#and while yes he does have that moment in a sense

[squiddy-god]

Hi squiddy

I just noticed that your requests were open and I really like your work. If you don’t mind, could i request overstim with blade, boothill, and jing yuan?

Have a great day!

Tee hee yes i absolutely can do this for you! Hope you enjoy this, ngl boothill is one of those characters i STRUGGLE to write for

Request open Cw : overstimulation, overstim both for the reader and for characters, gn reader no pronouns or genital description this is for all <3 blade is a freak. Jing yuan is a closet freak. Boothill is boothill. Maybe a little body horror in blade but that is par the course- nothing extreme. Slight blade favoritism 

Blade 

I think that blade is absolutely one who is into overstim, on purpose or on accident 

I am a feral blade truther so like, i firmly believe this man gets so lost in the sauce 

Frankly if you aren't both overstimulated he isn't doing it right 

One of the main things he does is after he's done absolutely rearranging organs, he is laying on top of you, panting like a dog- but he dosnt stop, hes still fucking into you- hes determined to get hard again as he bites into your neck and shoulder

And it happens over and over and over again 

Dont ride him 

Leg day is leg hell with blade because he will use your thighs as his personal stress toys as he keeps you bouncing on his cock- hes slick, messy and flushed a angry red but he just can't stop because its like his eyes glaze over 

Do I think his blessing of abundance changes things? Yes, yes i do and ill die on that hill 

Big fan of blade “i need you to sit on my face” 

He frankly works himself up to this point, i don't think he knows the meaning of “casual” and i don't think he intends to learn 

“Casual?” you mean eons of torment passing between the seconds away from you? 

There is a part of his brain you itch just right, something deeply rooted and twisted in him at the thought of being your tool, a blade. Because he knows you see his personhood, his humanity and that you won't discard him…but watching you fuck yourself against him? Seeing the way your eyes screw shut and you start to wince and twitch. The way your leg jerks as he pushes it back again. 

His hips start to stutter even with the shallow thrusts, it starts to sting, every slide and wet squelch burns. Every time his pelvis slits against the curve of your ass there is a twinge of pain because both of you are rubbed red and raw. He kisses over the bites on your neck and shoulders, but his teeth ache and he nips at your nape again. He���ll be fine, five minutes tops before his skin is back to its original pallor no longer marred with the red burn of his own insatiable greedy movements. His skin has broken slightly, and that is his que to finally, finally wrench himself away from you. He’ll sit there letting you breathe without the air being slammed out of your lungs, if only for a moment before he's gathering you into his arms to bathe. Insidious haze lifted from his mind, finally letting himself bask in the thing he craves just as much as the overstimulation- that being you clinging to him, shaking against him letting him help with the ache and sting while you sooth his soul. 

Boothill 

Something something cyborg robo dick 3000

He lives vicariously through you and so can you blame him when you just sing so pretty for him? 

Now that is assuming he cant feel but honestly i think he probably has some sense of feeling 

It isn't the same as it used to be, but it's feeling 

But that being said i think boothill gets overstimulated kinda easy, he travels alone as a galaxy ranger at least until he met you, so he isn't exactly beating the touch starved allegations any time soon 

Boothill also has a biting problem but specifically he is going to absolutely wreak havoc on your chest, he is biting licking sucking and groping until you get in that over sensitive state where even the breeze has you twitching 

Then he'll move on until every part of you is like that 

Don't let him bully you 

Kiss him silly, tease him, check out those ports wink wink 

Yk what i am not going to figure out the logistics of horseback sex, danmei novels have already got that on lock but i will be leaving that there as a little thought yeah 

Jing yuan 

The brightest smiles hide the biggest dicks :’( or however the saying goes 

I know this :3 mf has a nasty mean streak in him 

Heh 8 page full jing yuan closet freak hcs like i did with neuviliette?? 

I will not be convinced this man doesn't do marathon sex, honestly i don't think there is a person associated with the xianzhou that knows what “casual” means, least of all its generals 

Jing yuan may present the air of a laid back man, a casual air that seems to naturally take the space around him but do not be fooled this man knows not the meaning of casual 

Don't get me wrong, he's a huge fan of lazy morning sex…until it turns into lazy afternoon sex and you're shaking because he is bullying you, truly. Laughing like he hasn't been knocking the air out of your lungs for hours relentlessly 

And you can't tease him! You cant even tease him back because he just takes it as a challenge

No teasing him about the sleepy kisses he lazily plants across your skin, not a peep about the deep languid thrusts where he keeps that slow torturous pace for hours

None of that because if you thought that was overstimulating you are not prepared for what you've brought upon yourself 

He laughs, that gentle smile disarming you as he plants a kiss to the crown of your head. He goes to work, carries out his duties and you forget your little teasing but jing yuan remembers. When he walks through the door, grabs your hips and wraps one sturdy arm around your middle you realise very quick that perhaps you might be slightly (read very) outmatched in terms of stamina 

I think jing yuan is hard to overstimulate, he ist feral like blade, jing yuan keeps pace and has at least a thin thread of control to not maul you like a curtain individual (blade) 

So chances are you will hit your limit long before jing yuan dose. 

He thinks its funny, in a sweet way, when you try to hit his limit either by pushing past yours, or by trying to focus on him 

Either way he makes you WORK for it 

What's worse is when he does hit his limit you look like you've been hit by a bus and he has that stupid smirk on his face as he curls up with you in his arms.

[fairestbeard]

Something in the way she waits

I keep trying to flesh out the reason we, and me in particular, feel such a discomfort with the presence of Claire. And, yes, I have no problem with admitting that I'm biased against her because that is the truth. But I try to make my judgement based on the general flow and pacing of the show and how Claire kind of brings a mostly unwelcome disruption to it.

Now, just to be clear, there's nothing inherently wrong with just being there for someone or being "available". Some people read it that way but I don't. I think her behavior could work and even be useful with certain kinds of people (and who knows whether it's even written to work with Carmy) but it doesn't work with most of us. And it's deliberate in my opinion.

She gives that energy of I'm not going anywhere and not in a good way (to us at least). There has always been this feeling of going somewhere in the show and there's always movement happening. It could be break-neck fast, it could be a slow and easy flow but there's always movement. Carmy, especially, doesn't wait for anything and for someone who accuses other(s) of being impatient, he seems to be the most impatient person. So you would think that someone appearing to stop him in his tracks, as it were, would feel more becoming. But with Claire it feels more stall-y than taking a breather. Now, that's not her fault. I repeat, it's not her fault . She is who she is, but it's Carmy's interaction with that notion that makes it disorienting.

As a not so much of segue, one hilarious bit in their interaction on their initial meeting is this part where she declares, "because you're the bear and I remember you", it gave wanting to take it somewhere big. Somewhere ta-da! She looked like she was going for that aha moment from her body language the way I read it

but his reaction was the embodiment of and nobody moved...

I always burst out laughing anytime I get to this part because I've seen a lot of clairecarmy fans hail this moment as him being so deeply touched and even shook by that reveal of hers but the way his face screams

"the fuck does that even mean?"

After this bit, when she gets no real reaction from him, she awkwardly moves to the next goal- getting his contact info. In a perfect world, it would be more enthusiastic since she just rocked his world but here it just felt like painfully gnawing for somewhere to go. Then he gives her a fake number and we know the rest of the story.

BUT THE END OF THE SCENE... She finally gets what she wanted; his contact, even though she didn't know it was a fake one. Then she just... stays there! This was a chance meeting right? She did come there to get something or for her own needs right? So why does she just relax more in that waiting position like she had nothing else to do? Especially with the finality to Carmy's "okay" delivery which to me looks like a polite dismissal. In an ideal scene after she (or they) reach that point, she'd promise to reach out and go about her business- the business that brought her here in the first place, while he looks on or contemplates or whatever. But she just hangs there after what seems like a conclusion with that "bingo!" smile.

This image of waiting pervades every interaction they have. The way she, even though she's supposed to have a chaotically full life, seems to be developing her whole persona around waiting for Carmy to choose her, to go there with her. And there doesn't feel like where Carmy really wants to go? It's like that person that doesn't actively push you in one direction but does, in the sense that, they quietly wear you down with their presence till you choose anyway and usually what they want.

I've heard a lot of people say "if the roles were reversed" Yes! If the roles were reversed it would stick out as more grating and more sinister. Because if it's a man it should be more grating because it is more sinister. If the roles were reversed we would immediately fear for Carmy's actual life but we know in this case we don't have to in the visceral way we would. Nobody is expecting Claire to wait around a corner for Carmy with a scalpel in her hand or anything like that. And even if she did mention it and Carmy could be said to have taken it at least a little seriously (with the way he initially looked spooked by Sammy's appearance in season 3), no one is expecting her to actually sic the Faks on him. Not that these things can't happen but we don't expect it. Naturally.

But that doesn't make her any less annoying or unnerving. I always react to Claire scenes with a tired sigh or an eye roll or an exasperated laugh. She wears me down. She tires me out. She straight up bores me. No matter how much I try to watch her scenes with understanding, that coy, expectant gaze drives me up a wall. The way she always has different versions of that look, even in Carmy's panicked flashbacks.

For some reason, her whole presentation feel like a parody of something. Like a cheesy highschool romance flick you only see once. Like that cheesy highschool romance flick where the pretty temptress-esque classmate at the party gives a (usually more enthusiastic) naive plain boy sultry inviting looks, while he, enraptured, slowly follows her down a dark path to a corner where he is suddenly mercilessly gutted with a scalpel by a masked assailant and you quickly realize you were actually watching a horror movie.

(I'll circle back to this imagery in a different meta)

I don't think Claire was written to be taken seriously. And if we are watching her from Carmy's point of view, I don't think he ever took her seriously in any capacity. Because the way she seems to have no depth at all even though she's supposed to be this bad ass, big deal, life changing character in Carmy's life. The way she feels kind of like a caricature. It's almost unfair. But there's a reason she's there, and I don't think she was brought in just to scare the sydcarmies. I have a feeling she plays a bigger part in Carmy's story and we'll have to brace for it. It might even be interesting.

Hopefully it's not anything silly like an endgame.

[verb3na]

MDNI! 18+! I will block ageless and empty blogs.

Cw- perv!reader, perv!Gaz, degradation, slutshaming (use of whore), unprotected sex, pure smut.

Wc- 5.2k

Pt. 1

☽☀︎︎☾

You don’t have time for relationships due to working two jobs trying to pay off some debts and Kyle doesn’t have time to be in relationships due to being 141. When you both met, it was strictly roommates. You cooked dinner and he ate if there was enough or if he was even home. Slowly but surely, you made sure to cook enough for him when he was home, maybe enough to take for lunches on base. It was a slow process but it happened, he was grateful for it.

You’ve been attracted to him for a long time, being roommates with him was fun. He was kind, funny, caring, and overall a great person to spend time with. He was even kind enough to take over the chore of laundry when he’s actually home, you absolutely hate laundry.

You’ve heard how good he fucked other women, was it hurtful? Yes. Were you going to say anything? No. But when he was deployed you found something… enthralling about fucking yourself with a thick dildo on his bed. You couldn’t stand the fact that you were just his roommate. But you were too nervous to actually act on your feelings, this’ll have to do.

You used to just use your hand, stroking yourself languidly, then picking up the pace. Imagining how his mouth would caress your most sensitive parts, imagining how his thick digits would feel within, imagining how many of them you could fit before completely losing yourself in him.

You couldn’t count how many times you thought about the way his veins pop when he uses his hands to grip something or how many times you’ve thought about the way his arms flex when he does literally anything. The movements he makes while doing domestic things is enough to feed your daydreams.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he lifted your dresser just before he left for his mission. The way his veins in his arms popped, the way his ass stretched his shorts, the way his shirt caught on the front of his body… it always makes your mind twirl.

One night, Gaz doesn’t message you that he was coming home. He entered your shared home and heard some faint noises. He trekked through the house lightly, trying to find them.

When he approached his room, he heard light moans coming through the door. He made his way inside just to see your face in his pillow and ass in the air, not only did this excite him, it fills him with a sense of pride knowing now he’s made you just as perverted as him.

You immediately took cover by sliding off the bed with a blanket when you heard him, not expecting him to come home. All he did was start undressing while you tried to stutter out an explanation. How the fuck do you explain that you were just fucking yourself senseless on your roommates bed?

He approaches you slowly, an expression filled with lust covering his face. You slide back on the floor, still naked but wrapped in a blanket. You continue to stutter and explain yourself as you back up to the wall and he stands about 5 inches from you in his underwear. You notice that he’s chubbing up in his boxers, only serving to fluster you more.

He grabs onto you before lifting you to your feet, the blanket now discarded. He gets closer and nearly pins you to the wall, there’s a space between your bodies but his hands hold you still.

“On my bed?” Kyle brings his face near your neck, his breath causing a shiver to course through your body.

You stay still, unsure what to say. How the fuck do you explain the situation without sounding like some pervert?

“Are you that desperate? That you have to use some toy to satisfy yourself?” he continues as you stand speechless.

“Kyle, I’m sorry! I just-,“ you cut yourself to think for a moment.

“You what? You thought that going at it on my bed was the best way? That the thought of me catching you was the best way to get off?” he spoke lowly as he gripped you harder and guided you to his bed. You don’t reply, you just watch him as he positions you on the bed, he brings you further up and leans over you.

“Don’t think I’ve seen a person as dirty as yourself. Getting yourself off on your roommates bed? That’s pretty dirty love, ever think about what I’d say?” Kyle speaks before you could think of a reply. The sight of him in his boxers drove you insane. The most you’ve seen him in before was basketball shorts, the shorts that show off his V-line nicely.

“Kyle, I swear I can explain-,“ you’d start, causing him to tut at you. Your shoulders lower slightly.

“You think you can explain making a mess out of my bed?” his gravelly tone speaks to your soul. His voice drops a bit more “How many times?”

“What?” you look at him confused and slightly nervous.

“How many times have you gotten yourself off on my bed?” he speaks again.

“Kyle I swear it’s not often, I just wanted to try something new,“ you lie. You’ve been doing this for nearly 2 years. You’ve seen him leave for so many deployments and greeted him with an innocent smile each time.

“Trying something new? How’d it feel? Exhilarating? Shameful?” he’d question you while mapping your body beneath him. You were merely a bunny trapped beneath a wolf.

“I mean I just-,“ your thoughts ran dry as he waited for a response. He only smirks down at you, waiting patiently for your response. You continue to stare up at him, he continues to rub you softly.

“Cat got your tongue?” he murmured as he started to look over your naked form. You should’ve just taken off your pants, pulled out a quick orgasm. Of course you wanted the full show, you wanted to hit all of the sensitive spots while stimulating your clit to the fullest extent the day he didn’t warn you of his arrival. You wanted to make a mess of yourself, you wanted to imagine how it would be with him.

“Kyle, let's just forget this happened… I’m sorry-,“ he cuts you off.

“Forget about it? Forget about a woman I’ve been dreaming about for ages making a whore of herself on my bed? I don’t think so, love,” he gets closer, his breath fanning over your neck. “You never told me how many times,” he hums into your neck, nipping lightly after.

“I didn’t count,” you sheepishly spoke, body tense as you held back a reaction to his nip. He hums lightly at your response. His hands trail lower and hook under your thighs, he uses this as leverage to bring you closer to him.

“What do you like to think about while on my bed?” he hums lowly, kissing from just under your ear and making his way down to your collarbone. One of his hands moves to brace himself on the bed while the other continues to hold the back of your thigh, he presses his hips against yours, providing a small amount of friction from his boxers.

“Uh… I like to think of your hands… they way you would work them on me, how thick they are… how strong your arms look and how you could take me in any position you wanted. How gentle you are with me, I like to think of how you could take care of me out of the bedroom but manhandle me in it…” you ramble, thinking of all of the fantasies you’ve had of him. He nips harder, right at the tender spot above your collarbone, this causes you to gasp very lightly, not expecting the feeling.

“Oh so it’s my hands that get to you love? My muscles too? You’re quite the ego boost. I’ll have to make sure to show off more in front of you,’” his tone cocky.

“Kyle-,” your voice was nearly a whisper, the embarrassment starting to truly get to you. Kyle just continues leaving little love bites in pretty little patterns across your skin. The logical side of your brain was begging you to tell him to stop, you didn't want things to be awkward between the two of you. The other side though, it wanted nothing more than to submit to him and let him treat you the way you’ve imagined for so long. His hand trails from the back of your thigh and rests at the front of your pelvis.

“Should I test how much you prepared yourself for me?” he gives you one of his cocky looks, specifically the one that always makes you roll your eyes. You give a slight nod and he sits up a bit more between your legs.

He pushes your legs apart and then uses one hand to spread you open, he looks as if he's inspecting you. He uses his other hand to tentatively prod at your entrance, looking for any type of reaction. While he can very obviously see how soaked you are, he lets out a hum when he's able to feel it. He slowly presses one of his fingers in. The small stretch feels nice, but he's going too slow for your liking. You lift your hips into his hands, trying to get him to do a bit more, but he immediately takes his hand that was spreading you wide and holds you steady.

“Let me have my fun, yeah?” his eyes finally part from your center.

“You’re such an ass,” you roll your eyes, He lets out a quiet chuckle before looking back down. He keeps his fingers moving slowly, but he does add another. He keeps his pace slow, you have to hold yourself back from grinding into his hand. The way he's using his fingers to caress you slowly was driving you mad, you needed more.

He adds a delicious curl to his fingers as he makes a ‘come hither’ motion within you. You let out a hum and close your eyes, enjoying the feeling. He’s nothing like you expected. You imagined him as rough, wanting to wreck you. From what he’s showing right now, it just seems like he’s trying to thoroughly enjoy the experience. He's enjoying watching you beneath him, letting him do as he pleases to you.

He uses his thumb to rub on your clit, wanting to get more reactions from you. You let out a light moan as he does so. He starts picking up the pace, getting greedy with the sounds your body is making already.

He leans over you again while continuing to work his hand and kisses you. You moan quietly into the kiss as he rubs all of your sensitive spots within that he can reach with his fingers at a steady pace. His lips are soft against yours, he seems to be someone that enjoys foreplay so he doesn’t try to enter your mouth, he’s just enjoying the feeling of your lips against his.

It’s as if feeling your lips against his invigorates him, his hand starts to pick up speed and roughness. His hand is causing you to make wet schlicking sounds, he's definitely doing it on purpose just to rub it in your face. You kept your previous wetness from before you two began and now that he’s actually helping you, it’s causing you to be nothing more than a puddle. Something to manipulate on his command, something for him to play with.

He continues to use his fingers on you, his thumb rubbing in perfect little circles and his fingers curling and uncurling within you. His lips against yours do nothing more than make your sounds increase. The moans against his lips, the sounds your pussy makes, the way your legs slide against the bedsheets. It all encourages him to make more of a mess of you.

You desperately need more than what he’s giving and he can feel it. He can feel the way you hold yourself back from moving your hips into his hand, he can feel the whines that come out instead of loud moans, he can feel your hand snaking its way to the arm that’s bracing himself above you. You grip on his arm tightly, needing something to ground yourself as he continues to increase the speed of the two fingers within and the thumb on your very sensitive clit.

After he gets you soaked and nearly to the point of begging for more against his lips, he pulls his hand away. You groan at the action, not wanting the feeling to end. He looks at your face and grins devilishly.

“Can’t have the fun ending so fast can we Love?” he starts to reposition himself between your legs. He still has his underwear on so there's no surprises, but the scene before you gets your mind reeling.

The view of Kyle kneeling before you between your thighs, could nearly send you over the edge. The devilish look he had crossing his face was nearly uncharacteristic of him. It was almost like you were looking at another man. Kyle is usually a calm, thoughtful and bright man. The way he was looking down at you currently, just proves that there's more to him than you realized before. He wasn’t like any of your fantasies, he wasn’t going to claim you immediately and make you remember him for days to come with the amount of praise he gives you, he was going to do everything painfully slow and degrade you. He was going to slowly coerce every reaction out of you, just to savor each and every reaction. He wanted to watch you slowly fall apart under his grasp.

“Kyle for fuck sakes! Are you just going to stare at me or are you going to do something?!” you spoke with a rushed tone, frustrated by the fact that he pulled away so suddenly and stared at you, you felt as if his stare was starting to become condescending at this point.

“Just enjoying the view, love. You look so desperate right now it’s almost pitiful,” he continues to grin devilishly at you, becoming more condescending each second. You groan and roll your eyes, you start moving further up the bed, wanting to be able to close your legs just a little bit more. It was starting to become embarrassing at this point. The way he was staring was getting to you. This caused him to immediately grab you by the thighs and bring you to the same spot, his hands then went to your hips and held you in place.

“You really think that's the best idea right now? Trying to run from me and hide yourself? I've already seen everything,” he tilts his head slightly as he questions you, falling straight into the condescending mood you were picking up earlier.

“Yeah well I dont like when your stare at me like that, especially after-,” you cut yourself off. He regains his smirk.

“The way I found you spreading yourself across my bed? The way I heard your moans nearly as soon as I entered the apartment? The fact you didn’t count how many timeless you made a mess of my sheets?” he teases you, crawling to loom over your face.

“I swear I washed them each time!” you spoke in another rushed tone, being called out like this was causing you to become more flustered over time. He just hums as he dips his head near your ear.

“Shouldn’t have, would’ve loved to smell you in my bed coming back from missions,” he speaks lowly into your ear.

“Kyle-,” you try to speak but he interrupts you.

“Don’t. I already know what you need and I’m not about to lose that. Been waiting for you for too long, you’re good at hiding the way you feel,” he trails down your neck at a slow pace while he speaks.

When he reaches your collarbone, he suddenly flips over and discards his boxers. Throwing them to an unknown corner of the room. You just watch as he repositions himself between your legs. His cock is firm against his stomach as he does so.

He grips himself and starts to slowly rub his cock from your core to your clit. He moves himself from side to side over your clit before moving it down to your drenched slit and doing the same over again. There's no entrance. Just him coating himself in the slick that’s come out of you. This goes on for a painfully long time, him teasing your hole and then moving up to stimulate with your clit. It's very obvious he's playing with you now. You roll your hips, testing the waters. You perfectly timed the rolls to make his tip slightly break the seal. You hum lightly just as he pulls away.

“I told you to let me enjoy this,” he looks down at you, it still seems condescending but at the same time it has a feeling of frustration. He no longer rubs over your slit, he just watches your clit as he drags his cock from side to side over it. When it releases from the pressure, he immediately starts dragging his member slowly back over it. He continues this a few times before he starts lightly tapping your entrance.

“Kyle, come on,” you breathe out. He chuckles lightly before slowly starting to enter your weeping hole.

He takes it slow at first, just using the tip and watching it pop in and out of you, watching the way your slick soaks more and more of him. You let out little hums as he does so, watching the way he teases you. He still has that same smirk on his face as your entrance practically sucks him right back in everytime he pulls out. He glances up to your face and notices the way you watch him tease you. He then pulls out once again and rests his cock against your clit.

“You’re enjoying the show just as much as I am, aren't you love?” Kyle watches you, watches the way you stare down at his hardness.

“Kyle, your cocky ass attitude is making me want to take my toy and go back to my room and finish the job. Stop playing around,” you move your gaze to his face, now looking at the smirk still crossing his face. He just responds with a low chuckle before positioning himself with his tip barely inside you.

“Ready?” he speaks barely above a whisper. You just respond with a nod as soon as he asks. This results in him curtly bottoming out within you. His hands tightly grip your hips as he tries to push himself as deep as possible. He stops when he kisses your cervix, pushing it a little. You moan behind closed lips, eyes closed tightly. He grinds his pelvis against yours, stimulating your clit. He then pulls back, leaving just his head in before angling his hips sideways and slowly pushing back in. He repeats this notion to the other side after bottoming out once again. It's like he's mapping out the inside of you, trying to memorize every bit of you. The way your walls push on him, the way you moan when he hits those special little spots deep within.

He watches the way your brows furrow, the way your mouth stays slightly ajar as he continues to map you out. He notices the way your legs tense around his hips as he finally and purposely lands on your G-spot. As soon as he does, you moan his name. He groans as leans in closer to you, repeatedly hitting that special spot. You squirm beneath him, making it hard for him to hit the areas that cause you to continuously moan, both coherent and incoherent words falling from your lips as well. There’s nothing but praise and curses coming from you as he moves intently over the spot. He’s taking his time with pleasuring you, wanting this to last as long as possible.

He’s started to continuously rub on the area making you see stars, bottoming out, and then moving his hips up to stimulate your clit with his pelvis. His movements are steady but still slightly slow. He’s attempting to drive you insane. It’s like he knows what you’ve always imagined and wants to prove you wrong.

Just as you were starting to relax and truly take in everything he was doing to you, he pulls out and lays flat on the bed right in front of your dripping pussy, he chuckles lightly as he sees the little wet puddle beneath you. You whine at the sudden loss of stimulation. You’re about to protest but he latches himself to your clit. His soft lips press against you as he immediately gets to work. He predominantly works side to side with his tongue, but there’s occasional circles around your pearl before he sucks it further into his mouth. You moan at a little suck before he drags his tongue from your slit, taking the way you taste, all the way up to your little nub that waits for him to return. He groans as he does so, sending a small vibration through your core.

He’s clean about eating you out, cleaning up all of your slick and spit before returning back to your clit. He bounces between quick and nearly overstimulating movements and making out with it, making little clicks as he uses his lips to pull lightly and then letting the poor thing go. He spends more time playing with it than overstimulating it thankfully. Flattening his tongue out and licking a long stripe before slowly rounding your clit with the tip on his tongue and sucking it into his mouth, making a click sound upon release before going back down and kissing your swollen nub again.

When he returns to his fast movements, he immediately starts with the side to side movements before taking a break and licking from your leaking slit to your twitching pearl. Each time he swallows your sweet slick, he groans against your core. Each thing he does pulls moans straight from your chest. Pitching higher as you get closer to your release. You don't think the overstimulation will bring you there but it definitely helps you approach.

He returns to the calculated and slow movements, they make your toes curl and legs stiffen around his head. The overstimulation now fading into more acceptable pleasure, pleasure that starts easing you into the tightening low in your belly. You continue to moan as he continues the worship of your pussy. He hits the more sensitive side and it causes you to gasp, he now focuses mainly on that side and it nearly immediately has your slit pulsing right against his chin as you finally find release.

He gives a few more tentative strokes to clean you up before once again sitting up. You look at him breathless, watching his chin glisten. You watch as he wipes his chin off with the back of his hand before cleaning it with his tongue, not wanting to waste a drop. He then leans over you and stares directly at your flushed face.

“This pussy is mine now, got it?” his voice was husky, like he was trying to hold back.

“Yes Kyle,” you speak breathlessly. All he can do is let a mischievous grin cross his face as he looks back down and starts lining himself up with you and pushing straight through you. You hum as he slides right through until he bottoms out, you moan from the way his pelvis pushes right up against yours.

Your moans are like music to his ears. The deep and deliberate movements he makes cause you to make nothing more than melodies. The way your body accepts him to its fullest extent makes him want to fill you to the brim over and over again, but he holds back. He needs to fully remember this experience, not lose his mind while fucking you senseless.

He keeps up his now knowing pace. There's a reason why he spent a good time feeling within you and it was to watch which places made you moan the loudest, tense your legs, or make your facial expression change.

He moves himself deep and to the side, You grab onto his arms tightly while moaning as he does this. He then decides to continue this movement. The grip you had on his arms progressively gets tighter as he does so. The way he’s finding all of your internal pleasure points is slowly but surely driving you to the edge. His pace and accuracy is terrifyingly perfect. He’s nearly mapped your sweet little hole perfectly at this point. He’s used his time with you perfectly. It's as if this pretty boy was made to drive you insane.

Watching you writhe beneath him makes him want to lose control and fuck you senselessly. He once again holds back, keeping his slow and rough pace.

He’s loving the way you accept him. He loves the sounds you make when he snaps his hips against yours after pulling slowly out of you. He likes the slow but rough road and it shows.

He continues to roughly drive himself into you. His hips pleasantly rubbing your clit when he bottoms out. When he fills you completely, he makes a purposeful movement to rub his pelvis up to stimulate it. The way he’s roughly yet slowly fucking you is driving you insane. From the way he looks down at you to the way he shoves himself back in unexpectedly. Each time he bottoms out you moan, everytime he rubs his hips into yours you moan again, whenever he pulls back you hum lightly.

It’s not until he finally starts picking up the speed of his movements you start whining. He stops rubbing against you and starts to dig his fingers into your hips to get a better stance over you as he continues to speed up. It's gradual but you know by the end of this he’s going to try to completely and utterly ruin you. You know you have to try to compose yourself, there's a part of you that doesn’t want him to see you completely fall apart beneath him yet, and you completely obey that part of your brain. The other side wants nothing more than to crumble below him, to watch him leer over you as he pulls each and every reaction he can out of you. The submissive side imagines you being fucked fervently thorugh your orgasm, making you tighten slightly around his cock as he continues to fuck you, he groans as you do so.

He leans down and kisses you deeply, one of his arms moving to brace himself on the bed. His hand on your hip moves to the back of your thigh and pushes it further up, making him hit just slightly deeper. The noises you’re making pitch up at this new feeling. He pulls back from the kiss and hooks his hands under both your knees and pushes them up to your chest. He watches as your chest moves with each deep plunge into you, each bounce following his movements.

You can feel a pressure building up in your belly, a knot that's just about to snap. He can feel the way you tense and then release the constriction around him. He knows you’re trying to last longer. In retaliation, he angles his hips up and you gasp loudly.

“Don’t hold back. I want to watch you break,” his voice is strained as he pants. You whine quietly when he says he wants you to break. You let go, letting the way he’s pleasuring you tighten the knot within you.

He continues to keep your legs up high, he’s watching the way your pretty little cunt swallows him whole. Listening to the wet sounds mixing with your moans, his groans, and the quiet squeaks coming from his bed.

Your climax is barely holding back, your hand trails down to the glistening pearl and applies a perfect pressure to pull your climax to you. Your legs tense under his grasp and your head pushes back into the pillow. Your pussy contracts around Kyle as he continues to angle himself up, he groans behind a closed mouth. He keeps his rough yet controlled movements steady in the pace as he lets you ride out your orgasm.

He continues to move, he now adds different movements with his hips, hitting all of the spots within that pry all of those beautiful sounds from you. He needed to know that he was able to fuck you better than any person you’ve ever been with.

The over stimulation from his movements and your orgasm was nearly driving you mad. Each time he moved sent a new wave through you. You’ve been devolved to nothing more than a mess, a mess that he pounds proudly into.

The way you were squeezing him brought him very close to blowing his load within, he has to now bring one of his hands from the back of your knee to his aching cock and use his pointer and thumb to make-shift cock ring. His brows furrow as he concentrates on holding back. The sounds you’re both filling the room with, echo deep within him. Each whine, whimper, groan, moan, sucking sound your cunt makes, or even bed squeak has him tightly shutting his eyes as he attempts to continue. He can’t handle the visuals anymore. The way your head cranes back as you speak incoherently between moans is something he’ll both remember for as long as he can and use for wank material.

He continues to grip his shaft tightly, but it's no longer useful. He quickly pulls out and strokes himself quickly before he slightly coats your stomach and then moves to let the last few spurts cover your pussy. You hum, fully satisfied. He pants as he relaxes, he lets go of your other leg and it falls to the bed around him.

He sits back on his knees, still holding his cock before taking the softening thickness and rubbing his release across your clit. He lets out a breathless “Fuck,” before he moves to lay next to you. He brings his hand downwards, reaching for your pussy. You stop his hand before he even reaches the top of your cunt..

“I was just fucked senseless and I’m covered in cum, let me collect myself before I allow you to touch me again,” you speak quietly, clearly fucked out. There’s only a deep rumble of a chuckle in his chest before he brings the hand to one of your breasts, he squeezes. He gets closer and puts the other arm around your head and brings it to his chest.

As you both recover and bask in the aftermath, he continues to play with your tit. He pulls on the nipple, tweaks it gently, and palms it.

You let out a content sigh, “I’m going to go and get cleaned up.”

“Round two in the shower?” he asks while he follows you out of the room, the only response you have is to roll your eyes.

[chiefofsmut]

𝐉𝐨𝐚𝐧 𝐈𝐧 𝐈𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐲

a/n: idea inspired by these pictures of patti. lmk if this writing style is something u guys r interested in. its sloppy but at least id get my ideas out. its not edited not beta read not checked for spelling or whatever just rambling

｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ +:｡.｡:+ ﾟ ゜ﾟ +:｡.｡.｡:+ﾟ ゜ﾟ +:｡.｡:+ﾟ｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ +:｡.｡:+ ﾟ

It's Joan’s and Luke’s first vacation after her husband died and she tries to be happy for him, she really does, tries to enjoy the sunny weather and the time she gets to spend with him. But it’s hard. They sit at the beach a lot. She's tanning while he's playing in the ocean. But she always watches him through her sunglasses. She's relaxing, yes, skin warm and sweaty, but she won't close her eyes. Nothing can happen to her boy. He’s all she has now besides her maker.

Luke makes a group of friends and wants to spend more time with them. “Mom, please, can I go?” They offered to take Luke out for the kids to play. So Joan wants to meet the parents. They are decent. Catholic.

"Live a little, Joan, have a day to yourself," one of the moms says. She seems so carefree, of course–she has a husband who loves her. Joan envies her. 

"Oh, no, I shouldn't," she waves off and blushes. An evening just to herself sounds lovely, but her Luke…

He asks so nicely–a toothy grin–for her to allow him to join his new friends. His only friends right now.

She agrees. "Alright, my sweet boy," she strokes his cheek. "Have fun." She kisses his forehead and so Luke is out. What does she do with her time?

It's still warm in the evening, the sun is slowly starting to set, so Joan freshens up. A nice dress, her hair up because of the heat, still her skin remains damp. Stupid menopause. She visits a small restaurant down the street. They walked past it the other day and Luke had pointed out how heavenly the food smelled. 

"A table outside please," she requests and of course she gets it, sits down and watches the people who walk past her while she sips her cold water. 

And then she feels it. Your eyes. Watching her. She looks over, finds your staring. And you smile at her and toast your glass of wine into the air, waiting for her to mimic her. 

Joan blushes, her skin even warmer now. Too warm. But she returns the gesture. 

The moment is broken when her food arrives. Rich, oily pasta she'll devour. It’s vacation, she's allowed to be gluttonous, right? 

When Joan is halfway through her plate, someone suddenly says. "This one is for you, signora." The waiter places a glass of wine onto her table. She didn't order this–she doesn't imbibe. "It's from the young lady over there," the waiter points to you. You look at her. 

Joan smiles and instead of sending the wine back she just keeps it on her table. She doesn't have to drink it. But it would be rude to decline such a friendly gesture, wouldn’t it? 

You notice that she doesn't touch the wine and just keeps eating, watch her wrap her full lips around the fork. So you get up and suddenly stand next to her. Joan senses your presence and looks up.

"You don't like wine?” you ask.

Joan shakes her head. "I don't drink."

You nod in return but don't seem offended or judgmental. "May I sit?" you ask and touch the back of the free chair at her table.

Joan sets down her fork and it’s hard work to swallow the remaining pasta in her mouth. She wipes her lips with a napkin while she holds your gaze. You are younger, more energetic, more confident. Intriguing?

“Pardon?”

“Do you want company?” you chuckle and pull back the chair, waiting for her answer. Joan hesitates and fingers the napkin in her lap. You take her silence as rejection. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." Pushing the chair back, you plan to leave.

But she doesn't want you to.

"No, please. Sit." Joan says before you can even turn around.

You sit down and place your glass onto the the table, fingers still holding the stem. "Are you enjoying your meal?"

"Yes, it's wonderful," Joan says but is too shy to keep eating right in front of you. The way you smile at her again is somehow innocent and dangerous at the same time. It's… tempting.

"Are you on vacation?" you ask and Joan doesn't miss the way you study her sun-kissed skin.

"Yes, I'm here with my son." At the mention of Luke her expression softens.

You look around as if searching for him. "Will he be joining you soon?"

"No, he is with friends."

"Oh, so you get to treat yourself this evening?" The way you say it makes it sound like it's a good thing, but Joan doesn't like being alone.

"You could say that," Joan says but she doesn't necessarily sound happy. She already forgot about her pasta.

Silence falls over you, only the chatter of the other guests and echoing around you. You keep looking at her, seem to memorize every detail of her face.

"So, your husband didn't join you?" you ask and take a sip of your wine. You couldn't possibly be flirting with her, could you?

"He… passed away a few years ago," you nod at Joan's answer and stay quiet, but Joan can see the empathy in your eyes, that your eyebrows twitch as if you're sharing her pain. "Are you on vacation too?"

You nod. "Yes, I'm here with my friends," you point towards the table you previously sat at, your friends bantering and not paying any attention to the two of you at all. Joan is relieved.

"Seems like a lovely group."

"What are you doing after dinner?" you ask, not even acknowledging her comment. When she looks back at you your focus is already back on her, not your friends.

"Going back to my hotel I suppose," Joan sips her water, tries to quench the hat in her body. It's not only the weather that makes her sweat.

"You should join us," you say confidently and Joan can't help but scoff and shake her head. You couldn't be serious. But you only smile at her reaction, keep trying to convince her. "There's a nice bar only a couple of minutes from here. They do serve some mean water." This time Joan chuckles.

"No, thank you, dear," she says and takes her fork. She doesn't want you to leave but the idea of being out with strangers makes her uncomfortable. You watch as she twirls the pasta and brings it to her mouth, watch as she chews.

When you hum she looks back at you. "You you're just going to spend this lovely evening in you hotel room?"

"Yes," she says in a matter-of-fact way. "What else am I supposed to do?"

"Enjoy the city? Let me show you around." Joan chuckles again. "What?" you ask and join her laughter.

"You're very forward." Her words make you smirk.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"I haven't decided yet." While Joan eats another fork full of pasta you drink more of your wine. After a pause you speak again.

"So? Will you join me for a walk?"

Joan considers your offer. She hasn't been able to simply do things she wants in years, always paid attention to Luke's or her husband's needs, always put them first. She wants to enjoy the evening and see more of the city, doesn't want to sit in her hotel room and wonder if Luke is safe. She knows he is, is probably enjoying himself right now more than she is.

"Where would we go?" she asks.

"Wherever you want," you say and shrug your shoulders.

Joan rubs her damp forehead as she thinks but you're quicker, catch the waiter and ask for the check. You sit in silence until it arrives and Joan reaches for her purse.

"No, no, I've got it," you say and pull out your wallet. Joan gapes at you.

"You don't…" she starts but you interrupt her, already handing the money to the waiter.

"I said I've got it," there is a sternness in your voice that hasn't been there before which causes Joan to stiffen. She watches you pay for her meal and your drinks, then you stand up, expecting her to do the same. Joan rises and shoulders her purse.

"What about your friends?"

"They'll be fine", you say and push your chair back to the table.

Joan is following you down the street without overthinking it, right next to you, her pumps clacking on the pavement and the skirt of her dress flowing around her legs. Your pace is slow and you radiate confidence she can only pray for.

"Have you been to Italy before?" you ask.

"Yes. I've always wanted to visit the Vatican."

"Because of your faith?" you ask and pat you chest bone, right where Joan's cross rested on her own. She blushes, cheeks growing hotter, and her eyes linger at your chest longer than necessary. Even your skin was sweat-dampened.

"Yes," Joan answers and tears her gaze away. She had noticed women's beauty before, indulged in sinful thoughts, but she never acted on them, never strayed from her path. But no women had ever shown that kind of interest in her before, never tempted her in the way you do.

You walk in complete silence, side by side, admiring your surroundings and enjoying every cool breeze that grazes you skins. Joan steals glances at you every now and then, clutches her purse as if it would help her to stay calm.

"So you don't have a boyfriend?" you ask and look at her.

Joan stiffens but she keeps walking and meets your eyes. "Are you flirting with me?" She sounds breathless, insecure.

"Yes, I am," you say and smile.

"Why?"

You chuckle softly. "Because you're beautiful. I like you."

[amalthea-13]

Stolas and Via v.s. Loona and Blitz

Introduction

I'm BAAACCCKKKKK! As much as I adore talking about Octavia and debating about Stella. I wanted to utilize my rewatch of Spring Broken (S1 Ep3) to talk about the dichotomy setup between Stolas and Blitz's parenting styles!

This will be a defense for Stolas because I noticed that many people use Blitz as an example of a "good parent" when- in actuality both of these dorks parent the exact same way but in differing fonts.

You all may wanna argue against that, but this is purely from my observation.

Now the major differences between Octavia and Loona is Octavia wants all her dad's attention and Loona wants less of her father's attention. While yes there is a bit of an age difference and circumstances, we are purely talking parenting techniques and their similarities.

Let's dive in!

Both Don't Listen to Their Daughter's Needs

When it comes to Stolas, one of the major issues I notice discussed is how Stolas disregards Via. That he is only concerned about himself and that she should always come first.

I'm not going to argue against this at the moment since I have outlined many times that Stolas has always been a selfless father who prioritizes his daughter first above his own safety and happiness. If you wanna argue that, go argue with the wall.

Moving on, the biggest complaint is Stolas doesn't seem to concerned with listening or caring for Octavia's needs as I outlined back in the Stolas, Via, and Loo Loo Land essay.

Stolas is known to get caught up in himself at times, and remember that habit is a biproduct of his abuse. He gets excitable due to being deprived of any sense of happiness for so long.

This causes him to not listen or hear out Via's needs when she is clearly unhappy at Loo Loo Land.

Octavia looks consistently uncomfortable and like she isn't having a good time.

Many argue that again, Blitz is a good parent, but he does this to Loona too during Spring Broken. Loona unlike Via is 22 and a growing woman. Therefore she craves independence away from Blitz, but he is consistently up in her space and invasive as all fuck. Going as far to get between her and Tex.

Loona clearly struggles socially as we see later on in Helluva Boss, but here she is trying to make connections and meet new people. She clearly craves social interactions with people her age and people like her. She seeks connections with other hellhounds and therefore it really isn't fair of Blitz to try and stop that. I mean he knows his daughter and is consistently overbearing to an annoying ass degree.

Stolas on the other hand can be just as overbearing and annoyingly up in Octavia's business. Trying his best to do the right thing and often fumbling.

Both Have the Capacity to Be Selfish

One major criticism of Stolas is that he acts selfishly during Mastermind and while I WILL be tackling that in another post, the main thing here is both of them have been able to act selfish at times.

Blitz during Spring Broken prioritizes a parking space above Loona's need for community and socialization away from him. A parking spot is not more important than your daughters needs.

Both Stolas and Blitz have room to be selfish or downright unfair to their daughters, but that doesn't make either of them as awful and terrible as ya'll make it out to be. While I can understand why some people talk about Stolas's parenting, it makes no sense when you realize he isn't much different from Blitz.

Both of them Truly Care

However, both Stolas and Blitz have one thing in common and it is that they care. Despite Loona being 22 and knowing her father is a lot, she still trusts him and knows he will take care of her even if it means things go a bit off the rails.

Both of these men would go through hellfire and brimstone for their girls and that's the biggest takeaway ya'll should take. When debating these two as parents or as lovers.

The arguments come down to Stolas being bad and Blitz being good, but they both care so deeply for their daughters that I think this whole "good or bad" mentality makes no sense since they both are trying their best.

Especially considering the background both of these characters come from.

Stolas and Blitz: Background

Now let's talk about childhood because this is gonna be a DOOZY. Both Stolas and Blitz had ASS fathers. Cash Buckzo sold his son for a 5 dollar bill and a CONDOM. While Paimon couldn't give a fuckin hoot what happened to Stolas as long as it served the Goetia Family.

Both of these fucks did not give two flying fucks about their kids and sadly it shows in how violent they are towards them. Literally during the fire when Cash sees his freshly burnt son, he not only grabs Blitz by his burns, but also hits him!

For Stolas, we know physical violence was utilized to manage his behavior. Not as severe as Blitz's example, but still important to the context of his character.

Also note that Blitz flinches because he himself is hit quite often.

Both of these characters had their behaviors managed by a form of violence and lived in families where they were only as loved as they were useful.

Their love and care was dependent on what they could provide. Hence Stolas believing he has to give Blitz things to make him stay and Blitz's "I can always do better" line during Full Moon.

It's why many of Blitz's relationships fell apart. Once he can no longer gain something or feels like they'll leave him he dips.

It's why Stolas tries so hard to be able to provide for Blitz so he has a solid place in Blitz's life.

Blitz eventually left his family but decided he wanted to be a better father to Loona and that even if the world saw her as a fuck up, that he'd do better for her.

That he himself may be a lost cause, but shit if he can give this girl the opportunities he was robbed of then maybe, just maybe she'll be better than him.

Stolas having lived through abuse, pain, and ridicule for most of his life wanted nothing more than the best life for Octavia so he spoiled that girl with all the love he had since he wanted her to grow up to remember she was cared for and adored.

So she never felt as lonely in that palace as he did.

That despite how vindictive and awful his wife was, he'd provide her a normal life and try his best to give her everything he didn't have.

When I say these men beat the odds of their circumstances, they beyond anything beat the fucking odds.

A person like either of them would have continued the cycle of abuse, but instead both Stolas and Blitz chose to be better father's for the sakes of their daughters and nothing else.

Conclusion

Despite the odds and their lives, both Stolas and Blitz are amazing parents. While this may be a weird way to discuss Spring Broken, I wanted to touch on this topic after seeing the dynamic between Blitz and Loona as it mirrors Stolas and Via.

I hope you all enjoyed!!!

Toodles! Amalthea Out!

[ghost-bard]

Might see if i cant do a little reload to the neve/bellara choice in act 3 (??? Or is it late act 2 i fr do not know) just so i can record davrin stopping deirdre from going after bellara bc that scene and the 3 of them in general live rent free in my head and i was paused right after for so long that the recording i thought i saved was just. My paused screen of elgarnan lmao

[welcometogrouchland]

I miss them so bad (Dick and Damian)

[handfulofmuses]

“Hey - former comedian. Still got it.”

Bradford allows a teasing smirk as he continued to work. It was a shame indeed and partly something that was his fault. Maybe if he never pushed away right from the start, a lot of things could have been different. Maybe they could have worked it out before Shredder descended deeper into madness.

It's no use in thinking about it. He can't change the past. That doesn't mean it is easy to be indirectly responsible just how much things took a turn for the worse because of his actions - or the ones he did not took. So much that could have been handled better, so much that could have been avoided had he made a different choice.

His ears slowly perk up. Thinking less of Xever? Because no legs anymore?

“No.”

Short, but sincere. There was a time when he thought less of Xever - but that was regarding their different upbringings. Does he still think that? It’s hard to shake off old thoughts when you were raised in high society, but not as much perhaps. Bradford wasn’t sure. It feels like it just doesn't matter anymore.

“I mean, look at me. All I've got is just bones at this point."

Still, the more Xever went on, there was a twinge of understanding in his chest. It was true that there was a second time where he hunted down that retro mutagen. It worked on others, why shouldn’t it work on them? The first time he tried Stockman for help and everyone knows how that turned out.

He understands the feeling of not getting subjected to something he does not comprehend. Both times were a horrifying experience and it ruined his life.

It burned, it hurt, the confusion, yes. Nothing compared to his companion who was unable to breathe in that moment.

“It was …. terrifying the second time.”

Which was obvious by the screams of agony back then.

“This chemical … was just burning away on me. It melted everything away until nothing but bones were exposed. Sometimes I worry even if I get my hands on retro mutagen … is this something that can be fixed? Turning into a freak is one thing, becoming the definition of a rotten corpse is another.”

He grimaces as the memory of the stinging pain and everything just sharply gnawing away on him. It’s not something he wants to experience ever again. How differently would the cure be for him? Would his muscles and everything else come back? Or was this permanent damage and Chris Bradford would walk around while his bones stick out?

And yet - this form made him powerful. Faster. Stronger than ever before. All of his senses, a lot more advanced. All of this would be lost if he ever turns back to human.

And yet he can't even beat a bunch of teenagers, regardless of how powerful this form was.

Stockman was an even worse choice than the turtles, especially since he turned into a fly. He certainly leaned more into the mad scientist trope and it was unnerving. Stinkman can't be trusted.

But that was because the mutation was his fault as well. He was the one who put the mutagen collar on him. He was the one who came to mock him. With the little game the fly played when they were on their own, Bradford got the message.

There was no way he would ever ask willingly Stinkman for a substance. Who knows what that little creep comes up with!

Chasing the reptiles for retro mutagen is one thing, but if they would try to give it to him willingly, that would be a reason for the wolf to be skeptical. He won’t face another humiliating situation just because of them.

“Didn’t you want a cure once too? You told Stinkman too. I understand your concerns, but I can’t imagine living with this breathing device is comfortable.”

A smirk.

“Besides - I would test it on these turtles first if we ever get one. That way, we know it’s safe. If they turn back to regular turtles, it will be a lot easier for turtle soup.”

But there won't be a next time. Not if Master plans to finish this today. Still, the thought was amusing at least.

"That's a major thing I like about our relation. Our constant jokes...you make me laugh so much you know? Shame it took us this long to start getting along. But, glad it happened at all."

They got into the thick of it now, Xever was talking better telling the dog what he needed to get and how to work. It was still a slow process and one that wasn't enjoyable for either of them. Yet, as they went on Xever chose to ask a question that was on his mind.

"I know this is strange to ask, but do you think less of me? Cause of having no legs anymore? I often feel like less of a person because of it. And no don't worry this isn't me guilting you we're passed that. I just meant well, I remember hearing that the turtles created a way to turn us back to how we were. I know that you wish to turn back but..."

It had been some hours now, the legs were being reattached bit by bit and Xever being as he was couldn't help but run his mouth. That aspect of him never changed no matter what form he took.

"I don't trust anything those reptiles make. And besides, when it comes to me my whole body changed into a form unlike what it was before. My legs are gone, even if I turn back do I have any assurance that my legs will come back? No, I don't! Also this is alien stuff, this is scary! I don't want to be subjected to stuff I don't understand ever again! It ruined my life, and as much as life sucks for me now. I still at least can make something of it. If I turned back I would lose all the power and speed I have now. I would be less than I was..."

So with those reasons Xever chose to not chase a cure of himself. There were too many variables when it came to him. So he wasn't willing to take the risk if it meant putting himself into a vulnerable spot once more. So Xever accepted is lot and chose to run with it.

"I wanted you to know that, just so you get why I remain as I am. I know it isn't the same for you. But, really think about what that so called cure could do. Nothing in life is free, and even something that sounds good always comes with a cost. I'm not willing to risk it."

[arminsumi]

... hubby!Gojo with a huge breeding kink who just obsesses over you when you're ovulating and can't think about anything else but fucking a baby into your hips.

+ warnings; mdni, breeding kink, some dumbification

+ an; I literally had this idea in my drafts for a year... 😳

Maybe he's got a freaky sixth sense, maybe it's just because he's got heightened senses, or maybe there's some scientific studies to back it up; but Gojo can smell when you're ovulating. And it turns him on — of course it does. He has a bigger breeding kink than you do.

"Oh, you're ovulating." he notes after sniffing your skin... and you do a double take like he's insane. Because he is insane — you married a madman.

He pays closer attention to your cycle than you do, reminding you to mark down when you get your period, and coddling you in the days leading up to ovulation.

"Satoru, it's just an estimation." you tell him, but he's got a glow in his eyes when he sees your period tracker app telling him that today's your most fertile day — if he cums in you today, it's basically guaranteed.

He researches positions that help conception, bends and pushes you into them, and fucks you deep with his thick cock, going harder on your poor hole than he normally does — grunting more than he normally does, throbbing more than he normally does... like it just awakens something primal in him, and now he's obsessively fucking you like he has no other purpose but to breed his sweet little wife.

"Nn! Satoruuu!" you whine and paw at his torso, your walls overwhelmed by the pressure of his cock splitting you open.

"Yes babyyy?" he coos, giving you a crooked, blissed-out smile as he tilts his head.

There's sweat dripping off his abs, his pink nipples are hard, his biceps are twitching, and he's running one hand through his dampened white hair as he stills inside you for a moment.

"'s too deep! T-too big!" you moan lewdly, a bit of drool escaping the corner of your mouth.

"...aw, I know I'm just too big for ya, huh?" he coos cockily; hearing you tell him that he's 'too big' never gets old.

He's so determined to give you his baby that he tries everything to increase the chances; staying inside you for 5 minutes after shooting his load in, having you rest with a pillow under your back so your hips are raised — "Gotta help my lil' guys swim." he acts like an idiot about it, but sweetly so. Nothing excites him more than the idea of being a dad, except the idea of fathering your children.

After sex, when the two of you are cleaning up, Satoru feels over and massages your tummy with a small smile on his face. He's lost in thought, hair all messy and face tired like he's run a marathon, hopeful that this time he got you pregnant.

He'll pamper you like his queen, humming and going to the ends of the earth to get you anything you ask for. He really fawns over you when you're ovulating, and lays on the compliments thick while snuggling your neck and creeping his fingers up your thighs — pretty soon he'll sink them inside and stretch you out on them, preparing you for what he cutely calls "baby making" but is actually sweaty, nasty, kinky sex — there's a definite difference in the cute, snuggly sex and the literal breeding sessions no matter how much he plays it off.

"Satoru... my legs are still weak after this morning, give me a break, will you?"

"Aw come on, this is an innocent request... and if babymaking happens, it happens..." he mutters the last part under his breath.

"You're crazy."

But you know you're gonna fall for it after you take one look at his rock-hard, juicy pink, dummy big cock and those breeder balls.

He just beams victoriously when you hop over to him like a little bunny.

Satoru's pushes into you as deep as your pussy allows him, and then some more just to pressure your deepest spot, pinning your wrists down and whispering sultrily into your ear about how well you take him, how beautiful you look, how good it feels to fuck your fertile pussy knowing that he'll most definitely get you pregnant because his cum is perfect; thick and sticky and gooey and pungent, perfect just like he is — the cocky bastard.

When his creampies makes you cum, A-spot pressured with his pulsing tip, he grins so wide that you scold him about it.

"Stop grinning like a psychopath." you pant.

He just looks up at you, face hardly an inch away, and asks a dumb, smiley "D'you feel pregnant?" ... as if it happens so fast.

"Gee, I don't know, we should go again just to make sure — that was a joke, that was a joke! Nn! Satoru!" too late, he's flipping you over and slowly filling you up again.

And oh god Satoru loves sliding back in for round twos. The smell of sex and cum wafting up and hitting his nose just makes him plunge back into your cum-filled little hole with only one thing in mind and that is breeding you 'till you're stuffed to the max.

"Come on, y' gonna be a good wifey for me and get knocked up?" he rasps against your ear, thrusting his cock up into your sensitive spots until his creampies turn into whipped cream, frothed up and milky-white and smeared on your pussy lips.

Like the nasty boy he is (and always has been, even before marriage), Satoru forces your head down and makes you watch him fuck his dummy big cock into you.

"Yeah, watch that cock fill you up... look at all my cum leaking out..." he tuts, "... don't be so wasteful, baby... oh well, 'm gonna fuck it back into you anyways. Come on, let me in deeper — aw, what's wrong?" he coos when you claw at his meaty bicep.

"'toruuu, so deep! Y-you're so fucking deep, I can't think..."

His heart pangs when he hears you complain about being too stuffed, "Oh baby you don't need to think, just lay there and let me put a baby in your sweet pussy — gonna fuck you so dumb, the only name you'll remember is mine."

Of course, he has to get a creampie in every day. Sometimes even a few times a day. Sometimes even at 4 AM, and you swat him for being a horny idiot — but it takes five minutes to give in because you can hear the need in his voice when he whines "Please?" and starts humping against you, "I've got so much cum for you." he tells you and though it sounds so sweet in his soft, bedroom voice it's hard to take him as an innocent man, because his thick boner is grinding hard and hot between your plush lips.

You can bet you'll probably only get to sleep when the birds are chirping, 'cause your hubby's balls are too heavy and full of cum and he needs to drain himself inside you — oh, and you can also bet that afterwards he will be sleeping like a princess, clinging to you with his face snuggled into your tummy.

[tonycries]

A Million Dollar Baby! - N.K.

Synopsis. Turns out, rent can be paid in much more than one way.

Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, landlord! Nanami (kinda), oraI (male + fem), cúmplay, reader’s a tease, unprotected, creampíe, down bad FERAL Nanami, spítting, bréeding, messing up his glasses, pantý-stealing, he’s sweet but fúcks so MEAN, mentions of Higuruma, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.8k (wild)

A/N. Decided it was high time I feed my Nanami girlies hehe.

“Just get the money and go.” Nanami deadpans, like a mantra. Giving a rapt knock on your apartment door, “I swear m’making him buy me lunch for this.”

Now, it wasn’t that Nanami was exactly upset about taking over Higuruma’s landlord duties for the day - no, in fact, he was the first one at his friend’s door with a bag of prescription medicine for the other man’s fever and the suggestion to take the day off.

But it was the thought of finally coming face-to-face with you - that mysterious new tenant that’d just moved into his building. The one that had Nanami wondering whether you were really as “sugary sweet n’ irresistible” as Higuruma raved you were. 

Though, he can’t imagine you’d be particularly happy about being woken up at 10am on a Sunday for overdue rent - he certainly wasn’t.

Seriously, he had no idea how Higuruma managed to do this every-

Click!

“Higu- you’re not Higuruma.”

Oh, and suddenly, Nanami gets it.

If he got to see this view, too, then he might just become the landlord himself.

It’s as if you knew you’d be playing with his sanity as soon as you opened that door, dressed in a fitted t-shirt that did absolutely everything to show off every bit of skin he shouldn’t be looking at. Your lips curving into a sinful little smirk when you notice his eyes dancing off that excuse of fabric you call “shorts”.

“Um…” you hum, after a few moments of silence. Leaning against your wooden door frame to give the tall man an appreciative one-over, “Nanami, right? You’re Higuruma’s friend?”

It’s as if the sound of his own name jolts Nanami right back into his senses, clearing his throat as he readjusts his glasses. “Y-yes. Nanami Kento.” And he winces, fuck he’s never stuttered like this. Never, even in the toughest of board meetings. Yet, here he was - making a fool out of himself. 

Knowing he’s completely fucked when your delicious grin only widens, he bows politely, “Apologies for barging in like this, ma’am. But Higuruma’s sick n’ m’here to collect the rent in his place.”

You wave off his formality, introducing yourself. “Ah, of course. I’ve seen you around, always been too nervous to come up and say hello, though.”

And, suddenly, Nanami’s glad you never came up to him to talk out of your own volition, he thinks he’s rather put off embarrassing himself for later. Coughing softly, “I apologize, s’my fault. It was rude of me to not introduce myself first.”

“Well, better late than never, right?” you continue in your smooth tone. Before your eyes catch down his broad shoulders, the bob of his Adam’s apple, the clipboard held between his long, long fingers. “Right- the overdue rent. I swear, Higuruma’s always such a sweetheart, he doesn’t bother to remind me.” Opening your door wider to give Nanami a good look inside your cozy apartment - something forbidden. “Come in come in, I seem to have lost my wallet somewhere in here though, maybe you can help me find it.”

Oh? 

And Nanami knows this is dangerous. He knows this is much more than his simple plan earlier of just “get the money and go”. He knows that little glint in your eye certainly does not bode well for him as soon as he steps through that door. 

Yet, he answers anyway, “Of course, lead the way.”

Every bit of small talk in your sultry voice has Nanami gulping, loosening his favorite yellow tie while he follows you inside. Averting his eyes from the curve of your shorts, he takes in the neat state of your apartment. 

That is, until-

“Here we are.” you lead him to a towering pile of clothes piled unceremoniously on your tv room couch. Gesturing airily at the mess, “I’m sure I left my wallet in one of my pants, so you can just sit here until I-”

“I’ll do it.” Nanami’s quick answer stuns the both of you momentarily. But before you can resist, he’s shrugging off his jacket, ignoring the heat of your gaze when he bunches up his sleeves to reveal strong, veined forearms. “It’s only fair, since m’bothering you so early.”

You chuckle, “Oh? What a gentleman, we can do it together then, handsome.”

So here he was - sat on your cramped couch, your thighs flush against his, tackling your laundry. This was definitely a far cry from getting the rent and leaving - but, alas, Nanami can’t find it in himself to complain when he neatly folds up your clothes. 

Whereas you were hastily throwing them god-knows-where, hissing, “Where- is it-” 

“Patience.” he’s humming, placing another t-shirt on your coffee table. “Higuruma’s in no hurry, he can barely get out of bed right now.”

You click your tongue in frustration, “But you, Nanami-”

“-are perfectly fine helping you out.” Nanami cuts in, flashing you a gentle smile. Your eyes widen at the sight of a soft dimple at the corner of it. Which makes him tear his gaze from that pretty pout on your lips to turn back to his dwindling half of the pile, “Besides, it would be a shame if such a nice apartment was messed up by- by-”

Fuck. 

Was that what he thought it was?

His fingers tremble, looking so fucking big wrapped around that those tiny strings of hot pink. Sinful. Obscene. Shit, if he tried he could just rip it to pieces with his bare hands right now - even if you’d been wearing it.

“Hm?” you’re gasping at the sight of the man before you, body stiff, ears a guilty red, gaze hardening at where he was holding onto one of your panties. Oh, shit. You pluck the offending piece of material from his hands, “Oh- whoops. Um- that can’t really be folded.” Throwing a wink at the flustered man - and the lingerie right back at him. “Evidently.”

It was all too much for Nanami, and he’s bringing a hand up to cover his blush - before ripping it off like it burned when he realized it was the same hand he held your panties with. 

Somehow, he manages to choke out, “Maybe- maybe we should try looking somewhere else.”

And it was true - the few messy clothes now leftover (and…Nanami couldn’t forget, your underwear) didn’t show any signs of hiding your wallet. 

“If you say so~” you muse, getting up from your seat - only to get down on your knees. Right in front of Nanami’s manspread legs. 

“Wh-what are you-”

“Under the couch.” you interrupt, enjoying this way too fucking much for the poor man’s sanity as you flash him a cheeky grin. And he smacks himself mentally for letting his imagination be toyed by your teasing whims. “I might’ve dropped it under the couch, so won’t you be a dear and help lift it while I look?”

He couldn’t get up fast enough, almost stumbling over his long legs to crouch down beside you - just anywhere away from this scandalous position. “Ready?” Nanami rasps, biceps bulging tight against his button-up when he easily tilts over your couch. 

“More than.” you take a second longer to admire him before going back to your mission.

Which - whatever’s left of the rational part of Nanami’s brain really thinks might just be to drive him insane instead finding that fucking- what was it- wallet? 

“Hmmm seems it’s not here either, right, Ken?” He doesn’t know what he’s reeling at more - the fact that you used his first fucking name or the way you were arched so teasingly like that. On your knees, spine curving into a delicious little bend that has the crotch of his pants growing just a bit tighter. And- shit he was wrong. So, so wrong. Because those weren’t a sinful pair of shorts like he’d initially thought after all, instead, they were more like underwear. Flimsy and thin, bunching up perfectly at the crease of your hips. 

You were captivating. 

At his heavy silence, you bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently, “Oh? Was it the name? Sorry, Nanami, you’ve just helped me so much that it ah- slipped out. I won’t do it again.”

“No.” he grits out, the both of you surprised by the ragged hitch in his answer. Already so disgustingly missing the sound of his first name rolling off your tongue. “I’d like it if you called me that- ‘Ken’ that is, if you want.”

“Well then, Ken.” you brush up unnecessarily against his sculpted body as you move to get up and dust yourself down. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my wallet’s not down there.”

Shit, he thinks, looking down at the empty spot of carpeted floor for the first time. You little tease, you knew what you were doing. 

Grinning unabashedly as you tug on his arm, “Come on! There’s one more place to look.”

As you pulled him along to the kitchen, Nanami had held out the hope that maybe - just maybe - this would be an actual attempt at finally paying off your overdue rent. Maybe he could walk out of this unscathed and holding onto whatever’s left of his dignity (and lacking the raging boner that was threatening against his slacks right now).

But every feeble hope of that was thrown out the window the moment you instructed him to hold the rickety, certainly unsafe chair propped up in front of your counter steady. 

“I swear I must’ve left it somewhere up there.” you grumble. Not wasting a moment before climbing onto it and rifling on top of your high cabinets. “No harm in trying, right?”

He gulps, palms getting sweaty on the wooden back of the chair with the effort to keep it still. “Are you sure you left it on top of there?”

“Huh? Yes yes, of course.” you answer absentmindedly. Your shirt snagging on your arms as you raise them even higher, “Think you can see something from down there?”

If Nanami could see the top of your shelves, then he didn’t want to find out - not when one glance upwards blessed him with a forbidden glimpse right up your t-shirt. All it took was a flash of skin before he was hit with the realization that you weren’t wearing a bra. 

“Ken~”

“Fuck!” he breathes, when he looks up involuntarily at the sound of his name. Face burning when you raise a brow, “U-um, m’not sure.” 

Yeah, he sure could see something - hell, he wanted to see more. 

He urgently swipes at the sweat slowly beading at his forehead, immediately regretting his actions when the chair tips ever-so-slightly. “Shit, I apologize, n’ I also apologize for what I’m about to do-” He gasps over your soft yelp, before wrapping two warm hands around the small of your waist. Searing. Soft. Planting you softly on the firm floor like some lil’ ragdoll, “-but I can’t let you put yourself in danger this way.”

Before you know it, you’re back in the safety of the ground. Stood right in front of a determined Nanami as he cranes his head up in your stuffy kitchen, backed up against the counter as he takes over looking for your wallet. 

“Let me, instead.” he grunts. 

But oh even with how genius he thought it was to look instead - even with how he stopped himself from looking at that sinful little slice of heaven - Nanami Kento had another problem. 

A problem that presented itself in the way that your body was pressed flush against his muscled chest, two of your thighs straddling his thick ones. Caged perfectly against him, exactly in the way he shouldn’t have been imagining - but did, anyway. And shit if he angled his body just right he could feel the heat of your core - the way your eager front was drawing in closer. 

“Ah-” he grunts when your soft palm glides lightly across his pecs. Jaw clenching while he tries to blink his hazy eyes back into the glaringly empty top of your cabinets, “My apologies, seems uh- your wallet isn’t- here-” 

Each word is wrenching out of his pretty, worry-bitten lips, a ragged gasp with every accidental brush of the pads of your fingers at the hem of his tight pants. 

“It isn’t there, hm?” you purr, a low honeyed tone that has all the blood in Nanami’s body rushing to his fat cock. “Well what do you suppose we do about that, Ken? Since I can’t pay the rent?”

Nanami doesn’t know whether you’re talking about the rent or that massive tent in his pants he really couldn’t explain away. Instead, he spits, “You knew what you were hah- doing, didn’t you, you lil’ minx? You don’t have your fuckin’ wallet here.”

And the air is so thick, so heady that he can only bring himself to pull away mere millimeters from where he was hovering near your face. 

But even that was too much - and in a split-second, you have your deft fingers wrapped tightly around his speckled tie. “And if I did?” Pulling close enough to ghost your lips against his, “You’re smart, Ken. So m’asking once again, what do you suppose we do about that?”

As if to draw out the answer from him, you’re giving a long, hard drag of your hot cunt along the outline of his swollen cock. You could almost feel every throb and nudge of his veins along the side, and it made you salivate.

“I suppose…” he answers, guttural, like some dark, primal part of himself is peaking its head out with each hot breath fanning your face. A large hand coming up to squish your cheeks into a pretty pout, pursing your lips perfectly for him. “That you hit me if you don’t like this, darling.”

And fuck for all how much of a gentleman Nanami acted - he kissed the exact opposite. All but ruining your lips in such a messy clash of teeth and tongue and him. Devouring you. 

“Fuck- shoulda known.” he’s letting out a humorless laugh, swiping his tongue across your glossy lower lips. “Should’ve known when you invited me in. Such a tease.” Drinking in your breathless moans, sucking on your tongue, “Such a- ngh- horny lil’ thing. This what you wanted all along?”

You hum into the kiss so drunk, “Maybe.” Dancing your hands all across where his toned muscles were fighting against the restraints of his shirt, “But you really can’t blame me.”

And maybe it was true - maybe this was inevitable. Either way, Nanami didn’t know, nor did he really care - not when you were letting out such sweet gasps when he bites down on your bottom lip - just a little punishment. Kissing his way down your heated skin, giving a languid lick at where he suspected that secret sensitive spot on your neck would be. 

“Oh! Ken.” you moan. Bingo. 

He’s unbuttoned his shirt now - or maybe it was you. Fuck, either way you couldn’t tear your eyes off of his pretty washboard abs. Curving and dipping like he was sculpted meticulously. 

And that’s all it takes for your already-dripping cunt to grow impossibly wetter, and he could feel it leaking through those flimsy cotton shorts of yours. Forming a messy sheen right at that damp spot of precum on his pants.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, my love.” Nanami murmurs, swiping a thumb down that sopping wet slit of yours through your shorts. Just marveling at the way that simple touch makes another wave of your sweet sweet juices bead through the fabric. “Hah, absolutely dripping. This all f’me?”

At your half-delirious nod, he flashes you a smile so handsome that it only makes you squirm more impatiently. “How sweet.” Giving your nose a chaste peck, “So good to me. So needy.”

“You’re the same, though.” you accuse, hotly.

And it’s true - Nanami couldn’t deny the aching need of his cock, the way he all but moans in response, “Then tell me- hngh tell me what you want. I’ll give you- anything-” Managing to get out through hot, sloppy kisses planted right on your wobbly lips, “-anything.”

But, ah, you always did manage to surprise him. And instead of an answer, you’re getting right down on your knees in front of him like you did not too long ago - though, this time, you’re reaching up to fumble with his belt. 

“Wan’ taste you.” you huff when his expensive notches prove too stubborn. “Wan’ feel you in my mouth so bad, Ken.” 

“Oh yeah?” he chuckles darkly, easily loosening his belt and his pants along with it. Rock-hard cock sensitive and just smearing a pool of precum where his fat head springs up to hit your lips. Such a pretty shade of gloss. Nanami laces his hand on your scalp to guide you forwards, slowly, “Then take it. Take it f’me, pretty.”

He was so pretty that you possibly couldn’t not - a delicate blushing red at his very tip, glistening and absolutely soaked in precum down the long path to his creamy base, his heavy balls. So girthy that it made your cunt clench in anticipation.

And then there’s no more talking. Hell, you barely get enough time to admire Nanami’s massive cock before he’s bullying it between your lips. Wetting his thick, angry tip with your saliva, just enough to eye down at the way your lips bulge so prettily around him. 

“Gonna hafta open w-wider if you wanna take me, pretty. Open hah- yeah jus’ like that.” He’s reeling your head back, all the way till you were just kissing at his thick, angry tip. “Now spit on it, my love.”

Despite being the one to say it, Nanami’s mouth drops into a fucked-out little oh! of disbelief when you’re readily decorating his swollen length with a steady stream of spit. Your soft palms smearing the saliva along his length. 

You’re slurring, “After all, I still haven’t found my wallet, right?”

And oh he doesn’t even have to ask for what comes next - doesn’t even have to make a noise. 

Immediately, you take him in inch by fucking inch. The deliciously salty twang taking over your senses, and he’s so hot and heavy over your tongue. Veins pulsing in a dizzyingly throb! throb! throb! against the roof of your mouth.

“Are you- are you sure you can-” You shut up his doubts by rubbing your hot tongue along every sensitive ridge you could reach. Bobbing your head at a quick, ruthless little pace to milk his pretty cock for all he’s worth. 

Nanami’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Was this what heaven felt like? 

“F-fuuuck, oh you-” his words are catching in his throat with each flick of the tip of your tongue against his sensitive slit. Just the way he liked it. “-ngh guess that sharp mouth of yours wasn’t just hah- good for teasing, huh?”

He’s running his mouth a mile a minute - the complete opposite of the reserved man that’d come knocking on your door. Hips grinding up into your warm tongue mindlessly, slow. Languid - like he didn’t even realize what he was doing. “Oh you feel so heavenly- so fuckin’ good it should be illegal.”

You can’t help but bat your teary eyes up at him in response, blinking away the lustful haze to drink in that utterly obscene sight above you. Nanami’s neat, blond hair uncharacteristically disheveled, stray strands sticking to his furrowed brow. Only deepening with each wrecked sigh that leaves his plump lips every time his abs flex with the movement of his fat head hitting the gummy back of your throat. 

He looks so pretty it makes you moan. 

Those electric vibrations going all the way down that wet divot on the tip of Nanami’s painfully hard cock to his heavy balls. 

“Oh shit- shit shit shit feels too good.” his words are slurring together, drunk off the way you gag around him. “Don’t do that don’t-” This only makes you drag your sloppy mouth down him deeper, syrupy moans sticking to

him all the while. 

“Fuck!” Nanami shudders. And he’s pulling you down - hard - barely letting you get a feverish little breath out until your nose is hitting the neat patch of blond at his base. Rubbing up against his toned pelvis. 

Still moving in deep, relentless thrusts inside your gummy cavern. “S’real fuckin’ hard to treat you as nice as I want when you act like that, my love.”

And, of course, the only response he gets are your pathetic, wet gurgles as you take him in faster. Cheeks hollowing to massaging his every sweet spot. Your jaw grinding against his twitching balls with each smack of his hypnotized hips against your mouth, fucking into you the way he wished he could do with your cunt. Frenzied. Sloppy. 

Yeah, this was heaven alright - but you were the fuckin’ devil. 

Of course, you wanted him to treat you like such a slut - so he does. 

Just dragging your stubborn mouth off of his twitching cock, Nanami only reaches down to place an accomplished peck on the pout of your mouth before hoisting you onto the counter. “What? You think I’d really ngh- cum before my darling girl?”

He’s groaning into your mouth, licking at the seam of your candied lips as two strong arms of his spread your legs so far apart it burned. “F-fuck, Ken-”

“Aw look. You’ve got another slutty pair, huh?” he gestures down at the drenched scrap of fabric you so proudly called “panties.” Sliding a thumb underneath to glide it underneath your puffy pussy lips. He’s echoing your sentiment from before, “Said you can’t find your hah- wallet, right?” Well, ya better start makin’ up for that now.”

In all of two seconds, Nanami’s hooking two fingers over your underwear - pulling - ripping. He was right -  Nanami takes a moment to admire your dripping cunt, glistening and needy for him - he could rip those panties right off of you. 

With just one hand pinning you to the cool marble of your counter, the other thumbing open your puffy folds, he’s giving all of your pussy a hot, open-mouthed kiss. 

“Mmm fuck-” he spits into your sloppy hole. Once. Twice. Letting it form a saturated little pool of your juices, before surging back nose-deep with a pained grunt. Again. And again. And again and again- “Jus’ as sweet- as sugary sweet ngh-”

Nanami didn’t think Higuruma knew about this little treasure trove when describing you - though, if he did, then he was well and fully intent on tongue-fucking every little thought out of him right now. 

“Hngh! Shit-” you’re keening when his greedy tongue laps up every bit of your syrupy sweet slick. Alternating - methodically, indecisively - between rolling over your throbbing clit and just dipping into your awaiting entrance. “It feels so- so good, Ken.”

“Yeah that’s right.” he gasps, wrapping those pretty pink lips of his to suck on your clit. Harsh. “Say my name- no, louder. Louder.” 

It’s all you can do to not just scream out his name without your neighbors filing a noise complaint. Dragging your sopping pussy all over his mouth - glistening and obscene right down the bottom half of his face all the way up to smear against his clear glasses. 

Such obscene squelches ring through your kitchen as Nanami keeps making out so messily with your sensitive nub. Ringing in your fucked-out brain, so obscene, so addictive that you barely even register the thick fingers dipping their way around your hole. 

You jolt when the cool metal of his glasses kiss your skin, “O-oh Ken what-” 

“Shhh shhh, darling.” he soothes. The tip of his manicured index circling around your elastic muscle. Hypnotic. “M’gonna take care of you. Gonna take such good-” With this, he’s bullying his fingers inside, “-care of you.”

Tears crinkle at the corners of your eyes at the sheer stimulation. Because for how sweet Nanami was talking you through this, he was absolutely ruthless on your cunt. Not half the man he was this morning - animalistic. Feral, even.

His sharp jaw grinding against your skin, fingers almost a blur with how depraved they were pumping in and out of you. Massaging every hidden corner of your plushy walls, yet you get the feeling that they were calculated. Nanami’s darkened eyes drinking in every whimper and twitch of your body over the glasses inching dangerously downwards. Searching, waiting for that one-

“Ngh!” You worry you’d have fallen off the counter if it wasn’t for Nanami holding you down. Body jolting at sudden electricity running through your veins, “Oh- fuck fuck fuck. Oh my god Ken, there. Right there–”

But before the sentence has even left your heavy lips, he’s hitting your g-spot once more. Easily finding the bullseye that has you bucking and arching into his mouth like such a slut. 

And this time - Nanami lets you use his mouth all you want. The fingers splayed out to pin you down moves to toy with your puffy clit. Rolling between his fingers while he hisses out syrupy sweet praises, “Shit, never liked m’name that much- ngh- but it sounds so pretty on your lips. So sweet. So- oh-” 

The sight of your cunt just beading with need has him kissing it once more. All over your sensitive nub, your ravaged hole, hell, even down to the mess of slick dripping down at your thighs. Faster. Sloppier. No rhythm or rhyme anymore. 

“M’so close.” you whine, weaving your fingers through his blond hair to help ride his face easier. Jolting with each purposeful flick of his tongue. “Gonna cum, Ken.”

“Cum then.” he answers, simply, grinning a guiltily glossy grin, “You’ve got a lot to make up for, right?”

And then you do - stars behind your eyes and that little nickname you’d made Nanami in your mouth. Over and over while he tonguefucks you through your high. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck–” you whine, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks eat time he swiped at your sensitive spots, dragging it out longer. Until your soft whimpers were drowning out the squelches from below. Until you were blinking your spotty vision back. Until you were squirming your hips higher up the counter to pull away from Nanami’s unforgiving tactics. “M’too sensitive- Nana-”

He tuts, interrupting your orgasm-drunk babbles, “Tha’s not what you call me.” Pulling away just enough to hum, “All I did was eat this pretty cunt out, darling n’ you already forgot my name?”

You shiver - both at his mean little tone and the absolutely sinful sight between your shaky thighs. Nanami’s lips plump and irritated, eyes foggy - glasses even more so with all the sloppy dredges of spit and your slick.

Shit, you think he’s never looked prettier. 

“Is that so?”

It’s all you hear before you’re hit with his glasses being gently placed onto your nose bridge - followed shortly by the realization that oh, you said that out loud. But Nanami basks in your sudden shyness, giving your lips a chaste, lingering peck. “You dirtied my glasses, y’know. Now you have to make up for that on top of the rent.”

And by the feeling of his thick tip kissing at your pussy lips, you had a very good idea about how you’d be making up for it. Making a mess. Sliding the curve of his head up and down. Up and down up and down up and-

“B-but don’t forget.” you manage to grit out by the time he’s nudging his divot against your clit. “You have to make- hah- make up for-” 

In a fluid motion, you’re reaching your fingers to dig into the irresistible tan skin at his hips, all hard muscle and the thick fabric of where he’d pulled his pants down just enough. You press down on his bulging back pocket, smirk growing at the familiar flash of hot pink you could spy, “-my panties.”

The moment the obscene little accusation leaves your lips, you give a soft tug forwards. Nanami’s towering body being pulled easily to push his weeping tip past your puffy folds. 

“F-fuck.” he’s throwing his head back at the feeling. “You hngh- saw, huh?”

Oh, if he hadn’t been imagining this the moment he’d stepped inside your apartment then Nanami thinks he might’ve just passed out right then and there. 

Because you were so warm, so addictive wrapped around his cock - even when he’s barely even in. That he just has to keep going - after all, it’s for the rent, right?

It’s what he likes to think.

It’s what he whispers - over and over into your open mouth as he bullies his thick cock past your gummy entrance. Letting your plush walls suck the ever-loving soul out of him with each lazy, lingering grind just to fit himself inside. 

“O-oh! Shit-” your nails leave jagged red marks down Nanami’s broad shoulders when he stuffs you full. Desperate. “Y-you’re so big, Ken–” 

At this, you feel Nanami’s girth grow even wider, stretching your walls until it felt like he was molding your poor pussy to the shape. Just reaching into your lungs. You squeal, “Wait- you got bigger- what-”

“I know I know, You got it, my love.” he’s soothing your cries with sugary kisses at the corners of your mouth. Drawing slow, methodical circles on your clit in time with his experimental thrusts. “You got it. You can take it. Shhh shh-” He’s drinking in your cute mewls, cupping your pretty face with his free hand, “You’ll take it right? All of it, like my good girl? You’ve gotta make up for it, right?” At your delirious nod, “Words, pretty.”

“Yes, please.” You buck your hips in a sultry tandem matching his, the cool frame of his glasses still kissing at your skin. “M’gonna take it all like your good girl, Ken.”

Shit, he can feel himself growing even bigger just halfway into you, “Then-” Angling your teary face down to watch the mess down below. The way your greedy cunt was trying to milk each and every inch of him like it was delicious. “-look.”

You can’t tear your eyes away as he delves into you so filthy. 

Not waiting for your pathetic whines about him being “too big” - no, Nanami’s only pulling you back from escaping like some sextoy - his favorite one. Still toying sweetly with your clit while he pushes against that feeble ring of resistance. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

“Ken!” you’re yelping out when he finally bottoms out. Your swollen folds meeting his drenched hilt, blond tufts of hair brushing up against your pelvis. Sighing, ”Finally.”

“Finally?” he’s dragging out his words with an already-crooked, pussydrunk grin. Eyes wild - bewildered almost at how well you were taking him. “S-seriously? Did you say ngh- ‘finally’, my girl?” Each word has him tapping more strength behind those thrusts, faster. Harder. Spitting out so contendly, “Finally- hah. Such a slut f’me, hm?”

He’s plunging into you like such an animal right now, so harsh that it was almost difficult to pull back. To dare subject himself to not be buried inside your dripping cunt for even a split-second. 

In response, you lick a long stripe up the sensitive area of his neck, splaying out a hand to squeeze Nanami’s pec - and the rapid heartbeat you felt beneath it. “You’re not- ngh- any better.”

“I know.” Nanami leers, unabashedly kneading at your sore tits now. Fucking you harder and harder into the counter. Connecting his sweaty forehead with yours to look you right in the eyes as he gruffs, “I’ve been thinking about fucking this pretty cunt as soon as you opened that door, y’know.”

You feel his cock twitch wildly at the confession, dragging against your gummy walls with his tip. Hitting - oh-so-expertly - that one sensitive honeypot of nerves. Which makes Nanami’s mouth fall slack with what a treasure you were. 

“Y-you’re such a-” you’re moans are syrupy and slurring together now. Holding onto the larger man for dear life, “such a pervert, Ken.”

Shit, you were squeezing around him so hard that it was almost impossible to pull out. Abs straining to keep up the loud staccato of skin-against-skin, and Nanami’s long, jagged rams inside your wet heaven.

Nanami’s nosing down your pulse, letting his hot tongue loll out to catch the salty drops of your tears, “Mhm, only for hngh- you. Because you’re my girl now, aren’t ya?”

So easy for him to trawl out those addictive moans with each drag of the upwards curve of his fat cock. Thick tip hitting your g-spot, your cervix - as if he was branding his name into your pretty pussy from the inside. Sloppy. 

Leaving a bruising little Kento. With his erratic fingers pinching and rolling your clit at the same feverish tempo of his cock bullying inside your cunt - Kento. With his heavy balls smacking against your ass, sending jolts of white-hot pleasure all the way up to his sensitive slit, rubbing up against your succubus walls - Kento. With the way your heels were now digging into those dimples at the bottom of his spine, sure to leave marks with the way you were pulling him impossibly closer. So needy - Kento.

Only getting sloppier. The only thing in your mind right now - Kento Kento Kento-

So, really, it makes sense when that’s the only thing you’re capable of getting out once you cum. It sneaks up on you at first, and then all at once - and before you know it, you’re cumming so desperately all over Nanami’s relentless cock. 

Over and over.

Your thighs spasming, such a slutty ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth with each wave of pleasure he’s forcing out of you by targeting your ravaged g-spot. Only a few more of those sloppy, mean thrusts left in the man himself before Nanami’s spilling into your greedy cunt. 

Painting your gummy walls white with each painful squeeze of his balls, he’s still thrusting - as if on instinct. Shoving his seed deeper and deeper down your cum-filled hole until he’s sure it’s overfilled. 

By god were you a vision, he’s thinking deliriously. Tears pooling at your eyes, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth, throat to shoot to do anything but whimper when he keeps going in and out in and out in and-

And if he angled his head just right, he could see the hot globs of cum that take to trickling out from your puffy folds, pooling at a mouthwateringly creamy base around his hilt.

“Ah,” Nanami wastes no time squeezing his index into your already-bulging entrance, pumping the cum slobbering out back in. “Better- hah- better not waste any-” He could barely speak right now, cumming harder than he has in his whole life - in fact, his overworked cock was still shooting out wispy spurts of his seed. Like he couldn’t stop. “-after all, y’haven’t made up for all the overdue rent yet, my love.”

A/N. Concept inspired by this NSFW audio by IchigekiVA that my friend sent me <3

Plagiarism of work not authorized.

[silkentine]

Me when they are the sisters ever: 😭😭😭 They came out soooo freaking well. I won’t lie, they took me a thousand years to finish but through the constant support from all of my buds (and my latent bisexuality), we made it 😤

Hopefully you guys know the deal by now: design choices, easter eggs, and (NEW!) closeup shots below the read more. ⬇️

I wanted Ace to have a very down-to-earth vibe and looked at Aussie beach-girls, coastal cowgirls, and vaqueras for reference. (IDK, I’ve just always envisioned Ace as part-Australian🌺 and Mexican 🏴‍☠️) Her clothing choices are mostly natural or utilitarian materials like the painted wooden beads on her top, her woven fabric and leather belts, and her denim jumpsuit. I gave her bikini top a zen-garden kind of feel because I read the first Ace’s Story Novel and I loved how idyllic and peaceful they made Sixis Island sound so I wanted to invoke that in some way.

Speaking of her painted wooden beads, they hang off the back of her top and represent her connection to Sabo and Luffy. They watch her back once she sets sail. She only wears one red glass bead earring because the other one got ripped out of her ear when a child, leaving her earlobe torn (don’t think about it too much 😢). Also, YES! she does wear a hibiscus flower just like Rouge (because I hate you and I want to make you cry, muhwahahahaha).

Also, I really wanted her to have super textured curly hair that licks behind her like flames. I am always considering whether or not a character should have long hair or not because I don’t want it to be a hindrance if they’re in a fight (or if they ARE a fighter with long hair, how to they avoid an enemy making use of that?). Ace is, of course, a Logia-type Devil Fruit User so I think she wouldn’t have trouble with people grabbing it LOL I get the feeling that she doesn’t take very good care of it even though it looks amazing. Like you’d think it would be soft and bouncy just by looking at it but if you ever get the chance to run your fingers through it, it’s a total rat’s nest and there’s sand and food all up in it. She still falls asleep while eating 😂 but she tries her best to only do it around people she can trust (woman moment 😔).

Honestly, her design is not that different from Ace’s canon look. It feels really vital to Ace’s character to have a lot of skin showing. And he’s always hanging all over himself with his hips all cocked like the weight of the world is too much to stand up straight. It is certainly not my OWN preference to make her an absolute smoke show. That’s just the character, okay? (I’m partially lying and the proof is that I turned the emblem on Ace’s hat strap into a sternum tattoo for no other reason than that it is sexy af.)

Here are some closeups of Ace:

Now for Sabo, I’ve made her very girly. I tried putting her in pants or something more militant but she told me that she’d wear the big poofy sleeves and hiked-up ruffled skirt. I think Sabo has always had a strong grasp on his fashion sense and individual flair and I truly believe that his personal style is one of the major influences for the rest of the Revolutionary Army resulting in the very flashy, queer, steampunk aesthetic (aside from Dragon’s plain-ass cloak). So of course I had to implement her nonconformist look when reimagining her as a woman and dress her up to the nines.

I’ve given her very ornate jewelry that is there to tell a story, even if she herself doesn’t know it. I like to think she picks up stuff from her travels that resonate with her, such as a damaged set of earrings with one stone missing or red cup-shaped shells featuring three nestled pearls. Another accessory that cannot go unmentioned is her dragon claw hat pin that keeps her top hat resting on top of her hair (and is definitely used as a weapon when the situation simply doesn’t call for trusty metal pipe). She also has a veil that obscures her prominent facial scar. I imagine she’s not very keen on the reminder of the incident from her childhood that took away her memories. I also kept her chipped toothed because 1) it’s fucking adorable and 2) is a visual reminder that she no longer aligns herself with the nobility who would have gotten such a thing fixed. She is so poised in almost every outward facet of her life from her dignified role as the Chief of Staff to the elegant materials in her clothing that it can be easy to forget she was also a rough and tumble forest dweller. Every time Koala remembers this, he lets out the biggest sigh.

Her hair is inspired by Gibson Girls and Elizabeth Swann from the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie. I wanted it to be fussy and tidy but fall apart when she’s in moments of distress. For example, when she remembers her sisters, her hair starts to look like Ace’s flaming mane. I’m so in love with her, I think she looks like an adorable little porcelain doll that would fuck you up. I made an effort to keep her eyes a little bit manic. I get lost in her steely black orbs (and also Ace’s warm brown ones, but we’re talking about Sabo rn).

Here are her close-ups:

Plot notes for this AU:

For this series of character designs, I wanted the expressions and outfits to be aligned with the canon plot but I don’t know if I have the heart to kill fem!Ace in my AU. I’m too attached and ASL has suffered enough!!!!! But Ace’s death is also a major defining moment for Luffy so it feels disingenuous to completely avoid it. Also a huge aspect of Sabo’s character is carrying on Ace’s will and I have so many thoughts about how the Dressrosa Colosseum scene would play out if they were all women. Oh well, I’ll cross that tragic bridge when I get to it. I’m definitely going to draw some Modern AU Girl Piece ASL though. They deserve to hang out with no stakes 😭 They are sisters!!!

Check out the tag “girl piece” on my blog for my other One Piece genderbends! 🥰

[4-the-l0ve-0f-art]

“The Captain’s beloved…wait, what?!”

Capitano x Gender Neutral Reader one shot

Work count: 2.2k

Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship

Rating: General Audiences

Trigger Warnings: none

Summary: The fatui discover that their Captain does, in fact, have a life outside of work and gossip between the ranks ensues. (Cue silly fatui shenanigans)

Ao3 Link

Capitano, the Fatui’s first lord and harbinger, contrary to popular belief, was respected and admired by his platoons rather than feared. There was a widespread misunderstanding both in and outside the organization that the Captain was a harsh and dangerous leader due to his mysterious nature. However, the people who worked under him knew better as they had grown to admire him the more they interacted with him.

He held himself with pride and treated his soldiers the same way he wanted to be treated: with respect and dignity. And in return, they learned the depths of this man’s strategic genius and strength. His strength was unmatched in combat and led his people well with good decision making and training. They could only hope to be as good as him in his various fields of expertise.

He was strict, and quick to discipline unruly fatuus, yes, but that did not stop others under his command from admiring him. And to emphasize this even more, it was clear that his fellow harbingers and even the Tsarista respected him, whether their goals and morals aligned with his or not. However, this made the people around him curious about aspects related to him outside of his work and title. He was a revered public figure and people were naturally curious about his personal life.

This is where you came in. You, his one and only beloved, the only person who held his whole heart in your hands. Not many people knew of this, but the Captain was a gentle man at his core, and you had somehow managed to uncover all of his being and see him fully as himself, without his title, without his strength. You knew this man inside and out, just as he had come to know you. It was a mutual love, one which even he did not know he was capable of feeling, and that made him all the more enamored with you.

This, however, people did not know. So you can imagine the surprise on their faces when you, an ordinary civilian, came to the Zapalyarny Palace and asked for directions to the Captain’s office. The clerk at the desk looked at you blankly, as if she were staring at an anomaly. This prompted you to try and explain yourself.

“..I’m here to drop off his lunch. So, if you don’t mind..?” You asked.

No response. The blank stare continued.

You already knew that you looked out of place in this grand palace with no Fatui uniform or mask on. But you were determined to make sure your beloved got his lunch, which you had specifically decided to make for him that day as a special treat for how hard he had been working while preparing for a business trip to Natlan.

“Excuse me..?” You said a little louder this time. That seemed to snap her back to reality.

“You cannot enter this place, only authorized personnel are allowed inside. If you’d like to meet our lord, please book your appointment accordingly.” She replied on autopilot, as if she’d rehearsed the same sentence multiple times.

“I’m sorry, I know you have your duties, but I’m here just to drop off his lunch. You can check with him yourself if you’d like..”

“He’s busy at the moment, please leave your package here and we will deliver it to him.” She replied. It seemed like you were being studied like a suspicious person who was attempting to sneak in.

Fair enough.. you thought. I was hoping I would get to spend a few minutes with him and see how he was holding up at work but that can wait till he’s home. And she’s not wrong, I did drop by without notice, so it makes sense for them to be suspicious.

Fatui soldiers passing by had also been glancing at the ongoing conversation at the front desk, eyeing the lunch box wrapped in patterned cloth in your hands with raised eyebrows. You decided to leave the food there, getting one last word in before leaving.

“If you could, please make sure it reaches him soon. It’s his favorite meal and I would prefer it didn’t go cold before he ate it.”

And then everyone watched as your ordinary self left, unaware of the number of eyes on you.

…

A pyroslinger skirmisher stationed near the entrance asked dumbfoundedly, “Did..did they just say that was the Captain’s favorite meal? Our lord harbinger?”

A cryogunner skirmisher who had also watched the whole thing go down as he clocked in asked another question right after, in the same state of confusion as the previous fatuus. “..Has anyone seen them around before? They don’t look like someone who would be seen standing next to Lord Capitano.”

And as the just as confused clerk left the scene towards his office with your goods in hand, excited chatter filled the halls.

Chaos would be the right word for it. You had left chaos in your wake with a simple visit to his workplace.

…

That night, as you and Capitano settled in to relax in your shared home after a long day of work, you asked him how his lunch was.

“It was delicious, my love.” He replied, gently caressing your face with his hands while looking down at you through his mask. “It felt like a treat to have your home cooked meal at work. You didn’t have to, but thank you. It made my day.”

You smiled and took his hands in yours as you nuzzled into his touch. “I’m glad you liked it. I was going to give it to you myself but I couldn’t enter the place.”

“You should visit more often. I’ll let the security personnel know to let you enter so you can come and go as you like.” He paused, clearing his throat. “..Seeing you in the middle of a long day would bring me relief.”

You felt slightly flushed at his straightforward choice of words. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you being so..open with me. But I like it, of course. I would like that as long as I’m not disturbing you at work.”

Capitano chuckled. It was like the angels decided to bless you today, really. “I will always make time for you, my love. Just as you do for me.”

You beamed. “Okay, okay, let’s get some sleep now, Mr. Loverman. We still have work tomorrow in case you’re forgetting.”

A kiss on the forehead and the rustling of sheets was all you heard before you were whisked away to dreamland.

…

Unbeknownst to you and Capitano, however, word about you spread like wildfire across the next few days between the excited fatui soldiers. Some from even the different departments under the other harbingers might’ve heard. The person who looked like a civilian, dropping lunch packed in pretty cloth for their Lord did not go unnoticed.

This was the only time someone unrelated to work had been seen asking for their Captain and questions about your relation to him were on the tip of everyone’s tongue during break times.

Two fatuus gossiped as they watched the Captain spar in training with his fellow soldiers, admiration evident in their eyes.

“Someone dropped off lunch for him? I thought he would be too busy having meals with high rankers from across Teyvat.”

And after a short pause the other replied, “Dude, hold on, does he even eat? I thought he was superhuman or something.”

“I know you’re dumb, but I didn’t know you were that dumb, my guy.”

“Hey! Just saying… anyway, are we even sure the people weren’t hallucinating when they saw the person drop lunch off for him?”

“I heard it was his favorite meal, freshly cooked, apparently. Who knows, man? Maybe it was a fan or something. Our lord does have a pretty big following, y’know.” The fatuus stated proudly.

Their lively chatter continued until they were called back into training.

…

A few days later, as soon as you found the time, you decided to visit Capitano at work with yet another home cooked meal. You wanted to make most of your time with him before he traveled to Natlan and having meals together would be a good way to wind down a little.

You entered the palace yet again, determined to meet him this time. It should be fine, right? He did say he would inform them..

And as you had hoped so, he did, in fact, inform them. As soon as the same clerk from before saw you, it seemed like her eyes were bulging out of her sockets. All you had to do was reach the desk and she confirmed your name and led you to the training grounds, where he was currently working. It seemed like some sort of training session was in the works, with all kinds of combat taking place between the soldiers in the distance.

Before you could ask her if you were even allowed to enter this place, she bowed and hurried back in the direction of the front desk. The strange behavior didn’t go unnoticed by you but now you had to find your way to Capitano across the opposite side of the field. Since you were here at last, why not just see things through?

The middle of the field was the most densely occupied with various people fighting in different groups, while what you recognised as skirmishers were practicing their aim at dummy targets on the right side. The soldiers were hard at work even in the harsh everlasting winter of Snezhnaya. The left side of the field, however, seemed less crowded compared to the rest as people seemed to be setting up their gear or resting. Your Captain, opposite to you across the field, was busy conversing with a group of soldiers who seemed to be listening to him attentively.

You decided your best option was to take the left side. It would be easier to walk through the calm atmosphere over there.

As you made your way through the crowd, people started to notice you. They were pretty intimidating with their weapons and muscled bodies at display so you decided to be extra careful to not bump into anyone and quickly made your way across, and as you got closer, Capitano’s voice became clear.

“The heat in Natlan will be unbearable. You will be stationed in the wild all day, so make sure you have the appropriate supplies to get you through the day. It is of the utmost importance that...what, what is it? Why are you all staring at me like that?”

The group’s attention shifted from him to you, as you stood behind him and tapped his shoulder.

“Capitano, do you have a moment..?” You asked as he turned around, his armor clinking from the movement.

“Oh, my love!” He exclaimed in a soft voice. “What brings you here? Hold on, let's get you back inside. You’ll catch a cold here.”

The group (and everyone nearby) watched in complete awe as his demeanor from before completely switched from authoritative to somewhat… joyfull? Was Lord Capitano being affectionate?

“I brought you lunch, but I can leave it in your office if you’re busy right now.” You said hurriedly, not wanting to keep him busy.

“No, that won’t do, my love.” He took the package from you and placed his hand on your back. “Eat with me inside.”

He then turned back to the group, who jolted straight up at his sudden change. “Finish the supply preparations once you’re done training. All of you are dismissed.”

“Y-yes, my lord!” They replied in unison and bowed. And yet again, they watched in awe as he guided you back inside the palace, ever so gently, one hand on your back and the other carrying a box wrapped up in a floral patterned cloth. A stark contrast to his all black and blue outfit.

…

As soon as both of you were out of sight, chaos erupted yet again, more loudly this time, with multiple voices talking over the other.

“”My love?” Did he just call them “my love?” Did I hear that right?!”

“What was that? What did we just witness?”

“That was so romantic, holy shit! Was that the same person we take orders from everyday? What the hell?!”

“DID THE LORD HARBINGER JUST… GET VISITED BY THEIR SPOUSE?”

“I thought that ring on his finger was for fashion…”

And that is how they found out that their beloved Captain, who seemed to have no soul outside of his work, was a married man with a loving spouse.

This proceeded to be the hottest gossip in the Fatui for the rest of the month, until they discover more about you from another future visit.

…

BONUS:

Sitting in the privacy of his office, you enjoyed your meal together.

“..You seem to work with very strange people, Capitano.” You said to him.

“Do I? How so?” He asked before you fed him a bite.

“Hm.. actually, nevermind. It would be even stranger if they weren’t strange, considering they work with you.” You chuckled.

You enjoyed your time together and went back home, leaving your beloved in confusion from your conversation, and the sight of you fondly feeding him for him to think about for the rest of the day.

[tinystarbites]

accidents pt. II | Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops pt.II The Reckoning /j, this is basically just 10k words of porn with feelings yikes

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst (still Spencer feeling he isn't good enough 😔), EMOTIONSSS, Spencer STILL loves you so much, he gets a hug, and so much more!, talk about sex, detailed asking for CONSENT (be safe people), sex (piv), some frottage, uhhh what else, dirty talk, some dom/sub understones (sub!Spencer ofc), little bit allusion to subspace, Spencer discovers so many kinks in this awww we're so proud of you bby (mentioned kinks: praise kink, squint of liking being embarrassed, tiiny bit of a voyeristic thing), also I made him a virgin whoops so virgin!Spencer, proofread but prolly not perfect lol. Tell me if I'm missing any tags I am so tired

(also, Spencer will be bisexual in all of my Spencer fics because I am not a coward like the writers were and I will honour Spencer the way he was intended to)

HERE you can read pt. I, I do recommend it to have context and all but do whatever you want lmao I'm not your mother anyway have fun being completely wrecked like I was while writing this!! also thanks so so MUCH for 400 followers and almost 2k likes on the first part, you guys are the best and I hope you enjoy this fic as a thanks!!<333

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Spencer’s never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.

His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-

It’s you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he can’t just-

“Spencer?”

He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-

“Uh, yeah, just a second!”, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-

He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and –

“Okay, I’ll just…chill with that weird plant here.”

An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.

After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that it’s not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.

And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.

For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.

“Hi.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesn’t know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.

You’re not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelope’s.

“Hi to yourself”, you chuckle, “Can I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?”

Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.

“Only seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.”

He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you don’t hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.

Spencer’s breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his body’s response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is… a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious he’s trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isn’t enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.

The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what you’re thinking.

“Spencer”, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didn’t make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. “Do you hate me?”

“Wha-“, he sputters your name, “No- no! Of course, I don’t- whe- why would you think that?”

You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. “Because you’ve been acting hella weird these last few days and you won’t tell me whyyyy”, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else he’s just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.

“I haven’t been acting weird, really, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-

“Is it because you saw my nudes?”

Spencer almost breaks his neck with how fast he whips his head down to look at you again. A strangled noise escapes him without permission and what. What.

“Because, that would actually explain so much, especially the way you’ve been acting and really, that’s probably on me because I’ve always been telling myself to put them behind a password block but I somehow always manage to forget that because apparently I have only one braincell left that’s stuck spinning on the deep-fried version of Funky Town and well, I guess I’m glad it was you that found them and not someone else and-“

“What? No, no, I didn’t- What- that’s not- what-“, Spencer cuts off your rambling with a horrified, screeched version of a protest because how- how could you have guessed what’s going on with just one try? Is Spencer so- so absolutely besotted with you that he’s so obvious? Spencer is so very confused and overwhelmed with whatever the hell is going on, he kind of misses the slight twitching of your mouth.

“Come on, Spencer. I said it’s fine and basically my own fault. Uh- well, actually… sorry. Because, well, that’s probably not very work-appropriate… I will pay for your therapy session, just send me the bill.”

Spencer thought he’d reached the limits of confusion seconds ago but apparently, he hadn’t. What. What are you even saying?

“Therapy sessions?”

You just- ignore him.

“Oh, also, please don’t tell Hotch? He’ll be pissed, despite me literally just doing hot-girl shit, y’know-“

Oh, Spencer cannot take it anymore.

He says your name and, “Stop, please, please, just-“

You snap your mouth shut, pulling your lips between your teeth and Spencer definitely doesn’t miss the way you have to force your mouth to stay still this time.

“Are you- is this a joke?”, Spencer asks, frazzled and desperate and so confused he just wants to bury his head under the duvet and never come out again. Because if you don’t actually know but- are just joking around, oh Spencer is overwhelmed, alright.

Your expression changes into something panicked then. “No, no, Spencer, sorry. I’m- sorry. Of course I’m not joking, I’m so sorry. It’s just a little bit too easy to tease you. Sorry.” You actually look apologetic now, lips downturned and frowning slightly.

“Not joking- so… so, you know?”, there’s something big and anxious pressing inside of Spencer’s chest. The urge to hide away and never face daylight again intensifies tenfold. He’s flushing before he realizes, hands trembling and breathing a bit too fast to be considered normal. Oh god, you know, you actually know, you’re going to- you’re never going to speak with him again you are probably here to tell him how weird and- and-

You must’ve noticed the frenzy he is thinking himself into, because you reach out with one hand and gently nudge his thigh with one knuckle. “Spencer”, you say, voice serious and steady and not the slightest bit disgusted or harsh and it snaps him out of his anxiety spiral.

“I knew the second I walked back into that room after you basically fled the precinct. I am, really, genuinely, sorry for making you uncomfortable. Like, it wasn’t actually my intention for you to see them. And then, after I realized what… I just wanted to wait and see what you’d do, if you came to talk to me or, well…”

You sigh, the hand that nudged him ruffling through your hair.

“I didn’t handle this situation very well. I’m really sorry. So… “, you trail off, scrunching your nose in that adorable way of yours that makes Spencer want to kiss it until it scrunches even further because you’d laugh and try to fight him off.

“We can just- forget about this. Forget that it ever happened, or-“, you hesitate again.

Spencer feels suddenly breathless. Like he stands in front of a cliff face, seconds before taking the step to send himself careening towards something immeasurably great or devastatingly fatal.

“Or…?”, he breathes, voice small and unsure.

You meet his eyes again after what feels like hours. There’s something intense in them, burning, and it’s like an electric shock to Spencer’s system. He’d give anything for you to keep looking at him like that forever.

“Or”, your hand returns to his thigh, but this time you let your fingers travel along the shape of it and Spencer whimpers. The burning in your eyes intensifies and Spencer feels hot, suddenly, so hot he’s burning with it. “Or we can do something else.”

“Something else?”, Spencer basically croaks because his throat is so dry and it’s difficult for his body to function properly when you are touching him like that.

You hum in agreement. “Whatever you want. You can tell m-“

“You.”

You look a bit startled when he cuts you off with that one, desperate syllable. Startled but also endlessly amused and Spencer just- his mind is apparently turned off, what the-

You laugh quietly, and your eyes soften, and it does something to Spencer that leaves an ach-y feeling in his chest. Oh, he loves you so much he can’t take it.

“Sure. You can have me”, you say simply, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world for you to admit, “Tell me what exactly you want, because I’d give you the world if you asked.”

And suddenly there’s hot pressure behind Spencer’s eyes, at the back of his throat. You’re just- just- amazing and so lovely and so kind to him, no one has ever said something like that to him, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Spencer blinks up to the ceiling, desperately willing these stupid unwelcome tears away because crying about you treating him kindly is so on the bottom of the list of acting casual about this, so he rather feels than sees you sitting up next to him. Your hand slips from his legs and he feels the loss of your touch as if someone sucked the marrow from his bones. Before he can say something embarrassing like ‘please touch me again’ he feels your hand covering his. It fills him with a heady kind of courage.

“I want…”, Spencer starts, feeling entirely too uncomfortable with having to state his deepest and darkest desires. There’s the old familiar urge to start picking at his nails nagging at him, but you just interlace your fingers with his and start tracing random patterns into the skin there with your thumb. Spencer melts against you and tenses up at the same time because it’s just so- so nice. It feels so nice and Spencer never thought he’d ever get to have things like that with you but you’re here. You’re here, with him, and basically offering Spencer the entire world on a silver platter but it’s still so so unfathomably difficult just saying what he so badly wants.

“You want…?”, you hum slightly, voice soft and so tender as you continue painting patterns on his skin and Spencer would literally die for you. And that’s the entire problem. Spencer doesn’t know if you’d do the same. Well. Maybe not die die for him but. He can’t just sleep with you, and it not meaning anything to you. It would kill him. It would kill him, if after you give him tenderness and pleasure and acceptance in a way he’s never dreamed of receiving, you would go back to normal. Always politely distanced, close, but never close enough and it already twists his chest just thinking of that possibility.

“I just-“, he tries again, but when the words are stuck in his throat, sticky molten sugar that tastes like bile and fear, he pulls out of your grip and buries his face in his hands. He’s so bad at this. He’s the worst. No wonder he’s never had- had something like Morgan has, one night stand after one night stand (not that he particularly wants that, god no, but just-) because Spencer is just so bad at spilling all of the things that plague his gut and keep his thoughts in overdrive at night. No wonder he’s never even had a girlfriend or boyfriend before.

“Hey, hey, Spencer”, he feels your hands cupping his own, still over his face. Not taking them away, but just – there. “It’s alright, penguin, we can always come back to this another time. I’ll wait.”

Spencer’s face crumples and his breath hitches a little because- penguin. That’s the frankly ridiculous nickname you’ve been using for him ever since he apparently once looked like one, with that white scarf and knee-length black coat he wore during one of your cases where a blizzard surprised not only the team, but also the unsub. Spencer, like most of you, wasn’t prepared and thus, had to make do with what the helpful officers provided them with. And well, Spencer drew the penguin stick it seemed.

It’s ridiculous but sweet and it always makes him feel so loved, loved by you, because it’s adorable and theirs and he just loves it irrationally much, okay? And also, penguins are just really fascinating because-

“Did you know that most penguins live monogamously? The Emperor penguin is actually one of the only ones that mate seasonally, they only have one mate per breeding season. But most others have a mate for life, like, like swans and bald eagles.”

Before Spencer even opened his mouth, he was aware of the fact he was going to ramble on about some unimportant stuff. It’s always like this, it always feels like a breath he’s been holding in for too long, like an itch somewhere in his weird brain that only stops when he opens his mouth and infodumps and he cannot stop it. No matter how consciously he is telling himself to cut it out or screaming at himself to shut the fuck up you weirdo, it’s unavoidable. As soon as his brain latches onto a statistic or a fact it is reminded of, it’s an unstoppable force.

Like now. He is kicking himself. Why, oh why can’t he ever be normal? He feels himself flushing bright red from embarrassment and shame and frustration. He can’t believe he is rambling about birds while- while whatever the hell you two are doing right now. While in the middle of a conversation that started out with you confronting him about him seeing your nudes, jesus christ.

Spencer is about to suffocate himself with a pillow when you let out a graceless snort.

It confuses Spencer so much he lowers his hands to look at you and- oh.

Your eyes are shining with something that looks so close to what he would call affection, and it makes him want to bawl his eyes out and at the same time, smile so hard there’ll be laugh lines on his cheeks for the rest of the week.

“Well, that fits perfectly then”, you say, and Spencer doesn’t understand.

“What do you mean?”

You smile just a little wider, a little more teasingly but in a nice way, in a kind way and it leaves Spencer’s chest blooming with warmth.

“If you’re my penguin, I’ll be your penguin.”

Youryouryouryouryour-

Spencer feels entirely braindead. Only the fact that you called him yours registers. Because yes. Yes. Spencer is so yours he’d gladly let you make every decision for him from now on in his life and yes. That’s not exactly a very normal thing to think. Or to want. Spencer doesn’t care. He’s never felt normal about you for a day in his life and he definitely won’t start now.

“You- you mean- like, as, as mates?”

You scrunch your nose in disgust. “If you want to call us that, I think I’ll take back my offer.”

It punches a giggle out of Spencer, sudden and kind of light-headed. He watches your face break into a wide grin.

“But you- you’d like that?” You’d like me?

You pull a face, sniffing in a nonchalant way, direct your face to your nails in fake disinterest.

“Sure. Whatever.”

And Spencer can’t help himself. He sobs out a laugh- laughs out a sob or, whatever that weird noise he makes is, because you’re so ridiculous and he loves you more than anything in the world.

You roll your eyes, fondly, shake your head slightly.

“Of course, Spencer. I’d like that very much because I like you a very unnormal amount. Literally. On my knees, crying, screaming etcetera”, you say just like that, smiling just like that.

Spencer feels like he’s dreaming. He must be. There’s no other explanation for it. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you could like him. You. You’re so, so lovely and amazing and you deserve everything good in this world and Spencer is just. Spencer.

“You- you like me? Me?”, Spencer can’t hide the incredulous tone that seeps into his questions because you like him?

There’s no traces of humour in your eyes anymore. Your eyes look painfully honest, face suddenly serious, and it steals Spencer’s breath away.

You lean closer to him again, grabbing his hands with yours. Your gaze bores itself into his, intense and steady and he can’t look away. “Spencer. I know it’s- I know life has been hard on you for way too long. And that leaves its marks on you. That’s fine. It’s human. But. You do not deserve any less love because of that, do you understand me? Of course I like you, what isn’t there to like? You’re kind and funny and sweet and just so- Spencer. You’re so lovable and it kills me to know that you don’t see how you are so worthy of being loved.”

Oh.

Oh.

You can’t just- can’t just say things like that and expect him to not cry a little. Can’t expect him to act completely nonchalant and cool about all of this when you say things like that to him. Are you trying to kill him? Because it sure does feel like that.

Spencer is so completely at a loss. He doesn’t know what to say to that- not to mention what to do. How do you always do this? How can you see straight to the hidden, bruised core of him, littered with all these ugly and bad things and. Just. Figure out what to say to strike him exactly there.

It should scare him, being known so deeply. It should, but it doesn’t because it’s you. You are warmth and acceptance like his favourite place in front of a fireplace, book in hand and rain gently knocking against windows. You are quiet mornings at work, you are soft rays of sunlight in his hair, you are gentle hands helping you up when you fall and bruise your knees. You are –

A touch to his cheek startles him. He opens his eyes – when did he close them? – to your fingers brushing some stray tears away, so softly as if he’s something precious, something to be held delicately. That thought sends new tears spilling down his cheek. He can’t believe this is affecting him so much, so completely he simultaneously feels like he is going to shatter and be stitched back together again.

He never knew he needed this so much.

“Sorry for making you cry, penguin. I didn’t think this discussion about my lack of nude etiquette would get this emotionally damaging”, you say, voice hushed in the big silence of the room, a small smile on your lips and eyes so kind.

Spencer snorts, despite himself. This has really been a very bizarre evening. He feels almost drunk on the weirdness of it all, on the rollercoaster that his emotions have ridden all evening. That’s probably why he does what he does next.  

“Neither did I, especially after you interrupted me while I wa-“

Spencer shuts his mouth so fast he clicks his teeth together, eyes wide and suddenly horrified. He- what-

Why?

Why can’t Spencer ever keep his big mouth shut? Is he completely and utterly insane?

There’re alarm bells going off somewhere in Spencer’s head and a concerning warmth settling deep in his stomach when your grin takes on a slightly devilish edge, one he knows all too well and. And. Oh. He’s in trouble. So much trouble. Why did he have to say that?

“After I interrupted you while?”, you prompt him, eyes electric and hot and oh god-

Spencer is so dumb. An idiot. Of the highest order. High IQ, where?

“Nothing”, he says, voice high-pitched and rushed and he curses himself and his ability to act everything else but nonchalant. He’d be the worst actor of all time.

“Spencer.”

The tone of your voice rearranges something in his neurons. He can feel himself sit up just that little bit straighter, can feel his mind buzz at the edges. He’s never felt like this before.

He loves it.

“Hmm?”, is all he gets out. Trouble, so much trouble.

Suddenly you’re standing up, away from him and Spencer wants to whine because you should stay there next to him, forever fixed to his side. He doesn’t have to despair long, because you take one of your knees and gently nudge his legs apart with it and okay. Okay. That definitely didn’t just send Spencer’s mind reeling. That wasn’t just totally the hottest thing that ever happened to him.

You slot yourself between his legs as if you own that space and. In his humble opinion, you do. You so do. Spencer is willing to give you a map of his entire body and a marker and tell you to please demarcate every part of him you want. He’d give it to you, no questions asked.

He is looking up at you, at your burning eyes that still hold something so soft in them that makes the lump in his throat bigger again. And by god, Spencer just needs to hear you say it again-

“You like me?”

You move closer to him, lifting one hand and placing it underneath his chin. Your thumb traces along his jaw and Spencer feels like he is going to burst into a million embarrassed pieces.

“Yes”, you say simply, but the way you say it. Spencer can’t help but shiver and exhale shakily. He feels so warm, everywhere. His skin burns where your fingers are touching him. He never wants this to stop.

“You- You want me?”

Your hand grips his face a little stronger, your other fingers splaying over and down his throat and there’s a high noise coming from somewhere and there’s goosebumps on his body everywhere and oh, wait- it’s him. The noise. Well, how embarrassing but. He doesn’t care. Nope. Not at all.

…Okay maybe a little. His face feels warm, suddenly, warmer than the rest of him and yes. He’s blushing, okay?

“Spencer”, the way you say his name it- god, “I want you. I said it before, but. I will give you anything. Tell me what you want, Spencer, and you will get it from me.”

Your eyes are so dark and your voice so low and Spencer actually whines and. He’s hard again, so hard, because he didn’t come before and now, he’s even more pent-up and his thoughts are a mess, but you haven’t even touched him more than this and he’s already so worked up from you just saying these things to him-

“I want you”, Spencer pants, currently finding no other English words in the dictionary of his mind. And well. Emily was right about him. IQ slashed to zero when pretty person do thing.

He watches you take a deep breath, as if to steady yourself, as if this whole thing is affecting you as much as it affects him but that’s- ridiculous. Impossible. Because. Have you seen yourself?

“I know that, Spencer. But what do you want from me? Do you want me to kiss you?”, you ask, face suddenly so close to his Spencer feels your breath fan over his skin, and he whimpers because yes he wants that wants that- “Do you want me to touch you more?”, your other hand grabs his side, gentle but just a little bit roughly and Spencer is suddenly vividly reminded of the fact how strong you are and he feels kind of lightheaded-

“Do you want me to fuck you, Spencer?”

Spencer is going to pass out. And die. And moan and say, “Please yes yes yes”. Maybe not in that particular order.

“Okay, angel, anything you want”, you say, smiling softly at him as if he’s the best thing in the world and angel. Angel. Angel.

Before he’s even started to process you calling him angel, he sees a glint in your eyes, that edge in your smile again and before he knows what’s happening, you’re kissing him.

You’re kissing him and it’s- everything.

Your mouth is soft against his, and Spencer’s insides twist and flutter and his brain is kind of lagging behind, but he wants to be closerclosercloser-

It’s so good Spencer completely blanks on everything. There’s nothing in his mind except the feel of your lips moving against his. There’s no insecurity, no embarrassment tainting this moment even though this is literally like, only the sixth kiss or so of Spencer’s life and he has no idea what he is doing. But it’s so good.

A noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper escapes him when you lick into his mouth and Spencer’s soul almost leaves his body. He feels you shudder where you are pressed together, chest to chest.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe against his lips, in between wet, hot, kisses. You rub your nose against his, eyes closed.

“Hmm?”, he hums, his voice somewhere in Canada or wherever. His mouth is too busy smiling so wide it hurts, anyways. No time for articulating anything.

“You’re amazing, Spencer, amazing.”

And he wants to shake his head, no, because the only one amazing here is you. But it’s impossible to disagree with you when your mouth has returned to his in a way that is probably ruining him for anyone else. (He’s okay with that.)

You peck him on the lips once, twice more, before you press your lips against his jaw, exactly where you had your fingers before. Your hands are basically the only thing holding Spencer up in a sitting position, because he feels like molten chocolate in your hands. Muscles apparently forgetting to do their job and well. Who can blame them? Spencer has stopped thinking in proper sentences the moment you had walked into his life, so. Only a matter of time until you broke the rest of him as well.

You kiss his neck and Spencer gasps. It’s really been a hot minute - three years, one hundred, twenty-one days and twenty hours to be exact – the last time he made out with someone. Everything feels heightened on his heated skin, especially you opening your mouth against him and licking him oh god-

It almost feels like a reward when you gently bite at his skin next. Spencer almost screams.

“So good, so so good for me”, he hears you whisper into the skin of his neck and this time, Spencer does make a noise. Because yes. He wants that. Be good for you. That’s the only thing in his fuzzy mind that feels clear, that feels graspable.

He can see your pupils dilate. Can see the wicked lilt to your lips. “You like being good for me, don’t you, angel?”

ANGEL. Spencer is nodding his head before he knows he does so. “Yes, yes.”

“Fuck”, he hears you breathe against him and it’s strange, seeing the effect he has on you. Did really he do that? “I can’t believe how incredible you are, sweetheart.”

And you need to stop. If you keep calling Spencer these things- he’s pretty sure he won’t survive this. The team would need to find another genius to solve cases with. His cactus Greg would dry out and wilt and die. You and Penelope would need to find another victim to send confusing memes to.

“Did you like my pictures, Spencer?”, you then ask and that’s so not fair. You can’t just ask him that while he’s so utterly in your hands that he’s sure he’d tell you about every little fantasy he’s had about you ever if you asked.

Because Spencer wants to be good, feels that need so deeply in his bones, he nods frantically. “Yes, I- I liked them.”

At the same time the words leave his mouth, something feels wrong. There’s an ugly thing twisting in his stomach, so unpleasant it momentarily occludes the high-octane bliss-fuzz fogging up his mind.

You notice the shift in mood almost immediately. “What’s wrong, angel?”

And well. It’s just- that guilt. Of not saying anything to you about Spencer seeing your nudes, of just ogling you like that without your permission. That wasn’t very good of him. Actually, the opposite. He’s been bad and he hates that. Hates that so severely that there’s suddenly tears on his cheeks and oh no. That’s mortifying. Who cries before sex? Jesus Christ he’s such a virgin it is genuinely embarrassing.

“I’m- I’m sorry”, he stutters, a little bit hysterical, creating distance between you, arms slung around himself, “I should’ve, should’ve said something, I’m so so sorry, I’m the worst friend and now I’m- I’m crying, oh god, I’m so sorry-“

“Hey, hey hey whoa. Spencer, darling. Penguin. Look at me, please?”

But he shakes his head. He doesn’t deserve to look at you again. What was he even thinking? He was- so creepy and now- now-

Two warm hands grab his face and then Spencer is looking into your eyes again. He squeezes his own shut, but all that it does is send more tears spilling over his cheeks and he’s so fucking stupid-

“Baby, please.”

Spencer sobs.

Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. That’s the best thing he has ever heard but he doesn’t deserve these things.

“Of course you deserve it, silly goose”, you say and oh. He’s said that out loud.

Your thumbs brush over his cheeks and Spencer can’t not lean into your touch, despite everything. Because that’s just the way it always is. He’s drawn to your warmth and tenderness like a moon revolves around its planet.

“I thought we’d established that it was an accident? And if it was someone’s fault, then mine, because no password, remember?”

Spencer opens his eyes. The deep affection swimming in yours makes him sob again. He’s a mess. A crying, horny mess and Spencer definitely fucked this up. Why does Spencer always ruin the few good things in his life?

“Spencer, Spencer. Hey. It’s okay, I promise you. We wouldn’t be doing this, if it wasn’t, okay?”, you kiss his nose. “Do you want to lay down, maybe?”

He nods, not really thinking clearly. He moves up the bed, under the covers and curls up on his side. He waits for you to get up from the bed, for you to walk over to the door and leave. To say that this was a mistake, he was a mistake. To say that you take back everything you said to him in the last half hour.

He’s not just a little surprised to feel your weight dip the mattress, to feel even more sudden warmth engulf him when you spoon him from behind. You start tracing swirly patterns over the skin of his arm and he feels goosebumps spread all over his body.

Some minutes tick by, you still holding him, when his tears have finally dried up. He doesn’t remember crying so much in one day. Spencer feels miserable.

“Do you still like me?”, he asks, and yes, it’s pathetic and stupid but. He doesn’t care if you never have sex or if you’re not going to be more than his friend now. Because the thought of you not being in his life in any capacity anymore- just no.

He can feel you freeze and take in a sharp breath. “Wha- Spencer. Of course, I still like you. I don’t care what we do, I just want to be with you. In any way you’ll have me.”

You sound so understanding and sincere and actually confused about his fear as if you’d never even think of not liking him anymore and and and-

And something in him just- snaps. He wants you, needs you so much he’s going to die if he doesn’t-

He shuffles and turns in your arms until he’s face to face with you. You look at him, eyebrow raised in question but so beautiful and lovely and you still like him-

“I want you so bad”, he says and then he presses his lips against yours again.

You respond immediately, low moan escaping you and Spencer is greedy, he wants to hear more, feel more, feel everything with you.

He’s kissing you as if he’s going to die if he ever stopped, which, yes, he absolutely would, and you kiss him back as if you can’t live without him. It makes everything become hazy again, like before, and every bad feeling suddenly feels eons away. Like he’s underwater, floaty and relaxed. Safe, he feels safe in the way you kiss him and hold him. Like you always do.

You move your kisses to his neck, sucking and biting and Spencer is moaning and moaning and can’t stop and then suddenly, you’re gone, what –

“Spencer, Spencer, wait”, you pant, out of breath and flushed and he wants to cry again, “Sorry, sorry I just-“

You frame his face in your hands, a little bit roughly. “I’m so sorry for making this so hard, you’re being so good for me, but Spencer. Have you done this before?”

Somewhere in the fog that is his minds, Spencer finds his voice. It’s high and airy but he doesn’t care. “No, no, I haven’t.”

He watches you take a deep breath, feels your fingers digging into his skin a little bit more.

“Tell me. Do you want this, Spencer?”, your voice is shaking as if you need to keep yourself in check and Spencer can’t believe he’s getting to see you like this.

“Yes”, he says because he can’t ever want anything else, and, “Please make me feel good.”

You inhale sharply, your grip on his face bordering on painful. “Spencer, you’re incredible, amazing, the best- I’ll make you feel good, okay? I’ll make you feel so good because you deserve it.”

“Yes”, Spencer is not ashamed of how whiny he sounds. No. He’s owning it now. This is his thing now, okay? He’ll gladly be your pathetic wet cat, or whatever the term was that you sometimes use to describe him with. Whatever it even means.

“Good”, you grin, and then you push on his shoulder hard and he’s on his back. And you. Sitting on top of him, thighs on either side of him. Straddling him exactly where he wants you most and he exhales a needy ‘ah’. His hypothesis of liking being manhandled is… yet to be disproven. He’s discovering so many things about himself today.

Pleasure radiates in waves from where you’re passively giving pressure to his hard cock and yeah okay. This is good. Amazing. He’s never felt better. But-

“Please.”

“Please what, angel?”

“More?”

“More what?”

Your fingers trailing along his throat and jaw, down his chest and teasing ghost-like over his nipples are not really helpful in finding the right words to what he wants. You take pity on him.

“More touch?”

Spencer nods his head, so fast he almost gets dizzy because he’s at that point again where everything feels liquid, hazy, a little bit unreal. So, speaking is already quite the task.

You smile at him as if he just solved the most difficult equation. “Doing so good, Spencer. Incredible.”

He moans. Okay. Another hypothesis to add to his ever-growing list of scientific discoveries today.

“Where do you want touch, Spencer? Here?”, there’s hands in his hair. He shakes his head.

“Hmm… Here?”, fingers drawing circles on his chest and yes, that feels nice, so nice but he wants-

“Here?”, you ground your hips down and jesus-

“Yes!”, Spencer almost chokes on the sound. Pleasure shoots up his spine and he whimpers. “Please.”

You exhale shakily, looking flush. “Okay. Because you ask so nicely.” There’re two little taps on his lower stomach through his shirt. “Do you want to take this off first? Or no?”

The way you give him the chance to say no- the way you respect his autonomy so deeply-

It’s basic human decency, yes, but it’s also the hottest thing and Spencer feels so valued and understood and safe that he’s not even hesitating when he mutters a quiet yes.

You help him sit up because he’s currently not really heir over his body like he usually is. Help his head out of the shirt and thread his arms out. And then, he’s half naked in front of you and suddenly, the doubt and insecurity that’ve been so quiet so far are back with a vengeance.

The urge to cover himself is so big it’s impossible to stop his arms from wrapping around himself.

Spencer knows he’s not ugly. He’s not that bad looking actually. Can’t be too bad if Morgan keeps insisting on calling him pretty boy, even though Spencer sometimes still has the sneaking suspicion that he’s teasing him. But his friend wouldn’t be so cruel.

But other people like to be. Pipe-cleaner, leek, straw, big-eyes. He’s heard it all before. He has matured enough and grown into himself so that these things don’t bother him like they used to. But still. Still. These things are arduous to scrub from under his skin.

Your gaze on him though- he’s never felt so, cleaned from all of these mean words before. You look- you look reverent while mapping his skin and maybe that’s the reason why he lowers his arms again.

“Spencer. You’re a dream”, you say, almost in trance. Almost as if you’re hypnotized by him, and he’s flushing. But. Being watched so intently, being admired like that. He feels his dick give an indigent twitch against your clothed core. Another thing for the list.

“So impatient”, you tut and Spencer flushes more. He thinks he’s waited long enough for this. But he doesn’t say that. If you stopped now- he would definitely combust spontaneously.

You lean down, over him. Hands trailing along his sides like you did earlier, but without any clothes between your skin and his. It’s almost too much. And not enough. He feels electrified, where you touch him. His heart is hammering against his ribs so hard you must be able to feel it. His stomach is in knots, fluttery. He’s never felt more alive.

You connect your lips to his throat, placing kiss after kiss along the arched length of it. Follow the same path with your tongue and Spencer whines, curves up against you a little. Everything feels so good Spencer is floating in it.

You shift your attention to his collarbones next, kissing but then gently biting and Spencer feels the indents of your teeth all the way through to his back and he hopes, wants, you to sink them into him so deep they’ll leave marks. So that he carries the evidence of this with him for the rest of this case, so that there’s absolutely no more doubt to who he belongs to. That thought alone makes him whimper, makes him feel that tiny little bit more lost in you.

You start kissing along his chest, down his stomach. Open mouthed, wet kisses and Spencer shivers when the places you put them feel cold after because of your spit. The lower you get, the noisier he becomes and at one point, Spencer would’ve been embarrassed. Well, he kind of is, but he’s also so turned on that the embarrassment doesn’t feel as stifling like usual. Rather, in a weird way, it makes everything hotter, and he does not own enough brain capacity right now to decipher that. But he does add it to the list.

When your face is dangerously close to the waistband of his pyjama, Spencer tenses, holds his breath. Being shirtless is one thing, but… well.

“It’s okay, Spencer. We only do as much as you feel comfortable with”, you murmur, giving a small peck to the left of his belly button. You calmingly follow his sides with your hands, smiling at him with so much affection in your eyes that Spencer feels speechless, breathless, until the tension releases his muscles again and he melts into the sheets.

“’m just…”, he tries, he really tries so hard to tell you that he wants this more than anything he’s ever wanted but that he just feels… insecure.

You kiss his stomach again. “How about we only take off the pyjama? For now? If you want to take off your underwear too later, we can still do that.”

That… that’s actually a good idea. So, he nods.

“Words, angel.”

“Yes, yes. That’s- good.”

You look so proud of him. “You’re so good, Spencer. Perfect.”

He moans embarrassingly loud. He really should be more concerned about this. About how you are basically pulling him apart, thread by thread and he just lets you, willingly. How you know which threads to pull to reduce him to a sweaty mess in what felt like 0.2 seconds.

There’s a finger dipping beneath the waistband, moving back and forth along the newly exposed skin. Your eyes watch him intently, almost predator-like. A question is in there somewhere as well and Spencer nods again.

You help him lift his hips, help him pull down the pants. Spencer is kind of busy kicking his legs a little to shake them off completely but when he looks back and down himself to where you are hyper-focused on the outline of his cock through the thin fabric he blushes.

Even more when he notices the big, dark blue splotch in front of his underwear. That’s definitely never happened before. How embarrassing.

When you look up at him again, you’re also flushed. Eyes dark, wide, voice kind of unsteady. “Spencer, Spencer, can I?”

“Please”, and then you palm him with your hand, and it feels so good it takes all of his concentration to not come on the spot. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive this until you arrive to the main thing.

It’s not the first time someone has touched him like that, but it is the first time you are doing it, and it already feels better than anything he’s ever felt before. You’re either a wizard or Spencer is just biased because he thinks everything you do is ten times better than the same thing done by someone else.

Probably the first reason.

He has his head angled back, one of his arms thrown over his eyes. If he looked at you now, he’s pretty sure, he’d come. Visual stimulation on top of physical would probably be the end of him. It’s already too much, just feeling your hand move up and down his dick in various pressures. Almost as if you are testing what he likes best, and Spencer is definitely here for it. Definitely. He’s happy to just let you experiment with him until you know all the different ways to drive him mad with pleasure with just a few moves.

Which, you apparently already figured out, judging by the way Spencer can’t form a single coherent thought anymore. It’s already, so good, so freaking good holy shit, and you’re still not touching him. Still a layer of fabric between your hand and him and he kind of- just-

“Take it off?”

You still your hand, looking up at him. You look kind of crazed, almost a little pained. It takes two deep breaths for you to process what he just asked, eyes a little unfocused before they fix Spencer to the bed with an intensity that makes him feel unfocused. “You sure, angel?”

Spencer literally can’t do anything but nod. You stay in your position for some moments longer, before you sigh out a long breath, mumbling something that suspiciously resembles you’re gonna be the death of me. Spencer misses your warmth on top of him the second you hoist yourself up. It’s kind of crazy and destitute of him. You are literally right there but he’s waited for this for so long it feels like he’s suffocating without your weight pressing him down. Which is ironic and also, insane.

Your fingers are gentle, when they move under the stretchy fabric of his underwear. Even gentler when they pull down and down and down until Spencer is entirely naked in front of you.

Oh, he feels so exposed. While he has been the recipient of a mediocre hand job before, it’s been in his trousers. This is kind of the first time someone sees him naked like that, because school locker rooms and his mother don’t count.

He doesn’t dare look at you. If there’s anything akin to disappointment, not to mention disgust on your face- Spencer probably would have to jump out the window, stat. His gaze is frozen on his cock, steadily leaking precum on his stomach (which, embarrassing). He’s abashedly trying to insert himself into your point of view, tries to imagine what you think about seeing him like this. What you might think about his dick, if it’s too short or too thin or if it looks weird, if he should’ve shaved. If his legs look strange and too gangly now, or if his stomach connects to his pubic area wrong or-

“Holy shit”, you say, and Spencer is too curious for his own damn good sometimes, because he can’t force his gaze to stay away from you.

You look at him- like before. Reverent but more, so much more. He almost feels like a deity, the way you look at him. Someone to be awed by, someone that should be worshipped. Spencer feels his already in overdrive heartbeat quicken even more, blood flushing his cheeks so much it leaks down his throat, to his chest.

Spencer would literally kill to have you look at him like this for the rest of his life.

“Holy shit, Spencer”, you repeat, eyes now meeting his, “You’re like- a literal fucking dream. I cannot believe- you’re so beautiful, how are you so beautiful everywhere?”

Spencer whimpers and he needs you to touch him kiss him fuck him anything please now or he will absolutely die from heart palpitations.

Some of his despairing thoughts must’ve come through to you, because the next thing you do is moan, which is the best thing he’s ever heard. Then, you take off your sweater. Second to go is your cropped tank top and you aren’t wearing a bra and good heavens.

Pictures could never compare. Not even Botticelli could’ve adequately committed you to canvas.

Spencer must’ve taken some brain damage from seeing you half naked. He doesn’t remember you taking off the remainder of your clothes, nor does he remember you straddling him again. But, fuck.

Spencer kind of doesn’t use the f-word that often but-

fuckfuckfuckufuckfkcufuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckcufkc-

You’re warm against him, and wet, so freaking wet, and it feels so mind-blowingly good- it’s a miracle he’s still holding on. But-

“Won’t last long”, he gets out, breathy and whiny and just so goddamn fuzzy from pleasure. The world could literally perish right now, and he wouldn’t care. He can’t care, because this is the best thing that ever happened to him and he won’t ever care about anything else ever again other than feeling you, you you you you, against him.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe, gasp, and fuck, the way you keep using his name. “Are you okay? Do you still want this?”

It’s ridiculous you even ask. But the warmth in his chest, the feeling of comfort and safety and ease – because everything with you is so easy, so natural - he feels with the way you look after him-

He feels your thumbs caressing his wet cheeks. You put small, sweet kisses all over his face. Take the time to brush away some of his sweat-sticky hair from his forehead. Place kisses there too. You end with a drawn out, gentle kiss to his lips.

“What do you say, sweetheart?”

There’s really only one way for him to answer that. He trusts you. Plain and simple. There’s no one else he could ever do this with.

“Yes, I want. Please.”

You kiss him again. “So good Spencer, you’re so fucking good to me. I can’t believe you are trusting me with this. You are incredible, angel.”

Spencer doesn’t know how it’s anatomically possible, but he blushes even harder. Also, feels his cock twitch against you because he apparently likes to be called good almost as much as he likes being good. For you. Only you. Jesus Christ.

“Do you have a condom?”, you ask and ah. Well.

“Suitcase”, and wow. First word with more than one syllable since you straddled him the first time. He’s being so brave right now. He deserves a medal. Proof of Being Able to Speak Polysyllabic Words While Getting Fucked (Almost).

There’s humour glistening in your eyes, when you hide a fake gasp behind your hand and say, “Oh my god, Spencer you dog. Can’t believe you planned this entire thing.”

Spencer almost chokes on his own spit. “N-no! I just- uh, like being prepared.”

You grind down a snort, drive your teeth into your lower lip. “In case you accidentally saw your coworker’s nudes and them being down to fuck you about it?"

Oh my god, you’re the most ridiculous person he’s ever met. He can’t stop himself from grinning because seeing you trying to keep your laughter at bay-

“Yes. That.”

“But what if- what if it was Rossi instead of you seeing them? How would’ve your plan worked out then, huh?”, you wheeze, shaking from literal suppressed laughter and Spencer makes a sound like a dying horse.

“Rossi? Rossi?”

“Oh my god, imagine it would’ve been Hotch. He would’ve probably fired me so hard and then called me a week later to disappointed-dad-talk me to come back but to please, refrain from bringing personal files to work in the future.”

Spencer laughs. He’s still rock-hard underneath you, but he’s laughing because that’s what you always do. Being so absurd and silly that he’s shocked to laughter.

He adores you with every fibre of his being.

“What the fuck?”, you ask, incredulous but laughing yourself, “Is my misery amusing to you?”

And Spencer feels like being a little bit of a brat. “Very.”

You flick his nose. Grumble something like I’ll show you misery and then you move your hips against his and Spencer sees stars. Let’s out an embarrassingly high whine.

Ah well. It was still worth it.

“Don’t move”, you order, when you climb down from him to retrieve a condom. Spencer watches you, lets himself look at you. All the times he’s wondered how it would be, how it would feel like, being in this kind of situation with you. He’s never in a million years thought it would feel so familiar. Like you’ve done this before, so many times that it’s just become something normal between you two. He’s actually relaxed. So turned on it feels like he’s going to burst any second, but he’s calm. He feels comfortable, so much so that it doesn’t even matter that it’s the first time he’s doing this and he’s so clueless about all of this.

But he knows, if it’s with you, he never ever has to worry about anything.

“Do you have lube as well?”, you ask, rifling through his suitcase and distracting him from his sappy thoughts.

“Hmm. No, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, angel”, you say while returning to Spencer, and the nickname kind of switches something off again in his brain. Perfect. He’s never going to be able to be normal again about that word.

“We’ll have to get some, for next time. Always feels better with it.”

Spencer hasn’t really registered more than next time next time next time-

He’s pulled out of his daze of knowing your intentions of this not only being a one-off thing, when you straddle him again, a bit lower on his legs. Spencer moans, loud and high, when you grab him by the base and god, fuck, his skin is tingling with anticipation.

With your other hand, you grab the condom and then use your teeth to open the packet, and his cock jumps in your hand. How are you so hot. How does everything you do turn him on so much, what.

He watches you take out the plastic ring as if he’s watching from above, out of his body. He watches as you position the condom over his tip and then pull it down, down and Spencer’s brain must be lagging because he feels everything with at least a two second delay and shit, god, son of a-

“You ready, baby?”

He makes a noise between a sob and a whine. He’s losing his mind. “Please please please-“

“Fuck, Spencer”, you whine, lift yourself up a bit with your legs and then you are sinking down on him, inch by agonizing inch.

It’s so good, it’s so good, you are so warm, so hot, and Spencer can’t stop making noises until your hips are flush to his and he’s inside you.

You let out a loud, drawn-out moan above him. “Fuck, fuck, Spencer. You feel so fucking good, holy shit.”

He feels like he’s one move away from coming. God, oh god, it feels so incredible.

“Can I move? Spencer, please?”, your voice is wrecked, you’re flushed down to your navel, and you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.

“Please please please please”, it’s the only word he remembers how to pronounce.

“Fuck”, you almost sob, lifting yourself almost completely off him. You lower yourself back down again, one swift move, and you both moan.

You pick up the pace a little, fucking him with still languid but purposeful thrusts. Every time his cock sinks back into you, Spencer feels bits and pieces of his sanity crumbling away. He can’t think, can’t speak, his mind so fogged up and fuzzy he’s having troubles remembering who he is. He’s so completely at your mercy he’d let you do anything to him.

That turns him on a worryingly huge amount. List, something about a list somewhere.

“Oh, god, look at you. Spencer, baby, angel. You feel so good inside of me, so good.”

He keens, grabs at your strong thighs bracketing his slim hips. Arches up into you, closerclosercloser-

“You like being good for me, right angel?”, you ask, hips slowing down to a gentle grinding that absolutely drives Spencer insane and he’s too far gone to even nod, “It suits you. Being so wrecked for me, moaning and shaking. God, fuck, you’re divine, Spencer, fuck.”

The pressure behind his cock, low in his stomach, that’s been building all evening, all week, holy shit, it’s too much. Spencer feels delirious, feels your hotness around him, feels your hands pressing his chest down into the bed. He’s going to die it feels so good.

“You going to come for me, Spencer? You gonna be good for me and come inside of me?”

Please please please please- it’s all he can think, all he can feel, because because-

You give a particularly hard thrust and-

Spencer’s coming, moaning and moaning, shaking everywhere. He’s coming and it feels so good, so fucking good. He’s never come so hard in his life before.

He might have blacked out a little. The next time he’s aware of something, it’s you cleaning him with a wet washcloth. Slow, and gentle and Jesus.

“What?”, is the first thing he manages to say, and you snicker beside him. You caress his face, hand running through his hair, down his chest. Peck his lips. You’re both still naked.

“Feeling good?”, you ask and what kind of question even is that. You just fucked the soul from his body, and you ask him-

“I almost died”, he says, tagging your name at the end with an incredulous tint to it.

You snort, setting the washcloth on the nightstand behind you. You lie down close to him, cuddling into his side. “That was the plan.”

“Killing me with sex?”

“Yep. That’s for ogling my nudes without my permission, you creep.”

He says your name again, exasperated but so fucking fond it’s a miracle you’ve never noticed his pining before. You shrug, pull a ‘what can you do face’. Spencer rolls his eyes and then, unceremoniously, flops on top of you.

“Uffff”, you press out. “You’re smothering me, penguin.”

Spencer shrugs and copies the expression you just did. You bark out a laugh.

“Ha! Didn’t know post-sex Spencer is such a cheeky little shit. I’ve created a monster.”

He can’t entirely control his face, some parts of a smile slipping into his features. He does manage to poke out his tongue at you though, before he buries his face in your neck.

Some minutes tick by, you both enjoying the other’s presence and warmth and idleness, before something in his brain-

“Wait-“, Spencer splutters, pushing himself away from you so that he can look at you. “Did you- did you even finish?”

He’s kind of horrified. He was so focused on his pleasure- he- how did he forget? He doesn’t remember you coming and oh no, he’s such an asshole, who doesn’t make sure the other person has come as well and-

“Spencer, Spencer”, you shush him, fingers trailing along his back, and he shivers, eyes rolling back.

“I made myself come right after, don’t worry. You were kind of busy in your post-orgasm, pussy-drunk coma.”

Spencer flushes. “But I wanted to…”

You laugh softly. “You can do whatever to me, next time, sweets. This was about you. We’ll go on a date as soon as we’re back home. Fucking Florida is driving me nuts.”

Oh, he suddenly feels shy. A date? You want to go on a date with him?

“Really?”, he asks, and he hates how insecure he sounds.

You send him an unbelieving look. “Uh, what about the last hour makes you think otherwise? Seriously, Spencer, we need to work on your confidence.”

“Okay”, he mutters, a little bit pout-y and you scoff, pulling him down on top of your chest again.

There, with your hands painting patterns on his back and him completely lost in your warmth and familiarity, Spencer thinks that maybe, Florida isn’t that bad.

--

Bonus

“So, then. Made any scientific discoveries last night, pretty boy?”

Spencer chokes on his coffee.

“What?”

“Nothing”, his ‘friend’ says, smirking and leaning against his table, “You just seem to have figured out that little problem that’s been keeping that pretty head of yours all messed up.”

Spencer feels himself flush. Stupid body and stupid involuntary, physiological reactions. Morgan picks up on it, of course.

“Ohhhhh, want to share with the class what those discoveries were?”

Briefly, so very briefly, Spencer thinks of his self-compiled list but- no no no no.

“Shut up, Morgan.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @wasitforrevenge @wannabewolf @tommorecommendedfics @winterhi09 @theoraekenslover @chaewondrful @okeyhoezayy @busy-buzzing @laurakirsten0502 @redros3y @trashxqueen @kitty-kei @so-long-daisymay @hayleythecannibal @jsnsnsnszjzj @reeidsluv @kayane28 @moonysreid @desperately-seeking-serotonin @munsonslunchbox @tul1p-mimi @anuttellaa @pinkgomie @elizabethmidnight2017 @evrmorets @cyanidebitsg @bangchansdog @pinterestwhore145 @some-one-yiu-dont-kno @emma-e-a

i hope these work lmao, also let me know if you wanna be on my eternal tag list for any future Spencer fic ;)

[kisakunt]

Choso getting all jealous of a fuck machine and your dildo collection?

-🫡

“Why do you need that?” It’s a simple question, but you can’t tell if he’s angry or not. You and Choso were going through your closet, some spring cleaning if you will, and he happened to stumble upon your private box.

“I don’t know, it’s fun.” You don’t think it’s a big deal. Almost every girl has a sex toy or two. Sure, maybe you’re a little bit overboard— you did buy a three hundred dollar contraption that physically fucks your favorite dildo into you— but are you so bad for liking a little pleasure?

He pauses, fingers tracing over the veins on your hyperrealistic toy.

“Am I,” He starts, pausing for a second as if he’s questioning himself. “Am I not doing a good enough job?” Shit.

“No! No, baby, you’re perfect.” You reach and grab the dildo out of his hands, quickly shoving it out of the box. “You’re gone a lot, though, and I don’t know… I get needy, I guess?”

“Oh.” That didn’t seem to appease him. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“I didn’t mean to leave you unfulfilled.”

“No! Cho, you’re not understanding.” Your hand is over his and it feels like religion. You never get over him. “I think about you every time.”

“Yeah but if I were fucking you enough you wouldn’t need this.” Your heart drops. In some sick, twisted way you think it’s cute. 

“Is it better than me?”

“No.” He finally looks up at you, eyes full of something you can’t seem to understand, and also a little pain.

“Does it make you cum?” You’re not going to lie to him. If it didn’t, that would be a horrible waste of three hundred dollars.

“Yes.”

He’s grabbing you before you can even think twice, yanking you towards your bed with still such a timid touch. It’s a soft push when your back falls onto the mattress, and he’s on top of you in an instant.

“I’m the only thing that’s supposed to make you cum.” Choso fucks sweet. He can get rough, he can fuck you like he hates you, but despite all that he is a gentle lover. There’s never been a moment having sex with him that you haven’t felt his care radiating from him. You can still feel it right now as he latches himself onto your neck— open-mouthed and sloppy—, but there’s a sense of selfishness you’ve never felt before. Possession. He’s jealous.

It’s a silly concept, you think, to be jealous of a sex toy— but Choso is a silly guy. His hands trace down your stomach, fingers hovering over your hip before they go lower, touching you over your pants.

“I don’t like that you have those.” Choso is never controlling. You know he’s not telling you to get rid of them, more so conveying his emotions to you like you’ve begged him to do.

You gasp as he circles your clit, pussy wet under the cloth of your leggings. There’s a sense of routine when you and Choso fuck. He’s always asking what’s okay, always asking what feels good, always checking on you. But now, he strips you naked without a word, bringing himself down to suck at one of your tits while his hand goes back down to your now bare cunt.

He doesn’t waste time with your clit. His fingers plunge inside you, curling into your g-spot as he moves them in and out of you.

“Does it go faster than this?”

“Yes,” It’s shaky, because even though it hasn’t been long Choso knows how to make you feel good. Then he speeds up and it’s better and you’re cockdrunk without even having his cock.

“Oh, shit.” His tongue is back to lapping circles around your nipple, his hair poking at your neck, his chin pressing into your ribs, and you’re overwhelmed. The room is full of sounds of just wet— from his mouth and your pussy— and it’s vulgar and crass and lewd and you want him.

You cum quick. He feels it on his middle and ring finger— you taught him that, you taught him everything, he’s your picture perfect fuck toy— and whines into your chest.

“I’m going to fuck you now.”

It doesn’t take him long to live up to his promise. He’s bottoming out in you without a second thought, balls hitting you every time he thrusts.

“This is what you’re supposed to have.” You think you might be stupid right now. Actually, you can’t think at all— sharp breaths and erratic moans leaving you.

Choso is a whiner, but right now he groans. He’s fucking you like he needs you, like he loves you, like you’re meant to be his.

It’s almost grotesque; the way your pussy drips from both of your arousal, the sloppiness of the way it sounds each time he bullies in and out of you, the desperation from your spasming cunt.

“Does it feel like this?” He’s barely getting out the words, almost incomprehensible. “Does it fuck you better than me? Does it fucking love you?”

That’s enough to make you cum again. And now, you feel stupid for ever having it.

“I’m sorry!” He’s relentless, each thrust pounding at your cervix, stretching out the softness of your walls. “I’m sorry, I’m yours, I’m sorry.” And it’s beyond the toys, it’s beyond the insecurity and jealousy, it’s beyond primal emotions.

It’s connection. Sweat drips from his hair onto your cheeks, and in a desperate move you lift your head to lick it off his temple. He owns you. You can both feel it in the way your soft walls clench around him, you can both feel it as your legs wrap in a loose pretzel around his waist, you can both feel it as tears form in your eyes from how much it all is.

“I love you, I’m sorry, I’m yours.” It’s weak, muffled by your moans and the sound of his pelvic bone slapping yours. His hips rub at your clit each time he snaps them into you, his cock grazing the top of your pussy in a way you didn’t know was possible.

“Cum, please,” It’s pure yearning. You can tell he’s close from the way he hiccups his breaths, from the way his head has dipped down into the crook of your neck, from the way he begs you through gritted teeth. “I need you to cum, let me make you cum.”

And how could you deny Choso? So you let go, nails scratching at his back, fingers gripping at the slightest bit of fat on his waist, head lulled into the mattress, and you cum.

And so does he, continuing his choppy movements to fuck his cum further and further into you, getting you as full of him as he can.

He collapses on you for a brief moment, before he shifts himself out of you and next to you, arm wrapping around you as he presses kisses onto the top of your head.

“Is it better than that?” It’s breathy, exhausted and worn, but he sounds so sure of himself you can almost see his smile.

“No.” Choso hums, shifting gears into aftercare.

You finish your cleaning the next day, and when you’re back in your closet, Choso can’t find your precious collection anywhere. He thinks he must’ve done a good job.

[y3sterdaysproblem]

★ matt loves talking you through it ★

“there’s my good girl.”

matt’s sweet voice filled the air in his bedroom as he stared down at you from where he was propped on his elbow next to you, eyes locked on your face while his fingers moved inside you.

you were fully naked on his bed, legs spread wide for him to have easy access to your drooling pussy. he loved the way you surrendered your body to him, letting him have full access to you whenever he wanted, knowing he’d do everything he could just to see your pretty face twisted up in pleasure.

matt’s two middle fingers slid in and out of you languidly as to drag out the feeling as opposed to rushing it and getting you off as quickly as possible. matt liked to take his time, liked to listen to you for as long as you’d let him until you got too antsy and were begging him to make you cum.

“does it feel good?” he asked you in almost a coo, smiling when your head nodded quickly. your eyes were clenched shut and your hands gripped at the sheets beneath you, the only sound leaving your lips being a trail of whimpers with every exhale. “use your words, baby. you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

“don’t stop,” you rasp out instantly, reaching one of your hands up to grab onto his shirt. you turn your head to face him and open your eyes as much as you can, locking onto his bright blue ones that were already on you. “please don’t stop, feels so good.”

“hmm, I dunno, i’m not convinced,” matt hums, slowing the movement of his fingers. “no!” you cry, grinding your hips down onto the digits buried deep inside you. “please, matt, need to cum.”

“that’s better,” matt grins at your desperation, feeling his stomach coil at the way your pretty voice begged him to continue. the sound of you pleading for him to do absolutely anything was something he could listen to forever.

he picked up the pace of his fingers again, drinking in the way your moans picked back up. “you’re doing so well, baby, sound so pretty.” matt lets his gaze wander to where your bodies connect, listening to the sound of your pussy squelching every time his fingers drew in and out of you.

“fuuuck,” he groans hungrily. “she’s so wet for me, baby. you love my fingers inside of you this much?”

your eyelids have fluttered shut again, unable to stay open as your tummy started to tighten and your toes began to curl. “come on, angel, you know better. answer me.” matt’s voice makes you groan, the deep tone he adopts sending a shiver down your spine.

“y-yes, I love your fingers!” you cry out, back arching as his thumb moved to rub on your clit, sliding around the nub in circles easily from how soaked you were. “love a-anything you give me, matt, thank you.”

“good girl,” matt croons. “you wanna cum for me, baby? you’re so close, pretty girl, can feel you squeezin’ my fingers so tight. all y’gotta do is ask and i’ll get you there.”

you let out a loud string of whines as you nodded your head again, knowing he wanted to hear you speak but staying quiet since you loved the way he demanded it from you.

matt fully removed his fingers from you and brought his hand up to your face, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him. your eyes cracked open once more to see him staring down at you expectantly, knowing you knew better.

his fingers spread your wetness on your jaw and chin as he gripped onto you tightly, fingers so close you could smell the scent of pure arousal filling your senses. “please make me cum,” you whimpered out, parting your lips slightly as his thumb dragged over them. “please, matt, i’ve been so good.”

matt grins at your request and slips his thumb into your mouth for a moment before moving his hand back between your legs, dragging the pads of his fingers over your clit gently. “always gotta give my girl what she wants, hm?”

after he speaks, he slips his fingers back inside you and fucks them in and out at a pace faster than before, ripping loud moans out of your parted, pouty lips, your back arching off of the bed.

“go ahead, baby, I got you. wanna feel you cum around my fingers. that’s my pretty girl, let go for me, yeah? there you go.” matt’s voice spoke softly in your ear as his words tipped you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you intensely, legs slamming shut around matt’s wrist.

“fuck!” you shriek, body trembling from the climax that wracked through you, his fingers inside you still coaxing out the remnants.

matt’s face ducked down to press gentle kisses into your jaw as you tried to catch your breath, chest rising and falling quickly. “good job,” he praises quietly, sliding his fingers out of you so he could drag his hand up your stomach, once again spreading your fluids on your skin. “love making you cum like that, watching you fall apart from my fingers. so fucking pretty.”

you let out a small sigh mixed with a whine at his words, turning your face to meet his lips with your own. he kisses you back sweetly, pulling away after a few seconds to let you keep catching your breath.

“thanks, daddy,” you say in a teasing voice and matt can’t help but laugh, though he shakes his head and pushes himself down the bed slowly. “gonna eat you out til you’re crying now, okay?”

you were never one to refuse.

dedicated to @strnilolover

[reignpage]

Office fun with your husband/coworker, Nanami Kento ;)

“Kento, w-we shouldn’t.”

With your pencil skirt bundled up at your waist, he has the perfect opportunity to get a grip of your sheer tights and tug until they riiiiiiiip! Your husband will tell you he does that every time because he’s impatient and just needs to feel your warm and sopping wet pussy but the truth is, he just loves to make you gasp at his display of strength. 

Shushing you, he presses his nose to your already soaked panties and takes a deep inhale. “Mmm, you always smell so good, sweetheart.”

“Kento! Lunch is ending s-soon, we don’t have time,” you warn. 

His gruff laugh is your only response. “But I’m having my lunch now, honey.”

Your husband can be so mischievous when he wants to be. But there’s nothing you can do about it, especially when he’s pushing your panties to the side and lapping up your juices. The noises he makes as he sucks and slurps are obscene; they make your head spin. Sat on his desk, you struggle to find anywhere to grip for purchase when his long, expert fingers shoooooove their way in, filling you so good you swear you can cum already. 

Massaging your pleats, he groans at the way your gooey walls pulse around him, welcoming him back in. 

“I knew my wife needed me. Could sense it all the way here,” he mutters to himself. 

The cold metal on his finger meets your clit. Your back arches. Oh God. He’s rubbing his name with his ring. K E N T O….and something else… you can’t quite make it out. Glancing down, you see his half-lidded eyes already on yours, watching your heaving chest bounce and shiver. 

“Ah! K-ken! Right there!”

Tie loose and shirt unbuttoned at the collar, he’s gasping for breath too, desperate to not have to resurface unless he has to. “I can tell you’re -ha- close, darling. You always clamp d-down on me like you don’t —yes, that’s it sweetheart ride my fingers— like y-you don’t want me to go when you’re about to cum. It always drives me positively mad.”

Those fingers curl inside, rubbing again and again against that smooth spot inside you that makes your stomach cave in and your legs shake. His glasses are fogging up and, with a growl of frustration, he rips it off and reaches up to place it on your nose. Your vision blurs. 

“Take care of those for me, won’t you, honey? Darn things are getting in the way of me spoiling my beautiful girl.”

“Y-yes, Ken.”

Humming, he rewards you with a looooong suuuuuckk of your clit and your hands flies to his hair, mussing it up, threatening to make him bald. He doesn’t seem to mind because his fingers dig deeper inside, kissing your cervix as he refamiliarises himself with your sensitive spot. 

Then, with the tip of his tongue, instead of his wedding ring, he continues writing on your clit while his spare hand keeps your hips steady, branding a punishing grip every time you writhe to get away; your husband hates when you get in the way of his daily worshipping.

K

E

N T 

O

…..

“Fuck! What are —nghnnn!— you writing?”

“You can’t tell, sweetheart? You’re hurting your poor —mmm— husband’s feelings. God, you’re so beautiful sweet —uh no ha— d-darling.”

So lost in his own pleasure, he’s getting his terms of endearment mixed up and you know he’s growing more desperate to make you cum in record time. At any moment now, someone could walk in, could catch him loving up on his wife and though he wouldn’t mind, he knows you’d be very upset and he just can’t have that, can he?

When your eyes meet his again, you know from the possessive glint that heats your skin up that he’s been writing KENTO’S over and over again, muttering it into your quivering hole like it could reach your very soul and mark you everywhere. 

“Only mine, sweetheart. All mine. Even when we have our precious baby. These,” he pinches a nipple through your tight white shirt, almost see-through from your perspiration, “will still be mine. I’ll just share, no? Because I’m such a good papa, aren’t I?”

You nod, promising whatever he wants. 

“Good. Now, cum on my fingers and then, we’ll make love against the door, is that alright, my love? We’ll practice keeping quiet too. You’ll get better, I’m sure. You’ve always been such a good girl. My good girl.”