#could it be anything to do with the fact i only brush my teeth like five times a week?

[bisexualjinx]

i think i just chipped another tooth um is it bad if your teeth chip easily?

[cherrymoon4]

Suguru hates the taste of curses. He hates the aftertaste that persists in his mouth, that doesn’t leave no matter how hard he brushes his teeth or how much sickening sweet candy Satoru gives him.

Even when hours pass, no matter how many boiling hot showers he takes, nothing takes away the disgusting feeling that swallowing down curse after curse brings.

He has tried everything, every single thing that comes to mind to not have the aftertaste of a vomit soaked rag stuck to him for hours.

But nothing works, he is sure of that, he reminds himself as he leans over the bathroom sink, trying not to throw up after another “successful” mission and another curse swallowed.

As he takes deep breaths, trying to come up with something, anything, that could help him, he hears a knock on the door, followed by your gentle voice asking if he’s okay.

He’s always seen you as one of his closest friends, the one that is there for when he feels like no one can help him; when he knows Shoko is too busy with her own shit, and Satoru could only try to come up with a joke and probably wouldn’t take him seriously, he knows that the one he can always turn to is you.

Soft, sweet little you. Too kind for your own good, with a heart too big for your petite form. So selfless, always worrying over ‘Sugu’ even when he doesn’t deserve it, even when he pushes you away, not wanting to stain your pure self.

Just like right now, as he contemplates whether to let you in or tell you to leave. He pictures your pretty face in his mind, how it probably is adorned with worry and concern, your doe eyes big and glassy.

His heart clenches at the thought of you walking away all sad after he told you to leave. He can’t bring himself to push you away.

So he tells you come in, he just wanted to reassure you after all. But when he sees you coming in and rushing to check him over for any injuries, clad in your fluffy pajamas and fuzzy socks, his mind fills with images of him doing everything but reassuring you.

And that’s how he discovers that there is, in fact, something that can help him out.

He knows that this is all he needs, your pretty cunt in his face is where he belongs.

Your plushy thighs around his head and your sweet juices smeared on his cheeks are just what he needs to forget everything about curses and the awful feeling that they leave him with.

He reprimands you for keeping your heavenly pussy from him all this time; how could you be so selfish :(

He laps at your folds like a starved man, moaning in your cunt like he’s the one getting eaten out. And he’s so messy too! After all, how could he not be when he finally found the perfect treat to solve his problem?

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re such a messy girl mh?” he grunts, like he’s not the one turning his head side to side to smear your juices all over his face.

“This pretty pussy loves me so much, doesn’t she? Gushin’ around my tongue like that, bet it wants me to fill her up too..” he says as he toys with your puffy pussy and swollen clit, looking up to see you all dumb and stupid, babbling something about how it’s “t-too much!”.

But you clearly don’t know what you need, not when your hole keeps getting wetter and wetter.

“It’s not too much, silly girl. You can take it, I know you can. You want your Sugu’ to be happy, don’t you baby? You wanna be my good girl, yeah?”

And how can you deny him? You do want to be his good girl, his best girl!

So you spread your legs wider for him and let him lap at your messy hole, and you don’t even complain when you feel his thick cock prodding at your entrance, stretching your pussy nice and full :3

hello ^^ ( thank you sososo much for the love on the other posts! send me requests if you want :P )

[princessbellecerise]

You Kiss Their Scars

Summary ✩ How your lover reacts to you kissing their scars

Warnings ✩ Mentions of violence and blood

Jacaerys Velaryon

You were amused as your lips pressed against the teeth shaped scars, in the shape of tiny little bite marks that Jace explained were from Vermax

“He used to bite me plenty when we shared a crib,” Your husband told you. “He was a nasty little thing. Mother was afraid he’d take a chunk out of my arm—but he never did. He stopped doing it when I bit him back,” He revealed

You giggled as you imagined baby Jace and baby Vermax—both the same size at one point—going at it while Rhaenyra tried to separate them. “So I suppose you’ve both always been temperamental then,” You said

It was no surprise that your husband, who also had quite the temper, related so much to his dragon. The two were one of the same, and you guessed that’s why they got along so well

“Yes,” Jacaerys agreed, a fond smile on his face as he recalled the memories. “We were quite a menacing pair indeed.”

Aegon Targaryen

“She did it again,” Is the only thing Aegon had to tell you in order for you to pull him into your arms, kissing the spot where a nasty red bruise was forming

It was no secret that your husband and his mother did not get along, but never did you think that she would have the audacity to strike him after an argument

It was appalling to you every time it happened, and you wanted nothing more than to march towards her and give the same treatment, Queen be damned

It wasn’t fair that she took out her anger out on Aegon but he begged you, no pleaded with you to not do anything

“It won’t do any good,” He’d tell you sadly, and your heart would ache as you saw the brokenness, the sadness on his face. “She’ll just hate me even more if you act.”

Aemond Targaryen

“Hold still.”

You jutted your tounge out in concentration as you cleaned Aemond’s scar, making sure that it was sanitized properly for the day

Your husband trusting you with such a thing was an act of love itself. The fact that he trusted you to see his deepest insecurity meant alot to you, and all you could do to repay him and hopefully bring up his spirits was pepper light kisses on the skin surrounding it

“There, all done.”

“Thank you, my love,” Aemond smiled slightly as he touched the spots were your lips touched, still wondering how he got so lucky as to find someone like you

Cregan Stark

“Ow! Be gentle, woman,” Cregan said playfully, wincing as you brushed over his ‘scar’ with a wet cloth

Somehow, for some reason, your dear husband thought it would be funny to wrestle with his dire wolf and then he had the nerve to come crawling to you, asking you to patch up his wounds after the beast had bitten him

Of course, it wasn’t really that big of a deal and Cregan wasn’t really hurt, but you still smirked as you pressed a kiss to it like it was a real wound

“There. That should ease some of the pain, you big baby,” You teased, rolling your eyes

Cregan chuckled as he checked your work, looking at the bandage you had placed over some ointment

“What do you suppose it’ll look like when it heals?” He asked you seriously

“It’ll look like you simply have a freckle, Creagn,” You responded sarcastically, and then you giggled as he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap

“Don’t make fun me, wife. You should be proud,” He said, flexing the arm where the bite was. “How many men do you know have taken on such a beast and lived to tell the tale?”

“Only you, husband. Only you.” You snorted at his dramatics, wondering just what you were going to do with your silly, drama queen of a husband

Benjicot Blackwood

There was reason they called your husband ‘Bloody Ben’

You found this out when one day, he came limping home after solving a conflict in the Riverlands, covered in wounds and blood—so much blood

Thankfully, most of it wasn’t his but Benji still did have a few wounds that needed looking after

The Maester was busy, having been sent by your husband to tend to the other men, so you got the pleasure of dragging him to your chambers, making sure that he was clean before you began to stitch him up

The entire time you worked, Benji barely even flinched which amazed you

By the time that you were done with his top half, he’d barely said a word or complained which led to you kissing over a few of his stitches as a reward

“What was that for?” He asked in wonder, a small blush on his cheeks while you grinned

“That, my love, is for being such a good patient,” You told him cheekily, and you did not expect what Benji did next

Standing up, he loosened his trousers and then he grinned as he pointed at the area beneath his small clothes

“Well in that case, I’ll need plenty of kisses here, too. No promises that I won’t move if you touch me there though.”

“Benji!”

[thesummerestsolstice]

Notes on the Care and Keeping of the Peredhel, by Maglor Feanorian:

Need to eat three times a day, more if they can be persuaded (they do not seem to have the refined palettes elves do, and do not like my attempts at Valinorean fine dining)

They are very fond of maple syrup

One of the human healers told me they were "growing boys," unsure of the significance of this– a reference to their shapeshifting abilities, perhaps?

It does not appear that they will reach a full elvish height, though that may change

They can hear high tones that elves can, but humans can't

This bodes very well for their education in music theory

They do not appear to have the venom that some humans do, as evidenced by the fact that both Mae and I have been bitten several times with no ill effect

Still, I am thankful that Finrod warned me of this human feature, as it has served me well in many battles

They have not bitten anyone in months, which I appreciate, especially given how sharp their teeth are

Boys said that they could talk to shadows– unsure whether or not they were just attempting to scare me (ask later? Bribe with maple syrup??)

They like having their hair brushed, but do not like any of the scented hair oils we have at the fortress

They refuse to eat bird meat; unsure of why but I won't push

Elros prefers wooden toys, Elrond fabric ones, and neither of them is fond of metal

They grow faster than elves, but are still too young to begin intensive battle training, Maedhros

They are very sensitive to the cold, ensure that they have ample blankets and cloaks, especially in winter

Feel much better after spending time with them– those who spent time around Luthien reported similar effects

They appear to appreciate being pat on the head

Based on information by uncle Arfin (regarding Eonwe), this is common amongst Maiar

I've only had them two years, an incredibly small time in the face of the centuries I've lived, but if anything happened to them I would kill everyone in this fortress and then myself

[parfaitblogs]

guess ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer really likes changing the way in which he wakes you up. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut (18+ mdni) tags: soft dom!spencer. oral (f receiving). spencer bought the underwear r is reading (it's described). very brief nipple stuff bc i hate writing that word xoxo. healthy sex discussion midway through!! communication yippee!! desired somnophilia (it doesn't actually happen). fingering. spencer's a little shit (who's surprised). not proofread!  word count: 2.5k a/n: the lacy black pair with the little bows 💃💃 the ones i picked out for you in tokyo 💃💃💃imagining s13 spencer specifically in that episode he has his firearms exam. u know the one mhm mhm! 

You were indescribably pretty, in Spencer Reid's very professional opinion.

In every form. Even your sickest, most disgusting form — according to you — when you had gastroenteritis that one time after being away on holiday. You were pretty when you dressed up for a date with him or drinks with your friends. When you had just gotten out of the shower and had wet hair and were wearing your pyjamas (either being a matching set or one of his stolen t-shirts). And, his most recent obsession; while you were sleeping. 

Which might be sick in some way shape or form. How much he liked watching you while you slept. The rise and fall of your chest, the blankets bunched up and falling just below your hips — showing the skin of your legs, because the weather was warm and Spencer's apartment was always warmer. 

Yes, it probably is sick. But it's not like he did anything about it. In fact, he usually just watched you until the clock ticked to a time he deemed unreasonable to still be in bed, and he got up and went on about his day (thinking about you the entire time, of course). 

But it was a Sunday, and you had made him promise to be there when you woke up that morning; too sick of finding him out in the kitchen already showered and making food. When all you wanted was to lie in bed for — at least — an hour with him before your days began. 

Your rule was probably the only reason Spencer's mind wandered away from their usual thoughts about you in the morning. But he also wanted to blame it on the fact that your hair was freshly washed and his sheets now smelled of your shampoo, and your legs brushed against his own so many times he thought you might be awake already. 

You were just so, so pretty. And his shirt on you had risen just the right amount, your stomach peeking through, and really, Spencer should not be held accountable for any of his actions that morning. He was but a man, at the end of the day. 

Despite everything he wanted to do to you, he was still a gentleman, and this was a boundary of consent you were yet to cross together. Hence; the arm snaking around your waist, pulling you into him, and the kisses he had begun leaving along your cheek, jawline and neck, hoping to coax you awake, gently. 

Hope that had been answered, because he heard you groan quietly beneath him — the sound, embarrassingly so, shooting straight to the pit of his stomach like he was a teenager. But you were awake. 

"Good morning to you too," you had murmured, voice riddled with morning husk and a layer of exhaustion no doubt still there. 

"Morning, honey," he answered, lifting his face from your neck to your own face, lips twitching a little as you blinked your eyes open. He was quick with it, connecting his lips to yours and eliciting a quiet squeak from you, which simply had him smiling. 

"I have morning breath," you said, though both of you knew he could not care less. He never did, which was almost laughable for a man with such a big phobia of germs. 

"I'll need to brush my teeth after this too, anyways," he had replied, and your stomach flipped in the best way possible. 

"What's this?" 

"Hopefully," he began, placing one last peck to the corner of your mouth, before he shifted your bodies enough so he could trail kisses down to your peeking collarbone. "You'll like it."

"Promise?" you asked him as he hooked fingers beneath his t-shirt, eyes searching yours for approval, before he pushed it up and over your chest.

"Promise," he said with a confirming hum, trailing kisses down your sternum, before kissing back up and taking a nipple into his mouth. 

He decided he liked you like this; still waking up, too out of it to properly silence yourself the way he knew you would if you were in any fully conscious state of mind. It was arguably his least favourite trait of yours — how much you hid when all he wanted was to hear every little noise you made (a thought that shocked him too, the first time he thought it). 

But your back arched and barely functioning limbs pressed down against the mattress when you mewled, and it was beautiful and he was repeating the motion of his tongue flicking over your nipple once, then twice, just to hear it again. 

He smiled at your breathless whimper of his name when he detached his mouth, a hand dropping to your hip and rubbing gentle circles into it. 

"So impatient when you're tired," he murmured, almost scoldingly, gaze flickering up to catch your expression. Not that there was much to look at — you were watching him through half-shut eyelids, lips pulled into a content smile. He moved his head to take the other nipple into his mouth. Goosebumps rose on your skin, and so he comforted the other (now neglected) peak with his thumb. 

But, he was a man on a mission. And so despite how much he wanted to tease you, he had other, far more exciting plans for you. 

Lips kissed down your stomach, stubble scratching delicately at your skin, making you squirm and evoking a hum from Spencer, who glanced up at you with an arched brow. 

"Stubble," you explained, almost breathlessly, and his lips pulled into a smile in acknowledgement. Which was sweet. 

What wasn't sweet was the way he grasped your hips between his hands and pushed them into the mattress and said, in his (incredibly arousing) low voice, "Need you to keep still for me."

"You don't want my hips punching you in the face?" you asked. He laughed at that — it had happened one time. 

"If I can help it, no," he punctuated his sentence with his fingers squeezing your left hip, and you only hummed in response. Then, "Aren't these the ones I bought for you?"

You looked down, and his fingers were hooked under the waistband of your underwear, black bows resting on either side and flipped up on his fingers. 

"Uh... yeah. I must've put them on by mistake last night," you told him, and his eyebrows only rose. "What?"

"By mistake?" he mused, one of his hands letting go of the waistband to trace his knuckle across the top and down over the centre of them, eliciting a shudder out of your lips. 

"I haven't done laundry?" you offered your second excuse. His bewilderment only deepened and he pulled his hand away from you.

"You wanna tell me the truth?"

Damn him. "Okay, so, I was planning on trying to do something with you last night. I did an everything shower and everything," very complex sentences you were creating, clearly. "But then I fell asleep."

"I see," he said, and amusement crossed his features. 

"I wear them all the time!" you protested. "They're comfortable. Also they're really pretty. You would know if you tried to have sex with me more often."

He laughed, only because he could see the faux pout on your lips, and he knew you weren't serious. "I already have sex with you a lot."

"Twice a week isn't a lot."

"I'd argue it is," he said, placing a kiss to the inner side of your thigh — the recognition of what position you two were in whilst having this conversation being somewhat jarring, but mostly humorous. "Do you want me to have sex with you more often?"

"If I say yes, will you?"

"I'll do whatever you want me to," he answered, hair tickling your skin as he tilted his head to the side, resting it on your thigh. 

"Then yes," you breathed out. 

"Okay," he nodded his head, picking it back up to refocus on his task at hand. "Can I take this underwear that you apparently wear all the time off now?"

"Yeah."

Even in the warmth of his apartment, you shivered when he tugged the black lace down — with some resistance he no doubt expected, but still reacted to with a barely audible hiss. You smiled at that.

"So pretty," he murmured, like it was the first time he was ever seeing you. 

He met your eyes one last time, and you watched that stupidly gorgeous smile stretch across his lips, before he was leaning forwards and licking a stripe down the centre, eliciting a breathy whine from your lips. 

He was painfully good at this — a fact that popped into your head every single time he had his mouth on you. You wondered if he was simply born with the knowledge of your body already catalogued in his brain, because even the first time he ate you out, you were immobile for thirty minutes (though, he did make you come four times at once, so maybe it was that). 

"Angel," you felt a nip on your thigh, and your head snapped down, eyebrows furrowing when you met Spencer's gaze. "Focus on me."

"I am," you huffed in response.

"Really?"

In theory, yes. You were thinking about him. Just a distant, past him. 

"Am I boring you already?" 

"Maybe. You might wanna speed up," you replied, always taking the opportunity to have some form of attitude towards him. 

"I miss when you were half-asleep," he sighed, but he gave you what you wanted regardless. 

Lips attached to your clit and his tongue flicked over it, and any retort you had died on your tongue. He liked to shut you up this way, it seemed. Hands that were still holding your hips pushed you into the mattress instinctively, having premeditated the bucking of them. A whimper escaped you when he sucked, head pressing down into the pillow beneath it, and you could feel the muscles of his face move as he smiled against you. 

He always ate you out like he was starved, and if you didn't know better, you'd think he was. He was almost pathetically down bad for you when he was horny, though, and even if you were promising him pleasure, his mouth would find its way to you no matter what. Something about being a service dom or whatever. He had told you about it one time while he was knuckle deep in you, and you clearly didn't retain much in that state. 

"Oh," you breathed out when he dropped his head lower, his tongue circling your entrance, nose bumping your clit. 

You could feel his eyes on you when he flattened his tongue, watching every micro expression you made. 

Now, Spencer Reid was never smug about his knowledge. All those memories and his ability to quote just about anything at the drop of a hat and he never bragged about it. But knowing you? That he could brag about for hours and then some. Because truly, he knew you.

He knew he could make you come just like this; obscenely eating you out. In fact, it was quite easy to. But he found no fun in giving you what you were expecting. It was the only reason he was returning his lips to your clit, a hand dropping down from your hip, sliding over the skin of your thigh, before brushing through your folds, teasingly. 

"Spencer."

He repeated your name in the same whiny tone of voice as your own, mockingly so, and if you weren't so hellbent on reaching an orgasm, you probably would've kicked him.

A finger pushed into you embarrassingly easily, and you moaned, louder than you had yet that morning, which he knew. 

Indecent sounds left your lips continuously, and you eventually stopped fighting them. Much to his satisfaction, clearly, because he had curled his finger in just the right way at the same time he sucked on your clit and you were crying out and hands that had otherwise been heavy on the mattress were flying to his hair. 

You felt and heard him laugh at your reaction, only for him to do it again before you could argue. 

"Fuck, Spencer." 

"I know," he said, lifting his eyes back up to meet yours, twisting his finger and flicking his tongue over your clit. "Taste so good, angel. Could stay here for hours, you know?" You did know. He probably would, unless you had a mass protest to hold. 

"Please," you gasped out, pathetically so.

"Please what?" he mused. 

You opened your mouth to respond, but he chose that exact moment to push another finger into you, cutting any sentences you had off with a moan. 

"You've gotta use your words, sweet girl." You shot a glare at him, and he barked out a laugh. "Okay, okay. Sorry."

He was sorry, because he resumed his ministrations without so much of a delay, both fingers pushing in and out of you, filling the air with vulgar wet sounds to accompany your gasps and moans. 

You moaned his name again, and he mumbled another gentle, "Yeah?"

"Wanna come," you said.

"I know," he said, voice oh so soft, juxtaposing his every action. "Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Telling," you replied, almost huffily, and he laughed, increasing the pace of his fingers only slightly. 

"You don't wanna ask me?"

"Do I need to?"

"Maybe you should start."

"Spencer."

He laughed again, and you felt him nod his head against you. "Okay, okay. Making you come. Relax, sweet girl."

Arguably, you were the most relaxed you could possibly be. But you no longer had enough fight in you to argue, because he was rutting the tips of his fingers up against that spot inside you, and his tongue was moving faster, and you were gone; seeing stars. 

Maybe one thing he loved more than eating you out, was making you orgasm from eating you out. The way your fingers that almost always ended up in his hair scratched at his scalp, your thighs clenching around his head just enough that he had an excuse to pin them open, your voice going breathless and high-pitched. He had watched and felt it happen so many times it was burned into his memory, and yet he was still in awe of you regardless. 

Coaxing you through it and teetering on the edge of overstimulation was another bonus, because your breathless moans turned into whines and you always, always tried to escape him, and he got to remind you how much stronger he was, arms hooking under your thighs and tugging you closer. 

"Spencer," you whimpered. "No more. Please."

That was his cue to stop, and he pulled back, lips upturned in a lovesick grin as he looked up at you, face glistening. 

He pecked up your body until he had reached your face, and then he was kissing you again, regardless of the remnants of your release covering his skin. 

"Did so good. You're always so perfect for me, sweet girl," he murmured against your lips, swallowing your quiet whines. 

"Love you," you managed to mumble out, and he smiled against the cheek he was now kissing. 

"Love you too."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[klausysworld]

can u write something about damon just being soft and whipped for his girl. just need a damon fluffy fic rn 😩😩

Everything to him

Damon stood with his arms around his girl’s waist as she finished her makeup in the mirror. His chin on top her head as he watched as she layered the romantic red lipstick onto her soft plump lips. He could only hope to have their prints all over him by later that night as she looked herself over.

“You look perfect” he mumbled when she frowned a little and tilted her head. “There’s absolutely nothing I would change, in fact although the makeup has you looking all this much sexier, even without you wear the face of an angel” he purred seeing her lips lift into a smile and her head turn to look at him.

“I’d say flattery gets you no where but it seems to have gotten you rather far as of now” she lifted her arms over his head and round his neck while batting her lashes as him. He pulled her closer so his lips ghosted hers and his eyes dropped at the feeling of her fingers in his hair.

“I only tell the truth to you” he whispered gravelly and she hummed in reply, scratching at his head slowly knowing how it affected him. His eyes shut and pressed his forehead to hers “god I love you” he muttered and her smile grew

“I love you Damon Salvatore” she grinned and he tilted his head slightly to have his lips against hers. He allowed her to take the lead, moving her mouth against his and Brighton’s her other hand up to cup his face as both his hands slid up her back to hold the tops of her arms.

“You’re going to ruin my hair” he muttered and she laughed lightly against his lips before pulling back to look at him, her fingers running through each lock

“I like it messy” she decided before brushing it through with her hands and positioning it in a way that she found suited him best. His eyes glossed over as he watched her loving smile and felt her gentle touches. Her fingertips dances down the back of his neck and round to the front before she adjusted his leather, pulling it tighter on him and wetting her painted lips. Her palms smoothed down his chest, her deep red nails dragging down his black t-shirt before pulling up the hem only to groan at his display of abs. Her thumb tracing his happy trail and stopping at the top of his low-hanging jeans. Her fingers skimming over his belt in a teasing manner.

“Y/n…” he muttered feeling his body getting aroused by her actions “we have a reservation”he reminded, a breath of air leaving him as her hand cupped his crotch through his trousers “baby…” he whispered “you can almost never get a table there”

She sighed and gave him a light squeeze, listened to him grunt and then fixed his shirt and stepped back admiring him “okay…but after…” she pouted and he nodded eagerly

“After you can do anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

She bit her bottom lip gently and held her hand out which he quickly took with a lustful smirk in place.

He kept a hand in hers the whole drive there, only breaking the hold for a second as they got out the car before an arm was back round her hips. She smoothed her cherry coloured dress down, adjusting it to rest a little lower on her thighs as it had ridden up in the car. His gaze dropped to her heels which make a distinct ‘click’ with each step she took. His eyes followed back up her gorgeous legs, along her beautiful figure and back to her face. Watching as she spoke to the waiter at the front who was finding their reservation in the system with a bashful blush on his cheeks as she flashed her pearly white teeth. Damon knew how easy it was to get lost in her charm.

He was barely aware of the world around them as he followed her to their table by the window, overlooking the sunset which was already meeting the stary night sky. Menus were slipped into both their hands and wine glasses filled as though the staff just knew what they would order.

She looked to him with admiration in her eyes and his lips curled up “I can’t believe you managed to book us in here” she whispered and he smiled back

“I can’t believe you almost had us miss our time slot, we only just made it”

“I’m sure I would’ve made up for it”

his mouth formed a lip lifted grin in response and he glanced down to his wine glass “I don’t doubt that, not for even a second” he muttered under his breath and she offered him another award winning smile which consequently brought his own upon his lips.

Her foot slipped out of her heel to leisurely brush along his leg as their food came and they engaged in pointless yet meaningful conversation and ate their meals. And for one of those rare moments, he felt like he was human again. He felt no urges, no lust for blood or chaos, he was calm. Happy.

He loved Y/n in ways he had never explored. Ways he wasn’t sure how to but he did them regardless and if he was doing it wrong, she didn’t tell him. She just helped him feel it, she chose him first and loved him and solely him and it was all he had ever wanted. All he had ever needed.

His mind often wondered at times like this, just listening to her voice and watching her lips move, and then the way her eyes would shine under the light and her hair would bounce over her shoulders as she waved her hands around in unnecessary gestures.

He knew he was smiling like a teenage boy with a crush but he couldn’t help it, even when she stopped talking and just grinned back at him knowingly. Her hand finding his and squeezing gently as their desserts were placed before them.

“If you’d like…we could skip dessert” Damon whispered suggestively making her smile

“Oh but then we’d have wasted our reservation” she sighed and leaned back in her seat, digging into her sweet dish and watching his eyes darken over slightly before he looked down to his food and begrudgingly ate the heavenly portion.

By the time they had both finished, paid and gotten to the door, a horrific amount of rain was bouncing off the ground.

Y/n turned her head to him before swiping the car keys from his hand and dashing for car making him let out a laugh and chase after her, completely forgetting his vampire abilities and just managing to get into the car before she locked it. Both of them looked at each other with large smiles on their faces before each bursting into fits of laughed and flicking their hands at one another to throw rain-water on their faces.

Eventually they got home and Damon had he run his arms, spinning in circles and running for the ridiculously big bathtub so they could soak together in the warmth of both the water and each others arms.

[zalayni]

𓂃 💫 ੭ ᝢ SUGAR ༉

spendin' all my nights alone waiting for you to call me. you're the only one I want by my side when I fall asleep 💤

❛ pairing: earth42!miles x reader

❛ summary: after a long day there's nothing better than having your lover help you as you do your night time routine, no matter how girly it might be.

❛ warnings: the lower caps are intended. reader uses she/her pronouns.

❛ author's note: this is supposed to be longer but I lost everything and had to restart it from scratch. also this isn't proofread what so ever. I live like a warrior i'll die like a warrior 🫡🫡(I'm too lazy to read alat)

if anybody told Miles from when he was new to being prowler that he would be sitting in his room, wiping a girls makeup off specifically HIS girls makeup off he'd just tell them. “man you're buggin.”

yet here he was.

after a long day of standing around with music blasting in your ear while people laughed in the background you were finally back alone with Miles. it was silent but at the same time it was comforting. Miles was there kneeling infront of you, wiping your makeup off as you sat on the vanity chair he had bought and installed in his room along with the hello kitty mirror he saw people hyping up on tiktok.

don't get it mixed up though Miles would never use that vanity, he bought it for you. he filled up the drawers with makeup and products he'd see you use just for you. he did all of this because all he wished was for you to feel at home with him.

he went through the hard work of building and putting up the parts by himself as he was too embarrassed to ask uncle aaron or his mom for help. what would uncle aaron say if miles would randomly come in his home saying “help me build this pretty pink and white vanity I just bought.”

you always crashed at his place or miles would crash at yours. either way he always insisted on helping you with your nightly routine.

"all done Mami, now go wash up. I'll get your pajamas from the laundry." Miles attempted to get up before getting stopped by your hands pulling him down to peck his cheek. you pulled away while muttering a thank you.

Miles smirked at you while getting up.

"yeah, no problem. anything for my girl."

miles was the sweetest person to ever come into your life. who knew Brooklyn's number one killer would be such a lover boy? maybe it's because of the fact that he's always been a mamas boy growing up.

you finished up your shower, wrapping the towel around your body before a knock echoed through the bathroom. "ma, can I come in? I've got your pajamas." you quickly opened the door to see Miles standing there with your pink pajama set in his hands.

he stared at your figure watching as water droplets still slowly rolled down your body.

"Morales you're staring at me." you playfully said while side eyeing before taking the clothes out of his hands. Miles huffed and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you closer silencing your giggles with a kiss.

"whatever ma you're trippin' I wasn't even staring you're just reading into it too much. even if I was can you blame me? I bagged such a pretty girlfriend."

Miles eyed you down once again before leaning close to your ear. "maybe even future wife."

ugh what a tease. yet everytime he did this you felt butterflies in your stomach.

he chuckled before exiting the bathroom leaving you there staring at his back, stunned. you shook it off with a laugh and got dressed so you could be back in his arms.

you brushed your teeth and did your skincare that Miles would always restock on. you felt bad as they were pricey but he would always insist on buying them for you.

you hanged the towel on the rack to dry and exited the bathroom, practically speed walking to Miles room. once you opened the door you were met with Miles laying comfortably on his bed with nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants on. He had his arms up with his phone in his hands scrolling on whatever socials he was checking up on.

you closed his bedroom door before crawling in between his arms, laying your head on his chest. Miles sighed and put down his phone, wrapping his arms around you. He pecked the top of your head making you look up at him. "long day?" you asked him making miles suck his teeth.

"tch. ma you were there with me, yes the function was fun but of course my mom had to make us stay till past midnight talking about some ‘hold on we'll leave after I'm done talking.’" you laughed at him mimicking his mom's voice whole repeating what she would keep saying during the function.

mrs morales loved you so she told Miles to invite you to their family's function as his date which you gladly said yes to.

the day was long and your feet might've ached from all the standing as every seat was taken up, your stomach might've hurt from all the aunties insisting on you to eat more but at the end of day you got to see Miles smile, and it wasn't because of you. for some that was the rarest sight to witness.

after the death of his dad Miles drifted away from everyone but here he was laughing and bickering with his favourite cousins. he was actually playing his favorite sport, basketball for once and laughing whenever he'd steal the ball from his cousins.

you witnessed Miles grow as a person and slowly pick up broken pieces. it was truly heart warming.

here you laid in the dead of night, ear on Miles chest hearing his soft heartbeat with your eyes closed. you were calm yet your head was racing with thoughts. you decided to break the silence after awhile of listening to his breathing pattern and heartbeats. "hey Miles, I'm not sure if you're asleep but I have a question."

it was silent for awhile making you think Miles fell asleep before you could ask it but then he answered. "go ahead Mami, I'm listening."

"would you give the world to me?" you looked up at him only to see his half lidded eyes staring down at you. "mhmm no."

your heart dropped at his answer, lips close to quivering, but the hard beating of your heart slamming against your chest was calmed down with what you heard him say afterwards.

"hermosa, why would I do that when there's other planets too?"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

please do not steal, copy, translate or put my work on any other apps. thank you for reading 🫶

artwork in header made by koscribbls on instagram

[gay-dorito-dust]

Dick loves your plushie collection.

He doesn’t find it embarrassing in the slightest! If anything he finds it more offensive that you’d think it embarrassing having plushies as an adult. After he himself has a plush bunny dressed in his nightwing attire -escrima sticks and all- that he won at an arcade game a while back perched on the top of his bed back home.

He calls it dick jr and cuddles it when he has a rough night of crime fighting.

So he’s the last person to ever cast judgment on your plush collection.

If anything he lets his imagination run wild with them and takes full advantage of them. So if the instance came where you weren’t home, Dick would always send you photos and mini videos of him taking excellent care of a plush hare called Sir John Roderick Wellington the third by tucking him in bed at night, pretending to brush his teeth, etc

Or he’d make enact a photo shoot with a couple of them and send the results to you as your left asking where’d he manage to get all sorts of accessories for them…you’re still awaiting the answer to this day. Another thing he’d do with them is take them with him as company while he’s doing mundane chores in the apartment and act as though the plush is helping him.

You were quick to catch on that Dick having a hell of blast with it with how often he spammed your phone with a plethora of photos and videos that kept you up to date with the daily misadventures of your plushy. And yet you weren’t any better either as you kept them all in a album in your phone and are still wondering why your phone keeps informing you that you are running low on space…

Your favourite picture of your plushy was one where Dick had it tucked in bed, a picture of you on its lap, meanwhile Dick’s face could be seen peaking up from the bottom corner of the screen followed by the caption; ‘he misses you and can’t wait for you to come home and cuddle him. Oh and also me. :(

It’s became your Home Screen now and it was the best decision you’ve been made because it never failed to make you smile even on a bad day.

Jason loves it when you wear his clothes.

It’s free therapy for the man seeing you in his clothes and you can quote me on that.

He fucking loved coming home to see you do your own thing while looking all comfortable and relaxed in his shirts or hoodies doing so. For all Jason could ever want for you was for you to feel comfortable with him however you saw fit.

Also it gives him the more reason to stare at you shamelessly, well more than he did already, but you get the point. Jason is a simple man who’s not above letting it known how much he absolutely adores you.

So you wearing his clothes only added onto that adoration that he had for you. No one else could be more perfect in his eyes then you and he stands by that that statement.

‘You look perfect.’ -Jason

‘Jason, I’m wearing sweats and one of your shirts while eating pizza.’ -you

‘Yeah, perfect.’ -Jason

‘Doofus.’ -you, smiling.

Some days Jason would even go out of his way to leave his clothes on your side of the bed as a hint that he wants you to wear it for the day. Other days however he would be outright and blunt with the fact that he’d rather have you in his clothes than your own at this point.

‘Why are you wearing your clothes?’ - Jason

‘Because they’re my clothes and I feel bad wearing all of yours all the time.’ -you

‘Well I on the other hand don’t, take this shirt and go back into our bedroom and change.’ - Jason says as he takes off the shirt he was wearing and hands it to you, uncaring of the fact that he was shirtless in the living room.

‘You’re being dramatic Jason.’ - you as you take the warm shirt from his hands.

‘No I’m not, I just like you in my clothes a lot better than anything else.’ - Jason said, crossing his arms over his chest.

‘You’re getting jealous over clothes now?’ - you asked, raising a brow.

‘Yes.’ Jason responds instantly. ‘Now for the sake of my sanity go back and put my shirt on please.’

You kiss his cheek before leaving for the bedroom to change. ‘If you insist.’

‘I heavily insist chipmunk.’ - Jason says as he watched you walk away before following after to grab another shirt.

Jason loves it when you’re in his clothes. It’s his greatest strength and his greatest weakness.

[luveline]

is there any way we could get badass!reader x spencer? except he’s injured this time? how does she react?

tysm ♡ cw hospital / gunshot wounds. 1.1k

"You have to let me see him." 

"It's family only," the nurse says, shrugging sympathetically. 

You grit your teeth. "That's what I'm telling you, I am his family. We've been together for four months." 

"Sorry. Unless you're blood related or his next of kin, I can't let you." 

"Spencer's next of kin is in a sanitarium in Las Vegas. I don't understand why you can't let me see him." You're trying not to shout at her, rage trembling in your aching fingers. "I understand that it's night time, and that he was admitted alone, but he was shot, he's not sick, and I can't make him worse. Please. You have to let me see him." 

When begging doesn't work, you get mean. You'd be ashamed to admit you flashed your badge if it weren't for the fact that you have no shame when it comes to Spencer. Face flushed with heat from a good twenty minutes yelling, a different nurse escorts you to Spencer's room. 

"I expect my colleagues will be arriving soon," you say. "And I expect they'll be met with less resistance." 

The nurse smiles at you, as fake as they come, but you don't deserve a real one. You don't care. Breaking rules and bending policies means nothing to you while Spencer's laying alone in a hospital bed. 

His heart monitor beeps steadily. He's sleeping, waxy face crushed sideways into a limp pillow, his stomach a lump under the sheets where he's been wrapped. He was alone when it happened —no one, BAU or otherwise, knows who did it or why. The hospital didn't know who Spencer was until he woke up after surgery and told them himself. 

And you'd been sitting at home feeling sorry for yourself (and vaguely irritated) because he didn't answer your text that morning. 

It's not hard being vulnerable with Spencer. He's your widely known soft spot, and you're unashamed. But it felt like a mistake, constantly checking to see if he'd answered your text. Good morning, I know we're supposed to see each other tomorrow but do you want to come over and watch movies tonight? Let me know had felt like I'm pathetic and in love with you and my day revolves around when you're free.

None of that matters now. In fact, it's all embarrassingly small. 

You creep up beside his bed and reach out tentatively. His hair falls out of his face with the barest of touches. He's had blood wiped poorly from his cheek, orangey streaks lining his jaw. His undereyes are dark like he hasn't eaten for days, his veins spider legs stark against his eyelids. 

You put your hand on his cheek, rubbing it lightly. "I'm sorry it took me so long," you say, leaning down to kiss his forehead.  

Spencer stirs, a groan rumbling from the centre of his chest. 

"I thought that was you," he mumbles, his fingers brushing your elbow. 

"When?" you ask. 

"You were yelling." 

Yeah, well. You need to be disruptive sometimes. "They wouldn't let me in." You're not a big crier, just seeing him like this, knowing he was alone and probably scared, it has tears pricking. "Spencer, I'm so sorry." 

"Hey." He clears his throat, your emotion starting him into wakefulness. "Hey, don't get upset. It's okay. It bounced off of me��" You groan and he laughs, though he grabs your elbow quickly after. "Ouch. Don't make me laugh." 

"I didn't say anything." You pet his face. He looks pretty even when he's in a bad way. Your chest is a pit. 

"It barely touched me. They said my feminine hips saved my life." 

"Stop trying to make me laugh," you say pleadingly. 

Spencer holds your gaze. "Stop looking so sad and I'll stop."

"Are you hurting?" you ask. You know you sound awful, a scared tone that he's never heard from you before, and you try to tamp it down as a lone tear breaks free, streaking down your cheek. "How's your pain? I can make them give you more–" 

"I know you can. I'm fine now you're here." 

You lean down to kiss the tip of his pert nose. Careful, you kiss his lips, enthused when he kisses up. "I'll take care of everything," you promise. 

The door opens behind you. You give Spencer a last squeeze and find Emily in the entrance with a bag pressed to her chest, her hair windblown, shocked with worry. 

"Spencer," she says, rushing forward to hug him. 

He's in a hospital bed and still insists on comforting her as he'd done you, arms threaded over her shoulders. "Hey. I'm fine." 

"Morgan and Garcia want to be here," she assures him, standing straight. "They're trying to keep the site clean. Spencer, what the hell happened?" 

You drag a chair to his bed and sit on his right. You don't take his hand, he doesn't offer it, but the longer his story goes, the closer you find yourself. "I didn't even realise they were following me," he's saying. Emily nods with Hotch on the phone, listening intently, repeating anything Hotch misses. 

You know you should be strong. Brave. You should be paying attention to his every word, ready to take the rains and solve the case, serve retribution against whoever it is that thought they could hurt him, but Spencer looks so tired. You can't imagine being anywhere that isn't his side right now. A blood bag fills at his side, a catheter runs under the bed, an IV line feeding pain medication and fluids into him mottled the skin on the inside of his wrist with bruise. Sometimes you have to stay put.  

Emily hugs you before she leaves. You hug back. 

"If I knew getting hurt would make you accept love from your friends, I would've done it sooner," Spencer says. 

"If you ever get hurt like this again, I'll never speak to you," you say, bringing his arm to your lips and pressing a kiss to the crook of his elbow. 

"Sorry for scaring you." 

You lay your cheek on his arm, looking up at him through your eyelashes. "That's okay. That's fine. Wasn't your fault." 

Spencer drops his chin to his chest. "Do I look bad from this angle?" 

"No. You look just as nice as you always do." Your throat burns with sincerity. You might cry again. 

Spencer nods like he's reading something else from what you've said. It's not that you'd meant to imply a double meaning, but he must see on your face how relieved you are, and how terrified you'd been. He brings his hand to your face, ignoring his cannula, to wipe the dried tears from your lashes. "You look pretty, too," he says. "Just don't cry anymore." 

[theemporium]

Despite the fact drivers were meant to be cautious of their size and weight, Carlos Sainz was an absolute beast of a man.

Everything about him was big and you loved it, far more than you cared to admit. You loved the way he towered over you. You loved the way his thick arms would wrap around you. You loved his broad shoulders and thigh thighs and big hands and just every single damn thing about your boyfriend. Every single aspect of him lived in your head on a loop, not a passing moment in your life where you weren’t thinking about some part of him. 

And his personality only matched. Carlos Sainz was never one to half-ass something, regardless if it was a race or a date night—or in the most recent case, a honeymoon. 

He knew from the first day he met you that he was going to marry you. He knew that the day he found the perfect ring, that would be his sign that he was ready to propose and that day came around two years later. 

The ring was beautiful and large and encaptured everything beautiful about Carlos. The wedding felt like something out of a fairytale. The reception had felt like the best day of your life and you swore nothing would ever top it. 

And then Carlos whisked you away on your dream vacation, starting off with a massive villa on the Amalfi Coast. It was huge, far too big for the two of you but Carlos had insisted that it was what you deserved. 

Though, you should have known his real reason was so that he could fuck you in every single one of those rooms in the villa, with the sight of his wife and the Italian coast as his perfect view.

“Carlos—fuck!”

“Go on, baby, scream for me.”

“It’s too much!”

“Shhh, you’re taking it so well,” Carlos praised, his lips brushing against your ear as he gripped your thighs even tighter. “Don’t even need to do anything, just look pretty for me.”

You let out a choked noise, your lips parting as your husband continued to bounce you up and down on his cock. The last few days since you landed had been similar. Whichever room you were in, whatever you were wearing, whatever you were doing never mattered to Carlos. He just needed to have his hands on you. He just needed to have his cock inside you. 

He just needed you.

And it was hard to forget how big and strong your husband was when he did everything in his power to remind you.

Whether it was engulfing you as he fucked you from behind, keeping you trapped between his body and the wall as he slid inside you, or even pressing down on the bulge in your stomach when he fucks you on the bed, cooing at the reminder that even his cock was too big—Carlos was big and everything reminded you of that fact.

“Hmm, just like that, amor,” Carlos groaned as your nails dug into his shoulders. “Just hold onto me. Let me do the work, mi hermosa esposa.”

“S’too much, Carlos,” you whined as he stood by the large, floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on the setting sun. You had been admiring the oranges and pinks and purples in the sky when Carlos had settled in beside you, lasting all of three minutes before he was all over you—despite the fact you were still leaking from his last load.

“Never get enough of you, mi amor,” Carlos gritted through clenched teeth as he continued to move you up and down his cock, as his arms flexed with every move, as he fucked you like you were just a toy rather than his wife. And yet, he was barely breaking a sweat as he kept going and going and going and—

“Oh fuck!” You cried out as you clenched around his cock, nuzzling your face into his warm chest as you felt your body shake with the intensity of your orgasm but Carlos held you close. He let you wrap your legs around him as he held you to him, as he guided you through your orgasm until you were clinging onto him.

“Perfect for me,” Carlos hummed as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Every part of you was made for me, made for my cock.”

You snorted. “I still think it’s too big for me.”

You could feel his smile against your temple. “And yet, I make it fit every single time.”

“You’re doing God’s work, Mr Sainz,” you teased playfully as he huffed out a laugh.

“Anything for you, Mrs Sainz.”

.

[gor3-hound]

resident evil works (dark content)

☆ can't fight this feeling ▪︎ part one ▪︎ part two

ft. incel stepbrother!leon x reader

tw: stepcest, non-con/dub-con, somno

He'd been rejected more times than he could count, leaving him a little bitter. He's in his twenties, and he hadn't even had his first kiss. It was fine… totally fine. He wasn't mad about it at all. Women just didn't understand how nice he was. He'd treat his girlfriend so good if a girl would just give him a chance! He's started to give up on his exploits, coming to terms with the fact he'd probably just die a virgin. That is, until he's blessed with a miracle. Must be divine intervention, he can't believe he got this lucky. His dad ends up telling him he's getting married to the woman he's been seeing for a while, and drops the fact that she has a daughter that's just a few years younger.

☆ are you lonely?

ft. real dad!leon x reader

tw: incest

His gaze finds you again before long. His eyes flick over your form, hovering on your curves for a moment before he frowns. Jesus. Since when did he look at his daughter like that? Since when did his daughter look like that? Must of been a while, but he's only really noticing it now He's only been gone for a week, but it feels like a lifetime. You're always so happy to see him, always acting so domestic. You cook for him, clean for him and cuddle up to him after he's had a particularly tough day. You'd make a good wife for someone one day.

☆ sweet creature

ft. wolf!leon x bunny!reader

tw: slight dub-con, predator/prey dynamics

“If you listen to me, I'll be gentle.” He coos, licking a stripe up your cheek, groaning at the salty taste of your tears. “If you don't… well, I'll sink my teeth into the back of that pretty neck of yours and take what I want.” He growls, the expression on his face darkening. “We don't want that, do we?”

☆ meant to be yours

ft. rookie!leon x obsessive!reader

tw: self-mutilation, cannibalism

“Did you need anything else today? Or is that all?” You ask politely, your hands idly brushing the edge of the counter - desperate for something, anything to ground you as you wait for his response. The anticipation was enough to drive you mad with desire, but you had to stay composed. If only Leon could understand how much you truly wanted him. How much you needed him to see you, to really see you, not just look at you. What you'd do for him to touch you. Consume you. Become one with you.

☆ i apologise if you feel something

ft. leon kennedy x reader

tw: non-con, domestic abuse

“Cute. Real fucking cute.” He hisses, grabbing your jaw roughly so you're facing him. He seems to get even angrier when he sees how terrified you look. “Aww… baby. You're scared?” He coos, a mocking pout making its way to his lips. “You should be grateful. I'm keeping you safe. You have no right to be scared. If you knew what I've seen, what I've been through-”

☆ don't hold your breath (nobody's home)

ft. uncle!leon x niece!reader

tw: incest, non-con

You really need to stop with those tits. He's gonna lose it if they brush his arm one more time. He's not sure what it is about you, particularly, that has him acting like a teenage virgin again, but his self-control is wavering by the second. He hasn't paid a single second of attention to the movie he was meant to be watching to keep his mind off of you. Fuck this. He takes a swig of whiskey that drains half the liquid in his cup in one gulp. Liquid courage and all that. Maybe he'd drunk a little too much while he was here, ‘cause his brain clearly isn't working right. Not when he's pinning you to the couch, kissing your neck despite your protests.

☆ teacher's pet

ft. professor!leon x student!reader

tw: power imbalance, dub-con

He's sick of it. He's sick of you. He retired and took on teaching college kids in the hopes he'd finally have some time to relax, but you seemed to enjoy making his life a living hell. He'd had enough of it. As you're packing up once he dismisses the class, he makes his way to your desk, his footsteps echoing across the lecture hall. “Not you, miss. I need to have a word with you. Please come to my desk once you're packed up.” He tells you, tapping two fingers against your desk as he leans in to speak before he's returning to sit at the desk at the front of the hall.

☆ over again

ft. kidnapper!leon x reader

tw: forced ddlg, heavy dub-con

You go limp when he touches you. Docile. You let him do what he wants to you, just like a good girl should. Back-talking daddy is a big no-no. He wrote that in big writing on the rule list that's pinned to the fridge. Escape didn't use to seem impossible, yet now the thought never even crossed your mind. You'd tried, but he kept a tight lock on you. You wouldn't be surprised to find out one of the many injections he gave you when you were unruly had a tracker in. He always seemed to know exactly where you were.

☆ cry for absolution

ft. priest!leon x reader

tw: non-con

”Please,” he whispers, voice cracking as he gazes at you fully, your face slowly coming into focus. What did he do to deserve this? He was a good man, wasn’t he? He’d tried his best to help the less fortunate, to be kind to everyone he spoke with. Had he committed some sin without realising it? Some blight against God that meant he deserved this? "Please, I don’t want this. You’re misguided, that's all. I can help you. You don’t have to do this.”

As always, his protests fall on deaf ears. He feels the steady stream of tears running down his face, brows pinching together as you back him up into the confessional. His chest continues to grow tighter and tighter until his lungs constrict painfully with each breath. The air gets caught in his throat and makes him choke, his brain shutting down as he just lets you free him from his vestments and tug down his trousers. He's glad to be rid of the collar, at the very least. It feels less like God was bearing down on his throat to drag him to Hell for letting this happen.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

hi diva!!!! i was wondering if you’ve seen the movie “secretary” 2002….iykyk..

there’s one scene where the main girl crawls towards her boss with some papers in her mouth…hear me out….that scene x stephen glass….

he can be the boss or the one crawling i don’t care! thank u, i love ur work

-💜

TW: Stephen Glass lmao

Author's note: I am a diva again, slay. Welcome to the bunny's family beautiful anon, hope you'll enjoy it :33 also fun fact, I did literally the same thing with Clayton Beresford here

You stood awkwardly in the doorway, papers clutched in your hand, his email instructions still vivid in your mind:

'I need this report on my desk. No edits. Bring it to me in five minutes. Alone.'

STEPHEN GLASS was seated behind his desk, dark hair slightly disheveled, his glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose. The soft scribbles of his pen writing on the paper was the only sound you could hear in the room.

“Close the door,” he said without looking up.

You did as you were told, the sound of the latch clicking shut sending a small shiver down your spine. You approached his desk, the papers trembling slightly in your hand.

But before you could set them down, Stephen’s eyes flicked up, pinning you in place as if you did something wrong

“Not like that,” he murmured, leaning back in his chair “i want you to bring them to my on your knees.”

Your breath caught.

Have you heard him properly?

“Excuse me?” you managed, though the slight quaver in your voice betrayed your attempt at defiance.

“You heard me,” he said softly, but there was nothing gentle about the look in his eyes. “Crawl to me.”

Heat flared in your cheeks, indignation and something else—something choking the air out of your lungs. You hesitated, but the way he was gazing at you was unbearable, stripping away every ounce of resistance until you finally sank to your knees.

The carpet scratched against your skin as you inched forward, the papers clutched tightly in your hand. Stephen’s smirk widened, his eyes darkening with satisfaction as he watched you close the distance between you.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth - the one you imagined late at night when none was around. “Keep going.”

“Slower,” he murmured yet it was so commanding and firm you obeyed without much thoughts

Your palms pressed against the rough fibers of the floor while you inched forward, your head bowed, too nervous to look at his eyes. Each shuffle of your knees was deliberate, slow (just as he wished), and humiliatingly loud.

By the time you reached him, your heart was pounding, your breath shallow. You held the papers out to him, your arm trembling slightly.

But Stephen didn’t take them.

“Use your mouth,” his voice barely above a whisper.

His expression didn’t falter.

He was completely serious.

Swallowing hard, you hesitated for only a moment before you obeyed, clenching the papers between your teeth. Stephen’s gaze flicked to your lips, his lips quivering as he reached out, brushing his fingers against the edge of the paper as he took it from you.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfacting approval.

Your cheeks burned, your knees aching from the position, but there was something undeniably electrifying about him at the moment. The power he held over you, making you submit so easily.

“You’ll do anything I ask, won’t you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as if he was on the edge of finishing something..

Your thighs clenched instinctively, a spark of heat shooting through you at his words. The question hung in the air, demanding an answer.

Your answer.

“Say it,” he demanded, his tone sharper now, leaving no room for hesitation.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice barely audible around the papers. “I’ll do anything.”

Stephen’s eyes glittered with satisfaction “Good.”

He set the papers down on his desk without a glance, his focus entirely on you. His hand slid under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes made your heart race, your entire body trembling under the weight of it.

“Now,” he said, his thumb brushing along your jawline in a touch that was as gentle as it was possessive, “let’s see just how far you’re willing to go.”

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

Day 8: Breeding

♤♡-Pairs: Zhongli x Fem!reader

☆☆-Warnings: mentions of cum, tummy bulge, mating press, messy, mentions of getting reader pregnant, horny Zhongli, enjoy (;

When you came home from your shift this evening, you hadn't thought you'd come face to face with your husband. Working at the Funeral Parlor, he usually came home at later hours. But instead you found him sat on the couch, legs crossed as he held a cup of tea in his hand. And he only simply nodded when you greeted him.

Maybe it'd been a long day.

He would talk to you when he was ready, so you made your way into the kitchen. Rolling up your sleeves as you set to wash your hands, prepared to start dinner. Little did you know, that dinner would be long forgotten. You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and a nose brush against the skin of your neck. "I don't need dinner tonight. I only want you and that sweet pussy of yours."

Your hand immediately paused, your eyes widening. Zhongli's tone was different...deeper, more primal. And you couldn't help but squeeze your thighs together, out of habit. He chuckled deep in his throat, pressing his lips to your neck. "Meet me in our room, undressed." You swallowed thickly before nodding, he gave you one more kiss before slipping his hands from around you.

You had never moved so fast in your life, quickly drying your hands, you made your way to the shared bedroom. Quickly shedding your clothes, lying down on the silk of the sheets. Heavy footsteps made their way up the stairs shortly after. You weren't sure why he made you come up first or why you didn't enter together. But that wasn't important. The door opened, his large frame entering the room. His eyes never left your form as he undressed himself. Eyes full of lust and want, they seemed almost...darker.

Soon, he was just as bare as you, knees settling on the mattress. Arms caging you in as he stared you down. "This is a rare occurrence and I think it's time. I'm going to pump this tummy of yours full of my cum." His words tapered off as he ran a hand across your stomach. "You'll be so full, there's no chance that you won't be bearing my children. Do you understand?" Heat pooled in your stomach at his words, you nodded unable to say anything. He smiled, were his...teeth sharper? And was that..

His cock, it had grown in size, both length and girth. He was already big to begin with, thick veins running along his shaft. Would you even be able to take that..? He answered your question by properly preparing you first. Sliding his fingers in his mouth before slipping them into your heat. Pumping them in and out, adding more to make sure you were stretched properly. Already, tears welled in your eyes from the pleasure. "You are going to look radiant swollen with my children."

Once Zhongli was sure you were prepped enough, both hands grabbed at your thighs. Pressing them up until you were practically folded in half. The length of his cock rubbed sweetly against your leaking sex. And he didn't waste anytime, he fed himself into you until there was a small bulge in your stomach. He'd reached your womb.

You whined, still unable to speak and you had a feeling that would be the case for the rest of the night. Looking down, you could see him inside you. He watched your face, watching for any discomfort before pulling back, thrusting back into you. Setting a pace that made the bed shake and smack against the wall. The sound of slapping skin echoed throughout the whole room. He groaned, deep and guttural as he pounded into you.

"Gonna fill you up nice, sweetheart. You'll be leaking my cum." His hips snapped forward, your breasts shook from the power. Your thighs shivered and cramped from the position but it was so delicious you couldn't be bothered to complain. All you could do was grip tight to the sheets and sob. Your breath catching in your throat as he used you like he wanted.

A mess was being made, you knew this for a fact. Your ankles groaned from the tight grip he had on them, keeping them in place above your head. He slid in and out, over and over again until finally his hips stilled. Spilling his load inside your warm insides, but he didn't stop there. Almost immediately, he picked back up. The sound almost obscene with how wet it sounded. A mixture of your arousal and his cum, coating your thighs and pussy.

"Need to fill you up more, I need you leaking."

You sobbed openly as he did just as he promised. That night, he had cum so much inside you that when he finally pulled out. It immediately gushed, leaking on the sheets and all the way back to your ass. That wouldn't do, he'd have to keep his baby plugged up.

Safe to say, you slept with his cock still inside you that night.

Masterlist

Prev. ☆ Next.

[spncvr]

HIII I kinda suck at writing so maybe you could take my idea and use your amazing writing skills and make something of it? (Only if you want ofc!!) hear me out yk how Spencer rambles about random facts and everything at the bau imagine if he had a partner (was a profiler as well) and that knew a lot about musics or movies and would ramble about it to him?

Ignore this if it sounds stupid 😭

rambles | s. reid

summary: you talk a lot, spencer doesn't mind.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

warnings: okay so idk if this counts as gn!reader?? but reader wears a dress lol. drinking, and again my terrible english,, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: hey beautiful!! this deffo does not sound stupid i had fun writing it but this is so bad im sorry i didn't do u justice *crying emoji* also im so sorry this took me forever to finish LMAOOO

masterlist

YOU CAN FEEL it.

In your spine, in your ears. The song’s quiet but it had you in its grip, tight and firm—music’s always been like that to you. It didn’t matter if it was Hendrix, Queen or even Chopin; it has always been the one thing to make you stop dead at your feet. It’s a feeling you can’t quite put your finger on. There wasn’t a word in the English language that could possibly describe how it made you feel. Perhaps, you think humorously, you ought to learn another language, or two. 

You’re wearing this dress. This sweet, white silk thing that sweeps against your knees each time you take a step. The taste of expensive wine sits against your lips, lingering. The glass rests idly around your hand and your grip is careful. Expensive red wine and a cheap dress don't usually mix well together. 

“You okay?” 

You smile, teeth and all. Spencer who’s found his place next to you, furrows his eyebrows worry painted against his soft features. He looks tired. But he’s here, with the rest of the team; he always is.

“Fine,” you say, blasé. “You, Dr. Reid?”

His eyebrows raise slightly, “Yeah, fine.” then, “nice dress.” It’s a small whisper. 

You brush your tongue against the wine on your lips. The comment catches you off guard—especially when he’s dressed like this and looks at you like that. So, all that leaves your wine-stained lips is a small: “Oh.” then, because you remember your manners you say, “Thank you.”

The song changes, and Spencer smiles, “The songs—” he says “they’re nice.”

“I—” You stop yourself from rambling because really, they’re more than nice. It’s Elle Fitzgerald. She’s—Her voice, her instrument is clear as a bell, with diction that’s almost impossible to misunderstand. Her rhythm is— well it’s, you can set her as the metronome for her own band. Which, well, isn’t exactly easy to do. The way she’s able to scoop and bend her pitches with such precision is, beyond, nice. So the song, really it’s, more than nice, it’s a masterpiece it’s—

“Uh, yeah, s’nice.” you pause, “More than nice, really.”

Spencer smiles, amused, “More than nice?” he echoes.

You clear your throat, “It— yeah. I mean, it’s Fitzgerald, you know…”

“I don’t know,” he says simply.

Figures, you think. “No, yeah. She’s, like, got this tone in her voice, you know? And it’s like she’s the one leading the band— with the rhythm, I mean. As in like, instead of the drummer, which isn’t exactly easy to do. You know, actually, some people say she — she’s got the voice of an angel. Or something along the lines; can’t really remember and—” you pause, slightly embarrassed at how much you’ve been talking.

“Er, sorry,” you mumble sheepishly. The edge of your shoes had suddenly become increasingly interesting. “didn’t mean to go on a tangent.”

Spencer kisses his teeth, and you look up to find him grinning. “No, uh,” he scratches the edge of his eyebrow. “You don’t need to apologize for talking about something you like.” He seems to think about his next words as he brushes his hand against your arm. It sends a shiver that lingers longer than the touch itself. Spencer Reid could be so cruel sometimes. 

“I love listening to you talk.”

Your dress ends up wine-stained, anyway.

as usual my inbox is always open for requests (or just to talk lol) but it will take 192374 years to actually finish it,, reblogs are soo appreciated !! (u guys r always so kind idk why im asking for them) so is feedback btw!! (despretely in need of some)

[traumxrei-archive]

【 death scares 】

prompt #6: Oh, Great Seven, he thought they were going to die. Please don’t ever scare him like that again (ft. sebek zigvolt, jade leech, leona kingscholar)

gn! prefect (you/yours), drabbles, word count: 1.6k

a/n: hello, i finished my research proposal so i have time before my next deadline to post this >:DD it's angsty asf, but i made sure that it was hurt/comfort so dw i gotchu guys ^^

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek wasn't someone who usually got scared. He knew better than to succumb to such feelings that all but interfered with one's ability to act. It was one of the things he learned when he was training to be one of the Young Master's guards.

But when he saw you dangling from a broom midair, Sebek felt all the hairs on his arms raise. You were barely holding on, and he could see everyone shouting in alarm from where you were.

If you fell, then you would...

Sebek gritted his teeth, "Give me one of your brooms, humans!" His voice boomed over all the commotion, turning heads.

The person nearest to him stuttered, "But brooms are only meant to hold one perso—"

"Does that matter?" Sebek grabbed the broom out of the other's hands. "If you don't do anything, that human is going to fall!"

He hopped onto the broom, flying to where you were before shouting, "Human! You need to let go and get on my broom!"

"I can't!" You cried, your arms shaking with effort. "You'll get hurt, Sebek!"

"Human, I am ten times more durable than you," Sebek said as calmly as he could, bringing his broom closer to yours. "If I fell from this height and got hurt, it'd be an insult to the Young Master!"

"Sebek!"

"What is it?"

"Promise you won't get mad?"

"I can't," Sebek watched as your fingers started to slip. "But I'll promise we won't fall."

It was at that moment when you fell. He felt his broom shift under your weight, and he strained to reinforce it with magic.

But you were here.

You were safe, and that was all that mattered to Sebek. He could feel the pounding of your heart against his back where you clutched onto his uniform.

"What were you thinking?" Sebek ranted, his anger finally surfacing as they made their way to the ground. "Human, I'll have you know that you could've died or been seriously injured!"

"Not only that," Sebek turned to face you. "The fact that— You're...crying...?"

You held on to one of his sleeves, the tears dripping onto the grass below, "I'm s-sorry, Sebek, I didn't mean to...to do that, it just—"

Sebek sighed, resting a hand on your shoulder, "It is alright. You are safe now, human, I was just—" Worried...? Worried? The Sebek Zigvolt, worried about a mere human? But really, who was he kidding? You weren't just a mere human to Sebek, were you?

"I didn't want to see you hurt, is all," He finished lamely. And he could see your eyes sparkling— this time not with unshed tears. Great Sevens, what kind of feeling was currently strangling his heart? Was it...fondness?

Sebek felt his ears warm, quickly brushing off the blooming feelings in his heart, "I-It would be best to get your hands checked out, I shall take you to the nurse!"

You smiled at that. A small smile, but to Sebek it meant the world. He continued on, rambling about broom safety as he led you to the infirmary. If it meant that you were smiling and not crying anymore, then Sebek would more than gladly fill up the silence with his voice.

Jade Leech

Of all the things to happen today, he didn't think watching you put yourself in mortal peril was going to be one of them. Jade swallowed, trying to clear the stuffy feeling that seemed to sufuse his whole body.

He was waiting for you outside of the infirmary, the initial shock after the accident having finally subsided. Still, he couldn't get the picture of your body lying prone on the ground out of his mind.

"It was due to incorrect ratios," The nurse had said. "The alchemy potion had turned into a potent airborne poison. And if you had arrived any later..."

Jade didn't want to think about that part.

But soon enough, the nurse called him in. As he walked up to your bed, he couldn't bring himself to speak first. You weren't watching him, clearly focused on trying to open your water bottle.

"Let me," Jade's voice escaped him, and he saw your eyes widen when you saw him. He opened the bottle, handing it back to you without another word.

"Thank you."

Jade didn't know what else to say, his eyes following you as you drank. His mind brought back the image of you being unnaturally still. It was morbid. The thought made him sick, yet he couldn't stop thinking about it.

"Jade-senpai," You met his gaze and he felt his throat constrict. "Are you...mad at me?"

Jade felt his lips twitch, "Why, pray tell, would I be mad?"

"I...I'm sorry, I wasn't being careful enough," You bit your lip, and he couldn't bear to be upset with you any longer. He sighed, taking a seat beside you.

He very slowly slipped off his glove, talking all the while, "Next time you find yourself having to do an alchemy assignment alone, do invite me."

"But you're busy," There was clear hesitation in your voice, even as his hand tentatively held yours.

"Kind to a fault," Jade said shakily, feeling unsteady now that he could feel the warmth of your skin against his own. "There's no need for that. Your safety is more important, and I would gladly spend time with you. At least next time take one of your friends with you just...just in case." Jade pressed his lips together. He didn't mean to nag. He didn't mean to talk much at all, but the sight of you pried all his feelings out him so effortlessly. He really couldn't win against you.

And like you knew exactly what he wanted to hear, you smiled, "I'm okay now. See?" Your palm cupped over his, bringing his fingers to rest against your neck. And sure enough, he could feel your pulse thrumming under his fingers.

Jade closed his eyes before opening them again, "Right. Now then, I will be overseeing your recovery from now on." He clapped, his magic swirling through the air to tug your blankets into a more acceptable state.

"Wait, what–"

"I'll contact your friends to let you rest for now."

"No, senpai, wait–"

"Surely you aren't objecting to rest, Prefect?" Jade smiled as politely as he could and he watched as you shuddered. "After all you almost di–"

"I'll be in your care then," You huffed, before patting his arm. "Just make sure you don't over do it."

"I won't. I'll be taking very good care of you."

Leona Kingscholar

"The Prefect got into an accident."

Leona couldn't understand how those words filled him with such dread. He couldn't even wait for Ruggie to finish, he was already rushing to the infirmary.

What did Ruggie mean by you got into an accident? What kind of accident was it? Were you okay? Sevens forbid that you were...

Leona gritted his teeth as he arrived. Irrational anger and worry wasn't like him. He took a deep breath, schooling his emotions before knocking on the door.

"Kingscholar," The nurse acknowledged. "To what do I–"

"The Prefect."

"...Right," They nodded before leading him toward where you were. The curtains were drawn and he couldn't...see you. "Don't do anything too rash."

Leona nodded, drawing back the curtain. His stomach dropped at the sight of you, your head wrapped up in bandages, and plasters covering your arms and legs.

You were awake, and you blinked as he stood there, "Leona-senpai..."

Leona heaved out a harsh breath, sitting at the edge of the bed. He didn't know what to do. Not when that ugly mix of anger and worry was bubbling at the base of his throat. Instead all he did was stare, as if any second an ugly red would mar the bandage on your head.

"I, uhm," You spoke first, your head turned downward. "It wasn't anyone's fault. We...had some rain at Ramshackle, and it leaked inside... The staircase, it... Ramshackle's old, so..."

"You're telling me the staircase fell in on you?" There was a surprised look on your face as he spoke. Even he couldn't understand the flatness of his voice.

"I...yeah," You clenched your fists. "Grim's okay, he was at the foyer when it happened, but..."

"So you almost died," At your nod, Leona felt the anger morph straight into fear. Died? The herbivore? You almost died?

He scowled at the thought as he pried your hands from the sheets, "Stop that. You're gonna make your injuries worse." His eyes met yours, and he could see the fear there too— in the way you trembled despite the day being warm.

"Herbivore..." He muttered before moving closer to you. He was mindful of your bandages as he held you, trying to ease your shaking.

"I was scared," You murmured into his shoulder. "I thought that it was the end, and—"

"You're here now," Leona soothed, and he wasn't sure who he was trying to comfort. "You'll be alright, herbivore." You pulled away with a weak smile and it took all of Leona's self control not to pull you back to him.

He sighed, hanging his head, "You...you drive me crazy. Really, do I have to cast protective spells on you to keep you safe?"

Your hand settled over his, "I won't object if you do. It might come in handy sometime."

"That's not the point. And you should sleep," Leona gently pushed you against the pillows. "How are you gonna get better enough to ask Crowley for more budget if you don't rest?"

"And..." Your voice was quiet; inquisitive. "You'll stay?"

"I wasn't planning on leaving," Leona braced his head against his arm. "Now sleep." That seemed to appease you, and soon enough, he could hear the steady sound of your breathing fill the room. And in the quiet of the room, Leona vowed never to let you fall into danger again. Not if he could do something about it.

ty for reading the hurt/comfort !! i hope that it uh, appeased your angst chasing for now, and if you'd like to read more of my stuff, check out my masterlist <3

[jayke0]

A Pleasant Surprise

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem reader

Summary: Steven has had something on his mind for a while now, and finally he divulges his fantasy to you; degrading was certainly not on your playing cards.

Rating: nsfw, smut

Warnings/Content: sub!Steven, dom!reader, “mommy” title, degrading, grinding, cumming in pants, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).

Word count: 1,441

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.

………......................…………………………………….

When Steven had come to you with a “fun idea”, you'd expected something along the lines of ”naive uni teacher gets fucked by his student”, but this was so much better.

“Love? I have a, uh…suggestion,” Steven calls from the bathroom between brushing his teeth. “Well, it's more of a proposal, really.”

“Yeah? Go on.” You're sitting in your bedroom reading some gruesome crime novel that Marc seems to have a real distaste for.

You hear the water running briefly before your boyfriend joins you in the room, warm morning sun streaming in through the cracked curtains and casting a soft glow over his face. “I mean, we don't have to do it now of course. I know you're reading and all that, and I have to get to work in a bit–.”

You close your book and pat the edge of the bed, making him instantly respond to your gesture by placing himself down. “I'm all ears, sweetheart, lay it on me.”

Blood rushes to Steven's face as he actually thinks about saying it outloud, feet shuffling a little on the creaky floorboards. The words feel stuck in his throat now that he has to speak them, despite the fact he'd thought about the whole image on numerous occasions... and in great detail.

“Heeyy c’mon,” your hand brushes his arm, and you move closer to him to wrap your arms fully around his, crinkling his blue floral shirt. “You know I can't read your mind, Steven… Though I wish I could, that'd be super fucking helpful, then the other two couldn't lie to me.”

His chuckle makes you smile and you feel him draw in a long breath.

”I wanna like… grind against you… and I want you to mock me for it, u-until I cum… in my trousers…”

The pauses between his words are almost comical, but you look up at his face and see that he's completely serious, looking at you with wide eyes and waiting for an answer.

“Oh! Right.”

“Ah, Gods! No no... no no no no no, forget it–.” He frantically shakes his head, his hands doing the same as his face scrunches. “It's weird, I'm sorry, pretend I never said anything. Me and my big bloody mouth.”

“Steven,” you say between giggles, hand resting on his soft face to pull his gaze towards you. “It's not weird, silly! I just didn't expect you to be the one that's into degrading.” Careful not to fall back off of the bed, you climb onto his lap, thighs either side of his as you examine his expression, how gorgeous he looks with his brows knitted together and his unruly curls that Marc would definitely be gluing down with copious amounts of gel right about now.

His chest deflates as he lets out a soft sigh, resting his head on your chest out of embarrassment while you link your arms around his neck to run your fingers through the long curls at the back of his head. You feel his hands graze up your back, gliding under your night shirt and making you shiver with the warmth.

“Are you sniffing me?”

“No! Well…” he pauses, “yeah, but not in a creepy way.” The man lifts his head and looks up at you with those big doe eyes, and you watch them close as you start rolling your hips down on him slowly. You're only in your underwear underneath that shirt, but Steven is fully clothed and ready for work… or at least he would be, if his eyes weren't fluttering shut and arousal wasn't growing in his tummy.

“I promise you, darling, I like your idea.” You reassure him with your hips drawing slow circles against the material of his trousers, creating a delicious friction. “As long as you tell me if it's too much, alright?”

The bed creaks a little with your grinding before he looks up at you, nodding with a kind of desperation in his eyes that lights a fire in your gut.

“You promise?”

“Yeah love, yeah I promise.” He says, his voice a little more whiny.

You don't bother yourself with working out the psychological reasons for why your boyfriend enjoys being degraded about how long he can last, chalking it up to his masculinity, despite your reassurances that he's just as much of a man as his other two alters.

“You've got 10 minutes, think you can do that?”

Steven groans at your question, since both of you know all too well that 10 minutes is more than enough time. Still, he nods, big puppy dog eyes looking up at you and begging you to divulge in his vision.

A smirk creeps across your face when you see those glassy eyes, your gaze trailing down to the blush dusting his cheeks and the straining muscles in his neck.

“God Steven, I love the way you look at me. Look at those big soft eyes, all for mommy, aren't they?”

He lets out a whimper with the use of that title, his cock stirring in his trousers and reminding you of the thin barrier that's stopping you from grinding on the rough material of his slacks all together. The man doesn't take his gaze off of you; he drinks in every one of your features as if he's seeing you for the first time.

Rocking his hips up, he pants.

“Yes mommy, all for you, I'm all for you.”

“That's right, sweetheart, those desperate eyes are for me. that dumb little face is mine.” You lean forward and nip his bottom lip, soothing it afterwards with your tongue as he gasps and bucks his hips.

“I can feel you twitching, baby. You just can't help it, can you? Always getting so worked up and hard when I'm around, maybe I should put this pretty cock in a cage, what do you think?”

Steven's shoulders drop as he leans forward into your neck, biting and sucking any skin he can get his mouth on while his hot breath and whimpers raise goosebumps over your skin.

The suction he had in your neck is broken as his head is suddenly jerked backwards, your grip tight in his hair and making him whimper pathetically.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

His adam's apple bobs in his throat as he tries to suppress his moans, his head nodding wildly. “Yes mommy, I'd– agh–I'd love that.” His hips buck again.

“Mhm.. then you'd at least last longer than 5 minutes, you'd actually be able to fuck me properly.”

Steven's mouth hangs agape, his eyes now squeezed shut as his grip on your hips tighten and he guides your hips down on him harder, wanting more, anything.

“Sh–it… Ah- Feels so good.” His eyebrows knit together in a beautifully strained way. “More, gimme more–.”

You tut with a small smirk on your lips, rocking back and forth to coat his trousers in your own arousal that's seeped through your underwear.

“Oh, look at you, you gonna cum in your pants, baby? Gonna prove how pathetic you are to mommy?” You feel the muscles in his shoulders and back tighten. “C'mon sweetheart, cum for me, ruin those pants.”

Sweet moans and whimpers tumble from the man's rosy lips as he finally lets go, staining his boxers enough that you feel the wetness as it soaks a spot on his trouser leg.

His grip on your hips loosens, but he doesn't stop whimpering, soft babbles and huffs escaping his throat as he calms down. You stroke his head, combing your fingers through his hair as your hips slow. “Good boy, you're such a good boy, Steven.” You smile brightly at him, despite the fact his eyes are still shut.

They only flutter open when he feels your hand stroking his cheek and tilting his head down.

“Are you ok, baby? How do you feel?”

His cheeks are flushed bright red still, beads of sweat sitting on his forehead from the warmth of his button-up shirt. A smile cracks across his face as he nods shyly, “I'm ok– great, yeah.. I'm great, actually.”

“You sure? I didn't hurt your feelings, did I?”

He shakes his head and tilts face to kiss your palm. “No, you didn't, love. I promise.”

His eyes drift down to the wet patch on his trousers, your eyes following as you chuckle softly.

“Should probably change…” He mumbles while resting his head on your shoulder.

“Yeah, that's probably a good idea.” You place a kiss on his neck as you embrace him, ignoring the fact that he will most definitely be late to work… again.

...........................................................................

Tags 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @minigirl87 @marisferasiop @red-hydra @summonthesoups @steven-grants-world @queerponcho @ominoose @mynamesstevenwithav @rinverse @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mooksmouse @cupidysm