#by that! i mean i wanted to add a spin to it
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harringrove angst (kind of mean steve for those who aren't into that)
thinking of steve and billy having bad fights after starting a relationship, and during those fights steve always brings up the night at the byers.
steve doesn’t really know why he does it, him and billy have made amends, they’re together now and they love each other. except, he kind of does know why he brings it up. it wins him the argument. billy goes quiet and hurt and they don’t fight anymore.
because billy doesn’t want to be like neil, wants to show steve (show everyone) that he’s better. he knows he fucked up, that he’s not perfect and probably never will be, but he thought steve had forgiven him. that they’d forgiven each other, because steve apologized to him too. and how can billy bring that up without looking like he’s making excuses? can’t say you hit me too or you know what happened before with my dad or what was i supposed to think about what i found?
eventually steve does it so much that they stop fighting completely. and, yeah, steve no longer has to deal with the arguments, he and billy don’t scream at each other until they’re both in tears anymore. it’s the best they’ve gotten along since they got together or, well, ever.
but he’s also lost the shy smiles billy gives him when it’s just the two of them, and the little laugh that billy is embarrassed of, the one that hiccups out of him and scrunches up his nose. and, most importantly, he’s lost the quiet nights where billy opens up to him, about the abuse from his dad, and how he felt when his mom left, how much he misses her and how he wishes she’d loved him enough to take him with her.
maybe steve starts getting angrier, and more hurt as time goes on and billy doesn’t open back up. he decides that if billy is going to withhold things from him, steve should start being able to take things from billy too. they still have sex, billy still sighs into steve’s neck when steve slides into him but steve starts not kissing billy, turning his head away when billy tries, turning billy on his belly when billy gets too persistent. leaves billy to clean up by himself as soon as they’re done rather than stay in bed holding each other, enjoying the afterglow together like they’ve always done before. stops taking billy out with him when he hangs out with the party or the other teens, stops telling billy when he goes out at all.
and so, the resentment starts to build up, for both of them, and they’re right back where they started, fighting and screaming at each other. but neither of them will leave. they love each other, after all. steve refuses to have another failed relationship, because what does that say about steve? that he isn’t good enough, loveable enough, worthy enough, just not ever enough. and as much as billy doesn’t want to be like neil, he also doesn’t really want to be like his mom either. doesn’t want to abandon steve like his mom abandoned him, knows how it affected him, how it made him feel, and he won’t do that to someone he cares about.
so they stay stuck in this endless cycle because maybe steve loves billy and billy loves steve, but they don’t always like each other, and they definitely don’t trust each other.
#*w#harringrove#billy hargrove#steve h#i'm not great at writing so grammar/syntax are probably all over the place here so apologies for that#but i had this thought and it wouldn't leave#bc as much as i love happy healthy harringrove i also love angst and can see them bringing out the worst in each other#i also have so much more i wanted to add to this but it would have made it start to go all over the place so i will be adding here#but in short i think billy gets nasty when they fight but steve gets nasty and /personal/#steve would regret it as soon as he does it and i feel like he would be the type to love bomb (not necessarily meaning it to be malicious)#but bc he's following the example of his parents (my hc) & also a lot of his self worth is tied into what he can give to/do for his partner#whether that is gifting material objects or an over abundance of attention#and i think most of billy's self worth is tied to his appearance/body and he thinks the way to show he cares is through sex#so even though he doesn't feel like he can share more personal stuff with steve anymore#(or maybe he views steve bringing up the fight as steve saying he views billy bringing up his past as making excuses)#he still feels like he can show steve he loves him by sleeping together#and i hc that sex with steve was a whole nother ball game for billy#that he never kissed with anyone as much as he does with steve or that anyone ever showed as much /care/ as steve does for him during sex#so when steve starts not kissing him or treating him like he did previously it sends billy into a tail spin#and i love emotional billy and emotional billy is canon#but i also feel that billy is so use to hiding his emotions (even if he doesn't succeed at it) bc of what neil would do to him#and he would try to do so doubly for someone he cares for bc he views himself and his emotions as something shameful and volatile and bad#and so those emotions would build and build until he just couldn't keep them in anymore#which of course just starts another fight and so on#they are both deeply insecure individuals your honor#whoops these tags got long sorry
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Tell me more about this book blanket? I'm Fascinated
Omg yay!! Okay so I'm knitting two rows per book that I finish in 2024, and each book rows will be a different color based on the genre it is
So here are the books I've read so far. Everything that's in bold is what I've knitted, and the last book on the list is what I'm currently reading but haven't finished yet. So I've knitted everything before Fifty Feet Down, and read everything up to Annie on My Mind, but I'm currently like thirty percent through it.
I'm choosing colors as I finish genres, and I'm trying to do it only with yarn I have (cuz yarn is expensive and I have a lot of yarn. The reason I have a lot of yarn suitable for a blanket is because I took all of this yarn from a blanket I started knitting four years ago and never finished. Like I finished frogging that blanket yesterday and made it into cakes on my new yarn winder!!) I didn't really try to make the colors fit the genres. I just own a lot of navy yarn and knew I'd read a lot of LGBTQ books, and I own a lot of black and know I'll read a lot of horror books. Then for dystopian I just chose a yarn color that I had available, same with mystery.
Here's how it's going so far! You can see the four navy rows for the two LGBTQ books i read, the two purple for the one dystopian book (which is also very good, I highly recommend Debate Kids at the End of the World and that author in general, Alex Nonymous) and then a chunk of black because I read four I. S. Belle books in a row (you can also see all of the ends I didn't weave in, which I'm going to hate myself for when I finish the blanket)
"But Austyn, what if the book is more than one genre?" I'm so glad you asked! Most of these books could be considered more than one genre. Fifty Feet Down is a mystery, but also a romance. So I just consider what genre I believe is more integral to the story, if that makes sense. Fifty Feet Down could be relatively the same if the main characters were just friends, but the story would be vastly different if it wasn't a mystery. Therefore, it gets the mystery color instead of romance. Same with all of the I. S. Belle books. There's romance in them, but if you took out the romance it would still be pretty similar, but if you took out the horror it would be an incredibly different story.
So that's my 2024 book blanket!
#im so excited about this#its so fun#i read on the subway. at work. before bed. in the morning after waking up#i get so excited to knit new rows#and buy new books#buying new books is like a little gift for me#i put my entire tbr on an online spinny wheel so if i dont know what i want to read next i can spin the wheel and itll tell me#but sometimes im craving a specific book and ill just read that next#right now i have classics such as: stone butch blues. the perks of being a wallflower. playground. manhunt.#the second ari and dante book that ive been meaning to read for months#because i pre ordered that book and ive owned it since the day it came out. and this summer i reread the first one#so that i would know whats going on in the second one. but i haven't read the second one yet#i have a long ass tbr and i swear every day i add more#but i have a whole lifetime. and a whole year. to read them.#im gonna go knit the rows for fifty feet down now (an incredible book) and then probs read some more annie on my mind#have a great night everyone!!
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finally caved and bought myself a supported spindle (with a captive ring, even though all the captive ring ones were about double the price. but everyone describes them as having a soothing noise and i am unfortunately a huge sucker for good spinning noises). they’re made to order so it’ll be like. well over a month before it arrives which means i will probably have completely forgotten i bought it
#a surprise for january me :)#i like spinning supported on my pushkas but those all have the same width of spindle stick the entire length of it#meaning that it's much slower than any other form of spinning bc you can only spin these very short lengths before needing to wind on#was just watching a video of supported spinning on a russian spindle and the whole 'off the tip and winding onto a temporary cop' thing#looks soooo fast. and nice. and i want to try it.#esp bc ive been doing supported spinning in bed when i am in lots of pain but needing to raise my arm#kinda just adds to the pain. so looking forward to what will hopefully be a less painful supported spinning experience#and nicer sounding :D#already very fond of the noise of the pushkas in the ceramic bowls#spinning#supported spindle
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just in case it wasn't obvious what my stance on ai 'art' was lol...
#anti ai art#not art#i mean... i did just draw this in paint but it's not actually art lol#i know there's a version of this gping around on places like artstation but... i wanted to add my own spin on it#which ofc meant swearing lol#anyway ai art fucks over artists and all creative people ESPECIALLY when it's unregulated as it currently is#like... i literally saw a shitty mobile game ad this morning that had a blatant ai art image used in it...#like yh it's a shitty mobile game ad BUT the fact that there are already places where ai 'art' is taking over from a real artist#is v upsetting tbqh
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Translated the opening to Monkey King 2009 for my own brain-itch reasons.
戏妖怪玩魔鬼
Toying with demons, playing with monsters
金箍棒你平是非
With the Golden-Hooped Staff, you settle all dispute!
戏妖怪玩魔鬼
Toying with demons, playing with monsters
金箍棒你平是非
With the Golden-Hooped Staff, you settle all dispute!
火眼金晴看天下
With piercing eyes, see the whole of the world
眨眨眼不皱眉
Wink without a care
戏妖怪玩魔鬼
Toying with demons, playing with monsters
金箍棒你平是非
With the Golden-Hooped Staff, you settle all dispute!
火眼金晴看天下
With piercing eyes, see the whole of the world
眨眨眼不皱眉
Wink without a care
小小猴头大另类
This littlest monkey is a baffling sort
天上地下有口碑
Known across heaven and earth
手中如意是宝贝
Magic treasure in hand
天地之间我怕谁
"In all of Heaven and Earth, who do I fear?"
美猴王好完美
The Handsome Monkey King is perfect
花果山石生金辉
The stone of Flower Fruit Mountain birthed golden splendor
美猴王真俊美
The Handsome Monkey King has beauty!
美就美在有作为
Beauty is found in the accomplished.
天地之间我怕谁
"In all of Heaven and Earth, who do I fear?"
#'translated' - term used loosely#posted so I can look at it later and laugh at myself#mhw09 personal#头大另类 - my mortal enemy#I still don't know what the hell that's supposed to mean#'tiny monkey head-spinning/frustration-headache-inducing eccentric/strangeness' WHAT#went with 'baffling sort' because 'little headache-inducing freak of a monkey' is so needlessly hostile lol#anyway full disclosure I really want to add an “and” to connect the piercing eyes line with “wink without a care”#“with piercing eyes look upon all the world and then wink without a care”#because that's metal as hecks#not exactly what it says though so I resisted#also considered the more accurate “discerning eyes” but that sounds so mild-mannered#and the literal “fiery eyes and golden pupils” sounds cool but is a major mouthful#so#piercing it is#平是非 is also a little hard to get across#literally something like 'balances right and wrong'#'makes even right and wrong'#with a sort of...'suppress' connotation#a bit of 'I don't care who started it I'm going to finish it!' vibes#but ~literary~#I'm sure there's a better and more accurate way to deal with that but I dunno what it is#anyway this was good studying for the day I'm done now
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on one hand it's a relief i don't have a fuckton of class work to do this week but on the other i already know my procrastinating ass is playing a dangerous game with such circumstances 😭
#my method for classwork is to just get that shit done as quickly as i can so i can have as much time as i want to do whatever#i usually get all of it done by fridays#my lowest grade is a 95% in one of my classes and i hope it stays that way#i have 100%s in my other classes#i'm trying to savor these grades while i still can. i just make sure i turn in my assignments so even if i do mess up it won't#do too much damage#had to continue in another tag because i almost reached the character limit#i can't believe it's already going to be october in a few days. that means it'll be two months until finals week#speaking of october i have no idea what the fuck i'm gonna be for halloween which is rare in my case#i might be a vampire (might seem like a safe option but i'll add my own spin to it)#one bc i need to get more adhesive glue for the fangs i have. i have GOT to get my hands on some more fangs as well#that sounds so wild out of context#whenever i get the money to i might consider getting myself permanent fangs#the lowest cost for them is around $2k though 😔#*laments not having the ability to materialize a pair of sick ass fangs at my will*#i can throw in some horns and a tail while i'm at it too#what's cookin' in hell's kitchen?
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Not Done Yet - Wriothesley
Pairing: Wriothesley x f! reader (reader has a pussy + uses fem pronouns)
Genre: smut/NSFW
Word Count: 2.1k
Summary: your boyfriend will do anything to keep you from moving to the Overworld
CW: dubcon, breeding, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, overstimulation, fingering, wall sex, dry humping, doggystyle, mating press, lots of dirty talk, praise + degradation, use of ‘good girl’, dom! Wriothesley, semi feral wriothesley , possessiveness, arguing
hello welcome to this episode of kinktober where the Wriothesley brainrot continues. the minute I met this man in game it was just absolutely over for me and I had SO many thoughts of him and ugh. hope you guys like it <3
Kinktober Masterlist
“You want to do what?”
It’s hard not to cower under your boyfriend’s gaze when his eyes have become so chilly. His voice has taken on an angry edge, a ball of electricity forming in your tummy.
You swallow hard and point your chin. “I want to move.”
He raises an eyebrow at you, taking a step closer. It’s times like these that you realize how much bigger he is than you, how much more powerful he is than you. The air takes on a bitter cold.
“Away from here, I mean,” you add, turning your gaze to the dangling chandelier of his office and the warm light it emits.
“To the Overworld. You want to move to the Overworld and abandon the life you have here.” His voice booms, “you have a home here, y/n. You have me here. And you want to throw it all away so you can work like a dog until the day you die?”
You scoff. “So I can have a real life, Wriothesley. A chance at some normalcy. To get a normal job and have normal food and—and have a family.”
He looks taken aback at your final sentence. The gears in his head turn, slowly processing this. You’ve never talked about having kids before, not with him. Sure, you’re not always the most careful about using protection, but he never thought that would be something that you want.
He steps forward again, backing you up only inches from the wall. He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, “you’re not leaving me. You can’t.”
You shiver, though you’re not sure if it’s from the cold air or from the dark look in his eyes. You stare at him defiantly, though every instinct tells you to look away from him.
You can see your breath when you speak. “I can and I will.”
Wrong answer.
In an instant, he has you pinned against the wall, one hand with a bruising grip on your hip, the other snaking around your throat.
His eyes darken as he smashes his lips against yours. He catches your bottom lip between his teeth, the sudden pain making you gasp. He slips his tongue between your lips and you suck instinctually.
He slides his hand down from your hip and under your thigh, lifting it up to his side. He thrusts you against the wall, groaning into your mouth. You whine against him, raising your leg higher to give the growing bulge in his pants easier access to your aching core.
“Why would you ever wanna leave this, hm?”
His words snap you out of your trance, your hands trailing up to his chest to shove him off of you. Heat surges through your body, your head spinning as if the world is rocking beneath you.
You take a deep breath and gather your bearings. “We’re not done arguing, Wriothesley.”
“I am,” he pushes you against the wall, using his size to his advantage. He presses himself against your back so that you can feel every twitch of his muscles, every rise and fall of his chest.
His hands go to your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh. He grinds himself against you, hard bulge nestling between your legs.
He digs his teeth into your neck, sharp canines grazing the sensitive skin. He gives a rough, playful thrust, and a moan slips out between your lips. You squeeze your eyes shut, the heat of embarrassment taking over.
He gently sucks at the spot he just bit. “That’s what I thought,” he says in that familiar, commanding voice—the one he uses to break up prison riots, or convince you to let him chain you to the bed.
He slips a hand between your legs to cup your throbbing core, feeling the heat overflowing from your pussy. Another whine slips out, your knees shaking in anticipation, threatening to give out.
He tightens his grip on your hip to hold you still, his other hand furiously rubbing your clit through the fabric of your pants. You arch your back, letting your knees spread apart to give him easier access. He pulls his hand away and smacks your ass, laughing at the soft moan it elicits.
He wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you back to rub against his cock. You brace yourself against the wall with your hands, leaning forwards with your hand down. He thrusts against you, hard cock grinding against the fabric of his own jeans.
His other hand slips into the waistband of your pants, trailing down to your soaking panties. He runs a finger along your slit, “god, you’re absolutely dripping.”
You hide your face in your arm against the wall, shaking your head in shame. Wriothesley laughs, pushing his hand into your panties and running it between your lips. You look so cute when you’re writhing beneath him and hiding your face. He can’t wait to see how cute you’ll look when he has your eyes rolling back.
He rubs steady circles on your clit, your pussy only gushing with more slick as he touches you. You push back against him with every moan, rubbing your ass onto his aching hard on.
He leans over you, pressing himself against you completely. His lips hover just below your ear, “hm, pretty girl. So nice and wet.”
He dips a finger inside of you, just barely prodding your entrance with the thick tip. Shockwaves rush through you, your hips jutting out with a mind of their own, your pussy clamping down around him. He pushes it in up to the hilt, your gummy walls clamping around his thick finger.
He curls it inside of you and watches you fall apart around him, a slutty mess just from one of his fingers. He pushes another inside, working you open. Your arms shake against the wall, threatening to give in and make you face plant against it.
There’s a hot pressure building in your stomach, heating up more and more by the second. Your thighs quiver on either side of his arm, your arms bend inwards, and suddenly you pitch forwards.
Wriothesley anticipates your fall, keeping his arm tightly around your waist. He holds you up with one arm while finger fucking you with the other. He continues pumping his fingers inside of you, warm juices dripping out of you and coating his knuckles. He can feel you open up around him, the vice grip you had around his digits finally loosening.
He curls his fingers inside of you one final time, hitting that soft spot within your walls. You cum violently, muscles spasming against your will. Your whole body shudders and you collapse completely into his arms. You keep your eyes closed, trying to regain control of your senses as the waves of your orgasm crash over you.
When you finally open your eyes, you’re laying on his bed with your clothes off. Wriothesley stands at the end of the bed, also naked and stroking his hard cock. The dark lighting of the bedroom only makes him look more defined, the contours of his abs and arms making you drool.
He kneels on the bed in front of you, fisting his cock. You find yourself staring at the bulge of his biceps, the contour of his abs, the precum dripping down the tip of his cock. You’re barely aware that he’s propping you up on your knees, running his hands over the swell of your ass.
He dips a finger into your puffy pussy. You shudder from the sensitivity, your walls fluttering around his finger.
He squeezes your ass and pulls his finger out. “Hm, I think you’re ready.”
“Ready?” You ask weakly, your face pressed into his pillows.
He rubs his cock through your folds, collecting all of your slick onto his tip. “Ready for me to fuck you,” he says, lining his tip up with your entrance. “Ready for me to ruin you.”
His words send a chill up your spine, the undertone of his voice something entirely foreign to you. You have no time to ponder what it means before he’s pushing his cock inside of you.
No matter how many times he fucks you, no matter how long he prepares you for, it’s always a stretch. He’s so big that he fills you completely, the head of his cock pressing against that spot inside of you perfectly. He parts your walls around him, an almost painful stretch.
He keeps a hand on your hip, using it as leverage as he pulls out and drives himself into you. He keeps a desperate, brutal pace, bottoming out with every thrust. The curve of his cock has him rubbing against your walls, pressing into your g-spot with every shift of his hips. His balls smack against your pussy, shining with your juices.
His hand digs in hard enough to bruise, the other reaching around to rub your clit. “So tight,” he groans, “ ‘s like your pussy never wants me to leave.”
You whine, bending your back and allowing him a better angle. He slams into you roughly, knocking all of the breath out of your lungs with the impact of his hips against yours.
His thrusts start to get sloppier, his orgasm building right along with yours. He pulls you up so that your back is flush with his, his cock getting dangerously close to your cervix.
“Fuck,” he grunts, kissing at your neck, “fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
“M-me too!”
He pounds into you at a desperate pace. “G-gonna cum inside you,” he groans. “Gonna fuckin’ cum in you, cum right inside that little womb of yours.”
“Wrio~”
He shoved you forwards. “Gonna breed this pussy, hm? Then you’ll have to stay with me—fuck.”
His cock twitches inside of you as he bottoms out for the last time, holding you flush to his thighs as hot ropes of cum fill you up. He sucks and bites at your neck as he finishes cumming inside of you, letting you fall onto your face against the bed.
He keeps his cock inside of you, effectively plugging you with his cum. He gives you no time to recover before he’s flipping you into your back, throwing your legs over his shoulders.
“Wrio—it’s too much!”
He smirks at you, something feral behind those crystalline eyes. “You’re not going anywhere,” he grunts, thrusting into you. “Not until you’re nice and full.”
You’re surprised that he manages to keep the pace he does, fucking his cum back into you with renewed vigour. He leans over you, giving himself better access to slam into your pussy. You cry out with every thrust, raking your nails down his back.
It’s so sensitive, it’s too much, but fuck, does it feel so good. “T-too deep,” you whine, your own words sounding foreign and far away to you. “Too big.”
He laughs, “but you’re taking it so well, sweetheart. And doesn’t it feel so good?”
You nod, babbling incoherently into his ear. Sweat beads down your temples, tears coat your lashes. Your skin takes on a feverish sheen, but you don’t care. All you care about is the feeling of his cock slamming into you and how his arms flex with every thrust.
His thrusts start to get sloppy, his pace slowing down to a steady rhythm. He lets himself collapse on top of you, effectively folding you in half.
“Gonna fill you up,” he groans. “Gonna fucking breed you and keep you nice and full. Make you my little whore and keep you here with me.”
You whine, black spots starting to crowd your vision. His thrusts are slow and deep now, his hips moving into you brutally.
“You’d like that, hm? You said you wanted a family,” he bottoms out inside of you, his cum flooding your pussy. “I’m just giving you what you asked for.”
The combination of his cum and his cock inside of you has you feeling so full it almost hurts. Your senses have dulled, all of your thoughts of leaving having been fucked away.
Wriothesley lays on top of you, bowing his head into your shoulder. His dark hair tickles your collar bone, his lips pressing against the flushed skin of your chest.
“Did so well for me,” he mumbles into your skin, “such a good girl.”
You can only nod, running your fingers through his hair to try and ground yourself. You lay there in silence for a while—just him breathing into your chest and you stroking his hair.
After a while, he props himself up. That same soft look has returned to his eyes, “you’re not really going to leave, right?”
It’s posed like a question but sounds more like a plea. His cock is still inside of you, more and more cum running out as it’s softened. You still feel dizzy from the overstimulation, but looking at him now, you don’t see how you could possibly leave.
“No,” you say quietly. “I’m not going to leave.”
#wriothesley#wriothesley x y/n#wriothesley x you#wriothesley genshin#wriothesley x reader#genshin impact#wriothesley smut#genshin smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#smut#wriothesley genshin smut
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KISS STAINS • S. REID X READER
fluff; kissing; reader wears a red lipstick; gn reader; spencer is down horrendous; ~900 words
“Baby,” you call to where Spencer sits in the living room, working on a puzzle you bought him. “Can you come here for a sec?”
He hums an assent, just barely loud enough for you to hear and appears a minute later. “Hi, honey,” he whispers, leaning over and down to kiss you before straightening back up. “What’s up?”
You smile up at him and wave a lipstick tube. His brows furrow before raising in recognition as you pull the cap off.
“Can you put it on me and tell me what you think of the color on me?” You pout your lips at him and tilt your head expectantly.
He swallows and carefully grabs the lipstick, studying your features. “Yeah.” He breathes out the answer, lightly gripping your chin with his free hand to tilt your face up to him.
Spencer is slow and delicate as he spins up the lipstick and carefully lines your lips on the edges before filling the middle with smooth swipes.
“How do you know how to put a red lip on?” You ask, trying to keep from sounding too pouty, as he pulls back slightly and studies your features.
“Watched Elle and Emily do it for years,” he mumbles. “Especially when we were out at bars and stuff, how they reapplied. And I’ve looked up how to put on and remove every type of makeup for you in case you ever ask.” He adds the last part quietly and your smile overtakes your face.
Spencer nods. “You look gorgeous. It suits you.”
You beam and tug him down to sit next to you, laughing at the way he stumbles and blinks, bewildered.
He’s wearing a loosely-done white button-up, gorgeous and slightly too sheer for him to ever wear out.
“Good. It’ll look good on you, too.”
You can practically see the question marks around his head.
“You’re putting it on me?” He mumbles. “Why?”
“Not the traditional way…” you whisper before pressing a kiss on his cheek, leaving a wet kiss mark as the satin of the lipstick has yet to dry down.
He flinches at the sensation. “Feels weird.”
“But it looks so pretty. You look pretty, Spence. Let me? You can take it off right after I get a photo.”
His brow furrows, but his complaint hesitates on his tongue as you kiss the exposed skin of his chest and leave another mark. “Just don’t send it to anyone.”
“Of course,” you whisper, kissing his other cheek, right where his dimples are. “Just for me.”
Spencer’s face is burning under your lips as you leave more marks on him, his chest flushed red when you pull back to study your work.
You smile at him and he smiles back before gasping as you kiss right next to his mouth, and he melts into you, hands finally moving to hold you.
“Gimme a real one,” he whispers, eyes sparkling with boyish want as he voices the request. “Like you mean it.”
With a soft exhaled laugh, you oblige, tilting his chin up and studying the youthful excitement and your marks all over his face before slotting your lips to his. He lets out a sigh of relief, immediately finding a rhythm in tandem with yours.
He tastes like his sugary coffee and him, familiar and perfect enough to empty your head of any thoughts that aren’t about his kiss and taste.
Spencer tilts his head and presses deeper, surging up to press closer to you.
When you pull back for air, he whines and follows you, fingers twitching in frustration as he tries to keep you pinned to his body.
“The— the photo.” You remind him, dazed and with skin just as hot as his. “Then we can take it off and I’ll kiss you as much as you want. Real ones.”
Spencer nods and lets you pose him, cheeks burning on the peaks as you snap the picture. He flinches when you first put the cold make-up wipe to his cheek, the temperature too starkly different, but he melts into you as you gently sweep over and remove each stain — except the one on his lips.
“You missed a spot, honey,” he tells you, looking up curiously as he swipes his tongue over his lips. You shake your head, and his brows raise. “No?”
“It’ll get lipstick on it again anyways,” you murmur as you finally sink down onto him and kiss him again. His eager response makes you smile into it, threading your fingers into hair at the nape of his neck.
Spencer sighs and drops his forehead to your shoulder after a few minutes, letting you play with his hair as he steadies his breathing. “Did you know that a red lip—”
You frown. There were statistics about red lips?
“Is my favorite on you?”
Nevermind. You beam at him. “Really?”
“Really.” Spencer tells you, kissing your collarbone gently. “It drives me crazy.”
“Well, now you’ve given me too much power. I can wear it and have you do whatever I want…”
“I’d do anything you want anyways,” Spencer mumbles, almost defeatedly. “You don’t need the lipstick for me to find you breathtaking and lose all sense.”
You smile, tugging his hair so he looks up at you, lashes fluttering and eyes soft from where he rests. “All sense?”
Spencer swallows. “Yeah. I feel like I forget everything I know unless it’s related to you.”
not a want to do this and date him but a need
#my works#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid scenario#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid imagine
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We’re Adopted?!?
When Bruce’s kids end up on the Watchtower due to a set of unforeseen circumstances, Jason first tries to get the League to believe that they’re all biologically related to Bruce. He tries to avoid having Jason give everyone a sex talk by reminding him that he’s adopted. This leads to all his kids pretending that this is the first time they’ve heard of it, much to the horror of the League and the exasperation of Bruce.
Based on this post.
On AO3.
Ships: none
Warnings: none
~~~~
It finally happened. After years of successfully keeping the League from finding out about all the kids he has, they’ve finally met. And in the most dramatic way too. In a way it’s very suited for their family, but that is a detail Bruce had hoped to keep from the League.
However, it happens anyway and now his two teams have met.
They’re sitting in the common area of the Watchtower when the Zeta-Tube suddenly whirs to life and the Batmobile comes crashing into the area. It spins to a stop as if it had been in the middle of a chase, before the teleporter snatched them off the streets.
Bruce gets out of his chair and makes his way over. He isn’t too worried about them, since they’re here and while that might have meant danger before, they are safe with him now. If one of them had been terribly injured or left behind, they would be screaming and yelling already and that isn’t happening yet.
His eyes meet Tim’s, who is standing next to the car, his costume a little singed, hair askew and looking a little worse for wear. Apologetically he greets: “Hi, Justice League, promise we have a good reason to be here.”
For Bruce, this is quite normal chaos and these are his kids, but he notices that the Justice League has formed a defensive barrier around the Batmobile. They perceive his kids as a threat. It’s so absurd that he is quiet for a moment.
In that moment, Superman steps forward and demands to know: “Who are you and how did you get up here?”
“With a car no less,” Hal adds, sounding a little impressed, which doesn’t make Bruce smug in the slightest, no sir.
He is about to tell everyone to stand down when the doors of the car open and his kids come spilling out. It’s a bit of a car clown moment with how many vigilantes fit inside.
Dick nearly falls out of the side, with Damian following after him. Both of them have soot in their hair and scratches on their faces.
A singed Jason stumbling out on the other side as he loudly complains: “This is the last time we’re letting Spoiler drive.”
Steph’s costume is a little flame tattered too as she swings open the driving side and says: “I’d like to see you do better, asshole. At least it wasn’t like Signal’s first driving attempt.”
“Hey,” Duke exclaims, coming out of the car after Jason, looking a little banged up. “Just because I didn’t know where the missiles were, doesn’t mean it was terrible.”
“I didn’t eject anyone,” Steph pouts.
“Yes, you did!” Duke exclaims. “You very much did.”
“Well, not by accident,” Steph argues. “It was part of the plan.”
The other front door is now open and Cass is next to him. He puts an arm around her and pulls her into his cape. Then he decides to step in, because it seems the League doesn’t know what to do when they’re not viewed as an authority.
“What happened?” he asks.
Six heads snap his way, as if his kids had forgotten where they were. It wouldn’t be the first time, so he doesn’t even bother rolling his eyes.
Tim reports: “The Riddler broke out of Arkham, along with like a bunch of b-rate villains. They caused havoc, but we rounded them all up. Riddler took the time it took us to round them up to set up his trap. He went with a fire theme.”
“Is he contained now?” Bruce asks, a little concerned.
“Yeah, no problem, B, we got ‘em,” Steph assures him casually with a thumbs up.
“Sorry, uhm, excuse me, Batman, do you know these people?” Clark asks in that awkward, polite way of his.
Bruce contemplates for a second what he should answer. Then decides that he wants to know what happened and doesn’t want to deal with questions. So he just says: “My associates. Now report, how did you end up here?”
“Associates,” Jason snorts.
However, he is ignored by his siblings as Damian reports: “We have caught the Riddler, however we did so without solving the last of his riddles. So, he sprang his trap after we took him down and we became the target of some missiles.”
“Oh my god, are you okay?” one of the League members exclaims under their breath.
“Tt, of course we’re okay,” Damian spits back. “Unlike you, we have been trained.”
“And we learned our lesson; always solve all of Riddler’s riddles,” Steph grins, giving them all a thumbs up.
“I already said that, but who listens to Red Robin? Nobody,” Tim complains.
Before it can turn into a squabble fest again, Bruce clears his throat and Dick jumps in to get them back on track, explaining: “We tried to get away in the Batmobile, but we couldn’t outrun it forever. So we decided the best way to escape was to use the Zeta-Tube connection.”
“It was great, Spoiler sent replacement flying so he could put in the code,” Jason laughs.
“I wanted to beam us to the Cave, but with the amount of time we had, just taking us to the most recently used coordinates was smarter,” Tim explains. He checks his arm computer then says: “The chatter on the police coms is that the missile made impact where we disappeared. No one was in the area when it went off, but there is property damage. And a few of the new recruits are convinced we’re supernatural, since none of our remains are being found.”
That last bit gets a few laughs from the assembled vigilantes. Most of Gotham PD have resigned themselves to the fact that the protectors of Gotham are humans, who seemingly pull of the impossible from time to time.
However, there are always newer members, who come up with great conspiracies about how they aren’t human and that’s why they pull it off. Bruce knows that it’s a bit of a game between his kids to see who can get them to believe the weirdest shit about them.
So, he just lets them have the moment of amusement after what must have been a highly tense moment.
Then he asks: “Where is Bluebird?” since he hasn’t seen Harper among the crowd, which is weird, because she’s on the night shift, while Duke is on the day shift.
“She the one, who figured out where Riddler was and caught him,” Dick says proudly. “She was escorting him to Arkham when she noticed he was being off. Without her we would’ve never made it to the Batmobile on time.”
Bruce makes a mental note to thank her for saving his other kids when he sees her.
“We also let Oracle know we’re okay, so she can inform her and Batwoman when she gets back from her mission, just in case she saw the news,” Dick goes on.
“Wait,” they get interrupted by Hal. “How many more heroes are you going to pull out of your sleeve? What happened to Mr. I Work alone? Am I being crazy here? Why are you all just standing there?”
Clark says: “Well, it’s obvious Batman knows these people and they do not seem like a threat to us, so I was going to wait until they’d given a report before demanding answers.”
“And we will demand answers, Batman,” Diana adds, making Bruce swallow a little. “We are your friends, we hoped there would be some trust there. You seem to have a whole different team of warriors. That is something you share.”
“Don’t mind, B, he just comes with permanently built in paranoia, it’s nothing against you,” Dick tells them.
In the background, Jason snorts: “Did you hear that guys? We’re his team of warriors. His associates.”
Damian huffs at that: “These imbeciles obviously do not know what they are on about and I refuse to be referred to as such, when I am the blood son.”
“I don’t know, Robin,” Steph laughs. “It almost starts to feel like he cares. I mean, he obviously has been bragging about us.”
“He has not spoken a word about us,” Damian exclaims.
In the background, Bruce can feel a headache coming. He has tried to keep his kids away from the League for their own safety. They can’t use his kids against him, should they become compromised, if they don’t know they exist.
However, they do know now and not only that, it seems like his kids are here to cause trouble on purpose now that they finally get to meet, who they refer to as, ‘his work friends AKA the only friends he has’. Delightful.
Indeed, the League has picked up on the words Jason set Damian up for, because Hal repeats: “Blood son?”
And Clark frowns: “They do seem quite young.”
“Batman, are you employing babes to protect Gotham with you?” Diana exclaims in horror.
“I am highly trained, who dares to call me a baby,” Damian protests immediately and while his siblings would usually laugh at him, they now also feel offended.
All of them have had to defend their age to people, including Bruce. They don’t like being questioned. So all of them are falling over themselves to defend their position as protectors of Gotham.
Bruce decides to help them, explaining: “There are more teen heroes, most of you have or had a sidekick. These vigilantes keep each other safe, they have the safety of back up and I also provide good gear. They’re not running around without a clue of what to do.”
“Ahww, I knew you cared, old man,” Steph coos, while Cass taps a genuine thank you in Morse code on his arm.
“Batman, I appreciate that you look out of them, but most sidekicks have had superpowers that are related to one of the heroes and sought out a mentor to help,” Clark says gently. “You have no powers, where did you get these kids?”
And in hindsight, he should have known better than to hesitate. However, at the times, he does, because the circus, the streets, the neighbor’s and some villains, are not really good answers to that question, no matter how true. And he doesn’t know if he wants to explain.
Still, he has to admit that he melts slightly when Cass speaks up to say: “His kids.”
Plus, it’s kind of funny how most League member jump out of their skin at the sudden voice, since none of them had spotted Cass before. Not even those with superhuman senses. His daughter is so talented.
Arguably the funniest reaction is Hal, who shrieks: “Where the fuck did you get these kids, Spooky!” as he violently startles backwards.
However, Jason jumps on the opportunity, sending Bruce a shit eating grin before he does (he might still be wearing the helmet, but Bruce knows him). He says: “Well, when two people love each other very much, they-”
No, just no. Absolutely not.
The League already thinks him to be a bit of a weirdo, who is steeped in paranoia. They respect him, but they’re always a little wary of him too (which is good in a way, he doesn’t want them close to his secret identity with the threat they could pose). Still, he doesn’t want them to think he practically bred an army of shadow-y vigilantes to protect Gotham. He’d never live it down.
“Hood,” he quickly cuts Jason off, before he can continue with his nonsense. Then he tiredly reminds him: “You’re adopted.”
“WHAT!” Jason shrieks, ripping his helmet off to reveal a shocked and betrayed face even with his domino mask. “How could you keep that from me?”
It seems like everyone needs a second to recover and process after the outburst. However, Jason is gaining steam and dramatically barrels on: “For years. Years! I lived with you, you fed me, you cared for me. You are my dad. At least you were. Was that all a lie? Some ruse? How- Why- I deserved to know.”
Bruce is shocked, unable to form words. His relationship with Jason has been rough, though getting better. It’s still tentative, though, so to hear Jason refer to him as dad throws him off in one of the best ways. Until he realizes Jason is fucking with him.
Even then, it is kind of nice that Jason is messing with him. When he looks, he sees that Jason is having fun under the mask of betrayal. It doesn’t have a bitter undertone, like it would have a few months ago. Instead, it feels a little like all the times Jason messed with him in front of Commissioner Gordon, back when he was Robin.
So, later Bruce will cut himself some slack for basking in that feeling for long enough that the others catch on and join in.
It starts with Steph, who has never claimed him as her father a day in his life, but will always be committed to a bit. She sniffles: “I can’t believe you’d lie to our brother like that. Soon you’ll tell us we’re all adopted.”
“Spoiler,” Bruce warns, hoping to deter anyone else from joining in.
That doesn’t happen, instead, Dick pulls Duke into a hug and exclaims: “Yeah, next you’ll tell us Signal here isn’t our half brother, like you didn’t leave his mother at the altar.” He narrows his eyes and adds: “I was the flower boy too, I can’t believe you did that to her.”
He sees Duke’s calculating gaze, flitting between Dick and himself and knows it’s only a matter of time before he picks a side, so he grunts: “Signal, don’t-”
“She talked about it until her death. Don’t tell me she made it up,” Duke suddenly says, picking the side of his siblings. Bruce would be more glad about him getting along with them, if it weren’t for the fact that in joining him, he left Bruce.
“You monster,” Jason butts back in again, not having had the spotlight in too long. “Look what you’ve done. You can’t just drop something like that on us. You can’t just pull the rug out from under us. Adopted. Or am I the only one? Huh? Is that it? Are all of them your real kids except for me?”
It’s a little too close to home, so Bruce stumbles: “No, of course, you’re always my kid. But this isn’t news to you. To any of you.”
“So we are all adopted?” Tim shrieks, stumbling forwards to clutch Bruce’s arm. “Those people you took me away from, were they my real parents? Did you lie to me?”
And this is just unfair. They’re not allowed to gang up on him like this and be dramatic. They know he doesn’t know what to do when they get like this. He gave them a home, he kept them as safe as he could, he loves them. What has he done to deserve this?
Dick and Duke are still embracing each other and Bruce is pretty sure Dick is weeping. Steph is definitely fake crying, while Jason is consoling her. Tim is still clutching his one arm, babbling about being taken from his parents.
Cass is his favorite right now, because she isn’t playing along with her sibling, just quietly huddling into his side. Damian would share the spot, but Bruce knows that the only reason he isn’t playing along, is because he doesn’t know what their game is and how he can use it to his advantage.
Indeed, he joins in – though not entirely purposefully – because he asks: “Father, I am your true son right? I am the blood son, not these imbeciles.”
Jason is definitely hiding a snort as a sob and in that moment, Bruce is tempted to disown Damian, just so he doesn’t have to deal with all this.
He can see how shocked the Justice League is, their eyes wide with horror, none of them having truly recovered at the sudden appearance at a gaggle of kids, who are now seemingly breaking down over the surprise news of being adopted.
He should’ve just let Jason give the League a sex talk.
So, he is tempted to not recognize Damian as his own, however, he knows how much Damian values his heritage and how insecure he is about his spot in the family. And he does look genuinely worried about what’s happening. So, Bruce has to sigh and reward the vulnerability that he shows with compassion, saying: “Yes, Robin.”
Jason lets out a pained groan and says: “So it is true? We really are adopted?” then breaks down crying. It’s almost impressive how well he can sob on demand. How well all of them can, Bruce wonders when they learned that and who taught them that.
The League, meanwhile has also apparently reached their limits and Hal suddenly explodes: “Fucking hell, Bats. Is that how you’re telling them that? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Around him all the others start to nod in agreement and Bruce knows that some of those shaking shoulders of his kids aren’t sobs but laughter at this point. He wonders if it’s wrong to return any of them, despite knowing that he would never give any of them up, even with all the gray hairs they’re giving him.
He does think about it though, especially when Clark cautiously says: “It seems unnecessarily cruel, Batman. They’ve just been chased through the streets by missiles. You could have waited.”
“Yes, it is very cruel,” Diana agrees. “And I do not know you to be cruel.”
Usually, Bruce has an image to maintain, but that image includes him working alone and having no sense of humor or humanity, so obviously it’s incorrect. Besides, any reputation he might have had has just been ruined by his kids. He doesn’t have to take this judgment from his friends.
So, he throws his hands up and, bordering on a whine, says: “I’m not cruel. They all know they’re adopted. All of them were over nine when it happened. Hell, not even all of them are adopted. Not all of them wanted to be. They know! They’re just messing with me.”
It’s quiet after his outburst.
Both the League and his kids blink for a few times. It’s clear that the League doesn’t know what to believe, but his kids are luckily done with the chaos. Though, Bruce doesn’t know if he’s happy with that when he sees some of their faces morph into grins.
Dick decides to put him out of his misery first, letting go of Duke to skip forwards and sling an arm around Bruce, which he grudgingly allows. He never says no to hugs from his kids, no matter what stunt they’ve just pulled.
“He’s right,” Dick smiles at everyone. Then he jokingly tugs on one of the ears on his cowl – something he has done since his early days as Robin – as he teases: “He didn’t mind. Right, B? You are a softie under there.”
“Who cares if he minds,” Jason says loudly. “That was hilarious, did you see everyone’s faces when replacement told them he’d stolen him out of his home. Golden. I’m gonna ask O for that footage the second we get back.”
Now the League is looking at them with even more confusion. Unsure of what to do now.
Bruce wants to let them suffer, but he also doesn’t want to give his kids room to do something else to embarrass him. So, he takes the reigns saying: “Just to clear it all up; this is Nightwing, my oldest.”
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” Dick gives the League a bright smile.
“My second or third oldest – we’re not sure – Red Hood,” Bruce continues on, gesturing to Jason, who just gives them a salute. “And, again, the second or third oldest, Black Bat.” She waves at them, startling some again, since they’d forgotten she was there. Hm, they might have to do another stealth and awareness training day.
“This is Spoiler, she is not one of mine technically,” he continues on introducing everyone there.
Steph grins at all of them and says: “I eat his food and steal his money, but I’m not having him sign shit. All of the perks, none of the accountability.”
“And how you remind me of that,” Bruce sighs, before gesturing to Tim and saying: “This is Red Robin, my fourth kid. He is adopted, but also emancipated. And I did not steal him away from his parents.”
“Technically, he did, because they were kinda shitty, but only legally when they died,” Tim corrects, which is not necessary and Bruce will be answering questions about that for months. Judging by the smug look on his face, Tim knows.
Deciding not to engage for now, he moves on to Duke. “This is Signal, he is my ward. He normally works the day shift.”
“Hello,” Duke squeaks awkwardly.
“And this is Robin, he is the youngest,” Bruce finishes his introductions.
“I am the blood son of the Bat and the one true heir,” Damian exclaims proudly.
“Yeah, yeah, we know, brat,” Jason rolls his eyes. “You were once B’s sperm. Whoop-die-doo.”
Multiple faces contort at that, with Tim and Steph both exclaiming how gross that is and how he didn’t have to phrase it like that and how they never want to hear about Bruce’s sex life ever again in any way, shape, or form.
Hal comments: “Wait, you actually have a kid?”
Bruce fights the urge to facepalm as he deadpans: “Just a second ago, you were willing to believe I had seven or more, why do you seem surprised?”
That renders Hal speechless, which is good, because Bruce doesn’t want to be here anymore. He wants to check up properly on his kids, check up on Gotham, and be as far away from the League and their questions as he can.
So, he uses the silence to says: “Now, as interesting as this has all been, we are going home. I have a city to check on and kids to ground.”
All around him protests start up about how he either has no power over them and can’t ground them or that they’re too mature and well trained fro childish things such as grounding. But Bruce is great at tuning them out when needs must, so he types in the last of the Batcave coordinates and lets the Zeta-Tube take them home.
~~
A/N:
I love coming up with convoluted reasons of why the batfam would be in the Watchtower lmao
Also Alfred totally taught them to cry on command, knowing they would use it for evil <3
#rr writing#batfam#batfamily#batman#good parent bruce wayne#bruce wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#tim drake#duke thomas#damian wayne#justice league of america#justice league#jla#jl#superman#hal jordan#wonder woman#dc#dc comics
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＃LOVE AND DEEPSPACE !! ♡ — HOW I CRAVE YOU IN THE MORNIN' (RAFAYEL X READER).
#. synopsis! — rafayel doesn't really like mornings, but heaven knows he likes you .
#. characters! — rafayel.
#. warnings! — none .
#. word count! — 1.3k .
#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @hhoneypop (moodboards) .
#. others! — navigation & masterlist .
Rafayel has never been a morning person. He likes to watch the occasional sunrise if he wakes naturally to catch it, but heaven knows he’s loath to pull himself out of bed before he feels good and ready. You, on the other hand, don’t tend to have the luxury of sleeping in until whenever you please. The life of a Deepspace Hunter often requires early starts, and now that you’ve woven your life so tightly between the threads of Rafayel’s, he’s seldom excluded from the harsh ring of your alarm coercing you out of bed, out of your dreams of sweet nothings, and into the real world (which is often much less pretty.)
You don’t even have to open your eyes to know that Rafayel is already pouting at the mere thought of your departure, and your suspicions are confirmed when he snakes his arms around your waist, groaning.
“Baby,” he mutters, “don’t go, the bed gets so cold when you leave.”
You sigh.
“Have to,” you murmur, still half asleep. “Work.”
“Call in sick.”
“I’m not sick,” you answer, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “You know my work is important for more reasons than one, Rafayel.”
“I do know,” he sighs, though it’s clear he’s less than happy about agreeing.
In fairness, you’re not particularly happy about this either. You love your job, worked hard to get it and climb the ranks within it, but man, sometimes you wish it were possible to pay the bills with currency earned cuddling in bed with the man nuzzling into your neck like a kitten.
“Then don’t ask me to call in sick,” you laugh, turning your head to press a soft kiss to his warm temple.
He groans again, though you know he appreciates the affection.
Gently and with great reluctance, you pull yourself from Rafayel’s embrace, though you can’t help but take a moment to marvel at the way early morning rays of light filter through the curtains, playing on his delicate features. His eyes like marbled sunsets lazily find their way to you, still heavy with sleep, peering up at you in a mixture of love and discontent.
“You’re a menace to my sleeping schedule,” he grumbles playfully.
“Consider it payback for all the nights you’ve kept me up too late,” you answer jokingly, shrugging your shoulders.
“I’ll have you know, keeping you up at night is a vital part of our relationship,” he pouts, but there’s an unmistakable glint of mischeviousness in his tired gaze.
You giggle, knowing he’s joking (at least in part.)
“I’ll make it up to you,” you move closer, cupping his cheeks in your hands and leaning down to peck his lips. “Promise.”
“You better,” he mutters.
“Don’t I always?” You inquire, fingers feathering through his soft hair.
“Yeah,” he acknowledges in a semi-rare moment of complete sincerity from the man who often goes through the world half-wittingly. “You do.”
You smile, soft and warm, leaning in for another lingering kiss, savoring the warmth and familiarity of Rafayel’s touch. His arms reach up, wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer, as if he’s hesitant to let go.
“Be safe, okay?” He says.
“Always,” you nod.
Before, you might have mistaken his concern for a lack of trust in your abilities, but you’re well past the point of pointless misunderstandings. Rafayel may be an artist, and he might spin his words like golden threads from time to time, making you read between the lines, but your sincerest assessment of the moment tells you he’s said exactly what he means. He wants you to be safe, wants you to come home in one piece, and you let him steal another quick kiss before standing upright.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” you add, hoping it might soften the blow of your departure.
His playful pout returns.
“You seem to doubt the depth of my ability to lament over your absence,” he states.
“I don’t doubt it at all, but I’d rather you find more enjoyable ways to spend your day,” you laugh.
He sighs dramatically.
“Bring back something interesting from your adventure,” he suggests, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. “Maybe something I can crush up, turn into paint.”
“Need I remind you what happened the last time you used an oddly sourced item for pigment?” You ask incredilously.
Rafayel rolls his eyes.
“Need I remind you that that’s precisely how we met?” He counters.
“Still,” you sigh, “I’d much prefer you not be endangered by your paint. Stick with oils and acrylics for a while. For my peace of mind.”
“Is that concern I detect from you, my little hunter?” Rafayel grins.
“Of course it is,” you reply honestly. “You might be pretentious and obnoxious, but I love you. I’d never want you in harm’s way.”
His teasing smirk softens to a genuine smile at your sincerity, and he stands, taking a moment to stretch before reaching out to caress the curve of your jaw with the top of his index finger.
“Obnoxious and pretentious, huh?” He chuckles lightly. “Thank you for the glowing evaluation of my character, darling. But, because I do happen to love you as well, I’ll let that little dig slide, —and I’ll do my very best to stick to safe and traditional mediums, at least for the time being, just for you.”
You can’t help but smile at Rafayel’s good-natured reply. His gentle touch lingers on your jaw, and you lean into it, relishing in the softness of his affection.
“Very much so appreciated,” you answer amusedly. “I’ll consider it a personal victory if we can avoid any and all paint-related Wanderer incidents for the forseeable future.”
Rafayel gives a curt nod.
“A noble goal, my dearest hunter,” he says. “Now go forth and fell any pesky Wanderers intent on disturbing the peace of our humble city of high-class electronic developments, bringing back tales of wonder and triumph.”
Heaven knows he has to be the most dramatic man you’ve ever met, but you couldn’t imagine him being any other way.
You play along and give him a mock salute.
“Yes sir, at once.”
Rafayel stifles a laugh, clearly pleased by your participation in his theatrics. He thinks for a moment that this life he lives with you is nothing short of fantastical, —the kind of comfort he only dreamed of just years ago, and now here you are before him, like some kind of angel he’s terrified he might wake up to find was a figment of his deepest desires all along. But his worries are quenched by the way your lips slot so perfectly against his own as he leans in, kissing you sweetly.
“May the cosmic forces be ever in your favor, my love. Return not only with tales of triumph, but also interstellar souvenirs for my viewing pleasure and artistic inspirations if you happen to stumble across any. Preferably ones that will not curse our modest seaside home.”
You laugh, and it makes his heart stutter.
“I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for cosmic trinkets,” you assure.
You’re thrumming by the time Rafayel pulls you in again, pressing you closer to his chest. There’s nothing he has to say to fill the silence, and you let your eyes close for a moment, awash in the silent exchange of understanding so deep it could rival the cosmos. Beyond all the playful banter and the theatrical mannerisms, there’s love here, and that’s really all you could ask for. Worries about your safety, concern over Rafayel’s tendency to attract bad omens, —they dissipate in the face of this connection that buzzes like a live wire.
As you finally pull away, you meet his gaze and find nothing but softness there, replacing all the prior amusement and tiredness from before.
“Return safely, my angel. Our oceanside abode awaits your triumphant arrival,” he takes your hand, brushing his lips over your knuckles. “And so do I.”
#love and deepspace#love and deep space#love and deepspace x reader#love and deep space x reader#rafayel x reader#rafayel#rafayel love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace x reader#rafayel love and deep space x reader#love and deepspace rafayel#love and deep space rafayel#love and deep space rafayel x reader#love and deepspace rafayel x reader
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❝ DOUBLE PENETRATED ❞ - Choso Kamo, Suguru Geto
— YOUR OLD HIGH-SCHOOL CLASSMATES DO YOUR NIPPLE PIERCINGS.
₊˚༊*·˚ warnings. nsfw(18+), piercer! choso/suguru, threesome, throat-fucking, resolved sexual tension, choso has a tongue piercing, suguru lip piercing, oral sex, orgasm denial, spitting, face slapping, dp (v/anal), creampies, cum eating, taking polaroids while fucking, filth, MENTIONS OF PIERCING PROCEDURES!
₊˚༊*·˚ notes. I fear that I may have gone crazy with the fucking. choso turned out to be the one with the tongue piercing, but dw.. sug has a lip piercing. cause I wanted to focus on suguru more, after some of you loved my previous piece about him! this is a repost, I experienced a few formatting issues. ty for 900! <3 s/o to my dear rya for coming up with this amazing title 😭
4,562 words (15m read)
Finally, it had come after all; the day you were to get your nipples pierced. Standing in front of the studio, you take a deep breath— half of you wanting to back out, but the other just screaming 'fuck it.'
As soon as you enter, a chime goes off above your head, the man behind the counter hauling his eyelids up to see who it was.
He seems familiar, you thought. Long, raven colored hair; and those piercings... "..Suguru?"
His head cocks forward; like some meerkat, "Is that.. who I think it is?" Suguru hops off the stool, stepping away from the counter. Bringing you in for a big warm hug, he pulls away; taking a good look at you as he does. A silver glint catching your eye; it seems that he had gotten a lip piercing done, a metal ring hugging the flesh.
"Damn, you look good. I haven't seen you since what, high school grad'?" he warmly smiles, his forearm still resting on your back. Both you and Suguru had left high school on a good note; he had tend to hang out with the more, known people in school— although he was someone you could tolerate.
Flustered, you divert your gaze; Suguru walking back around before you could speak. "..Yeah, I never knew that you worked here," moving closer towards the countertop, you rested against your two hands, leaning slightly.
"Mhm, you probably remember Choso? He works here too. I mean, he owns this place." Suguru's eyes busy scanning the bookings, you blink frantically, trying to remember who 'Choso' was. Choso Kamo, perhaps? He adds on, "..You coming in for an appointment? For what?"
"..Choso? That's not really ringing a bell. And uh, I'm here to get my.. nips done..." your voice trails off slightly, embarrassed that your old high school classmate sees you after years; but here, in the middle of getting your tits pierced.
He smiles slightly, alarm bells ringing at those two exact words coming out of your mouth. "Ah.. Choso's gonna be heartbroken for sure if he finds out that you've completely forgotten him." He marks your name off the list of bookings, standing up straight. "Being that you were so quiet back in high school, I never expected you to get your tits done."
Warmth rushing through your body, you nervously let out a laugh, "..People change, I guess.." You purse your lips, mentally slapping yourself at how awkward the conversation has turned.
"Well said, how 'bout you come along with me. Choso's gonna be helping you out today." He steps out of the counter once again, gesturing you to follow behind him.
You both walk through some curtains leading to the back of the studio, Suguru bringing you into a room with dark interior; a leather piercing bed taking up space in the middle of the room.
Another man was sitting on a wheeled stool beside a counter, his back turned to you. Seems like he's busy sterilising some equipment..
"Cho," Suguru calls out, the man glances behind his shoulder, fully spinning the stool around in surprise. "Look who I've got with me!"
Choso's eyes widen, mouth gaped after having not see you for a few years. He looks, so different. Too different. His hair a bit longer, but he decided to keep it down. It was no longer tied up in two pigtails like back in high school; both him and Suguru have turned into.. Good looking men; real men..
"..Choso?" you quietly call out , a type of tension lingering throughout the air— a room with two guys and one girl about to get her tits pierced by her old high school classmates, ones that she last expected to see.
Suguru slouches onto the sofa in the corner, hands holding a polaroid camera. "Our old classmate here has come today to get her tits done," He sticks one eye into the viewfinder, snapping a quick photo of his surroundings. "Also- If you don't mind, we tend to take polaroids of our customers after the finished piercing. Your face won't be caught in it, don't worry."
"Uh yeah, that's fine." You flashed a smile, before placing your coat and bag on the armrest beside Suguru, behind you could hear Choso finally speaking.
"..If you wanna just take a seat right here, and make yourself comfortable." He pats on the leather bed beside him, Choso stealing a quick stare down your body, noticing what has changed about you over these past few years. Pretty face like always, a fatter ass.. and..
"..Kay," hestitant, you scoot yourself onto the bed, leaning your head against the soft cushion. You breathe deeply, nervous about the fact that they were literally about to see your tits. But hey, it's their job, right? ..Why is Suguru still here though?
Choso takes note of your anxious demeanor, adjusting the lamp above you. He goes and slips on a pair of black latex gloves, before spinning back around; stumbling with his choice of words. You dart your eyes to the Choso making an array of strange noises, until he finally knows what to say.
"I'm gonna need you to uh, take that off." He points a finger at your shirt, his hand withdrawing immediately. You quickly understood what he meant, sitting yourself up on the bed.
"Right, yeah.." Your hands like frost from feeling timid, they graze against your skin as you took off your shirt; you had chosen not to wear a bra today, as it felt like it made sense. Your nipples instantly go erect from the cold touch of your fingers.
...And a nice pair of tits. That's the last thing Choso was meant to say. He swallows some spit, offering to take your shirt to keep it safely to the side, Suguru looking at you with the corner of his eye, grinning.
You lay back on the bed, the cold leather causing you to shiver all over again. Choso wheels the stool closer to you, his hand holding an antibacterial wipe. "..Alright, I think we'll go with a straight barbell. It's one of the safest options." Nodding in response, he goes on with the procedure.
He gives the surface of your tits a quick wipe, making them jiggle slightly— Choso tries his best to not let his mind trail off somewhere else. He's pierced multiple before but, something about you just had him whipped.. Especially after not seeing you for ages.
He looks at you for a moment before leaning in, trying not to smile at you all nervous underneath him; feeling your body tense under his touch as he firmly grabs your tits to leave markings with the pen.
"..Just relax yourself for me," he says, lowly, your feet stopping their kicking down the end of the bed. You study his face closely as he focuses on leaving perfect marks over your nipples to indicate where the piercing will go, his hot breath slightly fanning over your skin. You could hear Suguru in the background humming to the music on the radio, tapping away on his phone, and the same polaroid resting on his lap.
Choso pulls away allowing you to take a look at where he had drawn the markings. It took him a lot of strength to keep himself from latching his mouth onto your breasts then and there. "Approved?" He clicks the cap of the marker back on, tossing it to the side.
"..Approved," You give him a small, affirming smile as he gets the other tools ready. A clamp in his one hand, and a needle in the other, he holds them out.
"It's gonna hurt like a bitch for a few seconds, but it will be over before you know it." Reassuring you, you could only nod once more; licking your dried lips as you had ran out of words to say.
You try not to shut your eyes as you feel the cold clamp clutch onto your nipple, thinking that it would be bad etiquette if you did. Instead, you turn your head to the side, seeing Suguru still relaxed on the couch. He grins, but before you know it; the stinging of the needle hits you, a mewl coming out of your mouth.
"Good girl, just breathe," he coos, "I'm almost done with the other one." You bite down on your lip, certain that you had left a bruise behind. What felt like more than minutes, the stinging comes to a halt; numbing taking its place. You could feel Choso lay his gloved hands on your bare stomach, letting you know he had finished. "All done, you took that like a champ."
Turning your head back to it's original position, your eyes travel down to your chest, seeing the metal barbels inserted into both nipples. You smile, Suguru coming close to the bed with the polaroid.
"Oh, they look good." Suguru puts out, "I'm jealous of whoever gets to see these." His lips curl into a smirk as his eye goes near the viewfinder. You disregard his comment, busy looking at your freshly pierced tits.
"You happy with them?" Choso asks, wiping away at some equipment.
"I love them, thanks, Choso." You say, itching to poke at them but both men attempt to grab your wrist, causing you to look up; your eyes alternating between the two.
"Don't be touching them all the time," Suguru says sternly, meanwhile Choso on the other hand says something completely different.
"If.. you know, someone wants to, latch onto them- don't allow it," Choso continues, his blood curdling at the thought of someone else taking his own work for their pleasure. "..It needs to fully heal."
Cautiously, you nod, retracting your hand to lay it down on your side. Suguru switches up the topic, excited with the camera in his hand. "Ready to take a few pics? I'd say smile, but you aren't in them anyway."
"Of course," you sit up on the bed, perking your tits out as Suguru focused the lens on them. Choso bunches your hair up in his fist, bringing the strands behind your back so that the camera could get a clearer view of your chest. His grip delicate, but your stomach churns at how his long, slender fingers scratch off your nape.
You blink at the bright flash going off, the film peeking out of the slit at the top. Suguru takes it, flopping it around in the air for the picture to come through. He sets it down on the table nearby, with an intention to take more.
"Could you move yourself a little bit to the left?" Suguru's eye still stuck in the viewfinder, he orders you around with a gesture; his only sight of you being through the lens.
"..Like this?" you respond, after scooting slightly to the side; your hair still in Choso's grip, which accidentally feels like a harsh tug as soon as you move away— immediately, he lets go.
Choso mutters quietly under his breath, "Ah..- sorry."
Suguru brings the camera away from his face, his free hand suddenly grabbing onto the side of your waist; positioning you like a delicate doll. Your breath hitches, taken aback by his sudden movements.
He puts the viewfinder up to his eye again, snapping another valuable photo of you. The film comes out of the slit again, Suguru carrying out the same routine he had done with the previous picture.
Exhausted, you lay back down on the bed; though Suguru sees this as a perfect opportunity for another pic. "Hmm... Just- stay like that, yeah?" He says, the bright flash filling your vision with white.
You giggle, feeling as if you were a model taking boudoir, fully naked. You arch your back against the leather playfully, your chest protruding and extremely close to the lens, Suguru smiling and continuing to take more photos.
Choso remains silent as he slips the gloves off, a painful strain forming against his pants as he watched you pose so lewdly in front of him, you weren't the same girl as the one he knew back in high school.
Multiple photos scatter the table; Suguru having to go and fetch more film from the drawers.
Both of you had moved to the sofa in the corner, multiple pictures of you kneeling, biting your finger with your tits perked out to the camera; all pieces of film had covered parts of the floor. You were having a bit too much fun.
Choso, his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. Refusing to be provoked, he stands up from the stool; making his way over to the sofa to take a seat beside you.
Suguru praises you, picking up a few of the photos that had finished processing. He remains anchored between your legs, towering over your body that was kneeled on the sofa. "They came out great, don't you think?" He holds one closely for you to see, your head tilting to take a peek.
"That one looks good," you point, Suguru approvingly nodding in response; although Choso makes a sudden comment, one that caught you by surprise.
Toying with the ends of your hair, Choso twirls them around his finger. The slight touch from his fingertips sending chills down your spine. "..So, who's gonna be lucky enough to see them?" he says, calmly; his voice not showing one bit of repentance. He was certain with his choice of words.
Confused, you turn to him, suppressing a titter. "..No one, I just really wanted this for myself.." you say, Choso nodding slowly; feeling slight relief at your answer.
“Probably can’t wait to show them off, huh?” Choso’s words sharp, digging into you like daggers; “..Just walking around, tits poking through your shirt, so everyone could see..”
All of a sudden, he yanks your hair back, and you let out a wail; your eyes meeting with Suguru’s above you. Seeing him grinning at you all helpless from the top, his hand reaches down to rest on your face; thumb caressing your cheekbone.
Looking at Choso— your eye moving to the side, his expression blank; but clearly, he was enjoying every bit of this.
“..I’d say we put her in her place,” Suguru says, his voice growing low; observing how easily you succumb to their touch. You could feel Choso’s grip let loose in your hair, and instead, his lips find their way to your neck; a hum crawling from his throat.
You whimper, Choso leaving a trail of wet kisses down the soft skin of your neck, softly gasping as he managed to move you around, laying you down against the edge of the sofa.
“W-wait, Choso..” you whispered, his lips moving from your chest down to your stomach, being careful to not meddle with your freshly done nipples, his hands roaming all over the gummy flesh on your waist.
You watch as he goes down on you, until a sudden grab at your chin lures you away, “Up here baby,” he purrs, your eyes misty— Suguru’s lips lock onto yours, tongues intertwining with each other as he groans into the kiss. You manage to swipe at his metal lip ring in the midst of it; the kiss so filthy and disgusting, nothing but neediness controlling it.
Choso on the other end pulling at your pants, allowing you to shimmy them off; leaving you in your underwear. Cock harder than ever, he licks against the material, the metal orb on his tongue poking through— he had a tongue piercing? He just couldn't wait to have you. A wet stain remains on the cotton, as he nibbles at the fabric before tearing it apart fully.
You let out a breathy moan into the kiss with Suguru, the ball on Choso’s tongue prodding at your clit, he alternates between licking and sucking. Occasionally, he plants kisses on the inside of your thighs; excessively groaning as he takes in all of you.
His large hands wrap around the plump of your legs, bringing you closer to his face; his grunts tickling you each time he slurped, eating you out as if you were his last meal.
Everything going on felt sinful; two men playing with you at the same time, but oh—did you want more.
Suguru pulls away, the camera placed on the ground; a long string of saliva connecting you two. Hands trembling as he reaches down for the buckle on his belt, undoing it swiftly— not fully pulling his pants down but instead grabbing for his cock; letting it hang freely from his boxers.
Your eyes frantically blinking at the size, so girthy, and long; you grab onto and tug at Choso’s strands as you felt him fuck into you with the tip of his tongue, your mouth gaping— Suguru seeing this as an advantage to stuff your mouth full of his cock.
A guttural sound crawling out of his throat, the warmth that your mouth enclosed over his cock doing his head in. His hips move back and forth, head falling back as he dug his fingers into your scalp, bobbing your head up and down his length. “Fuck.. just like that,” he groans, looking down at you taking him whole. “Good girl, how about we train this throat of yours..”
Suguru pushes into your throat as deep as he can go, your eyes brimming with tears; the tip of your nose tickled by his pubes— “Just breathe baby, breathe..” He says so easily with a devilish grin, enjoying the pure panic on your face.
He stills in your throat for a few seconds before completely pulling your mouth off his cock— spit running down your chin, his entire length glistening with it.
You let out a cry, your head crashing back into the sofa as you feel Choso stick two digits into you, his tongue relentlessly gliding over your clit as he does so, enjoying every single one of your desperate mewls.
Suguru rewards you with a slap on your cheek, a stinging mark stays behind. Lightly tapping on the side of your face, he compels you to open your mouth; dropping an orb of spit into the hole. “Swallow it,” and you obey, sticking out your tongue to prove it. “So obedient..”
You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second, before Choso hauls his head up from between your legs. Suguru’s hands clawed in your scalp; allowing him to move you around like a ragdoll— his strength making you stand up from the sofa.
Your head tilts to one side, Suguru leaning closely to your ear; “Go and give Cho' a ride, he’ll be upset if you leave him out.”
Trying to peer your eyes down to take a look at what Choso was up to, you see him struggling to undo the buttons on his pants, so eager to spend yet another minute with you.
As soon as he gets them off, he takes his thick cock in his grasp; giving it a small jerk, spitting into his hand before rubbing the slobber all over.
“..Go on, make him feel good,” Suguru whispers, pushing you closer towards Choso— you land in his lap, mind-fucked; you immediately grab his face, leaning in for yet another sloppy kiss, Choso melting into your touch.
His hands trying to position his tip at your entrance, he pulls away from the kiss for a moment; “Come on.. Sit on it,” his eyes look up into yours, almost as if he were begging.
You glance behind you, sinking down onto his cock without thinking twice. You clutch onto the fabric of his shirt, wrinkling it all together. Choso places a few kisses on your jaw, his eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of your tight walls closing in on him.
“Doing so good for me,” he whispers against your skin, “Start to move when you can, just be mindful of your piercings.”
You nod, furrowing your brows and lips parting, foreheads leaning against each other as you start to bounce up and down, his entire length filling you up and stretching your hole out, you endlessly chant his name like a prayer.
Choso’s cold hands running through your hair, trying moving loose strands away from your face. A snap goes off behind you, a familiar white flash blinding your sights— Suguru taking a photo of this pornographic moment, he takes the film and tosses it onto the ground before bringing his attention back to you.
A hand snakes onto your shoulder from behind, possibly Suguru. A pair of hands belonging to Choso resting on your hips as you moved up and down his cock, his head falling heavy into the sofa’s cushion in pure gratification.
The hand on your shoulder rushes to your mouth, covering it as you felt another cock enter your ass; a string of muffled moans trapped against the palm of Suguru’s hand.
Two cocks fucking into you at the same time, your eyes roll to the back of your head; feeling both tips in your guts, Suguru’s cock pounding into you harder than Choso’s.
You were just full of dick, and you loved it, Choso fighting the urge to hold onto your tits bouncing in his face; knowing it would be a bad idea to. He didn’t want to risk it, possibly infecting anything.
Your ass rippling against Suguru’s pelvis, you let out a long, laboured moan, your toes curling at the sensation. Suguru’s hand reaches under your chin, his voice almost mokcing you. The tips of his fingers tap against your jaw again, “You love being stuffed with our cocks, don’t you?”
You could only nod, your eyes closing as you indulged in the pleasure; mind completely blank— fear arousing in you from how feral Suguru has become; but it turns you on even more.
“Use your words, tell me you love it. Tell me.” Suguru firmly grips onto your face, moving it in all sorts of directions.
You hiccup, tears stained with hot tears. “I-I love your cocks so much, I.. I need more,” managing to choke out, he somewhat seems satisfied enough with your answer.
He peels away from you, and so does his cock, your asshole completely stretched out; your holes aching. You try to stamp your legs, squirming from all the different things coming at you .
Choso slides out of you too, his heavy cock slapping onto his abdomen. He didn't allow himself to cum. Nor did he let you. “You hear that Suguru? The slut said she wants more.” Fucked like a whore, you felt empty and lost without any cock inside of you.
Choso pushes you aside on the sofa, getting up and making his way towards the end— Suguru swapping positions with him; this time he aligned his tip with your hole, taking over as he fucked you from behind.
Suguru’s hand presses down on your back, forcing you into a more defined arch, his hips thrusting into you mercilessly, practically fucking you into the sofa. You cry into the cushions, pleading him to slow down; your hand reaching back. Suguru snapping a quick photo of his cock moving in and out of you— getting a perfect shot of you bent over in front of him.
The crisp sound of the film leaving the slit rings through your ears, before you could hear the photo falling onto the ground.
Choso guides your head back up, bringing you to eye level with his cock, forcing your mouth back down his length. He was on the verge of losing his mind too— did he want to keep you to himself forever, so he could fuck you every hour, day, week.
You were being stuffed both ends; gagging noises emitting from your throat as Choso fucked into your front like a flesh-light, Suguru on the other end drilling into you like a mad man. His leg props up onto the sofa for leverage, allowing himself to rut into you deeper than before.
You whimper all over Choso’s cock, buckets of spit spilling down his shaft, then to the ground as he used your mouth as he desired, your holes at both end not being shown any remorse.
A cacophony of moans and skin slapping echoes throughout the room, along with the faint melody coming from the radio.
“I-I’m gonna cum in this pussy,” Suguru whines, his nails digging into the skin on your hips, clutching onto the flesh trying to fucking you back onto his cock as he chased his orgasm.
A creamy ring forms at his shaft, his hands reaching down to your clit to lazily rub circles, urging you to cum as well. “Let it out baby, m-make a mess all over me.”
You grip onto the sofa’s arm rests, letting out a long groan over Choso’s cock again, your body spasming as your orgasms washed over you. Your legs shake and jitter, both feet kicking in overstimulation.
Choso pulls you by the hair off his cock, red tip slapping against your lips as he jerked himself off to his high, forcing his length back into your mouth— ropes of warm cum coated every inch of your throat.
He slides himself out for a second, the remaining spurts of his load decorating your face. “Pretty..” He breathes out, chest heaving. Choso leans in, nastily kissing you on the lips, getting a taste of his own cum off your tongue as he does.
The sight so lewd, both your saliva and remnants of his load trickling down your mouth. You try and swallow the rest, Choso smiling, so proud.
Suguru ends up bottoming into you, his hips rocking deeply in rhythm with each time his balls tighten; your brains fucked to the point that you could only think about cock.
He spills his own load into your womb, completely filling you up with his thick cum that was bound to leak out of you as soon as he pulls out; in fact, you were stuffed with cum on both ends.
Suguru strikes a spank on your ass, tenderly massaging the flesh afterwards, spreading your cheeks as he slowly slides out; cock heavily hanging as his eyes watched his cum drip out of your stretched hole.
He reaches for the camera, taking one last snapshot of your fucked up holes as a sentimental memory, grabbing the film and tossing the camera to the side.
Suguru bends down towards your pussy, licking up a bit of his cum out of you before mixing it with some saliva, spitting the ball back into your pussy, rubbing it everywhere with the help of his fingers.
Choso walks around, slouching back into the sofa; Suguru gently seating you down beside him, being mindful of your trembling legs.
All three of you remain seated, focused on trying to calm you down; the studio was littered with film everywhere, the room stinking of pure, filthy sex— bodies warm, sticky, and covered with sweat. Everyone trying to recollect themselves; faces blushed with red.
You could feel Choso’s hands run through your hair, remembering how hard they were both tugging on your scalp earlier. Suguru also rubbing your thigh up and down, soothing your nerves. Your body ached, completely fucked out of your skin.
“..I think we should have you in for a weekly dick appointment instead.”
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷
[luvwestwood masterlist]
#jjk smut#suguru geto smut#geto suguru#geto smut#choso kamo#choso smut#choso kamo smut#jjk x reader#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo x you#choso kamo x female reader#suguru geto#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x you#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu geto#jujutsu choso
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Bark bark bark awoooo
No content warnings
You’re gonna fucking combust.
Somehow, someway, this is Johnny’s fault. You’re not sure how yet, so he it isn’t fair for him to be in trouble, but you know it.
“This is your fault,” you tell him, pouting in bed — bare ass naked, but that means nothing to him, he’s a dog. He cocks his head, and you wave your (broken) vibrator at him. “I don’t know how, but it is. Is this because I wanna chop your balls off?”
His mouth closes, eyes big - like he actually understands you. In your horny delirium, you almost believe he really does.
You flop onto your back with a sigh, eyes a little wet with frustration.
It’s been two months since you last successfully got off. Your vibrator (and its replacement… and its replacement’s replacement) keep breaking, or running out of battery. The plug is defective or falls out of the socket.
Once you successfully got right to the edge - just for it to die. You almost did cry that time.
Sure, there’s your hand. But every time you try ol’ reliable a certain four-legged roommate interrupts one way or another. And when you tried to kick him out of the room, and then ignored the howling, scratching, and general drama - there was loud and rapid knocking at your door.
Like fucking clockwork. If you get anywhere at all, you never get to finish.
It wouldn’t be so bad, either. Your libido isn’t anything crazy, you don’t think. At least it wasn’t before. But now there’s Soap.
Soap who you should not be so attracted to. Who has no sense of propriety or boundaries, who murmurs the dirtiest things to you in the most public and otherwise mundane places. And he just keeps. Showing. Up.
Like he’s got a tracker on you or something. (You’ve checked, he doesn’t.)
He’s like every guilty fantasy you had as a good, studious girl back in high school. The kind of guy to grab your thigh under your parents’ dinner table and take your virginity in the back of his car. Maybe corner you by the lockers between classes to kiss you silly and drive up your absence record.
You never actually went for those boys — and perhaps gratefully, they never went for you. In romance novels, it would be a quaint little coming of age story. The stuff to swoon over. But reality was a lot scarier for you, especially with your older sister always keeping an ear out to report back to your parents and… well, yeah.
You’ve always been a firm introvert, anyway. That’s why you live out in the woods with only a dog for regular company.
But Soap. Soap is some unholy amalgamation of those innocent, shy girl fantasies turned R-rated. Like the grown-up version of those cute YA novels.
And you have no defense for it — except distrust, that is.
Soft-hearted as you are, you know you don’t do casual well. And you know that guys like Soap just like to spin you up and up until you finally give in, think the dreaded words “maybe it’ll work out” despite that rational voice in your head saying, “don’t bet on it.”
Doesn’t stop you from secretly wanting him though.
Fear is the only thing keeping you in check now. Some of it for you own feelings; of getting invested in a guy that has done nothing but treat you like a prime cut of meat. The rest of it is a genuine concern that he might be a bit dangerous. He’s so much bigger than you, visibly stronger. Has gone out of his way to make you uncomfortable (doesn’t matter that a very dark and slutty part of you liked it) and ignored your attempts at brushing him off.
Fear, unfortunately, is beginning to add to the temptation.
“I’m not going to do it,” you tell yourself, or maybe Johnny. Soap’s contact is on the screen. You don’t remember putting it into your phone, but you must have at some point. “Nope. No way.”
You slide a sideways look at Johnny, tail wagging at a steady clip.
“He’s probably a former frat boy or something, right?” you muse.
Snort.
“No, you don’t think so?” you question, sitting up. He happily crawls into your lap when you pat your thighs, chin resting on your tummy. “Nah, you’re right. Could almost imagine him beating the hell out of one for pissing him off.”
A little grumbly noise. You smile and start petting absently over his head and ears, phone forgotten now.
“This is dumb anyway,” you sigh, head tilted back to the ceiling. “You don’t like men. I couldn’t bring him back here.”
Johnny’s ears flick. You giggle and start flopping them around, making airplane noises. Eventually he huffs and starts licking at your face until you stop, complaining that you’ll need to wash off now.
—
“Fuck it.”
Johnny picks his head up, staring at you as you run a hand down your face.
“Fuck it all. I’m going to a bar. I’m getting… I dunno. Laid or something.” Thank god it’s only Johnny here. You don’t think you could live with the embarrassment of someone else hearing the way you talk.
You set your hands on your hips, nod to yourself.
“And if it happens to be Soap, then… sign from the universe, right?” You grimace a bit, striding for your bedroom. “Please don’t let him be a murderer or something…”
For once, Johnny is perfectly behaved as you get ready. He doesn’t try to lick at you when you come out of shower (freshly shaved and lotioned and everything). Sits patiently on the bed as you pick through your closet, even noses at a pretty pink dress you rarely wear but were considering for this.
He doesn’t try to bump your arms or hands while you do your makeup, just watches attentively. You choose a pretty, matching bra-panty set, apply a light spritz of perfume. Hesitate over jewelry.
“Is it normal to wear jewelry when you plan on fucking?” you wander allowed.
A little “boof” from the bed. You’ll take that as a yes.
You decide on a set of faux pearls with a gold heart pendant in the center. Not quite a choker, but high enough on your throat to suggest one. A delicate bracelet, a pair of stud earrings, and you’re just about set.
“Christ, I hate doing this alone,” you mutter, fumbling with the zip on the back of the dress.
Lastly, the shoes.
“Fuck it,” you say again. Your mantra for the evening, apparently. Wobble into a pair of heels, a bow on the outside of each ankle where you buckle them.
You pause when you’re done, giving yourself a once over in the full length mirror. Pleased with what you see. Coquettish and pretty, not necessarily bombshell sexy maybe, at least not on first glance. But the necklace, the heels, the cutouts at the waist of your dress… it’s all exactly what you wanted.
“Alright,” you breathe, tummy swooping with excitement. “I can do this… right?”
Johnny’s gotten down off the bed, is keeping a respectful distance. You appreciate it, don’t want to have to lint roll hair off yourself.
“Oh, god. What if he’s bad?” You ask, giving him a horrified look. “What if he’s been, like, compensating?”
To your shock, he stomps his paw and starts damn near howling. Carrying on and on like he’s bitching you out. You blink in shock, almost laugh — then check the time.
“Oh! Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let you starve!”
You toddle off to the kitchen and prep his dinner, scrunching your nose at the raw chicken and beef liver. He grumbles and fusses the whole way, making you laugh as you pretend to have a whole conversation about the economy with him.
“Okay, bonnie Johnny,” you coo, setting his bowl down. “Be good, okay? If I bring someone back here please don’t eat them, okay?”
More grumbles and whines and growls. You roll your eyes, blow him a kiss, and slip out the door.
You tell yourself you just need action with someone. Don’t admit to yourself that there’s really a specific someone you’re hoping to see.
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pairing: gojo satoru x reader
summary: best friend!satoru is everything to me, fluff, teeny tiny bit angsty, but only bc of pining (my favorite), here to add to my simp satoru agenda, he’s trying his best but reader is oblivious (same), pls notice him
rheya’s note: i cant stop thinking about best friend!satoru so i’m here to share this silly little blurb LMAO that’s it enjoy !! part 2
if satoru had known that being your best friend would be this difficult, he would have turned away from you when you said hi to him on your first day at jujutsu high.
it's not that he doesn't care about you. no, quite the opposite actually. he's always cared about you more than he'd like to admit. he can remember the way he used track the eyes of fellow students trailing you when you walked by. he can remember the sting of his nails as they dug into his clenched palms, and how suguru would pat his shoulder sympathetically when he noticed. he was sixteen at the time.
back then it seemed like he would grow out of his teenage crush, after being dismissed as your good friend for so long. but no, just his luck that these stupid feelings would grow and grow until they were tangled up around his very soul. a vice-like grip.
and now almost seven years later, nothing has changed.
"and he told me that if i wanted to be more interesting i should learn to fence, like he does!" you rant, throwing your hands up as you pace the length of his kitchen. satoru leans against the counter, arms crossed as he watches you vent your anger over yet another failed first date.
"uh huh." he acknowledges, trying to stay focused as you continue your annoyed speech. his fingers flex against his biceps, a thinly veiled attempt at controlling his frustration. whether he's frustrated with you or the man you were with, he has no clue.
"then he asked me where i was from, and then said i didn't look like it!" you rage, face hot as you finally unload the frustration you've been carrying all evening.
satoru huffs in mild irritation, trying hard not to roll his eyes. but you hear it and turn to him, half ticked off and half curious. "what was that?"
he clicks his tongue.
"you do this all the time. you always pick guys who treat you like shit. i'm not even surprised anymore." he snaps, a bit more forceful than he intended to be.
there's a silence that follows, and satoru’s unlucky enough to catch the mildly surprised look on your face. he tongues his cheek, brows pinched as he watches your expression fall. an ugly feeling that reminds him suspiciously of guilt rolls around in his stomach.
"you’re right…" you sigh, shoulders slumping as you cross your arms with a defeated shake of your head. "it's just tiring, you know?"
he turns his back to you, reaching across the counter to start slicing up an apple, trying to keep his hands occupied because they're itching to touch you. but he can't keep the bitterness out of his tone when he answers with a clipped, "yeah i know."
he can practically feel your confused stare on his back. but then you chuckle in amusement, mirth clear in your tone. "what do you mean you know? you literally get attention from random people on the street. you can have anyone you want." you laugh.
"are you serious?" he asks, eyes wide with disbelief as he spins around to face you again. you only blink at him, expression so annoyingly clueless it makes him sigh. he turns away from you once again, going back to cutting the apple.
"what?" you cock your head, not understanding why he's so forlorn about it. "most people would jump at the chance to date you. everyone wants you, you know?"
"not everyone. not the one who matters." he mutters bitterly as he places the apple slices onto a plate. you said all of it so casually, like it's supposed to be obvious, but all satoru feels is an overwhelming wave of disappointment wash over him.
"you…never mind." he relents, biting his tongue. "it's not important."
he hears your sharp intake of breath as you gasp, curiosity no doubt brimming in your barely concealed grin.
"ooh interesting! are you telling me you have a thing for someone, toru?" the teasing in your tone is palpable, and satoru feels his stomach flip pleasantly when you say his name. he turns around to face you, letting his shoulders drop as a helpless smile stretches across his face.
he walks up to you, pushing an apple slice past your lips and chuckling quietly. you're still giving him those curious little eyes as you chew, and he tries to swallow down the overwhelming wave of pure affection that threatens to burst from within. clearly today wasn't the day you were going to realize what kind of feelings he's been keeping a secret for so many years.
that's okay. he'll wait as long as you need him to.
he flicks your forehead gently, before reaching down to tug on your cheek. "don't worry your pretty little head about that, sweet thing. you'll figure it out soon enough."
#[𐐪— rheya’s writings. 𐑂]#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#gojo satoru headcanons#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo fluff#gojo angst#jjk#jjk fluff#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#gojo satoru x y/n#jjk fanfic#jjk season 2#gojou satoru x reader#jjk gojo#gojo drabbles#gojo imagine#gojo#jujutsu kaisen x you
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marry me | gojo satoru
synopsis: a bad idea disguised as a practical joke turns into something way deeper than you intended it to be.
wc: 1.1k
cw: just good ol fluff!
a/n: happy late birthday to my baby daddy and man of my dreams gojo satoru. i have to marry this man. i have to i have to i have to. anyways. enjoy reading this cute little fic i wrote, meaning i thought abt gojo proposing as a joke and vomited this out. enjoy!
it starts, like all things involving gojo satoru, with a bad idea disguised as a practical joke.
you're sitting across from him, in a restaurant that’s not too fancy, more of a family-type deal. he's forgone his blindfold in favor of his square-framed glasses, but his uniform is still on. he insisted on treating you to dinner after you exorcized an unregistered special grade on your own. however, with gojo, things can't always be so easy; he always adds his patented gojo twist to things, and this time the twist is this terrible joke.
“come on, it'll be funny!” he whines, from across the table.
“you want to propose to me in this restaurant for free food? when you make well over six figures a year? and have full access to thousands of years of old clan money?” you ask, incredulously, reaching to take a sip of your drink, suddenly wishing you had gone with a stronger option.
“yes, exactly. what's not clicking?”
“uhmmm, all of it?”
“look it'll be funny. you could even say no, then you can run out and i get free food as pity points,” he smiles at you, and you find it hard to keep saying no. “i mean, they'll probably all call you heartless and tell me i deserve better but that's fine.”
“okay and if i say yes, what about a ring? or the fact that we're not even together? how is anyone going to believe you?” you ask, thinking you've backed him into a corner, until he just sighs softly, keeping an easy smile, and reaches into his pocket. he pulls out a black velvet box, and shakes it a bit by his head.
“you think i hadn't planned for that?” he asks, smirking in your direction, trying to hold back laughter at your aghast expression, you drag a palm over your face, finally conceding.
“okay. fine! fine! just…try not to embarrass me. please?”
“no promises! also the waitress is coming this way, so get ready. tears are optional but preferred.”
you roll your eyes at his statement, your gaze following him closely when he stands up and walks over to your side of the table. you look around desperately hoping that no one will actually have their attention drawn to you but the thing about gojo is wherever he goes he commands attention. consequently, when he stands at a whopping 6’7 everyone’s already looking, and when he drops down on one knee in front of you, holding that little velvet box in front of you, you catch people’s smartphones shooting up immediately, great. and you're sure the vision of jujutsu’s strongest sorcerer, taking off his sunglasses and holding up a ring box to you would haunt you forever. you think right under reverse cursed technique in his list of talents, they should add acting, because the look in his eyes almost feels real.
the way your name falls so delicately from his lips, before he clears his throat, feigning nervousness. the way he struggles at first to look you in the eyes, the ring sparkling in the dim lighting. he starts:
“you are truly the most beautiful woman i've ever met, inside and out. to know you and love you is a pleasure too great for words, and i want to continue living in it every day. will you marry me?” you roll your eyes, but the smile across your face is genuine, maybe he was right, maybe this is funny. so you have no issue, saying yes, throwing your arms around his neck as he spins you around, delicately sliding the ring onto your finger. the two of you giggle all the way back to jujutsu tech, containers of your free leftovers in hand.
and so it becomes a tradition.
satoru continues to propose to you every time the two of you get the chance to have dinner together, and despite all your better judgment, you laugh and say yes every time.
and what started as a joke, turned tradition, starts to morph into something else.
satoru notices it on a summer day. you're out with the students, supervising them as they spar. the sun’s been beating down for days, he's standing beside you his eyes trained on your hands. your left ring finger has a tan line, it's from that ring. you're not wearing it, you returned it to him last night, forgetting to give it back after dinner and then desperately trying to get your schedules to align for at least five minutes, but he'd been out of town for a week and when he finally got back late last night to find you working on paperwork in your office, he didn't know why it felt like his heart sank when you slid the ring off and put it in his hand.
now, the box feels heavy in his pocket (when did he start carrying it all the time?) and he looks at you with so much adoration that had his blindfold not been on, he'd look like a love-struck puppy to any passerby. you'd been wearing the ring so much it's left a mark on you, it's obvious you'd been wearing it, the tan line a stark reminder that it was there; and something about it makes satoru wish he could make the next proposal permanent. you turn your head to him, smiling softly.
“the first years are something else this year, gojo, did you see yuuji and maki spar? they're going places,”
and he's not sure why but before he can stop himself he's blurting out:
“let me take you on a date.”
you sputter and falter, turning fully to look at him, “are you being serious?”
he nods, that goofy smile of his making you weak to his every whim, it's the same one he gave you that night at that dinner table; the same one that made you start this tradition.
so he takes you out, and then that becomes a tradition. still every day, he thinks of the way that ring looked on you whenever he slid it on your finger, and how he felt rejected every time you gave it back. he'd clear his schedule if he knew he could have dinner with you, just to see the smile you couldn't stop whenever he got down on one knee.
satoru doesn't propose anymore. he figures the next time he does it, he should be serious about it since you're his girl now. on a tuesday night, you're sitting with him on the couch, your legs are thrown over his lap and he looks at you, focused so intently on a book you've been dying to finish, the bookmark always staying near the end as you get called into emergency exorcisms, and he knows. he fishes that ring out of his pocket, the same one he gave you in that restaurant almost two years ago, and there's no fanfare, no cameras, no theatrics. he just opens the box, looks at you, and says,
“hey baby, let's get married.”
and just like the first time, you smile and say yes.
#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#jjk x reader#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#jjk fluff#vela is a softie#vela loves gojo#fics#trying out a new header style also#got tired of finding those stupid manga panels
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Drunkie II Alexia putellas x reader
They were engaged at this point. Y/N finally had herself someone to love truly, to trust. It was a huge party in the Patri’s house. All the staff members and the whole team were there to join the party.
The party was fun. Though due to that it ended with a heavy boom. Alexia was still somewhat sober having drunken two cases of beer. Though, Y/N had gone hammered after winning the drinking contest against her and another staff member of the team with a staggering 6 bottles of beer, 2 shots of vodka, and three shots of tequila.
Y/N was at her most tipsy, but it wasn't enough to make her pass out or drunkenly spin circles to do something stupid. Thankfully this was all stopped as Alexia brought Y/N back to their house.
Y/N had smelled of alcohol after she practically swam in beer because of a dare Patri made her do. Because of that her shirt and pants were dampened with beer, showing off her toned abs. Yet alexia couldn't complain, Y/N had it less. Mapi and Lucy swam in tequila.
Y/N lays on the bed drunkenly. She was muttering some phrases off.
"She's pretty." Y/N mutters.
Alexia turns her head as she grabs some of her new clothes from the wardrobe.
“Who is Y/N?" She asks before setting the clothes by her side.
"My wife." Y/N Says. She lets out a drunken laugh. "Like ... she is gorgeous. I LOVE HER!"
She lets out a chuckle rolling her eyes. "Well, she must be a lucky person to have you." She Says.
"Nah !! " Y/N slurs.
She then begins undressing her button down. Y/N's max drunk mode made it nearly impossible as she tries wiggling her shirt off. Yet Y/N manages to slap her hand off her without fail.
"Y/N!" She scolds.
“No." Y/N Says. "She'll get mad!"
She looks at them confused. "Y/N you smell like beer. Don't make this complicated, it's late night." She complains. "Who’s going to get mad anyway?"
She tries again to get her shirt off. She swat her hand away.
“Staahhhp! She's going to get angry." Y/N hisses. "And if you don't stop, I'll make her use her powers on you. My wife is La Reina."
"Y/N what?"
Y/N swats her hand away. "No, I don't love you." She say angrily.
Immediately Alexia’s chest hits with hurt. "What?"
"Only Alexia can touch me." She scold. "My wife can only do that. Stop it!"
Her faltered expression immediately lightens up. She couldn't help but let out a giggle at Y/N's behavior. No doubt Alexia’s fiancé is the stereotypical golden retriever masc. The thought itself made her smile widely. Even when Y/N was drunk she had a conscious to be loyal to her.
She then places herself right over Y/N’s body. She grabs the sides of her face firmly. "Y/N, you drunk idiot ... " She says sternly.
Y/N opens her eyes slightly. A once annoyed expression is replaced by a smile. “Hi babe.” Y/N Says with a laugh. “Thank god you’re here.”
She smiles. "You're drunk Y/L/N." She comments.
"I know." Y/N admits. She then touches her hair, circling it around her fingers. "You know you are really pretty."
"You tell me that every day."
Y/N smiles before telling it back. "Because I mean it." She say.
She lets out a happy sigh. "You know in the least can we get your shirt and pants off."
"If we do it now, I might vomit on you." Y/N slurs.
"I'm just changing your clothes babe." She Says. "You, Mapi and Lucy swam in liquor today."
"It was Patri's idea." Y/N retorts.
"I know." She Says. "And I'm gonna kill her for it." She adds under her breath.
Finally after some time she finally gets the needed clothes off. She throws them in the laundry. She was about to leave to go and grab some of Y/N’s medicine when she feels a something tugs at her.
"Ale baby ... stay!" Y/N groans.
She turns her head. "I have to go get your pills for your hangover so you don't complain all tomorrow.” She Says.
Y/N laughs. "Fuck the hangover." She mumble. "I want my wife here."
She rolls her eyes. Knowing if she fought back, it would take another hour for this to calm down. Willingly she slides right beside Y/N in bed.
Alexia let Y/N spoons her.
“Why won't you face me?” She asks.
"Because my breath smells like alcohol." Y/N murmurs quietly. She hold her hand though as their legs tangle within each other.
“Goodnight babe." She Says.
Without missing a beat Y/N reply back slurring her words heavily.
"Love you." She manages to say.
-------
thank you for reading.
#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso one shot#woso x reader#alexia putellas x reader#alexia x reader#alexia putellas fluff#masc lesbian#masc reader#woso community
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Pairing: Mean Mommy!Wanda x Fem!Reader
Word count: 700
Warning: NSFW, 18+, lesbian relationship, spanking, teasing, orgasm denial
Guys, I had this idea of sweet, kind, gentle, loving Mommy Wanda who always treats you so well and spoils you endlessly and adores to cuddle you and run her fingers through your hair. She’s the best. And you’ve only been her well-behaved girl so far, because you know she hates brats. Except you really wanna see that other side of her. You wanna know what she’ll do if you actually acted out… So you do.
One day you have the audacity to mouth off to her, making her head snap in your direction and her eyes to turn cold. You see the way her jaw clenches as she walks towards you with big strides.
“You wanna say that again?” She asks, just inches from your face, voice low.
She’s so intimidating like this, so authoritive and demanding, but you’ve started this already so you stick to what you said, actually repeating it to her face. That’s when she snaps.
She has her hand around your throat in seconds, backing you further into the room and spinning you around, so she can bend you over the armrest of the couch.
She holds you down with one hand on your lower back, while the other lifts up the skirts of your dress and exposes your ass, greedy hands taking fistfuls of it and caressing you roughly. She takes a deep breath to try and calm herself, but she watches you wiggle under her, little gasps falling from your lips as you wait in anticipation and that’s when it clicks for her. You did it on purpose.
She chuckles darkly at the thought, licking her lips while she takes you in like that.
“You wanted Mommy to be mean?” She asks, her voice seductive and deep. “Well, here it is.” She says, as her free hand rises up and lands harshly on your ass. “While you enjoy your punishment, my darling, I want you to remember that you wanted this.” She warns, with that same dark and seductive voice.
Then another slap lands. And another. She takes her time, savouring each one, caressing your cheeks that grow more sensitive and sore by the minute. Eventually she pulls your panties down, but the blows keep coming. She’s rough, just like you wanted and it makes you so unbearably aroused. You’re getting so wet from it and you’re pretty sure she can tell, but she never pays any attention to your pussy.
Sometimes her fingers glide near it, so close, yet not close enough and it makes you squeeze your thighs in anticipation. She sees it. Sees the way you’re starting to get slick and needy, but she continues to ignore it entirely, eventually pulling your panties back up and smoothing down your dress.
She chuckles when she sees your big, imploring eyes, your sore ass seated on the armrest she just spanked you over, looking up at her with so much hope. It almost makes her break her resolve. Almost.
“Yes?” She asks expectantly, while she tucks your hair behind your ear.
“Mommy… It…” You’re not sure how to tell her, but you know that she’s not going to help, unless you ask. “I really need you.” You finally say shyly.
“Oh you need me…” She repeats, her voice sweet. Too sweet. “Do you want me to make it all better, baby? Is your pussy all needy now? Does it ache for Mommy?” She asks as she reached a hand between your legs, watching you part your thighs for her so eagerly. It’s adorable.
“Yes, Mommy, please make it better.” You sigh, when she finally rubs you over your underwear, skilled fingers easily finding your clit and applying a little pressure to make you moan. “Please, it’s so achy.”
Your head tilts backwards from the pleasure of her touch and you miss the sadistic smirk on her face.
“Good.” She states suddenly, her hand pulling away. “Let it.” She adds cruelly. “Mommy’s not going to touch your pretty pussy today. And you’re not going to touch it either. You’re going to leave it all needy, just like this.” She instructs. “Bad girls don’t cum.”
#writing#lesbian#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x y/n#top!wanda#bottom!reader#wanda maximoff smut#scarlet witch
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