#and you stumble and stutter for the first time
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— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [seven.five.]
— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.
❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞
— pairing; ot8 (general); 2.03k
— chapter warnings; death, death mentions, murder mentions
〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)
FIC WARNINGS: murder, manipulation, blood, blood drinking, torture references, dark magic, kidnapping. this series is very dark, if you're uncomfortable with the subjects listed do not read. warnings will change but be listed in each chapter. there is no tag list for this series.
“Negotiating without your spark behind you is brave, Hongjoong. Many would rather have some semblance of power behind them when they speak,” the Seelie speaks, leaning against the stone pillar.
“Why would I be afraid of your kind in my land?” Hongjoong merely states, arms resting against the small of his back. His gaze flickers to the Seelie’s partner, a dry laugh escaping him. “I desired for a conversation alone, Yeonjun. How hard is that to follow?”
“I am not stupid. You have already killed Beomgyu, no? Why would I enter this putrid realm myself?” His words are filled with venom, eyes narrowing as he looks down at the Unseelie leader. Fearsome gazes do nothing to Hongjoong, only satiating his desire for negative emotions. So Hongjoong smiles, head tilted.
“We have yet to fortify our treaty. Deaths are increasing on both sides - my home territory needs to be moved soon. I cannot have Seelie interrupting while we enter another realm of rowan trees.”
“Afraid?"
“Merely bothered.”
“A bothersome act wouldn’t call for a meeting between us, Unseelie,” he glances back, waving off his partner. The man disappears, leaving the two leaders alone. “You have yet to atone for killing one of my own.”
“I will not allow you to take out any of my spark, Yeonjun.”
Yeonjun laughs, his head thrown back to the skies. “I am not a buffoon, Hongjoong. My offer is a small price to pay for what you’ve done to my spark. Give up the human in exchange, and I vow to not interfere with Unseelie unless provoked.”
Hongjoong’s brows furrow, “You want the pet? Why?” His chest aches suddenly, but Hongjoong holds back his expression. What the hell was that?
Yeonjun’s smile only widens. “An Unseelie kills humans, Hongjoong. You wouldn’t have it around if it was not important to you.”
“If she is important to me, why do you think I’d give her up on a whim?”
“This discussion between us is not on a whim. It is either the human, or one of your spark’s lives. Make the decision. And soon, Hongjoong,” Yeonjun steps back, mist left in his wake.
He can feel that same ache again. He was not sure what exactly it was, the strange feeling scratching at his heart. He ignored it at first, pushing through the hallways, determined to finish his duties here so he could go back to his spark.
But then it grew painful.
Hongjoong stumbles as he crosses a threshold, gasping for breath. His fingernails grow, digging into the wooden slabs. Blood spills from his lips, splattering against the floor. The feeling is unlike anything he's experienced, but his body knows. He cannot tell who it is at first, his mind whirling. Until a part of him begins to tear at itself, ripping his heart from the inside out.
San.
“No.” He pushes past the pain, the phantom of a gaping hole in his chest. He hasn't been gone that long, how could this happen? Why isn't Hongjoong there now? His speech is stuttered as he stands, the air swirling in front of him. His incantation is slurred but he manages after a few seconds of struggle. The cloud flickers in and out of existence. He steps through just as it appears, body shifting into the garden of his home.
He does not see much at first.
His eyes flick up to the porch, a massive gap presenting itself to him. Glass shards are scattered across the wood. He thinks for a moment that he arrived in the aftermath, until shouting surrounds him. His steps are quick, hand out in front of him as he rips the doors from its hinges with quick incantations. The first thing he sees is Yunho and Yeosang in the midst of a fight with witchlings.
Little time passes between him watching the fight and tearing the witchlings apart, limbs dropping to the floor violently, blood splattering against his cheeks. The remaining creatures disappear from sight, leaving the solemn echoes of the hallway. Yeosang struggles to his feet, pushing past Hongjoong and falling to his knees in front of San. The wound on his body has not healed in the slightest, limp in Yeosang's arms. Hongjoong can barely stand as he looks at the sight, but he must. He looks around, entering your room.
Glass is scattered across the floor. The same scene he saw from the ground, the hold the size of the creatures, looking back at him. Wind rushes into the room as he makes his way forward. You're nowhere to be found and after a brief headcount, neither is Wooyoung. He cannot feel the loss of him, so he presumes that he is taken along with you. He runs his bloodied fingers through his hair, thoughts elsewhere.
Grief is not something he can let himself process now. He has to save Wooyoung. He has lost one, he cannot lose him too. Hands dig into his shoulder and turn him around. His eyes move up. Mingi's cold gaze on him. His eyes are vacant, mind elsewhere. Waiting for a command from his leader. Hongjoong’s lip trembles as he tries to speak, lids shutting. He cannot grieve for him right now. They rely on him, rely on his strength to pull them through. To save who he has left. He takes only a couple of seconds to pull himself together, sadness swallowed momentarily.
“Do you know where they came from? If the kumiho had something to do with it?” He asks Mingi.
“I–”
“Is that all you can say?” Seonghwa enters the room. Tears stain his cheeks, moist, tired eyes meeting his. He can feel the exhaustion through their spark’s connection, the feeling forcing Hongjoong to stagger ever so slightly. “San is dead, and that's all you can say?”
“I cannot afford to let myself grieve, Seonghwa. I have to save Wooyoung –”
“San… he…” Seonghwa rubs his face. “He sacrificed everything, everything to be with us. He turned against his own kind, forced himself to feast on tortured souls. He gave us his all, his life, and all you can say now is that you cannot grieve? Not even for a moment? Yeosang can barely hold himself together in there, your spark is hurt, and you cannot afford mere seconds to acknowledge the dead body?”
Hongjoong cannot respond. He cannot let himself wallow in sorrow. Not when there is so much to do. He dismisses Mingi with a small nod, letting him leave the room. Seonghwa's anger only grows at the silence, stepping forward. His fist grips Hongjoong’s shirt, knuckles digging into his chest.
“You are selfish, and you are pitiful. I am amazed that San even wanted to be with us when he saw you.”
Hongjoong reaches up, his fingers brushing against Seonghwa's chin. Seonghwa allows him to cup his cheek, grip loosening on his shirt. “You can say what you need to say to me after, Seonghwa. Would you like me to sink into my grief or help find Wooyoung?”
Seonghwa pushes his hand away, his anger only rises. “All you’ve ever done is care for Wooyoung and no one else. Even in death we are not enough for you, never the first thing on your mind.”
“Enough,” Yunho enters the room, glancing between them. His clothing is soaked in gore and blood, footwear sliding against the wooden slacks barely holding the floor together. Wounds cover his body, slowly healing. Mingi shadows him, gaze turned back to Yeosang’s grieving, hunched over figure only a few strides away. Jongho sits next to him, hand resting on his trembling shoulder. “We’ve lost so much already, we cannot lose each other and ourselves too.”
Hongjoong could have stopped the conversation long ago and demanded that Seonghwa stand down. Any other Unseelie leader would have barely acknowledged the death at all – likely twisting their face in disgust and burning the remains without thinking twice. It is what he has been taught, what has been passed down to him. But right now he cannot. He cannot just send San away without giving the others some time to accept what has happened. Give himself time to accept the cold, empty look in his eyes.
“How did this happen?” Hongjoong asks again, this time to no one in particular.
Seonghwa leaves with a flicker, Yunho and Mingi left alone with their leader. “We cannot say. Jongho mentioned something about pixies watching on the edge of the forest, but they wouldn’t summon these creatures. Seelie are incapable of controlling these beasts, especially when we just manifested the shield when we came back. No other majik should be able to penetrate the barrier. This shouldn’t have happened.”
“You think they attacked because I was not here?” Hongjoong looks behind Yunho, blood staining the floor in pools. “Would they have attacked even if I were?”
“It’s doubtful. A spark without its leader is greatly weakened in comparison to when they are here. They might have noticed you were absent and took that chance to attack. Taking y/n away makes sense since she is valuable, removing San–”
They can see how it pains Yunho, his lids tightening as he closes them. He takes a breath, before continuing.
“Removing San makes sense since he is powerful, but I just cannot wrap my head around taking Wooyoung. What purpose does it have – he is not even your second or third. He means much to us, sure, but in retrospect, his position in our spark is not as important.”
“Cruel words,” Mingi mumbles.
“Wooyoung knows how much he is cared for, he’d likely laugh,” Yunho says. “Still, my point remains.”
“Wooyoung is cared for,” Mingi speaks again. “He is important to us. The kumiho cares for him, and Hongjoong cares for him. The leader of all Unseelie favors one in particular. He is a weakness. They, whomever it is that has taken them, must know what they mean to us. They know what we’d do to have them back. It is strategic, Yunho.”
“Can you two give me a moment?” Hongjoong interrupts their speaking. “I agree with everything you are saying, but I need time. Not much, but just...”
“Understood,” Yunho nods. His fingers seek Mingi’s, theirs wrapping easily around each other. Before they leave, though, Yunho turns around. “Shall we do something with San?”
Hongjoong takes a slow breath. “Place him in our memorial chambers once Yeosang is … Do not light the flame yet and do not allow anyone else to. I need a moment to think.”
“Alright.”
They leave him in the room. Hongjoong whispers a spell into his palms, misting himself into his chambers. He locks the door behind him, taking slow steps into the room. It’s as he has left it, papers skewed about, books piled upon one another. The sinking feeling lets itself manifest in his chest, slowly rising up his torso. He slumps into his bed, the smell of rotting flesh enveloping him as he trembles.
He lost San.
It should not have been possible for any being, including Lilith's creatures, to break the barrier. It is what he has set up and has worked for centuries. Nothing should have been able to come in. To kill. Hongjoong could barely look at San’s body, the cold shell of what he once was. You would think that him being an Unseelie would have him used to seeing the dead. He killed his own spark leader, and that affected him less than seeing his mated gone. His teeth dig into his lips, breaking skin as he holds back his own wretched sobs. He lifts himself up from his sheets, gripping the wooden desk as he stands, looking over his work.
His eyes move to the side, caged spellbooks behind metal bars. His finger drags across his bloodied lip before pressing into the rounded button. Wooyoung would be able to protect the both of you himself momentarily. Losing this chance now would only make him lose San. The rusted bars creak open. He reaches for the one book he swore that he’d never use, flipping through the crusted pages until he lands on the spell he needs.
Necromancy.
#fic: wonderwall#ateez x reader#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#yunho x reader#mingi x reader#san x reader#jongho x reader#wooyoung x reader#ot8 x reader#ateez fanfiction#ateez fanfic#ateez angst
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additional feature
pairing: vash the stampede x afab! fem!reader
content: smut (MDNI!)
cw: questionable usage of this man's prosthetic fingers, c.lit play, tristamp coded vash because of the arm color but the others can have some coochie as a treat
a/n: been in my notes app for forever. i cannot believe my first fic in awhile is smut and it's even my first trigun fic. ashamed. shaking out the dust and sand from my brain just like vash shakin' out the sand from his arm.
brad is a genius and knew the blonde would gunk up his masterpiece with sand at some point... so he provided a neat lil feature to help shimmy out the granules from the tiny crevices!
On the desert planet that was Noman’s Land, sand was a cruel devil for mechanical bits and bobs. Constantly eroding the cheap lacquers and choking up the gears in more intricate machinations made being an engineer a more annoying task. Hence why Brad, genius that he is, had equipped the blonde gunman’s arm with a little special something to rid the little granules from the intricate joints that made up the malachite arm.
“This is the annoying part; gets... so… gritty– Eep!”
The blonde man squawks as he flails his left arm around, jerkily stretching his lithe fingers. The dual suns’ rays reflect off of the flat planes of his limb, occasionally blinding you as you watched him fumble around. Speckles fell from the crevices as he slapped his other hand against the jewel toned forearm, but the grimace on his face told you that it wasn’t quite fixed yet. Before you could offer to helpfully brush it down with a random paintbrush you picked up from the previous town, he fiddled with something at his inner bicep and the teal arm buzzed to life.
Sand granules vibrated and seemingly shimmied out of the tighter spaces of his arm and fingers, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he happily wiggled his digits again. A clear lack of stuttered arcs in their movements told you the sand battle was won.
Distantly, the others in your ragtag group argued about the lack of water and supplies for the next few hours, but your brain wanted nothing to do with that conversation. In fact, the mechanical whirring of his arm mimicked the static of your empty skull. Not a single thought was between your eyes at that moment.
Words died in the back of your throat and were replaced with absolutely salacious thoughts. Those thoughts raced through your mind and the blood pumped wildly in your ears (and between your legs). You fiddled with your fingers nervously as you cleared your throat to grab the blonde's attention.
“Say, Vash,” you coughed, and his eyes darted to yours in interest at the awkward tone you’ve suddenly adopted, “I’ve got an… idea.”
Those big blue eyes blinked owlishly at you as he curiously tilted his head.
“What’s up, Mayfly?”
As soon as the group stumbled into town, divvied up the keys, and parted ways, the door of your motel room was barricaded by a splintered chair because the lock didn’t live up to its namesake.
“Curious about this, huh?” Vash’s teasing murmur against the shell of your ear snapped your attention back to the present. “Were you wondering how it would feel… against… your–”
The tip of his cool, jade finger floated down and graced the swollen bud between your legs. Before you could snap a little jab in his direction, the droning mechanism whirred to life again, except this time, Vash wasn’t trying to rid himself of sand. With a yelp, you curled in on yourself, plush thighs caging the broad man’s hands. Your body jerked and he laughed breathlessly, cooing as his flesh-and-blood hand pried your legs apart. This man was teasing you! Turning the buzzing fingers on and off? How cruel–
“So lewd of you,” he cooed your name, delighted by your body’s honest reactions.
Tease. Bastard. Where’d this confidence come from?
He tenderly pressed chapped lips against the back of your neck, pecking you three times over. When you embarrassingly squirmed against him and curled in again, he fussed. “M-Mayfly, don’t hide,” he breathes, his voice laced with poorly masked desperation. Your attention was taken and you ceased your squirming at the breathlessness of the man holding you. “Just wanna make you feel good.”
For Vash the Stampede, succumbing to hedonism was a transgression against his moral code. Yet, when it comes to his precious Mayfly, your happiness and pleasure were equally his own, and he was a selfish sinner learning to indulge.
He would never come to you with this... idea. But he won’t lie that it came to mind once.
Well, twice.
Okay, maybe a few times before the two of you had become entangled in each other.
For every stuttered gasp you released, he mirrored it. For every choked moan you bit back, his hips bucked in response to wordlessly beg you to let go in his arms.
It made you wonder who was going to finish first. It made him wonder why he took this long to do this. It was all for you, after all. Your pleasure was his.
The gunman’s ragged back rested against the chilled wall of the dim motel room, pulling you taut against his warmth. He protected your back from pressing uncomfortably against the metal over his heart, shifting your body to lean on the rightmost side of his chest. His soft hair tickled you at times, constantly adding ammo to the reasons to squirm in his lap.
Vash’s touch was grounding, yet it also sent you straight for the clouds. His initial hesitant ministrations were gaining confidence the more you sang for him and arched so prettily in his grasp; his index and middle fingers moved at a languid pace, playing you like a seasoned musician performing their magnum opus.
At the start, he expressed concern over the idea of using his arm’s ugly, brutish, and utilitarian functions on your soft body. He sputtered in surprise when you first mentioned it earlier in the day; he had frantically gestured to his shining arm, babbling and asking you to confirm what he thought you had said. Crimson heat rose to his ears and it was not from the suns beating down on his neck.
Vash was certainly surprised by your proposal, but again, it wasn’t necessarily the first time it came to his mind.
Even as the two of you first settled against the musty sheets on the mattress, his hesitation spoke volumes with the way his fingers ghosted your core. After much coaxing and promises to stop him if it hurt, he finally, cautiously, pressed his strong fingers where you needed them most. The jade fingers weren’t vibrating though. Only when you complained with a whined cry of his name did he turn it on with bated breath.
Well, Vash quickly learned the tremoring metal was not too much against your core, and hearing your stuttered gasps? The practiced gunman was delighted to find out his body could serve you even better than before.
Currently, each time your legs twitch inwards, he’d whine with pouted disagreement and sweet talk your body to open back up to his touch by nudging your thighs apart again. His petulant huff raced past your ear and your attention would wrap around his next words. “So wet, Mayfly,” he breathed, awe lacing his voice. “Is it that good? Am I doing okay?”
Genuinely, Vash wanted to be nice, so he stopped his flicked motions to let you answer. His fingers rested on your clit, but didn’t cease the vibrations. With trembling, yet practiced fingers steadily pulsing against you, your head flew back onto his shoulder as you choked out your pleasure, “S-so good, Vash!”
Oh god, you sounded wrecked and beautiful to this man’s ears. The man always loved how his name was uttered from your lips. Your compliment held an unsaid cry for him to continue, so he hummed happily as his fingers sped up their strides, flicking up and down, and occasionally chasing well-practiced circles. The vibrations from his hand seemed to amp up in strength and your hands flew to his strong legs, digging your nails into his skin. His hand was suddenly drenched and his breath caught at the back of his throat.
His loving pace faltered for a beat at the sting of your grip as he groaned, mindlessly nuzzling the back of your neck with his nose. The crescent marks on his legs would never scar like the others on his body because you’d never harm him in such a way, but a ruined part of his mind prayed you did. Vash’s free hand trailed up from your tummy to cup one of your breasts to gently toy with the swollen nubs, pulling you close against his body.
“You’re so wet,” he moans brokenly and gingerly nips at the juncture of your neck. His fingers were starting to clumsily slip from the slick drowning his fingers, but he was determined to be so good and do well. That’s all the Humanoid Typhoon ever wanted to be for you, after all. If he was blessed to touch an angel and make her sing with his erred hands, the least he would do was give her a glimpse of heaven, right?
“A-are you getting close, Mayfly? Can feel her throbbin’ f’me…” he slurs, his fingers working overtime as he flicked and massaged you. You wailed softly as he seemed to establish a steady rhythm after your sudden deluge from earlier. Before he can moan out yet another nose-bleeding-inducing whimper, your hand shoots out and halts all of his progress. You yank his arm away and a confused ‘bwuh?’ slips from the blonde angel in the room. Before he can protest, you awkwardly crane your head around and stare him down; his voice, worry, and confusion fizzle away at the dazed gaze you grace him with.
Although the room was dim this late at night, the lantern illuminated your silhouette well; every curve on your body was highlighted by the warm light. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath from his little onslaught of pleasure.
‘Wow.’
You laughed; did he say that aloud?
Kind of embarrassing, but–
Desperate want painted your pretty little face as you pant at him. His grip on your body loosened as he felt your legs twitch, letting you rearrange the two of you however the hell you wanted.
He’d follow you anywhere.
When you lifted yourself from his body to shakily turn and face him, a hum bubbled in his throat before your fingers coyly traveled down your front, spreading yourself under his gaze. His cerulean eyes had followed your fingers’ dance and he swallowed dryly.
Wet.
So wet.
He did that.
Your thighs were quivering as you balanced yourself on your knees, and if he stared hard enough and long enough, he was sure he’d see you drip onto the sheets.
What a waste that would be, though.
Dumbly, his jaw slackens he stares at your lower half glistening with the obvious sign of your love for him. Distantly, his left hand continued to buzz against your flesh and you laughed at the tickling sensation as you placed your hands on his tense shoulders to steady yourself.
His brain was going to short circuit like the very first time you allowed him to even see an inch of your bare skin. The hardworking pink thing in his skull cheered over and over as his eyes continued to glaze over at the gift in front of him.
Your plump lips were mouthing salacious words down at him but were only partially registering in his clouded brain.
Something about ‘being inside’ and ‘finishing together’–
His wide eyes snapped back up to yours when you planted your hips firmly against his. Oh god, his pants were so ruined but he didn’t care. Not when you were looking down at him with all the love in your eyes as you sighed out his name in bliss.
It sounded so pretty from your lips.
The Humanoid Typhoon felt dizzy, oh so dizzy…
You purred when his hands shakily found their home on your hips, “c’mon Plant boy. Let’s get those pants off of you, huh?”
Vash the Stampede had never clumsily unbuckled his ruined pants so fast in his life. Can’t blame the guy though. His pretty litte Mayfly laughing and sitting on his lap made it really difficult.
#vash smut#vash the stampede x reader#vash x reader#trigun#trigun reader insert#vash the stampede reader insert#vash the stampede smut#vash x reader smut#trigun stampede
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Songs: Pale White Horse, Where is your rider by the Oh Hellos from the album: Dear Wormwood (2015)/Jujutsu Kaisen 0 (2021), Director: Sunghoo Park/Jujutsu Kasien Season 2 Episode 9 : Shibuya Incident Opening , Director: Shōta Goshozono /Jujutsu Kaisen Manga Ch#90 by creator Gege Akutami
#????? help#this is my first time web weaving and ik its bad lol#also this is my third fucking time making this becuase my wifi isnt working#but anyways#and i wanted to make a iliad and achillies come down one yet but i decided to make this first#i realised how similar these songs are to satosugu#the whole album in general#what can i say i have a soft spot in my heart for fictional and historical gays (:#and becuase geto is literally gojos achillies heel and his pale white horse#becuase imagine being the strongest limitless wielding sorcerer who alone is the honoured one#and one look at the face of your best friend#who you know is dead#becuase YOU killed him#and you stumble and stutter for the first time#damn#anyways#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#geto suguru#gege when i catch you gege
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please please please please pleaseeee elaborate on the vee's little pet thing, I'm going through a thing idk, vee's little pet, but you wanna be there and its mildly wholesome
there's nothing better than being the object of desire of three overlords
you started off as a model for velvette who scouted you while walking down the street
once she realized how plaint you were you became her favorite
you'd let her dress you every day and follow her around like a puppy
now with this favoritism it was only natural you'd cross paths with the other vees
the first of which was vox who asked for you to be on one of his broadcasts
this show was a hit and you started to appear on more episodes
having now spent more time with you vox couldn't help but develop a small crush on you
val thought nothing of you the first time he met you or the dozen times after that
until he noticed vox stutter when asking you a question
now this piqued his interest, why would his confident,let's face it cocky, lover stumble over his words while speaking to you
sure you were attractive and popular but compared to many other sinners you were so boring
he had to know what made you so special so he asked you out to velvette and vox's shared horror
but the vees share so they couldn't exactly say no
and him being an overlord you couldn't say no
val fell and he fell hard
neither vox nor velvette wanted to fall behind as they started taking you on more outings
the three of them were a team but having a shared goal they grew competitive
fighting amongst us each other would end terribly so after lots of jealousy and conspiring they agreed to share their conquest
you went from just joining them at their jobs to movie nights all snuggled up
as all three were quite busy and powerful overlords, they made a schedule with each other for time with you with an agreement they'd all spend their nights with you
your freewill was completely gone but you can't deny becoming their pet secured protection and and a reputation
the moment they set their sights on you, you were done for
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#x reader#vox x reader#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel velvette#velvette x reader#hazbin hotel valentino#valentino x reader#the vees x reader#the vees#hazbin hotel vees
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DAY 17 — VIRGINITY LOSS
kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — neuvillette, heizou, wriothesley
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, first time, virgin! reader, taking your v card, soft & passionate, pussy drunk genshin men
𖧡 — NEUVILLETTE
neuvillette was always tender-hearted and caring with you— nonetheless, this specific night, he was burning up through his entire nervous system— only a minimal glance of your body was able to drag him into such brimming state with sweat spouting down his back while only inches away from feeling your skin on his hands— just the whisper of your soft words scurrying at the head of his sinful imaginations.
at the present moment in time, there were no thoughts other than doing this correctly, no focus other than the one centered on your angelic frame— a crucial need, as much as air and water, sewed up within the pain of anticipation simmering over his psyche.
you can feel how his fingers silently curve over the flesh of your thighs before he inches you closer to his bare body, "voice any discomfort to me—," he pauses before coughing out, barely breathing as his heart thuds hard against his chest from how tight your legs were wrapped around his hips, "—immediately."
you nod in compliance, and you rest your head against his broad shoulder before feeling neuvillette's complete weight shift, soon after caging you beneath him as he towers on top with a new perception prodding at your wet core, his cock gently resting between your silken pussy lips— it's unique to any other feeling you have ever experienced before and your thighs instantly clamp around his hips harder, your ragged breathing tottering over his neck and shoulder.
you try to relax yourself, letting your hips fall into the mattress before suddenly trembling at an increasing pressure on your cunt— you hear a whimper as neuvillette rests his forehead on yours, holding his gaze on your eyes, the force of the increasing press precise and cautious as your hole parts around the intrusion.
it seems to be everywhere, all at once trapping your body and you suddenly feel so hot inside, then cold, then hot again, the way it manifested so quickly in you like a spumming inferno that imprisoned your body before your mind floats in the air, above clouds— again, it's hot and cold, hot and cold, the pressure in your lower area penetrant and heavy, and you're becoming dizzy by just focusing on how his shaft was stretching you out as neuvillette fills your cunt to the hilt.
neuvillette notices an immediate reaction from his elevated senses, in the way a strong current of oversensitivity stung along his thick, sheathed shaft like a bee stinging their victims— nullifying his pace as his hips stutter before coming to a hold, reveling himself into the warm hug of a wet, gushing pussy enveloping him.
it's just too much right now, for the both of you— or how your body was beginning to smell just like him, your pussy shaping over his length and casted all around it— as if the both of you, had claimed each other entirely.
𖧡 — HEIZOU
"squeeze my hand if it's too much or uncomfortable,"
regardless of heizou's confident and soothing sentences towards you, before smirking down and giving you the feeling that he had it all figured out a long time ago— was in reality, a helpless attempt to hide his genuine panic deafening his inner spirit, and even though the detective believed he did a good job at concealing it from you, the way he'd awkwardly scrunch his brows together or stumble over his own words aired his self parading nervousness spotless for you to see.
despite that, it's a heavenly sight to have you splayed underneath him, bare and exposed— untouched, so hot that it has you clench around his waist as he first slips himself in, his cock immediately showering your warm walls with love. your heart was racing and so was his, yet it was impressive, his self control, slowly pushing in and out of your little hole and leaning his head down to plant a soft, tender kiss on your lips.
"you're so beautiful," heizou praises as you part your lips, "you're mine," and wait for heizou to slip his eager tongue deep into the warm cavern of your mouth, your mind lost in a swirl of senselessness by his gradually fastening thrusts and the mild pain accompanying them— yet such, didn't matter in this moment, because your thoughts travelled up the soul-deep river over emotions unlocking deep inside that bonded your bodies in a new sense of awareness.
𖧡 — WRIOTHESLEY
watching you smile filled wriothesley with a love he never thought he was capable of feeling— and it's warm, as he believed love should always be perceived as, with your bodies moving unitedly, ugh, archons, he was obsessed with this intoxicating feeling.
“f-fuck, fuck, princess, fuck," he stumbles over his wet trembles, his mouth parted and forehead bedding a film of sweat as wriothesley persistently grinds into your sensitivity, his voice raspier than usual and for once he wasn't cracking occasional jokes, instead he hold your gaze forevermore, groaning out a shaky heave as you mewl out from the deep-rooted press on your core— it's a little uncomfortable you won't lie, and wriothesley being above average wasn't aiding you in that particular battle.
despite that you welcome him completely, no matter the circumstances you keep your legs pressed around his thighs when he tirelessly embeds himself so far inside your cunt that you're nothing but a babbling mess, hardly capable to breathe nor voice your pleasure due to the lingering compression on your slit being penetrated for the first time by a large, thick length, so perfectly shaped and harboring a soft pink on the bulbous tip.
he didn't believe he'd ever become so devoted towards another human being and utterly revel inside pleasing you for the first time, through your body and your soul and ugh— that you wanted him to be your first and no one else, how such reason alone was growing the addiction inside of him, his hips grinding inside your warm hole as his lower abs constrict at the pleasure.
wriothesley licks into your mouth in desperation, and each moment he pulls his hips back only to slip inside again, it’s so much better and it seemed like there wasn't a chance for it to subside, the sensation was growing between both your bodies rubbing over each other, his hips twitching with the sudden thud of vibrations due to your creamy walls clamping down on him.
your soft frame squeezes underneath his rough one, hot walls and wet taste, your slit gripping him just the right way and swallowing him till overcrowded with his heavy length, stimulating the veins sloped over his shaft like you were made to do this with him and only him.
truly, there was no comparison to this, nothing would make him get bored of doing this with you.
©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
#genshin impact x reader#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#genshin x reader#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley smut#heizou smut#heizou x reader#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette smut#kinktober#genshin x you#wriothesley x you#genshin impact x you#neuvillette x you#heizou x you
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rule no. 1
summary: you have a no-contact rule going with your ex, choi seungcheol, but fortunately unfortunately for you, he’s not really the type to follow them.
tags: ex! seungcheol x reader, seungcheol’s kind of toxic and doesn’t know how to let go, tit sucking (both cheol and reader), piv sex, protected sex, then unprotected sex (stay safe out there), pet names (daddy, good girl), cheol is written based off EXACTLY how he looks in these pictures | wc: 2.7k
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
8:11 PM
[choi seungcheol] hey
[you] what
[choi seungcheol] can we meet today?
[you] i don’t think that’s a good idea
[choi seungcheol] just to talk. nothing else. i swear.
[you] dude, what are you doing? you know we’re supposed to be going no contact. plus, it’s raining
[choi seungcheol] i’ll come to you
[choi seungcheol] and don't call me dude ever again or i'll seriously kill myself
[you] NO. do not come here. it’s late. let’s talk tomorrow okay?
11:17 PM
[choi seungcheol] i’m downstairs
[you] seungcheol..
[choi seungcheol] you want me to leave? i drove all this way though?
[you] fine.
[you] just talking.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
his shock red hair. that’s the first thing you notice after opening the door, followed by just how good he looks with it. stop.
seungcheol walks straight in, fishing his car keys out of his pocket and dropping them in that little bowl on your shoe cabinet. then he looks at you. no, he checks you out, his eyes slowly sliding up your body to see what you’re wearing.
god, he has no self control. you knew he’d do that, which is why you’d worn your frumpiest PJs. a clear visual indication that nothing was going to happen tonight.
‘just talking’ you reiterate, drawing an imaginary line on the floor with your foot.
seungcheol laughs, extending his arm, signaling you to walk ahead and lead the way. the thing is, he wants to check your ass out. though you may think this is your frumpiest pair, there’s something in the material which makes it cling to your cheeks, making them look extra juicy.
seungcheol follows behind you, maintaining the “line” until you pause abruptly and he takes a step too close. just like that, he’s already crossed it, and then, he’s already kissing you, already taking off his glasses, already tossing his beanie aside, already grabbing your ass, already carrying you to the bedroom.
‘t-this is a bad idea’ you stutter, trying to find some of that self-control you keep asking him to show.
‘i know. so bad’ he breathes into the curve of your neck, sucking on the skin hungrily until it breaks. ex-seungcheol was obsessed with leaving marks of himself on you — hickeys, bites, hand prints.
he stumbles into the bedroom, leaving the lights off, and sets you down on the edge of the bed. no, you can't be doing this again.
‘seungcheol, i really don’t think-’
‘shh, don’t say anything, just kiss me. look at me' he grabs your chin, angling your face up ‘kiss me’ he says like it’s just that simple. seungcheol snakes his long tongue into your mouth, kissing you, his hands busy unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down just enough to let his cock breathe. as you kiss, he lays you down on the bed, driving a knee in between your legs to spread them apart.
‘do you still like it when i do this?’ he asks, as if there’s any answer apart from fuck yes, and presses his knee to your core, grinding hard, sending pulses of pleasure straight through you. you answer with an involuntary moan, stifling it just in time so he doesn't hear.
you see, seungcheol doesn't need an answer from you. he can already guess from your erect nipples which are poking through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, asking to be sucked on. who's he to deny them that? so, he pushes your t-shirt up, above your tits, grabbing and pressing them together, and buries his face into the valley of your breasts.
‘fuck’ he inhales ‘missed this’
ex-seungcheol was all about missing you — missed your smell, missed this pussy, missed your pretty little mouth, missed you. you know seungcheol. you know once he latches onto your tits, he's not leaving till you both have finished. so, you make a last-ditch attempt.
‘you know that article i sent you?’ he cups a breast in each hand, rolling, teasing, and tugging your nipples in between his fingers.
‘it-’ god, that feels good ‘it says the best way for us to do this is to go no-contact. really’
‘yeah?' you nod, surprised he's even listening.
‘fuck that article’ and with that he takes you in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola before latching his soft lips onto your hard nipples. fine, just one last time then, you pacify yourself and let go. you sink into the feeling of your breasts being sucked on, while your fingers sink into his thick hair, tugging on tufts of red.
‘the red looks fucking hot, by the way’ your compliment sandwiched in between soft moans. seungcheol pulls off your breast, looking up at you, a sudden hunger in his eyes.
ex-seungcheol loves compliments. loves them. — compliment his face, his hair, his built, and definitely compliment his cock. he needs to be desired by his exes.
he leans back, ripping his overshirt and t-shirt off, his hair falling wildly over his face. seungcheol runs both his hands through his locks, slicking his hair back. ‘take your clothes off’ he’s got a little gruff in his voice ‘now’
you undress hastily, and it’s not until you see a cocky grin spread across his face, you realise what he’s noticed.
‘just talking, huh?’
you’re wearing those panties — the ‘pull aside pair’ as he called it. seungcheol loved these on you, it was his favourite because firstly, they just about covered your cunt and secondly, they would ride right up your ass giving him the best view. you and him both knew that if you’re going to wear these panties, he’s going to fuck you with them on.
of course you’d prepped incase he did come over, which had happened one too many times before, but the optics of this really don’t help your no-contact agenda.
‘let’s talk then’ he pulls his jeans and boxers off, his cock springing out. yummy.
‘why don’t we talk about how you’re wearing these, hhmn?’ he cocks an eyebrow, snapping the band of your underwear hard ‘you know what happens when you wear these’ you can’t count the number of times he’s cum on your ass while you were in them.
he pulls your panties to the side, and there, another surprise. ‘oh, fuck me’ he groans needily. not only have you shaved down there, but you’ve trimmed your hair just the way he likes it.
‘fucking hell’ seungcheol curses again, licking and sticking a finger inside you, feeling your wet warmth pull his finger right in. ‘or no, let’s talk about how i can already fit one. no, two. oh? three?’ yes, three.
‘three of my fingers inside your pussy so easily’ he slides them in, all three coming out with a glossy sheen. and then, in a sickeningly sensual move, his runs his flat tongue over all three, licking them clean.
‘you taste like you need a dick inside you’ seungcheol grabs his, slapping it hard against his cupped palm. it’s like every thought in your mind turns into mush at the sound, and suddenly you’re just a hole. an empty hole.
‘cheollie’ you shouldn’t be calling him that ‘please put your big fat dick inside me. i need you so bad, cheollie’ you know exactly what to say to seungcheol to make him tick. ex or not.
he groans, pulling down a pillow and placing it under your lap to lift your hips. then he positions himself, lining himself up to your entrance.
‘wait’ you pause, much to his dicks disappointment, to grab a condom from the bedside table, your body twisting on its side. fuck, that ass looks good, seungcheol thinks, giving it a tight slap. ‘mmm’ you bite your lip, looking back at him.
‘again, daddy’ he slaps it even harder, the force of his palm making ripples on your skin. he looks at you now, so full of lust, and he can’t remember why he ever let you go. stupid fucking decision.
‘be a good girl and put it on for me’ it was one those odd things that really turned him on. he watches now as you rip the condom wrapper with your teeth, slowly rolling down its slippery edges onto his fat dick.
‘now come to daddy’ you lay back down as he grabs your legs and slides you towards him, a little squeal spilling out of you.
‘tell me what you want’
‘i want your fat dick inside my tight wet pussy’
‘that’s my girl’ he hooks two fingers under the ribbed fabric of your panties and pulls them aside, sliding his tip up and down your slick folds a few times before pushing just his fat mushroom head in. ‘fuck’ you both curse at the same time, and in the same breath as he penetrates you little by little until he’s all the way in.
‘shit, missed this pussy so much’ and you don’t say it out loud, but as he starts thrusting you’re reminded of just how much you missed his cock. no amount of vibrators and dildos could do for you what seungcheol is doing right now. it’s like he’s been able to scratch an itch deep, deep inside you. literally.
seungcheol repositions himself, leaning a little lower, angling his strokes a little higher, his cock teasing the roof of your pussy. once he’s satisfied with how he’s buried inside you, he slides his big hands up your arms before gripping your wrists tightly, shackling them in his palms, and slams down, pinning you onto the bed and fucking you.
‘oh fuck, yes’ you moan, in that nasal little way you do, which he finds stupidly hot.
‘that’s what daddy likes to hear’ he grins, his tongue touching his canines.
speaking of stupidly hot, you can’t help but notice how good he looks on top of you. has he gotten bigger? looks like it. his chest seems to have doubled, looking bigger, firmer, and frankly, more suckable. has he gotten hotter? definitely. maybe it's an ex thing or maybe it’s the red hair. god bless his hairdresser.
you’re a little dazed honestly, by his buff(er) built, especially the silver cross necklace that’s hanging off his thick neck, swinging above your face with every thrust.
‘like what you see?' he raises his eyebrow, catching you staring, and in response you bite on the dangling silver and pull him down towards you. you take his tongue into your mouth, swapping spit like a couple of teenagers.
now closer to you, you get a whiff of the faint smell of alcohol and cigarettes coming off him. you wonder where he was before this, and who got to see him looking this fine. there’s a hot sting of jealousy that cools when his chain skims across your breast, the cold metal making your nipples hard in an instant. seungcheol gets distracted by your tits once again, pushing them together and holding on as he fucks you.
‘love your tits’
‘love yours’ oh, they’ve definitely gotten bigger, you think, cupping one in your hand and circling your thumb over his nipple.
‘fuck yes, suck on it’ he bends, and you take him in your mouth, sucking on his tits, flicking his hard nub with your wet tongue.
‘yes, that’s it, good girl’ he grabs a fistful of your hair, pushing your face into his chest. seungcheol loved getting his nipples stimulated, and you feel the pleasure you're giving him pound straight back into you.
‘fucking love your pussy’
‘mmm, love your fat cock in my pussy’
‘love-’ the words are at the tip of his tongue, but before he says the stupid thing he’s not supposed to say, you kiss him, clenching your cunt so tightly and abruptly that it knocks the strength out his arms for a split second.
‘fuck, that feels amazing’ he groans ‘love your pussy so much. it’s made just for me’
‘just mine to fuck, only mine’ his possessiveness — one of the reasons it didn’t work, but so sexy in this moment.
‘yeah?’ you know what he’s really asking. he wants to know if you’ve fucked anyone else in your weeks apart, if there’s a legitimate reason for that condom separating the both of you or if its a formality. he needs to know.
ex-seungcheol is greedy — he reminded you of a bratty child at times. it was not his toy anymore but he refused to let anyone else play with it. mine!
‘only yours’ you say, and take it a step further, whispering into his ear ‘i’m only yours so take the condom off and fuck me raw’
the no-contact rule dies a violent death as he pulls out, yanking off the condom and sliding his fat, veiny, throbbing cock back inside you in what seems like less than a second.
‘fuck’ the sensation of your raw slippery cunt in contrast with how tight you’re clenching around his dick makes him curse. you wrap your legs around his waist, digging the heels of your foot into his back to push him deeper inside you.
‘y-yes, i can feel you so deep’ you breathe, two of your fingers sliding down to rub your swollen clit in sloppy circles.
‘god i love it when you play with your pussy with my dick deep inside you’ he’s fucking you so forcefully now that the slap of his skin against yours is all that can be heard.
your arch your back, closing your eyes and focusing hard on all the ways you’re being stimulated — your fingertips on your clit, the tip of his penis pressing against your walls, and his heavy balls slapping against your asshole — all the sensations twisting into a knot in your stomach.
‘you’re there, right there. do it’ he guides you ‘be a good girl and cum for me now’ his words are all you need as the knot tightens and then unravels, the orgasm taking over you from your head to your toes. it’s an addictive high, one that you’ve desperately missed, and it leaves you shaking and stuttering under him.
‘yes, there you go, there it is. fuck’ he pulls out his cock halfway, reeling at the sight of your creamy white cum coating it ‘look at that. oh you’re such a good girl for creaming all over daddy’s dick’
you breathe a satisfied breath, feeling your cunt continue to clench involuntarily at his praise, his pace suddenly picking up.
‘squeeze around my dick just like that’ he grabs both your legs, holding them together by the ankle and turns your body so you’re laying on your side, your legs folded at your knees. your pussy is so tight in this position, and your ass looks extra fat. ‘fucking hot’ he praises, moaning as you squeeze so tight around him, over and over. he knows he’s about to blow.
‘cum on my ass, daddy’ it’s tradition at this point. seungcheol pulls out, perfectly positioning himself over your ass and frantically jerks off, the squelch of his strokes filling the room. he grabs a handful in his other hand, squeezing hard. ouch. that’s going to leave a mark.
‘cum for me’ you sing seductively, his breath catching in his throat. ‘cover me in your cum, daddy. i’m all yours to cum on. i’m only yours’ you remind, and that pushes him right over the edge as he cums with a loud long grunt, shooting his thick, warm, milky load all over your cheeks. and god, there’s so so much of it.
‘holy shit. how long have you been storing that?’ you scoop some up with your fingers, giving it a taste ‘mmm, yum’
honestly, seungcheol’s a little surprised by his load too, shaking his head and laughing softly as you review his cum. ‘wait, let me just get the, where is that thing?’
he picks up his crumpled overshirt, a balenciaga shirt mind you, off the floor and cleans the cum off you, then wipes his own dick down.
‘i can’t believe you still do that’
‘do what?’
‘use your expensive ass clothes to wipe cum like they’re disposable tissues or something’
he shrugs ‘they may as well be for me’
you roll your eyes at that, starting to remember reasons as to why he’s your ex again.
‘oh, by the way’ seungcheol rolls up the cum rag shirt before chucking it back onto the floor.
‘were you seriously trying to bring up an article on how to break up while i was sucking on your tits?’
you chuckle cutely ‘yeah, i was actually. but fuck that article, right?’
‘yeah’ he nods, pouting in agreement ‘fuck that article’ he breaks into a huge smile, looking at you fondly as you both crack up, and finds himself asking the question he always does after one these nights — why did you both break up again?
#scoups smut#seungcheol smut#seungcheol x reader#scoups x reader#scoups#choi seungcheol#scoups drabble#seungcheol drabble#scoups fanfic#seungcheol fanfic
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do u think boothill would be obsessed w readers waist . literally holding it pinching it using it to move them around etc he makes me a little crazy
yup.
always has an arm around your waist. and he always has to call you my man/my lady, otherwise it’s ‘honey’ and i’m not elaborating. he thinks he’s so smooth (dont tell him you can hear the fans whirring below his body). you’re, what, 2 years into this relationship and he’s still blushing at the ears and stuttering when you smile at him.
he can be smooth, sometimes. it’s all in the southern drawl, and also just him being quite touchy in general. has also like, 100% said, “well, hello, nurse” once or twice with a whistle when you walked in the room.
he’s not the biggest hand holder—he doesn’t like his hands at all—so he’d rather just squash you in tight next to him as much as he can.
he’s basically your guard dog. he’s always attached to you somehow, will bark and bite at anything that he doesn’t like coming close to you, and he feels like the king of the world knowing that he, some stupid hunk of scrap metal and junk, bagged you. nobody knows how he did it. he doesn’t even know. sometimes he thinks he’s dreaming.
he’s feel like an absolute gentleman as well, so there’s that too. he’s going to tickle you at any given opportunity, as well as give you a little squeeze. he’s got that sort of cuteness aggression inside him i think. if your back is turned, he’ll pinch your sides and nip at your neck like a puppy. he’s like that.
speaking of your back, somebody’s gotta call the mechanic if you’re wearing a top with a low or exposed back, or if you just take the damn shirt off entirely. he’s like a victorian man seeing ankles for the first time if he sees even an inch of your spine. why are you seducing him like this. please stop staring at him with heart eyes when he’s stumbling over his words.
he can’t join you on beach days unfortunately—sand and water not great for the robo-body—but he will be reluctant to let you leave, considering you’ve got basically nothing on and he wants you all to himself.
he also loves your legs. please swing them on his lap and use his as a foot stool. he won’t even complain. don’t get him wrong, he loves you in formal wear; suit, dress, whatever you want, but by the gods when you wear shorts or a skirt his brain melts.
appreciates nice shoes as well. fancy formal wear sort of stuff. he’s a total sucker for it.
if you wear heels, he loves those too (makes you look taller so rawr) (he will do that cat purr rolling tongue noise i have no clue what it’s called) (also he knows any sort of fancy shoes hurt your feet so YAY he gets to carry you home!!!!!! he wins!!!!!!!!!) (he’ll hold your shoes in one hand and carry you like you’re made of glass. doesn’t matter if you’re embarrassed. to be fair, he thinks you deserve to be carried everywhere. you’re way too ethereal to be touching the floor in any sort of way).
i just like the idea that he’s the biggest most loserish simp in the world. loves his partner more than anything in the world. whipped to all hell. will put a bullet in his head if it would make you smile.
#boothill x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#boothill hsr#boothill#✦ ( love mail. )#✦ ( anon. )#✦ ( rambles. )
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frat steve has taken steddie twitter by storm so have this
eddie’s dragging his feet in his boots, humming under his breath while he unsuccessfully flicks the lighter under his cigarette.
every time he finds himself walking down fraternity row he also finds himself wondering how he got here.
not physically- he took a left on 4th and a right on morningside, he knows that.
but in a larger sense.
he’s a junior well on his way to a media and entertainment arts degree who, as a freshman and sophomore spent most of his friday nights at local dives either playing with his band or drinking and shooting the shit with the divorced dads at the pool table.
so when he wonders how he got here, he means how he’s found himself on the way to his third house party this month.
he finally gets his cigarette lit and he stops on the sidewalk to get in a few drags before he heads in. mentally prepares himself for the insufferable music he’ll have to endure for thirty minutes or so before he tunes it out.
he mock-bows at the group of girls that wanders past, giggles and waves sent his way making him laugh to himself.
he drops the butt and stubs it beneath the toe of his boot and takes a breath.
heads toward the house door.
when he gets there he’s met with two guys, freshman surely. letters emblazoned across their cutoff muscle tees and hats turned backwards and perched, very stupidly if eddie shares his piece, atop their heads.
they stop him with a hand up and friendly smiles and mock bravado “three actives,” bro number one states.
eddie barely holds back an incredulous laugh.
“you cannot be serious.”
the boys eye each other, confused and getting frustrated, eddie can tell.
the first bows up a bit.
“dead serious, bro. name three actives.”
and look, eddie may be a showman at the best of times but he really doesn’t want to pull his trump card here. not now.
that would just add insult to injury.
he’s wracking his brain for a way to let them down gently, to get them to step aside and let him through when there’s a loud commotion behind them and then steve is shouldering his way past and onto the front steps.
“eddie!!” he cheers and swings his strong arms up and around his neck. he, unlike tweedle dee and tweedle dum, is just wearing a white t-shirt and his hair, his beautiful, beautiful hair is left untarnished by the blasphemy that is the frat boy snapback.
he wraps an arm low around his waist and presses a kiss to his temple.
“hey, baby,” he smiles, watching the dropped jaws and disbelieving eyes over steve’s shoulder.
steve pulls back and shoves his chest back and he stumbles, laughing.
“dude you were supposed to be here ages ago!”
eddie tugs him back close by his wrists and puts on his best puppy eyes.
“sorry, sweetheart, got caught up at rehearsals. but i’m all yours now.”
steve grabs his hand and tangles their fingers together. spins around and point between eddie and the pledge-bouncers.
“guys, this is eddie! eddie this is jeremy and josh.”
eddie waves, small and a bit sarcastic but steve doesn’t pick up on that. just tugs him past and takes off to find eddie a drink.
eddie gets clapped on the shoulder and high-fived by a couple of steve’s friends as they pass and he yells across the room to eric to save him a seat.
he turns back to the door and still sees bewildered looks, slightly afraid.
he gets it, he does.
in a larger sense at least.
if he were these boys and had just tried to deny entry to the president’s boyfriend he might be a little afraid too.
he swings an arm around each of their shoulders and pulls them close.
“relax, gentlemen. your secret is safe with me.”
they stutter and go to argue but steve is back with two red plastic cups and a bright smile.
“c’mon ed, luke wants to hear about your show since he missed it last week.”
eddie pats both boys on their backs before he takes the drink from steve’s hand and tucks the other in steve’s back pocket.
“later guys. catch up next time, yeah?”
their stunned nods and quiet agreements follow as eddie and steve walk away.
they’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.
#steddie#steddie fic#gin writes#steve harrington#eddie munson#frat boy steve is so real#and i have SO many opinions on him if you wanna get serious
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Bakugou Katsuki
TW: NSFW, noncon/dubcon, toxic relationship, possessiveness
fem reader
You’re not sure why you ever let it drag out this long…
In the beginning, it could be blamed on things outside your control. You were a pretty girl, and he was a bad boy – of course, that garnered tension – plus, the oncoming of puberty and its additional whirl of hormones – leaving you in the turmoil of strange feelings neither of you could understand – making you both panicked, embarrassed, confused and, most of all, in dire need of an outlet for it all.
One of which you surprisingly found in each other.
You’d been but foolish teenagers at a silly house party at the time – your first-ever shots of vodka buzzing through your system as you shared a kiss like none other.
You’d stumbled up the stairs and gotten frisky in the bedroom while the family pictures of your shared friend witnessed you tearing at each other until the skin of childhood had shed and left you both as grown-ups.
You remember it well… how you’d practiced putting condoms on a banana and brought a few along but had no prior intention of treading one on him, of all people.
But fuck, his hands were so big, and his tongue was so hot… and you hadn’t known he could look so pretty… cinched bushy brows and parted lips glossed with your name as he fucked you against the wall until all those onlooking family pictures came crashing down.
You woke up with a new special understanding of yourself and each other, one with a strange respect and newfound curiosity for the other’s body.
But why he hadn't grown bored of it since and why you’d never put your foot down and ended things was beyond you.
Sure, a drunk one-night stand with a person you’d otherwise avoid at all costs is life – opposites attract, after all – but to keep coming back to each other?
He’d explained it once, one of those times he'd come stumbling into your apartment, drunk and in the midst of buckling up his pants while pawing at you. Kissing you sloppy, he’d mumbled out something along the lines of how no one else knows him like you do.
And you suppose that had mainly been the reason – that you just knew each other too well and had known each other too long, to which point everyone else just seemed alien – that there was a certain comfort, if one could call it that, in the familiarity of each other that just couldn't be replaced by anyone else.
You thought it would go on forever like that… Not that you’d ever bothered to give it much thought.
That is… until you had that very flirty encounter at the café where you worked – where in between being sweet-talked into a stuttering blushed mess and being asked out for coffee someplace where you wouldn't have to serve it yourself – you’d come to question your current relationship and started doubting your true obligations toward him as a partner.
You didn’t go on dates. You didn’t live together. You didn’t text or call one another. You didn’t eat dinner or plan things or visit each other’s parents.
You didn’t have anything in his apartment, nor him in yours. You’d never washed any of his clothes. You’d never worn any of his clothes. You’d never even driven his car.
You’d never given each other presents. You didn’t tell people about your relationship. You didn’t talk about work, your day, or your feelings. Actually… having given it a long thought… you didn’t really talk at all.
In fact, when it came down to it, the only thing you’d been able to think of that you’d ever done together… was sex.
Sex and nothing more…
You don’t know if things would have ever changed if he hadn’t asked you what the number scrawled in blue ballpoint pen on your arm was...
But nevertheless, that’s when he started acting strange.
You’d never expected he’d get so upset by it – but you ended up apologizing that night while promising him that next time, you’d make it clear you already had a boyfriend.
You remember thinking how the way he fucked you that night had been nothing short of desperate. Having given you nearly no room to breathe with how tightly he’d held you, his face nuzzling into your neck with lovebites, thrusting into you in such a way he was barely even pulling out, pounding your womb more than your cunt to the point you’d feared it bruised, having had to pat his shoulder to tell him to calm down.
He’d held your face then, and you’d realized that you hadn’t really had too much eye contact before. You remember that even then, you couldn’t really decide if you liked it or not.
Or rather... you’re sure you’d found it unpleasant, though just hadn’t had the guts to give the feeling much thought.
You regret it now that it’s too late. Maybe if you’d done or said something back then, you wouldn’t be in the situation you were trapped in now.
For lack of a better, more suitable word, you’d have to say he’d become clingy if only it didn’t sound too sweet and childish for someone so much larger than you. But maybe you’d just feared calling it what it had been.
And what it had really been… was threatening.
Overbearing and possessive, and needlessly protective. He’d quickly become paranoid with jealousy. Portraying strange obsessive emotions you hadn't known he harbored for you at all until then.
You hadn’t really been able to put your finger on it at the time.
It started out small – or small in comparison to now. Small pleasantries he’d never bothered with before. Small niceties you’d never imagined the two of them would do together.
Thinking back, the first deviation aside from the triggering night he’d initially seen the phone number and felt the threat of you slipping from his graspwas the time he’d come and visited you at work when out on patrol. And though he hadn’t really asked, you’d come to realize rather hesitantly that he’d come there to eat lunch together with you.
Maybe you’d been too swept up in the embarrassing buzz to notice, caught in the paparazzi of hushed whispers and judgy stares – all of them asking who the Plain Jane thought she was, eating lunch with the up-and-coming pro-hero Dynamight– you hadn’t really the time nor mind to pay attention to him and all his newly awoken instincts regarding you.
It seemed fucking silly now… How you’d foolishly thought the bizarre lunch was an isolated incident that wouldn’t ever happen again, only to be schooled the next day and the day after that – coming to understand you were to expect it as a regular thing. And soon, it wasn’t even the strangest thing anymore.
Soon, he was driving you home every day, coming inside, eating dinner, watching the news until late, and staying the night. Soon, you found yourself waking up in his apartment alone, coming downstairs to find he’d made you breakfast before leaving, combined with a little note telling you when he’d be back. Soon, you weren’t spending a single week or weekend without him. Soon, you couldn’t find anything to wear that didn’t either remind her of him or smell like him or that downright didn’t belong to him completely.
And he’d started taking you places too – on dates – broadcasting your relationship to anyone who could snap a picture and send it to every gossip magazine in Japan. He’d introduced you to his colleagues – who you knew to be “friends” from some rather upsetting stories he’d told you when he was in a less and less rare mood for talking – and they’d seemed to know who you were just as intimately, giving you the sneaking suspicion that he’d been running his mouth and saying private things he ought not to.
But that had all been child’s play.
It got out of control when he’d ordered a delivery truck to pack down all your things and move them all to his apartment before you got home from work. Sure, he’d introduced the idea of living together in passing, but you couldn’t remember ever committing to it or being at all close to an understanding of where and when.
Thinking about it now, that was probably your last chance of escaping before things got ugly.
But then, it was already too late. You were living with him suddenly – sharing all his space while unable to shake that awfully crippling feeling of just being another medal or trophy up on the mantle. Just a decorative doll he’d locked behind glass.
You’d felt as though your head was in a cloud. And not in a nice way, but in the utmost hollow way. As though you’d put yourself on auto-pilot and just gone with the stream like jellyfish.
And now… now he was down on one knee, asking – no, demanding – that you give him everything.
For life until due death.
Just the two of you.
Together.
Forever.
You swallowed thickly, feeling your head prickle as though it had fallen asleep without taking you with it.
Your lips are dry, your eyes are dry, feeling more sober than ever.
You took a breath and, on the next exhale, spoke, “No.”
You both just stared at each other for a while as though neither could decide who was more shell-shocked and had the right reserved to remain still the longest. You left – deciding it was the person on the floor with the expensive ring weighing down his hand – and walked towards the mudroom.
“What are you doing?” He asked then, hesitantly at first. Shaken from his spot, he’d resumed his full height again, loudly stomping across the floor to reach you.
“I’m sorry- I- I can’t stay here- I need to go.” You rushed, head spinning, only able to understand how you wanted to put shoes on and leave. Maybe get a drink at a bar by yourself and figure your shit out without being suffocated by him.
“Don’t do this.” He said then, sounding desperate and somewhat feeble if it weren’t for how he had you pushed against the wall in the same second.
You nearly decided against yourself when seeing the look on his face – warped into something truly fragile. Plead had his brows pinched together while his sharp red eyes, now doe-like, had glossed over and looked nothing short of hopeless and scared.
You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart twist and ache and feel a little guilty.
But nevertheless.
“I can’t marry you….”
You couldn’t keep doing this.
“I’m sorry- I don’t love-”
You didn’t get to finish. The word taken, stifled, strangled in a fist closing around your throat.
“You do love me.” He refuted quickly, as though terrified to have let you finish. “You’ve always loved me.” Trembling while he said it, as though trying to force himself into believing it too.
Shaking your collar in unstable hands – bearing down on you until you couldn’t be pushed flatter against the stone behind you, until his forehead rested against the wall, and his lips brushed the shell of your ear in hot, heavy, strained breaths.
“You’re just confused.” He rasped, voice light and breathy and nearly amounting to a giggle or a sob – you weren’t sure which.
But you couldn’t care much when you couldn’t breathe. Head burning into wet cotton that was no longer able to tell you to push him off and instead let your hands go limp against his chest, knees going weak beneath you.
You were convinced he’d kill you before the tiniest slither of air was allowed back in through your windpipe, gasping for it like a glutton until coughing it all up again when choking on your own desperate gulps.
You held your throat in an act of soothing it from the forming bruises and shielding it from further attack. But he was ahead of you and had his sights on attacking something else.
He took you by the hair and started pulling, dragging you from the door and further into the apartment.
“Stop- stop it-” You gasped between hiccups and coughs, your hands clawing at his in an effort to free his grasp from your scalp. Your shins dragged to burns against the cold marble as your legs kicked in the struggle, hitting the floor in a series of sporadic thuds until he stopped.
He’d crossed the threshold of your bedroom and was now throwing you down on the mattress, pinning you in the same second with a hand gripping your jaw and eyes a searing cold that seemed to lash out at you like unstable fire, glaring at you with a look so blank and empty you felt it like the chill of death creep throughout your bones.
“If you want me to be nice, you should shut up.”
You knew you ought to listen, but still, one last prayer slipped off your tongue against your better judgment before you could think twice about it. “Please don’t do this-”
“Don’t do what!?” He barked – spit flying and teeth bared just like a rabid rottweiler – louder than you’d ever witnessed, loud enough to make you wince. “Break your heart!?” His voice cracked on the cry, and he paused, giving another gruesome and gut-wrenching chuckle. Head ducking to your chest with spikey hair nipping at your throat like a million needles.
His hand tightened even more, clawing into your cheeks.
“I’m just making things even.”
You’d never realized just how hopeless you were if you’d ever needed to fend him off. But you’d never needed to before, never wanted to until now.
Now that he had you so helplessly beneath him, where the reality was slowly dawning on you and making you ever more hysteric, slowly settling upon you like dust. The ensuing violation and your utter defeat in fighting it, your failure in doing much more than make it worse.
He tugged his tie loose and threw it off his head, wrapping your wrists in the loop and tightening it into restraints.
Spreading your legs by positioning himself between them. Only now noticing just how brittle you were. So much smaller than him. So much so that tying your wrists to the bedpost seemed like overkill.
You were sobbing, gasping for breath with your chest rising and falling on beat with the deafening drums of your racing heart. You seemed less than nothing beneath him – just a defenseless pile of plush flesh soft against him and all his muscles.
You tried pulling your thighs shut, but it hardly mattered. His hands buried in the fine plume of the cakey fat had them both spread again with nearly no strength put into it at all.
It was all right there – taken with no effort – only a cute pink cotton panty stopping him.
His heart clenched at that, flickered and tugged with misery at the look of you crying into your own arm, trying to comfort yourself while your chest heaved, already tired of screaming and bawling – having resorted to soft sniffles and weak snivels while tiny quakes shook through you still, goosebumps adorning all your exposed flesh, which was every part of you sept for what your pretty silk dress kept hidden.
You were so beautiful… Precious and just… too good.
He knew that. He knew that you were too good for him and had always been too good for him – part of the reason why he used to act as though he hated you – when, in reality… he actually…
“I love you.” He cried. “I’ve always loved you….”
Hot tears splashed in big droplets, staining the silk with splotches that seeped into larger flecks on your stomach.
“I can’t live without you-” He continued, his hands shaking where he held you apart while his body sagged forward, bowing down, donning soft kisses to your neck and jaw, upon the tears staining your cheeks with streaks, whispering in a voice close to breaking. “I can’t- I won’t-” Choked and pitiful, raw from shouting only a moment earlier.
One of his hands detached from its bruising grip, whilst the other loosened and slid higher – pulling your dress up with it– before rubbing loving circles into your midriff.
You heard his buckle go undone a second later and offered another whimpering sob, your own hands jostling in their bonds on beat with your shaky breaths while trying to angle your face further away with the aim of avoiding the attack of his wet teary kisses.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, but I can’t… I can’t let you go.”
You felt him press against your clothed cunt with the weight of his swollen thickness and let out another whimper – your nose stuffed full of his breaths and eyes full of unyielding tears.
His hand reached for your panty, hooking the trail and pulling it to the side, making you sink your teeth into the plump of your lip to suppress yet another whimper while you cringed with discomfort and the unanswered wishes for him to stop as he nibbled on the corner of your mouth with more teary proposals.
His fingers soon prodded your slit like they’d done nearly every day for years since they were but teens. Touching you with a perfected skill he’d learned would have you shiver with arousal.
You yielded quickly, your sex turning puffy and wet sooner than you had the time to be embarrassed about it.
“No one knows you as well as I do. No one loves you as much as I do.” He chanted against your skin, entering you with both his longest digits, pumping them deep and scraping them in a cruel curl into that spot he knew had your toes doing the same. Smiling once your hips made an involuntary jolt in response. “No one else but me.”
He pulled his hands to himself once you’d left three of his digits warm and soaking with slick, lathering his own arousal with it before nudging his cockhead against your opening in a sticky kiss and breaching it.
You stiffened, and he groaned into your neck at the feel of you clamping down even tighter as he bottomed out into your already taunt choke.
“No one else would know how to love you.” He hissed, setting a sweet tempo, lips still close, grazing on the peachfuzz of your cheek, ghosting your skin with hot breaths and even hotter words. “No one else would know the first thing to do with you once they had you.”
You shook her head, more so in askance of space than anything else – needing air free of him – needing to clear your head off the building warmth you felt spread from your core – needing to shake the coil loose before it could knot itself further. But it seemed the more you tried fending it off, the faster it neared its end.
You always shook so prettily when cumming – when spilling over and moaning all flushed and cute for him with your hips riding it out against his until it left you panting, blushed, and adorned with a shiny sheen of dew, making you look golden in the glory of the after high.
You were his, and not even you could deny it. It almost makes him pity you, watching you writhe, unable to keep even this from him… laid completely bare to accept what he gave and give what he decided to take.
“You’re mine…”
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere smut#yancore#bnha smut#yandere bnha#mha smut#my hero smut#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#yandere bakugo#yandere bakugou#yandere bakugo katsuki#yandere katsuki#yandere bakugou katsuki#yandere bakugo x reader#yandere katsuki bakugou#yandere bakugou smut#bakugou smut#boku no hero academia smut#bakugou imagine#bakugou katsuki#mha bakugou#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugo katuski#katsuki bakugou#bakugou x y/n#bakugo katsuki
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𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴
|| synopsis: Adam falling in love with someone who actually deserves to be in Heaven. ||
|| word count: 955 ||
[ cw: Adam is his own warning ngl. a little bit of verbal and physical abuse, and toxic relationships obvi. ]
|| ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ||
From human souls to another, those in Heaven around you felt pity for your… ‘situation.’ You had captured the eyes of first man Adam himself, and you hated it. You and a small group of people had started to question if he deserved to be in heaven, or if he was just Gods’ favorite creation. For ages now, he had been walking around, talking at you more than to you.
“Yeah, then I told that fat bitch just,” He paused, looking down and spotting you further ahead of him than before he started talking, taking a large step forward to be next to you again before he continued talking. “Just how much she actually disgusted me, she started with the whole, boo-hoo, woe is me shit. Ugh, honestly it’s was so gross.” You cringed at his behavior, your face beet red in sheer embarrassment. You moved your hand to cover the side of your face he could’ve seen, sighing deeply as he just continued to blabber on and on.
As if a sudden change of heart struck him, he went quiet before clearing his throat, tugging at his collar with a single finger before looking away from you and speaking. “But uh, how was.. your, day?” He asked, sounding almost unsure of the question. Your walk had stuttered a bit, seeing as you almost tripped over yourself at his tone and question. “It was perfect,” Until you showed up again, you thought, sighing for a moment. “It’s always a happy day in Heaven.” You had finally spared a glance to him, peering up to look at him, you caught him staring right at you, not paying any attention to what was in front of him as he walked. A little smile creeped onto your face as you walked further just a bit, watching him collide face first with a pole.
“Ah! Fucking— shit, eat- pussy! Fucking Christ!” He groaned out, stumbling back a bit and rubbing his mask, flipping off the pole with his other hand. Both of your hands shot up in front of your mouth, hiding the smile that spread across your face. Little giggles started to bubble up out of your throat as you watched him curse out the pole. “You! Fucking bitch— Why didn’t you tell me there was a— Ohhh, you think this is fucking funny?! Tell me why I’m wasting my time with a dry ass pussy like yours, fucking suck my—“ He started, a small growl to his voice as he glared at you, huffing and puffing before taking a deep breath, standing up straight. He cleared his throat again, noticing the people who had stopped on the street, knowing it would just look like him harassing some poor angel. Which, wasn’t too far off.
He grouched and looked down at you. “Come on.” He stepped closer to you and grabbed your wrist, flapping his wings so he would be off the ground, bringing you with him. He knew he was larger than other angels, so there was no chance of your hand escaping his much larger one. He had been ‘courting’ you for some time now, so you knew better than to try and wiggle out of his grip for fear of losing some feathers.
He flapped his wings in almost a sense of pride as he pulled your form to his, his hand now supporting you only by your lower back. Your face had gone back to its’ almost melodramatic frown, looking down as you watched the street get further and further away from your feet. “You sure know how to fucking embarrass a guy, _____.” He groaned out as he landed on his ‘penthouse in the clouds’, which was a stupid thing to call it since heaven itself was in the clouds. However, he didn’t let you down yet, grumbling as he walked around, still holding you up off the floor.
“Adam, please put me dow—“ He cut you off before you could even ask, “No! No, you’re fucking mine until I am done with you. Why can’t I just get over you already?! Are you a fucking demon? Doing some, voodoo magic shit on me?” He looked down at you, a scowl obvious on his mask, but he did start to set you down, letting your feet reconnect with the floor. You stepped back from him, looking around before rubbing the wrist he had grabbed since it had begun to ache. He watched you with intent for a second before disappearing off into his ‘home.’ You considered flying off, but even if he was cruel, you’d hate to leave him in a bad mood.
So, like an angel, you waited. Hands folded in front of you now, looking out over the clouds, watching the sun reflect off of them with such eloquence. You only turned away from the view when you heard footsteps coming from behind you. It was Adam, now without his mask and two things in his hands. One, an ice pack, the other, a small glass of water. He knelt down in front of you, setting the glass down and taking your aching wrist into his hands, pressing the ice against it gently. “… Sorry.” He whispered out, looking up at you with a little frown, trying to convey true sorrow. A small sigh left you, your free hand lifting to pet back his hair, a little smile spreading across your face as you leaned forward and planted a kiss against his forehead.
“It’s alright.” You’d always forgive him. No matter what he had done to you, pick, prod or pull, you’d give him your forgiveness in full. Because you were an angel, and that’s why he lov— like—. Tolerated, you.
[ someone tell me i did him justice plsplspls ]
|| note: 🇮🇫 🇾🇴🇺 🇱🇮🇰🇪 🇲🇾 🇨🇴🇳🇹🇪🇳🇹, 🇧🇪 🇸🇺🇷🇪 🇹🇴 🇱🇮🇰🇪 🇦🇳🇩 🇷🇪🇧🇱🇴🇬!! <3 ||
#hazbin hotel#adam hazbin hotel#adam x reader#adam x reader hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x reader#rosemaryfollows#first man adam#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin adam
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Hi! If youre still doing requests, i have kind of an odd ask , but maybe some of the upper moons' reactions to meeting Muzan's wife (reader). I also really like whipped!Muzan so maybe the other demons' reactions to seeing the demon king doting on his wife. Thank you very much :)
Hi Anon! (^○^.) I actually love this request, so thank you for sliding it into my askbox ♥
Honestly I love a powerful man - especially a powerful villain - who's just absolutely in love with their wife (♥ω♥.) and would do anything for them, it just brings me joy.
Anyway! I'm rambling abit, but here is your request! I hope I've done it justice (^ω^.) Please enjoy!
Come again to request whenever you want cause I'm always open.
Muzan Kibutsuji being whipped for his wife + Upper Moons Reactions - Headcannons:
You know those types of men that are just unmovable pillars of stone - who look like they were carved from the finest marble by the hands of angels - who are always impeccably dressed with a voice of icy poison and just command your attention?
Who turn to the softest love-struck mush when with their wife
yeah, that's Muzan Kibutsuji with his wife (aka. you)
The finest meals, clothes and jewelry are yours with a click of his fingers - all done to make you happy, to see you smile
Anything that you mention briefly - doesn't matter if it''s a book or a holiday - its yours by the end of the day
Just one smile and a fluttering of your eyelashes has muzan on his knees - a singular pout of your lips has his mind running wild
You just have to breathe and Muzan's heart squeezes, breath stuttering in his chest as he looks at you in adoration
You could ask for the world and he'd give it too you on a platter
Muzan worships you
Each touch from you is a blessing to his skin
Each kiss sealed into him
Each word of love that falls from your lips make him drunk to hear, each sentence thick with a love that leaves hearts in his eyes and his heart thumping wildly
He wants to wear you like a brand - each mark you leave on him (bite marks and all) are worn with pride - and you (and only you) get to touch and mark his skin in such sensual ways
Under his wedding ring, his finger holds your bite mark, something that he begs you to do each day - with love-struck tears pricking his eyes - and it always makes him feel like he's properly yours
"My Love," He purrs with a voice a think velvet "My wonderful wife, my moon and stars, I love you for ever and always" and he kisses you so softly
Sometimes you have to stop this man from wearing matching clothes with you - "But Beloved,"he whimpers with a face liked a kicked puppy "I want us to match" - because he will absolutely wear a matching couples outfit
Other days he just likes sharing the same colour palette
When you worship him by placing soft kisses to his skin - his wrists, knuckles and faces - Muzan feels like he's on cloud nine
Upper Moons Reactions:
When the upper moons first met you, it was by accident - pure accident -they'd been summoned and it just so happened that it was when muzan was just in the midst of kissing you and bathing you with compliments
Kokushibou doesn't even blink and just stands in position like a trained guard, this sight has been something he's accidentally stumbled upon a couple of times before and honestly it makes him miss his wife
Because this isn't the first time he's met you but rather the fifth, the first actually time he met you, you were incredibly respectful of him and actually treat him nicely - you became tea drinking buddies - so he quickly came to like you
Douma/Doma genuinely shrieks - like an honest to god scream - before quickly going to make fun (not a good idea) about how loving Muzan is and, "Why don't you treat us this way Muzan-sama~ You're breaking my heart~"
Akaza looks away from such an intimate scene with respect since it felt wrong to look upon his lord loving his wife - although his heart does ache for some reason when looking at such a perfect loving scene
Hantengu starts sobbing while apologizing anxiously - actually very jealous at how loving the scene is, he wants a wife and to dote on someone
Gyokko simply proclaims it as artful and simply leaves it as such
Daki Blushes a deep crimson - it makes her want a husband to dote on her so much
While Gyutaro simply sighs before looking away - much like kokushibou and akaza in respect - with jealous crawling up his ribs at such love, he wants somebody to dote on and love him so romantically
#kny#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#kny x reader#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#demon slayer x reader#kny muzan x reader#kny muzan kibutsuji x reader#muzan x reader#muzan kibutsuji x reader#demon slayer muzan x reader#demon slayer muzan kibutsuji x reader#kimetsu no yaiba muzan x reader#kimetsu no yaiba muzan kibutsuji x reader#x reader#anime x reader#kny muzan kibutsuji#kny muzan#muzan kibutsuji#muzan x wife reader#muzan kibutsuji x wife reader#kny upper moons
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hi! so I had an early seasons spencer reid request. it's his first day at the BAU and the reader is so taken by him, she has constant puppy eyes and he mentions about needing a coffee and the reader simply gives him her coffee cup and then morgan and emily are like 'you're whipped'
You've only just sat down at your desk with the heated cup, warmth seeping through the cardboard walls and tingling your palms. Emily, JJ, and Garcia all have matching cups, courtesy of the coffee bar three floors down.
As fate would have it, you're excruciatingly close to taking your first sip of the sugary brew when you hear the new recruit, Spencer Reid, pipe up from his own desk just across from yours.
"Agent Y/L/N," He calls respectfully, and you pause in raising the cup to your lips. There's steam escaping the drinking slot in the lid of the cup, but that's not why your cheeks are flushed.
"Hm?"
"Where'd you get that coffee? I didn't see any in the kitchen. Is there a cafe nearby, or...?"
"There's a coffee bar on the fifth floor," You're internally grateful that you're not stumbling and stuttering over your words like a bashful teen, even if there's butterflies running rampant around your stomach, "But we got the last of this batch, it takes them a while to clean the machine and start brewing more."
His face falls, only slightly, but it's noticeable to you as you study his face with rapt attention. Immediately you feel your stomach plummet, and you ramble to remedy his disappointment, "But- uh, here! You can just- have mine." You stand abruptly, reaching over to place the cup on his desk, "I haven't had any yet. And I probably shouldn't, I, uh, I had some earlier and if I have more I won't sleep tonight."
Spencer blinks bewilderedly at the coffee cup now sitting on his desk, and you notice with a different kind of sinking feeling in your stomach that you've attracted the attention of both Prentiss and Morgan.
"Oh. Thank you," Spencer murmurs, clearly taken aback, but grateful all the same, "Are you sure? I- I can wait, if you want it."
"No, take it," You sit back down, trying desperately to retain some grace despite your rather hasty and forward display, "We'll call it a welcoming present."
His cheeks tinge slightly pink, and his lips flatten into an endearingly awkward grin.
"Thanks," He repeats, reaching for the coffee and surely feeling the same warmth you'd felt, "Is there sugar in here?"
"Lots," You nod, and he raises it eagerly to his lips.
"This is exactly how I make it," He decides after evaluating the sip, and you have to clench your fingers tightly to your palm in order to contain a rather large grin.
Once the conversation dies down between the two of you you turn your head back to your desk, even if you'd rather gaze at the new hire all day. It's with shaking fingers that you begin typing on your keyboard again, but an email notification at the lower right corner of the screen catches your eye.
Sender: SSA Emily Prentiss
Subject: Whipped
You click on it with furrowed brows, the term whipped meaning something grotesque in your line of work. Instead of a case file, however, you find a simple message, 'Next time, why don't you just take a sip and kiss it into his mouth? That might be less obvious.'
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid one-shot#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid headcanons#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid hc#spencer reid hcs#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid dialogue#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader fanfiction#spencer reid smut
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Poison Ivy & Daisies
Clarisse La Rue x Demi-god!Reader
One-shot
Summary: Clarisse La Rue has been on your mind since the day you saw her, but because of your nervousness and her stand-offish attitude, you could never build up the courage to actually talk to her. At least, that was until you tripped on a rock
Warning(s): Swearing, mentions of r being clumsy, no pronouns used, & nervous/awkward!r
Notes: This is my first work for Clarisse. I'm still getting used to writing for her character, lemme know what you think
From the moment you stepped into camp, your mind has been plagued with thoughts of Clarisse La Rue—literally. The first time you saw her you thought you were looking at a princess. The person who was showing you around immediately warned you as soon as they noticed your longing stares.
You were then informed about Clairsse’s more… violent ways. You could care less. All you knew was that she was the most beautiful woman you have ever laid your eyes upon—but of course, you didn’t get the courage to talk to her until two months after you got to camp.
She was definitely stand-offish, that was evident. It wasn’t until you accidentally bumped into her that you finally spoke to her.
You were walking, not paying attention, when you suddenly tripped on a rock. You yelped as you tripped, but instead of meeting the ground like you expected, you bumped into someone. This person stumbled back a step before glaring at you, a glare so deadly you could feel it.
Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when you caught sight of the person. Clarisse fucking La Rue. Just your luck. You gulped as you looked back at her. You opened your mouth to say something, but the sound failed to come out.
“Watch where you’re going,” the Ares kid seethed with her fists balled up.
“R–right. Sorry, I didn’t see you,” you nervously apologized.
“Don’t let it happen again, or else,” she threatened before walking off. You were too busy wiping dirt off of your shirt to see Clarisse looking back at you one more time as she walked away.
The incident continuously haunted you. You finally get a chance to talk to your crush, and that is how it happens?
The next time you saw her face to face was the following week. You were practicing your sword fighting when suddenly somebody approached the dummy near yours. You didn’t think much of it as you continued to focus on your swinging and slashing.
“That’s my dummy,” you heard from beside you. You look over to see it was Clarisse who you heard. Any bit of confidence you had before instantly vanished.
“Your dummy?”
“Did I stutter?”
“Um, no—no you didn’t. I just—I just didn’t know.”
“And your slashing is pathetic,” Clarisse added before pushing you to the side. “You’re supposed to cross then stab. Not the other way around.” She rolled her eyes before demonstrating for you. After she showed you, she looked over to you again. “Are you just going to stand there? Repeat what I did.”
You weren’t sure how, but from that point on you started going to daily practices with Clarisse. You’re still a little confused on the specifics. One moment, she seems repulsed by you, but the next, she was training you. She never outwardly said it, but daily training with Clarisse automatically became apart of both her and your routines. You weren’t complaining.
—
Months and months of training led to this moment; capture the flag. You were surprised when Clarisse told you she wanted you on her team, usually people wanted the opposite. It didn’t take much convincing to get Annabeth on board. You couldn’t blame her; it’s not that you were bad at fighting, you just had the tendency to be clumsy at the worst times.
Your job was simple—stick by Clarisse’s side. You missed the looks Clarisse’s half-siblings gave her when she revealed this part of the plan, and the glare she sent their way.
You and Clarisse were crouched behind a tree, waiting for the right moment to act. While Clarisse’s eyes were busy surveilling the area, you were too busy admiring her in her armor. How could you not? It wasn’t until you felt something hit your chest armor, that you were pulled out of your trance.
You looked down, startled, and saw that it was Clarisse who hit your chest armor. “Stay focused.” She said as she continued to look around.
“Right. Focused.” You cleared your throat, eyes following to where the other girl was staring. “You look really nice by the way. The armor suits you,” you complimented. You had no idea where the spur of confidence came from. All you knew was that Clarisse was gorgeous, and you hoped she knew it too.
The compliment caught her off guard. She had no idea as to why you said what you did, frankly it confused her. But before she could utter a word, she saw her teammates signal to her. Guess her response would have to wait.
—
After the incident—that being Percy breaking Clarisse’s spear, and then him being claimed by one of the big three—everybody made sure to steer clear of Clarisse. The scream she let out was a reminder of why. It has been awhile since anybody has seen her that enraged. The only person to not follow this unspoken rule was you. You knew enough to know how important that spear is to her, so you could imagine how infuriated, and upset she was to see it rip in half.
You went to knock on her cabin’s door, but pulled your hand away when you noticed it was already open. You lightly pushed it open more before walking inside. Everybody else was gone, and it seemed like Clarisse was too until you caught sight of her sitting on the edge of her bed with both halves of her spear on her lap. She didn’t need to look up to see that it was you who walked in.
“What are you doing here?” She inquired, not looking up from her broken spear.
“I just wanted to check on you,” you responded in a painfully soft tone.
“I’m fine.” Her tone was dry and monotone. You carefully got closer before sitting down beside her, and to your dismay, she didn’t tell you to go away. You watched as her thumb brushed against her spear’s handle.
“Do you wanna talk about–”
“I don’t need your pity, nor your comfort,” Clarisse interrupted.
“Right, sorry,” you responded as you nodded your head. You suddenly remembered what was in your back pocket. “Oh, I uh,” you pulled out a daisy from your back pocket. “I saw it and I just thought of you,” you shrugged as you held it for her to see.
“A daisy.” The flower's stem was a slightly bent, the pedals were a mess, yet it was still beautiful.
“Yeah—if it’s stupid I could just–”
“No!” Clarisse said louder than intended. She cleared her throat, “It’s fine, I mean.” Butterflies erupted in her stomach as she watched a smile graze your face.
“Here,” your smile never faltered as you handed it to her. As she went to take it from your hand, her hand touched yours. The action caused heat to rush to the other's face.
“Thank you.” She averted her gaze, looking down at the daisy you handed her. “It’s… nice, I guess,” she uttered as she continued to study the flower.
“You welcome,” you replied as you looked at her admirably. “Sorry if it’s a bit messed up. It’s been in my back pocket for, like, a day.”
“It’s perfect.” Her words catch you off guard, a warm familiar feeling rushes through you—the same feeling you get when you think of the woman.
“Perfect flower for a perfect girl,” you said with such fondness in your voice. Now it was your turn to catch Clarisse off guard with your words. She pulls her eyes away from the daisy to look at you. Nobody has ever called her perfect before, and she knew you meant it.
Her eyes flickered down to your lips, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. It was just then that you realized how close your face was to hers. You both subconsciously begin to slowly lean in; “Can I kiss you?” You murmured. Instead of giving you a verbal response, her hand reaches up to softly cup your face before she leans in further. Her lips touches yours, sending electricity down your spine. Her lips were soft and welcoming as you kissed her back.
But before the kiss could go any further, the cabin doors abruptly opened. Your lips tear away from hers as you both look over to see who was at the door. Of course, the person who happened to catch you and Clarisse kissing was an Aphrodite kid. You looked away with flushed cheeks while Clarisse tried as hard as she could to hide her embarrassed expression.
“What do you want?” She asked impatiently, her arms crossed.
With a smirk, the other camper responded. “I need Y/N’s help with something.”
“Coming,” you managed to say. You got up to follow the camper, but not before looking back at Clarisse with a lovestruck expression. Clarisse could feel her heartbeat pick up as you made eye contact. When you left, she let out a sigh as she brushed back her hair.
No doubt this would be the talk of the camp by dinner. But for once, Clarisse didn’t mind.
-----------
A/N: Dior is actually so painfully gorgeous omg
#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse larue x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue#dior goodjohn#pjo#percy jackson#pjo fanfic#pjo x reader#heros of olympus
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# - 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆
˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : Yuji Itadori, Nobara Kugisaki, Yuta Okkotsu, Maki Zenin, Satoru Gojo & Toge Inumaki
masterlist | jjk masterlist | upcoming anon asks
Yuji
Yuji downright catches you two making out completely by accident. He borrowed a copy of a certain manga from megumi and planned to return it so when megumi told him just to bring it to his room to return it when he found the time, he not so subtly stumbled upon his two friends. Megumi was sat on his bed, you comfortably on his lap as sucked faces. His hands were rubbing your bad under your shirt, toying with the strap of your bra. Megumi’s hands moved to your hips to grind you on top of him.
Just as you were about to take the lead - “oh shit” stood at the entrance of your boyfriend’s door was non other than Yuji, eyes wide as he took in the position of you both. It took a few seconds of stuttered and jumbled up words only for megumi to grab a pillow and throw it in Yuji direction “piss off! Why don’t you knock next time?!” Narrowly missing the attack, yuji bent down to place the manga on the floor before quickly scurrying off in the furthest direction, “I’m so telling Gojo Sensei!”
Nobara
Nobara can tell straight off the bat just simply from the way you smile. “Why’re you smiling so damn much?” She’d ask, knowing damn well why. “Don’t I always smile this much?” Normally she’d agree until she sees the way your eyes flicker over to the table behind her, already imagining the love-stricken face a certain dark haired boy held. The next clue was the your reaction to a notification sounding on your phone, nearly diving for the device and soon followed by an even wider smile. “You’re practically glowing, you fucked already huh” whipping your head towards your friend you fumble over your words as a hue of pink stains your face - a dead giveaway. “that’s a sex glow if I’ve ever seen one”
Yuta
He is the one who keeps his nose out of everyone's business but even he couldn't help but feel intrigued when he noticed that Megumi had your scent on him one morning. Tasked with training with the first years, he was paired with Megumi. Battling back and forth caused the two to be within close proximity to each other, allowing Yuta to notice the whiff of perfume on Megumi’s uniform. Strange, where had he smelt that before? He’d find it strange how strong the scent was and took it upon himself to find out.
His opportunity arose on his walk through the school’s gardens, nearly knocking heads with you before he caught himself. Yuta didn’t even have time to open his mouth before a certain scent practically punched him in the face. And it certainly didn’t help when he was sat between you both on the field, overwhelmed with the mix of smells. “Do you guys swap deodorant or something?” Megumi just scrunched his eyebrows in frustration, his attention taken away from his book, “what the hell are you talking about now?” The irritation was clear in his voice as Yuta’s eyes flickered between you two. “You two smell like each other, why? You sleeping in the same bed or somethin’?”
Maki
Ohohoho she knew. Maki’s not stupid, she can see the way you both steal glances at each other, the secret smiles in the hallways, the ‘slick’ passing of notes… so when you start making excuses on days you’re due to train together she knew exactly where you’d be. “I’m really sorry but my mum asked me to head into Kyoto later to get something for her” another one of your white lies bled through your teeth. She just raised an eyebrow to your poor excuse. “A-ha, you heading there with your boytoy?” This of course caused you to trip over your words- “wha-I don’t-boyfriend? What’s that?” Only to receive a deadpan face in return.
Not only was that embarrassing enough but you just had to run into her in the hallways of your school - no less holding hands with your ‘boytoy’. “Oi name!” You heard from the other end of the hall, and unfortunately for megumi, causing your instincts to kick in. Quickly snatching your hand from his grasp you shoved him into a nearby classroom (hopefully not currently in use) followed by a crash bang - the tell tale signs of an upcoming injury and whiny boyfriend. “What was that?” Although she knew full well what - or who - that was. “Nothing! You’re seeing things!” You spat out in a panic. “Uh-huh, well tell megumi to come out when he has time, he has training with Gojo Sensei”
Gojo & Toge
Toge, the bastard, even though his speech fails him that doesn’t stop him from becoming the school’s gossip queen. Toge would be the one to tell everyone in the school group chat which of course includes Gojo which also leads the entirety of Japan to find out. And Gojo, oho Gojo, he’d make it his life mission to involve himself as much as possible in Megumi’s life. They’d actually work together; Toge would gather information and pass it on to his Sensei only for Gojo to use it against his son. They’d have their little gossip sesh during class of course, absolutely no shame whatsoever. But the way they found out was unfortunately unforgettable.
Walking into class after hours to get his pencil case that he mistakenly forgotten, Toge only walked in to find you sat on megumi’s desk with the boy sat on his chair with his head on your lap. Megumi had a girlfriend? Toge was almost convinced that he wasn’t into girls seeing as he paid no attention or care to the opposite sex. Oh how wrong he was. Of course he took a picture, what else was he supposed to do? Walk away? “Oh and what’s this?” Behind him of course was non other than the infamous six eyes - also his teacher. “Little Megumi’s not so little anymore huh”. If anyone were to see them they’d surely come off as creeps with Gojo’s tall frame shadowing Toge’s, both peeking through the screen door of the classroom. “Send me that picture won’t you?” Fortunately for them they didn’t make themselves noticeable, unfortunately for you word spread the next day.
—
=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 : I feel like I’m forgetting someone…
— 𝘒𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰
#‧₊˚🖇️#˖°.🪐.ೃ࿔#˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝒋𝒖𝒋𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒖 𝒌𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒏#jujutsu kaisen#fluff#jjk oneshot#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#megumi x reader#megumi x you#megumi headcanons#jjk megumi#megumi fushiguro#jujutsu megumi#megumi fushiguro x reader#jujutsu kaisen megumi#megumi imagine#fushiguro megumi#megumi fluff#megumi x y/n#jjk fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fushiguro#jjk crack#jjk scenarios#jjk fluff#jjk yuji#jjk nobara#jjk yuta
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Can i request a Mike Schmidt who actually got good sleep but his baby sitter/new found crush looks like she was hit by a train and he’s like “just sleep here” and his own thoughts come in with “take my bed.” (Which she tries to deny)
The sound of the front door closing and keys landing in the dish on the foyer table woke you up. You peeked your head over the back of the couch to look at Mike. He’s peeling the security vest off but for the first time ever he looks like he’s slept a full night.
“Hey. Abby still sleeping?” He calls over his shoulder.
“Yeah. Too early for her to be up,” you call back. Something in your voice sets off alarms for Mike. He glances back at you and sees you staring off into space, unfocused eyes blankly settled on the back of the couch. There are deep bags under your eyes and your hair is a hot mess, looking like you’d been tugging at it all night.
“You okay?” He calls tentatively. That gains your attention. Your eyes snap up and focus on his face. Immediately you send him an unconvincing smile as you stand from the couch. You begin gathering your things, keys and bag, while heading for your shoes.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m just- just tired. You seem well rested though,” the smile you shoot him this time is genuine, a softer version of your usual one. “I’m glad. You need the sleep.”
You drop your keys as you’re getting your shoes on, cursing and bending to grab them. Some part of the action through you off balance, and the next thing you know your butt is firmly planted on the hard wood floor. A dull pulsing pain emanates from the point of contact with the surface and you drown, looking down at the floor accusingly.
“Okay, come here,” Mike grunts as he slides his hands under your armpits. With a quiet groan from both of you, he hoists you to your feet. You stumble and regain your balance before looking up at Mike.
“Thanks,” you mutter as heat floods your cheeks.
“No problem,” he says, his brows furrowed slightly. You go to reach for your keys that are seated in his hand, but Mike pulls them back. “Listen, you’re exhausted. I don’t really want you driving home right now. Why don’t you sleep here?”
More heat rises in your face and you shift on your feet nervously. His face is close, almost too close to yours, his brown eyes demanding your focus and attention. His light scruff is distracting, so are his lips, and you almost get lost in them before remembering to respond.
“Oh no, Mike. I’m fine, really. I wouldn’t want to intrude, plus I’m sure Abby will want to watch TV and I don’t want to take over your couch,” You stutter and trip over your words as you try to rush them out.
“What do you-? Oh! No, no I meant like,” you swear you can see red tint his cheeks as his eyes dart away from yours for a second. “I meant sleep in my bed.”
Both of you go silent and stare at each other with wide eyes for a second. You distantly wonder if he can hear your heart pounding in your chest. Or maybe see your pulse jumping in your neck. Suddenly, Mike snaps out of the stupor.
“Not like that! I mean- No, I um, I mean I’m not gonna be using it since I’ll be up and I just washed my sheets and stuff so-“
You choose to save him from his own suffering.
“I would actually really appreciate that.” Just on cue, you yawn softly. “I think I’d be a hazard on the road and I don’t want that to be on your conscious.”
You send him a sheepish smile, hoping he detects the humor in your tone. He must, because his face lights up in a grin. You squeak in surprise when Mike suddenly squats in front of you, gently grabbing your foot and slipping off the one shoe you managed to get on. He stands and helps you shrug off your jacket.
You distantly register the sound of your keys crashing into the tray as Mike leads you down the hall and towards his room. His hand on your elbow is a warm comfort as he guides you to sit on the mattress. He tugs the blanket loose and gently pushes you down. You blink up at him sleepily as he pulls the blanket up to your chin.
“Stay as long as you need. Really. You do so much for us. Just… rest. Yeah?” He smiles down at you and right now you could swear he’s an angel. You feel your lips quirk up out of reflex and your hand reaches up, but you stop yourself before you can brush his cheek.
“Thanks,” you whisper softly. It’s hard to keep your eyes open now. The pillows, the sheets, the blanket, everything smells like Mike and it’s making you delirious. It’s a weird comfort, like Mike is actually holding you in his arms. The smell gets stronger and you want to open your heavy eyes to see why, but the feel of slightly chapped lips against your forehead tells you why.
That’s the last thing you register before sleep drags you into its clutches.
#mike schmidt#mike schmidt x reader#micheal schmidt#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt x y/n#mike schimdt x reader#mike schimdt smut#mike schmidt x fem!reader smut
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!smut, mdni!
thinking about spencer reid who has had a crush on the pretty BAU agent at the desk across from him ever since she started. she has been so swamped with work and paperwork and life recently and spencer notices the small changes in her behaviors because he notices every little thing about her. he sees the tighter grip she holds on her pens, making the ink bleed through the paper just slightly. he notices the way she starts to slam her coffee cup on the desk as opposed to gently sitting it down. he notices the heavy uptick of the amount of cups she’s having.
and it’s worse when they’re given a case. naturally, since they get along so well and since they’re probably the two smartest people in the world, hotch pairs spencer and his crush up throughout their time in phoenix, arizona. spencer sees the way she’s always cracking her knuckles and rubbing at the small of her back. he hear the tone in which she talks to the officers.
so, when they’ve finally caught their unsub just 6 days later, spencer makes sure to pick up her case files before she can even make it from her hotel room. he tucks them neatly under him as he sits down on the jet, carefully hiding them from her. he holds them hostage, knowing if she doesn’t see them, she won’t worry about them. out of sight, out of mind, as they say. she falls asleep quickly in the seat across from spencer. he can’t help but ogle at her beautiful sleeping form, knowing she really needs the rest.
and, once they returned to the musty bullpen that belongs to the BAU, spencer stays with her. he watches as she starts the paperwork he’d sneakily put on her desk, not letting her catch on to the fact that he’d taken it. he tries his best to focus on his own work, but the way she keeps groaning as she rolls her head back has him completely distracted. he’s barely three pages in when hotch emerges from his office, bidding both of them a goodbye and complimenting their work on the case
that just leaves spencer and the pretty agent across from him in the space.
time moves slower now, spencer thinks, which makes it even more agonizing to listen to her try to work out her over-exhausted muscles by herself. he can’t help himself as he breaks the comfortable silence that had been established.
“hey, y/n,” he inquires, knowing she probably doesn’t want to be disturbed right now. his suspicions prove to be true when she doesn’t look up, letting out a less than enthusiastic “hm?”.
“do you know the benefits of getting a massage?” this piques her interest, wondering where spencer was going to take this. sure, the recent stress in her life had her muscles aching at every hour of the day, but she didn’t think anyone had picked up on it. “i know the basics, spence.” she giggles, finally looking over at him.
he can’t dwell on the fact that this is the first time she’s smiled in about two weeks because his brain starts moving too fast for his mouth to keep up, “yeah, most people know they helps with muscle aches but they actually have a lot of benefits. massages help improve circulation and joint mobility. there’s also research that connects them to cosmetic effects, like improved and more even skin tones.”
he doesn’t expect her to still be paying attention to him, but he’s pleasantly surprised at the small smile spreading across her face. “hm, that sounds amazing. if only i wasn’t trapped here doing paperwork at almost three in the morning.” she answers sarcastically, turning back to her work. “i could give you a massage.” spencer stumbles out.
her cheeks start to heat up as she makes eye contact with him, wondering where he would take this. “i mean,” he backtracks, “i’ve read books on how to do shoulder and back massages. my eidetic memory means i could probably do an almost perfect one, if you’re interested. i’ve noticed the way you’ve been struggling with muscle aches.”
her face feels like it’s on fire with the way he’s making her blush. “um, sure, spencer, if you don’t mind.” she stutters and stumbles as she tries to accept his offer. he excitedly pushes himself of his hair, pulling up a closer one behind her.
his large hands start to knead at the knots at the base of her neck. he can feel the tension she’s built up over the past couple of weeks and tries to recall the techniques he’d read about so long ago.
this quickly becomes a challenging feat, as he moves his hands along the expanse of her back. she lets out light moans when he massages a particularly tight part of her muscle. the moans and grunts she’s making are going right to spencer’s cock. he’s so glad he’s behind her, because the tent in his pants continues to grow as he reaches the base of her back, where most of her pain had been.
her light moans have now increased in volume, and spencer is sure he should stop. he was not expecting to have this reaction from her, or react this way to her. his mind is cloudy and beginning to fill with filthy images that match the sounds she’s making now.
and god, he should stop. he knows he should pull his hands away from her, especially as he feels his stomach tighten and his dick throb in his pants. but he can’t. he needs to reach his release so bad, so he presses his fingers harder into her back, listening to the joyful sounds she’s letting out.
he doesn’t pull his hands away until he finally cums in his pants, too embarrassed to keep going. “thank you, spence. i feel a lot better. a lot less tense now.” she thanks him as he turns away from her, pushing in the chair he’d pulled over. he makes a few exclamations, saying it was no problem at all, before dashing off to the bathroom to try and get himself cleaned up.
#thought about this in the shower and just needed to get the idea out there#sorry i’ve been gone schools kicking my ass#be back soon#spencer imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid#criminal minds x y/n#criminal minds x you#criminal minds blurb#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds drabble#criminal minds smut#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you
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