#It's supposed to be way more upward pointing

[oumaheroes]

Talk dover to me <3

'How hot is it?'

'It's hot.'

'Is it hot enough for me.'

'Francis, get the fuck in.' Arthur sat up and back further in the tub to make room, 'Stop looking at me like that; get in and shut the bloody door. You're letting all the heat out.'

'Oh, I thought it was hot enough.'

Arthur raised his eyes to the heavens and sank back lower into the water.

Francis shut the door and turned back to glare at him, 'You're taking up all the room.'

'You took too long.'

'Move.'

'I will when you get in.'

'You're insufferable. This is supposed to be relaxing. I'm supposed to enjoy this.' In a swift movement, Francis shucked off his (overly) fluffy bathroom, ‘Get out of the way.’

‘I will when you get in.’

Francis stepped one foot fully into the water with a wince and Arthur grinned, ‘Too hot?’

‘Arthur, I swear to God I will sit on your legs.’

‘I took the tap side for you.’

‘I appreciate the weaponry to hand. Move.’

Before Arthur could retort, Francis stepped fully into the tub and Arthur had to swiftly moved his legs out of the way to avoid tendon damage.

‘Look, you’ve flooded us.’ Arthur said, eyeing up the overflow along the tub’s rim from the wave made by Francis’ entrance. ‘That better not go through the carpet to the floorboards, we can’t afford to redo them after the kitchen.’

‘I’m surprised you have enough heart and feeling in your stingy heart to allow us to have this much water.’ Francis sank as deep as he could go, knees sharp mountains in the water, and closed his eyes, ‘Ugh, it’s been too long since I’ve had a bath. I needed this.’

‘Hmm.’ Arthur pulled one of Francis’ feel forwards to massage his calf, firm circles with his thumbs, ‘It’s rarely cold enough to be worth it.’

‘That’s a terrible opinion.’ Francis cracked open an eye, looking just behind Arthur and to the right, ‘As is the need to have the window open.’

‘I like the contrast.’

Francis shook his heard and closed his eyes again, ‘I think I’m going to quit.’

‘Finally.’

‘Yes, well. I had hopes. Growth upwards, more than anything currently improving.’

‘Move on to another station?’

Francis shrugged, ‘The chance for more responsibility. Menu choices, ideally.’

Arthur snorted and moved onto Francis’ other leg, ‘As if David would ever let you do that.’

‘He does for Nikhil.’

‘Nikhil is an arselick.’

‘Nikhil is also the level above. But even then, to just move off vegetables and fish. I hate fish, or I hate cooking fish. The smell gets everywhere.’

‘I don’t mind you smelling like a whore.’

Francis hit him with a sudden splash of water, Arthur catching the grin of his teeth right before he closed his eyes.

‘Stop it. Let me moan; don’t make me laugh.’

‘I would do no such thing willingly.’ Arthur lay back as much as he could with the awkward and hard metal of the tap, lolling his head against the wall with his arm slung over the ceramic to keep him from sliding. ‘Your unhappiness is my entire aim.’

Francis snorted and cupped water in his hands to tip onto the crown of his head, fingers raking through the strands.

‘Are you actually?’ Arthur asked after a moment, his hand going back to the meat of Francis’ calf, then the cool skin of his knee, ‘Going to quit; go somewhere else.’

Francis shrugged. ‘No. Yes. Inside, mentally, I quit ages ago. But today was just...’ he waved a hand lazily, ‘I don’t know how much longer. Not because it’s hard or bad but, what’s the point. Of being stuck somewhere that won’t change, clinging to something that left a long time ago.’

‘True, I-‘

‘Like you with me.’

Arthur froze, a coldness blooming in his stomach to spread like ice through his veins. He pulled his hand away and Francis eyed him, eyes flicking up and down.

‘How many years has it been?’ He asked, ‘Five? Six?’

Arthur tried to speak but managed only a croak. Swallowed, tried again, ‘Seven.’

‘Ah yes, seven.’ Francis looked around the bathroom, at the cracks that Arthur now remembered as being on the ceiling, the damp mildew stains along the tiles to pillow black in the grouting that hadn’t been there a second ago. ‘Too long, my love.’

Arthur couldn’t speak. He reach forwards, through still, tepid water to where Francis still lay bright and whole against clean ceramic and the vibrant colours of years before. His hands met nothing but the smooth other side.

Francis watched him, silent. There was something of pity in his expression, almost readable as contempt. ‘Arthur.’

‘No.’

‘You have to let me go, Arthur.’

‘Francis.’ Arthur pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, keeping the sound of Francis’ voice safe and away from the reality that his eyes could now see, ‘Please.’

‘It’s funny that this is where you see me.’ A soft splash, the gentlest movement of water, ‘Is this the only place that you have left? The last place you can call me back?’

It was. There had been others, especially right at the start. Francis in the kitchen, Francis in bed. Francis draped across the lounge sofa, hair in Arthur’s fingers, his warmth against his side. But the rooms were too large and the truth too heavy, too much to filter with so much space to repaint. As the years fell away, it became harder through the years to recall Francis there for more than a flash, and Arthur always needed more.

The bathroom, small and cramped in their little old flat, was still enough. Arthur could pull their relationship out there and unfurl it like a canvas, run through imaginary tapes of old conversations and quiet little moments to fill the space and coat it completely.

It still felt so real.

‘Your brothers are worried about you.’ Another splash, coming closer, ‘You look at least ten years older than you should.’

‘Stop. Please, don’t.’

‘Keeping me here is taking too much.’ Another splash. Arthur heard something lift out of the water, heard the plink plink plink of droplets falling from something tangible there with him. ‘How much life do you have left to waste on trying to get back the one that you lost?’

Arthur felt Francis’ hand on his cheek, his fingers cold and hard as bone. Arthur’s breath caught and he squeezed his eyes so tightly that he could hear a roaring of blood in his ears.

‘Are you waiting for me to say that I forgive you? Do you keep bringing me back here, dragging me up, because you hope that maybe I’ll say you’re not to blame? And, since I won’t, you instead play happier memories again and again and again-’ Francis squeezed hard, fingers digging in sharp to Arthur’s skin, ‘to avoid that day?’

Arthur tried to shake his head but couldn't, found his whole body was rigid and stuck. He tried to jerk away, kick his legs at the thing holding him there but his legs couldn’t move. The tap pressed sharply into his back, limescale cutting his skin.

‘Oh.’ The thing that still sounded like Francis tutted, ‘If only you hadn’t been drinking.’

A crash, a car. Night time, Coldplay’s Yellow lifting into the darkness as behind him on the verge... Whiskey on Arthur’s breath, he’d been at the limit but still-

The grip tightened, harder against Arthur’s teeth to force the bitter reality past the lie and into his mouth. ‘Didn’t you have just. One. More.’

Finally, Arthur opened his eyes.

It does not take long for flesh to decompose. Especially in the summer, especially when it was already so ruined, so open.

Nothing hung from Francis’ bones, nothing was left of his softness. His beauty vanished when his soul did, leaving only the shell of a thing that sits before Arthur in chilling water: empty darkness between ribs and cheekbones, picked clean by the creatures of the earth that he was returned to.

‘I’m sorry.’ Arthur whispered to it through its fingers, ‘I’m so, so sorry.’

‘I know.’ Francis’ voice is still in his head; the fused jaw did not move, ‘But that doesn't change anything, does it?’

-----------------

AN:

... I... This just happened and did not go quite according to the plan that I had in mind but we're rolling with it

[justchillandshipit]

A Few things to consider...

If we apply Tim's thinking about Buck's situation to Eddie, then Tim could put Eddie in a couple of relationships before his endgame with Buck. I just can't be normal about that. I'm probably the only one who is crazy like this. For Buck, I kind of understand it, and I'm not referring just to Tommy. Buck was with so many women. He really does know that side of himself very well. Buck is curious too, so I could see him dating a few men and maybe another woman without it lasting as long as his time with Tommy. I can see this type of exploration as brief but defining. It will help him narrow down and see what his 'type' might be in regard to men. (We know his type, and his learning will be part of his realization.) I just don't feel that same vibe for Eddie. He is the nester. Maybe he should have a few boyfriends first, but I'm just not reasonable about this so I'm going to let it go for now. I'll puke on that bridge when we get to it.

Side note semi-unrelated: I love a slow burn, but I don't want to wait another three seasons for Buddie either. Please stop the torture.

Things I loved about this episode. Buck. Always. Eddie. Always. lol Seriously, the whole Risky Business moment was golden. Shaving the stache was excellent. His admission that he wanted the full beard but it wasn't allowed and the Priest calling him out as wearing a mask--all of that is just superb. I loved the Buddie of it all. I loved the way Buck seemed to take in Eddie's appearance and then keep his eyes upward as he handed him the beer and walked past him. I loved the way, Eddie didn't hesitate to open the door half-dressed and just accepted that they were drinking tonight without any explanation as to why. Non-Buddie related: I love that Maddie is already pregnant. We don't have to go through a long process of whether they will get a child and be able to keep it the way we did with Henren. Fingers crossed for no miscarriages.

I'm glad Eddie did what the priest suggested as far as doing something fun, but I'm having a little disconnect with how he went from punishing himself to dancing around with no real progression into what brought him to this point. I need to watch it again. I may pick out more on a rewatch. We had parallels in this episode in a big way, but the well seems like a missed opportunity for Eddie to reflect on what happened when he was trapped in one and the decisions he made when he got out of it. We don't generally get two full-character episodes for the same character, do we? We saw Eddie moving forward, but I'm missing the strong motivator that will inspire him to 'Think."

I also need to think about what happened in the restaurant with the girl hitting on Buck. (was this the restaurant Tommy left him standing at before?) What a horrible choice for an anniversary date if it was. lol

Another question: Wasn't there supposed to be a flashback for Eddie in this episode? I know the Bobby/Buck scene got cut. I sort of hate that. I was looking forward to a Father/son moment for them. I do understand that they are limited with time though, so there we go.

Speculation: Eddie is now trying to embrace fun. Buck and Eddie will end up going to bars together at some point, even if Eddie is not looking for a date. We could see Buck in action picking up guys. We could see guys hitting on Eddie. We could see Buck having a reaction to that. We may also see, Buck going to that Laker's game with Eddie after all.

I see I've missed over 100 new posts. I'm betting someone has answered some of my questions already. lol

[monster-noises]

oh shit oh fuck I just fucking realized I did Laz's nose wrong in the Morning Painting drawing goddaMMIT fucK

[incognit0slut]

On camera

PART 4 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Roommate!Spencer x Camgirl!Reader Spencer requests to take on a more involved role in one of your live streams.

content: (18+) 4k, exhibitionism/voyeur, reader wears lingerie, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, overstimulation (surprisingly it’s him for once), and a hint of cockwarming at the end a/n: this is the second part to a special show although you don't necessarily have to read it to understand what’s happening. this took a while because… there was a little pressure? i didn’t expect people to wait on this i hope it lives up to the expectations, let me know what you think my cuties<3

You nudged your foot against his. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine."

"Are you sure? You've been quiet ever since you sat down."

He felt the words knot up in his throat. The quiet wasn’t hesitation, it was disbelief. The kind that lingered in the gap between what he imagined and what was happening. The lack of conviction that defied logic, even when he was the one who initiated to exist beyond just a pair of hands at the edges of the frame.

"Spence?”

He glanced at you. Deep pools of brown drowning in lust swept over the piece of lingerie you decided to put on tonight. Even without much fashion sense, Spencer could appreciate the soft frills of purple lace clinging to your figure. The garter belt wrapped snugly around your waist, leading down to thin straps that framed your smooth thighs, and every logical thought he tried to root out slipped away the longer he looked at you.

Wait. Purple?

Purple.

Although Spencer was sure it probably had a fancier, specific name that bordered on… lilac? Lavender? Or something else elusive he couldn’t quite pin down. To him it was just purple. He might not have the vocabulary to describe the exact shade, but he knew the way it looked on you was nothing short of captivating.

“You’re wearing purple.”

The frown creased between your brows as you tried to make sense of his sudden observation.

“I am.” Your lips formed a slight pout. “And you still haven’t answered my question.“

And he still couldn’t bring himself to answer.

“I thought you were supposed to be Princess Pink?”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. It was true. Pink was your color. The soft, playful blush had always been part of your alter ego. You shifted on your feet, glancing down at the purple lace hugging your hips before meeting his eyes again. A small, hesitant smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and for a moment, you looked almost… shy.

“Well, yeah,” you admitted, your voice so soft it dipped into a tone he wasn’t used to hearing from you. Your fingers traced the edge of the fabric absently, and you glanced away again as if finding the floor more interesting.

“I thought maybe… it might help, you know? Calm your nerves or something.” The nervous laugh creeping out of you sounded strained. “I know you like purple… so I figured…”

The corner of his lips curled upwards. His smile reminded you of the times he caught you off guard with a look that was equally amused and deeply affectionate as if he couldn’t believe his luck.

“You wore it for me?”

You felt warmth rise to your neck but decided there was no point in hiding it. “I thought it might make this less scary for you.”

His smile faltered. “I’m not scared.”

“Spencer, you’re about to get naked.”

“You’ve seen me naked before.”

You couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. He stated it so plainly with no hint of self-consciousness or hesitation. And technically, he was right. You had seen him completely, wholly bare more times than you could count by now ever since that first night you stripped away his innocence.

You still remembered how you had pulled him across the line from a curious roommate to someone who wanted to know every inch of your body. And that night turned into another, and then another, until what you were doing stopped being about one-off hookups and started blurring the boundaries you’d drawn between friendship and something more. Something you couldn't quite put your finger on that felt heavier than lust but not quite defined as love.

Spencer was a roommate, a friend, a lover, and eventually, an active participant in your live streams.

His hands were, at least.

You took a step forward, slipping between his legs where he sat comfortably at the edge of your bed. “I have seen you naked,” you agreed, “but they haven’t.”

His hands hovered at your waist, fingers twitching over your lace as if he wasn’t sure where to put them. He glanced up at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips before he finally admitted, “Okay… maybe I am a little nervous.”

“I know, but you don’t need to be. Think of it this way, the people who are going to see us will only be jealous of you.”

“Why would they be jealous of me?”

“Because you’re the one who gets to be with me.” You reached up to brush his hair back from his face, tucking those long, unruly strands behind his ear. “They’re in their rooms jerking off to a screen while you get to kiss me.”

A kiss fell on his lips.

“Touch me.”

Another peck.

“And fuck me.”

He chased your lips this time, his mouth puckering before he closed the gap. His words were muffled against you, “I am pretty lucky.”

“The luckiest,” you mumbled back. A soft smack of a kiss lingered in the air when you pulled away. “And you don’t have to worry, once we get started, you’ll be too distracted to remember what you were even nervous about.”

He hummed, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest as his grip on your waist tightened. “I think you might be right.”

“Good.” You moved to the side of the bed. “Now let me set up the camera.”

The tripod attached to the top of your computer screen wobbled slightly as you fiddled with it, adjusting the device until the lens angled down. You observed the setup, making sure it captured your body and the way Spencer’s hand rested on your waist without revealing either of your faces.

Perfect.

“You ready?”

Surprisingly, he was.

With a slight nod from him, you turned on the live stream.

Princess_Pink is online.

Spencer’s eyes widened as the chat erupted in a flurry of notifications, messages pouring in so rapidly they blurred into an endless stream of words.

“That’s a lot of people," he muttered under his breath.

“That’s the usual amount of people.”

“No, it’s not,” he countered. “I can’t even keep up with the chat.” Which was saying a lot. For someone who could read entire pages of text in mere seconds, this was overwhelming in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

“Don’t let them intimidate you.” You turned around and slipped between his legs again, feeling the way his knees instinctively parted to make space. “Just focus on me.”

Spencer barely managed to nod before your lips met his again, and with that, everything else seemed to dissolve. He could never quite get used to how effortlessly you could unravel him with just a kiss. His hands slid up the back of your thigh, the rough pads of his fingers brushing over your skin as they trembled slightly, grazing the delicate strap of your garter before settling firmly on your ass.

A surprised giggle bubbled out of you.

“Easy there,” you murmured, catching his bottom lip gently between your teeth before letting it go with a playful tug. “I have to greet them first.”

He reluctantly loosened his grip, letting his fingers linger on you for a final moment before slipping away to rest at his sides. His eyes remained fixed on you as you turned away, shifting your focus back to the screen and reaching over to the mic.

A faint hum filled the room as it came to life. Spencer could feel his breaths gradually falling into sync before your sweet voice cut through the silence like honey.

“Hi, boys,” you purred, letting the greeting roll off your tongue. “Did you miss me?"

Princess.no1.fan: Princess!!! JadenCums: we missed those tits Adam_4432: fucking hot as always Adam_4432: purple looks good on you Crazydick: who's the skinny loser at the back

You rolled your eyes as the comment popped up in the chat.

“This is getting old,” you said with a sigh, fingers hovering over the mouse. “You’re all obsessed with him.”

With a quick flick of your wrist, you blocked the troll and watched with satisfaction as his name disappeared from the list. Spencer tried to peek over your shoulder. “What did they say?”

“Nothing important,” you replied lightly, brushing it off as you turned back to the mic. "Didn’t I tell you guys to play nice?”

Princess.no1.fan: i always play nice with you JadenCums: they’re just jealous of your boy toy Adam_4432: ignore the haters, babe BigBoss88: let him stay in the background ThickNick: you're gorgeous princess

“Remember, if you can’t behave, you don’t get to stay. And I don’t think any of you want to miss out on what we've prepared."

That was his cue, right? He forced down the tightness in his throat, the sensation catching and shifting like a dry click as his pulse quickened. With a quiet exhale, he slipped off the edge of the bed and made his way behind you.

There was a moment of hesitation. But his doubt faded into the background as he focused on the curve of your waist beneath his fingers. He let his hands move slowly, tracing upward with a touch that lingered at the dip of your spine until his fingers brushed the delicate lace of your bra.

Wide hands covered the soft swell of your breasts.

Princess.no1.fan sent a $50 gift.

“See?” you breathed, pressing your back against him. “You play nice, you get to enjoy the show.”

He couldn’t help but squeeze your flesh, fingers sinking in and then pulling back, the skin dimpling under the pressure before slowly springing back. His veins looked prominent, winding up his forearm like delicate, raised lines that caught the light on camera every time he moved over the fabric of your bra.

And the lace offered the thinnest barrier. He could feel the way your nipple firmed underneath his touch, straining subtly as if it, too, was reaching out for more. He traced small, lazy circles around it, and when you arched into him, he had to bite back a smile. He pressed a kiss on your shoulder instead.

“You’re so good at this,” you muttered, letting your hand drift up to the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair.

He let out a quiet hum of acknowledgment, his fingers hooking under the edge of your bra’s cup before pulling it down. Your breasts bounced slightly, settling naturally in his palm as the lace slipped away.

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

A soft moan escaped you as he began to explore, and Spencer couldn’t help the surge of satisfaction that followed. He was rougher than he intended to be at times, testing the line between what made you shiver and what made you push back for more. It was the way he rolled both of your nipples between his fingers, alternating between gentle pinches and firmer twists, that finally drew the most telling reaction—a subtle, instinctive rub of your ass against him.

He took it as a sign to touch you further, one hand drifting lower while the other stayed firmly in place. Goosebumps prickled over your skin as he slid down your stomach until he reached the edge of your panties. His fingers skimmed along the waistband, and you could feel his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as he brushed his knuckles underneath the delicate material, hesitating.

Adam_4432 sent you a $100 gift.

That was enough to break through his hesitation. Without a word, he slipped his fingers beneath the lace.

The heat between your thighs greeted him, and there was no mistaking what that meant. You were wet, so wet that his fingers glided over your folds like silk. He couldn’t help but feel a flicker of smugness as each subtle shift seemed to draw a new sound from your lips.

He let his fingers slide lower, searching, and when he finally found your clit, brushing his fingertips lightly over it, you jerked in his arms. The tiny, sensitive nub was swollen and begging for attention as it pulsed under his touch like a racing heartbeat. He gave gentle rubs. Slow circles. Steady pressure. The more he explored, the more your arousal smeared against his fingertips.

“Oh—you’re gonna make me cum so fast,” you gasped. You threw your head back against his shoulder, letting out a whine you knew would drive your viewers wild. “What do you think, boys? Should he make me cum now?”

The chat lit up instantly, flooded with messages begging you to let go, but between the rapid scroll of usernames and flashing emojis, one message caught your eye.

Looking4Sluts: no Looking4Sluts: cum on his cock Looking4Sluts sent you a $200 gift.

The notification flashed across the screen, and you felt a surge of adrenaline, a wicked smile playing on your lips. “Do you see that, baby?”

He nodded against your neck.

“They want more of you,” you purred, letting your hips roll back against him, pressing yourself closer to his obvious erection. “They want to see just how good you make me feel.”

Your words went straight to his cock. His touch suddenly changed as he began to move faster against your clit, and a choked gasp spilled from your lips. But just as the pressure started to build rapidly, you quickly grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand from your panties.

“No, not yet,” you stopped him, turning your head to catch his ear, your lips brushing against the shell. “Wanna cum on your cock.”

He watched as you reached down and slowly hooked your fingers into the sides of your panties, sliding them down your legs. A thin string of your arousal followed as you lowered the fabric, clinging to the lace before it finally broke and left a glistening trail against your thigh.

His balls tightened painfully.

Princess.no1.fan: Holy shit, that’s so fucking hot JadenCums: fisting my cock so hard Fatcock_777: wreck that damn pussy PussyLover69: i bet she’s fucking tight Looking4Sluts: jesus christ, she’s dripping

Spencer’s mind emptied the moment you leaned forward, planting your palms firmly on the desk for balance. The way your body arched made his pulse stutter, a surge of heat rushing through him so quickly it almost left him lightheaded.

“Like… this? Standing?”

You glanced back at him over your shoulder. “Exactly like this.”

He could barely think straight. His hands moved on their own, one sliding over your hips, gripping you firmly, while the other fumbled with his waistband, desperately tugging his pants down. The fabric slid down over his thighs, and he bit back a groan as his cock sprang free, hard and aching, pressing against the bare skin of your ass.

He could feel the heat of you against him, and it took every ounce of self-control to keep himself from sinking into you all at once. He pressed in closer, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse echoing in the ache between you both as the tip of his cock settled right where your folds parted. He rocked his hips in shallow motions.

“Baby…” You tilted your hips just enough to align with him, “no teasing."

But hearing those words only made him want to draw it out even more. He let his bulging head nudge at your hole, barely dipping in before pulling back, feeling the way you instinctively pressed against him.

"Spe—" you faltered, then groaned. "Stop it."

He couldn’t help but smile as his fingers found the straps of your garter belt. He tugged on one gently, watching the elastic snap back against your skin. "But you look so pretty."

"I'll look prettier with your cock inside me."

That did it. With one last shaky exhale, Spencer gripped your hips firmly and began to sink himself into you, feeling the tight, warm stretch of your cunt.

“Oh my god,” you gasped. He felt a slight resistance as your body adjusted to him. He carefully gave a few gentle thrusts, easing in and out just enough for you to relax.

Looking4Sluts: fuck yes JadenCums: she's so fucking tight PeachyKeen420: look at him stretching her PussyFiend69: just watching this is gonna make me cum HotForTits: Fuck her harder dude she wants it

His eyes flickered to that last comment, and something inside him shifted, like a switch flipping. Without another thought, without any lingering trace of hesitation, he tightened his grip on your hips and pushed in all at once.

Your moan tore through the air. So. Fucking. Loud.

HotForTits sent you a $300 gift

The notification flashed across the screen, but Spencer barely registered it, his control was slipping further away as his hips moved on their own. He started to grind into you, eyes traveling to your connected bodies. You were practically swallowing his cock, clenching so tightly around him that he felt like you were pulling him deeper, refusing to let him go.

In a way, you did beg for it. Each time you met his thrusts with an eager roll of your hips, the sound of skin slapping together echoed around you. He would have thought he’d be shy doing this in front of so many watchful eyes, but the way you moved against him made it impossible to care.

It only made him bolder. He let his hand slide up your back, fingers fumbling slightly with the clasp of your bra before he unhooked it. The straps slipped down your shoulders, sliding down your arms, and then you were completely, utterly naked, except for the garter hugging your thighs.

You were so pretty like this, so incredibly beautiful it made his pulse stutter in his veins. You were so pretty that it was almost disorienting, as if looking at you too long might make him forget where he was. And in his mind, all the lofty notions of beauty and art seemed to fall flat compared to seeing you like this. He needed to see all of you.

A startled whimper left your lips when he suddenly pulled out.

“Can you angle the camera down?"

There was a knowing look in your eyes. Your fingers moved to adjust the tripod, and he wasted no time stripping himself. By the time you were done angling the camera, he was already sitting on the edge of your bed, his cock throbbing against his stomach.

He looked painfully hard. Hard enough that every heartbeat seemed to pulse visibly along his length. You crawled onto his lap.

“Hi.”

His palm found the curve of your hip. "Hi."

“Are you okay?”

He nodded, his fingers tightening around the base of his cock as he urged you to lift your hips. “I think I’m starting to understand why you do this.”

“Yeah?”

"Mhm.” He nudged his tip between your folds. “It’s kind of exciting.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, fingers curling into his shoulder for balance as you began to lower yourself. “See? Nothing to be nervous about.”

A deep groan escaped his lips the moment your walls tightened around him. “You make this seem easy.”

“Maybe you’re just a natural.”

He gave a low chuckle, but it caught in his throat when he felt the full length of his cock buried inside you. “I… ah… I think you’re the one making me look good.”

“Shut up,” you replied with a grin, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “You don’t need any help looking good right now, trust me.”

Spencer wasn’t entirely sure what to think about that. He’d never seen himself like this, not in the way you did. But when he glanced over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the screen and the way your hips rolled over him, he started to believe it.

He looked like… well, like the porn he’d watched late at night in his room before you came along. But better. The kind that didn’t seem real, the kind that made him question if anyone actually had sex like that. He knew the vast majority of what’s portrayed in porn is exaggerated with only a small percentage even close to reality. Except this was real. It was really him, and you made it look like he knew what he was doing.

And sure, maybe he did in some way, albeit you being his only real experience. But that was the thing—he knew what made you tick. He could read the way your body reacted, knew the subtle cues that signaled when a whisper of his fingers could coax out a whimper or when the right shift of his hips would leave you trembling. And more than anything else, he knew how much you liked being watched.

He knew just how much it turned you on.

With that thought in mind, Spencer grabbed the firm swell of your ass and spread you open.

JadenCums: fuck yes FatCock69: she’s so wet BigdickXX: damn, I wish I could feel that pussy ILovePinkPrincess: spread her wider TommyGoode sent you a $200 giftDaddyDom92 sent you a $300 gift.

Your body squirmed beneath his hands.

“Babe… what are you doing?”

He ran his tongue over his lips. “Giving them what they want.”

Then he spread your flesh even further, fingers digging into your supple skin as he held you open. The sight was undeniably lewd, and yet he couldn’t deny the surge of pride swelling in his chest as he held you like this, putting you on full display. But more than that, it was what you wanted. The tension coiled in his muscles as he thrust his hips up, watching the movement play out in the reflection over his shoulder.

He could see everything. The slow drag of his cock, the way it stretched you open with each push, leaving no inch of you untouched. Every time he thrust up into you, his length came back slick and shining, catching the light for a split second before disappearing inside you again.

There was something hypnotic in the rhythm, in the way your body seemed to swallow him whole. And somewhere in that steady push and pull, you visibly clenched around him, a vice-like grip that sent a shudder through his body and pulled a deep, harsh groan from his throat.

His hands tightened their grip on you, and before he could think twice, his hips began moving faster. You squealed, an actual high-pitched sound that he hadn’t expected. It was almost cute in a way—if cute was even the right word for what was happening. But there was nothing cute about the way his body reacted to that sound.

His hips bucked upward, again and again by an instinct he couldn’t control. He was so lost in the sensation of your warm, slick pussy that he barely registered the rising tension in his own body. It wasn’t until his muscles locked up, his hips jerking with one final, forceful snap, that it all crashed over him.

Oh shit.

A sudden rush of heat coursed through him as he spilled inside you, the realization hitting him a second too late. His breath came in shallow gasps, a deep groan escaping his throat as pleasure overwhelmed him, leaving him stunned and gasping for air.

You paused, feeling the unmistakable warmth of his release slowly seep inside you. “Baby?”

His eyes widened. “I’m sorry,” he blurted, sliding his hands up your waist. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—that was—”

Fast didn’t even come close to describing what happened.

You cut him off with a soft laugh, shaking your head as your fingers gently cupped his jaw. “Oh, honey,” you cooed. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

His eyes flickered to the camera behind you. “I ruined everything, didn’t I?”

You followed his gaze, then turned back to him with a smile. “Of course not,” you said softly, threading your fingers through his hair. “You kind of made everything better, actually.”

His brows knitted together. “I did?”

You nodded and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“Do you know…”

You started to roll your hips again.

“How hot it is…”

A soft squelch filled the air.

“To fuck with your cum inside me?”

He could barely comprehend the words that had just left your mouth, let alone the feeling of you moving against him. His eyelids struggled to stay open, the question catching in his throat before it spilled out in a breathy whisper. “Hot?”

“Insanely hot.”

Spencer couldn’t describe what happened after that. Obscene didn’t even begin to cover it. Surreal, maybe? But even that word felt lacking. It was all too real. You were rocking your hips on his lap, and the wet, sticky sounds filling the room were undeniably his own doing.

He held your hips tighter, half in an effort to steady himself, half because he didn’t know what else to do. The words were gone. Logic was gone. The only thing that existed was you, grinding against him with the same intensity that had already undone him once.

And he knew he was going to lose it again.

You leaned forward, your forehead pressing gently against his. “Spence, baby,” you whispered, making sure your voice was soft, just loud enough that only he could hear. “Can you fuck me again?”

He couldn’t say no even if he tried. His hands slipped beneath your thighs, fingers curling with just enough force to lift you, tilting your hips for better leverage. The shift pulled a startled gasp from you and you clung to him for balance, but he didn’t give you a moment to catch your breath. His hips met yours in a swift, demanding snap.

The sound of your body meeting was unmistakable, a rhythmic slap that would’ve made him blush if he were in any state to think clearly. But right now, all he could focus on was the mess he’d made of you, the way his cum seeped out, sliding down his cock in slow drips. Whenever he thrust into you, there seemed to be more spilling out, leaving thick, creamy streaks painted across your inner thighs.

Spencer had messy sex before (all with you, of course) but this was on a whole different level. It was chaotic—unapologetically filthy. The wetness between you spread everywhere. He could feel it pooling against his thighs, trickling down your legs, and the damp sheets beneath you were clinging uncomfortably to his knees while the heady scent of sex hit his nostrils.

And your voice wasn’t helping his self-control. It was high-pitched with a tremor, somewhere between a moan and a desperate whine tumbling out in a jumble of words that barely made any sense. Your voice grew higher each minute, more frantic, until finally, he could make out a few clear words through the haze.

“Gonna c-cum,” you moaned, “I’m gonna cu—ah fuck yesyesyes—”

A final, helpless cry pushed him over the edge.

He came for the second time tonight. He tried to hold back, but the way you were clenching around him, your body pulsing through your sudden orgasm tore down what little control he had left. He groaned, burying his face in your neck as his release overtook him again, shocked that he still had anything left to give as he emptied inside you.

The intensity bordered on painful. He could feel his body pushing to its limits and every pulse of pleasure felt like it was wringing him dry. And it was no less intense for you. You jerked against him, body twitching, sweat beading on your skin. Your muscles tightened and relaxed with the rhythm of his racing heartbeat as the last spark of pleasure finally washed over you.

Neither of you moved for a while after that. The only sound in the room was your labored breathing, the heavy rise and fall of your chests pressed together.

You were the first to break the silence.

“Baby,” you hummed, a soft, breathless laugh escaping your lips, “I think that might’ve been the hottest stream we’ve ever done.”

It took a second for your words to sink in, and when they did, his eyes widened slightly. The camera was still on. The audience was still there. His nose pressed harder against your neck as he tried to hide in embarrassment.

“Really? You’re getting shy now?“

His soft groan vibrated against your skin. “I wasn’t exactly thinking about the camera,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your neck. “It left my mind the moment I… you know.”

You smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Oh, I know. I could tell.”

You started to peel yourself off of him, only for his arms to tighten around your waist. You gave a playful tap on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Holding you.”

“Why?”

“My brain needs a moment to process this.”

Your hand danced aimlessly across his back. “Still embarrassed?”

“Mortified,” he confirmed.

A giggle slipped out of you, and you wiggled your hips. “We still need to clean up. I don’t think you want to stay like this forever.”

He let out a sound of protest but didn’t loosen his grip. “Just a few more minutes.”

Smiling at his stubbornness, you slid your fingers into his hair, letting your nails scrape lightly against his scalp. "Spencer," you said gently, making sure the mic didn't pick up your voice. “I need to turn off the cam.”

"They wouldn't mind watching us a little longer."

You sighed, feeling the undeniable stickiness between your thighs. It wasn’t the most comfortable feeling, and the warmth was quickly turning into a mess that would need attention sooner rather than later. But there was something so sweet about the way he wanted to hold you that it made it impossible to resist.

"Fine," you relented with a quiet laugh, "five more minutes."

[bbbbbbbbatman]

Once Batman has revealed his identity to the JL, and after some strong encouragement from Superman and Wonder Woman, Bruce decides to try to start being a bit more "personable" with the rest of league. They've been colleagues for a decade and he trusts them all, and according to Clark and Diana this means there's no need for his whole mysterious "shadow of the night" bit, so he invites the league to dinner at the manor.

It is raining heavily, and even though it's not that late, it's nearly pitch dark but for the frequent lightning strikes. The league arrives together at Wayne Manor and the wrought iron gates stretch upward before them, ending in spikes at the top with ivy overgrown across them. They stand there, uncomfortable, wet, a bit weirded out, wondering how they're supposed to get passed the gates.

"This is creepy, right?" Hal says. "It's not just me?"

A voice. "Hello." As the league turns to the sound, thunder claps loud enough to startle everyone as lightning strikes, illuminating a small child standing on the other side of the gates that was definitely not there a second ago. He stands motionless under an umbrella, seemingly unbothered by the rain, expression vaguely irritated, and his eyes seem to flash green in the light. "I have been instructed to escort you inside."

The child doesn't move in any way but the gates slowly swing open, the creaking sounds sound straight out of a horror movie. Once they are fully opened, the boy turns and starts walking down the path without a word.

The league, some members quite freaked out at this point, follow him after exchanging some looks. They round a bend in the path and the manor comes into view. It is a massive dark structure, rising from the ground. Another lightning strike illuminates pointed spires, jagged edges, and it's gloomy, gothic nature. The sound of bats shrieking can be heard in the distance over the rain.

The league finally arrives at the front door, cold, wet, and thoroughly discomfited. An old man, a butler, looking out of time, opens the door, the child disappears inside. The butler welcomes everyone inside graciously but with a distant politeness. Despite the appearance of the exterior, the inside is well lit with warm light and seems inviting, though ostentatious. The league is relieved.

Until another massive lightning strike and thunder clap cuts the power off and the room is pitch black.

"Oh, you're here," a deep voice says from somewhere up above. No sooner are the words out than another lightning strike illuminates a dark, hulking figure on the staircase that was also definitely not there a second ago. At least two people scream.

Bruce is wildly confused as to why his guests are screaming, he didn't think any of them were afraid of the dark? The back up generator kicks on and the lights come back on and everybody seems to calm down. The rest of the dinner seems to go well (as well as a dinner can with the justice league and all of Bruce's kids) but strangely, to Bruce's confusion, it somehow only made his "spooky" reputation worse. He's not really sure why the whole league seems to think he lives in a haunted house.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Locker Room

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, enemies-ish to lovers, sexual tension, arguments, suggestive themes, intimate touching, teasing, dirty thoughts

A/N: For @glitterypirateduck 's Ghost Writing Challenge. I used prompts 43, 97, & 99. (I had so much fun challenging myself to do this all in one go. I set a timer and everything.)

After finding an infuriating note on your desk, you confront Simon in the communal locker room.

Part Two // Simon's POV

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist

Beneath your skin is an inferno.

It’s not the kind that blazes for another, or burns in tandem with a deep yearning. This is just seething anger and blunt frustration.

You’re ready to knock out some fucking teeth.

How dare he? Who the fuck does Lieutenant Riley think he is?

When you return reports to Captain Price, you point out all the inconsistences and errors. The lack of accountability and absolute carelessness has been scratching at you for ages, and this time you had enough. Usually Price shrugs, fixes whatever you’ve marked—to a degree—and then returns them without argument.

This time? Price took one look at them and told you to talk to Simon.

Not a problem. No issue at all. You and Lieutenant Riley have always been on good terms. Sometimes, it’s been more than good. You’ve caught him staring for far too long, or he stands a bit too close as if the two of you are a couple and not coworkers. And while you’ve internalized the fantasy, it’s not like you’ve ever acted on it.

But now you’re just irritated.

You handed over the files yesterday evening, and this morning you found them back on your desk. It’s not the turnaround but Lieutenant Riley’s audacity of placing those files back on your desk with a singular sticky note.

The reports are just fine, sweetheart.

Sweetheart. Sweetheart?

The other day you imagined what it might be like to have the burly, masked man call you a pet name, but this is just fucking condescending.

Your heels clack sharply against the linoleum floor. Perhaps it’s the rage in your face, because every person you meet on your rampage steps out of your way, their gaze averted. Rounding a corner, you exit through a side door and into one of the hangars. A few people glance up, frowning, but return to their job.

Sighing heavily, you approach the nearest person. “Where’s Lieutenant Riley?”

The young man—who looks right out recruitment—glances up. He swallows and peers over his shoulder as if he’s not sure he’s supposed to say. “Locker room, ma’am?”

“Thank you,” you reply sharply, turning on your heel and heading for another door leading to the communal gym.

“But—” he begins, stumbling to his feet as you charge on. “Ma’am! You can’t—”

The door slams shut behind you and you don’t look back.

This is one of several communal spaces. There are the usual training areas on base but there are also a few gyms for those that want to get a bit of extra work in. Every head turns toward you and many don’t look away. This one is just for the men, and you’re the odd duck.

And fuck it. You don’t care. You’re too fucking mad right now to think of anything else but giving Lieutenant Riley a piece of your goddamn mind.

With everything pumping in your veins, the reality of you storming toward the locker rooms hasn’t even dawned. Hasn’t clicked. Fury laces your every step, and even here, where you’re not supposed to be, the men in your path move as if they sense the rage.

When you burst through the door and meet a wall of steam, all the heat suddenly extinguishes. Glancing around, you’re met with wide-eyed stares and surprised expressions.

Keeping your gaze as upward as you can, you clear your throat. “Where is Lieutenant Riley?”

There is only silence. Maybe if you stare at the top of the lockers for long enough, you’ll somehow gather your courage again.

“I asked where Lieutenant—”

“I’m right here.”

You turn abruptly and freeze.

Lieutenant Simon Riley stands before you in nothing but a towel. It hangs low on his hips. Other than that, the bottom-half of his face is covered up by a black mask and his dog tags dangle from his neck. His hair is a wet, tussled mess, and his chest glistens with water like he just stepped out from the shower.

Simon simply stares at you for a moment as you stand in utter silence. His gaze, which is piercing and fierce, slides away to scan the room. He doesn’t have to say anything. The rest of the men in the room grab bags and clothes, rushing to exit through the door you just entered from.

When the last man leaves, Simon rolls his shoulders, straightening his spine. It makes him appear larger, more intimidating, and that one movement draws forth a heat in your belly. This isn’t anger. This is need.

“I know what you came here for,” he says, and it’s so casual a tone that the earlier rage comes rising up.

“I’m sure you do,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

Simon says nothing. His dark eyes remain on you, unmoving and cold, yet pinning you to the spot as if you’ve been impaled by a spear.

“Are you going to apologize?”

“Why?” he asks automatically.

You scoff. “Are you fucking serious?”

“You didn’t come here for an apology.”

You uncross your arms and hold them out in front of you, bent at the elbows. “The reports—”

“The reports are fine.”

You roll your eyes and throw your hands up in the air. “There are inconsistencies everywhere. I can’t submit them as they are.”

Simon rolls his neck and then strides forward. Instinct has you stepping back, moving away, but you bump into a row of lockers. He doesn’t stop until he’s leaning over you, one large hand pressing into the metal to the side of your head.

“You’re nitpicking,” he replies.

“About lazy writing?”

“Oh, love. I assure you. I’m thorough.” At that, Simon leans in, and your hands rise instinctually, pressing against his firm chest.

Simon’s gaze doesn’t drop from your face. His entire attention is on you and that heat is back, twisting in your stomach, stirring up a slickness between your legs.

“Lieutenant,” you breathe, wanting the need between your legs to leave but also loving how close he is.

Sure, you’re pissed off but my god. The fresh scent of him is intoxicating, and you’re doing everything in your power not to lean in and lick up the droplet of water running along the side of his throat.

“Why did you come here?” He waits a beat, and when you don’t reply, Simon continues. “To argue?” He lightly pinches your bottom chin, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip, dragging it down a bit. You open your mouth involuntarily and Simon makes at sound in his throat that makes your legs weak. “To see me?” He leans in like he’s about to kiss you. “To be alone?”

“I didn’t ask for this,” you whisper.

Simon has you caged in. Pinned. The only thing separating your body and his is that towel.

“Why do you think everyone left when they did?” Simon’s thumb drops away from your lips only to press at the hollow of your throat. “It’s not because you walked in.”

“Why?” you ask, as Simon’s thumb drags lowers over your top to the space between your breasts.

“Because you’re mine. And they know it.”

“You—what?” Without anywhere to go, you can’t escape his intense stare.

“I’m staking a claim.”

“Lieutenant—”

“Simon,” he growls. “Call me Simon.”

“Simon,” you say, and he groans.

His dog tags brush against your fingers. The metal is slightly cool and damp. You curl on finger around the chain, and tug, bringing Simon’s face down to yours. If he can tease and touch, you’re going to do the same. He can’t have all the power.

Your lips brush against his through the mask, and Simon’s eyelids begin to close, revealing his gentle submission in this moment. Deepening the movement, you kiss him as if there were no barrier. This time, he truly groans, and you’d give anything to remove the barriers between you and find out what it’s like to feel him deep inside.

Fisting his dog tags in your hand, you shove him away, but only enough that there is a fraction of distance.

“Fix the fucking reports, Simon.”

Instead of kissing him again, or even touching him, you unclench your fist, releasing the dog tags. Slipping under his arm, you exit through the door and out into the gym, leaving a trail of steam in your wake.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth

@miaraei @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666

@unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @enfppuff

@cinnabeanz @berarenado @rogerrhqpsody @josephquinnschesthair @saoirse06

@therealbloom @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf

@lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien

@xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project

@burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605

@contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic

@suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior

[lina-lovebug]

I'd Fight The Devil

Alastor x fem! reader

Background: (Y/N) is the elder Morningstar, and wants to fix her relationship with her dad. But her dad hates her boyfriend.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 - Finale

Allusions to sex, actual sex, angel being angel, and cannibalism

_____

Angel spit out his drink, "You're with Alastor?!"

"Yeah, thoughts?"

"And prayers, girl," Angel could never imagine a sweet girl like (Y/N) getting it on with the Radio Demon himself.

But everyone has their kinks, he supposed.

Alastor manifested behind her, and she immediately felt his presence. Pressing herself against him, he leaned into her warmth and kept his arms around her shoulders.

"How was your day, mon amour?"

"It'll be even better," She trailed off, turning around to face him, "when we meet my dad for dinner."

Silence.

And not even radio silence.

"Not to be rash, but I'm sure your father would sooner see my head on a pike than on my body," Alastor adored the fact that she was mending their bond, even more so when Lucifer makes the effort.

But announcing their relationship to him?

He could see it ending in flames.

"I know you two don't get along, but I thought a nice dinner might smooth things over."

"And if he disapproves of us?" He lifted her head upwards with his finger, bemused as to what her answer may be.

"Then he'll have to get used to it," (Y/N) replied, sending a shiver of excitement up his spine.

Only a feeling that the she-devil he was utterly obsessed with could provide.

"Ugh, can you guys go fuck somewhere else?" Angel said, "or at all? I can't imagine going a lifetime without dick."

Alastors eye twitch, "now that's our business, isn't it?"

"Okay, okay," Charlie spoke up, "you guys go get ready."

Charlie couldn't help but notice the change in Alastor. It had only been a few months, but being in her sisters presence alone has made him kind. Sure, the both of them would skin someone alive over an insult, but Alastor would rip out his own eyes if (Y/N) asked.

A perfect match.

(Y/N) dawned a black dress with a pearl necklace that Alastor bought for her. Well, she thinks he bought it but he actually stole it off of a fresh kill.

How sweet.

"Pumpkin! Oh look at you! You're as radiant as ever!" Lucifer fawned over his daughter as they made it to the restaurant, making it a point to ignore the red demon behind her.

"Catching strays?" Lucifer gestured to him.

"Lovely to see you again," Alastor retorted.

"Dad, why don't we go inside? And Alastor will be joining us," now, Lucifer didn't forget what he said. He recognized that the fearsome deer demon had the intention of claiming Princess (Y/N) as his own, but did his daughter return such feelings?

Honestly, Lucifer feared that.

Not it being Alastor persay, but his little girls being hurt.

He knew how awful it felt to go through the divorce with Lilith, and then her disappearance.

He didn't ever want his daughters to feel that way.

"So, Alastor, what do you do again?"

"I have a radio broadcast. Your daughter has actually helped me repair the studio after the attack," He laid his land on hers.

And Lucifer picked up Alastors hand.

And placed it away from hers.

"Uh, dad-"

"Look, if you two are fucking, don't tell me."

"Dad!" Her face burned red, "we aren't-that's not. . .I love Alastor, and he loves me. I want you to accept us both."

"Love? Whoa, whoa, whoa! Pumpkin, I don't think-"

"I'm not a little kid," She interrupted, "I'm a grown woman, and I'm able to make my own decisions. I want to be with Alastor because I love him. You may not think I know what love is, but I know it's what I feel with Alastor."

That's when he saw it.

That look.

Whilst (Y/N) was defending herself, defending their love, Alastor looked at her. Only her. And it was like he was staring at the nebula itself, seeing all its beauty in the Heir of Hell. His smile faltered, closing his mouth, and his eyes softened.

It's the same look that he used to give Lilith.

"If I ever hear that you've made her cry, or even laid a single hand upon her," Lucifer stared him down, "I'll make you disappear."

"A man true to his word. Looks like we have something in common," Alastor agreed, his hand back on hers. She gave him a smile, one that reminded him of Lilith.

The rest of dinner went off without any incidents. The small jab here and there, but no one died, and no one was stabbed. Lucifer learned more about his daughters business and how she lit up talking about it.

"You hardly ate, Alastor. Is something wrong?" (Y/N) asked when her father went to the restroom.

"Oh no, my dear. Just hungry for something else, is all," His eyes raked up her form, earning a cough from the she-devil.

Honestly, she didn't know where he was on his spectrum. She was fine never even being intimate, so long as he was happy, but this spark in his eyes lit a fire within her.

"O-oh. . .are you sure?" Believe it or not, (Y/N) had only had sex twice and both times she'd call it lackluster.

"I don't want you to force yourself if you don't want to," oh how innocent she was. Honestly, Alastor assumed he was aroace before he met the she-devil. Her ferocity - her chaos in fights, her genuine kindness, and her soul - itself brought out that spark.

There are moments where the carnal desire needs to be satisfied.

"Mon cher, I'd never ask if I didn't mean it."

That look, it made her softly gasp.

"Alast-"

"Ew."

Right.

Lucifer.

He showed up from his restroom break and found the pair giving eachother "fuck me" eyes.

"Could I eat my dinner without you groping my child?" Lucifer hissed, despite Alastor only touching her hand.

He blinked, thinking how he's never even groped a woman.

"Maybe."

Sick bastard.

_ _ _ ☆ _ _ _

"Fuck! Alastor!"

(Y/N) had never cum before, so Alastor being her first to ever do so and smiling away at her quivering legs made it so much better.

"Oh fuck. . ." She moaned weakly, his tongue slithering in and out of her to lick up every last drop.

"Al. . ." She was breathless, staring at his strained member. Reaching up to unzip his pants, he tutted as he grabbed her wrist.

"Al?"

"It's about you. Don't worry about me, amour," He purred, kissing the bite marks on her thighs.

"But you-"

Before she could detest further, wishing to satisfy him, the door opened.

"Oh my God, they were right! Alastor, you sly dog," Angel Dust was at the door, and Alastor quickly covered his beloveds' body with the covers before his horns started to grow and his back stretched.

"I'm going to kill you."

"Not before you make love to me, you're not," still in his demonic form, (Y/N) blew a gust of wind to slam the door shut.

Her body displayed on the bed, Alastor agreed.

"And stay in that form. It suits you."

[synqiri]

WHO DID THIS TO YOU?

or, how he reacts when you are hurt.

PAIRING: wanderer x gn!reader

WARNINGS: brief mentions of blood

WORDCOUNT: 0.9K || CONTENT: fluff, slice of life, he tends to your wounds

NOTES: happy belated bday to me lawl

it is the first thing wanderer demands the moment you step foot home. 

to be fair, the state you are in is not exactly a pretty sight. you’re all bloody and bruised, clothes a rumpled mess, traces of mud caked on your skin. you laugh a bit, casually, waving a hand.

“don’t worry too much about it. i’m fine — just dirty. you should’ve seen what i did to those thieves.”

“you really think i care about what you do to wretched vermin?” he returns, tone biting. and there’s something softer hidden in his gaze, behind the harshness, in his drawn brows and clawing hands and stinging words. you let him guide you onto the couch. 

his eyes narrow when you let out an involuntary ouch. oops. you hadn’t noticed you hurt your ankle.

“you utter fool,” he hisses. “you are no fighter. what were you thinking, gallivanting around, playing hero?”

you protest. it had been a completely calculated, strategic plan that simply got derailed about half a minute in. “what was i supposed to do? i couldn’t just stand there and watch those kids get robbed.”

“and after all that effort, the only thing you got in return is a split lip and a sprained ankle.”

“i told you,” you say, huffing petulantly. “i gave much worse than i got.”

to that, he only rolls his eyes. he shrugs off your outer coat, and you say nothing as he disappears into the bathroom, reappearing with the first aid kit in tow. in his other hand is a basin, filled to the brim with water and a towel submerged in it. 

setting his things down, he seats himself by your side. his hand grasps onto your chin, tilting your head upward. obediently, you let him inspect your wound. 

you must seem like a mess, you think, with a busted lip and a faint bruise growing on your cheek. he dabs the damp towel over your face, wiping away the blood and grime.

“ow,” you whisper. 

he clicks his tongue. “i barely even touched you.”

he says that, yet his touch only softens. it’s a quiet few minutes as he cleans your face, careful around the scrapes but meticulous all the same. his fingers on your chin press into your flesh slightly too tight, but you'll allow him that.

he’s trembling, very, very faintly.

you tap a finger on your lips. “won't you kiss it better?”

“don't be ridiculous,” he tells you instead. “your wound is still fresh.”

he moves downwards then, looking over your arms, then your torso. honestly, for how roughed up you seem to be, you aren't as badly injured as he had expected. nevertheless, an injury is an injury, and it did not lessen the throbbing in your ankle nor the soreness in your arms. 

wanderer produces an ice pack from the first aid kit, directing you to turn, facing him. he props your foot up and onto his lap. you wince at the movement. 

“i never knew you could do first aid,” you say. fiddling with the tassel on his cape, you try and distract yourself from the sting as he places the ice on your ankle. it has swollen a considerable amount, at this point. 

he scoffs. “unlike a certain someone, i do possess basic survival skills.”

you nearly retort, a genial bastard on the tip of your tongue, but you stop yourself before you can. it probably isn’t very wise at all to insult the one currently tending to your injuries.

“care to enlighten me about the mess you managed to get yourself into this time?”

“in my defence, i think it went well. at least, it could’ve gone worse.” you shrug, huffing. “a group of thieves were ganging up on some kids, so i stepped in. things were about to get way more messy — but luckily, the traveller swooped in to save the day.”

“how fortunate,” he scoffs. “i should get them a gift for their birthday, don’t you think?”

“i already do that every year. anyway, next time —”

“— there will be no next time,” he snaps.

hesitantly, you glance at him, studying his reaction. you wonder if he’s mad. possibly fuming. whatever the case, he doesn’t meet your gaze. instead, the entirety of his focus is trained on your sprained ankle, his touch careful as he wraps a bandage around the wound. you soften at the sight, guilt trickling into your conscience. 

“‘m sorry. i guess i should’ve been less reckless.”

he lets out a soft, sharp laugh under his breath. though he does not raise his head, you can see the helpless sort of look on his face, resigned and fond and everything in between. 

“as i’ve said, you are no fighter.” his words sound harsh, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it as an insult. “there are plenty of fools in the world willing to fight your battles.”

“like you?” you ask teasingly, for you know the fool he refers to is no one but himself.

he releases a long, weary sigh. to that, he doesn't say a word in reply.

“forget it,” he says. “getting all worked up over this would only be a waste of energy. in the end, it is not you who is at fault.”

he lifts his head then, and though he is smiling, his eyes do not hide a piercing malice and a glittering fury. it is not directed at you.

he stands, gliding over to the coat stand where his hat is hung. 

“where are you going?” you call out to him. you’d follow him if you could, really, but your ankle currently rendered you immobile for the time being. “it’s nearly time for dinner.”

he smiles. it is not a friendly smile.

“don’t worry, i won’t be gone for long.”

[demoniofleur10]

“Fuck, love,” Sanemi cursed, his voice husky as he slowly dragged his cock out before thrusting all the way back in, eliciting a trail of moans from the girl pressed against the counter. She was enveloped in the tight embrace of her husband, who towered over her smaller frame. His strong grip was the only thing keeping her from collapsing to the floor, her knees weak and trembling like jelly.

“Sa-Sanemi! Y-you-your mis-mission!” she stuttered, her words breaking into gasps as Sanemi thrust once more, his cock rubbing against all the right places and hitting that sweet, gummy spot that had her seeing stars.

“I want to have all of you before I head out,” he grunted, his head tilting upwards as her walls clenched tightly around him. The way she took him in so perfectly made him want to pound into her, but he relished the novelty of this new position.

How did they end up like this?

Sanemi had been getting ready for his mission, donning his gear, when a soft humming reached his ears. Curious, he followed the sound to the kitchen and was greeted by an enchanting sight: his wife, lovingly preparing ohagis for him to take on his mission, humming a sweet, unfamiliar tune. She looked so pretty, so precious, and the domestic scene filled him with a warmth that quickly turned into something more primal.

He watched her for a moment, his eyes tracing the gentle sway of her hips and the delicate movements of her hands. Unbeknownst to him, his blood was rushing downward, pooling in his groin, and he felt himself growing hard. This was supposed to be an innocent moment, but his body had other plans.

Y/n didn’t notice Sanemi’s presence until she felt something hard pressing against her clothed ass, making her squeak in surprise. Her cheeks flushed a deep red, and a soft gasp escaped her lips as she realized what it was.

Before she knew it, Sanemi had her pinned against the counter, her kimono bunched up around her waist. His hands were everywhere—on her hips, her waist, her breasts—keeping her anchored to him. Her own hands scrabbled at his muscular arms, seeking purchase as he moved inside her.

“Sanemi,” she whimpered, her voice a mix of pleasure and urgency. “You need to go…”

“Not yet,” he murmured against her ear, his breath hot and ragged. “I need to feel you, to remember this when I’m out there. Let me take care of you first.”

Each thrust was deliberate, designed to elicit the most pleasure from her. Her body responded instinctively, arching back into him, her moans growing louder with each movement. The sounds of their lovemaking filled the kitchen, mingling with the faint smell of the ohagis she had been preparing.

Sanemi’s hands roamed over her body, caressing her skin, memorizing every curve and dip. His love for her was fierce, and he wanted to show her just how much she meant to him before he had to leave. He could feel her tightening around him, her breaths coming in short, sharp bursts.

“Sanemi, please…” she cried out, her voice trembling with the intensity of her impending climax.

Sanemi's hand cupped her jaw, gently tilting her head towards him before his lips crashed onto hers. His tongue invaded her mouth, drawing muffled moans from her as he deepened the kiss. The intensity of his thrusts increased, each one more powerful than the last. At this point, he was practically pounding into her, relentlessly hitting that perfect spot inside her over and over again.

Her fingers dug into his arms, trying to hold on as waves of pleasure coursed through her body. The kitchen echoed with the sounds of their lovemaking, a symphony of flesh meeting flesh, mingled moans, and ragged breaths. Her back was pressed against his muscular chest, her abdomen pinned against the counter. The discomfort only heightened her senses, making every touch and movement feel even more intense.

Sanemi's other hand gripped her hip, pulling her closer with each thrust, his need for her overwhelming. He could feel her tightening around him, her body responding to his with an urgency that matched his own. The friction, the heat, the closeness—it was all too much and not enough at the same time.

His lips left hers, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, sucking on the delicate skin there, leaving marks that would remind them both of this moment. Her moans turned into whimpers, her head falling back to give him more access as he continued his assault on her senses.

"Sanemi," she gasped, her voice barely a whisper amidst her moans, "I'm so close..."He growled against her neck, his breath hot and heavy. "I know, love. Let go for me. I want to feel you come around me.

"His words, coupled with the relentless pace of his thrusts, pushed her over the edge. Her body tensed, then shuddered violently as her orgasm ripped through her, her walls clenching around him tightly. She cried out his name, her voice breaking as she came undone.

Sanemi felt her release, the way her body milked him for everything he had. With a final, powerful thrust, he let himself go, spilling inside her with a guttural groan. His grip on her tightened as he rode out his own orgasm, the intensity of it leaving him breathless.

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies trembling and hearts racing, the world around them fading away. Slowly, Sanemi pulled back, looking into her eyes with a mixture of tenderness and possessiveness. He gently kissed her forehead, his hands still cradling her face.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "I’ll always come back to you."

She nodded, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I love you too, Sanemi. Be safe."

[xazse]

So about the Shouki no Kami x reader, while we're fighting Scaramouche's boss we get injured and some pieces of our clothes are already ruined, causing Scaramouche to feel umm. Yk 🫣

HUMILIATION

Synopsis: Your ruined clothing definitely catches Scaramouches attention.

Notes: Hi I enjoyed writing this, I must tell you that it’s completely consensual and reader was free to leave whenever she pleased but chose to indulge in scaras antics! + I do have other requests but they are just asking for a part 2 of something, I’d love to work on it but id rather work on some new stuff.

Pairings: Scaramouche x fem!reader

Warnings: Pussy eating + crying + manhandling + mean!Scara + dom!scara + overstimulation + smut + not proofread + creampie + begging

“Die insolent woman, you’ve been a pain in my side for the longest.”

Scaramouche points Shouki no Kami’s hand at you, he can’t choose which way he wants to kill you, with all the elements in his very hands it’s hard. He wants to make you suffer for as long as possible: wants your screams to fill the room as you beg for mercy, maybe you’ll even cry he’d enjoy that the most.

He bares you one more final look your face dirty and ragged, coughing up your own blood, his eyesight falls a little lower and he pauses. Your shirt was ripped with large tear; exposing your bra, it’s white and basic but nonetheless he can see the fat of your boob spilling out: clearly the bra doesn’t fit you as well as you think it does. Your shorts are a tattered mess as well.

He halts the beam to stare and maybe even admire you a little, He won’t lie and say he hasn’t felt a little bit of attraction at just how desperate you are to kill him, every battle you’ve had with him ends with him fleeing after taking a damaging hit or he’s managed to knock you unconscious, why he hadn’t killed you those times is because he’d wanted you to live with the humiliation, but now that he’s in the final steps of his plan he no longer sees the need to toy with you.

Looking at you longer starts to stir some of those lewd feelings he knows he shouldn’t have for you, it’s merely sexual nothing romantic, he deems you aren’t on his level for him to see you that way, doesn’t matter you’ll be dead in a few.

But… Ever since becoming sentient and reaching the age of maturity, Scara hasn’t laid with any women. As a way of relief when he was alone he’d find himself grabbing and groping at his cock, such a thing had an impact on his body and mind it aggravated him that men had to go through that, it did feel pretty good though when he reached his peak.

He supposes in this moment that you’d be the perfect specimen for him to have sex with, you should be honored you’ll be the first woman to take what humans call his virginity.

You attempt to grab your pole arm but find it getting knocked all the way across the room with just a flick of the giant robots finger. You feel completely defenseless, at least the comfort of knowing you went down with a fight will provide some relief, you close your eyes as you await your death.

Footsteps can be heard behind you, the bastard wants to kill you with his own hands? His steps are slow and steady as he approaches you, when he finally does he kicks you over you groan in pain at just the force of the kick, you’re now on your stomach when he sits down and puts his entire weight on your back.

“I’d kill you right now but I have other uses for you”

“Just get it over with” you seethe through clenched teeth

“And miss the chance to further humiliate you? I don’t think so. I could kill you right now or I could fuck you then let you leave orrrr you can leave and run back to your family with your tail inbetween your legs. Your choice either way you’ll die sooner or later it doesn’t matter to me”

Your lip quirks upwards and you resist the urge to burst out laughing

“Not so popular with the women? Knew you were a hopeless virgin,” you giggle a little before continuing “is that why youre so hell bent on destruction? You just needed some pussy?”

Scaramouche’s expression darkens but you can’t see that, he won’t allow you to.

“You’ve got a mouth on you, always have.” “I think that’s why breaking you down has been so fun”

You shrug “I’ll indulge you Scaramouche” you huff out, “I don’t need to guide you through it right?” You tease.

“No need, I’ll have you crying on my cock begging for more.” He tears off the remainings of your shirt, your shorts are next as he descards the fabrics somewhere else, you aren’t getting those back you sigh loudly.

He places his hand under your stomach in a way you’re arching: ass up and face smooshed into the cold hard floor. You don’t process it as quickly as you should but next thing you know you can feel the cool open breeze on your parts, bastard even ruined your underwear. He admires you once again, staring at your cute cunt as it’s begging to be filled and fucked, he’ll give you just that.

First he decides that he wants to taste you, wants to figure out why people enjoy pussy as much as they do.

He bends down a little, having him eye level with your cunt makes you feel a little embarrassed and your body a little hot, you’ve never been eaten out before if he does- you lurch forward when his tongue licks a stripe up. He thinks he didn’t really get a good taste so he licks another, and another until he’s full on licking and sucking directly on your hole.

“Ohh..mnh-“ you use your hand to close your mouth, you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. But fuck does it feel so good, he hasn’t even found your clit yet and you don’t think you’ll be able to hold back anything.

He starts getting messy with his tongue work, it was messy before but now it feels dirty. You know you’re becoming wetter by the second and he isn’t wasting even a second to lick up the essence that leaks out. This position isn’t doing it for him anymore so he flips you onto your back, immediately he dives right back into sucking, when he accidentally brushes over your clit and sees the sweet whine that slips past he does it again to make sure he heard you right, tracing over the bud you once again make the noise but even sweeter.

“Scara-Ah..ngh”

His arms wrap around your thighs, he doesn’t even seem the least bit bothered that you’re caging his head in, he’s completely in tune with sucking on your wet sloppy clit. All you can do is take it and cry small whimpers of his names, you don’t know whether you want him to stop the pleasure or continue it.

His shorts begin to constrict as he starts to grow hard, they feel tight around him and he feels the need to loosen them up, his hand dips below his waist and into them, his fingers grope his cock roughly, the damn thing definitely has a mind of its own as established earlier. It’s already leaking precum into his hands.

He stands up on his knees, you obediently don’t close your legs, leaving them wide open, a little bit of licking has your eyes clouded and lusty, he thinks you definitely now deserve to feel the stretch of his cock.

He tugs his waistband just below his heavy balls, you stare openly too, he’s fucking big, you had never expected that from his small stature. He knows he is too with the condescending smirk on his face, clearly proud of what he has. It’s more thick than it is long, girth was not lost on him, you advert your gaze fully.

“What are you doing? Look at me clearly woman, none of that shy stuff now.” He leans in and pulls your bra down, useful for later he supposes.

He stokes himself a few times, making sure your eyes are trained on every stroke and every dribble of pre that cascades down his length. He taps his cock against your clit eliciting a sharp rise in your chest. His cock is placed against your wet hole and pushes in, he only gets a little past the tip before you’re whiny voice picks up and telling him to stop for a moment, he does obey to let you breathe.

As he sits and waits he can feel just how hot you are, he bets putting it even deeper will have him seeing stars.

He starts pushing in again, repeating the words relax as you tense up every so often, he isn’t going to fucking kill you. Your tight cunt starts to slowly adjust and pull him in, it gets warmer and warmer the deeper he goes.

“You’ve been- mhn..- fucked? How come you’re so damn tight?” It’s clearly starting to affect him, serves the dick right.

It’s not long before he’s got his full hard cock deep inside you, his chest is connected to yours as he lifts up his hips to slam right back down into you.

“So… ooh my god” his hips can’t stop fucking into you, your gummy walls just adds so much more stimulation, it’s filthy and gross the loud sounds of his balls slapping against your ass or your equally lewd moans of his name drive everything so much higher. His chest is rubbing against your nipples when he goes up and down, they feel raw and extra sensitive adding ontop of the pleasure.

He’s using you like a damn toy to reach his peak, it feels different than when he would use his hands, his balls feel heavier and he feels the need to empty them, empty them right inside your sopping cunt.

You take your fingers and begin rubbing wildly at your clit.

He’s been hitting a certain spot inside of you, but when he inches his hips a way, he hits it directly.

“Pleas- please again-“ “deeper-deeper Scara.”

It’s embarrassing how you’re full on crying it feels so good, too good, you can’t help but cry from the amount of pleasure you’re feeling, no man you’ve ever come across has had his size nor the way he keeps hitting that spot.

He gives you one more stroke and you whine his name the loudest since he had you bent over on all fours. Your pussy gushes and cums around his cock, that nasty white ring shines so much when he looks at where you’re connected for a slight moment but he quickly returns to your face: mouth slightly agar as you take wide gulps of air from just how powerful that orgasm was.

You weakly try to slide up and slip his cock out of you, he’s quick to slam right back in to the hilt.

“That’s not fair, I haven’t came yet, I think you can spare a few more hours” he taps your cheek lightly in a mocking manner.

“You can can’t you?” He purrs out so seductively.

“I’can” you slur out slowly looking so fucked out and In scaras terms ready for another orgasm just like that one.

He keeps fucking into you, even if his cock is soaked in just your cum, or when he switched positions to him standing and holding you with your arms wrapped around his neck whilst he fucks up into your pussy. The floor decorated with your juices just drive him to keep ruining you. When he finally does cum it’s mind-blowing, he bites down so hard on your neck that you think it drew blood. It muffles his loud groan as his balls constrict and he’s filling you with his load, you think the virgin will stop and be one and done but he isn’t, he pauses to breathe but starts bouncing you up and down on his cock all over again.

Scaramouche thinks he actually wants you alive, wants to keep feeling your hot pussy milk him nonstop, he’s interrupted in his thoughts with you weakly begging for more, you’re so fucking gross, wanting to be filled with more of his cum regardless of your hatred for him.

[cyxnidx]

LATE NIGHTS.

character: neuvilette x fem!reader

prompt: "please forgive me.. jus' couldn't wait."

warnings: consensual somnophilia, needy + sensitive neuvi, wet dream, slight dacryphilia, edging

a/n: been thinkin ab this for ages

neuvilette is shaken from his sleep after a wet dream. a dream that was so intense it seemed to get him out of his sleep - his hard on lifting the sheets from his current sleeping position.

and out of the corner of his eye - was you. your peaceful, sleeping figure. eyes closed softly, quiet snores occasionally leaving your soft lips. out of what he'd excuse as curiosity, he pulled the sheets back. just a bit. it exposed nothing too extreme: just an oversized shirt you'd bought while out shopping. it was supposed to be a piece for an outfit, but now it's just a classic shirt you sleep in.

removing the sheets further, he admires the way the shirt cascades down your body, hugging you perfectly.

the more of you he sees, the worse he gets. he's palming his cock now, noticing the spots of pre leaking from his tip. he takes another look at you, the sheets now fully off your body. your legs exposed, as you curl into a ball due to the lack of warmth.

the thoughts in neuvilettes mind are anything but professional - anything but acceptable. but you wouldn't mind, right?

you did at some point have that discussion. the discussion of what you wouldn't mind sexually, and what you're into. the same conversation that made neuvilette shy out of his mind.

"if for whatever reason you're awake, and horny while i'm asleep, but don't wanna wake me up.. don't be shy to fuck me til i wake up." your voice echos through his mind. "i won't be upset, promise."

he sighs, moving hesitantly as an attempt to not wake you. he knows it may be inevitable, but he'd want you to get every second possible.

pulling his bottoms off, his cock springs from its confines and slaps up against his stomach. the moonlight defines his body, creating a silhouette only a god would create. his tip is pink and angry when he takes hold of it, pulling off your bottoms as well.

he lightly rubs against your pussy lips, spreading your slick before inserting two fingers. he curls them upward, almost smirking at your unconscious reaction. he then moves to lick a stripe up your cunt, tongue fucking you softly as to not stir you too much. when he feels you're slick enough, he takes hold of his tip.

though, he still frowns. he pushes himself against you, almost groaning at the way your slick feels against his tip. the idea of using you in your sleep still bothers his slightly, but he wasn't against the idea. especially not for a first time occurrence.

pushing himself past your folds and into your tight little hole, he tries to keep moving to a bare minimum - as much as possible, anyway.

"jus for a little, baby.." he mumbled, slowly fitting himself in you. bottoming out, he watched you stir in your sleep once again, likely at the feeling of being so full. "sorry.." he apologized, kissing your forehead as he began to move slowly.

his veiny cock dragged against the gummy walls of your cunt. you clenched around him involuntarily, provoking a surprised moan from him. once again, you stir from the noise. "neuvi.. neuvilette..?" you mumbled. neuvilette kissed your forehead softly, though, with no response you seemed to go right back to sleep.

at the very beginning, he thought it'd be easier. easy as ever, actually. until he kept getting a little too aggressive, making you stir in your sleep unintentionally, or almost waking you up had he not coaxed you back to your dreamland.

as time went on, neuvilette began to see it as a game of sorts - to not wake you up. only bad thing being, he constantly edged himself. the closer he got to his climax, the rougher he'd get. the more likely you were to be woken up. he didn't want to - he hated the idea of you losing sleep over him not having control over his sexual urges. but what could he do?

but now, his hand wrapped around your tit while the other took hold of your waist, he got needy. he was nearing a sort of overstimulation he'd never dealt with before. a neediness he never expected. a roughness even he wouldn't think could be provoked from him.

"please forgive me.." he mumbled, looking into your sleepy eyes as your hands couldn't decipher whether they wanted to grip the sheets at his fast pace or rub the sleep out of the corners of your eyes. "m' so sorry.. so sorry.." he whined, tears lining his eyes as he increased his pace, encouraged by the small moans and whines that began to exit your lips. "jus' couldn't wait.." he kisses your forehead, grip tightening over your waist.

"said i could, yeah? you don't mind.." he repeated what he remembered, his mind foggy from constantly edging himself. "couldn't wait. you were so pretty, and.." it began to rain outside as tears cascaded down his rosy cheeks. "..you understand, right? right?"

[nereidprinc3ss]

relax

in which spencer helps university student reader de-stress after a particularly exhausting assignment

18+ (smut) warnings: fingering, overstimulation, happy crying, lowkey softdom spencer, slight d/s dynamics, reader is referred to as a girl, ????idk i've never had to tag for smut before lols wc: 2624 a/n: been doing some insane literary cooking. lots of smut AND more fluff in the works (all uni reader... lol... ). idk if i love this but again need to fucking get it out of my word doc so here u go, PLEASE lmk if you like it!!

You don’t even realize the room has gone completely dark until Spencer comes in the front door and flicks on the light. 

“Why did you do that?” you snap immediately, looking up from your laptop screen for the first time in potentially hours, blinking hard as your eyes painfully adjust. Your boyfriend gives you an odd look. 

“Hello to you too...” 

“I’m sorry. Hi. How was dinner?” 

“It was good,” he says, crossing the room to the couch that has been your entire world for the past five hours. You sigh, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders when he leans down to kiss your head and set down a to-go box on the coffee table. “Have you moved since I left?” 

“...no,” you admit, moving your eyes dejectedly to the keyboard.  

“You made progress,” he appeases, leaning over you to angle the laptop upward. Immediately you wrench it away, holding it protectively against your chest. 

“Stop! I don’t want you to read it yet!” 

“I could help you with it though,” he pleads, bracing a hand on the arm of the couch. You look up into his hazel eyes, where he’s definitely playing up the puppy dog factor. His tie brushes your stomach, and he smells like lavender and clove and-- 

“You need to go away,” you realize, snapping back to reality and shrinking into the couch, away from him—trying to escape his all-encompassing sensory presence.  

“Wh- I just got back!” he scoffs, straightening. 

“You’re distracting me,” you accuse, throwing him a baleful look. 

“I’m literally offering to help you.” 

“And I’m respectfully declining because I care too much about your opinion to show you this essay until it’s less terrible. I really just need a couple more hours to finish it, please?” 

Spencer sighs, regarding your pitiful state before moving to sit down next to you. Automatically you move your legs out of the way before settling them in his lap and damn it he’s supposed to be going away. Your iron grip on the laptop involuntarily loosens a little as his hands begin to run back and forth over your legs. No—you must stay focused.  

“Spencer,” you whine, flopping your head back. You let the implied complaint hang in the air. 

“You’ve been writing all day. Your brain is exhausted, and your synapses aren’t firing at a rate that is intellectually productive.” 

“What is the point of having a brain if I can’t even use it half the time!” you almost-shout, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes until you see fireworks.  

The couch shifts and you feel the warm, robotic weight of the laptop unpin you as Spencer lifts it from your lap. “Don’t read it,” you beg, watching through parted fingers as he sets it on the coffee table, and relaxing slightly when he settles back into the couch.  

“Come here,” he says, holding out an arm. Too mentally exhausted to do anything but comply, you pull yourself up just enough to fall into him. Immediately he wraps his arms around you, one hand slipping under your shirt to rub your back in hypnotizing passes. “I think you burnt yourself out,” he mutters. 

You nod into his shoulder, surrendering yourself to his warmth, letting yourself sink into a lavender-clove fog, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into it. The darkness behind your eyes glows an inviting amber, threatening to pull you under...  

But the essay... 

“Stop thinking about the essay,” he demands. 

“But I have so much to do,” you sigh against his jacket, the words coming out muffled. 

“The best thing you can do now is give your brain a rest. I promise you you’re not making that paper any better if you’re exhausted.” 

“I am not exhausted,” you insist, although your eyes are still closed, “I’m just really stressed.”  

Spencer hums, continuing to rub your back.  

“Do you need me to help you relax?” he says innocently. 

Oh? 

One of your eyes opens to peer up at him suspiciously. He sweeps some of your hair out of your face. 

“Because I would be happy to.” A moment passes—him looking down at you fondly; you wondering if you’re picking up what he’s putting down. 

“And how would you go about doing that?” you ask suspiciously. 

“Orgasms reduce tension and stress and improve brain function.” 

Damn. Why did the nerdiest, most un-sexy pickup line ever just turn you on?

You groan, burying your face further into his shirt—mostly to hide any trace of a blush. 

“You know what else would reduce stress and improve brain functioning? Taking an Adderall and finishing my fucking essay.”  

“Angel, you're such a smart girl, and you are fully capable of doing whatever you set your mind to—but I will lock your laptop in my gun safe before I let you look at that essay again tonight.” He speaks so softly, and his fingers are still gently combing through your messy hair... all in all, you put up a good fight, right? Maybe you should just listen to him...

“... fine.” you say eventually, reluctant to give in too quickly even though the idea quickly has filled your stomach with butterflies. 

“Fine?” he says, pausing his motions as you turn your head just enough to look up at him. “Sounds like you don’t really want it, baby. Maybe we should just go to sleep. Or I could take you back to your-” 

“Spence,” you whine, gently grabbing the front of his shirt. Now he’s going to make you beg? As if it wasn’t his idea? Those puppy dog eyes of his are deceiving. 

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he sighs, hand moving from your hair to your outer thigh. 

“Please?” you whisper, dignity forgotten as you look up at him imploringly. 

“Lean back, sweet girl,” he says, helping you adjust your position til you’re lying against his chest, legs sprawled across the couch. Your head lolls on his shoulder, intoxicated by his close proximity. “Perfect. Such a good listener.” 

Normally, you’d be quick to make a defensive remark, but with the way he’s slowly hiking your shirt up, running his hands over your sides so lightly it gives you goosebumps—you're really in no position to argue. Your eyes flutter shut as his hands grow bolder in their explorations, crossing your stomach, fingers just slipping under the waistband of your shorts and skimming over your hipbones before coming back up. 

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs, and you nod lazily, apparently losing access to your language facilities after running them dry all day. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem good enough for your boyfriend. “Do you remember when the last time I touched you like this was?” 

Through the hazy blur of your exhaustion, you try to think back. Was it... two days ago? Three? More? 

“Almost a week ago,” he supplies the answer for you when you take too long. What? That can’t be right. 

But when you think about it harder... it is right. It was right before finals week started.  

An errant hand straying up your torso distracts you. “Do you remember what I did?” 

You flush. 

“You... yeah,” is the best you can offer, too flustered to say exactly what he did to your body. That stray hand moves over your breast. Your back arches just slightly at the stimulation through the thin fabric of your bra.  

Thankfully, he lets you off the hook.  

“I made you cum three times, right?” 

“Mhm,” you hum through closed lips, tense with anticipation as he finally slides both hands down to your shorts and wordlessly directs you to lift your hips so he can pull them all the way off along with your underwear. 

“You’ve been so busy lately, huh. Working so hard.” 

You unconsciously drop your bent legs open, brain too foggy to be insecure about how utterly bare you are—allowing him to slowly rub up and down your inner thigh. 

“I’m gonna make you feel good, honey. I don’t think three times was enough for such a stressful week.” 

You gasp when his fingers finally brush your clit, whimpering slightly when they just barely skim your entrance before tracing the wetness back up.  

“Give me your hand,” Spencer says, taking his own from between your legs and holding it up. You don’t even think about it, releasing your grip on the arm he now has wrapped around you and holding it out for him. At this point, you’d do anything he tells you to without hesitation.  

He takes the proffered hand, gently guiding it back between your legs. Your fingers meet slick, soft warmth. “Do you feel how wet you are?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, seeing how your fingers glisten when you pull them away. His remain, running slowly up and down your clit. Your brain seems to be vibrating in your skull as warmth spreads throughout your body. 

“Who’s that for?” 

“You, Spencer,” you whimper. He hums in approval before the room falls into silence as you both watch his teasing intently, your breath baited as you try to be patient. But your body isn’t with the program, you keep twisting slightly, your hips cant upward. “Please, please,” the words escape on a held exhalation as you finally break, arching your back against him as your search for more friction.  

Without warning, he sinks two fingers inside you. The slight stretch after not having taken anything in a week scratches an itch you didn’t even know you had, and you let out a broken moan. 

“I know, honey. You’re so good, I know.” Spencer kisses your head as he speaks over your cry, barely moving his fingers for a few moments while you get comfortable. 

Still you’re not ready for it when he withdraws and pushes back in. 

“Look at that,” he breathes. 

“Oh, fuck,” you choke, watching how your arousal completely coats his fingers as he slowly, slowly begins to fuck you with them. 

Again you feel the vibrations in his chest as he laughs slightly—probably at your earlier insistence that you didn’t desperately want this. The laughter fades as you both become entranced by the sight of his fingers disappearing into you, and your stomach twists with pleasure. His pace remains languid, and he seems to delight in the filthy, wet sounds his hand is producing between your legs.  

“You okay, baby?” he asks after a moment, seemingly snapping out of some trance. 

“Uh huh,” you whimper. One particular drag of his fingers at just the right angle has you dizzy, and then he’s speeding up. Your jaw drops at the change in pace and your hips chase his hand, wanting even more. 

“So pretty,” he mutters as his other hand moves to spread you open.  

You attempt to shut your legs around his wrist, but instead he just ruts his fingers deeper into you, palm pressed against your clit. You attempt to twist away from the extreme stimulation, but he doesn’t allow it. 

“Too much,” you squeak, bucking your hips inadvertently. 

“No it’s not,” he states, like you’re talking about the weather. 

“Spencer, I really c- ah- can't!” 

“It feels like a lot, huh?” he asks soothingly, not letting up one bit. 

“Yes!” you cry, eyes stinging as tears begin to well. 

“You’re okay, angel. It’s just been a while.” 

You are so completely fucked. Each stroke of his hand feels like an electric jolt through your whole body. It is too much, but at the same time, pleasure is pooling deep in your stomach and at the base of your spine and you never want him to stop. You throw your head back onto Spencer’s shoulder, eyes screwed shut.  

“Relax,” he mutters, carefully bearing down the pressure across your waist with his arm to try and keep you from squirming. 

A rhythmic whine breaks through the barrier of your sealed lips as you focus all your energy into taking it, when the all-consuming need to kiss him hits you. You twist your neck to look up at him, observing the furrow of his brow and the way he’s tucked his bottom lip into a bite. Thankfully he notices your movement—his eyes dart from your own half-lidded gaze to your lips and he understands what you want. 

The kiss is messy and the angle is awkward and you’re moaning into his mouth half the time anyway, but it feels so good to have his lips moving on yours that you don’t care about any of it.  

“I—ah,” you cry into him, unable to form a coherent thought as your stomach drops like you’re mounting the peak of a roller coaster. 

His fingers again change their angle and he finds the spot inside you that makes your legs spasm. Attempting to hold in whatever noises you were making is now futile—the whimpers and pants turn to full-fledged keening moans interspersed with taut silences as you fail to breathe properly.  

Your wrench your gaze and lips away from Spencer to watch through a blurry haze the rapid movement of his hand between your bare legs, the way your hips buck and twist and the way your leg bends as he hooks his free hand under your knee and hoists it toward your chest. 

“You’re doing so well, honey. Being so good for me.” 

Moisture spills over from your eyes, tracing down your cheeks and down your neck as you begin to come with no warning and a desperate, broken cry. 

A string of praise from Spencer underscores your pleading moans, but you can’t focus on anything other than the buzzing warmth emanating from your core, the bright, pulsing white that blinds you and the feeling of stardust flowing through your veins. 

Your boyfriend continues pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you for a blissful few moments, before sensing the tail-end of your orgasm and bringing his fingers up to rub lazy circles over your clit. Aftershocks resonate from the hypersensitive area and make you clamp your legs shut around his hand as your toes curl and you attempt to squirm out of his grip. 

“Done! I’m done,” you squeak, rocking your hips back and forth to try and escape his toying. 

“Okay, okay,” he soothes, relieving the pressure of his hand between your legs and moving it to run over your stomach as you come down. 

You lie in silence for a minute, enjoying the liquid sensation weighing down your muscles and basking in the warm afterglow of your orgasm.  

“Shit,” you breathe shakily after a moment. Spencer chuckles. You manage to turn yourself over, laying your cheek on his shoulder and slipping your arms under his waist. He looks down at you as he moves on to massaging your back and bare hips, eyes full of warm adoration.  

“Feel better?” 

You hum an affirmation, wiping your eyes on his shirt. 

“Oh, honey, did I make you cry?” 

You laugh into his chest and nod, a few stray tears leaking from your shut eyes. “It’s okay. Not sad tears.” 

“What kind of tears?” 

“Orgasm tears,” you mumble, a tidal wave of exhaustion you’d been fighting all day finally washing over you. 

“That makes sense. Orgasms can be cathartic or even therapeutic depending on your head space. Major losses and life changes are often associated with sexual dysfunction but the opposite is actually just as if not more common. A spike in libido can—” 

Spencer pauses, looking down to see that you’re either asleep or close to it, and smiles to himself. You’ll probably be mad about it when you wake up, but he had to get you to stop thinking about that paper somehow. 

[jiminsafairy]

the thrill of the show - jungkook (cam couple +18)

pairings :bf!jungkook x gf!reader

summary: your boyfriend Jungkook comes up with the idea of starting your own cam channel with the excuse of making some extra cash

warnings: live sex (cam couple), tities, a lot of titties! unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, guys), bj, doggy style, he cums in her tits, they are so in love

wc:2k

a/n: this is my first fic, it took me a while to muster up the courage to post anything here... also english is not my first languaje so excuse my mistakes, be nice!!

"You want us to do what!?" you say, almost choking on your coffee.

"I said, ‘why don't we start a sex cam channel’?" repeats Jungkook on a Thursday morning, while both of you are having breakfast before leaving to the gym.

“Have you gone mad!?” you say.

"Come on, babe, it'll be fun! we get to do what we love and gain a bit of extra money from it. I know how bad you wanna change our couch" your boyfriend says, pointing at the old beat out red couch.

You nod. He was right. You have been dreaming about changing that hideous piece of furniture since you moved to the apartment a year ago. That thing was uncomfortable as hell. Always ended up with sore knees after being fucked on it.

"I give you one chance, one, you hear me?" you state, putting one finger up, "and if I'm somewhat uncomfortable with the whole thing, we immediately cut".

"I wouldn't do it other way, love" coos your boyfriend, giving you a quick peck, "I'm gonna go sign up on the site and set my camera" says disappearing through the kitchen door.

That is how you ended up in this situation, lying in bed with your boyfriend, only wearing a black lace set of lingerie.

"Baby, don't you think you went a bit overboard buying all of… this?" you say pointing at the two — very expensive looking, one might say —softboxes directed at you both, and the 27”-inch new monitor displaying your almost naked image.

"Not at all love, we need to have the best equipment in order to succeed" says Jungkook with a grin, "shall we begin?" he says signaling to the 'start live' button. “You do the honors, babe”.

You reach for the laptop and click on the button, "Here goes nothing" you say, going back to bed.

"And now we wait for people to join us" says Jungkook, placing his hands behind his head and leaning against the pillow "oh look! we have our first viewers!” says excited, “We are Jungkook and y/n, this is our first time doing this so please be good to us".

[imyourdaddy94]: why are they just layin in bed? booooriiingggggggg, imma get out here if you don't start doin something

[punish__me]: you look cute, but I won't subscribe if all you do plan to do is just cuddling

[sugar.tits88]: hey guys, you know this is supposed to be a live sex channel, right...? im leaving

"No, no, guys!" says Jungkook sounding alarmed, "we are fun, please, stay!" he turns to you, placing one hand on your neck and other one on the small of your back, "let's show them how fun we can be".

He starts kissing you, and you reciprocate. You were feeling shy at first, but as the kiss progressed, you started to get more onto the idea of being watched by strangers on the internet.

Your right hands grasps the back of his neck pushing him closer to you. Jungkook breaks the kiss, looking at the chat again, and smiles to you.

[imyourdaddy94]: show us her tits!

"They want to see your tits, should we show them?" says Jungkook placing one hand on the small of your back and going upwards. You nod, giving him permission.

Jungkook unclasps your bra, helping you sliding it down your arms, showing everyone your large, round breasts. He starts planting small kisses on your neck, going all the way down, grabbing your big breasts with his hands, massaging them.

"Can I?" says Jungkook with his lips close to your nipple, ,"would you let me suck your pretty tits?, he asks. The feeling of his warm breath hitting your sensitive flesh is driving you crazy

“Just do it already Jungkook!" you whimper, raising your voice. You need his mouth on your nipple.

[sugar_tits88]: uh, she's feisty...i like her

You hear the sound of the tips filling the room. You are getting that couch. Your boyfriend chuckles at your tone, lips closing around your left nipple, while pinching the other one. "Oh God Jungkook, don't stop!" you moan.

"My girl loves having her pretty titties sucked, right?" he says, while he keeps sucking at your breasts, switching between nipples. Mouth on one nipple, tattoed hand pinching the other. you let out a needy moan, enjoying the feeling.

Your hand travels south, palming his length from the outside of his black Calvin's.

"I wanna suck your cock" you say panting.

"You want to stuff your pretty mouth with my cock? Is that what you want?" he asks, already knowing the anser.

"Yes, please!", you plead.

"Alright then. Could you take my cock out for me, love?" he asks, going back to taking your nipple in his mouth.

You take his cock out and start stroking it, from the base to the tip. "Mmm...so big..." you say, loving the feeling of your boyfriend's big cock in your hand.

 [punishme__]: look at that thing!! its fucking huge!! subscribing

Jungkook releases your nipple with a loud pop, giving your tits one last squeeze. He proceeds to lay on the bed, stroking his cock at a steady pace, tattoed hand going up and down his shaft.

"What my baby wants my baby gets” Jungkook says with a chuckle, "come here", says palming the space next to him. "I don't wanna brag guys, but her cock-sucking skills are amazing" he chuckles.

Strangers watching you getting your tits sucked made you so horny that you want to give them your best performance. Getting on your knees, you grab his cock by the base, and start pressing small kisses at the tip.

Feeling his cock twitch, you start giving long licks up and down his shaft. You hear him whine, and you wrap your lips around the tip, licking all the pre cum. Jungkook moans, reaching for your nipples and pitching them, “that’s it babe, keep going, wanna fuck that pretty mouth of yours”.

You take his whole length on your mouth, trying to avoid the gag reflex. Jungkook starts bucking up his hips, fucking your mouth, “look at you, taking all this cock in your pretty little mouth. Bet you love having people looking at you while you suck me”.

You moan, nodding, mouth full of cock. “Fuck love, if you keep going at it like that I’m gonna cum in your mouth, and I want to fuck you first” he phants. “On your hands and knees babe, facing the camera, let them see those big tits bounce” Jungkook demands, and you obey.

Getting on all fours, you place yourself facing the camera, watching the lewd image that the both of you portray through the monitor. Jungkook gets behind you, reaching for the hem of your lace panties.

He bends down and start giving small kisses at your back, while tugging at your underwear. Panties off, he kneads your ass checks, “Ready babe?” he asks giving your ass a loud smack. His hand gets to your pussy, placing one finger inside your needy hole “you are so wet y/n, it is all for me? Or is it because people are watching you?” he says, adding another digit.

“All for you, it’s all for you", you state.

"Liar" he says, taking his fingers out of your pussy and licking them clean. “You taste so good baby”.

[badgirlie444]: eat her out!!!

“They want me to eat you out…but I think we’ll leave that out for another time” he says. Grabbing his cock by the base, he gets closer to you.

“Please Kook, want your big cock inside me” you plead, “want you to fuck me numb”. He starts rubbing it up and down your needy slit.

“Like I said before, what my pretty girlfriend wants, she gets” he says entering your pussy with one hard thrust. You moan at the feeling, big cock filling your needy hole.

“God, you are so tight” he moans between thrusts, “such a tight pussy, taking this big cock so well”.

Moans mixed with the sound of the tips coming nonstop fill the room. Your sweaty bodies making the lewdest sounds.

“Harder, please, want you to fuck me harder” you plead, tits bouncing, pussy clenching around his big cock “I want to feel your cock as deep and hard as you can, I need you close”. He starts thrusting harder, cock hitting near your cervix. “That is how you like it mm? such a dirty girl”, he says, giving your ass another slap. You moan in response, just enjoying the feeling of his cock pounding into you.

[cckaddicted]: look at those tits bounce!!! I love you guys

Jungkook grabs your tits on his hands and motions you to get back on your knees and lay against him. Hands pinching your nipples while keeps thrusting inside your needy pussy. “C’mon baby, moan for them, let them know who’s making you feel this good” he coos at your ear. You moan loudly, lost in pleasure.

His right hand leaves your nipple and reaches for your clit, rubbing it slowly. You cannot stand it anymore, you need to cum, “I’m close baby, please make me cum” you implore, hips bucking against his.

He starts rubbing your clit harder, applying more pressure on the sensitive bud, “my dirty girl wants to cum, mmh?” he surprises you with a hard slap to your needy pussy, that sending you over the edge.

“I-I’m cumming Kook, p-please don’t stop, please!” you cry, cumming on his cock while he keeps up with his thrusts. “That’s it love, cum, I got you,"he coos "you feel so good clenching around my cock” whispers your boyfriend next to your ear, as he keeps stroking your clit, helping you ride your high.

Once you get back to reality, you feel his thrusts getting sloppier, and you know he’s getting close to cumming, needy hands grabbing onto your flesh.

Left hand still pinching your nipple, he places two tattoed fingers inside your mouth, and you suck them as if it was his cock. “Baby I’m close, you feel so good, I’m gonna cum, god, I’m so close” he says between moans. “Where do you want me?” he asks you, feeling his release getting closer and closer.

“Tits” you answer.

He takes his cock out your pussy and gets up to stand next to the bed’s edge, and you feel your pussy clench at the feeling. You already miss him, wishing he could be inside you forever.

You, who are still on your knees, crawl on the bed, putting your tits at the same height as his cock. “That’s it, love, press them together for me, would you do that?” he asks, hand stroking up and down his shaft, putting more pressure on the tip.

You press your tits together, looking at him in the eye. God, he’s so handsome. And all yours.

“I’m so close baby,” he whines as he fastens his pace. You kneel a bit, getting close to hiim, and put your tongue out, licking the tip.

That sends him over the edge “I’m cumming, give me your tits”. After a few more strokes you feel the warm spurts of cum landing on your tits, ”I’m cumming so hard”. He keeps stoking his cock, getting all the cum out. He slaps his cock against your tits, smearing all the cum, and you get your tongue out to clean him up.

“That was…something” he says between pants. You laugh as you get up, giving him a passionate kiss. Your cum covered tits press against his chest.

Once you are a bit more relaxed, you decide to look at the chat. Jungkook reads a few of them out loud, happy with the aftermath of your little show.

[cckaddicted]: that was so hot! you have one new subscriber

[gddgirl4]: I hope you guys don’t mind I got my vibrator out for this I came so hard

"Thank you so much monsterdick74 for the tip! Thank you all”, he replies to a few more comments, making small talk. He tells the chat that this was not a one-time thing, and that you are planning on doing more live streams more often.

“Same time tomorrow? What do you guys think?” he asks the chat. Everyone is excited, and the subscriber count keeps going up. “That was all for today guys, see you!” pressing on the ‘end of live’ button, you see the chat disappearing, going back to being only you two.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to do this again tomorrow, right babe?” you say, filled with excitement.

“I gues we finaly getting that couch” he says, laughing.

[ttsukiimi]

୨୧⋆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ in which geto has never really found a purpose for the mirror in his bedroom until you.

୨୧⋆ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ geto x fem!reader, smut (mdni), full nelson position, size difference if u squint, katoptronophillia? (sx in front of a mirror), slight belly bulge, marking, unprotected sx, bit rough at the end, creamp!e. (he basically fcks you dumb!)

Suguru had always had this fantasy--a wet dream even--of ruining someone in front the spacious, looming mirror perched at the foot of his bed. Hell, he'd barely even look into the thing, only doing so when he was in a hurry or in need to fix his hair or clothes. So, it just always seemed so right.

The lucky day you finally came around, doe eyes innocently surveying around the room, lips curling upwards into a smile as he took your smaller form in his arms, he knew you'd be the one to fulfill this dirty little fantasy of his.

His sharp eyes didn't fail to notice the way your vision zoned to the mirror, admiring the gold little details around the frame. "Sugu, what do you use that for?" You asked in that sugary tone of yours, unknowing of what the question would arise into.

Suguru chuckled at the question, seeing his chance, and planted a kiss to your pulse-point, peering up at you, eyes entwined with something you couldn't quite place at the moment.

"Wanna find out?"

And you did soon enough. But by that point in time, he had your thighs pressed against your stomach as his arms locked around the back of your knees, cock pummeling in and out of you at an almost inhuman pace.

Sweat trickled down his forehead, hot pants fanning past your neck.

"Do you know now, princess?" he questioned, the sentence shaky. You locked eyes with him through the reflective glass, moaning alone at the cocky yet pleasure-stricken look on his handsome face.

Your mind felt too fuzzy for you to even consider answering him, mouth opening for an answer, though all that came out was an incoherent mewl.

"Feels that fucking good, huh? Got you dumb on my cock." Suguru groaned, losing himself to the way your walls pulsed and clamped down so deliciously around him, sucking him in like he was the breath to your lungs.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks in embarrassment at the noise your cunt made around him, the loud squelch of your juices being smothered on his dick. And even though you inwardly hoped the shameful sound would stop--Suguru felt his cock twitch inside you--it was like music to his ears.

Closing your eyes, you let your hand hang back, but almost as fast as you had did so, he spoke up. "Keep your eyes on the mirror."

And he thrust in particular hard, causing you to yelp in pleasure and pain and immediately comply with him. "But Sugu, can't keep them open," you watched his reflection, hoping he'd at least serve you some mercy--but no.

"'M not saying it again, baby." that was final. His lips attached to your neck and sucked, only popping them off until he was satisfied with the blemishes on your supple skin. He watched as he entered and came out of you, your clit red and swollen while your folds stretched to accommodate his size.

Suguru slid his gaze up and almost came on the spot.

He could see a slight bulge on your lower stomach where he fucked into you, and he swore something feral let loose in him. Suddenly he was rutting into you twice as fast, heavy and thick inside, a thin sheen of sweat now covering his forehead and sculpted body.

"Y'fucking feel that? Feel me where I'm not supposed to be?" he panted near your ear, your toes curling in sheer pleasure. You nodded, not daring to open your mouth, and let the feeling consume you.

Your thighs began to shake as you neared your high, your nerves overwhelmed with static. "Cumming!"

Before your juices dripped down his cock, the warm feeling triggering his own orgasm, and he gazed at you.

"Inside."

Suguru didn't need any more than that. He released his pent-up load into you, fucking all of it into you.

You were both left panting, inhaling in air that smelled of sex. He sighed contently and pressed a kiss to your forehead, placing your still quivering and sweaty body on the bed.

"That was..." you cut yourself off for air, "So good, Sugu."

Suguru kissed you again, this time on your lips, slowly pulling out of you with a pained and muffled groan. You didn't even want to let go of him.

His lusty gaze snaked down to your battered cunt, drinking in the sight of his seed dripping out of you and the white ring of cum formed around his base.

"Thank you, princess."

[hxltic]

goin limp in könig’s arms nsfw

at first he’s a little frightened with the feeling of your already soft body in his large hands going even softer. Unnaturally soft. It was no question he was a large man, and by this point you two had been going a few rounds, so after you begged for his merciless side that only seeped from him on the battlefield, he’d obliged after forcing himself to forget about his personal feelings for your pleasure. Your back seemed to be stuck in an arch, with your hair thrown in different directions where the pillow was supposed to be. It was elsewhere on the floor.

There was a rough grip on your hips as he pulled you down onto his length, keeping his thrusts short and deep with whatever momentum you gave him. It was significantly easier before your eyes rolled back and your hands sought refuge on the headboard behind you, which he has now recognized as pleasure, along with incoherent babbling. You wished you could see the way his thick, toned thighs move back and forth for every single one of his sharp thrusts or hear the heavy german-accented pleasure fall from his lips, but you can’t. Instead, you could feel it. Instead, you could only see darkness or the ceiling through slim vision. Instead, you could faintly hear every time the headboard hit the wall, despite it being hard enough to create dents in the material and rattle the building.

“Kö-König,” you’d attempt, and once your babbling got the least bit coherent (more than just his name of course), he’d grunt back, “Ja Liebe, I’m here.” Even if you didn’t completely understand him all the time yet, you’d come to learn the most important words. You never actually did give him a response though. Just a long, sultry whine.

He chuckled breathlessly at you. Where you two meet, there’s a wet stickiness, one that would feel icky to you if you were mentally present. Everything was red. Ass, cheeks, and both your lips. Your throat would be too, but König just cannot get over how much bigger he is than you, and he has yet to comply because of the thought of it being too hard and genuinely hurting. Even if you had a nonverbal safe code.

But once it seemed your body shut down completely for his use, he couldn’t deny the primal urge to ruin you while he could. He had time to be upset over his lack of self control later. One hand of his could almost wrap under both knees, but he uses two anyway, effectively rolling you upwards and folding you in half. He slid himself back in once up on his haunches.

Your knees were now located at your breasts with his arms encasing you to cradle your face in his hands. It was a large contrast to the way he was plowing into the perfect spot, balls deep inside you, making your sounds louder and much more luscious. Even if you wanted to move your legs, or anything else for that matter, the only thing that could really move were your feet, while everything else was held strong against the bed or stuck by his massive body.

Your fingers wrap around his wrists coming in as he gazed into you with an expression that screams “look at me.”

[muzansfangs]

i’m such a slut for ukitake and age gaps 😩

imagine him lusting after the reader, who is centuries younger than him. he’s technically old enough to be her father. he shouldn’t be feeling this way about her but he simply can’t help it. especially not after finding out she secretly has a thing for older men 😏😏

(bonus points if reader is his vice captain)

The Captain’s guilt.

Starring: Jushiro Ukitake x f!reader; mention to Isane, Rangiku, Shunsui and Yamamoto;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, language, masturbation, self-deprecating, dirty fantasy, age gaps but the reader is 21+, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, shy!jushiro, struggling with feelings, unprotected sex, pussy drunk Jushiro, praise kink, dom!jushiro, sub!reader, use of alcohol, nipple play;

Plot: Your Captain is falling for you. Jushiro Ukitake, a noble shinigami, finds himself lusting after his young Lieutenant. Hiding his feelings and the effect you have on him is getting harder day by day. Your presence is intoxicating, but he tries his best not to ruin your relationship. When you end up confessing not only you are into older men, but you also have a crush on him, things take a turn. Nor you, neither him are surprised you ended up screaming his name in the middle of the night, after you offered to help him with work.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Good morning, Captain”.

Another day, another smile of yours, another boner he had to camouflage in his baggy robes, as you cluelessly waltzed into his bedroom with a silver tray in your hands to serve him breakfast. Stunning and loving, his Lieutenant, his downfall from the moral principles he had always slavishly followed. He could not control himself around you.

Whilst you knelt next to his futon, you poured some tea in a cup and blew on it to cool it down. When your eyes fluttered closed, Jushiro clenched the sheets in his hands, knuckles whitening for the firm grip as he cursed himself for wanting you. You looked like an angel, taking care of him motherly, as if you genuinely cared for him. Actually, you did, and he was aware of that. He could see it in the way you risked your life on the battlefield to watch his back, when he needed some time to rest, or in the way you looked for the best doctors in the Seireitei to get some medications for him.

If only you were older, or he was a tad younger. Souls aged slowly and, even though you were four hundred-years-old, you still looked like a young woman in her early twenties. He was much older than you. Jushiro was around, when Captain Yamamoto was a black-haired man who had recently fought back the Quincy King. He was still a kid, back then, but he was there.

He could be your father, but the flesh is weak. Or this is what Shunsui had always told him.

He was not the type to hook-up with women periodically like his best friend did. Right now, however, he really wished he had half of the guts and self-confidence the Captain of the Eighth Division had. Why? Just to have you in his arms, even briefly, a fleeting moment of bliss to let you know how ardently he desired you. Jushiro wondered if you knew he cared for you more than a Captain is supposed to for his underlings. What if you knew? What if your heart throbbed in your chest upon seeing him just like his did, when you entered his quarters?

Illusions. He was so delusional. You drove him insane. A medicine to cure his sickness, but a deadly poison to his heart. Life was not treating him kind.

“Captain?” you hesitantly said then, head tilted to the side, a knot forming between your eyebrows.

He had zoned out once again, apparently. Awesome, making a fool of himself in front of you had become his speciality. Jushiro cleared his throat, cheeks flushing as he realized you were holding the cup of tea out for him to grasp. His fingers brushed against yours, a nervous smile curving his lips upwards.

“Oh, thank you! — the white-haired man blurted out, hands wrapping around the warm cup as he shot you a grateful glance — It looks like I’m getting deaf too. It must he a pain dealing with this old man” he jested, bringing the cup to his lips and taking a small sip of it.

You chuckled, shifting onto your seat to push the tray aside “Old man? I’m sorry to contradict you, Captain, but you’re not old at all. Or, at least, you don’t look old” you said casually, watching the way the rational and placid man at your left lowered his cup from his mouth slowly, interested in your observation.

“Care to elaborate?” he asked you softly, admiring the way some rays of the sun set off the color of your hair, the features of your face, causing a warm feeling to engulf his lower abdomen. This was not good. You were there, merely complimenting him, reassuring him, and he was thinking about folding you in half underneath him like some damn Neanderthal.

A grin spread on your face, eyes straying away from his “Well, you might be older than most of the Captains and Lieutenants around, but you are a fairly handsome man. — you said, cheeks warming up as you tried to be discreet about the topic — I heard a lot of women praising your appearence, not just your charisma”.

The world seemed to stop revolving for a few seconds, but when you decided to add some other words to your already fluttering note, Jushiro wished the blanket was tick enough to conceal his pulsing cock from your attentive gaze.

“And I agree with them”.

You agreed. You thought he was handsome! You, the pretty girl he loved, the girl who was making him question his morals, the sweet girl he wanted to spend every night with really thought he was handsome. He felt lucky. His pale complexion left space to pinkish hues on his cheeks, his hand trembling as he settled his cup down not to spill the tea on the bed.

Jushiro leaned slightly forward, hands clumsily covering the small tent visible through the layers “R-Really? I don’t know what to say, but … Thanks, I guess. A boost of confidence every now and then is greatly appreciated” he stammered, but your eyes had been faster than his hands, your lips parting as you watched your Captain attempting to hide away his need from you.

How sweet of him. Ukitake Jushiro, your Captain, a man you admired, who had kind of watched you grow and who had trained you for years, was currently hot and bothered because of a couple of compliments. Your heart melted, a soft smile on your lips as you decided to leave some privacy to him. After all, he still had to finish his breakfast and the poor man was surely dealing with a rather uncomfortable problem right now.

You stood up, bowing your head reverentially “I have to attend the weekly Lieutenants meeting, Captain. See you later” you said, sparing him a last glance before leaving his room as normally as you possibly could.

If only you knew how reddish the tip of your Captain’s cock was, how terribly sorry he felt for feeling that way about you, how much he wished the thick white ropes of cum erupting from his member, as he jerked off were painting your tongue, instead of a tissue. He was obviously not better than Kyoraku and he was terrified at the mere thought of his cheeky friend realizing he was practically dying to be squashed by your thighs.

Spring days in the Seireitei meant peaceful nightly strolls for your Captain, but also a chance for you to catch up with your friends during your days off. What a coincidence you were sharing a few drinks with Rangiku and Isane in a pub not too distant from the park your Captain chose to spend his free time at. When Jushiro caught a glimpse of you, chattering with your fellow Lieutenants, drink in hand and exceptionally beautiful, he froze solid and decided it was better to change his path suppress his reiatsu not to draw your attention.

Two weeks had passed since the breakfast incident and he had tried his best not to create embarrassing situations in which you had to be stuck in a room with him alone. You had noticed he had been acting strangely, as of late, but confronting him about it was not a wise move. Who were you to make your Captain, a man you were devoted to, a man who carried himself with dignity, uncomfortable? Time would have fixed the situation, or you were confident things would have worked out just fine from now on.

Jushiro was about to turn his back and leave, when he heard the noisy Lieutenant of the Tenth Division ask you a spicy question “Kyoraku Shunsui. Smash, or pass?”.

He had no idea why he stood there in the shadows, feeling like a creep, as he awaited in trepidation for you to answer that stupid question. For some reason, though, it was important for him. He expected you to blend in with mass of girls swooning at Shunsui’s door and say you would have gladly shared your bed with him. He would have not blamed you for that. Every woman he knew had a thing for his best friend.

Still, you were his jewel. He did not want you to crave Shunsui. He wanted you to choose him. He was selfish, he knew his thoughts were impure and not appropriate. He was in no position to argue with you about the men you fancied.

“Pass” you curtly said, causing Rangiku and Isane to gasp and for Jushiro’s mood to brighten up again. He leaned his back against the wall, staring blankly at the Moon above him, electrified to hear you were not one of the numerous fangirls ready to kill to be Shunsui’s partner for the night.

Rangiku slammed her glass down onto the small table “Pass? Girl, you are the Dilfs’ fucker here! I expected you to throw your panties at him! What’s wrong now?” she piped out, voice too loud for your likings as you covered your face with your hands.

People were watching, obviously, snickering and shooting leering glances at your direction. Isane blushed, shaking her head as she snapped her fingers in front of Rangiku’s face to make her get a grip of herself.

“You drank too much! Lower your voice, people talk a lot!” Isane chided her, only for you to nod your head in agreement.

“I am not into Captain Shunsui, alright? Yeah, he is handsome and hilarious, but not my type” you clarified, folding your arms across your chest, causing the red-haired woman sitting across from you to squint her pale blue eyes suspiciously. She was not going to let this go easily. You were toasted.

She smirked “Oh, that’s interesting now… — she said, leaning towards you with an inquisitive gleam in her eyes — Who is your type then? Someone older than you for sure, but let’s see. Old man Yamamoto is decidely not on the list. May it be his Lieutenant, though?”.

Isane choked on her saké, coughing a few times in shock, while you kept an intense eye-contact with Rangiku “You are going to get us kicked out of this pub. Lower your damn voice” you warned her, as the waiter passing by your table gestured for you to restrain yourselves.

“Then speak up, girl. I have all night long and tons of important men to mention publicly. — she retorted, determined to make you confess who exactly was your crush — Say it, come on”.

“My Captain”.

You had not even realized you had blurted out that answer, until you saw your friends gape at you in genuine incredulity. It was not like they had not expected you to possibly fall for your charming Captain, but you had not been that reluctant to admit you had feelings for your superior. You did not imagine yourself having that conversation either, the urge to disappear into a black hole gnawing at your liver now. You took a swig of your drink, the burning sensation down your throat helping you to cope with your audacious confession.

“Have you two fucked?!” Rangiku inquired, only for the waiter to finally lose his temper and come at your table with a livid expression plastered over his face.

“You three! That’s enough, get out of here!”.

Giggling on your way out of the pub, you took the road opposite to the one where your Captain was finding shelter. Emerging from the darkness, he palmed his forehead, your words still ringing in his head like a pleasant song he could not stop thinking about. You liked him, you reciprocated his feelings. This did not make him less guilty for lusting after you, but it gave him the chance to act more confidently around you.

Enjoying the gentle breeze blowing through his long, white locks, Jushiro resumed his walk, head light as a feather, while relishing the thought of you in his embrace. For the night, he could forgive himself.

The next day came and with it some errands to run around the Soul Society. After being summoned by Captain Unohana, you were now entering your Captain’s quarters with a pile of documents to sign tightly pressed to your chest. Sighing, you were glad to find the door open. The fresh evening air provided a cool environment for Jushiro to work. It was not unusual for him to ask you to open the windows and leave the doors open on your way out.

Sitting at his desk, his haori draped over his broad shoulders, Jushiro was reading some reports about some Hollows causing troubles in the Rukongai. He would have not even acknowledged your presence, if you had not announced your arrival.

“Good evening, Captain! I’m coming in” you chimed, crossing the threshold with a small smile on your lips.

Jushiro flicked his eyes up from the papers, his lips mirroring yours in a soft smile that dropped at the sight of another stock of documents he was expected to check. Duties before anything, right?

“Ah, I see. It’s going to be a long night, I guess” he sadly realized, as you knelt down next to him and settled the files onto the desk.

“These are from the Fourth Division. — you explained, hands flatly splayed over the smooth wooden surface — You can’t stay up all night, Captain. You need to rest, or it might be detrimental for your health. With your permission, I would like to stay for the night and help you out”.

You were too sweet for him. He should have sent you away, denied your request, no matter how much he wanted to spend more time with you. He yearned for your company like a starving bear tasting honey and begging for more, striving to get to the top of the tree to reach the beehive and enjoy the nectar. However, it was night. Was he really ready to offer you a bed to sleep next to his one, once your eyelids were going to get heavy after tiring hours of work? He was going to die a painful death, admiring you and restraining himself from kissing every inch of your skin.

He had to refuse, but he knew you would protested. Therefore, he went to the extent to propose you a good compromise.

“I won’t let you work yourself to exhaustion. I will gladly accept your help for a few hours but, when it starts getting dark, you go back to your dorm” he suggested, tone placid but firm.

You shook your head, though, hand reaching for a brush and dipping it into the dark ink pot “I’m sorry, Captain Ukitake, but I will have to disobey your order and refuse your offer. — you calmly replied, signing the first document swiftly with your Captain sighing in defeat in the background — Now, let’s get this over with” you added, encouraging him by splitting the pile in halves and handing him one of them.

“You are way too lenient with me” Jushiro stated, before resuming his reading again.

And hours passed by. You chattered with your Captain, the pile of documents decreasing slowly but surely but you were not even close to be done yet. When dinner time came, you had a quick snack and persuaded your Captain to rest a little more than you did. Naturally, he promptly protested, but you ended up convincing him he would have been more proficient with some hours of sleep over his shoulders. Begrudgingly, he agreed and sleep found him easily.

While you worked, you lost the track of time. You forgot to wake him up as you had promised and you just kept on working until your back hurt. Glancing outside the window, the Moon greeted you and the clock indicated it was midnight. You were ready to grit your teeth and keep on pushing yourself to the limit, when you suddenly felt the familiar reiatsu of your Captain embrace you from behind. You straightened your back, eyes widening even so slightly, as his hands rested comfortably over the top of your shoudlers.

“I overslept. You should have called me” he pointed out lowly, gently, as you apologetically nodded your head and discarded the brush over the desk.

“I should have, but your health is more important than work to me” you objected, turning your head slightly to the side to meet his kind chestnut eyes. Jushiro was sitting right behind you, his large frame almost draped over your back like a blanket, as he grasped your wrist delicately and shook his head.

Goosebumps raised on the back of your neck, his chin grazing over the top of your head “It’s your turn to rest. Lean on me” he offered, causing your lower lip to quiver for the habit of opposing yourself to his kind offer.

But you were too tired to be helpful right now and you knew he was not going to let you continue for any longer.

“Ten minutes will be enough” you said, accomodating yourself, as he helped you lean your back against his chest, the sound of the fabric of your uniforms rustling in the friction was endearingly soothing. Just like his arms subtly snaking around your waist and your hands slithering over his bony ones, making your cheeks heat up exponentially.

You had never touched your Captain like that, albeit you wanted him to. You had played scenes like this one many times in your head, hoping he was going to do much more than simply hugging you. You needed more, you needed him. You wanted Jushiro with ever molecule of your body and, God, he desired you too. Your eyes fluttered close, his warm breath tickling your jawline, as his fingertips began to draw lazy patterns over your abdomen, trailing up towards your ribs and then stopping.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked you, his heartrate increasing notably. His hands itched to cup your breasts, to roll your hardening nipples between the pads of his fingers, to swallow your moans with his mouth. But without your consent, Jushiro was not going to go any further.

You arched your back, eyes opening again to peer up at him adoringly “Comfortable, you say? I’d dare to say I’m in Paradise” you whispered, smiling faintly, before your hands reached up to undo your shihakushō. Bold, you were pretty bold right now, under the gleaming eyes of your Captain.

You heard his breath hitch, his hands trembling when you grasped them to lead them to your breasts where he wanted to settle them “Don’t say a word. They’re needless. I want it, Captain. I’m tired to pretend” you murmured, head lolling back onto his shoulder as his large hands finally latched onto your mounds, gently squeezing them.

Your skin was like velvet at the touch, his own arousal causing him to buckle his hips up against your lower back. How shameful, how stupid of him to do such things to you, but you wanted it. His Lieutenant was begging him to go ahead and that night the kind and rational Captain Jushiro Ukitake lost his mind.

He gripped your hips firmly, forcing you to straddle his lap, his legs spreading yours wide, as he kept your back glued to his front. His fingers scambled to get rid of his own clothes, while you spared time by disrobing yourself too. Skin to skin, you were able to feel his hard rock abs graze your spine as he latched his lips over the crook of your neck.

You moaned, squeezing your eyes shut, while his hands went back to cup your breasts, stroking the hardening buds to elicit more whimpers from you. Your breath was uneven at this point, your mouth searching for his as you turned around and tugged down your pants, tired of waiting any longer.

Jushiro was awestruck, thumbs tracing your hipbones, as you rotated your hips over his “Kiss me, please” you whispered, your lips hovering over his, tempting the poor Captain to give you what you wanted. It was not too late to stop, he kept on repeating himself that, but he did not want to let you unsatisfied and the fire in his loins was consuming him too much to neglect his own need.

“Kissing you? I will do more than that” he whispered, capturing your lips in a feverish kiss. His arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you close to him, were a cage you did not want to be set free from. Jushiro was gentle, handling you with a care no man had ever showed you, even when his tongue delved into your mouth and his fingers slipped underneath the waistband of your underwear, eagerly searching for your engorging pearl.

Shockwaves of pleasure made your skin sizzle, your hands cupped his smooth cheeks, as you moaned softly. Jushiro kissed your forehead, his cock twitching in his pants, when your wetness met his fingers. All of this was for him, your heat was dripping because you craved him! He was lucky, oh he was such a lucky man.

“You are … That’s for me, right? You are so good, Y/N-san, you are doing amazing for me. I will repay you for that, my sweet girl. I promise” he whispered, his hair sticking to his forehead as his fingers finally slipped into your core.

You could not talk much, babbling small words out was all you did, your lips leaving wet kisses over his neck and collarbone to show him your gratitude and love for him. Your orgasm hit you in waves, your inner muscles spasming around his slender digits as he watched your labia smeared with your arousal as you reached your climax. You were stunning, his hand glistened in your orgasm, as he quickly yanked his pants down and you crawled towards his unmade bed, panting, awaiting for him to join you.

When his member, ramrod, pulsing, slapped against his navel, you gulped down at the impressive size hungrily pointing at you. If only people knew about this side of him, they would die at his feet. Ukitake Jushiro lacked nothing that Kyoraku Shunsui had. He was just a victim of fate. If it was not for his sickness, he would have been unstoppable. Pumping his shaft a few times in front of you, Jushiro groaned softly, hooded eyes searching yours.

“Would you look at me the same way, if you knew what I did in the privacy of my bedroom when you left that morning?” he asked you, only for you to shake your head and hoist your legs around his hips.

“Nothing would ever change my opinion of you. — you replied, the tip of his cock probing at your entrance — I love you, Jushiro” you whispered, nosing his cheek when he caged you to the bed with his strong arms.

“I wish I could tell you not to love me, but I am twice as guilty. Forgive me, if you can. I love you, I have loved you for too long to keep it to myself” he said, before entering you with a smooth thrust of his hips.

You let out a strained moan, your tight walls causing Jushiro to grunt in bliss, his brows furrowed as he pressed his forehead against yours. Bottoming out took him a few seconds. Making his way inside of you, he had the care to gradually conquer inches without bruising you in the process. Tenderly, he looked at your face, searching for any signs of discomfort. Once he found none, he pulled back enough to let his tip buried into your heat and slammed back into you a little more vigorously.

Melodic moans left your mouth, neck strained back, when he set out a slow and firm pace to hit the spot that made you wrap your legs tighter around him. His white hair seemed the beautiful and cold stalactites hanging from the roof of your barracks, when it snowed. Handsome and yours, Jushiro kissed the valley between your breasts, praises to your beauty and dedication rolling out of his tongue every now and then.

“Beautiful, you should have posed for a painter in the World of the Livings. — he stated, voice muffled by your skin, when he sucked onto your nipple — A pre-raphaelite, those colors would have suited you” he murmured, tongue tracing the bud as his hips snapped towards yours more urgently now.

Your moans had grown louder, sweaty skin smacking together creating a repetitive sound any passer-by would have recognized. But you were too lost into his eyes, in the way the Moon seemed to make his hair glow like an halo around his head, on the way his muscular body would have crashed yours, if he was not attentive.

“Jushiro, please, don’t stop! — you breathed out, a throaty moan leaving your lips, when he grabbed your ankles and set them on the top of his shoulders — I am about to come” you warned him, watching the man above you speed up his movements.

He should have been careful not to overdo himself, but how could he when he was literally drunk on you? Ah your words, oh God, they were driving him insane.

“Come for me, darling. Make me happy, come for me” he incited you, grasping your hands and pinning them to the sides of your head with his ones. Fingers locked together, Jushiro thrusted into you faster, hitting your sweet spot with a perfect aim. Impeccable, sinfully celestial, you reached your climax around him with a powerful orgasm.

As you twitched and tightened around him, Jushiro’s mind went blank. He was not going to be just your Captain, not anymore. His, you were going to be his, as he was going to be yours. Just Jushiro Ukitake, a man in love, not a member of the Gotei 13.

Lolling his head back, he spurted his seed into you, guttural groans erupting from his throat as he filled you. Even though he had always followed the moral codes of a noble warrior, Jushiro Ukitake knew he had to sin that night. He could not let you slip from his fingers.

Someone had told him he would have fallen for a woman, sooner of later.

Therefore, sitting on a windy hill next to his best friend Shunsui, a couple of days later, he said “I plead guilty, your honor”.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! Thanks to the anon who dropped this into my inbox. I did not realize how much I yearned to write for this man until I found myself writing this piece! Thanks!

As per usual, likes, comments and re-posts are welcomed!

Until then,

x o x o

TAGS: @dehemetera @han11dh @bakugosgirl01 @silent-spirits @coowayeoo