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#but it is saying that if you know nothing about these movements why pretend like you do
notmyneighbor · 30 days
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Let Me in ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 3
Word Count ~ 2.5k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ blood and gore, body horror, character death, minor violence, dubious consent, sexual content
Also available on AO3
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
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You sit on the side of the bed that had once belonged to Francis Mosses.
The comforter and top sheet have already been pulled down. You lean over to slide out of your low heeled pumps, tucking the pair of navy leather shoes neatly under the bed.
There’s a bible on the nightstand. A worn looking copy. Beside it a glass with a shallow amount of water resting in the bottom, the remnant of a late night attempt to quench thirst, perhaps.
The doppelgänger watches your movements. How methodical each action is. Slow and deliberate. You’re stalling.
He settles beside you and the mattress creaks as the springs are compressed. That odd sort of shimmer you’d noticed earlier outside the security booth outlines his frame for a brief moment. A surge of light and color as the skin ripples before settling. They still weren’t completely able to disguise what they were. All hope was not lost.
Your own fate, however, seems sealed. You lie down slowly, carefully. You feel as if you are laying yourself to rest in your own coffin. Turning your face ever so slightly to see if there is any trace of the man that had once slept here, some lingering scent or an indent from his face. Nothing but the fragrance of clean linen. The imposter moves as if to join you but you halt him, your fingers closing over his forearm. Your first time touching him and not the other way around. “Take your shoes off.”
The creature snickers, glancing down at the scuffed oxfords he’s wearing. Overdue for a shine. “What possible difference does that make?”
“It’s respectful. You never put your shoes where someone sleeps.”
“He won’t be sleeping here ever again.”
You inhale sharply, wincing. “Please just do it.” You can’t say why you’re so hung up on this. Only that it seems the right thing to do. A small thing in a sea of wrongs that you’re clinging to like a life preserver.
“Fine.” He acquiesces, bending to unlace them. There is no care in his actions. Just brisk, impatient pulls to undo the knotted ties. Then he is lying beside you. Your heads sharing the same pillow. Francis only used a single one, apparently. Preferring to slumber lying with his head and neck rather flat. You always used two fluffy pillows, minimum.
You can hear the sound of music starting to play, emanating from the resident’s apartment next door.
Mia Stone, perhaps. The blonde teacher who was Dr. Afton’s fiancée. You instantly recognize the musical artist crooning through the walls: Billie Holiday.
I say I'll move the mountains
And I'll move the mountains
If he wants them out of the way
You would have loved to play this record for Francis. You envision trying to dance in the cramped space of the living room, twirling around in his arms. “Did he really like my fragrance?” You know the creature could lie, of course. He’d say anything to manipulate you and get what he wanted. But you have to ask. Your heart won’t let you avoid the query.
The dark eyes of the pretender regard you. You detect no malice or dishonesty there. “Yes,” he says simply.
You close your eyes, sighing. “What else did he like about me?”
“Your smile, gifted once you were certain it was really him. The way you covered your mouth when you laugh, making some little relieved joke when you passed his identification and entry request back to him each day. The strands of hair that came loose around your face as the day wore on into late afternoon when he returned from his route. The—”
“—Stop. Please.” Tears well in your eyes. They didn’t sound like the kind of details the deceiver would create on his own. There was a note of truth to them. Genuine recollections. He truly was all that remained of Francis Mosses. A man that had been fond of you. You could have been with him, if only you’d been a little braver.
“You asked me to tell you.”
“I know. It’s just overwhelming.”
Like the wind that shakes the bough
He moves me with a smile
“Your kind is so fond of music. Your milkman was always humming. I don’t see the use for it.”
The your wrenches your heart. He wasn’t yours. Never would be. “It’s a way to expression emotions. When words alone aren’t enough.”
“Hmmm.” He reaches out and you flinch. “Why are you fighting this so hard? This is what you wanted.”
“I didn’t want Francis to die.” You pause, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Why do you want this?”
”Curiosity. An experiment of sorts. There has never been a union between our kind. Not of this nature. A desire to know what it feels like. To see what might result.”
You shudder. An experiment. Using you like some kind of animal for breeding. A mere whim.
He reaches again and this time you force yourself to hold steady, your chin lifting with a short jerk of defiance. Your hair is his goal. Tucking it back behind one ear. Maybe something the milkman had wanted to do. There’s a sudden softness in the doppelgänger’s eyes. As if the human he’d once been was peeking through at you. You find yourself melting again, your defenses coming down.
I say I'll care forever
And I mean forever
He moves closer to you. Inching over across the white fitted sheet. A thumb strokes away one of the tears that has escaped its prison. He captures the other from the opposite cheek, bringing it to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the droplet. “Salt,” he says, recognizing the mineral.
He kisses you.
You’re not sure if it’s better to think of the man you had loved or not. Was it dishonoring his memory or was it a way to keep him present in some vague capacity? There’s no clumsiness this time. He knows the feel of your mouth. The way to shift against you. Tongue mapping past smooth cheeks and dragging along the carpet of muscle at the base of that maw. Maybe it was better to pretend this was Francis after all. You cup the back of his neck, fingers teasing the edges of his milk chocolate tresses. Curling slightly on the ends. It would be time for a trim soon. Would have been. The illusion you’ve created is crumbling again. Your lips falter, your hand dropping away.
Crazy he calls me
Sure, I'm crazy
Crazy in love am I
“Sweetheart,” the invader murmurs, tasting along your jaw, your neck. “I like the way you smell.” Speaking for himself, not Francis. You hear the sharp intake of air. The hand that had been casually laid across your shoulder slides down until it reaches your breast, gently kneading that globe through the layers of your bra and blouse. “Does this feel good?” His voice is octaves lower than you’d ever heard from the milkman. Slightly raspy and sultry, not unlike the singing voice that permeates through the wood and plaster behind the bed. You don’t dare answer, merely whimpering a little and he seems to take this as an affirmative response.
His hand leaves your breast and finds the top button of your shirt. Always sensible, pure white, part of the uniform standard the company requires. Another threaded plastic disc is pushed through the hole. He works his way down until all those that are exposed have surrendered, the remainder still tucked within your skirt. His fingers part the edges of the fabric encasing your torso, peeling them back to reveal the white satin brassiere beneath. He caresses you briefly through this slick material before tucking inside the cup until he brushes across your areola. Your nipple peaks beneath his ministrations as his lips move back to yours. He is surprisingly gentle, lightly pinching and rolling the aroused tissue. Your body betrays you, responding to the creature’s touch. You should be ashamed, disgusted. Instead you find yourself wanting more.
“Off,” he murmurs impatiently, plucking at your bra before his hand departs your chest. You struggle to sit up and he allows it, watching you pull your blouse free from your skirt and unfastening the cuffs before sliding it off your arms. With a swift gesture borne of long practice you easily pinch and release the hook and eye closures resting along the center of your spine, the cups immediately folding down over the underwire, the straps drooping over your shoulders.
The doppelgänger assists you now, sliding the brassiere off the rest of the way, exposing your chest to him. Your cheeks are pink, flushed like the nipples he’s toying with again, his head bending to suckle at one and a lick of flame sears your core. This is part of the invasive species’ learning process, you think. Taste as important as touch. His mouth moving not with the sole purpose of your pleasure in mind, but as a means to explore flavors and textures. Cataloguing. More of humanity’s secrets unveiled.
There is a song you don’t recognize playing next door now. Muffled voices. You’d had no idea the walls were so thin. Francis had never complained.
You’re shoved back down onto the pillow. His mouth wanders, back up to sample a collar bone, the hollow at the base of your throat, then dips in between your breasts and tastes the skin of your abdomen. You wonder if he can detect the floral soap you’d bathed with that morning, the traces of lotion you’d applied during your hygiene routine.
“I like this,” he says, his breath warm on your body. “You’re so soft. Smooth. Not like…I’ve never taken…” It had often been debated if there were sexes in their species. How they propagated. There was still so much unknown. Was there a reason he’d only chosen men to replicate? Was it simply because he was male himself? You could not explain how you knew it, but there was something distinctly masculine about him. Authoritative. Blunter than a woman would be. A lifetime of being raised to respect decorum had been firmly ingrained in you. Society valuing a woman who knows her place. Taught to be demure, deferring to the wisdom and guidance of their male counterparts. Serving and obeying, like you’re doing now.
The imposter returns his attention to your face. Licking your mouth back open. He likes this, you think. All of what you’d shared thus far, but perhaps the kissing best of all.
The background melody silences and you think you detect the front door opening and closing. You wonder if the couple will be going out to an early dinner. Curious when they find there is no one guarding the building. But not alarmed. Not yet.
Your skirt is being lifted, polyester dragged upward after the copycat’s hasty reach downward to gather the hem. Immediately sliding back down, stroking over your exposed thighs that are clad in nylons that stop midway across each of your upper legs. Nothing fancy, just utilitarian features in a shade of nude slightly more tanned than your own complexion. He nudges against the seal you’ve created by pressing your legs close together. “Let me in, sweet girl.” An echo of what he’d said earlier in an attempt to gain access to the building, now seeking entry into you. You feel your limbs parting for him nearly as promptly as you’d opened the door.
The pretender works his way back up to the fork of your body, teasing along the crotch of the white panties. You gasp and he smiles against your lips. His palm drags over the fabric until his fingers find the elastic waistband and he dips beneath it, running overly the neatly trimmed hair on your pubic mound, following the curve of that padded flesh until your sex is palpated.
Another gasp and a moan escapes you. “So wet,” he remarks, fondling the pink lips, parting the petals with his middle finger to slide through the slick arousal your body is creating, working the lubricant up and down, passing over the hooded nub and then delving back towards your entrance, where more fluid escapes.
It feels good and yet it doesn’t, his fingers too rough and just shy of where you need him. You squirm and wince at the harsh handling of your clitoris and he pauses, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Show me. Show me how you like to be touched.”
You reach down cautiously, guiding his fingers to one side of your sensitive bud, lightly pressing and rolling a fingertip so that your clit is ground slightly against the bone beneath. Alternating now, reaching back down to gather more of your slick before spreading it over that hooded button, a few direct strokes applied before beginning the process again. He replicates your actions and your body responds immediately, a hum of pleasure heating you. You close your eyes and you think of the milkman, the real one, with his kind smile and his tired eyes.
“Francis.” The name escapes your lips and you freeze, the rocking motion of your hips against the imposter’s hand abruptly ceasing. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Alarmed by how easily you’d allowed yourself to give in to the desire, accommodating this make believe passion.
“It’s alright, love. It’s me. I’m here.” His tongue laps at your ear, at the sensitive patch of skin behind it. You shiver and resume grinding against his fingers, letting yourself be deluded once more, your hand curling over his forearm.
“Francis,” you say again, hoping he can forgive you, in whatever form he now occupies, if he is saved as his faith professes he would be, finding redemption and peace, somewhere far from your sinning body that writhes in pleasure from his murderer’s touch.
You push against his hand and he allows it, applying force against the hollow cavity that leads to your womb. “Let me in,” he breathes, and you feel a finger invading your body, shoving through the narrow confines of that muscular tunnel. Withdrawing and spearing again, the digit saturated with your arousal. You moan and lift your pelvis to meet him. Curling inside, massaging that dip of spongy tissue. Crooking each time he enters as if he is leading you forward, beckoning, his thumb drawing circles over your clit. You feel as if you’re on the edge of a chasm, teetering on the rim, about to drop forward into heat and darkness. Keening now. Thighs tremoring violently. Your face turns and your teeth sink into the pillow. “There you go, love. Give it to me. Give in to me.”
The coiling pressure within you snaps and you find release at last, the fabric clenched in your teeth doing little to muffle the sound of your orgasm. You’re drenched in sweat, the aftershocks of your appeased nerves still sizzling through you. The doppelgänger cradles you through all of it, holding you as you ride the waves that exhaust your limbs, making you feel boneless and limp.
“Francis.” It’s a yearning plea, a futile prayer, answered by the thing that is not him, but masquerades as such, crooning to you, whispering false promises, draping you in synthetic affection, a lie you want so desperately to believe.
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pucksandpower · 5 months
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Hey Natalia, hope you’re doing good ❤️ Please could I request enemies to lovers with Max. You’re constantly at each other’s throats in front of everyone and Christian has had enough of your shit and demands to see you in the office. But when you continue to fight, he’s like nah I don’t wanna be involved, sort your shit out together and leaves. And you end up fucking on his desk and after you’re suddenly super friendly around eachother. Thank you lovely! xxx
Whiplash
Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader
Summary: You and Max discover that there is a thin line between lust and hate
Warnings: 18+ content
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You storm into Christian’s office, scowling as Max follows right behind you. He slams the door shut and you both take a seat across from Christian, refusing to even look at each other.
“I’m sure you both know why I called you in here,” Christian says sternly. “The tension between you two has gone too far. It’s affecting the team and we can’t have that.”
You scoff and cross your arms. “Why don’t you talk to him about it then? I’m not the problem here.”
Max scowls. “Oh please, don’t pretend like you’re so innocent. You’ve been nothing but hostile towards me since the start of the season.”
“Only because you did the same!” You retort. “I was nothing but nice when I first joined the team. You’re the one with the attitude problem.”
“Enough!” Christian shouts, silencing you both. “I don’t care who started it. I’m ending it. We’re in the middle of a championship fight and I need my drivers to work together, not against each other.”
You sink lower in your chair, still refusing to look at Max. The animosity radiates off of him in waves.
“Now you’re going to stay in here until you work this out,” Christian says firmly. “I don’t care if it takes all night. Fix this mess or both of your seats are on the line.”
He heads for the door and you spring up from your chair. “You can’t be serious!”
“Deadly,” Christian replies before shutting the door. You hear the lock click into place from the outside.
You jiggle the handle and pound on the door. “Let us out!”
No response.
He’s really done it, that bastard. Locked you in a room alone with your most hated rival.
You take a deep breath before turning around. Max sits there glaring at you, jaw clenched. “This is ridiculous,” he mutters.
“For once we agree on something,” you snap.
His glare hardens. “Don’t pretend you’re blameless. You’ve been nasty since you got here.”
You storm over to him. “Because you decided to hate me from day one! I tried to be nice but you were so damn hostile. What’s your problem with me anyway?”
Max stands up abruptly, getting in your face. “My problem is you waltzing in here like you own the place when I’m the number one driver.”
You shove him in the chest. “Get over yourself! I earned my spot here.”
He shoves you back. “You don’t deserve to be here.”
Your blood boils as you stare him down. God he’s infuriating. And stubborn as hell. You doubt you’ll ever get him to admit any fault in this situation.
“Well I’m not going anywhere so I guess you’ll just have to get used to it,” you snap.
Max steps even closer, eyes blazing. Your noses nearly touch from how close he stands. “Is that so?” His voice comes out low, almost husky.
A shiver runs down your spine but you keep glaring at him. “Yeah, that’s so.”
You expect him to shoot back some nasty retort. Instead his eyes flick down to your lips for just a moment before meeting your heated gaze again.
Suddenly the energy shifts between you. The anger and tension remains but it transforms into something more primal. More dangerous.
Your breaths come heavier as electricity crackles in the nonexistent space left between you. Max’s pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and falling as rapidly as your own.
“I ...” Your voice comes out hoarse. “We should ...”
But neither of you make any move to step away. Without thinking your tongue darts out to wet your dry lips. Max tracks the movement with his intense stare.
“Fuck it,” he growls before crashing his mouth onto yours.
You gasp into the kiss and he takes advantage, deepening it. His hands grasp your hips roughly as he walks you backwards until your back hits the wall.
You barely process what’s happening. One second you were at each other’s throats, the next his body is pressing urgently against yours.
A moan escapes you when his lips move to your neck. He nips at the sensitive skin there and you thread your fingers into his hair.
“This is insane,” you pant out even as you tug him closer.
“I know,” Max breathes against your neck. His hands skim up your sides, pushing up your shirt. “I hate you.”
“I hate you more.” You crash your lips together again, tasting blood when you nip at him.
Max groans into your mouth as your tongues slide together. He hitches one of your legs around his hip, grinding against you.
You break the kiss to tip your head back, moaning at the feeling. Fuck, you despise this man, but right now you need him more than anything.
His hips keep up that delicious friction as he mouths at your collarbone. “I’m still going to beat you,” he rasps out.
You smirk, nails digging into his shoulders. “In your dreams.”
Max’s eyes darken at your taunt. Without warning, he grips your thighs and lifts you onto Christian’s desk. You gasp as he pushes between your legs, his growing arousal obvious.
“Careful what you wish for,” he murmurs before crushing his mouth to yours once more.
You moan into the frenzied kiss, tongues tangling as you tug at his hair. His hands slide up your thighs, fumbling with the button of your jeans to push them down around your ankles. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him against your heated core.
Even through the layers of clothing you can feel how hard he is. You rock your hips, desperate for more friction. Max groans and moves his lips to your neck, nipping down to your collarbone.
Your head tips back as his fingers dance up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts. “God, I hate you so much,” you moan.
“I know.” His voice comes out rough, filled with lust.
Impatient, you reach for the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, tossing it aside. Your eyes rake over his muscular chest and arms. Unable to resist, you lean in and scrape your teeth over his nipple.
Max hisses in a breath, hands clenching on your hips. “Fuck ...”
You grin, laving your tongue over the sensitive nub as your fingers move to his belt buckle. With shaky hands you get it open and reach into his boxers, fingers wrapping around his thick length.
He shudders against you. “Shit, Y/N ...”
You stroke him firmly, reveling in the moans and curses falling from his lips. His own hands move under your shirt, palming your breasts through your bra.
It’s not enough. You strip off your shirt and reach back to unclasp your bra. Max wastes no time dipping his head to capture one of your nipples between his lips.
“Oh god ...” you gasp, back arching into him. His teeth and tongue work over your sensitive peaks until you’re writhing beneath him.
The sound of voices outside the door makes you both freeze. Fuck. The race weekend is still going on around you. Anyone could walk by and hear what’s happening.
You meet Max’s heated gaze. “We should stop,” you pant out half-heartedly.
His eyes blaze with defiance and lust. “No fucking way.”
Before you can react he drops to his knees, grasping your hips to pull you towards the edge of the desk.
Max tugs strongly on your lacy underwear until it gives way at the seams, baring you to him. He pauses to appreciate the view, eyes roaming hungrily over your glistening folds.
“I’m still going to beat you tomorrow,” he rasps.
You tug on his hair impatiently. “Just get on with it before we get caught.”
With a wicked grin he dives in, mouth latching onto your throbbing clit. You cry out, quickly slapping a hand over your own mouth.
You fumble with his belt, desperate to feel him. Max groans as you wrap your hand around his length.
“Fuck, just like that,” he groans against your skin, increasing the rhythm of his tongue in response. The desk rocks dangerously beneath you but neither of you slow your ministrations.
You whimper his name, pleasure building steadily under his expert touch. The fingers of one hand twist in his hair while you keep your other hand moving up and down in measured strokes as you near the edge.
“Look at me,” Max commands raggedly. You open your eyes to meet his wild gaze. The connection between you crackles.
“Max ...” you gasp as your climax crashes over you. You slap a hand over your lips, muffling your cries.
As you float back down, Max withdraws his mouth. You keen at the loss but then he’s lining himself up at your entrance. Gripping your hip tightly, he pushes inside in one smooth motion.
You cling to his shoulders, nails digging in as you adjust around him. Max trembles with restraint, giving you a moment before he starts to move.
Then he sets a relentless pace, the desk slamming against the wall with each powerful snap of his hips. You wrap your legs around him, spurring him even deeper.
Max pounds into you relentlessly, wrenching desperate moans from your lips. You’re vaguely aware of picture frames and papers tumbling to the floor around you but the chaos only adds to the thrill.
You’re close, the pressure building deep inside. With a few more well-angled thrusts you topple over the edge, coming hard around him. Your breasts bounce as your back arches sharply off the desk.
“There you go, princess,” Max rasps. He continues driving into your spasming center until his rhythm turns choppy and erratic.
“Fuck, I’m close,” Max grits out. You clench around him, greedy for his release. His hips stutter and then he spills inside you with a guttural groan. The sensation pushes you over the edge again, your vision whiting out from the intensity.
Breathing raggedly, Max collapses on top of you, pinning you to the desk. You’re both slick with sweat and utterly spent, your heart rates slowly returning to normal. You run your fingers through his damp waves soothingly.
The room is silent save for your heavy breathing. As the haze of lust clears, the ramifications of what just happened settle over you.
You just slept with your sworn rival on your team principal’s desk.
After a long moment Max pulls out of you and steps back, tucking himself away. On shaky legs you slide off the desk, stumbling slightly as you find your feet, and rush to put on your clothes.
Max grabs his shirt off the floor and shrugs back into it. His hair is mussed wildly and his lips are kiss-swollen. You’re sure you look much the same.
You and Max spring apart at the sound of the lock clicking open. Christian strides back into his office, oblivious to the disheveled state that both of his drivers are in.
“Well, have you two worked out your differences?” He looks between you expectantly.
You smooth down your rumpled shirt and attempt to tuck your wild hair back into place. Your cheeks flame as you meet Christian’s gaze.
“I think we’ve come to an ... understanding,” Max says evenly, though you notice a hint of color in his cheeks as well.
Christian surveys his office, taking in the askew trophies and books scattered across the floor. You hold your breath, certain he’s going to put two and two together.
“It seems you had a disagreement about reorganizing my office during your chat,” Christian says wryly.
You nearly choke in surprise. Does he really not realize what just transpired on his desk? You chance a glance at Max and have to suppress a hysterical giggle at the disbelief on his face.
“I apologize for the mess, we got a bit ... heated,” you say, biting your lip to keep from laughing at the double meaning.
“Yes, clearly things escalated between you two.” Christian frowns at a photo of him and Dietrich Mateschitz now lying cracked on the floor. You resist the urge to shrink under his disappointed dad stare.
“However, the important thing is you’ve worked through this animosity once and for all, correct?” He looks between you expectantly.
You and Max nod in unison. “Water under the bridge,” Max assures him. You’re impressed by how steady he manages to keep his voice even as you can see the barely contained mirth dancing in his eyes.
“Excellent. I’ll inform the team that tensions are resolved and they can stop walking on eggshells around the both of you.” Christian claps his hands together, apparently satisfied. “Now get out of here and get ready for free practice.”
You and Max don’t need telling twice. As soon as the door shuts behind you, the laughter you’ve been holding in bubbles out.
“I can’t believe he actually bought that,” Max says between chuckles.
“We literally destroyed his office and he thinks we just had a minor spat,” you giggle, shaking your head incredulously.
Your laughter trails off as the reality of what happened sinks in. You just had crazy hot sex with Max Verstappen. Where do you go from here?
Before you can overthink it, Max presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Meet me at the hotel tonight? We should continue this conversation somewhere more private,” he murmurs suggestively.
You bite your lip but find yourself nodding. As complicated and ill-advised as this may be, you can’t find it in yourself to deny your attraction to Max now that you’ve given in to it.
“It’s a date,” you whisper back.
Max grins and steals another quick kiss before you part ways to get changed.
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tarrynightss · 1 year
Text
How they are during your pregnancy + how they are with the baby
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Pairings: Jake, Quaritch, Tonowari, Tsu’tey x fem!reader
Warnings: Pregnancy, childbirth (nothing graphic), fluff
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Jake Sully
With Jake the pregnancy would definitely be a planned thing. He does his best to prepare himself, talking to Norm and anyone else he can find that has a good pair of brains. He wants to know exactly what to do in every situation that might occur, even reading up on it. It’s cute and you are glad that he’s doing his best to protect both you and the baby, but after you are a few months in, you almost want to rip his head off when he asks “Does your back ache? What is your pain level on a scale of 1 to 10?” yet again.
He’s constantly fussing over you, especially when you are getting close to your due date. The regular checkups from the human scientists have your Tsahík fuming, but Jake wants to make sure all ground is covered. He’ll take all the death stares if that means you and the baby are healthy.
Jake almost starts running circles like he’s in looney tunes when the birth starts. Another Na’vi has to force him to sit down by your side, and even then his tail is constantly swatting all over the place in anxiousness.
The type to say “god damn!” when he watches the baby being pushed out, making you almost snap his hand in two.
He won’t be able to take his eye off of his child when it’s born, hugging both you and them to his chest. He’ll kiss your sweaty forehead, crying as he tells you how well you did and that he’s so proud of you.
Sorry but when the baby is a few weeks old he definitely pretends to drop it because he thinks it’s funny, earning angry hisses and swats from you.
Will constantly cuddle with the baby when you aren’t holding them, rubbing his nose against their little belly. He’ll also love squishing their cheeks together and playing with their tiny ears, having them make funny faces at you.
Gags at least once when changing a diaper but doesn’t complain, just soldiers through.
Miles Quaritch
Who gave this man another kid?!? You did, and when Miles finds out he almost drops dead. He had just kinda assumed that they had snipped his ability to reproduce away just as they had snipped his ears. Boy was he wrong.
When your stomach starts growing and your urge him to touch it, he does so with much reluctance as he’s scared he might hurt the child. The tiniest hint of movement under his hand makes his ears perk up, and he’ll bend down to lay one against your belly. Na’vi hearing is incredibly good and he hears the thrumming heartbeat of your child instantly. “Our baby,” you whisper and caress over his hair. He repeats it back to you, accepting it a little bit more.
Miles continues telling Spider that you’ve just gotten fat until finally the boy has had enough, clearly seeing that you are pregnant. He gives his dad an earful about how he couldn’t even take care of him, so why the fuck is he having another. A valid point, but Miles tries to tell both himself and Spider that that was human Quaritch, not him. The boy accepts it just because you’ve always been a motherly figure to him, but he shoots Miles glares whenever he comes near.
He does his best to take care of you but this man is not exactly used to being gentle. He’ll cuddle you and rub over your stomach and back, trying to suite your aches. Where he fumbles is when you’ve been up almost all night, puking your insides out, and he dares to complain about his sore back. SORE BACK?!! He’s sleeping on the ground after that.
Strangely enough, as the months progress the pregnancy seems to be what forms you, Spider, and Miles into a true family. Both enjoy putting their hand on your stomach and feeling the baby kick, Spider letting out an excited “wooow!” at the force every time.
Miles starts sharing with Spider the few memories old Quaritch had of him as a baby. “Your head was gigantic,” Miles tell him, staring up into the sky with a grin. Spider laughs out a no, peeking over you to see his father. You lay like this often now, side by side as a family. “Humongous,” Miles doubles down, making you all cackle.
Miles is scared when you give birth, his eyes tightly closed as he holds onto your hand. He knows he doesn’t deserve to have this after all he has done, but lord, please let you and the baby be alright. He holds his breath till finally, he hears the baby’s first cry, his eyes snapping open. Both of you cry as you cradle your child close to your heart.
Suddenly becomes an expert on how to handle babies, constantly telling Spider to be careful with this or that, barely even letting him hold the baby the first few days.
Takes pictures of your child with a leaf hat on or something and finds it absolutely hilarious.
Carries the child everywhere, strapping them to his chest like a real male wife.
Tonowari
The first child born from your union is nothing short of a blessing to him. Even when your stomach is barely noticeable, he constantly touches it and it becomes a comforting feeling for the both of you.
Parades you around in front of the clan like you are the rarest jewel. He’s so, so proud of his beautiful mate, so happy that she’s carrying his child. He wants the whole world to see.
Tonowari constantly gives you massages, not even giving your feet or back the chance to start aching. He was already big on doing so before, but now you aren’t leaving the tent before the morning massages are done.
He’s so supportive and there for you that he goes as far as to hold your hair while you puke. You can scream your hormones out at him all you want and this man will just smile to himself, noting how ferocious you look like this.
Tonowari basically is the midwife during your birth, holding onto your arms as he helps you pace your breathing. When you push he puts his forehead against yours to comfort and support you.
Holds the baby up for the others to see after they’re born, the biggest smile on his face. He won’t stop bragging about his child to anyone who will listen. Every bump or blink is worth a reward in his eyes.
Takes the baby to watch over the ocean, telling them stories about all his adventures. When the baby eventually starts being able to point, he’s absolutely delighted, following to see what their chubby finger is pointing it. Whether it’s a simple barnacle or a fish, Tonowari will tell his child in great detail about whatever peaked their interest.
Tsu’tey
Finally. He has waited so long to have his own family and he’s absolutely overjoyed when he hears the news. He’ll pick you up and spin you around while laughing and cheering, making everyone around you wonder what is going on.
Tsu’tey was always protective of you, but with the pregnancy that gets 10 times worse. He’s constantly hovering over you, never letting you go out alone in the fear you’ll get hurt. You try to assure him you’ll be careful, but that’s not good enough. Too much can happen in a blink of an eye. He simply won’t allow it.
Instantly starts collecting beads for both the baby’s songcord and for their first neck piece, though the second will still have to wait a long time to be worn. He’s just too excited, already fantasizing about all he will teach his child, all the memories they will make.
He talks to the baby every night when the two of you are alone. Tsu’tey lays his head against your belly and tells your child all about his day, but also stories about what he and you have gotten up to in the past. It’s heartwarming to you to just lay back and watch him, chuckling now and then at his words.
Tsu’tey doesn’t just hold your hand during birth, he sits behind you, holding in his lap. He breaths with you as if one, stroking lovingly over your arms and legs as he encourages you to keep going.
Love is a word not strong enough to express what he feels for your child. As soon as their eyes meet, he smiles the brightest he has ever done in his life. The baby is perfect in his eyes, a beautiful mix of the both of you.
He loves sleeping with the baby cuddled up against his chest. At first he was too scared he might crush them, but after you swore you would watch him during those little moment, he gave in. It were the best naps he’s ever had, his heart beating as one with his child. Tsu’tey hadn’t thought he would ever feel this at peace.
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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Jujutsu Kaisen Characters + Kinks
Pairing: Yuuji Itadori, Ryomen Sukuna, Fushiguro Megumi, Nobara Kugisaki, Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Mahito x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, praise kink, cockwarming, mutual masturbation, choking, edging, dumbification, cnc, semi-public sex, rough sex, dom/sub
A/N: I've seen these for a few fandoms and I thought why the hell not do it.
YUUJI + EDGING
Yuuji is strong, strong enough to take what he wants with no problem. Because of that he feels like its so much more fun when you make him work for it, when his cock and balls hurt from the amount of times you've told him to stop himself from coming. Its been god knows how many hours and yet you keep riding his cock, his eyes foggy with lust as he waits to hear you tell him he can finish.
SUKUNA + CNC
There was a time where consent wouldn't be on Sukuna's mind much, where he knew that everyone would throw themselves at his feet, and his cock when he so much as looked at them. But its so fan to watch you pretend to do the opposite and try to fight him off as he fucks orgasm after orgasm from your cunt. Go ahead, scream, yell curse him out, in the end you both know the truth of it: you wanted it rough, and he was only too happy to break you apart.
FUSHIGURO + MUTUAL MASTURBATION
Be it over text, call, video or in person, mutual is the only kind of masturbation Fushiguro wants once you're a couple. He's fantasized enough, now he wants to see every minute of it. He wants you to look at his bulging tip, how the cum rolls down and makes his cock slick and ready for you while you show him how you want to be fucked by riding that pretty, big, purple dildo right in front of him.
NOBARA + PRAISE KINK
Nobara gets praised a lot by her friends and mentors, its never the same as when you do it. She honestly never knew she had a praise kink until one night when you wouldn't shut up about how good it felt to have her mouth and tongue between your legs. With every breathy, broken word she doubled and doubled her efforts, not wanting it to end, not wanting to stop tasting your delicious pussy.
GOJO + SEMI-PUBLIC SEX
Fucking you behind the temple before a meeting was a thrill like no other. There was a chance that at any moment someone could walk past and see you bent over a statue and taking Gojo's cock like you were a slut instead of a Sorcerer. You can relax, he's keeping an eye out for that, you only need to worry about keeping your voice under control. Little good it does for you both when the sounds of wet slaps are being heard every second.
NANAMI + COCKWAMING
He loves having you sit on his cock while he's working at the desk, looking through cases or papers. He doesn't get to feel you for this long most of the time. Its a rare treat for him, and for you, to constantly feel him throbbing, ready to explode inside of your cunt at the smallest movement. Better stay still, don't make him ruin his suit right before a mission. He'd have a lot to explain and not enough nerves to do so.
GETO + DUMBIFICATION
Nothing more satisfying then watching your fade away into becoming just a sex toy on Geto's cock. You no longer have to think, he'll do all the thinking for the both of you, not that you had much brains to begin with. You don't even have to use your mouth unless its to suck his cock clean after he's filled your pretty pussyhole up with cum. Be his good fucktoy and he'll make sure not to fuck your brains out completely.
MAHITO + CHOKING
You're not allowed to do anything without Mahito saying you can, your purpose is to take his cock and like it, nothing more. Are you talking back? That won't do at all. He's got many solutions for that but the one that gets him hotter then any other is seeing your eyes tear up from straining to breathe when his hands wrap around your throat. Beg but he won't let go, not until you put your pussy to work and milk his cock dry.
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derangederensimp · 10 months
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Your Roommate Toji
Jujutsu Kaisen Smut
Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader
CW: Masturbation, Sadism, Masochism, Oral Fem receiving, Virginity Loss, Healthy Age Gap (Toji is his mid 30s and me being the author and write the stories based on me, I’m 22 so) daddy kink, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Biting, Hickeys and whatever I missed.
🔞 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. WE ARE NOT HAVING A REPEAT OF WATTPAD
A thank you to @poohbea for making the Toji Gif 🥴
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“H-harder please go harder” you moaned, tossing your head back into your pillows. The vibrator buzzing inside as you fantasized your roommate in it’s place instead your cheeks burned with embarrassment at your desperation. Right when you were about to finish you heard the jangling of keys and shoes being kicked off hitting the floorboards, instantly turning off your toy and tossing it to the side. You hear heavy footsteps, you think they are walking past but then your door swung right open. There stood your roommate. Luckily you were under the covers and now clothed again after pulling your pants on. A mistake was not having enough time to put your vibrator back in your nightstand. There the man stood, his black t-shirt couldn’t have been tighter as he hung in the doorway. His face was wearing that grin you always hated but the curve of his lip showcased the scar so beautifully.
“Toji what the fuck, knock!” you scolded. “No” he bluntly said before walking into your room and plopping onto your bed, he was dangerously close to your toy and you hoped he wouldn’t somehow trigger it on somehow. “Why should I knock if you are alone all the time y/n?”
-
Toji knew that most of your nights you spent alone and knocking wasn’t really needed. Nor did you ever ask him to knock before so he knew something was up. He didn't need to worry about his innocent roommate sleeping around and inviting random men into his house. Laying his head into his hand he stared at you squinting his eyes at you although he had a few drinks in him he knew his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. Being an experienced man he knew that smell well, you were turned on, just what were you doing before he got home. He smirked at the thought before chuckling to himself
All those nights he’d lay in his bed, cock in hand pumping his fist furiously imagining it was your hand instead of his rough calloused palm. Lusting over what your moans would sound like if they were caused by him instead of your damn vibrator. Why wouldn’t you just ask him to fuck you he’d think to himself almost making him want to ge out of bed and angerly pound on your door and ask why. Show you what you’d sound like with him between your thighs instead.
He was sobering up but knew he could play the part of being more tipsy to see what you would say to his request. Every other time he attempted to hit on you or get you to fuck him you’d brush him off but now that you were horny would you reject him now? If you rejected him then he could pretend the next day nothing happened. Of course his ego would be a bit bruised but nothing a night out couldn’t fix.
-
“Y/nnn” he dragged out your name while he laid on his side. He finally caught on to your eye movements shifting from him to a spot on your bed that his arm was getting close to. “Seems like it wasn’t a successful night” you said trying to grab his attention. Whenever Toji would go out drinking with his friends he’d always come back bragging about fucking some chick before he left the bar but little did you know he was bluffing. Ever since you moved in he cut that shit out, he knew one way or another you two would hit it off and maybe have some fun together if that’s what you wanted or that he’d make you his if that's what you desired.
“I just want to be between your thighs y/n.”
Your eyes shot open wide at what you just heard, sitting up straighter in bed you went to speak but he interrupted you.
“This thing couldn’t please you now could it” his large hand grabbed the toy on top of the covers before his thumb switched it on. Your face felt like it was burning as your mattress vibrated. You felt like your body couldn’t move as he switched it up a notch making it vibrate on the highest setting “is this the setting you use when you think of me y/n? You look so cute when you blush, why are you embarrassed? You don’t think I hear you late at night with my name on your tongue? You know all you had to do was ask.” There it was that grin again but this time his eyes were half lidded, pupils blown black like he was eyeing his prey ready to jump you.
But he didn’t touch you, he stayed right there just his hand on your vibrator waiting for your response. You couldn’t tell if you were just having one of those very vivid dreams but the sound of your vibrator shutting off and the feeling of your bed getting lighter snapped you out of your trance. Looking up he was heading for the door with his hands tucked into his pockets. Getting up you stumbled over your feet slightly but was able to grab onto his shirt stopping him in his tracks “I took your silence as a no y/n”
“Y-you didn’t give me enough time to process all that you said. You’ve never spoken to me like that before let alone have I ever had a man speak to me that way before..” you tightened your grip on his shirt not letting go. “Oh so the men you sleep with must be boring huh?” Toji tried to take a step forward but now your body was pressed against his back. He could feel your breasts beautifully pressed on him, making his cock stir to life in his pants.
“Y/n” his low voice called your named.
His muscles felt so nice in your hands as you softly ran them on the back of his arms slowly feeling around each curvature, your brain taking note of how he let out a sigh when your nails accidentally grazed his skin a little hard. “I haven’t slept with anyone before Toji, I just use the vibrator” you say as close as you can get to his ear while standing on your tippy toes dragging your hand down his neck before going flat on your feet again. His fists clenched in his pockets as his cock pulsated in his pants. Thinking to himself that it was perfect, his roomate really was this innocent woman he painted her out to be and with her permission he could make her his. “Fuck, would you like that to change Sweetheart?”
“Please” you breathed out, your tone sounding so needy. He was quick to turn around, looking at you up and down. He couldn't help but grin at your face and how you tried to avoid looking at him. Grabbing your chin and bringing his face down to yours he kissed your lips putting his palm on your cheek as his other hand rested on your hip walking you backwards to your bed till your knees hit your mattress. The warmth of his palm on your skin could make you melt. His kiss only became more heated when he slipped his tongue into your mouth lifting you up onto your bed and caging your body beneath him. When he finally pulled away a string of saliva still connected the two of you.
He slid his hand up your shirt groping your breast in his hand squeezing it. He was glad you weren’t wearing a bra. It was one less thing he had to take off of you “I can go slower if you need me too” he said in between peppering your neck with kisses. “More” you softly moaned. His cock painfully pressed against his pants twitching begging to be let loose, biting his inner cheek he knew he needed to hold himself back at least for your first time. He bit down on your neck leaving teeth marks behind, your fingers dug into his shoulders making him groan. “Did you like that sweetheart?”
All you could do was nod your head, your brain was short circuiting trying to keep up with the fact that your roommates lips were on your neck, his teeth left marks on you, and hands were feeling you up.
Next to go was your shirt he lifted it up over your head tossing it to the side, he couldn’t help but say fuck at your breasts, the way they bounced when he pushed them around made his head spin. Taking them into his hands he kissed from your neck down, taking a nipple into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around it made you take a fistful of his hair and cry out his name. Filling Toji’s fantasy of hearing you moan his name but he couldn’t wait till he was pounding into you to hear you cry it out instead.
His other hand tweaked the other nipple making you squirm beneath him. He looked up at you with his mouth still clasped to your nipple before letting it go with a pop sound “too much? I haven’t even gotten started yet” He teased. Switching to the other nipple to sucked on it a few times before he kissed down your stomach, stopping at a few places to leave hickeys and bite marks to hear your whines before he got to your shorts.
These shorts drove him fucking crazy, they barely covered your ass and you would wear these while he had his friends over. Toji would often have to go to his room for a few minutes to pump one out after seeing you bend over exposing your entire ass to him by accident and how you’d act like he didn’t see a damn thing. But now he has the pleasure of finally taking them off of you.
Before he could, your legs shut on him. He managed to part your legs a little bit for him to get a peek at your face “y/n comeon open up, I want to get a taste. You’ll let daddy taste his sweet girl won’t you?” He wanted to try out how you’d respond to calling himself Daddy and he wasn’t expecting to see your pupils full black with lust and your hand now resting on his head. “Now that’s a look I could get used to. Spread your legs. Now. I won’t ask again” he rubbed his hands up and down your thighs not breaking eye contact from you while you slowly spread your legs wide for him.
Toji liked the idea of corrupting you. You liked him being called daddy, you liked when he bit your neck leaving marks, pulling his hair, and clawing his back so inflicting pain as well. His mind was swirling with what else you could possibly be into but for now he’d stick with these not to overwhelm you.
“That’s Daddy’s Good Girl.” Toji praised, hooking his around your waistband and panties yanking them off in one swoop. He stared marveling at the sight of your soaked cunt, your juices flowing out of you and onto the plush of your ass. Grabbing your thighs he pulled you flush to his face, his tongue laying flat against you giving one first lick up before he went to attacking your clit with the tip of his tongue and his fingertips digging into your thighs.
Your hand going straight to his hair, taking a fistful of it as your head sank further into the pillow, a moan ripping through your throat as he started to suck on your clit, his eyes staring up at you in a hungry state as if he was asking you for more. Letting go of your clit with a pop sound he put his thumb at your clit rubbing circles into it as his tongue licked at your cunt, slowly putting it inside when your walls squeezed making Toji groan. He couldn’t wait to feel you on his cock. His other hand reaching up to your breast playing it in his palm before he tweaked your nipple. Your moans growing louder and louder either each movement combined making your thighs begin to shake and back arch.
Lifting his mouth from your lips “you wanna cum?” He teased, slowing his thumb down to a stop and just applying pressure making you whine out his name. “Use your words sweetheart” he kept his eyes on you, biting his inner cheek wanting to go back to licking you clean he was addicted to your taste. “Yes please” … “please what?” Lifting his thumb up from your clit. Your cheeks burned at what you were about to say “please daddy” you whined. His smirk couldn’t be more devilish as he dipped his head back down between your legs and sucking on your clit, adding two fingers curling them to push your g spot repeatedly. Your cunt squeezing his fingers as you came, his tongue licking up every last drop before pulling his fingers out of you.
He stared at you while bringing his finger to his mouth licking them clean “good girl” he praised getting up from your thighs and hovering over your face with his. Pulling his head down to your lips you kissed him deeply huffing air as you were still catching your breath. Once you pulled away you tried to push on his shoulders to get him onto his back but his arms stayed where they were beside your head keeping him up. “Do you want to keep going y/n?” He asked softly. “Mhm, get on your back please”
“Sure” he couldn’t help but chuckle. He took his tight black shirt off tossing it on the ground before getting on his back while your hands went to unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants before you tried pulling them off of him, he got them the rest of the way off leaving him just in his briefs. Putting his arms behind his head he watched your fingers coast along his abs then around his waistband before you palmed his cock making him groan. Freeing his cock his underwear you couldn’t help but stare at his size giving it a few pumps watching how it twitched desperately in your hand. Kissing his abs and sucking on a spot to leave a mark you got closer and closer to his cock bringing your lips to the tip and giving it a small peck. Getting his pre on your lips and licking it off.
His hand twisting softly in your hair as your mouth sank on his cock, your tongue licking up his shaft as your doe eyes stayed on him the whole time. He was losing it each second he watched his length disappear into your throat “f-fuck y/n” his other hand rubbed at the side of your hallowed cheek. You sucked gently on the tip pumping his cock a few more times before he grabbed your chin “I can’t take this anymore. I need to be inside sweetheart”
“Impatient” you cooed, straddling him and rubbing your cunt against his cock making him moan your name. He was cursing in his mind at how wet you were and being so close to finally having you. Your lips were sucking on his neck leaving sweet marks behind, the way he could feel your teeth graze his skin drove him insane.
“Mmm I am. Let me take things from here” he whispered into your ear. Sitting up against your headboard he helped turn you around making you have your back on his check. Looking up you saw yourself in the mirror making you put your hands over your face. “Is this why you have your mirror set up here? What a naughty thing. Don’t be all shy now, take your hands off your face and keep your eyes open look at where we connect” His breath was hot on your neck as he kept your legs spread open and hovering above his cock. “You ready?” He stared at your reflection, his tip resting at your dripping entrance.
“Yes!” You cried out as he bit at your collarbone. Lifting you up in his arms he bent his knees planting his feet on your bed. Lowering you slowly on his cock his eyes didn’t move from the reflection of your cunt stretching around him. Hearing you whine snapped him out of the trace the image had on him stopping from putting his cock in all the way “your vibrator didn’t get you ready for my size huh sweetheart” he teased, his thumb rubbing at your thigh trying to sooth the possible pain you may be experiencing.
“S-shut up and just fuck me” you furrowed your eyebrows at him, finally getting annoyed with his teasing. “You’ll pay for that later” he gritted his teeth, slamming you down on his cock. Your eyes went wide crying out his name, hands clawing at his thighs making him chuckle. “You can’t take me yet but don’t worry I’ll get you there” he said, kissing the back of your neck gently before tucking his chin into the crook of your collarbone and neck.
Toji’s eyes were glued to your cunt and how it kept sucking his cock in with each thrust, occasionally looking up at your face in the mirror to see your mouth agape, dragged out moans escaping your throat when he’d quicken his pace to only shove you down on him in one fast movement. “You feel so good sweetheart” he groaned. The knot in your stomach kept tightening with each thrust, his cock hitting your g spot repeatedly. “T-toji I h-have to cum please” you cried, throwing your head back into his shoulder. “If you keep clenching me like that I’ll cum too” he said in between pants.
His hand leaving one of your thighs and going to your clit circling his thumb around it while pumping into you. His thighs were flexed using both his strength from his legs and pushing you down onto him to set a new rhythm. Toji’s breath was hot against your ear as he breathed into it, his eyes rolling back into his head at the feeling of your cunt how beautifully it squeezed him. “A-ah fuck y-y/n let me fill you up. You are on the pill aren’t you. Shit” Toji slowed his pace, huffing out air he was getting extremely close. Thinking to himself he should’ve asked this way in advance, you wore a fucked out expression which drove him absolutely insane.
He watched as your eyes were now at your cunt watching his thumb circling your clit, cheeks flushed and hair a mess your mouth parted. He felt like he was sitting at the edge of his seat “I want you to fill me up Toji” your voice sounded so seductive the way your eyes were hooded, staring back at him in the mirror. He couldn’t help but grin picking his back back up, balls slapping against your ass, his thumb going at a faster pace and adding more pressure as the tip of his cock kissed your g spot. A few more thrusts and you two were done for, your moans combining into a sweet melody. White hot cum painted your walls as your cunt clenched around him milking Toji of all he had.
Continuing to fuck himself into you he just wanted to keep hearing you cry out his name along with daddy over and over again, a ring of your mixed juices remained on his cock as it twitched to life again inside. Your eyes went teary at the feeling, overstimulated but loving the feeling of fullness and warmth. He held you still on his cock panting against your neck before pulling your chin over to peck your lips softly. His arms wrapping around your body, your chest heaving to relax. “You never answered if you are on the pill” his voice sounded deeper than it usually is.
“I am-“ before you could finish your sentence he flipped you over onto your back. Hovering over you, you looked down seeing his cock still leaking cum, it made your cunt clench around nothing letting out a sigh. “Good, I want to fill you up a few more time then” his eyes hooded leaning down to kiss your lips, your arms wrapping around him with a simple “please daddy” escaping through the kisses.
He knew he was in trouble now. You were just as addicted to him as he was to the idea of you. No more bringing his friends over not until he got his full of you and could bare the idea of other men looking at you, no more going out not when you would be sitting alone at home and possibly playing with yourself instead of having him fuck you? No way he shook his head. Toji was never going to let you out of his grasp now.
-
Masterlist | Part 2 | if you enjoyed this fic you should check out my other Toji fics but recommending next: Fitness Trainer Toji | Headcanons for Toji Fic Thursday. Needy Toji
Authors notes: pls I wasn’t a virgin when I was 22 or loss it this way but shiiiet if I lost it this way to Toji I wouldn’t have complained about my first time 😮‍💨
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halsteadlover · 2 months
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𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐋𝐮𝐬𝐭
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*Pics not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Spencer Reid x Stripper!Reader.
• Requested: no.
• Summary: it was supposed to be a case like any other, an undercover operation like a thousand others he had done but when Spencer sets his eyes on that dancer for the first time suddenly everything fades into the background.
• Warnings: brief mention of alcohol, homicide case, nudity, fingering, oral sex (m. receiving), fingering, sex, use of condoms (ALWAYS WRAP IT!!!), cursing, dirty talk, basically Spencer being a ✨man✨, tell me if I missed anything <3
• Word count: 7.6K
• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE +18. This was written in 3rd person. I had this idea for a while now but didn’t know how to write it but now here we are you have no idea how much time it took 😭 I promise I’m still working on the requests please don’t hate me I’m just trying the find the motivation to write again. I really hope you like this one please let me know what you think and comment, reblog and like ❤️ Thank you for your kindness and constant support xx
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Spencer had never felt as uncomfortable as he did in that moment, surrounded by germs and all kinds of bodily fluids.
He was disgusted and couldn’t wait for this to be over soon so he could get out of there.
Damn you, Derek Morgan.
He cursed his colleague for forcing him to go in that damned place. He was in a strip club, pretending to be a normal customer so he could talk to some of the strippers and the head of the club himself about an investigation. The BAU was in fact following the case of a serial killer who lured his victims and killed them.
Since the victims – who were about four – were all affluent straight males in their thirties and there were no traces of drugs or signs on their bodies that they’d been forced to follow the killer, the team assumed the unsub was a female in her mid-twenties.
After digging into their pasts to study the victimology, the team discovered all four victims committed sexual crimes which however had somehow been attempted to be covered up. So there was no doubt those killings were about some sort of justice.
The unsub would kill them by slicing their throats with a single and precise movement, a cut so deep it was easy to say she was an expert. There was no way the four victims were her first ones, but nothing came up after Garcia searched for other murders with the same modus operandi.
After leaving their bodies on the bed of a hotel room, the unsub would also write a short note on the wall with a deep purple lipstick – a particular color – which wasn’t found on the victims’ bodies, so the team thought she wouldn’t wear it, she was carrying it with her with the sole purpose to write those simple short sentences.
The BAU had interrogated the victims of these aforementioned sexual assaults but all of them had airtight alibis so there was no real suspect. After interrogating the victims’ families and friends, they realized there was a common denominator between those four men: the Sinful Lust.
And that’s how Spencer ended up there.
He didn’t understand why it had to be him who had to be in that place. How could they think it’d be a good idea to have him to deal with strippers and people having sex around him?
Anyone could see from a mile away how uncomfortable he felt sitting there, even people who weren’t profilers. Spencer continued to look around, almost dazed by the club’s strobe lights as he tried to mask his disgust at noticing his surroundings and the intense smell of alcohol.
He never hated Derek so much.
He knew it was just his sadistic way of making him feel uncomfortable, despite the encouragement from the rest of the team though who were sure Spencer would make it.
His palms sweated with every passing second as he rubbed them on his black pants before fixing the collar of his shirt. He wasn’t used to wearing these kinds of clothes, he felt caged, in a body that didn’t belong to him.
Every woman in that place wasted no time winking at him, shooting him languid glances to which he responded with a tight and totally false smile. Some of them approached him and he had to fake interest in them by engaged stupid and languid conversations.
He couldn’t help but think about how Morgan would’ve enjoyed that situation and how he wouldn’t have wasted time making all the women in that damn club fall at his feet.
Spencer really envied him sometimes. He envied how his friend was always so easygoing and extroverted, especially with women, with a joke always ready, how he always knew what to say and when.
Suddenly the club lights dimmed and focused on the stage, stopping his rush of thoughts and indicating the strippers were about to begin the show.
Numerous tables and seats were concentrated near the stage, populated by hungry men who couldn’t wait to feast their eyes and spend their money and Spencer noted with disgust many of them were even married.
Poor wives.
Spencer let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding only to gasp again as some music started and the strippers began to dance. He didn’t recognize the music and the words, preferring classical music; however, his mind wasn’t focused on the bass vibrating through the room but on analyzing the scene.
But it was so damn hard when women danced sensually in front of him half naked. It’s a physiological reaction, he kept repeating to himself, it’s normal, focus Reid, do not deconcentrate.
The dim lights only added more tension to the evocative atmosphere, interrupted every now and then by men standing up and cheering to hand over their money they had probably earned with so much effort.
Spencer moved into his seat, picking up the glass of some type of liquor he didn’t know and pretending to sip before placing it back on the table, wanting with every fiber of his being for the unsub to reveal herself.
But he knew it couldn’t be that simple. If killers had written on their foreheads they were actually killers, he wouldn’t even have a job anymore.
He wondered if she was there.
Who knew if she had already chosen her next victim.
Spencer’s eyes met with one of the three dancers on the stage and a vice gripped his stomach when he realized she was already looking at him.
Her hips continued to move sensually to the rhythm of the music as her fingers played with the buttons of the skimpy top she was wearing and for an instant Spencer thought if he wasn’t mistaken or having a hallucination.
But he wasn’t wrong.
Her eyes were fixed solely on him.
She bit her lip as she winked at Spencer, and he almost melted into that chair like snow in the sun. He tried to keep his expression as casual and neutral as possible but in reality, every single cell in his body was on fire.
She turned her body and walked sensually towards the pole and Spencer’s eyes went hungrily and impertinently down her body, making him feel no less dirty than the rest of the men present.
But he couldn’t control himself as his eyes seemed to have a life on their own and he couldn’t take them off her.
His gaze traced every exposed inch of her skin, focusing on her ass covered by a skimpy short skirt, the mere sight of her making his pants tighten around his crotch. His mind began to wander with fantasy, unable to help but imagine his head buried between her legs.
Spencer shifted in his chair dejectedly, resting his hands on his lap and covering his erection as if someone was there to notice. Nobody would’ve noticed, all eyes were on her and the dancers.
He didn’t even look at the other two women on the stage, his eyes was fixed only on her, her hips, her beautiful and smooth legs, on her body that spun with disarming ease around the dance pole.
He wondered what it’d be like to feel his fingers squeezing her hips as she rode him into oblivion and this image alone almost made him come in his pants.
He was totally mesmerized.
He didn’t know what was happening to him but every cell in his body seemed to have lit up and inflamed, his fingers were trembling with desire to slide them over her sinuous body.
But it was when her eyes met his again that Spencer felt the air sucked out of his lungs. He couldn’t quite make out the color, he was too far away to be able to do that, but just the way she was looking at him made him shift in his seat again and his aching dick erect even more.
He was paralyzed, he didn’t dare move a single muscle. He didn’t know why but he was afraid if he moved everyone would find out who he really was. That she would find out.
His eyes never left hers, a small grin painting her face as she continued to dance sensually. Spencer felt arrogant enough to assume this dance was just for him.
The show eventually ended and the lights dimmed in the club again, although Spencer managed to track the silhouettes of the dancers coming off the stage. His heart jumped into his throat when he noticed a person approaching him and not just any person but her.
Spencer’s eyes followed her every movement although the light was so low he couldn’t really make out her beautiful features. He shifted in his chair again and tried to keep his concentration up when a cloud of her scent hit him square in the face, short-circuiting every single neuron in his brain.
This was the perfect opportunity to gather information regarding the case, but at that moment Spencer seemed to have completely forgotten the reason why he was there.
“Come with me.”
That was all she said and even her voice was so sweet it mesmerized him even more, as if it was a siren’s song luring the poor sailors into her clutches. He stood up without even being asked twice, his mind trying to convince itself it was just to gather the information he needed.
At that moment, however, the only thing controlling his body was the blood rushing to his penis and not the rationality that always distinguished him.
She walked through the club ignoring everything around her while he followed her like a puppy, unaware of what was coming and what she was up to. A small, tiny part of his brain kept screaming to be careful, that she was a stranger probably looking for the money – or worse to kill him. He knew he needed to focus on the case but Spencer was too attracted to her to even listen to those voices.
Nothing like this had ever happened before. He would’ve never thought of following a stranger to who knew where without an ounce of information.
They entered a room and Spencer quickly scanned it, deducing it was her dressing room. His attention, however, immediately returned to that woman. Under those lights, he could finally look at her in all her splendor and the air was sucked from his lungs as his eyes traveled along her body and analyzed her face.
She was breathtaking, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and there wasn’t a single part of him that wasn��t itching to touch her.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice broke the silence. Spencer didn’t respond at first, his eyes focused on her cleavage and the way her chest rose and fell. Only when he brought his eyes back to her face and saw the mischievous smirk on her lips he realized she had said something to him and that he must’ve looked like a complete idiot.
“What?”
She chuckled and that simple sound traveled through his body, causing his blood to rush and his penis to harden even more.
What is she doing to me?
She slightly tilted her head, her eyes vibrant as she watched – no, analyzed – Spencer.
His muscles froze as she took two steps toward him, never taking her eyes off him.
He returned her gaze with a courage he had never had and didn’t even know he possessed. Her eyes were bright but there was something particularly intense about them, something he absolutely wanted to discover and he couldn’t even name.
His breathing quickened and he prayed she wouldn’t realize how intense the effect she had on him was. She looked at him with an intensity that made him weak in the knees, with an intensity that no one had ever looked at him with.
She hadn’t torn her eyes away from his for not even a second, and although that confidence further intrigued Spencer, it scared him at the same time. He knew she was trying to get inside him, into his soul and discover his deepest secrets.
“I asked what you’re doing here.”
“You told me to come.”
She licked her lips and Spencer’s eyes flicked to her mouth, causing him to react in a way that resulted in the further restriction of his pants. He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets to avoid doing something he’d regret, but damn it was so hard.
This was also the moment he understood the true meaning of the phrase ‘blue balls’.
He was so fucking horny it hurt.
“I’m well aware of that,” she replied with a smirk, probably noticing the way he was staring at her lips. “But don’t act stupid, you don’t look like one. What are you doing here?”
Spencer swallowed the lump in his throat, using the shred of rationality he had left to think of an answer. But the way she was looking at him, as if she wanted him to take her right then and now, was enough to make him no longer even remember his name.
I’m an FBI agent investigating a murder case and you, like every other dancer here, could be a potential suspect.
He couldn’t say it, but damn it if she kept coming closer to him, he wouldn’t even bother giving her his wallet and bank details.
“What all the men are doing, why don’t you go ask them?”
Well done.
“I’m asking you.” She flicked her hair behind her shoulders with a single but graceful movement of her head, leaving her neck and shoulder exposed. Spencer’s throat bobbed up and down again, his mind filled with images of him sticking his tongue out and licking and tasting her skin, sucking it and leaving marks.
Dammit Reid, get a hold of yourself.
“I’ve been watching you,” she spoke, her tone calm and sensual. “You looked like you were going to vomit when you came in and I know you would’ve never come here of your own free will; so why don’t you tell me the truth pretty boy?”
Fuck yeah keep calling me that.
Why doesn’t it sound so good when Morgan calls me that?
Stop thinking about Morgan.
“There’s a first time for everyone, don’t you think?” Spencer raised an eyebrow.
She bit her lower lip, a gesture that made him feral.
Please somebody help me.
It was only then she took her eyes away from his and let them wander slowly along his body.
She studied and analyzed him and with every inch that passed under her eyes Spencer felt his skin catch fire, especially when her gaze focused on the huge bulge in his pants.
The beautiful stranger brought her eyes back to his and Spencer didn’t miss that lustful glint in them and the way her breathing had quickened, indicating she was as affected by him as he was by her.
“What’s your name?”
“David,” Spencer replied, congratulating himself on the way he had managed to control himself and not give away his real name.
“David,” she repeated, slowly, as if wanting to taste what his name felt like on her tongue. She took another step, closing her distance and her scent hit his nostrils. It was a mixture of vanilla, coconut, innocence and sin and he was going crazy.
“I’ll pretend you don’t think I’m that stupid, David,” she winked and Spencer swallowed the lump in his throat for the third time, trying to keep his breathing to a normal pace even though his heart was pounding wildly inside his rib cage.
They continued to look at each other for an almost infinite time, the air more tense and warmer with each passing second. Spencer tried to think of something to say, anything, but the way she looked at him paralyzed him. His eyes roamed and traced the lines of her lips imagining what it’d be like to feel them pressed against his, what it’d be like to feel them wrapped around his dick and just the thought almost made him come in his pants.
I can’t do this anymore.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, her voice so low he almost didn’t hear her. Spencer had the impression she wanted to say anything else, but she had refrained from doing it, like if she had opened her tightly closed lips she would’ve told a terrible secret.
“I’m exactly where I want to be,” he replied, taking his hand out of his pocket and bringing it closer to her face. His fingers played with a lock of her hair before tucking it behind her ear. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing, it was as if his body was acting on its own and had completely disconnected from his brain. Her breathing quickened at that contact and that time he was the one to smirk. “What’s your name?”
“It doesn’t matter. You didn’t tell me yours.”
“It matters to me. And I did, it’s up to you to believe me or not.”
She cocked one eyebrow up. “Why does it matter?”
“I want to know whose name I’m going to moan when I’ll think of you with my hand around my dick.”
Spencer almost chocked on his own words.
What the fuck?
Again, what the hell is wrong with me?
What was he doing? What was going through his mind? He completely lost his mind but he didn’t care, not when she looked at him like she wanted to tear him apart and burn him right then and there. And the worst thing was that he probably would’ve let her do it without objecting.
He could see the way she was holding back, the way she tried to appear casual but after all it was his job to know what people really felt, what they thought. He knew it from the way her pupils were so dilated they covered almost all the color of his irises, from the way her skin was flushed and the redness on her cheeks, from the light layer of sweat covering her forehead, from her rapid breathing, the stiffness of her muscles, from the way her hands clenched into two fists as if she was leveraging on herself to not let go.
But why?
Spencer wasn’t an expert in that world, but he really thought she’d try in any way to get some money, to seduce him and then leave him broke, but then why did she hold back? Why was she rejecting him? Why did she ask him to come with her if she wasn’t trying to do anything?
In other moments he would’ve investigated more but in that instant everything had taken a step backwards, Spencer didn’t seem to be focused on anything other than putting his hands on that stranger who was hypnotizing and bewitching like no one else ever did. He had never felt anything like this, being consumed by the desire to kiss her, touch her, run his tongue over every inch of her body, he never felt that raw and primordial desire to have someone.
And he wanted her.
Fuck the consequences.
“You don’t really want this,” she whispered and it didn’t take a profiler to figure out that she wasn’t sure of those words either. It was Spencer who closed the distance between the two that time, feeling the heat of her body envelop him and attracting him like a moth to flame, as every part of her skin was screaming to be touched by his fingers. Her words repelled him but the way she looked at him said something else.
“Why did you ask me to come here then?”
Her eyes looked at him with a look that even him couldn’t decipher. She was hiding something, she was battling herself and he wanted to know why.
“You don’t belong in this place.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I don’t know…” she whispered as her gaze kept alternating between his eyes and his mouth. He wet them with his tongue, pleased when he saw the way her breath hitched.
“I just couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”
Spencer may not be very experienced in the women’s game, but he could see the passionate hunger in her eyes, that glimmer of lust and desire that left him breathless.
“Do you want it?”
“Yes.”
Those two single whispered letters were enough for Spencer to destroy what little shred of control he still possessed. Before he knew it his hands were cupping her face and his lips were pressed to hers in a searing, electrifying kiss.
He didn’t know what was wrong with him, he couldn’t even recognize himself at that moment. As her mouth devoured him and her tongue tasted his, he couldn’t let go of the feeling he was watching everything as if he was an outside observer, like he wasn’t the one commanding his actions.
He couldn’t believe what was happening, that he – the man who was terrified of even shaking hands with strangers for fear of germs – was kissing that beautiful, sexy stranger who had invaded his senses ever since she set her feet on that stage. And to be honest he didn’t even care, Spencer was only focused on the world in which she was devouring him.
Their tongues intertwined in a sensual dance as their deep breaths and sighs blended into each other. There was nothing sweet about that kiss, about the way he fisted his hands around her hair, the way she had her arms around his neck and pulled him towards her, the saliva mixing. It was animalistic, raw, sloppy, messy, a kiss so deep they felt their soul being sucked out of their body.
The tension and electricity in the air was clearly palpable as time seemed to stop around them, leaving them engulfed in the fire of passion and making them both forget who and where they were.
While Spencer’s hands roamed along her body, squeezing and groping every inch of her skin he could reach, sucking in and swallowing every sigh that escaped her throat, he no longer thought he was an FBI agent who was there because he had a job to do.
And even his name was forgotten as her fingers began frantically unbuttoning his shirt, her fingertips leaving fiery marks on his skin as they slid down his chest. They both began taking slow steps, their mouths continuing to devour each other and only breaking away when Spencer’s legs touched the sofa in the dressing room. He sat with his legs apart and a very painful erection in his pants, his gaze on fire while his hungry eyes analyzed and looked with meticulous attention at the stranger.
Never more than in that moment was he grateful to his eidetic memory, because he knew he would never forget that divine image in front of his eyes. Her breasts, legs, hips, her waist, everything seemed to scream to be touched and worshiped and Spencer couldn’t wait to do it.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered more to himself than to her, his hands resting on his thighs as he continued to let his gaze wander down her body.
She smiled and Spencer almost fainted. And it wasn’t a mischievous grin but a real smile, one of those that weakened the knees and made everything more beautiful and brighter. One of those he’d never forget.
He took her hands and pulled her towards him making her sit on his lap, her legs tightly straddling his thighs. He groaned as his hard dick collided with her core, relieving that feeling of pressure and pain even if for just a few seconds.
Before he could say or do anything she had pressed her lips on his again, starting to sensually move on him, shamelessly grinding herself and unleashing obscene sighs from both of them that sounded like they were coming from a porn.
Spencer’s hands cupped her ass, pressing his fingers so hard into her skin as he followed her movements while her hands instead continued to roam his chest, her nails pressing into his skin until she leaves red marks on it.
“Fuck I want you so bad,” she breathed into his lips and he let out a particularly loud groan when she bit his bottom lip, sucking it. Her lips parted from his, leaving wet kisses along his jaw, down his neck, sucking, biting, nibbling at his skin.
Any trace of whatever indecision she felt was gone and he couldn’t control himself anymore. His body seemed to move automatically. Lust and desire had clouded his mind, that sublime mind that had done everything to prevent these moments from happening but that had given into the most primitive of instincts. Sex.
His hands went up to the skimpy top she was wearing, ripping it off without even thinking twice before dropping the broken material on the floor, soon joined by her bra as well. His hands cupped her breasts, teasing and pinching her turgid nipples that so recalled his mouth.
Spencer obeyed that wish, wrapping his lips around one of her breasts sucking it while he continued to grope the other. Her hands threaded through his hair, curling into fists and pulling, causing another groan from Spencer. He didn’t even know he was into this. His hips jerked up, continuing to grind against her for some relief.
“Please…” He let go of her breast, throwing his head back and fearing he’d explode right then and there. He wanted to know that stranger’s name, he desperately wanted to moan it and he equally desperately wanted to tell her his, just so he could hear it screamed by her beautiful mouth as he fucked her. “I’ll come in my pants if you keep doing this.”
She giggled and this was a further shock to Spencer, who thought he was going to have a heart attack at any moment. Her hands fumbled with his belt, undoing the button and pulling down the zip of his pants. He let out a sigh of relief when, after slightly lifting his hips, she lowered his pants along with his precum stained boxers, finally releasing his erection.
“Shit…” he hissed a curse through gritted teeth as her hand wrapped around his dick. It started to move up and down with it and he closed his parted lips as he tried to suppress his moans. His eyes were glued on that stranger’s hand who gave him pleasure, a vision he’d never forget. Her hand was so delicate and perfect, in stark contrast to the sinful and dirty action she was doing.
“Don’t hold back, I want to hear you moan for me, okay?”
Spencer met her gaze and nodded, not trusting his own voice. She lifted herself from his lap and knelt between his spread legs and if Spencer hadn’t already been sitting down, the mere image of her on her knees with her hand wrapped around his dick would’ve made him fall to the ground.
“Is this okay?” She asked and Spencer found himself nodding again, this time with so much enthusiasm that she chuckled.
“Yes please…” he breathed as she continued to masturbate him, alternating fast and slow movements and making him lose his mind even more, if that was even possible. Her thumb drew imaginary circles on his red, wet tip, making him gasp against his will.
He placed a hand on her cheek, her skin hot against his palm, his thumb caressing her lips. His breath hitched in anticipation when she wrapped her lips around his thumb, her eyes never leaving Spencer’s as she sucked on his fingertip. “I’m dying to have this pretty mouth around my dick, do you want to show me what it can do?”
Spencer had no clue where this confidence was coming from, but he was too horny to think about shyness and what to say.
She let go of his thumb and stuck her tongue out before tracing the shaft of his penis with a single, excruciatingly slow lick from the base to his tip. He let out a deep, loud groan, throwing his head back as he felt his silky skin against her tongue. It was an aphrodisiac sensation and if Spencer was to believe in heaven and an afterlife, her mouth would definitely be his.
“Shit just like that,” he moaned as her tongue drew imaginary circles on his tip, sucking and taking away every trace of precum. His soul nearly left his body when she encircled his tip with her lips, sliding his length into her mouth until his dick hit the back of her throat.
She placed a hand on his bare, hairy thighs, dragging her nails across his skin as if to draw his attention to her and Spencer granted her wish, lifting his head and looking down at that sin dressed as an angel who was sucking his dick.
Fucking hell I don’t even believe in angels.
It was immoral, the most unethical thing he could’ve done, something for which he could’ve even be kicked out of the team but Spencer couldn’t care less, not when that mouth was sucking him like her life depended on it and making him feel a pleasure he couldn’t even think was possible to feel.
“You’re so good little angel,” he praised her, placing a hand on her head threading his fingers through her hair and a little spark lit up in her eyes. She definitely had a praise kink. “This mouth will be the death of me.”
She hollowed her cheeks, picking up the pace as her head bobbed up and down and her tongue licked circling his dick. Spencer felt like he was already one step away from exploding in her mouth, but he didn’t want to come, not before being buried deep inside her. “Dammit… Stop, stop, I don’t want to come yet.”
He cupped her face pressing his lips to her swollen, wet ones while simultaneously pulling her on his lap again. He kissed her as if he wanted to suck her soul out of her body, resting his hands on her smooth, bare thighs as his fingers pressed into her skin, teasing her but never touching that magical spot where Spencer couldn’t wait to sink.
“For fuck’s sake touch me,” she hissed impatiently pulling on the young man’s hair, earning a small grin from him.
“Tell me how much you want it,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her neck, inhaling deeply that scent he knew would torment him for the rest of his life, that scent that drugged and marked him in the span of very few seconds. His thumbs kept drawing circles on her inner thighs, dangerously close to her pussy as she squirmed under his touch and Spencer was loving every single shred of the desperation she showed.
She wanted him.
She wanted him desperately.
Spencer never had someone who wanted him so badly, sure he had his experiences with women – albeit very limited ones – but he had never felt anything so deep, animalistic and visceral. He had never had any woman looking at him with that fire in her eyes, as if he was the only man who existed for her, as if he was everything she wanted, as if she could die at any moment if he didn’t give it to her.
But that stranger did.
And damn it felt so good.
“Please, I want it… I want you…” she cried out in an impatient and desperation tone and that was music to his ears. If there was some divine entity Spencer thanked it for making her wear a miniskirt.
His fingers slipped into her panties, moaning to himself as he felt the amount of fluids wetting her pussy. “So wet… You’re going to kill me, you know that right?”
She didn’t answer, she threw her head back while Spencer looked at her with hooded eyes and one of his fingers wasted no time in penetrating her. Her hips moved in rhythm and he trembled with anticipation, imagining her walls squeezing his dick.
“Fuck yes…” she moaned loudly, her hands in Spencer’s hair as he inserted a second finger inside her, watching her reaction and how her body writhed in pleasure.
“You’re so tight little angel, I can’t wait to be buried deep inside this wet pussy,” he murmured with pleasure before taking one of her breasts into his mouth, too temptingly as he sucked and licked it. His other arm went around her hips, holding her in place and keeping her from squirming away. “How many of them did you let fuck you mmh? How many have made you feel this way?” He licked her chest, her collarbone, every inch of skin he could reach before he began torturing her other breast.
“No one…” she breathed, unable to finish her sentence due to her heavy panting and moaning. Her thighs were shaking, her hands gripping his hair. “Nobody… Holy shit…” She trailed off again, her body contorting forward if it wasn’t for Spencer’s arm holding her and he knew his fingers had hit her G-spot.
He actually had no idea what he was doing or how to move but he was an attentive observer. His eyes glued to her studied with careful attention every single breath, the intensity of her moans, the way her muscles trembled, the way her pussy clenched, the way she held him, studying her body and quickly adapting to her reaction.
“Oh God yes, yes, you’re so fucking good keep going…” she cried out and then looked down at him. Her thumb traced his lips and – just as she had done earlier – he wrapped them around her finger, sucking on it as his fingers continued to pump in and out of her. Her walls clenched his wet fingers and if the vision of her coming over them didn’t make him lose his sanity, then he didn’t know what else would.
Spencer left her no room to catch her breath or strength after her orgasm.
“Open.” He ordered, bringing his fingers that until a few moments before were inside her, close to her lips. She didn’t hesitate to lick Spencer’s wet fingers clean, making him dizzy as her eyes watched with adulation and lust at the way his tongue sensually moved her fluids. “Yeah little angel, just like that.”
He was going crazy. He seriously thought his vessels were going to explode from how horny he was.
She let go of his fingers and sloppily kissed him, making him taste her juices on her tongue. “Fuck what are doing to me…” She whispered and something told Spencer she didn’t mean to say those words out loud.
“If you think I’m anywhere near done with you, you’re completely wrong,” he murmured against her lips. “Show me how a good girl you are and sit on me, let me see how this pretty pussy soaks my dick.”
Good job Dr Reid.
I’m really proud of myself.
“And here I thought you were a virgin,” she chuckled before getting up and taking a condom from one of the drawers in her closet, but not before taking off her panties. She settled down by straddling his thighs again before slipping the condom onto his painfully hard dick. She lifted her pelvis and wrapped her hand around Spencer’s dick, letting herself be penetrated until she found herself completely sitting on it. “But I know behind this cute pretty face you’re so dirty, filthy enough to fuck a stripper whose name you don’t even know.”
Spencer clung to every ounce of strength in his body to concentrate on anything other than the warm, wet walls of that stranger’s pussy or he would’ve come instantly.
He had even forgotten how good it felt to have sex after so long and remembered why people were so obsessed with it, why his team pestered him to get laid.
Her pussy engulfed him so perfectly it seemed to have been made just for him.
“You feel so good god…” she breathed out a moan interrupting her sentence as she slowly raised her hips and lowered herself again. Spencer couldn’t control a deep groan as she continued to tease and torture him with that slow motion, rolling her hips on his dick.
Spencer’s fingers found themselves on her ass for the second time, groping and spreading her ass cheeks trying to maintain control but it was so damn hard when all he wanted to do was fuck her brains out of her head.
“F-faster… You’re torturing me…” he panted brokenly, his chest quickly rising and falling as if he was running a marathon.
Instead, she kept going with her slow, destabilizing pace, lifting her hips again and slowly lowering herself on his raging dick, torturing him further as the sounds she let out filled the room. Those alone would’ve been enough to make him fall into the void and never be able to get back to the surface.
“Beg me.”
“Please, please… Make me feel good little angel, make me come,” he obeyed, not caring about sounding pathetic. The smirk that formed on her lips was the manifestation of the most pure form of sin, a sin for which there was no absolution or redemption.
Luckily Spencer didn’t even believe in these things.
But if there was a definition of heaven and hell, if they ever existed, it would’ve been her.
Her and those eyes that looked at him like they wanted to capture what was left of his soul, those eyes that would’ve made Spencer thrown himself off a cliff if she had asked.
Her and those hands that held him and touched him, causing him sensations he didn’t even know the meaning of, and this said something for a person who knew the meaning of every single word written in the dictionary.
Her and her deadly mouth that continued to kiss him until there was no air left in his lungs, her teeth biting him, her tongue licking his skin and sucking his tongue.
Her and those moans and gasps she couldn’t hold back and that Spencer was absorbing one by one, imprinting them in his memory so he could repeat them again and again.
“Look at you, aren’t you a desperate little thing? So hungry for me,” she sensually whispered in his ear and biting his earlobe. Fulfilling Spencer’s wishes, she began to increase her pace, placing her hands on the back of the couch for support.
Nothing resounded except their moans, pants, grunts mixing with each other, the sound of their skin rubbing and flapping and their lips smacking with each kiss with the smell of sex, sin and prohibition filling their nostrils.
Spencer’s eyes were glued on her, on her parted lips and her head thrown back, her eyes half closed, her tits bouncing in rhythm with her thrusts which he didn’t waste time taking into his mouth and sucking them, biting the nipples until they were numb.
She fisted Spencer’s hair again, pulling it and forcing him to tilt his head back to look at her. That gesture made him grunt and aroused him even more than he already was, and his hips twitched against her, giving a particularly deep thrust that made her curse.
“I can see how you’re holding back pretty boy,” she sighed, continuing to ride him but slowing her pace this time causing a pathetic cry to escape his lips. She kept brushing her lips against his without kissing him, with the sole aim of torturing him and driving him crazy. As if she hadn’t already done it. “Don’t hold back, I can see how much you want to ruin me, how much you’re dying to destroy me.”
“Fuck.” He cursed and something snapped inside him.
He thrusted his hips so deep into her she choked out a moan and he was sure she felt it in every corner of her pussy. His long fingers continued to press into the red, heated flesh of her ass holding her still while he jerked his hips forcefully, taking command even though she was still on top of him.
His dick kept pushing in and out of her, engulfed by her pussy as it tightened around him. Spencer knew how fundamental the importance of using protection was, especially with strangers, but he wished he didn’t wear that damn condom so much, so he could feel every wet corner of her around his dick.
“Oh fuck yes… Just like that,” she loudly moaned and he was sure that by now everyone had heard what was going on in that dressing room but had chosen to ignore it.
Spencer didn’t know how much longer he could hold on. He needed to come but he didn’t want to, he didn’t want this to end.
That’s why he made her get up off him, earning a confused expression before flipping her onto that couch and laying on top of her. He opened her legs and positioned himself between them. He left her no room to say anything as he aligned his dick with her entrance, penetrating her in one motion.
Her legs encircled his hips, her heels pressed against his skin as he fucked her on that couch like his life depended on it, with hard, deep thrusts that made her eyes water.
He had completely lost control.
His hand went around her throat, a gesture that happened spontaneously and that Spencer didn’t even realize until he saw the smirk and expression of pure ecstasy on her face.
How long has he been into choking?
That damn woman would be his downfall.
“Is this what you wanted?” he groaned, his fingers tightening sideways around her throat, being careful not to press on her windpipe. Some strands of hair fell in front of his eyes but she removed them, almost making him faint at that sweet gesture, in stark contrast to the animalistic way in which they were fucking.
“I knew there was a little devil inside you pretty boy, God you’re so fucking sexy,” she gasped, biting hit lower lips and making him increase his pace. “Yes, yes, yes I’m going to come… Keep going fuck yeah…”
His thrusts were deep, messy and although he tried to keep himself from coming, wanting to prolong that feeling of ecstasy as long as possible, it was impossible as her pussy kept clenching around him, moaning “I’m coming” in his ear so sexily it made him come. Spencer exploded and with one last thrust he let himself go into a mind-blowing orgasm that made his body tremble and his eyes blind for a few moments as he poured all his sperm inside the condom.
There were a few moments of silence, broken only by the panting and deep breathing of the two as they caught their breath.
After the ecstasy of the orgasm, Spencer stood up, noticing out of the corner of his eye that she too was trying to get up but her still shaking legs prevented her from doing so. He tried to hold back a smirk, giving her a hand and helping her to get on her feet before earning a feeble “Thank you.”
What the fuck did I just do?
I just had sex with a stripper who could be a potential witness/suspect while undercover.
I’m so screwed.
He realized the enormous mistake he had just made, not even imagining the consequences. He thanked no one in particular for not having worn the microphone or, holy shit, that would’ve been difficult to explain.
Spencer didn’t say a word and he was grateful that she didn’t either, too dazed and groggy to be able to face a conversation.
They both cleaned up in silence and after throwing the condom in the bin, Spencer tried to tidy himself up, tucking his shirt into his pants after buttoning it.
His profiler nature, however, couldn’t help but notice the way how her demeanor completely changed, going from that sexy vicious woman to a silent shy one. She hadn’t so much as glanced at him, he noticed how her shoulders were tense while she moved frantically as if she was trying to vanish from that dressing room as quickly as possible.
She was nervous.
But why?
“You still haven’t answered my initial question, you know?” Spencer broke the awkward silence, before he could stop his tongue.
Damn it Reid why do you want to complicate things so badly?
She turned her head towards him, looking at him with a confused expression trying to make up her mind.
But then a small smile spread across her features before she closed her backpack and placed it on her shoulder. “No one’s been lucky enough to get in here,” she replied, effectively giving the answer Spencer was looking for and for some strange and absurd reason he believed her. “Or unlucky, depending on your point of view.”
Before he could answer she gave him one last glance and left the dressing room. He was supposed to be relieved, there would be no question he couldn’t answer – especially after she realized David wasn’t his real name – but for some reason he couldn’t let go that sinking feeling in his stomach.
He was good at analyzing other people’s emotions, every facet and change of expression, but he wasn’t as good with himself.
He was tempted to follow her, at least to know her name, to find out who the woman who had fried his brain was, but before going out he noticed a small object near the door, probably fallen from her backpack before she went out.
He knelt to pick it up from the ground, but his blood froze in his veins and his heart stopped beating for a millisecond when he realized what the object was.
It was a purple lipstick.
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777gojosgf · 6 months
Text
MY LOVE IS MINE ALL MINE…
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777GOJOSGF IS TYPING…
777gojosgf: gf!reader x hurt/tired!satorugojo
IN WHERE ::
satoru gojo comes home after a long day at work absolutely tired and bruised, seeking comfort in your arms.
WORD COUNT: 0.8K
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THE DOOR CLICKED SHUT and you could hear him taking off his shoes. it was another late night when you tried to stay awake to welcome your boyfriend home, but you were yet again unable to keep your eyes open.
he found you curled up on the couch with a blanket over you, but you had woken up by the sound of the door closing and you immediately rushed to his side. “hi, my love—“ you stopped in the middle of your sentence when you saw the unmistakable hurt expression on his face.
something was wrong.
your hands cautiously reached for his face, cupping it. he subconsciously leaned into your right hand, his eyes failing to meet yours and you were immediately able to figure out why. he didn’t want you to see him like this. as if he was weak, as if he had failed.
you said, "hey," in a gentle tone that made him feel calm and at ease. the terrible headache had begun as soon as he made his way to your shared apartment. he was unable to stop thinking about his late best friend's final moments as they continued to play back in his mind. this caused his thoughts to stray and consider the risk he was putting you in simply because you were his girlfriend. he feared he might end up being a burden for you.
“you’re alright now. are you willing to talk about it?” you had secretly hoped that he would agree to talk since you were so curious about what was going through his mind, though it wasn't a hard guess.
however, he mumbled a quiet no, and with that, you nodded courteously and took his hand in yours. guiding him to the bathroom where you pointed at the counter for him to sit. without a second thought, he obeyed your command and took a seat. the much taller and much more powerful man had suddenly seemed so fragile. so, tired.
you took out the first aid kit from one of the cabinets and set it down beside him. after opening the kit, you took out some patches and rubbing alcohol. his head was cocked to the side to reveal the cut as your hand gently made contact with his jaw. considering that he possessed the infinity technique, it was peculiar for him to return home hurt. and if not, he had the option of visiting shoko to receive healing without the need for any ordinary medical attention.
you had no idea that gojo's only desire was to be cared for and to feel your touch.
before applying the rubbing alcohol-soaked patch to his face, you gave him a heads-up saying "this might sting a little." gojo did not make any movement. rather, his hand reached for your hand that was set on his jaw.
once you finished stitching him up, you gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. he pouted at that and pointed to his lips, earning him a soft laugh from you. you took a step forward and delicately kissed him, your arms around his neck. you leaned backwards, your eyes finding his.
"how about you take a shower and we'll call it a night?" you propositioned, your head tilting to the side and a soft smile was displayed on your face.
"are you saying that i smell?"
your eyes widened at that and you jokingly slapped his arm. "no, you idiot. i'm saying that a shower will help you relax and then we'll go to sleep. i know you're not ready to tell me what happened, so we can just wait until tomorrow. you need some rest."
and in this exact moment, gojo realized that he didn't know what he did to deserve you.
he didn't have to pretend around you. he didn't have to put on the act of making silly jokes and pretending to be fine just because he was the strongest.
no. with you, he was 'toru.
your 'toru.
after his shower, you both found your way to your shared bed. he held you so close to him, but you didn't complain. you couldn't. it was the only way gojo was sure that nothing would happen to you once he closed his eyes, and even so, he still tried to look out for you with his senses.
"hey, y/n." satoru said, loud enough for you to hear but also to soothe you to sleep. "yes?"
"would you still love me if i was a frog and there was no way i could turn into a human?"
usually, you would've rolled your eyes at his silly nighttime questions and told him to go to sleep. but this time, you knew that he needed you to answer. because this wasn't just a silly question. no, he was indirectly asking you if you aren't tired of him.
"i would love you. and in every other universe, i would find my way to you and kiss you once more."
"i love you."
"i love you too. now, rest."
618 notes · View notes
lixiepixiedust · 3 months
Text
I wanna show you off
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pairing — idol!jeongin x f!reader (From the Unveiling Love series!)
word count — 5k
warnings — she/her reader, argument, hurt/comfort, exes (?) 2 lovers, jeongin is kinda toxic in a way but only slightly, suggestive themes (making out), reader is drunk, mentions of alcohol and night clubs, unwanted advances towards reader (not from jeongin)
summary — you and jeongin broke up after many arguments about how secret your relationship was. when you find yourself alone and uncomfortable at a club, jeongin comes to your rescue.
Inside the dance practice room, the tension between you and Jeongin was palpable. The air crackled with unspoken words, each movement echoing the silent storm brewing between you.
Jeongin's frustration boiled over, his voice piercing through the air like a knife. "Why do you always have to push me like this?!" he screamed, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
You shot back, your own voice rising to match his intensity. "I'm tired of pretending like we're just friends when we're not! I want us to be open about us, about what we have!"
His eyes flashed with anger as he stepped closer, his breath hot against your face. "You know why we can't do that! My career, my image, everything will be ruined if they find out about us!"
"I'm not asking you to shout it to the world or to all your fans, Jeongin! But can't you at least acknowledge us when we're with close friends? You won't even let me meet your own members," you pleaded, your voice tinged with hurt and frustration.
Jeongin's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with defiance. "You know it's not that simple. Our group's dynamic—it's delicate."
"Well, what about me? What about how I feel?" you countered, feeling the tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. "I'm tired of knowing I'm not good enough to be shown off!"
Tears streamed down your cheeks, your heart aching. As he paced back and forth, his frustration palpable in the air.
When he finally spoke, his voice was still thick with anger, his words cutting through the air like shards of glass. "We can't do this anymore," he said, his tone final and resolute.
Your heart sank like a stone as his words echoed in the empty room. "What do you mean?" you whispered, your voice trembling with disbelief.
"Us. We're not meant to be together, not like this."
The pain in his words was like a physical blow, knocking the breath from your lungs as you struggled to comprehend what he was saying. "But… but I love you," you choked out, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.
He shook his head, "I'm sorry."
And with those final words, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the empty room, your heart shattered into a million irreparable pieces.
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Jeongin knew he was going to finish work late that day. He was filming a music video which was specifically designed for a nighttime setting, which explained the extended working hours. As the filming progressed, each frame meticulously captured, Jeongin's anticipation grew for work to be over. When the time arrived, he eagerly checked his phone, expecting a text from you. However, to no surprise, he was still left with nothing. A furrow formed on his brow as frustration settled in.
He knew he shouldn't be doing this, yet he found himself yearning for your touch, your presence. After all, he had been the one to break things off, and it seemed unreasonable to expect you to reach out. He could still replay each word you said that night. All he wanted now was to hold you close, to reassure you that you were more than enough, that all he ever wanted to do was to protect you.
In the quiet moments of the night, he found himself grappling with the truth he had been avoiding: that despite his attempts to move on, he still loved you, still needed you in ways he couldn't admit even to himself.
He discreetly went to check your location, like he was committing a crime. To his surprise, he learned that you were currently at Hallyu, the most prestigious club in Gangnam favored by the wealthy, including his idol friends. Everyone knew that Hallyu held a reputation for discreet happenings, scandals, unspoken to the public. Whatever happens in Hallyu stays in Hallyu — or within the idols in general.
Going to Hallyu was a good way to unwind after a demanding comeback and promotional activities. Hallyu gets the busiest during the yearly break that most idols get, a time when companies are occupied with contract negotiations. This break becomes crucial for idols to rest, leaving the workload in the hands of their management departments.
What's interesting is that fans haven't realized that these are the only few weeks in the year with fewer comebacks, since everyone is on break. This trend usually happens around spring. During this time, new songs only come from smaller groups who are trying get noticed in the industry and earn revenue.
Jeongin ran a hand through his damp hair, his brows knit in concern. The unusual sight of you at Hallyu without him triggered a sense of worry. You had never ventured there without his company, and considering the strict entry policies, it puzzled him. The bouncers typically ensured you entered only in the presence of someone who was at least a little famous.
His mind raced through various scenarios—was there someone else with you? Perhaps an idol, an actor, or an obnoxiously rich man? He thought about it for a while. Surely you weren’t that poor yourself. Your family was fairly wealthy and your well-paying job provided a comfortable life for you. Yet, the thought of you gaining entry to Hallyu alone or with your everyday college friends seemed highly unlikely, as the club prioritized popularity over financial status. Lost in thought, Jeongin dedicated a considerable minute to pondering these perplexities, his gaze fixed on his phone screen.
"Jeongin," Hyunjin's voice called, pulling him from his contemplation. "You alright? You seem upset."
"No, um," he cleared his throat, still fixated on your icon on his phone screen. "I'm fine, just, um," he stammered. "Wanna go to Hallyu?" The question slipped out suddenly, and he shifted his gaze towards Hyunjin.
Hyunjin's eyes widened with a big smile, and Jeongin couldn't help but know exactly why he was so happy. Hyunjin had been begging for someone to join him at Hallyu. He’s always been quite a party animal. "Yes," he responded almost immediately. "Our hair already looks nice, and we're wearing…" Hyunjin eyed both of them, still clad in outfits from the music video shoot, not the most suitable attire for the club. "I'm sure we can find something hanging on the racks."
And indeed, Hyunjin was right. The stylist had left a few options for them. Jeongin, wanting to make a good impression, chose a clean white dress shirt that was unbuttoned down his chest. His hair had been professionally styled by the staff a few hours earlier, giving it a polished look. Jeongin couldn't help but notice your love for his growing-out hair—your tendency to run your fingers through it while cuddling and the smiles you had on your face when you made makeshift ponytails with his hair.
As he looked at himself in the mirror, a content smile crossed Jeongin's face. These efforts extended beyond just preparing for the club; they were a subtle declaration of his affection for you. Each choice, from the outfit to the hairstyle, was a deliberate attempt to present himself in a way that he knew would resonate with your taste and bring a smile to your face.
Hyunjin was prepared and looked exceptionally beautiful, as always. He carried a sultry vibe to him, enhanced by subtle details like the extra red on his lips and the fifty pounds of exquisite jewelry he made sure to put on.
As they prepared to head towards the car, Seungmin walked up from behind them, curiosity etched on his face. "Where are you two going?" he inquired. "The club," Hyunjin replied. "Alright, I'm coming with you," Seungmin decided. Jeongin gave a nod and a smile, patting Seungmin's shoulder gently before proceeding into the car. He also took charge of steering them to their destination.
"So Jeongin," Hyunjin questioned and leaned forward to the passenger seat where Jeongin was sitting. "Why the sudden change? You've always turned down the club."
Jeongin, with a casual shrug, replied, "Oh, I just haven't gone out in a while, you know? Figured tonight's the night."
Hyunjin furrowed his eyebrows, detecting a hint of something unusual in Jeongin's tone. His suspicion grew, and his lips formed a pout. "Something's off," he thought.
Brushing off his concerns for the moment, Hyunjin turned to Seungmin. "And what about you? Why the sudden interest in going out tonight?" he asked.
Seungmin smirked and looked at the rear-view mirror. "Well, Jeongin's going, so why not join in the fun?"
Hyunjin raised an eyebrow at Seungmin's response, fake offense crossing his features. "So, what you're saying is you only wanted to go because Jeongin's going? I see how it is. Making me feel a bit left out, are we?" he quipped.
Seungmin chuckled. "Well, you know, Jeongin's got that charm."
"I'm offended, but y'know Jeongin asked me first." Hyunjin teased.
"Oh, by the way, wanna know something funny?" Seungmin suddenly mentioned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. With a sly grin, he began, "So, last weekend, I went to another club with this girl. Worst decision ever. The club itself was a disaster and she was just too much, you know?"
Hyunjin, intrigued, leaned towards Seungmin. "Who was it?" he urged.
Seungmin, with a smirk, teased, "That part, I can't tell you. Gotta keep my mouth shut."
Hyunjin persisted, "Oh, come on, give us a hint."
The mischievous look in Seungmin eyes intensified, and he simply replied, "Let's just say, she does music."
Hyunjin's eyes widened in excitement. "No way! An idol? Who could be so bad that she overwhelmed you?" he exclaimed, almost jumping in his seat.
Seungmin, nonchalant, rolled his eyes. "Believe me, it's a mystery."
Hyunjin's excitement reached new heights. "Come on, Minnie! You can't drop a bomb like that and not spill the details. Is she a rookie? Gosh, Kim Seungmin please don't be hanging around children."
Seungmin gasped dramatically, "What no! She's in a group that's been around for a while. But that's it, no more hints!"
Hyunjin, unable to contain his curiosity, leaned forward as if on the verge of revealing his suspicions. "Wait a minute… is it—" He caught himself just in time, the name hovering on the tip of his tongue. A sudden look of realization crossed his face, and he quickly retracted his statement. "Never mind, forget I said anything. I don't want to get into trouble."
Seungmin, smirking at Hyunjin's near revelation, teased, "Careful, Hyunjin." Hyunjin, grinning sheepishly, nodded in agreement.
Jeongin's noticeable silence lingered in the car, prompting Seungmin's concern. "You okay?" he asked, to which Jeongin offered a nod. Meanwhile, Hyunjin had a mischievous smirk on his face.
"So, Jeongin, how's it going with your girl?" Hyunjin probed, and Jeongin shot him a bemused look.
"We're good," Jeongin replied, refusing to tell them that you two had broken up.
Hyunjin rolled his eyes theatrically. "Come on, give us the juicy details. Ever since you two became official, you're acting like it's this huge secret. What's the deal?"
Jeongin, maintaining his composed demeanor, stated, "I don't feel the need to share my love life with everyone." Hyunjin responded with an audible groan as he heard this.
"No one's fun anymore," Hyunjin lamented. "Remember the good old days when you would gush about her. We'd get sick of hearing about your big fat crush on her. Now it's all hush-hush. Boring." He sighed as Seungmin pulled into the vast parking lot of the club.
Seungmin maneuvered the car into a spot, bringing it to a halt. The trio exited the car, and he swiftly locked it, the subtle click echoing in the night. They made their way towards the club entrance, where a formidable bouncer stood guard.
Recognizing the members, the bouncer nodded, allowing them passage. With a nod of gratitude, they entered the vibrant realm of Hallyu.
As soon as they stepped inside, Jeongin excused himself abruptly, leaving Hyunjin and Seungmin exchanging perplexed glances. Over the pounding beats and lively chatter, Hyunjin tried to communicate, "Where do you think he's off to so suddenly?"
Amidst the booming music and pulsating bass, Hyunjin attempted to voice their shared confusion, but Seungmin couldn't hear him. Seungmin strained to hear over the deafening noise, responding with a confused shrug. Hyunjin, realizing the problem, cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed into Seungmin's ear, "WHERE DO YOU THINK HE'S OFF TO SO SUDDENLY?"
Seungmin, startled from the sudden volume, yelled back, "No idea!" They continued further into the club, navigating the lively crowd while Jeongin ventured off in search of you, his footsteps merging with the rhythmic beats that echoed through the Hallyu atmosphere.
Amidst the pulsating lights and thumping beats, Jeongin navigated through the expansive club, checking every corner except the bar in his quest to find you. The sea of people, familiar faces, and the sheer enormity of the venue made the search challenging.
Navigating through the pulsating crowd, Jeongin unexpectedly collided with Yuna. Her friendly smile greeted him, "Hey, Jeongin."
"Hi, Yuna," Jeongin replied, returning the greeting. Yuna's eyes held a flicker of recognition. "I see you brought your girlfriend here tonight," she remarked, making an assumption Jeongin wasn't prepared for.
Confusion furrowed Jeongin's brow as he eagerly asked, "My girlfriend?"
Yuna insisted, "Yeah, your girlfriend. Why are you so shocked?"
"Because I'm not dating anyone," Jeongin replied.
"Stop lying," Yuna said as she gave him a playful swat across the shoulder.
"Shin Yuna, I'm not, I'm serious," He laughed wholeheartedly.
"Yang Jeongin, I know there's a girl" She stated, giving him the same energy.
Jeongin sighed, accepting his defeat, "Well, did you see her anywhere? I don't know where she is."
Amused, Yuna teased, "How did you lose her?"
Growing more exasperated, Jeongin explained, "Because I didn't bring her here with me. She came without telling me, and I don't even know who she even came with! Just tell me where you saw her."
Rolling her eyes, Yuna quipped, "Jeez, I haven't met her before or seen her tonight, but some of the others pointed her out."
Jeongin face-palmed, frustration evident on his features. "How do people even know about her?"
"Your members are uncontrollable," Yuna chuckled.
Jeongin sighed, seeking more information, "Well, did anyone say where she was?"
"They had drinks with them earlier, so probably one of the bars. Maybe check around?" Yuna suggested, offering a helpful direction amid the chaos of the club.
Concern etched Jeongin's features as he mumbled a quick thanks and continued his search. Determined, he headed toward the bar, hoping to find you amidst the myriad faces in the bustling club.
As Jeongin approached the bar, scanning the crowded area, his heart skipped a beat as he spotted you, plopped on the counter. He could always recognize you from far away by the way your hair fell loose around your shoulders, catching the iridescent lights of the club. He couldn't help but notice the way your tight outfit hugged your curves in all the right places he was so familiar with. Instinctively, he walked up to you and put a gentle hand on your arm out of habit.
Unaware of his identity and startled by the sudden touch, you reacted defensively, swiftly hitting him, mistaking him for a stranger. Jeongin winced but quickly spoke, "Y/N, it's me." Your eyes widened in recognition.
"Jeongin? What are you doing here?" you spoke up, looking around nervously as if checking to see if anyone would notice you two talk to each other.
He arched an eyebrow, his expression turning serious. "I should be asking you the same question. What are you doing here alone?"
Your words came out slurred, and Jeongin's concern deepened as he noticed the unease in your demeanor. "I..." you began, your voice trailing off as tears welled up in your eyes.
Jeongin's heart clenched at the sight of your distress, and he sat down on the bar stool next to yours. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. Jeongin's concern deepened as he observed your drunk state. He could see the distress in your eyes and the vulnerability in your words. "Why are you so upset, Y/N?" he asked gently, with worry in his tone.
You hiccupped, the alcohol clearly affecting your composure. "It's just... some of my idol friends, they brought there, but then they left me alone with some guy. They keep doing this. I could never tell them I had a boyfriend, so they keep introducing me to these random men, and it's just... it's a little too much."
Jeongin listened attentively, his jaw clenched in silent anger. He knew how much you used to value your relationship, and the thought of your friends continuously setting you up with strangers without considering your feelings frustrated him.
"You shouldn't have to go through this, Y/N." Jeongin finally spoke.
A tear streamed down your face as you spoke, "And the guy tonight..." you began but a big hiccup interrupted you.
Jeongin's eyes narrowed, his protective instincts kicking in as he listened to your distressed voice. "What happened with him, Y/N? Did he do something to you?" he asked, his voice tense with concern.
You took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself. "He was just so bad, Jeongin. He kept on touching me and we kissed." You added, "Please don't be mad. I wouldn't take advantage of our breakup like that. I tried to stop him, but he was so pushy, and I didn't know what to do."
Jeongin's eyes tightened with anger as he heard the details of your distressing encounter. He remained silent for a moment, absorbing the gravity of the situation. Your fear was palpable, and he could feel the urgency in your plea for understanding.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low and steady, "Y/N, what does the guy look like?"
You hesitated, fear evident in your eyes. "I don't want to see him again. I just want to forget about it."
Jeongin's expression softened, understanding the depth of your discomfort. "I need to know so I can make sure you're safe. You don't have to face him again, but I need to know who he is."
You reluctantly told him the name of the guy and provided enough visual details for Jeongin to identify him if necessary. As you spoke, Jeongin's jaw clenched, his protective instincts kicking in even more.
After you finished explaining, Jeongin stayed silent for a moment before finally saying, "Y/N, I'll never be mad at you for this. I'm furious at that guy for treating you like that. No one should ever make you feel unsafe."
You nodded, grateful for his understanding. "I just really want a hug right now," you admitted, your voice trembling.
Jeongin's eyes softened, and without a moment's hesitation, he pulled you into a tight embrace. It wasn't the response you were expecting. You had wanted him to suggest something like "Wanna leave? We can take a cab back to your house and I'll stay for the night." and hug you when you got home. Instead, Jeongin, sensing the urgency of the moment, chose to offer comfort right there and then.
As he held you close, the chaotic surroundings of the club seemed to fade away. Jeongin's arms provided a shield, and the steady beat of his heart against your ear drowned out the noise. It was an unexpected moment of tenderness amidst the chaos, a silent reassurance that you weren't alone.
"Jeongin, everyone's going to see," you whispered anxiously, your voice shaking with fear. The overwhelming noise of the club seemed to amplify your vulnerability.
Jeongin continued to hold you close, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Shh, we're okay," he whispered softly, his words a gentle lullaby to your escalating anxiety. Without breaking the embrace, he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. "You said you two kissed?" Jeongin questioned.
"He kissed me," you corrected, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jeongin's expression tightened with controlled anger, but before he could say anything, you felt his gentle touch on your face. His thumb brushed away a stray tear, and his eyes locked onto yours. "Where?" he asked, his tone soft but demanding answers.
"On the lips," you replied, your voice trembling. You could see the anger flicker in Jeongin's eyes, but there was something else too—something tender.
Without saying a word, Jeongin leaned in, his hands resting on your waist. As Jeongin's lips met yours, the fear and anxiety began to melt away. It was a kiss that held reassurance, a silent promise that you were fully his.
As the kiss lingered, you couldn't help but marvel at the fact that Jeongin was openly expressing affection in public, something he had never done before. It struck you that he was okay with showing you off to other people at that moment.
However, as Jeongin pulled away, you sensed a sudden shift in the atmosphere. He avoided eye contact, his gaze fixed on some distant point. A knot of worry formed in your stomach. It felt as if he were already regretting it.
"Jeongin, look at me," you urged, your voice filled with concern. But he continued to avoid your gaze, and the worry intensified. "Jeongin," you repeated, trying to catch his eye, but he remained unresponsive.
In a moment of desperation, you gently lifted his chin, forcing him to meet your eyes. What you saw took you aback – tears glistened in Jeongin's eyes. This sight, combined with his refusal to make eye contact, sent a surge of anxiety through you.
"Jeongin, what's wrong?" you asked, your voice trembling. Without hesitation, you reached up to wipe away the tears that trailed down his cheeks. He didn't resist, but his silence and tears spoke volumes.
His emotions seemed overwhelming, and you knew Jeongin was not one to cry in front of so many people. It left you deeply concerned. Looking around, you noticed the crowded nature of the club and realized it wasn't the right place for such a vulnerable moment.
You stood up, gesturing for Jeongin to follow you to a quieter area. The unspoken understanding passed between you as he rose, and you both navigated through the pulsating crowd to find a more secluded spot where you could unravel the emotions that had surfaced.
Finding a small corner away from the pulsating beats and prying eyes, you gestured for Jeongin to sit with you. As you both settled into a more private space, you could feel the weight of the unspoken emotions hanging in the air.
"Jeongin, please tell me what's going on," you pleaded, your worry etched across your face.
He took a deep breath, his shoulders trembling slightly, and finally met your gaze. The pain in his eyes struck you, and you realized that whatever had triggered this emotional response went beyond the events of the night.
"I'm sorry, Y/N," he whispered, his voice catching in his throat. "I didn't mean to... I just..." He struggled to find the right words.
Concern deepening, you gently cupped his face, wiping away the remnants of tears. "Jeongin, you can tell me anything."
Jeongin took a deep breath, his eyes reflecting a mixture of regret and pain. "Y/N, I thought keeping our relationship a secret would protect you from any trouble. But I see now that it only did you worse."
As he spoke, his voice carried the weight of realization, and you listened attentively, still holding his face in your hands.
"The reason you got harassed tonight was all because of me," Jeongin continued, his words laced with self-blame. "I was too afraid to let people know about us, and it got you stuck in situations like this."
Your heart ached for Jeongin's internal struggle, but you could also sense the sincerity in his words. "Jeongin, it's not your fault. I'll never blame you for what happened tonight. Those people were out of line, and it had nothing to do with us keeping our relationship private."
He nodded, appreciating your understanding but still burdened by guilt. "I should have let you tell your friends about us. Then, they would've never tried to set you up with guys like that."
You took a deep breath, your thumb gently caressing his cheek. "Jeongin, it's not your fault. What happened tonight, it could have easily happened anytime. It has nothing to do with you."
Jeongin's shoulders slumped, the weight of his guilt evident in his posture. "I just… I didn't know how to be a good boyfriend. I was scared, so I just broke it off like that." he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your heart broke at his words, and you reached out to take his hand in yours, offering what little comfort you could. "Jeongin, you are a good boyfriend," you reassured him, your voice firm with conviction. "You were always there for me. When you were keeping our relationship private, your heart was in the right place since you just wanted to protect me."
He shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes once again. "But it hurt you to have to deal with that," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.
You felt a pang in your chest at his words, "It did at times," you admitted softly. "But what hurt the most was when you broke up with me, Jeongin. I didn't want us to end like that."
Jeongin's gaze softened, his heart aching at the pain he had caused you. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with regret. "I never wanted to hurt you. I just... I didn't know how to handle everything, and I thought it was for the best." He paused for a moment, "Can we just forget it all happened?"
You looked at Jeongin, "What do you mean?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jeongin sighed, his gaze dropping to the ground as he struggled to find the right words. "I hate the thought of us breaking up. I hate that word. I don't even want to call it a breakup," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I just... I want to call it... our time to learn from each other."
"Does this mean you want us to get back together?" you asked, your voice laced with cautious optimism.
Jeongin nodded, his eyes meeting yours. "Yes, Y/N," he replied, his voice filled with determination. "I want us to give our relationship another chance. But I don't want us to dwell on this past week like it was some tragedy. I want us to focus on moving forward together, stronger and more committed than ever before."
You smiled softly at Jeongin's words, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "I want that too, Jeongin," you admitted, your voice filled with sincerity.
"I wanna show you off." He admitted.
"We can take it slow." you reassured.
"No, really," he confirmed, his tone serious. "In fact, if it weren't for running into Yuna earlier and her knowing you as girlfriend, I might never have found you this easily."
Your eyes widened in surprise at his revelation, a soft laugh escaping your lips. "Yuna knew me?" you exclaimed, unable to hide your astonishment.
Jeongin nodded, a chuckle escaping his lips. "Yeah, she did," he confirmed, his eyes shining with amusement. "And thanks to her, I was able to find you and have this conversation with you."
You couldn't help but chuckle at Jeongin's admission, finding his reaction endearing. "Well, I guess we owe Yuna a thank you then," you remarked, a playful glint in your eyes.
Jeongin grinned, nodding in agreement. "Definitely," he replied, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "But you know, I want people to know about you. I want the world to know how much you mean to me."
A soft smile tugged at your lips, touched by his sentiment. "Well, you realize you did kiss me at the bar in front of everyone," you teased gently, a playful glint in your eyes.
Jeongin's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he realized his slip-up. "Oh right," he muttered sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess I forgot that there were people around us."
You chuckled softly, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his arm. "I guess you must've accidentally shut them out."
A tender smile spread across Jeongin's face, his eyes shining with affection. "Yeah, I was probably to focused," he admitted, his voice filled with warmth. "That's what happens when you're in love."
Your heart swelled with warmth at Jeongin's words, feeling the sincerity behind them. As you smiled, Jeongin's expression softened even more, his gaze lingering on your lips. Without a word, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. The world around him seemed to fade away once again as your lips met in a tender kiss.
Wrapping your arms around him, you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Sensing your desire, Jeongin responded eagerly, his arms encircling you as he lifted you effortlessly. You found yourself straddling him, your bodies pressed together as the kiss grew more passionate, more urgent.
He pulled away slightly, his lips lingering dangerously close to yours. In the hushed space between you, he whispered those three words, "I love you," his breath warm against your skin.
"I love you t-", Before you could respond, before you could utter those same words that had been waiting on the tip of your tongue, he silenced you by shoving his tongue into your opened mouth.
You eagerly welcomed him, losing yourself in the heat of the moment. There was an urgency, a hunger in the way he kissed you, as if he couldn't get enough of you, as if he wanted to consume you entirely.
As the two of you were lost in the intensity of your make out sesh, a voice suddenly shattered the passionate haze. "Yang Jeongin!" The voice was loud and unmistakable, causing both of you to pull apart, breathless and startled.
Turning towards the source of the interruption, you were met with the sight of Hyunjin, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open in disbelief.
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belovedspector · 4 months
Text
Leap Year
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Pairing: Jake Lockley x gn!reader (mentions of Steven Grant x gn!reader and Marc Spector x gn!reader)
Word Count: 1.3k
Summary: Jake has never celebrated his birthday. He didn’t even have a birthday, until you urged him to pick a date. Of course, he picks the most chaotic date possible.
Content: Fluff, one use of a pet name (honey)
A/N: I was thinking about the fact that it’s a leap year, and this idea sort of just came to me. I don’t have much else to say about it. Enjoy! :)
Masterlist
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“When’s your birthday?” you ask out of the blue one day over dinner.
Jake pauses, forkful of pasta halfway to his mouth. Carefully, he places the fork back on his plate and says, “Don’t have one.”
“What do you mean?” you ask.
Jake shrugs. “I know Marc’s is March ninth. I didn’t exactly check the calendar on the day I first showed up.”
“What about Steven?” Your food is now totally forgotten.
“Same as me, I guess,” Jake says. He looks into the reflection of his glass, likely listening to one of his alters.
You sit there for a few moments, deep in thought. Finally, you look up at Jake. “Well, then you’ll have to pick one.”
“What?”
“You and Steven should pick your own birthdays.”
Oh, boy. Jake knows that look in your eyes, knows from the way they’re sparkling that there’s no way you’re letting this go.
“Look, I dunno—” he tries.
“Come on, it’ll be fun!” you encourage him.
Jake knows there’s no getting out of this. “Fine,” he relents, pretending to be more annoyed than he actually is. Really, he thinks your enthusiasm is adorable, and he’d do just about anything to make you happy.
You cheer. “Great! Do you want me to help you pick a date? I should have some astrology books around here somewhere—”
“Astrology?” Jake scoffs. “I don’t need astrology. I already know what date I want.”
“Oh? Which one?” You lean forward in anticipation.
“February twenty-ninth.” Jake sits back in his chair and crosses his arms, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
“February twenty-ninth?” you repeat. “Why?”
Jake shrugs. “Why not?”
“I don’t know, I—” You sigh. “I guess there’s nothing wrong with that. I’ll put it in my calendar,” you say with a smile. “Now, we just need to find a birthday for Steven.”
“He’s already blabbing on about it.” He rolls his eyes fondly. “I think he’ll take you up on the astrology book offer.”
“Perfect!” you say. He can see the moment you get that faraway look in your eye, no doubt already analyzing which sign would match Steven best.
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Seasons change, time marches on, and Jake completely forgets about the birthday conversation. Sure, Steven had made a big fuss over choosing his own date for a while, but, once that was settled, there was no need to think about the matter anymore.
So, it comes as a shock when, on a random winter day, Steven has called out of work and insisted that Jake take the body. Jake tries to argue, to get Marc on his side, but it’s no use. His alters slip deeper into the headspace, leaving Jake alone for the time being.
He notices you’re already out of bed, and it’s at that moment he hears movement coming from the kitchen. He throws on a t-shirt and sweatpants and gets up to investigate. Sure enough, there you are, singing to yourself as you stand at the stove.
Jake has spent a lifetime creeping in the shadows, so he’s gotten very good at sneaking up on people. Silently, he moves across the kitchen and wraps his arms around you from behind. You startle before laughing and leaning into the touch.
“Good morning, Jake,” you say brightly.
“Morning, honey,” he mumbles, burying his face in your neck. “What’re you doing?”
“Making pancakes.”
Jake perks up at that. “What’s the occasion?”
You laugh. “Don’t you know what today is?”
Jake thinks about it. “March first?” he tries.
“It’s a leap year, silly,” you correct him, “so it’s February twenty-ninth. Happy birthday!”
Oh, right, that.
“You didn’t have to do anything special,” Jake protests.
“Are you kidding? This is the first-ever birthday you’re celebrating. We’ve gotta make it special.”
Jake feels something warm blooming in his chest, a feeling that is occurring more and more often when he spends time with you.
You plate the now-finished pancakes—banana, his favorite—and lead him over to the kitchen table, which has already been set. You dish out the pancakes and pour two glasses of juice before joining Jake at the table.
“Is this why Steven and Marc were being weird this morning?” Jake asks as he cuts into his pancakes.
You chew thoughtfully. “Probably. I swore them to secrecy.”
Jake grunts. “Really, you didn’t have to do all this.”
“Oh, Jake,” you say with a grin, “we’re just getting started.”
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Jake hates drawing attention to himself. It’s the antithesis of his being; at least, it used to be, when he was still keeping himself hidden from his alters and working for Khonshu. Now, even though he can be more present, it still makes him uncomfortable to be in the spotlight. So, being the center of attention, the “birthday boy,”  isn’t really his style.
Of course, you know all this, and you plan the day around it. There will be no impromptu singing of “Happy Birthday” by waiters and random patrons in a restaurant—not on your watch. Instead, you spend a nice, quiet day together, walking around the city like a couple of tourists. It’s a mild day, not nearly as cold as it could be, so you even get to spend some time in the park, one of Jake’s favorite spots to relax.
It’s rare for Jake to get to spend a whole day with you like this. Sure, he and his alters have figured out a pretty fair schedule, but between work and life, it doesn’t always work out. Some days, he only catches glimpses of you in the morning, and come evening you’re so tired that he practically has to carry you to bed.
On the way back to your home, you make a quick stop at a little building with a pink awning. “Lily’s Bakery,” the sign reads in looping cursive. You pop in quickly and return moments later with a matching pink box.
“What’s that?” Jake asks.
“You’ll see,” you say with a glint in your eye.
After you’ve cooked and eaten Jake’s favorite dinner, you bring out the pink box again. You tell Jake to close his eyes, and, with a little eye roll, he complies. There’s some rustling, the sound of a box opening, and the click of a lighter before you say, “Okay, open!”
Jake uncovers his eyes, and he’s shocked by the gasp that leaves him. In front of him is a chocolate chip cookie cake that you’ve added candles to. Blue letters spell out, “Happy Birthday Jake,” and there’s even a little taxi cab drawn with frosting.
“I hope this is okay,” you say quickly. “I know you’re not the biggest fan of cake…”
“Are you kidding? This is perfect,” Jake assures you, blinking back the tears in his eyes.
When you sing “Happy Birthday” to him in the comfort of your home, Marc and Steven join in from the headspace.
“Okay, blow out the candles and make a wish!” you say.
Jake doesn’t need any wishes. He already has everything he could ever want right in front of him.
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“What about next year?” Jake asks as the two of you lay in bed that night.
“What do you mean?” You roll onto your side to face him.
“My birthday next year. Do we skip it?’
“Of course not,” you say. “We’ll just celebrate the day before or after.”
Jake hums.
“Is that okay?” you ask.
If you had asked Jake that a year ago, the answer would have been a flat-out “no.” He hated drawing attention to himself, hated being fussed over. He felt like he didn’t deserve it.
What a difference a year makes, though. Instead, he smiles at you and says, “That sounds nice.”
“Happy birthday, Jake,” you whisper, leaning over to kiss him softly before returning your head to the pillow. “I love you.”
By the time he murmurs back, “I love you, too,” you’re already asleep.
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A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think! Also, I have some ideas for follow-ups with Steven picking his birthday, plus celebrating Marc’s birthday, so let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in! :)
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gratelove · 5 months
Text
You Didn’t Tell Me
Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: 18+, sexual intercourse, oral, sweet Peter, rough, fluff
You’re Peter’s best friend and he has seemed distant recently. You try to confront him about it and it turns into an argument. You go to his house to make up, and find him coming home as Spider-Man. This leads to reader and Peter getting steamy.
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“Hey Pete, I was thinking we could hang out after school? You could come over and we can maybe have a movie night?” You ask your best friend, Peter Parker. You are both walking through the crowded halls on the way to your next class.
“I can’t tonight.” Is all he says. He won’t make eye contact with you and as you watch him, he licks his lips nervously, running a hand through his soft, brown hair. You’re walking so close to each other that your shoulders bump every once in a while. You can smell a faint scent of cologne. The cologne he always wears that you love so much.
“Why not?” You stare at him, stopping in your tracks. You can feel yourself starting to get frustrated, but you try to keep your cool. Peter has been dodging you for the last few weeks. You used to hang out every day after school. Whether it was studying, watching movies, or just talking for hours. He’s the only person that you could genuinely talk to forever about nothing in particular. All you know is that you miss your best friend.
“Because I’m… Im busy. I promised May we’d go out to eat.” You both move out of the center of the busy hallways and you lean against a locker, raising your eyebrow at his statement.
“Really?” You know that’s a lie and now your blood starts to boil.
“Yes, really.” Peter says, still continuing to avoid eye contact.
“May texted me this morning. She asked me if we were hanging out tonight. She said she’s worried because she hasn’t seen me over there in weeks. Why are you lying to me Peter?” Your fingers tighten around the school books in your hand.
“Look, Y/N, I’m sorry. I just can’t tonight.” Peter turns his back to you and continues down the hall.
“Why won’t you tell me? We tell each other everything!” You catch up to him, walking fast, trying to keep up with him.
“I really can’t do this, Y/N. Please just leave it alone.”
“No! If I did something wrong, I’m sorry. If you don’t want to be my friend, just say so! Don’t just ignore me and pretend I don’t exist!” Peter turns in front of you, stopping all movement.
“I just don’t have time for you!” Peter yells. A couple people walking by stare as they go. You are filled with embarrassment as you see others eyes on you. “Im sorry, Y/N. I just can’t do this right n-“
“It’s fine.” Tears pool in your eyes and you take a deep breath. You push past him, hitting him with your shoulder. You wipe the tear falling down your cheek and head to your next class.
——
You’ve had all day to think about the argument you had with Peter and decide that you should go talk to him. There is obviously something going on, and you’ve always told each other everything, so this must be serious. Instead of pushing him away, or getting mad at him, you should just be there for him as his friend. You decided that you are going to go straight to his house to talk to him and apologize for pressuring him to talk.
Once you arrive, you knock on the door and May answers. She smiles and give you a big hug.
“Hey sweetheart! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” You smile and step inside, as May closes the front door.
“Hey May, is he here?” You ask, looking at the stairs that lead to Peter’s room.
“No, but you’re more than welcome to wait for him. Did you want anything to eat?”
“No, thank you. I’m just going to do some homework in his room.” You head up the wood stairs, a couple of them squeak as you go up. You get to his room to see clothes thrown on the floor and paper scattered on his desk. This is unusual for him. He usually keeps his room clean and tidy. You pull out your laptop and starting writing an essay for class. You do this for what feels like hours.
——
Several hours later, you have finished your paper, and are just scrolling through your phone. It’s dark outside and you look at the time. It’s almost 11:00 at night.
Suddenly, you hear the bedroom window being pulled open. Your heart starts to race and grab the first thing your hand touches, which is a clock, and you prepare to throw it at an intruder. You soon realize the mystery person crawling through the window is Peter… in a Spider-Man suit? Is he?
“Peter?” He quickly turns around as you drop the clock to the floor in shock. Your eyes widen. “Your-your Spider… You’re Spider-Man?” He pushes a small spider emblem on the center of his chest and the skin tight suit starts to fall from his chiseled shoulders.
“No no no. I’m not. No I’m not.” Peter says frantically. He’s left in just a pair of boxers as he stands there with a horrified look on his face. Sure that your expression matches, you sit on the edge of his bed.
“How is that possible? How are you… I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” You shake your head and Peter walks over to you, sitting next to you.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just wanted you to be safe. I was afraid if you knew, that you would be in danger. I was also told not to tell anyone. I’m really sorry, Y/N.” He puts a hand on your thigh and you feel tingles shoot through your body.
“I was so scared that you didn’t want to be my friend.” You put your hand over his and he smiles.
“I honestly couldn’t live without you. I was only willing to if it meant you were going to be safe. I’d do anything to make sure that happens. I wanted to tell you more than anything, but I was scared.” Your stomach flutters at his words as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You lean into his hand and smile. You have always had a small crush on Peter. One that you would never tell him about because you wouldn’t want to lose him or ruin your friendship. Right now, those feelings are stronger than ever. “You know, I honestly didn’t think I’d ever say this, but… oh god.” Peter pauses and takes a deep breath.
“Hey, you can tell me anything.”
“You say that, but you have no idea what I’m going to say. Y/N, I’ve loved you for the longest time.” You are taken back at Peter’s confession. You never once thought you’d hear those words. You never thought your feelings would ever be reciprocated.
“I- Peter-“
“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Pete puts his head in hide hands. “Spider-Man gives me a stupid sense of confidence.” He shakes his head and you giggle. You pull at his wrists so that the beautiful brunette boy is forced to look at you. His face is bright red in embarrassment. You grab both sides of his cheeks and kiss him. You feel his hands wrap around your waist and slightly squeeze. You pull away and look into his sweet brown eyes. A large smiles spreads across his face. “I’ve been thinking about doing that for too many years.” You both giggle and you feel his warm breath across your cheeks.
“Then do it again.” He stares at you for a moment, and then your lips are connected again. You tug lightly at his curls as he deepens the kiss. His hands run down your neck until they find them hem of your shirt. He lips trail down your cheek, then your jaw line, until they find the crook of your neck. His fingers play with the fabric, and you lift your back up slightly, giving him the cue to pull your shirt off. Peter stares at your chest. Your breasts pool slightly over your pink, floral bra from holding yourself up on your elbows.
“Do you want to?” He asks, continuing to stare at you in awe. His voice is shaky as he asks. You can tell he is nervous. You know he is a virgin.
“Do you want to? This’ll be your first time. Are you sure this is what you want?” You ask and watch his expression. He face turns red with embarrassment and you giggle. “It’s okay if you’re nervous. I just want to make sure that this is what you want.”
“It is what I want. I want you so badly, Y/N. I’ve wanted you for years.” You grab the back of Peter’s neck and connect your lips together. He moans into the kiss. You stop kissing and shove your hand against his chest.
“Roll over.” You smile and he follows your instructions. You are now straddling him. You go for his neck and start sucking at the skin, hopefully leaving bruises. Peter moans underneath you and you can feel yourself start to get wet. You run your fingers over his abs and slowly make your way down his abdomen with your mouth. Your lips connecting with his warm skin until you reach the top of his thin, black boxers. He’s bulging out of the thin fabric, and you run your hand over his hard cock. Your fingers play with the hem as you kiss his penis through the cloth. “Pull your boxers down.” Peter does as you instruct, and soon he is laid before you, naked. His length rests against his stomach. You take him in your hand, wrapping your mouth around his tip. You slowly swirl your tongue around his sensitive tip. You watch as Peter’s eye roll to the back of his head, and he throws his head back against the pillow, letting out a soft moan. He is large and you know you won’t be able to fit his whole cock in your mouth without choking. You let your saliva run down his member and use your hand to start jerking him off. While your hand is rubbing his length, you use your tongue to run circles around his tip.
“Oh fuck, Y/N.” Peter pants. His legs are tensing underneath you, and you feel precum leak onto your tongue. “Y/N, that feels amazing.” You pick up your pace, moving you hand faster, up and down his shaft. His moans start to get louder. “Oh, I’m going to cum.” Just as Peter says that you pull your mouth off of him, leaving him confused and so close to orgasm.
“Condom?” You ask and Peter frantically pulls open the bedside table drawer. He pulls out a small purple package and peels it open. You watch as he fumbles with the rubber in his fingers, eventually grabbing it from him. You line the opening up with his cock and slide it down, making sure to apply pressure. He gives you a small moan and a smile pulls at your lips. You unclamp your bra, exposing your breasts. You stand up and unbutton your jeans, pulling them down with your panties. Peter is staring at you. You climb on top of him, kissing him hard. “I’ve thought about you inside me so many times. I’ve fingered myself to the thought of you fucking me, Parker.” You grab both of his hands and put them on your breasts. You line him up with your entrance and slowly lower yourself onto him. His large member stretches you. Your rest your forehead on Peter’s, and you both let out a moan.
“You feel so tight, Y/N.” Peter groans. His hands find your hips and he squeezes them tight as he lifts you up and down. Your hands grab the headboard and you pick up your pace. You bounce up and down on his hard cock, both of you moaning in sync. Peter takes one of your breasts in his mouth and swirls his tongue around your nipple. Biting it slightly, you thrown your head back, moaning loudly.
“Fuck Peter, you cock feels so good.” In two seconds you are flipped onto your back, Peter now on top of you.
“Can I go harder?” Peter asks and you nod your head. His hands grip at your hips even tighter than before. Peter’s pace picks up compared to when you were on top. His cocks is pounding into you, and you put your hand over your mouth, muffling the screams that try to erupt so May doesn’t hear.
“Fuck, Peter! Oh my god!” You scream through your hand. You see sweat drip down his chest and flow between the shape of his abs. Pieces of brown curls stick and bounce off his glistening forehead. His brown eyes watch as yours are thrown back with the feeling of him pounding you into the mattress. “Im gonna cum.” You grab the back of his neck, wrapping your legs around him, and yank at his hair.
“Me too baby.” He moans and just as you both release you hear a crack and you both drop. You yelp and look around to see one of the bed’s legs snapped. Peter and you lock eyes and then burst into laughter.
“I’ve never been fucked like that before.” Peter chuckles.
“I’m still figuring out how to control my new strength.”
“I think you have it pretty under control.” He raises an eyebrow and kisses you softly.
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tojismain · 5 months
Text
"Then why won't you look at me?"
toji x stressed!reader because i needed to write fluff, angst, and comfort to feed into our delusions <3
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Nothing you ate sat right in your stomach. You would say you're anxious, but you stopped feeling nervous hours ago; now you just felt frustrated, hands gripping the hair on the sides of your head. You couldn't, for the life of anything, understand why it was so hard to just know this. To learn the information and know how to apply it perfectly. You were past being anxious, and you had fallen straight into being scared—scared that if you didn't do this right, it would be disappointing.
You've been sitting at your desk for the past four hours, feeling restless. Toji has been texting you but you stopped checking your phone ever since you muted it, caught up in your own discomfort.
While you're sat there, gripping your head, you hadn't even noticed the tears falling straight onto the words you've written, smudging them. The tears felt warm, running down your face far too quickly. You look down, almost mesmerised, momentarily oblivious to your work, your mind going blank. You miss the sound of the front door unlocking, miss Toji walking in, and completely miss the call of your name.
Toji's eyebrows furrow once he spots you sitting at the desk. It wasn't anything strange, but it was your complete disconnection that catches his attention.
"Sweetheart?" he tries again.
His steps are calculated as he approaches you. Even as he stands right next to you, your eyes are still boring into the pages.
"Hey."
The sight of your hands and their position in your hair deepens his frown. His own reaching for yours, gently grabbing them as he stands over you. Your head turns, nose and cheeks red.
"Toji?"
"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" He lets go and moves to crouch right in front of you, his hands finding yours once again. He starts rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles.
You sniffle and let out a chuckle "Studying?" Your answer comes out with a light breath.
"Hm." He hums in acknowledgment. "And when's the last time you got off this chair, baby?"
Your eyes turn hazy at his question, and you frown, unable to control your face or emotions. You opt for shrugging. Looking at him uncertainly.
You know how important it is to take care of yourself, and you definitely know how much it matters to him.
"How about we go eat dinner?" His words are soft, and so are his hands. You glance down at them.
You shake your head. "I have to study, Toji. You should eat. I just need to finish—"
"Baby—"
"No. I'm going to finish this." You let yours hands slip from his, and you turn back to your desk. You hear him standing up, but you ignore his movements and start looking through your papers again.
"Just a few more minutes." You add.
"You need to eat something—"
"I'm not really hungry."
His hand lands on your shoulder, and you shrug it off so fast, almost as if it was scorching hot.
Toji's fists clench in on themselves. He knows you get like this sometimes, but you never took it out on him. Never shrugged him off. His hurt isn't visible but he still wishes you would talk to him instead of pretending like you can do this on your own. Was it selfish that a part of him just wanted to be looked at by you?
"You—"
"Toji, let it go!" You turn towards him, eyes bloodshot red. "Would you leave me alone? I told you I need to finish this. I don't need your constant mothering."
His jaw is clenched, and he isn't sure what he's feeling, but he hates it.
"How can I leave you here when you can't take care of yourself?"
"How would you even know what that looks like?" The words come out before you even understand their meaning and the hurt you're spurring with them.
Regardless of your outburst, he takes a few steps closer. He doesn't say anything. Reaching towards the desk, he starts closing your notebooks. His movements carry a subtle frustration, as if he's assigning blame to the papers for your moment of anger. A physical manifestation of his silent plea for you to step away from your relentless work. It was as if he believed shutting the pages would somehow shut the mounting pressure. He shuts your laptop last and you flinch.
You bite your lips, the taste of anxiety still lingering, and your gaze drops to the floor. Clasping your hands against your chest, you feel the erratic beat of your heart beneath your fingertips. Toji stops moving completely. He looks up, leaning his head back, and he closes his eyes. Everything is still for a second.
He moves his gaze to rest on the wall in front of you.
"You scared of me?"
The question takes you off guard, the weight of his words hanging in the air. It takes a few seconds for you to answer. A few seconds where he turns to look at you again. You shake your head, lips all wobbly.
"Then why won't you look at me?" His jaw is clenched, and his eyes are a darker shade than they were a few seconds ago. He seems more upset with himself than with you.
Are you scared of him? It seems rather unlikely when all you want to do is be closer to him. When it feels like his current proximity is nothing but distance.
"I'm scared of everything else but you," your tightened chest slowly unravels. "I'm sorry".
Your murmured "I'm sorry"s keep tumbling out of your mouth, and you're unaware that you've started to cry again.
Your hands wipe angrily at your cheeks but Toji stops you. His touch lands on your hands, bringing them away from your face. You feel his thumbs wipe away gently at your tears. His fingertips were way softer than yours. Your head felt hot.
"Don't cry."
Your eyes gaze up at him, and he feels relieved. In the haze of the moment, you sense his hands shaking. You stand up and let his hands fall away from your face. Instead, you grab them both and repeat the motions he first did to you when he walked into the room.
You inhale a breath, "I'm sorry I said that."
Toji's eyes soften as he watches you mirror his earlier actions. He allows you to guide his hands into yours, silently appreciating the small reversal of roles. The room is filled with heavy silence, broken by the occasional sniffle and the soft collision of your breaths.
Caught in a moment of vulnerability, Toji breaks the silence.
"You don't need to apologize to me, sweetheart. I just want you to take care of yourself."
You meet his gaze, sincerity evident on his face. His cold demeanor less apparent when he looks at you.
"I know," you whisper. 
The room, once filled with tension, now holds a fragile sense of contentment. It's far from perfect, but less stifling.
"I know you're under a lot of pressure," Toji continues, his hand now placed on the back of your head, cradling you. His thumb swipes across your jaw and neck. "But you can't let yourself fall under, especially not without me". He chooses his words carefully, his tone aloof. His protective demeanor is evident, making you question how you ever allowed doubt to cloud any coherent thought.
You were under a lot of pressure, but maybe, just maybe, you'd let yourself fall into him, without constraints—no warning signs, no reservations, and definitely no uncertainty.
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—aurelia—
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edenfenixblogs · 5 months
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I don’t think most non-Jews understand how disappointed we are in the left right now. How completely abandoned we’ve become. How our contributions to progress for other groups have been erased or disavowed or hidden. How the actual tangible things that Jews have contributed to black rights and civil rights are being ignored. How we’re being told we contribute and have contributed nothing.
How we are being told that the world has been kind to us when it never has. As if my mom didn’t grow up getting called a Kike and getting beat up for being Jewish. How I thought I had friends until I caught them saying “xyz was beautiful until Jews showed up.” How people told me I was pretty “for a Jew.” How I grew up hearing stories about bombs being set off in Israel in buses and markets. How I couldn’t even go two weeks without hearing that and how nobody cared and somehow, every time that happened, the whole world became more hostile to me for some reason.
I just don’t understand. I don’t understand what leftists are doing. Or why. I hate that I have to say—of course, I support a free and self determined Palestine (which I truly do)—in order for you to decide I’m worthy of care and support.
We showed up for you. All of you. And the entire movement is abandoning us at best or targeting us at worst. Celebrating our deaths. Saying we deserved it. How are we supposed to trust you ever again? How are we supposed to feel safe ever again?
A very few select people who are in my life have taken the chance to actually learn about and dismantle their own unconscious antisemitism during this time. And I’m eternally grateful for them. But most people haven’t reached out at all. Most people are still sharing hateful things that could get me hurt and they don’t care. Most people Reblogging my posts are still Jews. Because we are alone. And it sucks. You need to be as loud about antisemitism as you are about Palestine or you’re an antisemite (unless you’re Arab/Muslim/Palestinian—I totally get that these groups are also doing damage control in their own communities just like Jews are).
But we are all in tremendous pain right now.
This moment will pass. And when it does, I will remember how many people let me down. I will remember that when I needed support more than I’ve ever needed it in my life, people fucking vanished. They pretended violence against my people wasn’t happening. They ignored and rewrote the history of Israel to suit their own narratives.
You don’t know what it feels like to be hated this much for opposite things. PoC hate us for being too white. White supremacists hate us for not being white enough. Europeans hate us for being middle eastern. Middle easterners hate us for being western/European. Everyone hates us for being settlers but continually kicks us out of their countries so that we have to settle somewhere else.
I saw a post going around from a Black person who said that the reason he and his fellow black activists go protest for Palestinians instead of fighting antisemitism (as if it’s a binary, which it’s not) is that Jews don’t show up. Muslims and Palestinians do. And honestly? Fuck that guy. Heather Heyer died standing shoulder to shoulder against racism in 2017. [CORRECTION: When I first wrote this post I was under the impression that Heather Heyer was Jewish. I want to correct to avoid spreading misinfo. She was just the first (and incorrect) Jewish civil rights activist I thought of. However there are plenty of other actual Jewish civil rights activists to choose from. If you have reblogged this post from me, please feel free to add a link to the permalink version of this post with my correction to your reblog.]I have devoted substantial time and effort and money that I don’t even get paid a lot of because I don’t get paid a living wage. I have continually reached out to PoC people in my life of all religions to ask how they are doing and what I could be doing to help more—both for them personally and how they would best like me to help their community. I have elevated their voices at every opportunity. And not one person I checked in with has done the same for me or for my community.
And it’s bone chilling. It’s awful. And it’s even worse knowing that when it’s over, people will want to go back to normal. They won’t apologize. They won’t self reflect. They’ll just live their lives, maybe a little more aware of how much they hate us and completely indifferent to the harm they’ve caused us. How disposable they made us feel. And the thing is…it’s not hard for you to know. You just have to ask.
Too many people are cowards. Too many people care about looking good than actually learning something or making the world better. And to those people: you should be ashamed of yourself.
I don’t have any hate in my heart. Truly. Not a drop for any group of people. But I have a tremendous lack of trust that anyone would actually lift a finger to keep me safe.
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19burstraat · 1 month
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unbelievably specific modern things the crows would love. too bad they live in a late-1800s fantasy world
Kaz: screenshotting nfts, those web weaving posts about dog metaphors, leaving people on read, stealing from the self checkout in supermarkets, emo phases, wearing headphones but not actually listening to anything so they're just there just as a conversation deterrent, winding up scam callers, escape rooms, pretending to know nothing about pop culture in order to annoy people, playing solitaire online, Knowing A Guy for everything
Inej: social media sleuthing, posting goodreads quotes, strictly come dancing, snoopy, easily accessible climbing shoes, mr darcy, shouting at the screen when someone's judged incorrectly on a competition show, getting unbelievably competitive about wii sports/duolingo scoreboards/goodreads goals/animal crossing islands/air hockey, texting..... With loads of elipses... Like your parents.... and dropping unprompted wisdom in them.....
Jesper: neon clothes, the 💯 emoji, making everyone as miis on tomodachi life but being so bad at it that kaz and nina's miis end up getting married, lisa frank art, scamming people on depop, cheap jewellery that makes you go green, complaining about how cottagecore videos don't correctly represent the Rural Farm Life, shitty 2000s club bangers, the kitsch movement, giving your car a name, hoiking your novelty socks really high so everyone can see them, shitty christmas films, first person shooters
Wylan: speedpaint videos, joe hisaishi, being judgemental about other people's spotify wrappeds, djungelskog, that gif of the japanese mascot costume running through a bunch of explosions, watching weird low-budget adaptations of shakespeare plays with kaz, those arcade crane games, piercing your own ears with a needle and a lighter then being somehow surprised when it gets infected
Matthias: making an instagram account in-character for your dog, posting low-quality graphics of inspirational or biblical quotes on facebook (yk the ones w the landscape or sunset behind them), taking frowning selfies from below like your granddad does, viking media of any sort, buying dozens of identical t-shirts from big tesco, mixing up celebrities all the time, perpetually caving and giving the scouts/guides/youth groups/football clubs/carollers/etc money for their fundraisers
Nina: making bait posts online in the style of 'why can't we just print more money', period dramas, wearing huge mother of the bride style hats to weddings, saving recipes/crafts/art ideas on tiktok and then never actually doing them, pink gin, tiktok edits of fit celebs/characters, 3 hour video essays abt pop culture, saying 'break up with him' in response to every relationship woe, buying cheerful tat from flying tiger
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tonkatsubowl · 7 months
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Aaaa I saw your hsr men meeting their child and had to send this in.
May I request for Blade, Dan Heng and Jing Yun (all separate) with their toddler who wants to learn how to wield the weapons they do? And sort of being a little trainee to them.
(I don’t know why but it’d be so cute if Blade, even though he put down craftsmanship made a blade for his daughter. Even if it’s a bit big for her and she’s off balance holding it 🥺.)
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ohhh this is adorable! yes yes! ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა
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"if it is only for self-protective purposes." dan heng looked at his toddler who was waving around a stick, trying to mimic the movements of dan heng's spearmanship. a chuckle left your lips as you sat down in front of your child, watching with dan heng as he observed his child's movements.
"we can't always be there to protect our child, truthfully, especially when they are older. i think you should teach them how wield your spear." you say, looking towards your beloved with a faint smile. "it'll help them. and besides, i think it's cute to see mini-dan heng's running around with your spear!"
dan heng had a very faint smile on his lips, but there was nothing that he disliked about what you said. it was the truth, after all. with the dangers of the universe, it would be best to teach his child to learn how to defend themselves.
"alright, then. i will be a little strict with how i teach. i want them to be better than me once they grow older."
"better than you that they'd kick your butt?" you raise a brow, watching as your child began to poke dan heng in various places (he's even shielding where the sun doesn't shine).
"absolutely, y/n."
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"this is for you." blade knelt to his child's height, gifting them a freshly crafted sword. although he had tossed away that part of him a long time ago, this was one of those few rare moments where he'd allow that side of him to return.
his advanced craftsmanship was a gift — only to those that were worth it.
"when you grow up, i'll teach you how to wield a sword to defend yourself. and your mother."
it was so rare to see blade like this. now he was normally sadistic and masochistic, always laughing and slaughtering those who got in his way. he did things for his mission, for his amusement... and now he's sharing the gentle, rare side of him with his own child.
he trusted you, after all, to not say a word about how fully comfortable he felt when it came to being vulnerable around you. you watched with a smile on your face as you watched your child laugh, playing with the toy sword in their hand as they playfully whacked it against blade's head.
"alright, now go attack your mother."
"mama—!"
and now, you'd pretend to be scared for your child, dramatically falling to the floor when your child gently whacks you with the toy.
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"oh, you're with mimi again, huh?" jing yuan mused with a smile on his face as he witnessed his child snuggling up against the giant lioness, who was purring and nuzzling her head against the toddler's head.
you were next to the duo, reading a book as you admired the distance that xianzhou offered. your head turned towards your husband as he entered the fray, holding something behind his back.
"well, luckily for you, i have a gift for you."
your toddler perked their head up, their eyes bright and curious as their father approached them. "papa?" they questioned as they slowly got up, waddling towards their father. mimi stood up as well, following closely behind the child as though protecting them from falling.
jing yuan knelt, presenting a toy replica of his very own weapon. their eyes brightened as they took hold of the sword, waving it around.
"what do you say?" you ask your child, taking a sip of tea.
"thank you, dada!" they exclaim, now beginning to hit jing yuan repeatedly on the hip and mimi on the face with the replica.
"if that's the case," you look to your husband, "will you be teaching them how to fight in the future then?"
"absolutely. in this world... you need to protect yourself."
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luvyunjinxo · 9 months
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embarrassed? karina x fem!reader
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CW: public play, pda, humiliation, not proofread, lmk if I missed a lot (I know I did)
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You hated public affection so much. You were embarrassed by it. You never did like touching, holding, playing with jimin in public. Especially hugging. You hated the fact that you were a gay/bi, and always wanted to hide it. That is why you hated touching so much because you never wanted anybody to know your "secret".
So, on a saturday afternoon you both agreed to have a mall date with each other like you guys always did, cute like usual, except you wanting to even pretend like you guys weren't even friends, like usual. Jimin was so fed up with it and you could tell.
"Y/nnie love, lets hold hands for once?" As she grabbed your hand hesitantly as you guys were walking. You pulled your hand back harshly
"What are you even doing? You know how I feel about us doing this." A scoff left her mouth as she continued to hold your cold hand anyways.
"Jimin, I said no." As you let go again.
"Y/n have you lost your place? I say yes." This game kept going on until you finally gave in and started to hold your hand. Your mood was now grumpy, you were so pissed off at her.
It was a quiet walk to the subway station, but you guys ended up talking anyways. rina apologized to you, but deep down she really wasn't. She never regret one bit of even holding you tight for once. anyways, you went to the back of the train where no one could barely see you guys, or at least your actions.
There were no seats left so obviously you both had to stand in the corner like two innocent girls .. or not ..
You both were minding your own business, you were on your phone watching tiktok as rina stared off into space, she was planning something.
"I need you to be quiet for me a little, okay?"
"rina what are you-"
she slipped her hand under your skirt feeling your clothed cunt and starting playing with it slowly with her index and middle finger from behind you. not knowing how to speak you turned around and gave her the look that went "are you crazy?!".
She literally was.
"take it princess. you've been out of your place all day." she stopped her actions and puts her hand into your underwear, actually touching your crotch this time. you were dripping. her slender fingers thrusting into you made this even more hotter. you came to realization you were literally getting finger-fucked on a train.
"w-what if we get caught?"
"that's really not my problem is it?" her movements sped up and I swear you let out a whimper that was barely audible. you were gonna cum, you were on a subway too oh my gosh.
she could tell you were getting tighter so she slipped her fingers out of you so fast. You groaned so loud it spread and echoed throughout the whole subway. The amount of stares you got were so embarrassing, the whole crowd was looking your way. With that, she decided to embarrass you once again:( .
She entered her fingers into your dripping cunt one last time and started to begin a fast pace hitting that spongey spot just how you liked it. fuck, your legs were shaking. she continued to fuck you harshly while literally everyone looking at you at that point, trying to hard to not make a noise, but right then and there you came.
your eyes were rolling back hard, and countless curses came out of your mouth, you were so embarrassed but such a horny little girl:((. Jimin pulled out of you like it was nothing and started to go on her phone, pretending like completely nothing had just happened.
you stood there so embarrassed, so red and flushed. luckily for you, the train has stopped to your destination. You went out of the train with liquids running down your thighs, soaked underwear, and people still giving you weird ass stares.
"rina! that was so embarrassing why the fuck did you make me do that shit on the subway!"
"still didn't get put in your place huh??" she questioned. oh my, you knew you fucked it up.
got dragged home, karina slamming the door loudly, and you getting pushed on the bed is what happened. Another 1000 punishments were coming your way and you knew it.
You still didn't let her win, so yet you were still being a brat.
"I don't give a fuck if you were done with me! you still didn't have to fuck me on the subway." you screamed at her while being fucked. you were so caught up in your pride and ego.
well, that was it. you were practically dead in two seconds. the next time you guys went out to the mall, she put a vibrator into you. her having the controller at all times. whenever you had to speak, sit, or when you were acting like a brat AGAIN, she would always turn it up leaving you all embarrassed. You never ever learned your place and continued being the brat you are<3
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literaila · 8 months
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Ur writing is great and all but can you write something where Peter is nicer?! I'm over here squirming like a donkey with a carrot dangled in its face and idk I wanna see Peter squirm for once
Ps. I literally inhaled all of ur blurbs in one sitting
dress
tasm!peter x fem!reader
a/n: actually i am physically incapable of making either one of them nice. it’s a character flaw
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*
“peter,” you call, slipping some elaborate strap through shoes you know you’re going to regret later, but are far too good, too hot for now. “are you almost ready?”
last you heard, he’d been putting on his socks and just needed to grab his tie—which he had conviently forgot about.
but knowing peter, you’re not so sure.
you hear a grunt from the other room which means absolutely nothing, and, of course, everything.
“babe,” you whine, standing up to admire your leg for a moment, and then walking into the bedroom, click-clacking on your way. “we’re already fifteen minutes late.”
peter is standing in front of the mirror messing with his hair while his tie hangs loose from his neck. “ j’st one sec,” he mumbles, flipping his mop of a head to the other side like it’s going to fix anything.
“you know you’re supposed to tie that, right?”
“it’s in the name,” peter answers, rolling his eyes before they meet yours in the mirror, and widen every so slightly. “ouch,” he says, turning around you look at you.
“what?”
“that’s what you’re wearing?”
you look down to your dress; you’d been saving it for some special occasion, been waiting at least a year to pull it out from the back of the closet. it’s long and elegant, shows off just the right amount of skin, and is in peters favorite color (not that it matters).
you frown. “yes? is there something wrong with it?”
peter turns around again, clearing his throat. his hands reach for the ends of his tie, but he doesn’t do anything more. his eyes are on yours through the mirror. “nothing,” he says, while watching you.
but his voice is off and he’s still frozen, like he can’t move until you look away.
but you’re not going to back down first, obviously. he doesn’t get the win.
“no,” you say, walking to place a hand on the side of his waist. “what’s up?” you ask, leaning up so your whispering in his ear.
“it’s pretty.”
“then why do you look like i’ve just stolen your baby or something?”
peter shakes his head, and finally, he looks away. his hair gets more messy with every movement he makes. “i’m just nervous.”
“you’re nervous about a charity event that you volunteered both of us to go to?”
“i think the mayor might be there…” he mumbles, messing with the cuffs on his sleeves.
(it’s only slightly distracting)
you snort. “you literally asked the mayor for a fist bump on the news the other day.”
“hey,” peter says, tilting his chin up, “i didn’t do anything.”
“whatever, peter. what’s really going on?”
“i already told you.”
he’s messing with his tie again, but his hands are shaking a bit. and even though he’s pretending to wrap two ends around eachother, he’s not really doing anything at all. just mindlessly fidgeting.
you look at his face, brows furrowed. there’s a hint of pink on his cheeks, and when his eyes meet yours for just a split second, he’s flashing them away like he’s afraid that you’ll catch him.
you blink, frowning, and then you get it.
you smile at him, a bit cruelly.
“you’re nervous, huh?” you say, moving even closer to him. a hand falls on his shoulder, and the other plays with a loose strand of his hair. “this is a big event.”
“uh-huh.”
“i completely understand. who knows what might happen,” you whisper, faux pity in your voice. you turn so you’re facing him, pulling him towards you from the two ends of his tie. peter follows almost limp. “here,” you say, smiling at him, “let me help.”
you wrap the ends into a knot, not looking away from peters eyes for even one moment. you don’t think he’ll mind if his tie turns into a bow.
“you look really nice,” you tell him, whispering even though he’s the only one that can hear you. “i knew you’d look good in a suit.”
peter swallows. “you’ve seen me in one before.”
“mmm, this is different. i’ve never seen you put one on before.” a finger trails up his jaw, and you tilt your head at him.
“oh.”
you giggle, and finally look away, tightening the tie up to his neck. when it’s done you look up at him, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his chin. “there. good?”
peter clears his throat again and turns from your hands to look in the mirror. he straightens the tie, though clenches his fist before he can do it. he nods at you. “thanks.”
“anytime,” you tell him, moving away. you look in the mirror, playing with your hair. “do i look alright?”
peters head snaps towards you. “of course. you look great.”
“really? cause i wasn’t so sure about this dress…” you look down at it, a false pout on your lips.
“it’s beautiful.”
“are you sure, peter? because you kind of froze when i walked in, so… if there’s something wrong with it—“
“no,” peter interrupts. he spins you so your facing him. “it looks great. you look great.”
you sigh, and pull away the tiniest bit. “i guess i could still change, but we might be even later.”
“you don’t need to change,” peter says. his cheeks are even rosier now, and his eyes seem almost pained. but he doesn’t look away from your face.
“you cant even look at me, peter. you don’t need to lie.”
there’s a pause where you’re looking at peter—and even though your face is serious, your eyes are deadly. you want to watch him break. he’s looking back at you, eyes faltering, mouth opening and closing like he’s not quite sure what to say.
and then he shakes his head, sighing. “i cant look at you,” he admits, voice a bit harsh but quiet.
you tilt your head, “why not?”
“we’re already late.”
“what do you mean?”
peter hangs his head for a moment, laughing at the floor. then he looks back at you, and pulls you in by your waist. “if you want to leave any time tonight, then we can’t stand here any longer. i’m already going crazy.”
“why? are you okay?”
he scoffs at you. “c’mon, don��t tease.”
“i would never, peter.”
he rolls his eyes. “i know what you’re doing,” he whispers, leaving a peck on your nose. “and so do you.”
“i’m not doing—“
but he kisses you, rough like he’s been waiting to do it for years on end. his mouth his hot and his hands are desperate as they cling to your waist, your neck, keeping you from moving even a centimeter away from him.
you cant breathe when he kisses you like this, but it’s not completely necessary. you kiss him back with just as much fever, your fingers wrapping into his hair.
when he pulls away, he’s breathless and his eyes are dark. “we really have to go,” he says, voice raw.
you smile up at him, feeling just as breathless. “so you like the dress?”
*
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