#garments liquidators

[brandedsurplus]

Score Steals: The Ultimate Guide to Surplus Buying

[snakegirllegs]

It's not so much that the moon is hot or cold, but that the sun is really fucking hot. If you're on the bright side of the moon you'll be in direct line of sight with the suns radiation so your spacesuit will need to work very hard to cool you down. It's even worse if you are in a crater because you have to consider that the surface of the crater will reflect energy back at you.

If you are on the dark side you'll be obstructed from view of the sun and experience the coldness of space.

btw here's a pic of the part of the spacesuit that cools down the astronaut.

Okay be honest, because I feel really dumb right now:

(Like, am I the only one who thought it was like -80F/-60C daytime range???)

[yanderestarangel]

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻... 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝔂 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻

♡⁠┊TW — dp, anal sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, monster fuck, praise, breeedkink, afab reader, dark smut, dead dove, Ghost has two dicks here (because I chose to write it like that)

"Don't look anywhere else, look at me... I'm still your husband." The words were followed by the wet sound of the two cocks of your now radioactively-rayed husband, who looked like a monstrous anomaly — with two extra heads, two extra arms, and... two extra cocks.

You hadn't expected that in thousands of years, but when Simon came out the door completely safe and sound, looking like that was shocking and at least scary to your eyes.

Even so, you were on your hands and knees, feeling one of his cocks enter your ass while the other filled your wet pussy, making you whimper loudly as you felt his very hot and heavy balls hit your clit with the slow thrusts that the military man was giving you.

You could feel every pulsing vein of his shafts in your wet holes, the slickness between your thighs and his groin increasing. His now gray eyes were locked completely on your figure, two of his four arms gripping your waist while the other two held your wrists behind your back, ready to dominate and maneuver you as he pleased.

Hearing your moans of acceptance, his two cocks throbbed like never before, impaling you to the point where you even forgot that your partner was now a shadow of what he once was.

All that mattered in that moment was that you could take every inch of what he was giving you, as if your life depended on it—as if every fluid that came out of his cocks was a poison that made you crave more and more of him.

The slow, flesh-to-flesh pounding that had once been tender was now replaced by Simon's almost animalistic movements above you. A little drool dripped from your mouth as you could only wriggle your toes every time one of his cocks reached the tip of your womb while the other kissed limits you didn’t even know existed.

Grunts escaped his lips, muffled by the mask that was now completely part of his skin, fused to his flesh like a second garment. His fingers dug into your flesh hard enough to leave marks as a hoarse growl came from his throat, echoing like a triad through his three heads.

"Come on, sweetheart... I know you want to cum, don't deny it... cum for me." His words were tinged with the same honey that once soothed your soul. It was still him, even with that new body—and you felt yourself becoming addicted to it, like a drug, leaving you with pleasure so intense it made your system shut down.

You felt him give one final thrust, and at the same time, your pussy was filled with the warm, viscous liquid of his semen. Your other hole was filled as well, causing tears to spill from your eyes as you whimpered from how full you were. But your partner didn’t stop—Simon continued with small thrusts until he felt your inner walls drain him. One of his many hands moved to your pussy lips, slowly opening them to expose your tight slit as it swallowed his cock.

"I won’t let you leave here until I see you beautiful, full, and carrying my children in your belly... Do you understand, my angel?" His words left no room for argument, and no matter how tired you were, saying "no" wasn't an option. After all, you wanted him too, regardless of his appearance. He was still yours.

[rafayelxsylusho]

How would the lads men react the first time they see you wearing a babydoll.

TW: SMUT SMUT SMUT and more SMUT

Caleb/Xavier/Sylus/Zayne/Rafayel

CALEB 🪐

Caleb's eyes widened as they raked over your form, taking in the sheer black lace of the babydoll that clung to your curves. The dark fabric contrasted starkly with your skin, and the low neckline exposed the tantalizing swell of your breasts. Below, a tiny black thong disappeared between your thighs, drawing the eye down to your long, shapely legs.

For a moment, Caleb felt his breath catch in his throat. Desire, hot and intense, surged through his veins like liquid fire. He drank in the sight of you, his gaze burning a path down your body, lingering on the tempting expanse of skin and the way the flimsy lace hugged your most intimate places.

"Looks like I got home just in time for dinner" he breathed, his voice rougher than intended, "and it looks mouthwatering"

Caleb's heart raced as he closed the remaining distance between you, his eyes locked into yours. The air between you crackling with a tension that set your nerves alight. He could see the pulse fluttering at the base of your throat, could hear the hitch in your breath as he drew closer.

Caleb's fingers trembled slightly as he reached for the delicate straps of your babydoll. The flimsy black lace slid down your shoulders with a whisper of fabric against skin. He felt the weight of the lace cups ease, revealing the soft swells of your breasts to his hungry gaze.

His breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of you, now bared before him in the dim light of the room. The urge to touch, to feel, surged through his veins, setting his heart pounding against his ribs.

He watched your nipples pebble and tighten under his intense gaze. The sight sent a jolt of desire straight to his core, stoking the flames of his arousal. He could feel himself growing hard, his cock straining against the confines of his pants as he drank in every little reaction on your skin.

Kneeling before you, Caleb gripped and slowly slid the babydoll down your body. He took his time, savoring the way the lace skimmed over your curves, revealing more and more of your skin to his greedy eyes. The fabric slipped lower and lower until finally, it fell away completely.

Caleb gripped your hips, his fingers splaying over the dip of your waist. He leaned in, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your stomach, your ribs, the valley between your breasts. He took his time, worshipping every inch of exposed skin with lips, tongue and teeth.

"Turn around for me, sweetheart," he coaxed, his voice a low, approving rumble. "Let me see all of you."

As you spun slowly, Caleb's gaze followed the line of your body, committing every detail to memory. He felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your pert ass, the way it jutted out invitingly. His fingers itched to touch, to squeeze, to feel the soft flesh yield beneath his palms.

"Fuck," he breathed, his voice strained with desire. "You're gorgeous" He could feel his cock throbbing, hard and aching in his pants as he drank in the sight of you. The way your body moved, the play of muscle and sinew beneath smooth skin, it was enough to make a grown man weep.

His hands slid around to your front, skimming over the soft skin of your belly, the gentle swell of your breasts. He cupped the weight of them in his palms, feeling the heat of you, the way your nipples pebbled against his touch.

Caleb turned you back around to face him, his eyes dark and intense as they locked onto yours. Without breaking his gaze, he hooked his fingers into the straps of your thong, his knuckles grazing the sensitive skin of your hips. The lace dug into your flesh slightly as he tugged the garment down, inch by torturous inch the lace skimming over your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

Now, you stood completely naked before Caleb, every inch of your skin bared to his ravenous gaze. You could feel the weight of his eyes on you, could sense the desire radiating off him in waves.

"Caleb," you whispered, his name falling from your lips like a plea. A plea for his touch, for his kiss, for everything he could give you.

Caleb hooked your leg over his shoulder, his large hand gripping the back of your thigh. His eyes, dark and intense, remained locked onto your most intimate place, taking in every detail of your glistening folds. The scent of your arousal filled his nostrils, making his head swim with desire.

"Fuck," he breathed, his voice a low, reverent rumble. "Look at you, already so wet for me." His thumb brushed teasingly over your slit, feeling the slick heat of you. He could feel you shudder against him, hear the sharp intake of breath that caught in your throat.

Slowly, torturously, he parted your lower lips with his fingers, revealing the pretty pink of your inner walls. His cock throbbed almost painfully at the sight, a bead of pre-cum leaking from the tip as he took in your beauty. He wanted nothing more than to bury his face between your thighs, to taste you, to feel you come undone against his mouth.

"Tell me what you want, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr. "Tell me how badly you need my mouth on this pretty little pussy." His fingers circled your clit, applying the lightest pressure, not enough to give you the relief you craved.

"Please Caleb," you whimpered, your voice trembling with need. "Please, I need your mouth on me"

Without hesitation, he leaned in, breathing in your intoxicating scent before dragging his tongue through your folds.

"Fuck, you taste divine," he growled against your skin, his voice vibrating through your core. He licked you again, slower this time, savoring the addictive flavor of your arousal.

He focused his attention on your clit, circling the sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue before sucking it between his lips. You cried out, your head falling back as jolts of pleasure raced through your body. Caleb groaned against your skin, the vibrations only adding to your rapidly building pleasure.

Two fingers slid inside you, pumping in and out of your soaked channel. They curled to hit that special spot inside you that made stars explode behind your eyelids. You were lost in the sensation, drowning in the feeling of Caleb's mouth and fingers working in tandem to drive you towards oblivion.

"Oh god, Caleb!" You keened, your inner muscles starting to flutter around his invading fingers. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna come!"

"Cum for me, sweetheart," he commanded, his voice a low, seductive growl against your dripping sex. "Let go, baby. I want to feel you come all over my tongue."

He curled his fingers just right, rubbing that special spot inside as he flicked his tongue rapidly over your clit. He could feel your body tightening, your muscles pulling taut as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave.

With a hoarse cry of his name, you came, your inner walls clenching rhythmically around his fingers as your juices gushed out, coating his hand and chin. Caleb groaned in satisfaction, lapping up every drop of your release like a man starved.

Caleb stood up, his lips and chin glistening with your essence. He kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as he gathered you close. "You're exquisite," he murmured against your lips. "But I'm still a bit hungry, I'm so glad I got home in time for a delicious meal"

XAVIER 🌟🌟

Xavier's eyes widen as they rake over your exposed curves, lingering on the tantalizing swell of your cleavage peeking out from the lacy yellow fabric. A faint blush rises to his pale cheeks, and he swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He's trying to maintain his composure, but you can see the hunger simmering beneath the surface of his gaze.

"Well now, don't you look...enticing," Xavier murmurs, voice low and rough with barely restrained desire. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving your body as they drink in every inch of exposed skin and a teasing glimpse of what lies beneath. The air between you feels charged with tension and anticipation.

Do you like it Xavier? you ask, " I bought it just for you"

Xavier's eyes darken with lust at your words, a predatory grin spreading across his face. He rises to his feet in one fluid motion, closing the distance between you in two long strides. His calloused hands come up to rest on your hips, thumbs brushing along the lacy edges of your babydoll. He pulls you flush against him, letting you feel the hard length of his arousal press against your stomach.

"I love it," he growls, ducking his head to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. His lips find your pulse point, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "I love that you're standing here, looking like a fucking wet dream come to life."

One hand drifts lower, cupping the rounded globe of your ass through the thin lace of your panties. He squeezes roughly, fingers digging into the supple flesh. "It's going to look even better on my bedroom floor," he promises darkly, hot breath fanning over your ear.

Xavier hoists you effortlessly over his shoulder, one strong arm wrapped around your thighs. As he spins you around, your babydoll rides up, exposing the skimpy lace panties underneath. The cool air kisses your newly bared skin, pebbling it with goosebumps. Xavier's hand is on your ass, he squeezes and kneads the supple flesh, fingers dipping teasingly beneath the lace to brush against your most intimate area. Your heart pounds wildly, a thrill of anticipation and arousal rushing through you at his bold touch.

"Mmm, I can't wait to peel these cute little panties off and explore what's hiding underneath," Xavier rumbles, voice dripping with lust and promise. He carries you towards the bedroom, each step jostling you against his firm shoulder and muscular back. You squirm in his hold, your core clenching with need. Xavier just chuckles darkly, giving your rear a sharp smack. "Behave, you naughty thing. You're not going anywhere until I've had my fill of you."

Xavier tosses you onto the plush bed, your yellow babydoll riding up to fully expose your lace cheeky panties and the creamy skin of your thighs. You bounce slightly on the mattress, hair fanning out around your head, cheeks flushed and chest heaving with anticipation. Looming over you, Xavier takes a moment to drink in the sight, his eyes hungrily roaming your curves.

"What a pretty little picture you make," he murmurs, crawling onto the bed and hovering above you. His hands come down to either side of your head, fingers brushing through your hair almost tenderly before fisting in the dark strands. He drags his knee between your thighs, applying the slightest pressure, not quite touching your most intimate place but close enough to make you ache for it.

Xavier slowly peels the flimsy fabric of the babydoll up your body, revealing inch after tantalizing inch of smooth, sun-kissed skin. As the hem passes your collarbone, your hardened nipples come into view. A low, approving growl rumbles in Xavier's chest as he takes in the glorious sight of you splayed out beneath him, nearly bare and wanting.

Xavier's head dips lower, and he takes one aching nipple into his hot mouth, swirling his tongue around the stiff peak before suckling greedily. His other hand kneads and massages the soft weight of your breast, rolling and plucking at the nipple he's not attending to. Pleasure sparks through your nerves, making you arch into his touch and gasp out a breathy moan. Xavier just smirks against your skin, the vibrations sending tingles straight to your core. He's just getting started.

Xavier's fingers dip teasingly beneath the lace of your underwear, brushing maddeningly close to your aching, hidden folds. Your hips twitch upwards, chasing his touch, desperate for more. A wicked grin spreads across Xavier's face as he watches your needy reaction, clearly enjoying the control he has over your desire.

"Someone's eager," he taunts softly, fingers still toying with the delicate lace that barely covers your most intimate area. "Don't worry, I'll give you what you want...eventually."

Xavier takes his time, slowly peeling your soaked, lace underwear down your thighs. The drenched fabric clings to your folds before he finally tugs it away, baring your glistening, needy sex to his hungry gaze.

"Look at this, so wet and ready for me," Xavier growls approvingly, tossing your panties aside carelessly. He parts your thighs wider with his knees, settling between them. His calloused fingers trail up and down your slick slit teasingly, not quite touching where you need it most.

Xavier removes your babydoll, tossing it to the floor and leaving you bare and exposed beneath him. He settles between your spread thighs again, the heat of his breath ghosting over your dripping sex. Without warning, he leans in and drags the flat of his tongue along your slit, savoring your essence with a low moan. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he begins to eat you out with deep, long strokes of his tongue, lapping at your folds and delving into your entrance. He takes his time exploring every inch of your pussy, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue, but never quite touching it directly.

The teasing is exquisite torture, building your pleasure steadily as he brings you closer to the edge with his skilled mouth and tongue. Soft, filthy sounds of enjoyment rumble in Xavier's chest as he feasts on you, spurring on his enthusiastic devouring of your aching sex. Your fingers tangle in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp as you try to pull him closer, silently urging him to give you what you need, all the while, he deftly avoids your throbbing, aching clit, knowing that the slightest touch there would send you careening over the edge into ecstasy.

"Please..." you gasped out, voice ragged with need. "Xavier, please..."

Just as you teetered on the brink of exploding, your body wound tight and ready to shatter, Xavier flipped you over abruptly. He pushed your upper body down against the mattress and lifted your hips up, forcing your knees under you and leaving you presented in a needy, exposed position - hands gripping the sheets, back arched, ass high, and face pressed into the bed.

"Ah, ah, ah...not yet," Xavier tutted, giving your rear a sharp smack that echoed through the room. "You don't get to cum until I say so." His fingers slid through your dripping folds, coating them in your arousal before he brought them to your lips.

"Taste yourself," he commanded, pushing his soaked digits into your mouth. "Taste how much you want it."

As you suck your essence from Xavier's fingers, swirling your tongue around the digits and savoring your own intimate flavor, he takes the opportunity to line himself up with your entrance. With a smooth, powerful thrust of his hips, he sinks into you, stretching you wide around his thick, hard length. A guttural groan tears from his throat at the exquisite feeling of your tight, wet heat enveloping him.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," Xavier grunts, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he hilts himself fully inside you. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the sizeable intrusion, before he starts to move. His thrusts are deep and powerful, each one striking that perfect spot inside you.

The sound of skin slapping against skin and your mingled moans and grunts of pleasure fill the room as Xavier takes you hard and fast from behind. His hands come around to your breasts, kneading the soft mounds roughly.

Xavier fists a hand in your hair, gripping it tightly as he yanks your torso up and back. This new angle allows him to drive into you even harder and deeper, his hips slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust. The sudden change in position has him burying himself to the hilt with every stroke, his heavy balls slapping against your clit and sending jolts of intense pleasure through your core.

The combination of the deep, relentless thrusts striking your cervix and the intense stimulation on your clit has your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your inner walls clamp down around him like a vice as you scream your release, gushing around his pistoning length. Xavier just groans in satisfaction, fucking you through your climax 

With a final, brutal thrust and a hoarse shout of your name, Xavier buries himself to the hilt inside you. His cock throbs and pulses as he finds his release, hot ropes of his seed painting your fluttering walls. He grinds against your cervix, making sure every last drop takes root deep within your fertile womb.

"Fuck!" Xavier roars, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he holds you in place, pinning you on his still-twitching cock. His head falls back, eyes squeezing shut in bliss as the intense pleasure of his climax crashes through him.

Finally, with a shuddering breath, he slumps forward, blanketing your smaller form with his muscular body. He peppers your shoulder and neck with soft kisses, basking in the afterglow of your passionate lovemaking.

"That was...incredible," Xavier murmurs, nuzzling under your jaw. "I can't get enough of you, I'll never get enough of you." His hands roam your curves, caressing and possessive, as if he's trying to memorize every dip and swell.

"Mine," he whispers, voice rough with sated lust and adoration. "You're mine. Forever and always."

SYLUS 🐦‍⬛

You blush, but that doesn't stop you from trying on clothes. You hold up a red babydoll with black lace trim, sliding it over your curves. The short, silky fabric clings to your breasts, highlighting their shape and fullness. You turn to the side, admiring how the babydoll nips in at your waist before flaring out over your hips and ass. The black lace of the stockings contrasts with the bright red of the lingerie.

Sylus leans against the doorframe, his crimson eyes roaming over your body with undisguised hunger.

"Well, well, well...don't you look good enough to eat," he purrs, voice low and rough with desire. "Red is definitely your color, kitten. It sets off your skin beautifully." His tongue darts out to wet his lips as his eyes stay on the swell of your breasts, barely contained by the flimsy fabric.

He takes a sip of his whiskey, relishing the burn as it slides down his throat. "Beautiful," he murmurs, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. "Absolutely exquisite." His gaze lingers on the swell of your breasts, the way the babydoll clings to your hardening nipples.

You startled at the sound of Sylus' voice, whirling around to face him with wide eyes. The red babydoll fluttered around your thighs as you turned, your cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink at being caught trying on lingerie. "Sylus! You're home early..." You stammer, unconsciously tugging at the hem of the short garment. "I didn't expect you until later tonight."

Your heart races as you take in his tall, imposing figure leaning casually against the doorframe. The dim lighting of the bedroom casts shadows across his chiseled jaw and sharp cheekbones, making him look even more mysteriously handsome and a touch dangerous. You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very exposed and vulnerable in the skimpy lingerie. Yet there's an undeniable thrill that shoots through you at being caught off guard like this.

Sylus's lips curve into a wicked smirk as he pushes off from the doorframe, taking a step into the bedroom. His crimson eyes drink in every detail of your appearance, from the way the red babydoll clings to your curves to the black lace stockings hugging your long legs. He can see the surprise and slight embarrassment flashing across your face, but there's something else there too - a spark of excitement, of anticipation.

"I must say, this is quite welcoming." Sylus sets his glass down on the dresser, never taking his intense gaze off you. He starts to unbutton his suit jacket slowly, deliberately, his eyes never leaving your face. "I had no idea you were such a fan of...lingerie shopping."

With each button he undoes, Sylus takes another step closer to where you stand frozen by the bed. The air between you feels charged with a sudden, electric tension. Sylus can see the way your breathing has quickened, the rise and fall of your breasts beneath the thin fabric of the babydoll. He knows you are feeling it too - this pull, this undeniable attraction that always seems to crackle to life whenever you are in each other's proximity.

Sylus takes another step closer, now mere inches away from where you stand frozen. He reaches out a large, elegant hand to trail his fingertips along the silky fabric of the babydoll where it drapes over your shoulder. The light touch sends goosebumps erupting across your skin and you have to fight the urge to shiver.

"You look absolutely stunning, kitten," Sylus murmurs, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "The silk is exquisite...but it's nothing compared to the exquisite creature wearing it." His crimson eyes flick up to meet your gaze, a wicked gleam in their depths. "I must say, I'm quite...intrigued by your choice of attire. Were you expecting someone tonight? Planning a little rendezvous perhaps?"

Sylus's tone is playful, almost teasing, but there's an undercurrent of something darker, more possessive beneath the words. His hand slides down the silk, skimming over the swell of your breast, before coming to rest on your hip. He grips your hip possessively, his long fingers sinking into the soft flesh.

"Or perhaps..." Sylus leans in closer, until his lips are a hair's breadth from your ear. His breath is hot against your skin as he whispers, "You dressed up for me, kitten? Hoped to give me a little...welcome home present?"

He nips lightly at your earlobe, sending a jolt of sensation zinging through you. Sylus chuckles darkly at your sharp intake of breath, clearly relishing the effect he's having on you. "Tell me, did you miss me? Did you think of me while you were trying on these...provocative little garments?"

His other hand comes up to tilt your chin, forcing you to meet his heated gaze. Sylus's eyes are dark with desire, his expression one of pure, masculine hunger. "Because I certainly thought of you, kitten. Constantly. I've been...craving you."

You gasps as Sylus's hand boldly reaches down between your legs, his fingers finding the tiny patch of silk covering your most intimate area. You can feel the heat of his touch even through the flimsy fabric, and it makes you ache with a sudden, intense longing. Your body betrays your arousal as Sylus's fingers brush against your clothed slit, the silk dampening with your excitement.

You can feel the hard, muscular length of him pressed against you, the evidence of his own desire impossible to ignore. It makes you feel powerful and wanted, to know that you can affect him this way. At the same time, it's terrifying, because you know the depths of Sylus's hunger and the way he can consume you utterly.

Your back arches slightly, pressing your breasts more firmly against Sylus's chest as his fingers continue their maddening caress between your legs. You bite your lip to stifle a moan, your hips twitching involuntarily towards his touch. "I...I didn't know when you'd be home," you manage to get out, "I just...I wanted to..."

Your tongue darts out to wet your suddenly dry lips, and you look up at Sylus from beneath lowered lashes. "I wanted to look pretty for you," you confess softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I wanted you to...want me."

You let out a soft gasp as Sylus's fingers suddenly fist in you hair, gripping the silky strands and tugging your head back to expose the column of your throat. Your pulse leaps beneath his touch, racing wildly as he leans in to rasp hotly against your sensitive skin.

"Kitten, I want you all the damn time," Sylus growls, his voice a low, feral rumble that sends molten heat straight to your core. "With this flimsy scrap of silk or without it, you drive me absolutely mad with desire."

His other hand slides around to grip your ass, squeezing the firm globe and pulling you harder against the thick, rigid length of his cock. You can feel every inch of him, even through the clothing, and it makes you ache with hunger.

Without warning, he spins you around and pushes you down onto the bed, Sylus crawls over you settling himself between your splayed thighs. He looms above you one hand still fisted in your hair, the other deftly unbuttoning his shirt. The crisp fabric parts to reveal the hard planes of his chest, the muscles rippling beneath his skin.

His crimson eyes blaze with hunger as he drinks in the sight of you splayed out beneath him, the red silk of your babydoll riding up to expose the creamy flesh of your thighs. The swell of your breasts rises and falls with each shallow breath, the hardened peaks of your nipples straining against the thin material.

"Fuck, kitten," Sylus rasps, his voice rough with desire, "you have no idea what you do to me. No idea how bad I want to tear off this scrap of silk and bury myself inside your tight little cunt."

Sylus's hand slides from your hair to wrap around your throat, his long fingers curling possessively around the slender column. At the same time, his other hand tugs harshly at the crotch of your panties, the delicate fabric rending with a sharp sound.

"Such a naughty kitten," he murmurs, his voice a low, wicked rumble. "Getting this wet, this desperate...all for me."

He tears the ruined garment away, baring your glistening folds to his heated gaze. Sylus licks his lips, his eyes glinting with anticipation.

"Spread your legs wider, kitten," he commands, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. "Let me see all of you. I want to watch you come apart on my cock."

His hand tightens around your throat as the other slides between your thighs, his fingers delving into your slick heat. He strokes you slowly, maddeningly, his thumb circling your clit in a tortuous rhythm.

You let out a startled gasp as Sylus suddenly yanks the red babydoll up and over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. The cool air of the bedroom kisses your newly bared skin, making your nipples tighten into stiff peaks. You lie there, naked except for the black lace stockings, feeling vulnerable and exposed...and incredibly aroused.

"I want to fuck you just like this - with nothing but these sinful stockings clinging to your gorgeous legs." His gaze drags slowly down your body, lingering on the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the flare of your hips. "I want to see them wrapped around my waist as I drive into you again and again."

He settles himself between your thighs, the thick ridge of his clothed erection nestling against your slick folds. You can feel the heat of him, the hard, pulsing length that makes you ache to be filled.

Sylus leans down to capture one nipple in his mouth, suckling roughly as his hand kneads the soft flesh of your breast. His other hand slides down to grip your ass, squeezing the firm globe as he rocks his hips against you.

"Fuck, I love seeing you like this," Sylus rasps against your skin, his breath hot and ragged. "Spread out and waiting for my cock, desperate to be filled." He nips at your collarbone, his teeth grazing your racing pulse. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, kitten. I'm going to make you scream until the neighbors know my name."

You watch with bated breath as Sylus's deft fingers make quick work of his belt, the leather strap slipping free with a soft hiss. Your pulse pounds in your ears as he unbuttons his pants, the sound of each button popping open seeming to echo in the charged silence of the bedroom.

As the last button gives way, Sylus pushes his pants down. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, his thick cock springing free, the swollen head already glistening with arousal.

Sylus smirks at your reaction, his eyes glinting with a wicked, knowing light. "You like what you see, kitten?" he purrs, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "You like seeing what you do to me?"

He wraps a hand around his thick cock, stroking it slowly as he looms above you. The sight of him touching himself makes your core throb with need, a fresh flood of arousal dripping down your thighs.

He notches the swollen head of his cock against your entrance, the heat of him searing your slick folds. Your hips lift, trying to draw him inside, to feel that thick length splitting you open. But Sylus holds back, teasing you with the promise of his cock, denying you the satisfaction of being filled.

You reach down, spreading your legs wider to expose your glistening, swollen pussy to his hungry gaze. The sight of your dripping folds, the way your hips twitch with anticipation, is almost too much for Sylus to bear. With a low, feral growl, he grips your thighs and pushes forward, the thick head of his cock parting your slick flesh and sinking into your tight heat.

"Fuck, kitten," Sylus groans, his eyes squeezing shut at the exquisite sensation of your silken walls gripping him like a vice. "You are so fucking tight....so perfect"

He pushes forward slowly, inch by hard inch, until he's buried to the hilt inside you. You cry out, your back arching off the bed, you can feel every throbbing inch of him, stretching you, completing you in a way you never felt before.

Sylus starts to move, pulling out slowly until just the tip remains inside you, before slamming back in, setting a hard, deep rhythm. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as he fucks you, the force of his thrusts rocking the bed and making the headboard slam against the wall.

"Yes, fuck, just like that," You encourage him breathlessly, meeting each of Sylus's powerful thrusts with the eager lift of your hips.

Sylus grabs your thighs, his strong hands wrapping around them just above your knees. With a powerful flex of his muscles, he pushes your legs down, forcing your knees to your chest.

You throw your head back, a sharp cry escaping your lips as Sylus pounds into you mercilessly. You can feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock dragging along your sensitive walls, stoking the flames of your desire to a fever pitch. Your nails rake down his back, leaving red welts in their wake as you cling to him, anchoring yourself against the relentless assault on your senses.

"Oh God, Sylus!" You wail, your voice breaking with the force of your pleasure. "Don't stop...please don't stop! I'm so close...so fucking close!"

Sylus leans down, capturing one of your bouncing nipples in his mouth. He suckles hard, his teeth grazing the tender bud as he drives into you with renewed fervor. The dual stimulation of his cock pounding her G-spot and his mouth on your breast sends you hurtling towards your peak at breakneck speed.

When Sylus feels your pussy clench and flutter around his cock as you come undone, he wraps your legs tightly around his waist.

"Yes, just like that," Sylus growls in satisfaction, his hips never faltering as he continues to pound into your quivering core. "Milk my cock, kitten. Work those tight little muscles and drain my fucking balls"

Sylus keeps thrusting steadily, watching your face intently as you come down from your intense high. The sight of your flushed cheeks, hazy eyes, and kiss-swollen lips sends a surge of male pride and desire through him. He loves seeing you like this - lost in pleasure, completely at his mercy, wearing nothing but those black stockings that he finds so incredibly erotic.

He reaches down, running a finger along the lacy top of your stocking. The contrast of the delicate fabric against his rough, calloused skin is intensely arousing. Sylus hooks a finger under the lace and tugs lightly, watching it snap back against your soft thigh.

With a few more powerful, deep thrusts, Sylus finally lets go. You feels his cock throb and pulse inside you, growing even harder before he hilts himself fully inside you and starts to come.

"Fuck, kitten, fuck!" Sylus roars, his voice echoing off the walls as he starts to erupt inside you.

Sylus collapses on top of you, his hips still twitching and jerking as the last spurts of his release dribble into you. He captures your lips in a sloppy, passionate kiss. You stay locked together, panting and trembling in the aftermath of your intense coupling.

Sylus grins wickedly down at you, his eyes glinting with mischief and renewed lust. He leans in close, his lips brushing against you ear as he speaks in a low, conspiratorial tone.

"Guess we have to try more of those baby doll outfits on you, kitten," Sylus purrs, his hand sliding up your thigh to squeeze the soft flesh. "See which ones make you look the most fuckable"

ZAYNE🥼

Zayne paused at the doorway, hazel eyes widening slightly as he heard the soft, rhythmic noises emanating from within the bedroom. His gaze flicked downwards, taking in the sight of your silhouette, your body language unmistakable.

He stood there for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before a slow, amused smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Zayne leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and clearing his throat softly.

"Seems like someone's been having some pleasant dreams without me," Zayne remarked, voice low and teasing as he let his eyes roam appreciatively over you.

Zayne's smirk widened into a more genuine smile as he pushed off from the doorframe, taking a few quiet steps closer to the bed. The moonlight filtering through the window illuminated your body, your white baby doll clinging to your curves in a way that made Zayne's pulse quicken. He could see the outlines of your hardened nipples pressing against the thin see through fabric, and he felt a familiar stirrings in his own body.

"Such a pretty little sight you make," Zayne murmured, voice dripping with approval and a hint of desire. He sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to trail his fingers lightly along your thigh, feeling the smooth skin beneath the thin lace. "Though I must say, seeing you like this, all flushed and needy... it's enough to make a man want to throw caution to the wind and take what he wants."

Zayne's hand slid higher, fingertips grazing the hem of the baby doll. He leaned in closer, breath hot against the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Tell me, my heart... what sort of dreams were you having that left you in such a state? Or perhaps..." His lips curved into a wicked grin. "You were hoping your dear husband would come home and help make those dreams a reality?

"I thought you would be home earlier" you said, your face blushed with embarrassment "I wanted to surprise you"

"Is that so?" he murmured, voice low and husky. His hand slid fully under the hem of the baby doll, fingers splaying possessively over the warm, soft skin of your inner thigh. "You wanted to surprise me, hmm? Well, it seems like you've certainly succeeded, my dear."

"I must say, coming home to such a tempting sight... it's the best surprise a man could ask for," he said, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "And I intend to thoroughly appreciate this surprise, and you, all night long."

Zayne's eyes darkened with lust as he gazed intensely at you, his hand still possessively gripping your inner thigh. He leaned in closer, voice lowering to a deep, husky whisper.

"How many times? How many times did you bring yourself to that blissful edge, all while thinking of your loving husband?" Zayne's thumb brushed teasingly over your bottom lip, his gaze never leaving yours. "Tell me, did you touch yourself once? Twice? More?"

His hand slid higher up your thigh, fingertips grazing the damp lace covering your most intimate area. Zayne's breath grew heavier, the bulge in his tailored slacks becoming more evident as his arousal rose.

"I want to know every sordid detail. I want you to confess just how desperately you craved my touch, my presence. How many times did you make yourself cum, imagining it was me buried deep inside you, claiming you so thoroughly?"

"I couldn't, I needed more" You said, face so red you thought it would catch fire.

"Couldn't, hmm?" Zayne murmured, voice a low, approving rumble. "You needed more than your own touch to find true release? Needed your husband's skilled hands and hard cock to fill and satisfy you completely?"

He leaned in closer, breath hot against the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Such a greedy little thing, aren't you?"  Zayne's hand slid fully under the damp lace covering your sex. He could feel the scorching heat emanating from your core, the fabric soaked through with your arousal.

A deep, approving growl rumbled from Zayne's chest as he settled himself between your thighs, pushing them further apart to make room for his broad shoulders. He could smell your intoxicating aroma, the musky scent of your desire permeating the thin, drenched lace.

"Fuck, you're absolutely dripping, my love," Zayne groaned, voice muffled against your sex. "Soaked through these pretty little panties, all for me. Such a needy, wanton thing..."

Without warning, he leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue over your clothed slit, tasting the essence of your arousal through the flimsy barrier. He could feel the way your hips bucked involuntarily, a sharp gasp escaping your lips at the sudden contact.

Zayne smirked against your skin, hands gripping your thighs tightly as he began to eat you out with fervor. He licked and suckled at you through the drenched lace, focusing his attentions on your sensitive clit and entrance. The thin fabric provided a delicious friction, the wetness seeping through as he pleasured you with single-minded intensity.

"Mmm, you taste divine, my heart," Zayne purred, pausing briefly to speak before diving back in. "I could feast on this sweet cunt for hours... knowing I'm the reason it's so fucking wet and ready."

He could sense your growing desperation in the way you fisted your hands in his hair, nails digging into his scalp as you held him firmly against your soaked panties. The fabric, once a delicate white, was now a translucent, dripping mess, clinging to every curve and contour of your folds.

"Cum for me" Zayne commanded against your sex, his voice a low, authoritative growl that vibrated through your core. "I want to feel you explode all over my tongue, want to taste your release flooding these drenched panties."

Zayne's hands slid up to grip your ass, kneading the firm globes as he grounded his face harder against you, tongue lashing over your clothed clit with ruthless precision. He could feel your thighs beginning to quake, your body coiling like a tight spring ready to snap.

As Zayne's teeth grazed your sensitive clit through the drenched lace your body went rigid, back arching off the bed as a sharp, keening cry tore from your throat. The fabric of your panties grew instantly saturated as your release gushed forth, the thin lace no match for the force of your orgasm.

He could feel your essence flooding his mouth, the taste of your arousal exploding over his tongue. Zayne groaned in appreciation, tongue still lashing and suckling at your sensitive flesh even as you rode out the aftershocks of your intense climax.

As you came down from the euphoric high of your intense climax, you blinked away the haze of pleasure, your vision slowly coming back into focus. It was then that you noticed Zayne sitting back on his haunches, hazel eyes dark with lust and desire as he gazed up at you.

With deliberate slowness, Zayne began to unzip his fly, the sound of the zipper lowering seeming to echo in the charged atmosphere of the bedroom. Your heart racing as you watched, tongue darting out to wet your suddenly dry lips.

As his zipper reached the bottom, Zayne's hand dipped inside his boxers to fish out his impressive erection. It sprang free, thick and hard, the swollen head already glistening with beads of pre-cum. The sight of it made your mouth water and your core clench with renewed desire.

Zayne's voice was a low, seductive purr as he spoke, "You look like you want something, pretty girl... and I'm going to give it to you. I'm going to fill you so full, fuck you so deep and hard, you won't be able to walk straight for a week."

Zayne's eyes flashed with a primal hunger as he flipped you over onto your hands and knees, pushing your upper body down to press your cheek against the pillow. Your ass was now presented to him, the drenched panties riding up between your cheeks, the thin fabric cutting into your sensitive flesh.

"Keep your ass up, just like that," Zayne commanded, voice a low, authoritative growl. His large hands gripped your hips tightly, fingers sinking into the soft skin as he positioned himself behind you.

Zayne's hand slid up your spine, fingers splaying across the smooth skin of your back, holding you in place. "I'm going to fuck you now," he said, voice a low, ominous rumble.

Moving your panties to the side and with one brutal thrust, Zayne buried himself to the hilt inside your dripping core. A guttural groan tore from his throat at the exquisite, vise-like tightness that engulfed him. He paused for just a moment, savoring the feeling of your silken walls fluttering around his aching cock before he began to move.

He gripped the delicate straps of the baby doll, the thin fabric stretching taut over your shoulders as he used them for leverage to pull you back onto his pistoning cock. The lacy hem of the garment fluttered with each powerful snap of his hips, the short skirt riding up to expose more of your toned ass and dripping sex.

"Such a pretty little picture you make, bent over and stuffed full of my dick, wearing nothing but this skimpy lingerie," Zayne praised, voice a low, approving rumble.

"Tell me, is this what you were craving when you had your fingers buried in this tight little pussy?" Zayne growled, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust that made you cry out. "Did you imagine it was my thick cock stretching you open like this?"

To spur you on, he brought his palm down hard on the supple flesh of your ass, the sharp slap echoing through the room. At the same time, he pinched your swollen clit roughly between his fingers, rolling the sensitive nub and sending a jolt of pleasure-pain straight to your core.

"Come on, pretty girl. Give it to me," Zayne urged, his own release building rapidly, balls tightening as he felt you start to clench. "I want to feel you".

You let out a sharp, keening cry as your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing with the force of it.

With with a groan, Zayne yanked his throbbing cock out of your spasming sex just as his own peak hit.

"Fuck, yes! Take it, baby!" Zayne roared, fisting his dick as thick ropes of hot, sticky seed erupted from the swollen tip. He aimed the pulsing head at the taut fabric of your panties, painting the pristine white lace with streaks of his pearly essence.

Jet after jet of cum splattered across the flimsy material, the sheer amount of it quickly saturating the thin fabric. The creamy liquid seeped through, dripping down onto your ass cheeks and thighs as Zayne marked his territory, claiming you in the most primal way imaginable.

"You look so fucking hot with my cum soaking through these pretty panties."

He slid his fingers through the mess he'd made, scooping up some of the cooling seed and pushing it into your fluttering entrance. "I love you," he said softly, voice filled with deep satisfaction and adoration.

RAFAYEL🐡

Rafayel pauses mid-stroke, paintbrush hovering over the canvas as he senses your presence. His ears twitch slightly and a faint blush colors his cheeks as he catches the scent of the perfume wafting from your direction. He takes a shuddering breath, trying to compose himself before turning to face you.

His gaze drifts over your form, taking in the purple baby doll that clings to your curves. His eyes linger for a moment too long before he forces himself to look away, clearing his throat.

"I'm in the middle of something important here. This painting won't complete itself, you know."

He sets the paintbrush down with a soft clink against the palette and crosses his arms over his chest, subtly trying to hide the growing tightness in his pants. The scent of your perfume is intoxicating, making it hard for Rafayel to concentrate on anything else.

He rises from his stool, paint-splattered jeans hugging his slender frame as he takes a step closer to you. His sharp purple-pink eyes roam appreciatively over your curves, taking in every detail of the purple babydoll that hugs your figure like a second skin. The way the fabric clings to your breasts, hinting at the soft mounds beneath. How it nips in at the waist before flaring out over your hips and thighs. He licks his lips unconsciously, a flicker of hunger in his gaze.

He reaches out and runs a finger along the strap of the baby doll, tracing it from your shoulder down to where it meets the swell of your breast. Rafayel's touch lingers, thumb brushing against the side of your soft mound. His breathing grows a bit heavier as he fights the urge to pull the fabric aside and expose more of your skin to his greedy eyes.

"Do you like it Rafayel?"

He takes another step closer, now standing mere inches from your body, close enough to feel the heat radiating off your skin. His hand reaches out, fingers skimming along the hem of the purple baby doll, teasing the sensitive flesh of your thigh.

"Like it? Cutie, I more than like it... I'm absolutely crazy about it," Rafayel murmurs, his voice a low, husky rasp. His fingers inch higher, slipping beneath the fabric to caress the smooth skin of your inner thigh. Rafayel's breathing grows heavier, pupils dilating as he fights the overwhelming urge to push you up against the wall and have his way with you right then and there.

"I've never seen anything so... mouthwatering in my life," he breathes, leaning in to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. Rafayel inhales deeply, the intoxicating scent of your perfume making his head spin and his cock throb almost painfully against his zipper.

"Fuck, you smell incredible... it's driving me insane," Rafayel groans, nipping at your pulse point. His hands grip your hips possessively, pulling your body flush against his own. He grinds his hips forward, letting you feel the thick ridge of his erection.

"You're testing my restraint, Miss Bodyguard," Rafayel teases breathlessly, even as he struggles against the overwhelming urge to just take what he wants.

Rafayel's fingers slip higher and higher up your thigh, brushing against your bare pussy on the crotchless panties, he suddenly loses all semblance of control. A guttural groan tears from his throat as he realizes the delicious secret hidden beneath the baby doll. His eyes flash with unchecked lust and desperation.

"Oh, you fucking tease..." Rafayel growls, eyes flashing with unbridled desire. In an instant, he loses the last threads of his control. Gripping your thighs tightly, he hoists you up, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he pins you against the studio wall. The paintbrushes rattle in their holders from the impact.

Panting harshly, Rafayel attacks your neck with open-mouthed kisses and sharp nips, sucking dark marks into your skin as he grinds his aching cock against your exposed, dripping sex. 

"Fuck, cutie, you're so wet... is this all for me?" Rafayel rasps, fingers delving between your folds to tease your clit. He circles the sensitive nub mercilessly, feeling it swell and pulse beneath his touch. His other hand grips the back of your neck, tilting your head to the side to bare more of your throat to his greedy mouth.

Rafayel shudders as he feels your fingers brush against his stomach, traveling lower to hook into the waistband of his jeans. The zipper rasps loudly as you slowly drag it down, inch by inch. Rafayel's chest heaves with each labored breath, his heart hammering wildly in anticipation.

As soon as the last of the buttons come undone and the zipper is fully lowered, Rafayel wastes no time shoving his jeans and boxers down his long, slender legs. The clothes pool around his ankles, leaving his throbbing erection spring free. It juts out proudly, the thick shaft flushed a deep, angry red and leaking copious amounts of precum.

He bucks his hips forward, the swollen head of his cock catching on your slick folds and slipping through them teasingly. The contact makes Rafayel hiss through clenched teeth, fingers digging into the soft globes of your ass.

Rafayel's eyes rake over the crotchless panties, taking in how they frame your glistening sex perfectly. A wicked grin spreads across his face as he considers his options, a dark gleam in his eyes. His fingers dance along the edge of the fabric, teasing your sensitive flesh.

"Mmm, as tempting as it is to leave these cute little panties on while I fuck you senseless, I think I'd rather see them ripped to shreds," Rafayel purrs, voice low and husky with desire. 

" But I think we will leave them on, for now...."Without warning, he grips the flimsy fabric tightly and tugs your hips forward, lining the swollen head of his cock up with your entrance.

Rafayel growls, eyes locked with yours as he starts to push forward. The thin fabric stretches taut around his thick length as he sinks into your tight, slick heat inch by excruciating inch.

"Fuuuck, you feel incredible..." Rafayel moans, head falling back as he hilts himself fully inside you. The sensation of your walls clenching and fluttering around him is almost too much to bear. He has to take a moment to collect himself before he starts to move.

Slowly, Rafayel begins to withdraw until just the tip remains inside, before slamming back in with a grunt of pure, unadulterated pleasure. He sets a hard, fast pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the studio as he takes you with wild abandon.

The flimsy panties stretch and strain around his pistoning cock, the fabric growing damp and clinging to his skin. Rafayel reaches down and rips away one of the straps, letting it dangle freely as he continues his relentless assault on your pussy.

"Take it, fucking take it!" Rafayel snarls, fingers sinking into the meat of your ass as he yanks your hips forward to meet his thrusts. The thin fabric of the panties bunches and twists around his shaft, the sensation driving him wild with lust.

He leans in and captures your lips in a bruising kiss, all tongue and teeth as he plunders your mouth. Rafayel's other hand reaches up to grope and squeeze the supple flesh of your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers.

Breaking the kiss, Rafayel buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as he loses himself in the intoxicating scent of your arousal. The perfume mingles with the musky aroma of sex, overwhelming his senses and spurring on his increasingly erratic movements.

Rafayel's breath hitches as he reaches up to drag the thin straps of the baby doll down your shoulders. The purple fabric pools around your waist, baring the creamy expanse of your chest to his greedy gaze. Unable to resist, Rafayel leans down and draws one of your stiff peaks into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

"Mmmph..." Rafayel groans around the tender flesh, suckling greedily as he continues to pound into your dripping core. The dual sensations of his hot mouth on your nipple and the relentless pace of his hips driving into you has you seeing stars.

All the while, Rafayel's hips never cease their relentless rhythm, the flimsy remains of your panties rubbing deliciously against his shaft with each roll and grind of his pelvis. The stimulation is almost too much to bear, pushing you both closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Rafayel snarls, voice strained with exertion and desire. Without warning, he spins you around and tosses you onto the plush armchair in the corner of his studio. The sudden movement makes the paintbrushes and palettes on his easel clatter to the floor.

Before you can react, Rafayel is on top of you, wedging himself between your splayed thighs. He hooks your knees over his elbows and pulls your hips forward, impaling you on his thick cock in one swift, brutal thrust.

"Fuck, yes..." Rafayel groans, eyes fluttering shut as your scorching heat engulfs him again. He starts to move, hips rolling and snapping against yours in a relentless rhythm. The new position allows him to drive even deeper, the swollen head of his cock kissing your cervix with each powerful surge.

The sensation of the rough, tattered lace rubbing against his shaft as he fucks into your sopping wet cunt is exquisite, pushing him closer to the brink of climax.

As Rafayel's fingers find your throbbing clit, he rubs the sensitive nub in tight, quick circles. The added stimulation proves too much for you to withstand, and with a sharp cry, your body goes rigid as a powerful orgasm crashes over you.

Rafayel roars, feeling your velvety walls clamp down around him like a vice. The sight of you lost in the throes of ecstasy, your tits bouncing enticingly with each powerful thrust, combined with the obscene sensation of the tattered panties rubbing against his shaft is enough to be Rafayel's undoing. With a last, brutal surge of his hips, he buries himself to the hilt inside your quivering pussy.

Rafayel screams, eyes rolling back in bliss as thick ropes of his seed paint your clenching walls. His cock pulses and throbs, pumping what feels like an endless stream of cum deep into your hungry cunt.

He collapses on top of you, hips still twitching and jerking as the last weak spurts of his climax dribbles out. He peppers sloppy kisses across your neck and collarbone, panting harshly against your sweat-slicked skin.

"Now let's get these pesky clothes out of the way," Rafayel says, he sits up and practically tears the flimsy baby doll off of your body, casting it carelessly to the side. The ruined panties follow shortly after, leaving you bare and exposed to his hungry gaze.

"Let's take this to the bedroom cutie, I'm not done with you yet".

[kitten4sannie]

ateez and corruption kinks… that’s it I just had to let that out into the void

communion

pairing: priest! yunho x nun! reader (fem)

summary: priest jeong wishes to share another communion with the most beloved member of the monastery.

wc: 1.1k

warnings: for the love of god (lol) if sacrilegious smut isn’t your thing do NOT read this,, however if it IS wellll i got something good for you <3, wine drinking, but like, in an unconventional way lmao, nasty perverted dom! yuyu, subby cock hungry! reader (can we blame her tho?), implied sex slave training, oral (giving/receiving), deepthroating, finger sucking, cum eating, implied toy usage (the toy is um….well…a religious object…)

a/n: oh nonnie idt you realize what you’ve unleashed with that ask ^^ there’s nothing i love more than corruption 🖤 physical, emotional, psychological ughhhh,,, anyways writers block and some shitty real life stuff have been taking turns beating me up the past couple months so i thought this might be a good escape for me :3 i hope you enjoy <33

p.s: i’ll be posting two more fics with a corruption theme very soonnn,, one features perverted bsf wooyoung and the other involves frat boy sannie 🫶🏼

song rec: take me to church - hozier (i mean come on….)

No matter how dark the communal church grew in the late hours of the night, the bright light of the moon still shone through the fragmented mosaic glass, now casting a myriad of gleaming crosses across your face and body as you sat on your knees upon the altar. You raised your hands up to begin worshipping your Lord in the way you were taught by Father Jeong, gingerly opening his robes to unveil the point of your focus.

Yunho lifted up a ceremonial bell and rung it once, his robes pooling around his feet, watching as your thighs squeezed tightly together underneath your heavy garments, your shaky exhale fanning over his exposed, twitching cock, finding the unyielding look of pure lust inside your eyes to be so beautiful he could shed a tear. Over the many, many communions you’ve shared together, it seemed that the bell reminded you of your loyalty to him and to your shared savior, of the pleasure you shared all in the name of God.

He pushed your veil off to expose your hair, before he placed his large hands on either side of your head, his long, slender fingers wrapping securely around it. “And, what do we say now, Sister L/N?” he asked softly, as though he were testing you, dragging his tongue over his top set of teeth, letting out a few heavy breaths.

“O’ Lord, for which I am about to receive, is truly your most precious Body and your life-giving blood, which, I pray, makes me worthy to receive for the remission of all my sins and for everlasting life,” you recited your prayer like many times before, the wetness between your thighs everlasting, watching Father Jeong let go of your head for a second to pick up a chalice of wine from the ceremony table behind him.

Yunho held the gold chalice just above his waist, growing that much harder as the dark liquid began to pour down his long, curved length, spilling off of his sticky tip and dripping into your open mouth. “The Blood of Christ…” He watched you swallow it all down, like the obedient servant you were. Something this sinful simply had to be holy, didn’t it? He swallowed down the abundant saliva that filled his mouth. “Ahh?” he voiced, like he was waiting for you to say something.

“Amen,” you sighed out, licking the remnants of wine and pre-cum from your lips, your trembling fingers clasping around his bare hips.

“Amen.”

Yunho then thrusted forward until he hit the back of your parched throat, eagerly dragging you back and forth along his sizable cock, using you like the faithful cocksleeve you were, the repetitive sounds of squelching, gagging, and muffled moaning sending delightful shivers down his spine, much like the sacred hymns did to him every morning during mass. “Sister L/N, your throat has molded to the shape of my cock, has it not? Bonding with me all these long nights, over and over, it’s like you were made for me, and only me. Tell me, Sister, does taking the Body of Christ down your throat make you feel closer to God?”

You let out a stunted, pleased moan, blinking a few tears out of your dazed, half closed eyes, watching as a blurry version of Father Jeong brought his rosary up to his lips to kiss it. Due to being trained so consistently, you knew to relax your jaw and throat in order to take all of him without fail, your gag reflex nonexistent, simply drooling all over his long, heavy cock instead, much to Yunho’s delight.

“Oh, God, let His will be done….” He hunched over slightly, in order to pound himself into the back of your throat over and over, thick strands of pre-cum and saliva dripping from your chin and landing onto your previously pristine garments, his fingers closing in around your bulging throat to feel himself moving inside it. It was simply too much for the priest to handle. “So…nnngh–sovereign, so pure, this divinity…” Yunho expressed between heavy pants, suddenly pulling out until his twitching cockhead rested against your splayed out tongue. “Sister L/N, you must show me something heavenly so that I may fill you with the Holy Spirit. Be quick, for I am at my limit…”

Licking the beads of pre-cum from his slit, you began to lift up the layers of your tunic until your bare cunt glistened underneath the moonlight that was casted over you like a spotlight, the edges of your skin glowing as though you were a real life angel, one that was sent down from above to tempt Yunho, especially now that he could see you in your most vulnerable state. “Father Jeong, please see what I’ve done for you. I’ve kept myself full…so that I may take you inside properly…”

It was then that Father Jeong fell to his knees before you, looking up at the slick heaven in between your thighs, before leaning in to lap up the abundant wetness from your lips, his hot tongue practically melting against your cunt as he ate you out like a starved man, spreading your open with his ringed thumbs. Maintaining steady eye contact with you, he slowly pulled the hood of your clit back to expose your weak point, wrapping his plush lips around it as he began to suck and lick until he had you trembling above him, your nails digging into the dense wood of the pews. “Cum before me,” he commanded, dragging his tongue along your fluttering slit up to your throbbing clit until you let out a beautifully broken cry.

You spread your trembling thighs open just enough to allow what was filling you up the entire time to slowly come sliding out, both you and the priest letting out a similar gasp once it did. A thick, slick-covered silver cross landed inside Yunho’s open palm. He watched diligently as you lifted it up to his mouth, not even having to say anything as he sucked it clean. Without exchanging words, Yunho stood back and squeezed his throbbing cock, just as you lowered yourself back down onto your knees with a loving smile, watching with pride as he began to shudder, long spurts of his hot cum landing onto your tongue and disappearing down your throat.

“What a thing of beauty….” The priest swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath. “You never fail to bring me close to our Savior, my dear,” he praised, reaching down to rub the remaining remnants of his seed over your swollen lips and onto your tongue with his thumb, pulling it away from your mouth and licking the last of his saltiness off of his digit himself.

“It’s all for the greater good,” you softly replied, slowly standing up and hiking up your now soiled garments, so that you could bend over the pew, spreading yourself wide, opening the gates of your heaven and giving Yunho access like every blissful night before. “Now, please allow me to bring you even closer.”

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[luvether]

۫ ꣑ৎ . HIS ULTRAVIOLENT PROSE. mydei

summary, even with half-bitten pomegranates between tongue, teeth and heart, the prince of Kremnos tries to make amends with you.

mydei x gn!reader. mildly lovers to enemies. tension and arguments. hurt with comfort. mentions of arranged marriage and eloping (love this trope with him) soft and gentle mydei, might be ooc. lore-inclined city-state ceremonies. [2.0k wc]

It’s merely an alliance ceremony.

And yet here you were, being dressed in foreign silks and heavy accessories. Compared to your usual attires the fabrics are lightweight, enough for a cold rush to scrape your skin despite the torch lit by the corner of your room.

Your face must’ve betrayed you, for the maidens that attended to you murmured about it being part of Kremnoan traditions and that you had to endure it, only with such a solid statement do you deflate, settling stiffly and defeatedly on the chair, allowing them to continue their decorations on you, to peel you bare of your sea-state city garments and pool Castrum Kremnos‘ silk clothes, sandals and cape over you.

At this very moment, you looked like a raw and beguiling warrior, a far cry of what you truly were, an ignorant coward.

“You look beautiful.” A more elderly woman speaks from behind, you stare at her through the vanity.

“…I look like a fighter.”

“Are you not?”

You hesitate to answer her, biting your lip to prevent yourself from speaking something you might regret.

Are you still labeled a fighter after losing your city to Castrum Kremnos?

You were anything but triumph, you lost your kingdom, your pride, your people—and only this alliance union can salvage whatever scraps of glory you have left, it's the only thing you could do for your folks since you disappointed them as their leader.

The elder woman’s hand lands softly on your shoulder, despite such a gentle manner you cannot help the flinch from echoing through your bones. Your nails bury into your palms.

“I assure you, young one, that shame is the last thing Castrum Kremnos would dare to offer you and your city-state.”

She pauses.

“Our prince would not dare such a thing from you.”

You wanted to laugh, to cry and scream and ruminate frustrations. But you swallow instead, “I see.”

You did not utter another word after that. The maidens have left long ago and you pondered with your own thoughts, recounting the gradual yesterdays you spent mourning over fallen friends and a broken city. You recounted tidbit memories of the remaining council that pushed you for this alliance—forcing you to succumb and kneel towards the very people that took your everything.

After all, as the last remaining royal blood, that’s the least you can do.

The Kremnos’ heavy bells finally billow, and you inhale sharply.

“It’s time for you to step into the ceremony hall, lord.”

And you stand, your heart heavy with pressure. When you followed a counselor towards your destination, the older man gave you a quick rundown of certain rules and traditions you needed to adhere to, you half-listened to the convoluted rules until the very last statement that catches your attention,

“At the end of the blessings, you are to share a cup of pomegranate juice with the one you are to join alliance with.” he starts,

“In this case, you are to drink from the same cup with the representative of our city, Kremnos’ prince Mydeimos.”

His name is an echo through the shell of your ears, leaving a bitter aftertaste between your teeth. You stopped listening after that, until you both faltered at the end of the corridor.

Your heart is pounding in your chest when the large, looming doors split open, by now, the hall is packed and standing at the very front was the ceremony priest and Mydeimos himself, awaiting your arrival. When you step beside him on the podium, your gaze dare not shift towards the prince.

You let the withered voice of the priest wander you through the prayer, he lifts an iron chalice brimming with liquid as red as blood—you watch quietly as he lifts a smaller glass of honey, letting the golden liquid pool into the red cup before blessing the drink.

The priest turns to you, with a nod he beckons you to mirror the oath spoken. With parted lips, you follow along, pledging allegiance and alliance to Castrum Kremnos, “And with the glory of Strife and blood intertwined in allegiance with Castrum Kremnos, I, the succeeding lord of my city shall share the same devotion of valorous death before glorious return.”

You tilt your chin, lips pressed against the iron. The tangy yet thickly sweet taste of pomegranate rinses through your tastebuds. When the red liquid hits the middle line, you retract, turning towards the direction of the prince.

You look at him, only to find his heavy resin eyes already on you.

Mydeimos’ blank stare traces every bare action you do, and for a split moment you try to hold his weighty stare, trying to dissect his expression—trying to see what he thinks of the whole thing, and yet you find none.

You’ve dropped your gaze then, before extending the chalice in his direction. You slightly stir when you feel his fingertips brush your knuckles, you are quick to let go when he grabs ahold of the cup—too quickly.

How audacious, you cannot help but wonder when the priest speaks the same oath to him, Mydeimos recites it but his eyes never stray from you. Truly, he’s like a prowling lion assessing its prey.

There’s a prickling sensation of self-consciousness with such a look pinned on you.

“And with the glory of Strife and blood intertwined in allegiance with Castrum Kremnos, I, Mydeimos the succeeding prince of my city shall share the same devotion of valorous death before glorious return…” he rasps, then he downs the remainder within the chalice, his golden eyes still on you.

You cannot help yourself but settle your gaze on his exposed collarbones, laddering your way up the column of his neck where you watch the way his adam’s apple bobs at the swallow of the juice, a few clumsy droplets run down his jaw before he retreats and wipes it with the back of his hand.

The bells sound once, then twice at the successful union but your mind is a flurry of thoughts, though all of them stop at one concluding statement, you desperately need to get out of the banquet hall.

So when you’re finally released from your duties, instead of lingering and talking with the folks you spin around towards the exit. Nobody seemed to bat an eyelash at your hasty departure, nor was there anyone in the hallway outside which allowed you to break into a sprint—you don’t know where you’re going, quite frankly the layout of the city is still foreign to you, but you needed to get out of there.

At the fall of your impatient footsteps, you barely hear another set chasing after you.

Only until you feel larger hands gripping your waist do you stop.

“Where do you think you’re running off to?” You don’t need to turn to know who was speaking, the plates of his half-naked front are pressed hard against your back, it acted like a furnace almost.

“Unhand me.” You try to sound casual but it ends up in a bite. “This instant, Mydeimos—“

“And what?” He challenges back. “Let you run around like a headless goose until one of the counselors finds you? Do you wish for trouble that much?”

Instead of answering, you try to pry his hands around your waist. Your attempts are obviously futile however you are wracked with frustrations, fury and confusion. Your actions only fueled the prince’s impatience.

“Quit squirming—“

“Then let me go!” You try to glare at him. “I wish to be anywhere but in your arms right now—“

That must’ve struck a nerve.

Mydeimos’ grip on you only tightened, he pulls you towards an empty corner between the heavy flaps of curtains and presses you against the wall. His hand grips your jaw—but despite such a harsh action his hold on you remains feather-light, gentle.

His face draws close to your own, until you can feel his raspy voice on your cheek. At this distance, you can smell his scent of bonfire, tender smoke and something sweet, like pomegranates, he smelled awfully fruity.

“Says the one that wishes to marry me, isn’t that what you confessed to me months before?”

The jab brings heat to your cheeks, you lift your hand with the intent to slap him but Mydeimos captures your wrist before your palm could collide with his cheek. His thumb runs up from your wrist to your palm, intertwining your fingers together and laying it on the wall beside your head, his bangs brush your forehead, face so, so close that if you tilted your head your lips would be brushing his own,

“You wanted to elope with me.” Mydei tells you. “Have you forgotten? Or do you wish for me to tell you the exact words you told me that day.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, this was before my city was attacked by your warriors!”

The tension hangs gauche, the silence between the two of you almost unbearable. The man before you sighs heavily, “There are a handful of things that are at my disposal, even with the title of prince—the issues of prophecies is something I cannot control.” Mydei soothes a thumb over the pulse in your wrists.

“You of all people are aware of this fact.” he pauses. “Or maybe you weren’t, after all the sea-side states are nonbelievers, you and your people don’t revere the Titans, only the arithmetics and logarithms of the world.”

“You're right, I wasn’t.” You snap. “I did not know Castrum Kremnos was prophesied to destroy my home, Mydeimos. If I had known, I wouldn’t have uttered such preposterous words to you, I was made out to be an ignorant fool because of it.”

Mydeimos’ whole demeanor takes a polar shift, you’re unsure why those eyes had melted like butter, was it your shaky voice, the pitiful wallow in your tone? Or did he truly feel an ounce of empathy for your situation?

“You're not an ignorant fool.” He lets go of your wrist but his body remains pressed up against your own, despite the position his body heat grounded you, especially with his follow up of, “to me, you’re the wisest person I know. A leader with a heart of gold, I apologize for causing you so much agony and for being unable to aid you when you need it most.”

He takes your hand, smearing his lips against your knuckles. “I wish to make amends with you but if you hold such vengeance in your heart—” he tugs your wrist, digging your fingers to his chest just above his heart. “You can scratch my heart out and kill me, stab me in the back for as long as you want if it means your desires would be satiated, then so be it.“

“…Mydeimos.” To say you were shocked was an understatement.

He softly bumps his forehead with your own. “Do you hate me, kardia mou?”

This was the very reason why you fell for him, the prince from the city of warriors. Despite the harshness of his textures and tones, when it came to you, he was honest and open. Those universal stone-cold expressions fissure as soon as he sees a glimpse of you in the distance. He spoke in uncharacteristic gentleness and his fleeting skinships sent butterflies within your chest. You cannot be angry with him, much less hate when he acts like this.

You feel him interlace your fingers, weaving his own with yours. Then he leans down once again, pressing his lips against the corner of your mouth, the intent of apology willing to spill from the nonexistent gaps between the two of you. “I’m sorry.”

Your eyes turn glassy. Maybe it was due to Mydeimos’ comfort that every drowning pressure that you’ve bottled up comes cracking at the seams.

A sob spills between your lips.

“I don’t hate you, Mydei.” Your voice trembles when he tips your chin towards him, brushing his thumbs over the tear staining down your cheeks. “Truthfully, it is I that I loathe the most, not you—never you.”

“So please, never say that I find thrill in killing you.”

Mydei’s hand comes tangling through your tendrils, you weep on his collarbones, his woody scent engulfing you in comfort.

“I’m so sorry.” He repeats. “I’ll never speak of such a thing to you, so cease your cryings, my love.”

[specshroom]

•The Queen of Curses•

Part 1 / Part 2

(CW: It's smut bro. Sukuna has two dicks, pp in vagina, pp in ass, They fuck in the curse blood bath, cunnilingus, fingering, cervix fucking? Idk. )

The Queen of Curses tries her best to be as nonchalant as possible as she's being escorted to the curse blood bath meant to reguvinate her body to it's full strength. Anybody would struggle to stay nonchalant if they could feel the gaze of the King of Curses trained on their body. She's surprised he can't smell the need flowing off her from where he walks, a few feet behind her. Uraume definitely can with the way the woman's perked nipple presses into the sorcerer's arm and the way her flushed skin radiates heat. 

As they reach their destination a few steps above the giant pool, the woman turns to her husband and bows dramatically.

"Please you first, My king" she says with a grin.

Sukuna scoffs at his wife's antics, crossing two arms over his chest as the other two go to undo the string keeping his baggy white pants up. The article drops to the floor and his wife isn't bashful about taking in all her husband has to offer as he walks past her into the huge pool of dark liquid. 

She looks to her subordinate who is already kneeling on the ground folding up Sukuna's forgotten pants. Taking the opportunity she steps towards them and says. 

"Uraume, would you mind helping me undress?"

Uraume stands up without a word. When they stand to full height their head only comes up to their masters cleavage, something that was always very amusing to the woman. 

Uraume's delicate fingers go to the knot tying their masters kimono around her body. They gently loosen the knot until it unwraps and the loosened clothing exposes her whole front to them. Uraume isn't surprised at all by the fact that their master isn't wearing anything under her kimono. 

"AY, hurry it up!"

Sukuna yells from where he sits in the waist high blood. The woman clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes. 

"So impatient."

she scoffs to Uraume before shrugging the kimono off her shoulders till it falls to the ground. She walks down the steps towards the pool as Uraume kneels again to fold the long silky piece of fabric. They know that neither of their masters will need their garments any time soon. 

Sukuna stands up as his wife steps into the pool, dark droplets falling from his sculpted frame. Where Uraume only makes it up to their masters breasts, she barely makes it to Sukuna's shoulders.

She looks up at him through her lashes as she gets closer, so close her tits graze against his crossed arms. 

She slowly reaches out to caress the skin of her lover, following the inked lines up his waist. She keeps following the dark lines until she gets to the pair of crossed arms, encourage them to uncross and bringing them to her waist. Sukuna starts rubbing his fingers into her lower back just the way she likes. She traces the black patterns higher up his chest, along his neck until she cups both sides of his face. 

She delicately runs her fingers against the deformed side of his face, caressing the massive beast as if he's made of porcelain. He grasps the wrist of the hand that so gently touches him, holding it still as he leans into her palm. The two hands on her waist pull her body closer, he closes his eyes and breaths her in. 

"why so soft all of a sudden?" 

he mumbles against her tattooed wrist, it didn't sound as teasing as he wanted it to. 

She smiles at him. 

"Because I'm your wife."

 She says lowly, half lidded eyes staring into his soul... If he has one. The curse king stares back with just as much reverence, they move closer until their noses are touching, breaths mixing. 

She suddenly pushes him away hard enough to make him lose balance and fall ass first into the thigh deep blood they're standing in. When his head resurfaces he sees his wife doubled over laughing, clutching her stomach.

The man growls in anger. Why must the woman he loves be so irritating? 

"Hahahaha! Uraume did you see tha- ah!"

Sukuna grabs his wife while she's gloating, pulling her closer to him by her thighs. One hand on the upper thigh, one on her ass, one on the other knee, pulling it over his shoulder and the last one around her ankle holding her in place. Finally his face is exactly where he's wanted it to be for a thousand years now, just a few inches away from her warm cunt.

He looks up at her with four angry eyes.

"You play around too much, woman."

She looks down at him from between her breasts which move up and down with her short breaths. Having him so close to where she needs him the most is making something in her stomach heat up.

"You think I can't tell how much you want me right now? You think I don't know you crave me just as much as I crave you?" 

She grabs at his hair and shuffles in his hold. She can feel his breaths on her cunt, her need is overwhelming. She tries pushing his head to finally make contact with her needy pussy but he doesn't budge, grinning up at her while he nuzzles the side of his face into the flesh of her thigh. 

"Mhm. I can be a tease too, baby."

She lets out an irritated huff. 

"Ryo, if you don't eat me out right now I swear-"

She pauses, not knowing what to say while her husband looks at her with a shit eating grin, cocking his eyebrows up for her to continue. 

"I won't suck either of your dicks."

She says with finality as if she didn't just come up with that on the spot. She crosses her arms over her tits, all proud of herself.

Sukuna chuckles, she can feel the breathy laugh on her cunt. She involuntarily clenches around nothing and her posture hunches a little.

"Well damn baby, that's all you had to say."

 He says before finally. Finally. diving his head in between her plush thighs. Licking one big stripe up her cunt to her clit before settling on a rhythm of eager lapping and sucking. The pleasure is instant as she hunches over and curls her fingers in his short fluffy hair.

The groan she lets out is so gutteral it makes him moan into her pussy. Safe to say, even after so many years he hasn't lost his touch. He keeps going at it as she grinds back into his mouth. The hard malformed part of his face scrapes against her thigh but she's always liked it. It reminded her exactly who was making her feel so good. 

"Ahh, Ryo" She groans into the night air as her husband holds up her whole body without any struggle, getting perfect full access so he can get his tongue as deep inside her as possible. She places a foot on his shoulder granting him even easier access, hands still tugging his hair.

He squeezes her ass and gropes at her thigh pulling her impossibly closer like he can never get enough of her. By the higher pitched noises she's making and the way her thighs tense up around his head, he can tell she's already on the edge of orgasm, about to reach her peak. 

He suddenly unlatches her legs from his shoulders and reaches up, grabbing her by the neck to pull her down into a harsh kiss. Her entire body gets pulled down so that she's straddling him now, blood coming up to just under her breasts. She struggles in the kiss, kicking at him and reeling from her ruined orgasm while Sukuna grins into the kiss.

She bites at his lips and he just kisses back with equal intensity. When her animalistic growls give way to a pitiful whine, he releases her from the kiss. Her nails dig into the wrist of the hand still around her throat. Drawing blood that drips down and mixes with the blood of hunreds of other curses. 

"You fucking bastard." 

She snarls at her supposed lover. He chuckles menacingly at her, very much enjoying the rageful passion she spits at him. That part of her is what made him fall in love with her in the first place after all. 

"Aww, poor baby."

Sukuna coos in the most patronising manner possible. The look of absolute rage on his wife's face makes him surprised the blood around them isn't at boiling point. She thrashes around in his grip, grunting, pushing, splashing, fighting against her horrible husband's hold. Sukuna just holds onto her tighter, never holding up, like she's his life force and if he lets go he'll die. 

She yells out in frustration and anger which is when Sukuna thinks it's the perfect time for the fat toungue of the mouth on his stomach to lick a hard long strip up her whole pussy. She instantly stills as her breath hitches. 

Sukuna brings his hand to her jaw making her look him in the eyes again as he thrusts the large tongue into her. The stretch makes her hiss and tense up. The initial sting quickly grows into euphoria, the feeling of the huge tongue moving against her walls is a pleasure that is indescribable. 

As her moans get louder and her eyes roll back, she almost loses herself again in the feeling but quickly shakes her head and looks at her husband with an intense glare. 

"You better make me cum this time, Ryo" 

She says in a raspy voice, the man in question grins as if he's innocent and replies back. 

"Of course, anything for My Queen."

She groans, not appreciating his teasing at all. 

"I'm serious, I'll kill you. I'll kill you if you do that again-"

Her ernest death threats are rudely interrupted by Sukuna shoving two of his fingers in her mouth. The other hand holds her jaw up for better access. Her dark eyes still trained on his, fingers wrapped around his wrist. 

"I said I will." 

He says, the teasing tone replaced with something deep and honest like a promise to her. 

The Queen takes a moment to admire her devoted partner before she allows herself to lose her mind on his tongue. 

Sukuna slowly thrusts his two fingers into his wife's mouth, loving the way her tongue flattens out to lick his fingers as he thrusts. He brings his other hand that's not holding her down on his tongue to press gently into her unoccupied hole.

She groans at the new sensation of having her ass played with as Sukuna slowly moves to thrust a finger inside. He lowers the hand on her jaw to fondle and squeeze at her tits. 

The woman is in absolute euphoria, her eyes flutter shut as her tongue lols out, spit messing down Sukuna's wrist and her chin. So many different places being stimulated. So many areas of pleasure. It's so overwhelming, it's no wonder she's already almost there again. 

She opens her eyes to stare at her husband, they always liked looking into eachothers eyes when they cum. She only gets louder and needier as Sukuna uses multiple hands to dutifully work her up to her climax. Sukuna brings two hands to her hips and thrusts her down hard on his tongue right as he thrusts it up so deep into her. She uncontrollably clenches hard as she comes undone on his massive tongue, loving every second he gives her. 

Sukuna takes his fingers out of her mouth to kiss her sloppily as she rides out the high. It takes a while for her to come down but once she does she's wrapping her arms around her husbands neck, pushing her body as close to him as it can be while kissing his neck.

"I missed you."

she whispers in between the soft kisses. Sukuna feels his heart and dicks pulse.

"I noticed." 

He grins cockily, the expected response from a bastard like him. 

"Yeah? Well I missed them too."

She murmured against his lips, shuffling her leg so that it grazes the two hard shafts below her. The King grins at her and waists no time hauling her up, pressing her close to his chest. He walks towards the edge of the giant pool and rests her down on the edge.

She leans back on her hands, legs spread wide for him to stand in between them. She admires her husband's imposing frame as he admires how she openly flaunts her body to him. 

Sukuna then holds both her legs right under the knee and brings them to either side of her chest so that his pretty wife is bent in half for him. Said wife lightly moans at the position he's chosen, shes basically presenting her pussy to him. She lets out another louder moan when she feels his two heavy cocks graze against her wet puffy pussy. Sukuna brings his face close to hers so he can see her face clearly as he rubs his cocks up and down her cunt. 

"You ready?" 

He asks, knowing full well that she most definitely is with how slick her hole is. She nods looking into his eyes. 

"Put it in then"

He says lowly, it was meant to be an order but there's just a hint of a plead in there. She reaches down between them to line up his two cocks to their respective holes. She holds them there so that Sukuna can slowly tease them into each entrance. Once the mushroom heads pop in, they both weakly moan. She moves her hand to grab his waist to ease him forward, gradually burying his cocks deeper into her. Once he's halfway in she presses on his waist to make him still, letting herself adjust. 

"Cmon, ease up baby." He mumbles, caressing her hips, waist and thighs soothing her body so that she's not so tense. He gives her neck kisses and eventually she eases up enough, pulling him forward again by the waist. Both of his fat cocks bottom out and the two lovers are in absolute euphoria. Chest to chest, arms clutching around eachother. They sit there for a minute, foreheads touching so they can stare into eachothers eyes. Neither of them meant for this to be so sincere but they truly just missed eachother so damn much and it's overwhelming. 

Sukuna adjusts, getting in a better position where his knees are bent and his whole body is hunched over his wife's in a mating press like position. This gives him much better leverage to slowly pull out, indulging in his wife's cute whines before he slides a pair of hands around her lower back and slams right back into her. 

The hands under her back lift her hips up slightly and it's such a perfect angle, allowing him to go as deep as possible. Feeling every inch of him in both her holes is making her go crazy. They both are so loud when they fuck, the sounds of their moans and the fast plap plap plap of their skin echos through the otherwise silent atmosphere.

"Ah! Squeezing me so tight, you're already gonna cum? Fuck!"

Sukuna tries to sound cocky but miserably fails. She can't even respond, she's been lost in the pleasure since he started thrusting. His grip on her thighs and waist tighten as she tightens around both of his cocks, so close to release. He has no idea how he hasn't cum yet but he's getting so desperate humping into her almost like a dog. The clenching and shaking is too much for him, he's gonna- 

"Fill me up, Ryo."

She whispers to him, tired eyes still looking up at him. With that, he cums hard and fast, shooting strong ropes of cum into her pussy and ass. Her eyes squeeze shut as the feeling of being filled up so well in both holes roughly pushes her over the edge. It's a feeling she'll never get used to.

 It takes a while for her to come down from the high, her fingers ease the grip she had on his newly bruised skin. Sukuna is lazily sucking on her neck, licking at the sweaty skin. Hes laying all his weight ontop of her, good thing she isn't a mortal woman or she'd be crushed under his monster weight. She feels him soften inside her and grins, a devious plan cooking up in her evil brain. 

"Hmm, Ryo?"

"Hmmm"

His head doesn't leave the crook of her neck as she rubs his back. 

"Do you think I can still fit both of them in my pussy?"

He halts. She's built up enough energy to roll the tired man onto his back and sit up in a single quick motion, dicks still inside her. Feet planted on the floor on either side of his waist she places both hands on his chest for balance and lifts herself off his cocks, making them both groan at the loss. He only watches, enamored by the sheer amount of cum that drips from her holes onto his abs. 

She adjusts to balance on the front part of her feet, spreading her legs wide as she manoeuvres her pussy over his two spent cocks. She takes both of them in hand, looking at his face to watch his reactions to her touch on his sensitive members. His eyebrows scrunch but he doesn't waver, lifting himself slightly on two elbows. She holds her pussy open with two fingers and brings herself down slowly, slightly taking in both heads. They both watch where the two heads disappear inside her dripping cunt. She stills and just when Sukuna opens his mouth to complain she quickly drops herself down, taking both cocks inside her in a rapid motion. Both of them let out something between a moan and a scream at the sudden stimulation of both Sukuna's thick cocks being forced so deeply inside such a tight space.

"Fucking crazy woman." 

He struggles out. The stretch feels so devine as she clenches and moans. Her head tilted up to the stars in the sky with a dreamy look on her face. She brings her hand to caress her tummy and grins when she feels it, the bump in her stomach right where his two cocks inside her are. She looks down at it which makes Sukuna look too and the man curses, tipping his head back, absolutely enamoured with his perfect wife. 

She pulls his hand from her hip to her stomach to hold it over the bulge there. They both moan at the feeling as she starts grinding back and forth in slow circles. 

"You got another one for me, Honey?"

She asks snarkily, as if she doesn't know how many rounds her husband is capable of, he just huffs and smirks. She raises herself up on her feet, until both dicks are juuust about to pop out and rams back down letting out a gutteral sound as they reach the deepest parts of her pussy. She continues with these hard long thrusts, moving her whole body up and down his lengths. Sukuna just let's his wife do her magic, occasionally clutching into her thighs and hips. Sukuna knows he'll never be allowed into heaven but the feeling of his two cocks rubbing up against one another inside his wife's pretty cunt is the closest thing to heaven he'll ever need. 

As she gets closer and moves faster the overstimulation starts getting to her and her full body thrusts get sloppier. Her body can't keep up with her need and she frantically tells her husband. 

"Ah, fuck me, Ryo please!"

Sukuna waists no time following his wife's orders and reaches under her legs to grab her waist with two hands. Her legs are pressed against her chest and he sits up before lifting her body up and pounding her even deeper than before. She clutches his biceps for some stability as she gets her cervix fucked by her insanely big husband.

 The position, the depth, the speed, the strength it's all too much for Sukuna as she clenches impossibly tighter. Before he can even register it, his balls clench and his dicks twitch until he's cumming hard for her. He hisses and lets out a long groan, pulling her close to him as he bottoms out so he can shoot his cum as deep inside her as possible. She can barely handle the amount of cum that gets pumped into her. Nothing in the world can compare to the feeling of being filled to the brim by her lover, its no time before she's cumming with him. Her pussy milking his two cocks for all they have. 

 They stay dead still like that for a solid minute until Sukuna falls onto his back bringing his wife with him, still clutching her tightly to his chest. They both breathe ragged breaths, bathing in the sweaty after glow.

"Wow." She chuckles in exhaustion lifting her head from where it rested on his chest to rest her hand on her chin and smile dazedly at him. He lazily grins back from the hard ground while his hands stroke up and down her thighs and back, one arm resting under his head. 

She slowly pushed herself up more with her hands on his chest before she gradually pulled his softened dicks out of her now fill cunt. She's surprised her belly didn't expand with all the cum inside her at this point. 

She stands up, feet on either side of her husband's waist. The copious amount of cum that leaks out of her is so lewd it would make a pornstar blush. He curls a hand around her ankle, his eyes not leaving the leaking pussy infront of him. She places her hands on her hips and puffs out her chest, standing there like some lewd naked superhero. She clears her throat to get his attention and his eyes flick up to her very smug face.

"I win." 

She says simply. His dazed grin falls comically fast.

"What?"

"I made you come first, both times we fucked."

She holds out her hand, presenting two fingers. Sukuna is dumbfounded to say the least. 

"What the fuck are you talking about? I made you cum first on my tongue."

He retorts, holding up one finger.

"Nuh uh, that doesn't count."

He's getting angry now and she knows it. He lifts himself up on his elbows.

"What the fuck do you mean it doesn't count?"

She stretches her arms above her head stepping over him to walk away.

"Doesn't count. Better luck next time, My Love" 

He grabs at her ankle.

"Hey! You promised me you'd suck my dick if I made you cum, remember?" 

She pretends to think for a second. 

"Huh, I did say that." 

she pauses before shrugging,

"Well, I'm hungry now. Uraumeee!" 

She dashes out of his grip but he anticipates it and stands up to grab her around the waist. 

"You will make good on your promise." He growls into her hair slightly grinding his bare cocks into her ass. 

She's unfazed as she turns in his hold and says sternly. 

"I know you know what it's like to not eat a single thing for ONE THOUSAND YEARS!"

Sukuna groans in exasperation, tipping his head up to the sky. 

"You got to eat plenty of innocents already! I've not had a single mortal and might I remind you who's fault all this was in the first-"

"You called master?“

Uraume suddenly appears bowing behind the woman, interrupting her tangent which Sukuna is relieved about. The woman turns with a gleeful look in her eyes.

"Uraume~ Darling, I'm starving."

"I've already prepared you both a few meals and clean clothing."

The Queen practically vibrates with happiness. She reaches out to bring the sorcerer into a sweaty hug.

"Oh Uraume, what would I do without you?"

Just like that the Queen of Curses is back to cooing over her favourite sorcerer, clinging onto them as they lead her to the meal they prepared.

Sukuna just stands there for a minute, contemplating his entire marriage to this point as he watches the two scale up the stares. He peers a bit lower to the absolutely drenched state of her thighs as his multiple loads leak from her filled pussy, walking just a little wobbly. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. As much as he wants to complain and act like he hates it, he knows he's absolutely pussy whipped.

[moonchild9350]

All for You

Summary: Your friend sets you up on a blind date in which you are unsure of attending. However the night takes a turn once you meet Hyunjin himself.

Pairing: Hyunjin x fab!reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut-18+MDNI

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: exhibitionism, fingering, clit play, nipple play, oral ex (m receiving), cum tasting, spanking, squirting, unprotected sex (don’t), creampie, multiple rounds, dirty talk

Notes: just Hyunjin being on my mind and wanting to write something with a lot of tension, plus there’s not a lot of blind dates so decided to change that hehe

If you enjoyed please consider a like, reblog, or comment as it keeps me motivated:)

Divider by @cafekitsune

Please do not copy, translate, modify, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©️moonchild9350

You were pacing the floor, wrapped up in your towel as you were fresh out of the shower. You were in a slight predicament, your face turning into a frown at the thought of it.

Your friend, Ashley, decided to set you up on a blind date tonight with Hyunjin, a mutual of hers, saying you needed to put yourself out there more. You were perfectly content at home, but she insisted and wouldn’t leave the topic alone so you eventually agreed.

She stopped by earlier to pick out your outfit, settling on a black leather dress and some heels. She tried to pick out your bra and pantie set, but you drew the line there, preferring to pick out your own intimates.

You opened your drawer, your fingers brushing against the lace that laid there. You touched each piece until you stopped on a lace, black thong. You picked up the garment and eyed the piece thinking ‘might as well go all out.’

Slipping in one leg, then the other, you pulled the thong up your legs, snapping the band in place. Grabbing your dress, you slid the outfit on, fixing the straps, your eyes set on how your breasts perched perfectly within the top, your cleavage peaking out from the deep cut.

You made sure every hair was in place, no makeup smudged, and then proceeded to put your heels on, delicate hands fastening the buckles against your ankle. You gathered your bag, making sure you had all the essentials.

Your eyes drifted to an envelope next to where your bag was, the white square taunting you. Your friend told you to take the item with you and not open it until the night was at a conclusion as there was a surprise inside.

Looking at the clock on your dresser, you saw it was time to head to the predetermined destination. You ordered a ride share and waited in your living room, your mind wandering how your date would go. You hoped he was good company and hopefully someone good to look at.

You didn’t have time to wait for long as your ride pulled up. You shut your door and took a breath, ready for whatever the night would bring.

— —

You had arrived at the venue, some fancy bar that your guest had picked out. You carefully took each step to the front door, pulling it open to step into the hallway.

Your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, painting the room beyond in a mysterious light. Couples and groups gathered intimately at tables, the heads together in soft chatter. There was soft jazz music playing over the speakers, adding to the intimacy of the atmosphere.

Scanning the room, looking for your date, your only indication on how he looks based on the description given by Ashley. As you slowly looked around, your eyes stopped at a man sitting in a corner by himself.

He was wearing a white shirt and blazer, and black pants. He was nursing a glass of amber liquid, his fingers softly tracing the rim of the glass. You smiled, happy so far with what you saw.

You walked his way, your heels softly click clacking along the tile until you stopped right in front of the table the man was at. Sensing your presence, the man looks up, his dark brown eyes drifting to your face. He takes you in, a gentle smile spreading on his face underneath the locks of wavy hair framing his face.

“Y/n?” The man asks with a knowing smirk.

“Hyunjin?” You reply, the name rolling off your tongue like silk.

“The one and only,” Hyunjin said, bringing his glass to his lips and taking a sip.

You sit down in the seat next to him, your elbow only a breath away from his arm. You place your bag on the table and then rest your head on your chin, your fingers dangling as you gaze at the man next to you.

He was very good on the eyes, nicely dressed, and seemed confident, the thought causing your heart to flutter within your chest and your pussy to clench. You couldn’t help but smile as his eyes kept drifting to your cleavage, his tongue darting out to lick his plush lips.

“So can I get you something?” Hyunjin asked, motioning to his glass.

“Mmm I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you purred, keeping your eyes on his.

Hyunjin smiled at your choice as he lifted his hand up to signal to the waiter. He pointed to his glass and then held up two fingers, the waiter nodding in acknowledgment.

Hyunjin entices you in conversation, the words that fall from his mouth smooth like honey, his voice making your feel dizzy in this dimly lit room. You find yourself enjoying his company, enjoying his banter, something you haven’t felt in a while.

Just as you listen to him, he listens to you. You talk about your interests, your job, and even how you met Ashley, his eyes on yours as he listens closely. He smiles and offers feedback, seeming genuinely interested in your boring life.

You feel your heart race, the incessant pounding loud in your ears, so loud you’re surprised Hyunjin can’t hear it. Every time he looks at you, you feel your core flutter, little droplets of your slick leaking out onto the strip of fabric covering your pussy.

You are interested in this man, you couldn’t believe it, your mind trying to catch up to the fact. You feel the heat rise to your face, painting your cheeks and neck in a rosy color, as Hyunjin scoots closer, so close you can feel his breath on your lips.

There’s static in the air as you breathe him in, the scent of some type of mint laced with the bourbon he’s been drinking all evening. You can see the imperfections on his face, the mole printed below his left eye, the slight dimple that forms as his mouth turns up in a slight smile.

Despite all of this, you can’t help but think he is absolute perfection, a god sent to you to change your whole world.

Hyunjin gazes at you with a sultry gaze, his eyes scanning your lips down to your cleavage and back to your eyes again. You feel a shiver down your spine as his arms brush against yours, his fingers reaching out to touch yours that are now resting on the table.

You lick your lips as your pussy clenches, your thighs tense, and your clit throbs, the ache growing incessantly within. You subconsciously scoot closer to him, wanting to be as close as possible. There is silence between you two, the chatter of those at the tables around you drowning out with each passing moment until it seems like it’s just you two in the dim room.

The candle flickers on the table, casting a soft glow over your hands, that have now found their way together. The tension is palpable, so thin you could cut it with a knife. You find Hyunjin leaning closer and closer to you, his lips slightly parted as he stares you down, his eyes searching yours with lust.

You brace yourself for the kiss, your eyes closing at the last second as you feel his hand gently on yours. You wait and wait just to snap your eyes open when nothing happens, Hyunjin eyeing the waiter walking over to ask if you needed anything.

Hyunjin clears his throat and leans away, slight annoyance on his face.

“We’re good thank you. May we get the check actually?”

The waiter nods and walks away, returning shortly with the bill. Hyunjin slaps down a shiny black credit card and hands it back to the waiter who graciously retreats to run the card.

Once Hyunjin is in possession of his card again, you pull out the envelope, deeming this moment as good as any to view its contents.

“Ashley gave this to me to open at the close of the night. So…wanna open it?”

Hyunjin eyes the white envelope than looks back at you.

“Why not.”

You nod and pick it up, your finger sliding under the lip of the seal. You break it open, holding your breath as you pull out the contents. A little slip of paper is there, some handwritten words present in what seems like Ashley’s writing.

You read aloud, “You have a room booked at Clarence hotel, have fun ;)”

You chuckled, showing Hyunjin what was written on the slip of paper. He smirked at the message, setting the card down on the table.

“Shall we then?” He smirked.

You giggled, grabbed your bag, stood up, and walked to the door. You couldn’t help but be aware of his hand on the small of your back, the heat of his palm transferring to your skin. You both decided to walk to the hotel as it was only a block away. The night air was crisp, the scent of promise lingering.

You both walked with hurried steps, the need to be alone together growing with every passing minute. Hyunjin grabbed your hand as you approached the doors of the hotel, pulling you through as they opened.

You approached the desk out of breath and laughing, startling the clerk behind the desk.

“Reservation for y/l/n,” you managed to get out in between giggles.

The clerk searched through the computer before smiling, finding your reservation.

“Here’s your key, everything else has been taken care of,” the clerked said.

You raised your eyebrow, surprised that your friend took care of the logistics. You reached for the key, thanking the clerk before taking off towards the elevators. You pressed the button, willing the it to arrive soon.

Your skin was burning, the heat radiating off your skin as you waited for the car, Hyunjin standing so close to you, you could feel his breath against your neck. Your breath hitched as you felt his fingertips graze your waist, sending shocks of pleasure down into your core.

You thanked your lucky stars as the elevator dinged, the metal doors opening up. You pulled Hyunjin within the car and pressed the number four, the doors closing shortly thereafter. Hyunjin had his arms fully wrapped around your waist now, his nose skimming the strands of your hair and down to your ear.

You felt his soft lips brush against the back of your neck, as he pressed lazy kisses along your skin, causing your pussy to clench, as more arousal slowly trickled out. Time seemed to stand still as you stood in the elevator, Hyunjin’s lips attached to you as the numbers slowly ticked up as the elevator took you to your floor.

You rested your hands on his, titling your head to give him better access to your neck. Hyunjin buried his head immediately within the crook of your neck, his hair falling onto your shoulders obscuring his face as he bit the skin there. You let out a soft moan, jolts of pleasure traveling straight to your core, Hyunjin chuckling at your reaction.

You heard Hyunjin groan as the elevator dinged once more signaling you had arrived at your floor causing you to chuckle at his disappointment. He disentangled from you as you both walked down the hallway, your eyes scanning the wall for your room number.

Once there, you looked at Hyunjin before scanning your key, the key holder turning green to allow you in. Swinging open the door, you both stepped in, turning on the lights of the grand room.

You took in the bed, nicely made against the wall, to the little sitting area on the opposite wall.

However, what caught your eye was a large window at the other end of the room, the expanse of the city on display. You hurried over, your eyes watching the nightlife, seeing the various people walk by on their way to their destinations.

You gasped as you felt Hyunjin come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, his lips immediately attaching to your neck. You sighed as he pressed kiss after kiss along your skin, savoring the slowness of the moment.

As he continued to pepper you with kisses, his hands traveled up to fondle and squeeze your breasts over your dress causing you to moan out. He chuckled against your skin, pressing a kiss there before lifting his head.

“I can see your reflection love,” he said in a deep tone, his eyes trained on you in the reflection of the glass.

You pressed your thighs together at the implications, as you looked straight ahead at Hyunjin. You watched as he lowered the straps of your dress, the flimsy string falling immediately to rest on your arms, revealing more of your breasts.

Hyunjin lowered the fabric over the flesh, his eyes glued to your reflection. He cupped your breasts, his fingers brushing over and playing with your nipples, the nubs slowly hardening at his touch. You let out a moan at he pinched them, sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to your pussy.

“You look so beautiful love, letting me touch you where anyone can see.” Hyunjin teased as he continued to play with your breasts.

You mewled at the dirty talk, the thought of someone watching you through the windows causing you to brush your ass against his pelvis, his bulge pressing against your ass.

“But by the looks of it, you want others to see hmm,” he said in a low voice. “Let’s give them a show.”

His hand slid down your dress, his fingers running over the expanse of your tummy until they slipped under the fabric and going straight to your panties. You moaned as he pressed against the wet fabric, sliding his finger through your folds.

“So wet for me…what if we just…” Hyunjin trailed off as he moved your panties to the side, his fingers touching you directly.

“Hyunjin, ah!” You moaned out as he fingered you, the digits dipping into your dripping hole before coming up to circle your clit.

With the aid of your slick, his fingers slid across the bud, his hand hot against your pelvis holding you to him. You whined at the throbbing of your clit and the pad of his fingers tweaking it, little jolts of pleasure traveling through your core as he switched speeds.

You could hear just how wet you were for him, the sounds only increasing as another gush of slick dripped out onto his hands. Hyunjin brought his other hand to your breast, a smile on his face as he toyed with your nipple, coaxing out steady moans from you.

“Shit! Hyunjin, please!” You begged, the coil within your core expanding with each slide of his fingers on your clit and tug on your nipples.

“Are you gonna come for me, a person you just met? Come all over my fingers?” Hyunjin said, his voice sultry and sweet in your ear.

“Yes, yes, please let me cum,” you whined, subtly thrusting your hips against his hand as you barreled toward your orgasm.

Hyunjin chuckled, increasing the pace of his administrations as he pressed wet kisses along your shoulder.

“Come for me,” he commanded, the band snapping as you released all over his fingers, your walls contracting with the intensity of your orgasm.

Hyunjin continued to rub your clit, helping you ride out your high as you thrashed against him, your knees buckling at the sensation.

You tried to catch your breath as you looked at your reflection, just making out your fucked out face.

You braced your hands on the window as Hyunjin slowly bent your over, the palm of his hand sliding up your spine and then coming down to slap your ass. You jolted at the sudden pain, but soon let out a groan as the sensation turned to pleasure. He spanked your ass a few more times before sliding your dress down, the fabric pooling at your feet.

You heard the rustling of fabric, watching as he popped open each button of his shirt, revealing his chest. You waited in anticipation as you heard his zipper, the slide of the metal along the track teasing in the moment.

Hyunjin stepped out his pants and boxers, kicking them to the side as he parted your legs more. Gripping his cock, he brushed the head through your folds before sinking into your entrance, his moans filling the room at the feel of your walls stretching to accommodate him.

You whimpered as he didn’t give you time to adjust, but instead began to thrust his hips into yours, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing in the room. You were loud, your breath from your moans fogging up the glass as Hyunjin fucked you fast and hard.

Your gaze was straight ahead, your fingers splayed across the glass as you took in the scene before you. You clenched your pussy around his cock, a gush of arousal dripping from your hole as the thought of someone watching Hyunjin fuck you.

You were close to coming again, the band winding up within your belly once more. Hyunjin groaned as your walls clenched over him, sucking him in with each thrust.

His eyes roamed to the window as he watched your breasts bounce as he fucked you, the look of pleasure on your face. He quickly looked down at where you were taking him, his cock twitching as he watched your ass jiggle as his pelvis collided with the flesh with each stroke.

He pushed you back, bending you over more as he brought a hand down, slapping your ass again and again until the skin turned a pretty shade of pink.

“Shit, this pussy y/n, just taking me,” Hyunjin groaned.

You moaned at his words, a warm sensation slowly expanding with each passing moment as he continued to pummel into you. The throb within your core became too much as you squirted around him, your arousal dripping down your legs and onto the floor.

You thrashed in his hold, your legs threatening to give out, that is until he held you up, your back flush against his chest.

“Fuck, fuck fuck! Gonna cum, gonna fill you up!” Hyunjin groaned, his hold on you tightening as he came, rope after rope of his hot cum filling up your walls, the pearly liquid seeping out of your hole slowly.

You whined as he pressed a kiss to your cheek and withdrew his cock. You straightened up, shivering as more of both of your release dripped from your hole, watching as he walked away until he reached the bed, the sound of the boxspring creaking as he lowered himself onto it.

“Come here love,” Hyunjin cooed, beckoning you to come over.

You walked over to him and climbed onto the bed, kneeling in front of him.

Hyunjin gripped his softened cock, presenting it to you, glistening in your arousal. He cocked his eyebrows as he waited for you to get closer as your eyes traveled to his cock.

You grabbed him by the base and bent down, wrapping your lips around the head, moaning at the taste of your cum and his. You began to bob your head, taking each inch of his cock to get him nice and hard once more.

Hyunjin laid his head back and moaned, his hips slightly bucking up into you, his now slightly hardened cock kissing the back of your throat. You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, your other hand coming up to fondle his balls, that were hot and heavy in your palms.

You continued to suck him off until he gripped your hair, pulling you off his cock.

“Come, sit love,” he said, his cock standing erect against his belly.

You shuffled closer, gripped his member, and lifted your hips up, bringing the tip to your entrance. Slowly, you slid down his cock, letting out shaky moans as you descended. Once you bottomed out, you paused, your pussy clenching around his length, causing him to groan.

You braced yourself and bounced on his cock, little cries falling from your lips at the new angle. You reveled in the feel of his cock dragging against your walls, your slick making the glide easier.

Your breasts bounced with each thrust until Hyunjin reached out and cupped them as his mouth wrapped around a nipple. He licked and sucked the buds, alternating between the two as you rode him, your ass slapping against his legs as you came down.

You panted as you begun to swivel your hips, the new motion catching your clit just right. Moaning you leaned forward shoving your breasts further in Hyunjin’s face, who let out a moan as he continued to suck your nipples.

“Mm close Hyun,” you said, letting out a cry as you felt your orgasm build for the third time that night.

You didn’t slow down your hips, instead increased your pace as you chased your high. Hyunjin let go of your breasts with a pop and gripped your ass, helping you rock against him.

“Come on y/n, love, give it to me, come on my cock again.”

Between the feel of his cock within you, hitting your spot just right, and his dirty talk, you let go, your orgasm traveling through your core, your pussy spasming around him. You shook on top of him, your toes curled at the pleasure, as you cried at the intense feeling.

Hyunjin smiled, and began to snap his hips up into yours, causing you to scream out as you rode out your high. He didn’t stop until he let out a loud moan, as he came within you again.

“So good love, so good,” he breathed as he finished filling you up, his arms reaching out to catch you as you collapsed on his chest.

You laid there for a moment before Hyunjin laid you on your back, his cock slipping from your pussy causing you to wince.

“I’ll be back love,” Hyunjin said softly as he got up to go to the bathroom to warm up a towel.

He gently cleaned you up, making sure to be extra gentle around your pussy. You sighed at the feeling of the warm towel on your skin, the temperature soothing.

Once done, Hyunjin cleaned himself up and then slid under the covers with you.

“Y/n,” he said after a moment of silence.

“Mmm,” you whispered, barely being able to talk.

“Go on another date with me?” He asked, his fingers drawing patterns on your back. “I’ll give you the world, it’ll be all for you.”

You consider his request, your mind reeling at how this blind date turned out. You’d have to remember to thank you friend whenever you saw here next, that’s for sure. The answer was pretty obvious, and it wouldn’t change, not today and not tomorrow when you wake still in his arms.

“Sure, I’ll go on another date with you.”

And you meant it to, every word.

Tag list: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght

[littlelovelunette]

Omg i need more of that age gap secret relationship sevika stuff 😭😭 This time reader is at like a family gathering in some restaurant annoyed out of her mind from her family’s words and she sneaks outside just to find sevika waiting for her outside and they’re just fucking in the back alley of the restaurant 😭😭

Only If They Knew (2)

Contains smut, age gap, implications of getting caught, degradation, implications of exaggerated age gap, rough fingering, mentions of homophobic parents, pussy slapping

The family members were talking, loud noises and clattering of dishes making your head feel all dizzy, you just wished you could be with Sevika.

Crossing your arms across your chest, you stared blankly at your parents who were making ridiculous jokes about your cousins and all other weird things you could care less about.

You got up, "I'm off to the bathroom," you said in a soft tone before you stalked off, heels clicking after yourself as you walked in the bathroom, texting Sevika to come over. You fixed your makeup, making sure you looked all proper for your very very older girlfriend.

Your parents would never approve, heck they would never even approve the fact that you decided to go les.

They would freak out if they ever found out and even if you were old enough to move out, you preferred to keep it low for now.

Your phone vibrated in your purse and you looked at the text that said, " I'm here, doll."

You couldn't help smile at the text, grabbing your phone up and texted her, "I'm coming."

"You'll be saying that later," Sevika texted back and you huffed a laugh rolling your eyes. You took your purse, walking out of the restaurant trying to avoid your family from seeing you on the way.

As you walked out, you smiled at the sight of the tall woman waiting for you. Sevika led you to the alley between the restaurant wall and another building, pinning you to the brick wall, "Wanted to see your big bad girlfriend during a family gathering, huh? It's like you just got wilder for me," Sevika said, her voice a raspy whisper.

You giggled and gasped as Sevika pulled your panties down from under your dress, her fingers working effortlessly as she pocketed the garment

"What are you doing?" You whispered at her.

"Nothing, bunny, just enjoy," Sevika smirked a little before she pushed two digits inside your dripping cunt, flesh of her palm rubbing against your clit making you jerk a little.

"N-not here," you moaned in her ear, "Please, anyone could see us."

"Oh yeah? But you'd like it wouldn't you?" Sevika said with a small growl, fingers digging deeper in your dripping wet mess, "You're getting off at the thought of it."

"D-Dont make it sound so dirty..." You whined out, burying your face at the crook of Sevika's neck as you tried to keep your whimpers and moans low.

"Uh-huh? You love it, you dirty little slut, being fucked by a woman almost twice your age in an alleyway while your mummy and daddy are at the restaurant next building," Sevika curled her fingers making you gasp, "Admit it, you love it."

You gasped, and whimpered lowly. Your eyes closed in embarrassment and you nodded meekly.

For Sevika, your nod wasn't enough, she pulled her fingers out and delivered a slap to your pussy making you gasp and whine.

"Y-Yes, I love it," you answered her as you tried to grind on her hand where she hit you. Sevika smirked, "Be a good girl. Keep quiet." Sevika pushed her fingers back in your cunt and started twisting them and thrusting them fast.

"you love it so fucking much you're creaming on my fingers. little slut you're enjoying this huh?" sevika added a third finger making your eyes roll back as you tried to grab onto her shoulders for support.

"it feels good it's so good." you whispered in her ear as sevika gave her fingers one last thrust and you gasped, squirting over her fingers and your liquids streamed onto the street below. sevika laughed softly, the sound a deep rumble from her chest.

"did so well, my love." she took put her other hand in her back pocket and withdrew some wet napkins to clean you off. "your legs are shaking." sevika commented.

"you're so mean." you mumbled softly as sevika cleaned you off and pulled your panties over your ass, giving it a small pat.

"you'll be fine." sevika leaned in and kissed your head before you wrapped your arms around her and puckered up your lips for a proper kiss.

sevika rolled her eyes but gave in, kissing you deeply as her hands squeezed and palmed your body through your dress, her tongue delving inside your mouth with years of experience.

"be a good girl." sevika said with a warning tone and you couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. "i'll be fine, i love you baby."

you started walking to the restaurant again despite being a little shaky. sevika cleaned her fingers off, putting her hands in her pockets. "love you too..."

[daycourtofficial]

Blood moon in Autumn

Pairing: Eris x Rhys’s sister!reader | WC: 1.3k | warnings: mentions of nudity, mentions of sex, mentions of violence

Summary: fae cycles are no joke, but your mate is always there to provide you comfort in the best way possible: by being your personal heating pad

Author’s note: this is part of my gingerfucker series, however this can be read as a standalone. @writingcroissant actually gave me the idea for this so everyone say thanks Tori 🥰

Death was imminent, you were sure of it. Every fiber of your being ached, the pain emanating from your lower abdomen through the rest of your body. It felt like someone was stabbing you with a rusted, dull knife, the blade carving out your insides slowly at their leisure.

You heard your bedroom door open and close, footsteps coming towards the bed. You groan in greeting as the steps get closer.

“Just leave me here to die, Er.”

A soft chuckle makes its way to your ears, despite the layers of blankets you are burrowed beneath, the blankets not offering you the comfort you so desperately crave.

“You’ll be remembered for even in death, your flare for the dramatics never faltered.”

You push your face from the blankets, allowing your face to be seen. You scowl towards your mate, his smirk making you want to push him from the window. You take in the sight of him - he had changed into more relaxed clothes since you saw him last. Gone is his formal jacket, a deep red velvet with golden leaf embroidery. The garment would make anyone look like court royalty, but on Eris it made him look positively radiant, as if the fires of Autumn truly originated from him, as if the apple orchards and the crops found their nutrients from him. You loved when he wore it, your fingers tracing the fine embroidery along the lapel as you would straddle his lap, grinding softly-

You groaned, the idea of moving so much making you nauseous and slightly dizzy.

Now he wore a loose, billowy shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, casual brown trousers covering his toned legs. If it were any other day, you’d devour him. Any other day, you’d pull him directly into bed, pushing his clothes off of him, neither of you leaving bed until you slipped his shirt on to grab the two of you some pastries.

Instead, the sight of him made you slightly annoyed - he seemed fine as he set down a tray on the table next to you. He was fine this morning when he rose, having to tend to some things before returning. You were dying, and he was perfectly fine. You groaned, shifting to sit up on your elbows. “What’s this?”

“I believe those of us who leave our beds call it ‘food’.”

His smirk disappears at the pillow that hits his feet. He sends you a withering glare that just makes you scoff. “That could have hit the tray of coffee I made for you.”

You perked up at the sound of coffee - you were sure the warm liquid would at least distract your insides. Or at least provide you some comfort.

You’d take anything at this point.

“Did you make the coffee? Or did you just prepare the tray?”

“What difference does it make? Coffee is coffee.”

“Well, if Jora made it, then I aimed perfectly for your feet.”

“What if it was my coffee?”

“Then I would have aimed for the tray.”

He gives you a withering stare, his fingers halting their movements. “Now that’s no way to treat your mate who lovingly made you coffee.”

You squint your eyes, “if it’s my mate that’s making the coffee, it’s more of an assassination attempt than love.”

“You wound me, my love.” Despite your grievances, he continues preparing your cup exactly as you like it.

“Is the wound fatal?”

“Perhaps.”

“I shall pay my respects at your funeral, then. With my next husband.”

His eyebrow quirks as he rests the cup on your side table before he rounds the bed, peeling back the layers of blankets on top of you. He crawls in behind you, his body heat causing you to melt.

“Next husband?”

“I will get lonely. Besides, the hounds need a male’s touch. They’ll grow soft under me.”

“And who is this next husband? Is he capable of this?”

Before you can ask what ‘this’ is, he slides his arm around your waist, his palm lying flat over your lower abdomen, his fingers spreading across your skin. Your skin began heating under his touch, and you moaned at the relief he provided you.

“If he’s not, he’s not worth it. Perhaps one of your brothers will be capable. Lu, maybe?”

Eris growled at the teasing, your friendship with Lucien a constant sore spot for him amidst his rekindling relationship with his youngest brother. He hated to admit it, but he seethed with jealousy watching you interact with Lucien, the way your conversation would flow easily.

A life of regrets and Lucien takes several of the top five spots.

“Lucien would make a terrible husband. You’d never see him - he spends all day brushing his hair.”

“I like a well-groomed male.”

“The noises his eye makes would keep you up all night.”

“I think you’re getting us confused. The whirring would soothe me to sleep.”

He buries his face into your neck, mumbling, “you are not marrying Lucien.”

“Alastor, perhaps?”

You clutched onto Eris’s arm, the heat providing you some relief. You nuzzle your head into his bicep, and he blows out a hot breath, “if I die, and you are unable to continue alone, marry outside of my family, leave my brothers out of your marriage pool.”

You open your mouth, but he cuts you off.

“Not Azriel.”

You huff, “well if I can’t have a Vanserra or Azriel, I’ll stay alone forever.”

“I prefer that alternative.”

“I will rule Autumn alone. Just as Beron would have liked.”

You spin in his arms, pushing his shoulder down so he’d lay on his back. You crawl on top of him, laying so every inch of you is touching him in some way. Not an inch of space exists between your bodies. You poke his ribs, urging him to start heating up. He ignores you, so you start tugging on the bond between you two.

“Patience is a virtue, don’t they teach that in the war camps they call villages?”

“I’m dying, I think the Mother can forgive my lack of virtues.”

He huffs, but starts warming his skin to better provide comfort. You groan, laying in silence with him for several moments, the heat a comfort to the constant pain.

A few moments later you roll, your back laying across his chest.

“Ah,” you sigh, the pain in your lower back lessening at his touch.

“You’re spinning like game over a campfire.”

He rests his hands on your lower abdomen, the warmth making the stabbing pain into a dull ache.

You sigh at the contact, practically melting at how he soothes your muscles.

“I want to go bathe but that requires movement and leaving this bed.”

Eris laughs into your hair, but you hear the water running in the bathroom. You groan just thinking about how soothing the water would feel on your joints. You breathed out slowly through your nose, preparing yourself for the trek across the room.

You rolled off of Eris, and before you could get off the bed, Eris moved from behind to in front of you, his feet landing softly on the floor.

“Care for a ride?”

You nod, and his arms sweep you up.

“I think this is my preferred method of travel.”

“Perhaps this is how you will tour Autumn, hm? I shall carry you throughout the lands.”

You laugh as he sets you down, helping you remove your clothes. He must be warming the air somehow, because you don’t feel the chill of the air when your clothes are completely off. He helps you into the water, which you melt into immediately. You close your eyes, laying back in the tub, the porcelain a nice surface to lean against.

You’ve completely forgotten about Eris’ presence until you feel him nudge your shoulders forward, his lean body slipping behind you into the tub. His legs stretch besides yours, and you lean your head back to rest on his shoulder.

“There’s no way my next husband will be as helpful as you are.”

He breathes out through his nose, “I fear you can only marry down from here. A pity, truly.”

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[shiningjustforreid]

stains

glimpses through fem!reader and Spencer’s relationship, through four instances of spills.

word count: 3.5k ish

a/n: i love the idea that for some of us, our personalities are made up all the things we like about the people we know and see. the idea that we’re all little bits and pieces of the things we love, and our experiences. this sort of explores that. (also this was mildly self indulgent because much like reader i’m a klutz!) <3

warnings/tags: 18+ for implied intimacy and canon typical violence for cm, pet names up the wazoo, reader is lowkey clumsy, Derek Morgan being himself, reader gets injured but she’s fine, who’s Maeve?, anxious love confession, Spencer adores reader so so much, S1 and S6 (ish) Spencer, Spencer in and post prison, love letters, marriage, kids, and briefly mentioned pregnancy, girl dad!Spencer Reid my beloved

- ✩ -

coffee - the first stain

To be honest, at first, he’s appalled.

The mug you set down on his desk isn’t his, so God knows whose mouth was on it last. You - somewhat carelessly - plopped it down on the file he’s working on, grinning that thousand watt smile he’s secretly become fond of. You’re wearing a sweater he noticed that brings out your eyes - a berry colored wool garment that he wishes you’d wear more.

“Hey! Morgan said you were exhausted. Thought I’d make you coffee.”

You pick it up, and set it down again, for emphasis, and a few drops make their way down the side and onto his case file, surely creating a cinnamon toned half circle that Hotch will not love. You don’t notice, watching his face.

“I made it with a bunch of sugar. Just how you like it, right?”

Suddenly, he realizes he’s been staring up at you, and then his mouth is moving faster than his brain.

“Yeah, I uh, I am pretty tired, now that you say it. Didn’t sleep well, long night, you know?”

You nod, sipping your own coffee, fingers wrapped around the ceramic.

“I get that. Goes with the job, right?”

“Oh, absolutely, yeah, I- wait, Morgan said that? Did he— what else did he tell you?”

You grin, coffee mug to lips again.

Stop staring, Reid.

“Nothing, really. Just said you needed a boost. Thought I’d provide.”

Titling your head a tad, you look down, a mild panic crossing your face when you see you’ve stained his file.

“Oh my God - Reid, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

He’s quick to shake his head, hands coming up to reassure, his eyes wide.

“No no no, it’s okay, truly, I-I made a mistake on that one anyways. I’ll need to have a new copy printed, honest.”

Frowning, you look him over, searching for a tell, something to let you know whether he’s lying or not.

“Are you sure? I can do it, I’m not that behind on mine, I could—“

Before he thinks - you’d assume, with all his brains, he would - his hand grabs your arm, that gorgeous sweater under his finger tips, his eyes locked with yours. He says your name, once, his tone more serious than he’d like.

“It’s okay. Thanks for the coffee.”

You blink, and then a slow grin takes over your face.

“You’re welcome. Let me know if you need more.”

For a moment, neither of you move, the heat of his hand burning through the wool on your arm, until he lets go like you’re the one scorching his skin, like he’s just realized that he’s touching you. You laugh a little, awkwardly, and he grins with the same level of unpracticed nerves, and you head back to your desk.

He picks up the mug, and sips slowly, closing his eyes for a moment - it does have a mountain of sweetness, the saccharine liquid coating his mouth but soothing his senses. When he sets it down again, it’s on a part of his workspace not occupied by case work. Just as predicted, the file that once housed the beverage now bears a semi circle of dried java. His pointer finger traces the stain, clockwise and then counter, for a moment, before he glances up in horror to see Morgan, of all people, signature smirk in place.

“‘Thanks for the coffee’. I don’t what’s sweeter, that coffee you just got or-“

“Shut up.”

He mumbles, face flushed, small smile on his face despite the teasing. He traces the coffee stain one last time before he hastily tucks the soiled paper away in a drawer.

blood - the second stain

“What do you mean you aren’t getting a response from her on comms?”

He’s so scared, he can’t even stop to think just how breathless and afraid he sounds, as he turns to Hotch, who fixes him with a look that clearly says, Calm down, Reid.

“It could just be non-functional, or got knocked off, or caught.”

Hotch says calmly, almost maddeningly so. Spencer swallows back the protests, the arguments that swell up in his throat like bile.

They’d created, and given the profile, and once Penelope had narrowed down the couple possible properties their potential unsub owned, you, Morgan, and Prentiss had headed into an abandoned storage facility, silent and careful.

Perhaps not careful enough.

The voice in his head reminds him, almost sadly, and he grits his teeth inside tightly drawn and chapped lips. Shaky hands smooth over his slacks, again and again, as his eyes stay fixed on Hotch.

“Ask-ask Morgan again. If she’ll respond.”

He’s given a frown, dark brows pulling together in a very typical Hotch-like manner.

“Is there a specific reason you’re asking about her, Reid?”

Is there? God, he doesn’t know. You bring him coffee nearly every morning, but perhaps that’s just kindness. Then there’s the chocolate sprinkled donuts that start his work day from time to time - maybe you just enjoy pastry treats, and think of him, when you buy one. Oh, and heaven forbid he forget the way you’ll come by his desk, and ask for clarification on a piece of paperwork or a procedure - that you probably could’ve asked Hotch or Prentiss about. You listen, active listening too, eye contact, body still - when his explanations turn into rambles about statistics about this type of criminal, your eyes watching his face, your own voice quiet.

Is he deluding himself? Seeing phantom romance where there’s maybe merely nothing but platonic affection? Blinking, once, he shakes his head in response to his Unit Chief’s question.

“No Hotch. I’m just worried, she-well, she hasn’t responded, and Morgan has, and Prentiss has, and I—“

Speak of the devil, Morgan’s voice comes through, demanding and tense.

“I need a medic. Prentiss and I secured the unsub, but, not before—“

Oh God. Not before that bastard got to you with a baseball bat, to the back of the head, you unaware before your face met the concrete below. Spencer’s not even asking for permission, snatching the keys to an SUV off the desk nearby and flooring the gas pedal.

You can’t die. Not before I—

Driving there is like hell - his lungs burn like there’s smoke and ash polluting them, and fear feels like too tame a word to describe the overwhelming panic that seizes his heart the more he drives.

I’m a fool, he thinks wildly, as his knuckles grip the steering wheel like a vice. A damn fool if I don’t tell her-

He’s barely got the thing in park before he’s scrambling out the driver’s side door, Converse immediately coated from the dusty ground outside the facility.

When he finds Morgan, and you, head lolled to the side, eyes closed, face pale as his must be, he falls to his knees with little regard for his own pain or discomfort. Morgan watches, careful, his voice gentle when he speaks, trying to calm his terrified friend.

“She’s still out, Reid. Just a nasty whack to the back of her head, okay? Easy.”

Trembling thumbs trace and hold your face, like it’s made of paper, as he swallows hard to keep the ache behind his eyes from becoming tear tracks down his face. He spots the gash, trickling crimson down your ashy skin, onto his shaking hand, but doesn’t move from holding your face. A deep contusion, furious and violet-toned, on the back of your head, makes the air leave his chest like he’s been choked.

Beautiful girl, I couldn’t stop this.

He could sob, and he nearly does, until you make some sort of confused noise and force open your eyes. Light rushes through his heart, rekindled warmth as he meets your eyes, and yet, he finds himself almost frozen.

“Spencer? What, I thought-“

“Listen to me.”

He forces himself to speak - he has too. What if he doesn’t get the chance, and all he ever gets to associate you with is caffeine, sprinkles, and a listening ear? No, that won’t do. Not in the slightest.

You meet his eyes, hazy, but listening. Morgan’s brows furrow, as he protests,

“God, man, she just woke up, let her-“

Ignored, as Spencer often finds himself doing when there’s more pressing matters than banter, than propriety.

“You need to know. That I-care about you.”

Blinking, you swallow, and suddenly, the throbbing pain in the back of your skull is slightly dimmed.

“That I can’t let another sunrise or sunset go by where you don’t know that I’d give you the stars if you’d let me. Where I can’t touch you, where I can’t make sure you understand that I’ll protect the light you have inside you until I’m burnt from it. You absolute angel, I-“

He shudders, almost afraid of his own earnest, and says your name like it’s a prayer.

“I love you. Even if you don’t return it, my heart is yours.”

Morgan’s grin is wide, and he shakes his head, almost in amazement. Your own face is flushed, as you hear sirens and medics, your voice crackly and rough from pain, but still, that smile he’s grown to associate with his heart fluttering graces your face.

“My heart is yours, Spencer. Glad you’re finally realizing how absolutely in love I am with you, you goose, even if it took all this.”

He laughs a little, almost deliriously, and smooths his trembling hand over your face.

“Guess the doughnuts weren’t enough, huh?”

You manage, and he shakes his head, quick to push back.

“They were. You’re always enough for me, no matter what you do.”

Could he sound any more smitten?

Procedure says he can’t go in the ambulance with you - there’s no need, you’re just getting stitches and some ice and he can visit you at the hospital, okay? But as he heads back to the - oh dear, still running, he really was in a hurry, wasn’t he? - car, Morgan glances sideways at him, signature smirk in place.

“Pretty boy, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Spencer stares down at his hands in his lap. They’re stained, and a grimace floods his face when he realizes it’s not dirt, but your blood, coating his fingertips. A soft sigh escapes his lips, and he bites back a nastier retort than his friend deserves.

“I guess I did. I can’t believe it took-“

Morgan sighs, stopping Spencer’s inevitable incoming guilt filled rambles.

“Hush. You told her. That’s what matters.”

Glancing down at Spencer’s fidgeting hands in his lap, he presses on the gas.

“Let’s get there, so you can get that off you. I’m shocked you got all dirty, with your germ thing.”

Spencer shrugs, looking out the window.

“For her? I’d-I think I’d do anything. No matter what it stained.”

Soap finds his hands at the hospital, but he finds you soon after, unable to stop the gentle press of his lips to your forehead, or the soft murmurs that follow as he tries to remind himself that much more of your blood didn’t spill.

ink - the third stain

Emily has to physically hold you back in the court room, when they take him out, his eyes fixed on you, and the team, almost hopeless.

“Then your client is a flight risk.”

You’re quite literally fighting her, suddenly terrified in a whole new way for your boyfriend, tears staining your face.

“Bail is denied.”

She’s got both arms wrapped around you, her soft, ‘I know’s, and ‘I’m sorry’s barely heard over your own pleas for her to let you go.

“Defendant will be remanded to federal custody pending trial.”

You hear someone sobbing - angry, fear-filled wailing - and until Emily has you turned around, your face in her shoulder, comes the realization that it’s you.

“He’s-Emily, what are we going to do, he’s not going to be okay, I-I can’t—“

The days that follow are dark. Going to the BAU without Spencer, let alone waking up without him beside you, is enough to send you into a spiral. You try to remind yourself that he’s worse off, that whatever hell he’s experiencing is ten times worse than your quiet fear and loneliness. So, to try to combat the weight that squashes your heart, you write him letters. Daily letters.

Spencer -

We have a case in Florida. Emily says it’ll be quick, but the Florida ones never are. We’d solve it ten times faster with you, you know? Geographical profiles are much harder alone, that’s for sure. The plane ride is quieter without you, and no one’s saying anything - you’d be saying something if you were here. Maybe that’s why we’re quiet. ♡

Every day. You don’t relent. If you can’t mail them in whatever town you get stuck in for work, you mail them in one big envelope when you get back home.

Spencer -

That case was rough. I cried twice - once when I spent over two hours staring at the map at the precinct and couldn’t find anything new, and once when Rossi accidentally snapped at me. He said he was sorry, that he’s ‘on edge’ right now - but aren’t we all? Emily’s working really hard to try to get you home. I wish I could come see you. I hope you’re safe. I love you. ♡

When you learn that he didn’t put you on the list of people who can visit him in that concrete hell, you almost lose what’s left your nerve, breaking down in Emily’s office, shaking. You don’t know whether you’re furious, in despair, or numb to it all.

“Emily, why? Why doesn’t he want me to come see him? If it was me, I’d want to see him every day, I wouldn’t want him to leave!”

She sighs, her face tight. Twisting your hands in your lap, you search her face for answers. Nausea claws at your throat.

“Honestly, my guess is it’s just that. He knows that if you come, he won’t want you to leave. It’ll hurt too much.”

“But Tara, and you, and his mother, and-

Spencer -

I think I understand. Sort of. I feel like there’s this pressure in my chest, and I can’t ever fully breathe. Not since you’ve been away. The weight on my heart never goes away. Missing you more every hour. ♡

Despite the slew of handwritten letters that reach him, you only get one back, after you and the team search his apartment - you keep it in your purse pocket, folded safe, and read it whenever your throat feels tight and your eyes burn. His untidy scrawl is enough to make you feel like a part of him is actually inside this letter - like he’s reading it himself to you, interwoven in the fibers of the paper.

Angel -

I wanted you to know I’m in solitary now - I made sure of it. I know you want me safe, almost more than I do. I love you beyond what I can say, my beautiful girl.

Yours, Spencer.

One night, you’re curled up in Spencer’s apartment, writing him a letter, as is your nightly routine. The ink stains the side of your hand now - an ever-present reminder of the fact that your heart constantly feels ripped out of your body. After addressing the letter to him, your phone buzzes - Emily.

Oh God.

“Hey. We figured out that- oh, you don’t care about all that. He’s coming home.”

She doesn’t need to tell you twice. Paper and ink pen tumble to the floor as you shove your feet in shoes and snatch your jacket off the coat tree. Tension is coiled in your body the entire way there. Ink still stains the side of your hand, a permanent reminder that every time you needed to just tell him something - you had to pick up pen and paper.

Heart in your throat, you push open the door with shaking hand. There he stands, your Spencer. He’s still him, you think, although his face is tight, and sleep clearly hasn’t been something he’s seen much of.

Three months.

You walk in slowly, body trembling. One hand reaches up, runs through the curls that have grown so long.

“Your hair.”

You breathe out, voice barely audible. He nods, his face almost impassive. Tentative fingers trail down his cheek, make a path to hold his face. He nods, and then, you notice his eyes are misty.

“My angel.” He murmurs, almost in awe, and takes you in his arms with a fervor. Crushed against him, face buried in the cool fabric of his shirt, you bite back a sob, arms threaded around him.

“No. Cry, my darling girl, I’m— I’m tired of doing it alone.”

How could you refuse him? Just hearing his voice, let alone the relief you feel at being touched by him again, is enough to satisfy you for days, you think. For a bit, all that’s heard is uneven breaths, until he speaks, his voice rough and shaky.

“I need to see your face.”

He pulls back, face shining with tears, and you swallow back the lump that just won’t leave your throat.

Calloused hands - less soft than you remember - take yours, and then he frowns.

“Your hand.”

Your right hand is held up, inspected, like the blue on the inner side of it is red instead. You smile, laughing a little, still breathless.

“Ink, baby. Just ink. I was writing you a letter.”

He shakes his head, rubbing at the navy stain with his thumb, as if that will remove it.

“I would’ve kept writing. Never given up. You’d be sick of letters from me.”

“Never, sweet girl. There is no part of me who could ever find himself sick of you.”

After you’ve come home, he wastes no time in pressing less than tender kisses to your mouth and jawline and the column of your throat. It’s not until he’s reacquainted himself with your contours and the dip of your hipbones and the soft way you gasp out his name when he does that, that has you next to him, so he can see your face.

He needs to see your face.

Hand in his, still faintly stained from ink, he examines it, and then, softly, hesitantly, he meets your eyes.

“You know ink poisoning is actually rare? Pens we use are designed with non-toxic ink, to decrease any chances of fatal ingestion.”

You never mind his information sharing, but your eyebrows furrow tiredly at his timing.

“Spence, I’m not saying I don’t care, but we just— you just—”

“Please. Let me look at the woman I love and pretend for a few moments that my damn eidetic memory won’t play back the last three months of my life like some wretched tape.”

You let him, as he holds your cobalt-colored hand and your eyes droop, his soft voice telling you that rubbing alcohol will probably get that stain out. It almost feels normal.

Almost.

paint - the final stain

“Spence! Can you get paint water out of carpet with any amount of ease?”

You call your husband, turning back to your mildly sheepish five year old, whose water color adventure on the coffee table has quickly gone south.

In walks Spencer, not even noticing the overturned hard plastic cup or purpley-blue spill, eyes going straight to his daughter’s nearly finished picture.

“Beautiful, Penny. Looks incredible.”

He murmurs, bending to be eye level with a beaming Penelope, hand on her arm, before turning to you, mild tension and stress lining your face. His smile is gentle. It’ll wash out.

“Rubbling alcohol, angel.”

You nod, tension easing from your shoulders.

“We’ll go get it - we always clean our messes up, right lovely?”

He asks your daughter, lifting her with practiced care. She giggles, nodding, as they head from the room, letting you take a breath and set up the paints and picture in a new location - the kitchen table, with some newspaper tucked underneath because she’s five, and you of all people know spills happen.

Once she’s set up again - she really is so quiet when she’s engrossed in something - you find yourself curled up with Spencer on the couch, head on his shoulder, watching her paint and sing-song to herself.

“Think she’s lonely?”

Spencer asks, turning to you, his grin wide.

Troublemaker.

“Hmm. I think you just like me pregnant.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Maybe. Maybe I don’t want Penny to be sad, ever.”

Silence, then, for a bit.

“She’s so much like you.”

Spencer muses, his fingers drawing patterns on the side of your sweater. You smile, fondly.

“You say that because I’m clumsy. She was dancing around with that paintbrush, that cup of paint water stood no chance.”

“No, I say that because she shines like you. No matter what tries to dim her.”

That night, when you peek in your daughter’s door to see Spencer reading her A Little Princess, she’s propped up against him, hazel eyes barely open. Affection swells in your chest as his voice carries on, even though she’s clearly almost in dreamland. In you walk, pressing a kiss first to her forehead, then Spencer’s. He smiles gentle up at you - this is his favorite time of the day - and keeps reading.

“Perhaps there is a language which is not made of words, and everything in the world understands it.”

Once you’re back in the living room, you check on the earlier spill from today. All that’s left is a barely visible blue spot, no bigger than a quarter.

“No one will see it but you.”

Steadying, warm arms wrap around your ribs, and soft lips press against the side of your neck, washing away any insecurity about the state of your carpet.

“Besides, stains aren’t bad, sweet girl. They’re little reminders that things happened, good things, or bad things that brought us together. Memories, attached to splotches, attached to wounds, to paper, to skin. How convenient, to carry our most impactful moments like heaven-sent tattoos.”

[growth-opportunities]

Nick's jaw hung open as he watched his date down her third beer. In his heady college days, he had been known to throw back a beer or two, but Erin's tenacity rivaled even the most besotted and liver-ruined of frat boys. When she tipped the beer back, she didn't stop, taking large gulps to pull the intoxicating liquid down her throat.

But that wasn't the only reason Nick was in awe.

His eyes flicked back and forth between the rapidly emptying mug and Erin's chest. He had noticed her shirt was particularly tight after her first beer, tighter by the second. Now, as she hastily swallowed, he couldn't deny his own eyes, watching as her breasts swelled in front of him. She hadn't been particularly well-endowed when they arrived, her clothes fitted for a modest but very much present B-cup bust. After two rounds of growth and well into the third, her clothes struggled and strained to hold back her burgeoning tits. The clasp of her bra creaked as the metal hooks bent, clinging to dear life as they made every effort to keep together. The seams of her shirt groaned as the fabric was pulled taut and then tighter still, the stitching stretched its limits. It didn't help that, as Erin drank more and more of the intoxicating, enhancing liquid, she tilted her head back, her chest stuck out, making her breasts even more obvious. Nick couldn't tell if Erin was even aware of her growth, though the fact that her nipples were clearly stiff beneath her clothes at least indicated she was feeling some kind of excitement.

Ping!

Just as she finished the last few drops, the clasp finally gave way. With the pressure relieved, her breasts surged forward, suddenly seeming to grow even larger as they freed themselves from the confines of the ruined garment. Nick swallowed, his hands twitching, his mind rushing to imagine what it would feel like to have those massive, swollen, head-dwarfing breasts in his grip, squishing against his palms, bulging out between his fingers.

He jumped as Erin slammed her empty mug on the table, turning to look at him. A drunken grin sat giddy on her lips, her eyes a bit glassed over but still managing to maintain focus on him. She licked her lips and leaned forward, her breasts bulging as she squished them against the top of the table.

"Whaddya say, babe? 'Nother round?"

Nick just swallowed, Erin erupting in a fit of giggles. She rose up out of her chair, nearly slipping, making her breasts bounce as she caught herself. More wobbling shook her chest as she raised her hand and attempted to flag down the waiter. Nick didn't know how much Erin could drink, but he was eager to find out.

[lustlovehart]

Soft Clipped Feathers

A/n: Really Self-Indulgent for Sundays realese today.

Pairing: Sunday x Reader

Summary: You’ve grown tired of staying in the hidden nest that is Sundays arms, yet you can’t bring yourself to really leave that comfort. So, you do the only thing that can alleviate this want, use Sundays infatuation for yourself. (1.3k words)

Warnings: [Yandere], Possesion, Manipulation, Implied NSFW & Suggestive, Reader lowkey plays with Sunday (And it backfires LMAO), Themes of codependency, Sunday and Reader get filthy? Very unholy you two, Tiny (Big) obsession from Sunday, Uhm they make out on the floor?? Idk if that needs a tag

There’s a certain petulance in the room you sit in. Stained windows filled with colorful sectors, unify into a beautiful image of a Dove… falling victim to the hunter who sang false truths in its flight of freedom.

“You’ve been staring at the window for quite some time.” The man who claims himself to be the representation of the holiest of days, speaks into the once-relaxing silence of the room. He displays himself as a savior, yet you know better than to trust hunters, they’ve always believed their prey to be the lone sustenance for their fortune. “It’s lovely isn’t it?”

“Not really. I just don’t feel like looking at a man flaunting his feathers.”

“You liked when that IPC worker did. Did you not?” Sunday takes a step closer, to the wooden bench you rest on, his gloved hand caressing your skin. He traces up your arm, thumb ghosting your lips, bestowing a gentle tap on your mouth. It’s akin to a kiss really, if you could count it.

It doesn’t matter though, you’ve kissed plenty of times, and it makes no difference whether you do it with or without clothes. Though, the remembrance makes you shudder. Fingers dancing on your skin, blankets surrounding your intertwined bodies. A romantic scene really, if it weren’t for the fact you imagined the cool cruel silver, to be a chilling night in penacony.

“No, that was just jealousy blinding you, Sunday.” The man pulls away, his wings fluttering ever so slightly.

“Jealousy is the trait of men with no virtues, inharmonious men.” He speaks the word inharmonious, like treason.

“Well, it seems this room is filled with impropriety then hm?” You lean further into the mahogany, hoping somehow, someway, the wood will take liquid form and drown you. Yet you know it won’t. A trio of buttons undo on your blouse from the action, Sunday watching with great intent.

A majority of your chest is now on full display, to Sunday and each piece of art in the room. The eyes in the stained glass, those sculpted pupils of those statues, yet the only gaze you feel is his. Halovian eyes dilate at the sight, he’s quick to look into your eyes when you notice his entrance.

The garment was far too tight on you, but you had no urge to change out of it. Perhaps an unconscious act of rebellion to Sundays put together attire, perfectly fitting his form.

“Your clothes are astray.” He points out the detail as if you didn’t know. You don’t have the chance to reply before you feel Sunday nudge his way into your spot on the bench, towering over you as gloved fingers quickly work to redo the buttons. “Still, it would be dishonorable, for you, if someone saw you this way.” He emphasizes the ‘for you’ as if you cared.

You clasp your hands around his, effectively pausing his movements. He inhales when you pull him down, wind rushing through his hair. This adrenaline is further ensued, when the only thing stopping him from touching bare skin, is the cloth he’s attempting to redo.

In truth, this is the only way you feel to have any control of your fate. His affections for you are wide, yet narrow too. Wide in a way you can feel yourself drown in this so-called adoration, but narrow to a point you could never fully move through it. The rare moments you have with him, where you have him in a cage, is when you entangle him in the love he sought from you so deeply.

Though, this cage will always be unlocked for a free bird like him. But for you, you’ll forever be doomed to roam on the floor, those soft feathers of yours, clipped to never breathe air again.

“If someone saw us like this, that would only solidify what you want.” Your voice is low, warm air blowing on Sunday's neck. His knee is placed between your legs, his elbow being the sole pillar from his ravish on your being. His eyes trail between your eyes and your lips, those golden optics widening when you suddenly lean up.

Now you’re truly testing a man of virtue. A dangerous endeavor indeed.

“What do you plan to do?” His question doesn’t match the look in his eyes, you should know, his eyes are centimeters from yours, and so are your lips. The wings from his head flutter down, gentle feathers caressing your skin; successfully covering the visage of your surroundings.

All that’s left to see is Sunday.

“Do you plan to do this, and go to sleep satisfied at testing my countenance?” You don’t answer him, yet again, he didn’t want a reply. “Or will you finally change your ways? As you’ve promised at confessional time and time again.”

Oh, he knew that was you?

“Sunday—” you’re cut short when a kiss is delegated on your temple, any retort dying immediately at his placating.

“It’s okay, I’ll forgive you,” His arm falls to brush your cheek, the leather from his glove squeaking at the movement. “As long as you listen.” he stops talking after the final sentence, only softly gazing into your eyes. It’s uncomfortable, and piercing. It’s a strikingly familiar gaze to that of a husband, which Sunday is anything but.

“You…” Your words are strained, it’s a pain to face the reality you willingly put yourself into with him. “Sunday…” You grit your teeth, roughly pushing Sunday to the marble floor, bodies falling in unison.

Once again, you’re left in the only position you feel comfortable, making Sunday fall victim to your charms. At this point. Your shirt has already fallen down your shoulder, and your back is on cold flooring.

You take a deep breath in, before enacting your act of rebellion to this so-called man of virtue. You shall strip this room of its purity. But, to be transparent…

There’s no purity left in this room, for it’s not a beautiful art gallery of glass and statues. It’s the home you’ve always lived in. It’s the cruelest joke of all, you have the freedom to go where you wish, but you don’t, you stay.

“This world isn’t kind,” Sunday kisses your palm as he lays his head on your chest, the soft beating of your heart turning his own. “Wait until I’ve made it so.” You’re not sure what he means, but you nod… at the time.

Maybe it’s because of his words, or maybe simply fear for the unkind world he speaks of. Sometimes, you wish for a reality where you step into this cruel world, only then do hatchlings grow strength in their wings.

Now though, wings that have been clipped, have no chance of regaining that opportunity.

In one motion, you take his handsome face into your palms, pulling him roughly to your lips, his own hands finding refuge on your waist, pulling you down into him. It’s filthy and self-indulgent, but all you can do.

When you disconnect to breathe, a trail of saliva connects your lips, a reminder of the everbinding hold he has on you. If you think positively, it could also refer to how deep this infatuation with you, has implemented itself into Sunday's core.

Maybe the simple sight of you, reminds Sunday what it is he strives to do in reality, create a sanctuary of peace. Not you though, he’s the only one allowed to feel your comfort.

You dive back in, ready to drown in the essence that is harmony, through his lips.

…

You wake up to the colorful sight of stained glass, the same sight of a Dove and a hunter invading your pupils. There’s something different though.

There’s a hole in place of the Dove's heart, the window shattered, but only in that sole spot.

The blanket draped over you slides off as you leave the marble platform, but you’re stopped when a firm forearm wraps around your waist, effectively pulling you back. You look back at the perpetrator with a glare.

“Sunday, you’re a man of manners, you’ll be late for… whatever you have going on today.” it’s a pathetic attempt to get him off. Of course it doesn’t work.

“You’re right, but I won’t be late.” you continue to stare at the image, only vaguely listening to Sunday's words.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?" Considering it’s only the morning after…. what you’ve done, your urge to be spiteful isn’t as strong as yesterdays. You wish that wasn’t so.

“You’re coming with me.” He says it so softly, it doesn’t register completely in your mind. But when it does, you wonder if the dove was attempting to warn you.

“You’re… Making me leave…?” You turn around, facing the man that continues to lay next to you.

“No, I’m making you stay, with me.”

…

It seems you’re no longer a bird with freedom to walk anywhere you want anymore either. You’re left flightless, and freedomless.

But…

“I see…” You don’t fight, not like he expected you to do. Not like… you expected to do so either. You lie back down, burying yourself into the blanket with him, burying yourself into Sunday. His arms surround you in a warm embrace.

Maybe it’s your own fault for flying into this hunters trap, with your own free will.

Hahaha, please come him with my 0 pity and 80 pulls Mr.Sunday :). Alsooo, I hope this is good, because, confession… I haven’t finished the penacony quest, only the first one 😬

[defmaybe]

Cherry

NMIXX’s Oh Haewon x Male Reader

2.5k words

A/N: Dawg. Another BFH fic, I promise I’ll reduce the output rate lol. Also, thanks to @djnayeon for inspiring this with a fucking Shrek gif lol. Thanks for reading!!!

—

Haewon tosses a torn piece of paper with a scribble on it.

My dorm, 602

—

You stand in front of a dormitory, exuding malice with its structure–black, trapezoid, dystopian. A buzzer then signals you to enter. The glassy doors slide open, giving the sight of its stark interior. 

You trail through the rotating stairs, seeing your destination up high. Each step grows heavier, as her room comes closer and closer. Fatigue sets in. Fuck.

But just as you’re about to give up, the number appears on the door right in front of you—602.

Thank fuck.

You knock on the door, as the customs—three times, knock, knock, knock. You wait. You wait. You wait. It’s an eternity of ten seconds. Before the door swings open, giving you the sight of an olive-haired woman, dressed in a tight, cream top, with the pants that leaves little to your imagination.

“Get in,” Haewon orders, annoyance spreads on her expression. “Don’t fucking ogle me right now, keep it to when I fuck your brains out.”

You settle yourself inside her room immediately. It’s tidy, perfect for a lone living space–bed over here, bathroom over there, table by the bed. It’s everything you’d expect from this type of room. Then, you catch the Imaginal Disk vinyl sitting above a player, with other ones: Alvvays, Emotion, Keepsake.

“Come,” Haewon orders, snapping you out of the trance. “Eat my cunt.”

—

“Fucking pervert,” she huffs, as the wet squelches of your tongue lapping up her tangy nectar carry through the room. Her tempting lush folds only heighten your lust further. And despite the nonchalant verbal expressions, her quivering nails gripping on your scalp seem to have their objections. Oh, the woman that you are, Haewon.

Long gone, her lower garments, leaving her in a cream top. Every blow of wind would give the view of her erect nubs from time to time, What a sight. Not to add, her luscious, creamy thighs only sate your unquenchable thirst.

Right now, your world is only her—her glistening cunt, to be exact. You need to take all of her for yourself—every square millimeter of her velvety flesh, every strand of her silk, every drop of her salty liquid gushing out in arousal. You alternate between her juicy folds and the swollen nub, sweeping her sensitive area for all you can. “Ah! Fuck!” And you earn a wailing from her.

You’re sure that the crescent marks are going to be visible until at least the next week, eliciting some laughs and giggles from your prudish peers. But they will never know what an ecstasy it is to be eating Haewon’s pussy like this, with the mixture of your fluids running down your chin.

“F-Fuck, yeah, just like that, boy toy,” Haewon moans. “Keep eating my pussy like this and I’ll fuck your ass until you can’t walk.”

The promise of her plastic phallus pushes you up among the clouds. God, her artificial cock plowing your ass, making you her bitch. Every thrust ramming your prostate to your own brim, as you moan like a fucking cockslut you are–hungry for her domination.

You part her wet folds at an even quicker speed. “F-Fuck, boy toy, you’ve improved, haven’t you?”

“Life is a learning, mommy,” you answer through the act. Haewon lets go of your sore head, instead using her palms, softly pressing your head onto her instead.

“Witty, I like that.” And you just whimper out in response.

Her stream of lubricant won’t seem to stop, and it’s like you’d complain about her taste–tangy, intense, robust. While the scent, far from the flowers of the springs, only shackles you by the throat to keep eating her cunt like there’s no tomorrow. It’s intoxicating, she’s intoxicating, fuck.

Queued, her legs shake, signaling the pending orgasm on your face. “M-Mommy’s gonna cum soon, boy toy. Keep eating my cunt just like that,” Haewon commands.

With her words, your touches become more intense, eager to please your mommy to her climax. You wait for her torrent on your pretty face.

And just like that, her legs shake, a fountain of her squirt paints your features. You let your tongue out to taste her liquid–clear, yet intense like her aggression.

“Fuck, yes, drink it up, you dirty cuntslut,” she grunts, body still convulsing from the pleasure. God, quite a thesaurus she has.

Her squirt flows for a few more heartbeats into your welcoming mouth until she comes down from her climax. Her juice comes out just as slow as her subsiding breathing.

“F-Fuck, that was good, boy toy,” Haewon huffs, smiling, before her voice would become low again. “Now get on the bed, get that asshole ready.”

On a whim, you jump back first onto her bed, with her plushies jumping a bit upon your landing. You quickly push your pants off, and your cock springs out. Not to mention your eager puckered hole, so ready for her rough pounding.

Haewon picks up a harness with a dildo on it–daunting in its length, outrageous in its girth. You aren’t walking normally to your dorm today.

“I-It’s so big, m-mommy,” you whimper.

Standing, latching her strap, she bends forward to speak, “A slut like you deserves to be stretched out, don’t you?”

“Y-Yes, mommy.”

“I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.” She finishes the last lock of her strap-on, before discarding her creamy top, displaying her tits in glory.

“Give me the lube, it’s above your head,” she orders, and you toss her the red bottle from the cabinet above you.

“Ready?” Haewon asks, stroking her plastic cock with a strawberry-scented lubricant.

“Yes, mommy.”

Boldly, she pounces on your thighs for a grip–so tightly. Her glistening length is merely an inch away from you. She grins–so malevolent.

Boldly, her length pierces your tightness, inch by inch. Fuck, it’s stretching you out. You’re fighting the urge to moan, like you haven’t been under her assertion all this time.

“Hmm~, so ready for mommy.”

Boldly, she buries her plastic cock up to the hilt, hitting the little spot called the prostate. It sends shocks through you, and she seems to be satisfied with your contorted expression.

Boldly, you moan, so loud, too loud. And she giggles at the sight.

“Can’t handle my cock, baby?” she says, as she slowly slides the length out.

“Ngh,” you cry out. The filling inside you agonizingly disappears. But as you thought she’d pull out all the way, she rams herself back into you. “Ahhh. Fuck.”

Haewon chuckles at you, pulling out again. And it begins, the rhythm of her dominance.

You become pliant for her–to touch, to play with, to fuck. She gains her tempo in messaging your inner walls. “Keep moaning like that, boy toy, It’s a song to me.”

Your mind is lost in the stars, only moans and whimpers to follow her orders. “Ngh, ahhh, mmmh.” Her pounding is so rough, yet it only fuels your fire further.

“Y-Your cock is so good, mommy.”

“I know, boy toy, I know you’d love my cock like a slut you are,” Haewon responds with a chuckle. Her hips strike your ass faster, hitting your prostate at the bullseye with each jerk. “Say it, who’s my little slut.”

You take a deep breath, before responding, “I-I’m your slut, mommy.”

“Louder.”

You take another deep breath, before shouting this time, “I’M YOUR SLUT, MOMMY.”

“Good boy, good fucking boy,” Haewon says, before dragging out her pace as she pants.

“Wha-What are you doing, mommy?” you ask, voice shaking with worry.

“I-I need your cum inside me, c’mere,” Haewon huffs, as she pulls in your thighs until they press against hers. The plastic cock points up along with yours.

“Can’t have your cock go soft before I, ugh,” she grunts, forcefully attempting to unbuckle the strap from herself. “Why the fuck is it so hard?”

“Nghhhh, mommyyy, please just fuck me already,” you groan out, being pulled away from the precipice second by second.

A forceful slap lands on your ass, “Ah! Fuck!”, the red mark of Haewon’s hand is probably imprinted on a canvas called you.

“You’re in no position to exert your needs here, alright? Shut the fuck up!” Haewon shouts, voice raspy, and you can do nothing but comply. “You’re so fucking lucky that I let you get a taste of my cunt. If you’re pulling some shit like this again, I’ll fucking hang you on the edge, alright?”

“Y-Y-Yes, mommy,” you whimper, voice shaking.

“Now, let me get this ugh- fucking strap off.” She struggles with it a bit more, until she finally tears it off, revealing her aroused sex for you once again. “Fucking finally.”

And it’s quick—the way she quickly envelops your cock within her drenched folds. And it plays out by the cowgirl’s book—her supple ass sliding up and down your cock, your moans, her moans (even if hers are in a much lower register–more like a groan per se).

“Nghhhh.”

“Fuckkkk.”

“M-Mommy!”

“Ah!”

The cacophony fills Haewon’s room, combined with the mess of fleshes clapping into each other. The allegro tempo makes it easier for you to make your eyes flutter in raw, unscathed ecstasy. The storm is still far away, but you can see it. You can see it. Lightning. The sound of it. The small drops of water on your arms, signaling the whirlwind of a release in the distance.

With her movement, your eyes keep alternating between her bouncing, luscious mounds and the sight of your cock disappearing into her. This shit is fucking hypnotizing.

“Don’t you dare go fucking other slut, understand? I-I only have you.”

Her first tinge of genuine affection. Your heartbeat quickens even more at her words.

“Y-Yes, ah, mommy,” you respond.

And somehow, boldly, Haewon captures you with her cherry-flavored lips–ardent, confident, ass still grinding on your filthy cock. She keeps gasping for air, but her tongue sweeps every square millimeter of your dirty, lustful mouth. She cups your face tight.

But before you can revel in the act, Haewon pulls back from the kiss. Her face is now flushed, eyes elsewhere with hands wiping the saliva away. And you smile.

“The fuck you’re smiling at, huh? Just fucking cum inside me, boy toy, fill me up.”

Your voice isn’t shaky anymore, reinvigorated by the kiss. “Okay, mommy.”

Haewon rides you faster, upping the tempo of yourselves clashing together. Her tight, velvety walls are calls of the storm. It’s raining now, and flashes and flashes of lightning can be seen from afar.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I-I’m gonna cum,” she moans, as her body atop of you shakes–violent, unyielding. She keeps the pace for her sex to be impaled by your length. Her juicy thighs lose their controls. Her breaths grow shorter. And her wanton cunt is quivering.

And she cums, “Fuck, shit!” Streams of clear juice leaks out in a torrent, legs trembling once again. Her whole body convulses, mouth open, you’d do anything just to see this again.

But she won’t stop just here.

“Now, your turn.” Haewon recollects herself up to a languid pace, opposite to the frantic tempo earlier. She’s definitely fucking with you now.

“Oh, my toy is frustrated because I’m not riding him fast enough?” Haewon pouts, and of course it is a sarcastic one. She doesn’t seem to let you have your pleasure yet.

“What if I–” Haewon swipes her lips with a finger, gathering a hue of coral on it. “–do this?”

Slowly, she docks the digit on your needy lips, pasting the tinge along them.

Slowly, she pushes her finger into your mouth, giving you the taste of cherry.

“Like that, you slut?”

“Yes, mommy.”

Slowly, you envelop her slender digit with a warm welcome–eyes closed, humming through the act.

Slowly, she sweeps your cavern, spreading the fruity paste everywhere, and you surely forget about how slow her tight cunt is pressing onto you right now.

“Mmmmmm,” you moan, sucking her digit. The taste only entices you more.

“Yeah, suck mommy’s finger like a bitch you are,” she says, and you just can’t deny that–her finger and the title.

Here you are, surrendered to her conquest, sucking her finger with an incomparable hunger. The submission just becomes innate now; you are so ready to give her the full control.

Without a warning, she finally ramps up her pace, slamming her wet, dainty cunt down your cock with more frenzy.

“Ah, ah, nghh, fuck, mommy~” you cry out, so lost in the haze.

“Breed me, fucking breed me.” Haewon looks up onto the ceiling as her groan fills the room. “I want to feel your seed hitting my womb, only yours.”

Thunders start to strike the ground with each thrust–bang, bang, bang. Each one has the determination to set the fire inside you alight.

“I-I think I’m cumming, mommy, a-are you sure about this?” You can feel it, the spark of it.

She huffs, “F-Fuck yeah, I want a creampie this time, boy toy.”

You start to grow greedy, despite the fear of her punishment. Still, it’s like you’d care right now, with any of her so-called disciplinary actions only pushing you towards the edge. You pump your cock upwards to match her slams.

“Hmm~, putting in some work too?” Haewon bends down to ruffle your hair, pouting. “So adorable for mommy~.”

Again, she captures you with her lips, every moan, every whimper, every cry is contained within the connection. You can feel it, the little fires everywhere. It’s only a matter of time until it merges into a raging inferno.

“M-Mommy~.”

And it burns, deep into her womb. Your cock paints ropes and ropes of essence within her needy cunt, as you scream deep into her lungs. The blaze consumes both of you, still fighting with your tongues. Your hips jerk with each shot, “Ngh, ngh, ngh,” and your back becomes an arch.

Eventually, the fire is gone, only the remnants of the burns left. Haewon pants against you as you do so, foreheads touching, smiling.

“You’re just fucking fun to use, you know that?” she says, before latching onto your quivering lips.

Long gone, the ardor buried within you two, replaced by something else, something you can’t quite pinpoint. Haewon kisses you, and you kiss her back with the remaining passion for her that’s left inside you.

Finally, she pulls back from you, a string of saliva connects you two in the separation. She’s smiling.

“I love being your little boy toy too, Haewon,” you say, she laughs. Before she gets down from the ride, lying next to you. Your cum leaks out of her cunt onto the bedsheets.

“Wanna do this again?” Haewon asks.

“Definitely, maybe.”

“Maybe?” Haewon furrows her brows, getting up to look you in the eye. “I fucking dicked you down until you moaned like that and you say ‘maybe’?”

You chuckle with the statement, before turning your back to her, “Cuddle me please, mommy.”

“Sure.” Haewon says, smiling, as she lies down again, hugging your frame from behind, ready to go through this nocturne together.

—

[bt-writing]

Mr. Crawling x Reader

A/N: chat i wrote my first NSFW. i have absolutely ADORED playing Homicipher this last week or so and i had to write something good for my man🙏🙏 this piece is based off of Ending 17 where he saves you from Mr. Stitch, i hope you enjoy!! (also, yes, the monster tongue is minecraft enchantment table lololol). AFAB reader, NSFW ending available on my ao3 linked at the end.

Word Count: 7.2k

Needy with Worry

***

Nearly every wall in this god-forsaken realm seemed to drip with the same mysterious, wet substance. It pooled within the valleys of the steel floor plates that lined the walkways and cultivated mold along the cove joints in offshoot rooms. No surface inside this liminal hell-hole was spared from the viscous liquid's presence. It was a sensory nightmare to look at, let alone touch. You wondered how Mr. Crawling dealt with his clothes trailing through it constantly without begging The Bride for a change.

The floor-bound specter in question blissfully followed behind you as you traversed the monster world's boundless hallways, oblivious to any discomfort that his soiled yukata might bring him.

"Your clothes," you pointed down at the man's black garment. "Water ruin. You dislike?" You tried, conveying your concern as best as you could in monster tongue.

"No ruin. Clothes good. A lot of water ruin time," Mr. Crawling replied with a stretched grin. It seems he'd gotten used to the fabric having a soaked trim all the time. The thought of it alone made you long for your bed in the overworld, warmly clad in fuzzy pajamas and safe from any cold, mystery liquid sticking to your body.

You found yourself extending your hand to pat Mr. Crawling's head fondly.

"If we ever get out of here, I'll teach you what socks are," you said wistfully.

He tilted his head curiously, not fully understanding your words. You dismissed his confusion with a brief wave and continued your trek down the dimly lit pathway.

There were a lot of things you had come to miss from the human world. Things you had taken for granted, like safety and comfort and food. God, what you wouldn't give for a hot meal. For every moment you spent lost in the underworld, the duller the pangs of hunger had grown. It was just as Mr. Silvair had hypothesized. The longer you stay in this foreign place, the more your body will change. But, even if you were losing your biological need to eat, the thought of some shitty fast food right now made your mouth water.

You'd have to teach Mr. Crawling about human food, too. The only thing you'd ever seen the man eat was ears, and you were convinced there had to be better tasting things from the human world that he could try. Surely.

Come to think of it, there were a lot of things you wanted to show Mr. Crawling from the human world. He had no reason to, and yet, ever since falling into this place, the ghostly man had made it his duty to stay by your side and protect you from the various "danger persons" lurking the underworld. He taught you his language, kept you safe, kept you happy—or as happy as the given situation allotted for. You wanted to return the favor. But, instead of showing him how to survive, you wanted to show him how to enjoy. There was so much joy to be had in the overworld. Mr. Crawling wasn't meant to stay in such a dark, violent place. He was better than the monster realm. He was kind.

Once you found that goddamn elevator again, you determined that you would bring Mr. Crawling home with you.

"Exit find, together safe place go?" you asked Mr. Crawling tentatively. You weren't sure if it was even possible for him to leave the underworld, whether he wanted to or not. But, the thought of parting from the crawling entity made your heart ache more than you cared to admit.

Your heart wasn't the only thing left aching, however, as your body collided with the hard concrete floor. Mr. Crawling hovered over you, smiling like an over-excited dog. His silky, black hair kissed your blushing cheeks as it draped down from his face.

"Me together you! Together safe place! Happy, happy!" he exclaimed. You'd never seen anyone get so excited at the prospect of simply being with you, it nearly brought tears to your eyes. You swallowed the burn in your throat with a chuckle and gently pushed the man off you.

As you neared the end of the spanning hallway, a metal door caked in rust came into view.

Finally, you thought. Even if the next room proved equally as tedious as this one had, it felt like faux progress was at least being made.

Before your hand could twist its knob, cold fingers wrapped around your ankle, bringing your movements to a halt.

"Do not. Danger." Crawling's mouth pressed into a thin line as he looked towards the door. Through the tension in the air, you noticed an eerie squelching noise coming from the other side.

But, what else could you really do? Who knows how long the two of you had been walking down this hallway, and you desperately wanted not to give up and turn back. There was nowhere else to go but forwards.

You gave Mr. Crawling a look that conveyed there was regretfully no other choice. Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself for whatever laid ahead.

The first thing you noticed after entering through the door was the horrible stench. The overwhelming smell of blood and iron weighed heavy in your lungs as goose bumps raced across your skin. It wasn't a smell unfamiliar to the underworld, but nowhere else had it been so concentrated. You were hardly two full steps into the room and your determination was already wavering.

Your eyes found the source of the putrid smell inhabiting the opposite corner of the tiled room. There, someone sat hunched over, eagerly digging into what could only be described as a mass of blood, guts, and flesh on the floor. The noise they made as their hands shifted around the entrails of a mutilated carcass was nauseatingly potent, inescapable, as if it were reverberating inside your skull itself.

The person stopped their rummaging to look back at you from over their shoulder. Through the blood splattered across their face, you recognized them to be the resident you'd dubbed 'Mr. Stitch'. Every encounter with Mr. Stitch thus far had proven to be unsettling; he was certainly a monster you didn't want to stumble across whilst exploring alone. The patch-work man didn't seem to share your apprehensive sentiments whatsoever and quickly sprang up to his feet.

"Hello!" Mr. Stitch greeted enthusiastically, fresh blood and unidentifiable chunks of meat dripping from his lips. "You again! Glad!"

You noticed he had gained a new article of clothing since you last saw him wallowing about in boredom. It was a fur lined jacket, the color indecipherable underneath a wet layer of blood. As your eyes fell to the corpse on the ground, your stomach dropped in grim realization. Your meeting with the other human was brief, yet, there was an undeniable comfort in knowing someone else from the overworld shared your experience in this nightmare. Now, they were torn to unrecognizable shreds before you.

"Human," was all you could manage to squeak out as terror gripped your entirety.

Mr. Stitch pulled on the edges of his new coat proudly and nodded, "Me find they. Play together. ʖᒷᔑℸ. Take this!"

You didn't need to understand his words to piece together what had happened in this room. A sense of urgency rapidly overtook your being. The exit was currently being blocked by the murder scene and its perpetrator. Was Mr. Stitch satisfied with his kill? Would he simply let you pass, just as he'd done the other times?

Your answer came as he wiped his mouth with the back of his discolored hand and stepped towards you and Mr. Crawling.

"You play together me?"

His smile was a sickening void that threatened to swallow you whole. This monster was obviously still riding the high from his recent kill, and your frightened expression must have been like dope for him.

"No play together," you softly shook your head, trying not to convey more fear than you already let on. Mr. Stitch's smile fell for a moment, disappointment washing over his face, before it returned in full force accompanied by a whisper:

"Too bad."

A scream came from your throat as bony fingers dug into your hips. Mr. Stitch lifted you over his shoulder with paranormal ease and, leaving you no time to process the turn of events, sprinted towards the exit.

"You! Don't! Don't!"

You could barely hear Mr. Crawling cry out after you. The sound of Stitch's feet pounding the pavement bounced off the walls. Your vision shook with each step. Using one hand, you used your kidnapper's shoulder to stabilize yourself, and with the other hand began to beat against his back as hard as you could. He let out a gleeful chuckle at your feeble attempt to fight back.

"Fun, fun! They come?" Mr. Stitch laughed, momentarily glancing backwards.

You looked up as well. In the distant shadows, you could make out a visibly distraught Mr. Crawling rounding the corner on his hands and knees. You were scared, but the sight of your companion hot on your captor's heels was reassuring. He'd never let you be separated from him willingly, he'd proven that many times before.

Before you could call out to Crawling, Mr. Stitch ducked into a nearby room and slammed the door behind him. The air was expelled from your lungs as he tossed you carelessly onto the floor. While Stitch fiddled with the lock, you took a moment to observe your surroundings. The room had the same solemn emptiness of a hospital's sleeping quarters. There was a single mattress that rested on a shaky bed frame. More noticeable was the large, dirty window that peered into the hallway you had just been carried down.

You heard frantic rattling coming from the locked door Mr. Stitch held shut. It persisted for a few moments before it went completely silent. An anxious knot built in your stomach as Stitch slowly backed away, confident the door would hold against Mr. Crawling's efforts on its own.

THUD. THUD THUD THUD.

Startled, your neck snapped to the window, where Mr. Crawling was rapidly beating on the pane of glass separating you from him. His pale grey lips were turned into an angry frown.

You failed to notice Mr. Stitch moving back towards you. A yelp escaped your lips as he harshly gripped your nape, picking you up off the floor and slamming your head against the window.

"Stop! Don't!"

You could barely hear Crawling's muffled plea through the ringing in your ears. The impact left you disoriented. A lopsided grin befell Stitch's messy face.

"They angry! Me take you, they angry!" he cackled in amusement, pressing a red fingertip against the glass to point and laugh at the poor man.

"Let me go, asshole," you growled out, struggling against the hand that dug into your neck.

Your aggressive tone only served to spur on the otherworldly monster. Mr. Stitch pushed his lean body flush against your back, squeezing your torso between himself and the cold glass that separated you from Mr. Crawling. The hand that held your head in place slowly brought its calloused fingers to cup your jaw. A horrible spark of vulnerability shot down your spine as your neck was exposed. At the same time, Stitch tilted your hips back and trailed his fingers across your abdomen in a taunting motion.

"Touch you, they dislike," his hot breath whispered into your ear. Even if you couldn't see his face, a cheshire grin was audible in his words. "Fun."

Mr. Stitch held your face at an odd angle. Looking down as much as you could, the sight on the other side of the glass made your heart skip a beat.

Mr. Crawling had stopped banging on the transparent barrier and instead, with large palms pressed flat against the panel, stared directly at Stitch, who was enjoying every single moment of his distress.

You gasped in discomfort. A wet tongue dragged itself from your ear lobe and down your jaw, lapping up any bead of fear-laced sweat it could find until stopping in the dip of your collarbone. The feeling of the monster's slimy tongue against your skin was vile; any effort to escape his touch was met with a harsh shove against the window.

"G-ah!" you cried out in pain.

Stitch's sharp teeth dug into the crook of your neck violently. Thick ripples of blood poured out from the canine indents below your throat. Your neck throbbed with hot pain. This bastard had actually bit you.

With an excited ferocity, that hungry tongue was right back against your flesh, his choppy pink hair tickling your jawline as he drank from the wound he created.

"Want consume human," he purred in desire.

Your stomach dropped, and before he could bite down again, an ear-piercing crack! came from the entrance of the room. Lost in his feeding frenzy against your neck, neither of you noticed Mr. Crawling had resumed his assault against the door—which, this time was so powerful it had splintered the door nearly in two.

"ᓭ⍑╎ℸ !" Stitch yelled in surprise. He clearly had gotten so lost in the taste of your blood that he'd forgotten to pay attention to your very angry guardian.

Cr-ack! A wooden plank flew off the door.

And back over Mr. Stitch's shoulder you went. With long strides, he bounded out of the room through the door that wasn't half wood chips and sprinted down a musty, brick-lined hallway.

The adrenaline rush was audible in his half-gasp, half-laughs as he turned down another corner in the dimly lit corridor. Stitch slowed his pace and looked back expectantly to see if the black-clad resident was still coming. He actually wanted Mr. Crawling to keep chasing him.

Coarse shuffling could be heard in the darkness. Both you and Mr. Stitch were stuck in place at the sight of Mr. Crawling, who was no longer crawling, but standing so tall he had to tilt his head so as to not hit the ceiling. His giant figure swayed slightly as he took a few slow steps towards you.

"You don't."

There was a silent fury in his smile that made even you scared, though you knew the man would never direct his anger at you. When you first met Mr. Crawling, it was true that he frightened you. The way he crawled along the ground was a bit uncanny, and the bloody stains where eyes should be was something you'd find straight out of a horror movie—hell, that went for this entire place—but the way he stood before you now was a different kind of terrifying. His presence alone felt inescapable and threatening-

That's it. He's trying to intimidate Mr. Stitch by standing upright.

"They stand! They angry!" cheered your tormenter.

Stitch was significantly smaller than Mr. Crawling, but much more agile. Crawling had told you before that he preferred not to walk. Maybe it's because he's not good at walking? His steps were slow and steady, but he was probably putting all his effort into the small movement. You couldn't really imagine the man running.

On the other hand, Mr. Stitch had turned tail and hauled you down the hallway and into a new room once again.

"Under sheet, go."

On the back end of the room was a long, white curtain that he pulled shut, concealing the two of you at a glance. Your heartbeat drummed softly in your ears, anticipating Mr. Crawling to burst into the room like your knight in shining armor and save you from the man who was itching to eat you alive. But Mr. Crawling never came.

"He not want?" Mr. Stitch pondered, looking back and forth between the slit in the curtain and your anxious face beside him. He finally settled on watching you. "Me take you, he dislike. Why?" he asked curiously.

His blue eye stared intensely into your own, as if they held the answer as to why Mr. Crawling wanted you back so desperately. You shifted uncomfortably beneath his gaze, which only caused him move in closer, like a predator stalking his prey, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Mr. Stitch's hips hovered above your own, his hands straddling your sides. You leaned your head back as far as you could manage in a pathetic attempt to distance yourself from him, but the compromising position on the floor made it difficult to do so. A devious smile stretched over his face.

"They like you?"

A soft blush painted your cheeks. Mr. Crawling had said many times before that he 'like you' and 'want together you,' but you had never really interpreted it as anything but innocent, the same way a dog would enjoy your company and want to stay by your side. At least, that was what you had kept telling yourself, that Mr. Crawling craved your companionship and not you in particular. Lately however, you weren't entirely sure. Several times had the man gone out of his way to protect you, always making sure to ask 'are you okay?' and 'hurt exist?' in the aftermath of danger. And, as much as you hated to admit it, his concern for you gave you butterflies. The way his cold hands would run through your hair to comfort you, or how he would cover your body with his much larger one to shield you from the more dangerous residents of the underworld, it always left you with a warm, tingly feeling. You chewed your lip softly.

"They like me," you affirmed. Stitch's eyes lit up with this information, filling you with dread.

"I see. They like you. They dislike you gone," he brought his hand to trace dangerously along your throat. You clenched your teeth. "You die, they dislike. They upset, they angry!"

Woosh.

"S-stop!"

Cr-unch.

You sat in shock. You had fully expected Mr. Stitch's hand to wrap around your throat and slowly squeeze the life out of you. Instead, weight was quickly thrown off your body when a grey hand shot through the curtain and pulled him away. A splatter of blood followed his cry for mercy and tainted the virgin white curtains separating you from what was most likely Mr. Stitch's obliterated corpse.

Your breath caught in your throat as that same hand gripped the stained sheet and pulled it open.

Mr. Crawling!

His hands were warm and wet as they cupped your face gently, but you didn't care one bit. It felt so good to be back in his arms.

"Are you okay? You hurt?" he asked, inspecting every inch of your face meticulously. One hand left your cheek and delicately hovered over the bloody bite mark above your collarbone. It still hurt quite a bit, but you figured the adrenaline was working to mask most of the pain.

"Please don't worry. Me good," you spoke just above a whisper, returning his gesture and cupping his face in your shaky hands.

Mr. Crawling let a deep sigh slip past his frowning lips before he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer, resting his head on your non-injured shoulder.

"They take you. Me surprised," he held you tighter, "they hurt you, me angry."

He really knew how to make your heart flutter without even meaning to.

"I'm okay, really. Don't worry," you knew he couldn't understand what you were saying, but you were too exhausted to care at the moment. "Thank you," you said, wrapping your arms around him.

"Me protect you. You don't go again. Together."

You could tell the whole affair had really shaken the sweet man up quite a bit. He hated to be apart from you. He probably felt helpless watching Stitch hurt you and not being able to stop it. You stroked his hair in a sympathetic motion.

"There, there. Me nice resident go. They heal me," you reassured. After some time, your body typically healed pretty quickly on its own in the monster world, but you figured going to see Mr. Silvair about your injury couldn't hurt, and maybe it would put Mr. Crawling at ease, too.

He sat still for a second before slowly nodding his head against your shoulder. You smiled to yourself at his childlike behavior. It felt nice to hold each other like this.

Did... did you like Mr. Crawling?

You sat still, taking in the way his nose dug into your collarbone, his soft breaths tickling your skin as he exhaled. He fit so naturally against you. His huge palms rested against the curves and dips of your back in a way that made you feel small, but safe. Your face felt warm.

Shit.

. . . .

It didn't take long for the two of you to find your way back to Mr. Silvair's territory.

Mr. Chopped greeted you with his usual chipper 'hello!' but quickly squinted his eyes, hiding from the sight of blood running down your neck with a 'blood! scared, scared'!

Hearing the commotion that Mr. Chopped was causing, Mr. Silvair peeked his head out of his room with his ever-present eerie smile. You gave him a sheepish wave and pointed to your wound.

"Me hurt. You fix? Heal?" you asked.

The lanky, silver haired man nodded, happy with any opportunity to 'fix,' as he loved to do.

"Me fix. There, wait," he said, pointing a thin finger towards the bed against the wall, and disappeared back into his private room.

You sat down just as Silvair ordered, and Mr. Crawling took his place dutifully besides you. You had a feeling he'd be more clingy than usual for some time. Which was a scary thought; he was pretty needy to begin with. But truthfully, you didn't mind his desire for attention. You enjoyed feeling needed by someone.

A few minutes later, Mr. Silvair emerged with a tray of tools and got to work mending your laceration. You grimaced in pain as he poured a cool liquid over it—some sort of disinfecting agent, you assumed.

Mr. Crawling, noticing your discomfort, grabbed your forearm and held it tightly.

"Are you okay? Want stop?" He asked with concern.

"Me good. They help," you reassured. Though, you knew from experience that the rest of the process wouldn't exactly be pain free. Mr. Silvair had tended to your injuries many times before. Truthfully, you were lucky he was one of the good residents. Between teaching you the monster tongue when you first came to the underworld and healing your body anytime you found yourself hurt, Mr. Silvair was a pretty dependable entity to have on your side.

Mr. Crawling lowered himself back down begrudgingly while Silvair continued his ministrations. After a few stitches, ointment, and some bandages, you were all fixed up and approved to go. After thanking him and waving Mr. Chopped goodbye, you and Crawling made your way back to the room you had unofficially deemed as yours.

The second your head made contact with the stiff mattress, the full weight of your exhaustion hit you in full. It had been a long day, and now that all of the adrenaline from earlier had left your body, you could feel yourself crashing.

You heard rustling next to the bed and glanced down. Mr. Crawling sat watchfully, ready to defend you from any resident that dared disturb your sleep. You smiled and patted his head gratefully, feeling safe under his guard. And with that, you let sleep take over.

. . . .

ao3 for NSFW ending ;)

[lifeisyoung4everyone]

ZAYNE DOMESTIC HEADCANONS

PART 2

cw: suggestive +18 below cut!!!

Zayne who, when he doesn’t want to read research articles to get you asleep- due to how monotonous and tedious they get- instead reads ‘The Little Prince’ to you. Sometimes to tease you he turns the book and points to the picture like he’s reading it to a little kid or something. If you react with a warning paw to his arm he’ll respond with a breathy chuckle.

Zayne who always steals a sip of your drink with your straw when you’re out on a lunch date. Will tell you that a variety of liquids is good for the diet if you call him out.

Zayne who responds to the doodles you make on the calendar hung on his kitchen wall with his own snowman doodles. You can tell there’s a lot of love behind them but certainly also a lazily held pen (which you’ll allow since he does these very early in the morning before work). Other times he’ll just respond with comments like “oh really?” to the nonsense you write and graffiti on that thing.

Zayne who enjoys all kinds of sweet cold treats but always has some classic Magnum ice creams in his freezer drawer because it’s a reliable choice. He can’t nag you and will just give a touché happy sigh about any sort of snacks you store next to his beloved Magnums: it’s your checkmate.

Zayne who has a small potted plant in the desk of his office. He’s never really went too long without watering it, but ever since you’ve put a plant poke with a cute little character to give company to his plant, he’s never been more motivated to water it. It certainly adds a bit of you to his space, and he has the habit of stroking the little plant’s leaves in caress when he thinks of you during work.

Zayne who packs your bag for uni or work if he knows you’ll be too busy to attend to it until the morning or if you’ve dozed off already.

Zayne who readjusts your sleeping positions with the most gentle hands, otherwise he can’t be soothed to continue doing anything else. He gets prickles on his back just to think about you waking up with a hurting back.

Zayne who feels contentment he can’t describe when he slides his closet door open and opens the shallow little accessory drawer, and finds your jewellery in a specialised velvet tray and his prescription glasses on the other end.

Zayne who because of you, has a little egg timer resemblant of a chicken to help out when he cooks. He used to just use alarms on his phone, but ever since your silly little gift, he won’t use anything else. The first thing he did when he found the incongruous little chicken character was ask if you if it had a name.

Zayne who picked up your little habit of storing socks as little balls. When you’re both sat on the bed balling up his and your socks, he’ll grab one like a snowball and boop it to the side of your cheek.

Zayne who when he sees you really sluggish coming out the shower, will get you dressed and have you sit cross-legged on the edge of the bed mattress as he stands and dries your hair with the hairdryer.

Zayne who once put your soiled slippers in the washing machine while you slept before leaving for work in a really early dark winter morning. He kissed your hand and jotted down a little note on the bedside table for you to use his slippers instead, which were faced outwards from where you’d naturally put your feet to get up from bed.

Zayne who has a regime with you of cutting and peeling fruits for each other back and forth. Once outdid you by making his orange to you look like a water lily, knowing and having schemed that you couldn’t do anything more creative. The bastard. All your oranges from henceforth were like that, to rub it in your face with the excuse of vitamin D. Yeah right. You’ll get him.

Zayne who involuntarily (or voluntarily, who knows) flusters you when removing your underwear from the plastic peg rack. Upon meeting your dazzled face, holds the cloth almost touching the side of his cheek.“Should I not take this garment to face value?”