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startears0153 · 4 months

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☾ Seeing you cry in your sleep

How they react to finding you crying silently in your sleep.

☾ Characters: Argenti, Blade, Dan Heng, Dr. Ratio

☾ Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, GN Reader, StellaronHunter!Reader in Blade's, Ratio (affectionately) calling you fool in his part

Might write a 2nd part with Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt and Luocha (and maybe Sampo) in the future :)

Argenti

Upon entering your shared cottage, Argenti finds you sleeping on the chair by the window. They must’ve fallen asleep while admiring the scenery of the falling snow outside, Argenti thought with a fond smile.

For a moment, Argenti found himself unable to move, for his emerald colored eyes were transfixed upon the serene beauty of the scene before him. The falling snow, the white winter wonderland serving as the perfect backdrop to accentuate the beauty of your resting figure.

Still, he realized it probably wouldn’t do well if you were to fall sick from the cold. So, he quietly made his way through the room and draped a blanket over your figure.

That was when he noticed the presence of tears on the corners of your eyes.

For a while, Argenti thought his eyes were deceiving him. It wasn’t until he saw a lone tear fall from your eye that he was finally hit by the fact that you were, indeed, crying in your sleep.

His heart ached upon the sight and he instinctively reached to cup your cheek; his thumb gently caressing the corner of your eye, wiping away the stream of tears that began to fall like tender snow.

After some deliberation on how to proceed, Argenti would kneel before your sleeping figure before carefully stirring you awake with a gentle squeeze to your hand and softly calling out your name.

“Good morning my dear,” He would greet you with a tender smile, though you could easily sense the twinge of sadness and melancholia lingering in his voice. “I apologize if this may sound unpleasant to you but … you were crying in your sleep. Is … Is everything alright?”

He would fret over you, but he would try to keep it to a minimum lest he were to accidentally do more harm than good. He was obviously worried about what ailed you, but again, what mattered most to him was your comfort.

Regardless of whether you choose to speak of the reason for your tears, Argenti would remain by your side, kneeling before you as he held your hand in his.

If he could, he would do anything in his power to vanquish the reason behind your tears. He never wants you to shed tears, neither in sleep or wake, ever again.

Blade

It was almost time for the opening act of Elio’s Script. Blade comes to searches for you in the meeting spot, and finds you asleep above one of the many wooden crates of the abandoned factory.

How carefree, Blade thought with a scoff. Even so, Blade’s heart blossoms with warmth, that very same warmth that is born from his affection and adoration for you and all your silly antics.

If he could, he would let you rest for longer and perhaps even join you in your restful slumber, resting your head on his shoulder. But alas, the Script takes priority and it was almost time to begin.

So he reaches to shake your shoulder … but then froze upon the sight of tears falling from your eyes.

Blade has never been one for tears. In a different life, perhaps, he would have been. But tears have no meaning for Blade. Crying does not provide one with salvation, no matter how much one cries, what was lost could never return.

And yet, the sight of your tears shook him to his core.

Blade didn’t know what to do. What could he do anyway? Reach for your face and wipe away your tears with his thumb? Lean towards you and kiss the corners of your eyes, all in hopes for your tears to stop cascading from your eyes? How ridiculous. As though that would solve any of your problems.

So, he does what he is supposed to. Grab your shoulder and gently shake you awake.

“Wake up. It’s almost time to begin.” He says brusquely, already turning around for his back to face you. “Wipe your tears. Don’t let the enemy see even a single hint of weakness.”

You would be shocked upon realizing you were crying in your sleep and hurriedly wiped away the remains of your tears. Not soon after, you join him by the ledge of the building, watching over the city with puffy eyes. Blade would steal a glance at you and then he would say,

“Do not be hasty. I am with you.”

You didn’t need to try hard to know that he wasn’t just talking about the battle ahead.

Dan Heng

The hour was late when Den Heng jolted awake from his sleep. He dreamt of a vague memory of his past incarnation and saw a nightmare where his friends were swept away by the waves; of you disappearing in the dark sea of clouds.

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Dan Heng takes a moment to recompose himself before shifting to rest on his side, thus meeting the familiar sight of your back. They’re here, Dan Heng thought to himself, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. It’s all just a dream.

Not wanting to wake you, Dan Heng simply stares at your back. The steadiness of your breathing, a reminder that you are alive. Gingerly, Dan Heng reaches to subtly trace soothing lines on your back. Truth be told, it was probably more soothing for him than you.

Then suddenly, there was a slight change in the pattern of your breathing. More feeble and erratic. Concerned that he might have woken you up, Dan Heng pushed himself up to check on your condition …

… Only to find you crying in your sleep.

Upon the sight of your tears, falling so steadily onto the fabric of your already damp pillow, Dan Heng’s breath hitches. He shakes your shoulders, calling your name again and again until your eyes open and meet his pairs of jaded blue.

“You’re crying.” He said bluntly, his brows furrowed as a tell-tale sign of his bleeding concern for you. “What? No, I’m fine. Yes, I woke up because of a nightmare but I’m more concerned for you.”

The two of you would both end up sitting on the bed, both fretting over each other’s condition. You asked Dan Heng about his nightmare and he would reply that it was the usual. He asked you about your tears, and you replied you didn’t even know you were crying until Dan Heng pointed it out.

In the end, the both of you would end up embracing each other tightly, providing both comfort and strength to one another. You both wind up laying on the bed in each other’s arms.

Dan Heng would stay awake for a while after you’ve fallen asleep, gazing at your resting figure in hopes that he would never have to see you cry in your sleep once more.

Dr. Ratio

After a long day full of shameful displays of stupidity from the people around him, Dr. Veritas Ratio was done for the day and is free to visit his beloved. I cannot wait to see them, Ratio thought as he made large strides towards your office. It has been far too long since I’ve had an intellectually stimulating conversation!

He thinks of all the topics he could talk with you, ranging from the most mundane things such as how each other’s days went and the more complex like the discourse regarding a recent hot theory.

Imagine his disappointment when he enters your office and finds you dead asleep on your desk.

Frowning, Ratio rationalizes that you were probably just as exhausted as he was and that there were plenty of chances for conversation when the two of you have rested up. Still. He was disappointed.

He walked towards your desk and took a moment to observe your resting figure. You were sleeping above your paper reports. Now that’s a lark. But then, he noticed something else.

Your papers were soaked, all from the tears that were still cascading from your eyes.

Upon the sight of your tears, Ratio’s heart seemingly ceased to beat. There was shock, confusion, concern and all these strong emotions that meld with one another. In a rare moment of panic, Ratio shook you awake, forcing you away from your stained papers.

“You fool, just what do you think you’re doing?!” He shouts, worry bleeding through his tone. “Don’t ‘What the hell, Veritas’ me! You’re the one crying on your reports and making them unreadable!”

You would be confused until you realize that you were crying in your sleep. You touched the lingering wetness on your cheeks and laughed feebly. It was probably the pent up stress, you offered weakly, annoying Ratio once more.

You expect a lecture, but unexpectedly, Ratio places hand behind your head, brings you to rest against his broad shoulder.

“You are a fool for ruining those reports. If you must cry … cry on my shoulder instead.”

It was a silly attempt at cheering you up, but you appreciated it all the same.

Hehe this was a super fun prompt to write! Might write a second part with Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt and Luocha when I feel the inspiration hitting me 👀

Also still semi-working on banners ... sigh, lets hope I find a good theme soon enough.

Thank you for reading 💖

#honkai: star rail #hsr x reader #argenti x reader #blade x reader #dan heng x reader #dr. ratio x reader #ratio x reader #angst #hurt/comfort #hsr imagines #hsr headcanons #StarTearsWrites

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alienzil · 7 months

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DP x DC Prompt/notion # 4

So Danny has the classic reveal gone bad scenario and the Fentons try to capture him to "tear him apart molecule by molecule".

Danny escapes into the ghost zone with the help of Sam, Tucker and Jazz but he's in bad shape.

What Danny had never been told is that newly formed ghosts like himself are considered babies until they're at least a century old. Baby ghosts generally either have parents if they're born in the realms or get adoptive parents shortly after forming and are highly dependent on their guardians until their core is fully matured. Every ghost can sense a baby and has the instinctual urge to protect them (especially if they haven't been adopted yet). Every baby ghost has the instinctual urge to find a compatible parent or parents. A baby won't imprint on just anyone and will hide or run from most ghosts until they find one that they can imprint on. The majority of the ghosts that have met Danny never knew he was a baby, both because he already had his living parents and his emotional connection with them was close enough to satisfy his ghostly need for a parental bond and because, with his abnormally high power level, it never would have occurred to them to think he might be an infant. A newborn ancient is exceptionally rare and your average denizen of the realms will have never seen one. Basically, to your average ghost, Danny feels like he's eons old and any hint of "baby" they get from him mostly just ticks them off because they think he's mocking them and pretending to be less powerful than they know he is. The other ancients knew of course, but they also knew that Danny's human guardians were satisfying his needs for now and most assumed he would be adopted once they passed. Half a century or so isn't very long to wait after all and the new baby is half human so it's probably best to let these things happen naturally.

Knowing none of this, when Jack and Maddie rejected Danny it severed their connection and the backlash of losing that bond caused his Phantom self to naturally revert to a smaller form that more closely matched his actual age as a ghost. Still in shock and operating almost entirely on instinct and emotion, Danny started to search the Realms for what he had lost. He needed to find his parents.

*****

Meanwhile, John Constantine had a problem with an upstart cult that had summoned an interdimensional...something. He really didn't care. Whatever it was, was behind a barrier they'd thrown up that he couldn't breach. He'd be perfectly willing to leave them to their own mess except their whole damn town was behind the barrier so now it was his problem to fix.

Interdimensional problems call for interdimensional solutions so he'd called Bob. Bob wasn't really his name (nor was he really a he) but he hadn't objected to the moniker or the pronouns John had given him so Bob it was. Bob was an eldritch nightmare of a creature who kept the bulk of his true form politely out of this dimension and only just barely inched in for a quick visit every 20 years or so. Constantine had worked with him before, he was a pretty nice bloke for an unknowable monstrosity.

Bob fed on energy and his usual diet consisted largely of the background energy of the cosmos but he liked a special treat now and then (who doesn't?). So John made a deal with him. Bob took care of his little cult problem and John spent a very... ahem... "energetic" evening with Bob in exchange. Not really a hardship on John's part, Bob wanted more energy, not less, and knew a thing or two about how to get it.

*****

The creature known as Bob was preparing to withdraw the small portion of his presence that was currently on Earth with the human called John Constantine when another part of him noticed something. Bob smiled to himself (as much as Bob could smile that is). What a wonderful coincidence that the Constantine human's energy would be so perfectly matched to this other beings and that Bob was here at the exact right moment to assist with their meeting!

"I thank you again for sharing your energy John Constantine. It was delicious as always."

"Don't mention it mate. Look me up next you're in town and feeling a bit peckish. Always happy to oblige." John replied with a smirk.

"I will heed your words John Constantine and seek your presence upon my return. As a token of my affection for you, a small gift that you might enjoy until we meet again." Bob briefly opened a portal between the Infinite Realms and the House of Mystery as he left. He hoped his human friend would enjoy the gift. Bob had never spawned himself but he'd heard parenthood was one of life's great joys.

"Gift?" John had just enough time to say as he was hit in the face by a chirping, wriggling, excited creature.

"Oi!" John stumbled back a step as he reached up to try and pry the thing off his face. He managed to grab ahold of the damn beast and held it out at an arms length to get a look at it. Deprived of his face, it wrapped its body tightly around his arm and nuzzled its head into the palm of his hand.

John stared at the creature. It was the roughly the length of his arm, mostly black with white markings and white floating hair on a human shaped head and face, complete with glowing green eyes. It was vaguely snake shaped...or... one might say...tentacle shaped...

John gulped and pictured Bob. Bob's appearance, or what little bit of his appearance John was able to perceive, was a writhing mass of black tentacles that glowed a bright, luminous green.

So, the "gift" Bob had left him mostly had Bob's coloring and was kinda Bob shaped. Except it had small human arms and hands and a tiny mostly human head and face and... was that his nose?!

"Oh bollocks, I'm a dad!"

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #John Constantine is Danny's dad #Except he actually isn't #Except he really is now since Danny imprinted on him #Little baby man #Bob the eldritch entity #Prompt/notion

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dotster001 · 8 months

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Meeting Their Future Kids With You

Summary: Vil/Idia/Crewel/Crowley/Malleus/Rook x gn! Reader. A child suddenly appears. And it seems to have a connection to you? Requested by @stygianoir

A/N: It's in my pinned post, and I've mentioned this in a couple posts, but if this is the first of my stuff you've read, I view NRC as an actual college, so reader here is 18+. If it makes you more comfy, imagine it as grad school age.

CW: spreading my asexual Malleus agenda, especially now that I've been spoiled for the fact that the dragon lays an egg and all it needs is love to hatch. ASEXUAL MALLEUS CAN NOW BE CANON Y'ALL!!!! Anyways...his kid is the only one with physical descriptors, so do with that what you will 😅

3k followers masterlist

Something was wrong. There was a presence at Ramshackle that shouldn't be there. Could it be? Could someone be trying to steal you from him? No! He had only just started courting you! It wasn't fair.

He poofed into your sitting room and froze.

You were snuggling what looked like…a small version of him?

You looked up and your jaw dropped.

"Wait, I thought this was you!" You looked back down at the kid who giggled and made grabby hands at Malleus.

"Daddy!"

Ah! Yes, he understood now. Draconia genes were strong. This child clearly was barely old enough to even hold a human form, it was not out of the realm of possibility that it had accidentally used a time travel spell. Perhaps that was even the child's unique magic.

He walked over to the child in your arms, scooped it up, and gave it a soft kiss between the two tiny horns emerging from their head.

"It's wonderful to see you, but it's time to go home, little one."

The child nodded sagely and vanished in a puff of green smoke. You looked at him in complete confusion, but he simply laughed, repeating his kiss, but this time to your forehead.

He knew you were his soulmate.

He knew with a single glance. The familiarity the twin girls before him held in their gazes, the way they carried themselves, the hats on their heads. Everything screamed his influence.

And though that didn't make any sense, Rook knew his eye and his instincts were never wrong.

But there was something about the girls that was distinctly…..

"Rook! Hi- aw shit, please tell me you didn't kidnap some kids!"

So distinctly you.

The two girls shared what, to anyone but Rook, would seem like an unsettling smile as you approached the silent scene.

"Non non, they are just passing through, oui, petites fleur's?"

"Oui," they said simultaneously, grinning at you, their eyes taking in your every facial twitch.

"Uh, okay? Relatives of yours?"

"One could say that."

All three of them laughed, leaving you confused and a little frightened.

It was a normal day like any other. Searching for Epel who had once again fled his lessons.

And he had found him in the worst possible place. A mud pile with an already very muddy teenage girl.

Epel splashed the girl with a childish giggle, and she laughed hysterically.

"Papa was right, you were crazy!" She giggled making a mud ball and throwing it at him.

He dodged and it hit Vil.

"Ah shit," she whispered under her breath. But after a second of reflection, she grinned. "Wait, why am I scared? You're not the boss of me."

Vil glared, and she suddenly looked apologetic again.

Both Epel and the girl stared at the ground, completely avoiding eye contact.

"What school are you from?" Vil snapped at the girl.

She snickered but said nothing.

"Who do I report you to?"

She laughed louder. "Nah, I don't have to tell you shit."

"Language," he snapped, and tears filled her eyes.

"It was all uncle Epel's fault. I told him I didn't want to play in the mud, but he made me do it!"

"You absolute rat!" Epel shouted, picking up some mud and preparing to throw it.

Vil cast a quick spell, freezing both of you in place. He stormed over and snatched each of your wrists, preparing to storm off with the two trouble makers in tow, when he saw the shimmering gold bracelet on your wrist. Engraved on it was L/N-Schoenheit.

He stared for a moment, then groaned.

"Epel, remind me to never let you around my future child."

"He's my godfather," the girl grinned impishly, and Vil felt a part of himself die.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for my dad. You look like you could be related to him."

Idia knew he shouldn't have left his room today. All he wanted was a snack, and to maybe see you if you happened to not be in a class right now, and now this extroverted teenager was asking about his dad.

What the absolute fuck?

He quickly pulled out his ipad, typing something about how anyone related to him wasn't worth finding, when the twerp yanked the iPad out of his hands.

"Nevermind, I figured it out," the kid snorted. "Hi dad!"

Idia started stuttering. Not only was this twerp an extroverted teen who stole his iPad, he was also insane.

"Nah, nah, not today, not today…" Idia started muttering under his breath.

The kid rolled his eyes.

"Forgot about this part. Guess they really did change you for the better," he started typing something on his watch, and a hologram popped up, showing the kid, you, and Idia…? Your and Idia's faces were a bit more lined than they were right now but….it was definitely you.

He stared at the hologram, his hair turning a bright red.

"Oh! Hey Idia!" Your voice called from behind him.

He turned and waved to you shyly, then turned back to the teen. But he was gone.

And the damn boy stole his iPad.

If his hair wasn't already dyed, those two freshmen would have given him gray hair by now.

Once again, they'd made a potion explode in his classroom. And once again, the fallout would be a pain to clean up.

Where you had once sat was a small child. A small child who was looking at him expectantly.

"Well?" She asked.

At first he had assumed this small child was your child form. But no. She looked nothing like you. Though, she did have a similar glint in her eye.

"Who are you?" He asked softly, not wishing to scare the child with the rage that was building up inside him. He'd told you again and again that your friends were trouble, and now look where it got you.

Wait. Where exactly were you?

Before the girl could speak, a red smoke filled the room, and a him with a few more wrinkles appeared, dragging you by the wrist. Your face was covered in a vicious pout.

"I already told them," future Crewel said, eying the freshmen with a vicious glare. "No need to repeat it."

He opened his arms in front of the little girl, a warm smile taking over his features, as the girl climbed into his arms, snuggling into him. He pointed at you and the freshman one more time, said, "Behave." And vanished into red smoke.

Present day Crewel pinched the bridge of his nose, and pointed at you.

"He already said it," you snapped,punching Ace in the shoulder for good measure.

"Morning dad."

"Morning," Crowley muttered tiredly as he sipped his coffee.

Then he choked on it. There should be no one in his office right now. And there should be no one calling him dad.

He looked over and saw a kid who was somewhere between the age of 10 and 13 sorting through his stack of paperwork.

"Pardon me, but do you mind explaining what you're doing?"

The kid looked up and raised a brow in confusion.

"Um, morning paperwork?" He laughed nervously. "Wait did you forget that….uh, nevermind, I'll just go then."

The kid hastily made the papers into a pile, grabbed a backpack, and started to hustle out of the office. Only to be stopped when he bumped into you as you were storming into the office.

"Crowley! You promised you'd fix my goddamn roof!"

"Dad said I wasn't grounded anymore!"

Both of you shouted over the top of each other, and then stared in confusion.

The kid sprinted out of the office, knocking you over in the process.

Dire, meanwhile, released a delighted giggle, his face feeling warm as he grinned at you with a lovesick grin. Only to be annoyed as you brought up your roof again.

"If you excuse me, I have other things to attend to. I assure you that child will only cause trouble."

He ran out of his own office, no intention of actually finding his future son, only intending to hide from you.

Too bad you could always see through him, and were right on his tail.

#3k followers #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #divus crewel x reader #divus crewel #dire crowley x reader #dire crowley

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konigbabe · 11 months

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PERISH

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x gn!reader Word count: 1.6k Tags/warnings: no y/n; manga spoilers (post Shibuya timeline); canon-compliant; angst; death; emotional breakdown; hurt/no comfort; loss; grief Summary: For the first time in a long time, Satoru Gojo, the epitome of strength, breaks. Happy start of JJKS2 writing week.

event masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

November 2018 8 minutes until Satoru Gojo’s unsealing

"Don’t worry, I’ll make it on time. I’m right behind the corner."

"We can wait," Yuji’s voice carries through the car, the static of the Bluetooth speaker occasionally cracking.

It feels like years have passed since you last saw him. Sealed away in the prison realm, Gojo’s state remains a mystery. There’s no telling how being locked in a place where time and space don’t exist can affect even the strongest minds.

That’s what worries you. What if he’ll break? What if he goes crazy on all of you? What if he explodes; wipes you all out with his technique? An endless sea of ‘what if’ swirls inside your mind as you take another turn, the mountains on your left with an ocean view on your right.

"Don’t," you reassure the youngster, "don’t wait any longer."

"You should be here, though," Megumi jumps into the conversation, "You’re closest to that idiot. He’ll want to see you."

His words draw a smile on your lips. It’s finally happening. The sleepless nights are coming to an end with the arrival of your lover.

"Then I’ll just opt for a dramatic entrance while you keep him busy," you respond before tightening your hands on the wheel. A familiar feeling washes over you; sudden knowledge of a new presence. Heart picking up, your eyes search the road for the source while the car’s speed slowly drops.

32 seconds; that’s how long it takes you to locate the source. A curse spirit manifestation stands in the middle of the road, blocking you. Its small hunched build stands a mere meter above the ground; four arms decorated by translucent fins hanging by its body, the prehnite skin glistening in the last rays of today’s sun, giving off a wet, moist appearance.

"Boys," you announce, stopping Yuji’s and Megumi’s bickering while still keeping up the cheerful, light voice in an attempt to not raise suspicions about your current predicament, "don’t wait any longer. Unseal Satoru and stop worrying ‘bout me. It’ll be fine."

Bringing the car to a slow halt, Yuji’s tone shifts into a more attentive one as your name seeps through the speaker before you hang up after one more reassurance.

As you step out of the vehicle, the curse's malevolence engulfs the air, almost tangible in its intensity. It clings to the atmosphere like a poisonous fog, penetrating your senses with a pungent sulfuric odor that threatens to overwhelm you.

Your hand slips inside your jacket to retrieve a carefully preserved seal, reserved for such precarious situations; just like this one.

"I’m sorry," with every footfall, the curse seems to shrink in size, yet its malicious nature grows stronger, the smell of sulfur almost suffocating, "but I’m in a hurry right now and you," pointing the parchment paper towards the spirit, "are in my way."

Swift and precise, your movements carry an aura of practiced precision. With little effort, you firmly press the seal upon the spirit's head, causing it to stumble momentarily before dissipating into thin air, vanquished by the power contained within the sigil.

Yet, the energy lingers.

Stronger than before. Stronger than a second ago. Its absent defense, non-existent attempt to fight or flee…it all makes sense now —

A powerful grip; a strong hand adorned with talons as keen as the finest blades dig into your shoulder as an inhuman force pushes you to the side.

As you're thrust aside, your vision catches a subtle glimmer of chrysolite, a hue that seeps into your perception; its scales are sturdy, each edge honed to a dangerous sharpness. Driven by instinct and the will to protect yourself, you reach out, your hand making contact with the curse spirit’s scaly hide.

The jagged edges of its scales cut into the delicate flesh of your fingers, leaving trails of crimson in their wake.

— it was a decoy.

Your body collides with the unforgiving side of the mountain, back meeting the rough and unyielding surface. A symphony of pain resonates within your bones, their structural integrity compromised as multiple cracks reverberate through your form.

Gasping for breath, your body instinctively seeks solace, but find none amidst the terrain. The curse doesn’t wait either. Swiftly moving forward, it lunges at you. Unforgiving. With a clear intent to strike. To kill.

During Satoru Gojo’s unsealing

There is no pain. The moment the curse’s hand breaches the barrier of your chest, you expect it. Expect some kind of visceral reaction. But there’s none — a gentle pinch, akin to a fleeting touch when the sharp claws first pierce through the protective layers of your breastplate. A slight discomfort upon the feeling of having a foreign object that’s found its place within the confines of your ribs. The barrier of your rib cage offers minimal resistance, yielding to the relentless advance that seeks to reach the very core of your being. The heart.

It all feels confusing.

"Kenjaku sends his regards," it whispers, the words slurred by the razor-sharp fangs that protrude from its mouth.

October 31, 2018 — 8:09 PM

"What’s the worst that can happen?"

Satoru saunters around the corner of the table, his presence punctuated by the audible slurping of juice from a small cartoon container. All while your palms rest on top of the said furniture, fingernails tapping at the surface.

The news has spread fast through the jujutsu community, faster than wildfire. Whispers of an unknown curtain cast around Shibuya an hour ago, trapping all non-sorcerers, innocent civilians, inside its insidious grasp with only one demand: Bring Satoru Gojo.

"Don’t say it like that, Satoru," you turn to face the man whose casual and dismissive demeanor only adds fuel to the worries setting inside your bones.

"They’re a bunch of curses," his hand finds its place on your hip bone while placing the empty container away, "Some special grades, yeah, but they’re weak compared to me. I’ll deal with them, save some people in the meantime, and bam," he snaps his fingers loudly, "We can go home. Get that sunset date you’ve been babbling about. Life is good," he finishes with a kiss on the crown of your head.

Life is good.

You watch the sun dip below the horizon behind the curse spirit’s back, indulging the sinister being in a halo glow.

Yeah. In the end, life was good.

2 hours and 48 minutes after Satoru Gojo’s unsealing

For a moment, he stands still. Unable to look down; frozen in time. The weight of it all seems to bear down upon his shoulders – now that Sukuna’s taken over Megumi’s body, Nanami’s and Yaga’s death, Suguru’s body being used as a vessel, the slow crumbling fall of the Jujutsu world – and now you; being gone.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer of the current time. Yet even his immense power proves futile as the people he loves keep dying on him…because of him.

A burden that threatens to crush him beneath its insurmountable gravity.

The air around him hangs heavy with sorrow, as if the very essence of grief has manifested itself in the atmosphere. A storm of emotions swirls within him; a combination of disbelief, anguish and a gnawing ache that gnashes at the core of his being.

He clenches his fists, fingers trembling with a mixture of sorrow and determination. In that agonizing moment, he finds the strength to finally lower his gaze, to confront the devastating truth that lies at his feet.

Everyone holds their breaths, the weight of his misery echoing in the silence as his eyes meet the lifeless visage of the one he holds dearest.

Of you.

Hand reaching out, his fingers graze the once-soft flesh of your hand; now cold and stiff. It serves as a confirmation of reality. There’s no getting you back, no way Shoko can nurture you back to health with her technique.

You’re gone.

And in that harrowing instant, the façade crumbles. The walls he built to contain his pain come crashing down, and Satoru Gojo, the epitome of strength, breaks.

Crumbling down on his knees, the vulnerability that spills forth from his broken form is raw and unrestrained. Only a handful of those closest to him stand behind to witness the symphony of torment that pierces the silence. Tears stream down his face, each drop carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words, moments you two could’ve spent together.

One hand covering his mouth to silence the guttural sounds, the other reaches out to you, tenderly cradling your lifeless head upon his lap. He clings to the fragile hope that if he could provide just enough warmth and love, you might return to him.

Yuji looks around the room, at the people who silently observe their friend fall apart. Taking a step towards the hunched man, a soft grasp stops him mid step; Kiyotaka shakes his head, pushing his glasses back in place as Shoko looks down. For the first time, she’s unable to figure out her classmate, her childhood friend, the man whose side she’s always stayed by.

"Gojo," Yuji doesn’t allow Kiyotaka to stop him. Believing in what’s right, he stands behind his teacher’s back.

Hand laying on the tense muscle of his shoulder, he doesn’t attempt to comfort Satoru with any words — no words in this universe would bring you back anyway. Instead, his hand just rests there. Unmoving. Gentle.

"Who did it," his words cause Shoko to look back up as Satoru, stone-faced and stoic, speaks in a firm, devoid voice. Imagines of unspeakable horror flashes in his mind as he stands up, towering over the wide-eyed Yuji.

"Tell me now," his eyes search Kiyotaka’s, voice filled with undeniable authority, "I’ll kill them, kill them all."

#fun fact this is the first time I’m actually writing death and mourning #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo angst #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst #gojo satoru angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #moni writes #moni's writing week #jjk writing week #angst

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candy69gurl · 18 days

Text

MISTAKEN TRUST

PAIRING Mahito x f!reader

SYNOPNSIS The reader is a kind person who likes feeding strays. Mahito is taken aback by her charity, which makes her the target of his scheme. Mahito uses her generosity to his advantage, transforming into a dog to capture the reader's attention and earn their trust. (Mahito is a virgin and he experiments with your body)

WARNING non/con, monster fucking, use of tentacles, slight somnophilic, fingering, use of elongated tongue (in mouth and pussy), bondage, dual penetration, use of all the holes), nipple sucking playing pinching, squirting, missonary, doggy, multiple orgasms, enlargement of dick, breast slapping, choking, face fucking, degradation, use of nicknames (toy), raw sex (cumming inside mouth, creampie, ass), clit nibbling & rubbing, over stimulation, mouth fucking after passing out, lactation & breeding kink

NOTE I understand that Mahito isn't universally liked, but believe me, he possesses the ability to provide infinite pleasures beyond what a typical human can offer. This story is tailored for readers who harbor a deep fascination with tentacles.

You make your way down the deserted alleyway, just below your apartment, the sound of your footsteps reverberating. Your gaze drawn towards the neon green eyes gleaming from the shadows at the alley's bend.

Today, you decided to bring a bit more food than usual, hoping to feed every last stray dog in the area. As you scan the alleyway, searching for the furry beings hiding in the shadows, you see them drawing near, detecting your scent and seemingly exhibiting trust in your presence. But, you notice something new - a puppy curled up in a corner, its eyes fixed on you intently. Something about those heterochromia eyes, the way they seem to peer straight into your soul, unsettles you, but you dismiss it as mere coincidence.

"Hey there, little one," you say softly, offering a piece of meat to the puppy. To your surprise, the puppy approaches you cautiously, accepting the food with tentative paws. As you continue to distribute food around the alley, that puppy sticks closely by your side, as if drawn to you. It's odd, but you can't help feeling a strange connection forming between you and the creature.

You notice that the other stray dogs keeping their distance from the peculiar puppy, as if they can sense something off about it. Under the moon's glow, the puppy's dull bluish fur and mismatched eyes catch your attention. As you attempt to feed the other dogs, they scamper away with their meat, an uncommon reaction for you. Your focus shifts to the newcomer puppy.

"Hmm, why do you think the others are acting this way?" you ask the puppy, petting its head gently. "You seem new here." The puppy licks your hand affectionately, seemingly unfazed by the behavior of its fellow canines.

In an instant, the scene shifts from tranquil to chaotic. A large black dog lunges at the newcomer, its jaws clamping down on the smaller puppy's paw with a sickening snap. You jump away in reflex, the sudden aggression startles you, and you instinctively step between the dogs, trying to shield the newcomer from harm. "Stop it!" you yell, your voice trembling with fear and anger.

Your eyes scan the street, seeking out for some stick or pebble to intervene and halt the fight. But suddenly, you hear a shrill, painful wail. You look back at them, the larger dog lets out a whimper before darting away, tail tucked between its legs. Its once-menacing demeanor replaced by fear and bewilderment.

You stare at the new puppy, wide-eyed, trying to comprehend what just happened. It raises its head, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of its mouth before turning back to you, tongue hanging out in satisfaction.

With a mix of concern and admiration, you bend down and carefully inspect the puppy's injured paw. Its tiny body trembles under your gentle touch, but it doesn't whimper or try to escape. Your heart aches for the small creature that defended itself so fiercely against the much larger dog.

"Brave little one, let me take you home" you whisper, cradling the puppy in your arms. Despite its injury, the puppy snuggles closer to you, its tail thumping against your chest in gratitude. "We'll take care of that wound once we get home. You shouldn't have to fight alone, buddy," you say, your voice thick with emotion. With the newfound bond between you and the puppy growing stronger, you make your way back to your apartment, determined to give it care and protection it deserves.

Little did you know that this act of kindness would bind you even more tightly to the enigmatic spirit, whose true intentions remain shrouded in mystery.

Upon returning home, you immediately tend to the puppy's wounded paw. Cleaning the injury, you apply a sterile dressing and wrap it securely with gauze. The puppy remains still throughout the process, its trust in you evident as it allows you to tend to its wounds without struggle. Then you wash him with your own shampoo. Once you finish, you offer the puppy some water, which it drinks eagerly.

"There we go, buddy," you murmur, stroking the puppy's head tenderly. "Just stay here with me for a bit longer. If I take you back there, what if you're attacked again?"

As you sit down on the couch, the puppy nestles into your lap, content and peaceful. You can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of responsibility towards this mysterious creature.

The puppy's unusual features start to catch your attention again. The dull bluish fur, the heterochromia eyes, the way it defended itself so ferociously – it's unlike any dog you've ever encountered. You begin to wonder about its origins, feeling a growing unease in your gut. You decide to do some research, pulling out your phone to search for breeds with similar features.

As you scroll through various results, none seem to match the unique characteristics of the puppy in your lap. A nagging suspicion starts to form in the back of your mind. "You know, I can't seem to find a breed that looks quite like you," you say, looking into the puppy's eyes.

As if understanding your thoughts, the puppy tilts its head, gazing back at you with those eerily intelligent eyes. For a brief moment, you swear its expression revealed a hint of mischief and amusement. But before you can examine further, the puppy closes its eyes and drifts off to sleep, its breathing steady and slow.

Carefully, you lay the puppy down on the bed, tucking a blanket around it to keep it warm. Exhausted from the events of the night, you join the puppy on the bed, wrapping your arm protectively around it as you close your eyes. Sleep comes slowly, your mind still grappling with the peculiarities of the evening. Eventually, the warmth of the puppy and the comfort of your safe space lull you into a deep slumber.

As you drift off to sleep, the puppy's eyes flicker open. With a barely perceptible shift in its form, its body begins to change. Stitches appear on its fur, spreading across the once furry surface. The heterochromia eyes intensify, taking on a life of their own. The puppy transforms into a humanoid-curse, Mahito.

He had been observing you from afar, admiring your every move, particularly your kindness. He noticed your fondness for organims and had to take advantage of it. He wanted to experiment with your mind and body. He had heard from Kenjaku that humans are incredibly sensitive during sex, and he wants to test it out. You were the ideal toy for it, so frail, sweet, and adorable. You were lonely so you took to feeding strays, he had been witnessing you feeding the dogs every night, and yes, that's the perfect time for him to get at you, so he transformed himself as an adorable little puppy to catch your attention.

Despite the transformation happening right beside you, you remain sound asleep, utterly oblivious to the changes occurring. Unnoticed by you, Mahito continues the playful facade, gently grasping your breast through your thin nightshirt. He revels in the texture, tracing the outline of your hardening nipple with his thumb. The sensation sends a thrill through him, fueling his curiosity about you.

His hand curves like a sharp claw, ripping your top extra carefully not to hurt you, exposing your bare breast to the cool air. His lips brush against the sensitive skin, sending a shiver down your spine, unbeknownst to you. He latches onto your nipple, the unexpected sensation causing you to stir slightly in your sleep. You moan softly, your brows creasing in confusion and pleasure.

So these are female breasts.. I heard they start milking if pregnant. So what if I make her pregnant with my baby curses? his eyes gazing your hardened nipples glistening with his saliva.

Mahito sucks harder, relishing the satisfying response he receives. He finds himself entranced by the experience, both sensual and twisted. He can't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation – tormenting a sleeping victim while they remain blissfully ignorant. He can't stop thinking about the ways he is going to play with your body, as he continues his assault. The thought excites him even more, and he sucks harder, his hands roaming freely over your body.

"Humans are so foolish", he whispers mockingly, his voice almost inaudible. His actions become bolder, exploring areas he knows you wouldn't allow if conscious. You squirm beneath him, your body responding to the unwanted touches. Despite your protests in your dreams, Mahito pays no heed, intent on testing the limits of your subconscious mind.

A smile plays on his lips as he observes your reaction, enjoying the control he's gained over you. Ignoring your half-hearted attempts to resist in your sleep, Mahito pulls down your panties, revealing yourself to him fully. His grin widens, fascination etched on his face as he gazes upon your naked form.

His fingers gazing your folds, your clit trying to find the way to your vagina. Found it, with lightning-fast reflexes, he inserts his fingers into you, plunging deep and eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. Your dreams fill with panic and discomfort as you struggle to escape his grasp but to no avail.

Your subconscious mind begs for release, but Mahito merely laughs, his fingers moving in a rhythm meant to tease and torment. He leans in close, whispering into your ear, "Welcome to my game, toy." Your dream self twists and turns, unable to escape his grip. Each thrust of his fingers brings a gasp, your body betraying you even as you plead in your sleep.

So helpless, Mahito smirks, his fingers shifting pace and pressure, eliciting a mixture of pain and pleasure from within you. He watches as you squirm beneath him, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

Just as you're about to reach your breaking point, Mahito abruptly stops his assault. Instead, he leans down and gently nibbles on your clitoris; his tongue elongating, delving into your spasming hole, triggering an electric shock of sensation that shatters your unconscious resistance. Your eyes fly open, gasping as you come back to reality. Panic courses through you as you realize what's happening, your mind struggling to comprehend the situation. Mahito raises his head, locking gaze with you, "Looks like you are awake-"

When your legs suddenly move and you kick him square in the nose, his nose immediately begins to bleed. "W-who the fuck are you?"

He gives a creepy grin, and your eyes widen as you see him recover in an instant. You attempt to push him away, but he effortlessly avoids your flailing leg, maintaining his position above you. His eyes glint with mischievous delight at your shocked face, his smile never leaving his face. "I'm Mahito," he introduces nonchalantly, "and now that you're awake, our game can truly begin."

You try to scream, but the words catch in your throat. Fear washes over you like a tidal wave. Mahito's grin widens as a mass of pale, tentacles sprouts from his body from every direction. Your struggles become frantic, but his grasp proves too strong. Tentacles snaking from his body to wrap around your legs, pinning you firmly to the bed.

One of the tentacles reaches out to shove itself into your mouth, silencing your screams and forcing you into submission. "No need to scream," Mahito teases, his voice dripping with malice. "This is just the beginning. We have so much to explore."

Despite your efforts to free yourself, the tentacles tighten around your limbs, leaving you helpless and vulnerable. Mahito's fingers returning your core, resuming their invasion, delving deeper within you with each twist.

You swallow hard, tears pooling in your eyes as you look into his eyes filled with sadism. "You'll learn to enjoy it, toy," As if in response to his words, more tentacles emerge, wrapping themselves around your breasts and nipples. They constrict, rubbing your sensitive flesh painfully.

Simultaneously, Mahito's three fingers continue their assault, thrusting into you with brutal force. Pain and pleasure collide in a cacophony of sensations, your body shaking violently under his control.

Your eyes dart around the room, searching for a way out, but Mahito keeps his grip firm, his fingers never faltering in their rhythm. "Isn't it exciting?" he asks, his voice tinged with mirth. "Everything you've been missing out on, all the thrills and desires you've ignored. Now, you'll experience them all." His words cut through the chaos in your mind, igniting a spark of curiosity amidst the fear.

With a sudden harsh pinch on your nipples, you release a loud cry as you squirt under his persistent assault. Waves of orgasm wash over you, your body convulsing beneath his touch. Surprise flickers across Mahito's face, and then morphs into admiration. His fingers pause briefly, taking in the sight of you trembling before him. "Incredible, that tightness.. was.. Incredible" he breathes, his voice thick with approval. "Human bodies are incredible," he laughs maniacally.

His tentacle inside your mouth withdraws allowing you to breath. You gasp for air, your chest heaving. You want to run, scream, anything to break free from his hold, but you're paralyzed by fear and shame. Mahito's eyes gleam with triumph as he studies you, pulling his fingers out of you with a wet pop.

"Don't worry," he purrs, leaning in close, "this is just the beginning." He removes all the tentacles except the ones holding you down, letting go of your nipples and breasts.

"W-what are you, how did you get inside?", your voice, struggled. Mahito's grin widens, and he leans down to whisper into your ear, "I am a curse, and I can be anywhere I please." His voice is cold and calculating, promising more torment to come. His body leans over yours, towering you, and you feel his erection pressing against your thigh.

"Get ready, toy," he warns, "we have a lot to discover about each other." His fingers trace the curves of your body, making you shiver with anticipation and dread. As he positions himself between your legs, you struggle weakly against the tentacles restraining you.

"N-no..", you protest. "Yes," Mahito insists, his eyes burning with determination. "Keep resisting but you cannot escape from me." His fingers dig into your hips, pinning you down as he enters you roughly.

You cry out in pain and fear, your walls protesting against the invasion. Mahito thrusts harder, relishing the sounds coming from you. His laughter echoes in the room, filling every corner with his cruelty.

Still pinned under Mahito's weight, you lie there, breathing heavily as he continues his assault. His laughter subsides, replaced by a satisfied hum. As the tentacles retract, you're left exposed, your vulnerability laid bare. Your body remains tense, every muscle strained as you wait for what comes next. Mahito's thrusts become more aggressive, burying himself deep within you with each stroke.

The sheets below you crinkle loudly as you clutch them tightly, seeking solace from the intense stimulation. Mahito's movements sync with your orgasm's buildup, hitting all the right spots with precision. Your breath hitches, and your eyes squeeze shut as the wave of pleasure intensifies. Your body arches off the bed, unable to bear the intensity longer.

"That's it, toy," Mahito murmurs, his voice low and laced with triumph. "Let go, let yourself enjoy it."

Each thrust propels you closer to the edge, the anticipation building to a fever pitch. As you near climax, Mahito increases his pace, driving you towards the brink. His hands find your hips again, guiding you in a rhythm that matches his own. Your heart races, sweat breaks out on your brow as you gasp for air, your body betraying you once more.

"Let me feel you tighten once again." Mahito demands, thrusting faster, pushing you over the edge. You cry out, your orgasm crashing over you like a tsunami. Every contraction of your muscles around him reveals your surrender, your body giving in to his control. Mahito's thrusts become fierce, his own climax approaching rapidly, "Fuck... I will breed you."

As you reach your peak, Mahito follows suit, his own release imminent. His thrusts become erratic, his body shuddering with the force of his ecstasy. He drives deeper, his seed filling your womb, his pleasure intertwining with yours. His breaths are heavy and ragged, his teeth gritted in the height of his climax. Finally, Mahito slows his pace, his breaths steadied and his body relaxed. His weight rests on you, still inside you, yet the urgency was gone.

"I never... EVER .. imagined.. sex feels this good", he speaks through his gritted teeth. The air is thick with the scent of sex, the room resonating with the sounds of your pleasure. He leans down, inserting his elongated tongue into your mouth. Your tongue fighting with his but it lengthens further hitting your uvula. He retracts, his saliva dropping on your face, he smiles sheepishly before speaking again, "Round two?"

"Y-you got to be kidding me..", your eyes widen in anticipation. Mahito chuckles, a sound that puts goosebumps on your skin. He eases out of you slowly, his lingering arousal lending a sense of satisfaction to his actions. "Oh, I'm not done with you yet, toy," he says, tracing a lazy circle on your hip.

"You are a... W-what the hell are you?", you spat at him.

He laughs his member hardening once more ,"You haven't seen 1% of it.. Let me show you, what I can do", with that, pulls you by your ankle, rolling you on your stomach.

One by one, his long gone tentacles encircle your body again, trapping you to the bed with your ass raised high. Their grip is firm but not painful, securing you in a position that leaves you completely exposed. Mahito moves behind you, his erection throbbing with renewed vigor. His hands brush over your hips, sending shivers down your spine.

"Brace yourself, toy," he whispers, the hint of a smile in his voice. "I promised you new experience, didn't I?" He lines up his erection with your entrance, positioning himself for another round.

You curl your lip in disgust, your body trembling with fear and anger. "W-what do you get out of this?" you manage to ask, your voice hoarse from previous exertion.

Mahito's eyes gleam with interest, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "Ah, I love to torment humans. Now I want to use the other hole you have."

Without warning, Mahito slams his cock already lubricated with your and his releases, into you, penetrating your ass with brutal ferocity. A cry escapes you, mingling with his harsh groan of satisfaction. With each thrust, your body jolts, the foreign invasion stretching you wide. The different angle sends shockwaves of discomfort coursing through you, your muscles protesting the violation.

Mahito's thrusts are rapid and unrestrained, each one driven by a hunger that knows no bounds. His hands roam over your body, exploring your curves with a possessive touch. "Feel the difference, toy," he taunts, his voice rough with desire. "I bet you never imagined this, did you?"

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you struggle against the tentacles restraining you. Each thrust is a painful reminder of your captivity. "Please... stop," you whimper, your voice raw and pleading.

"Aw, look at that pussy, clamping on nothing.. I feel bad for it", as soon as Mahito speaks the words, a tentacle slides into your throbbing pussy, stretching you even further. You gasp at the added sensation, your body trembling under the dual invasion. Mahito chuckles, his thrusts becoming more forceful at your reaction. "Looks like your body wants it, toy," he teases, enjoying your reaction.

Mahito's thrusts become more aggressive, driven by a single purpose - to make you lose control. The tentacle inside your pussy mimics his movements, creating friction that builds your pleasure higher. Your body writhes beneath him, the tentacles anchoring you securely to the bed.

"Fuck! Noooo", your whimpers turn into moans as Mahito's tentacle moves in perfect harmony with his cock, sending waves of pleasure and you beg, "Please..." , your voice filled with a mix of agony and delight. "I-I can't take anymore." Mahito's laughter fills the air, his thrusts growing harsher, matching the speed of the tentacle inside you.

"Can't take it?" Mahito snarls, his voice dripping with malice. "You'll take everything I dish out, toy." He plunges deeper, his fingers digging into your hips. The tentacle inside you mirrors his actions, stroking your most sensitive spots.

Your body convulses, caught between pleasure and pain, as Mahito drives you towards the edge. Your cries fill the room, a testament to the chaos within you. Just as you reach your breaking point, Mahito's voice rings out, sharp and commanding, "Cumming again? yet you say you don't like it?"

With a sharp intake of breath, you succumb to the sensations overwhelming you. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body shaking uncontrollably.

As your orgasm peaks, Mahito thrusts harder, his own release drawing near. The tension between you becomes palpable, the air charged with your combined pleasure. Finally, he lets out a fierce growl, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. He pulses inside you, spilling his seed deep within your ass.

His fingers dig into your hips, holding you steady as he finishes. The tentacle inside you withdraws, leaving behind a trail of lingering sensitivity. Your eyes roll, panting heavily as the shudders subside. His eyes revel in your disheveled state, his victory complete.

"Well, wasn't that entertaining?" Mahito asks, his voice laced with satisfaction. The tentacles releasing their hold on you, letting you fall onto the bed in a heap. He steps back, his erection retreating from your ass with a lewd sound. The sudden emptiness makes you wince, your body still adjusting to the aftermath, your eyelids blinking as you start seeing all white.

"No No sweetheart, you cannot passout, not yet, I have seen humans taking more than this" Mahito lifts you effortlessly, your limbs dangling loosely. Your clothes, now torn and ruined, falling away from your body, ripped apart by his razor-sharp tentacles. Naked and vulnerable, you hang in midair, the reality of your situation settling in.

Despite your battered state, Mahito seems pleased with his work. He examines you, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. Then again, Mahito guides his still-erect penis between your legs. He positions himself at your entrance, the tip brushing against your swollen flesh. With a cruel grin, he thrusts inside you, burying himself deep in your pussy. The remnants of his seed trickle from your ass, making a messy contrast against the fresh invasion.

Your body winces at the stretch, but you offer no resistance. Your mind is numb, unable to process the brutality you've endured. Mahito's thrusts are slow and deliberate, relishing in your broken state. The sight of his seed leaking from your ass only fuels his lust further.

"I love this hole, so sensitive," Mahito coos, his breath hot against your ear.

Huddled against Mahito's chest, your body quakes with every thrust. Your face rests against him, exhausted and defeated. Tears streak down your cheeks, mixing with sweat and arousal. In this moment, you're nothing more than a toy to be played with, incapable of escape or resistance.

Mahito grins, enjoying your submission. His thrusts become more frenzied, driven by his arousal and dominance. His grip tightens, holding you firmly against him. "Why'd you stop making those sweet sounds?" he awes, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "Already got used to my cock?"

Drool trickles down your chin, evidence of your surrender. Your eyes roll back, lost in the sensations he's inflicting upon you. Mahito's thrusts become more erratic, his pleasure escalating alongside yours. "Now now, I cannot enjoy when my toy is not responding."

In a sudden burst of power, Mahito enlarges his erection. Your body screams in protest, the unexpected expansion threatening to tear you apart. Your head thumps against his chest involuntarily, your cries muffled by the contact.

"Oh, look at that!" Mahito exclaims, amused by your reaction. "Fits perfectly now!" His thrusts become faster, the new size of his cock stretching you impossibly.

"G-gonna die.. p-please stop", your hands grip his hair, pulling some of his strands, out of pain.

Mahito chuckles, his thrusts continuing relentlessly. "Not tonight, toy," he promises, his words thick with delight. "Just a little more and you'll be begging for more."

Your pleas fall on deaf ears, drowned out by his laughter. Your body betrays you, your orgasm edging closer with every brutal thrust. His hand cups your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his.

"See? Pain and pleasure, intertwined," he murmurs, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "It's beautiful, isn’t it?"

Your breath hitches, your body betraying you once more. "P-please..." you whisper, the edges of your orgasm sharpening.

"What is it, toy?" Mahito asks, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Ask nicely, and maybe I'll grant your wish."

Trembling, you struggle to find your voice. "Make... make me cum again," you manage, your body trembling on the precipice of ecstasy. "Please..."

Mahito smirks, the tension in your body a clear indicator of your impending climax. He increases his pace, driving you closer to the edge. "Oh?," he purrs, your torment his entertainment.

Mahito's thrusts become frantic, your body clenching around him as you teeter on the edge of another orgasm. Your pleas grow louder, the raw desperation palpable. "Please," you whine, your nails digging into his chest. "I need it, please!"

He leans down, his lips grazing your ear. "What a change.."

Two tentacles snake around your waist, holding you securely in place. Mahito's thrusts grow even more intense, the pain from his girthy shaft bruising your insides. You cry out, unable to take all the pleasure inflicted on you.

"Such thrilling sounds," Mahito murmurs, his thrusts growing more desperate. Your body arches, desperate for relief.

One of Mahito's tentacles slithers towards your ass, entering with ease. The remnants of his earlier release drip down, mingling with your fluids. Your body convulses, the dual invasion pushing you closer to the brink.

You bite your lip hard, tears streaming down your face. Mahito's laughter fills the room, his enjoyment apparent.

"Ah, so humans enjoy pain this much?" Mahito says, his voice thick with

One of Mahito's tentacles strikes your breast, the slap leaving a faint red mark. His other tentacle wraps around your neck, cutting off your airflow. Simultaneously, another finds your clitoris, rubbing insistently.

Your body convulses, the torment pushing you to the edge. The tentacle around your neck tightens, the mix of pain and pleasure overwhelming you.

You gasp, struggling to breathe. Despite the suffocation, your body reacts to the stimulation. "You like that, don't you?" Mahito taunts, the tendril on your clit picking up its pace. "The perfect balance of discomfort and ecstasy."

With every thrust, you're propelled closer to the edge. Your lungs burn, the need to breathe overshadowed by your mounting orgasm, your body writhing beneath his assault

Finally, you crest the wave. Your body shudders, the simultaneous assault of pain and pleasure catapulting you into oblivion. A scream rips from your throat as you lose yourself in the rush. Mahito watches, his own release imminent.

His tentacles tighten, his thrusts growing more urgent. With a savage roar, Mahito empties himself within you, his semen flooding your core. His hold on you doesn't loosen until he's finished, your body limp in his grasp. He pulls out slowly, his dick turning to it's original size, the remnants of his seed spilling from your body. The tentacle around your neck releases you last, giving way for you to gasp for air.

"Now, wasn't that lovely?" Mahito asks, his breath ragged. He caresses your cheek, his expression a mix of satisfaction and amusement.

You stare up at him, your chest heaving as you catch your breath. Tears stream down your face, the lingering throbbing between your legs a testament to the experience.

"Don't look at me like that, I am not done experimenting your body" Mahito sets you roughly, onto the bed, before you can react.

"Open up.. Time to use this mouth," he commands, his erection aimed at your mouth. Reluctantly, you obey. Mahito slides into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him tasting the essence of sex, as he starts to thrust.

At the same time, his tentacles find their way back into your already sensitive holes, resuming their invasive dance. Your eyes widen in shock, your mind reeling from the intensity. The combination of sensations overwhelms you - Mahito's cock in your mouth, his tentacles in your most intimate places. You struggle to keep up, your mind spinning.

Mahito's thrusts grow more forceful, his grip firm on your hair. "Oh yes, so good," he praises, his movements intensifying. The tendrils in your ass and pussy follow suit, stretching your limits. Your moans mingle with his grunts, filling the room with raw emotion.

"I told you, I'm not done yet," Mahito growls, his voice thick with lust. He punctuates his words with deep thrusts, his eyes locked on yours. You writhe beneath him, unable to escape the onslaught, throat buldging with each thrust.

Your mind races, trying to process the sensations coursing through you. The dual penetrations are overwhelming. It isn't long before the onslaught becomes too much. Each movement triggers a fresh wave of pleasure, your body reaching its breaking point. Your orgasm collides with you, washing away everything else, your nails digging into the sheets. Mahito picks up on your reaction, his thrusts turning feral. The tentacles in your ass and pussy synchronize, driving you to the brink. Your eyes roll back, your mind spiraling into oblivion. Just as you reach the peak, you lose consciousness. Mahito's cock remains in your mouth, your world fading to black.

Despite your unconsciousness, Mahito continues his relentless assault. He thrusts deeper, pounding into your mouth with renewed vigor. Your lips clamp down instinctively around him, your body still writhing in response to his actions.

With a final roar, Mahito releases, his seed filling your mouth. Your body jerks involuntarily, swallowing involuntarily as he floods your mouth. The tendrils in your holes retreat, satisfied with their work. Mahito slows down, his breathing heavy. He gazes down at you, a twisted smirk playing on his lips.

"That was... quite the performance," he muses, pulling out of your mouth. "I must say, I rather enjoyed that." He leans closer, his gaze flickering on your unconscious face, ''Gonna stick around you for a while" His smirk widens into a grin, his voice low and taunting.

He steps back, leaving you sprawled on the bed, his semen still dripping from your lips. A chilling laugh echoes in the room then, everything goes silent.

You lay there, breath ragged and heart racing, even in your unconscious state. The taste of Mahito lingers on your tongue, his semen a bitter reminder of what just occurred.

The next morning dawns, casting sunlight through the window. As your eyes flutter open, remnants of fear linger in your subconscious. Glancing beside you, you see the puppy nestled in the same spot it occupied since last night. Your mind churns with the haunting remnants of the nightmares that plagued your sleep. Sensing your wakefulness, the puppy springs into action, leaping onto you with eager excitement. Its innocent gaze meets yours, tenderly licking your cheek and nuzzling its head against yours, eliciting a smile from you. In that moment, the memory of the night's unsettling experience (was it bad?) fades into the background, replaced by the warmth and affection of your furry companion.

Suddenly, you experience a sensation—the unmistakable feeling of pain spreading throughout your entire body. You pull the blankets away from your body.. There you are.. Lying naked, bruises and marks all over your body.

You look back at the puppy who's demeanor is now changed. It glances up at you, a mocking expression crossing its features. It bares its teeth in a twisted imitation of Mahito's smirk, its eyes gleaming with malice. The resemblance is uncanny, causing your stomach to turn.

For a moment, it seems as if the puppy speaks, its thoughts seeping into your mind. ''You'll never escape me,'' Panic sets in, realizing the disturbing truth. The puppy is indeed a part of Mahito, a manifestation of his twisted control over you.

''Wait! Who are you?'' you demand, scooting away from the creature. ''What... what does he want from me?''

The puppy tilts its head, its stance shifting to mimic Mahito's smug attitude. It gives you another smirk, identical to Mahito's menacing grin from the previous night.

Your heart races, and you freeze. Could it really be Mahito's doing? Or is it just your imagination playing tricks on you?

Frustration bubbles over, and you finally snap. With a sudden burst of anger, you strike the puppy, sending it tumbling off the bed. It lands on the floor with a soft thud, yelping in surprise.

''Get away from me, dog,'' you croak, pushing him away with a weak hand. ''This ain't funny anymore.''

The puppy whines softly, tilting its head as if confused. Its eyes seem almost pleading, begging you to accept its affection.

Feeling vulnerable and violated, you push yourself up. ''Go away,'' you insist, glaring at the small creature.

But the puppy persists, nuzzling against you, seeking comfort. Tears fill the puppy's eyes as it cowers, tail tucked between its legs. ''Don't... don't hurt me... please,'' it seems to beg, its pitiful whimpers echoing in the room, "please trust me."

Dividers from @/cafekitsune

IF YOU WANT A PART 2 PLEASE COMMENT

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nahoney22 · 16 days

Note

Congrats on 4,500k honey! Now I know you’ve already done this before but please I beg of you can we have some more first kisses with the bad batch? 🥹 it’s okay if you choose not to! Many thanks 💜

First Kisses 2.0

All Bad Batch Boys X Female Reader (can be read as GN)

Warnings: First Cheek and Lip Kisses with The Bad Batch. Mostly Fluff, Spontaneous Kisses, Some Angsty Kisses. Injury to Reader. Can also be read as GN. Not Proofread, A Little Rushed.

Authors note: of course you can bestie! Enjoy! 😚 some fluff before the finale! 😭

First instalment

Echo 💋

On the cheek:

“Echo, I’m fine. Honestly.” You laugh softly, watching as the Clone inspects every inch of your skin for injuries after a very narrow miss on the last mission.

"You narrowly escaped a blast," he remarks, frustration laced with also relief.

"And I owe that to you," you counter, recalling his swift rescue that spared you from harm.

Perched on the control panel, your legs swing gently as he inspects your hand, searching for any sign shrapnel pieces. With a soft smile, you meet his gaze, “Is there anyway I can thank you?” You ask only for your curiosity to be piqued by his hesitation.

His expression shifts, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty crossing his features. "I... I'm not sure. You don't have to," he stammers, his composure momentarily faltering under your gaze.

"But I want to," you insist, your eyes alight with sincerity as you hold his gaze.

“Do you… have something in mind?" he asks, his voice betraying a hint of anticipation as he tidies up the supplies.

After a moment's contemplation, an idea forms in your mind. "Actually, yes."

As he stands before you, you extend a finger, silently urging him closer. His eyes widen in anticipation, and he leans in, allowing you to press a tender kiss to his cheek when he’s close enough. "Thank you, Echo," you murmur softly, pulling back to gauge his reaction.

His bewilderment is evident, but a flicker of warmth spreads across his features. "That's... that's okay. Anytime.”

On the lips:

Okay, this time was too close.

In the dim light of your bunk, the weight of the recent mission hangs heavy in the air, amplified by the throbbing pain in your head. Echo's presence is comforting. Yet, he doesn’t say a word to you.

As he fusses over you, checking your bandages a sense of frustration and exhaustion settles over you and unable to bear the silence any longer, you muster the strength to voice your concern.

"Echo, what's wrong?" you inquire softly, your voice strained from the pain, as he prepares to leave your side.

He pauses, his movements faltering as he turns back to you, his expression a mixture of anger and regret. "You could have been killed," he breathes out heavily, his words carrying a weight to it.

"I know," you respond with a weary smile, "but I'm still here."

His gaze softens as he kneels before you, his hand instinctively finding solace in the strands of your hair. "I should have protected you better," he murmurs.

You shake your head gently, wincing at the pain. "You would have risked your life," you remind him softly.

His lips part, a flicker of resolve in his eyes as he meets your gaze. "For you, I would," he admits, his voice filled with unwavering determination. "I... I care a lot about you."

A rush of warmth floods your chest at his confession, your heart pounding in response. "Don't say that..." you protest weakly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"But it's true," he insists, his gaze unwavering as he lays bare his emotions. "I really care for you."

You fall silent, the weight of his words sinking in, before a smile curves your lips. With a gentle touch, you cup his cheek, silently urging him closer. In a moment of shared understanding, he leans in, expecting another kiss on his cheek. Yet, to his soft surprise, your lips find his, the kiss tender and fleeting.

"I care for you too," you whisper against his lips, the words a promise.

He gasps at your touch, his hand and scomp gently cradling your face as he moves his lips along with yours, knowing that he could never live another day without the feeling of your kiss again.

Hunter 💋

On the cheek:

"Have you found what you're looking for?" Hunter's voice breaks the tranquility as he joins you amidst the foliage, his gaze scanning the array of plants as he kneels beside you.

"Not yet," you reply with a hint of disappointment, your passion for herbalism driving your search for a rare medicinal herb, a desperate need since resources are now scarce since being on the run.

Hunter nods, but a subtle sheepishness colours his demeanor, his eyes evading yours as he fidgets slightly. Sensing his unease, you pause and turn to him. "Hunter, is everything alright?" you ask softly.

He hesitates for a moment before extending a hand, revealing a delicate flower nestled between his fingers. "I, uh, came across this and thought it might look nice in your hair," he mumbles, his words tinged with a rare vulnerability.

Surprised by his gesture, you accept the flower with a smile, touched by his unexpected sweetness. "Really?" you murmur, tucking the bloom into your hair. "That's incredibly thoughtful of you, Hunter. Thank you."

A warmth tints your cheeks before you find yourself leaning in, planting a kiss on his cheek. His sharp inhale of breath at the touch had you pulling back, completely embarrassed by your reaction. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to—" you begin, flustered by your own boldness.

But Hunter's warm smile reassures you, his eyes crinkling with fondness. "I didn't mind at all. I'm just glad you liked it.”

In the quiet intimacy of the moment, a fleeting connection sparks between you both, a silent exchange of unspoken emotions. A shiver dances down your spine as his gaze locks with yours, a subtle tension simmering between you.

Caught in the moment, your eyes inadvertently drift to his lips, mirroring the silent invitation reflected in his own gaze. A shared understanding passes between you.

With a gentle resolve, Hunter closes the distance between you, his breath mingling with yours as his nose brushes against yours.

“Hunter, we are ready to go," Tech's voice interrupts the moment through a comm, breaking the spell that held you captive. With a reluctant sigh, you exchange a brief glance, silently acknowledging that this was not the right time.

On the lips:

In the quiet sanctuary of the ship, you find yourself caught in a spell, twirling the flower in your hair that Hunter had given you, the memory of his gaze lingering like a sweet melody in your mind. From across the ship, his eyes, full of unspoken words, steal glances at you, silent conversation being said.

As the others drift off to sleep, Hunter finally approaches, his voice a low murmur that sends butterflies dancing in your stomach. Leaning against the wall, his proximity intoxicates you, the air thick with excitement.

"We should talk about earlier," he begins, his voice intoxicating.

Summoning courage you didn't know you had, you meet his gaze, your heart pounding with adoration. "Or perhaps we could finish what we started?" you suggest, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

A spark of excitement lights up his eyes, his smile soft. "I like that idea," he murmurs, his hand finding its place on your hip, drawing you closer.

With a daring smile, you lean in, your lips meeting his in a tender kiss that sends your mind reeling. Warm, gentle lips slot perfectly between your own, hands tangling in his hair as you both try to stay as quiet as possible so the others don’t wake up.

Wrecker 💋

On the cheek:

"Hey, do ya want to grab a bite to eat or somethin’?" Wrecker's voice breaks through your thoughts, drawing your attention to his familiar grin.

"That sounds great!" you respond eagerly, accepting his hand as he effortlessly helps you up from the grass before you both set off, the ease of conversation flowing between you.

As you’re walking, you can't ignore the way his eyes had lit up in your presence, a warmth spreading through you at the thought of him liking you more than a friend.

Entering the bustling market, a myriad of tantalising scents fills the air, but your senses are drawn to a fruity and fragrant cuisine. "Wanna try this one?" you suggest, gesturing towards the inviting stall.

"Definitely. Smells delicious!" Wrecker agrees, but before you can reach for your credits, his large hand gently stops you.

"I'll get it. My treat," he insists, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"Are you sure?" you ask softly, touched by his gesture.

"Positive," he affirms with a grin.

Grateful for his kindness, you lean up to his height, planting a soft kiss on his scarred cheek. "Thank you," you murmur, the warmth of his smile melting your heart.

Wide-eyed, Wrecker stares at you in surprise, his laughter bubbling up at your unexpected gesture. "Woah! What was that for?"

"For being sweet enough to treat me," you explain with a grin, accepting the food from the vendor as you continue your stroll through the market.

"If a kiss is the price, I should treat ya more often," Wrecker jokes, but beneath his playful tone, you can't help but wonder if there's a hint of truth to his words. Only time will tell.

On the Lips:

The memory of that innocent kiss on Wrecker's cheek lingers, replaying over and over in your mind. Despite its simplicity, you couldn't shake the excited reaction it had evoked from him.

One day, as you meticulously clean your gear and Wrecker's, he enters the ship with a grin, his gaze finding yours before he approaches you. "You don't have to do tha’ for me," he chuckles, taking a seat in front of you and admiring his now gleaming helmet.

"I know," you reply simply, shrugging. "I just wanted to."

Wrecker watches you for a moment, his gaze softening as he meets your eyes, a warmth spreading through your cheeks. "What are you looking at?" you ask playfully.

"Someone pretty," he blurts out, his admission catching you off guard, but you can't help but giggle as he becomes flustered.

"Well, you're not too bad yourself, handsome," you tease, a hint of truth underlying your words. His shy laughter only adds to the warmth that fills the air between you.

As the silence envelops you, Wrecker takes a deep breath, his movements deliberate as he inches closer. "Sorry, I-I just need to try something," he mutters, cupping your cheek gently before leaning in to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

Surprised but eager, you reciprocate almost immediately, the helmet in your hand forgotten as it drops with a thud. Giggles escape your lips as Wrecker pulls you into his lap, his kisses igniting a fire within you.

"What was that for?" you ask breathlessly as you finally part, your heart racing with exhilaration.

"I wanted to say thank you for cleaning my stuff," he replies with a playful grin, his eyes sparkling with warmth and affection. Sometimes, the simplest gestures can lead to the most unforgettable moments.

Tech 💋

On the cheek:

For days, you've wrestled with the decision to approach Tech about your broken data pad. But his constant busyness always seemed to deter you, and you didn’t want to burden him with your trivial problem.

But as you sit there, struggling with the malfunctioning device, you can't help but feel a pang of frustration. With a sigh, you finally gather the courage to seek out Tech's assistance, despite your reluctance.

Approaching him tentatively, you clear your throat to get his attention. "Um, Tech? Do you have a moment?" you ask, your voice hesitant.

Tech looks up from his screen, his gaze attentive as he assesses your expression. "Rarely. But what can I help you with?"

With a sheepish smile, you explain the issue with your datapad, feeling embarrassed by your own incompetence. But to your luck, Tech doesn't scold or dismiss you. Instead, he nods understandingly, taking the device from your hands with a gentle reassurance.

"I'll take care of it," he assures you, his fingers deftly working their magic as he sets to work on the repairs.

As you watch him, a wave of gratitude washes over you, mingled with a hint of admiration for his skill, something you always admired. And when he finally presents the fully repaired datapad back to you, a sense of relief floods your senses.

"Thank you, Tech," you murmur softly, truly appreciative.

His eyes meet yours, a warm smile gracing his features. "You're welcome," he replies simply, his attention already drifting back to his work.

But before you can stop yourself, a spontaneous impulse overtakes you. Leaning forward, you press a shy kiss to his cheek, the gesture a silent expression of gratitude and affection.

Tech blinks in surprise, his mouth agape but no words come out as he meets your gaze, his expression a mix of astonishment and warmth. "Uh, thank you," he stammers, bashful. Cute. He’s always been cute.

Embarrassed by your boldness, you quickly retreat, a shy smile gracing your lips as you leave.

On the lips:

The next day a cloud of uncertainty hangs over you. Despite the warmth of the moment of kissing Tech briefly on the cheek, a nagging doubt gnaws at you, fueled by Tech's seemingly distant behaviour.

You can't shake the feeling that you may have overstepped, that your spontaneous gesture may have made him uncomfortable.

Meanwhile, Tech grapples with his own turmoil, his thoughts consumed by the memory of your kiss. Despite the warmth it sparked in him, a newfound shyness overtakes him, leaving him unsure of how to proceed. He was never good at explaining his feelings anyway and so to express his own feelings, specifically about wanting to kiss you and reciprocate the affection you showed him.

Days then pass of awkward glances and silent hello’s until Tech finally has enough of waiting.

One evening, as the ship settles into a quiet lull, you find yourself alone with Tech in the dim glow of the cockpit.

Heart pounding, you brace yourself for the inevitable confrontation, prepared to face the consequences of your actions. But to your surprise, Tech's gaze meets yours, his eyes filled with a familiar warmth that always made you smile.

"Hello," he begins, his voice soft yet determined. "I have been meaning to talk to you."

You swallow nervously, bracing yourself for his response. “Good, because I feel like I’ve-.” But before you can utter another word, Tech steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek.

"I want you to know," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, "that the kiss you gave me... it meant a lot to me."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, relief flooding through you as you realise that perhaps your fears were unnecessary all along.

"Clearly, I have been trying to find the right time to tell you," Tech continues, his gaze unwavering as he closes the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, long-awaited kiss, “that I have wanted to kiss you for a long time.”

Your arms wrap around him, sighing into his kiss with a soft smile that makes your heart soar. His lips were timid yet they were radiating a warmth that made you want more. “All you had to do was ask.” You grin against his lips, melting as he holds you tight.

Crosshair 💋

On the cheek:

Amidst the chaos of a perilous mission, Crosshair's swift actions save you from harm. As the dust settles and the adrenaline fades, a palpable tension hangs in the air, his mood dark and brooding as he glares into the distance.

"Thanks," you murmur softly, your voice filled with genuine gratitude as you meet his gaze when you stand up, brushing the dust from your hands.

But before he can respond, an impulse overtakes you, and without thinking, you lean forward and press a swift kiss to his chiselled cheek.

Crosshair's expression remains impassive, his eyes betraying a hint of surprise before returning to their usual steely resolve. He offers no response, his silence a barrier that leaves you feeling embarrassed at your stupid action.

What a stupid idea.

On the lips:

As you begin to walk away, a surge of longing grips him, an undeniable pull drawing him back to you. With determined strides, he spins you around, his hand gripping your arm as he gazes into your eyes with a mixture of frustration and desire.

"What was that for?" he growls, his voice laced with a raw intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

Unable to suppress the rush of emotion coursing through you, you meet his gaze. Soft and almost vulnerable. "F-for saving my life," you reply, your voice steady despite the tremble in your heart.

Crosshair's features soften, a flicker of vulnerability shining through the mask of stoicism. He hardly thinks himself but he leans in, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss that has you gasping for breath.

“Crosshair,” you whimper as you melt into his embrace, realising that beneath his moody exterior lay a heart of gold; a heart that beats in rhythm with your own.

“I’m here,” he whispers, his rifle falling from his grasp as his hands grip onto your hips as he holds you close, just taking in the moment that neither of you wanted to end.

Good luck for the finale everyone🩵

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia a @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @photogirl894 @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @thiswitchloves9904 @green-alm0nd

#the bad batch #bad batch eve #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #nahoney22 writes #tbb #tech x reader #echo x reader #Hunter x reader #wrecker x reader #crosshair x reader

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hanasnx · 7 days

Text

"IF YOU WANT MORE LOVE, WHY DON'T YOU SAY SO?" — anakin skywalker.

6'7!ANAKIN SKYWALKER makes the very ground shake. Vibrations reverberate throughout the floor when he storms through, warning you of his impending presence. His sheer mass cannot be explained, only experienced firsthand. As if reactivating any residual prey instincts sewn deep into your DNA from ancient times, you shy in his atmosphere as he takes up the room with not only his muscled body but his overarching personality. It's strong, potent. Arguments with him are impossible when he can intimidate you with a glance. His permanent scowl etched into his eyebrows make sure of that.

"What?" he asks, and anyone but you would mistake it for irritability, when instead he is concerned. His feathery voice soothes your ears, and you gulp as he searches your body language for signs of fatigue or discomfort.

Caught, heat rises to your cheeks and you avert your gaze. "Nothing." you respond promptly, a twinge of fear that his impatience will earn you some form of lashing. Not that you'd mind. You're hot and bothered standing next to him, and he looks down at you like you're a child to be taken care of or taught.

"You're staring again." he audibly observes, and traces of exasperation are heard within his tone. You chew your lip, punctually swallowing your rebuttal that he has the worst staring problem of anyone you've ever met, constantly observing you as if you're an animal to be studied through experiments he himself design. In a way, you are. Tested through various sorts of stimulation that he calculates, you might as well be his personal pet project. Being stared at by Anakin is an expectation of yours, and a right that he believes to own. Once it's clear you're lost in thought—or won't respond—he leads you away with a large hand grazing the small of your back. The tingles of his contact shoot straight up to glitter in your brain as pleasurable frission, so desperate for his attention that the slightest bit of it sends you into an embarrassing tizzy. "What's gotten into you?" he speaks under his breath, and you're sure a scold is on its way. You fight the disappointment that creeps up when his hand drops from your back, but returns just as swiftly when he tucks you into the atmosphere of his side, corralling you into the privacy of a dark corner.

You can't bring yourself to say anything, hopelessly peering up at him with big eyes to which he gets lost in. Batting your lashes, a tug appears at the corner of his lips as he watches your hands clasp behind your back in an innocent manner, twirling side to side as your chest sticks out from your positioning. As if he can understand your secret language, he sighs, and glances over his shoulder to check for eavesdroppers. One signal in a tilt of his head, and you giddily follow his directions as the flat ends of his fingers give your ass an encouraging pat when you pass him.

You hadn't anticipated that when he was herding you towards seclusion with his massive body behind yours—gently urging you forward with his body heat and curling his frame around you to check the cute expression on your face—that you'd end up tangled up in him again. He hadn't anticipated it either, fully intended to get you off with two thick fingers coaxing a release out of you so you'll stop ogling him like a lost puppy. Instead, you were too good to resist. Poor pussy pulsing around his knuckles, begging for something better had him undoing his pants to bury himself within you.

Grateful, you clutch onto his clothes, bunching it all up in your little hands as you gasp for air over his hulking shoulder. Folded up over yourself like a malleable doll he's molded to his whims, you feel infinitely smaller than before underneath him. Even his head next to yours dwarfs yours, his face longer, wider, more chiseled than your round and soft cheeks. You feel his gentle lips kissing onto one as he begs you to loosen up with shallow ruts into your cunt.

"Why didn't you just say so?" he questions husky and hot in your ear. You shiver, your hole spasming around him, still recovering from the overstimulation of orgasms he pulled before this. "Do I have to read your mind?"

Tears prick the corners of your eyes from how hard you squeeze them shut, willing yourself to nod as he carves out a space for his long cock inside you, able to bottom out. A long groan resounds from low in his throat as he soaks the fit it in.

A moment is spent in content silence as you bite hard into your lower lip. A clumsy thumb wedges in between you two, stroking at your prickling clit. A thankful wetness wells up within you. "Next time I'll make you use those pretty words, my love. For now, let me take care of you."

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lis-likes-fics · 4 months

Text

The Sound of His Voice

Pairings: Spencer Reid x agent!Reader Word Count: 3k words Warnings: Descriptions of crime scenes/vague gore, mentions of death and murder, standard Criminal Minds stuff, fluff otherwise... A/N: I started watching CM a while ago and now I can't stop so enjoy this. There will be more, I dunno when. (Should I be working on my months-in-progress-wips? Yes, I absolutely should. Am I? Mostly. I'm trying my best)

Morgan rubs his temple, digging his fingers into the side of his forehead as he shakes his head. Tapping his pen on the desk, he tosses down his file. “But here's what I don't get,” he says, drawing the attention of the rest of the team. “If the unsub thinks of his victims as prey, even going as far as to torture the victim, why go through all the trouble of tucking them into bed?”

Hotch looks back at the picture in his own hands, where he had been analyzing the scene for the hundredth time in search of something he missed the first hundred. He shrugs, “Tucking them in can usually indicate signs of remorse.”

JJ motions to the pictures. “Yeah, but look at this guy. Does this look remorseful to you?”

You lift a shoulder, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms. “Could be a second unsub.”

You are a relatively new addition to the team. It was your fifth case with them, but they already treated you like part of the team, like family. It was easy to sink into the ebb and flow of everything, especially when they trust your skills and instincts and let you know when you're doing something wrong so you know not to do it again.

But this case was difficult. Your unsub had a strange profile: an organized, white male, with surgical experience and the MO reminiscent of a cat. He kills men and women alike, and the only connection between his victims have been their smaller statures.

The age range itself was too wide, though there was a slight reoccurrence of ages between 25 and 35. But it was still too wide, either way, not enough to work with.

He ties up and tortures them before finally ending their lives with strangulation. He uses his bare hands to get the job done, which makes him a sexual sadist. As if that wasn't enough, he carves out the victim’s heart after death and takes it as a trophy.

He shows plenty of psychopathic characteristics, but he also fits the profile of a sociopath, so it's hard to make anything stick. His MO suggests a lack of empathy and guilt, but the bed-tucking… You always lose him with the bed-tucking…

Morgan shakes his head a little, humming. “But we already ruled out multiple unsubs,” he says. You nod gently. “Besides, if this guy is mimicking the hunting habits of a cat, he would hunt alone, wouldn't he?”

Reid’s head perks up. He points a pen in Morgan's direction as he shakes his head. “Actually, no.” He licks his lips, and he's grabbed your attention like a siren to a sailor. “It's a very common misconception that cats are loners, but it's untrue. Cats prefer the companionship of others just as much as a human being would.”

You lean toward him a bit across the table, watching him as he speaks, his hands moving to illustrate his words as he does. “People often think, because of their aloof nature, that they like to be left alone or actually despise the presence of other people, including their owners or other cats—which is why people believe them to be low maintenance creatures. But they are just as social as, say, a dog. Actually, it's interesting, big cats like lions, or sometimes even cheetahs, hunt in packs to take down larger prey. Domestic cats–”

“Reid,” Morgan interrupts, making a cutting motion with his hand to his neck.

Your eyes turn back to Spencer, who seems to retreat in on himself a bit as he gives an apologetic smile and a small nod. “Sorry,” he says, pulling his lips in a wide smile.

You set a hand on the table, shaking your head. “No, keep going. That was interesting.”

Spencer looks at you with these eyes that seem to shine. Your heart feels fonder, warmer, at the sight of him.

“We really don't have time to go through all of this,” Hotch says, his tone final.

“I mean,” you continue. Since joining the team, you've grown a certain affinity toward Spencer and his genius mind. Every time he's gone on his tangents, you've become enchanted by the words coming out of his mouth like he's put some sort of spell over you. You lift a shoulder, gesturing toward him. “If this guy is basing his MO off the hunting patterns of cats, we should…know everything we need to know about them, right?”

Hotch looks at you, his face hard and unreadable. You're unsure if he's considering your proposal or just trying to intimidate you. But then he sighs, his crossed arms loosening a little as he turns to Spencer.

“Reid?”

Spencer looks between you and Hotch, relenting hesitantly as he starts off slow. “Well…I was going to say domestic cats are solitary hunters but sociable creatures.” He picks up his normal speed once more, “They can be very affectionate, especially toward their owners and other cats within their households. They're also one of the only types of cats who play with their prey before killing them, which could be a reason this unsub tortures his victims so extensively in his murders.”

“Wait…” Prentiss says, catching all of your attentions. “You said ‘affectionate toward their owners’.”

“Yeah,” Spencer nods.

She waves her hands gently, “How do cats show affection for their owners?”

Spencer shrugs, “Um, bunting, purring, some scratch, sometimes they leave offerings, like dead rodents, around the house–”

“Right there!” Prentiss exclaims. “They leave offerings.”

You sit up, “The hearts.”

Hotch’s dark brows furrow. “You're saying this unsub is taking the hearts as an offering to someone else?”

Spencer thinks over that, nodding. “It's possible.”

JJ sighs. “But that still doesn't explain why we wouldn't have identified a second unsub earlier.”

Spencer holds out a hand, pointing with his pen. “Actually, it could. You see, cats also have the tendency to mimic the people they hold affection for. We might not have noticed a second MO because the submissive unsub may be mimicking the dominant one.”

“Or learning from him,” Morgan says.

“Learning?” Hotch asks.

Morgan glances around, “Well, if we're sticking so close to this cat thing, older cats often nurture the young and teach them to hunt.” He shrugs, “We could be looking at…brothers? Older and younger?”

“Or lovers,” JJ suggests. She points to a picture, the image of a chest carefully carved open to reveal a missing heart. “If the hearts are offerings, it could be a Valentine.”

“And the bed-tucking?” you ask.

Hotch picks up the picture of one of the victims, “safely” and securely tucked into bed…put to sleep. “Well, if the hearts are offerings for a lover, this unsub is sentimental. He could feel some type of sympathy or guilt for the victim and want to ‘put them to sleep’ after the torture.” He studies the image, a flash of unease behind his eyes that you know all too well. He sets it down.

“Okay, so how do we find them?” Prentiss asks, clicking her pen before setting it down to begin a definitive course of action.

Spencer points to yet another picture. “Look at these injuries. These incisions are surgical,” he clarifies. “So the dominant is a doctor or a—a veterinarian, which can be implied through his intimate knowledge of cats’ behaviors.”

“And the submissive might work under him as a nurse or an assistant,” you continue, adding on to his clever insight. He glances over at you, smiling almost giddily at your understanding.

Hotch turns to Morgan. “Do you think that's enough to work with?”

Morgan thinks for a moment, his shrug melding into a nod as he turns back to Hotch. “To fit in with the rest of the profile,” he hums, “I'd say so.”

“Okay.” Hotch nods firmly. “We'll present the profile ASAP. Morgan, get Garcia to search for any vets in the area with any records of assault charges.” He says this all while taking long strides toward the door, his red tie bouncing slightly with his movements.

Prentiss follows him with her gaze as he exits. “You think the unsub is aggressive?”

He turns briefly. “Look at the bruising on the neck. The torture alone is an indicator of anger and frustration, but the way the victim was strangled suggests force. Much more than necessary just to crush a windpipe. He's an organized killer with a lot of rage. If he moves more along the lines of a sociopath, our best guess is he's had some kind of trouble with the law at some point in his life,” he concludes. Glancing aside, he speaks again, a little more firmly. “Morgan.”

“On it,” he says, his phone already ready to contact Garcia on speed dial.

“And Reid,” Hotch says, focusing his hard stare on the younger agent.

He stiffens, straightening his back and awaiting his response. “Yes?”

There's a pause as Hotch examines him silently. With a single nod, he says, “Good work.”

He glances at you. A nod.

You nod back.

Hotch leaves in a hurry, and your gaze immediately and instinctively flicks to Spencer. He smiles at you, turning away as though he was shyly hiding that same smile.

There were two unsubs: a surgical veterinarian and his nurse. You caught them just in time, just as that knife was gleaming in the golden light of the lamps swinging above the three bodies down in the basement of the submissive unsub’s house.

And now you soared 40,000 feet above the ground with another killer put away for good.

Everyone's in their own spirit, placing you across the aisle from JJ and Spencer in their own booths, a crochet set in your lap as you continue one of your projects. Emily's eyes linger on JJ, watching the crease of her brow as she studies case files.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks, setting her book to the side to shift her attention. Derek darts his eyes up from his own book, lifting his brow as he does it.

JJ looks up, breathing in and lifting her shoulder in a half shrug. “I don't know about you,” she says, “but I know that if I got an actual human heart on Valentine's Day, me and my alleged partner would have some serious issues.”

Snorts and chuckles lift from multiple places among the seats, heads shaking and attentions shifting back to their own activities.

But as soon as you hear the first lilt of Spencer's voice, like clockwork, you're a fish on a hook.

“Actually,” he begins, “if we were set back thousands of years, that would not be a very unusual occurrence.” He licks his lips quickly, “You see, Valentine's Day’s origins actually go back to a festival called Lupercal, or Lupercalia. The festival was in itself a very violent and sexually charged affair that lasted roughly three days—from the 13th to the 15th—set in Rome. Its traditions were carried out in two separate locations, firstly–”

“Alright,” JJ rises to her feet, her eyes wide in annoyance as she closes her case file in a large announcement to Spencer. “I'm getting coffee. Do you want anything?”

Spencer purses his lips, that same wide, apologetic grin covering his face as he leans back in his seat and shakes his head. “Uh, no. All good here.”

She nods, turning to walk away, “Great.”

You watch JJ leave, your eyes fall back upon Spencer, who's pulling his book back into his palms to turn his focus back on the pages. His eyes flit over the words at lightning speed, absorbing the information and moving to the next.

Taking your crochet set in your hands, you stand and plop down in JJ’s old spot. Spencer's eyes darts up to you, glancing between you and his book as you set your stuff down and readjust your yarn.

Beginning again, you nod toward him. “You were saying?”

Spencer, his eyes wide and confused and his lips parted in wonder and his cheeks a little pink, stares at you. After remembering he had to respond, he sputters in an attempt to.

“Uh, it's-it's really not that…interesting,” he mumbles, trailing off at the end as he sets his book down, his fingertips pressing against the edge of the desk between the both of you.

“Well,” you look up at him, setting your elbow on the table and tucking your first underneath your chin, “I was very interested.”

His Adam's apple bobs when he swallows. His lips form the word before it comes out of his mouth. “You were?”

You nod, “Mhm.”

Looking at him for a moment—just looking at him for a moment—you take in the pretty sight of his bewildered expression, fascination and confusion and excitement crossing his face in a flurry of emotion.

You move your elbow from the table and pick up your hook, nodding toward him before training your eyes on your work again as you await his words. “Firstly?” you prompt.

Scrambling to organize his thoughts, Spencer nods. As the words form in his brain, he smiles as he thrusts himself into another rant, speaking a little softer so as not to aggravate the rest of the team.

“Well, firstly, the uh— The-the first location was in a cave called Lupercus—named after the Roman fertility god that the celebration was dedicated to—and the second is a public meeting place called the Comitium.”

You tilt your head toward him, smiling a little. “Like the word ‘committee’.”

“Exactly like the word ‘committee’,” he beams.

Your attention, as hard as you tried to split it, becomes entirely caught up in Spencer as you forget about your project and focus your gaze entirely on him. You set your arms on the table separating you and watch as he speaks, your smile definitely too love-sick to be a hint anymore. He seems to lean in closer.

“So how did Lupercalia become Valentine's Day?” you wonder aloud.

“Well,” he starts, prompting a larger grin from you, “in the late 5th century A.D., Pope Gelasius I eliminated it and declared February 14th a day to celebrate the martyrdom of Saint Valentine instead—although it's highly unlikely he intended the day to commemorate love and passion as it is celebrated now. In fact, some modern biblical scholars warn Christians not to celebrate Valentine's Day at all, due to its Pagan roots and rituals.”

You hum, your eyes taking glances at the stretch of his skin over his fingers and the way they move when he speaks.

“Do you celebrate Valentine's Day?” you ask gently, speaking slowly.

His hands fall back down to his lap, and he shakes his head as he straightens his posture a bit. “Well…I don't usually have anyone to celebrate it with, so… No, not really.”

Feeling the shyness slipping into your veins, you set your hands on the table and let your fingers slowly inch toward him, staring at them inside of his eyes. You don't want to see the rejection if it lives there, in his eyes.

You speak slowly, emphasizing every syllable. “Would you like to have someone to celebrate it with?”

He swallows thickly, letting one hand lift onto the table, still close to him but building up courage to maybe meet you in the middle. “Like…” he clears his throat quietly. “Like you?”

You offer a right smile, finally flicking your eyes up to meet his and feeling giddy at the light blush on his cheeks, the nervous wideness of his gaze. “I promise no actual hearts.”

You watch him, and again…his eyes, his Adam's apple, his cheeks, his lips. “Uh…yeah,” he stutters. “Yeah, sure. I'll be your…your Valentine.”

You smile, a wide smile that splits your face in two. Spencer's own grin follows suit. Looking past you, he catches the eyes of Derek, who smirks and offers a cheesy thumbs up, proud of him for securing you as he did.

His gaze falls back to you when you begin to speak, your voice just as song-ish to him as his is to you. You're both equally as infatuated as the other. “You know,” you trail off slowly, “supposedly, Saint Valentine might be so commonly associated with our day of love because there are rumors that he used to perform secret weddings against the wishes of the authorities in the third century.”

He nods slowly, his brows furrowed slightly. “Yes, that's right…” Licking his bottom lip, he speaks again. “You already knew all that stuff about Lupercalia, didn't you?”

You smile, your face squished a bit as you raise your hands and close your thumb and forefinger close together. “Maybe a little,” you whisper. But then you shrug and just keep looking at him. “But I like listening to you talk.”

Spencer suddenly doesn't think you're real, but he isn't about to question it if you aren't. There's someone who enjoys his tangents. He isn't going to jeopardize that.

“Oh,” is all he says.

With your crocheting long forgotten, you lean forward on the table and give him every ounce of attention in your mind. With a fond smile on your lips and a twinkle in your eye, you rest your chin on your folded hands. “You should tell me about…” you pause, thinking, before you smile curls even more, “bees.”

His brows lift as he nods. “Okay, well,” he starts, “did you know the first civilization to practice widespread, organized beekeeping was the Ancient Egyptians, who began beekeeping around 2,500 BCE?”

Your brows lift in fascination. You shake your head, “No, I didn't.”

His smile grows. “Well…”

For the remainder of the flight, Spencer talks and talks and talks, his voice quiet and meant solely for you as he talks about whatever you want: bees and wine and marbles and Halloween. He keeps smiling at you, as you keep smiling at him. Somewhere along the way, he officially asks you on a date, and you both get off the jet together to get a cup of coffee.

You love the way he talks.

Criminal Minds taglist: ... Tag yourself here...

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #female reader

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suguae · 13 days

Text

ain't no saint...but we pretend to be .ᐟ

જsynopsis. you aren't as innocent as suguru assumed.

જpairings. g. suguru x fem! reader

જcontents. mdni! masturbation, oral, male receiving oral.

Suguru's chuckle was a low rumble, accompanied by the flick of the joint's butt cast into the shadows. His eyes, a flicker of mischief, remained fixed on his white-haired companion, Satoru. "She's a cute one, no doubt. But innocent? Oh, unquestionably," he mused, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk. "The canvas of her experiences remains pristine and untouched for sure."

Satoru raised an eyebrow at Suguru's comment, a smirk playing on his lips. "You never know, Suguru. Sometimes the innocent ones surprise you." He took a drag from his own joint, exhaling the smoke slowly. "Besides, experience isn't everything."

His gaze remained fixed on Satoru, his white hair gleaming under the muted glow. "Yeah, then why don't you give her a go," he mumbled, his words punctuated by the faint scent of smoke lingering in the air, a testament to the joint he had just finished. There was a playful challenge in his tone, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes as he awaited Satoru's response.

Satoru chuckled, a knowing glint in his eyes as he took another drag from his joint. "Oh, Suguru, my dear friend," he said, the smoke swirling around him like a shroud of secrets. "Some canvases are best left unmarked. Besides," he added with a sly grin, "I prefer to be with those who can keep up."

As Satoru and Suguru headed back into the lively party, laughter and music greeted them at the door. The atmosphere was electric, the air filled with excitement and energy. They exchanged nods and casual greetings with familiar faces as they made their way deeper into the crowd.

Unbeknownst to them, the party happened to be hosted by your older brother.

Suguru's footsteps echoed softly as he navigated the lively party, his eyes scanning the crowd in search of you, despite his earlier declaration to Satoru that he wouldn't dare mess with someone like you. Yet, as the music pulsed and laughter filled the air, you remained elusive, your absence noticeable to him.

Unable to shake the curiosity gnawing at him, Suguru excused himself from Satoru's side and began to wander through the familiar halls of your brother's home, his steps guided by an instinct. Eventually, he found himself standing before the closed door of your bedroom, hesitating for a moment before rapping his knuckles against the wood.

"Hey, it's Suguru," he called out, his voice low but audible over the din of the party. "Mind if I come in?"

There was a moment of silence before the door creaked open just a crack, revealing your curious gaze on the other side. Suguru offered you a sheepish smile, his expression softened by a hint of vulnerability. "Sorry to bother you," his voice sincere.

Suguru's breath caught in his throat as the door swung open further, revealing you standing before him in an outfit that sent his mind reeling. The sight of you in one of the shortest skirts you owned, paired with a revealing top, ignited a flurry of thoughts and desires within him that he struggled to contain.

For a moment, he was speechless, his eyes tracing the contours of your figure with a hunger he couldn't disguise. The soft glow of the room accentuated every curve and exposed inch of skin, leaving him feeling utterly captivated by your presence.

"Suguru?" Your voice broke through his reverie, pulling him back to reality. There was a hint of amusement in your tone, as if you could sense the effect you were having on him.

He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "Uh, sorry," he managed, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I, uh, just wanted to make sure you were okay. You know, with all the chaos downstairs."

Your lips quirked into a knowing smile, and for a moment, Suguru felt a surge of embarrassment wash over him. But beneath it all, there was an undeniable spark of attraction that lingered between you, begging to be explored.

As Suguru stood there, still slightly flustered from the unexpected encounter, you took matters into your own hands. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you gently pulled him into your bedroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click.

"The party's fine, really," you assured him, your voice low and inviting. "But I just prefer it in here, away from all the chaos."

Before Suguru could respond, you found yourself unable to resist the temptation any longer. With a playful grin, you pushed him back against the plushie-filled pink bed, the soft fabric enveloping him as he landed with a surprised laugh.

His eyes widened in surprise, a mixture of amusement and excitement dancing in their depths. You hovered over him, your proximity sparking a palpable tension between you as you met his gaze with a daring smirk.

In that moment, the world outside your bedroom faded away, leaving only the two of you and the electric energy that crackled between your bodies. With a soft chuckle, Suguru reached up to pull you closer, his lips curving into a knowing smile as he surrendered to the irresistible pull of the moment.

"You reek of weed by the way," you remarked casually, your voice tinged with amusement as you sauntered across the room. The soft glow of the fairy lights accentuated the curve of your silhouette, casting a spell over Suguru as he watched you move with effortless grace.

With a playful grin, you reached for your collection of fragrances, the bottles arranged neatly on a vanity table. The delicate clink of glass echoed in the air as you selected a strawberry-scented perfume, the fruity aroma dancing on the breeze as you sprayed it into the air.

Suguru couldn't tear his gaze away as you turned back to face him, the scent enveloping you in a tantalizing cloud. But it wasn't just the fragrance that captivated him; it was the way you moved, every sway of your hips a silent invitation.

"Better?" you asked, a hint of mischief in your voice as you met his gaze.

He nodded, his eyes drinking in every detail of you, from the subtle curve of your lips to the playful glint in your eyes. "Much better," he replied, his voice husky with desire.

As Suguru's desire surged, he closed the distance between you with an almost reckless abandon. His hands found purchase on your hips, pulling you closer until there was barely an inch of space between your bodies. The air crackled with electricity as his lips crashed against yours in a fervent kiss, hungry and urgent.

You responded eagerly, your fingers tangling in his hair as you melted into the kiss, your heart pounding in your chest. His touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume everything in its path.

The world around you faded into oblivion as you lost yourself in the intoxicating heat of the moment. Time seemed to stand still as you and Suguru became lost in a whirlwind of passion, the boundaries between you blurring until there was only the two of you and the raw intensity of your connection.

With a sly smirk, your hand snaked down Suguru's chest, fingers dancing over firm muscles and trailing hot whispers along his skin.

Your voice dropped lower, filled with a mixture of lust and amusement, “I've always wanted you, Suguru," your words sending a shiver down his spine as you pulled him closer. Your eyes locked with his gaze, unwavering as you added, "And now I finally have you all to myself."

Suguru found himself growing rock hard in response to your words and dominant demeanor, Suguru couldn't help but be surprised and turned on. He had never seen you like this, and as you pressed your body against his, he released a low moan, "I...”

You felt your lips curl into a giggle as you watched Suguru struggle to find his words while under the influence of your sudden display of dominance. You pressed your advantage, your fingers tracing teasing patterns along the front of his pants.

As you pulled down Suguru's pants, his long and veiny cock sprang free, catching you by complete surprise. The sight of him sent a jolt of pure desire straight to your core. "Wow," you breathed, taking in the size and girth of him.

Despite the sheer size of him, you didn't hesitate to wrap your plump, peachy lips around Suguru's tip. You teased the head of his cock with your tongue, savoring the taste of his pre-cum.

You could hear the loud music from the party outside mixing with Suguru's throaty grunts and moans as you eagerly sucked him off. Your plump lips glided up and down his length, the veins on his shaft standing out from your tight grip.

"Fuck Y/N," Suguru whimpered, his voice thick with pleasure as he grabbed a chunk of your hair, gently guiding your head further down his shaft, making sure to give you every inch of his long and veiny cock.

As you sucked Suguru off, you couldn't help but slide a finger or two down to your wet and throbbing clit. Vigorously rubbing the pearl, letting out soft whimpers as the pleasure built up inside of you.

Suguru felt himself getting closer to the edge, the vibrations from your soft whimpers only adding to the pleasure. "Keep it going, princess," he groaned, losing his words as you took him deeper in her mouth. "Ah!"

In a matter of seconds, your cute face was covered in Suguru's white, hot cum. He tried to distinguish what just happened as the cute and innocent girl he knew turned out to be such a dirty little slut.

A string of cum dangled from your lip, but you didn’t care. With a flick of your tongue, it was gone. You smiled at Suguru, not ashamed of what you had just done at all. The smeared cum on your lips was proof of your enjoyment.

Suguru felt his heart race. He had never experienced such an intense and passionate moment like this. And it wasn't just physical pleasure, but an emotional release as well. Seeing you like this, so wild and unashamed... it was incredible.

Yeah, it was the first time seeing you like this—but Suguru had a gut feeling that this definitely wasn’t gonna be the last.

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holylulusworld · 2 months

Text

Second-Hand

Summary: He only wants you.

Pairing: Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega (fem) Reader

Warnings: mentions of rejection, scenting, a/b/o, mentions of feral alpha, fluff

Written for @caplanbuckybarnes Weekly Writing Challenge #4.

I chose the prompt: "The scar on my neck? My Mate broke our bond and left me."

The alarm is so loud you can barely think. Red lights indicate that something terrible must’ve happened at the Avengers Tower.

“Y/N,” Bruce storms inside the laboratory, searching for you. “I need to get you out of here. It’s the Captain. He’s out of control.”

“Captain America is out of control?” You worriedly look at Bruce. “What happened? What do we do now?”

Bruce grabs your hand to guide you out of the laboratory. “We’ve got not much time left. His alpha took over and you are the only unmated omega in this building. The others try to keep him under control until I got you somewhere safe.”

“What did he do?”

“He trashed his room and almost attacked Tony,” Bruce grabs your hand again to guide you toward the nearby elevator. “He’s growling like a beast. I fear he’s gone feral.”

“Feral,” you whisper. “If he goes feral, he’s lost forever. We need to help him. I need to help him. The world needs him. The Avengers need him.”

“Y/N, we can think of something after I brought you somewhere safe. We can’t waste more time.” Your boss tries to guide you toward the elevator, but you shake his hand off. “Y/N?”

“I can help him,” you say, and step away from Bruce. “I know you mean well, but people, especially alphas calm in my presence. I think it has something to do with my scent.”

“This is insane,” Bruce calls after you. It’s too late. You dash along the hallways, following Steve’s scent. It’s distinctive. No other scent ever lured you in or made your toes curl.

“Where are you going?” Your boss is chasing after you now, desperate to stop you from making a grave mistake. “He’s going to hurt you! Y/N, please stop. Don’t do this.”

You’re unstoppable. Bruce may be the Hulk, but your instinct makes you run faster, and faster. You don’t know what you’re going to do when you find Steve, but you must help him.

“Y/N?” Tony asks when you push him out of your way. You stop right in front of the room they locked Steve in. You purr low in your throat and sniff at the door. “You need to get out of here. He’ll tear the door down if he scents you!”

It’s too late. Steve slams his body against the door, making it creak.

“OMEGA!” He growls your presentation. “Mine!”

“What happened? What caused him to lose control so easily?” You press your ear against the door to listen to his heavy breathing. “Mr. Stark. What happened?”

“He came back from a mission, pumped up with adrenaline. We couldn’t save them all,” Tony whispers to not rile Steve up even more. “We tried to calm down, but Steve was out of it. He blamed himself for losing two of the hostages - and then he scented you.”

“Me?” You don’t understand why your scent drove Steve up the wall. He never acted differently around you.

Most of the time he gave you a short hello, and a genuine smile. You never talked for long. Only the usual interaction with someone working at the same place. He’s not one of your colleagues, and you are not one of the Avengers. It’s that simple.

“I’ll go inside and try to help him,” you move your hand to the door handle. “Whatever you hear, don’t come inside.”

“Y/N, you don’t know what a feral alpha is going to do to you,” Bruce finally caught up with you. He places his hand on your shoulder, but you shake it off.

“I know exactly what alphas are capable of,” you turn around to look at Bruce and Tony. “The scar on my neck?” You remove your scarf to show them the scar they didn’t dare to ask you about. “My mate broke our bond and left me. That’s all I got left of him.”

“A feral alpha is something else than a douche letting you down,” Tony tries to stop you, but you already unlock the door. “Y/N!”

“I told you to not interfere.” You slip inside the room and slam the door shut behind you. “Lock the door and don’t come in.”

Steve sits on the floor of the padded cell, cradling something that looks like the cardigan you’re missing. He sniffs at the fabric and purrs low in his throat. “Hi, Captain.”

He’s lost in his instinct, not even hearing your soft voice calling his name.

You kneel on the padded ground and slowly move toward Steve.

“Steve, I need you to calm down and look at me.”

“Omega,” Steve dips his head. His eyes glow when your scent hits his sensitive nose. “Omega!”

He drops your cardigan to the ground and pounces on you. You try not to scream when he grasps you. He buries you under his body, holding your trembling form in a tight grip.

Unlike everyone expected, he’s surprisingly careful and gentle. Steve nuzzles you and sniffs at your neck. “Mine.”

“I once had an alpha calling me his mate. He was possessive and passionate until he found someone better. His true mate.”

“Mine,” Steve kisses the scar on your neck, focused on taking the pain of your broken bond away. “Omega.”

“If you want me, I must tell you that I was claimed before. He left me,” you close your eyes, and enjoy feeling Steve’s warmth surround you. “I’m secondhand.”

He nuzzles your scar. “I don’t care. You’re mine. I’m your alpha.”

“You’re my alpha.”

Tags in reblog.

#caplansweeklywritingchallenge #steve rogers #steve rogers x you #alpha!steve rogers x omega!reader #a/b/o #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n

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randxmthxughts · 1 year

Text

Human Stuff - Neteyam x Human! Reader (afab)

summary: the one where a confused na’vi teenager tries to comfort his human friend while she’s on her period

warnings: menstruation talk, feeding food

wc: 2.3k

a/n: can you tell that i’m on my period and this is all i want rn

also, neteyam not knowing about periods can be canon? i just read that na’vi are non-placental, so they most likely don’t menstruate like primates. eywa be looking out for her girlies lol. but what do i know

masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Neteyam walks into the science facility confidently, knowing every nook and cranny like the back of his hand. Growing up, he has spent countless hours here with his siblings, and especially lately, he has been here every other day. His eyes search for you through the glass windows of the labs where he knows he is not allowed to step a foot in, ears perked up for a sign of you, even though it’s awfully quiet. The facility is mostly empty, and he assumes that the rest of the group is probably in their avatar bodies, busy with research. But it’s you that he’s looking for.

Ever since you arrived at Pandora, Neteyam liked you right away. Roughly translated, the two of you were close in age, and had similar humor. Your father was the team lead of entomologists, and since you weren’t an actual scientist like the rest of the group, you had a lot of spare time to spend with Neteyam, exploring the forests. Your weekly meet ups with him became so familiar, that when you don’t show up at your regular meeting spot, Neteyam has to come and fetch you himself.

So here he is, walking through the labs, wondering if you had forgotten about your plans and were out with the others. It takes him some courage to sneak his head into the sleeping area, where he knew humans slept. Neteyam also knew very well that he wasn’t allowed back there because he could accidentally knock over things with his massive frame but he just needs to check. And his gut feeling isn’t wrong. You are laying in your bed, your back turned to him, completely unaware of his presence. Neteyam takes notice of how little you look with your body curled into a ball.

At first, he assumes you’re asleep. A small smile stretches his lips, as he sneaks up on you planning to scare you awake for abandoning your plans. But as he readies himself for the loud growl, a small whimper escapes from your lips.

Neteyam stops in his tracks, his ears perking up immediately at the sound. He thought he had imagined it, but that theory gets quickly disproven when he hears another whimper. Moving quickly, he rounds your bed to confirm his suspicions. You jerk up at the sight of his big frame looming over you.

“Neteyam, what the hell?” your heart starts racing.

“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you, sorry,” he slowly crouches down in front of your bed, with a guilty expression on his face.

You throw an annoyed look at him before wrapping your arms around your middle again, and pressing your face into the pillow. You don’t want him to see your face. Neteyam doesn’t move, watching you.

“Go away,” you mumble, hoping that for once he will just comply.

“Did you forget about our plans?” he asks, ignoring your previous words, “Are you sleeping?”

“I am not sleeping,” you mutter angrily into the pillow.

Neteyam can’t quite put his finger on it but he knows that something strange is happening to you. Maybe it was the scent? Of course, he was used to your scent, he could sense you from a mile away because it always stood out to him. It wasn’t necessarily bad or good, it’s just the way he recognized you. But right now, for some reason, it was so intense, like somebody gathered it into a perfume bottle and sprayed it right into his nostrils.

He instinctively sniffs the air, and you cringe out of embarrassment, wishing you were dead right at this moment. Stupid periods, stupid cramps, stupid human bodies. If only you were back home right now, indulging in comfort food and taking your usual painkillers that could soothe the pain. Whatever you had found in the lab's aid kit was clearly not strong enough, and you suspect that the pressure on Pandora is making it even worse.

Tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes as another painful cramp surges through your already sore muscles.

"Y/N, are you hurt?" Neteyam asks, attempting to turn you to your side so he can see your face. You grumble in annoyance, resisting his movements.

"Can you please just leave me alone?" you snap at him.

“But what about our plans?” Neteyam stares at you confused.

“I’m canceling them,” you huff, “I’m going through some human-stuff.”

It feels like your insides are being twisted and squeezed over and over again. You place a hand on your lower belly, hoping to suit the pain, but it only gets worse. Noticing the way your face grimaces, Neteyam stands up.

“You’re in pain,” he states, “I will go for Tsahik.”

“No!” you protest, “No Tsahik!”

“But you look unwell,” he hesitates, unsure of what to do.

“No Tsahik!” you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling another cramp, “It’s a human thing, the pain will pass soon.”

Something about Neteyam standing there and watching you, makes you feel embarrassed. You already felt weak in comparison to him, whenever you tried to keep up with his running through the forest or climbing trees. He loved teasing you about it, and you don’t need another reason for him to poke fun at you. Your hand clutches one of the pillows under your head, and you sit up to shoo him away.

“Go away, you’re not allowed to be here,” you threaten him, raising your pillow in the air.

Neteyam frowns, still not moving. Angry at his sudden stubbornness, you throw the pillow at him with as much force as you can.

“Go!” you shout at him again.

Neteyam easily dodges the pillow but finally backs away from your bed. He knows that when you get angry at him, it’s because you’re embarrassed about something. He just can’t grasp what this “human stuff” is and why is it making you so stressed. Neteyam thought he knew plenty about humans from his dad, but Jake had never mentioned anything like this.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Neteyam is so confused on his way out of the facility that he barely notices Norm and almost bumps into him. Fortunately, Norm was in his avatar body and wasn't trampled by the teenage Na'vi. He chuckles at the way Neteyam doesn’t even stop to acknowledge him and keeps walking.

“You okay, kid?” Norm calls out after Neteyam, finally catching his attention.

“Norm, you’re one of the sky people,” Neteyam turns around.

“I am,” Norm confirms with another chuckle, “Something bothering you?”

“Yeah… Can you tell me what is this ‘human stuff’ that you go through?”

Norm cocks his head, the question sounding so ridiculous, he assumes it’s a joke. But Neteyam looks serious.

“What ‘human stuff’?”

“I’m not sure but it looks like it is painful,” Neteyam shakes his head, “I just saw Y/N, and she was laying in her bed, and crying. It looked like something was hurting her, but she wouldn’t tell me what. Only said it was ‘human stuff’.”

“Maybe she’s just having a stomachache or something?” Norm shrugs.

“That’s what I thought. But when I wanted to get Tsahik for her, she got mad at me. Said that it will pass on its own.”

“I don’t know, man, I don’t understand women sometimes,” Norm replies, then a sudden realization hits him, “Ooooh…”

“What?” Neteyam’s ears perk up, “What is it?”

“I don’t want to jump to any conclusions, but she might just be on her period.”

“Period?” it was an unfamiliar word.

“Yeah, women get it every month,” Norm explains but it only seems to confuse Neteyam further, “Okay, so I’m probably not the best person for this but sit down.”

After what seems like an hour passes, Neteyam gives up on the human biology lesson with Norm. He sort of gets the idea of menstruation but he can’t imagine what it feels like, no matter how hard he tries. All he gets from this conversation is that Y/N needs to rest to feel better, and that the food she craves can help ease the pain? He is an alien; he has no idea what she wants.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Y/N?” Neteyam’s soft voice catches your attention.

The medicine you took earlier finally seems to work, and you feel slightly better. You prop yourself up on your elbows and see Neteyam walk into the room. A few colorful plastic bags in his hands catch your attention; these were usually hidden away in the very back of the kitchen cabinets for special occasions. Your mouth salivates at the sight of the chips and the cookies.

“Are you feeling better?” Neteyam asks, now crouching down next to your bed.

You nod, sitting up, feeling a little guilty for shooing him away earlier.

“I stole these from the secret stash,” he grimaces, laying out the bags on your blanket.

“My father is going to kill you for this,” you chuckle, reaching for the chips.

Neteyam smiles softly, as he watches you open the bag and fetch a few chips into your mouth. With a loud crunch, you munch on those with a giddy smile, then offer him some. Without much hesitation, Neteyam opens his mouth widely, letting you feed him a handful. You can’t help but chuckle at his blissful reaction to the taste; it was always fun for you to introduce Neteyam to human snacks. Your father got mad at you sometimes for it but you liked sneaking some for Neteyam, just to see him try it out. The sweets seemed to be too intense for him, but he liked salty things.

“Good?” you ask him. Neteyam hums, then opens his mouth again, signaling for more.

You chuckle before feeding him another handful. Though a teenager, Neteyam still required much more feeding than you did. So if you had a couple of chips at a time, Neteyam had to have a triple to fill his mouth.

“How did you know to bring these?” you ask him, now reaching for the bag of cookies.

From your previous tastings, you knew that Neteyam didn’t like chocolate chip cookies. Or anything with chocolate, to be fair. You did not hide your disappointment the first time he almost gagged at the chocolate kiss you gave him, offended by the way his eyes teared up.

“Norm told me that your favorite food can help,” he shrugged, watching you bite down on a cookie.

Your eyes closed in satisfaction as you chewed on it, savoring the taste that filled your mouth. You haven’t had those in a long time.

“Help with what?” you open your eyes again.

“Your human thing,” Neteyam gestures at your stomach.

“Did Norm tell you what it means?”

You feel heat flush to your cheeks, when Neteyam nods his head. You’re not sure why but the thought of Neteyam knowing makes you feel a little embarrassed. Not because there was anything embarrassing about getting a period. You just couldn’t imagine how weird it might be for him to know that you were bleeding out right at this moment, and he could probably smell it.

“Do you want to cuddle?” his voice catches your attention again. Where did he get that from?

You gulp down nervously, confused at how nonchalant he is. Maybe it’s not a big deal to him? He probably just wants to be supportive.

“Cuddle? Like, with you?” you clarify.

“Who else?” Neteyam chuckles, standing up.

He doesn’t wait for your response, instead gently nudging you to move to the middle of your bed. He was too big for it, so instead of laying down next to you, Neteyam decides to act like your headboard. You watch in confusion, as he slings his left foot over the bed and sits down, pressing his back against the wall, and setting down pillows on his lap.

“Come on,” Neteyam pats the pillows, encouraging you to lay down.

You hesitate for a second, before laying down, as Neteyam’s huge frame hangs over you. He smiles at how small you look, gently propping up the pillows under your head to make sure you’re comfortable.

“This is a little weird,” you sigh, looking up at his face.

Neteyam only chuckles and grabs the bag of cookies. He takes one out and offers it to you, bringing it to your mouth. As you open up to take a bite, Neteyam suddenly moves it out of your reach. You huff.

"Please, do not choke," he warns, before finally letting you bite into the cookie.

Eventually, you find yourself sitting up, leaning against his chest. As you swallow the bite, Neteyam feeds you again, listening to the satisfied sounds you make.

“Feel better about the human stuff?” he nudges your shoulder.

“Much better, thank you,” you turn a little to look at his face.

While you were spending a lot of time with him, you’ve never found yourself in such close proximity with him. It felt weird but comforting. Like he offered you some sort of protection, a shield.

“Can I ask what it feels like?” Neteyam breaks the silence, “Norm was sweating trying to explain it to me.”

You laugh at the thought of Norm trying to explain human biology to him. Nestling against Neteyam's chest, you make yourself comfortable and start talking. You both enjoy the snacks he brought, and occasionally he comforts you by rubbing small circles on your shoulders and arms. As the evening wears on, you start to feel tired and eventually doze off in his arms.

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