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#that probably weren't your intention
mister-eames · 11 months
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I see your Arthur singing Frank Sinatra and I RAISE you drunk!arthur singing Mariah Carey’s Loverboy (the firecracker version btw) at karaoke. Dream a little bigger, darlings and give that boy THE RANGE. Drunk!arthur doesn’t just sing, btw; he PERFORMS. & maybe eames has only worked with arthur a couple of times at this point so it’s like whiplash. Super serious pointman by day, karaoke king by night. He would be CHARMED.
Ooooh. So... a man like Arthur--for all intents and purposes, an 'uptight', all stitched in, no nonsense kind of man--has to have some kind of outlet, right, has to have some kind of side to him that goes to bed, undresses, relaxes, switches off, as we all do --a head to his tails, of sorts. I personally like to think Arthur is far from prim and proper (hey asshole, 'cause that worked so good, he's gonna help us break in...). I think, indulgently, despite how he presents himself at work, Arthur is.... very not neat and tidy, internally. Arthur is a red wine day-drinking, moodily salad-eating, elbows on the table (it's canon don't come for me) shit-at-life kinda mess outside of work. And I love however that manifests in our interpretations.
Let's say he sings.
I feel like drunk!Arthur definitely has a repertoire. Arthur knows the lyrics of his three-thousand-strong song playlist. Arthur had the first iPod nanos (and still does) and maxed them. Loverboy, L-O-V-E, American Pie, sung when he thinks he has no audience, tipsy, erring on drunk after more tequila than he remembers, maybe at karaoke, maybe just packing his suitcase for a job, sat on the floor cross-legged, rolling his socks into neurotic little mismatched bundles.
Eames stumbling across any of these, though. Like seeing the man behind the curtain, in a way, suddenly struck by this weird effervescence in his chest, a strange tickle under his sternum he initially mistakes for his own awkwardness, not realising some part of him was being dug out and reshuffled, making room for someone else. And then maybe filing that feeling away. Maybe letting it simmer. I don't know. I think Eames would feel some kind of way, moved unwittingly by Arthur's "messiness", Arthur outside of his own self made paradigm? *chefs kiss*.
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aro-throughyourchest · 11 months
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Common fandom belief that c!wilbur was trying to "save" c!tommy from c!dream during inconsolable differences not only out of an urge to protect (and we'll get to c!wilbur's savior complex) but out of guilt for not being there to stop it.
Do you think fundy had something to do with that?
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picnokinesis · 1 year
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I will give you fourty cookies in exchange for the four characters and their motivations/goals
Funnily enough, it will be focusing on the four main characters focused on in the episode, and it will follow similar themes to the ones explored in the episode.
I appreciate that you're interested in the story, and probably just want to show that you're excited about it (which, again, I appreciate!), but it's actually quite pressurising to have jumping in my inbox asking for snippets and more information about the next part. It'll come when it comes, my friend. You will find out about the motivations and characters and all that when I post it. It is being written. Chill.
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osaemu · 7 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ FINDERS KEEPERS, LOSERS WEEPERS! ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: the user "gojoslittleslut" tries to make a move on your boyfriend, but she doesn't stand a chance
contents: fem!reader. it's not too serious, nobody gets angry/jealous (except the comments lol). if u haven't already read the other streamer!gojo works u probably should so u understand the dynamic between satoru and his commenters !
author's note: reader is actually a mature person who doesn't pick fights with random ppl on the internet and i think we should all be more like her ꨄ︎
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satoru leans back in his chair, idly chatting with people who pop up in his comments after he finishes his last round of the co-op game. his viewers are eager to chat, and some even shoot money satoru's way to draw his attention. whenever someone donates money, he gives them a quick shoutout and has a small back-and-forth with them, and he does that for everyone.
that is, until a user with a questionable username donates to his stream.
gojoslittleslut has donated $100.00!
gojoslittleslut: notice me pls
"shit, a hundred dollars?" satoru says, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise. "thanks, gojoslittl— oh, fuck, what is that?"
you look up from your laptop and see the way your boyfriend's cheeks have gone bright red. satoru laughs a bit nervously, so you get up and walk over, making sure to stay out of sight of the camera. you sit on satoru's desk beside his computer and peer at his screen curiously.
gojoslittleslut: im ur number one fan~
satoru's eyes flicker to yours for a second before he looks back at his monitor. "ah, well, thanks for the donation!" he replies, completely ignoring the user's advances.
suguru-geto: he has a gf ...
gojoslittleslut: yeah
gojoslittleslut: me
you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle, scrunching up your nose at satoru to let him know that you really weren't taking it too seriously. after all, it's just some random person on the internet—they don't stand a chance with your boyfriend. 
satoru reaches over and takes your hand, twining his fingers with yours off-camera. he ignores the sudden burst of comments that litter the corner of his screen, instead watching you intently. in response, you roll your eyes playfully and blow him a kiss, snickering when satoru pretends to faint.
eventually, he turns back to his screen, cerulean eyes doing a quick once-over of his new comments.
toji-fushiguro: ill take his gf any day
inumaki: we know gtfo
gojoslittleslut: toji i get gojo and u take his girl. deal?
toji-fushiguro: bet
"alright guys, settle down," satoru huffs, rolling his eyes. "for the record, i still have a girlfriend and i don't plan on changing that anytime soon," he clarifies, addressing the current feud going on in his comments. 
satoru's a good streamer—he does his best to keep things cordial and lighthearted with his audience, but he also knows his limits. one of his limits involves people trying to separate you and him, his one true pairing (of course satoru's otp is his own relationship).
your boyfriend leans closer to the screen and scowls good-naturedly, holding up the hand still wrapped around yours. "this isn't gonna change, so don't even think about it!"
satoru says his goodbyes and then ends the stream, turning to you with a sigh. "how down bad do you have to be to name yourself 'gojo's little slut?'" he grumbles, clicking through his stream analytics and finding the user. he opens gojoslittleslut's profile and studies it for a moment before hovering his mouse over the block button.
he leans back in his chair and tilting his chin up at you. "she just gave me a hundred dollars, so i kinda feel bad about blocking her," satoru muses, tapping his foot on the floor. he looks up at where you still sit on his desk, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. "c'mere," he mumbles, slipping his hands around your waist and hoisting you into his lap with a soft grunt.
satoru rests his chin on your shoulder and nudges his face into your neck, breath tickling your skin. "you know that i'm all yours, right?"
"of course i do," you murmur, settling into his arms. he's warm and comfortable, like always. satoru smiles warmly and kisses the side of your face, letting his lips linger.
"good. 'cause no fan account's ever gonna change that."
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chuluoyi · 3 months
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✎ stupid liar
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- gojo satoru x reader
no way. impossible. you couldn't possibly be jealous of gravure idol gojo likes so much now... or could you?
genre: jealous!reader vs slightly jealous!gojo, crack, and obviously, fluff !!
note: based on this post :))
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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"Look, Suguru~ Isn't she pretty?"
Your eye twitched at the sing-song voice, lips twisting into a scowl as you glanced at him from the corner of your twitching eye.
No. You don't care. Not in the slightest.
You stabbed your fork into your cheesecake with more fervor than necessary though.
"Eh?"
"Inoue Waka!" Satoru exclaimed with an enthusiasm that felt almost too bright. "This is her in her newest issue!"
‘Newest issue’ being a bikini special, with the said model lay sprawled in the most revealing piece possible. That indecent photo had also become the wallpaper and lockscreen on your boyfriend's phone, and he shamelessly showed it off with pride.
You steeled yourself. Again. No. It's not a big deal. You weren't jealous, especially not over some... heavily-altered picture of a porn actress!
"Ahh, she does look nice..."
You attacked your now-mutilated cheesecake again, feeling your mood plummet further after hearing Suguru's response. Now you were convinced, all men are dogs!
"—but not exactly my type," he added quickly, his gaze darting towards you. His interest lay more in your reaction, which was why he stirred the pot further: "Is she your type, Satoru?"
Your boyfriend, whether oblivious or intentional, erupted into giddy laughter like a kid. "Ehh... why of course!"
His enthusiastic agreement seemed to echo louder in your ears than it probably should have. The cheesecake, once a treat, now felt like lead in your mouth.
That's it. One more time and—
But then, Suguru's voice cut through your irritated thoughts again, clearly amused. "Well, but I've always thought real beauty lies not just in appearances but in strength of character. Wouldn't you agree, Satoru?"
You knew it, Suguru was indeed the best. You dared to glance up from your plate, curious about your cocky little clown’s response. But you really shouldn't, because Satoru, the absolute cretin he was—
"Why are you getting philosophical all of sudden?" he sullenly grumbled. "Important thing is if she's hot, then she is hot." You could have sworn he briefly side-eyed you before saying, "And no one is hotter than Inoue Waka."
Stupid. Idiot. Insufferable.
Standing up, your patience dissipated into thin air. Your brisk pace made Shoko, who was beside Suguru, to quirk an eyebrow. "Oh, leaving already?"
"I'm going back. Have a practice."
"Ehh? You didn't say?" only now did your shameless boyfriend turned to you fully. "It's still break time—"
"Nanami is waiting for me, goodbye."
You didn't look back even once, too annoyed to notice that Satoru was gawking at your words.
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Satoru couldn't believe this. You ignored him. You actually did… in favor of Nanami!
He was starring daggers at how the two of you conversing so amiably across the hall. You were his girlfriend already, but he could barely able to make you look as sweet as you were with Nanami just now. You were always prickly with him!
Okay, but rest assured—with Suguru he may have doubts, but with Nanami, he was convinced he outshone him by a wide margin, perhaps even ten or twenty times over!
"Why are you sparring with him?" he was sulking when he caught you on the way back to the dorms after school. "Why not Haibara instead?"
You scoffed. "And why do you idolize Inoue Waka and not Yuzuki Tina?"
Oh, so that's what this is about. Suddenly, he didn't feel as miffed as a stupid grin split his face. "Ooh, you're looking into gravure idols too?"
"..."
"Heh, if you're doing it for research purpose, that's totally okay~"
"..."
"Pfft, you're so jealous it's so great to watch—"
You halted abruptly, your annoyance now at its peak. Facing your infuriating boyfriend, you leveled a piercing glare at him that caught him off-guard. "Gojo, from today onwards, we're having a ban."
"Whoa, hey—"
"—and in the meantime, you can print Inoue Waka out of your phone, hang her in your dorm and kiss your wall instead—"
"Just a minute!" Satoru interjected, eyes rounded with slight alarm. "Don't be too hasty!"
He looked at you, really looked at you, and saw that you were actually upset.
A twinge of... what is it? Some kind of guilt, he supposed, pricked his chest. He didn't like seeing you like this, especially knowing he had played a part in it. You should be smiling sweetly and catching his heart with it, not frowning like this.
"Hey," he started, his voice softening as a small, sincere smile crept onto his face. You continued to look away, a stubborn pout fixed on your lips. Darn it, how did you manage to look cute while angry too?
"Look at me, I'm all yours, okay?"
That got you to shoot him a sharp glance, and boohoo!—the ice in your heart thawed slightly as you met his smile, which soon evolved into a toothy grin.
But then, in one swift strike, he pulled his phone out and took a snap of your very-not-ready face.
"Satoru!" you screamed in panic, trying to climb over him to pluck his phone. "No! Delete that!"
"Ah ah," he crisply snickers, raising his hand with the phone high above where you couldn't reach. After pressing a few buttons, he triumphantly showed you his phone screen, now displaying your flop picture in all of its glory.
"That's seriously awful!" you grimaced, a look of horror in your face. "Satoru, for real—"
“You’re adorable,” he countered almost immediately, his smile wide and unabashed—the very winning smile that won your heart. “My girl is cute as heck and you know what the best part is? She’s mine.”
. . .
—okay, you were now positively melting. This was irritating, how can you forgive him this easily?
You huffed, raising your chin high to cover the very sizzling heat in your cheeks. "Hmph. Keep that photo then. But I'm still sparring with Nanami though."
"Mm-hmm, whatever. I hope his foul hairstyle won't affect you—"
"Don't badmouth him! Wait, don't tell me... you feel threatened by him?"
"Wha? Why would I!? I have the better face, better wallet—!"
Together, you walked back to the dorms, the evening air somehow felt lighter around you. Satoru's hand found yours along the way, and the two of you kept up a playful banter, followed by shared giggles afterwards.
. . .
What you didn't realize, however, was that there was another reason behind Satoru's happy laughter... his secret little mission had been a smashing success~
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Epilogue
“I put too much faith in Y/N. I’m disappointed.”
“We are paying Gojo, damn it.”
Suguru and Shoko let out collective sighs, looking at the two of you. They witnessed your little outburst and that sealed everything.
You used to not give in to so easily. Unfortunately now, you were whipped for that idiot too, enough to get jealous over him.
As Suguru opened his wallet, a realization struck. “Shoko, now that I think about it… why am I always losing these bets?”
“You could just suck… or maybe," she glances him over before letting out a snort. "Your bangs just bring bad luck?”
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obsessivevoidkitten · 6 months
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Wrongful Imprisonment
Male Alpha Yandere Prisoner x Omega Male Reader CW: Noncon, imprisonment, prison setting, knotting, mating cycles, a/b/o, rut/heat, knotting, size difference, ass eaten like it's groceries, general yandere behavior Word Count: 2k (Sorry this took so long.)
You never thought you would find yourself in prison. But there you were. Locked away in a minimum security facility.
You were innocent. When your home was raided you had no idea there were drugs there. Your boyfriend at the time had put all the blame on you to escape punishment.
What's worse was that you were an omega sentenced to a mixed facility full of alphas. Since male omegas were so rare no one bothered to make separate facilities for them.
They forcefully drugged away your heats to the best of their ability but the meds had side effects on your mood and gave you dizzy spells. And they weren't perfect. Even without a heat a faint scent of omega peaked through. During heats it was a bit more pronounced.
To some of the alphas who had been there for years it was enough to get their interest. And they were not men whose interest you wanted.
It was terrifying. The cells had no doors so you were in constant fear that you'd wake up with a rapist over you.
The guards were no help. You did your best to avoid all of the alphas of ill intent for as long as you could manage it, but one time you were cornered.
They had followed you in from the yard and crept up behind you. You flailed, scratched, and bit but they didn't take your struggles well and beat you until you stopped fighting.
You could hear them snickering as one slammed his knee into your gut before giving you two brutal punches to the face. You doubled over in pain, your nose bloody and tears cascading down your swollen face.
"Just be a good cock sleeve and stay still"
You felt your pants being yanked down to your knees.
"Look at how tight it's pussy is!"
You prepared for the worst, unable to eek out any pleas over your ragged sobs of hurt and fear.
But the worst never happened. Instead you heard growling followed by hisses and cries of pain.
Your pants were pulled up and you were helped onto your shaky feet.
In front of you stood a sweaty mountain of a man. He was about your age. Tan skin and red hair. All muscle. Probably spent every free moment lifting weights.
Which wasn't really true. Lately he also spent a lot of time watching you from a distance. Trying to get to know the one who's scent called to him so strongly despite the suppressants.
"Th-tha-th-" You tried to mutter a thanks, but your assault and near rate had sent you into a full panic attack.
"Shhh, don't try to talk. It's okay."
His green eyes stared into yours as he inspected your facial injuries. Nothing was broken.
He gently led you back to his doorless cell. The cells had a lot of traffic. You were a bit nervous but you were more scared to be alone and if he had wanted to hurt you he could have.
At least, that's what you had thought. Though you were completely unaware of how badly he wanted to bend you over and fill your body full of his seed. Unlike the brutes from before though he at least wanted you to moan and cling to him while he did it.
He introduced himself and you managed to return the courtesy once your sobs had lessened.
His name was Lance.
And over the months you spent in prison the two of you had become very close.
He kept you within his sight at all times and made sure you were safe. The two of you even managed to have it arranged where you could share the same cell so he could protect you at night and prevent you from getting a bad roommate.
Lance also rubbed all your clothes every morning on him so they had his scent to keep you safe.
The alpha even had the idea to give you a claiming bite just to make sure no one would try anything.
You allowed him to do so, you didn't think it meant anything. In fact, he had reassured you that it hadn't. It was just another measure to protect you.
Of course that wasn't how the alpha saw it at all. Even though he hadn't bed you he considered you his mate. And really, if anything, the fact you were so naïve about it only proved that he was taking the correct course of action.
You were too trusting and soft. That's how you had ended up there in the first place. That's why those vermin tried to get their unworthy hands on you.
You were his mate. Even if you didn't know it yet. You needed him.
And he needed you too. Your scent and personality drove him to keep you safe. So kind. A perfect mate for him. You were the only light in his otherwise miserable existence. To say that you were as essential as oxygen to him would be an understatement.
And after he saved you from those lesser alphas his instincts screamed that he owned you. He had won you in a physical contest.
The alpha just had to calm himself down and be patient. He would get you gradually. He was confident he was almost there.
Until you got the news that you were being released early because new evidence had come to light.
Lance feigned joy at the news.
"I am glad... a place like this really isn't for a person like you..."
"Yeah! And now I won't have to be such a burden to you anymore either! Thanks for helping me so much Lance, you're a great friend. I'll miss you."
Inwardly Lance wanted to go on a rampage. His mate was being taken away from him! He wouldn't be able to protect you. Someone might try to hurt you and touch you with hands unworthy of your skin.
The mere thought filled him with unbridled anger.
Lance knew what he had to do.
/////////
It had been just a couple months since your release and you were adjusting about as well as could be expected for someone in your situation.
You had been money from a settlement for being falsely imprisoned so finances weren't an issue. But you had no friends on the outside anymore. You had nothing to do.
And the ptsd from over a year of living like an animal was immense.
The hardest thing to adjust to, at least physically, was no longer being on industrial strength suppressants. And the very strong heats that accompanied that change.
It was during one such extreme heat that Lance broke out of prison and was making his way up the hill right towards your secluded home. He could smell you from far off.
He was in rut. He had not seen his omega in months. And he could smell your heat.
The alpha was coming for you... and very soon... he would be cumming in you.
When he came upon your home he noticed the window was open. You were so careless! Just letting your damn heat scent drift out and attract any piece of shit alpha right to your open window!! You were really fucking lucky you had such a dedicated mate like him though. So loyal that he broke through prison to take care of you.
He watched you for a minute through your open window. Poor little omega. Writhing in your empty nest. No alpha scent to soothe you. Your nude form hot and sweaty, jerking your cock and bucking your hips fervently, a puddle of slick staining your blankets. And the smell was insane, practically screaming for someone to slide in you.
But fate had provided you with a strong lover that was going to fuck all your frustrations right away.
As he stepped through your window your eyes snapped to him immediately, his musky smell grabbing your attention. “L-lance? B-but…”
“I got out for you. Now I can help you and we can be together.” His voice was low and raspy. Almost animalistic.
You recoiled in fear of him and fell out of your bed.
Lance was hurt that his precious lover was scared of him, but he understood. Past lovrs had hurt you and other alphas had tried to rape you very violently. But that’s not what he would do. He was going to keep you safe. Take care of your needs.
“You n-need to leave Lance.”
It was so hard to think clearly. Your body was on fire and his smell was so comforting even though you didn’t want his knot in you. He was still an attractive alpha who you had been close to and your body wanted to be closer. And he could smell it.
“No. I need to breed my husband.”
“Lance, y-you’re not my-”
He stood over you and picked you up easily, putting you back into your nest. He knelt beside it so that his head was right by your ass that was hanging off. He positioned your legs on his shoulders and inhaled deeply.
The scent you were giving off was too captivating, especially there, he could no longer even process your words. He tenderly nuzzled his nose beneath your balls, drinking in the scent and kissing each of your nuts gently before focusing his attention on your needy, slick-leaking hole.
He stared at it in awe for a moment, like a dragon appraising his most precious treasure.
Lance slid his tongue right in and began wriggling it to get at every inch he could reach, reveling in the needy sounds you made between your flustered protests. He kissed it and removed his lips, a small string of drool and slick briefly connecting your hole with his lips.
The alpha then flipped you on to your belly and climbed into the nest with you after discarding his pants and underwear, he took off his sweaty shirt and laid it under your head so you could enjoy his scent while he bred you. He put your head down and kept your ass up. You would have protested, but you couldn’t stay in your right mind any longer.
Not after the tongue fucking he had given you, not with his scent so concentrated with your face pressed into it.
You gripped his shirt and pressed it closer to you, trying to inhale the musk as much as you possibly could. His heart leapt at the sight of it all. His little omega was presenting so nicely for him all while drowning so willingly in his smell.
He gripped your hips firmly, but still careful not to hurt you as he sank his cock into you deeply.
Lance gasped as the wet heat engulfed his entire length. You fit over him so well. There was not a fraction of a doubt in his mind, you were made just for him.
You moaned and drooled into the shirt your loving mate had provided as his flesh smacked against yours. Faster and faster he slammed into you with your slutty noises driving him on until his knot swelled and his cum was pumped into you.
The alpha renewed that claiming bite he had given you as the two of you became tied together and while licking your fresh wound he lightly humped into you until you came hard as well. He caged your body with his and held you tightly to him as you both panted and waited for the knot to go down.
As your mind temporarily cleared you were aware that this was not something you wanted.
But it wasn’t something that you could fight either.
After everything you had been through you were still just a prisoner.
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anantaru · 7 months
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EX HUSBAND WRIOTHESLEY
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— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — ex! husband wriothesley headcanons
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, reader is referred to as "wife", a little sad, unprotected syx, hitting it raw, very rough fucking lmao, love sick & feral wriothesley, very messy too
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ex! husband wriothesley who will hesitantly accept your upsetting decision to file for divorce, and to nullify your earnest promise— nonetheless, it's evident that it was crushing him through the very inside, the pain your words caused had invited him to explore the enormity of sorrow. however, do not be fooled because he won't show it to you, meaning his pure and real emotions, instead wriothesley will decide to verbally jester around about the current happening to brighten up an otherwise daunting interaction between two past lovers.
it was to no avail, the agony festering on his facial expressions and there was nothing in his life worth remembering other than you and a concealed shade of his past— yet, the last thing he'd want to happen was to lose you entirely, signifying that if he was to put his foot down and tell you that he doesn't want the divorce to happen, it probably doesn’t mean much after all.
ex! husband wriothesley who will reminisce about past events in front of you, your first kiss or that one particular date where he asked you to marry him, just small, little details about you that only your ex husband knew of— but, he'll do it in a subtle way, sneakily sprinkling it into a conversation in hopes you'd get a dash of sudden yearning as well— the same he did whenever he casted his mind back towards the good, old days.
ex! husband wriothesley who will speak in riddles to you, keep his quick-witted demeanor in order to fool you into thinking that he was doing quite well after the divorce was fulfilled— and his intentions weren't in wanting to make you feel bad, sorrowful or even jealous. no, not at all. in fact, he thought that if he was to hide his raw emotions and genuine feelings in front of you, you wouldn't feel awful about your decision and were able to continue living a normal life, yet without him.
ex! husband wriothesley who promised you that he will take off the ring that symbolized your once passionate marriage— but will behind your back grab a necklace to loop it inside the precious metal, so he could always wear the ring around his neck, secretly hiding it from your eyes to see while holding on to it whenever he found himself in trouble, or saddened.
ex! husband wriothesley who feels helplessly confused still, harshly drawing back for air as he let a brittle thread of a nervous laughter go when you suddenly ask him if he wanted to remain friends with you, which— in truth, he didn't, and the second after you proposed that insane idea to him he thought you must be joking, or that you surely must've lost your mind (which would make the divorce explainable).
it goes without saying that the real reason as to why the duke didn't seek out to befriend you, had nothing to do with the feelings he harbors towards you suddenly dissolving, it's quite the opposite because he was so helplessly in love with you, archons, he was bloody obsessed with you.
certainly, he thought that such friendship between two past lovers would only cause injury to you both in the end, for the main part to you who he cared the utmost about.
aside from the fact that even now, when he notices how you steadily keep your distance from him, at all times, it breaks him from within.
how cold it was when all ex! husband wriothesley sought after was your gentle caress and delicate kisses, he longed for an opportunity to just swiftly hush you with one step, raw and earnest trapping you against his strong arms while pressing his lips on top of yours when— oh, he does it again, he was indulging in fantasy, gradually yielding to an alternative version of you two ending up together.
in the duke's own words, he believed that love should be warm, a sweet addiction, a magic gifted by the universe, so why— just what had went so terribly wrong that he was struggling to understand it? you should just say you do not care for him, tell him you feel nothing so he can walk away, or maybe, regardless he will stay.
ex! husband wriothesley who despite you both being apart now, remains faithful to you, protective and nurturing to your every needs— because it was simple as that— for the duke, you are his shining sun, and will still remain it to his dying day.
to his crushed and painful body, your caressing trace was his only medication, and your smile? it was the light to his broken heart, for that is what he had called a warm love.
ex! husband wriothesley who noticed how the natural warmth surrounding his body had but faded completely as his mind began to gather around great negativities— perhaps he was flawed and that's the reason you left him all along, cursed to feel the deep sadness slither through his veins like a freezing liquid conquering his body as he shuts himself off for a while, until he can recollect himself again that is.
ex! husband wriothesley who had inappropriate thoughts enter his mind whenever he thought about you— here is to note that he utterly disliked the way his brain just so happened to work and how he wasn't able to shake off those strong and vivid fantasies playing in his mind on repeat.
but how can he not dream about his wife? well, ex-wife, which in his memories was pressed under his large figure exposed with your breasts on full display, his hips working constantly to please you just the way he knew you liked it.
because you see, the duke knew your body, in and out, one might even assume he knows it better than you do. and he still has a couple of your panties left in his drawer— in fact, he wanted to return them, please believe him, but he found himself to be quite busy these past weeks that he must've simple forgotten to do so.
ex! husband wriothesley who at some point, cannot live like this anymore and was desperate to see you again. after your marriage had crushed, you weren't visiting the fortress of meropide anymore and as the duke was rarely leaving it himself, it could've been the perfect situation to move on from each other, yet he simply could not do that, not when you were constantly on his mind.
ex! husband wriothesley who will find courage and leave the fortress to visit you at your new place, in fact, the mere sight of the duke exiting the underworld was rarely seen, so the guards figured that it must be of graven importance— as invisible and weightless as your love for him might be for now, in the middle of the night he walks out to find you, taking in a last view at the fortress  before an itching impatience got the better of him. 
he just had to see you, now.
ex! husband wriothesley who will show up at your doorstep and suddenly admit that he cannot do this anymore, that he felt incredibly miserable and heartbroken, confessing his undying love and affection towards you, using words he had once spelled out to you the night you had gotten married.
"night and day, i dream of you," wriothesley yells, as if there had been nothing left to his choice, the sight of your glowering eyes and those soft, frowning lips he just misses to kiss.
"and there is not one corner on this world that you could possibly travel to in order to free me from this torture," he adds forbiddingly.
through dark eyelashes, wriothesley stares at sudden tears welling up in your glassy eyes, a sharp amenity invading your cheeks as he places his palms on top of them in order to brush your warm tears away. "you're mine," he said, the corners of his mouth slightly quirking upwards, his hot breathing lingering around your gasping lips, "and not even a divorce can change that."
ex! husband wriothesley who places a delicate splatter of warm and passionate kisses on top of your lips the moment you pull him by the collar of his shirt, his surprised growl turning into a stifled cry when you wrap your arms around his neck in order to keep him close to you, together stumbling into the coziness of your home as one hand was firmly placed against your back, his mouth eagerly parting as your lips welcome the teasing slide of his tongue lapping across your own.
ex! husband wriothesley who will hiss upon revelling in your soft fingers tracing over his twitching muscles when you undress each other, his disheveled hair accentuated with a fond smile as his hands trail down the sides of your face, leaning his hungry lips against yours again, the lingering, familiar scent of your fragrance penetrating his nostrils turning him needier, on the brink of passing out.
ex! husband wriothesley who loves hearing you only reply in soft and crumbled whimpers of his name slipping past the edges of your tongue as he cannot wait to feel you— fuck, and neither can you wait to feel him again, a clashing pressure on your hot core narrowing the space between your bodies as he lines himself up with you, your nails slithering down his chiseled back as he slides into you abruptly, your neglected cunt instantly welcoming him.
and you squeal out in pleasure as he thrusts into you, the maddening scent of his musky perfume persisting around your shivering frame as wriothesley hooks one leg over his shoulder, the squelching sounds of your wet sex echoing throughout the entire bedroom just signalizing how much you must've missed him as well, his addicting gaze always flickering across the way your body reacted to him.
ex! husband wriothesley who shoves himself further into your soft cunt— and you're just so unbelievably cute and adorable at your desperate attempts to silence those candid whines and mewls of his name. one of his hands was now placed on the headboard for additional support as to not suddenly suffocate you with his large body towering above before he increases the pace on your cunt, setting for a deep and fast rhythm that would surely stay engraved in your walls even after he's done.
ex! husband wriothesley who kisses you like a starved animal as your tears tickle the soft features on his face, your hidden emotions running wild at the sheer passion he unlocked in you, his erection throbbing harder as he groans into your lips, triggering every last one of your nerves in your body and infusing them with persisting vibrations— now, you're gasping at the lack of oxygen in your lungs as his constant thrusts into you drove you deeper into the mattress, if that was even possible, considering the fact that your whole body had been caged in between your bed and wriothesley's frame towering on top.
ex! husband wriothesley who chokes back a desperate growl as he sought out further friction, growing feral, then hissing sharply as his sensitive cockhead reaches into your deepest parts, his shaft all the way sucked in by your used pussy lubricating him so he can ram himself in and out of you harder, slick pooling out of your hole whenever he pulls out only to press back inside with one quick snap.
ex! husband wriothesley who worships your body, making you feel every thick vein as it throbs violently against your walls, your thudding hole making him lose his mind on how you're convulsing while he curls into you— your swollen cunt tensing and releasing, grinding up a little as thick, white cum gathers at the base of his cock, his mesmerizing eyes glued on the creamy spot that was showing him just how much you enjoyed this too.
ex! husband wriothesley who resumes his fast tempo, your teeth rattling with every new impact of his hips bouncing against your flesh blanking your mind into pure paradise— your moving bodies couldn't stop anymore as you're fucking each other well over the limits of your endurance, drool dribbling down the corners of your mouth as wriothesley was fucking your cunt desperately, unhinged and making it a point to rock your hips in and out along a particular angle that you'd always squeeze over the rigid veins prancing on the underside of his shaft.
ex! husband wriothesley who exhales heavily when you tell him that you're close, his hips pressing and digging into your sensitivity once more before lifting you off the mattress, chasing your relief like a wild beast that he so graciously wanted to see unfold— low profanities and fast tumbles of his name falling from your lips as your thighs begin to shake and ache, your throat turning dry— you're done for, and wriothesley just fits so perfectly in you, into every curve, every spongy spot and every bump inside that you're so painfully full, crowded and overflowing of his thick shaft.
you're hiccuping due to the pressure he presses into your sensitivity as you're way beyond your own limits now, at last feeling a twitch and quake as your body pleads to cum, his grueling thrusts aiding you when you violently convulse around his length, a sharp intake of breath breaking every other noise in the room when you cum all over his cock, your orgasm hitting you hard, wriothesley continuing with slow, language thrusts until you've rode out your high.
the duke was being eager to watch it all happen, something primal at the back of his mind manifestikg when the sudden constriction of your fluttering hole made him grunt lowly against your ear, rolling his hips nearly painfully hard between your legs before dragging himself away, cumming inside of your walls and marking you up for good with his warm, sticky cum.
ex! husband wriothesley who watched you being short of breath, and couldn’t resist looking at the mess between your legs, your abused cunt twitching around his girth as your pussy flutters around nothing, your legs were quivering with a combination of your essence and his seed oozing out of your hole, staining the silky bedsheets.
ex! husband wriothesley who'll press himself back into you with one sharp snap, leaving his cock in so you could clench and throb, small thrusts turning sloppy and sticky with his dampened bangs glued on his forehead as he kisses the tip of your nose before embracing your pouty lips again, your mouth partly open as you whine out, your sensitivity spiraling of his cock still being nestled in you, his shaft already hard and thick again, your battered cunt jolting underneath him.
wriothesley smiles, "it is maddening, how much you consume my very being, my love." and speaks through his heart.
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incognit0slut · 8 months
Text
BATTLE SCARS
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Part 2 of kinktober | main masterlist
What started out as innocently counting body scars with your coworker, who you were stuck in the same bed with, ended far from being innocent.
sub!spencer x fem!reader; Face sitting, male and female oral, body worship, cockwarming
words: 6,300 (I couldn’t help it the buildup was fun to write)
a/n: I hope this shows up on your page because apparently this app hates me
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"THERE’S ONLY ONE ROOM LEFT."
Of course, there is, you thought, eyes glancing over to your partner of the day. Spencer was the one you were partnered with when Hotch had sent you to check on the victim's childhood home. He's good at deducing clues, was what your unit chief had said, and although those words were well-intentioned, you couldn't help but feel slightly dejected.
One month of working in the BAU meant that everyone would scrutinize you, even when you knew you were more than capable of doing the job. It wasn't like you were randomly picked for this position. You went through the same process as everyone else did. You were as smart as everyone was but it seemed that your boss still thought you needed a babysitter to do this simple task.
One month of working as the latest addition to the team also meant you didn't know your colleagues that well, which was why you wondered what was going through Spencer's mind in this current predicament. What did he think of the sudden thunderstorm hitting this remote town just as you were about to leave? What did he feel about having to seek shelter because driving in this terrible condition wasn't a choice anymore?
And what ran through his mind when the guy behind the counter, who looked like he didn't even want to be here in the first place, said there was only one room left?
"Are you sure?" Your coworker pressed on, eyes darting across the computer screen sitting on the desk. "Did you check every room? All of them?"
The man in front of him quirked an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm not doing my job right?"
"No, he's not," you cut in. You glanced at Spencer, noticing he was constantly fidgeting on his feet. You might not know him well enough, but you were a profiler, and with the way he kept shifting his weight from one leg to another, you could tell he was uncomfortable with the situation. You wondered what had him so worked up like this. Was it the idea of having to spend the night with a woman? 
Well, he did seem like the type of guy who didn't have his fair share of nights with the opposite sex, but then again, you weren't going to start guessing his personal life. Although you did once see him act all bashful in front of a witness who, you had to admit, was the epitome of sweet and innocent. Her traits were probably on the top list of his preferred type, exactly the opposite of yours.
Huh.
So was it just the idea of spending the night with you that ticked him off?
"It's fine," you said, looking back at—you narrowed your eyes at the name tag clipped on his shirt—Kevin. His name was Kevin. "We'll take it."
Spencer's eyes fell on you. "But—"
"But it's pouring outside and neither of us should be driving in this horrible weather," you added. "End of discussion."
He looked like he was about to retort a reply when a sudden string of light cackled through the night sky, followed by another heavy downpour. He winced as his shoulders slumped, another posture of discomfort but one with a hint of defeat. You saw him reluctantly nod from the corner of your eyes.
"Alright," he finally said. "We'll take it."
Kevin slid a key across the wooden desk. "Room 306."
You thanked him and grabbed onto the key before turning on your heels. The walk to the room was extremely quiet except for the constant sound of the rain pouring outside. Spencer shuffled his feet beside you, and even though you wanted to fill in the silence, the thought of him not wanting to room with you annoyed you more than you wanted to admit.
Were you really that bad? Was the idea of sharing a room with you repulsive for him to act this way?
When you finally reached your shared room, an immediate sense of awkwardness washed over you like an unexpected wave. The room, though not large, was well-furnished and neat. But what caught your attention was the sight that greeted you in the dimly lit space. In the center of the room was a bed—not large enough to be luxurious, yet not small enough to be cozy.
Your eyes met briefly with his and a moment of unease passed between you two. Finally, he broke the silence with a hesitant voice. "I can sleep in the car."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his suggestion. "It's pouring outside."
"Right." He sighed, realizing the impracticality of his proposal. "Well, then I'll, uh, sleep on the floor."
"Reid." Your narrowed eyes fixed on him, your patience wearing thin. "The bed is big enough for the both of us. I don't mind sharing."
He paused, clearly taken aback by your straightforward response. "A-Are you sure?"
"I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't," you replied, showing your back to him. "I'm going to use the bathroom first."
"U-uh, yes. Sure. Of course," he stammered, his voice trailing off as he watched you leave the room.
You retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. As you washed your hands and splashed some cool water on your face, you couldn't help but wonder what had led to his initial hesitance. The storm outside was fierce, and the idea of venturing into it to sleep in the car or on the floor seemed impractical, to say the least. You knew that sharing the bed was the most sensible option, but there was an unspoken tension in the room, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why he had been so reluctant.
Turning off the tap, you took a deep breath. Whatever. He could act all uncomfortable as much as he wanted and you could pretend he wasn't even there. So you decided to shed your jeans, leaving yourself in the oversized button-up shirt that served as your makeshift nightwear.
The shirt fell gracefully to the middle of your thighs, offering a sense of ease you couldn't find in your uncomfortable jeans. With them neatly folded and placed on the bathroom counter, you looked back into the mirror one last time, straightening your wrinkled shirt, and ran a hand through your hair before stepping back into the room.
You found him seated on the edge of the bed, his posture awkward and uncertain. You watched as he shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting toward the single window in the shared space, his eyes narrowing each time a particularly strong gust of wind rattled the pane.
You decided to break the silence. "You know, it's just a little rain. We'll be out of here as soon as the weather clears up tomorrow."
His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a mixture of frustration and something else, something deeper, in his eyes. "It's not about the rain," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation.
So it really was about you.
His gaze then traveled over your exposed skin, and you could see his eyes growing wide, clearly taken aback by your choice of attire. "W- What are you wearing?"
Unable to suppress a chuckle at his sudden shift in demeanor, you decided to play along. "Do you mean what I'm not wearing?"
He blinked, his response caught in his throat, leaving him momentarily speechless. His gaping mouth and wide-eyed expression only fueled your amusement. You shrugged in response, trying to play off his intense gaze, but you felt his eyes linger on your thigh, fixated on the long scar mapping along your skin.
"Reid," you called out, and he looked up at you, his expression wry as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been.
"Y-yes?" he stammered, clearly flustered by being caught in the act.
You pointed toward the bathroom. "You can use it now," you suggested.
His face lit up with realization. "Oh! Right," he exclaimed, his flustered state evident as he stumbled on his way to the bathroom.
The awkwardness seemed to follow him as he disappeared into the other room. After turning off the main lights, you left only the soft glow of the bed lamp, which cast a warm ambiance in the room. The covers provided a sense of security and comfort as you finally settled beneath them.
A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a white shirt he seemed to wear under his button-down shirt. However, unlike you, he still had his pants on, although he did discard his belt.
Seeing him in this stripped-down, casual state was a bizarre sight. You had grown accustomed to his poised and professional demeanor, and the sight of him dressed in ordinary clothes seemed oddly intimate as if you were witnessing a side of him that few others had seen. It was as if you were seeing him naked even when he was still covered in most of his clothes.
He then settled onto the bed with a noticeable awkwardness, causing the mattress to sink down slightly under his weight. He lay far away from you, in a stiff and distant manner, clearly still grappling with the awkwardness of the situation.
"Reid, relax, I'm not going to bite you," you said reassuringly, trying to dispel some of the tension in the room. A small, playful smile danced on your lips. "Unless that's what you want me to do," you added, your voice taking on a teasing note.
A brief moment of silence followed, and it almost seemed as if he was contemplating your playful offer. You felt the tension shift into something else, but before it could further linger, you decided to break the silence with a forced laugh, shaking off the tension. You then rolled over to your side, closing your eyes shut, ignoring the sound of heavy rain hitting the window and the bolt of lightning occasionally flashing through the sky. You just wanted to rest. You just wanted peace. You wanted to sleep.
But sleep didn't want you.
About ten minutes later, you groaned softly and rolled over onto your back. "Reid," you said, breaking the silence.
He hummed in response.
"I can't sleep," you confessed, your voice carrying a hint of restlessness. Turning to face him, you propped yourself up on your elbow. "Tell me something about yourself," you suddenly requested, your curiosity cutting through the awkwardness.
He hesitated for a moment as if considering whether he should respond to you or not, but then he eventually asked, "Anything?" 
"Anything."
"Well, I—uh," he cut off, and with a faint hint of modesty, he began again. "I'm extremely smart."
From all the information he could share, he decided to share that. But it was still something, at least you could get your coworker to talk instead of fidgeting in discomfort. "Yeah? How smart?"
"Well, I have an IQ of 187 and three PhDs."
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's impressive," you responded, but then you let out a scoff. "And extremely conceited. Someone asks you to share a fact about yourself and you decide to brag about your brain."
Your remark earned you a small, amused smile from him. "You told me to share anything."
With a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned in a little closer. "Alright, your turn."
He gulped at your sudden movement but kept his attention on your eyes. "My turn for what?"
You laid on your back again. "Ask me something," you suggested.
There was a moment of hesitation as if he had been contemplating whether to ask the question and then his voice filled the air. "What happened to you?"
"What do you mean?" You asked, your brows furrowed slightly.
"Y-Your scar."
You couldn't resist a teasing tone as you turned your head toward him. "Spencer Reid," you taunted, a playful glint in your eye. "Were you checking me out?"
His response was quick and slightly flustered. "What? No!" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "It was a mere observation," he clarified, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.
Your laughter filled the room, a light, and genuine sound that seemed to dissolve some of the remaining tension in the air. "Alright, alright," you conceded, still amused by the exchange. "Observation duly noted."
Without warning, you kicked off the covers, a spontaneous decision driven by a mix of curiosity and the playful atmosphere that had developed between you. Your actions were unanticipated, even to yourself, but perhaps it was his flustered self that had spurred you on.
As the covers fell to the side, you extended your leg, showing him the white scar dancing along the inner part of your thigh. His eyes widened in surprise, his gaze drawn to your exposed skin. For a moment, there was silence, as if the room held its breath, and then he met your eyes.
"Fell off a cliff from a hiking trip," you explained, your voice softening with the memory. "I was exploring a trail and had a bit of a mishap. It left me with this scar as a souvenir."
His eyes flickered over the scar. "Did it hurt?"
You shrugged. "It did, but I guess I got through it."
Then, to his surprise, you began to unbutton your shirt. His eyes widened in disbelief at your actions. "W-what are you doing?"
You merely grinned in response, your confidence unwavering. You pushed the material of your shirt off your shoulder, revealing another scar, smaller and darker than the one on your thigh. "This is the most painful one," you explained. "A bullet from a handgun."
He examined the scar intently. "What happened?"
"A chase with a suspect a few years ago," you recounted, recalling your life before you joined the BAU. "We cornered the suspect in an abandoned warehouse, it was a tense standoff. He was armed, and in the chaos of the moment, a shot was fired." You gave him a smile. "I was the unlucky one in the way."
Your eyes locked with one another in a moment of shared understanding, and then you asked, "What about you? Any battle scars?"
He paused for a moment, considering your question. He seemed hesitant at first as if debating whether to share, but then he slowly lifted his shirt, revealing a scar on his lower abdomen. "Flying bullet."
He turned slightly, revealing a slight scar on his lower back, the result of a sharp weapon grazing his skin. It was a subtle yet significant mark. "An Unsub armed with a knife." He then laid back on his back again and tapped his right leg. "There's another scar from a bullet on my knee."
You couldn't help but tease him lightly, your tone playful. "Well, aren't you a magnet for disaster?"
His expression softened at your teasing. You stared at each other silently, taking in each other's presence in the close proximity the bed offered. You weren't sure how, or when for the matter, but it seemed the distance you both created grew shorter in the span of time you were talking.
Your gaze drifted over his features, from his brown orbs to his pointed nose, then along his high cheekbones before settling on the small scar underneath his jawline. It was a subtle mark, but it caught your attention, and you couldn't resist reaching out to gently touch it.
"What about this?" you inquired, your finger tracing the scar. "How did you get it?"
His breath seemed to catch at your sudden touch, and he stammered slightly in response, "I-I cut myself with a razor this morning."
You couldn't help but chuckle at his explanation, and your finger continued to graze his skin, skimming along the faded scar in a circular motion. "And how bad did it hurt?" you asked.
"Not so much," he whispered, his breathing starting to become uneven and it was at that moment you realized how compromising of a position you were in. He was on his back, and somehow you managed to press yourself onto him with a leg resting on his, your hips flushed against his side.
Maybe the rain, the rhythmic pattern of the raindrops beating in synchronized with your heart pushed your actions. Or perhaps it was being in the same bed. Whatever it was, the undeniable proximity between you created a charged atmosphere in the room. Every breath felt heavy, and the air seemed to thicken with unspoken tension, drawing you even closer.
You wanted to kiss him. How could you not when he was looking at you with those eyes? It was hard to ignore this sudden pull of attraction, but Spencer seemed like the type of guy who rarely made the first move. Maybe you needed to initiate it first.
"You know..." you began, your eyes trailing across his tiny scar. "I was thinking of kissing it better?" Your words hung in the air, and you felt him stiffen beside you. "If it was painful, that is."
A charged silence enveloped the room after your suggestive offer. Your heart raced, taking a leap at the first step in crossing the line. He could either play along or push you away, it was a risk you were willing to take, and you prayed he was into it just as you were.
"A- Actually," he stuttered. "I think I'm starting to feel the pain now."
You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. "Oh, you poor thing." And before he could respond, you bent over and pressed your soft lips against his scar. You felt him momentarily freeze. "Better?"
You thought he was about to back away when he didn't answer, but then his words had you grinning from ear to ear.
"...I'm not sure," he replied, his voice cutting through the silence. "I think it still hurts?"
Your smile grazed his scar again, softly, barely even touching it, before you trailed down his jawline, stopping on the crook of his neck.
"I.." He breathed out, his voice sounding strangled as you felt his grip on your hip. "I-I don't think that's where the scar is."
"I know." You opened your mouth, your tongue slightly tasting his skin. "I'm making a scar of my own."
Your parted lips were hot against his skin, his eyes fluttering close as you softly sucked on the spot below his ear. You always loved receiving neck kisses, but giving them? There was a certain sense of power to be able to make someone shiver under you, and it was what he was doing right now, breath hitching every time you sucked on a different spot.
You cupped his face as you continued to trail your lips along his neck, pressing your body closer to his. You moved your hand lower, fingers grazing his jawline before it rested around his throat, and as you put slight pressure on your hold, you heard him inhale sharply. You paused, not sure you were hearing right, but then you tightened your grip around his neck and a soft, strangled moan escaped his lips.
You smiled.
Spencer Reid, you naughty, kinky boy.
"We can stop if you want," you murmured against his skin because truthfully, you knew you couldn't restrain yourself after this.
"N- no," he sighed. "Don't stop."
It was enough for you to throw your leg over him. You lifted yourself up and straddled his lower half, stifling a moan as you felt the hard pressure between your thighs, and pressed your lips against his. You couldn't stop yourself from kissing him with so much fervor. Your lips collided with his as you pushed your tongue inside his opened mouth—tasting him, exploring him, devouring him. Who would've thought you would enjoy kissing your coworker this much?
You pulled away and studied him. Spencer was a blessing to witness. His eyes were heavy and hooded, his hair was disheveled with some strands stuck to his forehead and his lips were swollen and parted as he breathed slowly through them. His pale complexion bore the marks of a flush and you couldn't stop yourself from pushing away a strand of hair from his face.
"You're so pretty." Those words came out of your mouth without much thought in which you received a breathless sigh in return.
"You're.... you're more pretty."
You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair. "You understand I'm not going to stop now, right?" He faintly nodded. "And do you know what that means?"
He shook his head.
"It means I'm going to fuck you," you taunted, a wicked smile curling on your lips. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to use that smart brain of yours.”
The whine flying out of his mouth was enough for you to lean in closer, your lips extremely close to his but not quite touching. "Can I be rough?" His strangled whimper had you wrapping your hand around his throat again. "Use your words, baby."
"Y-yes," he breathed out. "Please."
"Good."
You pulled your hand back and brought it down sharply on his cheek.  The sound startled you because it sounded harder than it felt, ringing out loud with only the faintest sting on your palm.
Spencer looked genuinely surprised. His head turned with the impact of the slap, jaw falling open.  He blinked himself back into focus and you were about to ask if you were being too much, but then he looked at you in a way he had never looked at you before. The dazed and desperation of his gaze moved right through you, flushing you with heat.
"Such a pretty boy for me," you said, gently rubbing his cheek. You watched him, a curious smile playing at the corners of your lips. In that moment, you felt a peculiar sense of power and intimacy that was unlike any other you had experienced. It was an odd but exhilarating sensation, feeling an almost illicit delight in the power you held over him.
You then slowly straightened yourself. Taking your time, you began to unbutton your shirt as his gaze burned into you. You popped each button open until it left the sight of your black, laced bra on display for his eyes to devour. Your bra showed a hint of skin over the top, bouncing a little as you pulled yourself out of your shirt.
You reached behind your back to unhook your bra before slipping it from your shoulders, allowing your breasts to bounce free. Spencer couldn't help but swipe his tongue across his lips at the sight. Your breasts were on display with hardened, aching nipples to taunt him. You brought them in your palms, playing and squeezing your flesh for a moment just to tease him.
"Do you want to taste me?"
He let out a desperate sigh. "Please."
You placed the palm of your hands on his chest before leaning in, dropping your breasts right in front of his face. It didn't take him long to know what you wanted, and he quickly wrapped your right nipple in his mouth, his tongue hot against your skin.
"Fuck, Spencer," you moaned. You shivered upon the contact. His mouth sucking on your nipple was making your head delirious. Warmth spiraled from your core to the rest of your body as he tasted you, and when you thought you couldn't feel more aroused than you already were, he let go of your swollen nipple just to give his attention to the other one, sucking even harder.
You couldn't handle it anymore. A moment later your fingers ran down his chest, brushing over his stomach to feel him tense beneath your touch until the second you grip the hem of his pants. "Take these off for me."
You had never seen someone move so fast before. The moment you climbed off the bed, he started peeling his clothes from his body piece by piece. He left no article on before throwing his clothes to the floor, eyes raking your body as you stood before him in nothing but your panties. Those were quick to go, however. You pushed them down your hips and flicked the thin fabric past your feet.
A strained groan filled his chest as he looked at you, marveling at your naked form with wonder. Thoughtlessly he wrapped a hand around the base of his hardened cock and your eyes instantly take in the sight. The way he was biting his bottom lip, fingers around his thick, hard length had your mouth watering, but you stopped yourself from giving in.
"Who said you could touch yourself?"
His body tensed. He quickly placed his hands on the bed as you climbed back on the bed, the mattress sinking in from your weight.
“I like to be warmed up a little first," you told him as you settled on top of him again, but this time, you scooted further, putting your knees on either side of his head. Spencer's eyes went wide as he looked up to see you wet and bare, hovering inches away from his face.
"I'm going to sit on your face, and if you can make me come on your tongue..." You started to lower yourself. "I'll give you your reward."
You felt his breath on your center, and the minute his tongue touched you, you let out a moan. He worked his tongue over your clit, swallowing every drop of arousal dripping down his mouth. You gripped the headboard and rocked yourself back and forth while he continued to lap on your pussy without any care for the mess you made. You were wet and sloppy as his tongue moved in and out of you, up and down your folds while also sucking on your swollen clit.
"Oh my god," you moaned, looking down at where you could see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he groaned on your flesh, wrapping his arm around your thighs while never stopping stroking your wetness with his tongue. He held you tight, keeping you in place, and there was nothing else you could do but buck your hips as you ran your hands through his hair and tugged on the strands, receiving a deep, rough yet excited groan from him.
You exhaled his name, not being able to find the words or the breath in you to speak as you felt the familiar coil in your stomach. He flicked his tongue over your clit a few times before gathering up your juices and circling back to the swollen bud, massaging your flesh with the flat of his tongue. You felt the bliss swelling inside your body. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.
"I'm getting close," you warned him, beginning to grind your pussy against his mouth. He groaned against your flesh, sending vibrations through your body in return, and with a few more laps around your clit, you finally reached your high.
You felt the warmth from between your legs surge through your whole body. Your pussy walls tightened as you kept rocking your hips against him, whimpering, moaning, crying out that you were coming. You shivered and trembled above him, tossing your head back, gripping his hair even tighter, and pressing your thighs together around his head.
It took a moment for you to come down from your orgasm, and as you did, his motions slowed down, licking you gently, his hands soothing down your thighs. You finally lift your hips off his face, hovering above him on shaky thighs.
"You did so well," you cooed. You slowly shifted down his body, and when he thought you were about to straddle him again, you surprised him by moving lower.
“Let me give you your reward." You sighed while wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock in a firm grip. "You deserve it."
He felt so hot in your hand, so thick, so big, and utterly beautiful. You slowly moved your hand along his length, stroking him gently as you watched his lips parting open from the pleasure. You continued to stroke him, motions slow and steady, and he eventually closed his eyes, head falling back against the bed. You swiped your thumb across the tip, his eyes shot open as he looked at you.
"Keep your eyes on me."
He carefully propped himself on his elbows to get a better view just as you gripped him tighter while leaning close. The droplet of wetness on the tip looked too nice to be ignored so you leaned in and licked it up, your eyes meeting his gaze, and his jaw slacked open in pure pleasure. A pause settled in the room before you finally took him fully in your mouth, giving him an exploratory suck.
You kept swallowing him down, your jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth, wrapping your hand around what was left. You hollowed your cheeks and greedily inhaled him. His smooth, warm length slid across your tongue and his cock hit the back of your throat.
Without warning his hips jerked up, and you gagged, rearing back off with a cough, eyes watering. "I'm s-sorry," he apologized.
"It's okay, baby, I'm giving you your reward," you whispered before holding his throbbing cock in your grip again. "Hold my hair up for me?"
He did exactly as he was told, gathering your hair in his hands. Your mouth enclosed around him again and you repeated the movement, trailing down his cock with your tongue, hands twisting back and forth, lips sliding back down until you had every inch of him in your mouth.
You glanced up at him, brow-raising mischievously as you moved your head in a rapid motion. He panted out a whine, his chest heaving as he inhaled a lung full of desperately needed air.
"Please..." he whimpered, bucking up ever so slightly. His cheeks burned at the sound of his own desperation. You gazed up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, so pretty and needy. He blinked down at you, your cheeks flushed and lips stretched wide, an utterly obscene sight as you kept swallowing the entire length of him.
And then you felt him starting to shake,  his body trembling while the grip on your hair tightened at every stroke of your tongue. You could tell he was on the brink of exploding, yet you didn't want him to finish inside your mouth, so you pulled away just as quickly as you began.
You could tell he was about to whine a protest, but he immediately stopped himself as you climbed on his lap, gripping his cock in your hand and guiding it towards your aching pussy. But then you stopped, eyes meeting with his, your voice softening. "Should I use a condom?"
"You can..." he mumbled as if it was hard to even articulate any words when his tip was already brushing against your wetness. "You can do whatever you want."
You lingered for a moment, grinding yourself against the tip of him, getting wetter as your arousal dripped out. "I want to feel you."
The whimper he let out was loud, almost pornographic. "I want to feel you too."
Then you began to slide his cock into you, slowly, taking your time to draw the moment out. Your body went tense in an instant, you could hardly handle the way his size was pushing into you.
"Fuck, you're stretching me," you moaned the words, tossing your head back while closing your eyes. The content sigh leaving your lips was loud when his tip finally hit that soft spot. You had never felt this full before and you wanted to soak in the way he was filling you so deep, so you buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent as you sit there with his cock stuffed inside of you.
For you, it felt nice, but for him, it was torture. As warm as you were, as tight as you clenched him, he still needed more. With urgency, he reached for your body before his eager hands landed on your hips, a groan of desperation built in his throat as you stayed there, not moving a muscle. "Can... can you move?"
You kissed a spot below his ear. "Why should I?"
"I-I..."
"Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want." Your tone was soft, but you didn't drop the entirety of your dominance. "Do you want me to ride you? Is that it? You want me to fuck you senseless?"
"Yes," he rasped out as if he had been holding his breath. "Please..." 
You gripped him by the throat. "Say it."
"Pl-please fuck me," he gasped, gulping for air.
You smiled.
"Good boy," you replied. You began moving against his cock, grinding yourself over his lap, feeling him fill you up and hit deep inside you. It was almost too much but you remained focused. Your palms pressed to his shoulders as you pushed yourself up, moving your hips against his body.
He could feel you squeezing him. Every roll of your hips, every flutter of your walls, and every moan that rumbled from your chest. His huge palms wandered over the small planes of your back, caressing every dip and roll of your body. His eyes glazed over to where you were connected, the sight of your pussy clenching around every inch of him lulled him into a bewitching trance.
Soon you found a somewhat steady rhythm, circling your hips and grinding down on him faster, picking up your pace. You felt your heart drumming against your ribcage and the concoction of arousal running down your thigh and dripping onto his legs.
"God, you're going to make me come so quick," you cried, your hand lowering between your thighs to reach your clit. With two fingers, you began to massage your flesh while bouncing down his cock, riding him, feeling the tip so deep within your walls. You let loose, moaning and whimpering. He couldn't help but groan, feeling your walls tighten around him, feeling your juices drip down his groin.
You felt him thrust upward towards you, following your pace, and a second orgasm started building low in your stomach. You felt it everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to the edge of your toes. It thrummed every nerve, vibrating you to the bone. "Fuck, I'm close."
His breath quickened as he felt your walls clenching him, his eyes brushing every inch of your body. You were such a sight to see. He was entranced by the way you were thrusting yourself on his cock, your breasts bouncing from the movement, your taut nipples begging for attention. He couldn't stop himself when he suddenly pulled you in, momentarily surprising you, and sucked onto your nipple hungrily.
You cried out when you felt his teeth softly tugging your nub. You were supposed to be in control, and you still wanted to keep your dominance, but it was hard to when he suddenly planted his feet on the bed and thrust his hips into you at a mind-numbing speed. Harshly. Roughly. Violently.
"Fucking hell, Spencer," you moaned, holding onto his shoulders. "I-I'm gonna—"
His fingers dug harshly into the tender skin of your sides, his hips were bucking up uncontrollably, desperate to reach the blissful relief. His tone became ragged as he groaned what sounded like your name entwined. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that began uncoiling in his entire body. You grabbed onto his unruly hair, tugging it back roughly before smearing open-mouthed kisses all over his throat and collarbones, voicing out your whimpers right into his ear.
That was enough for him—he came undone, allowing his muscles to contract one last time as he spilled into you, filling you completely with warmth with one last thrust. You followed him with a scream, wrenched from your throat so roughly it seared its way out of your lungs and into the air. Your movements became sloppy and uneven, clinging onto him as you chased your own high.
The room smelt of sex. It was your first thought when you finally felt your body relaxing, your mind coming back to its senses. Never, not even once in your life, have you ever considered kissing Spencer willingly.
Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he had the most amazing eyes, and yes, his soft demeanor did attract you the first time you met him, but that was it. He was simply your coworker, one you didn't know that well, one who seemed to make a big deal out of spending the night with you... and ironically, one who had you shaking in pleasure.
You weren't sure what would happen next. At first, you thought your presence ticked him off in the wrong way because you were the new, inexperienced member of the team... but now you couldn't help but speculate the way he acted differently towards you had something to do with what just happened.
Maybe he didn't think of you as a mere colleague... maybe he thought of you as someone potentially more? You could be right, or you could be wrong, and there was only one way to find out. You softly let your fingers brush his cheek.
"You need to take me out on a proper date," you suggested through the silence. Then a smile bloomed on your face when you felt him dip his head in your palm.
The nod he gave you couldn't be anymore faster.
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nanaminokanojo · 2 days
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After constantly meeting with Sukuna for several months, he invites you over to his place following an early dinner and you found out that he has a cat. It was grumpy just like him with black fluffy fur and luminous eyes that seemed to follow your every move with human-like intelligence as if it was judging you. It stayed close to its owner, slinking its body against his leg and later sitting on his lap like nobody's business as if to tell you, "He's mine. Fuck off."
It didn't like you.
At least the cat was clear about its feelings towards you. Its owner, you couldn't be too sure. You don't even know why he invites you out, his intentions as vague as how this whole thing between the two of you started. One day, you met through a common friend who was obviously setting the pair of you up, and when you thought you wouldn't see his face again – a fair assumption after he behaved rather rudely, saying he wasn't interested – he somehow got your number and eventually asked you out.
You chalked that up to him being apologetic after you called your friend out for subjecting you to Sukuna again, the choleric jerk that he is, but then promised on his mom's grave that he only gave your number to Sukuna and that was it. Everything he did was of his own volition, and you were torn about it. Maybe he found you attractive, just that he didn't like the idea of being set up. Maybe he wasn't really absolutely rude and wanted to make it up to you for giving you that impression. Who knows? You weren't that much interested, but you gave him a chance.
Well, he was attractive in an acquired taste kind of way, built impossibly tall and broad, hair in short, wavy tendrils that was the color of rosy dawn, rough around the edges, almost brutal in the way he says and does things. Strangely, you liked looking at him enough to actually spend time with him.
None of your speculations were proven. Ryomen Sukuna wasn't apologetic, not even remotely. He invited you to dinner, didn't put up much of a fight when you insisted to split the bill in half, and he wasn't overly polite either. He spoke in that same uncouth manner without putting up much of any pretense in front of you, not that you were offended. He's a potty mouth, you already knew that, but you'd rather have him speaking his mind in all honesty.
You didn't think he was all that attracted to you. Interested, probably, but that was difficult to decipher, too, at least the manner in which he found you interesting. Your so-called meetings were rather quiet with either of you refusing to say more about yourselves. It was torture for the first three times with your longest sentences to each other being three words long. You would say hello to each other, eat in silence with occasional comments about the food and then he would walk you to your car and bid each other good night. Everything felt forced and it was torture.
But to your surpise, he would invite you out again just when you thought there wouldn't be a repeat to whatever it was that you had going on. Why? You didn't know. Until it became a routine. And then you found yourself spending more time with him, mostly over meals on random days or just convenience store coffee when it's too late in the night to do anything. Both of you were busy after all.
Which brings you to your current situation. In his high-rise apartment that didn't look lived in. On a Saturday night. With his very possessive, very grumpy cat.
But you saw a very different side to Sukuna with his little pet. He didn't smile, he smirked. But with his cat, which he fondly called Ume, he did just that, gently scratching at its belly and talking silly with it. You sat there awkwardly, feeling like you've intruded on something private.
"You can pet her," Sukuna told you, making you go stiff on your spot when he looked at you as if you were an afterthought. He seems to be in a playful mood even prior to the whole cat scenario, smiling more, acting more gentlemanly, not that he wasn't on most times you spent together. It had you confused even if it had been going on for the last several times you've met with him. Or more precisely since that day you started saying more than three words to each other, conversing normally.
"I...don't think I should," you told him, eyes intent on the black fluff on his lap. Ume sat up as if it understood what you were talking about, eyes narrowing into slits from how they've been round and wide from its owner's attention.
Sukuna scooted closer to you, close enough for you to see cerise flecks in his dark irises. "You don't like cats?" He asked that question as if you were a walking red flag if you responded incorrectly according to his standards.
You shook your head. "No, it's not that. Ume doesn't seem to like me."
He looked at his cat then at you, brows furrowing. "Well, that's a problem," he deadpanned.
Was he fucking serious? You didn't want to delve into the intricacies of his statement as he continued to run his fingers through Ume's fur. But to say you were offended was an understatement, and you wanted nothing but to get the hell out of his house. So much for warming up to the idea of progress where your odd relationship was concerned.
Without thinking, you stood up from the couch, trying your best to keep your expressions neutral albeit taking herculean effort. "I think I should go."
Sukuna solemnly nodded, looking down and biting his lower lip, making you frown. He looked contrite, but you did see a ghost of a smile there, or perhaps you just imagined it. "I'll go get my keys."
"I can call a cab," you stated, your petulant mood seeping through your words, but he didn't wanna argue about that and insisted on driving you home. Why you didn't drive separately like you usually did was beyond you. What were you expecting anyway?
The drive had been quiet and you were annoyed that he was grinning, even letting out a chuckle here and there even if you were blatantly ignoring him. You just endured it until you arrived in front of your apartment complex.
But instead of getting out of his car, you just sat there. You glared at him when you saw how he was suppressing a smile as he reached over and undid your seat belt for you.
"What's so funny?" you demanded.
"You are."
Oh, okay. You scoffed. This was definitely the last time you were going out with him. You pursed your lips, trying to keep your frustration at bay. "I guess this is it."
Sukuna arched a brow at you, looking pissed yet oddly more charming that way. You hated that about him. "What?"
You rolled your eyes at him, not having any intention to lose to his temper. "I'm going. Bye –" You managed to open the door, but he reached out and closed it again, trapping you on your seat with his muscular arm.
"I don't think so, sweetheart," he stated, looking amused of all things.
"Sweet— Let me out."
"No."
You shrugged, lacking the energy to argue. "Go back to your cat, Sukuna."
He smirked at you then. "Are you jealous?"
"Offended is more like it."
Silence followed your words as you just watched Sukuna pushing his tongue against his cheek before chuckling again, his deep voice filling the car. "Damn, if I knew it would be this easy to see this side of you, I would have taken you home sooner."
You spun on your seat, shooting him a dirty look. "What?" You were beyond confounded. You wanted to reach out and smack him on the head, anything to release the sudden burst of emotions you didn't even imagine you would feel towards Sukuna in all those times since you've first met, let alone in a span of minutes and a few choice words.
"I don't get why you kept taking me out despite the fact that we couldn't fucking communicate properly with each other —"
"You agreed—"
"—and you think the fact that your cat hates me is a major problem?" you finally exploded. "And you're doing this on purpose, too!"
At that, he burst out laughing.
"It's not funny!"
He sighed, letting up on his mischief as he tried to reach out and touch you, but you slapped his hand away. "Come now. Don't be mad, sweetheart."
"I'm not your sweetheart."
Sukuna took your hand in his, placing it against his cheek. You flinched, feeling his warmth against your palm, but he didn't let you pull it back. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't help teasing you all this time."
"Trust me, you did more than that." You made a face at him.
"It's just so hard to get any reaction from you. You're too damn quiet and I can't get a read on you. I can't even tell if you like being with me or not."
You let up on the barb, your anger fizzling to slight annoyance at the thought that he was puzzling about your intentions towards him as much as you were about his.
Sukuna gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "At least now I can tell you care enough to be offended at the prospect of me rejecting you because my cat dislikes you." He then tucked your hair behind your ear. "I want to see more. See what makes you tick. See more beyond my precious arctic sprite."
You were flustered by his words, the possessive way he addressed you, making you squirm on your seat, but in a good way. "Well, you'll get more ice if your tactic to get to know me better is to piss me off."
Sukuna cupped your face with both hands. "Knowing what you don't like makes it easier for me to know the opposite."
"You're a jerk."
"I know, baby. But you don't dislike me, do you?"
It was your turn to keep a serious face as you looked away from him and said, "That depends on my dog."
He smirked at you. "You have a dog?"
"No."
"So..." He scratched placed his hand at the back of his neck and you understood it as embarrassment from small talk, belated after months of knowing each other. "Do you like cats or dogs?"
"Spiders."
Sukuna looked taken aback but he just nodded. "Cool."
Suddenly, and for the first time in front of him, you started snickering much to his astonishment. You were giving him more than he's asked for in one go, and it was overwhelming him in ways he didn't imagine.
And then you said, "I like cats, too."
Just then, he placed an arm at the back of your seat and leaned towards you. "There's something else I want to know whether you would like or dislike."
You turned your head towards him. "What's that?"
"This." He closed the remaining gap between you, his lips dipping to find yours in a kiss, albeit quick was enough to hot-wire your brain and for blood to rush under your cheeks. "So?"
"I don't –"
Kiss. "How about now?"
You're much to dazed to say anything.
Kiss. This time, he lingered a tad longer, moving to coax your lips to respond, but he pulled away much too quickly, grinning when you moved forward to chase his lips, your hands shooting out to hold him in place, savoring his warmth and the way he felt against you.
Safe to say you liked it. Very much.
A/N: This has been in my drafts for who-knows-how-long and I just found it again.
© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240601]
PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.
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riksaes · 2 months
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enhypen sleeping positions with s/o ₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩
fluff , soft : idol au : clingy bf
rq for any kpop groups 🤍
masterlist
a/n: after the new en'oclock ep of them all sleeping made me giggle and get to work instead of starting my new series 😭 and this was made at 1am and continued at 8am so im so sorry if its poo poo
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heeseung | 희승 the spooner
heeseung is the type to be the bigger spoon in the relationship but sometimes the smaller one for some occasions. he'll definitely have you curled up in-front of him and play with your hair until you drift off. sometimes sings to you softly if you're having a hard time going to sleep or just for comfort. probably snores a bit but the soft snores where its like breathing and not annoying obviously. during the night you guys probably end up in weird positions but still somehow touching each other in some way like; hands holding, legs intertwined, or even just on top of each other at this point. if you guys weren't spooning he'll have a leg possibly out of the covers or up.
"babe stop moving.." heeseung whispered trying to make you stop squirming around while trying to watch whatever you were watching before you guys would sleep. "im uncomfy hee the sheets are literally choking my throat" you barked back while marry my husband intro is playing in the background. "okay okay sorry just calm down and watch this episode alright?" he comforted while playing with bits of your hair in the spooning position. you quickly apologised while regaining your attention to the show which heeseung was also into. feeling his breathe down your bare neck gave you shivers while his jo malone cologne that hadnt washed off could be noticed. he kissed your neck as 'im going to sleep now' which made you quickly turn off your phone and throw it down beside the bed on a pillow. you snuggled back onto him and grab is hands to hug you for comfort which made him smile and dig his face into your messed up hair which smelt of vanilla shampoo.
READ MORE UNDER THE CUT !!
jay | 제이 sweetheart cradle
jay is the type of guy to hug you but HOLD YOUR HAND LIKE INTERTWINE YOUR HAND WITH HIS WHILE YOU SLEEP!!??! i think its more comforting to him because he knows you're there and that you wont leave him. he probably lets you sleep half on his bed and half off but i think most of the time he'll let you sleep fully on top of him but for the sake of this its half / half. i damn right know jay will probably wrap you up like a burrito with blankets so that you dont leave a cold spot for him to wake up to. i think your legs would be intertwined if you both were cold but most of the time its just a head on the chest and arms wrapped around with hands intertwined.
"are you satisfied with how we are positioned love?" jay called out in the middle of the dark with only the city lights shining through through the cracks of the curtains. you nodded and snuggled into his side and took a big deep breath before wrapping your legs with his. he kissed the top of your head while brushing your hair so you could fall asleep first before him. he only did this to know you were sleeping well and not awake staring at the roof. "give me reasons we should complete.... you should be with him, i cant compete" jay softly singed from the song 'slow dancing in the dark' by joji. slightly humming before noticing your out asleep softly breathing with little snores breaking through making him chuckle and closing his eyes to join you.
jake | 심재윤 head on chest
jake is the guy to have an arm behind his head and one around your waist like side hugging you. you on the other hand would be next to him with your head on his chest. he would definitely be caressing your open skin or under your shirt (GOOD INTENTIONS ONLY FLUFF RAHHHH) rubbing your hip with his thumb. sometimes he'll pull you on top of him to get more hugs when he needs them but more of the time you guys are just a head on the chest and thats all. I feel like jake would do a uno reverse and place his head in your boobs and really enjoy it. he'll be in heaven if you play with his hair and be situated in between your boobs.
"babbbyyyyy can i lay on your boobs please :(" jake hovered over your body on the bed pleading for mercy. "no im on my period my boobs are sensitive.. just wait one more day" you answered while looking at him and poking him on the hip, stomach, face. he pouted and looked like someone stole all his legos from him. he settled next to you while pretending to be upset while huffing and sighing a lot so you can get the memo which you did but just silently laughed at. "jake. stop huffing you can lay on them just dont do anything bad" when he heard the first few words he jumped and placed himself on top of you which caused you to wheeze. "thanks baby love you" he smiled while nestling and rubbing your skin causing you to softly find yourself going to sleep which jake did shortly after.
sunghoon | 박성훈 front to front / intertwined
I feel like sunghoon would be so used to having his head under the covers from being in a dorm with ni-ki and his little pranks. he’s the type to just squeeze softly bits of your skin while laying with him in bed. I think during throughout the night sunghoon would just causally move his arm behind your head while you hug him like a koala. both of you are very clingy while sleeping but it makes you both sleep well and have a good night. just like jay and heeseung he’ll probably sing to you so you can sleep. definitely a bit of a tease and annoying you before you sleep but it’s the memories that matter. he’s also the type of guys just to randomly get up in the middle of the night and grab something small to snack on and go back to bed so don’t be surprised if he disappears. you guys are better at sleeping during a move than just laying and staring at the ceiling so that’s why you both said to watch movies during the day.
“sunghoon!! stop tickling me” you laughed loudly and tried to swat away his hands from touching your ticklish spots. he just looks at you loving and smiles and proceeds to tickle the hell out of you. as the tickling continues for another good thirty seconds before stopping and sunghoon laying on his side facing you. softly moving a piece of your hair to the side tucking it behind your ear then proceeding to kiss your forehead. he smiles while hugging you while pecking your neck heaps then moving to your shoulder before finishing. He moves up and lays his head on yours and stroking your hair to make you fall asleep in his arms. “love you hoonie” you said while tangling your fingers with his free hand. he smiles and kiss the top of your head and closing his eyes. “love you too bubs” before drifting off to sleep.
sunoo | 선우 full body on body
sunoo is a guy who would NOT move during his sleep so your the only one moving around heaps. you'll be situated laying on top of him while he has a hand touching your butt (😱🫢) JKKJKJKJKJK he'll just have it resting wherever so it might land there sometimes 😉. you guys would defiently watch ghibli studio before going to sleep or even those tiktok part one to like part 49329 of a reddit story. but i have a feeling you both would just just pass out asleep as soon as you both lay down. you would play with the strands of his poor damaged hair but its okay because its soft either way 😍. theres really nothing else because i generally think you both would just sync sleep ...
"am i the asshole for not giving my baby to my sister?" could be heard off your phone while both of you are silently watching the 5th part of the reddit story. you both left out a gasp everytime something happened but it had finally come to an end which caused you to turn off your phone and snuggle into your boyfriend. you played with the strands of his hair whilst he played with the his shirt that your wearing that was a little too big for you. "sometimes i wonder if i could write up a shit story and get it placed by tiktok and be famous asf" you said out of the blue which made him halt and giggle at your words. "probably could if you wanted" he said while both of you thinking on what you would write about. "oooh i have one, what about 'my sister turned into a furry and tried to kill my kids'" sunoo just started giggling at your title for a reddit story. "well we can talk about this in the morning because i want to sleep >:(" sunoo said before pulling the covers up so it could reach your neck. you both snuggled and fell asleep to dream about eachother wink wonk
jungwon | 정원 body on body / head on shoulder
jungwon would be a sleeper who would just move heaps but you know was great! you both are so waking up would make you both giggle at. sometimes one of you would be off the bed or almost falling off while the other is a starfish. starting the sleep off you would be on top of jungwon while he's hugging you from below. but as the night unfolds its literally everything at once. you guys once mentioned to record from your ceiling to see whos pushing each other off the bed but ends up to be Maeum sleeping in the middle of you both having basically the whole middle of the bed. I also have a feeling that you guys sync sleep so it doesnt matter if one of you were awake later than the other you both are just so used to having each other in bed.
"wonnn make sure theres pillows next to the bed because if one of us fall off the bed we are gonna be in a grump" you stated while sitting on the bed with maeum petting the small petite dog. you laid back while the big bright lights were still on due to jungwon placing the softer pillows on your side while he said the harder ones and one of your teddies that maeum didnt end up half eating. jungwon was finally done and turned off the massive bright lights then settling into bed with both you and maeum. who eventually made his way to the bottom of the bed keeping guard. you laid on top of jungwon while he hugged you like a burrito. "i'll see you on the other side of the bed tomorrow". you stated while snuggling in between his neck and shoulders. "nighty night..!! love you" jungwon stated before falling into a deep sleep.
ni-ki | 니키 body on body / spooning / face to face
ni-ki was a menace and was definitely one before bed as well. he's teasing you but you have bisco to go basically attack ni-ki in the process. but while laying in bed bisco would go off to his little bed on your side of the bed which bisco moved whenever ni-ki placed it in the corner of the room. ni-ki would be the type to have you in different spots but mainly ontop of him so he gets to rub your back and let his hands roam on your back and your hair. sometimes spooning or face to face when you both can't be bothered moving. you guys would definitely send snap videos to the enhypen groupchat of each others 0.5's which you would occasionally get from everyone back. sometimes ni-ki and you would be cheeky and do weverse lives in your bed trying new international foods you would find. normally staff would have to force it off but they gave up and let it only happen every friday night. but either way you guys would sleep as well synced due to all the heavy schedules you have
"bisco go bite his leg" you whispered to the dog who was currently in your arms while you rest against the wall. bisco jumps up and runs to ni-ki to bite his leg and run back to you. ni-ki side eyes the dog before jumping into bed with only the galaxy projector as the only light in the room. while bisco and ni-ki have a side eye comp you brought out one snack which was from Australia which was the tim tam (GUYS AS A FELLOW AUSTRALIAN THESE THINGS ARE THE BOMB) ni-ki started the weverse live which you both enjoyed thirty minutes of trying them while jake was happy that you guys enjoyed them. after the weverse live you both snuggled into each other for warmth as the lights of the city glazed through and the projector up on the ceiling. you both softly fell into a deep slumber while bisco sleep near you instead of ni-ki due to their ongoing beef with each other.
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gremlingottoosilly · 2 months
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König x Bartender!Reader who works at a strip club. He’s tipping reader the big bucks and she’s convinced he’s just trying to get her in one of the private rooms, but that’s definitely not her job.
This guy is definitely trying to get into your pants. Unfortunately for him, your belts are rather secure. He is not slick about his intentions - always looking at you like you're the most beautiful thing in the world, even though you barely dress up for work and your makeup doesn't look all that good in the dim light of the bar. You weren't hired to be an eye candy - although you have to wear more revealing things than what you probably would have liked, you're still as quiet as a mouse, never getting attention away from the girls. They are the true stars of the show - hot, perfect, so pretty you can cut yourself on the sharpness of their eyeliner. You're just...here, kinda. Not ugly enough to make people wince at the sight of you, but also definitely not hot enough to steal the show. Konig doesn't get the memo, though. Oh no, he is way too fucking invested in liking the way your cleavage shows up every time he asks you to reach for whatever bottle is the lowest on the little shelf under the bar table. You tried to change the bottle placement, but it seems like this man doesn't really care as long as it would make you move in a way that makes you really uncomfortable. You hate to admit it, but you almost...almost like the way he looks at you, though. It's nice to have eyes on you for once. It's nice, really. Until it suddenly isn't. Konig is very persistent, you see - he sees what he wants, and he doesn't really care if you have different opinions and desires for your next big break. He looks at the way you look and wants to have you with him, even though there are plenty of beautiful women who want to get with him. Konig doesn't care, only having eyes on you...at least he tips well - at least he is generous enough with money, so you can pretend you really want it. It's only when he forces you to press your back against the wall of the bar and gets his hands fully into your cleavage that you understand that the light flirting you used on him to get more tips was completely overkill. It's only when you saw for real just how desperate he was to get to you, you knew how fucked you were. Oh, but at least he won't allow you to work here anymore. At least he has enough money to make sure you would be only making drinks for him from now on. Aren't you excited?
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fairysluna · 2 months
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Hi! Could I please request another threesome with Cregan, reader and Jace. Maybe they get jealous when they see reader with another men and want to teach her a lesson? Thank you and love your blog!
i get drunk on jealousy.
Modern!AU — After they've ignored you for a week, you were desperate to have their attention back. Flirting with a random guy might not be the best idea.
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MASTERLIST
PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon.
TAGS — polyrelationship/polyamorous, m/m/f, smut (p in v, clit play, handjob, oral sex, creampie, spitting, cum eating, male on male action), jace x cregan, use of alcohol and drugs, kind of drunk sex, dom!cregan, switch!jace, sub!reader, jealousy, cursing. If something is missing let me know!!
AUTHOR'S NOTE — Don't expect so much of this fic, I saw this picture, I saw a vision, and basically my horniness wrote this by itself. Not my best work, but fuck it, this is just for fun. Also, this made me realize that I'm unable to write dom!Jace if Cregan is there too, oops??? I guess??? NO BETA, WE DIE LIKE MEN.
I took this request as an excuse to write this fic so... thank you for sending it and hope you enjoy this!🤍
WORD COUNT — 3.1k
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤenglish is not my first language.
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Most people on Campus knew about your strange relationship with Cregan and Jacaerys. Some guys would often call you a whore behind your back, while some girls would prefer the term ‘lucky bitch’; it was no secret that the both of them were quite known for being handsome and gallant, almost acting like real life prince-charmings. Every girl would drool for them, acknowledging their chivalry and politeness. Of course, they already knew about the attention that they received from the opposite sex, they knew about how many girls would love to be in your position. Which is why they didn't understand why you were so eager to act like a brat.
Jace tapped Cregan's shoulder as he saw you chatting with some random guy that suddenly appeared next to you on the couch. Neither of them had seen him before, he was probably a freshman or someone that sneaked into the party without invitation. Both pairs of eyes were intently staring at you, watching every move you make. They knew you weren't oblivious enough to not see it; he was obviously flirting with you, and you were clearly enjoying every moment of it. Jacaerys, being the most jealous out of the three of you, tightened his grip around his bottle of beer, his fingertips turning white as Cregan turned to look at him.
“Don't do anything stupid,” he warned him. “She'll deal with us later.”
“But look at her!” Jace snapped, his breathing ragged.
“She's doing it to piss us off,” Cregan attempted to calm him down. “She won't do anything with that guy. Just wait until the party's over and we'll take care of it, okay?”
He looked at him, obediently nodding as he took a long sil out of his beer to calm down a bit. Jace forbade himself to turn your way, ignoring your desperate attempt to make them jealous. Cregan, being a lot less hotheaded than Jace, acted nonchalantly toward your attitude, pretending you were doing nothing wrong, even when he wanted to grab your arm and take you right in that couch just to clarify that you belong to them.
Cregan knew your purpose, you both had spoken about it earlier that day after one of your classes together. They both have been ignoring you, neglecting your needs and spending more time alone — without you. At first you didn't mind it, thinking that they were busy with the final exams and their final projects of the semester; however, when you knew they were using all that time to plan this stupid party you got pissed, almost screaming at him in the middle of the campus, frustrated. Now here you were, sitting with a freshman trying to get in your pants, all while they were still ignoring you.
Both guys spent the rest of the night drinking, playing some games with other members of the fraternity and having a blast while you were standing in a corner, alone and bored; your two lovers out of your sight. Perhaps that was why you couldn't see Jace searching for you everytime he could, unable to control the jealousy that had grown within him. He couldn't find you anywhere around, which made his mind overthink about where you were, and with whom. Cregan would try to calm him down, offering him his blunt which Jace would accept in order to relax.
Hours passed, it was 4am when the music stopped and everyone passed out in random parts of the fraternity house. Cregan and Jace were stumbling their way up to their dorm, the effects of the alcohol still lingering in their bodies as they struggled to reach for their room. They both were holding onto each other until they opened the door and saw you standing in front of the mirror, wiping off your make up and getting ready to sleep. They noticed you had moved their beds together, making a bigger one as you usually do whenever you stayed with them.
They entered the room in silence, and while Cregan was closing the door and turning the lock, Jace stood closer to you almost drooling once he saw you were wearing one of his shirts. He wrapped his arms around your waist and hid his face on the crock of your neck, leaving wet kisses all over your skin and completely forgetting about the fact that he was supposed to be ignoring you.
“You're so fucking weak, Jace,” Cregan scolded him, removing his shoes and shirt, getting ready to bed.
You turned to look at the eldest guy, who just ignored your intense gaze.
“You're mad?” you dared to ask.
“We both are, actually,” Jacaerys murmured against your skin.
“And why would you be mad? I should be the angry one!”
“Oh, really?” Cregan finally turned, stepping closer to you. “Why is that?”
“You know why! We talked about this and you decided to keep ignoring me!”
Stark laughed dryly, his gray eyes getting darker as he narrowed them. “Is that why you've been acting like a fucking whore tonight? Trying to get into a freshman's pants to get our attention. Fucking pathetic.” He took a step close enough to grab your jaw and force you to look at him. You tried to squirm away from him, but Jace's arms tightened their grip around your body, and you had no escape. “Jace couldn't even enjoy the fucking party because he thought you were sucking another guy's cock. You think that's fair? To make him feel like shit the entire night because you were just needy of attention?”
“I- I didn't-”
“You broke my heart tonight, sweetheart,” Jace whispered in your ear as his fingers reached the hem of your shirt. “You need to pay for what you've done…”
“I'm- I'm sorry, I never meant to-”
“It seems like you need a lesson,” Cregan interrupted you, tightening his grip on your face and making you whine. “Something to remind you that you belong to us.”
Jacaerys' hand cupping your core with one of his hands, burying his fingers between your folds and covering them with your growing slick. He giggled, “she's not wearing panties…” he informed, smiling up at Cregan who clenched his jaw.
“Get her on her knees,” he commanded, and the youngest obeyed immediately, letting you go from his firm grip.
You fell to your knees, scratching them with the raspy carpet beneath you. Jace removed his shirt as Cregan started to unbutton his pants until they pooled around his ankles along with his underwear. You whimpered once you saw his cock starting to get hard under your haze, your mouth watering as you leaned towards his side.
“Get on the bed,” he pointed at Jace. You tried to stand up and follow the instructions too, yet he stopped you by gripping the front of your head and pulling it back. “Not you,” he sternly said. “Open up.”
Obediently, you did as you were told, opening your mouth and letting him press his tip on your tongue. He gave it a few taps, teasing before ge finally decided to start fucking your mouth. Cregan grabbed the sides of your head to keep you still in your position, and his hips started to snap against your throat without further warning. You found stability when you placed your cold hands on his thighs, grasping onto them so you wouldn't lose balance as he had no mercy with you.
You looked up teary eyed, gagging and gulping loudly as you heard his moans slipping out of his plump lips. The small eye contact suddenly became too much for him, so he leaned his head back as he closed his eyes. “Such a delicious mouth,” he praised you, “taking my cock so fucking well.”
His grip around your head started to hurt a bit, his fingertips burying in you as he fastened his pace. It wasn't hard for you to become a mess; your own drool was falling down the corners of your lips as you cried out, your whines being muffled by him inside your mouth, and your slick already starting to leak out of you. Your arousal only grew once he buried himself completely in your mouth, grabbed the back of your head and forced you to stay there for a few seconds, with his length fully sheathed in your throat. Your nose brushed against his pelvis as the air started to escape from your lungs.
“Come on now, baby,” he murmured with a strained voice, feeling his cock pulsing inside your mouth. “Take it… take it all…”
He chuckled softly as you started to tap on his thigh, and he quickly let you go. You gasped once he pulled out of your mouth, gasping for the air your lungs desperately needed. He moaned softly once he saw you; tears on your face, drool falling down your swollen lips — you looked so pretty he even thought about letting you go unpunished and just please you, but then he turned to see Jace; his cock was achingly hard, his ruddy tip leaking as he desperately fucked his fist; he had been so good to you, and you made him feel so bad throughout the night; he deserved a reward, and you deserved a punishment.
Before you could react, Cregan grabbed your body with ease, lifting you up from the ground and carelessly carrying you towards the bed. You moaned with his touch, so needy of him that even his roughness made you squirm out of pleasure. He moved your body around as if you were a ragdoll, shifting your position in bed until you were sitting on top of Jace's pelvis, his cock right between your legs. For a second you thought it was finally the time for them to fuck you, but you were so wrong.
“Grab her hips,” he commanded, using that mandatory tone that drove you and Jace insane. “Don't let her move.”
He positioned himself between the boy's legs, leaving you more confused than before. “What- what are you-?”
“I'm teaching you a lesson,” he stopped you before you could finish your question. “You'll see what happens when you behave and when you don't.”
You saw him leaning down, his plump lips wrapping the tip of Jace's cock and making him squirm beneath your body. Your mouth dropped as you looked at Cregan taking him entirely, his haze fixed in you as the frustration in your body grew even more. The youngest had his nails buried in the flesh of your hips, you heard him moan so prettily that you could even feel the slick oozing out of you, even when you were untouched. It was such a sinful image to witness, especially when Cregan's eyes became teary once he gagged around Jace.
“Oh, fuck…” you mumbled, tears of despair gathering in your eyes as your breathing became ragged. “P-please touch me…”
Jace's hand attempted to reach for your throbbing clit, but the older grabbed his hand and pushed it away. “I'll stop if you touch her,” he warned him. All you could do was cry out.
Cregan's ragged breathing would reach your folds, causing shivers all over your spine. You would try to move your hips to at least rub yourself against Jace's skin, but he didn't allow it, holding you down so tightly that you were certain it would leave a bruise.
The moans turned into whines as Jace started to quickly feel the orgasm coming. His skin was burning as Cregan fervently sucked on his tip, using his tongue to clean up the precum spilling from his slit. Whenever you would cry out or move on top of him he would feel closer to the edge, his body burning inside. “I'm so fucking close, baby,” he whimpered, “keep sucking my cock, I'm- I'm gonna fucking cum… f-fuuck.”
You saw Cregan hollowing his cheeks, milking Jace dry as he came inside his mouth. Drops of the pearly seed escaped from his lips and you felt the need to lick them both clean. You needed a taste, anything that would make you feel some kind of relief.
He sat back up, and as soon as he laid his hazy eyes on you, he grabbed your neck pulling you closer towards him. As if it was a reflex, you opened your mouth while you stared at him through your glossy eyes. He let his spit fall onto your mouth, to then pull you close and fervently kiss you. The salty taste of Jace's release lingered in your mouths as you devoured each other, you would whine against his lips, still sobbing as your pussy was already aching for the lack of attention.
That's when the boy beneath you wrapped you between his arms, forcing you to lay on top of his chest. He didn't even let you catch a break before you felt his cock slowly making his way inside of you, and you gasped out of relief. He stretched you out, providing you with that sweet sting of pain that drove you insane. His hands grabbed your thighs, folding you in half as he started to thrust upwards.
“Don't ever forget who you belong to,” he grunted against your ear as you struggled to keep it quiet. Probably the whole house knew what you were doing, and maybe that was their purpose all along. “You're fucking ours, baby. This tight pussy belongs to us, do you hear me?”
Cregan's hand fell hard on your throbbing clit as you remained silent. A whine left your lips as Jace kept bullying your gummy, wet walls with his girth.
“Answer him,” he demanded, getting closer to you and placing his leaking cock on top of your swollen pearl. You felt the room spinning.
“Yes! Yes! I'm- fuck… I'm fucking yours,” you sobbed.
The whole situation became overwhelming, while one was burying himself in the deepest part of you, the other was rubbing himself on your sensitive flesh, searching for his own release as he wrapped his hand around your throat.
“Fuck, you're fucking squeezing me so tight, baby,” Jace moaned, breathlessly as he felt the mixture of your slick falling down his sack. The lewd sounds of your folds getting stretched by his thickness almost making him cum again. “So fuckin delicious…”
“We've just started and we already fucked her silly,” Cregan chuckled. “She's a fucking mess for us…”
A layer of sweat covered your body; you felt the blood burning inside your veins, the orgasm approaching you embarrassingly fast as they were stimulating your senses. Your eyes rolled back, the desperate pleads slipping out of your lips as you were begging them to make you cum. You were shaking, your face covered in tears as the moans were ripped out of your throat.
“So loud,” the older teased you, “gonna wake up the whole fucking house…”
“I- I need to… please, I need to cum!”
Cregan leaned towards you, and Jace instinctively fastened his pace, burying himself deeper and harder; you had a hard time thinking straight as the older’s hands tightened around your neck. “Ow, poor girl, wants to cum. I don't think you deserve it.”
“P-please, Cregan…”
“Work for it,” he demanded. “Make Jace cum and then you're free to do it too.”
Almost as if it was an instinct, you started to move your hips up and down Jace's cock, making the thrusts more intense and deeper. The younger moaned loudly, already feeling overstimulated by your movements and feeling his sack heavy with a new load of his release. He thought about how pretty you would look with your legs spreaded and his seed falling from your weeping hole; that image alone almost made him peak right in the spot.
“Jacey, please!” you whined, already growing tired. “Please, please, cum in me!”
“Want me to fill your pretty cunny, baby? Mhm? Want my cum inside of you?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes as your walls clenched with his filthy words.
“Yes… yes, please… give it to me, please…”
As a spectator, Cregan groaned loudly, quickly rubbing his hands around his shaft with his eyes fixed in the way Jace was filling you up, bewitched by that bulge in your belly that grew each time that he would bury himself deep inside of you, touching your sweet spot over and over until your head feel dizzy and all that left your mouth were incoherent mumbling.
“I can't… I can't hold it…” you sobbed.
“Come on, baby, I'm so fucking close, just wait for me,” Jace whimpered, his movements getting more desperate and sloppier.
“I can't! I can't! F-fuck…”
Everything came to a breaking point once your release gushed out of you, spurring all over them and making a complete mess. Neither of them could hold back after such an obscene view in front of them, and they were quick to follow. Jacaerys finally spilled himself in you, his seed painting your walls and filling you to the brim. Lastly, Cregan stained your shirt and flesh with his pearly drops, moaning so beautifully that it made you feel butterflies in your belly.
You hissed when Jace pulled out of you, feeling your legs shake while Cregan struggled to stand up from the bed and looking for something to clean you up while you laid against the younger’s body, who softly wiped the tears out of your face.
“Shh… it's okay, you did so good for us, my love,” he cooes, so gently. “So, so good.”
“I'm- I'm sorry,” you mumbled while Cregan returned to your side with a towel in his hand. With soft brushes he started to clean your thighs, your belly and the raw flesh between your legs. “I- I never meant to make you two feel bad… I was- I was being so selfish-”
“Hey,” Cregan stopped you, holding your face with gentleness; so different from his previous touch. “It's already behind us, okay?”
Once he finished cleaning you up, your body fell into Jace's embrace as he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him and cuddling with you. He hid his face on the crook of your neck and softly hummed when the remains of your sweet perfume reached his nose.
“We love you so much,” he whispered, “please, don't ever do that to us again…”
You grabbed your face only to see his puppy, brown eyes. A gentle, soft kiss was shared as you felt Cregan laying down behind you and fondling your body, soon you three had your limbs tangled as you kissed and caressed each other without shame. Loving touches that relaxed all of you.
“I'm sorry,” you whispered again to the both of them. “I'll never do that again.”
“Do you promise?” Cregan asked.
“I promise,” you softly nodded.
The Northern boy leaned to leave a soft kiss on your cheek, you both shared a gentle smile which let you know that the anger that was once within him was now fully gone.
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GENERAL TAG LIST — @islandfantasydream @arcielee @bucknastysbabe @zaldritzosrose @rafeism @valeskafics
CREGAN TAG LIST — @purplequxxn @iloveharbingers @jeongiegram @koobratzy @foxyanon
JACAERYS TAG LIST — @iloveharbingers @alynna-m @katharina1111 @simp-aholic
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avatarkv · 11 months
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EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (2)
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Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. (wc: 5264)
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You swung your legs over the edge, feet ghosting just above the calm lake that surrounded this part of the forest. It was a bit far from the village, but you felt more at ease knowing that you wouldn’t be found easily. This was your own place and ironically enough, a spot you and Jake had found years ago. You could see the familiar marks left from the arrows you had shot, deeply engraved in some of the trunks. 
One drawing had caught your eye. From one of the trees, a bit taller than the rest; an image of you and your father. It was silly, clearly etched by the hands of a kid no older than six. The lines were harsh as the wood itself was tough, but it was there– almost mockingly. You scoffed, mindlessly grabbing a pebble and flinging it right on the center. 
You have barely moved since you arrived here; detached yourself the moment you had sat near the jagged rocks. It was a habit you presumed you got from Jake. The longer you stayed, the more you succumbed to your ever-bleeding wounds– there was just something so tragic about being an eldest daughter.   
You weren’t all bite, despite the constant snarl on your lips. You weren't so egotistical as to think that you couldn't possibly be wrong, but tonight, tonight you knew damn well Jake was to blame. 
‘Is it because I’m not your daughter?’ 
Your own voice had rang through your mind. You wince in response, cringing internally. That could very well be the case– you weren't part of their family. You can’t help but think that they may have done it out of pity. 
But Kiri wasn’t exactly their own either. In fact, you and Kiri weren’t at all opposites at birth.
While you came from Tsu’tey, she was from Grace; both of you from separate blood and brought together by one. However you weren’t exactly close to Eywa or have the skills she possessed. Kiri was undeniably special– spiritual and awfully attuned. Heck, she had managed to tame her own ikran simply by asking it to be her friend. 
Still, there was no reason for Jake to treat you differently. You were jealous– of course you are. If he’s able to be as gentle as he is with your baby sister, why couldn’t he with you? It was a sickening thought, to think that he acts so rigid and unrelenting around you while he looked at her like she had hanged every star in the night sky. Sure Kiri was special, but you were at least his daughter too. Can’t he spare you even just a second of a loving glance?
With Kiri, he listens intently– looks at her with such tenderness as he takes in her every word. It was the same gaze he wore whenever we visited the sky-people lab; Jake would stare a bit too long at Grace, expression somewhere along the line of reminiscing. Whenever he had moments like these, his eyes would hold some sort of longing– a promise. Perhaps it was because Grace meant the world to him– literally. She taught him everything about Pandora, showed him the way of the Na’vi; gave him another shot at living. 
Kiri was exactly like her mother; wise and cunning. Jake probably sees Grace in her very image.  
You’d think this would be the embodiment of every father with their daughters; kind and vulnerable, but you would argue otherwise. When he looked at you, it was more of regret– grief prolonging. It was a gaze so ugly and unwanted; a weight you’re not supposed to carry. 
Because you’re exactly like Tsu’tey and Jake sees him in yourself. 
It was no secret that Jake was softer when it came to Tuk and Kiri. While you are relieved that it had been that way, you can never pray for them to experience the struggles you are burdened with– it tugged on your heartstrings that you would never feel the warmer side of your father; will never know how it feels to be babied nor to be held gently. 
You were her daughter too so you didn’t understand. What made you any different from them that you had to pretend his love was hidden beneath his icy glares and dismissive grunts? These were emotions nonetheless– however odd or minuscule they may have been. You thought that maybe, just maybe, there’d be a crack to this exterior. Maybe if you tried harder, Jake would soften up to you too. 
But that wasn’t the case because he never did. You had picked apart pieces of yourself that you thought weren’t pleasing– did better despite your age. You were young and only yearned for your father’s approval. 
( “You’re not doing it right. Again.” 
As you stretched your already sore arms for the nth time, ready to take aim, his hands tug on your stance– a bit harsher than intended. Light continued to glare down on your figure as you tirelessly corrected your posture again. Your ears pricked up at the sound of your sibling’s laughter, coming to you from afar. You stole a glance at them as they continued to play and enjoy themselves by the water, their childish exuberance highlighted by their splashing around in the shallow waves.
“Can’t I take a break?” You whined, dropping your stiff shoulders. Hearing them have fun made you want to jump in as well. 
“I didn’t let you talk my ear off just to give up. Come on, you promised me a bullseye today, baby girl.” He said, eyebrows furrowing a bit. You look down to your feet, a bit embarrassed. You didn’t want him to not take you seriously– you fear that if you let him down now, he wouldn’t let you do anything again. “Just one hit and I’ll let you off–”
His head turns sharply towards Kiri as she calls out for Jake, asking him to join them in their game. He can't help but to let out a small chuckle as he yells back a short response of ‘in a minute.’
“Again, come on.” His hands move quickly and firmly grasp your arms, helping you back to the same position before. “I’ll be watching, promise.” With a light tap on your shoulder, he rushes off, chasing after your siblings towards the water.
The quicker you got it done, the sooner you would be able to play. You pulled on the string again and released a heavy sigh before releasing the arrow. After several tries of firing shots that missed their mark, you finally managed to hit dead center with one shot. Your eyes widen in surprise, disbelief crossing your face before you jump excitedly, “Did you see that, dad? Did you–”
Your yell was instantly drowned out by Lo'ak's hearty laugh. You couldn't help but feel deflated as you watched your father lift him up onto his shoulders while the others trailed behind them in a fit of giggles. You run towards them, bow in hand. 
“You weren’t watching–” You tried to pull his hand in your direction, gesturing towards the arrow that was still firmly embedded into the red ring you had created on the trunk of the tree.
"Ah, darn, I missed it?" He said between breathy chuckles as Kiri tried to tug on his tail from behind, barely taking note of your work. "Why don't you do it again? This time I'll be sure to pay attention."
“But I want to play with you now.” 
“Dad– Neteyam caught something! It’s huge, come look!” Jake slowly lowers Lo'ak from his shoulders, letting them pull him towards where Neteyam stood. The children squealed at the sight of the fish (with Kiri letting out a few disgusted gags), but Jake reveled in pride. “Yeah, Neteyam, the mighty fisherman!”
You stayed still on the shore watching them– watching him. It was so easy to lose your father’s attention despite your best efforts. You retreated back to your spot, eyes glaring at the arrow sticking out from the tree. If a single bullseye wasn’t enough to impress Jake, then you’d just have to perfect your aim. Your hits will never miss again and you’ll make him proud.) 
You were clueless. If only you knew that there was no satisfying your father, you would’ve spent the days tirelessly training to play instead– to be an actual kid without having the worries of a grown adult. 
You could leave. At the thought of it, your head swiveled towards the unfamiliar path that would take you away from the clan– away from everything you know. You could leave and never come back; take your father’s name and build your own person. There was this selfish thought pricking at the back of your brain that once they noticed your absence, everyone would look for you and even feel sorry for what they put you through; that Jake would be sorry to lose you. 
You wonder what kind of reputation you'd leave for him when everyone realizes you had run away, never to come back. But it was unfair– your mother would be devastated. Neytiri had already gone through enough, were you worth another heartbreak? She didn’t deserve that. 
Suppose you could only dream that Jake would put on an effort for a search party– for him to grow hopeless and regretful while searching for you. You could only dream that he’d run towards you, arms wide open. “You scared me, sweetheart. I thought I lost you. I’m sorry, dad’s sorry.” 
But you’ve been away for hours and no one has reached out yet. They probably assumed that you only needed some time and space to clear your head, not seeing any cause for alarm. The only thing that waited for you back home was a hell of a scolding and a week’s punishment of tending the ikrans. Sighing, you decided to just head back.  
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Your steps are careful– silent, as you near your hut again. You expected for the worst. Neytiri could have told Jake to stay guard outside until you finally decided to come home for all you know, but you weren’t ready for another heated conversation with him just yet. So as you make your way back, you stick your neck out behind the bushes, trying to make out of the surroundings. 
Surprisingly, it wasn’t Jake that was waiting outside. It was Kiri. Her figure glows underneath the starry night and it was hard not to be discouraged, but you suppose it was better than having to deal with your father again. 
"Kiri?" You called out in a low voice, and instantly her head snapped up. She quickly jumps to her feet upon seeing your arrival, heart racing as she rushes towards you. Without hesitation, she wraps her arms tightly around you in a hug. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath to try and steady herself. “Oh great mother, thank you.”
You tentatively put your arms around her in response, hands patting the top of her head. “This isn’t the first time I ran from home,” Your voice is soft– unsure. 
Feeling your hesitance, she slowly withdraws from you. “But it’s the first time sempul has said something so..” She stops herself mid-sentence, shaking her head as if to clear away her thoughts. “I worry you’d finally want to leave.” 
You stared at her, feeling your insides soften. You could never get angry at Kiri, no matter the situation. You couldn’t just leave. She was your sister still and no one would ever understand you like she does. No one will ever grow you another sibling. As much as you hated yourself, you were meant to watch as she thrives.  
Siblings were such a weird concept; it was hard for you to wrap your head around it. Despite the fact that you could hate them with every fibre of your being, you’d still love them unconditionally and protectively; despise them but burn down the whole universe for their safety. It made no sense to be so full of such strong, conflicting emotions all at once, but she was your sister and that was enough explanation.
“Stupid eywa-powers.” You joke as you take your index finger, lightly pressing it against her forehead. She playfully swats your hand away with a laugh, eyes crinkling.
She silently murmurs, “Not stupid” to herself, a small laugh escaping her lips.
You two slowly sat on your wicker chairs in front of the fire. The seat creaked as you made yourself comfortable. Jake was real handy with his hands back then– made all sorts of things for everyone. Wooden Toruks, comfortable hammocks, and each one a special chair. Everyone’s name was etched on the back and although it was a bit smaller now, considering it was made for when you were toddlers, no one had grown out of sitting on it. 
You smiled at the memory. It was like tradition for the Sully family– a silly one, but loved nonetheless. He first made you the wicker chair and although it was rather flimsy, you argued that Neteyam should have one as well when he came around. 
It was so conflicting– to be able to remember your father was mean, despite being kind, then to know him as kind, despite being mean. You fear Jake could be every word you think of but the word father. 
“Remember that time when we played hide-and-seek and we all thought Lo’ak cheated by hiding back at home only to find out we left him at the forest?” Kiri spoke, eyes fixated at the flames. 
You chuckled, “Yeah, even dad was in on it– told us not to tell mom that we left him.”
“Oh– and that one time they left us to Mo’at to have their little dates and came home to see grandma knocked out and her hut a mess?”
You laughed, rather loudly this time. You remembered the memory like it was yesterday– little Neteyam wrapped from head to toe in bandages as you two tried to play healers; pastes and herbs were scattered everywhere while Lo’ak was playing to his own devices happily (something about kid Lo’ak and wanting to play alone most of the time). “Lo’ak and his lisp trying to explain why he was covered in warrior paint all over his body.”
“Ki-ti told me to do it!” Kiri squeaked out in her best impression of Lo’ak, before both of you burst into smothered laughter— careful not to wake anyone up. After taking a few moments to catch your breath, the area was silent once more. There was no sound other than the crackle of the fire, its flame illuminating the darkness in the vicinity. 
“I’m trying to see the situation in both perspectives,” She starts once the quietness grows unbearable. You averted your gaze, not wanting to talk it out with her.
“I really don’t wanna talk about it, Kiri.” You threw your head back, your eyes burning a hole into the night sky.
“I just don’t want it to explode like what happened a while ago again.” 
You kiss your teeth and let out an exasperated sigh, tongue clicking as you exhale. Deep down you knew that there was no getting out of this situation, so you may as well hear what they had to say. “Fine. What’s your diagnosis, doc?” 
The flap of the hut's entrance is suddenly thrown back, revealing a rather disoriented looking Lo'ak stumbling out. It's clear he had just been stirred from his slumber. “You two aren’t as quiet as you think you are.” He said, his voice low. He made his way over to Kiri and sat down beside her with an audible yawn. “What is it this time?”
“Eywa tells me of your troubles,” Kiri starts, ignoring Lo’ak. “Father isn’t at all the greatest, I know, but he’s trying– His choices aren't really the best, but it’s what he knows. If you think about it, he was just as young once and you don’t exactly become a father twice.” 
“What are you saying?” 
“She’s saying– cut him some slack, maybe?” Lo'ak breaks the stillness with an unexpected remark, his voice quite loud in comparison to Kiri's careful words. His comment catches you off guard and you shift your position uncomfortably on your seat.
“Brother, you really have to stop going out with Spider. You and your lingo is getting harder and harder to discern.” Kiri jabs him from the side, “What he means to say is– maybe you should try being the bigger person instead?”
You let out a deep breath through your nostrils, not enjoying the direction of the conversation. Your brow crinkles in concentration as you try to make sense of why the discussion was taking this turn. You had no desire to pick apart the problem any further and yet, here you were– perhaps Neytiri told them to talk some sense to you? To quiet down for the sake of your old man?
Already sensing your anger, Lo’ak quickly interjects again. “Listen, It’s like,” He turns to you, the grogginess in his expression fading away and being replaced by something more serious. “If dad happens to reprimand us, we save our excuses or any reason we have. The response he wants is an apology and an apology is what you’re going to say– that’s it.”
“But that’s unfair.” You let out a groan, lips turning into a deep frown. “Especially to you and Neteyam.”
Lo’ak only lets out a playful scoff, as if he’s trying to lighten the mood. “You mean, especially to Neteyam. Bro’s an automated machine– expect him to immediately take the blame.” He says, grinning. “I think dad is just.. cracking the code still? Shit, I don’t know. He had to learn to live on two different stars. It must be hard on him.”
“Doesn’t it hurt you? Trying to understand someone older?” 
Lo’ak stills for a minute as heavy silence envelopes everyone. “Of course it does. It stings a lot sis– but I think, no parent deserves a resentful son when all they wanted was for me to be better.” 
Then it crashes down upon you like a heavy sack filled with rocks, a realization pressing directly against your chest as you watch Lo’ak’s face, illuminated against the flicker of the flames– the lights cast an image you failed to recognize before. Your brothers weren’t exactly immune to Jake’s ways either. He was equally as tough on them. 
Maybe you can try for their sake. Maybe you should take the initiative instead of waiting for your father’s open arms. 
“Why don’t you join us tomorrow instead? Take your mind off things. We’re visiting the old shack with Spider,” Lo'ak's hand carefully reaches for your hair, the tips of his fingers ruffling through your braids– a gesture he picked up after Neteyam. You chuckle, suddenly slightly embarrassed. 
“Isn’t it dangerous?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed. 
“It is,” Kiri answers for Lo’ak, giving him a pointed glare. “Tuk heard about it and is begging to come along.” 
“More like blackmailed me– I’ll tell mom if you won’t let me come.” He put on a mocking impression of Tuk, sticking his tongue out in an exaggerated way. Kiri gave him another jab, causing him to hiss in response. “But it should be safe.” 
Kiri rolls her eyes. “We are so getting into trouble.”
“You guys go,” You say, back resting against the chair again. “Think I should fix the situation with dad first before getting in trouble again.” 
You feel Kiri’s eyes on you– gaze emitting a sense of gratitude, almost like a tangible thank you for trying. It’s funny how she’s younger than you and yet she looked out for you more than you had. 
You let out a deep sigh as the three of you settled in, reveling in the quiet serenity of the woods. The soft sounds of the forest enveloped you, providing a sense of calm that was hard to miss. Slowly, it lulled you all to a familiar kind of comfort. 
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Breakfast was unsurprisingly silent. 
You felt like the room was full of robots, their limbs jerking and movements mechanically programmed as they ate. As everyone shifted ever so slightly, it seemed almost like they were doing it robotically - stiff and slow. It was like they were walking on eggshells around you and it was hard not to roll your eyes. 
It was painfully awkward– a hard watch as Jake tried hard not to make eye contact with you. Neytiri would occasionally jab him from the side and pinch the fat of his thigh. ‘Talk to her.’ – her glare would send him the message. 
He lets out a sigh before visibly gulping. “Y/n.” 
Your head suddenly jerks upwards from the bowl resting in your lap, startled by your father’s voice calling for you. Neytiri watches in anticipation while your heart pounded madly against your chest. Suddenly, the air fills with tension as all movement ceases. Not a single soul speaks or breathes– waiting.
“Pass the salt.” Jesus Christ. 
You give him a deadpan expression, stretching your arms over to pass it to him. He carefully takes it, shaking it over his already salty meal. Neytiri could only push her hands against her face in frustration, a groan of exasperation coming from deep within. After a few minutes, she finishes up and leaves with Tuk in her arms. The rest follow suit.  
“I’m off,” You finish cleaning up the table, standing up from your seat and grabbing the weapons you needed for an impromptu hunt. Without waiting for a reply, you left Jake alone on the table. 
As you trekked further into the forest, you prayed to Eywa for guidance. You were careful to smear the war paint onto your cheeks and forehead– breathing labored, but focused nonetheless. 
You figured, your father has been doing bad from the recent hunts– only coming home with fruits and small portions of meat, sometimes none at all. It was that kind of season where the animals were out to hide and hibernate. You didn’t know where you got the confidence that you’d be able to return with something, considering the best next best warriors could hardly do so. 
You had to try regardless; you thought that perhaps it could be a way for you and Jake to open up a conversation with each other. Maybe he could soften down his glare a bit when you come home with something to eat– but as hours passed and the sun burned to noon, you were only met with disappointment. 
You stopped by an unfamiliar area, leaning against a tree as you tried to catch your breath. You regret not bringing your ikran with you– just what were you thinking?
As if the great mother had noticed your desperation, a familiar sound roars from a distance. Your ears perked up as you tried to walk through the thick bushes. A lone sturmbeest, drinking by the river. You sighed in relief before hurriedly taking your bow out of your back. They mostly traveled by a herd, but today might just be your luckiest– you stretch your arms, carefully approaching the animal. 
Just this once, you pleaded, be in my favor. 
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The journey home was dreadful. You had been carrying meat and a few bones for what seemed like hours on end, feeling the strain in your back from the task. It was a small sturmbeest– presumably female by the size, but it should be enough to provide meals for a week or so. Before you knew it, eclipse approached fast and you were eager to meet your hammock. 
You couldn’t see; unable to hold any form of light as you needed both hands to carry the heavy sack, but the thought of going home with something to proudly show your father rekindled the sense of pride that was long gone; a feeling you hadn't had in a long time– burned by the countless times you’ve tried to gain even a drop of recognition.
You were successful in hunting a sturmbeest when no one couldn’t for the past weeks– your father would be proud and that was all the strength you needed to continue waking. 
Noticing the familiar path back to the clan, a surge of adrenaline courses through your body from the thought of already nearing home. But as the horns blared from the village, you felt nothing but confusion– What could it mean and why this late? You quickened your pace towards them. 
Ikrans flew in, landing at the open space as everyone gathered around. You squeezed your way in through the crowd– stomach churning as the sound of Tuk's cries became more and more clear with every step; but before you could run to your baby sister, you were harshly pulled back. You immediately recognize your father’s calloused hands, but this time his grip was harsh– unrelenting. Careful not to trip on your feet, you steadied yourself, head looking up to meet his glare. 
“Where were you?” 
And just like that, your thoughts come crashing down around you from the sight of your father towering your figure, leaning in slightly. You feel it in the pit of your stomach; this wasn't what you wanted to come home to, this wasn't what you were expecting.
“Sir I–” 
“The kids are hurt,” Neytiri hissed, tugging him sharply away from you. “For once, hold your tongue.”
He gives you one last glance, nostrils flaring as he walks away. That was your cue to trail behind. You walked behind him, eyes cast downwards as your thoughts raced through your mind. Neytiri is quick to come and stand by your side, soft kisses pressed into the top of your head. “Are you hurt, ma’ite? Where were you?” She softly asks. 
You pause, feeling the words on the tip of your tongue leave the moment you try to open your mouth to speak. For some reason, you felt embarrassed— ashamed. 
“What happened?” You whispered as you neared your grandmother’s hut. You glanced back to your sibling���s shivering figures, all of them unable to look you in the eye. Neytiri didn’t answer either– didn’t know how to tell you that they had found them once again. They processed the severity of the situation still, clearly shaken up and scared. 
Everyone stepped inside, Mo'at immediately gathering each of them in a warm embrace. She spoke her thanks to Eywa in a gentle murmur, kissing the top of their heads. Neytiri quickly drew Tuk into her own arms, easing her shaking body. 
“Outside, now.” Jake whispers before leaving. You take one last look around at all the people in the room before finally following him, your palms beginning to sweat as your anxiety intensifies.
Once you both find yourselves in a place where there were no lingering stares or whispers, (and without Neytiri having to save your ass this time), he turns to you, anger just as fiery as before. He strides back and forth, feet heavy on the ground as he attempts to choose his words carefully.
“I–” He started to speak, but then averted his gaze, his jaw clenched tight as he tried again. “Where were you?” 
You try to swallow the lump forming in your throat as you mull over the question, taking a deep breath before finally attempting to answer. “I went out on a hunt. I have–”
“Without telling anyone firsthand? With scattered avatars over the perimeter?” Jake is quick to interject, arms flailing in anger. “Just what were you thinking? You knew about them going to the old shack and you did nothing to prevent it?” 
Your shoulders slump wearily, feeling extremely overwhelmed. “I only wanted to–”
“Jesus Christ, it’s always about what you want, yeah? You with wanting to be olo’eykte, you with wanting to be heard. You and your goddamn wants had us all worried!” 
And as you listen to him raise his voice, you turn younger and younger– until you were that same kid trying to tug on his arms to look at your first hit; that same kid who would do anything just for a moment of his time. It was like being ten years old all over again and realizing that he was slowly slipping away. That’s where you finally decided that Jake— your father, was just capable of unloving a child. 
You take a step back, feeling the frustration boiling over as well. “Well maybe if you were a better father, they wouldn’t have the need to go against you every once in a while!” You shouted with the same volume as his, “You act as if we’re some sort of troops rather than a family–”
“I do it for you– for everyone! To keep them safe! You think it’s easy?” 
“Well you did a pretty good job because from what I see, they’re shaking in their boots inside grandma’s hut!” You sarcastically remarked, “Best dad of Pandora, yeah?” 
“Jesus Christ,” He mutters under his breath before looking up, as if he was pleading for Eywa to lengthen his patience. He then looked at you, eyes momentarily softening. You were breathing heavily, fangs baring. It was funny, he thought. You weren’t his daughter and yet you stood in front of him now looking exactly like him. 
What he didn’t understand was that it wasn't Tsu’tey’s attitude that was passed down to you– rather, it was Jake’s anger you inherited. This was all him. All his fault. 
“I thought I had it good, having Toruk Makto as a father. Five year old me was the proudest, if not a bit boastful too.” You muttered, gaze not meeting his. “There’s this huge difference that draws the line between being the olo’eyktan and a father and you’re doing a real shit job at the latter.”
I miss the latter, you failed to say. 
You failed to see the way his ears flattened against his head, how his shoulders dropped like he couldn’t hold the weight of the world’s pressure anymore– but you were unable to see him. No, you two didn’t see each other eye to eye. To know that you failed your child was something a parent would never want to hear. His own daughter resented him and it was a heartache beyond repair. 
“You think you make parenting any easier for me?” 
“Then I wish you never took me in!” 
It was such a thoughtless thing to do; to utter words that you know will only harm you more than they would ever heal - but it was there, finally out of your system; a though that lingered for as long as you can remember. Why take me in? Why raise a kid you wouldn't be able to care for?
You only wished that words could be undone but neither of you knew when to bite one's tongue back.
“Yeah?” He challenged, letting out a mocking snicker. “I really wish I didn’t– is that what you want me to say? Then go ahead and leave. Find a new family, see if they won’t find you any less difficult.”
And that was the final blow– the push you needed to leave. You looked at him in disbelief, vision blurry with tears. You shoved the bag right to his chest, forgetting it momentarily amidst the shouting session you just had with your father; the one you desperately wanted to present to him. With nothing else to say, you stormed off, leaving him behind. 
Oh Eywa, there is nothing else as undoing as being an eldest daughter. 
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believe me, i've been trying to post this since 7 am and it's already a quarter 'til 9. tumblr has got to b fucking w me bec i just ran through at least 4 problems trying to get this on my account
anyway, hellaur. i know this is a bit overdue, but i had to make adjustments because i just had to get everyone's inputs and opinions in! i absolutely LOVE everyone's ideas nd you best believe i am trying to make everything word (also bec of the fact that i am a slow writer, so pls bear w me) hopefully i'm doing the story justice! this part went through a lot of modifications bec i kept feeling unsatisfied (i still am, kinda)
also, i couldn't tag a few people! 'm so sorry, some of the names don't pop up when i type it down ;(
tags: @erm2020quinzeanos @al-lethan @violilaqrs @sparklyphantom @iwanttohitmyself @planetslove @teyamsjustsleeping @sully-stick-together @grandgreengrapes @erensbbg @queen-dk @loaklvr @theyoungeagle @ducks118 @teyyyteyyy @yeosxxx @simply-lovely78 @ellabellabus07 @thehoneymushroomhealer @saturdayrj @kingjulian0o9 @hippiezworldz @joemamalackin @random-3455 @zoetrope1997 @cl0esblogg @anxietydrogz @lokisfirstandlastwife @hiddensnow1 @lunyyx @pearlsandcoconuts @blkmystery @marsbars09 @gcldtom @luna-salem @wolflover384 @mushy-mushroom04 @whatthemonsterfuckisthis @eternalidentity @celi-xxmoon @dumb-fawkin-bitch
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reiderwriter · 4 months
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♡ Girls Just Wanna Have Fun ♡
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Week 5 of my Playlist Series ♡
Summary: Spencer isn't used to clubs, but when duty calls, he's made to feel a little bit more welcome by a girl who seems to know him better than a stranger should.
Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI!! Hotchner!Reader (Reader is Hotch's sister), semi-public sex (x2 oops), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, dry humping, hand job, cum play, dirty talk, degradation and name calling (slut only), use of daddy/sir even though this is like solidly season 1 Spencer lmao, corruption kink, loss of virginity (surprisingly the readers)
A/N: Every single intrusive thought I've ever had about s1 Reid tied up in a nice little bow masquerading as a song fic. It is finished, and now I feel flushed. Please expect only fluff from me until my next intrusive thought (maybe half an hour, probably no longer).
Masterlist || Spotify Playlist
Flashing lights and the scent of dried up alcohol stains weren't usually signs of Spencer Reid's presence. He'd managed to get through college - two degrees and three PhDs - without stepping foot into a nightclub. But now that he'd joined the BAU, it seemed to be an unavoidable occurrence. 
“The unsub hunts at this nightclub, I get that, I do. But why am I the one going in? He's targeting women,” he panicked as his older team member helped adjust his clothes to conceal the weapon he carried. 
“Because, pretty boy, it's student night, and you're the only one here who can pass for a 21 year old. I guess late puberty has some benefits.” Derek smacked his arm playfully, leaving the younger man wincing slightly. 
“But I'm not a woman.” 
“Yes, but you'll be able to walk around and note any suspicious behaviour, and then we can tail suspects you flag,” Hotch explained to him again. 
“Just act natural, kid, it's not like it's your first time in a club.” 
“It is.” His warnings fell on deaf ears though, as they pushed him out of the van and into the crowd of students queueing to enter. 
It didn't take you long to notice him after you arrived at the club.
The sweater vest was enough to make him stand apart slightly, as much as he was trying his best to blend in. A slight tingle of familiarity raced up your spine as his eyes awkwardly met yours, his scan of the room stopping short as he flushed and turned his eyes down. 
Pushing slightly to the crowd, you leaned over the counter next to him and tried to get the bartenders attention. It was loud and busy, but catching attention and keeping it was a skill you'd mastered early, a skill that you were thankful for as you realised the man's eyes were guiltily flicking between your ass and the crowd once again. 
“Are you going to stare, or are you going to introduce yourself,” you giggled, sliding closer to his perch at the bar, as he panicked, standing straighter. 
“I wasn't, um… your dress, there's a rip at the edge of your skirt, I was trying to figure out if it was part of the design because I know some clothes these days have damage built into the design, or if it was in need of some emergency… sewing.” His hands gesticulating awkwardly throughout his explanation, as if anxious to show you the jumble in his brain was entirely pure and innocent, even as the flush on his face said otherwise. 
“And your name is?” 
“I-.... Spencer. My name is Spencer.” 
You stood a little straighter hearing the name, that familiarity warming you more. Spencer. Spencer. Spencer. You turned the name over in your head but took another step closer as the crowd shifted in a wave, feeling the heat coming off his body. 
“Well, Spencer,” your tongue made the decision to act for your brain, the words coming out before you could stop them. “What conclusion did you draw? Do you think the rip was intentional or not?” 
Gently, you grabbed his hand and led it to the fabric. The skirt wasn't scandalously short, but short enough to suit the dark heated atmosphere of the club at least, but as his fingers grazed the back of your thighs, still hesitant in his actions, you found yourself wishing it were just that bit higher, so his hands would have to reach further up. 
With a gaze over your shoulder at the crowd, Spencer found himself at an impass. He'd already noted a few people of interest, loiterers, men getting a bit rough and aggressive in the club, people on the outskirts (like him, he supposed) that could possibly be their unsub. 
He'd been given the all clear to disengage and leave the club as effortlessly as he could  bit something in your initial gaze had pinned him to place at the bar, and refused still to let him see reason. 
“I think it's a design feature. To draw attention to…” he swallowed hard, but you weren't sure if he was just being delicate about his words or if he was reacting to the hand that was now on him, dragging nails up from his abdomen to his chest. 
“Good observation, Spencer.” 
“Your name. You didn't tell me what your name was.” He said, grabbing your hand to stop its progress and breathing deeply as if to clear his head. 
“Y/N. We should dance.” Without giving him time to react, you abandoned your drink on the counter and pulled his arm around your waist, dragging him out to the crush of people in the middle of the dance floor. 
His protests were lost in the pulse of the music, as you kept your back to him and began grinding and swaying against him. His hands tightened on your hips as he gently started moving with you, and you threw your head back to catch his eye again. 
Spencer didn't know what he'd gotten himself into. He knew that very little actually dancing actually went on at a club, that this was just a more polite socially acceptable form of foreplay, but he didn't know that it would have such an effect on him. 
A mess of sweaty, intoxicated people spilling drinks and other fluids, and he thought he'd stay there forever if it kept your hips torturing his cock like that. 
When you glanced up at him, he was a man lost to his senses, lust clouding his eyes, mouth slightly open in a pant, you reached up to his neck and pulled his lips down to meet yours. 
You were surprised when it was his to guess to reach out first, his hand that trailed under your shirt without tours guiding it. You'd picked up a fairly innocent man at the bar and turned him into a pervert in the space of one dance. It felt like the club was watching you, how his hands grazed the skin under your breasts and caused the shiver up your spine, how your back arched to press deeper against his election. 
You may have tempted him into taking this risk, but he was the one gleefully nosediving into his fall from grace. 
“Spencer,” you whispered as he came up for air, lips resting at your ear. “I think we should get some fresh air.” 
Something in that seemed logical. It was colder outside. Maybe it would cool off whatever had lit him up like a pyre on the dance floor. Maybe the fresh air would clear his head. Or maybe just the open space would help him detangle his hands from you, would lead his thoughts away from burying himself deep in you. 
He would gladly take you outside, bid you farewell, and return to his job and his life. It was a solid exit for his first cover - who was going to question the young lovers leaving together. 
You had a feeling that the idea of outside would have Spencer pulling away from you, but you hadn't had your fill of fun just yet. 
So just as you led him onto the dancefloor, you kept a hand over his, around your waist, and you guided him out of the club, down the street a few paces, and into a darkened alleyway. 
“Y/N, we shouldn't be-” he tried to stutter out as you pulled him in for another kiss. His brain was trying to protest, but his hands were already back on your ass, pulling you up and closer to him. 
“What was that?” You said between kisses, his mouth launching an assault against each inch of your skin. 
He gasped for breath and pulled back, realising that he'd lifted and pinned you to the cold brick wall of the alley in his haste to feel you pressed against him. 
“Y/N… I don't want to take advantage of you, I'm not-” 
“I'm taking advantage of you, Spencer,” you said, nipping at his neck slowly raking your hands into his shoulders. “Am I allowed to do that? Can I take all of you, Spencer?” 
His eyes rolled back in his head as he let put a groan of pleasure, your lips sucking at the tender flesh of his nape. 
“I-I'm not a student, and-” 
“I know, but you are such a pretty boy that I decided I wanted to have some fun with you.” 
His resolve broke in half as you uttered your compliments, and his lips met yours in a moan as his hands pushed your skirt up around your waist. 
His finger trailed between your hips and his, using the wall to balance you as he pushed aside your panties and began slowly stroking your sex. 
Your hips pitched forward to press more of his slender fingers against you,  desperate to feel him stretch your cunt open first with one, then two, then however many he decided was good enough for you. 
Leaving one hand on his shoulder, you let one trail down his pants, stepping one foot down to allow you access to his zipper. 
He pauses Again for a second as you manage to get his pants open, your hand pulling his cock free from the constraint of his clothing. Spitting on your hand, you wrap around it firmly and slowly pump up and down, looking him directly in the eye as you watch the pleasure pour over him. 
His forehead rests against yours as he melts into your touch, so desperate, needing to cum so badly that he's willing to let it happen in this dark dirty alley. 
“Spencer, I want to have a lot of fun with you. Will you let me?” 
“Yes, fuck Y/N.” He nods, his hips rocking into your hand with each slow stroke you give him. 
“Spencer,” you say, rocking your hips forward and pushing your panties further to the side once again. “Spencer, please fuck me. Take my virginity, Spencer, please.” 
His mind whirled at the sentence, the pleas dropping from your lips. Virginity. You were a virgin. 
You'd had him cock stiff after three minutes of conversation  had pulled him into an alleyway and lost him in a fog of pleasure, and you were still innocent. Untouched. 
You wanted to have your fun with him. You'd chosen him. 
He couldn't articulate the lust that coated his tongue, so he simply pushed it into your mouth  grabbed his cock from your hands, lined himself up with your drippy cunt and pushed in with a single thrust. 
You gasped and let out a moan, not quite fully pleasurable. Your hands again found his shouldend, his back, but your nails were sharper this time, digging in further, almost piercing skin. 
“Fuck, Spencer, yes,” you said, breathing shakily as you slowly started moving around his cock. 
“Did it hurt?” 
“It doesn't hurt anymore. Now, please Spencer, fuck me and don't hold back. It's more fun that way.” 
He pulled your hips closer, moaning as you tightened around him. Pressing one hand against the wall and keeping another hand gripped so hard around your hip you knew it'd bruise, he began moving. 
He began slow, trying not to lose himself in the feel of your unused, tight hole. But with each small moan, each scratch against his back, he lost a little bit more of that control he was begging for. 
With his hands engaged, his brows furrowed I'm frustration that he couldn't stroke your bundle of nerves, he couldn't force you to cum on his cock as quickly as he wanted to. 
“Y/N, look at me.” You opened your eyes at the words, unaware that they'd closed tight as you emptied all other senses to just feel him. 
“Touch yourself. Right there, that's it,” he watched your fingers rub delicately against your skin, spoke little words of encouragement, and told you to increase your speed and pleasure. 
“That's it. That's it, now it's time for you to cum, Y/N. Cum on my cock, rub your little clit for me and cum around my big cock, Y/N.” 
“Shit… shit, shit, shit, Spencer, oh my god.” Your hands shook, and your hips twitched, and with a cry, you reached that high you'd been craving since you met his eyes earlier. 
He pulled out of you, slowly pulling you off the wall, as he held you up, letting your legs regain their strength. His cock was still hard, still coated in your arousal as he took care of you. 
You caught your breath fast, regained tour strength quicker as you noticed he didn't plan on getting himself off anymore. He let you have your fun with him and was happy to end it all there. 
You weren't. 
“Spencer,” you sang again, wrapping a hand once again around his erection as he tried to straighten out your now slightly more ripped skirt. “Spencer, it's more fun of we both cum. I want you to make a mess of my hand, can you do that for me?” 
You stroked his cock with a firmer grip than before, your arousal lubricating each stroke, his pre-cum mingling with it to aid you further. You suddenly wondered what he would taste like, but knew your legs would be too weak to do everything your heart desired today. 
There was always tomorrow. 
He leaned his weight back on the wall behind you, forcing you back as well as you pumped him quickly so desperate to hear him moan your name as he spilt his seed. 
“Y/N,” he moaned, and you were triumphant. His hips jerked once, then twice, then a third time, and he stilled, heaving breaths as he buried his head in your shoulder. 
He swallowed and regained his breath, and as he pulled away, you pulled your fingers to your lips and lapped up the final drops of cum that he left there. 
Most of it had his the wall, dripped to the floor, but you enjoyed these few drops and smiled brightly at him, pulling a handkerchief that you knew would be in his pocket out and cleaning the two of you up. 
He flushed again as he came back to his senses, especially as you attempted to put his clothed to rights, stepping back to replace his softening cock in his pants.
“Well,” you said after setting yourself to rights, “Thank you for the fun night, Spencer. See you tomorrow.” 
You skipped off quickly before he had a second to even process your words. 
The next day at the local precinct was a blur for Spencer as he tried to drag himself from the drug induced haze of meeting you. He'd stroked himself to completion two more times in bed after he returned to his motel room, reliving the sound of you begging him to take you, the words ‘pretty boy’ on your lips as you spread your legs. 
It'd taken his entire brain, or what was left of it, to not jump out of his skin every time Morgan had teased him with the words that morning.
“Now how did you like your first club experience, pretty boy? Did any college cuties throw themselves at you?” 
He spat up his coffee, choosing that moment to choke, and begging god for this to just be the end of Spencer Reid entirely. 
Because there was no way Morgan would actually believe that that was exactly what had happened. 
“Morgan, Gideon wants you in the interrogation room, and- wow, Spencer, you should change your shirt. What are you, 5? You can't drink coffee properly?” Elle said, chuckling slightly.
“I choked,” he frowned, but it fell on deaf ears as his teammates walked away quickly to get back to their jobs. 
He wished he could recover so quickly, even now the image of you having your fun with him the night before playing like a movie in his head. 
Looking down, he realised Elle was right, and he really did need to change his shirt. Hotch always had a few spare on hand, even for cases out of the office. He grabbed some tissues, dabbing against the mess of coffee on his shirt, suddenly thankful for lukewarm police precinct coffee, and started making his way towards Hotch. 
“Hey, Hotch-” he made it three steps before your voice cried out. 
“Ronnie!!” You shouted, throwing your hands around your elder brother as he caught you in a hug. 
“Y/N, we're at a police station. If you're going to come see me, you have to at least call me Aaron.” 
“And not take the chance to embarrass you in front of your peers and coworkers? Not a chance, Ronnie. Not a chance.” He chuckled fondly, brushing away his complaints quickly as he turned to introduce you to JJ first, then Elle and then the frozen statue that had replaced Spencer. 
“And, Y/N, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Spencer, this is my sister, Y/N. She's a student at the university.” 
You held out your hand with a triumphant grin as Spencer stared in wide-eyed horror at the apparition in front of him. 
“Hello, Spencer. It's very nice to finally meet you. My brother has told me a lot about you, and I'm very excited to pick your brains.” 
The air seemed to explode around Spencer as each breath became deliriously hot, filling his lungs with fire. It was moments before he realised that he wasn't actually breathing at all, and the air was actually quite normal. 
Your hand remained out, ready to greet him, and to the surprise of his coworkers, he took it in his for a short shake. 
“Y/N. Hotch's sister, Y/N. Nice to meet you, Y/N Hotchner, Hotch's sister.” 
He could practically hear the audible sound of Elle and JJ smacking a hand against their faces in horror at his stupidly obvious reaction to the woman in front of him. If he wasn't careful, he'd be spouting confessions of desire soon, and knowing that Aaron Hotchner carried two guns on his person even now did nothing to calm his thoughts. 
“Okay, well, Y/N, I'm busy with some interrogations now, but I can drive you back to your apartment in half an hour if you're okay to wait with JJ?” 
“Are you busy, Spencer?” You asked instead, keeping her eyes locked on the man who still weakly shook her hand, unaware of when the right time to stop would be. 
“I was serious when I said I wanted to pick your brain, my brother said you had a PhD in Engineering and I'm struggling through a class right now that I need some guidance in if you can spare five minutes?” 
Spencer stared between Hotch and you, looking for the right answer to please present itself before he imploded right there. 
“Yes. PhD, I have a PhD. Three actually, but whose counting? Me. I just counted them. One of them is in mathematics, actually, so I guess I'm always counting.” He finally dropped your hand, and you gave him a wider smile that dropped his heart to his stomach. “I am free, unless you needed me for something else, Hotch?” 
His gaze was pleading, though he wasn't sure if he was begging for his life, five more minutes alone with you or the power to extricate himself from this situation entirely, but Hotch nodded his acceptance quickly and let you lead Spencer off to the small, empty visitors room at the opposite side of the precinct. 
You shut the door behind you when you walked in, leaning over to close the blinds as well before you turned back to Spencer. 
“Your shirt is wet. You should probably take it off,” you giggled as you trailed a hand up his arm once again. 
His hand grabbed yours before you could do any more damage to his tender nerves than you'd already managed that morning. 
“You knew the entire time? Who I was?” 
“I walked over because you seemed familiar, but I only figured it out when you said your name. My brother does talk about you a lot.”
“Hotch is going to kill me,” he said, slumping down into the chair behind him. “Y/N, your brother was outside the club. He could've seen us leave.” 
You climbed into his lap, and his eyes finally met yours again, his tongue stopping its hopeless tirade as you relaxed into his chest. 
“I have two older brothers, Spencer. Do you know how often they've been able to tell me what to do?” Your hands started down his shirt, making quick work of the buttons as he stared up, enthralled. 
“Not once have they been able to stop me from doing something I wanted.” 
He scoffed quickly, unable to help himself. Your hands gripped either side of his face and lifted his head to meet your gaze again. 
“And right now, Spencer, I really want you.” A roll of your hips was enough to have him hissing and grabbing your hips. You started steadily rocking into him, eyes still locked with his. 
“Y/N, please let's be sensible.” 
“I don't want to be sensible, I want to have fun. I want to suck your dick right here, and let you cum in my mouth. I want to scream your name and let everyone know who is giving me pleasure. Can't I do that, Spencer?” 
“No,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as you dry humped him, trying to get yourself off on his lap, his.cock rising with each of your quiet moans. 
“Spencer, please. I want your big, hard cock back inside me. Please, please, please. I'll be a good girl, I promise.” 
His eyes shot open in incredulity as he watched you use his body as you saw fit. 
“Good girls don't lose their virginities in alleyways, Y/N. Good girls don't throw themselves at their brothers' coworkers. Good girls listen when they're told no, and don't try to suck cock in public, like little sluts.” He spat each word at you, bit you enjoyed each insult he hurled your way, enjoyed the way his body recoiled as he finally called you a slut. 
He seemed slightly shocked by his anger himself, but you didn't seem to care. It took you only seconds after to push your lips against his again and have your hands on his cock once again, pulling him out of his pants as his hands explored you just as eagerly. 
“Yeah, Spencer, your little slut. I'm such a little slut for you, please fuck me.” 
He buried a hand in your hair, tipping your head back so his tongue could probe deeper, his other hand already under your shirt and teasing one nipple. You lifted your hips and sunk down onto his cock, neither of you stopping to think again about your actions as you began to rode him. 
“30 minutes, Y/N, by now we have 24 minutes and 17 seconds. Can you manage that, Y/N?” 
“Yes, sir.” You said, feeling his dick twitch as you rode him. “Oh did you like that? You liked me calling you, sir?” His hips pressed up again, his body answering more honestly than his tongue. 
“What else can I call you? Spencer… sir….daddy?” 
He broke away from his place buried in your neck to push the two of you down to the floor, the new angle had you gasping as a hand covered your mouth stifling any screams you could make before you made them. 
“Be quiet and cum on my cock, Y/N,” he whispered and picked up his pace, one hand gagging you while the other pulled painfully at your nipple, pinching it between two hands and using it to lift your entire chest so your body was arched toward him, letting him go deeper. 
“Yes, Daddy,” you whispered again, against his fingers, tempted to wrap your lips around one and suck it into your mouth. 
“Fuck, just call me Spencer, Y/N.” 
But you couldn't respond, suddenly overcome with the numbness of you orgasm washing over you as you bit back a choked cry. 
“That's it, good job, Y/N. You listen so well, good job.” He rubbed soothing circles into your chest as his hips slowed, working you through your orgasm as he withdrew once again. 
This time though, he didn't try to pull away and leave himself hard, but sat himself up, and lifted you once again too, putting slight pressure at the back of your head until you were on your knees and letting your head fall down, down, down as your lips wrapped around his wet cock. 
You took him in your mouth, and tasted the bitter, salty flavor of your illicit activities, lapping every last bit of your joint pleasure up as he pushed your hair up and down his cock. 
It didn't take long for his hips to press up into your mouth slightly harder than before, his hands holding you steady as he came down your throat. He held your head there for a minute two, as you tried your best to breathe and stay there, taking as much of his cum down your throat as you could. He pulled your head off him and you swallowed the rest, smiling brightly at him as you did so. 
“Thank you for the fun, Spencer,” You said again, grabbing your phone and checking the time. 
Standing up, you pulled your clothes back in place, pulling your skirt down and your panties up, smoothing out the tangles in your hair. 
“Let me go get you that spare shirt, Doctor Reid,” you said, opening the door. “I'm very grateful for your help with my class load, sir.” 
His head fell back into his hands as you closed the door, leaving him to wonder just what the hell he'd got himself in for. 
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obsessivevoidkitten · 8 months
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Alien Escape
Male Alien Yandere × Gender Neutral Reader
(CW: Noncon, oviposition, breeding, overstimulation, crying, fear, minor character death, weird alien dick, minor mentions of medical experimentation (NOT on reader), alien, implied abduction, general yandere behavior)
Word Count: 680
(Just something I typed up on my phone because it was in my head and demanded to be written, a nice little mini-fic. Hope you enjoy!)
Tears streamed down your face, and your legs burned and ached from running so fast through the labyrinthine halls. Your frenzied footsteps on the cold tile floor were completely drowned out by the incessant blaring of the alarms.
When you slipped and broke the containment field, you had doomed everyone.
At last, you had made it to the exit. But it was covered by a heavier metal door with no handle.
Of course. The entire site was on lockdown now.
Maybe you could double back and hide in one of the abandoned rooms. If they weren't sealed off by now, too.
You ran off down a side corridor, but it was a dead end. Maybe it wouldn't come this way since it wasn't the way out.
Suddenly, the alarms and all the lights turned off. Probably sucked dry due to the escaped alien's ability to absorb energy.
You huddled into a corner in the darkness, nothing visible.
Then you saw light. Coming from far down the hall. The pale sickly green glow of the alien slowly approaching.
When he entered your field of view fully you gasped. He had a struggling Colonel Hughs in his arms, a hand over his mouth.
The alien slowly walked towards you and as he did so, he impaled Hughs with a spike that protruded from his wrists causing the colonel to rapidly age before turning to dust.
The alien had absorbed his life force.
It was humanoid, but had no eyes, nose, or mouth. Scars from "research" littered his body. Its wrist spike retracted back into itself as it slowly stepped towards you.
His strange ribbed cock poking out of his genital slit and lengthening as he approached.
It looked slimy and writhed as if with a will of its own. All while glowing with the same green light the rest of his body did.
You cowered and sobbed. You weren't ready to die. You weren't ready to die. You weren't ready to die.
And you weren't going to.
The alien had no intention to hurt you. He wanted you to be his incubator.
Out of all the people in the facility you were the only one he sensed any sympathy from. And no ill will. He only sensed regret and anxiety whenever your gaze landed on him.
It was the only modicum of kindness he experienced while being captured, contained, and experimented on.
He clung to it, focused on it. It was a lifeline for him.
And when you broke the containment unit he was housed in, he was convinced you had been purposefully trying to free him.
As he loomed over you, he could sense your fear. He gently wiped your tears away with his prehensile cock before pulling you up, turning you around, and pulling your pants down.
Yes~
This would do perfectly as a receptacle for his egg.
You begged and babbled, sure that he was about to turn you into dust.
When his slimy dick worked its way into you the noises you were making progressed into screams.
He put his hands carefully on your fragile human hips as his priggle writhed all around inside you, causing you to squirm and moan involuntarily in pleasure.
If he had a mouth your alien mate would have cooed at that sound.
The alien's dick molded itself to your inside perfectly, to kiss every little fold of your intimate depths, leaking viscous goo as it did so.
After your tenth forced orgasm from your otherworldly lover your legs finally gave out and he had to hold you close as he pumped one final time into you.
He deposited a large egg inside causing your tummy to bulge out, quite beautifully in his opinion.
The creature put his hand on your head and used his abilities to make you fell into a well earned sleep.
Green slime leaked from your entrance and down your legs when he pulled out of you.
It was a good thing you were a janitor, because once he had you back on his home world you'd be dealing with this mess daily.
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luveline · 1 year
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
the tension between you and miguel rises to an all-time high —a ficlet featuring a grumpy miguel and a flirty, distracted spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. fem!reader, 1k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Miguel has asked you multiple times to leave him alone while he's working. The strike force can't run itself (or so he claims —Margo and Lyla seem plenty capable, in your eyes) and he needs time and solitude to organise the protection of canon events, and—
"Blah, blah, blah," you say, dropping your voice to a soft, teasing melody as you skirt around his frankly audaciously jacked chest. 
"Don't blah, blah, blah me," Miguel says. You'd be intimidated if you weren't so happy to mess with him. "I'm not kidding around." 
Okay, maybe you are intimidated. That just makes messing with him more fun. 
The room he operates from, as you've so fondly monikered The Office, is in organised chaos, and much too dark. You drag a lone chair toward his control panel and set yourself down in front of all his screens and computers. 
"Ooh," you hum, reaching for an unlabelled switch with a purposeful slowness. 
Predictably, Miguel slams his hand over yours, yanking your chair back with an annoyed, "No." 
"Come on, Miguel. What harm could I possibly do?"
"You could–" 
"Topple the multiverse?" you suggest. "I've heard." 
"You could turn off every member of the Society's DMW. That's what that does. Potentially endangering each of their lives by stranding them in unfamiliar dimensions, and preventing them from correcting canon events." 
You feel bad for teasing him when you see the look on his face, anger and exhaustion and the slimmest allowance of defeat. It must be tough to lead the Spider-Society. Tougher to micromanage more than half of its members. 
Pulling your hand from under his, you cross your arms over your stomach and give him an apologetic frown. "Sorry, Miguel."
Evidence of his sweet spot for you lines his expression, softening his sharp jaw and the stoic set of his brow. It's gone as quick as it came, and his mask falls back into place. He turns away from you as though pretending you aren't there and scans one of his holographic screens, his face glowing with a yellow-orange haze. 
Miguel has to tolerate you, because you're a Spider-Girl. Though you've never called yourself that aloud, and you're not sure anyone else has, either, it's an undeniable truth. You were bitten by a radioactive spider that gave you super mutant abilities, though yours aren't as potent as others. You're not especially strong, you probably couldn't stop a bus with your bare hands, but you're smart. You haven't saved the world or anything, but you lost your Uncle Ben. You paid the toll. 
Every spider person has lost someone. Miguel seems to have lost more than that. 
"You know," you mumble, kicking the ground lightly to make your chair spin on its axle, "I've been thinking…" 
"That's never good." 
"Why do we wear our suits here?" you ask, spinning for a second time, the room moving past your eyes in flashes. "It seems performative." 
"Ah, I can answer that. Some of us work when we're here." 
You wrinkle your nose at his deadpan and kick the floor again, spinning so fast it makes you laugh. "What did you say? I can't hear you from your high horse– woah!" 
Miguel grabs the back of your chair, bringing you to a sudden and firm stop. You blink hoping it'll assuage the dizziness between your eyes, and when it doesn't work you keel forward, muttering, "Woah, I'm gonna die." 
"You won't die." 
"How do you know?" you ask. 
"You're under my watch, aren't you?" 
"I knew you liked me," you say. "Oh, I don't feel well." 
"You brought it on yourself." 
You catch your breath. When you feel okay enough to stand you almost trip, and Miguel doesn't bother pretending that he had any intention of stopping you from landing flat on your face. The you before the spider bite would've wiped out. This you giggles and holds Miguel's elbow for a second while you plant your feet. 
"Okay, boss-man," you ask, looking up at the unnaturally high screen he's investigating. "What are we doing today?" 
"I'm supervising a task force operation on Earth-31913. You're going home." 
"Miguel," you say, not sure if you want to flirt with him or piss him off. He looks incredibly pissed off already, so you choose flirtation. "Have I told you how handsome you look this evening?" 
He doesn't react. His hands don't so much as shift where they're akimbo on his hips. 
"You really have the most handsome eyes," you continue, weaving around his arm to stand in front of him. You have to crane your neck to see them. "Sulky. Do I really have to go home? I'd rather stay here with you." 
He looks down his nose at you. "Yeah?" he asks quietly, his voice rough as hewn stone.
"Yeah," you say, taking a small step back. 
"And do what?" 
You mirror his stance, hands on your hips. Your suit isn't form fitting like his, doesn't showcase nearly so much lean muscle, but you like it. You'd chosen a simple black ensemble to match the spider who bit you with a pinky purple heart over your stomach. Miguel had asked about it once, just once, when you'd first met and he had no idea how much of a problem for him you were going to become. 
Why there? 
Why do you think? you'd asked, giving him a sticky-sweet smile. 
Forget I asked. 
He lifts a hand to your chin, pinching it between two deft fingers. You're lucky he isn't wearing his gloves; his claws would pierce your jaw. 
"What do you want to do?" he asks, again so quietly. "If you stay?" 
"I could help with the task force." 
"That's what you want to do?" 
You flush with heat but refuse to let him know how you're feeling. Your heart bumps against your ribs, breath caught in your throat as he tilts your head up, as he leans down. 
"No," he says near your lips, "that's not it." 
"I could help you?" you offer. 
Something flashes in his eyes. You hesitate to call it lust. It reminds you of a cat with a mouse in it’s clutches, only his pupils are blown, black and inky and wide as dimes. 
"You want to help me?" he asks, his lips an inch, half of that from yours. 
You nod minutely. "Yes," you say under your breath. 
His hand moves to your cheek. He leans in closer and closer, until there's a hair's width of air between his mouth and yours, the tips of your noses bent together. His breath fans over your bottom lip and it's hot. You swear you can feel his heart as his chest presses to yours. He lingers there for an endless handful of seconds, silently egging you on.
You call his bluff and refuse to close the distance. 
Miguel pushes you away from him, far from cruel but certainly not sweet. "I have a tower of paperwork you can file," he says. 
"Here I thought you were finally going to bite my head off," you hum. "You're a sore loser, Miguel." 
"And you're my pest," he says, holding your gaze for a half-second too long. He turns away. "Lyla? Arrange the recounts from the last canon event for Spider-Girl's perusal, please." 
"So you've remembered I'm here?" Lyla asks wryly.
You don't mind the paperwork. You sign each one with a winky face and a pink gel pen heart, knowing Miguel will go over them all again, and knowing he'll grow angrier and angrier with each heart.
He'll kiss you and mean it one day. You just have to play the waiting game.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!
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