#the ladies that worked there fed him for a while out the back but then were sad he was on the streets
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real mush face hours
#this is dexter idk what breed he is#we adopted him in 2021. he's gonna be six this year#he lived on the streets in Alabama until he was turned in by some concerned Salvation Army employees#the ladies that worked there fed him for a while out the back but then were sad he was on the streets#now he's up north with us and he's the best and sweetest lad of all time#and he pees and runs away when he gets scared. took us a whole year to make him not afraid of EVERY GODDAMN THING#but it's been so worth the effort (and stained floors) because my god he's so squish and a total snuggle butt 🥹🥹#dinkposting#my bf and i call him dink bc we didn't get to pick his name (bf's dad did) and we wanted him to be moose#dexter is an adult man's name ffs
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Danny no longer has a haunt. So… he decides to find another one. And while he technically has a whole world (other dimensions aren’t an option because he’s going to stay near where Jazz’s grave is, damn it) there’s only a couple of other places with enough ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. Nanda Parbat, Tokyo, and Gotham.
Nanda Parbat had a weird old musty immortal that kept trying to summon him and exchange power for the ability to “take a worthy body and rain as much destruction” as he’d like. As if Danny would need a body to bring the world to its knees.
Tokyo… it’s too far from Jazz’s grave. He could ask Wulf or even open his own portal but when Danny tried it out, Tokyo was too peaceful. Obviously there’s crime, but nothing… nothing big like Danny’s used to.
Danny ends up picking Gotham, even if the sewer zombies and the weird group of rich fruit loops with an adoption problem creeps him out. So, he destroys the portal, packs up his parents’ house and sells it, and hauls ass to the cesspool calling his name. His family’s stuff is stored respectfully in a vault located on the deepest parts of his personal haunt in the Infinite Realms.
And honestly, he’s doing better. Sure, he’s got a shitty apartment near another revenant’s almost-haunt and he feels like he’s drowning all of the time, but Danny isn’t in danger of turning into Dan, he’s catching up on royal paperwork, and he’s got like a job as a barista. In his own coffee shop that paid for using his parent’s money (who, despite their hazardous everything, made a crap ton of money off of their more normal inventions).
Gotham’s got some pretty interesting local gangs, most of which respected the sanctity of Danny’s cafe. Sure, they tried blowing it up and tried extorting money from him in the form of “protection costs” but after three months of failure, they gave up.
(Really, the local gangs gave up when they saw him take three shotgun shells to the chest and continued to work.) (They didn’t know it never hit him. Intangibility is extremely useful.)
The Rogues, on the other hand, just gave Danny flashbacks. Their gimmicks are different, sure, but after years of Box Ghost, Skuller, Lunch Lady, etc., Danny’s more than done with costumed villains. They don’t bother him either. Some of the reason is probably due to Harley and Ivy, who had walked into the cafe and (because they were bruised and scratched up from a fight) triggered Danny’s mother hen tendencies. They were promptly fed and watered and caffeinated and their hyenas were also similarly taken care of. They declared the cafe under their protection and that was that.
Red Hood stops by, and begins to interrogate him. But when Danny met his… helmet eyes? The crime lord paused, paid for his coffee, and sat in a corner table of the cafe for the rest of the day.
And he kept coming back?
But Danny figures it’s because Hood was a revenant and people who had come close to death tends to feel more comfortable around him.
(Considering this is Gotham where people almost die every other day? Yeah, he’s pretty much friends with everyone. Or at least, less likely to get shot.)
(Hood does stay because of the King’s presence and the Pit calming itself, but also Danny’s hot and he’s got a sleeper build and Hood definitely did not imagine himself in the place of the heavy box he saw Danny lift effortlessly onto a table. No.)
But of course, the peace couldn’t last forever. But by then, Danny was so antsy, he welcomed the trouble with open arms.
It starts with a clown. Danny knows who he is. He knows who Danny is.
So, Danny has no idea why the clown thought it would be a good idea to aggravate the owner of Gotham’s official neutral grounds. See, Clovkwork? Danny’s learned how to gauge his own political importance!
“HAHAHAHAHA! COME OUT, DANNY-BOY! LET ME TELL YOU A JOKE!”
Danny comes out and grabs a chair, and with a flat expression, says, “you’re not funny and I hate clowns.”
And then he swings and slams the chair into the Joker’s face. Over and over again until Danny’s sure the clown won’t get back up. The thing about Gotham’s outdoor chairs is that they’re mad out of steel and are bolted down to the ground to prevent undedicated thieves (dedicated thieves can and will steal the bolted down steel chairs). The Joker’s hired muscle just watched this scrawny twenty-something year old yank the steel chair and take some of the fucking ground and the bolts with it and beat the fuck out of their boss who is the literal Joker.
They surrender on the spot and is taken to jail. Danny just smiles at the officers who come by and since he’s got pretty privilege and they don’t want to mess with the guy who, again, owns one of Gotham’s official neutral ground and also beat up Joker without breaking a sweat, the officers just lets him go with a warning.
And then the bats comes, and wow, Danny’s playing mentor to a formally dead person again!
But before that, the Red Hood asks for an autograph on the Gotham Gazette article with a picture of a tired Danny standing over Joker’s prone body. Then Hood stammers through asking Danny out (which Danny said yes to because he’s tired, not blind, and Hood is built like a brick house and HOT).
Batman interrogates him. Danny, who can tell that this man needs therapy and is Sad TM, tells Bats that Danny’s died before and that’s why he’s like this. He also calls Batman a furry, but like in a nice way. And then he kicks Batman out with a coffee and a file on Nanda Parbat.
Now, Danny’s got a date to prepare for and he realizes that maybe this is what Jazz wanted for him- to be happy and mostly safe and happy. (Or, happier, he thinks. It’s been a long time since he’s been truly happy, but this might be a good start)
#bamf danny phantom#danny phantom#dc x dp#jason todd#Jason takes him to a library and they pick out books for each other#Danny asks him on a second date and they talk about the book over coffee#and then they watch the stars (Danny uses his ghost powers to clear a patch of sky)#but Danny just kind of watches Jason’s face and goes yeah this is just as good#Danny dngasf#Danny will throw hands with a clown#Danny thinks the Gotham Rogues are kinda cute#with their gimmicks#unimpressed bc they’re kind of obvious#and he’s seen worse and better#danny is Gotham’s Mom Friend
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Hi Kacie!! Now that your requests are open... Could I request a smutty fic where Spencer finds out reader has a not-so-common sensitive spot (like her legs, hair, arms, whatever body part you want). Maybe he finds out kinda in a public setting after she gets all flustered and wants to keep pushing to test his theory?? You can take as much inspo from this as you want<3
(If this emoji's not taken)-💃 anon
A/N: Hello! Sorry for going MIA for a while there. It was the beginning of a new school year here in SK, so I've been really busy! I've been chipping away at this one little by little, and it's finally done! I hope you enjoy it ♡
Warnings; Smut, 18+ Minors DNI, case details, misogyny from a bartender in the opening scene, Semi-public sexual experimentation, edging, PinV sex, use of pet names (good girl), slight degradation, cum play, etc.
Masterlist
The back of the bar was dimly lit as you walked through it, keeping pace with your teammate as you kept one eye on the shady inhabitants of the bar.
You'd been sent - with Spencer of all people - to ask the local dive bar staff about suspicious regulars. A fact that didn't exactly take into account his general lack of intimidating looks and your status as the newest member of the team.
A trial by fire if you'd ever seen one.
You tried your best not to stick out like a sore thumb, but the people in these parts could spot a Fed from a mile away. And though Spencer was remarkably pipe-cleaner-like, they'd certainly recognised enough FBI in him to clam up upon your entrance.
“We got some visitors, I see. What can I be getting you, little lady?” The barman greeted you as you reached the first stool at the counter, a patronizing smile on his moustache clad lips.
“If it's okay, we'd like to ask you some questions. I'm Agent Y/N with the FBI. This is my partner, Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“You're a Fed? Now, why would you bother doing all that hard work when you could be warming my bed, girl. It's definitely more honest and satisfying work.”
The way the man leered at you over the counter has you freezing momentarily. Your instincts were saying fight, but you held your tongue just long enough to not ruin any rapport your team could build with locals.
“I'm flattered, but already spoken for I'm afraid. Have you seen any suspicious men in here in the last six months, one that would pass through only semi-regularly, maybe with a few female companions, though never the same.”
Professionalism at the cost of your peace of mind was going to be a hard learn for you as you grit your teeth and swallowed the bile in your throat.
He just continued to leer at you as he dried up beer glasses.
“You're looking for a man who likes cheap whores? Maybe you are in the market for a career change after all.”
That was about all you could take, and luckily, Spencer Reid was well aware.
Quickly grabbing you by the wrist, he pulled you behind him defensively and leaned over the bar, his voice low and somewhat chilling.
“Disrespect my partner like that again, and I'll have you charged with aiding and abetting a murderer who has kidnapped and ended the lives of three local girls. Local girls whose fathers you're more than likely acquainted with, who absolutely have multiple acres of property and just enough bullets to put you in the ground.”
The blood rushed to your ears at his voice, but the light grip of your wrist held you in place indefinitely.
All the fight left your body, as you found yourself coming dangerously close to melting into Spencer in relief.
He forced the man to answer some more basic questions, but it wasn't as if you could hear them. He stroked a quick thumb back and forth across your wrist as all the thoughts fled your head, and the words fell asleep on your tongue, resting there until he released you from his grip.
You'd known that the area was slightly sensitive for a while, having accidentally brushed up against things and felt serious chills shoot up your spine. What you hadn't known was that it was that kind of sensitivity.
Though, in all honesty, you hadn't exactly known that you could feel that kind of excitement for Spencer either. You just hoped he wouldn't notice. That much.
Having finished his line of questioning and reiterating his threat, he moved his hand from your wrist to the small of your back and adeptly guided you from the restaurant and out of the line of vision of every pair of eyes in the place.
“Are you okay?” He asked when he finally got you to the car, voice still quiet and low, and slightly too close to let you fully relax.
“Peachy. He talked to you at least.” You turned away from him and began opening the passenger side door.
“Nothing new or useful, though. Your bpm is high,” he joined you in the car, putting on his seat belt while you completely let go of yours, letting it zip back into itself.
“My… my what?”
“Your bpm is high. Your heart was beating so fast,” he said, reaching over you to help you reclip it. “Were you nervous, Y/n? Or just sensitive?”
“Your mouth is entirely too close to mine to be asking that question,” you breathed out, cursing your eyes from stealing a glance at his lips.
Only five minutes into this sudden attraction to Spencer Reid, and you were already mortified and extremely horny. In equal measures.
“What would be the appropriate distance to ask that, then?”
“I hear Australia is lovely this time of year.”
He chuckled softly at you as he finished adjusting your seat and then moved far enough away to let the ground swallow you in peace.
Never one to leave well enough alone, it seemed that Spencer took it upon himself to experiment with you for weeks on end after that.
He'd constantly ask you to pass him papers, pens, anything that'd allow him to run a finger across the inside of your wrist. On more than one occasion you'd caught him staring into your eyes as he did it, and it took a nearly embarrassing amount of time to realise he was checking how dilated your pupils were before and after.
When he'd gathered enough data for that line of questioning, he moved on to bigger things.
You knew you were in danger of seriously falling head over ads when he offered to walk you to your motel door in a seedier case location.
You, an FBI agent with a real-life gun and badge and job at Quantico, and you were jumping at the chance to have a man walk you to your room. You'd have been embarrassed if you weren't burning with anticipation.
You hoped that like every other man in history, he was gently trying to insinuate himself into your bedroom, and by extension, your bed and more intimate places.
So you were more than slightly disappointed when he started wishing you a good night. All of the aforementioned disappointment fled your body, though, when he picked up your hand and dropped a kiss to the inside of your left wrist, repeating the action on the right before wordlessly retreating.
You stared at his back as he walked purposefully down the corridor and into his own room, leaving you to pick up your jaw and retreat to your room to lick your wounds.
You wished it was him picking you up instead and found your brain imagining just that as your fingers dropped between your thighs that night.
It became a case tradition for him to tease you like this, kissing your wrist after innocently walking you back to your hotel room. The others thought it chivalrous, almost cute and childlike, a form of courting that graced the good old days. They didn't know he grabbed you by the waist and held you against his hard-on every time you rode an elevator together. They didn't know his tongue darted out a few times to lick your wrist on occasion. They didn't know how you once mentally begged him to bite you there and how you shuddered as he ran his teeth along the vein there.
Spencer was coming to the crux of his research regarding how far he could push you before you cracked. Only now, it was how far he could get without pushing you against a wall and jumping your bones.
You knew you were in danger when he offered to escort you home after a case.
“To walk you to your door, you know? Like always,” he smiled at you, the picture of innocence as you became damp between your thighs.
“Sure. Yeah, okay, I'll get my keys, let's go.”
You weren't sure how no one else noticed that Spencer didn't have a car to drive himself home after taking you to yours. You were unsure if they'd connect the dots between him escorting you home and his own apartment being 45 minutes in the opposite direction.
Luckily for you, you could keep your hands at 2 and 10 the entire journey, away from his grasp. If he'd have touched you right then, you're sure you'd have driven both of you right off the road into a ditch.
Or a pedestrian.
The drive was calm, but pulling up forced your heart to your throat and kept it suspended there, almost like it was frozen at gunpoint, a deer in the headlights.
“We're here.”
“Great. Let me walk you in.”
In. You swallowed hard, wishing very much for him to be inside of your apartment.
“Okay.”
Stepping into the elevator a few minutes later, he waited mere seconds after the doors began closing to pull you into his personal space. He was hard, he was so hard once again and his cock was now straining against your ass.
“Spencer, we need to talk about t-that,” he stroked your wrist as his hand splayed across your stomach, holding you firmly against him.
“About what, Y/N?”
He pulled your arm up almost as if inspecting the wrist for imperfections, and your head melted back into his chest. Why was this elevator so goddamn slow?
You sprung out quickly when the doors pinged open finally and moved straight towards your door without a glance back, but you felt him close behind you.
“Y/N, wait for me, wait, I'm sorry,” he called out quietly as you forced your keys into the lock as fast as possible.
“Y/N, I'm sorry if I stepped over the line, I didn't mean too, please look at me-”
You got the door open and turned back around to grab a firm hold of his tie and yank him into the apartment behind you.
“Months. Spencer, you have been edging me for months, and I am sick of it.” You half growled at him, slamming the door behind him and then pushing him up against it.
“I can feel how hard you are right now. Obviously you want to fuck me, so why aren't you?”
His face went from shocked to intrigued, then shot straight for mischievous as he cracked a smile, and you felt his hands wrap around your wrists slowly.
Before you could react, he had your positions swapped, your arms above your head pinned at the wrists and his breath hitting your neck as he answered.
“I wanted to see how long it would take you to break.”
Your lips leapt to his, hitting him angrily as you searched for more pleasure in his touch, one leg pushing up to wrap around his waist as his hips settled between yours.
He met you at your level, giving just as good as he got.
“Call it scientific curiosity,” he murmured, lips trailing down your neck, but hips pinning you in closer to the wall, keeping you trapped there. He made his way along your shoulders and then pressed light teasing kisses up your arms while rutting his hips into you, dry humping you against the wall as your eyes glazed over in lust.
“You react when I touch you, you heat up. But it gets worse if I touch you here, right Y/N?” His lips again found your wrist, but this time his teeth grazed across the veins he found there.
“You get so horny now when I look at you. I can grab your wrist and make you beg for my cock, isn't that right?” His mouth was back by your ear as your legs went limp under you. He still had you caged against your own door, and you had no idea what to say to that.
Part of you wanted to protest purely because of the rough tone of voice he was using. The other wanted to flood to the floor and tell him yes, beg him to just fuck you and be done with this pure torture.
“I asked you a question, Y/N. Isn't that right?”
“Yes, yes, Spencer fuck, I don't care anymore, yes. You can touch me and I'll react to you, please help me.”
“Good girl.”
He pulled away instantly, but his hands wrapped firmly still around your wrists. Slowly, he pulled you towards him as he slowly walked backwards further into your apartment. You thought for a second about just throwing yourself back into his arms, to close the space he'd created again between the two of you.
You tried it, lifted your head slightly, begging his lips to return there, but he held firm. Each step was an agony of need, and you fought to hold your tongue, begging yourself not to beg him so pathetically.
“Such a good girl, I'm holding you by the wrist, and you won't even protest about how slow I'm being.”
Your mouth fell open as you registered his words.
“You're being an ass.”
“What was that? You want me to touch your ass?”
“Spencer!”
“Don't worry, we'll get to that.”
His back finally made contact with your bedroom door, and you stumbled forward into his chest as he kept his grip even still.
“You're going to listen, right? You're going to listen to me and do what I ask you to do, aren't you?”
You wavered again. He'd been teasing you, but now he was serious, his tone light and his voice soft, but you could feel the strength in his grip. You could feel his arousal at your hip.
“Yes, Spencer.”
“Good. Get on your knees on the bed. No clothes.”
He released your hands and opened the door for you as you tried your best to walk forward calmly.
By the time you reached the bed, you'd removed most of your clothes, but you hesitated at the underwear as he watched from behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder saw him palming his cock through his pants, still leaning against the door he'd opened for you.
He was getting off watching you, and you were frozen in arousal.
“No clothes, Y/N.”
“I know.”
“Underwear is clothing.”
“I know that, too, Spencer.”
“Then take it off.”
You shot a quick glare over your shoulder as you unclaimed your bra behind your back and threw it to the floor.
“On my knees, right?” You said, climbing on the bed still clad in your panties.
“I also said no clothes.”
“If you're so invested in my state of dress, how about you come and help me rectify it.”
His lips twitched in small annoyance, but he followed the trail of clothes you'd left, ridding himself of his tie, shirt, jacket, and pants along the way.
He climbed on the bed slowly behind you, not opposite as you'd presumed he would. His hands reached out to touch your back before slowly sliding all the way up to your neck and pushing your upper body down into the sheets.
You let out a little squeak in shock, but let his hands guide you, feeling especially pliant when he grabbed your hands and crossed them behind your back.
“Maybe the panties can stay. I'll just decorate them afterwards,” he said, and with that, he pulled your hips up with his free hand guiding you into the position he wanted you in, and pushed two fingers into you.
“Fuck, Spencer-” your brain short circuited as he pumped the digits slowly in and out of you, setting an agonizing pace but holding you so tight that.you couldn't even press your cunt back into his fingers.
“What? What is it, Y/N? Tell me how you feel?”
“Feel good, so good Spencer, p-please more.”
He shifted slowly behind you, pulling his fingers out almost completely before pushing them back in, this time with another finger added. He didn't quicken his pace as you assumed he would, but he took his time stretching you out further as you moaned and whined underneath him.
“More. You wanted more,” he reminded you, and his voice was like a sharp hit straight to your cunt, rough and hot and filling you completely.
You barely registered the orgasm that flowed over you, your brain replaying his words on a loop as he continued pleasuring you.
“That's it. That's a good girl. Get my fingers nice and wet.”
When you finally grounded yourself in the moment again, your cheeks flushed as you realized just how wet you'd gotten. You felt your arousal still dripping down your leg and turned your face further into the sheets to hide your embarrassment.
He pulled his fingers out of you, though, and with his now free hand he crouched over you and hooked his fingers under your jaw lifting your head and body up, forcing your crotch back into his as your back arched.
“Don't hide from this. Look how wet you are for me, Y/N. Taste it.” He tapped his fingers against your mouth and you were ashamed at how fast your lips dropped open, tongue falling out to let him wipe his cum stained fingers against your pretty little lips.
You tasted yourself on his fingers, wrapping your tongue around them and sucking as he dragged his dick across your back, trying to relieve himself in any way he could.
“Good girl. It's time for one more, Y/N.”��
You released his fingers with a wet pop as he pushed you back into the sheets. Lining himself up, he entered you easily, your cum providing ample lubricant.
You whined at his first few pumps, certain he was going to continue his torturous pace and leave you begging for more hours into the night.
Instead, he let himself work you up to it, each thrust gaining in speed and strength until you could hear the slap of your skin against his more vividly than your own heartbeat.
His cock was thick, filling you perfectly as you lost yourself in the sensations.
“One day, I'll handcuff you to this bed,” he said, leaning down and whispering in your ear as each part of your body vibrated with lust.
“I'll tie you down to this bed, and I'll treat you like a princess. I'll eat your cunt for hours until you cum every time my breath hits your cunt, and I'll cover your pretty tits in my seed. I'll let you use my cock as your personal sex toy, and I'll fulfill every single need you have.”
His hand released your wrists as both of his hands came to wrap around your waist, pushing you deeper into the plush covers and changing the angle of his dick.
You screamed at the pleasure, forgetting the paper thin walls your apartment boasted.
“Fuck, Spencer.”
“And you're going to love every single second because your brain switches off every time I touch your delicate little wrists.”
With that, another wave of pleasure spread through your body, sending prolonged shivers throughout your body.
You felt him withdraw and heard the sticky mess of him stroking himself behind you until he made good on his promise and sprayed his generous load across your ass and panties before collapsing on the bed next to you.
The two of you laid there for what felt like hours, sharing nothing but your labored breaths and the space of the bed before he finally rose.
You tried not to sleep, but your entire body felt stiff from the awkward, if enjoyable, position he'd held you in.
Your eyes drifted shut, and you just listened to his movements. A creaking floorboard here, a stumble against some furniture there, culminating in some running water and a return to your space.
“Y/N,” he whispered, cautious to rise you from what he assumed was much needed sleep.
“Mmmm,” was all you could reply.
“I realize now that I made a pretty big mess, so we need to get you in the bath.”
“Mmm,” you protested, brows furrowing as you tried to gather your sheets closer around you, cradling yourself in the warmth.
But doing so only made you more aware of the sticky wet mess around your torso and legs, and you let out a small, frustrated sigh.
“You're stubborn, you know that, right?” He said, admiration coating his tongue as he lifted you slowly and helped you place your feet on the floor and walk towards your bathroom.
“Spencer, shouldn't have a bath, too sleepy.”
“I know, I'm going to stay.”
“In the bath?”
“In the bath.”
“Good.”
And it was. You let him lift your legs one by one into the scorching water and melted back into him, your head resting on his shoulder as if it were the most comfortable pillow you'd ever used, and you slept.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#mgg#spencer reid smut#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid criminal minds#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n
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Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)
Dc x Pjo
Part 5
________________________
Diana is seething, she's filled with rage, the lies Bruce fed her?
"I'm very worried for their wellbeing..."
"I miss them very much"
"they're so young, I don't want anything bad to happen to them"
Asshole.
She kicked the door of the justice hall down, startling the kids who had gone back on patrol from trying to find (Name)
"hey what gives?" Flash asks
Superman raised his eyebrow "you left so suddenly, mind telling us where you've been?"
She looks at batman's sidekicks and then at him, while staring him straight in the eyes "the kid is dead" she says
"what?"
A silence washing over the entire room
"the lady who attacked your house, that wasn't an ordinary lady, in the eyes of mortals she may look normal, but in the eyes of divine beings... It's a monster, that monster was an empousa, a poisonous fire breathing monster who feeds on the blood of mortals and divine beings alike" Diana thinks about how she'll explain everything to J'onn later, but figure that he's probably reading her mind right now
Her suspicions are confirmed as J'onn nods at her
"your kid, (Name), they're a demigod, because of that they're a target for monsters, they're gone, eaten, sorry Bruce"
Crap Diana thinks, was she too harsh? She was just too angry
Ignoring the fact Diana just announced Bruce slept with a god, Superman placed his hand on Batman's shoulder "My condolences Bruce"
Everyone was giving their apologies to the bats
She didn't look at the widened eyes of batman's sidekicks, she noticed but chose to ignore the sound of Dick collapsing into a chair, she heard didn't pay attention to the footsteps of Damian who had to run out of the room
Cass stiffened up, she trembled as if resembling a cracking statue, Steph wants to cry, but she knows very well that she doesn't deserve to cry over you, Barbara just- it's like she just stopped working
As much as she feels so cruel right now, she knew it was the only thing that will keep you hidden, if not, they'll keep trying to find you
Green arrow crossed his arms, but it was clear he was disturbed by the death of a 12 year old kid "Diana, please elaborate"
"Bruce here, had intercourse with a god, that led to (Name) being born, monsters attack demigods, people who are half god half human such as myself, without proper protection monsters kill demigods easily, and (Name) suffered that fate, monsters attack demigods while they're young and tasty and leave them alone as they grow older, they don't feed usually on humans, just animals and demigods"
It seemed like Batman or more appropriately for this situation Bruce wasn't even listening, his mind still stuck at the announcement of your death
"If it'd make you feel better, you can take a break for a while... I know what it's like to lose family, we all do, let yourself grieve Batman, you might be a hardcore vigilante but you're still a father" (to everyone but name) Barry suggests
Starfire has been trying to calm Dick down, his breathing has become irregular and unstable, switching between deep and short breaths
_________________________
Jon runs after Damian, it looked like any second, the unbeatable demon spawn fell to his knees
"Damian! Are you okay!?" Jon asks
"I-i thought it'd only last a few days... Maybe a week if they're incompetent, or maybe months if we're unlucky" Damian started to cough
He took off his robin mask and took a deep breath "Since there was no body, I was fine, I thought they're okay, maybe a few injuries here and there, but they're alive so it's fine, but- the reason there was no body... Was because she was eaten- by stupid, how'd -" Jon didn't know what to do, between the both of them, Damian was the composed one
Then two of his siblings came, Jason and Tim
"what the fuck? Demon spawn?" Jason was surprised, and immediately glared at Jon, accusingly looking at him for making his brother this way
Jon put his up defensively "I didn't do anything, promise, I'm trying to comfort him!"
Tim knelt down with Damian "what happened?"
"(Name) is dead"
And suddenly it feels like nothing matters anymore
____________________________
"okay! And this'll be your bed!" Selina ended the tour of the cabin
Selena Beauregard, Daughter of Aphrodite, she was your sister, Gosh you have a sister! And she was nice! She wasn't like Cass who for some reason, closed her eyes everytime you tried to communicate with her
Barbara pretended to be busy, too busy, what do you mean you have to work? Didn't your workplace get burned down by two-face two days ago?
Steph- at least she was honest, she straight up told you she' didn't want anything to do with you
A guy with blonde hair and blue eyes walked out of the bathroom, a nice change from the black and blue eyes you're used to
"hey! You're our new sister! The one who was flirting with that Hephaestus kid-"
"Aster! (Name) Told me they were just friends and if they were flirting what's wrong with that? Love is love" Selena came to your rescue
Aster tilted his head confused with the way you're shifting "what's wrong?" He asked
"aren't people in Greek mythology who are named after flowers turn into them?" You nervously fiddle with your fingers
With that some of your siblings who are in their respective spaces burst out laughing and Aster is hugging you laughing whilst explaining that in Greek mythology "the people came first, not the flower"
That seemed to calm you down a bit, then another girl, whose name is Drew spoke up "so (Name) who's your mortal parent?"
You freeze up at this question but the other kids seemed normal about it
"don't worry (Name) it's some game we play, cause mom's standards are high, we compare mortal parents" Another one one your brothers said, his name is Castillo, he had a faded hair color of blue to purple that reminded you of Ramona flowers
(this is actually canon in Pjo, lmao)
He continued "my father was a famous k-pop idol" he bragged
A little girl then shouted "My dad was a model for Designer clothing!"
Selena rolled her eyes "So whose your dad (Name)?"
You didn't want to answer that, but at the same time- this is the first sibling playing you've ever been in, you're included here!
"my dad is Bruce Wayne... You can look me up on Google- but he, he really wasn't the best- umm dad"
"THE BRUCE WAYNE?" Someone gasps
"i thought his name was Brucie?"
You hear in the background
"I didn't know he was an asshole" Aster muttered
"come on bro, the guy parties all day and he's with children, how could you ever think that guy's a good father?" Castillo shrugs his shoulders
"that's okay (Name), a lot of mom's lovers are vain, taking it too seriously in their heads that they slept with the goddess of beauty, that's why mom stopped revealing herself, there are rare moments, but they're rare" another sister of yours says
You honestly feel so at home here...
________________________
I'm now realizing that the "Neglected daughter" fandom is literally so small, I just saw like three of my readers in another fic I was reading XD
Let's support each other!!!! :3
Also the characters without description are canon characters, people who are actually in pjo
The one with descriptions are OC's!
So Drew and Selena are canon characters! :3
Callisto and Aster aren't
I hope you enjoy the chapter!
@wpdarlingpan @mountvesuvu @nathaly36 @delias-stuff @vanessa-boo @bat1212 @sadslasher13 @ellaprime7
#dc universe#percy jackon and the olympians#dcu#percy jackson#percy pjo#yandere platonic#yandere batfam#yandere#warmyanderepjoxdc
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Munch
Summary: Aegon is obsessed with fucking you. He’s used to getting what he wants and doesn’t understand that you don’t seem to want him. Fluffy smut as always. Childhood friends to mild enemies to lovers.
Author’s note: Again I got so sidetracked with the plot I don’t know if the smut is any good! This is heavily inspired by that one scene in Heartbreak High where Spider says nah I’m good to Missy after eating her out in the car park. I hope you enjoy and as always please leave comments or feedback! Sorry if it’s cringey but I think we all kind of want a hot prince to make us feel a little bit like home.
Content warnings: eating out, coming untouched, dry-humping, shameless flirting, semi-public sex, Aegon being a dick, Aegon having a dick. You being fed up.
Word Count: 2500
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
As a prince, with a certain reputation, Aegon II Targaryen knew a lot about sex. He wasn’t weird like his brother, Aemond, who kept a diary of all his conquests with notes on how to best improve his performance. But he did know how to please a woman.
As one of his sister’s lady-in-waiting, you had always been in the periphery since you had left your home and came to court as a young girl. Though you had become even more beautiful as time passed, as the Tyrell’s were renowned to be, there were so many beautiful women at court. And who was Aegon to ever deny himself?
But you did catch his eye one day. He saw you sitting in the gardens, under a shady tree in the heat of summer, making a daisy chain with your nimble and deft fingers. His mind immediately went to how those hands would feel around his cock.
“Why, hello there.” The prince purred. You looked up at him in confusion, he had just blocked your light and seemed to be talking like a character from one of those scandalous and well-thumbed romance novels you hid under your bed.
Aegon leaned against a tree, purposefully flicking a strand of straw like hair from his eyes and smirking in such a way that made it seem like he was doing his best impersonation of a twat. You giggled. You had rarely interacted with Aegon since your childhood together. You used to be close and constant playmates, but propriety had pushed you apart as you became a respected lady and he seemed to become, well, a whore. You had heard he was a dangerous womaniser now, but was this really the man the maids spoke about in reverent tones? This silly boy leaning against a tree and doing his best to cross his arms so that his doublet barely strained against his soft forearms?
You smiled, teasingly. “Can I help you with anything?”
Aegon paused, unsure of how to respond. Surely it was obvious what he wanted? You must have become a very virtuous maiden, he thought, unused to talking to men.
“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to have a romp under those bushes over there. I’m quite an excellent lover as I am certain you are aware.”
You froze. Had you just been propositioned by the prince? Who wanted you to have a quick tumble in the mud like a pair of rowdy pigs? You had heard he had become arrogant, but this was pushing it.
You curtsied dramatically, your knees hitting the floor as he looked at you, seemingly bemused.
“I’m SO sorry, your grace. But I fear I am need elsewhere. So that would be a no.”
You smiled sweetly and dropped the daisy chain at his feet.
You didn’t bother to look back, but if you had you would have seen a prince rubbing his forehead in confusion with one hand and thumbing the delicate flowers in the other.
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
The second time Aegon attempted to impress you while hopefully communicating his desire to lay with you was a few weeks later. Aegon had been unable to get you out of his mind. As a prince, he was thoroughly unused to rejection and even more unused to having to work for what he wanted. He was training with his brother in the courtyard, or rather losing appallingly, when he saw you standing on the stone balcony overlooking the square.
He hadn’t been able to forget your smile, so sweet even when cutting him down to size. The way your eyes sparked as you dropped into that ridiculous curtsy. You reminded him of a time when he was more carefree, before the overwhelming responsibilities had twisted him into a man he barely knew.
Aemond, forever the opportunist, took this moment to swipe dirtily at him with his rapier. Aegon dodged to avoid the blade, but in doing so he failed to notice the butt of the sword smacking into his chest as he fell, face down in the mud.
When he came to, you were there, standing over him. At first he thought this was just another late-night fantasy. But this time you seemed to be laughing hysterically instead of moaning sweet nothings.
“W-what’s going on?” Aegon said as you pressed your hands into your stomach to stop the pain caused from laughing so hard.
“I’m sorry.” You gasped. “It seems you really did want to roll in the mud.”. Aegon grunted in confusion as she held out a hand to help him up. His pride and backside already bruised enough, he gracelessly accepted.
“So… Do you come watch me train often?” He preened, trying to smooth the dirt off his fine clothes.
“Well…no. I was on my way to the Maester’s to find your sister a new magnifying glass so as to examine her insects. But I saw you getting beaten so embarrassingly, I just had to stop.”
He blushed in shame.
“You deserve that you know. I’m not just some number to add to a tally on your bedroom wall. Did it ever occur to you that not everyone wants to sleep with you?”
“Don’t you?” He couldn’t help but try, grinning sheepishly.
You smiled, but it was more condescending this time and you patted his head. Staring at you again in utter confusion, he watched you walk off. The way your hips swung in that dress, the way your hair glinted in the sun, the way that you made him feel so ashamed. But also strangely aroused.
That night in his bath, Aegon attempted to rub you out of his mind while he rubbed furiously at well, his dick. But his release eluded him as he thought of how you teased him again and again. He was so close to the edge but his hand seemed pathetic compared to the soft pout of your lips. Groaning, he sank back down into the water. Now thoroughly cold and miserable.
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
The third time Aegon tried to impress you, it was at a tournament held in the honour of his younger brother‘s nameday. The entire royal household was assembled in a grassy meadow as you watched the men assemble their armour to go kill some great goose or moose or something so as to revel in their masculinity.
Bored, you joined Helaena where she sat cross legged on the earth, tracing the wings of an iridescent beetle in her palm. Aegon caught sight of you and waved. He actually waved.
Helaena squinted into the sunlight as she tried to figure out who was flapping their arms so furiously at you.
“Is that my brother?”
“Unfortunately.” You groaned, covering your face in exasperation as he refused to get the message.
“I know you’ve had an affection for him since we were small, you know. It seems he feels the same way.”. Gaping, you looked at your friend. She was extremely observant when it came to her bugs but often neglected to notice the small gestures between people you took for granted.
“Really.”. She said drily. “You are both quite obvious.”
“I know. But he’s just such a twat! I mean all the women, and the drinking and the preening and the posing! It’s so infuriating how he’s always swishing his hair and smiling!”.
“Yes.” Said Helaena bluntly. “You seem utterly uninterested.”
You groaned again as the man in question strode out to where you sat.
“My lady! I shall catch a fine beast in your honour and together we shall feast!” Aegon said with flourish. Without even giving you time to pick your jaw up the floor, he galloped off merrily.
“Well, whatever happens between the two of you, make him work for it.” Said Helaena as she turned back to her little ones, and you again struggled to find any words.
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
It was some time later, when you came across Aegon again. It was late in the evening, the hunting party had returned. But the prince had mysteriously not been with them.
You had been walking back to the tent in which you were sleep that night, “tent” being an understatement for the leather hides mounted on poles to cover you and sumptuous furs spread on the floor.
Aegon was sat on a tree stump. Pouting furiously as he kicked the stones under his feet. You approached him from behind, quietly so as to hear what he was grumbling about.
“Just wanted to catch a damn quail or something to impress her, and I couldn’t even shoot a squirrel!” He cursed to himself.
“You know those things really don’t impress me. Neither does inviting me to suck your cock in the gardens or falling on your face so frequently.”
He jumped out of his skin. “M-my lady! I didn’t hear you coming!”
You sat on the stump next to him, looking out at the sky. It was a cloudless night and the stars seemed to wink at you both, little pin pricks of light against the inky oblivion.
“How can I impress you then?” Aegon spoke quietly. “You don’t seem to act like most woman I know.”
“What because I don’t fall to the floor to suck your cock?”
“Well. Yes!”
“Have you ever tried even talking to me before? Just the two of us? About something other than yourself? We used to talk about everything, when we were younger.”
He sat quietly, contemplating your words. What you had said was true. He had acted like rather a prat to be honest. When you’re used to getting everything you want, the world seems a lot harder to understand as people tend to orbit around, instead of directly interact with you. And here you were, colliding with him.
“I’m sorry. I keep trying to be someone else but I’m not sure I know how.”
“You don’t have to be someone else.” You said softly. “I just want you.”
He looked at you, again throughly confused. “Even though I’m an absolute twat?”
“Especially because you’re a twat. And a pig, and a flirt and in insufferable idiot.” And with that you leant in and kissed him.
His eyes bugged open in confusion at the feeling of your lips against his. But you deepened the kiss as he tried to open his mouth.
“Please.” You smiled. “Don’t talk.”
“Now that I can do.” He grinned and returned the kiss as he grasped your waist and pressed his body against yours.
The kiss continued for what felt like an age, but like it could never be enough. His tongue was soft and questioning at first, while yours was passionate and hard. His hands remained frozen at his side as you broke apart and smiled at him. You placed his baking hands on your breasts as you undid your corset and stays.
“I want you to feel me.” He gulped nervously but seemed to find some resolve and went back to kissing and nipping at your breasts intensely. How was it that he had slept with so many women and had no idea what to do around this one. His cock was hard and aching in his trousers, but his mind could not be less focused on his own release.
He slowly sank to his knees in front of the stump, kissing up your calves as he stopped above your knee and looked at you questioningly. You smiled reassuringly and nodded, before he started licking at your inner thigh and you were unable to do anything but moan uncontrollably.
Aegon slowly kissed around the edge of your underwear, mouthing at your soaking core before tearing off the undergarment and tossing it to the soft earth beneath him.
He ate you out like a man starved, like he couldn’t get enough of how you tasted. Sucking your clit into his mouth he looked up at you as you shook and writhed. You cracked open an eye and looked at him.
“Why did you stop?” You gasped out as your heart hammered in your chest.
“I just wanted to make sure this is what you wanted.”
“Aegon, you idiot. I’ve loved you ever since we were ten years old and you pulled my braids.”
“If I remember correctly, you then pushed me down onto the dirt and then made me eat a mud pie.”
“Well” You said. “I’d be happy to make it up to you.” You reached to unfasten his trousers but he put his hand out and stopped you. His hand squeezed yours as he looked into your eyes. “Let me. I have all I want right here.”.
You nodded as he immediately went back to licking at your core. You gasped as he nipped your clit slightly and then again when he breached your entrance with a gentle but firm finger. The pressure of three fingers inside of you, stroking your walls, combined with his unrelenting attentions on your clit made you cry out as you felt a strange feeling deep inside you.
It felt like a dam breaking after a flood, like everything between you had been washed away as your release trickled out of you and onto his shirt.
Coming out of your high, you realised he was still fully clothed and surely his back hurt from crouching over for so long. You opened your mouth as if to apologise, when suddenly his lips stopped you.
You tasted your cum in his mouth and the sweet bitten-raw lips that you had bruised earlier. Looking into your eyes, he smiled.
“C-can I?” You said and he looked to the ground sheepishly.
“Ah… I’m good. You suddenly noticed the wet spot on his trousers and remembered how he had rocked himself against your leg like a bitch in heat.
You smiled and pulled him into your lap. Kissing him sweetly, you felt something fall out of his pocket and onto the forest floor. In the moonlight you could see it was a dried daisy chain.
“How did I get this lucky? ” You mused and he placed a finger over your mouth; “I want to spend the rest of my life asking you that question myself. If you’ll let me.” He finished nervously and you knew in that moment that you were home. Not at the Red Keep, not in Highgarden but here with your prince wrapped up in your arms.
A/N: part two is up and down below!!
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zoro & sanji finding out you have a voice kink.
cw: nsfw!! female reader, voice kink, vaginal fingering, penetration (penis in vegina), choking, doggy style
zoro is oblivious to it in the beginning. he doesn’t understand why you get so damn flustered every time he barks out an order or tells you what to do. he ignores it, assuming you’re just messing around or playing some stupid game he’s unaware of, until one day he gets fed up and bluntly asks “what the hell are you getting so worked up about?” when you finally confess, he lets out a deep chuckle in that low, gravelly voice of his, causing goosebumps to line your back and shoulders. “is that all?” he teases, understanding a bit better now that he knows it’s some kind of perverted kink of yours. he walks towards you, pins you against the wall with one hand beside your head. his steely eyes meet yours, his lips curl up into a cocky smirk. “maybe i should boss you around more often,” he says, taking your chin in hand, pulling it up so you're forced to look him in the eye. he kisses you, his hands roaming your hips and thighs before hiking up your skirt. after yanking down your panties, he shoves his cock inside you, grunting loudly with each thrust into your tight little pussy. you get wetter and wetter as you hear his groans of pleasure and quick, shallow breathing, then moan louder when he commands you to change positions. “turn around”, he growls in your ear while flipping you onto your stomach. “lay down”, he orders before grabbing your ankles, resting them on his shoulders. “stay still”, he demands as his hand wraps around your throat. you'll do whatever he says, as long as you can keep listening to that sexy voice of his.
sanji is an observant man. having plenty of experience with ladies, he can tell when his words and actions touch a woman in just the right way. he notices how your breath hitches when he kisses the back of your hand and calls you “ma chérie”. he pays attention to the way you pause after he sweet talks you, observing how he caught you off guard with just a few simple words. little subtleties that betray you. after a while, he realizes you react the strongest when he speaks in french. his little nicknames, his playful teasing, and his declarations of love suddenly become more powerful in his native tongue. one day after you ask him a question, he responds in french, letting his velvety words roll off his tongue, causing your heart to flutter and your breath to get caught in your chest. when you don't answer, he presses his lips against your neck, kissing the tender skin while whispering “l’amour de ma vie”, “ma cœur”, “ma raison d’être” into your ear until shivers ripple through your body. his hand sneaks up your thighs, then slips under your panties. he smirks when he feels how wet you are, slides his fingers into your pussy, pumps them in and out while you moan and whimper. he's just as vocal when he pushes his cock inside you, his poetic words of affection caressing your ears as he groans with every stroke. still speaking in the language of love, he describes all the dirty things he’s going to do to you now that he knows your weakness. you understand what he means, whether you speak french or not.
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Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (6)
Summary: Your marriage starts rocky.
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader
Warnings: shy reader, fluff, protective/possessive Sherlock, smut, unprotected sex, angst, Mrs. Demeter being the worst as always
A/N: A collection of drabbles on how you became Mrs. Sherlock Holmes.
Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (5)
Mrs. Sherlock Holmes masterlist
Both of you couldn’t get enough of each other. After he plugged your flower, Sherlock didn’t hold back. Wherever and whenever he got his hands on you, he made you scream, beg, and even cry in pleasure.
“Louder, wife,” he growled with every deep thrust. “I want them all to hear how good your husband makes you feel.”
Most of your days, you spent like this, filled with your husband’s thick cock. Sherlock is a man possessed when it comes to you. The moment he steps into your home, he’s all over you.
“Sherlock,” you whimpered his name. It was the second time today that he had you underneath him, pinned to the mattress by his large, and heavy body. “Husband.”
He nodded against your neck before his teeth left another mark. A sign that he claimed not only your hand in marriage but your body too. “I know, my love. Let go. Scream my name.”
“Years spent with worry and work only for him to chase me away like a thief. I didn’t get the chance to pack my things before she hit me with a broom. I bet; Master Holmes would’ve never let me go if only he knew the truth about the succubus he calls his wife.”
You pressed one hand to your mouth, choking out a sob. Not only did Mrs. Demeter make your life a living hell while she was still around, but she also feds lies to the people in town.
How dare her? You have been nothing but kind to her. She was the one lying to your husband and acting out.
“I’ll set her straight,” Enola grunted. She wanted to storm toward Mrs. Demeter and the other women, but you held her back and shook your head. “Y/N, let me go! She lied! We know that she lied!”
“Still, these women won’t believe me. She’s a vicious person and only lies come out of your mouth. We both know better than to step into her trap. She saw us at the bakery. Mrs. Demeter wants us to act out. We are ladies and will behave in public.”
“We can’t let her get away with this,” Enola wiggled in your hold. “Please let me explain things to the women.”
“No,” you sternly said. “I will tell my husband about it. Sherlock will not tolerate such behavior from a former peasant. I know you mean well, but sometimes even you must hold back. Sherlock doesn’t need the wrong kind of attention while solving a case. Please, for once, listen to someone else.”
Enola stared Mrs. Demeter down. She curled her upper lip but didn’t do anything drawing attention toward you. “Fine, I’ll do it for you. If I ever hear a lie about you again, I won’t make any promises.”
“What is it, my love?” Sherlock worriedly watched you lie on the bed, curled into a ball. You sniffled and hid your face in the palms of your hands. “Y/N, wife. I need you to tell me what happened. I cannot help you if you keep me in the dark.”
“She—and then,” you cried, still shaken from what happened in town and when you came back home. “She won’t leave me alone.”
“Who?” Your husband stepped toward the bed to sit next to you. Sherlock ran his hand over your shoulder, gently touching you. “My love, please talk to me. Who made you cry? This morning, you smiled, and now, you’re crying your eyes out.”
“Mrs. Demeter,” you choked on your tears. “I saw her in town. She spread lies about me. Mrs. Demeter said that I lied to you and that I was the reason.”
“Y/N, my love,” he murmured your name and kissed your temple. “I want you to tell me everything. I need to hear every detail. Please don’t hide from me again.”
You gathered all your strength and slowly sat up to hand Sherlock the letter you found on the doorsteps of your home and another piece of paper.
Enola insisted on writing down every word and handed it to you. She even noted the names of the women Mrs. Demeter was talking to.
While he stared at the pieces of paper in his hands, you told him everything that Mrs. Demeter said to the other women.
Sherlock hastily read the lines, his features darkening with every word.
“My love,” he softly spoke to you. “This woman will never bother you again. I’ll make sure of it.” Your husband sighed deeply and shook his head. “I was too lenient with her. Even after she lied to me, I made sure that she’d get a new position.”
Eyes filled with fresh tears you looked at Sherlock. “Why can’t she leave me alone? I did nothing wrong. All I wanted was to love you.”
“I love you too, my love.” He cupped your face to kiss you softly. “Enola will stay another night and keep you company today. I’ll make sure Mrs. Demeter knows her place.”
“Lord Taddleton, it’s time for your tea—” Mrs. Demeter blanched watching Sherlock talk to her new master. Both men watched her step inside the room, a tray in her hands. She whimpered and dropped the tray the moment Lord Taddleton dismissively flicked his wrist.
“Mrs. Demeter,” Lord Taddleton sternly said. “I heard from Mr. Holmes that you are spreading rumors about his lovely wife. Not only did you lie about her, but you also threatened her most viciously. You are dismissed, and I will make sure you’ll not find a new employer in this town.”
“Lord Taddleton, it’s all a misunderstanding,” she begged and pleaded. Mrs. Demeter believed she could get revenge on you and not pay for her lies. “Please believe me!”
“You think I’ll believe a peasant over Sherlock Holmes?” Lord Taddleton sneered. He was a strict master, not soft and understanding like Sherlock. He treated Mrs. Demeter like a peasant from the beginning. “You will leave my house within the next hour.”
Watching your husband walk inside the library, you held your breath. You didn’t know where he went, but you assumed it had something to do with Mrs. Demeter.
“She will never bother you again, Y/N,” he said, and sat down next to you on the chaise lounge. “Please don’t pull away from me. I had nothing to do with the rumors she spread. The letter, it was all lies. I’d never betray you like this, my love.”
You sniffled and threw yourself at Sherlock to hide your face in his chest. “I’d never think so low about you, husband. She wanted to hurt me…I know this now.”
Sherlock closed his eyes and tried to forget what he read some hours ago. Mrs. Demeter dared to accuse him of being unfaithful when all he did was love and adore you from afar.
THE END
Tags in reblog.
#sherlock holmes#sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock holmes x wife!reader#sherlock holmes x you#sherlock holmes x y/n#Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (6)
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Spa Day ~ Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader
Content: You and Miguel go to the spa, mainly fluff, gets smutty towards the end, "wife" and "girl" are used, thigh grinding, masturbation, perhaps a hint of a praise kink, MINORS DNI!!
A/N: Had an idea to do a cute spa day with Mig. Enjoy!
“Welcome to the Sunny Side Spa! Are you checking in?”
The receptionist asked, smiling wide as you and Miguel walked inside. You were too busy taking in the peaceful atmosphere to respond. Admiring the soft bright lighting, harpsichord music, and divulging in the lavender aroma.
Miguel stepped in, “Yes. For the deluxe package?”
“Wonderful! Right this way!” You took your husband's hand, following the cheery woman down a hall and to the right, where the showers and locker rooms were. “Please wash up and put on our robes so we can start your ultimate spa experience!”
Your heart sped up in excitement, trying to contain it as you and Miguel went your separate ways in the locker rooms. Sunny Side Spa was a new spa that opened up on Earth-438, being highly recommended by some of the spiders in Spider Society. Ben mainly as he raved about his experience. Saying he suggested it to a few others too because it was that good. Jess came to you a few days later about the same spa and then so did Peter the day after. All boasting about their experiences, wanting you and Miguel to go too.
They mentioned how difficult it was pushing Miguel to go out and try new experiences. Especially after his major role in forming the elite spidey team. But once he started dating you, he was open to branching himself out. Even more so after marriage.
So when you brought up the spa trip with him, he was interested. He didn’t think he'd even been to the spa before when he couldn’t remember the last time he's had a massage or a facial. You weren't sure yourself. Hence why it was clear you two had to get in some relaxation time.
The cream-colored robe you put on felt like cotton. It was warm and soft to the touch with notes of eucalyptus hitting your nostrils.
Miguel was waiting for you, leaning against the wall while listening to the receptionist rave about the deluxe package. You didn't catch much of it, only hearing a little bit about a deep tissue massage.
“Ah you too look adorable!” She complimented before motioning you all to the massage room. The lady repeated what she told Miguel about everything that's in the deluxe package. A deep tissue massage, followed by a manicure, pedicure and a facial. While you all were fed complementary food and drinks. And as an added bonus, a private sauna room you can go to at the end of the wellness visit.
The lady handed you a pamphlet of the details in case you forget as she left you two in the room to wait for your masseuse. Your eyes caught the option to do hot stones in the massage to maximize muscle relaxation.
“Maybe you should pick this one.” You pointed out.
Miguel glanced over your shoulder, letting out a playful huff. “What are you trying to say?”
“Nothing…” You teased, “My man works hard. Just want to make sure we're making the most out of our stay.”
He hummed, kissing the side of your head. “I appreciate the thought, baby.”
The massages you received were out of this world.
Once meeting with your personal masseuse, you lied face down, uncovering your robe for easy access. The masseuses' hands roaming every inch of your bare back. Rubbing spots along your muscles that you didn’t even know were tense. All of the tension built up inside faded away once the soft fingers of your personal masseuse melted it away.
You couldn’t help but groan loudly at the feeling, hearing your masseuse laugh. “Feel good, yeah?”
“Oh yeah.”
Miguel was enjoying his massage as his groans resonated in the room. While he occasionally instructed his own masseuse where they should rub the most. Any semblance of worry that your husband wasn’t going to enjoy the experience were gone.
Hints of jasmine from the essential oils lingered as hot stones pressed along your back. Not hot enough to burn your skin but to soothe your body. The personal masseuses left the room, wanting you two to lie on the cot for a little to fully relax.
“Cariño?” You hummed in response, “I might fall asleep.”
You giggled as you could tell by his low tone. “Fall asleep, baby.” You weren't too far yourself, body desperate to doze off in pure bliss. Miguel’s soft snores weren’t helping either as it blended well with the gentle music that was playing.
After you and Miguel got some shut eye for a few minutes, your masseuse woke you up for the mani/pedi. You took the lead as Miguel trailed behind, walking a tad slower to get adjusted from his nap. The section of getting the hand and foot massages was in a large area outside. A closed off section that was decorated with tons of food at your disposal. Fruit, veggies and mini sandwiches with a variety of alcoholic and non alcoholic drinks.
You quickly snatched up a grape as you sat back in your reclining chair, grabbing a drink of water while waiting on the nail artists to arrive. There was an option of getting your nails painted too, which Miguel willingly said yes to your surprise.
“Ooh can I pick your color?” You asked as they handed you a palette of nail colors to choose from.
“Go crazy.” Miguel said, not paying you any mind as he messed with his chair that had a massage function built in.
You decided to pick black for him, the glittery kind that shined in the light. You opted for a dark blue, like his suit, also sporting a shimmery shine.
The techs were really thorough while doing your hands and feet. Placing them in a tub of warm water, scrubbing away the excess skin. Trimming your nails and toes to a decent length. You watched them rub oil across your arms and legs too before they effortlessly painted your nails and toes. You glanced over to see how Miguel’s looked. He wiggled one of his hands to show it off. Black fit well on him.
Your face was soon covered with a mixture of ingredients you couldn't recognize. The green concoction had a clay-like texture, but it was cool against your skin. You watched the spa workers carry a bowl of cucumbers to finish off the facial. And you couldn't help but get excited when they said you could eat the veggies once the facial was finished, earning a laugh from your husband.
“Can I eat yours too?”
“Sure, mi amor.”
They allowed you two to relax in your chairs for a bit. The soothing sensation of the mask really helping. Your nail techs also recommend waiting to touch anything for a bit while your nails dried, making sure their hard work didn't go to waste. That didn't stop Miguel from inching over to nudge your hand with his pinkie.
“Hm?” You said, completely in the zone of your relaxation.
“You look adorable right now.” Miguel chuckled.
You held back in removing a cucumber from your eye, “Put your cucumbers back on.”
“I will. Just let me look at you.”
“You've seen me before.”
“Not with green stuff all over your face.”
You removed one of your cucumbers, opening your eye and immediately snorting at Miguel’s green covered face. “You look adorable too.”
He gave another affectionate nudge before following your command by putting on his cucumbers.
After the delightful facials, you two made your way down to the saunas. You could feel your face glowing from the extra care. Both of you had to change again into some towels, having a similar texture and color to the robes you wore.
You and Miguel had 30 minutes inside before the staff checked on you. And you felt like you were in heaven as you leaned against Miguel. A warmth radiating throughout the room that relaxed your muscles and your mind. His arm draped behind you, leaning back against the bench, legs spread a little wide. You could tell he was enjoying it as he leaned his head back, taking it in.
Something in you honed on his neck, a slight sheen coating his brown skin. His adam's apple bobbing slowly. You swallowed hard at the hair on his chest, following it down to his happy trail and unable to see the prize under his towel.
“We should come here more often.” His voice caused you to jump, not expecting him to say anything.
“Oh yeah, we should.”
Miguel sat up, red eyes landing on you with a grin, “I know you liked the massages.”
“Of course I did.” You shrugged, “So did you, right?”
He nodded, “I did. But I know you really enjoyed them.” Miguel sat up a little and inadvertently spread his legs wider, “I heard your cute little noises.”
You huffed, trying not to get affected by what he was saying. “It wasn't intentional, it just felt good.”
“I know, nena. I'm teasing.” His hand rested on your side. It felt extra hot for some reason. “Sit on my lap.”
You eyed him suspiciously, “Why?”
“Because I want you to.” He said, sounding innocent.
“We can’t have sex in here, Miguel.”
Your husband bit his lip to hide his amusement, “Who said we were having sex? Your mind is awfully dirty.” You shot a glare towards him. He completely ignored it before patting his thigh for you. Somehow you found yourself on it, hands on his chest for support.
“I'm serious.” You warned before he captured your lips. It was gentle yet passionate. His hand placed on your back to keep you there while your tongues danced with each other. You wanted more when you parted, wanting to lean back in but you stopped yourself.
“We can’t…”
“We're not having sex.” Miguel reiterated as his hand moved to slowly unravel your towel. You didn’t protest, as a glimpse of your breast poked through, your towel loose enough to ride up to your hips. “Grind on my thigh.”
Your hips moved on command, your cunt rubbing against his covered thigh. The plush towel not irritating you at all but the complete opposite as you lowly gasped. Miguel’s hand took its rightful place on your back for stability. His eyes honed on how you were grinding against him.
“Good girl.”
Your eyes flickered to his hard cock coming out from his towel. Standing tall and proud due to your actions. You wanted to touch it, but he beat you to it as he lifted you up gently, plunging two fingers inside you. You whimpered at how embarrassingly wet you were before watching him use your arousal on his cock.
His eyes never left your body as yours watched him stroke his cock. His thumb running along the tip to collect pre cum before using it for additional lubrication. A quiet squishy sound was heard through the hum from the sauna. But you kept going, eyes fluttering shut to focus on what you were doing.
“Eyes on me.” He commanded.
You gazed at him, your stomach twisting as he was still watching you. Intense eyes filled with pleasure. Your hips faltered when he unraveled more of your towel from your body. It was dangling from your form, barely hanging on. But this way he was able to see your breasts move from the hip movement. And your covered sex rub along the fabric.
“Fuck…” He swore, picking up the pace of his strokes. “How did I get so lucky?”
“Miguel…” You moaned, your clit hitting a perfect spot amidst your lazy grinding. That caused you to arch your back and pick up the pace. Miguel’s other hand is still on you, gripping a bit tighter.
“I should fuck you right here.” He grunted, spreading his legs even wider to get a good angle. “But I listen to my wife.”
“Sometimes.” You muttered, enough for him to let out a breathy chuckle. Your thighs started to ache as your cunt pulsed while you felt yourself getting closer. You wanted to shut your eyes and chase it but it was more addicting to look at Miguel’s steely focus on you.
“Wait for me.” He sighed, voice starting to get hoarse. You slowed down for him to catch up. Which didn’t take too long as his rough hand gripped your ass, the cue for you to go. So you kept grinding. Your back arching more and allowing the towel to slip completely off. That earned a groan of approval from your husband, his face turned from the undeniable pleasure.
“Baby I need you to come. We don't have much time.”
“I-I know.” You struggled, whining as you were nearing your peak. You had to ignore Miguel’s demand this time by shutting your eyes to focus on that feeling. Your body exploded, pleasure shooting all over you. Thighs squeezing against his while you quietly cried for him. Any other time he wouldn't like how quiet you were but he didn’t complain.
Miguel wasn’t far behind as cum shot out, staining his abdomen. His death grip from your ass gently released as he heaved. You rested against his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow back down to his original pace.
You and your husband were practically glowing after getting out of the sauna. The two of you changed back into your clothes before making your way to the front of the establishment.
The receptionist waved to you and Miguel as he made the payment, “Did you two enjoy yourselves?”
“We definitely did.” He glanced at you with satisfaction while you held in a grin.
“Awesome!” She handed him the receipt before waving you two goodbye. “Thank you for coming to the Sunny Side Spa! Have a good day!”
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o hara x reader#miguel x reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara smut#slushycoookie writes
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spice sex; marriage; fluff lowkey & PAUL ATREIDES happy kinktober! MDNI 18+
Paul should have known.
When the quiet servant offered to have the chefs make something special from Fremen culture to celebrate your wedding, he should have assumed that spice would be included. But the euphoria from the entire event clouded his judgment, making him forget where he was, especially when he stared in your eyes. He should have remembered when he took the first bite, fed from your hand while he fed you. He should have remembered when the sweet cinnamon flavor hit the tip of his tongue and then traveled all the way down the gullet. At the very least, his suspicions should have been raised when the servant stressed that the cakes were only intended for the bride and groom, and not for any of the esteemed guests, especially if they were unwed. He should have considered just how powerful the substance could be for him, let alone you.
But Paul was so happy to have finally married you that he didn't consider anything until the negative effects were worn off and pushed out of his mind to make room for the elation and desire.
Until he had led you to his chambers—your chambers now—in a fit of mutually shared giggles and stumbling over your feet. Your shoes were gone now, your hair was slightly undone, and you were glowing. You looked so beautiful, bathed in colors of the Atreides family with the tan from Arrakis along your shoulders and cheekbones.
Paul wanted to take his time with you. He wanted to go slow and unravel you just how he had dreamt . He wanted to take you in ways deserving of newlyweds, but instead he finds himself rushing.
His kisses are heavier and hotter than they were before marrying you, when you were just his fiancée and the innocent young lady of the house. You are still just that, the youngest lady of the house, but the title of his wife and the wedding band on your finger makes you look different in Paul's eyes. You're laying back on his silk sheets, your legs exposed since Paul's wandering hands have lifted your dress to sit around your waist, and you look sinful.
Maybe it's the spice flowing throughout his bloodstream, but Paul truly thinks you're glowing right now. He rubs at his eyes with the backs of his hands, but the image stays.
"My pretty wife," he whispers. Is his scratchy voice a product of spice or arousal?
You grin up at him and Paul feels like he's staring straight into the sun.
"My pretty husband."
That's all it takes for Paul to lift your skirts and present himself with your white panties.
Paul knows he got incredibly lucky. This marriage is one of pure luck, a stellar combination between true want, desire, and political power. Your houses will only be stronger, as will the two of you. This union works out in everyone’s favor, and Paul doesn’t just think that because he is finally allowed to have the one thing he has wanted most for the past few months.
He’s so focused, so determined to have what he pleases, and he gets it. His tongue glides through your folds, the tip flicking when he gets to the top. There is no method, no secret trick that he has learned from word to mouth. He has heard stories from Duncan’s men, sat with wide eyes and open ears as they detailed their encounters on planets that would never be fit for a noble young man such as Paul, but that didn’t stop his curiosity. Even when he begged them for details, practically pleading for advice on what he should do to make a woman scream out of pleasure instead of fright, they would never grace his ears with such detailing. They were afraid of what would happen to them if someone found out. Duncan just would not give Paul the pleasure.
But that didn’t stop Paul’s mind from wandering. For a while, there was never a face to the body. He would lay at night, slipping between the sleeping and waking world without much control over either, as images of a woman brushed through his mind in a gentle breeze. Her legs parted, her back arched, her head thrown back. Paul imagined what he would do in excruciating detail, running scenarios in his head as best as he could. There was no information to pull from, no simulations or training that could have prepared him for this moment.
He hopes he is not as horrible at this as he fears he may be.
Paul digs his fingertips into your thighs. His touch feels light, like he isn’t as close to you as he could possibly be, so he presses and presses. He pushes his face further into your flower until he’s breathing your essence. He’s so hot, burning up from the inside out, but he does not know in what other way he could possibly cool himself down.
Quelling the heat prickling against his skin is not even the first or second thought on his mind. All he can truly focus on is pleasing you. Making you feel just as good as the women in the stories he heard. Finally living out the dreams that played behind his eyelids in the middle of the night, the ones where he would wake up with his pants sticking to him, leaving him to waddle off to the bathroom and clean himself up before a servant came to wake him.
This is a literal fantasy, and Paul briefly worries he’s hallucinating. But then your legs squeeze around his head, your thighs smooshed against his ears, and your fingernails scratch against his scalp. Everything feels real, down to the burning in his lungs as his body pleads for air.
This is real. You are here.
Paul tries his best to show his appreciation, but his limbs are heavy. There’s a weight to everything about him. His tongue is heavy as it dips between your petals and plunges into your entrance. His body is heavy as it sinks into the plush mattress beneath both of you. His head is heavy as he attempts to keep it afloat, but eventually he succumbs to the weight as his forehead rests against the trimmed garden decorating your mound.
He feels odd, different from the other times Spice has affected him. He is dazed, seeing through a dizzying alteration of vignettes and bursts of golden light. He sees you through it all, laying on the bed before him, walking in the sand of Arrakis, wading through the water of Caladan. You look so blissful, grinning, waving, throwing your head back with moans.
Your belly is round and full. You hold a figure against your chest. You are placing your hand between your legs and lifting soaked white cloths until it gathers beneath your breasts.
“Paul!” You’re shrieking and Paul had not realized it, but there is a renewed vigor to him. He has your lower half lifted off of the bed, his body bent over your cunt as he absolutely devours you. He is being greedy, eating in a way that would have had him scolded by those who raised him. But no one's here to see this sight that only he will ever get to see. No one is here to reprimand him as he takes and takes. You certainly will not, because the more he takes, the more he is giving you. The hungrier he is, the better you feel.
Paul raises his eyes and this time, he only sees you. Laying back against the bed, teary eyes holding his gaze. He balances you in one hand and lifts the other to swipe at your eyes, gathering the tears and forcing them right back into your mouth. You suck without having to be told to, and you are like that when you finally orgasm.
Your lips release from Paul’s thumb and your mouth sits open as you work through your orgasm. Paul’s thumb hangs loosely off of the side of your mouth as he glides his tongue against you, cleaning up the final bits of the sweetest water Paul will ever taste.
Luckily, you are his now in the same ways that he is yours, and Stars willing, he’ll be permitted to drink from you until the end of time.
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Omg how about office siren reader and Miguel how she would be 😖🤭😝
Ohhh! Office Siren Miguel and an Office Siren Reader would be very different. Let me think......
While Office Siren Miguel would 100% dress himself up to get Reader's attention, Office Siren Reader would care less if Miguel looked at her:
Miguel is cocky, loud, and annoying, yet he gets things done. His department respects him and no one would dare to question his work ethic. Reader, on the other hand, comes to work and minds her business. You won't get that close to her because she's a bit strict.
Crisp pencil skirts, dark stockings, and slicked-back hair are more her speed. However, her shoes are always nice and expensive. Even with the simplest of outfits, she stands out, glasses giving her face a sharp look. Miguel is more about bright ties and lightly-colored suits with cute socks that his niece chose for him.
Sometimes the two of you come to disagreements. Your department does things a certain way and his department definitely does things...a way! It leads to verbal sparring matches.
Miguel thinks Reader is stuck up and too by-the-book until he sees her at a club dancing on some random guy. It shifts his entire world. The pretty, stoned-face lady who he could barely get a word from outside of company-related topics was practically fucking on the dance floor. You were placing his hands under your clothes and opening your neck up for him to kiss. It made Miguel feel....strange.
With newfound knowledge, Miguel ups his bickering ante. To him, he's just teasing, but to you, he's becoming a bigger pain in your ass. One day after everyone's gone home, you're both working overtime to fix some edits. Miguel is complaining about how your team used an ugly font and for some reason, this is the final straw for you. You get in his face, irritated and fed up. He's shocked but the way your eyebrows are scrunching and your mouth is curling makes him think of you under neon lights. You smell like champagne and the gloss on your lips is inviting. Maybe he should continue to upset you more?
Can you tell I got my inspo from Perfect Buddy.....
#to the lab testers 🩻#love lab drabbles 💊#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#miguel o’hara#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o’hara imagine
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Premium Service [l.jn]
wc: 3.8k || mentions of jaemin, smut
synopsis: “did you hire me to clean or to fuck?”
quitting a job is easy, but getting another is not. especially in the area that you lived in, jobs are hard to find, perhaps impossible.
“this is ridiculous, it says here that you are actively looking for someone!” you yelled into the phone, already angry with the lady on the other line.
“i apologize miss, but we really try to make this work as much as possible—“ click. you hung up. you’re fed up, exhausted even. you turned off your phone before entering your car. maybe a car ride can calm you down.
the number of hours you’ve put into job applications isn’t even comparable to the hours you’ve worked at your office job, days turn into weeks, hell, weeks turn into months and you’re running out of patience. the work is tiring, money is getting short by the minute. you’re thinking about going back to your sloppy old job.
seeing your mail app full of rejection letters every morning made your blood boil, but mostly made you rot in your apartment with the feeling of never being able to find anything, until—
Jaem: hey check this out, they’re looking for housekeepers in the area
you picked up your phone, read the message before typing a reply, sighing for what seemed like the hundredth time this week.
do i look like a maid to you jaemin?
Jaem: i’m just trying to help you out lil sis, plus, it seems like a well paid job, you should think about it
you placed your phone down, staring at your ceiling for a few minutes, you thought about it. while this seemed like some work for old retired ladies, you took some kind of interest in it. so, after a bit, you replied back to your brother.
fine
Jaem: cool! here’s his address, he’s doing interviews tomorrow at noon.
———-
the place looked like a movie set, chandeliers were illuminating the entire hallway with golden statues sitting near the front desk. this was nothing but an apartment building but still— you were obviously in the richer part of the city, so you were prepared to see some spoiled, pretentious and overall disgustingly rich man waiting for you in the lobby.
“hi miss, what can i do for you?” you jumped and turned to the receptionist, nervously biting your bottom lip.
“well, i’m here for an interview, but i think i’m at the wrong place.” you trailed off, looking at the bright red couches near the elevators.
she smiled at you. “i assure you you’re at the right place. it’s for the cleaning services right?” you nodded, tapping your fingers on the marble desk. “great! mr. lee is waiting for you, he’s on the 7th floor, first door to your left. you can’t really miss it, his name is on the door.”
“right— thanks.” she gave you a thumbs up before returning her eyes to the screen sitting in front of her.
going towards the elevator, you repeat to yourself the directions the receptionist told you, waiting for the elevator doors to open. pressing the digit, you wait for the ding, walk a few steps before you find yourself at the door, his door. very nervous, you knock on his door, shaking, a few times before feeling your purse buzzing.
Jaem: good luck lil sis! make some money for me
you rolled your eyes at the text before putting your phone back into the bag. just as you were about to knock again, you heard the door open, your feet ready to turn and run away, mentally scolding yourself for agreeing to take this stupid interview.
however, your thoughts came to a stop once the door opened.
“there you are, thought you wasn’t comin’.” the man said, giving you a slight smile.
“we were waiting for you before i could start.” you shook your head, confused.
“we?”
he chuckles, “yes, we. you thought you were alone?—” you nodded. “many people want this job you know, i’m surprised you even showed up, considering you’re the only one who’s around my age here.” he was a little arrogant, just like you thought about earlier while entering the building, but you couldn’t stop staring at him, he was handsome, smelled nice but your attention was caught when he spoke, voice deep and soft.
what have you gotten yourself into?
————
the apartment looked wonderful, big ceiling to floor windows showed the busy city below, the imported carpets were gorgeous, touches of red, yellow and green gave the living room more color, assorted with decorative pillows on the couches you were currently sitting on. the kitchen was a little dull with grey marble countertops and black cupboards, but the large plants made up for it.
you were sitting next to three other ladies, definitely older than you, one of them eyeing you weirdly made you lose your patience. “what are you looking at?” you spat. you knew this job was for those old ladies that are past retirement, but you didn’t think they’d be so rude. “sorry sweetheart, for a young girl like you, we’re wondering why you’re here i mean— she laughed. “why don’t you find a job that meets your criteria?— you’re probably just here to have sex with this man right?” her and the other two ladies grinned at you.
your eye was twitching and shooting daggers at the women in front of you. just as you got up to leave, a voice made your movements come to a stop.
“ladies, ladies. why don’t we all get along? after all, this is a cleaning job right?” mr. lee spoke. his eyes turning into crescents, “we shouldn’t be so heated over cleaning hm?” his kind expression made you come back to your senses, eyes kind and welcoming. and so, you decided to sit back down on the couch, keeping a small distance from the close-to-casket women.
after an hour and a half, the interview came to its end. thinking you’re surely not getting taken— i mean, you’re young and he’s probably picking women with ‘maid material’, you placed your jacket over your arm, getting ready to exit the apartment, while hearing the women talk besides you. “we would invite you to lunch with us but, we know you’ll have to look for something else, so we’ll leave you to that. good luck though!” you rolled your eyes.
after the ladies left, you scrolled through your phone while looking for your older brother’s contact, getting ready to leave the building when a hand touched your shoulder. “how does monday sound to you?” you hear a voice whispering to your ear. you froze, clearly you’re hearing things right? you turned around to check, it was mr. lee.
“huh? what about the other women?” your body was still frozen. his touch felt warm, so warm. you’ve never felt the heat rise up to your ears this fast before, the man was only touching your shoulder, but his hand was burning your body.
his hand slid down your lower back before he spoke up. “i don’t want rude old bitches cleaning my place while i’m gone, the last one kept misplacing my things.” you looked up at him, pushing his hand off your back.
“i’ll think about it.” you tell him, ready to go home more than ever at this point.
“you know where to find me.” he says, giving you a wink before returning inside.
————-
you eventually picked up the job, and mr. lee even invited you to stay at his place since he had an empty room, free of charge, so you could sleep at his place a few times a week. he assured you that you could call him by his name, jeno, and not mr.lee as it felt too formal for him— you declined as you wanted to stay polite.
the past few weeks have been nothing but normal, the job was quite simple and you had a list of things that you needed to do while jeno was gone. only then, his one and only rule was given to you before you could start— and it was to never enter his bedroom, even if you wanted to wash his bedsheets.
———
“what about the bed? how will i wash them?”
“don’t worry about it. i’ll put the sheets in the laundry basket”
“okay… is there any reason i’m forbidden?”
he smiled, taking a last sip of whiskey before placing the glass down in the sink, indicating that you had to clean it.
“privacy reasons.”
———
it made sense, but still felt awkward as you usually kept the door wide open at night while sleeping. (maybe you should close it more often.)
quite a simple rule really, but you still find it quite odd, questioning how you’ll make his bed after cleaning. without thinking much about it, you tossed your bag in the guest room (now yours) before getting to work.
you started to find jeno a little odd, he’d sometimes come home irritated, locking himself in his room until you’d knock on his door to tell him that your work was done for the day. there was a lot of tension between you two, you’d find him quite intimidating at times, especially when you’d catch him staring at your ass a few times, heat rushing to your cheeks.
now, you weren’t the type to let anyone look at you that way, but with jeno you felt different— ever since he gave you your ‘work uniform’, —which was honestly just lingerie and frankly too revealing for you—, something switched inside him that day.
————
first, it started with cleaning the bathroom floor tiles, usually you’d use a mop, but he insisted that cleaning with a rag, soap and some water would be better. without questioning him, you got to work. his plan was working, it was easy to break your unbothered attitude, you were innocently obeying him to whatever task he demanded. he knew you’d caught him staring a few times, swatting his hand away from your chest or ass whenever you cleaned his apartment.
slowly but surely, he was going to make you his little toy to play with.
he watched you clean on all fours, tiny skirt lifting up every now and then, showing your white lacy underwear. jeno groaned and got up, walking towards you before hovering above you, his hand caressing your ass before ghosting his middle and ring finger over your panties—over the place you’ve secretly wanted him the most these past days.
you jumped, looked back up at him, confused. but before you could speak, you felt his fingers pinching your clit through your underwear, earning him a small gasp.
“how come you’re this wet? you like walking around me dressed like a slut is that it?” you couldn’t bring yourself to realize what was happening. trying to get up from your position, you argued. “what? you gave me this stupid uniform- hey!”
“where do you think you’re going?” he asked. you suddenly felt dizzy, his warm fingers were burning on your skin, in contrast to his cold rings. “i never thought you’d be….” he trails off, both hands grabbing your ass, making you squirm under his touch, falling back onto your cleaning position. “…such a slut,” your body was on fire, panties were sticking to your dripping cunt.
“mr. lee, please stop…” you were lying. you’ve wanted him for a while, probably ever since the first time you’ve seen him but everything felt too sudden, everything was going so fast—too fast even, you couldn’t think about anything.
you whined, wiggling your ass to feel more, arousal starting to drip down your legs. he was right there, fingers so close to where you wanted him the most, losing your mind, the strong facade that you’ve put on over the months slowly crumbling away. “stop? i don’t think you want me to stop sweetheart.” his voice was venom, the bathroom was spinning. you knew there was no way out of this.
you let out a gasp once more, feeling his fingers toss your panties to the side. collecting your wetness on his fingers, he tapped your bottom lip, making you open your mouth, sucking on his fingers. “good girl” is all he says before you hear his belt click and pants hit the ground. “w-what are you-“ oh.
you felt his long fingers stretch you open, the metal of his rings brushing your clit ever now and then, making you lose your balance, falling almost face first on the cold floor. you could barely hold yourself up with your arms, too immersed in your pleasure.
———
for the past week, you’ve been working hard, making sure jeno’s apartment was cleaned up from ceiling to floor. he sometimes tried to get you under him for a bit, but you politely declined each time. not forcing you, he chuckled and went back to his room.
it was sunday. usually you’d go back home on the weekends, but strangely this time you stayed with jeno. he never made you do any work on the weekends, and you were exhausted, so you could sleep in.
you quietly woke up and got ready to eat, taking a pan out of the cupboard, trying not to make as much noise as possible. two eggs and a toast is what you usually went for, so you got that. you didn’t hear jeno sit behind you, placing his glasses on the counter. he cleared his throat which made you jump in shock.
“god! you almost burned me!” you yelled. he didn’t look too concerned so he smiled, making you roll your eyes before finishing up your plate, turning the heat off and rinsing the pan, washing the mess around the sink.
“well good morning to you too darling.” he hums, eyes in a crescent moon shape. you sigh. “mhm. good morning, you could’ve made more noise instead of scaring me and being all silent you know.” you scoffed, placing your plate on the counter, wiping crumbs off.
“you know,—he starts. i think you're playing hard to get." jeno says, flipping the page of his newspaper. you stopped, placed the cloth down, dusting your sleeves before staring at him, already annoyed.
“what do you mean?” you cock an eyebrow, waiting for his answer. “you didn't let me do anything to you last week, are you scared of me?” he asks.
you stare at him, if looks could kill, you’d be in the maximum security of a prison by now.
"did you hire me to clean or to fuck?" you scoff.
he looks around for a moment, then his eyes fall to your shaky hands, fingers playing with the hem of your small lacy apron, pulling the loose strings.
"maybe both. who knew i’d hire a cute little thing like you?” he continues. “never thought i’d be so lucky.”’
“i just think that as an employee, it’s wrong.” you state, trying to get out of this conversation as quickly as possible. he looks up at you, grinning. “you didn’t say that when you came all over my floor three weeks ago. you even cleaned it up like i asked you.”
the familiar feeling of heat rising to your cheeks comes back on your face once more, you almost drop your egg on the floor when you hear him say that.
“excuse me? i don’t think you should— he places his hand over yours. "hm. why don’t you love me baby?” he pouts. god, you thought he was so beautiful, you wanted to kiss him so badly but you stood your ground, still wanted to show him that you weren’t interested in any of this, even if you felt your thighs getting sticky.
“i-i don’t love you like that…” you replied. “i mean i’m just here to work, that’s all.” you picked up your plate, placed it in the dishwasher before washing your hands. while you did so, you felt jeno place his hands on your hips, your back facing him.
you did miss jeno’s touch on your body, his wet kisses, his hands, maybe even his dick— even if you thought that was ridiculous— you couldn’t deny it. he placed his chin on your shoulder before whispering to your ear. “i know my baby misses me. you’re telling me that if i pulled your panties down you wouldn’t be wet?” you nod, biting your lip in anticipation. his voice sent shivers down your spine, his hands slid lower and lower until they reached your lower belly.
he hums. “no underwear?”
you shook your head, “i just woke up and got hungry, i didn’t think about it.” your voice was small, you felt defeated and now with jeno caging you in his arms you had no escape.
“liar .”
you suddenly get picked up bridal style, panic on your face. “what? no i’m not! i swear i didn’t think about that— where are we going?” you hit his arm, trying to make him let go of you— to no avail. “we’re going somewhere special, you’ll love it.”
———
his bedroom was dark, you could barely see anything. his bed was large; however, the duvet and scattered blankets were soft under your palms. you heard jeno coming out of his bathroom, as you waited patiently for him on the bed.
“i thought i wasn’t allowed to be here.” you break the silence. he looks at you, hair still wet from his shower, towel—barely hanging— low on his hips.
he chuckles. “maybe i’ve changed my mind, i didn’t think you’d look so pretty waiting for me.” you felt your ears burning again, not sure of what to say. “c’mon, take it off.”
“what?”
“my towel. take it off.”
you do as he says, trembling hands pulling the cloth and letting it fall at his feet. you sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at him, waiting for directions.
“what are you waiting for? show me how good you suck cock.” you frown, unsure if you should get to work, his cock was standing right in front of your face, tip leaking on your top, staining it. he was huge, bigger than those college boys you’ve fucked years ago. you started to worry about the size when all of a sudden he takes your hair in a fist and forces your mouth down his cock.
he groans. “when i ask for something, you get to it, and you do it quickly. i’ve been waiting for that mouth for weeks. i think i deserve it, don't you think?” mouth full of him, you choke a few times before he pulls your hair back, leaving spit and drool down his cock. “fuck, that’s a good girl, but you can do better.” his stare made you feel small, but you loved it, you wanted him, all of him, so you quickly got on your knees and stroked him a few times, making him release a moan. you took him in your mouth once more, this time taking him down your throat as much as possible, feeling the corner of your eyes watering.
you felt him twitch in your mouth after a bit, sometimes teasing him by licking your way up from his base to the tip, kissing it right after. the grip on your hair started to hurt, he was pulling hard on your scalp, but you wanted to please him as much as you can. “fuck…fuck— stop i wanna cum inside you.” he insisted and you released his cock with a pop, obeying him.
he climbed on his bed, back facing the headboard, tapping his thigh indicating you to straddle him, and so you did. you felt scared, he was big, it was already a struggle to take him inside your mouth, but your pussy? not a chance. you took your top off, letting jeno’s hands grab your tits, and pinching your nipples a few times. you whined in pain, but you brushed it off and started to unzip your skirt when jeno stopped you.
“no baby, you keep that on for me.” his hands fell onto your ass, groping it and giving it a few slaps, which made you moan out loud. “hmm, you like it? you like it when i play with your ass?” he asks and you quickly nod, eager to receive more. you grind on his cock for a few minutes, your juices coating his thighs and dick, before you lift yourself up and sink down on his cock, biting your bottom lip at the intrusion.
once he’s fully bottomed out, you both moan in unison. you stay like this for a bit, while adjusting to his size. you placed one hand on his chest and the other on his shoulder before you’re ready to start.
“that’s it, ride me baby, show me how much you want my cock.” is all you need before you go faster, deeper, losing yourself in pleasure, eyes rolling into the back of your head, nails digging into his skin. you feel his hands grabbing your ass before he fucks into you harshly. you moan his name like a broken record, his pace almost making you lose balance, big hands leaving handprint on your cheeks. “h-harder please… i want more.”
he laughs. “of course you want more, you’re made for my cock and nothing else, got it?”
you nod. this time, tears are falling down your face. you’re a mess, your thighs are burning from going back and forth, but he just feels so good inside you, you never want it to end.
you don’t even realize that you’re mumbling to yourself, lost in your own pleasure when jeno slaps your face, making you gasp. “you feel so good, you’re so good you’re so—ah!“ he flips you on your back, pushes your legs up to your shoulders, placing you in a mating press position. he slides in cock back inside you, this time making you cry out.
“it’s too much, please.” you grab his biceps, boobs bouncing up and down as he goes harder on your already exhausted body.
“you can take it princess, you’re doing so well already, i guess i should reward you hm?” all you can do is whine, the knot in your stomach tightening more and more, ready to unravel anytime soon.
“my little girl is close, is she? cum with me baby.” jeno’s thrusts are uneven, indicating that he’s close too; and just like that, you both cum together, loud moans and heavy breathing are heard in the dimly lit room. you feel his warm load inside you before he pulls out, feeling cum starting to seep out of you, whining at the stickiness between your legs.
he gives you a small kiss before getting out of bed, showing his signature eye smile while heading to the bathroom.
“you should get back to work, you’ve got some cleaning to do.” is all he says before throwing you a wink.
taglist (those who asked!): @tyxoxo @sexygrass @produmads @jenoslutie @painted-hills could not tag keemburley
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Cruel Existence (Gojo Satoru x Reader)
summary: Gojo broke up with you a week ago. Trying to forget him, you invited your friends to a night out. It was fun while it lasted, until you realized that you never went home to your own place. In fact, you were sleeping soundly on his bed.
cw/tw: angst, hurt, pain, mentions of break up, regret, mentions of drinking until one passes out (please don't do this), trespassing
a/n: this was fun to write. I hope you like it. Again, as much as I appreciate likes, comments and reblogs motivates me better. Thank you!
🐈
It is wild how the stranger you once met becomes the most important person in your life.
Then for one day, life decided to make that person a stranger again.
Some may argue that no, they're not strangers anymore.
However if you think about it, a person who isn't in your life is nothing but a mere stranger.
His memories may be there, and it must have been your greatest treasure. Yet, it doesn't erase the fact that it wasn't them anymore.
Each day, the knife twists deeper, sharper and deadlier the more you think about the what ifs and the whatnots.
It's like a deadly poison slivering inside your vein. Memories turn lethal and invasive. You begged for them to just stop and let you breathe.
You prayed every night for it to be over. As you close your eyes, you wish that the morning will make you feel renewed and the person you once were.
How cruel life can be when all you wanted was to be loved.
Gojo had found you first. Maybe that explains a lot why he ended it in the first place.
"Look at this girl. She called us to drink her sorrows away but she was just holding her beer and staring from afar." Iori called you out. Then, rolled her eyes in annoyance. You gave her a chuckle and muttered an apology.
If she did not call your name, you will probably think about what you did wrong and why he ended your relationship that way. He looks tired, fed up when you ask why. He wasn't the same Satoru to whom you knew. It was true that he could be cold-hearted at times but he never acted that way towards you.
That should have been a red flag but that action had made a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. You almost thought you were special.
You bit your lips as you felt another tear wanting to come out and spill your pain in front of your friends again. Shaking your head and blinking your eyes, you tried your best to stop it.
You called and invited them to forget him. It has been a week. It shouldn't bother you as much anymore. He probably had been enjoying his single life. The pain of being pursued and being rejected after achieving your goal was something you had been trying your best not to overthink about. It might be true, but it wasn't healthy to soak through the scenarios and what ifs you knew nothing about.
It will just kill you inside and there will be no reprieve for it.
Attention and awareness finally came back to what you were doing, and so you looked around. The bar was loud. Blinking lights and the alcohol were giving everyone a false sense of confidence as they danced and socialized on the crowded dance floor. Everyone looked like they were having fun. Now, you kinda felt bad that your friends were just sitting inside the private booth with you. Especially, when all of these independent ladies had been through a tough week doing their work. You felt bad wasting their time to watch you mopping and crying over a man they already told you to be wary about.
"I know what you were thinking. And no, I'd rather sit here and join you into drinking your heart out than be with those strangers. Drink up!" Mei mei raised her eyebrows and tapped your pint. She's always so impressive at reading people. Sometimes you wonder if you had said your thoughts aloud with how accurate her words were, at times.
Heart filled with warmth, with how loving your friends were, you stood up and hugged them all. Shoko who remained quiet and sitted patted your back in reassurance after returning your big hug.
It was probably harder for her to hear what happened. She was close to Gojo. You just hoped she wouldn't be planning his murder though. She may be quiet but when angry, she can be more intense than these two.
Anyway, enough thinking about your ex-boyfriend now! These hot ladies gave you their precious free time so might as well use it wisely and to full extent.
You basically had dragged the three in the middle of the dance floor and showed them your moves, which was nonexistent, so you earned a mocking and hysterical laughter from them. Yet, it did not take long for them to follow suit and even challenge you to a dance battle.
The night was filled with laughter, and for once, during that grueling week, you forgot why you were crying and had to lie about your puffy eyes.
🐈
The pain in your head was intolerable. You had been awake for quite some time now but you cannot even lift your eyelids on how painful it was. You groaned. You moaned. You breathed in and out to make it better but the beating of the unbearable pain seems to get worse.
Well, it was true what they said, it had been fun while it lasted.
Last night was a blast. No one can stop the four of you as you claimed the stage and did your greatest night out. You felt the rush of freedom and so you did not stop taking shots after shots. The consequences were pushed back in the deepest part of your brain. And for once, you let your wild side out in public.
You were probably so wasted but at least managed to get home safe. The proof was the soft mattress of your bed. Your fresh sheet enveloping your exhausted body to a warm embrace while the air conditioner blows the perfect amount of cold. This atmosphere should have pulled you back to sleep, if it weren't for this godforsaken headache. Gosh, you wanted so bad to go back to sleep. But you are in pain, needing to pee and calm your growling hunger. You can even feel the vile gastric threatening to come up due to your empty stomach.
"How long do you plan to sleep on my bed?"
Familiar voice had spoken close to you and your body reacted way too fast. You sat up and opened your eyes. Leaning on the doorway was your ex-boyfriend Gojo Satoru. His blue eyes are neutral but his face says he was pissed.
His hair was damp. Droplets were even falling from it but he wore a white towel around his neck to prevent it from cascading further down to his body. He was half naked, only wearing an untied sweats that was hanging way too low for your comfort. Normally, you would say he was hot. But that was not the most important thing right now.
"What do you think you are doing inside my room-!?" In surprise, you yelled but were met by your very hoarse voice. You even ended up violently coughing and wheezing with how dry your throat was. It was as if you did a 24 hour karaoke with your friends or you competed at a screaming contest.
"Maybe before you groaned and moaned to someone else's bed, make sure you were actually on your bed." He tuts and moves towards where you were sitting. You felt a cold metal placed on your forehead and you sighed in relief. Even though it gave you a quick relief, it only happened for a second.
The pain, forgotten for a moment of shock, was now back twice ruthless. Your head was swimming in pain and you felt lightheaded. You left out a loud burp and you felt the hand, holding the can on your forehead, maneuvered fast to pick up the bucket placed methodically on his bedside. The respect you had for this man for preparing this much so he would be able to stop you if you plan to puke all over his place as revenge.
You wretched as if there was no tomorrow. All contents from last night probably had been vomited earlier because you felt only the acid of vile as it pushes whatever was still left inside of you. Heaving, you accepted the water he provided and gargled the last remaining content of puke in your mouth. You cleaned up using the back of your hand and leaned at the nearby chair while you were still sitting on his bed.
This is probably your year's nightmare. Drinking a lot for the first time, losing your friends by walking to someone else's house and worse, sleeping on your ex's bed and thinking it was so comfortable and homey earlier.
While you were thinking and regretting what you had done, you heard the scraping of the table being pulled closer to where you sat. His presence near you again. The clang of utensils, the sound of the lid being opened and plastic wrappers being crumpled and thrown had almost lull you to sleep when you felt a soft tap of his familiar hand on your shoulder.
With a blink, you straightened up and looked at the store bought food, placed in front of you.
It was cup noodles, a bottle of water and ibuprofen, placed on the side. The cold can of coffee just above it.
"Eat up or you will feel shittier than you are right now." He said more like an order and just stood in front of you with arms crossed.
You gulped and tried your best to eat but your hair kept on falling down and dipping on the cup noodles. You were already aware that you smelled like vomit, who could even imagine you can also smell like cup noodles. With a groan of frustration, you collected your hair on the side and was about to eat again when you felt his hand run through your hair.
He mumbled a soft "Let me." and with practiced moves, he was able to tie your hair with a hair tie. He used to do this a lot when you decided not to cut your hair shorter so you can donate it. He was so sweet and attentive when you were still together and this action of concern was not helping your case.
You sat and ate in silence while he stood there for a while and decided it was too awkward and he left you alone. He closed the door as softly as he could. Once you were sure he was gone, you gave out an empty scream and slapped your face multiple times. The pain, embarrassment, and anger were all mixed up as you felt it rise within you.
With a frustrated groan, you bite your lip and pray that this nightmare was all a dream. But you know better. Eyes staring at the familiar ceiling, you sighed. The room is engulfed with quiet except for your ragged breathing, indiciating, how sick you are.
The silence did not last long when you remembered your phone and frantically looked for it. You saw it placed properly on the nearby stool and almost cried when you saw the numerous texts and calls from your friends. Ranging from the early hours of the day and right now, it was asking for the same thing; where were you? or are you okay?.
Nervous, you tried your best to reply even with shaking hands and once you hit send, they immediately saw it and called.
The call was filled with screams of terror and relief that you were okay. But once they calmed down, you were able to talk to them properly. They even answered the gnawing question you had been wondering about when you saw Gojo in front you.
Around 3 am, you four had decided to book a room in a nearby hotel, instead of getting a cab and going home. You all were too wasted to even trust yourselves that you can all recall how to go home.
They never remember much after that but they were sure you were the first one to sleep on the bed. But later, after around 5 or 6, Iori woke up and saw you weren't there. They were filled with panic and terror because there is no way you can stand up after having that short sleep and being too drunk.
They tried to rationalize that maybe you did go home and tried to call you. But when you were still not picking up, they almost trashed the hotel room. Luckily, the cleaning lady was kind enough. When she saw their panicked and disheveled appearance, she asked the security to check if you left the hotel in one piece. It turns out, she had seen you four together and was also worried that something happened to you too.
They had seen you walking out of the room and through the lobby, up to the entrance. You obviously looked still drunk as you tried to wobble and walk straight ahead, outside of the hotel.
Since then, they have been blowing your phone with texts and calls. They could hear it ringing so they suspected that maybe you accidentally turned it to silent mode or you were kidnapped.
Grateful, you reassured them that you were fine. You made up a story that you booked a new hotel room, in another hotel, probably because you were drunk. Currently, you informed them that you were staying in that room and having breakfast. You reasoned out that you were not able to answer their calls and texts because you can barely open your eyes. It uproared another wave of panic but you told them firmly that you were fine and will call them once you take care of your too drunk ass. To stop them from asking further, you hung up the phone with an excuse that your battery was dying out.
There is no way that you will share to them that your drunk ass went to your ex's huge condominium and you thought as you woke that it was yours. You had been staying and visiting this place that your body immediately thought of this place as your other home.
After finishing your meal, and feeling the medicine taking effect. You psych yourself up to face the inevitable. There is no way you can just walk out of this place without confronting him about what you did and what he had to witness.
You walk to the restroom and try your best to look presentable and not a crazy person.
Once done, you slowly crept towards the door and opened it ajar, you scanned the place and looked for him. He was wearing a black fitted plain shirt, as he sat on the couch, sipping a cup of coffee as he typed something on his laptop. Probably, for work.
You walked slowly towards him and coughed to get his attention. His piercing blue eyes stared back at you, as he removed his glasses and closed his laptop. He grumbled and again, crossed his arms to his chest. His lips were abit pouted and the creases on his head showed a frown.
"I'm really sorry for trespassing. I promise I will never drink that hard again." You promised and even did a pinky swear in front of him. He looked unamused though as he replied with a doubtful "hmmm" and still had the same frowning face.
"Do you remember what you did then?" He asked.
"To be honest, no. I only remember being in a hotel with the girls and sleeping. I don't really remember much about what I did." You gulped when you saw him raised his eyebrow and sighed.
"See those keys?" He pointed at the keys placed on a bowl. "You used that to enter my condo. They were my spare keys that were still hidden in the same place. You were so drunk that you thought you went back home and even slept beside me. I thought I was sleeping with my pillow the whole morning, so imagine my surprise when that pillow turned out to be you." He shared with a firm voice, as if he even cannot fathom what happened.
However, something's amiss with that story.
"No way! Don't lie to me. I agree that I may have done the trespassing but sleeping beside you? Nahhhhhhh! I doubt that. Remember, you're a light sleeper! There is no way I can sneak up on you and sleep." It was now your time to raise your eyebrow and cross your arms at him. You even sounded smug for someone who owed him big time.
You do not believe that other accusation at all. That is so unbelievable and he was probably messing with you so you will feel guiltier from entering his home without permission.
"My new doctor prescribed effective sleeping pills for insomnia this time. I have been sleeping better and on time ever since. I never felt any movement at all." He smirked. And you know, you lose. Gojo never lied about these things and you also knew that he was struggling to sleep.
So if this was true, then for the whole morning, you were sleeping together!?
Who would even do that with her ex? Oh god you are stupid!
His smug look had made you feel ashamed even more and you know that you're red as a tomato. You feel hot all over and even at the end of your ears.
Let's end this humiliation and be done with this asap!
"I- Thank you for taking care of me. I owe you one. I'm so sorry again and will promise not to drink again and disturb you. Again, I am so sorry." With a deep bow, you sincerely apologize and you just hear him say "look up."
"It's alright. I'm glad your safe. Hangover but safe. " He taunted and you just wanted to slap that smirk out of his face. He was obviously implying how humiliating your shenanigans were. And they were, but he doesn't have the right to judge.
"Well then, if there's nothing more, I'll go back to the hotel and meet my friends." A bow again and you were on your way out.
You blinked when he slapped his hands on his thighs before he stood up and used his head to tell you to go first.
You frowned a bit in confusion but followed regardless.
This whole interaction was so awkward but familiar. He does this a lot whenever you visit his home. He usually drives you back home or if he can't, he will see you out to the entrance.
The elevator did not come sooner, however. It was creating unnecessary drama and tension between you two. As you just stood there, holding your bag for dear life. You hugged it for comfort and distraction on this growing awkwardness by standing near him. He looks fit. You imagine running your hands over him again. It was more tempting now than before.
"Please take care of yourself." You heard him speak first, breaking the ice. Your head whipped so fast in his direction when you heard his voice break a little when he said that. But when you looked at him, he titled his head to the side, confused at your action. Maybe you imagined it.
Embarrassed, you used the ping of the elevator as an excuse, thank god, and immediately rode the lift.
He was standing there on the other side, he was staring at you. It feels like someone was looking into your soul. You cannot help but feel vulnerable and open in front of his eyes. He looks solemn, calm.
If you stop me, I will forgive you and run back to your loving arms.
It was too late before you realized that you opened your mouth to speak and called his name.
"Satoru." His first name rang smoothly on your mouth. It feels comfortable and your heart twinged in pain when you realized that it may be the last time you will ever see him.
As the door closes slowly, you have seen his mouth move from your peripheral and he uttered your name softly, like how you say the name of the ones you treasured the most.
You do not know if you were just seeing things but his eyes look emotional, somewhat sad for a second. Before the elevator door finally closes and your name echoed when he said it.
"Y/N."
There were no tears as the lift started going down. You expected that seeing him one last time, you will feel the pain worse than before. Yet, that did not happen.
Staring at your reflection, your eyes look tired. The way those eyes bore at you speaks volume on how your soul truly feels about this.
You had a moment of acceptance when the doors closed in between you two.
A new chapter of your lives will arise. He will have his own world without you. He will be happy. He will be truly madly deeply in love with someone else.
And now, the hurt and pain became numb and cold.
Just imagining that he would love someone much greater than what he had given you was soul crushing to the point of rude awakening.
During those times, you will be happy for him. But you wish, as selfish as it sounds, that he will not be as happy when you were still together.
🐈
Gojo doesn't need to get up to know it was you who entered his condo without notice. He was a bit concerned that you kept on stumbling around and cussing his furniture out that managed to trip you, even though it was clearly your fault.
When he felt the bed dipped and your arms automatically hugging him from behind, it made him a bit nervous. He has to pretend to be asleep or else…….or else what? He never knew.
You smell like alcohol and you're even slurring your words. He never saw you this drunk before. In fact, you never liked alcohol. You have a terrible experience of living with an alcoholic, so a mere smell of alcohol repulses you. He never expected to see you drunk and barely kept together.
He was about to confront you, when he felt your arms tighten around him and your breath tickling his back when you said, "I'm home." with a sigh of relief before passing out.
Gojo had never felt more at peace hearing those words coming from your mouth.
🐈
When he woke up, he was just staring at you. He never had any proper sleep since the break up but knowing you were beside him, he was able to sleep well.
Maybe something inside him had been comforted when you said you were home. It actually warms his heart that you felt at home beside him.
He sat up and, a twang of pain rushed inside his chest. He shakes his hair in annoyance using his right hand.
He doesn't have the right to be sad about it when he was the one who broke it up with you.
Gojo never really knew why he did it in the first place. Sure, his family never approved of you but he never really cared about their opinion. He actually wishes for his old folks to die soon so he doesn't have to pretend that he cares about their words. He grew up without them being around.
Or maybe it was because he felt insecure that someone as kind and loving as you chose him. You were so different to the people he usually surrounds himself around but you were warm and he felt safe around you.
With a frustrated groan, Gojo stood up and was about to walk towards the door when he thought of an idea.
He slowly walked towards where you were asleep, bent down and whispered, "Welcome home." before kissing your forehead.
For the first time, after a week of him trying to justify that he made the right choice, making Nanami, his friend, worry that he was working too much, he felt at peace and happy.
Just for a moment, he wanted to pretend that he did not let you go for something so stupid and you were actually home with him.
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for honor. and duty.
3.2k words / warnings - forced breeding, injections, drugging, unhappy end, reader is written as a woman
summary - it's his job to carry on the bloodline, and its your job to love Satoru Gojo; thankless as both gigs are.
kinktober: day nine - breeding, aphrodisiac ~~~
Satoru was disinterested in fathering children.
While he loved teaching, and teasing Megumi throughout the years was a joy, raising an entire person from scratch? An unnecessary addition to his plate he would rather be without. Besides, he was only scratching at his late 20s, why should he rush into having babies?
His feelings were not hidden, either. Everything about Satoru screamed childfree. Most respected the decision; for the Gojo clan to be written into history with Satoru as the cataclysmic final bang -- the sole pillar maintaining his clan’s status in the big three. It would be an honor and a pleasure, were he humble enough to silently accept both.
But Satoru loves whining.
“Too bad the Six Eyes and Limitless will be totally lost to time when I die…” he pouts every time he says it. Purely to gloat that not only does he have both, but he will be the last one in history, “If only someone could take them off my hands, huh?”
Maybe he should’ve just shut his mouth.
…
“Why don’t you donate, then?” Shoko snarks one random Wednesday, finally fed up with Satoru’s haughty huffs this particular lunch break, “I’m sure your swimmers wouldn’t be unwelcome if they could make another special grade.”
“Gross, Sho,” you gag, then pointing at the man, “Don’t respond to that.”
Predictably, you’re ignored, “But who would be worthy, Shoko? Huh?” Satoru snickers when you gag even louder, “It’d have to be another sorcerer, you know? Can’t just put a super baby in any ole lady.”
“I’m sure you could find someone for a good price,” Shoko leans onto her palm, “Some high up clan girl. A Zen’in? It’d make her life better by getting out of that place, I bet.”
“Can we not talk about this while I’m eating, please?” you gesture to your lunch, though you hardly have the appetite for it now anyway.
“You can say you’re jealous,” Satoru teases into your ear, laying his head on your shoulder. There’s no warmth of skin to feel, and if you closed your eyes the weight wouldn’t be reasonable for a human head either -- much lighter. Airier. As if he isn’t there at all.
“I’m not jealous of not being your incubator, Gojo.”
“Harsh!” he dramatically clutches over his heart, sucking in a breath like he’d been stabbed, “What happened to first name privileges?”
“Revoked,” you flick his head knowing it’ll never land. Knowing he’ll never feel you.
Shoko simpers, long nails tapping against the creaky break room table. When you shoot over a quizzical glance, those nails stretch over her lips; covering so you alone can make out what she mouths: ‘jealous’.
You mimic the motion to mouth back: ‘fuck you’.
“Hey,” Satoru wraps both arms around you (no warmth, no weight), “Secrets among friends is asking for trouble.”
“Donating out soldier serum is asking for trouble,” Shoto snickers.
“You suggested it!”
You roll your eyes at the pair, hoping this was the last you would hear of Satoru’s semen stumper, “Well, I’d love to stick around, but you two are disgusting.”
“Boo,” Shoko wads up the shrink of her microwave meal and tosses it at your head.
“Boo!” Satoru echoes the sentiments louder, fingers clinging to your uniform until his long arms can stretch no further.
“Yeah, whatever!” you holler back, “As if the higher ups will even let you just donate!”
Those traditional old heads will want a “proper” heir, and there is no way Satoru would get suckered into that.
It’s part of why loving him is so difficult.
Because loving Satoru means having to share him: always. He is overwhelmingly busy between his work as a sorcerer and his passion as a mentor. Your love for him will forever be yours to own, but Satoru himself could never be.
Perhaps that’s what Suguru realized when he tried years ago, when Satoru was always gone and the space between them only grew. Perhaps that’s why he decided to close Satoru out completely.
“You actually gonna donate sperm?” Shoko returns her tired gaze to her friend, quirking a brow when he laughs and shakes out his phone.
“Nah, the geezers just keep pestering me,” he mimics a flapping mouth with his hand, “Blah, blah spreading the genes- blah, blah good of the clan. As if they care about the good of the clan.”
“They might,” she snorts, clapping a hand over her mouth to hide a grin.
Both of them know full well otherwise.
“I’m just gonna tell them,” he re-pockets his phone, purposefully ignoring the buzzing call of Gakuganji, “Face to face this time, so they can’t ignore it.”
“Ooh, yeah?”
“Yeah!”
“What’re you gonna say, big man?”
Satoru smiles bright, all cocky and sure and cool, “‘There is no way that you bags of bones will ever convince me to have kids.’”
. . .
A cold, soaked cotton pad is swiped over the triangle of your inner elbow, disinfecting the area before introducing a syringe.
You once asked Satoru why he bothered remaining a sorcerer under Jujutsu Tech when he obviously hates the higher-ups. His response, of course, was lackluster and chock full of holes (“Nobody else can do what I do,” he rolls his hand laxly, “Also, it's the only thing that doesn’t make me so bored I contemplate blowing my brains out.”).
You remember rolling your eyes with a single word reply, deeply unimpressed with his typical lack of tact (“Inspiring.”). Similarly, you remember thinking that you wanted to stay by his side, despite his annoying insensitivity.
When you got the panicked call from Shoko, you considered it a test. The universe cruelly examining your dedication. Ever the fool, you sped for the address she spat over the phone to prove yourself.
Now, you can’t even have the shame of reconsideration.
The bedroom has a camera in the far right corner, on the wall opposite a large observation mirror. Men in white coats pace back and forth, scribbling notes and judging every exact twinge in Satoru’s muscles. Satoru is positioned on a king bed with white sheets, hands latched behind his back in solid shackles with a radiant lock.
“He’s not hurt, right?”
“No,” the lead man steadies a needle to the sterilized juncture, “We never want to hurt Gojo,” his eyes flick up to the pinch in your face as the needle punctures your skin, “Or you.”
“He looks miserable…”
Three doctors turn to you, glaring. The man administering a blue, gluey serum into your veins sighs loudly, “Yes, well… you will be, too…”
The doctor folding your discarded clothes on the left scoffs, shaking his head.
Sometimes you spend so much time with Satoru that you forget how mean men can be.
“It should begin taking effect in just minutes,” the man steps back, letting one of his many assistants undo your tethers, “Mostly an additive,” he clarifies, “You don’t really need it, your stamina doesn’t matter much to us here. You can head in for him now.”
Your stamina may not matter to them, but you’d personally like to be awake as long as possible for this.
“Did you tell him it was me?”
Your question is ignored. So you step through the men and creep into the other room. Casting a curious glance over your shoulder to confirm the study window only reflects yourself. And Satoru.
Satoru.
Satoru.
The name is saccharine sweet in your mind. His head twists in your direction, blindfold gone and eyes comically wide. His eyes are dimmer than usual, though that isn’t very surprising when you were explicitly told the drug dampened cursed energy.
Your eyes rake over his body -- red and writhing and naked. Satoru’s gaze falls from your face to your chest to between your thighs, eyes widening further. You know he’s had partners before (lots of them, in fact), so the shock is unwarranted. Unless, of course, it’s because it’s you and not the random woman from a high up clan he assumed it’d be.
A stern voice breaks out from the far right corner of the room.
“He is willing.”
You gnaw your bottom lip anxiously, squinting through harsh overhead lights to the two-way mirror over your shoulder. Then, your eyes return to Satoru, knelt on the mattress and bare -sans the stocks cuffed around his wrist.
“Satoru…?” your face boils, gut fairing no better. Veins direct gutters for the goopy blue in your system, and it's pumping fast.
He copies your quiet, uttering your name through the still observation room, “You?”
“Is it…” you crawl onto the bed, convinced that his skin on yours could cure the overwhelming swelter in the room, “Am I okay?”
He nods limply, hair falling into crystalline eyes, “It’s you.”
Bright fluorescents dim to a more bearable, faint glow. Swallowing the last of your reservations with the swell in your throat, you turn your back to Satoru -- both knees firm on the plush mattress.
Though his chest beats in sporadic, panicked breaths, Satoru’s lean hips are still -- perfect for reaching between your thighs and grasping his stood cock. He clenches his angel eyes shut to your flesh, but the waves and dips of your cursed energy stubbornly persist in his vision. He sees the wavering as your lust grows, he knows his is the same. Worse, even. So swallowed up in his belly by enforced desire that a stable flow is impossible to maintain.
Satoru is easy in your grasp, slipping inside you with whimpered pleas and huffs. You curve him into you, backing onto Satoru until your soft flesh is flush with his. Heat tickles up your spine, chilling at your neck and causing a rabid shiver all down your shoulders.
Leaning forward onto your elbows, you slip over Satoru’s cock -- sliding along him with manufactured fervor (if you focus hard enough, you can still feel the needle incision stretch in your arm).
The stocks rattle as Satoru jerks forward with a thick groan, hips now eager to pap, pap pap! onto yours. Bonds creak, splinters wailing in protest of his strength as he claws out to reach you. Satoru throws his head back, every sensitive nerve set ablaze just by the warmth and squeeze of your cunt.
His shortburst thrusts don’t dig far enough even though you’re kissing hips every time -- he feels overstimulated and yet unfulfilled. He needs to have both hands bound on your hips -squeezing the flesh on your bones and flipping and bending and making you keen under his lithe fingers.
He cannot discern if the need is driven by drooly chemical injection or longstanding affection, and he isn’t bothering himself with the question now.
“Wanna touch,” he mumbles pathetically, red in the face and sweat beading down his forehead, white bangs slick to the skin, “Need it…” he gasps as you arch, stretching one of your legs to curl around his thigh, “Need to touch!"
As if spontaneously occurring to the crew that Satoru is pleading with them, the leading man jingles over with his key. He looks at the sedation team for extra assurance before unlocking Satoru’s stocks.
Once the bonds clatter to the floor, Satoru is raking his nails across your body -- thighs, stomach, back, anywhere he can reach he’s eagerly clawing. Pulling and pushing before he collapses over you, his chest scorching your back. He stretches his neck to press his cheek to yours, lips loose and babbling,
“So good, so good, love how you feel -- wanna fuck you,” his brain must be falling through his lips because he seems to forget he’s already fucking you, “Wanna fuck you, wanna fuck you, wanna fuck you,” he lays sloppy kisses over your shoulder, teething at the sensitive bone, “Gonna let me cum in you, pretty girl? Yeah? Gonna make me a daddy, yeah?”
Hanging one arm below, he swirls the soft pads of his fingers over your clit -- soaked with the syrup his cock fucks free. His large hand expands over the pouch of your tummy to snugly press his thumb into your doughy skin; thumping where he’s battering your insides.
“Feel me there, mama? S’wet ‘n’ desperate, you want me bad,” he giggles deliriously, humping at your sex in plasticine frenzy before twitching to completion.
Satoru thinks he could go all day.
Thick arms tied around your waist, keeping your chest bare to his with both knees crimped over Satoru’s shoulders. His overconfidence proves itself as he thrusts up into you, lips pressing wetly onto yours while drooling out affectionate slurs,
“Best girl, pretty and hot and so fuckin’ wet for me, aren’t you? You love me, sweet girl? I think you do- know you do.”
Satoru stills only when more cum is pumped into your womb, pitiful mewls bobbing the apple of his throat.
You’re nodding with a heavy crown, forehead thumping into his sweaty collarbones and biting cresents in his biceps with your nails, “Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh - love you, ‘Toru! Love you so much…!”
Nuzzling along your flaming cheek, Satoru wriggles you loose just to flip you around to kneel in the sheets.
“I’m tired,” he muses, fingers dancing in the baby hairs at the base of your neck, “How about you do something, princess?”
You groan and pout, but don’t disobey.
Your knees are tingling and arms shaking as you twist to nestle against Satoru. Stretching back, you splay your palms over his broad chest to balance over his standing cock; then reach between your spread legs to grasp his erection. Skin soft and warm in your palm, he whimpers at the contact and throws his head back into the plush white pillow. Snowy hair tousled against the case, hips twitching up in you.
His cock bumps against your clit in his desperation and the sensation makes you clamp your knees around his waist tighter. You’re all heavy breaths and whines by the time you finally sink base-down. His cock feels hot and thick inside you, you’re not sure if it's all the eyes or whatever they stuck in your arm or the fact you’re with Satoru but your entire body is simmering.
Satoru’s hands unwind from the sheets to cling around your hips, forcefully rocking you down on him: as if to grind both your bones into paste. Cool air catches in the back of his swollen throat, your cunt wet and swallowing him back in as he tries slipping out. He lifts his head -jaw limping open and drool pooling around his raw-bitten lips- just to watch as he lifts and drops you over his cock.
Clumsily, he jerks his knees up and feet flat on the bed as the lava scorching through his veins inspires him to fuck you faster. Sweat beading and swamping all along his hairline and joints, leaving his skin sticky and sucking against yours with every thrust. Satoru’s fingers squeeze harshly around the fat of your hips, marking the skin with plum stains in the shape of his hand. If a baby isn’t enough, then these bruises surely will be bountiful evidence of your tryst.
Suddenly, Satoru sits up fully, lips pressing into your shoulder before he stabs into bone and flesh with his teeth. His arms swiftly move to curl around your waist, flushing your back to his chest as he pumps into you. One of his hands finds your breast, squishing the swells by the handful, and the other hand swooping to toy with your clit. He works slow circles into quicker swishes, thrusts speeding as the heat climbs and climbs from where he’s inside you up to your necks. Suffocating. Enveloping.
Ragged breaths pull with terrible effort from both you and Satoru. Wet slaps of skin and syrupy squelching echoing in the otherwise still room. Oddly, the sound is far from grotesque, instead spurring another sweetened gush around Satoru. The dirty, primal nature far overshadows the lurking men in white coats around the edges of the room.
You can almost pretend you’re wrapped around Satoru for real pleasure rather than duty.
Again, Satoru sloppily mouths at your skin, from the bend in your shoulder along your neck and unto the softness of your jaw. Arms clenching around your waist until you’re practically immobile in his embrace, bouncing along his cock only because he puppeteers you to do so.
Satoru moans hotly against the slope of your neck, licking the sweat off your skin just because he can. You lean into the coolness of Satoru’s tongue as your gut swirls and tightens before you’re seizing in the man’s grasp. His gaping mouth is pressed against your collarbone, slobber inking across your tit and down your arm. He hugs you tighter and soaks in full the clench of your orgasm, continuing to lathe his fingers over your clit until you’re jerking and huffing in overstimulation.
You think you hear him muttering (you hope you hear him muttering), “Thank you, thank you, thank you...”
The unbearable heat is replaced by normal, merely uncomfortable heat. Satoru cuddles you against him still as he plugs you with his cum.
Soft murmurs float back into your ears, men stretching necks to gaze at the both of you and whisper amongst themselves. Satoru lazily drags the sheets high over your chest and settles back against the steely headboard.
He yelps, back arching and eyes wide, sitting upright from the board.
“What…?” you groan, exhaustion overtaking you -- limbs numb and strewn out uselessly.
“It’s cold,” he grumbles into your ear, yawning and laying against the metal headboard again (this time prepared for the stinging temperature change), “Be nice to me.”
Weakly, you make a sound of protest from the back of your throat. Brain too fried to form words.
Satoru caresses his fingers gently over your stomach, gaze fluttering to the labcoats stiffly remaining in the room. They put much effort into avoiding his stare, heads kept low and ducking behind their collars. Rolling onto his side, Satoru keeps you caged in his arms while shielding you from the mens’ stares.
He soothes his nails along the bulb of your cheek, six eyes searing through every layer of skin and muscle down to the beating of your heart. He knows, of course, that it beats for him.
Which makes him feel sick, beneath exasperated euphoria, because he knows why you’re here.
He knows the only way to give it back is with a baby neither of you really want.
#jjk x reader#jjk x you#gojo x reader#gojo smut#satoru x reader#satoru gojo smut#gojo x reader smut#dads kinktober
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Alpha!Wrio, Alpha!Neuvilette, Alpha!Jing Yuan, and Alpha!Blade taking care of omega!reader that's sick with regular illness... Uh, let's go with a bad stomach flu. Stomach illness is awful....
cw: omegaverse, nsfw
Wriothesley
When his omega comes down with the flu he's not too worried but he does clock out earlier than usual or takes the day off to tend to them for a while.
Has Siegwinne check on them if he can't be by their side while they're ill, he might not like what she cooks up but he knows she's great at her job as a nurse so he trusts her with his omega.
Brings out the ginger tea to soothe their stomache and some light food.
If they wind up sick during their heat he's tending to them as usual but he won't knot them or anything since their body needs rest. The most they'll get are his fingers and maybe a toy but they need to be feeling much, much better before he even listens to their requests.
Neuvillette
When he hears news that his omega is sick with the flu he does his best to clear up his schedule so he can be with them even for a short while.
Calls the best doctor he can find to treat his omega and follows their directions to help them make a swift recovery.
Make sure they drink plenty of water during this period.
Should they be sick during their heat he cares for them as usual until they are well enough to tend to themselves. He won't participate but does give them some toys to use if they feel the need is too much.
Jing Yuan
Probably hears that his omega is sick from Lady Bailu herself while he's working and takes the rest of the day off to see to them.
If Bailu wasn't the one who gave him the news he's asking for her help to look after his omega while he's busy with work until he can escape it.
Helps them eat light foods they can stomach and if they can't eat too much he's just glad they ate at all.
When his omega is sick during their heat he's careful to follow any medicine directions and make sure they're fed and hydrated but he won't indulge them unless they're feeling better though he will give them a toy to soothe themselves if they truly need it.
Blade
Unless he's got the script to work on he's not going to be leaving his omega's side so he likely knows they're sick long before they show any real symptoms.
But in the event that they're sick while he's away he does his part and heads back as soon as possible to care for them.
Makes them take their medicine after eating something light like soup.
If they're sick during their heat he tends to them as best he can but doesn't do anything sexual even if they beg him. They aren't in the best state right now and their scent reeks of illness he's going to make sure they're 100% before even humoring them.
#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail a/b/o#honkai star rail omegaverse#genshin impact a/b/o#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact omegaverse#blade x reader#jing yuan x reader#neuvillette x reader#wriothesley x reader
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Spencer Reid - We Shouldn't Be Doing This
Warnings: smut themes but no actual smut, fed!spencer x enemyfed!reader, enemies to something (let u pick babes), insults, angst, one-bed trope (ur welcome)
This is Spencer in the more recent seasons, but you can picture him in your preferred season.
Word count: 1.6k
Summary: Y/N and Spencer have never liked each other. They are always competing over who's the smartest, who's the most handy with a gun. Yet, when they're sent on a mission and they end up in a motel room with one bed, things get interesting.
A/N: Yall are gonna love this. This is inspired by this. Thank you for that. The girlies are gonna love this one! Thanks for reading <3. Let me know ur feedback! @hereforhalstead thank u for the idea.
I had started working at the BAU for a couple of years. I got along fine with the girls, JJ and Emily. Garcia was my girl, hyping me up and helping me with anything. Most of the boys were fine too, Morgan made me laugh until I couldn’t breathe, Hotch was like a big brother to me and Rossi was a father figure to me. But there is one guy that was very insufferable and the only person in the BAU that I could not stand. Dr Spencer Reid.
Don’t get me wrong, he’s a very attractive man. Yet he is the most infuriating person I have ever met.
He didn’t seem to like me too, when I joined the BAU. He looked at me with dark eyes. His hair was always messy, his snarky attitude made me want to kill him sometimes.
After joining the FBI for about six months, Spencer and I were competing against each other all the time. It didn’t matter if the subject was mentioned, we were already arguing on who was the smartest. He kept making the remarks about his IQ, his eclectic memory and the fact that he could read 20 000 words per minute.
It didn’t matter what I told him, he kept laying it on thick. He kept trying to prove to the entire world that no one could be smarter than him.
One day, Hotch and Rossi had enough of us screaming and arguing all the time. They sent us on a light care in New Jersey, about a girl who escaped a convicted killer.
This is just fucking perfect. Now I’m stuck with the encyclopedia. I tell myself. I bet he wasn’t happy too, just by the look on his face. He looked like he was boiling on the inside. His face was red, his hair looking worse than usual and streams practically coming out of his ears.
We got into a car, driving us to the airport. Total silence filled the car, neither of us daring to start an argument. We got out of the car after a while, heading into the jet and off to New Jersey.
It took about two hours to get there. My headphones were placed on my ears, reading the file of the young woman who escaped. I could see Spencer playing with a coin, not really doing anything.
When the jet landed, we got into another car. We arrived late at night, meaning the interview with the girl would have to be in the morning.
The car dropped us to a motel, where Hotch and Rossi had reserved a room for us. The lady in the front desk gave me the keys, both of us walking towards our room in silence. I could feel his stare burning the side of my head.
As I opened the room, I was the first to see that the room was missing something.
There’s only one bed.
I swore under my breath. Spencer saw it next, shutting the door behind me.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I heard him say.
Rossi had planned this, he had to. He planned for us to get away, fix our issues and get back to Quantico like nothing was wrong between us.
I dropped my bag on the chair beside the window. “This is just wonderful.” I mumbled sarcastically.
I earned one of Spencer’s glares. “What? You think I want this more than you do?” I look at him, not amused by Rossi’s ruse.
He drops his bags, taking off his coat and suit jacket. “I would’ve preferred to sleep on the concrete than to share a bed with you. I bet it would be much more comfortable.”
I scoffed, taking off my coat and dropping it on the chair. “Right in with the fire, mh? You like that, to get me fired up and all ready to insult you. What’s your fucking problem?” I speak with a harsher tone, anger clearly lacing my throat.
“What’s my problem? You’re an arrogant idiot who barged into the BAU like it was your living room! You’re intolerable, Y/N! You know that?” He practically spit in my face.
“Oh, so now I’m the problem. Please, Dr Reid, tell me all of the remarks you have against me.” I say, stepping closer to him, looking up at his stern face. His breathing has gotten faster, his hands in fists by his side.
“You’re ignorant, selfish. You only care about yourself and that small head of yours. You try to make yourself smarter than everyone else! Just because you went to fucking Stanford doesn’t mean your Einstein.” He started walking closer to me, anger radiating off of him.
“What else? Hm?” I whisper, my voice stern and angry. I didn’t care what he thought of me. His opinion was the last thing I cared about.
“You’re a spoiled little girl who got everything she wanted in her whole life. You got the job, the looks, the money. Everything. You didn’t work a single day in your life to earn all of that.” He grabbed onto my forearms, clenching his fists entirely against my wrists. He had pushed them behind my back, pinning me to the wall behind them. His voice got quieter, still angry and venomous.
“Fuck you, Reid.” I whisper in his face, my face clearly affected by his words. My breathing has quickened too, my pulse fast and hard in my chest. My cheeks were flushed, the heat of his chest radiating off of me. “You’re telling me this for what, hm? To get me to hate you? Because, trust me, I already do. You’re a selfish prick, who only cares about how smart you are compared to the world. No wonder you can’t get anyone to stay with you.” I tell him angrily, his hands twisting around my forearms, untwisting them from my back and pulling them flush against his chest.
His blood was practically boiling. I could feel his hot breath on my face, his eyes burning with fury. “You better shut up before I make you shut up, Y/N.” He whispered roughly.
I raised my eyebrow, testing his patience. “Or what? You’ll have me arrested? You can’t do that.” I whisper, close to his face. I don’t think he could’ve gotten more mad than he already was but boy I was wrong.
He slammed his lips against mine, releasing my wrists to grab my face roughly. His hands claimed dominance on my jaw, sliding into my hair and pulling it. His mouth was engulfing mine, his tongue deep in my mouth. I melted into his touch, his rough hold on me making me release the madness against him. His lips left my lips, melting down to my neck. He left heated kisses, making my head lean back on the wall. His teeth grazed my neck, nibbling it and licking it with his wicked tongue.
My hands clinged on his chest, the hardness of it under my fingers. His chest flexed under my harsh touch, my hands going all the way to his back and his slutty waist I had been eyeing for months. His breath was hot and sweaty on my neck, suddenly taking a bite into my neck, making me whimper softly.
His lips left my neck, lifting his head to speak directly on my lips. “I hate you so much that it makes me love you.” He whispered on my lips, kissing me harshly with his hands around my jaw.
He pulled me off the wall, his hands roaming down to my thighs and lifting them up to his waist. My hands went in his hair, his sharp jaw and all of the hot skin I could touch.
He sat down on the bed, taking me on his lap. His hands were all over me, on my waist down to my hips and ass. He groped anything he could find. My lips went on his neck, tilting his head to give me better access. I found his sweet spot, making him cry out, moaning into my shoulder. He whispered in my ear, “We shouldn’t be doing this, Y/N.” His voice was rough and needy at the same time.
“Everything about you tells me otherwise, Spencer.” I whisper roughly, kissing back up to his jaw, my hips set over his. He pulled my hips flush on his, a gasp leaving my mouth.
“Fuck it.” He mumbled under his breath, switching positions to set me under him, his tie falling on my chest. Both of us were hot and sweaty, our breaths labored and heart pounding. His hips were set harshly on mine, feeling every single inch of him.
I grabbed his tie, pulling him closer to my face. “You’re not lying?” I whispered, my eyes fiery but not angered. He knotted his eyebrows slightly. “About what?” He mumbled softer than usual.
“About loving me? Because I would be a liar if I said I didn’t feel the same way.” I spoke softly, one hand tugging his tie and the other touching his jaw.
“I’m not lying.” He whispered, a glimpse of surprise in his eyes. His gaze softened a little, both of his arms around my head.
“Good.” I whisper, my lips grazing his swollen lips. “Because there’s no going back to before after this.” I whispered, kissing him roughly. My hands on his jaw, feeling the power of it while he kissed me with exploding passion for the rest of night and for the following years.
#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#matthew gray gubler#spencer reid angst#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x you#dr spencer reid#bau team
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cowboy!eddie ask:
OH MY GOD THESE COWBOY EDDIE SMUT FICS!!!!!
horny hours ahead.
Just think about this. At the first stage of their relationship, eddie and reader had a thing going on, a situationship but not an official relationship, so reader is head over heels for eddie, and eddie is smitten too but their pride gets in the way. So one night reader is having fun with her girlfriends at some town gathering ??? ( i don't know how they're called) and she wants to make eddie jealous. She wears her favourite sundress, red with spaghetti straps and lace and all and she flirts with other boys from town ALL NIGHT LONG. So our cowboy gets furious and wants her to himself and just needs to make it clear to her.
You can take it from here with your absolute best taste in smut writing.
this was so much longer than I meant it to be holy fucking shit.
18 + MINORS DNI
he really just enjoys the banter the two of you have, but honestly, he thinks the two of you are exclusive. he thinks it's so cool how you're not super clingy and will let him work, and then he picks you up and you guys chill.
that's never the case now is it?
you're convinced he's just fucking with you. playing a sort of cat and mouse game that you have no interest in partaking in. he rarely calls you, usually only comes by to take you out and then fuck you, leaving your apartment early saying something along the lines of "gotta get back to the horses, baby, they don't care that I'm sleeping in. they wanna get fed." in reality, it's the truth. he's not one to hump and dump, but he's gotta take care of his animals. still, you're furious.
the flower festival, to welcome in spring, is always downtown. most of the town shows up, there's a parade, and lots and lots of booze. more importantly, there's a band and you show up, wearing your favorite little red number (eddie's fave too) one that always catches between your ass cheeks when you walk, holding your cleavage up and sitting pretty on your chest.
eddie's drooling when he sees you, grinning over at you when you catch his eye. the only thing is, there sits lynette, the town whore that's always had a thing for eddie. she's a regular buckle bunny, who's pined after him for years. she's tried everything.
you're seeing red, and it's not just your dress. furious, you go up to chris, grinning and placing your hand on his bicep while he escorts you to get a drink. you don't look at eddie but you can feel his gaze on you.
the whole night goes like that too. eddie watching you flirt from boy to boy to boy, giggling, batting your eyes, twirling your hair. what does it for him is when harrison plucks his hat off his head, placing it on yours with a wink. eddie's had enough.
"'scuse me." eddie grins, calloused hand wrapping around your upper arm. "'m gonna take this little lady from ya for just a second."
you don't protest, letting him drag you, boots scuffing against the cobbled ground of the street. eddie is taking long, striding steps towards the parking lot, unrelenting in his grip on your arm.
"eddie, let go of me! I'm not done hanging out with my friends!" you huff.
"friends?" eddie scoffs, jaw clenching in anger. "fuckin' friends, yeah, they seem like they wanna be your friend." he seethes.
you scoff, rolling you eyes. "oh, don't tell me you're jealous, cowboy." you snap. "we're not anything special anyways. you're too busy with all your other little ladies aren't you?" you challenge, eyes squinted at him.
eddie blinks, scanning your features. "have you lost your mind?" he asks.
"no, but you certainly have. now let me go." you snap, wrenching your arm out of his grasp. "go talk to lynette or-or alice. I don't want to distract you."
"why the fuck would I talk to either one of them?" eddie throws his hands out. "why would I -hey, I'm talkin' to you." eddie grabs your arm, spinning you around to face him. "you gonna walk away from me when I'm talking to you?"
"who do you think you are?" you scoff. "you don't get to talk to me like that. not when you ignore me all week, and then think I'm gonna spread my legs and be on your booty call rotation with those other bitches. I'm not interested in that."
"what the fuck are you talkin' about?" eddie huffs, jaw clenched. "I told you, I had auction all week, and I was gonna take you out thursday, and you said you were sick!"
"because I'm not going to be played by you, eddie!" you shrill in the parking lot, uncaring of the people around you who might hear. "I'm not going to be competing for your attention with these other girls-"
"-goddamit!" eddie yells, slamming his hand in frustration on the metal of his truck. "I don't want any of those other girls. I want you." his eyes are intense, fierce, chest heaving hard under his band tee. you swallow thickly.
"I don't know who's told you I've been with other girls, but I haven't alright? when I'm not workin', or sleepin', I'm trying to be with you." eddie huffed, moving so he trapped you against the car, tattooed arms caging you. "I want you, you little brat, not anyone else but you."
your bottom lips quivers, flushing under his sweet gaze. your lips are on his in a moment, hands raking through his curls in an intense kiss that lead to the two of you fumbling around in his back seat of his truck.
eddie's belt buckle pressed against your thigh, the imprints of whatever saying or figure onto the soft skin while he thrusted into you, hard and unforgiving. his hand cradled the back of your neck, holding you close to his chest, while his other gripped the headrest for balance.
he was abusing that spongey spot inside of you, sure you'd be gushing soon. his thrusts were hard, breath heavy in your ear, curls falling loose from his bun and tickling your neck.
"you ever act like that again, and I'll use this belt to blister that cute little ass, you hear me?" eddie sneered, grunting when you clamped and gushed over his cock, strangling his thick member around your velvety walls.
"and you ever put on another man's hat, darlin', and you'll be in real trouble. don't you ever do that again." eddie growled.
"'m sorry, 'm sorry." you whimpered, nails gripping the fabric of his shirt, balling it between your fists.
eddie pounded you out, leaving you filled and flooded at the same time over his seats. good thing they're leather, eddie thought when he saw the mess you'd left behind.
he took you back to his place that night, pounding you out all night until the roosters were crowing, making you wear his hat while you rode him until your thighs were trembling and giving out.
eddie watched you, tangled under his sheets, the golden light of the morning sun on your skin, your parted lips puffing out air against his inked chest. he knew the horses would be waiting, but he couldn't bring himself to get up just yet. to leave a sight as precious and perfect as this. he knew you'd be around for a while, he'd make sure he could keep you around, keep you happy and all his for the rest of his life.
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