#which from her experiences with Angel makes her think there's no WAY he could be good
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Buffy- Hanging out with Spike is not cool, Dawn! Okay? It's dangerous, and icky.
Also Buffy- Dawn could be in danger. Must go to Spike for help.
#Buffy's cognitive dissonance regarding Spike would be funny if it wasn't so sad#to be clear this isn't anti Buffy#I understand why she had such a hard time reconciling the truth of her heart with the truth of her mind#Spike is literally the second worst vampire ever recorded#he killed two Slayers#he tried to kill her#and as far as she can tell the only reason he hasn't is because of the chip#plus he doesn't have a soul#which from her experiences with Angel makes her think there's no WAY he could be good#so despite the evidence that he's becoming good#she can't bring herself to believe it#not until fear causes her to think with her heart instead of her mind#anyways#buffy the vampire slayer#buffy summers#spike btvs#william the bloody#william pratt#spuffy#Buffy meta#spike meta#spuffy meta
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fixation
in which you love spencer reid's hands so much you could... well, you could practically eat them. or at least let him put his fingers in your mouth.
18+ (fluff, suggestive) warnings/tags: finger sucking...lol....., established relationship, ummmm d/s adjacent dynamics, like softdom spencer but there's no sex, pet names, teasing a/n: this was inspired by @gublersg1rl who said 2 nights ago she would suck spencer's fingers as he was reading a book. my beautiful angel with so many great ideas in her beautiful head. anyway this will not be my magnum opus in terms of quality but its just a fun short little thing I hope u like :D
Spencer is reading.
He got home forty five minutes ago, and he’d hugged you and he’d kissed you—and they were good hugs and kisses, but as you sit curled on the opposite end of the couch from him, watching him read, it doesn’t feel like enough. Three days isn’t the longest he’s been gone, but you missed him like he was gone longer. And now, he’s not truly ignoring you—but he’s not giving you enough attention. It’s unintentional, but it’s making you feel all kinds of needy and overly-affectionate anyway.
Especially when he’s so gorgeous. Ankle crossed over knee, lithe fingers skimming over the page to keep track of his place. Those hands are truly distracting. It’s unlike you to be struck by such wildly inappropriate thoughts so out of context, but here you are, having been without him for days, practically feverish on the couch as you imagine all the things they could do. All the things they��have done. The way they've traced down your bare spine, up your side, so lovingly in the middle of the night... how they've touched you elsewhere...
And... that's enough.
Despite the whole committed relationship thing, you still feel a bit scandalized picturing him like that. And you know from experience these thoughts will only get worse if you stay over here, staring at him, wanting him, so you crawl across the couch and under his arm, settling your head in his lap and looking up at him expectantly. He chuckles—a quiet, dry thing, that says he’s only partially surprised by your behavior.
“Well hello,” Spencer says, taking one hand off the book to settle on your leg.
“Hi.”
For a moment he just studies you, affection seeping into his eyes along with the humor already there. “Can I help you?”
“Mhm.”
His brow darts up.
“With what, baby?”
Baby. Your whole body tingles. He only calls you that when he’s feeling especially soft toward you and your whims. In turn you soften, and you both become rather mushy.
Unfortunately your brain is not excluded from melting, and you look up at him helplessly.
“Um…”
Spencer’s hand falls from your knee, taking an unnecessary but appreciated route down your thigh and up your stomach before settling on your cheek. He brushes away a few baby hairs before two knuckles begin drawing soft lines from the corner of your mouth up toward your ear and back again, and your stomach becomes a hail of butterflies. He’s got this soft smile on his face and you love him so much and he’s so sweet and perfect, you could just—
You’re not thinking very clearly when you tilt your head, angling your chin up until you catch his fingers against your lips. His eyes remain on yours as he traces the shape of your mouth with those same two knuckles—until you’re slowly parting, obstructing his path and offering a very different kind of invitation. Spencer’s eyes narrow fractionally and you watch the way his focus changes, the way he only tests the waters at first, letting the tips of his fingers trace the length of your bottom lip, before barely tugging down just enough to feel the soft warmth of the border of it. They skate over the ridge of your teeth and find the tip of your tongue, at which point you can’t help from closing your lips around his fingers, eyes fluttering contentedly as you draw them deeper into your mouth. His brows draw together, and those pretty pink lips part soundlessly like you’re the eighth wonder of the world in a way that has your thighs clenching. You hear the book shut and fall carelessly to the side table. He doesn’t even bother saving his place—too busy bringing that newly freed hand to your hair and combing gently against your scalp.
It’s strangely calming to have him like this—he’s undeniably with you, undeniably close, against your lips and tongue. All your worries about his distance dissolve and you feel incredibly comforted. With his other hand, his thumb begins stroking a line from the bridge of your nose up your forehead, and you could pass out.
“Comfy?” He asks after a long moment, slowly withdrawing his fingers from the heat of your mouth. You pout.
“I was.”
Spencer hums, eyes soft on you. “I don’t think I should be nurturing your oral fixation, angel.”
“You didn’t like it?” You challenge, turning your head inward to nose at his stomach. He cups your cheek with damp fingers and pointedly turns your head outward again. If he wasn’t so blushy and flustered and cute you might’ve cared more about the feeling of your own spit on your skin.
“Don’t make it about me.”
You allow a minute to pass in silence.
Fine.
“I liked it,” you say shyly.
Spencer’s response is deeply fond as he smiles down at you. “Did you?”
Like he couldn’t tell.
“Mhm. You should let me do it all the time.”
His smile flickers wider the way it does when he’s about to tease you.
“I don’t know if you deserve it. I don’t know if you can be good all the time.”
You make a face. “Shut up.”
“Is that what we say when we want something?” Before he can pull his hand away, you nip at his fingers. He laughs. “You’re off to a terrible start. I think you need to work on your manners. Not bite the hand that… goes in your mouth.”
“Is that the saying?”
“I’m pretty sure,” he nods sarcastically, helping you up until you’re sitting across his lap. He lovingly tucks hair behind your ear, eyes warm as they flit across your face up close. “You know, that was incredibly unhygienic. So much bacteria it boggles the mind.”
“Yeah? That kinda turns me on.”
Spencer leans in to kiss you sweetly, choosing your mouth over his worry about bacterial transmission. “You are so psychologically concerning,” he whispers against your lips. You sling your arms around his neck.
“Because of the bacteria thing or the oral fixation thing?”
His hands settle on your hips. “Both, lovely. For so many reasons.”
It’s only another tease, but you pull back anyway so he can see the full force of your pout. “Don’t say that. It’s mean.”
“I was kidding! It was a joke. I was joking.”
“It was mean.”
“Okay,” Spencer begins, patient and happy to untangle this ridiculous snag if that’s what it takes to make you content again, “Freud’s psychosexual stages of development are contentious at best. I’m not worried about your oral fixation because I don’t really believe in such a thing. I was just teasing you, but I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”
“So you’ll let me do it again?”
Spencer pulls you back into another kiss.
“You’re kind of insatiable, you know that?”
When you don’t answer, only wait for him to respond, he sighs goodnaturedly.
“You know you can have any part of me whenever you want it.”
You give him a winning smile and kiss his cheek in reward.
“You’re so nice, Spence.”
“I thought I was mean.”
“Now you’re nice.”
“Because you got what you wanted?” You nod enthusiastically. He seems not quite as thrilled, though perhaps distantly amused by his own helplessness when it comes to you. “Yeah, I feel like that happens a lot, doesn’t it?”
But it clearly doesn’t bother him that much. He’s still smiling when you kiss him again.
#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fic#spencer Reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine
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。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ 。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚。゚•┈꒰ა



゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ 。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚。゚•┈꒰ა
wings
in which mark meets someone with viltrumite-like powers — and has an angel’s wings?
invincible x fem!reader
warnings: world-building, smut fluff, not canon-compliant at all
inspired by kali uchis’s angel & igual que un angel
wc: 2800
“We don’t know exactly where she came from… but we do know she fell from an extreme height in the sky, or even space, down to Earth.”
Mark examines the hospital bed as he glances at Cecil with suspicion. He crosses his arms, puffing his chest out as he peers closer through the glass. It’s unlike Cecil to joke, much less about something as ridiculous as this.
“Do you realize what you’re telling me right now? Some girl with angel wings fell out of the sky suddenly? Is this some sort of prank?”
Cecil sighs, looking at his feet as he pinches the bridge of his nose.
“No, Mark. She fell in Chicago, and left a huge mess for us to clean up. But after everything that’s happened, who knows maybe she was sent here for a reason. God knows that the city needs something to believe in after all the destruction.”
Mark turns away from the glass, fidgeting as he looks at the ground.
“So why did you call me here? Is there some sort of problem with her?” Mark asks as he turns back to Cecil, sizing him up.
Their relationship was never a good one, but when Mark received a message that he needed his help with some sort of situation, he felt compelled to come to the Pentagon, despite their bad blood. There was some sort of unexplainable pull – a siren’s call urging him to listen for once to see what was happening. But maybe that gut feeling was wrong, since all Cecil had done so far was present to him some poor girl in a hospital gown hooked up to countless machines, her wings held tightly together with some sort of harness or tape so that they couldn’t take up too much space. They looked to be pretty big, a mixture of ivory and white but he couldn’t get too good of a look as she shifted in the cot.
“Well, we’ve been running some tests and found out some interesting information about whatever she might be. She’s incredibly strong, and if she wakes up on the wrong side of the bed could do some major damage, even more than when she fell. And –”
Mark scoffs, rolling his eyes. Cecil gives him a look before continuing, “Mark, we believe the powers she possesses aren’t that far off from your own, or even Atom Eve’s. She can make beams of pure light, heal herself, and even though she’s unconscious has some ability to sense and manipulate the emotions of those around her. Don’t ask how we found that out.”
Mark raises his eyebrows in confusion looking back toward the girl behind the glass.
“I see. What do you want me to do about it?”
“Well, the reason you turned out so…you is because of your mother and the fact that you got to experience humanity. So, show her how to be human.”
Mark stutters out, “Huh!? Do you want me to play house with her and show her the ropes of being normal? I’m the last person who could do that!”
Cecil rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “What I really want is for you to let her stay at your home for a bit, let her experience some normalcy. For all we know she could be here to take over Earth. Or because it’s some sort of punishment. Just let Debbie talk to her at least. She’s doing a pretty good job with Oliver so far.”
“You want me to let her stay with my family? No way–”
“I already spoke to Debbie and she said she doesn’t mind. Even though the girl has powers, she could’ve used them in far worse ways and hasn’t yet. She just crashed here, passed out upon impact and has been sleeping since. But we think she’ll wake up soon.”
As soon as Cecil finished speaking, Mark heard the sounds of the monitors behind the glass beeping rapidly. He watched as you woke up slowly, rubbing your eyes, stretching your arms, pushing against the restraints against your wings until you looked to your back in confusion. You examined your surroundings before landing on Mark and Cecil, walking towards the glass, tapping on it tentatively.
Mark looks you up and down as you stare back at him with curiosity. There’s definitely something otherworldly in the way you move, not to mention your looks. Such beautiful eyes, a shine in them that gleams as he finally makes eye contact with you. There’s a strange swirling in his stomach – but that was probably just your powers.
You tilt your head, eyeing Mark in his suit. The way his muscles ripple, material spread taut along the span of his shoulders and his sharp jawline visible – but you can’t see his eyes. You huff and turn away from the glass.
“Where’s Donald? He always spoke to me. You just stare and this one I’ve never met before,” You say as you conjure up a beam of light that cuts through the bindings holding your wings together.
“He’s busy. And you have someone new to talk to: Mark Grayson,” Cecil introduces, patting Mark on the back before opening up the door to your room, ushering Mark in. He bristled as the door slammed shut behind him, effectively trapping him and you together.
The air felt different suddenly. Electric. He watched in awe as you stretched and unfurled your wings a few feathers falling and landing gracefully. They seemed to somehow shimmer despite the sterile lighting and looked impossibly soft. He met your eyes seeing a vulnerability in your gaze that hadn’t been there before. But as soon as it appeared it faded away as you spoke.
“So they want you to be my babysitter? The customs of my people are not that different from yours. But you’re not completely human, are you Mark Grayson?” You asked your eyes never leaving him as you walked around him, examining him. You went to grab his goggles off of his face before he swatted you away.
“No, no I’m not. But I’m not going to treat you like a child. Cecil just wants me to… help you adjust to life here on Earth.”
“Oh.” You looked away from his eyes standing in front of him with your arms crossed. “I may have just awoken, but I know many things. Your kind– your father’s kind are the reason I’m here. But I…I can’t remember what exactly happened to my….” You trailed off, a hand coming to your face as you turned your back to him, wings filling his vision completely.
Mark wanted to reach out, to comfort you somehow but he didn’t know what to do. “I can guarantee you, that I am nothing like my father, or any Viltrumite,” he spat the word out in disgust.
You turned back around, conjuring a small beam of light that reached out to him, and he froze. Were you going to attack him? Instead, the light shaped into a hand-like shape, its fingers taking off his mask and goggles and placing them gently onto your cot. You waved the beam away as you walked towards him again, finally completely face to face with him. In the silence there was an understanding and again, that pulled towards you to let you do whatever you wanted with him, to him, and he felt frozen in place.
“A heart like yours has gone extinct among the Viltrumites, if it ever even existed in the first place. And my own I think is what caused me to be sent here. I won’t harm you Mark.”
In your luminous eyes he saw his own and relief washed over him. A heart like his? He wasn’t sure if whatever you were sensing was a result of your powers or just sweet talk. But he was definitely looking forward to learning more about you.
“You think you’re here because of Viltrumites?” he asked as he shifted under your gaze.
“I think so. Whatever my purpose is, it’s tied to you and this planet. But it’s as though a fog has been placed over my mind, I-I can’t completely remember. I do remember falling, sorry about that,” You played with the end of your hospital gown nervously. “But I feel it in my chest, in my soul that I’m in the right place.”
You smiled gingerly at him, something new in your eyes. Embarrassment, maybe from the fall and having been so close to him.
“Alright. If you’re going to live with me and my family there’s a few rules that need to be laid out.”
Mark wasn’t kidding when he said there were lots of rules for you to follow. Despite being under Cecil’s watchful eye regardless, Mark made sure to keep tabs on your whereabouts and what you were doing as much as he could. You spent a lot of time at his home, helping Debbie with dinner, watching and spending time with Oliver, becoming a role model and friend to him. You especially liked playing sports with him, and flying since he was so curious about your wings. They also fascinated Debbie, the only person you had let touch them, feeling a sense of comfortability only a mother could create. It was fleeting, but it was a sign that you were embracing this new life, something you explained to Mark after she had rubbed the space between them on a night when you were feeling homesick, not having left your bed all day.
In a way, you just fit into his home, his family so well, he couldn’t help as that pull towards you, grew into a sense of affection and fondness. And that feeling was tested one day when Mark went up against a particularly strong villain.
Mark really hadn’t expected the guy to be so strong. He was facing punch after punch, being beaten into the ground late at night when he looked towards the sky and saw… it had to be–
A blinding beam of light exploded, shattering nearby windows, the force pushing the attacker away. Somehow you had created a cell of light that he was now trapped in, hearing his shouts of pain and the sizzling of skin as he tried to get out.
“Mark! I saw what was happening and had to help–I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner,” You exclaimed as your hand hovered above the center of his forehead. His limbs and face tingled as he closed his eyes, succumbing to the feeling that began to roll over him in crashing waves of tenderness, softness. Your healing powers began to take effect as he felt himself finally able to sit up.
“T-Thank you, angel…” He coughed as he looked toward you, a vulnerability in your eyes that was reserved only for him.
You wrapped your arms around him tightly, melting into him as you scratched at the hairs near the nape of his neck. That felt good…
“I was so scared, Mark. Please–Please you have to let me and Oliver help you. Don’t ever go off on your own like this again!” You let go of him as you looked into his eyes, scolding him. Your gleaming eyes seemed to glow in the moonlight, eyes shining with tears. One fell, Mark carefully brushing it away as he cupped your face delicately.
“I’m sorry. Let’s go home, angel.”
Instead of staying in your own bed that night, you ended up in Mark’s, tending to his lingering aches and pains wearing one of his shirts that you cut the back off to make room for your wings. You began rubbing his back, relaxing him further before he moved to face you.
After what had happened, he knew he had to do something, to finally act on whatever it was lingering between you. You looked at him, as curious as the first time you met and tilted your head so cutely.
“Is something wrong, Mark? Was I too rough?”
He waved his hand away, dismissing what you had said.
“No, never angel. It’s just I was thinking and maybe I could…” He took a deep breath before taking your hand into his, “Maybe I could help you relax too? Could I touch your wings?”
You offered a coy smile, eyes downcast. You looked up into his eyes, watching as his face bloomed into a timid smile matching your own. You nodded, before saying, “I might need some help, you know,” You gestured to your–no, his shirt. You turned your back to him, crossing your arms as you moved to take it off, Mark rushing to help you.
“O-Oh yeah, of course.”
He helped you take it off carefully, the expanse of your back visible to him, wings unfurling and fluttering coquettishly. His hands hovered as he took in the sight before him. He could also see the soft curve of your breasts, but they became obscured as you crossed your arms.
“You can touch me. I trust you, Mark.”
He swallowed, before rubbing the space in between your wings watching as you rolled your neck. The skin there was soft, and he moved to touch where your wings protruded from your back. You shifted, a small noise of pleasure escaping from your mouth.
He continued, stroking the feathers of your wings as he felt you relax, slumping slightly. They were so soft, so delicate and yet he could feel the strong hard muscle lying underneath. He began to massage the space beneath where your wings came out from your back and you whimpered, wings fluttering and stretching out further. You moved to clasp a hand over your mouth in shame before Mark leaned into your back whispering against your ear, his voice seeming to deepen.
“It’s okay, baby. Let me hear you, angel. Can I keep touching you? Somewhere else, maybe?”
“Y-yes, please,” you whined quietly, music to his ears.
Mark reached around from behind you to cup your breasts, feeling their weight between his hands. You turned your head to the side, the sensation engulfing you as he began to place soft kisses against your neck. He rolled a nipple between his fingers, pinching it as he began to nip and suck against your neck. His rough hands felt so good against your silky skin and he breathed in your sweet smell.
“You like that, angel?”
You nodded, crying out in pleasure, already sensitive from his hands on your wings.
“Use your words, sweet girl.”
“Mmmm, I love it. Please Mark, please,” you begged, unsure of what you were even chasing as his lips met yours in a searing kiss. Your tongues melded together as you brought your hand to run through his hair, your other becoming entwined with one of his hands still playing with your chest. The kiss continued, as Mark trailed his hands lower, pulling away to look into your eyes, asking for permission. The hand in his hair left, guiding it to the heaven between your legs as you began to grind against his hand.
“Angel, you’re so wet.”
He lovingly caressed you, rubbing against your clit over your panties as he pulled you into another kiss, swallowing your moans. He rubbed faster, as your breathing became heavier, pleasure overwhelming your senses.
“Mark–!” you cried out as a final warning before complete bliss filled your senses, wings spreading as far as they could, the downy feathers glowing. The room was illuminated as you came down from your high, slouching into his embrace as you rested your head against his shoulder. He kissed your temple as you felt something warm and hard…and wet against your backside.
“Mark, did you…?” You looked into his tired eyes as he looked to the ceiling in embarrassment.
“I-I couldn’t help it!” He stuttered out as you shifted, your bodies moving against the bed until you were on top of him, straddling him.
Your eyes shimmered as you splayed your hands across his chest, kissing him sweetly. Whatever this was– at first it felt inevitable, inescapable. But now you knew that you two were meant to be, a connection, a binding of hearts that were meant to connect in one way or another. It just happened to be like this. He looked at you as you used your powers to convey this feeling, eyes softening even further if possible, as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, placing his hands on your hips and squeezing.
You laid on top of him, your wings creating a sort of cocoon around you both as you whispered into his ear as he had before your voice sultry and yet sweet, “It’s okay, baby. Now I get to return the favor.”
You two were in for a very, very, long night.
a/n: if you made it this far, thank you for reading! this is my longest fic to date and i hope you all enjoy it!! i'd love to maybe make this a series of sorts w/ supernatural reader so lmk what you'd like to see; i'm also going to begin working on that hercules!au but please send in requests and inspo, i'd love to hear your thoughts!!
#invincible#invincible smut#invincible x reader#invincible season three#invincible show#invincible x y/n#invincible x you#mark grayson x you#mark grayson fluff#mark grayson smut#mark grayson x reader#mark grayson#angst#fluff#fanfiction#amazon prime#prime vide#mark grayson angst#mark grayson x fem!reader#smut#lemon#x reader#fanfic#i’m in
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Eroverse
Pt.6 - Resistance
ft. Karina

Family reunions can be awkward.
But none can rival this one.
Eros looks like he's going to throw up any moment - his face white as a sheet of paper. His eyes dart from Karina's face to yours. Then to the scattered naked bodies of the hunters and back to Karina's face.
“Answer me. What is this madness?”
Karina asks, the anger evident in her voice - brewing and crackling like a storm right there in the room. Her normally perfect features are twisted to a scowl that could melt any mortal into a puddle. If looks could kill, Eros would’ve been a goner five times over.
But you are now experienced enough to realize that the idol before you is indeed not an idol at all. You are not a mythology nerd but you have a vague picture of what Karina actually is.
The tingly feeling on your skin: check.
Looking like an idol: check.
Anger issues: check.
Yes. Definitely a goddess (both literally and metaphorically in this case).
“Uh….”
Eros, the literal god of love, who can make an army swoon with a wink, looks like a kid caught stealing candy. His face is pale, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. For a second, you wonder if you should step in and help, but then you remember: this is Eros’s mess. You have just narrowly escaped being slaughtered by a goddess. You are not gonna try to relive the experience.
“Mom…I…” he finally croaks, his voice cracking like a teenage boy’s.
Karina’s expression darkens. “Don’t you ‘Mom’ me, Eros,” she snaps. “Do you have any idea what you have done?”
Eros glances at you and Kazuha for backup. You give him a look that says Oh, no way, buddy. You are on your own. Kazuha seems to share your opinion but her eyes betray no emotion. You doubt even Eors’ most loyal angel is enthusiastic about dealing with an angry goddess. Especially not after what she has just gone through. Eros’s shoulders slump, realizing there’s no easy way out of this. He shuffles his feet, suddenly very interested in the floor.
“Look, it’s not that bad-” he starts.
Karina’s laugh cuts him off, sharp and humourless. “Not that bad? NOT THAT BAD? You don’t know what you are doing, Eros. You are tampering with powers you don’t understand. Stealing the helm of darkness? Doing…,” she eyes the naked spent body of Artemis aka Chaewon with disgust. “this to a daughter of Zeus? You are lucky you are not already in Tartarus”
“Mom, you don’t understand. I-”
But once again, Karina doesn’t give him a chance to speak. “And that mortal,” her gaze falls on you and you are suddenly made aware that being butt naked isn’t the best attire for a meeting with an angry goddess. In her elegant white dress, Karina may be otherworldly beautiful but the fury in her eyes is absolutely terrifying, like she can burn you to ash right on the spot. And there’s no promise that wouldn’t be the case. “has the mark of Asmodeus. The mark, Eros. Do you understand how dangerous it is? Or do you think this is another of your funny little party tricks?”
“Hey!” you protest. “I’m literally right here”
Karina shot you a look so sharp you instantly regret speaking. “Quiet, mortal. We will deal with you later”
You swallow hard and try to disappear into a wall. No such luck.
Eros raises his hands in surrender, backing up like a guy caught sneaking past curfew. “Okay, okay, I messed up! I get it, alright? But I have a plan”
Karina looks like she’s going to blow up, any moment. Her eyes, full of fury before, now seem to hold flames within. If it’s Eros’s nonchalance that sets her off or something else, you can’t be sure.
Perhaps sensing that things are going to get out of hand, Kazuha finally breaks her silence. “Your grace, ma’am Aphrodite, if I may-”
“Hold your tongue too, angel!” Karina snaps back and Kazuha gaze falls to the floor, silenced.
Lucky for you, though, because you no longer need to ask Kazuha which goddess it is again (that is, if she’s even in the mood to answer). Aphrodite, of course. It’s an easy guess,really. Who else is there aside from the goddess of beauty to take on the form of one of the top visuals of 4th gen? Even you, whose knowledge on mythology is pitiful, know that much.
Karina - no, Aphrodite - continues. “A plan?” She takes a slow, measured step towards Eros. The whole room suddenly feels hotter and you swear you are not imagining the goosebumps on your skin. She’s mad mad. “You mean the kind of plan that could unravel the balance of the cosmos, Eros? That kind of plan?”
Eros holds her gaze for a moment, then shrugs, forcing his usual smirk back onto his face. “When you put it like that, it sounds really bad ”
Karina doesn’t blink. “Because it’s really bad”
You stand off to the side, feeling like an unwanted extra in a godly family drama. It’s not everyday you see a goddess scolding her son like he’d forgotten to take out the trash - except, in this case, the trash might be something on a cosmic scale.
“So, give me a good reason Eros,” Aphrodite stops, exhaling sharply through her nose. “Or I will hand you to Zeus with my own hands”
For the first time since this whole thing started, Ero’s jolly persona is nowhere to be found. He seems to be contemplating, brows furrowed and lips stretched tight. The god of love has never looked this serious.
Finally, Eros lifts his eyes back upon Karina’s face. “Because we deserve better’” he says, and his voice, though quiet, is steady. “You deserve better”
Aphrodite’s expression froze, like she has not been expecting that.
Eros takes a step closer, his tone shifting - softer now, almost coaxing. You wonder if the ability comes with being a love god. “You were the first, mom. The first Olympian. The oldest. You were there before any of those old nutjobs were born”
The sky crackles with thunder at that, as if Zeus himself has heard Eros. And you are suddenly aware that the scenery beyond the glass has shifted - now displaying ancient Greek in its full glory, with its marble temples and bronze sculptures. The place looks eerily beautiful, deprived of people.
But Eros doesn’t seem to give two fucks about what the king of gods think, because he continues. “And yet, look where you stand now - beneath him. Beneath all of them,” his voice drips with venom. “Is that fair?”
Aphrodite is silent for a moment, then she lets out a weak chuckle. “This is crazy. You are crazy”
Nonetheless, Eros presses on. “What I’m doing….what I’ve set in motion…it’s not just for me. It’s for you. For us”
So that’s it, you think. Everything you have done so far, every near death experience you have survived; it’s all just for Eros to gain his mom’s approval. A desperate attempt of a wayward son for recognition. And you have gladly gone along with it.
You feel really stupid. But it’s too late to back out now. Because the power…..it’s addicting.
Aphrodite doesn’t speak. But she’s no longer furious, now. She’s interested. She’s listening.
Eros tilts his head towards you. “And he is the key”
You have a sudden horrible feeling that you are standing on the edge of something massive, something you weren't supposed to understand.
If Eros plans to dethrone the gods with your abilities, you doubt the outcome would be pretty. Sure, you can make goddesses and angels become your cocksleeves with your magical dick, but even that isn’t without a fight. You will literally have no chance against all the Olympians. And the mere thought of using your powers on any male god makes you shudder. Even your perverted mind has its limits.
Karina studies you as if she has read your thoughts, before turning back to Eros. “You are not the first to try” she begins slowly. “And you won’t be the first to fail. Lust can be a powerful weapon if you wield it correctly, but this? This is madness”
Eros doesn’t respond. For once, he doesn’t have a clever remark or a lazy smirk.
Aphrodite lets out a sigh. “Clean up this mess,” she gestures to the naked, spent bodies of the hunters and Artemis. “If anyone asks, I’ve never been here, got it? I’ll be watching, Eros”
And with a swish of her dress, she heads to the doorway she has come from. In an instant, the room erupts in a blinding light once more. Unfortunately, you make the mistake of staring too long and the luminous rays scorch your eyes before you shut them tight.
It takes a while for you to blink out the white spots dancing across your vision. But when you finally regain perfect sight, Aphrodite is gone.
Everything is still for a moment, before it’s broken by Eros’s voice.
“Well,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “That could’ve gone worse”
You don’t answer. You can’t.
Because now, the exhaustion is hitting you all at once. The battle in Artemis’s verse, the fatigue that follows the mark’s activation, the sheer weight of what you’ve been thrown into - it crashes over you like a tidal wave. Your body feels like lead, every muscle burning, every bone aching.
The world tilts.
You sway on your feet, gripping your side as your vision blurs. Someone - Kazuha? - says your name, but it’s distant, muffled, like a sound travelling through water. Your knees buckle, and the last thing you hear before the darkness takes you is Eros’s voice, sounding oddly far away.
“Guess we push him a little too hard”
And then – nothing.
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
After seeing skeletons and three headed beasts in your dreams for weeks in a row, you already know what to expect when you are beyond your consciousness. Or maybe, something far worse.
But this time, it’s different.
The material beneath you is soft, a stark contrast to the cold, hard ground you remember collapsing on. Blinking against the golden light filtering from above, you push yourself up slowly, your muscles still aching from…everything.
The room around you is massive, circular, its marble walls pristine and smooth, interrupted only by tall pillars that stretch towards a domed ceiling. It reminds you of Persephone’s chamber in the underworld, the only difference being its cold, dreadful atmosphere replaced by a cheerful one.
The air smells of salt and roses, an odd combination that somehow makes sense. Sunlight streams in through openings between the pillars, casting shifting patterns across the polished floor.
You look at yourself. Your body is still bare, but it’s not misty and see through like back in your visit to the underworld. So, you are not dead yet. That’s a relief.
But you have learnt that if something looks remotely safe or welcoming in this world, it mostly isn’t. So you try to be cautious. As cautious as someone who’s butt naked and defenseless can be.
You are starting to contemplate whether you should just go back to sleep when you see her.
Karina, leaning against one of the pillars, dresses in a different outfit now - a white tank top, perfectly fitted jeans, and sneakers that look too clean to have ever touched mortal ground. It’s nothing godly but her beauty never fails to shine through, betraying her divinity.
“You’re awake,” she notes, her voice smooth, unimpressed.
You sit up stiffly, wincing at the stiffness in your limbs. “Am I dreaming?”
“Sorta” She tilts her head slightly, regarding you like an interesting specimen. “I borrow your soul for a while”
You don’t really understand what she means but decide not to raise questions. Not out of fear but rather, the curiosity of why she has brought her here in the first place.
“I have come to offer you a gift,” Karina says, answering your thoughts.
You blink, unsure you have heard her right. “A gift?”
She hums in confirmation, but doesn’t elaborate.
You hesitate, sensing a trap somewhere in her offer. “Why?”
She doesn’t answer straight away. Instead, she studies you, her gaze sharp and knowing. And then, with the faintest of smirks, she says, “Because I feel like it”
No way you are buying that.
Your mind races back to her confrontation with Eros, how she has despised his plan to dethrone the gods. “I thought you don’t agree with Eros’s plan” you say, watching her carefully.
Her smile doesn’t falter, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She shrugs. “I didn’t say that”
That throws you off. “So you agree?”
Another shrug. “I didn’t say that either”
You stare at her, frustration creeping in. “That’s not an answer”
Aphrodite sighs, folding her arms. “No, it’s not”
She steps closer, stopping just at the edge of the bed. From this distance, you can see the way the lights catch in her dark eyes, how they shimmer like a vortex of jewels. She looks casual, relaxed even, but you can sense it’s all a mask to hide something deeper.
“You think the power you have now is impressive?” she asks. “That little trick you pulled on Artemis? That’s nothing”
You frown. “Nothing?”
She chuckles, shaking her head. “A fraction. A sliver. The barest hint of what you are capable of” Her assessing gaze hovers over you, like she’s imagining what you have become. “Right now, you are a candle in the dark. But given time….you could be a wildfire”
More power. That’s exactly what you are afraid of. If you have already developed the thirst for the mark, you wonder what will become of you if its power grows. Will you even be human?
You swallow hard. “And, you’re just telling me this out of the kindness of your heart, aren’t you?”
She smirks. “Oh, sweetheart. I don’t do anything out of kindness”
You don’t doubt that.
She steps back slightly, slipping her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “This gift I have planned to give you. It’s a taste of what to come”
You tense. “What kind of gift?”
She smiles, slow and deliberate. “A new ability. One you will unlock eventually. But I’m feeling generous today”
You don’t know if ‘generous’ is the right word. Whatever she’s offering, it’s not just for you. There’s something in it for her, too. There always is.
“What ability?” you ask carefully.
Karina’s smile deepens. “Let’s find out, shall we?”
And before you can react, she reaches out, pressing two fingers against your forehead.
The world tilts-
And everything explodes.
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
When everything stops spinning, the marble room is gone.
You blink. The soft glow of divine architecture is replaced by dim fluorescents of a….classroom. You find yourself seated in a chair of a location too familiar.
It’s the kind of room you have seen a thousand times before - rows of wooden desks, a blackboard at the front, a few motivational posters peeling off the walls. The faint scent of chalk and old textbook lingers in the air. Outside the window, the world is…nothing. Just an endless, swirling void.
You barely have time to process the shift before you hear the click of heels against the floor.
When you turn, your brain nearly short-circuits.
Karina is leaning against the teacher’s desk, arms folded, one leg crossed over the others. Only now, she’s not in her usual jeans and tank top. Instead, she’s dressed like every high school fantasy rolled into one - a tight white blouse, unbuttoned just enough to reveal her ample cleavage, a red plaid skirt that barely reaches mid-thigh, thigh-high stockings, and glossy black heels. She’s twirling a piece of hair around one finger, watching you with amusement.
You open your mouth. Nothing comes out.
She smirks. “Welcome to my verse”
Your brain is still buffering. “Your verse is a classroom?”
“For you,” she says, hopping up onto the desk and crossing her legs. “Unlike the others you have visited, mine is unique. Do you know why?” She leans forward slightly, her tits on the brink of spilling out from the fragile fabric. “It shifts and bends…according to the visitor’s deepest kink”
You stiffen. “That - that’s not true”
She raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Then why do I look like this?”
You have no answer.
Karina chuckles, tapping a finger against her temple. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart. The Verse doesn’t lie”
You swallow hard. “You - this - you are messing with me”
“Am I?” Her lips curve into something wicked. “Or are you just embarrassed that this is what your subconscious really wants?”
You are hard. So hard that it hurts. Your cock is rigid and springing up to its full length. With the lack of clothes, you have no way to hide your arousal. But you shove it down, trying to focus. “Why bring me here? What’s the point?”
Karina hums, swinging her legs idly. “I told you - I’m giving you a gift. But power is best awakened when you are completely in sync with your own desires” She tilts her head, watching your reaction carefully. “And nothing lays a person bare quite like this”
You want to deny her, try to compose yourself. But the truth is - she’s absolutely right. She’s pushing all the right buttons, using every buried fantasy of yours to her advantage. You know what’s coming next is inevitable, even with your lust hazed brain.
Karina slides off the desk with the grace of a predator, each step deliberate, heels clicking across the floor. Her eyes lock onto yours, and you find yourself rooted in place, unable to move.
She circles around you, like she’s sizing you up. Her fingers trail across your shoulder, down your arm, sending a shiver through your body. Her touch is light, teasing, but it feels like she’s peeling off layers you didn’t even know you had.
“You’re tense.” she whispers into your ear, her breath tickling your ear. Her hands rest on your shoulders, massaging gently, but there’s a weight to her touch that makes you weak. “You shouldn’t be”
You try to keep your breathing steady but it’s a losing battle. Her presence is overwhelming, seeping into your brain, clouding your thoughts.
“What are you doing?” you manage to ask, though your voice comes out shaky.
She chuckles softly, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I’m just showing you what you are capable of.” Her hands slide down your chest, pressing lightly, and you can feel your resolve wavering, crumbling under her touch. “You have so much potential, so much power. But it’s locked away because you’re afraid”
“I’m not-” you start, but she cuts you off, spinning you around to face her. Your eyes instinctively fall on her plentiful tits, which are now on full display from this new angle.
“Eyes up here, honey,” she cups your face, forcing you to meet her eyes. “You’re afraid of the power inside you. Afraid of what you could become. Afraid of losing control” Her thumbs brush over your cheek, her touch light yet commanding. “But power is only dangerous if you don’t understand it”
Everything she’s telling you could be a lie. But you no longer care. Because all you crave now is more of this, more of her touch, her breath, her warmth. Her hand slides down , resting against your chest, and you feel your heart pounding beneath her fingertips.
“What do you want, really?” she asks, her voice a soft purr. “To be free of this? To understand it? Or maybe…” Her lips curve into a knowing smile. “To embrace it?”
Your mind is spinning, her words digging deep, unraveling desires you didn’t know were there. She rests a hand on your thigh, tracing idle patterns on your skin. Yet, her eyes never leave you, holding you captive.
“Stop fighting it,” she breathes, her voice a soft command. “Let go”
You feel the last shed of your resistance crumbles to dust. It’s intoxicating, the way she breaks down your walls, knocking them over like mere toys. And you finally relent, letting go of the fear, the doubt.
“Good boy” she praises.
And that’s when she crushes your lips with hers.
It’s not love. Far from it. It’s not affection either. But it’s equally addicting, something you want more the moment you have its taste, like an oasis in the desert. And Karina doesn’t keep you thirsty. She keeps on kissing you, letting you busk in the feeling of her silky lips, moist and soft each time they make contact with yours. Her tongue slips out to seek yours and you happily let yourself be found, intertwining it with yours, tasting her.
Her hand on your thigh isn't still either, slithering its way upwards until it finally reaches the hardness between your legs, gripping the base. You let out a moan against her lips, as her grip tightens. She can feel you throbbing. You are sure of it. She can feel how desperately you need her.
She gives you a single stroke, her fist around your length pumping a single time. And that’s enough to set you off.
Your veins flood with power. Your whole body is enveloped in gold. The upside down pentagon on your pelvis glows brighter than ever. And your cock, looks like it can destroy armies (literally).
Karina pulls back, though your lips still connect with a string of saliva. The scene turns you on so much that if it’s not been the mark, you feel like your cock would go numb from throbbing.
“And we are back,” she muses, studying your cock like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “Look at this beautiful thing”
“You are not affected by the mark?” you ask, surprised. Persephone and Artemis have become slaves to the mark’s power as soon as it activates. But Aphrodite doesn’t seem fazed. In fact, she looks mesmerized.
“The mark only punishes those who try to fight it” she says, now stroking your shaft in an agonizingly slow pace. “I embrace it”
She’s still admiring your cock with sparkling eyes. You are used to people cowering before the mark with fear or sometimes even disgust that someone worshipping it is such a strange sight. On the other hand, perhaps, you are content that someone finally acknowledges its power instead of treating it like a curse.
“Only a fool would reject something this…divine,” she mutters dreamily, her digits tightening around your shaft. “This hard. This….big”
She places a single kiss on your tip and you swear you can see stars. You can feel her breath on your skin, the phantom warmth that precedes what comes next.
“May I suck your cock, sir?” she asks, voice dripping with feigned innocence.
She’s fueling your fantasy. If the settings and the outfit aren’t enough, she has decided to roleplay too. A roleplay that’s too accurate to be a roleplay.
“You may,” you reply. You don’t know if you are in the position to give orders, but if she’s really getting into this slutty schoolgirl act, you decide you’d better too. Afterall, it takes two to tango.
“Thanks, sir” And with that, her lips part around your tip, swallowing you inch by inch until half of your shaft has disappeared into her wet warmth. Her tongue swipes at your slit and the moans spill from you before you can control yourself.
Karina pulls back, a glint of something like victory in her eyes. “You need me that bad, sir? Need that big cock in my pretty mouth?”
You can’t voice an answer. Your brain is too jumbled to string coherent words. So you give her a single nod.
“I thought so,” she says as if it isn’t obvious before she welcomes your shaft back into her mouth again.
You throw your head back in mind-numbing pleasure. Everything feels so….surreal. Her lips gliding along your veiny shaft, her tongue that darts out so often to taste your leaking slit, the loud slurping sounds she’s probably making intentionally to rile you up.
It's a mess. It’s filthy. It’s everything you want.
The goddess of love herself is blowing your shaft. Or rather, Karina, the dream woman of million fans, herself has your cock in her mouth. You doubt both are luxuries that just anyone gets to experience.
Maybe Karina is just doing this for her benefit. It would be downright idiotic to think that a goddess would blow your cock for free. But right now, your mind is blank, focused on the single blissful feeling of Karina’s mouth working your length.
A loud gurgle escapes her lips when she swallows your whole shaft, nose pressed against your pelvis. The sudden, constricting warmth of her throat is unexpected. But when a goddess deepthroats you, you don’t complain.
She locks her gaze with yours as she holds your cock captive in her throat. Seconds pass but she shows no sign of backing out, still as determined as ever to keep you trapped in her tight warmth.
As for you, each second passed is another step to utopia, wishing this euphoric feeling never ends. Let her keep your cock warm forever.
But your hope quickly crumbles when she finally releases your cock, leaving it drenched in her drool. A waterfall of saliva stains her blouse, rendering it transparent to the point you can see the slightest hint of her rosy nipples.
“Oh, look like I’ve made a mess,” she says casually, like getting drool on your clothes is a normal occurrence. “I’d better clean up, hmm?”
You don’t understand what she’s talking about until she starts unbuttoning her shirt. Each loose button reveals more of her milky, round globes, peaking around the white fabric. She gets the job done quickly but it’s not like there’s much button left to begin with. Soon, her blouse lays a crumple heap on the floor.
“Like what you see?” she asks, like that’s even a question.
You are mesmerized. You can die happily now, you think. She may not be the real Karina but she’s still….well, Karina. And a full view of her glorious tits, which have their own fandom, is a privilege.
“Yeah…..” your voice comes out a shallow whisper, unable to think of anything except tits, tits and tits.
“Thought so,” she says, standing up and for a moment, you have a horrible thought that she’s gonna leave you like this - wanton and desperate. It’s exactly the kind of thing Aphrodite would do.
Luckily, she’s not feeling cruel today because she gets right back into her schoolgirl persona. “Say, sir. What do you think about stretching me out with that big cock?”
“You don’t even need to ask”
At your reply, Karina settles on your lap, facing you as she slowly guides your throbbing shaft inside her short skirt, her hands coming to rest on the nape of your neck. You watch your cock disappear into her red clothing, until you feel a wetness connect with your tip.
“Fill me up” And just like that, she sinks herself onto your shaft. You both let out a moan in unison. Her, from being utterly stretched out and you, from the way her walls squeeze your length.
Neither of you move for a second, adapting to this new position of depravity. But it doesn’t last long as Karina starts to roll her hips slowly. Your hands instinctively rest on her waist, guiding her movements.
“Fuck, you are so big. Even bigger than Ares…” she groans. You have no idea who she’s talking about but hey, a compliment’s still a compliment.
“Come on. You want those tits, don’t you?” she urges, pushing those busty globes into your face. And you gladly oblige, latching your lips onto one of her stiff nipples.
“Mhmm fuck” she groans as you swipe your tongue at her rosy bud before moving on to the other and doing the same thing. You decide not to be too greedy for now, devoting yourself to tasting one of her milkers, sucking and licking.
She writhes and trembles at the attention you are giving her tits, but her hip action doesn’t waver. She’s still riding you steadily, letting you enjoy her goddess pussy each time your shaft splits it open.
“God, your cock feels so good. So fucking big. Nghh…” She starts to pick up the pace, literally bouncing on your cock now as you turn your attention towards her unattended nipple, enjoying it the same way you did to its predecessor.
This double pleasure, that comes from both her tits and her pussy, can’t be described with words. It’s something beyond human comprehension that you doubt any other mortal could have gone through this and survive.
Her walls squeeze you just right, as if it has memorized every vulnerable spot, tackling with a precision that leaves your mind swimming.
Each time her ass crashes down onto your cock, she lets out a guttural moan. Her huge tits are jiggling so much now that it’s now impossible to put your mouth anywhere near. So you stop trying and enjoy the view.
You feel your body tingling with power, like a nuclear reactor on the verge of exploding. The glow on your pelvis grows brighter until it bathes the classroom in gold. Nevertheless, Karina is relentless - fucking herself on your throbbing cock like a bitch in heat. Who knows goddesses can be so beautiful yet so filthy?
But even the chosen one has his limits as you feel yourself spiralling to the inevitable end of this insatiable lust. The faint tingly feeling on your cock grows stronger until it’s overwhelming and soon, you unravel.
For a moment, all you can see is white as you unload spurt after spurt of your vile seed into Karina. It just keeps coming, everything stored in your balls, spilling into Karina’s cunt as she shudders from her own release. A few grunts follow as Karina rides you until she’s sure she has squeezed out the last drop of your load.
It takes a while to gather your thoughts.
When your senses finally return, Karina has returned to her earlier position on the desk, with the same cross-legged posture. The only difference being her tits out on display and the steady droplets of your cum dripping from under her skirt.
“Well,” she begins, not a hint of exhaustion in her voice, though sweat beads her temple and her hair has become a crumpled mess. “There’s your gift”
You blink. Karina has promised you a new ability but you don’t feel any different.
Then you realize.
You don’t feel any different.
Usually, extreme exhaustion, like you have run a marathon, follows after the mark’s power subsides. But this time, you don’t feel any of the fatigue, the weariness. Then you look down and find the answer.
The mark is still there. It has not disappeared like before. It’s not alight with power but it still glows a faint gold. Does it mean you can control it now?
“The mark….” you mutter.
“Indeed, the mark,” Karina agrees, amused at your realization. “Pretty handy, isn’t it? You don’t need to keep passing out every time you use it”
She is, no doubt, correct. Not only that you haven’t passed out but a fresh surge of energy has started travelling through your body. Your breath catches in your throat as another wave of arousal overwhelms you, and your cock springs up instantly from its limp form.
Karina smirks at the sight. “Easy there, tiger. Or we might stay in this verse forever”
This power. It’s pure and absolute. There’s no more doubt. No more fear. You have embraced what you are.
You are not a god. No. You are something far better. Something a thousand times more perfect. In no time, those who call themselves the divines will cower at your feet. In fact, they already are.
You are snapped out of your triumphant thoughts by the rattling sound of the desk as Karina slides down. She approaches you in slow and measured steps, like you are a bomb which can go off anytime.
“I’m sure we will meet again, Michael,” Karina says, inches away from you now. “For now, farewell”
Once again, she presses two fingers to your forehead.
And you spiral into an endless void.
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
As abruptly as it has started, you find yourself back in your room at Eros’s place. The dim glow of city light filters through the rain-streaked windows, casting shifting patterns on the walls. Outside, New York sprawls endlessly, neon signs flickering, car horns blaring faintly in the distance. The scenery has shifted again.
The storm hasn’t let up either. Rain drums steadily against the glass, its rhythm oddly soothing. You half expect to feel the ache and exhaustion after you have landed face first on the floor but instead, your body hums with a quiet, unfamiliar energy.
You feel better than you have been in days. Better than you should.
Pushing yourself up from the bed, you flex your fingers, testing the sensation. No soreness, no aches. If anything, you feel sharper, like a blade freshly honed.
Suddenly, a chime pulls you from your thoughts.
You glance to the nightstand, where your phone screen glows softly in the dim room. A single notification sits at the top: a dark heart icon from the app you are too familiar with - the Ero app.
New ability acquired.
You snort, but the amusement fades the second you swipe open the screen and catch sight of the new wallpaper.
A bright, obnoxious Hello Kitty background stares back at you.
You sigh “Eros, you motherfuck-”
Shaking your head, you open the app - the same one that dragged you into this whole mess - and freeze.
It’s different.
Before, the Ero app was nothing more than a sleek, minimalistic portal. No menus, no settings - except for some occasional forewords about your quests. But now, the interface has shifted.
At the center of the screen is you. Or at least, a stylized version of you, shirtless, standing with an aura of gold swirling around you. Below it, your Profile is displayed, listing your Abilities in neat, glowing text.
Lust Epidemic. That must be the one which got the hunters acting like bitches in heat.
Domination. You are puzzled for a moment, then remember the mark you have imprinted upon Chaewon, turning her into your obedient slave.
And last but not least.
Endless Ardor. The one Aphrodite has granted.
And then, farther down-
You narrow your eyes.
A section labeled “Goddesses Conquered”.
The figures of Shuhua(Persephone), Chaewon(Artemis) and Karina(Aphrodite) are there, fitted in borders of golden hue. But the rest? Locked Silhouettes, dark and shadowed, their names blurred.
This looks like something out of an rpg game except that everything is real.
At the bottom, something else catches your eyes. A meter labeled Perfection.
It’s at 10%.
You stare at it, a strange unease creeping in. Perfection? What is that supposed to mean? And why does it feel like the app is tracking something you don’t fully understand yet?
Before you can think further, the door swings open.
Eros strides in, smelling like he has drowned in every perfume known to man, dressed in fresh clothes - ripped jeans and a loose button-down that hangs open just enough to be obnoxious. He grins like he owns the place. Which, considering this is his place, might not be far from the truth.
“Morning sunshine,” he drawls. “I come bearing a gift”
You raise an eyebrow. “A gift?”
Eros steps aside and the angel enters.
Kazuha walks in, looking clean and fresh. The wounds on her body are nowhere to be seen. She’s dressed like some kind of agent - fitted tank top, dark jeans and combat boots. Though you have to admit she looks insanely hot, that’s not what catches your attention. It’s what she’s holding.
A leash.
Connected to a collar.
Wrapped around Chaewon’s neck.
You are speechless. The once proud goddess of the hunt, stands on all fours, no different from a dog. There’s not a piece of clothing on her except for the collar around her neck. She stares at you with curiosity, but the fire in her eyes is gone, replaced by utter and complete obedience. Somehow, you get a feeling she’s awaiting an order.
Your order.
Eros chuckles, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “Congratulations, buddy. You have officially tamed a goddess”
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
This one takes quite a while because I have been procrastinating. Thankfully, I get into the mood for some mythological action again. Enjoy.
#girl group smut#male reader#kpop smut#karina smut#aespa smut#lesserafim smut#chaewon smut#kazuha smut#kpop fanfic
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Cuddling By The Fireplace🧡 - Alastor X Female Reader
❥Summary: It's fall season now, which means the air in Hell will get much colder. Thank god, the hotel has a fireplace.
❥Tags: Alastor x Female Reader, Flufftober, Cuddling, Snuggling, Fireplace, October, Flufftober 2024, Fluff, So Much Fluff.
❥Notes: Needed me some flufftober with Alastor. Enjoy!
Grabbing a piece of wood from the pile, you moved it slowly to the burning flames in the fireplace, small fire sparks crackling out. "That should be enough", you thought, as you slowly motioned to stand back up, maneuvering to your cozy section on the couch. Autumn had slowly creeped its way to hell, as the air was becoming more chiller, and some of the hellish trees were getting a change in color. It still surprised you that hell could even experience seasonal change, since you always believed it was a fiery molten pit, with blazing flames everywhere, but well you were proven wrong.
The other residents of the hotel noticed the sudden change, and began to slowly adapt to it. The others began to wear more comfortable clothing like sweaters and cardigans, especially Angel Dust since you often some him wearing really revealing clothing, but even he couldn't deal with the new chilly weather. Charlie, being the sweetheart that she is, went out of her way to get everyone new fall attire and also provide more blankets and comfy decor for there rooms since it was especially more colder at night. Alastor had pitched in as well, maybe not as much as Charlie, but he expanded his powers to create a warm fireplace in the lobby of the hotel, which everyone appreciated, including you. Everyone had retired for the night, except you, as you found yourself unable to snooze, so you decided to head to the lobby, hoping the warmth from the fireplace would help you nod off.
Upon reaching the couch, you threw yourself onto it, grabbing the fluffy blanket that Charlie had gifted you and wrapped it around yourself. Letting out a sigh, you leaned back, head placed on the couch cushion, as your eyes were trained onto the fire, watching the flames dance and twirl. The cracking of the wood burning and glowing effect provided a comforting atmosphere for you, as your eyes watched on, entranced.
Waves of static had merged itself with the sounds of the burning wood. Turning your head to the right, the empty area of the lobby was now accompanied by the radio demon himself. He was still in his regular suit, as he often said he didn't really sleep, so he found no need to change unless he felt like it. Crimson eyes were gazing at the fire, before they made their way towards you, watching you. "Good evening, my dear. I take it, you also are having trouble getting some proper shut-eye, hmm?" Alastor bent at the waist, smile widening as he continued to look at you. Wrapping the blanket tighter around you, your eyes gazed into Al's softly, giving him a kind smile, "Yeah, I was thinking maybe using the fireplace would help make me more tired. Thanks again for making this" Alastor appeared quite pleased, happy that you were appreciating what he did. It was only a simple trick, but the others were very thankful for it, even though he knows they wouldn't say it outright to him, except maybe Charlie.
"You're quite welcome, my dear.", his smile had softened, as he turned back to gaze at the fire, straightening back up with his hands behind his back. The both of you remained quiet after that, listening to the sounds of the fireplace and the small bursts of static coming off from Al. Moving more to the left of the couch, you lifted the blanket up, inviting Al into the warm cocoon. "Join me?" His ears twitched at your words, moving his head back towards you - eyebrow lifted as he was contemplating it. Eyes widening, you quickly realized your mistake, forgetting the extreme dislike for touch that Alastor made well known to everyone. The hand that lifted up the blanket slowly began to drop, until Al spoke. “Very well," he responded, as he moved closer to where you were on the couch.
Grabbing the lifted blanket, he slowly sat on the couch, moving the cover to wrap around his back. His legs crossed one on top of the other and his hands were placed against his lap, his whole body stiff as a statue. He hadn’t turn to look at you when he did that, his eyes continuing to stare at the fire. Heaving a sigh, you uttered an apology, earning a confused look from Al, as his head swiveled towards you, “Why are you apologizing?” Looking up at him, you opened your mouth to speak, but words failed you, so you casted your head down - ashamed. “I understand I have made you uncomfortable and it wasn’t my intention to do that. J-just…. I’ve never seen you physically relax and wind down after a long day and I thought maybe you joining me might help with that…I don’t know…I’m sor-”
A warm hand had placed itself on your chin, turning it around to face the red deer man. “You did no such thing, darling.” His hand ventured from your chin to your cheek, giving it a soft rub. Al began to turn back to look at the fire, his hand dropping from your cheek, making you a bit sad at the loss of contact. “I will admit though, it has been difficult for me to, what’s the word? Adapt…to these sorts of things. Centuries of mutilating and torturing my prey on my broadcasts can do that." His sharp row of teeth had disappeared, as his lips drew into a more somber smile, allowing you to see more of the true side of Alastor. His eyes turned back towards you, illuminating your face. "It may take some time for me to get a grasp of all this. However, I don't mind this current situation." His body was still stiff, but he had unhooked his legs, signifying that he was trying to somewhat relax.
Hands twiddling under the blanket, you looked at Alastor, words fumbling from your mouth. "C-can I come closer?" Silence was the answer that you received from Alastor. He didn't speak, but he was able to respond with a soft nod. Moving slowly, you began to inch closer and closer towards Al, eyeing him to notice any signs of discomfort from your actions. Two sets of hands had grabbed at your waist, lifting you up a bit, placing you on his lap. The blanket was then wrapped around the both of you, warming the both of you up. "Al! What are you doing?" You gazed up at Al in shock, not expecting him to do that. Alastor tilted his head, "Why, you wanted to get closer. Isn't this what you meant?" Well, he wasn't wrong, but you expected laying your head on his shoulder, not being seated on his lap. "W-ell yes, just wasn't expecting this"
Al noticed your flustered state, making him chuckle. His hands remained wrapped around your back, allowing him to pull you closer, your head being placed on his chest. His cheek was place against the top part of your head, allowing him to nuzzle against it softly. Despite being shy at the situation, you melted at the soft actions he was doing to you. Copying him, you nuzzled against his chest, listening closer to the static coming off from him, and breathing in his scent. "You smell nice" His chest vibrated with laughter, amused at your comment. "What a peculiar thing to compliment someone about." Heat rushed to your cheeks, burying your face in his chest to hide yourself from him, yet he could probably spot the red coloring of your ears. Laughing at your adorableness, he moved his hand to place it against your cheek, wanting your eyes to look up at him "You can't hide from me, my dear. You said something along the lines of "I smell nice." Care to tell me more about that?" He was loving this, giving how wide his smile was, eyes as well, glowing with amusement. Seeing no way out of this, you decided to give him an honest answer. "Well...um...you have kind of a earthy scent. Like the smell of pine trees in a forest. It's very pleasing."
As you were explaining it to Alastor, his smile had soften, his hand continuing to caress your cheek. "There! That wasn't so hard, was it?" Still embarrassed, you shook your head to remove his hand, returning back into his chest. Chuckling again, his cheek continued to rub against your hair. "Wildflowers" you heard him say. Removing your head slowly, your eyes gazed up at him, "Huh?" His nose began to trace slowly along your hair, you swear you heard him inhale. "Your scent reminds me of wildflowers. Reminds me of the ones that use to grow in my mother's garden. Sweet and oh so delicate." His voice had dropped an octave when he said this, sending shivers down your back. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. If you weren't sitting on his lap right now, you would have collapsed on your knees at him saying that. "Thanks," was your response to him, face nuzzling further into his chest. He let out a hum, as he continued to do the same to you.
The both of you remained cuddled next to each other, wrapped in each others and the blankets warmth, as the glowing flames from the fireplace continued to dance. Alastor's hand was tracing circles on your back; the sensation drawing a yawn from you as your ears picked up on the sounds of his static heart beating. Your breaths had slowed, eyelids becoming heavy, and little by little, you fell into a deep sleep, cuddling with Alastor. Feeling your body relax, his arms tightened around you, hugging you closer to himself. "Sweet dreams, Y/N."
-END-
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moonlight serenade or the first time reader has sex with dallas winston...
okay first let’s get this out of the way, yes i’m a minor but everyone’s aged up in this fic so don’t come for me. please don’t comment trying to police what’s appropriate for me and what’s not i’m seventeen and where i live i can legally have sex so it’s really not that deep. i’m a young woman - i’m exploring my desires in a healthy safe way and if you cannot shake this livid rage coursing through you maybe try touching some grass. xxx
this fic absolutely could not have been written with out the help of @avroravia she not only proofread it but also edited it and just offered me constant encouragement and support. basically she is just an absolute angel and i implore you to go read her fics right after you finish this 😛 amar thank you and i luv u
warnings: bad writing? (baby’s first time writing smut), um smut obvs (you are responsible for your own media consumption), fem! reader, characters are aged up, reader is a virgin, kinda dom dallas ig tho this wasn’t planned it just happened that way, 2,690 words <3
there is something poetically erotic about dallas winston.
you have known this since the day first saw him: his eyes wild and dark, his grin crooked and breath smelling of whiskey. he is animalistic in his vigor, a power that simmers and hums through his body so that you might think he was the devil. it is beautiful in a twisted way and right now you are more aware of this than ever.
shadows are cast across his face, and he leans over you in nothing but his oil stained wifebeater and jeans. he's smiling down at you, tickling you with kisses along your neck. this is as far as you've gone and because of your lack of experience as far as you've wanted to go for a long time. but right now with his st christopher glinting and dangling down in front of your gaze all you can think about how much you want him. how much you want all of him from his calloused palms to his voice made raspy with cigarettes.
“i want you to fuck me”
it comes out before you can you can think it through, words unbidden and unwanted choking your throat up. your face flushes hot and you press your hand to your mouth as if you can put them back where they came from but it’s too much too late.
he laughs lowly, voice making your skin break out into goosebumps and his hand toys with the edge of your nightdress.
“you mean that angel? you want me to be your first doll?” he grins, teeth glinting vampire like in the low light.
if you weren’t flustered before you are now from his teasing tone and you hide your face in your hands which only makes him laugh more.
“oh baby don’t hide your pretty face from me” he says before gently pulling you hands away. you’re greeted with a more genuine smile then before and he fondly tucks a stand of hair behind you ear.
“if you really mean that - i’d be real lucky to be your first, seriously i know i talk a lot of shit but if you really are sure then i’m gonna make you feel so nice��� as he speaks the rough pads of his fingers draw circles along your thighs in what you’re sure is supposed to be a soothing gesture but is actually incredibly distracting. to be fair though you find everything he does distracting.
he looks at you like he’s waiting for an answer so you nod and he shakes her head.
“nah, i wanna hear you say it,” he murmurs, “say it f’me”
“please dal...” you say, shocked by how breathy your voice has become but he groans softly and it makes something pleasant creep up your gut.
“please - christ - sweetest thing i’ve ever known ain’t you?” he says hands slowly making their ascent but to your disappointment they go right up to resting on your waist. seeing your pout he smirks.
“impatient thing too, i bet. you want me to take it off?” dallas whispered, fingers lightly tugging on the soft silk straps of your nightdress.
slowly he pulls it up off you and though you’re terribly shy laying there in nothing but your now wet cotton panties, his face makes up for it.
“christ you look so fuckin’ good” he rasps lowly, tongue darting out to hungrily trace his lip.
despite your nerves you lean forward slightly and lift his vest over his head. you’ve seen dallas shirtless before and so feel confident navigating it as you press a soft kiss to his jaw. a small offering of affection where words are difficult.
and he seems to understand as he guides your hands to the cool metal of his belt buckle, your trembling fingers unclasping it and brushing over him. he groans softly and so with confidence from who knows where you press more intentionally, gasping slightly at the way he bucks into you.
“tease” he grunts out, pupils dark with something you’ve only seen a couple times before and something that makes you press your legs together absentmindedly. pushing you hand away he finally pulls his jeans fully off and you stare desperately at your boyfriend in nothing but his boxers. beautiful feels an understatement, a word that is much too fragile to describe how he looks. in fact it feels like your whole brain is simply humming with him, anything else feels deeply unimportant.
you watch as his big hands, all of him is big really, settle on the inside of your thighs. making purchase on the skin there in such a way that you wonder if there will be marks, you hope there is. that you can take a part of him with you everywhere, a marker of what it is to be touched by such a man as dallas winston.
he idly thumbs at the small bow of your panties before slipping his hand beneath the soft fabric, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth teasingly. the soft mewl you let out at his touch would be humiliating were it not for the way pleasure sparks through you as his fingers part your folds. you’ve touched yourself before sure but it has never felt like this, dallas’s fingers just so much bigger and experienced then yours. as if he knows what you need before you do.
“god you’re already so fuckin’ needy... soakin’ wet” his teasing voice drawls out but formulating a response is much too hard now his finger has found your clit and is drawing soft little teasing circles over it - both not enough and too much at once. he speeds up ever so slightly, smirking cockily at the soft gasp he draws from you. he’s lazy as he strokes you - as if he has all the time in the world and all he wants to do is watch your lashes flutter and feel the way you absentmindedly buck against hand.
the thing is though it’s not just the way his fingers know just what you do to make you feel good, though of course that is part of it but it’s just him as a whole. the way you’re completely sarrounded by him, his large frame dwarfing your smaller one, the smell of cigarettes and his shaving cream that seems to permeate the air, the praises that he almost reverently mumbles but mainly it’s the fact that it’s him. your dal - your first kiss, your first boyfriend, your first love and now your first..
you whine softly when he suddenly pulls his hand away, brows scrunched up but he simply shakes his head and licks his fingers clean before fully hiking your panties down your legs.
“taste like honey” he tells you, his warm brown eyes fluttering shut at the taste.
grinning all teeth, he thumbs at it watching the way your hole flutters and clenches around nothing, dribbling down onto your floral bedsheets below.
you blink up at him through hooded lashes, the way girls do in movies and hope it is enough to seduce him into touching you again. once again though he seems to understand what you need without you even speaking as he tentatively pushes the pad of his finger into you. the gasp you let out is sinful, even just the tiniest part of him making you feel more full than ever before. gently he nudges the finger further in, eyes zeroed on the way the tight hole sucks it in like a vice. once it’s fully in he begins, slowly at first - easing you through the rhythms as he fucks you. grunting lowly as if he’s getting pleasure just from the way your face scrunches up and body trembles.
“shit - think - think you can take another one baby” he asks is as if he’s not already pushing it in, making you feel impossibly full.
he’s faster now, clear goal in mind as he stretches and curls his fingers till he finds what he’s staring for. when he feels the way you clench around him and offer him a delicious moan he knows he has. with renewed vigour he rubs that spot inside you till it’s almost too much, your legs kicking out, hands almost trying to push him away.
“dal - oh - i” you’re babbling out softly as the sensations course through you, but he just hums encouragingly.
with his free hand that had been resting on your thigh he trails it down to you clit - rubbing it in quick, tight figure-8s whilst curling the ones inside of you against that spongey spot. without warning it suddenly happens, like a pot bubbling over as you tighten around his two fingers and spill out. lips keening out a high-pitched sound somewhere between a moan and a sob as your lashes shutter quickly. that earlier tension softening to the most wonderful feeling that has your body trembling and arching.
when you come to, eyes opening you’re greeted with brown eyes glancing over you. his gaze softer then you’ve ever seen it as he messily kisses you and mumbles against your mouth “did so good for me doll - can’t wait to feel you cum like that on my cock”
“need you now dal” you whisper back using your legs to pull him in closer - it’s not enough you want to be as close to him as possible.
following your encouragement he quickly rids himself of his boxers and finally he is fully bare before you. what strikes you about dallas is the lack of shyness, as if he knows that every part of him is harshly beautiful. grecian statue with his broad nose, lightly muscular chest and his now hardened cock. he holds out a condom and with his hands leading yours, you roll it onto his dick. tentatively wrapping your small hands around it and being rewarded with a gravelly moan. “next time baby” he says and you watch, entranced as he angles himself perfectly with his palms tightly gripping your hips.
“might hurt at first babydoll but it’s gonna feel real good pretty soon okay?” he warns, brows furrowed with the tension of waiting. you nod impatiently, grabbing onto shoulders as if you can push him in by them alone.
he laughs, classic crooked grin on his face. “god real greedy aren’t you?”
his smirk is knocked off his face when he slowly pushes in, groaning lowly at how tight you are still. he’s right, there’s a slight sting between your legs but you trust him that it will get nicer. his fingers seemed big earlier but now you know they were nothing compared to the way just the head of his makes you. ever so slowly he bullies his way into you, a bead of sweat clinging to his brow as he pushes all the way. when he’s finally full sheaved, you whimper - the feeling indescribable and like nothing you’ve ever known.
“gonna... gonna... fuck... move now okay pretty girl?” he rasps out, pressing his forehead to yours. you can do nothing but nod, as your breath is stolen from you.
purposefully he begins to move, rocking in and out of you and the sting has faded now, replaced by white hot beams of pleasure that course through you with each of his movements. his mouth finds your neck and your collarbone and your breasts - basically any part of you within reach and you are almost certain there will be marks tomorrow. the steady pace is torturous now though and almost tearfully you beg him, pouting “dallas - need more!”
“spoilt little thing needs more hm?” he says and if your eyes weren’t closed you would of seen the devilish grin on his face.
and the thing is with dallas he truly can never backdown from a challenge. without warning he speeds up, a truly punishing pace that leaves you feeling such intense pleasure that all you can do is lie there and take it, your body boneless as you moan and babble.
“too much? just gonna have to fuckin’ take it…” his teasing words only serve to make you even more humiliating wet - your body having an almost pavlovian response when he mocks you.
he laughs cruelly, the pad of his thumb finding your bud and rubbing tight little circles as he jackhammers into you.
“christ- you’re so fuckin’ tight”
you can feel that familiar pleasure coming over you - your body tightening up as he continues his frantic movements. you think he’s getting close to from the way his words have faded into animalistic grunts, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and the st christopher bouncing against his bare chest. he suddenly pinches your clit and that’s all it takes. your body seizes up, eyes rolling back as you cum all over his cock. the pleasure comes in waves, rolling over you as you dig your nails into his back to ground yourself.
you tightening around him is the last push he need and with a loud moan of your name he comes into the condom, head tiredly falling against your shoulder as the high fades.
“shit wasn’t too rough was i? was tryna be gentle but then you had to give me those damn fuck-me eyes and i lost it” he says and if you didn’t know any better you might think he was feeling a bit insecure.
you smile softly though and shake your head “dal i’m so glad it was you” his ego restored he shrugs, smirking as he pulls out of you. he rises and you feel a stab in your gut - is he leaving? catching your gaze he rolls his eyes.
“cool yourself duchess, i’m just getting you something to clean you up okay?” you flush, pleased and embarrassed all at once but true to his word he reappears with a flannel wet with warm water which he uses to gently wipe you clean. once that’s done he curls up beside you, loosely wrapping his arm around your middle.
“sleep now - delicate things like you need their rest after their hot greaser boyfriends rail them within an inch of their life” he grins against your shoulder and you scoff softly, too tired to bicker. still with his arm slung around you and the warmth of his breath on your neck you’ve never felt more loved. you really are lucky to have dallas winston as your first.
bonus the next morning:
“what’s that on your necklace dal - next to the st christopher?”
“oh that it’s just your purity ring?”
“why on god’s name do you have that!” what if my parents see! they’ll kill you!”
“well shit angel it’s not like you need it anymore - not after the way i fucked you stupid last night ”
“i hate you...”
hope you like it! xoxo, flo <3
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In Case of Emergency
(Spencer Reid x Medic! Reader)
Warnings: violence, blood, cursing, and eventual smut 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!
word count: 2K
Amidst an increase of injuries out in the field, a new team member is assigned to the BAU. A medic. Tasked with keeping the team alive, but when an unexpected threat challenges her ability to think on her feet, the team is forced to rethink their assumptions of their newest member.
Next | Previous | Beginning
Chapter One: The Newbie
The bullpen was unusually quiet that morning. A rare moment of stillness between cases. Hotch had just finished a conference call and was making his way back to speak with the team when a loud voice cut through the silence engulfing the bullpen.
"I swear, we need someone to fix the coffee machine in here," Garcia said loudly, emerging from her cave. "Caffine is the most important thing for a team that basically runs off it."
Morgan chuckled and raised his mug. "You're not wrong. That's why I got it fixed this morning, babygirl." He winked at her, leaning back in his chair.
"You sweet, sweet angel sculpted by the gods, I could kiss you!" Garcia cheered excitedly, making her way to the newly fixed machine.
"I wish you would've said something earlier before I paid an arm and a leg getting a coffee at that over-priced hipster place," Rossi said, sipping on his drink.
The team shared a laugh, and as the banter died down, Hotch's voice, steady and serious, spoke out. "Alright, everyone, conference room."
Everyone gathered around the table in the conference room, sitting down and shifting their attention to Hotch, who set down a folder on the table in front of them.
"Now, I know everyone has been feeling the weight of the recent cases. There have been a lot of injuries." Hotch took a pause, his gaze flicking briefly to the members of the team. "And a few close call, which bring me to the reason for this meeting."
A beat of silence hung in the air, with some of the members of the team shifting uncomfortably in their seats.
"We've been assigned a new team member," Hotch spoke, his voice flat but carrying weight. "We've been relying on on-call paramedics too much, and frankly, in light of the increased number of injuries, it's time we had one more consistently available."
The room fell into a stunned silence.
"A medic? Like, full-time medic?" Prentiss asked with a frown, unsure of the new addition.
"Exactly," Hotch replied. "She'll be accompanying us on cases, assessing injuries, and providing immediate care when needed. Think of it as one less thing to worry about when things go south."
"That doesn't sound bad," Morgan said with a shrug. "It would be better than waiting 30 minutes for someone to patch us up."
The team nodded in agreement, but a sense of uncertainty still wafted through the air.
Hotch notices this and holds up a hand to calm the team's nerves. "I understand that you all might have some concerns. But her credentials speak for themselves. She's highly qualified, top of her class, and has a specialty in trauma medicine along with combat experience. She'll be a great asset to us."
Before anyone could respond, the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open.
You stepped out, a figure so unexpectedly delicate in appearance that it caught the attention of everyone in the room.
You looked young, maybe in your early to mid-twenties, your frame smaller than most members of the team, with a posture that was straight but a bit shaky as you approached the conference door.
You wore a purple blouse, simple black jeans, and black boots, all paired with a small bag that you were holding in one hand.
"Agent Hotchner?" You spoke, calm and polite, but there was a slight timidness in the way you talked, as if you were still gauging your place there.
Hotch extended a hand, his expression neutral as he shook your hand. "Yes, we're glad you could join us Y/N. I'd like you to meet the team." He gestured toward the group sitting before you.
You nodded and turned, offering everyone a small but shy smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you all. I look forward to working with everyone."
The team went around introducing themselves, and then Hotch took you out into the bullpen to show you where your desk would be.
As soon as you were out of earshot, Garcia's eyes immediately widened as she looked at the rest of the team exclaiming, "Oh! My God! She's so cute!"
Morgan crossed his arms. "She's got the look of someone who's been through some stuff, but something tells me she's not exactly a field operative." His voice was teasing but somewhat disbelieving, as though he couldn't quite picture someone like you- small, pretty, and gentle- dealing with the darkness of their field.
Reid, who had read through all your files in less than a minute, spoke out. "According to what I've read here, she's been trained in combat medicine and emergency trauma care, obtaining a medical degree from Harvard. Along with extensive experience in the military."
"I guess Hotch was right. She's legit." Prentiss, who was impressed with your background, spoke.
"She's definitely more than legit along with qualified. Hotch and I screened a lot of different candidates, and she was the most experienced and talented. She's going to be a good asset to the team." JJ said, smirking slightly. "She might even surprise you while out in the field. Speaking of which, we should be heading out soon. I'll brief you guys on the case when we're on the jet."
JJ walked out of the conference room and into the bullpen to gather all her things; the rest of the team followed after her, readying for the next case.
As he gathered his essentials, Reid out of the corner of his eye watched you at your new desk, which happened to be across from his own.
He couldn't put a finger on it; there was something about you that was- different. Your demeanor was calm, almost too calm for someone of your experience. You seemed almost out of place among the hardened and serious agents, but you didn't seem to mind.
"So, what were you doing before this?" Morgan pressed, not satisfied with the vague answers your file had given.
You smiled politely. "I worked with military units in war zones. Field trauma, combat injuries, and emergency surgeries. Taught me what to do when things go wrong."
Morgan nodded, impressed with your answer.
Your response was measured, and yet there was a level of confidence in your words that made Reid take note.
As everyone stood to prepare for the case briefing, Reid found himself still observing you. Your movements were deliberate, graceful, as if you were in perfect control of yourself. He didn’t know why, but something about the way you looked so serene in a room full of high-strung agents made him feel… different.
30 minutes later, the team boarded the jet en route to Chicago to investigate a series of brutal murders. The cabin was filled with the usual chatter. Prentiss, Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch were discussing theories about the unsub while JJ worked on her laptop in the back.
You sat next to Reid, who was reading through case files looking for any clues or signs. You were, out of habit, arranging your medical bag, carefully ensuring everything was in its proper place. You could feel Reid stealing glances in between reading the case files.
"How long have you been with the military?" he asked quietly, breaking the silence.
You didn't glance up at him, focused on rearranging your different medical dressings for easier selection and quick access. "Five years. I spent most of my time in the Middle East." You spoke with such ease, not losing focus on your current task, as though the violence and chaos of your line of work didn't seem to affect you.
Reid nodded, his curiosity piqued. "That must have been... intense."
You gave a small shrug, finally finishing your re-organization, looking at Reid with a flicker of something in your eye. "You get used to it. People are always in need of help. That's what matters. It makes it worth it."
"I guess I just-" Reid shook his head slightly, rewording his thought. "No offense, but you don't seem like someone who's been in war zones."
Your lips twitched in amusement. "Because I don't look like I've been through hell and back?"
Reid immediately backtracked, his expression turning slightly flustered. "N-no, that's not what I meant! I just-"
You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "It's okay, Spencer. I know what you mean." You re-adjusted yourself in your seat, getting comfortable. "I get it. I don't exactly fit the mold. Everyone I work with or meet expects a battle-hardened, no-nonsense type with scars and a thousand-yard stare. Not...me."
Reid watched you carefully. "You don't seem bothered by that."
You shook your head. "At first, I was, but now, I've accepted myself for who I am. People have always underestimated me my whole life. I just learned the best way to handle it. That's why when I noticed your guys' reaction to me, I didn't take it to heart."
Reid's expression flickered for a moment. "I...can relate to that."
Your eye met his, curiosity sparking. "Yeah?"
He exhaled, looking back down at the case files in hand. "When I first joined BAU, I was twenty-two. I was the youngest agent they'd ever had, and the baby face didn't help. I had three PhDs but zero field experience, and I was thrown into a unit full of seasoned profilers who had seen things I could barely imagine."
You listened intently as he spoke, recognizing the quiet vulnerability in his tone while subconsciously leaning in, moving closer to him.
"They didn't mean to, but the team doubted me. They didn't think I could handle myself. And...to be fair, I did struggle at first," he admitted, giving you a sheepish smile. "I wasn't the best shot like Hotch, nor was I physically intimidating like Morgan, and I wasn't exactly the most socially adept person in the room."
You smiled at that. "I find that hard to believe."
He gave you a knowing look. "Trust me. I was an easy target for teasing."
You hummed, nodding. "So, what changed?"
Reid shrugged, closing the case files and setting them down on the table in front of you two. "I proved myself. I solved cases, learned how to shoot, and saved lives. Eventually, I became part of the team." He looked at you. "I'm sorry if we came off a bit judgemental. I'm glad you didn't hold it against us. If you keep being who you are, the rest of the team will see what you're capable of."
You gave him another small but genuine smile, appreciating his words. "Thanks, Spencer, but there's no need to apologize. Being the newbie comes with a bit of questioning and judgment, and it just encourages me to work harder."
A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, the hum of the jet filling the space, with the rest of the team settling down and taking a much-needed moment of rest before things ramped up with the case.
You watched as Reid turned a page in his book, his fingers carefully holding the edges.
"What are you reading?" you asked, tilting your head.
Reid perked up slightly, always eager to talk about books. "It's a collection of Edgar Allan Poe's works. I was in the mood for something gothic."
Your eyes lit up. "I love Poe!"
He blinked, surprised. "You do?"
You grinned. “Yeah! ‘The Tell-Tale Heart’ was one of the first stories that really creeped me out as a kid. And ‘Annabel Lee’—don’t even get me started on how beautifully haunting that poem is.”
Reid’s eyes lit up in that rare way they did when he found someone who shared his niche interests. “You like gothic literature?”
You nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely. I also love Mary Shelley, Bram Stoker, Shirley Jackson—"
Reid sat up straighter, visibly intrigued. “Wait, you’ve read Shirley Jackson?”
“Of course!” you said, laughing. “I adore her work. ‘We Have Always Lived in the Castle’ is one of my all-time favorites.”
“That book is a masterpiece,” Reid agreed, his excitement growing. “Jackson had this incredible way of creating unsettling atmospheres without relying on outright horror.”
You nodded eagerly. “Exactly! She was a genius at psychological tension. The way she wrote Merricat’s perspective was just so eerie and fascinating.”
Reid grinned, looking genuinely impressed. “Not many people I meet have actually read Jackson’s work, let alone appreciate it the way you do.”
You smirked playfully. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”
Reid let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “I’m starting to see that.”
For the first time since you boarded the jet, you felt like you had clicked with someone. You had known Spencer Reid for less than a day, but already, you could tell that there was something… different about him. He wasn’t just brilliant—he was kind, thoughtful, and surprisingly easy to talk to.
And, for the first time, Reid found himself feeling the same about you.
Maybe you weren’t what the team expected. Maybe you weren’t what he expected.
But something told him that you were going to fit in just fine.
Authors Note:
AHHHH! I had so much fun writing this one! If you couldn't tell, I'm very much into criminal minds at the moment (RIP my Peter Parker fic). I started re-watching it and Grey's Anatomy at the same time, so I thought, why not make the reader a medic? I think a medic is something the team desperately needs and always wondered why they didn't have one lol. I've already started writing the next chapter, but I hope everyone enjoys this one! I decided to try out some new things, like making my own dividers (which I'm very proud of how they came out). Anyways, thank you for reading my word vomit, and I hope you liked it!
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#slow burn#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid slow burn#fanfic#fanfiction#x reader#criminal minds fic
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Caught in the Moment (Help, I'm Stuck!)
pairing: gojo satoru x reader (f)
genre: stepbrother!gojo + smut
word count: 6k
summary: When your Mom remarries, a certain white-haired, blue-eyed demon enters your life in the role of your new step brother. It doesn't matter how angelic he looks, he's nothing short of the devil. And while you've never been very close with your family, Gojo wants to be a whole lot closer to you than a step brother should be. But, hey, family comes first, right? Gojo sure thinks so.
warnings: stepcest (the people who like it, love it and the people who hate it wanna burn my house down for writing it), language, gojo's a brat, the stuck-in-washer bs from h*ntai, dubcon bordering on noncon?????? (open to interpretation, honestly), fingering & oral (f receiving), penetration (p in v), creampie, low key breeding kink, degradation with some hints of praise on the side like if you squint real hard, squirting, some anal (f receiving)
A/N: i will take no questions as to where I have been or why I was gone. i also write for some anime now too lmao. i miss satoru and I'm pissed at gege and I need an outlet bc these new manga chapters are giving me grey hairs. also, this is like 45% proofread max. oh, and thanks for 2k followers <3 ... i rarely come on here anymore, so I didn't notice until now.
xx Jay
You were never much of a family person. It’s not like your Mom made it very easy after divorcing your Dad and hopping from dick to dick like the floor was lava. New weekend? New date. Summer getaway? Fresh boytoy. Spring break? New guy to break her back- if her obnoxious moans were anything to go by.
Overall, you were as much of a family person as your Mom was- noncommittal and unwilling to settle down. And you carried over that same distant, superficial behavior to any of your past romantic relationships… which always ended just about as quickly as your Mom’s did. Your closest friends liked to joke that poor taste in men and a lack of commitment to relationships were perhaps the only things you and your Mom shared in common. And you’d both been that way for as long as you could remember.
Which is why you heard a record scratch in your head when your Mom announced practically out of nowhere that she was engaged and soon to be married. Apparently, this was “the one” and “her knight in shining armor”, or so she claims. She’d have periods of puppy love infatuation every now and then with one of her flings, but since your Dad left the picture, none of your Mom’s relationships had led to a ring on her finger- much less a mansion to share with her new fiance.
The moving process proceeded as quickly as your Mom’s relationship had. In the blink of an eye, all your belongings were packed away nicely in boxes and placed in the back of a truck, soon to be parked in the driveway of your new house. It was as if your Mom wanted to move in together with her latest obsession before her new man realized how horrible of a wife she’d make. Your Dad could attest to that.
The news about the engagement and rushed move all hit you suddenly, sure. But no amount of new information or experiences could have crashed into you quite as hard as your new step brother.
Literally.
“Ow, fuck,” you rubbed your side, “Watch where you’re going.”
Gojo Satoru.
Despite the angelic features, this boy was nothing short of the devil. Whenever you were bored, you’d flip through TV channels and stumble across trashy reality shows where rich people drank alcohol like it was water, partied until the sun came up, and had money to burn. You’d laugh at the over the top antics. Surely you’d never run into someone who actually behaved that way, right?
You wish you were wrong.
Gojo turns around and lets out a chuckle, “My bad, sweets. I’m not used to having such dwarfs living here. The air must be a lil’ different down there, yeah?”
He places his palm on the top of your head and gives it a pat, smirk painted on his lips. You bat his hand away and take a step back, “You say that is if you’re not ducking to keep your head from hitting the door frame. I’m not tall, you're just freakishly tall.”
Smirking at you, he leans a bit closer to your face. He smells of strawberries, you note.
“Well, you know what they say about tall guys with big hands, right? Do you wanna find out if the rumors are true? I’ll give you a hint,” He takes another step closer, “they’re more than true. And all ya gotta do is step into my room and see for yourself.”
You bristle.
His loud music? His rowdy friends that came over? His unwillingness to wash dishes? None of that came close to the bullshit that came from Gojo’s mouth. If it wasn’t suggestive comments spilling from his mouth, it was outright filth.
Somewhere in Gojo’s mind, you two being in the city for the summer and practically home alone given your parents were constantly out doing God knows what meant it was open season to flirt and harass you mercilessly. It started as brushing your shoulder and occasionally touching your lower back when he would move past you in the hallway or kitchen, and now it progressed to… this.
Stepping back like you’d been burned, you look at him with irritation, “Are you on crack? Is it crack that you smoke?”
He quirks his head to the side with a little smile on his face, “Whatcha mean, sweetheart? Don’t Mom and Dad want us to bond?”
You bring your hands to your head to massage your temples, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say… any of what you just said.”
Turning around you begin to walk away, “Keep all your pervy comments to yourself, clean your dishes in the sink, and stay out of my way. I’m supposed to be on summer break, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t come back home from one headache to live next door to another.”
Gojo’s lips curl upwards at that as he tilts his head to the side to get a nicer view of your ass as you walk toward the other room. He knew he’d get you eventually, he just had to play the long game. Despite what the people around him thought, Gojo was no fool. He saw right through his Dad’s rushed engagement and gave the two love birds a few months tops before the relationship failed. And if his Dad was allowed to make foolish mistakes in the name of love (lust), then couldn’t he do the same? After all, it’s not like he’s ever going to see you again once the marriage falls through.
He might as well enjoy this little…. sibling dynamic while it lasts, right? That’s what any good brother would do. And in that moment, Gojo decides to himself that he is that good brother. Oh, he’d be the best big brother.
Despite the constant annoyances from the white-haired, blue-eyed demon spawn who resided in the house, you did appreciate the in-house washer and dryer. Lugging your dirty clothes from your apartment to the laundry room of your housing complex was quite the pain.
Humming a tune to yourself, you walked to the dryer with an empty hamper held against your hip. Opening the dryer door, you leaned down and began to remove the items of clothing. You leaned in a bit further when you noticed a sock at the very back of the appliance.
Rip
You froze. You’ve never been the religious type, but you prayed to whatever god existed that your favorite sweater did not just get caught in the door of the dyer. You held your breath and tried to pull back a little further.
Riiiip
This time the tear was louder and you could just picture the fabric coming loose.
Biting your lip you tried to wiggle around a bit to find a way to back away from the dryer door without ruining your sweater even further. No luck.
After some time bent over with your upper torso stuck in the dryer, you heard footsteps approaching the laundry room.
“Thank God,” you breathed out, “Mom, can you lend me a hand? The fabric on my sweater is stuck to the door of the dryer, and I don’t want to pull away since it’ll rip the top even more.”
You felt a hand brush against your upper thigh, and your breath caught in your throat.
“Oh, I’d love to help, sweetheart,” Gogo sighed, “But I can lend you a whole lot more than just a hand.”
With as much strength as you could muster (given your upper body is stuck inside a godforsaken dryer), you kick behind yourself in an attempt to get him away from you… only to have him catch your foot in his large hand.
“Oh,” he tsks, “That’s no way to treat your loving brother, is it? After all, I’m just trying to help my cute, helpless little sister.”
You grit your teeth, “So help me God, Gojo, if you touch me again, I’m going to rip your dick off and shove it down your throat.”
Although you can’t see him, you know he has that infuriating smirk painted on his face. “Nice to know you’ve got my dick on your mind, princess. Although I think I’d like my dick inside something else…”
Latching his hands onto your hips, he pulls your ass against him and grinds against you slowly.
God, was it a bad day to have worn a skirt.
“These skirts? These thighs?” he groans, “This ass? God, it’s like you’re begging me to take you. Seeing you leave the house with those skimpy little outfits on made me want to drag you to my room and fuck some manners into you. Maybe then you’d know not to show off what’s mine.”
You furrow your eyebrows so aggressively you know there’s guaranteed wrinkles. “What on earth are you talking about?” you spit, “Get the fuck away from me!”
You squirm some more but to no avail. He grabs your hips even tighter, and you feel the outline of something long and hard against your ass. You do everything in your power not to gasp. The last thing you want to do is give him the satisfaction of knowing how much this is affecting you.
“You don’t get it, do you?” he asks in a taunting tone, “I’ve known since day one that your Mom and my Dad were never gonna last. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun of our own, right?” He grinds against you again, and the end of your skirt pushes higher up your thighs. “And I couldn’t believe my luck when I just so happened to be walking past the laundry room and spotted you all nice and vulnerable for me.”
“Gojo, this isn’t funny. Let go,” you bite back.
“Oh, no, I think I’m gonna take my time and enjoy this,” he continues to roll his hips against yours and removes one of his hands from your hips to push your skirt up and over your ass, revealing your panties. “Black lace? You’re kidding me, sweetheart. It’s like you planned for this all along. You want me as bad as I want you, huh?”
You feel his fingers run along the elastic of your underwear and begin to slip them down your legs. This time, you really do gasp. And Gojo certainly heard it if his dark chuckle is anything to go by.
“I’m not fucking around, Gojo,” you let out desperately, knowing where things are about to head, “This is fucked up. You’re my step brother, and there’s no way in hell I’d sleep with you. If you let me go now, I won’t tell our parents.”
By this point your panties are on the floor and your skirt isn’t covering any part of your ass. “Oh, go ahead and tell them, princess,” Gojo remarks as his fingers draw closer to your cunt. “Let ‘em know how good your step brother makes you feel. Family comes first. And in this case,” his longer digits finally reach your pussy, “you’ll be coming in more ways than one.”
He runs a finger up and down your slit, and as much as you try and fight back, your body gives into the pleasure, especially when his fingers reach your clit and begin to roll against the bundle of nerves. “Thaaaat’s it,” he purrs, “Almost like this body was made for me the way I know it like the back of my hand, hm?”
He picks up the pace at which he rubs your clit and suddenly inserts a finger inside your cunt. “Dripping already and you really had the nerve to pretend you didn’t want this. Kind of a sorry attempt to maintain your modesty, sweetheart.”
Pumping his finger in and out of you, you're beginning to lose the strength in your legs. If it weren’t for the fact that your upper torso was held up by the dryer, your legs might have given out.
“G-Gojo, we shouldn’t-”
He cuts you off, “You’re really going to tell me you don’t want this while you’re soaked already? Your mouth is saying one thing, but this pussy is saying another, sweetheart.”
As if to prove you wrong, he adds another finger and picks up the speed at which he’s scissoring your poor pussy. You let out a moan and allow yourself to push back against his fingers, barely mindful of your snagged sweater that landed you in this mess in the first place.
You’re embarrassed to say (and you’d never admit this to Gojo), but you’re getting increasingly closer to your orgasm. You’ve been with your fair share of guys, sure, but no boy has ever made you feel as good as Gojo was making you feel right now.
And that drove you nuts.
Before you could stop yourself, you let out a moan. The pleasure of Gojo’s fingers on your clit and in your cunt was making your mind hazy and forgetful of the promise you made to yourself to not reveal how good Gojo was making you feel with his fingers alone. It was only a matter of time before your legs gave out completely if you’re being honest with yourself.
“Oh?” Gojo asks tauntingly, “You enjoying yourself, pretty? What happened to that bratty mouth of yours? You just needed that attitude fucked right out of you, yeah?”
Since Gojo already heard your moan and knew how your body was responding to his stimulation, you all but dropped your resolve and made no efforts to hold your noises back. After all, you were getting closer and closer to your release, and your brain hardly had the capacity to stay silent while taking his fingers.
The lewd sounds of Gojo’s fingers pumping in and out of you were nothing short of filthy, and you’re almost ashamed to admit it turned you on even more. “Hear that?” Gojo asked as he continued his rhythm. “It’s like she’s calling out for me. You’re close, right?”
You whine at the question.
“There’s no need to respond, sweetheart. I already know the answer,” Gojo quips with a smile. “But I think this pretty pussy of yours can be a bit louder… How about we pick up the pace a bit, yeah? Maybe add another finger? You can take it, right?”
Before you can respond, he adds another one of his long fingers and is plunging in and out of you at a mind bending pace. Your voice is shaky at best as you whine at the feeling. “Fuck,” you moan, “S-Sato-”
The white-haired boy smiles at your broken speech and the (attempted) use of his first name, “What was that, baby? Trying to moan your step brother’s name, let everyone know how deep his fingers are in your pussy?”
“Ugh,” you groan, trying to muster up the last bits of willpower you have left, “fuck you.”
He laughs at your comment and is half impressed that you’re still able to talk back. “Hm, still talking shit? Don’t worry, my tongue and cock will take care of that riiiight away. But first,” his pace gets impossibly faster, “you’re gonna cum all over my fingers.”
As if by magic, you came immediately after the words left his mouth. If you weren’t already a bit fucked out, you would have pondered how Gojo seemed to already know your body better than you did.
Gojo pulls his fingers out of your sopping cunt and sucks them clean. “Hm,” he hums, “Tastes even better than I imagined. You’ll let me get another taste, right? I mean, that’s the least you can do for your step brother after he made you cum so nicely on his fingers.”
He slowly lowers himself to the floor as you process his words, and before you could formulate a response, his tongue is on your pussy. You gasp out and would be tempted to reach back and grab his hair if your arms weren’t stuck inside the damn dryer.
Gojo groans into your pussy, “Fuck, sweetheart, you tasted amazing on my fingers, but I like it even better from the source.”
He dives back in and has you moaning out for more. The way he moves his lips up and down your slit and rolls his tongue around your clit feels heavenly, despite the fact that the boy is the devil himself.
Your legs are growing noticeably weaker, and Gojo loops his arms around your lower thighs to keep you in place and pull your cunt closer to his greedy mouth. Even then, your lower half is twitching in stimulation. Despite the tremors, you try to push your hips against Gojo’s face even more, and he lets out a laugh at the feeling. If you could see Gojo, you would see how much your sounds and movements are affecting him. He’s already high on the feeling of tongue-fucking you. But from inside the dryer, you can’t see that he’s as hard as a fucking rock, and his leaking cock is straining against his sweatpants to the point where it’s almost painful.
His tongue settles on your clit and begins to alternate from sucking to rubbing figure eights on the bud. You’re really hoping no one else is home. Because if someone is, there’s no way they wouldn’t hear your desperate moans that are only increasing in volume as Gojo continues to eat you out like your pussy is his last meal.
“Satoru, that feels so fucking good,” you sigh, leaning your head down to rest against the wall of the dryer since you’re unable to keep it up.
“Oh, it’s Satoru now, is it?” he asks mockingly as he leans back and lets his fingers continue the pleasure on your clit, “You’re telling me all I had to do to get on your nice side was suck on this pretty pussy? Sweetheart, I would have done that for free.”
He leans back in and latches his tongue to your clit once more, picking up the pace and intensity of his sucking. With the little leg strength you have left, you bounce the lower half of your body against Gojo’s mouth continuously in an attempt to increase the stimulation.
‘She wants to ride my tongue, huh?’ Gojo thinks to himself. ‘She’ll have all the time in the world to do that when I get her to sit on my face.’
Gojo’s turned on even more at the thought of you suffocating him with your thighs as your cunt drops on to his lips. He’ll have to experience it soon before the idea drives him even closer to insanity.
Fuck, he couldn’t get enough of you.
He moans into your pussy, and the vibrations almost make you cum on the spot. The feeling is so good your eyes are nearly rolling back in your head. You’re really glad Gojo can’t see your face or he’d never let you forget the fucked out look in your eyes. However, what you don’t know is that Gojo won’t let you forget how good he fucked you no matter what your facial expressions looked like- those were just the cherry on top.
“I’m so close, Satoru,” you whine, “Please don’t stop.”
You continue to grind on his face, shaking with pleasure and beginning to feel beads of sweat form on your forehead from the heat of the tongue-fucking coupled with the warmth of the dryer.
The dam broke when Gojo landed a loud smack on your ass. You yelped and your legs gave way fully as you released all over his face. Gojo licked up every last drop of your cum and left kisses around your inner thighs before he pulled away.
“Damn,” he breathed out as he rubbed his hand against the cheek he just spanked, “I didn’t take you for the masochist type, little sis. Got any other secrets I should know about? Or should I just find them out myself?
You whine at the feeling of his hand on your ass. You know there’ll be a mark there tomorrow. But you couldn’t focus on the long-term consequences of what was happening right now in the laundry room. It was fucked up, of course, but it felt so good that you didn’t even care how wrong it was.
“Satoru,” you spoke, voice a bit hoarse from moaning, “need you to fuck me.”
Gojo tilts his head in faux confusion, “What was that, princess? I didn’t quite catch that. I mean, you are stuck in the dryer, after all. How else would I have been able to get you this easy and exposed for me?”
You groan in equal parts irritation and desperation. If you weren’t so fucked out already, you would have certainly cussed him out by now.
“I said,” you repeat more firmly, “I need you to fuck me.”
He hums, “What? No “please”? And here I thought I’d fucked some manners into you. I guess all you respond to is cock, huh?” He brings his hand down against your ass once more. “Why don’t you try again, sweetheart?”
“Please,” you beg, “Please, please, please fuck me, Satoru. I need your cock so bad.”
You know he’s got that bratty smile on his face when he hears your words. His little step sister wants his cock, and who is he to deny her?
He quickly pulls down his sweats and spits on it before pumping it a few times. He rubs the head of his cock up and down your slit before lining it up with your entrance.
“Wait,” you manage to snap out of your daze, “Satoru, we need condoms.”
He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, “Condoms? Baby, don’t you trust your step brother? You know I’m clean.”
You open your mouth to refuse, but your mind gets more and more hazy as he rubs his cock against your folds.
“And besides,” Gojo grunts, “You’ll be begging for my cum soon enough.”
Without another word, Gojo slides into you. You curse out loud. He’s not even all the way in, and he feels fucking huge. The tip alone is wide enough that the ring of your pussy stretches uncomfortably and you feel it sting. And, fuck, even though it feels like he’s been pushing in for forever, he’s still not done.
“Fucking, fuck,” you gasp, “Are you all the way in yet?
You can’t see his length, but as he pushes deeper and deeper inside your wet pussy, you suspect he’s got to be somewhere around 9 inches at least. Of course, the rich, popular, pretty boy has a massive cock, because he’s just so infuriatingly perfect.
“Just about, sweetheart,” he hisses and finally bottoms out, “What? Don’t tell me you want to back out now. You’re the one who wanted this, remember? My bratty little slut of a step sister can’t take the cock she begged for just a minute ago?”
You bite your lip and try to adjust to his gigantic length. Once the burn subsides, you feel the pleasure seep in. You’ve never felt so full. It was as if he were in your guts, and if you could look at your abdomen, you’d see his cock bulging from your tummy. You could only imagine how much fuller you’d feel when he actually came.
And although you had been apprehensive earlier, now the idea of Gojo cumming deep inside you nearly had you drooling. Better yet, his cock is so massive that instead of drooling saliva, you imagined his cum dripping from your mouth because he had filled up your pussy past the brim.
“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer, sweetheart,” Gojo groans and begins to fuck into you. “You’re so fucking tight it feels like your pussy is suffocating my cock.”
You moan at his words and try to picture his face as he takes you from behind. Gojo has always been attractive- that was never up for debate. But you could only imagine how hot he’d look with his eyebrows furrowed as he bit down on his pretty pink lips and sweat rolled down the sides of his face. You bet his white hair would stick to his forehead a bit, and you’d kill to run your fingers along his uppercut while he fucked you.
That can be for another time.
“Oh, my God,” you cry out as he pounds into you, “Just like that, Satoru, don’t stop.”
He playfully rolls his eyes as if your pussy wasn’t frying his brain too, “So demanding,” he tuts.
Picking up the pace, Gojo begins to slam his hips against yours even harder. He lands another spank on your ass and grabs your hips tightly with his free hand.
When was the last time you got laid? You can’t even remember when the dick you’re getting now is so good. And you certainly have never had a guy this big before, that’s for sure. But you almost feel like a virgin, because you have never been fucked like this before. It was an experience you hadn’t even considered until now.
“God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Gojo professes, “Every time I’d hear you touching yourself in your room, I wanted to kick the door down and take care of you myself.”
If you weren't so absolutely cockdrunk already, you would have been positively flushed with embarrassment at his comment given you thought you’d been so quiet and strategic about when you played with yourself.
“Fucking hell,” Gojo removed his hand from your ass pushed his hair out of his eyes. “I even thought about sneaking cameras into your room to get an exclusive glimpse of what you looked like all needy and desperate to cum.”
You gasped at the vulgar statement and felt yourself grow strangely wetter.
Since when did any yandere behavior turn you on?
Gojo laughs when he feels you tighten around him. “Oh, you like that? Well, now that I have this pussy, I’m never letting it go. No need for those cameras anymore, sweetheart. Why watch clips when I have this cunt instead?”
You really felt like you were going insane at this point. His cock is bullying itself into your cunt at an almost bruising pace. You could feel your wetness run down your thighs and your cheeks burn with embarrassment imagining the mess you’ve made on the floor from the amount of cum you’ve released.
Gojo’s not faring any better. He felt like he would bust almost immediately after pushing into you, but he’d be damned if he fucked up this moment- the moment he had been imagining and wait for since the first time he laid eyes on you.
“Oh, step sister,” Gojo said in a sing-song voice in between grunts, “Could you imagine if Mom and Dad walked in on us now? What would they say, seeing your precious little cunt be stretched out by your step brother’s cock, huh?”
Moaning at the thought, you try to close your legs a bit at the overstimulation.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Gojo quips and pulls your legs apart before shoving a hand between them and attaches his fingers to your abused clit. “There’s no way you’re getting away from my cock until you’re filled with my cum and can’t remember a thing except my name. Got it?”
You nod your head but immediately receive another spank. “Words, princess.”
“Yes!” you cry. Since there are tears welling up in your eyes, you’re now sweating, drooling, and crying. Gojo must hear your sniffling since he remarks, “Next time, I’ll take you from the front. That way, I’ll be able to see your face when I fuck you dumb.”
His words get progressively dirtier as he pounds into you. He’s so caught up in the sensation of your pussy clenching around his cock that he’s almost rambling nonsense at this point.
“Do you know how hard it is not to push you down face-first on the counter when you walk into the kitchen wearing those tight dresses or short skirts? It’s crazy how I've waited this long to fuck you,” he pants. “Fuck, I’ll have to take pictures of you after I’m finished fucking this sloppy pussy so I can show all my friends what they're missing.”
You never imagined you’d be into voyeurism, but the way Gojo is describing how he’d photograph and record you to show you off to his friends like some prize to be won has you moaning out even louder. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire. And everything Gojo is saying and doing is only adding fuel.
He was reaching parts of you that you didn’t even know could be reached. And he could tell by your reactions how good you felt taking his cock.
“Poor little girl,” he sighed out, “I bet you were getting tired of playing with this pretty pussy all by yourself, right? Your fingers just weren’t long enough to reach right…. here.” He hits your g-spot head on, and it has you screaming out his name. He rams against the spot over and over again, and you swear you’re seeing stars.
His stamina should be studied by scientists the way he’s relentless as he pounds into you without any sign of slowing down. You knew for a fact that you would have collapsed onto the floor if not for the dryer door and Gojo’s arms keeping you up. You felt like a ragdoll with the way he was fucking you. You weren’t a person in this moment, you were his own personal fleshlight. And he’d be damned if he let you walk away without your pussy perfectly molded to fit his dick and his alone- not that you’ll be able to do much walking for a while anyway.
“Y-you so big, Satoru,” you exhale, “I swear I can feel you in my throat.”
He laughs at your cockdrunk comment, “Believe me, sweetheart. Next time, my cock will be in that throat.”
He starts rubbing your clit even faster than before, and you’re doing everything you can not to scream your throat raw. It’s like Gojo has some sixth sense for your facial expressions since he barks, “Don’t you dare keep that mouth closed. I waited too long to fuck this tight pussy for you to hold back your screams.”
Your ass shakes as he spanks you multiple times in a row. With each spank, your moans get louder, your ass now bright red and warm to the touch.
Removing his hand from your waist, your legs fumble. You’re barely standing upright, and practically all your weight rests on the where you body slumps over the dryer. “You better keep standing, pretty.” Gojo taunts. “Because you’re gonna have a much harder time taking my cock if you slip.” He threatens you as if he wouldn’t just fuck your boneless body on the floor, but he feels you tighten even more with his empty threat.
Using his free hand, he spits on his fingers and brings them to your ass. Your eyes shoot open when you feel one of his digits run against the rim of your ass. “S-Satoru, what are you d-doing?” you stammer out, trying your best to form remotely coherent sentences.
“What am I d-doing?” Gojo mocks. “Well, I’m just showing this hole some love too. Must have felt left out seeing your pussy be stuffed so nicely, yeah?”
He runs his finger along the rim and leans down to spit another dab of saliva on the hole all while keeping up his cock’s brutal pace and unforgiving assault on your clit.
You clear your throat and shake your head in a poor attempt to clear your mind. “S-Satoru, I haven’t done anything there yet,” you pant. “Y-you shouldn’t do that.”
He smiles almost sinisterly, “Oh, I think I should, sweetheart. And that’s what I’m gonna do.”
Without any warning, he pushes his finger into your ass, and you yelp at the foreign sensation. You’d never tried anal with any of your past boyfriends. This was entirely new terrain.
And Gojo dismissed your apprehension like he was swatting a fly.
If anyone else did something like that to you, you’d wring their necks. So why did it feel so damn good when Gojo did it?
You moan louder as he begins to pump the digit in and out slowly, his spit acting as makeshift lube for the tight muscle. The combined sensations of your clit, cunt, and ass being played with was driving you insane.
“F-fuck, Satoru,” you nearly wail, “I can’t take anymore, it’s too much!”
He shakes his head in mock disappointment, “Oh, no, pretty. You can and will take it. You’re not done until I say you are.”
You’re fully sobbing by this point. You can’t tell where your tears end and where your drool begins. Your whole body is shaking and not just because of Gojo’s unforgiving pounding.
“I’m so close,” you exclaim, “F-feel like I’m going to explode.” You didn’t even know how to explain what you were feeling at this point.
“Explode, huh?” Gojo questions as he bites back a groan, “Well, that sounds exciting. How could you possibly ask me to stop now? We’re gonna miss the best part.”
You bite the inside of your cheek so hard that you taste the metallic flavor of blood that mixes with the excess saliva in your mouth from all your drooling. And if you were actually able to think clearly, you would have noticed the saltiness from your tears as well.
“S-Satoru!” you scream. “I think I’m gonna-”
You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before you’re squirting all over your and Gojo’s legs, the floor, the side of the dryer. Your whole body is trembling, and you feel as if you’ve been electrocuted. You’re still crying out as Gojo brings both of his hands down to your hips to fuck you even harder.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Gojo moans loudly, “Did you just squirt? Fucking god, I can’t wait to lick it off you.” His pace is as rough as ever, but it feels even more intense since you just had the strongest orgasm of your entire life. “I’m gonna fill up this pretty little pussy, and then no other guy will want my sloppy seconds, yeah? This pussy belongs to me now.”
Gojo fucks into you one, two, three more times before he’s shooting thick, hot ropes of cum deep into your weeping pussy, still unbearably sensitive from squirting. If you weren’t so fucked out of your mind, you would have been mortified that you squirted- on Gojo and because of Gojo, nonetheless.
It feels like ages before his cock stops filling you with his seed and he finally stills inside of you. That’s a miracle if ever you’ve seen one, because you thought you would die if he kept going.
You both wince as he pulls out, and he watches in awe as his cum spills from your cunt. You hear him rustle through his discarded clothes on the floor before you hear the click of a camera. This little sound effect draws you from your haze a bit.
“G-Gojo!” you yell. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
You can hear a pout in his voice. “Gojo? What happened to Satoru, hm? Is that name only reserved for when I fuck you?”
“Delete that immediately!” you wiggle in place.
He just scoffs and shakes his head. “Oh? You really want me to delete it? Because I could have swore you were just smothering my cock when I told you how badly I wanted to take pics of you after I’d fucked you stupid.”
You huff and are about to argue back when you feel him run his fingers against your thighs once more, and your words are caught in your throat.
“Speaking of which…” Gojo hums, “I must not have fucked you hard enough if you can still talk back to me…”
Your breath hitches.
“I guess that just means I’ll have to fuck you again then, won’t I?” Gojo thinks aloud and grabs your ass with both hands. “Like I said, family comes first.”
---
if you made it this far...thanks guys lmao
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk gojo#gojo#gojo satoru fanfic#boulevardk#gojo x reader smut
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Lucifer’s Daughter Headcannons
Lucifer x Reader: If Lucifer and Reader had a daughter, here’s what I think she would be like. or an excuse for me to talk about apple white…



Personality
First of all, personality. Your daughter would be raised by Lucifer, therefore picking up some of his both positive and negative traits, but let’s start positively.
Your daughter would be very creative. Her father was a dreamer; having beautiful (rejected) ideas and dreams for humanity. We saw in episode five how Lucifer would use his powers to show baby Charlie magic—so I doubt your child would be any different. Although Lucifer would be worried about her ending up like him.
Your daughter is very empathetic. Always helping injured little animals she finds in your back garden. Also, speaking of animals, it’s like she can speak to them. Animals really like and trust her—and by the time she gets older, she has an army.
Very charismatic. Your daughter would be extremely popular in school. Not only because she’s a princess of hell and the daughter of a fallen angel—but because of her charisma and charm. She is extremely outgoing, and will walk up and talk to anyone. Almost everyone loves her—how could they not?
Unfortunately, she would probably have selfish tendencies. Having been spoiled her entire life, she expects everything to be handed to her on a silver platter. And yes, while she can be down-to-earth and empathetic, she isn’t a perfect Angel.
As a teenager, your daughter would likely experience extreme anger issues. We’ve seen Lucifer can control his anger and annoyance…but he’s also been alive for eons. A teenager wouldn’t be able to do that.
She also inherits her father’s powers. From childhood all the way up into her teenage years, she will struggle to control them. Her powers getting stronger the angrier she gets. She is completely out of control, and has to be calmed down.
Looks/Appearance
Blonde. Very very blonde. There is no way she doesn’t inherit the signature blonde Morningstar locks. Oh, and those adorable rosy red cheeks. She’s so cute!
However, she will have your complexion and eyes. I also can imagine your daughter having curly little ringlets or locks, which is extremely hard to brush, because she cries every. single. time. and you just feel so bad about it.
Overall, I think your daughter would look (and dress) something like apple from ever after high, with your eye color and skin tone ofc. (God I love her so much).


Name
Okay. I know I’ve mentioned Apple White already in this post…but I just love her so much! Can you guys imagine Lucifer having a daughter like her?
Do I think he would name his daughter something like Apple? Definitely. I mean, he was the one who offered eve the forbidden fruit; an apple. And he just likes apples.
Another name is Evangeline. Depending on who you ask (or what you google lol) Evangeline can mean one of three things. Angel, messenger, or ‘good news.’ So not only does this name remind him of the good days back in heaven, but also his brother Gabriel, the messenger…is that too much of a stretch?
Another good one is Penelope. The name Penelope is Greek and means ‘weaver’ (not important) or ‘duck’. Wouldn’t it be so cute if Lucifer named his daughter something duck related? You can’t tell me otherwise.
The last name I can think of is Aurelia. (I actually knew an Aurelia lol). Aurelia means ‘golden’ or ‘the golden one.’ Not only is Lucifer referred to as ‘the golden angel’ in mastermind, but he would treat his daughter like a golden treasure. A chance to start over and fix his previous mistakes as a father.
Idk if I should make a part 2…but if I do, would u guys rather it be more Headcannons for Lucifer’s daughter, or a different characters child?
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin x you#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel imagine#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer hazbin hotel#luciferxreader#lucifer morningstar#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin#hazbin hotel
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LOVED YOUR THOMAS FIC!! Please write more Maze Runner. ALSO, I am a sucker for established relationship.
What about Thomas and reader (established relationship) reunite after being separated?
this is literally a year old but I discovered it in my drafts and had to post! pretty sure the maze runner fandom is dead rn but I simply do not care
tmr!thomas x fem!reader | established relationship, fluff and a bit of angst (set in the death cure)
Thomas thinks, if he doesn’t find you soon, he might as well be dead. He’s well on his way. His heart hasn’t felt normal since WCKD took you. It’s felt heavy as lead, weighing down in his chest like a rock, making it hard to walk, hard to breathe. He hasn’t been able to sleep, but being awake is so much worse. It’s horrible, spending every waking moment worrying about what WCKD is doing to you, wondering if you’re even alive, thinking about all the things he could’ve done better to save you.
The guilt eats at him like a virus, clawing at his heart and up his throat. Eating him alive and spitting him right back out until he feels like a zombie. A dead boy walking.
It takes over his body now, so much so that he’s not really thinking at all as he breaks into WCKD headquarters. He’s thinking, but he’s not thinking. He lets his body take over, he smashes through glass windows and knocks out guards with the butt of his gun, he busts down metal doors and screams your name down the fluorescent white and blue halls.
He yells himself hoarse. He and Newt come to a T shape in the seemingly never-ending hallways. Newt yells for them to take one each, and Thomas barrels down the right one, his heart pounding in his ears. He peers through big glass windows, sees machines and medical carts and computers, but no you. He’s starting to feel desperate. He’s starting to feel like he might kill someone just to find you. His legs feel numb. Then,
“Thomas! I’ve got her!”
Thomas runs faster than he’s ever run before. Twists on his heel and very nearly breaks his ankle, but goes sprinting the way he came, and down the hallway Newt took. Hope and guilt and desperation and regret surge through his body like electricity in his veins. He’s running so fast, so blind with hope, that he almost slams right into Newt. His friend grabs his elbow.
“Woah.” He’s breathing hard. But he’s smiling. “She’s okay, Tom.”
And then you appear as if out of nowhere, stepping out from behind Newt like an angel in a fiery, burning hot hell. You look pale. You look weak. You’re in a hospital gown and no shoes. There’s a big bruise in the crook of your elbow and your lips are cracked. But you’re here. He doesn’t want to sound like a loser, but Thomas could cry buckets right now.
“Y/N,” he says. He doesn’t sound like himself. Doesn’t feel like himself. He feels as if he’s standing watching the scene as merely an observer. It’s an odd feeling, an out of body experience.
“Thomas,” you say, and the relief in your tone breaks his heart into a million little pieces that seem to spill out onto the floor in front of him.
Thomas surges for you. He scoops you into a hug so tight it’s sure to bruise, which is stupid, but he isn’t thinking straight, and you squeeze him just as hard, anyway. You fling your arms around his neck and keep them there. Thomas doesn’t know what to do with his hands. They’re everywhere — your hair, your back, your neck — it’s like he’s worried you’ll slip away, or worried you’re merely a ghost of the girl he loves. The fabric of your hospital gown is starchy and foreign in his hands, but you’re warm and soft and familiar underneath it all.
“I’m sorry,” he says. He’s crying now, and Newt’s right there watching the whole thing, but Thomas doesn’t care. His heart hammers faster than light. Or is that your heart? He can’t tell, you’re pressed so tight to him they may as well be the same. “I’m so sorry.”
You shake your head hard where it’s buried in his neck. You’re crying too, he feels your warm tears sticky on his skin. “Don’t. Don’t say that. I’m okay, Tom.” Your hand is in his hair, stroking him gently like he’s the one who’d been kidnapped, not you. “It’s not your fault.”
Thomas blinks away hot, hot tears. They blur his vision. His ears are ringing, or is than an alarm somewhere blaring in the distance? He can’t tell, it doesn’t matter, he’s got you now and he’s never letting go.
Newt says something but neither of you hear him. You’re too busy coveting the hair at the nape of Thomas’ neck, and he’s too busy running his hands over the planes of your back as if memorising them. Newt tries again, louder.
“We have to go now!” he shouts, gripping Thomas’ shoulder.
Thomas pulls back, blinking rapidly. His ears finally stop ringing, only for them to pick up something worse, gunshots and yelling coming from somewhere too close, followed by thundering footsteps. He curses and takes your shoulders in two rough hands. Just be strong for a little longer, his touch says.
“I’m sorry,” he tells you again. Guilt and sincerity roll into one to ache like a wound over his heart. “We have to go now, sweetheart. We’re gonna find Minho and get you the hell out of here. Can you walk?”
He’s willing to carry you if you have to. But you nod and grab his hand fiercely. The three of you take off down the hallway and Thomas decides he’s never, ever, letting you go again.
#★ mal writes!#tmr!thomas#tmr!thomas x reader#tmr!thomas x you#tmr!thomas x y/n#tmr!thomas fic#thomas tmr#thomas tmr x reader#thomas tmr x you#thomas tmr fic#the maze runner#the maze runner x reader#the maze runner x you#the maze runner x fem!reader#the maze runner fanfiction#the maze runner x y/n#dylan o’brien#dylan o’brien x reader#the maze runner fic#maze runner#maze runner x reader#maze runner x you#tmr#tmr thomas#tmr x reader#tmr x you#tmr thomas x reader#maze runner imagine#tmr!thomas imagine#maze runner fanfiction
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no sweeter innocence (than our gentle sin)
in which spencer reid is gentle with overwhelmed fem!reader after sex
18+ (fluff, implied intimacy) warnings/tags: it's just aftercare, but like psychological aftercare, implied intimacy duh, vague descriptions of sex but nothing explicit, hurt/comfort without the hurt, allusions to postcoital dysphoria, reader cries but its not really sad, spencer reid is so kind i wish men were real, i think that is all a/n: guess who wrote an entirely different thing instead of touching her wips..... AGAIN...... this bitch cant do anything omggg!! but this was based on a request so go me also what a strange time to be posting but it's only 1k words and nobody can stop me
“Hey. Are you with me, angel?”
You blink your eyes open in the dark room—reorienting yourself to the tangle of your bodies. How many minutes has it been?
“Hm?”
He chuckles—a quick huff from his nose as he brings a hand up to push hair from your face.
“I asked you if you’re with me.”
It takes you a moment to answer. You’re still trying to make sense of where you are in space, each sensation coming back to you one by one—the weight and pressure of him against you, the slip of cotton sheets and a cool breeze from the cracked window over your heated sticky skin.
“Oh.”
It’s not much of an answer and your voice is small. For a moment he lets it sit, cupping your warm cheek. Your eyes flutter shut again. His voice comes gentler, dipped in concern.
“You okay?”
This time you don’t try to speak. Your tongue is like a lead weight in your mouth and your brain is running on dial-up. The best you can do is to cling to him, hiding your face in the curve of his neck and hoping he’ll understand that your firm hold on him is a request for him to tighten his own arms around you, until you’re sure you won’t float away. He reciprocates and it makes you feel more secure immediately.
“Can you answer me?” He murmurs, all sweet solicitation, lips brushing the top of your head in this new airtight position. And then, a moment later— “Baby. I wanna hear your voice.”
“Mhm,” you manage.
Spencer rewards you by rubbing your back in slow circles. His hand feels nice on your bare skin. The way you love him is too big for words. It could make you cry.
“Wasn’t too much? You’re not hurting anywhere?”
You shake your head and try to ignore the ache in your bones when you can’t seem to get him close enough.
“Mm-mm.”
It’s not entirely true—your legs are sore, but it’s nothing that needs tending to, and your lower back is a bit crampy, but he’s already working on that.
He hums. “You’re pretty out of it, sweet girl. What’s going on with you?”
Spencer is always careful with you. He’d never hurt you, or sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure. That said, he’s just as passionate as you are. The stretch of your arms above your head is still fresh in your mind—the ghost of his grip, pressing your wrists into the mattress, or pushing your leg up, or pulling you exactly where he wanted you by the hips. It’s all wonderful, and you never feel safer than you do when you’re with him, but it doesn’t make you feel any less vulnerable, any less raw, after all is said and done. Maybe it’s precisely because you trust him so much that you’re so sensitive afterward. But he never, ever makes you feel bad for having an intense reaction to an intense experience. He always meets you where you’re at. That in itself makes you emotional. Spencer is different than any of the partners you’d had before.
Again, he’s patient as you try to process his question and work up a response. Maybe a minute later, you’re breathing out something that feels true.
“Overwhelmed.”
The word is a tap against glass you didn’t know was there until it’s fracturing like a spiderweb. With no warning, and for no good reason, you find yourself choked up.
“Oh,” he says, sympathetic and drawn out as understanding sets in. “Do you need me to back off for a minute?”
You squeeze him even fiercer and shake your head, unable to stop the tears from drawing their shiny paths down your cheeks and sinking into the weave of the pillow case.
“Shh. You’re okay,” he murmurs, quiet and slow and almost sing-songy as he smooths your hair, though you know he doesn’t really expect you to stop crying. “You’re okay, pretty. Remember what I said about all the hormonal shifts in your body after you come?”
Once more you nod against him with a small, shuddering sniffle.
“And how sometimes your body regulates by crying? Kind of like a… a reset button?”
“Mhm.”
“Mhm.” He shifts from rubbing your back to tracing light lines in shapeless patterns with the blunt edges of his nails, and your breath catches before you’re melting in his hold. “It’s okay to have big or confusing feelings after sex. It’s actually really common. I just want you to be honest with me about those feelings, right? So we can keep you safe?”
“Right.”
“Would you tell me if you were hurting, or if something I did or said was bothering you?”
“Yes.”
If you were looking at him you know he’d be smiling ever so slightly at your monosyllabic responses, charting an upward path with his hand and pushing it through your hair at the nape of your neck. “You can just nod, baby. You don’t have to talk. I know you’re tired.”
You make a small noise of gratitude and nuzzle closer, feeling better as the tears slow, quickly as they’d come.
“Do you want a bath in a little while?”
Another nod. He scratches at your scalp. “Okay. We’ll do a bath, and then dinner, and then I’m finally going to make you watch that documentary about Helvetica. It’s a little outdated, and there are a few basic errors about the origin and development of the font as well as misinformation about the typeface subgroup in general, but I can amend those as we watch and afterward we can read the director’s tenth anniversary statement. I was waiting to read it until we watched it together.”
Spencer knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’ll fall asleep ten minutes in, curled up on the couch under a blanket in your biggest hoodie with your head on his lap and his hand in your hair, just like this.
He’s actually really looking forward to it.
#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#criminal minds imagine
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Leo and Rowan with a female reader who is a virgin and wants to lose her virginity, but the boys keep manipulating her, saying that other guys won't treat her as well as they do, and she ends up trusting her childhood friends for this, so the task is given to the boys 😏
. . . she says she trusts me with her life !
in which . . . they told you to trust them for the most important moment in your life.
cw. fem!reader, overstimulation, being called a ‘good girl’, corruption (taking your virginity), dual penetration
pairings . lèo jaccoud x fem!reader x rowan collins
demon x reader , angel x reader , roommates x reader , childhood best friends x reader
notes . this was yummy to write. but on an honest note, good luck to yalls pussies 😇😇 this took me much longer to write tho.. my bad gang. writer's block is ass
masterlist . character wiki
“i don’t understand why you’re so adamant about wanting to lose your virginity, ma chérie” lèo sighs, shaking his head as he watches you cross your arms and in a way, throwing a bit of a tantrum about this — at least in his eyes he thinks about that. he glances at rowan who is just as tired of this as he was.
“especially to some random bloke you matched on that stupid dating app,” rowan continued as you groaned and hid your face for a moment. “you shouldn’t take your virginity for granted. leave it for someone special in your life” like them.
“plus, you never know, that man could just use you for your body and you probably wouldn’t be having the time of your life with it” lèo scoffs as you finally put your hands away from your face.
“it’s not my fault that there’s no one who wants to date me. i want to experience the dating scene and i want to try it out, to see what’s so good about sex. can’t a girl dream?” you huffed out defensively as the two of them just looked at each other and then at you once more.
to be fair, they were the ones that are the reason why you aren’t dating anyone. they can’t help it! you are theirs since the moment the three of you met all those years ago. the two of them can’t let you go, and they for sure aren’t going to let some random guy who isn’t worth your time steal you away from them.
“if you’re so desperate, then let us do it,” lèo suggested, which made both yours and rowan’s eyes bulge out from the sockets. “i know for sure we can make you feel better than anyone could possibly do.” you were at a loss for words because frankly you didn’t think that he would even suggest that.
“what? what are you talking about, you guys don’t like me that way do you?” you asked as the both of them stayed silent before lèo spoke up once more “regardless if we like you or not, you were going to practically sell yourself to another guy, someone who you don’t even know, and won’t even have a connection with. at the very least, if you’re so desperate to lose your virginity, do it with people you know,”
rowan slowly started to nod his head in agreement with lèo, agreeing with the demon about this whole ordeal. though, he won’t outrightly say it. but still, the other makes a very good point.
“but won’t it be awkward if it’s with you guys?” you weren’t necessarily pushing the idea away — not because you were desperate to get your virginity taken so you settled for the only people there is, but because well, you always had a crush on both of them. you just wanted to gain some experience before you could even make a move so that at the very least, they won’t get disappointed by your lack of experience.
“i’d rather go through the pain of awkwardness than to know that you slept with a stranger on the internet” rowan finally says as lèo smiled and nodded at his words. you stood there awkwardly before sighing, finally giving into their whims.
“fine, but i’m going to smack you both if the sex isn’t good.”
but why is it that when you said that, the two of them had a certain glint in their eyes and almost a joyous look to have you agree on fucking them? well, you were about to know the reason why.
it was lèo who made the first move, gently pulling you from your standing position and down onto his lap as he made you look at him. “do you even know how to kiss, ma chérie?” he teased as you found yourself feeling flustered at the question. “hey now, it’s not my fault i have zero dating experience!” you say as the other chuckles softly.
to be fair, even both of them are virgins. they’ve been stuck to your side like glue, and refused to even fuck anyone else just because they don’t want to cheat on you. however it just felt like something in their bloodline on how they knew how to do these things. at least for lèo that is. rowan reads about it, and well, lèo teaches him about it too.
still, the demon can’t really help but smile at your words, humming “then i’ll teach you” he whispers, tilting your chin upwards so that you could actually look at him. you knew that he was always gorgeous but seeing him this close made your head spin a little bit. “open your mouth.. mhm, just like that, good girl” he whispers and you find yourself feeling flushed by the way he spoke to you.
he leaned in close to you and kissed you softly. he took it slowly guiding you through the process before he glided his tongue to your bottom lip and you opened your mouth slightly to let him enter. that’s when you feel his hand held onto your waist to pull you closer and keep you steady. the kiss was breathtaking and heady, and you couldn’t stop yourself from making noises to which he drank it in all the same way.
the kiss lasts for a minute, or maybe two? you can’t seem to tell with how light headed you felt. you gently gripped his shoulders, wanting to pull away to breathe and lèo reluctantly obliged. “you doing alright?” he asks, his breath a little hard as you nodded “uh.. yeah.. just needed a moment to breathe”
rowan, who was watching all of this happening, looked with a dazed expression before coming closer. your back now pressed against his body as he hummed. “while you take your breather, let me continue to make you feel good, alright?” he whispers into your ear as he leaned and kissed your neck ever so gently. it was a little ticklish at the start, but the way his lips moved and nibble ever so gently it made it obvious he was testing the waters and teasing all at once.
“r-rowan..” you whimpered as he hummed in response, littering your neck with kisses as his hands moved downwards, his hands cupping your breasts gently. “ah-! i.. i never realised your hands were big,” you commented shyly. his hands were large enough to cup your breasts entirely, and you hear a soft chuckle from the demon. “he really does have big hands, doesn’t he, ma chérie”
you felt a little embarrassed since you’re practically sandwiched in between both of them, but all those thoughts left when the angel nibbled a rather sensitive part which made you squirm and moan at the same time. “ah~ so that’s where your sweet spot is,” lèo cooed before the hand that was on your chin made you look up at him “let me continue where i left off,” he whispers and he goes back to kissing you.
it wasn’t long before your hand had gripped onto his shirt to stabilise yourself while you were getting attacked with kisses. you feel rowan’s hands slipping underneath your shirt and pulled down your bra slightly so that he could actually feel you in his hands. his fingers felt cold and your nipples started to form stiff peaks which made the angel muse softly “excited already, aren’t you, darling?” he purred in your ears.
the one hand that was on your waist started to get a little impatient which made lèo pull away from the kiss to take off your shirt. with just one hand, he unclasped your bra and marveled at the sight of your breasts “well aren’t you just a pretty girl, hm?” you flush at his words before you felt his lips now going over to your breasts. rowan chuckles softly and lets go of one breast to tilt your chin upwards so that he could lean down and kiss you.
the demon began by kissing gently before his tongue swirled around your nipple, latching on it to make some marks that left you squirming on his lap and moaning into rowan’s lips. he alternates between the two breasts, making sure they get equal love and one of his hands went down to your skirt, lifting it up just gently so that he could play with your inner thigh. he could feel the heat and he shuddered a bit.
“are you wet already, ma amour?” he chuckled, his fingers teased their way to your panties, circling around your wet spot as you gripped tighter on his shirt. “you’re so cute, don’t you know?” he began to rub in slow gentle circles around your clothed nub and you squirmed even more.
rowan pulled away from the kiss and hummed “you like what he’s doing to you, sweetheart?” he asks as you nodded shyly. you let out a gasp when you felt your panties moved to the side and warm fingers slowly stroking up and down your slit. “l-lèo!” you whimpered out as the other let out a hum and watched you as he licked your nipple. “tell him what you want, sweetheart. use your words like a big girl,” rowan whispers as you feel your mind spin even more.
“p-please..”
“please what?”
“please.. please put it in–!” you gasp as you feel lèo’s fingers slipping into your slit. “shh.. relax, ( name ).. you’re tight right now” you nodded, trying to calm yourself down, but it felt really good. the demon’s fingers were bigger than yours, so even with two, you already felt more stretched compared to whenever you masturbated.
“you’re squeezing onto my fingers, does it feel that good, hm?” you nodded before you felt some fingers at your lips too. you looked to see rowan smiling. “you shouldn’t forget me either” you parted your mouth and without thinking, you started to suck which made him let out a groan. “looks like your pretty lips do know other tricks,” rowan muses.
you felt another finger slip into your cunt and you moaned around rowan’s fingers. “shh, it’s okay.. you can take it. i know you can, princess” and that was when lèo decided to use his thumb to rub your clit. you squirmed, the sensation was overwhelming you and the demon hummed. the both of them continued to take it slowly with you, and it wasn’t long until lèo finally found your g-spot.
your eyes rolled back and you tightened up around him again which made him hum “so that’s where your g-spot is,” he coos softly. and without a doubt, he changed the pace. his fingers began to hit your g-spot with every thrust and you began to drool around rowan’s fingers. it wasn’t long until you reached your orgasm, and lèo lets you ride it through before he continued.
“waitwaitwait–!” your words were muffled by rowan’s fingers but it could still be heard of course “we need to stretch you out, princess..” lèo murmured. but really, he just wanted to see you be a sobbing mess before he pushes his dick into you. you listened to his words, nodding, but with every thrust, you feel your mind slowly dumbing out at the stimulation.
was it three times already? you can’t tell. all you hear is both of their belts being taken off. you come out of your haze with a shudder as you felt your pussy juices being used as lube for both of their cocks. “wha.. i thought..”
“we both, want to take your virginity, sweetheart.” rowan says. your cunt has been loosening up with every orgasm you have, and you felt both of their tips rubbing against your entrance. “so, we have to share it, like always” the angel purred and your eyes widened. “that’s.. that’s not going to fit” you tried to reason with them.
“shh.. it’s fine.. we’ll make it fit. you trust us, don’t you, princess?”
you were swayed, but you nodded and you felt them both slowly entering your poor weeping cunt. you let out a little scream at the pain in the beginning but they both stopped to make sure you were alright. and when you were, they started to move in sync. you felt too full, it was too big and your mind felt numb.
“let go, sweetheart” rowan grunts softly. “let us take care of you.. just like we always had.”
#( the poetry ) : oneshot#( the muse ) : lèo jaccoud#( the muse ) : rowan collins#oc x reader#original character x reader#x reader#yandere x reader#male yandere x reader#yandere oc#monster fucker#monster x reader#monster boyfriend#demon x reader#demon original character#demon oc#angel oc#angel x reader#angel original character#roommate x reader#oc smut#smut
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Fallen From Grace
ONESHOT
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Caught between a loveless marriage and a past you can't forget, you return to LA, the City of Angels. As old flames rekindle, you're faced with the consequences of your choices. Would you still make a decision that could destroy everything you've built over the years to experience the emotions you've longed for? “For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing.” (Romans 7:19)
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X FEM!READER
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / HURT / FLUFF / ANGST
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.277
MASTERLIST
With your hands deep in the pockets of your jacket, your face buried in a thin scarf, and the warmth of your breath that was soaking into it, it was making you shiver, and your thoughts were thrown back to the ritual of smoking a cigarette. The need to smoke bit into you; thinking of lighting one was still addictive and punishing at the same time. It had been years since you quit smoking, right before you got married to your husband, because he had always hated the smell. Still, your husband was behind you and always had your back regarding your decision to turn your life around, and he became a shoulder to lean on in the change from a reckless young adult into a now responsible and mature woman.
But lately, this routine that you once liked so much seemed to turn into a cage with no way out. The fights with your husband had become more frequent, and his constant work stress added more to the high tension between the two of you. You both were too tired to talk openly to each other anymore and with the same empathy that used to exist. Last night was pretty much no different. A silent dinner, a few short words exchanged between the two of you, and some annoyed glances at each other, until he then got up and went to his laptop in the living room, while you went to the bedroom to read one of your books.
It was days like this, where you felt overwhelmed by your life, that your mind began to wander back to him, to Lucifer Morningstar. You had left Los Angeles almost ten years ago to chase your dreams, leaving him and everything else behind after you came to the realization that it felt more like a simple friendship to you, which had scared you more than it should have. Although you had kept in touch by texting each other every now and then, you hadn't talked to or seen each other in years.
The sun was now setting as you got into your car, and you knew that the decision to visit the City of Angels once again came from some deep, restless part inside of you, and you convinced yourself it wouldn't be a mistake before sliding off your wedding ring and letting it fall into one of your pockets.
Suddenly, a message from your husband appeared on your phone. Apparently, he won’t be home for dinner tonight. He was staying out late with a colleague. Relief washed over you as you replied with an excuse about having decided that you were going out with your best friends anyway before you set the car in motion and headed towards Los Angeles.
A few hours later, you saw the familiar evening lights of what you once called home. You aimed for the LUX, the spot that Lucifer owned. Soon enough, your eyes scanned the room, looking for the one person you hoped to see as you exchanged a few words with familiar faces, but your mind was solely focused on Lucifer.
And there he was. The presence of him hit you hard—the lights, the music... It was overwhelming, and you quickly made your way to the bar, where you sat down. The face beside you? Familiar. She hadn't changed a bit, still looking fierce and gorgeous.
Maze immediately looked at you, recognizing you quickly. "There's no way... is it? Is it really you?"
"Hello, Maze," you said, nodding in her direction and smiling at her.
"It’s been a while! Ten years?"
"Close enough."
She whistled. "Lucifer’s going to freak out when he sees you; you know that, right?"
You smiled again, taking a sip of the drink that she handed you. "Where is he now?"
"I don't know. Probably around somewhere and probably smoking."
Your heart raced as you tried to control your excitement and nervousness. You sipped your drink further, trying your hardest to distract yourself. Then the door opened, and you felt that familiar presence. The smell of cigarettes and cologne hit you, making you grip your glass tighter.
"Now, look who’s graced us with his divine presence," Maze announced almost sarcastically.
You turned around, and there he was—Lucifer Morningstar. His eyes met yours with shock before he tried to hide it like usual. He wore his trademark suit, the one that always made him look like he owned the world.
"What in the world are you doing here?"
"Hello, Lucifer. Have you lost your manners in the last decade?"
"I just didn’t expect you."
"You didn’t have to. I just stopped by."
Lucifer only grunted and sat down next to you for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours. He took a whiskey Maze handed him and sipped it, his silence speaking volumes.
"I just needed to get away, you know," you started, but trailed off, knowing he would see right through you.
"Finish your drink. I don’t want to talk here."
You nodded, finishing your drink quickly. Lucifer was tapping the counter impatiently, and Maze gave you a knowing look as you left. "Good luck, babe," she mouthed, winking at you.
You followed Lucifer into the elevator and then to the parking lot. Right now, his attitude annoyed you, since he used to be so different with you back then, and as soon as you were outside, he stopped and turned around to you.
"Where's your car? I will hold the door open for you."
"What? Excuse me, please? What did you just say?"
He only smirked slightly instead of answering you as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes. So you approached him slowly, placing a hand on his arm and feeling his muscles through his suit.
"I just thought you might want to see me again," you said softly, looking down to the ground.
"Do you think I’m not happy to see you?"
"The way you’re reacting right now, wanting me to get into my car and leave? No, not exactly."
"I just didn’t expect to see you again in LA. You simply surprised me."
You continued holding his arm, squeezing it a bit. "I simply missed you. Is it that wrong?"
"Your fault," he mumbled, finally lighting a cigarette. He took a drag and offered it to you. "Want one?"
"No, I quit years ago, don't you remember?"
He raised an eyebrow. "And do you still always do what your boyfriend wants? Do you follow his rules? Do you obey him?"
"Don’t be an asshole, Lucifer. It’s just complicated, okay?"
He handed you the cigarette anyway, and with a sigh, you took a drag. He leaned against your car, looking out over the city. The lights of Los Angeles twinkled like a thousand little stars.
"You’ve changed," he said after a minute, watching you from the corner of his eyes.
"I never changed. I grew only up."
"No, you’ve changed."
"I’m still me, just... older."
You stood in silence. Lucifer had always been a man of few words around you, but he said so much merely by being there.
"Why didn’t he come with you?" he suddenly asked, breaking the silence.
"He’s busy, working on a case."
"How did you end up with a lawyer, I wonder?"
"If you knew him, you’d understand. He’s dedicated, passionate, even."
"He took you away."
"I know. And that wasn’t my intention."
"Aren’t you here to find yourself again?" Lucifer asked, looking at you for a moment.
"No…"
"Then why? Tell me."
"I'm here because of you, Lucifer. I needed to talk. To feel at home again."
"You can't just show up out of nowhere and expect everything to be the same as it was before."
"I did it without thinking."
"You, who plans everything down to the last detail, doing something spontaneous?"
"I just wanted to see my best friend again."
But Lucifer was right, and you knew it. It was strange to be back in Los Angeles without having really thought about it or thought of any consequences. But the feeling you had in your soul blurred every logical thought.
He suddenly grabbed your hand and walked you toward his car.
"What are you doing? Where are we going?" You asked, but didn't fight him.
"It's a surprise. Just wait and see."
"A surprise? What's the plan?"
"Be quiet and sit tight." Lucifer grinned as he started the car.
After the silent ride in the car, you reached the outskirts of a familiar area, where he soon led you through a wrought-iron gate to a small, charming house with a great view of a lake. The very first things that caught your eye were a marble kitchenette and a leather sofa facing a TV that was mounted on the wall, but most especially so, the floor-to-ceiling window leading out to a terrace and the lake that looked nearly as big as the house itself.
"Is this a new place of yours?" you asked him.
"Yes, indeed, it is," Lucifer confirmed with pride. "But that is not the actual surprise. Follow me." He guided you out onto the terrace. "It's a little dark already, but can you recognize the view? Do you remember it?"
You furrowed your brow, following his gaze, and gasped as you finally realized and remembered. "Is this the place that I think it is?"
"Yes, the very spot where we spent that beautiful evening," Lucifer confirmed. "I simply thought you might appreciate the nostalgia and that I bought this place in the end."
"But how did you manage to rebuild all this?" you asked, quite overwhelmed.
"Hard work and a bit of devilish charm," he teased, turning to face you and smirking at your reaction.
You remembered that night clearly—with just Lucifer and yourself—when you were talking about your dreams and your future under the starry sky.
"This is incredible! I'm so happy for you, Lucifer," you admitted, though tears were forming in your eyes.
"You're happy for me because I bought this place?" Lucifer's eyes softened, searching for yours while he asked. "Then why do I think there's more to it than that? More than simple happiness?"
You turned away from him, blinking back tears. "Forget about it. I'm sorry; I didn't want to ruin your surprise."
Lucifer closed the distance between you quickly; his face was serious but still calm and composed. "Will you tell me why you really left back then? I don't really believe that your boyfriend could hold that much power to rip you away from everything that was so loved by you."
"You know exactly why I left," you finally said, looking at him again.
"Sure... Of course, I do. Because I always do." Lucifer answered with disappointment in his voice.
You nodded slowly, biting down on your lower lip, unsure how to proceed. "I think that I probably should go home," you whispered, the guilt creeping in, just wanting to drive back home to your apartment and forget about everything.
But Lucifer clenched his fists. "Perhaps you should, yes," he agreed reluctantly, taking a step closer to you. "But not before this," he mumbled, closing the distance between your lips.
Lucifer crashed his lips onto yours, pushing you back against the patio door. There was no denying at this point—this was so much more than just a friendly reunion. It was bringing back to life a love where the flame had never actually gone out.
He broke away slightly as he led you back into the house, his hands removing your jacket, and soon enough Lucifer loomed over you inside his bedroom, his eyes searching yours for permission and reassurance. You nodded, and he kissed you again—deeply and almost desperately.
His hands were touching your body as his lips nuzzled kisses down your neck, and you could feel your body arch into him, begging for more, which was enough for the two of you to quickly get rid of each other's clothes.
"I can't wait any longer," Lucifer confessed, his eyes locked with yours.
You met his gaze, your heart racing as you nodded, and he smiled, slowly guiding you onto the bed. His touch was almost soft as he positioned you beneath him.
For a moment, Lucifer looked at you, mumbling, "You are more beautiful than ever."
You blushed, goosebumps creeping onto your skin as his fingertips brushed along your collarbone and slowly down your arm until he kissed the inside of your wrist delicately.
"You're exquisite," he said softly before his lips traveled up your arm again, across your shoulder, and onto the curve of your neck.
He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, before his lips finally kissed your own. His mouth moved slowly against yours, listening to each sigh that came out of your mouth. You reached for his arms, bringing his hands to your tits, where his fingers gently squeezed them, his thumbs lightly stroking your sensitive nipples and feeling them harden.
Once done, Lucifer's hands went down to your waist, pulling you up to straddle him. He slowly lowered you down onto his cock and pushed himself into you. His eyes didn't leave yours as he moved in very slowly, filling you up completely.
"You feel incredible," he groaned, his hands holding your hips tightly. "I've wanted this for so long."
You began moving, your body slowly going up and down as you leaned forward just a little bit with your hands on his shoulders for balance as you were riding him, and Lucifer's hands slid up your back until he pulled you close, burying his face in your neck.
"You're so perfect," he murmured. "Every part of you is."
You shivered at his words and moaned softly as his hands now moved down to your stomach from your breasts, then back to your thighs, and though the moments were stretching on, Lucifer's thrusts were still gentle instead of fast and rough.
"You're simply amazing," he whispered in your ear. "I want to make you feel everything."
His words only heightened your lust, and you rode him even more eagerly until both of you were breathless, wanting more.
But Lucifer's eyes stayed on your face. "I wish this would last forever," he whispered.
You moaned again and closed your eyes, your body quickening in time with his upward thrusts as you both felt your approaching orgasm.
His thrusts grew urgent, his hands gripping you a little bit harder to guide you through the final moments before you came, and Lucifer's body shuddered against yours.
As soon as your orgasms began to subside, Lucifer's thrusts did likewise. He embraced you tightly, stroking your back, and kissed your forehead softly. "I have missed you more than you know."
You clung to him, your racing heart only now starting to slow down. "I've missed you too," you whispered, your voice shaking, before tensing up as a certain thought inside your head started to form itself, your eyes narrowing.
"Protection! I... I didn't think of—" You started, but your words seemed to be stuck in your throat. "I'm sorry, Lucifer. I should have been more careful!"
"Don't worry about it right now, my dear. Focus only on us. and this moment," he simply answered without any care, but you ignored his words, and just then your eyes fell on something that lay on the ground beside your clothes; his eyes followed in the same direction—your wedding ring, which you had left carelessly in one of your pockets. His eyes went from that ring to you, and only then did he realize what was actually on your mind.
"Wait, wait, wait," he whispered quietly, furrowing his brow as he pushed you off, got up, and picked up the ring slowly from the floor. "You... you're married to him? What? You're actually still with him? Are you kidding me?"
Your face went pale, and you couldn't deny the truth, nor was there any reason to try to lie to him. "Yes, I am, but—"
"But what!" He cut you off. "Is this some kind of devil's bargain? Did you come here to light up an old flame, all the while you're still wearing another man's ring? Is this some kind of sick joke to you?"
"No, no! Listen, Lucifer! Listen to me! I didn't come here to hurt you," you tried to explain, your voice breaking. "I came because I missed you and—"
"Missed me?" He laughed out loud and shook his head. "You come back into my life, get me all worked up, and then this? Oh, how the mighty have fallen. I must be quite the fool for thinking that you actually came back for me after ten years. How foolish I am, indeed."
"Listen! You don't understand! Just calm down and listen to me, please!" you pleaded, your face now red with tears that started to roll down your cheeks. "I never meant for this to happen! You know that! It just happened!"
"Never meant for it to happen?" Lucifer scoffed, anger suddenly giving way to a mocking laugh. "Oh, please, my dear. You do think this is some kind of joke, don't you? Did you come back just to test my patience?"
He turned away from you—his hurt was obvious as he threw your wedding ring across his bedroom. "How very amusing," he said bitterly. "A married woman who seeks out the Devil."
You reached out to him, your voice desperate, but he didn't let you touch him anymore. "Please, Lucifer, don't be like this. I never wanted to hurt you, I promise!"
He turned toward you again. "Don't be like this, you say? What did you expect? Should I just take this as some cruel joke of, what, fate? You think I should simply forgive and forget just because you come at me with a few tears and your excuses?
He had picked up a cigarette from the package lying on the side table of the bed and grabbed a lighter. "Here's a solution for you," he said, lighting the cigarette. "Why don't you go back home to your husband? I'm sure he's just waiting for you to come crawling back into his arms, so you can do what he wants some more."
You winced at the mockery and sarcastic tone in his voice. "Lucifer, please don't—"
"Don't what?" he interrupted you again. "What is it, huh? Don't you want me to remind you of the mistake you've just made? Don't make you face the reality of your actions? Of our... situation?"
He took another drag from the cigarette. "How amusing," he said bitterly. "I've spent most of my time in Hell, and with you, I finally got a taste of Heaven again, only to have it taken away from me in an instant..."
He flicked the cigarette into an ashtray, letting it go out by itself as it continued to burn down. "I'm supposed to be the Devil," he said, his lips now showing a rather sad and hurt smile. "But right now, I feel like I am the biggest fool in all of creation there ever was..."
The silence fell between you, and there, in his eyes, was only hurt, pain, and pure anger.
"I'm so sorry for everything, Lucifer. I never wanted to hurt you, really! Just believe me! Please!" You pleaded and begged.
He sat down at the edge of the bed, his anger now replaced by sadness, especially given the look on his face. "So, now what?" he asked. "What do you think happens to us after all this?"
"I don't know," you said, your voice trembling as you took a deep breath. "I wish things could be different, but they aren't. Believe me, I know this was wrong. I was wrong."
Lucifer took a deep breath as well to try to relax himself and calm down. "Well, wishing won't do anything, nor will prayers," he said, getting to his feet. "And if you want me to be completely honest, then I think you should leave."
You realized you were feeling regret—this was the end of what could have been all along, what could've been all those years ago. "I'm so sorry, Lucifer," you said again, through the tears that were now streaming down your face. "I wish there was a way..."
He smiled at you sadly and shrugged, handing you your clothes. "Here's to the past," he said bitterly. "May it stay there."
You took them from him, brushing your fingers across his while doing so, and began dressing quickly. "Goodbye, Lucifer," you said softly, your voice cracking again.
"Goodbye," he replied as his eyes watched you walk towards the door and into the living room. The taxi was called quickly, and you turned to go out of the front door, but you stopped for a second, turning around to the bedroom door again that he was about to close. "Go on and don't keep the taxi driver waiting."
After he closed the door, you quickly grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled a note, tears falling onto the paper and smudging the ink. You left it on the coffee table and stormed out, slamming the door shut behind you. The street was already dark, with only a few lights on each side of the road, and you quickened your pace to the main road. After a few minutes, you could finally see the approaching lights of a taxi.
The taxi driver soon enough returned you to your car, which was still parked in the LUX. Once inside your car, you glanced at the time, which was approaching midnight, and then you noticed the three messages from your husband and some missed calls from him that you quickly opened nervously.
9:42 PM: "Where are you? I'm back, and you're not here."
10:39 PM: "When are you coming back? Why don’t you answer? I’m worried."
11:16 PM: "I called your friends, but they said you weren't even with them tonight. What's going on? Please call me!"
Tears silently rolled down your face again as guilt consumed you. How had things gone so wrong? Your life had been perfect—or so you thought all the time. You’d spent the last ten years forgetting about your feelings for Lucifer, pushing them aside, and now, in one evening, you’d destroyed everything.
With trembling fingers, you tried calling your husband, but there was no answer. The worst part of this whole mess wasn’t just that you’d probably destroyed your life, but how little you’d considered the consequences of your actions with Lucifer in the first place. If karma were real, you thought, you’d crash while driving back home. But two hours later, you found yourself standing in the parking lot of your apartment again.
Entering it quietly and closing the door behind you, you saw your husband asleep on the big couch in your living room, his mobile phone still next to him. With one hand, you covered your mouth to stifle a sob, not wanting to wake him up, and you paused, uncertain of what to do, then slowly removed your jacket, throwing it over a chair, and decided to lay down beside him.
You couldn't help but remember how you both had always been a great team, at least at the start of your relationship back then, facing the darkest moments and hours together and supporting each other through thick and thin. He’d always been there for you; maybe he's been too distant at times, but he's been there nonetheless.
And now your endless thoughts about your mistake kept you awake until exhaustion finally took over. Later, when you woke up, your husband was gone. You hoped it had all been a bad nightmare, but the note on the table proved otherwise:
"When I get back from work, you tell me what the hell happened! And don’t even try to call me today! We'll sit down and talk in person."
You stared at the note, rereading it several times before crumpling it and throwing it on the floor in frustration. You grabbed your coat and left, not even bothering to look in the mirror. At the pharmacy, you were quick, buying what you needed before heading back home. Once sitting down on the couch, staring at the morning-after pill on the table, you knew you should take it right away, but something inside you held you back.
Your eyes kept wandering around, seeking distraction, but just as you were about to scream, the doorbell rang, making you jump. You tried to calm yourself before opening the door, but it wasn’t your husband who you thought might have left his keys behind. Standing there was Lucifer, who decided to step inside your apartment without even waiting for an invitation.
"What in the world are you doing here?" you asked, staring at him while closing the front door.
Lucifer pulled a crumpled note from his pocket—the note you had left for him. "Why do I have to read such nonsense?"
He held up the note before reading it out loud.
"Lucifer, the heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it? I wish I could."
"Lucifer," you began, but he cut you off.
"Well, isn’t this poetic? The Book of Jeremiah—17:9 to be exact!" His voice sounded neutral, but you could see the fire in his eyes. "I guess the Devil isn’t the only one who’s capable of deceit, isn't he? How charming that you choose to repent now, but I’m afraid it won’t absolve you of the choices you made, my dear... I do admire your attempt at biblical drama! Quite charming, isn't it?"
Your hands were now sweaty, and your heart pounded so fast that you thought it was going to explode. "Lucifer, please..." You managed to whisper, but he shook his head.
"I suppose that’s the true nature of humans, isn’t it? Always seeking redemption when it suits them." His voice relaxed slightly, but the intensity behind it remained, and only then did he grab something from his pocket again. It was your wedding ring. "I’m not a priest, my dear. You know exactly who I am, and I won’t be so easily fooled by your attempts at repentance. I'd say that you owe me more than that."
You had barely started to open your mouth when the sound of keys at the door made you turn around in shock. You looked over just in time to see your husband standing there, his face full of anger and surprise at the same time.
"What the hell is that man doing here?" he asked, staring at you.
"Listen! It's not what you think," you started, but your voice cracked, unable to find the right words to even explain yourself.
Meanwhile, Lucifer gave him an almost bored look and crossed his arms over his chest. "Ah, the husband has finally arrived! How very delightful," he said. "I'm Lucifer, and you must've forgotten about me, I see!"
Your husband glared at him. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Well, I certainly wasn't expecting to be welcomed with open arms by the man of the hour. But then again, I've never been one to shy away from a bit of chaos."
You took a deep breath, trying to get a grip on the situation. "Listen, we need to talk..."
But your husband's eyes were still on Lucifer, looking him up and down. "About what? How obviously you have been cheating on me?"
You winced at the accusation, but Lucifer merely laughed. "Cheating? Now, that's a rather strong word. I prefer to think of it as rekindling old flames."
Your husband's hands clenched into fists, and he let out a scoff. "You! You have no right to be here. Leave. Now."
Lucifer's eyes narrowed, and for a slight moment, he revealed what really lay beneath. "How quaint! I assure you, I'm only a catalyst. Or, let's just say, the devil's advocate, if you will."
Your husband took a step back, his face turning pale for a second. "What the fuck are you trying to pull here, huh?"
Lucifer stepped closer to him, his smile turning into a grin as he pointed to the pill on the table in the living room, which he had noticed all along. "That little token of affection over there might reveal more with its symbolism than you may realize."
The eyes of your husband went to the pill on the table and then back to Lucifer. "What... what do you mean? What the hell are you even talking about?"
Lucifer's smile widened as he leaned forward. "Why don't you take a guess? Or maybe you would prefer to leave it to your imagination?"
"My imagination? You're obviously fucking my wife, and now you are standing here like you have some right to her? As if you own her?"
Lucifer let out a dramatic sigh. "Well, I suppose you could say I am more of an old flame to your dear wife. But let's not get down to the boring details."
Suddenly, your husband stepped forward, his anger overflowing. "Get out of my house. Now!"
"Oh, such a fiery temper. Are you sure you're not harboring a bit of Hellfire yourself?" Lucifer said sarcastically and threw his hands dramatically in the air.
The eyes of your husband widened again, and he took a step back as soon as he could while he looked into his eyes. "I'm warning you. Just leave..."
Lucifer's eyes changed, his stare reaching deep into your husband's soul. "And I assure you that I'm not someone that you want to provoke."
He took a step closer, and your husband's confidence broke down as he looked him in the eyes. "You know what? I'm done with this. I'm leaving! Don't you dare touch me, whatever the hell you are!"
Lucifer's eyes followed him, and he smirked proudly. "As you wish."
The apartment was almost completely silent as the door slammed shut behind your husband, and you stood there, paralyzed, the realization of that moment and what had just happened finally setting in, but Lucifer snapped you out of it as he looked at the morning-after pill on the table once again.
"My dear, really? Do you think that this pill is going to undo what's done now?" Lucifer started. "Do you actually believe that some sort of pill will stop something divine, like... Oh, I don't know, my touch, as an example? I'm afraid it doesn't work that way, darling."
You looked at him with shame, lust, and regret in your eyes. "What now?" You asked him, whispering silently.
"What happens now will be entirely your choice," he said, moving closer to you and stretching out his hand to touch your cheek. "You see, I very much adore you, and I have for quite a while."
His hands were soft but strong, and a shiver ran down your spine. "You can either act like nothing happened, or maybe you can accept it and see where it takes you," he said, his eyes locked on yours. "You've got a choice to make."
He stepped closer, his lips touching your ear as he spoke. "You could try to forget about the night we just had, but you and I both know better. The seed has been sown, and the question is, at this point, whether you'll let it grow."
Lucifer took a few steps back and pushed the front door open, just enough to fit through. "Whatever you choose, I will be here, waiting. And trust me," he said with a smirk, "I have all the time in the world."

#lucifer tv#lucifer#lucifer morningstar#lucifer netflix#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#lucifer x y/n#lucifer fanfiction#lucifer fic#lucifer fox#lucifer smut#lucifer show#lucifer angst#lucifer imagine#lucifer on netflix#lucifer on fox#tom ellis#oneshot#fluff#angst#smut#cross posted on ao3#cross posted on wattpad#reader insert#writeblr#artists on tumblr#writers on tumblr#hurt/comfort#janie hellion#lucifer x female reader
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Petnames they call you…
includes: Michael Myers, Pinhead, Brahms Heelshire, Art the Clown, Sun and Moon (fnaf), Marta (Outlast 2)
Michael
Bro does not speak and he most definitely does not sign to you, he doesn’t care to communicate that way, so you have to learn to read his body language. Which isn’t easy when he can stand stock still for literal hours and you can barely tell if he’s breathing, but I digress. You learn. Every slight variation in the tilt of his head, his hands clenching at his sides, the size of his steps, how close he sits to you - everything. That’s how you determine his affections at any given time. You could profess your undying love for this man while he just -_-
And when you’re finished, he’ll place his hand over your knee and you’ll burst into tears because that’s basically his way of conveying a sentiment along the lines of: “you are my sun, my sea, my sky; the only one to ever understand and love me; the only soul I ever desire to know; the love in my heart for you is the only redeemable characteristic I possess for the vessel of evil I am powerless in resisting and yet that love is enough to keep me from damnation because it is you; everything is you; every breath I take behind this mask is a prayer to you; and I love you”. So yeah. Cry more.

Pinhead
This omniscient mf is not about to fall short when it comes to petnames, that’s for sure. He’s busting out the most poetic and long-winded shit known to man. Calling you things like “my divine work of sunshine”, “ethereal delight”, “goddess/god of this pinned heart” - and Pinhead makes them up on the fly, too. Has a new one almost everyday but cycles back through old favourites.
Brahms
Every praiseful and complimentary petname he can think of, quite frankly: “angel”, “darling”, “sweetheart”, “pretty one”, “beautiful”, “princess/prince” - all those typical ones, but Brahms likes to invent petnames that call attention to parts of you, by referring to you as things like “pretty smile”, “pretty eyes”, “angel voice”. He may not have a lot of relationship experience, but there’s no end to Brahms’ creativity when it comes to complimenting you.
Art
Doesn’t speak, but signs petnames to you instead (and it’s never normal petnames either, he’s signing shit like “pet”, “button”, “eyeball”, “, and has specific hand gestures that are reserved for you, like crooking his finger to beckon you over in a certain way, blowing you a kiss, gesturing for you to twirl on the spot and then clapping his hands excitedly over how you look.
Sun and Moon
Surprisingly, these two actually share the petnames they call you because they both feel the same way about you and regard you as such. To them, you are “lovely one”, “sweet one”, and they’ll call you their “favourite smile”, too. Sun and Moon are both inclined to call you “little one”, as well, because they are both very, very tall.
None of your typical petnames apply here. She’ll be calling you things like “righteous one”, “sweet righteousness”, “God’s pure one”, “righteous answer”, “sweet answer”, “divine answer” - Marta believes you are the answer to her life, the path she follows for God in eradicating all heretics and you are her reward, her divine and righteous answer, and she will refer to you as such. To Marta, it isn’t even poetic, it is simple truth.
#michael myers#pinhead#brahms heelshire#michael myers x reader#pinhead x reader#brahms heelshire x reader#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#fnaf sun and moon#sun and moon#sun and moon fnaf#outlast 2#outlast 2 marta#marta outlast 2#headcannon#headcannons#imagine#imagines#monster#monster fucker#monster fudger#monster fuqqer#monster x reader#slasher#slasher x reader#slashers x reader#slasher imagine
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omg this just popped into my head and i desperately need it like i literally will not be able to stop thinking about it about it till it is written but, ethan landry x reader fic based on gods and monsters by lana del rey oml like it would be phenomenal… i don’t want it to incorporate the lyrics i just want it based on the idea of the song? but not about them being actual gods and monsters like to her ethan is a god. especially the lyrics “this is heaven, what i truly want. it’s innocence lost.”. basically reader is super innocent and ethan sees her as an angel and feels the need to ruin her and she sees him as a god and is obsessed with him. super smutty and him praising her and talking her through it. i know this was a lot but i am obsessed with your writing and i think if you wrote this it would be amazing, but only if you’re comfortable 🫶☺️
HI! I hope this was what you wanted. 💕
Gods & Monsters - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: You're obsessed with Ethan and he's obsessed with you, but he'd dying to destroy your innocence.
Contains: Fluff-ish moments, Smut - Oral(m and f receiving), fingering, p in v, riding, rough-ish sex. Reader isn't a virgin but doesn't have a lot of experience.
A/N: This was one of the fics I lost the other day, and I'm so sad because I liked what I'd already written before. BUT I was determined to get this done lmao
You didn’t expect to fall so hard for Ethan Landry. What started as a small crush on one of your friends led to full-blown infatuation. Once you found yourself hanging off every word that slipped past his perfect lips, always making sure you were beside him whenever you’d go out with your friends, and even letting your grades slip a little just so you’d have the excuse to be alone with him to study, you realized how fucked you were. You didn’t care, though, because he’s everything you wanted.
He was tall, and very attractive. But what really sucked you in was the way he lit up whenever he talked to you about the things he was passionate about. The way his voice sounded first thing in the morning when you’d all spent the night at Tara’s. The way he ignored any other girls that looked in his direction, at least when he was with you.
Ethan was just as caught up in you as you were with him. The first night you walked into Tara’s, he could’ve sworn you were literally glowing. He thought you were the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen, and once he talked to you and realized how sweet you were, he knew he had to make you his. He found himself daydreaming about taking you on dates, holding your hand, kissing you. But sometimes, his thoughts weren’t so innocent.
He knew you weren’t a virgin, but after a drunken game of ‘Never Have I Ever’ turned sexual, he learned that there were a lot of things you hadn’t done. He wanted to be the first, and hopefully only person you’d do those things with. He even went as far as wondering how you’d sound, the faces you’d make, how much of him you could take in your mouth before it was too much. He felt a little guilty from time to time for thinking about you in that way, because you were just so sweet. But the desire to destroy your innocence just kept getting stronger, no matter how hard he’d try to push those thoughts about you to the side.
The two of you shamelessly flirted with each other, so much that the rest of your friends thought there was something more going on than there was. It wasn’t uncommon for Ethan to pull you into his lap whenever there wasn’t an empty seat available beside him, or for the two of you to be so caught up in your own conversations that you’d forget your friends were even there. He wanted to take things to the next level, but he’d always get nervous and shut down whenever he got close to kissing you.
You lived down the hall from Tara, which made it so convenient for you and Ethan’s study sessions. Whenever you had plans with your friends, Ethan would come to your apartment to study with you before. With exams coming up, Ethan couldn’t stop thinking about how he needed to get over his nerves and finally make a move. He knew he’d still get to see you, but he wouldn’t have the excuse to spend alone time with you.
As Ethan sat on your bed, his fingers moving against his keyboard, you started to get bored. He kept peaking over his laptop screen to see you stretched out on your stomach at the foot of your bed, scrolling through your phone.
“That’s not homework,” he said, playfully scolding you as you sat up to look at him.
“If I have to keep looking at anything school related, I’m going to go crazy.”
“We still have over an hour before we have to go to Tara’s. What would you like to do?” He asked, closing his computer to give you his attention.
“We could watch a funny movie. I need to laugh,” you suggested, as he shook his head.
“We don’t have enough time for that…but,” he said, sitting his laptop on the bed beside him. “I know how to make you laugh.”
He smirked as he crawled closer to you. You knew what was coming, the slight look of panic in your eyes making him chuckle before his fingers dug into your sides.
“Ethan,” you whined, trying to grab at his hands to pull them off you. You were starting to tear up from laughing, and your breathing was getting heavier. “Stop it! You’re going to make me fall off the bed!”
“I’d never let that happen,” he said, his fingers not letting up.
“Seriously, Ethan!” You were starting to wheeze from laughing so hard, so he finally pulled his hands away. You placed one of your hands on your chest as you tried to take deep breaths, as Ethan settled back into the spot he was in before on your bed. “That was so mean.”
“I think it’s funny that you’ve never tried to get me back,” he said, a smug look on his face. “Is it because I’m stronger than you?”
“Knowing you, you’d have me pinned to the bed so I wouldn’t be able to move while you tickled me.”
Ethan got a little caught up in the idea of that. He wanted to have you pinned to the bed, but not to tickle you. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you were moving closer to him, the only thing bringing him back into the moment was when your fingertips started to move against his sides.
“Hey!” he said through his laughter as he grabbed at your hands. You weren’t going to give up easily, so you moved to straddle him, pulling your hands away every time he reached for them. “Please, you gotta stop!”
“No,” you said, your hands moving further up his ribs, making him laugh even harder. He knew it wasn’t meant to be sexual, but the way your ass was rubbing against him as you moved was making him hard.
“Stop!” he yelled, finally grabbing your hands. Your face dropped as you looked at him, and he immediately felt guilty for yelling at you like that. “I’m sorry…you’re just,” he said, letting out a gasp once you started to move off him, your eyes going wide once you felt how hard he was underneath you. “That. You’re making me hard.”
“Oh,” you softly said, staring at the bulge in his jeans. “Is it a bad thing that I did?”
“No…I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he sighed, before he sat up. “Does it make you uncomfortable that you do that to me?”
He watched your cheeks turn pink at his question. This wasn’t how he planned on making his move, but the door was wide open for him to have the conversation.
“No,” you said, “have I made you hard before?”
“I get hard just thinking about you,” he confessed, the sexual tension in the room getting stronger as each second passed.
You were starting to get nervous as you sat there. You didn’t have the most experience in the world, your previous sexual encounters with your ex mainly consisted of you just laying there and waiting until he was done, so you didn’t know how to give a blow job. But you wanted to learn. You wanted Ethan to teach you.
“Can I…suck it?” you asked, his eyes growing wide. “Sorry, stupid question.”
“No, it’s not stupid…do you want me to tell you how to do it?” he asked, as you smiled and nodded. “Okay, uh, I’ll just get these off.”
He slid off the side of your bed and unbuttoned his jeans before shimmying them down his legs. You gawked as you saw the tent in his boxers, wondering if you were in over your head for even thinking you could do this.
“I hate to ask this…” no he didn’t. “But would you want to get on the floor? It’d be easier for you.” You nodded as you slid off the side of the bed and stood in front of him. “Wait,” he said, once you started to drop to your knees. You stood back up to face him, as he leaned in to kiss you. You needily kissed him back, your hands on his cheeks as he started to rub your hips. Once you pulled back, he smiled at you. “You don’t feel like you have to do this, right?”
“No, I want to do this,” you said, looking at him as you sank onto the floor.
“Fuck…eye contact like that is good,” he said, running his fingers through your hair. “I guess I’ll just slide these down.”
His fingers hooked under the waistband of his boxers as he slid them down his thighs, his cock springing free right in front of your face. He let out a sweet laugh once he noticed how wide your eyes got.
“Do I just put it in my mouth?” you asked, as he groaned at how innocent you were.
“Let’s start with just touching it,” he suggested, as you nodded and reached your hand up. “Wrap your hand around it…just like that, baby,” he said, taking a deep breath as he tried to contain himself. “Now move your hand back and forth, but not too fast.”
You did as he said, your eyes glancing between his and his cock. You weren’t sure if you were good at what you were doing, but he was breathing heavier the longer you did it.
“Do you want to try to put it in your mouth?” he asked, as you nodded and leaned forward. “How about you just do what you think is right and I’ll tell you if it’s bad or good?”
“Okay,” you shyly said, hoping that you would get it right.
Ethan’s biggest fantasy was coming to fruition. His head was spinning as you took the head of his cock in your mouth, your hand still stroking him. Even though you weren’t a virgin, he still felt like he was devirginizing you, at least in this way.
“That’s perfect,” he said, his eyes looking into yours as you sucked on his sensitive tip. “Try to take a little more.”
You did as he said, easing a little more of him into your mouth. His hand tangled in your hair, his grip loose. The last thing he wanted was to push you too far and make you want to stop when you’d just started. He was about to ask you for more, when you boldly took as much of him as you could in your mouth, to the point that you were gagging around him. You quickly pulled your head back, refusing to make eye contact like you’d just done something wrong.
“Hey,” Ethan said, his hand that was in your hair moved to your chin. He tilted your head so you’d look at him, your eyes already watery from the gagging. “If you want to keep going, there’s a little tip that helps with that.”
He showed you the thumb trick, and talked to you about bobbing your head too, along with moving your hand. Once you felt like you had a better understanding of what you needed to do, you leaned forward, taking just as much of him in your mouth as you did before.
You were still gagging a little, but not as bad as you did the first time. Your mouth kept getting more and more wet, the feeling making Ethan groan. His hand snaked back in your hair as he fought the urge to thrust in your mouth.
“You’re doing such a good job,” he praised, “Twist your hand a little…oh fuck.”
You were catching on quickly, and Ethan was so proud of you. Your eyes stayed on his, even when tears started to slip past your lower lash line. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, his grip on your hair tightening.
“Can I try something?” he asked, his eyes pleading with yours. You hummed around him to let him know he could, because the last thing you wanted to do was pull him out of your mouth.
He started to thrust past your lips as you gagged around him, your free hand gripping your thumb as hard as you could. Big, fat teardrops were flowing down your cheeks, but you were loving it. His eyes were fluttering as his jaw dropped open, but he still stayed focused on you, not wanting any of this to be too much.
“I’m gonna cum,” he said, his voice a little raspy from his panting. “Can I cum in your mouth?”
You hummed around him again to respond, the vibrations around his cock sending him over the edge as his hand tensed up in your hair, tugging on it harder than he wanted to. You just kept moaning around him, so turned on as his salty cum coated your tastebuds. He gave a few more weak thrusts as his hand in your hair relaxed before he slowly slid out of your mouth.
“Are you okay?” he asked, reaching down to take your hand. He helped you to your feet before wiping the tears off your cheeks.
“Yeah, I liked that,” you said, your voice raw from all the gagging. “Can we do it again?”
“We can do anything you want to,” he said, placing his hands on your hips to hold you close. “But right now, can I eat you out?”
“Oh, Um,” you mumbled, your cheeks getting rosy at the idea. “You want to do that?”
“I’m not your ex,” he said, smirking at you. “I bet he never made you cum.”
“He didn’t,” you sighed, as Ethan backed you towards the bed.
“I will,” he said, as he started to lift your shirt.
Ethan got you out of your jeans and shirt, leaving you in just your bra and panties. He hovered over you, his mouth moving against your neck as his hand roamed your body. You were squirming as you tried to patient, but it was getting harder for you, especially when his hand reached in between your thighs and rubbed you over your panties.
“So wet,” he mumbled against your neck, his breath giving you goosebumps. “I can’t wait to taste you.”
He pulled his hand away as he sat up, grabbing your hands for you to sit up, too. His hands reached around you to unhook your bra, his mouth not leaving your neck as he slid the straps down your arms and threw it to the other side of the room.
“We have to go to Tara’s soon,” you reminded him, as he pulled away and started to laugh.
“We’re probably going to be late.”
He leaned down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You started to whimper as he sucked, pulling off it with a soft pop before he moved to the other side.
Once his lips trailed further down your body, you were trying so hard to be in the moment, but your mind started to wander. You practically worshiped the ground Ethan walked on, and all he wanted in that moment was you, but you still didn’t know if this was going to anything more than a friends with benefits situation, or if he wanted to be with you like you wanted to be with him.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, pulling you from your thoughts as he started to kiss your inner thighs.
“Mmm, it’s nothing,” you moaned once he started to suck your flesh into his mouth.
He pulled away to look at you, “No, tell me.”
You sighed in frustration, both from him stopping and you really didn’t want to pour your heart out to him in that moment. But he just kept staring at you, waiting for you to say something.
“I’ve…fuck,” you sighed, taking a deep breath. “I want this…but I need to know how you feel about me.”
He smiled at you as your blush spread across your cheeks. “You haven’t realized that I’m in love with you yet?”
“In love with me?” you asked, as he slid your panties down your legs.
“Mhm, I’m fucking obsessed with you,” he said, before he buried his head between your thighs.
“Shit,” you gasped, as his tongue licked fat stripes from your entrance to your clit.
He started to focus on your clit, giving all the attention to your needy bundle of nerves. You looked down to see that he was watching you, taking in all the little faces you were making. He was alternating between swirling and lightly sucking, the stimulation making your entire body feel hot.
He slid one of his fingers inside of you, your legs feeling shaky as he moved it against the spot inside of you that you weren’t even sure existed. He watched you start to fall apart over just one finger, and once he added another one, you were a whimpering mess. He licked your clit a few more times before he pulled away to talk to you, his fingers still moving.
“You never told me how you feel about me,” he said, curving his fingers to apply more pressure.
“Unfff, fuck,” you whined, your hands tightly gripping the comforter underneath you.
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll stop,” he playfully said, smirking as his fingers brought you closer to the edge.
Your brain was turning to mush, but you pulled yourself together for a second, not wanting him to stop. “I’m in love with you, too.”
He leaned back down to your clit, sucking on it a little harder than he had before. Your whines got louder as the euphoric feeling washed over you, his free hand holding down your bucking hips. It felt so good that your eyes started to water, your entire body tingling as he worked you through it.
Just as you came down from your high, you heard a knock coming from your front door. You were too fucked out from Ethan’s fingers to even care, as he started to laugh.
“I bet that’s Tara,” he said, as he laid down beside you. “We’re late.”
“Fuck,” you groaned, lazily sliding your naked body off the side of your bed, landing on your feet.
You grabbed your robe and put it on, your legs still wobbly as you made your way to the front door. You looked out the peephole to see Tara and Mindy.
“Hey,” Tara said once you opened the door, her smile dropping once she noticed you weren’t dressed. “Are you still coming over?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there soon,” you said, noticing both of them staring at something. “What?”
“Is Ethan here?” Mindy asked, a smirk playing on her lips as she realized what was going on.
“Yeah, we’ll both be over in a few,” you said, still not understanding what they were looking at.
“Okay…you might want to cover that up before you come over,” Mindy said, gesturing to your neck as Tara started to giggle.
You bit your bottom lip as the embarrassment hit, realizing that Ethan sucking on your neck earlier must’ve left a hickey.
“No, you know what? You guys finish whatever ‘studying’ you’re doing, then come over. We’re sorry for interrupting,” Tara said, fighting off her laughter as she and Mindy walked down the hall to her apartment.
You sighed as you closed the door, knowing that you and Ethan were definitely going to be grilled once you did go to Tara’s.
“Why didn’t you tell me you put this on my neck?” you said, glancing at it in the mirror after you walked back in your room.
“Are you embarrassed that they know you’re mine?” he questioned, walking up behind you. He rested his head against your shoulder, but your mind was in a haze once you felt his hard cock pressing against you.
“You know how long I’ve wanted to be yours? I’m definitely not embarrassed,” you said, making him laugh as he moved your hair to the side the place more kisses to your neck.
“Well, I did hear them say we should finish studying,” he said, as his hand reached over to untie your robe. “I’m not done studying you yet.”
“Fuck,” you gasped, when his hand started to massage one of your breasts, gently pinching at your nipple. Your back leaned against his chest as you relaxed into his touches, your breathing getting heavier as his hand trailed lower. “Can I be on top?”
“For a little bit, yeah,” he mumbled against you as his fingers rubbed across your still-soaked pussy. “Is that okay?”
“Mhm.”
You had so many things you wanted to do with Ethan, so many things you hadn’t experienced yet. Any nerves you had about your inexperience faded, your confidence showing as you got on top to straddle him.
“Take your time, I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, as you grabbed his cock that was resting against his lower stomach. You lined him up with your entrance and started to sink down on him. “So tight,” he groaned, as you tried to get used to the stretched-out feeling. He wasn’t all the way in and you already felt so full.
“Mmm,” you moaned once you’d taken all of him, your ass meeting the top of his thighs.
You took a minute, trying to adjust your legs to the most comfortable position as his hands ran up your sides. Once you started to bounce on him, his hands went to your hips to help you move. Your bottom lip went in between your teeth as you held eye contact with him. Once he started to thrust up into you, your hands went to your breasts, massaging them as he helped your hips meet his.
He loved having you on top, and he loved watching the way your tits bounced, but he needed to be in control. He needed to push your limits a little until you were falling apart underneath him. He held your hips in place a few seconds before he flipped you over, a squeal flying out of your mouth. He smirked down at you before he grabbed the back of your thighs, pushing them toward you with his hands.
“Stop me if anything hurts, okay?” he said, as you smiled and nodded. He slid back inside of you, his hands right below the back of your knees as he started to pound into you.
Your mouth fell open as he fucked you, every sound that built up in your throat flying out. He was so deep, but the tip of his cock hit your g-spot with every thrust.
“That feel good?” he asked, pushing your legs closer to you. You babbled in response, the new angle making him go even deeper. “Look at you, so cock drunk, so perfect.”
All you could do was whimper as you felt yourself getting close. You were fighting to keep your fluttering eyes open, because you didn’t want to miss a single second of watching him. The beautiful boy that you’d fallen so hard for had a thin layer of sweat on his forehead that his curls were starting to stick to, his bottom lip was in between his teeth. You felt so submissive as you just laid there and took it. You were okay with him using you in whatever way he wanted, because you’d do anything for him.
“You gonna cum, baby?” he asked, as he felt your walls start to flutter.
“Yes!” you cried out, your hands shakily gripping the comforter again as the wave crashed into you so hard your vision got fuzzy. You kept trying to talk as he fucked you through it, his teeth showing as he smiled at your babbles.
“I’m almost there, baby. Can you take it a little longer?” he asked as your eyes peeled open to look at him.
“Yes, it feels so good,” you moaned, as he sped up, chasing his orgasm.
Your body kept jolting like little aftershocks from the intensity of your own orgasm, and you were feeling a little overstimulated, but the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. He was going so fast and so deep as he panted, mumbling your name as his head started to roll back.
“Gonna…fuck. Cum,” he said, pulling his cock out and shooting his release all over your tummy. He caught his breath as he looked at you through his hooded eyes. You smiled at him as he moved to lay on the bed beside you.
“I think we need to shower,” you said, glancing down at his cum on you. “I don’t really have anything that has a manly scent, though.”
“That’s okay. I’ll get to smell like you,” he said, his fingertips brushing against your arm.
After your shower with Ethan, you concealed the giant purple mark on your neck and took the walk of shame over to Tara’s. Your friends got quiet as you walked in, glancing back and forth between you and Ethan.
“Sooo,” Chad said, noticing Ethan’s wet hair, “Did you two finally realize that you’re meant to be together?”
“Oh yeah,” Ethan said, as Chad walked over to dap him up.
“It’s about time. It was getting exhausting to watch the two of you,” Mindy said, as Tara nodded in agreement.
You, Ethan and Chad walked over to sit on the couch as Mindy pushed play on the movie she was waiting to start until you got there. After a few minutes, Chad looked over to Ethan.
“Dude, this is a little blunt, but you smell so good right now.”
You started to giggle as Ethan laughed and wrapped his arm around you, holding you close.
“He’s right, you do smell good.”
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Sunday being head of the Oak Family. What if reader is the head of other Family who is trying to act as political opposition? Acting all tough, even hostile, trying to be a strong woman and a leader.
Sunday knows solution and she can be easily fixed!
Reader simply lacks a husband and couple of kids to care for so our benevolent angel Sunday will generously provide it for her, everyone deserves to have family, even bitchy arrogant women like reader.

Thank you thank you!! The content that humiliates arrogant reader is my favorite ><!! I think Sunday will not discipline you immediately, but try to give you a chance…
TW: yandere, non-con, brainwashing, mind control, housewife kink, inappropriate traditional concepts (language about serving husband and family)
Which family are you the leader of? Alfalfa who controls economy, Bloodhound who maintains security, Iris who develops culture and entertainment, or Nightingale who is responsible for construction?
Depending on which family you belong to, your experience may be a little different… If you are the leader of Alfalfa, then it is expected that you will use finances as your leverage against Sunday's leadership, such as refusing to pass some reimbursements. Of course, those are non-essential expenses… but they are quite troublesome, because those are the activities Mr. Sunday wants to organize. If you're a Bloodhound, you can expect to show him your fangs, taunt him, and quietly frame him. If you were Iris, you might make some promotional videos of your own and use some subtle ways to disparage Sunday, knowing that all negative press is banned in Penacony. If you are Nightingale, then you will find some excuse to pause the construct, especially those designs that Mr. Sunday likes.
But no matter which family you are the leader of, you do not hide your hostility and provocation towards Sunday. You were tired of the mask of hypocrisy on his face. He hindered you from becoming the leader and representative of The Family! You repeatedly framed him with conspiracy, sneered in his face, and pushed the atmosphere in the conference room to be tense. Some members have reminded you that there should never be conflicts or disputes among family members. Well, of course you don't want to argue with Mr. Sunday, so you reply perfunctorily. The teachings of Lord Xipe are in our hearts and we just communicate.
Sunday. You feel like he's actually the one adding fuel to the fire. He always stares at you with a kind of pity, condescension, and a perfect smile, as if you are making trouble unreasonably. "Praying for you," he said. "The anger and arrogance in your heart will only serve as thorns to stab you. It is important to learn to bow your head reverently and humbly."
You want to roll your eyes. Of course you believe in Xipe, but you don't want to be in the same family as Sunday. Feeling that there is some strange and terrifying grand truth behind that flawless mask, but you don't want to understand it at all. To live in harmony with such a guy? Maybe it could happen in a few hundred years.
Again. You used some conspiracy to destroy Sunday's reputation. This time… it almost worked, just a little bit. You are not discouraged. You tilt your head in mock innocence and prepare to leave his office. But this time…it seems different. He did not say those admonishing and decent words to you. The sunlight slanted onto the colored glass, and the halo behind it almost made his whole person soft and decent.
"You know, I never like to use strong tactics. Now I know where the problem lies." There was even a faint smile on Sunday's face. "You need to show some proper respect and deference, and you're just one family away from that."
"What are you talking about again?" You frowned, but you couldn't move when you wanted to say the next word. Panic grips your heart. A burst of cheerful and moving tones enter your mind, like a sequenced program. "Come to me." This sentence seems to be singing. You don't know if it's an auditory hallucination or what.
Your body obeyed uncontrollably, and slowly walked to him and knelt down. Get away from him!! Get down on your knees. You met his gaze pitifully and weakly, putting on an expression you didn't normally have. "I'm sorry," you heard yourself apologize. "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Sunday. I've been so mean to you."
What are you doing?
"I will serve you with love... my husband." Your hands rested obediently on his knees, like a puppy. You already want to slap yourself. What nonsense are you talking about? "I realize that I am too bossy all the time. Please give me a chance to make it up to you..."
You carefully unzipped his pants and stroked and rubbed his warm cock with your hands. That- what is that- so awful- why is it so hard and long, the head of the cock is standing in front of your face, standing menacingly... A thin mist surrounds your tears. Then you lowered your head submissively and tried your best to take it all in, but it was already pressed against your throat before it was even halfway through. A feeling of nausea, but you still try to do the best you can for your husband.
(The muffled gurgling sounds, the saliva and tears.)
After your wet mouth felt sore, you finally had him gently pull your hair. You wanted to scream, curse him. This thought is like roaring in the wind, but you say. "Isn't this good enough? Please…" Before you could finish, those white thick creams covered your face. "Ah…"
"No. You're doing great. " Sunday caressed your face dotingly, even though your face was now shrouded in humiliation. "We're going to have two beautiful babies. I look forward to seeing you do this every day."
#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#sunday x reader#yandere honkai star rail#honkai star rail x you#yandere hsr#yandere hsr x reader#honkai x reader
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