#knows how badly i'm struggling with these urges
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࿐ 𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚; 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 𝙠. ⋆ 𐙚 ̊.
cw: fem!reader, smut. i'm experimenting with this new format (the smaller font) for shorter blurbs, please let me know what you think 🤍
wc: 844
𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 is big.
He's always been vaguely aware of it—had noticed the way his cock stood thick and heavy in his palm when he first started jerking off, had caught glimpses of porn where the guys didn’t seem half as well-endowed as he was. But he never really understood just how much of a difference it made until he was here, watching your face twist in pleasure-pain as he tried to fit himself inside you for the first time.
Your body is clenching down on him so tight it’s almost unbearable, your walls gripping him like a vice, resisting every inch he tries to push in. His brows knit together, lips parting as a shaky exhale leaves him. He’s not even halfway in, barely past the tip, and you’re already writhing beneath him, hands scrabbling at his back, nails dragging hot, stinging lines into his skin.
Choso stills, panting slightly, his mind racing. Why is it so tight? Am I hurting her? Am I doing this wrong? He's about to pull out, to check on you, when your voice comes, breathy and desperate:
“Fuck, Choso, you’re so big.”
His whole body tenses, his cock twitching inside you at the admission. His heart stutters in his chest, and you can see the blood rushing to his face, his cheeks darkening as he stares down at you with wide, stunned eyes.
“I… sorry,” he stammers, flustered in a way that makes your stomach tighten. His lips part, forming a small pout as he searches your face for any sign of discomfort. “Is that—”
“A bad thing?” You cut him off with a breathless laugh, shaking your head. “Fuck no.”
Your legs tighten around his waist, heels pressing into his lower back to urge him forward. “Your cock’s stretching me out so good, baby.” You purr the words against his jawline, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses there, reveling in the way his body trembles against yours.
Choso blinks, his breath shaky as he processes your words. You can see the moment it clicks, the way his pupils darken like he’s just been given permission to let loose.
He exhales sharply, readjusting his grip on the mattress, and then—slowly—he begins to move again, rocking his hips forward, inch by inch, stretching you open until the thick head of his cock slips in deeper.
“Does it feel good?” he murmurs, the words a low, purring rasp against your lips. There’s a subtle stutter in his voice, betraying the shyness he’s trying to mask, and it makes you melt.
“So good,” you whimper, rolling your hips to take more of him. “Give it to me, baby. Need your big cock inside of me, all of it. Please.”
Your hand snakes down between your bodies, fingers pressing to your swollen clit, rubbing tight, messy circles as you try to loosen yourself up for him.
Choso groans, deep and guttural, his arms flexing as he fights to keep himself steady. “Hmph— fuck,,” he chokes out, his voice shaking. He wants so badly to be slow, to take his time, but the way you’re begging for him, the way your pussy clenches around his cock like you were made for this…it’s too much.
“Shit,” he breathes, his forehead falling to your shoulder. “You’re so fucking tight—I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“You won’t,” you promise, tilting your hips up, urging him deeper. “Please, baby—give it to me.”
And just like that, he snaps.
Choso groans as he finally gives in to your pleas, pressing forward in one slow, deep thrust until he’s buried to the hilt inside you.
Your mouth falls open in a silent cry, your fingers digging into his back as your body shakes, struggling to accommodate the sheer size of him. Your mind goes blank, white-hot pleasure swallowing you whole as your walls pulse around his cock, sucking him in, holding him there.
Choso curses under his breath, his head tilting back as his eyes flutter shut. “Oh, fuck, fuck—” He sounds wrecked, like he’s barely holding himself together. His cock throbs inside you, twitching against your deepest spots, and your whole body clenches in response.
For a long moment neither of you move, caught in the unbearable heat of it all—the stretch, the fullness, the way you can feel every inch of him pressing into you, molding you to his shape.
Then, with a low, trembling breath, Choso pulls back just enough to thrust in again—slow, deep, dragging every ridge and vein of his cock against your sensitive walls.
Your back arches, a broken moan spilling from your lips. "Oh my God—"
Choso chuckles breathlessly, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs, spreading you open wider as he starts moving again, building up a slow, relentless rhythm.
“Take it,” he murmurs, voice low and a lot more confident against your ear. His next thrust is sharper, deeper, and it knocks the air from your lungs, your eyes rolling back. “Take it all, baby.”
#reader insert#x reader#x fem reader#choso x female reader#choso kamo smut#choso kamo x reader#choso x you#choso smut#choso kamo#choso x reader#jujutsu kaisen x female reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut
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uhm rough pre-concert sex with cheol??
🫠����



Notes: guys I’m actually alive LMAO so enjoy these fics while I’m in the writing mood heheh
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.
Seungcheol pins you against the wall, his body pressed flush against yours. He kisses you hungrily, his hands roaming over your body as he presses himself closer to you.
"We don't have much time," he murmurs against your lips. "The others will be looking for us soon." You nod, your breath coming in gasps as he kisses down your neck, his hands sliding under your shirt to caress your skin.
"We have to be quick," you manage to say, your voice shaking with desire. Seungcheol grins, his eyes dark with lust as he looks at you.
"I can be quick," he says, his hands moving lower to unbutton your pants. "But you're going to have to be quiet." You bite your lip, trying to hold back a moan as he slips his hand into your pants, his fingers finding their way to your most sensitive areas.
He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Shh, baby. We don't want anyone to hear us." You nod again, your eyes fluttering closed as he continues to touch you, his fingers working their magic on your body. He presses himself closer to you, his own body reacting to your closeness. "You're so beautiful like this," he whispers. "All mine to take." He kisses you again, his tongue plundering your mouth as he takes control. He lifts you up, pinning you between himself and the wall, and grinds his hips against yours.
"I need you so badly," he groans. "I can't wait to be inside you." You wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer as you moan into his mouth. He breaks the kiss, panting heavily as he looks at you with a mixture of lust and desperation.
"We have to be quick," he repeats, his voice hoarse with need. "I need to feel you, baby. Right now." He quickly unbuckles his belt and pulls down his pants, freeing his hard cock. He looks at you with a feral glint in his eyes.
"You ready, baby?" he asks, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. You nod again, your body aching for him. He positions himself at your entrance, teasing you with the head of his cock.
"You're so wet for me," he growls. "I love how much you want me." He thrusts into you, filling you completely. You let out a strangled cry, but he quickly covers your mouth with his hand.
"Shh," he whispers, his eyes locked on yours. "I need you to be quiet, baby. Can you do that for me?" You nod, your eyes wide as you try to hold back your moans. He starts to move, his hips thrusting in and out of you at a relentless pace.
"You feel so good," he groans, his hand still over your mouth. "So tight and wet for me. I could stay inside you forever." He pushes you harder against the wall, his body driving into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body tightening around him as you struggle to hold back your orgasm.
"That's it, baby," he whispers. "I can feel you getting close. Let go for me." He increases his pace, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he nears his own climax. He can feel you teetering on the edge, your body trembling with the effort of holding back.
"Let go," he urges again, his voice strained. "Cum for me, baby. I want to feel you come apart around me." Seungcheol freezes, his body going tense as he hears the voices of the others outside.
"Shit," he curses under his breath. "We don't have time for this." He pounds into you with a frenzied urgency, his thrusts becoming even harder and faster. He knows they don't have much time left, and he's determined to make the most of it.
"I'm so close," he growls. "I need you to cum for me, baby. Now." You can feel yourself hurtling towards the edge, your body shaking with the force of your impending orgasm. You try to hold back, to prolong the moment, but Seungcheol's relentless pace makes it impossible.
"Cum for me," he commands again, his voice low and dangerous. "Cum on my cock, baby. I want to feel you lose control." You can't hold back any longer. Your body spasms around him as you come, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. You cry out, the sound muffled by his hand over your mouth. Seungcheol groans, his own orgasm following close behind. He buries himself deep inside you, his body shuddering as he empties himself inside you. He holds you close as you both come down from your highs, his body still pressed against yours. He gently lowers you to the ground, his breathing ragged.
"Fuck," he whispers, resting his forehead against yours. "That was too close." Seungcheol kisses your cheek and smiles at you, his eyes still dark with desire.
"I'll see you after the show," he says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Save some energy for me, baby." You nod, still dazed from the intense experience. Seungcheol gives you one last lingering look before stepping back, adjusting his clothes and fixing his hair.
"I love you," he says, his voice low and husky. "Now go out there and cheer for me."
#kpop fanfic#kpop smut#seventeen fanfic#seventeen smut#seventeen#svt smut#woozinhos#svt reactions#seventeen seungcheol#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol scenarios#seungcheol smut#seungcheol fanfic#smut seungcheol#seungcheol x you#seungcheol x reader#choi seungcheol#svt seungcheol#scoups seventeen#scoups seventeen smut#scoups smut svt#scoups svt smut#scoups svt#seventeen scoups smut#scoups smut#seventeen scoups#scoups
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Hi! I see you write for Bill Skarsgard and characters. I was wondering if I could request Eric Draven being a complete and totally pleasure Dom and he ends up putting you into subspace for the first time.
Excuse me, I need a moment 🥴
“Kneel for me.”
You obediently sank to your knees in front of your dom, your head tilting back as your hair was harshly yanked by the god above you before he filled your pretty mouth with his cock.
That had been hours ago. Now, you were spread out with your wrists and ankles bound to your metal bed frame. Your back arched, a strained cry leaving your lips as Eric landed a slap to your abused cunt.
“Hold it. I didn’t say you could come again.” He snarled, feeling you get close for the fourth time that night.
“I’m sorry, sir,” you whimpered softly, trying to keep yourself from coming as his deep thrusts nailed your cervix, making your vision spark with pain and pleasure. You yanked on the bonds that held your wrists, desperate to grab him and drag your nails down his back or pull him close to you.
“Shh, just relax and take it, baby,” Eric nipped at your shoulder, disapproving of your attempts to struggle against his ties. You tried to still, and as you looked up at your Master, you felt the familiar haze wash over you that blurred the lines between your fantasy and reality.
He saw it in your eyes, the all-too-familiar look he loved to see. You were teetering on the edge of slipping into subspace, and he knew you were hesitant.
He's proven himself time and time again, so you trusted Eric with your life and you knew that he would never let you fall or abandon you while you were in that mindset. You were constantly in charge of managing every aspect of your life both at work and school, and you so badly wanted to give yourself to him in the bedroom, but you always needed a little push.
“Don’t fight it. I'm right here.” His swollen pink lips grazed yours.
The dangerous tone that had occupied his voice all night was gone as his lips brushed your ear, coaxing you into subspace. Your fourth orgasm rocked through you like a tidal wave, Eric’s skilled fingers gently rubbing circles on your clit as he kept his forceful thrusts.
Euphoria flooded your body as you went stiff as stone. Somehow making you feel weightless as pleasure overwhelmed your senses. He knew by the glassy look in your eyes that you were so far gone, floating around in subspace. When you're in subspace, you strive to be the best girl you can be for him. You had already stopped yanking against the bonds, and your body had gone almost limp below his massive frame as you relaxed.
He detached himself from your throbbing cunt, earning a small whine at not feeling full. “Don't worry. I’m not done. Hang on for me.”
He kissed your lips, softening up now that you were in a different headspace. You weren’t very good at communicating when you were like this, and it made him hesitant to be rough with you.
“That’s my good girl,” He murmured, kissing up your chest to leave a mark on your neck for you to blush at in the morning, and him to admire.
“I know that you have one more for me, Y/N. You’ve been so good tonight, just give me another, then you can be done.” Eric urged you, gently fingering you while stroking your g-spot and lightly pulling your clit between his teeth.
A silent scream caught in your throat and you arched your back, your thighs trembling erratically, your muscles sore and aching from how many times you’d cum that night. You barely heard his praises, only processing your own mind-numbing pleasure. You tried to retreat your hips, but to no avail,
“Y/N, you’ve got to learn to quit fighting these.” He hummed, touching the light red marks around your wrists, and you looked up at him with pathetic doe eyes,
“M’sorry, Daddy.” You whispered, your voice barely audible. He kissed both your thighs before roughly fingering you until you were soaking his massive forearm. He leaned his head down once again and greedily slurped his favorite drink.
That's five tonight.
Once he saw the tears streaming down your face, he climbed back up your body and kissed your lips tenderly. You murmured incoherently, and he slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing you heavily. When you were yourself, you’d reach up to his hair and pull him in deeper, but now you were too fucked-out to think straight.
He untied your limbs and sat you up enough to get behind you. You rested your head on his still damp chest. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the once chilled water and the face towel next to it. He dipped the towel and covered your forehead while telling you how good you were for him.
"I never thought I'd have the blessing of meeting someone like you and yet, here you are."
He pulled you to sit up, lifting the glass of water to your lips and supporting your head with his other hand. You opened your eyes, your gaze connecting with the deep green eyes that were full of love and adoration for you. You obediently swallowed the water he helped you drink, rehydrating your body.
Once you were relaxed enough to be moved, he lifted you off the bed and into the bathroom. He sat you on the pillow he placed on the stool before going to fill up the tub. You winced as the warm water swallowed your aching body as Eric sank down into the tub with you. You laid your head against his shoulder,
“I love you, Y/N” he said, kissing your temple as he rubbed soap over your body with his cool hands, gently massaging your sore muscles.
“Love you,” you breathed, making him smile.
“Can you drink some more for me, baby?” He held the glass, not quite trusting your muscle control yet. You finished the glass before he washed your hair, rubbing your scalp and pulling a pleased moan from your lips.
“Does that feel nice?” He laughed lightly, his chest vibrating against your back. You nodded, squirming as the bath water began to cool, becoming uncomfortable.
Soon, you were wrapped in a fluffy towel and sat in front of the mirror, Eric standing behind you. He carefully ran your product through your mane, knowing you adored when he did so. It was intimate and tender, and he loved to comb through your tresses to show he loved you. This small gesture eased you back into reality so subtlety that it was a little ritual after a night like this.
“Was I good for you?” You spoke, making his eyes snap up to meet yours in the mirror.
“Always.” He kissed the crown of your head.
“Nice to have you back.” He spoke after several moments, his heart nearly bursting as you giggled softly.
#eric draven#the crow#the crow 2024#eric draven 2024#eric draven smut#eric draven x reader#eric draven x black!reader#bill skarsgård#bill skarsgard smut#bill skarsgård smut#bill skarsgard x black!reader
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Flower 4
Hi my loves! I am unsure if this is the last part, I'm a little stumped on what to do for another part. If you guys have suggestions pleeeease let me hear them. Without further delay, here is the smut I've been depriving ya'll of. (Sorry xoxo)
Flower Masterlist
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WC- 5.2k
Warnings- smut, soft dom!H, spitting, cum play, daddy kink mention, unprotected sex, all the good stuff etc
Harry’s hands were made to touch her. Calloused from the work he did, hot to the touch, he handled her in a cocksure way that had her melting under his fingertips. There was no mistaking that there was a touch of desperation, but she couldn’t tell who had felt it stronger- Harry or herself.
Y/N had never been so positive over a feeling before. Feeling them grip her under her thighs with fingers digging into the plush of her and picking her up with their lips attached, he pulled her up his body and carried her through his house and towards the stairs. He handled her weight as if she had none at all, light as a feather in his arms and fuck, it only added to how slick her poor panties were getting. As much as she wanted to insist they could do it right there in the entry way, Harry was nothing short of a gentleman. Even if he was about to blow her back out.
“Need t’get you out of these goddamn clothes.” He grunted. “Wearing shit of mine… do you know what that does to me?” He asked hypothetically, but Y/N had a smartass answer for it.
“I had a hope.” She grinned against his lips, squeaking when his hand came down on her ass. Fuck. It had jiggled slightly but the burn of it was light. He could do it much harder and she would love every second of it.
“Yeah? Had a hope it’d get my cock hard so you could take care of it?” The man seemed smug about that. “Well, mission fucking accomplished, Flower. Now it’s time t’get them off so I can see this beautiful body and worship you the way you need to be.”
Y/N squealed as she was deposited onto his bed, watching with pants as he tugged his shirt off and fumbled with his own belt. “Just need t’let my cock breathe, sweetheart. Been aching all day.” A stroke to her ego, that information definitely did its job.
“When did it start?” The question was breathed up at him, eyes struggling to find a spot to settle on. The obvious bulge that his hand squeezed over as the other tossed the belt to the side, or his face.
“Well, if you want honesty? I stroked off in the shower t’avoid this. Thought about how you sat so nicely in my lap last night and pushed my hand under over your thigh, let me feel all that pretty skin. But then I show up and you’re wearing my fuckin’ jacket, telling me about the books you’re reading and hinting into your sexual desires… and it made we want t’fulfill them.” he let his jeans fall down his legs, boxers covering him up but not enough to keep her from feeling the hitch in her throat. His hand pawing over his erection, looking like peeling those pants away had been the relief he needed for the moment and pulling the fabric around it with a soft hiss. “I tried t’be good, but not too good. Liked that you were touchier with me, hoped that you’d finally gotten the message that I’m completely obsessed with you. But I think you did.”
Y/N’s eyes widened as he grabbed her ankles and pulled her closer to him, settling on his knees in front of the bed. “Obsessed?” She so badly wanted to be the dirty talking vixen she read about countless times, but it was near impossible to form more than a few coherent words at a time as Harry kissed over her ankle, making his way up her leg. Feather soft kisses, the tickle of facial hair, she fought the urge to squirm as she took in the view.
“Are you kidding me?” Shooting her an incredulous look her way. “Since the day we’ve met, you’ve completely ruined me. All I wanted- all I needed was a bit of your attention. Do you even know how excited I was… when you had me come over to help in your kitchen?” His lips started over on the other leg, leaning the other on his shoulder. “Got t’be around you all alone with that… but I had a job to do. Didn’t think that through. Was gonna ask you out so many times but I wasn’t sure you wanted me…”
“I did! I do.” There was a rush to correct that. “I just- I didn’t want to assume you wanted me. Like that.” She felt a little silly about it now considering if it had been any of her other friends she would have been able to clock it straight off, but when it came to herself she never liked to assume someone liked her that way.
“Well, now you know. It isn’t an assumption. I want you, Flower. In every damn way you’ll let me have you.” Fingers found her waistband and tugged lightly, quietly asking her to budge up so he could peel her bottoms off. It had made her speechless, something she seldom was. “Tell me what you’ll let me have. It’s up to you.”
“I want you to do whatever you want to me. I don’t want to make decisions.” That response fell out of her mouth before she could even think about it. Handing over power to him wasn’t something she had anticipated doing but it felt right, so she didn’t correct herself. It seemed to take him by surprise but he looked happy with it, more than so with his gaze darkening and her pants tossed somewhere in his bedroom, along with her useless panties. A strained curse left his mouth as he looked at her, the swollen and slick cunt on display for him. His face was right there, so close she could feel his breath.
All that did was make her more impatient, more wet. He looked like he wanted to devour her, completely engulf her in him. That’s all she wanted, more than he could ever know.
“You know what to say to make me stop, hm?” There wasn’t much she would ever imagine her needing to tell him to stop for, but the sentiment was nice.
“Mhm. I know.” She nodded. “Now, please. I’m gonna go crazy.” When she had her orgasms and she was of the right mind again, she knew she’d be a bit embarrassed for how desperate she sounded, but it got her what she wanted.
Harry didn’t reply verbally, his fingers spread her poor, puffy cunt open and dragged his tongue up her, getting the gasp he had been looking for as he did so. There was no hiding just how much he wanted it, no way she could ever mistake this as any sort of pity fuck. Harry was hungry, starving for her alone. Fingers digging into hip as the other held her pussy spread, he buried his face into her with the most depraved groan she’d ever heard in her life.
There was no hiding his enjoyment, but she didn’t think he wanted to. Slick sounds of his tongue against the sensitive flesh, lapping up her arousal and slick from her and pressing the tip against her entrance as if asking for more from the source. She keened as he pressed a little more against her, fucking her slightly with his tongue.
Something she’d never actually had done to her, but read plenty of times. There had been jokes about Harry being somewhat of a oral guy- but never had she expected this.
“Oh- fuck, H.” She panted, digits tangling in his hair. “Oh my god, that’s so fucking good.”
Y/N had gotten head before, but never to this level. Harry was licking her up, devouring her like she was a literal meal. The sweetest dessert, strawberries & chocolate, or whatever it was that had become his personal vice. He wasn’t quiet about enjoying it in the slightest.
“You are perfect.” He panted as he pulled away for a little moment. His face was slightly flushed and his chin and mouth glistened from her arousal and his spit, but it was one of the most filthy and gorgeous pictures she had ever seen. How did the man look so beautiful eating her out? “How did you keep this away from me?” Pressing a kiss to her clit, he grumbled under his breath. “Perfect cunt. You don’t even understand how often I’ve thought about this.” Another kiss, making her jolt as his thumb found it after for some lazy circles.
“When did you- when were you thinking about it?” Y/N wanted to know. A curious cat, perhaps, but she wanted to know what had been going on in his mind. How oblivious she’d actually been.
“Any time you wore a skirt. The floaty sundresses, fuck… those, those things nearly killed me quite a few times.” His fingers moved from her hip to her top, pushing it up her stomach as the other continued rubbing her clit and his sticky mouth kissed over her mound and up to her belly button. “When you sat on my lap, when you crossed your legs, when you jumped onto your kitchen counter and talked to me while I was on the ground to fix the cabinet underneath it…” she could almost see his mind bringing him back to that moment. It only proved how oblivious she actually was. There had only been a single moment that day she had felt like he had looked at her differently. “Any day that ends with ‘y’, Flower. Been making me go out of my mind with how bad I want you.”
“You have me.” She promised, chestnut strands pulling through her fingers as he continued kissing over her stomach until the shirt hit her breasts and began to be pulled over. To help him- and for her own selfish reasons- she pulled the top off for him along with her bralette to give him the view he deserved. “Can do whatever you want with me now.”
Harry took that seriously, but there was no doubting that. Pressing sloppy kisses all over her breasts, right in between them, he removed the hand from her clit and brought them up to hold her tits in his hands. “That’s a rather dangerous thing to tell me, sweetheart. So dangerous, because if you give me that sort of permission… who’s to say I’ll let you go? Hm?” He purred, flicking his tongue over her nipple and smiling at her gasp. “If it’s whatever I want, you’d be tied up to the bed and left with nothing but my marks on your body and my cum leaking between your thighs.”
The imagery had her choking back a whine, his hot mouth engulfing her nipple and suckling on it with fervor. Her hand tangled in his hair, arching her chest further into his mouth as she dropped her head back against the duvet. Slick, wet pulls of her pebbled nipple into his mouth with little attempt to keep it quiet, her cunt pulsed at the attention he paid to them. It wasn’t hurried, languidly pulling at them and switching over with a pleased hum. She had to admit it wasn’t something that usually got to her as much, but something about the beau he did it- about how much he clearly loved every moment of it- brought it into a new light.
“Yeah…. Yeah, I love that.” She whispered as his teeth grazed over the nipple he had in his mouth. “Harry you’re just… my brain feels like it’s melted and you aren’t even inside of me yet.”
Somehow he found it humorous though there was no semblance of joke in her tone. The woman felt like a puddle under his touch and she was more than desperate to have him, all of him, after being teased all day long. Managing to pull himself from his new toys, he found it in him to reply. “I know, petal. Isn’t that the best part? You want to be fucked so nice that you don’t have to think for a little bit?”
“Yeah.” The mewl was borderline pathetic but god, did she want that. “You can do that? You want to?”
“Mhm.” He agreed against her skin, pressing wet kisses up to her throat. “I told you I’d take care of you. You just sit pretty and let me do what I know you’ll like, yeah? You know how much I like to take care of you…”
It had become abundantly clear that he had an affinity for it- that’s for sure. He bought her lunch and opened her door for her, he took her heavy packages from the porch when she came over, he’d repainted her cabinets when she had tried to DIY and massively failed, he got her water when she got a little too tipsy at the bar, he’ll- he’d bought her an entire haul of books without blinking an eye. Harry was one of those people who genuinely loved taking care of her. Why wouldn’t she let him indulge?
“Yes, Daddy.” She peered down at him with her softest gaze, knowing his last threat had been one one to bend her over his lap… but hopefully this time would be a different approach.
Thankfully it had its desired effect as he paused his kisses on her throat to take her mouth again. Hotter, deeper, he pressed himself between her legs and rocked into her bare cunt despite being covered in his briefs, making a joined noise of pleasure pass their kisss. Again, he ground into her, the thin fabric of the last covering between them doing little to hide how hot his cock was- how big it was. She was going to go crazy.
“Wanna suck you.” The request was a little whiny, but who could blame her? She felt like he’d be a mouthful but she was always up for a challenge. Despite it, Harry shook his head at the offer, brushing their noses back and forth.
“Later. I told you, I want to take care of you… and besides.” Taking the moment to peel down the fabric enough to free himself, she gasped as the thickness was nestled against her cunt. “I won’t last long if you do. Want to make sure I give you… the most pleasure… that I can.” He spoke the words between sticky kisses.
Y/N’s head felt full, like she was underwater. His prick swollen against her cunt, rubbing against her in slow passes as the skin got slick from her arousal, tip nudging her clit with every pass. With a shuddery breath, she tipped her hips up and clutched at his arm, desperation kicking in. She’d been edged all damn day, and she wanted him inside her. “Then fuck me.” She whispered impatiently. “Fuck me, I don’t wanna be empty anymore.”
Harry was slightly infuriating when he chuckled at her eagerness, sighing into a kiss. He’d been waiting so long for them to get to this point, and he knew- he knew he wouldn’t last long. “You’ve got t’give me a moment. Just feelin’ your slick cunt on my cock is making me wanna cum. Probably could- just like this.” His voice softened as he rocked his hips. “Could cover your pretty pussy with a load of cum and rub it into your skin, just kissing on you and rubbing into your cunt.”
Y/N knew she was malfunctioning a bit as he spoke to her in a tone she hadn’t experienced from him, saying all sort of dirty shit she’d only heard in books and making her more wet and achy than she had ever been in her entire life. “Please.” Her hips bucked into him, the slide of his cock over her bare cunt taunting her. It was big, big enough she’d feel it in her stomach and she’d have an ache in her thighs but that sort of burn was one she had been desperate for. “Please, I wanna be good but I want you inside of me so badly. Please, H.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He crooned, eyes lit with amusement. “I’ll give it to you. I’ll be nice t’you. But I don’t know if it’s going to fit.” His tongue clicked as his notched his tip against her hole, pressing just enough to stretch a little before pulling back. Cruel teasing, perhaps, but he loved watching her face screw up in desperation for him. He’d waited a long while for her to see him, to understand this was anything but just friendship, so now that he had her from the palm of his hand… he sort of wanted to watch her eat from it. Get her soft and pliable for him after her makes her beg. “See? You’re struggling just taking the tip.”
Y/N let out a cry, lifting her hips up and grabbing at his arm. “I want it. Please, I’ve been wet all day and I don’t care if it hurts, I want you to hurt me then. I’m so fucking empty, jus’ give it to me.” She felt bratty for even being whiny about it but she could feel her eyes watering at how her clit was pulsing and her pussy ached to be filled. The pain from his cock couldn’t be worse than the emptiness she felt now.
“Oh… shh.” He cupped her cheek, leaning down for a slow kiss. “Be sweet to me. Stop cussing at me. You’re a sweet little flower, S’why I like you so much. Didn’t know how dirty you got, but as much I love you begging for me, you need to let me be in charge. That’s what you wanted.”
Y/N felt slightly reprimanded, opening her mouth to apologize when he pushed into her. It wasn’t all of him, but it was enough to steal her breath as she choked on air. Thick heat spreading her open, inching himself the rest of the way in as her head fell back onto the mattress. She held her breath before she had to take a gasping inhale, eyes watery as they looked up at him. It hurt, like he said, but not in a bad way. The new ache was satisfying as he pressed all the way inside, balls flush with her ass as he slowly rocked his hips against hers.
“I warned you.” He murmured, thumbing a tear away from her cheek. “There’s so many deprived things…. I want to do to you…” he let his eyes fall shut as he pulled out for a shallow thrust, keeping most of himself inside of her. “So many filthy, nasty things that I have a feeling you’ll really love. But this time… I want to make you feel good. Want you to cum on this cock and know….” Nose brushing hers, he inhaled her exhale, squeezing her cheek lightly. “That I want to keep this pretty cunt, and I want to be the only cock allowed inside of it.”
Y/N’s head got a little blurry from there. The swell of emotion hitting her as he claimed her in that sort of way, his lips brushing her cheek and praising her for how well she was taking him and squeezing him tight, his thrusts getting harder, deeper.
“Look at me.” He commanded, finding his rythym. “Look at me, flower. Want you to give me your gorgeous eyes while I fuck you. There’s my girl.” His gaze shone with intensity and satisfaction and need, the gentle tone of his voice making it hard for her to look away at all.
The sound of their sex was wet and slick, his cock filling her up in slow, deep pulls that had her eyes blurring each time he got as deep as he could go. “This isn’t a one time thing. This is changing… our relationship.” He breathed against her lips, giving his hips a roll and watching as the pleasure of her clit rubbing against his groin hit her face. “That good with you, Flower girl? Y’okay with being mine?” In a contrast of the deep fuck, his nose nuzzled against hers. “I’ll be the best boyfriend. Keep helping with your house… take you to whatever bookshops y’want… bring you those pretty flowers you love but have trouble finding. Give you anything you want.”
Y/N didn’t need convincing that he’d be a good lover but the way he felt he had to plead his case with her was making her heart sing.
“M’tired of not being able to call you mine, not being able to tell people t’fuck off because you’re my girl. Everyone teases me because… god, I look like you hung the stars, but you did. You planted ‘em just like your flowers.” He rasped, making her whimper. Holding tightly onto him, she tightened her legs around him and enjoyed the reward of his groan as he kissed her. Clinging to his broad back and feeling the way she was encompassed by his size, she felt overwhelmingly safe and horny and all of the things she couldn’t even describe.
“Yes.” She nodded. “Uh-huh. I know. You can have me.” The answer was simple.
The blazing smile was something that nearly stole all the air from her lungs as he looked genuinely excited, slowing the thrusts as he kissed her again, but it was different. Something about it felt even more charged. Desperate. She wanted to feel the full effects. “That was the right answer, baby.” He mumbled. “I’ll ask in a better way when m’not inside of you, but I couldn’t handle another minute of not knowing. Fuck..” his smile prohibited the kissing, too wide for her to actually get somewhere and it made her giggle. Drunk with the pleasure of him pressed deep in her channel, she felt him start to go at her a bit harder.
“No more questions, angel. Just lay there and let me do what I promised.”
Y/N took his word and let him fuck her the way she hadn’t known she needed. Thoroughly, deep, punching out cries from her lungs that she had barely realized she was saying. Babbling to him as he shifted his hips and found the spot he absolutely needed, she let her head fall back and mouth fall open as he fucked the spot again.
The orgasm took her by surprise. “Daddy- oh… oh fuck-“ she shook, shocked by how fast and hard it hit her. The repetitive prods into it had worked her up, the heat flushing through her body as he continued. There was no slowing down, her body squirming slightly under him as she was slightly overwhelmed with pleasure.
“Oh… there it is, sweets. Did that feel good? Y’look so pretty when you cum for me, baby.” He crooned. “Prettiest thing in the world. Knew you’d struggle to take me but your cunt keeps squeezing me so tight… it’s perfect.” When she began to whine, he cut it off promptly. “Enough of that. M’gonna give you another one.” Thumbing over her chin, he pulled it open further. “Stick out that little tongue for me.”
Y/N did as asked, bleary eyes nodding up at him as he pursed his lips and spit right into the flat of her tongue. It was nasty and hot to add into the sweet fuck he was giving her, but she knew it had only been the begging. He was being nice this first time around.
“Oh, look at that. You’re so good when you get cock in you. Needed to be stretched and fucked, my gorgeous Flower.” He lifted a hand, slicking his fingers over the wet tongue. “Suck, bite… whatever you want. I need t’make you cum again.”
She didn’t need to be told twice, obedient in her fucked out form as she sucked on the two digits while he fucked her, harder than before. It was hard to decide if she wanted to push him away or pull him closer, nails running over his back as he groaned deep in his chest. There was something so erotic about him fucking her with little filter, eyes watching her lips as she bobbed her head on his fingers and breathed erratically as he sent her towards her next release.
“No more of those stupid, silly little hookups. No more boys who are… fuck, baby… who are gonna leave you high and dry.” His brows furrowed as his slick cock pummeled her, pathetic little noises vibrating against his fingers. “M’gonna make you cum each and every time. My girl isn’t gonna have t’go without. Jesus.” He pulled his fingers from her mouth and gripped her jaw, pinning her with his gaze.
He could feel her cunt pulsating around him. Slick and hot and so tight it was borderline too much, he’d been holding off and it was hard not to lose his mind after finally getting what he wanted, but he knew she was close and he wanted another. “Cum.” His lips brushed her wet ones. “Cum. Cum for me. C’mon…” the ghost of a kiss sucked her bottom lip, the panting between them heavy.
Y/N had to wondering how or why her body reacted to strongly to him, but right now all she was thinking of was how grateful she was to that fact. A broken moan of his name broke the panting, one of her leg falling from his hips as she came on his cock. It was a different sort of orgasm, feeling it from the inside out in a complicated way. She could feel herself gushing slightly as he fucked into her, a curse of his own leaving as her body felt weightless.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck… baby.” He whimpered, jaw slack as he pulled out and slicked his hand over his drenched cock. “Baby… baby, fuck.” His brain couldn’t come out with a different word pattern, white flashing behind his eyes as he felt his balls tighten and the first ribbon of cum decorated her cunt. The deepest groan left his throat as he wobbled on his one hand keeping him up, milking himself of every drop of cum as he pointed it at her clit. It was messy, dribbling from her bellybutton to her swollen cunt, and he couldn’t do anything but admire it. “Holy shit.”
The girl acted quickly, gathering his face in her hands and kissed him sloppily. He returned it just as wet and messy, exhaling through his nose as he worked himself through the last of it.
The wind down was oddly the best part. Lazy kissing, her soft giggles as he brushed her sweaty hair back and peppered slow kisses over her face and down her neck, he loved the slow intimacy as he looked her over. Sated, soft, pliant in the way he wanted. “Christ… you’re beautiful.” His voice felt raspy as he observed her, the most vulnerable place someone could be and she shone bright in his sheets. “Mm… I may take up my earlier threat.” He mumbled as he turned her on her side, pulling her in.
“Which one?” She laughed, relishing in how he touched her. So gentle for someone who had just metaphorically broken her back.
“Keeping you locked up on my bed. S’even more appealing now than before.”
——-
“M’sorry.” Harry’s brows furrowed as she stood in front of his bathroom mirror. Taking a shower together had resulted in the shower sex one would expect, except this time he’d let her suck him off.
“Shut up.” She sighed, bumping him away as she used the brush to tame her hair. “I’m gonna be a little sore sitting down. It’s fine. And I have a feeling that isn’t even the toughest you get, so you’re gonna have to get used to me wincing.” Harry was beyond sweet for caring that she was a little sore when she had stood up from the shower bench, but it was to be expected.
“Don’t love the idea of you in any pain at all.”
“As sweet as that is, I’m fine.” Turning to face him, her hands cupped her cheeks and she gave him a sugary smile. “I’m hungry though. So you need to get me some sort of post coitial snack before I get grumpy. I’ll change the sheets.”
Y/N grinned as he narrowed his eyes at her, stamping a kiss to her cheek and giving her ass a swat before making his escape.
It was hard to fathom what had just happened. Harry had fucked her six ways to Sunday, multiple times, all the while basically asking her to be his girlfriend. It was a dream come true, but it happened so quickly that her head felt like it was spinning. The quiet time to think while she changed his sheets and pulled on one of his shirts had given her more time to process.
If she looked back at it now, it made sense and she was more than obviously oblivious. It was hard to deny it now. He was so attentive and kind and touchy in a way that should’ve lent a hand in her understanding his feelings but she’d been so hell bent on not getting her hopes up that she hadn’t been able to see what was in front of her the whole time.
Harry was a staple in her life, but it felt like now it was a relief to know he wanted to commit to her. He’d been the one to make it a point in saying this wasn’t just a one off. He wanted to date her. Be a boyfriend.
Fuck. Harry was her boyfriend!
That realization nearly sent her falling over but he entered the room with some cheese and crackers, grapes and water on a tray, and… a book? Her eyebrow raised as he placed the tray on the bed, padding over to his designated side of the bed- wow- and leaned up against the headboard.
“Was thinking we could eat and I’d read you some of the book.” He laid the suggestion out as he spread his legs, patting the space between them. “Want to know what the hype is behind this book that it’s got you and Gia in a tizzy. And I’m feelin’ a little selfish and want close to me.”
“Is this an excuse so I’ll hand feed you grapes?” Y/N joked but felt her heart in her throat as she got into position and felt him haul the tray over to her lap and flipped the book open.
“Maybe a little bit. But is it so wrong that I’d like t’read my girlfriend one of the books she bought today?”
Hearing it from his lips for the first time made her want to kick her feet against the sheets and squeal out loud, but she managed to control herself as she cleared her throat, tilting her lips up to kiss his jaw. “Nothing wrong with that at all.” She whispered, face flushed under her skin. “Here’s the first grape.” “Thank you.” He beamed, taking it between his teeth and crunching down. “Alright. Page one….”
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IF THE MONSTER UNDER YOUR BED NEVER HURT YOU, MAYBE IT WAS THERE TO PROTECT YOU. 🎈
Pennywise bonding with a teen!reader/ platonic
-> For technical reasons (for the plot to continue plotting), this chap focuses mostly on the past! Another thing... I appreciate your feedback and comments more than you realise, so don't hesitate to interact with my fics 🥺❣️
-> It's giving Stockholm Syndrome, I'm aware, but that's why it's called fanFICTION.
-> I think it's funny how each chapter turns out to be longer than the last. I'm getting hooked to my own writing I guess.
-> Pennywise the Dancing Clown: A trans-dimensional entity that shapeshifts and feeds on the fear -and sometimes the flesh- of kids and animals. IT hibernates for 25 to 27 years, then wakes up for 12 to 16 months, manipulating reality and slipping past the notice of adults.
Listen to: Ilomilo by Billie Eilish

~ 3 ~
Pennywise's POV 🎈
For five long years he has stayed awake, stalking the streets of Derry... waiting. Pennywise's usual cycle -hibernating after a killing and terrorizing spree- has been disrupted. This time, something -someone- kept him from descending to the deep slumber he usually craves.
He can't fully understand it, but it's because of you -the spark, the tug of connection he isn't familiar with. He's hunted countless children without a second thought. But with you... When he had expected you to cower and break, instead, you had resisted, you had played his twisted games and stared back at him without losing your soul. You had made him so curious. And that curiosity has gnawed at him enough to eat away at his rest, putting him in a sort of restless trance.
Every time he tries to slip beneath the Earth and to return to the darkness he came from, he feels a pull, a shudder that makes him cling to the surface for just a little more, for just another silly, little, stupid, meek year.
But as the years have been slipping by, something else has shifted in him as well -a subtle thing that feels almost like restraint. He still lurks in the shadows, his instincts are still telling him to frighten and to feed… but each time he sees you, that impulse falters. Instead of scaring you, he finds himself watching, almost guarding you from afar.
It feels a twinge of protectiveness -an urge that should definitely not exist in a creature made to hunt and devour. It doesn't get it, doesn't know why It lingers to ensure no danger befalls you, before It vanishes for the usual twenty-seven years. Almost as though, Pennywise the Clown is bound to you by something unexplainable, something that's kept him from retreating to sleep.
And It hates it.
The longer Pennywise watches, the more he wishes he didn't feel this way. But when he does try to stir up the familiar darkness within his core, it's dulled and quieted. All he knows is that his hunger has been overpowered by something else, something… protective.
And this fact is as unnatural as it is inappropriate, for no other than The Eater of Worlds.
1979 Derry, Maine
"Let's play another game..! I... There is... There's one we haven't played!"
The door creaked open and the clown stepped inside with a look you had never seen before on him. He wasn't smiling, wasn't performing... he was serious, unsettlingly so. A reminder that Pennywise wasn't -and isn't- a real clown, not in the way he pretends to be. Drool slipped from his red lips, glistening in the early morning light filtering through a crooked and badly shut window. He had probably just interrupted his breakfast -maybe to see you- and the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.
"What kind of game?" his voice rumbled low, sending a chill across your skin. Your stomach tightened and you swallowed down the bile that rose. His piercing, yellow gaze left you feeling exposed.
You struggled to think of something, anything that could buy you more time. You had to say something, or else he would just get pissed and maybe have you for breakfast, instead of the one he was -so rudely- interrupted from.
"The first one to… If I can name one friend before you do, I get to leave. If you win… You get to do whatever you want with me." You knew you were cornered, but the words had come out anyway.
A strange look flickered across his face.
"What's your name?"
You frowned at what sounded like an absurd thing to ask out of the blue. "Y/n."
He giggled.
"Oh really?! And I'm Pennywise the Dancing Clown! Now we've both properly introduced ourselves... We can be friends!!!"
The point of the game was for you to win... but he just had to be a smartass.
"WE CAN'T- CAN'T BE FRIENDS!"
Pennywise pouted, almost like a child who's just been told no. You could see the contradiction in him as he considered your words -a clown who loves games, whose eyes practically gleam with excitement... and yet a predator who's always calculating, always one step ahead, keeping his prey exactly where he wants it. He knew you had just tried to outsmart him, yet he stepped closer, drawn in by the idea of another game. Your captor knew way more about you than you had realized -he had been watching you long before he had decided to 'kidnap' you.
Actually, your desperate answer made him leave his spot by the doorframe and advance toward you, crouching down to your eye level. You were paralyzed in fear he could probably smell. Even while holding your breath, you could feel his own on your face... It smelled like a butcher's shop.
"Don't. Shout. At. Me."
You nodded.
His drool was still glistening.
"You're not leaving either."
Another nod.
Then, he left the room.
Later, you'd realize he had let you have your way with that idiotic game purely out of boredom -a way to break up the ancient routine It'd followed since the beginning of time. But in that moment, you were just trying to survive.
What happened next is clouded in fragments, your memory blurred by fear -or maybe it's nostalgia. Somehow, over time, you became something to him. Indeed... a friend... of sorts.
As more days passed, you dared to start speaking more freely, filling the silence between you. You'd mention that you were cold, or hungry and he would tilt his head in that curious way of his. The next day, a bag of chips might appear on the bed. Once, you coughed, your throat parched. Fortunately, you managed to murmur "water". A few hours later, there it was -water in a bowl.
You found your book -Alice in Wonderland- left in a corner of the room. You read to him, each word trembling from your lips but never letting your voice falter fully. Pennywise would sit at the edge of the bed, sometimes even curling up like a cat -making you question if he had any bones-, his gaze fixed on you with an unnerving intensity. You were scared that when you finished reading the book, your life would end along with Alice's story.
But it didn't.
Still, sometimes you made desperate attempts to escape, bolting to the door. But he'd catch you with a taunting grin.
"Tag, you're it!" he'd chuckle, pinning you effortlessly. "Winner gets a prize!" he'd mock, as if the only reward he needed was to see your defeated face. But despite the mocking, the punishing appearances of the enormous cockroach stopped.
Even his gaze softened over time, slipping from the predator's yellow stare to an electric blue. The games also shifted -grew less cruel- and with them, so did he. He no longer seemed intent on hurting you and instead, observed you with a cautious neutrality.
Each day It brought you random bowls of food and water -most likely stolen from unsuspecting housewives... And sometimes, It would linger just outside the door, listening to your voice as you read to yourself.
One evening, you found yourself in the backyard, gazing up at a lilac sky. He had taken you there -unbeknownst to you- because he had brought a little snack inside and didn't want that to scare you.
You missed your old life with a pang that made your throat burn, a feeling so deep you didn't even notice him approaching. Without thinking, you pressed yourself into the clown's chest, burying your face against his ruffled collar. His strange scent -a mix of damp earth and something much older- washed over you and for the first time, you felt… safe with him.
He didn't hug you back, didn't mimic the gesture, but his voice murmured strange words about humans, their fragile nature and then the usual pet name he would call you: "little one".
It was then that you realized -he wouldn't hurt you. Not now. Not after all this time. But the realization broke something in you, a dam holding back all the emotions that had been bubbling under the surface.
"Y- You won. You won!" you stammered, choking back tears. "I'm your friend! Kill me now!"
You collapsed to your knees and he watched -bewildered- as tears streamed down your face. For a moment, he just stood there and watched you cry. Then, tentatively, he reached out in an almost inquisitive manner, to catch a tear with a long, white finger and taste it. He seemed to pause, reflecting on something only he could understand.
And then on another day, another attempt to escape. You had found a tiny window in the basement and tried to squeeze through it. But he noticed, his monstrous form scraping against the window's frame, shattering the glass in a frenzy to reach you.
When you saw the shards cutting into his skin... You froze, guilt flooding over you. You returned to his side while murmuring apologies, your hands trembling as you pulled the glass from his wounds, piece by piece.
He didn't attack you -just stared at you with a seriousness that sent chills down your spine. You knew in that moment, that you had crossed a line, that there was something between you that shouldn't have been there -because you could've left but didn't and because he could've killed you but didn't either.
When you finished pulling out the glass pieces, he was pouting at you. "Meanie..." he said and stuck his tongue out.
In the days that followed, Pennywise grew quieter. He watched you differently, as if seeing you with new eyes -ones that held a warmth you'd never expected. And in a way, it made you feel… comfortable. Comfortable enough that one day, you dared to reach out, brushing a hand along his white cheek.
He froze under your touch, as if unsure how to react -his usually fierce, yellow eyes softening to that strange blue. A low sound rumbled from him -somewhere between a purr and a growl- and he tilted his head, pressing into your hand like a cat, seeming almost… content.
But that wasn't right. He wasn't human and he definitely wasn't a pet. It was something ancient and boundless... and yet here It was, in its favorite form, accepting your touch and even starting to crave it. You pulled your hand away and his eyes opened, watching you in a way that felt unexpectedly intimate.
Time continued to flow onward.
You were now given strange meals in even stranger containers -a cracked bowl, a chipped mug, even a metal dish that you could have sworn was meant for a dog! He didn't seem to understand the details of human routines, didn't quite grasp what you needed beyond food and water. Yet he tried, even if it were in ways that felt utterly alien.
One evening, just as the sun began to dip, you asked if you could go outside again. You hadn't meant it as a real question, but in the morning, you found the door to the backyard unlocked.
You didn't dare leave the property, but you enjoyed how the air was fresh and the grass was soft and the sky a little cloudy. You stayed out until evening came.
Pennywise watched you from a distance, the colors of the twilight reflecting in his eyes, giving him an almost haunting beauty. He joined you, sitting in the overgrown grass... murmuring things in a language that sounded both ancient and musical, like whispers from an old spell.
In the quiet, you leaned against him, letting the stillness speak for you both. And though he didn't return the gesture, just like last time, he didn't pull away either. You looked up at the stars, feeling that deep ache for home... He patted your head in a comforting manner... and in that moment you could almost believe he was a friend.
You were just a kid, but even with your naivety, deep down you knew the truth -he was a monster that had killed before and would kill again. Yet for now, he seemed content with your presence, more curious than threatening. He tilted his head, watching you with softness in his gaze, as if pondering the mystery of your existence.
Somewhere in your heart, you felt the shift. Pennywise, the monster, had grown attached to you. And you… well, you couldn't deny the attachment had become mutual.
The days blurred together even more after that, filled with silly games, with quiet moments and fragments of a bond you could neither define nor understand.
And yet, even as you tried to push away the thought, you feared that someday he might wake up and no longer see you as friend, or even as a curiosity, but as something he was hungry for once more. Still, in the quiet of the night it felt like a small, tragic eternity -two beings from worlds apart, drawn together and held by something both tender and terrifying.
The last days in the house at Neibolt St were the strangest. Pennywise grew quiet, almost pensive, as if some hidden clock was winding down inside him. You noticed how his smiles and giggles were fading, as if the game he'd once delighted in was losing its thrill. Sometimes, he would simply watch you with an unreadable expression, his eyes that odd, bright blue that almost felt... sad.
You felt a pang of sympathy for him. For all his power and for all his malevolence, he was still somehow... alone. You had felt it in those strange moments when -almost wistfully- he'd listen to you talk and read.
The last night felt different, filled with an air of finality.
As you laid on your creaky bed, you noticed him standing in the corner of the room, like some sort of sleep paralysis demon. He was staring at you with an intensity that used to scare you three months ago. You felt the impulse to speak, but you knew he wouldn't respond. Instead, you held his gaze, feeling a strange sense of sorrow settle over you.
When he finally spoke, his voice was almost too soft to hear.
"Little one, when you leave…will you forget about me?"
The question caught you off guard and you didn't know how to answer. You wanted to tell him that you wouldn't, that everything you'd been through would be impossible to forget. But Pennywise knew that memories could fade, that as you grew older, the edges of this nightmare would blur.
You just stared at him, searching for the right words.
His eyes held a strange depth, a rawness you hadn't seen before. But he didn't wait for your answer. He simply turned, drifting back into the shadows as he whispered...
"The game isn't over."
And as he vanished, you were left in the cold darkness, with the silence pressing down around you like a final embrace. You clutched your knees to your chest, feeling the weight of those words settle heavily in your heart. You knew that even if you did forget him one day, some part of him would linger -an echo in the back of your mind, a memory that would never truly die.
That night, as sleep began to take you, you imagined him in the backyard... looking up at the stars and wondering if you'd remember.
It really felt like something precious had been taken away from you too early.
The next morning, you woke up in your own bed, in your home in Witchham Street.
For a moment you thought you'd died... Εveryone around you acted as though you'd never disappeared, as if those harrowing months at Neibolt hadn't happened at all. But there was one particular detail that hinted otherwise... A red balloon, floating silently at the edge of your bed.
That morning, you also got your period for the first time.
Stepping outside, the daylight was so bright and so warm, a stark contrast to the darkness you'd lived in for weeks. You squinted at the light, feeling almost as though you'd stepped into another world. It was hard to believe that just the night before, you had been in his arms -you had been seeking comfort from the monster who had held you captive.
Part of you seriously considered whether it had all been just a dream. Still, for days, you felt his absence like a missing heartbeat.
The world around you seemed much louder and the colors almost too vivid. Sometimes, you'd catch yourself looking for him in the shadows, half expecting to see his shape looming in the corners of your room.
At night you'd lie awake, thinking of his strange question...
"When you leave… will you forget me?"
You didn't know how to answer, even to yourself.
As much as you wanted to return to your old life and to move on from that nightmare, you felt a small part of you ache with the loss. You had lived through something impossible, something that had left you changed.
There was no going back to who you were before.
Over time though, the memory of him faded into something almost surreal. You didn't speak of it to anyone -the words felt fragile and sacred, as if telling the story might diminish it.
But the craziest thing that happened? You continued living as if everything was perfectly normal.
You only thought of Pennywise again that Christmas, in 1979...
The holidays had come to Derry and your family decorated the house with lights and garlands, the scents of pine and cinnamon clinging to every corner. There were gifts under the tree and snow falling outside the windows. Everything was festive and happy.
But when you woke up in your cozy little bedroom -on the 24th-, near the foot of your bed laid a single, crumpled sunflower. It must've been from the patch in the backyard where you'd sometimes sit with him, where the wildflowers had managed to grow despite the gloom. You held it gently, careful not to disturb its fragile petals. It felt like a memento of your time together -a reminder that what you had shared was real, however bizarre and terrifying.
On some nights, when the world was silent, you'd find yourself reaching for that sunflower, feeling the dried petals crumble beneath your fingertips. You'd lie awake, wondering where he was -if he still remembered, if he still waited. And though you'd never say it out loud, a small part of you hoped he did. Because no matter how much time passed, no matter how much you grew or changed, there was one truth you could never deny... He had left his mark on you, a scar that you'd carry forever.
And somewhere out there, you felt certain, Pennywise was waiting.
In the years that followed, you held onto those fleeting memories. They had a strange, magnetic pull -a mix of terror and fascination. You couldn't help but feel that if you let them slip, if you completely forgot, you'd be leaving behind a piece of yourself.
The Losers helped ground you.
They were your anchors to the present, pulling you back to laughter, to familiar faces and to the warmth of friends who shared their own scars and secrets. They never asked about the nightmares that sometimes made you stir, the shadows you occasionally saw out of the corner of your eye. And you never told them.
But there were also moments -quiet and lonely moments- when the weight of it all crept back, haunting you with unspoken questions. You'd wonder if he thought of you, if he missed you in his own twisted way. Did he ever feel the same hollow ache?
And deep down, you even wondered what might happen if he came back. Would he be nice and protecting? Or would he be just as monstrous and alien as before?
On some other nights, when the wind picked up, you swore you could feel his gaze -a distant yet familiar watchfulness that was both comforting and unnerving. It was as though he was still guarding you.
And so you moved forward, feeling the tug of those memories lessen but never fully vanish.
Would he stay away? Or would there come a day when that half-remembered monster with the childlike heart would find his way back to you?
1984 Derry, Maine
You tell yourself you hate Pennywise.
You tell yourself that, because you have to believe it is true, because that's the only way to move on. But deep inside your mind you can still feel him -his question echoing faintly in you, lesser and lesser each year, like a bond stretching thinner and thinner.
Currently, you're pondering over a glass of Cherry Coke. Yesterday, Bill had asked you about your dreams. He wanted to know if the clown that took away his little brother haunted you as well. You had simply shaken your head 'no', but the truth was the complete opposite.
Until you turned fifteen, Pennywise was still in your dreams. You remember those dreams even more vividly than your days in the house on Neibolt St...
You always had a strong imagination, which came with vivid dreams and equally vivid nightmares. In those dreams, Pennywise would come to you whenever you were scared. He'd pull you close in that tender way he never did in reality, fighting off every dark shape in your mind and then wrapping you in a kind of warmth you can't explain with words.
Sometimes, you'd apologize to him in those dreams -feeling an unnamed guilt- and he'd boop your nose with a soft and soothing "It's okie-dokie, Y/n."
Sometimes there'd be a red balloon waiting by your bed when you woke up, or maybe floating outside your school window. And on one specific evening, when the sadness felt like too much to bear, he appeared at the edge of your bed instead of the balloon. He hugged you and stayed with you until morning came, his glowing eyes softly illuminating the darkness. For once, they didn't scare you.
But as you grew up, you began to dream of him differently. In the nightmares, he'd chase you with a crooked smile and eyes that were dark with hunger, until you couldn't run anymore. Then you'd turn, tears streaming down your face, pleading with him and saying you were sorry over and over. You could never remember why you were sorry, but you knew that somewhere deep inside... you had hurt him. And somehow, you couldn't shake the feeling that it was you who'd let him down.
You tried to explain this to him, even though it was only in dreams -your Penny, who had watched over you. But he still seemed sad. So the dreams began to fade and he stopped showing himself altogether. Even then, you could still feel his presence, as if he was looking over you but choosing to stay hidden.
The few glimpses you have left are rather strange. Once, you had a dream with an uncanny intensity. It was the first different kind of dream -a dream where Pennywise was there as well, but puzzled, as you began to see him through a different lens. It left you feeling unsettled. Not sure what it meant, only that it somehow changed everything.
And still, each time you're scared, you call out for him in your dreams. You search, even while knowing he won't appear like he used to. Maybe it's because you had once blurted out that he was a killer, that he took innocent people like Georgie. It's all so blurry now, all these things you can't quite remember but can't entirely forget either.
You miss him.
You know Georgie's disappearance and so many others are somehow linked to that clown. But if his pattern is to stay on Earth for a year and hibernate for two decades (like Ben figured out), why then, hasn't he gone to sleep in five? It's almost as though he can't bring himself to leave.
Maybe you are asking too many questions. Or maybe you are starting to find the answers...
You're just a girl. And he… he's a boy in a strange, unfathomable way.
There are times when you think he's gone for good. But then there are other times -like when Oscar, the thick orange cat you've taken to caring for, curls up by you in a way that feels just a little too familiar. His stare, intense and watchful, feels more like an any ordinary cat.
You call him Oscar, but maybe -just maybe- you know it's him.
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I’m thinking about the sub!Aegon that thrives on skin contact and nuzzles into the reader’s chest. Going along with his mommy kink, do you think this would also have him wanting to suck on reader’s breasts as a way to comfort himself when he’s had a bad day?
I know you don’t write pregnancy stuff and I hope I’m not violating your limits on what you don’t write for! I don’t want to make you uncomfortable
Aw I love this! Also thank you for taking note of the fact that I don't write pregnancy related content. I'm perfectly happy to write this type of thing, I think it would stray into an area where I'd be uncomfortable if it involved lactation. This is perfect though!
This answer is mostly just soft and sweet but since there's literal titty sucking and implied sexual conduct I'll hide it behind a cute. Enjoy!
Right so firstly, I have said this before and I will undoubtedly say this again but, Aegon has an oral fixation. An absolutely massive oral fixation. He's always wanting something in his mouth, always!! He'll often chew on his shirt cuff or his necklace or quill. The only time he'll drink water without a single complaint is when there's a straw in the cup and then he'll very happily sip it slowly and even once it's finished he'll just keep the straw in his mouth, sucking a little and chewing on it.
He tries to hide this at first from you, because it's definitely something others have noticed and teased him for. His mother has told him multiple times that he needs to grow out of it but he can't help it!!! He often doesn't even realise he's doing it, and if he tries to stop then he'll get all antsy and wriggly, bouncing his leg or tapping his knee or twirling his hair, anything to try and get the same sort of fidgeting calmness but nothing else is as good.
But despite how hard it is to stop, he really really tries to once he meets and bonds with you. He's never had someone he wanted so badly to please before and he'd actually just start sobbing if he did something that made you think he was embarrassing.
Needless to say, this attempt at keeping this from you fails almost immediately. He already struggles to control the urges if he's trying his hardest to concentrate on not doing it, so to try and control when he's with you and you start to look after him and his little mind turns off? Absolutely no chance.
How is he supposed to keep any train of thought for longer than two seconds when you're holding his hand and calling him pretty? That battle was lost before it even began.
But he does try. In the beginning it was easier because he didnt know you as well so he wasnt as comfortable. He was able to keep himself more or less contained because he didnt see too much of you and had even less time alone with you. That arrangement can't last forever of course, and before long you two get closer and closer and then the real struggles starts. His main strategy to try and save himself is just not allowing himself anywhere anything that he could chew on. Maybe what breaks it is when he's tired?
A few months into the relationship he finds himself unable to fall asleep. Aegon always struggles to sleep if he thinks he's done something wrong. If someone yells at him or calls him a failure or tells him he didnt do something right then he'll often be awake the whole evening, unable to calm down or get over it.
Except now he's never alone in his bed anymore, and so he can't just curl up in a little ball and chew on the cuff of his sleep shirt. Well, that's what he tells himself. He tells himself that he won't do it with you there, but then you see how unsettled he seems and you let him curl up against your chest and you kiss his head and well.... the cuff is in his mouth before he even realises.
You spot it of course, but you don't say anything because seemed to have finally calmed down. You ask him about it the next morning and he blushes so red he looks sunburnt, and then immediately starts promising he'll try his best not to do it anymore. It breaks your heart to see how guilty and ashamed he seems over something that clearly brought him some level of comfort. You promise you won't judge him or it and say you don't mind at all. Even though you say this, he still tries to stop, though all future attempts are absolutely useless.
The first time he uses any part of your body for it is after you've dommed him and cleaned him up. You get him into bed, wrapping as many blankets around him as possible and then you cup his cheek, gently tilting his head upwards so he can see you when you say you're just running to the kitchens to get him a snack and promise you'll be back in less than 10 minutes.
Only, Aegon doesn't even hear the end of the sentence because you're gently stroking his cheek with your thumb and he's so sleepy and happy and utterly incapable of any thoughts at all, nevermind any rational thoughts. So he turns his head slightly and takes your thumb into his mouth, gently sucking on it. You're stunned, not only from the action but also how happy he seems? He was sitting up on the bed but now he's basically leaning over, trusting you to hold most of his weight. When you stroke his hair with your other hand he hums around your thumb and clumsily tries to wrap his arms around your waist to pull you closer.
Needless to say, you never end up leaving to get the snacks because you get pulled into bed and have a lap full of happy, clingy, fucked out Aegon for the rest of the night. It gets more and more common from there, and you even start to notice the signs in his behaviour that means he'll be asking for that later.
I think using your breasts for this would first come about after sex one night. Sometimes the only way to settle Aegon is so push him as close as possible to limit, to wring out every orgasm you again until the poor thing can barley even speak (it basically resets him). After things like that you always stay in bed for a while. You don't get out of bed to clean up and fetch things and do all those other aftercare chores until much later because aegon needs immediate cuddles or else he'll spiral. You've just taken him apart completely so you can't just leave him like that.
That's how you end up laying in bed naked with a very tired Aegon who has been reduced to whines and huffs. You pull him against your chest and then he actually starts paying at your chest? You're so confused and you pull away just enough to look at him. Of course this is absolutely no help because he just whines and continues what he's doing.
You eventually realise what he wants and then you lay down on your back and pull him closer, essentially just scooping him up and letting him curl around you. He instantly goes for your breast, taking your nipple in to his mouth. You worry he might be too harsh but actually he's so so soft? He barely even sucks, mostly just keeps it in his mouth and nuzzlings into you. He falls asleep within 10 minutes.
From there he does it often, first only as aftercare and then after that whenever he needs it.
In conclusion, that little fucker is lucky he's cute.
#aegon x reader#aegon targaryen imagine#aegon smut#king aegon#aegon the second#aegon ii targaryen#aegon targaryen x reader#hotd aegon#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fanfiction#hotd#house of the dragon imagine
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NSFW, size k!nk, fem human, no-named mech bc i'm a slut for too many of em but i had certain autobots in mind | minors dni
Imagine u and ur fav mech fucking for the first time, they're trying so hard to go slow but struggling because of how good your walls feels, squeezing and stretching all around him. He's trying to make sure you're not hurt while you're whining for more. He wants so badly to give in and give you instant gratification but he's putting your comfort above all else, his huge spike being swallowed by your body.
He can hardly find the strength to pull himself out to push back in. So his thrusts become a little quick, pushing in deep and slow, pulling out quick so he can feel more of you. He runs a cool metallic servo up your back, making you shiver from the contact. His voice calls out to you, with that small digital tone in it, "You doing okay?"
You nod, small tears of pleasure in your eyes. This was finally it. No more barely adequate thighfucking. You called out his designation, and added, "please keep going..." In a quiet yet frantic tone. It took all this mech's strength not to use you like a fleshlight then and there. He kissed your hand, dwarfed in size by his, to satiate the urge to use you. He knows you'd like to be used, but he likes having you safe and out of medbay. His hips are careful, but they find a rhythm. He holds your hip in one hand and the other clenching the corner of the berth underneath.
Being inside a human felt like pure heaven. Your juices coating his spike to take more of him in. He pushed deeper, and let out a soft grunt of satisfaction. He leaned back, looking at your nude body laying on his berth. This was unprecedented. Completely new territory between human and autobot. But it was already so addicting. His digits squeezed at your thigh, and felt the skin squish and slightly twitch in his grasp. He couldn't hold back the small smile forming on his face.
You whined, bringing him back out of thoughts, and reached your hands out to him. He knew you wanted him over you again. You enjoyed the feeling of being safe underneath him. And he enjoyed he made you feel safe. His hips find a steady rhythm fucking you, and he listens to your breathy noises underneath him. Neither of you had climaxed yet, but he knew he was gonna want to do this again soon.
#valveplug#my writing#size difference#fem human#mechs in mind:#Prowl#Sideswipe#Optimus Prime#bluestreak#sunstreaker#transformers#transformers G1#transformers g1 x reader#transformers fanfiction#transformers x reader#maccadam
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"Chocolates"

Warnings: smut, 18+
Summary: You and Pablo try out some special chocolates
Word Count: 1k
Reading Time: 4 min
A/N
This whole thing is actually not my idea, it was @amaranthineghost idea so all credits go to her and her post.
Hope you enjoy it, love you guys Magdi <3
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Pablo's body felt like it was on fire. Every muscle in his body longed for her. He didn't even know it was possible to feel so turned on as he currently is. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he looked over at you, hoping to see the same effect on you.
He shuddered when he glanced at you and found you sitting on the couch, looking completely unbothered like these damm chocolates didn't even do anything to you.
When you saw a video of a couple trying out these unique chocolates, you knew you wanted to try these things with Pablo, too. You two have been trying out new things in the bedroom lately. Not that there was anything wrong with your sex life, but you two are young and want to experiment a bit.
As you first came to him with the idea, he just smiled and waved you off, not believing a piece of chocolate could have such an effect on him. So you ordered them and made a challenge out of it. The one who lasts longer has total control afterwards.
Still not believing these things work, Pablo agreed instantly. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated things, so he wasn't worried he had to give away the control tonight.
Oh, how he cursed himself for making this bet now. He was slowly losing his mind. It was only ten minutes since you split one of these little squares. Little beads of sweat collected on his forehead as his sweatpants became tighter with every second.
He thought you didn't see him struggling so badly, but you did. You acknowledged every movement of his, every little huff he let out as he adjusted himself again. You had a perfect look at him from your peripheral vision, your phone screen long dark, you only had your eyes on him.
You would lie when you'd say you weren't affected at all. The warmth between your legs was growing stronger and stronger. You were just better at hiding it.
Pablo, on the other hand, was close to exploding. Because you just had to wear his favourite pair of shorts you own and one of his old jerseys with his name on the back.
The images that were flooding his mind were everything but PG13. As much as he tried to stop it, he couldn't. Pictures of you on your knees before him, his hands in your hair as his cock was buried deep down in your throat.
A choked sound left his lips as he bucked his hips up into nothing to get at least a bit of friction.
Smirking, you sit up, looking into his eyes with a smug expression, "You giving up?"
His face flushes bright red, "N-no I'm fine, totally fine."
"Ok, if you say so." Shrugging, you lay yourself on your stomach before him. Now, Pablo had a great look at how good your ass looks in those shorts.
Groaning loudly, he finally admits defeat. "Baby, come here, now."
Smirking, you stand up and walk over to him, making sure to sway your hips while walking. Now standing between his legs, you wrap your arms around his neck and close the distance between you two.
Feeling her soft, chapped lips against his own made every muscle shiver. God, how he missed that feeling. Almost like an instinct, his hands ran down her spine and flattened against her ass. Applying some force, he urged you to curl your body against his.
Finally, having her sitting where he needed her the most drew a sinful sound from his lips. "You like that baby? Huh, you like having me in your lap?"
Pablo's grip on you got tighter, moving you gently on his dick. "Mhm you know I love it, Amor." He whispered into your ear.
You two continued to share passionate kisses as you gradually became less clothed. Now, only in your underwear, Pablo moves to go on top of you, but you stop him.
"Hey, you lost the bet. I'm on top tonight."
Letting out a huff, Pablo moves to sit up again and guides you on his lap. Both of you let out a hiss as your core brushes over his clothed dick. You start to brush soft kisses all over his necked chest. While your hand slowly moves downwards, scratching his abs slightly with your nails.
"Mhm, fuck Y/N!" Your hand finally disappears beneath the cotton of his boxers. Pablo sucked in a sharp breath as you griped him in and slowly started to massage him.
Pushing his underwear down his thighs, you climb up again after removing your panties. Locking your eyes with Pablo, you slowly sink down on his length, letting out a loud whimper when he is bottoming you out.
Pablo's hands grip your hips tightly while he leaves wet kisses all over your collarbones. You start to move gently up and down, increasing your pace gradually.
Your nails claw into his back as Pablo starts to thrust upwards into you, your breath hitching with every thrust. Arching your back a bit makes Pablo hit your G-spot with every thrust.
"Shit Pablo, right there!"
"Right here, baby? Yeah, does that feel good?"
Your words coiled in your throat. The only answer you can give are high-pitched moans right into Pablo's ear.
Feeling the coil in his stomach get tighter and tighter, Pablo reaches down to rub your clit. Wanting you to come before him.
Pablo's finger flicking aggressively on your clit was the last thing you needed to cum. Clenching hard around him, you release your juices all over his lap, squirming at the overstimulation.
Grunting loudly, Pablo feels your walls clenching around him and shoots his load deep into you.
You two bask in the afterglow of two amazing orgasms for a few minutes until Pablo picks you up and carries you to the bathroom.
"You ok, Amor?"
Cuddling yourself deeper into his strong arms, you nod. "I'm good, and I love you."
Pablo giggles and snuggles you into the soft blanket of your bed. You were always becoming a big softie after sex, and Pablo thought it was the cutest thing ever.
Cuddling himself next to you, he grabs you and snuggles his face into your neck.
"Goodnight bebé, I love you."
"I love you too."
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#pablo gavi x reader#pablo gavi oneshot#pablo gavi x you#gavi x reader#pablo gavi icons#pablo gavi x y/n#pablo gavi#gavi x you#pablo gavi smut#fc barcelona
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❝right place, right time❞
IX. I'm the well they're gonna drag you down.



parts: previously / next plot: and they were rooommates. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, mentions of blood and stitches and drugs and alcohol, this chapter is fluffier because reader deserves a break, reader and bruce discussing their one-night stands, bruce thinks he's funny but he just can't hide how much he likes you okay, jealousy thy name is "disturbed". words: 6.9k. a/n: shoutout to allnurses.com contributing to at least 8 hours of research on how medications are stored in hospitals for one scene. any nurses in chat please do not stone me, I took creative liberties. also, in case there is any confusion, this chapter and the vignette take place all in (mostly) the same day.
The car gets about halfway down the street before Bruce observes out loud, "Something's bothering you."
You're clean and changed, but your hands are shoved between your thighs as you try to control their shake. Knowing what you know now, you have no reason to keep this from him. He is, by all means, the one person you should tell.
But you struggle to work up the courage without a mask looking back at you. The character of Batman you'd created in your head clashes violently with the character of Bruce. You'd written your own Jekyll and Hyde and tripped yourself up in the final act when it turned out they were one and the same, "You have a lot on your plate right now."
"So do you."
You resist the urge to grit your teeth, "It's about Judith."
Bruce thinks for a moment, "The old lady who doesn't like me."
"The very same. I... wasn't there for her last night, when I should have been. She was mugged on her way home."
Bruce doesn't make a big show of a reaction, though you notice he sits straighter, taking a break from gazing out of the window to glance at you every once in a while, "Is she badly hurt?"
"It could've been worse but... she's more shaken up than she wants me to believe."
"And her family?"
"Murdered." Bruce's car rolls by a street corner where a young mother wrangles her child back from the crosswalk, "I tried to convince her to have one of the deacons from church ride home with her from now on but she wouldn't listen. She doesn't want to be babied." Her stubbornness isn't at all unfamiliar.
"Did she see who did it?"
"She said some guys at the liquor store down the way. They hang out there every night," your eyes trail from the window down to the floor before finding Bruce's face. His profile is sharp and clean, the dark neck of his sweater stops just before the hair at his nape begins to cluster. Your eyes follow the bridge of his nose and it mirrors Batman's profile, a mix of pointed and blunt edges, "There's a... an heirloom in her purse. A lighter. She keeps it with her all the time. Her husband had it on him when he... well, he had an awful habit. She'd really like it back."
Bruce turns his head to you and you steel yourself. In the bright early morning, he is annoyingly resplendent. In the unfair way that all pretty people tended to be. It feels wrong to be asking him this. This is a stranger. You're begging for help from a stranger. You force down the sickness rising in your belly, "Please, will you-"
"I'll take care of it." He answers and it is final. He seemed to have made up his mind before you'd even asked.
The resolve in him is enough to slow your shake to nothing. There's a part of you that still doesn't quite believe what you'd seen last night, and so the certainty of Judith's well-being does not deluge you. It trickles down, dripping over your eyelashes, sprinkling off your fingertips.
You let yourself get caught up in his eyes the way you used to. You let the familiarity of them ground you and, though not with a sweeping acceptance, sigh in relief.
It's a small win in the grand scheme of steaming hot bullshit going on in your life.
You’ve taken things from General for Bruce’s sake before. Bandages and needles and disinfectants. This, however… this was a schedule II drug that could land you in prison if you got caught with it. And you were going to walk out of here with it like you were none the wiser.
A hand on your elbow forces you to slow down, drawing you back to your companion’s side. You don’t need to hear it so he doesn’t say it, but you’re embarrassed anyway. How Bruce maintains himself is enviable. “You’re a good actor.” Bruce peeks at you as you guide him through the first floor, “The thing with Gordon. You took it on the chin like a champ. You turned into a whole new person.”
“I avoid implicating myself when I can.”
“The party too. You diffused the tension, like, perfectly.”
Bruce hovers beside you as you call the elevator, a few patients and nurses lingering further behind. You can feel him probing your words for your natural line of thinking, “Couldn’t pull one over on you, though.”
No, you think, you just creeped me out while every bat-shaped clue flew right under my nose.
The elevator door slides open and the two of you squeeze into the back as the rest file in. You find yourself in a corner, braced against Bruce’s side as his hand reaches around your back to hold the railing. One of the nurses catches sight of him and swoons, the other trying (and failing) to look uninterested.
“Coming to see the new wing?” The swooning nurse asks, turning around to grin at Bruce. “Sounds like it’s coming along great. They make lots of helpful noise all day long.”
Bruce laughs good-naturedly, “Hopefully it’ll make up for all the trouble once it’s finished.”
The “uninterested” nurse nods, eyes frantically flashing from Bruce’s eyes to the floor and back over and over, “For sure! It’s really great you give back to General like this. Your dad would be proud.”
His face has no distinct reaction to it, nothing immediately telling that that comment hit too close to home. He smiles as he always does and thanks them as he always should do, and as they get off on the second floor, it’s just you two and an old man waiting for the next stop.
Bruce, to you, had long lived in his father’s shadow. The great Thomas Wayne who, despite his briefly smeared reputation, had been the face of the Wayne family for you. Even the some-twenty years after his passing had yet to shake that image from your brain.
It was his father’s legacy he was tending to here. All of the good and ugly that came with it. You couldn’t imagine how many times he’d heard his father would be proud. Did it comfort him? Frustrate him? Did he do this to make his father proud, or because it was expected of him?
Before the flood, you’d heard gossip about Wayne Enterprises going under, the reclusive in the tower giving no sign if he was alive or dead. Knowing what you know now, you wonder how much he truly wants to be a Wayne… with all the baggage that comes with it.
He’s wound tight. You can feel him against you.
Before you can talk yourself out of it, you find his hand on the railing beside you and cover It with your own. He’s shocked, judging by the way he jolts under your touch for a second. You think you’ve overstepped but when you go to apologize, he is already staring wide-eyed at you. Like when you’d caught him on the stairs.
The tension is still there, and his face has fallen in its warmth and friendliness. His hand had only partially slipped out from underneath yours, but as the seconds pass you feel it rest once more, not bothering to shake you away any further.
You both force yourselves to stare ahead until the elevator dings to let you out, but through the reflection on the door, Bruce is still looking at you.
You break first, distracting you both this time as you walk out, “You kept hitting me with your knee.”
Bruce, in a daze, asks, “What?”
“At the party. While me and Roberts were arguing, you’d nudge me with your knee like it was an accident.”
Bruce seems to remember who he is and where you are, because he quickly gets back to himself, “Guess I’m not that good of an actor.”
“Why’d you do it?”
“I knew where the conversation was going. I could feel you thinking.”
You remembered holding your breath as the mayor prepared herself for confrontation back then, “And the second time?”
“I was trying not to laugh.”
You flush. You’d been so impassioned that night, defending your hero who, unbeknownst to you at the time, was hiding a snicker behind his glass. You feared you’d be remembering a lot of moments like that over the next few days.
As soon as you both get into your office, you shut the door behind you, “I need you to wait here for me.” Bruce’s face tightens, “Don’t… argue. They keep extra vials of the antivenom down in the ER. I can grab one from the med room, but I can’t have you following me down there. It’s off limits for anyone without ID, let alone a patient and a donor.”
Bruce doesn’t look comfortable. Since last night, you hadn’t been anywhere Bruce or your police detail couldn’t follow. You hadn’t even been allowed to enter your apartment until the latter had deemed the place safe. A med room not much bigger than your office—locked behind an ID scanner—posed less of a threat than your two-bedroom ten minutes away.
But it was two stories down, and anything could happen in the time you were away from Bruce.
You can see the wheels turning in his head, trying to think up some plan that allowed him to remain by your side. You have to restrain yourself from feeling… flattered.
Flattery turns to bewilderment as Bruce reaches into his pocket and drops something into your hand. It’s a gadget the size of an AirPods case, shining in the light of the fluorescents. It looked perfectly unassuming and hid—lightweight as it was—a marvel of expensive technology. You could tell just by looking at it. “The hell is this?”
“It’s an EMP generator. Put it in your pocket and I can disable any communications within your vicinity, including cameras.”
“Okay, no. This is a hospital, and I’d be going into the ER with this thing. That’s too dangerous.”
Bruce looks offended. You can practically hear him say “You don’t think I’ve thought of that?” with his eyes. He silently holds his phone up to your face and you shouldn’t be as shocked as you are that it’s got live camera feed of the entire hospital. “I can control the radius. You said you trust me. So trust me.”
You swallow back your retort. You did say you were going to trust him on this. Whether or not it would be your doom had yet to be seen. You nod once, dropping the device in your pocket. “I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes. Fifteen at the most.”
Bruce’s lips purse together. He still doesn’t look settled with letting you go alone, but he has very little room to argue, “Ten minutes.”
You don’t waste time. You skip the elevator for the emergency stairwell, taking two steps at a time until you’re back on the first floor and walking to the ER. The med room at the very end of the hall would—if you were lucky—be as empty as the waiting room. All you needed to do was get in, grab what you needed and very quickly get the hell out of there. Without raising suspicion. You can feel the phantom pull of Bruce’s hand on your arm, begging you to slow down before you draw unwanted attention.
You round the corner to the med room, scan your ID, and head in.
The two nurses waiting inside greet you, analyzing you curiously, “Hey doc, need something?”
Words rattle in your brain like a d20 on a deception roll. You pray for something good, “I just wanted to grab some meds for my patient.”
One nurse sits at a computer, head titled in confusion, “Did you put in a prescription? You could’ve sent a nurse to grab it for you.”
Your eye catches the camera on the ceiling, its dark glass glinting at you, mocking you. A scrying glass recording your every move. And Bruce on the other side of it, hopefully buying you an alibi. “It’s a… special case. My patient needs it soon, so I thought I’d speed up the process and grab it myself.” You force a lightness into your tone, trying your best to appear apologetic and not at all suspicious.
The nurse hums. Then, she jabs the pen she’d holding over her shoulder, “Cart’s over there. Help yourself.”
You maneuver through the shelves separating either half of the room, keeping your head straight and eyes from wandering.
Your biggest hurdle was at the back of the room.
It’s a clunky cabinet on wheels with a monitor on top and an ID scanner on the side. In one of its many drawers, your golden ticket awaited, but these things kept logs of who checked out what, and if someone were to go through them later and find out you’d stolen a highly addictive drug without prescription…
You swallow. The generator in your pocket suddenly hangs heavy against your thigh. You glance at your phone for the time and note that four minutes have passed. You need to move quickly.
You approach the cart, fingers twitching at your sides, and right as you step up to the monitor, it flickers and goes dark. You give the power button a push for good measure but nothing happens.
Well, not nothing. You hear the cart drawers all click at once, like they’d unlocked by themselves. Tentatively, you try the top drawer and it slides out without issue. Glancing behind you, you check to make sure no nurses have wandered over, but you are the only one on this side of the room.
Your fingers drift down to the right drawer next and that one slips open too—by the grace of some god—and there you see it. It has an alien glow to it, a more subdued blue to its adversary’s green. The top of the tray holding the vials pops open with just as much ease as the drawer, allowing you to sneak one into your pocket. You shut the drawers, slowly backing away from the cart, but the monitor does not turn back on.
“What? This thing too?” You’re startled when the nurse from before suddenly jogs up from behind you, grumbling under her breath as she smacks the monitor.
You rush to cover, “It just went kaput on me.”
“Yeah, so did mine.” She maneuvers around the shelves and back to her desk where you see the other nurse at the desk scratching his head. Their monitor is glitching, having some gory digital stroke, “Here. You can sign out what you take for now and I’ll bother IT about this.”
You write down “Ibuprofen” and your name next to it, “Never seen that happen before.”
“Yeah. Thing froze up on me a minute ago. Guessing around the same time this thing died on you.”
Your stomach is still nervously fluttering, but you do feel a little smug. “Weird.” You hand her back the clipboard and go to grab a bottle out of a different drawer. “Good luck.”
You try not to sprint past the nurses as they fuss with the computer. You’re out and back upstairs before your ten minutes are up.
Bruce is sat leisurely on your couch, no doubt watching you scurry into the office on his phone. He looks from the pill bottle in your hand and back to you.
You toss the bottle into his lap, plopping down on the couch beside him. He frowns at the label. “For you,” you poke his injured leg and his eyes follow your every movement, “you’re favoring the other leg today.”
He can’t bring himself to deny that, even if the look he gives you from beneath his eyelashes says otherwise. You flash the antivenom at him as a peace offering. “How’d I look?”
His gaze flutters slowly from the vial to you before he shows you his phone. The screen is a recording of the medication room. It shows you greeting the nurses, walking up to the med cart, and then… nothing. Black screen for forty-five seconds. When it flickers back on, you're signing the clipboard and walking away. Your body sags into the couch with relief.
“You did good.” Bruce praises you.
“I thought I was going to go into cardiac arrest.”
“There are worse places to do it.” You look at him and he’s smiling just a little. You’re aware, though, that he’s aware of the toll this has taken on you. He takes the vial out of your hands and puts it in his own pocket, holding his hand out to you. “We should get going.”
Bruce follows dutifully behind you as you lead him back down to the first floor. You feel much better than when you'd arrived, but your heart stutters each time a security guard passes you by. Years ago, stealing and getting away with it was second nature to you. You were also arrogant back then, uncaring of what happened to you. How quickly the tides had changed.
You feel Bruce nudge you with his arm. He isn't looking at you, but you know what he's trying to tell you: you've got a few more hallways to turn down before the exit. You just have to-
Someone calls your name.
You spin around, nerves electrified, only to find Em running to catch up with you, "What are you doing back at work already? Is your arm okay?"
The adrenaline rush had done wonders for your pain tolerance. You didn't even think about it until she brought it up, "I'm fine, it's fine. It's-" You go to rush out some sort of explanation but at that moment, Bruce turns around.
You can see the moment of impact across Em's face as soon as she realizes who you're with, her back straightening and hand pressing down flyaways. In an instant, she has forgotten all about you. For better or for worse. She rubs her palm on her leg before holding it out to shake his hand, "Mr. Wayne! Hi! I'm surprised to see you here." Her eyes are twinkling, "Everything alright?"
"Just some leg pain, nothing painkiller can't fix." He flashes the pill bottle for good measure. You're honestly impressed he admitted to being in pain at all, "It's good to see you again, Dr. Madison."
Em's face droops into a frown, "Well, you look fantastic, but you've got a mirror," she pats your arm, "and I'm sure you're being well taken care of."
"Only by the best."
You smile (borderline pleadingly), preparing to dismiss yourselves while you still have your wits about you, but then Em asks Bruce a question and, to your surprise, Bruce is happy to entertain her.
It strikes you that you had landed in your situation with no prior interest in who Bruce was, and it shows in how you barely keep up with the topic of conversation.
It's like watching a tennis match between the two. The topic in Em's court, then Bruce's, then Em's, back and forth without issue. No awkward pauses or uncomfortable looks. She recalls details about him out of thin air, your knowledge in comparison merely fringes of what Em knew.
The longer it goes on, the more it weighs on you that aside from the strange man who'd circled around you like a frightened kitten, you really didn't know anything about Bruce.
You knew Batman. You felt you knew him. Even when his identity was still a secret, you had felt comfortable with him. Vulnerable, even. He'd let you touch him in your home, fixing him up and helping you with this mess and... outside of that, what did you really know?
You feel an odd twist in your chest.
Em's voice floats back in, disrupting your retrospection, "I've always wanted to go to Italy. You must get so sick of these places after having been so many times."
"They still have their magic," Bruce grins, "but I don't like being far from home."
"Really? You could go anywhere in the world and you'd still miss Gotham?" Em's tone is teasing, but curious. Something flickers in her eyes as if she'd just remembered something.
Bruce takes in the hallway, chest swelling with pride, "Lots of things to miss about it."
"Name one."
Bruce's eyes cut to the side as he thinks, "The noise."
"You can get noise anywhere. LA, Chicago-"
"It's special here."
"No, try again."
His smile turns sheepish, "The rain."
"Now you're lying. Come on, pretty boy. I know you've got something. Penthouse, nightlife- heck, I'd even understand the freaks and clowns giving everyone PTSD."
Bruce exhales, purses his lips. His eyes flit around the white walls, "Okay. I'd miss you."
What the hell?
You straighten up. The absurdity (blatant sweet-talk) of the line shouldn't work—seriously, it wouldn't work on you—but Em goes pink in the cheeks. A strand of dark hair falls from her bun and frames her smile just so, "Well," she snorts, "aren't you just a flirt?"
To your utter dismay, they are both eating this up. "You light up the room, Dr. Madison. Your patients are very lucky."
"My patients are usually seven and way more interested in the candy I bring them."
"Candy?" Bruce finally looks at you, all humor and charm, "I never get candy. I just get yelled at."
Something in you is disturbed when Em grabs onto Bruce's arm, hanging off him as she pouts at you, "Oh! You're heartless!"
"Very much so." Bruce is somber.
"I don't-" Your voice comes out strained, a little too defensive right off the bat, "I don't yell." But you'd gotten close, and you got closer everyday, "But if I did, you'd deserve it."
Bruce is amused. You watch as he pretends to cower into Em, even as he dwarfs her in size. They start joking back and forth, more teases at your expense, and you notice that the persona he puts on around others is practically nonexistent here. You'd watched it dissolve within minutes. It's refreshing, you realize, that he seems to really be enjoying himself right now.
You catch Bruce insisting that he ought to get going, sharing pleasantries and desires to visit once more. Em looks genuinely saddened to let him go. The second Bruce's back turns, Em reaches out and squeezes your hand, whispering, "Please tell me he's single."
You fluster. You imagine yourself in the car ride back to the tower asking Bruce what he thinks about Em, offering to exchange numbers between them, and you're disturbed again.
Twenty-four hours ago, you would've been warning her to run for the hills. Twenty-four hours ago, he was only Bruce Wayne. Now he was Batman and all that came with it and, well... once upon a time, you would've wanted nothing more than for Bruce Wayne to sweep Em off her feet. Batman had always been more your style.
Then, you realize, you don't actually know the answer to her question.
Em looks expectant. You shrug. She exaggerates her disappointment but releases you all the same, "Keep me posted."
"I'm comparing the samples from the crime scene to the antivenom. I should have something in a few hours." Bruce taps the antivenom vial, watching the remaining blue liquid slosh against the glass, before handing it off to Alfred.
You're mesmerized by this backyard (or, more aptly put, garage) chemistry lab. Beakers and flasks spread out on the long table as you watch from a stool a few feet away, "How'd you get so good at this?"
"College," after a few seconds of silence from you, he adds on begrudgingly, "I started messing around with stuff down here when I was 13."
"You had all this when you were 13?"
"Some of it, whatever I could get my hands on. I liked to see how things worked."
You have a unique opportunity to learn about Bruce here, so you take it with both hands, "You majored in chem, then."
"And biology, and physics."
Your eyes blow wide. "You had three majors?"
"I bounced from one to another, sometimes double majored if I liked the professors. I followed my interests and they took me everywhere," Bruce picks up the venom test tube, little drops of green pooling at the bottom of the glass, "I've enrolled in more universities than I have degrees."
Your eye twitches, just a little annoyed, "Must've been nice going wherever you wanted, whenever you wanted."
Bruce senses your tone of voice. He peers at you from the side, elbows resting on the table, "I spent a lot of time away from home. It must've been enough because I don't miss it."
"You said the same thing to Em earlier." You recall.
"I didn't think about it as much while I was gone, but when I came home for good... I just couldn't imagine myself leaving like that again."
"He barely liked boarding school," Alfred chimes in from the other side of the room, lazily reading a book at Bruce's desk. Boarding school was posh. You imagined little Bruce in a school uniform like the British boys in movies, "I should bring out the scrapbooks once we have a moment."
Bruce sets the test tube back on its rack with a bit of aggression, "Thank you, Alfred. You can go now."
Alfred chortles. He skims one more page of his book and then shoves it under his arm on the way back up. The elevator clinks and rattles up the tower until it stops some sixty stories up.
It's quiet now. You sort of appreciate the silence- the relative silence. There is the steady drip, drip, drip coming from here and there in the cave. The whirring of the machines, the humming of the lights, the very faint sound of a news anchor forecasting snowy skies this weekend. Bruce's breathing.
It's harder to hear unless you focus on it. His mountainous build hunched over the table—staring into the venom as it stares back—rises and falls in slow rhythm. You watch him being and it captivates you. For the umpteenth time since last night, you are struck with the reminder that this was Batman. In all his broody glory, an arm's length away from you, about a hundred feet under the city.
It's funny; you paid so little attention to the man before, and now you wanted to take him apart and examine his terrible insides. You have accidentally become obsessed with the man.
"I want to take you to Blackgate."
"Sorry?"
"Lucien is there," the name makes your blood run cold, "he was with the Vipers the longest. He could answer a few things for us."
You do your best not to immediately say no. Not because you think he'll force you, but because you know—somehow—that he won't, "What about Detective Gordon? Shouldn't that be his job?"
"I think he'll talk to you." Bruce turns slowly until his back is pressed against the desk, arms crossed over his chest and pulling his shirt completely taut. "He knows you."
You hadn't seen Lucien since the night Alex died. For once, you're kind of grateful Bruce can read you. He turns fully toward you, "I can go alone."
"You just said you think he'll talk to me."
"I can make him talk." His head droops a little to meet your eyes, expression impossibly understanding. You have no doubt he can. Your throat feels like it's on the verge of closing up. Somehow, sending Bruce alone to handle him felt worse.
"But you think I can..." You have to pause to force in a breath, feeling yourself go lightheaded, "You think I can get more out of him." Bruce doesn't respond to that. He's still watching you like you might start stress-sobbing. "Okay."
"You sure?"
"Mm."
Bruce calls your name. You'd been tracing the lines of his arms with your eyes to distract yourself, not processing how much closer he'd gotten until you feel his breath against your eyelashes.
His arms are uncrossed now, one hand pressing into the table beside you, the other hovering by his hip. His fingers twitch. Does he want to touch you? You were about to go three for three with the crying in his arms thing.
You force yourself off the stool and the speed at which you stand gives Bruce very little time to react. Your chest bumps against him, but you're already slipping behind him, "Lemme see your stitches," you rasp, hand ghosting over his shoulder, "need to... redress them, probably."
Bruce tries looking over his shoulder at you but you hide behind him and after a moment, he relents. His shoulders drop in defeat. You watch him drag your stool into the light and sit.
The dismal mood did you a favor. He looked like he'd be submissive today.
You're halfway through clearing away his dried blood when you ask, "Are you single?"
Bruce's shoulder jolts just the tiniest bit, almost driving your finger into the stitch. "What?"
"Em asked," you quickly explain, "and I realized I didn't know."
You don't know exactly what he's thinking, but his answer is as straightforward as you could hope for, "Yes."
"Oh."
"You sound surprised."
"I mean... I sort of assumed..." What did you assume, exactly? You couldn't see him with a long term partner, definitely not like this, but the idea that there wasn't anybody didn't sit right with you, "no flings? Situationships, even?"
"Why? Is Dr. Madison interested?"
Your jaw clenches. You force the muscles in your face to relax, "I just don't want any secret lovers of yours adding me to their shitlist if I go through with your plan. I can't stress how little I want to fake-fight over you right now."
Bruce huffs. You finish cleaning around his wound when he pipes up again, "I had something... someone. It didn't last."
"Oh. Are you... tender about it?"
"Not anymore. I don't have time for that kind of thing anyway."
He says it like it doesn't bother him, but in the way someone might brush off a scrape on the knee or a paper cut. Like it stung, but you had to be a big boy about it. The pain would go away eventually.
You press new gauze over the stitches, taping it down as gently as you could, "I assumed someone like you would have a whole lot of someones, a revolving door even," your eyes flit over his other bruises and healed cuts, "I never made time for relationships either. I was kind of just going through the motions."
"No one interested you?" Bruce rolls his shoulders once you peel away from him. He doesn't look at you when he asks that.
"Just... childish crushes here and there. Sometimes I'd let someone take me home..." Your voice catches in your throat for a moment. You recall a stamped down memory, one of you standing blindfolded in your apartment imagining the Batman with his mouth on your throat. That wasn't very long ago. Your breath shudders as you fit Bruce into the memory instead. You don't... know how to feel about it.
"Never back to yours? And here I thought Judith was just hard on me." You belatedly register Bruce standing, rolling his shirt up his arms before pulling the neck over his hair. His question hangs lightheartedly.
Your shoulders sag, "You're not gonna believe me if I tell you I was paranoid about letting one-night stands into my home."
"Why? 'Cause you let me in?"
The back of your neck grows hot. "What about you? You ever bring yours back to the cave?"
After he's done tucking his shirt into his pants, Bruce shakes his head at you, "No. Just you."
That was the second time he'd said that to you. You were starting to feel special.
You step out of the shower and you think, almost as soon as your foot touches heated floors, that you really despise Bruce Wayne.
The towels are warm too, waiting for you as you preen yourself in the mirror, a clean you staring back. You kept your toiletries bag on the bathroom counter, afraid to unpack anything as you rustled around for deodorant. It was massive and quiet. The water pressure alone had you swearing at the marble lining of the shower.
Bruce eventually lured you downstairs with the promise of making dinner. Alfred was skeptical, but had backed off and allowed Bruce full range of the kitchen, still possessed by his book next to the fire.
He'd asked you what you had the stomach for. Eventually he was copying something out of a celebrity recipe book with you beside him.
You argued that he hadn't really made you dinner given that you had helped him do half of everything, but it was his ingredients and it was his kitchen and the food tasted good so you didn't argue long.
After Alfred offered his stamp of approval, he'd retired for the night and left you and Bruce in the kitchen to clean up. Bruce had left the pots and pans to you when you proved too nervous to handle the porcelain, "Alfred won't kill you if it breaks."
"Alfred would kill me for less, I think."
Bruce gives a short laugh, drying off the last pot. He's pouring you a glass of the wine you'd opened last night when you slide his little gadget across the counter, "I forgot to give that back to you." You swirl your glass, admiring the color as Bruce packs away the leftovers. "You looked like you were enjoying yourself with Em earlier."
"I was. Your friend is funny."
"I... also noticed something you said. When she asked you what you would miss about Gotham, you mentioned the noise and the rain. Would you really miss all that?"
Bruce glances at you, popping a top onto a glass bowl, "Of course. It's part of what makes the city."
Your eyes narrow, searching for the lie, but there isn't one. He's being sincere. "Is that why you became Batman? Because you love this city that much?"
You can feel the mood getting doused with ice water. It forces you upright in your chair, makes your hand clench around the stem of your glass. Anyone with eyes could tell you'd just touched a nerve.
But he answers you, intense as it comes out, "I hated it." The loathing is a mere shell of what it used to be, you can tell, "I hated what it took from me." His eyes cast down to the countertop. "At first, I was aimless. Everyone was worried about the future of the company but Alfred and I were just trying to make it through the day. Over the years, I boiled up with this... restlessness. I still didn’t know where I was going but I was full of something for once. I studied, I traveled, I learned from all manner of teacher. And when I came home, I was... determined."
His words sit heavily on you. You can see flecks of that restlessness in his eyes, the slight tremble of his hands as he rests them against the countertop. "Why a bat?" You whisper.
"They're what I feared the most."
Past tense. "Feared?"
"I got over it. I won't let them close enough to bite, but..." The humor in his voice breaks the intensity of his expression.
You mull that over, "You became what you feared to strike fear."
"Not anymore," his head shakes, "fear is a tool, but... there's enough fear in this city. I wasn't making a change, I was making it worse."
You remembered the first time you'd ever heard of the Batman. Back then, he was just "Vengeance". In the grand scheme of fucked up things this city had to offer, someone running around dressed as a bat didn't register as abnormal. Another Tuesday, maybe. You awaited what they'd say about his crimes: a mugger beaten and strung up on the street, a gang felled and dropped at the GCPD's door. You remembered something stirring in you when he put away the Joker.
"I remember when you became a hero. Like really, to everyone. When you took shape… they were flying in people. I was rushing in patients while you stood on top of the Garden and pulled people out of the flood. I hadn’t felt hope like that since… yeah."
Your admission moves something in Bruce. His eyes find yours, "I was just doing what you'd been doing for years."
"But I never left that hospital. You transcend boroughs, the gangs, everything. I used to think you couldn’t possibly be one guy. I still can’t believe it. How are you not dead on your feet by now?" Bruce smiles knowingly at you and you feel yourself flush, "Besides that. You’ve been doing this for longer than I've been around to patch you up."
"That would be Alfred."
"You should tell him, you know. That you appreciate him. I think he'd like to hear how much he means to you more often." Bruce's eyes soften. He doesn't debate you. "Anyway. How's that sedative going?"
"I'll take another look before I leave tonight."
Oh, yeah. This guy is Batman.
You don't know when next you'll get this chance, "Can I ask a favor? Can I... watch you put it on?" Bruce wobbles to the side, genuinely confused. "The suit?"
He examines you, mouth almost curling up into a shocked smile. He hadn't expected you to ask that, that's for sure. "All of it?"
You grip your glass so hard you think it might shatter, "No." And then, when he has the audacity to snicker, "Asshole."
He stays true to your request.
You watch with your back pressed up against the wall. His under suit hangs undone at his hips while he leans over his desk, digging his fingers into a can of black paint. He uses the reflection of his computer screen to smear it over his eyelids and under his eyelashes until the white skin beneath disappears.
Next is zipping up the under suit. You barely resist rushing over to hold his bandage steady as the suit catches on it, but he manages to get it up and over without pulling it off. Then come the plates of armor. Each piece clips into place, clinging to his waist and chest and arms. You've seen it up close enough times to know the quality of it, a wonder how he'd gotten his hands on that kind of stuff until now.
You don't ask him to, but when it's time to put his cowl on, he turns sideways so you can see.
His gloved hand combs through his hair, pushing back the longer strands so he could fit the cowl over it.
It's kind of embarrassing how it takes your breath away. Bruce had quite literally transformed before your eyes, and now there was no denying it.
Bruce stands still as your eyes bore into him.
After a few seconds of admiring every piece of the suit, your eyes flit up to his face. He's not looking at you, almost shy. Apart from Alfred and, perhaps, his someone, Bruce has probably never put on the suit in front of anyone else. Is it weird you missed seeing him shy? "It fits perfectly." Your voice is barely above a whisper.
Of course it does. You know it's dumb to say. Bruce doesn't say that, though.
He waits a beat before turning away from you, his cape sending a breeze of cool air up against your legs. His car awaits on the train tracks, headlights beaming into the near endless darkness as he approaches and you follow.
The car thrums eagerly with life at the push of a button, sending vibrations through the ground, all the way up to the ceiling where you hear a sudden flurry of wings and chirping. Bowing your head close to Bruce, you watch about a hundred bats scurry about above you, disturbed by the sudden rumble of the engine. Bruce holds his cape over your shoulder, though none of the bats fly low enough to concern him. "They don't freak you out a little bit?"
"They haven't bothered me."
"Well, when you dress like them I guess they get confused."
"I'll be back before sunrise," Bruce promises, "and I'll look into Judith for you. Maybe you should... call first."
You're tickled by the discomfort he's so desperately trying to hide, "Scared of a little old lady?"
He pointedly ignores you. You step back as he throws open the door and settles into his car, but before he can pull off into the darkness, you shout his name to get his attention over the roaring engine, "Hey! Be safe."
Bruce looks at you and... you don't know what he's thinking, only that the muscles in his jaw relax a bit. Was he used to that? Did Alfred often stand on the cold, empty train tracks before every patrol and wish him luck on another night of beating criminals to a pulp? Was he used to the worrying? Annoyed by it, even?
He doesn't say anything. The car leaves in a spray of dust and you hide your face in your shirt to shield yourself from it. By the time the dust settles, you can only see two red lights blurring into the distance.
#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne scenarios#bruce wayne fic#bruce wayne#batman x reader#batman scenarios#batman fic#the batman#battinson x reader#batman fluff#batman angst#battinson#mjwrites#bw; rprt#fandom; dc
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Khonshu NSFW alphabet
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
It depends on his mood, or how well you behaved
Sometimes, if he was too rough with you, he will take the time to clean you off, massage any tense muscles or, as cliche as it seems, tuck you in.
If you didn't behave... He might just leave you a trembling little mess, and crack a few stale jokes about how wobbly you were walking to the bathroom to clean yourself up ;)
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
His favorite body part of his? It's difficult to say... but if he had to pick... his hands. They're so much larger than you, and the way you fall apart beneath them drives him insane.
His partner's body part? Your chest. Regardless of gender, it's always going to be the chest. The excited thrum of a beat, almost like a caged bird, all for him? Because of him?
Combine that with his hands and you're going to wind up naked and trembling beneath him, regardless if it's the first time of the night... or the tenth.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Sorry but the dude is fucking gigantic. The quantity is... a lot.
So much so you can never swallow all of it, or even fit all of it inside you. You almost always wind up wearing just as much that gets inside of you.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He has a fantasy of fucking you in front of someone who thought they could keep you for themselves. (Like an ex, or some prick who got too handsy at the bar)
Dude has fucked, I'm not gonna lie. Even in myth the dude has smashed. But just because he's his a dry spell that's lasted... a while thousands of years cough cough... Doesn't mean he don't know how to make your head spin and your legs give out.
He's... incentive, if nothing else. And willing to indulge in a few of your kinks, if you want to, even if you have to educate him on them,
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
He has two.
The first, is beneath him, his hands grasping your hips as he just fucks into you, feeling how slick and sweaty you can get beneath his hands.
The second, is you riding him. Whether he's laying down and looking up at you, or sitting up and holding you close... He loves it when you show him how badly you crave him, he loves how you can get haloed in the light of the moon, or any candles you may have lit.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Have you seen this mf? Serious.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
No hair, lmao
Bro technically doesn't even have a head.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Khonshu can be very romantic, if the setting is right. Like Aftercare, it depends on his mood.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Before you, Khonshu never felt the urge.
But.... after? When you aren't available--or you aren't in the mood, or are being a shithead and tormenting him--he will indulge, imagining it is you sliding up and down his length instead of his hand.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Breeding kink. I've said it before, I will say it a million more times. He is a god of fertility; he can't help but imagining knocking you up, creating a little life with you. Even if you don't have the corresponding anatomy to get pregnant.
Another one is, as much as he wants to try and fill you up entirely, he very much loves to cover you with his seed, or push any excess he can fit back inside of you with his thick, massive fingers.
Ngl, I feel like he's a tad bit of an exhibitionist. Or at the very least, he kind of likes it when you're at the risk of being caught, of watching you struggle to keep your voice down while he is unabashedly vocal about it to egg you on further. Even if he cast some sort of spell that nobody can see you anyway. The bastard is a tease ;)
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Most of the time, somewhere private; or "romantic". Does this mean he will teleport you to some cliffside retreat, or forest haven to rail you in? Yes, absolutely.
But if you're not the type, Khonshu will definitely settle for your bed... Provided it's strong enough to bear the weight of a god in the throes of passion, anyway...
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
When you're bratty, or being a tease.
Almost every time, it gets his blood boiling when you get lippy with him, or give salacious touches in passing; the man will want to fuck you until you see stars.
Another way, is if you're wearing something that he has given you. For example, say he gave you a necklace bearing his moon... if you lay yourself out in nothing but that necklace? Yeah, remember how I said you'd wanna make sure your bed can handle it? Because it's probably breaking tonight.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Will not do things like cut you, or permanently hurt you. Spanking, or some playful choking, yes. But he will not actually hurt you during sex. So don't ask.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Er... since my dude has a bird skull... I don't think giving oral is in the cards.
If he is using a human body, on the other hand? He will give oral like it is his life's purpose; like every drop of your sweet release was the finest wine.
Now, receiving on the other hand... Yes. Hell, yes. Whether your experienced or not, the way you struggle to take his cock into your mouth can make his head spin and his ego swell. It's like watching you worship him, in a lewd way; he'll pet your head to encourage you along, all the while teasing you:
"Struggling, little bird? Ah, you look so lovely like this, though..."
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
It depends on how you both feel, if the pace is mutual.
Sometimes he can be slow, sensual, taking slow, deep thrusts just to watch your eyes roll back...
Other times Khonshu will pin you down and just fuck into you like he will die if he doesn't.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Not too fond of them, but he will indulge you if you need it. He prefers to have time alone with you, to unravel you like a divine gift.
Say you were on break from work, and stressed tf out... He will be down to finger you or fuck you nice and quick to take the edge off.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Like I said... Khonshu is a bit of an exhibitionist. The thrill of someone catching you excited him mostly because of how tight you get when you think someone is about to catch you--how fast your heart beats and how hard you squirm.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He. Is. A god.
He isn't ready to stop until you have to tap out, or pass out.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He doesn't own toys, but if you broach the subject, he will enjoy using them (on you) very much. May even conjure something special, made of gold ;)
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
C'mon. You already know the answer to this one.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He will use typically an even, vocal tone if he is talking during the act; but if he want's to act like he wants to get caught? He will get loud.
As for grunts, moans, growls? Oh, his voice drops so low you can feel it in your bones--like a tiger's roar can trigger paralysis due to the infrasound--only this can send the most wonderful of thrills through your body
Extending the fucking you in front of someone fact, he also kind of wants to imagine him fucking you in front of the other gods, to prove how good it can feel to be so close to mortals.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
The old man is hung. I'm talking, like at least 12 inches hard. If you're a size queen/king, he will definitely coo at you and mention how well you're taking him.
If you're inexperienced, Khonshu will do whatever he can to make sure the act is pleasurable for you, too. Be it stretching you with his fingers first, or using his hands on you while he strokes himself off if you're hesitant to take him inside, he will always ensure comfort and no harm comes to you.
If you are still too scared to take him in his "true" form, in any human form he takes (I'm not talking about possession) his dick is around 7-8.5 inches. A bit of work, still, this is true; but it is far easier to manage than the orifice destroyer he's packing in his godly form.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
When it comes to you, it can fluctuate. But if you're being a tease and denying him, it can get pretty unbearable and the littlest action will make him wanna rail you.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He's a god. He doesn't need to sleep lol
But he will slow his chest's rise and fall, hold you close so you can sleep snuggled next to him.
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Hi! I love your writing. I was wondering if I could request Wanderer with a sub afab reader with a degradation kink please 🙏. If not, feel free to ignore.
✧・゚:* ->Wanderer x Fem! Reader
✧・゚:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Degradation, Modern AU, Phone sex, You call him Scara, Ending is bad, I wrote this while half asleep, Some praise, Fingering (yourself)!
✧・゚:* ->Minor writing smut! DNI if uncomfy!
Your boyfriend was away on a business trip that was supposed to last a few weeks and while you didn't object at first, after the first week or so you had to admit that his absence was making you lonely.
That also meant you had to rely on yourself for pleasure but no amount of toys or your fingers could make yourself climax like he did. Hell, you couldn't even orgasm in the first place. By the end of the second week you were extremely pent up and frustrated. You missed everything about him, his face, his fingers, his voice, his cock...
It didn't take long for you to finally open his contact and press call. He answered almost instantaneously and you felt your heart flutter when you heard his soft voice through the device next to your ear.
"Hello?" "Scara, I miss you so much...you've been gone for so long!" He smiled at your longing tone full of indignation before replying, his voice holding a teasing lilt to it,"I miss you too, baby, even though it's only been two weeks—" "Two weeks is a very, very long time for you to be away!" You couldn't help but cut him off, scoffing as he merely laughed in amusement at your annoyance, finding it cute how badly you wanted him to be by your side again. "Alright alright, just hold on a little longer, I'll be home before you know it. In the meantime, tell me about your day."
And so he patiently listened to you ramble on about the things that happened while he was gone, occasionally throwing in a snide comment here and there. You took a deep breath as you finished, asking him about how things were on his end. As you listened to your boyfriend talk, you couldn't help but let your mind wander. Soon you completely lost track of the things he was saying, focusing on how smooth and sexy his voice sounded. The low rasp in his tone only made more blood rush to your cheeks as all the pent up feelings you surpressed made their way to the surface.
You bit your lip, rubbing your thighs together as arousal pooled between them. Your mind became clouded as you imagined him whispering the filthiest things right next to your ear in that same tone. One of your hands kept holding the phone as the other made it's way down your body, teasing the waistband of your pants before slipping in. You shuddered as your fingers made contact with your soaked pussy. When did you get so turned on...?
Carefully, you circled your thumb around your clit as your middle and ring finger prodded your leaking hole. Your teeth dug into your lower lip even harder as you slowly pushed them past your folds, resisting the urge clamp your thighs around your hand. Your hand that was holding your phone trembled as you struggled to hold back your moans. The sound of his voice only made you wetter as you pumped your digits in and out of yourself at a steady pace.
You were so caught up in your pleasure, that you didn't even realize Scaramouche had stopped talking. It wasn't until you heard him inquiring about your state that you snapped out of your blissed out state,"[Name]? Are you still there?" "O-oh! I'm fine, just...keep talking, please..." Needless to say, your boyfriend was a bit baffled by your request, but he complied anyway. The more he spoke, the closer you felt to finally reaching orgasm for the first time in weeks. Your fingers' pace quickened as you found it increasingly difficult to stay quiet.
Even moving the phone away from your ear a bit did not stop him from hearing the heavy pants and muffled whimpers in the background, which caused some suspicions to raise. "Are you sure everything's alright, [Name]?" "I-I told you, I'm fine! Keep talking...I'm almost there..." He wasn't stupid and that sentence told him everything he needed to know. A smug smile graced his features as he put and two together.
"I see how it is..." "Wh—" "I can here your slutty moans clearly. I didn't realize that my pretty little girlfriend was such a desperate whore, that she'd resort to fucking herself on her fingers to the sound of my voice. You really missed me that much, huh?" "..I did..." You could barely answer between your moans. God, hearing talk like that to you was so hot. You could feel yourself clenching tightly around your fingers. You were getting close... "It's okay. I bet you've missed my cock too, you wish I was there to fill your needy pussy with my cum, hm?" He continues to praise and degrade you over the phone in that sultry tone you love so much.
"I'm sure you haven't been able to make yourself cum once since I left. It's so adorable to see how you need merely the sound of my voice to get yourself off. You'd literally be hopeless without me. Now keep thrusting those fingers into that pretty pussy, I want you to cum hard around them," And so you did, sweet cries sounding from the speaker of his phone as you quicken your pace, eyes rolling back into your head from the pleasure. The way your moans' pitch heightened told him that you were teetering on the edge of orgasm, so he continued to coax you,"Just like that, gush all over those dainty fingers for me."
You didn't need to be told twice. Your moan of ecstasy echoed through the dark room as your juices coated your fingers, soaking through your clothes and dripping onto the sheets below. You rode out your high until your breathing evened out slightly and you pulled your soaked digits out of your tight cunt, making you miss the feeling of being stuffed. Your pussy clenched around nothing as you heard his low laugh on the other end of the line,"Oh, how I wish I was there to see your face contort into that whorish expression I love so much. I bet you still want more, right? My slut wants me to be there, fucking her dumb on my cock?" You nod your head enthusiastically as you answer even though he isn't even there to see, but you're just that eager.
"Of course a slutty bitch like you wants my cock, if I was there with you, I'd make you get on your knees and make you worship it all night while making you finger yourself so that I can watch for my own amusement." The image makes your head spin and you swear that your inner thighs became even more messy with slick. "You're so wet now, aren't you? Want me to grab your hair and use your throat like my personal fucktoy?"
Your only responses are either longing whines or quiet 'yes's as he dirty talks to you over the phone, making promises of fucking you nice and hard when he gets back to make up for his absence which only makes you even more impatient for his return. Eventually, he has to go so you reluctantly hang up the phone before getting up to clean up. After that, you curl up on the bed, hugging the pillow he always sleeps on as you drift off to sleep.
#wanted to change up the scenario a lil bit#i had so much fun writing this tbh#smut#x reader smut#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#genshin impact x reader smut#✧・゚:* meena's memos! ✧・゚:*#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x reader smut#scaramouche smut
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hi! could i request a fic where frank is helping reader with urges to relapse in s3lf h@rm? or maybe they already relapsed? if this is not something you’re comfortable writing please feel free to just ignore this :) i’m struggling w/ this lately so it’s just self indulgent for me lmao and your writing is ADDICTIVE. you have such a talent and i hope you’re doing well!! x
my sweet sweet sweet nonnie. I am sending you all the love I possibly can. I am so sorry that you are struggling. I know what it's like to struggle with this, and I promise you it does get better. I know everyone says that and sometimes those words can sound so hollow, but I mean it from the bottom of my heart. it can't rain all the time darling 🖤
I hope you are doing well today, and I hope this brings you the comfort that you need. thank you for trusting me with this, and know that I love you and am so proud of you
just a quick psa to everyone on my frank taglist, because this is such a sensitive topic, i'm not tagging anyone in this one. if you are not comfortable with this topic or if it could be triggering for you, please sit this one out. you will not hurt my feelings, I promise.
warning: mentions of depression & self harm word count: 775
let it out.
Frank noticed everything. He was trained to look for subtle clues of threats everywhere, to anticipate them and quickly conjure a counterattack, or eliminate them before they even got a chance to strike. After that tragic day in Central Park, his sense of hypervigilance only became even more extreme.
Which is why he knew that things were getting bad for you again.
He could see it. That bright sparkle in your eyes that could put the stars to shame grew more and more dim until it was nothing more than achromatic ash. The heaviness weighing down on your chest that turned the subconscious act of breathing into a relentless struggle and made your movements lethargic was like an astral presence only his eyes could detect. He could hear it in your voice, the melodic warmth replaced by an echoing numbness. It seemed as though each day another of your vibrant petals withered and fell until you were rendered a bare and hollow stem.
It killed Frank to see you like this. He wanted so badly to help, he just didn’t know how. You wouldn’t talk to him about it, wouldn’t tell him what you needed. But he didn’t get upset with you, because he figured you might not even know what you needed. He was growing increasingly worried because nothing he was doing seemed to help at all. Fear was an emotion Frank very rarely experienced, but he was terrified that he’d lose you to your own cruel mind.
Things were bad right now, but it would pass. You’d fallen from the clouds of progression, backsliding until the cold hard impact of relapse bruised and rattled your bones, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t find your way back up again. It didn’t erase all the breakthroughs in your recovery. And if you couldn’t make it back up on your own, Frank would carry you himself.
Frank sat with you in the bath, enveloping you in the comfort of his body and the hot water, hoping it would soothe you. Taking care of yourself had become as hard as getting out of bed, but it was okay. He could help you with that. He’d washed your hair, taking his time to massage your scalp before gently rinsing the shampoo out completely. His large and calloused hands slowly and tenderly lathered your skin in the suds of your body wash, not missing a single inch of you.
Your face was as blank as a pure canvas, but there was raw sorrow in your eyes and agony building up along your lash line. Frank held onto you tightly, tracing your self-inflicted scars with the pad of his thumb, applying pressure with each stroke while he spoke quietly in your ear.
“I know it hurts, baby. But you ain’t gotta let it out that way. You can get the hurt out without hurtin’ yourself. You gotta feel it, sweetheart. I know you don’t wanna, I know it feels like it’s too much, but you can’t distract yourself with a different kinda pain. It ain’t gonna make this one go away.”
Frank knew you were listening. He could see the saltwater slipping down your cheeks, your expressionless face slowly morphing into a portrait of unrefined grief. He pressed his lips softly to each of your scars, holding you even tighter in a protective embrace.
“It’s gotta heal from the inside, baby. I know it’s hard, but you ain’t gotta do this alone. I’m right here, sweetheart. Just let go, I got you.”
He could tell that you were fighting it. That you were scared once you opened that door, a tidal wave of misery would devour you entirely and trap you beneath the current until you drowned, but he wasn’t going to let that happen. His deep voice was laced with sincerity and promise as he spoke into your ear again.
“I got you.”
The choked sob that caught in your throat broke his heart. The wail that tore from the depth of your soul was the worst sound he’d ever heard. Your shoulders shook from the impact of your overwhelming emotions, but when you shattered into a thousand jagged pieces, Frank was there to collect them all. He’d patiently help you put them all back together, no matter how long it took. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, gently rocking you as he soothingly ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a reverent kiss to the crown of your head.
“There ya go, that’s it. Let it all out, sweetheart. Take as long as ya need, I’m right here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Just let it all out.”
#frank castle#frank castle x you#frank castle x reader#frank castle request#frank castle fic#the punisher#the punisher request#the punisher fic
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Hii thereeee
can we get a part 2 of Vamp!Illumi?? cuz i really REALLY want to know what happens next🙏🙏🙏🙏
But of course, I'm always happy to answer requests from my lovely readers 😁!! Hope you enjoy <3

Pairing: Vampire!Illumi x Vampire!Reader
Summary: Illumi expects his newly turned mate to struggle with adjusting to life as an immortal only to find that she maybe more acquainted with immortality than he is.
Warnings: Mentions of bl00d/death, language
Viewer discretion is advised.
The moon shines brightly on the dimly lit manor, casting long shadows across it's empty halls. Underneath those silvery rays of moonlight, Illumi sits as he watches your unconscious body lie. He doesn't regret his choice to turn you as he watches you breathe your last, sleep for the last time. Even in death he finds you beautiful, alluring like the moonlight.
He leans further into the armchair placed not too far from your bedside and allows his mind to drift. He considers many things; how you'll adjust to the hunger, the heightened senses... and of course the bloodlust. At that particular thought, Illumi glances toward the corpse he's placed near the foot of the bed; the body's still war and he hopes you'll wake soon enough to enjoy that luxury.
Just as he prepares to let his mind slip away again, Illumi hears your heart stops, and your limbs begin to rustle beneath the covers. Seconds pass before your lashes slowly flutter open, eyes no longer bearing color. Instead, your eyes are black, the onyx contrasting starkly against the bright white of your sclerae. He watches as you pull yourself into a sitting position, eyebrows knitting in confusion. "Well, well. You're finally awake.", he whispers so as not to startle you too badly, "I was afraid you'd pull through.".
Illumi studies your expression as you head snaps to face him, briefly allowing him to catch a glimmer of fear in your eyes as you regain your premortem memories. "You.", you speak before cringing at the volume of your own voice, "You did this to me? Made me like you?". Your eyes try and search his as he nods in confirmation. He, too, tries to predict your reaction as you let the weight of your eternity settle in. Will you scream, curse him for cursing you? Will you try and hold onto a sliver of denial or try and kill him like his prior, unsuccessful playmates?
Instead, he watches you nod slowly back at him, eyes lighting with mischief and a twisted version of excitement. "And I suppose... that's for me?", you ask while pointing to the corpse at your feet. Illumi stands, taking languid strides toward you and grasps your chin between his fingers. He considers you for a long time, wonders if shock is leading you accept your fate so quickly, if the hunger is already eating away at your cognitive functions. Still, he nods again and pulls the body closer to you. He watches as you take the now lukewarm wrist into your hands, lips parting as they hover over the artery that had once been responsible for a steady supply of blood in its arm. He watches as your fangs protrude and tear at the skin, their fresh white now stained as you take your first drink.
It doesn't take long for you to drain the body of its supply, a low moan of satisfaction rumbling in your chest at the lingering taste of iron on your tongue when your fangs retract. Illumi raises his hand to your cheek, swiping away a trickle of blood from the corner of your lips only for you take his thumb into your mouth with a tilt of your head. "Satisfied, pretty girl?", he hums while fighting the urge to give in to the voices urging him to ruin you again, "There's plenty where that came from.". You release his thumb with a pop and a giggle, kissing his wrist and drawing him closer as adrenaline and lust fill you; now that you're like him, you can take him the way you'd struggled with before. "And if it's not blood that'll satisfy me?", you press as your hand slides up his chest to rest on the pillar of his neck, "Is there plenty of you to satiate this hunger you've caused?".
"More than enough.", he begins to answer, "But first, we'll have to get you adjusted-". Before he can finish his sentence, Illumi finds himself flat on his back and flush with the plush mattress, empty eyes blinking slowly as he feels you straddle him. "Well, that's all I needed to hear.", you purr as you pull him into a heated kiss. As his lips move against yours, he realizes what'd happened. For the first time in a long time, Illumi had been stunned; For the first time in his life, Illumi had been bested.
Illumi's cock stiffens at the thought, kisses becoming more fervent as the two of you began to fight for dominance. A low groan escapes him as you grind your hips against growing erection and pin him with the intent of keeping him there. You part for air neither of you need, eyes dark with tension and desire. "You've no idea what you've gotten yourself into.", you tease as you begin undoing the button of his shirt. A dark chuckle escapes him as he watches you undo the last button. In flash of silk and inky tresses, he's got you pinned beneath him, ass pressed against the bulge you'd been so arrogantly grinding on earlier. "And neither do you.", he purrs into your skin as he watches you struggle against him.
You may be right, but Illumi knows he'll have a damn good time finding out for sure.
#anime#fanfic#hunter x hunter#illumi zoldyck#hxh#hxh illumi#illumi x reader#lemon#vampire fiction#vampire au#anime vampire#halloween#halloween fic
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Elevator
(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)
SUMMARY | You and Wooyoung are stuck in the elevator with nothing to do but talk. But when you are awfully aware of how close he is, you can’t help but act on your urges.
PAIRING | Wooyoung/Reader
GENRE | non-idol!Wooyoung, smut with no plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), fingering, oral, vaginal sex, elevator sex
RATING | Mature
LENGTH | 2593 words
AUTHOR’S NOTE | On the shorter side but still smutty~
ATEEZ Main Masterlist
"Nononono. This can't be happening." You ran a hand through your hair, sliding down the walls of the elevator as it stopped moving. The lights were out and you could barely make out the figure of the man who stood next to you.
Of all days to get a power outage!
"Freaking out like that isn't going to make things better." The man muttered, his voice low and calm. "Breathe deep. Count to ten. Do something productive. Shit. I forgot what to do when things go bad."
He added, not sounding at all sincere.
You didn't need him to tell you to breathe; you'd been doing so since the lights went out in the first place. Your heart was pounding and the sweat on your palms made them slippery. The whole situation was just freaking bizarre and the adrenaline pumping through your body wasn't helping either.
You knew you had a bad feeling when you woke up this morning as you struggled to get out of bed. All your work clothes were in the laundry hamper, a lightbulb went out in your bathroom while you showered, you ran out of coffee and there was nothing left to eat for breakfast besides half an apple that had turned brown overnight.
On top of all that, the bathroom mirror showed that the faint lines around your eyes were more pronounced than usual.
And now you're stuck in the company's elevator with that very attractive employee in your department, one who is probably pissed off that he can't find anything to do while trapped here too.
"I knew I should have called in today." You muttered, burying your face in your hands. "This day couldn't possibly get any worse."
"How worse could it be?" The man asked, looking slightly annoyed but also amused by the sight of you bawling your eyes out on the elevator floor. He took a few steps forward before stopping again, taking another deep breath. "It's just a power outage after all. It happens every now and then."
"True enough." You agreed, raising your head to look up at him. "I just can't believe I'm stuck here with you."
"What's wrong with being stuck in an elevator with me?" He laughed.
"Not funny, Wooyoung." You frowned. "God, I can already hear all the other ladies in our department talking shit about me. Why do I always get myself into these situations? Like I haven't got enough problems as it is."
"I mean there's one way we can deter the shit talking." He smirked, gesturing at himself suggestively.
You groaned and shook your head. You really needed to get out of here soon or else your colleague was going to try to make a move on you and then you'll be really fucked. Not that you weren't interested in the idea, but you've heard some horror stories from friends who hooked up with co-workers and most of them ended badly.
You glanced around nervously, wondering how long the power outage would last and how long you'd be stuck in this elevator. You wondered if they'd think of any contingency plan if they realized how much time had passed since the lights went out. Maybe they'd sent maintenance to fix it? Hopefully someone will come soon.
"What are you thinking about, Y/N?" Wooyoung asked, sinking to the floor next to you. His legs crossed and his arms resting casually on his knees. "Having second thoughts about making a move on me?"
"I am not trying to make a move on you, no matter how attractive you may be." You mumbled. "Are you really sure you want to know what I'm thinking?"
"I have been told I have good hearing." He grinned, nudging you playfully with his shoulder. "Go ahead and tell me. Whatever it is, I won't judge you."
"Just being in this elevator is making my anxiety go up the wazoo." You sighed, sitting back against the wall.
"That's why I'm trying to distract you." He said with a shrug. "So, you really want to tell me what's bothering you?"
"I've just had such a bad day." You sighed. "I struggled to get out of bed this morning. All my work clothes were in the hamper, the light bulbs went out during my shower, I didn't have any breakfast except for a stupid apple that turned brown and I ran out of coffee this morning. Everything seemed to conspire against me this morning and..."
You took a deep breath and stared down at your feet, knowing that if you looked at him, you might let yourself get carried away. Wooyoung squeezed your hands gently.
"This kind of thing doesn't happen to me. I've always got my shit together, but today, everything seems to fall apart. One after the other." You muttered.
"Y/N, don't feel embarrassed about having bad days. Everyone has them." He murmured. "Sometimes life can be cruel and unjust, leaving us to struggle with burdens we never thought we could carry alone. It happens to the best of us."
"Maybe." You sighed. "But sometimes you wish that sometimes those bad days wouldn't happen at all."
"Well, we can't always get what we want, right?" He smiled gently. "But if we accept reality as it is, rather than as we wish it to be, perhaps we'll feel better and cope better with whatever life throws at us."
"Who are you and what have you done to the cocky Wooyoung I work with?" You let out an amused sigh. "Is it possible to see two sides of a person at once? Because I definitely saw a different side of you today. Thank you for being nice to me."
"Oh come on, it's nothing special." He waved his hand dismissively. "But I'd like a kiss as payment for comforting you. That's if...you want to."
You looked at him, eyes taking in his handsome face. His messy hair, slightly tousled from always running his hands through them. Those eyes that made you weak in the knees. The lips that were dangerously close to yours.
"Do you want to kiss me?" He asked quietly, tilting his head to the side.
There was a moment where neither of you moved, staring deeply into each other's eyes until finally Wooyoung leaned closer and pressed his lips against yours softly.
The soft kiss surprised you, making you pull away slightly. But Wooyoung didn't seem fazed by it and instead he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. You returned the kiss, brushing your lips against his before pressing your mouth more firmly against his.
Your lips parted slightly as he continued to press kisses to your lips, opening wider as his tongue slid along the seam of your mouth, exploring every corner until finally parting to allow him entrance. He tasted faintly of coffee, which made you wonder if he drank a cup before he came down here, but his taste was still pleasantly sweet.
"You know I could care less about what our coworkers would say about us." He muttered against your lips. "I only have eyes for you."
His words, along with his closeness and the scent of his cologne filled your senses and slowly your breathing became deeper, almost as though your lungs were expanding and pushing the air inside even further. The electricity flowing between you caused goosebumps to rise on your skin, spreading all over your body as his hands tightened their grip around your waist.
As much as you wanted to deny it, his lips and his touch were sending sparks of pleasure shooting across your skin and a warm sensation rushed to your core.
"Wooyoung..." You moaned, closing your eyes tightly. You felt his lips graze your jawline, before moving lower to nip at your earlobe. A shiver ran down your spine and your knees began to weaken, causing you to lean back against the wall behind you.
"Y/N..." He whispered, nibbling at your neck before he began to suckle your earlobe. "Do you want me to stop?"
The question caught you completely off guard and you opened your eyes to stare into his. In the dim lighting of the elevator, your pupils were drawn into his dark eyes, which seemed to have gone darker, taking on a darker shade.
"No." You breathed, leaning in to press your lips against his.
And Wooyoung seemed equally affected by your kiss. Before you could blink, his hands reached up and grabbed the sides of your face, pulling you towards him so that your lips met once more.
With every kiss, the intensity grew and soon you were lost in the sensations coursing through your body. When he pulled away slightly to give you a chance to catch your breath, your breath hitched and you licked your lips before reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.
The man in front of you was no longer the Wooyoung you usually worked with. Instead, he looked like a man who knows exactly what he wants and won't hesitate to take it.
"Don't stop." You breathed out, Wooyoung lifted you in his arms. His face darkened with desire and his breath came out in shallow pants as he gazed down at you with hunger in his eyes. "Please..."
He dropped to his knees, lifting your skirt and tugging your panties aside, revealing your pussy. It was slick with excitement and arousal and you felt your breath quicken. The sight of your cunt getting wetter was arousing and thrilling, as he looked up at you expectantly.
Before you could stop him, he slipped two fingers inside your pussy and began to stroke you, bringing out small whimpers of pleasure. He continued to slide his fingers in and out of you, fucking you with such skill and control.
Your legs began to shake uncontrollably, feeling weak from the pleasure he brought you and you sank back against the wall, needing something to hold onto. He didn't need to be told twice and quickly placed his hand under your knee, bringing it to rest on his shoulder, his face now buried between your thighs.
You let out a gasp when his tongue began to lap at your clit, teasing it and making it throb with pleasure. You closed your eyes and tilted your hips upwards, allowing him better access to your center. Your hips bucked erratically, driving his tongue faster, while his fingers kept pumping in and out of you.
He hummed and thrust his tongue harder against your clit, causing you to moan loudly. You started panting heavily, sucking in your bottom lip as he began to finger fuck you in earnest, fastening his pace. There was no mistaking it anymore. He was totally focused on pleasuring you, intent on giving you mind blowing orgasms.
The combination of the electric shocks from his fingers in conjunction with the vibrations from his tongue was too much to bear. Soon your hips began to buck violently, moaning and whimpering, driven mad by the pleasure that overwhelmed you.
"Fuck!"
It was unlike anything you ever experienced before. As you screamed his name, letting go of all control, all you could do was keep your orgasm coming, flooding his mouth with your juices until your body relaxed against the wall and he withdrew his tongue, licking the last traces of your cum from his lips.
"Holy fuck..." You gasped, catching your breath.
"Good?" He asked, kissing your inner thigh and working his way up to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his lips, but it only added to your arousal.
"So good but now..." Your knees went weak and you rested your forehead against his. "Now I need you to fuck me."
In an instant, he lifted you so that you could wrap your legs around his waist. The position left you open and vulnerable, as he settled himself between your legs and pushed forward, burying his cock deep inside you. You gasped as you took his length fully, enjoying the fullness of him. The feel of him filling you to capacity.
Wooyoung thrust in and out of you, setting a steady pace that made you cling onto him. With each thrust, his pelvis smacked against your clit, making you cry out.
The speed increased as you leaned back against the wall, lifting your ass higher to accommodate him. Wooyoung gripped your hips, moving them back and forth with precision, hitting just the right spot. He pressed kisses to your neck, then your ears before finding your lips again.
The combination of the feel of his hands gripping your hips and the feel of his hard cock pulsating inside you, sent ripples of pleasure shooting through your body, igniting your passion.
"Oh God...Wooyoung..." You groaned, arching your back as his tongue found its way to your earlobe.
"You feel so good. I could fuck you forever." He whispered, thrusting into you harder and harder, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. "Can I fuck you forever?"
"Yes please...Yes. Yes.." You moaned, pressing your body tighter against his.
His moans were growing louder as he thrust into you faster and faster, matching your pace. With every thrust, his fingers dug into your hips, holding you tight against him. Every time you pressed back against him, he let out a long groan, then immediately buried himself inside you, fucking you harder and harder.
"Y/N... Y/N... Come for me..." He groaned against your ear.
It took every ounce of willpower not to let yourself cum, but his moans and the feel of his hard cock deep inside you drove you crazy and you knew you couldn't hold back any longer.
The muscles in your stomach clenched and a tremor coursed through your body as another orgasm ripped through you, leaving you trembling. Wooyoung thrust harder, gritting his teeth and growling as he came with you. The sight of him losing control and calling out your name made your heart skip a beat and make your knees buckle.
But before you could fall to the floor, he caught you in his arms and held you tightly, kissing you tenderly. You were completely spent and all you wanted was to collapse into his arms.
"I got you." He whispered, wrapping his arms around you protectively.
As soon as Wooyoung placed you on your feet, the power kicked back on and the elevator started moving again. The both of you let out a laugh as you fixed your clothes, making sure that nothing had fallen out of place.
"Wooyoung?" You turned to look at him, smiling at him. "Thank you."
He grasped your hand, linking your fingers together as you walked towards the doors. "Anytime."
As the elevator door opened, he let go of your hand, placing his hands on the doors and holding them open for you. He watched as you exited the elevator, giving you one last smile before he followed you.
When you got to your desk and Wooyoung to his, you were both silent, content in the fact that you had each other and no one else knew what had happened between the two of you. And when you turned to look at your phone, you saw a text from him asking if you wanted to get dinner later.
Your heart skipped a beat as your face lit up with a wide smile. The night was still young and there was plenty of time for you and Wooyoung to enjoy it together.
#ateez#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez fanfics#ateez smut#ateez stories#ateez wooyoung#jung wooyoung#wooyoung#wooyoung smut#wooyoung x reader
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I'm back in your inbox again. Hello 👋
Been thinking about your ak jason todd and you've mentioned that his men know about her. They're intimidated by him and for good reason. But, hear me out, is Jason still working with scarecrow in your story?
Maybe Scarecrow is looking for the weakness in what seems like the arkham knights flawless armor. Maybe one of Jason's men isn't so loyal, or maybe scarecrow uses fear gas to get it out of them.
But I'm thinking how badly Jason would react if the reader was even in the slightest bit of danger or even vaugley threatened by scarecrow, even in passing. (Or slade, or even one of his men.) I think there'd be a bullet involved before the sentence is even over. Cause no matter how he treats her, she's still his person.
hello my friend! <3
in my little au, my fics 'say it back' and 'let go' happen just after the events of arkham knight, so jason is no longer working with scarecrow. i imagine that gotham is still a wreck, and jason hasn't yet transitioned to being red hood. so he's 'found' himself enough to have helped bruce in the end, but he's still harbors a crap ton of resentment and anger towards him and the others, and is still not above using lethal violence against those he thinks deserve it.
in my mind, this time period here is extremely tumultuous for him as he struggles to redefine and analyze what his goals and plans are now. like, if you're familiar with ATLA, i liken it to prince zuko getting physically ill after letting appa free. a sort of crisis of his self image. joker spent so much time convincing jason over and over how batman left him, abandoned him, telling him that bats was the enemy. and jason believed it, but when push came to shove, jason didn't exact his revenge. this turmoil inside of him, along with the unprocessed trauma of jokers multitude of atrocities, is what fuels a lot of his anger and unpredictability. his hired men are left over from his militia, he kept a handful of his most trusted guys on his payroll to help solidify his authority in gothams underworld. however, in my version of events, jason and reader were reunited back when he and scarecrow were still working together.
so, back to the original question. if earlier on, scarecrow had found out about reader, [and you're right, he had to trust some of his men to help keep her safe, so they could of had the info squeezed out of them. or maybe they were loose-lipped and talking shit, who knows.] no way crane could've resisted the temptation.
i think we can all agree that jason would use lethal force to protect reader. his own sins against her be damned, just because he's treated her like shit doesn't mean he will allow anyone else to threaten her or even touch her.
if it were dr. crane trying to use his fear gas on reader, jason would kill him on sight. no questions asked.
if it were someone less dangerous, like one of his militia getting too comfortable with reader, i see a possibility of him taking his time. we saw in 'let go' that he has some dark urges inside of him to hurt others the way he's been hurt. don't know if he'd actually have it in him to brutally torture someone, but if reader was injured, assaulted, or seriously harmed, who knows.
an important thing, though, is that i think jason would feel guilty after. not for killing them, not if they hurt his person. he'll be able to live with that just fine. but anything that prolongs their suffering i think he would feel remorse for, later on, when he's had more time to heal. more than anything, it will scare him to look back on it and know he's capable of such evil.
there would be a rare moment of vulnerability between jason and reader after he's eliminated the threat and can check and make sure readers okay.
if reader were suffering from fear gas, he would take her somewhere private and hold her close, not letting go until the toxin is out of her system, even if it's hours. most likely blaming himself the whole time and triggering him to spiral further down his path of self-hatred.
in the case of his militia men, they would be knocked out, and jason would get reader to safety asap. if reader has severe injuries, he may chance setting foot in a hospital, even though it reminds him of arkham. if the injuries are less severe, he would probably lock her up somewhere safe while he 'takes care' of the perpetrator, later returning to reader with bloody hands and eyes full of fear.
no matter the outcome, poor jay would be extra protective over reader for a while, second guessing who he trusts to leave her with and who is vetted enough to guard his safehouse when she's inside.
gahhhhh you're making me want to replay the games to brush up on the lore. its so tragic, jasons story. my heart hurts for him.
i would apologize for such a long-winded, unorganized response to a simple question, but i know you're just as obsessed as i am 😈
xoxo sid
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DAY 12: In For It — glove kink w/ semi-dom!spencer reid


KINKTOBER 2023: masterlist
summary: When an unexpected coworker causes you to develop a kink for gloves, you find yourself needing to take care of your dying urge as soon as possible. What you don't know, is that the same coworker finding you in the act will prove to be more pleasurable than you realize.
pairing: semi-dom!spencer reid x sub!fem!reader
warnings/mentions: mentions of blood/crime scene, implied age gap, use of y/n and sweet girl, obv glove kink and mention of latex, no lube is used which is prob unrealistic but ignore it, fingering, choking, vaginal sex, breeding kink, unprotected piv sex (no, no, and no), fondling and ass grabbing, lmk if i missed anything!
wc: 3.2k
a/n: sooo this was supposed to be semi-dom spencer but the sub in me failed miserably :,) and yes this is day 12 on day 15 shush i'm inconsistent
tags: @nalycandy @prettyboydrspencerreid @mega-kittyglitter-1
You were kneeling near the floor of the crime scene that you were at, with Spencer and Derek above you, discussing the scene around you.
You were on a case in a small town in Vermont regarding an unsub who was leaving very bloody scenes behind him. Needless to say, you and the team were getting your hands dirty.
Well, not literally.
Your gloved hand was pointing at what looked like scratch marks on the floor of the living room you were in, which you assumed to be signs of a struggle. You voiced this to the two men.
Derek, who was hovering over you, nodded his head in agreement with your idea. "Yeah, looks like it. This victim must've really given the unsub a hard time, then."
"Yeah, and he wasn't happy about that," you said pretty obviously, because it didn't really take a profiler to see that. "Hey, Spence, what do you...
...Think."
You cut yourself off as you looked up at your other coworker, Spencer Reid, who was pulling the same gloves you had on onto his own veiny hands. It took all of a few seconds for him to turn to you, raising an eyebrow at you.
Spencer was older than you, and you had always found him attractive. Who couldn't, really? Tall, handsome, brunette FBI profiler, and a nice personality to add to it.
He was flawless.
But you had never crossed that humongous line between being friends and being more. While it was nice to think about, you didn't think he could see you in that way, and you preferred to remain friends anyway for the sake of your relationship.
Which is what made the blood that rushed to your cheeks, and the feeling that ran down to your cunt, all the more confusing.
"What were you saying, Y/N?" asked Spencer as he tilted his head, looking down at you.
It didn't help that from where you were looking, you were almost at eye level with his belt.
Fuck.
"Oh, um, I was just wondering what you...Think? A- About the case? I mean, like, do you think there was a struggle?" you could barely stutter out, shaking your head at yourself. Spencer kneeled down next to you, examining the same marks you'd been looking at with his hands.
You watched as his gloves hands traced circles over the hard wood floor, then moved to nearby blood splotches on the ground.
You had never wanted so badly to be an inanimate object.
Spencer gave you a brief synopsis of what he believed. From what you could gather, he agreed with you and Derek, but you were struggling to listen to him as your eyes remained where they were.
You weren't sure how or when this newfound thing for gloves had developed, but it was driving you crazy. You had to clear your throat to snap yourself back into reality, getting up from the ground.
"We should get back to the station. I want to see if they got anything out of the fingerprint we found," said Derek, to which Spencer nodded in agreement.
When you didn't answer, eyes too fixated on Spencer's hands as the gloves came off of them, the genius spoke up. "Hey, Y/N, are you okay?" he asked in a worried voice.
The sound of your name on his lips tugged you back down to earth, and you looked up. "Huh? Wha—Yeah, I'm good. Let's go," you said nervously.
Spencer, still concerned, put a hand on the small of your back as you all walked out of the house you were in. Spencer had always been very protective of you, and you weren't quite sure why, but you liked to assume that it was because he was older than you, and felt the need to do so.
What you did know, though, was that it was not helping at all.
—
You all but leaped out of the car when the three of you got back to the police station, muttering some nonsense about paperwork and overtime as an excuse to Spencer and Derek.
When you finally got to the bathroom that you'd been longing to go to since earlier, you closed the door quickly behind you and gave a long, slow sigh.
Because the town you were in was so small, the station wasn't really the most up to date. The bathroom was tiny, leaving little to no space to walk around. Plus, it was unisex, and there was only one of them. It was probably hell on earth for the police officers who worked here on a daily basis.
But that was the least of your worries.
You leaned your hands on the sink of the bathroom and tried to slow yourself down, trying so hard to ignore the growing wetness between your legs as you closed your eyes.
And all for what? Spencer Reid's gloves? The one you'd seen him touch blood with so many times? The one you’d seen him touch blood with today?
Really?
But, God, you just couldn't deny it.
A flushed, rosy face looked back at you in the mirror, with you looking as if you had just seen a ghost. Your chest was heaving up and down at a rapid pace, your hair messy over your forehead.
There was only so much of this you could take.
It was a dumb idea. A terrible, terrible idea. But you figured, if you worked this sudden want for your coworker out now, you wouldn't have to stare it in the face ever again.
You shook your head for what you were about to do, but took a seat on the low counter, your back pressing onto the mirror behind you. Slowly, you undid your own belt, then yanked your work slacks down and out of the way.
You had to take a few seconds to really think about this before you went through with it. Could you really do this in a police station, the one coworker you'd always seen as no more than a friend on your mind?
Fuck.
Yeah, you could.
You closed your eyes and followed through, moving your hand down to your clit and rubbing yourself in slow circles at first. You began to think about Spencer and the way his blue gloves had fit so nicely on his hands earlier. God, it felt ridiculous just thinking about it.
But it was true.
A knock sounded on the door when you were just about to stick a finger inside of yourself, but the sound was so muffled, you couldn't quite process that you were being called.
"Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?"
You couldn't hear a thing over the sound of your own whines, way too far gone now to think about much else.
"I'm coming in there."
...
Now, you heard it.
You were too late in jolting your hand away from your body before Spencer's tall figure stood in the doorway, a concerned look over his face, that soon turned to one of surprise.
The view he was met with was one of your hand quickly moving away from your cunt, your undone belt and open slacks enough for anyone, let alone a genius, to figure out what the hell you'd just been doing.
While he hadn't gotten you in the act, the scene that was laid out in front of him was very much enough.
The door was already closed for the most part when Spencer walked in, and he shut it all the way so no one could see the two of you. His cheeks were red as his eyes roamed over your body, the man at a clear loss for words.
"Spencer, I—" you said with a face as hot as his, your eyes wide with fear. "I'm sorry—I was just—It's not what it looks like," you said dumbly, shaking your head at yourself.
"A- Are you sure, Y/N? Because, from where I am, what you were just doing is quite obvious," Spencer told you, crossing his arms as he did, like he was reprimanding a little kid. You sighed.
"I just needed to—Work it out before we got started with the case again. I'm sorry. I- I know it's unprofessional, and—" you began.
But he cut you off.
"It's fine, Y/N. You have needs," Spencer shrugged, like this was something people saw on a daily basis. "I was just a little, um—Surprised."
You let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding and nodded, the heat never leaving your face. Spencer took a step closer to you, looking at you curiously.
"I have to ask, though," Spencer chuckled, looking you up and down. You nearly missed it when he did, too bewildered by the fact that he could laugh at what was happening. "Why the sudden urge?"
You tilted your head, looking away from him and then back again, unsure of what to say. When you didn't answer, Spencer went on.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I'm just curious," Spencer said.
You took a very long pause before opening your mouth to speak again, cursing yourself for the words that were about to leave it. "Uh, well—I just—It's kind of dumb, and it's going to sound really weird, b- but, um," you were stuttering as you played with your hair, sighing. "Yourgloves."
Your words came out so jumbled that Spencer raised an eyebrow at you, giving you a confused look. You weren't sure if he hadn't heard you, or if he had, and he was just weirded out. "What did you say?" Spencer asked.
Turns out, it was the former.
"Y- Your gloves," you told him more clearly, looking away from him. "I don't know. I saw you with them earlier at the crime scene, and—Well, I know we're just friends and stuff but—God, I just don't know," you said in annoyance of yourself. Even you had no idea where this sudden need was really coming from.
"I don't know," you said again. "I just like the way they look on your hands, okay?"
Spencer took a second to think and consider your words. Then, instead of walking out of the room, or giving you a look, or calling you a mean name, Spencer just laughed again. He laughed. At you.
He seriously found this funny?
Spencer reached into the pocket of his work slacks, and pulled out the very thing that had caused you to be so worked up in the first place. The pair of blue gloves that he now had in his hand couldn't be the same pair he had used earlier, because these ones weren't covered in blood.
"These, Y/N? This is what's got you so worked up?" Spencer asked in a nearly teasing voice, smirking at you as he walked even closer to you. You furrowed your brow.
"Maybe," you said, a bratty tone behind your voice. You refused to look at him, turning your face away from him. But out of the corner of your eye, you could see Spencer putting the gloves onto his hands.
You knew you were in for it now.
Spencer tilted your chin up to meet his eyes, bottom lip in his teeth as his eyes moved down to your lips. "Most kinks are easy to develop, in case you didn't know. They usually develop when a specific stimulus is paired with sexual notions or behavior."
"Meaning, for one, that you don't need to be so shy about this. And, two, I don't have to understand it fully to please you. So," he said in a low voice, leaning in, so that your faces were mere inches away from each other. "Tell me where you want my hands, Y/N."
You were way too dumbfounded to process all of what he was saying to you. Your breath was heavy, and before you even knew it, you moved one of his gloved hands to your neck, and the other to the hem of your slacks.
Spencer nodded, and, without even a word more, pressed his lips to yours. Before touching you, he grabbed you by the ass and pulled him in closer to you, so that he was standing in the middle of your legs.
Your tongues were all over each other in your kiss as Spencer began squeezing your neck, clearly attempting to gauge how hard you wanted him to go. His gentle hold was cute: But you needed more.
You pulled away from him for just a second to whisper, "Harder. Please," in the neediest voice you had ever put on. Spencer chuckled at you again, obliging as soon as you had asked, and roughened his hold on your neck.
Now, you were happy.
If it weren't for the fact that you were already soaking wet, the latex of the glove may not have felt good, or even let Spencer's finger slip past your throbbing cunt at all. But you were happily surprised to find that his finger went inside of you with ease, causing you to moan out.
"Shhh, sweet girl, none of that," said Spencer in a teasing tone of voice, moving his hand from your neck to cover your mouth. "We wouldn't want anyone else to hear us, would we?" he asked.
You shook your head, cheeks flushed with heat, and that was enough for Spencer. His gloved hand closed around your neck again while he pumped his finger in and out of you at a quick pace.
While having a glove kink was more like a fantasy before all of this, you couldn't believe how good it really made you feel. The rough latex on your cunt provided you with a sort of friction that you had never been able to get when touching yourself in the past, and it was beyond what you were looking for.
"Is this what you wanted?" Spencer asked in a caring voice, bringing his hand to cup your cheek as he fingered you all at once. "Or is there something else I can do for you?"
"A- Ah, Spencer," you moaned out, feeling dizzy with bliss as you answered him. "Please, I just—I think I'm going to need a little more than your fingers," you whined.
Spencer didn't waste a second more and picked you up, holding you gently in his arms. You wrapped your legs around his torso for a beat, and quickly missed the feeling as soon as he put you down to your feet.
Spencer softly pushed your head down and bent you over the bathroom counter, so that you were looking directly at yourself in the mirror. You could hear the sound of Spencer's belt unbuckling from behind, and watched through the mirror as he allowed it to clatter to the ground.
"Spencer—" you said in surprise, mostly of how willing he seemed to do all of this for you.
Maybe you hadn't been the only one keeping your feelings pent up after all.
"What is it, Y/N?" Spencer asked. You were about to answer, when he then took his throbbing cock out from his boxers, giving you a front row view of how hard he was. You shook your head, mumbling to him to forget it.
Spencer pumped himself up and down a few times, and the view was goddamn mesmerizing as he groaned behind you, releasing drops of pre-cum onto your ass. You watched in anticipation, eyes looking at him with a hungry desire to feel him inside of you.
Spencer guided his tip to your aching cunt, then slowly pushed himself inside of you. Already knowing what your response to this would be, he covered your mouth, quickly stopping a moan from leaving your lips.
His other hand gripped your ass again as he moved into you at a pace that was somehow soft and rough at the same time. And then, when he was sure you would keep yourself quiet, he moved his hand back to your throat again.
"Does that feel good, sweet girl?" Spencer cooed, brushing your hair out of your face. You nodded in a little bit of embarrassment at the manner in which this scenario was unfolding.
"Y- Yes. You feel so good, Spencer. You're...So big," you admitted to him, shutting your eyes closed. Spencer's smirking reflection looked back at yours.
"I'm glad you think so," Spencer chuckled, hardening his grip on your bottom as he moved into you, now going at a slower pace. You whimpered at the sudden change of speed, causing Spencer to say, "What, Y/N? What is it?"
"I...Can you go faster? Please?" you croaked.
Spencer pressed a few kisses to the back of your neck and nodded, smirking. "As you wish," he obliged, quickening his pace once more.
"Look at you, sweet girl. All fucked out for me," Spencer whispered, moving you by your hair, so you could gaze at yourself in the mirror. "I'm going to have your legs shaking by the time I'm done with you," he rasped.
Like that wasn't already true.
Spencer pulled you towards him so that your back was flush against his front, and he took each of your tits into his gloved hands as he continued to fuck you. His thumbs ran circles over your hardened nipples as he fondled you, causing a series of broken, whiny moans to leave your lips.
At this point, neither of you gave much of a damn about who heard you.
Spencer could feel your cunt tensing around him, and he knew then and there that you were close. One of his hands roamed down your body, over your chest and stomach, before finding your aching clit and rubbing it the same way he had your nipples.
Once again, that feeling of the latex drove you wild. You felt your climax bubbling up inside of you, threatening to spill over at any given second. "Spencer, please, fuck, I'm so close, I'm so close," you muttered over and over again, biting down on your lip.
"I know, sweet girl, I know," Spencer cooed, pressing rough kisses to your neck. "Are you going to let me fill you up, Y/N?" Spencer asked, looking into your eyes now.
How could you do anything but nod?
"Y- Yes, Spencer. Please do. I want to feel all of you," you begged him.
"You will," he assured you, running his fingers through your hair. "I'm going to fill you up so good," he said. He then looked at you through the mirror, so he could watch you come undone. He finally moaned, "Come on, sweet girl. Come for me."
You didn't need much more than that.
You let yourself go, forced to look at Spencer through the mirror as he held your face in place. Your names left each other's mouths, each in a moan, causing Spencer to cover your mouth as you cried out in pleasure.
Spencer pressed butterfly kisses to your neck as you came down from your high, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you came back down to earth. Holding you like you were the most fragile thing on the earth, he then kissed you on the mouth, soft and slowly so.
Spencer chuckled, and you turned your head to look at him, a small smile on your lips. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing," the genius laughed, nuzzling his nose with yours. "Just thinking..."
"...Maybe I should wear those gloves more often."
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#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid fic#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds fic#spencer reid imagine#kinktober#kinktober 2023
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