#I'll try to stave it off

[superpeanutgarden]

I learned that one of my professors is literally two days younger than me today?? I thought he was at least a couple years older than me it's interesting. He looked to me for confirmation that the years between 20 and 25 hit you like a truck (they really do) and then I asked him how old he was and it turns out that yeah, his birthday is two days after mine.

(Its not ethical to ask a professor out, Superpeanut lets a crush simmer challenge: level impossible)(gonna just focus on being the cool older chick in class)(teach the younger queer kids about makeup and shit)

[synoicus]

I think in another life I would've been a really great streamer, but not in the 'I want to become a streamer' way. In the 'in some fucked up timeline I'm quail824 and I have a small fortune thanks to my followers who continually pelt me with rocks every single day' way

[vampiricsheep]

gd. open tear-free sobbing with my face against a door bc I stepped outside with the contact lenses and the night is so much more beautiful

[take-ya-to-the-ghey-bar]

hhhhh-- i was hoping to write some more stuff tonight, since i'll probably be heading out early tomorrow when a friend comes to pick me up... but i still feel so sleepy that all i wanna do is curl up and doze off...

[unbrcakablc-hcart]

Whyyyyy do I feel off. I don't even know how to explain how I feel off outside of "it's a physical thing for sure".

[kitkatscabinet]

MURDER ON THE DANCEFLOOR

requested by anon

pairing: dick grayson x fem! reader

summary: He hands you his drink, a simple, innocent gesture. Twenty minutes later, you're unresponsive in his arms, and what started as a pleasant night evolves into the worst moment of his life.

word count: 5.6k

"I hate these things." Dick grumped, fiddling with his tie for the hundredth time that night.

You reached up to swat his hands away gently. "What, the tie or the gala?"

"Both." He whines, grabbing one of your hands and tangling your fingers with his.

"You say that every time Bruce drags you to one of these, you're such a baby." You mock, leaning in to peck his pouty lips.

His lips twitch with the effort it takes to keep pretending to frown. "You know, I'm starting to think you keep showing up on my arm just because you like watching me suffer."

"You caught me," you grin slyly before adjusting his tie properly, "Or maybe I just like seeing you in a tux."

His breath hitches, adoration painted across his face as he leans closer, "That so? You’re not so bad yourself, y’know. Very distracting."

You rolled your eyes, trying to appear nonchalant, but you couldn't prevent the flutter in your stomach at his attention. It was hardly your first gala together, Dick had seen you dressed up plenty of times before, but everytime he looked at you as if you were a goddess.

He drapes an arm over your shoulder, pulling you snug against his side. "Let’s just get through this thing. Then it’s you, me, some cheap Chinese takeout, and most importantly, no pants."

"Oh, baby, you really know how to treat a woman." You giggled, kissing his jaw and leaving a lipstick stain that he either doesn't notice or doesn't care to wipe off.

The two of you stay like that, standing on the fringes of the room, content to ignore everyone else, until you spot Cass looking longingly at the dancefloor.

"Dick," you nudged him, "you should dance with Cassie."

You can tell he's hesitant to leave you, but Cassie clearly wants to dance and Dick would do anything to make his siblings happy. "Take this?" He holds out the drink he'd been nursing for 10 minutes but had yet to touch.

"Why, Mr Grayson, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get me drunk." You joked, gently tugging him closer by the lapels of his jacket.

He grins as you steal a kiss just before lifting the rim of the glass to your lips. "Moscato?" You raise a brow at the choice, your favourite, "You really were planning this."

"I didn't say drink it." He tries to play innocent, but you both know he's been waiting to hand it off to you. You give the liquid a swirl before taking another sip, relishing in the sweet taste as it coats your tongue.

"Now go on, dance with your sister."

Dick’s still smiling when he leans in, brushing your cheek with a kiss. "I’ll be back in a minute."

"I'll count the seconds." You joke, waving him off like a woman seeing her husband off for war, delighting in the way Cassandra lights up as Dick leads her onto the floor.

With Dick gone, Tim sidles up to your side seamlessly, your own sleepy little guard dog as he eyes the other gala goers mistrustfully.

You snort before pulling him into your side, which he readily accepts. Your heart swells with affection for the boy you'd come to view as your own little brother.

You take another drink, trying to stave off your sudden bout of cotton mouth. When that doesn't work, you clear your throat before downing the rest of your glass.

Tim gives you an odd look, but you wave off his concern, "just a little thirsty." You don't admit that your throat is suddenly drier than the Sahara as you take a glass of water from the nearest waiter.

You take slow sips, but no matter what you do, your tongue still feels like paper. Annoying, but not unbearable, an unfortunate side effect you sometimes suffered when drinking.

A few minutes pass, and you start to think something might be wrong when your vision blurs a little. You unconsciously lean slightly against Tim, who startles as he feels the heat emanating from you. Placing the back of his palm against your forehead, before you can stop him. "Jesus, you're hot."

"Careful Timmers, wouldn't wanna make Dick jealous." You joke weakly, fanning yourself with your free hand as the heat crawls down the back of your neck and chest. "Though, it is kind of hot in here."

"I guess." Tim seemed a little unconvinced, pulling out of your grip, only for you to stumble. "Oh wow, I think you might've had a bit too much to drink."

"Hmm, maybe." You agree even if you don't remember having that much. You turn your head, wincing a little as the light reflects harshly from the chandeliers into your eyes.

"Ok, I think it's time we get you home." You nod your head, only to immediately regret it when the world spins a little bit.

"What's this? My little brother is trying to abscond with my girlfriend? Say it ain't so." Dick suddenly appeared, a hint of worry hiding behind his good natured demeanour.

You beam, going to embrace your boyfriend, only to trip when your ankle wobbles. Your heart thumps wildly against your chest, as you lean heavily against Dick's chest.

You don't see the alarmed glances Tim and Dick exchange, keeping your eyes closed to try and abate the odd pressure building up behind them.

Dick says something, hand cupping your jaw as he keeps your head upright, but you don't hear it. His voice is muffled, as if he is trying to speak to you through water.

He seems worried, but you don't understand why; everything's so floaty.

"I'm fine... think I just need to... to" you trail off, losing your train of thought.

"Hey—hey, no, no, no. Stay with me." Dick’s voice cuts through the haze, low and urgent, a stark contrast to the earlier soft teasing you’d shared over stolen kisses and that glass of Moscato.

His hand is warm against your jaw, gently cradling it, thumb brushing your cheek as he keeps your head propped up.

Despite your best efforts, your vision slips in and out of focus. All you can see is Dick's face, so pretty even in his panic. You don't want him to look at you like that, you never want him to be upset, you want him happy, always.

You try to tell him that, but your tongue refuses to cooperate. You don't know why he's so frantic; you're just a little overheated. Your mouth finally opens, but you can't remember what you wanted to say. The thought, whatever it was, slips from your grasp like sand.

Your legs suddenly give out, the new glass of water you'd been clutching slipping from your lax grasp and shattering against the marble floor.

Dick is already moving, catching you before you hit the ground. His arms wrap tightly around you, cushioning your fall.

"Hey, hey—look at me. Look at me, baby."

The sound is distant to your ears, as if from another world entirely. But the commotion grabs the attention of the nearby gala goers, and alarmed whispers reach Bruce's ears from across the room just in time for him to witness his eldest catch you and sink to the floor.

He forgets his charming, genial mask, shoving through scandalised socialites as he runs to reach his son.

Tim's already calling an ambulance, and Damian has appeared suddenly as if from thin air, snarling at anyone attempting to get a closer look.

Dick is hysterical, tears in his eyes as he holds your face in his hands as he tries to get you to respond, but any words he can elicit from you are slurred and confused.

His son doesn't even register his presence until he's kneeling opposite him, clasping a grounding hand on his shoulder. Dick looks up at him, tears sliding down his devastated face. "Bruce, Dad, help her, please!" He begs, voice cracking.

Bruce inhales sharply, the word Dad hitting him like a freight train. Dick hadn’t called him that in months. Years, maybe. It's a word he'd secretly ached to hear for so long, but not like this, not tinted with raw desperation.

Bruce inhales sharply at that, at his son desperately looking at him to fix something they're both powerless to combat.

"She’s going to be okay," Bruce tells him, quietly, as if trying to soothe a wounded animal.

"You can't know that! You can't promise me that!"

Dick looks down at you, taking in the way you gasped raggedly for air, pupils blown wide as you twitch in his grasp.

"Dick." Bruce squeezed his shoulder, grounding him and forcing him back to the present moment. "The ambulance will be here soon. She's still breathing and still has a pulse, she's going to be okay."

"She just... she just collapsed," Dick babbles, as if he hadn't even heard Bruce. "She was fine when I left her, she was, she was fine! But when I got back she couldn't, couldn't breathe - "

"She’s breathing," Bruce murmurs, his hand pressed lightly to your neck. "Pulse is faint, but still there."

"She couldn’t focus. She can’t speak, Bruce." Dick sounds like he’s on the verge of a panic attack. "I don’t... I don’t know what’s happening!"

Bruce doesn’t answer right away. Not because he doesn’t care—God, he cares so much it aches—but because he doesn’t know, and that terrifies him.

Dick is muttering, a mindless stream of thoughts as he clutches you tighter against his chest. "I gave her my drink," he stammers suddenly, as if the memory just struck him. "I didn’t touch it, I just… handed it to her. It was moscato, she likes moscato."

He looks up at Bruce, haunted. "Did I do this? Did I—was it the drink? Or—what if it was something else, what if something's wrong with her heart, or she's sick or something, she was unwell last week. I don't know. I don’t know."

Bruce doesn’t answer right away. Not yet. His mind is already spinning, cataloguing symptoms, possibilities: low blood sugar, dehydration, cardiac event, something neurological. The possibilities were endless.

"We’re going to figure it out," he tells Dick quietly. "Help will be here soon, she'll be ok son."

"She has to be," Dick whimpers, thumb brushing over your cheekbones, and then a little quieter. "She promised me forever."

Bruce watches, his heart in his throat as he watches Dick's hand absentmindedly reach into his pocket for something. Was that... a ring?

That train of thought is abruptly derailed when the paramedics finally arrive.

Dick tries to stay with you as they check your vitals, his hand gripping yours like a vice even as you're lifted onto a stretched and rolled into the back of the ambulance.

One medic tries to gently pull him back, but he doesn’t budge, refusing to leave your side. "I’m staying," he snaps, voice low and dangerous. The paramedic hesitates, glancing at his colleague, who just nods their assent.

"Just stay out of our way," he mutters, but Dick barely hears him, already sinking onto the bench beside the gurney, white-knuckled fingers still wrapped around yours. 

"She was fine," he whispers to no one in particular. "Twenty minutes ago, she was teasing me about getting her drunk. We were laughing."

He can't stop the tears from falling any longer when they attach an oxygen mask, your eyelids fluttering open and closed at random intervals.

"Stay with me, please, baby, just hang in there." He begs you feverishly. Your head lolls toward him, something like recognition flashing in your eyes before it's gone again in a blink. 

"Miss," the second paramedic says suddenly, gently lifting one of your eyelids and shining a small penlight into your eyes. "Miss, can you hear me?"

"Pupils are dilated. Sluggish response," he mutters, more to his partner now. "Could be neurological."

Dick’s stomach drops. "Neurological? Like what, a stroke?"

"We won’t know until we get her stable. It could be toxins. It could be a reaction to something. Could be—" The medic stops himself, shooting Dick a look. "Could be a lot of things."

"She didn’t take anything," Dick says quickly, defensively. "She doesn’t even like taking Tylenol without checking with her doctor first."

"You gave her a drink?" the other medic asks.

Dick nods slowly. "Moscato. Mine. I hadn’t touched it; I was holding it for too long. I didn’t want to waste it—" He swallows. "She was happy. She kissed me. She was fine."

You let out a soft, breathless sound. Not quite a moan. Not quite a word. But it yanks Dick forward like a lifeline, his hand tightening around yours.

"Hey, hey, I’m here," he says urgently. "Babe, can you hear me? Just squeeze my hand, yeah? Just let me know you can hear me."

You don’t respond, you can’t, and Dick nearly starts to sob again. Helpless to do anything but watch and pray to a god he doesn’t believe in, as the paramedics work around him. He rests your clasped hands against his lips, rocking restlessly back and forth as he watches for any change in your condition. 

Your eyes flutter weakly open for half a second, glassy and unfocused, and he leaps to reassure you. "I’ve got you," he whispers, running his free hand gently down your cheek. "I swear, I’ve got you. Just stay with me."

Your fingers twitch—the smallest, weakest movement, but Dick clings to that like a lifeline. His hand tightens around yours, and you suddenly twitch again, your whole body flinching as your eyelids blink rapidly.

"Hey, sweetheart." His voice shakes as he leans forward, cupping your cheek again. "You with me?"

Your eyes are wide open, but they’re not focused, unseeing as you stare right through him before abruptly attempting to recoil. "Don’t touch me!" you gasp, trying to pull your hand away, though he doesn’t let go. "Get off me, get—"

"Hey, hey, it’s me!" Dick says quickly, panic clawing up his throat. "It’s me. It’s Dick, you’re safe, baby, you’re safe."

You’re thrashing now, feeble but undoubtedly panicked. Your pupils are blown wide, nearly swallowing the colour of your irises. 

"There’s someone! He’s behind you, Dick!" you sob suddenly, eyes locked on the corner of the ambulance where no one sits. "He’s watching me, he’s watching me. Stop looking at me—"

"There’s no one there," Dick breathes, helpless. "There’s no one there, I promise, I swear—"

One of the medics leans over. "Hallucinations. She’s panicking, we need to sedate her before she hurts herself."

"No," Dick says reflexively. "She’s scared. She needs to know she’s not alone. She doesn’t like being sedated."

"She can’t hear you right now," the paramedic says gently, already preparing a sedative. "You have to let us do our job."

You scream again, incoherent, like you’re fighting something only you can see. "I’m right here. I’m not leaving," he says, voice trembling. "You’re okay, I’ve got you. There’s no one else here, just me. It’s just me."

But you don’t hear him, head thrashing from side to side, murmuring something over and over, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. His heart splinters.

"Give it to her," he says quietly. "If it’ll help her stop being afraid... do it."

The sedative enters your bloodstream through the IV, and your breathing begins to slow within moments. Your muscles go slack, and your face's tension eases slightly.

Dick swallows hard, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand once more.

"I’m right here," he whispers. "You’re safe now. Whatever you’re seeing… It’s not real. I promise. I won’t let anything hurt you." But the words feel cheap and hollow against his tongue, because he’s already failed to keep you safe. 

His mind's a mess, but Dick’s sure that this whole thing really is his fault. The timeline, the symptoms, you’ve been poisoned, with a glass of wine that had been meant for him. If you die, it’ll be all his fault. If you die, then Dick thinks he might just die with you. 

The thought hits him like a bullet to the chest. He can’t imagine a world where he doesn’t hear your laugh, doesn’t feel your hand reaching for his across crowded rooms, doesn’t get to kiss you goodnight and pretend, just for a moment, that the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

You whimper in his arms, body twitching against the restraints that keep you from hurting yourself. The EMT had told him it was necessary, but it felt like cruelty.

You start to seize right as they get to the hospital, thrashing against your restraints as they wheel you through the ER doors. The paramedics speak rapid fire at the awaiting nurses and doctors, Dick barely hears any of it.

"Sir, you need to stay here—" someone tries to stop him from pushing past the double doors, but Dick shrugs them off with more force than necessary.

"I’m not leaving her!" he shouts, his voice cracking at the last word. His fists are clenched so tightly at his sides that they tremble.

"Mr. Grayson!" An overworked nurse tried to calm him down, and had he been in his right mind Dick would have been appalled at his behaviour.

A hand clamps down on his shoulder, pulling him back and Dick whirls around, snarling in Bruce's face.

"Let them work," Bruce says quietly, yet sternly.

Collapsing into Bruce's awaiting arms, Dick feels like a small child again. Completely helpless. He's sobbing, gasping against Bruce's chest.

The man is silent, aware that nothing he says can make it better, no matter how badly he wants to take away his son's pain. He wishes he could absorb it all and make everything magically better. But he can't, so he remains a pillar of support, holding his son up.

Time doesn’t pass normally in the hospital. Every second feels like an eternity, every tick of the clock on the far wall drawn out like torture. Bruce tries to get him to sit, but Dick refuses, staring at the doors they wheeled you through like it will bring you back.

"Please be okay," he whispers into the silence, his voice barely audible. "Please." He doesn't know who he's begging anymore: you, the doctors, God, or himself.

The hours feel eternal, a torturous, maddening slog as they wait for any sort of news.

The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting everything in a sickly white glow that makes the hospital hallway feel more like a purgatory than a place of healing.

Dick’s been pacing outside the ICU for so long he’s probably worn a hole in the ludicrously expensive shoes. Every nurse who walks by earns a hopeful glance, and every time they pass without stopping, it feels like another knife to the gut.

He’s running on adrenaline and guilt, the phantom image of your limp body in his arms haunting every breath.

Then, finally, footsteps approach, and Dick's nearly manic when someone finally adresses him.

"She’s stable. Still weak, but the anticholinergic treatment’s working. We’ve flushed most of the toxins from her system. You can see her now"

Anticholinergic treatment? That meant... poison.

Dick's already moving before she finishes, murmuring a breathless "Thank you" as he slips past her and into the private room Bruce is undoubtedlybpaying for.

The sight of you hooked up to various machines, IV lines, oxygen monitors, heart rate beeping slow and steady, makes his chest tighten, but at least you’re here. Alive.

He drags a chair up to your bedside and takes your hand, careful not to jostle the IV. It’s warm, but no longer searing like it had been in the ambulance.

"Hey, baby." He murmurs, voice cracking as he brushes his thumb gently across your knuckles.

You don’t respond.

He speaks softly anyway. He promises you’re safe, that everything's fine, that he’s right here, and that his family is already tearing Gotham apart, trying to figure out who did this.

The nurses try to get him to leave when visiting hours are over, but Dick kicks up a such a fuss that he's sure he accidentally scares them. Bruce ends up flashing some money to smooth things over, the benefits of being rich.

He refuses to leave your side; he won't leave you alone when you're so vulnerable. He does his best to stay awake, he needs to be there for you when you wake up, but eventually he succumbs to the exhaustion.

The room is quiet, save for the steady rhythm of the heart monitor and the soft mechanical whir of the machines monitoring your vitals.

Dick sits slouched in the chair beside your hospital bed, one arm resting awkwardly across his chest, the other still holding your hand like a lifeline. His head is bowed forward, chin tucked against his chest, breathing deep and even.

His suit jacket has long since been discarded, his tie loosened, his hair a mess, and dark circles paint shadows beneath his eyes.

You stir slowly, fighting desperately against the lethargy. Your eyelids feel like cement is weighing them down as you attempt to open them.

Your fingers twitch. A slight, barely perceptible movement before you manage to curl them around the hand clasped in yours.

The light is blinding, burning your retinas when you finally manage to pry them open. The world swims, but you push through it, turning your head as you follow the trail of the hand holding yours up to the blurry image of your sleeping boyfriend.

"…Dick?" Your voice is raw, no louder than a whisper. Not enough to stir him from his exhausted slump.

You squeeze his hand weakly, but it’s enough for him to jerk upright, eyes wild with panic, before they lock on yours.

"Hey," you croak, attempting to smile, but your facial muscles won't cooperate.

For a moment, he just stares at you, like he’s not sure he’s really awake. He lets out a shaky, tearful laugh before dragging the chair closer. "You’re awake," he breathes through a sob.

"I… yeah," you rasp, coughing from the dryness of your throat. "Hurts."

"I know love." He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You’ve been out for almost a day. They said you were stable, but, god, I didn’t know if—" His voice cracks on a sob, and you want nothing more than to reach out and comfort him but your sluggish body refuses to obey.

"M'sorry, didn’t wanna scare you."

"No, no, no, honey. Don't apologise, this isn't your fault." He shakes his head, eyes wet with unshed tears. "It's mine—"

"Don’t," you interrupt as sternly as you're able. "Don’t do that. Not your fault. I’m okay. I'm okay."

You start to cough again, and Dick reaches for the cup of water on the bedside, helping you drink slowly through the straw.

He helps you lie back down against the pillows, looking at you with such tenderness you almost cry. "You didn’t leave."

He smiles, a broken, crooked thing, but still shining with so much love. "I never will, never."

And you believe him.

[peachesofteal]

cw: noncon, smidge of watersports

Can't stop thinking about Captain Riley being gone for an extended period of time and worrying about you at home so much he arranges someone to check in on you. Make sure you're taking care of yourself, eating, sleeping, drinking water... everything. Ensuring you're healthy and happy in every way that's needed.

Kate's the most logical choice. She lives off base but close, close enough it's not an imposition, and Simon trusts her. He makes sure you know to expect her occasionally, tells you she has a key.

The first time she comes by is a quick check in. She's unobtrusive, looking you over before asking if you need anything, and then going on her way.

The second time...

You don't hear her come in. You're tossing and turning in the bed, naked from the waist down, grinding against the heel of your palm, trying to ease the ache between your legs. You don't even realize she's standing in the doorway until it's too late, and she's pulling the sheet down to expose you. You scream and snap your legs closed, but she shakes her head. Pries your knees apart.

"Do you need help?"

"What? No- no-"

"Hmm," she traces your folds and holds her fingers up to the light. They glisten with the evidence. "I think you do." Her thumb slides over your clit and you shake your head.

"I don't... ah- I don't think you're- you're not supposed to..."

"Actually, your daddy wanted you to be taken care of in any way necessary. He knows sometimes you have trouble making this pussy come, don't you?" You groan as she presses harder, rubbing your clit in a circle.

"N-no," you try to deny her. This is wrong.

"Yes, honey, you do, I know." A lithe finger slips inside you, and she hums. "Oh you're tight. Such a tight little girl for your daddy." You try to run up the bed, legs kicking, but she grabs you under the knee and holds you firm. "Be good, or I'll have to tell him you misbehaved." You're clenching around her, body betraying you, and fat tears roll down your cheeks. "Look at you. I bet you make your daddy crazy with this sweet little virgin pussy, don't you?" Your cheeks heat. How does she know?

"I d-don't want you." She moves closer, close enough she splits you around her thighs, spreading you wider.

"I know princess, but until your daddy comes home, I have to help, alright?" She's fucking you with her hand now, pressing deep, and you're holding your breath, trying to stave off your orgasm, trying to refuse her. "Come on, come for me pretty girl. You can do it."

"I c-can't I c-c-can't-" Even as you deny it, you tremble, trying to hold yourself back, fighting a losing battle. When you grit your teeth, still trying to resist, she sighs, and presses her free hand down firmly on your lower belly. "AH!" She chuckles.

"Maybe you need to pee instead?" The feelings are confusing. You're warm and tingling, and something inside you wants to be released, the pressure on your belly growing more firm. It feels good. It feels bad.

"No, nonono-"

"It will feel good. My little girl at home does it when she comes sometimes. Do you want to let it out?"

"No stop! Stop p-please." She presses harder and you gasp.

"Are you going to come for me?" She flicks your clit faster.

"Y-yes, yes- I... oh god, oh-" She lets go, and so do you, coming as you scream, tear stained face scrunched up, chest heaving, blissfully drifting as she gets you a glass of water and pats your thigh.

"Such a good girl."

[iamthatonefangirl]

mine - nsfw winter soldier

disclaimer: fully consensual by both parties although not explicitly stated. pre-established relationship. dark themes/sex. read at your own discretion.

uhh is this absolutely insane of me? yes

SORRY for the inconvenience! i had to repost this one

~~~

the feeling of him on top of you, pressing his weight into your body, would never get old.

his skin was practically glued to yours, his hair dangling down from the sides of his face and brushing up against your cheeks. it was so soft, unlike the rest of him, all sharp edges and gruff words.

his forearms pressed deep into the pillow under your head, caging you in between them, framing your face in front of his. you hold on tightly to his biceps, gripping him like he was your lifeline, just reveling in the moment.

your noses brushed together as he looked down to where his chest was pressed against yours. his grunts filled your ears, making you feel even more desperate for more of him. as if that was even possible.

"taking it so good," he whispers, "how a slut like you should."

you almost roll your eyes. even when he's like this, giving it to you oh so sweet, he won't let down his walls. has to remind you that you're his, one way or another.

he leans down to bite at the lobe of your ear, afterwards pressing a kiss to the junction of your neck and jaw where your pulse is. he moves to the opposite side of your neck, doing the same exact thing, as though he's grateful for the blood coursing through your veins. thanking you for being alive, for being his.

he begins marking you, all over your neck and down to your collarbones.

"mine," he says quietly, over and over with each hickey he puts on the surface of your skin. "all mine."

he shifts his weight to his right arm to bring a hand to your neck, running metallic fingers down the column of your throat.

"so delicate," he comments, all the while, he still keeps fucking you in perfect rhythm. he moves slowly, making sure you feel every single inch of him between your legs, deep up against your cervix with every thrust.

his hand comes down to press on your abdomen, a reminder of his place inside you, where he belongs, before moving down to rub your clit.

"you need me," he begins.

"yes," you whine. "always need you."

his fingers move in circles, feeling so heavenly against you as he continues, "you're mine. I'll kill anyone else who tries to come near you, you know that?"

he's serious.

"please," you whine.

"yeah? you'd like that, wouldn't you?" he taunts, voice rumbling in your ears. you feel the vibrations in your chest as he speaks, "you like being mine, my pretty little thing to do with as I please, hmm?"

he can't help himself. he keeps going.

"that's right. only I can fuck you. and I bet you'd like me to, even when I have a dead man's blood on my hands, wouldn't you?"

god, you think, he's gonna be the death of me.

you let out an embarrassing moan, beginning to squirm as you get closer. your hand on his flesh arm digs deeper into his muscle, your other hand coming to dig your nails into his back. he can't possibly get any closer to you right now, almost his entire weight on top of you, and yet you try anyways to pull him in, as though to become one.

he groans at the feeling of your nails scraping his skin.

"harder," he grunts. you dig your nails deeper, scratching up his back.

your breath quickens, the feeling of his voice, his fingers, his dick, all culminating to bring you to your release.

"please, I need to come," you whine. "can't wait."

"that's right, I control you, isn't that right? you're a little slut desperate for permission to come, my permission, huh?"

"yes, yes," you whine, willing every muscle in your body to just relax as you stave off the inevitable until he tells you it's okay. "please?"

"that's it, do it, come on. soak my cock, baby, for me."

your whole body tenses as you clench down on him, your nails finally drawing blood from his back and his arm as you dig in deep. he lets out a noise you've never heard before, and the mix of the pain and pleasure finally sends him over the edge. your stomach warms with the feeling of him coming deep inside you.

his sole arm holding him up gives out, and he lays on top of you, practically crushing your ribs. but it's him, and it feels so good, so you don't care to tell him to move.

after a few moments of heaving, trying to relax into the sheets, he adjusts to hold himself above you again. he brings a thumb to wipe a drop of blood from his right arm where you broke his skin. he shoves his thumb into your mouth, tasting the metallic of his finger and his blood at once.

"fuck, good job, baby. that's it, you're mine. all mine, forever."

~~~

your likes and comments mean the world to me <3

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[voxslays]

Rut Season Alastor x Reader

Smut. Pure Smut.

When November rolled around, Alastor's antlers became itchy and the velvet rubbed off as he desperately tried to stave off the breeding season. Now the Radio Demon, Hell's strongest Overlord, was locked up in his room, desperately humping against the bed, imagining a loving partner he could mate with. The desire to breed a beautiful female was ever so present. He let out sharp cries every time he grinned against the mattress, trying desperately to hold himself back. "H-Haah~! Haah~! Fuck, fuck, fuck~!" From within his room, with rut warnings posted all over his door, you could hear him desperately trying to cum, but to no avail. He couldn't cum without a mate right now. Tears of sexual frustration welled in his eyes as his humping became more desperate. 

“Hey Alastor?” You say as you walk into the room, unaware. 

Alastor was so engrossed in his rut that he didn't hear the door open. He continued to hump against the bed, his tail lashing back and forth behind him. The smell of his pheromones filled the room, a heavy, musky scent that was hard to ignore. 

As soon as you start to close the door, Alastor freezes mid-hump. His tail whipping around to face you. His eyes are wild, dilated with lust. "What are you doing here?" he growls, his voice barely recognizable. Get out!" *He points to the door, his hand shaking with the effort to control himself. You look away. “Charlie told me to tell you that dinner is being served!” You say, embarrassed.

Alastor's stomach grumbled loudly at the mention of food, but his body's urgent need for release was far stronger. "I-I can't... I-I'm in rut." He let out a sharp cry, his body convulsing as he desperately tried to find release. “Oh- Uhm-” You pause. “That makes sense I guess..” Alastor's tail presses tightly to his waist, squeezing him against the bed as he continues to hump, his cries growing louder and more desperate. "F-Fuck... I need to... I need to breed..." His eyes roll back in his head, and he begins to thrash wildly.

You just stand there awkwardly before deciding to leave. “I'm just gonna go-”

“M-Mate with me!" He let out a primal roar, his antlers crashing against the headboard. His eyes, wild with desire, locked onto you. "Anything... please... just..." He paused. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you towards the bed. His strength is overpowering, and you find yourself being dragged towards him. “Alastor just wait a moment-!”

He's beyond reasoning now, his mind clouded by the intense need to breed. His tail tightens around you, pulling you down onto the bed with him. He growls, his voice low and menacing. "Can't... wait... I… need... you… now…” He pants. 

His antlers catch the light as he leans down, his hot breath fanning across your face. "Please... let me mate with you..." His arms wrap around your legs, spreading them wide as he grinds his hips against yours, his erection pressing against you. “I'll help you.” You say. His eyes widen, then roll back in his head as he lets out a roar of triumph. He starts to paw at her clothes, growling possessively. “Mine, you're mine... I'll breed you so hard…” His arms unwrap from your legs and he reaches down to unbuckle his pants, freeing his engorged member. With a loud growl, he enters you, his hips moving violently as he begins to breed. The sound of your bodies slapping together fills the room, and his antlers catch in your hair as he leans down to bite your neck, marking you as his. "FUCK~..."

He continues to move, his hips thrusting with a wild, animalistic rhythm. He can't help but let out loud, growling grunts with each thrust. “Fuck~... So tight… Ah! Say my name!” He leans down once again, his fangs grazing her earlobe. “Alastor!” You cry. He grins, his eyes fluttering shut as she speaks his name. He grinds his hips into hers, burying himself deep. “Good girl…” He praises, his voice thick and heavy. He leans down, claiming her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue dominating her own.

His movements become even more frenzied as he nears his peak. His tail wraps tightly around your waist, holding you in place as he breeds you hard and fast. He soon lets go. "FUCK..." He collapses on top of you, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. His tail unwraps from your waist and reaches down to touch your stomach, as if checking to make sure his seed has taken hold. "Mmm... I hope you're fertile..."

“W-what!?” You ask, taken aback. He nuzzles your neck, his voice contented. "I hope you're fertile... I want you to have my fawn... or several. His arms wrap possessively around you, and he lets out a purring sound. “​​A-Alastor-!” You say, extremely flustered. He silences you with a kiss, his tail tightening around you. "Shh... no regrets... You're mine now... my mate... His tail begins to slowly rub against you, its movements soothing yet possessive. "And you'll bear my young.” 

His tail continues to rub against you, its movements becoming more insistent. He breaks the kiss and nuzzles your neck, his voice low. "I can feel my seed inside you... It would be such a shame if it was all for nothing..." He stands up, his arms still wrapped around your waist. He carries you to the bathroom, setting you down on the counter. He turns on the shower and steps inside, pulling you in with him. "We'll give it a little push, just in case."

He turns you to face the shower wall and pushes your legs apart, his tail spreading them further. He reaches under you and rubs your belly gently, his other hand holding your hips in place. "Hold this position..." He begins to rub your belly in slow, rhythmic motions, his tail keeping your legs spread wide. The warm water cascades down on you both, and his voice rumbles in his chest as he purrs contentedly, his arms tightening possessively around you. "There... that should do it..." He says.

He turns off the shower and helps you out, drying you off with a large, fluffy towel. He carries you back to the bed and settles in beside you, his arm around your waist. "Get some rest, my dear..” He says. 

Masterlist

[urhoneycombwitch]

eddie x latebloomer, virgin reader (so not self-projecting...) who isn't innocent or typically what people say is "virginal" (because virginity is a construct!) but still gets super nervous about heavy petting/sex because they've never done it before and don't want to be bad or weird and literally just flees at the confrontation

until that ovulation hits and r! is trying so hard to ignore it, squirming on Eddie's couch/bed and he's like 🤨 you ok? and then it just comes out in a whole word vomit that he's super hot and they're absolutely soaked but don't know what to do and it probably won't be good and they should just go home and eddies like... no big deal, I'll just eat you out, no penetration 🤷🏻

and when they do actually have sex later, I know Eddie talks R through it

ty for suggesting this anon! u got me inspired here's a lil blurb. also dedicated to @wdsara48 who asked for more inexperienced!reader content 🫡

cw: +18 mdni, Eddie’s a bit clueless about the hormone cycle, oral (r receiving), cumming in pants (guess who), ovulation horny (™)

____________

On second thought, it was probably a really bad call to visit your boyfriend when you were this horny.

Which sounds silly, you know it does- who wouldn't want to visit their hot boyfriend at a time like this?- but you've really been enjoying taking it slow this time around. Eddie is the first boy you've dated who has totally and completely earned your trust when it comes to sex- he's never once pressured you to take your heated make-out sessions any further, pulling back and unwinding himself from you with spit-slick lips every so often to gauge your comfort level.

Is this okay? How are you feeling? Wanna take a break?

So kind. So considerate. So far away, in the kitchen, humming to himself while he fixes dinner, hair loose and curling around the shoulders of his tight Metallica tee. Every time he reaches over to stir the pot of chili on the stove, the lean muscles in his upper back and biceps curl and flex.

Hormones are flushing hot through your body, the couch you’re seated on feeling more and more confining by the second; you cross your legs at the ankle in an attempt to stave off the fidgeting, but when this causes the thick denim of your zippered jeans to press into the ache between your legs you are quick to uncross them again.

There’s a low-toned buzz that’s taken up residence in your hearing, like all the raging horniness has no place else to go- which is why you don’t hear Eddie the first time he speaks.

He’s standing at the edge of the living room now, hands on hips, one dark brow raised in your direction- “Earth to angel. You with me?”

“Huh?” You swallow harshly against the dryness in your throat (contrasted with the excess wetness in other places) and shake your head, slipping your hands underneath your thighs to sit on them and ground yourself a bit. “Sorry, I was zoning out. What’d you say?”

“I said you seem antsy tonight,” Eddie repeats, moving in to sit next to you, close enough for your knees to touch. “Had too much coffee or somethin’? Y’know, you really shouldn’t drink that stuff after noon. Not good for ya.”

He’s teasing, all smooth movements with an easy grin as he snakes an arm around your shoulders.

The smoke-sweet smell of his cologne floods your senses- musky and heady and this underlayer of something earthy, wild, that you could swear hits on a primal nerve by the way it makes your clit throb.

When you stiffen under Eddie’s arm, he reads your signal as one of discomfort, tsking at himself underneath his breath before starting to pull away. “Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to make you-”

“No!” Your hand darts out to grab at his over your shoulder, keeping him from leaving, because if the warmth of his body pressed to your side stops you might actually die. “No, it’s not you. I promise. It’s me. I’m…”

Eddie watches you with mild concern as you flounder, mouth opening and shutting a few times before settling on just the truth- “I’m ovulating.”

He blinks. “Um. Shit. Do you need to go to the doctor? ‘Cuz the main office is definitely closed this time ‘a night but the ER is for sure open-”

You bend at the waist, pitching forward with a groan and cutting him off. With hot cheeks buried in your hands, your voice comes out muffled- “Didn’t you take sex ed, like, three times?”

“Sure did. Learned basic anatomy real well.” His palm has slid to your lower back, your shirt ridden up to expose a stripe of skin that his warm hand now rests on. “Help me out, princess. What’s goin’ on?”

With a pounding heart, you manage to sit up, looking down at your hands in your lap as you whisper, “Ovulation makes me, like, super horny.”

At first, you think he didn’t hear you, but after a beat of silence there’s a subtle shift in his posture, spine straightening.

“Oh.” Eddie’s hand on you doesn’t move but his other one smoothes down the line of his jean-clad thigh, clearing his throat before asking, “And do you wanna… do something about that?”

Mustering courage, you swivel slightly to look at him- the joking tone from earlier has drained out of his voice, and this is the shyest you’ve ever seen him: staring unseeing at his own lap, plucking at the knee of his jeans.

“Like what?” You ask, matching the same low tone he’s just used.

When Eddie looks back at you, that’s when you realize your mistake- his lack of eye contact wasn’t due to shyness. The way he’s looking at you now, dark chocolate eyes holding a steady gaze, it’s a wonder he’s been so restrained this whole time. 

“Could eat you out. Only if you wanted, though.”

You shiver. Visibly. 

A slow, half-tilted smile pulls at Eddie’s lips; he brings your free hand to his face and kisses your knuckles, then tugs you up with him to stand.

“C’mon. Let’s go to the bedroom.”

Cast in soft lamplight, Eddie closes the door to his room before cupping your face in his hands, cool rings against your cheeks. He kisses you gently, at first, plush lips notching in steady rhythm against yours; when you tug him in closer by his waist and slip your tongue between his teeth, he groans into your mouth.

He pulls away, wet click of your separating mouths loud in the quiet of the room before giving your hip a light tap. “Up on the bed, angel.”

You’re quick to comply, crawling backwards on the duvet, lust unfurling in your stomach as you rest half-propped on your elbows.

Eddie divests himself of his shirt in one fluid motion without taking his eyes from you. His pale skin gleams in the low light, silver chain and guitar pick necklace swinging as he moves to hover over you.

“You okay?” He asks, dark hair a curtain around both your faces as his bare torso presses against your clothed one. 

When you nod, he ducks to kiss you again before sliding a hand up your shirt. “Good. ‘Cuz I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

You know he’s mostly joking- you and him have a safeword, and he’s always attentive to your body signals- but the pure desire that he’s kissing and touching you with is indicative of a boy who’s waited too long to be able to have you like this.

Eddie laps at your mouth, tongue twining with yours as his hand squeezes and molds the fat of your breast through your bra as both your nipples stiffen in response. When his knee slots between your thighs, you moan, hips jolting up to chase the friction.

“Can I…” you’re panting, forehead crushed to Eddie’s as you search for the words. “I want your mouth, on me- please.”

You’re rarely ever so communicative, usually hidden away behind a wall of reservations that are totally melted away now. Eddie makes a noise like he’s been punched, sucks at a spot behind your ear that causes your hips to rock forward again, then says, “Yeah, sweetheart, yeah. You can have my mouth. Fuck.”

While he kisses down the slope of your neck, between your clothed breasts, your bare stomach where your shirt’s been rucked up, he’s muttering (to himself, to you, hard to say): “‘Course you can have my mouth. Have it wherever you want it. Christ. Should’a asked for it sooner. Give you anything you want.”

Eddie pops the button on your jeans and you lift your hips so he can pull them completely off your body; when he sees the wet patch of arousal darkening your baby blue underwear he chokes out another curse before working the fabric down your hips and tossing them to the ground.

“Gonna let me taste you, baby?” he asks, stretching his lower half out on the mattress and pulling your legs over his shoulders, his mouth inches from your soaked core. Eddie looks up at you, face bracketed by your thighs, pupils blown out with desire, waiting for your go-ahead.

“Please,” you murmur, stretching out a hand to pet at the crown of his head.

His eyes flutter shut for a moment with your touch; when he presses a kiss to the top of your cunt, your hand tightens in his hair, his resulting hum of encouragement vibrating against your clit.

Eddie flattens his tongue and licks a wide stripe up your folds, spreading the wetness from your leaking hole up to mouth sloppily at your clit; when he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your elbow supporting your half-propped frame gives out and you pitch back against the covers.

“There- ah- shit, there, Eddie…” you sound wrecked already, voice husked with the strain of holding back whines. Normally, you’d be so in your head about the exposing condition you’re in, but at this point you’re too wound up to care, Eddie’s tongue against the beating heart of you coaxing that tightness in your stomach closer and closer to snapping.

His nails bite in where his hands span the width of your thighs, holding you against his mouth even as your legs tremble and hips twist jerkily with each sweep of his tongue; Eddie gives one last suck to your clit then follows the line of your cunt down, down with his tongue to prod at your sodden entrance.

When his tongue slides into you with a wet squelch, obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room, you both moan in tandem- your hand in his hair tightens to near-brutal, and the bed underneath you both tremors with the jolt of Eddie’s hips rutting into the mattress.

He sets a steady pace with his tongue, fucking it in and out of you as his nose nudges against your clit. That coil in your stomach is starting to make all your muscles tense up, your thighs locking Eddie in place (who seems to only be spurred on with each constriction of your body).

“Gonna come?” The lower half of his face is coated in your slick as he takes a brief pause to kiss at your inner thigh, one hand coming to rest on your tummy, pinning you down. “C’mon, baby. Let me see it.”

Your body obeys, tension snapping as his mouth returns to your cunt, a high whine of “Eddie Eddie Eddie” that you don’t bother to hide this time loosening from your throat as everything around you bursts and crashes into orgasm.

Toes curling against Eddie’s lower back, cunt spasming around his tongue, Eddie fucks you through it and then some, his own hips mindlessly grinding down as your release triggers his own, spilling warm into his boxers while your high spirals out.

When the spams of your pleasure turn over into aftershocks, Eddie comes up for air, pressing one last kiss to your overstimulated cunt before crawling up your body to lie on top with his head in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck,” you say aloud to the ceiling, breathless, arms automatically encircling the boy. “Holy shit.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie’s breath cools over the sticky patch he kissed into your skin, his mouth still wet with your release. He gathers enough energy to plant his elbows on either side of your head, looking down at you, suddenly serious. “So um… how often do you get ovi- ovel… like this? Once a year or somethin’?”

The laugh shakes out of your chest before you can stop it; you reach up to tuck Eddie’s curls behind his ears, your previous bashfulness having been tongue-fucked out of you.

“Eddie Munson, do I have news for you.”

[alllgator-blood]

PINNED POST TIME! I figured I should make one because I do comics, and I kinda gave up on linking all the parts in the description cause it got annoying.

Soooo...click "read more" to get links to all my comic pages in chronological order! This doesn't include shitposts for the most part but I added the untitled/short ones at the very bottom

My comics in order of when they occur!

I name every comic after song lyrics, but the song rarely has anything to do with the actual comic, felt the need to link them anyway though

'IT'S JUST A BURNING MEMORY'

A short while after the schism happened, Leshy starts to become frustrated with how Kallamar and Heket seem to be hiding Shamura from him. They try to convince him that Shamura isn't ready for visitors, but he slips past their defenses and goes to visit Shamura himself...only to realize his oldest sibling doesn't seem to remember him.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5)

(title is from Heartaches by Al Bowlly)

'THE UNPAYABLE DEBT THAT I OWE YOU'

Kallamar hasn't gotten a break from their duties for quite some time, and figures they've done enough good deeds for the family to earn a day off. But as more responsibilities pile up, more of the family gets hurt, more research needs to get done, Kall realizes they maybe won't ever catch a break.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5)

(title is from Kettering by The Antlers)

'IN LITTLE WAYS, EVERYTHING STAYS'

Leshy is having a good time on his way to a checkup, but accidentally sees his reflection for the first time since his eyes were removed. He ends up talking to Kallamar about it, and the two have a discussion about what it means to feel like a replica of the person you once were rather than the same person.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

(title is from Everything Stays sung by Olivia Olson)

'FOGGY STREETS AND CHRISTMAS LIGHTS'

Leshy throws a Yule party after many years of the family not celebrating it, but it's not really as joyful as any of the siblings hoped it'd be. Heket is drinking a lot, Kallamar is wearing their iconic fake smile, and Shamura is physically present but mentally absent. Leshy, trying to stave off a meltdown, starts to play a song that ends up being familiar to the entire family.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

(title is from Classic J Dies And Goes To Hell by Glass Beach)

'TAKE ME SOMEWHERE NICE'

The party is winding down. Shamura is tired, Heket and Leshy are rowdy, and Kallamar decides to put his sibling to bed in the guest room. But while Shamura seems happy and fairly lucid, the conversation turns dark quickly as they ask Kallamar to promise them something.

(full comic)

(title is from Take Me Somewhere Nice by Mogwai)

'YOU AIN'T AS YOUNG AS YOU USED TO BE'

After Kallamar was found unconscious on their bedroom floor, they decided from that point on that rest + relaxation were mandatory for the entire family. Heket begrudgingly agrees to take it easy for a single day to appease her sibling, but only then remembers why she wouldn't allow herself rest. Plagued by visions of Shamura's atrophying body, she returns to Anura and tries to work like normal, quickly realizing her own body isn't holding together well either.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (THIS ONE'S UNFINISHED, I didn't like the original ending so I'll get back to it someday!! Part 4 is pretty much complete I just haven't posted it yet)

(title is from It Might Be Time by Tame Impala)

'I WENT BACK AND WISHED I HADN'T'

Shamura, suddenly remembering a promise they made to Narinder many thousands of years ago, begins to look for him in the temple to finish a game of hide-and-seek. They grow increasingly confused as they struggle to find him, but swear they caught a glimpse of him when they walked in...

(part 1) (part 2)

(title is from The Moon by The Microphones)

'YOU'RE ALL I NEED'

After Shamura's breakdown over not remembering why Narinder is gone, Kallamar checks on them and is hurt by them accidentally. Heket happens to come by right as Kall is trying to leave, and the three simultaneously grapple with the memory of the schism in different ways. But despite the tension in the temple and the two most composed bishops being mentally incapacitated, Heket pulls it together long enough to help Kallamar out of a dissociative episode.

(part 1) (part 2)

(title is from All I Need by Radiohead)

'"THE PRICE WE PAID TO KNOW YOU"

Shamura just had a seemingly successful day of physical therapy, finally being deemed well enough to not need to live in the hospital anymore. Of course, just as Heket tries to depart and call it a day, Shamura experiences a sudden burst of lucidity Heket hadn't bore witness to just yet...and she realizes something she'd been willingly ignoring for the past millennia.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

(title is from Dagger by Mastodon)

'DID YOU GET ENOUGH LOVE, MY LITTLE DOVE?'

Narinder and Kallamar are practicing summoning their crown weapons when Narinder accidentally damages some of Shamura's artwork with his scythe. Instead of telling the truth, he notices Kallamar goes into shutdown mode and instead blames him to avoid whatever punishment lays in store for whoever desecrated Shamura's handiwork. The lie is quickly discovered, and his older sibling decides it's time for a heart-to-heart about what unconditional love is.

(part 1) (part 2)

(title is from Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens)

'KIDS THAT I ONCE KNEW'

In the Lamb's cult, they and Leshy are kept awake by a screaming baby caterpillar who can't seem to be sated. They get into an argument with him, wandering off and not realizing until it's too late that the ex-god of war has managed to make off with the baby...and seems to find that it looks very familiar to them.

(full comic)

(title is from Dead Hearts by Stars)

the song is kinda "stomp clap hey" coded but I found it in a warrior cat AMV when I was a preteen and the lyric DID fit the comic, so....

'WE COULD BE HAPPY, YOU AND ME'

After a pretty average day in the Lamb's cult, the Lamb winds down and starts going over everything they've accomplished thus far. Shamura wanders in and seems to be talking crazy, as usual, but asks a simple question that begins to break the Lamb down quicker than any threat or attack ever has: "are you okay?"

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

(title is from Apple Pie by The Scary Jokes)

ASSORTED RANDOM COMICS THAT ARE UNTITLED BUT ARE STILL WORTH BEING ON THIS MASTERPOST:

The very first angst comic I ever did, about that "five becomes four becomes..." dialogue shamura has

The shamura-explains-their-gender comic

Two-panel comic about shamura telling the younger sibs a story, and then being told the same story in the future

Comic about heket someday being strong enough to carry shamura

Comic where the lamb abuses the shit out of the bishops in the cult, but gives shamura a break for some inexplicable reason

Comic where Narinder gives his siblings a little gift as reparations for his fucking war crimes against them

[snowluvvie]

the way i keep going back to ur JJ farmhand scenarios is insane. more please i beg 😭 u write him so well 😩

₊˚⊹ ♡ . FARMHAND!JJ and CALF!READER sneaking around

You peeked your head around the corner of the barn doors, eyes scanning the ground and the stacks of equipment that were lit up by the early afternoon sunlight. The peaceful noise of the farm was interrupted by a loud “RAHHH!” just as your shoulders were grabbed roughly from behind, shaking you.

With a shriek, you spun around to find JJ’s grinning and dirt-streaked face.

“JJ!” You exclaim, swatting his chest.

His hands don’t leave your shoulders, continuing to shake you around lightly as he backs you into the barn with him, your feet dragging over the dirt and bumping against the occasional object since you couldn’t see where you were going.

“How was church?” He asked, his voice tinged with mocking.

You gave a little shrug. “It was church. The bible’s the same every time, believe it or not.”

As you spoke, it looked like he was only half listening, and he was still backing you up, until your back hit hard wood. You glanced over your shoulder to find the ladder to the hayloft, and gave a soft laugh at JJ's expectantly raised eyebrows. Obliging, you turn and begin climbing the ladder, the wood rough against your fingers—you know you'll get a wicked splinter doing this one day, it's just hopefully not today.

JJ climbs up behind you and takes the opportunity to swat your ass under your dress from his place below you, a yelp falling from your lips. The sound amuses him and he reaches up to pinch you again, laughing. You scramble up the ladder to escape his prying hands, the dusty floor of the loft rough and prickly from the hay shoots littering it, and they dig into your butt and legs as you climb onto it. JJ's biceps flex when he pulls himself up to join you, clambering to hover over top of you as you scramble backwards from him, dissolving into giggles that only make him come after you more.

"Tha hell is this?" JJ yanks on the sleeve of your dress. "Vomit green?"

You sigh. "Mama says it's olive."

"It's ugly."

You laugh loudly at his words, at the way he always catches you off guard with the ridiculous things he says.

"It'd look better over... there. Buried in the hay. Forever."

You can't stave off the giggles that wrack your body as he dips his face down to your neck, nipping at your throat and pressing open-mouthed kisses to it. Your laughter dissolves into a soft, tiny moan when he runs his tongue over your skin, and JJ pulls back to tease. "I'm barely even touchin' you."

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, JJ claps his hand over your mouth. It's rough against your skin, and smells like soil and sweat, and the indignant cry you let out is muffled. His head whips up, looking back and forth like he's waiting for something.

A few moments pass before you hear it: "Boy? Y'in here?"

Your daddy.

JJ glances at your wide eyes, his lips quirking up into a smirk before he shouts down. "Yes, sir. Up here."

"Thought you brought hay down this mornin'?" Your father questioned him. You squirmed slightly under JJ, unbelievably nervous, but his hands were firm on you as he kept you where you were.

"Yeah, I did. Jus' got worried about the ventilation and thought I'd check f'mold."

"Ahhhh, gotcha. On top of it, aren't you?"

"Sure try to be!"

It bewildered you every day that JJ was doing manual labor and not working in the theatre—he lied so convincingly it shocked you every time. Not just lying, embodying. His personality with your father was totally manufactured, it didn't hold even one shred of his real self.

"Anyways, ya seen my girl around?"

Your eyes got even larger, and JJ's head snapped to look at you. The panic in your eyes was all encompassing, but his shoulders shook with silent laughter. You suddenly felt burning hot, and he felt extremely heavy and warm on top of you.

"No, sir!" He hollered down, giving you a smug look.

"Alright, then, I'll let ya get back to work. Have a good one, son."

"You too, sir!"

You hadn't heard your father approach, but you certainly heard his heavy footfalls thudding as he walked away from the barn. JJ waited a few more moments before he removed his hand from over your mouth, and the two of you looked at eachother wildly—you recognized the unmistakable look of adrenaline in his eyes. He loved this.

You smacked him on his chest for that, but he was unfazed. "You're a pig," you insisted.

"Oink oink." He mocked you, leaning in to fit his lips to yours in a kiss that became sloppy fast, his tongue sliding against yours demandingly.

His hands moved up your thigh, fingers digging into your flesh as he maneuvered you out of your dress inch by inch, keeping your mouths connected firmly the entire time. He only broke away for a moment to murmur against your lips.

"Now—let's get this god awful thing off ya."

[citruswriter]

A Sign From God?

Listen with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

Warnings: Religious themes, noncon, fem reader, fem terms, Reader is Christian/Catholic, oral (f! receiving), dirty talk (???), church sex, desecration of religious site (???), overstimulation, size kink (???), kidnapping (???).

Monstertober/Yantober Prompts: Local Folklore/Fate

Pairings: Male Rougarou Monster x Fem Reader

You were a devoted thing. Always going to church, always studying your Bible, always paying tithes. As a child you always when to church camp and as an adult you became baptized. The older you were however, the more the church seemed to call you in more and more, demanding to give more of yourself to God Almighty.

You found yourself wondering if you should become a nun. And that's how you ended up in your local church in the dead of night, on your knees and praying to God.

"Please God. I feel torn. I want love. I want a husband. But I also feel called to the nunnery. Please Father, I don't know what to do. Please. Give me a sign." You prayed, bowed over the stairs that led up to the podium. It wasn't long before you heard a growl.

Your breath caught in your throat at the noise as the animalistic growl ripped through the cathedral. Your body stiffened and you felt your blood run cold as the predatory noise made you very much aware that you were not alone in the church.

"You wish a sign from God?" A voice came, the sound of it low and gravelly, his Cajun accent thick. "I'll be your sign." You felt a figure loom over your body as you trembled in fear. You felt a large clawed hand grasp your skull with ease and force it down to the ground as he licked his jaws.

"Such a pretty little thing." His voice came, wolf jaws sniffing over your body, tongue sneaking under your tongue to lap at the skin of your thighs. You shudder and tremble in fear, but despite what you wanted, your body responded differently. You felt heat pool in your core, tears welling in your eyes as you body called to the sin despite your heart trying so hard to cast your cares on God.

"I can smell your fear, little girl. You afraid of the big bad wolf, cher?" He taunts and he presses his snout up your skirt and To your inner thigh, hot breath fanning over you and adding to the heat of your core before he lets out a raspy laugh. "Maybe it's less fear than it is... arousal. Maybe you're afraid I'll devour you whole... but maybe that's also what you want."

You let out a whine of protest, tears starting to spill from your eyes as he lapped closer to your cunt before his spare hand tore your panties away, claws shredding the fabric and flipping your modest skirt up to expose your cunt to the cold air of the cathedral.

You yelped and tried to close your legs but his hand kept you firmly spread out for him, a low predatory growl leaving his maw and making you freeze in fear once more again before his long canine long lapped at your slick cunt, making you whine out. Whether it was in protest or pleasure, you weren't completely sure.

He continues to lap at your cunt, licking at your clit and lipping it inside you, trying to drink more of your sweet nectar as you whine and keen on the stairs. He seems almost feral, not being able to get enough of your sweet cunt as he eats you out like a man starved. You gasp as you start to feel a knot form in your gut, your orgasm cresting within you. The beast seems to notice you too, giving an almost puppy like whine as he presses his tongue onto you harder, working harder to get you to orgasm on his tongue.

You try hard not to, to stave off your orgasm, to not give this sinful beast what he wants but its all in vain as your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave. You cry out as you cum, you nerves kind of feeling as if you bit into a star as the beast laps greedily at the sweet honey you released.

"So fucking good." He rumbled and you give a small strangled noise as he continues to lap again. "Again." He growls out, lapping at your cunt once more, trying to get you to cum once more on his tongue once more, loving the way your pussy juices tasted.

You moan out with overstimulation, tears streaming down your face as he works your sensitive cunt with with lycan tongue. You sob and moan as he laps at you greedily, working you to another orgasm.

It doesn't take long for that familiar knot to return. You let out a strangled noise as he presses harder to drive you over the edge once more, desperate to taste your sweet cum once more.

You cry out, sobbing as you're forced to cum once more. Your vision blurs and your ears are ringing from the intensity of your orgasm. Your whole body trembles as you're kept in the position, the man lapping happily at your cunt like he was a puppy who just got his favorite treat.

Eventually you feel his tongue retreat and you give sigh of relief as your poor cunt is given a moment of rest. But large clawed hands splay themselves over your hips and sides and you feel him shift. Your blood runs cold.

You feel his cock nudge at your entrance but before you can protest he thrusts forward, spearing you on his cock and stuffing you full as he shoves his large throbbing cock into your sopping wet cunt. You cry out, giving a strangled moan as he stuffs you full and stretches you out. It feels so good and you feel so guilty. Like you've sinned.

He growls and snarls as he starts to piston in and out of you, wasting no time with setting a brutal pace in you. It took you a bit to shove through the pleasure and hear his muttering. "You asked for a sign from God. I am your sign from God. You are mine now, little gir. My mate. My everything. We are bound together. Bound by fate. My beautiful fated mate. God has chosen you to be my wife."

You can't believe what your hearing. You would have retorted, told him he was wrong, crazy even. But the way his cock was fucking you on the floor of the cathedral kept you from speaking anything legible. Only slutty moans and keening whines left your throat as he drills into that wonderful spongy spot deep within your velvet walls.

You start to panic when you feel his hips stuttering but shows no sign of pulling out. You weakly squirm but he keeps you firmly in place, one of his hands dropping to rub you already abused pearl once more. You cry out once more, loud noises being ripped from your throat as he tries to drive you over the edge once more, this time with him.

You scream as you cum once more, shuddering as the man lets out a vicious snarl and shoves his cock as deep as he can, pumping a large load of cum into you. You both pant heavily as the two of you attempt to climb down of your orgasms. Eventually he pulls out, cum spilling from your pussy and onto the cathedral's floor.

You collapse onto the floor, whining softly as everything hurts. Moments later, the large beast scoops you up but your vision is too blurry to really make out much. But you do hear him. He's returned to his rambling. His deranged muttering about how you're his fated mate. Fate brought you together. God led him to you to take you.

Finally he's no longer alone.

Ik, ik. It's late. Shoot me.

This one was actually kind of special to me bc I'm Cajun and I don't see a lot of representation when it comes to my culture so it was nice to share a piece of my culture with all of you guys!

Taglist: @ozzgin

[satorupi]

❦ pairing! ⭑ collegestudent!satoru x collegestudent!reader

❦ sum! ⭑ satoru just hates seeing his hardworking gf stressed to the point of tears because she can't wrap her head around something she's working on. he tries to leave you be for long enough but makes everything better when it looks like it gets to being too much ˙⋆✮

❦ cw! ⭑ sexual themes, established relationship, f!receiving oral/cunnilingus, fingering, stress themes (?), foul language (mild), might count as comfort sex so i'll list it too, eatergojeatergojoeatergojo!!

next in queue! ⭑ exhusband!nanami x wife!reader

it’s just a little past 10 pm and you’ve been hunched at your desk for god knows how long. birds have long resigned for the day, the street lamps cast long shadows on the pavement outside. that and your own lamp are your only source of light save for that emanating from your screen in a steady stream of blue. the prolonged blue light exposure is sure to give you eye sensitivity with how long you’ve been staring, fixed on the same jumble of words for the past 10 minutes.

your mind feels all fogged up and your brain feels like it’s just taking up space in your head being useless. the headache building has actual claws, pulsing behind your eyelids as a heavy, weighted throb.

you might actually freak out if you keep sitting here but what other option do you have?

this shit is due next week, you’d let your anxiety and procrastination win this time and look at where you are now. the clock ticks louder with every second you waste not getting it. you can feel the burn of tears hot behind your eyelids—annoying, stupid tears. other people got this just fine, and here you were about to cry over it. you don’t realize you’ve been biting the inside of your cheek till you taste that slight metallic tang, blinking rapidly to get your thoughts in order.

he notices all of this, of course. had been trying to keep from saying anything, knowing how dire it was for you to get a bit of this done. but you look like you’re a moment away from tears, and what kind of boyfriend would he be leaving his darling girl to suffer?

“alright, now,” the bed springs creak with his shifting as his weight eases off, crossing over cool hardwood to get to you, hands smoothing over your hair from behind. “been at it for hours.”

you close your eyes and breathe out a slow breath, willing the rise of irritation down. not at him, of course – but you can’t help but feel all volatile right now when your frustration level is already this high. you’d kept a calm head, you hadn't cried. you’re sure all his niceties and placation would undo you.

you shake your head. a warning. a please don’t, even if little part of you wants him to.

“baby. come take a break.”

“god, satoru. can you not?” the words are like the crack of a whip, sharper than you’d hoped for them to come out. the halt of his hands running over your hair has the growing ache of guilt in your chest settling deeper, punching through your ribs. “i just..” your head tips to look up at him, glad for the angle that staved the building flow on your waterline even if momentary. his brows are furrowed a little, head tipped, eyes so filled with tenderness and concern that it makes your skin prickle.

“i didn’t mean it like that,” you mutter, softer this time. “the assignment just..” you cut yourself off, breathing slowly. “i’m not mad at you, it’s the assignment. ‘m sorry.”

he'd showed up to keep you company through the grueling hours, been the absolute sweetest checking up and you and you’d snapped at him for no reason at all. your whine is low in your throat, sniffling gently as his fingers begin to circle your temples. “i feel so stupid. i’ve been sitting her for ages, you saw—” your voice hiccups a little, nose scrunching to fight the tingling, “and nothing’s even sticking. then i’m mean to you f’no reason.”

satoru hums, hands slipping away from you just to brace on either armrest at the side of you, spinning the chair so that you’re facing him so he can actually see you. “not mean. just a little overwhelmed, princess.”

he coaxes you up into his hold easily with a slight dip to your height in the chair and a tap to your hip, “come on up.” it’s an easy shift out the seat, arms banding around the back of his neck, legs around his hips to cling like a koala like you always should be – where you feel safest.

a whimper muffles against his neck as his hands sweep up and down your back over the soft cotton of the shirt you’d stolen borrowed, kissing the side of your head as he rocks you in his hold.

“you’re taking a break with me.” leaves out the whether you like it or not. “you’ll catch up, baby. i’ll help you catch up after you take a break.” never mind the fact that you’re in different majors -- you don’t question him though, just nodding against his neck. maybe a nap with him is all you need to feel better.

you end up in bed of course, but there’s not much napping going on. soft kisses and massaging your temples turned to hushed reassurances and the gentle coaxing of your body to the sheets as he swore that he’d make you feel better.

satoru didn’t need a bio degree to know that orgasms were good for stress.

tee high over the softness of your abdomen, thighs parted -- satoru’s on you like fire to kindling.

his teeth skim over the softness of thighs he’d gotten between, settling your legs over his shoulders at a better angle. all the teasing had done was work you up a little more, pulling mewls and slightly irritated calls of his name as he continues to deny you. all he does is grin, biting down on the same spot again before kissing it better. “jeez, have some patience.”

and when he does give you what you want? yeah, he’s intentional with everything he does – including this. his mouth is everywhere--slow, deliberate, like he's trying to replace every unkind thought you had about yourself with the sweet, grounding drag of his tongue over the soppy fabric. you’re already high strung from all the teasing, hips jolting upward just to be leveled by the gentle but firm press of his hands, lips smacking a kiss over your clothed ones just to make you squirm. “toruu..” you sigh, all high and reedy, brows creasing. “quit teasing. i thought you wanted to help me.”

he makes a sound against you that sounds something like agreement, licking through the panties till the cloth feels a wetter with your arousal and his saliva, need reaching it’s peak. you’re near ready to bed again, really. “i am helping. see?” his lips pucker to blow cool air over where you’re hottest for him, needy clit throbbing at all the attention as your breath hitches. you’d so get him back for all this, but for now all you can do is moan softly, hand lowering to thread your fingers through his hair. he wouldn’t deny you too long of course, never could.

he pulls the fabric aside with a tug, first sweep of his tongue against your bare cunt slow and devastating. you gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, and he groans into you like he’s the one being touched instead. his tongue flattens and drags and long stripe from your entrance to the needy bud tucked at the apex of your folds, lips suction there till you’re curling your toes from how good it feels. you tug on his hair to get him a little closer, thighs spread around his head, hips lifting in little bucks to feel more of his tongue greedily. a light smack to your inner thigh has you yelping softly, hips falling back to the sheets with just that.

“i have such..” satoru pulls away from you with one last slurp to gather your honeyed slick on his tastebuds, shifting a little so he can get his hands back down to your inner thighs, “an impatient girlfriend. so very impatient.” shiny gossamers of slick and spit connect your cunt on his mouth and he just grins, tongue dragging over the softness of his damp lips to snap them.

his thumbs swipe near the side of your folds, parting the slick swollen pair to expose more of you to his sight. his staring is unabashed, half dopey pussy drunk smile already spreading, head dipping to drag his tongue through the exposed pink. he loves it when you’re spread like this, when he can see every little flutter, how you clench around nothing. “missing my tongue already. just greedy.”

his eyes follow the rush slick that leaves you just from that, and you swear his pupils dilate a little more. satoru runs his tongue along his inner cheek and you don’t have much time to react before he’s spitting directly onto your folds with a soft, throaty sound of pleasure, watching it drip and mix with the rest of your slick in a sticky mess.

“so wet for me..” he mutters, voice almost reverent as he watches the way your cunt clenches around nothing in the dimly lit space. then he’s back on you, mouth messy and ravenous, tongue tracing circles over your entrance, then pushing in, curling and stroking as though he’s trying to memorize the feel of your insides. his nose nudges your clit, his thumbs stroke the edges of your lips as he feasts on you.

“d-don’t stop—hnng, toru--” you whimper, fingers threading tighter in his hair, hips grinding without any rhythm at all. satoru’s clear hum of pleasure reverberates through you, hands pulling off you – one finding place on the upper curve of your ass, the other moving a shorter distance up to your clit. familiar tips of his middle and ring finger circle your bud momentarily just till he’s pulling his mouth back again to free up your core, both sliding lower till they’re prodding your wet entrance. your pussy welcomes the intrusion almost eagerly and you keen loudly into the cool air, thighs shaking, calling out his name. “oh fuck,” he huffs, tongue dragging a slick path up your slit before latching onto your clit again, sucking with obscene wet pressure. “listen to her,” he pants, voice thick with arousal, “she’s so noisy for me, baby.”

lips wrapped around your clit and lengthy fingers inside you to the knuckle, you’re not sure you know a better combo. the sound of his fingers pumping in and out of you is downright nasty, sappy wet sloshes as he intrudes and pulls back out over and over again mixing with your breathy moans in the air. you’re not quite sure what you’d be upset before about this now really.

his lips suction around your clit again while his fingers scissor you open, sweet spot giving to the press of his fingers. he massages and curls his fingers into the spot relentlessly, solely breathing through his nose as he works you now. no time for pulling back when he needed to make his sweetheart cum, right? the twitch and growing weight in his boxers doesn’t go unnoticed, subtly humping into the sheets this whole time – this was about you, his boner is really the least of his concerns.

“g’nna make you cum..” he sings in a low voice, fingers fucking into you a little faster, tongue moving over your clit in fat wet swipes. the slick slosh of your juices floods his palm, heel practically humping the underside of your bud. “mm, you wanna cum right? wanna make a mess on my face?” his jaw and wrist is a mess with you, the sheets are surely a little soaked and he isn’t letting up for anything.

“uh huh. i wanna cum..i wanna- oohmygodddsatoru!—fuck!“ the tension that’s been hot and heavy curling in your gut finally snaps, tug his hair hard enough that you’re sure some strands pulled free (oops). your thighs shudder around his head through every bit of it of your orgasm expression twisted in the prettiest way, feeling his eyes on your face, mouth angled to let you finish right in his mouth. his own sounds are throaty, not so subtle humping getting jerky as hot ropes shoot against the front of his briefs unbeknownst to you. each pulse is sharper than the last, squeezing his fingers until he groans against your cunt, the vibration sending another shudder racing through you. he licks at you tenderly through all the pleasure, only amplifying your high, free hand keeping your thighs open when you’d tried to close them to run away from him.

when his fingers finally leave your spent heat and his tongue isn’t on your body, he's breathing as heavily as you are down where’s his cheek is smushed on your thigh. languidly licking at his fingers to savor your taste a little longer.

jaw wet, eyes glazed over. dopey ass grin spready on his pretty mouth. “not thinking about that paper now, are you?” god you love hate him.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　

cool baby wipes to the heat between your thighs and around his mouth has you two clean enough and cuddling for a good couple minutes after the orgasm he’d gotten out of you. quick change of his briefs too.

“10 minutes then we get back to work, hm? i’ll try to research and summarize.” even if the terms would probably have his mind all jumbled. didn’t matter though. “we’ll get some ice cream.”

you hum, shifting to nuzzle closer, thigh slipping between his two to get tangled up with him just a little more. he’s warm and he smells as good as he usually does – you can’t help it.

and if the ice cream wasn’t enough incentive for you?

“i’ll give you something better than my fingers if you get at least two more pages done.”

note: switched to all lowercase bc shift f3 wasn't being consistent </3

[spicyspiders]

too much

toji fushiguro x male reader smut

started watching jjk and i'm almost done with season 2. i added a few characters from the show to my masterlist, so I'll probably be writing for them next.

1.1k words

warning for a little out of characterness, if toji begging the reader to tell them how good he's making them feel is out of character.

“Open your eyes,” he says, his voice low in your ear. 

Your eyes stayed shut tightly, but it wasn’t like Toji could see, as he decided earlier to keep you face down on the bed as he got you ready for his cock.

He chuckles darkly into your ear before speaking again, “doesn’t matter. You can’t hide from this,” he pulls his cock all the way out before it goes right back inside, “from how good this feels,” he says, emphasizing his point by circling his hips against your ass. 

“Toji,” you whine when his hips still, leaving his cock as a long, hot intrusion deep within your body. 

“Hm?” Toji questions as he runs his hands up your back, his fingers dragging through the sheen of sweat that covers your body. “Finally going to give me what I want?” he asks before he drags his nails down the path he just mapped. The sensation edged on the line between pain and pleasure, reminding you of the way his cock felt as you clenched down around it. 

Was your body not enough? He now knew it intimately in ways many others did not, what more could you give him? “What do you want?” You ask after turning your head to lay your cheek onto the bedspread. 

“It’s easy to see how much you want this,” Toji responds before pulling back out again. This time when he goes back in, it’s faster, punching the breath from your lungs as his cock hits your prostate, “I want to hear you say it.”

“Get it over with,” you snapped in response. Though you couldn’t see his face, you could hear how absolutely smug his voice was. “I’m getting bored,” you turned face down back into the bed to hide your smirk. You definitely weren’t bored, if your hard cock was anything to go by, but you didn’t want to give him further satisfaction. 

“Fucking brat,” Toji growls before one of his large hands is wrapped around your neck to pull your body back. Your back meets his muscular chest before he starts thrusting at a brutal pace. “Tell me you want this,” he whispers into your ear. There’s an edge to his tone, one that you didn’t expect to hear. 

He was fucking pleading, no, begging for you to say what he wanted to hear. Stubbornly, you held back from saying the words, after all, it was quite hard to think of the words with how Toji’s cock was nailing your prostate. Instead, you grabbed one of Toji’s hands and brought it to your hard, leaking cock to try and get the point across. If he wanted to, he could even move his fingers lower to feel how tight your balls were, full and ready to shoot your spend from your cock.

“Is this not enough?” You bit out before you moaned. 

“Tell me,” Togi growls. His fingers, aided by the slick of your precum, move down to the base of your cock to wrap tightly around the base, staving off the orgasm that you already felt was building.

You try and fuck your hips forward and thrust your cock into the tight clench of his fingers, but Togi is too strong and fast. His other hand not wrapped around your cock moved to wrap around your stomach to keep you in place. You can’t tell if you’re at his mercy, or if he’s at yours, after all, all you had to do was swallow your pride to get him to keep going. 

You let all of your weight fall back onto Toji. Your head fell back onto one of his broad shoulders, and you grimaced at the stretch to your already bruised neck. “Toji,” your lips dragged along the shell of his ear as you whispered the words out, “please fuck me. I need it.”

Toji turned his head to face yours. In a quiet moment, his lips brushed yours in a whisper of a kiss. His hands moved slowly across your body, with goosebumps popping up behind the movements of his fingers. 

His lips finally met yours when his fingers finally settled on your hips. He was slower than earlier to start up the same pace, taking his time to map out your mouth with his tongue and swallow the moans you let out as his pace started to match the one from earlier. 

“Finally,” you moan against his lips when the kiss breaks.

”Fucking brat,” Toji repeats, nearly sounding fond, even though the next actions don’t show it as he manhandles you back down into the same spot on the bed. 

Toji lays his body down along your back as he fucks down into your hole. The groans and grunts he lets out rumble from his chest down into your own. When the vibration hits your heart, it makes it beat fast as blood courses through your body and pleasure runs through your veins. 

He brings your hips up off the bed, making his cock feel like it’s going deeper inside your body on every thrust inside. “Toji,” you say in warning when his fingers sneak down between your legs to wrap back around your cock, already knowing that it’ll only take a few tugs for you to cum. 

“I’ve got you,” Toji says against the back of your neck. His teeth bite into flesh when you finally cum. He groans around the flesh between his teeth as you clamp down on his cock as ropes of white shoot from your cock.   

When your brain finally comes back on, you’re left wondering why Toji holds your hips up. Is it because he doesn’t want you to fall into the messy spot you just made, or is it because he wants to mold you into the perfect form for his cock to fuck as deep as it can. 

You’re going to have bruises on your hips, just like the ones on your neck when Toji finally cums. It’s with a loud, drawn-out moan that bounces around the walls of the bedroom. The echo of it rings loudly through your ears, even after Toji has collapsed down on top of you, his cock softening inside your messy hole. 

He leaves no space between your bodies as you both come down. It’s so close that Toji’s cock is barely able to slip free, but it finally does when he turns you both onto your sides to avoid the mess you made. 

You wonder if you should break the silence as your sweaty bodies cool down, but Toji decides for you when you hear the sound of his snores from behind you. You laugh to yourself as you feel your eyes grow heavy. 

His body was like a furnace wrapped around yours. It made it easy to fall asleep without having to worry about not having a blanket to keep you warm. 

[lucidhalseys]

Hi can I request a fic of damon salvatore taking care of his sick gf?

yess <33 I am loving these requests and idk if you're the same anon but thank you.

in sickness and in health

damon salvatore x f!reader

summary: Damon can't die from a simple cold, but that doesn't stop him from constantly worrying that you will, and caring for you whenever needed.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

If you hadn't sat with Caroline through her sickness a week prior, you would've thought that someone had poisoned you. Well you suppose someone had, but Caroline's poisoning was inadvertent. You were the one who had chosen to take care of your ailing friend, and now you were being punished for it.

You could hear your phone vibrating from it's spot on the bedside table but you lacked the effort and energy to roll over in your king sized bed and grabbed it. Your apartment was blazingly hot for some reason, and all you could do was lay in a pile of your own sweat and groan.

Maybe you were dying.

You had no clue how long you had laid helplessly in bed before you could hear a key slide into the lock of your front door. You vaguely thought it might be someone coming to put you out of your misery, but anyone that would do that probably didn't have a key.

"Babe?" Damon's voice resonated through your still house, carrying up the stairs and into your open bedroom.

You groaned loud enough that there was no way his heightened senses missed it, and almost groaned at the nice rush of cold air he brought with his as he sped upstairs.

He seated himself on your bed lightly, a cool hand reaching out to slide across your forehead. "Jesus Christ, babe, you're burning up."

You had it in you to laugh a bit mockingly before a coughing fit took over. "I'm pretty sure I'm dying."

He took that a bit too seriously and a crease formed between his brows. He pulled you a bit closer to him, noticing the sweat forming on your neck. "How long have you been feeling this way?"

"Since I woke up, whenever that was. I don't know what time it is."

"It's almost four, which is why I showed up. We were set to have lunch at 3, and you're never late." Damon pulled his phone out, rapid firing off a few texts before pulling you into his arms and standing up.

You groaned against the movement and let out a little shiver. "Where are we going?"

His voice was a rumble in his chest against your cheek. "We are going to get you in the shower to try and break the fever while the reinforcements bring over some things we need."

"Shower." You knew that your parroting was weak but it was all you had in you at the moment, and Damon thought you were a mix of adorable and dying.

He got it warmed up while you sat on the toilet, head thrown back to lean against the wall and eyes squinted against the harsh overhead lights. When the water was ready, Damon lit a few candles around the bathroom and shut off the lights to stave off of your headache.

"I'll be running around the house doing a few things, yell if you need me." He gave you a peck on the forehead and you gave him your best smile as he exited the bathroom.

You don't know how long you sat in the shower, but you had to turn up the heat multiple times to get rid of the cold water encroaching from your time inside. You crawled out hesitantly, toweling off against the dizziness in your head and wrapping yourself in your robe.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you noticed that your bedroom had been transformed. Damon had not been lying about running around the house.

There were a few candles lit around the room and the overhead light was off, the only light from the candles, the green LED's behind your bed and the queued up show on the TV. Your recent favorite. Damon was splayed out on your bed with his ankles crossed, he had a pile of your favorite snacks and some steaming soup on the bedside table.

You crawled into bed next to him, the musk of his smell being almost all the medicine you needed. You curled in deep while he wrapped his arm around you and grabbed the TV remote, settling in for the long haul.

You'd never loved him more.