#I take it as a compliment it means I have an old soul

[kutakunagasblog]

ALRIGHT IM POSTING HERE TOO

its my birthday! 👴🏻

First time I’ve drawn my wheelchair who cheered ? 🎉

[gay-dorito-dust]

How’d they act if you called them pretty upon getting catch looking at them…

Dan Heng: blushes. Hard.

He’s not use to someone complimenting his looks as it’s not something he finds important.

‘Are you really that shameless to say such things aloud?’ He’d say while avoiding eye contact with you.

Dan Heng would act as though you just shouted this out loud in front a hoard of people, even though you didn’t.

He’s awkward when it comes to taking compliments aimed his way but his reaction is too fucking cute to ignore and will warrant another compliment his way, which will only serve in making his face brunt redder.

‘Shut up, please.’ He’d plead as he covers a hand over your eyes, feeling as though they’ve stared deeply into his soul and actually see him as a whole person and more. ‘You talk too much about things you don’t understand the first thing of.’

He’s probably going to get teased by March 7th after this and it’ll be used as blackmail, probably.

Give him a moment to breath and calm down before complimenting on how pretty he is because he will combust from how flustered he is.

Argenti: would probably start a compliment war in all honesty because how can you say he’s pretty without admitting that you are also quite a sight for sore eyes.

If you were to compliment his hair, he’d resort back with how even the stars put on their best performance within your presence.

He’s got such a way with words that can easily leave one flustered without even trying. He’d even wax poetry on the spot about how the light catches your eyes in a way similar to that of a kaleidoscope, bright, vibrant and above all breathtaking.

Argenti doesn’t hold back, will not hold back, and will not back down from letting you know just how ethereal you look to him.

He can do this all day, you however could not do this all day seeing how this man has unlimited ammunition when it came to complimenting the beauty of pretty much everything.

(I mean this is the same dude who complimented a plant. 🪴 I bet that plant blushed, we just didn’t see it bc who wouldn’t blush if a chivalrous red head complimented them?)

Welt: smiles softly as a light blush coated his cheeks.

He’s well kept for someone who’s in his 60/70/80’s And he deserves to be told as such!

(all I know is that he’s grandpa age from other ppl)

So when you do compliment him and call him pretty, this old man is going to thank you for such kind words and probably give you head pats as a reward.

He appreciates a kind compliment now and then.

‘Why thank you, I try my best to keep in good shape if I’m meant to keep up with all of you.’ He would say in response followed by a chuckle.

Welt is young at heart and knows that his body isn’t how it once was but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a restless spirit within an old man’s body. So when you compliment him, it only makes him feel good and warm on the inside.

Blade: doesn’t know how to take compliments.

He’s not use to it and doesn’t know how to react to it other than saying something along the lines of;

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘Flattery will get you nowhere.’

Or just straight up. ‘No.’

And all the while his face is like this: 😐 or this 😒

It’s never one or the other, blade just doesn’t view himself worth the compliment, when the only things about him that people see most is that he’s a bad dude in a bad group doing bad things.

He doesn’t see why you’re wasting a kind, genuine compliment on someone whose entire body is riddled in ugly scars.

Blade is the type of person where you’d have to prove that your compliment is genuine or else he just won’t believe it.

Sampo: his ego is boosted to the max.

Well done you’ve made him even more insufferable.

He will smile that Cheshire smile of his and ask to hear what else about him you find appealing besides his pretty face.

You: your exposed hips, you slut-

However behind his cocky persona, he’s a giggly bitch who’s mentally kicking his feet and writing this interaction in his bubblegum pink diary with a glitter pen.

Sampo is deeply invested in what you thought about the rest of him but won’t let it show as he would consider it ‘out of character’ for himself. So he’ll continue to act the cocky and confident fool like he always does.

He’ll be the type to tease you about potentially killing him while internally screaming himself and telling other people that you find him pretty, much to your embarrassment.

‘You see them over there? Yeah they called ol’ Sampo pretty!’ He’d say to a random person while pointing towards you as you try to hide yourself behind a trash can…only for the trash can to grow arms and legs and walk off elsewhere.

Why were the arms and legs buff as fuck? What was their workout routine? You must know. now.

Sunday: takes the compliment in kind.

He looks like the type to get called handsome or pretty on the daily, so it’s nothing new to him but he’ll take the compliment nonetheless.

He’s probably the most calm out of the bunch when being called pretty, besides from maybe Welt.

He’s not bashful, he’s not overtly arrogant and he’s not in denial about it either. He just takes the compliment as it is and goes on about his day like any other.

Though people would take note on how he’s smiling brighter than usual. Your compliment would stay with him the entire day, as it serves as a reminder of his place within your heart and he’s secretly scheming on ways on how to stay within your heart.

Permanently.

[cafterdark]

"What do you mean I'm being transferred!" You shout to your manager

"My supervisor has requested that you be transferred to the branch closer to her for more... direct communication." He says. His eyes are wide, a small tremor takes over his right hand. For a former Army NCO to be that scared, she must be something.

"Have I done anything wrong?" You say.

"No, in fact you've been the best worker here. That's why she wants you."

You pinch your nose. "Is there anyway out of this?"

"I'm afraid she's made it exceptionally clear that there isn't."

"Fine. What's the address."

"I'll write it down."

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

You arrive at the office the next morning. The first leaves on the trees are turning red. It's luckily a shorter commute than your old office, but you're still pissed. You had climbed up from the pit of internships into a cozy position and office. You were the first trans, no scratch that, woman to get into management. This was bullshit.

You step in. The front desk is empty. You sit down and wait. And wait. And wait. Finally, a blonde worker passes by. The first thing you notice is that her outfit is less than professional. She wears a skirt that barely goes below her legs. Her stockings hug her tights very tight. Her blouse is basically open, showing off her admittedly very beautiful tits in a pair of lingerie. If you weren't so pissed you'd be turned on. You're glad you wore slacks today.

"Hey," You call to her. "Do you know where..." You check the slip of paper in your hand. "Miss Maverne's office is?"

The woman looks at you. Her make up is ruined, lipstick smudged, mascara spilling down her face. Her hair is messy. You could swear that you can see the outlines of hands on the sides of her face. Her pupils eclipse her blue eyes. She looks as if she barely knew where she was. After a long pause of blank stares at you, she says, "Do you mean Mistress?"

"Uh..." You're paralyzed by the absurdity of the situation. Have you stumbled onto a porn set by accident?

After a long minute of the girl thinking where you could almost hear the AOL noises playing in her head, she perks up and says, "Oh, you must be new here! I'll take you to Mistress!"

Her hand shooks out and drags you through a set of doors and into the office. You look around. You see many workers with the same blown out eyes, dazed looks, and slutty office wear around you. All women. One of them is drooling at their desk while colors flash on their computer. You wonder what the hell is going on here. You arrive at a large set of doors. "Here she is!"

A secretary sits at a desk next to the doors. She's wearing what couldn't even be charitably called an outfit. Just a few strips of cloth prevent her from being fully nude. On the exposed parts are very visible hickies.

"I brought a new recruit for Mistress!" The blonde hair girl says

The secretary pouts "But Mistress isn't accepting anyone till..."

"That's quite alright secretary, thank you." A woman's voice says. You look to your right, then up. The woman is at least 6'2", and she's wearing heels. Her towering over you is an understatement. She is wearing the only proper work outfit of slacks, a blouse, and jacket. Still, there is an aura of lust around her, like she could wear anything and still look sexy in it. Two grey eyes pierce into your soul. She grins.

"You're both very good girls, you can leave now" She says. The two girls shutter and wander off. "Now, Miss Claire Hall, would you please step into my office."

You're led in and sit down in a very comfortable chair. Miss Maverne continues to look into your very soul and says

"You're probably wondering why you're here right now."

"Yeah I am, what the fuck is this?"

"This is your new office for the foreseeable future. I picked you because you're special. It's not often a woman rises the ranks of this business."

"Thanks?"

"Good Girl."

A blush strikes your cheeks. You're really glad you wore slacks today. That compliment shouldn't have hit that hard.

"Now did your old boss give you any information about your new position?"

"N...no" you stutter out, still in minor shock from the compliment. "Just the address and your name."

"Wonderful, well, you noticed that the front desk was empty right?"

"Yeah?"

"You'll be working as the receptionist there."

"What!" The rage breaks through your flustered mind like a hammer. "May I remind you that I have years of experience in programming, administration, planning, and managing under my belt?"

"So does every other worker here. You might've been a big fish in a little pond there, but here you're puny, and you'll start where you deserve." She stands up, and you can't help but internalize her words a small bit. Still your indignation burns it.

"I'm leaving. I don't deserve this humiliation." You get up and walk to the door.

"Stop." You freeze stiff.

"Walk back." You walk back.

"Sit and stare into my eyes." You sit back down into the extremely comfortable chair and stare up into her eyes. They looked grey before but now hints of green and blue scatter in. You can't help but dive into them, trying to discover their true color. It feels like you're sinking deeper and deeper into an ocean of warm homey

"Aren't my eyes pretty?" She says.

"Yuh." The words don't move right and come out wrong.

"Don't you want to keep having the privilege to stare into my eyes?" Her voice is so beautiful.

This time the words don't even come out, you just nod.

She pulls out a contract and pen. "Then sign this."

You grab the pen but it falls out of your hand. "Oops! Let me help." She says in that musical voice. She takes the pen and places it in your hand, then pulls it to the paper. She guides it into a passable signature, then smiles.

"Good Girl." You shutter.

"Right, so first things first, your breast enhancement surgery is next week."

Sanity floats up above the honey ocean. "What?"

"And that outfit is not approved. At least the four top buttons of your blouse must be unbuttoned. Pants are not allowed, only skirts that are above the mid thigh."

"Excuse me?"

"It's all in your contract."

"I didn't sign this!"

"Is that not in fact your signature on the paper?"

You look down and see a perfect replica of your signature. Fury boils in you.

"Fuck that! I'm leaving!" You get up.

"Where are you going Miss Hall?"

"Escaping this sex cult."

"Miss Hall, this is your 90 day review."

"What do you mean, I've only been here for..." You look out the window, it's snowing. You look down at your new pair of tits. Your blouse barely holds them. A cold breeze tickle your thighs. "What have you done to me?"

"Nothing." She says. "Now sit and listen." You crumble back into your chair.

"Now, both staff and guests have highly rated your performance with them in the last 90 days. You've really proven to be a capable fit for your position."

You feel heat building up in you and you don't know why.

"Good Girl." She says. Those two words hit like a truck. You almost moan. She smiles. She's smiling... about you! Excitement flutters in your chest. Wait.

"Something's wrong."

"What's wrong, Ms Cumdump?" Mistress says "Is it something you'd like to bring up for your 6 month review?"

"That name for a start, that's not my name."

Mistress sighs. "This again... Then what name would it be?"

"You know what it is it's..." You pause. Why can't you remember your name? You dig in deep but find nothing. Why can't you remember your name?

"Don't overwork that pathetic little brain of yours sweety." Mistress says. "Just check your name tag."

Oh right! It's that easy. Mistress is so smart. You look down and see your uniform. Lingerie with the required derogatory text sharpied across your body. You pull up your lanyard and read "Hypnoslut Cumdump, Receptionist and Fucktoy."

Ah, it was that easy. Wait, weren't you just in a blouse? You look up to Mistress. God she's so tall when you're on your knees. The hot late summer air sticks to your nude body. It's not amazing but receptionists aren't allowed to wear clothes and the rules are the rules. You stare into Mistress's pretty eyes and she stands and looks down at you. Mistress says

"Is there anything you want to tell me before we begin your first year performance test, Ms Cumdump?"

You try to think of what you were going to say. But your brain is soooooooooo empty that you can't remember. Probably about how beautiful she is. Yeah, that's it.

"You're sooooooooo pretty Mistress." You say.

She smiles. "Thank you, now..." She unzips her slacks and pulls out her massive cock. You're already drooling. She stands there, taunting you with it, before saying "Begin."

You take the cock into your mouth and begin worshiping it like a good fucktoy does. You hit the spot you know she's sensitive to. Mistress shutters and grabs your hair. "Good Girl." She says. You could've cum in the spot to those words if only she gave you permission. Before you could even question it, she pulls you in, and you're lost to your work.

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

Inspired by @anarqueeen :)

[kaivenom]

Hi! I love the way you write characters sm! I wanted to ask if you could do some sfw and nsfw headcanons for mihawk ❤️ (thusis my first request ever so i have NO idea how to make one 😩)

Dating Dracule Mihawk HCS

A/N: Well, thanks for the compliment and for letting me be your first request. Here are your headcannonns (i think it got long, i really like this man)

Masterlist

SFW

I think the reason you both met is becuase an argument: with you and other people or with him and you, physical or ethical it doesn't matter.

The thing is that your spirit makes him seem you worthy for a chat.

That chat transformed in ocasional meet ups and then in exchanging den den mushis.

If you confess first, he will just nod and kiss you slowly and gently.

If he confesses first, he will try to do it like the old way: setting up a date, buying flowers and/or chocolate and ask you formaly.

But that would take sometime cause he knows he is a wanted men, even if he is powerfull he knows that life isn't for everyone.

It doesn't matter if you are a pirate, a marine or just a simple villager, at first your relationship will be long distance.

He will ask you to move in with him eventually, because he travels a lot and plus he lives in a castle (i have a whole post about him asking you to move on, check it out) so, after staying multiple times at your places, he decides that you should be in his.

He is a very loyal and capable lover, he knows you like the palm of his hand, somehow.

He may not be the biggest on comunication but he is an excelent listener, even if you didn't think of it at first. Something you said months ago, check, a gift you wanted and you even forgot, check.

He is a big yes on gifts and little details, he lefts them all over the castle for you to find.

He loves your noise, i mean, he is a very silent and calm person but you bring a whole new world to him and that makes him love you, even if he didn't join you in your noise he likes to watch it.

He won't be a lot into iniciating PDA but he won't complain if you do it. In fact, you were nervous at first about him not iniciating it but when you learned that, you just sit on his lap and hug him while he lays his hand on your back.

His kisses aren't savage or animalistic, they are more studied and deep. If he kisses you one time in a heated moment, he will leave you breathless, like he has kissed your soul.

Things with Mihawk take time and comunication, even if it's non-verbal comunication, but it's completely worth it.

His favourite nicknames for you while probably be just to formal or traditional: my love, my partner, my pair, my husband/wife. He is a man of manners, but a little possesive too.

Speaking of jealousy, he says he isn't, he says that you are a grown adult and you can do what you want. But in reality, he can get a little frustated, speacially if it's Buggy or Crocodile.

Crocodile is as cold as him but it's a little more sarcastic and Buggy it's "noisy" so you laugh a lot with him, and that makes him a little mad because you don't laugh like that with him.

You say to him "it doesn't matter, i prefer the silence with you" and he just wants to marry you right there.

Marriage it's just something that doesn't cross his mind a lot. You are his partner and you are happy with him, you both live in a castle, etc but,

If you value marriage he will propose to you. The ring, the ceremony and all the honey moon stuff, but when you came back everything will be the same.

Except that you are now officially his partner and if you are happy with that then he is.

From time to time you try to make him laugh with bad jokes, you even started to research about every kind of humour and started doing experiments... at the end he laughed about some stupid thing his discipule Zoro did with his crew.

You just love his laugh so you are always present when he is reading the news from that moment.

NSFW

He isn't very comunicative thru words and getting to know his likes with his body language it's really difficult.

So, you are very nervous about getting intimate with him, you don't know if he is even interested in that.

One day he just sees you getting lost on your thoughts and asks you about it, you tell him about your concerns about it and he just say "hum".

You couldn't believe how he was so bold about it, and you got even a little mad.

Then, a couple of hours later you were doing some dishes and he approached you from behind. His hands roaming your body and his mouth leaving wet kisses on your neck. You were really flustered and he just pressed himself against you, with his hard on.

Since that moment, you started to get more and more the little details which demostrate his need for you.

His eyes darkening in a strange way, like when he goes into battle, it makes your skin get goosebumps; his touches staying a little longer or a little tougher on you; his abruptly necesity to have you next to him all afternoon; how he spreads his legs instead of keeping his perfect pose.

He doesn't do any sound in bed at first. One day you had to aproach him about it and then he started to make some noise... mostly grunts, groans and gasps.

Like i mentioned on the top, his kisses are deep, all his afection his deep.

Make up sessions with him makes you breathless, he couldn't kiss you as much as past lovers but the sensation it's the triple.

You swear you can just come with his touches and kisses. Picture yourself with your face pressed against a wall while he kisses your neck with intensity and dry humps you with his fingers pressing into your erogenous areas with precision.

Definitely an ass men, he will make you walk in front of him sometimes just to check you ass. *with respect*

In fact, your ass is the only thing that makes him a pervert. He will come home from a long journey and just lay on the bed placing his head on your ass... which can later lead to other things.

I think he is a grower and that means you were surprised the first time you both do the deed, but being so good with his fingers and mouth makes him good with his dick too.

In reality he prefers to pleasure you with his tongue and hands than his dick. I picture him seeing sex as a form for people to use each other. He knows he can be a men a little difficult so he wants to pleasure you as much as he can with making you feel validated.

Sir or Mister kink, Dom/sub dinamics, a little sword and blood kink (never hurting you in reality) and even a little roleplay but never degradation or humilliating kink.

He likes to see your face and expresion so missionary, cowgirl or any other position with your eyes meeting is good for him.

He says he likes the bedroom but he is the owner of a whole island sooo he may sometimes just have a slip and take things out of the chambers (until Perona came)

[shirefantasies]

Hello! Could u do the fellowship with a shy/introverted character? Tyty

I chose to do shy!reader hope thats ok hehe~

How The Fellowship of the Ring Treat You When You’re Shy

Aragorn

✧ Aragorn has been around just about every manner of folk; from that and years in nature he has developed a keen sense of others. Thus he recognizes that you don’t particularly favor attention at once and honors that.

✧ For example, you are clearly cold one night, but the way your feet shift toward Gandalf and your eyes dart as you toss and turn suggest discomfort addressing the wizard. Thus, Aragorn approaches him for you to ask for the spare blanket, draping it over you with a kind smile. The look in your eyes of gratitude and awe brings a modest flush of joy to the ranger’s heart and expression.

✧ Aragorn, too, enjoys taking some time to himself, so you find each other sharing watches in easy silence, just watching the stars together.

✧ When he sees a particular look in your eyes, though, a certain unease or exhaustion swimming therein, Aragorn reaches over, gently taking your hand and bringing a shy smile to your lips.

✧ You are the first person he seeks after danger strikes, calling your name or asking where you are until you are accounted for, when you see his body and expression finally relax again.

Legolas

✧ His demeanor complements yours, neither of you loud contributors to conversation or even the first to speak at all. As a result he tends to stick by you and you by him, sharing looks like conversation.

✧ The others find this a bit disconcerting, sure. “Look, there they go again! They’re doing it! What secrets are you filling the poor soul’s head with now, pointy-ear?” Then you and Legolas are smiling to each other, suppressing laughter at the dwarf Gimli’s outburst; you notice Aragorn doing the same. Perhaps you do fit in with this group after all.

✧ Legolas finds himself seeking to bolster your confidence, offering compliments wherever he can. “You did not tell me you could shoot! I daresay you have some skill with my bow!” He looks at you with pride and maybe something else glowing in his eyes and his smile, especially at the way you smile down toward your feet, unsure what to say.

✧ It is actually Legolas who speaks up for you when others doubt you, telling them that just because you are shy does not mean you lack bravery.

✧ The flush of bashfulness you feel across your face only increases when Legolas adopts his habit of running a soothing hand up and down your back when you get embarrassed.

Boromir

✧ “So this is the one Lord Elrond insisted on joining the journey! What secrets might you be hiding?” The other man, not the one dubbed Isildur’s heir but the man of Gondor, Boromir, had taken to teasing you and you weren’t sure how you felt. On the one hand, you liked his looks and he was the most welcoming in a sense, but on the other you were used to avoiding attention, so what were you to say to him?

✧ Sparring is his icebreaker, the proverbial olive branch that ends up connecting you both even as it brings up his old jokes. Combat skills, after all, being the lord of Rivendell’s deciding factor in your rounding out the fellowship to ten. The first time your instincts kicked in and you had Boromir pinned to the ground with great haste, he burst into laughter, saying that he has found your secret and now there is no hiding from him!

✧ No hiding in other senses as well, for he will take a seat by your side at night, asking if you have any memories of your home you’d like to share. Some nights you do not wish to speak, asking instead to hear of Gondor, and you know Boromir is happy to oblige, though his brother seems to be the only family member he wishes to speak of.

✧ The boldest among the fellowship, if Boromir catches your downward glances he will reach over and tilt your chin up, telling you not to hide your fair gaze away.

✧ Similarly, he takes up the habit of pushing back your hair or tucking it behind your ear if it is long enough as well as lowering your hood, little gestures to grant him sight of the face you try to hide once more.

Gimli

✧ Unbeknownst to you, the fellowship’s resident dwarf has taken it upon himself to bring you cheer again, seeing your quiet and withdrawn demeanor and mistaking it for melancholy. He is at your side at once telling you funny stories and smiling proud as if he’s won a golden trophy when he makes you laugh!

✧ Misguided attempts at making you feel appreciated occur at times, like the time he told everyone to stop what they were doing and look at you, for you had something to say, causing you to shrink back and flush in surprise.

✧ Once he realizes that your troubles are nothing to do with sadness or feeling like an outsider, Gimli instead takes you under his wing to bring your confidence back up! “This game is an old dwarven favorite. I think you will do great at it- indeed, you might be the only worthy competition in this whole lot! Come on, then!”

✧ He pulls out a stone from some fold of his outfit one day. “You see this? This reminds me of you,” he says, holding up the round, dark rock, “you must think it just an ordinary piece of stone, no?” At that, you nod, for is it not? Indeed it isn’t, for the moment your head moves he throws it against the rock he stands upon and cracks it in two, revealing a hollow of beautiful glistening crystals inside. “Well, then you would be mistaken, for there is far more than meets the eye! That is what I like about you, you know. I hope you do, too.”

✧ As if that didn’t have enough heat creeping to your face, from that night in Gimli pitches his bedroll right next to yours and folds himself up right by you quite protectively.

Frodo

✧ Frodo can be shy, too, so when you are faced with each other it is all bashful smiles and stolen glances!

✧ The best companion for a companionable silence, Frodo will sit by your side without any interruptions, the sound of breathing and the warm touch of his arm brushing against yours all the sensation you need to lighten the weights upon you.

✧ Studious as he is, Frodo does find himself asking you questions fairly often though, questions about the meanings of songs he catches you singing for example. Warmth rising to your cheeks, you first reply admitting your lack of awareness anyone could hear you. “Don’t worry, it is quite nice to hear song again,” Frodo tells you with a smile.

✧ Gets annoyed with any of the others if they try to push you to speak or do things you are not comfortable with, reminding them that you are ten, are you not, and anyone else could do it. You can’t help smiling even as you hide your face because you have never seen Frodo like this.

✧ You muse aloud about the ring one day, what little it might do or say to someone who prefers to keep hidden, but Frodo shuts down such talk immediately. “I will not have your heart changed for anything,” he tells you, head falling to your shoulder, “especially not on my account.”

Sam

✧ “Are the others getting to you? Don’t be afraid to tell them to bugger off.” This comment, delivered with a cheeky smile, makes you laugh, not expecting a bit of fire in the sweet hobbit who had introduced himself right away. He doesn’t mind that you keep to yourself, though.

✧ It’s just that sometimes he doesn’t let you. It’s healthier to have the company anyway, you know, such is just difficult for you to seek for yourself. Sam makes it easy in that way, always ending up where you are with a smile and an offer of food or water.

✧ “Mr. Bilbo always told me grand stories when I couldn’t say much- would you like to hear one of them? It’s my favorite!” “Of course I would, Sam. I would like that very much.”

✧ Sam stands in front of you in every fight, sometimes even extending an arm across you as if daring your possible enemy to even try. Every single time it warms your heart to see the determination in his eyes, even if you can fight for yourself.

✧ “You’re like a sunflower. Once you turn round to face the sun, everyone can see how lovely that smile is!”

Merry

✧ "Hello," the hobbit pops up in your line of vision, having sidled over to where you sat, "I don't believe we've met. Only saw you the once. At the council. My name is Meriadoc Brandybuck. Merry for short. What's your name?" It is a marvel to you how easily conversation comes to Merry. With a small smile, you introduce yourself, nervously running a hand over your hair. "That's a nice name. Don't be so afraid, all right? Lord Elrond believed in you. Quite an honor, that. And we'll all be right here with you."

✧ Always asking for your say, if you are alright with him keeping you company or sitting at your side until the day you tell him there is no need, he is always welcome.

✧ He notices the way you tend to fidget nervously, hands wringing or twisting the end of your sleeve, so one day he presents you with a little string of beads. “In case your hands ever want company,” he explains, blue eyes earnest as ever, “they’re from the Shire.” As if the gift was not meaningful enough as it was! You forget your shyness just long enough to wrap your arms around him, and when you pull away the wide, dreamy smile on his face makes the gesture well worth it.

✧ Tells you all the best stories of Shire mischief, teasing that had you been there, one look from those eyes of yours would have gotten you out of trouble!

✧ You’re the first one Merry looks to when a song starts up, but he seems to think better of it after extending his hand, asking if you’re be alright with a dance.

Pippin

✧ Discrimination is not in Pippin's vocabulary, so when he sees you hanging back from the rest of the fellowship, he simply approaches you so you know you're included, too!

✧ From that moment on, Pippin becomes your comfort person. Always sitting by your side at the fire, no one else. The only one you’ll speak to when you are upset.

✧ Looks down at the ground too when you get really shy, thinking there’s something there before he realizes a little late.

✧ Whenever he and Merry get to singing, Pippin will offer you his hand, inviting you to dance and smiling at your reluctant but pleased face. If you are too shy to dance with others watching, then Pippin will simply take up his song only to find you later when there are no others, and no matter the terrain take you in his arms for a proper whirl...and maybe something slower, too.

✧ Feeds you first whenever it is his turn to pass out meals, sneaking you a little extra because he knows you will not be comfortable asking for more. Always dishes you up with a wink because of it!

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 | Message/Reply/Ask to join 🥰

[moo-blogging]

some stuff about canon levi confessing? I picture he wouldn’t confess in words or something like that, but i’d really like to hear what you think. loved the pda story about him btw. thank u so much

Canon Levi is seen as cold, quiet, stoic, but very observant and caring toward others when you least expected it.

Nobody could tell that the infamously strict Captain Levi was in love. I mean, who had the guts to stare at his face as his eyes lingered on you slightly longer as you marched past him, or questioned that the Captain insisted you to make tea for the entire team and gave minimal comments on how you could improve your tea brewing skills. Not a single living soul saw Captain Levi in his office rehearsing the conversation he wanted to have with you before he sent Eren to get you. But in the end, he only asked you to carry the reports to Commander Erwin's office because he stuttered.

Levi didn't care about what he was wearing. He had his uniform jacket on most of the time anyway. But it caught his eyes whenever you wore a new shirt or a pair of new pants. His brows frowned when other guy cadets complimented your new clothes, but he couldn't bring himself to tell you you looked better in the old light blue shirt you got months ago.

So he did what he did best. He trained you hard. Only when you were dangling on the maneuver gear with your legs lifted from the ground, Levi could bark orders to you freely.

Go faster! Please survive.

Take sharp turns, pull back your strings and push yourself with the gas pressure! Come back with me.

Make sure you check your gas level before you get on your horse. Come back to me. Please.

Levi studied your postures, your fighting habits, and your careless mistakes. His tongue spitted the most venomous words, but his eyes pouring the deepest worries and concerns he had for you.

No, Levi couldn't say those words to you. He couldn't tell you how much he wanted to touch your skin, or hold your hands, or pull you into his arms. But when the nights got extra difficult to go through alone, Levi sat with you in silence. The fire crackling softly. Your mind somewhere else in the skies. Your body felt too heavy to move. Levi sat there, quietly replacing cold tea with warm ones, waiting patiently for you to drink it. And when you did, the warm tea flowed through your chest, and you exhaled deeply. Your shoulders finally dropped and you were ready to take on another day. Levi's heart eased too. How could you realise that he too held a breath for so long and let it go the moment you let yours go too? You wouldn't see how his brows softened when you told him you felt better and his tea soothed your soul. He said "clean up the table before breakfast, brat" but he meant "don't go where i can't follow".

It wasn't until Eren came back and awakened all the titans in the wall, Paradise Island went into a chaotic state. The Yeagerists took over the military HQ and declared that Hange and Levi had died. Heartbroken and shocked from the news, you hid away as they celebrated the beginning of a new era. You wandered into Levi's office, quietly going through his things before those untamed young cadets destroy it for no reason.

Beneath a stack of death certificates of the cadets who used to be in the same tea with Levi, you found a photograph you took in Marley. It was a group photo that Hange insisted on getting. But you noticed that there was a heart shaped hole on where your face was supposed to be. And then it hit you. Levi kept you in a locket and brought it with him to war.

Tears streamed down your face. Your heart ached and you struggled to breath. Grabbing on the edges of the photograph, you blinked the tears away, trying your best to look at Levi in the photograph. His brows were not frown, he seemed relaxed, like he had planned to keep you in the locket all this while. As if he was saying, "you found my secret, brat."

.

When it was all over, and the night sky was bright with stars, you sat next to Levi with his tea brewing by the side. Levi pulled the locket from his breast pocket and gently dropped it in your palm. You knew what was inside, but you were still surprised to see your face untouched even touch the locket was dented. Stuttering, Levi asked "may I..?" He needed to ask. He was a gentleman. "Yes," you needed to tell him because he deserved a clear confirmation. He rested his rough palm on yours. You leaned against his shoulder, and you both exhaled in relief.

The stars had finally aligned.

[goldessia]

first love!reader x second love!megumi

it was always apparent a part of megumi’s heart would belong to his first love. i mean, anyone’s would, right? the first person you love will remain in your heart forever.

but, sometimes, it was hard.

megumi was my first love. is, my first love. the first person i let touch my soul, my heart, and my body. i was wholly, rawly, his.

but, a year into dating, things started to get hard.

a few of megumi’s friends from his old friend-group from his high-school touched base with him. his first love was apart of that group, but they told him they’d long stopped contacting her a while ago.

so, he agreed to meet up with them, both as a chance for his old friends to meet me, and to catch up with them.

an evening dinner is what we agreed on.

“do you think i should wear something fancy?”

“huh?” megumi says, still tired from his nap. “well, do you want to?”

“if you will, i will.” i shrug, holding up my black dress.

i hear the ruffle of our bed, footsteps behind me, and then i feel the warmth of his hands on my stomach as he hugs me. he breathes me in, resting his head on my shoulder.

“i don’t mind. you’ll look beautiful, anyways.” he smiles, presses a kiss to my cheek, and moves toward the bathroom to freshen up.

despite us being together for over a year, his compliments still make me flustered and nervous. i blush, smiling, and opt for jeans and a shirt instead of the dress.

it was just a dinner with friends, right?

when we arrived, i realized i made the wrong decision. apparently, over the years his friends got fancy jobs and therefore were wealthy, and opted for an extremely over-the-top fancy restaurant.

i groan as i step out the car, megumi closing the door behind me after he had opened it.

“this is where we’re eating for a casual let’s-catch-up-dinner?” i frown.

“itadori got some cash, i guess..” he shrugs, “he said he was paying for our meals, so i didn’t think it was very fancy.”

“i’m wearing jeans!” i huff, “they’re going to think i’m some hood-rat you picked up off the street.”

megumi laughs.

“don’t laugh at me!”

he slings an arm around my waist, urging me forward. “they’ll love you. you don’t have to worry.” he places a kiss on my temple, “they’re good people.”

“okay..” i say hesitantly, not really taking in his words.

we step into the restaurant, quickly finding the table as the pink-haired boy, itadori, i presumed, yelled megumi’s name.

“fushiguro!” he yells, the restaurant quieting down to see the commotion, “over here!”

megumi rubs his temples, and cocks his head toward the table. i pick at my fingernails, nervous to walk toward them.

i was happy to see they weren’t wearing any fancy suits or dresses. itadori was wearing sweatpants. nobara was wearing the same as i, jeans and a shirt.

“fushiguro, i see you’re not gray yet.” nobara looks to me, and her eyes widen. “and you have a pretty girlfriend!” she exclaims, “you must be y/n.”

“yeah, uh.. how’d you know?”

“fushiguro told us all about you. the love of my life, he said!”

megumi smiles. i admire the way he isn’t ashamed as he says, “that she is.”

“a few more people are coming.” itadori exclaims as we slide into the booth, “friends of friends, and all that.”

his voice has a certain edge to it, as if he were hiding something.

“that’s fine.” megumi says, “so, what about you, itadori? found yourself a girlfriend, yet?”

“oh, please! nobody would be able to handle itadori. he’s too much.” nobara waves her hand, taking a sip of her wine.

“rude!”

thirty minutes later, the others from his old friend group arrive. gojo and his wife, and a few other of megumi’s teachers flow into the restaurant, followed by—

my heart catches in my throat. silence fills the table.

megumi stiffens beside me. “what is she doing here?” he nearly fumes, a hand wrapping tight around my waist.

itadori chockes on his beer, “oh! uh, um…” he stutters.

“did you know she was coming?” megumi asks, his voice tense, eyes ripping away from her and toward itadori.

“.. would you be mad if i said yes?”

“itadori, i will—“

“megumi!” a voice exclaims. there she was, in her pretty red dress, even more beautiful face and brunette hair. she was an exchange student in their second year. they dated for three years before they broke up.

i feel my heart sink. i look at megumi, and his whole face is tense. his pupils are small, his lips opened in shock. after all, he hadn’t seen her in years. he quickly closes them.

“call me fushiguro.” he says coldly, sparing me a glance. for a second, his eyes soften, his pupils relax. but still, his whole body was tense.

“no need to be so cold to me.” she scoffs, before her eyes turn to me. her eyes scan over me, almost in disgust. i hear her whisper, “this is my replacement?”

she sits across from me, and i feel.. i feel like shit.

he never told me she was so beautiful.

for the rest of the dinner, megumi is silent. i try to place my hand in his, but he pulls it away, shaking his head and looking out the window.

i frown.

i feel tears prickle on my eyes, and god save me if i cried in front of her.

“oh my god, and y/n—“ itadori rambles. he was telling me a story of when they were young.

“you’ll have to excuse me.” i cut him off, a small crack in my voice.

“oh. is everything okay?”

“yeah.” i nod, “i just need to use the washroom.”

i give a reassuring smile as i slide out the booth. megumi’s hand catches my wrist, and he gives me a confused look.

i say nothing and slide my hand away from him, walking toward the door.

i felt like my chest was going to explode; like my heart was going to explode. the second i open the front door and fresh air catches in my lungs, i..

i break.

a tear slides down my cheek, and i am quick to wipe it away. pretty much all the customers had gone away, as it was nearing to close time.

fuck. fuckfuckfuck.

it shouldn’t hurt this bad— why does it hurt this bad? he said he’d gotten over her, that he had no feelings, but it’s so so obvious that part of him still does.

i nearly slide down the wall when i hear a ping from my phone, forcing me back into reality.

megumi. 💍

are you okay?

i stare at the message. i go to type, but everything is blurry, and my hands are shaking. i shut my phone off, and crumble.

a minute later, i hear the chime of the door opening.

“y/n?”

the voice that used to be comforting fills my ears. i turn my head away, shaking my head.

“y/n, talk to me.”

his voice sounds nothing more than an echo. i feel his hands, his warm hands, slide around my face as he kneels next to me, turning my head to look at him.

“oh, baby.” he whispers. i want to push away, i should. but, his touch brings me comfort, he brings me comfort, even if he is the source of my current misery.

“what’s wrong?” he says in my ear, a hand brushing over my back. “talk to me.”

i finally find enough will to push him away. his face shows so much hurt, so much confusion.

“you still love her, don’t you?” my hoarse, tired voice cuts through the night.

“wha.. i, no, no, i don’t love her!” he is quick to defend himself. “our relationship ended years ago. all feeling toward her is gone.”

“that’s a lie. you’re lying.” i say as i stand. i push his hand away that tries to brush the tear off my cheek. “be honest with me here.”

“i am, i am.” he ushers. he raised his hand once more, but hesitated. “i.. you can’t just.. expect me to forget everything that happened between me and her.”

“so i’m right. you still love her.”

he stutters. “i don’t.. i don’t have an answer to that.”

my heart breaks. shatters, even. the man i love, the first and last man i would ever love, still has feelings for an ex he broke up with over five years ago.

i shake my head. my whole body feels like it’s going to crumble any second.

“i’m sleeping at my mothers tonight.” i say, turning away from him.

“wait, wait!” he catches me, hands clasping around my face. he brings me close, eyes scanning my face in a frenzy. “don’t.. don’t do that. please.”

“i need time.” i say, without a hint of emotion in my tone. “away from you.”

“we can figure everything out.” he says, pulling me into him. my body meshes with his, his arms tightly around my waist. “i do admit, some part of me still loves her.” he whispers, like it pains him to say.

i go to push away from him.

“but, but!” he grabs my wrist. “but.. no matter what, it will never shadow the love i have for you.

“back then, i was young, and stupid. my heart was vulnerable. for a while after we had broken up, i never thought i’d find love again.

“but then, i found you. and even though apart of my heart always has a place for her, it’s in the past. i was fifteen when we met. i didn’t know how to handle a relationship, i didn’t even know what love was. truly.

“you taught me that. you taught me what it means to love someone unconditionally. you taught me what it means to love someone.”

my throat catches.

“do you mean that?” i whisper.

“with my whole being, i mean that.” he lets me go, eyes looking over my face. “fuck death do we part, i will find you in every single lifetime. you are all that i want.”

slowly, i smile.

“okay.”

“.. okay.” he nods, face slowly softening. he kisses the crown of my head, breathing in and holding me to his chest. “i love you.”

“i love you too.”

[uplatterme]

Pure and Sweet (For Old Time’s Sake)

cw: sub!scaramouche / sub!wanderer (how do i label this now), virgin!scaramouche (but not really, you’ll see what i mean), sensitive!scaramouche, dom!reader, fatui!reader, amab!reader but gender-neutral pronouns, stomach bulge, over-sensitivity

summary: after the events in sumeru, the wanderer meets up with someone familiar and does some familiar activities. oh you know, just for old time’s sake

a/n: written before scaramouche lore came out so yeah this doesn’t make sense anymore 💀

Every day, the citizens of Sumeru sees the Wanderer come up to the highest peak of Sumeru. No one knows the reason why, nor does anyone stop him even if his body was not suitable for climbing such heights due to recent event that everyone’s been talking about.

Perhaps, it was the fault of the rumors going around which is why no one’s dared to talk to him. Even though his intimidating glance would serve enough for anyone who dared to try.

The traveler claimed that he’s grown softer nowadays… Yet, he still remained close off.

“Come out.” His voice ordered, stern as usual.

“Did you hit your head that hard on the ground for you to not notice it was me?” You questioned him.

He stuttered, not expecting your arrival. Especially not when he looked like this. “(Name). What? Have you come to get rid of me?”

You laughed at his antics. “Me? Oh no, quite the opposite actually.”

You stop in the middle of your words, admiring his new appearance. “You look like an angel, Scaramouche. A new soul.”

There’s red spreading on his cheeks from just your compliments. “Don’t call me that.”

“What? An angel?” You teased.

The repeated teasing made him roll his eyes. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Show me a tour? For old time’s sake.” You asked.

“Can’t. I’m not allowed in some areas.” He refuted.

“And yet you go up here.” You uttered, knowing he could clearly hear it.

You walked closer to him, his feet obviously wanting to run away. “I’m surprised you’re handling this heat well, Scaramouche.”

He let out an annoyed sound, hearing you call him by that again. He wasn’t complaining outright, looks like the traveler was right about that. “You should say that to yourself. Let me guess, that bastard Pantalone got that trash for you?” He said, referring to the cloak on your shoulders.

“Mhm. It is quite hot. Mind taking it off for me?” You told him, not really expecting him to do what you said.

Still.

Scaramouche closed in the space between the both of you, taking the cloak off slowly as he struggled not to meet with your eyes. You could almost hear his heart thump with each slow movement.

“Scaramouche.”

“Yeah?”

You raised his chin, bringing his lips closer to yours. He tasted sweet, pure, and innocent. Unlike when the two of you shared lips from before. There’s a whine that came out of his throat, wanting to let go but he instead kissed you deeper, wanting and needy for your touch.

You caressed his cheek after you separated from him. He flinched immediately.

“Missed me?” You ask.

“Shut up.”

It was new. His reactions from your touch was incredible and you hadn’t even purposely touched him anywhere erogenous.

“Hn.” He trembled in your hands.

You took out his cock and he sounded like he was already ready to cum. He shivered, grabbing onto your shoulders as you pump him as slow as you could.

“(N-Name). Wait—ahn!”

Drips of him fell on the ground.

“Did they give you a baptism? You act as if you’re a virgin pure.” You joked.

Scaramouche faced you and his eyes are tearing up.

“Shit, doll. You can’t just look at me like that.” You said.

“Hurry… Want it inside. Please!”

You took off his pants, wondering if he needed any preparations. His gaping hole opening up and closing repeatedly just for you, clenching as if there was already something inside. “Please.” He begged once more.

You slowly insert yourself into him and if not for your assistance, he would’ve fallen on the ground. He orgasmed again, his legs trembling too much for any kind of steadiness.

He choked on his sobs, moaning repeatedly with every pump you give him.

You could barely understand what he was saying anymore.

“Ish—feels—so-so good.”

Scaramouche was fucking tight. You didn’t know what kind of shit they gave him in this region but archon were you thankful for it.

“I-Inside… Fill m-me up!” He whined.

You’ve lost count as to how much he’d cum at this point and by the look of his eyes rolling up with his tongue out, neither did he.

He cried out as you pounded him deeper, your cock bulging from his tiny body, hitting him in all the right spots.

The dirt below him was soaking wet as his cock continued to spurt out as you milked him for more.

“F-Fuck! Ah—Ah! I-I can’t.” He stuttered while he felt you throbbing inside him.

His walls spread out as you came inside him, pounding him a couple more times just to make sure your warm cum got deeper in him.

Scaramouche is a mess, you’re not sure if he’s even able to form any coherent thoughts anymore.

His clothes were ruined and you weren’t sure if he’d be able to walk for a few days after this. You covered him with the cloak you were wearing even though you were sure he’d argue with that.

You carried him back to his current settlement and accidentally bumped into a few familiar faces.

“Watch him for me, will you? Tell him he gets to keep the cloak.” You said to the blond and his companion, handing a bag of mora in his hands.

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Heyy! Hope all is well!

Can I request Jason with a Shy! Reader but freaky reader? She prefers not to socialize with others that much BUT WHEN ITS JUST HER AND JASON ALL ALONE??

She’s quite literally snatching the soul from his body (got him seeing stars and the Lazarus pit all over again)

Of course, remember to take care of yourself!

-🥔 anon

This inspired me to do a little something based off a trope. The trope being “well-read girls know how to do it well.” This isn’t completely freaky, but you go for a ride. That’s all that matters.

Not fully smutty, but not sfw by any means.

—

Time Written - 1:16 a.m

You were the epitome of bookshop attendee when he visited a new said corner store one day, wearing cute blue light glasses as you typed away at your computer, nursing a warm latte from the next door cafe.

The prime example of cheesy first time meeting via you unable to reach a book you wanted off what Jason accidentally assumed was a horror shelf category. A unique, interesting read Jason politely snatched for you, taking in your thankful, flustered smile as fingertips brushed against eachother.

One of the most interesting compliments Jason got about his relationship with you had come from Barbara at first, who said he was an incredibly lucky guy to find someone so sweet and good natured.

Dick wasn’t aware Jason even had a girlfriend until Babs brought it up around eight months into the relationship, when you and Jason were certain it was getting quite serious.

He met you twice when coming over into your shared living space, greeting you with simple handshakes and minor conversation, though nothing note worthy. Dick thought you were awkward, plain and simple, cute to look at for sure though.

He didn’t know you were Jason’s type, though he never really put thought to what he looked for in a woman. A why, little bookworm introvert going for Red Hood?

Why didn’t he think of that sooner?

He’d never seen Jason sport such a goofy smile on his face every time he saw the two of you talking together on the side. Whatever made the broody man happy was all that mattered.

You met Bruce Wayne when he insisted Jason brought his mysterious plus one to the approaching gala that very Friday night.

A grand room full of high class people flaunting their wealth wasn’t in your list of experiences you wanted to have, and Jason didn’t blame you. All you could muster was an hour of full face makeup, pretty hair and an expensive dress to meet the main man himself, forming some small, respective conversation before murmuring to Jason that you wanted to leave.

He was glad you asked, he wanted to go home the second the two of you arrived.

Coming home to a quiet, calm environment was always something the two of you looked forward to. Just a safe space where you could be yourselves around one another, caring little for any judgements the universe threw at you.

Jason lounged on the couch back in the respective privacy of your shared apartment, his dress shirt opened a few buttons with his coat draped over the kitchen chair. His disinterested gaze was stuck on the television, mindlessly flipping through channels as he waited for his turn for the shower.

“Last night wasn’t too much for ya, was it?” Jason expressed with concern after he hears the bathroom door open down the short hallway.

“Believe me, old man always wants me to go to those parties. Hate it every damn time.” He turns his head, eyes slightly widening at your approach towards the couch. You were out of that gorgeous dress, your body comfortable in one of his old shirts. You could wear trash bags or a damn potato sack and pull it off like one of those magazine cover models.

With a blush coating those pretty cheeks, your body blocks his view from the television, bare feet softly scooting against soft carpet. Bracing your hands along the couch, you then proceeded to sit yourself ontop of Jason’s lap, nestling your knees along the cushions.

You held a certain giddiness about you as if you’ve drank a few glasses of champagne, though no alcohol touched your lips the entire hour you were at the event.

He emits a soft grunt, his right arm wrapping around your back in order to hold you close. He can’t help but smile up at you, taking in the sweet scent of your body wash and lotion.

“Something you want, pretty girl?” He casually asks, his voice soft and husky with a hint of that playful tone he reserves only for you.

In response, your hands spread out along his chest, trailing down the maroon fabric of his pressed shirt, fiddling with some loose buttons along his collar.

“You know what I want, Jason.”

“Do I?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

His voice grew a little more teasing now, knowing that look in your eye quite well. He knew what you wanted, but he liked when you vocalized it. He liked that in a woman, knowing exactly what she wants.

“Enlighten me.”

You pout at first, pursing those supple lips before your teasing fingers proceed do undo one of his shirt buttons. Then another, and another.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” He asks again, moving his hand down from the small of your back to your hip, rubbing along the smooth skin.

“You know what I want, Jay,” You insist, proceeding to grow bold enough to shift your hips a bit, slowly rocking once against his lap.

Jason lets out a low noise from the gesture, taking a slow breath through his nose. You had on no shorts underneath your shirt, completely lacking those pretty, lacy panties you had worn under your dress. With the slightest movement, Jason could feel nothing but bare, soft skin, making the warm ache in his lower abdomen grow into a bright burn.

“You’re such a brat,” he mumbles, giving your hip a firm squeeze. “I swear.”

“A brat??” You nearly laugh, bracing both hands on his chest. “That’s meaaan.”

��Oh please,” Jason scoffs, his voice thick with amusement. “Don’t start with that whining, now. It’s not that mean.“

Without any warning, he hoists both of you up from the couch, keeping your legs secured around his waist.

A short surprise laugh left you as you scrabble to cling onto him, maintaining the short distance between the living room couch and the soft, unmade sheets of his bed.

“Why are you being so bratty, huh?” Jason questions after setting you down, catching those tits bounce under your shirt from the impact of your fall. He barely had time to catch sight of your eager little cunt before you purposely fold your legs, focused eyes watching your persistent fingers reach for his belt, eagerly unsecuring the buckle.

“Cause I can be,” You promptly sit up, not bothering to yank the loosened belt out of the loops.

“And you said it yourself. You like it.” You lustfully add, watching his teal eyes flutter closed, hearing the faint crunch of the sheets rustle in your ears as both his hands clutch fistfuls of fabric.

To further emphasize, you unfold your legs, promptly securing them beside his waist, further tempting him on such a sweet, irresistible offer.

Jason groans, tilting his head back a bit as he decides on his limited options. He was tired, wanting to take a hot shower and cuddle his sweetheart to rest.

On the other hand—

“I like a lot of things you do, princess. This just happens to be one of them.” His smile grows with his words as you lean up to kiss along his jaw, having him cradle your chin in between two fingers to properly kiss those rosy lips.

“You remind me of a little gremlin when you’re like this,” he murmurs. “Or just a greedy, spoiled little princess.”

“And you wanna fuck your princess, don’t you?” You tease, kissing him once more to spare a small nibble along his bottom lip, making him groan yet again in defeat.

Yes. He does want you, and you know damn well that you have him where you wanted him. There would be no way that he could say no to you.

And why isn’t he able to say ‘no’ to this girl? He should have a little more self-control than this.

His minor moment of being left speechless proved that, making him roll his eyes.

“You’re really are a little brat,” he laughs quietly, choosing to tease you regardless, looking forward to that quirk in your brow shortly after.

Realistically, if this was any other human being or meta monster of some kind, no way in heaven or hell would he get allow someone to willingly put him on his back. It’s a breach of vulnerability, of submission in his mind.

You weren’t anyone by any means, those soft hands grasping along his broad shoulders, using what strength you had to lean him onto the mattress space beside you, cushioning yourself once more on the gracious seat of his plush thighs once more.

Trust was a huge stability in this scenario, one built upon hours of heartfelt discussions on boundaries and healthy behaviors, sharing what the both of you liked and didn’t.

It was endearing to know he had your full trust to grow more comfortable, encased in each confident kiss you gave him while he reaches up to cradle your head, fingers deeply interlaced in locks of shower damp hair.

Jason’s hands slip up under your shirt as he holds you close, squeezing along your ass before pushing your hips down against himself, firmly rocking up against your sopping core to get a sweet whimper out of you.

His other hand worked under your shirt, squeezing along your tender breasts, pinching your nipples to draw out those eager little whines. A mere ounce of payback for your torturous actions.

“You know you could just ask, right?” He chided with a smirk, proceeding to do the work for you by unbuttoning his pants, hastily pulling the zipper down.

Your hands work to free his eager cock from his boxers, biting your bottom lip in excitement to feel his heavy girth in your palms.

Of course, there’s many chances you would have just been able to ask in this moment and in this position. You knew that.

Your middle finger trailed along the smooth tip, wiping off a fat bead of precum that came close to dripping down the side, bringing it to your mouth to graze it along the tip of your tongue.

“I know.”

Teasing him was just a whole lot more fun.

Raising your hips a bit, you rest yourself over the underside of his cock, rocking yourself back and forth. The sting of blunt nails soon irritated your hips, Jason’s impatience peeking through as he feels himself grow soaked with your juices. The tip bumping deliciously against your throbbing little clit.

He makes the tiniest noise as you take the reins, but it just fuels your desire to ‘ruin’ him even more. Once you had started, there’s not much of a chance he has to stay in control.

Important of all, out of all qualities he adored of you, he thrived on your incredibly sweet mouth, like fresh cherry juice seeping through warm, crystallized sugar crust holding in the compote.

Jason loved the tart bitterness of your sassy nature, your ability to talk back during those start moments where it mattered most.

He couldn’t ask for more, really.

His head cranes back, grunting in delicious euphoria of your wet walls perfectly clenching around his cock after mere minutes of torture, feeling like hours. You’ve never been so wet, needing more prep than this before he could even stuff himself halfway through your walls.

Your body accepted him easier, eagerly taking in every inch as you bounce yourself on his cock, squeezing your own breasts as you moan in complete ecstasy, feeling him kissing your sweet spot each time.

Jason could only marvel and admire the beauty above him, his own chest slowly heaving from the sight. The way your hips moved was like art, your back arching like a flower stalk in the breeze, your lips crying out the sweetest of music.

You were gorgeous, where Jason was impatient. There was little time before his hold on you reinforced, his legs bracing along the mattress before he takes the lead, moaning out himself as he thoroughly fucks the girl that got them into this mess. A constant staccato of clinking from his belt accompanied the relentless pounding of his heavy, full balls against your ass.

The rest of his shirt would be ripped open with broken buttons hanging by severed threads done by impatient hands. Manicured nails scratching across every scar down his chest, inventing new ones after every climax you had, his cum coating your gushy walls white.

His neck would be doused in love bites the size of rose petals, matching similar to the bruises that will show up around your waist come morning.

Jason Todd was incredibly fucking lucky indeed, since the second he unawaringly snatched a rather tasteful romance novel for you at the book store.

[primaviva]

PAIRINGS: gwen, miles (42!), hobie, pav, and miguel x fem! reader

SYNOPSIS: astv characters and their s/o going to see barbie.

WARNING/NOTES: matching outfits, the mention of o-o-oppenheimer 🤢🤮, barbie photo ops, miguel being a mamón

— GWEN

i hate to say it so… but she wanted to watch oppenheimer first.

she sent you a text talking about sum “babe let’s see oppenheimer it looks good 🥰” and then you sent her a voice memo of gun shots from your gun sound simulator app and she understood she was wrong.

gwen thinks father of the atomic

it’s not like she didn’t wanna see barbie but she was like… it’s barbie

“babe cmon! you can’t tell me oppenheimer doesn’t look cool. what is barbie even about? is she gonna go on an adventure to find that old rubber high heel the little girl that owns her lost those many years ago? oooo so interesting.”

“do not mock me gwendolyn.”

you showed her the trailer as gwen showed you the oppenheimer trailer

in the end you both lost.

yeah… oppenheimer is a glorification a historical event that people don’t touch on the affects it had and rather the men behind it

and yeah… barbie having an existential crisis on what it means to be a woman and her place in the world sounded like it had potential

“i mean, yeah the trailer is kinda fire,” you admitted, weak in defeat.

gwen crossed her arms with a smirk of victory. “see! i told you that it looked cool,” she rubbed in your face before changing her expression, “but… barbie also sounds like it’s gonna be good. who says we can’t do both?”

you guys do barbieheimer.

and since you both were already gonna indulge in the internet craze… of course you played into it

gwen dressed in all black in this tux and even got the hat to match

you on the other hand wore all pink in tribute to barbie

she was FAWNING over you.

the cute outfit? the accessories? you in general?

you also couldn’t lie with how attractive gwen looked in a blazer I MEANNNN

she wore a bunch of rings on her hands and had a tie and all but she made it looser and looser until she just took it off and shoved it in her pocket before y’all left because it was annoying the shit out of her

“oh my you look so dapper,” you complimented, fighting back laughs from your choice of wording.

you watched as she smoothed down the blazer, shocked that she even had that in her closet. it was weird seeing her dressed like that and you couldn’t help but try to not look. it would be a bad night if she caught you peeking because yeah, you know she’s fine, but do you want her knowing that? to use that against you as leverage? hell. no.

gwen let out a laugh as she striked a pose, hands on her hips moving the sides of the blazer behind her to show off black waistcoat top. “really? you flatter me. aren’t you the bees knees yourself, babe.”

you cringed. hard.

her attempt at 1940 slang was where you drew the line and her shit eating grin didn’t help.

“gwen… dare i say gwendolyn again.”

she smirked. “yes, sugar lips?”

“i hate you.”

gwen was clearly feeling herself

you were too

and trust there was a photoshoot. and trust that it was gwen’s idea even if it was mostly her taking photos of you and her hyping you up crazy

“you’re gonna be the prettiest there babe. nobody can top my girl! not even barbie-”

“don’t be corny with me please…”

you guys decided to watch oppenheimer first and then end on a happy note with barbie

throughout oppenheimer you could see… even FEEL gwen’s eyes staring at the side of your head

she was just making sure you at least enjoyed the movie because it would break her soul if she forced you to watch something you didn’t like

you guys ended up loving it, especially the bomb scene

then you guys watched barbie…

it was a lot of laughing but the moment the movie started taking its turn bro gwen was fighting tears

and at the end of it? BALLING HER EYES OUT

if you are crying you both are just looking at each other in utter shock at the movie but also doing a really poor job at hugging each other

if you aren’t crying your eyes out with her you are comforting her while kinda laughing at her because she thought it was just gonna be some pink glam movie

it wasn’t.

“t-the message… this is so embarrassing i can’t stop crying what the fuck,” she cried into her palms which made her sound really funny as it was muffled by her skin.

you just held her close and you guys talked about the movies

especially like talking about the symbolism in barbie and how it touched on women suffering from the system and standards they are forced to live up to like it really hit gwen especially because the hate she got for how she acted in astv and how nobody was coming at the males that did the same or even worse than her

she sends you tiktok edits of gloria x barbie and says “us❤️”

overall, it was a 10/10 experience y’all went out to eat after in your cute outfits n all

— MILES

you asked him and miles was down IMMEDIATELY

he was another that thought oppenheimer looked good but he didn’t really mention going to the movie with you and the same thing for barbie

miles just thought they was both cool lookin

so you asked him.

“miles, baby, i have a very important question to ask you… one that may very well determine the outcome of this relationship.”

you spoke stern and serious, and almost vague.

"yeah, what's up? something wrong?" miles asks, slightly concerned, running his fingers through his curls and looking up at you.

“will you watch the barbie movie with me?” you pleaded with your hands, “pleaseee!”

miles eyes go wide, a smile spreading across his face.

"yes! i'm so down! i'll even be your ken if you wanna be my barbie. you know i'm a sucker for anything barbie."

you laughed, moving over to sit in his lap. he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer. “my ken, huh? i like the idea of that.”

“i mean, what else would i be? i’m here to serve you,” he spoke with a slight blush painted on his cheeks. you giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“we should do those matching couple outfits for barbie,” you suggested, “wouldn’t we look so cute?”

"matching outfits?" he asks thoughtfully. "y’know what, i think i know the perfect idea for our couple's look, babe."

miles had this glow to him as you literally saw a light bulb go off in his head.

“oh really, you have an idea?” you questioned, furrowing your brows at the speed of whatever little brain storm was going on in his head. “is it boricua barbie? because not gonna lie, i’d love to see you in a dress.”

"hmm, you wanna see me in a pink, ruffly dress?" miles teases you, smiling at the idea. "why didn't you tell me you were into cute boys in feminine outfits sooner, babe? cus’ i’d dress up for you whenever you want."

“you play too much,” choked out through the giggles as you shoved his shoulder. "hey now, i look amazing in a dress," he laughs. "but i do have an idea that includes both matching barbie costumes and me being your ken, if you're up for it."

miles smiles sweetly at you, his expression turning a little mischievous. “if you have an idea, please do tell,” you said in a sultry voice.

"i want to do what barbie and ken did in that one movie, where ken turns out to actually have superpowers too," miles explains excitedly. "but instead of us being the same superhero, like we both have super strength or super speed, we could be superheroes who complement each other."

you laughed im disbelief. ‘no way’ you thought, knowing exactly what he was thinking of.

he takes your hand, placing the other one on your cheeks and staring deeply into your eyes as he smiles at you. "what do you think?" miles whispers, leaning down toward you.

“you wanna be barbie and ken… from barbie princess power,” you recited slowly, a grin stretching across your face. “of course the one who is a superhero vigilante says this.”

miles' smile widens. "yes, princess power! that's exactly what i was talkin’ about," he says. "and come on, don't underestimate the barbie movies. most of them are really good, dare i say cinematic masterpieces!”

you mouthed an ‘okay’ as you rolled your eyes.

"if i'm your ken, you have to be my barbie," he says, moving his hands onto your waist and moving you up his lap. "the most iconic couple in the barbie universe, right here."

y’all outfits looked so funny but cute… like in a diy that didn’t go wrong typa way

and if you think for a minute mamita rio let y’all go without them facebook mom photos you’re sadly mistaken

"sonríe pa la foto!" rio yelled as the flash coming from her phone was almost blinding.

“mami, por favor-”

miles begging was not gonna get him anywhere with his mom.

“dios mío, you both look so cute,” rio gushed.

“señora morales…you’re too kind!”

miles dad gave you both the typical “y’all better not get into no trouble” parent speech and then you both was off

when i say he was fangirling over the barbie themed cups and popcorn… i mean it

he was taking photos of everything

the whole movie his mouth was wide open in awe

miles was actually so furious at ken he looked absolutely lost and physically upset watching that white piece of plastic run a muck in barbieland

“HE TALKIN’ TO BARBIE LIKE THAT??”

yes, he cried at the end… and at the middle… and a little at the start

at first he was just amazed with the cinematography

but then when they got to the real world? just seeing through the movies lens and it’s take on how modern society treats women based on the parallel barbie world like he felt so unreal

at the end, he was acting like those guys on tiktok that was treating the women in they lives like absolute QUEENS walking out the theater because of the perspective they got watching the movie

not that he didn’t treat you like that before, don’t get him wrong, it’s just that he felt the need like a bunch of other guys after watching the movie to apologizes for the system men have created

it was a little funny, especially because it has nothing to do with him and men doing this type of stuff is a little corny coming from the privilege of the gender, but you appreciated it nonetheless

if you cried during the movie tho? he is bear hugging you crazy and not letting go even after the barbie world credits end

you guys leave the theater holding hands and talking about the film and he is geeking out over all the symbolism and stuff this man watches titanic you know he’s a secret film bro

“i’m so sorry mi amor, that us men have failed our women-”

and there miles went, on a nonstop rant about how you are his queen and how much he loves the women in his life.

you ended up sleeping over at his place

with the door open of course… you know rio is watching.

he had so much fun with you tonight and you could tell by the way he slept with a big smile displayed on his face.

— PAVITR

you asked him and he was happily accepting before you even got the question fully out.

“pav!” you called out from behind him, pulling him in from the neck for a hug. “hey, i wanna ask you something. do you wanna-”

“yes.”

“wait… what? pav i didn’t even say anything yet? what if i’m about to say something completely criminal?” you asked in a teasing tone.

“hehe, yeah maybe i’m a little too excited to see you. what is it, love?”

his eyes looked at you so bright and full of love, it was almost distracting.

“can we go see the barbie movie? we can even wear all pink and match…”

you were gonna say more, but you didn’t have to.

pav was immediately saying yes to everything

until the fear sunk in…

"wait, but I don't have anything pink to wear!" pavitr exclaimed, sounding slightly distressed. "does that mean you won't go with me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and giving you a teasing smile.

he knows you’d never do such a thing.

"you know, i don't usually dress in pink, but for you i'll make an exception!"

you suggested you both go shopping like a little couples date

it was chaotic to say the least… but just as fun !!

he was acting like a model with everything he put on and it got even worse when you let him look at the stuff you were putting on

absolutely whipped.

“my girlfriend is gorgeous! absolutely gorgeous!”

you thanked him again, and again, and again.

“pav, do you think you are india’s next top model? because you are not gaytari,” you teased for him not finding an outfit yet, landing a peck on his cheek as he giggled in response.

"i'II look my best for the movie," he added with a wink. "are you sure you can handle all this style?"

all you could do was roll your eyes.

y’all were almost late to the movie because of bro

but you weren’t.

for the movie he was similar to miles and just in awe

in the beginning he was rooting for ken because he thought he was just being a good service boyfriend

you can imagine pavitr heartbreak when he started talking about the patriarchy

“no, wait- KEN WHAT ARE YOU DOING I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU!”

man is anger sobbing

words cannot describe the physical anger he feels seeing ken talk to barbie in such a manner he was stunned at the switch up

he also loved all of ruth’s parts, thinks she carried the whole movie

was physically leaning backwards at the sad scenes just taking it all in

pavitr LOVED the movie

came out the theater a changed man.

“my amazing, sweetest, most caring girlfriend…the prettiest of all mumbattan,” he spoke as he got down on one leg.

‘oh boy’ you thought, preparing yourself.

“i promise you, i would never ever treat you like how ken did barbie. you are a breathtaking woman and deserve the world-”

there goes another speech.

he walked you home like a true gentleman he smoking that ken pack and y’all talked about your favorite parts

pavitr overall had a really good time with you and enjoyed the message of the movie

— HOBIE

hobie is not and i repeat NOT watching that atomic bomb glorification story

but a movie about the patriarchy and double standard against women that hurts both genders based on the system men built through a satire film that is actually very political and has a message? yeah he’s going

when you told him tho not gonna lie he was gonna clown you

“barbie? like that lil white girl… you sure you wanna go watch that, luv?”

once you told him about the plot and showed him the trailer bro was READY to go

the set up of barbie world being a parallel to modern society was music to his ears

“really? i didn’t really expect allat comin’ from that bird. ight then, i’ll go. now i'm kinda curious.”

yes, he dresses up with you.

hobie is a punk icon… you know gender does not define him and he doesn’t care about breaking the “rules” of fashion of bit

so what does he dress as?

erika from rock n royals barbie.

guitar included.

you? well it’s a couple costume YOU'RE GONNA BE HIS COURTNEY

it’s not like you guys wore an exact replica of the outfits it was just heavily inspired fits

y’all looked cute as hell tho trust

“hobie, i can feel you staring,” you told him as you fixed up your makeup in your mirror.

it was true, you could feel him staring at you. heavy.

you looked to the side of your mirror and indeed saw him eyeing your figure with a soft smirk as he leaned against your bed frame. “what, not allowed to look at my girl now? since when?”

he was teasing and he knew it was making you flustered just by how your face was heating up.

his outfit isn’t too far out of bounds of what we would normally wear, but you couldn’t lie and say that the new colors didn’t fit him. the purple and the blue accents of his outfit, the leather jacket, the black eyeshadow with glitter that he surprisingly let you do, just everything about him looked so good.

hobie walked up behind you and put his hands on your hips, guiding your body closer to his as he watched your hands freeze applying your lip liner.

“don’t stop cus’ of me,” he spoke sheepishly.

you continued and shortly after finished up. his eyes still stared silently at you, admiring your beauty. “looking again, hobie? y’know i hope you pay attention to this movie…”

“i am,” he admitted with no shame, “you’re the prettiest gal i’ve seen. not gonna deny that.”

he pressed a slow, open mouth kiss on your shoulder as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. his breath was warm against your chilled skin.

“shall we get goin’ now?”

he payed attention to the movie but he couldn’t help wrapping a arm around your shoulder and making little comments in your ear

hobie got quiet tho towards the middle because he genuinely got invested once her feet turned flat and barbie met the ceo

but once the movie started getting deep… BOYY the look on this mans face he was stunned, appalled, baffled, gobsmacked even at ken

and then the speech about women? lawd.

he didn’t cry at all during the final sequence and if anything i think he was confused…

“wait that’s the lady from before that was makin tea, innit?”

“yes hobie.”

“holdup, where the granny go? what’s with the white void?”

“HOBIE-”

don’t get it twisted tho he understood the film and thought it was beautifully done

y’all talked about all the topics afterwards and let’s just say bro hates kens and is angry that nobody told them shit

“are they mad? they must be cus’ no way after everything that happened they just gon forgive the man for being a raging misogynist… they had the girls wearing maid costumes and not one apology was heard man that’s insane!”

hobie smoking that ken pack

he enjoyed the movie but what made him enjoy it was doing it with you <33

— MIGUEL

you know you had to ask him.

bro was not considering anything that would take him away from his work or distract him because he feels he doesn’t have time for that

and the crazy thing is that miguel knows about the hype about the movie and the whole barbie core pink mania

but of course he gonna act like he don’t and got better things to do.

“do you wanna see the barbie movie with me?”

those the words that stopped the gears turning in his head.

“excuse me?” miguel asked, looking up from his report with furrowed brows as his forehead already began to crease.

you wanted to dwell on the fact that he is getting annoyed before you even got to explain yourself, but you pushed it to the back of your mind. no, you couldn’t let him get push you away this time.

“you heard me, miguel. c’mon, the movie with margot robbie! and did i mention barbie? one of the most popular dolls? don’t act stupid,” you told him, walking over and wrapping your arms around his neck to hug him close from behind as he sat. “you don’t think it would be fun?”

he pinches the bridge of his nose, knowing what you’re about to get him into.

“mi vida…” you hear him sigh, quietly in almost a cut-it-out type of tone. he moves his head to the side and you can practically feel the confusion behind the glare. “you’re joking.”

you move one of your hands to your heart. “miguel!” you gasped playful, “this is a serious matter. why would i even joke about watching a movie with you?”

“because there's no way you're being serious. you don't go looking for me to see a barbie movie. especially one you know i'll refuse,” he replies, his voice stern.

“but-”

"Is this some sort of elaborate humiliation attempt?"

“NO!”

"... you're serious, aren't you? what's in it for me? i mean, it's a barbie movie."

you explain to him the premise and he still acts like this whole thing is stupid and you have no business trying to see this movie with him

but he can’t lie, he’s intrigued.

he kinda wants to see it.

and he’s trying his best to hide it.

"okay… what time?" he asked, defeated.

“really, my begging actually worked? thank god because i already brought two tickets and it would’ve been sad showing up alone,” you confessed.

“you bought them? already?” he repeated, caught off guard by how ready you were. “and what time are they for?"

“7:30.”

“fine, fine. but i'm holding you to your word. If it turns out this is some kind of elaborate scheme, you'll be hearing about it."

he’s so suspicious for no reason

now when it came to outfits… yeah you know miguel owns no pink whatsoever

you didn’t even know he knew about the pink craze or even wanted to play into it until he let it slip

"what am i supposed to wear then? i don't own anything pink.”

“it’s fine we’ll go shoppin- wait who said anything about pink outfits to you?”

you started making fun of him but then he threatened to take back saying he was going with you and told you that you’d be sitting in a theater all by yourself

but then you brought up again how he was ready to wear pink for you and he had a little slip up

"n-no? i mean, I could… if i’m gonna go see this thing with you and it your way, might as well commit right?”

his facade was slipping, this was golden. “so you will wear pink?”

the mischievous look on your face made him annoyed but he knew what he was getting into.

“i said i could, not that i’m going to. don’t get your hopes up chiquita."

he did end up wearing pink

little said he know you were plotting something against him

it started off nice… simple.

it was white pants with a pink button up

you told him for a “pop of color” he should wear a green blazer

sound familiar? because you were planning a scheme YOU DRESSED HIM AS SUGAR DADDY KEN

it was for shits and giggles

he had no idea until it was all paid for and safe to tell him before miguel made you fix his outfit

he’s ore than a little surprised, and not really sure how to react. miguel takes a look at the outfit, and does his best to try and hold back a chuckle.

"this... is a joke. there's no way you're serious about me wearing this, is there?”

“put. it. on.”

he does a low sighs and take the outfit from you. "fine, only because it's you."

it didn’t take him long to finish in the changing room, and when he stepped out you were enchanted by the sight.

“happy?”

yes. indeed you were very happy.

he was paying for everything of course like the sugar daddy he doesn’t know he is

he had his arms crossed, sat down legs spread, watching you change into different pink outfits and rating telling you how he thought you looked

you’d do little spins for miguel

“muy bella.” “you look gorgeous.” “i like that one, fits you nicely.”

you ended up leaving and going to the movie and while on your way there decided to tell him about his little outfit.

“you wanna know a secret, miggy?” you ask him with a grin.

he raises a brown at you, “i feel like you're gonna tell me regardless, so i'm gonna say yes.”

you say nothing, you just pull up a photo of sugar daddy ken and show it to him.

as his eyes flicker to the screen, you see the light amusement fade away from his expression as it turns to one of genuine confusion and horror. miguel’s hand moves subconsciously to the green blazer, as the fear sets in that he recognizes exactly what the outfit is referring to. “you didn’t…”

“but i did.”

“you. you are a bad person.”

truth be told, he really liked the movie

miguel just really liked the message like it made it him think of all the women that were and are in his life like you and all the other girls he’s wronged before you iykyk

but it also made him sad because it reminded him of gabriella

just thinking about all the muñequitas she use to play with before it happens

all the dress up games they use to play, when he pretended to be whatever doll he picked for her to play pretend scenarios with her dream house

it also made him sad to think of the strong, independent woman she wouldn’t become if it wasn’t for him

he didn’t tear up, no not at all.

but by the empty look on his face you could tell just how he was feeling

you put a hand over his as the audience laughed at the screen. “miguel, you okay? you know we can leave if that’s what you want.”

he just turned, put his hand over yours and gave it a squeeze. “no, no… i’m fine. don't worry.”

you guys had a good time and you swore you could see a small smile stretch across his face during some moments

he genuinely wanted to talk about the movie with you for hours but the man does have to sleep at some point

“hey, i just wanted to thank you for uh… convincing me to see a barbie movie. yeah, it sounded ridiculous and thought you were trying to find some way to mess with me for my attention. but, i really did enjoy spending time with you. just felt compelled to tell you that is all.”

miguel holds his heavy responsibility of the universe on his shoulders and is filled with grief

he doesn’t do this with the intent to tell people how to live their lives, but to try and protect what he couldn’t

so yeah, he’s glad you could give him some relief from the day

A/N: hey guys… i feel it’s been a minute but this took so long and it’s my first time writing for all of them beside gwen so im scared it’s gonna sound like shit so ??? i hope y’all enjoyed tho 🫶 BARBIE WAS SO GOOD

© 2023 primaviva — artist credits: zvdohu

[delululand]

enhypen ideal type (hyung line)

don't take it too seriously, these are just my observations based on analysis of their words, interviews and behavior in general

p.s. i lived in Korea for a few months and it gave me some impressions too

heeseung

i know it’s not popular opinion, but i think he is not what many people imagine him to be

being so flirty and sexy on stage is one thing, but acting like that in real life is something else entirely. if you look at different shows and interviews, he is a much calmer and more shy guy. of course he can flirt and all that, but not as much as people here and on tik tok imagine him (in most of the works here he is presented as a literally 24/7 flirting lecherous guy)

I think he would like a coquettish , extroverted girl who at first glance seemed shy. he himself is often embarrassed by compliments, but in many videos you can see HOW he looks when girls are embarrassed by his compliments…

in one interview he said that he is not very emotionally strong and needs attention and care, I think he needs someone who is naturally very caring and affectionate, who can understand these needs without asking out loud and show him how loved he is, without allowing him to feel feeling lonely

jay

idk it’s just so obvious hahaha

if speak about appearance i really think he like smt like typical feminine energy? like nice clothes (not necessarily dresses or skirts, but something that still looks feminine), good perfume and more soft (?) face it’s little difficult to explain, but of idols, I’d say jennie. not really herself, but energy like hers.

he looks pretty dominant (not in sexual meaning, but about it maybe next time…🤭) and i think he will good with a woman who will allow him to do everything for her, even basic things. (I immediately remember the moment with the big keyboard and sunghoon on one of the shows, when jay constantly wanted to press the buttons with him, but sunghoon shouted that he would do it himself and jay retreated, but his hands still constantly reached out to do it for sunghoon) + how he cares about jongwong

the boy says he's not a romantic but we all know HOW much romantic he is

i think he is little more traditional in that. not in bad way, just like be man and wanna protect his woman from everything bad that can happen

someone with whom he can talk openly about anything, a person who is a good listener

also we see that he is good with cooking and household chores, so I think he liked a girl who can also do it well. like this is not something obligatory and he’s no way gonna make you do it, but the very idea that you are a good at such things would impress him cause he look like literally husband and you both can do cooking date and all this stuff

go to luxury restaurants, travel staying in 5 stars hotel, go to shopping date and putting your wardrobe together, be “it couple” and after next years become like wife and husband, have a kids, go to family travel, even maybe with his family and once get old together

idk he really gives vibes like this😭

jake

hmmhm I don’t even know how to say this more correctly, but it seems to me that I’m still a little immature for something relatively serious?

i think his personality will change a little as he gets older, he is a very reasonable guy, just not in the matter of relationships as it seems to me

he looks like a natural flirt and because of this it is harder to understand his real preferences but he definitely likes girls with dark hair like latino girls

now he gives the vibes of that guy college crash au hahaha. I think he would have liked a more fun, but smart girl with whom they could discuss everything, he would happily explain all sorts of mathematical things to you and would be happy to listen to your story about anything

he's also very caring and tactile and he would really be perfect for the role of that college guy. like your first serious relationship, full of tenderness and love

someone with an adventurous soul who would be willing to try new things and almost everything with him and go along with them

sunghoon

okay, maybe somebody will disagree but i’m pretty sure he is korean korean

i mean more traditional korean, idk how explain it right but if you have been in korea and communicate with men here you understand hahaha

it’s just a type of guy who really traditionally in most cases and relationships too

actually in many situations he generally doesn’t interact very actively with girls in public but it seems to me that typical Korean beauty is closer to him?

I think he would like a cute girl with a slightly mysterious aura, little shy maybe, who he can endlessly tease but who could start a conversation with him first because he doesn't seem to initiate communication and maybe it's not very easy to get close to him.

but when he is in a relationship he is a very loyal and reliable partner, ready to do anything for his girlfriend. he doesn't show it, but I think he's on the more romantic side, the type who gives flowers and chocolate while saying something like “oh, this? I don’t know, I just saw it on the way home and take it.”

[fyodior]

IN EVERY UNIVERSE.

self-indulgent fyodor x gn!reader fluff because my heart is still so so broken :( no warnings! wc: 0.7k (divider by cafekitsune)

“I think that you and I would find each other in every universe.”

“Hmm?” your lover prods, pulling you closer against his chest and tipping your chin up with his finger. His violet eyes glowed in the waning light of the setting sun, slightly obscured by the raven fringe that swept across his forehead. “How do you mean?”

Taking advantage of the early summer weather and your approaching anniversary, you and Fyodor skipped work in favor of dedicating the day to your love. Starting with, of course, sleeping in, followed by a brunch you and him made together, visiting your favorite art museum, and ending the day with a picnic in a sprawling field within a nearby nature preserve.

It was like a movie, the way he hand-fed you strawberries and kissed away the juice that trickled down the corners of your lips with the laugh you could recognize anywhere. Prose and poetry danced off Fyodor’s lips as he read from the tote bag full of books you had lugged with you, reading stories of immortalized love and poems ignited by insurmountable passion as you laid your head in his lap. A few Russian novels had snuck their way into the collection as well, Fyodor gracing you with the heightened level of elegance and finesse in his voice as he spoke in his native tongue.

But now the two of you, pleasantly exhausted from the day, lie on the blanket laid out in the grass, surrounded by sprouts of baby’s breath and daisies in the cozy drowsiness of a summer haze.

You take the opportunity to press the gentlest of kisses against his warm lips, and he smiles softly as he returns the gesture. “I mean that… I don’t think there’s any version of us in any world, in any universe, in any timeline that don’t find each other. That never feel the touch of the other.”

Warmth blooms in Fyodor’s chest and spreads to each of his limbs, painting a rosy red on his cheeks that only you have ever been able to put there. “And why do you say that, my love?”

 “Because… I just know it. Our souls are intertwined. Don’t you feel it?”

It makes sense in your head. The way you perfectly compliment each other. The way you felt like you’d known him your whole life the second you met him. The tilt of his head and the almost mischievous spread of his lips felt like those of an old friend, and you hadn’t even known his name yet. And in that moment, too, you already knew you’d know him forever.

And yet, you weren’t two halves of a whole. You always found that expression to be reductive. To insinuate you were incomplete people without each other was incorrect – you would always be you, and Fyodor would always be Fyodor. But you made each other… better. More complete.

“Your handprint is forever burned on my soul, Fyodor,” you explain.

“I feel it,” he nods, answering your question from earlier as locks of your hair twirl between his fingers. “Like the roots of a thousand-year-old tree curl around each other and cement themselves into the earth, I feel it.” His hands leave your hair in favor of intertwining your fingers together, as if to illustrate his point.

 I fear we are stuck, you and I,” he chuckles, and you giggle along too.

“For better or for worse,” you say. “In every universe.”

“Through heaven and hell, and everything in between, above, or below. I’ll find you, my darling.”

The sun had finally dipped below the horizon now, casting your lover in a faint glow that made him seem ethereal, almost angelic. Your free hand, the one not enveloped in his, came to touch the delicate, porcelain skin of his cheek.

“You promise, Fedya? That you’ll find me?”

“I swear.”

[inkykeiji]

say you’ll love me to death, cause i will

character: todoroki touya | dabi x fem!reader

genre: smut

notes: alright, so we’ve discussed how touya-nii would react to encountering the man who took your virginity, but let's talk about how you would respond to running into the woman who took touya’s. set in my touya-nii au! as always please heed the warnings and stay safe! | title credit: RUNRUNRUN by dutch melrose

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudocest (stepcest), public sex, minimal prep, extreme jealousy, toxic relationship

words: 4.7k

synopsis:

“Well, that’s alright! How long have you two been together?”  And, oh, the giggle that bubbles past your lips is downright sinister, fucking caustic, burning your tongue and eroding your teeth.  No, you’re not his girlfriend, or his partner, or his significant other.  You’re something so much better. 

You’re off minding your own business, legs swinging idly on a bar stool as you wait for your designated reservation time, when it happens, when she appears. 

“Touya?”

The name cuts through the blurred noise of the restaurant, both yours and Touya’s attention snapping to the source: a woman, late twenties or so, waving a little in indication on the other side of the bar. 

She’s snaking through the patchy crowd, busy unfastening her hair from the intricate bun its been woven into—a requisite for all the waitresses at this establishment—eyes bright, smile brighter. 

You don’t even know who she is; not technically, anyway, had never thought to press the issue any further than a simple how’d it happen, had never cared enough to try—especially not when he had been sleeping with so many others right in front of you. 

It hadn’t seemed to matter much then. Not the way it matters now.

But she exists, because she must, because somebody would’ve had to take it, would’ve had to be the first, one way or another.

Doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

She’s pretty, but you wouldn’t expect any less. Touya stands as she reaches the two of you, pulling your body up with him.

But then Touya greets her, a name you’ve heard kicked around every now and then, and it all fully, finally clicks. 

Touya’s first. 

“Oh my God,” she’s gushing, “I haven’t seen you in—What’s it been now? Over ten years?” 

“Just about,” he responds easily, readjusting his grasp reassuringly on your hip as you cling to him, large palm flattening against your abdomen and hugging you closer to his side, tucked protectively beneath his arm.

“What are the chances! You look...” her eyes scan his body once, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, then back up again, and your fingers flex, coiled and rigid in the material of his shirt, stiff joints already aching. “Wow, incredible!”

“Thanks,” Touya says, an awkward lull in the conversation when he doesn’t repay the compliment. 

Their discussion meanders for a little bit—how have you been, what are you doing now, remember when...?—most of it muddled by the blood roaring in your ears and jealousy burning in your throat. 

But then her fingertip is just barely grazing his forearm as she points in indication at the ink etched into his skin, and your ears tune into their frequency again, white-hot fury slicing through hazy envy.

“I remember when you started this one,” she’s reminiscing. “You finally finished all of the pieces,” she says with another appreciative glance, and you grip him tighter, the skin of your knuckles pulled so taut it’s starting to hurt. “It’s so breathtaking to see them all come together.”

And you hate the way she speaks to him with a certain type of familiarity; an old friend, effortless and full of laughs, someone who knew him long before you did, when you were only in grade school.  

God, how rude of her not to introduce herself, she’s telling you as she finally turns toward you, finally takes notice of you, rooted in Touya’s side; a growth he planted there himself, shoved between his ribs and engrained in his soul, roots so tangled you’re both irremovable, inseparable, now.

She holds out her hand in greeting, but you only clutch Touya more firmly, nails scraping against starched cashmere, face half-hidden in his chest, childish and petulant. 

The woman’s smile drops from her face, a slow drooping of her mouth as her forehead crinkles, confusion bleeding through her features.

“She’s shy,” Touya says as way of explanation, but that wolfish smile is stretched sharply across his cheeks, teeth gleaming in the dim light.

“I see,” she says, almost hesitantly, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before they flit back to Touya’s face, expression brightening again. “Well, that’s alright! How long have you two been together?” 

And, oh, the giggle that bubbles past your lips is downright sinister, fucking caustic, burning your tongue and eroding your teeth. 

No, you’re not his girlfriend, or his partner, or his significant other. 

You’re something so much better. 

“Oh, we’re not a couple. This is my little sister.” 

And, oh, how this is always your favourite part.  

You know that it’s his favourite part, too. 

Because the way that shock and disgust eats through their confusion, fucking devours any other emotion on their face, is better than anything else in the entire world. The way their expression churns into something twisted and repulsed sends sordid little thrills racing through your veins, blood buzzing with adrenaline.

The two of you must be such a fucking sight, expressions handcrafted by the Devil himself,  with glowing eyes—gluttonous gazes gobbling up every little expression, two pairs wide and  frantic as they glide across her face—and smug little smirks, points of your mouths so sharp they could pierce the flesh of a fingertip if touched. 

Her voice sputters a little, snagging in her throat as she struggles to find the proper words, blinking rapidly, as if trying to clear the scene in front of her. 

“I—Uh, I didn’t know you had another little sister?” 

It’s phrased as a question, her voice beginning to tremble, unnerved as her stare swaps between your faces.

“My mom remarried,” Touya says simply. “This one came packaged with the deal.” 

He jostles you in his arms a little—showing off his favourite, precious, most coveted prize—and you cuddle into him, burrowing into his chest a little, fingers flexing in his dress shirt as you clutch him tighter, gathering healthy handfuls of cashmere in your scrunched palms, buttons beginning to strain beneath the strength of your grip. 

And he states it proudly, as if he’s glad to own you, to be your big brother, to call you his, staring down at you with so much fondness it melts his hard eyes, sapphire turned to something thick and gooey.

“Oh,” the woman responds, but her voice wavers through a wobbly smile on her face, lips unsure if they want to grin or grimace. “That’s cool.” 

“Yeah,” Touya responds, though his eyes do not leave yours, voice softening. “I got pretty fuckin’ lucky. Don’t think I could’ve asked for anything better.” 

You can feel the sick, sadistic glee radiating off of him in dense waves—something heavy, something intoxicating—and, if this girl knows him well enough, you’re sure she can, too. 

It’s so thick it’s nearly suffocating, but you breathe it in readily, greedily, draw it into your lungs and let it marinate in your tissues—infect, consume, decay. 

“We should go for drinks sometime!” her unnaturally chipper tone snaps the trance, draws both of your gazes back to her. “You know, to catch up and all that.”  

A noise shudders your ribs, something between a growl and a whine, and Touya laughs as if it’s so fucking cute, looking back down at you with so much adoration in his eyes it’s nearly spilling past his lashes.  

“Nah, I’m good,” he says, but his stare never breaks yours. “Thanks for the offer, though.” 

“Mr. Todoroki?” a smooth voice floats above the indistinct murmur of the venue. “Your table is ready.” 

“Ah, that’s us,” Touya says to you. 

“It was nice—”

But you’re already turning away, a single entity in the way you move, think, breathe, be. 

“I don’t like her,” you’re grumbling as Touya guides you toward the hostess, not caring that she’s still very clearly in earshot, the confession spilling from your mouth almost subconsciously, having pried past your lips, desperate to be heard. 

“I can tell, baby,” Touya snorts, though the smile on his face is soft. 

“I—I don’t even wanna eat here anymore,” you sulk, feet starting to drag, words filtered through a deep pout. “And I don’t ever want to see her again!” 

It comes out as a demand, a little harsher and firmer than you had intended, uncharacteristically surly, and Touya stops. 

Blinking down at you, Touya’s face falls, features suddenly serious, all mirth evaporated from his expression in an instant. 

His head dips, voice dropped to a low, dire murmur—something secret, something just for you.

“You want me to kill her for you? Huh, princess? Does niichan need to get rid of her?” 

And, oh, how your heart soars, swells, swoops then nearly bursts from your ribs, desperate to claw its way from your chest and into the palms of its owner. Tears rush to cloud your eyes, vision thick and bleary, and two large hands cup your jaw, tilting your face to his.

“I’ll do it, baby, I swear to God. All you gotta do is say the word.” 

He will. You know he will. You love that he will.

“I love you,” you nearly whimper, hands pawing at him urgently, the words a garbled mess in your mouth, weighted with spit and tears. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he laughs a little, but concern is warping his features, eyes sweeping across your face in search of an answer.

His hand squeezes your jaw gently, callouses decorating the pad of his palm scuffing your soft skin as he holds you in place. 

“Just tell niichan what he needs to do to make this better.”

Your gaze holds his for a moment, heavy and unblinking.

“Fuck me,” you finally say. “Remind me who I belong to, remind me who you belong to, remind the whole fucking world who we belong to.”

Sapphire turns to navy, lips spreading into something sinful. 

He can do that.

The parking lot is sparsely populated, rows of cars jagged and gapped like knocked out teeth. A small cluster of people hover outside the restaurant’s golden doors, encased in a hazy cloud of smoke and murmuring quietly amongst themselves, and a few people are scattered throughout the lot, just arriving or preparing to leave, but for the most part, you are alone. 

The Audi is parked near the back, narrowly missing a pool of white light from one of the tall lampposts. 

A chuckle is huffed from tattooed lips, shining eyes trained on your profile as you march toward the car, his long legs easily keeping up with your own. 

His baby is on a mission tonight. 

“You know, it’s really cute,” he’s saying as he presses you up against the driver’s door, “to see to see you so fucking determined.”

“Want everyone to know you belong to me,” you whine a little, forehead scrunching as your pout deepens. 

“Is that so?” 

“That is so.” 

“And how would you like to show everyone that niichan is yours?” he murmurs into your flesh, lips tracing the curve of your neck.

“Want—Want you to fuck me, right here.” 

“Right here?” his hips shove against yours in emphasis. “In the car?” 

“No,” your hips push back into his, back arching, already so needy for him. “Right here, in the parking lot. I want that bitch to see.”

And for once, you do not get scolded for such foul language. 

“Yeah?” Touya’s breathing into your mouth, hands already rucking up your little cocktail dress. “All out in the open where everyone can see how much of a little whore you are for your big brother?” 

“Right here, right here,” you’re nodding, words cracking with desperation. “Right now.” 

“So greedy, my little sister is.” 

“I don’t care,” you gasp. “Show them, Touya-nii, show them all.” 

And he’s so fucking hard you swear you can feel his cock throbbing with each rush of blood, each of your little pleads and dirty words sending another bout of it southward, swear you can feel it twitching and gorging with lust. 

“You don’t care, huh?” Hardened fingertips sink into the plush flesh of your ass, kneading a little as his hips gyrate in pitiful little circles, more teasing than anything else.

“No, no,” you’re shaking your head. “I want it now!” 

A palm collides with your flesh, hard and sharp, the sound echoing out among the space, chased by your resounding yelp. It draws a handful of glances from the throngs of people loitering around the restaurant’s entrance, but doesn’t keep their attention for long.

“Don’t be impatient, now,” Touya warns, but the glint in his eyes begs you to keep misbehaving. “Get my cock wet first.”

Your face falls as your fight fades, a small frown on your lips. 

“Wh-What?”

“You want my cock so badly, baby? Get it fucking wet, then.”

He pauses, watching you closely, smirk growing into something sinister when you freeze in hesitation.

“Aw, what’s wrong?” he pouts, and it’s so condescending it scathes your cheeks. “Not so bold and brave now? I thought you wanted everyone to know; I thought you wanted to show everyone who I belong to,” his tongue tuts, head shaking in mock disappointment, “and you can’t even take my cock down your throat?”

“I do,” you nearly growl, eyes flashing with sudden jealousy, uncharacteristically fierce. 

His expression softens, that sharp glint in his eye dulled to a smoldering glow, full of fondness. 

“Then get niichan’s cock wet,” he says, hips shoving against yours in emphasis again, “so he can fuck you properly.”

And although it is still very much a demand, a direct order, his voice is tender, his edges worn down by years of affection.

Sliding down his body, your fingers furl in the waistband of his suit pants and tug a little, pulling his hips closer to your face. The buckle of his belt clanks heavily as you tug it undone, the button on his trousers pops easily, and then you’re yanking them halfway down his thighs, freeing his cock.

It’s so fucking pretty, dusty pink from base to tip and smoother than the most expensive velvet, and you just can’t help but nuzzle your cheek into the head with a cute little hum, smearing a thick stroke of pearlescent pre-cum across your skin. 

But you know that Touya doesn’t like that, no matter how beautiful you look with his pre-cum slathered all over your face, that Touya can’t stand anything he deems even remotely teasing, and you’re quick to wrap a hand around the shaft as the beginnings of a growl rumble against his ribs, feeding him to yourself. 

“S’it, there you go,” he praises as you gorge on him, stuffing him down your throat in a single swallow, reflexive tears burning your eyes. 

Lashes flutter quickly, desperate to clear your vision, little drops of crystal collecting in the wispy strands. 

It’s pathetic, really, how much your heart soars with such bland praise. But it doesn’t matter, you don’t care, willing to soak up any scraps he’ll afford you, an addict endlessly chasing a fix.

You force your mouth open wider, hinges of your jaw stretching, straining, your tongue curling around the underside as you suck him in further, viscous globs of drool already beginning to collect at the corners of your lips. 

“Yeah, yeah, swallow me whole, baby,” he breathes, gaping pupils glittering with a thin ring of cobalt. “God, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this.”

A choked little whine, muted by his cockhead grinding itself into your throat, vibrates, evoking a cracked little moan of his own, hips twitching involuntarily, an instinctual reaction, searching for more.

The asphalt is rough against your knees, skinning them with superficial little scrapes as Touya fucks your mouth a few times; first slowly, breath huffed out through spit-slicked lips as he glides in steadily, inch by inch, voracious eyes watching as your wet mouth puckers around his shaft, coating it in thick, gleaming saliva.

He whimpers a little as the tip of your nose scrunches so cutely as he presses it to his pubic bone, holds it for a breath and savours the way your throat flutters with hiccups and gags before pulling nearly all the way from your mouth, repeating the process as he gains momentum; then faster, harder, cockhead rubbing against the back of your tongue, each quick stroke leaving bitter streaks of pre-cum.

And you hate how his palms are pressed against your ears, muffling every sweet sound you manage to elicit from him as he holds your head still, his thumbs pressing into your cheekbones, nails biting shallow crescents into the skin as they dig deeper, grasp tightening as your face becomes slippery with tears, cascading over his knuckles. 

Even so, his grip isn’t enough to keep the back of your skull from banging off the door of the Audi, each thrust procuring a dull thud of flesh against metal.

And, Christ, what a beautiful symphony it all creates; the rhythmic sound of your head thwacking against his car, the dainty jingle of his belt buckle, hanging heavy and undone and bouncing between your chin and his thigh, those precious gags and gurgles and sniffles and hiccups that he loves so much, choked off and snuffed out as his cock rams them back into your chest, the half-stifled sounds that keep shattering to pieces on his tongue, shards swallowed down with difficulty, scraping against the walls of his throat and leaving his voice ragged and raw. 

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” he’s panting as his fingers thread through your hair, fisting at the roots and dragging you off of him. “S’a shame, because you look so pretty,” a rough thumb skims over your swollen, glossy lip, his gaze following its trajectory. “But I wanna cum in your cunt, not your throat.” 

And then he’s pulling you back up from the ground, strong arms wedged beneath your own and hoisting you into the air, your legs instinctually wrapping around his waist, locked securely at the ankles as they hook together at the base of his spine, thighs squeezing around his hips in anticipation. 

He pins you to the metal of the Audi, one palm securely cupping your ass as the other wraps around the base of his cock, hips inching back just enough to find your hole.

The head, now slicked with your spit, glides over your clit twice—a cheeky little tease, just to hear you whine his name again, all stringy and petulant through a swollen pout—then down your slit until it catches on your hole. 

It stings as he forces himself into you, always does no matter how wet you are, no matter how much you’ve slobbered all over his shaft, because Touya routinely refuses to prep you at all—not that you would’ve let him, not tonight—because he loves it, too, he loves it just as much as you do. 

He loves the sharp little hiss pushed through the gaps of your teeth by your tongue, he loves the gentle fluttering of your cunt as your most delicate skin stretches, splits itself open for him, to suck him in and swallow him down, he loves that sweet sigh that melts from your mouth as he bottoms out, slathered over his own huff of breath, conjoined relief. 

“Touya-nii, Touya-nii,” you’re whimpering out, fingers curling against his shoulders.

“M’here, baby, m’here,” he pants out, forehead pushing against your own, eyes slipped shut. 

And for a moment everything is still, breath held stagnant in swelling lungs as you both savour this feeling—of fullness, of closeness, of wholeness—appreciation unhindered by noisy exhales or slapping skin.

Then his hips are moving, gyrating in little circles that gain speed with each completed motion, cockhead grinding into your cervix.

He can’t exactly fuck you properly like this, can’t exactly fuck you like he wants to, like he normally would, not all out in the open like this.

But he manages to make do, the pace quick right from the start, shallow fast snaps of his hips that have the buckle of his belt is clanging against his car, leaving superficial little scratches just below the door handle.

It’s all still so fucking hot, though, his forehead pressed tightly to yours as he exhales nicotine-tinged breath across your face, each one pushed from his chest with the rapid little ruts of his hips. 

It’s all so fucking naughty, fucking out in the open where anyone who’s paying more than a shred of attention can see, his movements just barely hidden by the flesh of your thighs, cushioning his hips. 

The thought that anyone could be watching, touching themselves, filming you has your muscles tightening and your stomachs fluttering, the dirty, illicit nature inspiring another rush of adrenaline to taint your blood.

Your mouth drops open, starved for more of him—never satisfied, are you, greedy lil thing—welcoming his huffs onto your tongue, spicy and sweet as hickory. Your tongue unfurls from your mouth, dumb and lazy and so fucking messy, licking at his lips in quick, uneven strokes, sopping up any remnants of his essence.

The tip slithers between his parted lips, kittenishly lapping at the edges of his teeth, tracing the sharp ridges one by one, and he laughs, warm and airy. 

His own tongue shoves against yours, pushing it from his mouth and back into it’s rightful home before he flattens the slick muscle against your face and drags it, slow and steady, from the point of you chin to the tip of your nose, leaving behind a thick, fat trail of cooling saliva painted across your face.

The action has you squealing, scrunching up your nose as you involuntarily suck your bottom lip between your teeth and suck it clean.

His scent is strong, now saturating your skin as it dries, tight and hard, on your face, sealed by the breathless little giggle he exhales across your cheeks. 

And, Christ, he’s so fucking gorgeous, strands of alabaster plastered to his forehead and stuck to his temples in scraggly strings, clumped into damp little tufts that curl up at the base of his neck, drops of sweat balancing precariously on the points. 

His rough, quick movements have them breaking free, glistening drops of sweat rolling down his puckered skin, tracing the curve of his neck, streaking ink and ivory with glimmering little trails. They pool in the dips of his collarbones and soak into the collar of his shirt, turning cashmere translucent. 

The sleek muscles in his forearms flex beneath inked skin, gliding as he readjusts his grip, holds you closer, hugs you tighter, fucks you harder. 

His whole body is covered in a sheen layer of sweat, urgently chasing that high that only his little sister can gift him, sharp pistons of his hips keeping you pinned to the car while he uses you as his personal little toy, his favourite little toy, forcing you to just take it. 

And yet, despite it all, his eyes are bright, his lips molded into a brilliant smile, a sick sort of love stained with exhilaration—the thrill of getting caught: fucking all out in the open, fucking your family—brimming in his gaze.

He’s such a fucking pro, knows you and your body better than anyone else ever has, ever could, ever will, angling his hips so they fuck you just right, each stroke of his cock an upward curve, dragging against that puffy spot buried deep within your cunt, head swiping against your cervix with each draw back.

Across the lot, that girl is fiddling with the keys to her shitty little car, rooting around for something in her bag, and Touya laughs—a loud, booming sound, heavy with deranged delight that echoes throughout the space, garnering the attention of a smattering of bystanders. 

“Look,” he nudges his head to the right, your gaze following his own, slippery cheeks pressed flush together. “She’s watching. She can see you, sweetheart—can see us, can see you’re mine and I’m yours.” 

Good. If she hadn’t already figured it out before, it should be abundantly fucking obvious now, who he belongs to. 

“She—She looks disgusted,” you snicker. 

Even from several meters away, she does, you can tell, face twisted up somewhere between horror and shock, eyes wide and unblinking as they scan your conjoined forms, brow scrunched and chest beginning to heave.

She looks like she’s going to be sick.

You hope she is.

“Oh, she doesn’t even know—fuck—the half of it, does she?” Touya keens, hips faltering for just a moment before regaining their momentum. “Why don’t we give her something to really be repulsed by?” 

Yes, yes, yes, you’re nodding your head, little mewls of affirmation spilling from your throat.

“Give your big brother a kiss, then.” 

And oh, how eager you are, ever his good girl, ever his best girl, arms tightening around his neck as you pull yourself closer, smashing your lips to his. Dainty fingers thread through the hair at the back of his scalp, soaked with salt, and tug harshly, enough to have a reactionary hiss slipping through his teeth. 

Using the opportunity, you suck his bottom lip into your mouth between your teeth, clamp down hard and yank backwards, so hard his lip stretches like shimmering, pink bubblegum, gums beginning to strain until it finally slides free of your hold, teeth scraping against flesh. He spits out a curse, muddled and chased by a laugh, tongue laving over the indents you left, now weeping copper.

“Niichan’s gonna get you back for that one,” he says, sadistic glee shimmering in his eyes almost as pretty as the crimson glazing his mouth. 

You’re sure he will, too, later tonight, with that cherished knife you gifted him last year.

The giggle that pours past your lips is fucking raucous, leaves your tongue sticky and tingling, so wicked it rivals your brother. 

“I wanna show her, niichan,” you’re panting out, voice fading into a whine. “I want to show her that you’re mine.” 

“Do it, baby,” he breathes. “Show the whole world how fucking gorgeous you look cumming for your big brother.”

Three more rapid pumps of his hips and you’re convulsing around him, cunt clenching almost viciously around his cock as your heat gushes down his shaft, sticky and messy and so much, so much it pools in the folds of his heavy balls, so much it streams down his taut thighs and soaks the waistband of his trousers, so much it dribbles down the metal of the Audi, smeared across the door in sloppy strokes.

“Mi-Mine,” you growl, thighs squeezing around him as if you’re attempting to milk more juices from yourself, trying to stain him with you and stake your claim. 

“Yeah,” he nearly moans, hips beginning to stutter. “Yours, baby, niichan’s yours. Tell him again.” 

“You’re mine!” you sob out, nails gripping the sleek muscle of his shoulders with such strength the joints of your fingers crack and ache, clawing at him as if you’re trying to gorge every part of you on him, eat up every piece of him you can, stuff every bit of you as full of him as physically possible. 

“Fu-Fuck,” he keens, the curse shattering in his throat. “That’sa—That’s my good girl.”

He’s close now, you can tell; can hear it in the way his words keep splintering on his tongue, can feel it in the way his thrusts have gone from precise and particular to loose and sloppy, an urgent, uneven rutting of his hips.

“Fill me, fill me, fill me with your cock, niichan,” you’re gasping out, scrabbling at his neck, scraping skin and sweat beneath your nails. “Fill me with your cum, fill me so much, fill me until I can’t take anymore and it starts le-leaking out, all—all over the place.” 

And, well, he’s never been one to deny his precious baby sister what she wants. 

Because then he’s complying, hips stammering to a halt and pressed flush to your ass as his cock throbs, stuffing you full of thick, burning cream. 

“More! More, more,” you’re gasping out as you try to fuck yourself on his twitching cock, desperate to pump him for everything he’s got to give, eliciting a breathless, broken little laugh falling from his lips. 

“S’all yours,” he manages to slur out, slumping a little against his car, knees beginning to quiver as his cock strives to please you, giving another weak spurt of cum. “S’all yours, princess, always.” 

[nmakii]

Yan Alastor when he sees his kids arrive in hell? The family is soon to be back together again!!? I need some angst! The family drama is crazy, and im all for it.

Also i hope you’re doing okay! Sending you some supportive vibes!! Remember to take care of yourself and take breaks!

Ps: Al would totally forgive his daughter of his death and compliment her daughters aim.

STUCK WITH U?

[you should prob read the story first!]

— reunited with your children years after your death, something strange happened.

hello, nonnie!! im doing well as long as u guys r enjoying this story 🥰💕

beloved mother, wife, and daughter

resting beside her love, may her soul find his in the afterlife

if you tried to be optimistic, hell wasn’t so bad. you never had to worry much for the exterminations. nor, did you have to worry about being harassed on the streets of hell by various sinners. after all, alastor was there to protect you.

but despite that, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t tear you down to make you compliant.

you sat in a corner of alastor’s broadcast tower as he brutally tore apart another overlord. and as he went off the air, he turned to you. “are you enjoying yourself, my doe?” he asked. “i don’t understand why i have to be here…” you said, mentally hurling from his new pet name. “you’re so delicate, my love. one trip and you could break! i have to be there to make sure you’re well at all times.” he cooed to you. “stop patronizing me, alastor. i won’t let you take away my dignity.” you glared at him. “darling, i may not own your soul. but, you are still my wife. you are mine, understand?” he explained, walking to you.

you didn’t respond to him, refusing to let him degrade your self worth. to this, he grew angry— grabbing you by your jaw and scalp, his claws scratching against your porcelain skin, lovingly yet still rough, as if he thought it was for your own good. “i said, do you understand?”

his face came close to your’s as he kept a tight grip on your hair, waiting for your answer. your fight or flight response was sending signals and going haywire as you tried to pull away from his touch. “yes— gh, let go of me, alastor. please…” you begged as he finally let go. “good girl.”

and just then, an awfully convenient knock came from the door. a man with lamb-like features peered through the door. “and, who might you be?” alastor raised an eyebrow to the man. “so it’s true… d-dad..! it’s me!” the familiar voice said. could it be?

“noah— is that you..?” you asked. you hoped it wasn’t him, that he didn’t end up in hell. but at the same time, you wished to see your son one more time so badly. “momma, it’s me!” he smiled, hugging you and alastor tightly. “ah, my boy…” alastor sighed. “you’re so much older than your old man now, huh?” he remarked. but then, it hit you, he was dead.

“wh— dear, what happened, how did you die?” you asked. “killed in action, ma. guess i should’ve just retired already…” he joked. “oh, my son…” alastor grinned.

and things were normal— at least, as normal as they could be with your deranged husband. things stayed as they were for 13 years.

when rumor spread of a mysterious man-eating sinner— she uses them to build her power, and then she drops them like dirt trash. she’s amassed so much power, she’s certainly a threat to alastor’s power. if he couldn’t get rid of her, perhaps he could keep her under his thumb.

“well, how do you do, sweetheart? alastor, pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure! this over here is my darling wife!” alastor introduced both him and yourself to the older woman with features that resembled a coyote. “alastor..? is that you, dad?” the honey-like voice asked.

alastor’s eyes had widened as he realized the woman in front of him. “little emi, is that you?” emilia reached out to hug the both of you. she aged beautifully, still as charming as she was the day you died.

“oh, my pretty girl, you’ve made quite the name for yourself down here in hell, hm?” alastor grinned at his daughter. “i learned from the best!” she laughed back.

and as they conversed, you felt like an odd man out. as if alastor was talking to his own clone. given, she is her father’s daughter after all.

“darling! our little emi is here, our little family is reunited at last.” alastor grinned to you. “this calls for a celebration, don’t you think? why don’t we have a special dinner tonight?” he suggested. by his tone, the only thing you could think of would be that he wants to have another sinner served on the dinner table. “i-i don’t know…” you shook your head in disagreement. “now don’t be such a negative nancy!” he laughed. “i’ll cook a feast tonight!” he declared, taking emilia to your home in hell.

and, just as you suspected, he served the flesh of a fellow overlord, fillet mignon style. “come now, dear, eat!” alastor said, encouraging you to take a bite. “no thank you… i’m not hungry.” you frowned, shaking your head. alastor looked frustrated as you denied him. “eat.” he said, shoving the meat into your mouth.

you felt sick. but, as he shoved it down your throat, you had no choice but to swallow. “delicious, isn’t it?” he asked. your stomach churned, the guilt settling in your gut. it tasted disgusting. but, as much as you wanted to protest, you were scared of what he’d do if you disagreed. “yes… it is— delicious.” he grinned. “lovely.”

and so, your family dynamic had returned to as it had 47 years ago. back to normal… that is, until that odd day.

you woke up in your bed, as per usual. and, there was a note where alastor should be. not that you weren’t grateful he wasn’t there though.

‘leaving for a sabbatical, you know overlord work! i’ll be home very soon, my doe. kisses and love.

~ A’

sabbatical, huh? he’ll be gone for quite a while, a year at most? and, without alastor, you’re free. it felt as if breathing fresh air for the first time. even if just for a year or so, you won’t have to be on his leash anymore. all would be well now, right?

right..?

but with your freedom, alastor’s protection was gone. sinners started to harass you. and without the company of emilia, you could do nothing but withstand it.

this is all apart of being free. might as well enjoy it until alastor returned, right? make the most of the year.

or, seven years.

[papurgaatika]

You're Good To Me, Baby

kinktober prompt one: Mommy Kink

Pairing: Joel Miller x F! reader

Minors DNI with my work please!!

A/N: HOWDY HOWDY AND WELCOME TO MY FAVORITE MONTH !!! *EAGLE SCREECH NOISE*

Happy kinktober everyone, this is from the absolute depths of my soul and pussy. Joel miller, you are my everything, and i know the fellow tumblerinas are horny for you. Again, hozier song lyric for the title, wow who’s shocked. Thank you to my beloved beta reader my beloved @carlynkurin!! Peace and love from me everyone!

Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!!

Tags: mommy kink, praise kink, edging kinda, sub!Joel miller, soft reader, jackson joel. Reader is able bodied but no other description

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: Joel was perfect in your eyes and you’re determined to have him see himself like that

main masterlist

kinktober masterlist

Joel is a grumpy old man. You love him more than you love air, and he loves you more than you thought was humanly possible. Unfortunately, he doesn’t see the good you see in him. He shines like gold in your eyes, like a beacon of warmth that keeps you safe. It wasn’t unusual for you to give him a compliment and fluster him; a peck on the jaw, a casual “look real good today, honey” or a wordless conversation in bed as you just gaze at him. With all of those came his refusal to listen, however. A blush creeping on his cheeks, a scoff pointed at your words, or a grumble to get to sleep. It wasn't what you wanted. You wanted him to see himself how you do. To see how perfect he was for you, to understand truly, and you would make him see it by any means necessary.

You were always a schemer, always had something up your sleeve to catch Joel off guard and he knows that very well. But during a late-night makeout session with your hips slotted perfectly around his, he couldn't seem to care about stopping you. Joel should have known better, should have anticipated your plot, but his mind had been cloudy, his brain turned off while his dick was hard. That’s how he found himself tied to your shared bed, arms bound above his head while you straddled his legs.

“Come on baby,” you hum at him, his cock leaking through his underwear “I'm not touching you until you say you’re perfect” Your voice was sickly sweet as you cooed at him, almost like you were talking to a frightened animal, coaxing it towards safety. But Joel was stubborn as a mule, not that you didn’t love it, but he would refuse until the end of time. He wouldn’t, no couldn't admit it. Not to you, and definitely not to himself. So instead he just strains against the rope, trying to get any sort of friction against his aching cock. Practically begging with those eyes of his. “Baby come on,” you whisper, kissing his cheek as your nose brushes his as you move a piece of hair from his sweaty forehead “Just say it for me, I know you can be good for me, i know you want to be good”

He's holding out longer than you thought he would if you were being frank. The muscles in his arms were straining against the rope, and his teeth were gritted, but you could see the cogs turning in his mind. The choice looming over him was taking its toll, and you were about to win. “Oh, my sweet pretty boy” you coo, your fingers gently trailing over his cheek, a hoarse moan leaving his lips at the praise you give him. You watch with a raised eyebrow as he pulls at the ropes, tilting your head with a slight smirk on your lips. “You know better than to do that baby, I tie a good knot come on” you chide. You watch as he tugs at them again, knowing if he really wanted to get out, he would have been out already, but he liked this almost as much as you did. Almost.

You tsk at him and roll your hips against his gently, a barely there movement, so light he could have been imagining it, but the gasp that it pulls out of him is very real. “You ain’t playin fair darlin” he groans, no, pleads, when he feels another grind of your body against his. His hips instinctively try to get some friction and grind up into you but you tut at him, stopping him in an instant.

You move so that your body straddles the lower half of his tummy, the feel of his happy trail grazing your thighs. “Come on Joel, you know the rules better than that, tell me what you need” you hum, watching the pout on his face grow tenfold, and god he was so pretty when he was desperate. He makes a desperate noise, pulling at the ropes and hips bucking into the air again as you give him a small pout of your own. Your features are dripping with faux pity as you let out a dramatic sigh and swing your legs off from around him and stand up next to the bed. “S’pose you don't know what it is then..” you muse, watching his eyes grow wider at the sight of you moving from him. “I’ll let you stay here and think about it, yeah?” you press a teasing little kiss to the corner of his lips, your hand trailing down his chest, before your touches stop and you turn to walk away.

You stretch your arms out over your head, giving him a view of your curves as you sway your hips slightly, walking to the door of the bedroom before you hear a rushed “Wait no I'll say it-”

Jackpot

No matter how damn stubborn Joel was, you knew what made him tick. He was a man, after all, a man who truly loves your ass, and you would use that to your advantage. “I’m…” he takes a deep breath like the words were refusing to come out of his mouth “I’m your perfect boy..”

The words are hushed and hurried, but he had said them and that’s what you wanted. You move to go back and sit on the bed next to him, your hand pushing his hair back off of his forehead. “I know you are baby… always so perfect and pretty for me, yeah?” The words ring through his ears like a choir of angels, a needy whine leaving his lips as he stares at you with big puppy dog eyes “Okay baby, go on now, what do you need from me hmm?” You coo at him, watching him with kind eyes. “I’m all yours, use your words and it's yours.”

He lets out another shaky breath at the devotion in your words “Touch me... Please touch me Mommy” You loved Joel in all instances, the good and the bad, the hard and easy times, but there was something special about how much you loved when he called you that. Knowing that he trusts you enough to take charge of his pleasure, that he’ll say things that are so hard for him to admit just because you want him to start to believe them.

Your fingers graze over his chest, feather-like touches barely skimming the goosebumps that formed on his skin. “I am touching you, honey,” you murmur.

“Not what I meant,” he whines, trying to find some give in the ropes.

“Be specific then,” you mumble, your fingers running over his collarbone. “Use your words properly.” Sure you were being a little mean to him, but hearing him ask was better than giving in so quickly, it was about the power.

“Mommy I-” his words are whiney and pleading with you “hands, mouth, anything. Just want you to make me cum please I’ll be good I swear I-” you cut his rambled begging off with a small shhh, a small laugh and smile leaving your lips as you press a kiss against his lips. You hum softly as you let your hands trail down his chest, your nails grazing over his skin lightly, enjoying the slight hiss he lets out at the sensation, and then let your hand settle at the waistband of his boxers. You tease them down, painfully slow, and feel him tense up under your touch and just let your fingers trace over his thighs. Up and down, and up and down, never really touching him.

“Mommy please-” his words are hoarse as you tease him, needy with anticipation.

“Okay baby, okay, I'm sorry” you whisper, laughing. It was a soft sound he’ll never get over that makes Joel feel like he's the luckiest man alive, it makes his heart burst every single time. His mind is pulled from that thought as your fingers wrap around his cock and stroke him agonizingly slow, his precum coating your fingers as you swipe them over his head listening to his moans. Your grip wasn't tight, just soft lazy strokes that left his hips bucking into your fist. Broken pleas of baby please, I need more leave his mouth in desperation, as you just hum in response, letting your pace grow just a little faster. You smiled as a hoarse moan fell from his mouth, your free hand going to brush the curls out of his forehead.

“You're doing so good for me baby, look so perfect like this. All mine.” He looked absolutely wrecked. His hips were rolling into yours and his head was thrown back, quiet whimpers and moans leaving his lips. You could tell he was close. His breaths were coming out in pants and a plea of please, please, please- leaving his lips, barely coherent.

Your pace picked up again bringing him so close to the edge “Do you want to cum baby? Is that what you want, sweet boy?” You were relishing the way his hips continued to chase your touch, cock red and angry

“Yes- fuck yes Mommy please I need it I want to” he was gasping at you, panting and trembling with need as he held on for you. You could be mean, make him wait and hold on. You've edged him before, but god he was being so good for you tonight, and you wanted nothing if not his pleasure.

“Let me hear it one more time and you can cum, baby” you whisper, voice like a gentle breeze “Tell me what you are, and you can get what you want”

Every muscle in his body is tense as he staves off his orgasm “I’m- fuck, I’m your perfect boy mommy” he cries out, voice quavering as his orgasm wracks through him. He spills onto your hand and his stomach with panting breaths, his legs shaking as you milk him through it until he’s telling you to stop.

“So good… absolutely perfect for me..” you whisper, swiping your tongue over the cum on your hand and licking a stripe up his happy trail. He lets out a guttural noise at your actions, eyes pressing shut as he regains his composure and catches his breath.

“Yer a menace, darlin” he murmurs after a moment, his eyes still closed but a lazy smirk plastered to his face.

You simply make a small noise of acknowledgement and kiss his head, “yeah, but you're perfect” you hum, undoing his rope “Always have been baby.”

A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free

READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. Silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist.

PLEASE READ THIS, AND REBLOG THIS.

Thank you for reading, and free Palestine

[scekrex]

Hi! I hope you’re doing well!!!

I just read your Adam x Lucifer’s son fic and I loved it a lot more than I thought I would going in (that sounded really backhanded but I definitely don’t mean it that way 😭)

I was thinking of a part 2 that takes place literally just a few minutes after the 1st, Lucifer basically gave Adam a few… let’s say corrective love taps. And now the reader is patching up his now bruised face. Reader try’s to make Adam feel better by complimenting him and flirting with him. (I know damn well Adam is such a hoe for genuine affection like-)

Cut to Lucifer sitting across the room eyeing you both, now realizing that his son is in love with THE FIRST MAN and Adam is ALSO in love with his son. To put it simply, he is kinda freaking out. He now refuses to leave them alone together for the rest of the day, and also the unseeable future! He starts listing the reasons why the Reader should very much not being dating Adam. (Would be funny if he also mentioned the age gap as if he didn’t date a newly born woman as a who knows how old Angel LMAO) And Adam is like “Bitch, I’m am literally right the fuck here.”

Lucifer is just really activating his overprotective dad mode. That is… until Charlie really needs his help with something for the hotel. He eventually (albeit reluctantly) agrees to leave to help because he thinks “I’ll be quick, it’s just what? 5 minutes? And I’ll be in the room just a few doors down!”

He leaves and Adam, who for some motherfucking reason, can’t stop thinking about all the things Lucifer said to you about him and starts thinking ‘Maybe he’s right’ and starts just getting in his head about it

Reader finishes up patching his face and can tell he’s thinking about what Luci said. He reassures him that he loves no one else but Adam and that what his dad thinks is irrelevant. Reader gives Adam a kiss before asking. “Anyways, you ready to go?”

“The fuck you mean? Go where?

“I mean… how else are we going to finish what we started?”

And the was one of the first times the reader managed to make Adam flustered. Needless to say, Adam and the reader weren’t there when Lucifer returned. Much to Lucifer’s anger.

Nah man ur good, I wasn't the biggest fan at first too but y'know, it's kinda cute. Also u didn't specify anything about Reader and Adam having sex so I kept this SFW, my inbox is temporarily closed but if ya want a sequel that's basically just smut, lemme know once my inbox is open again!

Part 1

My lover's the sunlight to keep the Goddess on my side

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you

“Was that really necessary, dad?” you grumbled as you pressed a ball of cotton against Adam’s lip - Adam’s bleeding lip. Lucifer hadn't been too fond of the view he had been greeted with when entering the room. The brunette’s bottom lip was split open, his nose was bleeding and his eye was slowly turning black again. Adam had just recovered from the stabbing injuries Niffty had caused and now he was covered in bleeding wounds once again. A thing that surely did surprise you and that you wanted to look deeper into once the situation was less tense, was the fact that Adam’s blood was still golden. His blood had remained pure and angelic and while you partly understood why, it did make you curious.

Adam hissed in pain as your fingers gently traced along his nose, checking if it was just bleeding or if it was broken - Adam was lucky because your father had actually managed to break the former angel’s nose.

Lucifer was sitting on an armchair across the room, watching the gentle touches his son offered Adam, he didn’t like that they got along and he hated that they seemed so in love, so all over each other. Lucifer knew Adam, well that wasn’t entirely true. Lucifer had known Adam once, back in Eden when everything had been so new and exciting for pretty much everybody. Back then Adam had been a kind and loving soul, but that soul was no longer comparable to the man that was sitting on his son’s bed, bleeding divine blood onto the covers while his son basically sat in Adam’s lap and took care of the injuries.

“Yes, it was necessary, someone needed to teach him a lesson,” Lucifer answered your question, sounding quite bitter. And partly you were able to understand your father, he had history with Adam - history that did not end well at all but the man whose lap you were sitting on seemed almost innocent. You were very aware that Adam was the last person to describe as innocent and sweet though.

“My poor angel,” you hummed as you leaned in a little closer, carefully stopping the bleeding of Adam’s nose before inspecting the broken bone a little closer - it was nothing you couldn’t fix, that was for sure. It would heal just fine, it just needed time. With gentle hands you cupped Adam’s face and kissed his stubbled chin, causing the brunette to shiver lightly. Adam was not used to gentle touches, yes, he had been spending quite some time with you ever since his people had left him behind, but that didn’t mean he got used to affectionate touches like those you offered him - that didn’t mean he disliked them, quite the opposite was the case, he lived for your gentle touches and soft words. You somehow always found something to praise the brunette for.

Adam hummed in agreement, nodding his head lightly to underline the sound. “Don’t you worry, I’ll fix you up in no time,” you added, satisfied that there was no more blood dripping from Adam’s nose.

Lucifer growled from where he was sitting, not pleased with how close you were to Adam’s face - well, actually he wasn’t pleased that you were close to Adam at all. You shot your father a glare over the brunette’s shoulder. “You’re responsible for his injuries so shut up,” you hissed at the blonde king.

The king of Hell simply rolled his eyes at your words, “Yeah, well you shouldn’t be dating Adam - date whoever you want, I don’t care if they’re female, non-binary or male, just don’t date him.” Lucifer pointed towards Adam who seemed not very happy about how lowly Lucifer spoke about him. Sure, they had their issues with each other, but why was it such a big deal to the blonde that the first man and the prince of Hell had a thing for each other?

“Y’know, first of all he’s a maniac, he literally used to kill our people,” Lucifer started to list reasons why you should stay away from the brunette, you could only raise an eyebrow at your father, “Oh our people? The people you ignored for only God knows how long? Those people you’re supposed to rule but instead of doing so you simply let them rot?” You felt how the first man’s hands came to rest on your hips, gently patting them signaling you that he liked your answer. Lucifer huffed.

“Okay what about the fact that he’s manipulative and controlling?” The blonde king tried again, nodding his head towards Adam. “Dad,” you said, looking at Lucifer, you seemed quite unimpressed by his words, “Mom’s book is trash, Adam was told to keep Lilith on a leash, he was supposed to look out for her and stop her from being absolutely self destructive and reckless.”

The blonde king tried it yet again, his problem was not that Adam was a man, his problem was that Adam was Adam, “Okay but what about the age gap? He’s like so much older than you are, sweety,” you cringed at the nickname your father gave you and playfully slapped Adam’s chest as you felt a chuckle vibrating through his body. “Says the guy who fucked the first woman a couple days after her fucking creation,” Adam huffed, turning his head around to face Lucifer.

The short king was about to argue yet again, but Charlie interrupted him by opening the door without knocking, something that was very unlike her since she valued privacy. Your sister’s eyes watched you and Adam for a moment, she shot you a quick, reassuring smile before heading towards your father, who was still sitting in that stupid armchair, observing you and Adam like the both of you were little children.

“I’m sorry for bursting in without knocking,” Charlie apoligzed, sounding quite stressed about whatever was going on elsewhere in the hotel, it wasn’t that you cared all that much. Not when you were seated in Adam’s lap and Charlie was a great distraction for Lucifer’s sharp eyes. “Don’t sweat it, dollface,” Adam simply responded, shrugging his shoulders as he spoke, “You’re not the fucking first, seems to be a fucking family issue you have there.” Your sister spun around in confusion, frowning at the first man who simply rested his chin on your head and grinned at her. “Uh… yeah… no, what I came here for is actually,” the blonde girl turned back towards the king of Hell, “Dad, I really need your help.”

Lucifer shook his head, nodding towards you and Adam, “I can't leave them alone sweety.” Charlie glanced over at how you were seated in Adam's lap, patching up the wounds your father had caused. The blonde girl sighed, then returned her attention to Lucifer who was still watching you and the brunette very closely. “It's urgent, Valentino-” at the name of the pimp Lucifer perked up, he knew Valentino meant no good and the fact that Charlie was mentioning him in context with the fact that she needed his help with something only made it worse in his eyes. “I think I can spare a few minutes to deal with Valentino,” Lucifer grumbled, not exactly happy leaving you with Adam, yet he knew his daughter wouldn't ask if it wasn't important.

He got up from the armchair, twirled his cane and tapped it on the floor once it was right side up again. “Let's make this quick.”

You watched as your father and your sister left the room to deal with said Valentino problem. As soon as the door fell shut you stopped hiding the grin and looked up at Adam, who seemed to be thinking about something - most likely all the harsh words your father had said. A small sigh left you as you cupped Adam's face once again, looking deeply into struggling golden eyes. “Don't take his words to heart he's… a little overprotective when it comes to his youngest son,” you hummed at Adam, the grin on your lips turned into a soft smile as you caressed Adam's cheek with your thumb. “Besides, we have to get going before he comes back.”

The brunette frowned at your words, his concern about all the things Lucifer had said was replaced by confusion, “Get going? Where the fuck do you wanna go?” You glanced to the door, then back at Adam. The first man followed your eyes and the confusion cleared up rather quickly. “Somewhere where we can continue what we started without dad interrupting us.”

-

When Lucifer returned to your room only five minutes later the room was empty. Nothing had changed except for the fact that Adam was no longer sitting on your bed with you in his lap. Lucifer cursed under his breath and just as he was about to go seek for you and the first man, he heard moans coming from one of the other rooms, those soft sounds of pleasure caused the devil to stop in his tracks immediately.

The moans echoing through the hotel came from Adam.