#the idea has always enamoured me

[seiwas]

@soumies @crysugu

intoxicating | nanami kento

He's not the type of guy who picks up strange women at the bar. He's not really even the type of guy who goes to bars in the first place, but when his friends drag him along for a night out, he's glad he accepted their invitation- especially when he sees you.

Tags: f!reader, alcohol use for both nanami and reader, hooking up, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving); 2.8k words. a repost from an old blog. divider by @/saradika

Nanami is quiet most of the time. It's nothing new, really. He's rarely talkative or loud, and anyone can tell that each word he speaks, he chooses carefully. Not because it's hard for him to voice his thoughts, but because he believes there's no need to waste anything. Time, money, emotions, food– everything has a purpose, a use. Even people. He's no-nonsense with it all.

Until he meets you.

He doesn't quite understand the pull you have, the way you made him suddenly stutter and forget how to use his tongue. And his brain. It infuriates him, if he's being totally honest, and he doesn't quite know what to do with the sound of your voice in such close proximity. He watches the shape of your mouth as you smile and laugh across the restaurant, deep in some titillating conversation with your girlfriends at the bar. Under the soft, yellow glow of the lights strung across the ceiling, you look like some kind of angel, and he finds that right there and then, he has to know you. 

"...what do you think, Kento?" His companion smirks, cocky and totally aware that he isn't paying the least bit of mind to the conversation at their table. "Pretty crazy, right?"

Nanami nods absently, loosening his tie because he suddenly feels like he's suffocating. The room is too hot, the conversation too loud, the wine has gone to his head. 

“Which one?” Gojo asks, following Nanami’s line of sight to where you sit, leaning against your best friend, laughing loudly at something the bartender said. His eyes flit to Nanami’s, then back to you. “Ahhh, she’s a cutie. Well don’t be weird– go say hi!” he says with a swift clap to Nanami’s back. 

Nanami clears his throat and reaches for his wine. “No,” he counters, though it’s all he can do to keep himself in his chair at this point. Your laughter rings out again, and he shifts his posture. It’s intoxicating. 

“If you don’t, I will!” Gojo says, and the others in his party roll their eyes and laugh lightly. He talks a big game, but he’ll respect his friends. Most of the time.

Nanami pushes his chair away from the table and claims a need to use the restroom, but his companions know he’s lying. Of course, he does head that way first. To piss, to wash his hands, to straighten his tie and scrub his face. He grips the counter and leans toward the mirror. Get a hold of yourself, he thinks, then takes a deep breath and tries to be as casual as possible as he reenters the restaurant, taking a detour to where you sit. Conveniently, there’s a space beside where you and your friends have gathered, and he leans his side against the bar, flagging down the bartender to order something stronger. Gentleman’s Jack. Neat. His back is to you, but he smells your perfume and his head spins again. The bartender brings his drink and Nanami tells him to keep the change as he slides a bill across the counter. He notices your conversation has taken on a hushed tone, and one of your friends tells you not-so-subtly to turn around. 

He stands and takes a step back, turning slightly toward you, drink in hand. Up close, you’re even more stunning. Your eyes are a little glassy from the drinks you’ve had and your smile is syrupy and easy, but he’s certain he’s never seen anyone more beautiful in his entire life. He almost hates himself for it– he’s not a man who gets hung up on physical appearances, but there’s something undeniably magnetic about you. 

You look at the crystal tumbler in his hand and giggle, lifting your own drink in a mock toast. “You’re a whiskey man, huh? It suits you.” You wink, and his breath hitches in his throat. 

“I’m spending the evening with an insufferable friend. I needed something strong to cope.” It’s the most he’s spoken all evening, but he’s not going to admit that to you.

It makes you laugh. “I like your honesty,” you say, tipping your glass against his before chugging what’s left. He watches your limp wrist push it back across the bar. 

“Need another?” he offers, raising a hand to flag down the bartender again.

You scoff, but your smile says otherwise. “Are you trying to get me drunk, misterrrr…”

“Nanami. Kento. And no. I think you’re doing a good job of that yourself,” he says. It’s quick and pointed, and your friends have suddenly become very interested in each other’s shoes. 

“Well, I’m pleased to meet you.” You tell him your name, then prop your elbow on the bar, leaning into the palm of your hand as you look up at him. “I’d love another drink, thanks.”

From across the room, Gojo flips Nanami the bird and sticks out his tongue.

“I’ve never seen you here before, Mr. Nanami. Kento.” You giggle and cross your legs, sitting up a little straighter when your drink is delivered. “Are you from around here?”

He nods and sits on the stool next to yours; one whiff of his cologne, and you’re glad you’re sitting down, too. “I don’t get out much these days.”

“A homebody. I bet you’re one of those guys who doesn’t see the use in going out and spending money when there’s food in the fridge, aren’t you?” Your tongue is loose, and you’re just spouting now, making any kind of conversation with this attractive stranger just to keep his interest. There’s a fleeting little pinprick of worry that you’re being obnoxious, but by the way he’s looking at you, he doesn’t seem to mind.

“An astute observation. What else do you know about me?” he says, a gentle smirk blooming on his lips.

Feigning deep thought, you press a finger to your lips and narrow your eyes. “Hmm…you’re also not the type to pick up pretty girls at bars you never go to, right?”

He stares at you for a moment, then nods, taking a long swig of his whiskey. “Right again.”

“I like this game,” you say, wiggling a little on your stool, a giddy, drunken giggle bubbling up from your chest. One of your friends tickles your back a little– a question, a need for reassurance that you’re alright. You reach behind and squeeze her fingers, pulsing twice. I’m fine, you say without speaking. She squeezes back and releases, nodding to your other friend with a smile and a wink. “Tell me something about myself.”

Nanami watches the exchange, glad that you have friends who are concerned for your safety. He likes that you have a language of your own that doesn’t require words. There are many other ways to communicate, and he appreciates the quiet ones most of all. “You’re careful– maybe too careful sometimes. You drink to take the edge off. Sometimes you take yourself too seriously.” His brown eyes meet your own, and he smirks. “How did I do?”

Slack jawed, you stare at him. You hold his gaze while you take a drink, then wipe the back of your hand over your mouth. It smears your lipstick, and he reaches over, thumbing it off your cheek. At first, you flinch, but you watch him carefully. “Good,” you say. There isn’t much else you need to say.

At least not with your words.

He doesn't make a habit of picking up women in bars. He is, however, the type of man that once he has his sights set on something, he doesn't give up easily. Thankfully, you've cut to the chase and shown him just how much you like him, which makes him feel a little less guilty for walking you back to his place.

"Are you sure-" he begins, and you cut him off with a firm press of your lips to his, all drunken courage and playful tongue, your hands already slipping under the soft cotton of his button down shirt. There's a cool brick wall at his back, and it makes for delicious contrast to your warm hands. 

Seems you're pretty sure. This, too, makes his guilt a little less heavy. He slides his arms around your waist, broad, strong hands fanning out across your lower back as he bends you back a little your way, deepening the kiss. You squeal onto his tongue and nibble his lower lip. This is reckless for you, too, but your friends wouldn't have let you go if they didn't trust him.

"He's gorgeous."

"So what if he's gorgeous, is he sane?"

"I think he's alright. I didn't get any weird vibes."

"Expensive suit! And he's really well spoken."

"Big hands…"

"Yeah. Wonder what he could do with those."

"My apartment is up ahead," he says, all grit and anticipation. The sounds of traffic blend in with your ragged breathing. The street lamp overhead buzzes and blinks, and the rowdy sounds of other bar goers add to the overall chaos of this entire situation. You're not in your right mind, but nothing has ever felt so right in your entire life. Nanami takes your hand and walks with you. Calm, cool, seemingly collected, while a stormy desire builds inside.

Up six steps, a key in the lock, a slam of the door, and he's got pinned against the door, legs wrapped around his waist, one of your heels dangling from your foot. He takes you apart with his mouth; every inch of skin he's able to reach is covered in ravenous kisses. Fleetingly you think he wants to eat you– quite literally consume you from the outside in. There isn't much left for you to do except hang on for the ride, and you can already tell by the way he's acting that it's going to be a wild one. 

"Hang on tight," he says, gripping the underside of your thighs to carry you off to his bedroom. You take the opportunity to give him a little gift on his neck to remember you by. His hiss when you bite down is delightfully satisfying, and he responds by gripping the meat of your thigh a little harder.

His bedroom is minimalistic. You really hadn't paid much attention to the main living area, but now that you're sitting on the edge of his bed, watching him shrug out of his expensive suit jacket, you notice that he has great taste. Clean lines, warm lighting, solid colors. There's a single leopard print pillow on the bed, and you laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. 

“It matches your tie,” you giggle as you lean back and toss the pillow at him from where he stands at the foot of the bed. If he’s trying to look intimidating, he’s doing a piss poor job. He catches the pillow and studies it with care, an amused grin curling on his kiss-swollen lips. 

“Everybody needs a little pizzazz their life, wouldn’t you agree?”

When he drops the pillow and crawls over you, you don’t see it coming. You were about to say something witty in return, but it’s lost when he pushes his tongue into your mouth and rolls his abdomen down on you; God, his body is warm and firm and you want to just sink your teeth in and get a taste, but it seems Mr. Nanami has other plans. 

He takes his time peeling off your dress, your bra, the pretty silk panties you’d picked out. He saves your thigh highs for last, rolling them down your legs and following the exposed skin every inch of the way with his mouth. He lifts your ankle with delicate care and looks you straight in the eye before kissing his way back up your leg. 

“You’re a work of art,” he murmurs, and you know he means it. And when he lifts just behind your knees to rest your legs on his shoulders and push his mouth against your pussy, you’re certain that he’ll make you feel like one, too. 

He takes his time, this mysterious not-quite-stranger, making sure to spend extra time on the places that have you fisting his bedsheets in your hands, crying out his name amid a string of sacreligious curses. He follows every dip and buck of your hips, remaining buried in your slick until you’re crying for mercy; one orgasm, then another in quick succession. 

“Had enough?” he chuckles. When he presses a curious thumb against your clit, you jolt and shake and push his head away with your foot. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

You need him on you, over you, inside you so badly your body aches. He’s quick to oblige before you can even get the words out, dominating your space and your thoughts by claiming your mouth in another mind-numbing kiss. This one tastes like you– warm and slick, but his hand is on your cheek and it’s so intimate it brings tears to your eyes. His cock rubbing against your leg feels huge, and when you reach down to stroke him, you’re pleasantly surprised when your hand barely spans the girth. 

“Is that enough for you, gorgeous?” 

A choked laugh is your reply, along with a tilt of your hips and a swipe of your tongue up and over his prominent Adam’s apple. You find a word, too. Just one. “Plenty.”

He eases in, slowly, experimentally even. He’s watching your face for any signs of pain or discomfort, because he knows his size, and though he's never experienced it himself, he's been clawed at and cursed thoroughly by past lovers who pleaded with him to go easy. He's big, for sure. But you've never felt more full. It's heavy and velvety smooth and nestled perfectly inside you, and you're not sure you really ever want to be anywhere else that isn't here. 

"Ready?" He is, and he moves without waiting you to reply. Feeling you quiver around him makes him borderline angry. He needs to move, and he needs to move now. He needs the friction, the satisfaction of dragging himself along your insides, watching as he disappears again and again inside you, lost in the way your body seems to rise like gentle waves with each thrust. You wouldn't know it, of course, but he's one of the most stoic, put-together kind of guys you'd ever meet. Straight laced, no-nonsense, always poised and put together, but perpetually exhausted. World weary. The kind of guy you meet in a fancy bar and think: He just needs a good, hard fuck. 

Good thing you're here to help with that.

Nanami is intense, but he's focused on you as much as he's riding the high of his own pleasure. You're fine with a little vanilla missionary, but when he folds your legs up against your ribs and really starts to rut into you, that's when you really lose your mind. He does, too, and it's obvious in the way his balls are slamming against your ass and he grunts with each piston of his hips, his pretty blonde hair damp with sweat and beginning to stick to his forehead. 

He doesn't warn you when he comes, but you feel it in the way his cock twitches inside you, and you're gripping his forearms to stay grounded through your third orgasm of the night. There are stars on the ceiling for a few blissful seconds, then all you see is the top of his head when he collapses onto your breasts, breathing heavily, arms wrapped fully around your body like he's not about to let you go anytime soon.

For a little while, you just breathe. You smell him. You trace patterns along his skin and furrow your brow a little at each tiny (and not-so-tiny) scar. Part of you wants to ask him, but you're afraid he wouldn't tell you the full truth of it. So you vow that if you see him again after tonight, you'll ask. 

"What's the protocol here?" he asks, face buried in your neck.

"Hm? Protocol for what?"

"Do you spend the night, or do I send you away with cab fare?" He shifts so that you're able to breathe a little easier, but your laughter kind of throws a wrench in that. 

"Excuse me? Are you kidding me right now?"

His brown eyes widen, and he lifts your chin as he lies there, propped on an elbow, naked and relaxed. Now that you're not quite as drunk, you see him a little clearer. His body intimidates you; it's incredibly defined and toned. Nanami is long, lean, and beautiful. "I don't do this. In fact, I've never done anything like this. I'd like you to stay, but I don't want to force you."

You touch his cheek, scoot closer, and kiss his lips so softly that he thinks he imagines the whole thing. "I want to stay."

And you do. He drives you home in the morning (after he cooks you breakfast) and you exchange numbers. He promises to tell you about his scars, and you promise to tease him about cab fare.

[senanatheskenana]

Giyuu, Sanemi, and Rengoku With Baby Fever

TW: mentions of pregnancy, Sex, fem reader

Giyuu Tomioka

He hadn't put much thought into domestic life- after all, you were his first real relationship. However, when he lays eyes on your happy smile and the way you fussed over the three younger demon slayers, he can't help the feeling that pools in the pit of his stomach. A primal need for you, for a family. He's not particularly proud of the human weakness he currently experiences but each time he looks your way, his strength melts away, leaving only his desire to create life with you.

His smile is small but amused at how you motherly coddle Inosuke, attempting to wipe the mass of dirt off his face, despite his protests. Tanjirou seems almost as enamoured by your sweet behaviour as Giyuu is.

You can tell something is different with Giyuu- the way he holds your hand is just slightly tighter, the way he looks at you ever so slightly hungrier than you've seen. He stares off into space in contented silence, and you feel he is happiest in those moments. The idea made you curious as to what he was daydreaming about.

'Three children, maybe more' he thinks, pink tinging his cheeks at feeling so soft for you. He imagines what life outside of the corp- life with you- would be like. Blissful, peaceful, connecting but of course with moments of excitement and frustration that come from raising children. Maybe your children would have his hair and your eyes- or perhaps they will look the opposite, or exactly like you or him.

His cheeks once again flare up when another thought hits his head.

'And (y/n) would surely only become more beautiful over the years'

"Giyuu~." He is snapped out of his fantasy by your hand over his. "What are you thinking about?"

He gently squeezes your hand, looking deep into your eyes with humility as he thinks through the right words to say.

"We've been married for a year, and we haven't talked about it yet. I would completely understand if you object... but i have a request, that involves both of us." you listen eagerly to him.

"Sweetheart, i will always try my best to understand your wants, there's no reason to seem so nervous," you smile tenderly at him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks. The apples of his cheeks burst into flames at your touch, butterflies erupting underneath the skin of his shuddering chest.

"(Y/N) I love you. I will always love you... And if you will be so kind, I would like to start a family with you"

He sees your face break into a smile, which makes him smile. Before he knows it you're climbing into his lap and kissing him with a passion that fills him with a need he has never experienced.

Kyojurou Rengoku

Kyojurou was sure he wanted children at some point, and as your husband, he made you aware of this, in case it wasn't for you. For the most part, your husband had great self-control.

However, it always seems to slip away when his younger brother makes a comment, about how your baby would probably have bright hair like theirs. At first, it's just that thought, but soon he's thinking about baby names, daydreaming and kicking his legs behind him giggling. You easily notice your cheerful husband becoming even more giddy than usual- not to mention far more physically affectionate.

He finds every excuse under the sun to get you under him. He takes his time, forehead pressed against yours, enraptured in pleasure. Your legs are pressed to your chest; a new position for you. The sheer depth is enough to make you dizzy, even without moving.

Kyojurou looks deeply into your eyes before kissing you passionately, sensually, as if the world is ending.

"Honey, i think we should have a baby!" he huffs out in between languid thrusts. You thought he'd never ask.

"Me too, Kyo~"

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi doesn't not want kids. He just feels he would be a bad father given all of his hangups. He worries he won't be emotionally available for a child, or might accidentally scare them when he is angry.

So this feeling is conflicted within him. On one hand, he's utterly in love with you and the way you care for Genya is heartwarming to the point of actually convincing him he might be ok if you were by his side. On the other, he was terrified of being a bad parent.

Sanemi swears you look so pretty holding your friend's new baby. You hold it like you're accustomed to it like it was yours. And you just look so fucking happy like that. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing if he- no, he couldn't just rush into these things. But you look so pretty he's having a hard time rationalising anything.

He sits beside you, peering down at the baby that tries to grasp at his fingers. It's actually sort of cute, he thinks. Then you look up at him, and he's caught off guard by a vision of you and your own baby. Your friend has to physically bite back giggles while she watches the motions of Sanemi's thoughts. She knows what's happening better than he does.

She sparks up a conversation with you to see how flustered she can make the hashira on this topic. "You know, past the halfway mark I gave up putting on my own pants- it got too annoying when I couldn't see over the bump and boobs. My husband had to help me instead!"

It seems to work like a charm. Sanemi almost zones out, thinking about how you would look pregnant. Without realising it he is salivating at the thought of your swollen chest and round tummy. 'fuck,' he thinks, 'that sounds good'

Half an hour later he's rushing to leave, hastily pulling your coat over your shoulders and waving goodbye to the baby. He didn't dislike being there in any way- he'd just rather be somewhere else with you. He tugs you down the road, looking at you with a strange new fervour, eyes darting to your lips and tummy.

Your friend closes the door behind you with a mischievous grin. "I'll give it a week before she's pregnant<3"

[euphoricfilter]

standing next to you:

pairing: dancer! jungkook x f. reader

genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || strangers to somewhat lovers

summary: with all those eyes on him, he only had eyes for you

word count: 4k

tags/ warnings: infidelity (womp womp), m/c has a crusty rich old bitch of a husband, smut in the forms of: dom! jungkook, who is a little condescending (because we all know i like that), subby! reader, semi-public sex?, oral (fem. receiving), unprotected sex, the pull out method (womp womp), multiple orgasms, cum marking? jungkook has a dick piercing!!!! lets goooo!!!!

notes: yippee jungkook gave me another smut idea. kinda half edited so if there’s mistakes then no there isn’t <\3

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

It couldn’t have been more than half a second, Jungkook’s eyes catching yours for the briefest moment as the spotlights dance over the crowd, what could have been mistaken for the galaxy reflected in your irises as you look at him.

The eyes that told a story of worship, how his mere existence was a crazed phenomenon your brain was barely able to process as you follow his body across the stage.

For months now, he would catch glimpses of you, always sat at the same table with the same people. Never once talking to them as your focus lays solely on him as he dances on stage.

Your face is soon veiled by one of his back-up dancers, flicker of a moment gone. Whatever was there, a short spark of interest simmering out as your face is no longer in his line of sight. Buzz of something a little more snapped, dissolving into fine dust under the orange hue of the light.

There was such innocent wonder in your eyes as your gaze flickers across the stage, entirely enamoured by what lay before you. The theatre nothing like you had ever seen before, ever so extravagant, and elegant. Male dancers dominating the stage, flowing as if they were dancing on ice, so free-spirited in the ways their bodies move.

Constant stimuli of such an event scratching the back of your mind��the way Jungkook moves enough for you to drown out the rest of the chatter behind you, your existence nothing to any of these people.

Your heart hammers in time with the base that tickles the bottom of your feet, broaches on the dancers’ jackets star-like as the spotlight finds its place back on stage, Jungkook’s face soon illuminated again. Face sculpted, a gift from the high heavens, a man that captures the hearts of many, man and woman alike.

He wonders if your eyes remain on him, bright with wonder as he glides across the stage, trying his hardest to find your eyes behind the harsh glare of the lights, sat ever so pretty, the prettiest little thing he’d ever seen.

It’s only when the lights dim does he see the hand on your thigh, silver band of a wedding ring sat one of the fingers.

Though you don’t seem to notice, entirely focused on the stage you don’t seem to realise when your husband squeezes your thigh, entirely unaware when he pushes his chair back to stand up. Ignorant to the fact that he saunters over to another woman a couple of tables behind where you’re sat.

Left alone in the company of your husband’s friends, who have no means to talk to you, nor acknowledge your existence. Because who would talk to the wife of the man who clearly has no care for what should be his lover? And as much as you pretend to not notice, never once asking why he gets home so late, or the messages that flash across the screen of his phone, never once have you brought it up.

Because that wasn’t your job. You weren’t there to care, to worry about who got your husband’s dick wet or who was stuffed full of his cum, who had it dripping down their legs when he re-emerges after you hadn’t seen him for what felt like hours. You were there to look pretty, and to smile at any man that gives you attention, nothing more and nothing less.

Jungkook thinks you must be the first to stand on your feet once the performance is over, eager in your applause. Too shy to meet his eyes from where he looks down at you from the stage, but not enough to not show your appreciation for his art. Glittery shimmer of the dim light illuminating you, stood centre of the room, awe reflected from your face as you quickly glance up to look at him before the curtain lowers.

So many minutes of your life stolen by him, perfect in the way his body moved, moments you never wish you get back because you wished to watch him dance forever.

Your eyes flit down to the sliver of stomach that peeks from beneath his blazer when he raises his arms at the applause.

You swallow at the deep rumble of his voice as he thanks the crowd, turning to thank the back-up dancers too before he’s facing you again, hint of a smile on his face as he takes one final bow. The curtains falling from the ceiling, your hair tickling your neck at the short gust of wind it produces.

It takes a moment for you to gather yourself, mind reeling as you glance around the room. Entirely isolated, even with hundreds of people surrounding you.

You can’t see where your husband had wandered off to, swallowing down any apprehension you have as you sit back down, fingers gentle as they pick up the flute of champagne—too expensive for your tastes, and you hate to think just how much it costs. Much rather having the host spend that sort of money on the reason for this evening than wowing guests with expensive alcohol and high-end food. Because surely the fund raiser would fare better with all that money than the pompous assholes that laughed in the face of the less fortunate.

You almost jump out of your seat when a heavy hand lands on your shoulder, eyes wide as your tilt your head upwards to see who it could be. Heart hammering when your eyes meet Jungkook’s, flickering across his face.

You swallow, “Hi” you breathe, turning your body to face him a little better.

The corners of Jungkook’s lips curl up into a smile, piercings catching the light, “What’s a pretty girl doing sitting alone?”

He pulls out an empty chair beside you, your head flickering across all the empty chairs around the table, wondering where all your husband’s friends had gone.

“Oh just…” you start, turning back to look at him, words dissolving on your tongue when your eyes meet his.

He raises an eyebrow, leaning back in the chair a little, legs spread wide. His eyes flicker down to the ring on your finger.

“I thought your performance earlier was amazing” you rush, hands running over your silk dress. Perfect change of conversation.

Jungkook leans a little closer to you, reaching across the table a little to grab your glass of champagne. Your eyes stay trained on his lips as they wrap around the rim of the glass, breath catching in the back of your throat as he downs the rest of your drink.

“I don’t think I ever caught your name?” he urges, eyes sharp as they flicker across your face.

“Y/n” you breathe, “and you are…”

“Jungkook” he holds out his hand for you to shake. You take it, toes curling, imaginary electric current slipping down your body at his gentle touch.

“I could show you backstage if you like?” he offers, hands smothering down the imaginary creases in his suit, nodding towards the stage, “It’s pretty nice back there”

You glance over your shoulder, eyes scanning the room for a moment before you’re looking back at Jungkook nodding, “I would like that” you murmur, taking his hand when he offers it to you. He tugs you a little closer to his side once you’ve stood up, linking your arm with his as he walks the both of you around the maze of tables.

Not once does it cross your mind that all the people in the room can see you clinging onto another man, eyes glued to the side of his face as you paint a picture of him in your mind. After so many months of watching him perform on stage, a perfect entity so far out of reach, he was not stood beside you. Warm flesh radiating underneath his suit jacket, scar on his cheek deepened from the overhead lights, calloused hand holding yours.

Someone that had felt entirely unhuman, so long of yearning, but there he was, touching you like it were nothing and he weren’t one of your dreams. Silly little fantasies of a man that should never be yours, dreams of what days would be like with someone like Jungkook. Dreams that should have never been yours to begin with, not while the slippery claws of the law tie you to another man.

Jungkook, ever the gentleman, helps you up the stairs backstage. Narrow hallway entirely empty as he flicks the light on, “It’s truly wonderful back here” he tells you, not letting go of your hand once.

You look around in awe, head turning to look over the outfits hung on clothes racks as you walk by.

“We can order food in my dressing room? I assume you haven’t eaten yet and I don’t think they plan to bring dinner out for a while longer” he tells you, pulling a set of keys out the front pocket of his jacket, opening the door with ease.

“I am a little hungry” you hum, stepping into the dressing room, sitting on one of the couches when he motions for you to make yourself comfortable.

Your eyes flicker towards the door when he locks it, apprehension clawing its way up your body.

“Jungkook…?” you ask, gaze never leaving the lock, even as he slinks towards you, long steps across the room having him in front of you in no time.

“You’re tense” he sits beside you, hand running down the length of your arm, “Let me fix that”

You don’t miss the dark haze in his eyes, cunt clenching at the mere thought of a man of his calibre wanting you in any sort of way.

You swallow, eyes glancing down at his lips then back up to his eyes, “We can’t” you whisper.

“Why’s that?” he murmurs, fingers training over your thighs, silk dress soft under his fingertips.

“Because…” you start, swallowing down a whimper when his fingers graze your warm skin.

“Because” he urges, teasing as he inches his fingers that little big higher.

“Because my—” you swallow, Jungkook’s scoff cutting you off.

“Because of your incompetent husband?”

You tongue wets your bottom lip, fingers clenching by your side, “Yes” your voice breathless.

“Leave him” Jungkook groans, hand tugging yours closer to him, slipping the wedding ring off your finger.

You watch as he holds it, prickle of guilt building within your chest at the fact you don’t feel bad in the slightest for what you want from Jungkook, nor the fact he holds a symbol of love and you can only wish for him to take it forever, no longer yours. No longer a burden you wish to carry.

He slips it into the pocket of his jacket, leaning forward enough for the tip of his nose to kiss yours, short huff of a breath slipping past his lips. He tilts his head a little, gentle hesitation tugging at his body; leeway for you to pull away and stop this whenever you want.

You let out a shaky breath, fingers curling into the collar of his jacket, tugging him towards you. A groan catches in the back of his throat when your lips collide with his, desperate need radiating from every pore of your electrified body—tongue prodding at his bottom lip.

“My darling” he breathes in the brief moment you part, though he wastes no time tilting your head backwards that little bit as he kisses you again.

You hum against his lips, eyes slipping shut as his hands wander the length of your body, thumbs digging into your hips, down the length of your thighs until he’s tugging at the hem of your dress.

Your pussy clenches as his fingers inch that little bit higher, moan caught by Jungkook as he ghosts over tender skin, pulling the fabric higher and higher until he’s brushing his knuckles over your panties. Damp beneath his fingers as he presses through your covered folds, your hips bucking upwards when he nudges your clit.

A breathy laugh is pulled from him as you rock forward a little, chasing the pleasure as he presses his thumb a little harder against your clit.

“Pretty girl” he murmurs, hand slipping from between your legs to tug at your dress, pulling it up and over your head.

Your arms fold over your bare chest, Jungkook’s tongue wetting his bottom lip as his eyes rake down the length of your body, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs.

“How beautiful” he says, bending down a little to press a gentle kiss over your collar bone. His hands leaving your thighs to tug your arms away from your chest, guttural groan vibrating from his chest.

You let out something similar to a squeak when he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, goosebumps prickling up the skin of your arms at the flash of pleasure that shoots down your spine as his teeth graze over the sensitive skin.

Slick leaks into your panties as your hand grazes over the evident erection that strains behind the expensive fabric of his pant, cock twitching beneath the tips of your fingers as you squeeze his length.

“Want you” he ruts his hip upwards into your hand, tongue flat over your tits before he sucks at your warm skin, red blossoming with every mean little nip of his teeth. Claim of your body as his, evidence of his lust and your leaking pleasure that pools between your legs.

“You have me” you breathe, fiddling with the button of his dress pants, stumbling over yourself a little as he helps you lay back on the couch. He tugs your panties down your thighs, bottom lip tucking between his teeth as he watches the string of arousal that connects the cotton to your sodden pussy, all puffy and pretty. Clit erect and desperate, moan slipping off your lips when he leans down to press a kiss to the swollen little nub, pocketing your panties in his jacket.

“Jungkook” you moan, fingers digging into his hair, pulling him further into your pussy, hips rolling up into his face as he lays his tongue flat for you to ride.

He tugs down his pants and underwear just under his straining cock as you use him to get yourself off, shameless in your own pleasure as he moans into your pussy—incoherent whisper of how good you taste drowned out by the slick sound of your folds parting, fingers prodding at your entrance before sinking between your walls.

You clench around the intrusion, fingers tightening their hold on Jungkook’s hair as you moan out his name, mind nothing but lust filled mush, pleasure coursing through every inch of your body as he sucks on your clit.

“Gonna cum” you moan, fingers tugging at your nipples. Hiccup of his name catching in your throat at a particularly hard suck, thick fingers curling right over your sweet spot.

He presses a second finger into your, incessant nudge against your insides sending you reeling over the edge. A cry falling from your lips as you reach your peak, hips still rutting up into Jungkook’s mouth as you ride your high.

“Good girl” he murmurs against your pussy, fingers slipping out of you so he can drink down your release. Tip of his tongue pressing past your entrance to take whatever your body has to give him, cum coated fingers pressing slightly over your still buzzing clit, fiery pleasure thrumming beneath your skin.

“S’ too much” you whine, pushing his head from between your legs, sheen of your arousal coating his mouth and chin shiny.

Your eyes flicker down when something shiny catches the light, and they widen slightly when you see his hand wrapped around his thick cock, thumb running over the king’s crown piercing.

“Oh” you murmur, pussy clenching at the prospect of him being inside of you.

Jungkook hums, fingers squeezing tighter around his length, “You like it, baby?”

You swallow, tongue running over your bottom lip.

You nod, legs falling open a little wider for him, “Want it” you mumble, fingers parting your folds, silent invitation for him to split you open, fuck and fill you until you’re nothing than a pile of pleasure.

“Yeah?” his lips curl at the corners, hint of a smile showing.

“Mhmm” you nod, and his eyes catch sight of your cunt clenching.

“What do we say when we want something, baby?” he urges, scooting between your legs, pressing his cockhead through your folds, watching your hips jolt at the gentle stimulation to your clit.

You arch your back, dribble of slick caught by the tip of his cock as he slicks his length up with your arousal.

“Please, Jungkook” you breathe, “Please I need you”

“So good for me” he groans, thumb pressing just under his piercing, pressing his cock into you.

Your mouth falls open into a silent moan, ache throbbing down your length as his cock splits you open.

“Good girl” he murmurs, stomach tensing when you clench around his cock, piercing dragging deliciously against your walls.

“So good” you moan, hands finding his hips to pull him further inside of you, desperate for every agonising inch he had.

He holds himself inside of you, pelvis flushed with the backs of your thighs as he helps you rest your legs around his waist.

“Yeah, you feel good, baby?” he leans down, lips pressing against your jaw, fingers sinking into the flesh of your hips, gently rutting his cock into you, “Better than your husband could ever make you feel, yeah?”

He lets out a breathy laugh when he feels you clench around his girth, thighs twitching at his words.

“Come on baby, tell me how much better I make you feel” he taunts, dragging an inch of his cock out of you, distressed whine tumbling past your lips as your pussy clenches, trying to pull his cock back into you.

“Tell me” one of his hands takes hold of your jaw, tugging your face so your eyes meet his, “Tell me”

“You make me feel better than he does” you mumble.

“Louder” he shakes your head a little.

“You make me feel better” you say a little louder, chest tightening.

“Than who?” he urges, thumb running over your bottom lip, pressing into your mouth and over your tongue.

“My husband” you slur, mouth tugged open by his thumb.

“And who do you belong to?”

You blink up at Jungkook, drool gathering in the corners of your lips, such a pretty little thing. Ever so messy and desperate, awfully cute if you asked Jungkook.

“Who?”

You swallow, pussy clenching, “You”

“Mmhmm” he hums, “that’s right, all mine”

You rut your hips upwards, clit dragging against his stomach, thrum of pleasure making your toes curl, eyes still trained on Jungkook as you try and get yourself off.

He tugs at the corner of your mouth, thumb pressing into your cheek, watching as the skin bulges. And he wonders briefly what you’d look like with his cock stuffed in your mouth, pretty eyes blinking up at him like they did when he performed on stage; like he held all the secrets to the world in the palms of his hands. Those same hands that would smother your body with his love, dimpling pretty skin and pulling you back onto his cock.

“Jungkook” you whine, hips rutting a little more desperately, so needy for a second orgasm.

“A needy little thing, that’s what you are” his lips curl into a smile, thumb falling from your mouth as his hips pull backwards, your thighs quivering at the drag of his piercing inside of you.

He pulls out until the tip, hands tugging your thighs open a little wider before he’s snapping back into you, relentless as he picks up his pace. He holds you by the backs of your knees, angling your body that little bit off the couch, cockhead pressing against your sweet spot with every rough jab back into you.

“Shit, that’s good” he groans, wet smack back into you echoing off the walls of the dressing room.

You moan a staccato of his name, nothing but how good his cock fills you up in your mind, so entirely full of Jungkook in every respect of the word.

He doesn’t slow down, rhythmic with every thrust back into you, pussy clenching as your fingers slide down the length of your body, pressing over your sensitive clit.

“I’m close” you moan, free hand dragging down the length of his arm, grabbing at the fabric of his suit as your back arches.

“Come for me, baby” he groans, “Make a mess of my cock”

Your hand slips from his arm, grabbing hold of your chest as you continue to flick your clit, moan catching in the back of your throat as you slip head first into your orgasm.

Jungkook watches your face contour in pleasure, snapping his cock into you sloppy. He twitches between your walls, fingers digging into you a little harder, staving off his orgasm for as long as he can while you ride out your high, mind so far gone, eyes glazed over as you look up at him.

“That’s it, baby” his voice is gruff, pressing his cock against your sweet spot, your hips jolting, pleasure slipping into odd tingly overstimulation as he ruts into you, your fingers still pressing over your clit.

Jungkook moans, cock slipping out of you, his hand quick to wrap around his length. Slick noise reverberating in your ears as he brings himself over the edge, angling his cock so his cum paints your stomach. Thick string of white coating your skin, spurts of it shooting out of his cock. His stomach tenses, eyes slipping shut as he squeezes his cockhead, final spurt of his seed slipping just over your clit, joining the wet mess of your cunt as it slips down your folds.

“That’s a good girl” he groans, letting go of his softening cock.

He looks at you down the length of his nose, watching as you smear his cum over your skin, absolutely fascinated as it clings to your fingers.

His cock stirs in interest when you dip your fingers into your mouth, tongue licking up his release.

“You little minx” he laughs, bringing your legs back down, bending to press a kiss to your cum stained lips.

Your eyes slip shut as he kisses you, any tension left in your body dissolving as his tongue licks up his own release from your lips.

“Leave him” Jungkook murmurs, mouth hovering over yours, eyes still closed as the both of you bask in your afterglow. Skin sweat tacky, cooling slowly as his fingers dance over your skin, final humming of pleasure beneath your skin fizzling away.

“I can’t” you breathe.

“Run away then” he says, “with me”

Your eyes slip open, hand holding Jungkook’s jaw.

“Jungkook” you warn.

“What?” he mumbles, eyes slipping open to meet your own, “We can go somewhere far, he won’t find you… he won’t find us”

You wet your bottom lip, mind reeling as you weigh out your options.

“He doesn’t love you” his thumb runs over your cheek.

“I know” you whisper, eyes flickering between his, “But do you?”

Jungkook swallows, “Not as much as I want to, but that doesn’t mean what I’m feeling isn’t love”

You glance over at the clock on the wall, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as silence stretches out between the both of you.

You let out a long sigh, “We have an hour at most… before he’ll come looking”

Jungkook can’t help the smile that tugs onto his lips, “Then we should get going?”

The corners of your own lips tug upwards, “Yes… I suppose we should” you say, taking the hand he offers to help you sit up.

“Don’t make me regret this” you warn him as you slip your dress over your head, cringing at the drying cum that clings to your skin.

“I won’t” he promises.

[bugboybuck]

Cake?

(For the one-word butcktommy prompt 🥰)

"Babe," Evan calls through from the kitchen. "Why is there like, a whole cheesecake in your fridge?"

Tommy's sprawled out on the couch, shirtless in sweatpants, flicking through the TV channels trying to find something that might appeal to Evan's picky watching habits. It's gone eight PM but Tommy just woke up - a long shift followed by a long day of crashing out in his bed - and Evan, on his own 48 off and smug about it, had turned up just to hang out. A few months in and they're still slowly getting the hang of how to parcel out enough time together around shift work, often chasing the end of each other's naps, sharing a meal that's breakfast for one of them and dinner for the other. But they're making it work.

Still, it's maybe a sign of Tommy's remaining grogginess after sleeping the day away that he has no idea what Evan is asking him right now.

"Where else would I put it?" Tommy calls back. He can just about see the backs of Evan's legs poking out from the fridge; Tommy's living room is part-open to the kitchen through a wide archway in the white stucco walls. Keeping one eye on the TV, he says, "Cheesecake goes bad if you leave it out."

"No, I don't mean-" Evan cuts off, and then closes the fridge and re-ermerges a moment later with half a zucchini muffin stuffed in his mouth. He'd apparently worked out after dinner and then come over to Tommy's still ravenous. Tommy is a little enamoured by the way Evan always eats like he's trying to set the world record for how much one person can fit in their mouth in one go. Evan swallows with great effort and continues, "What's the cake for? I didn't miss your birthday or something, right?"

"Don't worry - November thirteenth," Tommy says, beckoning Evan back into the room. Evan happily comes and flings way too much of his 200-plus-pound self on Tommy once. "Oof. You know I'm not the couch, right?"

"Really? Look like one to me," Evan says, grinning and prodding Tommy a few times while Tommy shoves him off until they're more cuddling than wrestling.

"The cake's just cake," Tommy says. "I felt like cheesecake this week."

"You - wait, so you bought yourself a whole cake? Just for no reason?"

Evan sounds completely bemused, which is unfairly adorable. Tommy presses a kiss onto his shoulder while Evan finishes the rest of the zucchini muffin. Tommy had bought those special because they're keto friendly, and Evan's still on a kick with that - no wonder he can't imagine buying cheesecake for the sake of it.

"The reason is that I like it," Tommy tells him. "I realised a few years ago that one benefit of being an adult who doesn't have to listen to a miserable tyrant of a father or CO or captain is that I can have cake whenever I want. So I do. Is that okay?"

Evan sort of melts into him. One of his long, strong legs brackets Tommy's ribs as he crawls more into Tommy's lap. "That's really cute and kind of ridiculous," Evan tells him. "I swear nobody believes me that you're like such a big kid sometimes."

"Hey, now," Tommy protests, lightly, teasingly.

"Your sweet tooth is very cute," Evan assures him.

"Well, yeah - why do you think I like you so much? You're like cookie dough cheesecake in human form." Tommy bites down lightly on Evan's strong shoulder, like he might eat him, and Evan laughs.

"It's cookie dough too? Oh man, babe, you really do have a problem."

"Alright, captain keto, that's enough out of you," Tommy says, and finally drags Evan into a kiss. He really is the only thing better than cake.

[luveline]

whenever youre free!! can you please write a spencer x reader where we meet spencer during an early season where he’s still cute and awkward maybe we date too but something happens and we don’t see him for a long time only to meet him again when he’s older and hotter (post prison) and there’s still crazy tension after all those years. in love with your writing btw!!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

tysm for requesting! hope this is ok :D ♡ 1.2k

cw vaguely suggestive theme

Looking at Spencer, you could almost think you were fresh out of college again, unsure of yourself and in need of a friend. 

He'd been much more than a friend. It's why you're here. 

The cake might have been a bad idea. You hold it between two hands, the subtle smell of chocolate rising from the box's ill-fitting lid. Your breath catches, words coming out wonky, "Hey. Spencer?" 

He looks up from his book, startled at being found, you think. "Y/N?" 

He looks the same. 

Obviously, he's older. He has facial hair and his curls are styled rather than having been left to their own devices, but you feel as hopelessly enamoured with him as you had years ago, because he still smiles like a puppy dog.

You're twice as surprised as he is when he stands from his coffee table to hug you. The cake box wobbles in your hands as he squeezes you, swaying you from side to side, his laugh warm in your ear. 

"What are you doing back here?" he asks, diving backward to see your face. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again." 

"I still had JJ's number, you know, from when I wanted that address, and she texted me to say you'd been released, and I," —your voice curls tighter, are you talking too much?— "know you might not want to hear from me, but I was worried about you. You were my best friend." 

His smile flickers. You press the cake into his hands. 

"That's for you," you say. 

Spencer's wavering smile turns to the box. He sets it down on the table beside his coffee cup and tented book, removing the lid carefully. You remember suddenly how nice his hands are, and the tracing of his fingertips down your bare shoulders. Goosebumps erupt along the ghost of his touch. 

"Well done on not being a criminal," he reads, snorting. "Funny. Little too soon." 

You feel like your stomach's fallen out, but he drops the act with another laugh. 

"Oh, you're still a jerk," you say. "I'm glad something hasn't changed." 

"You think I've changed?" he asks. 

"You didn't get any taller, if that's what you're asking." 

Spencer's smile turns fond. It's the sweet, sticky smile he'd always give you before he'd tell you he loved you, or that you were the best best friend ever. Or that last night, when you followed him hand in hand down the long hallway to his bedroom. 

"I wasn't that much of a jerk, was I?" he asks. 

"No, you weren't." You hold your hands behind your back. "Could I join you? Just for a bit?" 

"You brought me a cake. I can't say no, can I? Of course you can sit down. I'll get you a coffee, okay?" 

He touches his hand to your arm as he passes. You sit down in the seat across from him, sick with what-if and should-have. What if I could've stayed? Maybe I should have done more. But when Spencer ignored the letters you sent him while he was incarcerated, you figured you'd done more than he wanted. The cake was a last ditch effort, spurred on by JJ's text that read, I think he'd be really happy to see you. 

Spencer puts a china cup down in front of you. You take a sip, muscle memory, and grin at him shyly as he slides into the seat across from you. "You remembered." 

"I remember everything." 

"Right. Your photographic memory." 

"Eidetic, and sure, but I wouldn't forget about you." He reads your shyness for what it is, worry you've overstepped. He's too perceptive to trick. "I think I tried, but… I have so many bad memories, I wanted the good ones to keep." 

You can't imagine the things he experienced in prison. JJ couldn't tell you much. You knew from how you had to address his letters alone that he was sent to a general correctional facility in Mexico, rather than the protective custody he'd needed. He doesn't look terrible considering, but you've barely seen him since you had to leave. He's aged well. The only worry is his dark under eyes. 

"We had a good time," you say gently. "I knew you'd need that. That's why I sent you all those letters, you know? I wasn't trying to come back into your life, I know I don't deserve it after I left, but I couldn't stop thinking about you by yourself." 

You stare at his book. 

"How many letters did you send?" he asks. 

"I don't really remember." 

"I didn't get one." He grimaces. "I didn't get any from my mom, either. Think it was a coincidence?" 

Spencer's time in was kind of sick. He stabbed himself, made friends with criminals, played a lot of chess, and learned how to make tacos in a doritos bag. It was also arguably the loneliest and most degrading time of his life. 

One coffee becomes two, two becomes a third to go. You feel a hundred emotions but there's one that stands out the most as you drift around Pentagon City with him —wanting. You want him to be your best friend again, to rub your back and hold you when you're tired, to take you grocery shopping in his beat up P130. You want him to kiss you like he had, like he was searching for something, but he's changed so much that you don't know if your Spencer is still in there, under everything, or if he'd even want to.

"You live in the same apartment?" you ask. 

"Can you imagine how much it would cost me to move that many books? Paying the rent turns out cheaper," he says, the two of you walking in the grey street. "What about you? You didn't come all the way here to see me." 

"I actually did." You rub up the length of your upper arm, sheepish. "I did, Spencer." 

For a while, all you can hear is the plastic rustling of the bag held in his hand. 

"Thank you for writing to me. I didn't get to read them, but it makes a difference." 

You lift your head to meet his eyes. He holds your gaze, a charge behind his dark brown eyes. You used to think his irises and his pupils were one and the same, but you can see now that there are flecks of light in his irises. His hedging of thick lashes kiss in the corners as he slowly, slowly smiles. 

You glare at him. "Don't." 

"Don't what?" 

"You know what. You're doing that thing. Pretending you're not trying to make me nervous." 

"I'm not doing that. Flustered, but not nervous." Is he smirking?

"Flustered," you repeat, your smile stupidly big now, cheeks aching. "Yeah, right, Reid."

His pinky brushes yours. You don't have any proof that he's doing it purposefully, but he is. 

"Do you want to get something to eat? You can tell me what you were writing in your letters. I'd really, really like to know." His voice is threaded with a familiar timidity for the first time since you reunited. 

There you are, you think happily. "Sure. You buy me a sticky bun from our old place and I'll tell you all my written secrets." 

"Deal." 

[sehya]

✧˖°. ࣪𖤐 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

✉ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ ꜱᴀʏꜱ.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬): 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 × 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Loneliness has accompanied Lucifer for years. Year after another, his company was filled with inanimate objects with neither the ability to speak, move or feel. While he could manipulate the actions of the objects, it doesn’t change the fact that he has no real company to speak of.

So it felt strange when there was suddenly someone sitting on the same table set up for a tea party that he normally shares with just a group of rubber ducks.

The feeling was….phenomenal.

Lucifer doesn’t even know why you’re tolerating his ramblings. He wonders if it’s out of politeness, but he dismissed the idea halfway upon witnessing the way your eyes shine with interest, the way your eyebrows moved depending on what he’s talking about and the small smile hanging firmly on your delicate face. He has your full attention and for Lucifer, he feels happy being the sole focus of your attentiveness. Heck, he’d take your hums and nods over other people’s company.

“You know…” Lucifer smiled, cheek resting on his palm as he leaned against the table with eyes never leaving yours even for a second. “I have to thank you for helping me pack. It’d be a totally boring process without you.”

Your eyes softened, placing down the tea cup slowly before you reach out and held his hand, smiling. “Anything for you.”

Lucifer grin and giggled, completely enamoured with your kindness and understanding. It took so much from him to let go of his hesitations and apprehensions, too scared to enter yet another relationship after his heart suffered from the first. Now, however, he was glad he did.

You’re like the brightest of star that burned down his walls and willingly fell in his hands, melting his heart and mending it anew. Lucifer loves the fact that you don’t mind his too much chatter, and even more when you listened with such genuine interest.

“I mostly stayed here, so the things in my room isn’t as much as the things in here. I hope you don’t mind helping me out in unpacking, too. I mean…If that’s alright with you, ahaha. I don’t want to take up too much of your time just in case you have something to do.”

That's a lie.

If he could, Lucifer would like──no, he would love to have all the time you could possibly give him.

“Oh, right, before I forgot. Remember when you mentioned about the duckies that looks like us, wellllll…” Lucifer stood up, and without letting for of your hand, he summoned a box and placed it in front of you, opening it with an excited grin. “Ta-da!~ A personally made ones by the hands of the big boss of hell. Ah-hm, what do you think?”

Lucifer watched with a touch of nervousness despite the big grin on his face as your eyes widened, staring at the pair of rubber ducks that has obvious traits to you both.

Then he saw your face erupted in red. Your eyes were staring at his gift. “You…really made it?”

It was just a random comment.

Lucifer giggled, “I made it for you.”

“You made it for me.” You whispered, feeling extremely touched. “You mean…these are for me? I can keep them both?”

Lucifer saw your eyes brightened, picking up the rubber duck that looks like him with such gentleness, as though it’s made of porcelain that could easily break. His breath hitched when you turned to him, then back to the rubber duck, then back at him, then you smiled at him.

“Lucifer…”

“Yes?” he answered hoarsely upon noticing your eyes goes lower. He somehow has an inkling what you’re going say.

“Can I kiss you?”

Lucifer grinned, he was right. Licking his lips in anticipation, he answered. “I, yeah, of course. You always can.”

With a smile, Lucifer felt your gentle hand on his face as you stood up to capture his lips in a gentle kiss before pulling away, smiling softly as you ask. “They look amazing, our little figurines. I'd like to hear their little quirks, I'm sure you did something like that back-flipping one that spits fire. Can you tell me about it?”

Lucifer was put in a daydream by your kiss, but upon hearing your words, his eyes lit up as held the hand on his cheek, squeezing it a bit. “Oh boy, how’d you know I did a little something? You’re in for a lot of talking, because trust me, these two have lotsss of amazing little quirks. Be ready to waste your time on listening to my chitter-chatter.”

The rise in the corner of your lips was enough to tell Lucifer you don’t mind and that you’ll spent however much time needed just to listen to everything he wants to say, and that, for Lucifer, is something he would forever be thankful for.

✧˖°. ࣪𖤐 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫

✉ Hope you enjoyed ᥫ᭡

[legumeofknowledge]

Nifty is Eve in disguise

This theory adds onto to a few other popular ones, that being Eve is Alastor's dealmaker under the guise of Lilith, and Eve is the cryptic "Roo." What I propose alongside that, is that she's hiding in plain sight among the hotel guests, and that disguise is Nifty.

Spoilers up to the season 1 finale below:

Evidence:

When you think about her in conjunction with the show's established themes it falls into place: Adam, the s1 antagonist is a misogynist who wanted Lilith's obedience. Eve will foil Lilith; while she's all about hating subservience and breaking chains, Nifty is a parody of the stereotypical 50s housewife, 'likes being forced' and spends her time cooking, cleaning, and obsessing over men. Eve was created from Adam's rib to ensure his next wife would lack the autonomy to rebel. Designed to be the epitome of Adam's submissive ideal, it makes sense Eve would choose a 50s housewife as her disguise, they resonate with her.

The old logo is her face / her and Lucifer's placement on the prime cover.

She collects little pieces of men because that's what she was made from / is enamoured with Pentious in particular because he's a snake. "never leave me again" <- double meaning alert. / "HATED THAT SONG" because she was never offered forgiveness so easily. Not even Charlie catching her in the trust fall is foreshadowing; unlike Lilith who had Lucifer, no one came to her side when she committed the original sin.

The all-female exorcists were made by Adam to serve him. Their masks have horns like Lilith and a missing eye like a cyclops. They're hybrid clones of the two wives that left him. Eve is the only character in the intro whose eyes we haven't seen.

Every large ensemble show has a mole arc and she's the only one with no established goals. It's always the one-note gag characters you should look out for.

There's no confirmation if Nifty made a deal with Alastor. I think Eve is the one who's got him 'on a leash' though he thinks it's Lilith. He lets Nifty follow him around and she plays up the fangirl persona to keep a close eye on him.

It's the perfect refuge in audacity disguise. Acting innocent in hell in suspect. Being an unhinged stalker raises no questions. Alastor himself says he has no idea what tf her deal is.

I made this theory a few days ago but I was delighted to see more evidence in the final episode. See this?

It's elaborate foreshadowing disguised as a gag. She's not just doing this for the funsies she is MAD mad. Vengeance!

Conclusion:

Whether this means she's the big bad or unlikely ally, I can't say. If it's the former, her goal is to be redeemed with the other guests and enter heaven so she can get revenge on everyone else. S1 leans heavily into heaven vs hell so it would make sense for the final antag to be a 3rd party wildcard who wants to burn both sides to the ground for failing her. Heaven casted her out, hell unintentionally doomed her to an eternity of suffering with the fruit of knowledge, then left her.

Nifty be Shifty.

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

AAAAH I loved your most to least list!!!! I 💯 agree with your opinion frfr

I have another request 🫵🏼🧐 what if TFP! bumblebee, smokescreen and (insert any character you want)'s female S/O has this random 'affection bursts' where she would randomly shout 'my precious babyyy' and rub herself onto their faces or hugs their hands ??! I want some of that fluff pls 🥺

Aww, I'm so glad you liked it!! Aaand I love the idea of an aggressive affectionate S/O! (❤´艸｀❤) I'll assume the reader is a human based on the things you said!

TFP Bumblebee, Smokescreen and Soundwave with a Female!Human!S/O who has affection bursts!

WARNING: She/Her pronouns used for S/O but there are none physical descriptions, fluff (too much fluff it's sickening!!! /j), romantic relationships. S/O is an adult (over 20 years old).

BUMBLEBEE

In the beginning he was kind of confused but never gave it too much thought before you two became a couple.

There were a few times you would arrive to the base and have those little outburts with the kids - it was always hugs and gentle cheek-to-cheek snuggles (specially with Miko and Raff). Bee always associated it to when a Carrier or Sire are with their sparkling. Which is good! It means you care for them! And that makes Bee beep happily.

But when you two became a couple? Bee was actually scared! At least the first times.

"My precious Bee!" your shout is followed by Bee's surprised beep, but when he sees it's just you, he sighs in relief as you hug his peds.

Remember how Bee's face looks whenever someone in the movies touches his cheek? Yeah, that's how he looks at you - with pure love and adoration as he melts while you are hugging his faceplate and gently rubbing your face against his.

Would gently snuzzle his faceplate against you whenever you are cuddling - making you giggle cuz I imagine his faceplate would nearly always be against your torso.

He beeps-chuckles at anytime you hug his pedes or legplates and loudly make 'mwah' noises.

Bee does get shy when anyone mentions how fuzzy and flusttered he looks after getting a kiss or cuddle from you, but the shyness becomes enamoured sighs as he counts the kliks until you have another affection burst on him.

"Beep..."

"Oh, come on, Bee - she just left. And she gave you your daily dosis of cuddles! Don't be sad!" Raff says back, smiling at his guardian.

Come back and give him love, S/O. *(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭*ଘ

SMOKESCREEN

This mech looking at his S/O like (❤ ω ❤) 24/7 all year around.

The very 1st time he saw you have that platonic-affection outburst with any of the kids he was curious... aaand lowkey hopeful he would get one too.

"I wish S/O would hug me too..." / "Beep-wee?" / "N-nothing!"

When you two became a couple there are affection bursts from both of you, nearly every day.

You two become Ratchet's worst nightmare - Ratchet was already starting to accept your affection outburts. But now having Smokescreen not shut up about you? And also always shout "My precious star!" whenever he sees you, followed by "Smokyyy!" from your part? "Primus, end me."

Smokescreen loves to hold you carefully on his servos and lift you to his helm level so you can hug him and press kisses all over his faceplate.

And he always kisses the top of your head, imitating your loud 'mwah!' sounds.

"Isn't my sparkmate the best? And the most beautiful girl of them all? If I could I would always carry her and kiss her and - !"

Your relationship with Smokescreen would be:

"I am a serious and cold-calculated autobot!" / "Who is my beloved Smoky?" / "Meee :3"

He holds you so dearly while you hug his chestplate, and he can't help but feel like his spark is vibrating in pure happiness. His precious little star.

SOUNDWAVE

Well... this is new.

Soundwave is always on alert, after all, he was to keep an optic on anyone and anything inside and outside of the Nemesis.

How did he not notice you arrive to his area and hug one of his tentacles?

He actually flinched and slowly looked down at you.

You just laughed awkwardly as you let go of his tentacle. "Sorry, Soundwave - wanted to, uh, give you a hug... have a nice day!" and you leave quickly.

Soundwave never takes off his optics from you until you finally disappear from his sight, to then look down at his hugged tentacle. It felt... nice.

From that day, whenever you two are in the same place, he slowly moves one of his tentacles towards you. And when you finally catch on that you can hug him again, you swear you saw the smiling face emoji on his faceplate.

It takes time to let you hug more than his tentacle - starts to let you hug his pedes or legplates. Then when he finally lets you get on his servo, he only lets you hug or rest against his chestplate.

But when he allows you to hug his faceplate?

The panel on his faceplate only showed kiss and enamoured emojis when you kissed it.

Of course, only when you two are all alone! But won't stop you if you have your affection outburst while others watch. They know better than to judge or laugh at the sight.

"My scary and big Soundwave." /affectionate.

" (❤´艸｀❤) "

He will now always try to have you on his servos or carry you around. And loooves when you snuggle aggressively your cheek against his armplates or servos.

Will do the same with either his own faceplate or use one of his tentacles to playfully snuggle your face.

Becomes really silly with you.

"Soundwave: request. S/O: proceed with affection burst."

Wan' cuddle a big robot (sobbing). Vhaos out!

[aethon-recs]

This Week in Tomarrymort (12 – 19 September 2024)

Hi everyone, so sorry this is a couple of days late this week! Will be back on the normally scheduled time next week!

As with last week, please feel free to add a little overview/summary about your update to the notes! I so enjoyed reading all the notes last week 🤍

(And in case you missed, a recap of the extra notes from last week!)

Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse (E, 37k, WIP) [source] "Harry comes in swinging from a bleak version of sixth and seventh years, fully intending to kill Tom. Unfortunately it seems the only people Tom and Harry are incapable of killing is the other. Harry's on attempt 4 and counting and this time he gives up on spells and decides to punch Tom Riddle's nose off. Tom's still utterly enamoured with him." friend of the devil (a friend of mine) by @shyinsunlight (E, 11k, WIP) [source] "When after four long years Harry and Tom meet again, the world turns upside down. Or maybe it was upside down all along, and it’s now flipping back over." These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain (M, 23k, WIP) [source] "Things have gone from bad to worse, and Harry is finally about ready to take matters into his own hands…even if it means defying the normal laws of Magic and actually doing something for himself for once. (Guess which one will be harder for him 😂) In this update, Harry and Voldemort unexpectedly come face to face for the first time since the Dark Lord's death…which leads to a disturbing realization for Harry." Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic (E, 13k, WIP) [source] "A Harry-corrupts-Tom AU: Tom expects to feel victorious at his greatest enemy's confession. Instead, he develops a crush on him." the crushing weight of cancelling your fav by @cindle-writes (M, 4k, complete) [source] "Tom Riddle has made millions and built a cult following around his politics-themed online stream, much to his boyfriend Harry’s bemusement. However, bemusement quickly turns into concern when Harry meets one of Tom’s biggest, most fervent fanboys, Regulus Black."

Now onto the updates from this week!

*

Tomarrymort One Shots and Completed Fic

Chapter 22 (Completed) of A Shot in the Dark by Ragdolly

One Shot | The Dinner by moontear for @moontearpensfic

One Shot | There's Something About (The Way You Are) by Ragdolly

*

Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics

Chapter 12 of the stars, my destination by @milkandmoon-ao3

Chapter 1 of bad moon rising by sansaerys

Chapter 11 of Sits the wind in that quarter by @mosiva

Chapter 2 of a pound of flesh by @ictyn

Chapter 8 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear

Chapter 34 of Part One - The Solitude of Suffering by @iseliljathedreamer

Chapter 18 of Date Ideas for the Linguistically Inclined by Antique_Mango

Chapter 14 of Double-Aspect Paradox by TimaeusKosmou

Chapter 6 of God is a Wizard by @onehitpleb

Chapters 121 through 123 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis

Chapter 17 of Learning to love by @l-archiduchesse

Chapter 1 of The Cosmos In Your Eyes by @v33r00

Chapter 7 of Do It Over by @thefangirlibrarian

Chapter 6 of These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain

Chapter 21 of Time Stumbler by Wintumn

Chapter 4 of Hole in the Wall by tomrddle

Chapters 1 through 3 of Fetters of the Damned by @sc0rpiflow3r

Chapter 16 of Outrunning the Villain in You by @zenyteehee

Chapter 5 of midnight train by @girl-with-goats

Chapter 43 of Of Monsters, Of Men by @ca-xan-dra

Chapter 2 of the body is a blade by @lovely-lotus

Chapter 2 of Dream a little dream (of me) by @cenedrariva

Chapter 12 of Just Business by @holaolla1

*

[denial-permanente]

Hello Mrs Edge. I saw a post from a woman who had some guilt because she was weaning her husband off penetration and I wanted to share my own experience with this for her benefit.

For various reasons my partner had been unable to satisfy me for some time. When it started happening we went round to some of the adult shops and discovered sleeves and extensions, and from there we found chastity cages, and the harnesses and strapons available (I had no idea then it was called foxing and absolutely LOVE the expression!). I admit that I may have been more enamoured of the idea of "no more penetration" than he was 😂 but he wanted to please me, and I found the idea to be erotically intriguing.

I realized that in order to make "no penetration" work I had to condition him to accept it; that is, to retrain his masculine instincts to make him a better partner. It took some time but I found that it worked best to keep "foxing" nights penetration free (for him, of course!). He learned to fox me to my satisfaction (which you have no doubt learned can be absolutely fantastic!), after which he cleaned up and came back to bed to cuddle me off to sleep. Unlocking him was off the table on those nights because I wanted him to learn that foxing nights were for MY pleasure.

While I am excited to make him "penetration free," I am not ready to make him orgasm free, so about once a month I pick an evening to remove his cage so he can have an orgasm and some "intimate touch." Usually I have him rub against my bum with a little cream. As your husband noted in his response, this allows him an orgasm while reminding him that he is not allowed penetration. Sometimes if I feel especially generous, I have him lie back while I use my hands to bring him off. And I admit that I have come to relish telling him that my hand is the best that he can hope for, since he will always be denied my pussy 😈.

I discovered that it was best to have him clean up and replace the cage as soon as his orgasm was finished. For some reason making him lock up when he did not really want to keeps his attention level higher and returns his focus to me more quickly, which is my goal.

We have been doing this since Covid, and even though I now have him well trained, I do know that my "no penetration" regimen has not been easy for him. He wants to please me, but he is still a man so it is hard for him to hold back those urges. Naturally I felt a bit guilty about denying him at first, but as my confidence grew, I discovered that my new sense of power and confidence helped me to lead our relationship to new levels; indeed, we are both much happier than we were in the old days. Like you, I do not think of myself as a dominatrix, but there is no question between us that I have the power and control over my partner. If only our friends knew our secret!

Finally, I want to thank you (and your husband) for all that you do. Until recently, I had no idea that there were other people in a penetration free lifestyle. Like you, we are a totally normal appearing middle aged couple, more South London than Soho, if you know what I mean. A decade ago, had anyone told me that this could work I would have thought them mad. It has been so wonderful to see that there are other "normal" 😂 couples who live this way out of choice, not necessity. 💋🎶 Mistress Melodie

Hello Mistress Melodie! First, thank you for sharing your experience for Mistress Karin and other women who are learning about relationships like ours. And I agree that if someone had told me about this 20 or 30 years ago, I would have told them they were crazy!

While you did not say why you got into this, I like that you took charge and investigated things with your partner. Many of the messages that we get are from couples where the husband introduced it as a kinky thing and now their wife has no idea what to do. It sounds like you both have good communication and are able to talk to each other about what works for you both. Well, more for you, I guess. 😂

You call your relationship "no penetration," but obviously you mean that only for your partner. It's funny but I do not see my own relationship that way... rather, I think of the Ranger Vixskin as my husband's "real" cock now, like a replacement for the old one. And since I can make him come (in his cage, obviously), I really do not think about him lacking in anything. However... I have learned that men think of these things differently 😉. Maybe it's a different thing because you do unlock him for sexual things. My husband has said that sometimes that makes men even more aware of what they are not having.

I think that you bring up a good point about how the improvements in your relationship making it easier to deal with the pangs of guilt. My husband used to tell me that he was doing okay locked up, but it wasn't until I could really see the... improvements in his demeanor and feel how he was definitely happier around me that I could trust myself enough to keep him locked longer (and eventually permanently) and to just let any pangs of guilt float away. It's hard to explain, but I could just sense that he was more happy and content, even if he was having a bad time at work or if things were going on in our lives. Feelings like that give you the confidence to keep going, and having confidence in yourself and in your relationship means that you no longer feel like you "should" unlock him, or let him come, or allow him penetration, or do anything else that you might feel guilty about.

Thanks you again for commenting. If you have a Tumblr account, please message me to say hi and chat.

[gdn7-dollopole]

Why I believe Arthur isn’t attracted to women and my not so deep analysis over it (this is my personal opinion, and a mess, so bear with me)

Hear me out.

Not only Arthur is a very constipated man over pretty much everything, doesn’t show or openly says what he feels, especially in the first two seasons, but he doesn’t even have friends, except those that he is supposed to have because he is a regent, and later a king. His father is even worse, thought him nothing if hatred and repression, so we can say he sucks at socialisation, and I may or may not be projecting here, but I know what it feels like to be out of your bubble and enter the world feeling completely out of yourself, which is why Arthur is attached to the hip with Merlin, and is he so enamoured, attracted, shocked with him during their first encounter.

Back to my point, he is socially awkward, but I don’t believe that is the reason behind why he acts the way he acts towards every single woman character in the TV show. (his own bloody wife included)

Arthur doesn’t like women, repertory A:

First kiss with Gwen. Lovely, I always smile when I see it, but why. Like, Arthur thought he was going through with his death, just received a token of affection that no one had ever dared give to him, felt appreciated, like a beaten kid who receives his first hug, and thought: “Okay, well, might kiss her too, isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?” , dipped for a peck, and FLED RIGHT AFTER. His face showed no emotion, he basically just gave a shrug when he realised he and Gwen couldn’t be together and went on with his day. And honestly, if it wasn’t for the amazing soundtrack, I would just stare at the screen with a flat face during their first kiss. You can feel the difference between this scene and the one where Lancelot saves Gwen and tells her to run, and they kiss before they part, and THERE you can feel the longing, understand why there had to be a parting kiss. Arthur almost feels relieved that Uther won’t let him stay with Gwen after he survives, but whatever.

Repertory B:

Arthur, even if enchanted, stills asks Merlin for advices on “feelings” and “girrlllss”. This doesn’t need explaining.

Repertory C:

Men can be shy, obviously, even with women, but, as I cited above, Arthur has no idea how to socialise. His friends, hell, even his relationship with Morgana, wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for Merlin. So explain to me why Arthur doesn’t even look at Gwen until he has to, and goes around NOT CARING about women, unless Uther is the one throwing them at him, and then caves when a pretty man appears on the screen. I also believe this is the directors’ fault, who tried so hard to make the relationship between Gwen and Arthur real, that they just made a gay show, but Arthur, when he had more worrisome things to think about, he didn’t care about women, or girls, or courtship, in the slightest, until Elena gets in the picture and he has to think about marriage and a future with his queen, again. I firmly believe Arthur chose Gwen not because he loved her romantically, but because to him, she was the best choice amongst everyone else.

Repertory D:

The Knights of the Round Table. Arthur, a prince that throughout all three seasons has an hard time even speaking openly to Merlin without making fun of him, or to Gwen, suddenly fights his father over Lancelot (because he admired him quickly, and couldn’t understand that because of his sexuality, he felt very comfortable around a thoughtful man like him), drools over Percival the first time he meets him, probably thinking of how nice it could be to jump the giant like a tree, and has a love hate relationship with Gwaine, because Gwaine is everything Arthur envies. Free, open, and in a close relationship with Merlin, (a man) that Arthur forbids himself to have. (also, nice hair)

Repertory E:

Mithian. Arthur doesn’t spare a glance at a single woman in the show. He does it with Gwen (poorly) because he feels he needs to, and once again avoids marriage, and acts like a complete panic around Mithian in the entirety of the episode where she is introduced. He can’t take her compliment when he meets her the first time; he doesn’t realise that standing outside a woman’s chamber for that long can mean something else; he is affronted of having burped in front of her, not because he likes her and she is a woman, but because Arthur’s ego is too huge; this man has no clue over: “how to act around women”, because to him, women are people he isn’t attracted to. As simple as that. He finds Morgause irritating and not beautiful, like many others, because to him, she is just another very good warrior who has beaten his ass.

Repertory F:

Arthur doesn’t have sex with Gwen (oh, hot take). We never see them languidly stare at each other (unlike the eye fucking that happens between Merlin and Arthur. That’s not sexual tension that can be cut with a knife, it’s a wall of homosexuality where Arthur often bangs his head on) Yes, this show was very chaste, but definitely not intended for kids (see innuendos), so how could someone who should be close to Gwen, in any way possible, doesn’t recognise that his wife is bloody enchanted and she is trying to kill him? No, you don’t need to have sex with someone to understand that they want you dead and that they drastically changed their personality, but my brother in christ, this just proves me that Arthur was attracted to the idea of a peaceful kingdom, ruled together with an intelligent, fierce, and good woman by his side, rather than attracted, attracted to Gwen per se. The rest of the time he just followed Merlin around like a puppy. He married for love? I believe he married his best friend Gwen so that he didn’t have to go through the process of having kids. The heir had never been the problem. If it was for Arthur, he would have married Merlin the instant he met him in the market during the first episode.

Repertory G:

Do we see Arthur openly complimenting the women in the show? No. Also, because it’s not the point of the show. The point of the show is the homosexual relationship Arthur has with his serv—(he does it with Gwen and probably Mithian, because she is objectively beautiful, but I can’t remember other instances)

Last but not least:

Merlin.

Separately, Arthur, and here I’m adding Gwen, too, are both complex and well thought characters, lacking many things and contradicting themselves during the show, always because of how they were badly written in a lot of episodes. The Arwen scenes are lovely, but they don’t bring out anything. They don’t make you hope, giggle, despair, cry, because to me, there is nothing there to be tragic over. They just needed to fill a gap so that the people who didn’t like the idea of Merlin and Arthur together romantically would have something else to watch. Which is also the main ship of the show and it makes everything more hilarious, because they fucked it up so bad, LMAO.

The more you try not to make something gay, you just make it even gayer that what you had originally planned.

I had so many other points, but my ADHD said no. So if you want to add something else, feel free to do it!

[rynwritesreid]

Enamoured Expectations|| Spencer Reid

Summary: You and Spencer have been dating for a while (there isn’t a specific timeline in this story, so you could have been dating for as long as you want) and Penelope tells you a hunch she has.

Content: Established relationship. Use of Y/N and Y/L/N. This is all just fluff. Fem! reader.

words: 1.4k

Masterlist || Requests are open | Navigation

You were truly and utterly deeply in love with Dr Spencer Reid. You knew if you hadn’t been friends with Penelope, you two may have never met, and even if you had, you doubt that Spencer would have even given you a second look. Spencer treats you like a princess, he texts you every chance he gets when he is on a case, he buys you flowers and books when you are feeling down, he orders your favourite food when you don’t feel like eating, he calls you beautiful when you are feeling ugly, and he always says “I love you” before going anywhere.

 

Whenever the team was away on a case, you would go hangout with Penny. She was your best friend after all. You would bring her lunch and let her rant about whatever case they were all working on at the moment. She would always bring up how Spencer couldn’t shut up about you and how amazing you are. Penny thought she was the best match maker to walk on this earth.

 

On one particular evening, you were hanging out with Penny at her apartment. Spencer was away on a case, but he had called earlier to say goodnight and tell you he loved you. It was sweet and made your heart flutter with joy. You and Penny were watching a movie and munching on popcorn when she suddenly turned to you.

 

"Y/N, I have something to tell you," Penny said, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

 

"What is it?" you asked, curious.

 

"I think Spencer is planning to propose to you," she said, grinning widely.

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

Penny leaned in closer, a conspiratorial glint in her eyes. "Well, he's been acting super secretive lately, and he's been asking me a lot of questions about what kind of engagement ring you might like. Plus, he's been talking about the future a lot and how he can't wait to spend the rest of his life with you."

 

You and Spencer had talked about marriage before, you’ve even talked about having children. You had been in love with the idea of been Mrs Reid, and the mother of his children after the first month of dating each other.

 

But hearing that Spencer might be planning to propose felt surreal. You felt like you were in a dream, and you didn't want to wake up. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your hands were shaking with excitement.

 

"Penny, are you serious?" you asked, trying to contain your emotions.

 

"Dead serious," Penny replied, nodding her head. "I've never seen Spencer this happy before. I think he's finally ready to take the next step with you."

 

You felt a rush of warmth spread through your body, and you couldn't help but smile from ear to ear. You had been waiting for this moment for so long, and now it seemed like it was finally going to happen.

 

"I can't believe it," you said, still in shock. "I mean, I knew we were in love, but I didn't think he was ready for marriage yet."

 

“If you could hear how he talks about you, how he talks about his future with you, then you would understand that he most defiantly ready for marriage, and more.”

 

Penny's words hung in the air, and a smile slowly spread across your face as you felt a wave of happiness wash over you. You had always dreamed of spending your life with Spencer, and the thought of him proposing sent shivers down your spine. You could feel your heart racing as you thought about the moment when he would ask you to be his wife.

 

"Wow," you breathed, still trying to process the news. "I can't believe it. Do you really think he's going to propose?"

 

"I do," Penny said confidently. "And you know what that means, right?"

 

You raised an eyebrow at her, not sure where she was going with this.

 

"It means that you're going to have to start thinking about wedding planning," she said with a grin.

 

You laughed at her teasing tone, but inside, your mind was already racing with ideas. You had always loved the idea of a small, intimate wedding, surrounded by your closest friends and family.

 

*

Spencer had returned home from the case, he seemed down, it had obviously been a tough case. You hated seeing him like this.

 

You greeted him with a hug and a kiss, feeling happy to be in his arms again. As you both settled on the couch, you couldn't help but notice the sadness in his eyes. You reached for his hand, and he entwined his fingers with yours, holding on tight.

 

"Is everything okay, Spencer?" you asked, concerned.

 

He let out a sigh and shook his head. "It's just the case. It was a tough one, and I can't stop thinking about it."

 

“Is there any way I can help you? Do you need anything?”

 

“No. You just been here and been you is all the help I’ll ever need.”

 

You smiled at him, feeling grateful for his love and the comfort he always provided. You knew that talking about the case would help him, but you also knew that he needed some time to process everything on his own.

 

"Okay, well, if you need anything, just let me know," you said softly, pressing a kiss to his temple.

 

Spencer leaned his head on your shoulder, and you could feel his warm breath on your skin. You loved the way he fit perfectly against you, and you felt a deep sense of contentment wash over you.

 

"I missed you so much," he said, his voice muffled against your skin.

 

"I missed you too, Spencer," you replied, stroking his hair gently.

 

You loved him like this. He was open with you, he trusted you, and he was vulnerable with you. It made you feel like you had a special place in his heart, and that you were truly meant to be together. As you held him close, you knew that you would do anything to make him happy, and that included saying yes to his proposal.

 

Suddenly, Spencer sat up and turned to face you. "Y/N, there's something I need to ask you," he said, his eyes shining with intensity.

 

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes. You could see the love and affection he had for you, and you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for.

 

"What is it?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

 

Spencer took a deep breath and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small velvet box and handed it to you, his hands shaking slightly.

 

"Y/N, I love you with all my heart. You make me happier than I ever thought was possible, and I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else. And I imagined I would do this in a different place, at a different time. But you’ve made it impossible for me to wait any longer. Miss Y/N Y/L/N will you marry me?”

 

You felt a rush of emotion flood through you as you looked at the small box in your hand. You opened it to reveal a stunning diamond ring, sparkling in the light. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you realized that this was it. The moment you had been waiting for.

 

"Yes, Spencer," you said, your voice quivering with excitement. "Yes, I will marry you."

 

Spencer's face broke into a wide grin, and he pulled you into his arms. You could feel his heart beating against your chest, and you knew that this was where you were meant to be. Together, forever, and always.

 

As you both sat there, holding each other tightly, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the love you shared. You knew that this was just the beginning of your journey together, and that there would be many more ups and downs along the way. But with Spencer by your side, you truly didn’t care.

 

The rest of the night was a blur of emotions and excitement. You called your parents, and Spencer called his mom, to share the good news. You of course called Penny, while Spencer informed everyone else on his team. Everyone was thrilled for you both. You couldn't stop staring at the ring on your finger, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world.

 

This, this was it. Life was only going to get better from here. The world had brought you two together (the world basically been Penny) and you could not be more grateful. Nothing from your past, or his, mattered now. You two had a future together, a future where you would share the same name, and become a family. He was your great love, and you were his.

All reblogs/feedback/comments/likes are appreciated.

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[colourstreakgryffin]

Is there any chance you write for Adam from Hazbin Hotel? This man has a chokehold on me and I love him sm 😭 If not, I completely understand!!

If you do, could it be with a platonic reader? Like, Reader looks up to Adam ( for whatever reason 😨 ) and kinda just follows him around until he just questions them about and they admit they look up to him.

I COULD IMAGINE HE'S JUST LIKE "Ha! I fuckin' rock, so of course you would."

I am so sorry if this doesn't make much sense 😭

Whatever we like about Adam! I am all for this! I can actually see what you mean; You want it kinda like a big brother thing where we admire him and follow him around but then he confronts us about it and probably likes it since ego-play! I hope I mainly get what you’re asking, loves and thank you! And for real, I can just hear Adam’s voice reading out ‘Ha! I fuckin’ rock, so of course, you would’

Adam- Stem of the Apple

Adam has no clue why you’re following him around… yeah, he looks very cool and he is the best man. He is the original, the strongest, the most unique and the most grand but he isn’t sure if he appreciates fangirls following him around like lost clingy puppies

You just showed up in Heaven and you luckily got to see Adam, but you’re already enamoured by him? He is kinda confused but then again, anybody viewing him as superior is good to him

Adam, however, just decides to embrace it… for a little while. If you’re following him, it means you have good tastes and he won’t be against commending that. Though, he doesn’t really keep it to himself forever. Eventually, he just needs to know WHY you’re always right behind him

Adam suspects a good response. He suspects that you compliment or praise him, he deserves it. Give him what he deserves and don’t you dare hold back. So, as he turns to face you and confronts you, after maybe the fourth whole week of you following him around

He asks the big question: “Why are you following me, Bub?”

Adam is both pleased and surprised by your response. Yes, he’s surprised because you’re not romantically interested in him, you view him as a surrogate older sibling? That’s so interesting. He is basically your ancestor, as the first man ever, and yet. You’re assigning him as your brother

Since it’s amusing, Adam decides to entertain this little delusion fantasy idea of yours and proclaims you can follow him, as long as you always praise him. And just like that, you’ve become Adam’s left-hand angel, right beside Lute. You’re the little ‘sibling’ that gets to express how much they look up to him

Adam soaks up the glory and the praise, bringing you close to him and booping your nose. Just proudly claiming that you’re a good little one for admiring and looking up to the right angel in Heaven. He mainly likes you, due to how much you express what you find amazing about him. You’re his little complimentary machine and for that, he’s protective over you and keeps you away from those awful demons

Adam cannot afford losing his most favourite and most open fan. So, you don’t often do as much as work as he does, you’re more there to be given special treatment for expressing awe to him, further feeding his huge ego and it seems you don’t mind how crude or egotistical he is

You know Adam will show off to get praise from you so he’ll play his sick holy guitar at random, waiting for you to openly express how amazed you are at his guitar-playing skills and of course, he gets that as soon as he finishes. He has become quite a fan of playing his guitar and playing songs so his little fan-sibling can idolise him more

Adam will actually give you affection and gifts… conditionally. Only conditionally. If you praise him and give him all the egoistical fuel he requires, he will keep feeding your own admiration for him so the cycle continues

Does Adam view you as a sibling? Kinda… but mainly, he sees you as a way to fuel his greatness and he is kinda manipulating you but he does care about you. You’re a good person and for that, he can’t really bring himself to just push you away

“What’cha thinkin’, dove? Like the song? Yeah. That’s right, I am the best guitarist in this realm after all. Listen to my next work, you’ll love it”

[homelanderbutbig]

No Strings Attached (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1389 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

You give Homelander a back massage. Inspired by a post from @slasher-smasher.

It's taken a lot of trust to get to this point. One thing you've come to learn from Homelander is that he hates to take off his suit. When he's wearing it, there is a barrier protecting from the outside world. He's wrapped up in his security blanket, he's safe from harm and his own weaknesses. To be exposed… that's his kryptonite.

With his inhumanly tall height, he naturally gives off the air of superiority against everyone around him without ever really having to do anything. All he ever has to do to provoke fear is stand in front of someone, displaying both his towering presence and the dominance of his powers that lurk just beneath the surface.

While he always seems to go out of his way to refuse your inquiries about his suit, you also know he's already given you more access to himself that he has anyone else before. He willingly removes his gloves to hold hands with you, enamoured by the feelings of your tiny fingers running along the expanse of his palms. He loves to rest his head on your lap, allowing you to caress his cheeks and every inch of his face. He even lets you scratch his scalp, using your nails to reduce him to his base instincts and leave him purring heartily into your chest. These moments to him are far more intimate than just plain old sex; he's giving you his vulnerabilities on a silver platter, the fear of allowing himself to be stripped of his power over the masses in even a minute way.

And as much as Homelander genuinely relaxes from these cuddle sessions, you want to do so much more for him. He is consistently on the brink of burning out from both the stress of his job and the expectations placed on him from the Vought higher-ups, never allowed a vacation or a brief reprieve. He is their cash cow after all, their puppet whose strings are forcibly manipulated to make him dance for their amusement.

Today is no different. You're in his penthouse when he comes storming in, pissed at what Ashley's informed him. He's dropped six points from a recent blunder, and now the PR team is insisting he give a public apology. Standing in front of the myriad of reporters clamouring for the perfect angle, cameras flashing brightly in his face, all while he has to suck up to them… the worthless mudpeople.

You can tell how worked up he's getting just from telling you all this, and all he wants right now is to bury his head in your lap to let his worries fade away. However, this time you have another idea… and you won't take no for an answer.

"Come with me sweetheart," you coax him, grabbing hold of one of his massive hands to lead him into his bedroom. He follows with no resistance, yet he can't hide the confusion about this deviation of your normal routine. You know what he wants right now, what exactly are you planning? Once in his bedroom you hop up onto the mattress and he sits next to you, though his hands are nervously clenched on his lap.

"Please take off your top and lie down for me?" you ask, smiling at the near-instant look of fear overtaking his face the second he hears those words escape from your lips. "You can trust me big boy," you reassure him, giving him a gentle pat on his thigh.

Gradually you encourage him to unfurl his fists so you can help him remove his gloves. His wide eyes are glued on your every move as you carefully slide them off his hands and place them off to the side. You then maneuver around to his back to unhook his cape off of his eagle pauldrons, folding it neatly as you know he likes. And then comes the most daunting task.

"D-don't… d-d-don't look," he stammers quietly, incredibly anxious while waiting for you to shield your sight before he begins removing his suit. His movements are on autopilot while he tries his best to swallow his building nerves, dropping his top heavily on the sheets. He can't believe he's actually doing this, the one thing he's been terrified of since dating you. Showing you what he hides beneath his suit… the real Homelander.

You don't look until he's lying faced down into his bed, face partially buried into his pillow with only one of his distressed eyes showing. And even then he refuses to gaze over at you, so utterly consumed by the angst strangling his brain.

Kneeling in front of him, you reach out your hands to place them on his back. His eyes instantly shut tight as he takes in a sharp breath, waiting for you to touch him. It's a response that happens involuntarily, one that had been beaten into him from his childhood in the lab. Anytime the scientists laid their hands on him, it was never out of love. It was solely for experimentation. To poke, prod, stab, slice, inject, burn… 

And while they believed he was unable to truly perceive pain like humans do with his superhuman abilities… he felt it all. He always did.

But this time, your hands are different.

His eyes slowly open to glance over at you as your hands begin massaging his upper back. You lack the strength to properly relieve any tension in his muscles, but he can feel every ounce of your effort all the same. You are so gentle with him, every touch bursting with the love and care you have for him. There's something so therapeutic about the nature of your affection, how you bathe him in tenderness without any expectations in return. You aren't like Madelyn, not like Stormfront… not like anyone he's had strong emotions for before. You just… love him, no strings attached.

The tension he felt from his meeting with Ashley quickly melts away the longer you work your hands along his back, molding him into a malleable putty. Just like when you scratch his scalp, the sensations of your passionate fingers leave him at your mercy. He's powerless to fight the content little noises escaping from his mouth, practically purring in time with your massage. You can discern his deep voice vibrating through his body as you knead his back, each time he breathes removing just that much more stress from his weary mind.

"That feel good?" you question, still rubbing circles along his shoulder blades.

"Mmhmmph…" he eventually manages to hum, his placid voice muffled into the pillow. His eyes have started to flutter closed again, unable to fight the sleepiness creeping over him.

"Uh huh," you chuckle, pleased to see your devilish plan has worked. There's nothing that makes you more happy than to see him happy too.

You reposition yourself to lie directly on top of him, his wide back providing plenty of room for you to sprawl across comfortably. And while your weight is nothing to him, his hypersensitive senses leave him extremely aware of the warmth of your body on his bare skin. He's surprised at how much he likes that feeling too, how intimate it is knowing you're so close with him. Without the barrier of his suit, everything with you seems to be so much more special. And he adores it.

Scooting up to his shoulders, you wrap your arms around his neck and snuggle your head up against the side of his face. When he brings his arm up to offer you his hand to hold, you keep one on his shoulder while grasping his long fingers with the other. He delicately caresses your wrist with his large thumb as you return the favour along the back of his hand.

Everything about this moment is pure heaven; he feels you everywhere and he can't think of anywhere else he'd rather be.

"I love you Homelander," you whisper, kissing his temple before nuzzling back into his cheek. He gives you one last sleepy smile before he finally gives into his fatigue. He never really gets to take breaks like this, when Vought is constantly breathing down his neck. You know he deserves an uninterrupted nap right now.

And maybe in the future, he can trust you do this again.

[purinfelix]

could you please write something where trent pining for his bestfriend for a long time before he finally confesses to her that he has feelings?? thank you! i love your writing sm <3

something stupid ₊˚⊹

pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x reader summary: Trent’s never been the best at concealing his jealousy, especially not when it comes to you - even if the two of you are ‘just friends’ warnings: none w/c: 1k

a/n: had to combine these two because they gave me the best idea everrr ... anyways i missed writing for trent like i realised i don't acc write for him that much - soo pls send more trent reqss!! <33

♬ and then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like "I love you" ♬

Trent couldn’t decide what feeling was worse - the intense, almost burning jealousy ripping through him as he watched you from across the bar, or the even more intense guilt consuming him for even daring to feel that way. To feel such an all-consuming possessiveness over someone who wasn’t even his, and to be left with no option other than to loiter in the corner like some idiot, his grip on his drink growing tighter by the second.

You wouldn’t blame him, surely, you couldn’t. With the way you looked tonight, and the fact that you had personally invited him out with you - albeit with a couple mutual friends - but none of them mattered, at least not to him. It also didn’t help that you had spent the last couple of years, ever since meeting through a group project in some long-forgotten university class, dragging him through some sick cat-and-mouse game. Always toeing the line between being just close friends, or something vaguely more, and Trent hated himself for just going along with it, but he’d by lying if he said he didn’t enjoy how weak he was to your charms.

But as he watched you, his breath heavy and heart beating steadily, he couldn’t help but question whether you had meant to do any of it at all. He watched you throw your head back in laughter and hot jealousy pulsed through him once more, yearning for nothing more than to be the one making you laugh instead of whatever other guy you were lending your attention to. Still, you looked so happy, so at peace, he couldn’t help but curse himself for even considering the possibility that you were purposely making him pine after you. After all, it was his fault - he had still yet to muster up the courage to ask you out on a date, even after being stupidly enamoured with everything about you since the day he met you. It was probably more rational to consider that he had just misread most of your actions beyond the friendly gestures they were supposed to be.

Suddenly, his attention was turned to the steady arm of another one of your male friends snaking around your waist, which Trent had been dragging his gaze along excruciatingly slowly - but now his focus was turned to the fact that this asshole was pulling you closer to himself, and further away from Trent.

Fuck rationality.

The thud of his glass was definite, followed quickly by his heavy footsteps as Trent shoved past the small group you had amassed, not bothering to make his actions subtle. It was clear to everyone, including himself, that Trent was moving faster than his rational thoughts could form, but that didn’t seem to matter when his hand was already wrapped tightly around your wrist, dragging you in the direction of the bar’s exit. You protested, struggling against his grip, but all it took was one look from him as he turned back to you - equal parts pained and pleading - for you to go with him.

The biting cold of the late night hit you the minute you stepped out of the bar, causing you to stop straight in your tracks and huff with frustration.

“Trent, what the hell is going on with you?” your tone was demanding, not making any effort to conceal your annoyance with him.

“I wasn’t going to stand by and watch that filth lay his hands all over you,” he retorts, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was equally annoyed with you. But from the way he can’t stand still and his eyes are scanning the pavement, avoiding yours, you know there’s something else at play here.

“Bullshit.”

“Wh- I can’t do something nice for you?”

“Giving me a life, paying for dinner, those are nice things - not snatching me away when I was in the middle of a conversation? Why do you care if some guy touches me?”

“Why do I care?” he scoffs, almost as if he doesn’t believe you haven’t realised why yet, “Because I’m in love with you! You’ve invited my out tonight, and you seem to be having the time of your life, but when I saw you with that guy, him making you laugh, touching you, all I could think about was how much I wanted it to be me instead. How much I’ve always wanted it to be me.”

A silence falls over you two, and it’s only now that the weight of Trent’s actions have hit him, as well as the realisation that he can’t do anything to take back his words now, or stop whatever reaction you’re about to give him. He makes his regret obvious almost immediately, his flustered expression dropping as he looks down to the ground once more, unable to bring himself to look at you. His confession hangs in the air, having changed both everything and nothing at once.

You stood there, slack-jawed, mind racing yet absolutely speechless. You’d be lying if you hadn’t at least suspected Trent of having feelings for you, but you had brushed any inkling you had off as your own misinterpretation. Hearing him say it out loud was another thing entirely, and it was overwhelming your every sense, but in a good way.

The silence became too much to bear, and Trent figured he’d have to be the one to brave it, “Say something, please,” he mumbles, voice heavy, almost preparing himself for rejection.

“Trent…” you begin, stepping slightly closer and reaching out to take his hand in yours, “I’ve wanted it to be you too.”

At this, he looks up at you, eyes glistening. “Really?” the disbelief in his voice almost breaks your heart.

“Yeah,” you say, almost laughing at how ridiculous this is, “for a while, actually.”

“God, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear that,” he lets out an almost comical sigh of relief, finally breaking into a smile, and you can’t help but do the same.

“Now, I’d like to get back to my drink, if you don’t mind,” you say, but he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“Why would I mind?” he laughs, and you could slap him right there and then, but you can only smile in faux-annoyance as the two of you walk back to the bar, hand-in-hand.

[ozzgin]

Hi it’s me again 😁. I wanted to try to request something but it’s very specific so if you don’t like the idea or just don’t have the time you can just put it aside 😅.

It’s another female predator story but in this one reader is a preator that was born black with white markings which is seen as a bad omen ( i don’t think it’s real in the Yautja culture but let’s just role with it ). Reader was abandoned by her family and was found by a family of thanator ( you know those fierce alien panther from avatar ) so she was a savage and knew how to hunt without any tools from a young age. Her grandmother, a strong and important matriarch, found her and took her back to their planet. But reader doesn’t really have contact with her kind except for her grandmother and her thanators and she hunts alone a lot of dangerous enemies ( like xenoporph queens ).

I’m totally making the even up but let’s imagine it’s mating season and there is a huge a tournament to help yautjas find a good partner. Like wrestling, shooting or small combat matches… It’s time for the females to compete, reader is participating cause her grandma asked her ( she wants grandpups 😂 ) and is wrecking the events and catches the interest of many males. Especialy after the one on one fight where she would use a lot of her natural features and thanator fighting style ( we don’t really see them using there claws, feet or teeth a lot and it’s disapointing cause those are mass murder weapons). The males are enamoured and quickly process to begin the courting but reader doesn’t really know how to act with males and she never really paid it much attention before cause she’s usually hunting or founding and taking care of new alien pets companions. I bet the males are amazed with this unique and strong ( and kind of inexperienced 😏 ) female yautja.

Thanks for reading this ( long ass fuck to be honest 😂😅) resquest and i hope everything is alright for you, 😘 bye.

You'll have to excuse potentially wrong assumptions as I haven't watched Avatar and have no idea what it is about 🥲 buut otherwise I just detailed around your ideas, they’re pretty solid and I didn’t want to tamper with them more than necessary

Predator Headcanons: Predator Reader in Tournament

Featuring a Yautja female with an unusual background.

Everything happened so suddenly. Your peaceful like among your family, uprooted within seconds. One particular day and out of nowhere, a bizarre vessel hovered over Pandora's forests, alerting everyone in its vicinity. The intruders that teleported down caused even greater confusion: they looked just like you. Yet you couldn't understand their odd clicks and guttural noises, nor did you trust the intricate holograms and machinery pointed in your direction.

After what felt like an eternity - and with the help of a translator - the uninvited guests announced their purpose: to retrieve you and bring you back to Yautja Prime. Nonsense, you thought at the time. There's no "back" when your home has always been on this Planet. Despite your protests, you'd quickly learned that your hunting expertise was no proper defense against their foreign technology and so you begrudgingly accepted the proposal.

The first few months were, plainly put, depressing. The matriarch - you'd soon learn she is your remaining family - insisted on keeping your integration a secret at first. Many factors were still unknown to them: would you be able to learn their language after so many years? What about defending yourself against other Predators? Yautja communities are ruthless and unforgiving, and the matriarch could not risk killing off her only successor.

Thankfully you proved yourself efficient enough with your skills. Growing up in the forest has honed your senses, perhaps to an even greater degree when compared to a Predator who relies on modern weaponry. Impressed with the outcome, your grandmother decides to register you for the Grand Tournament. What better way to reveal the return of her long-lost suckling? You don't know what it entails, but the time spent hunting xenomorphs has gotten quite monotonous. You'd take any challenge to entertain you.

The gate opens and you step inside the ring without hesitation. There's a moment of silence, followed by suspicious murmurs from a confused audience. Unbeknownst to you, the patterns you're donning are not only a rare occurrence among the Yautja species, but a bad omen as well. The males are studying your movements carefully. It's not just your appearance; Your fighting stance is unusual, resembling a wild animal. And, as the end of the match quickly follows with an effortless win on your side, they're certain of one thing: they've found their mate.

You raise your first victoriously and don't even notice the predatory stares. Nor do you comprehend the sudden gathering of males that has formed towards the exit, awaiting your return. What's the meaning of this? You glare at the matriarch, and she responds with a smirk. You'll figure it out soon enough.