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cumironi · 8 months ago

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A BRAT IS ALL I WANT ！

TOJI FUSHIGURO has a breeding kink, and you’ll be damned if you give into it! but in reality, he just wants to start a family with you.

warning. husband! toji fushiguro, breeding kink, ōral ( m! receiving ), fingering, nipple-playing, dirty talk, pet names, name-calling.

wc. 4,5k | in this megumi wasn't born yet.

sure, you loved being toji fushiguro's wife. however, he sure knows how to get your nerves screaming. your birth control switched out for ibuprofen, holes in condoms, fucking you raw in your sleep even!

“c’mon baby.. i want a brat…”

toji drawls, so sexy and arrogant. you absolutely fume, straddling his lap as he gives you that big, scarred, smile. he has a breeding kink, and you’ll be damned if you give into it!

“let me fuck you raw again, baby…”

you glare at him defiantly, hands on your hips as you straddle his lap. “absolutely not, toji! we've been over this. i'm not ready for a kid right now.”

he just grins up at you cockily, large hands gripping your waist. “aw c'mon babe, don't be like that. you know you love feeling my cum flood your tight little pussy.” is thumbs rub circles on your lower belly. “and i know you'll look so damn hot all round and glowing with my baby growing inside you."

you scowl and try to wriggle off his lap but he holds you firmly in place, erection pressing insistently against your ass. “unhand me, you brute!” you demand haughtily, “i won't be bred against my will!”

his eyes gleam with mischief and lust, hands tightening around your waist as he chuckles deeply. “oh, but darling... i think you're enjoying this way more than you let on,” he teases, nipping lightly at your earlobe.

his fingers trail down towards your thighs, deftly slipping under the hem of your skirt to tease along your inner thigh. “besides, who said anything about doing it against your will? i just wanna see those pretty tits swell up with milk and feel our son kicking inside ya...”

with a swift movement, he flips you onto your back on the couch before you can react, pinning you beneath his heavy frame. his breath is warm against your neck as he whispers huskily, “now why don't we make ourselves comfortable while we discuss this further?”

“you're such an infuriating man!” you huff indignantly, squirming underneath him despite yourself. “fine then, if i have to do this, you better make it worth my while!”

your hands reach up to claw at his chest, nails digging into the hard muscle there as you push against him. the firmness of his body pressed against yours sends shivers through your spine. “show me what else you can do besides getting me pregnant...”

he smirks down at you, clearly pleased with your response. “is that so?” he murmurs seductively, trailing kisses along your jawline until he reaches your lips.

his tongue slips past them in a dominant sweep that leaves no room for argument. one hand moves from your hip to cup one of your breasts over the fabric of your shirt, thumb rubbing over the hardened nipple through the material.

“you've got quite the mouth on you when you're angry,” he growls approvingly before pulling away slightly to admire his handiwork— the flush spreading across your cheeks and chest. “but don’t worry baby... i plan on showing you plenty tonight.”

your breath catches in your throat as he continues his assault on your senses. you arch up into his touch, nipples pebbling harder against the palm of his hand.

“arrogant bastard...” you gasp out between moans, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity despite the heat pooling between your legs.

but it’s futile— every brush of his skin against yours sets fire to your veins and makes your heart race faster. the sight of him looming above you like this, so powerful yet so gentle at times... it drives you wild.

“just remember this next time you decide to play doctor without consent,” you manage to say through gritted teeth before biting down on your lip hard enough to taste blood. he chuckles darkly at your words, but doesn't stop what he's doing. instead, his other hand slides down from your waist to grip your thigh tightly.

“oh, i'll remember alright,” he promises huskily before leaning down to capture another kiss from you.

his free hand slips beneath your shirt to find bare skin, tracing up along your ribcage until he reaches your breast once more. this time though, there's no barrier between them— only soft flesh meeting rough fingertips.

“feel good?” he asks teasingly as he rolls your nipple between two fingers causing sparks to shoot straight down to your core. the sensation of his touch on your bare skin sends shockwaves through you. a low whimper escapes from deep within your throat as he teases your sensitive nipple.

“too good,” you admit breathlessly, tilting your head back against the cushioned couch back. your hips instinctively buck upwards seeking friction against nothing but air. the need for something— anything— to fill that empty ache gnawing at you becomes almost unbearable.

“just because i say yes doesn't mean you get to take advantage of me,” you pant out weakly, trying desperately to keep hold of whatever shred of control left over. but with each stroke of his fingers over your heated flesh, it feels less like a warning and more like an invitation into pleasureland.

a wicked grin spreads across his face at your words. “take advantage? me?” he questions mockingly, though there's a glint of amusement in his eyes.

slowly, deliberately, he starts to slide downwards— kissing and licking a path along your collarbone before dipping lower still until he reaches the swell of your breasts. “i think we both know who's really in charge here,” he rumbles against your skin, hot breath ghosting over one hardened peak, “and it ain't you.”

without warning, he takes the sensitive bud into his mouth and sucks hard— tongue swirling around it torturously slow while his hand continues its ministrations on the other side.

a sharp cry tears itself from your lips as waves of pleasure crash over you. his mouth on your breast feels incredible; too much so for comfort. your fingers tangle into his hair, holding him close against you. despite everything you’ve been saying, it’s clear that you’re losing ground fast.

“don't stop...” you breathe out heavily, unable to deny him anymore.

even though part of you knows this isn't fair— that he's manipulating things to get exactly what he wants— another part relishes in being taken care of like this. and god help you, but it feels amazing.

“oh, fuck! just please...”

he hums in approval against your breast, the vibration sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. “that's it, sweetheart,” he coaxes, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before moving to lavish attention on its twin. “just let go and enjoy it. you know you love when i take charge.”

his hands roam your body possessively, palming your curves and squeezing roughly enough to leave marks. when he finally pulls back to gaze down at you, his expression is pure sin— dark eyes blazing with hunger and dominance.

“now, where were we?” he muses, voice dripping with promise as he starts to unbutton his shirt— revealing chiseled abs and a scattering of scars. “why don't you show me just how grateful you are for my attention?” he suggests, fingers already working to undo his belt buckle.

the sight of him undressing, even partially, sends a surge of arousal coursing through your veins. your breath hitches in anticipation as he leans closer again. “like this?” you ask, reaching out to trace a finger down his chest, feeling the ridges of muscles ripple beneath your touch.

your hand dips lower, brushing against the bulge straining against his pants. a smirk curls your lips at the feel of him throbbing beneath your fingertips. “or maybe like this?” you whisper suggestively, giving his hardness a firm squeeze through the fabric. his bulge feels heavy on your palm.

he lets out a low groan at your touch, hips jerking forward involuntarily as you fondle him through his pants. “that's it, baby,” he encourages, his own hands coming up to cup your breasts again, kneading them roughly. “get me nice and hard for you.”

with a swift motion, he frees himself from his trousers, allowing his thick cock to spring forth. it stands proud and erect, the tip glistening with pre-cum. “now why don't you put that clever mouth of yours to good use?” he commands, stroking himself slowly as he watches you with hungry eyes.

“lick it clean first, then take me deep inside that sweet little throat of yours. show me how much you want to be bred by me, my love.” the sight of his impressive erection makes your mouth water. with shaky hands, you reach out to wrap your fingers around his shaft. he's warm and solid in your grasp— a tangible proof of his arousal. you can't resist leaning in to lap at the precum beading at the tip, savoring the salty-sweet flavor.

leaning forward, you press a lingering kiss onto the head of his cock before taking it into your mouth. the salty-sweet flavor explodes on your tongue as you start to suck gently. “mmm, tastes good,” you murmur appreciatively before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock and sucking gently.

as you begin to bob your head, taking him deeper into your warm, wet mouth with each pass, you feel yourself getting lost in the sensation. his musky scent fills your nostrils, and the weight of him on your tongue is intoxicating.

you hollow your cheeks and suck harder, determined to please him. your hand comes up to fondle his heavy balls, rolling them in your palm as you work his shaft with increasing enthusiasm.

you bob your head back and forth, taking as much of him as possible into your warm cavernous space. each stroke sends tremors rippling through your body making it difficult to concentrate on anything else besides pleasing him right now.

a low, guttural moan escapes his lips as you take him deeper, the sound vibrating through you as you suck. his fingers tangle in your hair, guiding your movements.

“fucking hell, just like that,” he growls, thrusting shallowly into your mouth as you work him over, “such a good little cocksucker, aren't you?”

he rocks his hips in time with your bobbing head, fucking your face with increasing urgency. the sight of your lips stretched tight around his girth, the way your cheeks hollow with each suck, is almost too much to bear. “you're going to make me cum so hard down your throat if you keep this up,” he warns, voice strained with pleasure. “ready to swallow every drop like a good girl?” his pace quickens, driving himself deeper with each thrust.

your nose presses against his pubic bone as he hits the back of your throat, the pressure building with each thrust. tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the intensity, but you don't dare pull away.

“mmph!” you gag slightly as he bottoms out, but quickly recover, relaxing your throat to take him even deeper. the vibrations of your muffled moans add to the sensations as you continue to suck and lick at his shaft.

your free hand slides up his abdomen to tease his nipples, pinching and rolling them between your fingers as you service him. the dual stimulation of your mouth and hands pushes you closer to the edge, your own arousal building rapidly.

you look up at him through tear-filled eyes, watching his face contort in pleasure as you work him over. his hips buck wildly, driven by instinct alone as you manage to take him impossibly deep. the sight of those full lips wrapped tightly around his cock, trembling from effort and pleasure— it's all too much.

“oh fuck, right there...” he grunts out, eyes locked onto yours, “that's it, swallow every inch.”

with a final powerful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt in your throat. he holds there for a moment longer than necessary, letting you adjust before beginning to move again.

“gonna fill you up soon,” he whispers hoarsely, his control slipping as ecstasy floods through him. his strokes become erratic as he teeters on the brink of release.

“just... just a bit more, my l-love...”

the feeling of him pulsing against your tongue is exquisite, his impending climax evident in the way his cock throbs and twitches in your mouth. you double your efforts, sucking harder and faster as you sense his orgasm approaching.

your throat constricts around him rhythmically as you swallow, milking his shaft for all it's worth. drool escapes from the corners of your stretched lips, dripping down your chin and onto your heaving breasts.

you can feel your own arousal building to a fever pitch, your core clenching around nothing as you imagine him filling you up with his seed. the thought alone nearly pushes you over the edge. but you hold off, determined to make him come first. you want to taste his essence, to feel him pulse and twitch in your mouth as he finds his release.

with a guttural groan, he slams home one last time, holding you in place as his cock erupts in your mouth. thick ropes of hot cum coat your tongue, flooding your senses with the intense flavor of his release.

“fuuuckkk!” he bellows, eyes rolling back in bliss as he rides out his orgasm. his grip on your hair tightens, not painful but insistent, keeping you still as he empties himself into your eager mouth. wave after wave of his seed pulses across your taste buds, each spurt a testament to his pleasure. finally, with a shuddering gasp, he stills, his cock softening slightly within the confines of your lips.

“swallow it all, baby,” he orders, voice husky with satisfaction, “every last drop belongs to you now.”

you eagerly swallow every last drop of his cum, savoring the taste as it coats your tongue and slips down your throat. his seed is potent and rich, leaving an unmistakable warmth spreading throughout your belly.

reluctantly releasing him from your mouth, you sit back on your heels, panting heavily. your lips are swollen and bruised from their vigorous use, a satisfied smile curving them despite the discomfort.

you reach up to wipe away some of the drool trickling down your chin, smearing it over your cleavage instead. looking up at him through half-lidded eyes filled with lust and satisfaction, “did i do okay?”

he looks down at you, chest heaving with each breath as he fights to regain his composure. a satisfied smirk plays on his lips as he takes in the sight of you, flushed and disheveled.

“you always did, baby,” he replies, voice rough with residual pleasure, “best damn blowjob i've ever had.” he reaches out to run a finger along your jawline, tracing the path of a single tear that has managed to escape. his touch is surprisingly gentle given the intensity of what just transpired.

“but we're not done yet,“ he adds with a predatory gleam in his eye, “it's my turn to breed you now.” without waiting for further response, he pulls you towards him until you're straddling his lap once more. his cock is already starting to stir again, eager for another round. you wrap your arms around him, smiling so beautifully just like how you are, his sweet, sweet little wife.

feeling your arms encircle him, toji lets out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling through his chest. his hands roam over your body, taking delight in the softness of your skin beneath his calloused palms.

“i'm glad you're mine,” he murmurs into your ear, nipping gently at the lobe, “i plan on making you feel very well taken care of.” his hands slide lower, pulling your hips flush against his growing erection. the sensation makes him groan in anticipation.

“so let's get started, shall we?”

you giggle softly, leaning in to press your lips to his in a tender kiss. as you pull back, you whisper, “i love being yours, toji. show me how much.” emboldened by your words, you begin to grind against him, your slick heat coating his length through the fabric of your underwear. the friction sends sparks of pleasure coursing through you, stoking the flames of desire even higher.

he captures your lips again in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep to claim every inch of your mouth. when you break apart, panting, he grips your hips firmly and begins to rock you against him, the motion deliberate and slow.

“that's it, ride my cock,” he commands, voice thick with need, “let me feel that sweet pussy of yours rubbing against me.” his hands slide under your shirt, palming your breasts roughly as he continues to grind you against his hardness. the sensation is maddening, each pass sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

“fuck, you're soaked,” he growls, breaking the kiss to trail biting kisses down your neck, “can't wait to bury myself inside you and fill you up.”

you moan loudly, the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your clit driving you wild. you arch your back, pushing your breasts further into his grasp as he tweaks and rolls your sensitive nipples. you can hardly stand it anymore; the need to have him inside you is overwhelming. you start to move faster against him, desperate for more contact.

“oh god, toji,” you whimper, looking into his eyes, “please, i need you... need you to fuck me.”

hearing your plea, toji's restraint snaps. with a swift movement, he stands up, carrying you effortlessly in his arms. he strides towards the bed, laying you down upon it with surprising gentleness considering the urgency of his actions.

“you'll get exactly what you ask for,” he promises, yanking down your panties with a rough tug. his gaze falls upon your glistening folds, wet and ready for him.

positioning himself between your thighs, he lines up his throbbing member at your entrance. without another word, he plunges deep inside you, stretching and filling you completely. “fucking perfect,” he grunts out, beginning to set a punishing pace. each thrust drives him deeper, hitting spots within you that make stars burst behind your eyelids.

a loud cry tears itself from your throat as he fills you entirely, stretching your walls deliciously. the sensation is overwhelming, causing your entire body to shake.

“oh, t-toji, baby..” you plead desperately, wrapping your legs around his waist to draw him even deeper if possible. every stroke hits just right, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails scratching lightly over his skin as you cling to him for support. you can't help but buck up to meet each of his powerful thrusts, desperate to take everything he offers.

he growls in approval, loving the way you claw at him as he pounds into your willing body. the sound of your cries and the sight of your breasts bouncing with each forceful thrust only spur him on.

“look at me,” he demands, his voice thick with lust, “want to see those pretty eyes when i breed you.” his hands grip your hips tightly, anchoring you to him while he drives into you mercilessly. the slap of flesh echoes around the room, punctuating the symphony of moans and groans.

as he watches your face contort with pleasure, toji leans down to capture a nipple between his teeth, nibbling harshly before soothing it with a flick of his tongue. you obey instantly, meeting his gaze with wide, lust-filled eyes. the combination of his commanding presence and the raw pleasure he's giving you leaves you breathless.

“oh fuck, toji...” your voice trails off into a series of broken whimpers as he teases your nipple. the dual sensations of his cock pounding into you and his teeth grazing your sensitive bud send shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your veins.

your inner walls clench around him involuntarily, trying to milk him for all he's worth. but it's clear that you're far from finished; there's still so much more you want from this dominant man.

feeling your walls flutter around him, toji can't hold back a satisfied grunt. he releases your breast with a pop, watching as a bead of blood appears where he'd been sucking. “good girl,” he praises, slapping your thigh lightly for emphasis, “keep coming for me.”

with renewed vigor, he starts slamming into you harder than before. each thrust goes deeper than the last, aimed directly at that spot inside you that makes stars dance across your vision. the bed creaks under their combined weight as he picks up speed, driven by pure instinct and carnal desire.

the sharp sting of pain from his bite quickly gives way to intense pleasure as he pounds into you relentlessly. your body bows off the mattress with each brutal thrust, helpless to resist the onslaught of sensation.

“o-oh god, oh god!“ you whimpering, your voice hoarse from crying out in ecstasy. your mind blanks, consumed solely by the primal urge to be filled, claimed, bred. you lock your ankles behind his back, using every ounce of strength to pull him impossibly deeper. your hips rise to meet his, creating a frenzied rhythm that threatens to shatter you completely.

the feeling of you wrapping yourself around him, urging him on, pushes roji closer to the edge. he feels your body tensing beneath him, signaling that you’re nearing your climax. “that's it,” he encourages through gritted teeth, “come for me, show me how much you love being fucked by your husband.”

his thrusts become erratic as he chases his own release. the thought of filling you with his seed fuels his arousal further. “going to breed you so good,” he vows before capturing your lips once more in a bruising kiss. the intensity of his words coupled with the relentless pace of his thrusts sends you spiraling into oblivion. a scream rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave.

“i'm cumming!“ you cry out, your body convulsing around his cock as waves of pleasure rip through you. your juices coat his shaft, slickening the path for him to find his own release. your inner muscles clench and unclench rhythmically, milking him for all he’s worth. you can barely form coherent thoughts; all that remains is raw, animalistic pleasure.

feeling your pussy spasm around him triggers toji's own climax. with a guttural roar, he buries himself to the hilt and unleashes a torrent of hot semen deep inside you. “take it all, my wife,” he growls, his hips jerking erratically as he pumps you full of his essence. the sensation of his cum flooding your womb sends shivers down his spine.”

as the final pulses of his orgasm subside, toji collapses onto you, his heavy chest heaving against your own. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, marking you with gentle bites and whispers of praise. panting heavily, you bask in the afterglow of your intense coupling. feeling toji's warm seed fill you to the brim brings a sense of satisfaction and completion.

“handsome,” you murmur contentedly, running your fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. embracing the intimacy of the moment, you wrap your arms around him, holding him close as he recovers. your bodies remain joined, the evidence of his claim still dripping from your entwined forms.

toji hums in pleasure at your touch, nuzzling deeper into your embrace. he presses a soft kiss to your pulse point, savoring the taste of your skin.

“mmm, you're beautiful too, the most beautiful,” he murmurs, slowly rolling you to your sides. even in this position, he remains buried inside you, his softening cock still nestled in your warmth. gently, he begins to rock against you, stirring the mix of his cum and your juices within your shared depths. he action sends pleasant tingles through both of you, prolonging the intimate connection.

“this was perfect,” he says, his voice low and satisfied, “just what we both needed.”

your body responds eagerly to his movements, each subtle shift reigniting the embers of pleasure within you. you let out a blissful sigh, enjoying the lazy rhythm you've fallen into. “it was...more than perfect,” you agree, a smile curving your lips despite the exhaustion settling in. the tender affection mixed with the lingering heat of your lovemaking leaves you feeling cherished and utterly fulfilled.

as the minutes stretch on, you find yourself reluctant to break away from this sweet, languid closeness. it's moments like these that make you realize just how deeply you adore your husband— in every way imaginable.

toji gazes at you adoringly, taking in the blissful expression on your face. he reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his touch feather-light and reverent.

“i love seeing you like this,” he confesses softly, “satisfied and happy in my arms.” he pauses, his expression turning thoughtful. “i think it's time we started planning our family, don't you? we could have a few more little ones running around, keeping us busy and on our toes.”

the suggestion is made with a playful glint in his eye, but there's an underlying seriousness to his words. toji wants to build a life filled with love, passion, and children— and he intends to start that process soon. at the mention of starting a family, your heart swells with joy. the idea of carrying another child conceived in such passionate, loving circumstances fills you with excitement.

“you know i've always wanted that,” you reply, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips, “a house full of laughter and love...and maybe some mischief too, maybe later,”

the prospect of growing their family together stirs something deep within you. not just physical attraction, but emotional commitment— a bond forged not only between lovers but also parents-to-be. “but for now,” you continue, tracing idle patterns on his chest, “let's just enjoy this moment. our private paradise.”

hearing your agreement, toji smirks, his eyes sparkling with delight. he captures your wandering hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss.

“a private paradise sounds ideal,” he agrees, nipping gently at your fingertips, “but i suppose we should get moving eventually.” despite his words, there's no urgency in his tone. Instead, he seems content to simply stay here with you— lost in each other's company until reality comes knocking.

“but first,” he adds, pulling you closer until your breasts press against his chest, “i need to make sure you're thoroughly satisfied.”

a soft chuckle escapes your lips at his declaration. the idea of being thoroughly satisfied by your husband is quite appealing indeed. “oh, i think i am,” you purr, rubbing your thighs together to alleviate the residual ache left by their earlier activities, “but if you insist...“

you arch your back slightly, pressing even harder against him. the sensation of his semi-hard member still nestled inside you sends delightful sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. “just one more round?” you tease, batting your eyelashes playfully.

toji's smirk widens at your teasing words, his dark eyes gleaming with lustful intent. he rolls you onto your back, positioning himself above you with a predatory grace.

“one more round it is then,” he declares, beginning to move again, leaning closer to kiss your forehead. his renewed thrusts are slow and deliberate, designed to draw out every last drop of pleasure from both of you.

each stroke sends jolts of pleasure radiating throughout your body. the combination of his weight pressing down on you and the steady rhythm of his hips driving into yours creates an intoxicating blend of sensations.

“and when we're done,” he promises huskily, “we'll start planning our future...together.”

#toji smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji fushigro x reader #anime smut

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specsthesecond · 2 months ago

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🃏👑🃏

You were married off to the king as a young noble woman. The arrangement was rather rushed in your opinion, not that anyone asked for it. The king only needed a show queen, a quiet but present symbol for the kingdom and you suited well enough for that.

He didn’t need a wife for pleasure, he had plenty mistresses for that and he seemed to be in no rush for a successor. You suspected it was because he had no intent to hand over power to anyone else anytime soon. Although, that's just what you assumed, others never blamed him for it. You were always the target of the hushed whispers and silent accusations of infertility, unruliness or even infidelity when it came to the subject of an heir.

The people's gossip aside, it was an easy marriage. You didn’t have to share a bed with a man you didn’t love and you didn’t have to raise his children. Many more deserving women would kill for such a life, which only made you feel worse about the utter discontent you felt. It was the loneliness, mostly. Such a privileged life and yet not a single companion in the world to share it with.

The king and his advisers only speak to you when they need you to make an appearance as queen. Their orders always dripping with condescension and near mockery. They’ve made you smile and wave for hours, waltz until your feet blister and recite a holy text’s worth of pompous poetry, but this most recent ploy was particularly concerning.

You sit on your throne next to your husband, hands in your lap, staring at the colourful figure in front of you. The bells on his ridiculous hat jingle as he bows his head so low they almost touch the marble floor. Quiet chuckles emit from the nobility crowding the massive ballroom and the unease in your stomach only builds.

When the jester picks his head back up, you can’t help fiddling even more with your dress, just like your husband's advisers have scolded you not to. The jester silently stares with his sheet white face, big red grin painted across his mouth. You want to shrink under the jesters stare, the blue diamonds painted over his eyes make his gaze feel piercing.

The king grins when he catches your nervous gaze.

“Do you like your surprise, my love? I thought you could use some cheering up lately. As did my advisers.”

He chuckles, looking over at the old men in the corner of the room. They smile back, amusing in a joke you're not a part of.

You just nod your head as politely as possible. You don’t know what's happening, but whatever they have planned can’t be good.

The jester skips up to where you and the king sit. He gives an exaggerated curtsy to the king, earning a laugh from him and the various nobility.

The bells jingle as he springs back up and steps closer to you. He stretches his hand out, you stare at it and then back to your husband.

“The fool wants a dance, my dear. Give him a dance.”

You try to hide the apprehension on your face and reach for the jesters white glove-covered hand. He doesn’t squeeze or pull you up like you expected, instead he holds it gently, waiting for your next move. You rise from your throne and cast one more glance at your husband, who only offers a self-satisfied grin in return. This whole time all they've wanted from you is a perfect queen and now they want you to dance with a fool?

The jester walks you to the middle of the room, encircled by leering nobility. He places your hand on his waist before dramatically correcting the mistake and placing it on his shoulder instead, looking bashfully to the audience who snicker at the joke. He takes your other hand in his and gives you a little nod before the musicians starts playing and he guides you into step.

Now obviously you know very well how to dance, you enjoyed it quite a bit when you were little although, now it’s just become another part of your queenly duties. Did any of that even matter now? Now that it’s clear the king and his peers see you as just as much of a joke as the man you’re waltzing with.

Your deep thoughts are broken when said man unexpectedly twirls you in a dizzying circle. You flail slightly in your surprise but you’re brought back into his arms just as quickly to continue your steps. You fully focus on him now and you wonder what his features look like under that gaudy clown makeup. Even in the bright chandelier lights of the ball room, you can’t make out the colour of his irises. Earlier, you thought they were hazel but now it seems they're an impossibly dark brown.

The dark pools look as if they could swallow all the colour from his face and your own. Actually, has he blinked even once during this dance, or at all for that matter?

You’re not sure if it was your mistake or the jester’s but you step on his foot and he suddenly pulls away from you. He clutches his foot and jumps up and down in theatrical pain. The room bursts into laughter, bellows and cackles. These elite men and women delight in the humiliating performance you’re both putting on for them. It takes everything in you not to cave right there in the middle of it.

While the jeering continues, you try your best to steel yourself, replacing the need to cry with spiteful compliance. If they want a dance, they can have a dance.

You curtsy at the jester, offering an apology and hold your hand out to him. He looks around and then points to himself. You can’t help but smile and nod your head.

He takes your hand and when the music starts back up again, you step in time to the beautiful melody. You try and put your full attention on the jester, not anyone else in the large room, which proves to be quite easy as he is by far the most interesting person present. You can just make out the small smile under the red painted grin, his relaxed eyebrows under the bright blue diamonds, the crook of his pointy nose.

While moving in sync, you become almost lost in trying to map out his face under the make-up. You look for imperfections in the face paint but can’t seem to find a single smudge or brush streak, in fact the paint looks impressively even, like it’s a second skin.

It truly does feel like its only you two and the music, for the first time in a long time you feel wanted by someone else.

But when the king grows bored he demands new entertainment.

He motions for the musicians to stop their music and you’re brought back to reality. The jester bows for the crowd, he gestures to you and you offer a little curtsy before being escorted back to your throne. Form there, you watch the rest of the strange performers routine. He juggles an impressive amount of miscellaneous items, he folds himself into ridiculous positions, walks on his hands and generally makes a fool of himself for the crowd.

You watch in delight, though your husband doesn't seem as interested as he was before your little dance.

You think about the jester all the way back to your courters that night. You think about him as you slip on your night dress and slide into bed, and you think of him as you stare up at the ceiling for possibly hours. There is too much on your mind, the fun of watching the jesters performance has subsided and thoughts of what this means for your reputation and position in the court remain constant. A sigh leaves you as you lift yourself up and open the doors to your balcony.

You lean on the balcony ledge and stare out at the starry night sky, not even the strange jester can distract from the humiliation ritual you were just a part of. He could have been in on it for all you know and you're just naive enough to think he was being kind to you during the whole thing.

A shuffling sound from behind you makes you turn your head and it takes you just a split second to register the very colourful jester standing in the corner of your balcony.

The screech you let out is smothered by your own hand. You clutch the edge of the balcony, staring at the slender man who puts his hands up, waving apologies while moving his chest as if laughing, nothing comes out of his mouth. You clutch your heart, breathing quite heavily as you stare at him bewildered. You look around trying to discern where he could have come from, and how you only now hear his bells jingle as he waves his hands, still apologising.

He steps closer and stands tall in front of you, he’s much more imposing than you remember him being. He holds up one finger and then mimics a waltz. His head bows low and he holds his hand out for you to take. He’s asking for another dance but is there really much of a choice at all? Has this also been planned? If you say no, will he just leave? Do you want him to leave? The dance you shared was the most delightful time you've had in so, so long

You stare at him for a good while, he stays with his hand outstretched, bent over at a near 90 degree angle, not straining even a little. The longer you wait, the more uncomfortable you feel in his unwavering presence.

Against your better judgement, you reach out and touch his gloved hand. He curls his fingers around yours and stands upright. You let him bring your hand to his shoulder, place his hand on your waist and step closer. This time is different from the last time. Now it really does feel like his attention is only on you, not with the other guests, not with the performance. It should be frightening, but you find no malice in his eyes, no ridicule in his demeanor.

As he steps into motion, you begin a slow waltz in the small space of your balcony. It's slower than in the ballroom, it's more intimate. While you dance with this complete stranger, your thoughts run rampant, you second guess your judgement again and again. Maybe the kindness you sense from him is a ruse. Maybe he is here on behalf of the king, setting up another degrading show. He could even be an assassin, come to rid you quietly in the middle of the night.

You would deserve such a fate for giving in so easily. You slowly spin in his arms and this time you don't hear the snide laughs of the nobility, just the sounds of the night. Both of you step in time and you let him guide you to the edge of your balcony. You hold your breath as he dips you over the ledge. Your eyes squeeze shut and you let out what could be your last breath ready for him to let go and let you fall.

But he doesn't let go, your grip on his shoulders never slips. You open your eyes, a bit blurry from wetness but you can make out his face, because it's right in front of you even though you're bent over the balcony far enough that your feet have left the ground. You stare back at his unrelenting gaze. In the dim light of the moon his eyes look even darker than before and something new swims in the deep black of his pupils, something sad.

They are lidded as they examine your face, your entire being. His hand on your back presses your chest further into his until you're sure he can feel your rapid heartbeat through your very flesh.

He lifts you upright again, turning you away from the ledge and out of harms way. You’re still chest to chest, he’s so close but you can’t feel him breathe. Your wide eyes stare up at him, trying to discern his expression. Your breaths are short and your grip on him hasn’t let up a bit.

He brings his hands up to your cheeks, the warm fabric of his gloves on your cold cheeks has you easing into them far too easily. His eyes examine every inch of your face while his thumbs stroke your cheeks, you can just barely see the frown on his lips behind the painted smile. He brings your face closer to his, slow and methodical, making it very clear what his next move is. You’re not sure if this was due to his own hesitation or to give you time to pull away, regardless you let him inch closer and closer until his lips grazed yours and you finally feel him breathe out one long breath.

The kiss is deep. Despite being slow and gentle, it still forces a struggled breath from you. You would’ve thought he tasted like paint but he doesn’t, he’s warm and inviting. It’s nice.

Your eyes close, surrendering all hesitation to the stranger in your arms. Fingers dig into the fabric of his puffy striped sleeves as your body melts further into his. You quickly learn to breathe through your nose, out of necessity and unwillingness to part from his affections.

You let him work your mouth open, slipping his tongue inside. The feeling is so foreign, you can’t help but whine. The backs of his fingers flutter over your throat and you shiver.

His tongue fills your mouth, sliding along yours and savouring your taste. The wet muscle reaches far into your mouth, farther than you thought normal but your experience is slim and you don’t have the awareness to fully question it. It’s overwhelming. Your knees tremble and he lowers you both to the cold stone floor. His tongue reaches into your throat, a feat you know is impossible.

You’re too lost to even think of the implications of this, as you gag and convulse around the thick muscle in your throat that no longer feels like a normal tongue. He reaches so far, your eyes roll back, your lower region warms uncomfortably and you forget how to breathe. You tap his shoulders quickly, a plea for air, and he retreats from your throat. He holds you as you cough and heave, wiping the spit from your chin.

You look at him with the an expression full of shock and fear and bewilderment and every other emotion shooting through your fuzzy mind. His expression is hard to discern but he seems both amused and sad.

He stands and brings you up on shaky legs. When he starts to back away, you panic and clutch his hands tighter. You don’t know what you were hoping for. That he would stay? That he would spend the night with you?

His face is full of what you hope is longing and not pity, you know what pity looks like. He holds you close in what you know is a goodbye embrace. He presses his forehead to yours and he places one last short kiss on your lips. Its playfull and very much not what you’d consider a proper good bye kiss. You search his gaze and you’re met with rather boyish mirth, lifting your spirits slightly. Maybe this isn't goodbye then?

He winks at you and takes your hand, spinning you around once, twice and three times before he lets go. When you rebalance yourself and look around the balcony, there is no sight of the jester. It's just the pitying sounds of the night and your only other witness, the moon. Like he was never there at all.

#monster x reader #monster x human #monster fucker #monster lover #monster fucking #kinda rushed and bad but i needed to be done with this damn idea #Mysterious Eldritch (?) jester anyone?

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nochepsicodelica · 5 months ago

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You wake up from a nap that went on a little too long, only to see that Toji still isn't next to you in bed. It's dark already, and when you check the time on your phone, the screen reads 10:14. You see light underneath the bedroom door and get up, dragging the blanket along with you. When you open the door, there Toji is, sitting on the couch, watching TV with his hand in a bag of chips. You peek at him from the hallway entryway and watch as he puts another chip in his mouth.

"Hi," Toji says, not the slightest bit oblivious to your eyes on him. His gaze shifts to you and the big, puffy blanket you have draped around you. "How'd you sleep?"

You don't answer, but instead start making your way towards him, the blanket tailing behind you as it drags on the floor. Five more steps and you're right in front of him. Without a second thought, you're climbing onto his lap and making yourself comfortable. Your big blanket covers him, as well as his bag of chips, now, too.

"Still tired, mama?" Toji asks, when you bury your face in the crook of his neck. You grunt, affirmatively, in response, tightening your arms around him. "That's how you answer, now?" He asks, chuckling when you grunt, again. "I'm rubbing off on you. You sound like a bear."

"Why didn't you come sleep with me?" You ask, your voice quiet from being underused.

"I went into the room to check on you and you were knocked out. Even got some cute pictures of you drooling, and you still didn't wake up."

You whine, annoyed at this revelation. "Not cute at all. It's like you don't even love me," you mumble, turning your face away from him, your cheek now positioned on his shoulder.

"Love you enough to keep an album full of these pictures."

"What? Toji." You briefly turn your attention back to him.

"There's eighty in there. Well, eighty-three, with the ones I got today."

You sigh, dramatically, and rest your cheek on his shoulder, again. "I have nothing more to say to you. Goodnight."

You can hear the smirk on Toji's face when he says, "'Night."

In the short amount of time that you slept on Toji, he was witness to yet another one of your dreams. He's been around for plenty of them. Some were nightmares, others just random dreams that made you jolt awake with a jump scare. He's even been around for the good ones that cause breathy renditions of his name to spill from your lips. This one was just weird.

Toji felt you stirring and watched as you nuzzled into his shoulder. He listened in on your nonsensical thoughts and grinned, amusedly, at the randomness. You sounded worried as you mumbled things about your eyes and how you wanted to keep them, and then something else about changing your mind and not being ready. He had no time to wonder what you weren't ready for, because you woke up and you looked scared.

You sit up on Toji's lap and blink a few times as you look around. "Toji, do my... my eyes?" You question, not finding offense in the way Toji looks like he's trying not to laugh. You're still very much concerned about your eyes.

"What about your eyes, ma?" He asks, his gaze darting after yours as you keep looking around.

"Do my eyes still work?" You ask, still panicking on the inside.

"I don't know. Do they?" he says, only further adding on to your fear. There's a small crease between your eyebrows, making you look conflicted. Your expression goes sad when you look away from Toji.

"Ma, wake up," Toji says, pinching your cheek a few times, while wearing a teasing grin on his face. "Look, if you're actually scared, we can check." You really need that confirmation, so you give Toji your full attention. "What's this?" He asks, tapping the scar that strikes his lips.

"Your handsome, sexy, all you can eat, full course meal of a scar," you mumble.

Toji deadpans and tilts his head, furthering his unamused expression. "Your eyes are fine."

"Test me, again. Pleaaaase?" You beg, giving him a soft smile and puppy eyes.

He sighs and gives in, no fight put up against you, whatsoever. "What color are my eyes?"

You hum as you lean in to examine the subject more closely before coming to your conclusion. "The most handsome bobansome, beautiful, crispy green apple, shade of green."

Toji scoffs and shakes his head in disbelief. "See? Your eyes are fine. On that note, you're banned from sleeping on me."

You gasp, dramatically, as if he offended you. "Aren't you the one always manhandling me so that i'm sleeping on top of you? And during our afternoon naps, you put my leg over your hip. And when I try to get up, you--"

"Okay, you're not banned. Jeez." You outsmarted him and it shows through the way he subtly clenches his jaw. "If you like sleeping on me that much, just say so."

You narrow your eyes at him, before pushing off of his chest in an attempt to get off of him.

"Whatcha doing?" He asks, holding your hips down so that you can't move.

"Going back to the room," you say, trying to peel his hands off of you, to no avail. "I would like to sleep on our bed, now, Toji."

"Then, tell me that and I'll take you. What are you doing pawing at my hands, trying to get them off of you?" He takes one look at the involuntary lift of your lips and already knows what's going on. "Oh..." he chuckles. "You a grumpy little bear, now?"

"Don't talk to me," you grumble, huffing childishly and turning your attention away from him.

"Aren't you the one always calling, saying you just wanted to hear my voice while i'm working? And you get goosebumps all over when I talk directly into your ear. And when I don't--"

"Stooop," you whine, leaning forward and burying your face in the crook of his neck, again. Your arms wrap around his neck and your thighs squeeze his waist. "You're not fair," you mumble, into his warm skin.

"Yeah, i'm so cruel to you, huh, baby?" He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek, a soft smile lingering on his lips when you hum out a little "mhm" in response. He moves his bag of chips aside and turns off the TV, before wrapping the blanket around you and tucking the excess away, so that he doesn't trip over it as he walks. With ease, he stands up from the couch and starts towards the bedroom, with his lump of a blanket clinging to him.

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julymusings · 6 months ago

Text

simplicity

out there they're afraid even of the killer's shadow, and here i reside in his heartbeat like a home

or; the big bad red hood has a soft spot only for you [3.4k]

jason todd x fem!reader; tiny bit of angst but mostly fluff; aggressive unwanted advances, implied roofie attempt, violence & blood, slut-shaming; Jason “my girl can wear whatever she wants I can fight” Todd; in da clerb, we all fam ⎯ based on this !

series masterlist

A humid, crowded, upscale club isn’t the most ideal way to spend your Friday night, and Jason knows this. Frankly, it’s not his either, but as the owner of the humid, crowded, upscale club, he had to make some appearances at his own business.

“It’s a night out,” he had said. “Let’s make the most of it.”

If you’re being honest, it’s also not the worst way to spend your Friday night. Not when Jason dressed up so deliciously, in a fitted t-shirt, jeans, and his leather jacket. Not when he took you to a booth in the corner of the club and had them bring over your favorite drinks and snacks with the order to keep them coming. Not when you got to wear that cute little black dress that’s been hanging in your closet for months with your favorite strappy heels, the ones with ribbons that wrapped around your ankle and tied into a bow in the back. Not when Jason sat you on his lap and settled a large hand on your thigh, where it stayed the whole night.

All in all, you would say you’re making the most of it.

You’re sipping on your drink, chatting about something or the other with your boyfriend. He’s half listening, half drawing circles on your thigh and pressing kisses to your shoulder when one of the employees finds you. She’s freaking out because one of the performers hasn’t shown up, and there’s no one else to go in her place.

Jason huffs. He lifts you off his lap and sets you down on the seat. “I’m sorry, baby, I just gotta take care of this. I’ll be right back.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be here.” You smile over the rim of your glass.

He looks around for a moment, then gestures to someone across the room. One of the bouncers make their way to you.

“Just keep an eye out,” he tells him. “I don’t trust these entitled country club fuckers.”

He gives a curt nod. Jason leans in close, smirking, and says, “Especially not when you look like that,” and gives you a quick kiss before disappearing into the crowd with the employee.

A couple minutes later, a crash snaps your attention towards the bar. A young, college-aged-looking man is berating a waitress while a mess of shot glasses litter the floor around them. The waitress looks about to cry.

“Jesus Christ,” the bouncer says to himself. Then to you, “Gimme a second.”

You move to the edge of the booth to watch as he goes over and tries to pacify the man, but that only seems to make him angrier. He shoves the bouncer, yelling about “shitty customer service.”

You don’t get to see what happens next, though, because your field of vision is obscured by an enormous, very shiny, and very douchey silver belt buckle. You look up for its owner, and a greasy-looking, white-haired man looks down at you.

“Hey there, sweetheart.” A fake gold tooth catches the flashing lights and it glints in your eye. Uninvited, he slides into the booth across from you. He places a drink on the table, sliding it towards you. “You look thirsty. Got this for you.”

“No, thanks. I’ve got one.” You hold your own glass up.

He rolls his eyes. “Pretty thing like you should be takin’ advantage of all the free drinks you could be gettin’.” His smile sends a chill down your spine.

“Again, I’m fine,” you say, a little harsher. “My boyfriend has brought me plenty of drinks already.”

He laughs. It’s a high-pitched, scratchy, wheezing sound. Like a kazoo. “I don’t see this boyfriend of yours anywhere. He should know better than to leave you alone. I’d treat you much better than him.” His eyes travel down your neck and stay there. You stand from the booth and take a big step back. It’s not entirely personal; no matter how much of a threat he may be, Jason is a worse one. And if he’s still in this neighborhood, never mind this building, you fear for this man’s safety much more than your own. But the man follows, bringing the cup with him. “Come on, honey, it’s a compliment. Show a little thanks. I don’t bite.”

You don’t have to be the world’s finest detective to know that is most definitely a lie. Or to know to avoid that cup at all costs.

You could just rebuff him, walk away. But you’re willing to bet he’d just move on to the next woman. One who’s probably a little less sober, and a little less aware of her surroundings. You feign a stumble and knock the drink out of his grip. It tips toward him, drenching him with its contents. He chokes out a shocked gasp.

“Oops,” you deadpan, not at all trying to hide your indifference.

“You bitch,” he snarls. He lunges forward, snatching your wrist. You try to pull it back, but his grip is iron and bruising. “I was doing you a favor. Do you see anyone else here looking at you?”

You’re suddenly grateful you didn’t put up much of a fight after Jason came home from patrolling one night insisting he show you some self-defense moves. Far be it from you to cause a scene, but this guy isn’t giving you much choice. You employ the cardinal rule of women’s self-defense: go for the crotch. You shift your weight to your non-dominant side and launch your dominant knee right into his groin. The sharp metal edge of his belt buckle slices the skin just above your knee, but it shocks him enough to release your wrist and double over. The same leg used in your attack plants itself on the ground, and you use the momentum to pistol your opposite fist forward. It collides with his nose in a bone-cracking cross. Your stacks of studded rings didn’t do him any favors, either. He cries out in pain. His hands fly up to cover his nose, and the cup falls from his grasp and shatters on the floor, garnering the attention of some surrounding patrons. Blood seeps between his fingers.

“You’re gonna fucking pay for that.” His tone drips with poison. He reaches into his coat pocket and brandishes a switchblade (because of course. You’re not surprised, though. It is Gotham). You look around in a panic, hoping to find Jason towering somewhere over the crowd. He’s not there. A few guys who work for him, though, have since taken notice of the commotion and are making their way towards you. You know they won’t make it in time. You weren’t scared a moment ago, but you definitely are now. Jason only briefly covered disarming techniques, and you didn’t have his practice to stay calm in situations like these. He steps closer, shoes crunching over the glass shards, and you step back. You’re backed into a corner, literally. Your back is pressed against the table. His eyes are glassy and void of color.

There is a resounding pop when the man’s knife-wielding hand is yanked to the side. Too fast for your brain to register, he thuds against the table next to you and the knife clatters to the ground. You look over and see Jason, one hand pressing his face into the table and the other twisting the man’s arm behind his back.

When his men finally reach you, Jason is seething. They look almost as afraid as the man, whose whimpers are muffled by the pressure with which he’s flattened against the table.

“Who the fuck let this happen,” Jason glowers. Uncomfortable glances are shared between the men, all sharing the same sentiment; we fucked up big time.

Jason’s livid gaze flits back and forth among them. His veins flex against his forearms, rippling with effort. It looks like he’s putting all his strength into incapacitating the man, but you know better. He’s putting all his strength into restraint. The look on his face is cold and steely, with hardened, venom-green eyes and a clenched jaw. This isn’t Jason, the sweet boyfriend, or Jason the easy-going yet respected club proprietor. This is Jason the crime lord. Jason the anti-hero. This is the Red Hood. Who makes his own rules and kills anyone who breaks them. It’s a bit off-putting for you to see him like this; he’s never like this with you. He’s always just…Jason. Your Jason.

One of his men speaks up. “We’re sorry, Boss, we were keepin’ an eye like you asked, but there was trouble up at the bar.”

Jason scowls. “Trouble that required all of you?”

At their silence, he rolls his eyes. “Idiots,” he says under his breath. He jerks the man up to stand, the hand that was pressing him to the table now gripping the back of his shirt collar. “Someone take care of this.” He shoves the man in their direction. Hard. One of them catches him. “And for fuck’s sake, check him for anything else.”

While they’re busy patting him down, Jason turns back to you. You get whiplash from how quick his demeanor changes. Though still tense, the rigidity of his expression is long gone, replaced with tender concern.

“Are you okay?” His wide eyes scan you up and down, searching for any signs of injury. You manage a nod, still a bit stunned by his apparent shape-shifting abilities. “I’m so sorry, honey, this is my fault. It’s my fault for leaving you alone.” He pulls you close for a hug and kisses the top of your head, murmuring further apologies into your hair.

You pull back and cup his face in your hands. “It’s okay, Jay, I’m fine. I promise.” You lean in to kiss him and feel his shoulders relax.

“Jesus, man, sorry! Wouldn’t’a come on so strong if I knew she was your whore. How much did ‘ya pay for her, anyway?” His voice rings from behind. Jason tenses up again. When he pulls back from you, he’s gone. He’s like Jekyll-turned-Hyde when the combatant that lay dormant inside him reassumes his body.

He turns around, but his large frame shields you from seeing the scene unfold. You place a hand on his arm, a silent message of support, and you can feel him vibrating with anger. His hand comes to rest over yours and gives a reassuring squeeze.

“You know what?” You can’t be sure who he’s speaking to, but you can hear the eerie smile in his tone. “I’ll take care of this.” He faces you. “Can you give me a minute? Is that okay?” His voice is calm.

You know he would stay if you asked him to. And you never would, but you know he would go outside and kill that guy if you asked him to. And maybe you’re feeling a tad vindictive after the whole ordeal, so you just say, “Okay.”

He kisses your forehead, squeezing your hand once more. “I’ll come find you,” he says, stepping away, and you nod.

“Ross,” he commands. “Take her to the office. Get her whatever she wants.” Jason then speaks to all of his men. His tone drips with disdain. “Tomorrow we’ll talk about who’s getting fired for this.” You catch some of his men flinch.

He grabs the man by the collar once again and stalks towards the exit, dragging him along.

You’ve met Ross once or twice, though never exchanged more than a few words. He smiles at you. It’s amiable, if not slightly nervous. You know where the office is, but you’re still grateful for the guide. The mesh of moving bodies under dim lights makes all four corners of the room look the same. With the adrenaline wearing off, your hands ache and you become acutely aware of the stinging shock that shoots up your knee when you walk on it but, persevering, you follow him to the back. He holds the door that reads ‘RESTRICTED - DO NOT ENTER’ open for you, and you smile in thanks.

Various employees, servers and performers alike, mill about in the back hallways. You know some of them, having met in passing during other visits to the club, and offer polite greetings as you walk by. When you arrive at Jason’s office, Ross unlocks the door for you and you step inside.

It’s a nice office, noticeably homier than it was when you and Jason met. The first time he brought you back here it was just a desk, a chair, and a filing cabinet. You perched yourself on his desk while he sat in his chair and you teased him for not having a place for guests to sit, saying something about ‘men and their awful interior designing skills.’

“It’s not ‘bad skills,’ it’s cost-effective. ‘M runnin’ a business here, baby. If you need a place to sit that badly, you can sit right here.” He joked, patting his lap. And he said it with such conviction you believed him, but the next time you visited there was a brand new, plushy suede couch pushed against the wall.

You find a seat on said couch and try to get comfortable despite your protesting joints. From here you can spot a framed photo on Jason’s desk; the two of you smiling while bathing a shelter dog at the Wayne Animal Sanctuary. But while you smile at the camera, his gaze is trained on you.

Ross stands in the doorway, stoic as a bodyguard should be. “Do you need anything?” He asks you.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

“‘Course. I’ll be outside. Just yell if you need anything.” He moves to exit, but pauses. “Look,” he says, “We’re all really sorry about what happened. It was our fault. You have every right to hate us.” He chuckles self-deprecatingly. “God knows the boss does.”

You purse your lips, unsure how to respond. Technically Jason did instruct them not to leave you alone. But really, the only person at fault is that horrible man, and he was currently getting what he deserved.

“It’s okay, Ross,” you say, and you mean it. “I don’t blame you. And Jason’s not gonna fire any of you, okay? I won’t let him.”

He exhales. “Okay, you—yeah. Okay. Thanks.” He loiters awkwardly in the doorway for a moment. “Listen, Todd’s always been a great boss. But it’s no joke when it comes to you. Don’t know exactly what happened, but after meeting you, he’s just…different. Not sure if I believe it, but after the first time you were here, one of the bartenders swears they heard him whistling. Anyway, just mean to say…we’re glad he has you.”

His sincerity warms your heart. You thank him, and he assumes his post outside, closing the door.

At last in decent lighting, you take the time to examine yourself. Your knee, knuckles, and wrist are splotchy with bruises. A small scrape rests just above your knee from you were scratched. There’s a splattering of blood on your knuckles and on the rings you’re wearing. You grimace, the reality of what just happened settling in. Someone pulled a knife on you. If Jason hadn’t been there…the thought leaves you cold.

There are voices on the other side of the door, then receding footsteps. After a few seconds, a knock.

“Baby? Can I come in?”

“Yes,” you call out. Jason enters, locking the door behind him. There are some smatterings of blood on his hands and face, and he’s holding a first aid kit. Your immediate instinct is that he’s the one who needs first aid.

“Are you okay?” You ask as he kneels on the floor in front of you. “Did he hurt you?”

Jason tilts his head like a confused puppy, eyebrow raised. Just like that, The Red Hood is gone. He’s Jason again. He speaks softly, with a hint of his usual boyish charm. “Should I be insulted by you asking me that?” He picks up your un-injured leg and places the foot on his thigh, beginning to unravel the ribbon wrapped around your ankle. He removes the shoe and places it to the side, then repeats with your other foot. But when he moves it, your knee twitches and you wince. He frowns but doesn’t say anything. He sees the way your eyes travel between all the spots of blood. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, none of it’s mine.”

You sigh in relief. “You didn’t…kill him, did you?”

He chuckles, lightly massaging your foot. “Nah…did you want me to? ‘Cause I can still—”

“No.”

He smirks at you, before leaning down to press a kiss to your bruised knee. It’s so gentle, so loving, it completely contradicts the bloodstains that adorn him. As his hands move up to your calf, your hand moves to his hair, fingers threading through the white streaks and pushing them back so you can get a better view of his eyes. They’re a silky teal, bordering on sea green. They remind you of lake trips in the summer, and ice skating during the holidays.

“How bad is he? Like, on a scale of ‘he can walk it off’ to ‘he needs to go to the hospital.’”

Jason pauses his movements, looking thoughtful for a moment.

“He…he’s walking himself to the hospital.”

There’s not much you can say to that. After all, you gave him to okay to go fuck that guy up.

From the first aid kit, he retrieves a box of Band-Aids. They’re the children’s ones, decorated with cartoons and various characters. A specific one catches your eye, and you pick it out of the carton.

“Robin? Really?”

Jason breathes out a small laugh. “One of my guys’ daughter loves him.” He unwraps the bandage and sticks it over the scratch. You admire the small red plaster. Jason traces a finger over the emblem in the center, a black and yellow ‘R’.

He moves from your leg to your hand, gingerly laying it in his palm. One by one he slides each of your rings off. They’re not particularly special, but you still like them and you try to protest when he tosses them in the trash. He’s quick to assuage you with promises to buy you new ones with, hopefully, less blood.

"Did you see how good I got him?" You suddenly feel shy asking such a question. Like a child seeking validation.

"I did see," Jason says. And there's not a hint of condescension in his tone. "I'm proud of you. You remembered what I taught you."

You beam under his pride.

He uses a sanitizing wipe to remove the droplets of blood from your knuckles, kissing each one along the way. He reaches your wrist last. There’s a purple hand-shaped mark that wraps around it, and he stares at it. You can see his thoughts race at sixty miles an hour, and you know he’s beating himself up about it.

“Hey.” The hand in his hair moves to stroke his cheek. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I promise. I love you.”

He leans forward to press his forehead to your wrist. “I’m sorry,” he breathes. “I’m sorry.” He places gentle kisses on the purple skin. “I’m sorry. I love you.” He moves to the scratch above your knee, pressing more kisses, repeating the words like a prayer. Your hand is still enclosed in his hands, and his cool fingers soothe the throbbing swell. You pull his head up, holding his chin in your fingertips. His eyes close as he soaks in your warm touch.

You reach for another wipe and begin wiping the blood from his face. Some of it has dried, so you press the wipe a little harder, and blood rushes to his cheeks to give him an adorable flush. You repeat the process on his hands. Blood erased and wipes discarded, you pull him up to the couch to lie down with you. He stretches out, so large that his feet hang over the armrest. You snuggle up to his side and your head rests on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. It’s surreal, how utterly soft he is, and just for you. How no one else gets to see him like this. He goes out at night as a fighter, a crusader, a deadly threat. And then he comes home to sleep in your arms. In your bed.

You place your hand against his chest, right over his heart to feel it thrum beneath your palm. It beats simple and steady, and just for you.

am i the only one who likes the whole jason owning the iceberg lounge storyline (aside from the whole penguin prisoner thing but i only write according to canon that i like and leave out the things i don't! whoops🤷‍♀️);

the feminine urge to write more fics that take place within the universe of this one...

divider is from here

#my jason todd domesticity agenda #batman #red hood #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #batfamily #dc universe #dc comics #dcu #dc robin #robin

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cinnamorollcrybaby · 7 months ago

Text

Shameless

Tags: dad!Toji x fem!reader, modern!au, nsfw, mdni, breeding kink, he calls himself daddy

Synopsis: You’re Toji’s live-in nanny. He wants to breed you, and he successfully does so.

An: This is my story on ao3!! You can read it here. If you’re feeling extra nice, a kudos would be cool too.

Being a single dad was hard. Toji learned quickly after his wife's death that he in fact couldn't do this alone. The way little Megumi's big eyes looked up to him for direction... him of all people. He was not cut out for this. Megumi's mom was a wonderful mother: sweet, nurturing, and patient. Toji really didn't know if he was any of those things.

Luckily, her life insurance provided Toji with a relatively comfortable life combined with his job in construction of course. Construction might be his vice. He got away from home for 12 hours a day, and he worked so hard that his brain was mush by the time he was home. Not that he didn't love his son, he did, but every time he looked at Megumi he saw his sweet late wife. He also saw his short comings as a father.

Babysitters quit on him regularly. It was always the same excuse. "Megumi's an angel, but I can't be here 7 days a week. I have a life too." It was incredibly annoying. They'd stay for Megumi but left due to another one of his shortcomings.

Another one quit. That would be the third one this month. "Listen Mr. Fushiguro, I know a friend. She does this sort of thing on a different level. Have you ever considered having a live-in nanny?"

That stupid girl's question enlightened Toji. He had completely forgotten that live-in nannies still existed. After getting her friend's number and paying her what he owed her for her time, Toji relaxed on the couch with little Megumi tucked into his side. The three-year-old was happily babbling next to him, enamored by Toji's phone that was in his hand.

Toji looked at the number dialed into his phone, and he sighed. He was tired of making cold calls to potential babysitters like he was some desperate whore, but maybe, maybe this would be different. He wouldn't mind having a live-in nanny. His house wouldn't mind it either. Toji would be able to finally breathe. No more coming home from 12 hour shifts to pop something to eat in the microwave and wash the dishes. He wouldn't even have to see this so-called nanny often. He could pick up more hours at work with all of his new freedom of not having to worry about pissing off the babysitter.

*** *** ***

Either way, that's how you ended up in Toji's house. For the past three months you had taken care of Megumi, cleaned and deep cleaned his entire house, cooked him plenty of dinners from scratch, and even did his laundry the exact way he preferred. His house has never looked better, and Megumi had never looked so happy.

Despite being here for three months, you barely saw Toji. He seemed to avoid you like the plague and only answer with one-worded answers, which was fine. This was your job, not your actual family. There was no need for extensive communications. Though, you had gushed to your friend plenty over text about how hot "Mr. Fushiguro" was. He was conventionally attractive, yes. But you also always had a thing for the brooding types, and dammit, Toji was brooding. There was also something to be said about how he came home in the evenings. A black wifebeater clinging to his skin from a long day of working out in the sun. His jeans would be dirty from the work he was doing. His skin glistening from a thin sheen of sweat. His hair was always a mess. Goddammit. It was enough to make you feel fertile.

It was early in the morning, Toji was getting ready to go to work. Megumi had woken up, crying for his papa not to leave him. He's going through an extra clingy phase. He's usually okay once Toji's gone.

"Papa!" Megumi cried as Toji entered the living room. You had Megumi in your lap, rocking him with a sleepy look on your face. His tears were wetting your shirt, but you didn't seem to mind.

"He'll be back tonight, Gumi." You shooshed him and continued to try to rock him and pat his back.

Toji's face was unreadable. He was never one to get all upset over Megumi's crying, but hearing his son cry out for him tugged on his heartstrings extra this morning. Then, there was you. You were a godsend to Toji's life. Getting a live-in nanny was one of the best decisions he had ever made. Above that, you were excellent with Megumi. You were sweet... nurturing... patient. He hated how seeing you with his son made him feel. It almost felt like maybe 2 kids wouldn't be that big of a deal. Maybe 3. One on each of your legs and another one swelling in your belly. God. He was disgusted in himself for thinking like that.

"I love you, kiddo." Toji said quickly as he leaned down, giving Megumi's forehead a quick peck. The toddler made grabby hands for him. It was almost enough to make him stay home. Almost. Toji's eyes met yours as he was still leaned over. His face was close to yours. The tension between them were palpable. The moment felt like eternity between them.

Then, a black credit card was in view. "I need new work gloves. Get the extra thick rubber ones, will ya? Also, get whatever you and the kid want. I'll be back late tonight." He handed you the card and sauntered out of the house despite Megumi's pleas for him to stay. You looked at the Amex black card and blinked a couple of times. Only the top earners in the world had cards like this. Toji was just an average blue collar dad... It made you wonder how he got a card like this.

You still spent that shit though.

*** *** ***

Toji looked at his phone on the jobsite. No one dared to tell him to put it away. Toji was the best most competent worker out on the field. He could work circles around supervisors and project managers alike, and he was damn smart. He didn't need a pencil and paper or a calculator to make quick conversions in his head. So, most people stayed out of his way.

He smirked and chuckled at the notifications rolling in from his bank. 78.97 at Target. 21.25 at McDonald's. 43.52 at Barnes and Noble. 9.24 at Starbucks. He was happy you and Megumi were getting to have a little shopping spree.

You were also great at keeping him updated. You sent him lots of pictures and videos of Megumi. He cherished each one of them, immediately getting some of them printed and hung up in his house. There was even a picture of you and Megumi proudly displayed in the living room. In his mind, you were an integral part of the family. The "family" simply would not function if it weren't for you.

A fond smile spread across his face as he opened his messages. A picture of Megumi's little hands trying to fit into his new gloves that she had bought him. Great. She got the right ones. "I think he wants to be just like daddy :)", the message read.

Oh.

The twitch that just occurred in his pants should be punishable in a court of law. In no way should he have gotten turned on by that. You were just being nice. It was a normal thing for people to refer to him as "daddy" in that context. It never affected him in the way it was right now.

So anyways, that's how he ended up in the port-a-potty busting a load all over a picture of you that he had on his phone. After the shock of his orgasm that came quicker than ever, he looked down, disappointed in himself. He wasn't some horny teenage boy anymore. This was just downright deplorable. Begrudgingly, he wiped his phone clean from his sins. Post-nut clarity swirled his brain. He couldn't believe he just did that.

He called your number. He had to make things right.

"Hello? Is everything okay?" You immediately asked. After living with Toji for some time now, you learned that he doesn't just call people. He will absolutely decline a call to just text and ask what's up.

"Everything is fine." He replied, trying to hide his amusement. It was cute that you seemed so worried for him. "Are you still in town?"

"Yeah, Megumi and I are about to leave Starbucks and head home. Why? What's up?" You responded back to him. He could hear Megumi happily singing a song in the background.

"You know you spent 152 dollars today?" Toji asked as he popped his back up against the port-a-potty door. He had a lazy smirk on his face.

"Oh- crap. I'm sorry. You can take whatever you see fit out of my pay-" He interrupted your nonsense quickly.

"Do you think I'm poor?" His voice was amused, not angry like you expected it to be.

"What-? No.. no, sir. I was just-"

"I told you to get whatever you and the kid want. Don't come back home until your certain that you can't carry the amount of stuff you bought in one trip." He said quickly. His stomach was already coiling from how you called him sir. He grimaced as he felt another twitch. I just took care of you dammit.

"Oh... oh, okay? Are you su-" Click. He hung up on you. One too many dumb questions. You looked at Megumi as he strapped into the backseat of your car. He looked intrigued by the conversation even though you knew he realistically had no idea what was just said. "Daddy said we have to go to the toy store." You grinned at him. He was smiling and clapping over the word "toy".

234.22 at Toys-R-Us. 122.56 at Lego. 208.38 at Aerie. 88.21 at Ulta Beauty. Another 94.48 at Barnes and Noble.

The way Toji grinned each time he felt that familiar vibration of his phone go off, meaning another notification from his bank was off-putting. Workers on the jobsite never seen him so happy. It was his penance for being such a horny freaky fuck.

*** *** ***

It was later that same evening. Megumi was in the living room surrounded by toys and crafting materials. He was currently drawing all sorts of "shadow animals" as he called them. You would of course look and nod your head, congratulating him on each terribly drawn animal. You acted like that was the best damn wolf-bear-owl hybrid you ever saw.

You were in the kitchen cooking chicken and dumplings. The clock on the stove read seven p.m. You didn't expect to see Toji at all this evening. He said he was working late this morning. Usually, that meant he was dragging his feet in through the door until well past ten p.m.

Still, you made him a serving of chicken and dumpling soup. You always did. Even when he worked late, you would put him a helping of dinner in the microwave to keep warm. You never knew, but he was always delighted by that. He ate the dinners each time.

A key jingling in the door handle caught your attention while you were getting Megumi settled at the dining room table. Three-year-olds were so hard to manage: too small to eat by themselves but too big to be locked in a high chair.

Toji stepped into the living room with a small grunt. He smirked as he looked around at his destroyed living room. Toys, crayons, and pieces of "artwork" were strewn all about the place. He glanced up towards you and Megumi in the kitchen. He took note of how your face was flushed and surprised.

"Papa!" Megumi happily shouted before the little bastard ran from your grasp to go hug on Toji's legs. His dad smiled as he looked down at Megumi, and he used his hand to mess up Megumi's hair affectionately.

"Go eat your food, kiddo." Toji said warmly to his son. Megumi happily obliged and ran right back to his seat right next to you, and you fed him a spoonful of the soup.

"You're home early." You stated the obvious.

Toji would never tell you, but he left early because he missed you two.

"Don't sound too happy to see me." He remarked in a sarcastic tone.

"What-? No, I just.. would've cleaned up more had I known you would be home so soon..." You responded. Megumi was sitting beside you whining for another bite of food. You snapped out of your surprise, and you fed him another bite of chicken and dumplings.

"Why? I don't give a damn what this place looks like." Toji said with a small nonchalant shrug. He walked through the living room, carefully stepping over the toys. Before you had become his nanny, this was how his house normally looked: messy, lived in. "I've got a bowl of dinner in the microwave. My kid's happy and fed. I couldn't care less what that living room looks like."

Your heart fluttered at the sentiment. Toji was easy to please. He really just wanted what was best for his kid, and that was you. "I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." You replied. He looked at you with an unreadable expression. It looked like he might've wanted to say something, but he had backed out last minute. He hummed and walked towards his bedroom to shower the dirt, sweat, and grime from the day.

While Toji showered, you had finished feeding Megumi and yourself. You allowed Megumi to have about an hour of TV time before bed. He really enjoyed old X-Men cartoons. You turned them on for him and parked him on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket.

You hummed softly as you worked in the kitchen. You packed meal prep containers of soup for Toji to take for lunch for the next couple of days. Then, you were washing dishes in front of the sink.

*** *** ***

"I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." Your words repeated in Toji's head over and over like a mantra. He hadn't felt so... cared for in a long, long time. It made his heart feel full, which was an unfamiliar feeling for him. A less unfamiliar feeling was his dick standing fully erect and at attention. He groaned quietly as he leaned his head back in the shower.

Something had to be in the air recently. He was a grown man with desires, sure. But this was a new record for him. Ever since you started being a live-in nanny for him, the boners were a daily thing. Hell, twice or three times a day sometimes. He's tried everything... Well, okay, maybe not everything, but he's tried cold showers and staying away from you. Neither of those things work to soothe him.

His hand was gliding up and down his length for the second time today. He was facing the shower wall with his arm propped up on it, supporting his head. Damn you for making him feel like a slave to his desires. You wanted to make sure he had nothing to worry about? Then, you should be the one in here fixing this damn mess, not him. He pitifully rutted into his hand, imaging he's plunging deep into you. Imagining the multiple ways he'd fuck the hell out of you is the only thing that soothes the ache, but this time he didn't see an end in sight.

He gritted his teeth together, and he balled up his fist, rearing back before stopping himself. He's not a teenager anymore. He can't punch walls. He took a deep breath and turned the shower off. No, this won't do. He needs to fix this at the source.

After quickly drying off and getting dressed, he walked back into the kitchen. His eyes scanned over the house. Megumi was enthralled by the TV, and you were washing dishes. Perfect.

He slowly approached you from behind. He could tell you didn't hear him as you were still softly humming. Usually, you would stop humming if he entered the kitchen. He never understood why. The sounds of your melancholic hums were beautiful and soothing to him.

He was directly behind you, and his hands gently cupped your hips. You immediately flinched and made a soft scream that was quickly silenced by one of his hands. "Shh, we don't want to disturb the little brat, do we?" Toji said into your ear. His warm breath ghosted over the shell of your ear, making you shiver.

Toji's eyes flicked over towards the living room. Megumi hadn't moved an inch. Perfect.

Toji slowly released your mouth. To his delight, you didn't make a sound. He could hear how your breath was slightly labored from him scaring you. A small chuckle rose from his throat. His hands went back to your hips, and he pressed himself against your voluptuous ass. A hum of approval escaped him. He could see your hands gripping the countertops.

"Nod your head. You like this? Want me to keep pressing myself against you?" Toji whispered into your ear. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, and you nodded your head eagerly, giving him consent.

"Dirty fucking girl." His voice was like a growl in your ear as he started to move his hips, dragging his length up and down along you. You could feel each inch of his length beckoning for you. "I knew you'd take whatever I gave you, but this? Letting me grind against you like a pathetic teenager while my son is in the living room? You're such a fucking slut." His hands were digging into your hips as he continued his controlled motions.

"Mnn.. fuck.." You softly whimpered out. Thank god the X-Men were currently in a loud fight scene.

You slightly frowned as you suddenly didn't feel Toji behind you anymore. You were about to turn around and ask what he was doing, but his fingers curling into the waistband of your leggings told you everything you needed to know. "Toji-" You managed to whisper out. No way could you two do this while Megumi was in the next room over.

"Shut up." Toji interrupted you. He had taken his throbbing length out of his sleeping pants, and he had a look of concentration on his face as he angled himself right at your entrance. "You have no fucking idea how long I've needed this. So just be a good girl, shut up, and take what I give you."

Direct orders from your boss. Who were you to deny the man who just spoiled you all day today?

It was a tight fit. Toji wasn't a gentleman. He didn't prep you with his fingers or mouth. This wasn't love making. It was hardly fucking. This was fulfilling a need.

"God... fuck. I didn't expect you to be that tight." He growled into your neck as he held your hips still against him. It felt like he was splitting you apart. You couldn't even respond to him.

He noticed how tightly you were gripping the counter and how you weren't responding to him. Your knuckles were turning white. He almost felt guilty. His hand came around the front of you, and he gently rubbed the swollen bundle of nerves. "Shhh... You can take it. I know you can." He whispered into your ear as it was taking every last shred of self-restraint not to fuck you into oblivion right on this counter. He slowly pulled back until just his tip was inside, and he pushed all the way back in. "That's it. There's my good girl." He praised in your ear. It was not lost on him that he felt you get wetter with each praise.

He hesitated, but he said it anyway, "You wanna be a good girl for daddy, don't you?" He whispered into your ear. That phrase made you tremble in his arms and nod your head. He slowly pulled back out and pushed right back in, taking you slowly. "That's right... hngh, fuck." He moaned into your ear. "You want to be fucked by daddy. You want to take his cock like a good girl. Take it." His hips started to move with more conviction.

You were already so out of it. This was like a dirty fantasy come true. You couldn't help but check the TV a few times to make sure X-Men was still playing. You were still worried that Megumi might run in here for whatever reason and see you bent over in front of his dad. You knew it was unlikely. Megumi could watch that TV like a zombie all day if you let him. Besides, you would be able to hear the small pitter-patter of his footsteps.

"Stop looking at the fucking TV. Trust me." Toji growled into your ear as he forced your hips down onto him roughly. A noiseless gasp escaped you. He wasn't small, and he knew that. He was using it to his advantage.

"Fuck." He groaned quietly as he rubbed you with a bit more fervor. You could already feel that familiar warm feeling coiling in your stomach. "I'm going to fuck a baby into you. You were fucking made for this. Made for raising my kids and taking my fucking load." He was spewing nonsense into your ear, but in the moment, you couldn't help but nod and moan. "You were made for me." He proclaimed as his hips continued harshly snapping into your backside. Somehow the sounds were masked.

"You want that, don't you?" He asked as he bit down on your neck then lapped at the bite mark with his tongue.

"Yes, daddy!" You quietly exclaimed. His thrusts only increased in power. Your eyes started to cross, getting lost in pleasure.

"Fuck. You're gonna look so perfect pregnant with my baby. I won't let you have a break. As soon as one comes out; I'm puttin' another one in you." He continued on yapping about how many kids he was going to pump into you. "I'll breed you again and again." His thrusts were heavy and brutal. You couldn't take it anymore.

He moaned as he felt you clenching around him, finishing all over his cock. It was enough to drive him overboard. He pumped you full of cum until you were sure some of it was seeping out.

There was a peaceful moment of dizzy highness for you two. Toji panted against your back. For the first time in while, he's felt satisfied. A soft amused laugh escaped him as he heard the iconic X-Men episode coming to an end. He swiftly pulled out of you, and he tried to ignore that little whimper of protest you let out. He tucked himself back into his pants, and he pulled your leggings and panties back up for you since you were still a trembling mess over the counter.

"Alright Kiddo, c'mon. Time for bed." Toji said as he sauntered off into the living room as if he didn't just rearrange your guts. He put Megumi to bed that night, and he cleaned up the living room for you, allowing for you to recover in his bed for round two. He was much more of a gentleman for round two.

*** *** ***

"Hey... I know I ain't been to see you in a while. I'm sorry." Toji said as he sat down on the grassy ground. "I was letting life pass me by for too damn long." He said as he took a wet washcloth and began to wash up his late wife's gravestone. "I'm doing better now, so don't worry about me."

"Megumi's growing like a weed. I'm sorry I didn't bring him to see you... I just don't know how to explain it to him." Toji's voice was full of guilt as he dragged the wet washcloth against the stone. "He's a good kid though. He looks just like you, damn bastard." He softly laughed, knowing his wife would've struck him over the side of the head for calling Megumi a damn bastard.

"Listen... I met a girl." He leaned his head over the gravestone. It had been close to three months since you and Toji started sleeping together. There wasn't a formal label to your relationship, but it didn't feel necessary. You two both knew you were sleeping exclusively with each other. "I think you'd like her, or maybe you wouldn't since she's fucking your husband. But either way... I-" He choked up a bit as he held onto the cold stone. "I feel so fucking guilty... I know you're not coming home anytime soon, but I just... I need your blessing. If you can somehow hear me, please... I never asked you for anything until I asked you to marry me. Now, I'm asking... please somehow show me you approve of this."

"She's good for me... She takes good care of Megumi. He's so damn attached to her somedays." Toji softly laughed as he remembered how a few nights ago Megumi crawled into bed with you and him because he had a nightmare. Instead of taking to Toji like he normally does, he crawled into your arms. Toji had never felt so damn proud and slighted at the same time.

"I should get going. Give me a sign though.. Something that tells me you approve." He finished his visit with his wife, and he went home.

*** *** ***

That night at dinner, Megumi sped into the kitchen with an action figure in his hand. He was pretending to be Batman. "Gumi, I've told you three times. Stop running." You said as you gave the small child a look. Toji smirked as he knew that look good and well. It was the look a mom gave as a warning. Megumi was on his last warning.

"I'm sorry, mama." Megumi apologized, causing for both you and Toji to freeze right in your tracks. Megumi had never called you mama before. He always said your name.

Your heart swelled in your chest. It was a feeling of affection and guilt. "Oh no... baby.." You said softly as you took his hand. You lead him into the living room, and you crouched down, showing him a picture of his mom to him. "That's mama." You gently corrected him.

Toji watched the scene like a hawk from the dinner table. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had never been shy about telling Megumi who his mom was, but he hadn't exactly been forthcoming about how his mom passed away when he was a small baby.

Megumi pointed at the picture. "Mama." He said quietly. You nodded and patted his head.

"That's right." You praised affectionately. He then turned his attention to you. and he poked your chest with his tiny finger.

"Mama." He said, pointing at you.

"No-"

"It's alright." Toji spoke up from his seat at the dinner table.

"I don't want him to be confused..." You replied as you slowly stood back up, looking at Toji.

"He doesn't sound confused to me." He retorted with a small grin. You turned your attention back to Megumi, and Toji looked up towards the ceiling. "Thank you." He muttered so quietly before kissing the necklace that hung around his neck. He had his wife's blessing. This proved it.

After finishing his dinner, Toji joined you two in the living room. You and Megumi were curled up on each side of his while watching that old X-Men cartoon. Suddenly, Megumi rose from the couch. You and Toji watched him with a hint of confusion.

"What is he doing?" You softly asked Toji as Megumi bent over, and he looked between his legs at both you and Toji.

"I have no fucking id-" He was about to respond, but then, it hit him. "Get up." He said as he stood up from the couch. He quickly grabbed his phone, keys, and wallet like a madman.

"What? What? Is something wrong?" You asked as you had never seen Toji move this fast. You quickly got up too.

"Nothing's wrong. Come on. We're going to the store." He grunted as he swooped Megumi into his arms.

You were confused and in denial when Toji bought a pregnancy test and made you take it. Now, both of you were waiting outside of the bathroom for the five minutes to be over. "This is crazy, Toji. I'm not pregnant."

"It's an old wives' tale. When babies do that, it's supposed to mean their looking for their sibling." Toji said with a nonchalant shrug as if what he said was matter-of-fact. "My mother told me that's how she knew she was pregnant with me."

The timer went off on his phone, and both of you fought to get into the bathroom first. He eventually overpowered you and snatched the pregnancy test off the counter quickly. "Oh." He said quietly. The room went still.

Suddenly, your heart was racing. "What is it? Is it negative?" You asked a hint of disappointment hit you. You didn't know why, but a small part of you hoped for it to be positive.

"Oh, you're fucking getting it tonight." Toji smirked as he turned the pregnancy test over. Two pink lines were clear as day on the test. You're pregnant.

Tags: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @theuniversesnepobaby

#jjk #jjk fanfic #fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #drabble #jjk suggestive #jjk smut #toji x you #toji smut #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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foxy-eva · 21 days ago

Text

Uncovered

Summary: You have to go undercover as a stripper. Spencer is a little too impressed by your pole dancing skills.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) implied case related violence (including the mention of guns), implied age gap, pole dance, lap dance, jealous Spencer, heavy kissing, grinding, oral (male receiving), handjob, fingering, unprotected penetrative sex (birth control mentioned)

Word count: 5.4k

Author’s Note: I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins Undercover Challenge!

Masterlist

“We could do an undercover mission,” you suddenly blurted out while staring at the evidence board.

Your words caught the attention of the rest of the team. For days you hadn’t gotten any closer to catching the unsub and you were getting tired of waiting for another victim.

“You’re right. The last two times he went after the new girls at the strip club,” Luke stated. “We could lure him out that way.”

“Going undercover as a stripper? It's risky but it could work,” JJ agreed. “I'm not gonna do it, though.”

As if on cue, everyone's eyes were suddenly on you.

It made sense, you were the youngest on the team and fit the unsub's type the most.

“Absolutely not,” Spencer disagreed as he shook his head. “It's too dangerous and she's too inexperienced.”

“Hey!” You scolded your coworker. “I can handle myself. And I have plenty of experience!”

“As a stripper or undercover agent?” Luke joked to lighten the mood.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed, “As a profiler! And just for the record, I took some pole dancing lessons a while ago.”

You were met with surprised looks and raised eyebrows. Before anyone had the chance to make an inappropriate remark, you clarified, “It’s a great workout, actually.”

Emily found your eyes. Ultimately she was the one who'd have to make this decision. “Are you sure you're okay with this?”

You thought about it for a moment before you nodded. You were certain that your team would protect you no matter what. There was nothing to worry about.

After a day of preparation, everything was ready for the undercover mission. It was still early when you and Spencer arrived at the club. It wouldn't be for another hour until the first guests would show up.

“I'm gonna go change,” you said before you disappeared in a room in the back while Spencer took a look around the club to make sure all the hidden cameras were in place.

After you closed the door behind you, you took a deep breath and pulled out a lacy purple bodysuit that would cover your skin just enough to hide the microphone. After you shed your clothes, you taped the wire to your body before slipping into the piece of lingerie. When you checked yourself in the mirror, your heart started racing at the thought of dancing on a stage dressed like that.

You didn’t even care that a bunch of strangers would see you like that. But Spencer would be there, too and that was a thought you could barely handle. When Emily decided he should be the one present while everyone else waited in the surveillance truck outside, you almost wanted to call the mission off.

Nobody on your team knew how much you were pining for Spencer. Countless sleepless nights had been filled with fantasies of sharing intimate moments with him. And now you had to strip in front of him in a room full of strangers while potentially being targeted by a serial killer. That wasn’t quite what you had imagined.

Despite covering up the most important parts, the one-piece left very little to the imagination. By applying a dramatic amount of make-up and fixing your hair, you tried to distract yourself from the thought. Once you were done, you inspected your work in the mirror. You looked so different, it was almost shocking.

Earlier you were worried that everybody would be able to tell at first glance that you weren’t actually a professional stripper but now you were sure you’d pass well. You closed your eyes for a moment and thought back to the pole dance lessons you took a while ago to spice up your workout routine. It had been a while but you were confident you still remembered most of the moves.

A knock on the door had your eyes shoot open again.

“Are you decent?” You heard Spencer’s voice on the other side.

“No,” you laughed as you opened the door. “But that’s kind of the point.”

As he took in the sight in front of him, Spencer’s eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly. The subtle rosy shade spreading over his cheeks let your heart jump.

“You look…” Spencer started but failed to finish his sentence.

“I know, it’s a lot,” you finally sighed.

“It’s very different from your usual work attire,” he chuckled. “You look beautiful, though.”

His words seemed sincere. They made you smile. There was a moment of silence between the two of you before Spencer continued talking.

“The manager of the club asked about a name to introduce you to the crowd.”

“Oh I gotta pick a stripper name! That’s fun. Do you have any ideas?” You asked him before adding, “You’re from Vegas after all.”

“Crystal, Candy, Ginger, Diamond, Amber, Karma… all very popular stripper names. They don’t really suit you, though,” he said with furrowed brows as if he was really thinking about it.

“What’s your suggestion?”

A smirk spread over his face before he leaned down enough for you to feel his body heat. “Vixen,” he teased.

His choice made you laugh out loud. It was not surprising to you that he’d pick something that could be interpreted as both, a compliment and an insult. “That’s perfect.”

“Are you already wearing your wire?” He asked while scanning your body once more.

“Yeah, you can’t tell, can you?” You wondered as you traced your finger over the lace of your bodysuit, following the wire underneath the fabric. Spencer audibly gulped when you brushed your hand over your breast. It wasn’t even intentional but made it very obvious that your outfit had at least some effect on him.

He shook his head. “Do you think it might come loose when you move on stage?” He wanted to know.

You hadn’t thought about that before. Wire spilling out from your cleavage would certainly bust your undercover mission.

“Maybe I should do a little practice run?” You suggested and Spencer agreed.

Spencer followed you back to the club and took a seat in first row while you got up on the stage. Taking a few steps around the platform, you made yourself familiar with the space available. The pole was right in the middle. You walked around it slowly, tentatively letting your hand move along it. The light was so bright you could barely see the seats.

After searching for a second, you found Spencer’s eyes staring up at you.

“Could you keep your eyes on me to make sure the wire… or anything else… doesn’t show?”

He raised his eyebrows and repeated your words, “Anything else?”

“Spencer, I’m wearing a tiny skin-tight bodysuit and I’m about to swing my body around a pole. I’m sure you know what I mean. I don’t want to show more than what these people pay for,” you snickered.

“It would certainly guarantee great tips,” he joked.

His words made you laugh, “I hope you brought small bills.”

After taking a deep breath, you followed the steps you had memorized from your pole dance classes. First, you slowly walked around the pole before bending down while dramatically arching your back. Then, you squatted down before slowly standing up straight again. With your hand on the pole you walked around it a little faster to gather some momentum before jumping up and hooking one leg around the pole. Holding that position for a second, you took another deep breath until you slowly slid down again.

You repeated different variations of those moves several times until you were sure you had tested your outfit enough. Walking to the edge of the stage, you found Spencer immediately offering you a hand to help you get down.

“That was very impressive,” he praised you, making your heart skip another beat.

When you looked at him you noticed how his cheeks seemed heated and his pupils were dilated a little more than usual. The tension between you was palpable and made you curious about how far you could take this with him. There were still a few minutes left until your team would turn on the cameras and microphones.

This undercover persona you had taken on really boosted your confidence.

“What if the unsub asks me for a private dance?” You said while motioning your head towards a more secluded area of the club.

“There are cameras everywhere and I can assure you that I won’t let you out of my sight. I’ll keep you safe.” The firm tone of his voice didn’t leave any room for doubt.

“Thank you. But maybe… I should practice that, too? To be safe?”

Spencer raised his eyebrows at your suggestion before nodding. “You’re right. We should talk this through.”

He walked right behind you when you approached the section of the club with private booths for lap dances. “You should take this one,” he said while pointing at the booth in the middle and sitting down at the table closest to it. “Leave the curtain open a crack, this way I can watch from here.”

He stayed at the table while you did as he said, leaving the curtain open just enough for him to peek through it. Then, you walked back out of the booth to take Spencer’s hand in yours.

“Come on,” you said with a nervous tremble in your voice.

There was little resistance from him when you pulled him from his seat to lead him into the booth. He sat down and watched your every move as you closed the curtain completely.

“That’s not what we just discussed,” he reminded you, hinting at the closed curtain.

“I know,” you said and winked. “But you’re not the unsub.”

“Club rules state that the customers aren’t allowed to touch the dancers but they can touch them. You don’t have to do that, though. If anyone really asks for a private dance, I’d suggest you keep an arm’s length of distance.”

“Unless it’s you?” You snickered as you approached him.

“Very funny,” he deadpanned. “And just for the record, you can also decline a private dance. You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. As far as we know the unsub jumps his victims after the show on their way to the car.”

Your stomach turned at the thought of giving a lap dance to a serial killer. This really was a line you didn’t want to cross but that didn’t mean you couldn’t play along to spend more time with your favorite coworker.

“Okay, no more unsub talk,” you said with a playful tone. “I gotta practice the lap dance now.”

It seemed as if Spencer only realized now what you had in mind all along. You almost couldn’t believe that he thought you only wanted to talk this through. “Are you okay with this?” You asked to make sure. He confirmed by nodding.

“So, cutie,” you purred while brushing your hands over your sides. “What do you like?”

“Uhm…” he stuttered as he watched you move your body slowly in front of him.

Turning to your side, you arched your back to give him a perfect view of the curve of your backside. “Maybe this?” You teased.

Spencer licked his lips and audibly exhaled. His hands were placed on his thighs and you noticed how his fingers trembled slightly, as if he had to hold back from reaching out to touch you. To your surprise he actually answered, “Yes.”

Finding his eyes, you noticed how the gold of his irises had almost entirely been swallowed by the black of his pupils. You stepped closer until there was barely any distance between the two of you. He looked up at you with a certain hunger written all over his face. Placing your hand on his shoulders, you leaned forward to let him take a look at your cleavage.

“How about this?” You breathed and watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“You really are a vixen,” he groaned and closed his eyes for a moment.

That was when you dared to let your eyes drop to his lap, a smirk spreading over your face when you noticed the bulge straining against his pants. Heat started rushing to your center at the realization of the effect you had on him.

More than anything did you wish you could just drop down to your knees right then and there to take care of him. Licking your lips, you allowed yourself to imagine how his cock would feel pressed against your tongue.

Then Spencer opened his eyes again, forcing you to get back at least some of your composure. You knew you didn't have much time until your undercover mission officially started. It would certainly not be long enough to do what you really craved.

Still, you needed to be closer to him, even if it was just for a second.

“You seem tense,” you said as you took his hands in yours to move them away from his thighs. Then, you sat down on his lap, straddling him. “You should relax a little.”

His eyes were wide when he looked at you and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. You brought his hands to your waist, urging him to touch you but he hesitated.

“Touching the dancers is against the club rules,” he mumbled.

“Good thing I don’t actually work here,” you quipped.

Suddenly you heard a high-pitched noise ringing in your ear. By the way Spencer jumped, he must have heard it too. “Sorry about that,” you heard Emily’s voice through the ear piece. “We were having technical difficulties. Can you guys hear me? The microphones should be working now.”

“Yes we can hear you,” Spencer answered.

“Damn, what are you guys doing?” You heard Luke’s voice and were reminded that the entire club was equipped with surveillance cameras.

Quickly getting up from Spencer’s lap, you cleared your voice and explained, “I uhm… was just practicing a lap dance.”

“Please tell me I don’t have to file a report to HR,” Emily sighed and you weren’t sure if she was joking or not.

“We just decided that private dances are off limits for her tonight,” Spencer informed your team leader as he got up from his seat and walked out of the booth right after you.

You turned your head to find his eyes. “Did we now?”

Spencer nodded, “It’s too dangerous.”

“Yeah we can’t risk giving civilians heart-attacks,” Penelope giggled through your ear-piece. “You look amazing, by the way.”

After talking everything through with your team once more, you went backstage again to freshen up and fix your hair and make-up. It wouldn’t be long until it was your turn on the stage.

When a very sweet dancer named Karma returned from the stage, she waved at you and said, “Vixen, you’re up next. Good luck, they are gonna love you!”

Your heart was pounding louder than the music when you approached the stage. The club was full, the air was hot and filled with the sweet perfumes of the dancers before you. The light was so bright you could barely see the crowd.

You tried to find him, anyway.

Spencer sat at the same spot as before when you finally found his eyes. He wore a soft smile and nodded at you, encouraging you to stick to the plan.

The club owner’s voice blared through the speakers, “Everyone make some noise for our new arrival Vixen!”

The crowd cheered and you started moving, following the steps you had practiced and repeating them in different variations over and over again. Every once in a while you looked for Spencer’s soft smile for reassurance and he was always there to provide just that. The longer you danced, the more you were reminded why pole dancing was a whole body workout after all.

When your muscles started aching, your time was finally up. You left the stage and disappeared in the changing room to sip some water and wait for further instructions.

“A tall man with a blue baseball cap asked the manager for a private dance with you,” Spencer informed you through your ear-piece. “He seemed very agitated when his request was denied. I’m gonna keep my eyes on him, he might be our unsub.”

“Thank you,” you whispered into your microphone, making sure the other women there wouldn’t notice.

It made you feel safe to know that Spencer had your back. You were certain that if anyone would lay as much as a finger on you, they would immediately feel the barrel of his gun on the back of their head.

You changed into your regular clothes and put on a jacket, getting ready to leave the club just like you rehearsed with your team.

“Is everyone in position?” You heard Emily’s voice. After everyone confirmed, she told you to leave the club through the backdoor.

Despite the exhaustion, your nerves were on edge, aware that the unsub might try to attack you any moment now. You had your gun in your purse and your hand ready to quickly grab it as you walked out the door.

Looking around, you didn’t see anyone, not even the members of the team even though you were certain they were there. They still needed probable cause to make an arrest.

“Suspect is approaching,” Spencer whispered.

Even though you expected him, you were still startled when you suddenly felt his presence behind you.

“You owe me a lap dance,” the man snarled at you as you turned around.

You already had your hand wrapped around your gun in your purse when he started approaching you with his arms reached out.

Spencer quickly appeared behind him with his gun pointed at the unsub, yelling, “FBI, don’t move!” He froze and stepped back. “If you touch her, you’re dead,” Spencer growled.

The rest of your team appeared to help with the arrest and hand the guy over to the local police. Relief washed over you when you realized that your undercover mission was successful. Once you got back to your hotel room, you couldn’t wait to wash off your make-up and take a shower.

After getting cleaned up you slipped into your pajama shorts and an oversized shirt, ready to get into bed. A firm knock on your hotel room door disrupted your plan. You had a feeling who you might find on the other side.

Spencer stood in the hallway, a concerned look on his face. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he said as you stepped aside to invite him in.

“I’m okay,” you confirmed with a tired smile on your face.

His sight grazed over your outfit, almost as if he were caressing your body with his eyes.

Spencer was still wearing his dress shirt and black pants and you wondered what he would look like in casual clothes. It was hard to imagine him in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants.

“You look more like yourself again,” he said, hinting at your clean face and casual clothes.

“Do you already miss Vixen?” You quipped.

“No,” he countered without hesitation. “I prefer you like this. You're even more beautiful without any make-up on.”

His straightforwardness let heat rush to your cheeks. It was as if the time you spent at the club with him changed something between the two of you. You always hoped for your feelings to be mutual but could never be sure before.

Spencer seemed tense when he continued speaking. “This was your first undercover mission and I know this one was very intense.”

You tried to lighten the mood. “So you don’t usually have to dance half-naked in front of serial killers when you go undercover?”

“Rarely,” he chuckled before being quiet for a second. “I know we asked a lot of you tonight.”

You thought back to when you suggested that mission. “You didn't. You never even wanted me to go undercover.”

“Yeah, I really did not want that,” he agreed.

“There was no need to worry, I knew you'd have my back,” you reassured him.

Spencer stepped closer to you, his eyes fixated on yours, a slight glimmer visible in the warm amber of his irises. “Can I be honest with you?”

With a nod you confirmed, prompting Spencer to keep talking.

“This mission was like torture to me.”

You felt your heart stop for a moment and a pit form in your stomach. Thinking back to earlier that night, you started to feel bad for being so bold.

“I'm very sorry. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

To your surprise, your words made him chuckle. “That's not what I'm talking about. You didn't make me uncomfortable.”

That was relieving to hear. It also made you curious. “Then explain it to me, please.”

He took a step towards you. His tone was tense when he said, “It was torture because I hated seeing all those men looking at you, lusting after you. Nobody should be allowed to see you like that.”

Another step in your direction. Now your chests were almost touching and you were sure that Spencer must have been able to hear the accelerated beating of your heart.

He leaned down, his hot breath ghosting over the skin of your neck before he whispered, “Nobody but me.”

It was then that all your remaining self-restraint broke. Swinging your arms around his neck, you pulled him against your body while capturing his lips with yours. With the same amount of eagerness he reciprocated your actions.

With one hand in the nape of your neck and the other on your back, he secured your position pressed against his body. A timid moan escaped your lips, an invitation Spencer gladly accepted by deepening the kiss. Time stood still as you got lost in this kiss, all the yearning and longing of the past few months finally unraveling.

Greedy hands found the buttons of his shirt, hastily undoing them one by one. He moved with you as you let the fabric slide over his shoulders and drop to the floor. With your hands against his chest, you moved Spencer to the edge of the bed, urging him to sit down. There was no resistance from him, he happily followed your lead.

You climbed into his lap just like you did at the club earlier, only this time there was no holding back from either of you. Spencer welcomed you on top of him like a queen on a throne. His hands wandered from your waist down to your hips, playfully squeezing your flesh before gently stroking your thighs. The sighs falling from your mouth only spurred him further on.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you confessed with a shaky breath.

“Me, too,” Spencer answered. “You have no idea how much I want you.”

Ever so slightly you shifted in his lap until you felt his hardness pressed against your core. A subtle twitch gave away how good the sudden pressure felt for him. When you dared to roll your hips against him once, Spencer whimpered into the kiss, a sound so delicious it sent a shockwave right to your center.

“I would have loved to do that earlier,” you snickered before you began moving.

Spencer groaned, “That would have been my downfall.”

Grinding against him, your kiss was interrupted by heavy breaths and desperate moans from the both of you. Spencer buried his fingertips into your hips so hard you were sure you’d find their imprints still visible in the morning. The friction you created between your legs let your arousal soak through your panties. There was still so much you wanted to do with him, so you decided to slow down the movement of your hips before it got too much for either of you.

Your lips left his in favor of kissing along his jawline, his stubble tickling your cheek. A rumble rolled through his chest when you began nipping the sensitive skin of his neck. His hands found the seam of your shirt and pushed it upwards, revealing your skin to him. Leaning back, you let him pull it over your head and toss it aside.

There was a moment of silence while he took in the glory that was your exposed body.

When he found your eyes again, he purred, “You’re so beautiful, it’s almost unreal.”

A soft kiss was placed against your collarbone while his hands found their home on your breasts, gently exploring the softness your body had to offer. When he placed your hardening peaks between his fingertips to apply some pressure, you moaned louder than you had anticipated.

Spencer looked at you as if he was witnessing a miracle, his cheeks heated, his eyes wide and pupils blown to the rim. “You’re absolutely perfect,” he praised you.

To his surprise, you got up from his lap without a warning and he whined in protest. Then, you fell to your knees in front of him, your hands flying to the waistband of his pants in an instant.

“There’s another thing I wanted to do earlier,” you cooed as you undid his pants.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he panted as he helped you shed the rest of his clothes.

When Spencer’s body was completely unveiled right in front of you, you took your time to let your sight roam over his body. His chest was flushed and heaving, his tummy looked soft and had a trail of hair leading down to the dark curls at the base of his cock. You wrapped your fingers around his shaft and watched as a bead of precum rolled over the swollen tip.

Leaning closer, Spencer could feel your hot breath against him. He watched you intently only to shut his eyes for a second when you gave his hardness a gentle squeeze. He twitched against your palm in response. Your tongue swiped over your lips to wet them. You could feel your mouth watering.

Then Spencer did something you hadn’t expected. He begged.

With a soft and broken voice, you heard him say, “Please…”

To end his suffering, you began kissing along his shaft before licking over his tip. Spencer shuddered beneath you and made sounds so desperate you could have gotten drunk on them. Your lips closed around him and Spencer threw his head back, muttering some curse words you had never heard from him before.

He felt hot and heavy against your tongue when you sank down on him slowly. You began moving with a steady rhythm, your hand covering what your throat couldn’t.

“Feels so good,” he muttered.

You would have been very happy to let him fall over the edge this way, curious to taste his release but when he got close to his breaking point, you felt his hand on your jaw.

“Slow down, please.”

After releasing him from your mouth, you placed a soft kiss on his tip before looking at him.

“Tell me what you need,” you said while you kept slowly stroking his erection.

He grabbed your wrist to stop you from touching him. “I need you,” he cooed and helped you get up from the floor. “Come here.”

After guiding you onto the mattress, he laid down beside you before he kissed you once more. One of his hands moved down your body, over your chest, your stomach and finally, between your legs. He brushed over the fabric of your shorts, certainly noticing how damp they already were. Slipping his hand beneath the waistband, he pushed down your shorts a little.

Hurried and ungracefully, you quickly got rid of your shorts and panties to give him full access to your skin. Your desperate action made Spencer chuckle but he didn’t say anything. Instead he kissed you again while he pushed your thighs apart with his hand.

Then, he finally made contact with two of his fingers. He dragged them along your folds, spreading your arousal even more before finding your swollen bud.

“You’re so wet,” he breathed against your lips.

You smirked into the kiss while one of your hands wrapped around his erection again. “And you’re so hard,” you teased him.

Spencer didn’t let you distract him, he seemed determined to bring you pleasure by the way he circled your most sensitive spot. When he was sure you were ready, his fingertips found your entrance and slowly sank into you. The intrusion was very welcome. Your walls began fluttering against his digits the faster he moved.

“Spencer…,” you sighed when you got closer to the edge much sooner than you had anticipated.

Lazily you stroked his length while he worked his hand against your core. Spencer knew what he was doing and you could have easily unravelled this way. That was not what you wanted right then, though.

“I need your cock,” you sighed instead. “Need it inside me.”

He groaned at your words before he removed his hand from your center. You couldn’t believe your eyes when he brought them to his mouth to clean your essence off his fingers. Never before had you seen anything so sinful. It turned you on more than you thought was possible.

Now it was your turn to beg. “Fuck me, Spencer. Now, please!”

Your desperation made him smirk. “You’re on birth control, right?” He wanted to make sure as he kneeled between your legs.

“Yes I am. I also just got tested. So will you please fuck me now?”

“Gladly,” he groaned as he leaned over you.

He guided his cock to your folds and dragged it along them to coat it with your arousal before he slowly pushed into you. Inch by inch he sunk into you, stretching you open to accommodate his size. When you had enveloped him completely, he captured your lips in a kiss once more.

Your core pulsed around him as if your body was begging him to finally start moving. He obliged as he began pushing into you, slowly at first but quickly accelerating his motions until the bed frame was shaking.

“Fuck,” he whined. “You feel so good. So tight for me.”

The room filled with the sound of your bodies colliding and the song of pleasure falling from your lips.

You were at a loss for words, already blissed out and dancing along the edge of glory after just a few thrusts. Moans and sighs escaped your throat as you got even tighter around him. Spencer noticed the state you were in and changed the angle slightly to provide even more pressure.

“Come for me,” he whispered as he dropped his hand to where your bodies met to draw circles around your nub with his thumb.

And how could you deny him that? With a particularly forceful push you reached your breaking point, your entire body shaking beneath him as you came. Spencer guided you through the euphoria with precise thrusts, determined to maximize your pleasure. When you clenched around him one final time, he finally lost his composure, too.

“I’m so close,” he mumbled as he pushed into you erratically. “Where do you want me to…?”

“Inside,” you sighed. “Come inside me, please!”

Hearing those words pushed him over the edge, spilling his essence into you as you ground your hips against his. He collapsed into your arms and you were happy to catch him. A tired kiss was placed on your cheek before Spencer buried his face into the crook of your neck.

You held him tightly against your body, even when breathing became a little more difficult with his weight on top of you. Gentle fingertips drew circles on his back until you felt the mixed evidence of your shared desire dripping down your thighs.

“We should get cleaned up,” you breathed, urging Spencer to get up.

“Stay,” he said. “I can take care of that.”

He disappeared in the bathroom for a moment, cleaning himself up before returning with a damp towel. Sitting down beside you, he touched your thigh and cooed, “Open up for me please.”

After hesitating for a moment, you did as he asked and he began to thoroughly and carefully rid you of any remaining stickiness. You shuddered when the towel moved over your sensitive bud and Spencer apologized although there was nothing to be sorry for. No man before him had shown you so much care and affection and it warmed your heart. When he was done, he put the towel aside and found his home inside your embrace, where he stayed for the rest of the night.

Thank you for reading! Please like, reblog and leave a comment to show your support and help me stay motivated to write more stories!

Taglist: @adoredfromafar @grumpyy-bearr @frickin-bats @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @xserenax-13 @alexxavicry @samuel-de-champagne-problems @evvy96 @reidsbookclub @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebs-oxygen @nomajdetective @kobaltdragon @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @castiels-majestic-wings @spensreid @silversprings-mp3 @person-005 @kittyisick @siriuslyval03 @sleepysongbirdsings @brownbunnyb

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff

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david-tennant-in-chairs · 1 year ago

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Raise a fancy glass to the classy gentleman on his special day 🥃

#happy birthday david tennant #david tennant #david tennant in chairs #phileas fogg #around the world in 80 days #atwi80d #phileas my beloved #legs for days #just like all the limbs #soft scottish hipster gigolo #good lord he's beautiful #the eyes the hair the nose the everything #plenty of room on that lap #i wanna take a bite out of those drumsticks #i could be classy for phileas if he wanted #keep my pinky out and everything #i want to drink him #like a fine wine

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miajooz · 16 days ago

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Lust Quest? ₊˚⊹♡

overview ꨄ Ellie—your girlfriend, was sitting at her desk practically the whole day playing her favorite game. You didn’t mind usually, but the lack of attention was definitely annoying you. After awhile of nagging, she got fed up with you.

warnings ꨄ Ellie is lowkey kinda mean..choking, strap-usage (r!receiving), fingering (!receiving), choking, hair pulling, degrading, dumbfication, deprivation of pleasure, edging, ect! NOT exactly a drabble, IM SORRY GUYS! I GOT CARRIED AWAY.

wc: 5.6k

You’re not exactly sure how you got in this situation. Better yet, where you managed to lose where this situation made sense. Your girlfriend, Ellie, was playing on her PlayStation—like always, it seemed. Ever since you got her that desk sized T.V, she hadn’t been able to peeled herself away from the same thing.

She was playing some sort of zombie game that you actually had no care for, but there was something about the way her fingers moved the joysticks so calculatedly that was so enamoring. Or the way her brow would be furrowed in either annoyance or concentration, the way she’d bite the inside of her bottom lip and breathe heavier—it was so hot.

Everything about Ellie was hot, everything she did put you in a trance you found yourself stuck in at every waking minute. Even your unawake moments—she lived there, taking over your mind as if she had the right to.

The only downside was how focused she got on the game. You’d be trying to have an actual conversation with her, and she’d be shooting a zombie in some hotel basement, complaining and groaning. It was irritating to say the least, you only really managed when she’d let you sit on her lap—as long as you promised to stay still, that is. But even in that position, you found yourself feeling envious of a gaming controller. The way both hands were gripping it tightly, the way she’d tighten her grip when she got angry. You missed when your thighs would be her stress relief toy.

What a low blow, where had your self worth gone?

Even though she’d squeeze your thigh as if it was the only thing keeping her sane, or burry her face in your neck and groan frustratedly—it wasn’t enough. You still couldn’t stay still, you still couldn’t help but squirm and sigh in annoyance when her eyes would be trained on the screen in front of her instead of her literal girlfriend.

You complained, you whined, you didn’t stay still, you didn’t stay quiet—but she seemed so unfazed. That only made you try harder, stubbornness was a two-way problem in this relationship.

Your complaining didn’t go unnoticed, though, she’d usually brush it off and laugh—but not this time.

That’s how you ended up in this situation. Ellie had pushed her gracefully gifted T.V closer to the wall before slamming you down on the desk. The impact forced a sharp yelp from your throat, along with multiple figures, comics, and whatever other shit she had on her desk to fall off. The cluttering sound of things falling didn’t faze her, she just looked at you with narrowed eyes and an agitated expression.

“Baby, do you know what staying still means?” she asked, her voice was so condescending. It was as if she was talking to you like you were stupid—maybe because she knew you would be in a few minutes. You were always left hazy when she was done with you, even you were painfully aware of that fact.

“I’d stay still if you actually paid attention to me. Do I have to get on my knees and plead for basic attention?” you spat, equally as angry. It was unknown if it was the anger or the heavy sexual tension that made the room feel so tense—most likely the latter.

“Oh, please. You get plenty of attention, you just don’t like when my focus is on something other than you.” she argued, the way she was running her hand up your thigh was a stark contrast to her bitter tone.

You knew it was true, she showered you in attention and affection. Even in her more distant moments, you could see how hard she tried. Yet, it was still so frustrating when she focused so hard on something other than you, something that wasn’t even real, pixels on the T.V you bought her.

“You’re so infuriating, Ellie. You speak as if I’m some kind of attention whore.” it was as if your whole comment got ignored—at least for a moment. Ellie placed her calloused, rough hands under your thighs and yanked you towards her. A strained gasp left your throat from the force, it was nerve wracking; but arousing in away.

“Not far from it, sweetheart.” she murmured, ensuring your legs were wrapped around her waist securely before starting to kiss up your neck. Making sure she was in her rightful place between your thighs. “Look how you act when you’re not the center of attention.” You scoffed and tried to shoot her a dirty look, but she was clearly occupied. She kissed along your jawline in a way that made you feel wanted for the first time that day. The pecks you received seemed almost forced, but not reluctant. It was as if she was forcing herself to be gentle with you.

Your arms instinctively wrapped around her, tracing them up and down her back softly. There was no desire for roughness on your end, it was really only attention you wanted. You wanted more of her hands, more of her kisses, more of everything.

Ellie continued, the wet kisses she left were making your spine tingle. So passionate, but so angry. She bit down on your neck particularly hard, earning her a small hiss—you could feel the way her lips curled upwards against your neck. She sucked the sore part of your neck softly, almost teasingly. It was teasing in the way that it was as if it was a wordless apology for her roughness; but you knew better than that.

Ellie pulled away for a brief moment, making eye contact with you again. She kneaded the plush of your thighs in her hand like they were pillows, in a way that felt like they belonged to her. They did in a way, they looked so pretty in her hands, or wrapped around her waist, or around her head when she ate you out.

One of Ellie’s hands slid up to your inner thigh, her eyes still trained on you—watching you, piercing your irises with hers. It was as if she was taking apart your soul and searching for any remorse, or maybe she was just searching for any other reaction besides annoyance. She was finding it for sure, you were an open book. A small smirk crept up onto her lips when she looked at you, all you could do was gulp and furrow your eyebrow in response.

“Is this all you need to stay still, baby? You need me to wear you out?” she questioned, her expression was twisted into one of almost mock pity. The tone in her voice was so condescending, so mean. “That’s fine, just stay still and be good, yeah?”

Regardless—you ate it up. You were practically drooling when she spoke to you that way, and she knew it.

Ellie’s hands slid a bit further, moving to the left a bit to press against your clothed cunt—with far more pressure than necessary. You writhed under her hand, desperately searching for friction but also just feeling so twitchy from the sudden contact.

“Ellie, come on..” you urged, trying to rut your hips against her hand, in an act to chase friction and pleasure but also to convince her to actually please you. Ellie seemed unsatisfied by this act, she immediately pulled her hand away and placed it roughly on your hip, keeping you in place. When you still tried to wiggle, she brought her other hand up to your throat.

Your breath hitched—fuck, she was so hot it was painful. The way she eyed you made you want to melt in her hands.

“Do you not know what ‘stay still’ means? I don’t think you’re dumb, are you?” she asked, though it was more of a mocking thing than a question.

“I’ll give you what you want, but since you were such a fucking brat you have to wait.” her tone was so harsh, her hand pressing on your throat as a warning. she wasn’t actually trying to choke you, she just needed that shock factor.

Despite the roughness, you were practically frothing at the mouth, your cunt clenching with every squeeze, every word. The way she scolded you and looked at you in that angry way—it was so alluring. The way her toned bicep would flex when she squeezed your throat, or the way one eyebrow would furrow more than the other.

“Mmh, m’sorry.” you managed to mumble out, looking at her with pleading eyes. it seemed to work, because she did stop squeezing your throat a bit. Her hand lingered there, the one that was holding your hip went to the waistband of your shorts instead.

“You’re not sorry at all, sweetheart.” she tutted, slipping her thumb under the waistband in a slow, torturous manner. “But you’re gonna try and apologize so I’ll be soft with you, right?” it was a rhetorical question, she didn’t want you to answer it. Now both hands were on the lower half of your body, sliding under you to grip your ass. Her hands lingered there, squishing and kneading the flesh roughly.

With a swift motion, Ellie lifted you up a bit and worked both your shorts and panties off, dropping you back onto the desk when she was done. A small yelp left your lips, especially when even more things fell off the desk—this was getting old.

Ellie grabbed your thighs roughly, forcing them open. She eyed you like a piece of meat, but also like a work of art.

Her hands slipped in between your thighs, her fingertips brushing against your wet folds. Her lips curled into a slow, lopsided smirk—the eye contact was making this so much worse. You were so wet you thought you would leak all over her damn desk, your cunt ached with such need that only she could satisfy.

“Fucking soaked, and I thought you wanted me to be soft.” she scoffed, her ring and middle finger moving to your aching clit and tracing soft circles. “Do you like it when I’m mean to you?” she asked, looking at you with a devilish, expectant look in her eye as she worked your clit lazily.

You let out a soft whine in protest, wanting to rut against her fingers but realizing how bad of an idea that was. Her question was left unanswered, you were too busy panting and silently begging for her to give you more.

Ellie was unsatisfied, she pulled away just enough to land a slap on your clit. You cried out, your legs kicking softly in surprise—but not in an attempt to kick her away. She watched as your hole clenched around nothing, her fingers pressing against the wetness softly. “Or don’t answer, that’s fine. But I already know the answer by how wet you are for me.”

Without warning, she shoved her fingers inside your aching cunt. It wasn’t in a rough way, more of an impatient way. but you weren’t ready, especially since she didn’t even start you out with one.

“Ellie!” you cried out, the roughness to her movements was such a turn on. Her fingers moved in slow, scissoring motions, despite the rough start. You could feel her stretching you out, prepping you for something. You could feel your poor pussy stretching to accommodate the abrupt entrance of her fingers.

“Oh I know, baby. Feel good? Atta girl, you’re taking it so well.” she praised, the switches between comfort and degrading were confusing you—that’s exactly what she wanted to happen. “Greedy, look how you’re sucking me in.” she commented playfully, tilting your head down so you could actually watch her fingers working your poor hole. A string of weak whines left you from the sight, both from embarrassment and pleasure.

Ellie just shushed you, her fingers curling inside your warm heat and causing you to squirm a bit. “Shh, you’re fine, sweetheart. You wanted attention, right?” she asked, her eyes locked on yours, holding an almost uncomfortable amount of eye contact. “ Do you think I’m stupid enough to not notice you grinding on my thigh while i’m trying to play a game?” her voice was patronizing, so mean in the way that made you tied between the want to make her angrier or the want to make her softer.

“No..” you mumbled in response, trying to bury your face in her neck. There were wet squelching sounds every time she made a scissoring motion or delved in particularly deeper. You were in heaven, soft moans and pants escaping your throat—desperately looking for something to scramble and cling onto.

Ellie raised an eyebrow, she was unsatisfied, again. Not that she was actually angry—she just liked an excuse to be rough with you. Though that wasn’t too barbaric, you loved it.

She moved her hand up towards your neck again, you knew what was coming. She grabbed the side of it, squeezing a bit harder now. Her thumb was pressing against your trachea with enough pressure that made you feel nervous but turned on all at once.

“No? No what, baby? You can’t be that stupid already, my fingers can’t take away your literacy.” she mocked, it was just a filler question to make you feel stupid—to make you think. There was still that smirk on her face, the smirk that told you she was enjoying this, the smirk that told you how much she liked fingering you and watching you fall apart on something that was strictly hers.

The weak whines and moans that left you only fueled her, her fingers started fucking into you at an unnecessarily rough pace. Ellie wanted to make you see stars, and oh, you would.

When she started fingering you faster, all you could do was weakly grab onto her arms. One hand was on the bicep of the arm in charge of fingering you, while the other was on the one choking you. Your hands practically scrambled there, your thighs shaking and your hands squeezing her biceps as a means to ground yourself.

“Ellie, fuck! No—I don’t think you’re stupid!” you cried out, barely managing to choke out the words between pants and weak moans. The way her fingers were stretching you out was so addictive, you could feel yourself clamping down on them with every thrust, a coil in your stomach tightening unbearably. But she just looked at you, her eyes darting between your pussy sucking in her fingers and the needy expression on your face. Something in her eyes was just so sultry.

Ellie was addicted to the feeling of your walls around her fingers, sucking her as a silent plead for more. It was a beautiful sight, all she could do was let out a soft groan every time she could feel you tighten around her.

“Come on baby, do you wanna cum?” she taunted, a grin still on her face as she watched you fall apart, as her fingers worked your pussy like it was second nature, like she was meant to do it. Like every single thrust of her digits was a silent word, a word of belonging, everything you couldn’t sum your relationship up with in simple words. Like every moan validated how much you belonged to her.

“Beg for it, maybe I’ll be generous.”

And you did.

You nodded feverishly, both hands scrambling to the arm closest to your pussy, squeezing her bicep. “Please, Els! I need it, please just let me cum—shit!” you squeezed your eyes shut, but the pressure on your throat tightened. Your eyes flew open and you let out a weak yelp, in response, she immediately loosened her grip. “I’m..so close!”

You assumed that if you begged she’d she asked you to, she’d let you cum.

You were terribly mistaken.

Ellie watched with a smirk as your back arched, listened as your breathing got a bit deeper. And then as abrupt and as harsh as she started—she pulled her fingers out. You couldn’t believe it at first, your mind was far too clouded by pleasure to even process what happened. But when you came to your senses, you saw her smiling at you innocently—or not so innocently.

Did she seriously deprive you of orgasming even though she made you beg? How cruel.

“What the hell?!” you complained, you could already feel tears prickling in your eyes. You wanted to cum so bad, your cunt was aching so bad it hurt. All the blood had rushed there, making you hyper aware of how horny you actually were. Especially after being worked up like that.

Ellie frowned at you, though it wasn’t in sympathy; more of a mocking frown. “I said maybe I’d let you, are you that brain dead already?” she asked, popping her now sticky fingers into her mouth right in front of you, sucking them clean. “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t realize. I’ll help you think again when we’re done, yeah?”

A weak moan escaped your throat, stray tears streaming down your cheeks. She seemed a bit remorseful, but you couldn’t even think of the fact that could be false too. She stepped back a bit, stroking your hair comfortingly and kissing your forehead. “Stay put, sweetheart.” she commanded softly, before walking over to her nightstand.

Ellie crouched down to second drawer, that was the drawer. You immediately felt hopeful, it was obvious she was getting a toy. Your guess was right, she pulled out a green strap, one she used on you quite often—maybe she liked seeing her favorite color wreck your cunt by her own doing. Then she brought it over to you, setting it between your thighs as a tease, but you weren’t amused.

She quickly discarded her pants, throwing them in the same place she threw your attire beforehand. Ellie’s eyes were on you again, so intimidating but so sexy. You bucked your hips a bit, maybe trying to at least get to touch your clit to the toy near your sopping heat. It didn’t go unnoticed, though, Ellie immediately picked the strap back up and held it. There was a knowing smile on her face, it only grew when she brought the strap to your lips.

“Suck.” is all she said—plain and simple but direct in the most sensible way she could be. With slightly furrowed eyebrows and teary eyes, you opened your mouth. Ellie watched the way your tongue lolled out, immediately pushing the silicone into your mouth.

Weak groans escaped you as she pushed it further, your throat now struggling to accommodate the entrance.

“Open up your throat, baby.” she coaxed, moving to rub your neck softly. You bobbed your head up and down since she held it at an angle, looking at her through your eyelashes.

Ellie let out a groan, her hand moving from your throat to your face. She cupped both your cheeks, making you groan and stop bobbing your head. “Your lips look so pretty when you’re wrapped around things. Both lips are the same, i guess” she joked.

You actually laughed at that, causing you to gag on the silicone into your throat. She pulled it out after that, her eyes sparkling at the sight of drool connecting your lips to the toy. She needed to be inside you, she needed it now.

She immediately worked to slip it on, she was so used to the act of doing so it took little to no time at all. A shiver ran down your spine at the sight, it was ridiculous to be so experienced at putting. a fucking strap on.

Ellie didn’t immediately start ravaging you, which was unusual for her. She was never exactly known as a patient person, especially when it came to the idea of watching you squirm.

Instead, she plopped back down on her chair, her eyes looking up at you with a deep, sultry hint in her eyes. She simply smiled and patted her lap, beckoning you towards her with her pointer and middle finger. “C’mere, baby. ‘You wanna ride me?”

That was probably the sexist thing you had ever seen. Damn.

You were quick to hop off the desk, your legs trembling with sheer need. Arousal webbing between your thighs in a way that made you feel filthy. The whole room felt heavier, as if your clouded mind was contagious to the world around you.

Within seconds you were hovering over Ellie’s lap, your eyes darting between the strap and her naturally alluring eyes. She grabbed your hips softly, guiding you closer until the tip was splitting your folds apart like it was separating rose petals. With a gentle hold on you, she softly eased you down further. Your teeth clenched together a bit as you sank down onto the object, immediately clamping down on it tightly with both relief and slight spurn.

“Mmh, Ellie..” is all you could manage, your head tilting back a bit so you could sigh. She held your hips still, letting you adjust—or so you thought. Usually she’d start you off, bouncing you up and down in a way that had you questioning how much she likes maneuvering you and all your life choices.

But not this time, she simply held you still.

Even when you tried to do it yourself, thinking that’s what she wanted to see—she held you still. You immediately got antsy, the aching in your cunt couldn’t be ignored, it was throbbing with need. You were so horny, one more antic away from leaving to finish yourself off in the bathroom.

“Ellie, please? Why aren’t you letting me move?” you questioned, your voice was pleading but also a bit irritated. The way you just sat there with her strap inside you was torturous, you were sure your pussy would clamp so hard you wouldn’t be able to move if she let you.

“I don’t know, Do you deserve it?” Ellie asked, a sardonic and sarcastic tint in her tone.

How cruel was she? She already ripped an orgasm away from you and now she was denying you any pleasure? All because you nagged her for attention.

“..What?” you managed, your breathing a bit labored. With desperation, your hips tried to buck forwards and up and down and deeper—everywhere. But Ellie didn’t even let you move an inch, keeping your hips firmly situated.

This was absolute torture. Your eyes immediately prickled with tears again from sheer need.

“Do you deserve it? It’s a simple question, baby. I know you’re not that stupid.” she teased, tilting her head at you. “C’mon, my baby is so much better than that.”

You were dumbfounded, blinking at her with confusion and desperation as tears streamed down your face. Ellie offered you a pouty frown—though it was so obviously bullshit.

“Awh, baby. Don’t cry, maybe if you apologize I’ll be nice.” she suggested, her voice clearly hinting at you to act on that.

“Apologize? Why?” you asked, but you knew damn well why. Silently, you cursed yourself for dragging this conversation on instead of just apologizing. Your poor hole was throbbing so bad, it almost felt good—almost.

Ellie had such a condescending smirk on her face, but everytime you looked at her you’d clench around the strap. “Well, do you want to cum? I could make it so much worse if you don’t wanna cum..” she said, trailing her hands up and down your lower back, squeezing your ass, “You know, keep you all still for longer. I could just sit here and mold you around me.”

A weak noise crawled out of your throat, you immediately shook your head feverishly. “No, Els! I’m sorry for nagging you so much, please—please, I wanna cum!” you pleaded, a few stray tears spilling from your eyes.

Fortunately for you, Ellie seemed satisfied. She slid her hands back up to your hips, adjusting her grip on you. With that, she started bouncing you up and down at a slow pace. It was tortuously slow, but relief crashed over your body when you finally felt something.

“Good girl, see how easy it is?” she praised, which was obviously sarcastic again. She kept you going at a slow pace, bringing your hips down deep—but not deep enough. bringing you forward a bit to just barely brush against the devastating spot inside you—but still not enough. she practically had your body mapped out, something she took personal pride in.

This was torture for you, but in the best way. Your breathing was labored, your pussy gratefully sucking in the silicone, the plush of your flesh puffing besides the firm grip she had on you. It was intoxicating but depriving all at once.

“Els, please! I need more, I’m sorry!” you apologized again, your voice coming out more in hiccups rather than coherent words. Yet she seemed to understand anyway, she was used to seeing you in such a mess.

“Oh I know, baby. You’re so sorry, so, so sorry. It’s okay, sweetheart, I can’t fault you for just wanting attention.” her voice almost seemed softer now—a stark contrast to the event taking place. Ellie adjusted her grip on you once again, raising you you up and then slamming you back down.

A sharp cry left your throat at the sudden force, the tip kissing your cervix in a way that made you squirm. “F-fuck, baby!” you practically squealed, hearing a small laugh come from her as she watched you fall apart. Your sopping hole was sucking her in so good, she eventually loosened her grip on your hips so you could move on your own.

“You have such a pretty pussy, y’know? I love the way you suck me in like that.” she commented, her voice was low and full of whatever magic she had in her vocal cords that made your panties sticky every time she spoke. She almost felt like she could feel you sucking her in, but watching was just as satisfying.

You continued bouncing up and down on her strap, humiliating squelching sounds coming from between you and the silicone. The room was full of wet sounds, panting, huffing, moans, tension, and the ambiance of sex. Your lips were stuck in a parted opening, soft moans and gasps leaving you everytime you felt her deep inside you. Like she was making an imprint inside you, like she belonged inside your warm heat, like her eyes were drinking up all the juices from your cunt that she couldn’t.

“Just like that, you’d think you were made for riding me.” she joked her fingers moving to your tits. she circled her thumb around of of them softly, pausing to press down a bit harder. She moved towards the left one and licked it softly, relishing in the way you squirmed and moaned. She pinched and sucked at your nipples softly, but enough to keep you satisfied.

As much as Ellie adored watching you ride her, she wasn’t getting enough friction from it—she wasn’t the one supposed to be deprived of pleasure. She stilled your hips again, her fingers digging into the plush of your thighs firmly.

Before you could even grasp it, she pulled out of you. Her strap’s absence leaving you completely empty. You stumbled to your feet, but before you could even whine she was bending you over the desk. A gasp of air was squeezed out of your lungs as you were pushed down against the desk. She pushed your head into the wood, your cheek pressing against it as you writhed.

Without warning, Ellie slammed back into you. A sharp cry left your throat, both in surprise and from the feeling of her deep inside you again. Your face was smooshed into the desk, silencing you wordlessly. “Don’t whine, I know you love being stuffed.” she said, stroking your hair but keeping your head pinned down.

“Ugh..I can never get over this angle.” Ellie rasped, her voice was so husky and seductive. Despite her attempts to seem unaffected, she was biting her lip and panting behind you. It was hard to act so mean when you looked like this, when you were bent over a desk full of her, when you looked back at her with those lovely, pleading eyes.

Oh, she was just as much of a mess as you were.

Ellie started off slow, fucking into you with deep, satyric thrusts. Her eyes were trained on the way your sopping cunt sucked her in greedily every time, her mind full of thoughts she wouldn’t say out loud for once.

With ease, her hand slipped onto the back of your head, pulling it up by your hair. The way your back arched when she did so was so rousing. She moaned at the sight, her fingers caught, tangled in your beautiful hair. She couldn’t help but pick up the pace from the erotic sight, the friction of the strap rubbing against her clit made her sigh.

Your hands were sprawled out on the desk, desperately looking for something to help keep you up, to help you ground yourself from the object being thrusted in and out of your shaking body, the feeling was both addicting and overwhelming. Your hips tried to meet hers in the middle of each thrust, but you were becoming limp.

“You’re so pretty, baby. I should fuck you in front of a mirror sometime so you can see.” she suggested breathlessly, fucking you like an animal. Ellie’s thrusts were powerful, rough, deep, overwhelming—but also so fucking raw feeling. You felt as if she was rearranging something devastating inside you every time she’d hit the spot that made you want to scream.

“Els..fuck! Right there!” you managed to gasp out, the sound of skin slapping and wet squelching sounds from your pussy becoming all the more audible. Your eyes were seconds away from rolling back, you felt your stomach tighten in a way that was uncomfortable but delicious at the same time.

Ellie laughed, “Yeah? Good spot?” she said, trying to angle her hips in the spot that made you moan like that. She kept her hips angled there, her pelvis smashing against the plush of your ass with each thrust.

Ellie offered you a lopsided smirk, even if you couldn’t see it—you knew she was reeling with satisfaction. She tilted your head back further, the arch in your back only made her slide in deeper. “C’mon, I wanna hear you. Just like that..you sound so sweet, baby.” she groaned out, the pleasure building up in her as well. The way you moaned her name so breathlessly made her feral, it made her want to drive even more sounds out of you.

You couldn’t even think straight, all your mind was focused on was the feeling of your cunt being stretched perfectly for her, just in the way you knew she loved to see.

Ellie had memorized the way you’d tense up, the way you’d start your squirm, the way you’d try and fuck yourself against her when you were about to cum—you didn’t even have to warn her. “Are you close, babe? I’ll let you cum this time, promise.”

You immediately gasped, the hope you felt was almost sad. After that much torture, she had better let you cum. “Yes—please! I’m so close, don’t stop!”

“Yeah? ‘You gonna cum for me? Go ahead, lemme see it.”

That was all you needed, the raspiness, monotonous but needy tone of her voice always made you clench. Your head tilted back a bit further, pressing up against her fingers tangled in your hair. A long string of moans left you, majority of which were pathetic gasps of her name. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, a release of tingling sensations bursting through your body all at once.

Ellie watched in awe as your walls spasmed around her strap, it was a sight that never got old, with a few more thrusts, she hung her head low and groaned, cursing and biting her lip as she also finished. She’d always had such an embarrassing orgasm face—so she usually hid it.

It wasn’t embarrassing, it was just adorable in the way it was so slutty. Adorable in the way she tried to act so mean but when she came—she just fell apart.

Both of you just remained there for a moment, panting and trying to catch your breath. Soaking up all the remaining pleasure and energy from the room around you. Your mind felt hazy, you felt like all your brain cells were gone the moment you came—perhaps gone in the humiliating amount of liquid arousal between your thighs.

Ellie pulled out soon enough, groaning as she saw your stretched out pussy staring at her. She put her hands on your shoulders, guiding you to stand up straight. You stumbled into her chest, hands scrambling to grip at her shirt for stability. She just laughed, kissing the top of your head tenderly like she didn’t just fuck your brains out and be a bitch to you.

You held her back, burying your face in her neck and groaning. All you could think about was the wetness webbing between your thighs and the smell of your girlfriend.

Ellie cleared her throat, rubbing your back softly. “Let me clean you up.” she said tenderly—before ruining it. “Wanna watch me play my game? I learned something super cool.”

You were absolutely dumbfounded, was she serious?

“You’re fucking ridiculous.” you commented, sighing into her neck weakly.

Ellie blinked and stared at the floor, registering your answer into her brain—poorly, might I add.

“So..yes?”

“You’re so insufferable.”

TAGS!! <3 @valeisaslut (50x) @eriiwaiii2 @haithone @usuck

A/N - this is kind of ass, i apologize. been struggling to write for some reason, FORGIVE MEEE. anywho, i hope you all have a nice easter!

#ellie williams #wlw #ellie williams tlou #lesbian #tlou part 2 #ellie williams imagine #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #wlw love

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oreo-creampies · 14 days ago

Text

𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluff, slightly suggestive groping (thigh) with toji and mention of his dick being half hard - nothing happens, plenty of gentle kisses, all of them are soft for you why wouldn't they be look at yourself, establish relationship

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

Turning your head, muffling your yawn in Kento's chest covered by the softest sweater. "Mm stealing this sweater when you're done with it. You'll get it back when it no longer smells like you." Kento shuts off the TV, setting the remote underneath the side table lamp behind his head.

"How is this? I'll carry you to bed and you can sleep in my sweater. You need to get some good sleep." Yawning in response, tears blurring your eyes. Your jaw aching from how wide your mouth stretches from the sheer force of the yawn.

Slipping the blanket off of you, laying it over the back of the sofa. Kento sits up, wrapping an arm around your waist. Supporting you with a large hand on your ass. "Please, thank you Ken." Looping an arm around his broad shoulders, slipping your fingers into the nape of his sandy blonde hair.

Kento kisses the top of your head. "I love you so much beautiful, thank you for making this place a home. Can't think of going to bed without you by my side." Kissing the side of your head, hugging you tightly.

"I love you too handsome. It wouldn't be a home without you. The scent of your bread, the scent of your cologne lingering in the bathroom." Closing your eyes unable to keep them open anymore. Using all your energy to express, "Your coffee cups, books, house plants, and sweaters, everything. I love you."

Kento holds you with one arm, pulling the covers back. Leaning down, laying you down with care. "I'm deeply in love with you, and I fall again every day and night. With every smile, laugh, hug and kiss." He slips his sweater off, setting it on the edge of the bed next to you.

Slipping his arm underneath your waist and lifting your chest up. You hold your arms up for him to slip his sweater onto you. Before you lay down, Kento covers you in the soft blanket. Lovingly kissing your forehead, cheeks, and lips, tucking the blanket in along one side.

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

Turning off the tv. "You're adorable falling asleep on me, am I comfortable?" Kissing his neck, he softly sighs, tilting his head to the side. Slowly trailing lazy kisses up his neck, slipping your fingers into his hair.

Sliding your fingers through his hair. "The coziest." Gliding his large hand down your back cupping your ass. Wrapping his arm around your shoulders. Keeping the blanket from slipping when he slowly stands up.

Gently urging you to, "Never let me go, let's cuddle till we have to get out of bed for food. Then you can hug me from behind when I make us some breakfast." Flicking off the living room light. The moonlight coming the patio's glass doors lighting Suguru's way towards the hallway.

You mumble, "Will you feed it to me?" Suguru chuckles, his chest rumbling. Wrapping his arm around your waist, hugging you. You're too tired to reciprocate with more than a squeeze of your legs around his waist soaking in Suguru's love.

"Yes my queen can have whatever she wants. You can sit in my lap when I do." Climbing onto the bed, kneeling, sliding the curtain behind the bed's headboard shut. Slipping the throw blanket off of you, setting it balled up on the side table.

Laying down with you on his chest, you barely unwrap your legs, straddling his hips. Deciding Suguru's thick pecs are the perfect pillow. The steady beating of his heart is comforting. Pulling the blanket up over his and yours's body, arranging the pillow underneath his head.

Sliding his hand from your cheeks to your soft thigh. Resting his other hand on your back. "I want to wake up with you sleeping on me like this. You're adorable clinging to me." Kissing the top of your head. "I hope I dream of you. To see your beautiful face eyes closed or open is my personal heaven."

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

Flicking on the lamp on the side table near your head. Wrinkling your nose, your lips twisting in disgust at the light piercing through your sleep. "Aw you fell asleep waitin' on me how cute. I tuck ya up in bed, have a few, and then I"ll come lay down." Smiling at Toji's deep voice, taking a moment to process at he said.

Peeling the covers back, his eyes widen. "Fuck I should've gotten here sooner." Squeezing your thigh gripped by the garter belt. "Not only do I get to come home to you, but you look cozy and sexy. My shirt looks surprisingly good with these garters." Lifting you off the soft, holding you to his chest.

Kissing your forehead. "I bet that's 'cause you're the one wearin' 'em." Wrapping your arm around his neck, pressing your face into his hard pec. Softly biting. "'s that for being late. "m sorry like make it up to ya tonight. Won't let you go once; I'll be your big teddy bear." Smiling at Toji, you've missed the comfort of his arms.

Setting you down in bed, flicking on the lamp. "Mm teddy bear, missed you, your meanie being late by six hours. Worried." Toji turns around facing the pile of clothes in the hamper.

Struggle to keep your eyes open, for the sake of watching him peel his tight black shirt off. His thick arms flex, the muscles in his back tensing. Slipping his sweats off, turning around his cock half hard. "Sweetheart I'll always come back to ya, gotta put some more trust in me. Love ya too much doll."

He climbs into bed, pushing his baggy shirt up. "Love ya too teddy bear." Gently taking the garter belt off. Trailing kiss along the inside of your thigh. Throwing them onto the floor.

You slide your fingers through Toji's dark hair. He lifts its head, admiring you in his shirt before flicking off the light. Leaning down kissing your forehead, softly squeezing your hip, pressing his hard body to yours. His weight presses you into the bed momentarily. Rolling onto his back, pulling you into his side.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

You’re defeated, unable to open your eyes. The coziness of your head in his lap, his long fingers gently undoing your curls into a poofy mess. The tv has become a distance hum, the words becoming unintelligible.

Lightly poking your cheek. Smiling down at you admiring your beautiful face. He glances down at your lips. “You're such a sleepy princess!" Leaning down for a gentle, loving kiss. Which partly misses your lips from the angle he's at.

Using all your energy to smile up at him, your eyelids glued shut. "I can take your clothes off, and hold you close so I feel your warm soft body next to mine.” He lifts your head up, gently lying it down on the sofa. Standing up and scooping you up into his arms, holding you to his bare chest.

Satoru croons "You're definitely tired if you're not taking the chance to thank your heroic wonderful boyfriend in kisses when I'm saving you from walking." Slowly turning your head towards his chest and lazily puckering up your lips.

"Mwaaaa!" A yawn stretches out your kissing sound effect. Followed by an exaggerated one from Satoru. "Mwa." Your second one is barely audible.

"Aw beautiful you're making me sleepy too." There is a soft thud from his foot nudging the bedroom door open wider. "I need to show you how to properly cover someone in kisses before I go to bed. So you'll have to stay awake a few minutes longer." Laying you down on your side of the bed.

Climbing on top, straddling your hips, cupping your face. His palm is warm, and the gentle, slow swipes of his thumb are soothing. "Let me see your pretty eyes one more time so I can see them in my dreams." Opening one eye, then another.

Satoru chuckles, "What a beautiful frog my love is! I'd love you if you were a worm. But would you love me if you were a worm, and I was a bird?" When you don't respond within seconds. He cries, "You hate me!" Slipping your fingers into his snow-white hair, and pulling him in for a sleepy, gentle kiss.

Oreo’s m.list

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gloomwitchwrites · 9 months ago

Note

I'm in a roll....

The 141 in grey sweatpants. 🥵

You're in a roll? Me too. A brioche roll. Or maybe a Hawaiian roll. Or rolled inside one of Price's many cigars. Kidding (not really). I knew what you meant.

And grey sweatpants...yes please! I am salivating over here. Literally drooling. And it's only grey sweatpants. No shirts. No shoes. Just sweatpants and muscle. (my god I need to go touch grass).

These are...spicy. How could they not be? It's our favorite men in nothing but grey sweatpants.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, suggestive themes, swearing, invitations for sex, dirty thoughts, sexual situations, married life, fade to black

Word Count: 2k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“It’s bedtime. Bath. Pajamas. Teeth.”

“But Dad! Lucy and I—”

“Bed.” You grin into your glass as John ushers the children out of the living room. “Come on you two. I want to kiss your mother.”

“Ew. Gross!” the kids screech in unison.

The trio disappears down the hallway. You hear water running and the laughter of your children. John eventually emerges thirty minutes later. He runs his hand over the top of his head, sighing heavily.

When he enters the living room and notices you, he grins mischievously. His body is on full display. Broad chest with a lovely dusting of dark hair that trails downward to disappear beneath the band of his grey sweatpants. John is all thick muscle. A wall of strength. You’ve always loved that about him. How he seems to take up so much space or the way he crushes you with his body when he goes in for a snuggle.

John plops down on the sofa beside you. The moment his ass hits the cushion, John grabs for you. You giggle, playfully pushing at your husband as his weight tips you back, pinning you to the sofa.

“The kids,” you protest with a whisper.

“They’re sleeping,” he replies just as softly, keeping you pressed beneath him.

John goes in for a kiss. It is sweet. Slow. Deep. Completely indulgent. There is so much of him. And his scent is everywhere. It fills your lungs. Makes you weak.

Your lips part and John slips his tongue inside. You start to soften, to lean into his kisses. Each is salt-laced passion. A tease for later. He might have you pinned against the couch, and his tongue down your throat, but John will move this behind a locked door.

As John goes in for another kiss, the sound of a door unlatching comes from the hall. John freezes and you go still beneath him.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters.

Pushing up to a more seated position, John addresses the offender with a raised voice. “You best be in bed.”

There’s a gentle squeak, and then a door closing.

John sinks back down, resting his forehead against yours. He sighs heavily, and you give him a quick kiss. He returns it, and then snakes an arm under your back. He hauls you up and into his lap. You straddle him, hands pressed against his firm chest.

Through the sweatpants, you can feel his hardness pressing against your thigh. John’s hands roam downward to cup your buttocks, squeezing.

“Ready to take this elsewhere?” he asks, grinding his hips upward.

You have to stifle a moan.

“Please, John.”

With a light slap to your ass, he lifts you off his lap and onto your feet. The ground is solid. Steady. But then John’s hands return, and then you’re away, being guided down the hall to your bedroom.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You snuggle into the couch and crack open your paperback book.

Everything is in order. You have a glass of wine, a bowl of snacks, the tableside lamp on, and a cozy blanket. It’s late, but it’s officially the weekend. There will be plenty of time to relax.

“Reading out here?”

You glance up, and find Kyle in the entrance of the hallway, leaning against the wall. He’s shirtless. Without shoes. Just him, his freshly showered skin, and a pair of grey sweatpants. Kyle absently scratches at his chiseled stomach, head slightly tilted as he waits for your answer.

You can’t help but focus in on every line of muscle.

“Babe,” he prompts, laughing.

“Sorry?” you reply, blinking.

Kyle laughs again, the sound sweet. He strides forward, coming to a stop beside the sofa. He taps the side of his mouth. “Got some drool.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you giggle, checking with a quick wipe with the back of your hand.

Kyle’s smile is infectious. You can’t help but match it.

“Can I join you?” he asks, already lifting the blanket.

“You’re not going out with the boys?”

Kyle shakes his head. With one hand he lifts the blanket, and with the other he grabs your legs and lifts. He slides in, and drapes your legs over his lap before returning the blanket to drape over your body. Keeping one hand under the blanket, Kyle rests his hand on your inner thigh. It stirs heat in your core.

“Tomorrow,” he yawns. “Simon has a sick kid.”

“Bummer.”

Kyle shrugs, draping his over arm over the back of the couch. His hand on your thigh is a brand, and it’s only made worse when he starts massaging.

“Is it a spicy one?” asks Kyle, nodding toward your book.

Yes.

“Maybe,” you say slowly.

Kyle smirks, and then the book is out of your hand.

“Kyle!” You reach for it, but he twists, blocking your forward momentum.

He examines the pages in front of him. Heat rushes into your cheeks. As he reads, his eyes widen.

Kyle’s mouth drops open.

“What?” you prompt. You try to snag the book but he blocks you.

He glances at you. “Are you aware of where he’s putting that gun?”

“It’s fictional.”

“When you ask me to recreate things—”

“Kyle—”

“—is this what you’re talking about?” His gaze goes from you to the book and then to you again. “I’m down for a lot of things, love, but I’m not sure I’m down for that.”

Pushing off from the couch, you snatch the book out of Kyle’s hands. He surrenders it easily, a smile on his perfect face. The blanket is a crumbled mess beside him, but that’s not what you’re focused on.

The grey sweatpants have shifted, exposing more of the deep v of his pelvis. But it’s not just that. Kyle is hard. That is very clear.

He leans against the back of the couch, throwing both arms out to rest over the top. Flexing his hips, Kyle puts himself on display.

“I’ve got something else I can put inside you.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

A delighted shriek comes from the kitchen.

Johnny emerges, completely unbothered even with the two children in his arms. He has the oldest child, who just turned five, sideways and tucked under one arm. The boy has a wicked smile of his face even as he wiggles, trying to free himself from his father’s grasp. It’s fruitless.

The other child, a boy of three, keeps shrieking with delight even as Johnny lifts him into the air by his ankle. He is upside down, arms flailing, his brown hair hanging below him.

Johnny doesn’t even blink. Doesn’t even break a sweat. He carries the two of them like it’s nothing.

He’s almost completely naked except for a pair of grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips. They show off the deep v of his pelvis, and the dusting of dark hair that spreads over his chest and descends downward. You’ve touched that chest so many times. You know it as well as you know yourself.

Johnny’s gaze is on the television, watching the football match. The kids still shriek and playfully claw at him. But he remains unbothered.

Sitting there on the sofa, you consider that a third kid might not be so bad. You’d give him a small army if he asked.

Johnny glances away from the television, and when his gaze lands on you, it is entirely knowing. Heat curls in your belly, and his smile widens.

“Found these gremlins digging in the pantry,” he says, indicating the kids by hoisting the three-year old higher into the air and squeezing the other tighter against him.

Both kids giggle manically.

“After brushing their teeth.” Johnny tuts. “What’s to be done?”

Both children continue to giggle, not answering their father.

“Sounds like it’s time for bed,” you muse.

The children groan.

“But I’m not tired,” moans the five-year old.

“Too bad,” laughs Johnny. “Come on.”

He doesn’t put them down. He carries them like that all the way to their bedroom. Even from your spot on the sofa, you can hear their manic giggling. After a while, it quiets down, and Johnny emerges from the hall.

Instead of sitting down on the couch next to you, he grabs the remote and shuts off the television.

“Not interested in the game?” you ask.

“Nope. Want something else.”

His sultry smile tells you enough.

Slowly, he approaches, coming to a stop in front of you. He offers his hand, and you take it. With little effort, Johnny brings you to your feet, and hauls you close. Your free hand immediately rises, pressing against his chiseled stomach.

“What is it that you want?” you murmur, already knowing the answer.

His hardness presses against your belly, his voice going low and gravelly as he speaks. “I’d like to spend some time between those gorgeous thighs.”

“Doing what?”

“Whatever I very well please.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

This is agony. A terrible joke.

Simon is right there. Sweaty. Shirtless. In nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants.

He’s completely in the zone. Heavy metal blares through the stereo’s speakers, drowning out the sound of his gloved fists striking the punching bag. Morning light pours in from the open window, giving Simon an ethereal glow.

You watch from the doorway, chewing on your bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to pounce on him. Simon is all muscle, and not in a gym rat way. He is thick everywhere. You want to lick the sweat from his skin, to drop to your knees before him, and tug those grey sweatpants down.

You know what you’d find. And it sounds delicious.

But he is in the zone. And you won’t disturb him.

Pushing down the naughty thoughts, you start to turn away, to return to the kitchen and find something to eat for breakfast.

The music abruptly cuts off.

“See something you like, love?”

Simon’s raspy voice draws you back to the room. With one hand on the doorframe, you meet his gaze, and promptly melt into the floor. He has a cocky grin on his face, and his shoulders heave slightly from exhaustion.

You lick your lips. “Always,” you reply, fingers digging into the wood.

Simon’s gaze scans you. You feel exposed, like he can see through your clothes. It’s knowing. Amused.

“What is it?” you prompt, staring just as hard as he is.

Simon removes one glove and then the other. He tosses them to the side, never taking his eyes off you.

“Come here,” he says.

You don’t move.

Simon arches a single eyebrow. Instead of repeating himself, he gestures with one finger, indicating that he wants you to come to him.

Heat rushes from your cheeks down to your toes. Slowly, you peel yourself away from the door, heading for him. Simon’s natural swagger is alluring, and those sweatpants sit so low.

Just one tug. That’s all it would take. And you’d be able to take him in your mouth.

As you approach, Simon reaches out, grabbing your waist, tugging you close to him. You instinctually hook your finger in the waistband of his grey sweatpants.

Simon smirks.

You inhale deeply, savoring the manly musk of him.

“Hungry?” he asks.

“Not for breakfast,” you sigh.

“For something else then?”

You nod.

Simon leans in but doesn’t kiss you. He holds back slightly, lips curved into a hint of a smile. “Want to hear what I have in mind?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

Simon presses his thumb on your bottom lip. “I can fill that mouth.” His thumb drops away from your lips, and trails over your chin before brushing over your stomach. “And belly.”

His gaze stays on you. “What do you think of that, love?”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

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@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@taysarchive @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

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fireinmoonshot · 2 months ago

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touchy | joaquin torres x reader

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Reader Summary: Joaquin has a thing where he always likes to have a hand on you whenever you're together – holding your waist, holding your hand, a hand resting on your thigh. You finally decide to confront him about why. Warnings: Mentions of food, a kind of spicy make-out scene. Word Count: 1.6k A/N: I had this idea and I just had to write it. It's shorter than my other Joaquin fics but I had so much fun writing it and I really just wanted to get something else for Joaquin out for you guys! Please send in requests for him if you have any! 💗

One thing you never expected when you started dating Joaquin Torres was how touchy the man was – there was barely any time when the two of you were together when he wasn’t touching you in some way.

It surprised you at first. He never came across as that kind of person. He was the definition of a Golden Retriever boyfriend. But then you’d be standing with him at a party and you’d feel his hand wrap around your waist, or whenever you had to cross the road, he’d hold your hand (not unlike your parents used to do when you were a child), or when you were at home watching a movie on the couch, his hand would rest on your thigh.

After several months of this, you finally decided to ask him why.

“Joaquin, can I ask you something?” You call from where you’re sitting in the living room, your eyes flickering up from the book that was on your lap – the one you’ve been trying to read and failing, owing to the fact that your boyfriend has been strutting around your apartment shirtless ever since he got out of the shower.

“Course you can, angel,” he calls back from the kitchen.

Out of the two of you, Joaquin is the cook of the family. You hadn’t trusted him in the kitchen at first – he had always seemed the type of person to accidentally chop off a finger because he was too distracted. But so far, no such accidents had occured and he was much better at making a delicious meal than you were.

You were quick to close your book and get up from the couch, padding through the hallway into the kitchen to see him standing at the bench, chopping something up on a cutting board in front of him – still irritatingly shirtless.

“Cooking shirtless is dangerous, you know,” you say, announcing your presence.

His eyes flicker up towards you. “For you or for me?”

You give him a look. “For you, pretty boy. I’m not the one holding the knife.”

Joaquin grins at you before putting the knife down, wiping his hands on the cloth on the bench beside him and grabbing the apron hanging over the back of one of your bar stools. “Should I put this on then? Someone clearly isn’t enjoying the show.”

“Baby,” you roll your eyes at him jokingly, crossing the room and snatching the apron out of his hands. “You know that’s not what I meant. I meant you could get burned by oil or slip and cut yourself or… well… there are plenty of dangers to cooking shirtless.”

Joaquin smirks, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to his chest so you’re pressed together. “Angel, all those things you just listed are also things that could happen to me if I were wearing a shirt. You know that, right?”

You can’t help the way you pout at him. “Not my point, Joaquin.”

He grins and presses a quick peck to your lips. “Was that what you were coming in here to talk about?” He asks, his thumb swiping gently back and forth over your waist.

“No, actually,” you hum. “I was coming here to talk about this.” You motion in-between the two of you, at the contact between your bodies. You’re not not a fan of it – of course you love it – but it does amuse you, the fact that your boyfriend always wants to have a hand on you at all times.

Joaquin raises his eyebrows. “We playin’ charades? Am I meant to guess?”

You laugh a little. “No, silly. This. The way I walked into the kitchen and you swept me up into your arms immediately. The way you always have a hand on my back when we walk somewhere. The way you put your hand on my thigh when we’re on the couch. The way you’re touching me all the time.”

Irritatingly, your words have the opposite effect than intended and Joaquin steps away from you, removing his hand from your waist. You immediately miss the warmth of his body, the feeling of his hand on your waist, and almost reach back out for him.

“You don’t like it?” Joaquin asks, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

You hate the look on his face – the way he looks like a wounded puppy. His usually playful eyes look sad, full of fear and you can read his expression immediately. He thinks that by doing these things, he’s made you uncomfortable.

“Baby, no – I love it!” You attempt to rectify the situation. “I just was curious about why.”

Unable to keep looking at his sad puppy dog eyes anymore, you step forward, cupping his cheeks in your hands gently. His hands tentatively rest on your waist, as if he’s afraid you’re going to move away at any second but he simply can’t help but to touch you, just a little.

“You’re so touchy and I love it, Joaquin. I love having your hands on me all the time, I swear. Just now when you took your hands off my waist it was like… like it was suddenly winter and I was freezing cold without them. I just wanna know why you do it,” you explain further, making sure you keep eye contact with him.

Joaquin frowns a little. “I guess I never really thought about it,” he replies. “I think I kinda just do it without meaning to. I just love the feeling of having my hands on you, feeling your warmth, reminding myself that you’re beside me. And I mean…” He clears his throat. “Have you seen yourself, angel? Why would I not wanna touch you at any given opportunity?”

It’s like his confidence makes a return to his body, then. His grip on your waist gets tighter and he pulls you closer, forcing you to drop your hands from his face. They rest on his shoulders instead as he backs you up a little so you’re leaning against the counter. His body is pressed against yours again, like it was only minutes ago. The warmth you’d missed before falls over you like a sheet of pure comfort.

You can’t keep the smile off your face at his words and actions. “That’s kinda cute, Joaquin,” you admit. “That you do it without thinking about it. Like I said, I love the feeling of you having your hands on me too.”

“Cute?” Joaquin looks at you with raised eyebrows. “You think I’m cute?”

It’s hard not to smile at his tone. “Yeah, adorable. You’re like a little puppy. You were looking at me before with the most puppy dog eyes I’ve ever seen on a person. You looked so sad, I just wanted to pick you up and–”

Before you can finish speaking, Joaquin cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours. You moan at the sudden feeling of his lips, the feeling of his tongue swiping against your bottom lip. The way that his hands grip your waist tighter, one of them roaming up your back to grasp at the back of your neck so he can kiss you deeper.

The edge of the counter digs into your back but you barely even notice the feeling. One of your hands moves to run through Joaquin’s hair – it’s short, but long enough for you to grip, the other on his back. The feeling of his muscles against your palm only makes you want to kiss him more. The last thing you want to do is break apart for air.

Your breath hitches as he squeezes your waist again, forcing your lips apart. Both of you are breathing heavily, though the break doesn’t last long. Joaquin wastes no time in kissing you again, but this time his lips move from yours to your jaw. He presses soft, gentle kisses along the side of your jaw and down your neck. You tilt your head backwards, giving him better access. When your hand grasps onto his hip, he gasps a little and you can’t help but smile at the sound.

“See?” You mutter breathlessly, tilting your head forward again to meet his eyes. “I told you that cooking while shirtless was dangerous.”

Joaquin laughs at that, a gorgeous smile finding its way onto his face. You look at him, at the sweat on his forehead, the look of lust and love in his eyes, the way his chest moves up and down quickly, his breath still heavy from your small make out session. He’s easily the most gorgeous man you’ve ever laid eyes on… and he’s all yours.

He moves his hands down to your waist again and before you can do anything about it, he’s lifting you up so you’re sitting on the counter and pushing your legs apart so he can stand in-between them. At this angle, you’re basically the same height.

“I see no problems here, angel,” he flashes that gorgeous grin again before messily pressing his lips to yours again. He pulls away quickly though, much to your disappointment. “Now that we’ve established that I’m not cute, I am going to continue cooking you dinner. I’ll let you go back to your book.”

“Oh no,” you shake your head, turning to watch him as he returns to the cutting board. “I have a much better view right here than I do in the living room, baby. Besides, someone has to supervise you to make sure you stay safe while cooking like that… it’s bound to be a hard job but I’m pretty certain I’m up to the challenge...”

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #captain america brave new world #captain america brave new world x reader #joaquin torres x you

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cherrygarcia-07 · 2 months ago

Text

Cat Fights // Spencer Reid🐾💗

summary: an outsider to the team witnesses spencer and reader arguing over who gets to pick up their baby, except it’s not quite what he thinks.

pairing: spencer reid x bau! reader

genre: idk man this was just cute and funny to me

content: established relationship, not serious bickering, a glimpse of domestic! spencer

word count: 0.9k

masterlist

——————————————————————————❤️——————————————————————————

It had been a long case and the team were all exhausted, slumped in chairs in the police precinct while they waited until it was time to leave for the jet home. One of the Chicago police officers entered the room carrying cups of coffee, much to everyone’s delight as they perked up in their seats eager for the bittersweet boost of caffeine. Silence stretched over the room, everybody too drained to even think of anything to say- that was until your voice broke through the empty atmosphere as you turned to your boyfriend.

‘When we get back would you mind taking over my paperwork so I can go and get Bella from the neighbour a little earlier?’ You asked before murmuring a thank you to the police officer as he handed you your coffee.

Spencer’s brows furrowed for a split second before he answered, ‘why can’t we just pick her up together when we’re finished?’

‘No, Spence, you know she won’t sleep in her own bed if we’ve been away for too long.’ You took a long swig of your coffee.

‘What’s the harm in letting her into bed with us? It’s nice after being away from her. Beneficial, in fact. There’s been numerous studies on the effects of-’

‘She’s gotta learn sometime, honey.’ You sighed, cutting him off because you knew you were too weak in your tired state to defend yourself against his rambling that always made you crumble.

The officer chuckled as he took a seat across the room next to Rossi to discuss the prior case, but he kept his eyes on the two of you, somewhat amused.

Spencer took a sip of his own drink, reaching into his bag for a book to read while he spoke. ‘She’ll be fine for a couple hours more. We left her with plenty of toys to keep her busy, anyway.’

‘But you know they only last her so long before she misses us and starts getting antsy and acting out. The neighbour’s been so kind to look after her again, I don’t want Bella giving her any trouble.’ You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you watched him flick through his book at lightning speed. ‘I’ll just pick her up, you’ll get through the paperwork much faster than me anyway. Besides, I bet she’s missed me the most, she’ll be happy to see me.’

At this, Spencer slammed his book shut and practically threw it onto the table, mouth hanging open as his eyebrows furrowed once again.

‘You? Please, we both know she always misses me the most. Actually, maybe I should go pick her up early-’

‘Yeah? What makes you say that, genius?’ You interrupted, scoffing at his audacity.

A smug look washed over his face as he placed his cup of coffee next to his haphazardly discarded book. ‘Contrary to popular belief,’ he began, accusing eyes scanning the team around you both, ‘I’m actually the fun parent. You’re far too strict with her, I give her extra snacks throughout the day.’

Crossing your arms over your chest, you narrowed your eyes at him. ‘Yes and that’s why we were scolded at her last appointment, doctor.’ Sarcasm dripped off of that last word as it left your mouth.

‘Ah yet when we get home whose lap is it she curls up on while I read to her?’ Spencer picked his book up in one hand, mischievously waving it in the air with a smirk, earning a light laugh from the officer who was still watching. ‘If one of us is picking her up, it should be me.’

‘You’re not even her real father, Spencer.’

At this, the officer’s wide smile abruptly dropped, alarmed by the harsh words he’d just heard and worried that this seemingly innocent domestic dispute was quickly souring. His eyes frantically darted around the room, expecting a member of your team to step in but he was baffled to find not one of them even remotely phased, not even reacting as they each focused on their own things. On edge, he turned his gaze back to the two of you.

‘How dare you, and after I’ve graciously opened up my home and accepted Bella as my own.’ Spencer tutted, shaking his head with one hand dramatically clasped over his heart.

‘Well I’m her mother, and what I say goes.’ You shrugged, slamming your own coffee cup on the table for emphasis as you rose to your feet and began heading out of the room with Spencer following in tow.

It was Spencer’s turn to scoff as he retorted, ‘well don’t call me when she’s refusing to eat because you won’t make her food how she likes it.’

‘Excuse me for actually having our babies’ dietary needs in mind. You’re supposed to be a doctor, mind you.’ A grin pulled at your lips and you couldn’t hold it back from spreading across your face.

‘I know but I just can’t say no to that little face of hers,’ he cooed, a small pout on his lips and your voices began to fade as you got further from the room, ‘it’s those big eyes…’

The officer allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief at the lightened mood, chuckling softly as he shook his head, turning to face Rossi beside him.

‘I take it Bella’s their daughter?’

Rossi sighed now, one of boredom as he’d experienced this argument God knows how many times before, and he replied- monotonously.

‘Their cat.’

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid oneshot #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #matthew gray gubler

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thoughtsforsoob · 3 months ago

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how ateez shows their gf princess treatment <3

note: I hope this work finds you well! I really want to make this look good so please let me know if anything should be edited. Thank you and please enjoy.

hongjoong

you're his PRINCESS! he takes it so seriously too. he puts a ring on your finger as soon as possible and treats you like actually royalty. is at your beck and call 24/7. his fsvorite thing to do is take you to events and show you off to all his friends and colleagues. "this is my wife. isn't she so beautiful? shes so smart and talented too." will show you off to anywhere and everyone. he's just so in love with you. he also let's you into his studio and has a special chair for you and plenty of pillows and blankets.

seonghwa

dresses you up in the finest clothing ever. sure, if you already have your clothes that you like that arent from any big name brands, he's not gonna toss them out or anything. he's only going to add your collection. designer bags, clothes, shoes, and even glasses if you wear them. he'll deck you out in only the more coveted brands.

yunho

he will turn off any game for you at any time if you ask for his attention. he wouldn't do this for anyone else but you. you're his special princess so you take priority over his games. he also teaches you all about his hobbies and take you to all the cool pop up's and museums. if you want anything, he always makes sure to get it for you.

yeosang

takes care of you with everything! literally everything. he may be a busy idol but he makes sure you take your vitamins, do your morning and night routines, take a little bit of personal time, and everything else. if you're studying, he'll make sure you take a break. he'll run your a warm bath and make you something to eat after. he gives mother hen vibes but it's not in an annoying, naggy way. he just loves you and want's to make sure you're healthy.

san

picks you up and carries you everywhere. he's so strong and he loves showing off his strength to you. if you're siting on the couch, minding your own business, he'll throw you over his shoulder and take you up to your shared bed room. he also carries everything for you, especially shopping or grocery bags. his princess should never carry anything.

mingi

buys everything for you! mingi needs a gf that is okay with him paying for everything but he will literally lose it if you pay for him. he has the mindset that dudes should pay for everything and take care of their partners, but it's not like in a toxic way where he won't let you work or anything. he would just prefer that your money goes towards spoiling yourself (although you never need to because he spoils you so much).

wooyoung

i have two for him so hang on tight. wooyoung is such a romantic and i cannot express that enough, first of all, he drives you everywhere! he would rather get hit by a train than let you ride the said train all alone. if he can drive you, he is going to drive you. also...he lovesss taking you on 3-4 day trips around the world. he takes you to paris, tokyo, la, Shanghai....everywhere! takes care of everything too. ugh i want my own wooyoung (im so scared of driving please drive me!)

jongho

he lets you sit on his lap. even if you get shy or complain that you're too heavy. he lterally does not care. he will pull you down onto his lap and bear hug you so you can't get up or leave. he thinks you look so cute and just like a princess when you're sitting on his lap.

#ateez #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fic #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader

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hyeinette · 3 months ago

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✿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗆𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝗆𝖾!⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ─── ⠀ their fav places to be kissed by you.

f!r⠀ ♡ ⠀ est relationship fluff kissing skinship 𝑓.⠀ ───⠀ 16OO >ᴗ<

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𝑙𝑖𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑟𝑦⠀⠀⠀୨୧ ⠀⠀⠀𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀⠀〝⠀ 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚⠀⠀⠀𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠

"just one more, please.” heeseung asked, though there was no question in his tone.

you’d kissed him again for the somethingth time that night. at first, it started out chaste, so how you were now on your boyfriend’s lap kissing him like there was no tomorrow was beyond your knowledge.

“hee, i really need to—” your words were muffled and fruitless against his lips.

heeseung knew it’d soon be too dark for you to leave, but pulling away seemed like a crazy thought, especially now, because of the way you were kissing him so dearly while tugging at his hair.

he loved kissing you, for your lips tasted honey and something foreign that only you wielded.

to his dismay though, you pulled away too soon, staring at him with swollen lips, ragged breaths, and flushed cheeks.

“stop,” you booped his noise playfully; a stark contrast to the zeal prior. “i have to go.”

“maybe one more kiss?” he bargained, pushing your handbag back to the floor when you tried to pick it up before his hands once again found purchase on the slightly exposed skin of your waist.

“well, one turns into twenty turns into fifty with you, so no.” you said, giggling at the way he groaned and threw his head back dramatically.

“you’re boring.”

you feigned a gasp. “i’m plenty fun, thank you very much.”

heeseung scrunched his nose and dumbly tried to stop you from leaving by nudging your lower leg with his foot (it didn’t work).

“if you were fun, you’d kiss me again.” he said with a shrug.

“no,” you responded curtly, gathering your keys and scarf.

he groaned again as you slipped out of his room, sticking your tongue at him. “boo!”

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚⠀⠀ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑

jay was the type to be romantic, and you were the type to pick up on your lover’s little habits. you noticed how jay always kissed your hand: before a date, before bed, while in the car… anywhere, really.

soon enough, you found yourself returning the gesture.

one day, the two of you were curled up in bed, his arm around your shoulder and your head atop his chest.

you were near the point of sleep, but you felt the need to stretch this moment with his for as long as you could.

as your eyelids betrayed you and nearly shut, the sound of jay’s laughter vibrated through his chest, jerking you back awake.

“sleepy?”

“no,” you lied.

“liar,” he said, “what’s making you stay up?”

you hummed some response and lifted your head off his chest, turning towards his hand before placing a lingering, sleepy kiss on the back of it.

jay tensed under your lips for an instant, but then he smiled and relaxed, the familiar feeling of your lips on his hand gave him déjà vu. you were doing what he so often did to you.

he held your chin and turned your head towards his, so that you had no choice but to stare into his doting eyes.

“get some rest, my lovely girl.”

and with that, you did, falling asleep to the cadence of his heartbeat and the lullaby of his presence.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡⠀⠀𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑛𝑒

“jake!” you whined, running up to the boy who was seated in his gaming chair, clicking at a controller which you never understood.

your voice greeted him before your face did, and he turned abruptly, looking for you. at the sight of you, spent and so so tired, with bags under your eyes and a telling pout on your lips, his heart dropped, and he opened his arms for you.

you accepted the offer, burying your face in the crook of his neck and sighing against his skin, eliciting a shiver from him. his arms wrapped around your waist and ran along your back.

“i—” kiss, “am—” kiss “so—” kiss, “tired—” kiss, “today!” kiss.

between every word, you trailed an open-mouthed kiss down his collarbone. you weren’t exactly sure why, but you just wanted to make sure he knew how much you appreciate him. and you wanted to kiss him, too, but hey.

jake’s smile grew with every kiss. you were so cute in his eyes, always knotting up his mind with every action—especially when that action was kissing his neck.

whenever you did so, you made his heart stop, and then beat at a rate tenfold faster. it was just such a sweet, intimate thing to him.

he pulled your head up to face him, memorizing the sight of you. still pretty, even when exhausted at 11:41 PM.

“well,” he teased, “not too tired to kiss me, i guess?”

your eyes narrowed. “don’t ridicule me.”

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡⠀⠀𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑

sunghoon felt you were the only person he could let his guard down around. usually so rigid, he always eased up when he was laying between your thighs, staring into your eyes as you worked your fingers through the slight tangles in his hair.

he was tethering between sleep and wakefulness, and you could tell. you didn’t mind him falling asleep like this in your arms.

he shifted slightly and looked up at you, eyes flickering to your lips. you didn’t waste another second before leaning down, pushing his hair away from his forehead and then kissing him there.

sunghoon let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding before smiling up at you, running his hand across your cheek gently.

“you seem comfy,” you teased, leaning into his touch.

“i always am with you.”

you blushed and bit your lip, not entirely sure how to answer.

“go to sleep.”

you didn’t have to tell him twice. sunghoon found himself drifting off to sleep, with the thought of your warmth and your lips on his forehead still fresh in his mind.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢⠀⠀𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑦

the two of you decided to bake a strawberry sponge cake this sunday. rather an impromptu decision, really (actually, it was because you wanted homemade cake).

you were tasked with cutting up a bowl of strawberries, while sunoo made the chantilly cream. simple, in theory, but sadly, you had no baking experience whatsoever!

sunoo was at first staring at you with a smile, the erupting adoration he held for you in his chest reflecting through his dilated pupils. but then, as his eyes shifted to your rushed slicing, he gasped dramatically; his reverence turning into repulse.

“what are you doing!” he exclaimed, taking the knife from you.

you shrugged innocently, tilting your head so that your hair poured over one shoulder. “what you told me to?”

“i didn’t tell you to slaughter the strawberries,” he huffed before cutting the strawberries, this time more gracefully.

you giggled, plucking an uncut strawberry from the bowl. “whoops.”

“put that down,” sunoo said with mock-seriousness in his tone.

he wasn’t actually annoyed at you. never at you.

you looked at him with faux innocence, and then brought the half-eaten strawberry up to his lips. sunoo bit down on it, and that made you blush. an indirect kiss.

“well,” sunoo said, but his voice was less dictatorial now, and noticeably more soft, “you could at least pretend to help me with the baking.”

“right!” you nodded and furrowed your brows. “i’ll preheat the oven. you know, we should just heat it at 8,750 degrees for one minute, rather than 350 for 25.”

“y/n, no! don’t touch that oven!”

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡⠀⠀𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑡

the first time you kissed his wrist, it was before a dance performance.

his nervousness was evident, manifesting in the frenetic way he'd paced back and forth and adjusted his loose tie for the nth time.

"you'll do great. you always do," you assured him, looking up at him with a supportive smile and a slight tilt of your head.

jungwon furrowed his brows, staring down at your perched figure, “but what if i mess up?”

his hand sought your face (it eased him, or so he said), running his fingers over your cheekbones slightly. you couldn’t help not leaning into his touch, holding onto his forearm.

“you won’t,” you placed a feathery kiss on his wrist, his pulse and cologne fluttering right under your lips. “i know you won’t.”

the action of your lips on his wrist, though small and barely even tangible, was there; for reasons inexplicable, it soothed him, and a blush ripened jungwon’s cheeks. he found himself suddenly smiling, as if his prior worries were a thing of the long past.

“you always know just what to say, baby.”

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜⠀⠀𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑒𝑘

riki was already really tall, and standing next to your shorter figure just accentuated his height, if anything.

whenever the two of you were in public—say, in a crowded shopping mall—and you wanted a kiss, you’d sometimes be too shy to ask, especially with all the people standing around the two of you.

so, you’d pull on his arm, so that he was slightly more level with you, and then you’d tip-toe, leaning up just enough to reach his cheek.

at this point, riki was turned towards you, his attention fully on you, more so than it always is.

you placed your chin on his shoulder and peppered a casual kiss there.

riki liked your little shoulder kisses. one, because they were sweet, and two, because they always led to him grabbing your chin and tilting it up to face him.

he’d admire your coy grin for maybe a second or two before his eyes darted towards your lips, and he was suddenly filling the distance between the two of you, pecking your lips tenderly; all the people around you two suddenly seemed to disappear.

sure, he might’ve hated PDA, but to kiss you, he could make an exception.

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