#they just make me a different kind of soft alright??? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

insidekatmind · 22 hours ago

Text

Meet my sister P.7-Jude Bellingham

plot: Federico Valverde wants to introduce his younger sister to Jude, his teammate. He hoped that something romantic would be born between them seeing that their characters were perfect together but things take a different turn

Federico’s house had been transformed for the occasion: soft lighting, music playing in the background, and tables full of food and drinks. The party was the perfect way to unwind after an intense week, and Federico had worked hard to ensure everything was flawless.

As the first guests started to arrive, Federico took a moment to gather his teammates in the living room, determined to set a few clear rules. He crossed his arms and gave them a stern look while they, already holding drinks, watched him with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“Alright, listen up,” Federico began, his tone firm. “This party is for you guys, so have fun, but there are two things I won’t tolerate: one, anyone going overboard and causing a mess in my house; and two, anyone arguing with my sister.”

At those words, Vinicius, who was leaning casually against the couch with a drink in hand, burst out laughing. “Oh, Fede, you’re always the same! You sound like a bodyguard!” he teased, shaking his head. “No arguing with your sister, got it, Jude?” he added, throwing a pointed look at the Englishman.

Jude, who had remained stoic up until that moment, gave a sarcastic smile. “I don’t even know why you’re worried, Valverde. I’m not the problem here.”

Rodrygo, sitting next to Jude, couldn’t resist shooting him a mischievous glance. “Oh, really? You’re not the problem? Funny, because judging by how you looked at her at the restaurant, it seemed like the problem was all yours.”

“Rodrygo, shut up,” Jude muttered, shooting him a warning glare, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“See?” Federico interjected, throwing his hands up. “This is exactly the kind of behavior I don’t want to see tonight. I’m serious, Jude, don’t make me regret inviting you.”

Jude rolled his eyes. “Relax, Valverde. I can tolerate your sister for a few hours.”

“We’ll see about that,” Vinicius quipped with a sly grin. “But I bet the two of you will be clashing again before the night’s over.”

Federico sighed, shaking his head, but decided to drop the subject. “You’ve been warned. Now behave yourselves, or I’ll throw you all out.”

As Federico walked off to greet more guests, Vinicius sidled up to Jude, giving him a playful pat on the shoulder. “So, are you ready for another battle with the boss’s sister?”

“There won’t be any battles,” Jude replied coolly, though his expression betrayed a hint of curiosity.

Rodrygo chuckled softly, leaning on the armrest of the couch. “Oh, Jude, Jude… you and her are like fire and gasoline. I can’t wait to see what happens tonight.”

Jude flashed a mischievous smirk at Rodrygo’s comment, shrugging as if he didn’t care. But just as he was about to reply, his gaze wandered across the room and froze on you.

You had just walked in, chatting with one of your friends, wearing a short dress that accentuated every curve. The snug fabric and simple design highlighted your figure perfectly. Your hair was styled effortlessly, and your radiant smile caught everyone's attention. Jude couldn’t help but smirk as his eyes traveled from your head to your toes, lingering on your legs before shamelessly settling on your backside.

"Man, you're falling for it, and you don't even realize it," Vinicius whispered, barely suppressing his laughter.

Rodrygo, noticing Jude’s change in expression, nudged him on the shoulder. “Oh, look who’s completely lost his cool. Do you like what you see, Jude?” he teased, laughing.

"Shut up," Jude muttered, but the faint blush creeping up his cheeks betrayed him.

“Don’t tell us to shut up,” Kylian chimed in with a grin. “You’re the one practically undressing her with your eyes!”

Jude shot them an annoyed look but didn’t respond. Instead, his eyes drifted back to you, watching how effortlessly you moved through the crowd. For a moment, he wondered how someone could be so infuriatingly perfect.

Then, as if you sensed his stare, you turned in his direction. Your eyes met his, and Jude held your gaze with that arrogant smile of his, tilting his head slightly as if to challenge you. You raised an eyebrow, an expression you knew would fuel his irritation even more. With a faint smirk, you turned away, completely ignoring him, and resumed your conversation with your friend.

“Oh, it’s over,” Vinicius whispered, chuckling under his breath. “There’s no escape, Jude. She’s the one taming you.”

“Not a chance,” Jude shot back, shrugging as though unaffected. But deep down, he knew Vinicius wasn’t entirely wrong.

---

The music filled the air as the party continued, but you had momentarily moved toward the counter, away from the noise of the living room. You were sipping your drink, enjoying a few moments of peace, when you felt that unmistakable sensation: a gaze burning into you.

You didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.

Jude had gotten up from the couch, carrying himself with that confident air that seemed to be an integral part of his personality. He approached slowly, holding a glass in his hand and wearing that mischievous smirk you knew all too well.

“Nice dress,” he began, stopping next to you, close enough for you to catch a whiff of his cologne. “Though, I have to say, it seems more like a weapon for distraction than just a piece of clothing.”

You turned toward him, raising an eyebrow. “Thanks,” you replied with a sweet but sarcastic smile. “I guess it works well for distraction, considering you seem to be the one who’s confused here.”

Jude chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Confused, me? No, I’m just observing. You know, it’s rare to see someone who enjoys provoking as much as you do without thinking of the consequences.”

“Oh, really? Because it seems like you’re the one who can’t stay away from me,” you shot back, your tone lightly teasing. “Don’t tell me you find me... interesting.”

Jude tilted his head, his eyes glinting with clear challenge. “Interesting? Maybe. Annoying? Definitely. But I’ll admit, you know how to grab attention—and not just mine.”

A laugh escaped you, genuine yet sharp. “Wow, what an honor! The great Jude Bellingham has noticed me. Too bad your ego is the only thing that’s taller than you.”

Jude narrowed his eyes slightly, holding back a smile as he stepped closer, further closing the distance between you. “And your attitude is the only thing sharper than your tongue,” he retorted.

“Well, someone has to keep you in check,” you replied with a shrug, looking at him nonchalantly.

“You? Keep me in check?” Jude shook his head incredulously. “You’re adorable when you try to dominate a conversation, you know that?”

That word, adorable, sparked something in your eyes, and Jude noticed, amused. It was a challenge he had no intention of losing. But you weren’t the type to let him have the upper hand.

His smile grew wider as he stepped closer to you, each step bringing him nearer. The distance between you was closing, and you could feel his warm breath brush against your skin. Jude wasn’t trying to hide his interest anymore, but he did it in that arrogant way that both annoyed and intrigued you.

“You’re always so hard to read,” he said in a lower voice, almost like he was whispering a secret just for you. “I don’t know if you like me, or if you’re just having fun making me lose my mind.”

You shrugged lightly, a soft laugh escaping your lips, but your gaze remained intense. “Maybe a bit of both,” you replied, “But I think you’re losing it more over your wounded pride than over me.”

Jude laughed again, but this time, it was less playful and more charged with something else. A game. A challenge. Without saying anything else, he got even closer, and with a sudden movement, ran his fingers through a strand of your hair, watching you intently as if that was the only way to truly understand you.

His eyes locked with yours, as if he wanted to read every thought passing through your mind. It was a casual movement, but you could feel the growing tension, and his gaze no longer slid over you like usual. He was studying you, savoring every moment of your reaction.

He looked at you again, this time without a trace of sarcasm. “Don’t you think I could make you do anything, if I wanted to?” he whispered.

His tone sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t back away. “Maybe,” you answered with a mischievous smile, “But I doubt you could keep me under control.”

He took another step closer, his body almost touching yours, and the air between you seemed more electric than ever. The challenge was now open, and Jude seemed ready to face it, but you had no intention of giving in easily.

“I like the way you think,” he said, his challenging smile not fading, “But let’s see if you’re just as good at not giving in… under pressure.”

Your mischievous smile left no doubt about your intentions. Your hand slowly slid over his chest, moving across the muscular lines of his abs, and you could feel his breath become heavier, his eyes changing expression, growing more intense and full of desire.

Jude was about to lose control, his grip slipping, but you knew. You could feel it in the tension of his body, in his hands ready to take you, but you had no intention of giving in so easily. In a moment, without warning, you gently pushed him back, making him step back with a firm move. Jude stood there, surprised, with short breath and his heart pounding in his chest.

"Not today," you whispered with an ironic smile, before turning and walking away, leaving him there, watching you as you left.

His friends, who had been watching the scene from afar, couldn't help but laugh. Vinicius shook his head, amused, while Mbappé chuckled softly. Rodrygo, with a mischievous grin, approached Jude, who still seemed to be in shock.

"She just put jude in his place," Vinicius said, laughing.

Jude stayed silent for a moment, then turned to his friends with a forced smile. "It’s not over," he murmured, as if making a promise, though he wasn’t sure what would happen next after that scene.

But one thing was clear: the challenge had only just begun.

64 notes · View notes

bazpire · 2 days ago

Text

Some headcanons of Azmidi because I'm fucking starving and I adore him

His main love languages are gift giving and acts of services.

He'll leave small presents and gifts around Sweetie's house while they're gone, like their favorite snacks or drinks, as a way to say "I know what you like and I like making you happy" and "I was in your home." He'll also leave handwritten love notes in different strategic places. Their work bag, their fridge, their nightstand, places he knows they'll look into at certain times of the day (yes, he has their schedule memorised, of course he does.)

Yeah, he can be equally adorable and terrifying, which is why Sweetie likes him in the first place.

He also will take note of the chores Sweetie doesn't enjoy and do them/part of them while they're gone/sleeping so that the workload is much easier.

He's freaky, but also, he really does appreciate and care for them. Beyond just a meal, he deeply desires for them to be safe, happy, and satisfied.

He checks in on them quite often, to the point that it could be annoying to anyone else. Almost every day, their phone will ring, and a soft, concerned voice will ask, "How are you feeling? Are you alright? Have you eaten? Drank water? Taken a break? Do you need something when you get home? I'll get it for you, I'll do it for you, tell me if you need or want something, I got you."

And kind of crazy headcanon, but I really think he isn't jealous at all. He not only trusts entirely in Sweetie, but also knows that there's quite literally no one that knows them like he does, that can give them what they need and desire more than anything like he can. He knows that he understands them and loves them in a way that not anyone would be capable of. So he's pretty secure in his relationship with Sweetie, which is why he allowed them to go on a "date" with that one guy in the first place. Azmidi knew, from the very beginning, even before that guy was aware of his Sweetie's existence, that this "date" was nothing more than a means to an end. This man was little more than a prop. A tool to get his Sweetie even more riled up, even more scared. And it worked perfectly, as he knew it would.

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted fandom #redacted caller #redacted the caller #redacted azmidi #redacted headcanons #redacted asmr caller #redacted audio caller #redacted asmr azmidi #redacted audio azmidi

40 notes · View notes

choerrysjubiles · 1 day ago

Text

All Superimposed

Pairing: Sungchan x fem!reader

Warning: smut! reader is ovulating, table sex, cunnilingus, fingering, backshots, protected sex, multiple orgasms, cum eating, sungchan utilizing chairs

wc: 2.3k

a/n: beginning and ending feels rushed because i do not care about plot <3 the plot is i want sungchan's dick in me <3<3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Days off with y/n were Sungchan's favorite. They could stay in and relax together, watching shows and spend their day cuddling. They could go out on an impromptu date, visiting a museum or diner before taking a plethora of candids of each other. Meet up with friends. He couldn't spend enough time with her.

Tired muscles relaxing in the sheets of his bed, Sungchan felt his phone vibrate, a text from one of their mutual friends. It was something about planning a surprise birthday party.

Calling out to y/n, he got up to dress and make their way out.

The couple met up with their friend at a cafe. Their small group catching up on their week affairs, chatting, laughing, ordering drinks and snacks before getting to business.

This was fine and normal, Sungchan sitting, arm entwined with y/n's as they listened to some party pitch. But Sungchan slowly became distracted as he felt y/n's hands move around.

From this morning to now, the moments he's relaxed with y/n she's had some hand on him. Which is fine, his love language was physical touch. But something about the way she rubbed his forearm and twisted the joints on his hand. He felt a suspicion but couldn't pin it down.

Even when they drove, his hand often landed on her thigh as he drove but she usually left it alone. Today she was just as touchy as their morning, as right now.

As they began discussing what decor to bring and what games to play, Sungchan felt her free hands travel up to his bicep. Giving light squeezes to his muscle. He gave her a look over before forcing his attention back to his friends.

Later on Sungchan noticed she'd stare a little longer at him than normal. He could swear he saw her pupils blow out, her eyes undressing him even from her peripheral.

After everyone left, they drove around window shopping for presents. Hand in hand, they walked around stores. Looking at anything they could gift. Sungchan usually intertwined their fingers together but this time she was feeling and almost investigating his hand. Her small fingers reaching over to brush his finger pads or rubbing the joints.

Sungchan wrote it off, thinking it's just because they haven't had many days together in a while.

Arriving home, Sungchan still wondered what was up with y/n. She wasn't usually like this when they went out, maybe on a solo date but never so publicly.

She was changing into comfortable house clothes as Sungchan stood in their kitchen investigating what was up with her. Pondering when the last time she was like this until it dawned on him.

Just last month she acted similar, maybe a little less bold but horny regardless. A week before her period y/n was very touchy and all over him. Kissing him, nightly asking for him to touch her and make her cum. Even throughout the day, she'd beg for some kind of touch from Sungchan.

Hearing her walk out, Sungchan followed her. She sat at their dining table, laptop looking something up. Sungchan sat beside her, watching her actions, her movements.

Leaning his head onto her shoulder, he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"How are you feeling, mama's?"

Y/n bursted out laughing, "Mama's?"

He laughed before continuing, "I noticed you were acting a little different earlier today, are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She replied, smiling.

Sungchan hummed in response. He's not buying it but whatever. He stays sat beside her, scrolling on his phone to pass time, occasionally looking over at y/n.

Hearing a soft huff, Sungchan turns his attention to his girlfriend. Brows slightly furrowed, as she ghosts over the keys on her laptop.

"Are you alright?"

Taking a deep breath she caves, "I think I'm ovulating."

Knew it.

Sungchan felt his smirk grow more, leaning over to rub her hip and waist.

"Would you like to have sex?" He had a boyish smile splayed across his face, feeling the confidence of knowing exactly what was wrong with her. Being right felt so good.

"Can we?"

He leaves a wet kiss on her cheek.

"Of course." He said before closing her laptop and giving her a proper kiss.

Turning, y/n held onto his shoulders as he scooped her up from her rear before sitting y/n onto their table. Spreading her legs to stand flushed against her. Leaning down, he trails wet kisses down to her neck and collarbones before removing her shirt.

"Sungchan."

"I'm right here, baby."

He unclasped her bra before licking and massaging her breasts. Feeling how warm and soft they were. He wondered if they felt this soft last time they had sex or if her ovulation changed them.

Teasingly sucking and pinching her nipples, Sungchan then traveled lower across y/n's stomach and stopped at her waistband. Looking up at her, he moved his right hand to feel how hot her core was. An almost pulsing warmth coming from her pants.

Slowly he popped the button of her pants open and slowly slid the zipper down. Teasing her as much as possible. Her whines grew louder as he slid the pants down her hips and pulled then off of her legs.

He grabbed onto a chair to get a good seat for his meal.

Seeing her panties, he could see a clear wet spot from her clit to her opening. Leaning in to get a deep breath of her scent, Sungchan began licking and teasing y/n.

"Chanie." She moaned, falling back onto the table.

When he grew impatient he grabbed at the top and ripped the lacey panties in half. Y/n gasped at the sudden cool air.

Sungchan dove into her core with a flat tongue before prodding at her clit with a stiff tongue. Her moans made his go crazy, trying to push his tongue as far into her opening as it could reach before dragging it up to her clit.

He continued his actions, feeling her hands grab at his scalp. A decent grip holding onto his hair as she tried holding Sungchan deeper her pelvis. Her moans grew louder and louder until Sungchan felt a flood of sweet cum drip onto his tongue.

Cries of overstimulation didn't stop Sungchan from slurping up the slick dripping from his beloved girlfriend.

When he detached he let her get a breather, deciding to take his shirt off to wipe his mouth.

Rubbing her thigh, "How are you?" He asked, adoration and lust clouding his voice.

"Can you finger me?"

"You want more?"

"Please."

With a wide smile, Sungchan scooted closer and stretched his right hand before inserting two fingers into her core. Warm and slippery from her orgasm, Sungchan easily slides in and out of her. His left arm laying along her thigh and hip to rub light circles onto her clit.

His fingers were long and filled her up. Moans and gasps filled the air as Sungchan sped up before slowing down, teasing and feeling as much of her walls as he could.

Her hips begin thrusting upwards making Sungchan put weight onto his left arm to hold y/n still.

"Can you, mmm, more?" She begged.

Sungchan looked up at her with a sparkle in his eye.

"Of course, baby."

He added another finger, making a scissor motion to stretch her out. Y/n, moaning even louder than before. Sungchan sees one hand move down to grasp onto his forearm and he speeds up, pumping stronger into her hole as he leans in to lap at her clit. Strings of cum falling onto his chin.

Her grip tightens as she feels that coil come undone, legs folding in as Sungchan finger bangs her into her orgasm. Her breathing is ragged and throaty. Her breasts sliding lightly as her breathing slowly calms.

Y/n is flushed from her ears to her neck, hair splayed across the table, legs lazily spread as more of her cum drips out of her. And still nothing made Sungchan harder than her asking him to fuck her.

"You can take more?"

"I can take a lot more." She whines.

"Can we switch up positions?" He asked as y/n nodded.

Y/n turned to face away from Sungchan as she stretched her knees far, pussy dripping onto the table as Sungchan got a full view of her ass.

Stepping back, Sungchan began removing his pants and boxers.

"You're gonna be the death of me." He said, before walking into their shared bedroom to grab some condoms.

He grabbed a rolls of them in case she wants to go multiple rounds. Walking back, he gets a good look at how wet she is.

Unwrapping and rolling the condom on, Sungchan aligns with her core and grabs her hips to slowly rock her onto his cock. It took some time, her two orgasms and the angle making her feel incredibly tight. He continued pushing in, feeling her clench so tightly he wondered if it could fully fit inside.

Y/n let out a drawn out moan, stopping a little after he was fully inside her.

"I need you to move so badly, Sungchan."

He stayed still a little longer, he may have been ungodly horny and his dick may explode at any second but he's not gonna hurt his angel.

He gripped onto her hips a little tighter as he drew out and thrusted back in, hands pushed her into his thrusts to add power to each blow.

Y/n clenched and spasmed around him, feeling incredibly fucked out. This is exactly what she needed, Sungchan's strong hands wrapping around her, his huge dick plowing deep into her.

Steadying his rhythm and seeing y/n is pleasure, Sungchan starts picking up his pace.

"Feel good, baby?"

Opening her mouth to speak, y/n could only let out a high moan.

"S-so good."

Before long she felt her that tightness again, moaning nonsense as her hand moved from holding her up to grabbing Sungchan's hand to rub her clit.

Sungchan was barely able to contain himself, she felt so tight right now he felt himself come undone as she grabbed at his hand. Roughly thrusting in and out as he rubbed harsh circles into her clit.

Feeling her squeeze even tighter around him made him come undone, moaning so loudly. Hips thrusting even faster in and out of her even through the pain of overstimulation.

Pulling out, Sungchan fell back into the chair. He pulled off the condom with heavy breaths before tying it and tossing it somewhere behind him.

Y/n moving to sit upright onto the table, facing Sungchan. Her breathing was just as ragged, a pool of cum dripping from her onto the table.

"Would you like more?" Sungchan asked, a fucked out smile plastered on his face.

As he said it, y/n felt a wave of neediness overtake her. Her core continuing to throb and she adjusted on the table.

"Can I?"

Shit. He really wasn't expecting a fourth round right now.

"Even if it's just your mouth. I'm still so fucking horny." She pleaded.

Scooting closer, Sungchan grabbed onto her thighs to spread them farther. Y/n laid down as Sungchan leaned in to begin eating. There was a plethora of cum on her pussy, his fingers playing with her as he looked up to see her ragged breaths.

"Don't tease me." She whined.

Sungchan licked her up with a flat tongue to collect as much of her cum as he could.

Y/n continued moaning and grasping onto him. He moved up to lick and play with her clit before moving down to slurp at her opening, still stretched out from his dick.

With enough alternating she came again. A flood of sweet-salty cum filling Sungchan's mouth as he drew away from her core. He felt himself harden again.

"My dick is so hard right now." He said pulling y/n into his lap.

With the hottest fucked out expression Sungchan's ever seen on y/n, she replied with "I can go again."

Leaning in to kiss her, she could taste a mix of his saliva and her cum. Sungchan wrapped his arms around her to pick her up and sit back down onto the chair. Moaning, she feels for where he left the roll of condoms. Grabbing and tearing at one she opens the foil before sliding it on Sungchan's length.

Sungchan grabbed her ass to hold her up before sinking her down onto his dick. Both moaning into their kiss as Sungchan's hips unintentionally thrust into her heat.

"Yes! Yes!" She moans.

They both desperately thrust and bounce on each other, chasing their highs. Sungchan's grip keeps tightening the closer he gets to his orgasm as y/n keeps moaning and holding onto his biceps.

The feeling of Sungchan dragging along her walls becomes too much as she moans and gives a final squeeze around Sungchan. He gives a few lasts thrusts in her before he collapses into the chair beneath them.

Both feeling fully fucked out, they lay together, calming their breathing.

"I think I gotta tap out." Y/n says.

Sungchan rubs her back, his warm hands leaving goosebumps across her skin.

"We should go shower."

"Not right now, I need a breather before I try getting up again."

Sungchan nods.

"You did real good, you know." He compliments.

"I did?" Y/n laughed.

"Five rounds? Back to back? That's impressive."

Y/n laughed as they stayed there for a minute. Tucked into the side of his neck, leaving light kisses along Sungchan's skin.

Catching their breaths, Sungchan was able to lift her up and onto her lap as he disposed of the condom.

Testing her strength, y/n stood, careful to not fall over. They both walking over to their bathroom as Sungchan started a bath for the two.

He carefully laid y/n into the warm water and began washing her hair.

#sungchan x reader #sungchan smut #riize smut #sungchan imagines #riize x reader #riize imagines #writing the words finger bang is really funny to me #one time my friend was talking abt finger guns but said finger bang instead #that's always stayed in my head lol #also title doesnt exactly make sense but its a niki song and i love her

34 notes · View notes

i-like-anything-water · 1 year ago

Text

fucking love ships where one of them is insecure sometimes about themselves and how they love other people because they've been through so much and aren't the best people in the world and their soulmate literally adores them.

"Breakfast in bed? My, I might have to pop the question soon."

They rolled their eyes lovingly, "I'm just trying to be the best girlfriend." It came off a bit uneven and they internally winced. It was one of those days.

Their partner doesn't stutter, their eyes going softer with just a hint of teasing and complete adoration in their voice, "Aren't you already, mon amour?"

#wenclair #enid sinclair #wednesday addams #shinomitsu #mitsuri kanroji #shinobu kocho #chloenette #marinette dupain cheng #chloe bourgeois #they just make me a different kind of soft alright???#god #precious lesbians and pan/bisexuals #girlfriends

64 notes · View notes

acrobattack · 8 months ago

Text

i think it’s fun that blossom and buttercup butt heads the most vs brick who targets boomer and more or less gets along swell with butch

#once again this is just me stating the obvious but i think about it a lot anyway #like with buttercup it’s a general refusal to follow the given instruction #vs boomer whose issue with brick tends to be incomprehension or lack of capability #and like. the difference between a leader who wants a Good Clean outcome vs one who just wants to have fun at all costs #butch has no reason to oppose brick because their goals basically align similar to how bubbles and blossom function #whereas buttercup Wants to be reckless under the instruction of someone who simply is Not #and boomers situation is a bit different because he really doesn’t oppose Brick much at all #he’s just a bit slow to catch on and will tend to speak out of turn out of excitement to contribute to a situation #vs butch who quite literally just parrots a lot of what brick says in a lot of his dialog #boomer is just ‘soft’ enough to be an easy target #it also Is just really fitting of brick to aim that kind of attitude at someone who’s less likely to do anything about it #whereas blossom generally has a real point she wants to drill into buttercups head so the resulting fight is. kind of the goal #idk where i’m going with this i just saw a post that made me want to organize these thoughts somewhere #bubble journal #editing to add more #like alright boomer is. undoubtedly a part of their group #i don’t think he’s a true odd one out he Isn’t #he scraps with them and likes the same things they do and generally likes to participate with them #he just so happens to be the ‘worst’ relative to the other two at being a Rowdy/ruff Boy #at least in the way they perceive one ought to be #so when he gets a bit too obviously naive he’ll get singled out #but it’s clear he can generally keep up with them anyway #if only for the fact that brick and butch can instantly tell when bubbles wasn’t able to #does this make sense i feel like i lost the plot

9 notes · View notes

luveline · 7 days ago

Note

Hi Jade! Can I request Spencer and Nurse!reader? Maybe they meet when he’s wounded/she’s patching him up?

(Yes I’m a nursing student I promise we aren’t all mean girls 😔)

ty for requesting!! ik ur not all mean of course!!<3 —you meet the cutest FBI agent ever and tend his wounds. fem, 1.5k

One of the small pleasures of your job is when the patients are cute. Not many people come through as handsome as this one. You’re professional nonetheless.

“What am I seeing you for today?” you ask, holding your hands behind your back.

Your patient, charted as a Dr. Spencer Walter Reid, twenty nine years old, gives you a tentative smile. “Someone hit me really hard.”

You can see the bruise forming against his temple. “Yes, I’d say so. Did you know the assailant?”

“No, but it’s handled.” His smile turns to a grimace. “Uh, I get these, like, debilitating migraines, and I feel like I have one coming on.”

“A head injury could trigger that,” you agree, holding your hands out in front of you, little torch in hand. “Can I have a look?” you ask softly.

When you’ve been a nurse for some time, you start to categorise people into boxes. All kinds of boxes for different things, but Spencer Reid gets a tick for a few things straight away: shy, pretty, and sensitive to touch. He must not get touched much, or he’s had a bad experience with strangers. He did just get hit in the head, you allow, brushing a sweet, mousy curl away from his head and holding it out of the way as you shine a light into each of his eyes. He flinches hard, but his pupils react as expected.

Whoever hit him managed to break the skin, upon closer infection of the injury. The skin has turned purple at the edges of his cut. It’ll be a big bruise in just a few hours.

“Spencer, please tell me if I hurt you, honey,” you say, voice still soft. If he’s got a migraine coming, he won’t want your usual overloud distinction.

“It’s okay. It hurts, but not more or less when you poke it.”

“You have a laceration, yeah? It’s about three centimetres long, but deep. I can close it with a butterfly stitch, if you’re okay with that.”

“Yeah, please. Um, about the migraine–”

“Do you want a tramadol, honey? I think you deserve one.”

“I can’t have narcotics.”

You pull back and straighten the hair you’d displaced. “That’s okay, it just means you can’t have the strongest stuff. Most people try to avoid them anyhow. How about tylenol, would that be alright? Or do you avoid painkillers in general?”

“Tylenol is fine as long as it doesn’t have the codeine with it.”

You give him a gentle nod. “I’ll make sure it’s the right one. You can even see the bottle, if you like. Would you want them before or after the stitch?” He probably knows, but you add, “It’s not a real stitch. But it might feel tender when I’m poking around.”

“Anything. Whatever you want to do first.”

His eyes squeeze closed. You give him a frown he can’t see, and rest your hand on his arm. “Is there someone here with you?” you ask him.

“My friend is coming, I think. There was a lot going on.”

“That’s okay. I’m not sending you home until I’ve fixed you, Dr. Reid.”

He smiles, even with his eyes closed, but doesn’t say anything more. You wash your hands and find your bandages. A butterfly bandage, a sterile wipe, and a square piece of gauze to cover it cleanly. His eyes are opening again when you return, ushering him gently down the bed so you can sit on his right side near the injury.

“What do you do for work?” you ask him.

“I work for the FBI.”

“You do?” You tear open the sterile wipe and again pull the curls from his forehead. “This might sting. Please tell me if it hurts too much.”

“It’s not the cut that hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” you say sympathetically. Migraines are a tricky business. If he’s already having one, you probably can’t do much to get rid of it, but that doesn’t mean pain relief won’t help. “I’ll do this as quickly as I can.”

He’s quiet. You wipe around the laceration with careful, concise movements. The cut looks clean enough when you’re done, and it’s so small you won’t irrigate it.

“Are you an agent?” you ask.

“Yeah. Special supervisory with the BAU. The, uh, behavioural analysis unit.”

“Oh, I know,” you say, putting the wrapping and the dirtied wipe into your cardboard bowl. “I think I’ve seen it on TV sometimes, you guys can track the serial killers and stuff?”

“Mostly that, yeah. Uh, sometimes we find trafficking rings or missing kids. Sometimes we manage hostage situations. It depends on the level of the crisis.”

“So you’re the big gun.”

“I guess so. I’m not actually good with a gun.”

“No one has to be good with a gun to change the world.” You pull the butterfly stitch from the packaging and pick at a finicky end. “I hate guns.”

He sighs. “I do, too.”

“They make my job hard. It’s not nice, seeing what they can do to people. It’s awful, really. Spencer, I’m so sorry, honey, I’m just gonna put this on here, it might feel uncomfortable as I pull the sides together.”

“It’s okay.”

You pull the plastic of the butterfly stitch on both sides, cinching his cut together promptly. It looks better now you can’t see the inside.

“I’m gonna cover this with the dressing now. You don’t have to keep it on if you don’t want to, it’s a pretty small cut, it was just deep. I’d recommend you try to keep it dry for two days, really, you should keep it covered, but it’s up to you. And if anything happens, if it gets infected, you can always come see me again.”

You’re mildly flirting, then. Just because he’s nice and shy. It might be a little cruel of you to proposition a man when he’s roughed up, though.

Spencer, luckily, understands that you’re not trying to harass him. “Thank you.”

You stand, peeling the plastic from the bandaid and exposing the sticky backing. Slowly, you stroke his hair back from the wound and line the bandaid up. He shivers under your nails.

“So sorry,” you say, laughing under your breath, “it’s my nails, huh?”

“It’s okay.”

“You’re a great patient, Spencer. I’d give you a sticker if I could, I’m not kidding.”

“You’re a great nurse.”

“Thank you.” You smooth the edges of the bandaid down for good measure and step away from him to assess him. “How’s that migraine?”

“Getting worse.”

“You have them often, you said? Treated or untreated?”

“Psychosomatic, apparently.”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. Has your doctor talked to you about CBT?”

“Some. I don’t really… want it,” he says awkwardly.

“That’s okay. If it’s psychosomatic as they believe, it might get better with time. How’s the stress in your life?”

“Stressful.”

“It must be hard, the FBI, everything. Life is hard enough. Stopping serial killers must weigh on your heart.” You smile carefully. “Was there anything else you wanted to bring to my attention? Any other injury, anything that needs urgent care?”

“I was mostly worried I had a concussion.”

“It doesn’t seem like it. You’re not nauseous, are you?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

He gets this awful, sad look on his face, it really isn’t nice to see. People come in by themselves all the time but it never gets easier to handle.

“Are you alright?” you ask, taking his arm into your hand.

“I’m fine.”

He had the look of someone who’s always fine. Luckily for him, it’s your job to take care of people, to make sure they’re more than fine. “Okay. I’m gonna get you something warm to drink. Do you like donuts?”

“Uh–”

“I’m getting a feeling about you. Chocolate frosting, I bet.”

He smiles, startled and pleased at once. “Yeah.”

“Okay, I’m gonna get those for you. A drink, a donut, and some much needed Tylenol. You can lay down if you like.”

He nods but doesn’t move.

As you’re leaving the room, you cross paths with a handsome man with dark skin and a bright smile. Must be something in the air today, you think.

“Reid, you okay?” you hear him say.

“Fine.”

“You’re pink.”

“What?”

“You’re blushing. Oh, you had the pretty nurse, didn’t you?”

“Shut up,” Spencer whispers sharply.

“You can ask for her number.”

“No I can’t, she’s working.”

“But you want to,” his friend surmises.

You bite down a smile, giving your head a shake as you go. You need to get a move on. Spencer needs a hot drink, a donut, Tylenol, and a pen. It should be okay if you’re both feeling up to it, right?

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

rafesangelita · 4 months ago

Note

omg imagine s1 rafe bringing sweetheart!pogue!reader to his partay and she is like watching him do coke n stuff. idk theyre so different

warnings: drug use, suggestive ending

a/n: i’m imagining mean!s1!rafe who just loves to have pogue!sweetheart!reader around because they’re polar opposites and he needs the balance lol. this prompt is to die for, thank you anon <3

to say you felt out of place would be an understatement. you didn’t go to parties, you didn’t drink, and you certainly didn’t do any kind of drugs, yet you found yourself in the lap of the one person who did all three. “why are you so quiet, baby? you shy?” rafe ran a palm up and down your thigh, the feeling of his breath fanning against your skin bringing butterflies to your tummy. you smiled softly, shaking your head. “no.. s’just not really my scene.” you whispered.

rafe tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, kissing you deeply before he pulled away. “ i know, i know. we’ll ditch this shit and go up to my room in a few minutes, how does that sound?” his bloodshot eyes met your sober ones. you smiled softly, nodding. “yo’, rafe!” you looked up at topper, the boy flashing you a smile before dropping a small baggy in rafe’s hand. “you gotta get in on this shit, man. kelce said it tastes like candy.” you swallowed thickly, watching as rafe grabbed the rolling tray from the coffee table in front of him.

“are you okay if i do this?” he turned, noticing the way your eyebrow creased in worry. you weren’t fond of the fact that rafe used, but he was a good person with a good heart. at least you thought so. the last thing you wanted to do was point out his mistakes and lecture him as if he wasn’t a grown man who could make his own decisions, so you settled for a quiet; ‘yeah, it’s okay.’ before resting your head on his shoulder. he pressed a kiss to your knuckles before emptying the bag, using a credit card to formulate a perfect white line.

the gold ring on rafe’s finger glinted under the soft light of his home, the sight catching your eyes before you watched him snort up the blow. you couldn’t deny the ‘off’ feeling you got witnessing the way his eyes glazed over when the whole room erupted in cheers, a couple of girls glaring at you from a distance. rafe wrapped an arm around your waist, taking a swig of whatever alcohol he had in his cup. “alright, her turn.” topper came to you with another baggy, rafe immediately pushing his friend away.

“she doesn’t do this shit. leave her alone.” sensing the energy shift, everyone quieted down, now dispersing from the table as rafe rubbed circles into your skin. “wanna get out of here?” he stroked your cheek, finding the liquor on his breath weirdly comforting. “please?” that one word was all you had to say before rafe carried you upstairs bridal style. “you look like a doll in this dress, you know that? all pretty for me..” you giggled at his words, biting your lip once you heard the lock to his bedroom door click.

2K notes · View notes

ponderingmoonlight · 2 months ago

Note

Hello!! If you’re still taking requests I’d love to see a Nanami x Reader fic where the reader is pregnant but doesn’t realize yet but I’d like showing OBVIOUS symptoms and for Nanami to start to catch on to them, I don’t know if that’s like weird? 😭 Also I hope you’re doing good!!

THIS. IS. EVERYTHING.

Yeah, we're doing this right now

Nanami realizing you're pregnant before you do

Pairing: Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,2k

Synopsis: well, basically the request above hehe

Warnings: I mean, reader is pregnant lol, fluff fluff fluff, Nanami is just the greenest flag I can't, please tell me you enjoy this as much as I do, I LOVE THAT MAN

Lately, everything feels… off.

It's subtle at first. Mornings are harder than they used to be, a strange kind of sluggishness that lingers in your limbs no matter how much coffee you drink after waking up. Your back aches at the most random times. And don't even get started on the nausea that strikes out of nowhere, leaving you clutching the bathroom sink with trembling hands.

But, still, it doesn’t cross your mind - not at first.

Nanami’s been noticing though. He’s always been perceptive, sharp in the way he observes the world, but lately, his focus seems to rest more on you. It starts with the small things: a subtle glance as you push your breakfast away with a grimace, the way his brow furrows when you wince, pressing a hand to your lower back. He doesn’t ask you about it immediately, and you’re grateful for that. Nanami doesn’t rush things, never has. He knows you well enough to wait until the right moment.

Today, however, something is different.

It’s a quiet Saturday morning. You’re both in the kitchen, sunlight streaming through the curtains in soft beams. Nanami’s making coffee, his movements precise as always, while you sit at the kitchen table with your hands wrapped around a cup of ginger tea. You’ve been craving that instead of coffee these days, the rich scent of the brew turning your stomach in a way it never used to. To be honest, you’ve never been a tea drinker your whole life.

He’s noticed that too.

You yawn, stifling the sound behind your hand as you stretch in your chair. There’s a strange heaviness in your body, and the thought of going back to bed, even after a full night’s sleep, is oddly tempting. It’s the third time this week that the idea of a nap has crossed your mind before noon. You blink hard, forcing your eyes to focus, and turn to Nanami, who’s watching you over the rim of his cup.

“Are you feeling alright?” he questions, his tone neutral but his eyes searching.

“Yeah, why?” you respond, but your voice lacks its usual energy.

Even to your own ears, it sounds tired. You clear your throat and offer a small smile, hoping to brush off the question as well as the wave of concern that starts bubbling up your chest all over again.

“I’ve just been a little out of it lately, that’s all.”

Nanami places his cup down on the counter, his gaze never leaving your face.

“You’ve been ‘a little out of it’ for a while now, darling.”

There’s a weight to his words, a quiet concern that has your defenses rising instinctively. You sit up straighter, forcing a more convincing smile this time.

“I’m fine, really. Just tired. It’s probably work.”

It’s true, to some extent. Work has been stressful, the usual demands piling up, but this exhaustion feels… different. It’s deeper, sinking into your bones in a way that no amount of rest seems to fix.

Nanami doesn’t say anything right away, but you can feel him assessing you. His silence is almost louder than words. You know he won’t push you to talk, but his patience, the way he waits for you to come to your own conclusion, can be just as insistent.

You sigh, leaning back in your chair and rubbing at your eyes. There’s no way you’ll get out of this situation, not when your beloved boyfriend sits opposite of you with his calm but demanding orbs staring straight through your soul.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m coming down with something?”

It’s a flimsy excuse, and you both know it. But before you can think of anything else to say, a wave of nausea hits you hard and fast, making you lurch forward. You press a hand to your mouth, eyes wide as the world tilts just slightly. Oh god, not again.

Nanami is at your side in an instant, his hand on your back, warm and grounding.

“Hey, hey… breathe,” he murmurs gently, his thumb rubbing small circles against your spine.

“It’s okay. Just breathe.”

You close your eyes and focus on the rhythm of your breathing, counting each inhale and exhale until the nausea begins to subside. Slowly, you sit back, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. The embarrassment is hot on your face, and you can’t quite meet Nanami’s eyes.

“I’m fine, Kento”, you mutter, though you can tell it sounds unconvincing.

Nanami’s hand is still on your back, his touch firm yet gentle. He doesn’t say anything, not yet. You know he’s waiting, giving you space to figure out what’s going on. But even through your haze of denial, a part of you knows the truth is starting to unravel.

“Does this happen often?”

His voice is calm, but there’s an undercurrent of something more. Something you can’t quite place.

You swallow hard, not sure how to answer.

“It’s just been the past couple of weeks,” you admit quietly.

“I think it’s stress. Maybe some kind of stomach bug?”

Nanami’s brow furrows slightly, and he crouches down beside your chair, his eyes searching your face with that same quiet intensity.

“Are there any other symptoms?”

Your mouth opens to say no, but then you stop, thinking back over the past few weeks. The tiredness, the nausea, the strange sensitivity to smells, your shifting moods - small things you’d brushed off or tried to ignore. But now, all at once, it feels like they’re adding up, slotting together in a way that you hadn’t considered before.

You glance down at your hand, the one resting on your stomach, and something inside you clicks.

Oh.

Nanami must notice the shift in your expression because his hand stills on your back.

“What is it?” he asks, his voice low and steady.

You swallow hard, the words catching in your throat before you finally manage to speak.

“I think… I might be pregnant.”

There. You’ve said it. And the weight of those words hangs heavy in the air between you, a truth you hadn’t been ready to acknowledge until now.

Kento doesn’t react immediately. His expression stays calm, though you can see the flicker of something in his eyes - surprise, perhaps, or maybe something more. Did he already suspect this? Is this why he pushed you to think about your symptoms further? Slowly, he straightens up, standing in front of you now as he takes a deep breath.

“Are you sure?”

You shake your head, feeling a little lost.

“I’m not. I… I hadn’t really thought about it until just now.”

The truth is, you hadn’t considered the possibility at all. With everything going on - work, life, the general busyness of existing, it hadn’t crossed your mind that this could be the reason behind everything you’ve been feeling.

But now that it’s out in the open, you can’t help but wonder how you missed the signs.

Nanami’s hand gently cups your chin, tilting your face up so that you’re looking at him. His gaze is steady, calm in a way that grounds you, just like always.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions yet,” he says quietly.

“But if you think there’s a chance…”

You nod, your throat suddenly tight.

“Yeah. There might be.”

For a long moment, neither of you says anything. The air between you feels thick with unspoken emotions, a quiet understanding settling between you. Nanami steps closer, his hand moving from your chin to cup your cheek instead, his thumb brushing against your skin.

“We’ll figure this out,” he murmurs, his voice soft.

“Together.”

The sincerity in his words washes over you, bringing with it a flood of emotions you hadn’t realized you were holding back. You blink, your vision blurring slightly as you reach up to cover his hand with yours.

“I’m scared,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Nanami’s expression softens, and he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I know. But whatever happens, we’ll face it together. I promise” he mutters against your skin.

You nod, your heart swelling with a mix of fear, uncertainty, and something else, something warmer, softer. You aren’t alone in this. No matter what happens, you have your boyfriend by your side, steady and unshakable.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting yours again.

“Do you want to take a test?” he asks, his voice careful, as if he’s gauging your readiness.

You hesitate, biting your lip.

“I… I don’t know. Maybe? I mean, I guess I should, right?”

Nanami nods, but he doesn’t push.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

The idea of taking a test feels overwhelming, like it would make everything real in a way you’re not sure you’re prepared for. But at the same time, the uncertainty is starting to weigh on you, the not knowing gnawing at the edges of your thoughts.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you try to gather yourself. When you open them again, Nanami is still there, watching you with that quiet patience you’ve come to rely on so much.

“Okay,” you say finally, your voice trembling just a little.

“Okay. I’ll take a test.”

Nanami squeezes your hand gently, a reassuring presence beside you.

“I’ll go get one,” he offers, his tone calm and matter-of-fact, like he’s suggesting something as simple as picking up groceries.

You nod, feeling a little more settled now that a decision has been made.

“Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

He leans down, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead before pulling back.

“I’ll be back soon.”

With that, he grabs his keys and heads for the door, casting one last glance over his shoulder before he slips out into the hallway.

Once he’s gone, the quiet of the apartment feels almost too loud. You sit there for a long moment, staring at the cup of tea in front of you, your mind racing with thoughts you can’t quite hold onto.

Pregnant. You might be pregnant.

The idea feels too big, too surreal to grasp, and yet it’s there, lingering just at the edge of your awareness. A part of you is scared, terrified of the changes this could bring. But another part, a part you’re only just beginning to acknowledge, feels something else. Hope, maybe? Excitement? It’s hard to tell.

All you know for sure is that everything feels different now, that your whole life will be turned upside down if this test comes out positive.

When Nanami returns a short while later, test in hand, you take it from him with trembling fingers. He doesn’t say anything, just gives you a small, reassuring nod as you disappear into the bathroom.

The minutes that follow are some of the longest of your life. You pace back and forth in front of the sink, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for the results. The silence feels deafening, and all you can do is focus on your breathing, trying to keep yourself calm.

Finally, the time is up. You glance down at the test, your breath catching in your throat as you read the result.

Positive.

You stare at it for a long moment, your mind struggling to process what you’re seeing. And then, slowly, the reality starts to sink in.

You’re pregnant.

With shaking hands, you open the bathroom door to find Nanami standing just outside, waiting. He looks up at you, his expression calm but expectant.

“Well?” he asks quietly.

You swallow hard, your voice catching in your throat as you hold up the test.

“It’s positive.”

For a moment, Nanami doesn’t say anything. His eyes flicker to the test in your hand, and then back to your face, his expression unreadable. And then, slowly, he steps forward, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle, grounding embrace.

“We’re going to be okay,” he murmurs against your hair.

“You’re going to be okay.”

And somehow, with his arms around you, you really believe him. Maybe you will be able to work this out. After all, you have none other than Kento Nanami by your side, right?

“Kento…”, you begin, the flood of sniffs and wild emotions now slowly but surely calming down.

“What is it, darling?”

“Did you…did you know?”

He sends a small smile your way while gently stroking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I couldn’t be sure. But after seeing you like this for a couple of weeks now, I had some suspicions”, he admits quietly.

You let out a huff.

“I can’t believe you realized it earlier than I did.”

“You are my life, (y/n). I notice every little thin about you.”

“And now you’ll be the father of a child”, you breathe out.

The words still feel strange while rolling off your tongue. Kento Nanami will be a father – the father of your child.

You are pregnant.

This is real.

“And I couldn’t ask for a better mother for my child.”

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain

@risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@sugu-love @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa @cupcaketeddybehr @ryumurin

1K notes · View notes

in-class-daydreams · 3 months ago

Text

Imagine nearly beating a bitch when they imply that ex-husband Gojo was anything but completely devoted.

Being married to one of the most powerful sorcerers in history was bound to garner some rumors. But the the rumor mill really went wild after your divorce.

You'd grown to ignore the rumors that Satoru left because you were unable to have children after Sen. Or that his Clan ordered you to divorce (though they would have if they could). Or that you weren't a strong enough sorcerer to maintain his interest. People could make up all kinds of baseless things, so you grew to ignore them quickly enough.

But of all the cruel, accusatory, presumptuous rumors surrounding your divorce, one stood far above the rest.

"Satoru Gojo's wife left him because of his wandering eye."

As if people knew anything about him. About how "devotion" is the core of his personality.

So, yes, you might have sent an up-and-coming clan heir through a wall at an official meeting. But she had it coming.

Sukuna sighs and yanks you back into your seat. "Calm down. The bitch doesn't know what she's talking about."

"Excuse me?" the young heir gasped. "How dare you speak of me that way?"

You flick a hand and send a water snake directly at her face, making sure to direct it at an angle that would force water right up her sinuses. She coughs and gags.

"Satoru was utterly devoted to me and our son. Our marriage may not have lasted, but he is still the most loving man I've ever met. If I ever hear another nasty comment about him from you again, I will remove your tongue," you growl.

The other clan staff sitting around the table gape at you. No one moves to help the young heir.

"Looks like this meeting's over," Sukuna drawls, gathering his papers. "Good thing. This was such a waste of time. Come back when you actually have something for me that makes sense." He shifts into his Ryomen form and uses his extra arms to grab your stuff. "C'mon, brat. I'm done with these idiots."

Imagine doing a consultation at Tokyo High and being a little extra nice to ex-husband Gojo.

"I organized each file with color tabs. They're pretty self-explanatory," you explain, handing over the stack.

"And here's to think you could hardly read when we met," Satoru teases.

"Hilarious," you deadpan. "And I left a bag of sandwiches and a gallon of cut fruit for you in the employee fridge. Don't forget to eat again or I'll force feed you myself."

Satoru's eyebrows lift. "Oh. That's different. What brought this on? Are you buttering me up for something? What'd you do?"

You scoff and make to leave his office. "I just don't need Suguru to complain to me about you passing out or something. Don't think about it too hard."

"Alright, thanks."

Just before you cross the threshold, you hear, "Thank you for defending me. You didn't have to do that."

You turn halfway and eye him warily. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Kuna ratted you out."

"Of course he did."

"Nice try, though." He gives you a rare smile.

Satoru never smiled much. He laughed, pouted, or sly grinned plenty, but you hadn't seen his gentle smile in a while. It made him look younger.

"Well." You shrug. "Bitches who don't know any better should keep their mouths shut."

He laughs. "The Teenage Jailbird version of you still jumps out sometimes, I see."

"She gets the job done." You linger in the doorway for a moment. Then you move before you can change your mind.

Satoru turns his chair to face you when you run round the desk and lets out a soft "oof" when you lock him in a tight embrace. Your clench fistfuls of his uniform jacket.

"It's okay." Satoru pats your back. "I'm not hurt. Really."

You have to pry yourself from him, but you manage. Wiping a stray tear - that even Satoru is surprised to see - you nod resolutely.

"Okay, well. Don't forget to eat or whatever. Bye, Satoru."

Satoru watches you speed walk down the hall. The six eyes pick up on you stopping outside the school gates and running your hands down your face. Once you're gone, he returns to his admin work newly energized.

It was hard to explain to you when you were married, but those little moments of affirmation made all the difference to him.

~ Thanks for reading!

Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his estranged family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo sentaro #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader

2K notes · View notes

itachiiwrites · 2 months ago

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚❝𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐞! 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐩𝐚𝐢!❞

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI.

Content: 18+, smut, senpai-kouhai dynamic, fem!reader, rough sex, possessiveness, creampies, multiple orgasms, age gap (reader is 5 years older than Satoru), mutual pinning, Gojo "I have a breeding kink" Satoru.

Genre: smut, fluff

pt.2

Since Gojo canonly is into older women as well, I can't help but think of Senpai!Reader who's extremely flirty.

You're kind, pretty, considerate and confident enough that you effortlessly make him feel like a pile of mush? Sign him up.

And he's such a show off, you already being impressed with him with the virtue of him being the Gojo Satoru, the honoured one wasn't enough. He needed to show you how fantastic he was during missions, hollow purpling people left and right and ignoring in bliss the scoldings from Yaga-Sensei for some serious property damage because—hey! He can take some of it if it means you'd flash him your prettiest smile, touch his arm and tell him how good he is. The sorcerer's infinity around you goes away like a reflex.

Like now.

"Satoru, you were so good" The gentle caress on his bicep and that fucking, sultry look in your eyes and how your voice was almost a purr doesn't go unnoticed by him.

"Yeah? Tell me about it, what else was I good at?" The cheeky dimpled grin on his face with a characteristically gentle voice he only uses with you, different from his obnoxious tone towards others, while coaxing you to give him more compliments, his ego soaring through the milky way.

You giggle and kiss his cheek without saying a word, sending him a wink before walking away from him, leaving him wanting more. Like always. And he short circuits, a little. Just a little.

Kouhai!Satoru who spoils you rotten without a warning and brings you souvenirs from the places he visits for missions— what he claims be a habit, a habit preserved only for you; because you'd return the favour immediately by calling him over for dinner.

Much to everyone's dismay, he won't shut up about you.

There's Shoko who presses him on about the status of your relationship. "She's always all over you, did you fuck already?" To which Satoru reverts in much of mock offence.

"She's my dearest Senpai, I'm not that disrespectful~" He replies meaninglessly as if he'd leave the opportunity to, if he ever got it.

Kouhai!Satoru, who feels his breath hitch in his throat and all the blood in his body rush down to his cock the moment you send him a picture of you delicately cupping your perfect tits, "accidentally".

Kouhai!Satoru who makes you regret your little stunt to seduce him when he teleports to your house, with a cold look in his eyes and a mirthful smile on his face as he places his hands on your waist. "So, you said it wasn't for me hm..? How about I make it about me?"

Kouhai!Satoru who fucks you into the mattress till you're a blabbering mess, holding your head down into the pillow, your muffled moans encouraging him further as he ruts his hips into yours, while being so goddamn loud with his whimpers.

He groans, feeling his cock slip out of your messy, sweet cunny because of how wet it was due to his cum and your arousal after being overstimulated to the brim. He plants soft, sloppy wet kisses on the nape of your neck.

"Wanna go again Senpaiiii—" He whines with a slight vibration on your skin, prolonging the 'i', and your eyes widen. He was insatiable.

"Mh.. wait.."

He huffs a small laugh, squeezing the flesh of your ass before rooting a light spank onto it. Getting up from the bed, compromising on the fact that he was aching for more.

"It's alright, rest up..I'mma get you some water.." But you were a simple woman, his considerateness and willingness to provide you with aftercare made your cunt clench around nothing.

And you thought it was a great idea to arch your back so sluttily to him, spreading your pussylips with your fingers reached down, looking at him like a vixen from the seem of your shoulder, not exactly mindful of the consequences for your poor body. "Fuck me, Toru.."

And Satoru was not an idiot to let it slide.

He frantically slipped it back inside, ruthlessly fucking you once again.

"S'good Satoru..mh..fuck me harder.."

And was he really the strongest if he didn't oblige to what his favourite girl in the whole wide world asked of him?

"... Yeah? You want it harder? Tell me again, for who was that picture for?" He cooes against your ear lobe with a stupid smirk on his lips before it's waved off with a grunt when his skin smacks against yours. He spits on his sculpted digits, slipping them in your wet cavern, accompanying his cock, not having any mercy on your puffy, battered cunt.

"Ah—, too much 'Toru, fuck.. I'm sorry..it was for you.." He hums, placing his body on top of yours after switching in multiple positions through the night, his torso slick with sweat pressed against your own damp back. The room was a whirlwind, but neither of you gave a shit.

"What was that..? I haven't forgiven you yet Senpai.. playing with my feelings like that, shit—maybe I should get you pregnant, so that everyone knows you're mine that way.. I'm never letting you go.." his thumb dancing onto your clit as you push out his seed.

And he doesn't. He never lets you go.

©𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐢𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 2024. Plagiarism not authorised. Do not distribute my work to other platforms.

#jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x female reader #satoru gojo smut #gojo smut #gojo smau #gojo x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru fanfic

902 notes · View notes

psychedelic-ink · 1 year ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort

word count: 4.9k

summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.

warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)

a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it

a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕

Joel was never that into gambling.

Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy.

He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it.

Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way.

However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up.

One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs.

Liam folds.

A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants.

“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat.

Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.”

“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.”

Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak.

“You still have that pretty girlfriend?”

Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.”

“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins.

“Fuck you, Miller.”

“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.”

Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes.

“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.”

“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.”

You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.”

That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?

“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.”

“You should’ve thought of that before.”

“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.”

“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?”

“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.”

You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.

“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.”

“You can’t leave, where would you go?”

The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world.

And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes.

You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing.

Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color.

Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded.

The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate.

You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart.

You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything.

And it seemed like you were no exception.

Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners.

You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear.

“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.”

Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there.

And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam.

It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much.

And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self.

The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another.

You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel.

There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down.

“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.”

After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you.

“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.”

He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?”

“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.”

“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow.

Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.”

“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.”

Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue.

He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?”

“God, yes.”

You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard.

Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.

He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most.

Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh.

“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.”

Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion.

Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed.

“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?”

It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?”

“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.”

The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage.

“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue.

Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight.

After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin.

“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.”

He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?”

“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.”

You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”

Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely. “Don’t make me say it again.”

You sink to your knees immediately after that.

He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek.

You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks.

“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.”

You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.”

“Get on with it then.”

Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock.

“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth.

“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”

Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.

“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.”

As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass.

“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—”

His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses.

“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.”

Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts.

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.”

“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.”

“Is this pussy mine?”

“Yes, it’s fucking yours.”

Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning.

He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?”

“Yours! It’s fucking yours!”

Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking.

You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger.

“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?”

“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust.

“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words.

His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously.

“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?”

“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.”

His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.”

Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him.

With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.”

“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.”

Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!”

You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you.

“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!”

“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself.

“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.”

You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful.

You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone.

“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—”

Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out.

If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips.

“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls.

“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.”

“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss.

Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss.

“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?”

“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you.

Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm.

Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides.

Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together.

“I think he left, sweetheart.”

“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.”

Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction

5K notes · View notes

3hks · 5 months ago

Text

CORRECTLY Writing "Morally Gray" Characters

Want to write a hot, cool, and bad character but DON'T want he/she to come across as toxic, downright bad, or, god forbid, cringe? Well, I've got a couple of tips that may help you create exactly what you want!

1. Softness

Okay, yes we want this character to be tough and cool, but there also needs to be a certain softness, no matter how small, that comes with them. If there's someone that your character prioritizes or cares about, there has to be a point or two that it shows--a moment where they're soft only for the people that they care about. Why? Because this establishes the humanity in them. It shows the readers that your character IS human, not an emotionless monster.

2. Goals

Key to any good characters are their goals. The thing is, for this type of a character, their objectives can't be so random. They need a reason for their actions, and it needs to be valid. Usually, this is reasoned out by some kind of past epiphany, which is crucial because without it, your character doesn't have anything solid backing up their goals. We need to see where they're coming from.

Bad decisions, but for an understandable reason.

Establishing their morals is important for nearly the same reason.

Now, why is this important? Because it can pull readers to their side. As long as they understand the cause, they have a chance to follow your character's side, increasing their likeability!

3. Neutrality

Notice how this is a "morally gray" character, not a "completely evil" one. Why does this matter? Well, a trait people tend to overlook when writing these characters is the morally gray, or neutral, part. It's important to just occasionally show that your character is walking the fine line and in my opinion, a great way to achieve this is to have them help the protagonist out (instead of always fighting against them) one, or even two times!

4. Positive Characteristics

This is a very simple one, but make sure to depict a couple positive qualities (besides just being hot) of your character! Like my first point, it's pivotal to illustrate that they have some humanity, and this is an easy and great way!

Throw in a few good characteristics (I have a post with some examples of redeeming qualities for villains if you need some help), and let it show that they are still respectable!

5. Backstory

I believe that with certain characters that play certain roles in the story, explaining their backstory is a NEED for them; and this character type is no different! Introducing even a bit of their past can get the audience interested in your character. It also allows for better understanding of them and shows how they changed over time.

6. CONFIDENCE

Be confident in your skills when writing this character! To many, the idea of "cringeness" makes them second-guess how they should write. In reality, it's better to write it however you wish, because if you're confident in one moment and clearly less in another, the readers are able to sense any unexpected changes in things in your character's tones, expressions, and actions.

It's important to keep your character in, well, character. Still, there's going to be a few moments that break it, but it shouldn't be in any unnatural way.

If your character is flirty, then let them act flirty. If they mess around a lot, then let them mess around. Don't limit their actions or words just because you think some people might find it cringe!

Alright, that's it for me! What do you think? Are they valid or unreasonable?

Happy writing~

3hks <3

#writeblr #writing #writerscommunity #creative writing #writing tips #writing inspo #writing advice #writing morally gray characters #how to write morally gray characters #correctly writing morally gray characters

1K notes · View notes

raekensluver · 4 months ago

Text

hearts aligned

description: you and your roommate spencer reid have always been there for each other. one night he comes back from work and you two discover a different side to your dynamic.

pairing: roomate!spencer reid x fem!reader

contains: fluff!! mutual pining, typical criminal minds violence, reader is described as having shoulder length hair

song rec: fallen star by the nbhd- "you're in my dna, i can't keep away no matter how hard i try"

w.c: 2.7k

an: *sob* i love him.

it was a mundane tuesday evening, the kind that bled into the fabric of the week seamlessly. the apartment was quiet, the only sound the hum of the refrigerator echoing through the hallway. the soft glow of the living room lamp cast a warm, buttery light, a stark contrast to the deepening shadows outside the window. you sat cross-legged on the couch, your nose buried in a well-worn paperback, the plot weaving in and out of your consciousness like a gentle stream.

the sound of the lock turning brought your head up with a jolt, the bookmark slipping from your fingers to land silently on the carpet. spencer reid, your roommate, stepped inside, his eyes weary but a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. his gaze swept the room before settling on you, the surprise in his eyes unmistakable. "you're still up," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble that seemed to shake the very air.

you closed the book with a soft thud and gave him a warm smile. "yeah, i had some trouble sleeping," you admitted, your voice a little hoarse from the quiet of the night. "do you want some tea?" you offered, already pushing to your feet. his nod was all the encouragement you needed as you padded into the kitchen, the cold tiles a stark contrast to the warmth of the living room. while the water heated, you listened to the soft thud of his shoes against the floor as he moved towards his room, the jingle of his keys a familiar lullaby.

but when you turned with the steaming mug in hand, you found him hovering in the doorway, watching you. "you know, i can do that," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "i don't mind, really." his voice was gentle, a hint of concern lacing his words.

you paused, the ceramic warm against your palms, and studied him for a moment. his tie was askew, his shirt wrinkled from a long day's work, and his hair, normally a neat cap of chocolate waves, was disheveled. "you've had a long day," you said, your voice firm but kind. "just sit." you gestured to the stool at the kitchen island, the one that faced the stove where you were already setting out ingredients for a simple meal. "i'll make us something light."

he hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "alright," he conceded, his shoulders slumping slightly as he took a seat. the fabric of his pants whispered against the leather of the stool as he settled in, his eyes never leaving you as you moved with an easy grace around the kitchen. you could feel the weight of his gaze, a warm presence that made your cheeks flush, and your heart stutter in your chest.

you filled a pan with oil, the faint sizzle as it heated up a comforting sound. "so, how was work today?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual despite the sudden thrum of anticipation that had taken root in your veins.

spencer took a sip of his tea, his eyes thoughtful. "it was… interesting," he said, his gaze drifting over the steaming liquid. "but i'd rather not talk about that right now," he added, his voice a low murmur. "do you mind if we talk about something else?"

you nodded, setting aside the knife you were using to chop vegetables. "of course," you said, wiping your hands on a dishtowel. "what do you want to talk about?"

spencer leaned against the counter, his expression pensive. "tell me about your day," he said, his eyes searching yours. "i feel like i never get to hear about it."

you felt a flutter in your stomach. "it was…normal," you said, the words feeling almost rehearsed. "work, errands, the usual."

spencer's gaze remained steady, a hint of curiosity lighting his eyes. "anything exciting happen?"

you couldn't help but chuckle at his persistence. "well, if you consider accidentally matching my socks with my shirt 'exciting,' then yes, it was quite the thriller," you said with a wry smile.

his eyes lit up with amusement, the corners of his mouth twitching. "i see," he said, his voice teasing. "that does sound like a tale for the ages."

you rolled your eyes playfully, the tension in the room easing a notch. "it was definitely a fashion statement," you quipped, tossing a chopped carrot into the pan. the sizzle filled the air, the scent of garlic and onions mingling with the warmth of the kitchen.

spencer set his tea aside, leaning closer. "i'm sure it was," he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "but really, anything interesting happen?"

you met his gaze, a sudden realization dawning. "you know what, spencer?" you said, your voice earnest. "right now, this moment, is the most interesting thing that's happened to me all day." his eyes widened slightly, and you could see the wheels turning in his head. "just being here, with you, talking about nothing in particular… it's nice."

his cheeks colored slightly, and he ducked his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "it is," he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. "i don't get to do this very often."

you cocked your head to the side, studying him. "what do you mean?"

he shrugged, his eyes darting to the floor. "i spend so much time working, or reading, or… just in my own head," he admitted. "i don't get to just sit and talk with people. not like this."

you felt a warmth spread through you, a sense of connection that was more profound than any conversation you'd had with him before. "i'm always here, you know," you said softly, the words slipping out before you could second guess them. "if you ever need someone to talk to, or just to sit with."

his eyes snapped back up to yours, the surprise in them clear. "i know," he said, his voice a little gruff. "i just… i don't want to burden you."

you set the spatula down, moving closer to him. "you're not a burden, spencer," you said, your voice firm. "you're my roommate. and if you ever need anything, i'm here."

his eyes searched yours, the depth of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. "i know," he repeated, his voice softer this time. "it's just… i don't want to take advantage."

you reached out, placing a hand on his forearm. "you could never take advantage," you assured him, your thumb stroking a gentle circle against his skin. "we're friends, we're supposed to be here for each other."

spencer's eyes dropped to where your hand rested, the warmth of your touch seeping into his bones. "i know that," he murmured. "but i also know that you have your own life, your own things to deal with."

you gave his arm a gentle squeeze before retreating to the stove, the comforting dance of cooking resuming as if the moment had never happened. "and you're part of my life," you said, your back to him. "so, what's one more thing?"

spencer watched you for a moment, his eyes tracing the curve of your back, the way your hair fell in soft waves down to your shoulders. he took a deep breath, the scent of the simmering food filling his nostrils. "what's your favorite memory?" he asked, his voice a little rough.

you glanced over your shoulder, a smile playing on your lips. "just one?" you teased, turning back to the stove. "that's a tough one." you stirred the contents of the pan, the spices releasing a symphony of aromas into the air. "but if i had to pick, it would be the first time we moved in together."

spencer's eyes lit up, the memory obviously a good one. "that was… chaotic," he said with a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "but also… nice."

you nodded, your smile growing. "i remember being so nervous," you said, the words bringing a warm rush of nostalgia. "i didn't know what to expect, moving in with someone i'd only met only once before."

spencer's gaze grew distant, his mind traveling back to that fateful day. "i was the same," he admitted. "i had this whole speech prepared about how we should respect each other's space and keep things clean, but when i saw you, it all just… disappeared."

you turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise. "really?"

he nodded, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. "i know it sounds ridiculous, but you just… you made me feel comfortable. like i could be myself around you."

you felt your heart swell at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. "i felt the same way," you admitted, your voice a little shaky. "i remember walking in and seeing all these boxes, and thinking 'what have i gotten myself into?'" you laughed, the sound a little too loud in the quiet kitchen. "but then you looked up from your book, and you just… you were so genuine, so welcoming."

spencer's smile grew, his eyes a soft brown in the muted light. "i've never regretted that decision," he said, his voice earnest. "you make this place feel like home."

you blinked, the sudden weight of his words settling in your stomach. "i'm… i'm happy to hear that," you said, your voice a little breathless.

spencer pushed himself off the stool, the sound of it scraping against the tile floor breaking the silence. he took a step closer to you, the warmth of his body radiating like a small sun. "i mean it," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "you're the best roommate i could ever ask for."

you swallowed hard, the heat of the stove behind you seemingly nothing compared to the warmth in front of you. "thank you," you whispered, your hand still clutching the spatula. "you're pretty great too."

his smile grew, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "yeah?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

you nodded, feeling your heart race. "yes," you said, turning back to the stove to give yourself a moment to compose. "you're always there when i need you, and you put up with my terrible cooking."

spencer chuckled, moving closer to peer into the pan. "i wouldn't say it's terrible," he said, his eyes twinkling. "just… adventurous."

you shot him a playful glare, but couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. "adventurous, huh?" you said, shaking your head. "i'll take that as a compliment."

spencer stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently take the spatula from your grip. "i'll help," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. the air between you felt charged, the tension thick and palpable. your heart was racing, each beat echoing in your ears like the tick of a clock counting down to something you hadn't quite anticipated.

you let him take over, watching as his long, slender fingers deftly stirred the sizzling mixture. "i've been meaning to tell you something," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "i know we've been roommates for a while now, but… i've started to realize that i might like you a little more than just a friend."

you froze, the heat from the stove forgotten. your eyes searched his, looking for any sign of uncertainty or jest, but all you found was sincerity. "spencer," you began, but he held up a hand to stop you.

"i know it's weird," he said, his voice rushing out like a river that had been dammed for too long. "and i know we're friends, and roommates, but… i can't ignore it anymore."

you stared at him, your thoughts racing faster than the cars on the street outside. "spencer," you breathed, his name a question, a declaration, a plea all rolled into one. your hand hovered in the space between you, unsure of where to land.

his eyes searched yours, the warmth of his hand as he took the spatula a silent promise. "i know," he continued, his voice a little shaky. "but i can't help it. every time i come home and you're here, waiting for me, it's like… it's like coming home to a piece of sunshine."

you felt your heart stutter in your chest, the words resonating deep within you. "spencer," you whispered, the name a prayer on your lips. "i… i feel the same way." the words hung in the air, a soft confession that seemed to illuminate the kitchen with a gentle glow.

his eyes searched yours, a hopeful spark lighting them up. "you do?" he asked, his voice tentative, as if he was afraid to believe.

you nodded, your own heart racing. "yes," you said, your voice clear and firm. "i've liked you for a while now. i just didn't know how to tell you." the admission felt like a weight lifting off your chest, leaving you feeling lighter than air.

spencer's smile grew, a genuine, boyish grin that made your heart flutter. "really?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder.

you nodded, your cheeks flushing a soft pink. "yes," you whispered, your eyes never leaving his. "i just didn't want to mess things up."

spencer set the spatula down, the clatter against the pan a jolting sound in the quiet kitchen. "you could never mess things up," he said, his voice a soft promise. "not with me."

you took a step closer, the warmth of his body drawing you in like a magnet. "are you sure?" you asked, your voice a little shaky.

he nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "i've never been more sure of anything in my life," he said, his voice a low murmur. "you make me feel… alive, in a way i haven't felt in a long time."

you felt your breath catch in your throat, the confession so raw and honest that it was like a punch to the gut. "spencer," you whispered, reaching out to touch his cheek. your fingertips traced the line of his jaw, feeling the rough stubble beneath your fingertips.

his eyes searched yours, the question in them unspoken but clear. "what are we going to do?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

you took a deep breath, the scent of the food on the stove forgotten. "i don't know," you admitted, your voice a little shaky. "i just know that i don't want to ignore this anymore."

spencer reached up, his hand covering yours on his cheek. "neither do i," he murmured, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. "i don't want to pretend it's not there."

you stepped closer, your hand sliding down to cup his face fully. "then let's not," you said, your voice a little tremulous. "let's see where this goes."

his eyes searched yours for a moment before he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours tentatively. it was a gentle touch, a question that hung in the air between you, waiting for an answer. you responded with a sigh, your arms wrapping around his neck as you deepened the kiss. his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, the warmth of his body a comforting embrace that seemed to fit you perfectly.

the world outside the kitchen faded away, the only sounds the faint crackle of the stove and the thud of your hearts beating in sync. the kiss grew more urgent, more passionate, as if you were both trying to make up for lost time. your hands tangled in his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingers like silk.

you two broke apart, breathless, your eyes searching each other's for any sign of doubt or regret. but all you saw was a reflection of your own feelings - a wild, unbridled hope that seemed to set the room alight. spencer's chest rose and fell in time with yours, his eyes dark with want.

"i've wanted to do that for so long," he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

you nodded, your eyes searching his. "i know," you said, your voice just as soft. "me too."

his thumb traced the curve of your lower lip, his gaze never leaving yours. "are we… are we okay?" he asked, his voice a little unsteady.

you nodded, your heart racing. "yes," you breathed, the word a soft promise. "we're more than okay."

1K notes · View notes