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every-dayiwakeup · 2 years ago
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If Billy Hargrove is your idea of evil, you’re a life virgin. Seriously, you must live in a hell of a security bubble.
 An abused teenager who spent the majority of his screen time in tears and being taken advantage of repeatedly isn’t evil. Labeling stuff you don’t understand as evil or problematic... do y’all ever get tired?? 
Being exposed to “the other side” is literally a part of life, and it’s not a bad thing. It can be good for you, actually. 
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slingbats · 4 months ago
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I am going to need that rewrite on my desk by tomorrow, 12 point font, times new roman, double spaced
noOOOOOO IT'S TOO MUCH WORK!!! I DON'T HAVE TIME AND I DON'T CARE ENOUGH........ girl help!
my rewrite where uhhhhhhhhhh. everything is the same except the writers actually care about female characters. a lot of decisions were made because of actresses no longer being available so plotlines like fish's are more or less the same but like, Ivy either gets to grow up normally or is never a child at the beginning to start with (you can go the weird plant body route if you have to keep her relatively younger since this is a prequel ig), and I don't... even know what to make of KK or Isabella, and Sofia should just be fucking. dont tell me there isn't a single female italian bodybuilder who can act, I don't believe you. let her be buff. let her take up space. let her be huge and wear vintage fashion.
also Oswald is fat and trans
#the problem is that largely i think gotham should suck ass#the only thing that really drives me up the fucking wall is the like. obvious sexism#every fully disposable female character makes me evil#i dont know what they were on about the riddler fangirl and i've chosen not to examine it bc i suspect you had to be there#in order to understand what whoever wrote that was mad about specifically. i can't stand that shit#'we have to openly mock some actually harmless aspect of our fanbase' ok but can you do it without being weird and sexist '🧍‍♂️'#but generally? the Stupid plotlines the Really dumb crap#whatever the fuck gordon is doing from episode to episode#...it builds character. i wasn't paying attention to most of it anyway#hey real quick look me in the eyes#there was something there. i hate the galavan arc so much but there was something there.#a sympathy. a kinship between tabitha and silver. tabitha was groomed for a role the same way silver is being groomed and she recognizes#the childish desire to please authority figures in their stupid bullshit organization even though silver can't see it because she's still l#living in it#did you guys see that? because i saw it#and it's in the middle of like. one of the worst arcs in the show#(the arc is fine the actor who plays theo is just so like. he has no charisma at all and something is Off about the whole thing bc of it)#oh wait no yeah actually. the stuff with silver is kind of hard to watch bc it would be interesting if they wanted to examine it#but it's a stupid drama series so it's just a love triangle even though she's a pretty sad character even within the writing in this show#and silver never comes back. and she doesn't need to bc they wouldnt know how to treat her#but did you guys see that too?#I like tabitha#anyway that arc is bad but i do think sometimes about silver saying 'my favorite animal is a dolphin bc they're magic'#and for a second bruce forgets the situation and looks like he's going to snap#exclusively because she said something factually incorrect about an animal#what was i talking about again
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rxttenfish · 1 year ago
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i do think its funny how when i ask other people about miravi they fairly directly go to them getting along, meanwhile, me, the captain of miravi and the one driving this ship, insists that they take one look at each other and mutually decide the vibes are RANCID. they hate each other SO much. they are trying to kill each other. its cute ❤
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peppermintpuffs · 3 months ago
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stupid life problems vent
god this babysitting shit is pissing me off so bad. like you want a free babysitter and you get it in the form of me! someone with zero experience with babies AND who you dont give out all of the fucking details for what exactly is needed for your kid so theyre bound to make mistakes! and yet heres my BiL talking to my DAD of all people about how hes not sure how comfortable he is with me babysitting anymore?? because you dont tell me shit?? and i dont KNOW shit?? like how about you please figure out it sooner rather than later so that i can stop wasting hours of my time and gallons of my gas to watch your kid while you take a shower jfc
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snekdood · 10 months ago
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idk how or when i got 700 followers but cool and hi i guess
#why are you here#im literally just here yelling#i was at like 200 last i checked#gotta be a lot of bots bc idk#its just that i hate this website so i dont understand how theres a portion of this website that wants to follow me#either its bots or cowards taking screenshots of my posts w/o saying shit to me directly#or ig the rare few of people that genuinely like me ???????????????????????????????#but qhy#i am starting to get anxiety about this revelation. i fear power.#one of the worst fates i'd hate to fall unto me is becoming powerful and misusing it. becoming what i hate.#so i try to push power away all the time. its why im so nasty on here dsjhbvdhgfbs im trying to get people to HATE ME#pls dont do this. i Will just hide away from humanity if i have to#*begins stabbing in the air violently in all directions as if trying to fight off a very quick small ghost*#yelling on the internet about your problems is all fun and games until ppl actually follow u and start to like u and become somewhat#swayed by what you say through no real attempt of your own and thn its a decision if you're going to let a drunkenness for that power to#over take you or reject it like the hideous manipulative shit it is#and then i end up deleting my social media accounts for a while bc the responsibility of power is too overwhelming and it keeps#trying to fucking come bACk to me and i DONT FUCKIN WANT IT#google how do i make people hate me and unfollow me so things can go back to normal and i can be a nobody yelling online#people who are following me and especially young people listen up: you do not have to be like me or do anything like me#you can be disgusted or annoyed with some of the ways i operate and generally like me anyways#dont feel pressured to do anything i say ever im yelling to what i was hoping was the void but ended up being 700 entire people#im literally just some guy who sits inside and thinks all day and likes to garden and do art sometimes and im only 26#i am not someone who knows everything or anything like that i share from my own experiences and thats it#and i am not always correct on anything ever and im always open to being wrong and i especially love it when people ACTUALLY#directly point out to me when im wrong and correct me and please oh god please do not try to be like me sdfbhfsdvhgfsdhgc#you are your own person with your own life i can be a guy you look at and be like 'how can i be more like or less like this dumpster fire#of a man' but dont be like me in every way or think like me in every way just dont please have your own opinions#okay im glad i got that off my chest sdnjfsdhvgsdhvgfhvgfsd#also if you're a minor you SHOULDNT be following me anyways
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reidrum · 15 days ago
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how dare you think it's romantic, leaving me safe and stranded
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A/N: if i stared at this any longer it would never see the light of day...so here she is! this is the longest fic i've ever written and i'm kinda gagged about that but i really hope you like it and if you don't that's okay too this is just silly angsty brainrot anyways thanks for reading this my inbox is open if you wanna yap more summary: in which your kidnapping forces you and spencer to face the fallout following your recently ended relationship cw: angst, hurt/comfort, reader is kidnapped/held hostage, implications and mentions of SA to reader but nothing happens, cm type violence, ex!spencer, lowkey lovers to enemies back to lovers, cat adams, medical jargon, miscommunication trope, the bau team is family, afab!reader, pet names wc: 5.1k
Every case you and Spencer have been on has been insufferable for the rest of the team since your falling out, if it had to be given a name. Everyone always had to deal with your constant bickering and harsh words. It was the same in every case, a difference of opinions that led to incessant fighting between you two, Hotch would have to separate you both and use your joint intelligence separately for the sake of keeping everyone alive.
This last case was nothing different, a serial killer in Athens, Georgia who was religiously sacrificing young women in the name of a cult. Both of you fighting over what you believed the other to be wrong about in their part for solving the case. Spencer thought the unsub would have struck in a zone closer to his home, you assumed he was only going after women who resembled someone in his life. The real problem was that you were both wrong.
And it ended with you being held hostage.
It all happened so fast. You were in the car with Spencer and Rossi driving out to the unsub’s house to check for new evidence when you had stopped at a gas station about 15 miles out from the house to refuel. Rossi got out of the car to pump the gas, Spencer sat in the passenger seat, and you went inside to use the bathroom and grab a quick snack.
You quickly washed your hands after finishing in the bathroom and wiped your hands on your pants, still slightly damp as you turn the handle of the door. As you’re perusing the aisle looking for a snack, you can feel the presence of watchful eyes on you. Casually, you slowly look up and around at the source and clock a figure an aisle over with a cap turned downward blocking their face. 
Your gut was sending flares up, telling you that danger was near. You nonchalantly walk over to the aisle he’s in, pretending to look at the nuts and dried fruits while attempting to get a look at his face. In a (maybe not so) bright idea, you think to knock a bag of nuts on the floor next to the lurker’s feet in the hopes he’ll bend down to pick it up for you.
With a push of your hand, the bag knocks off the shelf and onto the floor and you both bend down to pick it up.
“I’m so sorry about that,” you chuckle lightly, “I’m such a clutz.”
“No problem at all, Miss—.” He stops talking all of a sudden, you’re unsure why. You follow his gaze to your left hip where your FBI credentials are peaking out.
Shit.
He draws a weapon faster than you’re able to react with getting your own out, and by the time yours is out the barrel of his is flush with your forehead.
“Drop it.”
You quickly recognize the man as your unsub, miles away from his hunting ground and about to stray from his victimology with you.
“Come on, up. We’re going for a little ride.” He snarls, glancing outside at the black SUV with your colleagues. He grabs you by a hairful and drags you out the back door, shooting the gas station clerk before making the escape with you to his pickup truck. You’re shoved against the car door, back facing him, as he place a zip tie on your wrists and opens the door to sit you in the back seat. The unsub gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car, glaring at you through the rear view mirror, “I’m gonna have fun with you, fed.”
Meanwhile, back in the car Rossi stands at the pump waiting for the tank to fill and Spencer remains in the car looking over the case details once more. He can’t help but feel something is wrong, but can’t place his finger on it. He looks over the details again meticulously, searching for a fault anywhere in your, or even his own logic. Rossi closes the tank and hops back in the car, “She’s not back yet?” he pondered.
Spencer hadn’t even realized you weren’t back yet, “I guess not,” something wasn’t right, “She went ten minutes ago right?”
Rossi nods, opening his mouth to speak when a gunshot coming from the gas station cuts him off. The men look at each other, eyes widened and rush out of the car, weapons drawn.
“FBI!” Rossi enters, looking for any sign of you but coming up empty. Spencer takes note of the disheveled store, produce and cans lying astray. He steps around the mess to find an out of place bag of sour gummy worms on the floor in the middle of an aisle only filled with nuts and dried fruit. 
Sour gummy worms were your favorite.
A sinking feeling settles in Spencer as he tries to fight the reality his brain is trying to tell him. He looks to Rossi with a pained expression, and Rossi matches it back.
“He took her.”
___
The next few hours are a blur for Spencer.
Rossi called the team to meet them at the gas station, already telling Garcia to hack into the security cameras to find any clue of where he’d taken you. Emily and Derek were checking out the crime scene, Hotch and Rossi talking to the sheriff. JJ finds Spencer staring off onto the one road connected to the station.
“We’re gonna find her, Spence.”
He whips his head up at the sound of her voice, “I should’ve realized sooner. I knew there was something off about his MO, a—and I just couldn’t place it. And now she’s gone and it’s all my fault and I never—“
“Spencer,” JJ interrupts softly, “You couldn’t have known. None of us did, even her.”
“I should have,” he laments, “And if she…if something happens to her because I wasn’t paying attention…” He trails off, too afraid of what his brain thinks is the ending of the sentence.
JJ offers him a sympathetic look, understanding the conflicting emotions, “We’ll find her, she’s strong. You know that.”
He stares back at her hoping, praying, that she’s right and you’re going to be okay. You have to be.
He’s pulled out of his head by Morgan calling him and JJ over, telling Garcia on the phone to repeat her findings.
“Okay, I think I have a lead based on the security camera footage on the car he has and where it’s been last seen. I’m sending the last known coordinates to your phones now.” 
An idea springs to him, “Garcia, can you also check the gas station records and see how much he filled his tank?”
The clacking sounds of her keyboard ring through the phone before she speaks again, “He didn’t fill a full tank, only like, fifteen miles worth of gas.”
Everyone looks up at each other in realization of what the new information means. You had to be close by. Morgan walks over to tell Hotch, who immediately talks to a state ranger about setting up a 15 mile radius around the gas station with monitored roadblocks, no entry or exit without inspection. 
After Hotch finishes he walks back to Spencer and lays a hand on his shoulder, “Good job, Reid,” He nods back with a thin lipped smile and fiddles with his pen anxiously, “Are you okay?”. Spencer can’t tell if he’s genuinely asking him or if he’s asking him for the sake of him being able to do his job properly considering the circumstances. Ever the profiler that man is, he thinks.  He nods again nonetheless and walks over to meet Derek at the car.
Spencer and Derek get into the car and set the route for the coordinates Garcia gave, ETA 14 minutes. He swallows nervously, do you even have 14 minutes? What if he’s too late? What if you’re not even there? What if he never got to tell you—
“Reid. Are you even listening?”
“What?”
Derek raises his eyebrows as he glances at his friend, “Got something on your mind?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re a shit liar, man.”
“I’m not lying.” Even he doesn’t believe himself.
“Spencer—“
“I’m just worried! Okay? We’re all worried, it’s not a big deal.” he snaps.
Derek stops at a red light and looks over the console, “I’m going to ignore whatever that was,” guilt sweeps over Spencer’s face as he continues, “I’m not stupid kid, I know how you’re feeling. But you can’t let whatever turmoil you got in that big brain of yours affect this case. Not now.”
“I know that, Morg—“
“No, you don’t. I know you’re thinking about her, we all are. And we all want—need—her to be okay too. We will find her, but we can’t let the unsub get away too.”
Spencer sighs outwardly seeing the truth in his words. As concerned as he was about you he needed to remember this was still an active case. He couldn't let your past with each other cloud his judgement, even if the fallout still haunts him every day of his life. He needs to save you, but he also has a job to do. He just wasn’t sure if he’d remember that when they finally found you.
——
A pounding in your head stirs you awake, the bitter taste of metal flooding your senses as you come to. You blink a few times adjusting to the lowlights of the unfamiliar environment, hoping to find something distinguishable to ground you back to reality. It doesn’t help once you realize the blood crusted over your eye is the reason for your obscured vision. You attempt to rub it off on your shoulder ignoring the sharp pains shooting up from the abrasive contact. 
Once you think you’ve cleared enough you blink a few more times registering your surroundings to be a house, a cabin more accurately. Your memory is a little fuzzy as you try to recount what happened before you were knocked out cold.
Gas station. Unsub. Unsub at the gas station? But where was I…I went to the bathroom… and was getting…gummy worms?… But Rossi and Spencer were just outside… now I’m here…so does that means the unsub—
“Oh good, you’re awake.”
You jolt at the voice—the unsub you’ve come to remember—and you realize your hands are tied up behind your back, quickly coming to the second realization that you are rendered both injured and immobile.
“What do you want, Jason?” you say hoarsely after a minute.
He chuckles, “I didn’t know they made them so pretty at the academy…” he walks over and kneels in front of you, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb to move your head, “They probably kept you around for…entertainment right?”
You whip your head, “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“Oh, you’re feisty. That’s good, keep it up. Makes this more fun.” he walks back over to the table and fiddles with something, you can’t really tell from the floor, “So how’d they make it work back in—what is it called—Quantico! They take turns with you or? There’s so many of y’all, probably had a system.”
The pounding in your head makes it more difficult to process anything he’s saying, “The hell are you talking about, take turns with what?” you ask, wincing through another wave of pain.
He turns around holding a metal rod and walks over, angling the rod under your chin to tilt your face up to meet his as he snarls, “I can’t wait to see how it feels to fuck a federal whore.”
All the color drains from your face and you kick into whatever gas is left in your autopilot. Your feet are flailing in every direction, body thrashing violently to prevent Jason from getting a good grip on you. You quickly learn the purpose of the metal rod hearing the clang! first, a millisecond passing before the pain and threat of unconsciousness spreads through your brain. 
The hit takes you out long enough for him to pin you down on the floor, the weight of his body landing on you before the metal rod goes for your limbs. It’s then you realize the throes of death have wrangled you for what appears to be the last time, and it’s probably wise to start saying—thinking— your final words.
To my parents, I love you. To Derek and Penelope, thank you for letting me third wheel with you. Emily, I’ll miss our weekend Sin City excursions. JJ, please give your boys the biggest hug from their favorite aunt. Rossi and Hotch, you always cared for me like I was your own—I am so grateful for you.
And Spencer…Oh, Spencer. How I hoped I would have the time to say I’m sorry for what happened, I hope you’ll forgive me in due time. I wish I told you that nothing about us ever changed for me. You were and will always be, My Spencer, I just wish I could tell you one more time how much I lov—“
“FBI, Drop your weapon!”
A clattering sound of something dropping rings directly next to your ear and the weight that was on you alleviates at the same time. You groan out and instinctively curl up on yourself, the pain spreading throughout your body. The sensory overload is so much you don’t hear the approaching figure crouching next to you.
“Hey Hey Hey,” Spencer stutters, quickly making work of the ties on your hands and holding you gently as he lays your head on his lap cradling you close, trying to hide the forming tears when he hears your whimpers of pain, “You’re okay, it’s okay. The medic’s coming.” He looks back to where the unsub was and watches Derek put him in cuffs, nodding at Spencer before walking out with Jason.
“…Spencer?” you whisper out weakly. You think you’re dreaming honestly, that in the wake of death you learn heaven isn’t a place but only his arms.
“Yeah, honey, it’s me.” he chokes out looking back down at your bruised face. He’s unsure how you still look angelic even when you’re hurt, but it doesn’t surprise him that you do. You were always good at defying the laws of nature, he prayed it extended to your immortality.
“It hurts.” you pout pathetically.
He brushes a strand of hair out of your eyes gently, “I know it does, honey I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry this happened. I should’ve been there. I’m sorry, baby.” he whispers tearfully.
You cough out and whimper in pain, “I’m sorry too.”
Spencer shakes his head vehemently, “No, don’t apologize. Don’t do that, just keep your eyes open for me, okay? I’m right here, I won’t leave you.”
The tiredness soon wins and your eyes flutter close. Before Spencer can even panic and beg you to open them again the medic finally comes and asks him—pulls him— to move so they can start working on you.
He reluctantly backs up and watches on with glossed over eyes, barely registering all the things they were sticking in you to wake you up. The medics stabilize your neck with a C-SPINE and lift you onto the gurney, wheeling you back to the ambulance. The same medic who asked Spencer to move comes up to him again, “We’re taking her to Georgetown Medical, you’re allowed to ride in the back with us if you want.”
You slowly come to again on the gurney and Spencer meets your open eyes before you even realize they’re on you. Without hesitation he says, “Yeah, I’m coming.”
The medic team lifts your gurney inside the rig, and right before Spencer gets in he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns around to find Hotch, “You’ll be okay?” 
It’s a loaded question. He’s not asking if Spencer is okay at this moment, because it doesn’t take a profiler to see that he’s the farthest from it. He says it as a grounding reminder knowing how Spencer gets about you. It didn’t matter to the team if you both fell out, the pair of you never faltered in your subconscious for each other. Both of your actions always moved faster than your brains, especially when it involved the other. 
That’s what worried his Unit Chief.
He nods and Hotch gives his shoulder a light squeeze, “Keep us updated,” the concern clearly etched in his eyes breaking through his usual stoicism as he looks inside the rig, “We’ll meet you there as soon as we can.”
Under the bright lights of the ambulance he’s—unfortunately—able to really take inventory of the injuries you sustained. The blue and black bruising scattered your limbs, the congregation of it on your stomach telling him you have at least two broken ribs. His eyes trail further down your body before abruptly stopping, but not on an appendage.
Spencer’s face pales even further than it already has staring at the glint on the undone button of your trousers shining in the reflection of the light.
If they didn’t get there when they did…If he got to you a second later…He can’t even fathom to think about what would’ve happened.
He’s broken out of his spiral by the EMT sitting next to him offering a tissue, which is when Spencer feels the tear and snot streaks rolling down his face. He takes it and wipes his face mindlessly before muttering, “Can I just…” hands reaching out to you before his words come out. Spencer doesn’t notice the EMT tearing up as he gently buttons your pants.
——
You were a fighter.
At least, that’s what the doctors told Spencer when they came and updated him in the waiting room. He blanks out for most of the conversation, eyes unfocusing and ears on low lest your name be spoken.
“She’s stable and awake now, the nurse can take you back to see her.”
He shakes his head to recenter and mutters a thank you before following the nurse through the double white doors. His senses are heightened as he walks closer to your room. The scuff of his shoes on the linoleum floors, the pedantic beeping of machines in the rooms he passes, until he hears the only voice that’s ever been enough to calm the warzone in his mind.
“Hi, Spence.”
His feet move on their own accord right next to your bedside, hands hovering awkwardly at his side. He’s silent for the first couple minutes, just a faint sniffle here and there before he takes a seat near your bed and hears you speak again.
“You can touch me, Spence. I won’t break more than I already am.”
“Don’t say that,” he chides quickly, “It’s not a joke.”
“Well, someone should be the comedic relief here.”
He lays the tips of his fingers right on top of the tips of yours, “You could have died.”
Your face softens, “I didn’t though.”
“You could have.”
“Spencer—“
“Stop down playing it. You don’t know what it was like finding you like that.”
“I mean I have some idea, ‘cause like, I was there.” 
Spencer deadpans at your poor attempt at lightening the mood, a faint smile peaking through while he shakes his head, “Insufferable even at your deathbed.”
“Yeah, the Grim Reaper heard me yapping and said ‘keep her’.”
He chuckles softly as his hand moves further up to rest the front of his palm on the back of your hand, “How are you feeling?”
“I’ve…been better. The doctor said one of my broken ribs punctured an artery, a big one apparently,” you flip your hand over so both of your palms are touching but not laced, you softly continue, “Told me I was lucky I came in when I did. Any later the internal bleeding would’ve spread to my lungs.”
Spencer feels the tears springing again and a lump forming in his throat, “I’m so sorry, sweet girl,” the pet name slipping out before he could realize, “I should’ve gotten there sooner, or realized something was wrong at the gas station.”
“Hey. Don’t do that. You saved my life.” your fingers intertwine with his and squeeze with whatever strength you can muster, which isn’t a lot and it makes his heart clench tighter. “I’m here.”
He lets out the breath he’s been holding since he walked in, “You’re here.”
“I didn’t forget what you promised me when we…broke up,” God you wish it didn’t sound so terminable as it did, “I knew you’d find me. You always do.”
Another sniffle leaves him as he rubs his thumb soothingly on your hand, “I always do…Look, there’s something I need to tell you—“
He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Penelope & Company burst into your room bearing balloons, chocolates, and many, many stuffies.
“How’s our girl doing?” Penelope huffs, hauling an entire Hallmark catalog worth of gifts in tow.
“She’s doing fine, Penny.” you chuckle lightly, trying your best to hide the wince of pain from your side, “You did not need to do all this.”
“Nonsense, everyone knows bear stuffies are the real medicine of the world.” she gleefully ignores the nurse onlookers, “I also brought you this, of special request by someone who shall not be named.” From her back she produces a bag of your favorite candy—sour gummy worms. A fact that you knew only one person was privy to.
You act surprised nonetheless, “My favorite! Thank you, Penny. And all of you, for coming to see my crippled self.”
Spencer watches the team take turns doting on you. Emily, JJ, and Penelope sit with you for about four Gilmore Girls episodes—another lost relic of modern medicine, according to Penny—after which Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch keep you company for a little bit before bidding you good night with forehead kisses and well wishes. Spencer stays with you the whole time, never once leaving your side. 
You are so loved, he thinks. He didn’t realize how much he liked watching you be loved. It makes him miss the times when he could do that for you too.
——
Weeks pass since the day of your kidnapping. You still find it weird to call it that, even though it’s literally what happened. You’ve been on house arrest—bed rest—begrudgingly, and while Penelope’s very glittery visiting schedule has kept you entertained, it’s been hard when the only person you really wanted to see has refused to come visit since you left the hospital.
You’ve asked Penelope why Spencer hasn’t come, and all she can offer you is a sad smile and a ‘He said something come up sweetie, sorry.’. Texting him seemed even more daunting, more because you weren’t about to beg for his attention if he obviously doesn’t want you to have it. 
The doorbell steals your attention and you glance over at the schedule before you walk over to open it, not expecting a visitor at this time.
Spencer looks up from his shoes hearing the door open, “Hey.”
A minute passes, “Why are you here?” you ask bluntly.
He looks confused, “I came to check on you, brought you takeout from the Indian place you like.” The food in his hand smells heavenly but you can’t seem to enjoy it yet without getting an answer.
“Why are you here, now?” you ask again with an addendum.
He either really wants to piss you off or his ear blew out on the way over but he chooses to ignore you and enter your apartment, “You having nightmares again?”
“What? No…” you lie poorly, straightening up your back, “Just tired.”
He chuckles, “Good to know you’re still a terrible liar. Did you know you wear Doctor Who shirts when you’re feeling anxious?”
Your brows fuddle in confusion but he elaborates, “It’s probably subconscious, something you find comforting and naturally gravitate to in times of distress. It’s a normal stress response but…you’re wearing an Eleventh Doctor shirt.” My Eleventh Doctor shirt, he thinks.
“That doesn’t mean anything.” you feign.
“Maybe it doesn’t,” he nods, “But you are anxious aren’t you?”
“Spencer, what the fuck is going on, why are you here, really?” your eyes narrow, arms crossing defensively.
“I told you, I came to check on you.”
“You just woke up this morning and decided it was convenient for you to see me today?” Spencer opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. You stare at him with tearful eyes and the emotion spills out of you before you can stop it. You speak again after a few moments, voice barely above a whisper, “You left me. Again.”
He tilts his head, “No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.” you grit out, “You were rooted at my bedside the entire time I was hospitalized, and the second I was discharged you were nowhere to be found. I thought, maybe with Penny’s schedule you’d come by, but then I came to find out that you didn’t even put your name down.”
“You almost died!” he retorts, “You almost died, because I made a mistake and you got hurt because of it!”
“So, that gives you the right to abandon me for the second time?”
“I didn’t…” he sighs out roughly, “I didn’t abandon you. I just, couldn’t…face you.” Face you, in pain, as a result of his actions.
“Is that what happened the first time you left?” you bite back.
His eyes steel over, “That was different.”
“I don’t see how.”
“You know why I left.”
“I don’t think I do, Spencer—”
“I left because I was putting you in danger!” he yells cutting you off, “I left because loving you meant dragging you into all the messed up stuff that happens to me, stuff that’ll keep happening to me.”
Tobias. Mexico. Cat.
A single tear rolls down your face, “That’s bullshit, I’m sorry. We work the same damn job, the risks are the same if we’re together or not.”
“You don’t understand—“
“Then fucking enlighten me, Spencer.”
He stares at you, fighting an internal battle of whether he was really willing to admit his truth to you, one that he knows you deserved to know but wasn’t sure if it would put you more in harm's way.
“Cat had details about your family.”
That’s not what you were expecting to hear. Your face drops, “Wh—What?”
His eyes dart around the room nervously, “After I got out of Millburn and we went to see Cat, she was trying all these tactics to get me to break. I was doing fine, until she started talking about you. She was saying things that only you told me, stuff that’s not even on record.”
You remember that day. You were supposed to go with him and JJ to the correctional facility but ended up stuck at the BAU because your skill set was more valuable in helping Penelope locate Mr. Scratch. You remember how he came back to you that day, distant and glassed over. It was easy to chalk up his behavior following it to his recent release, but when you woke up a few weeks later to an empty bed and a throwaway note saying ‘I’m sorry.”, you couldn’t figure out for the life of you why all of a sudden you didn’t exist to him, like you didn’t matter.
“I made a choice, one that I knew would protect you.”
“That’s not a decision for you to make.” you snap.
“I had to,” he says lowly, taking a step closer to you, “If being with me puts your safety at risk…” another step, “I’d rather live in a world where you hate me and are still here…” one more step, “Than one where you loved me and died because of it.” he manages to choke out, taking one final step towards you.
It’s quiet for a couple minutes, save for the soft whistle of the breeze coming from your open window. The resolve in you has long faded, leaving behind nothing but the skin on your bones to weather the damage. It makes sense to you why he did what he did, and you don’t know if the roles were reversed would you do the same thing. But you knew that you loved him and he loved you, and that alone should have been enough.
You can’t help but let out a whine, sounding like a petulant child, “That’s not fair, Spence.”
“What’s not fair, baby?” he softly whispers.
Your whine turns into a cry, “That, all of this. The fall on your sword act in which you decide what’s best for me is to leave me stranded, thinking I did something wrong that made you stop loving me.”
He steps forward a little more, his face mere inches from your own, “You think I stopped loving you?”
“Was I supposed to think otherwise? You couldn’t even stand being in the same room as me.”
His hands raise to gently cup your face, thumbs positioned under your eyes to wipe the fallen tears. He’s missed looking into your eyes as close as he is. For a man who doesn’t believe in religion he’s pretty certain the gates of heaven lie within your irises.
“I was selfish,” he swallows, “I wanted to keep you safe but I did so in a way that I felt was most logical, which turned out to be so fucking wrong regardless since you still got hurt.”
He brings your face impossibly closer, the warmth of his breath gently hitting your face.
“There isn’t a waking moment where I don’t love you. Even when we weren’t together, I still looked out for you and I made sure you were safe in ways I couldn’t tell you. I meant what I said. I told you I’d find you in every lifetime. I love you, in every lifetime, angel girl.”
The ache in your heart only grows with his words, reminding you that he always was and will forever be, Your Spencer.
“You can’t do that again,” you stutter out through tiny sobs, “You need to tell me what’s going on, whatever it is. We figure it out together.”
He nods softly, the hair on his forehead faintly brushing up on yours, “We figure it out together. I’m so sorry for everything, baby.” his lips press a long kiss to your forehead, “I’m here now, I’m not going anywhere.”
You rise on your toes to meet your lips with his, the missed time and unspoken words flowing silently between you both. His hands wrap gently around your waist and pull you flush to his chest, with yours entangling with the brown curls you had missed so much.
Finally back in his arms, you sigh with exhaustion and relief, “You’re here.”
“I’m here, honey.”
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alastor-simp · 10 months ago
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Horror Movie Night😈 - Alastor x Reader
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Charlie wanted to find an activity to bring everyone together, since a lot of the personalities in the hotel would clash. She had made a list of ideas, but majority of them were turn down for being too childish. The last option was a movie night with everyone, and surprisingly everyone agreed. The genre of movie was the real problem. Charlie wanted a musical. Vaggie had a preference for drama. Angel dust preferred either a steamy flick (aka porn) or comedy. Niffty voted for romance. Husk didn't really care, but he wouldn't be upset if it was an action movie. Sir Pentious was interested in historical / documentaries. Alastor was not a big fan of modern technology especially television, but he would give it a try if the movie was a horror. You enjoyed all genres of movies, so it didn't matter which one you saw. Coming up with an idea, you suggested pulling a name out of the hat, to decide the genre of movie that gets picked. Borrowing Husk's hat for a bit, everyone wrote their name on a piece of paper and tossed it in. After a quick shake, you grabbed the first piece of paper and pulled it out.
Yelp, looks like it was going to be a horror movie as Al's was the name you pulled out. Everyone had made their way to the couch, while some of them sat on the floor. They were all dressed in their pajamas. Niffty had made popcorn and drinks for everyone to enjoy during the movie. Charlie was lighting some candles to add some effect when the movie was playing. Next to you on the couch was Alastor. He was wearing a red stripped top, and black lounge pants. He seemed very cozy. "Hey Al. What movie did you pick?" Alastor looked at you, smiling big as always. 'Well my dear, I picked whatever seemed interesting! I hope you will enjoy it!" Giving an awkward smile back, your eyes turned toward the TV as soon as Charlie pressed play. You didn't mind horror movies, but being the scaredy cat that you were, they still made you scream.
The movie that Alastor picked was "The Descent." The start of the film was a bit slow, but it slowly began to build up overtime. It got to the point in the movie where the characters had entered into the large cave, to explore. Yeah, that was already a red flag. Scanning your eyes around the room, you took in everyone's reactions. Charlie and Vaggie were hugging the life out of each other. Niffty was smiling, but she was clutching on to her plushie very tightly. Angel was on edge and tried to cling on to Husk, only to be pushed back by him. Angel huffed and decided to a least grab Husk's hand for comfort, and Husk allowed that at least. Sir Pentious was cowering on the floor, wrapping his whole tail around him. Alastor was just smiling next to you, obviously enjoying where the movie was going. You, on the other hand, was getting a very bad feeling in your stomach as the characters kept exploring the cave. The pillow that you were holding was being used as a shield as you kept hiding behind it, waiting for something to happen.
The climax of the movie had arrived when the grotesque bat-like monster had made an appearance and proceeded to feast on one of the characters. Everyone in the room had screamed and jumped, including you, as you covered your face with the pillow. There was a chuckle to your right as Alastor was laughing, at both the movie and your adorable reactions. From the start of the film, Al was seeking glances at you, wondering what your next reaction would be. The face you made when the dread set in was highly entertaining to him. However, he did pity you a bit, as he could see that the movie was frightening you tremendously. Unbeknownst to you, you felt someone drape their arm behind your shoulders, pulling your body closer towards them. Looking up from the pillow, it was clear that it was Al who had done it. His eyes were still watching the movie, clearly enjoying the gruesome moments. Not saying a word, you continued to watch the movie, but the feelings of fear had diminished a bit due to Alastor's actions. The movie had finally ended, as the credits began to flash on the screen. Everyone gave a sigh of relief, except Al . Clapping with glee, he found the movie quite invigorating. Vaggie rolled her eyes at him, while whispering "creepy weirdo" under her breath. It had gotten super late, so it was time to head for bed.
Wishing everyone a good night sleep, you carried yourself back to your room, despite the prickling sensation that you felt crawling up your back. That movie was still on your mind, but you tried to push the fear away. Alastor was following from behind , since the both of you were next door neighbors. "Feeling alright, my dear? That picture show had you shaking like a leaf!" He was definitely smirking when he said that. "No s✪✪✪, Sherlock." Grumbling your response back at him, you continued to make your way to your cozy abode. Having arrived at the door, you turned to Al, who had just arrived at his door. "Good night, Alastor." "You as well, my dear!" Making over to the bed, you laid down and got under the covers, adjusting yourself to get comfortable. It took a while, but the droopy feeling had taken effect on your eyes, and you fell into a deep sleep. Pitch blackness was all around you. The muscles in your body felt like they had been ripped apart. The air felt heavy, almost dry like you were underground. Something was moving around you, circling you, watching you. The monstrous sounds it made created a haunting echo. You begged your body to respond, it was no use. The sounds were coming closer. No. NO! You bellowed out a scream.
"Y/N!!" Someone was shaking you, causing your eyes to snap open. Your body was shaking and there were tears in your eyes. You slowly realized that you had a nightmare. Alastor was in front of you, hands on top of your shoulders. His glowing eyes eyeing you with concern, yet his smile was still present. "A-Al? W-what's wrong? W-why are you in m-my room?" Struggling out a response, your eyes looked at Al in confusion. "My dear, I had heard your shrieks of terror and rushed over! It appeared you were having a nightmare! A rather horrible one at that!" He was still holding on to you, which gave you some comfort. "Oh, I'm so sorry if I disturbed your sleep." Taking in a few deep breaths, helped tremendously as you were able to talk properly and control the shaking. Shaking his head, Al had let go of your shoulders, and moved his hands to your cheeks. "Darling, there is no need for you to apologize! But, may I ask what were you dreaming about?" Massaging your cheeks like a cat, Al smiled down at you, softness in his eyes. Explaining it in full detail, Al realized that the film you had witness, was the main cause of the night terror. He had known that you were scared, but not to the point it would result in you kicking and screaming in your sleep. He needed to rectify this.
"Come along, my dear!" Your body left the sanctity of your bed, and ended up in Alastors arms. He was carrying you like a bride. "W-what Al?! Where are you taking me?!" Whispering at him, while your brain was trying to wrap around this situation. Cocking his head to the side, he gave you an optimistic smile. "To my room!" There was no time to refute back as the both of you had arrived at his door. Creaking loudly, the door to his room had opened by itself. His room was like something out of a story book. One side was the normal room decor, illuminated with candle light. The walls were plastered with Alastor's personal trinkets and stag heads. The other side was saturated in moss, tall pine trees looming above. Chirps of crickets could be heard and glowing fireflies were flying around. Eyes widening in amazement, you continued to gaze around the room, earning a laugh from Al. In the center of the room, was an enormous bed, covered in satin sheets and black pillows. "How... How were you able to do this?" You breathed out, as Al placed you on the bed. Raising an eyebrow, he smiled down at you, wagging his finger. "Ah ah ah! A magician never reveals his secrets, my dear!" A thought popped in your head: "Where was he going to sleep." Snapping his fingers, Alastor used his powers to snuff out the flames from the candles, leaving only the fireflies as a source of light. Realization hit you, causing you to jump off the bed, leaving Al staring at you in confusion. "Wait Al! Are you okay with this? Sharing a bed?" Alastor looked at you, head crooked to the side. "Why of course! Are you oppose to the idea? Haven't you had your share of sleepovers with the effeminate spider?" Well yes you had, but this situation was different. "I'm not opposed to it, but I don't want you to do something you aren't comfortable with." You told Alastor this, rubbing your arm with your hand.
He was still befuddled by your statement until he began to wrap his head around of what you were saying. How charming you were! Thinking of him and his aversion to physical contact. "Darling, There is no need to worry." His body moved to crawl under the covers, sitting on the bed and looking at you. His finger pointed towards you, beckoning for you to return back to the bed. Still hesitant about the whole situation and observing his body language, it came to your decision that he was really okay with it. Your feet carried you back over, and slowly made its way under the covers, plopping your head on the pillow. Al huffed, a little annoyed that you didn't follow his instructions. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards him. Your head was engulfed in his chest, feeling his chin, nuzzling it. "Comfortable, Y/N?" A warm breath whispered into your ear. His voice sent chills down your back, while also causing your heart to skip a beat. "Mmph" was your response, as your mouth was muffled against his chest. Hearing a hum from above, you felt Alastor nestle closer, hooking his leg over yours. The static emanating from him had quieted down and the thumping sound of his heart sounded much clearer. Extending out a yawn, your eyelids began droop while listening to the calming sound of Al's heartbeat. Soon, your eyelids had closed and you fell into a deep sleep.
Managing to stay awake, Al had watched you, making sure you were able to relax. He never in a million years thought he would be doing something like this. He was the radio demon, the most fearsome and all powerful overlord. Everyone trembled in fear from the sight of him, yet here he was now, cuddling you in his bed. He was getting soft, which displeased him greatly, yet he couldn't help but find it comforting as well. Your very-being was changing him, in both a good and bad way. Sighing, he pushed his thoughts away as he had a busy schedule tomorrow and needed to be well rested for his broadcast. Nuzzling closer, Alastor hugged you tighter. His glowing eyes dimmed and he had fallen asleep as well.
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2hightocare · 10 months ago
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NO NUT NOVEMBER.
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Synopsis: Jungkook didn’t think stuff through when he made a bet for “No Nut November” he seemed to forget that he can’t say no to you.
Pairings: dilf!jungkook x fem!reader
Warnings— SMUT! cussing, kind of drunk sex?, dirty talk, anal, squirting, spanking, size kink!!!!, jk is pussy whipped, jk eating you out, fingering, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it up!!) rough sex!!, crying from pleasure, hair pulling, fluff at the very end,
a/n: someone lock me the fuck up… this is in the KUWTB universe, jus wanted to get into jk and oc sex life more… enjoy🥹🤍
m.list
“I am not betting a thousand on Jungkook for no nut; November be fucking for real; he’s going to lose twenty minutes in.” Namjoon says knowing his friend and knowing how you have him wrapped around your pinky will have him losing money.
“I can go a whole month without sex, motherfuckers.” Jungkook gasps, running a hand through his wet hair from his previous shower.
It was Halloween night, and the boys just came back from accompanying Iseul and Ye Joon trick or treating down the neighborhood.
“I’m taking my baby to the rich neighborhoods so she can get the full-size candy bars.” Jungkook squeezes Iseul's cheeks, trying to avoid the cute bunny face paint you had drawn on. Your husband, without thinking twice, matched her outfit with the big fluffy bunny ears on the top of his head, bobbing on his head whenever he would move around.
"You literally live in a rich neighborhood.” Ari scolds, sending Jungkook's arm flying up in his defense.
"Trust, I won’t fuck up!” Jungkook defends himself while the boys have a hard time believing him; the boys only sighed before agreeing.
 
Jungkook couldn’t do it; his dick immediately hardened as he saw you walking down the stairs in your playboy bunny costume, the small black leather skirt that barely covers your ass, and your black thong visible to everyone. The black long-sleeve crop top and the bunny ears had him stressing and wishing he wouldn’t have made that bet.
“Fuck, you look beautiful, baby." Jungkook wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you in possessively. His hand lowered to your ass before giving a soft squeeze; you didn’t even bat an eye.
“Thank you, my love.” You give him a quick peck before looking down at his all-black outfit. “You look handsome, daddy,” you wink before walking to the kitchen where Eunbi and Jia were.
You had taken a new habit of calling Jungkook Daddy a joke, and he knew that, but right now the word just worsened the hard problem he has in his pants.
It’s around three in the morning now, and the house is a mess. Iseul is staying with your mother-in-law, who volunteered to take care of her for the night. You were definitely drunk; Ari and Lora came in the house already fucked up, and them being bad influences made you and all the girls take shot after shot, so here you were dancing in your living room as the guys sat on the couch watching you all.
“I think I might owe you all a thousand." Jungkook sighs at his friends. Who’s head snaps at him in shock? “You fucking lost already; are you serious? It's been like three hours!?” Seokjin gasps, and Jimin giggles beside him.
That’s when everyone pulls their wallets and drops wads of cash in Jimin's hands. “I fucking told you he wouldn’t last." Jimin snickers as he counts the money in his hands.
“You guys have no faith in me! I haven’t done anything."Jungkook whispers the last part, "Oh." Jimin says he is disappointed before handing the money back to the corresponding boys.
“Then why do you say that?" Hoseok sighs, putting the hundred back in his wallet before tucking it in his back pocket.
“She’s dressed as a playboy bunny!! A sexy ass playboy bunny.” Jungkook whispers, “Please come on; you would fuck y/n in a garbage bag.” Yoongi says, before sending a signal to Eunbi to stop drinking, to which she only nods 'no', making Yoongi stand up and march her way.
“She would look good in anything—better without anything, actually.” Jungkook says as he sees you down, another shot making him shoot up his seat.
“No more alcohol for you, baby.” He takes the shot glass out of your hands, putting his arm around your waist to keep you stabilized. "Babyyy,” you pout, looking up at him, fisting his shirt, and pulling him closer to your face. 
“What princess?” He says softly, your faces almost touching each other; he can smell the alcohol. “I’m so drunk.” You slur with a goofy smile on your face, gripping onto his shoulders, raising your legs behind you, and reaching for your heel, making you stumble backwards just for Yoongi and Jungkook to stabilize you.
"Yeah, we’re leaving,” Yoongi says as he holds onto Eunbi, who’s slurring a bunch of nonsense, “but I don’t want to leave!" Eunbi whines as Yoongi chuckles as he drags her to the front door.
“We should leave too, then,” all the boys say, standing up and wishing everyone goodbye. “Let’s go, my love,” Taehyung tells Ari, who’s lying on the ground, her police officer outfit long gone, replaced with the big t-shirt you had handed her earlier.
"Nooo, I want to stay with y/n!” She gets picked up by Taehyung, who shushes her with a kiss. “You reek like alcohol,” he chuckles before giving Jungkook a head nod and walking out, Jimin and Namjoon following behind them, being the last ones out, the rest long gone.
Jungkook lays you on the couch, kneeling down, unstrapping your heels, and taking them off before kissing the top of your shin. Making you moan in relief.
“My feet hurt so bad!” You whine loudly before bringing your feet into your chest, making your skirt ride up, giving Jungkook a perfect view of your covered pussy. 
He wanted nothing to open your legs, put your panties aside, and eat you out at that moment, but one, you were drunk, and two, the stupid bet he made yesterday. So instead of doing all that, he stood up and made his way to the main door, locking it before making his way back to you, taking his dirty shirt off in the process.
“You are so hot... Could you maybe have my baby?” You pout, looking up at him, who’s hovering over you with a smile on his face. “You already had my baby, princess.” He chuckles at you, making grabby hands up at him.
“Then another one?” You slur with the goofiest smile on your face as he picks you up, your legs immediately wrapping around his torso as your arms wrap around his neck. “You would slap yourself if you heard yourself right now, baby.” He laughs as you snuggle your face into his neck. 
“If it’s a girl, what would we name her?” You slur your words as Jungkook starts making his way upstairs to your guy's room. “I don’t know, princess, do you know?” He asks you, taking one step at a time. 
“I like Nabi," you giggle. “I like Nabi.” Jungkook repeats after you, giving your puffed-out cheek a wet kiss. “And if it’s a boy, we can name it Junior.” Jungkook suggests entering your guys room.
“Ew no!” You shake your head, sticking your tongue out like you just ate something disgusting. “That’s offensive; you don’t like my name?” Jungkook puts you gently on the bed, crossing his arms in front of him, making his muscles flex as he watches you bite your lip while you look up to him.
“Of course I do. It’s just that’s the name I scream out when I’m getting railed. I don’t want my son to have that name." You shiver from the thought, leaving Jungkook speechless from your boldness.
“Y/n!” He chokes out, "What? I’m being honest!” You slur, trying to put your shirt over your head, only to get stuck with your hands up in the air. “Help me!" you whine.
Your husband laughs immediately, helping you take your shirt off before throwing it somewhere in the room. He watches you struggle to reach behind you to unclip your bra. 
“Turn around, baby; let me help.” He orders, and who are you to say no?
“Mkay,” you say, turning around and letting Jungkook unclip it with his hand, making your bra drop onto the bed. And with that, you fall face-first into the bed. "Yeah, no, get up. We need to brush your teeth and take your makeup off. Come on.” Jungkook picks up your frame as you whine loudly. 
As Jungkook drags you to your guy's shared bathroom in only your skirt, Jungkook sets you up on the sink, and you bring your knees up against you again, making Jungkook want to run into a wall.
Seeing you with your smudge eyeliner and mascara has his thoughts running wild. You are topless, and the tiniest skirt he has ever seen you wear has him imagining how he could bend you over, lift your skirt up, and fuck you raw.
He shakes his thoughts off, getting your light pink toothbrush and lathering it with toothpaste before passing it to you. You lazily brush your teeth with your eyes closed, making small sounds at random times as Jungkook brushes his teeth as well.
“I'm dizzy.. My head is spinning.” You giggle as toothpaste is still in your mouth before spitting it out. Jungkook makes a little bowl with his hand, putting his palm underneath the water and accumulating a good amount before bringing it into your mouth, which you then swish around your mouth before spitting it out into the sink.
“All done," you clap your hands, trying to get off the counter.
“You need to take your makeup off; where are your makeup wipes?” Jungkook asks as he goes through all your skincare and makeup.
“How the fuck do you know what a makeup wipe is?" You slur, your brows furrowing, as you wrap your arms around your legs and up your chest. “Baby what?” Jungkook laughs at your question, knowing he has taken off your makeup countless times before this one.
“I'm mad now.” You pout, pushing your husband's hands off your knees. "Baby, please, I have only taken your makeup off. I promise." Jungkook raises his pinky, which you only glare at.
“Did you fuck her in the legs-up position? Because that’s our position.” You slur once again, making Jungkook chuckle in front of you.
“Baby, trust me, I would not fuck anyone in any position that isn’t you,” he reassures as you stare at his pinky that’s still in the air. “Okay,” you pout in defeat, interlocking your pinky with his.
“You can’t be lying because that’s a pinky promise,” you warn. “Of course, baby,” he says, giving you a kiss on your forehead before opening the small packet. “Be gentle," you whine as you stare at your shirtless boyfriend, who takes a wipeout.
He only nods, holding your neck like a necklace to keep your head straight, and starts taking off your makeup. “I’m hungry,” you say as your eyes flutter closed.
“It’s three in the morning, princess; there's nothing open right now.” Jungkook smiles at your scrunched-up expression. “Did you eat all the cookies?" You peek your eye open. “Maybe..” Jungkook whispers, dropping the dirty wipe in the trash can beside him.
“What! You don’t even share with me anymore.” You mumble as Jungkook picks you up and makes his way to your shared bed, dropping you on it. “I share everything with you, baby,” he says as he undoes his pants to slide into bed with you.
You stare at your husband through your eyelashes as you struggle to take off your skirt. “Need help?” Jungkook chuckles under breath as his pants fall to the ground, leaving him in only a pair of black boxers, his print clearly visible.
"Mhm," you nod, biting your lip as you tilt your head to the side to get a better view in between his pants as he reaches for the zipper on your skirt, pulling it down. "Up, baby,” he orders. You do as he says and raise your bottom up, letting him pull your skirt off, leaving you in your thong.
Jungkook drops the skirt on the floor as he watches you lying on the bed with nothing but the black piece of clothing covering your center. His breath rises as he watches you reach between your legs and move your panties to the side, giving him a perfect view of you.
“I’m so wet, baby, help me,” you whine as you run a finger through your drenched slit. "Baby, I can’t,” he hushes as his dick twitches in his briefs. 
“I’m not that drunk anymore, I promise.” You mumble, giving your pussy a little slap. “Fuck,” you moan.
Jungkook very much wanted nothing but to slam into you in this exact moment, but did he really not have self-control when it came to you? He thought to himself.
"Please... if not, I’ll just fuck myself with my fingers.” You giggled, bringing your index and middle fingers up to your mouth, sucking and twirling your tongue on the tips, all while remaining eye contact with your husband, who’s fighting with himself whenever he wants to control himself or fuck you into the mattress.
But when Jungkook saw you insert a finger, he realized he didn’t have self-control when it came to you, and actually, he could give zero fucks about it, plus one thousand was nothing compared to you.
“Fuck it!” Jungkook grabbed a hold of your hands before pinning them up to your head, making you giggle loudly. “Hi.” You giggle as his face is just a few inches away from yours, and his eyes scan your face. “Hi.” He chuckles and smashes his lips against yours.
You moan softly as he wastes no time inserting his tongue into your mouth. His tongue glides along yours, making noise each time you part apart to breathe. Jungkook abandons your lips, moving to your neck, licking, sucking, and blowing.
“I want to eat you out,” he mumbles into your neck between sucking, leaving purplish red marks. He slowly makes his way down your body, all while remaining in eye contact with you. You use your elbows to prop yourself up, getting a clear view of your husband between your legs.
He chuckles, blowing a kiss to your clit making your hips buck forward, a choked moan leaves your mouth. “You’re dripping for me." He runs a finger through your puffy slit, spreading your arousal all over your pussy. 
You feel your wetness ooze down to your puckered hole and maybe even to the gray sheets underneath you. Jungkook tauntingly hovered over your aching center. “Please, fuck,” you buck your hips up again, making him pin you down.
Jungkook gives your cunt a long and slow lick, “shit.” You whine, your legs squeezing around his face, as he starts lapping on your clit, swirling and sucking. His saliva and your juices mixing together.
He pushes your legs up, spreading your pussy more for him. As he continues to suck harshly on your clit your fingers rake in his hair, pulling roughly whenever he would non-stop flick his tongue on your bud, making you shake. "Fuck, you’re going to make cum.” Your eyes roll back into your head.
Jungkooks cock is painfully hard in his briefs; he shifts from his position in hope to relieve some of the pressure, but it only twitches in return. Your husband brings his tattooed fingers in front of your face and says, "Suck.” He orders, and he doesn't have to ask twice.
You grab ahold of his hand and insert his three large fingers into your mouth, twirling your tongue on the tip and sucking like you would if you were on your knees in front of him.
A rush of blood rushes to his cock as he watches you suck on his fingers. You pop his fingers out of your mouth.
He tugs on your clit one last time before rubbing your sensitive bud slowly. You choke out a moan.
Jungkook inserts one of his finger pumping it in and out of your gummy walls, sending you back into the mattress. “Fuck yes,” you cry. He inserts a second finger, pumping them out quickly, curling them inside you, and hitting your spot each time. You grip tightly onto the sheet as you start to feel dizzy. “I’m coming, shit shit shit,” you cry out. You try to push Jungkook off you as he slides his fingers in and out of you repeatedly, with his tongue flicking your clit sending you over the edge.
Your mouth hangs open as your body shakes uncontrollably. Your pussy clenches around Jungkook's fingers. A rush of fluid squirts out of you, leaving you shaking and gasping for air.
“pretty.” Jungkook chuckles under his breath, giving your pussy a small slap and making you whine from the overstimulation.
Jungkook stands up, watching you squeeze your legs together with your eyes closed and chest heaving. “You good, baby?” He leans over, kissing your face over and over again until you peek your eyes open, and you giggle nonstop.
“Fuck!” You giggle, making Jungkook raise an eyebrow. “So good,” you giggle, “yeah?” He smirks, leaning in to give you a kiss.
“Mhm.” You nod, kissing him back. “Let me return the favor.” You reach for his huge hard on, squeezing.
“Let me just fuck you.” He whispers into your mouth as you giggle in response.
“Okay.” You nod. Jungkook slowly stands up from the bed as you watch him push down his briefs, letting his cock spring free. He grabs ahold of the base, giving it a squeeze, and runs his thumb along his aching red slit before walking closer to you. You bite your lip in anticipation, and you feel yourself getting wetter by the second.
He spits down, letting his saliva drip down onto his cock before giving it two pumps, “legs up. ” He taps your thigh for you to do as he says.
You giggle, pushing your legs up, giving your husband an amazing view of your drenched spread out, dripping core.
“Fuck,” he says, aligning himself with your hole and slapping his cock on your pussy multiple times. "Shit, ah,” you moan, digging your nails into your thighs.
Jungkook watches as you clench your pussy over nothing, making his cock twitch. He runs his length over your slit before sliding into you. “Oh shit.” You gasp, biting your lip harshly.
Jungkook has always been too big for you, always stretching you out deliciously every time you had sex. Your pussy always took him so well.
"Shit, shit, shit,” you say, closing your eyes as you feel the burn of him sliding deeper into you. “You can take it, baby.” He hushes, pushing in deeper, and he rubs your clit with his thumb, trying to ease you. 
You can feel him all the way into your belly as he finally is all the way in you. ���You take me so well, fuck, baby.” Jungkook groans as you clench non-stop around him.
"Move, fuck, ah,” you cry. You didn’t have to ask twice, as he started sliding out of your hole before slamming back in. Your nails dig into your thighs, leaving marks as he continues to slide in and out of you repeatedly. 
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he slams roughly into you. His hands push your legs down to your chest as he fucks into you, his cock spreading your walls and his tip hitting your g-spot with each thrust.
Jungkook watches his cock disappear into your messy wet cunt; he watches how you spasm every time he pounds into you; your pussy squirts every time he pulls out; but he doesn’t stop; he continues to slam back in.
Tears stream down your face from the immense pleasure in your core as you reach between your legs, rubbing your clit furiously. “Such a good fucking girl, taking my cock so well.” Jungkook says between gritted teeth, as you only reply with a moan.
“Look at you squirting all over my cock.” He pulls out, spurs of liquid come rushing out of you, and your legs shake as your pussy convulses from each spurt. “Ahh fuck.” You moan as Jungkook rubs your pussy; your hands reach for his, trying to push him away, but failing as you orgasm with a long, loud moan.
“Good girl.” He groans.
“I can't... fuck,” you choke out, trying to catch your breath. "Yes, you can." Jungkook flips you over to your stomach. “Ass up.” He demands giving your ass a spank. 
You bring your ass up in the air, leaving your upper body laying on the bed totally spent. “Fuck pussy, so messy." Jungkook runs his cock through your pussy before sliding back in.
"Shit, this angle fucks me up,” he groans, getting ahold of your waist and squeezing roughly, probably leaving marks, as he slams into you. You dig your head into the mattress, biting onto the sheets, silencing your screams. The wet sound of him pounding into you and your screams are the only things being heard in the room.
“You love being fucked like this, huh?” He moans, pounding into you from behind. You don’t reply. 
He pulls out and pulls your hair up. “Answer me. You love being fucked like this, huh?” He whispers into your ear, your back arched against him.
“Yes.” You cry, and tears stream down your face. “Yes what? Baby.” He chuckles from your disheveled state, “I love being fucked like this.” You stutter over your words; the only thing your brain can comprehend is that you wanted to come again for the third time.
And with that, he lets you go. As you fall back down onto the bed, Jungkook spreads your ass cheeks, watching your pussy and asshole clench over nothing. “Spread open.” He orders you.
Jungkook watches how you do as he says and spread yourself open for him. He takes the base of his cock and aligns himself with your other hole. He rubs over some of your arousal to your asshole, inserting the tip of his cock before pushing the rest of his length inside you, “Fuckk.” You moan loudly, "Relax, baby.” He groans loudly at how tight it is.
This is not the first time Jungkook has fucked your ass, but the stretch of his cock always feels like the first time. He stays for a few moments, still waiting for you to adjust. "Go," you whimper. A green light for him to thrust.
He spreads you open more, watching his cock slip out of your hole before thrusting back in slowly. You moan under him, and you reach under him, rubbing your clit softly as tears run down your cheeks.
“Such a good fucking girl.” Jungkook moans, squeezing your ass and restraining himself from pounding into you at that very moment.
You insert two of your fingers into your pussy, sliding them in and out as Jungkook slides his cock into your ass. "Faster, please,” you whine, fucking your fingers into you as Jungkook speeds up his movements.
Your legs shake barely holding up as he pounds into roughly moaning loudly each time you clench, “You fucking like that?” He chokes out each slam he thrusts into you. “Keep taking it, baby.” His balls slam into your pussy, which each push.
“Fuck so good.” He moans, not stopping his movements. Both of you are sweating as you bite down on the gray sheets, feeling your pussy spasms with liquid with each thrust. “I’m coming.” You shriek,
“Go ahead, baby.” Jungkook's eyes roll to the back of his head, watching you shake underneath him. His body locks up, and black and white spots fill his vision as his dick twitches in you before spilling his seed into you with a loud groan.
“Oh fuck.” Jungkook pants as he slides out of your ass, his come oozing out of you. You fall onto the bed, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you whimper softly from the outstanding orgasm you just went through.
"Fuck, are you okay, baby?” Jungkook makes his way to you, flipping you over to be able to see your face. You whimper softly with your hands covering your face. "Shit, baby, did I hurt you?” He panics, shooting straight up and taking your hands off your face.
He sees the tears streaming down your face, and that sends a blow to his heart. "Baby, where does it hurt?” He scans your body and tries to soothe your shaking legs, rubbing his palms up and down your thighs.
“I’m okay.” You whimper between cries. 
“Then why are you crying, my love?” He pulls you up into a sitting position before kissing your tear-stained cheeks. "felt so good.” You cry. A wave of relief hits Jungkook. "Baby," he chuckles, giving you kisses all over your face.
“I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” You cry as he laughs softly while standing up, finding his briefs on the ground before stepping into them. He goes into your guys' shared closet looking for a pair of underwear for you and one of his shirts.
"Here, baby, let me help you.” He makes his way to you; he sits beside you as he helps you put on your panties and his shirt.
“Do you need anything?” Jungkook asks, putting your hair behind your ear. “No, I'm super tired; I want to cuddle.” You say snuggling under the covers with a big smile on your face, and Jungkook follows in beside you.
The next morning, Jungkook called in for an emergency meeting as he was waiting for the boys to come in. Taehyung arrives first with a guilty expression on his face, and before Jungkook could ask what’s up, Hoseok and Namjoon come striding in. And not long after all the boys started striding in.
“So..” Jungkook starts, “I fucked up.” And with that, he drops a thousand on the table in front of the boys. Nobody moves, and nobody says anything until,
"Oh, thank God, and I thought it was going to be just me." Taehyung drops a wad of cash, with the rest of the boys following along, dropping cash on the table.
“Are you fucking serious!?” Namjoon stares at his friends with his jaw wide open. “Am I the only one who took this seriously?” Namjoon shook his head at his friends.
“Honestly, I don't regret it at all.” Jungkook shrugs.
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pomefioredove · 2 months ago
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may I please request Headcanon of the overblot gang + Adeuce when a reader that’s normally very sweet and shy goes absolutely apeshit and TEARS INTO some bully, absolutely roasting the hell out of them please? Thank you :3
of course anon!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ going apeshit!!!!
type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, ace, deuce, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu
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being the magicless newcomer makes you a favorite target for some of Night Raven College's less kindly students.
your loved ones know this, too, so when a group of brutish first years approach, they're ready to defend you. except...
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Riddle had seen them coming towards you and already had his hand on his magical pen
how stupid of them to pick on you in his presence
a week or two without their heads would serve them well
but before he can even step between you and the ruffians (very gallantly, I might add; he had it all planned out in his head),
you just...
...oh
even he blushes at the profanity you spew
he didn't even get to scold them
...then you turn back to him with that same sweet smile as if nothing had happened
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Ace had actually been the first student to get an earful from you
once at the beginning of the year, and never again
now, he takes great pleasure in watching you verbally eviscerate the other students
it's a... guilty pleasure, we'll say
and Deuce knows not to intervene
he tried... once
after all, he's been in your place before
nothing's better than the feeling of putting some snob in his place
BUT OF COURSE, that's the old Deuce
...he just lets you go on because he knows he can't stop you
...not because he's enjoying it. obviously
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
and here Leona was, thinking you were some helpless little herbivore...
but can you blame him?
you're always so... cute
skipping around Savanaclaw, all happy to be helping out Ruggie and Jack after practice...
you were bound to run into trouble, looking like an easy meal
he almost feels... bad for you...
but before he can step in and tell the freshies to buzz off, you...
damn, you've got a mouth on you
you switch up real quick on them, and they scamper off to go lick their wounds
color him impressed...
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Azul was on his way back to the dorm when he heard you shout
you sounded... upset
and as much as he would like to, he can't just walk by and let you get bullied
damn sympathy...
so, he follows the sound of your voice, ready to intervene... on...
...nothing
a group of embarrassed freshman run past him, scattering in the opposite direction
he steps around the corner
and there you are, perfectly fine, if not a little winded
...of course
and he didn't even get to be your hero... tch
"Always full of surprises, aren't you? Just don't give Floyd any of those new words to use,"
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
it's none of his business... it's none of his business...
until it is his business
Jamil wouldn't have come running to your rescue like some prince
but he is in the middle of a civil conversation with you!
how insulting! honestly!
those freshmen must take him for some kind of witless fool
just this once, he'll teach them not to disrespect him...
of course, he doesn't even get a word in
he's never seen anyone so...
so...
...brutal
your insults are poignant, your tone sharp and dangerous, your usage of puns perfect...
you're like a work of art
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Vil has no problem with putting others in their place
and he has a particular dislike of the brutish, arrogant students at NRC
he can actually sense their unwashed presence in the hall before he sees them
one little snide comment and...
...oh...
oh, my
you verbally tear them to shreds, insulting everything from their shoes to their posture, their cowardice, even their own insults
...goodness
he's going to have to have a talk with you about your language later
but, for now...
...he's enjoying this little performance of yours
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Idia starts the most heated discourse over his faves and biases online, but this is different
this is real life
and the second he can feel a shift in the atmosphere, he's hiding behind you
you can handle it yourself, right? you've done it before!
honestly, he has no clue how you deal with the normies at this school
delusion, probably
he'd die if anyone talked to him the way they talk to...
...NEVER MIND!
you're using words he hasn't even heard in real life
even he is freaked out
you can get real scary when you want to, huh?
...maybe he'll just stick with you for now...
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
poor Malleus
he actually kinda sorta wanted to defend your honor...
he could be your fairytale prince!!! he could!!
it's the gentlemanly thing to do, anyway
and, better yet, he wouldn't even have to say anything! just one glare from him and the perpetrators would run screaming
...the one benefit to his reputation
but, of course,
you are not as innocent and weak as you seem
and he can't help but feel... impressed? with your ability to defend yourself
after this is all over, he'll have to joke that you should join his guard
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satorusdiary · 1 year ago
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dilf!toji being your ex bf
fluff & angst + making up + cuddling + toji not being able to resist you when you look so fragile + toji forever loving you
part 2! - back in love !
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You sent 1:03 am
hey, r u awake?
toji places the cigarette back down on the ashtray, looking at his phone slightly shocked. it’s been months since you and him have had contact, the split up that has happened to your relationship has left a strain in his heart.
why did you text him at this hour? and most importantly, why aren’t you asleep? toji knows how well your sleep schedule usually was.
his friends look at him concerned, the look on toji’s face confusing them even more compared to when he stopped smoking repeatedly just a few seconds ago.
“fushiguro, you good?” satoru questions, patting his friends shoulder as he looks over at his friends phone. he wasn’t able to get a look at the message before toji pulls the phone into a direction that wasn’t able to be seen.
“yeah.. jus’ lemme call someone real quick.” before the rest of his friends could protest, toji is up and walking over to an empty room in the apartment. taking a seat on the bed.
Toji sent 1:09 am
thought i told you to lose my number
now that’s something he wouldn’t text you, he immediately starting regretting sending that message the second you immediately read the message.
you were his sweet little girl. the young woman who he swore he was gonna marry, the one he swore to have kids with.
things were different when he realized how much his life would have an impact on you if you stayed with him.
what’s good about a sweet girl who has a bright future getting with a older man selling illegal substances, that could send him to jail for years and years.
yeah not good at all.
toji knew what’s best for you, and if it meant him not being with you then it was worth it.
because he loved you, and would do physically anything in his power for you to have the best in life.
You sent 1:09 am
i know, i just need someone to talk to rn. i’m sorry
his heart weeps, you still want his comfort even after he has completely broke you, and your relationship with him.
he should be in jail for just breaking you in general.
toji sighs, not knowing how to reply. he wants to comfort you, yet he wants to push you away from his life. push you away from the trouble and the dangers that could happen to you.
he thinks you have given up until you text him 3 minutes later.
You sent 1:12 am
can i call you, please toji?
he couldnt deny it. he just couldnt. his love for you was simply unbreakable even if you weren’t together anymore.
his friends out in the living room are most likely concerned and worried for toji, but that’s the least of his problems. he needs to know if you’re okay, if you’re hurt.
‘incoming call from Toji’
he swears his heart skips a beat when the call goes through.
toji is not one to get nervous. especially with anything in general. but when it came to you, everything comes crashing down. when it comes to you, toji is willing to do anything for you, because you were his girl. his love.
“..hi” your voice is shaky, it seems you’re nervous as well. could he blame you though? this was the first time in months he has actually spoke to you.
“hey.” he replies, hoping you wouldn’t notice the weak tone in his voice as he spoke.
there’s a moment of silence, and soft breathing from your end before toji speaks up.
“are you ok? why’d you call me.”
it’s harsh, his tone is harsh. your eyes begin watering, and you hope he doesn’t notice.
“i-i am just having trouble sleeping, that’s all. ‘wanted your company atleast to calm me down.” your tone has a small strain, as if you were crying for hours before you called him.
it was as if he was able to see your puffy eyes through the screen, he could just imagine it now.
“there’s something else, hm? c’mon tell me, y’know i won’t judge.” especially with you. is what he wanted to say as-well, but he couldn’t get to soft with you now. he couldn’t.
he hears a sniffle from your end, feeling his heart clench once more. as if his heart is dropping to the bottom of his stomach.
“okay.. t-truth is i usually sleep better with you ‘round. but since you’re gone, ‘ts been kinda rough. i just wanted to call you for once, to see if it would help..” you confessed, voice breaking down in between sentences.
toji has an urge to put you down, and hang up. but he couldn’t, how could he resist you? especially after everything he has put you through.
the bracelet on his wrist that has your initials come into his vision. you had made this for him when he was sick, he has never took it off ever since.
“y’want me to come over? not gonna make contact, jus’ gonna be there til you sleep.” he says calmly, he swore he could’ve heard you sigh in relief.
“mhmm, yes please..” you’re still polite, his sweet girl is still sweet around him. that’s what he misses with you.
“alright’ be there in 10. jus know i’m never doin this shit again, kay?” he says harshly, too harsh.
you sniffle again, he could tell your frowning and having tears drop on your phone screen. his heart strings get tugged, and he calms his weeping heart.
he’s hurt you once again.
the call ends before you could say anything else, and he’s out of the bedroom quickly taking his keys. his friends look at him concerned.
“yo, you good?” suguru comments, looking up at his friend who was ready to leave the apartment.
“where you going?” satoru also questions.
toji shakes his head, letting out a deep sigh as he turns to look at his of friends once again.
“gonna be gone for a bit, see ya tomorrow?” he waves them off, and goes out the door before they could reply, or ask anymore questions.
he knows he said he would be at your place by 10 minutes, but he ends up arriving in 5 minutes. quickly at your door step, knocking on the door gently.
just as he predicted, you open the door almost immediately.
when he looks at you, he swears he could break down then and there. on your door step.
your eyes are puffy, you’re wearing his hoodie that he “accidentally” left at your home, and there were dried tear stains on your puffy cheeks.
he wanted to kiss your cheeks badly, and cradle you in his arms. but he resisted.
thats before you crash into his arms, immediately breaking down. hugging him tightly as if he was going to disappear again.
toji breaks, he can’t handle the cold act around you any longer.
“y/n? what’s wrong baby? speak to me..” toji coo’s, his harsh tone disappeared. you automatically feel comfort from his nice tone, something you missed.
there he is, the sweet older boyfriend you have always missed. the man who was your home, your protector, your everything.
“‘missed you s’much toji. miss being with you and megumi, i-i can’t sleep without thinking about how i could’ve been better for you.” you stutter repeatedly.
it was no lie that megumi missed you as well. the boy who is only 3 years old can not go a night without asking where you were, if you were coming back to him without breaking down. because you made the little boy feel loved.
toji’s heart breaks, now he notices how selfish he has been. yes he was protecting you, but he also broke you so much. regret seeps into his body, he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tightly.
“‘s not your fault sweets, you were more than enough for me. c’mon, let’s go to bed.” he murmurs, picking you up bridal style and walks towards your bedroom. the door behind him shutting closed.
the photo of you both happily together was still on your night stand, toji’s heart breaks for the millionth time in the past hour.
his side of the bed was cold, as if you never slept on it. that’s because it felt wrong sleeping on that side, knowing it once belonged to him.
you continue crying as you’re placed on the bed, still in toji arms. he’s careful with you, placing kisses on your face and rubbing your body to give you his heat.
“i-i miss you.. s’much.” you repeat, looking up at him for the first time with clear sight. tears drying back on your cheeks.
he gives you a sad smile and kisses both of your cheeks, sticky with tears.
“i miss you more sweetheart, missed my little girl s’much.. ‘l’ll explain everythin to you tomorrow, kay?” he questions, caressing your cold cheek.
the smile you give him is sad, but could easily melt the coldness in his heart.
after you nod he places a kiss on your lips, before pulling you closer, your head on his chest while is head is rested on top of yours.
the night goes by, and your soft snores fill the room. toji’s eyes are still glued onto the photo of you both, looking so happy, so dumb and in love.
he is gonna make that happen again, only for you. he’d figure out everything else soon, his priority was now you.
“i love you, missed you more than anything. baby.” he whispers quietly, placing one last kiss to your temple before drifting off to sleep.
for the first time in months he is able to sleep with no bad feelings, or any nightmares.
that is because you’re by his side, by his side to push away all the bad thoughts. by his side to make him feel loved again.
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Jujutsu Kaisen masterlist
part 2 - back in love !
a/n: don’t mind typos pls, it’s like 3:47 am😭😭
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 3 months ago
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
Summary: Lt. Riley sure has been taking a lot of smoke breaks lately. Strange that you always seem to disappear at the same time too.
Author's Note: Just a quick little one shot I came up with to get me back into the swing of things and give you all a little snack for what's to come.
“Again?” Soap questions as he watches the lieutenant stand up from the back of the table, cigarette pack in hand. “Ye have a real problem mate. Swear yer married te those things these days, always havin’ te go out fer another smoke. Ye should get some help fer yer addiction, L.T.”
Lt. Riley doesn’t stop to reply, moving his chair back in without missing a beat. “Maybe I’m just tryin’ ta have an excuse to fuckin’ leave so ya can’t persuade me into stayin’ for more of your inane drivel,” he returns dryly. “ ‘Sides, it’s gettin’ late.”
Soap rolls his eyes skeptically at the statement. “Whatever ye say,” he chuckles, brushing off the comment like nothing and letting the lieutenant walk off without consequence, something rare for the mouthy sergeant, but Lt. Riley is too preoccupied to pay it much attention.
From your place at the table, you carefully sneak glances to watch as the hulking form of your superior locks eyes with you for only a second before he makes his way over to the door of the mess hall and opens it to step out into the night air. You force yourself not to linger too long in his direction, redirecting your attention back to your fellow operatives that still sit around you chatting even though dinner had ended some time ago.
It doesn’t take long for the conversation to pick right back up where it left off, though you stay silent as you slowly try to fade yourself out of the group without anyone noticing your absence. The heated topic of the best explosive types has everyone engaged and you see your opportunity to leave and slip out undetected.
Too bad you don't notice a couple eyes dart your way before they turn back to one another to share a knowing look and a smirk. Yet nothing is said out loud and you make it out with incident.
Stepping out into the cool night, you find it odd that there are no signs of life near the door, no 6’4” military officer propped against the brick smoking. The unexpected absence makes your heart leap, but as you let your eyes adjust to the dark you catch movement off to your side. At the edge of the building you can just make out the dissipating wispy trail of vapor as it floats up towards the sky. Bingo, that’s what you are looking for. Turning your feet in the direction of the smoke, you make your way over, the soles of your shoes crunching over the gravel scattered along the ground and echoing off the walls of the building. You don’t have far to go and as soon as your body rounds the corner, your wrist is grabbed up by long fingers into the palm of a large, rough hand.
You know this grip intimately.
“Lookin’ for somethin’, pretty girl?” the familiar gruff voice hits your ears as your body is pushed back first into the rough surface of the wall.
Tilting your head up, you look directly into that skull-masked face and instantaneously a smile spreads across your lips. “Was looking for someone, actually,” you answer confidently, a bit of playfulness to your tone.
Hooking your thumbs through the front belt loops on his jeans, you pull him in closer so that he is pinned against you. “And wouldn’t you know, I just found him,” you say.
Fuck, did you have to play on his one weakness so early?
“Was wonderin’ when you’d fuckin’ break away,” he chuckles to disguise that fact that your little maneuver has caused his pulse to race violently through his veins.
Those large, greedy hands find their place on the curve of your hips and he wonders if you can feel his thudding heartbeat through his touch as he stands there in the silence with you. He’s waiting patiently for what comes next, the simple ritual you've developed that you put into practice whenever you’re alone together. Right now he is still under the guise of Ghost and only you can bring out the man behind the mask.
Searching his chest to find the neckline of his shirt, you dig your fingers inside and find the edge of the fabric keeping his face hidden from you. You tug at the balaclava to free it before you pull it up and off his features, bunching it together and pushing it to the top of his head so that he wears it like a beanie. And suddenly there he is: not Ghost, not Lt. Riley, but Simon, your Simon in the flesh once again.
“Didn’t want to make it too obvious,” you return as you take him all in, fingertips following the line of his cheek, “the others aren’t that oblivious; they’ll put two and two together if given enough clues. We could get caught, you know. How long till they figure out that I always seem to go missing whenever you go for a smoke?”
There is a coolness on your hip now as one of his hands finds its way around the back of your neck to hold you in place as his thumb smoothly caresses over the delicate skin of your cheek in long, slow strokes. “Don’t care anymore,” he mutters as his gaze lingers at your eyes before they drift down to your full lips. There is a yearning in his chest watching them part as he drags that same thumb heavily across the length and it blooms as he hears the quiet sigh you release at feeling his touch over that sensitive bit of skin.
“It’s gettin’ harder and harder ta keep my hands to myself whenever you’re ‘round.”
He leans in as he holds you steady by the back of the head, his face getting closer and closer until his balmy breath wafts over your bottom lip. It’s intoxicating the way the presence of your mouth lingering just out of reach makes the skin on his tingle with anticipation and he suspends you both in the tantalizing feeling of the moment for a few seconds without speaking, just letting the sensations play out.
The agonizing depth of his need pools in the pit of his stomach, making him clench his hand around your spine as it overwhelms his body. “Don’t wanna have ta keep holdin’ back.”
Being pressed against you, you can easily feel him take in a shuddered breath. “Get such a fuckin’ cravin’ for your lips sometimes it feels like I’m goin’ insane,” he whispers the words into your face, his nose gliding against the tip of your own as his mouth ghosts over yours until you tremble in his grasp as his temptation overwhelms you.
Your heartbeat pounds hard against your ribcage and you can hear it in your head. His intensity is enough to make you dizzy, your vision hazy at best as you are consumed with him and only him. No one has ever had this much control over you, but with Simon it is effortless the way he owns all the free space in your mind so that it takes the most minimal effort to have you falling apart, melting in his hands.
In the shadow of the mess hall, hidden in the dark with just you and him, the world seems to completely fall away. Whatever waits outside that moment for you both is forgotten, pushed aside to make room for the need you share for each other.
“Simon,” you moan his name, your eyes fluttering closed as your desperation overtakes you and leaves you begging for him to break the distance still between you.
God, the way his name falls so sweetly from your lips makes him just as feral now as it did the first time he heard you use it. He is insatiable in the way he is willing to do anything just to hear you say it again.
The air outside tonight is cool, but the atmosphere between your bodies is heated from the sticky, warm breath that you both share between your mouths, the proximity of your bodies, the rise in blood pressure that makes your skin hot to the touch. It’s getting harder to breathe and yet the thought of you pulling away from him before he can get his fill of you is torture.
“Swear I’ve never missed someone tha way I miss ya when I have ta stay away,” he says, followed quickly by a groan into your face as you place your palm on his sternum to feel the weighty rise and fall of his broad chest.
Your touch is exhilarating and suddenly his whole body is aroused as if struck by lightning. Unintentionally, his hips move on instinct and begin to grind into yours, the growing bulge in the crotch of his pants making him desperate for more friction and you immediately meet his need with your own. That last shred of his sanity is waning fast the more you both rub yourselves against each other until out of the haze filling his mind and distracting him from his goal he finally finds the last bit of clarity to speak before he completely falls apart.
“Christ, I will never get enough of ya, sweetheart.” And with a brief pause, Simon inhales and leans in hungrily to capture your lips with his.
His mouth dominates your own with urgency, as if at any moment you will be snatched from his hands and he will be left starving for the sensation of your mouth tangling with his.
Your back is slammed into the uneven texture of the brick, jagged bits of clay grating the skin of your back through your t-shirt from the force of your lieutenant aggressively capturing your mouth over and again. Sweet spit and heated lips mingling as he insatiably devours your kiss to leave a wreck of flesh behind on the lower half of your face that only burns for more of his embraces.
Shrouded in the dark your bodies melt together with yours being swallowed by the bulk of his, those bulging muscles along his abdomen pressing into you, pinning you to the wall until you can hardly catch your breath. You hold onto him to keep him from drifting, two tight fists balled up with his shirt as your need overwhelms every sense in an intensity that is shared like an electrical current through your bodies.
Large, coarse hands cup around your face, tilting your head upward to him as his tongue juts out from between his teeth and over his lips to prod against yours until you open your mouth and allow him to shove it in. That thick muscle fills the cavity full as he explores, feeling you, tasting you, memorizing the inside of your mouth. The nicotine on his breath is still pungent from the cigarette that is glowing discarded on the ground at your feet, its sharp notes dancing over the surface of your taste buds as you suck on his tongue.
His knee finds its way between your legs, pressing up into the wall behind you so that the bulk of his thigh is pushed against the mound of your sex, giving you access to something you can ride as your desire intensifies. The stimulation is like a catalyst and without hesitation you begin to roll your hips into it.
Simon is pawing desperately at your clothing to get beneath it and make contact with as much soft, warm skin as his hands can enjoy when a sudden loud clang somewhere close by breaks you both out of the spell of your lust. Two heads return side to side in search for the source of the noise, only to find that nothing is out of place. But the moment is broken and you are both now fully aware of how exposed you are just out in the open.
“Meet at mine after lights out, yeah?” Simon says through heavy panting, holding your face cupped between his hands as he struggles to gain back his composure, at least enough to cross base without drawing attention to himself and the bulge straining against the front of his jeans.
You nod, scrambling to regulate your own quick breathing.
He quickly pulls your face back in for one more feverish kiss before releasing you, pulling down his mask, and briskly heading off into the night. It's still about an hour you have left to wait and though you know that it isn't that long in the grand scheme of things, as you clench your thighs together, you know it won't come soon enough.
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esoomris · 2 years ago
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for some reason my computer HATES letting me listen to the audio from resident evil, which sucks because that’s how I know if there’s a zombie
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benevolentbones · 5 months ago
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newcomer | spencer reid x fem!reader
part 2
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warnings: derek being derek.
word count: 0.5k ish
summary: you come to the bau to drop off some things
pls pls pls send any requests you have, im itching to write more but need plot suggestions!!
“who’s that?” quizzed elle.
all eyes were on the new face that stood at the door by the bullpen. you stood there, a binder wrapped tightly in one arm, and a brown paper bag clutched in the other. a black pencil skirt adorned your form complemented with a white button up. you stood there with you hair pushed neatly away from your face, your eyes scanning the room for something.
“i’ve never seen her before- is she new?” jj tilted her head slightly.
“i don’t know but she looks good.” morgan chuckled to himself earning a dig from elle.
“leave her alone she looks like a baby.” elle frowned.
spencer who had his head in a book until now, scanned the room, his hazel gaze fixing on you. there was something familiar about you that he couldn’t quite put a finger on.
“she looks around my age.” reid muttered, joining the rest of the team in studying the newcomer.
“exactly. a baby.” elle smirked at spencer’s defeated expression.
spencer shook his head, earning a pat on the shoulder from derek.
you scanned the room once more, suddenly growing nervous when you spot several sets of eyes on you. you inhaled sharply, shuffling over to the group of profilers in hopes they would direct you to where you needed to go.
“she’s coming-act natural.” morgan practically smacked spencer, quickly sitting up straight from his previous slumped position next to the young genius.
“excuse me- would any of you know where jason gideon’s office is?” you smiled politely, chewing on the inside of your cheek.
your eyes met spencer’s and a light blush dusted over your cheeks.
“just up- up those stairs and to the right.” spencer internally cursed as he stuttered out directions.
“thank you so much.” you gave him another shy smile, nodding to the others before you turned, sauntering away to gideon’s office.
“real smooth, pretty boy.” derek shot spencer a shit eating grin, the older man slinging an arm around the blushing mess that was dr. spencer reid.
a few minutes later, everyone had gotten back to their respective reports, spencer was scribbling away at lightning speed, his interaction with you playing in the back of his mind.
over the low mumbling throughout the bullpen, the door to gideon’s office could be heard shutting. the special agent walking down the steps with you in tow. you were making quiet conversation, the binder and paper bag once in your grasp was gone.
derek leaned over spencer’s desk, all eyes were yet again on you.
you and gideon came to an abrupt stop right by where everyone was congregating.
“thanks again for dropping my lunch, sweetie.” gideon gave you a warm smile before giving you a quick hug which you returned gratefully.
“sweetie?” jj blinked.
“well if i’m too old for her then he certainly is-“ derek was cut off by a stack of case files being dropped onto his desk by none other than aaron hotchner.
“no problem, i’ll see you at home.” you gave gideon another smile before walking away, your eyes meeting spencer’s once more before you left causing his cheeks to burn up.
“that’s his daughter.” hotch scoffed, shaking his head as he walked off.
“daughter?!”
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himbosandhardwear · 5 months ago
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Eddie has a bad habit of picking at his skin when he's nervous. Not, like, shy nervous or stage fright nervous, but the real kind of nervous, not-sure-I’m-gonna-survive-this kind of nervous. Like while he was alone in the boat house, he'd shredded every one of his cuticles. That time Hopper caught him behind The Hawk, very obviously selling his wares, he'd bitten his lips bloody.
Tonight he's picking a scab off his knee. It's practically healed already, so it won't bleed, he just needs to feel something on his body come loose before he does.
“You good, dude?” Steve asks, so in tune to Eddie's nervous disposition. Such a good guy. What a friend.
Eddie lets his head hit his knee caps with a thunk.
“Yup.”
Steve snorts. “You don't look good. I mean… You know what I mean.”
He smiles, tilting his head to look at Steve, always happy to give him a hard time.
“Oh, absolutely. You think I look good, don't cha, Stevie?”
He gets a couch pillow to the face for that, but they're both laughing so he doesn't think he's crossed the line yet.
Yet, yet, yet.
“Seriously, what's up with you? You've been quiet. It makes me want to call the squad.”
“Har har,” Eddie mumbles, but he does uncurl himself, sitting back against the couch again. “I'm trying to work up the nerve to ask for advice but it's-” Christ, he doesn't even want to admit to being embarrassed, that's how embarrassed he is.
“It's what?” Steve asks, the picture of earnest encouragement. “You can talk to me about anything, man, we're, like, bonded in blood or whatever.”
“Right. Yeah. Except this has the potential to get real awkward, real quick, and I'm not sure we're at that level of friendship yet.”
“Well,” he drawls, “if you ask me whatever it is that's got you all flustered I'm sure that will level us up. Right?”
“I'm not flustered.” God damn his red fucking face. Steve just laughs at him. “It's just, I don't have anyone else to ask about this. Jonathan probably doesn't have this particular problem, cause he's got- Uh. Sorry.” Steve waves it away, so Eddie goes on. “The kids are too young and the band guys don't understand what we went through-”
“Eddie, just spit it out.”
“Fuck! Okay, fine! You asked for it.” He takes a giant breath, steels his spine and just says it. “The Trauma is affecting my ability to get laid and I don't know how to fix it. Every time I get close to it I freak out and have to bail.”
There. All out now.
He looks over at Steve, and it's so much worse than being laughed at or pitied. He just looks sad.
He shakes it off quickly, hair barely moving, Eddie notes. He finds Steve's hair routine both endearing and ridiculous.
“Yeah. Okay. That's super common, just so you know,” Steve assures him first. “Robin says it's all connected, your mind and your body, so trauma can, like, get trapped in weird places like that. I can't play baseball anymore. Cause the memory of beating demodogs to death.”
“As you do,” Eddie quips.
“Right. But your thing. Uh. Yeah, it took some time before I could relax enough to even attempt getting laid, let alone actually do it.”
“So?” Eddie drawls, waiting. “How did you get over it?”
Something is off. Steve's not known for being skiddish about sex, but his hesitation and his inability to look Eddie in the eye is setting off alarms.
“Hey, if this is too weird for you-”
“No, I'm good, it's fine. Just, I'm the only person you have to talk to about this, so I'm gonna try to be helpful but, uh,” he scratches at the back of his head awkwardly, “in all honesty, I haven't been laid since before Vecna either. Way before. So. Yeah. Not sure I should be giving out advice on anything.”
That's crazy. Like actually crazy. He can't even compute Steve Harrington not absolutely dripping in women. He must have some look on his face because Steve gives a dry sort of laugh, self deprecating, and leans back against the couch with him.
“Weren't you on a date with Brenda Mulligan the night- Vecna’s first attack?”
Steve shoots him a look. “Y- Yeah, but that didn't go anywhere. We weren't, like, compatible or whatever.”
Oh, yeah, it was weird that Eddie knew that at all, let alone remembered it nine months later. “That's too bad,” he replies lamely.
“Yep.”
He feels terrible for dragging down the whole night, it would've been better if he'd just kept his mouth shut. But that's never been his strong suit, as evidenced by him blurting out, “If the hottest guy in Hawkins can't find a suitable date, what fucking chance do I have.”
Steve snaps, “Don't say that. What the fuck?”
Great, now he's gone and made it weird. Good job calling your straight friend hot, you fuckin’ dipshit.
They sit in the awkward silence, out of things to say or out of useful things to say. Either way it's them breathing, the clock ticking, and the M.A.S.H. rerun playing softly in the background.
Steve clears his throat. “Whatever, let's get back to the point. You don't have to tell me if you don't want but…what do you think the specific reason is for your…issue?”
He thinks about it. Has been thinking about it, for a while now. “My dick still works, if that's what you're wondering.”
Steve chuckles, high and surprised. “Good for you.”
“Yeah. It's more like, I can't get out of my head. I start worrying about my scars, explaining them if someone asked. I think about how even though I don't want anything long-term, I wouldn't be able to do long-term anyway, because I'm a fucking mess. If it's really bad, I'll get flashes of Chrissy or Patrick's bones snapping, as a little soundtrack to the fun shit happening outside my head.”
Steve looks sad again. Maybe it is pity but it looks more turned inward, like he's dealing with his own shit more than Eddie’s.
“You hooking up with strangers then?”
Eddie blinks at Steve. “Well…duh. Right? Not like I have guys lined up around the block here in Hawkins.”
Steve is full blown scowling at the TV. It's weird.
“What if-”
Eddie waits but Steve doesn't finish his thought.
“What if…what?” He prompts, giving a little nudge with his foot.
He's still avoiding eye contact, not even turning his head to look in Eddie's direction.
In a soft voice, almost too quiet to hear, he says, “What if we helped each other out?”
He must've heard that wrong. Or he's misunderstanding.
“What?”
“What if we help each other out? Like, a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
That can't be right. No fucking way. It's a test. Like as soon as Eddie agrees, Steve yells ‘Aha! I knew you wanted to molest me! Goodbye forever!’ and runs out the door.
“What, exactly, do you mean? Like, what are you getting out of it?”
Steve finally looks over. “Well, I would think that was obvious. If you're willing.”
Eddie's legs are starting to go numb.
“Okay, so I blow you and you blow me, except when you're doing it I have to watch you take it like you're being force fed liver and onions at Grandma's house?”
Steve slowly shakes his head no.
“Oh, okay, so you're going to blow me and enjoy it,” he snaps sarcasticaly.
Steve nods once.
“You want to blow me?”
“Mmhmm,” he hums without moving a muscle.
“Since when!” Eddie brings his octave down from the upper atmosphere. “Since when, Harrington? This is insane behavior. Should I call the squad for you? I'm serious. I'll do it.”
“You don't have to say yes. I was just offering.” He says it like Eddie isn't one green flag away from stomping on the gas.
He starts nervously laughing, which makes Steve flinch unfortunately, but he can't stop.
“It's cool, just forget I said anything.” He moves like he's about to get up and leave, which is fucking insane because it's his living room. Eddie stops him with a tight grip around the bicep.
“Don't you dare. If you're even remotely serious, we have to have a much longer conversation. Sit.”
Steve drops like a sack of bricks. Which is…something.
“Right. First off, this is uncommon behavior in a straight friend. Is there something you'd like to tell me, so I don't think you've been body snatched?”
He pinches at the top of his nose, like Eddie is inconveniencing him greatly. Too bad.
“I'm probably bisexual.”
“Probably?” Eddie asks with a raised eyebrow.
“I'm an inexperienced bisexual,” he amends through clenched teeth.
“Good. Great. Happy to hear it.” His heart may explode from his torso à la Ridley Scott's Alien but sure. “Second on the agenda, what do you mean help each other out? What's on the table? Mutual handjobs and then we never talk about it again?”
“No,” Steve answers immediately. That's good. “I'm open to…whatever you're open to.”
“Steve.” He has to clear his throat. “You dont even know what you're agreeing to.”
“I trust you.”
Fuuuuuck.
“Okay, right, uh, let's circle back to that later. Third thing, what, uh, what is your level of commitment with this?”
He just stares at Eddie, all doe eyed. It shouldn't work, Eddie fucking invented that look. It's gotten him out of more scrapes than he can count. Now it's being used against him but to what end? Does Steve want to get bundled up in a blanket and tucked into bed? Because Eddie can make that happen for him.
“Whatever you want, I guess,” he finally says. “I mean, like I said earlier, friends who help each other out. Casual. I'm not interested in looking for Mrs Harrington anymore and you're having a problem relaxing around guys who don't understand what you went through.” He makes a gesture like ‘Ta da.’
He's not wrong. It makes sense. But…
“Fourth thing. Is this just an experiment for you? Cause I'm all for you exploring your sexuality but, historically speaking, friends are a bad place to start.” AKA ‘it will break my fucking heart if you decide you're not that into it and it's because it's me.’
“Eddie. Look.” He gets more comfortable, facing Eddie straight on finally. “What you're going to provide is practical knowledge on what has only been theoretical up to this point, but the theory has already been well established.” He taps his head. “Understand?”
A smug confidence melts Eddie into the couch. “You liiike me,” he sings. “You think about me naaaked. You wanna-”
Steve lands on him, lacking any elegance or grace, and nearly caves their skulls in with his Jay Garrick approach to kissing. Eddie doesn't say a fucking word. He does wonder at the fucking majesty that is making out sober. What a revelation. Steve keeps making these tiny, almost wounded noises, to the point where Eddie tries to back up and do a check in but Steve doesn't let him, he chases him down and latches back onto Eddie's bottom lip like he's Hannibal Lector. It's stupid hot.
Everything is going great until Steve lets out a sound that legitimately has Eddie worried he's upset about something.
He pulls back and asks, “Are you okay?”
“Oh fuck, I'm sorry. I just can't, I can't believe I got this fucking far. You're so hot I'm losing my fucking mind.”
“Me?” Eddie snaps. “Dude, you're out of your mind.” He pokes Steve in his meaty chest. “Literal. Prom. King.”
“Fucking stupid high school shit, are you kidding me?” He sits up, straddling Eddie's hips, which is boner enhancing to say the least; he's got Steve's thighs in his grasp immediately. “You don't get it, I'm gone on you. I've got it bad, man. I was playing it cool earlier-”
“At no point tonight were you in any way playing it cool.”
“-but, fuck it, guess I'm ruining it, cause I can't be cool about this. I don't want casual. I don't even want to date you,” and before Eddie can even worry about that, he says, “I wanna skip straight to boyfriends, man. I know you said you didn't want long term with anyone but-”
Eddie interrupts again, this time by pulling Steve back down horizontal and kissing him like he just bravely declared himself as all in.
If this is a pod-person, well, that's a problem for Tomorrow Eddie. Tonight Eddie just landed Steve Harrington as a boyfriend.
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pierregazly · 6 months ago
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simply a joke ꨄ lewis hamilton
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lewis hamilton x assistant!reader
warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), lewis was pining and reader was oblivious [1.6k words]
request: 🌶 I would request for Lewis Hamilton and [20. “I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard.”]
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The bill was placed down on the table, the waitress giving you a sympathetic look as she openly asked whether it would be cash or card.
“You don’t mind paying right? I’ll forward you the money, just forgot my wallet of course, such a lapse of memory sometimes,” he said, an arrogant smirk on your blind date’s face while he waited for your response.
Humming in acknowledgement, you muttered that it would be on card to the waitress. 
You didn’t give him much of a chance to say anything further, bidding him a farewell the moment the bill was paid, and a denial to a second date. The shock on his face made your smile grow when you whirled around, making the trek towards your car while you contemplated how your life had even got to this point.
A quick text sent off to the only person you actually wanted to see was met with an easy ‘I’ll leave the door unlocked, see you soon’, prompting you to direct your car in the opposite direction of your own home.
Lewis was always happy to have you over, saying more than once you may as well just move in with him with how often you were there anyways. Always shrugging the comment off, you would just laugh and remind him the two of you see each other enough during the week and that you were pretty sure Mercedes would be unhappy with a driver and his team-assigned assistant living together.
“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what they would want, actually? Full access for both of us, love,” Lewis practically had the response memorized, a shove to his shoulder the only answer he ever received to it.
Huffing as you flopped down on the couch next to the Brit, Lewis quirked a questioning eyebrow at you, silently imploring as to what could possibly be creating your current set of emotions.
“I’ve just come back from a date, what an absolute nightmare, Lew. I’ve never met someone who managed to talk about themselves more than that guy. Don’t think I even got a word in,” you complained.
A small chuckle fell from Lewis’ lips, his hand gently patting your knee with a sympathetic expression falling across his face.
“Like… am I the problem, Lew? Be honest, because I’m going insane here, I don’t think I’ve even had sex in months. I genuinely think I’m on the verge of insanity,” you said, practically begging for a response from the Brit.
Huffing, Lewis turned his gaze onto you. Looking you up and down, you felt yourself heat under his gaze. You would never admit it aloud, but you couldn’t deny that the Mercedes driver was borderline gorgeous. 
“I think if all you’re looking for is sex, going on a date in the outfit you’re wearing right now… well it’s not doing you any favours, really.”
Pouting at him, you looked down at your outfit while trying to decipher what was wrong with it.
He continued, “before you start, there’s nothing wrong with the outfit. You look gorgeous, really. But you’ve got the buttons up all the way to the top, the pants aren’t formfitting at all, and you’ve got incredible legs, you just refuse to wear shoes that accentuate them. You’re dressed like you’re going to a business meeting, not like you’re going on a date with the intention of being taken home after.”
He emphasized his words by coming closer, flicking open the top four buttons, allowing the top of your breasts to peak through, the lacy bra you were wearing visible to the open-eye. 
“You don’t get it, Lew. Sure, I could wear a shirt that shows off my breasts, pants that accentuate my ass… but I don’t just want sex. Sure, yes, I want sex… but I want to be taken seriously, I want to be taken on a real date and actually enjoy myself.”
“I could give you both, but you keep denying my offer,” he shrugged his shoulders, turning his attention back towards the television.
Trying to wrap your mind around his words, “You act like your offer is ever serious, Lew. We both know it’s a joke.”
“You’re the one who says it’s a joke and that I’m not being serious. Not sure what else I’m really meant to say that’s going to make you believe me, love,” he said.
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. He had been making jokes like this for years. It was easy to assume they were comments he made with everyone, his personality naturally flirtatious.
Your body moved on instinct, pressing yourself closer to him as you contemplated your next words.
“Can I kiss you, then?”
He didn’t give a response before he was pressing his lips to yours, his hand instantly pressing to the back of your neck, tugging you closer to his body. His lips were soft, his tongue wet as it pressed gently at your lips, begging for an entrance. 
A soft moan fell from your mouth when Lewis pulled your body on top of his, your legs encircling his waist. You ground your core against his, a rumble of a groan falling from Lewis’ own lips, his head falling back against the couch behind him.
“God, baby. I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard, about fucking all of them, I swear.”
The whimper that fell from your lips was unintentional, your body subconsciously grinding down against the hardness growing between his legs; the pit in your stomach growing, the desire for him so prevalent in your actions.
You had never realized how much you truly wanted this, how much you wanted those comments you thought to be jokes, to be real.
“That better not be a joke, Lew,” you moaned, his lips pressing to your neck as he guided your hips back and forth over his lap. 
You felt your back hit the couch, Lewis’ body crawling over top of yours as he began kissing down your body. The buttons on your shirt having come undone at some point making it easier for the Brit to continue his ministrations across your skin.
Looking up at you imploringly, his tattoo-covered hand tugged gently at the waistband of your pants, a silent question in his eyes. You nodded eagerly, lifting your hips slightly so he could tug the offending material off.
He lightly nipped at your hip, pressing a kiss to sooth the heated skin before continuing his actions to the other side. Small love bites, kisses, short presses of his tongue to your skin as he continued to move down your body. Lifting a leg to press a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh, you moaned at the action.
It didn’t take long for your panties to join the discarded pants, his eyes hungrily taking in the display. You couldn’t help the self-conscious thoughts, your legs instinctively closing around his body. 
“Nuh-uh, none of that, pretty girl,” he said, his hands pushing your legs open.
A finger gently pressed to your core, parting your lips as he ran a finger through them, collecting the wetness that was seeping from you. A tiny whimper departed your lips as you watched Lewis bring the finger to his mouth, sucking the collected juices from the digit.
It was like watching a man possessed as he got in between your legs, your hands finding their way to his head as the first press of his tongue resonated throughout your body.
There was no surprise that he was skilled with his tongue, the same way he was skilled with his fingers; the same way he was skilled when he put his mind to anything else he desired success in.
His fingers moved in tandem with his tongue, pressing against the spot inside your core that had you practically keening for him, your hips pressing up against his face; the only thing keeping his mouth from drowning in your wetness was the hand he had pressed to your pelvis, pushing you back down against the bed.
A loud moan fell from your lips as Lewis sucked at your clit, a third finger joining the other two inside you, a squelching sound vibrating throughout the living space as you felt yourself hit your peak.
Your orgasm crashed through you, your legs shaking as Lewis’ fingers and tongue slowed down, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. Your head was still thrown back when you heard the sound of more clothes hitting the floor, your eyes peaking open to a view that had your mouth practically watering.
It was common knowledge that Lewis was an incredible sight. From his hardened muscles, to the pops of ink that covered his body, everyone knew he was gorgeous. But his cock? All you wanted to do was wrap your lips around it, which in time, you knew you’d be able to.
But for now? All Lewis wanted to do was press inside you, feel the way your walls pulled him in, the way your wetness coated him, the way you’d stretch so lovely around him.
“On your knees, pretty girl. I wanna’ see this lovely arse when I push inside you for the first time, been thinking about it lots.”
You were quick to do as he demanded, flipping your body over so you were on your knees, resting on your elbows as you felt the couch dip behind you.
A low whimper fell from your lips as you felt him run his length through your wetness, coating his cock in your juices before pressing the tip inside. The stretch was delicious, your body pushing back against his, begging for more.
Obliging, his entire length pushed forward, your lips wrapping around him, the wetness dripping from your core making it easier for him to slide inside.
“Gonna fuck you so good, make you never wanna leave, baby. Can’t wait to feel you cum all over my cock, been wanting to feel that for ages,” he whispered in your ear, biting at the lobe as he pulled away.
Moans and grunts fell from your lips with every thrust of his hips, his body seeking the release he knew yours could give him. The way he made you feel, the feelings his body evoked from yours; it made you insatiable, made you crave the feeling more and more. Made you regret ever believing his comments were simply a joke.
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anyways. i got carried away. please enjoy (reader has a hand kink specifically for lewis as i also do sorry!!! bye!!!)
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dadsbongos · 1 year ago
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then, and again, and once more
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6.9k words
Summary - Yuuji tries to impress you and win your heart, with the help of Sukuna… who seems weirdly knowledgeable about and interested in you.
Warnings - p in v sex, FULL NELSON BABY!!!, yuuji eats pussy :), oh yeah fem reader btw, sukuna is here too (and his cannibalism is mentioned), idiot friends pining for each other, very vague timeline idk but yuuji is aged up
sukuna-centric part 2
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There it is again.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
That unbearable thick bass in his chest, banging so tirelessly against his ribs that it threatens to make him nauseous. A quick inhale and yep - scratch that - he’s definitely already nauseous.
Yuuji sinks his sweaty palms deeper into his pants pockets, eyes darting sharply down to his beaten sneakers. The once vibrant ruby shade is now marred by dirt and aging threads - and if he turns his right foot just so, then he can see an old, blackened stain from pizza sauce he spilled while eating out with you. The memory, or more specifically how you’re giggling in his memory, makes him smile.
And in the real world, Megumi is watching his friend grin ear to ear while looking at a black, crusty splotch on the inside curve of his right shoe. After having just wide-eyed stared at you from across the room while you and Nobara heatedly debate where to go for dinner.
He glares at Yuuji, lashes narrowing, “You look insane. Knock it off.”
That snaps the boy from his reminiscing, and it takes him three long seconds before he registers the insult, “I was thinking!”
“Obviously,” Megumi scratches the side of his nose, more to just have something to do with his hands than anything else, “What were you thinking about?”
Humming quietly to himself, Yuuji shrugs, “Oh, the usual.”
“You’re hopeless,” Megumi maintains his efforts to keep his hands busy by scratching the back of his head, “Just tell her already. What’s the worst that happens?”
“She rejects me and avoids me,” Yuuji pouts, “Honestly, ‘gumi, I would’ve thought you’d be more sympathetic - being a standoffish and awkward guy yourself.”
Swatting at his friend’s shoulder, Megumi shakes his head, “The hell is wrong with you? Was that just sitting in your mind?” he shakes his head again, glare growing stronger, “And don’t call me that.”
“I thought you had anxiety or something,” Yuuji shrugs, “Why else would you be so weird in public?”
Any previous concern regarding Yuuji’s well-being immediately flies from Megumi at that. He folds his arms across his chest with murmurs of hatred floating out from his lips. All as he waltzes over to where you and Nobara are seated around your laptop at the chipping hardwood table.
Yuuji has no problem shrugging off Megumi's irritation, but when it comes to the mere idea of your face stretching in disgust at him - God, isn’t that the worst?
“You’re the worst, brat,” comes that rumbling, terrible voice in the back of his head. The nagging used to sound more like him - and when he’s really stressed, it still sometimes does - but now his own voice has faded into the King of Curses’. Now his own voice is sweeter, more prone to praise and positives - in a weird way, Sukuna has made Yuuji better.
But in a lot more ways -
“Oi, don’t ignore me.”
He’s made Yuuji’s life so much worse.
“You like that one, right? I can help.”
You’re sitting back, allowing Megumi to take the reins on shooting down Nobara’s suggestion for sushi. Normally, that demand isn’t a problem, but this would be the fifth night in a row she’s tried roping you all into ordering sushi for her. You lean into Megumi a little, and Yuuji hates the way his chest tightens at the display.
It isn’t even affection. It’s just…
“You want to be the one she’s on, right?”
Yuuji sighs to himself and sneaks out of the kitchen, though it’s hardly a challenge when Nobara raises her voice to defend her long-lasting cravings.
With tense shoulders and a red face, Yuuji glances down each side of the hall to ensure nobody is nearby, “How could you help with this?”
Sukuna’s eye on Yuuji’s cheek has flitted up to stare into Yuuji’s, and that sickly crawl of his skin stretching to accommodate Sukuna’s wide grin makes his stomach turn, “You’re just a child, you don’t know anything about women.”
Yuuji could double over, hands on his knees and breathless in sputters of laughter, but he refrains - unwilling to let anyone hear his schizophrenic ramblings, “And you do?”
Sukuna’s eye rolls and Yuuji hates the way it feels under his cheekbone, nearly retching in response, “Of course.”
And that strings up some different terrible question in Yuuji, “But why would you help me?”
Sukuna has been so unwilling to do anything useful for Yuuji despite the fact he’s allowed to reside in this body - so what could possibly possess him to do this now?
“Do you want my help or not, worm?”
Yuuji sighs through his nose, eyes fluttering shut, thinking hard about the offer. He’d come to the conclusion not too long after swallowing his first finger to simply not question many of Sukuna’s motives, mostly since his goals are: chaos, women, and chaos.
“This better not be some gross pass at my friend,” Yuuji sneers, body electrified on the ready to smack down his own cheek should he hear an answer he doesn’t like.
Sukuna is too quiet for too long, and Yuuji is fully prepared to swipe at the parasite on his face when finally, that deep voice rattles again. It buzzes in his flesh, uncomfortable and itchy and so quiet he barely hears what the curse mumbles into him.
The boy pauses and lets the words melt on his tongue, he turns them between his molars and laves the roof of his mouth with the remaining implications. He wasn’t expecting Sukuna to be honest, not to that degree at least.
And Yuuji smacks Sukuna’s bulbous eye down anyway.
“Fine then,” Yuuji pulls his hand down and curls his fingers into a fist, another great big awful ragged sigh roughing over his tongue like barbed wire, “I’ll listen to you, but if you ruin this for me- “
“Calm down, brat,” the mouth pops back up stubbornly, bitterly spitting out his version of a promise, “I don’t plan on failing.”
Yuuji pushes himself off the wall and spins back into the kitchen unnoticed, hands locking behind his head as he saddles up beside you at the table, “So, what’s for dinner?”
He snorts at how you groan, looking up at him from your seat with tired, low-lidded eyes and gesturing across the table to where Megumi and Nobara are still arguing, “You tell me.”
“Why don’t we just go out?” Yuuji shrugs, grinning broadly despite the way his two friends both twitch their necks over to glare at him, “Come on, it’s not even dark! We can walk around and do a little looking; get some air!”
Nobara’s pitched shoulders drop, pinched expression falling into her usual lax, she looks over at Megumi again with a raised brow. Megumi shrugs, his own eyebrows still scrunched together, “If it’s fine with you two, I don’t care.”
You snicker, standing up against the stiff wood supports of the chair legs, one elbow digging into the table to further help hold you up while your spare fingers dance up to smooth out the crinkled space, “I think it’ll be fun.”
Megumi snatches you by the wrist and tosses your hand to the side while Nobara hops down from her own chair, stretching out her back until it pops obnoxiously. She’s already bouncing out of the kitchen to snag her shoes before shouting back, “Well, come on! We’re on a timer now, people!”
“Jeez,” you slip off the chair pegs, bumping slightly into Yuuji’s side - entirely oblivious to the sparkly fireworks you sweep across your poor friend’s body at the contact, “Should’ve just suggested that from the start, huh?”
Shrugging, Yuuji waits for you to begin walking out of the kitchen before following, “Sometimes you just need fresh eyes on a situation, you know?”
“I guess,” you fold your arms, evidently frustrated, “Just feel like that was something I should’ve seen.”
Yuuji feels that disgusting, familiar thumping in his chest just by looking at you now. Heat radiating from his cheeks to the expanse of his chest, throat swelling with the uncomfortable need to spill his guts - dump every little thought and feeling he’s ever had for you into your ears until you force him to shut up. Like how he can’t even look at Jennifer Lawrence the way he used to simply because she isn’t you.
Maybe then he’d tell you that this hasn’t happened in the six years since he first saw Silver Linings Playbook. Maybe you’d tell him to stop talking, and that you two would never happen.
Maybe then he can move on, when you crush his hope. But he doesn’t really want that.
And he doesn’t really know why he agreed to let Sukuna lend him any advice.
Oh well.
It’s when you’re rushing out the door to keep up with Megumi and Nobara that Sukuna opens his mouth for the first time.
His voice stabs into Yuuji’s ears, but it isn’t exceptionally as cruel as he usually finds it, this, instead, is purely instructional, “When you two are out tonight, tell her about that cat you saw around the garden today.”
Yuuji scratches through his messily filed memories, “I saw a cat?”
“Yes, twit, a black one. Tell her about how its fur changed color in the sun.”
“Okay…?” Yuuji huffs in his daze, finally putting effort into walking alongside you and the others, “Hey! So, I just remembered something.”
“Oh yeah?” you smile at Yuuji, purely encouraging, and he’s disgusted at the way he almost trips over his own feet.
Nobara and Megumi pay the both of you little mind, instead pointing out different potential favorite hotspots they could creep into for the night. Well, Nobara points out, they could even stop at two places if they’re feeling adventurous. And Megumi says they can do whatever the rest of you think is best.
But Yuuji isn’t listening, and you’re hardly lending an ear, he swallows down the rock in his throat and nods, “I saw a cat this morning - a black one! - and it made me think of you,” the gentle warmth spreading through him could either be the way you’re lighting up at him, or Sukuna silently congratulating his good line, “Its fur was all brownish red in the sun, it was…” your eyes are so starry and sweet, solely on him - it makes his tongue tie up in knots, “It was beautiful.”
“Bummer I wasn’t there, then,” you pout a little, “You need to get me for things like that!” he laughs at the way your face has morphed, all stern and strict business, “Seriously!”
“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, both hands up in playful defense, “I promise to call you if I see another cat.”
“Could’ve at least taken a picture for me,” you histrionically sigh, “And I thought we were friends.”
A sudden thought invades the back of Yuuji’s mind. Some hidden, more primal part of his mind that he doesn’t usually listen to flashes back to a time he doesn’t remember.
We used to be more.
You and him are sitting out in the sun with a fluffy little Bombay cat tucked into your lap. It paws at the buttery dandelions that bloom between you both, his own legs are sprawled out impolitely and your own are crossed to wall around the feline in your hold. His knee knocks against yours whenever he shifts his leg. You lean in, shoulder digging into the meat of his muscled arm and temple resting on his shoulder.
Your body is entirely at ease. His is, too.
Yuuji knows exactly where the thought comes from. And if that dark, creepy place weren’t so infested by evil then maybe he’d feel a little pity for it. But you’re in front of him now, and you’re excited to be here, and your pinky keeps knocking into his as you two walk side-by-side - so there’s no room for pity in his heart.
Your quartet winds up squished into a teal leather booth towards a back corner of Nobara’s selected diner. You and Nobara sit on the interior seats, pressed into the windows, with Yuuji and Megumi caging the both of you in. Megumi having shoved Yuuji down next to you before the boy could even see who was where.
“What were you thinking?” Nobara sits up, jabbing your arm with a manicured finger just to annoy you.
Flicking at her hand, you shrug, focusing on the boards plastered behind the front bar counter for any eye-catching special offers.
Yuuji can feel the tightening of his cheek skin as the eyeball threatens to pop out, it stings when his cheek is forced to split for Sukuna’s eye. His cheek below that parts as well for his lips.
And Sukuna is kind enough this once to be quiet, “Tell her to get the wildfowl bowl,” as if sensing his arising questions, Sukuna continues, “And tell the kitchen worms to make sure the vegetables are soft. Not well, not sturdy,” he sounds disgusted as he says it, “Soft.”
“Hey,” and against everything he’s been told by Gojo, Yuuji puts his entire trust into the curse inside him, “that wildfowl bowl looks good, right?”
You lean closer to Yuuji, arm brushing his as you try to see where he spotted that, “What’s in it? Duck?”
He gives a conformational hum even though he has no idea, “Probably good with soft vegetables.”
Megumi shakes his head, “What does that even mean?”
“When they steam the veggies for longer than usual,” you pat Yuuji’s shoulder while defending him, “I get what you mean, Itadori. Sorry Fushiguro is so judgemental.”
“I was just saying…” Megumi’s voice flutters out of Yuuji’s focus.
Instead, another memory he never made begins to flourish from that black, mushy, rotted back of his brain.
You’re sat in his lap, large thighs perfectly bracketing around your own. A neglected bowl of slim slivers of perfectly browned duck meat sits atop cooling rice, carrots, and green beans. No doubt soft and easy to chew. In your hands is a steaming bowl, larger than the one in your lap, weighed down by thick cuts of juicy meat slabs. Almost like steak, but there’s no outer hide tanned by flame. It’s red, almost raw, and even after trimming the fat - it’s still bathed in pink, fleshy trails.
Grinning so lovingly, you pinch the slabs with your bare fingers and merely giggle when Sukuna’s sharp teeth prick at your skin. His long tongue works to clean your fingers of the excess meat juices as he eats. Two of his hands are on your hips, holding you steady, a third is steadied beside him against the cold bone of his throne, and a fourth resides at the back of your head. Almost big enough to palm the whole of your skull like a children’s ball - he pats and pets and smooths his fingers over the slope of the back of your neck.
Preening under gentle attention, you’re sure to empty Sukuna’s bowl before picking your own back up.
People watch with blood at their feet, none dare to move. Fearful to become the next hot meal in your hand should they disobey Sukuna’s silent command.
As your hands wrap around your cold bowl, a deep grunt reverberates behind you in Sukuna’s broad chest. He tugs the dish from your grasp; plucks the duck meat between his forefinger and thumb and holds it above your nose, forcing you to look up.
He waves it in front of your face, “Open,” and you follow his order, lips parting yet still pitched up in the impression of a pleased smile. And when he flattens the meat to your tongue and you begin chewing - you’re still smiling. That earns another fond stroke down the back of your head, pausing at your shoulder and digging his thumb into the muscle just to hear you sigh, “Good girl.”
Yuuji doesn’t see all of that. He can grasp some vague sense that you two have shared meals he’ll never get to taste, but he never sees the gristle left behind on your fingers or the saliva webbed between your fingers after feeding Sukuna.
That - Sukuna ‘hmph's proudly as he watches you beam at Yuuji over your modern interpretation of your favorite meal - the King of Curses keeps to himself. Selfishly, just as he always has.
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That next morning, you sheepishly prattle into the dusty, creaky classroom with only four rusty, barely used desks and slip into the one by Yuuji. You’re toying with the tips of your hair, eyes bouncing from where Yuuji sits on the desktop beside you and the classroom door.
Nobara sits backward at the desk directly in front of you, arms coiled around the back support of her chair as she speaks and Megumi sits normally beside her - attention solely on his book. Yuuji watches you fiddle with the ends of your hair while pretending to listen to Nobara.
And then he sees it. The new cherry shade decorating your lips, and before Sukuna can sprout and tell him to - Yuuji’s leaning down with his best smile, “New lipstick?”
Jumping at the sudden voice, your rigid posture melts under the boy’s gaze, “Yes, actually. You like?”
It could be puke green and Yuuji would still want it smeared across his face from your kisses.
But despite housing Sukuna Ryomen and battling dreadful curses, Yuuji fails to muster the courage to say that to your face, “Yeah! It’s really pretty.”
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
There goes your annoying heart, hammering just from the sound of Yuuji’s overtly positive lilt. It makes your cheeks burn and fingers skittishly tip-tap against the pencil-scratched desk, “You think so?”
But he’d never lie, you know that.
So even though it shouldn’t be a surprise when he doubles down, your annoying heart won’t stop dramatically tossing itself around when Yuuji nods with a determined, boyish grin, “Definitely.”
It’s all so saccharine and perfect, it makes Sukuna nauseous. Which, in turn, makes Yuuji nauseous.
Face paling, Yuuji jumps onto his feet and excuses himself, rushing out of the room (with no Gojo even in sight, by the way) towards the bathroom.
“Is he okay?” Nobara murmurs, stretching her neck to see outside the door frame, “What a weirdo.”
“Yeah,” you sigh dreamily, “He is sometimes, huh?”
Megumi gags at your tone, “Seriously…?”
“What was that?” Yuuji’s question is spikey and venomous while he stares into the cracked, water-spotted mirror - straight at the little eyeball on his cheek.
“You two are disgusting,” Sukuna stares back into the glass, low-lidded and unimpressed, “Get this over with and ask her out, brat.”
“But what if she says no?” Yuuji reaches up and toys with the little pink hairs at the back of his head, eyes suddenly unable to meet Sukuna at all, “It’ll totally ruin everything.”
“Enough whining. She won’t say no.”
He doesn’t know how it took so long to recognize, or maybe he just needed an excuse to display his old, unbroken knowledge of you before your fleshly little weakling friends even knew it. But he’s seen the little bursts of color and stars and sparkles and all that cute mess before.
He’s seen it many times. It was the only way you used to look at Sukuna.
That puppyish, lovesick wonder as you fluttered your pretty eyelashes at him.
Even when he would return to you in blood and sweat and muck and smelling of the death and despair he expertly wrought.
You were always at least five paces ahead of Uraume, hands bunching up in the pretty flowing silks that decorated your body. Excitedly, you’d pounce and he would hold you. Sapping up your energy and feeding off the way you’d press cherry-tasting kisses all along his hardened face. You served yourself up to him on a silver platter, all your heart and soul and mind devoted entirely and without ulterior motives. That’s why you were always his favorite.
Nothing before or after you was ever up to par. And he felt disgruntled at every turn into different worshippers and concubines and lovers - somehow wronged simply by the fact they were not as you were. It was all so disappointing.
And every now and again he’d flash back to you while with others. He imagines it’s how children feel when they remember a lost or broken or tossed-out favorite toy. That ache of times lost and never feeling quite fulfilled again.
Which is why when he saw you again through this brat’s eyes, he could instantly remember those nights with you. Full-bellied and raw-lipped and your pulse between his teeth.
But Yuuji knows nothing of that, and so when he returns to the classroom - neither of you says anything.
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It’s only the two of you. Everyone else was cast out in the violent, unwilling acceptance that they had done all they could. With no open wound, there was a horrific list rattled off in Sukuna’s ears. Illnesses and infections that attacked the lungs and nervous system and skin and heart - things that would eat you alive from the inside. And when all could be done about that, you remained in bed.
In and out of consciousness and delusional, proclaiming twisted lights and shadowy creatures trying to rip you from yourself.
Perhaps, one of the women called to care for you shyly spoke up, perhaps she’s just too old.
And that was something he avoided admitting to himself.
But it was time now.
With dew still moist on the blades of grass and morning sunlight streaming through the window beside your bed - the bell tolls. Your fingers are stiff in the sheets, limbs cold and stiff when you’re found. Wide, puppylike eyes gaze up at the ceiling and Sukuna has you buried beneath the tallest, most twisted tree he could find in the surrounding forest. And when Sukuna returns from your grave that night - alone - he crosses into a dark tunnel.
It’s cold and solid beneath his feet, paces echoing back for his ears. He keeps his eyes down to avoid maddening himself over the plainness - the displeasure of even glimpsing this tunnel’s repetitive nature.
Until there’s light, golden, with the shrouded, clumsy shape of twisted branches and lanky trunks coming into view at the far open end.
And faintly, like the sweet singing of a beloved music box, he hears the tune of your voice. A high scoop towards the end.
“Itadori, right?”
Sukuna’s feet move faster before he even fully knows he’s moving.
On the other side is you, a hand jammed out in front of you in a polite wave - as if the both of you are strangers. Then that name creeps back up his spine.
Well, it’s not truly his spine, is it? It’s this new brat’s.
But then there’s your honeyed voice again, “Huh, third eye.”
Right. You wouldn’t remember it, would you?
You wouldn’t remember any of it.
Yuuji shoots up, dark sheets tangled around his ankles and cold sweat beading down his forehead - strings of pink hair matted down to his skin uncomfortably. His wide eyes scramble across the shadows of his room, slowly refamiliarizing himself with the expanse and soothing his pounding heart.
He smoothes back his hair, running through the small kinks and knots, “What the hell was that?”
That slicing pain along his cheek shocks him awake further, but no sore, deep voice follows. The eye sits there, downcast. Sitting inside this body is one of the last things he saw for himself, but to exist beside you again is liquid gold just flowing in a river. A river his new body refuses to swim in.
“She’s still awake.”
Yuuji looks over to the red numbers lighting up from his bedside alarm clock, “It’s midnight.”
Sukuna inhales sharply, irritation scorching a hole in his tongue, but he withholds the many sudden hateful thoughts he has towards Yuuji and simply repeats himself, “She’s still awake.”
“It’s weird how obsessed you are with this,” Yuuji swings his legs over the edge of his bed and slips his feet into the slippers you’d gifted him. They’re cheesy and themed after fire engines and just barely fit, but he wears them at any given opportunity.
The eye sinks back into his skin, lips sealing shut, and a thick sludge boils in Yuuji’s stomach. Quiet King of Curses is an unsettling King of Curses, and Yuuji barely finds himself able to tune out the exhaustive wave of Sukuna’s criticisms. That is much preferred to this buzzing silence.
Creeping down the moaning wooden panels to your room, Yuuji raps his knuckles against your door before immediately shuffling his fists into his gray sweatpants.
Something clatters against hardwood, sheets ruffle, and your footsteps thump, thump, thump up to your bedroom door. Your face peeks out from the sliver of cracked doorway, and there’s no hint of sleep in your gaze. You seem alert, if a little lazily slouched against your doorframe.
“Itadori?”
Oh, right. He was here to say something, wasn’t he?
But he can’t possibly find the strength in his tongue, not when you look at him like that.
With some impossible adoration, like you simply can’t wait to hear whatever stupid bullshit he’s about to spout. He feels so unworthy of it all, and he can’t wait to find out more about you and mold himself to it. To become someone you can’t imagine waking up without. To study and be studied, he’s ready to throw himself into the horrors of being known - if it’s you he’s known by.
The air is punched out of him as he speaks, “Can…” you nod him along, opening your door wider, “Can I kiss you?”
Now that he’s so close to the sugary river, he can’t wait to dive in.
“Seriously?” you laugh in shock at the outburst, but when his face persists, you fling the door open entirely, “Seriously?”
Yuuji winds his hands tighter, to stop himself from desperately clawing his way down your throat, “I like you. I’ve liked you…” he’s unnatural like this, red in the face and dodging your stare, “I don’t even know.”
But you do, you felt it when you first saw him. However, you’re not plagued by the chains of past lives, so the implications are lost. Winding your arms behind your back and grinning at Yuuji with toothy glee, “Me too.”
His eyes nail you with that doughy, desperate plea for attention - the need to be seen as himself. And you’ve always been glad to lend it over in plentiful bounties.
That buzz of silence stabs the both of you.
Until Yuuji can no longer tether himself to his pockets, his big hands gentle as he cups both your cheeks. He molds himself to you, hoping that those troublesome flashes of times he never lived will at least serve his muscle memory now.
Your hands twist into the front of Yuuji’s shirt, nails biting into the black, soft, loose fabric and tugging him closer. Yuuji’s lips are slightly chapped, and you can feel the imprints from where he’s bitten them raw. He hisses when you peek your tongue at the smooth spots.
Wrenching your hands back, you quickly run them under and up his sleep shirt - his skin is warm and he gasps against your lips when your fingertips skim along his sides.
Yuuji pulls back, cheeks flaming, and shoulders his way past your bedroom door, kicking it shut behind him and placing his hands over his shirt - finding yours through the material. He grins, chuckling at how you grope his muscle, squeezing around your hands, “Enjoying yourself?”
“Whatever,” you huff, embarrassed, then ripping your hands out from under his shirt and twisting your fingers between his before - just to prove a point - planting his palms below your own shirt, “You try being normal like this.”
Yuuji’s broad palms are still only burning into the soft flesh of your stomach, but his heart is terribly out of whack.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
“You can go higher,” your voice lilts higher, a mere soft whisper as if anything louder could entirely break the poor boy’s brain, “If you want…”
Of course, he does. He’d trade a thousand years with that Sisyphus guy Megumi mentioned to him just for twelve seconds of his hands sizzling up your body. Maybe even just for the chance.
His hands scope higher, palms glued to the planes of your body like he’s trying to scar himself along your skin. The sudden need to leave some lasting impression that he was there - here with you.
Yuuji does his best not to jump when Sukuna’s voice slithers into his ear, polite enough to whisper so he doesn’t alarm you, “Get her on her back. Tongue her cunt.”
You look at him all sweet and concerned when Yuuji’s nose scrunches, “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”
But he has no idea how to tell you that Sukuna’s words make his stomach churn, and by the time he even tries to form the words he’s thinking about it. Imagining himself on his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands tangled in his hair, and eagerly trying to annoy your friends as much as possible with how loud he can make you. And he feels so, so lightheaded at that.
Yuuji’s eyes are wide, staring into yours with such fire that it almost makes you shy away, “Can I eat you out?”
But you brave his dissecting gaze, heart pounding in your ears.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
And, oh, Yuuji could just about die happy right now.
On his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands screwed into the twirls of his tousled hair and (hopefully) annoying at least a nosy Nobara should she be listening to your soft moans next door.
Yuuji wiggles his tongue into your weeping hole, nestling his nose against your clit with a wheezy little whine. His eyes flutter up at you through the gaps between your shaking arms.
“Get your hands in there,” Sukuna’s voice is muffled against the thickness of your thigh, “Thumb her clit, don’t rely on your nose.”
Crinkling his brows, Yuuji has to bite back his remarks about how Sukuna could’ve told him that sooner. Snaking his right hand over your leg, Yuuji flattens his large hand against your lower stomach and pins your bucking hips. His thumb taking residence on your swollen clit, the bridge of his nose still saddled beneath it.
Your back arches, hips grinding down into Yuuji’s thumb and tongue. He’s messy with it - head shaking just to tease and feel the wetness of your pussy slip and slather across his chin. He tongue-fucks you in earnest, practically moaning into you as he grinds against the mattress. Swishing his thumb against your clit faster when he can feel you tighten around him, chasing the feeling of you cumming all over his face.
He can hear it despite his desperation - the way your breath hitches and throat cinches out a squeal. Your thighs squish around his head and Yuuji has to force his hips still lest he be submitted to the horrors of cumming in his pants.
And it isn’t even the fear of your reaction - no, he knows better than to think you’re capable of making him feel shame. It’s just-
“Yes,” Sukuna’s voice is husky, tongue lolling out along Yuuji’s cheek to lather up your juice, “Yes!”
Yuuji knows exactly who will be making fun of him instead. He smacks at the unwanted presence and takes it as pure luck when Sukuna actually stays down.
He works his tongue out of you slowly, letting you whine and huff the way off your high naturally before peeking up at you. He’s grinning, eyes wide and hands retreating to dig hungrily into the meat of your thighs.
“Hey, I wanna try something,” Yuuji’s shamelessness in licking at his soaked lips makes heat flush all the way to your forehead, “Just let me know if it’s too much, okay?”
You nod sheepishly, body jittery with the little bugs crawling beneath your sweltering skin. Yuuji bends to the sudden thought he’s sure has something to do with the curse inside him with a mysterious catalog on all things you.
Yuuji slips onto his back beside you, curled against the cold wall corning your bed with his feet flat against the mattress and legs bent. He uses the unnatural well of strength he’s harbored since birth to squeeze at the fat of your sides and lift you atop of him. He can feel the warmth of your cunt on his pelvis and it wracks him with a shiver, you whine helplessly when his right hand immediately welds to your slit. His index and ring fingers part your lips so his middle can swipe coyly over your clit.
“Hah,” you watch his ring finger abandon its post to join the rude teasing, “Yuuji…”
“I know,” Yuuji sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes glued to where your wetness drips onto his skin, his hard cock peeking up between your legs, “I know, I’m sorry,” but he doesn’t sound very sorry. Especially when he’s continuing to tease you while pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Okay, serious now,” but he dips his fingers lower and prods at your hole, “Serious.”
You giggle, hot-faced, at his focused gaze, “Yuuji!”
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he spreads your lips again just to stare from over your shoulder, voice hoars when he finally speaks up, “Alright. Serious now.”
Reaching between your legs, Yuuji grabs hold of his cock - hissing at the contact - and is internally grateful when you raise your hips to meet his head. He presses his forehead against your shoulder when his tip pushes inside you. You feel the hot puffs of air he sends against your back as you continue lowering yourself. He whimpers, the hand at his base flying across your abdomen and gripping your breast. He squeezes and pinches and tries suffocating the embarrassing little noises escaping his lips when you rock your hips down on his pelvis.
“Okay down there?” you twist your head to look back at Yuuji and you’re so glad you did.
He’s flushed down to his chest and his lashes are kissing his cheeks to keep himself together, when he finally opens his eyes fully and looks up at you. His bottom lip is red and puffy from how hard he’d been biting it, “Now I’m gonna do something new.”
This wasn’t new?
Yuuji’s arms stretch under the backs of your knees and come over your shoulders before winding behind your neck, pressing his palms flat against the back of your head. Your arms dangle uselessly at your sides, hands stretching out to graze his ribs and legs bouncing limply as he manhandles you.
His cock bullies itself in your cunt, hips jerking up into the fat of your ass.
Yuuji tries to suffocate down his groans in favor of your sweet moans being punched up from your gut every time he sweeps deep inside you. His lips press tightly just as your own pop open for adorable “ah, ah ah!”s - fighting to maintain his pace despite how badly he wants to pin you to his body and wallow through the wetness sucking him back in for every thrust. Feel your sweaty skin slide and stick against his and whine at the pulling sensation when you peel apart.
Another sudden idea pops into his brain and it’s almost instinctual how he follows it. Besides, it isn’t like he’s going to complain about being brain-blasted with memories that aren’t his if it means not having to hear Sukuna’s voice while fucking you.
Hips never falter in their snaps up into you, Yuuji cranes his neck to teeth at the meat of your nape. He bites possessively and grunts in response to your immediate pitchy moan. Then licking over the marks apologetically.
You try to smother down your breathless moans as Yuuji bullies his cock repeatedly into that spongy spot shooting stars behind your eyes. With an angle and drive and care you’re sure would be lost on any man other than Yuuji - and you’re dumbly struck by the hope that maybe this hard work is only because he’s here with you. And that coherent thought is fucked out of you with Yuuji’s next whimpered request.
“Don’t do that,” he gasps when you tighten around him after a particularly rough thrust, “Please don’t keep it down- wanna…” he moans and the sound flutters straight to your tightening gut, “Wanna hear you so bad, pretty girl.”
Unlatching your teeth from the plush of your bottom lip, flames lap through the wiry twists of your veins - burning through the stretch of your skin and scarring Yuuji. And he eats it up and greedily begs at your feet for more. It shames Sukuna just as much as it excites him to taste the salt on your skin through his vessel’s tongue and watch the way your legs shake and bounce under his vessel’s iron hold. His favorite way to have you and your favorite way to take him.
Yuuji unwinds one of his arms from behind your neck, lowering half your body slightly to swipe his fingers between the junction of your thighs. Right over the slippery spot where you’re creaming on his cock and taking the soaked fingers to your clit. His canines and soft lips battle for a monopoly of your neck and shoulder, swiftly circling your clit with his middle and ring fingers as his hips continue fucking you stubbornly.
“Hng, Yuu…!” you gasp, head throwing back and narrowly missing his - the coil winding tighter and tighter and your walls milking Yuuji tighter and tighter, “Yuuji!”
“I know, baby,” he kisses up your bent neck and presses his flaming cheek against yours, “God, please, cum for me. Cum for me,” his hips stutter, and his breath hitches and oh, he’s so close, “I wanna feel you cum on me, baby- I need it. Need it so bad.”
“Oh, Yuuji,” you dig your face closer to his as if trying to meld yourselves into one body, “‘m cumming,” you clench and he’s damn near wheezing, the knot in his lower belly popping as he feels you cum and drips down his balls, “‘m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming…!”
And just to avoid embarrassing himself from admitting he’s in love with you while spitting his own cum in your warm, wet walls, Yuuji strangles down his own final cries with a coppery, abusive bite to his bottom lip.
It starts to hurt, how he overstimulates himself through his slowing thrusts - letting you slip down onto his thrumming, sticky chest. Your legs sprawled across his sides, Yuuji slipping his softening cock from your hole.
You lazily roll off of Yuuji, landing face-first into your sheets at his side.
Yuuji can hear it again, that terrible, grating voice telling him, “Clean her, brat.”
And what’s the most terrible is he knows Sukuna’s command is entirely warranted. Flopping a hand onto your back, Yuuji traces heart shapes into the skin as he talks, “I’ll be right back.”
And when Yuuji’s wetting a soft, clean cloth he braved the hallway (nude) to retrieve from his room, he hears that voice again. It echoes in your bathroom.
“I want a turn when she’s awake,” a pause, “Fully awake.”
“Aren’t you charitable?” Yuuji rolls his eyes.
And that same utterance from hours before rings through Yuuji’s ears once again. Why Sukuna cared so much about petty crushes. Why Sukuna bothered himself by actually giving genuine, helpful points. Why Sukuna was fascinated by you.
“She was my most devoted and favorite lover in her past life.”
The way he says it inspires no respect for Yuuji - underlined in his thriving desire to be worshiped, as he imagines he deserves. Yuuji wouldn’t dare uphold you to that.
When he tenderly presses his thumbs into stiff muscles with a red flush and warm smile, Yuuji knows that for sure.
“Can I stay the night?” he whispers, folding his discarded towels and lazily tucking them by your bedpost on the floor. He feels that same hurried ache in his chest, awaiting for your impatience.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
You hum, lifting your head off the pillow and snickering, your drowsy face pinched to look at him like he’s stupid, “Duh.”
Giddy, Yuuji slips under the blankets he’d slid over you after cleaning the mess from between your thighs, and slots himself right next to you.
Rolling again, you twist into an open space against Yuuji’s chest and under his thick arm. Warmth drapes across your shoulders when he rests that arm over you. He circles his other arm around you and squeezes, grinning so hard he can feel it burning in the balls of his cheeks. Your ear rests against Yuuji’s chest, and you soothe yourself to slumber on the rhythm of his heartbeat.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
Blissfully unaware of the fact that when your bones are rotten and six feet deep, two more people will be curled into each other’s arms. With your same starry eyes that some pink-haired kid falls in love with every time they’re on him.
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