#that one piece of hair out of place is so perfect
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happy birthday, mi amor.
âË áą itoshi sae x gn! reader.
‷ special happy birthday gift to my beloved moot @kaiser1ns!
âwhat happened in here?â you ask, seeing your boyfriend at the center of what seemed to be a glitter explosion.Â
your living room was decorated head to toe with birthday decorations. from banners with your name on it to streamers being thrown across every piece of furniture, everything was placed meticulously. there were even balloons filling the empty corners of the house with your favorite colors. alongside a multitude of giftbags on the table, there was a white cake box, a sweet treat you can only assume came from your favorite bakery.Â
still in his sports jacket, sae is covered in confetti with a cheesy âhappy birthdayâ cone hat. in his hands was a small confetti popper. based on his appearance and the somewhat irked expression on his face, you assume he played with the string so much that it exploded on him early.Â
âsurprise happy birthday,â he replies plainly, as if you had forgotten about your own birthday. heâs still holding onto the popper despite nothing being inside. he was trying to make up for the lack of pizazz with a smile as soft as tofu.
you reach out to hold his bicep, feeling a little embarrassed with your appearance. you had come back from a long day of work and classes, and you just finished a nice dinner with your friends. ending the day off with sae was the best thing you could have ever asked for, if it wasnât for the messy look on your face and your hair being in all sorts of different shapes.Â
sae wasnât the loud, affectionate person but he made up for it with moments like these. reaching over to hold onto your cheek, he brings you close to him, looking down at you with the same look in his eyes that you see every morning. tender and sweet, youâd say.
ïżœïżœyou didnât have to do all of this yâknow.â you smile, âyouâre still in your uniform. did you rush over to my place after practice?âÂ
âitâs your birthday.â translation: yes.
your chest bubbles up with happiness as he kisses the top of your head, nudging you over towards the table. he gives you your own happy birthday hat, kissing you again on your temple as he opens up the white cake box. it was your favorite flavor, the one that he learned immediately and kept in the back of his head after your first date.Â
lighting up the candles, he slowly claps for you, singing what might have been the worst rendition of happy birthday you've ever heard. but nonetheless, the moment couldn't be anymore perfect.
âhappy birthday, mi amor,â he mutters, watching as you blow out your candles. his chest feels the same enveloping warmth he has come to associate with you. he mentally captures this scene like a polaroid, keeping it close to him like a heart locket heâll look back on again in the future.
he hopes that whatever wish you made for the year will include him and more tender moments like this.
#âË áą ruruumin#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#bllk sae x reader#itoshi sae x reader#sae itoshi x reader#sae x reader
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alkali. | m. bachira
âźÂ tags ; afab + gn!reader, established relationship, omegaverse, morning sex, unprotected sex, knotting, bachira being a lovesick mess, 18+
âź wc ; 2k (guys....)
âźÂ a/n ; a comission for @cottoncalicoes. thank you for commissioning me!!!
âźÂ synopsis ; every moment of bachira's life has been painted by you.
or a soft post story from another word for homesick, from bachira's perspective.
tip jar | commission post (reopening on the 22nd) | ao3 link.
[ TWENTY-ONE ]
"Meguru," Your voices catches on a breath, just short of pleasant sigh as your hand lands on his chest, pushing him away from you. "Quit it already."
There's an edge to your exasperation - familiar and affectionate that makes Bachira purr deep from his chest. He's wrapped around you tight, morning sun filtering through the blinds and casting a soft yellow glow on your skin. He buries his face in your neck, nose brushing your scent glands.
Something rich and warm suffuses through him as he inhales it. Years and years of his life entangled in you.
He's giddy with it. It's been months now and he's still so restless with his love you for.
His voice comes out whiny, high pitched yowling as he hugs you tighter, still, somehow. Trying to squeeze you into his ribs like you'll fit there with enough effort - he slots his morning wood against the swell of your belly and inhales. Marks you with his own scent until it covers you completely.
(Bachira developed this habit forever ago. Back when you were kids and you were convinced that he was another innocent omega. It worked well enough to keep alphas off of you, omega's not so much.
He wishes it worked on both. On everyone so you could be his so obviously nothing could get between you. He wishes he could bond with you so many times over until he's engraved into your bones
It might be enough then. Probably not though.)
You laugh again, and it's beautiful and measured like always. "Meguru,"
"Don't wanna get up yet." He whines. He can already feel you concede. "Wanna do stuff. And have lots of sex."
"It's too early to have sex,"
"It's never too early to have sex, silly," He replies, all smiles. "I'm an alpha you know? With the worlds prettiest omega in my bed. This much is normal. It's fine already so come on."
"I had plans for today." You say, ignoring his words with an expertise of a life time. "Errands, chores."
"Ehh?? Boringâlike super boring. Super duper boring. Don't wanna, wanna stay here with you."
"You're so difficult," You're smiling while you say it. "We spent most of this week together again, Meguru."
You skirt around the obvious. Most of the week making love. Bachira can't keep his hands off of you. He can't get enough of you and during the limited weeks of his off season - there's nothing to do but indulge his strongest emotions.
He lets his nose brush your jaw, placing a kiss a a fading mark on your neck and the permanent bond on your nape. "Mhm. And you look so full and perfect with my knot, I can't help it. It's in my instinct."
"Your instinct is to keep your knot in me 24/7?" You tease. Bachira nods.
"Duh. Right where it belongs." He says, then adds. "I want to be close to you all the time. Cuddling isn't enough, yknow? I'd eat you if I could."
Weak against him, you move to curl up into him. It makes Bachira so happy he feels like he could explode into a million pieces. It's there again, that feeling. That he's so happy he could burst at the very seams of him and there's no other way to express it other then loud enough for the world to hear.
A wave of affection and aggression and adoration come over in one go. And he's swift as he flips you onto your back. You turn over with a yelp, arms securing around neck. "Don't be so rowdy this early in the morning,"
He looks at you where you look up at him, soothingly pushing hair from his face when you say it. You're not even slightly upset. You look like you love him, like you always have. Kind and perfect and lovely and wholly like you understand. Like you know Bachira. Not once in his life do you look at him like he's too much for you.
He loves you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you, heâ
He kisses you. Hard and desperate. A kiss to your lips, then the corner of your mouth, to all over your face as his fingers deftly pull away at your PJ shorts. You're a mess of gigglesâ sweet between gasping breathes. Bachira thinks it might be his favorite sound. He kisses you while you laugh, between breathless sharp bouts of it until you're content with sighing.
His brain loops the same thought, simple and constant like a stream. Or maybe more like a tidal wave. More like a tsunami, more like an Earthquake. Maybe there's no disaster grand enough to put the feeling into words - maybe a love so pure and full exceeds language entirely.
Bachira thinks so. His head is so filled with you it feels like you're what makes up the gray matter of his body and what words could there be for something so physical ? He feels it in his chest when he breathes. When his shoulders tremble with laughter, when he cries or sleeps or eats, when he lives at all and every cell in his body are screaming at him that he loves you more than anyone else in the world.
He's unceremonious and desperate when he takes your shorts off. He wants you. He needs you. You're all he's ever needed.
When you spread your legs, he's greeted by the perfect view of your pussy - hairs slicked back from arousal. He should get to take his time with you. He thinks about it. How to treat you gently, properly. He's never been good at it though.
He's never been desired you in a way that's gentle and you've never asked him too. His feelings are overbearing and possessive. Even smothering you isn't enough.
You've been dating again for a few months now, together again after years. Drops of affection piling up inside of him leaving an ocean of longing in it's wake.
You're the first person Bachira has ever known. You were the one to approach him, to trust him, to be honest with him, to accept him wholly.
He doesn't think there'll ever be a time where he can tell you what it meant to him.
He can't bring it in himself to be patient when it's so heavy in him all the timeâwhen you've got yourself spread open like this. Pretty and perfect and dripping - aching for his knot early in the sunlight, familiar flush on your face. A wetness to your eyes, color to your lips.
"It's soft enough," You tug at his wrist. "C'mon. If you're gonna do it. Hurry."
This is how Bachira has spent every day of this week. Listening to the pleasant melody of your voice when he goads you again - loving the way you break down for him. He sits up slightly on his knees and draws his thumb against your slick folds.
Your body is so inviting. Throbbing with need as you whimper in response to his touch, his thumb settling on the swollen nerves of your clit. Drawing circles too slow on purpose and watching you get wetter. You keen.
"Meguru, don't be mean."
God. He grins a little, pulling his hand away as he shoves his pants and boxers down his thighs. His cock stands, fat and heavy as he taps it against your sex. You look down in anticipation, look up again for him at mercy. How could he fuck you gently when your expression reads as so desperate to be pounded?
He leans down to kiss you hard as the tip slides into your entrance. He captures the gasp you let out, a hand on your waist to anchor his grip - another at your jaw to hold it and kiss you deep. His tongue slides against yours sloppy and you make a noise of protest - probably concerned about your breath or something silly.
Bachira doesn't care. He can't think of anything other than how much he utterly adores you. How it wires him. Makes the parts of himself he's always been disconnected fromâthe alpha he's always felt separate to, pant with desire. He can feel every nerve in his body, every fiber of his musclesâall the ways they want you to be between his teeth. Devour you, makes a mess. An apex predator who so adores his perfect prey. Born to hunt you. Born to love you.
He slides his cock into the soft, wet, sticky warmth of your cunt with ease. Your slick makes it easy for him - built to take his cock in smooth motion. A soft sound comes from your throat as he thrusts in easily.
"It's so full, Meguru," You mumble, a hand on your belly. "I love you."
"So cute," He kisses your jaw, waiting for you to adjust only long enough to breathe. "You're so cute."
He rocks his hips slowly building to hard thrusts, feeling you clench down around him whenever he slides out - cunt gripping down like it needs him always.
Bachira lets the temptation of that thought guide his hips. He's always learning new things about himself with you, or maybe just the old parts of him always evolve to fit you better.
He can feel how easily his body wants to succumb to the pleasure of you around him. You wrap your legs around his waist as he fucks into you again and again, arms around his shoulders. The way you moan his name is sweet, makes Bachira feel even wilder.
Your hands card through his hair even while he fucks you hard and reckless. Gesture sweet and domestic, it makes him laugh against your mouth.
Bachira thinks of your life together as he buries his dick deep inside you. Thinks of the years you were apart and feels his chest get tight. Thinks of all the time he wants to make up for it by spending the rest of his life with you now and forever.
He was made for you. That's the only way he can make sense of it. Why else would Bachira be made to be too much if not to be softened and nurtured by you? The only omega in his life. only one he'll ever miss.
Here is the only place he'll ever feel at home.
The thought drives him over the edge. He feels his chest well up with emotion as he thrusts - gripping onto your hips as he lets it all go. He cums hard, his knot swelling at the base of his cock. You whine loudly as it stretches and stretched and stretches you, the air punched out of your lungs.
He holds it in until he can give you the same. His hand slides against between your bodies, clumsy and desperate, as his fingers find your clit. You're sensitive to the touch, throbbing endlessly as he rubs the bundle of nerves, fast and hard.
It just doesn't feel good if he doesn't cum together with you.
"Meguruâc-cumming,"
He cums right alongside you. You pulse and spasm, legs clasped around his waist and holding onto him desperately as your cunt milks cock. He follows, filling you with his cum almost instantly before the base of his cock begins to swell with a familiar euphoria.
The pleasure is intense. It never seems to settle down, sensitivity spiked as he plugs his knot inside of. The way your body accommodates him makes his stomach tie in knots, cunt clinging to him possessively in the same way his knot anchors inside of you. He shivers.
The intense feeling of longing doesn't dull even after you both catch your breath. Instead it shifts, changes to something heavier as he sniffles.
He always cries during sex lately. You comfort him the same way you did when you were kids.
"You're crying again," You whisper, all warm.
"I love you," He sniffles. He doesn't know how else to say it. "I love you so much. You're never allowed to go anywhere ever."
You laugh loudly at that and he smiles even through tears.
"I don't have any plans to do that anyhow," You hum holding him. "We're made to be a pair, you know? Makes more sense that way,"
An ocean of longing and youâthe hopeful sky above it. The moon to his sun. A corrosive acid and his great equalizer. A perfect pair.
Yes, Bachira knows exactly what you mean.
#a.fc#bachira x reader#bluelock x reader#bachira smut#bluelock smut#theyre so in love OUGHSDJH#awfh.fic
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H-hey mootie
So itâs my birthday this week
So if you would make a blurb about drider!Miguel killing readers shitty husband then fucking her đ·ïž
I would love it đ„șđ„șđ„ș
Yes itâs Halloweeny thatâs cause I didnât have the energy to write it myself no matter the word count or format I know you can do it Justice!! Love ya!!
YES U CAN MY WONDERFUL MOOT. đđ Dedicated to the amazing moot đ€ HAPPY BIRTHDAY ILYYY đžïžđ·ïž @cullen-rutherford-wifey
Huge thanks to my moot adqui for the Spanish translation help, and to @politemenacephd for the inspiration and their flawless Drider!Miguel smut in Arachnophilia that helped me a ton with this fic. đ€
can I be him
CW: MINORS DNI, X FEM!READER, MONSTERFUCKING, SMUT, P IN V, LOTS OF CUM, NIPPLE PLAY, LIGHT BONDAGE, SPIT, BREEDING, CREAMPIE, ANAL PLAY(idk if that's what it's called) EDGING, DRIDER!MIGUEL, ANGST, MUTUAL PINING, SLIGHTLY STALKER ISH BEHAVIOR, GRAPHIC BLOOD AND VIOLENCE, DOMESTIC DISPUTE, YOU HAVE A SHITTY HUSBAND, MURDER, INFIDELITY, A DARKER PIECE PLS PLSSSSS MIND THE WARNINGS.
Words 6.1k
Miguel shouldn't be doing this. But he can't help it. It was wrong to watch you like this. To want you like this.Â
The warm glow cast by the screen floating in front of him softened his chiseled features as he gazed longingly at you through the portal of dimensions that kept you apart.Â
A gorgeous, living variant of his own version of you that he could not save. The only one out of thousands he had come across. And believe that when he first lost you, his unfathomable grief kept him searching, scouring, waiting, hoping for months that there was one more universe out there where death didn't rip you away.Â
And the first he discovered just had to be one where you belonged to someone else.Â
Dated for almost five years now. Married for going on three. And the kicker was that bastard didn't even deserve you.Â
The multiverse was cruel. In every other reality, tragedy irrevocably tainted the legacy of Miguel O'Hara.Â
Always so close, and yet, never finding peace in any set of cards he was coldly dealt.Â
In this particular dimension he was watching you from, he was a mutant with his top half being that of a man and the lower half, that of a spider. A large abdomen adorned in fuzzy black hair with eight enormous thick legs like a tarantula and venomous fangs, irises of bleeding crimson to match. He was a drider. A monster, as far as he was concerned.Â
But there were times when he'd watch you that he'd allow himself to be crazy enough to dream that you could love someone like him.
At least in his mind he wasn't chained back by his fears and insecurities. At least for now in the sanctity of his office, your shitty husband didn't exist and you weren't lightyears away in an opposite plane of reality. You could be free to be all his, monstrous features be damned.
A version of you loved him once, would it really be all that far fetched to think you could possibly learn to love him again?
---
Another long day ended. You exhaled a weary sigh as you left the cold of late fall that was descending quickly into winter in the icy world behind you. Closing the door to your house that seldom felt like home these days.Â
You supposed your life was okay, but still you wouldn't have chosen it had you known this feeling of monotony would haunt you everywhere you went.
From your job, to sometimes family, but most of all your marriage. Nearly all your life, you felt out of place, but never quite like this. You supposed it started as early as nine months into your relationship with your now husband.Â
When he stopped buying flowers, when his texts became fewer, hours at work became longer, his patience shorter. You chalked it up to the unpredictable ebbs and flows of love.
"Love isn't perfect. Not all rainbows and butterflies," you were told time and time again.Â
When your husband wanted to, he could be great. When he was bad, he could be exceptionally worse. But how could you be so sure? With practically nothing to compare it to, you supposed this was simply the path that was carved out for you. Mediocrity may be disappointing but passion alone couldn't keep a roof over your head. Stability was still a wiser thing to choose than comfortability.Â
Even so, on the eve of your birthday, the empty spot next to you in bed that you slowly became accustomed to delivered that sharp reminder of just how lonely you really were.Â
Tears fell and seeking solace, you shamelessly indulged and allowed your mind to visualize him. That mystery man from afar who haunted your dreams and took up permanent residence in your mind with his bewitching crimson eyes. Sometime around when you suspected the love your husband once had for you had all but ceased.Â
You don't know why, but this being seemed to call for you, seemed to speak to you. To that forgotten part inside that for the life you couldn't explain why it remained empty.
It was almost like a cosmic bond to him, an adept yearning. An invisible lining etched into your very being that somehow recalled him in a different life. That gorgeous face without a name.Â
Miguel.Â
----
Miguel stirs awake, realizing he was a victim of sleep while watching you. His attention is called immediately to a growing spat between you and your husband.Â
"I asked a simple fucking question, John. Where. were. you."
"And I GAVE YOU A SIMPLE FUCKING ANSWER. Don't. fucking. worry. about. it."Â
Miguel sits up, high on alert, spider senses kicking in. Something about John's tone this time was highly unsettling.Â
"You know what, I've lost count by now, John..." You flung your hands in the air, weary, defeated and broken down by the endless disappointment, tear soaked trails running from your eyes that hadn't stopped since last night. "But of all the days out of the year...you just couldn't keep it in your pants on my fucking birthday..."Â
"Do you fucking hear yourself??" John screamed. "Nobody said anything about cheating! Where in this entire conversation has there ever even a hint about cheating? I'll fucking tell you: NONE." He points an accusatory finger. "You brought this all on yourself, not me!"Â
"It was Carla again, wasn't it." You nodded with a tearful sob, pacing around the living room. "Carla, fucking, Carla..."
Maybe fixing these pillows could distract you from the agonizing realization that you were reliving the nightmare of John's infidelity. Going on three for three when you thought the first and second time he had learned enough.Â
"I didn't sleep with goddamn Carla!!" John grabs a mug and hurls it at the wall.Â
That's it. Miguel draws a portal immediately. His yearning had reached a breaking point, and this fight was all the push he needed to come to shove. Miguel O'Hara normally obeyed the rules, but this version of him was unlike the others.Â
No rule was above being broken when it came to the lengths he would go for you.Â
"Real fucking mature, John. What are you gonna do huh? Gonna hit me, choke me?? Maybe then you'll actually be half the man you think you are!"Â
"Ohhh you fucking little..."Â
But before the worst can happen, an otherworldly threat makes itself known with a random buzzing orange window opening, allowing an enormous half man, half spider through.Â
You and your husband scream in horror, your conflict between you temporarily forgotten.Â
"Shit shit SHITTTT!!! WHAT THE FUCK!! John what's happening??"Â
"I don't fucking know..." John mumbles in disbelief, flinching as Miguel's long legs pound on the hardwood floor, echoing under his formidable size. His eyes appeared menacing, deeply laced with venomous dislike as he glowered at John, but seemed to soften, if not only for just a fleeting moment when they landed on you.Â
"If...if we both donât get out of this. I need to tell you something" John mumbles almost incoherently as your fingers dug into his arm.Â
"W-what?" You turn to look at John, at this face that housed a soul inside it that you once knew but no longer recognized. Almost wordlessly appealing to whatever final shred of respect he had left inside for you as a last ditch effort to give you some semblance of the man you once loved.Â
"I ruined everything. Your sister and I fucked. Just know, I'm sorry..."
And before you could even have a moment to compute that final godforsaken dagger he had the nerve to drive into your heart, he shoved you in the way of the monster like a piece of meat so he could save his cowardly ass.Â
"JOHN!" the sound was wretched and broken. Devasted by betrayal. You shrieked in fear and brought your arms over your head, prepared to absorb whatever immense pain was about to wrack your whole body, praying frantically for a quick death.Â
But, you gasped in alarm when no such fate arrived and Miguel charged headfirst at your fleeing coward of a husband, pinning him to a wall as nearby photographs came down with crash of splintering glass.Â
His head hit the wall with a deafening crack, a dark pool of maroon beginning to leak from behind him and drip out of his nose.Â
He yelled but the sound was quickly muffled as Miguel's calloused hands wrapped around his throat, a couple trails of blood oozing down his fist. Â
"B-babe....aacghkk...please m'ergh sorry, I'm..." John tried to choke out, his teeth now coated in sheer red from where he bit his tongue, quiet trickles audible as the blood from his head seeped onto the floor underneath him. Â
Miguel was only moments away from crushing his windpipe, but he untensed his jaw when he heard you trying to catch your breath on the floor. He turned, taking note of how helpless and fearful you looked.Â
Though it would have given him immense pleasure to pull the plug, he had to think of you first.Â
"Do you mind?" He merely asks, his eyes cold as his fingers tightened just a bit.Â
"P-please..." John croaks. "Please...Babe..."
You're still reeling from anger that was slowly turning to anguish. As you looked at John, for the first time you felt nothing. It only took years and him nearly sacrificing you before himself for you to wake up and realize the sorry shell of a man he had turned into.Â
"Goodbye, John." You uttered like venom and turned away as you heard the sickening crackle and then wet sound of choking blood as Miguel snapped John's neck in half.Â
----
"You okay?"Â
"Fine."
Miguel could tell you were lying. After swiftly disposing of the body in a different dimension and washing up, he had came back to discover you hadn't moved an inch from your spot on the floor. Your numbness kept you anchored, gazing into the haunting abyss of the blood spatter that remained on the wall.Â
"Hey, easy now. " Miguel murmured as you finally began to stand up.Â
"I can handle my own, thanks."Â
"Of course, I mean..." He clears his throat, stomach uneasy when you became short with him. "Sorry."
You two sat opposite each other in the living room with you and on the couch and Miguel on the floor as that was the only space that could accommodate him.Â
Sometime during the seemingly infinite silence, you realized all of this bullshit your now dead ex managed to put you through in his final hours on earth made you profoundly indifferent to the fact a literal drider broke into your home.Â
"Who are you?" You ask at last. "And why didn't you kill me too?"
Miguel looks at you quickly, glad the empty silence was broken at last. "My name is Miguel." He looks down, shame in his expression. "And I, well.."
He doesn't think he should divulge all of his secrets yet. Surviving near death by drider and having your husband's cheating revealed shortly before his untimely death was more than enough burden to bear.Â
"I'm not from around here."Â
"I gathered that." Your eyes rake over his enormous form. You should be beside yourself. This man creature just killed your husband after all. But something about his voice was calming. Oddly soothing. Dare you say it was, rather attractive?
"So what are you, half spider?"Â
For the first time, an inkling of amusement shows on his face. "What, did my eight legs give it away?"Â
"Just a little." You hum, bringing your knees to your chest as you allowed yourself to relax.Â
"You know, you're...eerily calm about all of this."Â
"Heh...I know. Guess I kind of feel like I'm still asleep and I'm gonna wake up any minute."Â
"Wanna test that theory?" Miguel quirks a brow.Â
You pinch yourself while keeping your deadpan stare, holding it for a moment as if it would do anything. "Nope."Â
"Wow." Miguel says sarcastically to which you can't help but snicker. "So, do weird occurrences like this happen to you often? Still doesn't explain why you're not completely hysterical about all this."Â
"I watch the news." You shrug. "Crazy shit happens in New York all the time. What with Spider-Man being a thing and all. Just a step above normal, I'd say."Â
"Ah." It made sense. Miguel should've known your dimension had its own spider. A little bit of relief washed over him. At least this made things a bit less messy on his end. He falls silent again, stealing little glances of you now and then.Â
You were fucking ethereal in person. Being this close was something he only dreamed about. Now that it was happening in real time, he was wracking his mind desperately for ideas on how to drag it out as long as he could.Â
"So if I may: how'd you become half spider?" You ask the hard question at last.Â
Miguel raises his eyebrows, somewhat relieved you took the first leap. He proceeds to tell you about his lab accident, and how he became spliced with spider DNA.
He tells you about the multiverse, and how there are many versions of him out there with the same story, but his cursed him with the lower half of a mutant unlike most.Â
"So, if there's a whole multiverse out there, are there multiple versions of myself too?" You lean your chin on your hand like a curious pupil.Â
Miguel nods stiffly, trying to disguise the weight of the information he held. "Yeah. "
You go silent again, then you ask, "Did you know me in your own universe?"
Miguel's heart pangs subtly at the reminder. "Yeah, I did..." He looks away from you but you can't help but continue to stare at him.Â
He really was so pleasant to look at. That brown, wavy hair that curled just slightly at the ends you could only imagine would run like silk between your fingers, eyes a hue of red that couldn't be replicated anywhere except the deep center of the rarest rose, lulling voice that dripped from those full lips. This formidableness about him that crumbled into gentleness only when it came to you did absolutely nothing but pull you closer to him.Â
For the first time, those unconnected dots in that unanswered part of you in your dreams might be falling into place.Â
"Was I quite close to you?" Your heart steadily begins to pick up.Â
Miguel shook under his desire to just let the facade fall away and pull you into his arms. But he remained still as he looked back at you, silent plea from behind his words that was only articulated in those eyes that put bleeding sunsets to shame.
"You meant the world to me."Â
The pieces coming together prompted these strong emotions you weren't expecting, coming out in broken tears. "So that's why you found me..." You shook your head.Â
Miguel's heart tugs outside of his chest. He stands up, drawing closer, then his legs folded as he leaned in to where you sat on the couch. When you didn't pull away, he got the courage to cup your face in both his hands, gently wiping the wetness away.Â
"Why didn't you come get me sooner?" It clicks at that very moment. That tender gaze that graced you now could not belong to anyone other than your starcrossed beloved who visited every time you closed your eyes.Â
"I wanted to." Miguel must suppress his own tears at this point. Oh how he wanted to, how he ached to.
"Believe me, I really did, mi vida.."Â
His term of endearment for you just encourages you to liquify under his touch even more. "But why didn't you?? I was so miserable. I waited for you. I thought you weren't real. Thought you were never coming..."Â
"I know, I know." Miguel closed his eyes when your foreheads met at last. This feeling of touching you for the first time elated him, shedded him of his internal torment. He felt like he was soaring.
"You were married and I was..." He sighs deeply, pulling away just a little, "I was... well, me."Â
"What do you mean by that?" You furrow your brows, your heart panged by hurt, trying to understand why. Why he deprived himself of this thing you both clearly wanted when it was right there.Â
"Nobody as beautiful as you would ever love someone who looks like me.."Â
A pit falls to the bottom of your stomach and you immediately shake your head. "No...no, that couldn't be further from the truth, Miguel..."Â
You sit up, leaning in as you took his face in your hands again. His eyes went wide in disbelief. "W-what are you..."Â
A million chills erupt in Miguel's body that become embers of warmth as your lips touch for the first time. He holds his breath, then sighs. The little break in between the kiss and the low, gentle sound coming from him just encourages you to meet him again, and again.Â
Your fingers wind their way into his hair and his own hands couldn't do anything but pull you even closer as the kiss deepened under the weight of the burning passion. The longing was set free, a million questions answered that just kept confirming to Miguel over and over that this couldn't be more right. Canon be damned, rules be damned as your lips and your hands became a slow dance of sensual exploration.Â
"Miguel..."Â
"Please I-mnghhh..." He pleads then relents immediately as he lets his head roll gently back, allowing you to continue blazing tantalizing trails of kisses all over his neck. Because of the size difference between you both, he scoops you into his arms off the couch. He can't help but indulge the feeling of your body pressed against his, using his grip on your thighs to grind you ever so lightly against his abdomen.Â
The pressure delivered from the press of his body shoots directly to your core and you shamelessly take that as permission to roll your hips slightly as you straddled him, releasing that first moan into his mouth when your lips came back up from exploring the warmth of his neck.Â
That delicious little sound you make nearly wrecks him in the best way. Miguel moans equally louder as his kisses dial up in intensity. His teeth begin nipping intermittently as the kiss morphs into a passionate exchange of saliva and collision of lips on lips. The potent venom laced in his fangs pools with the building zeal and it seeps into your mouth, leaving sweet aftertaste whose foreignness only fuels your arousal.Â
An enormous thud echoes as Miguel falls backwards, but it does absolutely nothing to deter the flame lit under you. You both find a comfortable rhythm as his hands guide your hips as you ride his large spider abdomen while your makeout session riled with fervor. The coarse bristly hairs were a delicious addition to the addicting friction with each slow roll of your body. Miguel's lips fall open and his eyes falter. You relish this feeling of power over him, this enormous drider who all but became a weak weak man when he was underneath you.Â
You bite your lip as each heavenly movement inspires you to leave all shame at the door and start to put on a show. You card your fingers in your hair, moving it in your eyes in erotic display, groaning as you rolled your head every which way in careless abandon, letting your fingers dip in your mouth, squeezing your breasts.Â
"Fuckkk me..." Miguel breathes out. "Fuck me, you're so...God, you're so beautiful..." He hands continue to knead the swell of your ass, gritting his teeth as his grip locks down even harder and he feels you humping directly over his slit where his phallus was hardening underneath the ocean of fur to the point of ache.Â
His hands then move to play with your breasts, your eyes widened when the spot on your hips is quickly replaced with two of his smaller forelegs, one of them teasing the waistband of your pants as his human hands quickly unclasped your bra.Â
"Miguellll...." You mewl as one of his forelegs holds your hip steady while the other works little circles through your clothed clit, all while you felt his warm, wet tongue flatten and tease your left nipple. All you can do at this point is moan and let him wreck you completely, this pleasure that was smoldering you from all sides.Â
You gazed down, amazed and aroused to discover that the lower half attached to this beautiful man you were tangled in only fueled the desire, this taboo. Knowing fully well that he was capable of bloodshed, but for now he only wanted to fuck you. You grinded harder against him, answering his soft ministrations of your clit with eager gyrations of your hips.Â
"Me vas a terminar matando..."(You'll end up killing me) He weakly chuckled, "So, so perfect..."
Miguel is intoxicated by your breasts, circulating and squeezing them together, while his lips dribbled and slobbered as he sucked them both greedily into his mouth in messy alteration.
Soon both round globes were coated in a dripping sheen of his venom, working the thickening syrup in sloppy circles over both nipples that tingled and numbed you so deliciously along with the teasing circles of his thumbs that it made your back arch to the heavens.Â
He leaned back momentarily to admire his handiwork, lower jaw shiny with a mixture of venom and spit, a steamy yet filthy display of his subtle ownership he now felt over you.Â
His.Â
His rightful claim when he snapped your sorry ass excuse of a husband like a twig. Each little noise you made all for him only swelling his pride and confirming his suspicion that the loser couldn't make you cum like he could.Â
Speaking of cumming, you were damn near close. Miguel doesn't want to be greedy and would love to let his sweet little darling cream and squirt all over his stomach right now, but the thought was more appealing for this first time being on his tongue or, if you were up for it, his drider cock.Â
"I wanna cum, Miguel, please I wanna cum..." You whined, temporarily losing that sweet spot as he removed his forelegs from their massage on your clit.Â
"I know baby, I'm gonna make you cum..." He kissed you. "You'll cum for me. Many times, I'll make sure of it..." He panted, moving a finger underneath your chin. "How do you feel about taking my cock?"Â
The straightforward nature of his question answered itself in the further dampening spot in your panties. "Please...Y-yes pleaseee, Miguel. Want you to fuck me...want you to give me your cock..."Â
"Yeah?" He groaned, hands slinking all up and down your body, under your clothes, stroking your breasts. "I'll give it to you then, baby...fill you up so good..."Â
He paused then kissed you deeply once more. "You're gonna have to trust me... We'll have to try something different so this can work..."Â
You nodded. "I trust you, Miguel."Â
"Okay..." He whispered. "You're still okay with this?"Â
"Yes, I'm okay..." You breathed back. "I'm okay, baby. I want you so badly. I'm willing to try anything so you can be so deep inside of me..."Â
"Fuck, me too..." He groaned back against your lips. "Okay, hold on f'me..."Â
He set you back down on the couch and you were floored as you watched your beloved turn into an artist, spinning an elaborate web that stretched from floor to ceiling, almost like a swing that was anchored solidly on both sides to the wall.Â
"Mi vida..." He offers you his hand like a gentleman, helping you up. "Can I?" He whispers as his hands disappear underneath your clothes.Â
"Yes..."Â
He strips you carefully and slowly like fine china, letting the anticipation build as every patch of skin slowly became revealed to him.Â
Somehow letting him undress you, sliding the rest of your panties off and simply letting his eyes roam freely all over your body felt like the most intimate thing you had done all night, even more so as he still remained fully clothed in his top half as he stood back and drunk in the sight of you like wine.Â
"You're simply stunning, love..."Â
His hands ghosted low on your hips until they rested on the bare curve of your ass. You jumped and wrapped your thighs around him, Miguel tensed his jaw with a smirk as he kneaded the plump flesh of your ass, hardening again when he felt your bare slick he drew out of your pussy earlier against his stomach.Â
He nestled you into the makeshift swing that was soft and sticky as the fibers clung to your bare skin in a natural adhesive. He spun more webs around your ankles, opening them slightly.Â
"Is this still okay?" He asked gently again.Â
Exhilaration washed over you but you nodded, grinning and easing your legs open in further tease to demonstrate your own building excitement for what was to come. "Yes..."Â
"Good." His voice went halfway between a groan again at your pretty pussy blossoming like a flower in front of him.Â
He stood back, eyes cloudy and trained on you as he removed his shirt, letting it fall in a quiet heap to the ground.Â
You drank him in as well like an offering, moaning audibly when the slit in his fur low on his abdomen opened to reveal a long, thick, hard red cock with pulsating black veins adorning both sides. It curved upwards, and it throbbed, making your mouth water.Â
This only made the full sight of your monstrous lover even more alluring as he stood before you in all his drider glory, towering over you even now when you were closer to his eye level in your makeshift swing, with your thighs spread and your silky cunt begging to be filled.Â
He shot a web onto your belly, pulling you in closer while you still sat settled on the swing, giggling as he smirked playfully at you, until just the tip of his cock kissed between your folds.Â
"Hi there..." You chuckled, tilting your head up, wetting your lips seductively.Â
He groaned quietly in a stew of lust as he saw your tongue rake over your bottom lip,Â
"Hello, sweetheart...fucking gorgeous thing, you..."
He gently pinched both sides of your cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger, immediately bringing you into a deep french kiss.Â
The feeling of his warm tongue sliding in your mouth shot directly down to your cunt, only amping up in electricity as he teased his plump girthy head of his cock all around your pulsing clit.Â
"Miguel....fuck me..." Your spine arched and your nails dug into his shoulder, aggravating the raging arousal he was simmering for you all over his body. "Don't tease me like this, baby..."Â
Miguel released a mischievous chuckle that tapered into another one of his low moans that goaded you even deeper into all this pent up frustration you wish he'd take out on your now sopping pussy already.
"Ten paciencia, mi vida, por favor... " (Be patient, my life, please) He cooed sweetly at you, lightly brushing his nose against yours "Gotta get you nice and ready to take me..."Â
You breath became choked in your lungs when he begins to massage the fat tip directly over your velvety clit, grunting as he felt another drip of arousal leak and coat all along the thick head.Â
"Besides..." He murmured heavily though soft parted lips, entranced with hooded eyes. "The more I edge you, the more pleasureable it'll be when I finally make you cum all over my cock..."
"Baby, please..." The crescendo of arousal swelled in your belly, making your eyes water. You coaxed your body against him faster, desperate to reach that peak, but your movements were minimal due to the webbing. The feeling of emptiness covered you but was quickly eased when he promptly removed his tip from your clit again, this time dragging it down to your dripping entrance.Â
"Kiss me..." Miguel murmured and he didn't need to tell you twice. His tongue rolled and rubbed with yours as he began to circle his cock into your wet opening, inch by inch filling you ever so slowly. You gasp into his mouth, realizing this whole time what he was talking about. You felt every rigid vein, every solid groove as his drider cock slowly pushed into you, stretching you beyond comprehension. It was unlike any you've ever taken before. Fuck, it felt better than any you'd ever taken before.Â
Once you got past the daunting size, the addicting feeling and pleasure of having his cock inside you set off a new chorus of breathy moans from your lips. You sighed deliciously as you greedily accepted everything he was giving you, so transfixed on his divine face that was watching you the entire time.Â
Miguel was irrevocably smitten, completely enamored with the way your warm silky walls wrapped around him, the way you looked at him with immense rapture. Fuck, this feeling was greater than anything he felt in his entire life as your pussy molded to him like it was made for him. "So tight, cariño..." He teased then hissed as he reached the hilt.Â
You two gazed at each other, completely silent for what felt like divine eternity. Simply enjoying the feeling of Miguel being buried so deeply inside you.Â
"I'm gonna start fucking you..." He whispered.Â
"Go slow at first, baby..." You purred back, clenching your pussy around him, biting your lip when it earned another weak grunt from him. "Wanna feel you nice and deep like this for a bit..."Â
"Haah...you're a goddamn tease..." Miguel huffed. "I'll try and go slow as long as I can..." The sound that came from him next was downright pathetic as he looked down at where he had you stuffed to the brim, feeling along the emerging bulge in your belly.Â
"You feel so fucking good, it's hard not to just fucking ravish you right now..."Â
"Mmm...just kiss me, then..." You murmured and he quickly seized onto that opportunity as he slowly began to pump inside you with lengthy, meaningful thrusts. Every movement was so wet and sloppy with drenched noises as a sea of slick began to drool from your pussy, coating his cock that slid in and out of you with greater ease as the moments passed.Â
You squeezed your thighs in a death grip around his large waist as you became more hammered off this euphoria, the bristly hairs tickling the sensitive sides along your clit, goading you to grind back into each deep thrust.Â
"Shit..." And Miguel's patience flew out the door with that lethal squeeze of your thighs, his hands gripped the curve of your ass as he began to completely unload on your needy wet cunt. You cried out as you took every torturous inch like the absolute whore you were for him in this moment.
It tested your limits but God, this feeling of him thoroughly fucking you nice and hard scratched that nagging, primal itch you experienced ever since you first laid eyes on him. You were practically drooling at this point, laying back and taking it, your submission just fueling his fire, unlocking that deep seated urge to fucking breed this perfect cunt for all it was worth, to ruin you and fuck your brains out so you could feel him for weeks.Â
"Miguel, Miguel, Miguellllll....." The hungry, wispy mantra of his name from your lips nearly set him off the edge alone, a raw possession washing over him completely as he railed his cock into you to new limits.Â
"You're all mine now, you know that..."Â
"I'm all yours Miguel...all yours baby..."Â
He cut you off with another fiery kiss. "Wanna cum inside you, baby, can I?"Â
"Fffuck yes....yes, Miguel, fill me..."Â
"I'll fill you up, baby..." His forelegs come up again, but this time one directly rubbing quick, vibrating circles on your clit, while one gently teased and massaged the puckered rim of your ass, all while his heavy slick covered cock continued to pound your pussy. "But you're gonna cum f'me first..."Â
"Miguel..."Â
You nearly black out as you see heaven. Miguel locks in, dipping his head down as he swallowed onto your left breast again, tweaking and tugging the nipple of the right, his mouth salivating and more venom dousing and dripping from his tongue, soaking down your already sweaty body.Â
The web renders you helpless as you have no option but to lay there and let him pleasure you past anything you thought you could handle. It felt like overstimulation as you shook and cowered and whined so loudly it could wake the neighbors.Â
Your thighs trembled, tears leaking out of the corner of your eyes as you forced yourself to let go. The premature ending of all the previous other treatments he bestowed on your spent pussy piled on top of one another, making this one far more intense and overwhelming than the others. Thick cream oozed lewdly out of you, making a sticky, glossy mess of both your pubes and coating his black fur.Â
"Cumming, sweetheart..." He panted, dripping sweat all down his reddened face, some of it landing in your mouth but you could care less. Everything about this encounter was so dirty and nasty already. The salacious feeling of consuming every part of one another from head to toe reduced you to nothing but a hole for him to dump his cum in, and you'd let him every time.Â
"I-love-you...."Â
And his heavy sweaty shaft and bulbous tip nudged your g spot simultaneously as his foreleg's massage of your swollen clit that your orgasm shuddered and rattled your bones, a new sinful coat of wetness squirting and seeping into Miguel's black fur that he soaked in like a badge of honor.Â
He forgot to warn you before, but when the coil in his balls finally released and he came inside you, the thick, viscous drider cum was like lava as it spilled and drooled and leaked from your insides. Even after you thought he had emptied, another spurt of a thick rope of cum painted your drenched walls and flooded out of you.Â
You both merely panted, eyes locked on each other in a display of intimacy of the deepest and most carnal kind, the overwhelming haze of orgasmic bliss made you both speechless. It almost didn't compute that he told you he loved you.Â
You laid there in your spiderweb tangled underneath your drider lover in the now fully emerged daytime, world outside none the wiser of the steamy, lewd acts that took place. All the more enthralling that this became a love nest built on top of your blood lust and mutual yearning that exploded like gasoline on a fire.Â
For now, real life could wait as you came back down to Earth and gazed at the flood of slick cum dripping and oozing from both of you. You felt that primal urge kick up again as Miguel smirked, softly stuffing the mess of what he could back inside the pool of glistening white that peeked between your aching folds.Â
"And I love you too, Miguel.." You whispered back.
All the puzzle pieces of his scattered life fell back into place as he heard those glorious words hit him like a train. He willed this himself. Even if it meant taking you from another dimension, this thread across time, this inevitable bond was now cemented permanently with your lovemaking and the deepest parts of him that were now inside you.Â
He could deal with all that bullshit later; he had his love back with him where she rightfully belonged.
You both laughed to yourselves as you sauntered down this path of mutual bliss and made a plan to leave all this behind and start a new life with your Drider lover in his reality.Â
But first...you couldn't help but pull him closer and he couldn't help but groan loudly as he effortlessly slipped inside you again,
"It's you and me against the stars, mi vida..."Â
And he groaned before rhythmically moving his body in that sinful dance with yours,Â
"But first I'm gonna prove it by fucking you all over again."Â
---
#from my trees . Ë đ§· Â·đ„ ° . âĄ#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel x reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel x you#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#cw monsterfucking#tw monsterfucking#cw blood#tw blood#cw murder#tw murder#cw infidelity#cw breeding#cw angst#tw angst#cw violence#tw violence#cw dark content#tw dark content
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Sorry little one, hope he didnât hurt your tealness. Hereâs something for you đ
Nosy was having a perfectly fine day, thank you very much - until that happened.
It started innocently enough. The little Niffler was up to his usual shenanigans, skulking behind a long curtain that swayed gently in the breeze - a perfect hideout for his shenanigans - when a grey-striped menace dared to hiss at him. Hiss?! At Nosy?! The audacity!
Nosy let out a defiant honk, his teal fur bristling in indignation. Who did that furball think he was dealing with? He reached out, ready to teach the cat a lesson in respect. But the cat lunged first, swiping a paw dangerously close to Nosyâs snout.
"HEY! Come away from there!" a voice suddenly barked. The striped terror was scooped up by a tall figure before Nosy could react. He watched, wide-eyed, as the young wizard scolded the feline with a stern "Tsk."
Nosy let out a disgruntled honk, wobbling closer to inspect the situation. Good riddance, he thought smugly, satisfied that the intruder had been dealt with appropriately. His victory was short-lived, however. The human had barely set the cat down when he turned his attention to the teal-furred troublemaker.
The boy crouched, placing a slice of bread in front of the Niffler. Nosyâs eyes sparkled as he stared at the offering: a piece of toast, thickly spread with glistening red jam. His tail started to wiggle as he edged closer, cautiously sniffing the treat.
âSorry, little one,â the wizard said gently. âHope he didnât hurt your tealness. Hereâs something for you.â
Nosy tilted his head at the dark-haired boy, weighing the sincerity of the apology. But he jam glistened so temptingly in the light that, after a very short moment, Nosy decided he would graciously accept this peace offering. Waddling forward, he snatched the jammy treat in his paws with an approving chirp and started to nibble the sweet snack, crumbs sticking to his beak, he cast a look back at the feline now glaring at him from afar.
Victory is sweet, Nosy thought, wiggling his tail in triumph and stuck out his little tongue at the cat.
#traceyc-uk#The new Fifth Year#Scratch#Nosy#hl rp#Hogwarts Legacy#Nosy fanart#TRACEEYYY#I AM NOT WORTHY!!#đđââïž#I am really really very sorry this took me so long!!#đ«#I really love how you drew Nosy's face!!! đđ#a perfect Nosy squint#thank you so so much!!#thank you so much!!#đđ«đ„č
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Bowser vs Eggman: The Aftermath, Sage's Lament
âFather.â
A morose whisper echoed across the wind. A small white haired girl clad in black hovered above the ground, her body flickering with lines of code. Her shoulders were slumped downward, a notably human expression by an AI creation. A frown had marred her visage as she stared up into the sky, observing the massive and spent Question Mark Block that floated there where the Death Egg once had been.
That was where she had lost her father.
Where Bowser had sent him soaring into, followed by a massive explosion that left no traces of him.
This whole conquest had been one big failure.
She had lost her brother, Metal Sonic and her father, Dr. Ivo Robotnik.
And all she could do was blame herself.
It was her that pushed for Eggman to go after other conquests. She had thought she was helping protect Sonic, a being that she was fond of. But now she realized that she pushed her father towards his doom. Not only that she had agreed that the Koopa Kingdom was the perfect place for a newfound conquest, their technology was pitiful in the face of the Eggman Empire.
Her calculations had shown them winning the battle.
Her calculations . . .
The very battle plans that her father trusted. They were doomed to fail from the very beginning. She should have known that she didnât have the data for accurate simulations, she should have stopped her father and pushed for further research . . . But she didnât.
She was too caught up in the fun and excitement of it all. Seeing the proud look on her fatherâs face when she presented him with a plan. It made her non-existent heart flutter and made her not even consider any possibilities of failure.
But they failed.
And her family died as a result.
It was her fault.
All she could do was blame herself.
Before she had any more time to blame herself, a piece of paper was pushed into her hand by one of the two survivors of that epic battle. It was her brother, Orbot who looked at her with a gentle smile.
She glanced down at the paper, reading it over. It was a recruitment drive from the Koopa Kingdom to recoup their losses from Eggmanâs sudden invasion.
âSister, with the Doctor gone it is best that we join up with a new overlord.â Orbot told her.
âItâll be better under Bowser as well. No more threats of him decommissioning me! And he provides dental!â Cubot supplied.
âYou are . . . You are abandoning father?â Her voice broke as she stared at them. The last vestiges of her family, breaking away to join the man that murdered their father. It was betrayal of the highest order and she simply could not forgive it.
âI wouldnât consider it as abandoning him, after all the Doctor is no longer with us. We have served our function to the best of our ability, now it is time to move on.â Orbot explained, hoping that their sister would join them.
âAnd weâll be safer with the Koopa Kingdom, I mean did you see the magic they have!â Cubot shot his arms up, grinning.
âThat too. He even used magic to bring himself back to life.â Orbot nodded.
Magic.
Bring himself back to life.
Eggman never believed in magic, nor did she. There was always a rational and scientific explanation for everything . . . But if Magic could bring back her father, then she would believe in it with every fiber of her coding.
She was a child, clutching a blanket for safety in the dark.
âI must go.â
She sped off into the sky as her brothers called out her name. But she wanted nothing to do with them. They had betrayed the Empire, betrayed Father and betrayed her.Â
She soared among the clouds, calculations already being put into place. She could not rely on simulations, not anymore. Not until she had all the data.
So instead she was trusting hunches and whims, making calculated guesses.
And those thoughts were pushing her towards the Mushroom Kingdom. After all, she completely and utterly refused to learn this magic from the Koopa Kingdom. She wanted nothing to do with those murderers!
It only made sense to go to the enemy of the Koopa Kingdom and plead her case to them. Surely, they would support someone who had fought Bowser!
âNo! Absolutely not!â An aged, mustached Toad stated. This was Toadsworth, the Royal Advisor to Princess Peach. He stared down Sage with an utter look of displeasure,âWe will never aid warmongers, I say!â
âI do not understand.â Sage tilted her head to the side,âBowser is a threat to the Mushroom Kingdom, is he not? I have first seen his strength, your meager military would be destroyed if he mounted an offensive against you. So, why not assist in bringing back the man that has proven to be able to challenge Bowser in his home territory?â
The Toad was taken back by her blunt and practically emotionless response. âYou dare disgrace our military with your words! What has this Eggman ever achieved but humiliation at the hands of the Koopa King! We need no help from villains nor do we require help from someone with so little worth as he!â
In an instant Sageâs black clothing turned red. She had raised up her hand pointing it at the Toad,âFather is not as you call worthless! He is a visionary! A genius! One of the greatest minds in the Multiverse! Just because you cannot comprehend genius, does not give you the right to dismiss my Father and insult him! Take it back!â A red beam exploded from her hand, firing out at Toadworth.
There was a red blur as a plumber suddenly appeared in front of the Toad. A hammer connected with the beam, sending it flying safely into a nearby wall. The Plumber landed back onto the ground, tilting his hat over his eyes as he gave a satisfied smile.
âI say! I say!â Toadsworth shouted out once he had regained his senses,âThe Mushroom Kingdom will not associate with bullies like y-â He stopped in an instant as the Princess lifted up her hand, silencing him. She stood up from her throne and stepped off of it.
âThank you for saving Toadsworth, Mario.â She spoke as she stood next to her hero. She leaned down and gave him a kiss on his cheek, resulting in the Plumber looking away and blushing. A lovestruck smile was clear on his face. She then turned her gaze onto Sage, âI apologize for my advisor . . . we have had bad dealings with others in the past.â
Sageâs rage dissipated in an instant and she came falling back onto the ground, no longer hovering. The presence of the Princess was pure and almost heavenly. She was awestruck.
âStand up.â Peach smiled, âI will help you, after all what kind of Princess would I be if I abandoned a child who needs help.â
âY-you will?â Sage stuttered out, wondering if she just experienced a glitch. She was going to have to run a diagnostic check on herself once she got home.Â
âOf course.â Peach promised, âUnfortunately, we are not as well versed with magic as the Koopa Kingdom, though we do keep the Royal Library well stocked with plenty of knowledge on the subject. Youâre free to study to your heart's content!â
Sage let out a great big smile, flying forward to grab Peachâs hands.Â
âThank you! This means so much! I promise when Father conquers this world that he will leave your Kingdom alone!â Sage thanked the Princess while Peach let out a giggle at the child's words.Â
It was all too adorable in her eyes.
With that over, Sage zoomed through the halls and bursted through the doors to the Royal Library. She raised up her arm, books began to levitate off their shelves and spun around her. They opened up, flicking from page to page with extreme speed. She only needed a simple glance to gather all the information that they provided.
âAmazing, to think that this world contains so much.â She stated out in awe, momentarily forgetting her grief. âThe 1-UP Mushrooms provide these people with extra lives, unfortunately they are required to be ingested before death. I will ensure that these mushrooms are part of Fatherâs diet once I bring him back. This incident will not repeat again. Iâll make sure of it.â
The book flew back to its shelf as she focused on another one.
âThe Life Shroom can bring someone back after the brink, but it requires a vessel for it to be put in . . . Bowser left no traces of my father after his attack. This one will not do.â
It was time for another book.
âThis one is a newspaper clipping? I see, the Dream Stone? It is capable of granting the user any wish that they so desire. It is reported that Bowser had stolen it only for Mario to shatter it and return the dream stone to its rightful place.â She stared over at the photograph in the paper. A triumphant Mario standing next to the reformed Dreamstone whilst Bowser was tied up and rolling his eyes. She noted that there was an indent alongside the stone and that a similar sized shape bulged against Bowserâs cheek.
He was hiding a shard of the dream stone in his mouth.
âBowser could still summon life out of nothing with just the shards of the Dream Stone. If it has as much power as this says, then this will be how I bring back Father!â
She needed to go back to the Koopa Kingdom!
A moat of lava, a castle of black stone with the face of its King carved out on top of the castle. It was so ego indulgent that it disgusted Sage. She had no problem with her own fatherâs vanity projects, she found his Death Egg Robot designed after his own face to be adorable.
But something like this?
It was far too much, not to mention that it was a reminder of the man that killed her Father and the power he still possessed. How she wanted to glass this entire Empire, if only the Eggman Fleet still existed, if only they still had the Death Egg.Â
Then she would have made them all pay.
She shook her head, pushing her thoughts of hatred to the side. She had to focus on what mattered! She had to focus on bringing back Father! Revenge could wait until another day.
With that in mind she flew through a massive pipe towards the bottom of the gargantuan structure. Hovering just above the lava as she navigated the labyrinthian system. She spotted a door and pushed through it, finding herself in some sort of dungeon. She floated along, moving further and moving silently.
âSage? Is that you?â
She froze as she heard her name uttered. She turned her head towards one of the Cells and saw Infinite, laying against the wall. She almost didnât recognize the Jackal without his ever famous mask.Â
âInfinite! You survived!â The Eggman Empire had already lost and suffered so much, she was quite thankful that Infinite was here.Â
âI had thought I casted aside my âweakâ self when the Doctor had rebuilt my body, when he fused that ruby to my very being.â He glanced down at his hand,âPower without peer, that is what I held . . . and still I lost. I am as weak as I ever have been.â
âNo! Youâre not weak Infinite! You were simply caught by surprise! The fault is mine, I should have realized that an immaterial being such as Boo would be able to do more than just haunt. It was my plan that was used and it is my fault that we lost.âÂ
A chuckle emerged from Infinite, the back of his head resting against the cold stone of his cell. âIt seems that we are both to blame. Our arrogance has truly blinded us, to think that we can rise above our place within this cold world. If you are not born with power, then you can never make it.â
âThatâs not true! Father is just a human, but he has made machines capable of contending with what others would call gods! He is proof that you can become stronger . . . Infinite, youâre not weak. Please, donât beat yourself up like this! It doesnât matter what you believe or what others believe. The facts are that you are strong, it was your power that defeated Sonic, it was your power that took over the world and whatâs more is that you survived when the Empire fell.â
Infinite stared at Sage. Her words lifted him up out of his despair, just enough to give him that small bit of hope to latch onto.
âWhere is the Doctor anyway?â
Sage looked away, âFather is . . . gone.â Her AI voice croaked with pain and grief, âThis castle contains a shard of the Dream Stone, I can use its power and wish Father back to life.â
The Jackal nodded as he processed the information,âIâm still under the Doctorâs payroll, so Iâll do my job and help you get that shard.â He smirked, noting the utter joy in Sageâs reaction.
âOf course! Let me free you right away!â She stated as she lifted up her hand and blasted the lock into smithereens.Â
Infinite stepped out of his prison,âDo you know where the shard is located?â
âI have a rough layout of the castle downloaded into my memory. It is incomplete and based off of Marioâs invasion into the castle to free Princess Peach. The layout I know is mostly from the entrance and through the traps and halls to the Throne Room. I can navigate us through the traps without any worry of triggering them.â
âBring on the traps, I will not be bested a second time by this enemy.âÂ
The duo clambered up the stairs at the end of the dungeon, pushing through a door and finding themselves in a massive hallway. It was completely littered with paintings. Each painting was a sad looking figure, their fists pressed against the canvas as if they were trying to escape.
âOur enemy has no taste in decor.â Sage supplied, making conversation with Infinite. The Jackal merely grunted in acknowledgement not at all liking the decor himself. They continued down the path and Infinite started to feel like he was being watched. He glanced from side to side, ensuring that no one was creeping up on them.
But he should have been looking up instead of looking around.
King Boo had pushed his head through the ceiling and let out a great big sadistic grin as he saw the two. They were within his hallway of horrors, all of his trophies were laid out for the world to see his victories. He took such delight in the horrified faces, permanently etched into the paintings that they were trapped in.
He let out a silent giggle as he saw Infinite, recalling how he had bested the Jackal before.Â
How cruel would it be if he did it a second time.
With that in mind he pointed his nub forward and created a thwomp right above the Jackal, sending it straight down. He heard the little girl scream in surprise and finally let out a great big laugh.
The ghost shot forward straight at Sage.
The AI turned around in an instant and shot at the ghost, her laser dissipating the being for a fraction of a second, but she realized that it ultimately did no damage.
âHalt!â She shouted at King Boo, fear creeping up within her AI Voice. King Booâs smile grew more twisted and sadistic as he enjoyed the fear. His crown shined with power as a canvas appeared, a swirling effect upon the front of it.
âWait . . . are those all real people? Trapped in paintings!?â Her voice became more horrified as she connected the dots. She flew backwards away from the ghost, her movements fueled by panic.
King Boo grinned and used his own magic to construct a wall, halting Sageâs escape. She felt as her hard light back pressed against the cold stone, her eyes wide with fear as the canvas came closer and closer.
Then without warning a Thwomp flew forward, hitting the Kingâs Crown and sending it flying off the Ghost's head. Boo twisted himself around and saw the utterly pissed off form of Infinite.
âDid you think that paltry trick would work twice!â Infinite growled out,âYour battle is with me, disgusting white creature.â
Boo glared as he moved to attack Infinite, only for Sage to grip the canvas and threw it onto Boo, trapping the Ghost inside his own painting. A painting which Infinite caught and broke over his knee, tossing it to the side.
âWho's the fraud now?â He muttered out as he continued forward, picking up the crown. He frowned as he realized that he couldnât access its power, and wondered if it was because of what manner of creature that Boo was or if it was simply magic. In any case, he destroyed the crystal. âLetâs continue, Sage.â
âR-right.â She nodded, a bit shaken up by the encounter. She lifted up her arm and blasted at the wall that King Boo made until it gave way.Â
As the wall collapsed they could hear the frantic marching of the foot soldiers. The sound of their battle and the laser blasts had alerted the castle to the intrusion. Infinite let out a curse as he stepped towards the massive oak door.
âWhere do you need to go from here?â He asked Sage.
âOnce we exit this hall we will need to head left towards the Throne Room.âÂ
â . . . No, youâll head left towards the throne room.â Infinite retorted,âIâll exit first and head right and create a distraction. You wait a minute before leaving.â With that he pushed through the door before Sage could argue against his plan.
Once outside the Hall, he was met with a group of guards.Â
âIs that all you can muster to deal with intruders? How pathetic.â He cracked his knuckles as he stepped forward,âLet me show you why Iâm called the ULTIMATE MERCENARYâ He leapt forward, his fist collided with the skull of a koopa troopa, causing it to retreat into its shell.
He then kicked the shell, sending it flying straight into a gaggle of goombas. Infinite sprinted forward, his hands came in front of him catching two hammers that were thrown his way by a hammer bro.Â
âYou fools!â He laughed, swinging down the weapon at a Charginâ Chuck and cracking that football helmet, knocking it out with a single blow. He leapt up into the air, kicking off the wall to get greater height as he tossed his hammer down at a bo-bomb below, exploding it and those around it.
âI will teach you fear! I will teach you pain!â
He relished in this carnage, monologuing and ensuring all the focus was on him. The more damage he caused, the more troops he defeated, the more attention that heâll garner.Â
The safer that Sage will be.
âInfinite.â
Sage whispered as she zoomed through the now empty halls. The sound of battle far in the distance. She felt a shred of guilt, knowing that Infinite had put himself into harms way for her sake.Â
But it was worth it.
It had to be.
She will get her father back!
The AI had no more plans as she bursted into the throne room, her gaze moving across the room as she desperately searched for the Dream Stone Shard. But all that she saw was Cubot and Orbot sweeping the floor.
âYou traitors.â
Sage growled out as she lifted her arm at them. Cubot jumped up and hid behind Orbot, who looked at her with a frown upon his face. Sageâs eyes widened slightly and she bit her lip as she suppressed her rage.
They were still family.
Even if they betrayed Father.
âWhat are you doing here, Sister?â Orbot questioned, rolling closer to his brethren. Cubot instead opted to stay a safe distance away from her. âI hope that youâre not trying to enact vengeance.â
âYeah! Youâd get scrapped! Thankfully Bowser is on vacation with his family!â Cubot spoke up, truly thankful that Bowser wasnât here. If he was, then there sister would stand no chance.
âWhat does it matter to you two. You turned your backs on Father!â Her voice then became softer,â . . . You turned your backs on me.â
Orbot and Cubot glanced over at one another, guilt soaked their circuits.Â
âWe would never turn our backs on you, sister.â Orbot promised.Â
âYeah! No matter what, youâre family! Thatâll never change!â Cubot continued.
âAnd we would love to help you anyway we can.â
âWhat? I mean of course we do!â
Sage stood there floating above them. A soft smile blossomed upon her lips. She descended down to their level. Her small arms pulled them into a hug.
âI had thought I lost you as well . . . I feared that I was alone.â Her voice wavered. After a moment she spoke again,âThere is a way to bring back Father. Bowser is in possession of a Dream Stone Shard. Do you know where it would be held?âÂ
She asked them.
Orbot scratched his head whilst Cubot rubbed his chin in thought. Then they both raised up a finger, coming to the conclusion at the same time.
âItems of such power are held in Kameks study. Itâs to protect them from the prying grasp of the koopalings.â
âYeah, those kids are nothing but trouble makers! Theyâre not nearly as well behaved as you are.â
Sage nodded, processing this information. Her mouth formed a frown, realizing that Kamek had survived their encounter. She questioned how little damage their invasion force had caused, truly she led her father to doom with her strategy.
But she can fix this.
âWhere is his study?â Sage demanded and was led straight there by the two robots. They talked and joked amongst themselves and Sage felt for a moment that everything had returned to normal.
Reality of course came crashing back to her once they were in front of the door.
âLet us take care of it, sister.â Orbot told her.
âYeah, youâve already done so much!â Cubot supplied.
Sage nodded and took a couple step back, letting the duo take lead in this. Orbot raised up his fist and knocked on the door.
âLord Kamek! It is time for your room to be cleaned.â
âYeah, yâdonât want to get it all dusty! Itâs bad for your health!â
From behind the door a grumbling could be heard. It opened and there stood a tired Kamek, clad in silk pajamas. âWhat is the meaning of this? The weekly cleaning of my study is to happen tomo-âÂ
The Wizard was cut off as both Bots shot their fists forward, punching him in the face and knocking him out. Sage thanked her brothers and zoomed into the room, she was frantic as she searched throughout the room. She forced every chest open until she came upon the multi-colored shard.
âItâs here.âÂ
She felt like crying as she clutched it close to her chest.Â
But she couldnât cry, not yet.Â
She still needed to escape with her prize. She once again thanked her brothers before bursting out of the room. She calculated the quickest route out of the castle and it was through the trapped hall.
That was the one she chose.
Past the thwomps, over the lava geysers, avoiding the chain chomps, shooting down the Bullet Bills and straight to the door. The guards left in this hall were minimal, most of them were still engaged in battle with Infinite. And those that were left could not hope to keep up with Sage.Â
She made it to the outside.
Freedom.
She could taste it.
She could feel the cold air.
All she needed to do now was get a safe distance away from the castle and then she can wish her father back! She could envision him now, his proud smile as he pat her head!
That dream was soon dashed as she felt something hard collide with her back, sending her down and into the grass. She gasped, turning over to see the Elite Trio. A Goomba, A Koopa and a Shy Guy. The Koopa smirked as he pressed his foot down against her chest, preventing her from escaping.
âLook who we caught.â
âIsnât she the girl that was helping that mad scientist? She shot that beam that threatened to destroy the whole Koopa Kingdom, didnât she?â
âYeah, and weâll be promoted when we turn her into Bowser.â
Sage shivered in fear, tears of frustration streaming down her face. âPlease! Let me go!â She was so close, so close to getting back her family!
âNuh-huh, no way!â
âYou already got away once, do you think weâll actually let you get away a second time? Especially after invading the Kings castle!?â
âBesides, if we get promoted we might become Kamekâs boss!â
The Shy Guy leaned down, his arms coming out to grab Sage as she let out a scream, desperate to escape their grasp.
âFATHER!â
She cried out.
âNo oneâs going to save you.â
âYouâre all alone.â
âSo just make it eas-â The Koopa was interrupted as a hand gripped the back of his neck. He felt himself get lifted up into the air before being slammed into the ground. The Shy Guy and Goomba turned in alarm and saw Dr. Ivo Robotnik looming over them, his eyes narrowed in complete and utter rage.Â
âGet your grubby mitts off my daughter!â He roared out, his foot launching into the mask of the Shy Guy. The Goomba jumped up with fear and turned around, looking to escape the Fatherâs wrath . . . but he was far too slow. Eggman had grabbed him by the head, bashing him into a tree.Â
Sage blinked as she stared up, surprise in her eyes. âF-father?â She uttered out with disbelief.
The man kneeled down in front of her, gifting her with a gentle smile,âYes, Sage, I am here.â He assured her. The little girl shot forward into her fathers arms. Her form shuddered as she sobbed against his chest.
âI thought . . . I thought I would never see you again!â She cried,âYou were dead and it was all my fault.â
His hand came down on top of her head, fingers running through her digitized hair. âIt was never your fault, Sage. How could it ever be your fault, youâre still but a child.â He told her, âYou are a genius, but you still need to experience and grow. I on the other hand am the ruler of the Eggman Empire, all failures fall onto my shoulder. The blame lies solely with me.â
She sniffled slightly as she stared up at her Father, clutching onto him as if her life depended on it.
âThere is one thing I donât understand.â Eggman muttered out,âHow am I back alive and how am I here?â He asked, giving Sage something new to focus on.
âI stole this Dream Stone Shard from Bowser and used it to wish you back, Father.â She said as she held out said shard. Eggman gripped it and looked it over. It was no longer the vibrant multi-colored shard it once was. It was now a lifeless grey color, devoid of all power.
âSeems that itâs out of juice, but it might still be useful to have if we ever find a way to refill it.â Eggman smiled and ruffled Sageâs hair.
âItâs out of power?â Sage pouted,âI wanted to wish for Brother to be back as well.â
Eggman hummed out in thought. He glanced around the area as his glasses flared to life. He let out a smirk,
âThereâll be no need for that, daughter. Metal is still functional, I can detect his S.O.S signal. Heâs most likely too injured to move, but his AI seems to be fully operational. Weâll be able to repair him.â
Sage beamed as she took in this information. She didnât have the ability that Eggmanâs glasses had, after all this world had no Eggnet connected to it. She felt a bit lost without the Eggnet.
âI see, you completed your mission.âÂ
The father and daughter duo jumped in surprise. They turned around to see a limping Infinite head their way, Orbot and Cubot were on either side of him, helping to support his body.
âWhat are you looking at?â Infinite muttered out,âWe need to go. I jammed their door shut, but it wonât hold them forever.âÂ
Eggman nodded.Â
He offered his hand over to Sage.
âLetâs go grab Metal and head home, dear daughter.â
Sage smiled and accepted his hand.
âHome. I like the sound of that.â
#death battle#sage#eggman#infinite#sage needs a hug#sonic#mario#princess peach#elite trio#fanfic#orbot and cubot#dr ivo robotnik#dealing with grief
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HAIR TIE - MS
No Nut November - Day 19
NNN Masterlist...
-†Matt learns how to braid his daughters hair
Taking care of an adorable baby girl was always Mattâs dream, he had always practiced how to take care of a baby. All their requirements, meanings of behaviour, that man could write an essay. One thing that he hadnât prepared for was his child growing up. Their characteristics started to change and meanings had been rewritten. He felt almost inadequate.
Mila would reach up into your arms and would simultaneously cower from his. She hadnât meant it of course. Mothers have a natural connection to their child; they supply them with everything they need. All he wanted was to be included.
When you went on a trip with one of your friends, Matt was prepared. He knew the routine you had begun with Mila, waking her up, having breakfast and then getting her ready for the day.
Breakfast was easy enough. A slice to toast was cut into little strips with a boiled egg that was still runny inside. Matt typically made breakfast, so this was an easy feat. But when it came to getting Mila ready, his confidence was struck.
âWhich outfit today, baby? We have Bluey and black leggings orâŠPeppa Pig and pink leggings.â He held up the pair of outfits to either side of his body, letting her see them first hand.â
âBluey!â She practically jumped at and down at the reminder of her favourite show, even Matt wasnât surprised that it was the choice.
Mila lifted up her arms so that the shirt could be placed over her head. When it was one, she was sure to pull it into her eyesight, giggling as she named each the characters.
âSweetie how do you want your hair done today?â His daughter tapped her chin as she pondered slightly âBraids please.â
Shit. That was the one style Matt prayed she wouldnât utter. He had tried continuously to attempt the style, knowing it was Milaâs favourite and yet he couldnât grasp it. The hair never twisted right and it looked a mess most of the time. With you no longer there to aid him, he felt a tighten in his chest. âOf course, just sit there mâkay?â
Mila nodded exaggeratedly before bringing her attention to the miscellaneous items displayed over the vanity. He wasnât about to say no to his daughter and YouTube was the first thing he pulled up. Every other time he had tried to braid was through your own voiced aid, this was his next best shot.
The video played on a low volume and he watched intently as he brushed through her hair. Following the instructions, he parted her hair evenly down the centre which created two even sections. To simplify things further, he tied a small band around the bunch of hair, hoping that he wouldnât get confused.
Over. Under. Over. Matt repeated it like a mantra, chanting with the video so he didnât get lost. Thankfully, her hair wasnât insanely long or thick which aided the trial and error. His fingers twiddled the piece of hair and when the band was wrapped around whatever was left, he admired it. Sure, it wasnât perfect, the odd strand poking out but it was a braid.
With astound confidence, he moved swiftly onto the next braid. Matt backtracked the video and tried again, remembering to tighten how he held the strands so that it wasnât fall like the other. It was progress and he couldnât ask for anything else.
âThere you go, look good?â
âYes! Thanks daddy!â Her words were joyous as she picked each of his accomplishments up and looked down at them with crossed eyes.
âAnything for you, babyâŠâ
@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @jassturn @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @ribread03 @slutf4rmatt @spaghetti835928383 @flouvela
© ENDEREIES 2024
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Endereies NNN#©endereies#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt x reader#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo angst#matt sturniolo smut#chris x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturiolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo smut#x reader#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo fluff#sturniolo hurt/comfort#sturniolo resolved angst#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets imagines#sturniolo x reader#endereies
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IFHY- jude bellingham and y/n
part 2.
â â â â â â â â â
summary on part 2: you and jude have been back dating for a couple months now, everything going perfect until recently when jude started to act a bit cold and distant, completely the opposite to his usual self. he was barely asking to see you, only replying to your texts with one or two words that seem really un interested. You notice his behaviour and do your best to try and ask him without turning it into an argument like the past times because you both agreed to handle stuff more maturely a while ago.
NOTES: i added his pov too seeing as y/nâs part was really short
â â â â â â â â â
I woke up after a good sleep, stretching and groaning as I observed around my bedroom looking out the window at the beautiful sunrise coming up, then with a smile I grabbed my phone and pulled up judeâs number, texting him a quick messsge saying âGoodmorning, do you wanna do something today? the two of us?â and sent it with excitement hoping for a yes, and for once, an enthusiastic one.
After I got out of the shower and wrapped myself into a towel, my phone dinged with a text back from jude, I unlocked my phone and clicked onto it just to see the reply being âyeah, alright. sounds good.â dry and boring, again. ânot even a goodmorning back..?â I mutter to myself rolling my eyes then my fingers hover over the keyboard again sending back a âOkay, our usual cafe at 4, donât be late.â With a heart at the end, the cafe was me and judeâs special spot.
I got into a comfortable outfit as it was pretty cold outside, just a casual ralph lauren polo sweater and some sweatpants, my go to outfit on cold days. I brushed my teeth, did my skincare, makeup and put my hair in a high ponytail and curled the end bits of it for detail, then made my way to the kitchen to get myself something for breakfast, I decided on just apple juice and an açai bowl.
After finishing breakfast I washed the dishes, then made my way over to grab my coat and my purse and make my way to the mall so I could go shopping before meeting with jude, I grabbed my car keys then made my way out of the door locking the door behind me and unlocking my car, my car was a beautiful dark purple bmw m3 g80.
I drove to the mall then I parked my car and made my to the first store I liked, I picked up a couple pieces of clothing such as sweaters and leggings, some makeup like a new lip liner, mascara and moisturiser and some earrings and a necklace. Before leaving to go meet jude I walked to the mini real madrid store and got jude a teddy with a real madrid jersey on it hoping he would like it.
Soon after I made my way to the cafe after putting all my shopping bags in the car but for the one for jude, when I got in he was already waiting for me at our usual table and I walked over slowly with a warm smile, âhii, I feel like itâs been so long since iâve seen you, and I got you something.â I greeted jude and handed him the bag, he glanced up at me âhey y/n , you didnât have to do that you know?â He smiled slightly and took the bag carefully.
I watched him open it, smiling ear to ear unable to wait for his reaction, he opened it slowly and took the teddy out, this time a more expressive smile on his face. âaw, itâs cute, thank youâ he said slowly and softly I sat down shortly after and we ordered lunch, I got a caesar salad and he got a steak, I still wondered about his low energy thinking about if I should speak up or not.
About an hour later we finished our meals and when we paid the bill and stood up walking eachother out I turned to him and asked âdo you wanna come over for a bit? pretty bored alone at homeâ Jude glanced around then spoke up âyeah sureâ he replied with a gentle smile. We got in my car and I drove us back to my place.
He helped me carry my bags from shopping into the house and set them on my bed for me after I thanked him, I leaned against the doorframe to my bedroom finally seeing a chance to ask him about it so I spoke up âhey jude? can we talk? i feel like youâve been really distant towards me recently.â my voice was slightly shaky as I spoke and a nervous tone settled in the words, jude turned around.
âdistant? how?â He asked walking a couple steps towards me slowly, instantly defensive. âI donât know. youâve barely been texting me or asking me to meet you anymore, you didnât even text goodmorning back today.â I spoke back quickly.
âIâm a busy person, y/n, not everything in my life revolves around you, I canât always be with you.â he answered to me, his eyes narrowing as he inspected me carefully while talking, âright, I know that jude, itâs just hard with it being so one sided.â Jude stepped closer again âYou canât deal with it? because if you canât then maybe that just means we shouldnât be together.â He spoke with a straight forward tone leaning down to me.
âThatâs not what I was trying to say, Judeâ I spoke quickly, âNo, it dosenât matter, because honestly, iâm too busy for you right now y/n, im sorry but I just canât balance you with everything else currently, weâre done, sorry.â Jude replied hesitantly but seeming sure of his words as he stepped back to grab his coat leaving me with nothing to say back but to just stand there and accept the fact that heâs gone from my life, again. he walked out of the house.
â â â â â â â â â â
JUDES POV.
â â â â â â â â â â
I woke up exhausted after spending hours in training and gym yesterday, my legs in pain from all leg cardio i did as thatâs what I mainly focus on when working on at the moment, I groaned loudly as I rolled around the bed for a moment before sitting up to stretch widely and yawning.
I made my way to the bathroom and took a quick shower to wake me up then got changed into a casual but stylish outfit, black ripped jeans and a black hoodie with graffiti design on it. I brushed my teeth and did my usual morning routine that I was used to doing and then my phone dinged, a text from y/n saying âGoodmorning. do you wanna do something today? the two of us?â
I wasnât really in the mood for anything today, but I didnât see her for ages so I didnât want to just turn her down like that, so I texted a reply back that was simple and straight forward saying âyeah, alrightâ, she texted me back with the time and location to meet at and I hearted the message.
I made my way to the kitchen and turned my playlist on while I made breakfast, I made pancakes with maple syrup and a fruit bowl on the side with a coffee next to it. I enjoyed the meal slowly as I checked up on socials and answered a couple brand deals and texts from teammates.
I made my way to the sofa and layed down on it and switched to a tv show instead of my playlist, catching up on the new episodes iâve missed and just binging until it was time to leave my house later on.
At around 3:40 I grabbed my coat and threw it on as I made my way out the door and turned to lock it then left, the cafe was a quick walk so instead of taking my car I walked there, feeling every bit of wind breeze through my hoodie as I walked.
I got there a couple minutes before y/n did so I took a seat at our usual table where we have most of our dates and scrolled on instagram as I waited patiently for her since she had a couple minutes left until it was 4:00.
A couple minutes she walked in with a bag hanging down by her hand and I put my phone down to glance at it curiously, I admired every part of her as she walked and let her know I did by simply telling her she looked beautiful. She handed me the bag and I pulled out a teddy with a mini jersey that had my name on it, I felt a smile on my face automatically even while I was having an off day she still managed to make me smile.
We ordered lunch for ourselves and spoke as we ate, just casual small talk about life and so on, when we finished eating she offered me to come to her place for a bit as she was bored at home all day by herself, I simply agreed as it wasnât so much of an issue.
The car ride to her house was mostly silent, not an awkward silence just a normal one, I spent most of the ride admiring the way her hair fell perfectly in a high ponytail and how much the colour of her sweater suits her, she was always looking amazing to me, itâs a thing I liked about her, that she knows she dosenât need to try for me because no matter what iâll think sheâs perfect.
When we got to her house I helped bring her shopping bags up to her bedroom and placed them onto her bed where she usually wants them placed, I could tell y/n had something on her mind today, but I didnât really ask about it thinking that I just thought everyone else is off because I was too. Until she spoke up, âhey jude? can we talk? i feel like youâve been really distant towards me recently.â
I turned to her slowly, glancing straight at her eyes as they usually showed me how she was feeling, she was nervous and obviously upset. I walked closer towards her as I spoke âdistant? how?â I could tell myself that I was instantly getting defensive, I hated being called out on stuff I donât notice myself and itâs hard for me to handle it.
She spoke again, âI donât know. youâve barely been texting me or asking me to meet you anymore, you didnât even text goodmorning back today.â I looked down embarrassed, I knew she was right, I just hated admitting it, so I didnât, even though I knew it hurts more to argue about it rather than me just apologising and making it up to her.
I looked up again and replied quickly, âIâm a busy person, y/n, not everything in my life revolves around you, I canât always be with you.â I knew it was wrong to say all of that to her, she was my girlfriend and she dosenât deserve those words from me at all, after all, all she does is try her best to make me happy on my bad days, but I never did it back properly and I know those words hurt her.
She looked down for a minute then back around the room as she started talking slowly, âright, I know that jude, itâs just hard with it being so one sidedâŠâ I hated how she called it one sided, so much, even though she was right, and she was only telling me how it felt in her position, but it really annoyed me especially while I was already not having a good day today.
I snapped at her, not meaning to,âYou canât deal with it? because if you canât then maybe that just means we shouldnât be together.â I exclaimed sharply, my voice more focused now, I didnât show any emotion while saying everything to her because I didnât realise what I was saying until it was too late.
âNo, thatâs not what iâm trying to say jude, please!â She replied, her voice hurt and her eyes getting teary. âNo, it dosenât matter, because honestly, iâm too busy for you right now y/n, im sorry but I just canât balance you with everything else currently, weâre done, sorry.â I spoke back quickly, everything came falling out at once and I meant none of it, but I only realised when tears started streaming down her face and she looked straight down not replying, I showed no emotion but it hurt, badly.
I couldnât deal with watching her cry over me being stupid once again and messing it up between us. I grabbed my coat and hurried past her and out of her house before I started tearing up too, knowing that inside she really needed comfort, and I also messed up by not giving her any.
I fucked up, badly.
â â â â â â â â â â
IFHY- jude bellingham and y/n.
part 2.
#jude bellingham#romance#real madrid#jude x reader#enemies to lovers#lovers to enemies#football#bellingham x reader
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Giggling from under her breath as she glanced over in the direction of the employee who was already looking around the shop for the pieces of lingerie requested. Happily taking the handful of pieces presented to her from the worker, Catherine thanked them with a smile, her eyes looking over the different pieces happily. "I'll let you see each of them on me for sure." Leaning over in order to press a kiss against his cheek, she looked over to where the changing rooms were set up. "Ah, perfect." Heading towards one of the empty rooms, she looked to him with playful wink. "Let me find the perfect piece to show off first." Humming to herself as she shut the door behind her, she placed the different pieces onto the stool in the changing room. Her eyes instantly being drawn to a lavender two piece that was seemingly more strappy than anything with a hint of lace in certain areas. "I think I found it~." She spoke in a sing song tone, loud enough for him to hear her as she slipped off her outfit along with her scarf, hanging them onto the hooks in the room. "There's not much too it, but I suppose that's what makes it exciting." She laughed slightly to herself, while taking off the lingerie she had worn out. It didn't take Catherine long to slip on the new lavender pieces, before looking over her shoulder into the full length mirror behind her, her hands coming up to adjust her hair before reaching to open the door ever so slightly in order to look out to him. "I hope it looks okay." Snickering a bit, she signaled him into the room before opening the door enough to reveal herself to him.
She was trying so hard to make sure the driver doesnât notice, so adorable. Dio began to make casual small talk with the driver as his fingers slipped deeper inside Catherine, moving in and out slowly, getting her more and more aroused all while acting like nothing was going on.
Then they suddenly hit a bump on the road, this made Dioâs fingers go in deep and hard into her all of a sudden. The cab driver apologized and Dio kept on talking like normal but would Catherine be able to handle this? They were only halfway to there destination action at the moment. The vampire occasionally glancing at her, each time w with predatory eyes that made it clear he was loving what he was doing to her.
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Jack Quaid as Boimler | Strange New Worlds: Those Old Scientists
#those sparkly fanboy eyes have bewitched me#i need to see him cry#ANYWAY#cara gifs#bradward boimler#jack quaid#lower decks#strange new worlds#those old scientists#that one piece of hair out of place is so perfect#how dare they#his little excited bounce???#i mean cmon#[some thirsty tag tbd]#baby boims
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i would take their poison
Sketch + Line Art for those Clicking Under the Cut(tm) (archival purposes honestly)
#moshi monsters#sweet tooth moshi monsters#experimentation i am COG AWFUL at digital dear goodness i was playing with coloring and transparency and all those fun digital doodads.#next time i probably wont have black outline or i'll do it differently. or i'll try well. not doing this. it sure was a process im#i'm an amateur everyone who masically only doodles. does the sketch look better than the final. kinda! but thats okay because im learning#and y'know what. sometimes in life you just need to draw faves no consequences#for how saturated a character they are i kinda feel like i pastelled things too muc and trapped myself with my convoluted layer setup but m#it was looking WEIRD with everything at full force#maybe the sparkles look dumb maybe the hair looks dumb and out of place and why i kinda made the lollipop a little funky too#uhh. first digital piece posted... ever?#the arm is SO fucky i am not that was. thats not what perspective is spam#yes this is what i spent a good chunk of today doing after i started working on coloring it and then. decided to go for it.#cooolrs a little inaccurate on the horns and such but man one of the biggest art things was like#i dont have to have everything at their perfect hex codes all the time. this would look way worse if i just. used their standard colors#yeah this is. instead of looking like its forward and to the right it kinda just looks like they have a Bigger hypno-lolly#especialy becase. i did not bother on the gloves and platforms i the sparkles work with 2 kinda sorta but you know#im practicing! i'm learning! i'll get better and learn how to do things more effectively!#anyway. sweet toof#though hey their arm looks even more fucked in the line art and sketch SO#note to future self have a Consistent Line Art Size so that if you feel like the line art looks like shit during coloring you dont have to#gamble on what size it was while changing it#sketch lollipop looks better i should have kept it small. but its fine. we'll get em next time boys (tm)#yes i know my gif post was so fancy and then the drawing is just THIS
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this post is not gonna be well put together but i am having feelings
mean girls is trending right now because the musical movie just came out and i feel insane. idk why i do, it was stupid of me to think that most people Got It, no one ever gets it, it was always about the memes and the aesthetic.
the first mean girls movie was based on a nonfiction book called queen bees and wannabes. it interviewed and discussed the social hierarchy system in teen girl friendships. how they hold each other to these insane standards of heternormative femininity out of sheer terror that they won't meet those standards themselves. the way they leverage their relationships for some small degree of power in a world designed to strip them of it, even if it drags other girls down.
the "you can only wear your hair in a ponytail once a week and on wednesdays we wear pink" speech was not an original creation for the script. it's a QUOTE from a real teenage girl. those were REAL RULES.
then the musical came, and it was one step removed from the intended messaging of the film. OG mean girls was not perfect (and was extremely racist), but it said what needed said. the musical leaned on the comedy more, but still left a heartfelt undertone, and still critiqued the systems in place. of course no piece of media is going to be perfect, but it was about the conversation.
then this new movie comes out and it is washed over in the veneer of white hollywood feminism so thick you can't see anymore. the problematic aspects of the original movie are taken out to avoid "offending" when the offense was the point. it becomes toothless, it becomes some other thing entirely. they changed karen's line "i expect to run the world in shoes i cannot walk in" to "watch me as i run the world in shoes i cannot walk in." because choice feminism is in vogue, suddenly this character whose entire point is that she doesn't think deeply about WHY she does anything is suddenly hip to the fact that the world is against her.
i think of sokka losing his misogyny arc in the new atla. i think of the Heathers remake casting the bitchy, identical heathers as queer and hollywood-fat outcasts. as if the story, the meaning, the allegory is hidden in the sets and the jokes and the music. it's a whole new thing now, and it's a thing that means nothing in particular.
the plastics should not wear jeans. they should not have curves. their queerness should be suppressed, painful. their sexuality is not a slay, it's the only thing they think they have of value. the santa dance isn't sexy, it's shocking, it's mortifying - they are children.
they're not mean because "we are all mean." they are mean because they are girls in a world that brutalizes them and crushes them into a standardized shape. they are mean because the world is mean to them. they are mean because it gives them some power back. they are mean because it's the only weapon they have.
the landscape of femininity today has shifted to camera-ready makeup at the age of 10, stringent performative hygiene standards, and avoiding being caught on film while having a genuine emotion. the consumerism, the fatphobia, the racism, the classism, the homophobia remain. We could have had a conversation about that.
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need u to know that while i've written various words about this in my google docs, i woke up the other morning needing a slight break but also wanting the same world, and so naturally my brain was like.
oh. daryl wakes up at the start of the end. again.
for the second time.
and his first thought is fuck no. we're not doing this again.
but then he actually takes stock of the situation, using all his senses and his insticts that have grown so sharp over the years, and realises, it's different this time.
this time; his throats fucked, forever hoarse, after that run he went on that turned out to be an ambush, and denise and hershel told him he was lucky he could still talk, that he was lucky he even survived, after how deep the wire cut.
he's still got the scar on his hand from the fight with the claimers, when they stumbled upon him in that house in the woods and had him at knifepoint, and he's sure if he was to check, he'd have the scar of his back from them, too.
his entire body aches, feeling every bit of his fifty four years, and then some, and, his hair's long, a complete mess falling in his eyes.
finally stretches his awareness to the rest of the tent and realisesâhe's not alone. that there's an entire body basically on top of him, weighing him down, except it's a breathing pattern he knows and a heartbeat he takes comfort in, something so familiar and so ingrained into his body and brainâhis heartâthat he doesn't even think to register it as danger.
looks down at his daughter asleep on his chest and curls his arms around her protectively, breathing her in.
as long as she's in his arms, she's safe. he'll die making sure thats certain.
focuses back on the tentâthe shitty, measly, bullshit tent that he pitched all the way back at the startâand thinks, fuck.
anyway! just the idea of the first time daryl woke up in the apocalypse, it was after losing almost everything, after he had so little left; that when he woke up, he looked around and saw it for the second chance it was, and took it.
that he never, not once, tried to go back.
like, sure, there was the occasional thought, especially at the start, when he was missing judith and rj. dog. the few other pieces of his family that had survived alongside him, that he'd left behind. but when it came down to it, he never put any real effort into trying to find out why he was there or how to get back. never figured out why him and carol and maggie and a few others got to start again, with all their memories still intact.
they just took it for what it was and used every memory to their advantage. built every bit of their future with the knowledge they had, and created something.
and it was good.
not perfect, some smaller disasters getting lost in the chaos of the wars, but for the most part, it worked.
it was as close to perfect as they were ever gonna get.
they saved so many of their nearest and dearest, and their family lived.
not just survivedâlived.
the second chance was everything they needed to thrive.
except now, he's here, in his stupid fucking tentâagainâand he's lived a hundred different lifetimes, or at least two more than he ever thought he would, and his daughterâhis daughterâis in his arms, and he needs to go back.
needs to go back to before.
he doesn't want a third chance.
they got it right the second time.
he doesn't want to build everything from scratch again, lay the foundations of their future brick by brick just so he can hopefully, eventually, maybe, one day, get his family back.
doesn't want to have to fight and claw and beg and wait for his future, doesn't know if he could live through it all again.
just wants to wrap his kid up tight and take her home, where their family is alive and happy and thriving, their community so fucking warm and full, everyone having a job to do and everyone having a place to call home.
thinks, not for the first time, time travel is fucking bullshit.
time travel fix it au's are done to death in this fandom but also they're my favourite thing in the world so au where the entire show happens as is and it's heartbreaking and inspiring etc but then. restart button. waking back up at the start of the end except only the people that lived remember
wanna think about what would happen when daryl and carol wake up at camp, remembering everything that happened; carol stronger, knowing in her gut that everything that she remembers is real, and daryl fucking terrified, because if everything in his head actually happened, then what the fuck is this
wanna think about a rick dragging a hostile merle and a wide-eyed glenn back to camp, memories completely intact, and running to reunite with his family. not letting daryl go and hugging carol so so so tight, collapsing to the ground with carl in his arms
wanna think about them dragging the atlanta group to the farm, maggie leaving the front porch light on for them, and everyone reuniting. rick seeing hershel again, daryl seeing beth, carol pulling sophia close, and maggie being unable to even breath, looking at glenn
wanna think about them tossing up whether to even go to the prison, but they met important people there, and alexandria's a long way, and if they're gonna survive this timeâif they're gonna liveâthey're gonna do it right
so they go to the prison so they can figure out their next step, and michonne's there and waiting, andre on her hip, and they deal with the governor before the governor deals with them, and sasha and tyresse finally show up, they find the prisoners, and then one day they get a knock on the front gate, and it's negan
negan showing up, no baseball bat in hand but his leather jacket still in place, a sick but alive lucille by his side, laura and doctor franklin behind him, and all he's got to say is at the end of the world, i know which side i wanna be on
the fallout of that, of maggie being against it, of rick never having gotten to see negan at the end, not knowing the choices he made, the good and the bad. daryl and carol looking at glenn, seeing him alive and in love and having no memory of his last moments, and never wanting anything to ruin that, but negan saved judiths life, helped save all their lives. he chose, in the end, and now it's their turn
wanna think about a future where beth doesn't die, but they go on a rescue mission to get noah anyway. a future where tara turns up with her niece, led by eugene with abraham and rosita following right behind him
wanna think about how they'd handle terminus, how they'd handle the claimers. wanna think about them trying to find father gabriel, except gabe made it the first time around, and he wasn't wasting his second chance. he saved his flock, and he led them to alexandria, and he's waiting
wanna think of connie's group searching for hilltop. not finding maggie, or alden, but finding jesus. wanna think about lydia, being a fucking child, and watching her mother kill her dad, and remembering aaron telling her how loved she was
wanna think of the growing pains of them being able to save so many more family members this time, but god, a larger group is harder to keep alive
daryl trying to run interference with merle and everyone else, getting the jack of it one day and telling him he's already mourned him once, and he won't again. if merle wants to stayâto liveâthen it's up to him. daryl's not gonna babysit him anymore
rick trying to find his footing between lori and shane and judith, with carl, with michonne and andre. michonne looking at a weak but alive lori grimes holding a screaming and crying newborn in her arms, and knowing that she's never gonna be her daughter the way she was before, but knowing she'll always be something to her
carol struggling to be the mother sophia needs her to be, emotions too sharp and constantly fucking terrified. doesn't know how to hold onto someone like that anymore, either gripping too tight or not at all
maggie trying to exist in a world where she has everyone she's ever loved back, so close and so fucking dear, except it cost her her son. not knowing if she'll ever get him back at all. doesn't know how to live with the grief of losing someone she never technically had in this world
they make it to alexandria and it's aaron opening the gate for them, waiting to welcome them home
#this is all a lie btw because getting into the plot that i've thought of would mean expanding the plot of my original post#and everything that happens there; and well. i'm not doing that#but i just think that the idea of daryl waking up at the start of the end the first time#back in his original body; short haired and young and so fucking Weak; with so much fucking grief from what he's lived through#only to like. Fix Things. be Prepared for the wars to comeâthe troubles they faceâand be able to fight back#and like. build a life. a life he fights for every day because its so fucking dear to him.#he has kids! he has family! he saved merle! saved beth! hershels thriving! him and aaron went out and searched for lydia#to bring her home! ricks alive! him and michonne raising their four kids! glenns helping maggie run hilltop!#everythings what it should be!!!! they finally built the future they always dreamed they could have!!!!#hes found Peace.#only to wake up#AGAIN; the start of the end#but like. this time. hes not young and hes not weak but dear GOD has he forgotten how deep the grief used to run#he's got all his scars hes got all his pain. but jesus christ.#he knows love. he knows how much he has to lose this time. he knows he has something to fight to get back to.#okay there's so much more plot but like. then i'd have to explain things. and im too lazy for that.#just know. it's there.#anyway tldr my mind was like. daryl wakes up at the start in his s1 body with nothing but grief only to fix (mostly) everything#only to wake up AGAIN but this time. in s11 body. still got grief but also got back aches and 20+ years worth of apocolyptic nightmares#but still. so much hope.#feel like 80% of this revolves around daryl and his kids/partner so i cant dig deep but. just know. its FUN for me.#ALSO i think itd be fun for shane and everyone to meet s11 daryl. like. Imagine.
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you're sweating when you wake up, skin sticking painfully to your bedsheets as your bleary eyes dart around, attempting to make focus of your surroundings. the room is still dark, barely touched by the slight bit of moonlight that attempts to peak through the closed windowsâdefiant. it takes a minute to realize that the sounds that are breaking the silence are actually coming from your own throatâbreathy, wheezing gasps of terror.
your stomach drops when your fingers grip cold and empty fabric. he's gone he's gone he's goâ
"what are you doing up, pretty?"
your head snaps to the doorway. satoru stands there, sweats hanging low on his hips even as his hand remains curled around a glass of water. his hair is tousled with sleep, but his cerulean eyes are sharp and lively.
as soon as he sees the panic lacing your expression, his eyes widen, long legs practically tripping over themselves as he stumbles towards you.
"what happened?" he asks sharply, frantically placing the cup on the bedside table to take your face into his palms. shades of blue dart back and forth across your features as he perches one knee on the mattress and peers down at you. "are you okay?"
his touch sends electricity through your veinsâa splash of ice water pulling you away from that painful reverie.
your heart both clenches and soars, the idea of what you saw being terrifying, and yet finding out it wasn't true being that much more relieving.
"i justâ" your voice comes out choked, and satoru's fingers twitch against your skin imperceptibly. "had a bad dream."
you think your brain must be cruel for conjuring up a dream in which satoru could suffer to such abhorrent extents.
"oh sweets." satoru's sigh is sympathetically soft, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek just barely. "it was just a nightmare."
"i know," you swallow, voice shaking. there's an uncharacteristic wetness pooling at your waterline. "i-it just felt so real."
"baby..." satoru immediately pulls you against the steady planes of his chest, thick arms snaking around your waist to eliminate any measly amount of distance between you two. you prop your chin on his shoulder, sighing as you feel his snowy hair tickling at your cheek.
"it wasn't real, sweetheart," he says, pulling back just slightly to push a piece of hair from your face. his thumb then drags under your eyes, wiping away the unshed tears. "see. you're here, i'm here. everything's all good."
"yeah." you're nodding, unable to take your eyes off of him because he's real and alive and so breathtakingly perfect. "yeah, you're right."
he gives you a lopsided smile, eyes bright and glowing. "i don't like to brag, but i usually am."
you snort out a laugh, missing the way his expression turns pleased at the sound. "hilarious. you love to brag."
"you got me there," he shrugs, grinning as you stick your tongue out at him. the lighthearted banter solidifies the fact that satoru is fine and unharmed and completely yours, but you can still feel the apprehension coursing through your veins. chills run up your spineâyou try not to show it.
but of course, satoru has always been able to see right through you.
his teasing smile goes soft, and he inhales deeply.
"was it about me?" he asks, climbing into bed next you. you lay back down carefully.
"yeah," you mumble, watching him tug the blankets over your body and tuck you both under a cocoon of warmth.
"hm." something in his tone tells you he's not unfamiliar with the feelings you seem to be experiencingâhis body shifts closer to yours. ocean eyes carefully asses you, deep and calculating and so concerned even as he smoothes a warm palm over your shoulder blades. "wanna tell me what happened?"
the truth is you do want to, because satoru has always understood you better than you've ever understood yourselfâyou have no doubt he'd be able to comfort you just as well as he normally does.
and yet...
"no," you answer, pressing your nose into his neck. a deep breath in, the lively scent that is so inherently your gojo satoru filling your very soul. "it's okay. i think i'll be fine."
when you shut your eyes, images flash behind themâof bloodied bodies and stitches and swapped souls. yet a chaste kiss to your forehead pulls you back to where you're supposed to be, warm and grounding.
"i know you'll be fine," satoru murmurs, lips tickling your brow as he speaks. you think you can hear the gentle smile as he says it, and your grip on him tightensânever letting go. "i'm right here after all."
#COPING BY WRITING MY OWN CANON LETS GOOOO#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo fluff#jjk#jjk x you#gojo satoru headcanons#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen x you#satoru gojo x reader#jjk drabbles#gojo drabbles#gojo#satoru gojo x you#gojo x you
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"in every life"
curse reincarnation, fluff
ryomen sukuna x reader
Synopsis: you, a former sorcerer and sukuna's wife, are killed in the heian era. sukuna does not believe in a life without you, so he takes it upon himself to bring you back a thousand years later
to sum it up: you are sukuna's life, and no matter how long he has to wait, he will bring you back to him by any means necessary
WC: 3,621
Warning(s): angst in the beginning, reader death (but you're revived), brief icky descriptions of a vessel's possession
-> ask | sukuna fic list
Sukuna remembers the exact moment you left him, soul fluttering almost gracefully from your eyes as your body fell limply into his four arms.
The moment replays in his mind as though it had only happened yesterday, or perhaps as recently as a few hours prior. Time has never been something the king of curses worried himself over, for his strength and existence exceeded such mortal constructs, but when his thoughts wander to you as frequently as air fills and deflates from his lungs, the very concept grows skewed and suddenly, time is a matter of great importance to him.
A king is nothing without his queen beside him, his rock, his partner, and that is what you are. That is what you were, but Sukuna refuses to address you in any form of past tense because your temporary withdrawal from the planet and from his side would never alter the fact that you are his, that you have been his, and that you will be his until the end of time.Â
Sukuna has never been one for romantics, for connections that tie his free spirit down from the unfettered, terrifying rule that he leads, but when you entered his life, his opinions shifted and his ambitions changed, making room for you at his side upon his throne.Â
The two of you had been married for years before you left him. Sukuna had never bothered to count, but now he finds himself mulling over the yearsâ contents in search of a piece of your memory that can stay with him until the time comes for you to return to his hand.Â
When you were alive, Sukuna never fathomed you leaving his side. He almost feels he should punish you for so abruptly taking an absence from him without permission, castigating your spirit until he feels that the space you once occupied close to him emanates remnants of an apology, of guilt, of a promise to never do such a foolish thing ever again.Â
When you were alive, you were a sight to behold, a perfect fit for the title of his wife. You were deserving of each and every privilege he bestowed upon you; of holding his face in your small, dainty hands, of pressing your lips to the textured plate of his face, of throwing your legs over his thighs as you settle onto his lap with a large, burly arm coming around you and securing you there for all of his servants and former concubines to see how high you sit amongst him and how low they remain beneath the two of you.Â
You always said what you were thinking. While he ensured that everyone within and outside of his temple feared him, you were always unaffected by his intimidating presence. He remembers one instance in which you were lying beneath him, a mess of silk fabrics swarming your bare figure over your reserved place in his bed with your hair splayed out messily over the pillows and your eyes weighted with a foolish look of what he could only describe as enchantment and tender allegiance.
He feels the ghost of your fingers trace his jaw as he looks down at you quietly, dwarfing you in his mass. A smile touches your soft lips with a rosy hue swirling over your (s/c) skin.Â
âYour eyes are quite beautiful.â
Your voice is a whisper of past enamorations through Sukunaâs ear as his brows arch in reminiscence. He remembers how he glared at you in confusion, face hard though he always allowed you to continue admiring him, to continue touching him without consequence. His eyes, which mirror the color of fresh, crimson blood as he has watched it gurgle from the mouths and limbs of his victims, staining the streets, his hands, and his monstrous legacy, are windows you believe to be⊠beautiful.
Your sentiments never failed to befuddle him. He never did understand why you associated such a ferocious beast with beliefs so light and pure. He is not beautiful, he had thought. He never desired to be beautiful. He is simply Ryoman Sukuna, enough of himself to be categorized in unique isolation, separate from your labels of aesthetic charm and peace.Â
Youâre silly. Silly with love and submission, he thinks, but he has never denied you of these admirations though he fails to agree.Â
Besides, you are his wife. He would have allowed you to worship him in any way you pleased if you asked, and in truth, you hardly did ask. You knew what you were to Sukuna, how you and only you remained the only soft spot that the salmon haired demon withheld in his breast. You were beyond requesting approval to love him in the ways you saw fit, and Sukuna was pleased because you knew, in all spaces, that you were his and he was yours.Â
Among all the trophies of battles won, of cities conquered, of titles obtained, you are Sukunaâs greatest prize.Â
His love for you was always silent, long glances and grips of the waist, orders to slaughter on your behalf and the pat of his hand over his beefy thigh to beckon you over. His love was an unrestrained space for you to express your desires, to demand his attention, and his compliance with a veil of frustration poorly masking his easy willingness to give you anything you pleased. His love was long, sleepless nights, the marking of his territory by means of stinging bites and purple bruises over your smooth skin that no living being in his wake could mistake for anything but a reminder of your connection to him.Â
His love was you incarnate, just a woman before hellâs greatest crown, but his love no less. His wife. His queen. His eternity.
Sukuna does not know why he mourned you when you died. He found himself reacting impulsively, in a short-lived panic when your blood spilled over his skin and your eyes lost the light that heâd been following through the tunnel of his rein for years.Â
He knows death is a taboo concern only for mortals to fret over, but when you die, he feels as though he has died himself. Your life flashes before his eyes, your time with him, and this strange ache swarms his body and manifests as a ball in his throat as his ruby hues melt over you in alarm.Â
He struggles to accept your parting. Heâs viciously angry, a horrible wreck that his servants fear stepping too close into proximity as the time passes and your vacancy weighs itself over his temple and his body like a mountain. He had believed your death to be painful, but the period that follows, the period of waiting stings him like no pain he has endured before.Â
A king needs his queen, and without you, no matter for how long, he feels empty. He rampages his heartache away, but it no longer holds the satisfaction it did when you were with him, watching from the sidelines and cheering him on. His estate feels colder somehow, the dent youâve left in his bed losing its shape and the memory of you fading from othersâ minds, but not from his. Never from his.Â
Sukuna knows that he will see you again. In any era, no matter how much farther into the future, he will find you once more, bring you back to his embrace, and dust off the crown that he has reserved for your pretty head alone.Â
He holds onto a piece of you, storing it safely, awaiting the time to revive you even within his own cursed slumber after having sealed himself for a millenia, severing parts of him and scattering it over the country.
You, however, remain stowed safely in one place. A place he will remember to return to when he reawakens in rebirthed flesh.
Now, a millenia following your untimely death, Sukuna stares emptily at the woman before him, curling and tossing around with bound wrists and ankles at his feet.
Sheâs crying, screams of horror rising into the starry sky as Sukunaâs eyes glint menacingly beneath the moonlight. He watches her carefully, curling his lips. He looks at this pest, this fragile, forgettable mortal woman and sees everything that you are not. For a moment, he hesitates, his fingers clutching over the ancient parchment wrapped object he holds protectively within his grasp at his side.Â
His brows draw together in frustration induced by your vessel. He knows he picked wisely, however, he can not deny the hesitation that captures his mind when he contemplates whether this vessel will do your worth justice. Whether it will truly bring you back the way he plans for you to be.Â
He holds up the object in his hand, your energy emitting from behind the paper and through his veins, easing into his blackened soul. You are practically calling to him, holding his hand, murmuring into his ear that it will be okay.Â
Sukuna is reminded then and there solely by the spirit of you that nothing in this world could even begin to dwindle the brilliance in which you shine, that even within the body of a bird or a squirrel, your essence would burst through. You will reincarnate wholly as how you left him, and as nothing less.Â
With a heavy exhale through his nose, Sukuna unravels the object, tossing the parchment to the ground, and takes a step forward to approach the young woman squirming in the grass before him. He walks over her, feet planted on either side of her figure, and bends down. Her eyes go white with terror as snot and tears dribbles over her nose and down her cheek. Sukuna looks into her coldly, grasping a hand over her face and digging his black nails into her jaw.Â
She shudders an agonizing, shrill screech that is soon muffled by the manner in which Sukuna squeezes her cheeks inward and forcefully pries her mouth open.Â
With a steely, disconnected glare, Sukuna takes the object imbued with your cursed energy, your ring finger. He pulls your wedding band from the decrepit digit and pushes it to the womanâs lips. Her eyes go wide as she chokes over her jawâs lack of mobility, and the taste of something foreign and timeworn on her tongue. Her stuttered, whimpering gasps release and she gargles once Sukuna pushes the object down her throat. He slaps his hand back over her mouth as it slides down her throat and she twitches uncontrollably, eyes cracking with red veins.Â
The king of curses holds her still as her body flops wildly, her chest lurching forward and limbs flying about. Her body can not handle the intrusion of a thousand year old sorcererâs influence, so it fails. Her eyes roll into her skull and her fingers twitch once her limbs have stilled in the grass. A symphony of crickets chirping lifts into Sukunaâs ears as the woman beneath him goes completely silent, dead, still.
He waits. After a millennia of existence confined to cursed flesh, after years of the cold left in your wake nipped at his skin, after battling bodies for dominance over a vessel, he waits just a few seconds more for you.
After it seems as though he has lost you for a second time, the bodyâs eyes flicker. Sukuna stills above you, pupils shrunken in anticipation.
Movement shifts beneath him. A chest rises, and breathing begins steadily through it. The color of this vesselâs skin shifts, transitioning slowly, milking into the hue of gentle (s/c) that Sukuna once caressed with his rough fingers. Color flushes through pale cheeks, and irises of (e/c) roll back from the skull and stare widely ahead, directly into Sukunaâs gaze. Finally, your voice comes, a gentle hum of confusion and discomfort as you regain your lost senses.
Sukunaâs heart skips as the familiar warmth of your body emanates from beneath him again, and his hand is slowly sliding from your parted lips. He feels as though heâs just run a marathon despite his inability to wind himself. He breathes out heavily, gradually, and silence envelopes the two of you in the darkness of the late night.Â
While Sukuna had planned this from the very moment you went dead in his hands, he feels somehow starstruck by you. You look as beautiful as you were centuries in the past, skin smooth, brows curled, lips soft as though you had not been gone from his life for more than a brief second. You have returned to him as he had thoughtfully calculated, and yet, he can not fathom the fact that you are here at long last, mere centimeters away, manifested into truth by his graze of your chin.Â
The muscles in your brows pull together in disbelief, glimmering eyes shining over as you take in the sight before you. The last thing you felt was a blade slicing into your heart and ripping down through your body, the last vision of Sukuna racing to throw you into him as your opponent met his end with the selective mutilation of his internal organs at your husbandâs hard, feral, red glance.
You blink hurriedly, shooting a hand out to your husbandâs bicep. â...Ryo?â you whisper in a trembling voice, knowing him by gaze and presence and touch alone.Â
The said demonâs brows angle and his body lurches forward with a sharp exhale upon hearing your voice utter his name outside of the confines of his mindâs nostalgia and imagination. He is overcome by the return of you to him, eyes fiery with longing for his once lost love and shoulders aching as the weight that had been crushing down finally releases. The sensation of your fingers curling over his arm sends chills down his spine, for time has never altered Sukunaâs course of existence, but time tells in the way he physically shivers when your loving contact revives on his skin after having been stripped of him for what feels like eternity.
Tears pool in your eyes and your shaky hands raise to smooth over his face, exploring his marked skin and familiarizing yourself with the structure of the being you fell in love with many lifetimes ago. Sukunaâs brow flinches as you feel over his face, and his own palm cradles over your cheek, dwarfing your head in the fashion it always used to as the back of his fingers skim over your heated flesh.Â
âRyomen,â you say his name again, voice crumbling and your shoulders jerking in awe.
He trips down into you, hands clutching over your head as you guide his face down with his hasty movements. Your name tumbles hoarsely from his rumbling voice, against your lips, and slotting into your mind in a haze as his lips meet yours urgently.Â
You cry gently into him, lips parting and pushing back in as he kisses you fervently, savoring you, burrowing you into his bodyâs memory to recover the time he has spent deprived of you. Your hands fly over his neck, down his back, detailing the ridges and the muscles rippling beneath the fabric of his shirt that you know so well. He presses himself down into you, pulling you in closer by your head, flushing your chests together to intertwine your souls once more. Heady grunts and growls heave into your mouth between frenzied, stunned, satisfied kisses, and each time a tear of yours catches into the liplock, Sukuna is pulling it into his lips, saltiness swirling through the sweet release of his misery.Â
Heâs missed you. So very much, heâs missed you. He doesnât know how he has managed to go so long without you now that you are here again, now that he is holding you again, kissing you again.Â
âMy king,â you whimper when you get a chance to break away, foreheads bumping as Sukuna shushes you gently.
âDo not fret, peach,â he soothes you, lips brushing yours as his now loving gaze spills into your own. âYou are alright.â
Despite Sukunaâs ruthlessness and his wild murderous expeditions, as well as his blood-curdling tone that further accentuates the weight of his threats when thrown into the direction of others, Sukuna melts into calmness for you, his low voice mellow and meditative, enraptured in the peace that you bring him. You know all sides of your dear husband, and yet this is the rawest side of him that you know, that he treats you with.Â
âWhat happened?â you whisper as his hands run over you, catching your tears and tracing the curves of your flesh. âWhere are we?â
âIn the garden,â he answers you easily, kissing the corner of your mouth gently.Â
âAt⊠at home?âÂ
He hums in affirmation, leaning back just a bit to stare into you. The pairs of your eyes shine as they absorb the image of one another, still and sincere. Grass tickles your ears and your arms, and you look down, realizing that you are lying in a patch of greenery. You slowly tilt your head to the side, and Sukuna keeps his gaze glued to you like you will disappear before him. Your eyes capture the stems of daffodils and lavender that sprout around your head, pointing into the night sky and swaying gently in the warm breeze. You recognize the plants as the ones you had always taken to tending by the creek behind Sukunaâs temple, which he had the servants fashion as a suitable garden for you to indulge in.Â
You do not recall being here last. You recall dying. You recall your world going dark.
You turn back to meet his heavy eyes. âWhat did you do?â
He is silent for a moment, taking his time to study you before answering as though the question is the simplest one he has ever been asked. âI have brought my queen back to me. As I have always sworn to do if we were ever separated.â
â...How long have we been separated?â
âIt does not matter.â
âHow long was I away from you, Ryo? How long did I leave you for?â
âIt does not matter,â he reiterates gently yet ever so firmly. âDo not think of it.â
âPlease-â you frown, eyes shining over again. âI hadnât- I didnât mean to leave you. I donât know how I even let it happen⊠I canât imagine what that must have gone throughâŠâ
Ryomen catches the guilt in your gorgeous eyes and he is quick to gather you up in his arms. He pulls you up slowly, keeping your eyes locked as you allow him to lift you from the ground with his arms wound tightly over your waist. Your hands go to Sukunaâs shoulders as he kneels over you, keeping you steady and upright, face to face, nose to nose, eye to eye.Â
âI refuse to allow the first thing you do in reincarnated life to be reminding me of what life was like without you,,â he says. âI do not wish to revisit it. It does not matter,â he repeats for a third time.Â
You tilt your head with the tug of your lips downward sadly, threading your hands through his pink locks and holding onto the nape of his neck. The moonlight milks over you regally, as though the stars have aligned for this very moment, to illuminate you both in the universeâs joyous eye. You swallow hard. âAm I a curse?â
âYou are my wife. I will not tolerate you labeling yourself as anything different..â
You inhale deeply, bringing your forehead back to him and closing your eyes. His arms pull you in tight, rhythmic breaths easing you into this reality complacent, affectionately, lovingly.Â
âIâm sorry I left you, my love,â you murmur.
Now that heâs heard you apologize, seen your remorse sparked by something out of your control, he doesnât fare well with it.Â
You are not a plague to him, a burden, and telling him that you are sorry in his mind now insinuates such. Even after leaving him, after stealing away his warmth, after haunting his slumber and his consciousness for eons, he does not fault you. He would never fault the woman he chose to keep by his side in wellness and in death.Â
He does not accept your apology. You have done nothing but love him, yet Sukuna is the one who should have protected you.Â
He runs a hand over the back of your head, down your hair, and exudes his message of impenetrable love to you through his embrace and sweltering red eyes. âAll I ask of you is that you stay. In this era and the next. Stay by my side as you are meant to be.â
You nod eagerly against him. âI will,â you whisper. âI will, I promise.â
Sukuna reaches down at his side for the ring he had set down. With one hand to your back, he pulls your wedding band forward and presents it to your twinkling eye. You gasp.Â
âYou still have it,â you sigh.
âIn what world would I not?âÂ
You bring your hand down, spreading your fingers, and you watch as the kind of curses slips the rusted treasure over your finger, fitting it perfectly into place with the renewal of your marriage and the reunion of your hearts.
You admire the way it looks upon your hand happily, and Sukuna drags you back into his lips, pecking you tenderly before moving back in with his hands firm to you. You shift further up so that his arms can completely take you in, heads bumping as your lips swim together in commemoration of a rebirth into a new life.
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fandom#jjk fanfic#anime#jjk#jjk season 2#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#ryomen x reader#sukuna angst#sukuna fluff#sukuna x reader fluff
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accidents pt. II | Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops pt.II The Reckoning /j, this is basically just 10k words of porn with feelings yikes
Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst (still Spencer feeling he isn't good enough đ), EMOTIONSSS, Spencer STILL loves you so much, he gets a hug, and so much more!, talk about sex, detailed asking for CONSENT (be safe people), sex (piv), some frottage, uhhh what else, dirty talk, some dom/sub understones (sub!Spencer ofc), little bit allusion to subspace, Spencer discovers so many kinks in this awww we're so proud of you bby (mentioned kinks: praise kink, squint of liking being embarrassed, tiiny bit of a voyeristic thing), also I made him a virgin whoops so virgin!Spencer, proofread but prolly not perfect lol. Tell me if I'm missing any tags I am so tired
(also, Spencer will be bisexual in all of my Spencer fics because I am not a coward like the writers were and I will honour Spencer the way he was intended to)
HERE you can read pt. I, I do recommend it to have context and all but do whatever you want lmao I'm not your mother anyway have fun being completely wrecked like I was while writing this!! also thanks so so MUCH for 400 followers and almost 2k likes on the first part, you guys are the best and I hope you enjoy this fic as a thanks!!<333
â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â
Spencerâs never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.
His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-
Itâs you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he canât just-
âSpencer?â
He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-
âUh, yeah, just a second!â, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-
He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and â
âOkay, Iâll justâŠchill with that weird plant here.â
An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.
After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that itâs not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.
And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.
For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.
âHi.â
You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesnât know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.
Youâre not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelopeâs.
âHi to yourselfâ, you chuckle, âCan I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?â
Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.
âOnly seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.â
He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you donât hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.
Spencerâs breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his bodyâs response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is⊠a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious heâs trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isnât enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.
The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what youâre thinking.
âSpencerâ, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didnât make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. âDo you hate me?â
âWha-â, he sputters your name, âNo- no! Of course, I donât- whe- why would you think that?â
You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. âBecause youâve been acting hella weird these last few days and you wonât tell me whyyyyâ, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else heâs just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.
âI havenât been acting weird, really, I donât know what youâre talking about.â
You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-
âIs it because you saw my nudes?â
Spencer almost breaks his neck with how fast he whips his head down to look at you again. A strangled noise escapes him without permission and what. What.
âBecause, that would actually explain so much, especially the way youâve been acting and really, thatâs probably on me because Iâve always been telling myself to put them behind a password block but I somehow always manage to forget that because apparently I have only one braincell left thatâs stuck spinning on the deep-fried version of Funky Town and well, I guess Iâm glad it was you that found them and not someone else and-â
âWhat? No, no, I didnât- What- thatâs not- what-â, Spencer cuts off your rambling with a horrified, screeched version of a protest because how- how could you have guessed whatâs going on with just one try? Is Spencer so- so absolutely besotted with you that heâs so obvious? Spencer is so very confused and overwhelmed with whatever the hell is going on, he kind of misses the slight twitching of your mouth.
âCome on, Spencer. I said itâs fine and basically my own fault. Uh- well, actually⊠sorry. Because, well, thatâs probably not very work-appropriate⊠I will pay for your therapy session, just send me the bill.â
Spencer thought heâd reached the limits of confusion seconds ago but apparently, he hadnât. What. What are you even saying?
âTherapy sessions?â
You just- ignore him.
âOh, also, please donât tell Hotch? Heâll be pissed, despite me literally just doing hot-girl shit, yâknow-â
Oh, Spencer cannot take it anymore.
He says your name and, âStop, please, please, just-â
You snap your mouth shut, pulling your lips between your teeth and Spencer definitely doesnât miss the way you have to force your mouth to stay still this time.
âAre you- is this a joke?â, Spencer asks, frazzled and desperate and so confused he just wants to bury his head under the duvet and never come out again. Because if you donât actually know but- are just joking around, oh Spencer is overwhelmed, alright.
Your expression changes into something panicked then. âNo, no, Spencer, sorry. Iâm- sorry. Of course Iâm not joking, Iâm so sorry. Itâs just a little bit too easy to tease you. Sorry.â You actually look apologetic now, lips downturned and frowning slightly.
âNot joking- so⊠so, you know?â, thereâs something big and anxious pressing inside of Spencerâs chest. The urge to hide away and never face daylight again intensifies tenfold. Heâs flushing before he realizes, hands trembling and breathing a bit too fast to be considered normal. Oh god, you know, you actually know, youâre going to- youâre never going to speak with him again you are probably here to tell him how weird and- and-
You mustâve noticed the frenzy he is thinking himself into, because you reach out with one hand and gently nudge his thigh with one knuckle. âSpencerâ, you say, voice serious and steady and not the slightest bit disgusted or harsh and it snaps him out of his anxiety spiral.
âI knew the second I walked back into that room after you basically fled the precinct. I am, really, genuinely, sorry for making you uncomfortable. Like, it wasnât actually my intention for you to see them. And then, after I realized what⊠I just wanted to wait and see what youâd do, if you came to talk to me or, wellâŠâ
You sigh, the hand that nudged him ruffling through your hair.
âI didnât handle this situation very well. Iâm really sorry. So⊠â, you trail off, scrunching your nose in that adorable way of yours that makes Spencer want to kiss it until it scrunches even further because youâd laugh and try to fight him off.
âWe can just- forget about this. Forget that it ever happened, or-â, you hesitate again.
Spencer feels suddenly breathless. Like he stands in front of a cliff face, seconds before taking the step to send himself careening towards something immeasurably great or devastatingly fatal.
âOrâŠ?â, he breathes, voice small and unsure.
You meet his eyes again after what feels like hours. Thereâs something intense in them, burning, and itâs like an electric shock to Spencerâs system. Heâd give anything for you to keep looking at him like that forever.
âOrâ, your hand returns to his thigh, but this time you let your fingers travel along the shape of it and Spencer whimpers. The burning in your eyes intensifies and Spencer feels hot, suddenly, so hot heâs burning with it. âOr we can do something else.â
âSomething else?â, Spencer basically croaks because his throat is so dry and itâs difficult for his body to function properly when you are touching him like that.
You hum in agreement. âWhatever you want. You can tell m-â
âYou.â
You look a bit startled when he cuts you off with that one, desperate syllable. Startled but also endlessly amused and Spencer just- his mind is apparently turned off, what the-
You laugh quietly, and your eyes soften, and it does something to Spencer that leaves an ach-y feeling in his chest. Oh, he loves you so much he canât take it.
âSure. You can have meâ, you say simply, as if itâs the easiest thing in the world for you to admit, âTell me what exactly you want, because Iâd give you the world if you asked.â
And suddenly thereâs hot pressure behind Spencerâs eyes, at the back of his throat. Youâre just- just- amazing and so lovely and so kind to him, no one has ever said something like that to him, he doesnât know how to handle it.
Spencer blinks up to the ceiling, desperately willing these stupid unwelcome tears away because crying about you treating him kindly is so on the bottom of the list of acting casual about this, so he rather feels than sees you sitting up next to him. Your hand slips from his legs and he feels the loss of your touch as if someone sucked the marrow from his bones. Before he can say something embarrassing like âplease touch me againâ he feels your hand covering his. It fills him with a heady kind of courage.
âI wantâŠâ, Spencer starts, feeling entirely too uncomfortable with having to state his deepest and darkest desires. Thereâs the old familiar urge to start picking at his nails nagging at him, but you just interlace your fingers with his and start tracing random patterns into the skin there with your thumb. Spencer melts against you and tenses up at the same time because itâs just so- so nice. It feels so nice and Spencer never thought heâd ever get to have things like that with you but youâre here. Youâre here, with him, and basically offering Spencer the entire world on a silver platter but itâs still so so unfathomably difficult just saying what he so badly wants.
âYou wantâŠ?â, you hum slightly, voice soft and so tender as you continue painting patterns on his skin and Spencer would literally die for you. And thatâs the entire problem. Spencer doesnât know if youâd do the same. Well. Maybe not die die for him but. He canât just sleep with you, and it not meaning anything to you. It would kill him. It would kill him, if after you give him tenderness and pleasure and acceptance in a way heâs never dreamed of receiving, you would go back to normal. Always politely distanced, close, but never close enough and it already twists his chest just thinking of that possibility.
âI just-â, he tries again, but when the words are stuck in his throat, sticky molten sugar that tastes like bile and fear, he pulls out of your grip and buries his face in his hands. Heâs so bad at this. Heâs the worst. No wonder heâs never had- had something like Morgan has, one night stand after one night stand (not that he particularly wants that, god no, but just-) because Spencer is just so bad at spilling all of the things that plague his gut and keep his thoughts in overdrive at night. No wonder heâs never even had a girlfriend or boyfriend before.
âHey, hey, Spencerâ, he feels your hands cupping his own, still over his face. Not taking them away, but just â there. âItâs alright, penguin, we can always come back to this another time. Iâll wait.â
Spencerâs face crumples and his breath hitches a little because- penguin. Thatâs the frankly ridiculous nickname youâve been using for him ever since he apparently once looked like one, with that white scarf and knee-length black coat he wore during one of your cases where a blizzard surprised not only the team, but also the unsub. Spencer, like most of you, wasnât prepared and thus, had to make do with what the helpful officers provided them with. And well, Spencer drew the penguin stick it seemed.
Itâs ridiculous but sweet and it always makes him feel so loved, loved by you, because itâs adorable and theirs and he just loves it irrationally much, okay? And also, penguins are just really fascinating because-
âDid you know that most penguins live monogamously? The Emperor penguin is actually one of the only ones that mate seasonally, they only have one mate per breeding season. But most others have a mate for life, like, like swans and bald eagles.â
Before Spencer even opened his mouth, he was aware of the fact he was going to ramble on about some unimportant stuff. Itâs always like this, it always feels like a breath heâs been holding in for too long, like an itch somewhere in his weird brain that only stops when he opens his mouth and infodumps and he cannot stop it. No matter how consciously he is telling himself to cut it out or screaming at himself to shut the fuck up you weirdo, itâs unavoidable. As soon as his brain latches onto a statistic or a fact it is reminded of, itâs an unstoppable force.
Like now. He is kicking himself. Why, oh why canât he ever be normal? He feels himself flushing bright red from embarrassment and shame and frustration. He canât believe he is rambling about birds while- while whatever the hell you two are doing right now. While in the middle of a conversation that started out with you confronting him about him seeing your nudes, jesus christ.
Spencer is about to suffocate himself with a pillow when you let out a graceless snort.
It confuses Spencer so much he lowers his hands to look at you and- oh.
Your eyes are shining with something that looks so close to what he would call affection, and it makes him want to bawl his eyes out and at the same time, smile so hard thereâll be laugh lines on his cheeks for the rest of the week.
âWell, that fits perfectly thenâ, you say, and Spencer doesnât understand.
âWhat do you mean?â
You smile just a little wider, a little more teasingly but in a nice way, in a kind way and it leaves Spencerâs chest blooming with warmth.
âIf youâre my penguin, Iâll be your penguin.â
Youryouryouryouryour-
Spencer feels entirely braindead. Only the fact that you called him yours registers. Because yes. Yes. Spencer is so yours heâd gladly let you make every decision for him from now on in his life and yes. Thatâs not exactly a very normal thing to think. Or to want. Spencer doesnât care. Heâs never felt normal about you for a day in his life and he definitely wonât start now.
âYou- you mean- like, as, as mates?â
You scrunch your nose in disgust. âIf you want to call us that, I think Iâll take back my offer.â
It punches a giggle out of Spencer, sudden and kind of light-headed. He watches your face break into a wide grin.
âBut you- youâd like that?â Youâd like me?
You pull a face, sniffing in a nonchalant way, direct your face to your nails in fake disinterest.
âSure. Whatever.â
And Spencer canât help himself. He sobs out a laugh- laughs out a sob or, whatever that weird noise he makes is, because youâre so ridiculous and he loves you more than anything in the world.
You roll your eyes, fondly, shake your head slightly.
âOf course, Spencer. Iâd like that very much because I like you a very unnormal amount. Literally. On my knees, crying, screaming etceteraâ, you say just like that, smiling just like that.
Spencer feels like heâs dreaming. He must be. Thereâs no other explanation for it. He just canât wrap his head around the fact that you could like him. You. Youâre so, so lovely and amazing and you deserve everything good in this world and Spencer is just. Spencer.
âYou- you like me? Me?â, Spencer canât hide the incredulous tone that seeps into his questions because you like him?
Thereâs no traces of humour in your eyes anymore. Your eyes look painfully honest, face suddenly serious, and it steals Spencerâs breath away.
You lean closer to him again, grabbing his hands with yours. Your gaze bores itself into his, intense and steady and he canât look away. âSpencer. I know itâs- I know life has been hard on you for way too long. And that leaves its marks on you. Thatâs fine. Itâs human. But. You do not deserve any less love because of that, do you understand me? Of course I like you, what isnât there to like? Youâre kind and funny and sweet and just so- Spencer. Youâre so lovable and it kills me to know that you donât see how you are so worthy of being loved.â
Oh.
Oh.
You canât just- canât just say things like that and expect him to not cry a little. Canât expect him to act completely nonchalant and cool about all of this when you say things like that to him. Are you trying to kill him? Because it sure does feel like that.
Spencer is so completely at a loss. He doesnât know what to say to that- not to mention what to do. How do you always do this? How can you see straight to the hidden, bruised core of him, littered with all these ugly and bad things and. Just. Figure out what to say to strike him exactly there.
It should scare him, being known so deeply. It should, but it doesnât because itâs you. You are warmth and acceptance like his favourite place in front of a fireplace, book in hand and rain gently knocking against windows. You are quiet mornings at work, you are soft rays of sunlight in his hair, you are gentle hands helping you up when you fall and bruise your knees. You are â
A touch to his cheek startles him. He opens his eyes â when did he close them? â to your fingers brushing some stray tears away, so softly as if heâs something precious, something to be held delicately. That thought sends new tears spilling down his cheek. He canât believe this is affecting him so much, so completely he simultaneously feels like he is going to shatter and be stitched back together again.
He never knew he needed this so much.
âSorry for making you cry, penguin. I didnât think this discussion about my lack of nude etiquette would get this emotionally damagingâ, you say, voice hushed in the big silence of the room, a small smile on your lips and eyes so kind.
Spencer snorts, despite himself. This has really been a very bizarre evening. He feels almost drunk on the weirdness of it all, on the rollercoaster that his emotions have ridden all evening. Thatâs probably why he does what he does next. Â
âNeither did I, especially after you interrupted me while I wa-â
Spencer shuts his mouth so fast he clicks his teeth together, eyes wide and suddenly horrified. He- what-
Why?
Why canât Spencer ever keep his big mouth shut? Is he completely and utterly insane?
Thereâre alarm bells going off somewhere in Spencerâs head and a concerning warmth settling deep in his stomach when your grin takes on a slightly devilish edge, one he knows all too well and. And. Oh. Heâs in trouble. So much trouble. Why did he have to say that?
âAfter I interrupted you while?â, you prompt him, eyes electric and hot and oh god-
Spencer is so dumb. An idiot. Of the highest order. High IQ, where?
âNothingâ, he says, voice high-pitched and rushed and he curses himself and his ability to act everything else but nonchalant. Heâd be the worst actor of all time.
âSpencer.â
The tone of your voice rearranges something in his neurons. He can feel himself sit up just that little bit straighter, can feel his mind buzz at the edges. Heâs never felt like this before.
He loves it.
âHmm?â, is all he gets out. Trouble, so much trouble.
Suddenly youâre standing up, away from him and Spencer wants to whine because you should stay there next to him, forever fixed to his side. He doesnât have to despair long, because you take one of your knees and gently nudge his legs apart with it and okay. Okay. That definitely didnât just send Spencerâs mind reeling. That wasnât just totally the hottest thing that ever happened to him.
You slot yourself between his legs as if you own that space and. In his humble opinion, you do. You so do. Spencer is willing to give you a map of his entire body and a marker and tell you to please demarcate every part of him you want. Heâd give it to you, no questions asked.
He is looking up at you, at your burning eyes that still hold something so soft in them that makes the lump in his throat bigger again. And by god, Spencer just needs to hear you say it again-
âYou like me?â
You move closer to him, lifting one hand and placing it underneath his chin. Your thumb traces along his jaw and Spencer feels like he is going to burst into a million embarrassed pieces.
âYesâ, you say simply, but the way you say it. Spencer canât help but shiver and exhale shakily. He feels so warm, everywhere. His skin burns where your fingers are touching him. He never wants this to stop.
âYou- You want me?â
Your hand grips his face a little stronger, your other fingers splaying over and down his throat and thereâs a high noise coming from somewhere and thereâs goosebumps on his body everywhere and oh, wait- itâs him. The noise. Well, how embarrassing but. He doesnât care. Nope. Not at all.
âŠOkay maybe a little. His face feels warm, suddenly, warmer than the rest of him and yes. Heâs blushing, okay?
âSpencerâ, the way you say his name it- god, âI want you. I said it before, but. I will give you anything. Tell me what you want, Spencer, and you will get it from me.â
Your eyes are so dark and your voice so low and Spencer actually whines and. Heâs hard again, so hard, because he didnât come before and now, heâs even more pent-up and his thoughts are a mess, but you havenât even touched him more than this and heâs already so worked up from you just saying these things to him-
âI want youâ, Spencer pants, currently finding no other English words in the dictionary of his mind. And well. Emily was right about him. IQ slashed to zero when pretty person do thing.
He watches you take a deep breath, as if to steady yourself, as if this whole thing is affecting you as much as it affects him but thatâs- ridiculous. Impossible. Because. Have you seen yourself?
âI know that, Spencer. But what do you want from me? Do you want me to kiss you?â, you ask, face suddenly so close to his Spencer feels your breath fan over his skin, and he whimpers because yes he wants that wants that- âDo you want me to touch you more?â, your other hand grabs his side, gentle but just a little bit roughly and Spencer is suddenly vividly reminded of the fact how strong you are and he feels kind of lightheaded-
âDo you want me to fuck you, Spencer?â
Spencer is going to pass out. And die. And moan and say, âPlease yes yes yesâ. Maybe not in that particular order.
âOkay, angel, anything you wantâ, you say, smiling softly at him as if heâs the best thing in the world and angel. Angel. Angel.
Before heâs even started to process you calling him angel, he sees a glint in your eyes, that edge in your smile again and before he knows whatâs happening, youâre kissing him.
Youâre kissing him and itâs- everything.
Your mouth is soft against his, and Spencerâs insides twist and flutter and his brain is kind of lagging behind, but he wants to be closerclosercloser-
Itâs so good Spencer completely blanks on everything. Thereâs nothing in his mind except the feel of your lips moving against his. Thereâs no insecurity, no embarrassment tainting this moment even though this is literally like, only the sixth kiss or so of Spencerâs life and he has no idea what he is doing. But itâs so good.
A noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper escapes him when you lick into his mouth and Spencerâs soul almost leaves his body. He feels you shudder where you are pressed together, chest to chest.
âSpencer, Spencerâ, you breathe against his lips, in between wet, hot, kisses. You rub your nose against his, eyes closed.
âHmm?â, he hums, his voice somewhere in Canada or wherever. His mouth is too busy smiling so wide it hurts, anyways. No time for articulating anything.
âYouâre amazing, Spencer, amazing.â
And he wants to shake his head, no, because the only one amazing here is you. But itâs impossible to disagree with you when your mouth has returned to his in a way that is probably ruining him for anyone else. (Heâs okay with that.)
You peck him on the lips once, twice more, before you press your lips against his jaw, exactly where you had your fingers before. Your hands are basically the only thing holding Spencer up in a sitting position, because he feels like molten chocolate in your hands. Muscles apparently forgetting to do their job and well. Who can blame them? Spencer has stopped thinking in proper sentences the moment you had walked into his life, so. Only a matter of time until you broke the rest of him as well.
You kiss his neck and Spencer gasps. Itâs really been a hot minute - three years, one hundred, twenty-one days and twenty hours to be exact â the last time he made out with someone. Everything feels heightened on his heated skin, especially you opening your mouth against him and licking him oh god-
It almost feels like a reward when you gently bite at his skin next. Spencer almost screams.
âSo good, so so good for meâ, he hears you whisper into the skin of his neck and this time, Spencer does make a noise. Because yes. He wants that. Be good for you. Thatâs the only thing in his fuzzy mind that feels clear, that feels graspable.
He can see your pupils dilate. Can see the wicked lilt to your lips. âYou like being good for me, donât you, angel?â
ANGEL. Spencer is nodding his head before he knows he does so. âYes, yes.â
âFuckâ, he hears you breathe against him and itâs strange, seeing the effect he has on you. Did really he do that? âI canât believe how incredible you are, sweetheart.â
And you need to stop. If you keep calling Spencer these things- heâs pretty sure he wonât survive this. The team would need to find another genius to solve cases with. His cactus Greg would dry out and wilt and die. You and Penelope would need to find another victim to send confusing memes to.
âDid you like my pictures, Spencer?â, you then ask and thatâs so not fair. You canât just ask him that while heâs so utterly in your hands that heâs sure heâd tell you about every little fantasy heâs had about you ever if you asked.
Because Spencer wants to be good, feels that need so deeply in his bones, he nods frantically. âYes, I- I liked them.â
At the same time the words leave his mouth, something feels wrong. Thereâs an ugly thing twisting in his stomach, so unpleasant it momentarily occludes the high-octane bliss-fuzz fogging up his mind.
You notice the shift in mood almost immediately. âWhatâs wrong, angel?â
And well. Itâs just- that guilt. Of not saying anything to you about Spencer seeing your nudes, of just ogling you like that without your permission. That wasnât very good of him. Actually, the opposite. Heâs been bad and he hates that. Hates that so severely that thereâs suddenly tears on his cheeks and oh no. Thatâs mortifying. Who cries before sex? Jesus Christ heâs such a virgin it is genuinely embarrassing.
âIâm- Iâm sorryâ, he stutters, a little bit hysterical, creating distance between you, arms slung around himself, âI shouldâve, shouldâve said something, Iâm so so sorry, Iâm the worst friend and now Iâm- Iâm crying, oh god, Iâm so sorry-â
âHey, hey hey whoa. Spencer, darling. Penguin. Look at me, please?â
But he shakes his head. He doesnât deserve to look at you again. What was he even thinking? He was- so creepy and now- now-
Two warm hands grab his face and then Spencer is looking into your eyes again. He squeezes his own shut, but all that it does is send more tears spilling over his cheeks and heâs so fucking stupid-
âBaby, please.â
Spencer sobs.
Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. Thatâs the best thing he has ever heard but he doesnât deserve these things.
âOf course you deserve it, silly gooseâ, you say and oh. Heâs said that out loud.
Your thumbs brush over his cheeks and Spencer canât not lean into your touch, despite everything. Because thatâs just the way it always is. Heâs drawn to your warmth and tenderness like a moon revolves around its planet.
âI thought weâd established that it was an accident? And if it was someoneâs fault, then mine, because no password, remember?â
Spencer opens his eyes. The deep affection swimming in yours makes him sob again. Heâs a mess. A crying, horny mess and Spencer definitely fucked this up. Why does Spencer always ruin the few good things in his life?
âSpencer, Spencer. Hey. Itâs okay, I promise you. We wouldnât be doing this, if it wasnât, okay?â, you kiss his nose. âDo you want to lay down, maybe?â
He nods, not really thinking clearly. He moves up the bed, under the covers and curls up on his side. He waits for you to get up from the bed, for you to walk over to the door and leave. To say that this was a mistake, he was a mistake. To say that you take back everything you said to him in the last half hour.
Heâs not just a little surprised to feel your weight dip the mattress, to feel even more sudden warmth engulf him when you spoon him from behind. You start tracing swirly patterns over the skin of his arm and he feels goosebumps spread all over his body.
Some minutes tick by, you still holding him, when his tears have finally dried up. He doesnât remember crying so much in one day. Spencer feels miserable.
âDo you still like me?â, he asks, and yes, itâs pathetic and stupid but. He doesnât care if you never have sex or if youâre not going to be more than his friend now. Because the thought of you not being in his life in any capacity anymore- just no.
He can feel you freeze and take in a sharp breath. âWha- Spencer. Of course, I still like you. I donât care what we do, I just want to be with you. In any way youâll have me.â
You sound so understanding and sincere and actually confused about his fear as if youâd never even think of not liking him anymore and and and-
And something in him just- snaps. He wants you, needs you so much heâs going to die if he doesnât-
He shuffles and turns in your arms until heâs face to face with you. You look at him, eyebrow raised in question but so beautiful and lovely and you still like him-
âI want you so badâ, he says and then he presses his lips against yours again.
You respond immediately, low moan escaping you and Spencer is greedy, he wants to hear more, feel more, feel everything with you.
Heâs kissing you as if heâs going to die if he ever stopped, which, yes, he absolutely would, and you kiss him back as if you canât live without him. It makes everything become hazy again, like before, and every bad feeling suddenly feels eons away. Like heâs underwater, floaty and relaxed. Safe, he feels safe in the way you kiss him and hold him. Like you always do.
You move your kisses to his neck, sucking and biting and Spencer is moaning and moaning and canât stop and then suddenly, youâre gone, what â
âSpencer, Spencer, waitâ, you pant, out of breath and flushed and he wants to cry again, âSorry, sorry I just-â
You frame his face in your hands, a little bit roughly. âIâm so sorry for making this so hard, youâre being so good for me, but Spencer. Have you done this before?â
Somewhere in the fog that is his minds, Spencer finds his voice. Itâs high and airy but he doesnât care. âNo, no, I havenât.â
He watches you take a deep breath, feels your fingers digging into his skin a little bit more.
âTell me. Do you want this, Spencer?â, your voice is shaking as if you need to keep yourself in check and Spencer canât believe heâs getting to see you like this.
âYesâ, he says because he canât ever want anything else, and, âPlease make me feel good.â
You inhale sharply, your grip on his face bordering on painful. âSpencer, youâre incredible, amazing, the best- Iâll make you feel good, okay? Iâll make you feel so good because you deserve it.â
âYesâ, Spencer is not ashamed of how whiny he sounds. No. Heâs owning it now. This is his thing now, okay? Heâll gladly be your pathetic wet cat, or whatever the term was that you sometimes use to describe him with. Whatever it even means.
âGoodâ, you grin, and then you push on his shoulder hard and heâs on his back. And you. Sitting on top of him, thighs on either side of him. Straddling him exactly where he wants you most and he exhales a needy âahâ. His hypothesis of liking being manhandled is⊠yet to be disproven. Heâs discovering so many things about himself today.
Pleasure radiates in waves from where youâre passively giving pressure to his hard cock and yeah okay. This is good. Amazing. Heâs never felt better. But-
âPlease.â
âPlease what, angel?â
âMore?â
âMore what?â
Your fingers trailing along his throat and jaw, down his chest and teasing ghost-like over his nipples are not really helpful in finding the right words to what he wants. You take pity on him.
âMore touch?â
Spencer nods his head, so fast he almost gets dizzy because heâs at that point again where everything feels liquid, hazy, a little bit unreal. So, speaking is already quite the task.
You smile at him as if he just solved the most difficult equation. âDoing so good, Spencer. Incredible.â
He moans. Okay. Another hypothesis to add to his ever-growing list of scientific discoveries today.
âWhere do you want touch, Spencer? Here?â, thereâs hands in his hair. He shakes his head.
âHmm⊠Here?â, fingers drawing circles on his chest and yes, that feels nice, so nice but he wants-
âHere?â, you ground your hips down and jesus-
âYes!â, Spencer almost chokes on the sound. Pleasure shoots up his spine and he whimpers. âPlease.â
You exhale shakily, looking flush. âOkay. Because you ask so nicely.â Thereâre two little taps on his lower stomach through his shirt. âDo you want to take this off first? Or no?â
The way you give him the chance to say no- the way you respect his autonomy so deeply-
Itâs basic human decency, yes, but itâs also the hottest thing and Spencer feels so valued and understood and safe that heâs not even hesitating when he mutters a quiet yes.
You help him sit up because heâs currently not really heir over his body like he usually is. Help his head out of the shirt and thread his arms out. And then, heâs half naked in front of you and suddenly, the doubt and insecurity thatâve been so quiet so far are back with a vengeance.
The urge to cover himself is so big itâs impossible to stop his arms from wrapping around himself.
Spencer knows heâs not ugly. Heâs not that bad looking actually. Canât be too bad if Morgan keeps insisting on calling him pretty boy, even though Spencer sometimes still has the sneaking suspicion that heâs teasing him. But his friend wouldnât be so cruel.
But other people like to be. Pipe-cleaner, leek, straw, big-eyes. Heâs heard it all before. He has matured enough and grown into himself so that these things donât bother him like they used to. But still. Still. These things are arduous to scrub from under his skin.
Your gaze on him though- heâs never felt so, cleaned from all of these mean words before. You look- you look reverent while mapping his skin and maybe thatâs the reason why he lowers his arms again.
âSpencer. Youâre a dreamâ, you say, almost in trance. Almost as if youâre hypnotized by him, and heâs flushing. But. Being watched so intently, being admired like that. He feels his dick give an indigent twitch against your clothed core. Another thing for the list.
âSo impatientâ, you tut and Spencer flushes more. He thinks heâs waited long enough for this. But he doesnât say that. If you stopped now- he would definitely combust spontaneously.
You lean down, over him. Hands trailing along his sides like you did earlier, but without any clothes between your skin and his. Itâs almost too much. And not enough. He feels electrified, where you touch him. His heart is hammering against his ribs so hard you must be able to feel it. His stomach is in knots, fluttery. Heâs never felt more alive.
You connect your lips to his throat, placing kiss after kiss along the arched length of it. Follow the same path with your tongue and Spencer whines, curves up against you a little. Everything feels so good Spencer is floating in it.
You shift your attention to his collarbones next, kissing but then gently biting and Spencer feels the indents of your teeth all the way through to his back and he hopes, wants, you to sink them into him so deep theyâll leave marks. So that he carries the evidence of this with him for the rest of this case, so that thereâs absolutely no more doubt to who he belongs to. That thought alone makes him whimper, makes him feel that tiny little bit more lost in you.
You start kissing along his chest, down his stomach. Open mouthed, wet kisses and Spencer shivers when the places you put them feel cold after because of your spit. The lower you get, the noisier he becomes and at one point, Spencer wouldâve been embarrassed. Well, he kind of is, but heâs also so turned on that the embarrassment doesnât feel as stifling like usual. Rather, in a weird way, it makes everything hotter, and he does not own enough brain capacity right now to decipher that. But he does add it to the list.
When your face is dangerously close to the waistband of his pyjama, Spencer tenses, holds his breath. Being shirtless is one thing, but⊠well.
âItâs okay, Spencer. We only do as much as you feel comfortable withâ, you murmur, giving a small peck to the left of his belly button. You calmingly follow his sides with your hands, smiling at him with so much affection in your eyes that Spencer feels speechless, breathless, until the tension releases his muscles again and he melts into the sheets.
ââm justâŠâ, he tries, he really tries so hard to tell you that he wants this more than anything heâs ever wanted but that he just feels⊠insecure.
You kiss his stomach again. âHow about we only take off the pyjama? For now? If you want to take off your underwear too later, we can still do that.â
That⊠thatâs actually a good idea. So, he nods.
âWords, angel.â
âYes, yes. Thatâs- good.â
You look so proud of him. âYouâre so good, Spencer. Perfect.â
He moans embarrassingly loud. He really should be more concerned about this. About how you are basically pulling him apart, thread by thread and he just lets you, willingly. How you know which threads to pull to reduce him to a sweaty mess in what felt like 0.2 seconds.
Thereâs a finger dipping beneath the waistband, moving back and forth along the newly exposed skin. Your eyes watch him intently, almost predator-like. A question is in there somewhere as well and Spencer nods again.
You help him lift his hips, help him pull down the pants. Spencer is kind of busy kicking his legs a little to shake them off completely but when he looks back and down himself to where you are hyper-focused on the outline of his cock through the thin fabric he blushes.
Even more when he notices the big, dark blue splotch in front of his underwear. Thatâs definitely never happened before. How embarrassing.
When you look up at him again, youâre also flushed. Eyes dark, wide, voice kind of unsteady. âSpencer, Spencer, can I?â
âPleaseâ, and then you palm him with your hand, and it feels so good it takes all of his concentration to not come on the spot. He doesnât know if heâll survive this until you arrive to the main thing.
Itâs not the first time someone has touched him like that, but it is the first time you are doing it, and it already feels better than anything heâs ever felt before. Youâre either a wizard or Spencer is just biased because he thinks everything you do is ten times better than the same thing done by someone else.
Probably the first reason.
He has his head angled back, one of his arms thrown over his eyes. If he looked at you now, heâs pretty sure, heâd come. Visual stimulation on top of physical would probably be the end of him. Itâs already too much, just feeling your hand move up and down his dick in various pressures. Almost as if you are testing what he likes best, and Spencer is definitely here for it. Definitely. Heâs happy to just let you experiment with him until you know all the different ways to drive him mad with pleasure with just a few moves.
Which, you apparently already figured out, judging by the way Spencer canât form a single coherent thought anymore. Itâs already, so good, so freaking good holy shit, and youâre still not touching him. Still a layer of fabric between your hand and him and he kind of- just-
âTake it off?â
You still your hand, looking up at him. You look kind of crazed, almost a little pained. It takes two deep breaths for you to process what he just asked, eyes a little unfocused before they fix Spencer to the bed with an intensity that makes him feel unfocused. âYou sure, angel?â
Spencer literally canât do anything but nod. You stay in your position for some moments longer, before you sigh out a long breath, mumbling something that suspiciously resembles youâre gonna be the death of me. Spencer misses your warmth on top of him the second you hoist yourself up. Itâs kind of crazy and destitute of him. You are literally right there but heâs waited for this for so long it feels like heâs suffocating without your weight pressing him down. Which is ironic and also, insane.
Your fingers are gentle, when they move under the stretchy fabric of his underwear. Even gentler when they pull down and down and down until Spencer is entirely naked in front of you.
Oh, he feels so exposed. While he has been the recipient of a mediocre hand job before, itâs been in his trousers. This is kind of the first time someone sees him naked like that, because school locker rooms and his mother donât count.
He doesnât dare look at you. If thereâs anything akin to disappointment, not to mention disgust on your face- Spencer probably would have to jump out the window, stat. His gaze is frozen on his cock, steadily leaking precum on his stomach (which, embarrassing). Heâs abashedly trying to insert himself into your point of view, tries to imagine what you think about seeing him like this. What you might think about his dick, if itâs too short or too thin or if it looks weird, if he shouldâve shaved. If his legs look strange and too gangly now, or if his stomach connects to his pubic area wrong or-
âHoly shitâ, you say, and Spencer is too curious for his own damn good sometimes, because he canât force his gaze to stay away from you.
You look at him- like before. Reverent but more, so much more. He almost feels like a deity, the way you look at him. Someone to be awed by, someone that should be worshipped. Spencer feels his already in overdrive heartbeat quicken even more, blood flushing his cheeks so much it leaks down his throat, to his chest.
Spencer would literally kill to have you look at him like this for the rest of his life.
âHoly shit, Spencerâ, you repeat, eyes now meeting his, âYouâre like- a literal fucking dream. I cannot believe- youâre so beautiful, how are you so beautiful everywhere?â
Spencer whimpers and he needs you to touch him kiss him fuck him anything please now or he will absolutely die from heart palpitations.
Some of his despairing thoughts mustâve come through to you, because the next thing you do is moan, which is the best thing heâs ever heard. Then, you take off your sweater. Second to go is your cropped tank top and you arenât wearing a bra and good heavens.
Pictures could never compare. Not even Botticelli couldâve adequately committed you to canvas.
Spencer mustâve taken some brain damage from seeing you half naked. He doesnât remember you taking off the remainder of your clothes, nor does he remember you straddling him again. But, fuck.
Spencer kind of doesnât use the f-word that often but-
fuckfuckfuckufuckfkcufuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckcufkc-
Youâre warm against him, and wet, so freaking wet, and it feels so mind-blowingly good- itâs a miracle heâs still holding on. But-
âWonât last longâ, he gets out, breathy and whiny and just so goddamn fuzzy from pleasure. The world could literally perish right now, and he wouldnât care. He canât care, because this is the best thing that ever happened to him and he wonât ever care about anything else ever again other than feeling you, you you you you, against him.
âSpencer, Spencerâ, you breathe, gasp, and fuck, the way you keep using his name. âAre you okay? Do you still want this?â
Itâs ridiculous you even ask. But the warmth in his chest, the feeling of comfort and safety and ease â because everything with you is so easy, so natural - he feels with the way you look after him-
He feels your thumbs caressing his wet cheeks. You put small, sweet kisses all over his face. Take the time to brush away some of his sweat-sticky hair from his forehead. Place kisses there too. You end with a drawn out, gentle kiss to his lips.
âWhat do you say, sweetheart?â
Thereâs really only one way for him to answer that. He trusts you. Plain and simple. Thereâs no one else he could ever do this with.
âYes, I want. Please.â
You kiss him again. âSo good Spencer, youâre so fucking good to me. I canât believe you are trusting me with this. You are incredible, angel.â
Spencer doesnât know how itâs anatomically possible, but he blushes even harder. Also, feels his cock twitch against you because he apparently likes to be called good almost as much as he likes being good. For you. Only you. Jesus Christ.
âDo you have a condom?â, you ask and ah. Well.
âSuitcaseâ, and wow. First word with more than one syllable since you straddled him the first time. Heâs being so brave right now. He deserves a medal. Proof of Being Able to Speak Polysyllabic Words While Getting Fucked (Almost).
Thereâs humour glistening in your eyes, when you hide a fake gasp behind your hand and say, âOh my god, Spencer you dog. Canât believe you planned this entire thing.â
Spencer almost chokes on his own spit. âN-no! I just- uh, like being prepared.â
You grind down a snort, drive your teeth into your lower lip. âIn case you accidentally saw your coworkerâs nudes and them being down to fuck you about it?"
Oh my god, youâre the most ridiculous person heâs ever met. He canât stop himself from grinning because seeing you trying to keep your laughter at bay-
âYes. That.â
âBut what if- what if it was Rossi instead of you seeing them? How wouldâve your plan worked out then, huh?â, you wheeze, shaking from literal suppressed laughter and Spencer makes a sound like a dying horse.
âRossi? Rossi?â
âOh my god, imagine it wouldâve been Hotch. He wouldâve probably fired me so hard and then called me a week later to disappointed-dad-talk me to come back but to please, refrain from bringing personal files to work in the future.â
Spencer laughs. Heâs still rock-hard underneath you, but heâs laughing because thatâs what you always do. Being so absurd and silly that heâs shocked to laughter.
He adores you with every fibre of his being.
âWhat the fuck?â, you ask, incredulous but laughing yourself, âIs my misery amusing to you?â
And Spencer feels like being a little bit of a brat. âVery.â
You flick his nose. Grumble something like Iâll show you misery and then you move your hips against his and Spencer sees stars. Letâs out an embarrassingly high whine.
Ah well. It was still worth it.
âDonât moveâ, you order, when you climb down from him to retrieve a condom. Spencer watches you, lets himself look at you. All the times heâs wondered how it would be, how it would feel like, being in this kind of situation with you. Heâs never in a million years thought it would feel so familiar. Like youâve done this before, so many times that itâs just become something normal between you two. Heâs actually relaxed. So turned on it feels like heâs going to burst any second, but heâs calm. He feels comfortable, so much so that it doesnât even matter that itâs the first time heâs doing this and heâs so clueless about all of this.
But he knows, if itâs with you, he never ever has to worry about anything.
âDo you have lube as well?â, you ask, rifling through his suitcase and distracting him from his sappy thoughts.
âHmm. No, Iâm sorry.â
âDonât be, angelâ, you say while returning to Spencer, and the nickname kind of switches something off again in his brain. Perfect. Heâs never going to be able to be normal again about that word.
âWeâll have to get some, for next time. Always feels better with it.â
Spencer hasnât really registered more than next time next time next time-
Heâs pulled out of his daze of knowing your intentions of this not only being a one-off thing, when you straddle him again, a bit lower on his legs. Spencer moans, loud and high, when you grab him by the base and god, fuck, his skin is tingling with anticipation.
With your other hand, you grab the condom and then use your teeth to open the packet, and his cock jumps in your hand. How are you so hot. How does everything you do turn him on so much, what.
He watches you take out the plastic ring as if heâs watching from above, out of his body. He watches as you position the condom over his tip and then pull it down, down and Spencerâs brain must be lagging because he feels everything with at least a two second delay and shit, god, son of a-
âYou ready, baby?â
He makes a noise between a sob and a whine. Heâs losing his mind. âPlease please please-â
âFuck, Spencerâ, you whine, lift yourself up a bit with your legs and then you are sinking down on him, inch by agonizing inch.
Itâs so good, itâs so good, you are so warm, so hot, and Spencer canât stop making noises until your hips are flush to his and heâs inside you.
You let out a loud, drawn-out moan above him. âFuck, fuck, Spencer. You feel so fucking good, holy shit.â
He feels like heâs one move away from coming. God, oh god, it feels so incredible.
âCan I move? Spencer, please?â, your voice is wrecked, youâre flushed down to your navel, and youâre the best thing heâs ever seen.
âPlease please please pleaseâ, itâs the only word he remembers how to pronounce.
âFuckâ, you almost sob, lifting yourself almost completely off him. You lower yourself back down again, one swift move, and you both moan.
You pick up the pace a little, fucking him with still languid but purposeful thrusts. Every time his cock sinks back into you, Spencer feels bits and pieces of his sanity crumbling away. He canât think, canât speak, his mind so fogged up and fuzzy heâs having troubles remembering who he is. Heâs so completely at your mercy heâd let you do anything to him.
That turns him on a worryingly huge amount. List, something about a list somewhere.
âOh, god, look at you. Spencer, baby, angel. You feel so good inside of me, so good.â
He keens, grabs at your strong thighs bracketing his slim hips. Arches up into you, closerclosercloser-
âYou like being good for me, right angel?â, you ask, hips slowing down to a gentle grinding that absolutely drives Spencer insane and heâs too far gone to even nod, âIt suits you. Being so wrecked for me, moaning and shaking. God, fuck, youâre divine, Spencer, fuck.â
The pressure behind his cock, low in his stomach, thatâs been building all evening, all week, holy shit, itâs too much. Spencer feels delirious, feels your hotness around him, feels your hands pressing his chest down into the bed. Heâs going to die it feels so good.
âYou going to come for me, Spencer? You gonna be good for me and come inside of me?â
Please please please please- itâs all he can think, all he can feel, because because-
You give a particularly hard thrust and-
Spencerâs coming, moaning and moaning, shaking everywhere. Heâs coming and it feels so good, so fucking good. Heâs never come so hard in his life before.
He might have blacked out a little. The next time heâs aware of something, itâs you cleaning him with a wet washcloth. Slow, and gentle and Jesus.
âWhat?â, is the first thing he manages to say, and you snicker beside him. You caress his face, hand running through his hair, down his chest. Peck his lips. Youâre both still naked.
âFeeling good?â, you ask and what kind of question even is that. You just fucked the soul from his body, and you ask him-
âI almost diedâ, he says, tagging your name at the end with an incredulous tint to it.
You snort, setting the washcloth on the nightstand behind you. You lie down close to him, cuddling into his side. âThat was the plan.â
âKilling me with sex?â
âYep. Thatâs for ogling my nudes without my permission, you creep.â
He says your name again, exasperated but so fucking fond itâs a miracle youâve never noticed his pining before. You shrug, pull a âwhat can you do faceâ. Spencer rolls his eyes and then, unceremoniously, flops on top of you.
âUffffâ, you press out. âYouâre smothering me, penguin.â
Spencer shrugs and copies the expression you just did. You bark out a laugh.
âHa! Didnât know post-sex Spencer is such a cheeky little shit. Iâve created a monster.â
He canât entirely control his face, some parts of a smile slipping into his features. He does manage to poke out his tongue at you though, before he buries his face in your neck.
Some minutes tick by, you both enjoying the otherâs presence and warmth and idleness, before something in his brain-
âWait-â, Spencer splutters, pushing himself away from you so that he can look at you. âDid you- did you even finish?â
Heâs kind of horrified. He was so focused on his pleasure- he- how did he forget? He doesnât remember you coming and oh no, heâs such an asshole, who doesnât make sure the other person has come as well and-
âSpencer, Spencerâ, you shush him, fingers trailing along his back, and he shivers, eyes rolling back.
âI made myself come right after, donât worry. You were kind of busy in your post-orgasm, pussy-drunk coma.â
Spencer flushes. âBut I wanted toâŠâ
You laugh softly. âYou can do whatever to me, next time, sweets. This was about you. Weâll go on a date as soon as weâre back home. Fucking Florida is driving me nuts.â
Oh, he suddenly feels shy. A date? You want to go on a date with him?
âReally?â, he asks, and he hates how insecure he sounds.
You send him an unbelieving look. âUh, what about the last hour makes you think otherwise? Seriously, Spencer, we need to work on your confidence.â
âOkayâ, he mutters, a little bit pout-y and you scoff, pulling him down on top of your chest again.
There, with your hands painting patterns on his back and him completely lost in your warmth and familiarity, Spencer thinks that maybe, Florida isnât that bad.
--
Bonus
âSo, then. Made any scientific discoveries last night, pretty boy?â
Spencer chokes on his coffee.
âWhat?â
âNothingâ, his âfriendâ says, smirking and leaning against his table, âYou just seem to have figured out that little problem thatâs been keeping that pretty head of yours all messed up.â
Spencer feels himself flush. Stupid body and stupid involuntary, physiological reactions. Morgan picks up on it, of course.
âOhhhhh, want to share with the class what those discoveries were?â
Briefly, so very briefly, Spencer thinks of his self-compiled list but- no no no no.
âShut up, Morgan.â
â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â
tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @wasitforrevenge @wannabewolf @tommorecommendedfics @winterhi09 @theoraekenslover @chaewondrful @okeyhoezayy @busy-buzzing @laurakirsten0502 @redros3y @trashxqueen @kitty-kei @so-long-daisymay @hayleythecannibal @jsnsnsnszjzj @reeidsluv @kayane28 @moonysreid @desperately-seeking-serotonin @munsonslunchbox @tul1p-mimi @anuttellaa @pinkgomie @elizabethmidnight2017 @evrmorets @cyanidebitsg @bangchansdog @pinterestwhore145 @some-one-yiu-dont-kno @emma-e-a
i hope these work lmao, also let me know if you wanna be on my eternal tag list for any future Spencer fic ;)
#tinywrites#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader fanfic#criminal minds smut#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x y/n#tinywrites:accidents#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fic#criminal minds x reader
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SIZE ~ (true form) sukuna x reader ౚৠ.âăâč 18+
thinking about kuna with a size kink....... is not good for my mental health omg. sukuna has been stalking you for what seem like years. Watching you when you walk to class, going out with your friends, heading to work,,, and who you fuck yourself late at night. You've always had a feeling as if you were being watched for the last couple years. An unknown darkness that follows you around. It should have scared you away,,,, but you couldn't help but give into your sinful desires... especially on the night that this darkness comes to pay you a little visit.
word count: 7600 sukuna x reader smut. size kink,,, obviously. dumbification, fingering, slapping, overstimulation, heavy smut, corruption kink, stalking, voyeurism, breeding, monster fucking, heavy CNC. Double penetration. Perv! Monster! Stalker! Sukuna x Innocent! reader (I have a problem). True form sukuna smut (yes, we get a double dicker sandwich).
Sukuna always knew that he had a size kink, he just never acknowledged the fact until he met you. You were so small compared to him, it was like you were just a measly doll, a puppet. So pretty, so small, and so, so very innocent. He almost felt guilty for the things he fantasizes about doing to you. almost.
He additionally almost felt a little guilty for how many times he'd watched you masturbate through your window late into the night. The sounds you make while touching your pretty pussy were the only thing that calmed him after a long and stressful evening. He had been doing this for a while. Watching you, that is. He liked watching you get dressed for the day, guessing what makeup style you were planning on doing, the little pop you did with your lips right after you applied your lip gloss. It should be disgusting how many times he's rubbed one out to the sight of you popping those pretty pink, full glossy lips. but he didn't care nor did he feel a tinge of disgust towards himself.
He enjoyed all the times he's watched you walk to and from your little cafe job down the street. How your routine consisted of grabbing a coffee at a different spot despite being able to make yourself a free one at your place of work. How you would play with and feed your cats before heading out for the day.
He also enjoyed the days where you went out with your friends to the mall to shop, or to a restaurant for girls night. He especially liked it when you and your girls went out for dinner. All the cute and godawful tiny dresses you found yourself wearing always just about make him lose his cool. The only thing he hated about girls night out was the fact that you knew you were sexy, meaning men swarmed around you like vultures, eyeing you like a piece of meat. It made him want to bend you over the nearest table and fuck you right in front of everyone.
Sukuna owned you, he just hasn't put the collar on you yet.
Tonight was one of those nights where you went out with your girlfriends. Your hair was done up all pretty and your makeup took you hours to perfect, but it was all worth it for the evil, thigh clasping presence you felt in the dark corner of the club you were in. Your glossy lips were a tint of pink and your cheeks matched the deep red of the short dress you were wearing. The familiar dark energy seemed to be radiating all around you, more than normal.
He knew you couldn't see him, but sukuna stood at that corner of the room, hidden away from all the humans, his eyes locked onto one. Sweat glistened on the top of your breasts, and your lips seemed more plump than normal. But the thing that was driving him crazy was the fact that one man couldn't seem to leave you alone. he kept coming up to you in desprate search of starting a conversation, shamelessly eyeballing your prominent curves and licking his lips. sukuna wanted to explode his head right then and there for trying to seduce his woman. And what pissed him off even more was the fact that you were actually playing into it.
You kept making small touches to the mans arm whenever he said something "funny" and you bit your lip whenever he complimented you. But sukuna knew that your laugh wasn't genuine and your smile was a fake. He knew the real you. Of course he did. He'd been stalking you for months, if not years. he made his claim a while ago, and he wasn't gonna let some scrawny low life steal his property with a couple sad jokes.
Your smile faltered just a hair when you felt the dark presence leave the club. It was almost like a warm blanket had been ripped off of you. Your eyes seemed to glaze over, which led the random man to ask if you were okay.
"Yeah, I'm fine, I just feel sick for some reason" your response was an obvious lie, but apparently good enough for the man to believe.
"oh, are you alright, would you like a ride back to yours?" He asks, and to be completely honest, kinda made you cringe. Of course you didn't want a ride because the only reason you were talking to him was to make whatever was watching you jealous.
Sukuna found interest in you because of your innocence. But oh was he in for a surprise. You knew something had been following you, you knew it had been watching you whenever you touched yourself late at night. You've felt it since the very beginning.
its like you had your own curse.
You should have told somebody when the red flags started popping up out of nowhere; they started out small, ranging from your couch pillows being moved around, then progressed into things like your favorite pair of panties going missing, then to things that freaked you out, like waking up to your bedroom window being open in the morning even though you know for a fact that you had closed and locked it. You should have moved apartments. You should have done something when this started happening.
But you didn't. And it made you sick. Getting off on the fact that you knew you were being stalked by whatever was hunting you.
And the fact that you were upset that the mysterious darkness had left proves just how disgusting you actually are.
"guys, I think im gonna call a cab, I just got hit with a wave of sickness and I really just wanna go home and sleep" you told your friends after shooing off the man you had no interest in.
"omg girl are you okay? of course go home and rest im so sorry!" one of your friends said right after taking her 4th shot.
"yeah im fine, just not really feeling it"
"text me when you get home!"
Staring at the dark yet lively city lights flashing by you, you kept thinking about the little stalker you seem to have. You thought it was weird how turned on you got just from an energy, from a presence. You've never felt so.. needed. so, praised ?
No man, or woman. Has ever given you so much confidence, if that's the right word. And because of that, you've never felt another human beings intimate touch. You only want its touch. Whatever it is.
Sukuna knows what he does to you. He could basically see it radiating off of you. How much confidence you gained and how well you hold yourself. And he'd never been happier to be the one gifting you that grace. That's actually the main thing that peaked his interest about you. The way you held yourself throughout life. Nothing could stop you from getting what you want, and he admired that. It made him question himself at first, being so interested about a human being. It made him debate on keeping you alive. How dare a human make him question himself.
But that passed quickly the first time he'd seen your fingers fuck your pussy. it was delicious. he had to restrain himself from shattering your balcony door and fucking you stupid.
You felt it leaking through the cracks of your front door. It felt different than all the other times its followed you around and watched you throughout your life. It was stronger, and it turned you on so, so much more than normal.
You stood outside your apartment door debating on going inside. Your face was burning and your pussy was throbbing.
It felt like you were going absolutely insane, and it pissed you off not knowing what was making you into such a pathetic mess. With a deep breath, you opened your door only to be met with darkness aside from a few street lights illuminating your living room in a dull yellow.
You set your stuff on the couch before walking into your room, slinging your door open, you didn't even have to turn the light on to know that whatever it was, had decided to perch itself in your bed.
For the first time in years, you actually felt scared of whatever it was. Your whole demeanor changed in an instant, and it made sukuna chuckle.
That chuckle vibrated throughout your skull, straight down your core.
Wanting to fold in on yourself out of fear, but too turned on to do so; you walked in, closing the door behind you. Sukuna's eyes never leaving your much smaller frame.
Trying to hide the fact that almost your entire being is screaming at you to run away from the thing in front of you, you stand your ground.
"What are you?" You ask the figure you have yet to fully lay eyes on. All you're able to make out is a monster-like figure with four arms, two behind its head using them as a cushion against your headboard, and the other two resting on its thighs. Its legs are long and big, both of them spread apart, inviting you in, in the most almost taunting way imaginable. Its face is completely hidden in the dark, restricting you from seeing the cocky, shit eating grin plastered on its face.
"What a weird first question to ask, y/n."
Its voice sent chills down your spine, creating an even stronger pulse in your heart, and your clit. You involuntarily suck in a breath at the sound of its voice. Deep, husky and masculine. It's nothing like you've ever heard before, and it makes your skin crawl in excitement and fear.
He chuckles again at the gasp you let out. You stay in your spot, making sure to keep a safe distance away from him.
"Answer my question." The words left your throat as more of a command than anything else. Your eyes never leave his frame, even as he removes his arms behind his head and lean forward, crossing them across his chest. His eyes never leave your body either, drinking in the sight of your skimpy dress.
All he wants to do is burn it off of you and make you scream his name as you cream all over his cock, but that'll take a minute to happen, so he answers you instead.
"King of curses, my dear." His voice sending another wave of shivers coursing through your body. He stands, and your entire body starts screaming at you to run away. but despite that, you hold your ground, challenging the being in front of you.
He's at least over 7 feet tall, one set of arms still crossed over his chest, the other finds their way to rest on his hips.
"The name is Sukuna." You just about drop to your knees. not only is his voice is unbearable, but you've heard about him before. You never believed in ghosts, curses, spiritual beings, anything of the sort and you've never believed any of your friends or family members when they told you legends about the man standing before you, yet here you are. About to be torn apart by the king they've warned you about for so many years.
"Guess you've heard about me, hm?" You can't get your damn mouth to move or your throat to make any noise. Your eyes are as wide as planets and all you can do is take a shaky step back, mimicking his opposite step forward and towards you.
"Why- why are you here?" voice is shaking as you speak, your breathing is jagged, which is prominent in your stutter. Just as sukuna takes another step forward, his features are illuminated in the moonlight shining through your bedroom windows curtains. He's absolutely breathtaking, and not many people would say that.
I guess I really am fucked up huh
"oh y/n, don't play dumb now, doll." His grin never leaves his face and your eyes meet with his. He's scary in the best way possible, and it's making you want to wipe off that dumb grin by sitting on it.
"You're the one whose..." You take a moment to think, which is extremely hard when this monster starts stalking towards you ever so slowly, both sets of arms coming down to dangle by his sides. He tilts his head to the side and begins to hunch his back and bend over to get a closer look at you. The distance is closing in on the two of you, making you unintentionally walk backwards and into a wall.
The sudden feeling of the cold wall on your back makes you yelp in surprise, but you never look away. He hums at you, signaling you to finish your sentence.
"You're the one whose been watching me for so long.." You say under your breath. Chewing the skin on the bottom of your lip. Your hands clench into fists as he keeps getting closer and closer.
"don't act like you didn't enjoy my little haunting game, love. you do remember touching yourself just to the thought of me, right y/n?" His smug smile could be heard just by the tone of his voice. Your breathing deepens and he's stopped right in front of you, face to face with the thing that's been taking over your entire life for the past couple years. Your back would be disappearing into the wall if it weren't made out of sheetrock. He stands up fully and all you can do is stare straight ahead, looking directly in the center of his entire body. He's fucking huge. Letting out a shriveled breath, you close your eyes.
"Look at me, y/n."
You refuse to open your eyes, or even move in the slightest.
He gives you 15 seconds before one of his hands grips the base of your jaw and forces your face upwards to look at him, nails digging into the flesh of your rosy cheeks.
"I said, look at me." With a fearful yelp at the sudden contact, you force your eyes open and are met with the most sinful red eyes you could ever see in this lifetime.
"Good girl." He snickers at the petrified look that paints your face. Even though you look so scared, your eyes are clouded with so much lust. Sukuna can basically smell the arousal pooling in your panties and it's driving him up the wall. Without a word, he pins you in place, making no room for escape by pressing his one of his forearms against the wall above your head, another one finds its way trailing up your thigh.
You let out a desprate sigh at the contact of his fingers. He traces up the skin of your inner thigh, leaving goosebumps to trail behind until he's met with the flimsy fabric of your underwear and it takes him less than a fraction of a second to feel just how soaked you really are.
"You're disgusting." His voice somehow got an octave deeper, but who are you to complain? You whine at his words, following a louder whine as he starts to trace the slit of your pussy through your underwear. Sukuna's hand locks your head in place as you look up into his eyes as he pushes your underwear to the side and pinches your clit, his fingernails creating a painfully pleasurable feeling.
With a loud yelp, your hips buck forward. With his final free arm, he uses his hand to push your hips back against the wall, keeping you in one place.
"Stay still." He commands. His hand on your hip is locking you in place, so you have no option than to obey. His finger traces patterns on your clit and moans dance off your tongue as a result. His fingers pick up the pace and are now harshly massaging at your center.
"a-ah, slow ple-" Without stopping his brutal pace, sukuna lets go of your face and just before it can fall forward, he grips a handful of your hair and yanks it backwards roughly. your eyes to lock with his once more. A scream at the sudden pain erupts from the back of your throat.
"Don't tell me what to do, i'll use you how I please." Sukuna pulls his fingers away from your clit only to land a harsh slap on the bundle of nerves, making you yelp loudly and your body jolt in surprise. He slaps it a couple more times before forcing two of his fingers into your wet pussy.
Sukuna's fingers slide in with ease thanks to his assult on your clit. He was standing at such a close proximity to your body that when your back archesoff the wall, your stomach and chest meet his front. Just as your body meets his, he decides to let go of your hair, making your head fall forward and onto his center. Your hands instinctually reach up and wrap around his body, using him as leverage to keep yourself from falling. Your nails dig into his back as his fingers work wonders deep inside of you, all you can do is bury your head into him to suppress your noises.
His fingers pump in and out of your pussy, curling and twisting at all the right angles, fingering your core as if he's trying to tear you apart from the inside out. Wet sounds come from just below you, but neither of you seem to hear them because they're drowned out by your loud moans and whimpers of pleasure. Sukuna's eyes never leave your body as you come undone.
His now free hand that was once in your hair decides to hook under your thigh, picking it up and letting it dangle, helping get a better angle to fuck you with his fingers. Because of this newfound angle, your back and head hit the wall behind you once more, but your arms don't leave his body.
"Look at you, such a pretty girl. So fuckin' small I could break you so, so easily." Your nails scratch at his back like there is no tomorrow and all you can do as a response is whimper.
"su- kuna" Your hiccuped plea of his name is enough to know you're about to cum all over his fingers, but he wont let that happen just yet.
"say it, y/n" Sukuna says, his voice solid. You look up, tears welled in your eyes as you look into his and your voice breaks.
"Please can I cum, please k-una please please please" Your cheeks are a deep shade of red and your mouth is slightly ajar and oh does sukuna wanna fill up your pretty mouth and ruin that pretty pink lipgloss that stain your full lips.
Without another word, his smirk deepens and his chuckle vibrates inside your skull. He takes his fingers out of you, your juices now running down your thighs and you're pretty sure your panties are completely ruined thanks to the demon above you. Your eyes widen while you plea him to continue with a hushed whimper.
"Hush, little one" is all he says before one set of arms is gripping your thighs and hauling you into the air. Your legs wrap around his torso on instinct and your throat lets out a surprised squeal at his actions. Your hands come up and one of them grips his shoulder, the other rests in his hair. You're now face to face with sukuna and his eyes look deeply into yours. one of his other free hand's is tangled in your hair within a fraction of a second and is pulling you in to kiss him with so much force, it almost gives you whiplash.
Your tongue tangles with his and you let out another squeal of surprise right into his mouth when your back hits the cushioning of your bed. Sukuna is now on top of you, his torso flat against your heat. The hand that was once tangled in your hair is now trailing its way to your neck. Sukuna breaks the kiss and you go to lean forward in protest, but his huge hand wrapped around your neck stops you. Another hand rests on the headboard above you, and the two that were holding you up now rest at the top of your dress.
With brute force and in the blink of an eye, your once beautiful red dress and strapless braw are now being ripped off of you, tiny flames ignite from the freshly ripped seam for a just a fraction of a second. You gasp at the sudden action and Sukuna's glowing red eyes never falter to look at the reaction on your face. He laughs once more at just how jumpy you are. the cold air hits your skin, causing your nipples to grow hard and goosebumps form on your smooth skin. Sukuna grabs the dress and bra out from under you and throw the articles of clothing across the room to be forgotten, all while looking right at you. Once the dress is out of sight, you look up at him, your eyes half lidded with lust that are basically begging him to use you.
Sukuna smiles at how innocent, yet already fucked out you look and decides to lean down toward your breasts, taking one of your nipples and fondiling it inside of his warm mouth. His tongue laps at you and your hands fly to his hair, pulling it out of pleasure. His two free hands now rest at your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, to which you happily obliged. His mouth moves from your nipple and starts to suck at the skin of your breasts. His mouth trails from your chest, down to your stomach and abdomen, leaving deep purple marks and bites that will most likely be staying for days, if not weeks. Your whimpers are like music to Sukuna's ears which only make him want to make you scream his name.
The hand that rested on the headboard is now grabbing your hands from his hair and forcing them down onto the mattress above you and the set of hands that were on your thighs are on your hips. Your eyes dont leave his, even as he rips your panties and throws them in the same direction he did your other clothes, making you bare yourself completely to him.
His hands part your thighs once more and pins them down, holding you in place.
"So cute, so tiny. 'could just ruin you hm?" he speaks as he lowers his head down to your heat, his breath fanning your dripping pussy. Your breathing is even more uneven than before as it's mixed with your hushed moans. Without taking his eyes off yours, he sticks out his tongue and licks a stripe up your cunt, causing your jaw to slack open in the perfect "oh" shape as your whine rings inside sukuna's skull. He licks up your cunt a couple more times before it initially lands on your clit, then he buries his head into your thighs and nips at you like a dog in heat.
His mouth sucks, bites and laps at your clit, and you try with all your strength to buck your hips up, but to no avail, the hands on your thighs pin you in place as your arms are basically unuseful. All you can do is throw your head back in pleasure as this creature devoures you. His grip on your throat tightens a little more and suddenly it's more difficult to breathe, but you dont even care.
Sukuna's saliva mixes in with your fluids that run down your thighs and asscheeks, wetting the bed under you. His long tongue fucks itself inside your pussy and against your walls as his teeth drag across your clit. Sukuna doesn't look away from you, not for a second. He wants to see every twist on your face and flex of your abs as he eats you out, he's desperately and intensively observing you, as if you were the most beautiful, treasurable piece of art he's ever layed eyes on. His tongue is rough as he creates a rhythm of fucking your insides, and sucking your bundle of nerves.
Your arms tug at the restraint of his hands holding your wrists. He's so much stronger than you, yet that fact alone turns you on so much more. Your moans and hushed screams fill the room as small beads of sweat gather on your hairline. Your body twitches under sukuna's control and your clit is throbbing for release as he toys with you.
You're so close to finishing and sukuna can tell so easily. Your moans grow into louder screams and your back arches off the bed. His grip on your throat tightens, cutting off all supply of air and your eyes are thrown open as you choke and cough, trying to get any oxygen possible.
Sukuna laughs into your pussy, which vibrates through your whole body. Your eyes look down into his, desperately trying to tell him to let you cum, or breathe. Whichever one he will let you do. Your silent plea only turns him on even more and your vision is starting to blacken and your head begins to feel light.
"Fuck, you're so adorable when you're beggin' for your life" He says as he sits up and hovers over you, refusing to let you finish. The hand on your throat disappears and you cough and gasp for air, but just as you suck in a deep breath, its knocked out of you by a harsh slap to your face and all you can do is gasp in pain at the sudden stinging on your cheek. He grips your face directly after with the hand he had previously slapped you with and forces you to look down at your pussy.
One of the hands on your thighs moves up to your cunt and plunges inside you. Two of Sukuna's fingers thrust inside your cunt at lightning speed and curl up into your center, hitting that spot you need him most. You choke out a scream and your hips grind into his palm.
"Look at the mess you're making y/n. Such a nasty little girl you are." He says as he looks at your pretty face contorting from the overstimulation he brings upon you.
Sukuna's fingers are relentless as they move fast inside of you. Not even a couple seconds later, you're cumming all over his hand and arm, squirting your fluids all over him as well as your bed sheets. You come undone with a scream.
"K-kuna oh my god!" You're being so loud, you could almost bet the neighbors across the street could hear. Neither of you cared though, all you cared about was how you were about to be torn in half.
Your eyes are watery again and you're still desperately trying to gather air in your lungs. Sukuna's hands let go of your wrists and face, but right after, you hear an article of clothing rip. You sit up slightly in wonder, but your mouth instantly hangs open at the sight of two handsomely large cocks sprung up, hitting just above Sukuna's belly button. Your mouth instantly dried at the sight.
Speaking of sights, Sukuna thought you were a beautiful one. Your hair was a shriveled mess and your face was the most gorgeous shade of red. You looked so fucked out, yet so ready to take anything he gives you like the obedient whore you are. You had a look of fear and interest plastered on your face. Sukuna was never one for love or anything of the sort, but the moment he layed his eyes on you those couple years ago, he knew he was fucked. You were just so different than most of the humans he had ever made contact with. You didn't care about the difference between "good and bad" and you always took what you wanted without second thought, even if it took you a while to grasp. You were always ready for whatever was thrown at you and were always in control of everything around you.
That's why he decided to stick around. Since the beginning, he's wanted to corrupt your world and fuck up your flow of control. He was arrogant and cocky. You just needed someone, or something, to step in and take control over you. And sukuna was never going to let anybody else besides him take control over his woman.
Though he would never admit it out loud, you were breathtaking. You're also the only reason he hasn't burned this world to the ground,,,, completely.
"Think you can take em'?" Sukuna's voice never fails to make a shiver run up your spine. You don't answer him, all you do is stare into his eyes, a silent plea to just have him use you however he pleases. He takes your lack of an answer and laughs quietly under his breath. He brings one of his hands to his face, and smiles into his palm.
"you're gonna be the death of me."
His body slowly stalks towards you, crawling onto the bed, trapping your body between his and the headboard. Your thighs rub together in desprate search of friction. You can't take it any longer, you need him inside you. You need every part of this being in any way you can have him.
"I don't care if you think you can take my cocks' or not, I'll force you to take em' how bout that, yeah?" His head tilts as he speaks and one of his hands grips your leg and pulls your body down farther onto the bed, causing you to lay down underneath his much larger body.
"You're so- so big kuna.." Your voice is uncontrolled and small. Unlike earlier where your screams and moans were ear piercing and just so delicious. Your eyes look up into his, your hands sneak up to wrap around one set of his arms, squeezing his biceps as you chew on the skin of the inside of your cheek.
Sukuna groans at your words. He really was huge, trapping your body underneath his. One of his hands grips the headboard, another comes down to grip the side of your face. His thumb traces your bottom lip, smearing your lipgloss.
Just as you open your mouth, his thumb presses down on your tongue as you suck in his finger. One of your hands makes its way down his body, gripping one of his huge cocks in your small hand. Despite the size difference, Sukuna still hisses in response. You pump his hard dick a couple times, looking directly into his eyes as you suck on his thumb. With painful force, sukuna grips your wrists and suddenly, both your hands above your head once more.
With one hand gripping the headboard, one holding your wrists in place, another moves from your mouth to grip one of his dicks while the final hand holds himself up, hovering right above you. You whine at the lack of control you have, grinding your hips upwards as a sign to let you go, but all sukuna does is laugh at your attempts of escape.
"Stop moving, slut." He pushes one of his dicks at your pussys entrance, but you don't listen to him, you grind your hips upwards once more and Sukuna doesn't seem to like that very much.
"Told you to stop movin' brat" and without warning, or any lube (as if you needed any) he pushes one of his cocks into your pussy with full force. It has you automatically screaming at the stretch. It's painful and you're pretty sure you're bleeding.
Sukuna bottoms out inside of you and stills, the outline of his dick prominant through your stomach, it drives him insane.
Sukuna uses his now free hand and pushes down on the outline of his cock through your tummy and chuckles.
"Fuck you're so small y/n, look at your tummy baby" You obey him and look down, seeing the outline of his huge dick bulging in your abdomen. A scared moan leaves your lips as you take in the sight. It literally looks like he could split you in half at any given moment. Sukuna pulls his dick out, a painful sensation radiates through your vagina as he does. The bulge in your tummy disappears and sukuna's face falters into one of disappointment.
"fuck, you're bleedin' y/n! " sukuna says to you, and just as you're about to look for yourself, he thrusts his dick back inside you, filling you back up again. He bottoms out inside you and a strangled moan that sounds more like a cough forces its way out of your throat.
"full- im so full, too full please-" Sukuna's face turns into one of disappointment again at your words as he says
"that's too bad, I wasn't even close to being finished with stuffin' you doll." He mocks you, and just as he finishes talking, you feel his second cock at the entrance of your ass, which causes you to shoot your head up.
"No, no please dont" you beg him, despite your words not being how you really feel, you beg him not to anyways. sukuna's face is still one that mocks you, pretending as if he feels bad for splitting you open. He pushes his tip into your ass so slowly it almost makes this situation better. The stretch is unbearable, especially with how tight you are with another cock spreading you open and filling you already.
Sukuna's entire tip is stuffed inside, waiting for you to adjust to his length.
"Look at you, taking me so well. Such a good little girl aren't you?" His voice is taunting you. Your arms feel weak from how much you've been struggling to break free, so all you can do I lay there and adjust to his cocks with hushed moans.
Sukuna starts moving his cock deeper inside you slowly, but not slow enough.
"Kuna please no, it's too much I can't take it" Your head shakes from side to side as painful tears fall from your eyes and down your cheeks. Sukuna pouts at this and leans down and uses his tongue to lick the tears away.
"you can take it, you're already doing such a good job for me." This reassurance helps you a little more, and with every inch growing deeper inside you, you find it hard to breathe, and sukuna notices.
He leans down and whispers deeply into your ear
"breathe my dear."
you listen to him and take deep breaths. In one particular deep breath, sukuna takes it upon himself to completely push the other half of his cock into you, getting it done in one swift motion just as you breathe out.
His actions cause you to scream in pain,,, and in pleasure. More tears fall from your eyes. Sukuna doesn't even give you time to adjust this go around, he just can't wait any longer.
"fuck, takin' my cocks' so well, you're so fuckin' tight, couldn't help myself" Sukuna says into your ear.
Your ass feels so tight as he thrusts in and out of both your stretched holes. the pain subsides into pleasure after a couple strokes and your painful hisses turn into sickening moans.
The sound of skin slapping echos off the walls of your dark room, the only light source being the moonlight shining through your window. Your pussy feels like it's going to burst every time sukuna's dicks thrust back inside you.
Sukuna's grip on your bed frame is so tight, the wood crumbles in his hand
"fuck" He curses under his breath
He needs to grip onto something, anything, so he decided to harshly grip the sheets that lay right next to your head. He looks from your face, down to your pussy where he sees his cocks move in and out of you, stretching you so beautifully.
When he looks back up at you, your teary, half lidded eyes lock onto his. You dont break eye contact, even as you moan out his name like a chant that dances off your tongue straight into his ears. And he loves it.
Your walls squeeze his dick's like you're trying to milk him dry. He's even surprised both of them fit inside you.... as if he didn't literally force them to fit.
"Please please let me touch you, just wan' touch please kuna' please" you moan out, begging him to let go of your arms. Much to his objection, he lets you go.
Your arms instantly wrap around his back, nails digging into his skin as you pull your bodies closer together. Your boobs press up against his broad chest as your sweat rubs into his skin.
Two of his arms hold his body up on his forearms above your head now, the other is pinning your stomach to the bed, the feeling of his dick entering and exiting your pussy being felt through your tummy.
his last free hand finds its way to the small of your back, his arm wrapping around your body and pressing you somehow closer against his. Your face is directly into his chest as you moan and scream out his name as his thrusts become wicked and fast, his hips snapping against yours. Your legs spread out for him to take advantage of you.
Sukuna looks down at you buried into his chest, his body hot and sweaty. Your nails scratching daggers into his back, you're pretty sure you can feel blood under your fingernails.
With each thrust inside you, your moans are choked and jagged and it's hard to breathe. The coil in your tummy is about to burst and you feel like you could explode from just how full you really were. Everything was too much, yet so perfect. Sukuna felt as if he was going to burst too, everything was so hot and wet, it was only driving him even more insane.
Your screams grew louder with each stroke of his cocks, signaling to sukuna that you were close.
"want me to come inside you? full you up and breed you like a dumb fuckin whore, turn you into a mommy?" He asks you, and all you can do is shake your head.
"you're gonna take my cum weather you want to or not, understand? Fill you up so nice nd' warm" He bares his teeth as you scream his name..
"no, no please dont I can't handle it, too full please k-una!" He doesn't like this answer, and it causes him to groan through his teeth. With a set of his arms, he grips your waist harshly, and with the other, he's stabilizing himself on the bed above you and sits up slightly.
"I dont care what you want, you're gonna take whatever I give you." he says before pulling his cocks out and flipping you onto your tummy. Your yelp of surprise is cut short as your hands grip at the sheets above you, trying to pull your body up and away from the monster.
"ah ah ah, dont run away from me, im nowhere close to being done with you." Sukuna stands up at the edge of the bed, his feet on the floor. He grabs your ankles and pulls you to the edge where he stands. He lets go of your ankles and roughly grips your hips, pulling you up and slightly into the air. He forces your knees down into the mattress, your ass up and your face in your sheets. His hands remain on your hips as another one of his hands finds a handful of your hair, gripping and pulling your head upwards and next to his chest, forcing you into a painful arch.
Sukuna bends over so his face is next to your ear. His long tongue licks your neck, and up to the lobe of your ear just before he bites it, your moan in exchange.
"now shut up and let me ruin you" is all he says before forcing your face down into your sheets, one of his hands pressing your head down into the mattress.
Sukuna thrusts his cocks into your holes once more, resulting in a muffled scream coming out of your mouth, but he doesn't move. his hips flush against your ass. Sukuna lifts one hand from your hips and lands a harsh smack on your ass, leaving your skin red. Your walls tighten around his cocks.
so he does it again
and again
and again
over and over and over until you're creaming all over his cock and squirting all over your bed once more with more muffled screams.
"pathetic. squirting all over my cock with just a few slaps to your ass. how disgusting could you possibly get?" He mocks you again, landing one more painful slap to your ass as your liquids drip down your thighs and onto the mattress below you. He grabs the flesh of your ass with both of his hands and slowly pulls his dicks out of you, the empty felling in your tummy has you begging for him to fill you back up.
sukuna's face twists into one of interest as he hears your whines of protest.
"oh? what a little slut I have on my hands. and here I thought you truly didn't want me to tear you apart" he says as he thrusts his cocks deep back inside you, hitting your sweet spot that has you squealing ever so loudly. Your hands above your head painfully grip the sheets, your nails digging into your palms drawing blood. His thrusts are endless and with each one, he grows deeper inside of you. He uses one of his hands and rakes his nails down your back, scratching at your skin. It was a painfully blissful feeling that had your walls squeezing his cocks so tight, it causes sukuna to curse under his breath.
With a chuckle, he says
"you're so fukin' tight, im gonna fill you up so full, so swollen with my baby, you'll forever be marked as mine, you'd like that huh?" of course sukuna was lying, he would never ever want to reproduce, but the way you're milking his cocks is making him reconsider his entire opinion on that subject.
His thrusts grow faster and stronger, your pussy and ass flutter around his dicks so prettily, he can see it whenever he looks at your holes. You moan his name over and over again, like it's the only thing you know how to say.
The knot in your abdomen kept getting tighter and tighter every time he hit your sweet spot, you were so close to finishing and all you could do is yearn for sukuna to carry you to the finish line. So that's exactly what he did.
The hand holding your head down into the mattress disappeared, so you turned your head to the side, resting your cheek against the mattress, your eyes find his and oh fuck
oh good god
sukuna lost it
he threw his head back with a loud moan and tightened his grip on your hips so intensely he felt your skin break from under him, his nails digging into your flesh as blood ran down your legs, pooling on the sheets, staining his fingertips.
You had a puddle of drool where your face lays. your lips were bleeding from biting down on them so roughly, and your eyes. oh fuck your eyes were so perfect. it was as if sukuna could read a whole book just by looking into your eyes.
Just as he was about to finish, you came all over him once more, wetting the bed, soaking it really. Your walls fluttered all around him like the butterflies in your stomach. as you came, sukuna shot warm ropes of cum straight into your ass and tummy, so full it was leaking out of both your holes. but it wasn't enough.
It wasn't enough for sukuna.
In the middle of both your orgasms, he resumed his thrusts, but your body gave out and you collapsed on the mattress, your stomach hitting the wet bedding.
your body couldn't move, you became putty in his hands and you had no complaints.
sukuna cursed as he crawled over you, his dicks never leaving your walls. one of his arms snaked its way under your arm to grip your throat, another one held your tummy, another spread your legs enough for him to continue fucking you, and the last one held him up.
His hips met your asscheeks in a monsteristic rhythm, a burning sensation beginning to form on your flesh. your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your jaw layed slack open, drool running down your chin.
he was fucking his cum into you, making your soul intertwine with his in more ways than one. He fucked you through your next and final orgasm, your legs shook involuntarily as your guys' mixed cum got everywhere. it dripped down sukuna's cock, onto the mattress, between your thighs, onto his abdomen, all over your asscheeks, it was everywhere.
Your eyes closed, even as his thrusts continued, your mind faded away from your body and before you fully lost consciousness, you could hear sukuna's words ring through your ears.
"Ill see you soon, y/n."
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