#like in his head he just has the urge to pick them up by the scruff of their neck and cary them around
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how you get the girl (teaser)
summary: when you lose a bet against your brother and he forces you to go on a blind date, the last thing you expect is to find your ex-boyfriend at your doorstep, with a bouquet in his hand and a confession on his lips.
pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader genres: romance, angst, smut, exes to lovers!au, brother’s best friend!au (ft. brother!joshua hong) teaser word count: 0.6k
↳ warnings: profanity (full warnings tba)
“Hi,” he says. “Thanks for the shower.”
“No problem.” You swallow the hitch in your voice, gripping the chopsticks in your hand tightly. “I hope the water was warm.”
“It was.” Jeonghan hesitates for a moment, eyes flickering all across your kitchen before finally meeting your gaze. “Do you need any help?”
“Oh, uh, no. I’m just making ramen. Couldn’t find anything else, sorry.”
You hate the way your throat dries and your mouth clams up. You rest your hip on the counter, keeping your body angled sideways so you can keep one eye on the stove without appearing rude. All these weeks, and Jeonghan still manages to render you speechless. It’s almost ridiculous.
He jerks, a movement bordering a shrug and a grimace. It’s rare to see Jeonghan so awkward, rarer still to see him floundering for words. If there’s one thing Jeonghan is, it’s a smooth talker. He can charm his way into anything, putting that honey-rich timbre and smooth baritone of his voice to good use.
“I hope you don’t mind, but,” he finally says, “I put my jacket to dry by the washing machine. The rest of my stuff is in the hamper.”
“Oh. Okay.” You nod. Of course he remembers the exact layout of your apartment—he had been there when you went house-hunting, after all—but it still serves as a sharp reminder to what you used to have and everything you couldn’t salvage. You give the ramen a small stir.
“We didn’t get much of a chance to talk.” Jeonghan sounds casual, but you know better than anyone it’s just feigned. “Because of the rain, and all.”
“...Right.” You turn off the stove and carefully tip the ramen into two bowls.
“How have you been?”
You force out a chuckle. “That’s redundant, Jeonghan.”
“Just being polite.” He is still calm, and it irritates you.
“Why did you want to meet me?”
Jeonghan lets his head drop, his long bangs falling onto his forehead. He’s let his hair grow out; it almost brushes against his shoulders. He still has the same lean, lithe figure he’s always had, though. It’s slightly disconcerting—familiar yet foreign at the same time.
He moves to lean on the counter opposite you, crossing his arms over his chest. “I can’t meet up with an old friend?”
“We both know your only friend is Joshua.”
“Ouch.” The laugh he barks out is dry. “I have lots of new friends now.”
Your fingers curl into your palm, nails digging into your skin. A tense silence fills the space between you both. Mechanically, you hand him a bowl of ramen and a pair of chopsticks. He takes them wordlessly, nodding his thanks.
You pick up your own bowl and walk towards your small dining table. You don’t gesture for Jeonghan to follow—you know he will, anyway, just like how he walked into your life with no warning. Your first bite of ramen nearly burns your tongue. You bite back a yelp.
“Careful, it’s hot,” Jeonghan warns, a hint of a smile on his lips. You glare at him and it vanishes immediately. “Sorry. But I’m serious—how have you been? We haven’t spoken in a while.”
“I wonder why that is.”
“Still the same, I see,” he says, chewing around a mouthful. “I’ve been good too, thanks for asking.”
“You’re an asshole, Jeonghan.” Your grip on the chopsticks falters. They clatter onto the table, but neither of you pay any mind to it.
Jeonghan rubs some broth off the corner of his mouth, finally averting his gaze to his bowl of ramen instead of looking at you. You sigh, fighting the urge to crawl back into your room and pretend this isn’t happening.
↳ a/n: thanks for reading! please send an ask/reply if you would like to be added to the tag list :)
#jeonghan x reader#seventeen x reader#jeonghan fluff#seventeen fluff#jeonghan angst#seventeen angst#jeonghan imagines#seventeen imagines#jeonghan x you#seventeen x you#jeonghan fanfic#seventeen fanfic#svt x reader#svt fluff#svt angst#svt imagines#svt x you#svt fanfic#seventeen#svt#jeonghan#yoon jeonghan#jeonghan.#jeonghan smut#seventeen smut#svt smut
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🔄 svt x reverse tropes.
✩ reversal of popular tropes, most of which are based on this post! established relationships, breakups, angst [if you squint], crack -ish, fluff, cussing. drabbles under the cut.
🔄 uno reverse card .ᐟ
seungcheol & mafia boss kidnaps you accidentally kidnapping the mafia boss.
seungcheol isn't really sure how he ended up in this situation. the cool metal of the chains feel foreign on his ankles, and he briefly considers trying to break through them himself. what kind of 'kidnapper' lost the key to their cuffs? he can only watch, exasperated, as you google how to pick a lock with a hairpin. you're sweating buckets. he finds it just a teensy bit amusing. "don't worry. i'll spare your life," he drawls as he leans back to watch you fret. "but only if you get me out in fifteen minutes. otherwise… well. that's debatable."
jeonghan & fake relationship breakup.
what was supposed to be an april fool's prank has ended the relationship that jeonghan never thought he'd be without. that isn't to say he hated you. god, no. if anything, he's convinced he'll love you to his grave. it's just— a different kind of love, he concedes, as the two of you hold hands underneath the table. mingyu jeers something about the breakup being a joke, and jeonghan shakes his head. "it's as real as they come," he announces. the two of you glance at each other when nobody's looking. it'll be your little secret, it seems.
joshua & marriage divorce of convenience.
it's a question of assets and inheritance, the whole reason why you and joshua have to 'divorce' in the first place. he's been incredibly vocal about his distaste— the thought of being away for you for ever a moment is ludicrous— but he'll grin and bear it, if it means the two of you can live a cushy life when you retire. still, he frowns as you sign off on the papers. he focuses on the promise of a second wedding. "i want a hundred guests." he wraps his arms around you from behind. "and a chocolate fondue. please."
junhui & there's only one bed there's too many beds.
how the hell did jun miss the fact that the listing said 7 beds, not 1? he'd tried so hard to orchestrate a little forced proximity moment with you, only to fail spectacularly. he lays on the top bunk of the double deck, staring at the ceiling, as he contemplates his life choices. you're still giggling in the bunk below him. "oh, shut up," he grumbles, though there's a hint of a fond grin on his face. maybe tomorrow night, he thinks, he'll recommend a horror movie. that way, you might ignore all the other beds and crawl into his.
soonyoung & miscommunication too much communication.
it's a little too hard to keep up with the string of confessions bursting out of soonyoung. the whiplash is dizzying, how he's going from talking about the way he felt when he first saw you, the crush that's been festering for weeks, the dream he had of you last night— and, oh, now he's on his knees. "soonyoung, please get up," you urge, horrified, but he stays on the ground. "isn't honesty the best policy?" he asks, eyes blown wide with overwhelming sincerity as he looks up at you. "c'mon, give me a shot! please, please, please!"
wonwoo & 'academic' rivals (except you're both teachers).
there's no way that you're the top class of the month. wonwoo has half a mind to march up to the principal's office and demand a recount. his eyes narrow in response to your smug smile— one that he'll wipe off your face if his life depends on it. "don't get cocky," he warns you below his breath. in his mind, he's already envisioning how he and his students can knock you off the leader board. this was not going to stand. "i'll get you next time," he says, and it sounds more like a threat than a challenge.
jihoon & fake dating everyone is convinced we're not dating.
this will definitely prove it, jihoon thinks to himself as he leans in to kiss you in lieu of a greeting. you let out a surprised hum against his lips but you melt right against him, your hand resting over his chest. for a moment, a stunned sort of silence befalls the room. jihoon pulls away with a dazed, almost smug sort of grin, only for his smile to falter when soonyoung loudly says, "wow. you guys are, like, dedicated to this bit, huh?" jihoon is convinced he's going to throw himself out of a window if this keeps happening.
seokmin & mean guy who's only nice to you nice guy who's only mean to you.
seokmin doesn't know how to explain it, but you bring out the worst in him. everything about your existence seems to just vex him, from your pretty smile to your bright laugh. he's generous in doling out grins and pulling out the charm for everyone else; when you're around, though, it takes a tremendous amount of effort to be normal. you're feet away from him, interacting with someone else, and it's grinds on his nerves. in the corner of his eye, he sees you giggle; something crawls underneath his skin. so annoying, he thinks. laughing with someone that isn't me.
mingyu & cuddling for warmth too warm to cuddle.
it's been four days, twelve hours, and twenty-six minutes since mingyu last cuddled with you. the two of you are sweating right into your sheets, the infertile summer heat made doubly unbearable with the fact the air conditioner is busted. "can't we just cuddle for a little bit?" mingyu begs, his sleeveless shirt clinging to his skin with every small move. he shifts on the bed to glance at you, a pout firmly set on his handsome face. "i'll run us both an ice bath afterwards, i swear. but i'll die if i don't get to hold you tonight, love."
minghao & fake amnesia.
"except for the amnesia?!" "i know! i know!" minghao screeches, uncharacteristically panicked as he meets junhui's disbelieving gaze. "i— i panicked okay?! it's not my best work!" minghao hadn't known what to say, really. it wasn't everyday that you ran into the one who got away while grocery shopping. he'll be damned if he's dragged right back down under, so he had let out a little white lie of having memory loss. "god," minghao groans, running a hand over his face in frustration. "i need to start googling what webmd has to say about amnesia…"
seungkwan & dating your best friend's enemy's sibling.
this is seungkwan's favorite place in the world: the railing of your balcony, waiting for you to look his way. it might be easier to date if your brother didn't hate his guts, but seungkwan's more than willing to make a couple of concessions. you've made a romantic out of him, it seems, because now he can only think of shakespeare whenever you come to sneak him into you room. the sight of you puts an easy, almost giddy grin on his face. "my lady," he coos, quoting romeo and juliet because he knows it will make you laugh. "my love."
vernon & love hate at first sight.
vernon has never been a believer in reincarnation. that is, until he met you. he's convinced the two of you have met in some past life— how else to explain the immediate hatred he has for you, the moment he laid his eyes on you? it's an undeniable, searing kind of loathing, almost laughable in its intensity. no person should be allowed to feel this passionately about someone. and yet here he is, his typically cool demeanor cracking like ice in the face of your fire. you have him melting for you, in more ways than one.
chan & true love's hate's kiss.
"let's make this quick," chan snipes, even though he's in no position to be making demands when he's the one calling in a favor. you shoot him a withering glare but you comply all the same, because he promised he'd owe you absolutely anything after this. a stupid true hate's kiss. chan squeezes his eyes shut, preparing for the worst smooch in the world— only to be jolted by the soft press of your mouth against his. you taste… sweet. huh. when you pull back, your part of the deal fulfilled, chan instinctively leans forward, chasing your lips.
#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt smau#seventeen smau#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#svt angst#seventeen angst#[ listen. hear me out. LOL ]#[ jun is the first one that occurred to me like i needed to write that with a burning passion ]#[ if some are ooc look away ]#[ tried to rlly test myself with STRICT drabbles >100w so !! ]#[ but i'm Shaking. some of these .i swear.... ]#── ᵎᵎ ✦ mine
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Yandere boys and their favourite positions
Yandere! Soldier likes to be intimate with you, intertwining his fingers with yours and whispering in your ear just how much he loves you. He doesn't like looking in your eyes - your tears remind him that you don't want this and yet he's helpless to stop himself. He's always on top, cosying up between your thighs and burying his face in your neck. He keeps you gagged. It's easier to block out your crying that way.
Yandere! Boyfriend likes to be as close to you as possible. He likes to take you from behind, his arm wrapped around your throat and his chest pressing you into the mattress. Skin against skin from your neck to the tips of your toes. He gets drunk on you so easily, moaning in your ear about how much he loves you, how he'll never let you leave him, how you're the best fuck he's ever had. And despite his hulking size, he whines like a puppy when you come around him. He loves you loves you loves you and he loves being inside you.
Yandere! Cowboy can never get rid of his rough side, it's been built into him after years of rough labour and bad days and bosses with tight fists and tighter purse strings. He'll always be wild with you, pulling your hair, digging his nails into your thighs, biting down on your neck. He cares for his pleasure first and foremost and it doesn't matter if he hurts you to get it. He'll take you any way he can but he loves it when you ride him. He'll put his hat on your head and call you his pretty lil' cowgirl even as he ruts his cock into you until your tits are bouncing.
Yandere! Desert Bandit has to fight his urge to fuck you raw and rotten everytime he takes you. It's a conscious effort to be gentle, to be mindful of his strength. He fails a lot at first. He has years of pent up lust to get through afterall. But someday, he'll manage to make love to you without leaving bruises. He likes to have you under him, with your legs around his waist and his clenched fists on either side of your head.
Yandere! State Trooper is a rotten, corrupt bastard and he knows it. He gets off on the power he has over you - he'll make you crawl to him on your hands and knees, spank your ass red raw and force you to thank him through your tears. He loves taking you bent over - on the furniture, on the hood of his cruiser, with your hands and tits pressed against the shower door... It's not all bad though. You haven't gotten a traffic ticket in ages.
Yandere! Incubus always comes at night. He can't let you see his face, even if you have your suspicions. He's limited by the paralysis he puts you under and usually takes you as he finds you, hands roaming and scratching wherever they can. He dreams of fucking you on the holy altar, your arms around his neck and your tits squished against his chest. He wants to pull the rosary you wear until it chokes you, your piety turned into a goddamn leash. He loves watching you at mass, kneeling under the crucifix and praying to be cleansed. He especially loves you at confession, your voice soft in the half dark and the smell of you all around him.
Yandere! Gangster is not going to fuck you anytime soon. He only has his fists and his fantasies, the poor bastard.
Yandere! Survivor likes you on your belly, your ass angled up to face him. He'll grab your hands and push them into the mattress, his mouth nipping at your shoulders, the nape of your neck, anywhere he can reach. It feels like a declaration of trust when you let him put you in such a vulnerable position. The only drawback is he can't see your face when you come but getting to grab and knead your ass cheeks is a fine consolation.
Yandere! Academic Rival is too focused on school to think about much else. If he was forced to pick, he'll say he wants you up against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist. He loves that you need to rely on him to stay balanced, that you bury your head into his neck and whine at his thrusts. Besides that, he desperately wants you on your knees but your pride ensures that never happens unless he gets down and begs first.
#meta#all the boys#basically a masterlist#yandere#yandere x reader#reader insert#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#x reader#yandere drabbles#yandere lemons#yandere oc#yander ocs
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Veneration
Marcus Acacius x f!reader
Rating: E
a/n: another piece from Ao3 — enjoy! ❤️
—
“Where is she?”
Marcus stalks into his chambers, his white cape billowing behind him, a guard following in his wake.
“I asked for her, sir. I’m not sure where she is. She –”
“Just find her,” he growls, frustration etched on his face.
The guard makes a hasty apology, slipping from the room. “Yes, sir. Right away.”
Candles fill the space, pools of shadows gathered around the edges. The fabric on the bed is rich and decadent, every piece of decoration in the room dripping with luxury.
It’s jarring, after so many months living in a battle tent.
A table filled with food in abundance, he bypasses everything on it for the jar of heady wine. Pouring himself a cup, he drinks deeply.
He thumbs at the slice on his neck, smearing blood on the tips of his fingers. His hands are used to being drenched in blood, crusted with it, the firm hold of a sword nearly molded to the creases of his palm.
It took everything he had not to raise it to the fucking pup who cut him. The one who is so careless and callous, he threatens to burn down everything Marcus has worked for.
All of his protection, wasted. His entire career, played with for sport.
Where is she?
He rips the pin off his tunic, tossing it to the side — he should be more careful with it, but he’s in no mood to be careful with anything. The laurel comes next; the stupid fucking pageantry. He’s a general, a man made of sweat and blood and his fingers tear at the clasps of his armor, but he quickly gives up, pouring another cup of wine. Beautiful and untarnished, the armor is all for show, just like the adornments they covered him with.
It felt good to ride through the city and wave to the people he has been campaigning for months, but he could do without the show of it all. He recognizes the need for celebration, and he’ll gladly give it to them, but he wishes he could do it in his actual armor. The one he defends their city in. The one nicked with a thousand dents from a thousand swords. The leather that fits to his body like a second skin, and he wished for it during the ceremony more than ever, wanting to present himself to the city like the soldier he is.
He sighs, the weight of the day resting heavy on his shoulders. He’d hoped he’d feel more relieved after his conversation with Lucilla, that maybe he’d finally have someone useful he could persuade to act – and yet, the conversation was fruitless.
Frustration throbs behind his eyes, and he closes them, rubbing at his brow.
“You’d think someone who just had a parade held in their honor would look a little less plagued.”
At your voice, his head snaps up. He watches you slip into the room, servant girls on your heels.
He shakes his head, a stern look on his face. “Alone.”
His command is clear, and you obey, dismissing the girls with a slight wave. All for show in the first place, they turn and leave the two of you.
“Where have you been?” he asks. “I’ve been waiting to see you since we entered the gates.”
You walk closer, bending to pick his cape off the floor. “You know I’m not allowed up there with them.” You finger the rich fabric, fighting the urge to bring it to your nose just to inhale his scent.
A scent you’ve missed for almost a year now. A scent that was pressed into your bedding before he left, a scent you used to have memorized from the soft divot just underneath his ear. Oil and sweat and a heady fragrance that clung to his curls and clothes - one you’d been longing for since he left you behind for the promise of North Africa.
“I know,” he answers. “I thought you’d come to see me sooner. Or that I would have seen your face along the route.”
“Would you even have remembered what it looked like?”
It’s childish, the question. You know it, but a barrier comes up automatically, placing protection around your heart. You were so sure of your bond until you saw him climb those steps, taking his place alongside the Emperor. A tiny prick of doubt at the display of his status bled within you, and though you want nothing more than to run to him for reassurance, you can’t bring yourself to do it.
“How can you even ask that?” he asks lowly, hurt and frustration buried between his dark brows.
He steps closer, and yet you withhold, standing your ground.
You did see him on the route, hidden in the back of the crowd, watching from underneath the hood of your robe. The second you heard he was approaching the city, anticipation stole the air from your lungs, so strong that you had to stop your chores. A thousand different scenarios of reuniting with him swirled through your mind, all of them abruptly stopped by the remembrance that you couldn’t greet him. Not in public, not where anyone could see. You watched him instead from the depths of the crowd, feeling pride as he rode past.
There, he looked like a shining god. Here, in front of you, he looks older.
Aged in a way that makes him even more handsome, there is new gray along his temples. More, along the curve of his jaw. The candlelight catches strands that mix in with his dark curls, and you take in the wrinkles the line the edges of his eyes, the ones that crease his forehead. The one between his brows was there before he left, only it’s deeper now - something you know has to do with the way you haven’t touched him yet.
“This finery suits you,” you muse, fingering the edge of his armor.
He scoffs, catching your hand in his. Bringing it to his mouth, you watch with rapt attention as his lips mold to your knuckles, one delicate kiss after another.
“I hate it,” he mumbles against your skin.
You smile. “Then let’s remove it.”
–
He’s patient as you help, but barely.
You can feel the tension radiating off his body as you unclasp his armor and lift it off, the heavy leather set to the side. His eyes stay trained on you as you guide his thick tunic upwards, discarding it onto the floor. He stands in his underclothes for a moment before you sink to your knees and undo the tie at his waist, letting them fall as well. Bare now for your eyes, you inspect him from your position, your hands running over his skin.
It’s familiar, yet not: new wounds that have healed, new scars for your touch. He stirs under your exploration, twitching along his thigh, but you don’t give into the touch you know he wants - not yet. You used to spend hours exploring his body: working oil into his tired muscles, memorizing the firm planes of them born in the training yard. He’s just as thick and strong as you remember, maybe even more so now.
Standing, you turn to retrieve a strigil from his bedside table, undoing the clasp of your tunic with one hand with your back facing him. It falls from your shoulders, slipping onto the floor in a puddle of cloth and when you turn to face him, the hunger in his gaze at your nakedness floods you with arousal.
“They bathed me before the parade,” he says dismissively, glancing at the tool in your grip.
You had a ritual before he left: he would summon you to his chambers, and be waiting for you. You’d help him undress, and sometimes you’d bathe him, but sometimes he liked it better this way - your small hands smearing rich oil along his tanned skin, your fingers working it in. The deliberate strokes of the strigil swept along the lines of his muscles, the tool gathering all the grime and the dust and the sweat from the yard. Never enough that it disappeared though. You smelt it on you when you slipped from his chambers later that night, always pressed into your limbs, his seed trickling from between your thighs.
Assuming he wants the same veneration tonight, you’re surprised when his hand flicks out faster than you’re prepared for, his grip relentless on your wrist. It tightens, and he pulls you towards him, your back to his front. The heat of his body is flush with yours, the weight of his cock thick along the curve of your ass.
“How long I’ve waited to have you,” he breathes into your ear, his tone a growl that sends a shiver down your spine. The scruff along his jaw scrapes against your skin, and you melt into him. “Why are you doing this?”
You drop the stirgil on the tiled floor, the sound barely heard over the pounding of your heart. Letting yourself lean against the thick, broad plane of his chest, his hand lets go of your wrist to skate up your side, roughly palming the weight of your breast. He groans when he touches it, a relieved one that blends with your softer moan, and his other hand curls around your front, cupping you firmly between your thighs. His fingers reach for the curve of your entrance, his teeth scraping along your shoulder when he finds you wet. His touch lingers there, his fingers spreading you to find more evidence of your need.
There is a tension that still vibrates from his form behind you, hidden underneath his skin. He’s holding himself back just for you, and though you want nothing more than to put aside your hesitation and your pride, it’s actually easier to do it this way. To encourage him to take, so different than the sweet murmurs you’ve wished for in the night, less vulnerable than the tender touch of his hands.
You want it to hurt, just like you’ve hurt, and you know he also needs this right now.
Your hand rests upon his, sliding it up.
Up, up, up until it circles your throat.
He flexes his grip, his fingers pressing into your pulse that thrums underneath his touch. You give him silent permission — permission to be the one he wants to be with you sometimes.
Permission for him to be rough, like he is in battle.
Permission to take you as he needs to take you.
Tilting your head to the side, you whisper against his scruffed cheek. “I’m yours, General.” The title gives away the game, your slip into character. “Tell me what you want.”
Your words set him alight, his body moving just how it does on the field: in control, precise, power emanating from his stance when he tugs you away from him and pushes you to your knees. He blocks out the light above you, his fingers curling around your chin to pull you closer. Your hands splay on his sturdy thighs to catch your balance, and he steps forward, crowding you.
“Open your mouth.”
An order, like he was born to give.
Dutifully you do, and he wastes no time feeding himself between your warm, wet lips. The thick tip of his cock brushes against your bottom lip, the weight of him smearing across your tongue the deeper he gets. He tastes so good and so familiar, so musky and masculine, and your tongue runs along the underside of his shaft, curving to the skin as he hardens even more. You slide it along every ridge, every vein of his thick cock, and when he pulls back just before pushing himself deeper with a groan, you swirl your tongue around the rounded tip.
Going back for more, you do it again.
Your hands slide up his thighs to his hips, your fingers digging into the skin, and you pull him deeper, encouraging it. He groans loud and shameless, your cunt throbbing when you look up to the light flickering over his skin. It looks so rich and real , your hands slipping backwards to palm the curve of his ass with a greedy grab.
The release of want pours from you both, his body still tight with tension but a different type of tension: not frustration, but need.
He gives in, thrusting into your mouth harder, flickering candlelight catching the drool that gathers around the edges of your mouth and slides down your chin. Your cheeks hollow, his thumb fitting into the indented curve. Your eyes shut tight, his cock pushing against the tight ring of your throat. He holds there for a moment, and then pulls out, his is cock glistening and he strokes it while you catch your breath, but you’re already grabbing for him before you’re ready.
“I want more,” you beg, your voice hoarse. “Take what you need.”
He strokes himself faster, harder, his stomach tensing.
“I know you’re holding back, but don’t. Take anything you want from me. I can take it.”
Those are the words that do it. He growls, his hand palming the back of your head to force you back onto his cock. He pushes it past your lips as far as it will go and then some, not stopping this time when he reaches your throat. He feels the tight, constricting curve of it, and pushes a little further still, thickening at the strangled whine you let out into the dark curls at the base. Swiping the hair from your face, he cups your cheeks in his hands and angles your face to turn up towards his own.
Then, he fucks.
His pace is relentless, brutal, his cock slipping into the tight fist of your throat with every thrust forward. Stars dance along your vision, your chin soaked with spit. Desperation radiates from him, his grip tightening on your face, your fingers digging crescents into his hips and he groans, wanting more pain.
A familiar ache, one that he’s used to. Something to distract him from the deeper pain of your hesitation when you first walked in the room. Deeper still, the ache he felt for you while he was gone.
“You have no idea how much I missed you. How much I missed this.” Every word of his confession is mixed with his heavy breaths, with soft grunts from the back of his throat.
You hum, a tiny frown pulling between your brows. You missed him just as much, missed this just as much — the way he emanates authority, the way he bends and molds and positions you just like his soldiers, to do as he bids.
He pushes you further, shedding the frustration and pent up tension of the day with every harsh stroke. He feeds it to you, makes you swallow it as it pours from him into your waiting mouth and an ache blooms in your throat, your jaw tense with the effort of trying to stay open wide enough for him to fit. Slipping your slim hand between his strong thighs, you cup his heavy balls with a tender squeeze — a touch that makes his head tip back as they draw up.
Harder, faster and then he doesn’t give you any warning before he fists your hair and pulls you off his cock, stroking it with a slick, rapid beat to come on your chest. Your collarbones, the swell of your breasts.
More, when you start to smear it into your skin like oil, pressing it into your skin.
When he’s finished, he sags with release — though you know he’s not done. His hands reach for you, pulling you up off the floor and then finally — finally — he kisses you.
Fevered and desperate, his mouth open to taste yours, his tongue sliding against your own. Your fingers thread through his curls to keep him close, and his own dig forcefully into your skin, as if you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold you tight. They splay to slide up your back and down again, stretch to cup the curve of your bottom and he lifts you to carry you over to his bed. He means to drop you there so he can sink to his knees, but when you cling to him, he falls with you, his weight settling over your body.
This — this is what you dreamed of every night he was away. This is what you held onto, this is what you missed. This version of Marcus that no one else gets. Not the stoic General, but rather the tender touch of his calloused hands. The slide of his body against yours, the murmurs of his adoration poured along the column of your neck.
Your legs wind around his waist, your hips canting up and he groans into your mouth at the sticky smear you leave on his stomach. More than ready for him, desperate for it.
“My love, I need a minute.”
My love. The endearment fills your heart until tears leak from the corners of your eyes, and you pull him closer, wanting to be buried underneath his bulk. Winding your arms around his neck, you keep his mouth pressed against yours, only to frown when he pulls away.
“I need a minute,” he repeats, his head bending to brush his mouth along your throat. “But let me indulge myself in the meantime.”
You watch the muscles in his thick shoulders shift as he holds himself above you and bends his head, taking your breast into his mouth. It’s a greedy suck, his hand pushing the soft weight of it up so he can fit more. His teeth scrape against the peak, and then he’s moving onto the other one, giving it the same attention while you moan underneath him.
Down further still, he presses kisses along your belly, against each hip. Your thighs open wider, making room for him. A part of you expects him to tease you like you did him, but he doesn’t — he settles in, hooking his arms under your thighs and spreads you wide right before he bends to devour.
Your hands rest upon the top of his head; your own version of a laurel resting on his curls. No adornments, no finery, no pristine armor and gold.
Your eyes close, savoring the slow, wide licks of his tongue. The devotion he gives your cunt with every slick, firm slide.
Not the General that the city fears and adores in equal measure - just Marcus, bending the knee for you.
#marcus acacius#marcus acacius/you#marcus acacius/reader#marcus acacius x you#marcus acacius x reader#gladiator ii#pedro pascal
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Powerless
This is based on a request I received for a Five x female reader that is just as brilliant as Five, but too shy to act on her feelings for him.
Summary: You have had your eye on Five since he first started at the university. Eventually you build up a friendship, but even though you pick up a few hints that maybe he wants something more, you just can't bring yourself to act on it. Luckily, Five has more than enough confidence for the both of you.
Five x Female Reader, 9.5k words, One-shot, reader request
Warnings: Smut, dominant Five, explicit sex
Every time you saw him walk past your reference desk at the university library, it became that much more apparent. You wanted him. On the days he wasn’t there, it was easier to pretend that you had no real interest in him outside of the subject matter he lectured about. You told yourself that you were attracted to him on a purely intellectual level, and nothing more. As if the thought of advanced quantum physics got your pulse quickening and your cheeks flushing.
Then there were those days when he would stride purposefully past, a man on a mission, coffee cup in hand, and dressed in his signature tailored suit. That’s when your little lies to yourself became much harder to believe. He would lock eyes with you, scanning your face with his piercing gaze and half-smile, before continuing on his way and suddenly you couldn’t think straight. On those days, if someone approached you for a simple question, like the library hours, you would stare back at them for several seconds before having to clear your parched throat and ask them to repeat themselves.
Unfortunately, there was no getting around it: Five Hargreeves was not only brilliant, but also sexy as hell. And you couldn’t get him out of your head.
Not that it really mattered. It was no secret that he was a wanted man by most of the staff and students there. You would watch as the more out-going women and men would make a point of cornering him on his way out of his lectures, trying to block the doorway so he couldn’t move around them. Some of them would even find excuses to lightly brush against his arm or shoulder, pretending they were just being friendly, when you knew damn well they just wanted to touch him. You’d had the same urge yourself, but you certainly weren’t going to act on it.
Not only would you never have enough nerve to be that forward, but you have observed his reactions to these advances and it usually does not go well. It’s subtle, but it’s there. The way he flinches slightly at their touches. His obvious disinterest in whatever they are trying to talk to him about. The way he shoulders right past them with hardly a second glance; intent on getting out of there as quickly as possible.
But he always manages to take the route that goes past your desk, pausing sometimes like he wants to say something but then thinks better of it before hurrying away again.
Five has been working at the same university as you for the past several months. It was a big deal when he was first hired. He was the youngest professor they had ever had on their faculty, and everyone was curious. As it turned out, this twenty-something year old man was not what anyone had expected. He was incredibly smart, but he was also brusque, no-nonsense, and sometimes just flat out mean. When he had started, he was given his own office, but for classes he preferred to use the smaller lecture room inside the vast library, although there were plenty of real classrooms around campus that he could have chosen.
Reputation aside, you were inclined to believe there was more to him than being a young, handsome, snarky genius. You were always observant when it came to people, which was part of the reason you worked at the reference desk when you weren’t working on your doctorate. You liked the quiet of the library, and the smell of the books surrounding you. You liked watching people go about their business and the way they interacted with one another. You also liked helping people, even if you were, by nature, an introvert. When it came to talking about the subject matters that interested you, then it was hard to get you to shut up. Unfortunately, there weren’t too many people that wanted to casually chat about theoretical physics and the illusion of time. Most people just wanted to know where the bathroom was.
So, since his arrival, Five had been on your radar for people-watching, but you had never spoken to him. You had once lingered outside the door of one of his classes, watching as he hurriedly scribbled figures and theories on the board, all while his students tried in vain to keep up. When one would dare to interrupt him and ask a question, there would be an aggravated sigh and a terse answer before he would continue on. The subject matter of string theory and how the concept of time is only a reflection of change was nothing you didn’t already know. You were currently working on your own thesis in that area. At one point, you considered taking a seat in the back of the room, but decided against it. You didn’t really like attention drawn to you, and besides, the class was much too rudimentary. But you never failed to slow your step as you passed by the room when he was teaching, just to hear the sound of his voice.
**********************************
“Excuse me, but I can’t seem to locate this book.”
You were engrossed in your research when a piece of paper floated down onto your desk. You recognized the voice immediately, even before looking up. When you did, there he was, apparently waiting for your response. You had never been that close to him before, and he was possibly even more gorgeous up close. His dark brown, messy hair fell over his eyes as he peered down on you with an amused expression. A dimple started to form on his cheek when the corner of his mouth turned up. He was not a huge man, but he still dwarfed your diminutive stature. Nearly everyone was taller and bigger than you, so that wasn’t new. But the way he held himself and the confidence that he exuded made him appear that much larger. You found yourself wondering what the weight of his body would feel like on top of yours.
“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”
You finally got your brain to start working again and you blinked a few times before sputtering out an answer. “What? Oh no, you’re not. I’m sorry…I was just in my own little world I guess. What can I help you with?”
Five pointed down at the paper he had pushed at you. “That.”
On the paper was the name of a physics book that you were already familiar with. “Time: From Concept to Narrative Construct,” you read out loud. You looked back up at him with a small smile. “This is a good one.”
“You’re familiar with it?” Five asked, surprised.
You nodded. “I’ve been consulting it myself for my own research.” Reaching down into your bag that was near your feet, you pulled out a copy. “That’s why you can’t find it. I didn’t think anyone would miss it since it’s just been gathering dust on the shelf for years.”
A genuine smile crossed Five’s face and he leaned in over the desk. “I’ve never met anyone else that would read that voluntarily.”
With a laugh, you held it out to him. “I don’t think I have either. But here you go.”
“No, it’s ok, you can keep it. It sounds like you need it more than I do. What is your research about?”
“I’m currently writing a thesis on the theory of time as a social construct. I know it’s been done, but I’m hoping I can find something new and exciting to add to the field.”
“Very interesting,” he mused while still wearing that sexy, know-it-all smile. He held out his hand for you to shake. “Five Hargreeves. Nice to meet you.”
His hand was warm and firm while his long, slender fingers wrapped around yours. After introducing yourself, you felt your face flush with heat. Just the simple touch of his hand was enough to send a little bolt of pleasure through your body and you looked down at the ground, tucking a strand of your long, brown hair over your ear.
Five seemed to hold onto your hand for longer than necessary, which was nice, but you knew it didn’t mean anything. He had clearly come over here for a book and nothing more.
“Maybe we can meet up sometime and discuss our theories,” he suggested.
You couldn’t believe he was actually suggesting that, but you held in your astonishment and just nodded with a smile. “That would be nice.”
With another cock-sure smirk, Five turned and walked away while you were left sitting there, staring after him with a dreamy look on your face.
The weeks passed and you and Five had become friends. Well, maybe not fully friends; it was hard to say with him. One minute you would be having an in-depth conversation and the next he was saying a quick goodbye and hurrying away. You met for lunch at the university cafeteria to discuss everything from wormholes to the theory of time travel. When you started asking personal questions, though, he tended to shut up. But, that’s ok. You loved your little moments with him and being able to show off your intellect that nobody else appreciated.
“You really are incredibly smart, you know that, right?” Five said one day out of the blue, as you were picking at the wilted lettuce of your salad.
You looked up with raised eyebrows. “Oh…”
“I mean it,” he said, and suddenly his voice was much softer. The way he was looking at you was throwing you for a loop. “I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re brilliant.”
With your face flushed, you laughed softly. “Thanks, Five.”
He smiled and his green eyes flashed with something like affection before he looked down at his own food. You didn’t know what to make of this exchange, because there was no way in hell that he would be interested in you as anything more than a colleague. There was just no way. You watched as he took a drink of his water, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and you almost made an audible whimpering noise at the sight. What you wouldn’t give to run your lips over his slender neck, and trail kisses under his strong jaw. He caught you staring at him and you quickly looked away.
************************************
The night you decided to go out with your friends, they had picked a loud dance club in the seedier part of town that was definitely not your usual scene. But you really needed a good time out with the girls to relieve some of your academic stress, so you didn’t argue. You wore a tight dress that showed off your petite frame, and curled your hair into waves that hung down your back. You slapped on some dark eye makeup and red lipstick before heading out.
The club was packed, with the music pumping and the dance floor full of people grinding all over one another. You were not in the mood for meeting anyone though, you were just there to hang out with your friends and have a couple of drinks.
As you shoved your way towards the bar, a hand grabbed onto yours. You instinctively pulled it away, but when you looked up to see who it belonged to, you saw Five. He had a drink in his hand, most likely whiskey or bourbon, and he was dressed in his signature suit. You tried to cover your excitement on seeing him, but you smiled broadly and tried to yell over the thumping bass.
“Five! Why are you here?”
He leaned in close to you to be heard. That was the closest you had ever been to him, with his mouth just inches from your ear. He smelled like aftershave and mint, with a slight hint of the whiskey he’d been drinking. The slight scruff from his cheek scratched lightly against yours for half a second. It was intoxicating and you closed your eyes as he talked.
“I could ask the same of you. This doesn’t seem like your scene.”
You shrugged. “This is where my friends wanted to go, so I just followed along.”
“Is that right? Do you always do what other people tell you to do?”
When you looked at Five’s face, he had that smirk plastered on, and you couldn’t tell if he was trying to be flirty or not. He was just so damn hard to read.
“Depends on the person who is telling me,” you replied with a slight upturn of your red lips before blushing at your own minor innuendo.
A thoughtful look crossed over his face, followed by a slight nod of approval. “I see.” Then he leaned in close to your ear again. “That is very good to know.”
You chose to brush this comment away before it started taking up residence in your brain and causing all sorts of dirty thoughts. He was just trying to have a conversation, that’s all and nothing more. If it was coming across as flirty, it was probably because his drink had loosened him up.
“So, you didn’t answer me before. This place doesn’t seem like your scene, either. Why are you here?”
Five nodded towards the bar where a tall, lanky man in tight pants appeared to have a small group of people engrossed in a story while he gestured animatedly with a shot glass in his hand. “My stupid brother dragged me here.”
“Oh,” you said with a sly grin. “Do you always do what other people tell you to do?”
Five slowly shook his head ‘no’, then took a long drink from his glass, all while looking you in the eyes. “Not really. I’m usually the one calling the shots.”
You swallowed hard, and looked nervously around. You didn’t want him to see you acting like a fool just from some little throw away comment that you were making a big deal about in your head.
“Well, I was on my way to get a drink.” When he didn’t say anything in return, you continued. “I plan on going out on the dance floor, though.” You paused. “You should join us out there.”
Five laughed sharply. “Oh, fuck no.”
Thinking maybe you insulted him somehow, you looked away again. “Oh, well…ok. I’ll see you around I guess?”
His hand came to rest on your shoulder. “I might not dance,” he said, brushing his cheek against yours as he talked close to your ear again. “But watching you out there would be more than enough entertainment for my night.”
Once again, you were thrown by his comment. It could be taken as flirty, but then again, why would he be flirting with you? He must have been teasing you; insinuating that you would look silly dancing. Suddenly your face was burning again.
“Yeah…ok,” you said quietly, unable to hide your embarrassment. “Bye, Five.”
As you walked away, you felt him staring after you. You didn’t dare turn around, but you could picture the intensity of his gaze on your back. He had rattled you, and because you didn’t know what to make of his comments, you couldn’t decide if you should be annoyed or not. After getting your drink and heading to the dance floor to join your friends, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. You had lost track of him in the crowd after your exchange, but you knew he was still there because his brother was still holding court over at the bar. So, the fact that maybe he was watching you made your body tingle with excitement. If he was, then you decided to put on a decent show for him.
For the next hour, you never left the dance floor. The music continued on an endless loop of pounding basslines, while strobe lights flashed over the crowd, dulling your senses and lulling you into a trance. Swaying your body with the beat, hands in the air, while you worked your hips and ass in enticing circles, you lost all of your usual inhibitions. You weren’t sure where your group of friends had gone, but you didn’t care. As you looked out into the sea of strangers surrounding you, one familiar face stood out.
It was Five, and he was indeed watching you. The strobe lights created an eerie effect of showing him clearly one second, and then gone the next. Each time he reappeared into your view, he was closer. Making his way through the throng of dancers, he slowly neared you, never taking his eyes off you. When he finally reached you, you stopped dancing. It was much too loud and overstimulating on the dance floor to try and talk, so you both stood staring at one another with half-smiles on your faces. After a moment, you started moving with the beat again. Five continued to stand still, his drink in hand. Laughing, you turned around so that you were faced away from him, and continued your sensual dance moves.
You knew you looked good in your tight dress, and even though you still weren't sure of his intentions, you wanted Five to notice. Another minute passed before you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind. You were pulled flush with their body as they moved in rhythm with you. Warm breath fanned across your shoulder and neck, and you smiled to yourself. Pushing back against them, you let your head fall back onto their shoulder while your hands came to rest on top of theirs.
“Five…” you started to say as you turned your face towards him.
The face that greeted you, however, was not the one you were expecting. This was a stranger; some man you had never seen before and he was running his hands all over your body while his erection poked into your ass.
You shrieked and tried to pull away. “Get off of me!”
The club was loud and the lights were disorienting as you struggled against the man, but he just held you tighter. You could see the predatory smile on his face, making your skin crawl. Clawing at his arms that were wrapped around you, you tried to throw your body backwards to loosen his grip. That only seemed to make things worse by pushing your ass harder into his groin. You heard him moan next to your ear and you started to panic.
“Let go, you stupid fucker!” you screamed next to his face while trying to kick and pry his arms off of you. You scanned everyone around you, trying to catch the eye of someone that may be able to help. Everyone was lost in their own worlds, and no one was paying any attention to the sexual assault that was occurring just a few feet away.
Something you did must have worked because suddenly his arms were ripped away from you and you were free. There was a loud cry of surprise from the crowd around you, and when you spun around, you saw the offending man lying in a heap on the floor. A circle of people had formed around him while he writhed on the ground holding his bleeding face.
That’s when you saw Five again. He was standing over the man, glaring down at him with a sneer, while his hands remained balled into fists at his sides. As his chest rose and fell with angry breaths, his eyes met yours.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, although no one could hear you. “Five.”
Taking a few stalking steps towards you, he grabbed onto your arm, pulling you to him with a worried look. You couldn’t hear him, but you could read his lips. “Are you ok?”
You nodded with wide eyes, still trying to fully understand the situation. Before anything else could be said or done, a large bouncer made his way through the crowd. Seeing that there was an injured man on the ground and that Five was clearly the cause of it, he immediately grasped onto Five’s upper arm and pulled him away from you.
“Come on, asshole. Out you go,” he snarled while pushing Five in the direction of the door.
“No wait!” you tried to yell out, but your voice was lost in the deafening music again.
The man Five had clocked had struggled to his feet and was stumbling away, still holding his badly broken nose. The rest of the crowd went back to their previous dancing and the circle filled in again. You were left looking at the back of the bouncer’s head as he forced Five out of the club.
Looking around for your friends, but not seeing them, you pushed your way through the dense dance floor and out into the bar area. It was still crowded, but less so, and the strobe lights weren’t affecting your vision anymore. You saw the door to the club open and close again, with the bouncer walking back towards you, alone, and you hurried towards the exit.
Outside, your ears were ringing as you took in a deep breath of the cool night air. When you saw him sitting on the curb, you let out a sigh of relief.
“Five!” you cried, before hurrying over. He looked up at you through his fringe of hair before sweeping it off his forehead with a smile. “Holy shit.” You sat down next to him, keeping your legs straight out in front of you so that your short dress wouldn’t ride all the way up. “Are you ok?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I’m ok. Are you?”
You nodded. “What happened?”
He shrugged. “I saw some creep trying to molest you, and since it didn’t look like you were appreciating it very much, I thought I’d intervene.”
“Wow,” you breathed out, shaking your head. “I had no idea you were the knight in shining armor type.”
“I don’t think my armor is very shiny, it’s pretty tarnished most days,” he said with a chuckle.
“Well, anyway…thank you.”
He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t read, but his facial features had softened. “You’re welcome.”
You glanced down at his right hand. “Oh shit…your hand. It’s all bruised.”
Five flexed his fingers and shook out his hand. “This is nothing. I’ll be fine.”
When you ran a thumb lightly across his reddened knuckles, you thought you heard a hitch in his breathing. But when you looked back at his face, you found it unreadable again.
“Thank you again, Five. Really.”
He nodded and then looked back at the club. “Well, I don’t think I’ll be welcome back there again, not that I’m complaining. But you go back in. Go have fun with your friends.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Sit here until my brother decides he’s had enough of being a slut so I can go home.”
You pulled your mouth to the side in thought and then bumped his shoulder with your own. “You know, that club isn’t all that great. The fresh air feels good, actually.”
Five didn’t say anything, but you did see a slight smile cross his lips before it was gone again. He looked over at you, his face more serious than you’d seen it before, with his eyebrows pulled together in a way that made you want to attack his mouth with your own.
“I used to be special, you know,” he said quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“I was born with special abilities. The power to time travel and teleport. I had them most of my life. Then they were violently ripped away from me and I haven’t been the same since.”
You stared back at him, not knowing what to make of this. He was clearly joking, but you couldn’t figure out what the joke was. His face was dead serious and his tone of voice conveyed an air of sadness.
“I don’t understand,” you answered hesitantly.
He shook his head with a short laugh and raked a hand through his hair again. “I know, I sound like a lunatic. I don’t expect you to believe me, but it’s true.” He looked off into the distance and sighed, pulling his legs up and resting his arms on his knees. “I spent most of my long life cursing the powers I had because they only ever seemed to bring me more misery. But now that I am finally rid of them…I can’t explain it, but it’s…” His voice trailed off as he searched for the word he wanted. “Painful.”
The way he said ‘painful’ cut right to your heart and you lightly rested your fingers on his arm. “What is painful, Five?”
He continued to look out at the dark sky. “You know, back there, when I punched that fucker in the face? That felt so much better than it should have. It was a rush I hadn’t felt in a long time. And yet…it still wasn’t the same. With my powers, I could have really wasted him. Probably would have had some smart-ass comment for him, too. And I sure as shit wouldn’t have been caught by some lumbering, asshole bouncer, no matter how much bigger he was than me.” He sighed again before turning to face you. “I know this makes no sense and you probably think I’m fucking insane, and I’m sorry. I just…fuck…some days I wish I weren’t so goddamn ordinary.”
“Five, you are the least ordinary person I know. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
His eyes searched your face and suddenly you realized how close you were to one another.
“But you don’t believe me, do you?” he softly.
You paused, taking in the sadness that was evident in his eyes. He somehow appeared years older, with the weariness of an older man. What he said made no sense. But you didn't think he was crazy.
“I believe you, Five.”
His eyebrows furrowed even more. “You do?”
“I think so. But I’d love for you to tell me more about it. I’d like to hear about your life.”
“I’d like to tell you,” he said with a slight nod.
A cool breeze passed over you and you shivered. Five shrugged his jacket off and placed it over your shoulders. You resisted the urge to bury your nose into the fabric to inhale the scent of him. Instead, you just smiled.
“Again, very chivalrous of you,” you teased.
He smiled. “Don’t get used to it.”
After another glance back at the bar behind you, you turned back to Five. “Well, it doesn’t look like the people we came here with are going to be joining us anytime soon. So, how about you tell me everything now.”
“Here?”
“Why not? You’ve got me curious now.”
Five paused. “Yeah, alright. Why not? But just so you know, I won’t blame you if you suddenly want to run back inside or down the street to get away from me.”
You laughed. “I can’t imagine doing that.”
“Well, just wait.”
Over the next hour, you and Five sat on the curb, ignoring the drunken groups of people that would come stumbling past you on their way in or out of the club. You were fully invested in his story. The longer he talked, the more enchanted you became, until it felt like you and he were the only people in the world. He told you all about past timelines, his power to manipulate time and space, and his ultimate downfall that led to a lifetime of loneliness and suffering. He explained about his family and all of their suffering, as well. How he just wanted to save the world and all of them with it. And about how a few years ago, it was all stripped away from him.
“So, being that I had no identity and I looked like a fucking child, I didn’t have a lot of prospects. My family took me in for a while until I figured things out, which I am grateful for but was no picnic. Eventually, I was able to secure a few fake documents in order to get a job and weasel my way into an upstanding position.” He flashed you a devious smile. “That PhD I have hanging in my office? Not exactly legit.”
You laughed, astonished. “You mean you don’t have a doctorate?”
Five shook his head. “Worse. I don’t even have a high school diploma.”
Your mouth hung open for a minute before you let out a loud, long laugh. “Holy shit! You really are a genius!”
Five laughed along with you until you both quieted down and a comfortable calm settled over you both. When he looked at you, he appeared lighter. Like he wasn’t so world-weary anymore.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
“Listening. It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone to talk to about this.” He looked away again. “And I don’t expect you to believe any of it, but the fact that you didn’t run away screaming means a lot.”
“I already told you. I believe you. And thank you, too.”
“For what?”
“Trusting me. Not too many people confide in me. I don’t know if it’s because I’m usually so quiet, or because I’m small and look younger than I am. But no one seems to take me seriously most of the time. So, thank you for seeing something else in me.”
“I see a lot of things in you,” Five said.
Just as you were about to convince yourself that maybe there was something going on between the two of you after all, the bar door opened behind you, the sound of thumping music and loud laughter spilling out into the night. When you turned, you saw your group of friends come stumbling out, giggling and falling over one another.
“There you are!” one of them laughed, pointing in your direction.
“Ooh, she’s not alone, either.”
As your face burned bright red, another one of your friends made a loud shushing noise. “Shut up, you guys…she’s trying to seal the deal. Damn, girl, go for it! He’s smoking hot!”
“Ok, then…” you said over the loud laughter, barely risking a glance in Five’s direction. You slipped his jacket off and handed it back to him. “I am so sorry. They’re usually not this obnoxious, I swear.”
Five chuckled. “I’m very familiar with being surrounded by obnoxious people.”
You stood up and Five followed. Your friends started to flag down a cab as you awkwardly smiled down at the ground.
“Thanks again for punching that guy.”
“My pleasure.” He paused. “By the way,” Five started with a grin. “I wasn’t initially sure you needed help. It looked like you were enjoying it for a second there.”
When you looked at him, he tilted his head to the side with a cocky smirk, stuffing his hands in his pants pockets. Your face burned hotter.
“Um…yeah. I guess I thought it was someone else at first,” you answered truthfully.
“Hmmm…” Five mused. “Interesting.”
Just then, you heard your friends call you over as a cab pulled up. With a wave, you left Five on the curb and got in the car. But the rest of your night was consumed with thoughts of him, and the amazing story he had told you.
*****************************
A week passed and you had been working late. The campus was quiet on the way to your car, but on a whim, you decided to cut through the building where Five kept his office. As luck would have it, you saw the light on behind the frosted glass of the door. You thought briefly of passing right by, but then you gathered enough courage to rap lightly against the frame. After a few seconds, he opened the door.
Looking amazingly fuckable, Five had shed the jacket and vest of his usual three-piece suit, and was left in his white dress shirt and black slacks. His hair was messier than normal, and when your gaze drifted behind him, you saw an opened bottle of whiskey on his desk.
“H-hi,” you stuttered out. “Am I interrupting you?”
Five paused for a second, looking you up and down, before shaking his head slowly. “No.”
He didn’t elaborate and you thought maybe you’d made a mistake coming there, but he suddenly seemed to snap out of whatever haze he had been in. He opened the door wider and gestured inside. “Please, come on in.”
You nodded, stepping inside, and he shut the door behind you with a loud click that made you jump. He was still eyeing you up as he walked to his desk and picked up the bottle of liquor.
“Can I pour you a drink?”
“Sure. Thank you.”
After another moment of silence, with just the slosh of liquid and clink of the bottle against the desk to fill the quiet, Five handed you the glass. You took it from him and his fingers brushed against yours in the process.
You cleared your throat before taking a small sip. The whiskey burned on the way down, but it was delicious. “What are you doing here so late?”
Five shrugged. “Just don’t feel like going home.”
He wasn’t exactly being short with you, but you could tell he was holding something back. After your deep conversation that night outside the club, you felt that you had made a real connection with one another. This, however, seemed like you had taken a step backwards.
“Oh.” You looked around, noticing the somewhat messy mahogany desk that acted as his work station. Behind it rose a wall of bookshelves that were filled with what you imagined to be very advanced physics texts. There didn’t appear to be any real personal items anywhere. No photos of family. No trinkets or tchotchkes on display. Not even any awards or plaques, although you were sure he’d earned some.
“So,” you started nervously. “I’ve figured out my thesis.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. The theory of time travel and its hypothetical consequences on multiple timelines.”
He paused before snorting out a laugh and taking a drink out of his own glass. “Sure you are.”
“I’m serious. You opened my eyes to a whole new world and I want to learn more about it. I thought…you know…I thought you could help me with my research. Since you have first hand experience.”
His eyebrows drew together as he peered at you over his glass. “Why would you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Throw your entire life��s work down the drain for some stupid ass theory that no one is going to believe. They’ll laugh at you.”
You were hurt, but tried to hide it behind a small smile. “People will believe, Five. I believe you. And we have the scientific facts to back it up. Or, at least, you do. But you can teach me. You can explain all of the physics required to work your powers.”
“I don’t have any powers,” he said dryly.
You sighed loudly. “You know what I mean. Come on, I thought you would be excited by this.”
“Yeah. Sorry. I can help with whatever you need.”
There was another awkward pause while you regarded one another, but since he didn’t say anything else, you assumed that was the end of the conversation.
“Thank you. This is really going to change our field, Five, you have no idea.” You set your glass down on the desk. “Well, it’s late, so I’ll leave you be. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
As you moved towards the door, you heard him slam his glass down next to yours. “That’s it?”
When you spun around, you had never seen him looking at you the way that he was right then. You obviously had made him mad in some way, but you weren’t sure what it could have been. His darkened eyes narrowed as they scanned your face and then your body, the muscles in his jaw working in quiet concentration. It unnerved you, but it also made your heart flip in your chest.
“I don’t understand.”
“What more do you want from me?” he asked, voice low and measured.
You swallowed hard, voice trembling as you answered him meekly. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know what else to do to make you notice me.”
“I…I do notice you. Of course I do. We have a whole thing…I thought we were friends…I…,” you stammered before he cut you off with a shake of his head and a step towards you that had you backing up.
“That’s not what I mean and you fucking know it,” he stated plainly, right before he took another step and then another, all the while corralling you away from the door and back into the room.
You sucked in a loud breath as your butt hit the desk behind you, trapping you. “Five…I really don’t–”
“Stop,” he hissed. “You’re the smartest person I know, so cut the shit. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Stop pretending that you don’t.”
At that, you felt a fire light inside of you. It was a combination of the months-long hunger you’ve felt for him and the urge to defend yourself against his asshole remarks.
“Whatever the fuck you’re talking about Five, I’m not playing your little guessing game. If you’re accusing me of something, just say it.”
His lips curled into a sinister smile as he crowded into your personal space. “Fine, I can be blunt. I have done everything I can think of these past few months. We had good conversations, we connected; I tried flirting, although I admit I’m not very good at it. I knocked some shit head to the ground for you.” He stopped and swallowed hard, his voice becoming quieter. “I told you everything.”
“But you’re still not telling me what you want,” you argued, trying to stay strong as your eyes drifted to his lips.
“You,” he rasped. “I want you. And I think you fucking know that.”
You shook your head almost imperceptibly. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“Liar,” he said with a smirk before closing the few inches between you, making you lean back with your hands supporting you on the desktop behind you. You drew in a sharp breath as his hand trailed gently over your cheek, spreading what felt like fire across your skin as he placed his palm against the side of your neck. “Tell me the truth.”
With a hard, audible swallow, you raised your hand to clasp it around his wrist. His skin was warm against yours and you could feel his thrumming pulse under your fingers. “I want you, too. I just didn’t think–”
Cut off from finishing your thought, Five’s mouth was on yours in a heartbeat. Your lack of resistance was immediate as you gave into him; kissing him urgently as you clenched harder onto his wrist. The quiet whimper that you gave made him smile as he used his teeth to gently nip at your bottom lip.
“I’ve thought about this a lot,” Five said when he pulled away.
“What have you been thinking about, exactly?” you said with a flutter of your eyelashes. You weren’t sure where this new assertiveness was coming from, but you let your free hand slide down the side of his chest and stomach before hooking a finger into the belt loop of his pants.
A feral look crossed Five’s face as he pressed into you. With an easy twist of his wrist, he forced your hand off of him until he was the one grasping yours. Taking your soft gasp as a positive reaction, he did the same with your other hand. He leaned his head in close, his eyes closing as he brushed his lips against yours for just a second.
“Fucking you,” he replied plainly, as if that were obvious, his voice even and low. He pushed his thigh between your legs. “Right here.” His mouth trailed along your jaw; the scruff of his chin scraping against your neck. “Making you come on my cock while you’re moaning my name.”
As if he put some sort of spell on you, you automatically whined out, “Five…,” as your eyes fell shut and you pressed your groin against his leg.
“Just like that,” he praised with a smirk, holding your wrists just a little tighter. “Only louder.” When your hazel eyes opened again, they were met with his emerald ones staring steelily down on you. “We could play this game a little more, but I think we’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”
You blinked up at him, your lips parted, and you gave him a small nod of assent.
He dove onto your mouth again, his tongue slipping inside, as he squeezed your wrists. When he moaned quietly, his body flush with yours again, you tried to free your hands so that you could feel more of him, but he held tight. When he moved away from your mouth, he slid his soft lips over your cheek and down your neck, nuzzling into you with his nose and chin.
“I’ve wanted this for so long. You’re the only one that understands me,” he whispered before finally letting go of your wrists and boosting you up onto the desk. Your skirt rode up your thighs as you spread your legs just enough to let him stand in between.
Letting your hands roam over the soft material of his dress shirt, following the curve of his firm, trim waist, and around to his back, you answered him softly. “I do understand you, Five. You’re amazing.”
He didn’t say anything to that, only continued kissing down your neck and over your collarbone. His fingers came to rest at the hem of your sweater, lifting it just slightly above your waistline before stopping. Drawing his head back, he looked deeply into your eyes. That untamed intensity was still there and you held your breath in anticipation of what was going to come next.
“Do you know how to be a good girl?” he asked in that tone that made your mouth water.
His brazenness took you off guard, but only for a second. Fuck, you wanted to be his good girl more than anything. “Yes,” you breathed out a little too eagerly; the panties under your skirt already soaked.
“Perfect,” he murmured, his eyes searching your face and then your chest. “Because I’m going to need you to be very, very good for me.”
You had never been so hot for someone in your life, and you felt like you were going to die if you didn’t feel more of his body on you. He pushed his hips in closer, his hard cock dragging across your pelvis, and enticing you even more.
“Five…” you whimpered.
“Shhh,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss you. The feel of his lips against yours and the heat of his skin was too much and you bucked your hips sharply against him, your butt sliding forward on the desk. He drew back from your mouth, breathing hard. “Stay quiet for me, ok, sweetheart? Can you do that?”
With another pathetic nod of your head, you let him completely take command. He pulled your body roughly towards him, moaning quietly as his fervent kisses deepened and you gave yourself over to whatever power he had over you. He could have told you almost anything, and you would have followed his orders. He was all you needed; all you cared about at that moment. And, fuck, if he didn’t feel amazing with his sizeable dick straining in his pants and pressing against you.
Five was back to pulling at the bottom of your shirt, but this time he didn’t stop. You helped him by raising your hands over your head while he yanked it off. Taking a moment to look you over, his hands made their way around to your back, already working at your bra clasp. You didn’t protest, and soon you were topless while his eyes roamed hungrily over your naked chest.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he moaned before attacking your mouth again.
You made soft moaning noises as his fingers grazed over your breasts and down your stomach. You had spent so much time imagining what this would feel like and now it was really happening. He had pulled away again, breathing hard as he watched his own hands as they sensually massaged your tits, before moving down and around again. As he squeezed your ass roughly, you captured his mouth with yours, not willing to wait for him to come to you. He didn’t resist or back off, even as he continued exploring your body. Sucking at his lips, biting voraciously because you couldn’t get enough, you devoured as much of him as you could get.
Your breath was ragged and harsh as you breathed through your nose, unable to tear yourself away from his delicious taste. With a sudden flinch, Five drew back from you, leaving you panting for air. Raising his hand to his mouth, he pulled his fingers away, showing a small amount of blood on them. Five smiled evilly and licked at his lower lip.
“Biting?”
With a slow smile, you blinked up at him. “I’m sorry. You just taste so damn good.”
He made a humming noise low in his throat as he regarded you thoughtfully. With no warning, he pulled you off of the desktop, and spun you around, ignoring your sharp cry of surprise. With the edge of the desk digging into your lower stomach, you felt Five’s hands on either side of you, his strong fingers grasping at your hips. The unmistakable feeling of his hard cock pushing against your ass was next, and you supported yourself with your hands as you pushed back in response.
One of Five’s arms snaked around to hold you tighter across the front of your waist as he leaned over, covering your back with his body and nuzzling his face against the side of your neck.
“Good girls don’t bite,” he warned, his voice thick with lust. “You lied again.”
You shook your head, your hair hanging down and covering your face. “No, I can be good.”
“Hmmm,” he murmured into your neck. “Let’s see about that.”
Five moved his body so that he had you fully at his mercy. Trapped between him and the desk, you could barely move, and he was strong enough to keep you there as long as he wanted. But you had no desire to leave. Feeling him hard, with his chest heaving against your back, and his harsh breath covering your shoulders, you couldn’t think of any place else you’d rather be.
His hands were on your tits again, squeezing and pushing them together, all while he sucked painful bruises down your neck. You would be marked with his love bites tomorrow, that much was clear, and there would be no way to fully cover them. You had a feeling that was exactly what he wanted, though. Just the thought of everyone seeing what he had done to you was enough to send another surge of wetness between your legs.
Five’s hands slowly made their way down your sides and then your thighs, before coming to the hem of your skirt. This time, unlike with your sweater, he did not hesitate to pull it up. Bunching it around your waist, you were fully exposed to him, aside from the very small pair of thong underwear you were wearing.
“Oh, fuck,” Five moaned as he caressed your ass cheek, and then gave it a light slap. “God, this ass is perfect.”
He enveloped your entire body again, leaning over you so that your upper half was forced down onto the desk. You let out a whimper and bit at your lower lip in an effort to control yourself. You wanted him so badly it hurt, but you also wanted to be good for him, just like he asked. So instead of crying out and begging for him to fuck you, you stayed quiet. The only signs that you were desperate for him were the harsh sounds of your breathing and the way your ass rhythmically rocked against his crotch as if it had a mind of its own.
His fingers wound into your hair as he gave it a tug, forcing your head back as he whispered softly against your neck; his lips tracing feather-light patterns over your skin, but never kissing you.
“Tell me you want me.”
Your answer caught in your throat as you closed your eyes. “I want you.”
Five moved his mouth down to your shoulder, the vibration of his dark voice sending a blissful chill down your spine.
“Tell me you want my cock.”
“I want your cock,” you whined, not even a little ashamed of your submission or arousal.
When Five’s fingers slid their way around your front and into the side of your panties, you gulped in a loud breath and exhaled with a sigh. He knew what he was doing, that much was clear, and he began quickly working you into a frenzy while you shamelessly rolled your hips with each stroke of his hand. Slowly massaging your throbbing clit with his thumb, he entered you with his middle finger. You were so wet for him that you were dripping down his hand and onto his wrist. That just seemed to urge him on, and he continued to slide in and out of your hole with ease, hitting every nerve on the way, until you were moaning and panting with desire.
“Tell me you want me to fuck you,” he demanded. He sucked another bruise onto your shoulder and pressed his thumb harder against you, making you cry out.
“Yes! Please…I want you to fuck me!”
“Say it again.”
“Five!” you whined pitifully. “I want you to fuck me! I’ve been wanting you to fuck me for so long. Just…please!”
With a quiet laugh, Five removed his fingers from between your legs. In another second, he was pulling your panties down your hips and thighs, until they fell onto the floor. Left in nothing but your bunched up skirt, you waited for his next move.
For a minute, you only heard the rustling of clothing mixed with his harsh breathing. When you looked to the side, you saw his shirt being discarded onto the floor. You instinctually made to turn around, but he immediately placed a hand on your back, keeping you in place. His palm was warm and firm against your bare skin as you submitted to his wordless request. The sound that followed was the clinking of metal on metal as he began to undo his belt with his one free hand.
You involuntarily pushed your ass back, but received nothing in return except for a low chuckle. The agonizingly slow pace with which he was unzipping his fly was killing you. A thin river of your arousal slipped down the inside of your thigh, but you could do nothing but wait.
When finally you felt his warm, thick cock slide against your backside, you let out a shaky groan.
“What do you think, sweet girl?” he teased, rubbing the swollen head between your legs, spreading your wetness over you both. “Are you ready for me?”
“Yes…fuck yes…” you gasped. You could barely make out any words; your focus was entirely on his dick and how badly you wanted him inside of you.
You widened your stance when he used his foot to gently nudge your feet apart and allow him better access. His hands grasped at your hips as he pulled you back, and you let your head hang down.
Five eased his cock into your waiting pussy, pausing a few times as he stretched you open. You forgot to breathe as he pushed slowly into you until you were fully penetrated and you heard him make a low growling noise as his pelvis became flush with your ass.
“Five,” you whispered under your breath as you remembered to take in oxygen again.
“What is it, darling?” he asked, the restraint evident in the tightness of his voice.
You arched your back in desperation and made a sad, crying noise that might have sounded painful if you didn’t answer him loudly. “More! Five, please!”
Hugging you tightly to his chest, his dick still fully buried inside of you, he moaned against your shoulder. “Fuck…you are my good girl, aren’t you?”
After one grunting slap of his hips against your ass, you braced yourself with your hands in preparation. Any restraint that Five had been holding onto before that moment was lost, and he began fucking you hard and rough; pounding his thick cock into you over and over again while you whined and moaned beneath him. He told you how beautiful you were, and how long he had been waiting for this moment, all while driving himself deeper inside of you. His dick was hitting just the right spot and you had never felt this amount of intensity from someone else before. You wanted more. It didn’t matter that he was giving you everything he had, his firm body covering your back and his warm mouth brushing down your neck. You still wanted more.
When his fingers found their way to your clit again, that’s when you started to really lose it. You sounded like you were sobbing as you cried out his name, but it was all from pleasure and you reached down to press his hand harder against you.
“Yes…oh god…fff–oh yeah…oh my god…Fi-ive…aaAHH!”
Right as you were about to tip over the edge, Five pressed his forehead against your shoulder. “Let me come inside you. Please.”
You nodded eagerly and squeaked out a weak “Yes” before fully giving yourself over to the building warmth in your groin. The orgasm that washed over you was the most intense you had ever experienced. Your entire body was trembling as your fingers dug into the desktop and your ass pushed back against him in sporadic thrusts. Five delivered one last punishing drive before his hips stilled and he emptied himself inside of you. Your moans were mixing together, combining with the humid air from your collective panting. The scent of sex and arousal filled the room as hot waves of pleasure pulsed over you both. Five’s last rasping growl faded out as you tried to catch your breath. He held you close to him, his hair tickling your neck as his damp chest heaved against your back.
When he slipped out of you, he placed a soft kiss next to your ear before letting you go and backing away. You turned around, facing him for the first time since he had bent you over the desk. His hair was disheveled, with strands of it sticking to his forehead. His eyes that were once dark and piercing were back to their soft green as he gave you a shy smile and pushed his hair back. You took in his hard body, all sculpted abs and lean muscle. Your mouth watered at just the sight and even though you were still in the process of coming down from the strong orgasm he just gave you, you couldn’t help wanting him again.
“Well…” you said with a smile as you leaned back against the desk. “You may not have a real doctorate, but I can say with certainty that you have earned a very real Phd in fucking, Professor Hargreeves.”
Five’s eyebrows raised up his forehead before letting out a shocked laugh.
“What?” you said with a casual shrug. “I’m an introvert…not a prude.”
“Clearly,” Five noted with a smile before bending down to pull up his pants that were still around his ankles.
“No, no,” you said. “Don’t bother. Just take them off.”
With another pleasantly surprised smile, Five did just that and stepped out of his pants. While you pushed your skirt the rest of the way off, he neared you again, holding you close to his naked body and looking down on you with gentle eyes. His hand came to rest on the side of your face.
“I know I’m not special anymore, but you gave me something back. Something I had lost. Thank you.”
“Five, you are special. You’re special to me.” He leaned down to kiss you sensually, and your body responded immediately, already trying to pull him in for more. “Besides,” you smiled as you perched yourself up on the desk again, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I think you just proved you have all the power you need.”
Five’s arrogant grin grew as he pressed his already hardening cock between your legs. “That I do, sweetheart. But, I think we may need to prove this a few more times.” He kissed you roughly on the mouth. “For science.”
#number five x reader#number five x you#five hargreeves x you#five hargreeves x reader#number five smut#five hargreeves smut#tua smut#five hargreeves#number five#female reader#reader insert#smut requests#requests open#five x reader#five x you#badkittywrites
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Even more kitsune!dazai headcanons because I am completely Normal about yokai AU:
He likes to tickle Chuuya with his tails. Chuuya will be passed out, and suddenly something soft as a feather is tickling the underside of his nose, and he's awakening with a loud sneeze. And Dazai's nowhere to be found at the scene of the crime
Kitsunezai having no concept of modern day money, or he just simply doesn't care, and will use illusions and persuasion tactics to flat out steal things. He'll present that nice kimono Chuuya had been eyeing as they strolled through a local festival, and then Chuuya tries to suppress his outrage at the fact Dazai's gonna get himself and both of them in trouble for stealing.
Dazai: "If they're displaying it in a stall, that doesn't mean it's free?" Chuuya: "No!"
He's a fiend for fruit, especially peaches, but he's picky and specifically wants fruit plucked straight from the trees because it kindles a familiar memory of being back home on the mountain where all the fruit trees grow with the season. He tries to grow a fruit tree by Chuuya's place, fails because he doesn't realize how much maintenance was needed for a tree to thrive, and instead they go fruit picking during the different seasons. And Chuuya has to keep an eye on Kitsunezai to make sure he doesn't snack on the berry bushes without paying
The ears on top of his head perk up when he's curious, fascinated by something, or in a particularly good mood. And they droop to the sides when he's sad.
Chuuya brought up the idea of clipping Dazai's nails when they got too long and sharp after Dazai accidentally tore holes in the sleeves of his kimono putting them on, and because Chuuya learns how sharp Dazai's nails are when Dazai runs a finger across his cheek
Dazai loves being pampered after a bath and uses the excuse that he needs Chuuya to dry his tails for him because he can't possibly reach and dry them all. Chuuya doesn't want Dazai dripping water all over the place, and he starts with towel-drying each individual tail, then uses a blowdryer to reach any spots he missed.
...then turns out Dazai's tails turn frizzy and the fur sticks out after using said blowdryer. Chuuya bites back the urge to laugh, Dazai looks devastated as he smooths down his tails
Dazai gifting Chuuya ornaments and accessories of all sorts made from the flowers that grow on the mountain by his shrine. Chuuya amassed an impressive collection of mountain hydrangea flower crowns and bracelets.
Sometimes Dazai will shift into his fox form and squeeze into spaces only he can reach or will hop up on high counters he knows Chuuya can't reach. To get a rise out of Chuuya. But sometimes he'll do it to be cuddly and curl up beside Chuuya on the couch and be like a personal little heater when it starts getting cold out.
As a fox, Dazai once went digging in the grass around Chuuya's place, and concerned neighbors knocked on Chuuya's door about an unknown animal digging holes all over the place
#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#bsd#bsd dazai#bsd chuuya#soukoku#ideas#kitsunezai#i still have to put up my kitsunezai fic from the halloween zine on ao3 *finger guns*#this is my incentive as he stews in my mind
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I love the idea of Valgrace/Jasico where it’s just Jason, being raised by wolves, immediately clocking Leo/Nico as “the runt of the litter” and Mamma Wolf deciding that they therefore MUST be protected.
#like in his head he just has the urge to pick them up by the scruff of their neck and cary them around#he’s just dropping food in their lap like ‘’You’re hungry. Eat.’’#like Leo and Nico both being so scrawny just triggers some primal urge in him to protec#jason pjo#jason grace#pjo jason grace#jason grace hoo#jason grace headcanon#jason grace pjo#heroes of olympus headcanons#nico di angelo headcanon#nico headcanon#pjo headcanon#percy jackson headcanon#pjo headcanons#leo valdez headcanons#jason x nico#nico x jason#jasico#(could be platonic)#leo x jason#jason x leo#valgrace#percy jackson#pjo fandom#pjo#percy jackson fandom#pjo hoo toa#percy jackson and the heroes of olympus#pjo hoo
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Love the idea of Kae getting used to eating consistent meals bc of a significant other or even a friend who made it a point to always eat with him to ensure he doesn't forget, and even gaining a little weight as a result, even with his metabolism.
#☆ ┆ ( .ooc. );#//Him playfully protesting that he hates the couple extra pounds and 'blaming' his other for it#//Meanwhile first chance he gets; he's happily observing his figure; and relieved he's at a healthier one than he was before#//Smth smth abt the healing process and him no longer being so stressed/distracted to neglect to take care of himself in that aspect#//And many others; bc a s/o who goes through routines like that with him (like naps) DEFFO helps him keep on top of that shit#//Or even going through their own routines and him doing smth in parallel play sorta helping remind him of his own shit#//Deffo was sickly thin as a kid; then got better with Addie's care; then his eating routine went OUT the fucken window when Luc left#//Bc he couldn't stomach much with his stress and guilt eating away at him instead#//And then leaving her care it got WORSE; bc then he was too busy/stressed to worry abt himself save his own appearance#//ALL his spoons went to Investigations; Knight Duties; and Beauty routines#//Hence why Noelle bcame so dear to him; when she came into his life; she likely picked up how busy he was and helped him out Lots#//His newer routine of bugging Luc at the tavern actually helps him remember to eat#//Bc he /hates/ drinking on an empty stomach; but typically doesn't care. With Luc; however; going to see him; he gets an urge to front mor#//And snacking means he's less likely to make faces when the alcohol doesn't sit right with him/he drinks too much#//So Luc's less likely to deny him drinks. Charles; Kae can just charm more out of him regardless. Luc takes more convincing#//Drinking at Cats Tail helps too; bc Margaret makes SURE he's had smth before drinking. She understands him in that regard#//Typically makes him eat smth that ends making him sleepy like soup so he heads home & promptly passes tf out hitting the pillow#//He's not actually caught on to the fact that she does this on purpose in the entire time he's been a patron with her#//He keeps chalking it up to how relaxed the mood there is that lulls his body into some sense of security#//bc he DOES gets sleepier around ppl he trusts for that very reason; is why sometimes he pulls away from them#//If Addie manages to get her hands on him before he skeddadles out of the Winery; she'll have him tucked away and sleeping in no time#//And actually having the MOST restful sleep he's ever had in AGES; up until he startles himself awake and realizes Luc's home#//And has to book it TF out of the Winery bc he doesn't want to deal with the man & bicker so soon after waking#//He's already made vulnerable by Addie's care; he doesn't need Luc to carve him right open if their bickering goes too far. Not like this#//It'd be all too easy#//Is also why he likes staying awake and watching people he cares for sleep. Bc if HE sleeps & wakes w them; he shows a MASSIVELY vulnerabl#side to himself that he REALLY doesn't want people seeing; and for hella good reason. It's an open shot at his heart; after all#//Wow; SO many points where it veered jdfbgf. And this was supposed to be abt healing & self-care jdkjfg
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. bragging about your oh-so-perfect boyfriend to your friends certainly has its (welcomed) consequences. . .
tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff & smut. p in v -> unprotected. missionary. sweet but also nasty and condescending. creampie. body worship. size difference / - kink. nicknames ‘(little) princess, baby’. name calling once. not proof read bcs im sleepy. wc. 2k+
“right! he’s so thoughtful,” you sigh dreamily as you chat with your friends over the phone. you’re laying on satoru’s bed, kicking your feet up while you remove your make-up. of course, you had to call your girls to tell them all about the little date you just had with your boyfriend.
satoru’s in the shower, so you’re taking the time to relive the experience.
“here she goes again y’all,” one of your friends sighs dramatically, to which the others follow with giggles of their own. they know that you can go on and on about your partner. they’ve heard all of it before.
you grin and roll your eyes, rubbing the cleansing wipe over your lips, removing the light pink gloss you had on. you’re all giddy as you recall what satoru has done and given to you this evening. you’ve been pampered—spoiled rotten.
“hey! don’t blame me,” you retort with a chuckle. your friends laugh and urge you to go on since they’re only joking. the stories you tell are always either adorable or heartwarming, and thus they’re happy to listen. plus, debriefing you on your love life is free entertainment.
it’s not unusual for you to stray from the main story. you ramble about the restaurant you’ve visited, the pretty green scenery you’ve walked past, the museum you’ve visited, the way satoru paid for everything and how he made sure to pick activities you’re interested.
you get an occasional ‘aww’ or ‘cuteee’ when you mention your boyfriend’s loving gestures. from the enormous bouquet of flowers he’s gotten you, to the fact that he carried you back into his apartment the moment you told him your feet were hurting.
walking in heels wasn’t the smart move you thought it was, though luckily you had a thoughtful lover by your side.
“he’s just so handsome ‘n stuff. god—“ you squeal, not even bothering to dampen your excitement. you hide your face behind your hands for a split second, gaining a few fan girling squeaks from your friends as well. they’re happy that you’re being treated like deserved.
you don’t hear the door of the bedroom open since you’re too busy gushing about satoru. you’re focused on your small pocket mirror, careful not to forget a spot on your face. you notice that your friends have gone quiet, but you don’t question it.
“his gentle personality is honestly such a turn-on,” you mumble as you rub off the concealer from under your eyes, “and his subtle yet possessive touches? phew, don’t get me started.” you continue to babble on about how hot satoru is when he gets mad, unable to point out a flaw.
you’re about to comment on your friends’ sudden silence when a hand lands on your shoulder. you freeze and finally make eye contact with no one other than satoru—hovering over you from behind. he’s smiling down at you and mumbles a quick, ‘hey, baby’, before kissing your forehead.
you try to explain the situation, yet have no idea where to start. you can hear a friend of yours snickering and another faintly whisper an ‘oh, girl. . .’
before you have the ability to get another word out, satoru cuts you off, waving at your front camera for a second. his smile reaches his eyes and his dimples show;
“hey ladies, mind if i steal my girl from you?” satoru asks as he puts an arm around you. he places his cheek against yours, awaiting an answer. your friends are left speechless at the sudden turn of events.
the white-haired man appears extremely good on screen. he’s basically blessing them with his handsome looks. the towel hanging over his head indicates that he just came out of a fresh shower. there’s a visible vein running down his neck—nearly bulging out of the skin—as if satoru’s holding himself back.
once your friends snap out of their daze, they greet satoru and nod, exchanging quick ‘see you later’s. your boyfriend thanks them with another one of his charming smiles. he waves at the camera again, “bye bye, thank you.”
the call ends and the bedroom falls quiet. you stare at your screen which fades to black, completely dumbfounded. you quickly sit up—your mind a chaotic mess full of thoughts.
“satoru, i uhm, i didn’t know—“ you attempt to form an explanation, though you realise that it’s likely futile. satoru’s probably heard every word that left your mouth. you look up at him, your voice a quiet whisper, “how much did you hear?”
the sorcerer grins. he’s so enamored with you; everything you do is adorable. he grabs your hands and holds then into his larger ones—thumbs gently rubbing your skin. he pulls them up to his lips so he could place chaste kisses on your knuckles.
“everything, princess,” satoru hums, rotating your hands to place kisses on the inside of your wrists. there’s a subtle blush on his cheeks that even reaches his ears. no matter how calm and collected he may seem, he’s still but a complete sucker to your love, “talking about me to your little friends, hm? how cute.”
a shiver runs down your spine. you feel your tummy turn as you’re slowly guided onto your back. multiple kisses cover your body—from head to toe—like a canvas getting painted on. satoru’s taking his sweet time, admiring the art that’s your physique.
every piece of clothing that comes off is a step closer to the grande revelation. the masterpiece that is you. moving from one empty spot - filling it with his kisses - to another. sighs of content leave your lover’s mouth with each reveal, as if he hasn’t seen the sight of your naked body before.
“does this turn you on, baby? my ‘subtle touches’?” satoru mutters against your breasts, remembering your earlier words. his blue eyes stare up at you through his white lashes. not wearing his blindfold may overstimulate him due to his abilities, but he’ll risk anything if it’s to admire you the best he can.
he chuckles when you nod. your boyfriend kisses your hard nipples—taking his time to swirl his tongue around both of them just to feel your back arch off the mattress. your hands holding onto him for life is extremely thrilling. “it turns me on too,” satoru confesses quietly. his slender fingers reach the hem of your panties, “you turn me on so fuckin’ much.”
your breath hitches when your underwear gets tossed somewhere across the room. you’re dripping, obviously. there’s no way you couldn’t get turned on by the way satoru’s been worshipping your entire being.
you can also see the effect you have on him; he’s sweating. the vein on his neck seems to grow more visible when your cunt is revealed to him.
“there she is,” satoru grins in satisfaction. he seems to be in a daze for a second before he regains composure. he looks at you for a quick check, needing to know if he has your consent before he continues. the moment you nod, your lover separates your legs.
you sniff and try to hide your embarrassed expression behind a hand. satoru’s quick to pin your wrist above your head so you wouldn’t have the chance to do any of that. “keep your eyes on me, yeah?” he leans in to place a swift kiss on your lips.
“mhm,” you nod after returning the peck. the white-haired man utters a small ‘thank you’ and undoes his sweatpants with his free hand. he fumbles with his boxers—unable to keep himself from trembling in pleasure from the view alone.
your small body underneath him is a sight he’ll never get tired of. that face of yours morphing into one of pleasure whenever you’re intimate is one of his favorite things to witness. thus why the missionary is his go to position.
“c’mon,” satoru kisses your cheek as he manages to pull his erected cock out of his underwear. it’s standing tall, the tip pointing right at the place it wants to be buried at—your wet, warm and inviting pussy, “you were so loud when talking with y’r friends ‘n now you’ve gone quiet on me.”
satoru pouts, “it’s not fair. i wanna hear my princess too.”
you almost choke on your spit because of how whiny yet demanding satoru sounds. you feel his fingers intertwine with yours, firmly holding your hand down above your head. you’re still flustered by the entire situation. you open your mouth as tears gather in your eyes, “i’m sorry, i’m jus— ngh!”
you can’t even get your words out. the lewd feeling of satoru rubbing his tip between your folds completely catches you off guard. he grins, as if he planned on doing that the moment you tried to speak. he’s such a tease.
“shh, shh, i know,” satoru coos mockingly, acting like he’s not doing it on purpose. you can’t blame the man; he’s been rock hard ever since he heard you praise him so openly through the phone. your lovely voice speaking so highly of him was driving him nuts.
you’re so appreciative for all he’s doing and it makes the sorcerer want to spoil you even more. to give you the love and affection you deserve because of how precious you are—even if you don’t realise it.
he wants to give you more. more, more, more.
without thinking, satoru pushes his cock right through your tight cunt. he shudders at the sight of your poor, small pussy struggling to take his fat dick. he can’t hurt you, he knows. especially with the amount of times the bulbous head of his cock nearly bruised your cervix.
though, it’s difficult not to go all out. you’re so accepting of everything he does—satoru can see that by the way your eyes stare at him. it’s all love. the light reflecting in your pupils makes them sparkle beautifully. he cusses under his breath, “y’re so pretty, baby. fuck, fuck, fuck. y’re making it so hard.”
satoru tries his best not to plunge his cock all the way to the hilt. he reaches halfway with each thrust, the thwacking sound increasing by the second. your legs automatically wrap around his waist and your fingers squeeze his.
“toruuu, fmhh, so big,” you babble, the drool forming in the corners of your lips threatening to drip down your chin. each soft yet firm thrust seems to resonate within you, evoking a sense of pleasurable contentment.
satoru lets out a haughty chuckle at the sight of you going cockdrunk already. he’s still trying to hold his urges back by focusing on your satisfaction alone. “i’ll give you something else to brag ‘bout to y’r friends,” he pants with a confident smirk, kissing your jawline as he ruts into you,
you’re embarrassed by your current predicament. despite that, you find yourself enjoying every consequence that your actions have caused. your moans echo in satoru’s ears, each slap of your bodies connecting sounding twice as loud.
his thick cock is stretching you out so well. your cunt is working overtime to make space for every inch. your boyfriend gently bites your bottom lip, his breath faltering when you clench around him in response.
“‘re ya gonna tell them?” satoru asks through a guttural moan. his hips move non-stop, aiming to please you until you lose your mind. he’ll live up to the expectations set no matter what. he kisses the swell of your breasts, “are ya gonna tell ‘em how you let your ‘lovely’ boyfriend fuck you like this? how y’re a complete slut for his cock?”
you don’t know how to react to his dirty talk. it’s getting you wetter, that’s for sure. your thighs shake around his waist and your tummy feels like it’s doing flips. satoru doesn’t leave it there, “gonna tell them about how good i fill you up, yeah? dirty little girl telling all her friends about our private life, tsk tsk.”
it’s overwhelming. the sudden increase in dirty talk makes you want to cum on spot. you feel like you’re being degraded, however satoru’s touches make you feel appreciated and loved. his hand holding yours above your head never leaves you—a sign that this is still him making love to you.
“am—am not gonna,” you hiccup. the words simply roll of your tongue without much thought. you’re mindlessly responding to your lover. “am not gonna tell them anything,” you continue before cutting yourself off with a string of whiny moans when satoru plays with your clit.
satoru shakes his head, increasing the pressure and speed in which he’s pumping into you. he loves the view of you being so helpless—succumbing to the pleasure he’s granting you. “sureeee, i believe you,” your boyfriend snickers and pushes his pulsing cock in further. his tone is soft but condescending, “i’ll trust my little princess to keep her mouth shut f’me.”
you’re getting so close. your nails dig into his skin and your noises get louder. you’re right on the edge of euphoria. the clit stimulation along with the feeling of being filled to the brim is enough to make you see stars.
satoru nods at your desperate whimpers that alarm him that you’re close to climax. “i got you, baby. cum f’me—i got you,” he places sloppy kisses all over your face and rams his cock in and out of you in a stronger rhythm. there’s nothing satoru wants to do in this world more than to flood your insides with his cum.
his cock doesn’t stop prodding at your sweet spots and it’s making you approach that peak; the peak of pleasure that’s going to push you over the edge. you hold tightly onto your lover and he doesn’t hesitate to return the embrace. “it’s okay, do it f’me,” satoru encourages you once again through a husky whisper.
you’re thankful that you have such an attentive partner. he can go from teasing you to comforting you and it’s the most reassuring thing ever. you’ve never had a man hold you so intimately while he’s balls deep into you.
“g’nna cum,” a strangled moan leaves your throat when you try to speak. your chests are pressed together and your heartbeats match—like the perfect pair you are. satoru feels his balls clench with an aching feeling, needing to release every last drop they have stored into your tiny cunt.
just thinking about the way you were bragging about him again, is enough. “take it—fuuuckk—take it all, baby,” the white-haired man takes a deep breath in and can’t help but bury his entire dick inside of you, that one last thrust making you yelp.
you reach your climaxes at the exact same time. your fluids mix as you feel satoru’s thick spurts of cum coat your insides a sticky white. your body spasms and your boyfriend instantly soothes you by rubbing your back. his own legs are trembling a little, but you’re far more important.
you don’t utter a word and simply focus on regaining your energy. all that you can say are incoherent babbles. “easy,” satoru kisses the corners of your eyes and relishes in the fact that he’s fucked you full of his cum. it’s a reminder of just how much he loves you.
a few encouraging words and hugs later and you’ve calmed down. you don’t fully grasp the reality of the situation until the adrenaline and other hormones drop down to a normal level.
you’re suddenly reminded by your previous words and this time, you succeed in hiding your face into the crook of satoru’s neck.
it’s certain that he’s greatly enjoyed overhearing you talk about him to your friends, but it’s still a somewhat embarrassing memory you wish to forget. “not a word, please. j-jus act like you haven’t heard anything,” you mumble quietly now that you’ve come down from your high.
satoru laughs softly. he can’t help but tease you after that—it’s a given. you’re still so caught up on what happened and it’s endearing.
however, satoru wouldn’t be him if he didn’t tease you about your little comments. without pulling out, he tilts his head back and stares down at you with a faint grin, “do i have to act like i haven’t fucked you silly just now too?”
“satoru!”
#sttoru writes.#jjk smut#jjk x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#gojo x you#gojo x y/n
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I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app
*
Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.
“No?” he says.
“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”
“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”
He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.
And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.
“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”
“Lightyears beyond, actually.”
“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”
He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.
“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”
“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.
“Exactly.”
“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”
Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”
Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”
“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”
“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”
There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.
“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”
“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”
#superbat#my writing#i was genuinely surprised to wake up and discover i hadn’t just dreamed the whole thing
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we're dating? ♡
logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader
One-shot A/N: I've decided using the same X-men name/powers for the reader in my Logan fics is easier because coming up with superpowers is hard and stupid. They call you flux, like once, it's really just a nickname incoming warning for fluff so bad you'll get a cavity Summary: You're on probation from the team and official house arrest after a little accident with your powers. Logan knows you're going stir-crazy so he takes you to the arcade for some fun. And then your friendship takes a weird turn. (80's timeline in mind, but characters not from the 80’s will be mentioned) Clueless!reader
You’d had an accident, a few weeks ago. Well, accident might be downplaying it too much. You’d destroyed the garden and left a ten-foot crater in the backyard of Charles’ prestigious grounds. In your defense, you had warned them all that it wasn’t a good idea to take your cuffs off.
The metal bands are entirely necessary to make sure you can’t lose control and wipe out everything around you. Manipulation at an atomic level is beyond fatal. You don’t want to think about what would have happened if you’d had the meltdown and the kids were anywhere near you.
Charles had been able to shut you down, but now he’s keeping you on probation. You’ve been locked up in the mansion, unable to leave until you managed to get your abilities under control. There’s never been a problem with wearing the cuffs before. You don’t understand why he’s so against them now.
You’re going stir-crazy. There’s only so many times you can pace your room before you start to lose your mind. He’s not even letting you teach classes anymore. You’re stuck training, all day, every day.
“Focus!” Charles snaps and you resist the urge to turn his bones liquid. Maybe that would get him off your back.
Instead of killing your friend, you glare at the large tank of water in front of you. You do what you’ve been doing for the past half hour. It fluctuates from liquid to gas to solid, and then liquid again. An endless cycle of repetition that makes you want to melt your brain so you don’t have to do this anymore.
You drop your hand and huff. “This is pointless, Charles. What’s this even teaching me?”
He crosses his arms, walks over to you, and pointedly glares at the tank in front of you. You roll your eyes and look back at it. “Shit,” you hiss. In your frustration, the glass has cracked and splintered into dust. Water pools around your stool and leaks through the wood of the floor. You flick your wrist, the glass swirling around you before reforming into the tank. The water follows along, droplets lifting from the floor and dropping back into the container.
“One moment of frustration, of distraction. That’s all it took.” Charles shakes his head and walks back over to his desk. He picks the cuffs up and you slip them silently back onto your wrists. “How can you be trusted to protect your team on the field if you can’t control this? What are you going to do when you’re panicked and fighting for your life?”
Shame bubbles in your gut. It makes you nauseous and forces your eyes to the floor so you don’t have to face him. He sighs, placing his hands on your shoulders and squeezing gently. You glance up at him briefly and he offers a strained smile.
“This is for your protection, as much as you hate it, Flux. It’s necessary.” You scoff at the use of your X-Men name. Not much of an X-Man if you’re not even on the field anymore.
“Right,” you mutter. “Thanks for the lesson in incompetency,” you don’t let him respond and slam the door to his office closed behind you. You feel bad the second you get outside and onto the porch. He doesn’t deserve your bitchiness. It’s your own fault you can’t get a handle on this. You don't have anyone to blame but yourself.
You let out a dramatic sigh, throwing yourself into a rocking chair and running your hands over your face. The once comforting weight of your cuffs is now oppressing. It just feels like a constant reminder of your failure. You should already have a handle on all of this, but you struggle to even manipulate water.
“Rough day?” You don’t open your eyes as Logan walks by. He takes a seat on the rocking chair beside you, letting out a low groan as he stretches.
You let your hands drop into your lap, staring at the sunset so you don’t have to face him. You’ve already dealt with enough dejection today. You don’t need to look at him and be reminded that you want him in a way you can never have.
“Mhm,” you hum, propping your head in your hand as you watch the sun disappear behind the clouds. The sky is painted in hues of pink and orange that seem too hopeful for how you feel right now.
Logan chuckles, the sound low and gravely. It makes your heart stutter in your chest and you cringe in embarrassment. You know he can hear the way your heart practically beats free of your ribs when you’re around him. You’re sure with that nose of his he can smell some sort of hormonal change in you every time you lay eyes on him.
You swear you’ve never felt this way about a man before. You haven’t had many boyfriends before, it’s not really common among mutants. Not many people are accepting of you when they know what you are. And some people are too into you.
But you've had crushes, and none of them have been as bad as this one is. You want to gnaw on him. It sounds fucking insane every time you think about it. But when you train with him and he tears his shirt off, you want to sink your teeth into him and never let go.
You feel feral around him, a side of you surfacing that you’re not used to. Maybe it’s because of his mutant abilities. They are very animalistic, it’s easy to blame that on how desperately you crave him.
You hate being around him and despise not being in his presence. It’s conflicting, and more often than not you sound like a bumbling idiot when you speak to him because your brain is going in a million different directions.
You hear the familiar click of his lighter and then he shifts again. You risk a peek over at him and regret it the second you do. His head is tilted back, eyes closed in relaxation as he stretches across the porch. Smoke leaks out of his lips as he groans in satisfaction.
You have to pick your jaw up off the floor and make sure there isn’t drool on your chin. This is insane. You’re a grown woman, how does he have this much of an effect on you? He’s not even doing anything! He’s just sitting there and you want to jump his bones.
You whip your head around, mumbling incoherently to yourself to get it together. Logan peaks an eye open and you miss the mischievous tilt to his lips. “Something wrong?”
I need to have sex with you or I’m going to explode.
You stutter for a few seconds, getting your mind back together. “Just training with Charles,” you mutter.
He sits up a little straighter and quirks a brow. When you don’t continue he sighs. “And?” He prods, impatient for your answer. You hope you’re not reading into it, but you think he’s been as disappointed by your absence from the team as you are. He always complains about being partnered up with Scott. You like to think it’s because he misses you. But you’re probably just delusional.
“And, nothing,” you sigh. Your hands flop against your legs and you glare at the bands on your wrists. “No progress. I still can’t control them without these on, and my abilities are watered down and useless with the cuffs.”
Logan huffs, you’re caught off guard by the sudden warmth on your thigh. You glance down, eyes widening ever so slightly when you see his hand on your leg. It nearly covers the whole thing and when he squeezes your thigh you think you’re going to pass out.
You’re friendly. But you’ve never been touchy. At least not like this. The placement of his palm is very intimate and you are struggling not to just get on your knees and profess your undying love. You take in a deep breath, looking up at him so you can get your heartbeat under control.
But looking at him just makes it worse. Because there is so much faith and fondness in his gaze as he looks at you. His lips are tilted up, eyes soft, and you’ve never had someone make you feel so warm and secure from just a look.
“You aren’t useless,” he tells you. He squeezes your thigh again before he retreats back to his chair. You have to clamp your jaw shut so you don’t beg him to keep touching you and never stop. “You’re just stuck in this house all day. You’ve got nothing to do but sit in your failure.”
You scoff and throw yourself back in your seat. “Don’t remind me. I’ve begged Charles to let me out.” Your gaze drifts to the crater in the backyard. Some of the kids have been working on filling it in, but whatever energy you’d let go of has left a permanent mark. “He refuses to give me permission.”
Logan laughs, the noise teasing and a little mean. Your brows furrow and you glance over at him with a questioning look. He tilts his head in disbelief like you’re an idiot. “Seriously, Flux? Just fuckin’ leave, who gives a shit?”
��Uh,” you think on it for a minute before weakly settling on, “Charles?”
His face falls and you sink lower into your seat. He looks out at the yard, gaze distant. His jaw clenches a few times before he puts the cigar out on the ashtray beside him. He gets to his feet and you think he might just leave. Instead, he turns towards you.
You’re caught off guard by the little smirk on his face. “Wanna have some fun?”
Only an idiot would say no.
You grin and place your hand in his, yelping slightly at how easily he pulls you to your feet. You stumble into his chest and are hesitant to back away when his hand drifts to rest on your waist. He looks down at you, smiling, he squeezes your waist once before he backs up.
“Come on, kid.” He tugs you inside the house, leading you downstairs to the garage. You already know what he’s going for before the door is even open.
“Didn’t Scott tell you to leave his bike alone?” Logan takes a step inside. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder and grinning at you. It makes your breath catch in your throat, the happiness on his face. You never see him like this around the others.
You hate thinking like that. Placing too much importance on your relationship with him will only lead to heartbreak down the road. But, you never see him act the way he does with you with anyone else.
“Since when have I ever listened to Cyclops, sweetheart?”
“Good point,” you mutter, moving to stand next to him.
He straddles the seat and looks over expectantly at you. “Don’t you need a helmet?”
You shake your head, “Oh, no, it’ll ruin my hair.” You laugh but he gives you a deadpan look. You don’t regenerate the way he does. An accident would be a lot more fatal for you than it would be for him. You huff, “Relax, Lo, I can use my powers.” When he looks like he’s not going to drop it, you let some energy swirl around your fingers. It solidifies the air around your skin, you reach up and flick at his skull hard enough to hear the metal ding.
He grunts, glaring down at your hand while you grin. “See,” you whisper, sliding onto the back of the bike and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m perfectly safe.” He shakes his head and starts the bike.
The ride to the arcade is spent in silence. Logan always seems to break every speeding law known to man whenever he takes Scott’s bike out. You’re not sure if he does it to purposefully piss the man off, but it makes you cling to him like a wild animal. You feel like if you hit one speed bump you’re going to go flying.
By the time he parks your legs feel like jello. He laughs a little at the way your face has blanched. Again, he offers you a hand and holds the door open to lead you inside. You’re trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this whole thing is odd.
You guys are friends. And you’re friendlier with each other than most of the mutants in the school. But this feels different somehow. For one, Logan kind of despises the arcade. It’s an amalgamation of bad smells and loud noises, and it overwhelms his already sensitive senses. You’ve heard him complain about the smell of body odor and fake cheese enough times when you went on a field trip with the kids.
Secondly, he’s being more touchy than he normally would. You’re not complaining. You weren’t exactly hugged a lot as a kid, mainly just passed between different mutant fetish clubs. Logan isn’t known for handing hugs out so easily. But right now, he doesn’t seem to be ready to not have at least one hand on you.
Maybe he’s just cheering you up. You need to stop drifting so far into your mind and just enjoy the night. “Alright, what’s first bub?”
You grin and drag him towards the claw machine. “I’m horrible at these things,” you inform him as you put your quarters in. “But, I hold out hope that one day I’ll be able to actually beat this monster.”
Three failed attempts later, it’s become embarrassingly clear that you will never beat the claw machine. Logan isn’t even trying to hide his amusement as you become increasingly more frustrated. There’s a certain point where this game stops being fun and starts to be an affront to your character.
Logan peers into the machine and asks, “What are you going for?”
“The pigeon,” you mutter. Your tongue pokes between your lips, and your eyes narrow in concentration. You aim the claw over the pigeon perfectly and slam your hand down on the big red button.
You’re allowed five seconds of celebration before the damn thing slips out of the claws grasp and tumbles into the pile of stuffies below. “Dammit, Bart,” you let the ridiculous name you’ve come up with for the toy slip.
Logan snorts, leaning against the glass while you jam another quarter in the slot. “Bart?” He teases.
You shake your head and give him a look out the side of your eye. “What, you think I call myself Flux because I’m good at coming up with names?” You give up after the last failed attempt and turn to face him with a huff.
He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Tough luck, kid.” He slings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you towards the concession stand.
“Shut up,” you laugh, slapping lightly at his chest.
The rest of the night is nice. He doesn’t play much except for the strength-oriented games. And then you kind of just exploit him for more tickets. By the time you get back to the mansion, you’ve forgotten all about why you were upset in the first place.
Nothing had gone wrong, you didn’t have a total meltdown and wipe out the entire arcade. You don’t know why Charles was so afraid of letting you out.
Logan walks you back to your room, his hand heavy on your lower back as you head up the stairs. You’re talking endlessly, filling up any gap of silence with rambling you’ve lost track of. You don’t know what it is about him that invites you to yap the way you do, but you’re always embarrassed by it the second he leaves.
You reach your door and smile up at him. “Thanks, Lo.”
He gives you a soft smile, his eyes wrinkling endearingly at the corners. He reaches up and brushes some hair off your shoulder. There’s a certain shift in his expression that has your breath stopping short. Whatever else you were going to say to him tumbles off into an incomprehensible whisper.
He leans down and every inappropriate thought you’ve ever had about him suddenly surges to the front of your mind. Your lips part in anticipation, thinking he’s going to kiss you and your fantasies are going to come to life.
His lips brush against your cheek so gently you almost don’t feel them. “‘Night Flux,” he leans back and your body goes with him. He backs off with a smile, walking down the hall to his own room. You feel dazed, eyelashes fluttering rapidly as you fan your cheeks and try to come to terms with what just happened.
He didn’t kiss you, but you oddly aren’t disappointed. You go to bed that night with a lovesick grin on your face. Well, you would have. Were it not for the annoyingly British voice ringing out in your head, “Training’s at four tomorrow morning. Consider it your punishment for sneaking out.”
“Fuck,” you hiss to yourself. Stupid fucking telepaths.
You thought the arcade was a one-off moment. But Logan keeps sneaking you out of the mansion. Charles hasn’t officially lifted the house arrest, but he’s given up trying to keep you inside. Besides, you’ve essentially got a chaperone since Logan is always with you.
You make lunch for the two of you and he’ll take you out to the woods for a picnic. Or you’ll go to the movies together. Sometimes you don’t even do anything, just linger around each other. You enjoy the company, and you love having these quiet moments together with no one else around.
Your favorite part of all of this has to be the way he’s started touching you. He’s always got a hand on your leg or back. And if he can’t do that, then you’re tucked into his side. It’s feeding into a starved part of you that you’ve left neglected for far too long.
It’s only been about two weeks of these fun little adventures and odd behavior. You’re dreading the moment they’ll stop. You’re not sure when Logan’s going to deem you properly cheered up, but you’re hoping it’s not anytime soon.
There have been a few more moments where you think your friendship might turn into something more, and every time you’ve been interrupted. You’re actually starting to feel a little edged. You’ve been considering just grabbing him and planting one on him. But every time you think about it you get sick to your stomach.
You don’t want to make a move on him and end up getting rejected. You know he’s just being a good friend and taking care of you so you don’t end up spiraling too far in your head. It’s happened before, when you’ve been struggling with your abilities. He’s just keeping you from shutting down again and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable because you’re hopelessly in love.
When you walk out of your room this morning you’re immediately smacked in the face. “What the fuck, guys?” You yell at the two kids running past your room. Not the best language for someone who's supposed to be a role model. You can’t be bothered though, not when they’re running around throwing pink rolls of streamer at your face.
“Sorry!” Mary calls over her shoulder, laughing as she pins a heart up onto the wall. You’re sure Charles won’t appreciate the hole in his old ass mahogany wood. It’s only as you watch her run down the stairs that you register just what is going on.
There is pink and red everywhere. It looks like Dollar Store Cupid has thrown up all over the mansion. You’ve been so caught up in your attraction to Logan that, ironically, you’ve forgotten what month it was.
You grumble bitterly to yourself as you trudge down the stairs. Another Valentine’s Day alone and single. How lovely. You spot two kids giggling to themselves by the banister, they lean in like they’re going to kiss and you gag. “Hey!” You snap, and they jump apart, eyes wide with fear. “Quit it, get out of here.” They scramble off and you feel just a little bit vindicated.
“Not a fan of young love, Flux?”
You groan and roll your eyes, turning around to find a very smug Scott watching you bully teenagers. “Shut it, Summers,” you warn. You point an accusing finger at him and he raises his hands in surrender. Faux innocence played across his insufferable smirk. “When you’re in a committed relationship, you don’t get to judge me.”
His brows turn down in confusion, “Wait, but aren’t you and Logan-”
He’s cut off by the sound of a loud crash down the hall. You both turn around just as one of the classroom doors slams open. A bright pink explosion hurtles from the doors and a throng of coughing students follows.
Jubilee walks out a minute later, a guilty expression on her face. “Sorry, I was just trying to make it more Vanetine-y.”
You glance over at Scott, grinning widely at him while you pat his shoulder and walk past him, leaving him to clean up the mess. “Enjoy the young love, Summers.”
You actively avoid Logan all day. You’re already facing constant reminders of how lonely you are. You see kids walking around with baskets of bears and chocolates. Or you catch them passing notes in class with scribbled hearts all over the front.
There’s only so much a girl can take before she loses it. The last thing you need is to be faced with the man you have the worst unrequited crush on in history. But he doesn’t seem to get the hint. He’s everywhere you go, popping up around corners and trying to catch your attention.
You keep brushing him off and pretending like you have something urgent you’re going to be late for. Eventually, though, he was going to catch up with you.
It happens in the kitchen. Most of the kids are in their rooms or the library. The noise has died down and you’re alone. You grumble to yourself, ripping down a pink streamer that keeps drifting across the top of your head and pissing you off. You grab a frozen meal from the fridge and are about to microwave it when he speaks.
“Huh, thought you’d want something a little more romantic than a frozen burrito.”
You gasp, clutching your chest and whirling around on him while your heart races. “Logan, Jesus, you scared me.” He’s frowning at you, eyes glaring at the frozen package in your hand. “Um,” you toss it back in the freezer but the look on his face isn’t going away. “Yeah, I might just go with cereal instead.”
He looks at you and then glances behind him. You peer around his shoulder but you don’t see anything. Without much warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the stairs. “Logan?” There’s no point in trying to resist him, he could just toss you up the stairs if he wanted to. Still, the silence is kind of creeping you out.
You call his name a few more times but give up when he makes it clear he’s not going to be answering you anytime. There’s a rotten feeling in your stomach. You have this awful idea like you’re in trouble for something. Like a little girl who's gotten her hand caught in the cookie jar too many times.
He stops you in front of his door and nods towards it. “You want me to go inside?” He crosses his arms and glares down at you. You huff and mutter, “Jesus, fine.” What the hell is wrong with him?
You grab the doorknob to his room, glaring at him while you do. You throw the door open dramatically, taking a step inside and surveying the area. “Wow,” you suck your teeth and shake your head. “You have not decorated at all.”
“Shut up, smartass,” he mutters in your ear. Chills prick at your skin from his proximity. A shudder goes down your spine as the low tone of his voice reverberates through you. “Look a little harder.”
You roll your eyes but acquiesce. Another run over the room finally shows you what you missed. You gasp and rush towards his bed, “Holy shit, Bart!” He chuckles behind you as you pick the stuffed pigeon up.
“Went back for him after we left,” Logan tells you.
You glare at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How many tries did this take you?” He mouths a smug one and you roll your eyes in irritation. You look back down at the pigeon and smile.
He smells like the inside of a claw machine. His head is sewed on crookedly and you’re pretty sure he’s missing an eye. But he’s absolutely perfect to you. You’re about to thank Logan when you spot something metal wrapped around the stuffie’s neck. “What’s this,” you mumble to yourself.
You slide your fingers under the chain and tug it off Bart’s neck. Logan’s dog tags dangle off your fingers and you stare at him in shock. A sudden cold dread washes over you and you find yourself immobile. “Logan,” you trail off, an unspoken question following his name.
He smirks, walking towards you and slipping the tags out of your hand. “I wanted you to have this,” he says, his voice low like this moment is too precious to break, “so you know you’re not alone. You’re always so afraid of what’s going to happen if you lose control out in the field. But you forget, you’re not alone. You have me, you’re always going to have me.” He places the tags over your neck, untucking your hair from the chain.
You don’t even have words for him. It’s such a deeply personal gift. But this also feels incredibly intimate. There’s no possible way for you to reason this away. This isn’t something “just friends” do.
He seems to prefer your silence, anyway. One of his hands drifts from your neck and cups your jaw. With the utmost tenderness, he lifts your face to his. “Wanted to do this for a while,” he whispers. You almost ask what he’s talking about, but his lips are already covering yours.
It’s incredibly soft, this kiss, softer than you’re used to. He’s barely putting any pressure on you and it makes you realize that you’re still not moving. You’re just standing there in shock, eyes wide open while the man you’ve wanted since you’ve known him kisses you.
You drop Bart to the floor and your arms come up to twine around his neck. You finally close your eyes, let your body melt into his knowing he’ll catch you. The second you reciprocate he really kisses you. Neither of you hold back, each of you pouring all the pent-up desire you’ve felt for each other.
You’ve spent so long dancing around this, around each other. It’s like a missing puzzle piece is returned to you as Logan holds you. You feel full, complete, warmer than you ever have before.
You part from him - needing air - painfully slow. You don’t want to spend a second away from him now that you have him. You wish you didn’t have to breathe. Wished you could have kept kissing him and never stopped.
Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss against your forehead like he can read your thoughts. You can feel the dorky smile that’s about to split your cheeks. You bite your lip, hoping it might suppress it, but you know it’s pointless.
You look up at him with a cheeky twinkle in your eye. “Are you asking me to be your Valentine, Lo?”
He scoffs and pulls away from you slightly. “Do you have to ask your girlfriend to be your Valentine?”
Your eyes widen and your mouth opens and closes rapidly. “I- Well- I mean,” you take a full step back from him and shake your head. “What?” You finally settle on. “I mean, I’m not objecting, at all, but what?”
Logan tilts his head, a disbelieving look on his face. “What do you think we’ve been doing the past three weeks?”
You shake your head, stuttering and struggling for an answer. “I don’t know. I thought you were being a good friend!”
He smiles, there’s no irritation on his face at your cluelessness. If anything he seems to be more endeared to you. “You think I take all my friends on romantic picnics in the woods?”
You sigh, letting out a long disappointed breath. You can’t believe you’ve been so blind. When you think about it, his behavior lately makes a lot more sense. You’re not sure how you were able to trick yourself for so long.
“Well,” you start, walking back towards him as he pulls you into a hug, “certainly not Scott.” He huffs and shakes his head. You give him a sheepish smile, brows knitted together. “I can’t believe we’ve been dating this whole time.”
He just presses another kiss to your temple and shrugs. “It’s alright, sweetheart, you can make it up to me by being my Valentine again next year.”
There’s something unspoken in his voice. A promise that he’s planning to be around for a lot longer than a year. You smile at him, silently promising the same. “Only if you’re mine.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
a/n: i’m gonna gag actually. Made myself cringe there at the end. I want a valentine next year so bad, it’s sad. But what’s the point of a valentine if it’s not going to be Logan?
end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
dividers by @/thecutestgrotto
#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett#logan howlett imagine#x men#x men x you#deadpool and wolverine
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18+ mdni; gn!reader
oral fixation but it's biting instead of sucking. toji has noticed that you like to gnaw on your lip a lot – when you're deep in thought, when you're watching tv, scrolling on your phone, in bed. it's cute. teeth sinking into the soft flesh, eyes blown wide as he works his mouth on you. he can't tear his gaze from you – you're biting down so hard, toji thinks you're going to draw blood. you're desperate, you're needy, and you need more.
he often finds you chewing on your on fingers, too. playing with the sharp canines in your mouth, toji holds back a groan before fixing himself through his pants. it's not his fault you look so good all the fucking time! and the fact that you're doing it unconsciously too, is making his head spin.
you do that in bed as well. toji has learned that you're not trying to hold back your moans – your teeth itch. you need more. he can see the marks you leave on your own skin, how you drool all over the finger that's lodged between your fangs. you bite down harder and harder with every thrust he makes and it has him wondering how much it hurts. do you like the pain? can you even feel it, or is it just pleasure in your head? he needs to know.
so, with one quick move, he pulls your hand from your mouth and pushes his own pointer finger past your lips instead. his hips never falter and he fucking adores the way you try to focus on what he's doing; you're fighting the urge to just let your eyes roll back inside your head but now that his heavy finger sits on top your tongue, you cannot allow them to do so.
your mouth is so warm and wet, and toji twitches inside you. his own lips part as he stares down at your confused expression. you close your mouth around his finger, thinking that he wants you to suck it but no, no...
"bite." his voice is more hushed than usual and the knot in your tummy tightens. "i know ya want to."
hesitation pools in your eyes but he washes it away by leaning forward and pressing a haste kiss to your cheek. it's sloppy, it leaves a stain and a whine bubbles up from your throat. he stays close, his lips brush over your jaw – and that's all it takes for you to obey.
the hiss he let's out is addicting; he pulls back from you in an instant, his mossy eyes glued to your mouth. it doesn't hurt, not really – it's perfect. the roll of his hips slows as he tries to slide his finger between your teeth (he wants it to hurt a little more), he loves the way sharp edges scratch st his already rough skin and he loves the way you're staring up at him right now. a little scared that he'll stop, that he'll tease you, but he won't. not when it feels this good.
you bite down even harder and his hips buck forward at the sensation. his own eyes grow wide, surprised by how much it's affecting him and he grumbles something under his breath before picking up the pace again. you're leaving dents in his skin and you're drooling, you're squirming and twitching. you're so fucking pretty and fucked out and cockdrunk and you keep whining around his fingers and he's going to pump you so full that you're going to taste his cum<33333
#THIS IS SOMETHING RIGHTTTT#????????#AAAAAAAHHHHHHH#fuckass ending#bear with me okayy😔😔#(i don't have a bear)#also not proofread. do u still love me..#toji#toji x reader#toji smut#wtf mickey can write#toji drabble#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro drabble#jjk smut#jjk toji#jjk x reader#jjk drabble
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ৎ⸝⸝⠀COCKWARMING ! —
#pairing : lucifer, alastor, vox, valentino, x gn reader. #cw : 18+ content, mdni. unprotected sex. edging. office sex. public sex. sub/power sub reader. no mentions of specific anatomy. vox is in an online meeting for work. touch starved lucifer. val blowing his smoke on you for fun. non proofread because it's six in the fuckin morning and I have not slept a wink. #summary : in which they keep themselves buried deep inside of you while being busied by other stuff. #note : save me, I've been writing nothing but hazbin smut lately. i should really start working on other shows.. alastor's a bit shorter than the others, can't really think of a solid idea for him and I wanted to get this out as soon as possible
ʚ LUCIFER .
lucifer whines when you force him to focus on his unfinished work once again. he has been going back and forth from attempting to thrust into you, but you always found a way to press him down in his place firmly. he had some unfinished work that he left sitting in his office for almost a week now, and it irritated you. that's when you offered to cockwarm him while he worked, get him to finally get his hands on those unfinished works.
being absolutely touch starved, lucifer agreed without hesitation unaware of how miserable and impatient this will make him. his hand remain on his working desk, occasionally scribbling some words and a signature on the paper filled with printed words. he does his best to resist the urge to finally thrust into you, worried that you'd leave him unsatisfied if he doesn't do as he's told.
but there's a limit to how much he can contain himself, especially when he has you sitting on his lap with his cock stuffing you to the brim, when you'd tease him so often by clenching around him or moving your hips ever so slightly. lucifer whines every time, the hand that's placed on your hip squeezing on your flesh desperately.
"can i please.. just finish this up later?" his voice muffled from nuzzling his face into your shoulder, eyes closed shut to focus on the warmth engulfing his throbbing member. you let out a small chuckle, baring your teeth into his neck to draw out those pretty moans of his; his cock leaks pathetically inside of you.
"no can do, luci. you're not going to get whatever you want until you finish up." you pull away and tilt your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss onto his jaw while giving a quick glance at the papers sprawled across his desk. he's only halfway done with them. "you're doing pretty well, no? you're halfway done."
lucifer groans, annoyed as he picks up the pen from the desk again while reading through the papers. this time, you decide to tease him a little more instead of staying still. you connect your lips with his exposed neck, sucking on the sensitive skin as your hips slowly grind against his. you hear his breath hitch, his knuckles turning white from how hard he's gripping you.
your name spills out from his lips breathlessly, following with a whimper that you love so much. you carry on with your actions, dark marks gradually bloom all over his skin like breathtaking flowers. lucifer shifts to lay his forehead on your shoulder, shuddering from pleasure; you tug on his soft hair, firm enough to lift his head up from your shoulder.
"stay focused, luci. remember what's waiting for you to finish your work."
ʚ ALASTOR .
"oh, what a twist!" alastor exclaims with his eyes glued to the book he's reading, chuckling like you're not clenching down on his cock out of desperation. your eyes are teary as you turn to peek at the page he's on, frustration brewing in your chest. upon noticing your reaction, alastor laughs while moving his hand to cup your face, leaning in with a grin. "don't you agree, my dear?"
you groan, parting your lips further enough to drop his thumb into your mouth, biting down on it. alastor mutters a small "fiesty" before buckling up his hips, watching your eyes widen from the sudden pleasure that shoots up your veins. his arm tightens around your waist to stop you from squirming around excessively.
"put.. the fuckin' book down, a-alastor.." your nails dig into his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt, the back of your other hand hovering over your mouth with a frown on your face. alastor smiles in response, holding the book between the both of you now that there's a gap.
"why, it has only gotten interesting! patience is key, darling."
"it has been almost a whole fucking hour, alast-" your words get cut off by yet another harsh thrust of his hips, an uncontrollable moan slipping off your tongue. a low, barely audible grunt could be heard coming from alastor because of how you're squeezing around him like your life depends on it.
slowly, he places the book down, pushing two digits into your mouth as his sharp nails graze past your gums. your tongue swirls around them, gaze fixated on his that seems to be mocking your desperation. you grind your hips, wanting to feel more of that sensitive spot in you being stimulated by his tip brushing against it. alastor grunts every time you tighten around him, the feeling making his skin jump and his eyes close shut from the pleasure he receives.
you reach for the book to toss it aside, not allowing him any chance to get it back and return to what he was previously putting you through. he laughs at the action before getting cut off by yet another groan, a frown slowly finds its way to spread across his face despite the grin that remains on his lips.
"the book shall wait after all."
ʚ VOX .
the sound of vox's workers and colleagues echoes through his workplace, the source of it coming from the laptop that sits in front of him. he's holding an urgent meeting with them to discuss some things about work, yet you're here obediently sitting on him, cockwarming him. your arms hug his neck tightly, hands grabbing tightly onto his shirt while listening to him speak to the people in call.
you bite down every moan that builds in your throat, not allowing any sound to be heard by anyone but your partner. times when vox isn't discussing important matters, he leans into your ear to whisper praises, thrusting into you, and stops so suddenly when you're close to release.
he grins as you whine at the sudden loss of friction, skin flushed while feeling him draw lazy circles on your hips with his thumbs. he starts speaking again just when you're about to voice your frustration, drawing out a grumble from you. you stay there unattended, glancing at the part where the two of you connect; you're craving release, and you're done waiting.
with a steady pace, you move your own hips while holding onto his shoulders for support. vox's head snaps toward your direction, teeth gritting as he bites back the groans that threaten to leave his lips. he tries to hold you down, but his body betrays him and allows you to carry on with your movements. his head tilts back to lean against the headrest of his chair, the words that his workers speak gradually shifting to a blur in his mind.
"fuck, w-wait," his breath grows heavy, barely managing to keep his eyes open as you fuck yourself on his cock. you're supposed to be cockwarming him, not riding him. he has allowed you to the point of no return, how is he going to carry on with the meeting now? you grab him and connect your lips with his, drinking in his groans like how he does to your moans.
ignoring the calls of his name from the meeting, he pulls you closer by the waist as you grind yourself on him. it wasn't until he started getting annoyed by the meeting that he broke away from the kiss, strings of saliva still connecting your lips while his hand reached out to shut the laptop down. the room falls to a sudden silence, the only sounds that remain are your heavy breathing.
"you're gonna fuck up my company if this carries on," vox snickers before crashing his lips with yours again, hands holding onto your hips to thrust into you without anything holding him back this time.
ʚ VALENTINO .
you still can't process the fact that you're in valentino's studio with his cock buried deep inside of you while people walked around to work on set. valentino takes puffs from the cigarette he holds between his fingers, often ordering and even yelling at people as they rush to obey his commands.
nobody pays any mind to the both of you; in fact, they see it as something normal. after all, they're working for a porn producer, what is there not to be normal? you keep your face stuffed in the fluff of his coat, hands gripping tightly onto his outfit while still trying to adjust to how good he stretches you apart. everyone has just started working, and the set is still being prepared for a new film.
"you're tighter than usual my love, are you that excited to be around everyone?" he teases with a mocking tone, puffing out a wisp of pink smoke onto your flushed face. you lightly shake your head with a whine, the smoke that you inhale causing your vision to spin immediately. humming, valentino lifts your body up with the help of his lower pair of arms before roughly slamming you back down onto his cock. "I doubt that. you've always loved being fucking in public, no? look at you,"
you gasp, body tensing as a moan escapes your throat. you immediately bite down on your lower lip, eyes screwing shut while simultaneously having your body trembling under his hold. you don't want to draw too much attention to yourself, yet the idea alone excites you in an odd way that you never knew it would. noting your reaction, valentino continues repeating the action before stopping promptly, feeding himself with your choked back moans.
"keep looking pretty like that while i work, i'll have a reward waiting for you." you mewl at his words, giving him a weak nod while tugging onto his shirt. he takes another long drag from his cigarette before letting his gaze fall onto the prepared set displayed in front of him, eyes scanning for the stars of the show in the room.
he would moan softly into your ear whenever you clenched around him, teasing you with his mere voice and carrying on with his work. you don't complain, though, considering how you'll be fucked into a moaning mess once he's done with work.
© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.
#﹕a dream to nowhere.#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin lucifer#lucifer#lucifer smut#lucifer x reader#alastor smut#hazbin vox#vox x reader#vox smut#valentino x reader#hazbin valentino#valentino smut#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel imagine#lucifer morningstar#the vees#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel drabble
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➳ inculpatus
--͙[satoru gojo x female! reader]-͙-
╰┈➤ word count; 5800
╰┈➤ rundown; satoru is everything you want and more, it is time you gave him a little more of you.
╰┈➤ caution; virgin! reader (also described as having small breasts), established relationship, corruption kink, cunninglingus, size kink, cum eating, ball sucking (?), handjob, dry humping, fingering.
not proof read!
he is pretty, way too pretty for you to think properly.
"can i suck your dick?" satoru flinches once the words leave your mouth. he is perched on the quaint white sofa in your apartment and maybe you should not have spoken so loosely because his eyes slightly widen as he turns to you.
"sorry! it's just... you haven't tried anything with me." you unsurely speak, avoiding his gaze. satoru is respectful, overly so. you thought inviting him to your place would at least give him a hint without you having to spell it out for him.
sky blue eyes flit over your features before he licks his lips. they are so pink they look doll like. "i don't want to push you." he pauses. "because you're a virgin." while he does not admit it, it undeniably makes him hard.
"i'm not ready for sex but other things." you trail off, "you can do other things with me."
he jaggedly nods, his head feels dizzy after hearing you say he can have his way with you. "i'll do anything you want."
you perk up immediately.
"how do i get it hard?" he follows your gaze as you focus on his crotch. where the grey fabric of his pants are futile in concealing his bulge.
you are too cute. satoru surges forward to press soft wet kisses to the right of your neck before shifting to give the left the same treatment.
your breath picks up at his proximity, you feel the softness of his hair but it is a lot different in this atmosphere.
his large palm cups along your jaw. "you don't have to do anything. i could look at you and my cock gets so hard it hurts. it's worse cause these clothes are so skimpy." his gaze has darkened now, your mouth feels sticky with spit and your stomach turns in an unfamiliar way.
he grips your wrist to bring your hand onto his stiffened erection. "feel that?" he urges your touch along him, it feels hard, long and hot. so hot.
it does not take long before you are caressing him without any assistance, he puffs air into your face. "i didn't make a move cause i didn't want to scare you but i wanted to touch you. whenever you leaned over i saw your titties, i saw how small they are and your puffy nipples. got such cute tits, babe, wanted to suck on them so bad, would you like that?" you mewl at his low voice, his thumb strokes over your bottom lip.
"toru." his expression looks almost pained at how airy you sound, your voice is sexed out already. when you call him like that how is he supposed to stay sane?
he tugs the straps of your vest down, you practically writhe like a cock is in you as your breasts are revealed. you squeeze along his length, your little hand working him despite your lack of experience.
"i want to lick them up, see how much you squirm or if you'd cum from that alone. just from your little tits getting sucked" he paws at your chest, there is barely a handful for him to grope.
he tweaks your nipples, his eyes narrowing and his tongue flicking over his lip. he is so close you can see the sky within his eyes, the thickness of his lashes and the blush along his skin.
"you didn't wear a bra, what about panties? what kind do you wear, ones with little bows, pink, white? what's a virgin like you into? you keep your tight cunt covered in cute ones or do you dress her like a whore?" you moan at the vulgarity, your forehead leaning on his while you lose your bearings.
your pussy is a soaking mess and if you could, you would press your thighs together to relieve the ache that is building up the longer satoru invades your space.
your insides clench and clamp down, they feel like they are begging for something. satoru tugs your hand away from his heady cock and you whine.
"why don't you show me? show me what you have under those slutty shorts." he pinches at your nipple hard enough to make you wince, his teeth flashing as he smiles. he looks so pretty, far too perfect to be real.
your palm slowly strokes your pussy over your shorts, satoru's eyes hold yours before they flit down to look at you touch yourself.
his hands reach for your waist, bunching up in the fabric of your vest. he is so big and strong, his muscles flex and pulse. your fingers prod the waist band, biting your lip as you slip further in.
the soft skin of your pussy meets your fingers and the wetness pooling from your slit drenches them after. it is hot and syrupy. he can see bare skin where your hand keeps the fabric pulled taunt.
"i didn't wear any. cause you'd be here. i thought about you seeing my pussy through my shorts. did you, toru? when i answered the door or when i sat down did you see it?" he groans, rolling his head against yours.
you stroke down your slit, you are wetter than usually. you are so much wetter now than when you are touching yourself to the thought of him.
"you're driving me crazy. yeah i saw it. i saw your little cunt. you need to be careful, i'll start thinking you're telling me to take your pussy when you do things like this." you face contorts, satoru's hand trailing along your sides and his voice sounds like a wet dream come through.
you pump the underside of your fingers along your swollen opening. "i am, toru. it's already yours." your voice is all shaky and you do not sound like yourself at all.
you are all whiny and borderline desperate. you sound like you need to get fucked. you hurriedly tug your hand away to grip his face and press your mouth to his.
the slick from your fingers taints his skin and you hardly know how to kiss but satoru tilts his head to deepen it. he is a good kisser but you knew that already, you have kissed him before but never this exposed, never with this palpable tension.
he hums into your mouth, his hand cupping your throat as his tongue glides over yours. you feel like the saliva pools in your mouth, you suck on his bottom lip then you kiss him harder.
your fingers pull on his hair, your teeth gnashing. it is open mouthed and desperate. the kiss is all wet and sloppy and any time either of you pull back the other chases.
the other pushes forward to keep your mouths connected. wet smacks fill the room, his tongue claims every part of your mouth it already has and when you both lean back your chest is heaving
"fuck, oh fuck." you pant and your fists tangle in his shirt to pull him back in, your lips glide along satoru's, spit swapping and your cunt aching the more you kiss him.
you think you might give him your virginity this very moment.
his thumb strokes your throat, using his grip to draw you closer. your entire body is vibrating, you feel like every neurone in your system is firing off.
you whine, your mouth leaving his with a sticky smacking noise. "i think m'losing it." you breathlessly mutter, satoru drags his finger along your lips, smearing the saliva across the swollen flesh.
"i am too, you shouldn't have let me touch you. i won't be able to stop." you look so innocent, yet your hair is all messed up, your lips are puffy from kissing so aggressively, your cute little boobs are exposed and your pussy is so insanely wet, there is a wet patch through your shorts.
it drives satoru insane, how can you look like sin incarnate and still have innocence all over your face.
"i don't want you to stop." he groans at your admission, you need to stop before he is too far gone. you need to stop before satoru starts thinking about how the inside of your tight virgin pussy will feel. all hot, gooey and sticky. he just knows your leaky little fuck hole would take his shape so well.
he leans in to peck your lips, satoru needs to stop thinking. "m'not letting you suck my cock." you stare at him in disappointment. why are you doing that? satoru has half a mind to stick his cock in one of your holes and you are making it far too difficult not to.
his hands caress your hair, smoothening it down before he cups your face. he wants to bite your pouty lips and never stop kissing them at the same time.
"not today, not gna slip my cock in your tight baby throat and feel all those little muscles gripping me, no cause i want to eat up your pussy instead. i want to taste how sweet you are and stick my tongue in that virgin hole." your fingers paw at his body, feeling his hard stiff muscles beneath them. he tugs off your vest and you lay back as he reaches for the waist band of your shorts.
a deep sound rumbles in his chest when the material peels away from your cunt and he sees it for the first time.
"c'mon didn't you want me to see? spread your legs." and you do, without any fanfare. satoru's large palms coax along the back of your thighs before he cups under your knees to keep you open for his prying eyes. satoru wonders how long you had been thinking about showing him your hot sticky pussy.
he wishes you showed him sooner but he might have lost it since then. your cunt is dripping with slick, it leaks down your hole to your ass. you look all pink inside satoru wants to see it stretched around him, he wants to feel you gripping his cock and milking him dry.
"got such a pretty pussy, i'm lucky, so fucking lucky. my pretty girl is so gorgeous. look at this messy little hole, she's so wet, fuck." the tips of his fingers trail along your slit, collecting your wetness before he rolls your stiff clit. you jolt as he strokes your bundle of nerves. the mewl that escapes you is borderline pornographic.
he leans over to lap at your lips and then he is shoving his tongue in your mouth to roughly kiss you. his entire body is between your legs, he covers you completely. he is so big it makes you ditzy. he is hard and muscular all over.
when he is on you like this, all you can think about is how easily he could fuck you, it is all you want. you want him pounding into your pussy until you are brainless. he is so close he could take you right now if he pleased.
your hands tangle in his hair, trailing down his jaw and neck before you squeeze his broad shoulders. satoru moans into your mouth, propping his arm beside your head to crowd over you more.
your hips stuttering as he rubs your clit harder. you feel his bulge hitting the back of your thigh, hot on your skin beneath his clothes. you want to see it, you want to touch it.
"toru, i want to see you" a growl rumbles in his throat and he licks into your mouth. "take it off, please" you tug at his shirt, he does not want to stop kissing you. his expression is pained as he pulls away, hurriedly yanking off his shirt to reveal his narrow waist and the muscles all over his body.
you giggle when he shoves his pants down and almost falls over. he climbs onto you with an embarrassed smile on his face and blush coating his cheeks. "you laughing at me?" you hum. "cause you're cute and i like you." you brush the long hair away from of his forehead and wrap your legs around his narrow waist to tug him in.
when his covered erection meets your slit you both breathe heavily. "why didn't you take these off?" your finger prods the waistband of his boxers. your eyes are on his, the same ones that look like every sunny sky is held within them.
"i don't trust myself to not fuck you. if i take them off, you won't be a virgin for much longer." you shiver beneath him. that does not sound like a threat, it sounds like the solution to everything.
like something you need to keep breathing. satoru is big, every muscle in his body is defined, you can trace each one with your eyes. his shoulders, his abs, his biceps. you want to see how they flex and bulge when he is losing himself in your cunt. how they will pulse when he is fucking you.
he gropes your breasts, his tongue laving over your nipple before he sucks down on the perked flesh. your legs jerk when he thrusts his hips into yours. your stomach feels tight, you feel like there are too many butterflies within the small space.
your pussy leaks so much liquid it drenches the front of his boxers, it only makes it easier for him to hump away with your pussy. his bulky thighs are warm as they press into the back of yours to hold you open. satoru pants into your skin, you can see the ripple of his back muscles as he fucks his hips.
there are wet smacks of his cock colliding with your cunt, this alone feels so good, you know it would feel a million times better if he was actually fucking you. you want him to have you, you want the real thing. it turns your brain to mush, makes your cunt ache and your tummy tremble.
he is breathless when he kisses you, it is hard and sloppy. almost as hard as his cock grinding against you. it is thick and long, you want to have it in your hand, down your throat, inside you.
you never thought depravity would ruin you like this but it does and it is okay because satoru is the only one you will get like this for.
his hands desperately grip your cheeks and jaw. you moan as he pulls back to slam his hips particularly hard. hard enough to make your body jerk and your back arch.
"i want to eat you out. i need your pussy in my mouth, need to know how you taste." you whine, your nails dig into his nape, thighs squeezing on either side of his hips.
"anything, toru. anything you want." you mewl. the friction on your pussy has your head in a mess, more of a mess than the slick leaking from your untouched hole.
he presses his stuttering hips flush to yours, his hefty length digging into your cunt. "you don't know how much i thought about this, i used to rub my dick raw when i thought about getting my mouth on you. my tongue in you, wanted to smell and taste your pussy so bad."
he slowly kisses down your sternum, hands trailing over the heat his lips leave in their wake. his palms are so wide, just one spans your waist. just one covers the plane of your stomach. his mouth seems to water the closer he gets to your sex.
you tug your legs to your chest, your hands folded and resting over your mouth. you tense when satoru presses his nose into your slick and nudges the flesh. it is embarrassing, even after all you did, it makes you more flustered than you can explain.
"you smell like heaven, baby. fuck don't ever keep this cunt away from me." his tongue flicks out to lave over your buzzing clit and your eyes shut tightly. it is when he reaches your dripping hole does your body stiffen the most.
your toes curl as he licks you greedily, sucking at the sodden flesh. it is like he does not want to stop. he presses further, his tongue flattening over the expanse of your pussy as he licks it entirely.
"fuck, babe. your pussy's too perfect." his eyes flick upwards, they are blown out and predatory. he spreads your lips before wetly spitting a thick glob into you.
he drags it along your slit before plunging a finger inside. it is long and thick, a lot thicker than any of yours. you writhe at the intrusion.
"how am i supposed to fuck such a tight hole? won't be able to take it, i might just rip your cute little cunt apart." his mouth encloses your clit, sucking and licking as he fucks his finger into you. the pace he sets is fast and riveting, it has you moaning like a freaked up slut instead of a virgin.
you brokenly cry when he adds another finger and your insides are stretched more than they are used to. you can hear the soaked soppy noises of your hole being slammed into over and over, his slimy mouth on your clit.
it is so embarrassing. yet it feels so good, getting your insides stroked and having his mouth somewhere you never thought it should be made your entire body buzz.
his mouth wetly separates from your clit with a sticky pop. "you like that? yeah you do, got your pussy dripping all over me." he thrusts his fingers, deep and fast. like he has done it countless times before.
you dumbly nod your head, your insides squeezing his digits and your hips rutting to meet his movements. he pounds into your hole until the creamy liquid is dripping down his wrist and there are tears in your eyes. saliva webs in your mouth while you moan. he slowly pulls his digits out of you.
"you okay?" you hum, sniffling. your eyes trail along his glistening fingers, it is weird to think they were just inside of you. satoru looks at you as he kisses your abdomen, caressing your thigh before his tongue glides along your entrance.
the tip prods your cunt and you whine lowly when the hot slimy muscle finally sinks in, hips tilting at the strange sensation. he groans into your flesh, his jaw dropping to press deeper. the tip of his perfect nose nuzzles against your clit and your eyes flutter constantly.
your lids threaten to shut as his mouth drips saliva onto you and the muscle squirms within your gooey walls. the knot in your stomach pulls tighter and tighter, your thighs tensing at the sight of him bobbing his head between your legs.
your shaky fingers find purchase in fluffy white locks. the feeling of his tongue being pumped into you makes your mind go blank, it makes your mouth water and your insides tighten.
squelching sounds fill the room as he eats your cunt up. his tongue going so deep your vision blurs.
"toru, toru, toru." you did not realise you were moaning. blue eyes flick up to look at you, you who is so lost in pleasure your head is leaned back and your chest is heaving.
satoru thinks if he had to choose the happiness moment in his life it would be here, with you. you were intoxicating enough but having you like this meant he could never be without you.
your slick in his mouth drives him insane, he wants it on his tongue always, he could die happy if your pussy is the last thing he has. he sucks up your drenched hole before moving to your clit.
he laps at the mound, fingers filling your hole to replace his tongue. the faster he shoves into you the more you tremble, the more your body jolts and the tighter you grip his hair. they reach for his shoulders instead, nails digging into his flesh and it makes satoru think about you clawing his skin when his cock is buried balls deep in you.
your voice is all high pitched and whiny, your head writhes against the couch, hips bucking into his face. he does not give you a break, despite your moans being broken and shaky.
no, he slams his fingers into your creamy pussy, feeling your walls pulsing around him as he quickly thrusts into you.
your liquid splatters with the pace of his movements, his mouth alternating between sucking your clit and licking it up. your voice is all honey dew and dreamy when you cream.
satoru groans at the taste of your cum, still fingering your innocent hole as he laps at the evidence of your orgasm. your thighs tremble and you roll your hips into his face, breathless with the weight of your high.
satoru's jaw is covered with slick when he moves over you, his other hand still gently caressing between your folds after slipping out of your sensitive slit. "why do you know how to do that?" you mumble.
"i had to know just so i could do it with you." he flashes you the prettiest smile. you trace his jawline, your blurred eyes trailing over his messy hair, his lengthy lashes, his gorgeous eyes and the slope of his nose.
the pinkness of his lips is more swollen than usual and cum drips down his jaw. even so he lacked imperfections.
satoru pecks your cheek "you were so good, such a perfect girl." he presses his body flush onto yours, both of his arms hugging your figure.
your smile is flustered with his weight on you, you keep him as close as possible. you are overwhelmed in a good way.
you think you would do this countless times so long as it is with satoru. he buries his face into the crook of your neck and sighs softly.
"i don't think i could be without you." truly, he thinks it might break him. you press a kiss to his hair, your hand stroking down the toned bulked up expanse of his back.
"you'll always have me, toru." the sound that escapes him is something like a whine as he leans in to peck your lips.
"we should clean up." you slowly let go when he sits himself up. satoru's arm is resting along the back of the couch, one leg folded while the other rests on the tiled floor.
his dexterous hand adjusts his cock through his boxers. the thickness looks like it is struggling with the constricting fabric. your body feels lighter, the mess between your legs is a bit uncomfortable but you tug them to your chest and look at the male before you.
he is way too big, it makes you all tingly inside. like he could hurt you if he wanted to but he does not. like if he held you, his arms would be the most impenetrable fortress.
"what do you want to do after?" he leans his head back, his eyes turn to you and his adam's apple bobs. he is looking at you but you are staring at his evident erection.
the thin material of his boxers does nothing to hide the girth of his aching cock nor does it conceal the wet patch from his pre cum.
"so shameless." he slyly smiles, he reaches to nudge your chin but his resolve falters when your gaze flits between his crotch and his eyes and your cute little tongue trails along the seam of your kiss swollen lips.
he hopes you do not say what he knows you will because satoru cannot resist you. not a single ounce of him has the strength to refuse you.
"toru, i can take care of you too." his smile slowly drops and his mouth dries. his eyes go dark and he tilts his head.
"yeah?" he sees your little hands bunch into fists before you perch yourself on your knees and you lean closer to him.
satoru wants you this close forever, to always see, touch and have no matter what. your hair frame your face and your lips pouts with your words.
"if you want to use my mouth or anything else, you can." you are temptation. you are temptation in the form of an angel.
satoru swallows hard, he shifts closer to you, hands cupping either side of your head. he kisses your forehead before nuzzling your nose with his.
"today isn't about me, we'll do it another time." your eyes flit over his features, leaning in to peck his plush pink lips. you grips his wrists, stroking them.
"but i want to do it now, i really want to see it." satoru breathes heavily. he feels like there is no air in his lungs.
"okay." it comes out soft, you are too good for him. "i just need you to put something on if i'm taking my boxers off."
his large palm trails down your bare chest "you're too pretty, you're everything i want and i don't trust myself to not take you." you slowly nod before holding his hand. satoru follows you without a question, he would follow you to ends of the earth without any hesitation.
your bedroom is pink where your apartment is white everywhere else, it is like you were hiding all the colour in here. it is his first time in your bedroom despite the countless times you slept over in his.
you have plushies all over your bed, the sheets are pink, your fluffy pillows are pink, your closet is wide open and all that meets the eye is pink. your laptop, headset, desk. it is all pink.
you leave him beside your bed and he sits at the edge with an increasingly painful erection making his boxers tight.
his eyes trail over your room and he has to adjust his cock again. this should not be a turn on.
yet something about you, a pretty little thing like you touching yourself in such an adorable room, getting fucked by him in here.
the thought of him pressing your face into these pink sheets and rawing your cunt with reckless abandon. it makes him lose his mind.
he winces as he tugs his swollen cock. when you come back into his view, pink lacy panties are covering your pussy and the matching bra that conceals your tits makes satoru groan.
you draw closer to him and his large palms caress your hips. "now i know you wear cute panties." he jokingly says but there is a desperate undertone in his voice.
when you kneel down, satoru thinks he might be too turned on to think. he wants to keep you to himself.
your hand strokes along his happy trail before teasing the waistband framing his deep v line. he gently grasps your wrist, preventing you from going further.
"we'll leave the blow job for another day, okay? you can use your hand, i'll tell you what to do." you nod yet your eyes look all hungry. his abs tense, staring at your face as he tucks his thumbs into his boxers and tugs them down his thighs.
finally having his aching cock unrestricted has him grunting. your expression is so flustered yet you are pressing your legs together to dull that burning desire at the sight of him.
he grits his teeth, you are staring at it, from the pinkness of his swollen tip, to the dip where his head meets his shaft. the hefty girth with veins trailing down it, there is one particularly prominent one along the underside.
satoru wants to make you feel every inch of it inside, he wants to make you take his shape. maybe he is thinking too deeply, he jolts when your mouth surrounds the side of his ballsack and your little tongue is laved along it repeatedly. "don't- ohmfuck. okay, okay." he pants, fingers curling into his palms.
you need to stop before satoru shoves his entire cock down your throat without any care that you are gagging and choking on it. the gasp that leaves him is way too shaky. his tip goes past your face, it is over the crown of your head, it is too big for you. he is too big for you but he cannot not touch you.
he needs you like he needs air. he hums softly, he should stop you. he really should but he cannot when you are sucking at his balls. your little hands resting on his upper thighs and your mouth is draining him of any self preservation.
"you like it?" there is a sticky noise as your mouth pulls back, so much saliva on his skin. it is even webbed in your mouth.
"mm, you're so big toru." hearing those words in your soft voice makes his cock ache. he should not, he really should not but he needs to see it.
"keep that pretty baby mouth closed." he cups the back of your head, gripping his cock and squeezing it tightly before he presses it into your cheek. he curses, burning it into memory as he rubs his mushroom tip along your lips. his pre cum looks better than any lipgloss you own.
his fingers tangle in your hair to make you look up at him. having pretty little you, kneeling in nothing but laced panties chips away at satoru's restraint.
"want you to wrap your hand around it, can you do that for me?" you hum, when he lets go your fingers take his place. right around his base, your hand is so much smaller and so much softer. your fingers do not even reach around the perimeter of his cock.
his breaths are all laboured and hard, "don't put it in your mouth, just lick the head." his thumb strokes your cheek and you lean closer. your squirming slimy tongue trails over the slit and satoru throbs against the muscle.
"fuck, baby, you're so good at listening." he grips your hand to guide you up and down his length. "squeeze it a bit and move your hand like this." pre cum dribbles and he lets you do it on your own. it is jerky and unsure but somehow your hand feels so much better than his. he leans back on his arms, his hips moving slightly, his chest heaving and his dick begging for release.
"am i doing okay?" you mumble, begging for praise, feeling the ridges of his cock along your fingers while you slowly stroke up over his thick head and down his shaft.
the liquid seeping from his tip glides down along the sides and collects on your fingers, making it easier to jerk him off.
"more than okay, pretty girl. you're perfect." satoru's hand tangles in your pink sheets, the other reaching to tuck your hair behind your ear.
"faster?" you tilt your head, you are like a puppy. the cutest one ever.
"if you want." he grunts, when your hand starts pumping at his cock more, his eyes roll back. the muscles along his thighs flexing, all over his body in fact. he cannot help but fuck his hips upwards to meet your movements.
he is leaking incessantly, it coats your hand and it sounds all sticky and wet when you rub his cock. satoru curses, he feels like a virgin, maybe it was you, maybe it was your hand on him but it made his stomach all tight and his cock throb with no control.
you stroke at his base with a vigorous pace, your other hand surrounding his upper shaft and moving much slower. he jerks, teeth gritting when your tongue laves over the pinkness of his head before you take it in your mouth. it is so warm and wet, it makes him lose his mind.
your lips rest right before his shaft and the second you suck, satoru tightly grips the sheets, his head hanging and his jaw dropped to moan erotically.
"baby, baby what are you doing to me?" his unsteady palm caresses the crown of your head, petting you like the sight of his cock in your mouth does not tear him to bits. like it has not thrown him over the edge.
he wonders if you can feel him pulsing against your tongue. he wants to know what deeper in your little mouth would feel like wrapped around him.
"you're so fucking good, holy shit. never felt this good before." he groans and your eyes meet his, your wide innocent looking eyes despite how he has tainted you already. you look too pure for what you are doing.
"fuck m'gna cum. gna cum, take your mouth off baby." his hips stutter, muscles jumping. his toes curl into the fluffy mat beneath you both. you are still licking and wetly slurping around his head while you stroke his cock. the heated muscle of your tongue laving at his slit.
satoru's never came this quick before. his lids keep fluttering, he cannot stop groaning. his mind is too occupied with the thought of cumming in your mouth to stop you though he knows he should.
you keep touching and satoru has lost it already. he does not realise he is cumming in your little mouth until your hands have slowed down and you are teary eyed with milky liquid dripping down your jaw.
he curses. satoru is so sensitive and you are swallowing, why do you keep swallowing?
"baby, don't swallow. fuck, you don't have to." your hands shift to rest on his thighs, your brows furrowed and your little throat still bobbing.
you lean back and strands of cum are webbed in your mouth, still connected to his softening member. it drips onto the rug beneath you.
you sniffle, swallowing hard while you gaze up at him. your eyes are all glossy and pretty.
"i didn't think it would be that much." you are on your knees, right in front of him with your belly full of his cum, looking like the sweetest girl in the whole world.
you are his, you are all his. you have to be.
he cups either side of your face, leaning down to kiss you hard. he tilts his head, his tongue gliding over yours and the taste of his cum heavy in your mouth.
he reaches under your arms to lift you into his lap, nose nuzzling yours while he hugs you close. you are so much smaller you tuck right in along his large frame.
"i like you too much." he breathes into your shared air.
satoru cannot get enough of you.
#🩷.jjk#san.stories#jjk smut#jjk x reader#gojo satoru#gojo smut#gojo x you#gojou satoru x reader#jjk#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu satoru#gojo x reader#gojo saturo#jjk satoru#satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen satoru#📁.size kink#📁.virginity kink#📁.corruption kink
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We share the love language of biting. Now imagine TWST beatsfolk has that as an actual sign of courting. Like you're chilling with Leona, not dating or wooing him, and then you bite his cheek in affection. And all of Savanaclaw is shocked because among them, it's the same as i.e. proposing marriage. The utter chaos XD
OHH MY GOSSSHHH YOUR BRAIN >>> I LITERALLY LOVE THIS SO MUCH??? HAHAHA SODEFHSELKJD i'm gonna expand on that for a few characters...
Accidentally courting them
General warnings: Gender-neutral reader, not really proof read lol. Obvious Malleus and Lilia favoritism <3 I also decided that they ARE dating in this scenario, I think its cuter that way in my head heuheu
Featuring: Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Malleus, Lilia, ... and Rook HAHA.
TW: none! Just a bunch o' fluff of biting your non-human lover without realizing it was a sign of courtship <3
Leona
It was a typical day for Leona. You two were sitting in the lounge where most of the other students lingered, Leona becoming rather... possessive as of late. Instead of resting in his bedroom away from prying eyes as you had requested from your lover, he ignored all your feeble cries requesting privacy. Instead, he holds you in his lap without worrying what others are thinking. A form of showing others you were his, and his alone. You were conflicted in your feelings, staring at him. His eyes were closed, but he could feel your gaze burning into his head.
"How long are you-" Then it happened. You gave in. You gave his cheek a bit of a nibble. All of the sudden the chattering stopped, all eyes were on you, before they start patting Leonas back and giving him congrats while a few seemed to pull presents right out of their asses.
"Wha- what's going on?" Leona grumbled with a light blush before growling and pushing the face of someone who tried to hand him another gift.
"You all look like idiots! You know biting means something different to us. Don't be dumb." Okay, now you were extra confused. Seeing your utter ignorance, Leona sighed.
"Biting in our land is a sign of courtship, herbivore." ...Oh. You blush deeply and hide your face in his chest, Leona looking away flustered and ruffling your hair.
"Try again in a few years, and I just might bite you back."
Ruggie
You were walking down the halls with your boyfriend when suddenly you had the urge to just...bite him. an overwhelming sense of love and affection for the fact he had given you some of the bread he (probably legally) got ahold of. You smiled fondly at the bread and back at Ruggie before placing your mouth on the bulb of his shoulder, causing him to yelp in suprise and dropping his half of the bread.
"wha- huh?! What was that for?" He became flustered, bending over to pick up his bread and slowly move away from you with bright red cheeks. You furrowed your eyebrows and hugged yourself, almost embarrassed.
"I'm sorry, I just...I dunno," Your cryptic and non specific response left him with his jaw open and eyes wide, spluttering out things like "We're still in school! I don't have the funds yet-" before a familiar fist came and knocked the back of Ruggies head. Leona stood there smiling in amusement and chuckling at you.
"I don't think they know what that means to us beastman, Ruggie." Even more confused then before, you asked for clarification.
"You just asked him to marry you with that bite of yours, herbivore." Now YOUR mouth was wide open, and Ruggie managed to get flee from the scene without much notice from you nor his senior.
Oh brother. You have a lot of communicating to do with that one.
Jack
You were sitting at the lunch table eating away at your food when you noticed...Jack's biceps. You marveled at the sight of his bulky arms- it's a wonder to you how he managed to become so strong and have the motivation to train all day. With a burst of admiration, instead of biting into your sandwich - you took a bite into his muscle. He yelped in suprise and just stared at you, face slowly turning red. Ace and Deuce laughed at his reaction, ready to ask you what was up before Jack took it upon himself to... well, flustered and rapidly spit-firing plans.
"W-we are still so young! Are you sure about this? I-i never knew our relationship was at this level!" He grabbed both of your hands and looked you in your (bewildered) eyes.
"If you're serious about this, I promise I will protect and love you for the rest of my life. But before we go ahead with the ceremony, I want you to meet my parents and get their blessings. Oh, and I need to get a stable job after we finish school first, too, so I can support you and our future. know we haven't talked about marriage before but-" You quickly cut him off in astonishment before crying out,
"MARRIAGE?! Jack, WHAT are you talking about?! I am absolutely not ready for marriage! What got into you?!"
...Queue Ruggie and Leona hysterically laughing at your utter confusion, reveling in the ignorance of it all for a few moments longer before explaining properly what you had just committed yourself unknowingly to.
Malleus
You were laying in the bed of Malleus Draconias's dorm, scrolling on your phone whilst his tail wrapped around your waist as he sat next to you reading a book. You sighed lightly and leaned your head back against the board of the mattress, turning slightly to look at your handsome fae lover. Your eyes then went down to his pale and perfect skin of his neck, the way it was free from all blemishes, smooth, and bright. Something about it made you want to taint it a light shade of red... He felt you shuffle slightly to adjust your body to be in just the right position where his neck was in full view. He glanced over to you feeling you wriggle free from his tails grasp, tilting his head seeing the look in your eyes crazed as you leaned over and just...chomped down on his collarbone.
You felt his tail twitch and his hands quickly throw the book he was reading aside to grasp your wrists, turning your body around and pinning you to the bed and carrassing your cheek with his tail.
"Biting..." He murmured, "Does this mean the same to humans as it does to Fae? You wish to be wed?" Your jaw dropped and cheeks took on a rosey hue, stuttering over yourself.
"W-wed?! I mean, I like to bite when I feel affectionate b-but marriage...I mean maybe one day b-but-"
"Biting in Fae culture is a sign of courtship and ownership. How brazen of you to mark me," he chuckled, "I shall take it you wish to own the next king of Briar Valley?" You could tell at this point Malleus was teasing you, something he picked up from the time you two have been dating.
Malleus could not help but return the favor by riddling your body with his own bite marks. Although he understood you perhaps did not have the intention of marrying him with your silly little form of affection, he knew in his mind with every bite that he was very serious about your future with him.
Lilia
Lilia already knew that biting in the human world did not mean marriage, yet was akin to something more of "cute aggression." So when you have the habit of biting him in the privacy of yours or his room, he knows you simply meant it as a form of affection, letting him know that you had an overwhelming sense of love for the old fae. He bit you back consistently on many occasions, it just seemed to be the perfect form of showing love for one another.
You didn't actually know it meant something much deeper, until you were in the diasomnia lounge and unable to control yourself as you grabbed Lilias hand and bit down gently on his wrist. You couldn't help it, he was being so entirely silly and loving towards you, that you couldn't help but show this public display of affection. Much to everyone else's dismay, however. Sebek stares at you with his mouth agape, sounds of disbelief escaping past his lips yet a sentence unable to form. Malleus as well seemed surprised at this.
"(y/n)," Malleus said, "You wish to marry Lilia?" You coughed at the sudden question and let out a feeble and awkward chuckle.
"I mean...I wouldn't mind one day, of course. We haven't really talked about it. Why the sudden question?"
"HOW DARE YOU," Sebek cried out after finally finding his words, "How dare you bite Lilia and be so insolent as to not move forward with your actions in dignity! YOU MUST TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR PROPOSAL-" Lilia started snickering, cutting Sebek off with a wave of his hand.
"It's quite alright, Sebek. Biting means something much different to humans than Fae, I suppose this is the first you had seen us put on a show of affection, hence your confusion." He turned to you, who had furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips at Sebeks sudden outburst.
"Biting, my dear, is a form of courtship to us fae. It is a sign of ownership," He chuckled.
"Why didn't you tell me that?!" You exasperated, "I mean, it wouldn't have changed anything I have done, but I would have been more careful about it... especially if it means something more to you," Lilia gracefully explained he understood it meant something slightly different to humans, before gently grabbing your hand and raising it to his mouth.
"Well, now that you understand what it means," He put your ring finger into his mouth and took a bite at the base,
"Would you like to bite me once more, my dear?"
Bonus:
Rook
You bit his arm and he immediately was on one knee.
"Was that a proposal? You know mon cheri, biting one affectionately is often a declaration of courtship-" You hit the top of his head and walked away from your interesting boyfriend.
"You're not a beastman or a fae! I'm never biting you again!" Your face red and folding your arms, turning away (ah, his cute tsundere lover.)
Oh woe is Rook! He begs and begs you to bite him more, he wants to be covered in your marks. It means you were claiming him as your own, right? RIGHT??
~~~
This was so fun to write DFSEFDSFIHSLDKJF thank you for the brain rot heuheuheueheueh
Masterlist
#Twisted wonderland#Twst#Twisted wonderland x reader#Lilia vanrouge#lilia x reader#Malleus#Malleus draconia#Malleus x reader#rook x reader#rook hunt#Leona kingscholar#leona x reader#twst fanfictions#ruggie x reader#Jack howl#Jack howl x reader#Twisted wonderland fanfictions#twst fanfics#twst x reader
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for the fear of falling apart | part one
after hearing her gunpoint confession, your sister pressures you into airing your grievances at Rossi's wedding
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue
series masterlist
who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst content warnings: takes place following/during 14x15 "truth or dare", fem!reader, established relationship, mentions roslyn, unresolved conflict, a lot of insecurity, cm violence, i think everyone has a fault in this word count: 2.47k a/n: so this idea popped into my head. i think the concept of spencer dating jj's younger sister is insane and i love it. i hope you like it as well. (i want to write a part two so bad i hate leaving things unresolved). also this is not jj hate that's my girl i loved her even before i loved spencer!!!!
“Please, can you just hear me out?” Your sister pleaded, keeping her voice low so you didn’t take any attention off of the bride and groom.
Bringing your glass to your lips, you shrugged, “I’m not sure this is the right place, Jennifer,” you murmured, looking across the room at your brother-in-law, “I think Will’s looking for you.”
She brushed off your dismissal, “I’ll go over once we figure this out. Let’s go out to the courtyard and talk.”
JJ reached out and gently gripped your elbow, trying to guide you through the French doors of the wedding venue, but you yanked your arm away, crossing your arms in front of your stomach. “It’s rude to leave now, this is a wedding, we’re guests here,” you scolded her, focusing your eyes forward. The ceremony was over, and everyone was mingling, but you refused to be the first to leave. Besides, going home would mean needing to face Spencer – another discussion you didn’t have the energy for.
You knew she hated leaving things unfinished. The both of you could feel the rift between you growing as if the earth was physically shifting beneath your feet. “It would just be for a second,” she urged.
Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “It’s fifteen years of dirty laundry, Jayg. It’s going to take more than a second to air it out.” You frowned into your newly emptied glass before hauling yourself over to the bar, grateful that she didn’t follow, “Can you make me one of the pink glittery drinks?”
Penelope, the honorary bartender for the evening, nodded reassuringly, taking an already-made beverage from the counter and sliding it over to you, “You look like you could use it,” she observed.
You sighed in concurrence, “You have no idea,” you mumbled as you brought the glass to your lips. The drink itself was a bit of an abomination, so strong that it burnt your nostrils as it went down, “God, that’s strong.”
The technical analyst just laughed, making her way back to the dance floor to meet up with Luke and Matt. Your gaze flickered over other members of the team until you were met with familiar brown eyes.
There had been a ball of dread forming in your stomach ever since you returned from Los Angeles. From where you were standing now, the cut on your boyfriend’s hand that you had preoccupied yourself with seemed inconsequential. You watched him now, in real-time as he glanced between you and your sister, picking up on the tension as you avoided her.
Someone was bound to snap.
Walking away from the bar, you went out into the hallway, finding the nearest door and practically throwing yourself outside. Pulling your hair off the back of your neck with your free hand, you sat down on a moss-covered bench in the courtyard and waited for the cold night air to cool you off.
As expected, you heard the door behind you click. You couldn’t be bothered to look at who it was, if it was important to them, they’d come to you. Sure enough, you remained focused on your drink as Spencer took a seat on the bench next to you, “Aren’t you cold?”
“Alcohol,” you mumbled, “Keeps me warm.”
Not exactly the answer he was going for, but he took it at face value. He was probably more comfortable in his suit than you were in your dress. “Are you feeling alright?”
You thought about lying to him. Telling him that you were just tired, it had been a long week of watching your sister and boyfriend being held hostage in a pawn shop and hunting Everett Lynch on top of your normal caseload, but the thought of holding up that lie just made you feel worse. Taking a large sip of your drink, you took a deep breath before speaking, “Garcia recovered the audio from the CCTV footage inside of the pawn shop. Emily asked me to review the tapes and let her know if I thought there was anything pertinent that should be added to the case files.”
He didn’t respond for a while, knowing exactly what you were getting at but not sure how to further the conversation, “And did you?”
You lifted your glass again, “There wasn’t anything in the tapes that was necessary for the case. I buried the audio files and transcripts and sealed the file.”
“Thank you,” he said, relief evident in his tone.
You, however, frowned at his response, “’Thank you’?” You repeated, an accusation in your voice, “I was scared shitless while the two of you were in there, and all the while my sister was confessing her love for you.”
Spencer was quiet again, rendered speechless by your words. Your description was accurate, if not blunt.
You sniffled, setting your glass down and wrapping your arms around yourself, “I have never felt more humiliated, and no one else can ever know why.” You traced the cobblestones on the ground with your eyes as thoughts continued racing through your head. “God, is this why she pushed us together?”
The door behind you clicked again and you stiffened, closing your eyes when you heard JJ coming out into the courtyard, “Ducky, we need to talk.”
“Don’t fucking call me that,” you snapped at her, standing up and glaring at her. Your childhood nickname rang through your ears. A term of endearment given to you by your oldest sister now grated on your heart, shredding through each chamber. “I do not need to do anything,” you told her, narrowing your gaze.
Tears pricked your eyes, Please, JJ, just give me time to think. I just need a minute. Not everything has to be solved right away.
You were too proud to say the words aloud, but you thought it. You wanted to beg her for time. You wanted to plead with your sister for just a little bit of time to think things through.
She held her hands up in surrender, “I needed to tell Pinkner something that would satisfy him. You know the profile; you know what would’ve happened if I didn’t.”
Yes, and the image of both of them being held at gunpoint would haunt you for years to come, but that still didn’t justify any of it, not to you. Finishing off your drink, you set the crystal glass on the cobblestone bench and faced your sister, “Jennifer,” you said sharply, “Truth or dare?”
Her blue eyes widened as she looked between you and Spencer, who was wisely keeping his mouth shut, “Truth,” she answered, her voice so quiet you could barely hear it.
“Did you mean it?” You asked, the first of your tears finally flooding over your lash line.
You gripped the fabric of your dress in your hands as you waited for her answer, “Yes,” she told you.
Covering your face with your hands, you sighed deeply into them, “Fuck,” you cried. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you echoed. None of this made sense to you, JJ was married. JJ and Will were the kind of couple that you could look at and you would know that they belonged together, but now she was saying she had been in love with Spencer this whole time.
White hot tears stung the cold skin on your cheeks as you looked back up at your sister, waiting for her to say something else. “We went on an almost date years ago and nothing else ever came of it. Life just went on moving and we…” Her voice trailed off, either unable to finish her thought or unwilling to share.
“You’re married, JJ,” you said desperately, looking at her and wondering if she had told Will where she was going. “Does Will know? Did you tell him you’ve been stringing him along? Thirteen years in and two kids later?”
She faltered for a moment, and you knew you had hit your mark – it made you sick to your stomach. “No, I love him. I love my boys, you know that.”
You nodded numbly, “Yeah, I do, but I can’t keep going if you’re always going to be longing for what might’ve been.”
“You’re drunk and you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she accused, tapping her right foot anxiously.
JJ might’ve grown up in Roslyn’s shadow, but you grew up in hers. Captain of the varsity soccer team, full-ride athletic scholarship at Pitt, and grad school at Georgetown. All leading up to her joining the bureau at twenty-three. You followed her, believing anywhere was better than Pennsylvania, and this is what it had gotten you. It was exhausting, being the one pushing the boulder up the hill, your hands were scraped, and she couldn’t see it.
Deftly, you wiped at the tears beneath your eyes, “I know exactly what I’m saying. Please, can you try and just look at this from my point of view? My big sister, who I’ve looked up to for my whole life, confessed her feelings for my boyfriend. My boyfriend who she set me up with.” Realization dawned on you, turning to face Spencer, “You were in love with her, and… I’m…” your voice trailed off.
Matching your train of thought, Spencer shook his head, reaching a hand out for yours, but you pulled away from him, “No, honey, please. It’s not like that.”
“You couldn’t have her, and I’m just the next best thing,” you told him miserably. “She met Will and got pregnant and got married and you were so in love with her that you took the off-brand version just to have something.”
Spencer shushed you, watching as tears fell from your cheeks, “I’m with you because I love you, not because of anything else.”
Your chest ached, it felt like someone had thrust their hand in the cavity and was squeezing as tightly as they could. You wanted to believe him. You so, so badly wanted to believe him. “Tell me,” you prompted, “tell me I’m not your second choice.”
“You are not my second choice,” he told you, and you watched. You watched for his tells, any sign at all that he was lying.
You shook your head at him, “Why did you lie to me? About the football game,” you asked him, a semi-permanent frown staying on your face.
He furrowed his brows and stood up in front of you, rubbing your arms up and down to keep you warm, “I didn’t lie to you.”
“You didn’t tell me. Neither of you did. That’s lying by omission, and you both know it,” you said, stepping away from him hesitantly. You didn’t know what to trust; you didn’t know what was real.
Spencer looked back at your sister, but she looked frozen, “It wasn’t a date,” he said simply. “I… I intended for it to be a date, but JJ invited Penelope and that was the end of it. I took it as her not being interested and that’s the truth. Nothing else ever happened between the two of us.”
You watched your sister, her mouth opening and closing as she scrounged for the right thing to say. “I said what I had to in order to survive,” she defended.
Sucking on your back molars, you shrugged helplessly in response, “I know,” you admitted. “I know that you probably planned on taking your truth to the grave with you, but… it’s out, Jayg.”
“I can explain everything to you,” she offered, “Please let me explain, Ducky.”
The desperation in her voice chiseled at your resolve, but it wasn’t enough. “I don’t have it in me,” you admitted. “I’m fresh out of fight and I just wanna go home,” you told her, looking at Spencer who nodded, heading back inside to gather your things.
You sat back down on the bench, propping your chin up on your hand.
“I couldn’t think of anything else to say,” she tried again, her voice gruff from holding back tears.
Shaking your head, you closed your eyes and breathed in the cold winter air, “I don’t really care, JJ. You said it, I heard it, and now you have to deal with it.”
She cleared her throat, “I would deal with it now, but you’re being petulant.”
Looking up at her, you frowned, “I told you inside that I didn’t want to talk about this here. You came outside. You sought me out to talk. Now you’re mad that I’m not being nice about it?” Something new bubbled in your stomach, the pit that had been forming there quickly evolved into anger.
“I was trying to save lives,” she tried again, insisting she was right.
You could live with her being right on that front. She was saving lives, and she needed a truth potent enough to sway the UnSub, but in all of her explanations, she never once apologized about this curveball. “I live with Spencer. I… when I give gifts, they’re signed from the both of us,” you told her. “Sometimes when we can’t sleep at night, we come up with baby names, and you’re in love with him. I asked for time, and you couldn’t give it to me. So, this is what you get.”
With Spencer reappearing at the door, you made your way out of the courtyard, he draped your coat over your shoulders, and you wrapped the wool around yourself as you made your way out. “I told Rossi and Krystall that you were tired, but I think they might have taken it as you had too much to drink,” he explained, opening the passenger side door for the car for you to get in.
A small smile tugged at your throat, “I don’t really care.” Maybe if you had gotten that drunk, your chest wouldn’t hurt so much.
The rest of the ride home was silent, small flurries started floating from the sky, and you watched the way they danced in the streetlights. Once you were home, you got ready for bed, grabbing a pillow off of your bed, and turning to the door, “Where are you going?” Spencer asked, returning from brushing his teeth.
“I’m gonna sleep on the couch,” you told him softly, looking at the pillow that you were clutching in your arms.
He faltered for a moment, obviously taken aback by your decision, “Can we talk tomorrow?”
You frowned, letting your eyes lift to his, when it was dark, his eyes took on a certain kind of melancholia. It hurt to look at tonight. “Sure,” you offered weakly, turning around and heading for the couch.
“Are we gonna be okay?” He asked, fear creeping into his voice. Fear of losing you.
Glancing back at him as you lobbed the pillow on the couch, you gave him a gentle smile, “Yeah, Spence, we’ll figure it out. Just not tonight, okay?”
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds angst#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#jennifer jareau#jareau!reader#written by margot#ffofa
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