#he was stuck in a rut about something and after this... let's say he gets new perspectives about it

[lelelego]

he says, it's mine to give, but it's yours to choose you're gonna sink or swim, you're gonna learn the truth

no matter what you do you're gonna learn the truth

[monstersholygrail]

A Surprise Visit (1k Celebration Fic)

Tentacle Monster x fem!reader — multiple orgasms, breeding, primal play, aphrodisiac injection, rut, dub con, bondage, double penetration, aftercare

a/n: Also just wanna thank you guys for 3k as well! Sorry it took me so long to get to this

The clock ticks by, the noise echoing throughout the empty room. You tap your pen against your desk in time with it as your thoughts drift past your home and go to your Tentacle Monster bf. The house far too quiet without him around.

You should’ve been used to this by now, you really should’ve! Your Tentacle Monster bf always traveled back home around this time of the month. Always very insistent to keep up visits with his family.

And you totally understood. You’ve met his parents and family members a handful of times. Never on their homeland but here in your home with your bf. Tentacle Monster bf was always very firm about the dangers of the swamp in which his family lives in its depths.

So you let it go, believing he of course knows best. Every month you wave your bf off as he leaves home and disappears for about a week or so. Always coming back right when he says he will. But something was… strange this time around.

It seemed to hit your bf about a week earlier than usual. His moods and behaviors changing as they always did around the time he left to go see his family. Growls so low you almost couldn’t hear them leaving him whenever he sees someone else looking at you. Making sure to rub himself against you until you were fully drenched in his scent. Always keeping at least three tentacles on you at all times, his clingy behavior somehow worsening these last few days.

In fact, he couldn’t keep himself off of you. Always squirming into your clothes as soon as you walk in the door, slipping them off with ease. Before you knew it he was fucking you on every available surface until you two got into the bedroom where he brought you to orgasm after orgasm until you passed out wrapped up in his slick tentacles.

After about five whole days of this, your Tentacles Monster bf brought up the idea of him leaving for his trip early, sitting you down in the breakfast nook, his tentacles wrapped around your hands. Though he respectfully discussed it with you, you still felt a bit ambushed— like it came out of nowhere. You tried to be as understanding as always but seriously, what the hell was going on with him? You were seriously worried, he’s never gotten so wound up to this extent.

His abrupt departure only made you worry more, not wanting to assume the worst but it’s as though your thoughts have a mind of their own as they travel down those dark pathways anyway. All with absolutely no way of getting answers due to your bf being miles away while you’re stuck here sitting at home.

Well fuck that.

No longer fine to just wait around, you want to take action. You want to be with your bf and help him through whatever’s going on with him. As well as get some much needed answers. Your determination fuels you, causing you to charge in head first.

Right into the Eternal Swamp, a home for a large portion of the Tentacle Monster population. Mostly due to its natural resources…and the fact that it makes any human who dare enter to go insane. All to feed the land’s inhabitants.

You look out the window of your car as you arrive, the edge of the swamp barely even visible over the fog. Bringing with it a cold sense of anticipation that you chalk up to nerves. What the hell are you thinking going in there? This is crazy, you’ve definitely gone crazy. But your heart beats wildly in your chest, urging you to go to your bf.

Not letting another moment of hesitation take you, you swiftly exit your vehicle. Walking with steady and firm steps into the swamp. That strength and courage slowly leaves you the deeper you go into the swamp. The fog growing so heavy you can no longer see the sun or even what’s standing right in front of you.

You make your way through the swamp as best you can, peering down at the ground to make sure you don’t deep dive into its waters. You can’t help but start second guessing your choice again. The anticipation building the longer you’re in here. Why? You’re not sure but it sends a chill running down your spine.

Tentacle Monster watches you through the fog, his vision blurry with the haze of lust clouding his mind. His rut sending him spiraling into insanity, surely. It was worse this month, that was a given. For one it hit him sooner than usual and now here he was, conjuring your figure before him just so he can find a little bit of relief.

But your scent was so potent, your form so vivid, and your voice as you call out his name so clear. It takes a moment for it to click in Tentacle Monster bf’s mind that you’re actually here. And when it does, his brain goes haywire. Nostrils flaring, body crouching into position. A predator posed to strike and take down its prey.

You remain as clueless as ever. Hopelessly trying to look through the fog and find your way to your bf. Praying he finds you before you’re eaten alive. A snap of a branch echos throughout the swamp and you gasp, head jerking toward the sound. Your body’s frozen as if staying still might hide you from any lingering beasts. At a subtle swish within the fog your mind fires off alarms, body forcing you into flight or fight. And boy do you fly.

Bolting forward you suddenly couldn’t care less what you might run into. And it’s a good thing as a second later a ferocious growl rings across the swamp, making your stomach drop. Your bf chases after you, all that’s processing is that his mate is running from him. Tempting him with your sweet pussy in order to drive him mad.

Pumping your legs as fast as they can go you stumble through the swamp. Cursing under your breath in a panic as you smack into branch after branch. It’s slowing you down and whatever’s after you must know this place a lot better. Just as the thought occurs, a tentacle snaps out, curling tightly around your waist. It’s caught you.

A scream rises from your throat as you thrash around, desperate to escape. Tentacle Monster bf growls in appreciation as your body grinds against his long tentacles. First with your little game and now this, your bf is more than ready to take you and ask questions later. He needs inside of you. More of his tentacles eagerly wrap around your enchanting body, sharply pinning you down onto the swamp floor and spreading you open.

For a moment a spark of familiarity shoots through you but you’re a little too busy freaking the fuck out to pay it any mind. Your thoughts are quickly diverted anyway as you feel tentacles sliding your panties to the side, exposing your pretty pussy to open air. Tears spring to your eyes, this can’t be happening.

Tentacle Monster bf plunges inside you with one swift thrust, his tentacle’s slime acting as a natural lubricant as well as an aphrodisiac. Getting you all nice and ready for the fucking of a lifetime… Now that he’s inside you, your bf’s mind clears a little. Allowing his curiosity and fear for your safety to mix amongst the lust. His big body leans over you, noting your shaking form with unease. “What are you doing here, my mate?”

You gasp, your body instantly relaxing as your eyes shoot open to be met with the lovely vision of your bf. It was him. It was him the whole time and it’s him now inside of you. Tears of relief quickly replace tears of fear and your bf is quick to comfort you, his tentacles caressing you in a way that’s now soothing instead of suffocating.

“W-was worried about y-you. Acting weird. Needed to understand,” you stammer out, your body slowly ceasing in its shaking. Tentacle Monster bf sighs, knowing he can no longer hide this from you.

“Every month my kind go through an intense need to breed their mates. We cannot stop pumping our seed inside their fertile wombs until it takes or the week ends. During that time I come here to relieve myself.”

Even now your bf is slowly rocking his tentacle inside your pussy but you don’t think he notices he’s doing it. Meanwhile you can’t help but moan, the aphrodisiac causing your body to tingle and your mind to grow hazy.

“I-I can help you,” you offer and you can see your bf’s eyes flashing with barely controlled restraint.

“But I would not want to break your fragile human body, my heart,” he grits out. His tentacle picking up pace anyway and you arch into it, body squirming against his tentacles again.

“Can handle it. Promise,” you whisper as the aphrodisiac swells across your body, making your pussy slick with need and your veins run hot with lust.

That’s all the restraint your Tentacle Monster bf has. The moment the words leave your lips he’s withdrawing his tentacle only to thrust two more in your pussy. You cry out as he takes you like a feral beast, fucking his tentacles into your perfectly restrained body.

Your bf growls, the heat of his rut roaring to life and pumping through him with urgency. His tentacles move you at a brutal pace. Forcing you to meet his every thrust without being able to escape anything he’s giving you. Using you like his perfect little fuck toy as he takes his pleasure from your body and returns it to you tenfold. And you love it, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as your body jerks in time to his rhythm.

With his tentacles plowing inside you, it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build. And god is it good, the way he’s fucking you taking you to heights you’ve never known. Your cries of pleasure charge the air around you and your bf lets out a rumble as he ruts into you even harden until you’re thrown off the edge.

But he doesn’t stop there. Tentacle Monster bf keeps fucking into you, never letting the pressure ebb away as your essence coats his tentacles. Needing more. “Come again for me, love. Come on, I know you can do it. Just one more,” your bf snarls like a monster possessed.

His words repeat in an endless cycle as he snaps his tentacles inside your cunt over and over again. Working you through so many orgasms you lose count. You release all your senses to him and happily. Getting completely lost in the feeling of him as his tentacles fill your every hole till you’re squeezing down on him in every possible way.

The sky is dark by the time your bf gives you his final thrust, burying himself to the hilt and spraying your fertile womb with his seed. Chilling noises rip from your boyfriend’s throat that you’ve never heard before yet you can’t help but feel turned on by it as your body twitches with overstimulation.

Tentacle monster bf slumps on top of you, his tentacles covering every inch of your body in a way that has you smoothly falling down from relentless pleasure. Both of you finding peace in a place you once thought could drive you mad. Maybe it has. But as your bf whispers words of affection and praise in your ear saying how well you handled his rut and how he can’t wait for his eggs to grow inside of you… you don’t really care if you have gone mad.

[lovelivision]

CLOTHED?!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 【𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞】 fushiguro toji/reader, geto suguru/reader, gojo satoru/reader, kamo choso/reader

𝐖𝐂: 4.8k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: they all have their own reasons for not undressing completely, just how crazy will they drive you in their pursuit to have you cumming in your clothes?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, swearing, dirty talk, teasing, dry humping, thigh riding, cunnilingus, afab!reader, no pronouns or y/n used, pet names used: doll, baby, sweetheart, i think that's all !! <3

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 ★

This all started because he believed something and you didn’t, now you’re sat on him, fully clothed, struggling to comprehend just how your few words worked him up so much to the point that it feels like he’s torturing you over them. A punishment, that you feel, you do not deserve.

All you had said was that you don’t think it’s possible for you to finish fully clothed and he took that as a personal challenge and a slight against his ability to please you, which, you never meant it as.

What you meant doesn’t change the facts of your situation though, he’s got you teary eyed and shaking on his lap. Clothed erection rutting up against your core, hands digging into your hips to drag you back and forth over him. So determined in how he’s devotedly humping up into you.

So badly you want for him to forget about the thing you said, you just want him to fuck you but he’s not going to, and you can tell that just by the look on his face alone. “Toji, please just – hah – forget what I said,” your voice shakes slightly.

Almost baring his teeth when he snaps back, “Trying to prove you wrong, doll.”

“But it would feel so much better if you – hnn – would just–”

He grunts at you, hips jerking up, “I’ll make you feel so much better once you cum in your pants.”

“I don’t think I–”

Predicting what you were going to say, “–You can, I’ll make sure of it,” his hands gripping you so firm you think he might leave bruises behind.

Toji’s so hard, straining against his pants, desperate to fuck you, to feel some kind of release but you said something that he disagrees with, and now he’s going to show you that you can cum for him no matter how clothed you are.

Panties so slick and sticky, stuck to your cunt, leaking into your pants, you’re going insane. Right on the edge of cumming but not feeling like it’s enough, wanting for him to just stuff you full at this point. Foggy brain not understanding why he’s so bent out of shape over this, it would feel so much better if he would just fuck you.

The friction against your core not enough, his cock splits your folds, grinding you down into him. The pleasure better, hands grabbing at his shoulders, fisting his shirt, gasping at how the head of his clothed cock hits your clit.

“Toji,” you whine at him.

“Right there, huh?” He huffs, doubling his efforts.

Dripping into your panties and shorts embarrassingly, soaking them, so incredibly damp. Something that he doesn’t miss, not if his smirk and visibly inflating ego are anything to go by.

Your eyes are large as you plead with him, “Please, just fuck me.”

His smile is dark, evil, taunting, “I will…after you’ve cum for me.”

Your hips stutter on him, grinding down harder, your own determination to cum like this growing, if it means finally getting fucked full then you will finish for him, fully clothed.

“Suddenly feeling motivated, doll?” His chuckle feels demeaning.

“Shuddup,” you mean for it to have more bite when you say it, but you sound pathetic and needy.

He bites his lower lip at the way you circle your hips, “Pretty cute how desperate you’ve gotten.”

“Be nicer,” trying to chastise him while humping his clothed cock isn’t all that effective.

Laughing heartily at your poor excuse of admonishment, “You should be nicer to me, you know I could always be meaner.��� As if to illustrate his point, he lets go of your hips, no longer assisting you.

A sad noise leaves you at the loss of his hands, struggling to get the same kind of pleasure from this without his help. Your fingers digging into his shirt, brows scrunching as you try to make up for the loss of him. Wet cunt grinding down, not quite getting the same kind of pleasure, back to desperately wanting for him to fuck you open.

“I’m sorry,” you rush out, hoping he’ll show mercy.

“What was that, doll?” He asks, feigning like he couldn’t hear you perfectly well.

Shooting him a teary-eyed glare, you repeat, “I’m sorry, just please– help.”

His smile is self-satisfied at your pleading, cooing at you, “You sure you want the help of this mean man?”

“Mhm,” nodding your head vehemently at him, wanting nothing more than that.

Huffing a breath of amusement at your eagerness, “Should’ve said I wasn’t mean there.”

“Toji!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he dismisses, pulling you down with a strong hand on the back of your neck. Lips colliding with his, sloppy and messy, all teeth and tongues.

Once he has his lips on yours, he moves his hand back to your hips, stroking them lower to your thighs just to pull them apart further on top of him. His clothed cock splitting your folds more like this, your pussy twitching and drooling into your panties.

He groans against your mouth, “I bet you’re so fuckin wet,” he pants against you, growing just as frustrated as you, if not more, “Gotta cum soon, doll. Can’t handle much more of this.”

He could always just stop this and fuck you but he’s stubborn and you know better than to try and convince him of this, especially now, when you’re getting so close to finishing.

“Promise to fuck me after?” Feeling worried he might go back on his word and torture you some more.

“Hah– I’m not depriving myself of your creamy little cunt, doll. Stuffing you full right after you’ve cum is one of my favourite pastimes,” he licks at your lower lip before nipping it.

Your arms wrap around him completely, face nuzzling into his neck, focusing on how you’re moving against him. Starting to stutter against your will, his large hands helping you along, supplying you with the friction he had robbed you of only a few moments ago.

His huffed breaths tickling your ear, having turned his head towards you, to continue talking to you, keep spouting filth at you. Too aware of how much his voice gets you off, “C’mon, doll, know you’re so close, cum in your panties for me, hmm?”

Only able to whimper against him in response, no words forming as you continue to rut into him. Pussy hole clenching pathetically around nothing, begging to be filled, getting closer to your end. It’s almost embarrassing that he’s able to have you falling apart despite the fact you’re both fully clothed.

“Be good and cum for me, wanna fuck you into next week,” he groans out when you press down into him with more pressure, his words getting to you more than you’d ever admit.

“Toji –hnn– I’m soo–”

His voice is lilted, excited, “Yeahh that’s it, doing so good for me– fuck.”

You shake on top of him, clit hitting his cock just right, whimpered whines leaving you as you huff against the skin of his neck. Tears welling in your eyes, nails digging into him slightly. The groan he lets out swiftly followed by your name has you cumming for him, in your clothes, fully dressed.

He talks you through it, hands stroking at your back, amused by how you twitch from your aftershocks. After a beat of silence, and your breathing evens out, he speaks lowly into your ear, “Told ya so.”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 ★

Your panties are soaked through, almost completely wet as you slide back and forth on Geto’s jean clad thigh. He’s not even touching you, refusing to help, only sitting back and enjoying the view of you humping down into him like a bitch in heat.

Enjoying the frustrated pout settling on your features, playing dumb when he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Not enough,” you huff back.

“Sure it is,” he hums, hand moving only to tickle up the length of your inner thigh, “Look at the mess you’re leaving behind, ruining my pants.”

Your skin flares at his comment, all too aware of the dark and damp spot you’re leaking into his jeans. Not appreciating his comment, only serving to embarrass you, feeling self-conscious with how you’re rubbing your pussy into his thigh.

He must notice, smile kind when he says, “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s cute how worked up you are just for my thigh, think you could cum like this?”

Shaking your head at him, “No –hng–” moaning when he bounces his leg up, jostling you on his thigh suddenly.

“I think you can,” his lips curling into a deceivingly innocent grin, “Go on, keep going,” nodding downwards at his leg, encouraging you to continue your movements.

Sticky folds splitting obscenely to rut down into him, panties moulding to your pussy lips, leaving nothing to the imagination. Slick beading through the material of your underwear, repeated back and forth of your hips spreading it all over him.

A completely lewd display, one that Geto is appreciating deeply, his cock painfully erect at how your eyes are all bleary and unfocused. Simultaneously embarrassed about how you’re humping his leg and so desperate to cum that you’re not stopping your movements.

Small whines and whimpers leaving you, despite the fact that you’re biting your lower lip in an attempt to stop them. Geto’s fingers twitch with the need to touch you, feeling an itch to help you, get you off faster but stopping himself, enjoying the struggle you’re facing a bit too much.

“Sugu, I just want you,” sounding pathetic even to yourself, begging him for help? For his cock? Either? Both?

Tutting at you with faux sympathy, “I’m right here, baby,” smirking at how your brows upturn and you huff at him.

“I want – hah – want you to touch me, please,” eyes big and pitifully wet.

“Always so pretty when you beg,” his hand reaches for your face and wipes away the tears you hadn’t realised you’d shed.

Spreading your legs slightly, continuing to grind down onto his thigh, wishing he would at least take off his pants so you can feel every ridge and dip of his muscles. Slippery in how you rock back and forth, clit catching with your grinding, gasped moans leaving you with it.

He observes, “Getting desperate?”

“Please just touch me, I don’t care where, just touch me please, Sugu,” practically sobbing at him, feeling so completely deprived of him by now.

His outside demeanour stays unchanged, forever amused by how desperate you are for him to touch you but his cock twitches in his pants and is leaking profusely. So fucking hard and ready to fuck you, loving how you plead and beg for him.

Wanting nothing more than to fuck inside you, feel the way your tight cunt sucks him in, drooling all over him but he’s gonna have you finishing like this first. Thinking to himself that you’ll probably make a great face when you cum in your panties for him.

He obliges you slightly though, hands moving to your hips, forcing you down on his thigh harder. Giving you a more consistent pace to get off to, relief flooding you at how much better it feels to have him set the rhythm, you could almost cry at how good it feels.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” it’s repeated over and over, so grateful for his help.

“So polite when you get what you want,” he muses, eyes fixated on the way you’re seemingly growing slicker. God, by the time he’s inside you, you’re going to be beyond dripping, the realisation thrilling him.

Panties borderline see through with how you’re coating them, his large hands gripping your thighs harshly, spreading them open even more. He wants to see how you rub your pretty little cunt down into him, needs to see.

Aching in his pants for you, close to giving up and bullying his thick cock inside you, voice strained when he asks, “Getting close?”

“Mhm,” you mumble back, hole fluttering on nothing at the sound of his wrecked voice.

His leg starts bouncing again, adding more stimulation for you to get off to. Almost screaming at the abrupt change, hands digging into his shoulders, mouth gaping open as moans and whines push their way out of you.

Tears streaming down your face again as you twitch down into him, “Sugu– it feels – ah –” Not able to properly verbalise just how good he’s making you feel.

“If it feels so good,” his hands forcing you down and circling your hips, feeling the way he almost starts salivating at the wet sounds your slutty pussy makes for him, “Cum for me,” almost spitting out the rest of his sentence.

His eyes glazing over, mirroring your own, so fucking horny he’s going to go insane. Poor cock feeling neglected, getting consumed in his own thoughts, thoughts about your cunt and how divinely you take him.

“I– I’m gonna–” panting with the effort it takes to talk when your brain is so foggy.

Extremities thrumming with the build up of your orgasm, head feeling heavy as you struggle to hold it up straight. Letting it loll to the front, chin on your chest as you cum all over Geto’s leg. Gushing inside your panties and soaking his thigh, cum seeping into the material, matching the small wet spot on his pants by the tip of his dick.

“Ffffuck– that’s it, so fucking perfect for me,” praise falling from his lips easily as he watches your body twitch and jerk on top of him.

Once you’ve come down some, he has you standing between his spread legs, your hands resting on his shoulders still to keep yourself on your feet. His hands tug your panties down, watching the way your cum connects to your cunt with sticky strings, low growl stuck in his throat at how creamy your pussy is.

“That’s what I like to see,” he hums, smile evil as he continues to pull them down and off you.

“Sugu.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ll fuck me now, right?” You ask, hoping desperately that he will, not realising that it might just kill him if he doesn’t stuff you full.

“Ah, on one condition,” smile growing as he says, “Open your mouth.” His hand holding your panties shoving them into your mouth, “Since you wanna get stuffed full so bad,” he hums.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 ★

What’s gotten Gojo so worked up, you couldn’t say, all you know is that it’s hard to think. Feeling breathless at the way he’s lapping at your clothed cunt, hands pulling at the material on your hips to have them melding to you.

Your legs thrown haphazardly over his shoulders, his faze nuzzling into your pussy, licking and sucking at the material of your panties. His saliva soaking them just as much as your slick is, lolling his tongue out and letting it rest against your cunt. His dazed eyes and small sounds of pleasure having you twitch down onto him, pussy gliding along his tongue.

Using him to get yourself off, he’s letting you use him to get yourself off, head nodding slightly with your movements, tongue sliding through your folds. His eyes sparkling as he watches you grow desperate for him, thumbs parting your pussy lips. Tongue fucking deeper, almost dipping into your hole, stopped by the resistance of your panties.

Your voice calls out for him, “‘Toru, please just take them off–”

“No.” His mouth parting from you only to spit out that singular answer, not interested in taking off your underwear in the slightest. Apparently too pleased with himself and this situation.

Huffing out at him, frustrated by his answer, “Please, need more.”

“I need you to let me lick at your pussy like this, I like the way you’re coating them,” he hums, licking at the length of your pussy, hands now holding you still by your thighs, taking back the small amount of control he allowed you, “Want you to cream them.”

“Why?” Eyes wet when you ask him why he’s suddenly so desperate to have you cumming in your panties for him.

“Wanna see what will happen,” he shrugs easily.

Feeling yourself bristle at his answer, basically torturing you just because he wants to see what will happen.

“That – and I’m enjoying this,” he smiles, tongue hanging from his mouth, letting his saliva drip down onto your covered pussy, you’ve got him salivating for you and he’s not even put his tongue on you properly, “Aren’t you?”

His eyes on you are intent and bordering on desperate, so hazy, consumed by lust as he stares at you, letting his tongue continue to drool down onto your panties. Panties that are completely soaked by now, you can’t even tell who more from at this point, only really aware of how wet they are, to the point they feel like a second skin.

He chuckles when you don’t answer, too dazed in how you watch him, his tongue licking his lower lip, mouth down turning into a mocking pout, “You not enjoying yourself, sweetheart?”

“No,” your frown must feel meaner than it really is because Gojo’s eyes only sparkle with delight.

Smirking before lowering his head, “I guess I’ll just have to fix that then.”

Mouth back on you in full force, making out with your clothed cunt with so much vigour he’s making wet sloppy sounds, the noises make you grow hot, feeling embarrassed at just how messy it all sounds. It’s even messier than it sounds, your pussy leaking into his mouth and down your inner thighs.

Shamelessly, he presses his face right into your cunt, inhaling deeply, the action has your skin flaring. Hands instinctually moving to his head, attempting to push him away but he’s immovable, steadfast in how he’s sniffing the panties you’re still wearing.

“Gojo!”

“Don’t be embarrassed, love everything about your pussy,” he’s nuzzling into your cunt more, opening his mouth to press his tongue against your hole, letting your slick bead through the fabric onto it.

Groaning when he swallows, “Smell so good, taste so good,” his eyes lazily look up to you, “Feel so good, so soft, sweetheart… you know that?”

Teary eyed when you shake your head no at him, feeling so embarrassingly overwhelmed. It’s like he’s drunk but nothing has happened for him to lose it to this point, “Are you okay?” Your hand runs softly through his hair.

“I’m perfect,” he assures, smile intoxicated as he goes back to mumbling about your cunt, “So soft, so wet, you gonna let me suck at your pussy over your panties?”

“Are you sure you’re–”

“–If you’re so worried about me, jus let me have my way with you,” his words slurring slightly.

He realises that he must seem different from usual but really, he’s just having trouble holding back right now. You were wearing such a cute pair of panties, wandering around his apartment in them and his shirt. Who can blame him for how he’s acting? When you looked like that? He’s just a little drunk on your pussy and he doesn’t feel the slightest bit embarrassed about it, not when you’re this wet for him.

Your hand tugs at his hair, pulling his gaze back to yours, it had dipped to stare greedily at your cunt, “Then take off–”

He singsongs at you, “Nope.” Blowing cool air against your core to tease you, it causes you to involuntarily twitch for him, “So needy, lemme play with you like this a little more, hmm?”

“Wouldn’t it be better if–”

“Nooo,” he drags it out, as if it were obvious, “After, I promise after you cum in your panties, I will tongue fuck you so good you’ll see stars but for now, be good and let me do this for you.” He presses wet kisses into your thighs, voice pleading as he repeats over and over, “Please, please, please please please.”

“Just, make me cum, please,” you’re starting to feel neglected.

“Of course I will, what do you take me for?” His brows scrunch at you, considering arguing with you about when he’s not had you finishing for him but too keen to put his mouth back on you to talk anymore.

The only time he’s content to be silent is when his tongue is busy lapping at you like a starved man and even then, he’s far from silent, tongue making obscene noises as he licks at you, moans and whines leaving him against his will. Enjoying himself too much to register or even really care that he sounds so pathetically wrecked just from this much.

Hips grinding down into the bed, too needy to hold himself back, cock so hard and ignored. Leaking profusely into his pants, needing the small relief badly, happy he’s too consumed in your cunt to think about his dick too much, otherwise he’d be stuffing you full before he gets what he wants.

Grip lessening on you, hanging his tongue to let you grind into it again, loving the way you get so eager to cum, chasing your own high and using him to get there. Smiling lazily at how your hips rise and fall, rubbing your pussy down onto him, head tipped back, struggling to keep your whines at bay.

Excitement running through his body down to his stiff cock when you twitch and moan for him in a way that tells him you’re getting so close to cumming. His hands hold your thighs tightly as he assists your movements, encouraging you to be rougher, to use him more.

“‘Toru – hah – I’m gonna – hnn –”

“Mhm,” he hums his acknowledgement, all too ready for you to cum.

Eyes shutting tight against the force of your orgasm, toes curling, thighs attempting to close around his head, but Gojo holds you so embarrassingly open. When your movements twitch and stutter, losing their pace, he pins you down into the bed and keeps licking at you. Depraved in how he’s lapping at you, losing his fucking mind at how you’ve creamed your panties for him.

Tingling felt throughout all your limbs, feeling overstimulated as he doesn’t stop his movements, jerking away from him and pushing at his head, whining, “It’s too much, ‘Toru.”

“Sorry, ‘m sorry,” his hand rips your panties from you, tongue fucking into your pussy hole suddenly, drinking down your cum, desperate for more. It doesn’t seem like he’ll be done anytime soon.

𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 ★

Choso has you on your back for him, legs spread wide, his clothed dick grinding down into your panty clad core. What had started as an innocent kiss, turned into a heated make out session and then into shedding of pants while he humped into your cunt.

So desperate in his movements, cock rubbing through your folds, spreading your pussy lips obscenely. Slick pooling into your panties, he’s much the same, his cock head weeping into his underwear, dark spot at the tip.

His mouth is still firmly planted against yours, kissing you so dizzyingly, sucking your tongue into his mouth. Only ever parting from you long enough to huff out and catch his breath, pressing out compliments through clenched teeth.

“Feels so good, so pretty,” his words murmured, mouth brushing against yours, lips back on yours before you can even think to reply.

He’s holding back for you, you had wanted to take the relationship slower than your previous ones, which included waiting for sex but as the tip of his cock presses at your clothed hole, your resolve cracks and you want to tell him it’s okay.

You don’t get a chance to say anything though, his mouth needily kissing you into submission, almost tearing up at how it feels to have his lips on yours. Hands gripping at his shirt, his own on your thigh, on your hips, your stomach, boobs, anywhere he can reach, he’s touching and groping.

So overwhelming in how he’s touching you, your cunt so slick and ready to take him, legs tightening around his waist and pulling him down into you more. Grinding up into him, so fucking horny and ready to beg for more, Choso whines into your mouth at how you rut up into him.

Breaking the kiss to moan into the delicate skin of your neck, huffing as his hips fuck frantically down into you, meeting your need tenfold. Borderline whimpering at how damp you feel through all the layers.

He’s dizzied, from the thought of how your tight, wet heat will envelop his cock, sucking him in greedily. Losing his sanity as he humps at you, feeling juvenile but wanting nothing more than to respect your wishes and also get you off, he can do both, he can make you cum for him like this without fucking you full.

“Choso – hnn –”

Ah, your wrecked voice has him twitching pathetically against you, hips coming down more forcefully into yours. His breaths panting against your skin, struggling to focus on anything but how good this feels, how much better it could feel.

“– Mmph – Choso,” you call for him again, needing his attention.

His movements don’t stop, not even for a moment, too fucking lost in the pleasure to even think of stopping, “Hmm, you okay?” His hand gently holds your face, his own moving back to look you in the eyes, to check on you.

Nodding your head at him, “I’m fine, want more.”

“No,” he shakes his head at you.

“But–”

“Only saying that now – hah –” his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head at the thought of actually fucking you, “Only saying that because you’re horny – hnn –”

“Nooo – mmph – ‘m saying it because I mean it.”

“Ask me again after you’ve cum,” he noses at the side of your face.

His voice and steadfastness regarding this topic has your pussy clenching pathetically around nothing, eager to be stuffed full of him. Hoping to change his mind, “Cho, please,” eyes big and wet when you plead with him.

“No,” he huffs out, finding it harder and harder to resist you.

“Wanna be stuffed full, Cho – hnn – wanna feel you inside me, so bad,” babbling to him in your want.

Moaning at your words, “I want that too.”

“Then–”

“Nope,” his mouth back on yours to shut you up for a moment, tongue sliding into the kiss. He can’t have you keep begging him like that, he’ll give you what you want but you made the decision to wait for sex before you were so fucking desperate for him to fuck you, so you’ll have to wait.

You’re clawing at him frantically, hips messy in their movements, only seeking pleasure, offering no rhyme or reason to how you achieve it. Drooling into your panties for him, to have him shoving you down his fat cock, taking it all, the idea of it all has you drunk. You’d be embarrassed by how needy you are for his dick if you weren’t so aroused, so preoccupied with how good he’s making you feel.

When he parts the kiss, your mouths are connected by a string of saliva, kiss so messy and fuelled purely by lust. His eyes so dazed as they look down at you, almost unseeing, brows scrunched as his cock jerks against your cunt.

You go to speak, to beg him again, but his hand reaches up to cover your mouth, clamping down, “Can’t keep begging me, I’ll give in, I’ll give you anything you want – fuck – feels so fucking good and I’m not even – hah – not even inside you, can’t even feel how soft you are, how tight, wet – fuck.”

He bites his lip to stop his mouth, dick releasing thick globs of precum at the way you’re almost crying for him, eyes pathetic as you look up at him from underneath his large hand.

“Look so pretty right now,” he compliments, eyes adoring as he does.

You moan back at him, pleading with him through your eyes, his hips stutter and he groans out. His hand leaves you, only so he can use both of them to tug your panties up, spreading your folds open in a lewd display, his cock rubbing against you insistently. Shocked whimpers leaving you at the sudden change in friction, feeling it so much more.

“Cho!”

“I know – fuck – I know,” his head looks down to how your pussy lips bulge around your panties, losing his fucking mind at the sight of it. If he just gave into your begging, your lips could be bulging around his dick.

Shiver running down his spine, eyes flicking back to yours, “You need to cum.”

“What–”

“Right now.”

It feels like he doubles his efforts, grinding down into you with a new kind of need. Your eyes glazing over, fucked out over his clothed cock, body shaking as your high approaches so much faster. The work up having gotten to you, so fucking close to cumming from this.

His mouth back on you, kissing you breathless, hips moving against you almost like he’s fucking you. Hands everywhere, groping, pulling, his whimpers filling your ears, you wonder how he’d sound while actually fucking you.

Cumming suddenly for him, clawing at his back, legs kicking where they’re wrapped around him, cunt pulsing around nothing. Tears slipping from your waterline, mind hazy and foggy, orgasm wracking through you so deliciously.

Choso’s hips stutter against you, nipping at your lower lip before pulling away, whines leaving him as he continues to overstimulate the both of you, refusing to stop until you whimper and push at him.

Looking down to where his pelvis rests against yours, you can see the dark patch at the front of his boxers. His cum leaking into his underwear, the sight has your tummy doing flips and Choso’s skin tinting a deeper pink.

“Can you fuck me now?” You ask simply, still desperate for him.

𝐀/𝐍: i got a bit carried away with this... i think if i hadn't stopped myself gojo's would have been obscenely long 😳 thank you for reading !! ‧₊˚✩彡

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

[cosmonauter]

best friend james without boundaries again!!

mdni, this has smut in it, i hope you guys enjoy it :))

sleepovers with james are the best thing on this planet, especially if you haven't seen eachother the whole day. meeting up with him after a stressful day, filled with studying and reading about different potion ingredients, is always such a relaxing feeling.

the way he whines about missing you, and thinking of hugging and touching you the whole day.

the way he cradles you to his broad and strong chest, thick arms wrapping around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

the way he begs you to sleep in his bed tonight, because he had "such a bad day without you, i need you tonight, love, i can't sleep without you!".

so of course, as his best friend, it is your duty to make him feel better, and try your best at making him forget about the bad day he was having.

-

you're lying in his bed, wearing only his shirt and boxers, humming a tune that got stuck in your head, while sirius and peter are palying chess on the opposite side of the room.

"don't you think it's a little weird, sleeping in prongs' clothes and letting him kiss and touch you like he's your boyfriend? not that i'm judging, but i've just been wondering", sirius interrupts your little tune.

you sigh, tired of answering this question every day, "no sirius, why would it be weird? jamie and i just understand eachother and we don't get weird about cuddling and hugging eachother. that's just our love language!"

"alright, if you say so..", sirius shakes his head, as if he's disappointed. maybe he made a wrong move against peter?

suddenly the door to the restroom opens, and out steps james in his low-hanging pants, that make his v-line visible. he's still wet from his shower, his abs and chest glittering from the light reflecting of the little water drops.

he swiftly moves towards his bed, tugging the blanket up and getting under it, immediately pulling you to himself.

"jamie, you're still drenched!", you squeek out.

he smiles at you and apologises, "sorry love, didn't mean to get you wet."

sirius coughs and remus' eyes widen behind his book. " oh my god, you guys are such perverts!", you exclaim, "jamie, close the curtains, i don't want to see them anymore!"

james chuckles as he's closing the bed, laughing at the gobsmacked looks on his mates faces, "good night, boys."

-

you wake up to james moving against your back, " jamie?"

he mumbles your name, while rubbing up against you. suddenly you notice, that a very particular part of him was indeed in dire need of attention. you call out his name again, and start turning around to shake him awake.

as you finally manage to wake him up, his eyes widen and you can immediately see the shame and apologies swimming in his eyes, "jamie, don't even worry about it! we're best friends, if you need something, i'm happy to help you!"

"are you sure? i don't want you to feel uncomfortable or anything", he frowns at you.

"i've never been surer, really, don't worry about it!"

-

james never really expected to be in this situation. of course he thought about it and hoped sometimes, but he never dreamed that one day, he would get to do this.

you're lying on you back, his shirt and boxers nowhere in sight, letting him rub your chest and nipples with one hand, while holding himself up slightly with the other.

"oh my god, this feels so good", he moans out, rutting his swollen cock against your bare body.

goosebumps cover your whole body, and james wants to kiss every inch of you, mark you as his, and make you forget about any other male in your life besides him.

"you make me crazy. i'm going crazy because of you, fuck", he mutters into your neck, continuing to play with your nipples, squeezing and pulling them.

you moan out his name, and james thinks that nothing on this world will ever sound that good again. "you're so good, love. you're the best friend anyone could ever ask for, oh love, i- fuuck, i am so fucking lucky."

one of your hands runs down your body, nearing his dick. you wrap it around him, and james almost loses his control. the way your hand looks so small around his tip makes him nearly cum.

"come on, jamie.. you're doing so good, you're such a good boy, thank you so much."

james blushes and hides his face in your neck. whining, he pulls some of your skin in his mouth and starts sucking.

"jamie, stop! everyone will see, they're going to know what you did to me!"

"oh fuck, i want them to know. i want everyone to know you're mine. shit, tell me you're mine", james whimpers and starts rutting against you even faster.

you moan out and he thinks, that after this night he will not be able to live his life normally anymore. "i'm yours jamie, of course i am."

james can't hold back anymore, he really tries, but he just can't. " i'm cumming, oh fuck, i'm cumming." rope after rope of his cum cover your lower body, some of it landing on your pussy.

he looks at you with wide eyes and and apologises, promising you that he's "going to eat you out so good, just wait a moment. thank you, love, thank you so much", kissing your face and lips like he can't get enough of it. and he really can't, he's obsessed with you beneath him.

his lips start wandering from your collarbone downwards, and he feels you bucking up into him.

smirking against your skin, he starts leaving little bites here and licking over your body there.

finally arriving at your cunt, he places a little kiss right at the center of it and inhales. it smells so incredibly addicting, and james is sure, that nothing could pull him away from you at this moment.

he feels blessed, he feels so good in a way he has never felt like before. he thinks this is what going mad feels like.

"sweetheart, why have you been hiding this from me? i could have had this so long ago", he moans against your pussy starting to lick into you.

this is definitely what going crazy feels like. james feels crazy, he's going crazy.

he can't describe how he's feeling right now, every little emotion inside of him mixing together, making him incapable of forming together a sentence.

"oh my god, you, you taste so good, oh fuck", james is eating you out, like it's his last meal, moaning against you and grinding into the bed.

slowly, he drags a hand up and starts teasing your little hole with one of his fingers. "baby, i'm gonna stick my finger inside, okay? i really wanna stick it inside, please baby? let me put my finger inside you?"

he's whining, he knows that he sounds really pathetic right now, but it's you, and you are his exception for everything. you are the only one allowed to see him in this postion. no one else, ever.

your legs start shaking and you clench your pussy, as he finally puts his fingers to good use. james keeps kissing and sucking on your clit, enjoying the taste of you a to concerning amount.

he knows you're about to cum, he doesn't know how, but he feels it inside of him, like a ticking time bomb.

"come on, my love. grind it out on me, yes, just like that. feels so good, fuck, i could do this all night."

as you moan and cum on his mouth, james realizes that he will never get enough of you, now that he was finally allowed to taste you.

as you finally catch your breath again, james looks up at you with a face of worship.

"you taste so good, i'm genuinely addicted to you now." he huffs against your pussy, starting to give it little kisses here and there.

he licks your oversensitive flesh, as you whine about it being "too soon, jamie, my pussy feels so sensitive, please be careful."

"just one more time, darling, i just need one more taste", as he starts up again, your poor little pussy twitching against his lips.

i hope you liked it!! if you have any tips, please don't hesitate to help me out!!

also this is my first time writing smut, so please tell me how you liked it :))

[0mg-bird]

bombshell of the bau was soo good, I need more of those two pls!!!

Aghhhhhh thanks! Okay, upon popular demand, here’s a part two.

Bombshell Of The BAU~ Part II

Spencer Reid x Fem!Agent Reader

Summary: With all the attention you get, it’s hard to hide something as scandalous as what you and Spencer have going on. Often times, it comes down to stolen moments and too close calls.

But you don’t expect the team to find out the way they do.

Warnings: Tehehehehe. Okay, 18+ content, suggestive material, smut, MDNI, um they’re so cute! Morgan being a c!ck block on like too many occasions, slight voyeurism kinda?? Exhibitionism kinda? Two second mention of Reid’s addiction. Reader gets hurt by UbSub but she’s fine. Idk, enjoy.

“You sure you don’t want a drink?” Emily asks as she walks with you down the hallway.

You pull the clip from your hair so it softly falls down around your face. A sigh leaves your pouty lips that are long gone of lipstick.

“After the day I had? I’d much rather take a very long shower, order room service on Hotch’s dime and watch Sex and The City.”

Emily laughs. “That sounds pretty perfect to me. Hey, did Morgan really make you crawl up in that attic?”

A shiver runs through you. “I don’t want to relive that trauma.” You claim.

She rubs your arm affectionately. “Well, you try your best to recover.”

“I’m a fighter, I’ll be okay.” You say dramatically, flicking your hair out of your face.

Emily drops you off at your door. “Call me if you need anything.” She says.

“Aw, sugar, I can always count on you.” You place a kiss on her cheek, the way you always do as a goodbye to your female agent friends.

You dig the room key from your pocket and press it into the slot. Though, you don’t push the door open, you instead look to the elevator where Emily disappears in, headed down to the lobby where most of the team resides.

When the coast is clear, you briskly turn further down the hall, passing multiple doors until you come to stand at the right one. Sparing another glance over your shoulder, you raise your knuckle to the wood.

The door opens after two knocks, and that arm raised in the air is grabbed and tugged, making you fall swiftly into the room.

You let out a soft giggle, though it’s cut off by an equally smiley kiss.

The door clicks shut behind you as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Spence.” You sigh dreamily against him. “Long time, no see, handsome.”

He pulls back to look down at you, that lopsided smile you love so much, playing on his lips.

“I saw you this morning at the station.” He reminds, letting his hands roam up your sides to hold your face.

He’s learned how to be comfortable in his actions, knowing now that you aren’t going to push him away when he reaches out. For three months, the two of you have been hiding this well kept secret, and maybe it was wrong to keep something like this from the team but…

Both you and Spencer agree that it’s nice, having something to yourselves.

So that’s why the two of you steal away any moments you can, like being on the same hotel floor after solving a case.

You give a pout. “But I’ve been stuck with Morgan all day. He was so cruel to me.”

Spencer matches your rutted lower lip. “Oh, he was cruel, huh? How was he cruel, angel?”

You love it when he calls you that.

Your hand slips into the hair on the back of his head, it’s definitely gotten a little longer.

“Made me follow him all around town, boosted me up into an icky crawl space to search for evidence.” You explain, trying to kick your heels off.

“Oh, you poor thing.” Spencer jokes, his thumb rubbing your cheek.

“It was a miserable, miserable day.” You sigh, dropping a few inches in height once your shoes are off. “But I’m here now and let me tell you, I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Spencer gets that slight blush he always does. “Have you?”

“Mhm.” You nod, pulling him down for another searing kiss.

Instantly, lips are parting and he’s tasting that unique-to-you taste of your tongue. Maybe it’s a placebo effect, but after awhile, he’s addicted to that sweet flavor that lingers on your lips.

You sigh and melt into him, ready to forget about all the work the two of you went through today. Taking your hand, you grasp one of his and bring it down to your belt. He gets the hint, then quickly tries to get you out of the clothes you can’t bear to be in any longer than you need to be.

While you pull his tie loose, he pulls the concealed carry holster from where it was tucked inside your waist band. He sets it on the nearby table, then pulls your shoulder holster off. You chuckle against him as you pull his own fire arm off and join it with the other two.

“So many guns.” You comment.

Without a risk in the way, he untucks your blouse. “Occupational hazard.” He adds.

Slowly, articles of clothing are making a home on the floor, and once you’re down to your underwear, you’re falling onto the bed with a laugh.

“You’re on my hair.” You wince.

“Sorry.” He adjusts, gripping your waist as he flips the two of you over.

Knees on either side of his hips, you’re free to do the thing you’ve been thinking about all day. Your favorite thing is the little gasp Spencer gives you when you first create a dizzying friction against him. You absorb it with your mouth on his, hands on his cheeks, manicured nails slightly pressing into his skin. You still haven’t figured out what flips inside of you, or what it is exactly that he does that makes your brain think ‘I want to eat him’.

“What time are we flying out tomorrow?” You ask, placing his hands on your hips.

His fingers flex into your skin, and drags you against his lap.

“7:00.” He answers, knowing how much you hate early mornings, and long flights home.

“I have a bone to pick with that Hotchner guy, I think he’s out to get me.” You huff. “He ships us out when the sun comes up, he puts me with Morgan all day, and he never lets me hang around when you’re doing paperwork in the briefing room.”

Spencer, much more brave now, trails his lips down your jaw and neck.

“That’s because you’re distracting.” He states.

You gasp. “I am helpful!”

“Helpful when you have your hand between my legs under the table?”

You giggle. “I’m helpful in more ways than one, baby, and you are no better than me.”

With a slight disbelief of his eye, he pulls away from tracing your pulse with the tip of his tongue, and shakes his head at you.

“How am I no better?”

You slightly tug at the ends of his hair. “Spence, you almost got us caught when you shoved me into the conference room on your lunch break and Emily was looking all over for me.”

He smirks, feeling all too proud of himself for that bold move. “It was my lunch break…I was having lunch.”

Ever since Spencer learned how much he enjoys his face between your thighs, it’s like he’s a junky all over again and can only go so long without making you fall apart for him. You remember thinking that there was no possible way the two of you could get away with it as he pushed your skirt up and sat you on the edge of the table, kneeling before you. You also remember thinking this was one of the hottest things he has ever done.

In the beginning, you were worried that he thought you only wanted sex. The sex, it’s great, it’s …well, it’s wow. But being with Spencer means laughing more than you ever have, spending days off together, holding his hand in public and going to as many bookstores as he likes. It’s all so much more than you ever had before.

At work, it’s the same as it’s always been, you shamelessly flirt and Spencer, being the victim of your sultry ploys, keeps stumbling his words and hardly ever raises red flags.

Sure, the team noticed that he’s a little more out of his shell, has more confidence about him, but they just think he started believing all those compliments you tell him. In all actuality, he just feels proud that he has someone like you in his life, whose socks end up in his laundry and who leaves lipstick stains on the collars of his shirts.

Fingers trace up your spine, raising goosebumps on your skin as they aim for the clasp of your bra. He’s getting pretty good at undoing the hooks.

But just before he can try to beat his time, a knock comes from the door.

The two of you pause, your lips pull back, your fingers leave his hair.

“What do we do?” You whisper.

Panting slightly from the lack of oxygen he receives when your tongue is slotted to his, he just shrugs. “Maybe they’ll go away.”

Just like that, your hips continue their motion and he’s going to free your chest.

Another knock.

“Reid, it’s Morgan.” The voice comes.

Spencer lets out a rather irritated huff, his eyes shut as he swallows hard, willing the man to just go away.

“Reid! Open the door.”

Nope, he’s not leaving.

“Son of a bitch.” He grunts.

“Oh, watch that dirty mouth, Doctor.” You tease as he pulls you off his lap.

He stands, running through mathematical formulas to try and calm down in his boxers. He scoops up a sweatshirt that lays on the back of the desk chair and pulls it on. In a panic, you roll off the bed and hide behind it on the floor, trying to be as quiet as possible.

“Reid-”

Spencer pulls the door open. “What?” He snaps.

Derek is surprised by his bluntness, but he takes in his disheveled appearance and is more confused.

“What were you doing?” He asks.

“R-reading.”

Derek looks at his bare legs. “Without pants on?”

Go away, go away, go away.

Spencer breathes out. “I was about to take a shower. Now, what’s up?”

Morgan folds his arms over his chest. “Everybody is downstairs, don’t be a loner up here.”

Spencer shakes his head. “I’m pretty tired so uh, I’m gonna turn in.”

Morgan looks at him for a moment too long. “You sure you’re okay? You seem…flushed.”

“I’m fine, Morgan, really.” He reassures.

Laying face down on the carpet for a few minutes while the two men hash out whatever it is Morgan needed to, you come to the realization that you’re actually exhausted. By the time Spencer finally gets Derek to leave, you’re sitting yourself back up on the bed with a frown.

“What is it?” His brows furrow as he sees your expression.

Never have you ever had a partner so attentive, so loving in every touch they gave you. But Spencer runs his fingers through your hair as you tell him how you long for sleep, and he reassures you that it was okay you weren’t in the mood anymore.

He brought your bag from your room to his, though you truly just fell asleep in a t shirt and panties.

In the morning, you pretend you were in your room the entire night, and you meet the team in the lobby, fresh faced and ready to fly home.

“What’s your plans for this weekend?” Morgan asks after discussing with Emily what she’ll be doing.

You, who is currently taking up too much space on the couch, look over at the pair and shrug.

“I’ll have you know I have a very hot date with my bathtub when I get home and a very big plan to clean my apartment.”

That was all a lie.

You’d be over at Spencer’s this weekend, you’d be spending all your time with him, acting like a normal couple in public, having dinner and he’d get flustered when you’d kiss him in public.

But the team can’t know that.

Spencer comes back from the back of the jet, only to see his spot on the couch has been taken by your legs. He stares at you for a moment.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want to sit here?” You innocently question.

“Yeah, I’d prefer to.” He nods, watching you smirk.

“All you have to do is ask nicely.”

“Please?”

You sit upright, planting your feet on the ground. “Always so eager to beg.”

Emily laughs, Spencer goes red in the face.

To them, it’s exactly how it always has been between the two of you.

He sits beside you, not too close, but your fingers twitch to reach over and touch him. Your nails go to your mouth instead to keep them busy.

Without truly paying attention, Spencer reaches over and tugs your hand away from your mouth and instead hands you a sucker he pulled from his bag.

It’s such a domestic act that though there’s nothing too suggestive about it, Emily notices. She clocks the behavior as something a little odd. Sure, you and Reid have always been close but since when has he carried around things for you?

Truly, you should’ve known that Emily would be the first to suspect something, but you continued on blissfully, believing that the team was so caught up in everything else that they wouldn’t catch what was happening right under their noses.

“The station was able to get us last minute rooms but there’s only four available, some of us are going to have to double up.” Hotch says nearly a month later on a case in a small Texas town you were only supposed to be in for the day.

But when the case turned into something far more complicated than anticipated, the team opted to stay for a bit longer.

The team shares a few looks as Hotch holds the motel room keys in his hand, all knowing that he wasn’t about to bunk in with Rossi anytime soon.

“I’m not sleeping with Reid.” Morgan declares as he begins to feel like it’s going to be assumed. “Make the girls share a room.”

All three of you begin to protest, knowing you’re fine with sharing but not fine with Morgan making that decision for you.

He holds his hands up in surrender.

JJ, always such a leader, looks to you. “If you and Prentiss want to share, I’ll bunk with Reid.” She sighs.

Spencer starts feeling like he’s a child again, watching his parents talk about custody, knowing one parent truly doesn’t want him.

The suggestion, though innocent, has your nails pressing into your palms. It’s a terrible idea in your mind, because here is a chance to stay with your golden boy for the night and it’s getting taken away.

“I’ll stay with Spencer, I don’t mind. Is that okay with you, Spence?” You turn to look up at him, innocent smile, sultry eyes.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure. Fine- it’s fine with me…I’ll take the floor.” He stutters awkwardly, sealing the deal with a cricked smile that’s very Spencer Reid.

Hotch narrows his eye as he hands you a room key. “Keep the flirting to a minimum.”

“How can I when he just makes it so easy?” You joke, taking the key.

As you grab your bag, Morgan begins to uncontrollably laugh.

“Go easy on him.” He jokes. “He’s a romantic.”

“Morgan.” Reid sighs, following behind you.

“You have a fun sleepover! Hey, you still got that whistle? Yell fire if she gets to be too much!”

I glanced back at Morgan, shaking your head before looking to Spencer. “Come on, lover boy, I don’t bite.”

“Yes you do.” He mutters.

“Only sometimes.”

Hotch prays he’s not going to get an email from HR. He’s already hearing it from Strauss, a meeting needs to be set up for inappropriate conduct between coworkers, and everyone knows Garcia and Morgan aren’t the only ones to blame, not when you’re addressing Spencer as ‘handsome genius’ in work emails.

The door clicks shut and you turn the lock, letting out a sigh and taking in the modest room, everything decorated in a dated western fashion.

“Were you serious about taking the floor?” You ask, causing him to look back over to you.

“If you want me to, yes.”

Bless him and his gentleman qualities, it has you wanting to jump him in the most passionate way.

“Now, why would I want you to be down there when I’ll be up in the mattress all alone? Here I thought you had a high IQ.” You tease, opening your go bag. “You mind if I shower? You could join me if you want.”

The offer is tempting.

“I better stay here in case someone comes knocking, might be a little suspicious if we’re both dripping wet at the same time.” He says, feeling proud that he still can think logically, though it’s far too hard when you’re around.

A smirk pulls at your soft lips. “I thought I was the only one who knew anything about being dripping wet.”

Spencer becomes flush, his cheeks burning as he says your name, prompting you to stop your explicit behavior.

“Sorry, baby, it’s just so easy.” You come to kiss his jaw before finding your way to the bathroom.

The shower is warm and the low light in the bathroom is soothing, you rinse clean and shampoo your hair, making the steam smell like your scent. Spencer browses the minimal television selection, then fights his urge to unmake the bed because he knows you’ll want to adjust the blanket and sheets a certain way.

“The water pressure is surprisingly good.” You say after about fifteen minutes, coming out, releasing that waft of steam.

Toweling your hair, you come back to your bag to find your various travel lotions, though you don’t get very far because Spencer is looking at you like you just hung the moon.

“What?” You ask, slightly adjusting your robe with an unsure smile.

He smiles softly. “I just…it’s unfair how beautiful you are in every form.”

Your heart swoons like it always does when he’s around.

“You have no room to talk, mister.” You remind, abandoning the skin care and come to stand between his knees that he parts for you.

Your finger traces the line of his jaw as his hands gently place on the backs of your thighs.

“You’re so sexy with your hair pushed back like this. Did you start wearing it like this because you knew it would drive me crazy?” You ask coyly, half teasing, running your fingers through it.

“It’s getting long.” He says.

“Nonsense, I love it.”

“You love everything.”

“I love you.”

The two of you pause. Those are three words you haven’t exactly expressed often. It’s been said, in a ramble from Spencer where it just came out and you had beamed up at him like you’ve won a prize.

Now, you say it with certainty, and he wants to hear it again.

“I love you.” You say with more intensity, leaning down to where you have his face in your hands, holding him there as you kiss him.

“I love you too.” He mumbles against your lips.

You don’t pull away when he slowly reaches for the tie of the silky robe, you’d never reject him.

He’s already lost his shoes and socks, his tie and the top buttons of his shirt, but he loses more as you help him. Further up on the bed, you let the open robe fall off your shoulders, not feeling bashful as he studies you with his eyes.

Spencer could never look at you in anything other way than adoration.

“Hotch is dumb.” You decide in his lap, placing his hands on your hips.

“We’re taking advantage of the situation.” Spencer declares, face falling to your shoulder as you sink further down onto him.

“I feel no remorse.” You breathe.

This isn’t the first time you’ve had sex, the first time was a long time coming and it was perfect. So gentle and warm and everything the two of you craved. You laid in his sheets and traced the freckles on his skin and it’s a moment you think of often because you often don’t get them.

Now, you have a moment and are seizing it.

“You okay?” You ask with the drag of your hips.

“You’re heavenly.” Spencer proclaims, tasting the clean skin of your neck.

“Spence.” You gasp, getting the hang of a rhythm. “Fuck.” The word leaves your lips as soon as he thrusts up into you.

You and Spencer have always worked well together so this is no different.

It’s addictive, the feeling stirring in you, the shear pleasure washing over him. He knows a thing or two about addiction and he can confidently say that you make him feel far better than any needle in the vein did.

At some point, with your hands in his hair, mouth hot against his, and his grip moving you how he wants…

Your phone rings.

At first, you do your best to ignore it, but it continues in an annoying fashion.

“No.” You plead, trying to chase that oncoming feeling.

“Who is it?” Spencer breathes heavy as you reach for the device.

“Emily.”

His head falls in defeat, movements slowing, prompting you to answer.

You do your best to not sound aggravated as Emily asks if she can bring dinner by, but the idea of a burger does sound nice.

“Yeah, we could eat.” You state, free hand over Spencer’s mouth to keep him quiet as your slow movements continue.

“Let me know if you need anything else.” Emily states in a kind yet suspicious tone.

“Will do, thanks Em.”

You throw the phone away, overwhelmed and determined to reach the high that was slowly slipping away.

“I hate our team sometimes.” You determine, frustrated that you lost momentum.

Not so gently, Spencer adjusts you to be on the mattress, taking over when you threaten to call off the entire idea because there was a stumble in the step.

“They should just know not to call on the off chance two coworkers are breaking HR rules.” He jokes, entering you without hesitation, making you gasp out.

The roll of his hips is slowly bringing you back to the precipice at a dangerously fast rate, leaving your legs to shake a touch.

“Emily is going to be here soon.” You stress, digging your skull into the pillow.

“We’ll be done before then.” He assures, reaching his hand down to rub his thumb against your clit in a hot friction.

“Emily could stand here and watch for all I care.” You state, pleading for a release. “I just- I need it, baby, please.”

“I know, I know, angel, you’re going to get it.”

How could a man be so soft when he’s doing such dirty things to you? It’s a mystery you’ll never quite understand, but Spencer has always been a wonder, so this is to be expected. He’s coaxing you to the finish, letting you suck on his shoulder to keep your noises down.

And when it happens after the build up of waiting for weeks, it hits like a tidal wave, leaving you speechless, open mouth gasping silently for air. Spencer is shuddering and pressing his face into that space between your jaw and collar bone.

You half expect a phone call, some kind of urgent message that will ruin this moment but nothing comes. It’s just you and Spencer.

At some point after getting cleaned up, you lay side by side, limbs tangled. Your eyes threaten to shut at the way he traces the shape of your face.

“Sometimes I’m just waiting to wake from this dream.” He whispers, tucking hair behind your ear.

You hum. “It’s not a dream, that’s what makes this so great.”

He shifts slightly, tilting his head down to brush his nose to yours. “Sometimes I think it is, because in what reality am I really the person you choose?”

You don’t like that, it obvious on your face. “I’d choose you in every universe, even if you don’t choose me.” You say sternly, a hand pushing his hair back.

He likes when you’re genuine. Well, you’re always genuine, but you also always have a face on, one of coyness and humor. When you’re like this, emotionally bare, he likes you the most.

“I’d never not choose you.” He states before turning to kiss your wrist.

You want to comment about how romantic he is without trying, but Emily knocks like you knew she would.

The two of you spring up, thankful you’re already dressed. You take a calming breath as you head to the door, and Spencer quickly tries to straighten the wrinkled sheets.

Emily isn’t dumb, she knows something is different, but she truly doesn’t suspect anything yet, which is questionable because she has a perfect view of signs that indicate adult activities when she comes in to deliver the burgers.

She goes and tells JJ that the two of you act different, a little more guilty, but Emily doesn’t know for sure until a completely different scenario comes about.

Two weeks later, when you’re sent into a living nightmare. Hotch makes the call to send you into the Unsub’s house alone first, you do it without hesitation because that is just how you do your job when it comes to the life or death of three missing children.

“House is clear, I’m going down to the basement.” You say into the com on your vest, confirming your safety to the team.

But you speak too soon, the Unsub does something the profile was wrong about. Hotch sent you in there because he suspected the man to be submissive to confident women of higher standard.

Though you were cautious, you weren’t expecting the Unsub to attack you at first chance.

You do your best to fight back and get the kids free, but you’re completely blindsided. Who knows what would have happened if SWAT and the team didn’t storm in when they did.

When you sit in the back of the ambulance, in shock, a paramedic cleaning up the gash on your forehead, Spencer is there with concern and comfort.

“The kids?” You ask.

“They’re safe, they’re going to be okay.” He reassured, holding your hand between both of his.

“I didn’t…I should’ve-“

“Shh.” He frowns. “You did good, angel, everything’s alright. Do you feel okay?”

Your brows draw and you shake your head. “I don’t feel well. Do I look well?”

“You have a concussion, sweetheart.” He says, gently pushing your hair back behind your ear.

“Am I still gorgeous?” You ask in a dreamy voice.

“You’re always gorgeous.” He assures, cradling your cheek. “You’re just gorgeous with a head injury that you’re going to go to the hospital to get it looked at.”

Your eyes shut as you hum, the warmth of his palm runs through you. The two of you embrace gently, completely forgetting how casual you are supposed to be appearing.

The team sees it now, of course they do.

You’ll have to explain the secret you’ve been hiding from them later, but now you’re just listening to Spencer’s voice murmur to you, wrapped in his FBI jacket, fighting the urge to adjust his hair.

[anantaru]

how would anemo boys act with someone who’s generally really quiet and just doesn’t make much noise? especially in bed 😏

including. scaramouche, kazuha

synopsis. you're hiding your moans from him

cw. [ex]plicit, lots of teasing, rough syx, fingering, scara doubts himself a little we love to see it, dom kazuha, fem! reader

— ꒰ SCARAMOUCHE ꒱

"huh, why aren't you saying anything?" scaramouche asks, staring at you while playfully blending in a few grinding movements on your cunt in hopes you'd just moan his name.

you see to scaramouche, to even get one single sentence out had been really fucking hard, so how come you're having no trouble keeping yourself silent?

all night, he was very sensitive, hissing through each thrust and alternating between rough, rushed ruts and deep, precise grinds that it was slowly getting to him.

"—fuck, j-just something," he mumbles through a tensed jaw, peering down at your perfectly arched body as you teasingly avert your gaze from his, pretending as if the desperate part of him wasn't turning you on a tenfold.

your boyfriend hesitatingly brings a hand to your cheek, "say something, come on," and lets go off a moan, deepening the sealed connection on your cunt and turning his hips slower, making you dart your eyes into the back off your skull when he buries inches after inches in you.

you grin in return, hoping you could at least put up with this game a little longer.

but your cunt was struggling viciously, being so adaptable with how quick scaramouche could change his movements that it left you short on breath— it's all rigid and solid at first, later he stretches you out piercingly fast, until your pussy was twitching on repeat.

your breath gets stuck in your throat as he snaps his cock in before you feel him twitch in you, the very moment you made a slight noise of surprise, "you're not answering my question," scaramouche hisses at you, having his hand stroke your cheek while he makes you take his cock well and nicely.

but whatever, right? it doesn't matter to scaramouche if you're being loud or dead silent— although pondering about the situation at hand, he's been so patient waiting for your flowery whines to bubble from your throat, to your tongue until he listens to them, biding his time and allowing himself to fuck you like he thought you enjoyed it.

what if you didn't enjoy it? everything happened so quickly and he found himself doubting his skills, it makes him go slow and rapid all at once.

to hear you was something he didn't deserve then.

but how much he wanted to hear you say he was doing a good job was ridiculous. as much as it was desperate.

you hum affirmatively in response, your mouth softly attached to his jaw before you rock your hips upwards in a repeated sequence, an electric-bolt snapping in your heat as you moan into his lips— granted, it wasn't the loudest noise you could push out, yet it was a genuine one, to the point where your head spins when you're moaning again, only emphasizing how deeply you were feeling his length pleasure you.

that alone brought scaramouche back to reality.

slick drips from your hole and he knows by the flinch of your touch that you're close. he was breathing heftily against your glossy lips as if it's a relief to have you sing for him now, his cock throbbing hard until he's spasming.

his face silently travels from your eyes to your tits flinging up and down with his shallow thrusts racing through your velvet walls, "I love everything about this," he whispers, slightly flustered, droplets of sweat slithering down his forehead, "you love it too, hm?"

scaramouche needs to know. he lays open mouthed kisses on your cheek and jaw, smearing his saliva over the heated skin.

your moans were euphonious, bird sweet and soothing to his ears, a perfect composition indeed.

"v-very," you cup his cheeks proudly, arching your back into his body as his cock drags across your searing walls,

you go on, pulling your hips up to meet his so he could slip into you deeper, watching how his mouth parts and brows knit together,

"you're doing s-so good, always,"

— ꒰ KAZUHA ꒱

"oh? doing this on purpose, aren't you?" kazuha grunts at the clench you have around his shaft, but then he smirks after you denied his questioning on your noises, or well, the sheer lack of them.

have you gone silent? or do you not like the way he stretches your pussy anymore?

the slow pumps on your cunt had always been precise. kazuha knows you like the back of his hand, in fact, he gets turned on in accessory to displayed a sort of filthy and twisted expression on his darling face, morphing his demeanor on his weighty thrusts on your pussy, so you could see and feel what you're doing to him.

he managed to not only target the places that made your mind rewire, but kazuha would also find new spots you never knew could be stimulated in that way.

"no matter," the man gasps at the rolls through your walls, his thrusts shocking each and every nerve in his body, "i'll just have to get them out of you somehow,"

he adds before pulling his body up so he could prance one hand down the area between your breasts, smothering over the sweat-stricken skin so softly until he reaches your stomach, teasingly pressing down as he cocks a brow.

you can feel how hard he was slotted in your cunt, and when kazuha pushes down on your stomach you thought your little game would end right there. little do you realize that this wasn't his original intention and that he's planned something a whole lot delicious.

he slides a thumb to your clit, leisurely and without a hurry, his erection barely moving now but twitching ever so often as he slowly digs through the delicate skin that was protecting the pearl, rubbing your clit softly to hopefully bring your mewls and whines to the surface.

a searing warmth runs hot in your cunt as your back arches when kazuha alternates between toying with your clit and pumping you of his cock again, slowly dragging his erection against your velvety walls with all he's got.

realize this now— it's that one special way he did it, moving his shaft in a slowed motion so your body could react on how full you've been getting with each inch slotted inside.

your head was above the clouds now, serving to diminish your previous attempts to fool your boyfriend. you needed this so badly right now, you wanted kazuha to make you cum so badly that you're beginning to gasp loudly, so loud in fact that it almost overturned the fast thuds of your heart.

opening your dazed eyes, you needed kazuha to listen and watch you, watch everything he made your body do— how he's bringing his cock in you easily, how he slowly pumps in your hole and meshes his shaft with your arousal, his erection aching, hot, slowly and teasingly spreading you apart.

a whimper slips through your lips when kazuha slants forward, swirling his tongue in your mouth but keeping things slow.

your body shivers under the lewd wetness of sweaty skin on skin rubbing against each other as it provided you with strong, electrifying tremors when your legs begin to clench around his hips, your pussy full of his cock.

"told you so," he hints at his previous declaration as your body combusts in a matter of seconds, your cunt pulsing at his words when your arousal slides over his length with pre dripping from his tip.

"not fair," you whine as he laughs breathily, nibbling on your jawline, the softness of his lips painted with the vivid hues of passion.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[specialgradefckr]

tw: explicit content. satoru/reader. dark dark DARK, bad end au, sorcerer breeding programs, consent is not a thing for sorcerers, all sorts of bad shit.

ultra dark dystopian au where the public knows what cursed spirits are and jujutsu society isn't controlled by the higher ups.

it's controlled by the government.

sorcerers are national assets. tools, property, born and raised to be weapons against cursed spirits.

they're taken from their mothers at birth. indoctrinated and trained in facilities until they're old enough to be sent out to kill curses. they start somewhere around 13. most of them don't reach adulthood.

with attrition rates so high, where are they getting all this fodder?

special grades like satoru gojo don't spend most of their time out in the field.

as soon as he was of age he's sent to a suitable mate. breeding stock like him should create more sorcerers.

for what? to be killed?

the questions come to his mind every now and then, but he knows they're useless. he doesn't think much about why things are the way they are.

he's a weapon. he's been a weapon his entire life. this is what he's good at. what he's meant for.

however he feels about his life, satoru gojo was born and bred for sorcery, in every universe. he loves it. what do the details matter?

things aren't so different for satoru in this au. he wakes up, kills curses, creates new sorcerers, gets maybe 3 hours of sleep and does it again.

he doesn't get to pick who or when he's bred with. he's a stud. his partners are broodmares. sorcerers who managed to survive the meat grinder of exorcism.

when satoru gojo meets you, he doesn't know you. doesn't even know your name.

he doesn't need that to get you pregnant. he's sent to a room, locked in there with you, crystal-clear instructions on what you're meant to do.

it isn't his first time doing this. it's not your first time either, he's sure.

it's not romantic. it's not even sexy. it's quiet, practical, and methodical -

but oh. oh, does it feel good.

he doesn't know if it's just your body, or if this is something you actively do but it feels like you're clenching around him, like your cunt is embracing him and refusing to let go.

you're touchy, too. touching his face, his hair, his body. satoru is used to roving eyes (he's instructed never to say no; after all, what if a woman who fucked him bore a sorcerer child?) and hands.

but your hands aren't greedy. they're tender. gentle caresses like the sigh you make when he buries himself to the hilt inside you.

he nearly jerks at the feeling of your lips on his neck. kisses littered up to the underside of his jaw, featherlight fleeting. ghostly, even.

when he's rutting into you, quick, efficient motions to get him closer to the edge, you meet his ice-blue gaze and press your lips to his -

it's the first time he's been kissed on the lips.

he remembers your eyes watering the first time he penetrated you. next time, he makes a point to whet his fingertips, rub over your clit, kiss your breasts, your neck, until you're dripping over him.

he doesn't know why. it's unnecessary effort. all he has to do is release inside you.

but he supposes if you're both stuck here for a while, it might as well be... nice.

and it is nice. this time he feels one of your hands grasp his, a strange feeling churning in his gut as you guide his hand to your clit.

with just a few careful swipes, timed to the rhythm of your hips bucking into him, the sonnet of your little gasps and moans, he watches you start to shiver and quake.

you clench around him and something inside him lights up, tugging, bright and hot and bursting along with his climax.

it's never been like this before, never been this good. you squeeze around him like you're milking him, panting with your mouth slack and opened wide, eyes glossy and dilated.

irrationally, he leans in to cover your mouth with his, lap at your tongue, steal away your desperate breaths and feel you moan and squirm beneath him.

when he moves to pull out, your arms dart around him, holding him close. like you don't want him to leave.

and even though it's never been like this, even though he's never tried this hard or liked it this much, satoru still thinks this is the strangest part.

laying there, bodies entwined, chests rising and falling as you fall asleep against one another.

it's warm. it's hot and sweaty and full of the stench of sex and bodily fluids, and it should be disgusting, but it's not.

maybe he's just too tired to care. when his six eyes finally close, the darkness that embraces him is warm, enticing, and absolute.

he can only just make out your heartbeat within it.

there's a few days of that, until your fertile period is over and you part, without words.

in fact he can't recall if he even spoke to you. you might not even know his name, though he's rather infamous, and with his hair and eyes he's hard to mistake.

satoru thinks about you sometimes. in the dead quiet of the night when his brain refuses to stop churning. in the midst of battle.

in the beds of the others he's meant to breed, cooling bodies laying against him as he brings himself to climax inside them and then pulls away.

it doesn't even feel that good anymore. not now that he'd had it with you.

sometimes he wishes he'd never had you. most times, he wants you there with him.

none of it matters. he knows that. he kills curses, he mates with fellow sorcerers. they're walking wombs, and he's a sperm donor. an impersonal exchange.

the worst is when he's summoned to fight a curse that seems just a little too low grade for him.

usually because the sorcerers originally dispatched failed.

in jujutsu sorcery, failure is death.

but high-level sorcerers like him aren't usually dispatched against lower level curses. it's almost invariably weaker sorcerers - younger ones.

it takes him an instant to exorcise it. seconds, really.

how many people died trying to do what was second nature to him?

how many of them were children?

it's his fault, in the end. for not being able to be everywhere at once. having to breed more to replace the sorcerers that wouldn't have been lost if he didn't have to spend so much time breeding.

the system churns through sorcerers like a meat grinder. anyone who comes out alive is squeezed for raw material, to make more of them.

an unending marathon. all that's waiting for them on the other side is death, death or being reduced to breeding stock.

he wonders what happens to female sorcerers who can't be bred anymore. are they just worked until they die?

do they ever get to see their children?

it's been years. if he'd gotten you pregnant then his children might be old enough to be sent out by now. if he has any children.

at the rate they've been having him fuck, he must have at least a few.

where are they? where are you? useless questions.

there's only been one fellow sorcerer he was able to keep track of throughout the years, and he...

well. he won't be seeing him again.

but he does see you again. years later.

do you remember him? he remembers you. how many others have you been bred with? was there a dark, long-haired sorcerer among them?

someone with sharp violet eyes and a warm smile and large hands? did you have any children by him?

is there anything left of his friend in this world?

the questions bubble in his chest, staining the back of his throat like bile.

if he asked, he's sure you would answer. you smile when you see him.

but instead he buries himself inside you, in your arms, your tight embrace. this is the only time he gets to feel good.

is this the only time you get to feel good, too? during this week of your fertile window, when they send you in to anonymous sorcerers to get fucked pregnant?

breeding stock, he remembers. what will be done with you when you can no longer bear children? what do you have to look forward to?

satoru wants to ask. did you have any children by him? did any of them survive?

but instead he buries himself in you to the hilt. until you keen and stretch underneath him.

even if he did ask, you wouldn't know.

you hold him too tightly for a brood mare, for an encounter that will only last as long as your fertile window.

do you yearn for these moments, too? do you miss him, do you want to see him again?

did you bear his children? did you want to show them to him when they were born? did you want him there?

did you - you're looking up at him hopefully, arms that hold him close, it's time to leave now and your eyes are wet and empty and your shoulders drop as you lay back on the bed limply -

geto was right.

[letstrip13]

m.s - nsfw alphabet

inspired by @sturniolobsessed !!!

read the chris version here <3

------------------------୨୧------------------------

A - AFTERCARE (what are they like after sex?)

he’s so so so so sweet about it. of course he makes sure you’re okay and you have everything you need, but what he looks forward to the most are the cuddles after. he loves falling asleep skin to skin with you, his arms wrapped around your body and his face in the crook of your neck. also, he is 100% the boyfriend who will carry you to the bathroom to pee after sex if he makes you unable to walk right.

B - BODY PART (their favourite body part of theirs and their partner’s?)

he loves every inch of you but it would be a tough decision between your tits, your lips, and your thighs. he loves touching your tits, not even in a sexual way half the time. he just likes having them in his hands. as for your lips, he loves kissing them, loves the feeling of them trailing kisses up and down his neck, loves the way they look wrapped around his cock. + he loves having his hand on your thigh as he drives, always squeezing it or rubbing it. his favourite body parts of his are his arms and back. he loves the way you adore his tattoos, always touching them and tracing them. he loves wrapping his arms around you. as for his back, he loves the way you scratch it up during sex.

C - CUM (anything to do with cum.)

his favourite place to do it is inside you. he loves filling you up and watching it drip out of you after he pulls out.

D - DIRTY SECRET (what is a dirty secret of theirs?)

he secretly lurks on tumblr from time to time to sort of get advice on things to do/say during sex. unbeknownst to you, it does help. but he tries to keep it minimal, only doing it when he feels he's really stuck in a rut now since he doesn't want you getting suspicious of anything. but he did it more when you first started sleeping together, wanting to impress you. his tumblr days are pretty much over now but it's still hiding where he needs it just in case.

E - EXPERIENCE (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he is not one to put himself out there so his body count before you was probably zero. but like chris, he's a fast learner when it comes to pleasing you.

F - FAVOURITE POSITION (self explanatory.)

missionary because he loves being as close to you as possible and loves seeing your face. sometimes, he'll put your legs over his shoulders to get even deeper. a close second is cowgirl with his hands on your thighs or hips and your tits within easy reach for his mouth or hands.

G - GOOFY (are they serious or goofy in the moment?)

he's completely serious in the moment but will crack jokes after.

H - HAIR (how well trimmed are they? does the carpet match the drapes?)

same as chris, keeps it clean and trimmed but doesn't shave it all.

I - INTIMACY (how intimate are they in the moment?)

very intimate and in the moment. he loves to savour every second with you.

J - JERKING OFF (masturbation.)

he's definitely the type to have ‘accidentally’ ended up with a pair of your panties after they ‘got mixed up in the laundry.’ for the most part, he'll just go to you when he's horny so he doesn't have much use for it anyways.

K - KINKS (what kinks do they have?)

he for sure has a breeding kink with the way he loves cumming inside you and filling you up. he also has a cockwarming kink; he can never get enough of the way he stuffs you so full. he'll stay in you, perfectly still, for as long as you'll let him.

L - LOCATION (favourite place(s) to do it?)

since missionary is his favourite position, his go-to is either his or your bed. but he's always up for car sex with you.

M - MOTIVATION (what gets them going?)

kissing his neck and playing with his hair. also you matching his energy when he gets an attitude and giving him one right back just does something to him.

N - NO (things they are not open to in bed.)

like chris, he does not want you anywhere near his ass.

O - ORAL (are they good at it? do they like giving or receiving more?)

matt the munch is all that needs to be said. but he's a sucker (no pun intended) for receiving. his favourite thing is when you let him take full control, holding your hair back for you as he fucks your throat.

P - PACE (fast and rough? or slow and sensual?)

it depends but he's more of a slow and sensual kind of man. sometimes he'll mix them and fuck you rough but at a slower pace. the way he'll thrust like that drives both of you insane.

Q - QUICKIE (their opinion on quickies and how often you have them.)

he prefers to take his time with you. given a choice, he will always go the long route with lots of teasing and foreplay. but he will never say no to a quickie in his car or if he's horny before either of you need to be somewhere.

R - RISK (are they willing to take risks?)

he likes to play it safe and stay in his comfort zone but if you have ideas, he's pretty open to them.

S - STAMINA (how many rounds can they go? how long do they last?)

much like chris, he can go a good two or three rounds but he tries to drag it out as long as he can.

T - TOYS (do they own toys? if so, which ones?)

same as chris. he doesn't own any, but if you have a vibrator, he's more than happy to use it on you. he'll love to tease you and overstimulate you with it. maybe he might even let you try it on him just to experiment.

U - UNFAIR (do they like to tease?)

the rings, the tongue thing, the pink slutty waist shirt, the glasses, the stubble !!! he's a slut and he knows it. he teases you to no end whether it's subtle like those things or whether he's bringing you close to cumming then denying you the release over and over again.

V - VOLUME (how loud are they? do they grunt, moan, whimper, etc?)

he's quiet yet vocal if that makes sense. he does it all: groans, moans, grunts, even whimpers and whines but he's not super loud about it. unless he really can't control himself which is more often than he means to. so it's a good balance between the two.

W - WILD CARD (a random headcannon.)

his biggest sex dream/fantasy is to have you suck him off while he's driving but he won't bring it up because he's afraid of crashing.

X - X-RAY (what's going on under their clothes?)

he's like seven inches as well but not as girthy as chris is.

Y - YEARNING (how high is their sex drive?)

he gets horny a lot but he's good at hiding it until you're alone.

Z - ZZZ (how fast do they fall asleep after?)

no matter how tired he is, he will fight to stay awake until he knows you're asleep. after that, he's out like a light.

------------------------୨୧------------------------

author's note: check out this post! + last chance to join the writing comp

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[starfxkrinc]

wanna know what really went down the first time jj and sweet pea fucked?

you could barely focus the rest of the day, this was different. this wasn't the boys in your class sneaking in for a 8 minute pump and dump. jj was a man, one that's been whispered about all your life. always seen coming out of someone's trailer hours after their husband left.

the subject of the first wet dream that left you shaking and rutting against your pillow.

now it was real. flesh and blood. you paced throughout the living room, watching as the time crept from midnight, to fifteen minutes past and he still wasn't here. you were beginning to worry he stood you up when the backdoor creaked open.

clumsily, you skittered to him as he poked his head through the door, stepping through and stopping you before you crashed into him.

"woah woah, slow down," he closed the door behind you. he locked it. and it all began to feel too real, "lemme get a good look at you."

heart thudding you let him look over you, you didn't know what to expect. his hand travelled from your cheek to your breast, swiping a thumb over you nipple, smirking when you gasp as it puckers.

"what's all this?"

nervously you giggle, and now you're second guessing yourself. you thought he'd like it. you didn't wanna give him the same experience you gave everyone else-- sleep shorts and an old t-shirt--you wanted to prove you could be more. take more. so you put on your nicest dress even if that wasn't saying much. you matched your underwear. swiped on some red lipstick.

all in all you wanted to look older.

"you don't like it?" you looked down at your feet and cringed at the sparkly polish on your toes.

jj just shrugs, "lets sit down for a bit."

'a bit' turns into an hour. and you sit on the far side of the couch the whole time. suddenly you regret this. it's all too much, the weight of your age difference hangs heavily between you. you want him to leave.

before you can speak, jj breaks the silence, "why you sittin all the way over there hm? c'mere." you don't get the option to move before he reaches over, wrapping his tattooed hand around your thigh to pull you across the couch with ease. the snarling dog looks ready to tear through your guts.

he tucks you closer and you know he can feel you shaking, breaths coming out in quick gasps as he strokes your soft skin, his other hand coming up to your cheek, "you're such a pretty girl. i don't know why you put all this shit on your face." jj rubs his thumb across your lip, smearing the red as you struggle to speak.

"i don't want you to look at me like a little kid."

"who says that bothers me?"

your bottom lips trembling. you want him to leave but the request dies in your throat when he kisses you and you could almost keel over from the heat.

this was. different. jj kisses like he's gonna devour you. it's not sloppy and wet like the other boys. you can feel each slide of his tongue against yours in your panties. it's too much. you want to pull away.

you fall back onto the cushions. the dog cups your cunt.

when he pulls back your gasping, and jj laughs down at you like an amused father, "like that?"

you nod but you feel embarrassed, there's no way he can't feel how wet you are between your clenched thighs. not with how he rubs his palm against you.

"breathe sweetheart, i got you."

it's only then you realize you're practically hyperventilating. he has to leave before this goes too far.

"relax, open up let me see." jj coaxs you like a feral cat, smushing his palm against you as the tension melts out of you. you look even more vulerable with your lipstick smeared and your panties stuck to you lips. when he unbuttons your dress he groans.

you're matching, lacy black bra and black panties. a cherry embroidered on the front. a little girl's idea of sexy underwear.

"jj..." your voice brings him back to the present, your eyes are wide and watery and he wonders what he looks like to you, "can we--can we just watch a movie or something?"

he grips your thigh tighter, "why'd you invite me over then? thought you were just gonna cock tease me and send me on my fuckin way?"

"no! i just--i don't feel--"

when he grabs your throat your stomach drops, "i'm not one of your little boyfriends. i'm not playin this hot n cold shit with you."

now you're whole body's trembling and you look near tears, so he reels back, relaxing his hold on your throat to something softer, "i know you're scared, it's all new and you're used to being in charge."

sniffling you nod, "they never know what to do."

"right. i know what i'm doin. no games. me and you, like adults. and you're a big girl sweet pea. i wouldn't do anything you can't handle."

jj takes your smile as a yes, you needed the validation, you needed to feel like an equal in this.

he knows you're not.

when slides down and spreads you open he has to take a second, groaning into your thigh because for how scared you claim to be you're so fucking wet. a milky trickle of arousal drips down between your asscheeks and his tongue fucking throbs at the thought of tasting you. so he does. starting from the crack of your ass and trailing up to your puffy clit before he latches on.

"god fuck!"

he can feel your thighs shaking around his head, clamping shut as you bring a hand to your mouth to muffle the noise. jj's confident he's never tasted anything like you--heady and musky. despite his nose being buried in your bush he can smell your sweet, fruity lotion mixing with the scent of your pussy and he feels fucking dizzy. like he's been given a shot of black tar heroin right to the heart.

you're really gasping now, hips bucking under his strong grip as he licks and sucks like he's trying to reach the peach pit of your guts. ravenous like a starving dog.

"please make me cum, i'm gonna f-fuck-cum please."

your clit pulses and twitches between his lips, and all it takes is a couple more sucks before flooding his mouth. and he all but licks you clean.

it's only when you're flinching does jj pull back, kissing up your body as you lay there, eyes closed--sated.

"where's your room?"

your eyes fluttered opened, surprised. you were done, nobody's ever made you cum like this before and you didn't even think you could go again, "what? but i'm-"

"don't start that shit. you asked me over, you're done when i say you're done."

that sick feeling again. he had to leave.

"no- no jj you have to go, it's late and i don't think we should--"

bad move, very bad move. because he hauled you up like it was nothing--half naked and blubbering that you were done. that it'd gone too far and you wanted him to leave as he kicked open one door, then another as he found your room.

"cute."

he threw you down so fast you barely got a chance to bounce before he was on top of you, pinning you down with a hand on your throat as you sobbed, "jj please, i won't tell anyone you came over just go home! i'm sorry, i can't do this, i changed my mind!"

"tough shit little girl. next time? don't ask to fuck if you don't wanna fuck." when he drops his pants you cry harder, and he lays it against your stomach, "look at that. that's how deep ima be sugar."

hauling your thighs to your chest he practically squats over you, pressing the uncut head of his dick to your pouting hole, "shit, can you even take all this..." it's like he's not even talking to you, bullying his way in as you beat against his chest in tears.

"please--please stop it hurts!"

jj smiles at you, mean and predatory with a sharklike grin. the dog grabs your face, covering your mouth, its maw open to drink up your tears.

"you’ll be okay."

he drops his hips and if it weren't for the hand on your mouth you'd scream the house down. you're so flared around his base its a miracle you don't split in two. but jj just groans, loud and long as he starts fucking into you, "shit. you taste sweet sugar but goddamn you feel sweeter. you sure you aint a virgin?"

you sob, you feel sick, but he's filling you like no one has before, you can feel your heart beating in your clit stronger with each thrust, "no--i just--fuck that's--"

you let out a shaky moan and jj knows he got you, cockdrunk and hazy like you weren't just begging him to stop, "yeah i know. babys gettin her first real fuckin."

his hips slam so hard against yours they bounce off the bed, your hands wandering as you struggle to find something to hold onto. never in your life have you felt like this, hot and cold all at once, like someone's found a way to set your nervous system alight. even your skin feels sensitive when his palm rubs against your stomach.

"you were fuckin made for this sweet pea, fuckin tellin ya. lord knows how long i wanted this."

the truth's itching at his tongue, the fact that he's been thinking about this for years, far longer than he should have, like you dont still have baby fat on your hips.

"m-me too."

"yeah...how long?"

when you cry this time it's from embarrassment, shielding yourself from his view with your palms, "since...since i was 11 i dreamt about you."

he gets a flash of you then, suddenly shy around him, near tears when he talked to you and running back to your room after he patted your back.

"you wanted your daddy even back then?"

hysterical now--from embarrassment, from arousal from it all-- you wail, "yes!"

jj shudders, he can feel it wrap around the base of his spine, it won't be long so he smushes he thumb against your clit, not even rubbing, just the steady pressure, "alright. alright, i'm here now i've been waitin on you baby, you're my little girl now."

no noise comes out when you cum, not for a long while before you let out a long shuddering wheeze as you cream around him. and he's right behind you, groaning and pressing so close you feel his balls twitch against your ass while he cums sticky and hot against your cervix.

you're still crying when he pulls out--panting like a dog and he collapses next to you.

"hey, stop cryin you're fine."

guilt and disgust has wrapped itself around you. he's dug his way deep into your core. you don't feel so grown up anymore.

[theonottsbxtch]

FREE NOW PT 2 | OP81

an: someone requested this a while back but i didn't feel inspired at the time, after having spent xmas in london, i was reinspired so please enjoy

wc: 5.2k

HER PHONE BUZZED, the screen lighting up with a single word that might as well have been a thunderclap: Hello.

She stared at it, the glow of the message cutting through the dimness of her cluttered apartment. Her stomach flipped, and for a moment, she thought she might be sick. It had been months. Months since she’d last seen him, since he’d left her standing in the cold outside that little café, snowflakes catching in her hair like she was some kind of tragic heroine in a story she hadn’t agreed to star in.

Oscar.

She hated how the sight of his name made her heart race, hated how easily the memory of him surged to the surface: the way his laugh felt like summer breaking through the dead of winter, the way his hand had lingered at the small of her back just long enough to make her forget how to breathe. And now, this—just hello. No context. No explanation. Like he hadn’t walked away and left her to unravel herself alone.

Her thumb hovered over the message. She should reply—shouldn’t she? Her mind reeled, cycling through questions she hadn’t asked herself in weeks: Why didn’t he want me? She’d spent night after night dissecting the answer like a broken thing she couldn’t figure out how to fix. She wasn’t glamorous enough, she wasn’t exciting enough, not compared to the champagne-soaked world he belonged to.

And yet, even as she raged inwardly, she’d watched every single one of his races. At first, she’d told herself it was just curiosity—a fascination with the world she’d glimpsed through him. But with each podium finish, with every glint of triumph in his eyes, she’d been reminded of the man who had kissed her like she was his whole world and then left her behind without so much as a second glance.

She hadn’t answered his message, not for weeks. What could she possibly say? Every possible reply felt either too brittle or too raw. So she let it sit there, a glowing reminder of the question she couldn’t bring herself to ask: What do you want from me now?

That night, she sat in her cramped living room, her laptop screen flickering in front of her, a blank page mocking her efforts to start the sequel she was supposed to be halfway through by now. The cursor blinked, impatient. She pressed her fingertips to her temples, trying to summon even a fragment of an idea, but her mind kept circling back to the message. Hello.

It wasn’t fair, she thought bitterly. He’d been the one to leave, and now he got to reach out, to drop back into her life like no time had passed at all. But as much as she hated the selfishness of it, part of her wanted to reply. Not for him—for herself. For the chance to spark something, anything, that might get her out of the rut she’d been stuck in since he’d walked away.

She picked up her phone, her fingers trembling as she tapped out a reply. It was short, cautious.

Hi.

She stared at the word for a long moment before hitting send, her heart pounding as the message left her screen. She told herself it was just a small step, a selfish one. She didn’t owe him anything, after all. But somewhere deep down, she knew: this was the start of something she couldn’t quite name yet.

And for the first time in weeks, the cursor on her screen stopped blinking.

The moment her message was marked as “read,” her heart stumbled, caught in a snare she’d told herself she wouldn’t fall into again. When his reply came seconds later, the little banner popping up on her screen, her breath hitched.

Can we call?

She swallowed hard, the question hanging in the air like a trap she saw coming but didn’t step around. A tiny part of her, the sensible part, screamed at her to say no. This was selfish—purely, entirely selfish. She wasn’t reaching out because she wanted to fix what had broken between them. She didn’t want him back. Not really. This was about her. About needing something—anything—to pull her out of the fog she’d been living in since he’d left.

She wasn’t going to catch feelings again. She couldn’t. He’d shown her exactly what his priorities were, and she wasn’t naive enough to think anything had changed. This wasn’t about him, she told herself as she tapped out a reply. It was about her.

Sure.

The moment she sent it, her phone buzzed with an incoming call. Her stomach twisted as she picked it up, hesitating before answering and lying back on her bed. She set the phone down on the pillow next to her and turned on the speaker, as though putting distance between herself and the device would make this feel less immediate, less intimate.

“Hi,” she said, her voice softer than she’d intended.

“Hi,” he replied. His voice was warm, familiar in a way that made her chest ache. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence stretching thin between them. She was about to say something—anything—to break it when he finally spoke. “I, uh... I read your book.”

Her heart stopped. She blinked at the ceiling, her mind scrambling to process his words. “You... you did?” she managed, hoping she didn’t sound as stunned as she felt.

“Yeah.” There was a smile in his voice, faint but unmistakable. “I saw it in an airport bookstore. Your name caught me off guard. The cover looked good, though. So I bought it. I wasn’t expecting...” He trailed off, and she could hear the hesitation in his tone.

“Wasn’t expecting what?” she pressed, trying to sound nonchalant, though her fingers twisted in the hem of her sweater.

“To like it,” he admitted, a sheepish laugh escaping him. “But I did. I was... impressed. The way you captured things. Us.”

Her throat tightened, and she turned her face into the pillow, grateful he couldn’t see her expression. She cleared her throat, forcing her voice to stay steady. “Well, it’s not like you gave me much of a choice. You kind of handed me the perfect material.”

He went quiet for a beat. Then: “I shouldn’t have ended things the way I did.”

There it was. The thing she’d been waiting for, without even realizing it. She let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, covering it with a quick cough. “Oh, no worries. It worked out for me in the end. I got a New York Times bestseller out of it,” she said, aiming for lightness but missing the mark.

He exhaled sharply, and she couldn’t tell if it was a laugh or a sigh. “That’s what I mean. You turned something... painful into something amazing. And I’m proud of you for that. I just... I’m sorry for the part I played in the pain.”

Her chest felt too tight, her emotions too tangled to unravel. She reached for something casual to say, something that wouldn’t give away how much his words rattled her. “Well, if you wanted to apologise, you could’ve done it before my deadline,” she quipped, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself.

“That’s fair,” he said softly. “But I’m glad it worked out. You deserved it.”

His words lingered in the air, and she found herself staring at the faint cracks in her ceiling, her fingers still twisting in her sweater. This was selfish, she reminded herself. She wasn’t doing this for him. But somehow, it didn’t feel like a lie when she said, “Thanks.”

The cursor on her laptop screen blinked in the corner of her vision, but for the first time all night, she wasn’t looking at it.

She didn’t know how long they stayed like that, the silence between them no longer awkward but still weighted, stretched taut with unspoken words. She shifted on her bed, her arm brushing against the phone as she debated whether to push for more or let it lie.

“Why now?” she asked finally, her voice quieter than she meant. “Why reach out after all this time?”

He hesitated. She could hear it in the way his breath hitched, in the faint hum of background noise from wherever he was calling. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted. “And then I saw the book, and it just... it brought everything back.”

Her chest tightened again, but this time it wasn’t anger or frustration. It was something softer, something she wasn’t sure she was ready to name. “Oscar,” she began, trying to keep her tone measured, “you walked away. And I get it—you had your reasons. But you don’t just get to walk back in whenever it’s convenient for you.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “I know I don’t deserve that. And I don’t want to mess things up for you. I just...” He sighed, and the sound was so human, so vulnerable, it made her heart ache despite her resolve. “I missed you.”

Her breath caught. She rolled onto her side, facing the phone as though it would help her understand the words better. “You can’t say things like that,” she said, but the anger in her voice was diluted by something softer, something closer to longing.

“I mean it,” he said. “I missed you. I miss the way you look at things, the way you see the world. It’s different. It’s... real.”

She wanted to laugh, wanted to scoff, wanted to hang up the phone just to prove to herself that she could. But she didn’t. Instead, she whispered, “And what? You thought you’d just drop back into my life and everything would be fine?”

“I didn’t know what I thought,” he admitted. “I just knew I had to try.”

The silence returned, heavier this time. She bit her lip, staring at the faint glow of the phone screen, her thoughts swirling. This wasn’t fair. He didn’t get to come back into her life and make her feel things she’d spent months burying.

But hadn’t she been the one to reply? Hadn’t she opened this door, knowing full well where it might lead?

She closed her eyes, letting out a slow breath. “You broke me, you know,” she said finally, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to keep it steady. “But you also gave me something I didn’t think I could ever have. That book—” She paused, her throat tightening. “That book saved me. Writing it saved me. So I don’t know whether to thank you or hate you.”

He didn’t respond right away, but when he did, his voice was quiet, almost fragile. “What if I said you don’t have to choose?”

She barked out a laugh, harsh and unsteady. “Oh, come on. It’s not that simple.”

“No,” he said. “It’s not. But I don’t expect you to forgive me, or trust me, or even want me in your life. I just... I needed you to know I’m sorry. For all of it.”

She closed her eyes again, her hand hovering over the phone as though she might end the call, but her fingers didn’t move. She didn’t know what to say.

“Listen,” he continued, his tone softening, “I don’t want to mess up what you have going on. You’re doing amazing, and I’m proud of you. I just... I’d like to talk. If you’ll let me.”

She swallowed hard, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through her defenses. She hated that it got to her, but it did. “I don’t know, Oscar,” she said finally. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“I get it,” he said quickly, his voice tinged with something that might have been desperation. “Take your time. I’ll be here.”

She laughed softly, bitterly. “You weren’t before.”

“I know,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. “But I’m here now.”

She didn’t respond, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn’t untangle. The cursor on her laptop blinked in her peripheral vision, steady and unrelenting.

“Goodnight, Oscar,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Goodnight,” he replied, and this time, she ended the call.

For a long moment, she lay there in the quiet, staring at the cracks in her ceiling. The cursor still blinked, but the words she’d been searching for all night were beginning to take shape in her mind.

It started with an Instagram comment.

She’d posted a photo of the snow falling outside her apartment, captioned simply: Winter always comes back around.

The comment was there an hour later, buried among thousands of others but impossible to miss: Still your favorite season?

Her heart jolted, even though she knew it was coming. She’d left the door open by replying to his text, by taking his call. She told herself it didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t as if they were friends. But the comment—casual, public, and so unmistakably him—hit her differently.

And, predictably, his fans went crazy.

Within minutes, her notifications were flooded with a whirlwind of speculation: Oscar commented! Is she the girl he was talking to Lando about in that DTS episode?! Is this his gf??

She muted her notifications, refusing to be pulled into the frenzy. But when she sat down to write later that night, she found herself lingering on that comment, the question lingering in her mind like an itch she couldn’t scratch.

Winter had always been her favorite season. It was when she’d met him, after all. And no matter how much she wanted to forget, it was also when he’d left her standing alone, her lips still tingling from the kiss she’d thought would change everything.

She thought she’d ignore him after that, keep her distance. But Oscar didn’t stop at a single comment.

A week later, he liked one of her posts—a throwback photo she’d shared of a bookshop in London, the caption reading: Where it all started.

He didn’t say anything this time, but the like was deliberate, she knew it. And she hated how much she noticed. Hated how much she waited for the next small gesture, the next subtle reminder that he was still paying attention.

He sent her another text not long after: You were always good with words. I hope you know that.

She read it twice before locking her phone and tossing it onto the couch. She refused to reply, telling herself she didn’t need his validation. But a part of her couldn’t stop wondering if he meant it, if he really thought she was good, or if this was just another attempt to slip back into her life.

And then, slowly, bit by bit, he started showing up more. A comment here, a text there, nothing overwhelming but enough to remind her he was still there. It was infuriating how patient he was, how careful, as though he was trying to rebuild something fragile. She knew what he was doing. He thought she was letting him in.

But she wasn’t.

Not really.

This wasn’t about him. It never had been.

He inspired her, that much she couldn’t deny. The first book had poured out of her because of him, because of the way he’d left her raw and desperate to make sense of what had happened. And now, as her cursor blinked on a blank page night after night, she couldn’t help but think he might hold the key to unlocking that same fire again.

She wasn’t letting him back in. She was using him.

And the worst part was, she didn’t feel guilty about it.

When he texted her again a week later—Can we talk?—she hesitated only for a moment before replying. Sure.

It was late when they called, and she made no effort to mask the exhaustion in her voice. He, on the other hand, sounded wide awake, his voice warm and familiar in a way that made her chest tighten despite herself.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” he began.

She rolled onto her side, her phone balanced on the edge of her pillow. “What part?”

“All of it,” he admitted. “But mostly about the book. About how it saved you.”

She pressed her lips together, her heart skipping a beat. “What about it?”

“I think... I think you were braver than I’ve ever been,” he said, the words coming out in a rush. “You put it all out there. You didn’t hold anything back. I don’t know if I could ever do that.”

His sincerity threw her off guard. For a moment, she forgot her script, forgot the plan she’d convinced herself she was following. “It wasn’t bravery,” she said quietly. “It was survival.”

“Still,” he said. “You turned something painful into something beautiful. I think that’s incredible.”

Her throat tightened, and she hated the way his words made her feel. She reminded herself why she was doing this, why she was even talking to him at all. This wasn’t about reconnection. It wasn’t about him.

It was about the words she needed to write, the story she needed to tell.

“Thanks,” she said finally, her voice measured.

But even as she said it, she couldn’t shake the nagging doubt creeping in at the edges of her resolve: what if he wasn’t the only one being selfish?

She told herself she was in control. Letting him in was strategic, calculated. She’d let him get just close enough to keep her inspired, nothing more. But the line between “enough” and “too much” blurred faster than she expected.

The first time he asked her to meet him, she hesitated, weighing the potential benefits against the risks. He was in New York for a press event, he explained, and he wanted to see her.

“It doesn’t have to be anything formal,” he said over the phone. “Just dinner. As friends.”

“Friends,” she repeated, testing the word.

He chuckled, the sound warm and disarming. “Or whatever you want to call it. No pressure.”

The logical part of her wanted to say no, to keep the distance between them intact. But the logical part of her wasn’t writing the sequel she desperately needed. Against her better judgment, she agreed.

Dinner was simple—a small restaurant tucked away in a quiet corner of Manhattan. He was waiting for her when she arrived, dressed casually in a plain tee and jeans, looking more like the man who’d taken her sightseeing in London than the global superstar she’d seen on TV.

They talked about nothing and everything: her work, his races, the places he’d been recently. He asked about her next book, and she evaded the question, unwilling to admit that she still hadn’t written a single chapter.

By the time they left, her cheeks ached from smiling, and her stomach hurt—not from the food, but from laughing more than she had in months.

“This was nice,” he said as they stood outside, the cool night air brushing against their skin. “Can we do it again sometime?”

She nodded before she could think it through. “Yeah. Sure.”

And just like that, it became a pattern.

At first, it was sporadic: dinner here, a coffee there. He’d text her when he was in town, and she’d meet him, telling herself it was harmless, just catching up. But then it became frequent. He started flying her out to races, always with some excuse about wanting to show her the world he loved.

The first time she landed in Monaco, she felt like a fraud, a tourist in his glamorous life. But he greeted her with that same easy smile, the one that made her feel like she belonged. They wandered through the narrow streets, stopping at cafes and small boutiques, and for a while, she let herself forget that she was supposed to be using him, not the other way around.

Before long, she found herself back in London, walking streets she’d once thought she’d never see again. He took her to her favorite bookshop, the same one she’d written about in her novel. She felt the weight of his hand at the small of her back as they browsed the shelves, and she told herself it didn’t mean anything.

But it was getting harder to believe her own lies.

She didn’t realise it was happening at first, the way her guard started to slip. It was in the small moments: the way she started to look forward to his texts, the way her heart jumped when she saw his name on her screen. She told herself it was just gratitude, a natural byproduct of the inspiration he’d given her.

But the truth was harder to ignore when she found herself laughing at his jokes, her walls cracking under the warmth of his smile.

One night in Monaco, after a long day exploring the harbour, they sat on the balcony of his apartment, the lights of the city reflecting off the water below. She held a glass of wine in her hand, her legs tucked beneath her as she leaned back in her chair.

“You’re quiet,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Just thinking,” she replied, her gaze fixed on the horizon.

“About what?”

She hesitated, then shrugged. “The book.” It wasn’t a lie, not entirely.

“Still stuck?”

She nodded, and he gave her a thoughtful look before speaking. “You don’t have to push yourself so hard, you know. It’ll come to you when it’s ready.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “That’s not how deadlines work.”

“Maybe not,” he said, his tone light. “But you’re too talented to force it. You’ll figure it out.”

His faith in her was disarming, and she found herself turning to look at him. He was leaning back in his chair, his profile softened by the dim light. For a moment, she let herself forget everything—her plans, her walls, her doubts.

And that was the moment she realised it.

She was catching feelings.

Her breath hitched, and she quickly looked away, her grip tightening around the stem of her glass. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She’d let him in enough to keep her writing, to keep her inspired, but somewhere along the way, she’d let him in too much.

And now, she wasn’t sure she could push him out again.

She was pacing her small apartment in New York when the realisation crashed fully, her hands pulling at her hair, her chest tight with a whirlwind of emotions she couldn’t seem to contain.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, each word punctuated by the sound of her bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor.

She’d been in denial for weeks, convincing herself that she could keep her feelings neatly compartmentalized, that she could use him for inspiration without letting him crack the walls around her heart. But it wasn’t working.

Every laugh, every touch, every moment they shared chipped away at her resolve, and now the truth was staring her in the face, unrelenting and cruel: she’d fallen for him again.

She stopped pacing and leaned against the kitchen counter, gripping the edge so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she hissed, squeezing her eyes shut.

Her phone buzzed on the counter, and her heart jumped, her stomach twisting as she saw his name light up the screen. Oscar.

She ignored it, letting the call go to voicemail, but a minute later, there was a knock at her door.

Her eyes flew open, her breath catching in her throat. No. No, he couldn’t be here. He wasn’t supposed to be here.

But the knock came again, more insistent this time.

“Hey,” his voice called from the other side of the door, muffled but unmistakable. “It’s me.”

Her chest tightened, panic flooding her veins. She couldn’t do this, not now. She crossed the room and yanked the door open, staring at him with wide, frantic eyes. He stood there, his hair slightly tousled from the wind, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket.

“Oscar,” she said, her voice sharp, her panic bubbling over into frustration. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you,” he said, frowning slightly. “I just wrapped up a sponsor meeting and we fly out to Miami tomorrow morning. I called but you didn't answer.”

“Well, maybe there’s a reason for that,” she snapped, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. She slammed the door shut, her heart racing.

From the other side, he sounded baffled. “What did I do wrong?”

She groaned, pressing her forehead against the door. “You exist, Oscar. That’s what you did wrong.”

“What?” he asked, his confusion evident. “Can you at least let me in so we can talk?”

She hesitated, her hand hovering over the doorknob. Then, with a resigned sigh, she opened the door again, glaring at him.

“You want to know what’s wrong?” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “Fine. I’ve caught stupid, ridiculous, impossible feelings for you, okay? And I hate it.”

His brow furrowed, his confusion deepening. “Why is that wrong?”

“Because you hurt me once!” she shouted, her voice cracking. “You left me standing in the middle of London, and I didn’t even see it coming. Do you know how hard it was to put myself back together after that?”

His face fell, guilt washing over his features. “I know I hurt you,” he said softly. “But I thought... I thought you were giving me a chance to fix it.”

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “Fix it? You can’t just fix something like that, Oscar. It doesn’t work that way.”

“I’m trying,” he said, his voice firm but still tinged with vulnerability. “I’m trying to show you that I’m here, that I want to be here. What else can I do?”

Her chest ached, her anger clashing with the part of her that desperately wanted to believe him. “It’s not about what you can do,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost a whisper. “It’s about what you could do. If I let myself fall for you again, you could hurt me. And I don’t think I can survive that a second time.”

He stepped closer, his gaze searching hers. “I won’t hurt you,” he said, his voice steady. “I know I don’t deserve your trust yet, but I swear to you, I’m not going anywhere this time.”

She wanted to believe him. She wanted to let him in, to let herself hope. But the fear was too big, too loud.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Why now?”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said, his eyes locked on hers. “Because I made a mistake, and I’ve been kicking myself for it ever since. Because you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel like I’m more than the guy behind the wheel of a car.”

Her breath caught, tears stinging her eyes. She hated how much his words affected her, how much she wanted to believe them.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered.

He reached out, his hand hovering just above hers. “You don’t have to decide right now. Just... let me try.”

She looked at him, her heart pounding, her mind a storm of doubt and longing. Slowly, she nodded, a single tear slipping down her cheek.

“Okay,” she said softly. “But I’m not promising anything.”

“That’s enough,” he said, his voice filled with quiet determination.

For now, it was enough.

Oscar’s hand hovered in the space between them for a moment before he closed it over hers. His touch was warm, steady, grounding.

She couldn’t hold it back anymore. The walls she’d so carefully constructed cracked under the weight of her emotions, and tears slipped free, spilling down her cheeks.

“I’m so tired of being scared,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“I know,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

He pulled her into his arms, his embrace firm but gentle, and she let herself collapse against him, her tears soaking into the fabric of his coat. He didn’t rush her, didn’t speak. He just held her, his hand stroking her back in slow, soothing circles.

When the sobs finally subsided, leaving her feeling raw and hollow, he eased back just enough to look at her. His face was open, earnest, his eyes searching hers.

“Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Before she could protest, he shrugged off his coat, draping it over the back of the couch, and toed off his shoes. He guided her toward the bedroom, his hand resting lightly on her back.

She let him lead her, too drained to argue. When they reached the bed, he pulled back the covers and gestured for her to climb in.

“You don’t have to stay,” she mumbled, her voice thick with exhaustion.

He gave her a small, lopsided smile. “I’m not going anywhere, remember?”

She crawled under the blankets, her body sinking into the familiar comfort of her mattress. He tucked the covers around her, sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment before shifting to lie beside her, above the blankets.

She closed her eyes, her breathing evening out as the weight of the night caught up with her. She drifted off quickly, her head resting on the pillow, her hand brushing against his where it lay on the bedspread.

Oscar stayed awake, watching her. The faint glow of the city lights filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows across her face.

“You don’t know how lucky I am,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Thank you for giving me a second chance.”

He paused, his gaze tracing the curve of her cheek, the line of her jaw. “I swear I won’t mess it up this time.”

He thought she was asleep, but the words slipped through the hazy edges of her dreams, nestling somewhere deep in her mind.

The following morning, she woke to the golden light of early winter streaming through the window. The first thing she noticed was the warmth of the room, the faint scent of him lingering in the air.

The second thing she noticed was her mind—clearer than it had been in months, humming with ideas.

She sat up slowly, careful not to disturb Oscar, who was still asleep, slouched awkwardly on top of the covers. His head rested on his arm, his face relaxed in a way she hadn’t seen before.

Sliding out of bed, she grabbed her notebook from the bedside table and opened it to a blank page. The words came quickly, flowing from her pen as if they’d been waiting for this moment.

Her next book wouldn’t be about him—not exactly. But the emotions he’d stirred, the hope and fear and vulnerability he’d unearthed, filled every corner of the page.

She glanced over at him as he stirred, his eyes fluttering open.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

“Morning,” she replied, a small smile playing on her lips.

“What are you doing?” he asked, sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck.

She held up the notebook. “Writing.”

He grinned, his expression soft with pride. “Good. I knew you’d get there.”

She didn’t say anything, but as she looked at him, her heart ached in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

For the first time, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, letting him in again wasn’t the worst decision she’d ever made.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby@iamred-iamyellow

[babybearnation]

learning to cook native dishes so the drivers feel home when they're away from traveling so much? Anyone u would like

i chose 4 random drivers that i hadn't written for in this event yet so i hope you enjoy my choices! also its implied that reader isn't the same nationality as each driver so apologies if that doesn't work for you!

gn!reader

esteban ocon:

it wasn't often that you dealt with a homesick esteban, but it broke your heart every time you did because he didn't deserve to look so sad and miserable

after the french grand prix was removed from the f1 calendar, you knew that it'd be hard on him, and sure enough, it was - your kind words and tender touches could only keep the sadness from him for so long

so, using your cooking expertise, you tried out some french recipes until you were sure that you'd perfected the ones you liked most but you weren't 100% sure you'd done well and you wouldn't be until esteban tried it

when esteban next had that sad, homesick look in his eyes, you decided to surprise him with the dinner and dessert dishes you'd been practicing in your own time

to say esteban was shocked would be an understatement - he was so happy and thankful that you'd thought of something so sweet to try and cheer him up with

and when he told you the food tasted almost exactly like his mum's cooking, you couldn't help yourself from crying, relieved that you had helped him, even if just a little bit

pepe marti:

you never liked it when pepe got homesick - his usual bubbly spirit became so supressed and diffused and he often found it hard to speak when he got stuck in a homesick rut

it always made your heart ache and you weren't sure what to do at first until you spoke to a fellow driver's partner about what they did and they answer they gave you made you feel renewed

you knew from your many late night conversations what pepe's favourite spanish foods were so you set about making them for him when he next came over

you weren't super confident in your ability to make the food taste exactly like it would in spain, but you knew it would taste good regardless

pepe didn't even register the food at first until he took the first bite and a familiar myriad of flavours burst to life on his tongue

he crossed the table after that and hugged you so tight, voice shaky as he thanked you over and over for being so sweet, kind and considerate

nyck de vries:

the gaps between formula e races were usually long enough to allow nyck to go home and avoid feeling homesick but every now and then, that tough, stomach-squirmy feeling appeared and it ruined his mood every single time

you hated it - you missed your sweet boyfriend and his bright smile and cheerful humour. you'd do anything to get it back and you meant anything

that's why you knew you had to fix this and during a conversation one night, nyck let slip the name of a dutch dish he'd been craving

you got to work that same night, researching the recipe and checking your pantry for ingredients - you were missing a few items but it was nothing a quick trip to the grocery store couldn't fix

when nyck asked what was for dinner the next night and you said a surprise, he wasn't sure what it was gonna be but when you served up the food and he saw the exact dish he'd been craving, nyck's heart melted

he thanked you and kissed your hand before digging into his food, perking up when it tasted exactly like the food he ate growing up - he really couldn't believe how sweet you were sometimes

sebastian vettel:

sebastian couldn't control how he felt - every single win made him sicker and sicker. he wanted to go home and eat his mum's food, but he couldn't

you saw his mood drop and decided to message his mum, asking her for a recipe that would make sebastian happy - and you got it!

you knew sebastian would come over to your place for dinner every friday night (when he wasn't racing) and so you planned to cook up his mother's recipe for the next friday to pass

when friday came to be, you were so anxious and nervous that it only took one second for sebastian to notice but you refused to tell him the truth and insisted upon eating dinner together

he entered the kitchen and instantly recognised the food, his face morphing into a gentle pout as he realised what you'd done for him

he launched himself at you after that and thanked you a billion times over until you told him to eat before the food got cold - that got him off of you.. for like.. two minutes haha

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[xoxopuffsz]

idk this might be kinda too specific but like imagine the twst mc isn’t a prefect but a magic user aswell and they’re just some normal student in nrc but they keep using magic excessively and their magic pen is like so so dark and their housewarden s/o is like ‘you should stop’ and yhe mc is like ‘no’ so then the housewarden like fucks them for the whole day so they can stop using magic for the time being

—> minors dni. hardcore smut ig ? all chars aged up, all of them being absolutely meanies.

an - lets give this guy an applause 🗣️‼️ I was running out of ideas and you saved me 🫶 I don’t have a bunch of time, so instead I’ll do Leona only since he seems like the right call. Its pretty long, sorry I couldn’t do more </3 ily tho ! buybyeee and enjoy !

———————————————————————

Pent up frustration that didn’t let him sleep, the fact that you look so tired and miserable because of your magic pisses him off. To him, he’s the one thats supposed to take care of you, for some reason he cares about you more than any other. Then he has an idea.

After a long day, Ruggie walks up to you, poking your shoulder with a cheeky grin. “Hey, Y/N! Leona wants you to go to the botanical garden with him.” He tells you, you raise an eyebrow “What for? He always tells me to leave when I go with him.” Ruggie shrugs. “I don’t know, but I think its something serious.” Upon those words, you decided to take care of it.

You leave to the botanical garden, where you find the hidden space Leona always resides in. In which, when you enter, he instantly jumps on you, pressing you onto the ground. “What the hell do you think your doing?” He says harshly. You’re stunned ‘Why is he acting like this?’ You never see him like this. You frown “If this is about the magic thing, forget about it.” You say, turning around, about to crawl away, when you feel him put his hand on your head, instantly pressing your head down onto the grass. “Le-Leona, what are you doing?!” You yell, startled as he covers your mouth. He looks down at you with an angry expression.

“I’m going to fuck some sense into you, thats what.”

——————————————

Your clothes on the floor, his hands spreading your legs open. Everything was so.. exciting.. He had ripped of your clothes and his clothes alongside that. The pool of warmth that was in the pit of your stomach had now traveled down to your legs, Leona’s precum covering your wet lips, tongue lapping over them.

Everything felt so warm, your juices soon covering his mouth, and then helping his rock hard cock slip into you, all your thoughts getting fucked out when his first thrust registers into your body, legs bent onto his shoulders and claws holding your thighs open.

“fuck— how are you- god damn it your so tight” he groans out, long hair stuck onto his sweaty face. He missed this, YOU missed this, the feeling of his hips rutting into yours, the way you’d feel full with his cock, as if you’d just eaten a full course of food. It was too fucking good, too good. Its like the both of you became two wild animals in heat, you couldn’t say much about him though, he was technically one with the way he was acting.

“Leo- Leona- Ngh.. stop it.. I have to.. give me my pen b-“ Your cut of by your own moan, the feeling of your pens cold magical stone pressing onto your clit, bundle of nerves causing your back to arch and a dam to open inside of you as Leona releases his own batch.

Your legs felt like as if they’d been liquified.. a little.. too.. liquified?

“leona..”

“Yeah?”

“You put a spell on me didn’t you?”

“Sure did, bunny.” He responds, kissing your forehead and covering your naked body with his blanket, leaving you to rest inside his room.

All the black ink was gone by the time he came back.

[judesdrabbles]

The Cure (part IV)

As you agree to go home with Vincent after a rough night, things unfold differently than you thought they would.

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3

A/N: this is the last part of the series! I’ll continue to write other one shots / headcanons / series for Vincent and other oc’s, so if you have any suggestions or commissions don’t be afraid to ask! <3

word count: 2.5K

warnings: nsfw!!, yandere, obsessive tendencies, sexual themes, misuse of power position, foul language, afab reader, fingering, overstimulation

The hum of the car engine was a low, soothing backdrop as Vincent drove trough the quiet streets. You stared out the window, watching the city lights blur together. The adrenaline from earlier had faded, leaving you with a hollow ache in your chest. The remainder of the alcohol in your system was wearing off, too. In summary: you felt like shit.

Vincent glanced at you, his knuckles tight on the steering wheel. 'You're quiet.' He says. 'Are you alright?'

You hesitated, biting your lip. 'I don't know if 'alright' is the word I'd use. Tonight was embarrassing. Humiliating.'

His brow furrowed. 'You have nothing to be embarrassed about. What happened tonight was out of your control.'

You shook your head, still staring out the window. 'No, it’s not just that. It’s the whole reason I even went out tonight, you know.' You pause. 'Vincent, I've been stuck in this.. rut. So I thought, why not? Go out, have a few drinks, meet someone, and well, maybe even-..' You stopped yourself, your cheeks heating up as you realized what you were about to say to your own psychiatrist, none the less.

Vincent's eyes flicked to you briefly before returning to the road. 'Maybe even what?' He asked. He knew exactly what. He just wanted to hear you say it.

You exhale sharply. 'To- uh.. get laid. Forget everything for a while.'

The silence that followed was deafening. You glanced at him, unsure of what to expect. His jaw was clenched, and his hands gripped the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white. He didn’t speak for several long moments, and when he finally did, his voice was low, almost strained.

'And, did it work?' he asked. 'Did you.. find what you were looking for?'

You let out a hollow laugh. 'Obviously not. I ended up in a dark alley with a creep instead. Guess that's what I get for being desperate.'

Vincent didn't have a lot to remark. You didn't expect him to.

The rest of the drive was oddly quiet.

'We're here.' Vincent said after a while, parking his car in his driveway and turning off the engine. He led you into his spacious house, a place so pristine and meticulously arranged it almost felt cold. Every detail was flawless: the lines of the furniture, the faint scent of wood polish in the air, the sharp angles. It felt like him- controlled, ordered, and yet, beneath it, something kind-of human, if not a little fractured. 'I'll get you some water. Go sit, I'll be back.'

The hollow ache in your chest tightened up again as you look at him walk to the kitchen.

Why did he care so much?

It was like everything hit you all at once.

He was just your psychiatrist.

Why did he even invite you in the first place? Fight that random man? Why was he quiet whenever you talked about your love life? He always seemed to go out of his way for you. He was a cold and stoic man. Then why does he care so much? He wasn't supposed to.

You sit down on his couch as you stare at the walls. You feel like you could burst open.

And then was that guy, that guy from the alleyway.. Why didn't you do more? Scream louder? Why did you freeze back there?

'Here is your wa-'

'I let it happen. Why did I just let it happen?’ You blurt out.

Vincent stops in his tracks, standing still with two glasses of water in his hands.

'I'm sorry?'

'I let it happen- I..' You stand up. 'I didn't do shit. I could've screamed, I could've kicked. I was frozen. I was useless.. What kind of person just.. lets that happen, Vincent?'

Vincent puts down both of the glasses on a nearby coffee table. Then, he walks over to you.

'Don’t do this. Don’t twist this around and make it about something you did wrong.' He says sternly, his voice piercing trough you. 'You didn't let anything happen. You were scared. That’s normal. That’s human.' He drags a hand through his perfectly combed hair, mussing it in a way that looked unnatural on him. 'You’re not a machine, Y/N. You don’t have to be perfect, to know exactly what to do in any situation.’

'Perfect.' You echoed bitterly. 'That's funny coming from you.' The words tumbled out before you could stop them. Vincent expression shuttered, his lips forming a thin line.

'I know what you're trying to say.' He says, his voice tight but still calm. 'And, yes, you're right. I.. do like to have everything.. perfect. I used to think that was the only way I could keep everything under control.’ He glances around the neat room, the perfectly arranged books in the bookshelves; the tables empty, no dust; everything spotless like no one lives in his house. ‘But it doesn't work like that.'

You feel tears bubbling up. No. Not now.

'Why do you even care so much anyway, Vincent?' You let out. 'You're my psychiatrist, for Christ's sake. I'm not supposed to be here. Were not.. supposed to have this conversation.'

Vincent's eyes flickered with something, and for a moment, you thought he was going to walk away.

'Because I care about you, Y/N.’ He says after a while. ‘Not only during our sessions. Outside of it. More than I'd like to admit. More than I should. And more than is.. appropriate. I wish I could have control over that instead. But I don’t.’

Your breath caught in your throat, his confession hanging in the air. You furrowed your brow and stand up, walking over to him. You look up at him. He looks down at you. And for the first time since you met him all those weeks ago- you see something else in his eyes.

Insecurity.

'Oh..' you let out softly. Everything suddenly made sense.

You let him see you- know you. Week after week, you had laid open your feelings, all your secrets, bare to him. Only for him to unfold. Only for him to hear. And he was always there. Not only during your sessions, but after. When your car broke down, when a shady guy followed you, when you needed him- he was there.

'Y/N.' Vincent whispers softly, as if trying to pry you away from your thoughts. 'Will you let me show you how much I care?'

You were dumbfounded, but on the other hand, relieved. The hollow ache in your chest slowly disappeared on itself.

You nod slowly. ‘Okay.. Show me.'

The words seemed to break something in him. He got rid of the only space left between you, raising one of his hands and resting it softly on top of your cheek. His thumb brushed across your skin, holding you like you were something fragile.

This is what he had wanted. You were so perfect.

His resolve crumbled as he leaned in. His lips were tentative at first, brushing against yours as if testing the waters. But the moment you responded; tilting your head and getting closer, something in him snapped.

He cradled the back of your head as he pressed his lips against you. It was warm. Persistent.

With an undercurrent of desperation.

You kiss him back, clutching on his shirt as his other hand rests on your back, his thumb tracing soft circles against your skin, anchoring you to the moment. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breaths ragged. 'Tell me to stop,' he murmured, his voice hoarse. 'If this isn’t what you want, tell me, and I’ll stop.'

You shake your head. 'Don't stop. Please.'

Something in his eyes lit up when he heard you say 'please'. In that sweet, sweet voice. It was dangerous.

His hands tighten on your waist as he as he pushes you softly on the couch with him. You had never expected him to be this gentle.

But he was.

Only for you.

He kisses you again, and this time deeper, more insistent. With one hand cupping your cheek, he breaks the kiss apart to look at you. He was hovering above you, while you were basically melting into his touch.

'Y/N.' He says softly, as if tasting your name. 'You are so beautiful like this.' His fingers brushed over your cheek; you were getting red, panting softly.

There was so much that you wanted to say, yet you couldn't. Vincent's dark hair was disheveled and looming over you. He had always been handsome. You just never let yourself accept that.

'I don't know what to say, I-..'

'Shh, shh.' He said, pressing a finger to your lips. 'Then say nothing, sweetheart. I'll take care of you.'

His lips find your neck, nipping softly at it as he draws out a moan from your mouth. His hands find the hem of your sweater, slithering under it to grip on your soft flesh. His fingers were so gentle- so skilled. His eyes find its way back to you as his hands go higher, up to reach your breasts. He brushes softly against your nipple, as you let out a whine. Shit- It had been way too long since someone touched you. But no one ever touched you like this. Looking at you like you were literally the last woman on Earth, like there was only you. Time seemed to blur, the world outside fading away until there was only Vincent- the way his body fit against you, the way his whispered assurances made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could let go of the doubts and let yourself be wanted.

'You're so gorgeous when you moan for me,' he says as he gets bolder, pinching one of your nipples between his fingers. He never wanted to let go. Never wanted to get off off you again. What did he do to deserve such a perfect woman, right here, on his couch?

'Vincent- fuck..' You let out when he rolled your nipples between his fingers again. 'Please don't stop- I.. I really.. want you.'

'Hmm?' A smirk on his face appeared. A genuine smirk. 'You're begging already? That's so sweet.' He leans in, bites softly on your earlobe and then whispers: 'I won't stop, okay? I'll make you feel so good. You deserve it.'

One of his hands stayed clasped around your breast, fondling it and teasing it while the other went out from under your sweater to your pants, unzipping them. 'Up.' He just says. You comply, and he takes off your pants until you're left on his couch with only your underwear covering you.

His other, warm hand disappear from your breasts and you're left with a cold feeling. 'Vincent..' You didn't care that you were sounding whiney. You wanted this man.

'Shh, I'll come back. Don't you want me here, too?' He says, smiling as one of his hands cup your heat. You blush; you were already basically dripping, and he didn't even touch you properly yet.

'Mhm..'

'Good.' He presses a soft kiss on your forehead, then lowers himself to line up his head between your thighs. He looks up at you, his dark eyes piercing trough you like knives. While planting soft kisses on your inner thigh, he lets his hand roam to your pussy. He was not pulling your underwear back. Not yet. He finds your clit and start to rub circles trough the fabric.

You moan loudly, feeling embarrassed as you try to cover your mouth He knew exactly what he did.

'No, no, no..' He says, taking your hand away gently while continuing to rub your clit. 'Don't. I want to hear you.'

The wet patch in your underwear only grows as Vincent finally decides to take it off, to stop the teasing. 'May I?' He says as he slips it off, hovering over your heat with his mouth.

You nod quickly. 'Yes, please.. you make me feel so good.'

A low groan escapes Vincent's mouth. 'Darling, you have no idea..' He delves in, starting to suck on your clit while tasting you.

You tasted so divine- How could he go his entire life without seeing you like this, melting under his touch, moaning under him? Where were you all this time? Oh, he'll make sure to make up for the lost time. It's the least he could do for you.

His mouth latched onto your clit. It made you tense, pleasure building up as one of his fingers start to tease your wet slit. He ate you out like you would expect him to: methodically, rhythmically. All the while keeping eye contact. Staring at you with dark, lust-filled eyes.

Two of his fingers push past your slit as your walls clench around it. You felt so warm- so good. Whenever his tongue wasn't lapping up your juices, he would repeat quiet praises to you.

'You are doing so good for me, sweetheart. You're so beautiful. You'll cum for me, hm?'

And then you felt it approaching, rapidly, like a dam breaking.

'Vincent- I'm gonna cum..-'

'Cum for me, sweetheart.'

You pant as your walls clench around his fingers. You cum all around them as Vincent continues to eat you out to prolong your orgasm. It was nothing like you had ever felt, and when you came down from the high, you felt your muscles relaxing and you let out a long sigh.

Vincent kisses your inner thigh before licking off your juices from his fingers, savoring the taste. He then sits down next to you on the couch, his hands wrapping around your waist, tilting you up to sit on his lap. Your wet cunt stained his perfectly neat pants, but he didn't mind. Not if it was you.

'I could get used to this.' You say after a while as he runs his fingers trough your hair. You hesitate, but then you lay down on his chest, your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

'Mmm. You better.' He says, his voice low. He had you. Finally. Right where he wanted. In his arms. In his home. Together. He kisses the crown of your head.

'Never knew my stoic doctor would be such a good kisser. On both lips.' You tease softly, feeling a certain something grow in his pants.

'Oh, yeah?' He gently tilts your chin towards him. 'Well, there are more things I'm surprisingly good at. Let me show you, hm?'

He wasn’t done with you yet; far from it. He was only done when you were a limp mess on his couch, and then he would continue to finger fuck you while you whimpered desperately on his lap. He wanted you to think of him, and only him, nothing and no one else.

‘Ah, hush, sweetheart. You can take more.’

[charliehoennam]

(his) birthday girl

a/n: i know this is super late but i really wanted to do something sweet for you on your b-day. happy birthday, babes! @sizzlingcloudmentality

pairing: david loki x f!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, language, implied family conflict

SHARING IS CARING, REBLOG IF YOU LIKE IT

The growing wetness building between your thighs stirs you. Arousal arches your spine and spreads your legs before you can even manage to open your eyes.  

Behind the curtains, you take quick notice of the dark sky outside and assume it must be early morning. You can't be sure, especially since you can't even concentrate on anything else.  

The covers feel too hot against your burning skin. You push them back to reveal your boyfriend's face between your legs, the cause of your pleasant awakening.  

David smirks proudly for having woken you up. It was a hard decision to make, but he wanted to make sure your special day started off right.  

Taking in your unique and intoxicating scent, he moans lapping at your puffy lips. His tongue slides into your sopping entrance, delving hungrily to gather every drop of your sweet nectar.  

The feeling of his slipping tongue has your back arching off the mattress and toes curling against his broad back.  

He watches you squirm and push your t-shirt up, admiring your breasts as your hands grope and knead at them. His hands squeeze at the thighs wrapped around his head as he listens to your whimpers echoing in the silence of your bedroom.  

He is relentless with the movement of his head, following your grinding hips. His nose purposely nudges your hardened bundle of nerves as he relishes in your scent.  

You whisper his name and it's enough to have him rutting his throbbing cock against the mattress, so desperate for friction.  

He slowly plunges a finger into your wetness, pushing and pulling in and out of you to work you even closer to the edge, adding another one and another one until he's got at least three in your sobbing pussy.  

The ungodly squelching echoes like a symphony to his ears. You almost feel embarrassed about how wet you are until you hear him say how much he adores getting you so wet, that the sheets will have to be changed, and the mattress maybe even flipped.  

It's the ultimate trophy for him. And although he cannot display it, he'll be smirking proudly the whole day to himself when he remembers.  

Your walls tighten around his fingers, gushing out one orgasm after another. And despite your trembling body and overstimulated pussy, he shifts to kneel and sit on the back of his heels.  

"You know what I want. Be good and soak the sheets, baby. I'll give you what you want."  

Your knuckles turn white as they ball into the sheets. His fingers pump incessantly as David bares his teeth, fully dedicated to making you squirt.  

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, only to be released with a loud moan that you're almost sure could wake up your neighbors.  

"Atta girl. So fucking messy for me huh? Just get so wet for me? Got this pussy crying for my dick?" 

He chuckles urging every drop out of you.  

"God, I fucking love this pussy" he pants quickly shoving his boxers down.  

You lay a panting wet mess unable to focus on his words until his cock eases into your cunt.  

"Take it easy, baby. Breathe," he reminds you with a hand on your cheek. "Want me to stop?" 

"F-fuck no," you whimper bringing a shit eating grin to his face. 

"This what you want?" He bottoms out, grinding his hairy groin against your delicate nub.  

You squeeze around him and gasp at the feeling, nodding your head quickly.  

"It's all yours, baby" he breathes heavily against your collarbone. "It's your birthday, 'member?"  

In fairness, you can't even remember your own name right now. All you can do is hold the backs of your knees to let him hold himself up.  

His cock drags in and out of you with a painstaking slow pace. It soothes you from the overstimulation, but it has him struggling to contain himself.  

As the faint warm hues of sunlight begin to trickle in through the window, his lips capture yours in a ravenous kiss. You swallow his moan as your nails dig into his back, leaving red scratches on their way down to squeeze his ass, desperately pulling at his hips to get him as deep as you possibly can take him. 

"Fuck me, Dave. Fill me up" you plead, and he doesn't waste a second.  

It is your birthday and who is he to deny you of anything on your special day? Given the all-clear, his hips begin hammering against yours. Pants, wet slapping skin and the thudding headboard are all you can hear.  

The ecstasy burns through your veins, building that familiar overwhelming orgasm again until your juices squirt out as your body convulses to the pleasure, forcing his cock out for a moment. 

David praises you endlessly as he pushes himself in again, feelings every ridge of your walls tightening around his throbbing dick. His hands find yours and shoves them above your head, fingers intertwining with yours as you taste yourself on his lips again.  

He groans and growls into your hungry mouth, filling the depth of your core with his hot load. Your legs lock around his hips to hold him in place.  

He'd never leave if he had it his way, but there's a certain warmth that blooms in his chest every time you hug him with your legs like this. You're unwilling to let him go, and it fills him with the love he had only ever desired before.  

Never belonging anywhere, you claim him as yours and he accepts it happily.  

His kiss goes from hungry and sloppy to controlled tenderness. Your fingers thread through his hair, cradling the nape of his neck as he pulls his head up.  

"Happy birthday, baby." 

You laugh together, sharing a tender embrace in each other's arms as he tiredly rests his head in the crook of your neck.  

You lay in bed for a while, commenting on each other's performance and enjoying your post-sex glow, cuddling each other until the alarm clock on your phone buzzes, unfortunately reminding you that you still have to work today. 

While David grabs fresh linens from the closet, you clean up and gather the wet sheets which David takes to the laundry bin.  

Your routine goes as always.  

You share a quick shower that ends up with a quickie. David makes the coffee and breakfast as you get ready for work. He joins you in the bathroom for his morning shave and to gel his hair. You get dressed in your bedroom as you chat about the day's events before sharing breakfast together.  

This is his favorite part of the day; spending these little moments with you.  

You scrubbing that one spot on his back that he can't reach. Helping him shave around his sideburns, so one isn't cut higher than the other. Plucking the few hairs between his eyebrows because he can never get the hairs out on the first or second tugs without pinching his skin. Making you laugh while you brush your teeth. Catching himself staring at you while you do your makeup.  

These are the moments he craved when he was younger, growing up alone.  

It's not just about loving and being loved. It's the companionship. It's the presence and looking forward to that presence, trusting you to be there. You care for him in a way no one ever really has; in a way he never knew someone could and, for that, he’s learned to deposit the utmost trust in you.    

Although it is your birthday, no one is more thankful for your existence than David is.    

He proves this by making sure, weeks in advanced, to shave a couple hours from his shift. He makes sure your favorite flowers are ready to be delivered at your workplace and large enough to make everyone green with envy. He’ll try to take you out for lunch if his schedule allows it. But even if it doesn’t, you can bet he’ll be waiting out in the parking lot to take you out to dinner at your favorite restaurant.    

He goes out of his way to make your one and only day extra special and he can only prat that the only thing that ends up putting a damper on your special day doesn’t interfere as it has in the past: your family.  

They somehow always manage to make it about themselves and end your day on a sour note. 

This year was going to be different. David has his heart set on not letting anyone ruin your special day.  

Your birthday happened to land on a Friday and David couldn’t pass the opportunity up to make the ultimate surprise.   

He shows up as you are clocking out for the weekend and waits by his state issued car anxiously fidgeting with a blindfold in hand.    

“Whatcha got there?” you chuckle smiling at him.  

The way you light up at the sight of him doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend.    

“I got a surprise for you.”    

You’re more than thrilled at the surprise, and you figure he’d be taking you to your new favorite restaurant.  

What you aren’t expected is to be sat in the car for nearly an hour later.  

Your shared home wasn’t far from work, and neither was the new restaurant, so by now, you’ve come to the conclusion that neither of those places are your destination.   

Although you trust David more than anyone in the world, the turns and potholes that you use to try and map out your location aren’t enough to stop the curiosity and excitement that bubble in your stomach.    

Questioning him is no use since he doesn’t budge a bit. All he tells you is that you’ll see when you get there, that you’ll love the surprise he has in store or that you’re almost there.    

You have no other choice but to squirm anxiously in the passenger seat, trying to focus on the music he had put on to keep you entertained.    

Your excitement radiates from your seat, pulling a chuckle and a warm smile from your boyfriend when you feel the car roll to a stop over crackling gravel. 

"Are we here?! Can I take this off now?"  

"We are here, yeah. Go ahead, sweetheart."  

As your hands quickly rise to remove your blindfold, David smirks leaning against the car door with his thumb knuckle between his teeth waiting excitedly to see how you react to his surprise.  

You freeze speechless as your vision adjust to the sight beyond the windshield.  

A cozy wooden cabin sits peacefully perched among a sea of tall autumn-colored trees. Just behind it lies a dark lake as its lapping ripples echo faintly, mirroring the shades of warm dusk on its surface.  

"I know your birthday is always a little tough to get through because of your family. I figured we could just get away for a couple days, so we don't give them an opportunity to ruin it."  

Your heart swells with the warmth of a thousand suns as you unbuckle your seatbelt to quickly climb out of the car. David follows you out, eyes blinking hard.  

“D-do you like it?” 

“Are you kidding me? I fucking love it!” you squeal hugging him tightly. “Wait, what about clothes? I didn’t bring any.” 

“I packed us a bag. Not that we’re gonna much of it.” 

[khrollos]

ミღ stuck in the middle

description. the only thing better than one cock inside of you is ... well, two.

pairing. g. satoru x reader x g. suguru tags. smut (18+), threesome, oral (m receiving), degrading (reader is called slut *lovingly*), spanking, eiffel towering :3 w/c. 620+ just a little drabble >_<

no way in hell you're doing this. no fucking way. how you managed to end up with your thighs parted, knees digging into your best friend's mattress with your other best friend's cock staring at you right in the face is still a mystery to you.

then again, sometimes ignorance is a bliss, and you'd consider yourself exceptionally happy with anything as long as satoru sticks it in.

you're on all fours, gripping the white linen sheets as the blond lines up his fat tip with your dripping cunt. suguru's own bulbous head is drifting in front of you until he nudges it past your lips and into your opened mouth.

"atta girl ..." suguru coos when you suck him right in. "she looks so pretty, huh satoru?" he calls out to his friend who is staring down at where his cock slides between your slick folds.

"perfect fuckin' pussy," he breaths out, and fuck, he can quite literally see your pussy clenching around nothing as you ache for something, anything.

"s-satoru," you whine when suguru pulls out your mouth to give you a second to breathe before thrusting back in. his cock hits the back of your throat with such force that your body lurches backward, ass rutting against satoru's pelvis.

"aw," suguru murmurs condescendingly, and the way your cheeks burn is nothing compared to the way your cunt pleads for satoru's cock. "is our little slut gettin' needy?"

satoru chuckles darkly, and you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head when his hand cracks down on your ass, moaning around suguru's lenght. "dirty girl ... you liked that, huh?"

"gonna give our cute girl what she wants?" suguru eggs his friend on, placing one hand on the crown of your head to force you down his length even further.

you can practically hear the smirk on his lips when satoru groans, sinking his thick length into in one go, his harsh thrust in sync with suguru's so your body is being pushed in opposite directions at the same time.

your whole damn body is successfully stuffed, and it's a sparing thought that you might not be able to move a single muscle after they're done with you. satoru has just started to move, pulling his dick out halfway before slamming back into you with equal force, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room.

"didn't know you had it in you ... " suguru says as he continues to snap his cock through your swollen lips. "taking two cocks at once ..."

"'course she can do it," satoruo grunts out, digging his hands into your flesh as he starts to pull your hips into his with every thrust, using you like a poor little rag doll. "she's our slut remember?"

suguru chuckles deep and low, and the sound is so sexy that for a second, you forge that his cock is shoved down your throat. "you likin' this?" he asks innocently, looking down at you. "oh wait, forgot you can't speak," he says with a laugh, and you should feel humiliated but you don't.

you should feel embarrassed—having two cocks ram into you from both sides. you should feel some sort of shame for the way drool and precum dribbles down your chin, for the way that your pussy is letting out such filthy fucking noises that you can hear it squelching over the ringing in your ears.

you should feel humiliated but of course ... you don't. after all, who would turn down the offer to get absolutely fucked by their two hot best friends? your limbs are about to give out, but you don't care—not with the white hot orgasm that might just be the best of your life bubbling up in your belly.

[thesacrificialdove]

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒 gn!dol char. kylar , pure & corrupt sydney , avery — ko-fi | patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms

—📜" DoL characters finding out about your taboo kinks. they help you with getting off too. it ends up beocming more for them than for you. # # requested

#𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐑. . . ★ they do not care for what you're into. it's like they were made for you. when they learned that you were very much into cnc, they made sure to surprise your nights with coming into your bedroom and forcing your legs open. they wanna hear you scream and tell them to stop without actually saying your safe word. they're addicted to the way you scream. maybe just a bit too addicted. as you writhe on the bed, screaming and crying, they're tasting your tears on their tongue. your pleads are swallowed in their throat. your kicks and punches are safely bruised into their arms as a remembrance. they fucking love using you like this. you won't ever say no to them, they know that. though you cry out, they continue to use you like you wanted to be. the feeling is euphoric. you're theirs. you're theirs. you're just theirs forever.

#𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐘𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐘. . . ★ no matter what happens, they forgive you. at first, they don't even understand what you're asking of them. you're into... beastiality? that's confusing. you take the time to explain it to them, explaining how much you love fantasizing about a dog rutting into you and knotting you full of their cum. their cheeks flood with their blood. that's... embarassing! that should be against religion. they try to be understanding. maybe it's some sort of coping mechanism you have? the lord will forgive you either way! but the can't help but imagine that scenario actually playing out. their dad has some toys that he said resembles dogs—... would you like that? they try not to think about the way you would look stuck on a knotted dildo, begging to be filled with pups as you roll your tongue like a whore in front of him. shit. fuck. these thoughts... so fucking sinful~ they need to repent immediately

#𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐔𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐘𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐘. . . ★ you confess your deepest darkest desire to them. this trust is sacred. they salivate as you confess to them how much you love being fucked like an animal. you're so fucking disgusting. you're an absolute whore for dog cock and that turns them on so much. as a surprise, they find a stray dog that wandered into the temple one day. you don't think of anything about it at first, of course. why would you? you say that it's a fantasy! but when they pull you into the prayer room and the walls are clouded with incense, the dog wanders in with the both of you. their eyes go manic as they watch you get used by the animal without remorse. they hold you in their lap and watch you get railed on the dirty stray. such a dirty little thing. their eyes are fixated on you and they don't want to let go of this sight. they want to stay here forever with you. forever will you be together. as one.

#𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘. . . ★ for as long as they knew you, you were the sweet innocent thing they found picking up lichen for a school project. their surprise is unmatched when they find you willingly whoring your body out while intoxicated. there’s shame coursing to their name, finding their loveliest eye candy being passed around like a blunt to the homeless. you’re briefly pulled to your knees and away from these dirty men. in your delirium, you don’t register what was happening to you at that moment. but the day after when you’re clearheaded—though loopy, for sure—the embarrassment floods you head to toe. you try to reason with him, why the hell you decided to get yourself that high just to be passed around like a toy. and it was your decision, you made that clear to him so that he wouldn’t do anything irresponsible and order a hit on those poor horny souls. it’s just… something you want. something you crave. to be taken with abandon and your senses jumbled the next morning. they don’t understand this immediately. there’s disgust first, then curiosity. lastly, indulgence. they conclude that if your finances were well taken care of, then this too shall be spoiled. they don't hesitate to bring you to an exclusive event they host, inviting all of their friends to come fuck you while your head is stuff full of drugs. some of those drugs purely to increase sexual appetite. you don't need anyone else anymore. you just need avery forevermore.

UPDATE ! 📢 @wiltedpoison @elloredef

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