#I'm trying to come up with something to say here but I'm very tired and cranky today

[isawritesshit]

The Color Blue - Chapter 2

image taken from @ lovevivianne on pinterest

Synopsis: As the only daughter to the leader of the Kamo Clan, you were trained and protected to one day bring your father honor through your marriage to the heir of the Gojo Clan. However, your husband ended up being something that your family never prepared you for. As you come to navigate a new world of politics between the clans, your husband convinces you that there is nothing wrong with honoring yourself too. MDNI WITH THIS CHAPTER.

Warnings and Content: fem! reader, slightly ooc! (?) gojo, mostly fluff with a hint of angst, smut (gojo fantasizes about fucking the reader, body worshipping, marking, fingrering, fem receiving! oral, taking reader’s virginity in mating press), mentions/anxieties of marriage consummation, themes of arranged/forced marriage/familial expectations, cursing, themes of mentally abused/anxious reader, male masturbation

Author's Note: Chapter 2 woo woo! Had a lot of fun writing this one. Please keep in mind that there is smut in the chapter so minors dni! I will add that reader's father in this series, along with other family members, are not canon and are created for the purpose of the story, as well as the beliefs/dramatization of the Kamo clan. If you have yet to read the prologue or chapter one, please do so!

Word Count: 7.3k

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Satoru folded his arms as he stood before your father, waiting for him to say something. Instead, the man held Satoru's gaze while sitting on the foyer's couch, not breaking it even when one of the household staff set a cup of steaming tea on the table before them and left.

Arao Kamo was a gruff man, and stupidly proud. His clan was the largest of the three major jujustu clans. Where Satoru and now you were the only Gojo members, the Kamos had dozens interwoven into their bloodline, and Arao oversaw them all with an iron fist. Just as Yaga had said, this was a family rooted in deep tradition, and Arao upheld it just as the other Kamos had done for centuries. Though he was past his prime as a sorcerer, wrinkles dotting his once handsome face just like the gray in his hair, he was widely respected across the jujustu community.

"Where is my daughter?" Your father asked lowly, clearly tired of waiting. Waiting for you, Satoru realized.

"She's sleeping. She had a pretty bad fever this week, so I'm making her prioritize her rest. I was just about to make her breakfast when you arrived, actually," Satoru replied with equal calm, cocking his head and giving him a smirk. "Though, I'm assuming you're not here for breakfast."

"I came to see (Y/N)," your father grumbled, now taking the tea into his hands. "I messaged her this morning notifying her I would be here, but it seems she didn't see it. That girl can be so insolent sometimes..."

That set Satoru off a bit. No wonder you were always so focused on pleasing him if you had to cater to this prick. "Well, forgive me, sir, but like I said, she's asleep, so she wouldn't have been able to read your texts. Maybe next time give her a further notice. And, contrary to your definitely valued opinion, I find your daughter quite charming and very polite. But hey, what do I know, she's only been living with me for a month and a half," Satoru shrugged, firing at him with his usual attitude. He was peeved to even refer to this man as his father-in-law, so he avoided it as much as he could.

Satoru almost snickered when he saw a vein fire off in the Kamo leader's head as he gripped the ceramic cup so hard it almost cracked. What was even more fun was knowing that the man couldn't even tell Satoru to watch his tone. They were equal in position, but Satoru greatly outweighed him in power, even if your father was a retired special-grade.

Your father only released a breath, trying to calm himself before saying, "Right. Well then, since she's preoccupied, I'm sure you wouldn't mind telling me that you both have consummated your marriage?"

Satoru tried and failed to hide the disgust on his face. Why would he need to know that? You being his daughter or no, he had no right to know what went on in your marital bed. Satoru decided in that moment that he wanted your father out of this house before he made him leave. "Oh, yeah, definitely. Don't know why that's any of your business, but of course we have," Satoru lied, though the smug grin on his face made it look like he was telling the truth.

"Well then, I congratulate you both," your father said, now standing. "I expect good news in the coming weeks. I suppose I'll be taking my leave now."

"Oh, please do," Satoru replied wittily, moving a little too quickly to open the front door for him. "I need to get back to breakfast before my poor dear wife starves."

Arao gave Satoru a sneer before walking out the door. "Oh, and the lawn care guy should be outside if you need help getting down the stairs!" Satoru shouted as he watch the man leave, closing the door and laughing to himself.

He stood at the door for a moment, sighing and running a hand through his hair, all while trying to ponder the reason why your father felt the need to show up in the first place. Suddenly, Satoru felt a little guilty for not trying to move up the marriage date himself, now getting a more vivid image of what you probably had to deal with.

Speaking of you, he needed to get back to cooking. He turned to walk back up the stairs, but you were already standing at the top, looking down at him. He smiled at the sight of you, your usual silk robe covering your nightgown as you folded your hands in front of you. It seemed like you had just washed up, too. Satoru jogged up the steps to greet you.

"Satoru-" you started, a small pout on your face.

"Don't worry, (Y/N), I took care of it," Satoru interrupted, putting his hands on your shoulders to usher you back to the kitchen. "By the way, your father is a lovely individual."

"I know it was him you were talking to. I just saw his texts and rushed down to greet him, but you got there before me," you explained. "I was listening to your conversation, but I should have showed my face. Forgive me?"

"That's perfectly okay. You have nothing to be sorry for. You don't have to talk to him if you don't want to," Satoru reconciled. "To be honest, I was already ticked that he just invited himself over."

"Well, he is my father. He should be able to see me when he wants to," you replied. Satoru looked at you and furrowed his brow as the two of you walked through the doors and towards the kitchen.

"(Y/N), that shouldn't mean anything. You're his daughter, sure, but you're also an adult and someone that's capable of making their own decisions, so you have a right to refuse him, especially in the state that you're in. Not to mention, you should be in bed," Satoru argued. Did you really stop resting to go downstairs and see him? How much of a hold did this man still have on you?

"But as your wife and the matron of the house, I should be the first to greet guests-"

Satoru only snickered and shook his head. "(Y/N), just because that was something your father taught you doesn't mean you have to do that. You realize how ridiculous that statement sounds?"

He suddenly regretted his words when you gave him a worried look. "But, that's my responsibility-"

“But it doesn’t have to be!” Satoru interjected before you could say anymore. He sighed before continuing. “Look, I didn’t mean to raise my voice. What I mean is that… you’re recovering from an illness, and we both know you need rest. So, since something like this came up and because I’m the one taking care of you, I went to go answer the door because you’re still in bed. I was happy to do it, (Y/N)…”

After a few seconds, he added, “I understand what you think, and please don’t take this like I’m trying mansplain something to you or what not… but the whole husband-wife relationship dynamic that I think you have in mind… it’s not… healthy, so to speak. At least, I don’t think it is. You don't always have to break yourself down trying to handle so many things. The same goes for me too. So we help each other, right? You don’t even have to think of it in a married way either. Just see it like I’m doing you a favor, yeah?”

"Still... he won't be happy with me," you murmured as the two of you walked the rest of the way to the kitchen in silence. The ingredients still sat on the counter, the batter ready but unused. Satoru decided to get started on that right away while you watched from the entryway.

"Satoru?"

"Mhm?"

"Why did you lie...?" The stove reached a crescendo of sizzles as Satoru poured the batter onto the pan, his back turned to you.

"Because he has no right knowing about private stuff like that," he replied, his shoulders moving slightly under his t-shirt as he fiddled the batter with the spatula. "And because I knew he would be furious with you. I knew he would find a way to blame it on you... as if it was your fault that I decided not to force myself on you because you were obviously nervous and scared and we had practically just met. I would never do something like that unless you wanted me to."

"But I do."

"Do you? Or do you want to because you know it's what your family expects of you?"

A beat. "I don't know."

Satoru moved the done pancakes onto a paper plate and poured more batter on the pan. "(Y/N), what do you want us to be?"

"You're my husband-"

"No, just... putting all that aside for a minute. Disregard what I want, what your family wants, what jujustu society wants... what do you want us to be, as two human beings?"

You didn't answer his question. In fact, you didn't say anything until he had used up all of the batter and made a semi-okay stack of blueberry pancakes for the both of you. Maybe you have never been asked something like this before. After all, your whole life you were told to be dedicated to your father and your family name, and then eventually to him. Your opinions thus didn't ever matter in any situation, so no one probably bothered asking. Did you even know then what it was like to want something? To want to have a goal or a sense of identity that was truly your own?

It wasn't until he opened the silverware drawer to grab forks that you spoke up.

"A friend. I want us to be friends."

Satoru smiled, shutting the drawer before handing you your plate. "You got it, pretty girl."

___________________________________________________________

"So what do you like to do for fun?" Satoru asked, observing you as he sat backwards on one of the many chairs of the library.

"Read," you replied, not even looking up from the book in front of you.

"Yeah. I gathered," Satoru grumbled. Whatever you were reading, you seemed really immersed, pages in your face and curled up all nice and comfy on the couch. He reached forward, barely able to put the tip of his finger on the top of the cover to pull it down a little and look at you. "What else?"

"Have we not had this discussion before?" You moved the book back up, a placid expression on your face.

"Yeah, but there's a difference between hobbies and things you do for fun..."

"Okay then. I do my hobbies for fun."

Satoru sighed. "So you're telling me you've never like... gone to the movies? An amusement park? Maybe a club or something?"

He barely saw you shake your head as you said, "Aside from going to see a movie once or twice, I've never done any of those. There are more ways to spend my time that do not involve spending money or wearing indecent clothing around indecent people."

Satoru chuckled at your response. You did seem like the type of person to frown upon things like parties and alcohol. "Hmph. Now that has me thinking... what is the most rebellious thing you've ever done as a teenager?"

You set your book down at his question, gently marking the page as you hummed. "I was able to procure a romance novel when I was 16..." you murmured.

Satoru only raised an eyebrow, shifting in his seat. "And? What did you do with it?"

"I read it of course," you replied matter-of-factly.

"That's... it? What, was it like hardcore porn or something?"

"Goodness no! It was... just a romance novel..." You picked up your book again, clearly flustered.

Satoru snickered, moving a chair around to sit on it normally to look at you as you read. "Well then, what was so bad about it?"

"Well, the fact that it was a romance novel," you shrugged.

That made Satoru pause for a moment, considering what your words were implying. "So... you weren't allowed to read romance novels? That seems kinda harsh... Is that why you read so much non-fiction type stuff?"

"To begin, I do read fiction, just not a lot of fiction prose. And secondly, yes, I was not allowed to," you explained. "My father believed reading stories of that nature would give me fanciful ideas to go out and try to experience romance and tamper my chastity before my marriage."

That stunned Satoru to silence for a moment. "Wow. Not gonna lie, your dad's a dick."

Your brow furrowed as you looked at him from over your book. "Satoru, that's rude."

"What? He's not in the room with us. And besides, it's not like you were shooting heroin up your arm and getting pregnant at 16 because you read a romance book," he argued, crossing his arms over his jacket. "What was it even about anyway?"

You sighed, setting down your book again. "I don't really remember. Something like... a girl running away from her kingdom to escape marriage, and she somehow ends up falling for the man she was supposed to marry anyway." You leaned back against the couch, setting your book on the table nearby. "I never read it again. I was too afraid someone would find it and tell my father."

"What was the book called?"

"I don't... I don't remember," you muttered, looking down in your lap.

"Did you like it?"

You only shook my head with a smile. "You ask a lot of questions, Satoru."

He only smirked and raised his arms up in a 'guilty as charged' motion. "Well, forgive me for just trying to know more about something that you obviously enjoyed. But seriously? Your dad wouldn't let you read something like that?"

"N-no..." Your eyes wandered before landing on the clock on the other side of the room, standing when you realized what time it was. "I should start on lunch-"

"Ah, ah, ah," Satoru ticked, standing up to stop you. "We're going out for lunch."

"We are?" you asked, looking up at him confused. "Did I forget?"

"Nope, I just decided," Satoru chirped, now putting a hand on the small of your back as he led you out of the library. "We're gonna go to lunch, and then we're going shopping."

"But we have food here... and what do we need to shop for?" you inquired, a puzzled look on your face. "I had just run to the market this past weekend..."

"Well, dontcha think it's kinda odd that we're married yet we haven't really gone out to do something fun together? I think it'll be nice. And you can't shop for books on an empty stomach," he replied, patting his own stomach for emphasis. "You can get any romance book you desire, all on me. It doesn't even have to be a romance book, either! I can tell you've been reading those same poetry collections over and over so you must want some new ones..."

Your silence was a clear indicator of your hesitation, making Satoru look at you for a moment. You were biting the inside of your cheek, eyes trained down, second guessing. "Hey, if you don't want to, we won't go," he said, voice softening. "We can make lunch here and find something else to do later, if that's what you'd rather do..."

"I... I'm just..." you started.

"What's on your mind, pretty girl?"

You looked sheepishly off to the side, now stopping in the center of the private living room in both you and Satoru's shared part of the estate. "It's just... my father visited here less than a week ago trying to see me, and I didn't even greet him. And now... now what you're proposing is... something he most definitely wouldn't...uhm..."

Admittedly, the first thing Satoru felt was frustration. How much of your life did your father dictate before he married you? Too much, Satoru knew now. Too much to the point where you're thinking of his approval long after you were grown and married. Too much to the point where your father could have demanded an answer to the same question he asked Satoru a few days ago, and you would've answered him truthfully despite the fact that you knew you would suffer. What more could this man want from you besides your total devotion?

However, that frustration melted to empathy and heartache when looking at your face. Now, because of your consideration of rejecting his offer, you looked guilty. He felt the urge to reach out and hug you; to hold your head to his chest and tell you it was okay, and that he understood; to let you know that he didn't take any offense to what your concerns were or what you were feeling. After all...

He can't blame you for knowing any different.

"(Y/N), I understand that you may feel that way but... I'll tell you the same thing that I told you before: I'm not your father. I don't plan on being like him, either. You can do whatever you want when you're here. So, if you want to stay here and not go get anything, that's fine. But, I want you to know that I would be very happy to take you to go get a few books and some food, and I think you'll be too. It's your decision."

You swallowed, picking at the skin of your fingers, likely a nervous habit. Your eyes darted to a few different spots: the carpet, his socks, the wooden wall, the window. You tried to calm your breaths, your chest rising and falling, rising and falling...

"Maybe... maybe one new thing on my bookshelf... wouldn't hurt?"

___________________________________________________________

One new book turned into two, two into three, and three into ten. Of course, Satoru got a few for himself too. He wasn't a big reader, but he figured he'd try a few to keep him occupied when traveling.

Traveling was part of the reason he took you out today. You both already knew that he had been assigned an upcoming mission for a while now, one that was going to keep him away for about a week. He wanted to do something for you before he left, and he couldn't have thought of anything more perfect.

After your shopping, the two of you went to a little café tucked between the stores of a nearby shopping center. You both talked for roughly two hours, enjoying baked sandwiches and coffee and muffins. It was the first time he had ever seen you talk so openly with him, like he was having a conversation with any of his other friends or colleagues. But it was so... different at the same time? You had this grace to the way you spoke, which he had already noticed, but what was new was your cute mannerisms: the way your eyes looked upward when you tried to think of something, or the way you smiled nervously when you suddenly forgot what the two of you had been talking about...

And if that wasn't icing on the cake, there was what he was now referring to in his head as The Miracle. A little blonde girl, no more than five, had been running around the café with her other sister, friend, whoever, for most of the time the two of you had been there. However, amidst trying to run away from the other girl she was playing with, the little blonde had run into the chair you were sitting in, causing her to fall over. Satoru choked on a laugh while you just bent over in your seat to help the girl up.

However, when you helped the girl to her feet, a hand on her little wrist, the kid just stared at you, starstruck. When you asked if she was alright, the girl only answered with a dazed, You look like a princess.

And what he witnessed was the best part of his day. You laughed. Loudly. Eyes crinkled as your cheeks expanded from a wide smile. You thanked the little girl, told her she looked like one too, before the kid ran back over to her parents.

He had laughed too, of course. Usually kids give him weird stares, but seeing it happen to someone else was funny for a change. Satoru couldn't have agreed more with the kid, though. You did look like a princess, even if you were wearing just a typical floral dress, and he had the fight the urge to rub it in the kid's face. She's my princess that I get to see everyday because she's my wife, so eat it.

That laugh was a broken record in his head the entire drive home, replaying over and over. It was so... unlike you, in a sense. You were so timid, yet your laugh had come out loud and roaring up from the pit of your stomach like a long awaited eruption. What he wouldn't give to hear that again...

And that's what led him to your bedroom. The two of you just got back 30 minutes ago and he was craving your presence again already. He stood in your already open doorway, leaning against it with his sunglasses slung low on his nose as he watched you put your new books on your bookshelf. You even rearranged some of the ones already on there to make a different section for your three new romance novels.

You seemed content, fulfilled. Satoru considered that a mission accomplished.

He spoke up when you were done. "Tired of me yet, or do you want to find something else to do?"

You turned to face him from where you were sitting on the floor before standing and straightening out the skirt of your dress. There was something... extremely attractive about your modesty, your adorable and considerate manners. He knew they must have been drilled into you since childhood, but the way you did it- the little bounce when you stood, the slight shift of your weight from one foot to another, your wide eyes looking at him- that was all you. He loved it.

"Uhm... if you don't mind me asking, Satoru..." you began, one of your hands picking at your fingers- a nervous habit, he now knew. "Why did we go out today... or why did you take me out? I don't think I did anything to... necessarily deserve this-"

"Let me stop you right there," he interrupted, a small chuckle as he took his glasses off and placed them on the collar of his button-up shirt. "You don't need to do anything to deserve something like this. I just wanted to hang out, have fun, take your mind off of things that might be worrying you. After all, you're the one that said you wanted to be friends, am I right?"

"Yes, but... I didn't know that that would entail shopping sprees..." you replied, a mix of bashfulness and thankfulness crossing your features.

"Well, it does when you're friends with me. And don't forget, my money's all yours anyway, so really then you don't even need me to take you out to splurge. If you end up hating me enough, you could buy your own house on the other side of the world and never see my face again," he shrugged, smirking a little.

That smirk grew when your face changed from bashful to worried. "Why would I do that? And... and how do I have access to any of that?" you exclaimed.

Satoru stepped off the doorway, making his way over to you. "Well, you're legally my wife, so my money is also yours. And as for hating me, while I will do everything in my power from getting you to do so, I know I can be a lot for people to try and handle. So if you end up disliking me, that's totally understandable."

You only looked up at him anxiously. "I think it would be rather crude of me to dislike you after everything you've done for me..."

"I guess you're right, but you're still allowed to from time to time. I'd rather you express yourself than cover it up," Satoru replied with a smile, crossing his arms over his chest. "So then, based off of that logic, how do you feel about your father?"

You opened your mouth, but then shut it, looking away. "I can understand why you feel loyalty to him and your family, but from what I can gather, he treated you terribly. And while I don't clearly know everything, I can tell. Really, I can. Were you happy to let him... indoctrinate you like that?" he asked, eyes soothing into something more comforting.

"I..." you started, as if trying to find the words. Then your breaths rose and fell slightly faster, your bottom lip began quivering. Satoru's eyebrows raised as he took note of what was going to happen-

His arms shot forward to steady you as your body seemed to cave in a little, a small no cracking from your throat before the tears started. His heart broke to pieces.

"Hey, hey, hey... shh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you something like that without warning you..." he whispered, ushering you to sit on the bed while he stood in front of you. "Hey, talk to me. You can talk to me..." Satoru raised his hands, one placing itself on your shoulder, the other wiping the tears that trickled down your face.

Through your sobs and shaky breaths you were able to get out, "Scared... I was always... so scared and frightened by... by the thought of what... w-what he would do... if... if I... but I had no choice-"

"Yeah... and you shouldn't have to feel that way around your own father. What he was teaching you, and how he treated you, was wrong," he consoled, brushing more tears and stray strands of hair away from your face. Snot began to drip from your nose. "Shit, uh... here."

You grimaced as he held up his forearm for you to blow into his sleeve. You just pouted and shook your head.

Satoru chuckled lowly. "C'mon, it's fine. I can take it off and wash it later. Unless, you want me to take it off now?" he added with a wink and wiggled eyebrows shot in your direction.

That only caused your face to redden a little, giving him a sniffle as you moved you head forward and used his shirt as a tissue. "Don't be afraid to blow. I got another sleeve too," he quipped, smiling weakly when you eventually did as he adjusted more of your hair behind your ear.

"(Y/N)..." Satoru moved to sit next to you on the bed. "I'm not going to make you tell me everything about yourself. What you want to share is up to you. But, I'll promise that you'll never have to be afraid of me... okay?"

You nodded once, your breaths staggering as you forced yourself to get calm.

"And... can you look at me please?" he whispered, gently cupping one side of your face to turn your attention to him. "You can come to me for anything. Even when I'm not here, you have my number."

You only sighed. "I'm sorry..."

"Sorry? For what?" Satoru retracted his hand from your face.

"For... for that. For feeling like you... for having to... coddle me like this," you muttered. "It's... deeply unfair to you..."

"It's really not..." he tittered. For a moment, he considered telling you just how much he had been wanting, waiting for a moment like this so he could show how much he cared for you. He wanted to tell you that he would rip his whole shirt to scraps for you to blow your nose in to prove it. "Emotions... aren't meant to be something transactional between people. Trust me, I know. If you want me to go to you for something, I gladly will, but right now it's not about me..."

"Are you sure?" you voice cracked, brows furrowing.

"Sure that's it not about me? Well, perhaps not everything can be. But I guess it's okay to give away my spotlight once in a while," he sighed with his usual sarcasm, causing you to giggle a little.

"I meant... are you sure that... that you'd be okay if I... talked to you about... anything?" you questioned again, trying to find your words.

"Absolutely, 's what I'm here for," Satoru assured. "And each time I'll remind you that you're a wonderful, talented, kind, and good-looking individual," he added, giving a little boop on the tip of your nose before continuing with a flare in his voice. "And that-" that I love you "-that, well, I think everything is going to turn out just fine. After all, I'm the strongest sorcerer alive. I can handle anything you throw at me."

You smiled softly, looking down in your lap, your eyes caught between melancholy and meditative. "I suppose you're right about that..."

"Oh, I know, pretty girl. A little therapy session is nothing compared to a special grade curse," he sniggered. "But that doesn't mean I take it more lightly."

You only hummed in response. Satoru just continued to look at you as you stared forward into the carpet, probably thinking about something to say. Even after you had just finished crying, you looked so lovely. Hell, he could never catch you at a time when you weren't that. Or maybe he just saw you that way no matter what.

When you looked back to him, he prepared himself to listen. Instead, all you said was, "Have you packed a bag for your mission?"

He just laughed. "Yeah, I should probably get on that..."

"I'll... probably just get ready for bed early, then," you stammered. "And... uhm..." You turned to him, breathing in as you brought an arm close to his side, making a motion as if you were going to wrap it around him, before ultimately deciding to rest it on his elbow. "Thank you..."

Satoru gave you a knowing smile. He could tell what you were about to do, but chose to not say anything about it. What was important was that he at least noticed. "Anytime..." With that, he opted to leave you alone while he returned to his room.

He could see you were trying. He knew you were, and he knew it was hard. Your whole life, you had been terrified of messing anything up. Hearing you say that set off something deep in him.

As he packed, he realized he had been stupid, so idiotically fucking stupid. He had the power this whole time, for years, to take you to be with him earlier, yet he never acted on it. And those years that he had figured it was best to keep his distance from out of fear of what you would think of him were years you had spent in literal fear of your father and family. Even if he technically would have had to strike an agreement with your father for an earlier marriage date and there was no guarantee that he would agree to it, he could have at least tried.

Someday, Satoru knew he would have to apologize for it.

___________________________________________________________

Satoru got up to leave at 4:00am for his morning flight to Osaka. Once his bags were securely in the trunk, he got in the backseat as his driver took off.

He immediately noticed the container already in the middle seat, a sticky-note on it with your perfect cursive written in blue pen:

Couldn't fall asleep last night, so I made these for you.

- (Y/N)

Satoru grinned, lifting off the cover to be greeted by the smell of fresh, mouthwatering butter cookies. As expected, they tasted just as good too.

He took out his phone, taking a quick selfie with one of the cookies in his mouth, and sending it you with his thanks.

For good measure, he also sent you Suguru's number, saying that if your father came back or if you needed anything that he couldn't get there right away for, you could call Suguru and he would be able to stop over. You texted him back in the middle of his flight, glad that he liked the cookies and letting him know you would call Suguru if the need arises.

A few hours later, you sent him a picture of yourself smiling in the garden, hand marking a page in one of your new romance novels as you sat on your usual bench between the cherry trees.

Satoru made it his lockscreen in a heartbeat.

___________________________________________________________

This mission was by far the hardest he had ever had, and not because of the curses themselves.

Normally, Satoru would repeat the same thing throughout a mission week: wake up, go investigate the site of a supposed curse, find it easily, beat it with no sweat, spend the rest of his day sightseeing and buying food to splurge on back at his hotel suite, and then pass out.

However, this was the first mission he had ever spent away from you, which made the seven days ahead feel like a year. As much as he wanted to to finish all the curses off and go home, he knew that he had to take it easy and let his cursed energy replenish each day for a possible worst case scenario. Not to mention, the longer he was out, the more he was likely to get paid if it made it seem like he was actually trying.

Needless to say, Satoru did text you a few times throughout the day to check on you, seeing what you were up to and how you were entertaining yourself. You both would occasionally send photos back and forth. Satoru would send you a selfie of himself with a thumbs up and a defeated curse, and you would reply with whatever you were doing at the moment.

Because of your photo exchanges, he now had a small album in his phone titled Wifey (^ω^). His favorite so far was actually a video you sent of you playing the grand piano in one of the few estate galleries. He would play it over and over before bed, not to listen to the Debussy piece (thought you did a marvelous job playing it), but to watch you as your fingers floated across the keys with a pleasant, satisfied smile on your face.

He was imagining that face now as he was laying in bed, waiting for exhaustion to overtake him. He wished he could reach into his phone screen, brush the curve of your lips with his fingertips, trace along your eyelashes with his thumbs, and place kiss after kiss on your forehead until he got that smile of yours to come out.

Better yet, Satoru wished you were right here next to him.

He wished he could pull you close to him. He already knew your body would fit perfectly against his. Your head would rest against the crook of his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He wouldn't leave any inch of your face untouched by kisses, especially those delicate lips, the same lips he had to try his best not to stare at when you spoke, but would catch sneaky glimpses of...

They always looked so soft, and he knew they would feel that way against his own. He thought about what it would be like to kiss you for the first time, how shy and nervous you would be, but that is what would make it so much more enjoyable. He would guide you through it, one hand tangled gently in your hair while the other squeezed your waist closer to him.

And the two of you would lay there, the only sounds being the ones you exchanged between one another and the slight rustling of the sheets. Maybe if he got far enough, he would test the waters a little, barely teasing your lips with his tongue as his hands would start roaming against the silky fabric of that lavender nightgown he thought and a little too often, and then-

Satoru groaned, now staring up at the ceiling. He ran his hands over his face once, twice. He tried to think of anyone or anything else...

Nope. His cock was still hard in his boxers.

"Fuck," he seethed, pulling down his waistband. He was painfully hard. And all because he thought about kissing you-

He immediately drew his hands away, letting the waistband go with a snap. No, he shouldn't. He shouldn't. Even if you were married to him, he told you he would be your friend. Nothing more, nothing less... unless you wanted to.

And frankly, Satoru couldn't even tell if you wanted him, not that he would demand or expect you to, of course. He never wanted to come off as the guy that felt they deserved your affections just because he was nice to you. He just... wanted to express his love and attraction as platonically as possible.

Even if that meant going through the rest of your lives remaining this way: living in the same house, sharing the same income, spoiling one another, going to each other for anything and everything and providing a shoulder to cry on...

God, the lines felt blurry, even if they were straightforward: married by status, friends by relationship. He'll keep it that way, and he'd never beat his dick to any of his friends.

Granted... he's never been attracted to any of his friends the way he's been attracted to you. He's never been attracted to anyone the way he's attracted to you.

To him, you were so much more than a body, a hookup for whenever he wanted to get laid and that he could discard when he was finished. He didn't want a friends-with-benefits situation either. He wanted all of you.

Satoru turned over with a sigh, burying his face in the pillow as he cursed himself and his stupidly horny brain, which was something he usually didn't mind. But when it's now starting to think about you in this context...

The reason it probably felt so wrong was because you were so innocent. Hell, you blushed and shied away from the prospect of him with just his shirt off. And he understood what the jujustu community expected, what you expected: for the two of you to produce an heir. But he couldn't care less. To hell with the Gojo bloodline if it meant he was going to have to defile you to appease someone else.

But then again, there's no saying that you didn't want him either...

Fuck. And it's not like he couldn't see the effect he had on you. The way you would smile and flush nervously whenever he teased you, whenever he called you pretty girl. He loved calling you that, almost as much as he liked calling you by your name. (Y/N).

"Fuck... (Y/N)." Satoru turned over and reached his hand into his boxers. He was caving, but just for tonight. Just for tonight, to get the edge off.

He raised his hand briefly to spit in it before bringing his hand back down and hissing at the amount of pre that was already leaking. With a shaky groan, he wrapped his palm around the tip and dragged down slowly.

What if this was your hand instead of his. You would be so shy, at least, maybe at first, before you got comfortable. He would coax you through it, telling you how good you were doing and praising you from how good your perfect hands felt. He'd show you everything. Where he was sensitive, what movements and actions felt the best...

Oh, but what about you.

If you were any other girl, he would have taken your outfits as you trying to entice him with your gorgeous curves. He would've fell for it, dragged you to his room, and ripped those cute dresses and tights to shreds in order to admire those curves properly before he fucked your brains out.

But he could never do that to you, not unless that's what you wanted. He was prepared to do anything for you, of course, but with what he felt for you, what he yearned to do, was to make love to you.

He wanted to make love to you gently, slowly, show you exactly what he was feeling in the most physical way possible. He needed to protect you, make sure nothing would ever hurt you or cause you any discomfort.

He would get all that tempting skin of yours on display for him and put his lips all over it, worshipping you, listening to all those cute noises you would make. He'd run his tongue over your breasts, sucking on them and marking them as his own, before moving down and down-

His hands would push your succulent thighs up to your chest to give him a full view of your sweet cunt, just before he ate you like the tasty little dessert you were. He'd prep you with his mouth and fingers, make you cream a few times to get you all pliant for him-

And that's when he would descend on you, working you through the pain with sensual words and even more sensual touches. He'd get you to take as much as you could, as much as you wanted, because he would be all yours. You would finally belong to each other.

He would be assured of that with each moan and whimper he drew from your throat as he worked you to orgasm, crying out his name over and over- Satoru, Satoru, Satoru- until...

Satoru spilled his cum into his hand with a low mewl of your name. His breaths slowed, one after the other, as the haze of his orgasm, the hardest orgasm he'd had in a while, faded to a quiet thrum in his veins.

He shouldn't have done that. If you had found out about this, he knew you'd probably be disgusted with him.

Or just maybe... maybe you'd feel the same. Somehow.

Satoru was hard again.

___________________________________________________________

tags: @leonora13x @cole-silas @feeiry @mysuperrainbow @tw0fvced @emptybrain01 @xixiwang @drilled-brain @lvieee @xxkoyukixx @we-loveebony @sereniteav @ilovecoyotepeterson10 @baby--vera @jebemticeluporodicu @louannfox

#isawritesshit #jjk #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk angst #the color blue #female reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #jjk x reader #arranged marriage #forced marriage #geto suguru #suguru geto #anime

[makkir0ll]

you finally turn in your essay you breathe a sigh of relief. but that feeling is soon gone when you check the time and see that it's 11 pm.

you look at the windows nearby and see that it's pitch black, and you check your surroundings and there are very few people left. it's finals season and the library is no stranger for students to be pulling all-nighters trying to study or turn in their projects at the last minute.

you close your laptop and pack up your stuff and go to head out when you look outside the door and you see a weird man outside, smoking something that smelt absolutely disgusting. you felt a pit of anxiety grow in your stomach because this is the only way out and any of the other exits would sound the emergency alarm. you take deep breath and decide to walk out (dumbest decision ever) and you're hit with a "hey there pretty girl, what are you doing here?" from the creep and you immediately run back into the library.

you open your contacts and go to the one labeled tobio❤️ and click on it, calling him. you knew he was probably sleeping, but you didn't really want to sleep at the library.

he picks up "hello?" his voice is groggy and laced with sleep. you start to feel bad knowing you woke him up.

"tobio?" you start. "hey i'm sorry for waking you up but there's this creep outside the library and i just-"

"i'm on my way." he cuts you off. you hear some shuffling in the background. "give me like ten minutes and i'll be there". his house is a thirty minute walk from the university library. "just wait inside okay? don't worry."

"it's okay tobio you can take your time. i'll be waiting. i love you"

"i love you too." and he hangs up. you put your phone back into your pocket and you can't help the guilty feeling that begins to swirl in the pit of your stomach. you know he has a busy schedule with balancing volleyball and school and you soon begin to regret your decision. but there was no stopping him he was probably halfway to the library by now.

you're sitting on one of the armchairs with your phone in your hand, mindlessy scrolling on social media when you feel a hand on your head, you look up and see your dark hair boyfriend. he seems out of breath and his hair a mess. he's still in pajamas, you can tell because he's wearing a stained hoodie underneath his puffer.

"lets go" he says with a small smile.

you stand up and he follows next to you as you walk out the building. when you see the man coming to approach you again you feel his arm wrap around your shoulders and pull you into his chest. you can hear his heartbeat.

"oh? back again pretty girl-"

"hey man fuck off alright." kageyama scowls at him, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest as he begins to walk faster. leaving the creep behind.

once you guys are a safe distance away he begins to loosen his grip on you but never moves his arm from your shoulder.

"i'm sorry if i woke you up." you start to say.

"why?"

"i don't know, i guess it's because you have such a busy schedule. and i know how much you care about your health and that stuff-"

"but i care about you more." he says bluntly, dark blue eyes staring into yours. "i mean i would much rather be tired at tommorows practice than have you be unsafe." he says with his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. yours do the same at his words.

you continue your walk back to his apartment. he says that after waking him up you owe this to him. of course you can't deny when he offers to give you his t shirt, and when you pull the covers up to your chest and feel his hand snake around your waist and pull you close to him, nose nuzzling into your neck you hear him whisper.

"don't ever worry about bothering me if something like this happens again." he presses a kiss to your neck and you turn around to cup his face and kiss his lips softly. you see the moonlight illuminate his features as you pull back, his eyes half lidded with a smile on his face.

"okay, tobio. goodnight" you say smiling. resting your head onto his chest as he pulls you closer.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #hq imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! #hq fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu imagines #hq fanfic #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #kageyama tobio #kageyama fluff #kageyama x reader #this was rotting in my drafts so enjoy

[shadowskulls-blog]

Yk given how tall carmilla carmine is why do I imagine a 4’10 reader being either bratty or just annoying carmilla *they just have gremlin energy* or her being protective of them and don’t want them to get hurt and the only way she can handle r is by putting on a high place and can’t get down *the top of the fridge/kitchen cabinet is offically r’s spot*

😂😂😂 and the funniest thing is I am that height and I can see her just having a “I’m done” expression and just put someone there and walk away winning the argument

Sup, I'm back and now have motivation again, and I was scrolling through my inbox and found this, and I wanted to answer it, but instead of doing a story, I'm gonna give headcanons instead. I've never written headcannons, but I read them a lot, so yeah.

Carmilla Carmine x Short Reader (headcannons)

(Sfw) and (Nsfw) headcannons

One thing is for sure the reader has gremlin energy. Being this small and rather full of energy person. Carmilla loves it. It brings her spirits up every time you come by and make jokes

I don't know her cannon height, but I'd imagine it's in the 8 foot scale. Because tall women are very sexy. So she'd definitely pick you up from time to time. Not a whole lot, but sometimes.

Half the times when she does is to either put you on the fridge or a high place to calm you down or when you're being annoying.

Annoying in the sense where you couldn't stop making sex jokes, so she put you up there so she didn't get too distracted from her work or you two were arguing.

I can only imagine the reader going, "wha- Cammy! What you doing?! Carmilla! You can't leave me up here! Carmilla, please! Come back!" While trying not to fall off the fridge so you didn't break something.

And the entire time Carmilla just has the most "I'm done" expression while placing you up there and walking out of the room

And I can only imagine that 40% of time, Carmilla forgets she put you up there and Clara or Odette walk in to grab a drink and you're just up there, having the most scared or tired look on your face and going

"Please, get your mom so she can get me down, and so we can go to bed"

Being very small. Carmilla would be very protective. Making sure you were close by her at all times and also making sure you were with her. While also making sure to be gentle with you. But she also gives you angelic guns to protect yourself.

Lord knows you're deadly with a gun

While you two are in bed, she will always have you wrapped in her arms, her giant hands making it feel like you're wrapped in a cacoon, or it either looks like a koala hugging a tree. You don't even need a blanket because you'll always be wrapped around Carmilla

(Nsfw)

While having sex Carmilla will try her best to be gentle, but it fails most of the time. Sometimes, she'll go too hard or accidentally scratch you a bit.

Carmilla is most definitely a top, but you have to be the top most of the time. Because if you don't, I can only imagine the after shock. But, Carmilla is also a power bottom.

Either way, you're getting railed every time.

The reader is definitely a scratcher. So Carmilla's back or anywhere the reader was grabbing is probably scratched a bit.

(I like physical touch a lot, and that's the only thing you're getting about me)

So the reader is a hugger a bunch, hugging Carmilla's legs, body, neck. You just like wrapping your arms around her, honestly like me

The aftercare is her being very gentle while holding you close. Most of the time, you both will fall asleep right after, holding each other or take a bath together.

So yeah, I don't know how to do headcannons since I've never written for them. Overall I just say what I want to and don't give two fucks. I'm just here to supply thristy bastards like myself.

So, I hope that was a good first try. Also, again, I am so very sorry for not posting. Life just likes to fucks me over but, it does for everyone so this is the last time I'll bitch about my life

#hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #carmilla carmine x reader #carmilla carmine x fem reader #hazbin hotel x reader

[poison-demon]

Cuddling times... (Fluff!🌸)

Cuddling up to a very tired, yet clingy aether; seems easy but boy is it hard-

TW: None! Just fluff (No paimon in this either wooooo)

I was bored so i decided to write something that will make me feel comfortable looking back to read it :3

GN!Reader

You came home after a mission to find a very clingy and tried Aether tackling you to the couch; usually this would be a good thing if it weren't for you needing to use the restroom.

"Aether, Darling, you know I love you but could you please let me go? I'll be back i swear." You said to your charming loving boyfriend aether that was cuddling you.

You swore you could almost hear him say no, you chuckled to yourself before trying to untangle yourself from your clingy wet golden retriever

Keyword: Tried

Aether just held onto you tighter before saying something you could quite make out. "Aether, hun, I really need to use the restroom; if you let me go I'll give you all of my love when I come back m'kay?" You said in a loving tone.

After he heard that he let you go, sat up slowly, and rubbed his eyes.

"Fine, you better be back in 5 minutes though or I won't let you go for a whole hour" Aether said in an almost needy voice. Of course you paid no attention to it and just got up to use the restroom.

When you came out of the restroom he practically climbed on you like a kola who found their favorite branch to sleep on. You could only laugh a tiny bit before dragging him and yourself to your shared bedroom.

"I'm back aether, don't worry I'm not going anywhere for the rest of the day" you said as you softly played with his hair and giving him a few kisses here and there.

Soon you drifted off into dreamland with him.

Just wanted to write a quick little fluff cuddle story as I haven't written anything in a hot minute, hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

#aether x reader #aether x gn reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin x reader #aether cuddles

[rafesbby]

Right in Front of Me

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!kook!reader

Warnings: language, slight-cheating, kissing

Word Count: 1.0k+

Summary: Rafe and you have been best friends for as long as you can remember. What happens when one night he confesses his love for you?

A/N: Here's a simple one to get back into the swing of things. I'm gonna try and write more :)

----------

"Don't worry, if it's going horribly just text me and I'll save you." You chuckle as you watch Rafe, your best friend, get ready for his date.

"Can you save me even if it's going good?" Rafe replies, shooting you a smirk.

"No, tonight's a very important night for you. If this goes well, your days as a third wheel to me and Topper are over." You smile at him while you help adjust his tie.

Rafe and his date were going to River's Edge, a well-known and fancy restaurant that was popular amongst the kooks. You had suggested it when he said he had a date and he agreed.

"I regret saying yes to all of this." Rafe grimaces. "I'm putting way too much effort into it."

"Well, I think Nora will appreciate it." You look Rafe up and down. "She's one lucky girl."

"Yeah yeah, whatever." Rafe rolls his eyes. "Don't forget to save me later."

----------

It was around 8:30pm when your phone went off, no doubt that it was Rafe. You set down the book you were reading and grab your phone. Rafe's name along with a brief message was visible.

Rafe- save me

Y/n- that bad?

Rafe- save me now

Rafe- please

Y/n- okay I got you

You can't help but giggle as you dial Rafe's number. You really weren't expecting to have to rescue him this early, the date had only been going for an hour. When Rafe picks up you can hear a relieved exhale.

"Hey, Rafe. I know you're super busy right now, but I really need you to come home." You say jokingly.

"Shit, I'm actually in the middle of something. Will you be okay by yourself?" Rafe's acting sounds so believable you can't help but roll your eyes.

"No, I'm afraid I really need you." You can hear Rafe apologize and his chair scoot across the floor.

"Okay, I'll be right there." Rafe says rushed as he hangs up immediately.

----------

Fifteen minutes later Rafe is sitting on your bed spilling all the details about his unsuccessful date.

"Poor Rafe." You climb behind him on the bed and start rubbing his shoulders. "I'm sorry tonight was so weird. I thought she would be a good one." You frown.

Rafe's back leans into you as you continue his massage. From this angle you can see the soft smile on his lips and his closed eye lids.

"There are no good ones." Rafe groans. "The only good one is taken."

Your hands pause on his shoulders. His eyes open and glance up at you.

"What do you mean?" You ask. The mood in the room quickly shifts and Rafe sits up.

"Y/n...I'm tired of these stupid fucking dates every weekend when the girl I really want is right in front of me." Rafe turns around so he's facing you.

"Rafe, you know I'm with Topper. You know I would never do anything to hurt him." A panic swallows you whole.

"I'm not asking you to. I just want to know if you feel it too." Rafe brings his hand up to your cheek.

"Of course I do, Rafe. But that doesn't mean I don't love Topper, because I do." Rafe's hand drops away from your face and he looks away.

"Do you really think you belong with him?" Rafe's tone starts to sound angry. "You guys are horrible for each other."

"Rafe, where is this coming from?"

"I love you, Y/n. And I'm not going to apologize for it." When Rafe stands up, so do you.

He's waiting for you to say something. But you don't know what to say in this moment. You and Topper have been dating for almost two years. But you couldn't deny the attraction and feelings you felt towards Rafe.

Rafe reaches up and tucks a strand of your fallen hair behind your ear.

"Please say something. Anything. I just want to know what you're thinking." Both of Rafe's hands are cupped around your face, forcing you to look at him.

"I love you too." As soon as the words leave your mouth, you close your eyes. You hear Rafe's sigh of relief and then feel his forehead against your own.

"Y/n, thank fucking God. I don't know what I would have done if I didn't hear you say that." His thumbs sweep back and forth against your cheeks, his forehead still connected with yours, and his lips so close you could feel his breath.

A few seconds later and you feel Rafe's lips softly reach your own. He's gentle at first, almost hesitate as if to see if you would push away and resist. But you don't. You couldn't. You secretly have been waiting for this moment for years. The kiss becomes more fervent, more needy. Rafe's tongue meets yours and you get lost in the feel of his mouth on yours.

Your hands reach up to tug at his hair while Rafe's start to travel down your body. When he reaches the top of your shorts and begins to pull down, you step away.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this." Topper's face appears in your head. The guilt going straight to your stomach. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Hey, it's okay." Rafe pulls you back in, wrapping his arms around your body. "I get it." He gives you a reassuring smile.

"Thank you for understanding." You rest your head on his chest, breathing in his sweet, intoxicating scent. Rafe kisses your forehead before picking you up and placing you on your bed.

"I should go. You need rest." Rafe begins to leave but in this moment all you want is his company.

"Rafe?" He stops and looks at you, his eyebrow raised in question as you continue. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

He smiles and shakes his head before making his way back and throwing himself on the bed.

"You don't have to ask me twice."

You reach up and switch the lamp off. Then you scoot closer to Rafe so you guys are facing each other.

"Thank you, Rafe." You kiss him one final time before snuggling into his neck. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, my love." His finger rubs gentle circles on your arm as you drift off to sleep. "I love you so much."

#obx #outerbanks #rafe cameron #rafe #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe imagine #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n

[dreamerbouquet]

FAMILY

Dean Winchester x Sister reader, Sam Winchester x Sister reader

SUMMARY: Y/n, returns to the bunker from school upset. Sam notices this and the brothers talk to her.

Word Count: 1.900

You sadly walked into the shelter and started down the stairs. Sam and Dean found a school near the shelter and enrolled you there to complete your high school education. School went on summer vacation today and you took your report card and returned to the shelter. You were distracted and didn't see your brothers sitting in the library until they greeted you.

Dean gave you a quick glance and a nod, then went back to work. Sam continued to look at you, "Hey kiddo," he said, and then noticing you were sluggish, he put down his book and sat up straighter.

"Hey." You gave a short greeting and moved to go to your room, but Sam's voice stopped you. "Y/n? Can you come here," you sighed heavily and slowly turned and started walking towards the library. Dean looked at the two of you carefully when he heard Sam's question.

Sam gave you his full attention, “are you okay, honey?” asked.

"Yes I'm fine Sam, I'm just tired I'm going to go to my room." you said quickly and when you turned to go back to your room, Sam stood up and gently grabbed you by the arm, stopping you from leaving. "Wait, you didn't even have class today kid, what's the problem?"

You looked down at the ground briefly before looking at Sam, "I'm really fine Sam, like I said, I feel tired." You said and hoped he wouldn't push you further. You didn't want to talk right now because you felt like you would cry right away if you started talking.

Dean said from where he was sitting, "Luckily you're on summer vacation bunny, you can rest as much as you want." said.

You looked at him, smiled slightly and fixed your bag, which was about to fall off your shoulder, and went to your room.

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's attitude and watched you walk away. Dean looked at Sam who was standing there, "Come on Sam, we have to finish this, come here." say it, bored with research.

Sam sat down and picked up his book, "There's something wrong with her, Dean."

"She said he was tired," Dean replied, glaring at Sam.

"So you believed that too? Dean, you know she's hiding his feelings." Sam snapped.

Dean leaned back in his chair and started to look towards the hallway where your bedrooms were, "What could have happened? She was looking forward to summer vacation. Did you ask her about her report card? Maybe it wasn't what she expected." he asked Sam.

Sam, "Maybe, I'll go try and talk to her." said and stood up and walked away.

You entered your room, threw your bag on the floor and sat on your bed. You looked around blankly for a while and thought about what your friends had told you. They talked about the things they planned to do with their families during summer vacation and looked very happy. Unlike you, they all had mothers and fathers. You also had a family, not a family consisting of parents and children, but you had brothers who loved you and always protected you. You still wanted your parents to be alive, to be a normal family.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a knock on the door and pulled yourself together. "Y/n, can I come?" When you heard Sam's voice, you realized you couldn't avoid this any longer and reluctantly answered him. "Yes."

Sam slowly opened the door and walked in with a smile and sat next to her. "You didn't show us your report card, so if it's not what you expected, that's okay, we can handle that. It's not that big of a deal." he told you gently. When you looked at him, you saw that he was looking at you with affection. You smiled at the fact that he thought it was your report card that you were upset about, and you took it out of your bag and handed it to him.

Sam took the report card you handed him and his eyebrows slowly rose when he saw your grades, “Y/n, this is great,” he said in a lively tone, but then when he saw you were still upset and your gaze was on the floor, he realized that wasn't the problem and placed the report card on the bed. He tucked your hair behind your ear and tilted his head so he could see your face. "Honey, why are you upset? Whatever it is, you can tell me about it. It's okay." He said it with understanding and kindness.

You knew he didn't like you keeping your feelings to yourself, but you didn't want to upset them either. When you turned your gaze to your brother, you saw him looking at you with an expression on his face waiting for you to speak, and you began to speak slowly. “You know we went on vacation today and,” you paused and turned your gaze back to the floor. As always, Sam put his hand on your back and started patting you to express that he understood you. You continued talking without looking at him. "My friends talked about things they would do with their families this summer, places they would go with their parents, etc." When you felt like crying, you remained silent and swallowed hard to relieve the pain in your throat.

"I'm sorry, honey," Sam said as he continued to rub your back. He knew you were still very sensitive about this. You caught the sadness in his voice and quickly looked at him, "No Sammy please don't be upset, I didn't mean to upset you-" Sam cut you off, afraid you would shut down, "Okay it's okay Y/n, I'm fine just keep explaining." he said and smiled softly at you.

Meanwhile, when Dean came towards your room to check on you when Sam didn't return, he overheard your conversation and started eavesdropping on you in the hallway.

“You know, we never went on vacation with them,” you laughed bitterly, “My friends at school always talk about things they did with their families, and I can't even remember their faces without a picture. Sam, they're so absent from my memories that I can't even miss them. I just feel their absence, that's all." You looked at Sam with tear filled eyes, “This hurts.” you said quietly. You couldn't stand the urge to cry anymore and turned your head to your lap and started crying.

Sam's heart broke when he heard you say "Come here," and he pulled you closer. You let him hug you and continued to cry. “It's okay darling, just let it go.”

Dean, after listening to you talk, slowly walked into your room when he heard you crying. You felt the empty side of your bed tilt slightly and you turned to see Dean sitting there. You wiped your tears and sniffled, trying to compose yourself. They have never left you alone until this age, they have always been more than a brother to you. Now you felt guilty for doing this. "I am sorry." You said and bowed your head.

"Hey," Dean said gently and took his hand. “What are you apologizing for, Y/n?”

"I upset you, you didn't spend enough time with them and now I have no right to do this to you." You said without looking at your siblings.

"Darling, can you look at me?" Dean asked. You swallowed and slowly lifted your head to look at him. "You are not hurting us by saying these things, don't think like that. On the contrary, we are happy that you talked to us, you don't need to keep these things to yourself. We are your family, Y/n, if there is a problem, we will solve it together as always." Dean held your face in his handsand continued speaking, "Mom and dad couldn't be part of our lives, but we will never leave each other, Y/n. Yes, we can never replace a mom and dad, but we are always with you." Your eyes filled with tears and you nodded. When he smiled at you gently, you saw his eyes fill with tears and you hugged him tightly. "Thank you."

“It's okay kiddo, it's okay,” Dean said, returning your hug.

You turned to Sam and thanked him too. He looked at you and, “No need to apologize or thank you Y/n, you can talk to us about anything, no matter what.” said. You smiled, "I'm usually the one explaining things, you never talk about your feelings." you said.

Dean, "Well, I guess we've grown up a bit." he said in a playful tone.

You made a face, "What's the point, we can talk about our feelings no matter what age we are, right Sam?"

Sam, looked at Dean with an approving expression, then turned to you and, "You're so right, bunny." he replied.

You knew that Dean was the one who hid his feelings the most out of all of you. You thought that he had made this a habit when he was protecting Sam and you when he was little. While he was taking care of you, someone had to take care of him, too. Like every child, he needed attention and protection. When such topics came up, he always changed the subject. He quickly stood up and extended his hand towards you, "Now, can I see this report card?" he said, more like a father than a brother.

Instead, Sam picked up the report card from where he had put it and handed it to her. When Dean continued to stare at your report card strangely for more than moment, you realized he wasn't understanding anything and started laughing. Sam rolled his eyes and got up from the bed, taking the report card from Dean's hand. "Hey! I was still examining it." Dean snapped.

"Dean, it's obvious that you don't understand anything, you don't need to examine it that much. In summary, she did well and her report card is fine." he said, giving you a proud look.

Dean smiled proudly and ruffled your hair, "Good my girl." he said.

You quickly pushed his hand away, "Dean! What am I, a dog?" you said, irritated by his action. He continues to tease you, "Oh, you're not just a dog, you're a puppy." said.

You kicked his leg with your foot and he started groaning in pain and rubbing his leg. "Hey! I taught you how to kick like that, you can't use it on me!"

"You're going to get hurt worse if you keep messing with me, Dean Winchester." You said with victory.

Sam looked at you and nodded to himself. "C'mon, stop it," he interrupted, "How about we go out and eat something? I think we should celebrate Y/n's success."

Your eyes lit up when you heard the offer and you jumped up and down and, "Let's eat cake, let's eat cake!" You started to say.

“Okay, today is your day and it will be whatever you say it will be,” Sam said. "Let's go." He put his arm around your shoulder and started walking out of your room with you. Once you left the room, Dean paused for a moment, thinking about what you said about your parents and swallowing hard.

"DEAN, COME ON!" He pulled himself together when he heard your voice and as he walked out of your room, a lively voice called out, "I'M COMING, PUPPY!" he replied.

"DEAN!!"

#supernatural imagine #dean winchester × sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #winchester sister!reader #spn #supernatural #fandom #y/n winchester #4 #j2

[bratphilia]

overtime (m. schmidt x reader)

request: "Hey ! Just discovered your account and I love your writtings ! I was wondered if you could write a smut and romantic thing with mike ? I dont have any specific context and all its up to you ! <3"

note: ty sm for showing love to my work and for requesting!! i finally was able to write something actually sweet with mike for the first time lmao.

pairing: mike schmidt x reader

tags: small age gap, fingering, missionary

after putting abby to sleep, you fell asleep yourself in front of the tv. you couldn't help it! it was a long night of cooking spaghetti for abby (and ordering pizza, per her request), helping her build a fort, and coloring with her inside it. abby's a sweet kid, but babysitting has always tired you out in general. plus her older brother, your boss, started working the graveyard shift at his new job, so it would be unfeasible for you to not go to sleep during your time spent over there.

you woke up to the chair next to you being shifted in, and open your eyes to see mike sitting there, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. you feel embarrassed that you fell asleep on the job and quickly explain yourself. "i'm so sorry for falling asleep, i was just—"

he looks at you. "no need to apologize. i don't expect you to wait all night long for me."

awkward silence fills the air. well, that settles that. god, he's so cute, you think, even all stressed out and with bags under his eyes. he's also been nothing but kind to you since the two of you met. always concerned with how you're doing, how school is holding up, and just generally about your wellbeing. you try to do reciprocate as it's obvious mike doesn't have a lot of people in his life doing the same for him.

you're the first to break the silence. "uhm, there's leftover pizza in the fridge... you know, in case you want any..." you comment, not quite sure what else to say to him.

"oh! thank you," he says. "did abby ask you to..."

"make her spaghetti and order pizza? yes, she absolutely did."

both you and mike laugh. "i'll make sure i can pay you back for that. you really didn't have to—"

"mike," you interrupt, "seriously, don't worry about it. i understand your situation and i want to help you."

mike looks at you gratefully, almost lovingly.

"y'know—"

"so, i should really—"

the both of you talk at the same time. "oh, sorry, you go."

you smile gently. "no, you go. i was just going to say i should hit the road."

he runs a hand through his hair again, eyes darting across the room bashfully. "well i — uh, i just wanted to say thank you for all you do for abby... and for me. it means a lot. you're very... kind."

your smile widens at his awkward choice of words, but it deeply touches you that he appreciates you. you place a hand on top of his. "of course, mike. i'm always here for you."

mike looks at your hand and inhales deeply through his nose. "will you — will you stay for just a little while longer?"

before you know it he's on top of you on the couch, slamming his middle and ring finger inside you while you bite back moans. "gotta be nice and quiet for me, sweetheart. can't wake abby up, okay? or else i gotta stop and neither of us want that," he whispers to you sweetly.

instead of letting you respond, mike presses his lips against yours in a deep kiss while he continues to finger you. you break apart to quietly call his name, letting him know that you're close.

much to your dismay, he pulls his fingers out before you can come. "mike, please," you whisper.

"please, what, honey?" he teases.

you squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve the tension in your core. "please fuck me already."

mike presses his forehead against yours, breathing sharply as he slowly pushes inside you, inch by inch. you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out as your pussy swallows his hard length.

as he begins to move, he also clearly struggles to keep his noises to a minimum. as a solution, he envelopes you in a kiss as he moves inside you. his pace gradually increases from gentle to faster. the feeling is absolutely delicious.

he can feel your pussy spasming around him and his own dick pulsing too. he uses the hand caging you in on the couch to hold yours as he continues to fuck you.

"feel so good around me, baby," he whispers hotly. "you have no idea what you — ngh — do to me. every time i see you i always think about fucking you like this."

"mike," you moan quietly. his words only encouraged you.

his name becomes a whispered chant falling from your lips as he fucks you through your own orgasm. he's sure to pull out and come on your stomach while he pumps himself.

mike wipes the sweat off of his forehead and sits up so your legs lay over his lap. "sorry for pushing you into overtime," he jokes.

you give a small laugh. "no worries. it was my pleasure."

mike shakes his head at your dumb joke. then his smile fades and he looks at you seriously. "is it... too early to say that i love you?"

you lean up and meet his lips in a kiss as your answer.

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf smut #fnaf movie #fnaf x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader

[too-much-tma-stuff]

This idea sort of burst out of me like Alien so it's unedited. There will probably be more.

In short, Cas picks up on the fact that Danny is pregnant at a Wayne Gala and have the right idea but the wrong context.

Masterpost

------

Danny was barely holding it together and really he had been for a long time. It had sort of been fun and games at first when he became a hero. Sure his accident had hurt like hell but he'd sort of repressed that and for real? Lunch Lady? Box Ghost? Even Skulker was sort of a joke and he hasn't actually felt threatened. Sneaking around behind his parents backs and sneaking out with his friends had been fun. It had all felt like a game at first, and then somewhere in there things had gotten very real.

He'd known he couldn't count on his family to protect him but they couldn't even see Vlad was a threat. And he felt like he had lost the last of his innocence when he saw the clone Vlad had made of him melt. He hasn't been in time, he had panicked and he had only managed to save a couple by taking them into his own body to shield their still forming cores. Ellie and... should Danny name the other one or would he name himself when he was ready?

He kept touching his stomach over where he could feel the little balls of his mirror children hovering just below his own core. He was so tired all the time as they relied on his energy, he was eating more then ever and he knew his family was worried. He didn't think he could hide this and he couldn't predict when they would emerge. What if they did in front of his parents? They definitely wouldn't react well. And Vlad kept trying to use this against Danny. Promising to look after him and the babies if he was really insisting on carrying them, as if Danny could rip those tiny 'lives' out of himself now.

And no matter how many times he tried to tell his parents that Vlad was bad news, that he creeped Danny out and made him feel unsafe they wouldn't listen! Dad didn't even hear him and mom made sympathetic noises and then told him to bear with it for Jack's sake because he didn't have many friends.

So of course when Vlad had asked if 'Daniel' could accompany him to a gala in Gotham his father had agreed! Even his mother had agreed when Vlad promised it would be educational and safe! And here Danny was, hanging on by a fucking thread in a suit that felt uncomfortably tight around his middle, having just escaped being paraded around as Vlad heir like a particularly expensive watch. He was behind the snack table having piled a plate as high as he could and scarfing it down before Vlad could find him again and scold him for being rude. He hadn't noticed yet that a family of dark haired socialites kept giving him worried looks. A young woman with dark eyes signing frantically to a man with blue eyes and a dimpled frown.

It was the man who slid up carefully next to Danny trying not to startle since he seemed to have genuine food aggression.

"Yeesh kid you seem like you're starving! All those fancy Hors d'oeuvres are fun but not very cooling and I feel like I'd be a poor host if I didn't offer you something more filling! If you'll come me to the kitchen I'm sure our family butler would be happy to whip something up for you?" The man said with an inviting some that did nothing to sooth the way Danny's hackles raised instinctively.

He was about to say no on reflex when he spotted Vlad heading towards them with an expression like a thunder cloud. Danny's back went ridged and the other man followed his gaze with a frown. "You know what ya that sounds great let's go now!" Danny said dropping his half full plate on a nearby tray and dragged the stranger away with him as Vlad shouted after him.

"Daniel come back this instant! Unhand mister Wayne! Daniel this is unacceptable!"

'Mr. Wayne' took over leading them and spirited Danny through a back door as a bubbly blonde intercepted Vlad and a small woman slid in behind them like a shadow.

"So, Danial I assume?" The man asked, amusement crinkling around his eyes as Danny grimaced.

"Mr. Wayne I assume?" Danny returned, unaware of the way one arm was protectively wrapped around his stomach, but the girl noticed. It was Dicks turn to grimace.

"Okay ya, I go by Dick. What about you?"

"Danny," he said not reacting to the name, he'd heard far stranger. "And what about you?" He asked Cas, startling Dick a little because she was doing her 'shadow thing' and not many people would have noticed her.

"That's Cas, she has a hard time talking sometimes," Dick explained as Cas materialized and gave Danny a reassuring smile and wave.

The teen harrumphed but he did follow them down to the kitchen where Alfred was drinking a cup of tea, staying well clear of the foolishness upstairs. "Ah, hello young masters," Alfred he said, glancing between the three with a raised brow. Though the two who knew him could see the way his expression softened when Danny shrunk in on himself. "What can I do for you?"

"Hey Alfred do we have any leftovers from dinner or something filling we can whip up fast? Danny here is too hungry for just the fancy font for upstairs." Dick asked cheerfully.

Alfred raised his eyebrows again and looked at Cas who was standing behind Danny. Glancing at Danny to make sure he wasn't looking she grimaced then touched her stomach and mimed holding an infant.

Alfred's expression turned stormy for just a moment then smoothed. "Of course we do, Why don't you make our guest comfortable and I'll see what I can do. Do you have any allergies young man?" Alfred asked and Danny shook his head mutely.

"You're the best Alfie!" Dick said, hovering a hand over Danny's shoulder rather then actually touching him as he leas him towards the comfortable breakfast nook.

The boy seemed tight lipped and gaunt, his eyes flicking around them as if he expected a threat to pop up at any time. Dick slipped into the booth across from him. Trying to think of the best way to ask this kid how... why, and who hurt him.

Cas has stayed in the kitchen, but not for long. She came to them with a tray of mugs moments later and slipped into the booth next to Danny. Gently she took his hands and pressed the warm mug unto them. He blinked and focused of it, as if on autopilot he lifted it to his lips, Cas keeping a hand on his elbow to steady him as he drank.

The warm comforting drink, and hand on his arm, presence by his side as Cas slid imperceptibly closet and closer till she was pressed against Danny's shoulder, felt like they were taking him apart from the inside. Thawing out the cold numbness he shielded himself behind. Half way through his tea he glanced up, at the worried blue eyes so like Jazz, so worried and warm.

He put down the mug suddenly as a sob shook his body. Cas wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, cooing comforting wordless little sounds as she let him bury his face into her chest and just sob heaving, exhausting outbursts of repressed emotion.

"Are the babies okay?" She asked and he froze, his breath catching in his throat. She clicked her tongue and rocked him gently. "Okay, okay, not in trouble," she promised.

"They- I don't know, they were so weak, I’m trying, but I don't know if I can keep them alive." Danny sobbed lifting his hands to cover his face.

"The stress can't be helping," Dick pointed out, climbing across the table like it was nothing to sit next to them and rub Danny's back. Danny gave a little hiccupping hysterical laugh. "Do you have support, or like, do you know your options?" He asked awkwardly.

"I'm not getting rid of my babies! I don't care if the man who made them is an obsessive creep who drugged me! I love them they're MINE!" The feral protectiveness seemed to startle Dick even as Cas continued to make soothing sounds.

"Your choice, only yours," she promised. "Have help?"

Danny sniffled and shook his head. "Safe?" Another shake of the head.

"The man who... did this?" Dick asked as delicately as he could. Another hysterical laugh.

"I've tried! I've tried to tell my parents he's a creep, he's dangerous but they don't listen! My dad thinks he hung the fucking stars, mom says he's harmless. They don't believe me! I-I can't tell them about the babies. They'd make me get rid of them or worse! I can't." Danny sobbed and Cas soothed.

"Okay, okay, you don't have to." She promised. "You stay with us, you and babies safe, never have to see him again."

"Ya right. Wait, your serious? What" Danny asked, pulling back and looking at her with wide bloodshot eyes.

"She's very serious young master," Alfred said as he approached making Danny jump. there was a hard set to the old man's jaw and steal in his eyes that left no room for questions as he set a plate of eggs, sausage, and fruit in front of Danny. "Master Bruce has a foster license and is a mandatory reporter. I'm sure once he hears even a fraction of this he will insist you stay. I will prepare a room for you. Am I to assume the man who's shouting demanding your return upstairs is the source of this distress?"

Danny swallowed and nodded, Alfred nodded back and paused to rest a gloved hand gently on Danny's hair before walking away briskly.

"Eat," Cas said, nudging him gently to let go of her. "As much as you want. Still hungry? We raid Tim's secret cereal stash."

"Gasp! You know where it is? You've been holding out on me?!" Dick demanded with exaggerated betrayal and as the two started to banter Danny ate. He was glad of the distraction, of not having the attention on him as he devoured the healthy, and nutritious meal the butler had made for him. It had been a while since he'd had a good home cooked meal, it made his core feel warm and he could feel the two little echoes as his hummed.

The babies were happy too, he didn't believe these people could keep him safe from Vlad really, but this was nice. Maybe he would let them try, get a few more good meals, a respite, and maybe... maybe his parents would finally notice that something was wrong and actually stand up for him?

That was probably wishful thinking but he could hope right? there was no harm in that.

Part 2

#fanfiction #danny phantom #dc x dp #angst #misunderstanding #the bats think Danny is normal pregnant not incubating cores #Vlad is a creep #stalker Vlad #vlad plasmius #dick grayson #cassandra cain #feedback and comments welcome #for some reason it won't let me add a title #I wouldn't really know what to call it anyway

[mariclerc]

Dad duties | cl16

Summary: where you meet an adorable dad and his little girl at the beach. Warning: none, just dad!charles, a little emotional, instant crush and FLUFF, pure fluff.

a/n: Hii, a long time ago I was thinking about doing a story about what Charles would be like as a single dad... Something crazy, I know, but I hope you like it!! Let me know if you want a part two of this <3

Sun gleams off the turquoise water, gentle waves lap at the shore. You walk along the beach, toes sinking into the warm sand. Giggles suddenly catches your attention, you turn to see a little girl, barely a year old, with bright eyes and a head full of messy curls, crawling determinedly towards you. She reaches you, grabbing a handful of your sundress. You smile, kneeling down to her level.

“Hey there, little one. You seem a little bit lost.”

The girl babbles happily, reaching for your sunglasses. You chuckle and gently remove them, placing them on top of your head.

A shadow falls over you. You look up to see a tall, handsome man with kind greenish eyes and sun-streaked hair... He looks slightly flustered.

“Oh god, I'm so sorry, that's my little escape artist Ava, come here to Papa munchkin.” He smiles apologetically.

Ava squeals and reaches for him. He scoops her up effortlessly, her tiny giggles filling the air.

“Don't worry, she's adorable! How old is she?” you asked.

“One year old, going on a hundred!” He winces as Ava grabs a fistful of his hair. You can't help but laugh. “Ouch, sweetie that hurts!” He says and Ava giggles.

“Looks like she has you all wrapped around her little finger.”

“Definitely.” he chuckles.

He introduces himself as Charles, you tell him your name. To your surprise, the conversation flows easily, you learn he's a single dad, the love and devotion evident in his gaze as he talks about Ava. He opens up about his complicated relationship with his ex (Ava's mother), the challenges of dating as a single parent. You listen intently, impressed by his honesty and dedication to his daughter.

“You seem to be doing a great job, Charles. And that's impressive, you know, how hard you work and try to be the best every day for her.” you smile.

Ava snuggles closer to him, burying her face in his neck.

“I manage to do a good job... It's definitely a handful, but she's worth it all.” he smiles.

A comfortable silence settles between you. You steal a glance at him, then quickly look away, cheeks warming. You sense a similar flicker of something unspoken in his eyes.

“Well, maybe I should let you get back to building sandcastles with your princess.” You say with a bit of haste.

“Actually, I was wondering... Would you maybe, I don't know, maybe... Want to grab some ice cream with us sometime? Ava loves company, and frankly, so do I.” He speaks hurriedly.

You feel a flutter in your chest. This unexpected encounter has taken a sweet turn. “I'd love to. Thanks!” you smile.

Ava lets out a delighted squeal, as if sensing the possibility of ice cream, You and Charles giggle at her reaction.

“Great! How about next Saturday? Same place? How does that sound?”

You nod. “Sounds perfect.”

He smiles, you can see how the corners of his eyes wrinkle, something very cute for you. “Perfect... Ehm, here! Write down your number and I'll write down mine.” He says as he takes out his cell phone to give it to you and you take yours out of your beach bag to hand it to him.

You wrote your number on his cell phone with the name of: "y/n the life-saver 🎀". When he finishes he gives you your cell phone back and you see that he has registered himself as: "Charles the handsome dad 😋" you can't help but laugh at the name.

“Well, then I'll write to you to keep in touch... Handsome dad.” You say with a giggle and he blushes.

Ava yawns, nuzzling deeper into his embrace.

“I think someone's getting tired.” you giggle while looking at Ava.

“She probably is. Sand and sunshine can be exhausting for little ones.” He says and then smiles a little. “This was unexpected... But so nice.” he says quietly.

“Yeah, definitely nice!” you say meeting his warm gaze.

A blush creeps up Charles' neck as he finally pulls back slightly.

“See you next Saturday then, Y/N, it was nice to meet you!”

You smile. “It was also nice to meet you both!”

He nods, a goodbye lingering in his eyes. Charles walks away, cradling a sleepy Ava in his arms, you watch them go, a warm feeling spreading through you. This chance encounter has blossomed into something promising, and as you turn towards your car, a smile lingers on your lips. The beach seems a little brighter now, filled with the promise of sunshine, ice cream, and maybe, just maybe, something more.

Suddenly, your phone buzzes in your pocket. It's a text message. You pull it out, expecting a message from a friend, but your heart skips a beat when you see the name displayed on the screen - Charles the handsome dad 😋.

Charles the handsome dad 😋: Ava just fell asleep. She kept asking for "y/n." Any chance you have a favorite ice cream flavor? Trying to win some brownie points for Saturday afternoon.

A laugh escapes your lips. He's charming, that's for sure. You quickly type a response.

y/n the life-saver 🎀: Chocolate chip cookie dough, always! And tell Ava I said goodnight. See you on Saturday cha!

You hit send and a warm feeling washes over you. This unexpected encounter has taken a delightful turn, and with a giddy anticipation for saturday's ice cream date, you turn back towards the ocean. The waves seem to whisper a promise of something exciting to come, and you can't wait to see where this newfound connection might lead.

***

The cheerful clinking of spoons against ice cream sundaes fills the air. You sit across from Charles at a brightly colored table, a giant chocolate chip cookie dough sundae melting in front of you. Ava, nestled comfortably in a high chair, digs into a kid-sized strawberry sundae with a look of pure bliss.

He chuckles “Looks like someone's enjoying their treat.”

Ava lets out a happy gurgle, a smear of red adorning her cheek. You laugh, you leaned towards her to wipe her cheek.

“She's definitely got a sweet tooth.” you say while wiping her cheek.

Charles takes a bite of his own sundae, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Just like her dad. Thanks for the recommendation, this cookie dough ice cream it's fantastic!” he smiles.

“My pleasure, I'm glad you both like it.”

Ava reaches out, grabbing a stray piece of cookie dough from your sundae. You laugh, helping her bring it to her mouth.

“Careful, little one, that's a big bite!”

Charles watches the interaction between you and Ava, a smile playing on his lips.

“You seem to have a way with kids.” He says softly while looking at the two of you with adoration.

You shrug. “I guess so, I have a younger brother, so I've had my fair share of practice.”

The conversation flows easily between bites of ice cream, you learn more about Charles' life as a single dad, the challenges and rewards that come with it, he talks about his passion for racing, a twinkle in his eyes as he describes his dream of one day competing professionally. You share your own dreams and aspirations, surprised at how comfortable you feel opening up to him.

As Ava starts to get cranky, signaling the need for a nap, you suggest taking a walk along the nearby park. Charles readily agrees.

A comfortable silence settles between you. You both steal glances at each other, the unspoken attraction hanging heavy in the air. You reach the edge of the park, the familiar beach stretching before you.

“Looks like we're back where it all began.” you blush slightly.

“It does, doesn't it? Funny how things work out.” he smiles.

He stops walking, turning to face you. Ava lets out a whimper in her sleep, prompting Charles to gently bounce her in his arms.

“This was... so nice, I mean, this sweet afternoon and last week at the beach, it's very... Unexpected, but very good.” He says quietly with a smile on his face.

You meet his gaze, your heart fluttering in your chest.

You smiled. “I also liked it! Ava's such a sweetheart, and you seem like... a good guy, a really good and nice guy.”

He smiles back, a genuine warmth radiating from his eyes.

“I, uh... I was wondering if maybe, sometime next week, you'd like to have dinner? Just the two of us, after Ava's asleep?” He says with a bit of hesitation.

Your stomach does a nervous flip-flop, but a wide smile stretches across your face.

“I'd like that very much Charles.”

A wave of relief washes over Charles. He leans forward slightly, his eyes searching yours.

“Great... In that case, how about I give you a proper goodbye this time?” He says with a bit of flirtation in his voice.

Before you can respond, he leans in further, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss is brief, sweet, and filled with unspoken promise.

Ava lets out a startled gurgle, breaking the spell. Charles pulls back with a laugh, a blush creeping up his neck.

“Looks like our little chaperone wants to get home.” he chuckles and blushes.

“Seems that way.” you giggled while blushing.

He walks you back to your car, Ava snuggled contentedly against his chest.

“Text me when you get home, so I know you made it safe. And maybe, just maybe, you can tell me what your favorite dinner is.” He says while blushing a little.

You laugh a little bit. “Don't worry, you'll be very well fed.”

He smiles, a hint of something deeper lingering in his gaze. You wave goodbye as he drives away with Ava, a warmth spreading through your chest. The unexpected encounter at the beach has blossomed into something exciting, and as you watch the sun disappear over the horizon, you can't wait to see where this new path might lead.

#formula one x reader #f1 x you #dad!charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles x reader #charles leclerc #charles x you #charles leclerc x you #mariclerc fics

[whore-ibly-hot]

"A Servant and His King."

Yandere!Fae-King x Fae!servant x. Fem! Reader

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, coercion, fae related hijinks, basically monster fucking, oral (fem receiving), loss of virginity, clit play, p-in-v sex, power dynamics.

(A/N): Part two to a non-smutnfic about Puck, based off of puck from 'Midsummer Nights Dream'. Can be read with or standalone.

Part one (not required to understand)

A brief gust of wind and leaves rattles the shutters of your small cottages window, not sounding out of place when mixed with the usual sounds of the forest. However, the gust turns softer as it gently brushes against the shutters, causing them to open slowly with a creak.

A pair of feet land nimbly upon the wooden dresser across the room from your bed, a shadowy figure squatting down with a grin. The figure hops down, making its way to your bed, where you sleeping form lies blissfully unaware of the intruder.

Groaning, you are soon roused from your slumber by a light pressure on your wrist, and your eyes flutter open. You gasp, seeing the being before you and trying to pull away. "

"W-who are you! Stay awa-" a finger is pressed softly to your lips, the figures face coming into view as the lean forward. Forest green eyes and a set of familiar pearly whites greet you.

"Shh! No need to fear, only Puck is here." He coos, kissing your wrist once more, pressing the soft flesh to his lips. "Sorry to frighten you, little mortal. I would never mean to upset you, but I couldn't very waltz in through the entrance to your humble abode, especially given your mother's feelings about my kind." He lays his lithe body across yours, head on your chest as he looks at you with glee.

"Why are you here, Puck? It's late, I must rest." You say, though you don't resist the fae boys touching. "Sleep is important for humans."

He scoffs. "I know, but I have something more important than your human need for sleep. My king, Oberon, leader of the seelie court wishes to meet you." He pulls you up by your shoulders, a hand fixing your nightgown which begins to slip from your shoulder.

"T-the king?" You're just a human woman, a peasant. You've never even met a human noble, much less a faery king. "Why? Puck, I'm not, I can't! Now? I'm not dressed properly, I'm a human, I-"

Once again, a finger is placed against your lips. Invading your space as per usual, Pucks forehead is pressed against your forehead, nose to nose. "Shush, little mortal. Please, the king loves me. I am his jester-servant, his beloved Puck! We've shared many a-" he chuckles. "Amourous night together. He knows if your good enough for me, then your good enough to meet him. Don't discredit yourself, you are so much more than some mortal maid I take in the woods for a night of passion." He makes her sit up, and tries to slip her out of the bed. "He'll love you, my sweet. It's only proper I introduce my new beloved friend to my closest companion, ruler, and my king." You allow him to pull you out of your bed, and into his lanky form.

"Mmph, Puck. I can walk." You groan, trying to wriggle from his grasp. He tsks with his tongue, and shakes his head.

"No, no, no. Don't whine, don't go away. Be good. It's a long stroll all the way to the spring we're going to, just relax." He cackles. "You humans are so indecisive. Just a moment ago you were whining, 'Puck, no. It's too late, I'm a human, I need my sleep.', now you won't let me carry your frail, tired self to see the king. Make up your mind."

You roll your eyes, but suppose he has a point, and allow yourself to melt into his warm embrace, shoulders flush against his pecs.

As he slips back through the window and dances through the glen, weaving through trees and brush like a gust of cool night air, he soon arrives upon a clearing. Smooth rock reflect moonlight, as the water resting atop them comes from the babbling freshwater spring that rests at the edge of the rocks. A figure, imposing and much more muscular than Puck's is sat on one of the rocks, admiring the water.

Puck gently sets you down with nimble hands, kissing your ear lightly. This causes you to squeak and push him off.

"Stop it, Puck! I-im about to meet a king and your acting like we're lovers! Like your an enamored schoolboy!" You exclaim, and his hands only wrap around your waist from behind, playing with the cloth there.

"And here I thought we were lovers..." He feigns a sad face and a pout, before jolting forward and taking you with him by the waist. "My king!" He yells.

The imposing figure looks over, causing you to freeze, mind not really in synch with body as Puck drags you forward. The king is truly a thing of beauty, rugged and piercing as if he were carved, not from stone, but from the wood that made up the forest which he called his domain. He wears a fur pelt around his waist, covering his only upper thigh and not leaving much to the imagination. His is decidedly hairy, and though beautiful is as rugged as a human man of the woods is expected to be. He has dark curls of hair not unsimilar to Puck's, but not as long. His eyes are a deep brown.

"Ah, Puck, my fair servant friend. I was almost afraid you had planned to trick me, having not shown yet." The king muses, legs spread casually and a hand resting against his chin.

Puck gasps, hand to his chest as if hurt. "Never, my liege. Well, at least not to you." Puck coos, sitting on the rock and curling up to the man's calve. The king runs his hands through the curls of the fae man, and you are taken aback by the sensuality of their interaction.

The king looks up. "And you, little mortal, must be my Pucks new favorite thing, hmm?" He asks, head tilted. You nod nervously as the man waves you closer. You bow, and he grins. "Good, good. I assume she knows who I am then? I am King Oberon, of this enchanted woods and over all of the seelie court. Though, my servant here told me you knew little to nothing of our people when asked you about us, so I doubt you'd know what the seelie court is."

You shake your head. "No, sir. All I know-" you glance at Puck, who is practically purring at his kings touch. "All I know is what Puck has told me. That you are powerful, and to be respected."

Oberon grins at this. "That is all you need know. Come here, allow a king to gaze upon you." His hands begin to wander, cupping your face. His large fingers prod your plump lips, your cheeks, and tilts your chin downwards to look at him from where he is sat. Then, the hand is on your shoulder, playing with the straps of your upper garment, then at your chest. This sudden touch in such an intimate place causes you to jolt back. Oberon raises a brow.

"I'm sorry, sir. That is, that is just a very intimate place for humans. It's for sensual matters, when between two adults." You try to explain. Puck sighs, leaning his head on Oberons knee while the king chuckles.

"I am aware. It is intimate and sensual for fae too. That is why you were being touched there." He says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Now, you are only more confused.

"Well, intimacy of those matters between humans happens between a-a married couple, and even then, it should not be openly discussed. A woman like myself couldn't, shouldn't ever bee with a stranger like that, not even a suitor before marriage!"

"I have heard humans are... less indulgent in the passions of life than fae. All those awful, boring rules. And yet you kill your leaders and revolt because your miserable? Perhaps. Eing unable to express those urges is why." He laughs, and Puck joins in. He sense your confusion and continues. "Fae do not believing in brief enjoyment and indulgence. We live life to the fullest. Our liquor is stronger yet we drink more, our food is richer, yet we all eat like kings. And most of all, we indulge in the passions of the flesh with each other more than your little mind could take. I think if you had the opportunity, you'd see it was the best way to live." He muses.

To your suprise, he suddenly moves Puck up from his calve to his lap, holding the thin man by the waist as Puck grins wickedly. "You see, me and my servant here are close, emotionally and physically. We have enjoyed many a night of passion, without the watchful eye of my queen, of course." There is some bitterness in Oberon's tone at the mention of his queen.

"You... you indulge in passion with those, of the same gender as you, o-often?" You ask. It is not wrong, you are just so suprised and curious. You are not even supposed to think about a man pleasing a woman, let alone a man and another man. It is such a foreign idea.

"Mhmm. Being a king is hard for his majesty, and Puck... I, am happy to help him with his desires. My king cares for me, and I care for him." Puck says, before gasping and cutting off. You blush, seeing Oberons hand has slipped below Pucks leafy loincloth, hand stroking Puck manhood. He focuses only on the tip for now.

"I am suprised seeing as you are so shocked by how touchy and sensual fae are, seeing as you bedded my dear servant." Oberon says, and you immediately shake your head.

"No! I've never, me and Puck did nothing together. We drank a little, but he took me home." You exclaim, and look st Ouck for answers. He's too busy letting out soft whimpers and moans as Oberon moves his hand the full length of Pucks cock, paying attention to his bulbous tip.

"Is this true, Puck? I find it hard to believe, my servant can't keep his hands to himself. I suppose this makes you seem even more special to me, that my Puck would wish to see you again so desperately, and rave about you to me even if he had not bedded you yet. That begs the question though..." He leans in to Puck's ear. "Why did you lie to your king?"

Puck groans, brows furrowing. "M' sorry, your majesty! I knew you were so busy, and if I told you I had found a mortal capable of giving such incredible pleasure, you'd be more likely to come and see what a treasure I had found." He stammers. The king shakes his head, slowing his movements on Puck's cock.

"You know better than to lie to a king with a temper, Puck."

Puck cries out, bucking his hips and trying to chase that friction against his kings rough hands. "N-no sir! Trust me, I know if she'd just indulge, the mortal would be wonderful! She... she could be our mortal, not just mine! Please sir, I'll be good, she'll be good, don't stop." He begs.

Oberon sighs, still frowning in Pucks direction but intrigued nonetheless. "Alright, mortal girl. I yell you, if you would only let go, indulge just a bit in the pleasures of the fae, you would live a better life overall. And, should you please a king of the woods, perhaps your... what is it your mother does? Herbs? Perhaps they would see a better yield. An enchantment perhaps?" He offers.

You gulp, body hot with both arousal at the sight before you and anxiety. "I couldn't. What would the people in town think, I-I would be outcast!"

"Who would know? Even if someone were to find out, no one would believe a quiet gardeners daughter slept with a wicked spirit." The king teases, tongue poking out from between his lips slightly. He pulls you to him, and you offer no resistance. "For an untouched maiden, I assure you there is no one better to introduce you to a world of pleasure than the king, and his most loyal servant."

As he says this, the moaning Puck latches his lips onto your neck, continuing to moan as he sucks the soft flesh. You gasp.

"Oh, oh, gods." You squeak, the sensitive skin of your nape never having been touched, much less kissed in such a way.

"No gods, here, mortal. No angels or demons, only fae. Only the spirits of nature." He leans into your ear, kissing the shell. "Only your king."

Soon, a rough hand gets your skirt pooled around your knees, kneading the fat of your thigh and preparing to spread your legs and allow the fae king and his srmervant a view of the untouched treasure that lies there. You shiver as the cold air brushes across your stomach, you've never felt so exposed.

"See, highness? I told you, she's the perfect, pretty little mortal. Tease her, please? For me? I want to see her face as she experiences pleasure for the first time." Puck begs.

Oberon raises a brow and the request. "Such demands from a liar who has already been granted mercy, and is still being pleasure bu the hands of a king." He pulls his hand from Ouck's cock, causing tears to well in the edged faes eyes, having been denied his release.

"Majesty-"

"Enough. I will allow you to tease and prep the maiden, so she may except you king. Before you say anything, be grateful I don't only allow you to watch, or send you home." Puck whines, but grins a little inside. He knows the king enjoys his presence to much to remove him from this sensual scene.

Oberons large hands keep your shoulders flat against the warm stones of the spring, while Puck, still hard beneath his tented loincloth, crawls unceremoniously up between your thighs.

"What are you doing, Puck?" You whisper out softly, looking into his dazzling green eyes. He smiles warmly, pressing his cheek to one of your thighs.

"I assure you, maiden, my wicked tongue is not only good for japes and jabs." He coos. You are still confused at what he could mean, until the two thin fingers parting your folds are replaced with a hot, wet muscle. Puck licks a stripe teasingly up your center, savoring the flavour but eyes never leaving your face.

Oberon smiles down as he watches your face contort and wrinkle at the new sensation.

"Puck, y-your majesty, what is- oh, what is he doing?" You ask, trying to form a coherent sentence at the odd feeling of pressure and friction against both your clit and your entrance as Puck explores your folds.

"It's called cunnilingus, maiden. Fae have many ways to pleasure each other, but many enjoys the feel of one's mouth on their most intimate areas." He chuckles as he watches Puck tasting you curiously. "Sometimes, I find filling his mouth is the only way to quiet him." Puck giggles, and the vibrations make your legs quake.

Soon, the muscle invades your entrance, as Puck is now groaning almost as much as you. It's a gentle stretch, but both Ouck and Oberon know it will be necessary for what the king is to do later. Your aroused and needy clit is not forgotten by the fae pleasuring you, as a free hand comes to tweak it gently. The feeling is overwhelming, and soon, that knot inside you snaps, and you feel a high you've never known. It feels as though currents, waves run through your body as your maidenhood spasms around Pucks tongue.

He removes it, but continues to lap at your spent clit, tasting the juices of your climax. Oberon smiles.

"Was he good, maiden? Did you first touch by a man satisfy?" He asks. You can only weakly nod. "Ah, answer, maiden. Your being addressed by a royal."

"It was... it was very good, m-majesty." You gasp out. You look away at the sheer lewdness of the sight and Oberon crashes his lips to Pucks so that he may taste you on his servants lips.

"She was a divine nectar, my liege." Puck groans, pulling away from the kiss and now trading spots with his king. Now Puck lays by your shoulders, playing with your locks and kissing your neck and jawline while Oberon moves into place.

His chisled body places itself atop you, his sheer size dwarfing you and removing the moonlight from your body, casting a large shadow. You gulp.

"I... I've never done-" he chuckles, cutting you off.

"I'm aware, mortal. All that talk of purity led me to that conclusion. But, you won't be that innocent for long. I will be gentle, but it will hurt at first when you accept me into your sweet cunt. It's all part of the process."

You tense a little at the feeling of something hard, much more rigid than Pucks limp tongue, prodding at your entrance and folds.

"M' scared." You admit. This seems to soften the sensual yet cold king, and he sighs. Even Puck gives him a sad, wide eyes look. He leans down.

"Don't worry, mortal. I will be as gentle as any man has been with a woman. My Puck was never one to be nervous, but I have had lovers in the past who were. I will take care of you." He says.

Puck holds your hand and nuzzles his cheek to yours to provide a semblance of comfort. "It's true. The king is a fair and gentle lover when he wants to be. Don't worry, my friend." He assures.

Oberon strokes your thighs to relax soon, and soon the tip enters your weeping slit. You whine, the intrusion burns a little, especially as he adds a few inches every so often. But, he is slow, and talks you through it.

"Shh, it's alright. Your taking me so well, especially since I am endowed with more than some. Such a good mortal girl, it will feel good once you've stretched to accommodate a fae's cock." He coos.

As he begins to gently thrust, the slightly pain gives way to a burning pleasure. You whimper, his thrusts rocking your ads back against the stone of the spring. His large, curved tip is hitting the right spots, cervix getting pounded by the large man of the forest.

"O-oh, shit! Oberon, please- please, m-more! I need all, all of you in me!" You cry, and he chuckles.

"That's your womb speaking. This is your first time, you couldn't possibly accommodate all of me. But I will give you what I think, ugh, what I think you can take." He thursts become rhythmic, rolling in and out of your stretched tunnel, as Puck holds you steady and plays gently with your chest.

Oberon humps against you a few more times, moaning at Pucks encouragement. "She is so close, sire. I can tell, she's all tense and red, come on! Give it to her, let her take you. Please." It's clear Puck is still needy from not having gotten his release earlier. Still, he seems satisfied watching the king fuck his newest treasure.

"Mortal, mortal. You squeeze like a vice, such a warm, needy cunt. You needed this, to feel such pleasure, didn't you? Needed a cock to fill this cunt?" He moans. "It was fate, wasn't it, Puck? Finding this maiden, all alone. It was fate for you to be brought to us." Puck nods as his master continues.

"Your majesty, I'm gonna- its happening again." You cry, and his pace doesn't slow.

"I know, I know. I'm, fuck-" one last thrust sends the king over the edge. He groans, feeling your tunnel convulse around him as his thick white cum fills you. Puck plants quick, overwhelming kisses across your face as you climax, secretly wondering what you would look like if you bore the king's child.

Soon, Oberon pulls out, and you lay there, trembling and on the verge of sleep. Puck leans down and plants a final kiss upon your lips. He smiles.

"Sleep, little mortal. It's okay, you are safe with me and my king. I'll return you to your bed, pretty one." He strokes your hair softly, until your tired eyes close and stay closes. He sighs, and looks at the king. It's clear he could go for a fee more rounds.

"Majesty, our poor mortal needed this so badly, her body was on fire for it. We can't... we can't well let her go back to her little cottage, all alone in the dangerous wood with no one to please her. She's trusting, and she broke all the rules of interacting with fae so quickly, what if a worse one came along and-"

"Puck!" Oberon exclaims, making the imp jolt and go silent. Oberon sighs. "I am not a fool. I know how much this unique mortal has captivated the two of us. You need not convince me to take her back to my palace. As fair as Titania will be concerned, she is a plaything for you, correct? I will not have her cursing this treasure." Oberons muscular arms cradle your slumbering form.

"Majesty, I know of your endurance. Perhaps when we get back to the palace, while our maiden rests, I may please you." Puck asks, eyes wide and innocent.

Oberon scoffs. "All this acting because I didn't allow you to finish, Puck?" Oberon says, seeing through Pucks facade of goodwill and selflessness. Puck pouts.

"Isn't it tempting, though?"

"Perhaps."

#yandere #yandere oc #tw.yandere #yandere fanfiction #yandere content #tw.dark content #x reader #yandere boy #yandere fae #yandere king #oc Puck #oc Oberon #tw.dubcon #yandere smut #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #oc x reader

[transmascaraa]

multiple characters headcannons!

how are they when you tell them you're tired and ask them to carry you?

characters: lyney, wanderer, gaming, neuvillette, wriothesley x gn!reader

author's note: FIRST TIME WRITING MORE CHARACTERS IN ONE WOOHOO 🙌 🎉 anyways i hope you guys like this one<3 i tried to include chars that everyone loves, and chars that i love myself and stuff so yeah i'll try and see if it works out(i'll continue doing these either way)

⑅ Lyney

-he's the type to look at you surprisingly. you??? asking HIM to carry you? he'd be flustered for a bit, and then try to act confident again.

-like "oh, of course, mon amour! come here!..."

-he's strong enough, but he would STILL be worried. he would overthink so so sooo much.

-what if he drops you? well, he won't. he's just an overthinker.

-and when he'd finally pick you up, bridal style because he's the most comfortable like that, he would start sweating.

-but of course, masking it all with some "confidence". so the two of you ended up in either one of these situations:

-one, it was quiet with him smiling at you half of the time. not being able to talk because he was so happy.

-two, he'd end up talking to you about some nonsense or his magic shows, not wanting it to be too awkward or too quiet for you.

-either way, thank him in the end. he'll be jumping over clouds because he managed to help you in some way.

-just keep praising him, he'll be all over you. he's a complete simp for you like that.

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

✯ Wanderer

-he's the tsundere. you'd ask him and he'd look at you with such a disgusted look as if you just told him you eat dirt and cement for breakfast. again, with his sassy attitude.

-"ME? to carry YOU? because you're "tired"? yeah. that won't work on me." turning his head away from you, fighting the urge to just surrender.

-but of course, his ego was too big. but not until you started showing clear signs that you were tired. he gave you a few glances, "side-eyes", before stopping and looking at you. looking at you as if he was waiting for something.

-you'd just say "nothing." which would make him even more angry. at that, he just rolled his eyes and said "oh, shut up." before taking you in his arms and continuing to walk with you in silence.

-if you mentioned a single thing about that EVER, you would basically be asking for punishment (whichever type of it lol).

-just say a little "thank you" after you're done and let him quietly mutter that "you're welcome".

-he was glad he got to be close to you like that.

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

✿ Gaming

-now HE would be VERY happy to help. you'd ask and in a single second he'd be picking you up. he just loves you that much.

-"i'm more than happy to do so, my love~!" smiling brightly at you.

-he couldn't be more happy, he was close to you, he was hold you in his arms, what more could he ask for? especially because you're tired, he would be so nice to you when you got home. he's a real gentleman when it comes to love.

-while he walked like that with you in his arms, the two of you would chit-chat and talk about random things, just making sure you're not bored. or maybe, if you preferred silence, he would stay quiet, whatever makes you happy<3

-after a bit of more walking, he would take care of you at home, letting you rest for a bit, and making your favorite food with your favorite drink.

-he just wanted you happy. to see you smile.

-and then, during dinner time, discussing some more random topics, or just him ranting about his next performance.

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

๑ Neuvillette

-he would be so sweet. trust me. so sweet and gentle with you. you're tired? he's there to help. you want him to carry you? no problem. you'd ask him and he'd not slowly, smiling fainly at you, even blushing a bit.

-"let me help you." and he'd pick you up.

-finally, after he's got you in his arms, and he continues walking, it's going to be so peaceful. if you want to talk, sure, he will talk. but since you're with him, the silence couldn't be more peaceful.

-listening to the birds chirping in the background, or maybe even the townspeople talking about some things, it was peaceful nonetheless.

-it was very calm. and at some point, he would start humming some melody. compliment him. he'll blush but he'll be extremely thankful, and will definitely hum next time you take a walk around fontaine.

-and when you get home, he'd make you rest and give you some cuddles, hoping that you would "recharge" that way.

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

◉ Wriothesley

-he wouldn't make much of a reaction, and treat it like it's an everyday thing, but tease you occasionally, of course. as soon as you asked, he just said:

-"okay." and looked at you for a few seconds before taking you in his arms. you'd tell him "thank you" already then and there and he'd just nod and say "mhmm."

-but... for the rest of the walk, he'll be winking at you and giving you teasing smirks.

-oh how you wanted to punch him.

-and after getting home, when he puts you down, you'd say "thank you" and then give him a playful angry look.

-to which he would reply with yet ANOTHER teasing grin. "you're welcome."

-he would tease you A LOT. but still, don't worry, he'll still take good care of you.

-value his teasing. actually, you can hit him if you want to. it won't hurt him that much anyway, he has the muscles.

-but it'll be impossible to be mad at him for too long.

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

I ACTUALLY REALLY LIKE THIS.

it's pretty good tbh

TELL ME IF YOU WANT MORE AND YOU CAN ALSO SUGGEST CHARACTERS😋😋

edit1: STOPPPP Y'ALL THIS IS MY MOST FAMOUS PIECE OF WORK IT'S AT 395 NOTES RN😭😭🫶

edit2: bro it's at 1k💀

edit3: i love you guys sm ty all for 1.2k😭

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #gaming x reader #gaming x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x gn reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin #genshin imagines #help are those all the tags cuz there's so many😰 if not please tell me what i missed😓 #⑅⁠čikonyxo's post🎭

[shaisuki]

SHIT! THAT HURTS, BUT IT'S AN ACCIDENT. RIGHT, SWEETHEART?

ft. gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, geto suguru

content warnings ─── noncon, dacryphilia, implied kidnapping, punishments, forced affection, choking, stockholm syndrome, blood, forced marriage, delusions.

ᝰ synopsis .ᐟ accidents do happen. that's why you accidentally hit them but thank the heavens above, they understand. it would be easier if you just let them do what they want.

GOJO SATORU

the accumulated perspiration coming from the deepest end of your dermis shows it appearance as it runs down to your forehead. goosebumps rising as you felt his presence getting nearer. there's no blood lust or the imminent danger that tells your mind to run. accustomed from the conditioning your body had done every time you sense his presence.

your grip on the edge of your book gets tighter as the pages crumple at your very touch. you hoped he's tired or isn't in a bad mood. in that way he would just force you to cuddle him until you fall asleep. one thing you knew with living with him that is he never sleeps or so you think. you didn't know. you never catched him being asleep. it's not like you're going to murder him in cold blood.

you shift in your seat. trying to find a comfortable position despite the weariness growing in you and pretends you're engrossed in your book. you didn't want to send him a message that you're scared of him but you weren't comfortable with him either.

cold palms holds your round cheeks and you were greeted by him smiling. his dimples deepening and he is yet to remove his blindfold. “i'm home, my love.” and he squeezes your cheeks a little hard. anticipating the words that will come flowing out of your mouth. it's a warning. your lips tremble a bit. “w—welcome home, satoru.” you managed to say out aloud and he was satisfied. hooking a finger in his blindfold before pulling it up and discarding it. a sign that his attention is all on you now.

“would you like something to eat?” you asked him. biting your tongue at the question. regretting at your choice of yours and you should have stayed silent. your brain screaming and hoping that he is actually hungry and you're not insinuating that will get him riled up.

gojo chuckles. “you could be so cheeky, mochi.” pinching your round cheek. “you know the answer.” he said and you panic for a brief moment before he takes it back. “as much i'd like to have you for dinner, i prefer us sharing a meal tonight.” you wished this was set on a different timeline. where you would be his from your own will. his good housewife where you will miss him for real and share the sentiments of being together despite busy schedules but it's not. you're still sane and you were just playing pretend.

a quick hot meal and the plates and bowls are already laden with food. you both ate in silence. aside from him spoon feeding you. watched in glee as you ate what he feeds you. your lips around the chopsticks while you chew and hums in delight.

the meal ends when the dishes are stacked in the sink and you told him that you'll take care of it while he takes a bath. he didn't look at you suspiciously. confident in himself that can't run away from him and you knew that too well.

you're almost finished drying the plates when he got out of the shower. never liked staying for too long when you're here. itching to get closer to you every time he's far away from you and he takes a little longer to admire his wife doing the simplest of things. the calmness of your face and your body moving in slow motion. it's almost he was being serenaded with such tranquility coming from you. he almost feels bad when he's the reason sometimes of your tears.

he slowly walks towards you. encasing you in his arms and he feels you stiffen against his touch. body turning rigid while his large hands dwarfs over to your smaller hands. helping you wipe the plate dry until there is nothing left to clean.

“satoru, not tonight. please.” your husband began to kiss you. he likes the word "husband". it brings him joy knowing that he is yours. “why?” he asks. his hard on poking through his gray sweatpants and is pressed to your ass. “i'm not in the mood.” you reason out. holding his wrists in a firm hold. his hands creeping under your blouse. his fingers digging in the plushness of your stomach. “then let's get you in the mood.” he breath out. kissing the side of your head and then to your jaw. his hands kneading the flesh in your stomach like dough. his touch were like fire. scorching and scalding. burning in your skin and causing you pain that you can't measure with.

“please! not tonight!” you snap out in anger. in frustration. sick to your stomach of letting him do whatever he pleases. of pretending that you like whatever he does.

he stops for a moment. listening to your plea and he grabs your shoulder. making you turn around to face him. he cups your jaw and forcing you to look at his eyes. you could stare at those icy blue eyes that looks like spheres where the universe is held forever. instead you loathed it. it's a reminder how vast the world is and here you are, imprisoned and is forced to this man's whims.

your lips are soft against him. he missed kissing you. he's been away for a week and you're here, denying him. he took it as an advantage to wrapped his arms around your waist before hoisting you above. your body beginning to struggle against him but he continued to kiss you until you were both in the bed. placing you down before his body traps you.

“is it because i was rough last week, baby?” his voice laced with concern that it's poison to hear. “no. i just don't want to be with you tonight.” your eyes begins to get heavy with tears. “not now, satoru.” you begged hoping he would stop. gojo grasps your cheek. “i'm sorry if i was rough but i will be gentle tonight.” he assures you but no words can convince you.

then you leave him no choice.

he puts his shin in your thighs preventing movements and lessening your resistance to him and then in a brief flash when your wrist got loose. his cheek started to sting. the crimson liquid seeping in the cracks of his dermis and he smiles. halting his assault to you and relish in the physical pain you put him through. since when did he got injured last? feel the pain of the surface of his body. he fought the strongest of curses. fought with toughest of foes. got stabbed with a blade and shaked the hands of death.

there's infinity protecting him and yet, he can't shield himself from loving you and he's more than willing to accept your touch and harm him in anyways you can.

he watched you as you curl up in a fetal position. protecting your body from him as you sobbed. the first tears rolling down in your cheeks and staining the pillows below you.

this won't stop. you would be always in this position no matter how you resist. you braced yourself for what to come and you were met with nothing. no greedy of his hands touching you and you were relieved. maybe, he gave up for tonight.

how wrong you are. you look at him through blurry eyes and his pale cheeks were colored in his blood. you did it. you inflicted pain in him. you wounded him. you take a gulp of air. calming your erratic heartbeat. not once did it crossed your mind you can harm him. with his infinity and those eyes and the endless power bestowed to him. you could never.

there is a look of animosity behind your eyes that he can see clearly. he's a little hurt aside from the wound. your soft body is sprawled beneath him. sobs racking throughout your body and it hurts him a little to see you crying.

“i thought it will change....” a hiccup interrupted your following words then when you regained your control to speak, you continued. “...my feelings for you. that one day, despite of what you had done. i'll learn to love you...” your fist clenching. your hands making a close-open motion before turning into a fist again. grasping the blanket. “nothing changed, i'm sick of playing house with you. i fucking hate you.” all the madness and you don't think it will reach to him.

a little. he knows how much you despised him. loathed him.

he don't care though. you were still his wife. no matter what you were feeling. be it hatred or fondness that he will never attain. you already hate him, what's the point of caring for your silly, little feelings when he can always make it up to you.

“i know.” he whispers. brushing a lock of your hair and leaning down to press his forehead to yours. his blue eyes staring intently in your eyes, tears at the corner.

alas, it never ends. your tears, your voice and will being taken away. how his hands latching at the lapels of your top. ripping it apart just like how he always do. your pajama shorts following.

bite your lips as he slowly penetrates you. don't make a sound. you tell to yourself. just don't. don't. don't. don't. don't. don't. don'—.

he promises to himself that after this, he would spoil you. buy all your favorite snacks, new clothes, a whole set of the book he knows you really like. he would take the day off to spend the rest of his days pampering you. kiss all the parts where it hurts but now, let him feel you as he kisses the salty streaks of your tears in your cheek. stare at your eyes and search for his reflection. his fingers intertwining at yours and when you squeezed his hands back, he'll convince himself that you really loved him despite all of that.

and it's more than enough.

NANAMI KENTO

you spend your days lounging around. the ankle cuffs weighing heavier than it is. search every cracks and cranny of the penthouse, hoping to entertain yourself and you've found some rather interesting things but it was nothing when you found the key to your freedom.

an old model of a phone. it wasn't damaged at the very least along with a few scratches and a minimal crack in the corner of the screen. you think it was nanami's phone during his high school years but you set aside the thoughts. this was necessary for your freedom.

pressing the key button, you let out a sharp gasp. the device vibrates and beeps with the model's ringtone. every second feels like eternity waiting for it to power up.

the screen lights up. showing you the screensaver and the date and time that was at least a decade ago. you check if there is network and you were graced with a full bar signalling that it was capable of calling someone. you changed the date and time to match with today and to avail the services.

your hands shaking as you tapped the buttons one by one. unaware of the door opening and the footsteps getting closer to where you are. you didn't even think he'd be home this early.

there's a sound akin to a purr when you pressed the button a little longer. it's the last digit of the number of the person you've been itching to call since you've been declared missing. they must be worried sick. your hands shake, getting clammy as you pressed the call button. there's static then the familiar hum of the number being dialed.

dialing.

dialing..

dialing...

“hello?” the familiar voice of your mom at the end of the receiver and your hands tremble. you breathe in and out. steadying your breathing and you want to break in a sob. this is it. someone is going to help you now. a tear falls before you can speak.

“mom! m—.” it happens in a slow motion. his large and warm palm in yours before he pulls the phone away from you. pressing the end call button swiftly and putting it in his pockets. since when? since when did he get back? wasn't he at work?

“give it back!” you yelled, reaching out for him. for his pockets. why did it have to be so close yet so far. “darling, you can't.” he says apologetically. pursing his lips in thin line and he can feel a migraine coming.

“no! stop telling me what to do! i'm so sick of you controlling me!” you almost spat at his face. desperately clawing him to get that device. he holds your shoulder, stopping your advances in him but you kept fighting for it. punching at him with your fists but what are you to the man who was built like a solid rock.

he's patient but sometimes his patience runs thin when things doesn't go in his way. he's already in a sour mood after having to deal with a colleague and you, his supposed to be sweet wife is fighting him. with no choice, he lifts you up. putting you in his shoulders like you were a sack of potatoes.

that didn't hinder you and you were putting up a fight. your freedom was that close and you couldn't let this chance slip. your arms hitting his back and your legs moving. squirming as you try to wrestle your way out from his grip.

“let me go! let me call my mom!” you sniffle. the tears flowing from your cheeks freely staining the back of his shirt. your arms still flailing and with a particular movement. your elbow made contact on his cheek. nanami remains stoic and he knows it will bruise.

you limply slide away from his body when his hold on to you got loose. clutching your arms and watch droplets of your tears fall on the ground. your hiccups were sudden and squeezes your chest with every breath. “i just want to go home.” you whisper.

when will you ever learn?

and why does it hurt him when you cry even when it's your fault. he loves you. a part of his brain tell him. it's an accident. he tells to himself. you were never meant to hurt him and you were just missing your mother. what a pain. you were supposed to be dead in the outside world. now, your existence are known and it would not take long before it spreads about you being alive. perhaps, he can make arrangements regarding to your family members.

he loves you and that's why he only tolerates your misbehaviors but now, he don't think he can put up with this tantrums again. you needed to learn.

nanami kneels down at your level. his hazel eyes warm and gives you the illusion that he'll let go of this but it was unforgiving. he cradles your cheek with his palm. “i'm sorry darling, you need to learn a lesson.”

the blonde sorcerer watch in desire as shiver runs down throughout your body. his fingers tracing the outline of your back where your spine is covered by your supple flesh. normally, nanami would take pleasure in this. watch as you writhe and squirm for him. it's considered therapeutic for him but in the next minutes it would be going to be hard for you.

your face buried in the sheet while your ass is in the air. bare and sore from the previous spanking and it's not enough. you needed to learn. take a lesson in what he's about to do and he's not forgiving at all times.

he rubs his fingers into your clit. flicking and pinching to get you nice and wet for him. although he's strict on prepping you first — stretching you properly with his fingers, tonight it wouldn't be present. he hopes you're already wet before he sinks his cock into you.

you feel him rub his cock to your slit before slowly inserting his cock into your hole. you winced as his large cock forces you to open for him. he's big and it hurts. tears stains the sheets under you as you bit the fabric. muffling your discomfort and the pain that spreads in your sex.

shit, all he can do is grit his teeth while your cunt engulfs his length. he can hear your whimpers and gasps and see the tears spreading in the sheets. he needs to do it or else it'll happen again. he can never let you go or leave him. you will always be forever with him.

when he taught that you're well and adjusted to him, nanami began to piston his hips at a brutal pace. the slam of his hips to yours makes your flesh jiggle and watch it stack in layers and fuck, it's beautiful how your body moves and responds to his every touch. just bare with it. he thinks to himself. he won't last too long from how good you are to him and true to it, he's already spilling his load inside you.

and now he regrets it. your back is pressed against his chest while he rubs the sore spots all over your body. you remained motionless. blinking the tears away and how you flinches away from his touch. remaining quiet and barely acknowledging his presence.

“forgive me, my darling.” he whispers to you. kissing your shoulders in attempt of redeeming himself from being too rough with you. his heart breaks when you ignored him. making yourself smaller in his presence despite being caged in his arms.

sighing, he continues his affections to you. knowing in due time you had your share and you wouldn't want to experience any of it again.

one thing he's sure of. you will never attempt again with his wrongdoings plaguing your mind and it's better. conveniently perfect for him until the next time.

FUSHIGURO TOJI

who thought you could put a fight.

although the damage was minimal, adrenaline pumps in his system. it's clear you were startled and your flight or fight response kicking in, in which you choose the latter to defend yourself.

a huge scratch mark decorating his arm and toji barks a laugh. licking his lips and the scar on the corner of his mouth twitches. it wasn't any different to the marks littering in his back from his artist of a wife. it wasn't bleeding but it stings when the cold air touches his peeled skin.

emerald eyes glimmers in amusement and toji crouches to your sniveling form in the corner of the bed. he cups your round cheek with his hand. “what do you say, princess when you've hurt someone?” he asks. humming to get that answer but you stubbornly avoided his gaze. rubbing your hands in your arms to comfort yourself.

toji clicks his tongue in annoyance. “it looks like you've forgotten your manners, huh?” he grabs your wrist and you pulled it away from him but toji kept his grip tight and bruising. almost crushing your wrist. “need me to teach it to you, sweetheart?” the sorcerer assassin taunts you. you shaked your head and toji sighs. you're going to learn it the hard way.

it's bruising. his hand wrapped around your neck and you see little spots of white in your vision while he drills his cock in your cunt. his other hand in your plush waist using it as a leverage to get deeper in your pussy. “are you really make me say it, you stubborn bitch.”

you can't speak. not when his hand are wrapped in your throat. you can't even make a sound and you stare back at him with tears in your eyes while you squeezed around him. earning a involuntarily moan from the man above you.

he loosens his grip and you took gulps of air before speaking, “i—i'm sorry.” you manage to croak out and toji chuckles. “see, it wasn't that hard to say. you really like being fucked by me before you can learn your lesson. keep it in mind, that me fucking you is second to me killing those monkeys outside.” toji leans down to whisper those words to you. looking at you side ways and watch your expression morphs into something of fear, desire as you moaned around him.

“don't be fucking stubborn to me the next time or you will get worse than this. i won't be forgiving you.” he warns. “understand?”

“yes.” you say nodding.

“good fucking girl.”

GETO SUGURU

you were absolutely mortified. he can see clearly how your lips trembled and the hue of your eyes being clouded with fear. shocked even. he knows you didn't mean it and you barely made a scratch on him.

“come here, sweet girl.” geto calmly called you but you shake your head. taking steps backwards like you were afraid of him. “now.” his voice now assertive and you slowly walk towards him. head hung low from being ashamed of harming your master.

“i—i'm sorry, geto-sama. i didn't mean it.” you drawl out to him and his fingers went to grasp your chin. meeting his gaze and you were nervous just by looking at them.

“i know you don't.” his hands finding your back to rub it. assuring you that it was fine and no harm was done to him and only the feeling of being betrayed that you felt unsafe around him. thinking that he will lash out at you and force you to unimaginable things that he's capable of but curse user is not like that. he values you that much but it doesn't mean you'll get away from it.

“but it is an accident i can't turn a blind eye on. are you scared of me?” he asks. his gaze turning dark as he looks at you straight in the eye.

you remained silent. truth be told, you are. you are scared of him. you've witnessed how he can commit such heinous acts without remorse and you're afraid that you'll upset him and you're going to end up like them. that's what you think but geto is far from that to you.

he noticed how your body trembles. the face of anxiety is visible for him to see and he chuckles to himself, amused. he was just playing with you and the answer is clear in front of him.

he brushes his lips to yours. “do not fear me, sweet girl.” he murmurs. the action enough to topple you in the edge and he hears your heart beating in your rib cage. your breath stuck in your throat and your eyes blown with lust.

“you always can make it up to me.” he says to you before turning his back to you and it was your cue to follow him in his private quarters.

that's why you found yourself bare in front of him. sweat glistening in your skin while you worked to please him. accident or not, you need to make it up for him. a way you can be freed from the burden you are now carrying by bestowing the most of heinous of acts to him. one thing that you promised yourself that you will never lay a hand in him unless he instructs you so.

you just love him so much that you're blind that you are only being exploited for his own gains.

#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝ #chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader #plus size reader #yandere x reader #yandere x chubby reader #yandere jjk #yandere jjk x reader #anime smut #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami x reader #toji fushiguro #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader

[nereidprinc3ss]

light of the morning

in which spencer sneaks into bau!reader's hotel room and they share a little more than just the bed

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence x sub reader, munch!spence, unprotected piv sex (dont do that), creampie (hate that word btw) praise, mentions of having to be quiet because morgan is right next door LOL, fluffy, established co-workers/friends with benefits, soooo idiots in love a/n: here is the promised smut. i am literally kicking my feet and twirling my hair and giggling and blushing at my own writing. I'm gonna have a freak out. requests are open like my legs

It’s late when the knock finally comes. Late enough that you’re dozing on the bed above the covers. 

It takes you a moment to reorient yourself—you’re rubbing your heavy eyes when you finally get the door. 

"Hi."

"Hey," says Spencer, hands awkwardly shoved into his pajama pants pockets. It’s funny, really. He never gets any better at this. 

You step aside and he enters the room, looking around as you close and relock the door. 

"Did I wake you?"

"How could you tell?"

"You’re in pajamas. And you look tired. I mean—you don’t look bad. You never look bad, I just meant… you don’t look tired but you’re not—I didn’t mean to—"

"Relax," you yawn, putting him out of his misery. "I was joking. I know I look tired." You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. "It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow."

"Yeah, I got, uh, sidetracked. Sorry."

He was reading. If it was anyone else, you'd be offended--but a sinkhole could open up under Spencer's feet and he probably wouldn't notice if he was absorbed in a book.

You shrug, a knowing smile lifting the corner of your mouth. 

"It’s fine. But I don’t know if tonight is a good night. I really am exhausted."

His eyebrows dart up. 

"That’s fine. That’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh—"

When you don’t move from in front of the door, he pauses, unsure. You bite the inside of your cheek, studying his rangy frame and choice of clothing. Blue pajama pants, slippers, grey CalTech zip up hoodie. It feels wrong to describe a 6'1 man as adorable, but that’s how he looks in his sleep clothes. There’s a very real chance, you find yourself thinking, that you are the only member of the BAU to ever see him in something other than slacks and a button-down. He looks so cozy that you kind of really want him in your bed even if he’s not doing anything but sleeping. The invitation slips out before you can think too hard about it. 

"You could… stay, anyway, if you want?"

His mouth parts slightly, and those eyebrows raise again. There’s a moment of awkward silence and you are very much beginning to regret your offer, wondering if you somehow violated the sanctity of your co-workers/friends with benefits situtationship. Clumsily you try to backtrack. 

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can—"

"No, no! You didn’t, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me to stay in your room. I’m right across the hall, I can go back if you want me to."

You smile awkwardly, silent relief replacing the brief anxiety. 

"It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before." And not like you wouldn’t have ended up doing it tonight anyway, if things had gone as originally intended.

He chuckles, looking to the floor and nodding. The blush on his face does not go unnoticed by you. "Fair enough."

It’s incredibly endearing how nervous he still gets after six months of this little arrangement. 

"Do you wanna get your stuff, or…"

"No, that’s okay. I’ll just go back early tomorrow. The chances of someone seeing me leave your room are significantly higher if I do it so soon after entering."

You squint, unable to tell if he’s fucking with you or if that’s an actual statistically sound probability. And then you realize, blissfully, that you don’t really care. 

"Okay, well. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to brush my teeth."

Once you’re enclosed in the bathroom, hotel vanity lights blinding you as you brush, you find that there is a jittery sort of apprehension buzzing in your chest. But that’s silly. As you yourself pointed out, the two of you have shared a bed many times over the past few months. But the sleeping together is always a byproduct of the sleeping together. Never have you shared a bed in a completely decent, virtuous, strictly non-sexual manner. It’s always been a matter of convenience—less bother if he doesn’t have to worry about sneaking back into his room in the middle of the night when you’re both exhausted. Or maybe that’s just what you’ve been telling yourselves. 

You rinse your mouth out and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and finding that Spencer has indeed made himself comfortable. The hotel room is dark and he’s already under the covers, fiddling with his phone. 

"What time should I set the alarm for?" He asks, looking over at you as you crawl into bed, drawing the covers over yourself. "I was thinking 6:23. That should give me enough time to—"

"Sounds perfect," you affirm, wiggling under the blanket as you get comfortable. He schedules the alarm and sets his phone on the bedside table, dousing the room in complete darkness. Your eyes stay open despite, waiting for them to adjust. A few moments of utter silence and stillness pass, and you can tell Spencer is completely stiff next to you. 

"Spencer."

“Yeah,” he answers immediately. Like he’s even more wired about this whole situation than you are. 

"You know you don’t have to avoid touching me at all costs, right? I’m not a leper."

He looses a nervous laugh. 

"I know. We’ve just never really done this."

You frown at the darkness.

"We’ve definitely slept in the same bed before."

"Yeah, but… this feels different."

That, you can’t argue with. Can friends with benefits share a bed just to be near each other? Does that blur some line? And why does it feel more intimate than the sex? 

Screw it. If there is one thing you don’t want your relationship with Spencer to be, it is uncomfortable. Uncertain, you can work with. But not uncomfortable. You reach for him, hand sliding under the duvet—and find his hand already waiting for yours. 

"I don’t think it’s that different," you lie, interlacing your fingers together slowly. 

"Prolonged physical non-sexual contact does have measurable health benefits…" the words are murmured, like the moment is fragile and he doesn’t want to shatter it. 

"Can’t argue with the facts," you breathe, trying to modulate the shakiness of your voice. But you have a feeling you’re doing about as good of a job at concealing your nerves as he is. He shifts.

"Can I…"

"Yeah."

Your heart is pounding as he slips one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, pulling you close. Instinctually you curl into him, slinging your top leg over him as you’ve done before, but always dismissed as post-sex brain chemicals making you feel all warm and fuzzy. A neurological reaction that is so solidly scientific, neither of you ever questioned it. But it feels bigger now. 

He exhales as you settle against each other—a sound of relief that mirrors your own. He’s so warm, so safe as he envelops you, physically and sensorially. In such close proximity, so clear-headed, you notice each layer of his scent. Toothpaste, lavender, vetiver, detergent. You sort of feel like a creep, but you can’t deny how comforting it is. Nor can you deny the pirouette your heart does when he begins minutely rubbing your back, like he’s not even thinking about it. 

"Goodnight," you whisper into his shirt. 

"Goodnight," he whispers back. 

You fall asleep pretty quickly after that. 

------------------------------

It’s unclear what wakes you up—maybe it’s the blue-grey dawn light filtering in through the filthy window (doubtful, it’s still mostly dark) or maybe it’s the blinking green digital clock on the nightstand. 5:02 AM. Your alarm will go off in an hour and 21 minutes.

Sometime in the night you shifted, turning over in your sleep, but Spencer is still holding you close. The arm slung so casually over your waist is slightly domineering, but you manage to rotate again and face him once more. Mere inches away from his face you can see every detail. His expression is so peaceful, it makes your heart ache. 

But you’re just friends. 

Perhaps he felt you moving, because his eyes flutter open and you watch as they flood with consciousness. He takes you in, takes in his arm over your waist. For a split second you’re nervous he’ll pull away. 

"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep. 

"Five."

"Why are you awake? We have over an hour til the alarm goes off."

"Sometimes waking up early is okay."

His eyes flicker between your own, and momentarily you’re paralyzed as you realize this is a limbo state for the two of you in which you’ve never operated. You don’t know what’s acceptable. You don’t know what to do. Being close to him feels so good, that the idea of separating hurts. But you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or—

He leans forward and kisses you softly. In the blue light of dawn, rather than frenzied and hidden in the dark, a desperate tear of clothes and teeth and hands—it’s almost freeing. All the anxiety you were feeling just seconds ago begins to melt. 

Friends. 

"You looked anxious," is his whispered answer after he pulls away a moment later, like a kiss is the simplest remedy in the world. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "We should go back to sleep."

"I don’t want to go back to sleep."

The corner of his mouth twitches as he studies you.  

"No? What do you want?"

Emboldened by your mutual indiscretion, it’s your turn to kiss him. You feel him smile against your lips, hand finding the back of your neck and raking up through your hair to pull you closer. 

The delirium of sleep seems to have softened you, filed down the rough edges of your boundaries and kicked away the lines in the sand. What’s a kiss or two when you’ve just woken up? A small, innocuous display of affection while you’re still barely conscious. Nobody could fault either of you for that. People don’t think clearly when they’ve just been asleep.

So what if your lips part against his, and his other hand finds its way under your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your waist and hips? So what if you hitch that leg over him again and press closer?

Spencer breaks the kiss, still ghosting over your lips. 

"I thought it wasn’t a good night?"

"It’s not night time anymore, is it, genius?"

You sneak another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently as you pull away. 

Instead of whatever array of responses you were expecting, Spencer smiles slightly, eyes almost sparkling in the faint light. The hand on your hip moves to your face, gently thumbing across your cheek. He begins to say something, and stops himself—biting his lip to hold back the words. 

"What?" you ask, heart dropping. Illusion fracturing. 

"I was just—" he begins, pausing for a moment before the words all come out in a rush. "I was just going to tell you how beautiful you are, but I don’t know if that’s something I should say, or if it would feel too… I don’t know…"

He trails off. A rare instance in which he doesn’t have the words. 

You do. Intimate. Real. Romantic. And he’s right, it does feel too much like all of those things. But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it, perhaps more than is strictly good for you. 

"It’s fine. Thank you."

He continues chewing on his lip for a moment. 

"Did I just ruin the mood?"

"No," you laugh, "not at all."

"Thank god," he sighs, surging forward again. 

"Since when do you thank god?" You manage between kisses. 

He moves to press his lips to your jaw and down your neck. 

"Do you want me to talk about the historical and cultural transition of religious expressions into ubiquitous secular colloquialisms right now?"

"Kind of," you breathe.

"No you don’t," he murmurs against your neck as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "You want me to take your clothes off."

Well, he’s not wrong there. 

You help him tug the shirt over your head before leaning back into the pillows as he situates himself over you and lavishes more kisses down your neck and collarbones, pausing to suck a mark only when he knows it’s low enough to be covered by your clothing later. 

You gasp when his lips brush over your nipple, before running his tongue over the sensitive skin. He glances up at you, and though his mouth is occupied, you can see the humor in his eyes. He loves how sensitive you are—how easy it is to get a reaction out of you. 

Of course, you continue to prove him right when he takes the other into his mouth, trying to hold back your little whimpers as he darts his tongue over the peak. Maybe somebody else wouldn’t hear them, but Spencer does. He’s hyper attuned to the sounds you make. Something of a catalogue has begun to form in the back of his mind; he knows exactly what each noise means and how to get them out of you. 

Once satisfied, he moves to press a kiss to your sternum. 

"You’re gonna be quiet for me, right?" Another kiss above your bellybutton. "Because Morgan is sleeping right on the other side of that wall, and we don’t want to wake him up."

"I’ll be quiet," you promise, somewhat breathlessly. Spencer’s mouth trails lower until he’s pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely naked. He tosses them somewhere on the floor and hooks your legs over his shoulders. 

"Good." He plants one last kiss to your thigh and the next one lands right between your legs. 

You regret the need to be silent almost as soon as he drags his tongue over your clit. It’s not like the two of you have ever had the privilege of making a lot of noise, as the hotel rooms are always so close to each other, but it doesn’t make it any easier. 

Instead you opt to rake your hands through his hair and try to take deep breaths. But he knows exactly what you like—he knows starting light and slow, teasing around your most sensitive spot will work you up to the brink of insanity, just like he knows gentle circles make your back arch and elicit the prettiest little moans. 

"More," you beg, and the hands wrapped around your thighs rub soothingly, reassuring you that if you can just be patient you’ll get what you want. 

He takes your aching clit into his mouth, sucking lightly and you’re forced to clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure you can’t hold back. Spencer keeps it up until you’re practically riding his face, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue when you get too close. 

"Fuck, please, Spence," you whisper through your fingers, hips rutting in your desperation. Somehow it always ends up like this—with him in charge and you begging. Not that you have a problem with it, of course. 

He hums into you, and if the way his tongue moves back to circling your clit with newfound fervor is any indication, is apparently satisfied with your entreaty. 

You gasp and try to control your breathy moans, but his mouth feels so good on you that your vision is going out and you’re losing touch with reality ever so slightly. You use the last of your brain power to bite down on the back of your wrist, hoping it adequately muffles the noises you make as you come on Spencer’s tongue and he greedily continues lapping at you. There’s really no way of knowing—your ears are ringing anyway. 

When you come to a moment later he’s peppering kisses on your thighs, rubbing your hips gently. 

"So pretty," he murmurs, climbing back up so your lips can meet again. "Everything about you is pretty."

You paw at his shirt, signaling that you want it off as you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, feel your slippery arousal staining the kiss. Spencer helps you, sitting up briefly to unzip his hoodie and pull off his shirt. 

You’re the one to drag him back down, and you notice that he pulls the covers back over the both of you in a sweet gesture he probably didn’t even think about. 

"Need you to fuck me," you beg, reaching down to try and undress him further. 

"So crude. What happened to my nice, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck, but helps you with his pants anyway. 

"You must have me confused with someone else."

"Doubtful."

You don’t have much time to consider what that could mean before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know. 

"There she is," Spencer croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head has dropped to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?"

It’s been a while, you realize, since that last case in Maine. He always takes some getting used to. Hardly able to think around the pressure of his cock you nod, trying to string together a few words. 

"Fuck, I need a second." The words come out choked, but you manage. Spencer rubs your hip, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. 

"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you."

He curses to himself, dropping his head momentarily. You’re so fucking soft, and warm, and perfect, he can’t think straight. But he has to try because he has to take care of you. 

"Spence," you gasp, failing to verbally communicate the intensity of the physical sensation. 

"I know, baby," comes his sympathetic coo. "You know you can take me. Deep breaths."

"Mhm," you squeak, trying to take follow his directions and soften your muscles. Spencer keeps rubbing soothingly over your hips, stomach, whatever he can get his hands on, really, pressing kisses all over your face and telling you how good you are, how perfect you feel for him. After a few moments he feels you fluttering around him and experimentally pulls out halfway, before pushing back in equally as slowly. Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way. 

"Perfect, baby. Such a good listener, did exactly what I asked."

You cry out when he begins fucking you impossibly deeper, but still so slow and sweet.

"You feel so fucking good for me," he groans. "This is what you were made for, huh?" You agree enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut. 

"Only for you."

Just three words—but he wasn’t expecting to like hearing you say that as much as he does. A strong desire to possess you overtakes him—one that he’ll probably have the decency to feel guilty about later, but for now feels fucking fantastic and intoxicating. 

"Only me?"

You moan an affirmation. 

"Good. I don’t want anyone else fucking you, do you understand me?"

"Yes!"

"I’m the only one who gets to touch you," he breathes, speeding up ever so slightly, "nobody else is going to feel you like this. Such a good girl, spreading her legs for me at five in the fucking morning. You’re not doing this for anybody else, baby."

"Uh-uh, please, pleasepleaseplease Spence—"

He knows what you need, reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. 

You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans that have probably become just a bit too loud given the whole hotel thing. 

No words are exchanged between the two of you as you near the finish line for a change, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm body-slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Spencer and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes. 

You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. Other than the panting, you’re both silent for a while. Spencer seems to gather himself sooner than you do, finally breaking the quiet. 

"You okay?"

All you can manage is a little squeak, at which he looses a breathy chuckle. His hand slides to your hip, gently stroking the skin with a thumb. 

"Need your words, angel girl."

"I’m okay," you coo into his shoulder, but he has to strain to hear it above his own breathing. 

"Yeah? Why so quiet?"

But it seems that at least for the moment, he’s gotten all the words he can out of you. When he tries to move, you whimper indignantly, clutching onto him tighter. 

"I really did a number on you this time, huh?" He laughs when you nod into him. "Are you falling asleep?"

"Mhm," you hum dreamily, little puffs of warm air slowing against his neck. 

"You can have…" he cranes his head to check the digital clock, "48 minutes."

"An hour."

He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you. 

"I said 48 minutes."

But it doesn’t matter—you’re already asleep, or close enough to it. Spencer takes the opportunity to shift you to your side, and the way you wrap around him like a vine even unconsciously makes his heart ache. He really should go now—the earlier he gets out of your room the less likely certain complications will arise—but how can he possibly leave you like this? A vulnerable, dreamy girl with tangled hair haloing around her on the pillow case, clinging to him with blind trust that he’ll watch over her as she sleeps? No—there’s no way he’s leaving yet. Instead, he brings you closer. 48 perfect minutes will go by far too quickly, he’s sure. 

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

I’ve never requested anything before so sorry if this doesn’t make any sense but like lando is at the gym or just out of the house and while hes away we start streaming on his account blah blah we play something and we he comes home he doesnt know your streaming and he comes up to us and wraps his hand round our neck to kiss us and everyone freaks out and we’re shocked (do anthing from this point) thank you so much if you take this request totally okay if you dont

Such Public Affection - LN

Lando having stuff to do with Quadrant, he does sometimes tell y/n she cane come because he is so easily distracted by her and it works against the productivity.

She takes it as a compliment of her effect on him and just finds other things to do. Though her physical distance isn't enough to stop him calling her every other hour to check in and messaging her between that. The man is clingy to say the least, but she'd never claim to be mad about it.

"Alright, everyone...so I finally figured out how to go live on Lando's set up. I've literally never done this before but I have played on Lando's set up before even though he prefers to be here incase I break something...which has happened before. He does actually let me use all this...stuff, it's just sometimes I don't know what I'm doing. Umm...so let's play something. What should I play chat?" Y/n asks as she flicks between the choice of the games. "I'm thinking...sims. I love sims. I've got a family on here. Lando and I have 17 kids, 12 cats and 4 dogs. Also like 5 ponds of fish."

She ends up spending two hours showing everyone the excessively large Sim family. Telling everyone about the children, pets and showing how she likes to use cheats for extra money and become impossibly rich.

"See...I think we need another room, but like I don't know where-I'll just build a whole new floor." Y/n beams, bright as she nods going ahead with her idea.

Now y/n hasn't actually been thinking to read the chat, because she covered it with a Spotify tab after deciding it was too quiet and she needed music for it.

So she doesn't hear her boyfriend's return and when he walks in, he doesn't assume she's live-streaming. Because she doesn't know how to live stream and there's no chat or evidence to suggest she is.

He moves up behind her snaking his hand around to take a hold of her neck and force her head to tilt back, silencing her with a long, fairly hot kiss that she for certain was not expecting in the slightest. But with a gently squeeze of her throat, he rubs his thumb over her drumming pulse point.

"Hello baby. How's the kids?" Lando jokes while she looks at him still looking shocked and almost apologetic. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm live." Y/n whispers as if it's going to rewind him from being so shamelessly affectionate towards his girlfriend.

"You're live?" Lando frowns making her nod and laugh nervously before clicking to bring the chat that has frozen in the frenzy of too many people trying to comment too quickly.

Lando suddenly turns clicking a few things and turning back to her.

"You're not anymore." He states simply since it's not something he wants to deal with today. "Come on, time to smother you in cuddles and just relax. That photoshoot for the new Quadrant line was tiring."

"But-"

"We can deal with it later." Lando assures her then bending down and picking her up, hiking her legs up around his waist before carrying her to the bedroom and lying down on the bed with her underneath it him.

"Sorry."

"Don't, y/n. I kissed you and you didn't see it coming. I'm sure all the assholes who chase after you are going to say I don't treat you right, but I don't care." Lando grumbles feeling her run her hands back through his hair.

"You treat me very well and we both know it. That's why you put your hand around my neck." Y/n laughs lightly before sighing and reaching for her phone from her pocket. "Oh wow, family and friends are sending me messages about it-oh and people are suspecting you're dismembering my body because you looked super pissed off when you ended the stream."

"Oh yeah, a fit of rage." Lando hums sarcastically while she grins at him and he turns his head to look up at her. "Did you have fun playing sims?"

"Yeah, we had two more babies."

"Wow, 19 kids? Maybe we should finally get to work on making that happen."

"You're hilarious. Actually so funny." Y/n comments with a snort gently pushing his head to the side.

"Mmm...maybe 19 is too many, they make tv shows." Lando nods while she mirrors his actions in agreement. "You looked like you were about to cry after I kissed you. I thought you were upset about it."

"No. I just knew it had been captured for like a few thousand people and you like keeping the kisses away from public eyes." Y/n sighs making him frown.

"Because people make such a big deal about it." Lando frowns then smiling lightly. "I like having you to myself."

"I know you do, that's why I felt bad. Because you didn't even know."

"It's fine." Lando dismisses then shoving himself up her body and catching her in another kiss and in a quick move, he rolls them over so she's on top of him. "I love you."

"I love you too. A lot...which is why the sim versions of us always have unprotected sex and a boat load of kids. One more and we could have enough till fill every seat in the F1 grid." Y/n gasps in excitement. "We'll get them go karts!"

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando #norris #lando norris mclaren #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris stream #ln4 one shot #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 fic #ln4 x you #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris one shot #ln4 x y/n #ln4 stream #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren racing #ln4

[luveline]

spoilers for spider-man: across the spider-verse below

please don’t read any further if you are avoiding spoilers

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel hops dimensions expecting a new family, and a new life. he’s not expecting you —featuring a tired miguel and his confused but adoring wife. or, miguel gets the comfort he so desperately needs. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k

tw. gun mention/no graphic scenes

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel seems different when he comes home that night. You've loved him for years, you know his face. He looks slightly younger and older at the same time, impossibly so. He looks like he has bad news and he doesn't want to tell you. Something harrowing. How else can you explain his expression? 

You stand up from the dinner table. "Hey," you say gently. "Is there something wrong?" 

He isn't convincing when he answers, "What? Uh, no. Nothing's wrong." 

"Something looks wrong." 

You step in front of him and lift your chin. Usually, he'd look down with a smirk, or at the very least a smile, but he seems weary. You lift your hand to his cheek, pinching it between your fingers without malice. 

"Smile, handsome. You have a lovely smile." 

He smiles. His lips part just slightly. "You… you really love me. You're happy." 

"We're happy," you correct. "Me, you, and Gabs forever, right?" 

"Gabs?" he asks. 

"Don't start with me. Gabriella's a mouthful. A beautiful mouthful," you concede. "I still think we should've named her Sofia. And yeah, Miguel. I love you. Really really. Don't forget it." 

You make him sit at the kitchen table. It's a selfish manoeuvre; you want him to sit so you can actually reach his hair. Your husband is the tallest man you've ever met. 

"Did you get a haircut?" you ask, running your fingers through his hair slowly. He shivers at your touch, and tilts his head back in question. "You did. That's such a betrayal, my love. I've been cutting your hair for going on six years now, I'm suddenly not good enough?" 

"You're good enough," he says. He really sounds so strange. 

"I'm joking. Miguel, if there's something wrong, you really need to tell me. I can make it better. Well, I can try." You bite your lip, unnerved by his quiet, solemn air. 

"Am I being weird?" he asks.

"No," you say, worried he thinks you're judging him. You never would. (He's being really weird.) "Of course not, you're just quiet tonight, that's all. Did you have a bad day at work?" 

"I– I got mugged. On the way home from work. I forgot the– the milk." 

"You what?" you ask, eyes widening in shock. Miguel's kind of gigantic. You've always said that you pity the fool who tries it, but apparently he's less hardy than you thought. A mugging explains his weird behaviour these last five minutes, at least. "What happened? Sweetheart, are you okay?" 

You take his face into both hands. He has dark circles under his eyes and a scratch along his jaw, but he seems unhurt. You suppose being attacked would age you instantaneously too. 

"Miguel, are you in shock? Should I take you to the hospital?" 

"I'm okay. I just feel strange." 

"Are you sure?” He nods hurriedly. You purse your lips. “I'll make you something warm to drink, that'll help. As long as you're not hurt, right? Did he take your wallet? We'll have to cancel your credit card." 

Miguel catches your shirt before you can go too far. 

"Hm?" you hum in question. 

Miguel visibly deliberates. His eyebrows lift ever so slightly. "Could I hug you?" 

The hurting and worry you have for him intensify before falling on the back-burner. You can shove your own feelings aside easily if he needs comforting. 

"I don't think you have to ask me," you say, offering your arms. 

Miguel is usually a short but meaningful hugger. You've hugged so many times and in what feels like every place on earth, and he's such a tall man that even if he doesn't mean for them to be, his arms are all encompassing.

It surprises you that this hug is different. He's tentative. When his hand falls to the small of your back it slots into place, and you can feel his relief like a palpable thing. 

"You’re okay," you say, your lips at his crown, your legs between his.

He's keeping space between you, and you don't like it. You press yourself as close to him as possible, your arms behind his shoulders, cupping the back of his head. Soft hair tickles your palm.

"Was it scary?" 

"Was what scary?" he asks. You don't mention his little sniff. He's smelling your hair. 

"Being mugged? Did he have a gun?" 

"Yeah, he did." 

"Oh, I see. There's no shame in being scared, you know that?" 

"I'm not scared. I wasn't scared when it happened. I just wanted to come home to you." 

You frown. His admission is like a barb in your chest, aimed true for your heart. "I'm so glad you did," you confess against his forehead, a murmur of sound. "So, so glad. I don't know what I'd do without you." 

You kiss his head three times in a row. The last kiss lingers, his arms slackening around you. 

You pull away, not wanting to smother him. Whoever's watching knows he's had enough of you these last few years. 

"Where–" Miguel clears his throat. "Where's Gabriella?" 

"She's in her room. Call her." 

You're hoping time with her will bring him back into focus. He's clearly more affected by this than he's willing to say. You don't know how you feel about it. Terrified, because you could've lost him. Euphoric that you didn't. You'd had this funny feeling all day long, and it's weird, you’d felt that something bad happened, a moment at the sink with Gabriella singing in her room, the clock ticking on the wall. Miguel late, but promising to bring the groceries you needed home with him before dinner. 

"Gabriella?" he calls up the stairs. You watch from the stove. 

You'll grab the pan and make him some hot cocoa. Just as soon as he stops looking scared. 

"Daddy?" Gabriella asks back. She's audibly ecstatic, and her footsteps are a stampede from her bedroom. You can see her from the kitchen when she gets to the bottom of the stairs. "Dad, pick me up!" 

"Oh, right," Miguel says, leaning down to hold her. 

He pulls her with all the grace of an elephant to his chest, and she nearly chins him. 

"Woah, careful." 

"Dad, you're super late. Mom said I can yell at you for being late." 

"You can yell at me, if you want to." He gives her a curious look. "I'm sorry for taking so long." 

Gabriella tilts her head to the side, dark hair shifting. She's a gorgeous little girl and her dad can't withstand it, melting as you hoped he would, the taut string of his back finally cut in two.  

"I don't want to yell at you," she whispers. 

"Good, because I don't want you to yell," he whispers back. 

Gabriella leans back in his arms and giggles thickly. He almost drops her, and has to readjust his hold on her back. 

"I'm so happy you're home!" she cheers, bringing her little hands up together from her chest and thrusting them out like fireworks. "You work too much! I thought doctors was s'posed to make everyone better and go home." 

"I'm not that kind of doctor," he says. 

You turn from where you've brought cocoa powder and milk to an emulsified simmer on the stovetop and beam at him. It's your favourite thing in the whole world when she mixes it up. Ever since she found his ID card with DR. written clear as day before his name, she's been under the impression that he works at the general hospital. Alchemex might break medical thresholds, but it is far from a hospital. 

"Are you having hot cocoa with your dad?" you ask Gabriella. 

She gasp in excitement and lists toward you. Miguel almost drops her for a second time. "Yes, oh my gosh!" 

"Well, come and sit. What mug?" 

Gabriella can't decide on what mug she wants; there's the orange cat with too many whiskers, there's the black one with bright white stars. After some deliberation, she decides on her and Miguel's matching daddy-daughter mugs.

"You're having some too, right?" he asks you. 

"Don't I always?" you ask. "Though I do want to protest the mugs. Where's my mug? Don't I deserve number one mom?" You kiss the top of Gabriella's head where she languishes in Miguel's lap, before placing their hot cocoa down far from her arm's reach. "It's hot." 

Miguel doesn't touch his. You blow cold air at Gabriella's and dip your fingertip into it periodically, content to spend some time with them both in amicable quiet. Gabriella just loves him to pieces, and she leans back in his arms with her eyes closed, basking in his closeness. 

She squints at you with one eye. "Dad?" 

Miguel doesn't answer. You nudge his foot. 

"What?" he asks.

"You're not doing the thing." 

"The thing?" 

You frown. 

"Yeah, dad." She huffs and curls his arm manually across her front. "Please, I want the kisses." 

He looks at you, completely lost. You're feeling similarly confused. "She wants you to kiss her hair," you say, wondering if perhaps he's suffering from stress related amnesia. 

He leans down carefully and kisses her hair. It's not the usual enthusiastic kiss, and he doesn't bother blowing in her ear after. 

Gabriella glares at him. "My ear!" 

"Blow in her ear," you mouth. 

He blows gently into her ear. She shivers, shudders, and laughs up a storm. 

When the cocoa's been drunk and the mugs washed and put away, Gabriella races upstairs, promising to return with a storybook and the drawing she made earlier in the day once she’s changed into her pyjamas. Miguel looks less lost than he had. In fact, he looks normal. The warm drink has put colour in his cheeks, and his daughter's cuddles have done their job. He's relaxed. He's forgotten the fear of the mugging, you're almost sure of it. 

You waver beside him. "Can I sit with you, or am I too heavy?" 

"Why would you be too heavy?" he asks. 

"You always say I'm too heavy," you say, sitting down on his thighs. They feel solid, a little different from usual. Miguel works out, but this is strange. He must be more tense than you thought. "It's your worst joke." 

"I'm sorry. I won't say it if it upsets you," he says, his voice rough and low. 

"Who said anything about that?" He's never called you heavy to be cruel. 

"Sorry," he apologises again. "I think all the excitement today messed me up." 

You spread your fingers wide across his chest, his heart beating a surface below. "It's okay. You don't have to react any one way…" You rub the tip of your nose against his jaw lightly. "I'm so glad you're okay. I had this weird feeling like something bad happened to you, you know?" 

Miguel laughs and coughs at the same time. It borders on being distressed. He's really worrying you. "You did?" he asks. 

"Mm-hm. But you're okay." You work hard to sound sure. 

His hand slides between your legs, fingertips digging into the soft inside of your upper thigh, though it doesn't stay there. He pulls away, looking flustered. "Sorry." 

"For what?" You blink. 

"I don't know." 

You laugh and press a kiss to the column of his throat, your nose squished against him. "I was thinking we'd watch that new movie tonight, with Harry Woodson, but it has guns and stuff. Would that still be okay?" 

He puts his hand behind your ear and guides your head back to look you in the eye. It's a familiar touch. He looks like himself again, though you truly are offended by his haircut. Maybe something happened at work and fried it off. 

"You're really something special," he says quietly. 

"How so?" 

His face softens with your flirting tone. "You're kind. You're so kind. I've never met someone like you." 

"What are you talking about?" you mumble. It's your turn to feel flustered, jellified by the earnestness lining his features. 

"You're sweet, and soft, and so pretty," he says, matching your tone. He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time. 

You understand the feeling. Sometimes you look at him and can't believe he's your love. 

"Soft," you repeat. "Are you trying to say something?" 

"Like that. That joke. You don't even sound mad." 

"You don't have to be so amazed. I've been like this since we met, haven't I? I'm hardly ever angry with you." You follow down from his eye to his jaw with your knuckle, tracing a tear he hasn't shed. He's spun you into thoughtfulness, and more than that —reverential fondness for him aches in the very centre of your stomach.  

"I must have some good luck," he says. 

His near death experience has inspired a wave of sappiness. 

You lean in until your forehead touches his, giving him time to close his eyes or lean away if he wants to. 

"I love you," you say simply. "You're not lucky, you're amazing, and all this good you see in me? I see it in you, O'Hara." You huff a laugh, breath fanning over his top lip as you steal a wonky kiss. You pull back. "You're sure–" 

Miguel kisses you. His hand flies to the back of your neck and his lips are eager, his head tilted to one side to accommodate your nose. He deepens the kiss and it's a mess, really, nothing like his usual kisses, no practised ease, nor confident touches. His fingertips push at the hairs lining the nape of your neck as though he's not sure what to do with his hand. It's like kissing him for the very first time. 

It's not a bad kiss. 

You kiss back slowly. You're the steadying constant to his hotheadedness, in kissing and in everything else, pulling time into an endless stretch of his mouth under yours, his body heat seeping into your skin. 

The sharp point of a tooth catches your bottom lip. You gasp into his mouth and flinch away from him. 

"Um, ouch? What was that, handsome, did you get your teeth filed to spikes?" you ask, probing your lip, a flood of giggles slipping between your fingers. 

He looks at you like you've lit the sky one star at a time. 

"Sorry," he says. "I'll be more careful, I swear." 

"Sure," you laugh. "Well, you'll have to be more careful later. You promised Gabriella you'd read her the Wishing Tree, and she's expecting a performance. Voices included." 

He adjusts you in his lap with more strength than you knew he had. "Will you help?" 

You'll always help him. He doesn't even need to ask. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfic #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara scenario #miguel o’hara blurb #miguel o’hara oneshot #spider-man: across the spider-verse #spider-man: across the spider-verse spoilers #spider-man: across the spider-verse fanfiction #across the spider-verse spoilers #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse spoilers #spiderman across the spider-verse spoilers #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara fanfic #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara drabble #miguel ohara scenario #miguel ohara blurb

[tusks-and-claws]

I’m Not What You Need (But I Am)

Miguel O’Hara x female reader

Summary:  “When you sit there/acting like you know me/acting like you only brought me here to get below me”

You have a concern to bring to Miguel, but when he hears what you really think of him, he doesn’t let you off so easily

Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, kind of missionary idk what to call it, dominant Miguel, brat taming, orgasm denial, dirty talk, choking, sort of strangers to lovers, maybe a little bit of a hatefuck if you squint, reader is a Spider person, def a bit out of character

Wordcount: 3.5k

Find on Ao3 here :3

"Why are you coming to me with such trivial annoyances?" Miguel O'Hara asked you from the platform of his lab, at least ten feet above you. He was tapping on various screens, not giving you eye contact. It felt purposeful, pointed. 

"I'm sorry, I thought you wanted to know when fights broke out. Keeping the peace and all that." You felt yourself growing warm, anxiety fluttering in your stomach. 

"What I want," he said, his tone growing short. "Is for people to sort out their own bullshit, so I can worry about what's important. Which, if you haven't noticed, is much bigger than you and I and some stupid fight in the lobby."

As soon as he said it, you knew he was right. But he was still being an asshole. You were only trying to help.

You put your hands up in defense. "I just thought you'd wanna know." Then whispered under your breath "douchebag," as you turned to walk away.

But your progress was halted by something tugging at your wrist. You looked down to see what it was, and closed your eyes, quietly cursing yourself. Neon red webbing. 

"You wanna run that by me again?" Miguel asked. 

You swallowed a lump in your throat. "Nothing, it was nothing. I'll just leave." 

You tried to pull free, but he was reeling you in, like a helpless fish on a hook. "Oh, no," he said, sounding somewhat amused. "No, I heard you. 'Douchebag,' eh? Not very creative. But…" he paused when you were closer, close enough that he could look directly down at you. "I want to hear you say it again. Face to face, this time."

You frowned. "How can we be 'face to face' when you're so high above me?"

He wagged a finger at you. "You've got a point there." In a sudden flash of tingling, your Spider sense triggered. But Miguel was too fast, he'd been doing this for far longer than you had. In an instant, you were wrapped in neon red and being hoisted upward onto the platform. He planted you right in front of him, putting his hands on his hips and leaning down so his eyes were level with yours. "Happy?"

You huffed. Why was he like this? A self-satisfied grin played at the edges of his plush lips as he scrutinized you with bloodshot eyes. Finally registering how close he was, and how huge he was, you started turning red. He could throw you around like you weighed nothing, couldn't he? He had just lifted you up here with hardly any effort. You'd never thought about another Spider like this. Sure, you were all strong, but there was something in Miguel's upper body that you couldn't free from your thoughts, something in those massive shoulders, something-

"Well?" He asked, breaking your trance. "I don't have all day."

You met his eyes. They looked so tired. You didn't want to insult him anymore. You wanted to leave and pretend like the thoughts you had about him never existed. 

But you knew what he needed to hear. 

"Douchebag," you repeated. 

He smiled, and it was humorless. "It's nice to know that this is what people think of me. That I did this for all of us, and everyone in our worlds. And the word that comes to mind when people talk to me is…?" He raised an eyebrow prompting you. 

"...Douchebag."

"That's right!" He pointed a finger at you. "I don't ask for much. I ask for people to listen and respect the operation. And that means respecting my time, too, eh? No more coming right to me with petty fights that people can solve on their own." 

You just stared back up at him, hardly registering his words. Respect time, no more fights, whatever. His hair looked so soft. 

"Got it?" He asked, starting to sound frustrated again. 

You nodded.

"I need to hear you say it."

"G-got it." 

"Good." He patted your shoulder. What an odd gesture. It was very nearly caring. "Let's get you out of here." He flexed his hand, talons coming free. He quickly swiped at the webbing he had wrapped you in, the strands snapping and falling to the floor in shreds.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. His brow furrowed. "Listen, I know I'm scary, but I'm just doing my job."

You shook your head. "I'm- I'm not scared."

"Are you not? Dios mio, I can hear your blood pumping." 

His heightened senses were going to be your death sentence. The longer he stood staring at you, the worse your thoughts became. But you couldn't bring yourself to move away from his attention. You crossed your arms, trying to make yourself small so he would stop looking at you. 

He raised an eyebrow. "What, do you wanna be friends or something?"

No, you thought, I want us to be something different. 

Despite your best efforts, you blurted out, "no, in all honesty, I've never really liked you that much." Why did you say that? What was wrong with you? 

He cocked his head, his eyes widening, processing what you just said. He started to nod. "Oh, wow. Great. Thank you so much. What a productive conversation. And you're still here because…?"

"Because you getting the last word in is infuriating to me." You couldn't stop yourself. You knew this was bad, but you couldn't stop.

"How do you think I feel? You came here for the sole purpose of bothering me and now you won't leave me the shock alone." He pointed at you again, forefinger lightly jabbing your collarbone. "You. Can. Leave. This is my lab, you little brat." He spoke the words through gritted teeth, and you could just barely see his elongated canines, gleaming and sharp in the light of the lab's computer screens. 

Oh no.

You stood there, just blinking at him. You've never seen someone so annoyed looking so attractive at the same time. It wasn't fucking fair.

He suddenly started, the anger from his face vanishing, confusion taking its place. "Oh yeah?" He asked, his voice taking on a mocking tone. "That's why your heart is pounding?"

Fuck.

"What, uh… what do you-"

"Don't play dumb with me.” He placed a gloved finger under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. “I can smell that you're turned on. Is that why you came here to bother me? So you could gawk at me? And maybe I'd fuck you if you were lucky."

You backed up, nearly slipping off the edge of the raised platform. Miguel reached out and caught your hand, pulling you in close to him. Unconsciously, you splayed your hands on his chest to steady yourself. His body was so warm and inviting, and you were drawn into it like a little planet circling a blazing sun. 

What was happening, what were you doing?

"Is that what you thought?" He asked, seeming to echo the questions you asked yourself, his voice growing more quiet as he looked down at you.

You quickly raised your hands away from him, closing them into loose fists and crossing your arms again. "No," you said, truthfully. 

"But you're thinking it now." He nodded. "Aren't you?"

After a pause, you nodded too.

"I really need to hear you say it." He probed.

"I'm…. I'm thinking about it now."

"Oh, are you? Thinking about what?"

You swore under your breath, doing a poor job of hiding a scowl. You should've known he wasn't going to make it easy for you. 

"Thinking about you fucking me." You grimaced after admitting it, waiting for him to mock you and disown you. 

He smiled. "That's funny. I thought I was a douchebag." 

"Fuck you, man!" You threw your arms up into the air, turning around and preparing to hop down from the platform. 

“No no no, come on, now,” he said, grasping your wrist with a large, warm hand. His grip was surprisingly gentle. “Why don’t you give me a chance to change your mind?”

You looked him in the eyes, and there was a small spark there. You sighed, unable to deny the reaction your body had to him. You wanted him. And he was offering himself to you. What reality was this where that was even possible? Not ten minutes ago, you were hardly closer than strangers. “Okay,” you said, offering him a small grin. “Don’t fuck it up.”

“Oh, I won’t.” In another swift movement, he swept you up into his arms and laid you down on your back on the lab floor. He was above you, arms on either side of your head, boxing you in. You could hardly see anything past those vast shoulders. You swallowed. He raised one hand to your head, petting your hair. “Look at that. You really are so pretty. Couldn’t help thinking it even when you were pissing me off earlier.”

You furrowed your brow. “I thought you wanted to change my mind, asshole, is this-”

He cut you off as his hand lowered, skating down your side and brushing against your breast before traveling even further. You exhaled shakily, trying to prepare yourself for this. Miguel O'Hara was touching you. Miguel O'Hara was going to fuck you. 

When he reached the curvature of your hips, he fondly squeezed, humming to himself. "Soft… so soft. You wouldn't want an asshole like me to eat you out, would you?"

Your brain short-circuited at how blatant he was. "No, I- I would, I really fucking would, Miguel."

"Oh, are we on a first name basis, now?" He hooked a clawed finger into the fabric of your suit, ripping a huge gash into it so he could access you. That… that was your good suit. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to keep yourself from quipping back at him as he scooted downward, wrapping his arms around your thighs and lining himself up with your pussy. You threw your head back in anticipation, screwing your eyes shut. How was this real? How was-

You gasped as his tongue made gentle contact with your sex, slowly and carefully licking a long swipe from your opening to your clit, like he was savoring the first taste of you. 

"You taste even better than you smell, amor." 

Fuck, he was savoring you. You trembled beneath him, your hands tentatively reaching down to tangle with his hair. And it was even softer than you thought it would be. 

"That's it," he encouraged. "Hang onto me." 

You listened, your grip on his hair tightening. As if that were his cue, he brought his tongue back to your aching pussy, lapping at the wetness that was all but dripping from you. Your body immediately felt too hot on the metal floor, and you were convinced that you were beginning to melt under the warmth of his tongue. The almost-penetration was sending you spiraling; he was giving you nothing that you needed while somehow simultaneously answering your every secret desire. You needed that mouth on your clit. Your greedy, aroused body needed more, more. You had him all to yourself and he was teasing you. It wasn't fair. 

You whimpered as you gripped soft locks of his hair, waiting for him to take the plunge. Waiting…. And waiting. But he just kept lapping contentedly at your entrance, just barely dipping his tongue inside. The feeling was pleasant but infuriating. What was he trying to do? Did he want you to beg for it?

Oh.

…He couldn't be serious. 

But that was the only conclusion you could reach. After all, he'd been asking to hear you say things this entire encounter, prompting you to be vocal. All you had to do was swallow your pride. 

"M-Miguel…?" You asked, your voice quiet.

He stopped, picking his head up slightly, looking at you from under his thick brows. "Mm? What is it?"

"Please, um… please…." Your voice caught in your throat. Why was this so difficult?

"Oh, you're begging me now? What could you possibly be begging for… Isn't this what you wanted?"

You narrowed your eyes as he held your gaze with that lackadaisical expression. 

"Please," you started, feeling humiliated. "Please suck on my clit."

"Good girl. All you had to do was ask." In no time at all, his mouth was back on you. He zeroed in on your clit, taking the sensitive bundle of nerves into the wet warmth of his mouth, sucking on it just as you needed. The feeling was so intense and you couldn't suppress any of the noises that escaped you. And the noises he made didn't help in the slightest. He was humming as he worked your clit, the gentle vibrations of his voice adding to the overstimulation. He stopped for a moment to instead use his tongue, and the pointed attention was delicious.

"How are you feeling, amor?" He asked without fully pulling away from you, his voice slightly lisping from the contact. 

"Good," you gasped, feeling like you were getting close to the edge. "So, so good. Please keep going."

"Tell me when you're going to cum."

"Yes, yes I will." 

He continued his efforts, mercilessly devouring you, a cacophony of wet sounds rising to meet your ears. You could feel your orgasm building, your body singing. He was playing you like an instrument. That warm, pulsating feeling was building deep inside your core, threatening to burst apart with every second. 

Your grip on his hair tightened. "Miguel, I'm- I'm gonna-" 

Your back started arching and you closed your eyes as… nothing happened. He pulled his head away from you. You opened your eyes to see him looking at you from between your legs, one of his eyebrows raised. 

"Wha- what?" 

He smirked. "Oh, this? It's nothing... It's just that douchebags usually don't care about making women cum."

Your jaw dropped open. This again? You gritted your teeth, your clit swollen and thrumming with your pulse. You needed release. 

"I'm sorry." You said, your voice desperate. 

He raised his eyebrows, amused. "Oh, wow, that was fast." His tone was so matter-of-fact.

"I'm sorry for calling you a douchebag and an asshole, I was wrong about you. Please let me cum." You spat the words out so quickly that you hardly registered what you were saying. 

"How could I say no to that?" He returned to you, gripping your thighs more firmly than he had before, shamelessly moaning into you as you started to curl up off the hard metal floor. Your orgasm was so close, it was right within your grasp. Your breath started going ragged as you held onto him for dear life. In a white hot burst of pleasure, you came, swearing loudly as Miguel drank up every bit of you, letting you ride your orgasm out on his skillful tongue. He slowed down right as you did, matching your pace perfectly until you were a heaving mess on the floor in front of him.

"My turn, now," his voice came through the fog, it sounded distant. But you could feel strong arms lifting you up and all but dropping you onto your back on one of the lab's computer consoles, its screen turning off in response. He dismissed a section of his high tech suit, his manhood coming free. You couldn't help but gawk at him. His body was unreal. From the small window he created, you could see hard lines of muscle carved into golden skin. Your head started spinning again. 

He began pumping his hard cock as he looked down at you, spreading your legs further open with his free hand. "See how easy it is to get what you want when you aren't being a brat?" The way his muscles flexed through his tight suit while he worked himself was maddening. You wanted- no, you needed him to fuck you. You needed him inside you. 

You nodded your head, answering his question. 

"So, tell me what you want." 

"I want you to fuck me," you answered, still panting from your orgasm. "I want to feel you so badly. Please, Miguel."

"You're a fast learner," he purred, bringing his cock to your folds and lubricating himself on the mess you two had made. He slid over your slick entrance, his head touching your aching clit as he moved up and down. "I'll fuck this pretty cunt for you, since you asked so nicely." 

He positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed himself inside of you, inch by thick inch. You moaned, the feeling of finally being full was luscious, he was pressing at your walls from all angles. At last, when he was in up to the hilt, he stayed there for a moment while his large hands found your waist. 

"My God, look at you. You took all of me, and so shocking well. You," he exhaled, seemingly taking a second to compose himself. "You feel so good." 

"Thank you," you whispered, breathless. He was praising you. It was… nice to hear. Stubbornness be damned.

He chuckled to himself. "Please and thank you? You really do learn fast. You've earned this, amor." And with that, he pulled himself out of you, slamming back in with a hard slap. Over and over, he fucked you with the entire length of his cock, hitting spots inside of you that you weren't sure even existed. "Lemme hear you, I wanna hear it all."

You obeyed. "O-oh my God, Miguel, fuck. It's… it's so good. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you."

Thanking him fueled his fire; his grip on your waist tightening, red eyes sparkling wildly. "Good girl, that's it… watching my cock disappear inside of you… it's making me crazy. You like getting fucked by someone you hated before all this? You wanna get filled up by someone you don't even like?"

"Yes, please." Your back arched into him, the pressure from his unwavering thrusts overwhelming you. The feeling was impossibly perfect, your body tingling from your head to your toes. He really did fit inside of you so well.  

"You'll get it, baby. Keep being good for me, you'll get it." 

As he continued, his hands roamed your body. Groping at your breasts, resting on the soft slope of your stomach. You grabbed one of his traveling hands, a rogue feeling overtaking you as you brought it up to your throat. 

His eyes widened in disbelief. “Y-yeah? You want me to choke you?” He sounded excited.

“P-please,” you huffed, grabbing onto his forearm.

“Holy shit, you’re something else.” He began applying gentle pressure to your airway as he kept fucking you. It was the perfect amount of constriction; suppressing your breath intake just enough for your head to feel pleasantly airy. He was good at that, why was he so good at that?

Between the way he was pounding you and the way he was choking you, your muscles started to bear down on him.

"Yes, yes, squeeze that cock. Good girl. You’re gonna get what you want.” 

You clenched down on him, your orgasm rocking you to your core as he fucked you through it. It hit you in giant waves, crashing over you and pulling you into the undertow. You felt completely drunk on it. The warmth of it was everywhere in your body, all the way up to your fingertips. Your head swam, your eyes rolling back into your head. Miguel swore to himself, his tempo becoming more irregular. He released your throat, hands flying down to grip the console. You thought you could hear it cracking. 

“God, you’re tight. I’m gonna fill you up.”

“Yes,” you rasped, your body shaking. 

He growled as he came inside of you, bearing his fangs in clenched teeth once more, and you could feel his cock twitch followed by the heat of his seed as it stuffed you full. He lingered over you, his eyes looking frenzied as his gaze flicked over your face, his chest heaving with every recovering breath. 

You released a deep sigh, smiling tenderly at him. “Thank you, Miguel.”

“You, uh,” he started awkwardly, running his hands through his hair. He still hadn’t even pulled out of you yet. “You earned it,” he repeated. 

He took a short, unsure step back, as he pulled his length free from you. You could feel his cum leaking from you upon his release. There was so much of it. 

He held his hand out to you to help you up, and you grasped it, smiling again as you got to your feet. 

“I’ll clean this mess up, but you.…” He scanned your frame. “...I’ve got a pair of pants on one of the lab chairs down there.” He pointed toward a particularly cluttered section of his space. “Bringing them back would be a much better excuse to see me than a fight in the lobby.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #smut #my writing #ive got another one for you you sick bastards #this one was not beta read in the slightest so bear with me pls #hope you enjoy! #i will not stop the metalcore title/summary naming convention anytime soon so my condolences