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madschiavelique · 11 months

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miguel must have some severe neck pain due him being 6’9 and needing to bend to speak with everyone. so i suggest reader to lay him on his back and ride the shit out of his face till his neck is properly straightened and he is drunk dumb on your juices 😇

oMG anon you're a genius !?!? this is SO creative i'm kissing ur brain

summary : you ride miguel's face until it fixes his neck

content warning : SMUT (18+) minors dni, oral sex (reader receiving), miguel eats you out, overstimulation, no use of Y/N, fem!reader, miguel is pussy drunk word count : 888

Miguel's days always seemed to end with a particularly unpleasant muscle ache forming in the back of his neck. The cause and sole reason for this? His height.

It's quite simple, Miguel was huge, 6'9 to be exact, and few people in the Spider Society were anywhere near his height nor width.

He lowered his neck to look at everyone, feeling like a tower trying to talk to passers-by in the street. He couldn't shake off this feeling, but he was always standing up, rare were the moments of his day where he was sitting anywhere.

One minute he was talking to a smaller spider, making him bend his head to maintain conversation politely enough. In another, he had to whisper to discuss confidential matters in public, making him bend the rest of his body as well. And now he'd just come back from a meeting where he'd spent most of his time talking to members smaller than himself.

And he'd already tried so many things to fix his situation: putting essential oil on the back of his neck and massaging it until he relaxed, putting a hot water bottle under his pillow when he was lying on his bed, or even putting on a neck brace, even though he felt profoundly ridiculous when he was wearing it and kept it on just for when he was in his quarters. He'd even asked you to massage the back of his neck at times, but you weren't always available to help him with that.

It was then, as he was returning once again to his quarters where you were staying, complaining and massaging his neck from his long day, that you came up with a little idea. You told him what you had in mind, and he raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued.

And that's how you found yourself on top of him, his head on the mattress revelling in your cunt while his face was pressed against your thighs. His saliva mixed with the succulent juices you were spilling for him dripped down his cheeks, and you were breathless.

"Miguel," you protested, "please-" your breath was ragged, your thighs trembling around his face, "it's too much."

Four, Miguel had given you four orgasms in this position alone by now, returning each time, never, oh never, tiring of your taste and warmth. At first you'd ridden him proudly, your pelvis undulating fluidly against his mouth and clutching your fingers in his hair. But now it was he who held your pelvis, preventing you from withdrawing from him as your own hands rested on his.

He seemed unstoppable, but on your side, every sensation seemed to be heightened tenfold as his fingers ran gently over your thigh sending an extra wave of heat through your lower belly. He was parting your folds with his toungue, fucking you with it relentlessly.

"Once more, por favor, nena," he mumbled, the sensation of his voice vibrating against you like that sending electric shocks through your body, a cry escaping you as you tilted your head to the side, disorientated, hoping you'd even be able to stand until your next orgasm.

You were always worried that you'd suffocate him, that your whole weight resting on his face would make him choke or that your thighs pressing against his cheeks would hurt, but to be honest, that's all Miguel wanted.

He wanted to cram himself between your thighs, you crushing him made him feel light after all, so he gripped your thighs and hips, holding you firmly against him as he nestled himself further against you.

He was drunk on you, drunk on your essence, your skin that he could grip, and he was proud to make you come so many times. Your weight was pressing down on his head superbly, and he didn't care if he ended up smothered under you.

His tongue worked wonders, his lips sometimes sucking on your clit, wrapping it in saliva and then kissing it afterwards. Sometimes you could even feel him graze your flesh with the tip of his fang. He hardened his tongue, stretching it out to penetrate you as far as he could, kissing your lips from time to time, and all these gestures again began to tighten the knot that had formed in your lower stomach.

"Miguel-" you whimpered, feeling as if all the words you wanted to say were going to come out pre-chewed and unintelligible.

Your fingers snaked through his hair, gripping it hard to anchor yourself, and he let out a moan against your pussy that vibrated through your entire being. He was pulling the strings of your body and you were singing for him.

The orgasm swept through you and fireworks went off inside you like a supernova, your whole body shaking as your moan rippled through your throat. You suddenly folded in half like a wilting flower, jolting as Miguel laid you back against him, stroking your hair and gently kissing your forehead as he whispered soft, tender words of praise.

However, your suggestion had indeed worked, because just after this pleasant experience, there was no longer any pain in the back of his neck. And from now on, when the accumulation of pain and aches began to make him feel too exhausted, he knew what he had to do.

#madschiavelique ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎#mads' requests ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x y/n #miguel spiderman #miguel atsv #smut

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churipu · 6 months

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I love you so so much omg ur posts, ur content, un vibe everything. you’re so so nice and yet you have me crying over every single post because of how good this is. Like yesterday i had a whole debate talking to myself abt how good of a person you were and how the likes were not doing you justice.. usually I never send requests mostly because i’m scared they take a look at it and be like “you cannot be srs”. Idk if it makes sense but oh well😭😭

can i request u make a scenario where the reader is insecure and worried their partner is going to leave them for someone prettier but they dont say anything and just start to distance themselves from them from how big of a toll it was taking on the reader? thank you sm😭🫶🏽

YOU BEING INSECURE + JJK MEN

featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, sukuna ryomen x reader

warning. cursing

note. ANON YOU'RE SO SWEET OMG BRB SOBBING HAVE ABIG FAT KISS, and i love this request so much, you don't have to worry <33 thank you for requesting my love, sorry it took so long :')

GOJO SATORU. even if gojo didn't seem like the type to be aware of his surroundings — he is very much aware. behind those blindfolds and dark glasses, his eyes darts everywhere, making sure everything is fine. even if one small thing is different to his eyes, he'll notice.

so when you began distancing yourself from him, he notices off the bat. but decided to say nothing just to make sure of it, gojo did not want to jump into conclusions. it started off as you telling him that you're busy to go on dates, or even declining his offers when he wanted to come over to your place.

he didn't think much of it until it visibly worsened, you looked miserable. when he sees you, it was like the shine in your eyes have gone away — gojo didn't know what happened, but he automatically assumed that he was behind the disappearance of it. when he asks you if you were okay, you brushed him off with a forced out smile, and he was dying to push you to just tell him everything.

but he didn't. he was afraid that if he'd push you, it would spiral an argument. for a while, he was walking on eggshells around you, you were like a ticking time bomb ready to blow up at any minute.

it was gnawing internally in gojo's mind, what did he do? what happened to you? what happened to y/n?

his y/n.

so when shoko drops the bomb on him, asking if he had broken up with you. gojo was mortified, is that what it looks like to other people? him and you calling it off? he was terrified, scared, nervous. the strongest sorcerer. yeah — he was scared.

and so he felt like it was a now or never situation.

"y/n, can we talk?"

you grimaced at his soft voice, wondering if this is the part where he's had enough and decided he'd leave you. but you nodded your head, your mind was ready, you were ready to hear it, those words: "i want to break up with you."

"please talk to me. i can't do this whole...you avoiding me, tell me what's bothering you...please." the desperation in his voice was visible, almost as if he was in the verge of tears.

his cerulean eyes were filled with such hopelessness, one you've never seen even when he was fighting a curse. you widened your eyes and inhaled sharply, "i...i'm sorry, satoru."

that was all you managed to muster up and gojo was clueless, he needed more answers, he needed answers to why you were like this, "baby, i don't... is it me? did i do anything wrong to you? please tell me, don't run away.. let me make it up to you."

it pained you to see that he thinks it was him, when it was you behind this. you shook your head, "'s not you 'ts me."

and that made gojo even more terrified than he already is, a lot of questions spiraling in his mind, did you find someone else? did you get bored of him? were you finally breaking up with him because of his constant bothering? so many questions.

"i just...there're so many more people prettier than i am. i just can't stop thinking about it. you leaving and all. 'm sorry i distanced myself from you." when you said that, gojo felt like half of his questions were all useless and he felt a bit relieved to finally get an answer to his speculations.

gojo wasted no time pulling you into his embrace, he needed it, you needed it. both of you needed it just as much, you felt so small in his embrace, head buried into his chest. gojo didn't move a bit, fearing if he moved at all — you'd break, you looked so fragile and so dainty, it scares him.

"i..love you so much." was all he could say,

"'ts you, 'ts you that i love. it hurts me to hear you talk like that." you felt like shit, you really do — so you said nothing back, you kept your face hidden in his chest.

and gojo didn't pry you away, he just needed to be close to you, "sorry."

that was when he pulled away, "you don't have to be sorry, but please talk to me, 'ts not fair if we're happy together and you have to be sad alone.." you hated crying in front of people, especially gojo, and he knew that about you.

so when you cried in that moment, gojo knew this wasn't something light — he didn't need any more explaining from you, he was just there by your side the whole night. and the next day. the next week. month. year. both of you never spoke of it again.

he's in love with you and nobody could change that, he thinks you're the prettiest anyways.

NANAMI KENTO. nanami's eyes are always on you. nobody else. and everyone knows that.

everyone except for you, unfortunately.

usually he comes home and you were always there to greet him, with a hug and kiss. it was an inseparable combo he made a routine, but for the past couple of days — he hasn't been getting that.

instead, he was greeted with silence. and just from the second time, he knew that something was definitely wrong with you. he'll find you curled up in bed, under the covers like it was the only thing that mattered in the world; but he tries to see it as a sign of exhaustion.

nanami watches your every move, for the past couple of days. you have been out of it. to the point where it was plain obvious and nanami tries asking about it, but you tell him it was just because of the stress. a sweetheart he is, he tries telling you to get some rest from work — he'd even excuse you if it's needed, but you tell him that wasn't needed and that you were fine.

obviously lying. he could see it, smell it, hear it.

it was suffocating. everything was suffocating to you, it's like everything was slowly masticating on every fiber in your body. you wanted to just, drop down and cry but whenever you try to, you just end up sitting on the floor blankly staring at nothing.

it scares yourself sometimes how empty your eyes look.

you wouldn't be surprised if nanami didn't come back home one day because he's so fed up — that's what you've been planting in you. that nanami would leave you for prettier people, for people who don't overthink, people who are generally better than you.

"y/n?"

oh. you didn't even hear him come home, you sat on the bedroom floor trying to push yourself up. and you couldn't even do that, so when nanami opens the bedroom door, seeing you on the floor — he said nothing, not even a hello.

nanami just scoops you into his arms and lays you down on the bed mutely, his slender fingers brushing your hair, "i love you," he murmurs quietly.

that was enough to make tears dwell up at the corner of your eyes, and he said nothing, grazing your tears away, "'m sorry. 'm so sorry, kento."

nanami didn't understand why you were apologizing, he hushed you, cradling you in his embrace as you let your tears free fall, "why are you sorry?"

that's when it struck you, why were you apologizing?

nanami didn't question you any further but he held you close, pressing chaste kisses onto your forehead, "is something in your mind?" you nodded slowly, "do you want to tell me about it?"

you nodded, inhaling sharply, "i just don't feel pretty enough...i feel like you deserve better than me, ken."

nanami laced your fingers with his, kissing your knuckles, "why do you say such things?" you didn't answer him, and it just breaks his heart even more, "you're perfect for me."

his words fall into deaf ears, but you didn't continue saying your worries, you just feel like nanami gets a gist of it. nanami didn't leave your side, cradling you in his arms like you're the most fragile being, "i love you," he kissed your forehead, "so much," and he kisses your lips.

nanami makes sure to spend every second telling you how much he loves you, telling you how beautiful you are, and how you're the most perfect for him.

SUKUNA RYOMEN. he hates it when you ignore him without any explanations, he's told you before, "if you have anything to say, say it to my face, don't ignore me."

but this feels like something you couldn't tell him, how you feel. it's obvious that you were distancing yourself from him, when he calls you, you sometimes pretend like you didn't hear him — and when he confronts you later, you tell him that you just didn't hear his calls.

"you're ignoring me, hm?"

"what? no— i just didn't hear you calling out to me."

don't even try to lie to him because he will always confront you about it, he sees right through you and your lies. the second time you try to run away from him when he calls out to you, he wastes no time holding you in place; confronting you right at that moment.

"why're you running away, brat?"

"i...oh, i didn't realize you were here, ryo." sukuna clicks his tongue in mere annoyance — what a bad actor you are, it's so ridiculous sukuna wanted to just burst out into laughter.

"bullshit. why're you avoiding me?"

that was it. you were cornered just like that. sighing, there isn't any way out unless you tell him — sukuna just won't let you go unless you tell him everything behind your recent behaviors.

"just don't feel pretty enough for you," you mutter out, avoiding his sharp gaze, "i feel like you can do much better than me. you deserve better than me."

sukuna gave you nothing but a mere smirk, pushing his lips onto yours. god, he didn't want to admit it — but he hates the way you talk shit about yourself, if he could tell you everything that he loves about you, he would. but he didn't because he's a jackass (and he's too shy to tell you that).

"that's it?" that's it? that's it?

you were about to push him away when he gives you that glare of his, "which person has been making you think like that?"

"no one. me."

he flicks your forehead, "then stop."

if only it was that easy, you grumbled at his response, and said nothing else so you could just leave. but sukuna, despite his ignorant answers always makes sure that you never run away from him anymore, he's a lot more touchy than usual — and he (tries) to compliment you and your appearance.

keyword: tries

he fails at it though. but you gave him kudos for trying, that's all that matters, really. that he makes you feel loved.

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onmidnights · 2 years

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#@ anon omg that’s a nice one #I actually had so many versions of lavender haze saved but I let them go bc so many ppl had diff variations already so I was like 🧍‍♀️#that’s a good one tho… very tempting #thank you btw!!! <3 #m

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yolelejiju · 6 months

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DAMN, YOU WRITE SO GORGEOUS!! I'M GLAD, DUDE. ahem. I have this idea: Toji married a very young girl (she is 20 or 21 years old. Toji is 39 years old) Megumi is 18 years old. and Megumi sees her young stepmother and falls in love with her. and he, while Toji is not at home, will fuck her while she sleeps soundly. (maybe Toji will find out about this)😈🤝🫦

Omg anon I’m sorry I just saw this.

TW: somnophilia, noncon

Megumi is aged up, AFAB reader

Not proofread, WIP (maybe)

After graduating from Jujutsu High, Megumi finds it difficult to adjust to dating in adulthood. All of his friends seem to have found someone special, leaving Megumi to often find himself alone. Although he has been attracted to someone before, the problem is that the person he desires is already taken. Not only that, but this person has recently married his father.

His father has brought home many women over the years of varying ages and bodies with one thing in common; they were always somewhat loaded with cash. Most women quickly fell for his father’s looks and great figure but would eventually leave due to his gambling and poor money management…

You were different from others. You showed patience with his father and always tried to find a way to balance his gambling habits without draining your pockets. You even offered pocket money to Megumi and Tsumiki when they went out. Whenever you left, you would come back with a gift or a snack for Megumi, letting him know that you constantly think about him and dropping hints of possible romantic interest.

I mean, what was even the age gap between you two? What two maybe three years? You were closer to megumi in age than you were Toji, and these days you’re home alone more with Megumi more than anyone else.

Was it because you had feelings for him? Was there something more to the bun you gave him or the juice the two of you shared? Were you truly thirsty or did you just want to give him an indirect kiss.

You drove Megumi wild and all you did was exist. He wondered what it was about you that convinced his dad to bring you home. It has to be your patient forgiving nature.

Megumi knows you know he likes you. He knows you’ve caught him ogling your body when wearing something low cut. He knows you feel him press his groin against your lower back when he needs to “get by” you. He sees your body stiffen and your mind freeze every time. He doesn’t know if you’ve even noticed this but you never brought up the fact that you’d wake up with cum on your hand from when he’d use it to jerk himself off. You’ve even forgiven him for walking in on you while we’re in the shower.

So he’s sure you’ll forgive him for what he’s about to do now as he towers over your unconscious resting body. His father wouldn’t be back a few days and you had gotten careless leaving your bedroom door unlocked maybe even on purpose.

You lay blissfully unaware of your exposures legs and ass as your nightgown has ridden up. The way the moonlight flashed through the window on your body seemed almost as if it was calling megumi and telling him to take you there and now.

Megumi drags his hand between your legs up to your inner thigh. He takes his hand lifting your dress up to completely expose your ass all the way before gripping on of your cheek harshly to spread it. He spread your cheeks until he could see your anus start to gape and your pussy lips part. He stares in awe, everything about you truly is beautiful.

He’s dreamed of this pussy for so long, night after night as he wrapped a pair of your dirty panties around his length and jerked himself off until they were soaked in his cum. He strokes his dick thinking of what it would be like to be inside of you. To pin you down and fuck you, to breed you.

He tries to gently flip your body over onto its back, he gets a better view of your face that’s glows under the moonlight peaking through the window blinds. His eyes roam over the curves of your body. Your perky nipples are peeking through your night gown top, moving ever so slightly with every exhale.

He lines the head of his cock with your entrance, slowly pushing it in, just as the head pops through your first ring he stares at your face and watches as your brows furrow but you still remain asleep.just with him putting his tip in has him ready to cum and he doesn’t know if he’ll last much longer so he pulls himself althe way out and slams his full length inside of you. He bites his lip to hold back his own moans and watches your pained face, your eyes try to open and your body tries to wake up but your sleeping pills get the better and you fall back to sleep.

He starts to pump into you a bit faster, with shaky breaths and weak arms buckling. The sound of his balls slapping your ass echoes throughout the room complimented by the squelching of your pussy. Every time he'd pull out he'd leave just the tip of his dick in before slamming his whole length inside you, watching your body shake and breast bounce with each thrust. he knows he should pull out but every time he tries to convince himself not to cum he finds himself inching so much closer to his climax, it’s not until he sees your legs start to shake and your walls grip his length does he shove himself deep inside you and fuck into you all his cum.

He pulls himself out fighting to catch his Breath, he watches his cum spill back out of your tired used pussy and can’t help but feel himself get hard again. Maybe he’ll be kind and give your pussy time to recover and break your cute little asshole in for this round.

#tw.noncon #tw.somnophilia #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi smut #megumi x reader #megumi x y/n #dead dove december #tw stepcest #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw noncon #megumi x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen

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avis-writeshq · 4 months

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omg omg please for track four of your event 🙈 we know that sparks fly!reader calls spencer ‘Walter’ but can we get the first time he calls her ‘angel’ please???? 💕💕

l.d.s.k – spencer reid [bonus 'sparks fly' chapter]

summary: in other words, the first time spencer calls you an angel pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff warnings: rated 15+ for general criminal minds violence, canon compliant with s1 e6 ‘L.D.S.K’, a hint of Derek slander oops, not beta read wc: 2.2k a/n: many many apologies for the delay anon! i hope this can live up to your expectations! sparks fly masterlist | event page

“Reid failed his qualification,” Elle tells you as she makes her way into the bullpen looking flawless as ever.

Her words bring you out of your daily crossword puzzle, your brows furrowing. “He failed?”

“Well, he can re-test in two weeks,” Gideon says dismissively, making his way over to the water dispenser.

Elle shrugs, craning her head to look at him. “They took his gun this morning,” she replies. She looks back over. “Be gentle.”

“I’m always gentle,” you tell her, harshly erasing a wrong answer in your puzzle. “Was that not already obvious?”

“I’m not talking to you,” Elle responds swiftly, her gaze set on Derek’s forehead.

Derek is quick to raise his hands in surrender, but the glimmer of amusement sparks in his eyes. You narrow your own just as Spencer comes walking through the glass doors with Gideon following behind him. The young doctor looks dejected as ever, the grip he has on the strap of his bag so tight that his knuckles blanche.

He slumps down onto his desk beside you, turning the computer on with a scowl. You open your mouth to say something, an attempt of making him feel better, but Derek beats you to it.

“We’re all here for you,” Derek says, noticing the way Spencer avoids his gaze. “I’m serious.”

It starts off well. Spencer finally begrudgingly looks Derek in the eye, an unimpressed look on his face.

“If you ever need anything,” Derek continues, fishing something out of his pocket. You lean over the desk divider to get a better look, but apparently you don’t need to. A shrill whistle sound fills the air, and Morgan snickers in jest. “Just blow on that.”

Spencer’s face falls into a stern frown as he hurries to rip the whistle off his neck, throwing it onto his desk.

You try once more to offer any form of condolences but your efforts are once again cut off by JJ carrying a stack of manila folders and passing them off to the team. You don’t pay much attention to what she’s saying (something about a shooting and three victims?), your gaze fixed on Spencer’s troubled face. The others rattle off about long distance serial killers and profiling, and you can’t help but feel a little bad for your lack of contribution, but your thoughts are filled with more pressing matters.

After the briefing and Hotch saying a simple, “Wheels up in twenty”, you turn in Derek’s direction as you stuff your bag with files and random pieces of stationary. Elle sits within earshot, packing her own things.

“Why are you so mean to him?” Your voice carries no malice and you don’t look in his direction at all, head down as you furrow through your go-bag.

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“To Spencer,” you clarify, “like, just now. He was already in a bad mood. You didn’t really have to say much else.”

“I’m just… toughening him up,” Derek says with a shrug.

“This job would do that by itself. Spencer doesn’t need to ‘toughen up’, and this job doesn’t need your help to do that, either.” You lift your shoulder noncommittally. “I think you’re just insecure.”

Elle cackles at that, stifling her laughter behind her fist while Derek snaps his head in your direction. “Alright then, I’ll bite. How am I insecure?”

“You’re a classic alpha male, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but you’re an alpha male who is in a work environment where almost every other man is also an alpha male. Spencer is the opposite; he’s more timid which, again, not a bad thing, and he’s also more intellectually gifted.” A wry smile spreads across your face as you hoist your bag off your desk and sling it over your shoulder. “You’re insecure that he’s smarter than you and because he’s the quote-un-quote ‘weakest’ of the pack, you just can’t help but pick on him.”

“Reid and I are friends,” Derek says defensively. “And come on, you can’t tell me that you don’t his ramblings a little bit annoying.”

You hum. “I don’t find them annoying. Even if I did, I wouldn’t cut my friends off when they’re talking about something they find interesting.”

Spencer doesn’t mean to eavesdrop. He swears that it was never his intention– he just forgot his wallet on his desk after everything that happened that morning. Regardless, hearing you defend him in such a way is enough to make his stomach flip.

He’s barely known you for two years. He joined the team a little after you did, granted, he was a permanent addition to the team while you at the time was just interning as a part of the course you were taking. It was only after a very long discussion with Hotch that you became a solid member of the BAU (you told Spencer all of this while you shook out your hands and by extension the nerves you experienced when you were seated in front of your boss’s desk with your resume. It took everything in him to not grab onto your hands and hold them firmly in his).

Even when you were an intern and only at work two out of the five workdays, Spencer was able to find solace in you. He didn’t really understand the logistics of it, much to his chagrin, but he has chalked it up to you being a little younger than him and feeling that slight twinge of ‘protectiveness’ over you. It doesn’t make sense, he gathers upon second thought, you don’t need protecting. Despite that, he finds himself gravitating to you as if you were the earth and he was the moon. You, full of life and all things wonderful, and him, a dim light that he hopes could brighten up your darkest nights.

He doesn’t think that that comparison is accurate enough, is the conclusion he comes to when he hears you chastise Derek for his lack of compassion. It isn’t so much ‘chastising’ as it is stating a fact. Spencer thinks you’re an angel and that everyone should kiss the floor you walk on. His head spins with facts about angels and their origins. He mumbles the facts under his breath, considering all the different backgrounds of angels and the connotations of viewing you as such. Spencer scrunches his nose in annoyance. He’ll be thinking about this the entire flight.

***

You sit next to him during the flight. Your hands are in your lap as you fiddle with your fingertips, almost as if you’re contemplating something. Spencer glances at you expectantly from the corner of his eye, ignoring the book he is supposed to be reading.

“I know I shouldn’t really have to say this, but don’t worry about Derek,” you tell him through a hushed whisper. “He’s just being an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Spencer says, trying to not look fazed about the situation. “I know.”

You shift again in your seat before playfully flipping his collar upwards. “I like this shirt on you. Red is totally your colour.”

He thinks it’s pathetic, the way his eyes light up and the way he physically preens at your compliments. “There have been studies on the colour red and how it may impact one’s perceptions of others. Actually, it has been found that seeing the colour red can cause an elevation in blood pressure, enhanced metabolism, and a spike in heart rate which are all physiological changes associated in increased energy levels. Another study showed that those who wear red are perceived to be more sexually appealing than those who wear other colours.”

His cheeks flare in embarrassment upon realising the insinuation of his words and he hurriedly backtracks. “Not that I was expecting anything! It was just interesting and–”

“Walter, it’s fine.” You laugh, rolling your eyes. “It’s okay! You’re right, it is interesting.”

Spencer doesn’t think you’re an angel anymore. He knows it. He manages to crack a smile. “You think so?”

You nod enthusiastically, looking over at him. “Tell me more.”

He thinks that he might faint.

***

The hospital is under lockdown. Your head spins when you see SWAT making their way through the lobby, armed in heavy bulletproof uniform and guns that are at least half your height. You’ve never had to work a situation where they had to be called and the severity of the situation sinks in.

“Hotch and Spencer will be okay, right?” You ask worriedly, glancing over to where Gideon is trying to negotiate with the captain.

“They’re good at what they do,” JJ reassures gently, squeezing your arm. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Gideon returns with a disgruntled frown, gesturing with annoyance towards the SWAT team. “They’re taking the ER in three minutes.”

“That’s it?” Your words are quiet as you try not to attract the attention of the people in said team. “So, what, Hotch and Spencer need to talk down a crazy armed sociopath in three minutes?”

“It’s like they don’t even want our help,” Elle says through a grumble. “What’s the point of asking us here if they’re not even going to listen to us?”

Somehow, those three minutes are both the longest and shortest three minutes of your life. There’s nothing you can do except wait and even then, the hospital is borderline silent. You’re not necessarily sure if that’s a good thing. You watch with the others as SWAT trek up the stairs in formation, and you wring your hands out nervously. Time continues to tick by and just when you’re sure that you’ll be stuck here for the next however many hours, a loud bang rings through the hospital. It’s so sudden that you jolt on the spot, your head snapping towards the door.

A few civilians, all accompanied by SWAT agents, make their way through the doors and towards the ambulances stationed outside. You follow them out, taking in a breath of fresh night air while a shiver runs down your spine from the cool breeze. Everything seems to be in order and everyone seems to be calm and collected. That must be a good sign, right?

Spence grimaces from his spot on the back of an ambulance, rubbing at his lower torso. The pain isn’t that bad anymore, but it does feel a little raw from where Hotch repeatedly kicked him. His face is bruised from where Phillip Dowd hit him with the back of his rifle. The gun he used feels heavy in his pocket and he genuinely isn’t used to it being there.

“You alright?” Hotch asks. He’s using a softer tone, one that Spencer isn’t particularly accustomed to.

Spencer nods, his arms crossed over his stomach. “Yeah.”

“Nice shot.”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “I was aiming for his leg.”

Hotch looks a little amused before he continues, “I wouldn’t have kept kicking but I was afraid you didn’t get my plan.”

“I got your plan the minute you moved the hostages out of my line of fire,” Spencer says genuinely, nodding.

“Well, I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly,” Hotch says guiltily.

Spencer can’t help but laugh quietly. “Hotch, I was a twelve year old child prodigy in a Las Vegas public high school. You kick like a nine year old girl.” He pauses, offering the gun back to him.

“No, keep it,” Hotch says, patting Spencer squarely on the shoulder. “As far as I’m concerned you passed your qualification.”

Spencer offers a smile as his boss walks away, his gaze meeting yours as you hurry over to him. “Hey–”

“Walter, your face,” you lament with a frown, reaching a hand out to brush against the bruising.

Spencer flinches, hissing softly and you pull back. “It’s still a little sore.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, glancing again at his injuries, worry laced in your tone and etched upon your features.

“You’re an angel,” Spencer says softly in a daze, watching the way the flashing lights from the ambulance.

Heat travels up towards your cheeks at his words and you press the backs of your hands against your face in an attempt to calm yourself down. “I’m not an angel.”

He’s in too deep to try and backtrack so he nods. “You are,” he says honestly, looking up at you from where he sits on the ambulance. “And if you can call me by my middle name, doesn’t that mean I can give you a nickname too?”

“Well, I guess,” you relent, your heart still aching at the sight of the bruise on the side of his face.

He beams at you as he pockets the gun. “Alright, then, angel.”

Your cheeks grow hot again and this time you feel the blood rush to your ears. “It’ll take a while to get used to it.”

He laughs. “But you’ll get used to it.”

“I heard what you did in there,” you say swiftly, effectively changing the subject. “You don’t need that whistle anymore.”

Spencer nods and smiles. “Yeah. Thanks, angel.”

“Anytime, Walter.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

sparks fly masterlist | event page

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k2ntoss · 4 months

Note

i feel like I've been MIA for too long lmao but hooo boyyy i have so many thoughts now because of that prompt list omg 🫠 i NEED -Fucking someone so good that they struggle to kiss you back.- and “Spread your legs baby, that’s it…Wider.” with Jason immediately please Mara, the brain rot demands it 😭

-🦊

JUST LOOK AT THIS, MY FAVORITE ANON !!! (as if it wasn't clear before) have i told you already how i love the way your mind brings the brain rot to work??? well, i do. let's get at it, babe

fucking someone so good they struggle to kiss you back + "spread your legs baby, that's it... wider"

movie nights are for two things, actually watching your movie selection while cuddling with your partner or to completely ignore whatever was playing on the screen while your partner fucked the life out of you. you go guess what was jason's plan for tonight's movie plan.

you're actually trying to focus on the movie, your eyes fixed on the screen as you lay on jason's chest and he holds you softly, his chin resting on your shoulder as he leans in to leave a soft peck on your skin. it's innocent and sweet at first but then one of his hands slides under your shirt, caressing your skin and drawing abstract lines on your stomach that made your attention drift away when he pressed a kiss on your jaw.

"jay... are you even watching the mo–" you were speaking, trying to scold him but your words caught on your throat when his hand moved further up and cupped one of your breasts at the same time he licked your neck.

"i'm not watching the movie, baby" he whispers against your skin, his lips gracing your neck right before he kisses that spot behind your ear "i want to get touchy with my pretty girl."

"oh, so you want to get touchy?" you ask, there's now a hint of amusement and mischief on your voice as you turn your face to look at him and jason can't help but chuckle and nod, like a kid that's been caught red handed doing something he wasn't supposed to "and who said i wanted to let you, jaybird?" you ask but deep down you knew you would let jason get his way with you anytime he wanted to.

"you... you're not doing a thing to stop me from touching you like this" he says, his voice is low and his hands are now both on your chest, he squeezes your tits firmly before lifting your bra "it is because you know you're all mine to enjoy or because you want me to actually feel you up completely?"

the way he speaks and touches you manage to drag a soft moan out of your lips and it makes him feel powerful because he knows how to make you melt. that's what he wants, jason wants to be the one to always make you feel good, he wants the reason you smile and moan, the only one to know every corner of your body so he could give back all the good things you gave him.

jason really enjoys the way it's so easy for him to shut your mind off with the smallest touch when mixed with the right words, he loves whispering into your ear and kissing your neck just to see how needy you can get from it but it was just the effect jason's touch had on you and he couldn't deny you could do the same to him. so now when he gets your shirt lifted and squeezes your breast while kissing your neck he has to hold back a moan when you move and push him to be able and sit on his lap.

"sometimes you should try to pay attention to a movie, you know?" you ask teasingly, leaning in to kiss him again and jason misses no time to let his hands snake under your shirt again just to feel those goosebumps on your skin. it's unthinkable to try and stop to resume your initial plans because your boyfriend is now sucking a subtle trail of small marks on your neck while he starts pulling your shirt off and when he is done your bra stands no chance against him.

"the movie can wait, we can watch it after i make you scream and beg for more..." jason whispers into your ear and he smirks when you tug at the neck of his hoodie, he knows he won and he takes it off and that's when the last strand of control you had vanishes at the sight of his toned body, the faint scars scattered over his skin around that one on his chest that ran all the way down to his stomach it only made him way more appealing.

he really loves the effect he has on you, it makes him feel like he really deserves the way you look at him and how you touch him as if he was your most valuable treasure and he was, his touch equals yours; needy but still lingering enough to make sure you know how he values the fact that you are with him, his grip firm but loving as he holds your hips to make you grind against him once he takes off those comfy sweatpants you wore to bed and that he loved because of how the hugged your figure.

clothes do not last on your bodies and it isn't so much until your body is completely pressed against his while he makes you put your hips up, jason lets his hand wander between your thighs until he has two fingers sneaking over your folds, flicking your clit as he smiles smugly at you.

"do you still want to watch the movie, ma?" he asks, voice now deeper while his finger traces a trail between your folds, teasing your aching pussy before he slips his digits into your entrance. jason looks at you, the hunger in his eyes only adds to your arousal as you grind your hips against his palm, the calloused skin brushing against your swollen clit.

you grunt something that sounds like a shut up and a please mixed up in a hushed moan, as your boyfriend keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you while he kisses and bites your neck, the smirk on his lips doesn't leaves when you struggle to beg him from how much he teases because his free arm is around your back and his hand is now groping your breast.

"already so desperate? i just started, sweetie" he coos you mockingly as he slowly lays you down under him, lips trailing down your neck until he is now kissing and biting on your nipple "just look at the pretty mess you are, all wet around my fingers and you could just cum like this... should i let you get off like this?"

"god, jason– don't do that, i need you" you moan breathlessly and for some reason his words only get you more needy, making jason feel a huge ego boost as he gives you that pretty shit eating grin before he switches to your other breast, sucking and teasing you more as his fingers leave your pussy, entrance now clenching around nothing.

there's a feeling of relief once you can see jason moving to be between your legs as he trails his kisses to your tummy, lovingly and devoted and his hands squeeze your legs softly to try and help your body to calm a little to no overstimulate you just yet.

"spread your legs baby," he says softly, his lips brushing against your skin and the sweetness on his touch and words makes you comply without thinking twice, your legs spreading almost on its own for him "that's it... wider" he says now smugly, seeing the way you open up just at his presence makes him feel so powerful.

he holds onto the back of your knees, pushing your legs until he makes them rest over his shoulder. his hand guides his hard dick until his tip is lined up with your pussy and he pushes in, slowly as a low growl escapes his throat, holding onto your hips to give a first stroke.

"so fucking thight and i had already stretched your pretty cunt before" he says, his body still until you nod for him to start moving and he doesn't hesitates to start with a quick pace "that's such a pretty toy i got myself, didn't i? i just have to touch you and you'll let me have my way with you..."

he makes it sound so good you can't help but moan, one of your hands reaching for his neck to pull him from his nape; fingers tangling on his hair as you bring his face close to yours and jason only makes his thrusts faster, hiting all the right spots as he holds you bent like this.

"jay– jay please" you whine as you try to really bring his lips to yours, it amuses him and you hear it on his rumbling chuckle, his hands gripping your hips in a way you knew your skin would be painted in finger-print-bruises by tomorrow but you just loved that, silky skin painted with his hickeys and bite marks, a sing of that ownership he had over you.

"use your words, princess," he whispers into your ear, the sound of the dominance on his voice making you moan loudly when his hands also squeeze your ass playfully "you're a big girl, you can use that pretty mouth of yours can't you?"

"please, kiss me jay" you beg, voice shaky as he pounds into you and the way jason is closer now on top of your body, his shoulders still holding your legs up just making the angle perfect for his tip to kiss your cervix.

jason does as you ask, leaning in a pressing a bruissing kiss on your lips and he seems pretty resolved to devour your mouth like that but instead he's met with you really struggling to kiss him back and he is lost in this discovering. it encourages him to move your body as if you were a pretty doll for him to use, placing your legs against your chest but this time only over one of his shoulders.

"feels like too much, pretty doll?" he asks, whispering into your ear almost in a growl and he changes his pace, slowing down to give you deep and slow strokes but still slamming his hips against yours.

"too good, jay... feels just so good" your voice slurred as you cry for him to move a bit faster but jason has just found out how to play with you a little more.

"yeah? you sound way too pretty for me to change the pace, crying like a desperate slut" the use of names sends a shiver down your spine, jason knows what buttons to push in order to get your pleasure to skyrocket and he is really proud of it as he keeps pumping into you, hissing in pleasure when he feels your walls clenching around him "god this feels so fucking good, i could cum into you so deep baby, you'll feel me right here"

one of his hands wanders from your hips to your belly and the thought of him reaching so deep inside of your body is enough to make your body tense, there's something new to all of this because you've felt way more sensitive than before and jason is feeling way too eager to find out how much he can do with that.

"jason please, fill me up like this" you say in between shaky moans, legs trembling already and the way you look at him through those teary cute doe eyes makes him throb into you.

"want me to breed you, baby? i want to see you dripping full of me" he says, his pace fastening again but it grows sloppier as his hand moves from your belly to one of your tits, squeezing it and toying with your nipple "you look so pretty like this, angel, so ready for me to use your body over and over again"

it's amazing the way jason manages to shut your brain off, making your words catch on your throat and turning you into a whimpering mess. rocking your hips to meet his movements until your orgasm hits you, pussy squeezing him like a vice, almost making it impossible for jason to keep thrusting inside of you.

the pleasure of your body washes over him, bringing his own climax to his as he releases into your throbbing pussy as he slows down, letting out a low stream of curses before he comes to a halt still holding your legs against his chest.

"i don't think we'll be watching that movie now, ma..."

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q1ngqve · 4 months

Note

Love your wolf! ratio and fox! aventurine!! I'm kinda curious what will they do if they find out bunny! reader is in her heat?

omg anon!!!!! buckle up because you’ll be in for a ride 😵‍💫

they are NOT stopping! it’s you that is in heat but at the end of the day it’s like they’re the ones in heat instead. their sex drive is already high, so can you imagine when you come walking to them weakly, body heating up as you flop onto them, telling them you’re in heat????? you’re literally going to be gobbled up in mere seconds!

you tried to hide from them the first time you had heat (when you’re with them) because you were afraid + you know you can get really sensitive, so you’ve always just dealt with it by taking some medicine. but you did not bring any when you were with them, so you locked yourself in your room. and of course, them being predators, their senses are particularly strong, they knew you were in heat the moment it started, they were just playing nice! wanting to see if you would come to them on your own 😋 you did not in fact, ask for help, but instead chose to suffer in your own by humping the pillows in your room :(

this time though, this time it’s different, it’s so much more unbearable than your usual heat that nothing you did helped ease your pain. you desperately needed release, body trembling from your heat as you stumbled out of the room towards the living room where your boyfriends were! you collapse between the two as your hands pawed at them, eyes watery and cheeks burning, pathetic whimpers of their name rolling off your tongue, begging them to help you.

aventurine, being the tease that he is, kisses your jaw before mumbling into your ear, “please what, bunny? you gotta be specific with your requests or we can’t help you.” ugh such a meanie, he knows you can barely form coherent sentences and yet he’s still teasing you :(

dr ratio would chuckle when you jump in their arms when he plays with your floppy ears! he just loves touching them so much, especially knowing it gets your pussy even wetter, it’s like a horny switch specifically made for them!

i also think they’d go so much harder than they usually do, fucking you hours on end, pumping you full of their cum! how else are they going to make sure you’ll be bred by them? you’ll be leaking so much cum from your pussy and ass by the time they’re done with you <3 but that’s what you want, isn’t it? to be filled up deliciously like the little bunny in heat that you are 🥺ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

they’d use so many toys on you too!!!! vibrators, dildos, nipple clamps, blind folds, etc., the best part is tying you up, bound and unmovable as they fuck you good! they’re head over heels for you, and you’re all theirs, making sure you’re fucked dumb is really the bare minimum!

“you can take it, baby. c’mon, relax that little pussy of yours or we won’t be able to give you what you want.” — fox! aventurine

“oh you sweet, sweet girl, taking us so well!” — fox! aventurine

“what? fucked dumb already? it’s only the second round.” — wolf! ratio

“don’t look at me with heart in your eyes, sweetheart. it only makes me want to fuck you harder.” — wolf! ratio

#animal hybrids!!!!!#🀥 lan’s writings!#☃︎ anons!#hsr #honkai star rail #dr ratio #aventurine #aventurine x reader #dr ratio x reader #hsr smut #veritas ratio hsr #hsr dr ratio #hsr aventurine #aventurine smut #dr ratio smut

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 4 months

Note

omg i really really love your blog<3 you are such a sweet person and so kind to all your followers and others on here and your writing is absolutely amazing!

i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if you could write something for poe dameron? a hurt comfort because in your rules you said you wouldn't accept full angst which honestly is so real of you and i completely agree :D its just, ive read so many fics where poe's best friend or squadron member is either in love with him or fwb with him and he starts dating someone and they look rlly in love but then he leaves the person for the best friend and i cant help but always wonder how the person he left is feeling! and i was wondering if you could write something along the lines of this but he doesnt leave the reader and hes not really in love with his best friend or anything im so sorry this became really long but you can totally ignore this or say you cant do it its absolutely alright!<33

thank you sm though and i hope you have a good day!

Anon, thank you so much for such lovely and kind words! You are AMAZING! (Seriously, they have absolutely made my day/week/year!)

This ask has killed me (positive), my subconsciousness had a lot to say, it seems.

Tangerine, Tangerine

Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Rating: M Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: angst (but with a happy ending), thoughts that a partner is cheating, blood, x-wing fight, swearing (not star wars swearing, because even though Kriff is great, I need to say fuck), Moonbeam as a nickname, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 4494

_______________________________________

It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss.

You’d misunderstood, you’d read the situation wrong, you’d seen incorrectly. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss.

Your radio crackled, “Green Leader, checking in. We’re manoeuvring in 5. Call out.”

“Green Two check.”

“Green Three check.”

It was just a kiss.

“Green Four check.”

It was just a-

“Green Five check.”

Just a-

“Green Six check.”

Just-

“Green Seven,” you swallow. “Check.”

It wasn’t just a kiss.

You patted your helmet twice and rolled your neck, breathing deeply as you settled in. On your left, you could see some of Blue Squadron.

This mission was straightforward - on a holopad.

Two teams to escort The Harbringer, the resistance supply ship. It had been damaged by a rogue blast from a tie fighter just as it jumped to hyperspace and had had to make an emergency landing on one of Tre’Ral’s desert moons.

The crew on board had managed to fix all they could. But without proper materials, there was little chance of the ship making it out of the moon’s thick atmosphere and entering hyperspace. So Blue and Green Squadrons had been dispatched. Blue 1-4 had already made contact, jump-starting The Harbringer enough to get it airborne.

Due to Tre’Ral’s sun and planet density, the gravity on the moons was a little stronger than most world’s atmospheric pressure.

Green Leader, Sena, had repeated through briefing at how this would affect flying. How to be ready for it. And she hadn’t been wrong, it was different flying here. Tougher. And you loved it.

You’d grown up on Para, a planet with a high gravity density. You’d learnt to fly there well before you’d flown in space. Being here on this desolate moon almost felt like home. Your movements seemed smoother, precise. No longer needing to overcorrect for your naturally ingrained harsh movements. No longer spinning out and fighting low gravity, finally working with the tide.

The manoeuvre would see the ships escort The Harbringer out of the moon’s atmosphere and then the rest of Blue squadron would form a sort of 3D star formation around the cargo ship. All jumping to hyperspace at the same time to carry it along with them.

Simple.

In theory.

Everyone had spoken about how practically textbook it was, how easy.

But then, of course, why was Green Squadron going?

No one at the briefing had asked, why would they when the answer was so obvious. This part of the quadrant was teething with First Order. With a slow, busted supply ship you were all practically screaming for them to come and play target practice.

You swallow.

You should be focusing on that, on the mission. Instead of the utter nonsense that was ricocheting around your head and piercing your heart.

I hadn’t just been a kiss.

You and Poe had gotten together clumsily, three months ago, your normal awkwardness drowned out by so much Polanis Red that you almost couldn’t see straight. It had been after the battle of Hurthwen, a nasty dogfight that had everyone hyped up on adrenaline.

He had been drunk when he kissed you, you remembered that.

Maybe he had thought… maybe he had believed he was kissing her instead.

It made a lot more sense.

Sena was the Green Leader, she was a great pilot. One to be reckoned with. She was kind, she was fun, she was beautiful. She and Poe had joined the resistance together, risen the ranks together. Basically inseparable. Always laughing and joking. She had been in the same squad as Poe, under his command before she was promoted to leading one of her own.

They had always been close. Always. Best friends.

Sickness bubbled in your throat.

You remembered Frizz and Hank talking offhandedly, well before you and Poe were a thing. Both of them sure that Sana and Poe were dating or ‘knocking boots’ as Frizz had so elegantly put it.

“Two people can just be friends, you know.” You’d said, trying to hide your little crush on the commander.

“Yeah,” Frizz laughed, “But not them. You seen them together?”

Hank chortled.

Nonsense. You’d brushed it off then. Allowed it to creep into your thoughts when it was dark and the base was quiet. When Poe’s breathing was soft and light behind you, his arm around your waist.

Him and Sana just made a lot more sense than him and you.

“Yeah, but not them. You seen them together?”

Yeah. Now you had.

The Harbringer came into view over the horizon. The seemingly endless stretch of desert was cut through in the distance by a fearsome outcrop of crocks, leading up into a field of formidable mountains.

Blue 1-4 were already hooked up to the cargo ship, all five hoovering moving together as they flew towards you to meet.

You wouldn’t have said things were difficult with you and Poe. Well, you wouldn’t have said that before. It was complicated for everyone on the base, most staff were on different call schedules, off-world or on a mission at all times. Having a relationship wasn’t straightforward. There were stretches where you wouldn’t even be on the same planet for days, but…

But you had thought it was…

It didn’t matter.

You’d gone back to the briefing room, just before take off. You’d wanted to tap the main holoscreen twice, for luck. A little ritual you’d adopted early on. Most pilots were a superstitious bunch.

That’s when you’d seen them. Sana and Poe. Locked in a tight embrace, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss.

Your heartbeat had thundered so loud you’d been surprised they hadn’t heard it. But they’d been too preoccupied to notice your presence.

It was cliche but time had almost slowed, calmed and stretched like the moment you take aim, the second before you fired your ship's canons.

A flash of the control panel had flickered into your mind when you saw them, your fingers twitching as if you had the trigger in your hands.

You’d turned and left without a sound. Without a word. Without letting them know you saw. Leaving them to… whatever they did next.

Was it their first kiss? One of many? Had this been going on well before Poe had taken your hand and led you outside so he could clumsily name all the constellations, making up new ones and backstories to make you smile?

“That one here, you see it?”

“Yeah?”

“That one’s the best one, best in the sky. It’s orange and it’s right next to that other orange one, like they’re holding hands.”

You’d laughed.

“That’s me and you Moonbeam.”

Moonbeam. That stupid nickname.

You’d gone to your room quickly, the one that you and Poe shared, and taken off the necklace he’d given you.

“I want you to wear it for luck, Moonbeam.”

That stupid smile he’d given you as he’d slipped it from his own neck and onto yours. That stupid kiss he’d given you after. You’d thought that expression was cute when you’d seen it, pure. Now it just seemed like he’d been laughing at you, playing some sick joke. ‘How long can I string someone along?’, ‘how far can I go before they realise it’s all pretend?’

You’d left the necklace with the ring slipped through on the small set of shelves in the corner, the one Poe normally kept his holopad on.

It was idiotic, but your neck felt… empty without it. Cold. Every now and then you touched at where the chain normally lay.A subconscious action only brought to the forefront of your mind by the sensation of your own skin instead of metal.

Something caught your eye in the distance, a flash of sunlight glinting off the horizon. Dread twisted in your stomach as realisation dawned a second earlier than your scanners. The extra gravitational pressure and high quantity of magnetic metals in the sand affected everyone’s ship computers, causing a brief information delay.

Your alarm sounded out inside your ship, the radar blinking into life as tie fighters approached from the rock outcrop. They’d used the high mineral concentration to hide their energy signatures.

“Fuck.”

The radio screamed into life, orders out pouring over orders. Blue squadron rushed into position while Green scrambled.

“Blue in place now!”

“It’s gonna be rushed, but we haven’t got a choice!”

“No time!” “Incoming!” “Green half split! Evens left, odds right, let’s keep those fighter’s off The Harbringer and Blue squadron! Gamma pattern!”

“How far away is the Delta?”

“Calling in attack pattern!”

You swing to the right, falling in with Hank and Petal and bank hard, it takes less than a second for you to notice that your squad's movements aren’t as precise and well-timed as usual. The stronger gravity throwing everyone, except you, off their game.

That didn’t bode well.

You climb for a second, punching hard on the acceleration to get some height and a clear view of the oncoming and flick on your targeting system. The image glitches, doesn’t hold steady even as you focus. Off by half a fraction.

Shots fire out from both sides, most missing.

“Targeting not working!”

“It’s out!”

“I can’t get a clear shot!” “The read is malfunctioning!”

“Half a click 4/8!” You shout, as you take your shot, hitting two tie fighters head-on.

“Good shot Green 7!” You can hear the joy and relief in Sana’s voice. “Half a click 4/8, you’ll all have to manually adjust!”

You dive, swirling around two fighters before skimming close to the ground, trying to draw their attention away from the cargo ship. You spin, slamming your control harder than you would need to in any other situation as you turn and spike past another fighter, taking out one in the process.

“Wooooo!” Hank yells over the intercom.

You laugh. “Bet you never thought you wished you grew up on Para right?”

“Every day new things surprise me.” He banks left, you right, Petal dives down.

It’s too much of a rush, everything all at once, patterns and shots flying, your ship’s systems screaming as you push the engines a little too hard.

The tie fighters aren’t moving as fast as they normally do, bogged down even more than the x wings by the gravity. They can’t make their normal quick turns and it’s affecting their strike patterns.

Good.

But there’s so, so many of them.

Explosions fly debris out, and you climb higher. Needing a clear view and unable to rely on your targeting systems.

More shots fly out, The Harbringer is taking a battering but so far its shielding is holding the hull together.

The radio keeps screaming, overlapping voices that blur into background noise. You’re trained to only hear your call signal, direct messages. You vear off, narrowingly missing a blast to your wing.

“-On my tail.” Frizz’s voice cuts through the noise, a sharp stab of dread slicing you open as you turn, automatically looking to the reader, it’s still not clear.

You climb, twist, fall, see a Green ship, followed tightly by two fighters. Accelsorate, bank. You fire. You’re aiming in a panic now, not adjusting right, not breathing through.

The shot hits one, before you have to swerve to avoid being struck head-on.

“Thanks 7!” Cril yells over the speaker, managing to shake the other fighter.

There’s a scream, a crackle of sound over the system. A sound you know too well. You see the ship crash into the desert, exploding before it even hits the ground as the a tie fighter’s shots hit home.

Frizz.

“No…”

“Check!” Sana yells, unable to tell who went down with the system glitching. “Green Leader!”

You swerve around another fighter, everything moving so fast, too fast.

“Green Two check!” Cril.

“Green Three check!” Petal.

Nothing.

“Green Four!” Sana yells. No call replies. Balna. Not Frizz.

The momentary rush of relief at Frizz being alive is cut horribly short by the image of Balna’s kind face that bursts behind your eyes.

You bank left, right, swerve, take aim, twist.

There’s a chance, a good chance that you’ll win. All of Blue is in place, The Harbringer is moving up with them. The tie fighters are taking more hits than the resistance, their less aerodynamic design hampering them more than usual with this gravity.

All you need is…

Another alarm.

“Oh… fuck.” You slam on your intercom. “Z-Fighter!”

A chorus of yells answer you.

A Z-fighter, a quick moving ship a fraction bigger than The Harbringer, with two powerful front guns. A few shots would take the cargo ship out completely.

And with how slow the supply ship was moving, that wouldn’t be hard.

The Z-fighter storms in, moving fast but not firing, they were obviously having problems with their targeting too, needing a close clear shot.

“Take out the main cannons!” Sana yells, the panic in her voice cutting through the chaos. You turn, aim, take out a tie fighter but have to veer up at the last second. Twist.

Someone comes in after you, aiming for the cannons, a fighter clips their side and they can’t correct quick enough. They spiral off, their ship crashing into the Z-fighter. Obliterated on impact. The Z-fighter seemingly unaffected.

You loop back, adrenaline blinding you to everything, anything that’s not the goal. Take out the canons. Take out the canons. People are counting on you. Take out the canons.

You fire, a clear shot before you bank to the side to avoid a direct hit to your hull.

It’s not enough.

You need to pass again, and again. Other x wings flying in, taking shots, the gravity making them slow, imprecise. Only one blast hits and it’s not full on.You’re the only one hitting directly and it’s not enough.

It’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s not enough.

There’s shouting and screaming, the zipping of the fighters as they cut through the sky. Someone yells your name and you don’t hear it.

Another hit lands. One canon out. Only one left. You can do this. The Harbringer is nearly in the upper atmosphere, they can jump from there. Just a few more seconds. You can do this.

“Black Leader!” Poe’s call sign cuts over the dim, followed by the call signs of half of the Red Squadron.

They must have scrambled after first contact.

The canon’s powering up, a quick glance to your panel tells you that The Harbringer’s shield is barely functioning. They won’t survive a direct hit. With how close they are and the Blue Squadron ships that are attached there’s no way they wouldn’t be pulled down too if The Harbringer fell.

The canon needs more than one hit to take it down, more than five. No way you can shoot five times before they fire.

You twist, full force. Pumping the acceleration. Fire. Fire. Fire. Three hit. You don’t slow down. Fire. Fire. Fire. They hit. The canon is still operational.

Sana is screaming orders, so many shots fire at the canon, none of them hit right, hit full on.

Two chances left.

One to fire. If it takes out the canon you just have enough time to serve up, to avoid getting smashed to bits.

Poe shouts for you over the intercom.

You don’t answer.

One to fire. If it doesn’t take out the canon then… then you crashing into it head on will.

Poe yells again, this time cutting over everyone else, sending you a direct call.

You don’t answer.

You fire. Hit.

Poe screams for you, his voice painful and panicked. He’s already worked out your plan before you had even thought of it.

The canon doesn’t go down.

You cut the call to him. Blocking out his signal. You don’t want Poe to think you did this for him.

You don’t want him to think you did this because of him.

“Green Seven!” Sana yells, seemingly knowing what you’re going to do.

Hank screams your name over the radio. It hurts. You think it’s the worst sound you’ve ever heard.

“Moonbeam!” Poe’s voice is ripped raw from yells, Sana has patched him through over her signal. You were wrong. That was the worst sound you’ve ever heard.

You dip at the last second, not hitting the canon straight on but smashing your right wing into it. The force surprises you, even though you braced for it. The impact sending you spiralling. You try to regain control, try to turn into the spin. Training taking over even though you're a wing and half a ship down.

Shouts over the radio, you barely make out-

“-cannon’s down-”

“-Jump!-”

A spark hits, your console explodes into flame, shards hit your side and you yell. Sky and sand tumbling over each other over and over, and you manage to hit the eject button.

The force rips you upwards, free briefly from your burning ship. But you’re too close to the floor, not enough time to slow down your velocity. There’s-

The impact of the ground hurts. Pain explodes along every nerve despite the ejection seat dampening. You scream.

Agony is everywhere, everything. You can’t feel anything else, can’t comprehend anything except floods of pain.

You hit your belt, falling out and to the desert floor. Looking up just enough to gauge where you are, where your ship fell. It’s an exploded, fireball mess far off. At least it’s not an immediate threat. You crawl to the side and sob.

There’s blood falling into the sand from your head, the right side of your face. You can’t see properly out of your eye and your left leg is definitely broken. Shattered. Still, you drag yourself forward, digging your hands in and pulling as something ribs and tears in your side, warm liquid soaking into your fight suit.

The resistance will jump to hyperspace, they’ll get out. They’ll make it.

You just needed to get away from your ejection seat, when the First Order doubles back they’ll see it, they’ll see you. You just needed to get to an outcrop. Hide.

Make it look like you had a weapon.

Make them shoot you first instead of taking you for questioning.

Can’t let them take you alive.

There's the faint sound of a ship somewhere above, landing gear coming down.

For a second you freeze, panic gripping your heart, you dig into the sand hard, pull, pull, pull yourself closer towards the outcrop of rocks. The air seems to be leaving your lungs, your breathing ragged and hot.

You cough, red hitting the dirt, iron hitting your tongue.

You crawl, pull. The pain is making you light-headed. You gasp, trying to get in a full lung full of air. It's not enough. It's not enough. It's not enou…

When you open your eyes your first thoughts are simple. Clear.

I'm dead.

You were either shot in the head in the sand or simply succumbed to your wounds.

But then things begin to feel… fuzzy. Not painful, but not right either.

And that's when you smell the Bacta. And then the light starts to change to distorted shapes, and finally, you recognise Hank sitting next to you.

“You better not be dead too,” you whisper your voice dry from lack of use.

Hank jumps up, goes to grab your hand and then stops himself. There are tears in his eyes. He softly places his fingers on yours and you squeeze back.

“You're a fucking idiot you know that?” He grins and you laugh. Which hurts a little, but feels good.

“One sec,” he moves away just to speak to someone outside before he comes back. “I'm the one that picked you up, you know?”

“Now who's the fucking idiot?” You smile but your chest aches, heavy with the weight of his words. “You shouldn't have done that.” You whisper.

“What?”

“You were under fire, you should have just jumped-”

“I saw you eject. Saw you moving. You think I was just gonna leave you there?” He sits. “Besides, I was closest. The commander would have blown up the whole planet to get to you.”

You swallow, turning away slightly. Going cold at the mention of Poe.

Hank mistakes the look for guilt, and squeezes your hand again. “Hey, look,” he smiles, “you took out the canons, you're a fucking idiot but you know how to fly in heavy gravity.”

You snort.

He smiles.

“Who did we lose?”

Hank sighs, “three…”

You nod, closing your eyes for a moment.

“There-”

There was shouting from outside, a crash and then Poe stormed into the room, med staff close behind him.

You swallow, sickness building in your throat.

He looked awful, drawn out and worn thin like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. His eyes red.

He rushes forward, Hank moves out of the way, so Poe can take your hand in his. He leans forward and kisses you softly, carefully stroking your cheek, being gentle with your bandages.

“Moonbeam…” he mutters and you flinch back from him. He looks at you with sad, confused eyes.

“Look, I can only allow one visitor in here.” The med staff member says.

Hank stands, and speaks when you frown. “I'll see you later, Poe’s the one that hasn't left your side. The only reason he wasn't here when you woke was because I made him go take a shower.” Hank smiled, “you can thank me for that later.”

Both you and Poe are quiet as the others leave. Poe searching your face for something, while you look away.

“Moonbeam,” he says again softly, but there's an edge to his words that you're not used to. “What the fuck happened on that mission? What the fuck is this?” He holds up his hand, his necklace and ring wrapped around his palm. His eyes are shiny as he speaks. “Were you trying to kill yourself? What the fu-”

“Poe,” you breathe. Best to get it over quickly. “I saw.”

He frowns. “Saw? Saw what?”

“You and Sana, in the briefing room… before take off.”

The small frown on his forehead relaxes slightly for a moment as his eyebrows raise. “You… saw?”

You nod.

“You, but, I didn’t see you when I pushed her away?” His voice cracks at the end, a splinter running into the muscle of your heart.

“You pushed her away?”

“You didn’t see that?” He frowns again, blinking hard, “you just, just saw and walked away and what? Took this off?” He holds up the necklace again. A tear falls from his eye and he rubs it away furiously as if it had scorched his skin. “Just, just left it and… and…”

“I didn’t know you didn’t want it…” You say quietly, emotion is making your chest tight and constricted. “I didn’t know you didn’t want her…”

“What?” He breathes, moving closer and squeezing your hand. There’s disbelief in his voice, confusion. Anger, it’s deep down and controlled but it’s there. “No, look, she kissed me. I pushed her away, I, I even logged a report, I’ll pull up the god damned camera feed to show you.”

He’s not lying. His gaze is unwavering and he’s got that painfully earnest look in his eyes.

“You thought…” he shakes his head slightly, his voice pained, “you thought I’d-”

“You both make sense together.” You blurt out. “She’s… and you’re…” you shrug and sigh, on the verge of tears yourself. “You’re both the best of us.”

“No,” he shakes his head fiercely, “Moonbeam, no.” He wipes roughly at his eyes again, glancing down for a moment and you lightly touch his head.

He looks up instantly as you stroke his curls, still lightly damp.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

Poe shakes his head again, grabbing your hand and kissing your wrist. “I’m sorry.” He kicks off his shoes and clambers into bed next to you a little awkwardly. He’s trying to be careful, trying not to hurt you but needing closeness so badly it’s suffocating.

You scooch to the side as quickly as you can in your current state and lean into him as he wraps his body around you softly and kisses you sweetly.

“Love you, love you, love you,” he repeats after every kiss, pressing his lips to every part of your skin that he can reach.

“Why are you sorry?” You mutter as he holds you, “I’m the one that messed up.”

He shakes his head, “I’m sorry that I don’t make you realise how special you are, how perfect.” He kisses your cheek, “you’re the best of us Moonbeam.”

You tut but his grip tightens and he holds you tight.

“And one hell of a pilot.” He grins.

You scoff.

“You are.” He kisses you again.

You nuzzle against him, settling into his touch. Knots have formed in your chest, pain that’s loosening. His warmth is comforting. Home.

“Sana said she didn’t know I was in a relationship,” he says softly, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I don’t know if that’s true, but… I do believe her.”

You nod. “She’s a good person.”

He moves so he can look you in the eyes. “Please, Moonbeam, I… don’t,” he bites his tongue, closing his eyes for a long second. “I want to tell you, I want to say, don’t ever do something like that again… don’t… don’t put yourself at risk.”

You touch his cheek lightly.

“But it’s not fair is it?” He smiles sadly. “We both do that every day… You know you were gonna be in my squadron at first?”

You shake your head in surprise and he nods.

“You were, but… well,” he blushes ever so slightly. “I was so embarrassingly head over heels in love with you,” he laughs lightly. “For months I could hardly talk to you, you know I had to down five Polanis Red’s in a row after Hurthwen just so I could ask you out? I knew I wouldn’t be able to function right if you were in my squad. I knew that I’d put everyone else at risk because if it came down to it… if there was a choice between everyone in the squad dying, everyone on the base, or you… I’d let the resistance burn instead of lose you. Every single time.”

You close your eyes, fighting the emotion that needs to break through and squeeze his hand like a lifeline. “I love you.” You whisper.

Your fingertips brush against the necklace, the ring hooking around the first knuckle of your index finger by chance.

Poe slowly moves his hand from yours and unwinds the necklace from his palm before carefully placing it over your head, giving you plenty of time to move away if you wanted.

“I love you Moonbeam,” he mutters, his voice low, reverent. Then leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back with all your heart.

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial @lonelyisamyw-0love @melodygatesauthor @steven-grants-world @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @queerponcho

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#poe dameron #star wars sequels #poe dameron x reader #x reader #poe dameron x you #x you #poe dameron x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #poe dameron x gn!reader #x gn!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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hobie-enthusiast · 1 year

Text

BLOOMING HAIR !

— 'Imagine Hobie taking a nap and then he wakes up and while he's just walking around the spider headquarters everyone's just staring at him and snickering/giggling. Then when he looks in the mirror to see his hair filled with pink flowers making it completely different from hid aesthetic and its clearly readers fault? Like they whistle and cat calls him when they see him and their work on his hair.'

— hobie brown x gn!reader

— fluff, some cute teasing, relationship banter, soft hobie cuz we love him

— hobie’s nap on top of you definitely came with a small price

— ANON WHAT A CUTE IDEA OMG def was so fun to write :) also looking for reqs!!

Hobie's eyes finally flutter open, a quiet yawn escaping his lips. His eyes adjust to see you sitting above him, soft smile gracing your lips.

He had decided to find a secluded room at headquarters with you so he could get some much-needed rest. Poor thing had been out on a mission, and of course you practically begged him to get some rest.

That's how he found himself situated with his head resting on your lap. Your fingers were messing with his wicks, slow and careful movements helping him into a state of relaxation.

You also may have done something else, but that was for him to discover on his own.

"Morning, sleepyhead." You say quietly, letting Hobie adjust to being awake.

He muses in turn, hands finding yours to hold. "Mornin'"

You swear, his sleepy voice is something to swoon over in itself. His raspy morning voice was always just so attractive. And not many got to hear that. Lucky you, you get to hear the deep voice quite often.

"Sleep well?"

Hobie hums, rubbing his eyes before sitting up. He moves to hug you tightly, his normal stoic demeanor not entirely in tact. Instead, it was replaced with a different Hobie. This Hobie was more clingy than the other one, so of course you couldn't complain.

He yawns once more, head in your shoulder. "Gotta get out there soon."

“Poor you.” You say as you reach your hand to rub the back on his head. “Come over tonight, yeah? Then you can get more than an hour power nap.”

Hobie nods sleepily, letting out one last yawn before standing. He ruffles your hair with a soft smile. He’s grateful for how attentive you are to him. It’s one of the reasons he cares so deeply about you.

“I’ll see ya ‘n a li’tle, sweetheart.”

You smile and wave, a small laugh escaping your lips once he was out of earshot.

Of course you didn’t mention the adorable flowers you decorated his hair with. They fit so well into each wick to the scalp, you really couldn’t resist. They mismatched Hobie’s clothing and demeanor entirely. That’s what made it so great.

He’ll find out soon enough.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Hobie stuffed his hands into his vest pockets as he strolled through headquarters, head held high. His guitar was strung across his back and he wore his usual careless demeanor. He looked like he normally did.

Minus the pink flowers decorating his hair.

At first, he didn’t notice how everyone was looking at him oddly, or the smirks and giggles from other spider-people. He only noticed when he waved at Pavitr, who in turn waved then giggled himself.

“Somethin’ funny?”

Pavitr just shrugged as he walked away. Hobie just shook it off, chalking it up to his friend being himself. He always had something to laugh at, even if it wasn’t funny.

Walking further into headquarters, he noticed the funny looks and giggles he was getting. This truly wasn't normal, nobody normally dared to laugh at him like this. So what spiked their interest now?

Hobie made it to Miguel's area, seeing Gwen up ahead. "Aye Gwendy." He greeted.

"Hobie, hey!" She said excitedly, turning to her friend. Then a stifled laugh escaped her lips. "Well that's new."

Gwen already knew who the culprit of Hobie's colourful hair was. You had a habit of incorporating new aesthetics and colours into Hobie's everyday looks. It was charming in its own way, she thought.

Before Hobie could question her words, Miguel descended from his platform to give them assignments for the coming days. His back was turned to them as he started speaking.

"Hobie. Gwen. I need the two of you to take care of some dimensional anomalies these next few days." He continues speaking about the assignment before turning around, and groan and sigh escaping his throat. "Hobie. Really?"

Hobie raises an eyebrow. "Wha'? Somethin' wrong?"

"Your hair."

He narrows his eyes as he walks towards a shiny object off on the desk. He picks it up and holds it up to his hair, noticing a very distinct colour difference in his hair.

Pink?

He looks closer, noticing how small flowers were woven into his wicks, beautifully decorating his hair. Hobie sighed, yet couldn't stop a small smile from crossing his lips for a moment. He already knew you were guilty, you had a dopey grin when he woke up from his nap. You definitely found this amusing.

He turns back to Miguel. "Good stuff, right? Looks good to me."

Miguel rolls his eyes, waving off Hobie's comment as he finishes debriefing the two on the next couple of days. Once he was finished talking, Hobie thought about going back to the secluded room. But you were probably long gone by that point.

He couldn't bring himself to try to take the flowers out himself. They were pretty tightly in there, and he.. kind of enjoys them. Not the colour, by any means. But just the fact that they came from you was enough for him to sport them proudly for all other Spider-people to see.

He didn't admit that to you later that night.

"My my, who's this handsome fella?" You say with that same dopey smile. "Pink is so your colour, Hobes. Makes you look handsome as hell."

Hobie sighed as he flopped onto your bed, eyes narrowing amusingly. "Miguel wasn' amused. Got a couple of laughs, ya know."

"They were admiring my handiwork." You respond with a shrug, hands resuming their place in Hobie's hair. "Want me to take them out, darling?"

Hobie sat there for a moment, quiet. His eyes shut as he felt the way your nimble fingers worked on his head. It's like you were magic; always making him blissfully tired when you touch him like this. It was so addicting.

He could lie like this forever.

"Nah. 'eave 'em in a lit'le longer."

You smile as you laugh quietly, admiring the way Hobie relaxes underneath your touch. You're grateful he enjoyed his little surprise somewhat, even if he was laughed at by some others. The way he was okay with wearing them all day was enough to make your heart full.

“Whatever you say.” You whisper as Hobie’s mind lets him rest, falling into a peaceful and deep sleep.

You would definitely be doing that more often. New colours next time, for certain.

#NEW ARTICLE || OUT NOW !!#hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #spiderman #hobie spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #atsv #atsv x reader #atsv hobie

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satoruwiki · 5 months

Note

Naoya nsfw and sfw relationship headcanons pleeeaasse . He's a terribly guilty pleasure and not many people write him (probably because he's a toxic sh*t)

omg anon you’re so right bc who would want an absolute toxic misogynistic fuck of a man (me, i do/j) i was supposed to post this yesterday but i forgor, sorry! btw i may or may not be working a second version of the atrocious fic i did a few days ago abt him… if its of anybody’s interest…

͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏ ♡₊˚ Naoya is the type of man to…𓈒 ˚ ⟡

content: jjk headcanons; half sfw/half nsfw; afab!reader; glimpse of the horrors you’d be going through as his partner lol

n/a: i’m making more content for naoya than my glorious blue eyed king lmao ;-;

these are my hcs! feel free to agree or disagree :b any request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3

sfw ver! ୨ৎ

Naoya is the type of man to… spoil you rotten. Not because you deserve it—maybe you do—but because one of Naoya’s biggest weaknesses is his pride and reputation, and yours affects his. He can’t have his gf/fiancée/wife wearing low-quality or average clothing, you have to look worthy of him (at least on the outside). So he will gift you kimonos made with the finest fabric and the finest accessories to pair with. If you’re smart enough, you might be able to take advantage of that and manipulate him to buy you whatever you want, but you better be kissing the soil he walks on afterwards.

Naoya is the type of man to… be overprotective and ridiculously jealous. You won’t be able to go out by yourself. Not without him being there or at least one of his servants, what if another man tries to have a conversation with you? What if you flirt back? He doesn’t trust you or anyone but himself. He has to make sure you aren’t fooling around. Besides, you’re so weak—or at least that’s what he thinks—you need someone to protect you. What if someone disrespects you? He can’t let that slide, the only one allowed to treat you poorly is him.

Naoya is the type of man to… secretly like your praises. He won’t tell you, of course, but he does like having someone recognizing his strength—the main reason he’s so protective of you, trying to look like a knight in shining armour—and how great he is on his day-to-day basis. He will be pissed whenever you get mad at him and don’t praise him. He won’t say it directly nor apologize for whatever he did, but you might find an ‘apology’ gift on your side of the bed. If it’s a mistake you did—which to him is always going to be your fault—an easy way to get him to be in a better mood is stroking his ego with lots of praise.

Naoya is the type of man to… expect you to be the perfect wife. Naoya is a very demanding man, he expects nothing but perfection. He expects you to always look pretty, cook, and clean, like your typical traditional wife. Being a conservative man, he will expect you to not speak when gathering with the other clansmen—or outside in general—unless you’re allowed to. It’s for your good, he’d hate for you to embarrass yourself.

Naoya is the type of man to… only marry you for benefits. In matters of love, he is quite unfeeling, however, to maintain his position as the head of the Hei, he must get married and have offspring. This burden, as he would call it, is likely to be done through an arranged marriage. Just because you were chosen over the other bachelorettes doesn't necessarily mean you're at the same level as him—you will always be below him, and perhaps unworthy of him to his eyes—but you're definitely better than the rest, or at least you were the prettiest one. You might be of use to him.

nsfw ver! ୨ৎ

Naoya is the type of man to… degrade the hell out of you. Naoya’s degradation IS NOT for the weak. If he already treats you relatively poorly daily, it gets worse when he fucks you. He’s also going to fuck you rough, so don’t even try to ask him to go slower, he won’t comply. Don’t worry though, he might make sure that you cum (even to the point of overstimulating you) as it boosts up his ego, it makes him think he’s so good he can have his partner squirting for him and begging for more—this is only when he's in a good mood though, otherwise, he couldn't care less if you cum or not.

Naoya is the type of man to… head push you on purpose for you to gag on his dick. He likes the messy and filthy look on your tear streaked face and drool running down your chin, it makes him want to shoot his load on you (which he will).

Naoya is the type of man to… slap you, during or outside sex. Naoya is very ill-tempered, he’s prone to get physical and slap you (just look at how he used to bully maki and mai) or have angry sex with you. Whether it was your fault or someone else’s, he’ll blow off some steam fucking you stupid, and expect you to have bruises frequently.

Naoya is the type of man to… punish you while fucking. Like I said before, Naoya is very prone to angry sex and will punish you as he fucks you. Expect lots of choking, spitting, clit and face slapping and probably your ass bruised as well as your scalp, he wont take in consideration of his strength and yank it hard.

Naoya is the type of man to… use you as his cum dumpster. He doesn’t care if you’re in the mood or not, that’s what you’re there for, basically. He just got back from a meeting with the clansmen and he’s stressed? Get on your knees and suck him off. He's mad? Bend over or spread your legs. You better not object or make any sort of complaint, just take it like a good girl. Chances are that you end up pregnant (because he’s the type to forbid you from using birth control), he hopes it's a boy or he’s gonna blame it on you. (even if he’s the one responsible for the baby’s gender but ok)

Naoya is the type of man to… have a feet kink. I literally have no explanation for this one, just look at his face and tell me he does not have a thing for feet 😭

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen #jjk headcanons #jjk smut #jjk naoya #headcanon #jjk hcs #naoya x you #zenin naoya #naoya x reader #naoya zenin #naoya smut #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk zenin

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madschiavelique · 11 months

Note

hi can we get some fluff drabble with girl reader + miguel where he finds himself unexpectedly enjoying being a small spoon but rather die than accept it. if you want you can turn it into a soft smut where he is a whimpering mess because she jerks him off from behind while massaging his chest and leaving small kisses across his neck and back

THIS IS ADORABLE ANON AAAAA

i loved writing this (i might relate a bit too much to miguel in some paragraphs of this fvdsbjsqdhfds)

summary : miguel enjoys being a little spoon (not proofread)

content warnings : fluff at the beginning that turns into SMUT (18+) minors dni, handjob, praise, miguel is so horny for your touch omg, no use of y/n, fem!reader word count : 1,6k

tag list : @fandom-ash

As on many evenings, Miguel had come home late. His professional commitments meant that your life and his could sometimes be out of sync. He was exhausted, and gently laid down on the bed without waking you, lying beside you and kissing your forehead.

He laid down against you, acting like the big spoon as he drew you closer to him in his embrace. Coming back to his flats every evening and finding you there, in bed, all peaceful, was the ray of sunshine that caressed his heart after his day. He closed his eyes, surrendering against you as he drifted off to sleep.

It was only a few hours later that he woke up, his eyes had opened on their own and he had no idea why. Perhaps he was having insomnia? That would be the crowning glory of his exhausting day. Even in his sleep, didn't he deserve a little respite?

Then he wondered if perhaps this awakening was due to his Spidersenses being alerted by something. And that's when he felt it, that pressure against his back, the sensation of something around his waist.

You were pressed against his bare back, your steady, even breath landing tenderly on the back of his neck as your hand rested on his stomach, close to his navel.

He was almost tense, completely alienated by this kind of intimacy, but he was slowly trying to relax, to simply enjoy the feel of your body pressed against his.

He was used to being the one who was the big spoon, the one who protected, who formed a shell of his whole body to protect those he loved. He'd already lost so much, so he couldn't afford to lose you, and that translated into many actions, which of course included being the big spoon.

And the back is a sign of vulnerability. Showing someone your back was proof that you trusted them enough to let them have free rein without fearing that you'd be stabbed in the back.

But he felt so... good, he felt safe, like this, in your gentle arms. In fact, he felt that he could be vulnerable, and that little feeling that he could never admit aloud was starting to grow stronger and stronger in his veins:

It felt like he was taken care of, and he liked it.

Why was it so hard for him to admit that he liked, no, wanted to be taken care of? He was always the one who took care of others, not the other way round, but he couldn't help sighing softly. He was comforted by the touch of your skin against his, by your unconscious embrace of him.

You shifted gently in your sleep, your hand accidentally touching a little lower than his navel, on his groin, just a few centimetres away. His breath became a little shakier, the sensation making him quiver and boil at the same time.

You breathed in deep suddenly, as all sleepy people do from time to time, and what he felt gave him the impression of melting: as you breathed out, he felt your breasts pressing against his back.

Now it was going to be difficult to keep his composure. Every breath you took let him feel your breasts on his back, even if they were covered. He swallowed, trying to concentrate on not...

But it was too late, he was starting to feel himself getting hard, his erection rising little by little.

He mentally insulted himself as your hand, with every breath you took, constantly brushed against his skin. Shit, he was getting way too horny. Your breath on his neck, the feel of your body against his, his hand so close and yet so far away.

He let out a little moan as your head moved close to the back of his neck. He had to do something, move perhaps, get out of the embrace, but he didn't want to move away from this sweetness that was being given to him.

He moved a little, just to get your hand away from him and save him from further torment.

"Babe?" your slightly sleepy voice froze him in place, "are you all right?"

Damn, with all his emotions he'd woken you up.

"Nothing's wrong nena, go back to sleep," he whispered, his breath coming in fairly ragged gasps all the same, trying to relax and breathe normally.

You moved slightly, raising yourself gently and accidentally letting your hand rest a little more against his skin, the sudden change from brushing against his lower belly to touching it immediately drew a groan from his throat.

You frowned, waking up a little more.

"Are you sure you're okay ? You seem all so tense..." you asked as you straightened your face until your lips brushed his jaw.

His breath trembled, his back arching.

"Mhm, everything's alright," he said, trying to contain himself even though the urge was growing, "go back to-"

"Miguel," you asked simply, your tone astonished, "are you... hard?"

He bit his lip, his nose wrinkling as he tried to concentrate. But all the sensations you were giving him were preventing him from staying still. He felt almost guilty that he couldn't contain himself, that he was simply being aroused by the mere gesture of you hugging him from the back.

"It's okay," he swallowed, softly, "go back to sleep, it's fine."

He didn't want to disturb you, and he felt guilty that just by you spooning him you'd managed to turn him on.

"You had wet dreams?" you murmured softly, starting to feel more and more awake and aware of the situation.

If only that was all it was, but no, it was completely and utterly you. Your simple touch, your breath, your body, everything.

He hesitated, was admitting that the reason he was horny had simply been the fact that he was the little spoon? Or was he going to make up a trifle? He couldn't even admit to himself that he was immensely affected by your embrace, without it even becoming erotic.

You gently kissed the corner of his jaw, pressing yourself against him.

"What is it," you said, your breath catching on his cheek as he sighed, "hmm?

Your hand drifted down to his erection at last, caressing him with your fingertips, his back arching as he let out a sigh of relief.

"You're so hard..." you remarked softly, whispering against his ear as you placed little pecks on the back of his neck, "I wonder what got you so turned on..."

If only you knew... Your fingers skimmed the length of it, letting the fingertips run down to his balls, caressing them gently. Miguel breathed in deeply, his lips parted.

Your fingers wrapped around him, snaking around his head, letting your thumb make circular movements as the little drops of pre-cum glistened on his tip.

"Would you look at that, so horny..." you mumbled as your other hand slid down his back, tracing the line of his spine as you kissed his shoulder blades.

He let himself be touched, the sensation of your hand slowly and softly pumping his cock as you let your lips and fingers travel up and down his back felt so good it was like he was dreaming.

The warmth of your body, your voice, your presence alone and everything you brought him completed his sensations until they took him to paradise.

You were taking care of him, and he loved it.

He swallowed, the moans multiplying in his voice as you kissed his back.

Your hand took on a slightly faster rhythm, putting slightly more pressure into your stroking when coming back up his head, spending more time just underneath his crown tracing sinuous patterns, his voice trembling as you twisted your wrist while jerking him off.

"Does that feel good?" you asked, kissing his ear, nipping lightly at his lobe as a dark growl rose from his throat.

All those kisses, all those touches, he wouldn't last long.

"Mhm," he nodded, his voice quavering, "increíble, nena."

His hips began to move of their own accord, one of his hands coming to rest on your hip to pull you closer to him. He wanted to eliminate any space that separated his back from your torso, intoxicated by the physical sensations, the exceptional feeling he had in his lower back.

Your kisses were tender, your words sweet, your hand taking him perfectly and touching him wonderfully in all the right places. He felt himself melting under your touch, the friction you were giving him so perfect that he could already feel himself coming.

"So good, muñeca," he breathed, his hips accelerating, his pelvis undulating to fuck your hand, "so good..."

His breath quickened, and with a loud groan, he came, spurting over your hand. His hips jerked as you gently slowed the pace, tenderly caressing his hard skin as you kissed his neck, murmuring tender words.

He turned to lie on his back, watching you. He came over to kiss you, almost as a thank you, but mainly because you'd just given him such wonderful sensations.

You brought your hand to your lips, licking them gently.

"I wonder what made you so hard," you said in a murmur, coming back to place your head on his torso.

You had eventually understood the reason for his arousal and globally his delight, and from then on, as soon as you were both in bed, you would take him in your arms like a good little spoon against you. Because he had shown you how vulnerable he was, and because he too had the right to know that there was someone there who cared about him and would protect him at all costs.

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moondirti · 2 years

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Idk if you have answered an ask like this already but please feed me some possessive/ jealous Ghost hc or whatever bc that man is 10 times sexier while jealous and possessive.

Pls just imagine jealous sex with this man omg…

he would not know how to handle himself i'm pretty sure. sorry to sabotage your thirst anon, i just love me a repressed man :) anyway, this is for the same mc in cigarettes out the window (reader with the call sign 'scout') but it can be read entirely separate! so, without further ado here's some jealous ghost

He's colossal, a force composed of pure brawn and unfathomable depths. Talk of Ghost illustrates him as a norse warrior to end all, the nightmare fuel of enemies who can't help but pale at a skull face. Wholly a reputation founded on that tactical precision; charcoal eyes, half-lidded to contain the ire that bubbles like magma. It's all physical. You'd just assumed that strength extended to his emotional conviction as well.

But he gets quiet sometimes, eerily so. The type where he embodies his name and dissipates like shadow on you. You don't see him for days.

It definitely depends on the stage of your relationship. Catch him jealous before the six month mark and he'd choose to abandon ship. It's that instinctive fight or flight, the choice to back down and reassess before he loses another one of his men. But you're not the enemy; your hands are soft and supple when they cradle his face, never seeking to add to his scars. You're gentle when you tell him that it's him, always will be; no one can ever compare to the behemoth you'd surrendered your heart to.

It takes a lot of time to get Simon to the point where he allows himself to be possessive. The first time, it goes something like this:

Some bar in France, cleared out for their obligatory drink post-mission. Johnny had held him up, pulling him off to the side to start on a tangent about his makeshift bomb that ended up saving their lives. His eyes stay fixed on you, edging to his peripheral where you're caught up in a rather funny conversation with Gaz.

You muffle your snicker behind a shaking hand. Simons' own squeeze into fists.

While your relationship with the Lieutenant has yet to be defined, the men of the 141 recognise the silent claim that curls over your shoulders. It was written in your sleepy sigh, dewy skin gleaming with contentment, that night they'd woke at a safe house to find you three inches closer to his mattress. It was the first of many, many hints.

Garrick isn't flirting with you, not by a long shot.

But he is making you laugh. Perhaps harder than Simon ever has.

He can't really describe what overcomes him. It's a rib-shattering heartbeat, working overtime to supply his vision with brimming red. A deeply vulnerable pit bottoming out in his gut; that fear, still there, that you're only temporary. He only acts on the former so he won't face the latter.

He leaves Soap with no more than a clap on the back. The sergeant takes it for what it is, a promise to continue later.

"Price wants you on reports."

"Does he?" You shoot him an incredulous expression, shifting back and forth from his blank stare and the captain, who huddles near Laswell over a game of gin rummy.

"Affirmative." The response comes out faster than he'd like it to, clipped with full-bodied aggression.

"Right..." Licking your lip, you take a moment to match your scrutiny to his. Simon thinks he sees it, the glint your pupils take when you finally catch on. It combats the spite that courses through him, pooling down to fill the weight between his legs. Clever girl - you know him, probably better than he knows himself. "And I'm assuming you need to consult me on something regarding that?"

"Yes." It's all the indication you need.

"Well." You look to Garrick. "I'm sorry to cut this short, mate. Remember to tell me about Serbia some other time."

And Simon doesn't miss the odd look the sergeant gives you, lips curled downwards in an acknowledging humour. He doesn’t like that he’s comfortable enough to give that much.

But you follow him, smaller footsteps matching his as he finds a secluded hallway near the bathroom. It’s a good thing, he – rather, his internal monologue that sounds too much like your voice – echoes.

"Gonna bring up what's wrong, or will I have to force it out of ya. Hm?"

"Didn' appreciate the way he was lookin' at you, pet."

Your breath hitches, clumped lashes fluttering as you take him in anew. If this were anything else, Simon would credit your grin to a cruel sadism. As it stands, though, he lets it guide the flow of his plastered heart. He's on the right track.

"And how was he looking at me, Si?"

The growl that leaves him is untamed, the feral rip release of a hand grenade. A large hand clamps over your jaw, pressing inwards so your lips pucker out at him. The other pushes your torso to the wall, skimming past the hem of your shirt.

It's new. It's thrilling. It's a wildfire turned eternal damnation, fuelled by a fatal sin that forever trumps envy. Lust, bubbling poison to his insecurity - practical headway into something he's good at. Words were never his forte, but he can fuck you like no one else can, thrusting deeper between your velvet walls than thought possible. It's always been enough to spur breathless awe.

Enough, enough.

"Like he could ever amount to me."

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