#the only reason I couldn't do it more often was because it was hard to fit it in with my schedule and how far I had to drive

[since64bce]

Hell Within Hell

Alastor-Radio Demon- x Sinner reader

Synopsis: Alastor has inhibited hell for years. He knows it's ins' and outs'. But when it comes to him, his coppery heart, and an unexpected new-found perspective on his assistant, a new hell is created for him as he tries to wrestle with the shiny new concept of love. Just a few short pieces of writing and some head cannons'. Nothin' fancy.

Word count: Don't know. Warnings: Alastor.

By gosh what a tragedy. What a wonderful, terrible tragedy. What a questionable, concerning tragedy. How lovely it is. How problematic. Did Shakespeare end up in hell for all the souls he stole in the theatre? I pray for him if that was ever the case. And not because his soul wandered into eternal damnation. Oh no, there's a fate much worse than that, and his name is Alastor.

When the heart becomes stale it also becomes a waste of space, a space that could be used for more lung capacity instead. Because of this reason, Alastor often had thoughts of compulsively ripping it right out, especially, strangely, and more so now that it was finally of use. If Shakespeare really was in hell, Alastor wanted to kill him. If he was a bug, he'd place the man beneath Nifty's blade. And if he was in Heaven- which would be unwarranted given all the hearts he's crushed- Alastor would find a way to drag him down into Hell to watch his tragic little heart suffer for eternity. Because it's his texts in which Alastor has stumbled upon. And it's from his texts in which Alastor has learnt about love and all it has to offer.

Alastor is a refrained lover, if you could call the demon a lover at all. At best he's okay at love, if thats what you wanted to call whatever the thing Alastor thinks "love" is.

Being an overlord, you'd think he was capable of anything.

Uhh lower your expectations sis.

Problem No.1 with Alastor (which was really hard to find) is that he's not really the lovey dovey type. Does he get passionate about certain things? Of course darling. But when was the last time it was about a lowly sinner like yourself? (Hear the crickets babe? Yea pretty much that).

However I feel like this is true only for a few years after he's met you.

I'd say it's a "You-fell-first-(but then lowkey realised it ain't never happening type thing so you stopped)-he-fell-harder-(and got confused so didn't pursue it for like six fuxking months)

Being an overlord you'd think he was capable of anything but in all honestly love confuses this sweet🍬, sweet🍭, neurotic👹 boy.

His heart is in tatters and moth eaten like some dusty old drape. Nobody's ever come into his life that mattered to him much before.

And when I say "mattered" it doesn't come under the "slightly useful to him but couldn't care less" umbrella either.

Like it's a genuine feeling of not wishing for somebody to just fucking up and leave his demonic little world.

It's as if you're just so convenient for him to be able to slot you into his crazy, batshit puzzle of a life. And you fit so perfectly and meticulously, and you make it look rather complete, that he just doesn't really feel he needs you gone.🙂🙃

And thats his very lopsided version of love that he hasn't created a full understanding around yet. But hopefully will... one day.💕

Why would someone like him like someone like you!?? 🤯😧

Oh please bitch Alastor in Alastor's world is a special, clever little princess, nobody can top him.

When he first laid eyes on you, you were just another darling sack of shit staying at the Hazbin sorry not sorry. (Boo me idc this is how your love story goes 😤)

You weren't special at all. In fact, to him you were just a normal bad sinner doing the normal bad sinner things. There was nothing alluring about you, there was not a single aura or attractive quirk or special little something on the inside nor the outside that made him love you. You were like a crusty little stray dog, period. Not even a cute one.

In fact not even your death story was cool you got like hit by a bus or something idfc but it was nothin striking babes

You weren't even that bad of a sinner tbh. You were just a lying cheating fu k that got hit by a bus before you could find Jesus and repent

Anyways then you have Radio Demon, Overlord, Mr.Alastor who can do funny shit with his shadows oh dear lord save me

So as I said before, you, my dear, had a little crush for him first. Or, more realistically, you caught the love bug. Because don't we all know how little Nifty loves her bugs (dead).

Yes, you hiccupped on your blushy, fluffy feelings because trying to find genuine love and care within Ali's cold little heart at the time would've been damn near impossible. Like being stuck in a maze within a maze within a stone wall that had no exit.

So, yes dear, a hard pill to swallow ik but you got there in the end .

Over the years following, you and Alastor became a nice little duo. Like an elegant doberman and it's small rat-dog companion (guess which ones which).

Everybody in the Hazbin hotel has their own little niche, whether it be porn-starring or bar tending.

Yours was running errands for Alastor.

In his eyes you were comparable to an assistant even though the title was never officially yours. And he didn't want it to be yours because the role of facilities manager was a one person job.

Besides you did other things than just hotel errands.

You were more like an assistant Alastor. And that suited the both of you just fine. To Alastor you were remarkably useful, to you Alastor was an interesting boss and a form of strange company you somehow enjoyed. His presence, albeit staticky, was charming. He was a hard one to shake off, that man.

And then he began noticing you. And not just in the general way. I mean thats how it all starts off doesn't it?

It starts with a moment.

His boring "normie" of a companion... charmed him in some way. He didn't know how.

It was after one of his avid radio broadcasts when he switched off the set and just sat there in the silent darkness illuminated by the controls. Not even his voice filled the air, which was a strange noise to behold. Oddly peaceful, huh.

And then it got him thinking about your voice and how it could come and disrupt his blissful, peaceful silence at any moment. Pestering him with something new, as the very un-special sound of it filled the room.

You did like to disrupt things.

You've had your fair share of moments you've disrupted.

With your normal voice.

Filling the room.

It got his cogs spinning as he thought about you so normal and dull and boring. But it seemed that he really did know quite a lot about you.

You were never a drug addict in the middle world, never any kind of addict, never any kind of slave to anything or anybody but the lies you told others. Admirable achievement in this crowd down here.

But still, what a boring Mary Sue.

Typical Mary Sue behaviour that you should also try and recover from your compulsive lying, and actually bother to make use of the facilities the Hazbin Hotel had to offer.

Charming. But petty.

Just today he had asked you about an errand you'd run, only to find out that you had lied about running it.

You were supposed to have given some bird food to the cuckoo in the cuckoo clock. It was a fools errand he had given you to make you go away for a second. But you had told him you had actually done it.

Until you admitted you lied.

Inside the broadcast tower, Alastor let out a quiet laugh. He didn't know why it was quiet, he was the only person in the tower, and even if he were with other people its not like he'd care.

But what was so funny?

He thought back to the conversation: "I don't know what you're talking about," you had told him. "I never fed the stupid clock." And then he said, "Oh dear, well thats quite contrary to what I was told before." And you said, "damnit" under your breath and walked away, annoyed at yourself for having broken your sobriety, going to go repent to Charlie for the fifth time that day.

Again, Al found himself smiling ever wider and trying to keep his steady flow of chuckles beneath his fingers. Soon he was hunched over, finding other stories about you drifting to his head.

Unbeknownst to him, the layer of ice on his heart was slowly beginning to melt in the section that he reserved for you.

He realised you were such a funny fickle little thing, he realised he was quite fond of you as his assistant. It made no sense. And after the laughter was over something else took over.

A sense of something between fiery anger and grief contaminated his pores. He realised he had let you into his heart. He tried to quickly freeze it over again, however, it was too late, it seemed you had already brushed its surface.

The next day when you two were busying yourselves with errands, you came across each other in a hallway.

There was something off about his face on this particular day. Because when you looked at his face which was watching over your face, you never found his signature smile. For once you saw his lips relaxed. For once you saw his elusive eyes really looking at you like nobodies ever looked at you before.

And then he walked right past like nothing happened. However something had happened. Something incredibly unexpected and wrong. Radio Demon, Overlord, Mr. Alastor had found someone who mattered.

Boring, normie, lacklustre, lukewarm, little. Old. You.

It's a quiet day at the Hazbin Hotel. But it's always a quiet day isn't it? Hell is rock bottom, and once you hit rock bottom, well, what's the point in not wandering around for a bit?

You were only here because Charlie picked you up before the Sinners mentality could reach you.

At the same time, you were also only here because of Alastor.

Alastor, the lean, lanky overlord which you couldn't help but like somewhat. Cold and calculating despite the warm colours he wore. charming and pleasant despite his scary appeal. He was one reason why you enjoyed your stay at the Hazbin Hotel.

But he was also one reason why you hated it.

Lately anyway.

You've tried to bring it up with him but he simply won't listen. He doesn't even laugh anymore he just grimaces. It's been two whole months since he last smiled at you and you feel as though your beginning to get withdrawals- as sappy as that sounds. But it's true. As funny as it is to say, hell seems less pleasant, and even the Hazbin, despite Miss Morningstar's lovely presence, is falling short of joy and dunking deeper into the gloomy reality that is damnation.

They say that reality is just your perception. However, why has your perception been so fragmented by just a absence of a single smile?

Oh but you knew didn't you? You still loved him.

You thought you were past it but you weren't. You're such a brilliant liar that you can even trick yourself into believing things that aren't true. How remarkable. How depressing.

Ugh.

He's probably finally gotten bored of you. In fact, you've probably bored him into some kind of chronic depression that triggers every time he see's your boring, depressing face. Double ugh. And now you can't stand to look in the mirror. Sometimes you lay awake at night wondering what you've done to him and if it's you that's broken his perfect smile or something else. But everything he does points at you, and with this ridiculous jacket of blame on your shoulders you don't know how to look in his eyes anymore without feeling humiliated.

Oh and now he's behind you, watching you sit beneath the stupid cuckoo clock with a pile of birdseed in your palm. Humiliating? No something worse than that. You must look ridiculous. Desperate. Ridiculously desperate.

'Well, I feel it's too late now don't you? That ridiculous lie is still a lie, also the bird isn't real if you didn't get the memo,' taunted the inevitably superficial voice of the radio host. You could feel him behind you but you couldn't see him. The mans presence was very strong, a quirk, perhaps, that came with being an overlord. Although at times you could hardly tell when he'd enter a room at all. 'Now, why are you sitting, staring at the wall like a dummy? Did dear Charlie put you in time out for being a liar?'

'Fuck you, Alastor,' you huffed, 'you know I'm working on it.'

'Not making much progress I see.'

You could hear his non-smile in his voice. You didn't even turn around, you didn't have to, plus, you didn't want to.

'After you're finished working out your lying problem, perhaps you should focus on your swearing problem,' he said. You could hear the ruffling of Al's suit as he presumably crouched down, and then the cold lick of his breath as he got close to your ear. 'It's not so classy, my dear, for someone like you to have such a foul mouth.'

'Fuck- I know- just fuck off!'

You heard Alastor tut behind you, sighing disapprovingly.

You turned and looked him in the eyes. They looked bemused, however, his mouth told you a different story. He looked slightly chilling without that smile of his. Perhaps that was another reason for your sleeping troubles lately. 'Go ahead and do it you creep, kill me, I know ya wanna,' you declared, he cocked his head to the side, terrifyingly interested in your proposition. You had to resist the urge to swallow. 'Also now I've seen you without a smile I think I've seen it all, kill me I'm ready.'

You were half joking, but you still watched Alastor out of the corner of your eye, a habit you had developed.

'No.'

'That's not like you, Alastor.'

'What can I say? I am a man of many surprises. And you're far too valuable to me to kill you, assistant.' He added the last part in slowly, watching you like a hawk.

And then you saw it.

The faintest glimmer of tooth.

The littlest crease beside his lip.

And did he just call you valuable? A compliment from Alastor? Kill me now, you thought, it wasn't gonna get much better than this. And then Alastor's distinct vocals piped up again, 'ha ha! You look dumbfounded, sweetheart. Is there something I can help you with?'

His smile disappeared. And so did that feeling of hope in your stomach, leaving you empty again, and so you said, 'what do you even want Alastor? why'd you come find me? You're just toying with me now.'

'I'm afraid I toy with everyone, assistant.'

You felt him watching you as you crossed the room and put the birdseed in the bin, you felt him watching you as you dusted off your hands and made your way to the door.

'Smile,' you ordered. One final attempt.

Once again he cocked his head, raising his eyebrows, no expression in the mouth and whatever expression was in the eyes seemed to be told in another language. 'And what do I get if I do that for you?'

'My smile.'

-

Alastor has been a mess lately.

A clean mess no doubt. But he's been walking around half naked for months, alas, he can't bring himself to smile, which was more like a piece for clothing for him now more than anything. It got to the point where the Radio Demon thought that it had finally lost it's sincerity and emotion. But clearly not, as it's absence has been due to nothing but sincerity and emotion, two things which Alastor had never really exercised. Two things which were out of his hands.

And it's been ever since he found you wandering the hellish plains of his mind.

Yes, he was the skeleton in the closet, the monster beneath the bed, the not-your-typical-spooky-guy. But maybe he's finally found a weakness, and that thought slapped his smile right off his face.

And his assistant was all to blame.

You were all to blame.

He found his hands shaking as he looked at you, he carefully analysed that angry look about you as you stood rigidly at the door. There was nothing threatening about you, your face wasn't scary like his was, however he found himself mildly irritated by your defiances' today, mildly saddened at your obvious depression, and mildly livid that he couldn't get you off his mind.

So no, he wasn't threatened, you just mildly made him want to pull his hair out.

'Smile.'

'And what do I get if I do that for you?'

'My smile.'

Your smile? And what was that supposed to mean? Was he supposed to rip your mouth off and take your smile for his own? He looked at you, he looked at your lips, imagined touching them, imagining slicing them off you as your blood spilled and you screamed. And then he found himself putting the thought down, finding that he didn't really want that thought. How strange. Your smile wouldn't suit his face anyway, it looks much sweeter on you.

'If you smile at me I'll smile at you back,' you clarified, still with that rather hostile look in your eyes. You didn't really look in the smiling mood darling.

But it gave Alastor pause for thought.

Oh. So that's what you meant. Interesting. An equal exchange.

Al brought the memory of your smile up in his mind. It was pleasant enough. Charming enough... Oh who was he kidding? Sometimes he wished you could tell him the lies he told himself so he'd believe them better.

Your smile. It was sweet and dainty and lovely, and there was not a night that had passed in which he hadn't thought about it in some fleeting way.

Squeezing, hurting, reaching. He wanted to rip his heart out right then and there as he looked at you glaring at him from the doorframe.

And that's when he walked right up to you without warning. You barely had time to back away. And he took in your wonderful face with all of your wonderful features, from the lovely curve of your nose, to the shape of your very skull, to the fat of your cheeks to the pigment of your skin (which had turned wonderfully rosy beneath his fingers).

And then he took in your smile.

And he realised he was smiling too.

And he was so angry with himself, and irritated at you for making him feel this way. And so he leaned in and carefully placed his lips onto the corner of your mouth. Wanting to do it again and again and again but worried that he could smudge away the perfection that was you.

In the end he just grinned at you.

...

And then walked away like nothing happened.

...

A/N- Ik the tiny one shot at the end is shit but it's like 1 am and I have school tomorrow, I've watched like 4 episodes and I don't even know who tf Lucifer is yet so don't even come at me bitchens 🖕🥷

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #x reader #vivienne medrano #radio demon x you #radio demon x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor oneshot #alastor headcanons #radio demon

[thelittlespanielthatcould]

baby was getting tired towards the end of agility class so he sat down while doing his paws trick

#we're doing foundations agility again because the first foundations class we did was like 3 years ago and I forgot everything #well #not everything #a lot of the stuff we're learning he does have some background in #but my mechanics need a lot of work and his focus needs some fine tuning #its so much fun though #the only reason I couldn't do it more often was because it was hard to fit it in with my schedule and how far I had to drive #but now I moved somewhere intentionally close to an agility facility and we could walk there if we wanted to #which I will want to if the next round falls on my day off #and if I could build up his stamina... lol #i think both our muscles atrophied never leaving the house because it was so goddamn hot all the time when we lived in fl #we're catching up now though! #slowly but surely #agility #classes #kovus face #ckcs #kovu #dog sports

[autismserenity]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

#covid isn't over #covid 19 #disability rights #disability advocacy #wear a mask #covid conscious #covid cautious #mask up #wall of words #public health #health care

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Family Of Four

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: none

Being a young mother of two small children, one of whom is 3 months and the other 4 years old, is something no one could have prepared you for. You knew from the beginning that it wasn't going to be easy since Lando couldn't always be there to help you with the two of them, but sometimes you thought you were gonna lose your mind.

Phoebe was 4 years old, the spitting image of her dad. She was a little lady with big brown curls and sassy attitude who always stole everyone's hearts with her personality. On the other hand, Kian was only 3 months old, usually a very calm little baby boy who was a perfect mix of both you and Lando.

This was one of those days when you wanted to jump out of your own skin. One of those days when you didn't know what to do first, who to take first, who to comfort first. Both kids were screaming crying, Phoebe because she was hungry, even though she refused to eat 20 minutes before when you asked her, and Kian because he had stomach cramps that were very painful.

While Phoebe was throwing a tantrum and rolling on the floor screaming, Kian was crying so hard that you almost cried too because you didn't know how to help him anymore. You were going crazy while waiting for Lando to come back from work duties.

Days like this didn't happen often, but when they did, you felt like you were failing as a mother. Deep down you knew it wasn't true, but you just couldn't understand how a pregnant Nara Smith manages to literally produce cereal for her children's breakfast, yet here you are, not even able to calm your two children by yourself.

"It's okay, it's okay baby boy, please stop crying" You despaired, talking softly, rubbing Kian's back and walking around the living room with him. "Phoebe, get up from the floor right now!"

"I'm hungry!"

"Can you just wait 5 more minutes until your brother stops crying? Can you please do that for me?"

"No, I want daddy!" She yelled which startled Kian and made him cry even more.

"Oh my God.." You were on the verge of a breakdown. "Shh, baby, it's okay..shh"

Thankfully, minutes after she screamed for her dad, Lando walked through the front door.

"Guys, what is going on here?" He asked taking off his jacket looking at the chaotic scene in front of him.

"Please, do something" Your voice trembled, the tears already formed in your eyes threatening to spill out.

"Baby, what's going on? Are you okay?" He approached you putting one hand on your cheek and the other on Kian's back.

"No" You shook your head. "I'm going to the bedroom to try to calm him down. Phoebe's hungry because she didn't wanna eat 20 minutes ago when I begged her to. Now she's screaming for no reason."

"I'll deal with her, don't worry, okay?" He said kissing your cheek before you left with Kian in your arms.

"Pheebs, get up, c'mon" Lando said gently pulling her up by her arm.

"Daddy" She cried with no tears.

"What's wrong? Why are you crying?" He asked lifting her up in his arms and brushing her hair from her sweat-sticky face.

"I'm hungry"

"Okay, but have you ever been hungry for more than 10 minutes before you got to eat?" He asked walking to the kitchen with her and sitting her down on the kitchen island. "Have you?"

"No.." She said quietly sniffling and looking down at her hands.

"Baby, look at me" Lando gently lifts her chin up with his finger "You're a big sister now, and big sisters don't act this way. If your brother is crying because he's in pain, you need to be patient. No one's gonna forget about you, but you need to help mommy, and you screaming while she's trying to calm him down is not helpful at all."

Phoebe stayed silent looking at Lando with sad puppy eyes before asking "Do you l-love baby brother more than me?"

Pheebs was daddy's girl from day one. She was his first one. His everything and more. She had him completely wrapped around her finger and he knew it, but he loved it.

Since he was away a lot, he couldn't spend as much time as he wanted with his kids so he was always very lenient with them. Especially with Pheebs because she was older. She always got what she wanted and Lando was always very happy to fulfill her every wish.

He could never say no to her. How could he say no when every time when Lando goes on a race, she calls him on a video call to say "I miss you daddy, you're going to win tomorrow because you're the best" It makes his heart melt every time.

"Baby, mommy and I love you and your brother equally. There's no way we love one more than the other, okay?" He said cupping her cheeks. "But you're always gonna be daddy's little girl, yeah? My tiny princess" He starts tickling her showering kisses all over her face making her giggle.

"Will my princess eat now so we can go get ready for bed?" He asked to which she quickly agreed nodding her head.

After dinner, Lando helped her brush her teeth, put on her pyjamas and put her to bed.

"I love you, daddy." She stretched out her arms for one more hug before Lando got up and left her room.

"I love you too, darling. Good night."

Once he was done with Phoebe, he went to see where you and Kian were.

"Y/n?" He said quietly entering your bedroom with dimmed lights. You were lying on the bed next to Kian who was finally asleep. "Are you sleeping?"

"No" You answered quietly as he sat down next the two of you.

"Baby, what's wrong?" He asked noticing that your eyes were red from crying. "Come here" Opening his arms, he pulls you to himself.

"I'm so tired, Lan" You sob quietly into his chest. It was all just too much for you. You didn't have any time for yourself. You were with two little kids 24/7 and you just felt like you were losing yourself. "I feel like I'm losing my mind. He's still having cramps and it hurts me to see him in pain. And I feel like I'm neglecting Phoebe like I'm not giving her enough attention since he came and-"

"Y/n, baby, stop. I don't wanna hear you being hard on yourself. They're kids, they have their good and bad days. It doesn't mean we're failing as parents if they're having a bad day. You're the best, most loving and caring mom ever, but you need a break. Let me please find someone to help you out with them when I'm not home."

"No, I can take care of my own kids when you're not home" You were being stubborn. You were refusing to get a nanny even though you knew you needed it when Lando was away because both your and Lando's parents were not living in Monaco so they couldn't be there when you needed them.

"I know you can, but I need you to be okay above everything else." He says leaving a kiss on your head that was still resting on his chest.

"I know, I'm sorry, it's been such a hard day and I missed you so much"

"Shh, I've got you, baby."

Later that night, when both kids were fast asleep, Lando and you finally had some time for yourselves. Both of you were in the living room on the couch in front of the TV. You were half asleep with your head in Lando's lap as he played with your hair and watched some TV show.

He smiled softly when he noticed you fell asleep. He didn't want to disturb you, but he wanted to cuddle you so he pulled you up closer to him. You laid your head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead whispering how much he loves you and how much he's proud of you.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #f1 smut #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 blurb #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x you

[incognit0slut]

Lose Control

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Spencer finds himself locked in a room with his rival. Based on:

warning: 18+ explicit content including oral (both), hair-pulling, chocking, and unprotected, semi-public, hate sex

words: 6.8k (I'm a smut-with-a-plot kind of person)

a/n: this is not enemies to lovers. This is, quite frankly, enemies to (fuckable) enemies. Also, we hit 1.2k followers!! Tysm!! I legit made this blog 2 months ago that’s crazyyy😳

MASTERLIST

“…mind games until you lose control…”

CHANGE WAS INEVITABLE WHEN IT CAME TO HIS WORK. Spencer encountered many great people walking through the door of the bureau throughout the years he worked as a profiler. Most of them he genuinely liked, and most of them he considered more than mere colleagues. But from all the people he had to work with, there was one person he really couldn't stand.

"Move out of the way, Reid, you're blocking the way."

He turned to see the last person he wanted to indulge in standing close to him, a hand on her hip and a frown on her face. "There is literally enough space for you to pass through."

"And jeopardize myself by touching you?" She wrinkled her nose. "I think I'll pass."

His gaze, usually warm and welcoming, hardened into a steely resolve. It pierced through her like an icy dagger, radiating an unmistakable contempt. He then backed away, walking further into the room that held rows of shelving units lining up the space. "What are you even doing here?"

"Well, ever since we found the victim's body surrounded by those cryptic signs, it reminded me of the cult massacre which happened in—"

"St. Joseph, 1947," he finished.

"Yeah, although this isn't mass murder, I thought the nature of the death was very similar to that old case." He could practically hear the smugness in her voice as she continued, "I also knew you'd be here and wanted to beat you to it."

His gaze settled on her standing by the door. "I don't think that's going according to plan considering I was here before you arrived."

"Please, you just got here. I bet I can find the files before you do."

His brows furrowed. How could he not feel some kind of disdain when she was acting the way she was? One might say he was acting too immature for his age, for a man who was close to pushing forty he did consider himself too old for petty fights. But it was hard to keep his composure when she was often the one taunting him, ridiculing him with that haughty mouth of hers.

It was better to ignore her presence completely, so he did just that, focusing his attention on the files in front of him as she stepped into the room.

She frowned, feeling her throat clenching before coughing out loud as dust particles greeted her entrance. She was busy trying to swat the specks of dust away from her face when something solid suddenly nudged her feet. Her eyes swept towards the floor.

"Why is this massive book laying here?" She picked up the thick paperback and read its title. "The Anatomy of Motive?"

Spencer's head snapped in an alert. "Wait! Don't—"

But it was too late. The old wooden door hanging loosely on its rusted hinges creaked without any support to keep it ajar, and with a resounding thud, it closed, the sound echoing through the stagnant air. "I put that there for a reason," he grumbled. "And now we're stuck here."

She leaned forward and wrapped her hand around the handle, trying to yank the door open. The panic on her face was evident when it didn't budge. "Shit."

"You can only open it from the other side."

She turned towards him. "Do you have your phone with you?"

"No."

She groaned because her own device was also securely tucked in her bag. Not wanting to be locked in a room with the last person she wanted to be with, she started pounding on the door frantically. "Help! Penelope! Luke!" Bang. Bang. "Anyone!"

"Nobody's going to hear you."

She tuned him out.

"Emily! JJ!" She pressed herself against the door, drawing her mouth close towards the tiny gap between the wooden panel and the wall. "Help! We're locked in!" She suddenly caught his movement from the corner of her eyes and turned to him, noticing the way he was already studying a file.

"What are you doing?"

He slipped back the document into the cabinet and went through the other folders. "Might as well work until they realize we're gone."

She straightened herself and glanced at the watch around her wrist. "But it's late. What if everyone's gone home and we're stuck here for the night?" A thought struck her and she looked up in horror. "Or for days?"

"Then you have yourself to blame."

She glared at him. "You're not helping."

Spencer looked up to see her jaw clenching, accentuating the sharp angles of her face. Her normally composed features, so delicately balanced, now seemed to unravel in a heat of fury. It was the only expression she held every time she had to deal with him.

He glanced away and focused back on his task. "Don't worry, we have a team of competent profilers. If they can find dangerous criminals throughout the country, they can also find their two missing agents."

She considered his words and acknowledged the truth behind them, so she reluctantly moved to the other side of the room, going through the shelves opposite of him. The space went completely still as they both went through the stack of folders shelved between the old cabinets. It wasn't until curiosity got the better of him that he finally looked up, his eyes falling onto her form.

Her back was facing him, giving him a view of her tousled hair falling down over her shoulders. His eyes involuntarily trailed the contours of her body, betraying a mixture of intrigue and curiosity. His gaze lingered upon the gentle curve of her shoulder, the graceful line of her spine, and the sway of her hips as she moved onto the next shelf, her steps echoing through the silence and it was then he realized she was wearing heels.

Again.

This wasn't the first time she decided to wear shoes that looked very uncomfortable to wear. Who even wore heels in this line of work? Being an FBI agent meant you had to be quick on your feet because anything could happen unexpectedly. He once voiced out his opinion on this matter, which she only answered with, "My choice of clothing won't reduce the capability of my brain, Reid. You and I are still doctors even if I wear a bathing suit to work."

"It's not about your choice of clothing, it's about being practical."

"That's why I keep a pair of sneakers in my drawers,” she had haughtily replied, then narrowed her eyes at him. "And don't comment on my shoes when I've held myself from judging on your ugly cardigans."

His cardigans were not ugly.

He shook the memory away as eyes roamed over her again, noticing her very exposed legs. She was also wearing a skirt today, something she often did and something he never dared to have an opinion on, knowing she would probably bite his head off if he did.

"Stop staring at me."

Spencer cleared his throat at being caught. "I wasn't."

"I could practically feel your eyes on me." She looked over her shoulder. "I have great spidey senses."

There was a sudden pause. "Spidey senses?"

"Yeah, like Spiderman." When he didn't respond, she turned around and faced him. "Please tell me you know who Spiderman is?"

When he returned her gaze with a frown, she couldn't help but laugh, turning her back towards him again. "You know this is why people like me better than you. We both may be smart, but you got to admit, my knowledge doesn't simply stop on academics."

He should've been offended by her words, he should've countered back a vile reply, but her voice became white noise to him as he watched her body leaning down, picking up a document that slipped from her grasp. His eyes caught the way the tight skirt clung to her form like a second skin. The fabric, stretched taut against her curves, highlighted the alluring lines of her figure. The skirt's snug fit caressed her thighs, tracing their slender form and hinting at the softness beneath.

This wasn't the first time he noticed her beauty in this type of way, beneath all that glare she often carried whenever he was around her, he knew she was an attractive woman. It was her personality that often stopped him from marveling this insight. But being in this closed, tight space, Spencer was forced to study her, and with the way his body was reacting, he knew his lingering stare was more than simple admiration.

He could feel his blood pulsing down south, tightening underneath the confinement of his pants.

As she straightened herself, she felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. She turned her head and noticed his eyes training on her body.

"You're still staring." She then caught a glimpse of something unguarded in his gaze, something that was definitely far from hatred. Her mind whirled with questions, trying to decipher the meaning behind it. "Stop looking at me like that."

A hint of a smile played on his lips. "Like what?"

"Like you either want to strangle me or—"

"Or?" He prompted.

Like you want to eat me alive.

It was the only way she could describe it. She was aware of how his eyes usually pierced her, how every movement she made or word she uttered could trigger this immense disdain radiating from him. But now the weight of his gaze bore down upon her, casting a palpable heat that danced across her skin. Something had changed, and she felt it in the intensity of his eyes, so different from the usual hostility she had come to expect.

They held a predatory gleam as if he could pounce on her at any moment.

“If I hadn't known you better," she carefully spoke, watching as he took a step towards her, and she took one back, bumping into the wall. "I'd say you're trying to flirt with me with those eyes."

"Me? Flirt with you?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Don't flatter yourself."

She scoffed, squaring her shoulders as he closed the distance between them. "You're right. What was I thinking? You can't even flirt to live."

"You don't even know how I flirt."

"Reid, I've seen you flirt," she said between fits of laughter. "Remember you tried getting that cop's number? You were stuttering and suddenly giving her facts about oil paintings. Paintings."

"She had an interest in fine art," he stated. "And if you must know, after giving those informative facts, I told that no amount of art could ever compare to her beauty as a compliment.”

She snorted, shaking her head in disbelief. "And that actually worked? She gave you her number?"

"No." Then a smirk curled on his lips. "But she did come home with me."

She frowned. That was new information. She never really thought about what went on in his love life, but hearing him implying his active sex life had her feeling strange. "She did?"

He took another step forward. "If I hadn't known you better," he carefully spoke, mimicking her words before. "I'd say you're jealous."

She tilted her head up and scowled at him. "Even if you were the last person on this planet I wouldn't consider breathing in the same air with you."

She waited for his response, but he didn't even seem to be bothered by her words. And as they stood there, holding each other's gaze, she became acutely aware of everything; their close proximity, the warmth radiating from his body, and the rise and fall of his chest. His unfamiliar scent lingered in the air, a distinct combination of earthy musk and a hint of something indefinable. She had never allowed herself to notice it before, but now it was impossible to ignore.

Her eyes then traced the lines on his face, sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and finally settled on his eyes. At first, she thought her eyes was deceiving her, but she knew exactly what held behind his gaze. It was the same expression she saw in all her past lovers. It wouldn’t have surprised her to see the same intensity on other men, but to see it on him? The guy who had always hated her guts the moment she corrected his statistic rants the first time they met?

Spencer fucking Reid?

It was too much for her to handle. She was used to his piercing gaze, his evident disdain. Not this. It became almost overwhelming that she decided to step away.

Just as she turned to retreat from the intensity of his gaze, her body froze as she felt warm fingers gripping her wrist. The contact sent a jolt through her body and her eyes snapped back at him. "What the hell are you doing?"

Ah, there it was, that hatred she was looking for blazing in his eyes again. "You see, I don't like you."

"Good." She held her chin up. "The feeling's mutual."

"You think you're better than everybody else, you think you're better than me."

She was about to retort another response when he suddenly yanked her, a gasp leaving her mouth. "But somehow I can’t help myself from wanting to taste you.”

Then it happened so fast. One moment she was trying to register what was happening, the next thing she knew his lips were on hers, moving frantically in desperate hunger. She couldn't believe he was actually kissing her. It also burned her up inside to find he was good at it. She wanted him to be all teeth and awkward so she could sneer at him and push him away, but he was holding her face in his hands like they hadn't spent months sniping at each other.

A turmoil of thoughts swarmed her mind—What are you doing? Why are you kissing him back? What the hell is wrong with you?—while she gripped onto his arm as a pleased sigh slipped through her mouth before she could catch it.

He slowly pulled away from her, eyes glittering in mischief. "Would you look at that?" he muttered, gripping her jaw and tilting her face like he was appraising her. "All bark and no bite."

She shoved his hands away from her face, ignoring how nice it had felt, wide and warm and firm. "Don't test me."

"Yeah?" His hand settled on her hip, pulling her against him deliberately slow, giving her every opportunity to knock his hand away, to sidestep him, to tell him to stop, but she didn't. He took it as a sign to run his hand behind her. "I think you're bluffing."

Her heart quickened when she felt him gently squeezing her ass. "A-About what?"

"All this bravado of yours," he taunted, his hands now trailing down to her sides. "I bet there's something sweet underneath all this bitterness."

"You don't know me," she hissed breathlessly. It was difficult to keep snapping back at him when his other hand ran up her leg, pushing her skirt up as he went, his grip encompassing the entire width of her thigh.

"Maybe not. But I'm always up for a challenge." His calloused hand brushed at the lacy edge of her underwear and she sucked in a shaky breath. "Let's see how long you can keep up with this attitude."

She opened her mouth to say something snippy, but he ducked down and kissed the words out of her mouth with a low groan. Her brain suddenly froze when his finger curled under the outline of her underwear and tugged it to the side, trailing his slender finger through her bare slit.

A smirk curled at the corner of his lips as pulled away, trailing his mouth along her jawline. His finger brushed along her slickness and it took a lot of self-control for her not to moan. "How are you already so wet?"

Although a small gasp emitted from her as she felt him sliding a finger, and when his thumb pressed against her clit, she closed her eyes, tossing her head to the side at the feeling of him filling her up.

"You're awfully quiet," he murmured against her neck, sucking a bruise against her soft skin as he began to pump his finger. "Who would've thought I had to touch you to keep your mouth shut."

She bit her bottom lip, fighting against the pleasure that surged through her, desperately trying to suppress the enjoyment coursing through her veins. "I hate you."

"No, you don't." His tone was vexingly calm, and all it did was rile her up more. She wished he'd match her frustration because his composure was annoying. Then to make matters worse, he let out an amused laugh. He fucking laughed. "Look at you trying to hold yourself back."

"I'm not—fuck." She gasped as she felt his finger curling inside her.

"Keep telling yourself that." He added another finger and she slumped against the wall, pressing back hard to keep herself upright as he pumped his wrist. "It's okay to admit you're enjoying this."

"I-I'm not," she huffed indignantly.

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"

Her breath mingled with the sound of her arousal echoing in the narrowed space as he drove his fingers into her faster. "Shut up, Reid." She then grabbed onto his arm as the pleasure intensified, nails digging into his skin. "You think you're so smart, so full of yourself—"

"You really like picking up a fight, don't you? That's why you always have an attitude with me." His lips brushed her ear. "It gets you worked up. It gets you wet."

She quickly shook her head. "I just don't like you."

"Hmm." He leaned back and watched the way she tensed beneath his touch, her muscles coiling with delicate restraint. It was as if she fought against the pleasure that threatened to consume her, seeking to maintain control even as her body betrayed her desires. "I wonder if you'll like it as much if I put my head between your thighs."

The thought of having his face buried right where her arousal burned drove her over the edge. Her body betrayed her and she knew he could feel it too. "Oh wow, you're clenching around my fingers," he hummed in satisfaction. "Is that what you want? You want me to eat you out?"

"No," she mumbled but he found her hips bucking against his palm.

"Your body is saying otherwise." He withdrew his fingers but kept rubbing tight circles against her clit. Her blood was hammering under her skin and her legs shook as she tried to roll her hips up against his hand again. "Say you want me between your thighs."

She gritted her teeth, her muscles tightening in a valiant effort to hold back the mounting pleasure that begged to be unleashed. "I'm not saying that."

"Are you sure?" His other hand traveled along the back of her head before fisting her hair in his hand, exposing the column of her throat to him. "Don't you want to come all over my face?"

"Reid..." she mumbled hopelessly, her head spinning as his hot breath brushed against her skin. The thought of admitting that infuriated her because him actually getting her off was something she'd never live down. This was Spencer Reid, the man who had always infuriated her with his know-it-all statistics as if she hadn't already known half of the things he said.

But damn it, she really wanted him between her thighs.

"Say it," he repeated, moving his hand away entirely, and she grabbed his wrist desperately, pulling his fingers back to where she wanted them. "Say I want your mouth on me, Spencer, and I'll happily oblige."

"Reid—"

"Spencer," he corrected. "Say it."

Her body quivered, a taut wire stretched to its limit, yearning to snap under the weight of the pleasure that coursed through her. And then his finger suddenly stopped its movement and she knew he wasn't going to touch her again until she gave in. If that's how he wanted it, fine. She was going to consider this as one of their silly mind games, their usual banter whenever they tried to outwit one another. She could figure out a way to get back at him later. She could swallow her pride for now.

"I want your mouth on me," she reluctantly caved in.

"Did you forget my name?"

Unbelievable.

"I fucking hate you," she sneered. Then she pushed him away from the crook of her neck and leveled her gaze on him. "Just put your fucking mouth on me, Spencer."

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "You have a very foul mouth."

But true to his words, he eventually dropped to his knees, his hands trailing on either of her sides before he slipped her underwear down her legs. His fingers trailed along her skin as he did it, prickling the depth of her anticipation even when her mind was still trying to comprehend what she was letting herself in.

Because she had never thought of getting eaten out at work, let alone with someone she hated. Sure, hate was a very strong word, but it was what she was used to feeling whenever it came to him. It was easy to engross her hatred every time he treated her differently from the others.

Hate she could do, it came naturally to her. But to desire him, actually wanting him to bury his face between her thighs, was starting to mess her up, and not in a bad way. Not in a way that had her feeling repulsed, but in a way that made her want to grab onto his hair and pull his face right at the center of her heat.

Spencer looked up at her and smiled, as if he knew what she was thinking, and pushed up her skirt around her hips. His eyes bored into her as he hiked one of her legs onto his shoulder. His gaze traveled down her body, taking in her flushed cheeks—out of anger or embarrassment, he didn't know—and continued to sweep over the curve of her breasts before they stopped right in front of him.

"Look at you." He leaned closer, his breath brushed her damp skin. "Aren't you a pretty thing?"

There was something compelling about having Spencer sinking on his knees before her, but having his mouth wrapped around her clit pulled away her senses and her legs started to buckle that she had to grab onto the nearest cabinet for support. She stifled a moan, not expecting the enthusiastic way he devoured her from below with frantic motions of his wandering tongue.

This was so wrong. However, heat continued washing over, traveling up towards her face and burning at the tips of her ears. The more his mouth sucked onto her, lapping his tongue through her slickness, the more her body coursed with pleasure that she couldn't stop herself from sinking her fingers into his hair, holding him in place as she ground her hips over his face.

"For someone who claims to hate me," he whispered, his voice vibrating against her skin, his tongue pushing into her walls. "You sure are enjoying this."

A moan was thick in her throat until she swallowed it down, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of how true his words were. "You're annoying. So fucking annoying," she hissed.

Spencer hummed. "And you taste so good."

She gasped in surprise when she felt him lick a long stripe along her slit, the rough pad of his tongue catching her clit as she jolted. His fingers dipped into her thighs as he held her steady, lewd sounds leaving his lips as he continued to suck her wetness. His movements were suddenly fast, so feral and animalistic as he shamelessly lapped her skin, swallowing every liquid dripping off her body.

The built-up pleasure inside her continued to grow as she rolled her hips into his mouth, trying to focus on the sensation of him pressing his tongue against the same spot each time. Her chest was heaving as she tried to focus on the pleasure that was slowly taking over her rational thoughts, the coil inside her desperately close to breaking.

"Oh, god," Her voice shook, head tipped back and eyes staring at the ceiling as she felt herself dance on the precipice of release for a few agonizing moments before she finally started to shatter. Then a strangled cry left her lips as she began to buck her hips as he continued to suck her clit through her climax, the pleasure clouding her mind. It wasn't until he finally stood up, looking down at her with a grin that she finally took in what just happened.

"Do you still hate me?"

Yes, yes she did, especially with that smug smile of his taunting her. Yet she found herself hooking her fingers around the belt strap of his pants, pulling him closer as the weight of her resistance began to crumble under the force of his unwavering gaze. "So fucking much." The triumphant smile on his face grew as she started to unbuckle his belt, the sound echoing in the room. "Do you have a condom?"

"Do you really think I'm the type of person to be carrying a condom in my pocket?"

"I think you're the type of person who never gets laid." He threw her an uninterested stare which she decided to ignore. Then she let her hands fall to the side. "I'm not having sex without a condom."

Spencer weighed in her words. If he was smart, he would've stopped himself, pulled away, and accept her admission. But he didn't want to be smart, after depending on his intelligence throughout his life, he didn't want to be rational. It was definitely out of his character, but there was something about her that stirred a dormant part of him, awakening desires and emotions he hadn't known existed within his soul.

He had always prided himself on his restraint and self-discipline, but after finally having a taste of her, he found himself unraveling. He wanted more. So he leaned closer, and pressed a desperate kiss at the hollow of her throat, marveling at the way her body trembled from his touch. "Why not?"

She was going to regret it. She really was. But damn it, how could she restrain herself when he was sucking into her skin like a man starved. She splayed her hands on his chest and pushed him away before giving him the deadliest glare she could muster.

"I swear to god if you finish inside me I will kill you."

Then a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. "Was planning to come in your mouth anyway."

She was about to retort a haughty response when he suddenly grabbed her by the elbow and turned her around, pushing her against the wall. She was taken aback by the newfound dominance he exuded in his touch. It was a side of him she had never witnessed before, and it sent a thrill of surprise and intrigue coursing through her veins, something she would never admit out loud.

He dragged his tongue across his lips at the sight before him as his hands reached for his belt, unclasping the strap before unbuttoning his pants, the sound of his zipper being pulled down echoing in the narrowed space. He then slightly pulled down his briefs, slipping out his cock before his knee wedged in between her thighs, parting her legs to open.

He slightly shifted, his jaw twitching as he gathered saliva in his mouth, craning his neck down to spit on her pulsing core before the head of his cock gently nudged her clit. Embarrassingly, she clenched around nothing. Her vision went white and she felt herself tremble as he positioned himself at her entrance, pushing in inch by inch.

"Fuck," he sighed, hips twitching as he finally slid into her fully, feeling her walls clenching hard around him. "I can get used to this."

She could get used to this too. She had never felt so full before, never felt herself being stretched like this so deliciously, but she certainly didn't need to feed his ego by moaning about it. "Well don't, this is the only time I'm letting this happen."

He pulled back his hips, leaving only the tip as he watched her slickness coated around him. "We'll see about that."

And then all hell broke loose.

He slammed into her with so much force that she let out a muffled scream as her eyes shot wide open. He relentlessly bucked his hips, his cock filling her over and over without self-control, the tip of him hitting her deepest parts relentlessly. She could barely even think as his hips fell into a rhythm, sending her higher and higher with each thrust.

Her legs tensed up even more at the pressure, his hands gripping her hips so hard his fingers dig into her flesh that she knew she would leave bruises. Behind her, he was grunting and growling through gritted teeth as he repeatedly buried himself into her without remorse. It didn't take long before his vicious thrusts had her eyes rolling back behind closed lids, her mind going entirely blank to everything but this very moment.

One of his hands released her hip before she felt him grabbing a fistful of her hair, just at the base of her skull, and sharply pulling. A high-pitched, breathy noise tore out of her at the feel of it. "Poor baby," he cooed. "Look at you so desperate for my cock."

She couldn't help but be stunned by his words. Who would've thought Spencer Reid was good at dirty talk? Definitely not her. It was as though he had unveiled a secret facet of his personality that had remained hidden until now, and she found herself captivated by this revelation.

Not that she was going to admit this, of course, so instead, she solely focused on the way he addressed her. "I am not your baby."

"You want me to call you something else?" He asked between bated breaths, hips thrusting into her. "How about Angel? Darling? Sweetheart?"

She let out a frustrated groan at his teasing but it was probably impossible to discern it from the rest of the noises she was trying to hold. "Are you always this chatty during sex?"

"No," he hummed as he picked up his pace, sending a helpless spasm through her.

"R-Really?" She mused breathlessly. "I must be special then."

He then tugged on her hair even rougher, causing her to curse loudly in response, her hips beginning to eagerly press backward into him as his hips jutted into her relentlessly like a man possessed. "Don't get too cocky."

"Just admit it," she whispered, pleasure racing down her body in waves. "You like me."

With another sharp tug on her hair, he abruptly plunged his cock so deep inside of her that she couldn't stop herself from arching her back. He held himself there as he used the grip on her hair to haul her backward to him, a surprised yelp falling out of her. "I don't like you."

Her back fell onto his chest and she felt his body vibrating behind her. "Then why is your heart beating so fast?"

"Well, sex is physically exerting so..."

How was it possible to be this aroused and annoyed at the same time? Wasn't sex supposed to be enjoyable? Well, she was clearly enjoying this, but it was hard to fully sink into the pleasure when he was driving her insane. Unless...

It dawned on her, that was her move. That was how she could play his game. Maybe she should be enjoying this to the fullest, maybe she should stroke his ego, get into his head, and have him feel as desperate as she was. A fierce determination ignited within her, fueling a newfound resolve to turn the tables on him. This was how she was going to get him back.

"Harder," she asked, pushing her hips into him.

His pace suddenly slowed down, uncertain whether he was hearing her right. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "Please?" she added before he could prompt her.

A satisfied sound escaped his lips—it was a sound she had never heard coming from him, loud and crude emitting between a growl and something coming close to a whimper, which had her smiling triumphantly. "L-Look at you begging now."

This was easier than she expected. She rolled her head back against his shoulder and let out a moan she had kept so hard on controlling. "I want you to fuck me harder, Spencer."

His sharp intake of breath at that moment was worth it. "I know what you're doing."

"What am I doing, baby?" she asked sweetly, dripping in forced affection that sounded nothing like her at all.

He instantly released the hold on her hair, his hand snaking around to grip her throat as his other hand slid around the front of her. "You're messing with me."

She let out a strained sound as she felt his other hand traveling down where they were connected. "I-I thought you wanted me to admit how good you make me feel? Is that not enough? You want me to cry out how amazing your cock feels inside me?"

Then she couldn't help her next words.

"Should I call you daddy?"

Oh, that got him. He hissed as the hand on her throat tightened. "You're a menace."

"A menace you enjoy fucking?"

His lips curled into a snarl. "I'm going to wipe that smug look off your face."

Only then he began to thrust back into her roughly. A series of breathy, needy gasps fell out of her as she held tight onto his forearm that was holding her by her throat. His other hand on her clit circled around roughly, touching her just right that she entirely lost it, her hips quaked against him as he groaned out in response, her walls clenching his cock.

Then his hand left her clit a few moments later, instead landing hard on her ass with a sharp smack that sounded throughout the room. His fingers dug into the flesh there as his hips began clumsily ramming into her, his cock twitching inside of her. The stimulation was too much for her that she clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to keep quiet as he stretched her harshly, the delicious burn only adding to the pleasure.

"You're still holding back?" He taunted, bringing back his hand before another loud smack rang in her ears, her ass burning from the pain. "Let that voice out, no one's going to hear you."

It was amazing how long she could hold in her pleasure because now her walls were starting to crumble when a particularly deep and brutal thrust had his cock hitting her just right. And then, it happened—the dam of restraint finally burst. A low moan escaped her lips, a primal cry of pleasure that echoed through the room like a song of surrender

"That's it," he grunted. "You sound so pretty."

As the sensations intensified, her breaths came in shallow gasps, her heart pounding in her chest. Once she let herself go, she couldn't stop herself from moaning out his name, to which he responded with his own moan, especially when she clenched around him even tighter.

"You gonna come for me now?" She helplessly nodded, not trusting herself to form any coherent words, squirming her hips against him for more. "Go on then," he demanded, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Come for me."

She finally snapped as she gave in to the sensation that had been gradually crawling its way up her spine. Pleasure was soon coating every inch of her and as her eyes closed. She didn't bother to muffle her cries this time as she fell apart around his cock, her body convulsing as he continued to thrust inside her, forcing the pleasure to keep growing stronger and stronger until small black spots started to appear in her vision.

When her climax had washed over, she was left dizzy and breathless, still leaning against him. His loud panting breaths quickly filled her ears, his chest heaving beneath her head and she could tell by the way his hips were fluctuating in their pace, the feel of his throbbing cock inside of her, that he was very close to his release.

Panic suddenly crept into her daze state and she craned her neck to look back. "Don't you dare finish inside me, I swear to god—"

Very abruptly he slipped his cock out from inside of her, his arms releasing their hold on her just as fast before turning her to face him.

"Get on your knees."

The ground scraped her skin as she quickly sank onto her knees, and just because he looked so damn good tethering in his pleasure as she stared up at him, she gripped his cock in her hands and took him fully in her mouth.

"Fuck," the gravel in his voice was prominent, her lips gliding effortlessly down his shaft until her nose hits his stomach. His hand finds its way into her hair as she kneeled there before him, fisting a bunch of it at the scalp, desperately needing something to tie him down to reality.

She slid back off his cock to take just his head inside her mouth, swirling her tongue around it before flattening it against his tip, licking a fat stripe while looking up at him through her lashes. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, tightening the grip on her hair.

Maintaining his gaze, she took him completely down her throat again, essentially swallowing him, holding herself there until she gagged around him. She could taste him on her tongue as she continued to repeat the motion, tears welling at her lids and saliva building at her lips, seeping down her chin.

He groaned at the sight.

"I-I'm gonna come—"

And he did. She felt lightheaded as the first shot of liquid filled her mouth, and then he jutted his hips a few more times before another surge of his release spilled down her throat. She swallowed him whole, swallowed every drop of him into her mouth as he continued to look down in wonder. She never thought of ever being in this position, but now she decided there was nothing else more satisfying than to watch her rival come undone from her touch.

Although she couldn't dwell in her contentment for long because as she released him from her mouth, the sound of the door rattling waked her senses. Panic flashed in her eyes as they met his gaze, and they instinctively stepped apart before sprinting into action, Spencer tucking himself back in his pants, while she quickly got to her feet and pulled down her skirt, scurrying to the other side of the room.

It wasn't until she spotted her underwear laying by his feet that she realized she was still naked underneath. Spencer followed her line of sight and just as the door creaked, he bent down and quickly grabbed the fabric, shoving it in his pocket at the same time their friend entered the room.

"There you are," Luke sighed in relief, casting them both a look. "We've been searching everywhere for you guys. Are you both alright? I thought I heard screaming."

In that fleeting moment, they both exchanged a glance laden with unspoken messages, each silently urging the other to maintain composure.

"Yes. I-uh." She cleared her throat, struggling to suppress the heat rising to her cheeks, willing herself not to betray the blush that threatened to expose what went on before this. "I was screaming for help."

Luke watched them with keen eyes, skepticism etched upon his face. A subtle tension crackled in the air, barely noticeable to most but not escaping the scrutiny of his gaze. He watched as Spencer hid his face behind a file he was holding, and she was studying her nails as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

He narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything, before stepping back towards the door again. "Well, come on, there's a new lead on the case. Everyone's waiting."

When he finally left them alone again, she let out a breath she wasn't aware of holding and quickly held out her hand. Spencer raised his eyebrows at her. "What?"

"My underwear?"

He stared at her empty hand, then at her face, and shrugged nonchalantly, leaving her dumbfounded as he started to leave the room before the door closed on them again.

"Reid," she hissed, following behind him. "Give it back."

He looked over his shoulder and gave her a smile, or something close to it because even after what happened a few minutes ago his smile was far from looking genuine. "Come by my place after work and I might give it to you."

Her steps faltered.

"Might?"

But his back was already facing her as he strode down the hallway. She stood there, feeling extremely exposed wearing nothing but her own skin underneath her skirt, and the only way to get back her missing piece of clothing was to force herself in his presence again.

She closed her eyes and sighed, not sure what she felt right now was either anger or exhaustion. Probably both—no, wait, definitely both.

Because what the fuck did she get herself into?

.

Quick question, if I make a taglist for my one-shots does anyone want to be added?

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencerreid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #Spotify

[moon-rivr]

Every day I wake up and want Miguel O’Hara, a man who can cherish me with all my heart but also fuck my brains and yk what so hard to the point it’s mush /j

That aside, I’d looove to see jealous Miggy railing the shit out of Y/N all bc an old classmate from high school/uni was all being handsy and Miguel didn’t like that bc he didn’t get the hint 😏

celoso

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: situationship, jealousy, mentions of verbal abuse, reader gets pinned against wall, semi-public sex, oral (m receiving), fingering, biting, marking, unprotected p in v (be safe 🤨🤨), doggy, brief choking, spanking

a/n: so i was thinking of making this into a relationship fic buttt my hand slipped (whoops)

word count: 4.3K

"Wey, you're gonna end up breaking that cup."

Miguel looked down at the glass of champagne he was holding, his knuckles starting to turn white from how forcefully he was holding it. He couldn't help it though, especially with the way Flash wrapped his hand around your waist while he made you laugh. "Not like they don't have more cups," he responded, looking back over to his brother who had a knowing smile on his face. "I don't get it, you both like each other so why not pursue something?" Gabriel asked him, the same question that had been tormenting Miguel these last couple weeks.

The only reason that Miguel had even agreed to come back to the reunion was because of the way that you looked at him, clearly excited to see how everyone's life had been going so far. He didn't care that much about the people that used him for test answers but he wouldn't miss the opportunity to spend some time with you. "We wouldn't be seen together but as long as the two of us know we're there together then who really cares?" You had told him, his plans wrecked by the bomb you'd dropped. He ended up going to the event regardless because no matter how hard he tried, he could never find it in him to deny you anything.

Flashing disco lights mixed with the loud music was supposed to provide an ambiance full of enjoyment but it did nothing more than just torment Miguel. He hated the fact that his eyes seemed to find you in every room you were in without putting in much effort like a siren capturing its prey. All the event did was remind him that he no right to be feeling possessive over you, that he had no authority to be feeling jealous at some other man having his hands all over you.

He knew that you didn't want to pursue a relationship, but he couldn't help the feelings that he'd developed towards you. So in attempt just to have you present in his life, he'd agreed to keep this no-strings fling with you. The lines kept blurring every so often though, with the two of you going on dates and being each other's confidant. He was moderately happy with the arrangement that the two of you shared, but seeing you getting so comfortable with another man made him wish that he had the balls to ask you for something more.

"We're both fine with the no-strings thing we have going on," Miguel told him, loosening his grip on the cup before taking a sip. Gabriel raised a brow as he reached over to grab a champagne glass from the table. "Ya estas muy viejo para andar con estas mamadas," Gabriel retorted, standing next to him as he patted him on the shoulder. (you’re too old to be doing this shit) "Ni tan viejo, solo 27," he grumbled, his brows furrowing even further as he saw you place your hand on Flash's shoulder. (not that old, just 27) "There's people here who are already married," Gabriel offered, letting out a laugh as Miguel’s scowl deepened further.

You were talking with some friends in the middle of the gymnasium floor, trying to avoid eye contact with Miguel as your friends tried to recognize the people around them. "Wow, he's so tall and hot," Sasha, your friend, pointed out and you didn't even have to turn around to know she was referring to Miguel. "Isn't that the guy who used to wear those stupid glasses? I think his name was Manuel or something," your other friend, Jenna, remarked once she stopped kissing her boyfriend long enough to see who you were all talking about. You bit on the inside of your cheek to avoid correcting her, not wanting to drag any suspicion to yourself.

You listened to your friends talking as they excluded you from the conversation, wondering why you even put up with them back in uni. You excused yourself though you weren't sure if anyone really cared about your absence and headed to the bathroom. You were about to enter when you suddenly felt a strong grip on your arm, turning around to be faced with Flash. "Why'd you leave so early, pretty girl?" He asked you, his mouth reeking from the vodka he'd been drinking all night. "I just need to fix my makeup," you responded, trying to get him to loosen his grip but he pushed you against the wall.

"I've been thinking.. we were really good during university so what do you say if we rekindle that flame?" He asked, clearly oblivious to the fear sparking up in your eyes. "Dude, get off me. you're hurting my arm," you tried to plead with him but the grip around you only intensified. He leaned into kiss you, your knee hitting him in the groin once he got close to you. "STUPID WHORE!" He screamed after you ran away from him. You weren't too focused on where you were going, just making the effort to get away from him as much as possible.

You didn't realize you'd bumped into someone, your eyes flickering up to meet Miguel’s red ones. "What's wrong?" He questioned, his gaze softening a bit as he looked down at you. "Oh thank goodness I found you," you mumbled, just burying your head in his chest without caring who was around. His hand came to hold yours, only stopping when he felt you flinch underneath. "Who did this to you?" you could tell that he was trying to remain calm as he asked that question, some venom still managing to seep through. "Flash Thompson," you responded, holding his arm before he had the chance to storm off.

"Can you just stay with me, please?" You asked him, tears brimming on your waterline. He let out a small sigh, almost like he was conflicted but he nodded and went with you to the football field. The two of you sat on the stands, sounds of cicadas around filling up the silence. You leaned against Miguel’s shoulder, finding comfort in just being around him despite the rough facade that he'd built for himself. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, seemingly wanting to keep you away from any further danger that would come.

"It's so stupid, I actually thought that he was an okay partner during our time in university. Like sure, he was verbally abusive towards me but he was nice during these short periods of time," you spoke out, feeling Miguel’s eyes bore into you as you did. "Is that why you're so avoidant on being in a relationship?" He asked you, his hand tracing small circles on your shoulder. You took a couple seconds to think about his question, wondering if Flash had really had that much of an effect on you and your future relationships. "It's part of the reason why, I think seeing everyone around me in unhealthy relationships kind of set in stone for me."

"I don't think it's wrong what you're doing, but are you sure you're not closing off opportunities just because of that fear?" He inquired, his hand coming down to your waist as he held you close to him. The truth was that you did allow yourself to wonder about the 'what-ifs' but they always ended up in the worst result. "I just don't see the whole point of putting myself through the pain of being in a relationship, y'know? Plus, you're pretty good company," you responded, flashing a small smile towards him.

Miguel didn't say anything, but he didn't need to in that moment. All you were looking for was for someone to hold you, to make you feel like you were okay again. You got up when you heard your phone buzzing, a message from your friend asking to come back to the party. "I'll come meet you later tonight," you told Miguel before you left, leaning over to press your lips against his cheek. You couldn't help but feel butterflies in your stomach as you saw your lipstick mark on him, practically marking him as yours. "Don't think I forgot about all those little touches by the way!" He yelled after you, a small chuckle escaping from his lips while he waited for you to leave.

You walked back into the party, seeing your friends still standing in their spot without Flash. You grabbed yourself a drink from a table nearby, listening in to the conversation happening around you. You let out the small occasional 'hm' and 'mhm' in response to their conversation, not willing yourself to feign more interest than that. If your friends had noticed something off, they hadn't bothered to mention it. Your eyes glanced over to Gabriel, seeing that Miguel still hadn't come back from the field. You found yourself growing a bit worried for him, taking a sip from your soda to try to calm down.

Miguel saw Flash as he walking back from the football field, unable to hold himself back the longer he looked at him. As Miguel approached him, he could tell that his frame clearly overpowered his, but Flash still tried to pretend like he was the one in power of this situation. "What the hell do you want, nerd?" Flash asked him, speaking to him like he didn't matter much more than the dirt below his feet. "What I want is for you not to put a hand on her again," Miguel spoke calmly, despite the storm that was brewing up inside him. "And if I don't?"

The whole thing had happened in a blur, one minute Flash was laughing in face and calling him a nerd and the other he was on the floor screaming for help. Miguel had to mentally restrain himself as he punched him, his fist leaving Flash with a crooked and bloody nose. "That's what happens if you don't," Miguel responded, wiping away the blood on his handkerchief before walking away. He stepped away into the restroom, his hand throbbing as he washed away the blood flash leaked onto his hand. Your concern for Miguel was quickly replaced with shock when Flash came into the gymnasium, blood spilling onto the white shirt he had on.

You’d almost missed Miguel walking in behind him as he tried his best to blend into the shadows while he walked back to Gabriel. Your attention was brought back to the group when they let out a collective gasp once they noticed Flash walking over. "What the hell happened to you?" Sasha asked him, a tone of amusement in her voice as she spoke. "Bumped into a door," he responded, grabbing some ice from the bowl nearby and placing them into a napkin. You noticed he kept his distance from you this time, giving you only the occasional dirty look.

Gabriel looked up from his phone to look up at Miguel, taking a look at his throbbing hand. "Don't ask," Miguel grumbled, placing an ice cold soda against his knuckles. "Wasn't going to. How's the other guy doing?" Gabriel asked before he looked over where Miguel was staring, noticing Flash's bloody nose. He let out a small hiss as a response, clapping Miguel’s shoulder. "Well at least he looks worse than you. I was gonna text you after you abandoned me, met some girl that wanted to dance with me," Gabriel spoke before leaving Miguel alone in the shadows.

You watched as Jenna danced with gabriel, despite the fact that her boyfriend had only just left the event. The group decided to join her on the dance floor and so you did the same, dancing to the rhythm of the song that was playing. Your eyes met Miguel’s as you danced, your hips moving sensually to the rhythm of the song. You could feel other people staring at you and the way that you moved, but your eyes couldn't leave Miguel’s no matter how hard you willed yourself to try. His stone cold facade broke down when he clenched his fists by his sides, a clear sign that you were affecting him.

You looked at him as he pulled his phone out, his thumbs rushing across the keyboard as he tried to write the words out to the best of his ability. You felt a buzz in your purse, seeing a text message from Miguel to meet him in the restroom. You placed your phone back in your purse, taking a small gulp as you walked into the restroom after him. "Second stall," he spoke up once he heard the door close, your heels clicking across the bathroom floor while you walked to him. "What if that'd been someone else?" You teased him as you walked into the stall, closing it immediately to avoid getting caught.

The words soon enough died in your throat as Miguel unbuttoned his pants, his cock hard under his boxers. "You see what you do to me, beautiful? Couldn't stand all those others staring at what's mine," he told you, bringing your face up to his as he kissed you. The kiss was rough, like he was just desperate to get a taste of you. His mouth travelled down to your throat, leaving a small mark on the side of your neck. "You're all mine," he whispered, his touch featherlight as he kissed your neck. You got down on your knees, palming his cock through the boxers.

You slid them off, his cock hitting his stomach once it was released from its confines. You wrapped one of your hands around it, starting to stroke him as your mouth went towards his thighs. You left small kisses on his thigh, making your way up to his cock. You placed a small kiss on the tip of his cock, your lipstick leaving a mark as you did. You opened up your mouth, swirling your tongue around the reddened head with your eyes locked straight on his. His hand came back to the back of your head, holding you in place as you got started.

You took more of his cock in your mouth, never growing quite adjusted to the size of him. Your cheeks hollowed as you made your way down his shaft, your tongue running down the underside of his cock. His hips bucked forward, your gags filling up the empty bathroom. "So pretty, all stuffed with cock like that," he murmured, your eyes watering slightly as you tried to control the tears streaming down from your cheeks. Your hand wrapped around the base, pumping what your mouth couldn't reach and the other one went to play with his balls. You held his heavy balls in your hand, tugging them slightly and massaging them in your grasp.

"Oh fuuuck, just like that," he moaned quietly, soft groans erupting from his chest as you continued to suck on his cock. You pulled away, spitting on the tip while the liquid travelled downward. Your grip on the base tightened as you moved your hand up and down his cock, looking up at him in anticipation. You brought your mouth back to his cock, your lipstick smeared across and your mascara dripping down your cheeks. "Tan hermosa que eres," he groaned as he felt your tongue running along the underside of his tip, the sight of him looking so disheveled making your panties wetter by the second. (you’re so beautiful)

You felt your pussy clench around nothing as you sucked him off, your panties damp from how much you were affected by this. You felt his legs shaking underneath you, his groans becoming louder as he approached his orgasm. "Where do you want it?" He asked, his voice cracking a bit from the sensation he was feeling. You opened up your mouth, sticking your tongue out as your hand pumped him at the same rate you were going beforehand. "Just like that, don't stop," he told you, biting into his hand as he approached his orgasm. White ropes of cum filled up your mouth, some of it landing on your cheeks and chin.

"I look horrible," you noticed as you looked at yourself in the mirror, your lipstick barely clinging on. "Well I think you look pretty," Miguel responded, wrapping his arms around your waist as he peppered your neck with more kisses. You wiped away at the mascara dripping down from your cheeks, deciding to give up on that aspect and just fix up your lipstick. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle as you saw the mark on miguel's lips, handing him a piece of tissue paper to clean up.

Once the two of you had fixed up the slightest bit, you left at separate times. You waited for Miguel to text you the okay before leaving the bathroom, walking back over to your friends. "What's up with you? You keep disappearing," Jenna pointed out once you came back, the darkness of the gym hiding away the hickey blooming on the side of your neck. So much for them not noticing your absence.

"Just drank a little too much soda," you responded, keeping your voice even so they wouldn't notice your little fib. You looked around, noticing that Gabriel was standing off to the side once more. "What happened to dancing with him?" You decided to change the subject, receiving a small shrug in response. "I don't know, he's too sweet? His brother, though, definitely looks like he's a freak in the sheets," she pointed out and you couldn't help but feel a bit of possessiveness over Miguel. You decided to ignore her little comment, letting her go back to talking with the rest of the group.

Miguel walked back over to Gabriel, finding him sulking alone in the shadows. "It's funny, almost every girl I've been with chooses you for some reason despite the fact that you're an asshole," Gabriel spoke up, Miguel’s chest tightening up a bit as he spoke. He'd never meant to make his brother feel inferior, never meant to make him feel like he was something less. "The girl you were dancing with had a boyfriend so I wouldn't wallow too much over that," Miguel responded, approaching Gabriel slowly. "Yeah, you're probably right," he responded with a small sigh, still feeling down.

Soon enough, another woman had approached Gabriel and asked him for a coffee, without offering Miguel as much as a second glance. Miguel looked down at his phone, checking the time on his phone before walking out of the gym. You came out right after he did, stepping side by side with him. "How's your brother doing? Jenna’s kind of.. a lot so I’m sorry," you spoke up first, looking up at Miguel. "He's alright, he found someone else to get over it. How do you feel about getting back to my place?"

On the drive back home, you couldn't help but feel aroused at the sight of him behind the wheel. He just drove so eloquently, his muscles flexing in the thin button down he had on with every movement that he made. You spread your legs, noticing Miguel looking at you through the corner of his eye. You tentatively played with your folds through the thin material of your panties, looking over at Miguel as he struggled to maintain his composure. "It's like you want me to crash, little minx," he muttered, looking straight at the road. You took off your panties slowly, bringing your fingers up to Miguel’s mouth.

He wrapped his mouth around them as he kept his attention on the road, covering them in his spit. You brought them back into your weeping hole, sticking them in. You started off slow, your slick combining with his spit each time you pushed them inside. Miguel’s hand around the steering wheel tightened, letting out a grunt as he heard the squelch from your pussy. You began rocking your pelvis against your hand, riding your two fingers as soft moans escaped from your lips. Miguel brought his other hand towards your clit, rubbing the nub as he continued to drive across the empty streets.

Just as you were about to cum, Miguel pulled his hand away despite your protests. "You'll only be coming around my cock, understand?" He told you, the car coming to a stop. You looked around, noticing that the two of you had arrived to his penthouse. You felt your pussy clench up at his promise, your shaky feet barely taking you out of his car. Without a word, miguel picked you up with ease and locked up the car before taking you inside.

The two of you had barely gotten through the door when Miguel started kissing you, his mouth engulfing around yours like he was afraid you'd go away. "We should go to the bedroom, yeah?" You suggested to him in between kisses, his hand grabbing yours as he led you up the stairs. The minute the two of you had made it back to the bedroom, his lips were back on yours as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth like it was the first time doing so.

He wasted no time in zipping down your dress and taking off his clothes, a pile quickly building up underneath the two of you. "Get down on your hands and knees," he told you, your body obliging almost immediately. His hand rubbed the globe of your ass cheek, a sharp smack taking all the breath from your lungs. "I want you to count for the amount of times he had his hands on you," he spoke, his hand gently soothing the sting from the previous slap. "Okay!" You exclaimed, letting out a moan as his hand came down to smack your ass once more. "One!"

The process continued for four more times, Miguel’s hands gripping your hips as he pushed his cock inside of you. "You only belong to me, I don't care if it's official to you or not, it is to me," he spoke, a small grunt escaping from his lips as he felt your pussy clench around him. No matter how many times he'd fucked you, the process was still a stretch every time. You gripped onto the pillow below you tightly, his cock moving inside of you slightly as he tried to fit in.

He retracted his cock, slamming into you in sharp thrust. "All mine, understand?" He told you, leaning in slightly as his chest hit your back. "All yours!" You responded, the words not feeling like something you were just saying in the moment. The grip around your waist tightened, his cock retracting out of your pussy much faster this time. Drool rolled down to your chin as he sped up, his thrusts almost punishing you for letting another man touch you. Your back arched, stomach against the bed as he rocked you back and forth.

He brought you back up, your back plush against his chest while his hips snapped into yours. You held onto the headboard, the wooden frame hitting the wall with every thrust that he took. One of his hands held your waist as he fucked you to his will, the other wrapping around your throat. He provided enough pressure to make your vision blur at the edges but not enough to the point where you were suffocating. The blood rushed up to your head with every thrust that he took, your mouth parted in a 'o' shape as you moaned out babbles of what seemed to be his name.

He tilted your head back to his directions, leaning in as he kissed you with such intensity that it made you dizzy. You weren't too sure if it was from him or the momentary oxygen loss, but you couldn't get enough of how well he was fucking you. You went back to being on your hands and knees, almost feeling his cock in your throat from this angle. One of his fingers circled the rim of your ass, never willing to do that without your proper consent but he liked to toy with the idea every so often. That hand went down to your clit, rubbing your clit and flicking the nub to the rhythm of his thrusts.

A new wave of your slick coated his cock, some of it rolling down to the covers beneath the two of you. Your mind was erased from every thought that didn't include coming around Miguel’s cock. Your walls clamped around him once more, a moan erupting from your throat while your release coated his cock. He continued with the same pace, fucking you through the orgasm as he sought out for his own release. His thrusts stuttered slightly, becoming off-pace as he reached the brink of his own orgasm.

His head came down to your shoulder, biting down on it as white ropes of cum coated your walls. His fangs gently grazed against your shoulder blade when he removed his mouth, waiting for his cock to soften up so he could remove it. He slid out in one swift motion, getting a rag from the bed stand. he cleaned in between your thighs, his touch light as he did. "Can you stand up for a minute? I'm not letting you sleep on those sheets," he asked you, helping you get up from the bed.

After he'd changed the sheets, you couldn't help but look up at him curiously. "Was that talk about me being yours just something out of the heat of the moment or..?" You asked, trailing off since you didn't want to make wrongful assumptions. "No, it wasn't. I only agreed to this stupid fling because I just wanted to be with you. I'm sorry if I'm acting rash or anything, we can go back to normal," he responded, willing to put aside his feelings for you just so he'd have these moments. "I don't want things to go back to normal, I want to be with you."

#moon-rivr #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut #smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #spiderman atsv #miguel x reader #miguel fic #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara fic #miguel ohara #miguel 2099 #miguel smut #miguel ohara spiderman #spiderman smut #spiderman #spiderman 2099 smut #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse

[lxkeee]

UNEXPECTED

—ONESHOT

PAIRING: LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X FEM! SINNER! READER

GENRE: not angst:)

WARNINGS: no angst fr

NOTES: When I hit a writing slump in one of my series, I try to write one shots to inspire myself:3

We fall in love with three different people in our lifetime.

First love, this love often happens at a young age. You eventually grow apart or call it quits over silly things. When you get older you may look back and think it wasn't love. But the truth is, it was. It was love for what you knew love to be.

Lucifer fell in love with his best friend, Raphael. She was the only one who believed in his silly dreams when he was still in heaven, that's one of the reasons he fell for the seraphim. He didn't tell her, he didn't get the chance to as unfortunately, Raphael told him about her crush on Azrael.

This made him put a distance between them, despite a breaking heart, he played as her wingman and set her and Azrael up.

Lucifer was proud of himself for doing that, he got to see his best friend to be so happy and in love. He can see how good Azrael is treating her and he knows that she'll be in safe hands.

Second love, the hard one. You get hurt in this one. This love teaches us lessons and makes us stronger. This love includes great pain, lies, betrayal, abuse, drama and damage.

But this is the one where we grow. We realize what we love about love and what we don't love about love.

Now we know the difference between good and bad humans. Now we become closed, careful, cautious and considerate.

We know exactly what we want and don't want.

After Azrael and Raphael got married, it wasn't exactly difficult for Lucifer to move on. He saw how happy she is and he decided that he shouldn't dwell on heartbreaking things. He continues to do his wonderful creations for the world. Raphael remained supportive of him, continuing to believe in his dreams despite the elders not believing in him.

Then came Adam and Lilith, he was mesmerized when he saw Lilith when he visited the Garden of Eden.

He fell in love with her and so did she to him, he listened to her how Adam wasn't treating her right. He couldn't believe a woman like her is treated like that.

He talked about her to Raphael and even though the seraphim was happy for him, she warned him not to do anything stupid. He promised that he wouldn't.

The more time he spent with Lilith, they slowly got to know each other.

He and Lilith shared the same beliefs, causing them to give the fruit of forbidden knowledge to Adam's new bride, Eve who gladly accepted.

With that, evil finally found its way to earth. Lucifer and Lilith were both banished into hell for what they had done.

Even though hell was dark, empty, and incredibly hot. He and Lilith managed to make it work. They were madly and deeply in love. Their love bore fruit and that is their beloved daughter, Charlotte Morningstar.

An eternity in hell with his family doesn't seem so bad.

Not all happy things last, slowly his and Lilith's beliefs started to clash once mortal souls slowly came down to hell. Lucifer witnessed the cruelty of mankind, how his actions gave these souls freedom to do incredibly horrifying things.

“This is how they used their free will...?” he asked himself.

He hated it, he lost so much because of the risk he did to give humanity freedom.

Lilith on the other hand, thrived off the evil.

Their differences caused them to split.

He fell into depression, how couldn't he? The woman he loved for so many eons left him? Not only that, his relationship with his daughter is deteriorating. He doesn't even remember when was the last time he held her.

For so many years, he believed that he was unlovable and he was destined to be alone. Why wouldn't he think that when the love of his life, the mother of his daughter left him?

Third love, this one comes blindly. No warning. It creeps on you silently.

You don't go looking for this love.. It comes to you.

You can put up ANY wall you want, it will be broken down. You'll find yourself caring about that person without trying. They look nothing like your usual crush types, but you get lost in their eyes daily. You see beauty in their imperfections. You hide nothing from them. You want marriage and family with them. You thank the universe for them. You truly love them.

It took a while but Lucifer managed to reconnect with his daughter, he promised to be there for her.

He helped her how to get to heaven, he helped her when the extermination happened.

He was proud of himself, promising to help the hotel as he can finally see that his daughter's dreams weren't hopeless. He was filled with hope once more, he wanted to help humanity once more.

It was sudden, no warning. He wasn't even looking for love.

Lucifer found himself staring at the third sinner who joined the hotel, [Y/n]. She joined and he was able to befriend and get to know the sinner.

He showed off his rubber duck collections to her, he thought she would find his hobby silly but turns out she loved it and found it adorable.

It was unexpected.

He suddenly found himself wide awake in his bed at the dead of the night, staring at the ceiling as countless thoughts of [Y/n] filled his mind.

“Uh oh.” he muttered, a realization that he fell for the sinner so suddenly and he fell hard.

He can only think of her bright and sparkly [e/c] eyes, her soft hair, soft skin, her beautiful face, and everything of her.

He groans, “Luciferrrr... you just had to fall for someone so suddenly and that is your friend too.” he groans to himself, mad at himself for falling for someone he thought he could call a friend.

He doesn't want to be friends with her, he wants to be more. He wants to marry her, have a family with her, worship her like the sinner he is.

After coming to the realization, he decided not to confess immediately. Wanting to see how deep his affections for her goes.

And it was deep, it was rock bottom. He was whipped.

He doesn't mind losing himself in the process when he loves her.

He pretended, he hid his feelings. Afraid of losing her.

It took so long, hiding it became unbearable.

He spilled the three words to her, “I like you.” he says so suddenly, he was mesmerized by her that the words came out so suddenly. Catching both him and her off guard.

His eyes widened, slapping a hand over his mouth.

[Y/n] just looked at him with wide eyes, cheeks tinted pink from fluster.

“I-I'm sorry, pretend I didn't say that...” he says, slightly stammering his words. His heart was beating erratically, his hands felt warm against his gloves. His cheeks are warm, warmer than usual. The spots on his cheek have reddened more than usual, almost glowing red.

He covered his face with his hand, embarrassed.

He was expecting that she would be gone once he removed his hands away from his face.

He felt his hand being held by soft ones, removing them from his face.

“Lucifer, look at me.” she says softly to him, he looked at her shyly and with embarrassment. His red eyes finally met [e/c] ones. He admired how beautiful she looked.

Her eyes were looking at him with so much adoration, cheeks flushed, and she was shyly smiling at him.

“Did you mean what you said?” she asked softly, hope evident in her voice.

He gulped nervously but decided to nod at her, a slow shy nod.

He could see how her eyes sparkled, her smile got bigger.

“I'm glad... I like you too, Lucifer.” she admitted softly to him, her voice devoid of any lies and only filled with honesty.

His eyes widened, his cheeks getting warmer.

“Why...? What's something about me to love?” he asked her sadly, avoiding her eyes. He is happy she felt the same but he genuinely can't see himself deserving of love.

“There's nothing about you that I couldn't love, I love everything about you... Lucifer.” she admitted softly, holding his hand with hers.

His breath got caught in his throat, his heart beating erratically against his ribcage.

“I am hard to love.” he says softly, ashamed. He squeezed her hand gently.

“Who said that?” she asked softly.

“Me.”

Her eyes softened, her other hand caressed his cheek adoringly, “Well, you're wrong. I can love you just as easily as breathing.”

Speechless, embarrassed, and flustered. He's not used to such affectionate words said to him.

“Huh...?”

“I meant it.” she says softly, leaning closer to him, “Can I kiss you...?” she asked and he forgot to breathe.

“Y-yes, please...”

Soft lips pressed against his, his eyes closed instinctively as his hand found its way to her waist, pulling her closer to him.

They'll be fine. He'll be fine. He has her now.

GENERAL TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @kooidoom @yukichan67 @apple-pop @akiralovespenguins @storydays @amphiroxx @lil-writer-523 @punching-pentagrams @moonlovers34 @akiqvq @the-attention-whore @homie-xidal @nicora04 @knave-hearts @emekeneme @chirp23 @wendds @crazed-flower @your-next-daydream @rocketxgirl @tobe-a-smiley @purplerose291 @ritzes28

#hazbin hotel #lxkeee updates #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you

[m-ayo-o]

Can u do their hard limits for the nsfw🙏🏽 and love ur works🖤

ooh dear xx

jjk men : their hard limits in bed

includes many kinks mentioned or explicitly described !! EXPLICIT 18+ CONTENT

toji ⋆ kento ⋆ satoru ⋆ suguru x sub/switch afab reader

[tw: anal, threesomes, explicit knife play, gun play, pegging, predator prey, explicit cnc, gag, period sex mention, safe word use, explicit somnophilia, breath play mention, pet play, collaring, blindfold, bondage, choking, public toy use, degradation kink, slapping, spit kink, praise, humiliation, tail butt plug use]

Toji

He's filthy. Anything goes with this man. You think of the kinkiest shit you've ever heard? He's done it. Nothing will surprise him. When he was younger, in his twenties, he found himself getting totally obsessed with anal until getting in a girls' cute ass was all he could think of.

He soon found his love for pretty hard kinks- especially when women asked for it. He leaned into that roguish demeanour of his very heavily, and found so many girls who loved it. So much so that he nearly had to give Shiu a bigger cut of his pay just to deal with all the redirected booty calls. But they just ended up sharing a lot of the time anyway. They rarely shared meals and, in fact, their free time was often their own. But when it came to getting laid, especially with girls like you, they couldn't say no.

And later, with his extensive collection of weapons only growing, it only felt natural for him to tease his sweet love with them. When you went all wide eyed and gasped like that, grabbing at his thick and muscular wrist with a long, sharp blade pressed at your throat? His dick got fucking hard and he entered a whole new level of extreme kinks. Next up was his gun; a semi-automatic pistol that he'd use on his targets, then bring home and use to lift up your skirt. Again, it was your beautiful, fearful reaction that made him do it... he couldn't help but slide it between your legs and fuck you with it.

However, something that got his stomach churning in the worst way possible... was your bright idea to peg him. I mean, he said he was up for anything, and he has played around with anal stimulation. Sure, it was fun, but having his sweet girl strap a cock to her body and fuck him with it? It sent a shiver down his spine. He'd still fucking try it though.

Kento

His limit is tough to define. It's the moment that you ask him to do it harder and he does- it's when you tell him to get rough with you and he watches you struggle under him. It's more like an underlying discomfort than a limit. But because he is a patient and mature man, he will talk to you about it and you are given yet another opportunity to fall more in love with him.

The issue is more complex than 'i don't want to hurt you' - because he loves spanking you, he loves tweaking your pretty nipples till they're all sensitive and swollen, and he adores getting his hands on your body; grabbing you, squeezing you. And realistically, he wants to make you happy... he wants to make you feel good. But there's just something so deep in his psyche that tells him 'Kento, you could lose yourself' and he's petrified that one day he's going to take it too far.

For this reason, after your lengthy discussions on the subject, you have agreed that your husband will keep up the rough play as long as he feels comfortable, and that he is not going to engage in breath play anymore. He said his piece, set the boundary and, although you love his big hands around your throat, you understand why it scares him and you respect him wholeheartedly. You finish off this deep conversation with an even deeper love making session- this time keeping it slow and sensual.

Satoru

Consent. Consent and blood.

This man does not need any more blood on his hands. So, unless you're begging him to impregnate you, he may be quite averse to period sex.

He will play around with consent- but like any loving and respectful partner he will need a play by play of what you want him to do to you. He needs to know exactly what's off the cards... and what's on. Especially with his powers thrown into the mix- although he has them fine tuned, it still adds an extra element of danger (which you seem to like very much).

So he will play along with your sick little games of hide and seek that end with him teleporting right behind you and covering your mouth with his hand, with your excited giggles soon turning into screams. He honestly never knew playing with this boundary was so attractive, but when you look up at him with glossy, wet eyes telling him 'Satoru 's too much' or 'n-no I can't take it, wait, please-' it gets his dick so fucking hard it almost hurts. But none of that would be possible without your safe word- or sign if you're gagged (which is rare because he loves hearing your pretty voice even if all you can get out are soft whimpers of how big he feels inside you and that you want him to cum). He's used it a couple of times, and so have you.

But you're learning your limits and coming to understand each other very well, so much so that your use of the word is dwindling because he knows when something is actually too much and when you're just saying it. From the little movements in your body, those microexpressions; he sees every detail. He can feel it all.

And now he's started to enjoy this, you wanted to take it a step further. You were desperate to have him fuck you in your sleep. After you expressly asked him to wake you up with oral one time, he really wanted to try it. And it was so fucking hot he asked you to do the same for him- it's not like he never thought about it before. Waking up to a good dick sucking is any man's dream. But that you'd want to do it? God, he feels so lucky when he wakes up with his cock in your mouth. And the final step, when you fell asleep naked from your previous night's escapades after begging him to do it all again in the morning, he finally got his dick inside you. You were sleeping on your side, facing away from him, and he just edged up and started slowly fucking you open. It took much longer than usual and added to his arousal- he was trying to be patient so as not to wake you. And it worked. When he finally stuffed you full and started moving you woke up and the first noise you made was the most sensual fucking horny moan he's ever heard and he gets addicted.

But if there's ever any feeling in his gut that you're not enjoying what he's doing to you and that you actually want to stop... he will. Even if it's just a doubtful nag in the back of his head- a couple of times he has completely edged you because of the thought. But with your enthusiastic consent (impatient begging) he continues to get you off in whichever way you want.

Suguru

Now your lovely boyfriend Suguru is a real sweetheart. You can tell he'd do absolutely anything for you. Of course, he won't be taken advantage of, he's a smart man. But in the bedroom, if it's for your pleasure, he's in. And that includes your fantasies of having him collared and strapped up to the bed. He'll let you blindfold him, gag him, he likes it when you choke him- especially when he's about to cum, it makes the experience all the more dizzying. He's very open to anal play- he loves it when you use toys on him, vibrators, dildos, love eggs... even in public. But he is not your submissive and he likes to remind you of that, especially with the strength he holds in that muscular body of his. He loves restraining you and overpowering you, especially when you're getting a little too cocky and comfortable on top. He likes to slap your pussy as much as your face and he will spit on your tongue if you beg him for it. He loves being mean and crude to his girl, then suddenly switching to be the softest gentleman you've ever met.

However, with your fantasies getting a little out of control- with buying him a new collar, a lead, the cutest outfits to wear (his slight embarrassment added another level for you)- he became uncomfortable with one certain request. And yes, he'll admit he's been playing along- it's been very enjoyable and stimulating for him- the pleasure has been overwhelming at times. But with your new toy... a certain butt plug with a black fluffy tail attached... he wrinkles up his nose and turns you down. You took it too far. But, the idea comes to him that if you like it so much, why don't you use it? And soon enough he's got you on your knees licking cream off his boots with a collar round your neck and a tail up your ass. You didn't know it vibrated.

hcs | m.list

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #female reader #18+ content #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #kento nanami #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo #satoru gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo smut #suguru geto #geto suguru #suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #tw: knife #tw: gun #tw: cnc #tw: somnophilia #tw: sex

[the-modern-typewriter]

Can you PLEASEEE write a Hero x Villain only one bed trope! Love ya

"Did you know that single people, on holiday, often pay more than couples because all of the hotel industry is built around the assumption of shared rooms and beds?"

The villain turned their attention from the double bed, the only bed in the room, and back to the hero. They blinked. Once, slow, deliberate.

The hero's met their gaze. "Down with amatonormativity?"

"You're sleeping on the floor."

"Oh, come on. It's not my fault! This is the only room they had."

"You're a hero. Be heroic and heroically take the floor."

"I'm not sure my being a good person extends that far," the hero said, eyeing said floor. "There's not even any carpet."

"Well, we can't share!"

"Only child, huh?"

"Don't fish for information about me."

The hero's lip twitched with a maddening and entirely too endearing amusement. "If you're worried about me attacking you in your sleep, I don't think my being on the floor is going to save you."

"I don't think - it's not that -" The villain felt colour rise up their face. They folded their arms. "It's not weird that I don't want to share a bed with you."

The hero's head tilted, studying them for a long moment, before they shrugged. "Fine. Bed's yours. I'll grab the chair."

The villain eyed the chair. It only looked fractionally more comfortable than the floor; less hard, but also significantly more cramped given the hero was hardly small.

"So, what," they demanded. "You'd be just fine sharing with me?"

"It's just a bed," the hero said. "I'm going to be unconscious, all things going well."

"What if we accidentally end up touching each other?"

"I already said you could have the bed."

"Well, now I feel bad!" the villain snapped. "I'm taking the chair. I don't need more reasons to encourage your sanctimonious attitude!"

With that, they strode into the small shared bathroom to change and firmly locked the door.

When they returned, the hero had already fetched a spare blanket from the cupboard. It was large-enough, if a little worn. They'd squished themselves onto the chair.

"I said I'm taking the chair," the villain said. "My god. Do you have to win at everything?"

"I know I got us into this mess."

The villain stopped short, not expecting the quiet words.

"I can take the chair," the hero said. "Not being sanctimonious. It's really just fine, okay? I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable or whatever."

The hero looked up at them, with an expression that the villain couldn't quite read. Whatever it was seemed earnest.

The villain swallowed.

They got into the bed, on the side furthest from the hero and the chair. They switched the lights off. They heard the hero shift and shuffle, trying to get comfortable. The villain could see the beautiful curve of their face illuminated in a small shaft of moonlight, the hunch of their shoulders, when they glanced over.

The villain glared at the dark ceiling for several long minutes.

"...Just get in the bed."

"What?"

"Get in. We can share."

"Are you sure?"

"Don't make me say it again. You look ridiculous. Like a lion trying to fit into a shoebox."

"If it fits, it sits."

"Well, you obviously don't fit!"

A brief silence passed, before the villain heard the hero move and felt the mattress dip. The hero kept to the far side of the bed, oh so respectfully, but the villain could still feel every inch of space between them. They folded their arms across their chest.

"Would it help to tell me what you're worried is going to happen?" the hero asked.

"No."

"Okay."

Another brief silence passed. "Is the thought of accidentally touching me really that hideous to you?" the hero asked.

Their voice was different in the darkness. Softer, somehow.

"Is the thought of accidentally touching me really that hideous to you?!"

"No?" the hero sounded bewildered. "I never said it was?"

The villain ground their teeth, even as their stomach gave a stupid little flip. "Just shut up and go to sleep."

"Goodnight."

The villain couldn't remember the last time anyone had ever wished them that. It caught them unexpectedly, in the gut and the throat. Winded. Fatal wound.

They glanced over at the hero again. They had their eyes closed, seeming perfectly at ease now that they were no longer scrunched up.

No. It wouldn't be hideous to touch them, not at all. It wouldn't be ghastly at all to roll across the expanse of mattress and wrap their arms around the hero's stupidly broad body, to nestle their face against the hero's shoulder, to hold the solidness of them.

Accident-smachident. The villain hated everything.

The hero fell asleep within ten minutes. The villain listened to the steady metronome of their breath, aching. Three hours later, the hero made a soft sleepy little sound and rolled, nuzzling their head against the villain's chest. A tangle of limbs.

The villain snagged their phone off the side table and held it up to take a selfie, making sure to look as unimpressed as possible. Just in case. For the morning. So the hero would know they didn't start it.

Then, and only then, did they finally melt and fall into the sweetest sleep they'd had in a long time.

Bonus:

#heroes and villains #hero x villain #villain x hero #villains and heroes #writing #short story #only one bed #tropes #enemies to lovers #writeblr

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 23 || The Party Era

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language,  fluff, violence, drugs, & slight mention of alcohol consumption.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.8k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——AFTER THAT INTIMATE morning, you and Gojo consider yourselves to be on decent enough terms. Of course, you still hate him-- or, at least you think you do, and he slowly begins to change in a good way.

When he talks to you, which is more often than before since you're no longer trying to ignore his existence unless necessary, his tone is always soft and filled to the brim with affection. You try not to bring up the fact that he claimed to be in love with you but it was extremely difficult not to think about it.

Blackmail or not, you can't just ignore his confession.

Shoko mentioned that he was in love with you before but you didn't want to believe her so, now that he's told you, you genuinely don't know how to feel.

His words echo in your brain constantly, so much so that it grows annoying. It's like you can't unhear it-- Gojo really said he was in love with you. It wasn't a dream, wasn't something someone else told you he said, and it wasn't a lie, Gojo Satoru confessed his love to you.

You hate it though.

You despise the fact that he loves you. To you, it's almost entitled for him to feel like he has that right. How dare he hold such a strong emotion for you? If he felt this way, why is he forcing you to sleep with people for him? It makes no sense.

Why would someone claim to love you and put you through so much?

If he's been in love with you all this time, why start the list in the first place? Why couldn't he have just tried to win your heart from the beginning? Why the list? Why the blackmail? You don't understand him.

A sigh escapes you as you think about it. By this point in time, it's roughly been two weeks since that faithful morning and you can't stop thinking about it. You have so many questions, wondering to yourself when it'll all make sense.

Then, there's also the longing you feel in your chest to see Choso again.

Of course, you haven't stopped thinking about him. You can't wait for the list to be over. The fact that there are only two people left makes it feel like a lot less pressure on you.

From here on out, you just want everything to go smoothly-- that's all you ask for.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

In the two weeks you spent at peace with Gojo, you and him have talked about who your next target should be; Sukuna or Nanami?

He tried to explain that Sukuna would be easier than Nanami but you quickly told him that you're not sure you trust his difficulty levels when no one you've seduced has been that hard. Well, with the exception of Mr. Fushiguro, seducing him took weeks of you pretending you had some kind of assignment to complete.

But even so, you still managed to pull that off. If anything, you felt a little more confident in yourself about seducing the last two people, thinking it'd be a nice walk in the park from here on out.

With this newfound confidence in yourself, you tried telling Gojo that it didn't matter which order you seduced the last two in. "Almost every difficulty level you've given me so far has been wrong, y'know..." You told him over the phone.

Though you couldn't see it, his lips pulled into a pout, "That's not true, sweets... Suguru was medium, no?"

"No, Satoru, he was easy..." You hum, "The only reason he'd be considered anything close to medium is because I had to get used to his uhm... teasing."

Gojo smiles foolishly at the way you say his name, his heart swelling in his chest over such a simple conversation with you, "Yeah, yeah, whatever." He hums, "Anyway, it's still up to you who you wanna go for first, I was just sayin' Sukuna will be easier."

You sigh, "How so?"

"Well for starters, he's having a party this Thursday so like..." Gojo shrugs sheepishly on the other side of the phone, "If you're free, you could come there with me and meet him."

"Uhuh... And what about Nanami?" You question as you jot things down in your journal, your body comfortably laid out across your bed.

"Hmmmm..." Gojo hums dramatically in thought, "I think there's a bar he goes to every weekend?"

"You think?" Your eyes narrow, "I need you to be sure."

"I'm like ninety-nine point nine percent sure." He says, "He goes on Friday nights so, y'know..."

"Are you suggesting that I formally meet Sukuna and Nanami, then decide who I want to sleep with first?" You ask for clarification.

"Pretty much, yeah."

You look around your room for a second in thought before shrugging, "Alright, sounds like a plan."

Gojo smiles, "Really? So... you do realize this means you'll be going to a party with me, right?"

"Okay?"

Curiosity sparks within him, "Do you even like parties?"

"Eh, I haven't had enough friends to want to go recently. But, I used to go to them a lot during Freshman year." You explain casually, earning a hum from him.

"Aww, and you didn't invite meee?" Gojo whines.

"I didn't know you, Satoru..." You sigh, finding yourself smiling ever so slightly at his silliness, "We literally met this semester."

"Sure about that?" He asks as if you don't recall talking to him for the first time early that August.

"Uhm, yes?" You arch a brow, "What, do you remember us talking before this year or something?"

"Nah." He hums, "But I do remember seeing you around a lot."

You begin to close your journal, "Really?"

"Mhm."

"And you never said hi?" You tease, mocking his earlier joke to you.

Gojo chuckles nervously, "I was too shy."

"Oh please." Your eyes roll, "You? Shy? Yeah right." A scoff leaves your lips in reaction to his claims.

"I'm serious." He emphasizes.

"Whatever..." You decide to brush off the topic. The phone call has lasted long enough so, you try to end it, "Anywho, we have a plan all worked out so text me the details for this party and I'll see you then."

"Aww," Gojo pouts again, "You're hanging up so soon?"

"Yes."

"C'mon, I wanted to talk some more..."

You scoff and your voice is sarcastic as you respond, "Skill issue."

Gojo bursts out laughing, "Seriously?"

"Suck it up pretty boy," You joke further, "We'll talk later."

He smiles from ear to ear, "Oh? You think I'm pretty?"

"Bye Satoru." You say flatly.

He sighs heavily and gives up, "Bye sweetheart." There's then a second of silence as you move the phone away from your ear but his next words make you freeze, "I love you."

Your heart pulses strongly, "...If you're expecting me to say it back, you're going to be disappointed."

He chuckles lightly, "I don't expect you to say it back, jus' want to make sure you don't forget."

You couldn't possibly forget that. "Right, okay, bye." The phone is quickly removed from your ear to end the call and then you toss the device across the bed.

Your heart is beating so rapidly for some reason. You do not feel the same way for him but that doesn't change the fact that hearing those words from someone makes you feel all tingly inside.

After only a second or two of gushing at his words, you return to your usual neutral mindset and pick your journal up. Your body slides off the bed and you walk to the drawer you keep it in, making sure to lock it as you place the item inside. Then, you sigh and head back to your bed.

Flopping down face first, you groan into your pillow-- wondering how the rest of this will play out. It feels weird to be on speaking terms with Gojo again. You can't exactly say you missed it but you also couldn't say you didn't enjoy it, even though the conversation wasn't long.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

With that, the rest of the week leading up to Thursday went by in a blur like always. Your schoolwork hardly ever overwhelmed you since you had that very well organized and for once, life somewhat felt like it was entering an era of peace again.

However, deep down inside you still missed Choso.

Not talking to him daily or hardly ever anymore really made you remember how boring your free time was. Perhaps that's why Thursday came so fast...

You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, your hands tracing over the silhouette this expensive dark red dress provided for you-- the item being something Gojo bought for you the very second you told him you weren't sure what to wear.

For someone who so easily deposited money into your account every time you slept with someone and bought you things the very second you made even the slightest complaint, you wondered what the hell he was in debt for.

Perhaps all of the people on the list truly couldn't be paid with money? Even so, you can't help but question what the hell he did to these men to the point where payment in the form of sexual satisfaction was established.

Toji is the only person on the list that you know the backstory for but, even then you still don't know how sexual satisfaction was agreed as a method of payment. And to add to those questions, does Gojo tell the men after you sleep with them that you were his form of payment?

If so... wouldn't that technically mean Choso should know about that?

You groan slightly as you get confused just thinking about it. It's like you're missing so much information here. The entire thing is steadily starting to make less and less sense as you go on. Not to mention the fact that he said he deleted the video of you a long time ago.

Does that mean he considered letting you go from the list? How long has he had the video erased from his phone?

You finally shake out of your thoughts when the man in question sends you a text, the chime from your cell prompting you to turn your head to the idle device on your bathroom counter. You pick it up to see a simple text that reads; 'I'm downstairs, sweetheart'.

You simply leave the man on read before making sure you have everything and heading out of your bathroom. Once you make it out of your bedroom, you spot Shoko typing away on her laptop in the living room.

The sound of you closing your room door makes her turn her head back to look at you. She gives you a wolf whistle and flashes that pretty smile of hers at you, "Heyyy beautiful." She greets teasingly.

You smile, "Hey roomie, how do I look?"

"For a party hosted by Sukuna, I'd say pretty damn good." It's no surprise that she knows who's hosting the party you're going to, Shoko always seems to be up to date with those kinda things.

A chuckle leaves your lips while you make your way to the front door, "Thank you but, I'm surprised you're not coming."

She shrugs, "I have like four assignments due tonight and my professor is a complete bitch about turning things in late." A little frown pulls at her lips, "Any other day, I'd totally go with you though."

"Maybe next time," You suggest, smiling at her, "Oh, and, I know this is a weird question but like, do you know his full name?"

"Who, Sukuna?" Shoko asks, raising a brow.

"Yeah." You nod. The memory of Choso hardly ever speaking about the guy he's supposedly related to runs through your head and you find it odd since he always seems so family-orientated.

"Itadori Sukuna, last time I checked." Shoko informs you, "But if you call him by his last name he'll be a dickhead about it. I think he hates it 'cause that's what connects him to his younger brother or something."

You blink. That somewhat explains a few things, "Damn, you sure know a lot..."

Shoko winks, "Benefits of going to parties to be nosy, you should do it more often."

With a laugh, you nod your head, "Well, thanks for that."

She flashes you one last smile and then raises her hand to wave you bye as you open the door and exit the apartment.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

When you get downstairs and to Gojo's car and quickly seat yourself in the passenger seat, his eyes are all over your appearance like he's starstruck.

A handsome smile spreads across his face, "You're absolutely breathtaking, y'know that?" Gojo complements.

You roll your eyes and begin putting your seatbelt on, "Seeing as you're able to speak perfectly fine, it doesn't sound like I'm all that breath-taking." You fire in response.

He chuckles and his bright blue eyes slip up and down your body, "You didn't hear the way I choked when I saw you walking toward the car."

"Aw, did you?" You respond mockingly.

"Mhm..." He hums lowly, suddenly focusing more on your face. His head is resting on the palm of his hand as he leans against the console in between the two of you.

You swallow and then just barely turn your face to him, "Plan on staring at me all night?"

"If I had the option to, I definitely would," Gojo says honestly.

You roll your eyes at him again and scoff.

"I'm serious." He utters, "If I got a dollar for every time your face has made my brain turn to mush, I'd be a fuckin' trillionaire."

With a sigh, you nod your chin toward the steering wheel in front of him, "Drive your car, Satoru. We don't have all night."

Gojo's eyes soften for a second as he actually loses himself in staring at you, "...You heal me," He suddenly says.

"What?" Your brows furrow and your face twists up while you meet his gaze.

He looks into your eyes for a second longer before turning his head to face forward, "I'm a broken man, sweetheart." Gojo explains as he moves his large veiny hands to the wheel in front of him, "And you... you heal me little by little every day."

You're unsure what to make of his poetic claims. Is this another type of confession? What does he mean he's broken? How do you heal him? What the hell is going on inside that brain of his??

Gojo glances over at you one more time, moving his hand to poke the center of your forehead, "Don't think on it too much, you'll get a headache trying to decipher my nonsense, sweets." He says in a soft tone.

You find it weird he even refers to his own claims as nonsense when it's far from such a thing. The things he starting to say to you are becoming more and more complex, hidden meaning behind his words and secret bittersweet implications slipped in between his claims.

You gently move his finger away from your head and nod, "Whatever... just drive already."

Gojo smiles, "Yes ma'am."

With that, he returns his hand to the wheel and does exactly as you've told him to, quickly driving to the destination of the party.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

There, you could hear lively music blaring from outside this large mansion. The place wasn't too far from where your campus is and you wondered how you went so long without ever being aware of its existence.

As stated before, you used to be quite the partier and most venues have been blessed with your presence. Yet, there you were, getting out of the car with Gojo and heading inside a house you'd surprisingly never been inside before.

Outside of the large estate, you spotted all kinds of people doing all kinds of things. It was expected and all but it had been such a long time since you've seen people having this much fun.

For starters, Choso isn't a partier. Why do you think about that now? Well, you asked him about it but he told you the chances of anyone catching him at a party are zero to none. He much rather be at home engrossed in his artwork.

There's another instance where you're wondering how different of a person Sukuna is in comparison to Choso. Especially when this big ass party is being hosted by him.

Gojo suddenly swings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you close to him while the two of you walk down the main path toward the entrance. The big double doors to the house are wide open, partygoers are scattered absolutely everywhere, and a large chunk of people are spotted inside.

Your gaze shoots over to the man all too close to you, "Satoru..."

"Sweetheart..." He replies.

"Why is your arm around me?" You question flatly.

He chuckles, a big smile painted across his overly handsome face, "I don't want you to get lost."

You blink, glancing away from Gojo and spotting people dancing, laughing, drinking, and even fucking in some places. Scrunching your face up at that last thing you spot, you continue to question Gojo, "What if Sukuna sees us like this?"

"He won't." He hums in response.

"How do you know?"

"Well... around a time like now, that asshole is probably somewhere in the middle of the party," Gojo explains.

The way he refers to Sukuna as an asshole has you worried. Are you going to have to deal with another Naoya?

Swallowing down a large gulp of nerves, you bat your eyelashes at Gojo, "Asshole...?"

He tenses up beside you for some unknown reason, "Uh... I mean, yeah." He shrugs, "Sukuna isn't the nicest guy in the world, everyone knows that."

"I didn't." You respond dryly, then you raise a brow in question, "He's not gonna be like Naoya though... right?"

Gojo looks down at you, finding your worried pout cute, and flashing a comforting smile at you, "No sweetheart, Sukuna's an asshole but..." His expression flickers and his smile fades away. He swallows and then clears his throat, "I'm pretty sure he'll satisfy you just fine."

The two of you finally enter the house and Gojo looks around, greeting some people he knows with a nod of his head while the two of you conversate.

You narrow your eyes at him, "Are you sure?"

Music is heard blaring further on in the party but you two haven't gone deep enough inside to not be able to hear each other yet.

"Fuckin' positive," Gojo suddenly sounds pissed and you grow concerned. The arm around you gets a little tighter while he walks you through some crowds and you keep looking at the man confused.

There's a vein popping out along his jawline because of how hard he's gritting his teeth. You're confused about what pissed him off so suddenly, "What's wrong?"

He avoids looking at you, "Nothing sweets, just know he'll take greeeat care of you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You murmur. The softness of your voice alone helps Gojo to somewhat come back to his senses.

"Sukuna..." Gojo pauses, thinking hard about something before shaking the thought away, "He uh... How do I say this... He'll," The man looks down at you again, "He'll be nice to you."

"...Will he?"

"Yeah, you're cute." Gojo compliments, shrugging all his thoughts off, "He likes cute girls."

"There's plenty of cute girls at this party," You point out, "What makes me so special?"

"Everything."

You scoff, "What-"

"This is about to be your eleventh question since we've been here." Gojo cuts off before giving you a comforting little smile, "Relax, everything will be fine, okay? Trust me."

Your lips purse together as you decide to drop all your questions for now.

Both of you continue walking deeper and deeper into the party, the volume of the music soon engulfing almost all of your senses. People were dancing all over the place, you saw a few drinking games taking place, some people were gathered together smoking, and it was all so lively.

While you walked with Gojo, you couldn't help but notice the way girls gawked at the man beside you, their eyes all over his face, and jealousy noticed in their expressions after they spotted you beside him. What made the whole thing better was the fact that Gojo didn't even glance at them.

The only woman whose eyes he ever looks into is yours. The only person's body he's drooling over is yours. Hell, the only person at this party Gojo even cared about was you.

At some point, he stopped to talk to some people he knew and you just stood quietly by his side. Gojo would give the people he spoke to this murderous glare if they even so much as peeked at you.

You wondered if you imagined the looks he gave some guys up until one was caught staring at your cleavage by Gojo. The man beside you tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, "Fuck are you starin' at?" He spat out.

You were oblivious to what was going on at first until you saw who he was talking to; some weirdo leaning against a wall gawking at woman after woman. When he noticed Gojo was talking to him you watched how he immediately teared his eyes off you.

Gojo then dragged you along, making his way toward a dance floor. You looked up at him, "You look like you're gonna stab someone...." You said playfully, mocking him for the wicked look in his eyes.

He smiles and that look completely disappears, almost as if it were never there, to begin with. Meeting your gaze, Gojo pouts, "Who, me?"

"Yes you, don't try to act all innocent."

He snickers, "Stabing isn't the way I'd go about hurting someone but, alright."

"People stare at me all the time, y'know... You can't keep glaring like that." You say, looking away from him, "Especially when I'm not even your girlfriend or anything."

"So?" Gojo scoffs, "I don't like seeing people look at you like that and I couldn't care less if you aren't my girlfriend," He suddenly leans down to you and his eyes go dark again, "You're by my side, in my arms..." He explains lowly, "And even if it's not reciprocated, you're my love."

You stare, seeing the same look he had in his eyes that day he caught you, the same look he gave you when he said he wanted you. Gulping, you try to respond, "Satoru-,"

"I'm serious. They can look at any other chick in this party, just not you. Especially not when you're with me." Gojo claims.

"That's a bit possessive don't you think?" You point out, halfway joking.

"Oh, trust me," He smiles as if it's no big deal, "I'm aware."

You open your mouth to say something but he suddenly leans up and takes his arm off you, "Anyways, I'm pretty sure you'll find Sukuna somewhere in all that," He instructs, nodding toward the group of people dancing and shouting on the main floor. He starts backing away from you, "Text me if you don't though."

"You're leaving me?" You say dumbfoundedly.

"Well, Sukuna can't spot us together..."

"Right." Your lips purse together and you nod, the two of you finally splitting for the first time that night.

The music is so loud that you can feel the vibrations from the base of your toes as you walk into the crowd. You steadily begin to dance by yourself for a moment and at one point you get a drink to help you loosen up.

You didn't plan to overdo it or anything because the last thing you wanted was to be horny and drunk all over again but, you did get enough to give you a little buzz. The smell of weed was strong throughout the dancefloor and you would've partaken in that too but you definitely don't trust drugs from just anyone.

As your body sways with the music, you end up dancing back into some guy on accident but when you try to move, hands go to your waist and your hips, immediately making you uncomfortable. You tried not to make a scene about this random man touching you, casually trying to dance away from him.

Your body language made it so painfully obvious that you didn't want this guy touching on you and you eventually turned your head back to him, noticing that it was the same person Gojo snapped at earlier.

That realization caused goosebumps to form all over your skin and you tried telling the man to back off you. He definitely heard you but clearly ignored you, going as far as groping your ass and creepily smiling at you.

You grit your teeth and elbow the weirdo back away from you, creating only a bit of distance between you and him since there are so many people around. The creep still misses the hint and tries to come close to you again.

In the blink of your eye, one second he was trying to come to touch you again and the next you saw a fist make contact with his jaw, a crack heard even through the music as his body stumbled to the side and then made contact with the floor.

Your eyes went wide at the sight and some people around you cheered. Was getting punched in the jaw like this some kind of regular occurrence? Why were people cheering and laughing so suddenly?

The guy was out cold on the floor, people dancing around his still body as you stood in shock.

The person who punched the fuck out of him was standing where he once was and you turned around to face the guy.

Your heart probably skipped fourteen beats at the sight in front of you. Towering over your smaller frame, smiling maliciously at the motionless body on the ground, with dark yet attractive tattoos decorating his handsome face, bright pink hair, and harsh maroon eyes, Sukuna stood proudly before you.

You batted your eyes at the man, in complete awe of everything about him. The shirt he wore was sleeveless, revealing even more tattoos that went along his large shoulder, his bicep, and his wrist.

With a snarky laugh, you watch as he then disrespectfully spits on the knocked-out man's body, "Disgusting." Sukuna hummed.

Those sharp and surprisingly scary eyes of his snap over to you, the only person shocked by what just happened. The smile that was once spread across his face drops completely when he looks at you. You can feel every hair on your head stand up as you meet his gaze, your spine goes rigid and you think you start sweating.

Sukuna turns to face you and takes a simple step toward your nervous body, tipping his torso down and toward you so that he can be at eye level with you. You think you stop breathing entirely.

Why the fuck is he so intimidating? Why did he stop smiling? Why does he look like he's about to punch you next? Your heart is pounding against your ribcage and you don't think any man has ever made you this utterly nervous from just a glance before.

His rose-tinted lips part and his voice is so low and deep you could feel your body getting tense, "This is the part where you say thank you."

You blink, "Th-Thanks." You hated yourself for stuttering.

He tutts, "Nono, not 'thanks', thank you, brat."  Sukuna corrects.

"Thank you," You say, your voice small.

He smiles at you, the sight making your heart race. A sexy and slightly raspy chuckle leaves the male, "Thaaat's more like it, good girl."

A strong throb of arousal thrums in your core at the sound of his words. It's embarrassing how such a simple phrase has you turned on already.

It was at that very moment you realized that this man was going to be different than the rest. Not Choso level different and not in any romantic sense but, the small conversation and his aura made one thing very clear.

Sukuna was in a league of his own. This man was a damn beast and you were both scared and excited to explore that.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???

NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

#the f*ck list #the fuck list #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #choso x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #sukuna x reader #naoya x reader #geto x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #nanami kento x reader #choso kamo x reader #kamiverse #kamiversee #smut fic #jjk smut #gojo smut #geto smut #choso smut #toji smut

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Rigor Mortis (part 4)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 3, Part 5

summary: You get your laptop fixed... eventually.

warnings: smut!! (finally lmfao) masturbation, mutual masturbation, tiny bit of voyeurism, recreational drug use, dry humping, etc 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: caught up to where the og oneshot ends so i wanted to switch it up!!

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 6.8k (still in shock i wrote all this lmfao, i'm strictly a <4k words kinda gal)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

lips black and blue and gold.

You're frustrated. Bouncing off the walls, head spinning; and it's for a couple of reasons. 

First off: you haven't managed to find a laptop. Money you've worked damn hard for, and you can't really afford a new one. With moving around, you've burnt through quite a bit of your emergency fund. Enough to convince yourself you'll be just fine with a pen and paper in class, and the Google docs on your phone when desperate. It might actually force you to go to the library instead of half assing assignments the night before, you think. 

And there's your lab book, which you were smart enough to back up on your computer, but guess what? That's fucked; probably taken apart and sold for scraps by Miguel's mysterious friend , who you've conveniently never even heard of and–

"Just ask for an extension." He says, feet up on the sofa. Oddly enough, you've been doing that more often; spending time together. He's not holed up in his room as much, and spends time studying on the dining table, or pretending not to watch the soaps you've got on TV. 

"You're overthinking it. Explain the situation, chula, and it'll be fine." He doesn't even look up, just throws the statement in your direction like the lazy pass of a ball. 

You scoff, because he's right, and go back to overthinking. You think you can copy out the ruined half of your labbook by hand, and if you beg your OChem teacher for an extra credit project then–

"If I let you use my laptop, will you stop doing that?" 

"Doing what?" You frown as he walks over, and reaches to gently pull your hands apart. He turns your palms over, pointing at the raw edges of your fingernails. 

" That. " Mindlessly, you'd been picking at your fingernails, without even noticing. Looking up at him, he rolls his eyes. 

"...is that a yes?" You nod, hesitant, and catch the hint of a smile as he pads off to his room. 

When he returns, open laptop in hand, he thrusts it into your arms - and sits himself back onto the sofa. This time, he splays out facing you, avocado socks resting on your knee. You fight the urge to push him off, a small price to pay in return for his moment of kindness. He's been doing that more often now, slightly more touchy and maybe even… comfortable around you. Eyes flickering up towards him, you catch his. His brows knead together, and you return your attention to the screen just as quickly. 

You're going through the motions, more or less, logging into your college's portal and drafting up quick emails to send to your lecturers. But it's when you open up a new tab, that you see something at the top of the screen and pause. Mouse hovering over an incognito tab, hidden in a nest of referencing websites and scientific journals; it's there. Bold letters, in all caps: WOMAN POUNDED BY BIG BEEFY–

You shouldn't. You really, really shouldn't. Once again, you look up at Miguel, and he couldn't care less; tapping away at his phone, only stopping to look at the TV. Nevertheless, you shift to hide the laptop screen from him. But you're not going to look, or anything. You know better than to take a look at your roommates porn habits, the stuff he drools over whilst he fucks his fist; a big, dextrous palm wrapped around his shaft. 

You've done it. Clicked on the tab and nothing's exploded, as of yet. You turn down the brightness, with some shame, as if to make the paused video less explicit. But the image stays, a woman folded under the weight of the man above – in the middle of bullying his fat cock into her pussy. It's amateur; hot and sweaty and sticky, with only the woman fully visible. You suppose your curiosity's been sated, but you can't help but think…

…the woman. She looks like you. 

Tilting your head, you can't help but see the resemblance. Not the exact same of course - but her hair is similar, body type, skin tone, eyes. It's not close enough to be weird, you guess, but it's enough that that thought stays - burrows into you like an earthworm into an apple. Scrolling down, you see other videos, with the same woman, other women that look like you - the telltale red bar of watched videos. Evidence, but not really, and it makes you heat up. Your mouth goes dry, and you look over to him: only able to concentrate on the hand he's got spread out at his belly, the brown flesh peeking out - and how it looks just like the one on the base of the woman's stomach in the video. 

"...everything ok?" He's looking at you, suddenly; and you attempt to click over to your original tab, discreetly. 

He doesn't seem to notice, padding over to your side and leaning into your shoulder. 

"Yeah, no, I just…" All you can manage is a nervous smile. "The screen froze, so…"

"Oh." He gives the track pad a swipe. "Seems fine to m–" 

He freezes up slightly, and you watch as his eyes flick up the screen. The laptop is eased out of your hands, and he gives a few quick clicks. By the time it's back in your lap, the offending tab is gone. Imperceptible, his jaw shifts. 

"...Should be okay now."

You hum, a little amused at the display. He's seemingly unfazed, his little slip up notwithstanding, and leans back to lie up against you. Obnoxious, he splays onto the sofa cushions, his weight practically smothering you as you fight to push him off. You think he likes it – it's the only possible explanation – and gets off from watching you squirm. He seems desperate for a reaction, a child pushing boundaries and pressing buttons to see what exactly makes you tick. 

And that's the second thing: it works . He's  more touchy, and just as insufferable – jumping at any excuse to be near you, it seems. Miguel has a tendency to hover, follow you around the apartment as you talk aimlessly, and you do the same. You sit by against the doorway to the kitchen whilst he makes dinner; he floats around the door to your room when you try to study. In fact, you've spoken to your roommate more in the past week than you have in the past month; about anything and everything. Sometimes, he actually tells you where he goes during the day; off to lectures of his own, another tutoring session or his basically-an-unpaid-job of an internship. In your words, it seems like with the shit they make him do at Alchemex, he may as well be a full employee: with way fewer perks and a distinct paycut. It's almost as if they're paying for my degree, he says with an eye roll, practically hanging off your door frame. 

He does that a lot, now: arms drawn upwards to lean from the oak trim. Especially during lazy mornings in - he'll hang on the frame, and move to tug at your heel, waking you up despite fervent protest. Ultimately, it's a kindness and you don't know how to tell him how much you appreciate it; as he wakes you up on time to get to the library in good stead. You're still waiting on that laptop, debating whether or not to bite the bullet; but for now Miguel obliges, letting you borrow his now and then. 

He's not nice, you think his tongue is much too sharp for that; but he is kind, giving you some grace you're not too sure you deserve. It's more than what you've been given in a relationship of 4 years, and you don't know how to feel about it. 

Well, you do. Your talk on the living room floor not so long ago flipped a switch and all of a sudden you're paying attention to your roommate; really, really looking at him. He is very, very pretty; with a tendency for lingering touches disguised as something else. And you're out of practice: horny, frustrated, stressed. With the way he touches you; a hand on your back to greet you, a squeeze of your shoulder to tease, bare legs across yours on the sofa; it's a lethal combo. 

And here you are, headphones on, prepping to take a dildo. Incredibly self-indulgent, but you need it . You don't quite have the emotional stability for a one night stand (you think if someone touches you just right, you'll fall in love), but this dry spell has taken its toll. 

It wasn't just after the break up, either. Mismatched libidos had felt like a steady death knoll. Realistically, you knew Jaime was always too tired after a placement, but it didn't make you feel wanted. You just want to be desirable and fucked within an inch of your life – was that too much to ask? 

As a result, your toy drawer had grown: vibrators and dildos, clit-suckers and g-spot strokers; crude once said aloud, but all in search of something. With the stress of school and Miguel, Schrodinger's slut ; it's a wonder you haven't cracked it open earlier. 

You're on the floor, its purple base suctioned to the hardwood and towels to cushion your knees. Lower half completely exposed, it's an art , porn on your phone to complete the visage. The screen is smaller than that of the laptop you're used to, only providing some stimulation. And so, as you sink down on its silicone length, you can't help but think back to the sofa - and the videos squirrelled away on an incognito tab. Miguel, hunched over and fisting his cock to someone that looks like you; maybe even thinking of you – although the jury's still out, on that one. 

But you keep it close to your chest, rub your clit to the thought of it: you're his type, and maybe he'd fuck into you like the man on your screen. Broad, gorgeous shoulders and you wonder how pretty he'd look with scratches littered down his back, or hickeys sucked into skin: lips plump and messy and swollen. 

"Oh, fuck," You say it under your breath, knowing that whilst Miguel is out of the house, it still feels odd to put your lips around the pleasure that thinking of him gives. 

You speed up, the slap of thighs ringing out into your bedroom. The dildo is around 6 inches, sizeable; but you can't help but wonder how it compares to Miguel's. He might even be bigger; thicker, most definitely; and you bet his cock is just as pretty as he is. Oh fuck, and he'd tease; press into your hole just to snatch it away at the last second, rubbing persistent circles at your clit. You hear his voice in your head, the low grunts and groans you've memorised from all those nights he's spent with other girls. 

"Miguel,"  You're moaning shamelessly now. "...f-fuck, please–" 

There must be something electric in the way he fucks: with the litany of girls in and out of his bedroom, what keeps them coming back? He must talk them through it, whispering filth with his plush lips against their ear, and you wonder what he'd say to you. God , you'd give anything to hear it him say, just once, how beautiful he thinks you are; for him to wrap his hand around your neck and pull you close. You want him to fuck you; hard and deep and desperate. 

With that, your pace quickens and you gush around the toy. A spasm of limbs, and you're clamping down on the silicone – an orgasm that leaves you breathless and heaving. You convince yourself it's the taboo of it: fucking yourself to the thought of your roommate, after listening to his grunts and groans for the past couple weeks. He started it … thin walls, and all that. 

You ignore the want that lays stubborn at the pit of your stomach, riding through stuttering spasms as your orgasm winds down. You're touch starved, that's all, and Miguel's the closest warm body to latch onto. Nothing more, nothing less. Groaning, you shift, picking up your hips to gear up for another round. Just once more, so you know for sure. 

Thin walls. The sound leaks into your roommate's bedroom. But with your headphones on, you can't hear the sounds that echo back: Miguel O'Hara, back home early, with an ear pressed to the wall and desperately pumping his cock. 

~~~

"I'm not completely convinced, to be honest." You're in Miguel's car, tongue sticking out as you fiddle around with the dials. 

His gaze flicks over, and bats your paws off the dashboard. Flopping into your seat, you watch as he turns up the AC and switches the radio, as if reading your mind. 

"You really think I'd go through all this trouble?" He scoffs. "Bundle your ass out of the house and drive all the way here to…. do what exactly?" 

"Assert dominance in our shared ecosystem." You say it with finality, and he scrunches up his face in confusion. 

"...what does that even mean?" 

"Like in that nature doc you were watching the other day." 

"Well, the point was that spiders aren't hierarchical in the traditional sense. They form colonies that are… quasi-social, if anything, and–" He pauses. "Wait. You were paying attention?" 

You shrug. "I thought it was interesting." 

"Seriously?" 

"...no, not really."

You laugh as he pulls over to park, in a space next to what looks like an apartment complex. It looks way nicer than your place, with sandy brick and hedges that look well kept. Your laughter peters off. Miguel looks decidedly not amused. 

He opens the car door and clambers out as you scramble for the seatbelt. To your surprise, he opens the door for you; stretching out a hand for stability as you get out. When you both walk over to the intercom, your palm burns with his touch, and flexes with the memory of it. It's becoming a problem, his hands. You push down the beginnings of a hazy daydream. He presses a panel, waiting for the buzz. 

"Lyla? Could you let us up?" 

He waves demurely to the camera, and the receiver clicks. A cheery voice rings back. 

"...Us? Who's us, Miggy? Did you finally find a girl that puts up with your shit?" Her voice is singsong, teasing. With a smile, you watch as Miguel bristles, speaking into the slick panel. 

"My roommate, Jesus, Ly–" He says the next bit a little rushed, turning away slightly as if you still can't hear her loud and clear. "I thought we went through this, you can't keep trying to embarassmeeverytimeI–" 

She talks over him towards the end, rapid-fire banter that you can barely make out. 

"You never come and visit, except when it's 2am and you need to break into–" 

"Once! It was one time! Déjate, ya está bueno ya–" 

[Let it go, that's enough now–] 

"Let it go? No, no, absolutely not… what is it that you always say? It's the principle –" 

"Can you just fucking open the–" 

"What's the magic word?" 

He sighs, mouthing an apology to you. "Lyla–" 

"Magic. Word."

He mumbles. "Please." 

"Please what?" 

"Please could you open the fucking door."

There's a pause, and rustling over the intercom. The door buzzes open. 

In the elevator up, you keep quiet, trying your hardest not to burst out laughing. Miguel is visibly brooding; arms crossed and brow furrowed. 

"Don't." He says, with a pout you almost think is cute. Almost. 

"I'm trying really, really hard not to." You put your hands up, as if to surrender. "... Miggy."

"Fuck off." And then, a little softer. 

"...I told you I have friends."

~~~

You leave it at that until you're in Lyla'a apartment, when she opens and ushers you in. She looks exactly the way she sounds: pretty, mousy features, with her hair in short, choppy layers. She's bundled up into a plush white robe; heart-shaped sunglasses sliding down the tip of her nose. 

Miguel breezes past her, towards the murmuring voices you can just about make out in the front room. 

"Lovely to see you too, Miguel." It's under her breath, but when she turns towards you there's a twinkle in her eye. 

You introduce yourself, and she pulls you into a tight hug. 

"I know," She says. It's ominous, but her voice is light and airy. When you separate, she flashes a wide smile. "Lyla. It's nice to put a face to a name."

"Uhh, sorry. What?" She ushers you further into her apartment as you speak, confused. 

"Oh, Miggy talks about you all the time. Complaining , mostly, but in that way he gets when he's trying really, really hard to pretend he doesn't care. Like, he texted me yesterday and–" 

"Thaaat's enough." You feel hands on your shoulders, and all of a sudden, Miguel is steering you away from her grip. You stumble into her living room, so bright and airy your eyes have to adjust to the light that floods in. Looking around, her apartment is gorgeous; a spacious open plan, floor-to-ceiling windows with a prime view, and lush furniture. Everything about it screams expensive – especially in comparison to your paltry place. Maybe the shock is visible on your face, but you're in awe. She can't be much older than Miguel, right? She looks about the same age, mid-twenties, not too far-removed from college… and it isn't quite adding up. 

"How can she afford this? That's what you're thinking." There's a voice on the sofa that makes you blink. A young man with messy brown hair, a set jaw and 5 o'clock shadow calls out to you in between mouthfuls of pizza. "Lyla's… mmhgh… suuper fuckin' rich… mmfgh… that's how." 

It's then that you notice there are other people here, sprawled out on the sofa set; boxes of takeout on the side tables next to them. Of course Lyla's rich: only 20-somethings with money to spare have matching sofas. 

She's like Beetlejuice, or the Candyman, and pops up next to you when her name's said. 

"I work in tech! With a cute little job on Wall Street, and a part-time one white hat hacking." She clarifies. " Ethical hacking." 

She giggles like she's told a joke somewhere, and you nod – still not quite understanding. 

"...and some side gigs that aren't as ethical." A blond haired man next to Mouthful-Of-Pizza pipes up. "When are you going to introduce us, Miguel?" 

He's grumbling in the kitchen area, digging through the shelves for something. He returns with a bag of chips and dip in a container, flopping onto the zebra print throw pillows. Distracted, he waves a hand around the group noncommittally. 

"Uhh, Peter, Ben, Lyla." He gestures to you, saying your name, and then to himself; tearing open the bag at the same time. "-and Miguel. All done"

"My turn for questions, now," Miguel says, pointing at Lyla, looking at the boys to his side. "Is she…?"

"...super high? Most definitely." Lyla giggles at Ben's words, for good measure. 

"...right. Peter Parker, nice to meet you." He throws a thumb to the back of the sofa, where you notice a little mop of red curls peeking out. "And this is my little Mayday."

Peals of laughter erupt from behind him, and you notice grubby hands with a death grip to the cushion rest. Miguel leaps up, rushing to her side to help her up its back. 

"Ayyy dios mio." He scoops her up carefully, "Buenas, Arañita." 

Mayday is on his lap now, a little toddler of about 1 or 2, snaking herself around to hug Miguel's chest. She is certifiably the cutest thing you've ever seen: gap-toothed and giggly, with a smatter of freckles like someone's flicked a paintbrush across her nose. And with the way Miguel melts, you can die happy, knowing that you've seen the impossible: Miguel O'Hara, cooing and fussing over the little girl. 

"Arañita?" You ask, to no one in particular. 

"Itsy-bitsy spider." . ..is the sing-song, choral response from everyone but Miguel. They're mimicking his tone of voice, and he raises his head from May, looking around. 

"I don't sound- " 

"You do, dude." Peter sighs, tickling the little red head on the tummy; smiling as she collapses into bright laughter. "I don't have a nickname, and I've known you waaay longer than she has."

Miguel covers her tiny little ears, and says, "Eres un pendejo, Parker . "

[you're a dipshit, Parker] 

The scraggly man sticks his tongue out in response, and May pulls at his hair for good measure. He yelps, and Miguel passes her over to her Dad. The scene is funny, for sure, but you feel it's warmth more than anything. God, you can tell they've loved and laughed with each other for years; the kind of friendship you'd kill to have. 

"We just need whatever's left of her laptop, Lyla," He's blunt, batting away long forgotten chips and dip. "...and then we'll get going. Wish I could stay longer, Arañita, but I've got some work to finish off."

May makes grabby hands at him, and you melt. Who knows how Miguel can stay strong in the face of her big, round eyes. 

He gets up to stand next to you, arms crossed. The height difference is stark: his tall, solid frame towering over everyone else. It seems like an intimidation tactic, but you know him just well enough to tell: he's trying not to be swayed by puppy eyes and promises of food. 

"You just got here, Miggy." Lyla sighs. "We're going over prep for Jess', and we'll be two minutes, I swear."

"Oh?" His eyebrows light up. "I knew it! You were being evasive on the group chat, and Pete wasn't returning my calls…"

Huffing, he clasps his hand around yours, ready to storm out. "This is an ambush. A goddamn setup!" 

"Wait, Miguel, I need my-" 

"I'll pick it up later for you, okay?" It's said like an aside, so soft only you can hear it. With his hand around yours, it certainly feels more intimate than it should. And it seems like he realises a little too late, dropping your hand as your faces are mere inches away. 

"Um, we should… we should go." 

You look past him to the faces blinking at you guys, on the sofa. A pause, and then you're gulping down stubborn feelings to ask a question. 

"Jess' ? Is there a party, or something?" 

Lyla nods. "Yeah, and Miguel's meant to be picking up cake."

The man in question pinches his nose. "I can pick up the cake just fine. It's the whole… going to a party bit I'm not too keen on."

"Come onnn, you know Jess would love it."

"She'd love to blackmail me with some dumb shit I did drunk, that's for sure."

"It's her birthday, hardass ." Peter whispers that last bit, covering little May's ears like before. "She can have a little blackmail, as a treat."

"You're gonna say no to a surprise party ?" Ben echoes, shaking his head dramatically. 

"A surprise birthday?" You light up. "Miguel, you have to go."

His stony demeanor cracks, for a moment. You latch onto it, hellbent on wearing him down. He's always got his laptop out doing work, or cracking open a little notebook to prep a lab. When he's not at home, he's at that internship, or tutoring, or planning a tutoring session. Work, work, work; and you'll be dammed if you let him rot away in a little cage of his own machinations. 

"Come on, Miggy." You watch him bristle, prying at that little crack in the surface. This has to be done with finesse: present a challenge, and watch him scramble to prove you wrong. "You're telling me a couple of hours at a party's too much for you? That's it? " 

"That's not–" 

"S'what it sounds like to me." You shrug, a little smile on your face. The aim is to look as smug as possible; and it seems to be working. 

His jaw shifts, annoyed. Lyla catches on, giving you a crazed smile. 

"Even your roommate's gonna come." She says, an arm linked in yours. 

"I am?" She gives you a little dig, and you're spluttering. "Y-Yeah, I am!" 

You can see him fight with his own ego; but it's a one-sided affair. 

"Fine. " He strains. "Two hours, max. And then I'm gone."

Lyla gives you a squeeze, and then wraps you both up in a hug he desperately tries to fight off. Ben slots around you guys, and Peter's last to join, with Mayday squealing on his shoulders. 

Eventually, you get what's left of your laptop: a little thumb drive with as much as Lyla could save. You'd thanked her profusely, of course; trying to slither out of her vice grip of a hug, as best you could. She's absolutely batshit, the good kind; cryptic, and strange, but with a lot of heart. She makes you wonder, and they all do; just how did they become friends with Miguel? How do they fit? 

The man himself seems a little different, as if reinvigorated by being around friends. In fact, you catch him smiling to himself on the drive home. It's sweet; to see a different side of him around people he's clearly comfortable with. If only for a little while, he sheds the heavy weight he seems to carry around. 

Around the house, you notice he seems lighter – humming to himself whilst cooking dinner. That very day, you watch the little sway of hips as he stirs a pot; headphones in, singing under his breath. He can't sing for shit, of course, and he'd kill you if you ever uttered a word; but it's a sight you commit to memory, not knowing when next he'll be in such a good mood. 

There's still the question of a new laptop in the air, but you feel more settled by the events of the day. You're a little less fucked school-wise, you've got a party to look forward to, and potentially a drunk Miguel to make fun of. He goes to bed early; and you can hear the quiet drone of a podcast from the other side of the wall. He drifts off to the sweet, dulcet tones of Top Ten Genetic Precursors for Early Onset Dementia; one of his favourites, you've determined. 

All is well, for now. A tentative truce, and maybe, just maybe: you're finally friends with your roommate. 

~~~

There's something about dramatic irony that seems to smack you across the face, every time. 

You've come to somewhat of a understanding with your prickly roommate, and the stream of women in his bed seem to slow down, for a bit. He's hot, he's a whore; but he's sweet, with an eye for detail. He can read you with a scary amount of accuracy. Antsy and hungry from a long day? He leaves you scratching your head at his clairvoyance when you come home, chucking you a hot water bottle and a warm meal. You go to bed with a full belly, cramps abated. 

He's still a prick, of course. Sarcastic comments, and a massive grump – but you've learnt to deal with that. Just a couple of days after a seemingly settled week; what you can't wrap your head around is the pounding music from next door, at fuck-off-o'clock . He shouldn't be awake, let alone interrupting your late night study session. 

You're pissed, leaping from your desk to pound at his door. You're thudding towards his room, ready to deliver a well-deserved verbal lashing, and the door just… swings open. Empty; there's a window ajar and music pumping from speakers. Bachata and cheesy 90s R&B; which sounds suspiciously like his sex playlist. 

Yes, he has a sex playlist. And it really has no business to sound as good as it does. 

Nevertheless, you're resolute. If he's managed to sneak someone, at this hour, you decide he's going to get more than a stern talking to. 

There's clattering in the kitchen, and you whip around; half-expecting the giggle of another girl. When you walk in, it's just Miguel, rummaging through cupboards: a half-naked thief in the night. 

"Miguel?" 

He pops his head up from a cabinet, with a half-eaten piece of bread in his mouth. Caught red-handed, you suppose; and he gives you a little smile. 

"S'everyfin' – mmmfggh –" He scarfs the rest of it down. "Everything okay?" 

You squint. "No. Not really."

He chuckles, a slight rasp at the edges of his voice. Dickhead – what exactly is so funny? 

"You can't have your music so fucking loud, not when I'm studying. It's the middle of the night and–" 

Dressed in nothing but a pair of gray sweats, he's busying himself with a sandwich on the counter; clattering around noisily like he doesn't have full control of his limbs. Which is…. weird, admittedly. You'd trust Miguel to slice a grape with a machete – his dexterity is usually unmatched. Not that you'd made a habit of staring at his hands, or anything. 

"Are you even listening to me?" 

He nods, attempting to keep a straight face, but the faux solemnity does nothing to hide that droop of eyelids and slump of his shoulders. You get closer, pushing him to face you properly. 

"Oh, fuck," His eyes are a little red, hair messy and windswept. "Are you… high? " 

Miguel O'Hara? High? You'd never thought you'd live to see the day, honestly. His eyes go wide, dropping his sandwich dramatically. And then he's got a big hand at your shoulder, pulling you closer with a finger pressed to his lips. 

"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering your name like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone."

With the way he says your name it makes you light-headed. It's slow and careful, as if he's testing the way it feels spilling from his lips. And maybe, with the way he smiles, it feels good; tastes sweet wrapped around his tongue. 

"I won't." You breathe, and then you're both giggling.

There's something about the way he looks at you, peering under heavy lashes; basically eye-fucking you in the space of your tiny kitchen. You feel bare in a little t-shirt and sleep shorts; suddenly exposed. 

"You should…" He starts, cocking his head ever so slightly. "Join me, chula. "

It's soft; sinful, even; said as he coaxes you between his body and the kitchen counter. 

You don't trust your voice enough to answer, legs already shaky, so you nod. Slight, at first; and then with a little more gusto as the idea of him and you on his sheets – intimate, alone – creeps in. He stretches out a hand, and you take it; led to his bedroom like a scene you've seen before. All those girls before you; led to the dragon's lair like damsels in a fairytale. Except in this one, you suppose, you're not waiting for a knight in shining armour to save you. 

He sits you down on the bed, passing you a freshly rolled blunt. Passing it to your lips , more specifically; hand on your chin as he brings the lighter up to its end. Even prettier up close, all you can do is watch the press of plump lips, and pink tongue sticking out as he concentrates. As he leans in, there's a hand on your bare thigh. You inhale, deeply, and he hums with content.

"Good girl," He purrs, prying it from your lips to take a slow drag. 

"You're a bad influence." You murmur, watching as his eyes flutter shut. 

"You need to relax," He leans back, arm drawn lazily upwards. "This is helping."

"That's not–" Oh. You feel it now, a steady haze rolling over limbs. 

Miguel quirks up an eyebrow, amused. 

You repeat, slowly, "You're a bad influence ."

"Does it feel good?" You pause, trying to ignore his low tone; and the steady blaze that it ignites within you. Dragging your eyes to meet his, you see it: want, lust, something heavy that swirls behind them. 

You nod, itching for another pull. As if psychic, he gestures for you to come closer; and your lips almost slot against his. He exhales, and you inhale; in the closest thing you've come to a kiss in months. It makes you ache for just a little more contact, for those pretty hands to slot between your thighs and–

"Is this all I need to do for some quiet around here?" He asks, lilting. If only he'd stop talking; interrupting your fantasy with that stupid grin of his. 

You're shaking your head, laughing at the sheer gall . 

"You're fucking someone new every week, O'Hara. Loud. Who was it the other day? Cathy, Kayla –" 

"Sita, actually." He has a strange expression on his face. "And we didn't fuck. Just going over lecture notes."

"Sorry . Must have gotten mixed up with the half-dozen other girls in and out of here. Our apartment's not a brothel , Miggy."

He rolls his eyes, handing you the remnants of the blunt. 

"...s'not my fault there isn't anyone fucking you right."

You scoff. "How would you know?" 

"Thin walls. " It's cryptic. What the fuck does that mean?

You take a careful drag, and hand the blunt back – trying your hardest not to strangle him. It must show on your face as you tussle with the thought, because Miguel is staring; unabashedly, unashamedly. When you notice, it throws you off. 

"... what?" Ready to defend yourself, you huff. 

He shrugs. His expression is soft, reminding you of that night, not long ago. 

"You look like a painting."

You practically short circuit. You've been complimented before, of course. Hot, by men trying to get into your pants. Pretty, sometimes. Beautiful, the other times. Whether it's been sincere, you don't know – but you're smart enough to not overthink it. It's hard enough to live a life, as it is; and you'd rather not be bogged down by what others think, how you look whilst doing it. And yet, you feel your body betray you; a steady bloom of heat at your heart, like you've been stabbed. So deep, it spreads like blood on the front of a blouse. Like a painting, he says. And you like the way he says it; how it sounds spilling from his lips. 

Its implication sits heavy. Like a painting : hand-crafted, silken, soft –

He blinks, the crack of a smile on his face. And it ends in a fit of giggling, if you can even call it that. 

"Stop fucking with me." You grumble, and he thinks the way your face scrunches up with disdain is cute. There's probably an implication there he should unpack in therapy – how he likes it when you shout and put him in his place – but he's much too high to care. 

"M'not-" He quiets down, flattens his face into something resembling sobriety and gravitas. He gets a little closer, so close you can feel the heat of his body and flutter of lashes. With wide, dilated pupils, he stills - and it really doesn't help that he looks so pretty. 

"Can't stop thinking about you, hermosa." His voice is low, slurred with the weight of the blunt he's taken careful drags of. Every word makes you feel hazy, drawn in by his lips. " Fuck, all the time."

"Hear your laugh in my dreams, sometimes." He circles your bare thigh carefully, without breaking eye contact. With a thumb on your chin, he brings you closer, and closer still. Gently, you close your eyes, expecting the press of his lips against yours… 

…instead, you get a puff of smoke for your troubles. Reeling, you push him away. He collapses on the bed in a laughing fit. 

"... now I'm fucking with you." Rumbling laughter, and you've got the wherewithal to be embarrassed – hand still resting on his bare chest. 

A little cruelly, you push down, giving him an elbow to the ribs for good measure and he splutters with surprise – laughing all the same. 

"Asshole." You slur, and he grabs your arm to pull you onto the covers with him. You paw at him wildly, wrestling amongst the table of sheets. It's not a fair fight, not really; the wide expanse of his bare chest feels solid, and he's probably got more muscle in his pinky toe than you do in your whole body. Miguel is strong , but plays along regardless, pinning you to the bed with his hands around your wrists - but lets you turn him over just as quick. You're both laughing, the blunt long forgotten but its haze blurring the lines. You straddle his middle, hips flush against his and he keens; head back and cheeks flushed.

"Fuck," It's quiet, said as he writhes below you and you try to pin his hands above his head. Maybe it's the weed, but he lets you: eyes low, breath steady. And you stay like that, for a moment; bodies laid against one another. 

You don't know who starts it: the slow roll of hips, the swell of his cock bucking up against your heat. Regardless, you welcome it, letting the heat build up with the pressure at your clit. Your hips sway and all Miguel can do is watch. 

Lips parted, head back; and you set a steady rhythm that washes over you both.

Humping against one another, you get more desperate and drag your hands to his chest for purchase. Underneath you, Miguel practically purrs – one hand on your waist and the other clutching yours at his chest. 

"So, so pretty…" He sighs into it, wide palm pawing at your ass, shamelessly grabbing handfuls. By now, he's rock hard; and you feel him throb through the thin material of his sweats. 

"Fuck, I can't–" You moan, ragged, the roll of your hips gaining speed. 

Miguel coos, bringing a hand to your chin to pull you closer to the crook of his neck. 

"Too fast, hermosa. S-Slow it down for me." He grips your waist, forcing the pace to slow. Your hips stutter against his, delicious pressure making you cry out. And, God, you're close; pleasure building up at your gut. 

"Ohhh, fuck. Just like that, just like–" It's soft, whispered between the press of bodies like a prayer: reverent, intimate, a slew of garbled English and Spanish into the shell of your ear that goes straight to your pussy. 

"A-Ahi, ahi–"

[t-there, there–] 

Plush lips brush against your cheek, and you try so hard to not float away - with only his words to keep you tethered.  

"... no pares lo que sea que estes haciendo–ohh-fuck–" 

[don't stop what you're doing, oh fuck–] 

The coil at the base of your stomach snaps, and you arch into his touch as he does the same. Miguel spills into his sweats, heaving with the effort. He can feel the clench of your pussy above, and he chases it in the aftermath; craning his neck to finally get a kiss. Limbs heavy, you still manage to swerve so his kisses land at your jaw. He's grateful for the contact anyway it comes and sucks careful hickies into the skin: at your neck, your collarbone, and anywhere else he can reach. 

You sink into it, curl up on his chest like a housecat; his hands wandering the gentle slope of your back under your shirt. 

Limbs heavy, you pry yourself from his hands ever so slightly. He strains to follow you up, snapping back into the sheets like an elastic band. Still, he kneads at your flesh - bare thighs spilling from your shorts. 

" Miguel," You whisper, hand travelling past his neck to cradle his jaw. "Need more…"

You punctuate that last word with a roll of your hips. Wanton, conflicted; he groans . 

"It's late, chula. " He says it slowly, hesitant – like he can't believe the words are coming out of his mouth. He's still high, lost in the whispy remnants of that blunt. You've never known weed to make someone more responsible, and you flop to his side, a little childishly. 

Miguel makes sure to keep a hand wrapped around your waist, dragging his other knuckles up your exposed tummy so that it rides up to the swell of your tits. 

"And you've got that 9am."

You cover your face with the span of your hands, grumbling. From between the gaps in your fingers, you repeat, 

" ...and I've got that 9am ."

He traces lazy circles in your flesh. Maybe it's the blunt, or the afterglow of an orgasm; but you make him laugh, a gentle ache replacing the creak and shudder of gears. 

"Idiot." He says, kissing it into your skin. And he burns from the touch, fleeting; like the warm flame from paper lanterns, or the flicker of a lighter against cool night air. 

_

_

_

Miguel taglist (1): @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns

@ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @aiyaaayei @hyp-oh-critical @tea-earl-grey-thot @sunset-euphoria @moonsio @akiras-key@szaplsdropthealbum@levanneisdumb @naiya-patel17 @Serostapesweat @strawberrymiguel @yumeeesss @errorundyne-exe @spear-bitch @redsoleily @marsissoswag @slezhara @ye4gerzz @adlct515 @nanam1 @indigocookie @cincocosas-blog @starguiders @path0logicalpeoplepleaser@funkyfishy@whoreloll@eugeab@tarjapearce@maddielikesmoths@egotaestical

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #kat_writes😼 #rigor mortis 😼 #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv x reader #atsv fic

[breadly-art]

I often see people saying that Miguel hates children. All I can say to such people is that their views are too shallow. And that's why they're wrong:

Let's think logically. Miguel, like the entire HQ, is sure that the violation of canon events will result in the destruction of the entire universe. He has reason to believe so - before his eyes, the whole world disappeared through his own fault. That's it, it's all gone. Of course, Miguel will be sure that it is not worth violating the canon. Moreover, he knows that the universes are connected, and if you lose too many of them, then the entire multiverse will collapse, this is logical. It's like a spider web - the more holes there are in it, the sooner it will break.

Miguel leads a squad that maintains the stability of the canon by dealing with anomalies. He must be sure that each of the spider-men will be reliable enough to prevent a violation of the canon event. He has no other option, he will not just forget about the minor mistakes of any spider-man from the HQ. Not because he's angry and strict, but because the safety of all universes depends on it, God damn it.

He's in charge for a reason. He knows what he is doing and why, he knows what a mistake will cost. "I don't always like what I have to do. But I know that I have to be the one to do it." He knows that the canon event often costs someone their life, he knows that some spider-man will feel bad about it, but are there any other options?... Yes, in the question "one person or the whole universe" he chooses the universe, but that doesn't make him an asshole. He's trying to save millions of lives in the only reliable way he knows how.

And now back to his "hatred of children." Miles. Yes, I can understand his desire to save his father, but it could destroy his universe. And yes, it is not a fact that it will be destroyed, but judging by what Miguel saw, the chance of the collapse of the universe is GREAT. And it's not just about Miles's universe, it's about all universes. A web with many holes breaks faster. If saving the universes costs Miles's father's life, if Miguel has to keep Miles at HQ by force to prevent him from making a mistake, he will do it. I don't think Miguel likes it. But he knows he has to be the one to do it.

Gwen. A lot of people didn't like the way he treated her, but listen - there were reasons for that. As I said, Miguel needs to be confident in every spider-Man at HQ, it's a matter of keeping the universes safe. And Gwen let Miles go, let go of someone whose actions could destroy everything. Miguel can't count on her the way he used to, not after she let Pavitr's canon break and didn't catch Miles. He sends her home not because he hate her, but because the HQ is not a place for those who think with their gut. Here you need to think with your head, only this can be 100% sure. You can't make mistakes. HQ must not allow the disruption of the canon. They must not allow the chance of death of millions of people. So Miguel wasn't mad at Gwen. He was disappointed in her - because she couldn't make a hard choice.

For the same reason, he doesn't take Peter B. on a mission. Peter didn't stop Miles when he had the chance, but unlike Gwen, he hasn't questioned Miguel's theory about the canons yet. Peter believes him, but is clearly not sure what to do next. That's why Miguel takes Jess and Ben with him, the ones he's 100% sure of.

Next... Gwen's father. No one, damn it, keeps their finger on the trigger when they don't really want to shoot. Do you think he wouldn't have shot his own daughter? Oh no, he would have done it. And Miguel understood that - that's why he intervened, even though he shouldn't have been there. After all, remember - a vulture could disrupt some kind of canon event. But which one? Facereveal Gwen in front of her father, perhaps? Nevertheless, Miguel intervened. After all, he knows what it's like to deal with an Irish father named George, who is ready to raise his hand against a child.

And then, even seeing Gwen's insecurity after everything that happened, he suggests that she "join the club", he knows what it's like to be all alone. And he clearly doesn't want that for Gwen.

Miguel is not a bad character. Not a villain. He doesn't hate children. He's just trying to protect the universes the best he can, and he's ready to be the one who has to make the hard choice. I don't think he likes it all. He keeps doing it because he doesn't know any other way. He tried to find it - and the more he tried, the more damage he did. He’s only on the “prevent other worlds from being disrupted” step of this process and he’s already way past worn out.

Look at it from this angle - if you had been working on a project for a very long time, which you had already failed once (and it was so terrible that you don't want to remember), which required all your time and effort, required you to lead people you didn't know very well, required you to constantly make choices, after which you would they always looked askance, and you yourself would feel extremely lousy, but which would clearly benefit many people... And then there was a high chance that another person would ruin everything for you, because he has another untested work plan. And this person is not listening to you, this person is not interested in your arguments, he is absolutely stubborn. Wouldn't you freak out about it? Wouldn't you be angry? Wouldn't you try to stop this person with all your might? This is not hatred of children. It's a damn fear.

#breadly posts #miguel o'hara #atsv #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel 2099 #astv miguel #miguelito #miguel spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #text post

[nocreativityfornames]

Everything we know about Michael so far, lore wise.

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR ALL SEASONS

➤ He's an high-ranking angel from the Celestial Realm, more specifically a Seraph. (nb: 18-2 and nb card: Luke - "I can do it too!")

➤ His love for sweets is the reason Luke took interest in baking. (swd: 5-12 and 23-5)

➤ He and Lucifer were equals in the Celestial Realm and no other angel shared the same status as them. Simeon referred to them back then as "the two great leaders of the Celestial Realm's legion of angels." (swd: 23-7) But currently Michael carries that position alone. (swd: 23-5)

➤ He was supposed to meet MC when they visited the Celestial Realm with Solomon but couldn't because a secret spring suddenly started drying and Michael had to go there to investigate the situation. (swd: 23-7)

➤ He used to be Mammon's mentor and tried his best to train the white-haired brother while in charge of him but wasn't able to figure out how to handle him and eventually went to Lucifer asking for help. And since Lucifer was somehow able to get Mammon to listen to him, he ended up taking over Michael's role and became his mentor instead. (swd: 27-19)

➤ He was originally the one in possession of the Ring of Wisdom but gave the ring to Solomon at a time when the human was feeling "lost" and Michael wanted to help him. (swd: 29-5)

➤ During MC's 2° stay in the Devildom when Diavolo was keeping secret from everyone that their powers had become a threat to the three realms, Michael sent the prince a message through Simeon, warning him that if whatever he was keeping a secret affected the Celestial Realm, angels wouldn't hesitate to intervene. (swd: 31-16 Hard Mode)

➤ He's the one who found the Ring of Light, counterpart to the Ring of Wisdom that Lucifer had lost during the Great Celestial War (swd: 37-9), and quickly noticed it was missing when Simeon stole it to give it to MC ( since it was the only other way to control their powers ), shooting the other angel a text stating that they needed to have a "good, long talk" and that he wanted to see him as soon as possible. (swd chat: M, "untitled")

➤ When MC was given the Ring of Light and fell unconscious because of it, Michael appeared to speak with them. And during their talk, the seraph told MC that he had pictured them to be truly wicked person due to being so well-liked by the brothers, but that he had been proven wrong after meeting them. (swd: 38-17)

➤ In that same conversation, Michael confessed to being jealous of MC. He told them: "I must admit that I'm jealous of you, MC. I wish I could have been more like you. Because I loved Lucifer and his brothers, and I lost them. Perhaps things could have been different..." (swd: 38-17)

➤ When asked, Satan explained to MC that Michael was the opposite of Lucifer appearance-wise but that they felt like twins at the same time. And when Mammon brought up Michael's adoration for Lucifer, Satan chimed in saying that in his opinion the reason Michael liked Lucifer so much was because he was the embodiment of everything he wanted to be but couldn't. (swd: 43-19)

➤ He would be the one having meetings with Diavolo when the prince took over the kingdom if he hadn't thrown the responsibility onto Lucifer in the last minute, making Michael in a way the stepping stone that led Lucifer to question his faith and start having doubts about God and the Celestial Realm in general. (swd: 44-15)

➤ When MC ended up in the past Celestial Realm through a dream Solomon sent them to accidentally by feeding them his food, Michael was the one to bring them back home. The angel told MC that they and the brothers would likely forget what happened in the dream but that it would still have an effect on all of them and he would keep an eye on them to make sure that said effect didn't have negative consequences in the future. (swd: 44-18)

➤ Luke told MC that he often found Michael in the hall where the brothers' portraits used to hang staring at the empty space, lost in thought. According to the small angel, Michael to this day still deeply misses the brothers and has regrets about the war. (swd: 49-15)

➤ He was the one to cast out the brothers from the Celestial Realm and send them to the Devildom. (swd: 50-7)

➤ According to Mammon, Michael and Simeon must've pulled some strings behind the scenes to get Luke to participate in the exchange program and be able to visit the Human World with Simeon because, with his low ranking, he'd never be the one chosen for those sorts of things and the Avatar of Greed is convinced that they're doing this because they want Luke to experience life outside the Celestial Realm, see that there's more out there than heaven, and stop thinking that angels are perfect beings who can do no wrong. (swd: 50-10)

➤ He's knowledgeable on constellations and likes them so much he had Raphael rebuilt a whole room so Human World constellations could be seen even from the Celestial Realm. (swd: 52-7) He also taught Mammon about them when he was still in his care, and later on taught Luke as well. (swd: 50-12)

➤ It was actually he who went into the Devildom and told the brothers that they had been forgiven by God and had to choose between staying in the demonic kingdom ( and making an enemy out of heaven ) or coming back to the Celestial Realm and leaving Satan behind. And in a conversation with Raphael, Michael said the reason for his disguise was that he was worried about what could happen if he showed up as himself. But Raphael quickly rebutted that by saying that the true reason Michael didn't go as himself was because he wouldn't know how to act around the brothers. (nb: 20-14 Hard Mode)

➤ Still disguised as Raphael before going back to the Celestial Realm, Michael told Luke that he wasn't surprised that the brothers didn't accept his offer to go back to heaven and actually knew that would be the outcome of it. He was also surprised not too long after when Luke, not knowing it wasn't Raphael who he was talking to, pointed out that Michael seemed sad and lonely whenever he was staring at the wall where the brothers' portraits used to be. Michael's exact response to the younger angel's words was: "...I didn't realize that's what people thought.” (nb: 20-A)

➤ When asked by Raphael if he planned to attend RAD in the future, Michael avoided giving an direct answer and left. (nb: 20-14 Hard Mode)

#there are some things here that have not been “confimed to be him” because he was under the name “???” during the scenes but #I added them here anyway because we all know it was him at this point #! there might be stuff I didn't add because I couldn't remember so tell me if you notice something is missing ! #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #omswd #obey me michael #obey me solomon #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me luke #obey me simeon #obey me mc #obey me satan #obey me raphael #obey me #obey me lorebible #☙ no creativity for names ✾ #500+

[allmcl]

❤︎ : MCL BOYS AS BOYFRIENDS !!

MCL BOYS . . . and little things about being in a relationship with them + habits they would have.

pairing. ot5 x f!reader

genre. fluff, little bit suggestive.

settle. established relationship ofc, this situates in mcl hsl since they´re teenagers in here.

content warning. mentions of sex in nath´s part but is way too subtle, kissing and the boys being whipped for you.

author´s note. i tried to make this as accurate and long as i could!! i love them so much :(

✧. - ̗̀ CASTIEL . . .

1. he would have such a SOFT spot for you, and it would be so obvious. you are basically the only one who can make him feel better when he is angry, and even though it may not seem like it, it is always very difficult for him to get angry with you. most of the fights you have are mostly in a joking way, mainly because he is way too patient with you, what makes it difficult for you to factually fight, and if it happens it has to be for a good reason. whenever he has a problem, or feels angry for some reason, he turns to you because he discovered that your presence calms him in some way, and he is more likely to take into account what you say about it than what other people say (literally does not care if someone tells him that something he´s doing is rude until you point it out). plus he can't help but give in to your attempts to make him smile when he's upset, which would bother him if it were someone else.

2. he would let you touch his electric guitar (which could result in homicide if someone else tried), he literally wouldn't care at all about trusting it to you. plus, I'm sure castiel would love to teach you how to play it, even if you understand absolutely nothing about music. from time to time he would teach you how to play easy melodies and tease you throughout the process, lovingly of course. it would be adorable to see him excitedly talking to you about something he likes, explaining in his own way how you should hold it, helping you by placing his hands on yours and smiling proudly when you achieve it. he wouldn't care if you couldn't do it, he'd really just enjoy spending time with you laughing when you hit the wrong note or when you forget what he was explaining to you. but it is true that he would be very excited to be able to share that with you.

3. so BOLD. i feel like all the time he would be saying the most out of pocket stuff that would make you blush intensely, and laugh about it because teasing YOU it´s his favorite thing to do. HE HAS NO SHAME, he wouldn't mind saying totally unexpected things in public or private just to see how your face immediately turns red. also would totally make dirty jokes just to watch your expression, also kissing you in public to fluster you would happen very often (i also feel like he wouldn´t do it in front of close friends, but would totally do it in front of strangers.) you could say that his main hobby is definitely embarrassing you.

4. SUCH A HEAVY SLEEPER, you could literally be shouting next to him but he would keep sleeping like a baby, not even MOVING the slightest. it´s funny because the only moment where he would actually wake up because of some movement, it would be when you pull away from his grip while cuddling for any reason. half awake he would simply mumble questions about why you moved, or just blink hard trying to see where you are so he can hug you again. his favorite way to cuddle would be spooning you, i don´t make the rules. he just loves feeling you snuggle against him and pull you closer. he woudn´t mind being spooned either if you liked it, but would prefer it the other way around.

5. he could be SO oblivious sometimes. like, for example, if you changed something in your looks he would take a good few minutes before noticing. or maybe with other things like you being mad. every time you would distance yourself from him because you´re angry, he wouldn´t notice. mainly because i feel like you two totally respect each other when needing space, but after you answering in a very sassy way he would just realize that maybe the reason of you distancing was something bothering you. he tries so hard tho to figure out these things 😭😭

6. used to dying his hair by himself since always, but it just takes a little insistence from you to let you help him. over time, it becomes a habit for both of you, so he always ask for your help whenever he´s about to start his hair treatment. it always ends up being a mess anyway, because he loves to get dye all over you whenever you do it just to annoy you a bit. (he also uses it as an excuse for you to massage his hair when washing it). and in case you would want to dye your hair he would gladly do it for you. but he just finds this moments so cute that he would do it so carefully and gently.

7. suddenly pull you into his lap to make you nervous, but actually enjoys a lot holding you. also loves to hold your waist, like, EVERYTIME. when you´re walking, hes already sliding his arm around ur waist. you two can be hugging and the first thing he would do is wrap his arms around your waist. the same when he´s kissing you, loves to pull you from the waist. would never admit how much he loves laying his head on your chest while cuddling, it soothes him.

8. for some reason i think castiel ignores EVERY message he gets. he´s just too lazy to answer, but only takes the time to answer yours. no matter the time, the place, or what he´s doing, he´ll type something back in response to whatever you sent. is also a huge hater on emojis, he would literally glare at the screen every time you send one. hate stickers too. ALSO HAS YOU AS HE WALLPAPER. would kill anyone who dares to tease about it. his phone has also a secret folder full of cute pictures of you. maybe sleeping, a blurry one walking, laughing, little videos of you two kissing, messing around, and he looks at every single one of them every time he misses you. he would be actually so shy if you ever saw it, he´s just so in love with you what can i say.

9. his kisses are the mos passionate thing ever. is just something about the way he makes you chase after him when he pulls away, the way even though he is normally unintentionally rough he completely changes when his lips are on yours. holding you so close to him by your waist, biting your lips from time to time, teasing you before actually kissing you, tracing the curves of your body while he deepens the kiss. he literally leaves you breathless every. single. time. the only way to fluster him is pulling him by his shirt and kissing him, he enjoys every time you do it even thought when you pull away you can see his blushing face.

✧. - ̗̀ NATHANIEL . . .

1. literally the most shy person at the start of your relationship. i think it would depend a lot when you two started dating. if it´s like in the game, he´ll probably won´t take long before actually being comfortable in the relationship. he´s been in one before, but the difference is that he never felt the way he does with you. i think he would anyway be so nervous to do almost anything. kissing, hugging, even expressing his love for you (which he does unconsciously anyways). he would wait for your consent before trying something like that until you literally have to explain to him that you´re totally fine with all of that.

2. he always find a way to help you anyway he can. it doesn´t matter what you´re struggling with, he will always be there to give you a hand. something i feel like something he always does for you, is remember the little things. i just think that nath is the kind of boyfriend who would be so attentive. he sometimes know you better than yourself, so he will always have your stuff prepared in case you need to go somewhere, he would bring you food he remembers you like, and would totally finish your homework for you when you´re too tired to do it yourself. he literally doesn´t care because he genuinely wants you to rest :(

3. SCARED of public pda. it´s not like a doesn´t want other people to know about your relationship or something, but he would never recover if someone saw you kissing, he´s just like that. anyway he´s totally fine with hand holding, you guys do it all the time. when he walks you home he always find a subtle way to graze his hand with yours until you get the hint (because he´s too nervous to ask you), and finally take his hand in yours. honestly, loves the intimacy it comes with it. loves to hold your hand under the table in a big group of people, while guiding you in crowds, while kissing, literally all. the. time. he takes hand holding even wen you´re both in bed, apart from the act itself, feels that holding your hand is a reminder that there are indeed feelings involved, gently intertwining fingers and gently pressing your hand from time to time in a loving gesture.

4. would love recommending books to you, and reading together. just laying in your lap while reading a book is all he needs to be happy. it´s okay tho if you don´t really enjoy reading, he just likes doing it in your company. in the case you like movies better, he would be fine watching anything you want, but secretly really likes romance movies. i strongly think that he randomly started reading to you at night whenever you stayed with him in his apartment. nath´s voice is so sweet and calm, that it lulls you to sleep almost instantly. also, he probably has the softest hands ever, and even softer every time he plays with your hair, so if you ever have trouble sleeping, you don´t have to worry about that anymore.

5. nath is mostly a light sleeper, and i think he is so prone to have nightmares. he sleeps better every time your next to him because you´re always ready to comfort him in case he wakes up scared. sometimes, when he´s alone and wakes up after having a horrible dream, he would think a lot about what to do since he just can´t sleep right away, the memories of the bad dream still livid. he would finally decide to text you something. if you´re up, he would like to call you and fall asleep while talking to you. if you´re not, he would just listen to your voice audios and try to regain sleep.

6. nath kisses are THE SWEETEST. he just adores kissing you when you´re alone. he always control himself when you´re in a public space, but in school would almost always wait for you both to be alone in the delegates room and would have a short make out sesh. he looks innocent, but he would be so passionate while kissing you. pressing you against the table, nibbling your lips, pulling you closer by the waist, the whole package. but the way he holds you is the purest thing i swear, so delicate and sweet that you get totally confused at the way he kisses you afterwards. he also loves staying there with you, simply hugging and pecking you in the lips form time to time.

7. loves back hugs. giving and receiving them. every time he´s stressed, you come up to him, and you just stay there, carefully squeezing his wait as you engulf him in a big hug. something about it makes him fell at ease, the closeness, the warmth, and the way your arms wrap around his torso and just stay there in complete silence, like you don´t need to say anything. when he´s upset, he does it a lot too and stays there like you´re some kind of charger. while sleeping is the exact same thing. i think we all remember that one episode in mcl where candy lays in nath´s bed and just hug him from behind. well, that´s exactly how i see them cuddling. no all the time tho, if you like being the little spoon is totally okay for him.

8. always sending you encouraging texts through the day: wishing you a good day, reminding you of something, sending some meme he finds funny, LOTS of stickers between texts, and stuff like that that totally brighten your day. also constantly likes to send you pics of his cat, calling you her mom all the time, which never fails to melt your heart. you´re the few people he trust enough to let you play with the little animal, hold her, feed her, and just petting it.

9. i feel like you two almost never really fight, just debate about stuff. but when something actually happens between i actually think nath would give you the silent treatment, in case you´re the one who messed up. also would give you that exasperated expression of him when he´s too stressed, and would be very petty. he would wait for you to come and apologize to him, which won´t long because he just can´t stay mad at you for too long. and if you´re the on who´s mad, in the first place he wouldn´t let you go, he would sit you down, wait till you´re not so angry, and talk about it while apologizing. he would try to understand you and give the time and space you need, still checking on you until you´re ready to forgive him.

✧. - ̗̀ LYSANDER . . .

1. the most romantic person in earth. he´s the kind of boyfriend who would LOVE to make handmade gifts for you. letters, crafts, and in general small details of things you like. dedicating love songs to you, most of the, written by him, leaving you notes throughout the day. i also feel like he would never forget to say good morning or good night to you, it's just part of his routine at this point. also has a lot of drawings of you in his note book, and is the most heartwarming thing ever. doodles of your face in his books, and some perfectly made drawings that would have him blushing if you ever saw one.

2. everything, but like, EVERYTHING reminds him of you. finds you in every single thing he looks at. it can be a cute picture, some object, a flower, a song. he always projects in the things he does, and mos of the time you´re the only thing he thinks about. i just feel like he he´s so whipped for you to a point where you won´t even understand. zones out all the time, mostly when he starts thinking of you (cough, cough, all day, cough).

2. castiel is TIRED. he talks his ear off all day about you, just ranting about every little thing you do for him. he literally knows so much about you two that he´s like the third one in the relationship at this point. he also notices how lysander always find a way to add something about you in every song. when it´s a song that they share, is very subtle, he just knows it because he probably mentioned it. but in the songs lys writes in his private notebook, they literally BASED on you.

3. LOVES to sing for you. his favorite moments are when you just lay your head in his lap and listen to his soothing voice whispering the lyrics of some song he wrote, which you instantly notice is about you. he doesn´t try to hide it anyway, but for some reason i feel like no matter how many songs he sang to you he just gets nervous every time. no because he thinks you won´t like it or something, is just that he talks about you in them in a way that is so disgustingly sweet and in love. also writes a lot of poems for you, and leaves them in your seat at the start of the day and loves watching your reaction while you read it.

4. stares a lot at you, in the most sweet way ever. actually so good at making eye contact (finds adorable how you´re always the first to look away blushing). his eyes literally shine the brightest when they´re focused on you, he doesn´t even blink for long seconds. his favorite past time is memorizing your features. this is why he know exactly how to read you. lys always know the exact face you make when you´re mad, the way you furrow your eyebrows when you´re confused or disagree with something, he know the exact color of your eyes, he literally knows your entire body language at this point, you don´t even have to talk because he already figured out what you´re thinking.

5. i feel like he´s the one normally initiating pda anywhere. he doesn´t really shows much affection in public, but would love having you sit on his lap while wrapping his arms around you and pressing his head against your back. lots of affection while passing by, just because he genuinely can´t keep his hands from himself. brushing his hand in your waist while passing, quick cheek kisses, lovesick smiles in the distance, instantly finding you in a crowded place and seeing him look at you with hearts in his eyes from afar, brief back hugs.

6. FOREHEAD KISSES. FOREHEAD KISSES. FOREHEAD KISSES. i think his main love language. he just finds forehead kisses something so sweet and intimate that he does it all the time. after a kiss he pulls away just to softly kiss your forehead. when he hugs you, he kisses your forehead or the top of your head because hes way more taller than you. while sleeping he does the same thing, since his favorite cuddle position is facing each other he kisses your forehead from time to time before dozing off.

7. his kisses are truly the most delicate thing ever. is just something about the way he pulls you closer, not even touching you, just placing his fingertips in your chin, tilting your face up to kiss you so slow, savoring the moment, tracing your jawline and carefully cupping your cheek after. and the way he pulls away makes you instantly chase after him. he´s so gentle, holding you like you´re made of glass, even sometimes biting so softly you just feel a little tingling sensation before he returns to kiss you sweetly.

8. loves taking care of you. every time you need help, just call, he´s there for you. you´re sick? he´s standing in front of your door with a bag full of food, your favorite snacks, and meds. you´re hungry? he doesn´t mind buying things for you, but prefers making the most delicious homemade meals (husband material fr). if you normally sleep late, he will totally scold you for not taking care of yourself and always makes sure you ate, drank enough water, and slept full 8 hours.

9. surprisingly good at giving advice, he just know how to say the right thing in the right moment, he doesn´t like arguments, so he normally hates fighting with you. he truly doesn´t mind who´s right and who´s wrong, all he wants is talk things out with you to fix everything. so he does the same thing when you fight to someone, he strongly believes the best way to make things up is giving each other and space and accepting your mistakes. also i totally know that it doesn´t matter how mad he is at you, he would never raise his voice or disrespect you. the way he still cares for you ad calls you cute names while subtly showing affection is the most heartwarming thing. he wouldn´t mess things up with you because of a temporary fight.

✧. - ̗̀ ARMIN . . .

1. can we all agree that armin and you are married, live together and raise your 4 children in sims? the moment you found about it was the literal most funny thing ever, he was casually showing you how he designed you two in his game and made a family in there, explaining everything with so much detail it actually seemed so real. YOU LITERALLY LOOK THE SAME IN THE GAME IT´S SURPRISING. he secretly wishes that his future with you looks exactly like that. it may seem like something he does for fun, but he literally aspires to have all of that with you.

2. gives you the most out of pocket petnames you can think of. both of you love to fight with each other who can come up with the most ridiculous pet names and just laugh your ass off while doing it. anyways it´s not so funny when he starts calling you his "pookie wookie bear" in public. he loves to do it tho because of how embarrassed you get. enjoys. every. second. hes totally unfazed when you do the same tho he genuinely finds it so hilarious. and if you call him an actually sweet petname, he´ll totally become a blushing mess so pls do it often, because he secretly screams internally every time you do.

3. you´re the only one who gets to touch his console. every time you two hang out in his house he lets you lay with him cuddling as you play together. so happy to share something he likes so much with you. he would also do things that he normally wouldn´t just to see your smile. he wants to share your hobbies just like you do with him, so all you have to do is say the word and he would do whatever you want, for example, going out. we all know he hates it but, for you, he would make an effort.

4. sucker for you playing with his hair. he finds it the most calming thing ever. it´s so funny how he randomly comes up to you, and lays his head in you thighs and you immediately know what he wants. literally vibrates from joy the moment your soft fingers start playing with his locks, softly scratching his scalp, and leaving kisses from time to time. also pls do it while you kiss him. his brain malfunctions every time you do it because he can´t take so much at the same time.i mean, your soft lips kissing his with so much love while you casually slide your hand through his hair, interlocking your fingers with it even pulling softly when he kisses you deeper? he melted. his kisses are so playful tho. loves to come up unexpectedly and steal kisses from you to make you flustered.

5. SO AWKWARD every time he comforts you. he tries so hard but even though he tries so hard to come up with something struggles so much to find the right words. it breaks him to see you cry, but sometimes its you who throws themselves in his arms before he clumsily wraps them around you and pats your back. he really wants to say something but he prefers to just hold you until you feel better. doesn´t pressures you to talk if you don´t want to, but is actually a very good listener and would silently stare at you while you rant about whatever is bothering you. also adds threats to whoever made you upset from time to time just to see your smile and chuckle about it.

6. he doesn´t mind about public affection. it´s not because he wants to make you nervous or anything, he literally doesn´t care who´s around. alexy for example doesn´t even care anymore because of how used he is to you two being affectionate. most of the time armin completely forgets where you two are, and just wrap his arms around you resting his head in top of yours, holding hands in front of everyone, unexpectedly kissing you whenever he feels like it. would GLARE if anyone dares to say something about it. i mean, he just loves affection, he hates staying away from you for too long so don´t expect him to be subtle. he also loves showing affection through little things like remembering little things about you.

7. LOVES horror movies. i just know it. normally uses them as an excuse to make you scared and snuggle against him every time something scary appears in the screen, and wrap his arms around you. anyway, he´s actually unfazed about everything he sees. i feel like it´s so hard to scare him. like, you have to pick a very good movie to make him at least flinch. definitely sleeps while watching 😭

8. loves to play silly jokes on you. can´t go a moment without making a joke, literally. loves to prank you every time he gets the chance, mostly scaring you for jumping out of nowhere because he finds the faces you make the funniest thing ever. also i feel like armin would sen you funny pics of him out of nowhere, a lot of memes, and random pictures he finds amusing.

9. SO unserious sometimes. this normally lead to both of you fighting a lot. i mean, you two would normally argue over a lot of stuff. not like actual fights most of the time, but the both of you are so petty that there is always someone who will be right and prove the other person wrong. worse when it's really something important and many times armin doesn't take it seriously, which usually happens because fighting stresses him out, and his way of dealing with it is by making jokes about it to lessen the tension. since this bothers you, you two end up fighting worse. in those cases, armin is initially convinced that he did nothing wrong and has no reason to apologize. it is almost always alexy who must intervene to explain to him that in fact, he is the one who is wrong and convince him (force him) to apologize, which he always does. anyway, over time, as he adapts more to the relationship and things get more serious, he learns to improve in that aspect, although you are almost always quite tolerant too.

✧. - ̗̀ KENTIN . . .

1. do i need to say that kentin is the most sweet boyfriend ever? i feel like hes the whole package. attentive, sweet, good listener, and SO PUPPY CODED. being with you literally makes him the happier person in earth, as cheesy as it sounds. he has no problem in telling you that all the time. he struggles a little but he out of nowhere starts ranting about how much he loves you, which you gladly listen to every time.

2. the most invested in physical contact. I think that kentin was always a loving person, but from the moment he discovered that specifically YOUR TOUCH is what makes him feel like he never had before, he also discovered that he hates being separated from you. he might even seem too clingy at times, since he literally sometimes feels his body ACHE from being separated from you for too long. he always seeks to touch you in some way, touching hands, hugs, kisses, anything that involves closeness.

3. kentin has no problem with affection in public, although generally you are the one who initiates it (in case you feel comfortable with that). however, the moment you show him in some way that it doesn't bother you at all, prepare to have him on top of you almost all the time. he doesn't really abuse it, but he does like to hold your hand and peck you from time to time, although he does blush if someone mentioned something about it. although he doesn't mind too much after getting used to it. his hold is literally the most soothing ever. its just something about the way his hands fit perfectly into yours, the way he gets lost in your eyes every time you two made eye contact, the blushing in his face when you´re the one kissing him first, and all the little gestures.

4. kentin kisses are literally the most breathtaking thing ever. he can never get enough of the taste of your lips in his. its just that he sometimes can believe the person he´s been dreaming about for so long is reciprocating his feeling, it sometimes gets too much for him. glossy eyes, faint touches, and loving caresses are the kind of things you can expect after kissing him (in private, of course). he just feels so vulnerable every time you cradle his face with your hands and get on your tiptoes to kiss him. i think he tries to be gentle, but ends up almost every time kissing you a little roughly, he just can´t help it sometimes. something he often does after kissing you, is pressing his forehead against yours just a moments before catching his breath and kissing you again.

5. he can be really insecure sometimes when it´s about you. he doesn´t find himself special to the point of deserving a partner so amazing like you, so, why would you even be with him while having so much other options? this thoughts get to him pretty regularly at the start of your relationship, because everything is so new to him and you´re just so important in his life that he needs a lot of reassurance during moments like this. he normally tells you about how he feels, but sometimes it gets a little hard for him to express himself. you know very well how to read him tho, he can be very transparent sometimes about his emotions. but after he gets more comfy in the relationship and starts maturing an realizing that you´re with him for a reason, this thoughts get almost inexistent.

6. can´t go a single day without cuddling with you. i think ken is actually very protective of you, which also shows in the way he likes to hold you. his favorite cuddling position his holding you securely against his chest, so he feels like protects you. and he totally does, because every time his strong arms wrap around you, pressing impossibly closer to each other is when you feel like nothing in the world can harm you as long as he´s there. but sometimes i think he wouldn´t mind AT ALL being held by you. there are those days where he feels like he´s just too tired and the only thing he needs is you, s he just lets himself relax in your embrace, calming himself by the sound of your heart beating.

7. loves hanging out with you. you guys see each other almost every single day. in high school, and then you both normally hang out a lot after that, normally going to the park, ken taking you on dates, taking a walk with cookie, making video call until late hours, and basically just coming out with any plan he can think of just to spend more time with you. you guys talk about a lot of stuff while chilling together anywhere you two decided would be a good place. talking about the future, where he always includes you.

8. LOVES making playlist for you and the sending them for you to listen to all the songs that reminds him of you. also, it normally ends with both of you blasting each one in your room while messily singing to the lyrics and laughing. i feel like he also loves to spend his time watching movies, and is totally the kind of person who wouldn´t shut up and would accidentally spoil you lol he always gets scolded by you.

9. kentin always does the impossible to avoid fights with you because he just can´t stand to know that helps the one upsetting you. if you guys fight over minor stuff he would apologize anyway, but he would be totally relieved you aren´t actually mad at him. but please never yell at him, or say something mean because kentin would literally cry. he actually does sometimes when the argument is serious and you just walk away out of anger. even if it hurts him he normally gives you space if you tell him (he would prefer not to because of his clingy ass but like, he gets it) but as soon as things cooled down, he would think of whatever he can do to fix things up (and just like lys, he doesn´t even care about who´s right). honestly, he just wants to make up as soon as possible.

©allmcl !

#amor doce #amour sucre #cdm #corazon de melon #mcl #mcl armin #mcl boys #mcl castiel #mcl high school life #mcl kentin #mcl nathaniel #my candy love #my candy love hsl #mcl fluff #mcl lysander #mcl hsl #fluff #headcanons #castiel fluff #nathaniel fluff #lysander fluff #armin fluff #kentin fluff

[vex91]

Yu Jimin - Forced marriage

Pairing: Yu Jimin x Female Reader (CEO AU)

Fandom: Aespa

Requested by: Anonymous

Request: yn's father is in a debt so he gave his daughter to his boss's daughter for money like for marriage bc he is filthy rich so she hates her father. jimin and yn don't want each other, later jimin learns about this, she didn't know that her father did this and start to be kind to her. you can make yn play hard to get or not, whatever you want.

Summary: To pay off his debts, your father decides to make you marry one of the richest CEO's daughter and the fact that none of you wanted that marriage made you both hate each other.

A/N: KARINAAAAAAAA @1luvkarina something's for you😂 Thanks for requesting anon❤

3rd's POV

You hated Yu Jimin.

It wasn't anything personal with the woman, you hated her because of yours and hers parents who decided to control your life without any care about your own feelings.

You always loved your father, he never failed to make you feel loved and he supported you through everything you went through as a teenager but that was until you were 16. Your father borrowed some money from shady people and soon after he borrowed even more not realizing how badly it will end for him. The debt quickly became much too big for your family to pay off. Your parents were devastated, they tried to not talk about anything debt related around you and you thought it was because they didn't wanted to worry you but on your 18th birthday you found out the truth about why they whispered around the house whenever they talked about their debt.

The truth was your father found a solution to their problems. He contacted a very well-known CEO of a famous company in Seoul, Mr. Yu who was also your father's boss and after talking about different options they agreed on having you marry his daughter Jimin who was soon to inherit the company. When your father told you about it you were furious, you couldn't believe your own father could just sell you like this just to solve his own problems and your mother agreeing to that made you even more devastated. Their assurances of their love for you didn't do much for you, you could see that you didn't mean much to them since they were willing to just force you into something like that without any problems.

Your wedding was your nightmare. Jimin was nice and all but ever since you officially met you could feel how much she also hated the fact she had to marry someone she didn't wanted to marry. You both pretended to be happy and in love during your wedding but the moment you guys entered your shared house, you both completely ignored each other. There was no reason for you to argue when you could just pretend that nothing happened and live not getting into each other ways. That's how you spend the next few months as a married couple, you ignored each other most of the time and going on dates with other people, only acting as a couple in front of her parents whenever they visited.

One night Jimin came back from a tiring day at work to see you at your usual spot on the window. You made yourself a very comfortable space there with pillows and blankets so you often used it to rest or sleep if you didn't wanted to sleep with Jimin. Your wife observed you for a while as you read your book before moving to the kitchen to make herself something to eat "I made you dinner. It's in the fridge" Your voice cut through the silence but not for long as silence soon took over again. Jimin silently opened the fridge to see her favorite food prepared. As she warmed it up she continued staring at you "Do you need anything?" You asked looking at her having enough of her stares. Jimin hesitated, thinking if she should touch on the subject.

"Why did you marry me?" You looked up at her confused. You wondered what made her ask that since she never cared about it until now. You were silent trying to think of what to say until Jimin said something that made you furious "Did you pay my father to marry me? That's why he was so adamant in making me marry you?" You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Was she really accusing you of paying her father so you could marry her?

"Excuse me?" You stood up and went over to her "You heard me" You were shocked and angry, you hated how this whole situation made you feel so many things at once, especially the pain you felt when on your 18th birthday "You think I wanted that? Marrying you was the last thing I wanted actually but well I didn't had a choice since my father clearly already signed the agreement with your father before even telling me. Just for your knowledge not everybody is obsessed with you" Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked down, Jimin on the other hand was stunned. She wasn't sure what to say, guilt eat her up as she realized that you just like her were basically sold by your father.

She tried to reach for you but you quickly stormed off to your bedroom leaving Jimin standing alone in the kitchen with all her swirling thoughts.

2 hours passed since then and you were still laying in bed looking at the ceiling. Jimin's words hurt, they reminded you of how betrayed you felt and how much you hated your current life. Jimin still didn't came back to the bedroom and at some point you thought that she decided to sleep on the couch but that thought soon left your mind as you heard the door opening. You turned around to face somewhere else and listened to her quiet footsteps getting closer and soon a hand shook your arm. You stayed still not wanting to even look at her at that moment.

Jimin sighed before talking "Y/N... I know you don't want to talk and I understand that. Just know that I really regret saying everything I said back there, I didn't know about your father. I'm gonna sleep on the couch tonight" She finished and you heard her leaving some bags next to the bed and leaving. You moved around and took the bags to see what was inside and the sight shocked you. It was your favorite meal you ordered a lot during evenings. The fact that Jimin payed attention to that was completely surprising to you but the fact that she went and bought some for you despite the late hour was even more shocking.

Inside was a note.

I wasn't sure which sauce you preferred so I bought every kind they had. I hope you enjoy the food and maybe we can talk tomorrow?

From Jimin <3

Maybe she wasn't so bad after all.

#vex writes #🌙 anon #aespa x reader #aespa reactions #yu jimin x reader #karina x reader #yu jimin #karina

[mizuminon]

Dr. Vertitas Ratio x GN reader

Summary ; He never expected to fall in love with a simpleton such as yourself.

Extra notes : He's a green flag if you ignore the red flags. So yay my first fic here!!

He hated idiots, simpletons and mediocrity.

So what exactly did his heart see in you?

You were one of his students, he often bickered with you over small mistakes you made, every little mistake making him more and more frustrated with you. He knew you could do better, and hell do anything to see you do better.

When he offered you tutoring sessions, it was something you were reluctant to accept. After all, when exactly did he go out of his way to help anyone that hasn't requested him to do it first? With his ego, you were a bit skeptical about his reasoning.

Slowly but surely, you warmed up to his tutoring sessions. He wasn't exactly any kinder to you, but he was significantly more pleasant to be with.

You've noticed his behavior changing, usually whenever anyone made a mistake, he'd call them an idiot through his thick alabaster head. And yet, you've never seen him wear it around you. It made you feel more comfortable around him. Knowing you could see him face-to-face.

You've taken note of how handsome he was, even when thinking he looked picture perfect. He still wore it during class, but never with you. 

You were surprised when he first brought food to your tutoring sessions , you immediately questioned his reasoning.

"I just want to see you eating healthier food." He said, and you decided that maybe it was out of genuine care. You two sat and ate what he prepared, it felt good to eat a meal that had actual care and time put into it.

On rainy nights, he made excuses that he couldn't go home, because he walked to your apartment. It all sounded stupid, but you knew better than arguing with Dr. Veritas Ratio.

You two had to get creative, since you had one bed. And he refused to sleep on the couch, and after you offered to sleep on the couch, he still refused.

Which resulted in the both of you laying on your bed, it was cramped, you could feel his back against yours. It was weird. 

You felt him turn around, his warm breath down your neck. He pulled you a bit closer to him, your back against his chest. "Is this okay with you, dear? I don't want you having any lack of sleep, tomorrow's lesson will be hard." He mumbled, his voice a bit deeper due to the tiredness.

To be quite honest, your friends always said he had a thing for you. He was harsh towards everyone, but somehow his narcissistic heart managed to soften up for you, and only you. "Mhm, yeah. It's okay. More comfortable." You replied, trying not to let him know how long you've wanted this.

Wrapping his arm around your torso, he pulled you closer, your bodies tangled together. Neither of you minded, it felt right. 

You felt his breath close to your ear, "I love you, goodnight." He mumbled. You couldn't help but almost scream, out of excitement of course. "I love you too." Was the response you gave him.

One thing was on your mind, as you drifted into a deep sleep in his arms, 

How did he fall for a mere simpleton like you?

#dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #hsr dr ratio #hsr x reader #dr veritas ratio #dr veritas ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #mizu writes #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader