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#is this proof read? no
rhinestonesox · 2 months
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When Senshi was young in the dungeon the majority of the adults he were with ostracized him. All except Gillin, who died to make sure Senshi had something to eat: unseasoned boiled meat that may or may not have been one of their comrades.
It really puts into perspective why he was so nurturing towards Chilchuck. When Chil reveals he’s 28 to the party, Senshi responds by telling him that he thought he was older. Senshi was in his 30s when he and his comrades got trapped in the dungeon, so it’s safe to assume that he thought Chil was at a similar age.
He met a young boy who was, from his perspective, forced to do dangerous work in the dungeon just like he was, and so, Senshi made an effort to look after Chilchuck in the same way Gillin looked after him.
Mind you, when Senshi was young in the dungeon he had to starve for weeks, eat the horse he loved, and finish it off spending the next i don’t know how many years wondering if he committed cannibalism.
Senshi understands first hand the value of nutrition and proper eating, so when he’s with the party he makes an effort to make sure they’re all eating a full and balanced diet. Not only that, but Senshi INVOLVES them in the process of getting food to eat, always preparing it in front of them and narrating every ingredient in the process so that there’s no doubt about what they’re eating.
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hqkalon · 10 months
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jjk men with an overstimulation kink
toji always knew he had a overstim kink, he just pushed the thought to the back of his mind— always reminded of he previous women he’s slept with who couldn’t handle him in bed. either they physical slapped him back into reality, or ghosted him the day after but that never stopped him from getting play.
“what’d ya just say angel?” he asked with such an amused expression as he kept pounding into your sensitive cunt. “once more!” you cried, begging for another orgasm. such a plea sounding like music to toji’s ears. “anything you want princess.”
gojo is oblivious to the matter, as long as he has you crying on his dick it doesn’t matter… he’s a man who would accidentally overstim himself and you together.
“mmm shit.” gojo groaned, feeling the way your cunt perfectly swallows him whole. his hips going numb, only being able to feel the pleasure flowing through his dick. “gojo!” you whined as the head of his length continuously brushed against your g-spot. “yeah baby?..” lust glossed over his eyes as his tone softened, “let’s cum together again.”
sukuna’s a fan favorite of overstimming. he will not stop until your dumb off his dick and an incoherent mess. it almost fulfills him like some type of ego booster, he definitely bends the rules when playing by his book.
“cryin’ after you begged to be fucked?” he hissed, bullying his thick cock into your poor pussy— feeling you clench over his words. “it’s too much!” you whined through wet lashes as your next orgasm approached. “pathetic.”
geto is unaware, until he’s aware of such a kink. he always had some kind of knowledge about kinks and would even fantasize them, but physically was a different story. though he’s a natural at almost everything he does (by calculation).
“g-geto i’m about t’cum!” soft moans fell from your plush lips as geto fucked into you. angling his hips in a specific direction as he felt your walls clamp down against him, “ahh fuckk.” he groaned, still thrusting inside you while humming in response. “just one more time angel.”
nanami knows exactly what he’s into, but he’s intimidated by acting on it because once he does there’s no going back. he’s a man of his word, if he says again then that means again. nanami won’t stop until he himself if fucked out alongside you.
your wrist bonded together with his tie as the pads of his calloused fingers rubbed small circles against your swollen clit. “nanami!” soft moans fell from your lips as your tummy twisted in knots. “i know baby.” he cooed, watching your hole pulse in pleasure. “you’re gonna do it five more times.”
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coochiekrab · 5 months
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Touchy yet touch starved
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scatterbrainedbot · 7 months
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cass, a professional: order of badass donbot, extra dramatic entrance!
me, nodding, banned from most kitchens: leo drama and angst, heard chef!
(shoutout to @somerandomdudelmao for yet again making feel emotions i cannot fully explain)
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meowkn · 13 days
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You were fast asleep on the bed when he returned home, the blanket barely covering your half naked body. Your hair tousled over the pillows and a small smile on your lips as you dreamt, probably of Jason.
“Sweetheart.” Jason whispered, kneeling down so that he was face to face with you. He brushed some of your curls out of your face, shaking his head at the sight.
“Sweetheart.” He said a little louder, shaking you slightly. Waking you up from your nap. You sat up slightly, rubbing your eyes as you tried to fully wake up and form coherent thoughts.
“Jay?” You murmured, turning to look at him, kneeling down beside the bed. He looks exhausted, his hair messy, and his eye bags darker than usual. Your eyes flitter over to the clock on the bedside table
1 A.M
Figures.
“Hey…” He murmurs, his hand finding his chin, guiding your face back to his. His hands are calloused and rough, but his touch was gentle, he’s always gentle with you.
“Hey, sleepy.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“Rough day?” You mutter, still waking up as you gaze into his eyes. Even in the dark they’re bright.
“Mhm.” He brushes his fingers over my cheek, caressing you softly. “I had such a rough day.” He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his spare hand. “I’m so tired.”
“I missed you today.” You say softly, grabbing the hand that was caressing your face and holding it.
Jason stands up fully, stretching his arms before getting into the bed next to you, scooting you over with his body before burying his head into your shoulder, his arm snaking around your waist.
You stayed like that for a while before his free hand reached around your head, tilting it back, making your neck more accessible. He placed light kisses on your jaw, trailing down your neck. You could feel his fingers rubbing against your skin, trying to find the hem of your shirt.
“Jay, it’s late.” You murmured, a soft sigh escaping your lips at the sensation of him nibbling on your neck.
“Not too late, I missed you.” He hums against your skin, slipping your shirt up. You can feel his fingers sliding across your skin, almost desperately tracing the contours of your skin.
“I just don’t want you to be tired, yeah?” You say, pulling his face from your neck, taking note of the whine that escapes his lips after.
“I don’t want sleep, just you.” His words come out as a mumble as he presses his lips back against the skin of your neck, sending goosebumps through your body. He hummed contentedly, his fingers tracing your body, almost reverently.
“Just need a little bit of you…then I’ll let you sleep.” You could feel his fingers find the waistband of your underwear, playing with the material teasingly as he smirked against your neck.
“Jay…” Your protest fell on deaf ears as he bit down on your neck, then soothing the bite with his tongue.
“I’ve neglected you all day… Let me make it up to you.”
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sincerelybubbles · 1 month
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it's a date || spencer reid x reader
masterlist || part 2
warnings: cannon-typical violence/mentions of murder and kidnapping, slow burn, fluff!, early seasons spencer, not proof read
word count: 6.1k
You sigh and crack your knuckles, staring down at the pot simmering on the stove. You know that the sauce would be okay if you left it for a few minutes, did something else, but you remain standing, uselessly stirring it every few seconds. Truthfully, you’re bored. Your mind shifts from cooking to work tomorrow, itching to pull out your documents and scan through them one more time. But you know you shouldn’t, advise about work-life balance tugging at your attention. 
You’re debating if you should pick up a book and try to read, something light to take your mind off of the day, when a knock sounds from the front door. Your dog, Penny, a lovely golden retriever you rescued a few years ago, lets out a weak woof before slowly standing and trotting to the door. She’s old, more grey than golden, but she never fails to answer the door with you. 
You turn the stove off and move the pot off of the burner, wiping your hands as you walk, when another knock echoes through the hallway. It’s sharp, official, loud. The sound fills you with anxiety. You stand on your toes to look out of the peephole.
“Hello?” You ask through the door, not recognizing the men standing outside and seeing no package in sight. 
“Hello, Jason Gideon, FBI, could we have a word?” The older man says, voice stern but not unkind. 
You open the door without unlatching the chain, peering out through the crack. “FBI?”
Jason Gideon, the one who spoke, pulls out his badge first. The lankier man next to him follows in suit. Your eyes linger on him for a second longer than the other agent, taking in his toussled brown hair. You scan the badges for a second before shutting the door to undo the chain. 
“Sorry, you can’t be too careful, you know?”
“Oh, we know that all too well,” Gideon says good-naturedly, “it’s good to be cautious.”
He asks your name, you give it, and nods sharply, looking to his partner. “Well, like I said, I’m Jason Gideon with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI, and this is my partner Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“Well, come on in, Agent Gideon and Dr. Reid,” you say, waving them both in and shutting the door. 
“Just Gideon is fine.”
Dr. Reid sends you a tight lipped smile as he walks in, adjusting his shirt and otherwise avoiding your gaze. He seems nervous. 
“Would you two like something to drink while you tell me why you’re here? Coffee, tea, water?” You ask, twisting the dishcloth between your hands as you lead them inside.
“I wouldn’t say no to some coffee,” Gideon says. You nod and turn to Dr. Reid, who is staring at you with his mouth slightly agape. 
“Oh, yeah, coffee for me too, please.”
“Of course, have a seat,” you say, waving them to the small table in your kitchen and moving to prepare their drinks. Neither of them sit.
“How well do you know your neighbors?” Gideon asks as you start the coffee. 
You shrug. “As well as anyone does these days, I guess. I wave when I drive past them, smile when they’re out front at the same time. Why, has something happened? I saw the police cars earlier, on my way home from work, but I haven’t heard anything else.”
“Yes ma’am,” Dr. Reid says, even though he looks your age, maybe even a few years older. “Your neighbor across the street was murdered last night, Mrs. Furgison, and her eight-year-old son is missing. Did you hear anything?”
You fall still, facing away from the two officers. Numb, you shake your head, “No, I didn’t. I wasn’t home last night. I was watching my niece for my sister.” You turn around to face them, leaning back against the counter. “But there are cameras outside, I’m assuming that’s why you’re here?” “Yes,” Gideon confirms with a nod. “Would you be okay if we took a look at the last few weeks of footage if you have it?”
“You want to see if he’s been visiting before last night,” you mumble, nodding. “Yes, of course.”
“Do you work in law enforcement?” Dr. Reid asks, the question erupting from him like he couldn’t hold it back. “You’re shockingly calm and seem to know what we’re going to ask before we get to it.”
“Oh, yeah,” you chuckle, waving a hand in the air and turning to pull the pot of coffee out. “BAU, of course, you’d see right through me. I’m a victim liaison. I read through this process hundreds of times a week. Sugar?”
“No, thanks,” Gideon answers as Dr. Reid blurts out, “Yes, please.”
You set the mugs on the kitchen counter along with a container of sugar.
“Help yourself, I’ll grab my laptop to get those files for you.”
When you come back, laptop in tow, Gideon and Dr. Reid are having a hushed conversation, both holding their mugs of coffee. You round the corner slowly but loudly, aware that sometimes agents can be jumpy. Gideon smiles at you while Dr. Reid looks over sharply. 
It fits, given their ages and presumably how long each have been in the field. You try to send him a reassuring smile. He reciprocates but still looks obviously awkward, fixing his hair and taking a sip of coffee.
“Would you like me to put the files on a USB? Email them somewhere? Or just,” you motion with the computer, offering it over. 
“I can take it,” Dr. Reid offers, “send the files to Garcia.”
You let him, passing him the computer easily. With your job, the government is already elbows deep in that laptop, anyway; you have nothing to hide. 
You watch as Dr. Reid begins typing away on your computer, leaning over the table and resting his forearms on the edge. 
Both of the agents are dressed professionally: button-down shirts, slacks, dress shoes. Guns ready at the hip.
“You like to cook?” Gideon asks, nodding toward your forgotten pasta on the stove. 
“Yes and no,” you admit, chuckling and turning your attention to him. “It always tastes better than takeout but it’s hard to get the motivation. Are you hungry? Can I offer you anything else?”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary, but thank you.”
“Of course. I know how overworked you lot can be.” You cross your arms and lean back against your counter. “What about you? Do you cook?”
“Not as often as I should,” he admits, smiling sadly. “Victim liaison, you said?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You seem a little young.” “Could say the same about him.” You nod at Dr. Reid who doesn’t hear you, too focused on his work. “But I guess drive and pretty much no social life can get you anywhere,” you admit with a laugh. 
“Garcia should have the files in a minute,” Dr. Reid interrupts, looking up from your laptop.
“I’ll give her a call.”
He steps out with a nod to you, walking back into the front hallway of your small home and leaving you alone with the doctor. 
He opens his mouth to say something before his eyes focus over your shoulder and his attention is stolen. “Sorry,” he says, moving past you and into your living room, toward your bookshelf. “Is that a Russian copy of Crime and Punishment?” He asks, brushing his finger over the spine of the book. 
“Oh, yeah, it is.” You follow him, staring up at your own bookshelf like you’ve never seen it before. It’s crammed full of books. There are more filling your bedroom down the hall as well. “It’s a slow read, I have to use a lexicon a lot of the time, but I sort of like the work. Translating’s a hobby of mine, I guess. When I have time. Sorry, that might be weird.”
“No, it’s not weird at all! Not to me, at least. Are you using a Dictionary-based lexicon? Can I see it? I have one that I love. I haven’t read much Russian but I have one for Greek. They’re rarely used anymore, falling out of popularity with the creation of the internet where everything is readily available to just search up, but I find them fascinating and I’ve never seen one for Russian before.”
He talks enthusiastically with his hands. His eyes shine, the interest lighting up his face. You think, before you remember the reason why he’s there, that he’s actually quite handsome. You become slightly breathless at the realization. You don’t really notice people like this often. But, towering above you, buttoned shirt pushed up to show his forearms and a self-concious smile stretching across his face, you’re a little flustered.
You take a breath, remembering that your neighbor is dead and a little boy is missing, sending Dr. Reid a small smile and motioning behind you.
“It’s in my office if you want to go look at it. I prefer it to just typing out the stuff I don’t know — mostly because I don’t have a Russian keyboard — and it’s easier to learn when you have to research it.”
“I would actually love –”
“Reid,” Gideon interrupts, ending his call, “Garcia got the files, we have to go.”
“Oh, yes, of course.”
“Thank you so much for your help,” Gideon says, walking toward you and offering his hand. “And for the coffee. So sorry to have interrupted your cooking.”
“Anytime detective,” you say, shaking his hand and smiling up at him, “always happy to help. I can give you my card if you need anything else?”
“That would be great, thank you.”
You rush to your bag to pull out one of your cards and hand it to Gideon before turning to offer Dr. Reid your hand. 
“It was nice to meet you, too, Dr. Reid.”
He takes your hand firmly. “Spencer’s fine,” he says, stumbling over his words slightly but still smiling. “Thank you for your help.”
“Anytime,” you repeat, letting them out and returning to your sad pasta. 
Your mind wonders, not to the murder or kidnapping, but to Spencer Reid. Wide brown eyes, tousled hair pushed out of his face, a sweet smile. Smart, too. Way too smart. 
You’re not exactly experienced when it comes to dating, you hadn’t lied to Gideon when you said you don’t make time for a social life, dating included, but you do know that an interest in a too-smart profiler might spell bad news. 
Still, as you portion out your meal, you can’t help but think that you’re feeling awfully motivated to return to working on Crime and Punishment. You don’t lie to yourself about the origins of this sudden spark of motivation, but you do rationalize it. What’s the harm in a fleeting crush, then? Especially if it gives you the push to finally finish one of the many projects hanging on your ever-growing list?
You suppose you might see them arround the office if they’re working in this jurisdiction, but then he’ll be gone and it’ll fade away. In the meantime, you make yourself a plate of food and settle down in your living room with the book and lexicon.
||||
“Well, that certainly poses an interesting problem,” you hear Cheif Saunders say as you walk into the police department the next morning, arms full of files ready for sorting. 
You round the corner to escape this attention but aren’t fast enough and he calls you over by name. Cringing, you turn on your heel and are faced, once again, with Gideon and Spencer. With them are two more men and two girls, all intimidating and confident. 
All FBI, if you had to wager a bet. 
“Morning,” you say, nodding to Gideon and Spencer respectively. “Nice to see you two again.”
“You’ve met?” The tall man next to Gideon asks, pointing the question to Spencer. He grins, white teeth overtaking his dark, handsome face. He reaches his hand out to shake yours, “Morgan, nice to meet you.”
You introduce yourself, explain your position, and receive introductions from JJ, Elle, and Hotchner as well. 
“Where did you meet our friends?” Chief Saunders asks, folding his hands in front of him and setting an accusatory glare on you. “Still preening for a new job?”
“No sir,” you say, uncomfortable. The chief is often cold with you, refusing to acknowledge your knowledge or work. When he found that you were looking to transfer stations to the one a district over, he’d still thrown a fit, though. You guess he can’t ignore how well your numbers reflect on him as easily as he deflects your accomplishments to your face. 
“We stopped by to get access to her cameras, she lives across the street from the Furgison’s,” Gideon explains, watchful eyes glancing between you and the chief. 
“They proved to be surprisingly useful,” Spencer interrupts. “We now know the make, model, and color of the unsubs car as well as his general height. Garcia is still trying to make out plates, but we are able to confirm at least pieces of our profile with the information.”
“You live across the street?” The chief asks, still staring at you. You shift your weight, holding the files closer to your chest. 
“Yes, sir. In a duplex.”
“Then, fellas, I’ve found the solution to our problem. You’ll set up with our little liaison, then.”
“Sorry?” You ask, startled. 
“We have reason to believe that the unsub is returning to the crime scenes after the police have left the area and allowed the family to return. But, if we know our guy, and we think we do,” Elle says, begrudingly, “he’s smart. He’s going to notice if we’re camped out in a car. And, in a residential street, it’s much harder to hide in a building.”
“So, you’ll have the opportunity to make yourself useful,” Chief Saunders chuckles, laying a heavy hand on your shoulder and shaking you.
“Only if you’re comfortable,” Gideon adds, glancing at you with a patient expression. 
“Yes, it would be a complete invasion of your privacy, agents would be there twenty-four-seven monitoring. We would only stay in the front areas of the house, of course, but you needn’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. There are always other ways.” Agent Hotchner fixes you with a level look, voice sincere. 
“Oh, she’s comfortable, aren’t ya?” The chief says, shaking you again with a wide smile. 
“Yes, of course,” you say, nodding at the others. You mean it, you’ll do whatever you can to help out, you just wish you could’ve made the choice yourself.
“This way, you don’t have to worry about confidentiality, either. Little Miss has full access to ongoing investigations, she’ll be there for all of the briefings and such.”
You nod, discretely moving a step back so his hand falls from your shoulder. 
“Yes, I’m meant to be kept up to date with all ongoing, violent investigations where and if possible to act as a bridge between law enforcement and victims and families of victims. Especially those with children involved — I should have mentioned we would cross paths again last night, I just wasn’t thinking.”
“Yes, we’ve worked with our fair share of liaisons,” Gideon chuckles, looking over his shoulder at JJ who gives him a small smile. 
“Then it’s all set. You boys let me know when you have your profile ready.” Elle watches him walk off with a hard stare, obviously just as rubbed wrong by him as you are. 
“Lovely man, isn’t he?” You joke, trying to make the situation lighthearted. 
“We’ve interacted before. Our headquarters isn’t actually far from here, just a twenty-minute drive, we’re up in Quantico. He doesn’t get any better with time, though.” Agent Hotchner shakes his head, turning to grab a file off of the desk behind him. 
“Well, he always forgets to offer his office space to visitors so I usually keep mine available. It’s quieter and there’s a whiteboard, follow me.”
||||
Since you started renting the small duplex by yourself, you’ve never felt awkward in your own home. Now, though, you feel odd taking up your own space. 
The majority of the Quantico team is set up in your front room with laptops, cameras, and microphones. 
“We don’t know exactly how long he usually takes to come back to scenes, only that it typically happens within the week,” Elle explains to you apologetically. 
“No problem — comes with the job, no?” You say, smiling and trying to brush it off. Elle laughs gently, nose wrinkling as she shakes her head. 
“No, not really. I wouldn’t be thrilled if these boys set up shop in my house, you’re taking this with much more grace than I would.”
You shrug, crossing your arms and tilting your head from side to side. “I won’t act like it’s normal, it is pretty weird having you guys here, but if it helps you catch this guy, why would I say no? Better me than some random civilian.” You hesitate, scrunching up your nose, “Better now than waiting for him to kill someone else.”
“Much more compassionate than I am,” Elle jokes, shaking her head and walking away as Gideon calls her name. 
The main problem, you think, is that the duplex isn’t very big. The part of the team that’ll be staying with you — Spencer, Gideon, Elle, and Morgan — have all settled in. They won’t come and go, their car is firmly parked in your garage, and they’ll keep a low profile to prevent the unsub from noticing their presence. You’re meant to come and go as normal to keep suspicion low in case he’s cased the entire neighborhood. But, with only two bedrooms, a baths, and a small office, you’re feeling slightly cramped. Whenever you turn, you feel like you’re coming toe-to-toe with someone. It’s awkward, considering you’re very used to living alone. 
Still, you’re determined to be a good host, so you set to preparing lunch for everyone. They’d insisted that you didn’t need to, but you really don’t know what else to do. You’d been given the day to help them all settle in and provide assistance wherever possible, but there isn’t much to do other than wait. 
You’re pulling out the things for sandwiches when Spencer walks in. 
“Hey, do you have an extra ethernet cable? Garcia thinks that a direct line would be better,” he asks. 
“Maybe, you’re free to check in the office if you want. If you need, you can always pull the one from my desktop,” you say, shutting the fridge and trying to balance everything in your arms in one trip.
“What’re you doing?” Spencer asks, reaching forward to grab the ham and mayo from the top of your stack. 
“Making sandwiches!”
“You really don’t have to. We can have food ordered, it’s okay.”
“I wanna make myself useful, I feel weird just standing around watching you guys work,” you say, dumping the materials on the counter. “I hope you guys like ham or turkey, it’s all I have.”
“You are being useful, though. You’ve let us set up in your home, how much more useful can you be?”
“I could provide food as well,” you say, sending him a smile. “Ham or turkey?”
Spencer looks exasperated, setting the ham and mayo down and shaking his head. Nervously, he uses both of his hands to push his hair back. “Either. Either is fine, thank you.”
You start to prepare the sandwiches, Spencer watching and still looking like he wants to say something. 
“Hey, Reid, I found one, we’re all set,” Morgan says, rounding the corner and waving the white chord in the air. “Oh, what’re you making?” He asks, stepping closer and leaning over your shoulder. 
“Sandwiches. I was asking Spence if you guys like ham and turkey but he wasn’t being helpful.”
“Well, Spence can be like that,” Morgan says, throwing Spencer a smirk over his shoulder. “But we’d appreciate anything.” “I was trying to tell her,” Spencer interrupts, “that it’s entirely unnecessary for her to make us lunch. She’s already done enough for us letting us set up here. The effort is appreciated, of course, obviously, you just shouldn’t have to. Because we’re already intruding.” He trails off as Morgan sends him a look, raising his eyebrow. 
“Well, I, for one, appreciate the offer,” Morgan says, leaning on the counter and smiling down at you. You laugh at him. 
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it! I do,” he says, turning to you and holding one of his hands up in a placating way, “I just don’t think, it’s very kind of course, I just –”
You cut him off, taking pity, “He’s fucking with you. Relax.”
||||
“I just can’t believe that you’re actually processing any of what you’re reading at that speed!” You say, throwing your arms up. 
“I actually am. Speed reading, when done right, doesn’t take away from comprehension at all. Plus, with my eidetic memory, I can always think back and process later if I need to,” Spencer explains. 
“Fine, you’re understanding what you’re reading in a general sense, but where’s the enjoyment in it? How can you possibly understand all the intricacies of the writing, what the author is doing, and appreciate the characters and their growth if you don’t take your time with it?” “I tend to focus my reading moreso on informational writing, so that’s not often a problem. And when I do read something fictional or with more nuance, I’m never lacking in any way when it comes to my understanding of the content, even when speed reading.”
“So you’re not actually taking the time to have fun reading is what I’m hearing.”
“Reading is inherently fun when you’re learning something, though,” he says, lips quirked in a slight smirk and a line forming between his eyebrows as he looks down at you. The look is so disarming that you find yourself deflating a little. 
You’re in your living room, a few books scattered on the coffee table between you two, debating the merits of each one. 
“I dunno,” you say, argument leaving you as you become distracted. 
“Just say I’m right! You know I am,” Spencer says with a chuckle, shaking his head and leaning toward you slightly, hands spread. 
You thought he was cute when he was shy, bumbling in your house yesterday, but after a few hours to warm up to each other, you can’t deny you really like him. 
The only thing that completely blocks the disappointment that they’ll all soon be leaving is that their UnSub will be caught when they have to leave. Your community and neighborhood will be better off for it. 
“No, I still think you’re wrong. Sure, you understand what you’re reading but I just don’t buy that you could possibly enjoy it in the same way that I am!” You’re trying your damndest to regain your confidence, shaking your head side-to-side with a wide smile to erase the vision of his own smirk, his hands, his rolled up sleeves from your mind. “I mean, nothing beats curling up with a book and taking your time with it.” “Well,” Spencer interrupts, lifting a finger, “how can you say if you’ve never tried my way?”
“Speed reading? I’ve done it, actually.” You shrug at his hesitating look, suddenly feeling vulnerable under the weight of his eyes. 
“Really? What method? What was your fastest time? What —” Morgan cuts off his questioning by walking in and calling for him. 
“Gideon wants you to take a look at something.” “Ah. Breaks over.” Spencer stands from where he was sitting on your armchair, brushing his hands off on his pants. He points at you while he walks away, “We’re not finished, though!”
“Oh?” Morgan asks when he’s gone, raising his eyebrows at you. “Unfinished business?” You scoff, moving to pick up the books you pulled out to talk to Spencer about. 
You like Morgan. He’s an easy one to like and he feels like the bigger brother you don’t have with his easy smiles. The chaos in your house hasn’t been easy, you appreciate his consistent presence to lighten the atmosphere. 
You’ve actually come to like all of them. Elle with her stories, Gideon with his dry smiles, and Spencer. Really, you just like Spencer. You’re an adult, you’re not ashamed to admit it. Just, only to yourself, lest you mess something up and make him uncomfortable. 
“You know, I can’t really say I haven’t seen him this excited before because the kid gets excited about everything but,” Morgan shrugs, pushing himself off of the wall he’s been leaning on and coming to sit next to you, “you do seem to get along well.”
“Oh, yeah, Spencer’s nice,” you say, standing to put the books away. 
“Nice,” Morgan muses, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms. 
“He is! You all are.” You laugh when Morgan raises his eyebrows again. “I’m being serious, I would kill to work on a team like yours. You all actually work together.”
“We have to.”
“It certainly works out better when you do.”
“Yeah, your boss is a real dick. He usually walk all over you like that?” You wrinkle your nose at him as you sit down, pulling your legs under you. “More or less I guess. My personal opinion is that he’d like more men on the team and … no women,” you joke, giving him a what can you do? look, smiling sadly. 
“And you tried to transfer?”
“Stop profiling me,” you say, eyes narrowing. Morgan smiles, all teeth.
“Not profiling, just remembering him saying something like that when we talked at the station.”
“Oh,” you say, slouching back. “That’s considerably less impressive.” “Ouch.”
“Yeah, yeah, I wound you. But I did look into transferring a while back. I’ve been trying to move up for a while and keep getting blocked. But, no surprise, I got blocked again.” You raise an imaginary glass, cheers-ing with the air, “Go government!”
“That’s fucked,” Morgan says, letting out a low whistle. “So you don’t want to stay a victims liasion?”
“No, I do. But it’s not my only job right now. It’s a little complicated, but our office is too small to have a head liaison. So I really just run around filling gaps wherever I can until I’m needed to do my actual job. I’d love to do just liaison work, I really like working with the public. Feels like I’m actually helping people, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” “Hey,” you say suddenly, not wanting to keep the mood somber (or ignore the FBI agent in your house with your silly woes while a murder investigation is underway), “you want some tea? Coffee?”
“Sure doll, I’ll take some coffee,” Morgan says, a confused smile taking over his face, “if you’re offering.”
||||
“It’s actually pretty interesting,” Spencer is saying, flipping through files and leaning over to show Elle something. 
“Oh, I bet. Nothing better than vicious murder,” you say, dry, rolling a pen between your fingers. 
“I mean the process behind deciphering their reasoning,” Spencer says, shrugging. 
“I just don’t know how you look past it to see anything other than the violence,” you say, shuddering. 
He and Elle have taken the night shift and are giving you a rundown on profiling. You’ve worked with profilers before, but they’re small-town cops, more interested in closing cases than being scientific, or, at times, even correct. 
“How do you look past a crying mother after her daughter has been murdered to get the information you need?” Elle asks. “I’ve worked with hundreds of victims, I think I’m pretty good at it, but your records show that you’re one of the best.”
You heat at the praise, shrugging your shoulders. “I wouldn’t say I look past them. I actually try to get into their shoes to figure out what I can say to get through to them.”
“Often the victims families know more than they think. Every bit of information they can give us or the police about the victim only lead us closer to the unsub. We often rely on your job to get important information out of victims and families that we wouldn’t otherwise have. It requires tact, empathy, and extreme emotional control,” Spencer explains, setting the file down and brushing his hair back. 
“Well, thank you?”
“I think he’s trying to say what we do is similar,” Elle explains, “it’s just the opposite side of it.”
“I’m still not following — but I’m definitely not built to be a profiler, that’s for sure.”
“But you could be. You profile in your own way. We look at the bad guys, the killing patterns, stuff like that,” Spencer leans forward, enthusiastic. “You just profile less intense people. Gather information from them, figure out what they need. Get in their shoes, to use your words. You use their actions, small phrases, and what you can gather from their homes to approach them the best way, no?”
“Looking at their clothes and body language and stuff, sure.”
“We do exactly that with crime scenes. Recognize patterns. Just like you can’t imagine seeing past the violence, some of us can’t imaigne having to see past the emotion of someone dealing with fresh loss.” Elle smiles. “You’d probably make a really good profiler. You’re just a better victims advocate.”
You consider that, weighing their words. “Sure, maybe,” you admit. “I still think it’s kinda like magic, though. Your knowledge, your intuition, your teamwork. It’s cool.”
“Thank you,” Elle says kindly. 
Spencer jumps back into his explanation of the types of murder-kidnappers, musing with Elle again about their profile. Their ability to constantly return to the same evidence over and over without any hesitation is still amazing to you. Despite what Elle said, you’re sure you’d get bored. 
You’re even more sure that it would stick to you in a way that working with the victims never did. You visit crime scenes, sure, but you never do everything in your power to commit every bit of them to memory. 
As they talk, you move toward the window and move the curtains over slightly. It’s the middle of the night, the second the team has spent in your home, and you’re curious how much longer this unsub will take to be caught. 
You’ve done your best to keep to your usual schedule and luckily it’s not unusual for you to be up late. The movement behind the curtains won’t be suspicious, so you stand and peek out curiously at the home across the street. 
Penny sighs from her bed in the living room, snoring softly. She’s taken a liking to your guests who are always willing to give her attention and scraps of food. 
The Furgison house bigger than yours, a family home with a large backyard. It’s a faded blue, lightened by the sun, with a white door. Theres a dim porch light that’s been left on, throwing yellow shaddows across the street. 
You swear you see a curtain move in the window and your entire body freezes, breath stolen from your lungs. 
“Hey guys?” You say, dead quiet, as you see the curtains flutter again. Small, nearly inperceptable movement. Greys and blacks angainst more greys and blacks. 
“Yeah?” Elle asks, still reading over the file with Spencer. 
“You’re sure that nobodys gone in tonight?”
“Certain,” Elle says, moving quickly to stand next to you. “Why?”
“Curtains moved,” you say, nodding toward the house. 
“Maybe the AC was left on?” Elle suggests and you shake your head. 
“No, we would’ve noticed it before now. They have no animals, the house should be empty.”
Your heart is racing as Spencer joins you at the window. 
“You sure you saw it move?” He asks, moving to stand behind you, just out of sight at the window, a hand pressed to your back. Gentle pressure, just his fingertips, that makes you siffen even more. He moves his hand, whispering an apology. 
You wish he hadn’t. 
Your mind spins, distracted for a moment, shaking your head again. 
“Yes, I’m certain.”
“Go get Morgan and Gideon,” Spencer tells you, sharing a look with Elle. 
||||
You follow the team out, despite their insistence that you don’t have to, holding your own handgun out and following the light Morgan casts. 
You live in a relatively sleepy neighborhood. Shared duplexes and little houses line the streets, most with little flowerbeds out front. The Furgison house is no exception: it’s a little blue house with rose bushes out front. It backs the small patch of wood that runs along the length of the highway. 
Heart racing and head light from adrenaline, you stay out front to watch for any movement inside while Morgan and Hotch creep around one side of the house, Spencer and Elle take the other side. 
“Back here,” you faintly hear Morgan say through your earpiece. “The cellar door is open. It was deadlocked last time.”
You sitffen, readjusting your grip on your gun. 
“Wasn’t it cleared, though, when we were here last?” Elle asks. 
“Yeah, but he could’ve snuck in through the woods — there’s no telling.”
“Didn’t we position police cars on the highway?” Elle again. You can imagine them all standing behind the house, guns drawn. It’s intersting to hear them communicate so efficiently, voices low. 
“We’ll worry about it later. Morgan, you take the lead, I’ll take the rear, Elle stay out here.”
For a long few seconds, you hear Morgan, Spencer, and Hotch begin to clear the basement, until you’re jolted out of the repetitive “clear!”s by Hotch yelling, “FBI, put your hands up!”
The next few minutes turn into a whirlwind as police cars arrive and Morgan drags the UnSub out of the house by his handcuffed arms. 
The Furgison boy comes out next, disheveled and passed to the paramedics in the back of an ambulance. Once you see Hotch, Spencer, and Elle are okay as well, you jump into action, going to sit with the boy and comfort him. Morgan is there, too, crouched down to talk to the kid. 
“You’re all good now,” he’s saying, reaching forward to ruffle his hair. “And my friend here is going to make sure that you see your dad as soon as possible.” Morgan gestures to you and you nod at the little boy. 
The sight of him makes your chest ache: he’s scrawny with wide brown eyes and a mop of curls on the top of his head. 
“Agent Morgan is right, your dad is going to meet us at the hospital.”
The boy doesn’t say anything, shaking under his emergency blanket. 
“I’ll ride with you in the ambulance, too, and that’ll be fun, right?” You ask, jumping up to sit next to him. Slowly and sluggish the boy rests his head on your shoulder, still shivering. You wrap an arm around him before mouthing ‘I’ve got him’ to Morgan. He gives you a small sile, waves at the boy, and goes to join his team. 
After being checked over again by the paramedics, the boy falls asleep quickly in the hospital, holding his dads hand. You’re leaving the room, shutting the door with a soft click, when you see Spencer sitting in the hallway. 
“How is he?” Spencer asks, standing up at the sight of you. 
“He’s okay, some minor bruises and scrapes, dehydrated but on an IV. They’re just happy to be back together.”
“That’s good,” Spencer says, falling quiet and looking away. 
“And, hey, you guys caught the bad guy — now you all get to go home!”
“Yeah,” Spencer says, turning to look at you again, chuckling slightly without any heart behind it. 
“Are you not excited?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. 
“It’s always nice coming back home after a trip, even one as close to home as this one is. But it’s a little bittersweet.”
“How so?”
You practically see Spencer gathering his courage, straightening his shoulders and sending you a small but genuine smile. 
“Well, we have some unfinished business, remember? And you never showed me your lexicon.”
“Well,” you say, smiling, “you’ll just have to keep in touch, then. Maybe we can get dinner?”
“Yeah. Yes, of course. Dinner.” Spencer is fully grinning now, eyes squinting with the force of it. You can’t help but mirror him, laughing a little. “Well, I do have a car to catch. I just wanted to check on him and say goodbye.”
“Well, goodbye for now Dr. Reid.”
“Goodbye,” he says, smiling at you for a second longer before turning to walk to the exit. He makes it to the doors before he hesitates, one hand on the handle. He stands there, still, for a moment before turning around and asking, “Dinner, like a date, right?”
Giddy, your smile only widens as you nod. “I would really like that, if you’re asking, yeah.”
“I’m asking.”
“Okay, then it’s a date.”
i wanted more to happen here but then i got this far and still had so much more i could write about these two aahhh
lmk if u want a pt 2 bc i kind of have ideas :) tysm for reading!!
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razzle-n-dazzle · 4 months
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Hihi!!
Can I ask for some Adam dating headcanons?
MY MAN NEEDS LOVEE
ᯓ★ "Alright, Sugartits. You, me, you know what we're going to do." Adam / reader | Headcanons This man deserves so much more love!! >:v
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ᯓ As the first man, and proclaimed original dick, Adam not only is rather obnoxious with his titles though can be rude and a bit sexist. At least, that is what you first thought when you met him all those years ago; what felt like years but had actually been a few decades.
ᯓ You first met Adam in a council meeting, having been recently promoted to sit upon the council (or having been a sinner that Charlie was trying to redeem). Either way, you were not safe from Adam and his mischievous nature and it was like he could pick out new blood in the court room like a shark closing in on it's prey. You had been minding your business at first, settling yourself before you heard the sound of large wings flapping in your direction and a pair of footsteps landing behind you. Followed by another, smaller pair. The marble floor wasn't great in hiding their landing, but you guessed they weren't trying to be sneaky the moment that Adam had opened his mouth.
ᯓ "Shit, you're the new guy that Sera was talking about? Man, you're even shorter than I thought you were, Babe." Adam would laugh, jutting out his arm to measure the height comparison between you and him. You would turn around to this, and was quickly unamused by his antics. "Adam, I presume?" You would mumble back to him, face dropped in annoyance that he didn't seem to pick up on. He just seemed rather overly excited that you had knew his name. "Oh fuck! Mortal souls still talk about me down there on Earth? Well, I wouldn't expect anything else I fucking rock."
ᯓ He was pretentious, that was the best word you could describe him as. Rude, arrogant, obnoxious, pretentious. He boiled your blood anytime he opened his stupid mouth and you often just wanted to shove your hand down his throat just to rip it out. He would constantly barge into your office and appear behind you in court just to annoy you and see "what you're working on," since he's technically "your boss" and he just doesn't see anything "wrong with it". You've had to shove him out of your office so many times; had even complained to your superiors about his behavior and yet no one seemed to take you seriously. They would shrug their shoulders (especially Sera) and just claim: "That was Adam" and you just had to "deal with it." Oh and that made you want to punch the little fucker even more.
ᯓ Your 'professional relationship' with Adam started off extremely rocky and you tried your best to avoid him in the halls and courtroom at all cost. The less you had to see him, the less you had to hear about him, the less your had to hear him or even stand to be near him, the better.
ᯓ And Adam noticed. He noticed really quickly actually.
ᯓ Not like it was hard to notice, you basically avoided him at all costs. Taking another hallway if you saw or heard him coming down one, shoving past him if he tried to block your path, ignoring him if he tried to talk to you, and so much more that he brushed off. Constantly, you heard him turn to Lute and point at you, jokingly telling her: "It must be that time of the month." With his stupid grin and cheesy smile. (Does this even if you are male) And you thought it was just him trying to get under your skin and annoy you into talking to him again; or even acknowledging his presence. You also had a hunch that it was him trying to save his 'precious little ego' that makes him so insufferable to be near.
ᯓ Yet, it was odd. For how much you hated, no loathed Adam, you couldn't get his stupid face and idiotic voice out of your head when you were along, shrouded in the dead of night. Especially on nights like tonight: Where you were sat along in your office, the chimes of midnight ringing along Heaven, as night clouded and contaminated the once gleaming city of day. You were leaning over your desk, trying to finish an assignment given to you by Sera; an assignment that was important to your continuation of climbing the council ladder. And yet all you could hear was that stupid fucker's voice in your head constantly. His remarks, his tone, his- ugh! His stupid, stupid voice why couldn't it just leave you alone.
ᯓ Why couldn't he just leave you alone?
ᯓ . . . but, dammit, why did you feel comforted by the thought?
ᯓ In reality you shouldn't be, you should never feel comfortable around a prick like Adam who only searches for one thing in women; sex, ass, and tits. Three things, okay, but it's all in the general same category. He was the man who would be at the top of your hitlist, if you could have one in heaven, yet his voice was the only thing keeping you up right now; Letting you fight off sleep for another night and finish this report sooner than Sera said she wanted it just to show her how capable you are. And as you continued to scribble away, letting the moon crescent slip back under the clouds to let it's sister sun peak over with it's gleaming light, it hit you. And the realization of WHY hit you hard, and the truth made you stop in your tracks. The final period to end your assignment taunting you along with your thoughts:
ᯓ Somehow, someway, you had started to grow a crush on that fucker.
ᯓ Somehow, by some grace (more like punishment), of God did you begin to harbor something other than loathing for Adam. For the annoying Adam who constantly picked you out in a room and came over to talk to you. The Adam, which you never noticed, began to grow more tolerable even if you kept up your act of avoiding him. The Adam, who constantly comes in to see what your doing but then asks you a million and one questions, not because he cares about your work but because in some twisted sense in his mind, that's him caring about you or trying to get to know you. The Adam who called you Sugartits and Babe all in your first 2 seconds of meeting. "Fucking Adam.." You would grumble under your breath, slamming your pen down to finish that last period as a mix of emotions boiled in your blood.
ᯓ "Fuck me? Kinky, but what the fuck did I do to you, I just got in!" Shit. Well, this is such a great start in trying to get to know Adam better. (I hope you can hear the sarcasm that is basically pooling on the floor)
ᯓ Yet, somehow, no matter how rocky the situation ship started, somehow Adam had a big enough of an ego to see it through and you had gained enough patience to put up with his bullshit. And trust me when I say, you need either need to match his energy, yet in a more responsible way, or have enough patience to deal with this man or your drowning under his egoistical bullshit. (Adam needs a Hispanic wife desperately. /j)
ᯓ For the most part, your relationship is actually rather lovely. Most wouldn't believe it, seeing as Adam is.. well Adam, but you were able to see the weirdly good intentions behind his rather questionable and problematic choices. As for such, when he had gone to Sera to start the extermination, during the whole meeting all he could think about was keeping you safe. What was the best way to keep you safe? How could he keep you from being entranced by Lucifer or Lilith and their sin and evil? He didn't want to lose you like he lost Eve and Lilith. Sure, he joked about being a fuckboy and a player (at least that's how he comes off) yet he never has actually touched anyone after Eve. He was waiting for someone, someone like you, to capture his attention and soon after his heart; and he chased after you and he was going to keep you, and he was going to protect you if it was the last thing he did. Because as much as Adam hates to admit it, he is terrified to be alone; to live all the rest of his immortality by himself, going home to an apartment with no one to share the warmth and feeling that empty wound in his heart.
ᯓ Adam, on the lighter note, is also the type of man who will go to a restaurant with you and claim he'll try something new; i.e. lobster. You had known, at an instant, that it would go wrong and decided to order any sort of red meat you could find that you knew Adam would like. And, wouldn't you know it, when you two got the food he couldn't bare eating that lobster. So, you offered to switch your plates and he was more than happy to. You don't think he's caught on yet, but you'll keep it a secret just to be able to see the excited grin he gets before snatching your plate with a "Thanks Babe!" and even kissing you later.
ᯓ You learn very quickly the only way to get Adam to start cleaning around the house is to either A) let him play his guitar for you, to simulate that he's helping by giving you motivation (and swooning over his voice a little) or B) playing music similar to that Adam plays (like AC/DC, Imagine Dragons, anything Indie-rock) and give him small tasks to do that slowly equate to one larger task. And then, of course, there is always his favorite option C) hug your waist and make it impossible for you to clean your shared apartment as he basically speaks dirty into your ear with his classical snicker.
ᯓ You're guys sex life is amazing though, Adam makes sure of that (so that cunt Lucifer can't take you from him like he did Lilith and Eve, through 'temptation'). But, honestly, you're the only person he has given head to or has eaten out, pick your choice. Either way, man goes crazy if you tug on his hair or tell him you won't ever leave him.
ᯓ The first time you saw Adam with his mask off was an experience, both for you and for him. For a long, long time Adam kept his mask on around you, even while in private, and you've always asked why he did so but he would never give you a straight answer and would brush around it. You often chalked it up to be a comfort thing for him, to make him feel stronger than he actually was and you didn't bother him much. Yet one day, you got oh so curious about what his face was like under the mask that you couldn't help yourself: Sitting next to Adam outside on the balcony, you listened as he prattled on about his work day all the while he ate. He was having some burgers you had cooked for him before he got home, as he exclaimed about, "These bitches don't know who the fuck they were talking to! I mean, hello, I'm fucking Adam I'm the dick master and I would have fucked them into next Friday! I'm like 10 times cooler and stronger than them, bitches thought they could come into the exorcists and make fun of me, well I-..." Adam paused unnaturally, a confusion sweeping over his digitalized golden-accented features. "Babe, what the fuck are you doing?" He would add on no more than 5 seconds later, noticing had you had moved from your seat and basically were straddling him right now. Though you didn't hear him, well you did but you shut it out as soon as he opened his mouth again; "You know, this is making me fucking hard right now and if you just wanted your sweet little insides-" "Adam." You hushed him as his arms wrapped around your waist and brought you closer. There was no missing the way his eyes widened in suprise at your sterner tone. Though his grin returned, another crude comment about to slip from his lips before he hushed again; Doing so as your hands had meet and cupped his cheeks in such an oddly tender way. And Adam had a hunch what you wanted to do, or well what you wanted to see, and he felt those same nerves churn in his stomach again anytime this topic was brought up. Yet, no matter how much he noticed the want in your eyes, you didn't ask him. All you simply did was lean towards him and place your forehead against his, closing your eyes. And all Adam could do was stare at you, stare at your beauty in the light of the setting sun, and feel those nerves slowly string loose. And he felt safe; for the first time in a long, long, time he felt safe. "Babe.." And his voice cracked, causing your eyes to shoot open with worry. You drew away from Adam, your hands darting down to his shoulders as you wondered if you had somehow offended or harmed him. Yet all he did was smile softly at you as his wings fluffed out, basking in the light for a moment, before encapsulating the both of you. He was hesitant, his eyes drawing away from you as he took a moment to gather himself before he pulled off the mask for the first time. And you swore, in that moment, you somehow both practically died again and fell for him. "Oh shit.." You would mumble, catching Adam's attention rather quickly. You saw the worry contort on his face, "You've been hiding this handsome face from me, Adam what the fuck?! I would have much rather look at this than your fucking mask when you were blowing my brains out you b-" "Woah babe," Adam's hand rushed up and covered your mouth. You saw his scheming smirk playing onto his lips, "I can fuck you now if you want to, but I thought we were having a moment! Look at you, ruining it this time instead of me!~"
ᯓ Oh the fucking tease.
ᯓ Adam isn't perfect, far from it, but you aren't either. You honestly probably help each other over come traumas of the past and heal together. After all, you're both just a burning pile of hot mess, so why not be a burning pile together?
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ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.
(Hope this was good! :D I haven't written since I had gotten sick and writer's fog/block, so this might be a little more shaky than my regular work. I would appreciate any constructive critiques you may have!)
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simporado · 3 months
Text
‼️ nsfw, mdni please
self-indulgent baku being down bad for reader ^q^
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Bakugo closes his eyes to bask in the feeling. The feeling of shame? Or the feeling his hand stroking is cock harder than he did the last time again? He's not really sure.
The thought flies away when he cums, his mind blanks at nothing but your face. His seeds splattering onto his pants and on his naked stomach. He falls down on his back, sweaty and panting. A hand goes over his eyes as he calms his breathing down.
"Fuckin' ridiculous." He huffs to himself, shaking his head as if disappointed in himself or to clear his head. He pushes his bangs out of his sweaty forehead as he gets up from his bed to go shower.
Its already almost a year since you've invaded his thoughts. and It's been about— actually he doesnt know since when he's started jerking off to the thought of you.
The first time he had ever looked at you this way was when that stupid dunce face and fuckass perverted grape tricked you and the girls into wearing that shitty cheering uniform. He thinks he probably wouldnt give a shit about those uniforms, had you not bumped straight into his chest that day along the halls, feeling left behind as all the girls had already gone out wearing those outfits.
You had looked stressed then, he remembers. He surmises its because you were wearing something different, and had none of your classmates with you.
"H-Hey, watch where you're fucking going!" He stammers a little, but makes sure to sound normal.
"A-Ah, sorry." is all you had said to him before hurriedly running out to the field to where the rest of the girls were.
He didnt know it then, but that was when he started noticing you.
It had only been stealing glances at you since then, until you had been partnered with him during no-quirk sparring.
Aizawa had you paired together that day. He huffed before getting into his fighting stance, and you did the same. You were in a ponytail, and seeing your hair up was already doing things to him, but he had to focus.
He’d lunged in first, and at the first half of your spar, he seemed to have the upper hand. Then, you started to finally hit back and dodge his advances. He noticed immediately that you were studying how he fights. And he sports a somewhat crazed smile at the realization.
Infuriated and probably turned on, he fought harder, and so did you. But alas, he still ended up winning. He had you immobilized on your stomach on the ground. His hand pinning your arms a bit painfully on your back while he straddles the back of your thighs. Your is face squished against the mat floor of the gym. You grit your teeth in pain caused by Bakugo restraining you, but its also mostly in annoyance.
"You lost, shitty nerd—" he manages to say before hearing the whistle. His hold relaxes a bit, but you struggle and kick his rear, he stumbles forward a bit. He puts his hand in front of him beside your head to break his fall, but his crotch ends up grazing against your ass.
He freezes for a millisecond then shoots up instantly and left. He lets out an audible 'tch' before immediately walking away trying to look casual, despite his reddening ears.
He sighs as he closes the shower, then steps out to dry himself and get changed.
It was around after dinner time, and he's just about ready to go to bed. He heads down to the dorm kitchen to get himself water for his room. Surpisingly, no one else was down there in the common rooms.
Or so he thought, as he almost jumps when he sees an ass sticking out in front of him on the floor. It seemed like you were trying to reach for something from under the sofa.
"The fuck are you doing?" He asks, voice gruff. He kinda hopes he doesnt sound weird. You pull back to look at him, hair tussled.
" 'Was trying to get my phone." is all you say, your lips pouting a bit.
Bakugo's eye twitches. And his cock. Your eyes flicker down for a second.
"Fuckin' move over," He says before bending down to get your phone for you.
“Ah, but you don’t have t—“ but you r protests were futile already as Bakugo lifts the couch, making sure to show off his strength and biceps (thank god he wore a sleeveless shirt tonight) your way in feigned nonchalance, and grabs your phone with the other. This doesn’t go unnoticed to you, of course.
He was about to hand you your phone, but stops in his tracks when he looks down and sees what was on your phone screen.
It's a picture of him shirtless. A bit dirty and sweaty, probably during one of his hero work.
You move immediately to snatch your phone but Bakugo's reflexes are too quick. He raises an eyebrow at you. "You took this?" he asks, smirking.
"Izuku did." you shake your head, correcting him. You cross your arms and tilt your chin downwards to glare up at him. His eyebrows only shoot up higher at the information.
"This what made you drop your phone and got your ass out trying to get it back?" He asks, the smirk on his lips growing into a grin.
You glare at him, cheeks burning. You jerk your chin towards him. "You cant say shit about me when you've got a hard on. 'That because of my ass?" You ask, eyes glaring at him but he can see mischief and lust in them.
A groan rumbles deep in his chest before stepping close to you. "So what if it is?" he growls mostly out of struggling to keep his cool. He sees you slowly smile up at him at his answer, and you’ve never looked even more gorgeous. His heart thunders aggressively against his ribcage.
"I'll meet you at your room to help you with that." is all you say then turn to head to the elevator, not before snatching your phone in his hand.
He lets out a breath he didnt know he was holding. Snapping out of his stupor, he moves quickly to get his water bottle filled before sprinting to his room like a horny lovesick fool. God, you really will be the end of him.
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a/n
i edited/proofread it a bit finally. i didnt bother at first because i thought i didnt like this piece enough. i see yall want a part 2, lol i shall try. pray that my ovulation takes over me 🙏
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awearywritersworld · 4 months
Text
when you knock on gojo's apartment door with a tear stained face and wobbly lips, he doesn't waste time.
and by that i mean he doesn't ask questions. he doesn't check the hall to see if anyone's around. he doesn't acknowledge the lateness of the hour.
no, he barely even processes the state you're in before he's pulling you against his chest.
and he holds onto your frame so tightly, as if you're his lifeline. though in this particular moment, it's undoubtedly the other way around.
the air surrounding the two of you remains quiet until he hears you stutter out his name.
"what happened?" he asks gently.
"i-i'm just overwhelmed," you mumble against the fabric of his shirt. "i don't understand why things always have to be so difficult."
even though you aren't entirely positive you're making sense, he hums in way that makes you feel understood.
"do you wanna talk about it?"
you shake your head no. the thought of having to discuss your problems evokes an uncomfortable feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach.
you just want to be held, and gojo is happy to oblige. "alright."
he doesn't say anymore, nor he does he move an inch, save for the small circles his thumb is drawing against your shoulder blade.
he stands there with you until you decide to pull away from him and really, he doesn't mind one bit. he's positive that there isn't a single thing in the world more deserving of his time.
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antiwhores · 4 months
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Everything hurts for Alpha!Bakugou when he goes into rut. And it hurts even more when your scent lingered around his room from when you guys hung out yesterday.
He’s gonna regret having his phone in his hand right now, he just knows it. Because he has your contact info opened and he’s contemplating ruining the friendship you two have carefully built.
You and him were not just friends but best-friends, since the second year of high school. And ever since then, he’s has a thing for you. His inner alpha goes crazy whenever you’re near, that or its contempt. You guys even happened to end up being neighbors.
And that was all gonna be ruined because he was ringing your phone right now. You answered after 3 rings.
“Whats up?”
He couldn’t help but to wrap his hand around his cock at the sound of your voice. He started a steady pace, trying to respond clear and hoping you couldn’t hear his cum soaked hand going back and forth for the… who knows how many times now.
“Where are you?”
Good. He managed to sound normal, but it came out quiet. It worried you.
“I’m at my place.”
“Come over.”
He said it before he could stop himself. This rut especially hurt and it was making him do things he might regret.
“Why? Are you okay? You sound… weird.”
He sounded weird? He thought he sounded normal. It didn’t matter, he was about to cum from listening to your voice.
“I’m fucking fine. Just… come over…”
“Well, can it wait? I have-“
“Tell me about your day.”
You had to notice he was acting weird now. This was so out of character for him. But he needed to hear your voice to finally get a fraction of his relief.
“Huh? Okay, well… I went-“
As you rambled he pulled on his dick to a picture of you he took one day at the beach of you in that bikini he liked (with your permission, he said it was for Mina).
He was getting close, having to bite his lip to conceal the groans and moans threatening to spill.
His tugging was getting faster and faster as you went on until finally he climbed he got to his high.
Before he could stop himself, he moaned loudly into the camera. He came in ropes all over himself. The other line was silent as he steadied his breath.
The clarity hit him like a bus as his high came down. And just as he began to panic and think up a worthy apology, you spoke.
“I’m coming over.”
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plant-dad-sulu · 4 months
Text
star trek show that's an anthology series in which every episode is a different recognizable genre but in the context of a canon star trek culture like High School Drama on Vulcan, Police Procedural on Betazed, Breaking Bad on Ferenginar,
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eddiesghxst · 1 year
Note
no thoughts just loser!eddie losing his shit when he sees you over at his house for the first time, rifling through his things like any normal friend does.. but you stumble upon a box.under his bed. it’s like slow motion when he walks into his room and sees you open the lid and he nearly drops a glass of water, literally biting his fist in pain, trying to stop you but then you’d only get more curious of what he was hiding.
you. he has polaroids of you except they’re the dirty cum covered kinds. he has your underwear with his stains in it. he has your perfume bottles, your rings (he would totally get hard seeing how tiny they are compared to his, and imagining the dainty stones on the rings on your ring finger like an engagement stone)
it’s like a fucking shrine for you and he thinks he’s gonna pass out as your eyes widen.
but you only turn to him and smile, and his knees weaken. literally almost fainting when you kiss him because you have definitely slept with his sweatshirts, came to the idea of eddie, etc. he’s just such a fucking loser but that night he makes you cum so much you see stars and he’ll have a scrapbooks worth of polaroids (just from that night alone lol)
anyways do you think you could write a lil something based loosely off that? 🫶
BESTIE I MIGHTVE DIED YES. YES YES YES.
also this ended up longer than I'd intended but who cares its pervy!loser!eddie
18+ — MINORS DNI
word count: 1k
————
Eddie’s not sure if he believes this is real. There’s no way this is real, right? There’s no way he has his best friend naked on his bed, covered in sweat and cum— his cum, at that.
He almost thinks it’s all another one of his sick, perverted dreams, but then he’s reminded that none of those dreams have felt this real. None of his dreams have felt this vivid to where he can actually feel the tremble in your hands as you wrap a fist around his wet cock, the shift of the bed as you clumsily scramble to your knees, the lewd and unmistakable shlick sound of your hand fisting his spent cock. It’s never been this vivid— that’s how he knows this isn’t a dream.
You’re blissed out and cock-drunk as you shuffle to lean on all fours, lowering your mouth to suckle on Eddie’s leaking tip. Your toes curl at the sound of Eddie groaning above you, a hand resting on the back of your head to shove himself further down your throat. “Take it all the way in, that’s it— fuck,” Your center throbs at his words, a wet gagging noise emitting from the back of your throat when Eddie’s tip meets the tight space. He curses with a groan, head dropping back for a moment before he looks back down at you with a lazy smirk.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you gag on my dick, sweetheart.”
You whine, your hips grinding back against nothing, the cool breeze of his room sending shivers up your spine when it graces the wet heat of your cunt. Around you, scattered on the bed, are the many polaroids you had just discovered earlier. Snapped photos of you in bed, in the shower, getting dressed in your room; all images that would’ve sent anyone else running for the hills. Eddie was so sure you would never speak to him again when you found that box full of all things you, but to his surprise (and sinful delight), you were just as fucked up as Eddie, if not more.
Eddie’s eyes dart all over the bed; polaroids, lace panties and matching bras, dainty jewelry, lipsticks, and perfume bottles. Eddie Munson was a perverted thief, and it somehow landed him balls deep down your throat. 
He reaches down and picks up a particular Polaroid, one of his favorites; a picture of you laid on your stomach in your bed, one leg hiked up to form a comfortable sleeping position. You’d forgone your sleeping shorts this night, and Eddie took it upon himself to jack off and cover your ass in sticky ropes of his cum, snapping a photo as the white substance dripped down between the folds of your ass to stain your pretty panties (Eddie stole those panties that same night).
He takes the picture and holds it up between two fingers. “So many nights of wasted cum… you’ve got a lot to make up for, sweet girl.” His voice is low and teasing, and you whine against him, nuzzling his cock further down your throat until your nose brushes against the curly hairs surrounding his base.
Eddie’s knuckles are tight against your scalp when he pulls you off his cock, shivering at the wet gasp you take, bleary eyes blinking up at him as your spit drips onto his thighs. “Think you’ve been good enough for it?” He wraps a hand around himself and rubs his throbbing tip against your lips, humming in approval when you open your mouth to offer your tongue. He slaps himself against your tongue a few times, chuckling when you whine and squeeze your thighs together. You can feel the sticky feeling of his cum and your arousal sliding against the insides of your hot thighs, and your eyes roll at the sensation. You lean forward and nuzzle against his cock, “Please, Eds— want it so bad. I’ve been so good, I have.” Your words are nearly slurred; the only thing on your mind is the overwhelming urge you have to feel Eddie’s cum in the back of your throat.
You don’t see Eddie reaching for his camera, too focused on licking your way down to his balls. “Fuck— look at me, sweetheart, give me those pretty eyes.”
You slowly blink up at Eddie, wet lashes fluttering and pouty lips grazing his cock as you gaze at the camera. A flash and a snapping sound echo through the room before a white card come out the bottom, a curse falling from Eddie’s lips as he shakes the paper and tosses it to the side for later. He nods down towards you, “Love on it, baby; show me how much you love my cock.” You don’t wait for another second, licking a thick stripe up his cock, rounding your lips around his tip to suck eagerly. Eddie takes another picture, and you whine.
“Shit, I’m gonna come— keep sucking baby, keep taking me in.”
You shuffle forward, nose brushing against his pelvis once again, and Eddie takes it as permission to secure a hand atop your head and begin fucking himself into the back of your throat. Both of your hands are fisted into the sheets below you, watery eyes gazing up at the blissed-out Eddie above you. His hips falter during the last few thrusts; he doesn’t last much longer. 
“I’m gonna come… don’t swallow, okay?” You nod as best as you can, and without further directions, Eddie’s cum floods your mouth until you nearly choke on it. 
He pulls out of your mouth with a moan, instructing you to open your mouth and show him your tongue, which you immediately obey. He reaches for the camera once more, snapping one picture with you on all fours, gazing up at the camera with your tongue out, white sticky cum coating the inside of your mouth. He takes a second picture, this time with his hand cradling your jaw. The third and last picture he takes is with his hand still cradling your jaw, but his thumb is now pressed against your tongue, smearing his sticky mess across your tastebuds.
And when he tosses the newly printed photos into the pile of new Polaroids, he catches a glimpse of one clear picture of your pussy freshly fucked and covered in his cum. Eddie can’t help it when his cock twitches against his thigh once again.
It’s safe to say that Eddie had to get a new box the next day <3
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ratioaven · 3 months
Text
spoilers for 2.1 !!!!!!!
aventurine rant, please keep in my mind that these are my own thoughts and interpretations. im extremely sleep deprived lol so im sorry if i got anything wrong
something thats been on my mind since yesterday are these lines.
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from the start to me, it was very clear aventurine had self esteem/worth issues because of how he treats his own life, but the line that says “the other hand is below the table, clutching your chips for dear life” stuck out to me.
i always assumed aventurine was so incredibly confident in his luck but in reality he is afraid. he’s terrified that he’ll lose. it’s an act. he convinces himself, he fools himself, he forces himself to act like he’s confident he’ll win, when in reality even if he does win, he’s still clutching his chips under the table for dear life because of how terrified he is of losing.
that really messed with me to be honest. i feel tricked and what’s ironic is that he tricks his opponents into thinking he’s confident, and he also tricked ME the player but really, this made my heart break in two because i had absolutely no clue up until now.
so why does he act this way
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all throughout his life, aventurine has had his pride stripped away. just try to imagine being in his shoes. i myself do not think i could deal with the situations he was put in. i cannot stress this enough, aventurine has a mark on his neck that screams to him that he has once belonged to someone. he has had his pride stripped away from him countless times. but it’s ironic because aventurine is introduced as a very prideful and flashy man. you start to realize the front aventurine puts on is his own way of protecting himself. it’s how he’s able to live basically. i wanna go into more detail but i will later.
as it was said before, aventurine is an uptight person who worries. he is extremely afraid of losing and he has a massive inferiority complex. aventurine may seem like a go lucky person on the outside, but in actuality he is not. he is not happy. he has no self worth, he believes he has nothing to live for, and he has no problem with throwing his life away. aventurine believes the only good thing he brings to the table is his luck.
but this brings me to my next point.
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aventurine may not realize it, but he is so much more than his luck. he has so many good qualities and he doesn’t seem to realize it. even if some of it may be an act, he’s still able to pull it off. he’s still an intelligent business man who is both charming and cunning EVEN if it may be an act, those are still amazing qualities to have in his line of work.
but more importantly, aventurine chose to live. despite witnessing his family die, being a slave, and tortured, he chose to live. he chooses to. i cannot stress this enough. this man has gone through hell and back. he truly has had an incredibly difficult life to the point where my heart hurts so so badly for him. he made the decision to stay alive.
that says more than enough about his character.
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and last but not least, aventurine wants one thing, and that is to be with his family. he’s witnessed horrible things in his life that no one should ever go through. he lost everyone close to him, he lost his people. he has nothing to live for and he values his life so little to the point where he has no problem with dying. the only real thing that he wants is just to see his family.
and he will one day, but in the meantime, i genuinely hope this man can find a reason to live, and ratio already gave him one just by that note. i just truly wish aventurine happiness while he lives the rest of his life.
i guess this is a topic that really hits me hard because i know all too well that choosing to live life isn’t easy sometimes and i just love aventurine.
let’s all appreciate how truly amazing his character is.
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octarineblues · 7 days
Text
can we appreaciate carla sunday, who wanted to support her daughter in finding her biological mum and instead got the front seat to see the beginning of a potential apocalypse
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mamayan · 7 months
Note
yandere jjk? with noncon(your wish) megumi /gojo/toji
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Yandere Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Megumi Fushiguro x Fem! Darling
cw: Not proof read • Gladiator JJK! • Slave girl reader • Dark • Yandere • NSFW • Fem/AFAB Reader • NONCON turned DUBCON • Punishment • Spanking • Darling has hair long enough to pull • Spitting • Oral/Deep Throating • PIV Sex • Anal/Anal Play • Double Penetration • Gangbang • Praise/Degradation • Humiliation • Dumbification • Overstimulation • Dom jjk men • Sub reader • Kinda fluffy? • Manipulation • Sadistic Satoru (kinda)
wc: A lot? Idk like 4k or more, I did half on google doc and half here lol
Porn with no plot, just straight porn.
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“Hey, Meg,” it’s bad. This entire day couldn’t be going more horribly wrong.
“Hn?” A soft grunt for someone covered in so much gore.
“Your old man care we’re in his quarters?” The white haired male had his eyes covered by a strange metal band, one usually connected to a helmet. He wore no head gear though, hardly any armor either. A testament to his confidence and strength.
“He doesn’t.” The dark haired male still dripping blood spoke back, but his eyes didn’t leave your cowering form.
“Well then shall we? I’ve been hard since I won my match. Be a shame to waste good meat when it’s offered up like this.” The vile and leering tone of the white haired devil above you only had your blood going icy. The cool wet stone beneath your aching knees and skinned up palms was a stark contrast to your boiling insides. They spoke as if you were akin to the animals kept beneath the Colosseum, as if you were livestock meant for slaughter and not a living person. You should’ve known better, your Master had been so eager to offer up a servant for the great Gladiator Toji upon the man’s request. It seemed odd to not send a more experienced servant… instead your Master sent you. A lesser slave and much more inexperienced… you now realize why after being sent below the arena you were only used to seeing from above.
Gladiators surely have earned their keep. Muscles and bared teeth, the Gladiators are warriors to their core, ready to spill blood and die at any moment.
A soft thing like you? They wanted to chew up and spit out. Swallow whole. Take you apart piece by piece until you knew nothing of your own name or life before. Except you were Toji’s and that meant something. Well, to everyone but the two younger males standing over you. The white haired male seemingly a bit older than the dark, the two close too as the older one leaned against his younger counterpart with a hand on his hip as he examined you behind his metal eye block. You knew who these two males were. Everyone knew who they were.
Satoru and Megumi, you’d only seen them from afar, not wealthy enough to afford to sit closer to the arena floor. Even from afar they left an impression though, at least on your soul.
Demons.
Creatures from hell which have proven unkillable. Megumi being Toji’s son, while Satoru acted as Megumi’s teacher. They ruled the arena, and it’s not a secret that Satoru is a noble’s son who willingly joined the Gladiators after serving in the Imperial military. Megumi too volunteered for his position, while his father stayed employed working off an endless debt due to a gambling addiction the wealthy enjoy feeding. His mountain of owed cash so overflowing it’s rumored he even owes to the Emperor himself.
Yet it didn’t explain why you were here like this. You’d been told indirectly from a stable hand that Toji wished you to clean and wait in his chambers, private unlike lower classed Gladiators. Instead you’d been grabbed and tossed to the floor by Satoru and spoken about before your very eyes. You weren’t a fool. What they, or at least Satoru wanted, was clear enough.
“I-I’m sorry if I offended m-my lords, p-please forgive—,” you were silenced by a hand raising, a slim perfect finger help up against plush pink lips. Satoru’s lips tilted up in amusement as he eyed you behind his shades.
“Nu-uh pretty, you be good and stay silent while we talk, okay?” He spoke to you as one would address a child, not how a man who was quickly untying his leather breaches might. He ignored your trembling form to return his attention to his pupil.
“She’s cuter close up like this, right Meg?” Satoru teased, happy to free his aching hard cock from the tight confines of his pants. He loved the look of fright in your wide doe eyes, a slight tremor to your bottom lip. “I’ve been craving to sink my cock into your little cunt for a while now.” He’s addressing you again, crouching down to get more to your eye level so you caught a flash of bright blue through the metal blocking his eyes. His grin is sadistic and jovial, sharp canines bared aggressively as he jerks his leaking shaft without shame while watching you.
“P-please don’t—hgh!” Your jaw is gripped in an iron lock by Satoru, who still smiles despite the furrow of his brow.
“Thought I said no talkin’? If I need’a say it again…” he leaves the threat open. You can only tearfully nod the best his grip allows, cheeks smushed and lips pursed cutely while your reddened eyes silently ask for mercy this time. His grip softens minutely, “Good girl~” he praises, smile becoming less vicious as he releases you to stand up again.
“Want her first Meg?” Satoru addresses the silent male, who stares down at you with the same intensity he held the moment you’d entered the chambers.
“Yes.” That chills you more than Satoru’s comment, Megumi’s demeanor more dark and strangely concerning as he steps towards you. You have a few options now, and your mind reminds you that if you don’t act now it’s entirely over for you. Your first option is to simply allow it to happen. You’re a slave with no status, and you’ve had your ownership transferred to a Gladiator in eternal debt with the most violent track record. These two before you have a close connection with your new owner, disobeying could mean death.
Then again obedience could mean it too.
You leapt, lucky enough to escape the hand reaching out to grab you as you sprinted for the door. The thick wooden frame made your muscles scream as you yanked it open, and just as your foot stepped through the threshold, you were yanked back by your hair. A sharp scream echoed off the stone walls, your legs kicking out in protest as you fought back wildly.
Megumi needle only one arm to yank you up off your feet and onto the low platform bed his father occasionally used to sleep on. It’s been weeks though since he’s bothered sleeping in his own chambers, more often than not bought home by a noble woman for the evening after matches to warm their bed for a steep price. He rolled his eyes at your dramatics, easily subduing you with a hand circling your neck and slowly decreasing your oxygen and blood flow.
It made you very compliant, much to his lower half’s enjoyment. The little whimpers and weak hands slapping at his chest were akin to a kitten’s attack.
“Let’s see here~” Satoru hums, quick to grip the fabric of your clothing between two hands and tear it down the middle. It was a useless endeavor to attempt to escape, as they chuckle and strip you entirely naked on the bed smelling of dust, sweat, and blood now. Both males haven’t showered, Megumi’s body the most blood soaked even after stripping. The metallic sour tinge to his masculine scent revolting as you turn your head away in disgust.
“Nu-uh~ bad girl, you keep your eyes on us, or I’ll just remove them from your skull. Okay?” It didn’t matter how terrified you were before, the thought of your eyes being removed had them snapping to the male who threatened you. He’d tossed aside his eye piece, letting you see the visibly beautiful face of a God it seemed smiling down at you. In a way he was a God, or at least blessed by one, his strength and power undeniable but wicked and cruel ways no less. One pale slender finger pressed against the side of your face, just under your eye, and Satoru took enjoyment seeing how quickly you froze up. “Be a good girl now, Meg hasn’t had a woman before, so you’ll both get to have your first! Isn’t that romantic?” It wasn’t, at least to you, but the almost dreamy look in the dark eyed male was unmistakable.
Megumi was certainly in a dream it seemed. How could he not be? You were here, beneath him, and completely naked and vulnerable to do as he pleased. Before today he was certain you didn’t know his name, or if you did it was merely from his matches. He knew your name though, said it a thousand times when he gripped his cock and worked himself over, moaning it while he came nearly every morning. He wouldn’t need to touch his cock anymore though. He had you now. Whether he needed to share you with his teacher or father wasn’t bothersome, it meant you had more eyes looking out for you anyway.
Satoru amused himself with scaring you senseless while Megumi parted your trembling thighs, settling his shoulders between them to keep you from closing them again. “Oh fuck,” he breathed, catching Satoru’s attention.
“Look how wet she is…” Megumi couldn’t bring himself to much else but admire your soaked cunt even as you mumbled quiet pleas and prayers.
“Oh? Are you a little pervert Y/N? Do you like the thought that we’re going to fuck you?” Satoru’s relentless, soft lips pressing close to your ear and whispering his intentions and insults against the shell while you writhe at the feeling of something soft and slimy poking through your folds. His tongue, you realize with a jolt of him licking up, grazing your sensitive little clit. Your gasp doesn’t go unnoticed by either male, and soon a wide chiseled chest blankets you as Satoru captures your lips in a heavy kiss and invasion of your mouth. Megumi focuses on your lower mouth though, fingers digging into the fat of your thigh as he struggles to retain his sanity as he loses himself to your taste and the erotic euphoria filling him. Every little wiggle and moan encourages him on where to lick and suck, and eventually his fingers sneak down and into your quivering wet hole.
“Mhm! P-plea—!” Satoru muffles all protest with his mouth, one free hand playing with your chest while you struggle to avoid the building pressure in your lower belly as Megumi relentlessly attacks your nub and hole. He flicks and meanly pinches and pulls your nipples, enjoying how your spine arches up each time he bullies them. He doesn’t let you avoid his kiss, and if you close your mouth he plugs your nose and forces it open again so his tongue can taste you.
It’s too much, and you’re coming much too quickly from their rough attention.
It doesn’t end though, only changes as Megumi lifts up, dark hair slightly limp and falling into his eyes as he softly smiles at you, much like a lover might despite the horrid situation. “So good f’me, think you can do it again for him?” He’s not really asking, as he switches places with Satoru who looks overjoyed and viscous as he stares at your quivering dripping pussy.
“Course she can, just listen.” Satoru laughs, messily rubbing your overly sensitive clit and eliciting a yelp from your swollen lips. The lewd wet noises produced from his heavy petting only increasing the shame building inside you as you tearfully whine and try to twist your hips away. “She’s soaking the bed too. We’re getting everything dirty anyway, let’s just fuck her up as much as possible.” You don’t understand what that means until two fingers sink all the way inside you without warning.
“Oh Gods!” Your short cry is silenced again when Megumi decides to kiss you. His lips more tentative and the taste slightly shocking until you realize you’re tasting yourself on his tongue. Despite all you wish for, it makes you tighten on Satoru’s fingers as he gleefully curls them up inside your gummy walls.
“Think she likes how she tastes.” The devilish comment only makes Megumi groan in response, pulling back slightly to reply. “She tastes fucking delicious.” He murmurs against you, stealing your breath again while your poor cunt is finger fucked by Satoru at a quick and forceful rate. Each thrust of his hand accompanied by a loud squelch as he uses his other hand to ensure you stay spread and still despite the panic striking you.
“Mh! S’too’—ngh!!!” Even as you squirm and cry, neither lets up until you’re breaking this time, orgasm so strong you feel your eyes roll back.
“That’s it pretty girl, cum for me,” Satoru nearly comes with you as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, fluid rapidly forced from the confines of your cunt and out as you squirt for him. It’s a sight for sore eyes, the cute fucked out expression on your face as they force your body to relax and lubricate itself for their pleasure.
You’re too out of it to notice the switch again, Megumi back between your thighs but this time holding his curved thick cock between his fingers. Gripping it, he pulls back the skin hiding his sensitive head, easily slicking the tip up. The bulbous soft head smushing against your clit and folds and dragging up and down as you squeak and tiredly roll your head to look up and down.
It’s too late to truly realize what’s happening until his hips are surging forward and the tight ring of muscle at the opening of your pussy is stretched wide open on his cock for the first time. Your scream is silent, mouth open but no noise leaving. Instead you hear Megumi’s moans, short gasps of pleasure huffed into the humid and heating room as he struggles to work his shaft into your tight canal either trying to suck him further in or force him out. Your contracting muscles and choked gasps only spur him to fuck deeper until you’re filled inch by inch with him.
He bottoms out eventually, your sweaty bodies tinged slightly pink as he rubs against you, smearing blood from the Gladiator he killed today on your skin now.
“Wow~ look at how well you’re taking him, here, I’ll help.” In your shock and daze, you’d nearly forgotten about Satoru. The male happy to lift you up and make you see the enormous cock now swallowed up inside you, filling you almost painfully as you shake. “How’s it feel Meg?” He asks, blue eyes looking at Megumi’s strained expression.
“G-good…” is all he can manage. It’s better than good, more than good will ever be, but it’s all he can choke out without snapping and fucking you roughly.
“Hm~ it’ll feel better if you play with her here,” Satoru guides, his striking blue gaze focused on you with a nearly malevolent intensity as you grit your teeth to attempt to adjust to the intrusion more gracefully. He ruins it though, skilled fingers dancing down your belly and right to where you’re most vulnerable. Your cry isn’t silenced this time as Satoru presses down on the fleshy pearl above your opening. Megumi’s clumsy thrusts have spread you to your limit while Satoru rubs your nub with calculated precision.
“F-forgive me…I-I’m sorry…” both males look to your face now, confusion painting Megumi’s flushed face while Satoru seems enamored.
“How cute~ what’re you apologizing for?” He doesn’t let up. His fingers give you no rest and Megumi’s jerky thrusts seem intent on staying as deeply buried as possible. “Shh, being s’good, relax for me.” Megumi murmurs close to your ear, leaning over you some as Satoru braces you from behind.
It’s too much. You’re clamping down tight around the hot shaft stuffed deep inside, muscles contracting almost painfully around him.
“Gods—fuck, she’s so tight,” he sounds in pain, his nails digging in more harshly into your flesh as Megumi struggles to withhold his orgasm. It’s useless, moments after your own crashes down, he’s spilling into you, thick spurts of cum filling your womb as you groan and lay limp in Satoru’s arms.
Megumi recovers faster than you though, kissing your tired sweaty face as you blearily stare up in a daze.
He finds it cute.
Satoru does too. Happy to simply pull you up under your arms like a rag doll and position over his lap and against his chest.
“I can’t—a-anymore, no more—,”
“Poor thing. Has no one told you it’s good to push your limits? I think you can. Should we see who is right?” Your pleading look is lost on Megumi who merely pats your hair down, face serene as he watches you. Satoru gives you no time to recover before he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and lifting you.
“No cryin’ now, I let Meg stretch you out good n’well, I don’t want any tears unless they’re from how good I’m fuckin’ you.” His grin is sinful as he lets gravity sink you on his cock, the low light of the candles on the wall giving the illusion of sunset across his pale pretty features.
“O-oh!” Satoru snickers a laugh as you moan in startled shock. His words not a lie as he stretches you out in a different way. Where Megumi had been thick and curved, Satoru was much longer, hitting so deep it felt like the air was knocked from your lungs. It was enough a surprise to have you holding onto him, making the white haired Gladiator coo at you.
“Look at you~,” he’s not gentle as he bounces you on his cock. “Am I just so deep in this pussy? She seems to like how I fill her out, she’s just gushin’ all over me.” He holds onto the fat of your ass, hands spread wide to help anchor and rock you as he thrusts up. “Stay awake, pretty girl, remember what I told you? Eyes on me.” It’s difficult to concentrate on his husky voice when it seems he’s intent on breaking you, each time his shaft struck deep inside you swore your vision blurred. This wasn’t the slow overwhelming pleasured pain forced on you by Megumi… this was just rough sloppy sex with a maniac. Nevertheless, you do as told as try to keep your eyes open and on Satoru. His gaze didn’t waver like yours, despite the sweat sliding down his cheek, he never lost his arrogant smile or sparkle in his eyes.
A stark contrast to the lax expression you wore, lips parted and wet as you struggle to even swallow as you tearily moan like a whore in a brothel for these Gladiators using you like a sex toy. Your fucked out face and impending orgasm are what send Satoru over the edge. When your soft warm pussy creams around him and your eyes cross, Satoru can’t help but nearly whimper as his balls draw up tight and he fills you up along with Megumi’s earlier load.
The dark haired male seemingly content to watch or occasionally praise and pet sweetly while Satoru savagely used you.
It’s over, it must be over, you think as Satoru pulls out of you slowly with a soft pop, lifting you up and off to the side to lay you down. You can feel their combined releases leak down your thighs, soft hiccups escaping you as you catch your breath and come down from the intense high.
You feel nearly hollow as both men stand and begin loosely dressing, holstering their weapons back into their bodies as they prepare to simply leave.
It hurts worse despite all else.
“Pretty girl looks heartbroken Meg, should we stay?”
“Not when he’s coming back from a match, we need to meet with the Emperor before he goes back to the Palace.” Megumi shakes his head, his gaze softening when it lands on you.
“We’ll be back in a few hours, be good.”
They’re gone after those words, and while your heart filled with fury and humiliation, your eyes burned with sadness and something akin to loneliness. Just as you’d finished wallowing in self pity, ready to pull yourself together again and clean up both yourself and the mess made, the door opens again.
Both of you freeze, though for different reasons.
Toji froze because he’d forgotten he’d had you sent here, and you froze because a monster was standing before you.
Your scream is muffled before it leaves your lips, one single palm covering nearly your entire face as Toji looms over you in his full arena battle armor, the black intricately designed metal dripping crimson as he drops his weapon to the ground with a clang.
“Non’a that shit. Hear me, girl?” You nod weakly to show you listened.
Once he was sure you weren’t planning to scream his ears off more than the crowds already did, he released you and took another look.
Cute and well fucked is his first appraisal. He briefly recalls Megumi telling him his wish to have you, so it’s not strange his kid had jumped on his new slave so quickly. The marks littering you were likely that asshole’s doing, his kid too soft to be anything but be sweet towards the object of his affection. Toji briefly considered getting paid for his services tonight, but he was tired, and you looked fresh enough still.
“They fuck you good?” His question brought a baffled look to your face, amusing him as he begins unfastening his ties and removing his armor. You stay awestruck before him as he slowly sheds his persona in the arena, his laid back rugged appearance quite handsome up close as he towers over you with both height and brawn.
“M-master—,” you would either be killed or sold, there’s no way—
“You think you can handle me too?”
You stand nude before your new master still dripping the cum of his son and peer, and he asks if he can have a turn too?
“Yeah. I think you can.” He answers himself in your state of shock, and despite the sweat and blood coating him, he’s unabashed as he strips naked and corrals you back onto the bed.
“M-master please, I-I need to clean up! A-and sh-should run you a bath!” You were grasping at straws, frantically trying to escape the beastly male now licking his lips with a smirk, the scar in his mouth tugging up. You make the mistake of looking down, only to see the monster he contained beneath his armored belt.
Why was it so big? The girth alone frightened you, his length even longer than Satoru’s too, the veins running along the enormous shaft made your poor slick cunt still dripping cum clench. He’d break you. There’s not a doubt in your mind as you crawl away, his advance never slowing as he chuckles at your display.
“I don’t see why ya can’t clean after, hn?” He descends like a wolf to prey, easily pinning you down on your back, slotting his body between your thighs and forcing them open painfully wide to accommodate his size. “Don’t even need’t prep, still drippin’ huh?” He smiles, lazily grabbing his heavy appendage and lubricating himself through your folds.
“P-please master, it won’t fit—hah!” Your cry of shock only makes him sink faster and deeper into you, pressing and forcing himself into your cunt which protests the weighty thick invasion of the older male above you. He smells like the earth, like soft dirt and grass, metallic like copper, and sweat. Toji watches as your back arches further and further up, the sharp angle not looking entirely pleasant but it pushes your bust up for him to lean over and capture a perky nipple to suckle on, his teeth grazing the tip and groaning as your cunt spasms around him.
“Never understand why women say it won’t fit,” Toji mumbles against your saliva covered tit, strings of it still connected to his mouth as he casually addresses you despite pulling out and making you feel like he’s going to take your insides with it. “Y’can push a baby through here, my cock isn’t as big as that.” Not the point, but you’re too feverish to pay attention any longer as he begins sliding in easier and easier as the combined releases from earlier lube his cock to fuck you.
He sees the strain on your face, the shaking of your thighs and the tears leaking down your cheeks again. Generously, Toji lifts up under both your knees and hoists you higher, holding your lower half up and allowing himself to slide deeper. The girlish squeal you release only has his hips snapping harder, working his cock in as deep as he can, feeling the stress of the day melt in your soft tight pussy. He grunts as you cum, mouth open as drool escapes down your chin, cute wet moans so soft and breathy as you shudder and gasp.
“That feel good?” He smiles, the dopey expression on your face too cute for him not to bend down and capture your lips this time. Sucking and nibbling on your lips till they’re swollen before he delves his tongue into your hot mouth, his tongue taking up too much space until you’re squirming for air. He denies you it, swirling around your own pink appendage while rocking you with each thrust, rolling his hips expertly until your eyes are going crossed and you’re meeting his thrusts with your own. When your hands move to touch him, he restrains them, curling his much larger hands around your own and putting them beside your head while he presses you up and down into a mating press.
“Oh gods,” you can only cry for mercy, begging for more or less you aren’t sure, as he languidly pumps his cock into you until you don’t know up from down.
“No gods here girl, just this fucking tight little cunt y’got here, beggin’ f’another load.” You can’t even shake your head, in fact you find you wouldn’t mind it, the feeling of his hot seed spilling into you. He’s pressed you down so well you can’t even wiggle your hips, only moan and whine waiting for him to speed up, to fuck you harder.
He doesn’t. Just keeps the same steady pace and rhythm, balls slapping your ass at the same time, slimy and wet with all the mixed fluids your cunt has forced out by Toji’s invasion. Toji ignores your nonverbal cues for more, smirk still the same as he even occasionally grinds in deep to watch your eyes widen and lips part. The soft squishy leaking tip of his cock continuously smushing up against the soft barrier of your cervix, ready to spill his load and fill your womb.
“Master~” you begin to lose it completely, arching up as well as you can to press your chest to him, “Harder! Please fuck me! Please, harder please—,” a mindless chant for more, just a little more, to push you into that crest of euphoria where you crave to be again.
Who is he to deny such cute lewd begging?
Toji laughs, grin bared like a wild animal as he leans even more weight down on you before picking up his pace, pounding you into the mattress while your eyes roll back into your skull and you scream your impending orgasm. It hits you so hard you pass out for a moment, vision completely darkening as waves of pleasure engulf you.
Toji spills his load not long after, groaning deep in his throat as he releases as deep into you as possible, hips stilling and locking against your groin to ensure your cunt doesn’t waste a drop.
“Hey,” you’re too out of it, as he taps your cheek and only receives a blissed out smile and clouded vision. Just as he prepares to pull out and give himself a minute before fucking you again, his door opens.
“Boo~! You stretched her poor pussy out with that thing. I wanted to play with it again.” Satoru whines, blue eyes narrowed in childish petulance.
“Shut up, brat.” Toji rolls his eyes, cocking a brow at Megumi who moves silently around to check on you. His small smile at the pretty expression you wore grew, looking so fondly down at you it made Toji’s teeth ache.
“Hey~ Meg, you gonna use her? Otherwise I will~” Satoru begins undressing shamelessly, Toji’s exasperated glower ignored as the white haired male joins them in bed, tapping his hard cock on your puffy slick lips, letting you taste his salty precum.
“Fucking brats.” Despite his words, Toji feels his cock hardening again inside your warmth, giving a few short hard thrusts into your cunt to fully harden. He grips your hips and rolls so you rest on his chest, digging his fingers into the fat of your ass and spreading your cheeks for the two younger males to see.
“She’s got another hole that can be filled.” Toji grunts, beginning a slow a pace sensual pace inside you, more rocking than actual thrusts as you mewl against the hard planes of his chest. Satoru shivers, licking his lips as he brings his face down to where your puckered back entrance rests untouched. He’s unbothered by Toji’s thick cock spreading your pussy open, opening his mouth and letting his tongue prod your ass while you jolt and tremble in Toji’s hold.
“Easy girl, ain’t gonna hurt.” He mumbles, roughly petting your hair while you turn your face away to look back, only to feel fingers gently tangle in your hair.
“Here,” you’re being fed more cock, Megumi’s leaking swollen tip smearing his fluids across your closed lips until they open and he can plunge into your mouth’s warm depths with a moan. Your mind slowly goes blank again, the earlier feeling of panic fading as Satoru plays with your ass, using your own cum as lube and spreading it over the hole before playfully pressing his thumb into the tight space.
You moan around Megumi’s cock, the shaft sinking deeper into your throat while Toji fucks you a little faster, feeling you tighten with Satoru’s intrusion.
They play like that for a while, slowly speeding up before becoming languid again, turning you into a soft wet mess in their hold as Satoru finally lines his cock up with your free hole, groaning loudly as he fails to press inside. A sharp slap to your ass tears you free from your bliss, the pain biting but making the pleasure stand out more as Satoru looks at your hole in irritation. “Hey, sluts should just relax, let me in,” he complains, slapping your ass again and making you do the opposite and tighten.
“Shit, tight fucking pussy,” Toji moans, moving you up and down his shaft faster while Satoru tries again, spitting on his dick lewdly and pressing the tip back at your hole, hips driving forward and finally breeching. “Ngh—!” Satoru nearly cums on the spot, feeling the tight ribbed walls of your ass strangling his cock as he spears you open.
You’re so full it’s unbelievable, head empty and completely blank while feeling two thick cocks open you up while Megumi continues to fuck your mouth.
You can’t say a word, only feel as Satoru sets the pace while Toji helps rock you back and forth. With your hips occupied with Toji’s hands, Satoru instead wraps his long slender fingers around your neck, dragging you away from Megumi, loose enough for you to breathe but tight so he can draw you up against his chest as he drives into your tight sphincter with short jerky thrusts, lips pressed against your ear as he groans low in his throat. Megumi stands, perfect height with you lifted like this to comfortably slip his cock back into your mouth and down your throat. It’s too much and not enough at the same time, the slow clapping of skin and trembling movements, no one wanting this to end too soon while you writhe and jerk in their hold as they use you.
“I think you like being our little whore, huh?” Satoru whispers in your ear like a demon. “Feeling us all fill your filthy holes, making you our pretty slut to fuck however we want.” He’s so deep inside you, hips flush with your ass he stretches you on his cock, the thin skin separating him and Toji continuously stretched and rubbed from inside. A mess of fluids coated you all from below, so much so it was all wet squelching and moans from the languid movements of the gladiators. “Bet you’d like it if we just chained you up to fill all your holes, right Princess?” His condescending tone is lost on you as you feel your lower belly tighten painfully, the fullness becoming more evident as you get closer to your end.
“Don’t tease her,” Megumi huffs, looking fondly at Satoru with a hint of exasperation. “She’s being so good, taking all of us so well,” he feels you swallow around his rod, eyes fluttered closed as he thrusts into your mouth. “We should reward her.”
Toji chuckles, knowing exactly what the two were up to.
“Oh~? How should we reward our little cum Princess then?” You stutter as you feel Toji shift his hand and press down on your belly, body shaking as your eyes watered. Your hands were useless trying to push him away, only feeling his cock twitch and flex inside of you while he smiled.
“She looks close, should help her finish.” Megumi huffs, his own end nearing as you slobber and choke on his cock.
“Hmm~ guess I’ll be nice, this time,” he breathes the last bit in your ear threateningly, but the seductive undertone has you shaking in a way that isn’t from fear. Satoru releases one hand from around your throat to dip down until he can swirl his finger around your swollen sensitive clit. It’s already covered in slick, easily letting him press and grind down, feeling you buck and moan in their grasp beautifully.
“You gonna cum Princess? All over our cocks?” Satoru has you clutched close as he fucks you, helping forcing you down on Toji’s cock while you groan around Megumi’s length. “Cum for us, let us ruin you.” It’s like he’s a prophet for the Gods, because when you do cum, you do feel ruined. Megumi’s hips stutter as you gluck and allow his cock even deeper, his balls drawing tight as he floods your throat with his cum.
Satoru and Toji cum shortly after, grunting and moaning their own finishes while you’re cradled limply against Toji’s chest now, eyes unfocused as you’re filled again and again.
Your dreams provide you with sweet relief, as you’re left unconscious in Megumi’s arms as he cleans you in a warm bath he’s pulled and heated.
“No fun~ she looked cuter covered in cum.” Satoru grins, but his smitten expression isn’t missed by Megumi who shakes his head with a smile.
“She won’t sleep good like that.” Is all he says, gently washing you clean and drying you off to take to bed. The bed Toji hardly ever uses now occupied by four occupants.
Toji watches in silence as you’re laid down, Megumi calmly sliding in while Satoru flatly lays at the bottom of the bed.
“Sure you want her?” Toji asks as the silence descends on them all.
Megumi’s dark gaze flicks up to his father.
“Hmph, acting like you don’t?” He challenged back, only to be met with a smirk and a heavy hand landing on top his head, making Satoru cackle.
You awake clean and warm, with a new pristine silver chain wrapped around your ankle and chained into the stone wall.
Satoru wasn’t kidding.
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Dividers by @benkeibear
If you liked this, please reblog!♡ It is what sustains me, well, coffee too but reblogging is the dominant factor—
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razzle-n-dazzle · 4 months
Note
saw u wanted more Adam fics
Adam x f!reader
reader is trying to sleep but Adam keeps trying to show her and tell her stuff. “Like babe hey babe look at this!”
“Babe babe wait did I tell you?”
“Babe holy shit wait guess what!!”
*meanwhile she screams into her pillow*
ᯓ★ "Adam, Love, SHUT THE F-" Adam / Reader | Drabble-ish
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ᯓ Do you know those days where you just need a little piece and quiet? Like after a long day of work, where your boss was being unreasonable and your coworkers were being even more unbearable than usual. A long day when you go out to eat for lunch and yet the place you decide to go is busy more than usual, and of course it's on the one day you just wanted an easy meal, so you decide to sit and wait. What is the harm of that? Apparently, a lot. Especially when everyone has a stick shoved up their ass today, and when running over your lunch would have been understood and excused any day sparked a fire from Hell in Heaven. And it was only my five minutes! You were late to the office by five minutes despite having been sitting, waiting for lunch for twenty out of your thirty allotted minutes, and doing work to be ahead of schedule for your boss! You were late by five minutes because the sidewalks had been unreasonably crowded for that time of day and you had sprained your wing rushing not to be late earlier that morning because your boyfriend wanted to be up your ass for an extra five minutes this morning!
ᯓ Safe to say you just proved that there could be bad days in Heaven, no matter what anyone else said and you desperately needed a nap. Or maybe you just needed to knock out for the rest of the day, you weren't sure, all you knew was that your bed was calling your name and that was the only thing on your mind right now. Well, it had been the only thing on your mind until you stepped foot into your shared apartment. "Oh perfect fucking timing, Sugartits, come here!" Adam, with an obnoxious amount of energy today, waved you down to the couch. "Hurry up! You know I love to see that ass move when it walks, but this is super fucking important." And what could entertaining your boyfriend before you went and knockout for the rest of the night do? You mean, it was only thing he wanted to show you.
ᯓ "Fucking, look. Look!" Adam exclaimed as you heavily sat down next to him, allowing for him to cheekily swing an arm around your shoulder. This promptly led him to lean against you as he stuck his phone out, a video pulled up. You watched it to entertain him and his little fancy for whatever he had found; Being able to snuggle into his side in the process and listen to his hysterical laughter during the whole venture. It wasn't nothing too exciting, some sort of slapstick humor video and you understood why Adam found it hilarious, but you just didn't have the energy to laugh at it today. So you gave him a small chuckle as his arm found itself crossing down your back and wrapping around your hip, his hand resting on your thigh. "Oh fucking shit! You see, now that shit if fucking humor, comedy gold!" You needed whatever acid trip Adam was on and desperately.
ᯓ You would hum briefly in agreement towards his statement, feeling as his chest quickly rose and fall as he choked out laughter. Even with such motions you couldn't help but be drawn in by his warmth, snuggling closer to him. And you're sure he noticed, as he was sneakily trying to coax you more and more, using the hand that now was daringly close to your ass, to sit on his lap. Against his harsher, more lively breath, yours was slower and shallow, and as Adam managed to get you to snuggle up to his chest while on his lap, he took notice. It was hard to not to, especially when the sound of you not laughing with him just hit his ears. So confused, Adam would pear down at you. A few nervous bits of laughter left him, a silent signal for you to take notice of how he noticed your odd behavior, yet he died down as you didn't seem to notice (or care) much. Which caused his eyes to narrow and his eyebrows to frown up, a worried frown tugging onto the side of his lips. "Uh, Babe, you good?" His question was accompted by his gravely voice, which was now lower in volume and a lot less sure of himself. "You didn't fucking laugh at the video."
ᯓ "You do know this is comedy gold right? Gold! Not laughing at it would be a fucking crime." Adam would wave his cellphone near your face, flashing you with the bright light which caused you to promptly turn your head away from him. He noticed as your face scrunched, yet you didn't use your wings or hands to knock the phone out of his hand like usual. And that's when he really started to become concern. You weren't acting as you normally would with him, you weren't laughing at the videos he founded or retorting to his antics with your own. You were just laying there, curled up onto his lap with droopy wings and a weak hold around his chest. "Holy shit, Babe, you're not dying are you?" Was the first thing that blurted out of Adam's mouth, being the first thing thought that crossed his head as finally took a real notice of how bad of a state you're in. How the feathers on your wings seemed all out of sorts, how one wing was a little more puffed than the other, how eyebags had began to form under your eyes, and just how tired and weak you looked.
ᯓ "...and you're not getting fucking ugly either are you? It's not contagious is it? Because I can't be fucking ug-" You were swift to cut Adam off, pressing one of your hands against his mouth to muffle any more stupid shit he had to say in this moment. To which Adam drew back a little and started down at you, a moment of shock before unamusement crossed his face. He was gentle, more so than usual, as he picked up your hand by the wrist and drug it away from his mouth. Though he didn't say anything for a good moment, silently (and a little anxiously) waiting to see if you would say anything to him. And maybe it was the nerves on being the on the battle field too many times, or the anxiety of losing another lover, but Adam grew more and more disturbed at your lack of communication or movement the longer the silence wore on. "Babe," He gently nudged you, watching as you just let yourself roll back into place. You didn't even give a hum that time. Now Adam could feel his stomach doing little backflips. "Babe." This one came out a bit more stern as he nudged you a little harder. Yet, you only rolled back into place, not acknowledging his efforts on trying to make sure you weren't dying. Were you fucking dying? Holy shit, that would not be something Adam would want to go through today. "Babe! Sugartits!" Adam shouted, forcefully shoving you away from his warmth by the shoulders, "Please fucking tell me you're not about to die on me because that would be really fucking traumatic!.. If you're going to die at least do it in like, the bedroom or something!"
ᯓ You knew Adam didn't mean it, that he was just trying to stir a reaction out of you to make sure you were alright, yet his comment kind of pissed you off. Less so than when he forcefully drew you away from your only source of heat and comfort from the cruel reality you had to live today. So, reluctantly, you gave our a murmur, "...tired... shut up.." and forcefully tried to lay against Adam again; Trying to just take a small nap, or simply hide from the day you had today in your boyfriend's arms and warmth. Even if one of his hands had been resting on your ass. "Babe, you can't be fucking tired, it's not even dinner. Who the fuck is going to cook because last time I fucking remember you telling me I couldn't." Adam asked in a huff, though was silently relieved that you weren't just about to die in his arms like some dramatic soap opera. So, he let you lay back against his chest. It felt nice to have your weight there anyways. "Adam... shush.." Again, you tried to hush your rather obnoxious boyfriend, even for a little. And you knew he knew that you were tired, on the verge of passing out; It was a dead give away when he fluffed out his wings and wrapped them around you, noticing had dead you felt against him.
ᯓ "But you're still fucking making dinner though, right?" He would quip, a snicker growing on his dumb face as he leaned down to the side, promptly laying you both down. Now you knew he was just being a dick about it, that or he was just glad that you weren't silently suffering and dying against his chest. But either way, you were going to leave his question unanswered as you buried his head against his chest. No matter how much shit Adam might give you, you always found comfort in his warmth and with him being near. It was kind of like having an annoying dog that looked and sounded all tough and scary and was sometimes a big dick, but secretly cared about you under all the gunk. "Fuck it, I'll just order in." Adam muttered, placing his chin on the top of your head (having to curl around you a little to do so) as you were sure he began to pull up menus of restaurants nearby that delivered. And as you drifted off to sleep, you liked to believe he did so, so you didn't have to worry about cooking when you woke up. But you knew that was only half the truth, the other half was that he was probably craving those lamb chops he absolutely adores. And you were fine with that.
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ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.
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