Hey

Hey<3

I hope you're having a lovely day like you♡

I have a lil request which is OM brothers accidentally hitting MC maybe in the face or smth.

Thank you in advance ☺

a/n: considering the daily chaos that ensues at the HoL, I could see a lot of accidents happening. plus, they're demons—maybe they forget their own strength, y'know?

➤ when accidents happen | the demon brothers

1.1k words | sfw | hurt/comfort | gn!reader

Lucifer makes a grab for someone—probably Mammon or Satan—who ducks behind you at the last moment, causing his hand to swipe across your cheek or forehead instead. You rub the sore spot and start sputtering angrily at them, glaring back and forth between Lucifer's bewildered expression and the guilty face of the sibling he was reaching for. Their little fight is momentarily forgotten when they both comfort you and make sure you're okay. Lucifer feels the most guilt and over the next few days, you catch him staring at your face like he's trying to make absolutely sure you're not injured or holding a grudge against him. He eventually remembers how this whole situation started, and his sibling's delayed punishment is much more severe because you were caught in the crossfire.

Mammon nearly crashes into you in his rush to escape Lucifer or Levi's wrath. You have no idea what the shouting down the hall is about—maybe he spent too much money at the casino again or maybe he broke something valuable. All you know is that you're heading to the library and minding your own business when Mammon comes tearing around the corner at lightning-fast speed. It's comical how quickly his expression morphs from surprise to horror when he realizes you're in his path. He grazes your side even though he changes direction to avoid hitting you head-on. He loses his balance and the momentum sends him crashing to the floor. Whoever was chasing him catches up to him and there's gonna be hell to pay, but Mammon managed to avoid seriously hurting you and that's all he really cares about.

Levi shifts into his demon form when he's cuddled with you in his tub but he doesn't always realize it. You wake up most mornings with his tail wrapped around part of you: your arm, your waist, one of your legs. When Levi gets excited, his tail thumps against the porcelain. (You can't help but think about an excited dog wagging his tail, but you keep that comparison to yourself.) You usually fall asleep curled around each other, but sometimes his tail flails around enough that it wakes you up. Tonight his tail flicks roughly against the tip of your nose, and your eyes water from surprise and the initial burst of pain. You're fine again within a couple minutes, but that doesn't stop Levi from apologizing profusely and he nearly sobd with embarrassment over the whole thing.

Satan has better control over his frustration and rage now than when you first met him, but he still needs some sort of outlet when he feels overwhelmed. He usually storms off to his room and deals with it privately. You've offered him the solution of screaming into a pillow, but it's not soothing for him like it can be for you. He often destroys something instead—ripping a book to shreds (and regretting it later) or throwing something against the wall. Whatever's in his hand becomes collateral damage. If he forgets you're in his room too, it can be dangerous. He's never thrown something at you, but poor aim and bad luck means that whatever he sends flying against the wall can ricochet into pieces and hit you after. It's like a bucket of cold water dumping over his head when your little noise of surprise catches his attention, and he fusses over you endlessly while he makes sure you're not really hurt. He doesn't think it's funny when you grin and remind him that you're still in better shape than his now-destroyed coffee mug is.

Asmo rarely hurts you even by accident, and usually it's in silly moments of clumsy excitement. Today he painted his nails with a new nail art technique he hasn't tried before. You both lean down at the same time to admire his work and his forehead smacks into yours. You're both a little stunned and your eyes water from the shock rather than actual pain. He breaks out into giggles when you whine his name and try to blame him even though it's really no one's fault. Asmo accepts responsibility anyway and he apologizes profusely, but he hesitates to hug you when his nails are still wet and tacky with polish. He opens his arms wide so you can wrap your arms around his chest instead. He peppers your head with kisses and promises to make it up to you as soon as his nails are dry.

Usually Beel polishes off all the leftovers at dinner. Some nights you want extra helpings too, and it's like a mad dash to help yourself before Beel does. Tonight you both reach for the dish of hellfire scalloped potatoes at the same time. Your fingers grab the side of the dish first, but his fingers squeeze around yours immediately after. His grip is tight—too tight—and you wince from the pressure of his fingers digging into hand and the uncomfortable heat of the ceramic dish against your palm. Mammon grabs his fork and stabs Beel's hand with it on your behalf. Beel looks so guilty when he pulls his arm away and insists that you can have the rest. His stomach growls in protest, but you know it was an accident and you're not really hurt. After you shake the stiffness from your fingers, you scoop some of the food onto his plate before helping yourself to the rest. Later on, he offers to take you out for ice cream as an apology.

When Belphie sleeps, he has some cursory awareness of what's going on around him but he tries to block it out. He's not easy to move around, either—his body is like dead weight, heavy and awkward and unyielding. When you nap together, he usually falls asleep and doesn't move around too much. You might scoot away when his body next to yours causes you to overheat, but he tends to stay exactly how he is. It's days when he has active dreams or bad nightmares that things can get a little awkward. He might wrap an arm around you suddenly and it's nearly impossible to wiggle free, and sometimes his tail makes an appearance and drapes over you when he feels particularly clingy. Sometimes your arm ends up pinched against the mattress after he rolls on top of you in his sleep. He'll wake up when he realizes it's you trying to get his attention, but his apologies for nearly crushing you don't sound very sincere. Once he's lifted himself off you, he lets you get repositioned first then he cuddles up beside you again. As he drifts off to sleep, he grumbles under his breath about how it couldn't have been that bad.

home workout | wakatoshi ushijima

summary — wakatoshi works out at home. he looks hot doing it.

pairing — wakatoshi ushijima x reader

warnings — nsfw content. minors dni. smut, blowjob, cum swallowing, pet name ‘my love’

word count — 1.3k

author’s note — please listen to this audio of wakatoshi (and kuroo) breathing heavily for the most effective experience

It’s not your fault your boyfriend is totally irresistible. He’s tempting you on purpose– you’re sure of it.

You’re trying so, so hard to focus on the reality show playing on the TV, but Waktoshi is being terribly obscene. A few feet away, he’s splayed out on a yoga mat, lifting dumbbells over his head.

It’s unintentional, the way he gasps and heaves and, ever so often, groans. It’s unintentional, yet it leaves you squeezing your thighs together and biting down on your tongue because your mind is starting to wander.

If you were a better person, you’d go to any other room in the house and let him work out in peace. But you stay seated, let your eyes creep over to the titan of a man in your living room.

He’s a powerhouse in every aspect. You’d think that maybe you’d be used to it after having him in your life for so long, but your eyes widen and drool pools in your mouth at the sight of him.

Thick, hard thighs. Veined arm muscles, straining. Carved pectorals and abdomen, clenching with every movement. Corded muscle over every inch of his body–a display of pure, unwavering strength. The manifestation of years of work he’s put into the sport he plays for a living now. Wakatoshi’s tan skin gleams with droplets of sweat, too, face flushed down to his chest.

It’s terribly, horribly teasing. It’s precisely what he looks like when he’s above you, rutting his powerful hips into yours relentlessly, face morphed into a mixture of concentration and bliss. It’s what he sounds like when he pounds away at you, brings you to tears from pure bliss.

You want him. You need him. Your mouth is too empty, you decide. So you stand, shuffling over to him with an edge of guilt.

“Can you stop?” you say, standing by his mat.

He pauses, thick eyebrows furrowing. Concern quickly fills his sharp features.

“What have I done, my love?”

“You’re hot. It’s distracting me,” you tell him, crossing your chest.

His shoulders sag when it hits him he hasn’t actually done anything wrong and he chuckles, a deep rumble in his broad chest. “I apologise. Can you forgive me?”

“I will if you let me suck your dick,” you say, already sinking to your knees between his robust thighs. There’s mischief dancing behind the batting of your eyelashes, enticing your sweet boyfriend.

Wakatoshi likes to think he’s focused– it’s what he’s been told all his life, by coaches and teachers alike. His concentration never wavers, his determination ever so stable. Around you, though? He becomes entirely unrelenting.

It’s why he doesn’t stop you as you paw at his jersey shorts, smoothing a hand up his thigh, along his crotch, up to the waistband. It’s why he nods when you peer up at him for permission to pull them down his legs, no matter how simple it would be for him to ask you politely to wait until he finishes the few reps he has left.

His boxers come down and his cock, half-hard, springs upwards in its entirety. Your fingertips barely touch when they wrap around the tanned flesh which jumps when you start stroking up and down gently.

Drool pools in your mouth, your lidded eyes dropping to the sight of your boyfriend’s perfect dick. With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you pump up and down his veiny length until he’s rock hard and blushing and pearly rivulets of pre dribble from the slit of his tip.

That’s when you start to drag your tongue along him, from his base all the way to his head, watching attentively as his head falls back and he showcases his glistening Adam’s apple. He’s always so sensitive, falling apart at your slightest touch.

Your thumb teases his slit, smearing pre over his tip as it leaks while your tongue traces the veins that adorn his cock. And then, with a lustful hunger burning deep in your abdomen, your lips wrap around him and swallow.

You hardly give yourself a second to adjust as you take half of him without hesitation, tears welling and throat clenching as you adjust to the girthy intrusion. Wakatoshi hisses as his giant hand flies to your scalp, stopping you before you can push yourself any further.

“Easy, my love,” he says in a strained whisper.

It’s hard to take his advice when you peer up and catch the tensing of his hard muscles, the parting of his lips, and the affection that glimmers in his olive eyes. It urges you on, really.

You pull back with webs of spit connecting your lips to his cock, stomach fluttering as your boyfriend brings his hand to your cheek and strokes it with his thumb. A second later and you’re dipping your head back down to envelop your mouth around him, choosing to bob your head this time.

“Oh, f-” Wakatoshi cuts himself off with a groan, your throat so warm and tight around him that he shivers. He sighs when your free hand moves to grasp at one of his heavy balls, squeezing lightly but it’s just enough to make his cock throb in your mouth.

As you bob, you take him further and further until your nose is pressed to his pelvis and the dark wiry hairs of his happy trail tickle your skin. He squeezes his eyes shut from the jolts of pleasure that travel deep into his core, his brain turning to fog from the bliss of your slippery mouth. His flesh becomes seared, the blush on his cheeks seeping down to his chest.

Your throat clicks and splutters around him–he’s so big, not meant to be taken like this, and yet you do. With wet eyes and a numb mind, you keep him shoved down your mouth as your fingers take turns fondling one of his balls at a time.

Wakatoshi thinks he’s close to passing out. He can hardly remind himself to stave off his orgasm, too busy as he’s rapt by the burning pleasure of your tongue working his cock.

You pull away, heaving for air, but it’s only to mouth at his balls and suckle at them until they’re covered in your slobber. You trail your tongue along the underside of his cock next, watching him gulp– watching him slowly fall apart.

When you swirl your tongue and suck lightly at his tip, Wakatoshi moans. His abdomen tightens, his fingers scratching at your scalp as they tangle into your roots. He’s losing all semblance of composure. You can tell, from the way his thighs tense and ragged breaths fall from his lips.

“I’m- close,” he groans, low, through clenched teeth.

You’re bobbing your head again with determination, the lewd sounds every time you lower your mouth only bringing Wakatoshi to his edge more quickly. With your hand pumping up and down simultaneously, he doesn’t stand a chance.

His cock twitches in your mouth, and with a deep, rumbling groan that shakes his entire body, he releases. His warm load spills down your throat, his muscles bulging as pleasure wracks his huge body. A Roman god succumbing.

As you pull off of him to replenish your lungs, Wakatoshi’s mind is airy. To him, one thing becomes clear, however.

He lunges forward, scooping you up with ease despite having orgasmed just a moment ago.

“Wakatoshi!” you squeal as he tosses you upon the couch. He kisses you, messy, licking into your mouth like he’s trying to taste himself on your tongue. It makes your head spin.

“I’d like to make sure you’ll forgive me,” he says, still breathless and blushing. His hands wander up your t-shirt, fingertips brushing at your skin making you shiver. “Will you let me return the favour, please?”

— broken promises

pairing: earth 42 miles x fem!reader

summary: while earth 42 miles comes off a lot tougher than 1610’s based off his cold demeanor and his trauma induced apathy, somewhere under that hard shell, he’s still the sweet boy he used to be and wants love just like anyone else. miles is aged up to 17 in this, simply for the plot! wc: 2,640

contains: spoilers!!! angst to fluff

word bank: “mi vida” - my life, “mi amor” - my love

playing now: Wasted Love Freestyle by Jhene Aiko

You and Miles have been dating for 7 months now, and lately he hasn’t been around as much as he’d like to, for obvious reasons. Well, not obvious to you. You still don’t know that Miles is the Prowler, and he’s intent on keeping it that way.

It’s the third time he’s flaked on plans he arranged himself this month, and he can tell you’re beyond tired of it with the way you just blew his phone up.

— Miles POV —

Miles’ phone buzzes in his pocket but he decides against checking it, marking it off as something unimportant. He’s already accepted a job from his Uncle and a distraction wouldn’t do him any good right now.

8:03 PM

Mi Vida: please don’t tell me you’re doing this again bro.

Mi Vida: this is a joke, right?

Mi Vida: hello?? you were supposed to be outside thirty minutes ago.

Mi Vida: Miles Gonzalo Morales I swear to GOD if I don’t hear your motorcycle revving outside in the next five minutes so help me.

*buzz buzz*

Ignored.

*buzz buzz*

*buzz buzz*

He kissed his teeth, lashes fluttering in aggravation and air puffing through his nostrils at the continuous buzzing against his leg. His shoulder fell to the side a bit as he reached down into his pocket to grab his phone while he climbed up the stairwell, following his uncle. Seeing your contact name on his lock screen, his brow raised as he read over the message, then they bunched together in the middle of his forehead incredulously, the tone of your texts causing his strides to falter.

Miles was genuinely confused for a moment, trying to think back on if he’d done anything to upset you, until the memory of him assuring you he wouldn’t do this again slapped him across the face harder than his mom did that one time he’d cursed at her on accident. The two of you had a date planned for tonight, and he swore to you he’d be there this time, fifteen minutes early at that, even though he knew there was a big chance he wouldn’t be able to make it all. It was selfish of him to promise something he couldn’t guarantee, knowing how demanding the other factors in his life were, but he was so tired of disappointing you, and how happy you looked when he told you you guys would finally get to spend some time together really had him thinking he could make it work this time.

Eyes falling shut for a beat, a heavy sigh leaves his lips, tongue darting out to dampen them as he quickly tries to think of something to respond with that won’t piss you off more than you already are.

He texts you back: sorry Mami, something came up yk how it is. i got you tomorrow tho fasho

Yeah. Real smooth.

*buzz buzz*

Mi Vida: yk what, just forget it, Miles.

Damn, she called me by my first name? I definitely fucked up this time. He thinks to himself.

Mi Vida: whoever you’re with is clearly more important to you than what we got goin on, so it’s cool. stay where you at, i’m done

Shit.

His heart beats a little faster in his chest, the sensation a semblance of something he hadn’t felt in years. Fear. He texts back as fast he can, head snapping up to see he’s fallen behind his Uncle, and he hurriedly jumps a few stairs before he comes to a stop again.

Miles: done??? the fuck you mean you done?

You don’t respond fast enough for his liking, so he double texts.

Miles: baby stop playin. you trippin it ain’t even like that at all

Mi Vida: i’m deadass. don’t call my phone.

He utters a string of curses under his breath, alerting his Uncle who had already noticed he was falling behind when he heard the inconsistency of his nephew’s footsteps. He’s ample steps above Miles, turning his head only slightly over his shoulder to address the distracted teenager.

“C’mon man, get off the phone. We got business to tend to. You in or you out?” Aaron asks. “You know I can’t have nobody holdin’ me back.” There’s a hint of something deeper playing within his words, and Miles knows he doesn’t have a choice.

He swallows hard as he looks up at the older man. Taking one last look down at his phone, his jaw clenches in contemplation before he’s shaking his head with a quiet sigh and shoving it back into his pocket. He’ll have to deal with this later.

“My fault. Yeah, I’m in.” He mumbles, doing a quick jog to catch up to the man.

His uncle’s lips quirk into a smirk, a heavy hand coming down to clap Miles’ back and squeeze his shoulder.

“My man. Aight, let’s roll.”

— Your POV —

8:05 PM

You: i’m deadass. don’t call my phone.

You watch closely as the three dots bubble at the bottom left corner of your screen, an indicator that he was typing. But instead, a quiet scoff slips from your mouth when they disappear, your shoulders slumping in disappointment at the word that appears below your last message.

Seen

You angrily toss your phone onto your bed, bottom lip quivering when you catch a glance at yourself in the mirror when you walk by. You’d gotten dressed up all nice just for him, because you knew the chance of him being free for a night to take you out was rare. You’d started your makeup early just to make sure he wouldn’t have to wait outside for you while you finished, and you’d even styled your hair the way you knew he liked. All for nothing.

You kicked your shoes off and dropped your purse to the ground, heading to your bathroom to undo all your work. You washed all the makeup off your face, the act feeling more humiliating than ever when you remembered why you’d even put it on in the first place. To feel pretty for someone who barely even showed up.

You closed your eyes and tried to calm down, hastily reaching back over to check your phone just one more time. Maybe he was thinking of what to say, and that’s why he’d left you on seen.

Seen 25 minutes ago

Maybe not.

You hated crying. And more than anything you were tired of doing it, especially when broken promises were the cause of your wasted tears. Your evening was basically wasted, and you weren’t in the mood to do anything else anyway, so you decided that you’d call it a night and head to bed early. You slipped on some comfy sleep shorts, tying your hair up for the night before grudgingly tugging a large t-shirt over your head. Your brow perked up at the scent that wafted past your nostrils, and pinching the shirt with your forefinger and thumb, you brought the fabric to your nose and immediately caught a whiff of Miles’ cologne. You then realized you’d put on a shirt you stole from him a while back, and the way your heart fluttered made you even more upset than you already were. You brushed it off to the best of your ability and crawled into bed, trying your hardest to keep your sniffling to a minimum as you pulled your blankets over your shoulder.

____

As soon as he’d gotten the job done and his Uncle gave him the okay to dip, Miles’ feet were moving at the speed of light down the stairwell. And while he had sort of rushed the plays he made with some of the city’s goons, he just had to pray that all his Uncle’s money was in the banded wad of cash he returned with, or it would be his ass.

Skipping a few steps he hopped down onto the platform before the next set, checking his phone for the time simultaneously.

10:15 PM

“Damn.” He groaned, pushing through the doors, cool wind hitting his face. Once he reached his motorcycle he shoved his helmet over his head, hopped on, and sped off with a “skrrrt”.

He sped through the streets carelessly, something you definitely would’ve scolded him for had you been riding on the back of his bike with him, with your arms tight around his waist to hold on like you always did. He bobbed and weaved through cars, lane splitting between a few of them and he may have even ran a red, but he wasn’t paying enough attention to remember. All he could focus on was that you said you were “done”, whatever the hell that meant, and he was adamant on making sure you weren’t.

____

You didn’t know when you’d dozed off, three steady knocks, a fourth one after a pause hitting against your window, resulting in your eyes snapping open at the disruption. You sat up on your mattress, the ball of your hand rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you peered across the room. Once they adjusted in the darkness and you recognized the familiar, lanky body of your boyfriend standing outside on the fire escape, the events of just two hours ago played over in your mind like a record.

With a roll of your eyes, you huffed and swung your legs over the side of your bed, pushing yourself onto your feet. Miles watched as you sleepily trudged over to the window, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, head slightly lowered and tilted to the side, as if he were already apologizing before you’d even made it to him.

Hooking your fingers underneath the edge of your window, with a quiet grunt you pulled it up, effectively lifting the barrier between your bodies. You instantly felt your yearning for him come back full force, and wanted nothing more than to throw yourself into his arms, but you restrained. Your eyes met his, the cool night air breezing into your room, and his heart clenched. Somehow he was able to feel the coolness in your demeanor, yet the cold weather hadn’t bothered him at all.

He was the first to speak.

“Hola, Mami.” He sized you up once, taking notice of your eyes that were slightly puffy from crying.

His voice was like silk to your ears, alluring and confident, almost hypnotizing, and it aggravated you that you felt yourself gravitating towards him off two simple words.

“Why are you here, Miles?” You sighed, arms slapping at your sides in exasperation.

He looked slightly taken aback, chin lifting a bit as if you’d asked something completely outlandish.

“What you mean why I’m here? You my girl, shit, this my crib too.” He shrugged, so nonchalant, as if nothing had happened. You wondered if it had even been him texting you earlier.

“You left me on seen, remember? Stood me up, too?” Your head cocked to the side to match the attitude in your tone, brows raising at him. What excuse would he use this time?

He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling heavily before he spoke up again.

“I was… busy. Look, my bad, okay? You gon’ let me in or what? Ian come all the way over here to stand outside.” He demanded with a gesture towards the opening, his hazel eyes glinting in the moonlight and thawing the ice that’d been temporarily encased around your heart. There was the smallest hint of a smirk on his lips, because he already knew the answer.

Your lips pursed and you stepped to the side, a laggard arm stretched out beside you, silently granting him access to your room.

He stepped through the window frame and you closed it after him, his hands folding around the collar then the hem of his jacket as he adjusted it and turned towards you.

“I can’t keep doing this with you, Miles. It isn’t fair.” You mumbled, hating the way your voice split your words.

His head dipped to the side a bit as he took in your solemn expression and the way your gaze was cast to the floor, as if you were trying to contain your tears. He wasn’t the best at this, he knew that, and showing affection effectively really wasn’t his strong suit. He usually made it up to you by bringing you a few hundreds he’d made from a deal, paired with some roses he’d picked up on the way to your house at the last second— but you both knew paper and flowers wouldn’t fix it this time.

“I’m sorry, I mean it.” He said, reaching for your hand to bring you close and grateful when your eyes finally lifted to lock onto his, although seeing them tear-filled wrapped him in a deep-seated emotion he didn’t even want to acknowledge.

Miles rarely said he was sorry. If ever. Did he apologize? Yes, but it was usually a ‘my bad’ or a ‘my fault’, or some other term that’d get the point across without him have to use too much emotion. Hearing the words ‘I’m sorry’ from him was an anomaly, it happened once in a blue moon, so this time you knew he really meant it. In your heart you knew he meant it, but that didn’t stop the tear you’d been trying to keep at bay from rolling down your cheek.

His thumb caught the tear almost instantly, swiping it from the soft of your skin. It didn’t belong there, and he hated to be the reason why you were crying in the first place.

“Where do you disappear to, Miles?” You sniffled.

He sighed, glancing back over at the window. He considered telling you the truth, but he knew he couldn’t.

“I’m just tryna keep you safe, ma.”

“You always say that!” You squeaked, making sure to keep your voice down, you had technically snuck him in. You ripped your hand from his grasp, turning your face away from him as another tear fell. “Do you not trust me or something? Is that it?”

“Of course I trust you,” His eyebrows knit together at your question and he stole your hand from your side again.

“So why can’t you tell me?” You pleaded, eyes big and glossy.

“I just-“ He paused. “I can’t let you get hurt. The shit I do…” You watched as he hesitated, like even speaking about the subject pained him. “It ain’t good.” He swallowed, a hand coming up to cup your cheek. “And I’ll be damned if I put you in the middle of my shit. I love you… okay?” He moved closer to you, and when you turned from him once again he brought your face right back to his, this time with both his hands. He wasn’t going to let you go, and while Miles was rough around the edges, and seemingly devoid of any emotion other than anger or resentment for the world—he always handled you with care.

“I love you, Y/n, I put that on everything. I’ll burn this whole world down for you, you hear me? Don’t think I won’t.” He stared into your eyes longingly, intent on making sure you didn’t just hear every word, but that you understood them, too.

You couldn’t help but lean into his hand, your own coming up to hold at his wrist as you inhaled shakily and gave him a bleak nod.

That wasn’t enough for him. He needed to hear you say it.

“Do you understand?” He articulated his words, bringing his head down slightly to match your height a bit more.

“I understand.” You said softly, looking up at him through your lashes before your gaze fell to his lips. He took that as his sign, leaning forward and bringing you into a kiss.

You melted into him immediately, like you always did, eyes fluttering closed as your lips moved against his, and as his hands fell to your hips to pull you in closer, like they always did.

You broke the kiss for air, your hand resting on his bicep and your lips ghosting his as you spoke, as you shared the same breath. “I love you too…” You breathed, standing on your toes.

“Good,” You felt him grin before he pulled away, his hand pinching your chin to make you look at him. “Cause you not leaving me, ever. I can’t let no one else have you, Mami, you know that.” He cooed.

You felt heat flush your cheeks, a smile you couldn’t hide finally spreading on your face.

“Yeah yeah, I know.” You answered, chewing at your bottom lip. “Can you stay?” You whispered, eyes shifting between his hopefully as you awaited his answer.

“Ah…” He rubbed at the back of his neck, piping up again before you could get disappointed. “What about your moms?”

“She sleeps in on the weekends, you just gotta be outta here by nine. Please, pa?” You whined, already reaching for his hands.

He chuckled to himself and shook his head slightly, having to look away from the adorable look on your face. He tried to remain in denial of the fact that he was so deep in love with you he could hardly think sometimes, let alone say no, but he was failing. Miserably.

“Of course I’ll stay, mi amor.”

Your expression lit up, a toothy smile brightening your features as he let you lead him to your bed.

He made sure to remove his shoes before he laid down, settling on his back. He extended his arm out to you as he tucked the other behind his head, motioning for you to join him with his fingers.

You crawled into his open embrace, getting comfortable on top of his chest and nuzzling your head under his chin. You began to feel drowsy the second he wrapped his arm around you, a yawn leading your eyes to water. His hand slowly moved from where it was resting on your back, dipping beneath the hem of your shirt, the warmth of his skin against yours comforting to you. His large hand rubbed up and down the expanse of your back, the tips of his fingers drawing lines along your spine— you always fell asleep easier when he did that. You listened to the steady beating of his heart, fingers idly toying with the gold chain he kept around his neck.

“I’m really sorry I ain’t make it tonight. I know you prolly got all pretty for me n’shit… and I wish I got to see it, but that’s on me.” He grumbled. He’d beat himself up over this for a while.

“S’okay.” You say it is, but he knows it’s not. He knows better. “I missed you.” Your quiet voice murmured from below him as you scooted in impossibly closer.

His jaw tensed as he stared up at your ceiling, a deep breath from his diaphragm raising you a little bit with his chest, and lowering you as he released it. “I know.” His response was hushed, and as sleep continued creeping in, you wondered if you’d imagined it.

But when you felt a long, drawn-out kiss press to the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades, you knew it was real. The last thing you heard before you dozed off was his voice, mellow and gentle as he assured you.

“Ima do better, mama. I promise, for real this time.”

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"Stop that, Suna."

"Stop what? I'm not doing anything."

You read the same line of your notes for the fifth time before slowly closing your eyes and trying to deflect the gaze burning into the back of your head.

He sighs, loud and long. "Woe is me."

There's a rustle of linen as he rolls over.

"Ignored. Abandoned." His tone is flat. "The loneliest boyfriend in the world."

There's a quiet scratching sound and you can picture him dragging his fingers along the wall in boredom; you suppress a smile.

"Not even called my real name," he says in mock hopelessness.

He sighs louder. "It's like I don't even exist."

"Rintarō," you reply, trying to focus back on your notes again. "You're not helping."

More rustling and you feel a hand grabbing at the back of your chair.

"Kuroo needs this repor--" the word cuts off in a gasp as the chair is dragged away from your desk. "Rintarō!"

You hop out of the chair the moment before he reaches for you and turn around to see his ridiculously flexible and strong torso hanging over the side of the bed, eyes narrowed at you in frustration at your evasion.

"So you'd rather make Kuroo happy than take care of your boyfriend?" He tsks and shakes his head. "Not very considerate."

"I would be happy to," you try to pull your chair back but he's still got a firm grip on it and he's much stronger, "if my boyfriend," you quickly dance out of reach as he tries to grab you again, "would let me finish the work for my job. You know...So I don't get fired. Rintarō! Give me back my chair."

"Come get it," he replies with a sly smile.

"Damn you and your stupid athlete's body," you mutter and squat awkwardly at your desk.

"Funny...You said that last night, too, but with a much different tone."

"I'm ignoring you," you sing-song reply.

He huffs and there's a moment of quiet before the unmistakable sound of him climbing out of bed.

You move a moment too late.

"Rin--PUT ME DOWN!" You scramble for a grip on your desk but he's already swept you off the ground, carrying you to the bed. "I HAVE to finish this!"

"Relax." He rolls his eyes as he puts you in bed, goes right back to your desk, and brings your computer back, grabbing the lap desk and neatly arranging the workstation on your legs before climbing-crawling over you and wrapping his ridiculously large body around every bit of you he can. He tucks the blanket around you both. "There. See? Now we can both get what we want."

You don't try to hide your smile as you watch him settle down and snuggle into you, content.

"Stop that," he quips, eyes still closed.

In affectionate mocking you reply "stop what? I'm not doing anything."

He buries his face against your side muttering "you're lucky I love you."

With a grin you turn your attention back to your work. "Yeah,

I am."

Karma (pro!Bakugo Katsuki x You)

summary: a creep follows you at night, but your boyfriend is a pro hero on patrol.

word count: ~700

cw: villain following reader home, swearing

tags: angst/comfort, happy ending, established relationship

note: hi hi hi, i've been working on the todoroki x seamstress!reader series so i haven't had time to write big one-shots for other characters, but this is something that popped into my head. short and sweet, yk? i couldn't get the lyric "karma is my boyfriend, karma is a god" out of my mind, so thank you dr. taylor swift. hope you enjoy :)

likes/reblogs/feedback are always appreciated <3

“I have a boyfriend,” you said shortly over your shoulder, slightly increasing your pace as the man behind you attempted to keep up. As soon as you noticed the stranger tailing you from afar, you tapped the band around your wrist that you were gifted for your first anniversary. Short-short-short, long, long, long, short-short-short. SOS. 

The man had been following you for several blocks, now; you were sure of it. At first, he’d walked parallel to you on the other side of the street after you’d nabbed some last-minute groceries for hosting your boyfriend’s parents the next day. You could have asked him to pick up your order on his way home, but you had no clue when his shift ended. When you approached the neighborhood with your shared apartment, you cut a sharp turn to lead the man away from your home. He crossed the road, then, and blood pounded in your ears as you sensed him coming up behind you.

Spinning to face him, you glared at him with as much confidence as you could muster, your pointer finger poised on the trigger of your pepper spray. “Get away from me.” He stopped, putting several paces between you two. A quick glance at your surroundings indicated that there were no other civilians around, the darkness of the street shrouding the dangerous situation the man had forced you into. He must have realized that too, as after a moment he aggressively closed the distance between you two, arms extended and forcing you to stumble backward. But just as you pressed down on the trigger, the canister turned to mush in your fingers, and a malicious laugh escaped the man now within arm's distance of you. His eyes glowed an ominous shade of red that matched the energy radiating from his hands. His quirk had turned your pepper spray into liquid, and you were defenseless.

“No one’s coming to save you,” he sneered, and time slowed as a large hand reached for your throat. You were alone, but that didn’t matter. 

You knew his patrol routes. 

The instant before the villain made contact with your skin, a thundering rumble came from above you and a bright flash catapulted the man away from you. You knew Katsuki was only a few blocks away from you, but that didn’t stop you from panicking when there were no reassuring explosions coming your way. You let out a deep exhale, letting your shoulders relax as you leaned against the wall and tried to slow your racing heartbeat. Your eyes vaguely make out the formidable figure of your boyfriend, slamming your assailant into the concrete in one deafening blast. He pulls a set of handcuffs from his belt, clicking them onto the villain’s wrist before giving one more kick to his gut for good measure. When he was confident the man wouldn’t be conscious enough to run, Katsuki finally made his way to you. 

“Kats?”

“Hey, babe,” was all he said before he pulled you in, burying his head into your shoulder. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe out against his chest. “I’m good.” 

His eyes narrowed on the bag of groceries you’d dropped on the ground. “I could have picked that shit up in the morning.” 

“I was doing prep and we needed Brussels sprouts.” 

“Then I could have bought the damn Brussels sprouts in the morning.” You tried to look away from his piercing gaze, but two fingers under your chin were enough to turn you to face him. “As much as I know that you can handle yourself, you scared the shit out of me with your Morse Code thing. Thought you were gonna die or something.” A gloved hand gently caressed your face, and you leaned into his touch. “You know I’m not fucking good with words, I just–”

“I know,” you say, lightly resting your fingers against his lips to stop him. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to be any more stressed tomorrow.” He’s silent for a moment, your fingertips against his mouth, then– 

“What if I bit your fingers right now.” 

“Bakugo Katsuki.” He flashes a sharp grin at you, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead as you hear approaching sirens. He must have alerted law enforcement prior to saving you. “Thank you for coming to get me.” 

“Of course. I love you, fuckin’ Brussels sprouts determination and all.” 

You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes but unable to stop the smile from spreading on your face. “Walk me home?”

His hand slides into yours, lacing together with your fingers like a puzzle piece. “You know it.”

Morning Reflections

entry for @property-of-diavolo's Fuck//Love Roulette event!

I rolled: Love, The Morning After, and Lucifer as my (very much) willing participant. hehe. Enjoy!

Lucifer x gn!MC

Divider by firefly-graphics

Lucifer sighed as he began to stir awake. He stretched his arm to rest the back of his hand on his forehead. He took notice of how light he felt, his bed warm and a feeling of peace that made his heart flutter. He hasn’t felt this way in quite some time, and he desperately wanted to savor it. Just a few more moments… I don't want this feeling to end. He began to feel a slight movement next to him, and he lazily opened one eye. Slowly he turned his head to see MC sound asleep, tucked into the crook of his arm.

Lucifer smiled softly as reached over to run his fingers through their hair. It was soft, and his strong sense of smell could pick up the sweet aroma of their shampoo and the soap they used on their skin. Lucifer closed his eyes as he breathed the pleasant scent in. He could seriously get drunk off of it much like the Demonus he had consumed last night. He blushed as he remembered their evening together, and he was suddenly very aware of their nakedness under the covers. They had finally given into their passion for one another after one of Diavolo’s parties, bursting through Lucifer’s bedroom door with MC in his arms. He then spent hours dotting their skin with his kisses and gentle nibbles as they shared their hopefully first of many moments of intimacy together.

As he was lost in thought, MC began to stir. Lucifer watched as they shifted to lay their head on his chest. “Morning, Luci.” they murmured softly. Lucifer planted a kiss to the top of their head. “Good morning, my love. I trust that you slept well?” MC nodded slowly, a smile spreading across their face. They laid together in silence for a few more moments, enjoying each other's company and not quite ready to get up and face the day. Finally, Lucifer yawned and wrapped his arms around MC. “I think we should get into the shower. Does that sound good to you?” MC could practically melt into the warmth of his chest. His arms squeezed them and they nodded. “Yes please.” Lucifer planted a quick kiss to their forehead, and tossed the covers to the side. MC gazed lovingly at his nude body as he got up to head to his bathroom. They couldn’t believe that he was theirs. Lucifer smirked as he felt MC’s gaze resting on him. “I’ll get the shower going. Are you enjoying the view?” MC blushed, pulling the covers up to their face. “O-Of course, how couldn’t I? I mean, just look at you…” It was Lucifer’s turn to blush this time, but the familiar feeling of pride bloomed in his chest at the compliment. 

Lucifer disappeared into the bathroom and MC decided that they should follow. Slowly getting out of bed, they noticed how sore they had become overnight due to the evening they had shared together. MC walked over to Lucifer’s standing mirror and took in their reflection. Their hair was messy from just rolling out of bed, and their bare skin was littered with bite marks. A series of bruises were also beginning to form across their hips and thighs. MC’s face flushed and they felt the weight of Lucifer’s arms wrap around them from behind. “I couldn’t help myself darling. You were absolutely beautiful and I had to make you mine.” MC shivered as the eldest demon whispered in their ear, his voice low and husky with desire. “In fact, looking at you now just makes me want even more.” His crimson eyes stared back at you through his reflection in the mirror as he wandered his hands across their skin. “Luci, please, I’m cold!” MC whined playfully as they wiggled out of his grasp. Lucifer chuckled at the sight of the goosebumps that were now covering their exposed skin. He couldn’t help himself as he leaned in to plant a kiss firmly to MC’s lips. “Then follow me to the shower, I would be honored to be of assistance to you.”