imlovewithpixels

[imlovewithpixels]

I kinda wanna become a yander x reader type of bload.....with oc and maybe some fandoms...really thinking about it cause anybody write what i want so.... People who follow me by the quackity drable, please, be aware. I'm not writting about him anymore TT

[imlovewithpixels]

Experience

Summers In Pandora Day: #1 ~ Age Gap

Pairing: Adult virgin Neteyam x older human fem reader

Words: 4.8K

Summary: Neteyam's never been good at hiding his raging crush on his father's best friend, and he's never wanted your experienced touch more than right now.

Warnings: Aged-up character, NSFW, age gap, virgin Neteyam, dom reader, dirty talk, degradation, handjob, light oral (male receiving), xenophilia (alien genitalia), bioluminescent cum, size difference, human x Na'vi.

Notes: Big thanks to @neteyamsoare and @inlovewithpandora for creating such an amazing event! I need more older fem reader against younger man duos, they're so tasty 🤭

Credits: Credit to @cafekitsune for the MDNI and support banners.

Na'vi Translation:

Tawtute: Spy People/Person

Iknimaya: Stairway to Heaven; A rite of passage for young Na'vi hunters/warriors. Traveling a treacherous journey through the Hallelujah Mountains to obtain their banshee.

Oeyä: My (possessive)

Tsamsiyutsyìp: Little Warrior

Koakte: Old woman

Srane, oe lonu new: Yes, I need release

Rutxe: Please

Neteyam has never hated a day more than today. He avoids this day at all costs, pretending to be too busy and faking chores he didn't have just to get away from the torture that awaits for him in Hell's Gates medical bay.

His quarterly check-up.

Every three months since he was six, Neteyam and his siblings were hauled off by their father to Hell's Gates lab, sat on a cold metal table and forced to sit through a full body check-up that only grew more invasive throughout the years. His mother always hates that Jake makes them do it, starting many of fights that he somehow manages to win.

On Earth, children from as young as newborns to teenagers were at risk of lung infections and respiratory disease from the air pollution, compromised immune systems from malnutrition causes children to get sick often, sometimes with deadly consequences. Even here, in the safety of Pandora and the all seeing Mother, Jake still carried gut wrenching fear of any of his kids getting sick, hating the helplessness that comes with it. Something Neytiri always sympathized with, and against her children's complaints, agreed to allow the check-ups to continue.

Even now, twenty-two years later, as a full grown adult and full fledged warrior, Neteyam is still pressed to get his quarterly check-ups and report even the lightest cough or sniffle to the lab guys. Most of his siblings oblige their father's wishes pretty well, they already spend most of their days in the confined spaces of the human outpost, so spending the day talking to friends and confirming they're still healthy isn't a bother to them.

But it bothers Neteyam; it irks him to his very core at the meer thought of having to face you one more time. You and your perfect hair, your perfect clothes that's always decorated with that damned white coat, and that body...

Neteyam hates himself, not because of his indifference towards you but how you make him feel.

You had to be at least twenty years his senior, a military trained medic that worked in the same unit as his father on Earth, recruited from the Marines straight into the RDA's greedy hands, shipped off to Pandora as a hired gun a month before Jake's brother died. You quickly came to loathe the works implicated around you and joined Jake in his fight against the tawtute destroying the balance of life, finding your place amongst The People like all those allowed to stay behind.

You've been there through every step in Neteyam's life. Watched him grow into the man he is today, cheered for him at his iknimaya, goaded on him when you ate his first kill, taught him how to properly hold baby Tuk's head because he was so nervous of hurting her, sat with his mother the night she learned she was pregnant with him. You are always there, always present, and you should not be as tempting to him as you are.

Sweet and kind, smart and strong, and so otherworldly it takes his breath away. Neteyam would have never noticed you as he does now if it wasn't for the other scientist that always crawled around you, that made innapropriate jokes about you behind your back about your body and looks. Neteyam was tempted to throw the disgusting men against a wall the first time he heard them, wanting to defend you.

But after telling Norm and having him deal with the men, Neteyam truly looked at you. You were far prettier than most humans he's met, and you look gorgeous for a woman your age, even better than some pictures he saw of you in your early years. And everything was made worse when his check-up arrived, his slit relaxing so much his cock nearly slipped out when your hands touched his skin, the new, prickling sensation running down his spine was foreign around you.

Things slowly began to become worse for Neteyam, you were now on his mind constantly, making your way into his dreams, bringing the burning ache in his loins with your phantom image. Now Neteyam wants you, needs your touch and experience in places he's refused to explore with anyone else because all he wants is you. Na'vi his age have had their fun and exploration in the years closely following their iknimaya, figuring out their sexuality and finding pleasure in the arms of others.

Neteyam never did the exploration his peers did, he often found himself alone with his hand more and more over the years as his mind offered him images of you and what your body might be like under that damn lab coat. Plenty of young Na'vi have happily inquired about spending a night with him, but he always declined, too caught up with you to ever really desire anyone else.

Everything about what he feels is wrong. You're his father's best friend, been by each other's side since Jake came to Pandora over twenty years ago and fought for his people. And yet he's here, treading through the wilted grass lining the grounds around the overgrown concrete building, jelly legs barely allowing him to slip through the partially opened metal gates to climb the pristine steps to the bright orange pressurized door, briefly looking inside before shaking hands push open the door.

The crammed inside of the pressurized chamber makes Neteyam feel claustrophobic, scrambling to grab the Avatar sized respirator hang off the railing housing all the other human breathing masks, quickly securing it around his neck and taking a light sip of air, clicking his tongue at the metal taste left in his mouth from the CO2 canister hanging from his hip. Neteyam shyly smiles at the scientist and Avatars walking by, giving them a small wave at their enthusiastic smiles. Elated to see Jake Sully's oldest son has finally showed up after so long.

Pulling on the inner door handle leading into the main laboratory, a flood of sound hits him like a wave, causing his ears to lay flat against his head to stop the ringing building in his ear drums. The busy chatter and clinking of the metal devices the scientist use are overwhelming, the familiar boisterous laughter from his siblings echo down the haul is enough to sent him jogging around the little desks and people before they try to talk to him.

Following the sounds of his chaotic siblings, Neteyam rounds the corner, wrinkling his nose at the harsh chemical smell of the sterilization products used to clean all the metal exam tables and cold tools used to poked and prod at the poor victims that are also dragged to these fucking awful check-ups.

In the middle of the bustling medbay is Tuk getting her tail examined just as he expected, a doctor wrapping the gash on the thin limb with white gauze, cleaned of any bits of glass from the glass jar she cut herself on when knocking it over. Lo'ak and Kiri standing in front of her joking and making her laugh as a distraction, tickling her ears and pinching her cheeks until her pout turns into a smile and her tears dry. When she spot Neteyam her tail whips up, smacking the doctor bandaging her and the nurse helping him across the face.

"Teyam!" she raises her arms out waiting for a hug. Neteyam smiles, wrapping his arms around his baby sister, relieved the loud crying that scared the very soul out of him when she called him has calmed to soft sniffles, and against his better judgement– and mild fear– he came running at his baby sister's call.

"Oeyä Tsamsiyutsyìp is so brave." he tells her, petting her short braids as Lo'ak scoffs from behind him.

"Sure, she's a whining mess for us, but a perfect child for him." Lo'ak grumbles, jumping with a yelps at Kiri's reprimanding smack, clutching at his arm as she glares at him. "She has been very brave, taking her check-up so well and being good for the doctors." Kiri praises Tuk, soothing a hand down the little girl's back.

Neteyam chuckles into Tuk's hair at the mumbled complaints Lo'ak lets out before going into a rant to himself at how Tuk prefers everyone but him. Neteyam considers turning around and smacking the back of Lo'ak's head, but decides against it and just keeps hugging Tuk.

Lo'ak stops grumbling to let out a cheery, "Sup, koakte!"

Neteyam freezes as a small hand grabs the end of his tail, soft fingers traveling up the appendage until it reaches the base, giving his tail a firm tug. Neteyam's throats tightens, back straightening as his knees buckles, letting out a gargled scream as he stumbles around to look down at whoever had tugged at him.

Your piercing eyes are alight with mischief as the corner of your lips quirk up in a smirk. "So that's where Tuk gets her scream from." you tease, smiling up at Kiri as Lo'ak snorts with laughter, ruffling Tuk's hair before washing your hands.

The few streaks of grey hidden in your hair is highlighted in the fluorescent lights hanging above, your sweet scent chasing away the harsh chemicals coating the air and filling Neteyam's lungs, holding his sore tail close to him as a way to collect himself and not start panting in your scent like a deranged moron. An unexpected relaxing of his slit causes Neteyam's face to grow hot, turning his body away to hide the slick slowly dripping down onto his loincloth.

"So since Jake said you had the day off, and you aren't stuck doing any last minute duties, why weren't you here earlier for your check-up? Hm?" you question, shaking your hands over the sink before grabbing a handful of scratchy looking towels to dry your hands.

"I-I was in the middle of training the new hunters for Uncle when Tuk called. I should–" Neteyam stumbles over himself, getting cut off as you take over wrapping Tuk's tail.

"You're all set, young lady!" you say snipping the end of the bandage wrap and taping it off. You offer your hands to Tuk to help her hop down from the table, checking over her bandaged tail one last time before sending her off with a sweet treat on a stick and a kiss to her cheek. "Alright, you gremlins, scat." you shoo all the children with a flick of your wrist.

Neteyam guides Tuk to the front, herding Lo'ak and Kiri with almost a mean shove to get them out of the medbay quicker. But your hand wrapping around the end of his tail halts him mid step, "Not you." you tell him, tugging at his tail again as he sends a pleading look to his siblings, they just laugh him off and round the corner as Neteyam's dragged by his tail to the other side of the room.

You pop open the door to one of the exam room, pulling Neteyam until he's standing in front of the doorway, letting go of his tail as you smack his thigh with the back of your hand. "Go on, time for your check-up, scaredy cat."

Neteyam's ears lay back in annoyance at the tease in your voice, eyes falling down to the movement in your coat caused by your swaying hips, looking over your shoulder at him with a knowing smile as he stands in the doorway unmoving. "Neteyam," you coo, giving him a sweet smile, extending your hand out to him. "Come on, big guy, I'll be quick and sweet, I promise."

Neteyam whole body tenses at your words, the very tip of his dick threatening to slip out of his relaxed slit as his fingers stiffen, causing you to laugh as you grab at them to drag him in the rest of the way, keeping your fingers intertwined as you close the door behind you. Neteyam wants to protest when you let go of his hand in favor of grabbing a clipboard hanging off the back of the door.

You pat the worn leather exam table, the contact paper crinkling as you do. "Take off your loincloth and hop on." you tell him, pulling your glasses out your pocket to read the form in front of you.

The very air turns heavy in Neteyam's lungs as his joints lock, unconsciously clenching his thighs as another drop of his slick drips down onto his loincloth, furthering the discomfort in between his legs. "I-I'm sorry?" his voice cracking a bit as his eyes dart towards the door, praying he could leap over you and out the door before Norm or another Avatar could grab him. "No, no I don't think– that's not a good idea."

Peering up over the rim of your glasses, you carefully back into the door, turning the lock before giving him a sweet smile. "Neteyam, I'm a doctor and a professional, I've seen hundreds of naked bodies, and I'm no stranger to Na'vi anatomy. Now, it's just a routine check-up, especially now that you're an adult, it's just a precaution. That's all." you reassure him, putting your clipboard to the side.

You slowly approach him, treating Neteyam like a frightened prey as you take his clenched, shaking fists and give them a firm tug, guiding him to the exam table, splaying a hand out on his lower stomach to sit him down with a cracking complaint from the contact paper under him. "Good job, big guy." you praise him, giving his thigh a comforting squeeze before turning back to your form. "Take it off when you're ready and then we'll start."

Neteyam watches as you turn your back to him, repositioning your glasses on the bridge of your nose as you start filling out Neteyam's chart, giving him the privacy and space to take off his loincloth without you analyzing his every move. Your explanation was a little confusing, now that he was an adult he needed his slit examined as well? Why?

Neteyam unties the knots to his loincloth as he thinks, distracting himself from your ever present image in his mind as he mulls over your words, folding his loincloth and setting it on the side table. "I'm ready." he says, locking his knees so painfully tight to hide how aroused he is, praying you aren't as thorough in your exams like you used to be.

You spin around with a comforting smile, setting your clipboard next to him while placing the pen behind you ear, "So, how ya feeling? Grown a second tail yet?" you ask, saying the same thing you always say to make one of the children laugh to take away their discomfort. You take out a tool from your pocket, shining a light in his eyes and ears, snapping your fingers directly next to his perked ears to check his hearing.

Neteyam rolls his eyes, sticking out a finger to poke at your soft tummy before immediately retreating it back into his lap. "Yup! Right after I grew a fourth finger." he retorts, taking in a shakey breath when you grab at his tail again, running your soft hands up and down the whip like appendage, feeling for anything wrong or out of place.

"That's fantastic!" you reply, pulling at the soft tuft of hair at the end of his tail to make him jump, laughing as you bat his tail away when he tries to retaliate.

Neteyam relaxes under the casual and amusing banter you've begun. A part of him really misses your presence, missed how much fun you are and the sense of peace and calm you give him among the chaos of his daily life. You were once the person he came to when he wanted to hide from his duties and pauses the outside world for a little while; now you're the one person he avoids the most.

You noticed the change, you had to, Neteyam never left you alone from the ages of ten to twenty, constantly at your heels and in your things, the only person allowed to bother you while you were working. You sought Neteyam out a lot when he stopped coming around, concerned he was hurt or not dealing with his stress well, trying to convince him to come back to your office and talk about why he's been avoiding you. But all that got you was further silence and a young warrior that refused to acknowledge your existence in his day to day life.

Neteyam wonders what you think of him now. Do you resent him for avoiding you? Hurt by his actions and are hiding it? You seem to be happy to see him again, even after he's asked for a different doctor to check him over five times in a row, yet you still always persisted and assumed you were checking him over at every check-up, carrying on like he never offended you in such a way.

Guilt gnaws on Neteyam's insides like a parasite, causing him to shift his eyes to the floor once again. The cold metal of your stethoscope bites into Neteyam's sensitive skin, the infuriating feeling chases away by the warmth of your hand as you use his body to lean in closer, carefully listening to his heartbeat and lungs. Finally having enough with the silence between you, he speaks up, "Y/N, I'm–"

"'Tey, take a deep breath from your respirator, your heart's going crazy." you instruct him, lifting the mask off his chest and lifting it as close to his nose as possible as further persistence. Neteyam dips his head, lining his mouth and nose up with respirator, taking a deep breath to appease you. Your brows stay furrow as you continue to listen to his breathing, eventually perching your lips and sighing, "Better than nothing, white coat syndrome at it's best."

You pull away, writing down your little notes in your form, taking his blood pressure before folding your stethoscope and putting it away on your side table along with the rest of your tools. "Alright!" you cheer, patting Neteyam's knee.

Neteyam's body deflates under your touch, sighing in relief as he reaches for his loincloth, grateful for this whole thing to be over pain free and as quick as you could have possibly done.

"Just spread those thighs for me; I'll check your slit quickly and then we'll be done!"

If possible, Neteyam prays the ground under him would open up and allow him to gladly be swallowed whole, succumbing to a slow, dark death buried under thousands of pounds of dirt over having to open his legs and show you his overly relaxed slit with his hard cock trying to slip out between his clenched muscles.

Neteyam's eyes must be bulging out of their sockets because you begin to laugh as he starts into his protests. "Absolutely not! No, I'm not s-spreading my– NO!" he almost yells, scooting away from your shakey attempts through your laughter to comfort him, but immediately slides back into his original place from the puddle of slick pooling under him.

You bite your bottom lip to cover your giggles, taking a deep breath through your nose to center yourself. "Neteyam," you begin, covering a chuckle building in your throat with a cough. Your hands land on his trembling thighs, massaging the lithe muscle as you move from the outside in, continuing this torturous cycle in your sweet way of calming the frightened warrior in front of you.

But Neteyam wasn't some tough warrior that's scared of a little physical check-up to you. He's... Neteyam: The sweet boy that was absolutely obsessed with you in his younger years, his little crush on you beyond obvious to you and his parents, but threatened Jake to not say anything, not wanting to embarrass the poor boy.

He's Neteyam: The young man that you've admired for the last two years with growing curiosity, the young man that you've thought about night and day since his sudden and confusing absence in your life, the young man you've been thinking the most carnal, lust filled things about since you truly saw how much of a man he's become six months ago at the Festival Hunt, entranced by his kind smile and godly body that moved fluidly with the loud, booming beat he was dancing to.

It was wrong, and you despise yourself for it, but God are you so fucking desperate for him. Imagining his large hands holding your body down as he plows into you, hovering above him as you ride him until your legs give out, on your knees for him, forcing him in between your thighs as you play with his long braids. You bite at the inside of your cheek so hard you taste blood, forcing yourself back into reality as you catch your hands from going to far in between his trembling legs to the smooth, soft skin of his inner thighs, the heat emanating from his loins dangerously enticing.

"Sweet boy, I know it's very uncomfortable having someone poke around at such a sensitive area, but it's routine, just a standard procedure for a sexually active adult. It's nothing, I promise." you tell him, running your hands up to rest on his waist to give his sides an affectionate squeeze. "Plus, the exams for the ladies are way worse, so suck it up." you joke, releasing his waist in favor of pinching his toned bicep.

Neteyam's face flushes purple, his ears, face, neck, and chest growing darker as his raging blush spreads. "I'm not– you don't need–"

"No excuses; spread 'em!" You shush him, grabbing at his knees and shaking his legs.

Neteyam squeezes his thighs at your light attempt to manually spread his legs. "But, I've never–"

"No buts! Come on, Neteyam, just a quick in and out!"

Red hot embarrassment burning through Neteyam's veins at your unintended innuendo, sitting forward to grab your shoulders and push your body away from his sealed legs. "I'm not sexually active, I don't need a check up." he gets out quickly, continuing to push at your shoulder so he can stand, but your firm grip on his thighs keeps him from moving any further than the table.

"Even if you're not, you still need to be–" your brows furrow as lips pull down into a frown, bewilderment clouding your beautiful face for a moment, head slowly tilting down to look between your bodies. Horror fills ever fibre of Neteyam's being as he follows your gaze, watching with you as his now fully erect cock sits nestled against your stomach, precum staining your shirt and pristine white coat.

"That's why you didn't want to spread 'em..." you try to joke, stiff as a statue as you try to process how to handle the glorious situation throbbing against your abdomen.

Neteyam chokes on his own nervous laughter, bruising your shoulders in a crushing grip to keep you in place to hide his cock just a little bit, but the warmth of your skin radiating through the thin top you're wearing isn't helping the painful pulse of arousal coarsing down his dick and into his swollen balls.

"I'm so sorry," he breathes, shame thickening his throat to the point he couldn't talk with his voice coming out raspy and broken. "I didn't mean– I just–" Neteyam stops to collect himself. "Please don't think I did this on purpose, I would never do anything like this, I promise."

Silence fills the cold air around Neteyam as you just stare down at his twitching cock, the silver in your hair more prominent than ever as it's the only thing Neteyam can see. You slowly raise your hand, tentatively dragging your small finger down his hyper sensitive tip, looking up to smirk at him when Neteyam shamelessly moans at the lightest of touches. "Sweet boy, are you... ashamed of your virginity?" you ask, tracing one large, bulging vein running down the underside of his cock.

Neteyam's knees buckle, falling down onto the exam table in a flustered mess, face twisting in pleasure as he harshly bites at his plump bottom lip, desperate to hide his wanting moans at your light touch.

Your grip tightens, suddenly jerking his cock as you lean forward, resting your elbows on his thighs. "I ask you a question, Neteyam." your thumb teases his tip, smearing his bioluminescent precums down his shaft with a feather light touch. Neteyam's hips buck up, seeking relief, "Y-Yes, I know others are m-more experienced. You just– I can't help myself around you."

All your movements stop, critical eyes scanning Neteyam's disheveled state, an unreadable mask settling over your face. Slowly, you raise a brow, "Oh?" Is all you say, releasing Neteyam's cock, ignoring his whining complaints as you tug off your lab coat, throwing to the side before climbing up onto the table, placing yourself between Neteyam's spread thighs. "You can't help yourself how? Do you touch yourself thinking about me? Cum into your hand imagining it's my pussy?"

A broken whine leaves Neteyam's throat at your words, weeping cock jumping from it's place resting on your thigh. "Yes! Think of you all the time, Eywa, I can't cum without imagining you." he confesses, reaching down to stroke himself, longing for sweet relief. You painfully slap his hand away, folding his hands together and placing them on his chest, a satisfied smile making it's way to your lips when Neteyam obediently keeps his hands where you placed them.

Your slender fingers find their way back to Neteyam's impressive cock, mouth watering at the delicious sight before you. He's bigger than any human or Na'vi you've ever seen, and he's all yours. You finally give his cock a full stroke, beginning a steady rhythm of pumping his length as you coo down at him. "Aww, what a pathetic little virgin, so needy he has to jerk off to the thought of his father's best friend bouncing on top of his pretty cock."

Neteyam nods, moaning like a whore through his hiccups. Your cunt throbbing at his pleading cries, cock throbbing in your hands as his hips lift, fucking up into your fist. "Oh Eywa, yes! Please, Y/N, please!" You smile down at him, meeting his every incoherent babble with a mocking pout, giggling when a single tear rolls down his temple.

"What do you need my little slut? Tell me, babyboy, do you want to cum?" you ask, your wrist aching from how hard you're tugging against his long cock, slippery fingers exploring his length as you stroke down, gliding the wet digits across his engorged knot. Your eyes follow your fingers as they trace the painfully hard knot, pushing lightly at the swollen ball of tissue. A part of you is cocky enough to believe you could train yourself to take Neteyam's knot. If he could even last long enough for that, poor boy's balls are so swollen and tight after only a few minutes that you're surprised he hasn't exploded yet.

"Srane, oe lonu new! Rutxe..." he groans, humping into your hand with such desperation and force your whole body is jostled forward. You splay your other hand out across Neteyam's knot, the sudden pressure enough to make his look up, tear filled eyes blinking down at you as you lean down, tongue laid out to connect with his purple tip, humming at his sweet taste invades your taste buds.

"Then cum for me, pretty boy." you tell him just as you take his tip into your mouth, tongue rolling over the sensitive slit as your cheeks hallow, your other hand squeezing hard around his knot. Neteyam's jaw goes slack, eyes rolling back into his head as his hot seed coats your tongue in a pretty shade of glowing blue cum, rope after rope of his thick cum coating your lower face and chest as you milk him for all he's worth.

Neteyam's body continues to twitch and shiver from the pleasuring aftershocks of his orgasm, gasping when you give his tip one last lick before letting go entirely, unfocused eyes growing heavy as he stares up at you with a drunkened smile. You match his smile, "What's that look for?"

His eyes flutter close for a moment before refocusing on you, "My life long crush just gave me a leg numbing orgasm... I'm happy." he says, hoarse voice coming out gravely as he dozes off, his tail wrapping around your thigh, his hands lazily landing on your hips.

You're beyond amused, chuckling as his sharp teeth flash in the fluorescent lighting when he yawns, the uncomfortable stickiness in your panties causing you to shift to sit ontop of his strong thigh.

You pat his chest, shaking him awake, "Up and at 'em, pretty boy. My turn next."

©️Eywaite2024 | All rights reserved. Do not republish, steal, repost, modify, translate or claim any of my work as your own.

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[imlovewithpixels]

Hey, is it alright if I put in a request for a yandere Connor, nines, and 60? Specifically, them falling over the same human? I'm not sure what the reader would do to get a frankly suspicious amount of connors into them. Maybe they can be.. An artist or something, that supports the revolution? (Also, if you could add some non-con in there, i'd die but like in a good way) thanks!

(Dark, manipulation, non con/rape, vaginal fingering, abuse of power, overstimulation, afab!reader)

(Yandere!Connor, Nines, Sixty x reader)

Biological

AU where Connor, Nines, and Sixty all work at the DPD. Connor gets adopted by hank and is now Officially Connor Anderson AND he's captain of the police force

Up until now, you always thought Officer Nines hated you.

You aren't a cop. And you consider yourself unqualified to hold anything above a water gun. Regardless, your work rehabilitating androids requires you to visit the precinct often: gathering evidence for abuse, and testimonials from victims. Anything you can get your hands on to ensure the client your boss takes on will get the help they need.

It'd make sense that you'd get recognized eventually. Officer Chen greeted you with a simple head nod these days. Detective Sixty was a little more crude, preferring you call you petty nicknames with a sarcastic lilt in his voice.

Captain Anderson ("Conner," he'd insisted on so many times, his LED spinning a pleasant blue, "Just Conner is fine") would be more friendly. The RK800 models may look the same but no one ever mistook one for the other. Captain Anderson was kind, the only one of the models to take on a more human name. Whenever you stayed at the precinct a bit longer than you were comfortable with, he often volunteered to walk you to your car.

But Officer Nines just stared. Eyes tracing your footsteps until you were out of his view and even then you would feel it. He had to dislike you, you always thought, there's no way he couldn't.

At least, that's what you assumed until his lips met yours in the darkness of a closet.

"Pay attention." Detective Sixty's harsh voice broke through your head. He was here too. Between all the chaos, your struggle, you'd stopped to notice two sets of hands had grabbed you into the tiny room, shutting the door as soon as you stumbled through.

"Humans can't see when the light is so low," Officer Nines mused. He had moved to your neck now, tasting your skin. A large hand was covering your mouth, most likely because you screamed too loudly for their taste.

"It's instinct to be scared," the way he spat out the word felt so condescending and spitful. As though he were looking down on you. In a way, it made sense. Who were you compared to metal and wires?

In the end, his argument helped you. The lights flickered on, letting you finally see them. Nines was at your front, his synthetic hair brushed against your jaw. Sixty's hands were gripped along your waist, traveling longer and longer.

You didn't want to think what this was.

"Officers?" your voice was a squeak, barely a sound, "Please what's going-"

Nines' teeth scrapping over your neck makes you snap your mouth shut, curling into yourself. He's the opposite of biology, but his tongue feels so animalistic on your skin, leaving a wet trail. You tremble in their hold. Sixty gives a mean laugh.

"Come on, you can't be that stupid, can you?" He huffs in your ear, nibbling on it, making you jolt, "The big guy here has always wanted a taste. You'll be nice enough to give him one, yes?"

Nines gives a noise of disapproval, pulling back to watch you. You've never seen his gaze so soft before. Hands wipe the tears on your face.

"As if you weren't more desperate," Nines hums, affectionately kissing the corner of your mouth when you start shivering, "You'd still be following around like a lovesick puppy."

Sixty huffs at that, muttering something you can't pick apart.

It's not quite a smile, but Nines' eyes look satisfied when he kisses you again, exploring your mouth with the same softness. It makes sense why. They're not human. You can't hurt them, no matter what they do to you.

Sixty proves it by catching both of your wrists, pinning them behind you as he continues to shuck off your pants, revealing your cotton panties.

Nines pulls away when you start begging again, more delirious, more desperate.

"Don't-don't-" you can barely spit them out, the terror sinking into your tone, "I-I don't-"

He hushes you. It's not quite a frown on his porcelain face, but it's enough to depict how unsatisfied he was with your behavior.

"Don't worry," he says, low, almost like he aims to comfort you, "it's simply biological for humans to enjoy sex."

He says it so flippantly, as though it was a fact. The sky is blue. Fire is hot. They were going to fuck you and you were going to like it.

You flinch when he goes to touch you again, a hand trailing down your neck.

"Looks like this one doesn't like you anymore," Sixty sniggers, palming your ass through your panties, "maybe you should step out. Let us have some alone time."

Nines gives a full frown that time. His disapproval bleeds into his actions.

Nines is a lot less gentle on your clothes. The button-up you were wearing is no match for his strength. You yelp when he rips it open, buttons fly and bounce away. You're pushed further into Sixty's hold, something the Detective readily accepts.

Lithe fingers delve underneath your panties, busying themselves with your pussy. You twitch under his hold. Already your body reacts, despite your disgust, your fear, your dignity.

It's simply biological for humans to enjoy sex.

They were wrong. You didn't enjoy this. You didn't fucking want this. You opened your mouth, fully intent on screaming. Were any of the officers still here? Captain Anderson often kept a late schedule, right?

A hand clamped down on your neck, causing your voice to stagger, stop. Despite your fear, common sense kicks in. Nines would have no problem snapping your neck if you provoked him.

A single look from him is all you need to curl in on yourself. Your will to fight leaves as soon as it arrives. You sink back into his hold.

"See?" Sixty croons in your ear, finding your clit, "Doesn't it feel better when you just give in?"

You sob, it's a pathetic whimper, barely getting out of your throat. Despite your clear struggle, your body gives up immediately. You can feel your pussy grow wet as Sixty continues his assault on your clit.

You gasp when he finds your pussy, one finger pushing into your sopping hole as his thumb rubs circles on your clit. There's a hint of pain, and then Nines kisses you again. It feels like a distraction. It feels like a punishment. Somehow, it ends up being both.

By now, his fingers have left your neck. He grasps your bra, pulling the cups down to squeeze your tits. There's a skillful push of Sixty's fingers, and then you're moaning into Nines' mouth.

"Such a pretty body," Nines sighs when he parts when your lips. He glances down, flicking at your nipple, watching as they harden under his attention. "So reactive as well."

You hiss, arching your back as Sixty delves a second finger, positioning them deep inside you.

"Oh, you're close, aren't you?" Sixty sneers. "I can feel it."

You shake your head, but it'd be nothing but a lie. You can feel yourself slowly tipping over the edge.

When you come, it's nothing but devasting. Smashing you on the ground, shattering you. The only reason you don't collapse is because Sixty hadn't stopped moving inside you, yet.

Your pleas change, begs for him to stop because it hurts now. Sixty pays you no mind. He's more focused on the android in front of you, the one who watched your orgasm with haunting blue eyes.

"Well, big guy?" He asks, pulling his fingers out, "You said you wanted a taste, right?"

He doesn't waste a second, dropping to his knees. Every part of Nines is inhuman, his mouth especially. You keen at the temperature when his tongue dives into your folds. So hot, almost burning.

Nines eats you out like a man starved. He's pulled the panties off of you, the scrap of fabric abandoned on the floor. It's wet, messy, but the overwhelming pleasure of it forces you to toss your head back against Sixty's shoulder, whispering out your pleas through stilted moans. He plays the good cop this time, humming praises and coos into your neck, until you're cumming for the second time.

Nines relents when your thighs are shaking, close to giving out entirely. When he lifts himself up, he's wiping his lips away with the back of his hand. He doesn't break eye-contact with you, not as he starts unbuckling his pants because why would you think they'd stop at just ruining you?

The door swings open, catching all three of you off guard. Nines reacts the quickest, covering your mouth before you can scream. You can only stare into the Captain's brown eyes.

He really does look like Sixty when he's frowning. So far, you've only seen him giving soft smiles.

He's out of his uniform. That should have been your first sign.

"Gentlemen," he says, eyeing both Sixty and Nines before his gaze lands on you. His LED spins yellow. You can't even imagine what he's thinking. That his two best officers could do this.

And yet, the evidence is right in front of him.

"Cap'," Sixty responds.

That should have been your second sign. How casual they were about being found out.

"You're late." Nines says and you suddenly have this horrible thought that you weren't about to be saved.

Captain Anderson lets out a laugh, shaking his head.

"You were always much more impatient than you let on," he chides, brown eyes raking over your heaving body, "some of us had work to do. Why do you think no one heard you despite the recuss you all made?"

Nines lowers his hand from your mouth. Sixty leans into your ear. "He means you." He whispers but you can only stare at the Captain, his soft face, unassuming features.

You flinch at the hand caressing your cheek, but Captain Anderson doesn't bother. He traces a finger across your face, gently collecting the tears.

"Have they been nice to you?" Connor asks as though he can't see himself, "I'm sorry I wasn't able to get here before. I'll stop them if they go to far again."

You can feel Sixty's grin slice into your neck. Above you, Nine's is muttering something. You can't focus on any of it. It's all mush, sludge as the Captain's face remains eerily soft.

You must have forgotten. These weren't deviant androids.

They were rotten men.

"Captain-"

"I keep telling you over and over again," he sighs. The door shuts behind him. He smiles.

You think the worst part is his LED: A circling, calm blue.

"Call me Connor."

[imlovewithpixels]

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Call me Poly! I’m a dark content writer and I generally write nsfw so minors dni pls. Currently my hyperfixation is jjk and jjk related stuff only:)

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My Hero Academia: Masterlist  Hunter x Hunter: Masterlist  Obey me: One master to rule them all: Masterlist Jujutsu Kaisen: Masterlist Connor DBH: Masterlist  Miscellaneous/Other Fandoms: Masterlist

Recent Fics 

Moon Starves Sun - The aftermath of Sun Eats Moon in Gojo’s perspective (Dark!Gojo Satoru) The Monster You Know - For your own safety, the strongest sorcerer of today kidnaps you (Dark!Gojo Satoru)

Upcoming Fics(maybe) 

Family Man - Gojo Satoru wakes up in the body of Sawai Satoshi, a 35-year-old man with a wife and a newborn (Dark!Gojo Satoru) Infinite Stop - Ending B of Infinite Rewind Third Wheel - Regardless of what Satoru and Suguru tell you, you’ve always felt left out in this relationship. But when you leave, you quickly find out there’s no line your ex-lovers won’t cross to get you back (Dark! Satosugu)

[imlovewithpixels]

Family Man

Yandere!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word Count: 7.7k

Synopsis: Gojo Satoru wakes up in the body of Sawai Satoshi, a 35-year-old man with a wife and a newborn

(Warnings: Yandere, dark, brief contemplation of torture, ooc gojo, he gets better tho, explicit smut, dubcon(?), piv sex, f!oral recieving, not many warnings in this one...)

One morning, Gojo Satoru wakes up in a bed that isn't his. 

His bedsheets are expensive, silk, nothing less. He feels cotton pillowcases, and the bed feels smaller. 

He must have gone home with someone last night. 

He can feel them cuddled up to his side. Usually, he's gone by the morning, but he must have fallen asleep. Makes sense: missions these days have been getting more and more exhausting. 

Within his thoughts, he can admit that it's a nice way to wake up, but he needs to go. The sun's already high in the sky, and Ijichi will turn into a nervous wreck if he's late, again. At this point, Gojo just pities the man for even trying. 

When he shifts, the figure next to him moves too. A voice, soft and raspy. 

"Satoshi. Stop moving." 

He must have given an alias. Or maybe you just didn't remember his name. 

You're still half-asleep. Your brow is pinched in annoyance, and he finds that a little funny. You're a foreigner. He can tell from your skin tone, your hair, your accent. Despite your face buried in the blankets, he finds you pretty, and it felt like a good night.

But you two did fuck, right? 

It doesn't feel like it. He doesn't feel like he just had sex. He can't even remember what he did with you. When he looks down, Gojo realizes that he's dressed in clothes he knows he doesn't own. 

Also, he isn't wearing a blindfold, but his eyes aren't hurting. 

Too many things are wrong. When Gojo calls for his technique, he feels nothing. Too many things are going wrong. Was it you? Were you some curse user that lured him into bed or something? Did you shut off his CT? He needs to figure it out. Is there rope nearby? A knife? He needs something sharp that will make you scream and cry but he can't take too much blood because if you pass out he won't get answers- 

And then, he does hear crying. Muffled. 

It's coming from a baby monitor. 

"Ugh, no." You groan. "I thought we'd have a few more minutes." 

You're shuffling off the bed, stretching before you shoot him a sleepy smile. 

"I'll get her. Breakfast will be ready in twenty." 

You blow him a kiss, and then you're gone. 

Gojo sits up, and he studies himself again. 

His hands are shorter, unkept. The thing that unnerves him the most are the scars. Papercuts, blemishes. He's never gotten a scar in his life. Infinity protected him from that. 

But he doesn't have infinity anymore. And he doesn't think he's Gojo anymore, either. 

When he stands, he feels shorter, too. The world is bigger when he creeps into the bathroom. He flicks the lights on and looks in the mirror. 

Satoshi stares right back at him. 

↻

Gojo doesn't like being surprised. 

He actually hates surprises, so this shit is starting to put a damper on his mood. 

He considered that it may be a dream, but everything is too realistic. It has to be someone's shitty cursed technique. All that he knows is that he's currently possessing Sawai Satoshi's body. 

Age 35, from his license. The picture of him depicts a man who's starting to bald, and timid eyes. Gojo's pretty sure he's an office worker. A family man. Judging from the pictures, he and his wife just had a baby girl a couple of months ago. 

Sawai's wife. You. 

First things first, he needs to find this Satoshi guy. There's a big chance that Sawai is out there in Japan with his body and cursed technique. That is not good. And if anyone else found out what happened...

Fuck, he needs to find this guy.

Being normal is strange. He doesn't get headaches from just seeing anymore, so that's nice. Without infinity, he feels the carpet, the walls, the wooden rails, the air. It's like an out of body experience.

Eh, at least he still has his humor. 

Something's talking in the kitchen, and there's babbling. He ignores it, in favor of the door. 

"Where are you off to?" 

You're right there, head tilted and an amused smile. Gojo hasn't been this stumped in a while. He blinks. 

"Work." He finally blurts out. Satoshi has an office job. He can use that excuse. 

You laugh, and it sounds like a wind chime. 

"It's the weekend." You tell him. "Did you forget?" 

Shit. You frown at your 'husband' in sympathy. 

"They're working you too hard; I keep telling you to talk to your boss." You hum. "Anyway, food's ready! Coming?" 

You don't give him a chance to respond, ushering him along until he's sitting on a stiff wooden chair. It looks like it's seen better days. The table has scuffed wood. 

Two plates are sitting on either side of the table. Still steaming. Gojo doesn't remember the last time he ate a meal that wasn't made by a microwave or apathetic servants. He's been so busy with the jujutsu world and his students and...just everything. 

Sawai's daughter is kicking her feet on the highchair next to him. She's an infant, under a year old. She babbles something in a high-pitched squeal, giggling at him. 

You coo something at her that isn't Japanese, feeding her something that resembles apple sauce. When you look over at him again, you frown. 

"You okay?" You ask. 

He stares. 

"You haven't touched your food yet?" You continue. "Don't like it?" 

"No." He says sharply. And then he takes a bite. "It's delicious." 

It's the truth. You grin, and you turn back to your daughter. 

Despite the baby's squeals, the buzzing of the fan, it's quiet. Gojo isn't used to that. Quiet, slow, peaceful. He's used to fast, blinding flashes, urgent messages from sorcerers calling him all across the globe. Roaring special grades with sharp teeth and human-like smiles. 

Is this what being human felt like? 

He takes another bite, and he thinks he forgot to do something. 

↻

It's easy to piece yours and Sawai's lives together. 

He worked overseas. That's where he met you. You were a traditional dancer in your country, and considering the various medals and pictures, you were good at it. Gojo wonders if that's how you and Sawai met. If he was just among the crowd and saw you on stage. Did he make the first move? Or did you see him fidget in the corner before you gathered enough sympathy to talk first? You and Sawai got married in your country before you moved to Japan. Reina is your first child. You're a homemaker. Sawai is a salaryman. You two would celebrate your fifth anniversary this year.

It's a simple, normal life. Gojo finds it a little boring. 

Breakfast was nice, but he needed to get out of there. Gojo couldn't afford normal. 

You caught him again in his second escape attempt. 

"Why are you so ansty today?" You ask, folding laundry. "You're usually ecstatic to sleep on the couch all weekend." 

Because he isn't Sawai, he doesn't lounge around all day on the couch. But he can't tell you that. From all accounts, you look like a non-sorcerer, so clearly, this body-switching fiasco isn't your fault. Though, the name Sawai sounds familiar, but Gojo can't place it. 

"You've even gotten Oka riled up, Toshi." You fold up one of Sawai's shirts. 

Right, the cat. Sawai's cat, before the marriage. Animals have always had a better sense of cursed energy. The thing has been hissing at him all morning. Gojo wants to tell him the feeling's mutual. 

"Maybe he's hungry." Gojo shrugs. "And I've been..." 

He doesn't know what to say, so he stops. 

You sigh, tucking away the last of the laundry. He's seated on a couch he didn't buy. You sit next to him, arm stretched out so you can fiddle with his sleeve. 

"Listen, I know what's going on." 

He stares. You give a trepid smile, pulling a loose thread off his sleeve. It's barely even a touch, yet it burns. 

"It's work. It's always work. God, this morning you were so out of it, you nearly hopped on the train if I hadn't stopped you." You start. "This isn't healthy. Have you talked to your boss about some time off?" 

He and Sawai have more in common than he thought. Gojo can see it in the mirror : the sleepless nights and the stress. Is this how he'll end up in seven years? How depressing. 

A vacation. Gojo had seen the emails on Sawai's computer. His team treated him like a rat, just dumping more and more work on him. Sawai so far hasn't even told them no. This guy needs a backbone, but Gojo doubts he'll get one soon. 

But why does he care? Who gives a single shit? He needs to get out of here; why is he sitting here listening to Sawai's wife?

"Hey?" You nudge him, and Gojo is again forced to stare into your beautiful eyes. 

“You okay?”

You needed to stop doing that. Looking at him in a way no one has looked at him before. Lovingly, adoringly, like he's more precious than gold. 

That look isn't for him—he knows that—it's for the man who married you. The man you had a child with. And he needs to go. His students are waiting for him. Yaga’s blood pressure must be raising a mile per minute.

But it's so quiet here. Peaceful. 

And he doesn't feel like Gojo anymore. 

"Toshi?" You ask. It's enough to break the glass. Shards jab themselves into his brain, painful enough that he snaps out of it. 

Gojo clumsily stumbles off the couch, frazzled, vulnerable. That's dangerous for the strongest. You pull back, concerned. 

"Where-" 

"Out." He spits like poison. "I'm going out." 

What was he doing, Gojo thinks when he finally stumbles out the door. Everything looks so much different without the six eyes. Less clearer, he can't see the make up of things, he's no longer looking through that biological microscope. 

Still, it's too much. He flinches against the blinding sun. Around him people don't give him a second glance. He's not used to that, not being the center of attention. Right, he isn't six feet and towering over everyone. Now, he's one in the crowd. One of a million. 

He doesn't know where he is. Gojo knew he should've grabbed Sawai's phone but you were right there and everything gets so distracting when you're right there. 

Even when he's away from you, the house, the quiet, he still can't stop thinking about it. It's irritating. He wants to claw out his brain, shred it to ribbon just so he can stop. He's Gojo. The strongest. He wasn't made to be this: pathetic, whimsical, human. 

Gojo stops right in the middle of the street. Someone sends him a glare, but people pass him by. Nothing's any different. Cars and buses go down the road. People chatter. Kids run to school. Even when the strongest disappeared, the world still turned. Life goes on. 

He keeps looking at his hands. Scarred. And yet you held them like they were gold itself. Precious beyond anything else. A touch that wasn't coated in deep lust and greed. He must be crazy. He must be touch-starved. Was he so pathetic that a warm breakfast and a touch of kindness from the wife of the body he had taken over enough for him?

Gojo thinks he starts walking again. He isn't too sure, but the next time he stops, he comes face to face with a train station. 

Chiba, the words taunt him. It would take him less than an hour to get to Tokyo. Sawai has a little cursed energy, he could find the school. He could get this all sorted out. 

And then, he could go back to his life. Killing curse after curse. One sleepless night after another. 

Gojo needs to enter the station. He doesn't. 

He thinks about his parents, of all things. Barely involved in his youth, far far away than he ever was. The bed was always cold. The night's were dark. And then, he thinks about little Reina, with chubby hands and fingers. When she cried, you came. This morning the bed was warm from you snuggled up next to him. He hadn't slept that well in years. 

It's funny what a couple hours of humanity could do. He thought it'd be easy to leave behind. He hasn't been treated like a human for a long while. He thought the habit would be easy to shake. 

There's a hand on his shoulder. He turns. You're there. Of course you are. With wide eyes, a concerned frown. You shake him a bit. He just stares. 

"Toshi?" You call, looking around and Gojo realizes you don't even have the right shoes to be walking around. 

"Where did you go? What are you doing?" You question, your tone sinking and spilling like caramel. 

He gives no answer. Your shoulders drop. 

"Come on." You murmur. "Let's go home." 

You tug on his hand. 

Satoru follows. 

↻

"I'm taking you to the hospital." You tell him.

Satoru comes out of his daze when you speak to him. So far, you'd been talking quietly to a woman in her late forties, thanking her profusely. He zoned out after that, sitting on the couch, where you had left him. 

"No." He instantly replies. "I'm fine." 

"Fine." You repeat, a bite in your voice that he hasn't heard before. "You ran out, barely dressed, didn't even take your phone. You were gone for an hour. I had to call Miss Matsuda to watch Reina while I scrambled all over the streets looking for you. And when I did find you, you were staring at a train station sign."  

You cross your arms over your chest. "And-and now, it's like you're not even concerned at what just happened! Do you know how worried I was? How scared I was?"

You're on him in an instant, barely an inch away. Satoru thinks he can stare into your eyes forever. 

"Please, just...talk to me." 

But he also knows he needs to fix this, because Sawai's heart is killing him. 

He does what he wished he could have done with Suguru, all those years ago. For the first time in a decade, he gives into his inhibitions. 

You're warm, and you sink into his hold, collapsing on top of him like it's all you've ever wanted. He tightens his grip on you, smelling your shampoo. 

"I'm sorry." His voice is muffled but he knows you can hear him. "I didn't mean to leave you alone. I didn't mean to scare you." 

"I was just being a jerk." 

You're silent for a while. Satoru feels something wet seep into his shirt. 

"Yeah." You say, quiet, damp. "You were a jerk. I wanna call you something else but Reina's right there." 

He laughs. You do too, and then you lean off of him, taking his face in your hands so he can look into your eyes all over again. He finds himself leaning into touch. Maybe it's instinct.

"I wasn't scared of you." You say honestly. "I was scared for you. You've been acting strange all morning." 

"I know." He answers. "But I'm fine now." You give him a look. "No really, I'm fine! I just...figured myself out. It took a while." 

He's being selfish, plain and simple. Satoru was tired, exhausted. He just wants a break. The house is quiet. And he doesn't feel like Gojo anymore. Satoru decided that he's taking a break from being the strongest. He wants to see what normal people live like. 

Maybe it's pettiness, but he's a little sick of constantly solving other people's problems. For once, he would let other people do the work. 

And you're warm underneath his fingertips. 

"What did you figure out?" You ask, settled right next to him.

In the background, Reina babbles something.

He shakes his head and closes his eyes.

↻

Being human has its perks. 

Satoru doesn't get headaches anymore. Usually, just a couple of minutes without his blindfold is enough to give Satoru migraines. Its odd not having it on all the time, but he can get used to seeing things the way normal people see. Without the swirls of cursed energy. 

The downside is that he can get hurt now. Even by a scrawny cat. 

"Oka!" You scold as the bastard cat races down the hallway, out of site. Satoru hisses, flexing his scratched hand. 

"What is up with him today? Let me see." Instantly, you're by his side, checking his palm. Satoru feels you're too close. Infinity doesn't keep you away. 

He wonders if he'd even want to activate his technique with you around. 

"It's not that bad." You mutter to yourself, dragging him to the kitchen. "Let's just clean it before it gets infected." 

You sit him down on the kitchen stool. It creaks under his weight. Satoru watches as you dab a cotton ball with alcohol, before gently pressing it into his wound. You're so soft when you're touching him. Like you think you could accidentally break him somehow. He finds it cute. Satoru doesn't know why he lingers on your gentleness. It's probably because no one's ever treated him like he was fragile before. Something worth protecting. 

But your protection isn't for him. It's for Sawai. 

"I definitely expected some whining." You smile, placing a band-aide on his hand. "You were always so queasy when the aid-kit came out. Guess you finally got a pain-tolerance, hm?" You tease and Sawai gets more and more pathetic in Satoru's eyes. 

You put the kit away, sliding off the stool. There are downsides of being human, but he thinks the upsides make up for it. 

The cat definitely hates him, but he doesn't care about that. Satoru just wants the quiet. It's still peaceful. 

That's interrupted when the baby starts crying. 

Satoru can hear you in the other room, hushing her, trying to get Reina to settle down. She's been howling for the past ten minutes. Satoru doesn't move from the TV. It's not his place to do anything. He isn't Sawai. 

"Okay favorite parent." He hears you grumble as you come out with a squirming Reina, still sobbing. "Your turn." 

Before he can tell you no, you're already placing the child into his lap. Satoru freezes. 

He's rarely around kids. All his students were independent teenagers. He doesn't think he's ever interacted with a baby, an infant, before. It's instinct to hold her, keeping her in his lap. He stares. Reina sniffles, her sobs quiet. 

"Every single time." You scoff, but you don't sound very annoyed. "I don't get why she likes you more than me. I'm around more, aren't I?" 

Reina is looking back at him, and he wonders who she's seeing. Her father, or the man who's wearing his skin? 

The infant sniffles a little more. Her whimpers turn into coos, then shaky breaths as she slowly starts to settle in his arms. Satoru's never had anyone feel comfortable in his arms. His hands were meant to manipulate space and time. Destroy. He's killed curses with his hands. Humans too. 

Little Reina falls asleep right in between them. 

Satoru swallows. It feels so delicate. He can barely bring himself to move. 

You sit right next to him, watching her. 

"She's so cute when she's not being a demon, hm?" You ask. Satoru doesn't respond. You lean a little closer. 

"Hey," you say, voice warm and when Satoru looks at you, you have soft eyes, "I can take her. I know you want to rest today." 

"It's fine." Satoru speaks without thinking. "I got her." 

You blink, but after a while, you move back. Satoru cradles Reina to his chest. She's soft, and he keeps an extra light hold on her because he's afraid one wrong move would crush her completely. Satoru can hear her soft snores, her light babbles. It doesn't break the quiet. 

There's a weight on his shoulder as you settle in. You let out a content sigh, and Satoru feels something fill up inside of him, something that was once void. 

"I feel like it's been a while since we've done something like this," you say, voice quiet, "just...sat together, watching her." 

Satoru thinks back to the dark circles underneath Sawai's eyes, the weight gain from stress. 

"Toshi?" You ask, and it's Satrou's habit to look back at you. "Have you ever considered Japan...might not be the best place for us?" 

He stares at you. 

"Japan is my home," he says, and he has a feeling Sawai would have said that too. 

"I know." You smile. "It's mine too. But...is that enough reason to stay?" 

You shift, leaning away from him and he misses your warmth. You rest your head against the sofa, propping your head up with a fist. 

"I was thinking." You shrug, reaching over to pick lint off of his sleeves. "Maybe we should go back to my country. If it's work...my cousin works in the same industry as you. I'm sure he can find you something worth your time. I'm sure my parents would love to be closer to Reina, too." You reach up, brushing a finger against the infant's cheek. "We'd have a community, right?" 

There it was. You were lonely. Home alone with an infant. Doing nothing but attending the house. You used to be a dancer. You were good at it. Satoru wonders how much you sacrificed for the man you called your husband. In some ways, you're a little like him. 

There's no point in lying. He isn't Sawai, even as he holds Sawai's kid and Sawai's wife. In the end, he'd have to return to his body. This was a vacation. This was just a break. 

"I'll think about it." 

He agrees anyway, just to see you beam, like sunlight streaming through the window. You give him a quick kiss. 

Satoru barely holds himself back from returning the favor. 

Everything ends eventually. For Satoru, the end came later that evening. 

There's a knock on the door. He's rising up to get it. Currently, you and Reina were out on a shopping trip. He wanted to go too, but you insisted he rested. Satoru expects mail, some kind of package. 

Gojo Satoru stands in front of him. 

Tall, wearing that black outfit, Satoru always used to wear. White hair up, blindfold covering blue eyes. It was a nearly perfect imitation of the real thing. 

"Hi," Gojo says, voice frail and weak, "I-I think we need to talk." 

Sawai is exactly what Satoru pictured. Timid, quiet, stutters through his sentences. He's still not used to his new body, angling it around, trying to sit on the couch with clear difficulty. Satoru manages to piece his story together after fifteen minutes or so. Everything was Sawai's fault, right from the start. 

"Soul switching." Satoru says when Sawai's done babbling. "What an interesting technique. And you can't control it?" 

Sawai's shaking his head. "Not really. It comes and goes by its own. I'm guessing you were in the area when it activated." 

Makes sense. When Gojo gets his eyes back, he'll pick Sawai apart more thoroughly. At this point in time, the cause doesn't matter to him. 

"Does anyone else know what happened?" Satoru asks. 

Sawai shakes his head. Good. At least he was smart. 

"No," Sawai says, "I didn't know who to trust." 

"Good instincts." Satoru responds.

"Did you tell anyone?" Sawai asks and Satoru's offended that he had the audacity to even ask. 

"No," he says anyway. 

Sawai gives a sigh of relief. "That's good." He breathes. "My wife never knew about me, or anything about jujutsu sorcery. We met after I left the clan. Not sure how I'd even begin to explain something like this." 

That's why the name Sawai felt so familiar. A minor family, with dwindling power, up in the country. They barely touch on politics these days. No wonder he left. Especially with a technique like that. It's pretty nifty, but if Sawai couldn't control it, then there was no point in harnessing it. 

"So, how does the switching back work?" Satoru changes the subject. 

At this, Sawai wilts. 

"It's pretty simple," he starts, "we just touch. But it won't work right now. It has a downtime of 24 hours." 

A time constraint technique. Annoying. Satoru strangely isn't as upset as he knows he should be. 

"Hm, no point in doing anything, then." Satoru sighs, lounging on the couch. "So if you knew all that; then, what's the point of coming here?" 

That causes Sawai to fidget. It's aggravating to look at. Satoru's eyes twitch. He hopes Reina doesn't get that. No, she should be more like you, warm and kind with eyes that look like the night sky. 

"I missed them," Sawai finally says, "I missed my wife, my daughter." 

Sawai stares at the shelves. He's looking at pictures. Of you. Of him. Of your daughter. Smiling and happy. Sawai looks years younger in those photos, but Satoru is sure those pictures were taken not too long ago.

Just then, right on his collar, on his pale, slender neck, Satoru catches a glimpse of something. It looks like lipstick. 

Oh, Satoru realizes. That's why Sawai didn't come by sooner. 

"Uh, we met a while ago. Not sure if you remember." Sawai starts, laughing sheepishly. "I think you were about 10 when I first saw you. It was back when I was still in the clan. I was a teenager, wasn't really even sure what we were there for. But I saw you. And-and I think you saw me. I just remember seeing lines and lines of servants surrounding you. You were barely taller than my hip, but the power you had already...." He clears his throat. Satoru stays silent. 

"I was jealous. Really really jealous. Of a kid! I remember thinking 'if only if I were Gojo Satoru'. And now look." Sawai gestures to his new body. Perfect perfection. "And at first I was super excited...but then I slowly realized how lifeless the world was with these eyes." 

His cold apartment. Messages from him that he reads over and over. A family that only sees him as a status symbol. No friends. It's just him against the entire world, for the entire world. 

"Your life isn't all that great either." Sawai ends. 

It's strange. All his life, the one thing Satoru always wanted was for someone to understand him. He got close to that once, but even back then he was deluding himself. Sawai was the one man who was finally able to step into his shoes, see from his eyes. The only person in the world who could ever come close to understanding him. 

And Satoru hates him for it. 

"Yeah," he says, the truth, "it isn't." 

It's quiet for a couple more minutes. Satoru feels the time bleed into his skin. 

"Gojo." Sawai starts. Satoru hums. 

"I know you're not that kinda' guy, but..." Sawai trails off, biting his lip. "did you...with...?" 

Satoru gets what he's trying to say. He grins, feigning cheeriness, shaking his head. 

"Nah man, I wouldn't do that to you." He assures. "I didn't even touch your wife. Not my type." 

And Sawai believes him. Satoru can see it in his body language, even if his eyes are covered or not. Satoru doesn't know whether or not to laugh. 

“Thank you,” Sawai sighs, “and I—”

“We’re back!”

Both men turn. You’re shutting the door, the baby strapped to your hip, while groceries are in the other hand. Sawai freezes. Satoru rises up.

“I can take ‘em,” he offers, grabbing the bag.

You thank him, and then you glance at your real husband with a puzzled expression.

“Who’s this?” You ask. Reina giggles something.

Sawai opens his mouth.

“Hi...” The word is strangled on his throat. It sounded painful to speak.

You smile at him. Eyes warm, but there’s no recognition. You turn to Satoru.

“Who’s this, again?”

“A colleague.” Satoru is stepping in. “He was just leaving, I think, wasn’t he?”

He angles that question for Sawai. Who jumps in his seat. He babbles something, before finally settling on. “Yes—yes I was just leaving.” Even now, Sawai refuses to tell you, break you from that innocence. Satoru doesn’t know whether or not he’s stupid, naive, or both.

“Tomorrow morning.” Sawai tells him, just before he closes the door. Satoru gives a hum of acknowledgment, and the door clicks shut.

“What did he want?” You call from the kitchen, the infant tucked away on the high chair.

Satoru grins. “Just about work. Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Satoru finally brings it up after dinner. You’re folding the last towels, tucking them away in a drawer. Satoru watches you, the way your fingers work with delicate precision. Reina’s asleep, tucked away in her crib. The only people awake right now are you and him.

“Have you seen Oka around?” You ask. “I haven’t seen him since this morning.”

Satoru shrugs. “He’s probably skulking around somewhere. I wouldn’t worry about it.” He gives. You take it as an answer, going back to your task.

“Hey,” Satoru starts. “So, what’d you think of that man earlier?”

“Who?”

“Tall. White hair. Blindfold.”

“Oh.” You say, before thinking. “Nothing. But, I didn’t really expect someone like him to be your co-worker. I can’t see him doing a desk job.” Yeah, Satoru can’t either.

“Nothing else?” He prods.

You cast him an odd look. “No, not really. Why? What about him?”

The conversation is going nowhere. He gives up.

“Nothing.” Satoru finally says. You don’t accept it.

Instead, you turn around and watch him. Your eyes seem to pick up on something. A pretty smile graces your face, but Satoru feels something heavy form in his stomach.

“Oh my god. You’re jealous.” You gasp.

Satoru feels something hot build up on his face.

“No—”

“Yes you are!” You say excitedly. “It’s written all over your face! I’ve never seen you jealous before. I should take a picture.”

“That’s not it at all.” Satoru’s quick to say.

"The kid?" You laugh, bewildered. "How old is he? 25?" 

"28." Satoru can't help but correct but you just laugh louder. 

“A baby! God, you’re jealous of a baby.”

Eventually, your giggles subside. You stare at him with crinkled eyes.

“I am way too old to be messing around with 20-something year olds.” You assure, but your voice is teasing. “Besides, I’m interested in someone, right now. And I think it’s pretty serious.”

It’s a joke. You’re not talking about him. He averts his gaze anyway. You skip over, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“But that was extremely sweet.” You tell him. “You should get jealous more often.”

You did that again. Touch him. Without effort. Thoughtlessly.

Satoru doesn’t think he can hold back anymore.

This was your fault, he thinks, this was all your fault.

He grabs your waist before you can pull away. Soft, barely gives under his touch. You melt into him like butter, sinking and falling. He traces his hands up your hips, your chest, settling on the softness of your cheek. You let him, falling under his spell, the moment he touches you. He’s used to this. Eagerness, worship, but there’s something different in your eyes.

"What?" He asks. 

"Nothing," you say, "you're just....really different, today." 

He feels his heart quicken. "Don't like it?" 

You take a second, and then you close the distance. "No, I like it." 

You like it. 

You love it

You love Satoru. 

He kisses you like a hurricane.Pushing and biting, your gasps turn into hums and sighs when you follow his lead. Your hands reach up to his chest. He wraps his around your hips, making you walk back until your feet trip over the bed.

Satoru follows you down, never once pulling away.

“Oh my god.” You gasp when he sucks on your neck. “Toshi—toshi—”

It’s not him. This isn’t for him.

But it could be.

“No. “ He stops, stares into your eyes. “Sato.” He whispers . “Call me Sato.”

You stare at him, and Satoru is scared that you can actually see him. Peeling off his skin, seeing him for the sick man that he is.

“Sato...” You murmur.

He can’t stop himself. He doesn’t want to stop himself.

“Baby.” He breathes. “Fuck, baby. Need you.”

It’s easy to work off your top, throwing it somewhere in the room. He’s only caught a hint of your frilled bra before, but seeing it broadly displayed makes his mouth water. Blue. His favorite color.

It’s like you were made all for him. No one else's.

He just didn’t get to you first.

Satoru apologizes by kissing up your chest, to your neck. He marks you so its clear as day. You trill in need and excitement, hands traveling across his shoulders, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Sato.” You repeat. “God, Sato.”

“Right here.” He assures. “Right here, baby.”

When he’s done with your bra, he feasts on your newly bared skin. It’s a pretty sight. Heaving tits, going up and down right before he pounces like a feral beast. You gasp when he sucks on your nipple. He bites, before moving onto the other. Your sweat is salty-sweet. He could drink the essence of you all day.

He wants to devour you.

And the sickest thing is that you’d let him.

Sato kisses down your chest, licking at the swell of your belly, before he’s meeting your shorts. He takes them off with little flare, close to ripping them off being he’s starving and you’ve been teasing him all day. That shake of your hips every time you’re meandering in the kitchen. You must have known what you’re doing to him. You wouldn’t be smiling so widely if you didn’t.

He licks you through your panties. You’re already wet.

“This all for me?” He knowingly asks, glancing up at you.

He expects you to shyly look away. Instead, you roll your hips into his mouth.

“All for you.” You coo. “Only for you, Sato.”

You have no idea what your words just did to him.

He finds it hotter keeping your panties on, so he leaves them, only pushing the crotch area to the side so he can get a better access to your pussy.

He isn’t shy. He’s more than happy to make himself known. You’re practically gushing all around him when he latches on your clit, swirling it around his tongue. You let out this sound he hasn't heard ever, sending it straight through his cock.

“Sato, fuck.” You grab his hair, pulling him even closer. “So so good, Sato.”

He licks up to the length of your pussy, letting your strength guide him along. A dark thought pushes its way into his brain. It quickly disappears in favor of your taste on his tongue. He’s drinking it like a man parched, trapped in the dessert, and you’re his salvation.

Your hips jerk, he stills your hips.

“Easy baby,” he says, voice muffled by your cunt, “I got you.”

“Sato,” you urge. “I cant’—I can’t. Please please please.”

“Wanna cum?” He asks, feeling a little malicious. “Wanna cum for me, pretty girl?”

You nod, and then you sob. His smile is evil.

“Beg for it.”

And you do. Your sweet sweet voice growing up in octaves when he obediently ramps it up until he’s tongue-fucking your hole. Your legs wrap around his neck, and Satoru thinks he’d happily die if it meant his last moments being this.

Eventually, you stiffen up, and then you sieze all over his tongue. Satoru gently takes you through your orgasm, watching when you fall back on the bed. You look at him, out of breath.

“Fuck,” you say, “where’d you learn to do that?”

He laughs, before climbing up your body to kiss your again. It’s slow, sensual, your tongues melting together as you taste what he’s been tasting for minutes. He hopes you think it tastes sweet too.

And because he can’t wait any longer, he’s pulling away to shuck off his pants. You giggle. He casts you a glance, but Satoru can’t find it in his heart to be upset.

Pushing down his boxers, he frowns.

It’s...disappointing, if he wants to say it lightly. Way smaller than his. What the fuck has Sawai been doing with you? No wonder you’re already so out of it.

It’ll have to do. Mainly because he’s so horny and he’d die if he isn’t inside of you at this very moment. And you’re sweet enough to help him, taking your legs apart, inviting him with knowing eyes.

“Ready baby?” He asks.

You nod, it’s all he can dream for.

He’s pushing himself in. You gasp, and he can feel everything. His sensitive cock jumps at your heat, the tight walls of your cunt practically bare down on him. He knows it’ll be next to impossible to fit his own dick.

He won’t stop though, not until he’s in all the way.

That’s the thought that gets him going. Rocking his hips back and forth. You’re edging him on with your ohs and Sato sato sato. Needy, needing him. A service he’s more than happy to provide.

“Breathe, pretty girl.” He tells you. “Almost there. We’re almost there.”

You whine in his ear, already impatient. God, he wants you. He wants this.

And he knows he can do better than him.

“Fuck baby, how bad is he that you turn so pretty in my hands, hm?” He asks. He isn’t looking for an answer. You’re barely paying attention to his words, eyes rolled back, close to tears. Just to torture you even more, he circles your clit with his thumb.

“Look at you. Bet he couldn’t do a goddamn thing with this limpdick, huh? Had—had to literally step aside, let a real man do the fucking.” He hisses, and you moan something he can’t decipher.

“Can’t blame ya’. This’s probably the first real fuck you’ve gotten in a while hm? Fuck—what would ya’ act like with some real dick?”

Satoru can imagine it. Him and you, nestled between his silk bedsheets. Him, bigger, stronger, pinning you down like he know you want to be. He won’t stop. He won’t ever stop. He’ll just keep fucking you and fucking you as you say Sato Sato Sato Sato—

When you cum for the second time, Satoru’s close behind. He collapses into you, feeling himself fill you up just like he should. You bite his earlob. He purrs in contentment.

But when he feels you still, he’s quick to rise back up, shaking you until you’re blinking at him.

“No baby.” He kindly says, feeling himself harden all over again. “We aren’t done yet.”

He wasn’t able to admire it the first time, but the second time around, he finally notices how pretty you are asleep.

Even when you’re sleeping, there’s a faint smile on your face. Your hair frames your face like a halo. Satoru isn’t religious, but he thinks its akin to watching an angel.

He’s watched you for hours now. He barely slept. Time was slowly running out.

And now, the sun’s starting to come out.

You’re so pretty. He doesn’t want to leave. Its almost torture to pull himself up, kiss you on the cheek, before tucking you properly in bed. You stir, but you don't wake. That’s relieving for Satoru. He doesn’t know if he has the strength to hold himself back.

This was nice. You were...nice.

But he had to be Gojo again.

The world can’t function without him. Jujutsu society would crumble. Curses would run rampant. He can’t risk it. His students, you, Reina, might get stuck in that.

For the sake of everyone, he closes the bedroom door behind him.

The prettiest girl in the world is sleeping too. Reina snored. Satoru almost laughed, but he held himself back. He didn’t want to wake her. After all, her mom had a long night.

As gently as he can, he tucks a tuft of hair behind Reina’s ear. She gurgles something, smacking her lips, and then stills again.

She looks nothing like Satoshi. Instead of being given his straggly straight hair, she was blessed with your curly locks. Her skin is deep and dark, matching yours perfectly. If her eyes were open, Satoru would see yours, warm and kind. You two even laughed the same.

Damn, even Sawai’s genes got cucked.

Satoru pats her cheek, and he promises himself to stop lingering. Even then, when he passes by one of Reina’s toys, he makes sure to pick it up, feeling the weight in his hands, before reluctantly placing it on a shelf. When he comes across your unwashed mug, he takes his time to put it in the sink.

He’s biding his time, even when he knows he can’t. He needs to be Gojo, not Satoru. He can’t be both.

....Why can’t he be both? The question stops him in his tracks.

What's stopping him from the best of both worlds? Why can't he have his cake and eat it too? What's stopping him from having this quiet in his life?

Himself. No one else is stopping him, but himself.

He isn’t Satoru. He isn’t Gojo either. He’s Gojo Satoru. The strongest. Who could fucking tell him no?

No one would dare make a fuss if he were to bring a foreigner non-sorcerer as his wife. No one would blink an eye if he adopted Reina. No one could. He’s pinnacles above humanity. He is the pinnacle of humanity.

He could have it all. Dominating jujutsu society, building up his students, you, your daughter. He could have everything he wants. It would be hard, but when has life ever made anything easy for him?

He’s sacrificed so much. He’s lost so much. He needs you. He deserves this. And he already knows he can make you happy.

If you’re lonely, he’ll make sure that his clan welcomes you with open arms. You’ll be treated like a princess. Reina would never want for nothing. He’d make sure she doesn’t even remember her biological father.

And Sawai...

Satoru can’t understand why a weapon like him is allowed to roam free. His technique is weak, but powerful, dangerous. He incapacitated one of the deadliest forces alive. With his technique, with how little control he has over it.

Others have been executed for less. Satoru will make sure of it.

Is it a bit over the top? Maybe. He knows Sawai’s enough of a mouse that he’ll just accept it if Satoru walks up to the bastard and tells him he’s taking his family. If he’s being honest, he isn’t all that mad about the body snatching thing, either. In any other case, he might even find it funny.

But he still remembers the marks on Sawai’s collar. He’d used Gojo Satoru’s looks to get cheap pussy, before deciding that he wanted to crawl back home to you.

Pathetic.

He shouldn’t even be allowed to exist on the same planet as you. Satoru won’t allow it.

And when he's dead, Satoru would be more than happy to play his part as a the acquaintance who just wanted to check up on you. Obliviously bring you closer and closer and closer until you're back in his arms.

Satoru can still taste you in his mouth. It'd be hard to wait for that again after having you, but you're someone worth being patient for.

He’s almost elated when Sawai shows up at the time they scheduled. He looks worse for wear, the stress of being Gojo is getting to him. Good. Someone like him should see what real problems are.

Sawai tries to exchange pleasentries. Satoru refuses to hear it. He stretches his hand out. Sawai does the same. Satoru closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, a short man with a balding head blinks timidly back up at him.

He’s back.

With his Six eyes, he can see you’re still sleeping. He makes sure to memorize the sight for his entire life.

“So, enjoyed being Gojo for a day?” He asks, if only to keep up the facade he doesn’t find the man absolutely pathetic.

A shy smile appears on Sawai’s face. He shakes his head.

“I guess my lesson is that I shouldn’t be too quick to judge.” He laughs. “We all have our own problems.”

“Right.” Satoru says, “Well, this was interesting. Take care of yourself, okay?” He waves, gallantly striding towards the door until he can’t hold himself anymore.

He sighs, tilting his head back dramatically.

“Y’know what man. I lied.” Satoru grins.

“I did fuck your wife.”

The last thing he sees before he slams the door shut, is Sawai’s baffled expression.

Gojo hadn’t expected to feel so satisfied, watching Sawai take his place at your husband, but he isn’t angry about it. Satoru stretches on the patio. It’s a pretty day outside. People are out and about. Birds are chirping.

Gojo catches a glimpse of a bushy tail before he’s reaching down to grab Oka by the scruff.

As expected, the bastard of a cat yowls, trying to claw at him. Oka recognizes him, a smart cat. Satoru smiles, unfazed. Infinity is back.

“Listen.” He tells the cat. "I'm gonna be your new daddy soon. So unless you wanna end up in the pound, you better warm up to me." 

Oka hisses, but he doesn’t struggle anymore. Satoru gracelessly drops him back on the ground. Oka scampers out of sight.

Sawai clearly used Gojo’s usual chaffuer to get here. It saves Satoru from making the call himself. He opens the car door, before plopping in the back seat.

At the wheel, Ijichi gives him a look.

“Did you find everything, okay? You were only in there for a short while.”

Sawai had kept true to his word. Not even Ijichi knew about the switch. That’s a bit unfortunate. Maybe if more people knew about his technique, what he could do, it might save his life.

Sawai needed to stop being so naive. Satoru was more than happy to teach that lesson permanently.

“Yup!” Gojo Satoru chirped. “Got everything I needed.”

[imlovewithpixels]

I FINALLY SAW DUNMENSHI ANIME, I'M GONNA WRITE MY OWN IDEA, N MATTER HOW CRINGY IT LOOK.....(i don't write in english or smut....*cries*)

SOMEONONE FROM DUNMENSHI FANDOM ACCEPT MY SMUT REQUEST!

Idk where to look at or ask cause I have not look into smut writers for dungeon menshi but PLEASE. the whole party x SUCUBUSS! Reader. Like...they feed from lust and Laois found her and since her charm habilities are op, drag them with the party and kinda become their own glory hole . Maybe they started taking turn to "feed" her and they were reluctang (porbably Marcille hate the idea) but finally,e everyone ended atracted to reader. Having sex could also cure their phisical state so yeah. If it have some yandere things arounf there, PLEASE....I'll probably be in everyone Aks looking for this one-shot . jeje. Still, I leave the idea, please someone tag me if they like it

[imlovewithpixels]

SOMEONONE FROM DUNMENSHI FANDOM ACCEPT MY SMUT REQUEST!

Idk where to look at or ask cause I have not look into smut writers for dungeon menshi but PLEASE. the whole party x SUCUBUSS! Reader. Like...they feed from lust and Laois found her and since her charm habilities are op, drag them with the party and kinda become their own glory hole . Maybe they started taking turn to "feed" her and they were reluctang (porbably Marcille hate the idea) but finally,e everyone ended atracted to reader. Having sex could also cure their phisical state so yeah. If it have some yandere things arounf there, PLEASE....I'll probably be in everyone Aks looking for this one-shot . jeje. Still, I leave the idea, please someone tag me if they like it

[imlovewithpixels]

HAZBIN HOTEL / HELLUVA BOSS X READER

¡Buenas! Voy a estar escribiendo shots X lector. Acepto sugerencias para obtener inspo!!

Normalmente escribo en español pero puedo incluir traducciones al inglés (If you configure the option to translate pages that are not in English in Google, you can directly translate the fics even if they are in Spanish, so don't refrain from suggesting even if you communicate in English!!!)

Intentaré publicar los shots en español e inglés si veo que hay lectores de ambas lenguas y se les dificulta la traducción.

I'll try and post the fics in both Spanish and English if I see that there is a mix of people reading and you cannot translate it for whatever reason

VOY A ESCRIBIR// I'LL BE WRITING

Blitzø X reader (mostly right now)

Alastor X reader

Vox X reader

Lucifer X reader

DO YOUR SUGGESTIONS!! PROPONGAN SUS IDEAS!!

[imlovewithpixels]

consider being sandwiched by two big ole dilfs who r both madly in love w u

the predicament was strange, to say the least. one minute, you’re entering headquarters after a long mission. the next, you’re inside the break room, your back against peter while miguel bullied his way into your pussy. one could wonder why the leader of the spiders was whispering obscenities in your ear, but you knew you only had yourself to blame for this.

"that all you can take?" the taunting voice of none other than miguel calls out to you, giving a sharp slap to your clit as you bit your lip. your mind is numb when he pushes into you again, his cock stretching you out just right. a sharp inhale comes from miguel before he lets out a small laugh.

"this isn't even half of it. i'm a little disappointed in you. thought you could take all of me, mama". miguel clicks his tongue, taking one handful of your love handles in his hand.

you whine, so prettily, if miguel could put his two cents. of course you could take it! who the hell did miguel think he was? you could take it all— at least you hoped so. the way things were going, however, with miguel making a slight bulge in your stomach, you weren't so sure anymore.

"y'know, i could've been nicer than this", he mutters in your ear, "i mean— i would've liked to be nicer than this. hate bein' the bad guy, you know that". miguel sighed as if you were inconveniencing him and shoved his full length into your cunt. a loud cry escapes your mouth when you feel his tip kissing your cervix, your pussy clenching hard around the man.

miguel groaned at the sensation, his teeth practically bared at you as he moved. "you're just a huge piece of work, aren't you, mama? never listen ta' what i say". miguel's tongue ran over his canine as he looked down on you. his eyes shined with amusement as he watched a milky white ring form at the base of his cock. "oh, baby".

you bit your lip hard, plushy hands reaching up to push at miguel's chest. "wait— pleasepleaseplease, shit! hold on!" you plea to him, feeling the overstimulation spread like a virus throughout your body. your cunt was pulsing hard, almost matching the pace of your racing heartbeat.

instead of taking pity, or even considering your plea, miguel laughs. he laughs and he squeezes the handful of your chub in his hand. just when you think he's trying to comfort you, he uses your love handles as leverage to drag you down deeper on his cock.

"shit, there we go", miguel's hand reaches up to your cheek, "can't enough of this pussy. feels s' fuckin' good, mama". he squeezed your side, his rough hand contrasting with your soft skin. miguel bit his lip in an attempt to keep the loud groans forming in his throat from coming out.

he was so mean to you, miguel. so rough, so animalistic, but in his own little way, he was still so gentle with you. the gentleness was always outweighed by the rough, man-handling, but you didn't mind. you loved that about miguel.

tears were welling up in your eyes now. you try again, to push away miguel just a bit. even in his dazed pleasure, miguel sensed your hand coming, and let go of your chub. he instead took your wrist, stopping you from pushing him away. his eyes caught yours, and gosh, you could almost moan just at how good he looked.

"trynna run away from me?" he questions you. though he already knows the answer, you humor him and rapidly shake your head, small little 'no's!' escaping your mouth along with the action. miguel smirks and gives your pussy harsh thrusts.

"awe, i was hoping you weren't". he taunted you, grinding his pelvis into yours as he lifted you up slightly by your wrist, pressing his lips into your ear. "you're a good girl f'me, yeah? always takin' what i give you?" miguel presses a small kiss to the side of your head, making your heart swell.

the heartwarming feeling quickly dies when you feel him smirk against your cheek. "not like ya' have a choice, huh? gotta take what i give you anyway since you were bein' a brat earlier".

"awe, now that isn't nice, miguel". a coo from your saving grace came from behind you. a comforting hand tilted your head to the side so you could properly make eye contact with peter. he had a warm smile on his face and his eyes were so tender.

"hey, sweetheart. feelin' good?" he questioned you, his tone greatly contrasting miguel's overall roughness. you gave him a broken, tearful smile, nodding to his words.

peter frowned and looked over at miguel with distaste. "miguel", peter hissed in an irritated tone, "look at what you did. made my girl cry". peter's brows furrowed and his eyes flickered from miguel to you. miguel gave him an exaggerated eye roll, which peter ignored. peter sighs and brushes the messy stray hairs away from your face and leans to kiss you softly.

he hums in contentment, and for a moment, you almost completely forget that miguel is there, abusing your poor cunny. in that moment, it was just you and peter sharing a sweet, passionate kiss.

when he pulls away, peter is all smiles. well, when is he not? but this smile was a bit bigger than all his usual ones. "think you've learned your lesson, yeah? no more putting yourself in danger 'n' all that?" peter speaks to you so casually as if he wasn't reaching up to fondle your tits.

gosh, you thought. you'd almost completely forgotten the reason why you were in this situation in the first place. all because you made one slightly stupid to chase after an anomaly on your own. you'd think with the rough treatment miguel gave you, you'd broken canon.

he's so dramatic.

you let out a relaxed sigh and leaned into peter, giving him an assuring nod. peter grinned wider, if that was even possible, and shifted upwards to get miguel's attention.

"hey man, when you're done bein' an aggressive wildebeest, switch with me". peter calls out to the other man. miguel blinks, the trance of being so deep in your pussy breaking. his brows furrow and he clenches his teeth as he looks up at peter.

"wildebeest? really?" miguel questions the other man's audacity. peter ignored the glare miguel was giving him and moved, gently laying you down on the pillow that was always paired with the break room couch.

peter stood up, unbuckling his belt as he shoved miguel's shoulder. miguel removed his hand from your neck to slap peter on his own shoulder, but peter skillfully dodged it. "move", peter pressured, "it's my turn. look at my poor girl, you've been too rough with her".

"your poor girl?" miguel scoffs. peter rolls his eyes. "yes, mine. now move".

you gasped at the loss of contact with miguel, your heartbeat picking up. through your hooded eyes, you see miguel get lightly shoved by peter away from you, and you let out a small giggle.

the noise of your happiness catches peter’s attention and makes him smile. he undoes the buckle on his belt and sighs in contentment when his erection is finally freed from the confines of those painfully uncomfortable boxers of his. peter, the big dork, hums while he aligns his cock to your hole.

you think he'll go easy on you, that he'll be gentle like he always is. the way he caressed your body, his hands gently gliding up and down lured you into a false sense of hope that he'd give you his dick inch by inch, like he always did. because peter, your peter, is a sweetheart.

but your peter is always unpredictable.

peter slams his hips forward. in one hard and swift motion, your cunt is stretched open and pulsing on peter's cock. peter groans loud and broken, his fingers digging into your sides. "shit". he speaks low and dark, and you're sure he's gone now.

his free hand trails down to your pussy and he toys with the cute little bundle of nerves with a shit-eating grin on his face. "look at you", he coos, "such a cute pussy. all for me, right?" peter runs a soft finger over your clit.

with miguel, you know what you're getting into. one look at him and you know you'll get the roughest dick appointment of your life. but with peter, you could never tell. one day, he could make the most passionate, gentle love with you as if you were the most fragile being in the world, but the next day he could—

"my princess is so beautiful, isn't she? god, she is". peter moans, more to your pussy than to you. his cock is going agonizingly slow while his work on your clit was picking up. the sensation from both was too much for your head.

he could be the biggest, rudest, hottest tease in the whole damn multiverse.

"peter", you cried, "please, s-stop teasing". you stammered pathetically. "need you, need your cock so bad". you cry. peter tilts his head, feigning innocence as if he wasn't deep in your stomach. "what do ya' mean, honey? 'm already inside, aren't i?"

"no!" you huff, your reaction surprising peter. your hands wiped away the tears in your pretty eyes and peter swears he feels his cock getting harder inside of you as you look up at him like that. all teary-eyed and desperate. he knows what you want, and wants to give it to you, but he needs to hear you say it.

"no?" peter parrots. "no? what, you want me to pull out?" he asks you in that sickeningly annoying tone of his. you shake your head, a miserable sob racking through your chest. you know he can feel it— the hot juices that ran down your thighs. you know what game he's playing too, and while you would usually push back, you were too desperate.

"please, peter, baby, please". you moaned, shuffling around to push your own hips down on his cock. you looked up at him through your lashes, your pretty eyes still welling with tears. a small wave of pleasure ran through you as you felt peter's thick cock stretch you out just a bit more, causing you to bite your lip.

oh.

it was like a switch flipped in peter. suddenly his hips were moving, faster than they were before. no prep pace before, just fast and focused fucking on peter's part. your cunt feels much hotter and silkier than it did before, and peter hopes you'll forgive him for being so embarrassing.

pat-pat-pat— the sound is loud in your ears. your moans grow louder and louder, your pussy fluttering so tightly around peter. "peter!" you sob, your hand clutching peter's bicep. "g-gonna cum!"

peter hears you and decides to put an end to all the torture you had to endure throughout the night. he nods to your words, in a daze as he chases his own orgasm. "i hear ya', honey". he mutters to you, a broken smile on his face. "g'nna give it to you, just— hold on, yeah?"

peter's cock rubs every inch of the silky walls inside of you, and your body burns. it all happens so quickly, a grip on your side here, a harsh thrust inside you there, and you're exploding.

you cry peter's name, holding a tight grip on miguel's hand, who had offered it to you in your daze. peter lets out a low groan as he finally cums alongside you, the feeling of your cunt spasming around him and the sight of your juices trailing down your thighs making him moan out.

as the high wears out, peter slips out of you very carefully. he helps hoist you up against miguel's chest with a smile. he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips, which you gratefully return.

"did so well, honey. always so good to us". peter praises you and feels his heart warm as you smile. you miss the way peter punches miguel in the arm, gesturing to you with a nod. you also miss the way peter cringes at the way miguel gets embarrassed when he rubs your arm up and down.

"you... did great. we'll take you home now. i hope you learned your lesson".

HELLO MY BABIES <333 i am so so soooooo srry 4 the inactivity, but im back now and i plan 2 deliver!! i hope u all enjoyed this lil drabble thingie!!

[imlovewithpixels]

Chapter one ; Chapter two ; Chapter three ; Chapter four ; Chapter five ; Chapter six ; Chapter seven ; Chapter eight ; Chapter nine ; Chapter ten ; Chapter eleven ; Chapter twelve ; Chapter thirteen ; Chapter fourteen ; Chapter fifteen

[imlovewithpixels]

Childhood Sweethearts is SO CUTE! I mean seriously so adorable! And that last scene with Gwen freaking out! I LOVE GWEN SO MUCH! WE ARE A GIRLS’ GIRL HERE AND IM LIVING FOR IT! I’m sorry for 1610 Miles but Gwen has robbed my heart and soul already!!

This is so good I can’t wait for the next part! ❤️❤️❤️

Not me trying to decide if I make my Gwen exclusive oneshot first, of the second little part of Childhoood crush were I have this Gwen x reader scene again. I'm sorry Miles.

Thanks for the comment , anon <3

[imlovewithpixels]

Resending my cheerleader request (hopefully the window is still open)

Anyway, Magnolia and reader get assigned to a group project for class. Slowly, the group is whittled down from 4 to 2, leaving darling to come over and work on the project alone with the cheerleader (and maybe something else 😏)

˗ˏ✎ [ dirty thoughts ] *ೃ

"i get dirty thoughts about you, they get worse when i'm without you– does that mean that i'm going to hell? or are you feeling them as well?"

fem!reader x fem!yandere ; semi continuation of canon events.

contents: flirting, dirty talk, praise, under negotiated kink, exhibitionism, discreet play, fingering, oral, use of petnames like 'pretty girl' and 'baby' for reader

"yeah, see you later!" magnolia grinned as she waved her perfectly manicured fingers almost elegantly at one of your last two study partners, looking away as the apartment door and back down at her notebook as the person disappeared. she picked up her pen again, and continued writing.

the group had started out larger– only four of you were in the same project group, but work got done much faster when you were just around other people who were also working. the whole group study session was maggie's idea– of course, because she was incredibly social and worked well with people. everyone was invited to her gorgeous apartment, scattered around the dining room and even up on the breakfast bar.

it wasn't necessarily your scene, as a pretty unpopular, asocial person... but you were in maggie's group, and she had begged you to come. you could never say no to her, not with that pink pout. besides, you had been spending a lot of time with her lately. both around other people and... alone.

a few people had already left after a couple of hours, wittling the numbers down to just you, magnolia, and one other person in your group. they were quite invested in the work they were doing, apparently very serious about doing their share of the project quickly.

you, however, had not gotten much studying done, thanks specifically to the beautiful cheerleader sitting directly next to you. not when she had spent the better part of the last hour and a half writing down notes with her right hand, and stroking you through your panties with her left hand.

it had started with just her hand on your thigh, shocking you. but you liked it– you liked when she touched you– so you welcomed it. when her fingers started sliding higher up towards the hem of your skirt, the cute blue skirt she had told you to borrow from her closet, you began to sweat. she was incredibly nonchalant about it, like she didn't have a care in the world except writing down her notes in her perfect handwriting. you think she might have smirked a little bit when you shifted in your chair that first time, but it was so quick, you couldn't have been sure.

only once she was sure you were used to her fingers resting so gently on the inside of your thigh, inches away from the soft cotton of your panties, did she move up further.

and now, you were hopelessly soaked. you had been for the last forty five minutes at least; you were glad for the lofi music magnolia had insisted on playing through a portable speaker, or you were sure that any of the other people just across the table from you could have heard you.

the whole time, you had been forced to conceal any tiny whimpers or sounds you wanted to make, either coughing and clearing your throat or biting your lip and praying she would have a little mercy on you. she rarely did.

your curled forward a bit more, leaning over your own notebook as your breath hitched silently in your throat. over the course of the last hour and a half, she had slowly pushed your legs apart far enough to give her almost unrestricted access to you, and she was taking advantage of it wholeheartedly. she idly stroked your clit through the cotton of your panties, wet from your own arousal and sticking to your skin.

you were so sensitive; the endless teasing was just enough to keep your head fuzzy, your thoughts hazy, but not enough to get you anywhere. each little stroke across that sensitive part of you sent tiny electric zings into the pit of your stomach.

magnolia simply hummed along to the melody playing from her playlist, until she looked across the table at the last study partner.

"did the professor say that, for section b, he wanted all of us to write our own report? or just one report for the whole group?" she asked, voice completely neutral and innocent. she circled your clit with her middle finger, pressing harder into your soft flesh. your legs tensed up.

"umm, i'm not sure," your third partner, an arts major named annie, replied as she looked up at maggie, stalling in her writing. "y/n was the one who talked to him about it."

"oh, right! my bad," maggie turned to you instead, and you could feel both sets of eyes on you as you lifted your head. "you probably told us earlier right? i just can't remember."

"it's fine," you breathed, forcing a smile and praying annie didn't find the flush on your face especially odd. "he told me that he would prefer all of us to write separate reports–"

magnolia strummed her finger quickly across your clit a few times in quick succession, sending your train of thought haywire.

you cleared your throat and continued, just quick enough to be below suspicion- but that didn't mean she stopped. if anything, she was really doubling down, using all the movements and techniques she had learned your responded to the most, rubbing your clit in quick, tight circles. "but that if we put multiple sections into the same report, that would be acceptable."

you nearly stuttered on the last few words. you weren't going to be able to keep quiet much longer and you knew it; not with the way maggie was playing with you, not after all that build up.

"oh, cool," annie said. "that might be easier. we'll have to figure that out next time tyler's around." she waved her hand dismissively at the mention of the fourth group member. she picked up her phone, now that she was jarred out of work mode. "oh, damn, its already past 6?"

"is it?" maggie asked, reaching for her phone as well. her fingers only slowed marginally as she split her attention between two things, but it wasn't enough to give you much of a break. you were feeling entirely too hot, and you gripped your pencil desperately.

"yeah," annie nodded her head, setting her phone down and beginning to gather her things. "i didn't even realize– but i have a late dance practice at seven, so i gotta run."

"no worries!" maggie smiled at her. "i'll text you soon so we can all meet up again!"

"for sure!" annie agreed as she stood up.

you set your pencil down, eager for annie to leave so you could drop this charade. whimpers and moans were building up in the back of your throat as she pressed her fingers against your clit, a momentary break before she started the agonizing back and forth strokes again, your every thought consumed with magnolia and the way she was teasing you, breaking you down.

annie slipped her belongings into her bag and stood up from the dining table, waving at both you and magnolia as she saw herself out. "see you guys in class!" she called as she disappeared into the foyer, and then out the front door.

with everyone else gone, maggie's attention was finally, mercifully, solely on you. she turned to you, praise falling out of her mouth as soon as the door clicked shut.

"you stayed so quiet!" she praised, dropping her pen and reaching over to you with her second hand. "you did so good, pretty girl, taking all that so well."

"maggie, please," you whined as she pulled your thighs even further apart, pulling the leg closest to her up and over across her lap, forcing you to brace yourself against the seat of the chair. as she did, she finally slipped her fingers inside your panties. the initial touch of her fingers against your bare cunt sent a shock through you, but it was swallowed up by a singing pleasure as she continued to work your clit, now without a barrier of fabric in the way.

"i know, baby," she cooed, so happy to see you so completely at her mercy– so needy and desperate. "you must want to cum so bad, hmm?"

you nodded your head, whimpering and biting your lip, sucking in a ragged breath as she slipped her fingers down and pressed them against your entrance, circling around it playfully. you clenched up, eager for something to be inside you.

"i just couldn't help myself when i saw you in my skirt," she explained dreamily, before she began to gently work one of her fingers inside you. your mouth fell open at the slow stretch, greedily pushing your hips into her hand. "you're so wet, baby. we should do this more often."

she giggled as you moaned, and then she slowly pumped her finger in and out of you. you were beginning to feel a pleasant, warm buzz, just out of reach.

"i can't get enough of the look on your face," she muttered, "but..."

before you could register it in order to grab her hand and stop her, maggie pulled her finger out of you, and then pulled her hand out of your panties completely. you whined, eyes on her, and then watched as she lifted her hand to her mouth and closed her lips around her finger. she licked it clean, grinning at you.

"i've been dying to get a taste of you all night, baby. come on," she slid her leg off her lap and scooted her chair back. "get up on the table for me."

dazed, you didn't have it in you to argue. instead, you pushed yourself up on shaky legs and climbed onto the table, sitting on the edge in front of her. she pulled her hair closer, situating herself between your tights, and pushed her hand against your stomach.

"lay back and lift your hips so i can take these off, pretty girl," she purred, hooking her fingers around the waistband of your panties. again, you did as you were told; you leaned back on your elbows and braced your feet against the table, lifting your hips for her to pull your panties down, and then lowering again so she could pull them all the way off your legs.

as soon as they were off, her hands returned to the space between your thighs, sliding her fingers through your slick, sensitive folds. you groaned at the contact, your legs falling open as wide as you could get them.

"thats a good girl," she muttered, before she leaned in and licked a long stripe up your pussy. she wasted no time on the warm up– you had already had enough of that. she used her fingers to spread you apart, holding you open as she swirled her tongue around your throbbing clit.

"f-fuck–" you stuttered, a jolt of electricity making your hips stutter. maggie hummed in satisfaction between your legs, which sent you moaning. you let your head fall back, clenching your hands into fists. all your weight on your elbows would have normally been uncomfortable, but you couldn't pay attention to that.

with her other hand, she slipped one, then two fingers back inside you. she pushed then in slowly, allowing you to feel every inch of the stretch, before she began to fuck you with her fingers. at the same time, she licked and sucked at your clit, her own moans providing extra stimulation.

you squeezed your eyes shut. you were already so close. "maggie, maggie– fuck–!"

she curled her fingers upwards and she pushed them in as far as she could go, searching for your g-spot. she pulled her mouth off you, looking up at your pleasure-addled face.

"go ahead and cum for me, baby," she soothed, "you've been so good, waited so long."

she replaced her mouth, continuing her onslaught, just as her fingers found the bundle of nerves inside you. your toes curled, and you gasped, pressing your hands down against the table. sparks raced up your spine, trailing threads of heat throughout your entire body.

your head tipped back again, your mouth hanging open as waves of pleasure rolled over you– and then, as your thighs trembled and you began to clench around her fingers, you chanted her name over and over. the coil in your stomach snapped, your hips shook, and you came on her fingers.

you collapsed backwards onto the table as she swirled her tongue around your clit, licking you through possibly the most intense orgasm of your life. she scissored her fingers and pressed up against your g-spot to draw out the delicious, agonizing pleasure, until you were keening and trying to scoot away from her and her devious mouth.

finally, she released you, letting you lay with your legs spread open, trying desperately to catch your breath.

"fuck, are you a beautiful sight like this," she sighed as she stood up, running her nails up the inside of your thighs as she took you in. you opened your eyes to look back down at her, breathing labored, and she smiled with more love than you could fathom in this state.

"i think i'm going to need to hear you scream like that a few more times before i'm satisfied."

[imlovewithpixels]

Spiderverse Masterlist

Request open (probably latina! reader)

Miles Morales

Childhood Sweetheart

Miles Morales (Earth- 42)

Childhood Sweetheart

Arañita (Coming soon)

Gwen Stacy

Crushing on you (coming soon)

Miguel O'hara

Cortejo (Coming soon)

Peter B Parker

Babysitter (coming soon)

Hobbie Brown

Intruder (coming soon)

Patvir

[imlovewithpixels]

"Childhood Sweethearts"

-Miles Morales/ 42!Miles x Fem!Reader

Y/N had a crush on Miles since always, and something inside her tell her that they were meant to be together. She just knew

(( Remember that my request are OPEN - Spanish or English, please ASK ME ANYTHING, tALK TO ME AND LEAVE A COMENT IF YOU LIKE UU))

Also, If you like my work, check out my FANDOM Masterlist. <3 - More Spiderverse work on the way.

 My first language is not English, so I apologize for any grammatical error.

...

— Nana, quiero volver a casa.— The little girl grips her grandma, her eyes tearing as she walks next to her with her big pink backpack. 

— Mi niña , esta es tu casa ahora, ¿si? Tus papis hicieron un gran esfuerzo en traerte aca.— The old woman whispers, carefully picking her word as she looks at the little girl. She guided Y/n through the stair until the third food when her house was as she made way for her to enter. 

— No me gusta aca, todos hablan raro…— Y/n said pouting, her little hand gripping her shirt. 

— Te acostumbraras , nena. — Those words stuck in her mind as the girl tried to adjust to her first week in New York, which was horrible. Most of the kids laugh at her for her accent or ignorance of English, she only could be comfortable next to her grandma and misses the rest of her family every day, almost crying to sleep. — Doña Carmen, here I have some of your pills.— A pretty woman enters the house as Y/n hides, listening to the weird words that came from her mouth. Rio noticed her as she smiled. 

— Hi, baby. Is she your grandchild? What's your name, bonita?— The woman talk to her, Y/n catch the little accent, but she was unsure. 

— Tu nombre mija. — Her grandma explained to her. — Sorry, she does not catch el English yet, se acostumbrara…espero. — 

— Ay, mi vida, perdon ¿ Asi que hablas español? —

— Si señora…— Y/n was happier to speak spanish. 

— Tonces traere a mi hijo pa’ que juegue contigo, se llevaran bien. — At that moment, Y/n eventually became friends with Miles, almost clingy with the sweet little boy that he was. They draw together, she helps him in his first stages with graffiti, and she also gets used to living around New York and speaking English. But of course, everything is not always fine. Y/n has this gigantic crush on Miles, she was the only girl around him and was kind and flirty with him while they grow up, it was almost obvious to everyone that they would end up together. 

Even his uncle Aaron approved of their future relationship. And then, Miles enters his stupid private school and leaves her behind

...

…

— I can’t believe this shit, esta hablando con esa gringa.— Y/n complains to her friend. She had been expecting this party for a long time, she hadn't seen Miles in a while, and she wanted to spend some time with him again. 

Was she clingy? Maybe, but she was always there for him. When his uncle dies, on his birthday when she bought him an exclusive collection figure and always tries to make sure that he was ok. But, that stupid boy lied to her face, he was hiding something, of her, of her mom and dad. 

He always disappeared out of nowhere. 

La señora Rio even thought for a moment that he was on drugs, but Miles was not that type of guy. She knew that he would be late with the cake, so she bring one of her own, just in case. 

She tried to be at his side, not only because of her crush on the boy but because they were friends. Or at least, that is what she thought. 

— Y/n, relax girl. That blondie has nothing compared to you. — Her friend said, smiling comforting. Oh yeah, and now, that Gwanda came out of nothing, from who knows what part of Africa to be with him. 

Both girls saw how Ms. Morales and his husband started talking to Gwanda. Y/n keep giving her a sour look until Rio looks at her and calls her. 

— Show her who would be a Morales! — Her friend pushes him to the little balcony. Y/n put on her best smile, even if she already say hi to the couple, and then she turned with her most cute face to Miles. — Miles, no te he visto en varias semanas, how are you doing? — She throw herself to hug the boy, god l, he was so tall now. Her cheeks were a little red as she kiss Miles’s cheeks. She could feel the blond’s eyes on her, but she didn’t mind. 

— Yea, Ms. Morales, ¿que pasa? — She said, ignoring Gwanda.

— Nothing, mija, Y/n dear, I just wonder that you didn’t greet my Miles.— She said winking to Y/N. — And his amiguita. — Her tone became a little challenging. — Mama! — Miles groans embarrassed. 

— Oh yeah, Gwinda, right?  — Y/n put a superior smile as she also walks to kiss Gwanda’s cheek, her tone a little sarcastic. — A pleasure to meet you. —

The blonde stood there, she was taken aback. 

— G-Gwen… I mean, Gwanda. It’s a pleasure too…— 

— Y/n. — 

— Y/n , yeah! Is good to see another friend of Miles. — Her tone was genuine, Y/N knew it, but it still hurt. 

— Yeah, I know him since we were chamacos. Right, Miles? — She turned immediately back to the boy. He was embarrassed, but Y/N couldn't say if it was because of the situation or because he felt ashamed to be around that gringa.  — Y-Yeah, Y/n is a good friend of mine. — He said, smiling at her sweet as honey.

It was not until Gwen left nervous that Y/N notice how Miles’ smile faded slowly, looking at the way the blonde went. 

God, how it hurt. 

…

Miles didn’t know what to do, he was seeing another version of himself in front of him. He didn’t have time for this! He needed to go to his universe and save his dad. 

He needed to escape and he was about to do it, the electricity running through his fingers, he just need it to touch the chain and…

— Miles Gonzalo Morales, I’ve been waiting for you too since a half hour ago! — a female voice interrupts the scene. Miles could hear it from behind “Shit.” His uncle Aaron said nervously. 

Something in the confident facade of the other Miles broke, and he looked concerned. — In what mess did you end now? Dios mio, no se que espero de ti, en serio. Who did you chain this time? — The steps were decisive, a familiar fragrance reach Miles, and before he could say something, she look at your eyes. — Y/n? — Miles mumbled confused, as the girl kept freezing, looking at him and then at the other Miles. — The fuck? Babe, is this…you? —

— Ma, not now. — Miles grew, trying to push her away. 

— No no, nothing like that! Que mierda es eso? — Y/n look….almost the same, she was wearing a big jacket and Miles could see a gun underneath it. — Also, we had a mission today and you left me alone in the middle of nowhere waiting like a dumb. — She said hardly, pointing at Miles’ chest. 

— The kid was supposed to tell you. — Aaron said, looking away. 

— You! No, babe, he’s lying, he was supposed to text you. — Miles defends himself. 

Y/n scoffed, looking again at the Miles attached to the punching bag. 

— You are? — She asks, her eyes relaxing and turning her head curious. 

— M-Miles, from another universe. I need to go home, Y/n, you should not be around, it’s dangerous and… —

— Why is he tied up?— 

— Babe, can you let me do my things? Let this in my hand, come on. — Miles took the girl by her hands and kissed her palm. She simply pulls away, frowning. — He’s dangerous, Ma. — 

— He? If he looks like a poor and lost puppy. — She said, looking back to Miles on the punching bag. Her eyes were…warm, she smiled softly, looking curios and poking his cheek. 

Her hand was caught by the other one, he was mad.

— Ma, don’t touch him. —

— Why? he’s you….— She pout. — You’re not planning on killing him or something like that.— She smiled. 

Aaron scoff as the room filled with silence. 

— You’re planning something? —

— Babe, calm down, this bastard has everything. Tiene a su papa vivo, una buena casa, miralo! He probably has you too, why do I have to be the one who is the bad here? — Miles growled, his grip tight on her hands. 

Y/n sighed, looking at him and she leaned softly to kiss him. She gave him a peck on his lips as she smiled. 

— Bebito, solo dejalo ir, nothing is gonna change if you keep him here. If you had the opportunity…hey look at me, wouldn’t you do the same?  — She smiles, taking his cheeks in her hands. — Also, if he had me too, in his universe, I’ll be worried sick if he's not around. You want me to feel like that. — Her tone was childish as she hug Miles with those pretty eyes that he could not say no. Miles scoff at her last sentence. The boy with the braid turns his attention to him, his gaze piercing his chest. — Did you laugh? what was that?—

— Papi….— Y/N said, giving him a disapproved look. 

— S-Sorry, that just sounded weird…My Y/N…well, she’s not into me, we’re not a thing. Just friends.— He said nervous. — Someone is too scared to ask her out? — Miles put his hand around Y/n’s waist as he smirked at Miles, the other one blushing. 

— N-No, just…I’m not into her and she’s not into me either so…— 

He explains carefully, the teen next to Y/n giving him the nasties look ever. He was about to speak, gripping his girl’s body until Y/n speak. 

— Believe me, I’m into you….well, she, she’s into you. — She said softly. 

— Babe, the kid’s right, why would you be into him? You only have good taste. — Miles kisses her cheeks as Y/N giggles.

— Gosh, Miles. I’m into you since we were ten. Don’t worry, este baboso didn’t notice it either.  — She said, rolling her eyes, you two are not that different. — She crosses her eyes, looking back at the chained Miles. — So yeah, she likes you. I would like you too, you’re cute.— She wink at him. 

Miles blush softly. 

— Ma…— Miles pushes Y/N against him again, his arms protective as he look bad at Miles. 

— Also, you’re totally into her too, if Y/n is as pretty as this one…—

— oh, she is. — Miles adds, unconsciously. 

— Well, in that case, You don’t know what you’re missing. — his voice was more directed to Y/n. He started to kiss her as the girl lit, trying to pull apart. 

Aaron just rolls his eyes, used to them. 

But Miles… simply stood there. 

Cause on the one hand. You had a crush on him for that long?

And in the other….geez, you look cute when you smile and your cheeks were blushed like that. 

…

E X T R A: 

Shit….shit! 

Gwen was taken back, not just because of the food at Mile’s party, but because of one girl that was looking at her the entire time. It makes her feel… nervous, a lot. The girl was just so pretty. Why was she looking at her? Should she ask Miles to present her to Gwen?

And then, she smiled, god! her smile was just so enchanting that Gwen was so nervous, she could feel melting on her stops. 

“Y/n…” her name will be grabbed on her mind. She said her name!

Well technically, she said Gwanda, but it was the same. And it sounded good in her accent. 

Yeah, Gwen develops a crush in the most award moment and with the most impossible person ever. But still, she catches a glimpse of Y/n's lovely face before going away from Mile’s building. 

She could think of her later. 

She got an anomaly to catch. 

...

Thanks for reading, I'll probably make a second part...and another like. Side-storyline with Gwen.

I'm too lazy to traduce the spanich prases, sorry. But basically Y/n came from latin america and since she didn't knew english, she became friend with Miles <3

Leave a comment if you liked, a request or any anon message

Besitos a todo el mundo.

Truly yours, Astrid.

[imlovewithpixels]

MANHWA MASTERLIST!

twtptflob / roxana

🌻 - mornings with jeremy, deon, and cassis

🌻 - lant agriche with a grandchild!reader

🌻 - agriche fam with a mobius!reader (wip)

aiwtro

🌻 - ludwig with a childhood friend (wip)

botv!

🌻 - yuri elizabeth with a elysia!reader (wip)

fidwtm!

🌻 - legis in an arranged marriage (wip)

wmmap / sbapod

🌻 - ijekiel with an ex-fiancee (wip)

tcf

🌻 - alberu w/a spouse that likes flowers (wip)

🌻 - alberu w/a affectionate childhood friend

[imlovewithpixels]

Actualizing this with my new obsession, Spiderverse, probably opening the request dor some headcanons while I work on my one-shots. uu

((FANDOM MASTERLIST))

and a little presentation about me. ...Eng / Spa

Howdy! I'm Astrid, a Peruvian girl who enjoys writing self-insert /OC fanfics as her own form of therapy. I also study animation, want to learn witchcraft, love Ghibli movies, and fall in love with a new 2D character weekly.

My first language is Spanish, and I really try to enhance my English. So I probably will have grammar mistakes, please be nice. uu <3

Ahora si, ahi les va mi Masterlist.

(( Remember that my requests are OPEN - Spanish or English, please ASK ME ANYTHING, tALK TO ME ))

Encanto Masterlist

Spiderverse Masterlist

Quackity (Only work)

--------

That will be all, thank you and stay hidrated.

Besitos a todo el mundo.

Truly yours, Astrid.

[imlovewithpixels]

How does Quackity met you?

- Fem!Reader x Quackity little imagine

Pov: You became viral on TikTok for the wrong thing.

(( Remember that my request are OPEN - Spanish or English))

This is my first thing in english for the streamer community even if I see more content off the Hispanic Streamers

Also, If you like my work, check out my Masterlist . I need to update my fandoms <3

-  English is not my mother lenguaje, please be nice if I had any grammatical errors.

You were just streaming Minecraft. It was a pretty chill and cozy stream where you were decorating your mushroom house and talking with your chat. You had a little community in Spanish and English but your viewers were around 1k per stream. 

Your calm voice was accompanied by the background music on Minecraft while you were mumbling to a song that was stuck in your head since last week. 

And then you saw your Twitch display.

Quackity was on stream…¿he was going to play garthic phone? 

You NEEDED to see that. 

— Okay…ma babies, I will end this stream right here.— You said, laughing a little bit. 

A lot of comments started to pop up. “Why???” “noooo pliss :c” “I just started watching TT” “mi casitaaa, don't go” 

— Well…you know, Quackity …he…he just started a Spanish stream and I want to see it. — You whisper to the microphone fast. Your cheeks were red from embarrassment. “So, all of you should go. We have one rule in this place, "If mi casita is streaming, go to see it” After a silly tone of voice you smile at the camera and wave a little wave. “Babays”

“She had a crush on him, umm. Our mommy is gonna leave us. TT” A last-time donation came up in your scream and the robotic voice read it. You open your eyes surprised and completely flutter. 

— I-I, I don’t, mierda. wHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS? — Your chat started calling you cute and being dramatic for leaving them when you turned off the camera. Your hot face and silly but cute expression were the last images that you gave them. 

Then, you went to the other stream, and continued with your Minecraft real, while listening to a lot of Spanish swearing. 

…

It only took one week to blow off. 

That little clip of your last stream kinda became viral on TikTok.

 “The girl that ends up her stream for Quackity” 

Oh god, oh my god. 

This was so embarrassing. On one side, you didn’t mean any of this but your account kinda blows up with a lot of new people and subs. But, there was also a thing that you have never dealt with before, haters. Who said that you only wanted attention, that you were just a fangirl who wanted to meet him. Just pick me.

That makes you uncomfortable, you didn’t know how to deal with all that shit, but still tried to look calm like always on your streams. With 5k viewers on you, it was a little hard to read all the comments while you were playing Valorant, but you could see a lot of comments referring to the Mexican streamers.

You’re nervous. You didn’t mean any of this, and first of all, you did not want to disturb Quackity. 

You just hope that this incident just passes like any other TikTok and were replaced.

…

“Have you seen the girl who just turned off her stream for you? Such a pick me” 

The robotic voice was heard after the donation and Quackity just could give a confused look. His chat seemed to know about the topic, and they started spamming his discord with certain TikTok. 

— What are you talking about, guys?  — He opened one of them and your voice filled his stream.

Quackity saw your relaxing face while singing, your brown eyes lit up when she saw something, and you had a cute little smile. And your wavy hair follows your head movements when you face the camera with an embarrassed expression. 

“Well…you know, Quackity …he…he just started a Spanish stream and I want to see it. “ 

He knew he had fans, a lot of them actually, but that little clip of you just ending your stream for him makes him kinda happy. His heart warms up while you shout to your chat, like, and intern joke. His cheeks feel a little hot and the smile across his face captures the chat's attention.

“She’s cute”

“New ship, new ship”

“She just wanted fame I think.”

“I follow her, pure mommy vibes”

“She has been harassed on her last streams for this, what a shame. “

That little comment took him back to the earth. 

— “Guys, you know that I don’t support any of this behavior. Please, if you comment shitty things to this pretty girl, you’re not part of my community” — Alex didn’t notice the pretty on his lips when he called you and almost immediately went to your stream to follow you. 

Little did he know that you were on a drawing stream, too focused on your work to look at your chat. Your live face was so beautiful, even if you were with a messy bum and frowning in concentration. 

He donated to you right away.

“Quackity had donated 10 000 bits. And applause for the sugar” Your alert claimed.

“ I like that drawing, I could request a commission someday. I’m sorry for any uncomfortable comment from my community, I thought that your gesture was really funny and sweet :) “

You just drop your pencil for the amount of money and then, when you see the username, your face goes from pale to red in two seconds. 

Shit. Shit. 

Did he just…. know that you fucking exist for a TikTok?

— “I-I…. Yo…deje mi comida en la estufa. Gracias por la plata. Sleep well chat. “ — And with that, you went off stream. 

...

Quackity blinked two times and then he just bursts off in a laugh. 

That was so funny, you were interesting. 

“You suck flirting.” 

— I was not….I didn’t mean to…fuck off, chat. Let’s enter the server. — He said, rolling his eyes, trying to distract himself from thinking about your last expression and how you couldn’t manage to erase the shy smile off your face. 

Did he have that effect on you? 

How cute.