because all his work pants are testing the limits of the Theseus’ Ship paradox with how much mending Duck has had to do on them.

There’s literally only one pair of jeans in the entire store that fit him (his legs are a mile long, thick as fucking tree trunks, with a bakery to match, that’s a tall order for a rural town) and so he buys them without a second thought. Doesn’t really pay mind to the way the owners great grand daughters eyes widen comically when she sees the brand patch on the back. He’s not very familiar with American brands anyway, and these’ll get demolished by the end of the week, why should he care who made it.

Of course it all comes together the next time him and Goose have sex. Her brain practically short circuits as he unzips his jeans, revealing a faded red patch that reads “☘️LUCKY YOU☘️” in a bold font.

Yes this mountain of a man bought Lucky brand jeans from the thrift, no he didn’t really realize what they were (not like he has to look at his zip every time mkay it’s fucking muscle memory), yes they fit him like skinny jeans, and yes Goose fucks his absolute brains out that night.

Maelstrom the wizard you are to make the worms squirm the way you do...

Your mom's a miracle worker for sure, but she's not God, and when Simon sets his ratty jeans on her kitchen table she just stares at him. You let your lovely, change averse, husband know that you will attempt to order him a new pair of the exact same brand but he needs something else in the meantime. Begrudgingly he agrees, and tugs on a pair of fatigues to go find a new pair of work pants in town. A tall feat when your few clothing stores mostly cater to women, and it's only very recently that your town has seen such an influx of... men his size.

You drop him at the church's little resale shop and tell him to find something denim that fits. You don't think about it more than that as you walk into the feed store. You don't even think about it when Simon climbs into the truck cab with a pair of jeans.

You do think about it the next day when he pulls his new jeans on. They're tight, and your eyes track the way he has to hop a little to get them up his thighs. You honestly could drop to your knees just watching him adjust himself in the denim. There's never a time you forget that Simon is a big man, but there are certainly moments you're reminded of it. You're drooling a little just eyeing the bulge of his cock against the fly of his jeans. He may as well be vacuum sealed into those suckers. You're not complaining, but...

You have to remind yourself that these were probably the only jeans he could find in his size. It's the only way you're able to keep your mind off your husbands tree trunk thighs while you're corralling cows.

You're eating lunch when Simon crouches down to pat the dog and you very nearly spit out your coke at the way the denim stretches over his ass. Soap stops his walk to the chicken coop and you have to throw your can at him to stop him from wolf whistling at your husband. Jesus Christ, ok, new problem has just arisen. You survey the jeans as Simon stands, the hug of denim around his thick thighs, the curve of fabric over his ass that cups it something sinful. You narrow your eyes at the offending garment. There's no way those fit comfortably, but Simon isn't complaining so you can't say for sure. He shifts his wait, settles a hand on his hip to watch the dog run in circles, and you have to physically hold yourself back from smacking his ass.

"My love," You try, earning a hum from Simon. You both know you only call him that when you're really trying not to call him something else. "Do those fit you?"

"Fit enough," Simon grumbles, bending to grab the tennis ball Mav brings him. You wince at the way the seams seem to be holding on for dear life. You try to remember if you knew Simon was toting around a whole bakery back there as he straightens and throws the dog's ball.

"Are they-" you hesitate, eyes stuck on him, "-comfortable?"

"They're fine," He bends again for the ball, and you keep yourself sinfully silent against the heat rising on your cheek, "shopped at enough charity shops." He throws the ball, and you- you sort of hope the jeans you ordered get lost in the mail.

You barely make it to dinner before he splits a seam. There's a little pop and you look over your shoulder to see Simon poking at a new little hole on the inside of his knee. You feel a little like you're seeing a victorian lady's ankle the way your heart pounds at that little inch of skin. Simon grimaces and pinches at the seam with a sigh. You flick the burner off and wipe your hands on a nearby towel.

"Lemme get a look, see if I can patch it." You offer, you're not as good as your mom or Soap, but you're a decent stitch. Simon stops his fussing and straightens his leg so you can crouch down and inspect the damage. Not too bad, you can fix it. You sigh, so much for hoping the ordered pants go missing, you'll be lucky if these things make it through the week. You glance up at Simon, catch his apologetic smile and shake your head. "Let's get 'em off and I'll throw a stitch on 'em while the pasta boils."

You don't bother standing, waiting for Simon on your knees is habit enough you don't even think about it. You watch him unhook his belt(as if the denim painted on him is going anywhere) and tug his zipper down. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head at the red "Lucky you" that greats you. It's entirely possible your brain might have fully leaked out of your ears after a full day of your man walking around with practically nothing on. You don't think this denim even counts as pants at this point. Not when you can trace the outline of his cock, and see it twitch as you lean forward to press your lips to the embroidered zipper.

Simon's hand finds your head immediately, his fingers scratching down to your scalp to hold on. "All that starin' finally got to ya, huh?" He rumbles, his voice lowered to that lovely register he only finds when he wants to fuck you. Your eyes dart up to meet his, your tongue darting out to lick at his boxers. His other hand pushes his jeans down, the fabric bunching around his muscular thighs and holding tight. You don't think about what a pain these things are going to be to get off, you just wiggle your head closer, drag your lips over the soft cotton and inhale the smell of a hard day's work.

Shit it must be nice just having his cock not clamped against his hip. You don't usually get that relieved sigh unless you've been teasing him. You drag your tongue over the soft warm length of him, wetting the cotton of his boxers with your spit until you can feel his cock harden under your ministrations. Your hands slip up Simon's thighs to tug at the denim, it barely moves and somehow that turns you on more than the hand fishing his thick cock from his boxers.

"Bad as Johnny with all your pantin'," He hums, "think I can't see you starin' sweet'eart?" You tip your head back, your mouth open and your tongue out, just so he can smack his cock against it.

Of course he'd catch you, but you weren't exactly stealthy about it. You're allowed to check out the man you love, that's not a crime. Especially if he looks as good as he does. If it were you, you wouldn't have even made it out of the house this morning. You take too long thinking, too long waiting and sinking into that lovely soft space Simon pulls you into, because you gag on his cock as it pushes down your throat in one quick stroke. He pulls it out, spit stringing between your tongue and his length and rubs the head over your lips.

"Gonna put it away if you can't pay attention." Simon scolds, and you can't have that. Your tongue laps at his head, lips stretched wide as he feeds you his heavy cock. You swallow around him this time, blinking the tears from your eyes when he hits the back of your throat. It's uncomfortable, but a quick jerk of his hips forces him down past your gag reflex, where you can feel him bulging out your throat. He holds you there, letting your throat work to try and push him out, before he pulls you off.

You gulp down a breath and slide your hands around his hips to grab that lovely ass you'd been oogling all day. Simon chuckles, watching you open your mouth wide, slurping at his cock with each bob of your head. He holds still, lets you pull off to lick long stripes up his length, watching the way his cock rests against your lips, against your nose when you make your way back to lick at the base. Seeing how big he is compared to you, knowing you'll let him fuck your throat despite the way it makes you hoarse in the morning... what a perfect partner you are.

(If Ghost's honest with himself there's something intoxicating about having the woman he loves be so openly attracted to him that she'd spend all day staring. It's the same heady rush that hits him when you look up at him with his cock down your throat, the same rush that he gets seeing your nose run and your eyes water as you fight down the urge to gag. He's never met someone that makes him feel so completely wanted the way you do.)

Your tongue swirls around the head of his cock, laps at the the vein running along the bottom, you hold it out of your mouth to lick along his heavy length with each bob of your head. You pull back only to spit on his cock, the foamy drool that drips off of it is quickly pulled back into your lips as they slide over him. Your nose buries itself in the wiry blond curls at the base of his cock, and you shake your head to get his deeper. You suck on the way up, cheeks hollowed to slurp at the soft skin in a way that makes Simon groan.

It's absolutely filthy the way you blow him. You're such a mess, slobbering on his cock like it's the best thing you've ever had in your mouth, drooling and slurping. Your pretty lips puffy and your eyes shining. It's cute, you look like you're on the verge of tears just taking him down to the base. Simon taps your cheek with his fingers and you hold still, let him fuck your mouth the way he wants. His hips thrust shallowly into your mouth, easing you into the feeling before they snap and your gag is stopped by the thick cock stretching out your throat. You know what he wants. Know that by the time he's done the breaths you suck in so greedily with each pull out won't be enough to keep your nose from running, or the tears from spilling over your lashes.

You know that by the time he pulls you to the base and holds you there, his come spilling down your throat as he spits a low swear of your name, you'll look a wreck. And you know that he'll tap your nose when he pulls out, and crouch down to tell you what a good job you did. Except when he does drop to your level you're met with a smirk, and a:

"Lucky you, eh princess?"

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #x oc #cod x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #f!reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #cowboy!ghost #oc: goose

204 notes · View notes

majinbangus · 2 days

Text

"Got crumbs on your face."

"Huh?" Cheeks puffed up and round much like a chipmunks, you do a small doubletake, a little too distracted with stuffing your face full of ube pandesal, consequently not even bothering with manners and struggle to speak through your full mouth. "Wah?"

"Fuckin'... Swallow your food before you choke, Tweety."

Holding up a finger to indicate a moment to do just that, you force the half chewed chunks of bread to go down your throat. It's actually impressive you didn't choke like last time you attempted swallowing chunks of barely bitten food.

You turn to him again, looking at the man next to you, but sideeye the half-eaten food on his plate. Usually he's finished by now. Hm. Maybe he'll let you have some.

You clear your throat. "What?"

"Crumbs." He taps his cheek to mirror where it's on yours. "Right 'ere."

Oh. Is that all?

Your tongue darts out to lick it off the way you usually take care of stray food particles on your face. Stretching your tongue as much as you can, you think you get it, tasting a ghost of the ube. Giving yourself a few more licks in that same area, you hold in a hum at the lingering taste and bring your tongue back in your mouth. Yummy.

His fist clenches, but you don't take note of the way his pupils dilate or the clink of his teeth gnashing together, nor do you notice how he sits up so straight he could only be described as rigid, and neither do you see his eyes following the tease of your tongue. You should have. Alas, you're a bit of an oblivious fool.

You raise your eyebrows expectantly at him. "That all of it?"

He heaves, and you're not sure why he sounds so exasperated.

"Bloody hell, Tweety..."

"What? Did I not get it?"

"No, fuck, lemme just- "

He trails off, taking the liberty to pinch your chin between his index finger and thumb, tilting your head to the side so he has a better angle. You don't flinch away, though, letting him puppet you this way and that.

It happens at a normal speed, yet somehow time feels slow. Or maybe that's just your reaction time. Perhaps both.

Instead of picking up a napkin like you expect, he closes in on you as if you're the prey that just gave him an opening to strike. In fact, you almost expect to feel a bite encapsulate your throat, for teeth to sink into tender skin, so you close your eyes in preparation for- something.

Really, you should have seen it coming.

Your eyes shoot open at the wet glide of his tongue laving over your cheek. It's not a small kitten lick either, it's a messy one, similar to a dog with no sense of boundaries. You try to pull away for a brief moment- more out of shock and less out of disgust- but he doesn't let you go, pinching your chin harder and jerking you closer. You're barely able to stifle the whine that claws up your throat but concede to letting him leave a trail of slobber over your cheek and dangerously close to the corner of your mouth.

You're tempted to lick back with each swipe to the edge of your lips, but you hold yourself back. Unlike him, you have some decency. Well. You like to think so, even if you're nearly panting like a dog in heat in the middle of the mess hall. At least no one is here. You think. Hope. You really, really hope no one's here to call out the public indecency you're both displaying.

Shakily, you reach up to tap his wrist, the one that's attached to the hand that's going to bruise your chin if he doesn't let go. Not that you'd mind. But still. You try to pull away.

"Uh, I think you got it-"

You're cut off with a yelp and a jerk, whole body nearly toppling over his from how hard he yanks you back. He glares at you when you steady yourself, hand on his knee and eyes blown wide from the intense look he gives you.

Chest rumbling, he growls- an honest to God, literal growl that shouldn't make your stomach flutter like it does- and shakes your head a little as if to admonish you.

"Wasn't done tasting yet."

"But you-"

"C'mon."

He stands from the table and forcefully manhandles you up with him, leaving your trays on the table as he pulls you along by the wrist, long strides almost bordering as a jog. Fuck, it's like he's impatient or something.

"Wait-" you look back at the unfinished food, free hand half-heartedly groping back at it as you stumble along. "What about our food? We haven't- I'm still- who's gonna clean it?"

Shooting you an irritated look over his shoulder as if to say shut up, he tightens his grip and yanks you along in the direction of his room.

"Not my problem. There's something else I'd rather eat instead."

•••

Wanted it to be Soap, but was picturing Ghost, could be any of the 141, though. I like to think Tweety's shared by all of them. Not quite in a barrack's bunny kinda way, but yeah, also in that way, although I picture Tweety to be oblivious and encounters like this frequently sometimes borders on dubcon.

#john soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #captain john price x reader #soap x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soapy thoughts :]#simon riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john price x reader #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #price x reader #f!reader #mature themes #afab reader

370 notes · View notes

mewogrl · 2 days

Text

ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱ? ᴍᴇ? ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ! (ᴜɴᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇᴅ)༉‧₊˚.

bestfriend!megumi x f!reader

jealousy is a very heavy feeling. why was megumi feeling it? you guys weren't together anyways. why should he care who you hang out with? it's only a strange feeling, it will go away in no time! except when it doesn't.

jealous? me? never! playlist!

content: bestfriend!au, childhood friends, friends to lovers, jealousy, angst, fluff, miscommunication, smau in further chapters, implied smut, i've liked you since i met you trope, distancing, i'll always find my way back to you trope

new friend

heavy chest

15 years

why him?

please answer

don't let this happen

now that your gone

fly back

why now?

cope

your my addiction

hear me out

please comment on this post or any of the chapters to be added to the taglist for updates˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

65 notes · View notes

streamafterlaughter · 1 day

Text

Safe

masterlist | nav

summary: a night out with your friends turns sour, but you’re rescued by an unexpected hero

A/N: i wrote a chapter based on this post for my main fic, but feel a desperate need to write it again putting more detail into it bc i love a fictional man covered in blood idk what to tell you!!! let me know if you want a part II, im feeling a miniverse comin’ on (dw, chapter 23 of FD is in the works, i promise!) reblogs and comments always appreciated!

tags/tw: friends to lovers, mentions of sexual harassment, blood, violence (eddie gets in a fight), swearing, slut shaming, confessions, drunkish!eddie. (lmk if i missed something!) fluff, angst, slight hurt/comfort. reader and eddie are about 22-23, out of high school, happy etc etc. best friend!robin and best friend!steve feature, of course.

—

Your friendship had been simple, at first. You and Eddie had met as kids, before boys had cooties and girls were lame. Eddie had been cornered on the playground, by some giants in the grade above you. They'd shoved him against the chain link fence, their greasy leader demanding he hand over his lunch money. When Eddie blubbered that he didn’t have any, that he hadn’t eaten lunch in weeks, the goons cackled at him, shoving him to the ground while calling him things like “trailer trash.” You couldn’t stand it, even at eleven years old. The poor kid, with hair buzzed closely to his scalp, dressed in all black, carrying around a battered notebook with doodles of dragons on its cover. Your face had warmed with anger, hands balled into fists ready to swing on the group that would outnumber you five to two, or five to one if you were being realistic. This kid clearly wasn’t a fighter.

“Hey!” You had shouted, stomping your worn out converse against the mulch of the playground. “What the hell are you doing, Jared?” You hadn’t been afraid to get in the kid’s face, brows furrowed together as you jabbed your tiny finger into his puffed out chest. “What’s he ever done to you, huh? I don’t think it’s his fault your mother left.” You know now, it wasn’t the nicest thing to say, but it had worked. Jared’s goons had gone silent, anticipating his retort, but all he’d done was cry. What a bitch.

When he’d run, tail tucked between his legs, you’d turned to the cowering boy behind you, offering your hand. “You okay?”

He’d nodded, clearly still shaken up but trying to be brave. “I can take care of myself.” Of course, it had been embarrassing. Not because you were a girl, or younger than him, but you were braver. You didn’t give a shit what people thought of you. Even then, he could tell. You were fucking cool.

”Yeah, sure looked like it. Whatever. I’m Y/n.” You held out your hand to him again, this time to shake, like you were a seasoned lawyer, or something.

“Eddie.” He’d taken your hand, given it a brief shake, but you could tell he was nervous by the way your palm stuck to his.

”Hi, Eddie. You wanna walk to Benny’s with me? Get some burgers?”

He’d shaken his head. “I don’t have money.”

You’d only shrugged. “I got it.” You didn’t think mentioning that Benny was your uncle, or that you and your friends could always eat free, was worth mentioning. From that day on, you and Eddie had been inseparable.

—

The Hideout is loud. You’re wrapped around your best friend’s arm as he leads you through the bar. It’s the only time you’ve seen this place busy, let alone filled with people that don’t qualify for a discount at Denny’s.

The crowd must be the fault of the band. They're full of life on the tiny stage in the back of the bar, somehow convincing patrons to take to the sticky wooden floor to dance.

“You wanna drink, sweets?” You hear him even over the loud music, like a siren call meant only for you.

“Yes, please!” You look up at Eddie, who’s already staring at you. His rich brown eyes sparkle in the dancing stage lights, and you find your tongue in knots at the sight of him.

He nods, sliding his jacket from your shoulders before seating you at a table. “I’ll be right back!” He promises before skipping off to the bar. You keep your eyes trained on him, hypnotized by the way he glided towards the bar, weaving between the mass of gyrating bodies.

You can’t exactly pinpoint when your feelings for him started changing. You assume it had to have been high school. He started growing his hair out, dressing in leather and denim, and listening to a lot of heavy metal. Something about it was attractive to you, watching your best friend become the man he is now, at twenty three years old.

Even with an exterior most find scary, Eddie is still the kindest soul you know. That’s what really pulled you in. He’s always treated you with kindness and care, never once letting you leave his house angry, and knowing just what to say to calm you down. He always makes sure you’re home safe after a night drinking, sometimes even willing to forfeit his own fun to drive you to your place, or crash at his trailer.

Of course, these feelings have stayed stuffed deep, deep down. You can’t bring yourself to ruin what you have with him, risking your closest friendship to maybe be told what you want to hear.

“Hey! You still in there?” Eddie waves his decorated hand a few inches from your face, and you’re dragged back to earth. He places your drink on the table in front of you.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” He rests his chin on his knuckles, full attention on you, and you feel your face warm.

“Just happy to be out with you is all.” Not a lie, but not exactly the truth. Safe.

“Alright.” He’s never been one to pry. “You wanna dance?” The song has changed to something slower, and you try not to read into his timing as you nod your head cautiously, taking Eddie’s hand as he leads you to the floor.

Eddie places his hands on either of your hips, and you can’t help but stiffen. ��This alright?” He must have felt it too.

“Yes, yeah,” You stumble to reassure him, nervous you’ll scare him off. He’s always been such a gentleman, so careful with you.

You drape your arms around his neck loosely, casually. Safely. Still just two friends, swaying to some angst ridden tune you can’t understand the words to.

—

It’s later when Steve and Robin arrive, already drunk from spending the night at a concert in the city. You’re still not down for the count, and Eddie’s nursing his sixth drink of the night as the music has switched from guitar driven to computer beats coming from a turntable.

“Since when does The Hideout hire DJs?” Robin shouts over the bass driven music, eyes squinting in the bright lights.

“Ever since the place sold to some big wig in Indy, they’ve been doing this shit on weekends!” Eddie informs her as Steve starts talking about how “this is actually a great business tactic.” You decide now is a good time to slip back to the bar for a refill.

Unfortunately, you are one of about fifty people to have that idea, and you groan as you fight to find an open space along the counter. You mumble “excuse me” after “sorry” after “move, please!” until you’ve almost reached the front. As you’re about to order, you feel a hand squeeze your ass.

You whip your head around, and come face to face with a large, muscular man in a tight t-shirt and even tighter jeans.

“Hey, baby,” He winks, the disgusting smirk on his face sending a chill through your body. “You here all by yourself, gorgeous?” Your throat tightens. This is what it’s like, you know that. You shouldn’t be by yourself, that was your mistake. Your throat tightens, impossibly dry, before looking back up at this man. He is seemingly a foot and a half taller than you, likely able to break you in half using only his bicep, and he’s is standing way too close. You can even smell the whiskey on his tongue. “Uh, well,”

“Cmon, let’s go dance, huh?” He interrupts, snatching your wrist with an iron grip, and you squeeze your eyes shut as he leads you towards the dance floor, already formulating an escape route. You’ll say you need to use the bathroom, then you’ll find your friends and leave. Easy enough, right? Unfortunately as you reach the dance floor, the song slows again and you find yourself flush against this beast of a man, his big arms caging you into his chest. You feel the tears start to well in your eyes, blurring your already obscured vision. Your heart drops into your stomach when you realize you are completely, fully, and hopelessly trapped.

—

“Sooo,” Robin turns to Eddie, who’s been staring across into space, daydreaming about you for the last five minutes. “Where’s your girl?”

“What?” He’d heard her, but he wants to hear it again. And again and again.

“Your baby, dingus! You’re one true-“

“Would you shut up?” He interrupts her slurring of teasing, aching jabs, feeling his face heat up with every syllable. “She’s not my- y’know, she’s not mine.”

“Oh, please!” Steve snorts, causing Eddie to whip his head to look at him. “We all know she’s yours, and you’re hers, and all that romantic bullshit, okay? No use trying to squirm out of it. Be grateful you got that much. We all know she loves you.”

He rolls his eyes, but his heart is skipping with each word. He wants to believe them, desperately. He can’t bring himself to have those hopes, though, not about you. He’d only disappoint you, or scare you off when he got too close. It’s better, keeping you at a distance. Safer.

“Is that… No,” Robin looks beyond Eddie, and he turns to follow her gaze. He finds you easily, the only figure he’d recognize in such a loud, multicolored environment. You’re squished against a boulder of a man as you sway to the music, but he can’t see your face. Eddie feels his heart catch in his throat as he turns back to his friends.

“See? I told you she’s not mine.” He clears his throat when he hears his own voice crack. Not fucking now.

“Who is that guy?” Steve asks, craning his neck to get a better view.

“Probably just some club sleaze, she’s probably not even having fun.” Robin shrugs. Her comment clicks in Eddie’s brain before it clicks in her own, though.

“I gotta go.” He shoves himself from the table.

“Should I go with him?”

Robin shrugs. “That dude is gigantic. Maybe watch his back.”

—

“Hey, um,” The song has ended, and you need to get the fuck out of here. “I’ll be right back, I gotta use the ladies’ room,” You peel yourself away from him, but he grabs your arm before you can.

“Nuh uh, you can use the bathroom at my place. C’mon.” There will be no talking yourself out of this. Usually you can confuse a man into leaving you alone, but this guy’s different. You can sense the danger, the complete lack of empathy, like it’s a scent he’s giving off. You have to make a scene.

You twist your arm, writhing to get out of his grip, when you feel the cooling rings of a familiar hand on your shoulder. “Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie’s voice is low, so this man/monster can’t hear him. “I’m gonna get you out of here. Hang on.” He moves in front of you, between you and the giant causing him to drop your arm. There’s an angry red ring of his lasting grip around your wrist. “You gotta problem, buddy?” The guy puffs his chest out at Eddie, like some weird, animalistic instinct to seem bigger. Like he needs that advantage.

“Yeah, I do. Why were your hands on my girl?”

You try not to think about the words too much. Despite the situation though, you feel your heart skip. Steve joins him beside you, placing his hand on your other shoulder protectively.

“Your girl, huh? Well your girl’s a fuckin’ slut then, she’s been dancing with me for the last ten minutes.”

“What the fuck did you just call her, you prick?”

“You heard me bitch boy, she’s a slut! And I like my girls dirty.” Before Eddie can respond, the guy swings his arm into Eddie’s unsuspecting face as you watch, frozen and helpless. Your hands fly to your mouth to muffle the shriek, but you catch the attention of some nearby patrons.

Eddie doesn’t go down, though. The adrenaline keeps him on his feet. “Oh, we’re doin’ this now?” Eddie smirks as he wipes the blood from his split lip. “Cmon, I know you got more in ya than that. You’re massive!” Eddie taunts him before launching at the guy, managing to double him over with a punch to the gut. “You’ll have to do more than that if you want her, big guy. I’ll lay down my fuckin’ life in this bar for that woman.”

The crowd has now turned their attention to where Eddie’s got the brute in a headlock. He gets one more punch in before his opponent breaks out of his grasp, sending his elbow straight into Eddie’s nose. “Oh, ho, ho,” Eddie cackles maniacally as he lifts away from the counter, blood now dripping from his nostrils into his mouth, staining his skin and his shirt. “Look at you, tough guy.” He spits a mouthful of blood onto the bar floor. “Real big of you beatin’ on someone a quarter your size.”

Before anyone else can make a move, the bouncers are rushing up behind them, escorting both men out the front entrance while you follow behind with Steve and Robin. It takes six guys to move the giant, leaving Eddie to comply with the disgruntled manager. You watch as your adversary curses at Eddie before walking into the night, disappearing before anyone could think to call the cops.

“Oh my god, what the fuck?!” Robin is laughing nervously as she looks between you and Eddie, then to Steve with that annoying, know-it-all glint in her eyes.

“Eddie, he could have fuckin’ killed you!” Steve, ever the babysitter, scolds his friend with an elbow to his ribs, causing Eddie to wince in pain.

“Yeah, maybe, but if it meant keeping her safe-,” He cuts himself off as he meets your teary eyes. “Oh, no. Sweets, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head, barely able to look at the bloody boy in front of you. He’s hurt because of you. You were supposed to keep him safe.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie.” You whisper, afraid your voice will betray you for speaking at full volume. “You shouldn’t have done that, I shouldn’t have let you.” The tears are warm on your cheeks when they spill, and as quickly as they do, you have six arms wrapped around you.

—

“Get some rest, we’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You shut the cab door behind you before following Eddie into his trailer. You don’t want to be alone tonight, and Eddie has graciously offered a sleepover at his place.

“How’s your face?” You ask, already on your way to the freezer for an ice pack.

“I’m fine, honey, I promise.” His voice says otherwise, low and scratchy from a night of straining it. “How are you doing, though?”

It’s a loaded question. How are you supposed to feel, watching your best friend risk his life for you? You’re grateful, sure, but the guilt eats at you still. “I’m just so, so sorry Eddie,” You carefully lift your hand to caress his swollen cheek. “You really didn't have to do that.”

“What was I supposed to do? Let him hurt you? I couldn’t live with myself.” He shakes his head, wincing in pain. “I meant what I said. I’d risk my life to keep you safe.”

You shake your head, not accepting his answer. “Why?” It’s meek, barely a whisper as you blot the remaining blood from his lip.

“What do you mean why?” His words are muffled by the tissue.

You huff, getting upset despite yourself. “You’re telling me you’d put yourself in danger if it meant keeping me out of it? What’s the point? Why do that to yourself because I’m too stupid to make the right decisions? What do you gain from that?”

He shakes his head, clearly frustrated. “Do I have to gain something from it? I do it because I love you, y/n. Simple as that.” You gape at him, and he rolls his eyes, the beginning of a smirk twitching on his face. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“It would be helpful, yes.” You’re just about begging now, the nervous sweat causing your shirt to stick to you.

“Sweets, I accepted that I would die for you a long fuckin’ time ago. If it meant keeping you happy, I would tie myself to the train tracks. Or, in this case, let some fucker twice my size beat the living shit out of me.”

You can’t accept it, logically. Your brain won’t let you believe any of his claims. “But I don’t-“

“No.” His voice is stern, almost scolding. “No more of that ‘I don’t deserve you’ shit. Okay? Absolutely not. Because you do. You saved my life all those years ago, and I promised myself I’d make sure to protect yours, too. You are my best friend, and the absolute love of my life, so I’m gonna give you everything I’ve got.” He laces his fingers with yours, and you watch as his rings catch the light.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel that way about me, I’ll never ask you for that, it wouldn’t be fair. But I can’t stand by when you’re in trouble, it’s not what I do.”

Your heart is fighting to free itself from your ribcage. It wants to jump from your skin, straight into Eddie’s open palms. Though the ever present coward in you wishes to curl up inside yourself and hide from him, everything else in your body is being pulled towards him, compelled as if by nature.

Before you even notice you’re crying again, Eddie wraps himself around your shaking frame, rubbing soothing patterns on your back as you sob, open mouthed and ugly, into his t-shirt. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m right here.” He coos, and you focus on his breathing, matching the pace to calm the stutter of your cries.

You claw at his jacket, inhaling his scent of cigarettes and pine soap. You need him closer. He tightens his grip on you, and you look up to face him. His own cheeks are wet with tears, his eyes screwed shut trying to stifle the bite of the wracking sobs you know the strength of well. This is the only chance you’re getting, so you move with calculation. Despite the anxious pounding of your heart, and everything in your head telling you that he’s not yours and never could be, you crane your neck to reach Eddie’s split and swollen lips, squeezing your eyes shut as you place your mouth on his, ever so gently.

Before Eddie can react, you’re gone, face inches away from him as his eyes flutter open. “Whoa. Uh, w-what… what are you doing?” He sputters, face now bright red, and you feel your own cheeks blush.

“I’m- I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed… ” You cover your mouth with your hand to hide the shame, feeling the fire in your stomach. You have just ruined years of friendship, and for one stupid kiss! But Eddie’s beaming, and he’s still gripping you close to him. “I've just wanted to do that for so long.” You admit shyly, shifting against his grip, ready to retreat, but he holds you tighter.

“Can you do it again?” His voice is more confident now. You’re not sure you’ve heard him correctly, but when you look at him, it’s undeniable.

You mirror his smile, nodding before leaning into him again. He makes the connection, taking the lead as your body contorts around his, lips locking together as he holds you flush against him. His lips are so soft, and he’s so gentle with you, even though you can tell he’s eager, like maybe he’s also wanted to do this for a while. The thought causes you to smile against his lips, and you feel his own lips stretch against yours as your hands move from his shoulders to his hair.

One of his hands moves from your waist to caress your face, holding your jaw like a precious pearl he’s discovered after years at sea. Your tears fall freely now, ones of overwhelming love for Eddie, ones you never could have hoped to shed, content letting them simmer in the pit of your throat if it meant keeping your best friend. You’re breathless when he lets you go, fighting the urge to chase after his lips. After almost a decade of wondering what Eddie would taste like, what kissing him would feel like, now you get to know. “I have been in love with you since that day on the playground,” He confesses, tightening his arms around your waist to keep you close. “But I’m such a chicken shit, I didn’t wanna ruin anything. You were so sweet to me, I couldn’t risk losing that, losing you.” The words seem to spill from him now, like he’s been craving to tell you. You suppose he has.

You take in the sight of your best friend, battered and bruised for the sake of your honor, like a knight thrown into battle without armor. He’s beautiful, even in black and blue. You bring your hand to his cheek, rubbing small circles on his skin as he leans into your touch. You could stay here forever, you think. “I love you too, Eds. I have for as long as I can remember.” He smiles at you, lip splitting again but he doesn’t even flinch. You return the grin, feeling your cheeks ache from how wide you’ve stretched your mouth. “Thank you for keeping me safe.” You kiss him again, letting yourself taste the blood he’d spilled for you, a silent promise that you’ll make sure he never has to again.

taglist @children-of-the-grave :p

#friends to lovers #best friends to lovers #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson #st #st4 #eddie munson fanfic #angst #fluff #stranger things #strangerthingscentral #f!reader

57 notes · View notes

cookie-crumblr · 3 days

Text

Chubby F! Housewife Reader X M!Yandere Streamer OC Jasper

Part 2!

Part 1 Here!

MINORS DNI!

CW: F!reader, reader referred to as she/her, reader has a vagina, reader in a dress and bra(so has breast, dw not described! :3) noncon implications, violence against reader (not by ML), STILL NO SMUT!? WHO AM I ?? XD luv y’all have fun!

*Smack!* *Thwack!* *Smack!*

“Don’t slip up now!” You giggle slightly out of breath already.

“Hah! Speak for yourself, be careful not to trip!” Jasper retorts.

*THWACK!* You hit another tennis ball this time with all the oomf you can muster.

His indoor tennis court is in its own area of the house, the floor and walls are a black and white spiral that add to the trippy illusion of his entire home.

You’re both opposing a machine that is spitting out balls at you at the speed of fucking light. You haven’t done anything like this since highschool maybe, but for the most part you’ve kept up perfectly!

He’s impressed. Not to mention he keeps almost missing hits because of your dress barely covering you, and your jumping and moving around exposing more and more of yourself. He can’t help but get a little distracted.

*Smack!”

He gets a little closer to the middle at the same time that you dove for the ball and miss, and you start falling. You see the strange floor coming closer and hold your arms out to try and catch yourself, until it stops suddenly and you’re hanging there in the air.

He caught you in his arm, and threw away his racket to support you with his other.

He presses a button on his keyring, stopping the onslaught of balls, as you stare up at him, a growing warmth spreads across your face.

You’re both out of breath and bust out laughing now.

“Thanks! That was fun, really got my mind off… Stuff hah!” you say and look away while getting your bar rings back.

“you’re always welcome here. can i see your phone?” He asks while fixing his shirt. You hand it over, you had it in your bra, you pull it out without much thought, and when you turn back his pale face is red. “Ahem, uh just text when you wanna come over and give me a minute, i’ll most likely be ‘round”

“Thanks so much Jasper! I really appreciate this!” excitedly, you thank him again.

“Where the fuck were you!?” Edward sprays spit as he fumes and interrogates you.

“I went for a walk…” You answer, and before you can say more he continues to barrage you.

“At this time of night!? are you fucking stupid?”

“No! I was just chilly on the deck, so i-”

“Why not just come back inside? Gods why did i marry a brainless fucking imbecile,”

“Sorry…” You try to end the argument, maybe if you just apologized you can get out of it.

“Prove it.”

Your brows knit, “Wh-what?”

“Prove. It. Are you that fucking stupid? on your knees.”

you swallow and get down, turning your head away from him, even though you know in your sickly feeling bones what’s coming.

“Look at me.”

Fuck… Don’t. regardless of you’re marriage, you hate that you’re turned on in this circumstance.

“Look. At. Me, Darling~” he fumes.

Begrudgingly, you look up, and give him your best smile, feeling like the sludge building up in your veins will spill out any second.

You love Edward… Yes.

He punched you that night, you don’t even remember why. Now you have to try and hide your black eye before the employees see. or anyone else for that matter. You didn’t sleep after that either… You were just dissociating and going in and out of waking night terrors that felt so real, as if all night he was tormenting you, while really, he simply slept next to you.

“Jasper, can I come ove—” you erase the text message almost as soon as you typed it. You probably shouldn’t even go outside in the sunlight with this shiner.

“Hey Y/N! hope you’re alright, what’s been up?” Jasper sends you a text that you don’t reply to… You don’t feel like it. Who even is he? just your neighbor that kinda flirts with you even though you’re married.

“Homewrecker!” You surprise yourself, and cover your mouth. Ops… You haven’t really spoken to anyone in at least a day.

You wait a few more days when at least the swelling is all down and the colour is almost a skin tone again, at least it isn’t purple anymore.

“Howdy Jasper! sorry i went on a mini vacation! what have you been up to?” You lie. You haven’t even left the sunroom except for the bathroom. Hopfully he just didn’t notice that you didn’t actually leave to go anywhere…

He did. He knows you’re lying too. You think he couldn’t see you through all those windows? Just because you have sheer curtains and we’re surrounded by big plants. He watched you.

He edged himself to you. Never letting himself actually cum.

He didn’t see your eye, but he knows something had to have happened, he just doesn’t know what.

Before he can reply you send another, “Actually can I just come over?” You decide to risk it. The makeup you ordered, and that came in yesterday, should cover the rest of it at this point at least.

Maybe you were a bit dramatic… All he did— No. We’re not going down any of those roads.

“Yes, I just cleaned up actually :)”

“Scared of me seeing your place a little messy?”

“Would you blame me?” You weren’t expecting that answer. You don’t know what you expected, but that answer just wasn’t on the list.

You hop over to hedges between your yards and don’t even look back as you pass through the gate. It latches behind you.

He answers the door as soon as you ring the bell, he must’ve been waiting right there! The thought makes your heart flutter.

“Hey Jasper!” You try to keep your eye out of direct sunlight until he lets you inside, and you feel like you can breathe again.

“Howdy neighbor! What’ll ya have to drink t’day?” He asks going to his retro looking fridge.

“I want what you’re having!” You pout a little, and he chuckles in response.

“You’re so cute,” he reaches into a drawer and pulls out two silver and pale blue cans.

While he’s reaching you notice something that looks like a splotch of blood on his side. You gasp, “Jasper! are you okay??”

“What? Why? ‘m fine?”

You rush over to him and point to the blood, you almost grabbed at his shirt to look for any injury, but managed to stop yourself, he’s still a stranger… kinda.

“Oh shit! jus’ a Second” he runs off presumably to change, so you sit at the bar, and admire his interesting design style.

i when he finally returns he’s in a black, even more ripped up shirt, that’s covered in safety pins, and has some metal looking band logo.

“Sorry, I don’t know where that came from” he laughs nervously.

You laugh, a brow raised in unspoken question, but move on, “So what’s on the agenda for today?”

“I have a pool—”

“No! Thank you, ahah, um sorry no thanks,” You apologize profusely for your outburst.

“You don’t gotta apologize, no pool, gotit,” he holds up a thumb and smirks with his head tilted, his black hair falls at an angle covering even more of his face. His teeth poke out like fangs over his pulled up lip.

Your face feels hot, “Okay, sorry,”

He lightly laughs, “I have a few gaming setups, and a PlayStation”

“Okay! I don’t really know any games you’ll have to teach me! is that okay?”

His grin widens, almost too excitedly, but you’re excited too, so you think nothing of it.

He picks a shooter first, you can’t even keep your head in a forward position, you keep aiming either up in the air or down at your feet. Before you start to actually get frustrated, Jasper scoots closer on the couch, and puts his hand over yours on the controller.

His thumb gently guides yours up and foreword, his body brushes up next to you.

You feel hotter in this proximity, and his hand is warmer than the other night, but still chilled. His long, slim fingers are pale with black nails and a few silver rings.

You feel his breath in your hair and turn your head, accidentally putting your lips right in front of his, you both look speedily at each others, and then up into each other’s eyes.

Pale, icy cold blue orbs stare deeply into you. He licks his lip.

You stand up too quickly and get slight vertigo, “S-sorry! I forgot I had some-things to do today! Um, Groceries! yes. ahem. bye!”

“Y/N.” Something in the sound of his voice freezes you to your bones, you don’t quite turn to look, but you turn to show you’re listening. “What happened to your eye?” He asks.

96 notes · View notes

seungsuki · 2 days

Text

surprise detective - boarding a train and solving a case with your professor? (f!reader)

warning: i mentioned it here!

note: part two is on the way!

the train wheels clatter rhythmically on the train track as [name] quietly sipped the brewed tea. the comforting surrounding sounds of chattering filled your ears as you gazed outside the window of your seat. the lush green isn’t something you can easily spot in the big city so it was refreshing to see the sights you missed in a long it

“fancy meeting you here miss [name][lastname]”

looking up, a small smile accompanied by an alert look, you calmed down realising who it was. william james moriarty, your maths professor at durham university. along with him was a strikingly similar man except he had his hair done differently and seems to wear glasses.

“professor moriarty! i didn’t expect to see you here!”, [name] replied shuffling to the side for your professor to sit beside you

“well i'm using my day off. what about you? you don’t seem like a countryside person”, william asked waving to the server

“ah.. well a family friend is getting married today so i was invited to her big day”, you explained

“do send my congratulations to her and i hope you finished this week's assignment since class resumes tomorrow”, william sighed knowing you didn’t even touch your work

“o-oh yeah yeah! i finished it like wayyy before”, you nervously smiles praying the conversation changed

your prayers were indeed answered. you heard some ruckus from the other table and before you could look over, a man came dashing to your table. he seated himself beside louis and faced william

“yo professor”, he said startling you in the process

“you’re that man with whom i sailed together on the noahtic”, william said recalling his memories

“i read about you in the newspaper. you solved the case of count drebber’s murder”, william added

“you know him professor..?”, you whispered giving the blue haired man a questionable look

“he’s a detective”, william introduced you to sherlock holmes

“a detective? wow it must be fun running around and solving cases all day”, you sarcastically gasped as sherlock rolled his eyes

“and who’s the lady here?”, sherlock questioned

“she’s my student”, william replied vaguely, a habit you noted a few times

“mr holmes, begging your pardon, but we were just finishing our meal”, louis intervened

“the only one with the plate is the lady. plus, you haven’t even been served your dessert or digestif right?”, sherlock asked looking at you

“you’re not wrong.. and it’s [name] not ‘lady’”, you corrected making quotation signs for lady

“yeah yeah, just let me bend your ear for a bit prof!”, sherlock said turning to william

“there goes my afternoon tea”, you sighed rolling your eyes

off sherlock went with his stories. louis looked over to you and gave you an apologetic look to which you simply nodded with yet another small smile. you were finally given a chance to talk to someone with such a brilliant mind yet the blue haired man ruined everything. he seemed to be recounting a case which picked the interest of your professor

“you were his benefactor, weren’t you… william james moriarty?”, sherlock asking making a finger gun towards the blonde man

you were mindblowned at his boldness. he dares to accuse your professor of such hideous crimes? william was a kind soul who would even stay back to repeat his lecture in a simpler way for you to understand. he never shamed you for that and encouraged you to find your own ways to grasp knowledge. the fact that sherlock proposed such an idea made your blood boil.

it seems you weren’t the only one who looked pissed. you looked over to sherlock's right to see louis who looked rather anxious. you didn’t miss the way his grip on the silver lunch knife tightened after listening to the line. you looked to your left and saw how calm your professor looked- no he looked unfazed, almost like he knew what sherlock was going to say

“indeed… that is the most amusing assertion. however, it is impossible to prove that i did not do something. also, it would be your job to prove that i did it, would it not?”, william spoke after the small silence

“i’m kidding! i’m kidding! that would be a case of probatio diabolica, afterall!”, sherlock joked and laughed away the matter

“i was just thinking how great it would be if you were the sharp-witted mastermind”, sherlock continued and gave william a wink to which you tried not to puke

“catch me if you can, mr holmes”

william said, resting his right arm on the seated sofa of the dining cabin. a smirk plastered on him and you swore you could see his scarlet eyes glowed under the sunlight shining through the window. since when did your professor look this good?

you mentally slapped yourself as a small blush dusted on your cheek, how could you even have such thoughts. he was your professor for crying out loud! this was all sherlock's fault. he shouldn’t have riled up your professor and you decided to let him know by sending him a small glare

“would it satisfy you to hear me say that, mr detective?”, william added, resting his head on his right hand

“you really are the best! i see my that my joke was well received except to some”, sherlock laughed locking eyes with you

“oh, you and i are seriously going to get along famously!”, sherlock said smiling

“thanks for the dramatic tea. it was a good distraction”, you thanked lowering your cup down

“i still didn’t forget your due assignment tomorrow. i expect you to be able to solve the questions presented tomorrow”, william smiled at you making you freeze

“why are you so cruel, professor moriarty! maths isn’t my best and you know that”, you groaned knowing he wasn’t joking around

“holmes”, someone called walking closer to your table

“oh, here you are!”, sherlock looked over to his left to the man in a black suit and coat

22 notes · View notes

schrodingerscougar · 3 months

Text

Summary: roommate!Simon is possessive.

Simon is practical. Why would he have an apartment of his own when he’s away so much? It would be better to rent a room, have someone who collects his mail and keeps the place clean while he’s gone. It doesn’t even bother him that his roommate is a woman in her twenties because they barely meet anyway. But when Johnny finds out, he goes feral and can’t stop bugging him about it.

“She’s cute,” he notes after his superior showed him your Instagram profile. “And you say you haven’t made a move on her? What a shame. If you won’t do it, I will. Could use a pretty little cock sleeve like her.”

He has no idea why, but Simon gets mad at the Scotsman for calling you that. If he wasn’t so good at controlling himself, he would have punched him in the face without much consideration. You’re a nice girl; smart, kind, beautiful, and understanding. You don’t get mad at him if he arrives home in the middle of the night and wakes you up by accidentally kicking something loudly in the dark. You don’t get mad if he forgets to help out around the apartment with the chores when he’s home. You don’t get mad if he forgets something that was on the shopping list.

Letting out a sigh, he leans against the wall and puts his phone back into his pocket. “She wouldn’t let you close enough for that,” he finally tells Soap.

But he doesn’t seem offended, in fact, he takes it as a challenge. “Just introduce me to her. Let’s see if I can get into her pants.”

“Not gonna happen, Johnny.”

And just like that, you remain his well-guarded secret. You remain his, and only his.

(part 2)

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap #modern warfare #mw3 #mw2 #call of duty #afab reader #f!reader

6K notes · View notes

augustinewrites · 10 days

Text

cw: pregnancy

“when you said we were sneaking out to go for a ride, i didn't think you meant that,” you sigh, breathless but content as you slump against your husband’s chest.

“deep breaths, darling,” diluc encourages, fingertips brushing down your spine. it makes him think of before, of juvenile fumbling and embarrassment. he’s much less chaste now. confident in his touches and his ability to please you. “why let the horses have all the fun?”

“you’ve been spending too much time with kaeya,” you grumble.

“i agree. it’s why i had to sneak away from his party with you.”

“your party,” you correct, letting him twine your fingers with yours. just like he had earlier, when he’d convinced you to sneak out of the surprise birthday party thrown in his honour. “the guests are likely looking for you.”

diluc’s used to being the center of attention. he doesn't necessarily enjoy it, but his day-to-day is filled with employees searching for his signature or potential clients seeking his participation on new ventures. as the king of the wine industry, he’s possibly the most in-demand person in mondstadt.

but their attention is nothing compared to yours. you’re his favourite person.

“you didn't even make it to the cake,” you add, shifting in his lap. “which means they'll be looking for us soon.”

he brings your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss upon your knuckles and making your heart flutter. “i've already had dessert.”

your face warms considerably against his skin as he chuckles, releasing your hand in favour of slowly smoothing his palm down your side, resting on your hip. he’s more than content to abandon his birthday party entirely in favour of being here in bed, watching the sunset over the fields of your home and bathing you both in golden light.

“well, it’s your birthday party,” you say softly. “even if your actual birthday is two days away, i still want you to have everything you could possibly want. and if what you want is to sneak away from your party to bed me so thoroughly, who am i to argue?”

his heart starts to thump so loudly in his chest that he fears you can hear it. he does want something else, an answer to a question that’s been stifled by shyness, fear, and uncertainty.

“and if i wanted…something else?”

your fingers trace idle patterns across his arm as you hum. “i’d do my best to give it to you.”

he knows you would. which is why he’s been waiting, making sure you want this just as much as he does.

“kaeya said something to me earlier,” he starts.

“please tell me this doesn't end with you hitting him.”

“of course not.” well, not this time. “he asked when i would make him an uncle.”

your movements pause, and diluc wonders if he'd messed up, if it was too soon–

you sit up immediately, grasping his shoulders. “he told you i was pregnant, didn't he? i knew adelaide wouldn't be able to keep it a secret. she’s been knitting baby socks since last week.”

wait.

“you’re–”

“i wanted it to be a surprise,” you deflate, a frown tugging on your pretty lips. “on your real birthday. adelinde was the only one i told, only because she’d caught me throwing up in the rose bush she’d just pruned and insisted i get checked…”

diluc’s hardly hearing you, your rambling slowing to a stop as he holds your face in his hands.

he needs to hear you say it.

“we’re having a baby?”

you place your hands atop his, nodding. “we’re having a baby, diluc.”

he presses his lips against yours, one firm kiss before he rests his forehead against yours. you are and will always be his favourite person, the only one who could give him a gift as special as this.

_____

BONUS:

“lavender bisque. whispering peach. sweet potato surprise…” adelinde murmurs, hunched over a few sheets of paper.

“what is that? is that the menu for tomorrow’s party?” kaeya asks, peeking over her shoulder.

adelinde sighs, shaking her head. “they're sample colours i had sent over for the nursery.”

“nursery?”

“yes–” the colour drains from the poor woman’s face as she realizes her slip. “oh dear!”

the realization takes a few moments to sink into the cavalry captain’s “my brother had sex?!”

for @mydiluc aka mrs diluc ragnvindr for listening to my endless rambles...and also diluc bday fic!!!

#diluc x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #diluc x you #genshin x you #f!reader

1K notes · View notes

ghouljams · 4 hours

Text

Killer!gaz who's obsessed with his final girl, the only survivor of his last massacre. He can't kill you of course, you're too interesting. I mean, he could kill you. He's got enough camera in your house, enough trackers on your clothes and hidden in your shoes. He could really kill you any time. But it's more fun like this. Popping up at random times, moving things in your house and leaving empty voicemails. Just so you know he's still thinking about you :) Price and Soap ask how you're doing occasionally and Gaz will send them stills from his live feed. Gaz has made it clear you're off limits, but that doesn't mean he can't share a few pretty pictures.

#cod x reader #x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz modern warfare #gaz cod #gaz call of duty #whats ghost doing in all this? glad you asked #he thinks Gaz is in the weirdest lifestyle D/s relationship he's ever seen #because hes not a serial killer hes just autistic and trying to be nice #f!reader

171 notes · View notes

lyxandria · 2 months

Text

the arrangement

mdni; nsfw; piv; breeding kink; loss of virginity; degradation; rough sex; dubcon (slight towards end)

It was a simple arrangement really. you spread your legs for him whenever - and wherever - he wanted.

And he would fuck you as hard and as often as he could.

When he first proposed you being his fucktoy, you had your reservations - this was not exactly the kind and loving relationship you had sought. But when he removed his belt and unzipped his pants, revealing his massive cock, you suddenly had a change of mind.

And when he plunged his thick cock inside your tight, virgin pussy for the first time, you had an immediate change of heart.

Yes, your body cried out as he filled you with a pleasurable pain you never thought was even possible.

Use me. Abuse me. Make me your toy.

You panted and whimpered, your sounds desperate, pathetic, as he pounded your pussy, fucking you harder and faster with each rough thrust. Seeing you drunk on his cock, he knew he could do anything to you he wanted and you'd be begging for more.

He slowed his thrusts, your body writhing under his, desperately seeking friction. “where do you want my load?” he asked, already knowing his answer.

On your face? He pictured how pretty you'd look with his spunk covering your facial features, gobs of cum dripping down your cheeks, glistening on your lips. The taste fresh on your mouth when he kisses your lips.

What about your chest? Your breasts were soft and round, big enough to fill each of his hands. They'd be lovely coated with his milky white cum, his hands eager to rub his juices into your soft flesh.

But there was only one place he was ever planning to cum - your womb.

Your womb was the ideal spot. He wouldn't have to worry about pulling out or protection; you would feel his hot load spill exactly where he was made to leave it. The goal here, of course, was to breed you until your belly swelled, and continue to fuck you through your pregnancy until you gave birth to his child.

And repeat that. Over and over again.

He increased his speed, his hips slamming against yours. Waiting for the moment your eyes flew open, watching as you realized what he had planned.

And you knew that because of your agreement, you couldn't refuse; you simply couldn't say no.

His fingers dug into your hips as he yanked your body close to his, drilling his cock deeper and deeper. You cried out, pleasure mixing with fear – if he wanted to breed you your first time, what else did he have in store for you. Those fears quickly dissipated, morphing into excitement as his cock twitched inside you, his tip kissing your cervix before painting your walls white with his seed.

“Take it all, you're doing so good,” he praised as he held your hips firm against his,ensuring not a single drop was wasted, your pussy milking him dry of every last drop as tears rolled down your cheeks.

Coming down from your high, your body laid boneless underneath his, his cock still inside you, plugging your pussy full of his seed.

“I hope you're ready for more,” he whispered in your ear, his tongue tickling your skin. Your eyelids fluttered as he spoke, the urge to pass out overwhelming. “That's okay,” he added, as he began to thrust inside you, fucking his seed deeper inside you. “Awake or asleep, you're my cumslut now. It's not like you can say no in your position, anyway.”

- Wriothesley, Ayato, Itto, Zhongli, Blade, Jing Yuan, Sampo, Childe

1K notes · View notes

planetsano · 9 months

Text

warnings: hybrid talk, master/pet, heats, knot mention.

gojo satoru would be the best caregiver looking after his hybrid girl. you’re so precious and sweet to him, you can barely string together a coherent sentence but satoru’s long since come to understand what you’re trying to convey. he thinks it’s so cute when you get frustrated that your words aren’t matching with the big emotions you’re feeling in your chest and it makes your bottom lip quiver and tears well in your eyes. but he understands— he makes you feel seen, heard, understood and loved.

if you’re a little lamb hybrid, you’re so gentle with kind demeanor, but you’re also timid or shy. gojo tries to get you out of your comfort zone by making you ask the cashier for your own ketchup and extra napkins.

if you’re a little bunny hybrid, you’re curious, friendly, and a bit mischievous at times. he can’t get enough of touching on your little cotton tail and soft, floppy ears. the way you eat your fruits is SO fucking cute because you space out while you nibble.

if you’re a little puppy hybrid, you’re curiosity gets you into a bit of trouble because you get into things you’re not supposed to. your demeanor is bubbly, energetic, and eager to please. you love to play fight and go outdoors.

but that’s neither here or there, really. satoru knows it’s wrong.. perverse to stick his cock in you even if you’re in heat. your tight little cunt is visibly dripping, pulsating for something to fill it right up like a fucking plug. he’s your master, right? you don’t understand why he’s hesitating so much but in your simple little mind, you don’t think about the nuisances that come with having sex in humans. it’s already viewed as taboo to own a hybrid in today’s society. he’d just be fitting out the stereotype.

gojo isn’t a pervert.

but how can he say no when you’re pawing at his crotch, sniffing his scent with a shaky whine in your throat? you’re just a precious and you’re begging for it— but he soon realizes you’re starting to beg for a knot he just doesn’t have. it disappoints him a tad bit that he can’t satisfy you in a truly primal way. so he fucks you until you’ve passed out from exhaustion and he’s shooting blanks. too much pleasure turns into pain after a while.

so he tells you he’s gonna get you some yucky pills that are supposed to “help” by suppressing your heats monthly.

but satoru can’t help but to think about the memory of how sloppy, hot and wet your cunt felt around him— he’s never had a cunt so good before. maybe he’d opt in for a more.. “natural” way of getting you through your heats..

#┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° bria writes!#jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #jujustsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #female reader #f!reader

4K notes · View notes

bakubunny · 3 months

Text

currently thinking abt satoru who’s into size humiliation and needs to be bound and cucked once in a while. it doesn’t matter if he’s small, average, or simply big but smaller than the other guy in the room. your boyfriend throbs when you tell him he can’t satisfy you, can’t fuck you as good as other men can because of his dick. he cries the prettiest tears when you make him rut into a pillow while you use a toy on yourself because he’s not big enough to fuck you. and he looks adorable when he watches you get fucked so hard and good you’re drooling, his dick drooling pre onto his stomach as much as you’re making a puddle in the sheets.

“suguru, fuck - ahh! so b-big, y’so fuckin’ big, holy shit, please don’t stop,” you moan.

your babbling has satoru whining and bucking his hips next to you, pulling on the restraints of his wrists above his head. “please, can i try? need you so bad, baby, pleeasee.”

suguru grips you by the hair and pulls up your fucked out face for satoru to see. “you really think you can give her what she needs, satoru? think that pathetic dick of yours is good enough for a pussy like this?”

satoru’s cerulean eyes turn glossy, cheeks red. “yes, been so so good, please, i-”

“shut the fuck up,” suguru says. he leans down into your ear, his pace hardly faltering. “tell him what you said earlier, princess.”

“p-pussy is for big boyyyss,” you slur, all the taunt in your words gone under the weight of suguru’s long, fat cock.

“that’s right. pussy is for big boys, not whiny brats with baby dicks,” he replies.

suguru lets your head fall back into the sheets. he grips your hip tighter and somehow plunges into your sopping cunt harder from behind, skin clapping so loud and fast it’s ringing in your ears. you cry out his name and your eyes roll.

“give satoru your hand, angel,” suguru says.

you whine, bones like jelly underneath him.

he grins. “i know, s’hard to move when i fuck you like this, huh? c’mon, you can do it.”

with the strength you have left, you reach your hand over and wrap it around satoru’s aching, leaky cock. you give a few weak strokes.

“thank you, fuck, thank you.”

“that’s a good girl…. just relax, okay? satoru knows what to do,” suguru coos.

satoru’s hips push into your hand as he whines. he sets a sloppy pace, trying so hard to fuck your hand in time with suguru’s punishing thrust into your cunt.

“yeah, that’s it. try to fuck her hand half as good as i’m fucking your girl. maybe you can fuck her pussy next if you don’t cum all over yourself.”

that, unfortunately for satoru, was all it took for him to spill ropes of white, hot seed over your fingers and up his torso with a groan.

suguru huffed a small laugh. “fucking pathetic.”

gremlins: @arlerts-angel @dcsiremc @bookcluberror @zazter-den @neon-gothicc @breadandbutter33 @i-literally-cant-with-this @rinalouu @stvrfir3 @r4td0lll @emmab3mma @aria-chikage @liliththeunqualifiedsimp @yazt09 @doumadono @dreamcastgirl99 @maddietries @jazzafayesworld @karebear5118 @unofficialmuilover @cherriluvs35 @erensslut @ruu-https @hana-yuri @keiva1000 @katsul0vr @trickster-kat @flamgosstuff @mistressreaper @angelltheninth @anonymously-ominous @amberexe2 @hisconsistency @223princess @honeeslust @naughtygobbo @acenanxious @blumoonwisteria @chaos-gem @levizonlywife @kxtsxkii @katsuslover @nuttyunknowndetective @yooxverse @jjamiee21 @levis-fav-brat @heartofjasmina

2K notes · View notes

fairyvtale · 10 months

Note

I’ve been obsessed w the movie since seeing it! Could you write something for ryan gosling Ken! where reader (a Barbie lol) compliments him on something and he then start’s following her around like a puppy and she invites him over for a sleepover (Barbie’s never miss girls night but she’ll miss it for him) just fluff maybe some cuddles with Ken having his hair played w and some kisses I just need to give him some love thank you <3

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ you are Kenough

ryan gosling! ken x f! reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

IT was a pretty normal day in the barbieland. you were chilling at the beach with your best friend, — allan. it isn’t surprising that you spend almost every second with him; you didn’t expect that it was going to change anytime soon. right now, you and allan were "drinking" your colorful drinks with paper umbrellas as decorations. it was a beautiful day (to be honest, every day in barbieland was just perfect).

“hi barbie!” you heard ken calling your name as you just smiled at him and waved.

“hi ken!” you have always liked Ken; he was hilarious, and sometimes he could be really sweet. “i really like your outfit today, ken, it suits you.” you smiled nicely, being honest with him.

“thank you, barbie, you also look pretty” he said, and you only smiled shyly at his compliment. allan sent you a surprised look because he didn’t know that you would like Ken. maybe it was fear that he would lose you (of course it wasn’t true). but at the same time, you knew that he was supporting.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

barbie doesn’t knew that it was only the beginning.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

AFTER this situation, Ken started to be your shadow; he was in every place you were. he always wanted to make you happy with compliments and sweet gestures. other barbies also found it sweet because he was just the perfect ken for you.

today was girls night at the stereotypical barbie’s dream house. you loved them, and you always have the best time with all barbies. but today you wanted to spend time alone with ken, you loved sleepovers with allan, so why don't you do it with ken instead? you find Ken standing on the beach doing nothing, so you come to him and poke his arm to get his attention.

“hi barbie! how are you?” he asked as you smiled at him.

“i’m doing fine, thank you. i was wondering if you want to have a sleepover with me today?” you asked him, wishing that he would say ‘yes’.

“as a girlfriend and boyfriend?” he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. you nodded excitedly, and he instantly agreed.

“what will we do as a boyfriend and girlfriend?” ken asked you as you two walked to your house.

“we can hold hands, we can kiss our cheeks, and we can cuddle,” you answered as he smiled at you sweetly, grabbed your hand, and kissed your cheek as you smiled flatter.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

YOU two were at your house, sitting on your bed under the pink fluffy blanket. you knew that you skipped the girls' night, but you were happy to lay and cuddle with ken, and girls night was every night, so you could spend this one time doing something else.

you closed your eyes and placed your head on ken’s torso.

“i love to be your girlfriend, ken” you admitted with a shy smile.

“and i love to be your boyfriend, barbie�� he said happily.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

it was so nice to write it, cause it’s just a fluff and ryan as a ken was incredible!

i hope you liked it!

#barbie #barbie movie #barbie x reader #ken x reader #ryan gosling #margot robbie #imagines #barbie 2023 #fluff #request #requests are open #f!reader

3K notes · View notes

guacamoleroll · 4 months

Text

𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉 「𝔩𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯」 ೀ⋆｡˚

content. f!reader. discussions of separation/divorce, friends to lovers, (name) is a fallen angel, sexual harassment, insecurities, discussions of mental health, spoilers for hazbin hotel season finale, implied/referenced not-safe for work. not proofread. 3.3k+ words.

author's note. i'm not sure if i'll be making a valentine's day post, but i haven't updated in a while, and i wanted to post something. so here's another hazbin hotel oneshot that's been in my drafts for a while! (sorry to all my bsd readers, i will be posting content soon!) i hope you guys enjoy ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

synopsis. two fallen ones, cut from the same cloth, destinies forever intertwined by the choices you made as young seraphim.

OR someone comes in to try and ruin your relationship with lucifer, and he isn't happy about it.

You remembered the sensation of an eternal inferno, the mark of damnation that scorched your fingertips, submerging your divine being within a cluster of flames. Exiled from the heavens—a fate worse than death to most became an accepted element of your newfound reality. You never belonged perched atop clouds, even with the virtue nestled in the recesses of your heart. A part of you feared the unknown as you descended through novas and clouds, but it felt like a pressure had lifted from your being as those imposing gates shrunk behind you.

As the first of a cluster of falling stars, your impact landed you on the steaming ground of a new, hellish landscape, your mind scattered from the force of the fall, limbs trembling with their aching joints. And that was when you saw him, a brand-new man who held out his hand, smile desperate yet reassuring. The Morning Star himself, brought upon the same fate, still shaken from the tragedy of his descent—it had been much more personal for him.

“It’ll be okay, (Name),” his familiar voice reassured, but it was impossible not to hear the waver in his tone as your hands intertwined. “It’ll all be okay.”

And with a single touch, traversing hand-in-hand through this foreign land, you knew that someday, he would be right.

But that happened many millennia ago, a tale for storybooks rather than a memory that should’ve constantly been on a loop in your mind, held onto during the dead of lonely, bitter nights. Despite your long-standing friendship, the both of you held very separate lives—him with his family, you with your industry. You worked in tandem in relation to the public and aristocratic duties but otherwise barely spoke past the occasional smile and wave. And no, you couldn’t help the desolation that had sprouted inside your heart, the muscle aching as you observed his radiant smile from across ballrooms, the king exchanging affectionate glances at his wife while coddling his sweet daughter. But you were happy for him all the same. He deserved to be surrounded by those he loved, deserved to be happy after years of heartbreak, even if you weren’t in the picture.

But you knew that you could depend on each other, even if you hadn’t spoken in months. It was an unspoken connection between you, a rule unbroken. Which was the reason you knew his midnight call one evening had been serious. His voice was flooded with anguish, sputtering out incomprehensible words as his breath caught with every beat. You dropped everything, the paperwork and meeting planning, flying over with speed so fast that the denizens of Hell whispered for days about the shooting star that had flown across the sky that evening.

In your journey, there was one persistent question that kept bothering you—why wasn’t his wife the one to comfort him? It wasn’t that you minded, not at all, but the entire situation struck you as odd. However, your answer became clear as you cracked open the doors to his bed chambers; the room was frozen and still as if left abandoned. However, the knocked-over furniture and smashed artifacts only made it look like it was robbed, which you highly doubted. And there in the center of the chaos was the Morning Star himself—no, Lucifer. Simply Lucifer. His body crumpled to the ground, painful hiccups leaving his lips. You slipped inside with ease and were about to grab his attention, and then you spotted it, the large lettering of a familiar type of document—a divorce agreement.

You were aware that the relationship between Lucifer and Lilith wasn’t perfect, not by any means. When they had fallen in love, there wasn’t a guideline for navigating relationships and marriage. They had to play it entirely by ear, leading to rushed decisions and a shaky foundation. You had always believed that they were each other’s perfect half, but it was only because their punishment and subsequent banishment had tied them together and forced them to suffer the same fate. At least, that was their belief for a couple of millennia. It didn’t mean that the split that was bound to happen didn’t hurt.

His cries had been hard to hear, throaty and painful, his body trembling as he mourned on the floor. It took a culmination of your mental and physical strength to unravel him, forcing him away from those papers and into an embrace, slowly steadying his breath with yours as he clung to you as if you would leave if he let go. That night set the standard for weeks of a miserable routine, with the former king reduced to sobs and silence. It was unbearable, especially as he pulled away from those who cared for him—his fellow sins, his friends, and especially his daughter. But you continued to hold on, not leaving even with his harsh utterances and occasional outbursts. You wouldn’t let him be alone, couldn’t let him be alone, moving into the broken family’s manor to care for him full-time.

And he would always be thankful for that.

His mental health was climbing uptick for years, fluctuating back and forth until he had stabilized, at least in comparison to his state before. He became fantastic at masking his depression, brushing it underneath the rug as he delved into his own creations, pushing many of his relationships even further away as he stopped leaving home. You were the one to bring him food and clean the estate—his staff had drifted to other careers over the past few years. You were the one assuring that he wasn’t left hunched over a bench in the worst posture possible, toiling away with his latest obsession, no matter the cuteness of the ducks.

In his more conscious moments, you would listen as he ranted about his issues, even though you both were aware they were a product of his self-isolation. But in those instants, whispering quietly as if the heavens still held onto your every word, hiding from its light as if the touch of it would scorch your skin, an intimacy blossomed from the depths of your former friendship. It had remained idle for centuries, underlying the foundation of every interaction and word, leaving fleeting touches and shared laughter in your blissful youths for stern support and brief softness in your demonic adulthoods—neither of you ever noticed that you saw the other through heart-shaped lenses. Two fallen ones, cut from the same cloth, destinies forever intertwined by the choices you made as young seraphim.

But that had been the norm for thousands of years.

And without knowing, you had fallen into a relationship stage humans had archaically dubbed as “courting,” traveling outside the estate for the chance to spend time with one another, exchanging personalized gifts whenever the opportunity arose, swapping words of encouragement and affection. It was only after you had kissed him on the cheek one night that you both realized your feelings, and it only spiraled on from there. There were scars from his past love—undoubtedly, you had nurtured them with care—but even despite those, you worked to establish a healthy, balanced relationship as you navigated this strange stage in your lives.

However, there was someone who had not been quite so fond of this new development. You had attended meetings with the Heaven Embassy for many years as a favor to Lucifer, his absence becoming common after his separation from Lilith, but you could still remember locking eyes with the first man as you entered the room, dropping the chicken drum in his hands as his mouth widen agape.

“Hot damn.”

His flirtatious and oftentimes self-centered advances didn’t fly past your head like you wished they would. It seemed despite having thousands of years under his belt, he was unable to learn any kind of manners, but he had been the original sexist prick. And for his status as a divine man, he fucked around a lot. You didn’t doubt that was due to his own insecurities about both of his wives preferring someone else’s dick over his.

Once you and Lucifer had started dating, you happened to make the mistake of slipping that information to Adam in the hopes that he would back off, but it only seemed to provide him a challenge as his flirtations increased tenfold. From then on, your meetings no longer consisted of the same old information surrounding the exterminations; rather, they were him pointing out the many sexual accolades that he had roped under his belt and the way that apparently made him better than Lucifer—his favorite line was always that “that snake must have a little snake.”

Your disdain was obvious, repeating over and over for him to shut his mouth, but he would only smirk, taking your response as a sign that he had struck a nerve and that it was an opportunity to dig deeper. You decided to take over all the meetings with the embassy, keeping Lucifer away from the lecherous banter of the man, no matter the discomfort that formed in your gut from his unabashed perverseness and the predatory stares at your body.

“Come onnnn, babe,” Adam whined, in the middle of biting the meat off a chicken bone.

You shot him a look. “I’m not your babe, Adam.”

“Babe.” If you were able to reach over and strangle him, you would’ve. That was probably the reason the coward used a hologram instead of coming here himself. “A guy like that couldn’t possibly please you the way I could.”

You massaged your nose bridge, pointedly ignoring the flicker of his eyes from your face to your chest, unable to maintain stable eye contact. “Can we just get on with the meeting?”

“You know I’m right, but I’ll let you off the hook for now.”

You groaned, slamming your head onto the table.

From years onward, his nerve only increased, but he had never shown his bloodlust to you before until the exorcist army descended from the heavens to wreak chaos and death upon the doorstep of Lucifer’s only child, Charlie. You and the ever-so-optimistic princess of Hell developed quite a soft spot for one another, which wasn’t difficult since you had already been considered family in centuries past. The title of your romantic relationship with her father initially came with questions and a couple of awkward moments, but it wouldn’t stop either of you from growing a deeper friendship and understanding, walking through the process together. And it definitely didn’t stop you from defending the girl you had seen for years as a pseudo-daughter, along with her noble ambitions.

“Charlie!” you yelled, knocking Adam away from her as he attempted to strangle her. Charlie sputtered, holding her throat with a pained cough, and you raised a steady hand to her back, helping her rise to her feet. You gave her a once-over, relieved to find that she had no substantial wounds besides a couple of cuts and bruises.

You sighed, cupping her rosy cheeks. “Thank goodness you’re alright. Sorry for being so late. Your father will be here any moment.”

Her formerly desolate expression quickly changed into a beaming smile, eyes glimmering with revitalized determination. “Good! We need all the help we can get.”

However, the moment was cut short by the overexaggerated breaths of a particular man, Adam wobbling to his feet as he cradled his bruised ribs, which you didn’t doubt had been cracked in the impact. It was hard not to smile as he struggled to stand, a wave of retribution twitching through your fingertips.

“You bitch,” he groaned between shallow gasps, though his voice drifted into a humorous lilt. “You know, I’m all for feisty women, but this shit’s a bit extreme, don’tcha think, babe?”

“I am not your babe, Adam.”

You cringed at the moan that left his lips, knowing it was not from the pain of his bruises. “God damn, I love it when you say my name.” He chuckled. “It’d be better if you screamed it.”

“You couldn’t have been that good if both your wives left you for someone else,” you muttered, swallowing your bodily urge to vomit as you rubbed the burgeoning headache coursing through your temples.

His expression drained of any warmth or humor, only leaving behind the rotted, sinful corpse of a man that he pretended not to be. “What the fuck did you say to me, bitch?”

“Hmmm,” you hummed, rolling your eyes. “Did I strike a nerve there?”

His mouth contorted into a snarl. “You know, the only reason that snake keeps your ass around is because he needs a couple of assets,” he barked, curving his hands to gesture toward your curves. “To distract him!”

“Hey! Don’t talk about him—”

He cut you off, his imposing figure towering over you. “You’re only a convenience. A pretty face and a hole to fuck.”

You gasped, but he didn’t let you speak, a smirk curling up on his disgusting face. “You don’t mean anything to him, hun,” he sneered, his voice sickeningly sweet as he grabbed your chin, craning your neck at a muscle-aching angle to stare into your eyes. “You had a chance at heaven, slut. A chance to be with me. And you fuckin’ blew it—!”

He didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence, a bone-crunching punch tunneling into his face, his body cast off the hotel, which rocked under the aftershock, before it started to crumble like a deck of cards. With no time to waste, you and Charlie haphazardly jumped from shrapnel piece to shrapnel piece, able to land on the ground with barely a tumble as it collapsed into your foundation. The moment would’ve been devastating if your focus hadn’t been pinpointed elsewhere, the screams of a dying man drawing everyone to the impact pit.

“You have a lot of fuckin’ nerve,” a low voice scowled, sweltering steam blocking everyone’s vision away from the pair until it evaporated into the air, and that was when you spotted him. His voice was barely recognizable. The duplicated tones and whispers surrounding each word made him unidentifiable. But you knew who it was; those familiar sets of wings and the eyes of his tailcoat were clues enough. You hadn’t seen him take this form in decades, centuries even—he had no use for it, and to go to such an extreme was unlike him. He was shaking more than ever before; his fists balled up Adam’s collar as he pinned him to the ground.

“Intruding on my fuckin’ realm. Hurting my daughter.” And with each offense, another blow was added to the first man’s face, which looked more like roadkill than a former human with each malefaction. “Harassing and insulting my future wife!”

“Don’t you mean your little whore?” Adam managed to utter, that cocky tone still persistent.

But that was a terrible mistake.

Lucifer did not respond to his comment, not at all. Instead, he paused, finding himself unprepared for the sheer audacity of the man underneath him, a man only clinging to life through recesses of holy power and spite. To the unsuspecting bystander, it would seem the king had calmed himself down, but instead, an inferno blazed between his fingertips, his form threatening to tear with the amount of heavenly light that he balanced on his palms. The ire of his many eyes looked upon Adam, and they saw to it that his judgment day had come early.

“Die.”

“Dad!”

Luck seemed to have Adam’s back as Charlie intervened, one of the few people who could ever draw her father out of such an irate warpath. However, it was only after a moment of contemplation from Lucifer, whose eyes stared at Adam, his face unreadable as his fingers twitched before he cracked a wicked smirk.

“How’s mercy feel, bitch?”

The next moments were a blur, though those eyes had turned towards you instead, not with the anger they had towards Adam, but of sheer contemplation—not that you paid attention to them, watching Adam’s death unfold in an ironically anti-climatic sort of way. You would’ve felt bad if your mind didn’t remedy the guilt in your gut with memories of your several encounters, most of which were not PG-13. The rest of the staff and residents gathered their bearings, joining to work on rebuilding the hotel, but you did not have the strength to. Instead, you took a moment for yourself, thoughts toiling through your head as they often did, not understanding the icky, nauseous feeling pooling at the bottom of your stomach.

You flinched at the brush of a hand that rested on your shoulder, only to find that it had been Lucifer, his brow furrowed in that same contemplative expression. And much like those times alone in the estate decades prior, a patient silence persisted as he sat next to you, gauging each touch as he pulled you closer, allowing your limp body to lean into his.

“You know none of what that asshole said is true, right?”

Is that what you had been so concerned about? You couldn’t tell. Your thoughts surrounding your relationship, especially in the context of his former love, had always been indecipherable, even to yourself. His question brought a small beam of clarity into the shadowed pits of your darkest thoughts, but it wasn’t the time to talk about it. Not now, at least.

“Yeah, I know.” Your voice was more shaken than you wanted it to come out, but he understood the underlying message. He could tell it wasn’t the truth, not entirely, and that the roots of your insecurities weren’t something to be remedied through a singular conversation. But it was a start. He intertwined your fingers, caressing the bare area of your ring finger.

“I wish you would’ve told me,” he spoke, his voice soft. “I would never have let you go to those meetings.”

You stayed staring out into the distance. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

However, he believed differently, tilting your chin as he cupped your face, much more loving compared to the hands that had grabbed you prior. And his eyes, ones that had been filled with hatred, now glinted in sharp concern. “But it is a big deal. That’s sexual harassment.”

“You were going through so much,” you replied. “It was just one additional thing I didn’t want you to deal with. Another burden on your back.”

“(Name),” he said, voice stern.

The gruffness of his uncompromising tone drew your eyes to your hands. “Any insult to you is an insult to me. Always has been, always will be. People don’t get to talk to you like that. It doesn’t matter what shit I’m going through. That doesn’t mean you get to be thrown under the bus.” He cracked a smile. “And anyone who even thinks of treating you less than the perfection you are deserves to be roasted alive. You’re not a burden. You’re priceless.”

“You’re really into those cannibalism metaphors recently,” you quipped, a bit of your reprieve and humor returning back. He laughed, his heart falling into ease, though he recognized the nod towards his disdain for a certain radio demon, his expression contorting in disgust.

“I’m not gonna eat him! Think of how gross that thing would taste. Just awful, bleh—!”

You cut him off with a kiss, making his rosy cheeks redden more. “Thanks, Lu.”

You tried to stand. His arm braced underneath your back, a hand brushing across the sensitive skin of your waist as he hovered above, his lips locked onto yours. You sighed into his mouth as his fingers mapped every beauty mark of your face, only for him to split, panting. His eyes shone with recognizable desperation, but the smirk on his lips told you he was prepped to tease, brushing the stray baby hairs out of your face that had been ruffled in the fray.

“If someone ever bothers you like that again, you tell me. Got it?”

You only sighed. “Lucifer, I can handle my—”

He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, mouth upturned in a cheeky grin at the way it cut you off. “It’s not smart to fight without your shield, now, is it?’

You relented, unable to withhold your bashful grin. “Of course.”

A silence persisted.

“Your future wife, hm?”

“…shit.”

ᴛᴀɢʟɪ��ᴛ: @little-miss-chaoss

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅#f!reader #꒰ა ⎼ [lucifer]#que'd .ᐟ ‧₊˚#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader

1K notes · View notes