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#the turn away as he contemplates
raewentferal · 9 months
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LITTLESAILORMAN_TEST.MP4
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myplasticadversary · 1 year
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Hey wait, remember that thing Shiv said about how Kendall could go on a killing spree in a 7-11?
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adammilligan · 2 years
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okie dokie sticking this under a readmore so as to not clog anyone’s dashes <3
kind of interesting to me how au!michael defined himself by his titles to the point where they were the last words he spoke before he died. he's the commander of the host. he's the cleanser of worlds. how he made the angels call him "commander" in a way michael never did. and they're titles based on his accomplishments is the things! based on his status! and by contrast the only thing michael ever refers to himself as is a good son. which WOULD kind of encompass other titles like viceroy or prince of heaven but it's rooted in emotional attachment instead of material attachment. au!michael did his best to carve away his emotions and fill up whatever was left behind with things that are actually tangible because the last time he did anything out of love it ended with the brother he raised dead at his feet with no reward. he sneered at the thought of emotional connection afterwards! how he spoke about anael's desires alone was proof of that. and again by contrast you have michael who never did that to himself who spent a thousand years protecting and looking after the human who grew to be his friend in the cage and then you look at his ending and it's kind of like wait hold on au!michael was literally right about all of it. michael was happy but at the cost of it eventually destroying him because adam's death left him such a wreck that he resigned himself to crawling back to the father he knew would kill him because there was no point in doing anything else. like au!michael did accomplish so much in his world and michael accomplished literally nothing by comparison but he did know love in a way that au!michael didn't. but what does that mean in the face of rationality. what does that mean when the insane one out of the two of them was the only one to understand the truth. that god didn't care. does that make michael the insane one for clinging onto hope? the answer is no obviously because the second you compare the two it's kind of obvious who's legitimately evil but in the context of that question it makes me THINK. the insane one saw the truth and the sane one deluded himself in his grief. like yes clawing yourself to apathy drives you to madness but sometimes it's literally the only way to see the truth because emotions WILL lead you astray. thinking really really hard about what it means that au!michael went down swinging and michael went down without a fight. he just stood there and took it. either way doesn't it all add up to the fact that love will destroy you. in its absence or in its fullness
#au!michael's story started and ended with au!lucifer. that was who he loved most and the apocalypse was carried through and au!michael l#killed him and it was all for nothing. and the injustice of it all eventually drove him insane#but by contrast michael had adam in his life and a thousand more years to contemplate#and in 15x08 the argument scene already implied that michael saw adam's word as second only to god's#which by comparison by the way he only BARELY considered lucifer's words in 5x22 was already. nuts. but then#by the end of the episode michael handed over the spell he followed adam's advice which cemented adam's word as more important than god's#and therefore placing ADAM as the most important spot in michael's life because. at the end of all things. he loved him#REGARDLESS of what type of love it was he DID love him he cared about him so much it was unreal#and in doing so he cemented his own fate in a way. because when adam was ripped away from him he turned into that hollow shell of himself#that would eventually resign himself to dying by god's hand without lifting a finger in retaliation#and he did still love god that was the thing. because he never tried to claw his emotions out they were still very much THERE#so of course that love too would still be there.#this is sooooooo much rambling with no coherency god bless i am so tired but i love that michael got an actual alternate self mirror on#the show because my brain that absolutely loves comparisons latches onto that 24/7. and it is SO much fun#kate rambles#michael#alternate michael
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paint-music-with-me · 2 years
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No, no, no, NO! I WILL NOT OUTLINE A KISSABLE LIPS!AU FOR PATPRAN!
I will not outline a Kissable Lips!AU for PatPran where Pran has been stuck as an immortal vampire for nearly 500 years and was still grieving his lost love from so long ago. Then when he decides to go to another college (at the behest of Ink, who thinks wallowing in sadness for almost 100 years was getting old) as an architecture transfer, he bumps into popular yet lonely engineer student, Pat.
Pran is indifferent towards Pat until he smells his blood and feels this deep, unsettled part of him click into place. When he consults Ink, she mentions how this sounded similar to a passed friend who thought they found their soulmate when they smelled their blood but in reality, they found a pureblood who could turn them back into a human. For the first time in a long time, Pran felt hope hearing that story because finally, after failed attempts to end his immortality, there was a way to end his misery.
It was easy for Pran to get close to Pat, to befriend him. He just needed him - even if it meant breaking Pat's heart by taking his life, he'd do it. In his head, it'd be quicker than what Pran had suffered after he lost his love.
But then, the smallest things brought back memories long stored away, pushed away. Some parallels that hurt too much to remember between Pat and his first love - his words, his laugh, his eyes.
Meanwhile, Pat's crush on Pran has become so noticeable that nearly everyone on campus knows about it - except for Pat himself. But once it comes through, he decides to confess but runs into Pran literally feeding on someone/something. It doesn't dissuade his feelings for Pran though.
Things become even more complicated when Ming finds out that Pat has been hanging out with a VAMPIRE (for reasons, Ming had been meaning to talk to Pat about the world of vampires - not as hunters, but just to be aware) and when Wai (an old vampire friend) comes by to interfere and find a way to keep Pran immortal.
...
.....yeah....well I am NOT going to keep this idea stored away in my Google Docs along with my other PatPran WIPs! 😟😤😥
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hellenhighwater · 3 months
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When my nephew was four, a friend of the family passed away. The man was in his 90s and died of natural causes, and we were going to the funeral. We sat my nephew down and explained who this was, and that he had passed away, and now we were going to a sort of quiet party to celebrate him, and that there he might see the gentleman in the casket, and he might be very still, because he had died, but that everything was alright.
My nephew contemplated this calmly for a few minutes, and then said, "I think he will be very flat."
What.
It turns out that at age four, my nephew's only real context for death was roadkill, which he frequently pointed out while we were driving. He therefore believed that the only way anyone died was getting run over by a car.
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emphistic · 29 days
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Sight for Sore Eyes
Taglist: @starlets-things
Sukuna was exhausted, to say the least. His coach was being such a pain in the ass. But, as soon as he unlocked the front door and entered the living room, he was immediately alleviated.
Like most nights where Sukuna had basketball practice, you were given the job of babysitting his brother, Yuuji.
"Gotcha!" You scooped up the little critter in your arms and kissed his chubby cheeks. Sukuna assumed you two were playing a game of hide-and-seek, or something of the like.
"You wish that was you, huh?" His grandpa asked him, before patting him on the back and walking upstairs. Sukuna didn't respond, continuing to stare at you instead.
Yuuji squealed and giggled, squirming in your grasps. But when the kid noticed his brother standing by the door, his expression dropped.
You placed the pink-haired boy on the ground, wondering if he had gotten sick of you. "Hmm? What's the matter, Yuuji?"
"Are you going to go now?" Yuuji looked up at you with doe eyes, and clutched onto the material of your sweat pants.
"Why would I do that?"
Yuuji wrapped his little arms around your leg, "I don't want you to go."
You raised a brow, still unsure of what caused this sudden change in Yuuji's attitude.
A loud "ahem" broke the silence, and you turned to the source; Sukuna was home.
You bent down and picked up Yuuji, placing him on your hip, before walking over to his older brother. "Hello, my cute patootie." You kissed Sukuna on the cheek, in greeting.
He grunted, but pulled you back in for another ardent kiss, "I'll kill you one day," he mumbled against your lips. You tasted the chapstick, that you had recently bought for Sukuna, on his lips.
You laughed, "I'd like to see you try."
Yuuji interrupted the two of you guys by pushing his brother away with his little hands, "No, 'Kuna." Yuuji's eyebrows furrowed; making him look mad, and he buried his face into your chest, seeking your warmth.
Sukuna raised a brow at the little nuisance, "Oh? Looks like I have some competition now."
"Yuuji," you said, softly, "you know I have to leave now. Your brother's home, so he can take care of you, okay?"
The boy in your arms whined, completely ignoring your attempt of coaxing him. Sukuna laughed at his brother, and you frowned at him.
"Y'know," Sukuna crept impossibly closer to you, "you could just stay the night, right? It'll make Yuuji feel better, and me, too. You don't want Yuuji to be upset, do you?"
You acknowledged the fact that Sukuna was using his brother to guilt trip you, but you didn't care. Spending time with the Itadori brothers was always fun, not to mention, a little chaotic at times.
You huffed, "Fine."
Sukuna looked smug, at your response. "I'm gonna take a shower now. Care to join?"
You bit your lip in contemplation, looking between Yuuji, who was still snuggling in your sweater, and Sukuna, who held the most jerk-like expression on his face.
Sighing, you gave in, "I'll be there in a minute."
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cherrymoon4 · 2 months
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Suguru hates the taste of curses. He hates the aftertaste that persists in his mouth, that doesn’t leave no matter how hard he brushes his teeth or how much sickening sweet candy Satoru gives him.
Even when hours pass, no matter how many boiling hot showers he takes, nothing takes away the disgusting feeling that swallowing down curse after curse brings.
He has tried everything, every single thing that comes to mind to not have the aftertaste of a vomit soaked rag stuck to him for hours.
But nothing works, he is sure of that, he reminds himself as he leans over the bathroom sink, trying not to throw up after another “successful” mission and another curse swallowed.
As he takes deep breaths, trying to come up with something, anything, that could help him, he hears a knock on the door, followed by your gentle voice asking if he’s okay.
He’s always seen you as one of his closest friends, the one that is there for when he feels like no one can help him; when he knows Shoko is too busy with her own shit, and Satoru could only try to come up with a joke and probably wouldn’t take him seriously, he knows that the one he can always turn to is you.
Soft, sweet little you. Too kind for your own good, with a heart too big for your petite form. So selfless, always worrying over ‘Sugu’ even when he doesn’t deserve it, even when he pushes you away, not wanting to stain your pure self.
Just like right now, as he contemplates whether to let you in or tell you to leave. He pictures your pretty face in his mind, how it probably is adorned with worry and concern, your doe eyes big and glassy.
His heart clenches at the thought of you walking away all sad after he told you to leave. He can’t bring himself to push you away.
So he tells you come in, he just wanted to reassure you after all. But when he sees you coming in and rushing to check him over for any injuries, clad in your fluffy pajamas and fuzzy socks, his mind fills with images of him doing everything but reassuring you.
And that’s how he discovers that there is, in fact, something that can help him out.
He knows that this is all he needs, your pretty cunt in his face is where he belongs.
Your plushy thighs around his head and your sweet juices smeared on his cheeks are just what he needs to forget everything about curses and the awful feeling that they leave him with.
He reprimands you for keeping your heavenly pussy from him all this time; how could you be so selfish :(
He laps at your folds like a starved man, moaning in your cunt like he’s the one getting eaten out. And he’s so messy too! After all, how could he not be when he finally found the perfect treat to solve his problem?
“Fuck sweetheart, you’re such a messy girl mh?” he grunts, like he’s not the one turning his head side to side to smear your juices all over his face.
“This pretty pussy loves me so much, doesn’t she? Gushin’ around my tongue like that, bet it wants me to fill her up too..” he says as he toys with your puffy pussy and swollen clit, looking up to see you all dumb and stupid, babbling something about how it’s “t-too much!”.
But you clearly don’t know what you need, not when your hole keeps getting wetter and wetter.
“It’s not too much, silly girl. You can take it, I know you can. You want your Sugu’ to be happy, don’t you baby? You wanna be my good girl, yeah?”
And how can you deny him? You do want to be his good girl, his best girl!
So you spread your legs wider for him and let him lap at your messy hole, and you don’t even complain when you feel his thick cock prodding at your entrance, stretching your pussy nice and full :3
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hello ^^ ( thank you sososo much for the love on the other posts! send me requests if you want :P )
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deadsetobsessions · 4 months
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He could overlook a lot of things, but this was getting ridiculous. You’d think seasoned vigilantes would have better excuses prepared, but Danny had caught that flash of panic that crossed Tim’s face as Danny came face to face with Tim dragging an unconscious Steph to her designated room in the manor.
“Uh.”
“Danny! Uh, Stephanie brained herself- uh, sliding down the bannisters and- pleasedon’ttellBruce.”
Danny blinks, staring at Tim and then very pointedly, very slowly, turned his head back towards the direction he came from: the main hall… where the bannisters were. He wonders what vigilante hijinks they were trying to hide from B this time.
Tim coughs, trying to inch Stephanie away. “Uh. She was doing… cartwheels?”
Danny let his eyes slowly take in the bruises that were clearly not from “cartwheeling in the mansion” on the both of them. There’s a huge bandaged cut on Steph’s forearm and a giant bruise on the edge of Tim’s jaw. Tim’s face twitches nervously, not that anyone else would have noticed- except Danny has enhanced ghost senses and could feel the panic coming off of his adopted brother.
“You know…” Shit, what does he do? Not knowing would be so much easier if these idiots gave him good excuses! “I don’t think I want to know what you two have been up to… but should I be worried for your, uh, physical health?”
“Nope!”
“… Okay.” He says. Tim opens his mouth to make further excuses but Danny adds quickly, “But don’t tell me, because if Bruce asks, I want plausible deniability.”
Cartwheels, Danny’s ghostly ass. Luckily, this show of doubt reaffirms Tim’s belief that Danny believes them all of the other times. Danny grins inwardly, planning capitalizing on the guilt that flashed over Tim’s face.
“Deal.”
“Want help?” The halfa points at Steph, who’s still being dragged over the carpet by a noodle armed Tim. Danny knows Tim’s strong, he’s a vigilante, but it’s funny watching him pretend to struggle.
“Please. I’m so tired right now.” He looks it too. Danny’s brows furrow with genuine concern when he takes in Tim’s drowned raccoon look. He picks up Steph, firmly removing her from Tim’s suddenly weak grip. Being careful to avoid her injuries, Danny nods at the door to her room. Tim cracks it open and does a little showy gesture towards the inside.
“C’mon, we’ll tuck her in and then I’ll tuck you in.”
“What, you don’t have to do that.”
“If you don’t let me tuck you in and make sure you sleep, I’ll tell Alfred who really accidentally poured boiling hot coffee on his azaleas last week. And I’ll sic Dick on you and tell him you haven’t been sleeping enough.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” Tim grumbles. “But fine. It’s really not my fault I’m this tired. A missing spleen is hard to handle, you know.”
“Yeah, missing an organ sucks,” Danny says, shit eating grin hidden long enough to catch the contemplative bloodhound look that passes over Tim’s face.
“Which- uh, which one of your organs is missing?”
“Liver.” Danny says, remembering the flashes of pain. He tilts his head away to hide the grin at Tim’s panicked face.
When he tucks Tim in, he pretends to believe Tim’s sleeping act and left his room while mumbling about the Wayne’s clumsiness and bruises and stocking up on bruise cream. He couldn’t even enjoy Tim’s floundering, this time, worried as he is.
——
“Brother.” Danny half turns his head, just to beam a sunny smile at Cass. He signs an exuberant hello. The halfa hangs up his coat as he addresses his adopted sister.
“Cass! What’s up?”
“Dinner.” She smiles back, signing that Alfred wanted them to the dinning room post haste. The main dining room, because rich people were fruit loops and Batman is totally included. Cassandra looks down and gasps.
What…?
Oh. Fuck. Danny glances down. He genuinely forgot about that.
“Huh.”
“Okay?” Suddenly, Cass is right next to him, hand reached out and hovering over the actual knife Danny forgot was sticking out of him. At least it’s where his liver should be, so he won’t have to pretend.
“Oh. Yeah, I’m good. Don’t have a liver.” Danny decides on the spot that he’s not gonna mess with Cass. She smiled the same as him. “Got mugged on the way back but I think they said I could keep the knife, right?”
“Danny.” She’s frowning at him. He feels like he just kicked tiny Cujo. But he doesn’t feel bad enough to blurt everything out.
“Here. You can have it if you want?” Danny casually pulls out the knife and holds the wound together with his bare hands. Cass looks more alarmed. She bodily picks up Danny and starts running.
“Woah!”
Cass throws him at Alfred, gently.
“Miss Cassandra! Why, I never-!” Alfred pauses in surprise.
“Uh. Wow, Cass. You’re really strong.” Danny pipes up, hand still over his gushing wound.
She ignores him, pointing at Danny and telling Alfred, “Hurt. Got mugged. Dumb.”
“Hey! It’s not my fault Gothamites are ready to jump people at any moment. Besides, it’s daytime. It’s not like the vigilante furries are out to save my butt. I think I did really well coming back safe, you know?”
“Hurt. Forgot the knife. Was in him.”
“Master Danny!”
Danny pouts. He also knows there’s a discreet camera in the corners of the sitting room, so he’s definitely hoping he could phase into the cave when Barbara eventually tells the group that he called them “vigilante furries.”
Alfred clucks his tongue and set to work patching him up. Danny tries not to bask in the careful way Alfred tended to his wounds. It reminds him too much of Jazz, if Jazz was British and a man with greying hair.
But because they were watching him and he was watching them in return, Danny noticed the moment Alfred’s hands stalled and Cass’ gaze got intense. What now…?
Oh, fuck, his vivisection scar. Oops. Danny smiled, channeling Dani (his lovely clone sister) at her most innocent.
Cass smiled back, just as sunnily, fists tightening at her side in repressed fury.
——
“Cass? Why’d you call us?”
“Yeah, baby bat. I got a couple o’ smugglers to talk to.”
Cass paces.
“What is it, Cassandra?” Damian tuts impatiently.
“Danny. Has… scars. Autopsy. But was struggling. When cut.”
“What.”
“A vivisection, Master Jason.” Alfred’s voice was crisp and eerily cold. His hands are folded, rage only held back by his sheer will and a well practiced sense of propriety.
“We find. Who hurt him,” Cass snarls. “We. End.”
Jason’s eyes glint green, hands going to his guns. “Fine. By. Me.”
“It does tie in with the dead comment. I wonder what happened to him.” Tim clacks away at the bat computer, furiously looking into the matter already. Bruce has taken to prowling, stressed out at the prospect of one more of his children- not a vigilante at that- getting hurt the way Jason had. Worse, even. A vivisection. He was alive, dissected. Aware enough to struggle. Dick looked like he was torn about hunting down and lunging at whoever hurt Danny to rip their throats out with his bare teeth versus the urge to go back up to the manor and wrap Danny in bubble wrap.
In the corner, Danny was having a quiet breakdown because he came here to watch them react to vigilante furries, not offering to murder the people who vivisected him. What the fuck?? He ran his hands through his hair, invisible.
——
“Oh, by the way, we should consider more daytime shifts.”
“Why?” Spoiler asks Barbara.
“Danny got mugged. And called us the nightly furries.”
“The fuckin’ what-?” Jason chokes out, laughing. Bruce stops his pacing, body language becoming slightly offended.
Danny muffles a laugh only Alfred would have heard.
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etheries1015 · 4 months
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The Twisted Wonderland orange peel theory
The orange peel theory: A theory in which one requests their significant other to peel an orange for them. If they say yes, then it means they are willing to do small tasks for their lover. If they say no, it may suggest they are less willing to offer support, the theory says.
featuring: Lilia, Malleus, Trey, Rook, Vil, Leona, Ruggie, Ace, Deuce, Riddle, Jade, Floyd
Sitting around in the presence of your beloved whilst holding an orange, you glance at him contemplating something. You decided to put him to the test! Will he pass?
General warnings: Gender-neutral reader. Also if you don't like oranges/are allergic to them, just imagine something else! <3
TW: None! Just fluff <3
Lilia
Your fae lover sat at his computer playing away at his video game while you lay upon his bed fiddling with an orange in hand. You glanced over at him, turning around to lay on your stomach and holding out the orange.
"Lilia, love?" You asked.
"Yes, darling?" He replied, eyes glued to his screen
"Will you peel this orange for me please?" He paused his movements and turned his head to look at you with a carefree smile upon his face. Without hesitation, he grabbed the orange out of your hand and began peeling away at the skin and discard it in the garbage that sat next to his gaming desk. You giggled slightly and thanked him with a kiss against his cheek, Lilia removing himself from his computer and engulfing you in a hug tackling you to the bed.
"If you wanted my attention, surely you could have found something more creative than peeling an orange, my little bat~"
verdict: Pass! He had the wrong idea of your intentions, but he still won.
Malleus
"Malleus," You asked the tall male, interrupting his focus in crafting the gargoyle he had been paying attention to, holding out the orange in your hand.
"Yes?" He asked, averting his attention from his craft to attentively look at you. He glanced at the orange and flicked his eyes back to yours, tilting his head in confusion.
"Will you peel this for me, please?" Malleus had furrowed his eyebrows ever so slightly- a frown upon his lips as he studied the fruit.
"Are you struggling with peeling it by yourself?" He asked in genuine concern, grasping your hands to study them, "Are you experiencing any pain that is hindering your skills?" You giggled at his strangely focused pout while analyzing your hands, it wasn't even a moment later before he used his magic to lift the orange, peel it, and even take apart each of the slices before grabbing it with his hands and holding one to your mouth.
"Here, I shall feed you. No need to further strain your hands, dearest."
Verdict: Pass...? he has the spirit!!
Trey
The moment you were studying the orange dubiously with an interesting look of focus immediately caught his attention. You didn't even have to ask Trey before he was asking for you!
"Would you like me to peel that for you? You've been staring at it for a while," He chuckled. You smiled up at him and held out the orange with enthusiasm and a nod. He took it gracefully and peeled it perfectly, handing it back and throwing away the peels for you.
"You're the sweetest," You smiled whilst popping a slice into your mouth, Trey responding with a bashful smile and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
"There's no need for that...you just seemed deep in thought, so it was more or less an excuse to bring that up. Is something on your mind? You can talk to me about anything."
Verdict: Pass with flying colors!
Rook
"Rooook!" You called out holding an orange to the sky, "Can you peel this orange for me, please!? I don't want my hands to smell like oranges!" You seemed to be calling out into the woods at nothing, but in reality you were sitting against a tree waiting for Rook to finish hunting. You decided to put his loyalty to the test. You heard rustling around before an arrow zoomed past the top of your head, piercing the orange out of your hand and hitting the tree.
Your jaw slacked open, mortified.
You trusted Rook with your life, yes, but he likes to test this sometimes.
"If that is what your heart desires, of course I shall peel this orange for you, my beloved!" He skipped over and took the orange off of the tip of the arrow and began to peel away at it. You stared at him in horror.
"...Rook."
"oui?" An innocent smile as he worked away at the...now miss-shapen fruit.
"Go get me a new orange."
Verdict: ...Questionable pass..? He went and got you a new orange, and peeled it properly for you.
Vil
"Can you peel this for me?" Vil glanced over with furrowed eyebrows and a frown upon his perfect features.
"Why do you require my assistance in peeling an orange? Are you unable to do it yourself?" The question was valid and innocent enough, but you were determined to go through with this challenge.
"Just do it, please?" You gave him puppy eyes, "I don't want to get the peeling under my nails." An excuse you felt he would be able to understand, surely!
"And you believe I do?" He retorted.
Touché...
You flashed him a pout, and he caved. Vil sighed and held out his hand for you to place the orange, slowly and with care removing it's peel. You gave him a bright smile and a little giggle, for you knew he always caves eventually when it comes to you. He loves that part of you though, how you seem to always brighten up at the smallest of things. It's a part of your charm.
"What are you giggling about? It's just an orange, silly potato. You get excited over the most random of things..."
Verdict: Pass with some push
Leona
"No." He was pretty immediate to reject your question. You began to whine and pester him.
"Leona! Please? Will you do just this little thing for me?" You gave him puppy eyes, to which he sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes.
"Why can't you do it yourself?"
"Because I want you to do it."
"That's not an answer."
"Why do I need to have a reason?"
"You woke me up from my nap to peel an orange."
"And?"
He turned around to fall back asleep, you responded with shaking his body and complaining to your lover. Leona turned his body and used his strong arms to pull you into his chest.
"Stop your whining and take a nap with me, herbivore. The orange can wait."
Verdict: Fail...? but in a weird way. You get it?
Ruggie
"Eh?" Ruggie looked up at you with wide eyes, "Peel an orange? Why?" You pouted at the brown haired heyena and placed your free hand upon your hips.
"Because you're my boyfriend, and i'm asking you oh-so-nicely..." He shrugged and took the orange, peeling it.
And then, when you thought he was being extra nice to you and peeling away the slices for you to eat, he took half of the orange and popped it into his mouth. Much to your dismay.
"My orange!!" You complained. Ruggie handed you the other half and laughed.
"What? There's always a price for labor, even if it's just an orange! Besides, you're my s/o, and I wanted it oh-so-bad...sharing is caring, right?"
Verdict: Pass...and you made him go get you another orange. In which he also ate half of before it got to you.
Ace
"Peel this for me," You said in the middle of watching a movie, holding out the orange. Ace eyed it dubiously before looking back up at you.
"Eh? Why can't you do it yourself?" He whined, "I don't wanna smell like oranges."
"Ace, please? for me?" He gave you a deadpan stare and you spent a solid minute just looking at each other in a silent battle. He then sighed loudly and obviously theatrically, snatching the orange away from you and peeling it (not without some attitude.)
"I don't get it...I've seen you peel oranges so many times. I don't think you actually care about smelling like oranges, somethin' else is definitely going on here!"
Verdict: Lowkey failed, but that's okay. Eventually, it worked!
Deuce
"Deuce, can you peel this for me, please?" You asked the blue eyed male, offering up the orange.
Deuce was pretty fast to jump to the opportunity to peel it for you. He likes when you can depend on him on such tasks that are seemingly mundane, it makes him feel important, that you trust him. Even though it isn't that deep. Grabbing the orange and peeling it with eagerness, you smiled fondly at him.
"Here you go!" He said proudly, handing you a...messily peeled orange. It wasn't very pretty, you could see parts of the orange where he managed to either miss some of the peel or scraped some of the main part with his nail by mistake. But that didn't matter to you.
"Sorry it isn't the best...I should practice peeling oranges so it's perfect next time. Huh? You were just testing me? Don't worry, i'll do anything you ask of me! It's important to work as a team, so you won't have to worry about doing tasks by yourself!"
Verdict: Pass, he's a little angel
Riddle
"Riddle," You said taking him away from his studies, "Will you peel this orange for me?" The red head set down his pen and looked over at you and then the orange, holding out his hand for you to give to him right away.
"Of course. Hand it here." You gladly gave him the orange and he peeled it perfectly, cleanly, and discarding the peels right away and standing up to wash his hands.
"I don't mind doing such things upon your request. It's a healthy snack too, much better than the chips and other things I see Ace and Deuce sneak around...hm? No, I don't mind if you eat your orange while we study. Now... where were we?."
Verdict: passed with flying colors (Already knew about this theory beforehand, but wouldn't let you in on that!)
Jade
It was pretty simple, you handed the orange while he was reading something, and he peeled it without you even asking. He peeled it while reading, handed it back to you, although handing you the peels to throw away yourself. You smiled and gave him a kiss on his cheek, Jade chuckling in response.
"Were you testing me with the orange peel theory? What, are you surprised I know of it's existence? I actually anticipated you would attempt it at some point. I see some of the things you like to look up. How do I know what you search online? ...hehe. That's a secret."
Verdict: Pass! ...with a few extra questionable things!
Floyd
"Haahhh?" He looked at you with his signature look of annoyance and dismay. "What'dya mean you can't peel an orange? I don't wanna either," He whined, going back to...whatever weird thing he gets up to in his free time.
"Floydddd," You pouted, "Please? for me?" He looked at you, then the orange. Then you, then the orange. This went on for a minute.
"Fine. I'll go ask Jade." You fled the scene before you could reap the consequences of your statement, hearing his loud protests from afar and the sound of scrambling to catch up to you...
Verdict: Fail. Big big fail. Sorry Floyd lovers.
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buckyalpine · 4 months
Text
40's baby Bucky & baby Reader, Present Bucky x Reader, all the flufff, a lil angst but it just adds to the fluff, promise
Bucky sat under the tree with a very prominent pout on his chubby face, his arms crossed against his chest with his brows pulled together. He wasn't happy. Not one bit. Not after his favorite ball was kicked over a fence by the other neighborhood boys.
"Bucky, do you want to play with me?" You toddled over to your best friend hoping to lift his spirits after seeing him so grumpy only to be met with a huff.
"No! Go play with Stevie instead. Leave me alone!" He frowned, brushing you off and turning his back at you to sulk facing the tree instead.
"But-
"I don't want to play with you" Bucky grumbled. Your bottom lip wobbled, dropping your shoulders as you walked off and sat by yourself under some shade on your porch. You didn't have many friends being the youngest and only little girl on your street; Bucky and Steve being the only two who included you in their games.
"Bucky's mean" You picked up one of your dolls, setting her up beside you while you toyed with a wild flowers, doing your best to keep from sniffling after he shooed you away. You knew he was upset but you wanted to make him feel better!
Of course it didn't take long for Bucky to feel bad, peeking over to see your fallen face sitting all alone on the steps of your house, eyes wet with tears which you were desperately blinking back. He got a bad feeling in his little pudgy belly, knowing he wasn't very nice to you. He knew his ma wouldn't be very happy if she heard how he'd spoken to you, especially after you were just trying to brighten his mood. He got up from his place on the grass, nicking a few flowers from his garden before shuffling over to you only to be met with your now grumpy face, crossing your arms and turning away just like he did.
"I'm sorry y/n" Bucky came and plopped beside you, moving the doll away, while clutching onto a few pink tulips. You didn't respond, still mad at him for being mean to you when you'd done nothing wrong. "C'mon jellybean, pwease?"
His baby blues were shining bright as he gave you his best puppy eyes, hoping you'd forgive him. You felt a giddy at the name he called you, one he'd given you because he thought you were sweet like one. You turned to face him while he gave you a shy little smile, placing the flowers onto your lap.
"I brought you flowers" He stated proudly, happy at the giggle you let out, setting them aside before tugging at his hand to run off and play.
-
"Y'promise you'll come back?" your eyes were wet with tears again although you were now 20 years older and the chubby boy you grew up with had grown into a very handsome soldier. He stood before you in his clean and pressed uniform, his face shaven, hair neatly cropped.
"Of course doll" He whispered affectionately, letting his thumbs swipe across your cheeks, kissing away the tears that fell. "I'll always come back to you jellybean"
"You better" You sniffled, standing on your toes to chase more of his lips as he pressed them to yours, his hands wrapping around your waist, picking you up with ease.
"M'gonna come right back to you, safe n'sound" He held you for as long as he could, rocking you close to his chest while you fought back a sob, giving him a brave smile instead.
"I love you Jamie"
"I love you jellybean"
That was the last time you saw him.
-
"This is a bad idea"
"When have I ever had a bad idea" Tony scoffed, continuing to tinker with his quantum portal while Bruce looked over numbers.
"It's not stable enough Tony, if we send someone through this, they could get stuck in an alternate timeline or we could end up changing the future-
"Yea, yea, stop worrying, hand me that spanner"
Bruce sighed, handing over the tool while contemplating on the safest way to test the machine. It wasn't ready to handle anyone actually travelling through time but at the very least they could potentially open portals to the past.
"We gotta put in a location to see if this works-how about-" Tony contemplated on a location, his eyes growing wide with excitement when he spotted Steve's diary that he'd left behind in the lab, "Let's see if Captain has any interesting places from the 40's"
"Why wouldn't you just see if we could get to the compound garden" Bruce groaned while Tony flipped through the pages, typing in an address that had been scribbled in. It was from a list of places Steve wanted to visit again from when he was a child, the address of the person listed under friends. There was only one other person listed there other than Bucky.
"Alright, call the others, let's see if this baby works"
"You're going to get us all killed" Bruce shook his head while calling for everyone to come to the lab. By now everyone was used to Tony's antics; the only one who was genuinely giddy with excitement was surprisingly Bucky. One thing he'd always loved was science; even his stoic expression couldn't hide the twinkle in his eye every time he got to see another Stark experiment.
"Glad you all made it. Now, thanks to Cap, we're going to see if we can open a portal that travels back to the 1940's. I suggest you all stand back since I haven't actually tested this before"
"Why are you like this" Nat snorted while Tony waved her off, pushing a few more buttons before hitting start. Bucky watched from the safe sidelines of the lab as the machine began to vibrate, a low buzz growing louder until a portal roared to life that lead to the inside of someone's home. Bucky and Steve were both stunned from shock seeing a flash of a very familiar living room for no longer than a second before the whole thing closed with a bang and a large puff of smoke in its place.
"Well done Mr. Playboy billionaire dumbass" Sam wheezed while the team was left coughing, the room cloudy as the loud buzz began to dull. "What was the location you even put in-
Sam stopped talking midway when he heard another voice coughing followed by mumbling coming from the place where the portal closed. The smoke hadn't yet dissipated but the shadow of a person was slowly becoming visible. Everyone froze when they realized there was someone on the platform, wondering who could've been sucked through.
"Bruce, turn on the fan-" Bruce hit the lab fan which pulled helped with the smoke revealing a young woman in a flower printed dress. An apron was still tied around her waist, flour streaked across her cheeks, a rolling pin still in her hand. "What the-
"JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES"
Bucky thought he was going to collapse as soon as he saw who was on the platform, his heart fluttering madly in his chest. He couldn't control the blush that crept up on his cheeks, butterflies bursting in his tummy, just as they did all those years ago. The young woman stormed up to the soldier, face full of fury as her palm smacked his cheek (Not hard enough to actually hurt him of course).
"HOW DARE YOU"
Everyone else in the lab silently congregated to one side watching curiously though Steve was still utterly frozen seeing-
"Y-y/n? Doll?"
"Don't you doll me" you whacked his arm with your rolling pin, huffing when it clanged back after hitting metal. That didn't seem to faze you as you switched and hit the other arm instead, making Bucky yelp. "You lied!"
You dropped your makeshift weapon to the floor, moving your hands to your hips instead, looking up and down at the man you loved with your entire heart, the man who you mourned for years after you were told he was dead. He looked much different from when you'd last seen him, the most obvious difference being an entirely new arm. His cheeks were scruffy and it was clear some form of time travel had taken place but none of that mattered. None of that mattered when the love of your life was standing right there, alive and well.
"Oh baby, no-
"Absolutely not Barnes" you huffed at the pet name he gave you, crossing your arms over your chest and Bucky thought he'd melt into an absolute puddle at the sight. He was thrown back to when you were both no more than 4 years old, with a cute little frown on your face whenever you'd get upset. "You left! I thought you-I thought you died!"
The sound of your voice cracking broke Bucky's heart, his hands itching to wrap you up and pull you close to his chest the way you loved. He could see your eyes twinkle with tears threatening to spill out while you rapidly tried to blink them away. You chewed on your bottom lip to keep from wobbling and it only made Bucky yearn to hold you and never let go.
"Sweetheart please, I didn't mean to leave you doll, I promise" He stepped closer to you, hesitantly reaching out to take your hand in his, not feeling the slightest bit conscious about his metal arm. The coolness of his hand calmed your racing heart while you sniffled, still refusing to meet his eyes as you stared down at your feet instead.
The day you'd been told he'd never come back had been the worst day of your life. You wept for months on end, losing the man you were waiting to marry. The only person you'd been in love with since you were 4 years old.
Seeing you standing there before him stirred feelings in Bucky h never thought he'd feel again. Having a home. A beautiful wife. Little chubby babies. All with his dream girl he'd loved all his life. There wasn't a day that had gone by where he didn't think about her. He didn't think he'd ever get the chance again but here you were, dusted in flour like you always were whenever you were in the kitchen, in a pretty dress he loved so much, fighting your cries after desperately missing him. He softly cupped your cheeks, swiping away at your tears, his forehead coming down to softly rest against yours. He smiled through watery eyes at your stubborn nature, still keeping your arms crossed while his nose bumped with yours.
"Jellybean" Bucky whispered, your heart melting at the name, swallowing the lump in your throat, "Please? I-I'll- I'll bring you flowers" He said with a shaky voice, nearly toppling over when you flung yourself into his arms. He caught you, squeezing you right back and lifting you off the floor to cradle you nice and tight before pulling back to smash his lips against yours. The collective sniffles and whistles from the team were drowned out by your soft giggles and warm lips.
"I missed you so much" you buried your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him, the one that comforted yo the most.
"You have no idea how much I missed you jellybean, never letting you go again"
"Terminator, you wanna introduce us?" Tony was the first to speak up, not so subtly wiping away at his eyes while Bucky continued to look at you with heard eyes, introducing you to everyone. You could only wrap your head around so much at a time but nothing truly mattered now that you were back with your soldier.
And of course your other best friend.
"Steve" You giggled as Steve lifted you up with ease into a tight hug, grinning at his two friends finally getting the life they deserved together.
Seriously imagine how sickeningly cute these two would be. Bucky is so excited to teach you all about the future. He gets to show you how to use all the new technology around the compound. He's so naughty about it too, teasingly telling you he'd be happy to help you in the shower if there's any questions you has about water temperature.
He doesn't waste any time with asking to marry you. Its everything you've ever dreamed of and more considering Tony took the bill and ran. Bucky can't put into words how happy he is finally getting the life he thought was ripped from his hands.
On your wedding night, Bucky spends hours loving on you like there's no tomorrow which is why a few months later, your belly is swollen with your first baby. Bucky is thankful for the future because as excited as he is to start a family, he's scared shitless something could happen to his jellybean.
"Bucky, I'm fine-
"Absolutely not, why are you up Jellybean, go sit down, I'll bring breakfast to you"
"I can still walk y'know-
"Nope. You stay right there, don't move mama, just rest"
When you do have to move around, he's there holding your baby bump, feeling giddy over becoming a dad. He can't wait to meet his little baby that he's made with his dream girl.
After his son is born, he waits for your body to heal but no ones surprised to see you with a new bump not too long after.
Two baby boys are no match for all the avengers but they all happily share their god father and god mother duties.
Your third is a little girl and she's going to be spoiled by everyone.
Somewhere along the way, you get a white fluffy cat.
Bucky's life has never been better.
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ohbother2 · 3 months
Text
Lucifer x f!reader - Forced Proximity
PART II
PART I
This was supposed to come out at the weekend, but holy shit the previous part already has 1k likes so here you go a few days early.
This is just smut, no plot, you've been warned. Minors DNI.
Btw I'd love to hear your feedback! I'm not very experienced at this type of writing, so I'd love to know what you think!
(Srsly, thank you guys for the amount of love on the previous part, don't think I've ever had a piece of writing be so popular)
Tag list - @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx
--
"You know," You complain, letting him guide your face back down towards him, you prop your weight on your hands either side of his head, not allowing him to pull you into another kiss quite so soon. "you could've let him leave the door open. I'd quite like to be able to see you."
His free hand slides down from its place against your shoulder blade, and he hums contemplatively as it slowly trails down your spine, finally resting on your hip. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and he looks as though he's struggling to focus.
"You can look at me later." He tries to crane his neck upward, but you're determined and turn your head slightly, his lips only finding the corner of your mouth. He groans in frustration.
Realising you weren't going to kiss him any time soon, he presses his lips against the side of your throat, giggling into your skin when you gasp in surprise. He doesn't stop though, and you feel his fangs graze against your jugular teasingly.
"Are you not uncomfortable?" Both of his hands are now on your thighs, rocking you gently.
"God, no." He mumbles against your throat, too distracted with covering the areas of sparse unblemished skin he had glimpsed when the cupboard had been opened. "I'm very happy here."
"We could've gone somewhere with more room." Your eyes close, sinking into his touch as he peppers kisses along your collarbone. You start moving your hips lightly to join his movements. He exhales deeply, one palm pressing against the small of your back to press you down onto him.
"And where would we be?" His voice is quiet, husky, and muffled against your shoulder. The question was non-commital, not expecting you to answer.
"Your desk."
He inhales sharply and his claws dig into your thighs painfully, you feel him stop breathing beneath you. His lips detach from your neck and when you glance down his wide eyes are staring straight at you, suddenly far more alert.
"Y-You," His voice audibly cracks, mind reeling at the images that assaulted him. Images that he had been burying for the past several years. He almost feels sad; he definitely should've made a move sooner. You smile at how strained he is, voice an octave higher than it should've been. His trousers were suddenly painfully tight. "should stop talking."
"Flustered?" You hum cheekily, a hand resting against the side of his face, fingers carding through his disheveled locks as you lean impossibly closer, teasing him with a kiss. His head tilts with your hand hopelessly, and you watch his eyes flutter. Your lips graze against his own and a high-pitched pathetic little sound catches in his throat. Your lips ghost away from his own, across his cheek, and finally press firmly against the crook of his jaw.
"No." He breathes deeply, but his composure falters again when one of your hands slithers between your bodies, tugging gently at his belt. He was a bad liar. "But you keep talking like that-" He gasps, high and airy, as you slowly pull the zipper down his front, fingers grazing generously at the tent in his boxers. "and this'll end before it even begins." His voice pitches and warbles when you lick a line up from the hickey you had been leaving at the juncture between his throat and shoulder.
Your hand rests teasingly against his waistband, a finger slipping just below the hem and pulling playfully. He whines, a hand gripping your hair and pulling your face up to meet him. "Please," He gasps as another one of your fingers teases at the band of his boxers. You can feel his knees spread behind you, allowing room for you to press against his upper thighs. "kiss me."
He was staring at you desperately, the hand in your hair beckoning you closer, but not forcing. Oh how you wished you could see his expression, and you wanted to punish him for not allowing the door to remain open. You catch a glimpse of his furrowed brows, barely visible in the dim light that emanated from his big eyes, and you bite your lip thoughtfully.
"Sweetheart, I'll beg if you want." You didn't doubt it, leaving your fingers pressing against his quivering stomach.
"Next time," You instruct, and you can see the way his eyes flash red at the prospect before settling back to their amber hue. "I choose where, even if that means you have to wait."
"Anything." The word is half whispered, half mumbled against your lips as you finally lean down. He doesn't waste any time, hand gripping your hair tight and forcing you closer, guiding your head to tilt to the side and forcing your lips to open. His tongue snakes its way back into your mouth, and you have to grip his hair for stability, barely able to reciprocate the bruising force of the kiss, never mind keep up. He groans again at your fingers against his scalp, he hums something incoherent, and you're only allowed a second to gasp for breath before he's pulling you in again.
You were too distracted to notice the way his free hand slithered down your body, gracefully unbuttoning and unzipping your trousers. You were even too distracted to notice the way his fingers had pulled at your underwear, but you do notice when a cool finger presses exactly where you needed it to. You moan into his mouth, and you can feel his lips smile as he rubs a small tight circle over your bundle of nerves. "Luci." You whimper as he pulls back for a breath, your damp foreheads pressed together as you try and steady your heart. He pulls you back into a kiss, muffling a whimper when two of his fingers push deeper, gliding easily against your wet folds, pressing against your entrance as his palm rubs against your clit.
"This wet already for me?" He tries to sound seductive, but the breathlessness of his chest and panting of his breath betrays him. "I've barely touched you, love." A fingertip presses in lightly, and your legs spread wider invitingly, but he pulls back to circle two fingers against your peak. He swallows your whine with another breathless kiss.
You writhe on top of him, and his hips jerk involuntarily when you plead his name against his lips. One finger finally breaches your entrance, sliding in easily, and you rut against his hand to speed up the agonisingly slow pace he was taking.
Lucifer had been playing along, grinning against your lips and flexing his fingers enticingly, showing you what he could do but not quite giving you a pace that would accomplish anything. He glides a second up alongside his first finger, and his own moan catches in his throat at the way you tighten around him. You mewl at the pleasurable stretch. Truthfully, he had been thinking ever since you had made your comment about his desk, and the many ideas he had come up with on his own whilst sat there pining after you. He had an idea. He wasn't going to let you interrupt this plan.
His fingers suddenly pull away, leaving you empty and confused, chest heaving as you sit up, staring down at him.
"Off." He pats at your thighs, tugging at your trousers and shimmying them as far as they would go. The smile in his voice was palpable, but you didn't question his sudden giddiness, lifting your hips to help him. It was a little awkward with the small space you both had, but you eventually wiggle free of the tight garment, underwear following in a heap in the corner.
You sit back against him, completely bare on your lower half whilst your top still bunched around your elbows. You lower yourself all the way, folds pressing against the tent in his boxers and grinning wickedly. He doesn't react as you'd hoped though, staring up at you with large shining eyes, admiration in their depths, as well as something else you couldn't quite distinguish, something a little more, mischievous.
Without warning he thrusts his hips up, and you nearly crash into his chest at the sudden forceful jerk. His hands grasp your bare ass firmly, claws digging into the supple flesh. You're so impossibly close to his face you can just make out the grin adorning his features.
"What are you-" You go to sit back against his hips, but his hands stop you, forcing you up instead of down. His own breathing had picked up in anticipation. You hover above him, not sure what he wanted you to do.
"Come on, sweetheart." The words slip from his lips fast and energetic, and his strong arms pull you higher up his torso, now hovering above his sternum. "I promise it'll be worth it."
"Wha-" Realisation hits you like a freight train and your breath leaves you horribly quickly. You had never done this before, and you most definitely had never had someone excitedly trying to yank you up their body. "Luci- I-I don't-"
"Please?" He pleads, and you twitch when he turns his head to place a quick peck against the inside of your knee.
"You want to-?
He doesn't even let you finish. "Yes." His hands tug you closer, inch by inch, and you tentatively let yourself be risen. "I wasn't lying earlier; would've been on my knees for hours."
The way his voice had taken on a whiny pitch had you clenching around nothing in particular, struggling to believe such a powerful man was here, on his back, desperately trying to persuade you to- to- you couldn't fathom it.
"I've never done this before." You hesitate, your nerves growing in the pit of your stomach as you stare down at his bright eyes. If you could see anything in this darkness, you'd see his ear-splitting grin and the way his tongue flicked against his lips as he positioned you. You'd also notice the way his cheeks and chest had flushed feverishly once he had realised you were actually going to let him do this. Instead, you focussed unwaveringly on his bright eyes, which constantly flicked between your face and the growing heat between your thighs.
Something in his chest jumps, knowing he'd be the first to do this to you. His mounting resolve had just solidified, you were most definitely not getting out of this now. You hover direction above him and he places a clawed hand on either of your thighs, gently coaxing you down.
"Perfect," Some of his cocky self had come back now that he was finally getting what he wanted, and his hot breath fans across your thighs as you slowly lower down, your hands grasping the shelves above your head to stabilise yourself. "just let me take care of you."
You pause your decent when you feel his hair ticking at your thighs, and he takes the opportunity to turn his head slightly to the side, immediately pressing a hot open-mouthed kiss against your inner thigh. You gasp, fingers clenching around the shelf above you, as he sucks your skin into his mouth, teeth grazing over the sensitive skin. He hums, slowly licking and kissing his way towards your core. He presses a delicate kiss against your heat, and you automatically lurch upwards, but his grip around your thighs prevents you from moving at all.
You breathe deeply, and his eyes connect with yours, gently but forcefully pulling you closer.
"it's okay, sit."
You comply, albeit hesitantly, worrying for his head when he pulls you closer, your thighs flush against either side of his rosy face. You stare down at him, wide-eyed, as he stares back. Without warning another kiss presses against your folds, and you jerk again, but he had been anticipating it and his hands flex against you, rooting you in your spot and digging deliciously into the flesh of your upper thighs and hips. He kisses again, and again, each one lengthening and growing more sloppy. You pant above him and he watches your expression gleefully, finally suckling your little bud into his mouth. You jerk as he presses his forked tongue against your most sensitive spot, and a moan heaves from your chest when he grazes his teeth against you, lavishing that one particular spot with unfaltering enthusiasm.
Just as you begin to whine, hips twitching at the ministrations, he shifts lower, long tongue lolling from his mouth and licking a decisive stripe up against your entire length, parting your folds and gathering your juices on his tongue. You moan his name sinfully, and he whines, hips raising against nothing as his tongue finally delves its way into you, slithering inside your walls and licking up into your heat. You gasp in surprise: his tongue was long, sinfully so, and its forked edge delved deep as he explored.
His claws grip you tighter as you shift around, pinning your hips in place as his tongue presses against that special spot inside of you. You whine, and you can feel his teeth press against your opening as he grins, a mumbled "found it" lost against your damp flesh, tongue licking harder against that spot. His eyes close completely, brows furrowing as he concentrates, sinking into the floor and making sure to drag your hips down with him.
"Oh- Luci-" You gasp, fingers tightening against the shelf as he withdraws his tongue, sucking your clit back into his mouth like a man starved. He uses his forearms to make sure your hips stay down, hands coming to grasp the insides of your thighs and forcing them to stay apart as they threatened to twitch close. He hums against you, and the sounds of his lips against your core is downright sinful; you spread your thighs further and he groans when he realises he can reach more of you with his mouth.
"Yes, hngh, yes-" You moan, hips beginning to grind down to meet his tongue. "There-!"
"mhm" He hums in acknowledgement beneath you, grasp tightening on your thighs as he abuses your clit. His own chest was heaving as he worked, and his forehead creased as he concentrates, swirling his tongue in circles and sucking just the right amount before it became painful.
He cracks one eye open, suddenly incredibly aware of the lack of your hands against him, and he follows your twisting torso up, frowning at seeing you grip the shelving unit above his head. He doesn't stop, tongue continuing to lick its fiery trail against you, and his eye closes again as he lifts his hands from your thighs, travelling up the length of your body.
You shiver at the contact, head thrown back and eyes flickering wildly behind your eyes as you continued to grind down against him. You feel his hands travel up your shoulder blades, down your biceps, your forearms, coming to rest against your wrists with a tight grip. You allow him to pull your hands away from the shelf, and your eyes open as he draws them down to his hair, tugging them against the strands and tangling your fingers in his locks before his own claws are settling around your thighs again.
Had he just wanted you to touch him? You wonder, though it was hard to form a coherent thought as his tongue thrust into you. Experimentally, your fingers tighten against his blonde locks, and he moans hoarsely, teeth grazing your folds as he drags you impossibly closer.
This new position allowed to you to glance between your arms at his face, and you pause confused when no dim light meets you. Then, your core clenches as you realise what he was doing. You couldn't see his eyes. He had closed his eyes. The realisation has your own eyes rolling to the back of your head and your fingers tighten against his hair, pulling painfully at the roots. He whines, a high-pitched cracking groan, hips jerking up voluntarily.
He carries on working his tongue against you until you dissolve into a panting mess, sweat beading down your forehead as you hips jerk against his mouth, that familiar tight coil winding quickly in the pit of your stomach. You moan weakly as he continues to abuse your cunt, and the muscles in your thighs tighten as you feel that coil suddenly tighten to its capacity.
"Luci." You warn, hands tugging at his locks so tightly that he opens his eyes to gaze up at you, a bleary pair of ruby eyes looking up at you questioningly. "S-stop, I'm close."
"nuh-uh" He hums against you, eyes slipping closed as his hands fasten their hold around you. His tongue leaves your entrance, your clit once again finding itself in his mouth as he sucks harshly. You got the message: 'no chance'.
"Luci!" Your voice raises a pitch, and your hands pull so tightly against his scalp that it hurts; he whimpers, hips shifting as he continues his ruthless pace against your heat.
"W-wait, shit-" You gasp uselessly, teetering on the edge of losing complete control. Lucifer seems to realise, and he pulls out a move that he'd been saving. His mouth opens as wide as it would allow, and his tongue slithers out and into your folds, immediately pressing against your g-spot as his upper lip closes around your clit, working the small bud between his upper lip and the base of his tongue. The double stimulation has all air forced from your lungs, and it only takes one press of his tongue against your g-spot before your crashing down from that blissful tightness. Your toes curl as he licks against your spasming walls, claws lightly breaking your skin as he wrestles your thighs to stay apart. He moans into you and you see stars, hips faltering as you let him do as he pleases.
You can't form words as he guides you through your orgasm, body tight and hunched forward, his head grasped tightly between your hands as you moan and whimper. "God." You groan as he grazes his fangs against you clit, sparks shooting up your entire spine at the oversensitivity.
When it finally ends you slump forward tiredly, hands still knotted into his hair as he presses one last longing kiss against you. He guides you down his chest with his hands until you lay flat against his chest, breathing ragged and core fluttering as you try and regain your bearings.
"Good, sweetheart?" Lucifer hums against your temple, but you can hear the shit-eating grin in his breathy voice, and you just know the he knows he was good.
"Yes." You mutter, placing a kiss at the base of his throat as you breathe deeply, heart rate beginning to come back down. "Absolutely amazing, Luci."
You can feel him shift at the compliment, a breath catching in his throat, and you arch a brow inquisitively. You prop yourself back up, and immediately place your lips over his, kissing him deeply and taking him by surprise. You can feel the wetness that coated his chin and lips, and a hand against the side of his face tells you he was practically covered in you, the skin damp and warm beneath your touch. He grunts against your lips, returning the kiss with as much excitement.
"You were so good to me." You hush against his lips when you pull away, and you grin when his breath hitches and his pupils dilate. You had him.
"We can't leave you like this, can we? Not after you were so good." You grin more when he gulps, hands landing on your hips when you shimmy down his torso, pressing your soaking heat against his still clothed, painfully-hard erection.
"Am I that easy to read?" He questions through deep breaths, a hand tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
"Just to me. I did notice how you always got so flustered at compliments." You reveal, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
You turn awkwardly, straddling him backwards as you make quick work of his trousers and boxers. You tuck your hands into the waistband and gently tug down, unable to really see what you were doing so moving carefully not to accidentally hurt something. He lifts his hips to help you, and hisses when the cool cupboard air finally reaches his throbbing cock.
Unbeknownst to you, he had grown impatient as you struggled with his hips, and pushed himself up by his elbows to gain more access to you whilst you finished sorting his trousers. You feel him kissing the back of your thigh as you push them past his knees, and you have to force yourself to breath as you finish pulling them down to his ankles.
You pull away from his reaching hands which had tried to tug you back towards his face, swatting at him playfully as you turn and reposition yourself.
"Can't blame a guy for trying." You can hear his smile as he rests back, his hands sliding up your thighs and resting against your hips, thumbs pressing into the divot of your hipbone.
You could hear his deep puffs of breath in the darkness, still trying to recover from the energy he had used when treating you, and you decide that you wanted to work him up a bit more before you rewarded him in return.
"I really wish you'd let him leave the door open." You start complaining again, resting against his thighs instead of his hips, a hand running slowly down his sternum and tickling the sticky skin that quivered under your touch. "I want to see how pretty you look like this."
He stares at you from the darkness, utterly dumb-founded, mouth agape and his breath quickening.
"Trust me, I'm a mess." He forces out a nervous chuckle, but you can feel the way his fingers flex at the compliment, and your confidence only grows.
"I don't think so." You slide your palms up either of his sides, feeling the way his lungs expand as you slowly wind your arms behind his neck, drawing yourself down closer until you can feel his nose brush against your own. "I bet you look gorgeous. More handsome than you usually look, and I can barely keep my eyes off of you normally, you're just such a pretty boy."
"W-What?" He questions quietly, breathing deep when you tilt your head and kiss against the shell of his ear. His hands fall slack against your thighs, too enraptured by your words to bother to control your movements.
"Hmm," You hum, and your warm breath against his ear has him shivering. You kiss just beneath his ear, whispering huskily. "Such a handsome man. The most powerful man in Hell, and yet he's beneath me, eager to please, letting me do whatever I want, being so good."
His cheeks burst into a fiery red at your compliments whispered against the shell of his ear, chest almost caving in with the way he struggles for breath. All he can think of is you, all he can feel is you: your hands resting against his chest and against his throat, your lips and tongue peppering their way along his angular jaw, your hair brushing his forehead as you move closer.
Your hand sneaks down his chest lazily, finally grazing against his throbbing member resting heavy against his stomach. He stutters when your fingers graze against him, and you grin into the skin on his jaw when you feel how damp he is, pre-cum covering his length and puddling across his stomach. He was already fully mast, and you hadn't even had to touch him.
"Eager?" You question, hand finally wrapping around him as he pulls you in for a heated kiss, whining into your mouth when you give a leisurely stroke, thumb swiping across his slit. His hips jerk at the small action and he bites at your lips when you grip him firmer, pulling once, twice.
"You're the Devil." He gasps against your lips, tongue already flicking out to lick across your bottom lip, fully intending to pull you into another kiss.
"I think you'll find that's actually you."
You let him snake his way into your cavern, tongue filling your mouth as you shift your hips, stroking his cock agonisingly slowly, coaxing him into position without him even knowing. You take him by surprise when he feels his tip pressing against your opening, and his eyes shoot open with his tongue still mid-way towards your throat. You grin against his lips as you sink down, sheathing him in one steady rock of your hips. A pathetic little sound screeches in his throat, eyes screwing shut at the pleasurable pressure and hands regaining their death-like grip on your hips. He whimpers against your lips when you rock your hips again, beginning to set a slow, steady rhythm.
"Oh- oh, darling." He whines the pet-name through clenched teeth, hips jerking erratically as you try and find a rhythm.
You loved the little sounds he made, and you decide to let him know, carding a hand through his tussled locks, breathing against his lips. "Such pretty little noises."
You catch a glimpse of his eyes rolling back before they're hidden behind lilac-hued eyelids, a pitiful whimper rewarding your compliment, and his hips slowly begin to match your rhythm. You attempt to sit up, to really take control, but his hand at the crook of your neck prevents you from pulling too far away from him, and he grasps desperately when he realises your attempt to pull away. You could pull away if you really wanted to, plant your hands on his chest and begin setting the pace you wanted, but his needy little whines and the way he clung to your neck has you leaning forward and succumbing to the slow and steady rhythm.
It didn't take long for Lucifer to become a panting whimpering mess, not with the way your walls clung to him so achingly, hips rolling against him in such a deliciously delightful way, and lips meeting his own like an unholy prayer.
"C-close." He warns, gasping against your lips and continuing to raise his hips to meet yours. Both of his hands grasp your hips, but he allows you to set the pace, clinging on for stability more so than control.
"It's okay, Luci." You assure him, grinding harder as you edge him towards release.
"No." You feel him shake his head, hair swishing against your jaw as he licks and sucks at your throat. A hand leaves your hip and circles around to your front, thumb pressing harshly into your sensitive clit and circling it, hard. "'m not done with you yet."
You feel his thighs spread behind you, his feet planting firmly on the floor as he thrusts harder than before, pummelling that pleasant spot inside of you with renewed urgency. He was close; he couldn't cum before you did again.
"Luci," You gasp in surprise, hands fighting to find purchase and ultimately finding their way back into his hair. The rest of your sentence dies in your throat, his thumb circling harshly against your sensitive bundle of nerves, his cock drawing pleasure from the deepest parts within.
"Come on, sweetheart, please just one more. For me." His voice was a wreck, a plea muttered between gasps and chocked-back whimpers. It was the gentlest, and yet most sultry thing you had ever heard. His desperation was palpable, his throat tight, the muscles in his neck and chest rigid, his toes curling inside his shoes as he tried to fight back the pleasure rapidly building in his stomach.
"I-I-" You don't think you can until the very last second where his dick hits that deep spot inside of you in one particularly hard thrust, and then your vision blotches around the edges as pleasure sparks from the tips of your fingers all the way to the soles of your feet, your spine rigid and hips stuttering as you moan and pant. Your body shakes with pleasure, and Lucifer silences your cries of ecstasy with his lips sealing over yours, brows furrowing as he continues to rub tight little circles over the centre of your pleasure.
Your walls flutter and spasms around him, and Lucifer grunts and groans as he tries to fight back his own high, both hands falling back to your hips as he tries to concentrate, brows knitted together and mouthing thoughtlessly against your lips. You had no chance to recover from your own orgasm, his hips stuttering up into your with a frantic urgency, thrusts sloppy and out of rhythm. His resolve completely shatters when you decide to sink your teeth into his bottom lip, and then his voice is breaking and his hips are humping pathetically as his own orgasm crashes over him.
Some attempt at your name is whimpered against your rouge lips, his arms encircling your waist fully as he pumps into you once, twice, hard aborted thrusts attempted on shaking legs. When he's finally spent, with nothing more to give, he pulls away from your lips, forehead pressing heavily against your own as he gasps in a shuddering breath, panting pathetically and gazing at you with blurred eyes.
His arms don't fall from your waist as he sinks back into the cool ground, all muscles in his body lax, the aftershocks of pleasure thrumming through his weary muscles. You lay flat against his heaving chest, fighting to catch your own breath, beginning to feel the bruising muscle of your thighs, continuing to straddle him, neither one of you wanting to pull away.
"Sweetheart," His voice is rough, and he has to clear his throat before he continues. A hand slowly slides up and down your spine as he talks, clawed fingers gentle and delicate as you shiver at the sensation. "if I'm ever as dumb as I have been for the past six years, I want you to shoot me."
You giggle at how serious he sounds, tilting your head to look up at him. His eyes are upturned towards the ceiling.
"I mean it. Can't believe I waisted so much time with you because I was scared." He laughs around the last word, embarrassed and not quite believing his own sheer stupidity.
"You were scared?" You question quietly, a finger tracing an imaginary pattern against his side, your eyes closed to the world as you breathe deeply.
"Of course, look at you: you're so fun, so happy, absolutely perfect at everything you do. Hell, you even join in with my lame jokes and terrible dancing. You're too good to be true, especially down here."
"If it makes a difference, I could've acted, but I was scare too."
The cupboard falls into silence for a moment, nothing but the sounds of your slowing breathing filling the silence. His palms slide up your back slowly, claws grazing the skin lightly, teasingly, repeating the motion along the expanse of your back and hips, again and again.
"There's plenty of time to make up for lost time, we've got forever." You mumble against his chest, sighing as both of his hands massage over the bruises he had unwittingly left across your thighs. Your tone turns cheeky, and you pick your head up to look at him properly. "How long do you think we have left in here?"
He seems to take the hint, gaze snapping down towards you. You grin when you see his eyes brighten in the darkness. "Give me five minutes."
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ivysangel · 4 months
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Waking up with Jason's arms wrapped around you, feeling him breathe into your hair, letting out the occasional snore. His hand is under you, pressed into your side, and you feel him squeeze the flesh of your waist to make sure you're still there, a habit he developed when things started getting serious, constantly searching for you, even in his sleep. He squeezes a little tighter, his breath suddenly quickening at an alarming rate. You try to turn to face him, fear settling in your stomach, wondering if something was plaguing him in his dreams again.
When you shift ever so slightly, you feel the other arm lying over you tighten, pulling you flush against his body. A chill runs down your spine as you feel him exhale a particularly strangled breath, and you force yourself out of his grip, sitting up to get a better look at the man next to you. His eyebrows furrowed, hair flat on one side of his head from laying in one position the entire night. One of his hands reaches out to your pillow, searching for you in your sudden absence, and when it's met with nothing, Jason jolts upright. He turns his head frantically, blurred vision searching for something, for someone, for you.
His shoulders drop in relief when he finally stops long enough to notice you barely a foot away from him. You watch his chest rise and fall as he tries to calm his breathing, and you're not sure which thing caused it, the nightmare or the fear that you had left him. "What are you doing up?" he asks, voice laced with sleep. "You were having a nightmare," you say quietly, sliding a little closer to him and settling back into your spot on the bed. "I was just trying to make sure you were okay." confusion is etched across his face like the concept of him having a nightmare was foreign, and you develop an equally confused expression upon seeing his own. His face drops suddenly, and he clears his throat, "Right, a nightmare." he shifts beneath the covers, seemingly uncomfortable. "I'm all good. Just go back to sleep, okay?" he sends a reassuring smile your way, his attempt at trying to make you forget this whole debacle and coax you back to sleep, but it was too late; you were already wide awake.
"Was it him again?" your hand finds the scarred expanse of his back, lightly grazing your fingers against old wounds and trying to ease his angst; his body tenses at your touch, and a groan leaves his lips. "it wasn't-" he pauses, running his hands through his hair and sighing. "it wasn't him again. It wasn't even..." he trails off, turning away from you and sliding off the bed. "wasn't even what?" You ask, more confused than ever, watching as he lifts his arms above his head, back muscles flexing while he stretches before crossing his arms. He just stands there, back towards you, and all you can do is sit in silence while he seemingly contemplates something. "It wasn't what, Jason?" you ask one more time. He turns his head slightly to look at you only for a second and lowers his eyes when he sees you in the same spot you've been this whole time. "It wasn't a nightmare," he says, turning around to face you, this time allowing you to see his whole body.
His face is flushed a bit out of embarrassment, and your confusion starts to reach its peak. That is until you do a once-over of him and notice the patch of dark gray on his otherwise light sweatpants. Your mouth gapes a bit, and all you can manage is a quiet "Oh." his eyes find the same spot on his pants, a tent growing beneath the soft cotton. "Yeah. Oh."
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ickadori · 7 months
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++ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘
[summary] wrio missed his wife, and she missed him just as much. two simps in love.
[cws] fluff. fem reader -> wriothesley’s wife. reader is a mondstadt native. kissing.
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Wriothesley’s cup of tea pauses halfway to his mouth as there’s a knock at his office door. His fingers tighten unconsciously around the handle, that incessant throbbing at his temples that had been dying out suddenly tapping into its nth life.
He contemplates ignoring it; pretending he didn’t hear it and indulging in his fresh brew, but he’s never been one to shirk off his work, no matter how inconsequential the task.
He sets the cup down rougher than necessary, and the legs of his chair scrape loudly against the floor as he pushes it back from his desk and stands to his feet. Someone better be dead or on the verge.
It was an unspoken rule that Wriothesley wasn’t to be bothered at this time -a quarter after five until six- because it was official tea time, a very, very important time in his day that let the inhabitants in Meropide see his most agreeable side… although he had heard talk from a few gossipy guards and prisoners that his ‘pissy attitude’ this past month had nothing to do with his interrupted tea times, but rather that his wife had gone back to Mondstadt to visit family.
“You know how he gets when he doesn’t see her after a while—downright scary. I’ve never seen a man look so enraged and distraught at the same time.”
“He put me on pipe restoration duty —don’t laugh, it isn’t funny! Worst job in the whole place, I swear— for the next six months all because my wife dropped by with a bento on my break. Apparently no one can be happy when his missus is away.”
“I caught him staring at her picture the other day, y’know the one he keeps in that chain around his neck, and sighing like some schoolgirl. I nearly thought my daughter had somehow gotten herself arrested and thrown down here when I heard all those lovesick sighs.”
It was all hearsay and speculation, of course. Wriothesley could manage just fine with you away - he was a grown man, a weathered man, a man who could function fully without the company of his wife.
That’s right, he thinks to himself. He’s been doing just fine in your absence, a bit quicker to anger than usual, but with the looming threat of being turned into a big, sopping puddle right below his feet, could you really blame him?
The door is wrenched open, strands of black and gray flying back from where they rested against his forehead due to the strong gust of wind he created.
“What is it now?” He nearly hisses out, but he manages to get a reign on it last minute, the words coming out a bit strained instead. He eyes the guard standing in front of him, their eyes flitting between the crease between his brows and the floor. “Spit it out before I—”
He stops abruptly when he hears a voice that he knows intimately well, and had he possessed any shame when it came publicly displaying the love he harbored for you, he would have been a touch embarrassed at the speed of which his frown smoothed out and the throbbing in his head disappeared, a sparkle in his eyes as his shoulders lose a bit of their tension.
“Oh? He has? Thank you for telling me, Sigewinne. I’ll get right on that.” You come rounding the corner with the small doctor at your side, a knapsack in your hands, and had Wriothesley been any less sane, he would have swore that he could feel the rays of the sunshine beaming down on his skin and fresh air filtering into his lungs when you turned your gaze to him, scornful as it was.
You’re fitted in a dress that’s customary for the women in your homeland to wear, and flowers are weaved into your hair, and the ring on your finger seems to shine a bit brighter.
“Wriothesley.” You march up to him, eyebrows knitted together, and push your finger against his chest. “What is this I hear about you acting like a tyrant?”
“You look beautiful.” He breathes out.
“And going to the Pankration ring? You know those poor people don’t stand a chance against you. That’s just bullying.”
“Let me take your bag, it looks heavy.”
“And you haven’t been eating right, either! Look at your face — you’ve lost weight!” He transfers the bag from your hands to his, and when his fingers brush against yours, he finally lets a smile bloom on his face, being met with a huff. “Don’t smile at me. I’m mad at you.”
“Can’t help it, happy to see you.” You falter a bit, corners of your lips twitching, but you hold strong, choosing to save face in front of the onlookers—always put up a good fight, especially when others are looking, is what he had told you once upon a time. “I’ve missed you so much.” It comes out in a low murmur, eyes locked onto yours and refusing to stray, even when you decide that his gaze is a bit too heavy for the setting and avert your own.
“I-well-you…just get inside your office.”
He’s nice enough to hold back a chuckle, instead stepping to the side so that you can shuffle past him and inside. Before he shuts the door, his gaze turns icy and his smile thins out as he lets his eyes sweep over everyone present. A resounding groan is heard, the unspoken promise loud and clear, and then he’s pushing the door shut and turning on his heel.
You’re on him in a second, arms wrapped around his waist as you bury your face into his chest. He returns the hug just as quick, thick, burly arms circling around your shoulders as his head dips down so he can stuff his nose into your hair and breathe your scent in.
Your voice comes out muffled as you try to speak, and he loosens his hold on you a bit, allowing you to pop your head up so you can look up at him. There’s a halfhearted pout on your lips, and his response is a reflex as he leans down to give you a peck once, twice, three times before moving on to place one on the tip of your nose.
“You were supposed to let me scold you out there, birdie. Now everyone’s gonna know that I let you off easy.”
“Let me off easy? I’d say this is the meanest you’ve ever been to me,” he gives an exaggerated expression of hurt. “You haven’t even told me you missed me, or that you’re happy to see me, or that you’ll never leave again because you couldn’t stand being away from me.”
“You’re so dramatic.” You smile despite yourself, and he kisses you again, scarred hands moving to cradle your cheeks. You part with a gasp for air, and its his turn to smile when you stretch up to reconnect your lips, the lack of air not deterring you in the slightest.
“Breathe, sweetheart…” He rasps against your lips, and you suck in a breath, eyes slowly blinking as you tug at the material of his shirt. There’s a rush of emotions that washes over him at the unspoken confirmation that you missed him just as much as he had missed you, and he lets his hands wander down to settle on your waist, fingers flexing as they squeeze at the flesh there through the material of your dress.
“Well, well, well,” he starts, and you blink out of your stupor to don a guilty expression. “Looks like you haven’t been eating right, either, hypocrite.” He lightly pinches at your side, and you squeal out a laugh as you lightly bat at his hand.
“Have I told you that I missed you, and that I’m sooo happy to see you, and that I’ll never, ever leave again because I can’t stand being away from you?” You flutter your lashes up at him, direct that heart-stopping smile up at him, and for a split second he thinks that the primordial sea has broken the seal and reduced him to nothing but a puddle at your feet.
“Careful now, words like that are liable to kill a man, and this place isn’t fitting for a sweet girl like you.”
“Oh? Then maybe I should leave earlier than I intended t—” He quiets you with a kiss, and you laugh into it, earning a gentle nip on your bottom lip. Your teasing smile settles into something sweeter, tender, vulnerable, and it mirrors him perfectly.
You both speak your next words in unison.
“I missed you.”
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qlossytbh · 13 days
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Ok hear me out, what about a Spencer Reid one shot where the f!reader gets turned on by seeing him with the fbi best and begs him to f*ck her with it on bending her on the desk.
𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 reader see’s Spencer in his FBI vest and suddenly begins to grow needy
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 +18 minors dni, established relationship, smut, softdom!spencer (kinda?), sub!reader (kinda?), pinv, praising, praise kink, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), mentions of taking birth control tho
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 2.4k
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 JANFKWKKF LOOK AT HIM IM DROOLING this is my first time writing posting smut so whatever, at the end i kind of just gave up cus i wanted to post smt but i hope it’s good enough😭
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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You ran your hands through your hair, sighing heavily as your mind fogged up. You flipped through a few files, rubbing your temples and rolling your shoulders back in an attempt to alleviate the unwelcomed stress and tension of the long hours of work. That and the unsettling anxiety of Spencer's case.
You knew today's mission was risky and you couldn't assist the job since you were given strict instructions by your doctor to avoid doing any heavy movement for a bit due to spraining your ankle a few weeks ago on the job. So for now, you were stuck with paperwork and not be able to check if your boyfriend was okay while chasing killers around.
You were not coping well to say the least. It was way past your job hours, and Spencer promised to pick you up by your office, so with only a few people left at headquarters, you were growing nervous with possibilities as to why he wasn't showing up. You stood up from your chair, wincing as your back had been in the same position for over three hours. You bit your nails in contemplation, before deciding on seeking out any information on the status of the team.
However, as you were halfway towards the door, the knob to your office twisted and in walked Morgan with Spencer trailing not far behind him. You let out a deep breath of relief you didn't even know you were holding, panic quickly vanishing, seeing him alive and well and—
—And wearing that goddamn vest again.
You had seen him with it on a few weeks ago and truthfully, it made your head spin. How it snugged his frame perfectly, accentuating his shoulder blades as he stood tall behind Morgan. He was wearing a light blue dressshirt below it and his sleeves were pulled up to his elbows, showing off his forearms in a way that left you spinning feverishly. His hair was slightly untamed, brown curls flowing across the bottom of his neck and forehead messily.
Your mouth opened slightly, words vanishing deep within your throat. You looked up, finally bringing yourself to clear your throat.
You walked over to the two of them, patting Morgan on the shoulder and pushing past him towards Spencer. You open your arms and you quickly fell into his, feeling as if a sudden pressure of air was alleviated from your body.
Your arms wrapped around his neck as his found their way around your waist. You breathed in the familiar smell of him, nuzzling your head deep into his neck as his arms tightened forcefully around you.
"Why the hell did you two take so long?" You pushed Spencer away, holding your hand on the firm surface of his chest that was decorated with that stupid FBI vest and scolding the two men with a glare.
The both of them shared a nervous look before Morgan took the fault, admitting lamely. "Flat tire on the way back..”
You groaned, huffing loudly as you pinched the skin between your eyebrows. Of all the reasons, that could've been the stupidest stress factor you've ever had to deal with when it came to these two.
"You could've called me and let me know—" You said, directing your piercing gaze towards Spencer. He realized that not only anger was stretched across your features, but also concern, which is when he felt truly bad for making you worry. But in an attempt to prevent you from getting mad at him, Spencer's hands snaked down swiftly, squeezing at your hips.
"We should've," He pressed a kiss to your temple. "We're sorry."
You rolled your eyes, grumbling lowly "You better be."
Derek clasped his hands together and lowered his shoulder. "Well, that's my cue before hot mama gets all riled up with me too.”
Spencer threw his hair back with a soft groan since he had told Derek not to call you that. You stifled a laugh while Spencer followed Derek's movements towards the door. "I told you not to—"
Morgan had already walked past the two of you, slamming the door to your office and cutting Spencer off. "—call her that."
Spencer glared at the door, hands still on your hips, unconsciously hooking them into the belt loops of your pants. You took a moment to admire him and the way his jaw was clenched, enhancing the sharp shape of it. Your eyes trailed across the bridge of his nose, to the soft narrow of his light eyes, all the way to the barely present purse of his lips. You felt a familiar heat pool in the bottom of your stomach.
It was the stupid vest. Ever since you saw him in it the first time it was impossible to control yourself and to detain yourself from ogling at him.
You reached up, gripping his chin steadily and directing his face towards your own. He followed, allowing you to guide him back to you and did not complain when you pushed your lips onto his own, humming in content.
He sank into your body, pulling you in by the hoops of your pants so that he could feel your body flush against his. As your hands moved down towards his torso, gripping at the sides of his vest firmly, his hands came up to cup your cheeks. He pulled away, hovering over your lips and speaking to you between kisses. "I missed you.."
He pulled away entirely, smiling at you. All you could focus on was how fucking good he looked. Your hands began to tremble with the desperate, almost incontrollable need to pull him in and feel him.
"So did I.." You leaned in, pecking the corner of his lips and then trailing kisses all the way from his cheek, to his jaw, and finally burying your face into his neck, softly nipping at all the familiar places you knew could have him undone in seconds. His hands gave your hips a warning squeeze, which you aimlessly ignored.
"Spence," You mumbled, pulling away and looking up at him.
"Hmm?" He hummed absentmindedly, dazed enough to only focusing on your lips.
"You're wearing that vest," You continued, almost in a warning, hovering over his lips and pecking them softly. He pulled back, furrowing his brows with confusion. When he noticed the familiar darkness in your eyes, realization finally dawned over him.
"Yeah, we needed to wear it for our case today.." He explained as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, voice dropping a sudden octave. He kissed your forehead with a sneaky smile, running his hands slowly and dangerously up and down your sides. You huffed almost inaudibly, feeling yourself grow incredibly frustrated with the man in front of you.
"You're teasing,"
"Am I?" The sound of his voice shot across your spine, causing nothing but heat to pool between your thighs. He placed a firm kiss to your jaw before turning to the door and snapping the lock of it shut. The blinds to your office had been closed beforehand, so now it was just you and Spencer in a dangerously enclosed area with him wearing his aggravatingly stupid vest.
He inched closer to you before swiftly pulling you in by your hips and placing his lips firmly onto yours. Your arms fell over his shoulders as you arched into him, desperately needing absolutely no possible space between your bodies.
With a few staggered steps, your lower back finally hit your desk without breaking your now heated kiss. Spencers lips moved across yours, pushing and inching for more as your hands pulled and grabbed at any part of him, silently begging for more. You could barely think as your pulse was throbbing inside your head and your legs were turning into putty.
Your hand reached behind you, slapping all of the desks contents onto the floor as Spencer lifted you onto the desk. You grabbed his shirts collar and pulled him closer, biting at his lower lip and earning a muffled groan which only caused the list settling at the bottom of your stomach to worsen.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, hooking his lower back with your ankles and pushing his lower half into your own. You could feel how hard he had grown which may or may not have caused you to roughly roll your hips against him, begging for the smallest bit of friction to the relieve the growing pressure. He shuddered, holding your hips still with a firm grip as if the smallest amount of friction would accidentally tip him over edge.
Your lips still fought relentlessly as both of you began to grow restless. Spencer pulled away from you, reaching his hands between you to unbuckle your dark brown dress pants as you planted kisses on his neck that left his breathing uneven and ragged.
He pulled back just enough to reach for the buckle of his vest but you were quick to grip his wrist, lips hovering over his as you breathed. "Don't—"
His body twitched, mind spinning at the sound of the slightest desperation in your voice. The subtle whine in your voice was nearly enough to send him spiraling, already feeling himself going feral.
"Don't take it off.." You reached down, undoing his belt as his mouth attacked your neck, leaving you panting breathlessly and shaking uncontrollably.
“Please,” You swallowed down every moan that itched to leave your body, opting for soft whines, fearing someone might hear, despite the thick walls that surrounded your office. The sweet sounds only drove Spencer to grow more desperate for you.
You and Spencer had been dating for a while, so he knew you were taking birth control and he had been tested a while back.
You hopped off the desk and pulled down at your pants and panties, while Spencer followed suit. There was a mutual hurried pace, both of your movements being hasty and messy, desperately trying to just feel each other. He kissed you feverishly before whispering over your lips.
"Turn around…” He said, delicately guiding your hips around so that the front of your body was facing the desk. You put up no fight, surrendering pathetically as his words worsened the pool that was already gathered between your legs.
His hands remained firmly on your waist, guiding you down so that your chest would lay flat against your desk. Spencer could feel his pulse throbbing and his fingers were beginning to dig too harshly into your hip.
He trailed his fingers across your spine and you squirmed with frustration underneath his grip “Spence, please..”
Your body trembled with anticipation as you ached to feel him inside you. He gave your hips a reassuring squeeze. “So needy..”
He aligned himself, twitching at the feeling of your dripping cunt. As if loosing all control, Spencer pushed himself into you with no warning whatsoever, causing you to clamp your eyes shut as your body shuddered with a wave of pleasure. Your teeth clamped down onto your bicep in order to prevent you from letting out any sounds you’d regret making.
"Fuck—" Spencer groaned, taking a second or two to adjust himself to the newfound tightness. Your body felt ethereal to him, it always had. He pushed your blouse up even more, allowing his hand to travel along your back and grip and squeeze anywhere he could as he began thrusting into you.
You squirmed underneath him, feeling your body shudder with pleasure as he drilled in and out of you. Spencer bent over you, pushing your hair slightly to the side while still maintaining his rhythm and whispering sweetly into your ear. "You look so pretty,"
"—And you feel so good," He planted a soft kiss behind your ear and as he pulled back, his hands tangled into your hair, nagging at it delicately. You let out a soft whine, and each noise you began to make was only a reason for Spencer to move deeper and harder into you.
"Oh—fuck," You moaned into your arm, feeling as the knot in your stomach was starting to tighten.
"My sweet girl," Spencer breathlessly muttered as he pulled at your hair. Your jaw slacked as, moaning repeatedly onto the desk. "That's it—"
Spencer worked with your body so delicately yet with such roughness that you found yourself practically melting beneath him. You had to stop yourself from screaming as Spencer suddenly hit your sweet spot and became closer to falling over the edge with you. With every movement and sound your body made, he found himself growing tighter and more relentless. His rhythm never faltered as he began to chase his climax alongside you.
"G-God Spence, do that again—" Your voice came out in a whine as you pushed your ass deeper against him, arching your back into him. "Shit—"
"Like that?" He asked, voice breathy and low. With every word, every breath, and every noise you made, Spencer felt himself grow tighter as he chased his high. "T-tell me how good this feels..."
"I'm gonna fucking—" You stifled a groan as Spencer relentlessly slammed into you a final time.
Your body shuddered in one final release, moaning desperately as Spencer twitched over you. He pulled you up by the hair, allowing himself to kiss and nip at your neck as both of you chased the remaining of your high. Your body shook underneath his as he covered your mouth, muffling any of your final sounds.
Once his pacing slowed down, he steadied himself against your body, needing to catch his breath. You hissed as he pulled out, not used to the sudden emptiness. As your breathings interlaced, he finally turned you around in his arms. He looked at your flushed face sweetly before pushing the hairs that had matted down onto your forehead with sweat backwards and kissing the tip of your nose.
You gave him a dopey smile, feeling drunk with the ecstasy. You leaned into his familiar touch with a smile and whispered. "You should wear that vest more often."
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ayaboba · 7 months
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blow me a kiss!
summary: what do they do when you blow a kiss to them?
characters: lyney, childe, venti, heizou, ayato, neuvillette, zhongli, wanderer, diluc, xiao, thoma, wriothesley, alhaitham, kazuha, kaeya, albedo, baizhu.
cw: gn reader, kinda suggestive (?) but nothing descriptive.
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blows one back - lyney, childe, venti, heizou, ayato
It’s more likely that he would be the one to originally blow a kiss to captivate your heart. However, in this case, when you’ve decided to pull such an unexpected and adorable act, he’s at first a little sceptical. Could this be part of a bigger picture he was missing? It’s not long before that idea is scrapped, the blooming temptation growing and clambering like ivies on a crumbling cobblestone wall.
He turns his body, locking his gaze on yours, making sure you aren’t going to look away. Seconds stretching as you dare not to let your eyes stray anywhere else. He brings his hands to his lips, softly smiling, as he gently blows back the love you gave earlier.
too flustered to return the gesture - neuvillette, zhongli, wanderer, diluc, xiao, thoma
Of course, he noticed it. You, on the other hand, are currently doubting if your action was bold enough to capture his attention.
As you ponder, deeply gazing into nowhere, biting your lip nervously, and contemplating your earlier decision, your lover, sitting on the other side of the room, is also currently in a predicament.
The golden smile that graced your face when you blew him that charming kiss had rendered him blank, along with a soft tinge of cherry on his cheeks.
So, as you’re wondering if he even saw it, he’s wondering if he should reciprocate the gesture that got him practically kicking his feet.
goes up to you to give you a kiss - wriothesley, alhaitham, kazuha, kaeya, albedo, baizhu
Two can play the game.
Your sudden cheeky gesture, the proud curve of your lips, and the sly wink that stirred the beginnings of a guaranteed heated and possibly dirty competition. A ruthlessly competitive competition to drive the other hopelessly speechless or gasping desperately for breath. Either way, there was absolutely no way that he was going to lose this time. Not again.
Before he could comprehend what was happening, to first scheme and strategize, he'd already taken a few steps closer.
You raise a curious eyebrow, waiting. Wondering what he had in store this time. Numerous ideas, each stranger than the one before, swirled in your mind.
It seemed you didn’t have enough time, as he silenced your thoughts with a hasty kiss.
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ceilidho · 3 months
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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 2; ghoap x reader) part 1
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The hard part is admitting to himself that he doesn’t know how to function on leave without Ghost’s voice in his ear.
Johnny’s two days into his annual leave when that stray thought crosses his brain. Out with chums even, packed into the booth of an old pub in his hometown, the leather well-worn and a match on the telly that he half watches while one of his mates goes up to the bar to order another round for them. In between his third and fourth pint of lukewarm mild, he thinks something like, wonder what Simon’s up to.
The thought comes and then keeps coming. Keeps cropping up when he least expects. At the pub (wonder what Simon’s up to), in line at the grocery store (wonder how Ghost takes his steak), drowsily puttering around the kitchen while making breakfast (no way he wears the mask at home), listening to some guy in front of him hack up a lung at the dry cleaner (Lt’d do his fuckin’ head in if he was here), and even in the shower with his head tipped back, rinsing out the suds (wonder if he’s got a girl tucked away at home). 
Is it so unusual? Johnny can’t remember a time in his life when someone lived in his head night and day, but Ghost’s presence feels like an extension of his own these days. He’s cycled through girlfriends without a care in the world, without contemplating their existence for half as long, but they never cradled his life like a small bird in the palm of their hands and returned it safe and sound, did they?
Still, he feels it like a knot in his chest. Dreams about Ghost even; wakes up hot and hard, and scrubs his hand down the side of his face when he sits up in bed. Phantom memories of a body heavier than his weighing him down (just the duvet) and a thick hand curling around his dick (his own hand wrapped around his shaft, rubbing one out in his sleep). 
He shakes it off, but it follows him out into the real world. Looking at the door of a coffee shop and thinking absentmindedly, Ghost would have to duck under that. 
Johnny puts it out of his mind. As much as he’s able to, that is. Chalks it up to some kind of hero worship. He’s worked with superior officers before—plenty of times, hundreds of times—but there are few men of Ghost’s calibre, both in skillset and mystique. Not to mention the sheer size of the guy. And what is Johnny if not a moth to a flame?
Better not to ruminate. He casts the memory of seeing Ghost’s dick in the showers after their last mission (monstrous thing, uncut, pubes darker than the hair on his head, more than a mouthful—it’d give him lockjaw) out of his head. Doesn’t think about it. Laughs at a mate’s joke at the pub when he didn’t catch a word of it to mask the way he perked up at the sight of a wide-shoulder man until he turned around, giving Johnny a proper look at his face.
He’s not ready to think about it. Might never be able to really look at why he eats it up, why he struts around with his chin cocked just a bit higher than usual because he knows everyone else is watching him with equal parts envy and curiosity for being Ghost’s favourite. 
Then, one day, he meets a girl.
Johnny’s not winning an award any time soon for world’s best son, but he knows a thing or two. The first thing being chocolates and the second being flowers. His sisters handle the rest; they fuss about the party, get a gift certificate to the spa, send out the invites—all that fun stuff. He’s sent off for the bare essentials. Practically kicked out of the house by his oldest sister—nearly brains himself on the asphalt and tugs his windbreaker on when it’s thrown out the door after him a second later, grumbling about being the errand boy.
He picks up a box of chocolates from the corner shop (not fancy enough, his sisters will probably bitch, but that’s a problem for later) before heading down the road to the florist. There’s a bench out front stacked with tin flower vases, the only spot of colour on a dreary spring morning. He spends a couple minutes chatting with the cashier and flirting a bit halfheartedly (he thinks maybe it’ll be worth it if it gets him a discount, even five percent off) until the florist comes out from the back. 
“Jesus, who gave ye the right?” Johnny breathes, horse blinders on, vision narrowing on the object of desire coming out of the back in a linen apron and simple t-shirt underneath, scissors poking out of the front pocket. 
“The right?” she repeats back, blinking.
“To leave the house lookin’ so fuckin’ gorgeous. Glad I wasn’t driving when I passed you by—woulda been in a twenty car pile up.”
She’s not impressed in the slightest. It’s thrilling. By that point, the cashier is long forgotten. Probably not the best impression he’s ever made, but he’s made worse ones. It’s not every day he comes across an angel. Hard to be polite in front of a real life miracle. 
He wears her down over the week though, showing up each day for a new bouquet. His mam’s never liked him more, so at least there’s that. His sisters side-eye him whenever he ducks out of the house to head down the road to the florist’s, but even they know better than to bring it up and risk pissing off their mam. He interrogates her about flowers and her job, makes his presence unavoidable, a week long siege that ends with Johnny taking her out to dinner and then letting her take him to bed. 
He wakes up nestled in her cozy apartment above the flower shop, stretching out and making himself right at home. When she trades in her linen apron for a terry cloth robe and stands expectantly by the door, Johnny just grins. Shows all of his teeth. 
“Are ye just gonna use me and kick me out?” he pouts. Folds his hands behind his head and digs a foot into the sheets, trying to sink into the mattress. Little king in his castle. 
“You know, you don’t have to pussyfoot around with me. Weren’t you just trying to get laid?” she asks, brow arched. The disbelief thick in her voice makes it clear what she thinks of him. 
“No’ just some playboy, hen,” he scoffs. “I have feelings too.”
Her other eyebrow lifts. He’s tickled pink.
He plays the part well, he supposes. Lounges in bed and eats grapes all morning while she stares at him from the kitchen like he might dissipate at any moment. He’s used to leaving a false impression, like a lake that someone builds their house next to until years go by and someone says I think this was once a meteor. 
When she comes back to bed around mid morning, Johnny wastes no time pulling her up onto the bed until she plants her cunt over his mouth and sinks down onto his waiting tongue. 
Candy sweet pussy, he thinks blissfully, then says it out loud because he can never keep his mouth shut. It must tickle because she yelps and nearly pulls away from his face altogether, but he wrenches her back down, fingers digging into her ass cheeks a bit too forcefully. He’ll pay for that later. 
In the aftermath, when she collapses beside him in bed and rests her head on his chest while he plays with her hair, he itches in his skin to message Ghost. It perplexes him. They never text, he and Ghost; they don’t call, they don’t write, they don’t email. For all intents and purposes, their relationship ends at the perimeter around base, dissolves to nothing. It’s not Ghost’s fault he trickles into Johnny’s dreams sometimes. 
A week goes by. Calm the mind. He thinks of Ghost and his fingers tremble and the phone stays silent and he lets the thought go. Steady. Breathe in and out. His caryatid girl slips in and out of his sheets, hesitant always like he might leave. Johnny doesn’t know if she wants him to, wants to feel vindicated in her assumption, but of all her wants, that ranks the lowest in his mind. 
He spirals deeper into it, infatuated. She’s sweet but snippy, candy sweet with a sour kick—everything he’s ever wanted in a girl. Ever unimpressed, watching him with a small, hidden smile, amused despite herself. 
Johnny wonders if this is the universe waving its hand in front of his face. Yoohoo, missing something?
He looks pointedly away. 
It’s new, but maybe he’s like every other military man in the world, unable to go with the flow, dissatisfied with seeing where things go. He needs instant gratification, everything now-now-now, the certainty of commitment—he spills blood with everyone he knows, so why would his girl be any different?
Returning back to base is harder this time around. The last day of his leave is an exercise in restraint, tempered only by her smile when he sees her off at the door to her apartment, reluctant to leave. 
“C’mon, promise me you’ll call, hen,” Johnny mumbles into her mouth, catching her answer with a languid swipe of his tongue. His arms press her tight to his chest, digging his hands into her back pockets and giving a good squeeze, relishing in the way she squeaks. “How’m I gonna survive without ye, huh? They’re gonna have to jumpstart my heart after it gives out from missing ye so bad.”
“So dramatic. You have my number,” she says when he finally pulls back enough to let her speak.
“No, please, baby, please—promise me—”
“Oh my god, alright, fine—I’ll call. Now get going already.”
The drive back to base leaves him feeling bedraggled, lost. When he gets in, it’s straight to the barracks, an hour long nap before reporting to Price, dragging his feet the whole way over. Moping, for lack of a better word, until he rounds a corner and nearly collides with someone that stops him with a single hand on his shoulder. 
When he looks up to eyes rimmed in black paint, the world lightens. His shoulders lift. 
“Wipe that smirk off your face, Johnny.”
It takes Johnny awhile to bring her up with Ghost. Something keeps holding him back, choking him when he tries to say it outloud. He blames it on uncertainty (had to be sure she was the one, Lt, ye ken?) but he feels the truth at the core of him. When he does finally muster up the nerve to pass his phone to Ghost where her photo is front and centre, no mistaking his intentions, he waits on tenterhooks for a reaction. 
Only breathes out when Ghost asks to meet her. He can do that. 
“Aye, Lt. Just for you.”
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