#he would’ve been devoured from the inside

[summer-oil]

i don’t have any evidence for this like at all but i just Really have this feeling that if suguru had stayed at jujutsu high instead of defecting his curses would’ve eaten him alive

[millermouth]

Part III

Summary: After an accidental Freudian slip in bed with your husband, you and Joel agree to take a step back. Boundaries are drawn, lines are reinforced—but the damage is done, and even the strongest of willpower can't keep you apart.

|| smut MDNI 18+, little bit of angst there too, starting to not really be able to say this isn't cheating anymore yikes, dirty talk, pinv, riding, breeding kink, no outbreak, little bit of action with Tommy (f!receiving oral) Joel Miller is starting to catch feeeeelingssss ruh roh || notes: oh boy oh boy did I get secondhand embarrassment from this one. I think my eyes might start bleeding if I try rereading this again so plz lmk of any errors

Tommy had always been good to you. Patient, eager to please. He took his time, hands kneading the soft skin of your thighs, mouth dragging slow, open-mouthed kisses along your inner leg like he was savoring you. Like he loved you. And he did. Maybe that was the problem.

Because love wasn’t the same thing as knowing.

He wanted you to feel good, of course he did—but there was something hesitant about it, something careful. Like he was trying to do right by you instead of wreck you. Like he was holding back.

His tongue traced a path through your folds, licking and eating and suckling everywhere except where you needed him most. You squirmed, hips pushing up into his mouth, searching for that right spot, just a little higher, to the left…

You hummed when his nose nudged your clit, eyes fluttering shut, and what you didn’t mean to do was picture another man with the last name Miller instead of the one between your legs.

But you did.

And you didn’t picture patience. You pictured hunger.

Joel had devoured you, consumed you like he’d been starved for it, like he would’ve died if he didn’t get his mouth on you, inside you. He hadn’t wasted a second searching—he knew exactly where to touch, exactly how to work you open, like he’d memorized your body before he even had his hands on it. And God, those hands. The way they parted your thighs like the sea, fingers digging deep like they belonged there, like they were meant to bruise.

And his filthy, sinful mouth—

That voice, rough and low as he’d murmured against your soaked skin, coaxing you through every little whimper and gasp, urging you to let go, just one more, pretty girl, gimme another. You’d come on his tongue again and again until you could barely breathe, until you were trembling, until he finally, finally let you rest.

Tommy just didn’t do things like that. 

Tommy felt like warmth, like comfort, like the hands of a man who wanted to love you—but not the hands of a man who understood you.

And maybe that was why you didn’t even hear yourself when it slipped out–

“Joel–”

And then there was silence.

Thick and suffocating, pressing against your ears, your chest, your ribs.

Tommy had stopped. You barely registered it at first—so lost in your own head, in the whiplash of pleasure and horror—until you felt the absence of his mouth, the cool air licking over your slick skin. He had frozen in place, his breath still warm against your thigh, but he wasn’t moving.

And then, slowly, achingly, he sat back.

You didn’t want to look at him.

Didn’t want to see the way his brow furrowed, his mouth parted like he was going to say something but didn’t quite know how.

Didn’t want to see the way his hands flexed against your legs before he let go of you completely and sat back on the pillows beside you.

The space between you suddenly felt massive.

“Oh, God,” you croaked, your stomach bottoming out. “Oh, Tommy, I didn’t—I didn’t mean to—”

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.

You scrambled, heat clawing up your throat, shame like a hand around your neck. “It was just—my head was all over the place, I wasn’t thinking, I—I swear I didn’t mean it, Tommy, I—”

“Stop.”

It wasn’t angry. If it was, maybe it would’ve been easier. Maybe you could’ve handled that.

But it was quiet. Resigned.

Tommy exhaled, dragging a hand down his face before finally meeting your eyes. You wished he hadn’t.

Because there it was. Not fury. Not disgust. Hurt. Disappointment.

“I, uh…” He let out a small breath that almost sounded like a laugh. Like he couldn’t believe it. “I guess I should’ve seen this comin’.”

Your pulse stuttered. “Tommy, no—”

He shook his head, lifting a hand, stopping you again. “I knew this wasn’t gonna be easy,” he murmured, voice low, rough. “Knew feelings could get mixed up. Thought we could have rules and make it simple.” A humorless chuckle, a shake of his head. “Jesus.”

You swallowed thickly, throat raw. “I love you, Tommy.”

He looked at you, really looked at you, and something inside of him cracked. He nodded, reaching for you, letting you lay your head on his chest. “I know.” But when you looked up, his jaw tightened, his fingers curling into loose fists. “I just—I see the way you two are lately.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and his voice softened. “You and Joel.”

Your breath caught.

He scrubbed a hand over his mouth, his shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. “There’s just…this energy between you. Always has been, I guess, but now…” He huffed out another short, mirthless laugh, shaking his head again. “Shit, I don’t even think you two see it. Not fully.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

Maybe you had seen it. Felt it. Maybe you’d been feeling it since the very first time, but you had locked it up, shoved it down, willed it away because you loved Tommy. Because you had made a choice.

Hadn’t you?

Tommy sighed, rubbing at his temple. “I just wanted a family with you.” His voice was thick, hoarse, like he was forcing the words through gravel. “More than anything.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I still do.”

You blinked hard, nodding, hands trembling as you reached for him. “And we will, Tommy, we—”

The arm he had around you stiffened, fingers twitching as you touched him. 

“That’s the thing, though,” he murmured, voice quieter now. “We’re sittin’ here, prayin’ for somethin’ to take, prayin’ for this baby—and when I picture it…” He trailed off, shaking his head, letting out a breath that sounded defeated.

Your stomach twisted. “Tommy.”

He blinked down, eyes focused on the blankets. “When I picture it,” he repeated, slower this time, like he was barely holding himself together, “I dunno if I see me anymore.”

It felt like a gut punch.

His jaw flexed, something breaking in his voice. “I knew it might get messy with Joel. Knew we might have to separate things in our heads, that you’d be spendin’ time with him, that it’d be—” His breath shuddered. “That it’d be him touchin’ you, not me.” His Adam’s apple bobbed, his fingers tightening. “I thought I could let it slide if it made you happy.”

Tommy’s words still hung heavy in the air, thick as smoke, curling in the space between you.

But you wouldn’t let them settle. Because he was wrong.

You let out a slow breath against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath your cheek, the familiar warmth of him. Then, with purpose, you pushed yourself up, sitting back on your heels, straddling his lap. Your hands pressed against his bare skin, grounding you both as you looked down at him.

“Listen to me.” Your voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. His eyes flicked up, wary but locked onto yours. “If this works—if we have this baby—that’s ours, Tommy. Yours and mine.” You shook your head, fingers tightening slightly where they rested against him. “Not Joel’s. Ours.”

His jaw tensed, something flickering behind his eyes. You didn’t let him look away.

“I love you,” you continued, voice unwavering. “I chose you. I choose you.” You swallowed, feeling the weight of every word. “Yeah, it’s gonna be weird at first, but this—this is about us, not him.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, his fingers twitching against your thighs. “I just…” He hesitated, looking up at you, searching. “I don’t wanna lose you.”

“You’re not,” you said instantly. “You won’t.”

His hands slid up, gripping your hips now, solid and warm, like he needed to feel you, to believe you. His brow furrowed, lips parting slightly, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, slowly, his grip tightened.

You felt the shift in him before you saw it. The way his body responded to yours, the way his fingers curled into your skin, grounding himself in you.

His eyes darkened just slightly, flickering down to your lips before dragging back up, searching your face.

You leaned in first.

The kiss wasn’t gentle, it was deep, tender, his breath hot against your mouth as he surged up, pulling you down, swallowing the last remnants of doubt between you. His hands traveled, skimming up your back, one sliding into your hair, the other gripping your waist like he needed to feel every inch of you, needed to remember.

A soft sound slipped from your throat as you shifted against him, the hard press of his body undeniable beneath you. The heat between you burned away the uncertainty, leaving only this.

His tongue slid against yours, slow and deliberate, as if reclaiming you, as if reminding you—you were his.

His grip tightened. Then, with a rumbling deep in his chest, he flipped you onto your back.

And for a second—just a split second—your mind flickered back to the last time someone had pinned you down like this.

You shoved the thought away, sealing yourself in this moment. In him.

Because you had made your choice.

Hadn’t you?

The tile shop smelled of fresh-cut stone, sawdust clinging faintly to the air beneath the sharp scent of industrial cleaner as you browsed the samples. 

Joel walked beside you, giving you advice on the best materials for the bathroom remodel. He fit in here, comfortable among the stacks of flooring samples, the thick catalogs of material swatches, the talk of grout and durability. 

When you reached the section of colorful tiles to pick from, he grabbed a copy of Home Building magazine from a nearby shelf in his hands, flipping through it absently as he leaned a hip against the counter of the showroom.

“So, you gonna tell me why Tommy was bitin’ my head off yesterday on a job?” His voice was rough but casual, like he wasn’t too concerned.

You blinked, stalling mid-step by the tile wall. “Huh?”

Joel looked up at you, gaze darkening like he thought you were playing dumb. “Was layin’ into me about every little thing. Usually, I can take one or two from ‘im—ya know, messin’ around, shootin’ the shit.” He flipped another page, shaking his head. “But this was different. Something got under his skin.” Then, content, he shut the catalog, setting it down on the counter and tilting his head.

Your stomach twisted. You dropped your gaze, fingers grazing over the veins in a slab of white marble, tracing the golden and brown threads weaving through the cool surface. The crisp, clean lines blurred as your thoughts ran too fast, searching for a way to frame this—if there even was one.

Joel called your name, and you hesitated before looking at him, only to drop your gaze just as fast, settling on his boots instead of his face.

“What’s goin’ on?” His voice came softer this time, a low murmur. He stepped toward you, his presence shifting the air around you, pulling tighter.

“I, uh…” Your lips pressed into a thin line. The words felt jagged in your throat, difficult to shape. “I may have screwed up.”

Joel’s brows pulled together. “Oh?”

“The other night, Tommy and I…we were…” You flicked your eyes to his, then around to check your surroundings before lowering your voice. “Ya know.”

Joel gave a slow nod, urging you to continue.

“And at one point… I was just trying to get myself there, ya know, I was close but couldn’t quite manage to…” You sucked in a deep breath, your skin prickling with heat. “I said your name.”

His frown deepened, forehead creasing, but he didn’t say anything—didn’t seem to fully understand yet.

You swallowed, heart drumming hard. “I said your name, Joel. Instead of his. Instead of my husband’s.”

Realization crawled over his face, slow, dawning. A flush crept along the tips of his ears, darkening the already pink hue to his skin.

“Oh, shit.”

“Oh shit is right,” you muttered, turning back to the tiles, though the intricate veins of marble couldn’t hold your focus.

Joel exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “This has gone too far,” he mumbled. “We can’t keep… this is too messy.”

You nodded, though it barely felt like agreement when there was a lump growing in your throat, thick and suffocating.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

The air outside was crisp, the sun starting to dip just enough to soften the light when you finished up with the tiles. You adjusted the weight of samples in your arms, stepping toward Joel’s truck.

Joel walked beside you, quiet. He’d been quiet ever since you left the showroom, brooding and only giving answers when needed, only talking to the salesman about the projects he was working on. 

You grabbed the handle of the passenger door to open it—

But before you could, his hand shot out, slamming it shut again.

You startled, jerking slightly as his palm flattened firm against the metal. The space between you shrank, the air suddenly heavier as you turned to face him.

Your pulse skipped. “Joel?”

He didn’t look at you right away. Just kept his hand there, his jaw tight, something unreadable pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Then, after a moment, he swallowed, inhaled deep through his nose, and said, “I’m only gonna say this once.”

Your stomach tightened.

Joel turned his head just slightly, gaze flicking to you beneath furrowed brows. His voice was low, measured, but careful. So careful. It didn’t match the weight of his words.

“And then never again,” he murmured. “You hear me?”

You nodded, barely breathing anymore.

Joel inhaled again, like he was bracing himself. Then, finally, “My head’s all messed up over this,” he admitted, voice low, gravel-rough. “I ain’t been right since the first time. Since you.”

Your stomach clenched. Joel exhaled sharply, dragging a hand over his mouth, shaking his head slightly like he couldn’t believe he was about to say this. “Tried to put it away, pretend it don’t mean anythin’. Tried to tell myself it’s just sex, just a favor, just somethin’ to get you and Tommy what you want—”

He huffed a short, bitter laugh, gaze flicking away for a second before finding yours again.

“But it ain’t just that. Not for me.”

Heat bloomed beneath your skin, thick and suffocating.

Joel’s fingers flexed against the truck door. His jaw tensed. “I ain’t been with anyone else since this started.” He let the words settle, let them sink in. “Haven’t even wanted to.”

Your lips parted, but nothing came out.

He shook his head again, his voice getting rougher, rawer, the truth scraping its way out of him. “And now I can’t stop thinkin’ about you. Can’t stop wonderin’ how you’re gonna sound, how you’re gonna feel every time I close my damn eyes. Can’t stop picturin’ you in my bed.” His breath shuddered. “I can’t even fuckin’ touch myself without seein’ you.”

You felt something tighten low in your stomach, sharp and unbearable.

His voice dipped, low and ragged. “And I—” He stopped himself, swallowing thickly before murmuring, almost like a confession, “I like it too much to want to stop. But we have to.”

Your chest rose and fell faster, your pulse hammering as your fingers twitched toward him. The storm of feelings in your head was screaming at you to stop reaching out to touch him. You couldn’t help it. Your body moved, closed in, your eyes dragging over his face before landing on his lips.

How could you feel like this?

How could you want two men at once? How could you look Tommy in the eyes, tell him you loved him, tell him you chose him, and then stand here now—your body tilting toward Joel like you didn’t have a choice in the matter? But the truth was, you had never chosen this. You had never asked for this. It had crept up on you in stolen moments, in the space between duty and desire, in the unspoken, in the way Joel knew you without even trying.

He was so close. So warm.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? You had always loved Tommy differently. Steady, safe, the warmth of something real and tangible, the kind of love that built a future. But Joel? Joel was something else entirely. He was unshakable—a presence that settled deep in your bones, that lived in the quiet parts of you, the places you had never let anyone else see. He was the ache in your stomach when his voice dropped too low, the heat in your chest when he looked at you just a second too long, the part of you that had been unraveling since the first night his hands had been on you.

The lines between them were blurred now, bleeding into one another, and you were standing in the middle of it, grasping at both of them, unsure which one would steady you first.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. He inhaled sharply, his chest rising beneath your palm, the warmth of him soaking into your skin like he belonged there.

And then, just as you began closing the distance between you, Joel pulled away.

His hand shot up, covering yours, pressing it firmly against his chest for just a second before peeling it away.

His head shook once. “No,” he said, rough. “We can’t.”

Your stomach dropped. His gaze met yours, full of something aching and raw, but his next words were firm.

“I won’t do that to Tommy. We said we wouldn’t let it get messy.”

Your throat bobbed, “Joel…”

He shook his head again, jaw tight as he released you, stepping back like he had to. Like if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to. A humorless huff of breath left his mouth before he said, “Already broke two rules, didn’t we?”

And when you didn’t reply, he shook his head and opened your door, “Get in the truck.”

The drive back was quiet.

Not the easy kind, not the peaceful kind—it was the kind that sat heavy between you, thick and charged, the kind where every breath felt too loud, where neither of you dared to fill the silence because what the hell was there even left to say?

Joel kept his hands on the wheel, his fingers flexing against the worn leather grip, his gaze fixed on the road like if he looked at you for even a second too long, he might crack.

You kept your hands in your lap, fidgeting and trying to ignore the way your skin still burned where he had touched you—where he had stopped touching you.

The truck rumbled as he pulled up in front of your house, tires crunching over gravel. He shifted into park but didn’t kill the engine. Didn’t move.

You turned to him, clearing your throat, “Next week, for your birthday–”

Joel’s knuckles flexed against the steering wheel, “What about it–”

“Tommy and I want to have you over,” you said simply. “I’m cookin’ steaks. There’ll be cake and the whole nine.”

His head turned slightly, brow furrowing. “What? Why?”

“I want—” You stopped yourself, pulse skipping before you corrected, “We want to. It’s just dinner, Joel. If not for me, for him. For Sarah. Just a regular family dinner.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “You remember what happened the last time you hosted one of them?”

His lips twitched at the corners, and for the first time since the tile shop, the tension cracked, just a little.

Your shoulders sagged slightly in relief, and for a second, things felt normal again. But then his gaze found yours. And just like that, the moment was gone.

For a second, you thought he might refuse. That he’d tell you it was a bad idea, that it was too much, that after everything that had happened, sitting at the same dinner table with you would be the last thing he wanted.

But he didn’t. Instead, he let out a slow breath, eyes flicking away like he was trying to find an argument and coming up empty.

Finally, he gave a small nod. “Alright.”

Your chest loosened. “Good. Be here at six.”

You reached for the handle, pushing the door open, stepping out into the cool evening air. The truck door creaked as you turned back, gripping the edge of it for just a second longer than necessary.

Joel wasn’t watching you, just staring forward at your house, the glow of golden hour drenching everything in a deep orange.

“And Joel?” 

His eyes turned to see you, like he had just pulled himself from a deep thought, “...Hm?”

Your lips parted, and you took a slow breath, steadying yourself, forcing your tone to be calm, deliberate, heavier than anything else you could’ve said.

“Fuck those rules.”

You slammed the door shut before he could say another word.

The dinner went fine.

Really, it did.

Sure, there was tension, but it stayed beneath the surface, stitched up neatly between polite smiles and easy conversation. You played your part well—a good wife, a good sister-in-law, a good aunt to Sarah.

She didn’t need to know how messy things had gotten, how tangled things had become between the most important people in her life. She laughed when you teased her about school, rolled her eyes at her dad’s bad jokes, and beamed when Tommy ruffled her hair like he always did. Normal.

Joel did the same. Sat across from you at the dinner table, calm, collected, focused on his plate like the steak needed his full attention. He spoke when he had to, laughed when it was natural, let Tommy rib him about finally letting himself be celebrated for once. If anyone had been watching closely, they’d say he was fine.

But you caught him looking.

You weren’t sure if it was just a ‘he glanced at you at the same time you glanced at him’ kind of thing, awkward and just coincidence. But it happened too often for that. His eyes dragged over your face for a second too long when you passed him a dish. His fingers would flex around his beer bottle when Sarah chatted to you about soccer. He sat back in his chair at one point, fingers tapping idly against his thigh, gaze slipping to your mouth before he forced himself to look away. 

And then later, when you were singing him an off-key rendition of Happy Birthday—Sarah belting, Tommy grinning, and Joel blushing crimson with a hand over his face—you saw the way the candlelight flickered in his eyes.

“Make a wish!” Sarah exclaimed as the song died down.

Joel leaned forward, jaw tight, hands moving to brace against the edge of the table. The room quieted, waiting. And just as he was about to blow them out… He looked at you.

It was quick, a flick of his eyes, a second too long, a beat too heavy. But it was enough. Enough to make your breath hitch, enough to send something sharp and aching down your spine.

Like whatever was running through his head had everything to do with you and nothing to do with wishing for more wishes.

Then the candles went out.

Cheers from Tommy and Sarah filled the room, shattering the moment, breaking the thread stretched too tight. You quickly joined the raucous applauding and Joel sat back, shaking his head when Sarah asked What’d you wish for, Dad?

He didn’t answer.

And you didn’t need him to.

Dinner went fine.

You had been halfway through folding laundry when a knock came at the door a few days later. It was sharp, impatient–a knock that made your stomach tighten before you even reached it.

And as you opened the door, you couldn’t help the surprise on your face when you saw him.

His dark hair was mussed, a mess of waves from a long day’s work, damp strands clinging to his temples. His shirt was stained and sweat-damp at the collar, fabric sticking to the broad stretch of his chest, fresh smudges of dirt and grease painting his skin like he hadn’t even stopped to clean up.

His breath was uneven, shallow, like he had rushed here, like he had spent the whole damn day working through something only to find himself on your doorstep.

“Joel?” you began, looking around for your husband’s truck, “Where’s Tommy?”

“Sent him to talk to the concrete guys.” His voice was rough, like he wasn’t sure he should be here—but he came anyway.

Silence stretched between you, thick and humming. He hadn’t stepped inside, and you didn’t make a move either. 

Finally, he took a deep breath, “Did you mean it?”

You blinked at him, confused.

“When you said fuck the rules.”

Your stomach flipped into your chest, your heart beginning to thunder in your throat. His eyes stayed on you, dark and searching, waiting, almost pleading.

“Yes,” you finally said, voice cracking.

He lunged.

His hands found your face, fingers cupping your jaw with such tenderness that contrasted his need, tilting your head up as his lips crashed into yours—hot, feverish, desperate. You gasped against his mouth, and he swallowed it down, kissing you like he had been starving for it, like he had spent days, hell, months holding himself back only to break now, to let it consume him whole.

You molded together like this wasn’t the first time but the thousandth, like your lips had already memorized the shape of one another, though the heat and the desperate way you clung to him told a different story. Your hands twisted in the worn cotton of his shirt, pulling, yanking, tearing it over his head, arms snaking around his neck as he pushed you back. You only heard the click of the lock as he slammed the door shut behind him.

Your spine hit the wall with a dull thud, and he barely paused. He only stopped to pull your shirt over your head, discarding it like it was nothing before pressing his body flush to yours.

You felt everything–the heat of his skin. The rough scrape of his jeans. The hard, thick press of him between your legs. But it wasn’t just that, it wasn’t just the way he fit against you, the way he felt. It was how hungry he was.

How he touched you like he was mapping you out by memory, hands skimming over your ribs, splaying over your waist before dipping lower, gripping your ass, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp. He hoisted you up like it was nothing, like you belonged there.

Your legs locked around his hips, his hands gripping tight beneath you, holding you up, holding you still, pressing you harder into the unyielding wall behind you.

“I’ve wanted to kiss these perfect, sweet lips for so goddamn long,” he breathed, his voice low, wrecked, nearly shaking.

A sound caught in your throat—half gasp, half moan—as Joel kissed you again, deeper, rougher, claiming every inch of your mouth like he wasn’t ever going to stop.

His body was unrelenting, his grip unyielding, his hands moving—always moving, like he couldn’t touch enough of you at once. One held tight to your thigh, pulling you tighter against him, the other sliding up your spine, fingers curling into your hair, tugging just enough to make your head tip back, exposing more of your throat to him. 

And he took it. Mouth dragging lower, teeth grazing, lips parting, sucking, tasting.

Your hands were everywhere—gripping his shoulders, clawing at his back, desperate, needy, as he ground into you, hips pressing tight between your thighs, and suddenly there was no air left between you at all.

There was only heat, hands, breath, and want.

And Joel. Only Joel.

His grip tightened, fingers flexing where they held you, keeping you locked against him, and then he was moving—pulling you with him, dragging you away from the wall like he couldn’t bear to stop touching you for even a second.

Your hands twisted into his hair, keeping him close, lips still fused as he carried you across the room, each step heavy, deliberate, every inch of you pressed against him.

Then, suddenly, your back hit the couch.

The cushions dipped beneath you as Joel settled you down, kneeling between your legs, breath coming short, hands already at your waistband, already pulling, already seeking more.

Your eyes flicked open just as his fingers curled into the denim, but you stopped him.

Your hands covered his, stilling him, and for the first time tonight, Joel froze. His chest rose and fell sharply, his knuckles flexing beneath your touch, his eyes flicking up to yours.

“Let me take care of you tonight,” you whispered.

He didn’t move, you weren’t even sure if he was breathing. He only watched you, pupils blown wide, his jaw tight, like he was caught between disbelief and surrender.

You pushed up, slowly, deliberately, until you were eye level with him, until your mouth was brushing against his again, tongues sliding, teeth nipping, pulling another wrecked sound from deep in his throat. You moaned into him, hands dragging over the planes of his chest before pushing him back, turning him toward the couch.

You stood before him, slow and measured, fingers hooking into your waistband.

Joel’s throat bobbed, his eyes dragging down your bare chest, lower, blazing as they followed your hands, as they lingered where your fingers began pushing your pants down. His breath came rough, unsteady.

"Go on, baby," he rasped, voice wrecked, thick fingers gripping the couch. "Take ‘em off. Show me what’s mine."

You smiled coyly, dragging your shorts down agonizingly slow, and once they were discarded, Joel immediately sat up, hands grabbing for you, fingers spreading wide over your thighs like he couldn’t bear to not touch you another second.

One hand traveled up, dragging from the inside of your knee to the damp heat between your legs, where the lace of your panties was practically soaked through already.

His fingers curled, a low, rough chuckle slipping from his throat as his thumb pressed into your panty clad center, just slightly, just enough to make your breath catch.

"These are cute," he murmured, teasing, and then leaned forward, his mouth finding your hip bone, lips dragging over soft skin, kissing and teasing. His fingers stayed firm, still gripping your thigh as his teeth scraped over the soft flesh of your stomach. His lips traveled lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses into the fabric as it sat just over your thigh, catching the delicate lace between his teeth.

And then he bit down. And ripped them straight off.

"Joel!!" you screeched, your body lurching forward, grabbing at his shoulders, breath knocking out of you at the sheer force of him.

He hummed, satisfied, palming your ass, still gripping you like he wasn’t finished yet.

"Think I’ll keep ‘em," he mused, voice deep, smug, his free hand stuffing the ruined lace into his back pocket.

Your breath heaved out of you, body buzzing as you giggled, shaking your head and climbing on top of his lap, “You are so bad,”

Joel just grinned, hands firm on your cheeks, guiding you, pulling you closer as you sat down on his lap.

The rough grit of denim met your bare center, and the friction sent a sharp pulse of heat through your core. You shivered, sensitive, every nerve ending alight as you rolled your hips down onto him. Joel sucked in a breath, his fingers flexing where they gripped your thighs, but he didn’t push you down, didn’t move to take over, even though you could feel how badly he wanted to. He was holding back, letting you have this moment, letting you grind against the thick press of him as slick coated the seam of his jeans, your body aching for more.

"Help me get these off?" he muttered, voice low, thick, barely in control. His hands stayed on your thighs as you reached down, fingers fumbling with his belt, the clatter of the buckle mixing with your heavy breathing.

With shaking fingers, you dragged the zipper down, the sound barely louder than the ragged breaths filling the room. He lifted his hips, only releasing you to shove his jeans down to his knees, hissing through his teeth as his cock sprang free, thick and hot, the head already glistening.

The breath of relief he let out was cut short as your fingers wrapped around him, slow, deliberate, dragging along his length just to watch his face twist in pleasure. His whole body tensed beneath you, jaw clenched tight, chest rising and falling with deep, measured breaths as he let you stroke him, let you feel every hard inch of him. His cock twitched in your grip, heat pooling between your thighs at the sheer size of him, the way he pulsed in your hand, the way his fingers dug into your skin, like he was fighting to keep himself from flipping you over and slamming you into the couch right then and there.

"Next time," you whispered, leaning in until your lips brushed his ear, voice dripping with promise, "you're at least gonna let me suck your cock. Deal?"

A sound ripped from his throat, half-growl, half-moan, and his hand shot up, tangling in your hair, gripping hard as he crushed his mouth to yours, kissing you deep, all tongue and teeth and hunger. His free hand slid down your back, rough fingertips dragging over heated skin before gripping your ass, kneading, pulling you against him, pressing you flush to the heat of him.

"Next time," he muttered, voice thick, heavy, wrecked, "but if you don’t sit on my cock right now, I swear to God, I will flip you over and—"

You cut him off with a smirk, lifting yourself up just enough to run him through your soaked folds, teasing, coating him in you. His breath hitched, sharp, his grip tightening against your hips, his whole body going rigid beneath you.

"You’ll what now?" you teased, notching the head of his cock at your entrance.

The thickness of him was always overwhelming. No matter how many times you had taken him, no matter how much he stretched you, there was always that moment when your body had to adjust, had to accommodate the sheer size of him. You moaned as you sank down slowly, taking your time, feeling the slow, delicious stretch as he filled you inch by inch.

Joel's head fell back against the couch, brows furrowed, his lips parting around a broken groan as he let you take him, let you work yourself down onto him at your own pace. His fingers flexed against your waist, gripping tight, sure to leave bruises, but he didn’t force you down, didn’t rush, just let you feel it, let you savor the way he filled you completely.

"Goddamn," he gritted out, voice strained, body trembling with restraint, "takin’ me so well, baby. Fuck, just like that."

You whimpered, nails dragging across his shoulders, needing something to hold onto as your body stretched around him. He felt impossibly deep, hitting that spot inside you that only he knew, that made your whole body tense, made your breath catch, made your mind blank as you sank down, down, down, until your ass pressed into his thighs.

Joel let you have a moment to adjust, chest heaving, his hands dragging up your sides, fingertips trailing over the swell of your breasts before sliding back down to grip your hips, strong, steady, grounding. And then, just when you thought you could start moving, he gripped you tighter and thrust up into you, sharp and deep.

Your gasp broke into a moan, your head tilting back as the sensation sent heat flooding through your core. His grip tightened, his pace rough and demanding as he fucked up into you, his hips meeting yours in quick, brutal strokes, forcing you to take every inch of him.

"That what you needed?" he grunted, his voice a low growl, his hands guiding you now, forcing you to ride him, making you take it.

Your whole body was burning, desperate, aching as you rocked against him, every stroke pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His teeth dragged along your throat, lips and tongue soothing the marks he left behind, hands sliding up to cup your breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples as he groaned into your skin.

"Love watchin’ you like this," he murmured, voice wrecked, his breath hot against your neck, "been dreamin’ of this–you bouncin’ on my cock, lettin’ me ruin you. Such a good girl for me, huh?"

“Yes, Joel, yes–”

You clenched around him, your body tightening in response, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your stomach.

"Fuck, baby, you gonna come for me? Already?”

No. Not yet. Not yet, because this moment was too much, too big, and you wanted to feel every second of it. But he needed to know. He needed to.

He slowed down so his thumb could press against your clit, slow, teasing, deliberate, and your whole body jerked, oversensitive, and barely holding on.

“Joel,” you whispered.

"Yeah?" His voice was a low rasp, breathless, wrecked as his half hooded eyes gazed up at you.

Your hands slid up to his neck, playing with the nape of his hair as you tried to find the words.

"I—" you swallowed hard, heart hammering as you tried to catch your breath. "I took a test this morning."

Joel stilled. The gentle teasing of his thumb stopped. His hips halted.

Everything stopped.

He blinked up at you, lips slightly parted, completely still beneath you. "What?"

“I’m pregnant,” you said, biting your lip as you gauged his reaction.

His hands spread wide across your waist, fingers pressing tight, thumbs tracing slow, reverent circles. Then, lowering, splaying over your stomach.

"Carryin’ my baby in there, huh?"

Your heart skipped.

"Joel…"

But suddenly, you weren’t in control anymore. You’re not sure you ever were to begin with. 

His arms wrapped around your waist, locking you in, holding you so tight against his chest that there was nowhere to go, no space between you at all. His muscles flexed, his grip firm, and then he drove up into you, his cock punching so deep you felt the thick, unrelenting stretch of him in your stomach.

You gasped, body jerking against him, the sudden force of it making your breath catch as pleasure cracked through you like a whip.

"Fuck," he groaned, the sound raw, guttural, his head tipping back for a split second before he resumed his hungry kisses to your flesh.

He thrust up hard, sharp, thick heat dragging along your walls, stretching you open, making you take every inch. The press of him was almost unbearable, every push hitting that spot inside you that made your whole body tremble and your moans break apart into sharp, breathless whimpers.  

"You’re carrying my baby." he groaned into your skin.

"Joel!" you screeched, head tilting back, body arching, your nails digging into his shoulders as his mouth found your throat, biting, sucking, marking. His cock dragged through your slick, gliding easy but so thick, so deep, pressing right up against that sweet spot over and over again.

But still—you hadn’t said it.

And Joel knew it.

He slowed, hips dragging deep, deliberate, making you feel all of him, every thick inch stretching you open.

"You can say whatever you want," he murmured, voice low, rough, thick with something dark and heavy. His hands slid up your back, pulled you closer, his lips brushing over your ear.

"But who's been fillin’ you up every month, huh?"

He rolled his hips up slow, so deep, and you whimpered, clenching down around him.

"Who’s been fuckin’ you until you see stars? Who’s made you come on his cock over and over again, baby?"

His voice turned gravelly, filthy, absolute sin.

"Sure as hell ain’t my baby brother."

Your whole body trembled, on edge, breaking apart, so close to coming, but he wouldn’t give you what you needed.

"Say it," Joel demanded, his grip tightening around you,

Your lips parted, a whimper slipping out, but nothing came.

He growled, snapping his hips hard, making you cry out.

"Say whose baby this is."

You were right there, right on the edge, pleasure coiled so tight you could barely breathe.

"Say it, and I’ll let you come on my cock again."

Your whole body shook, thighs trembling, head tilting back as the words finally tore from your lips.

"It’s yours, Joel," you gasped, the words breaking, desperate, ruined. "It’s yours—fuck—"

His breath hitched, sharp, ragged, completely wrecked.

"That’s right."

He pulled you against him just right so you were grinding into him, your clit catching on the patch of curly dark hair at the base of his cock where your hips met. The moan that left your throat was downright obscene as you felt the pleasure shock through you. 

His hands moved to grip your hips so tight it was bruising, his mouth crushing against yours, teeth dragging over your bottom lip, his pace wild, desperate, unstoppable as he dragged you against him again and again. 

"You’re mine," he groaned, voice breaking, fucking into you with everything he had, filling you over and over, relentless. "My baby. My girl. My fuckin’ perfect girl, carryin’ my baby."

"Joel!" you screamed, your whole body locking up, pleasure ripping through you like fire, waves of heat curling, crashing, drowning you.

"That’s it," he rasped, feeling you tighten around him, feeling you break for him as your clit kept rubbing perfectly against his pelvis, sending shockwaves through you as he held you through your climax. "That’s it, my good girl, gonna fill you up again, baby, gonna take it? Gonna take my come again?"

“Yes, Joel, yes, yes, yes,” you blubbered, clinging to him.  

And then, with a rough, broken groan, Joel buried himself deep, pressing flush, full, spilling inside you, filling you completely. 

Your whole body continued to tremble as you both caught your breath. Your thighs were shaking, limbs weak and boneless as you sprawled over him, completely spent, completely ruined. Your heartbeat was thunderous, hammering in your ears, every nerve ending still shivering from the aftershocks.

His hands were still gripping your hips, tight, possessive, unmoving, holding you flush to him, keeping you there with him. His head was tipped back against the couch, chest rising and falling fast, lips parted as he caught his breath, his skin hot and damp beneath your palms.

Slowly, reality began creeping back in.

Your fingers traced mindlessly over his broad shoulders, the damp curls at the nape of his neck, still coming down, still floating in the hazy, fucked-out warmth of it all.

Joel’s grip softened, his hands sliding up your back, slow, lazy strokes over sweat-slick skin. His breath was still uneven when he finally muttered, voice wrecked and hoarse, “Christ…made me lose my damn mind there for a minute.”

You huffed a quiet laugh against his shoulder, still not ready to move, still too high from everything. But you lifted yourself up just slightly so your forehead pressed to his, nudging your nose against his, his lips grazing, teasing, kissing you slow and deep.

And then you looked up as movement caught the corner of your eye.

And froze.

Everything in you turned to ice.

Because standing in the doorway, staring at the two of you, was Tommy.

tag list: @alidiggory92 @pinkylouise @izzy698 @doblasftcisco @devotedlypaleluminary @elsplayground @puduvallee @victoriaholland @legoemma

[webbluvrsugar]

earlyseasons!spencer making you squirt.

cw: doesn’t mean sub!spencer, it’s more like eager Spencer experimenting on reader, written mostly for funsies.

Every since you and Spencer have been messing — fucking — around, you’ve noticed that he’s been a little shy, at least at first, his touch has been gentle but also… experimental, the way he looks at you when you’re under him and pushes you just a little harder almost makes you feel like like he’s studying you, testing something on you. But he’s a profiler, he’s learned that you don’t mind, so when he comes with the proposition of trying to make you squirt, you’re doubtful, specially as he pushes you down on your bed — already naked.

“Spencer, you don’t really need to do this, I —“ you try to speak but he’s quick to interrupt you, his hands running down your thighs.

“I know, I just.. I just want to try something new, just for a bit,” he hushes, eyes looking up to you for approval as he puts away his glasses and when Spencer says ‘just for a bit’ he is indeed just… lying, lying to your face.

His tongue licks a fat strip up your folds, it’s bold, something that he’d at first would hesitate to do, gently circling your clit before he attaches his lips onto it, gently sucks and his fingers go up to spread you further.

Spencer’s tongue feels good, but by now, you know that he would’ve already tried to stick a finger or two in you, but he doesn’t, it almost seems like he’s trying to reach this personal goal of his all with his mouth, and he’s doing a good job at it, because his tongue prods at your entrance and you arch your back, softly moaning, head throwing back and meeting your pillow.

“How does that feel?” He questions as if you need to answer for him to know it.

But still, you nod again, “Good,” you whisper, hand going down to grab at the sheets.

“Yeah, I can tell.” He grins, cocky, before his mouth latches onto your cunt again.

He devours you, nose bumping into your clit as his tongue precisely chooses where to run through, your breath being taken from your lungs when it caresses your insides one more time, the warm tip of the muscle moving within you.

“Spence,” you whimper, your knees struggling to keep themselves in place as he pulls back and pays attention to your swollen pearl one more time.

“Close?” He asks, tongue licking up a few more times through your folds, trying to get all up in there.

“Mh — Mhm,” you moan, a pleased sigh following suit.

“Did you know that —“ he pauses, “statistically, only thirty-five to fifty percent of women have experienced squirting mid sex—“ he presses an open mouthed kiss to your cunt. “But it depends on the method, I’ve read about it, we can try and see if this will be the one for you.”

And for someone who’s so used to talking, Spencer finally goes to quiet after a while and focus on your pussy, paying extra attention to what you like, guiding himself with your moans and gentle curses.

“Spence—“ with that, he thinks this really might be his chance of getting you to do it the first try, so his lips wrap around your clit one last time, only letting go when he hears a hushed cry of his name escape your lips— “Spencer!” A stream of fluid expels from you, and he watches in awe, slightly tilting his head as your body shivers and writhes right before him.

His hands gently caress your thighs, fingers letting go of your folds, his eyes finally meeting yours when you take a breath and before you can speak, he notes;

“Let’s do it again, maybe you’ll do it quicker if I actually use my fingers…”

[nanivinsmoke]

∞ dirty old man

old!manlogan x fem!reader

summary ∞ what happens when you catch your boyfriend sniffing your panties

tags: panty sniffing, arousal, sub logan, dom reader, logan’s a little old and perverted, age gap (reader’s in their 20s), riding, creampie, dirty talking, squirting, face sitting, logan’s so horny he’s cumming a lot, etc..

note: need a muse. lowkey hate this

kicking off your shoes and putting your keys on the island, you called out for your boyfriend, hoping he was here to give you some loving after your long day. you glanced at the couch and noticed his suit jacket resting on the edge, which let you know he was home.

with an eyebrow raised, you pulled off your jacket and made your way deeper inside of your house, checking to see where he was at. and when you finally reached your bedroom, you thought he would be there—napping—only for your bed to be empty. but, as turned on your heels to look elsewhere, you could see that your closet light was on and the door was slightly closed.

“baby, you didn’t hear me—oh.” the old man froze. his tired hazel eyes wide open, while he still held the lacey fabric up to his nose, looking like a deer in headlights.

“oh, so this is why you didn’t hear me call you. too busy sniffing my panties. hm?” you smirked, inching toward him, slowly peeling off your bottom layer. logan had nothing to say. he was caught right in the act. he couldn’t lie or play it off, you had caught him. he was just going to wait and see what you had in store for him.

“does my smell get you off? wanna smell these one’s too?” you tugged on the band of your thong, eyes trailing down to his bulge sitting behind his pants. your mouth watered at the sight and you quickly pulled your tiny piece of fabric down, before tossing it to him and getting down on your knees.

he watched with low eyes as you palmed and kissed his boner, making him twitch in his pants, before unbuttoning them and pulling them down, making his fat cock spring to life. you kissed and licked his precum coated tip, jerking him off and earning a groan from him; before you stopped.

“don’t stop on my account. show me how my worn panties arouse you so much,” he grunted and rolled his eyes, before putting thong up to his nose and sniffing your arousal. he let out a deep groan, eyes rolling back in his head while he felt your lips wrap around his cock.

the smell of you on your panties along with the scent of your arousal growing had him losing his mind. he gripped the back of your head and pushed you further down onto his shaft, making you deep throat him. the sound of you slightly gagging had his tip jerking in your mouth and ropes of cum pooling inside.

you swallowed and he shivered when you pulled away, eyes soft and sexy as you looked up at him. “you must’ve been so backed up for you to cum early like that. hope you got some more stored in there for me~”

he would’ve came again right there in his spot just from how sexy your voice sounded to him. he watched you kiss the head of his cock once more before stuffing him back into his pants. with an eyebrow raise, he grunted in annoyance. he was far from done. he had hoped to cum a couple of more times, especially inside of you.

standing up to reach his height, you kissed his lips, his own immediately moving in sync with yours. the kiss held so much passion, so much desire and so much lust. he needed you so bad and his strong sense of smell didn’t help, when he could smell how much you wanted him.

“don’t worry, ‘m far from done~” you kissed him once more before guiding him down to the floor. quickly grabbing a pillow from the bedroom, you placed it underneath his head, before hovering over him. slowly, you squatted down onto his face, connecting your unbelievably wet pussy with his lips.

logan didn’t waste any time. he lapped up your juices like it would be his last time, slurping up every last bit of your essence. he ate and devoured your pussy like his life depended on it, sending you into a moaning frenzy. a warm hand reached up and under your shirt, pinching one of your perky nipples; teasing it.

you rolled your hips against his face, loving the pleasure he was creating for you. it was so good. it was exactly what you wanted after a hard day at work. sitting on your boyfriend’s face was the perfect remedy to fix a stressful day.

the more he licked and slurped, the closer your orgasm came and soon the ball in your stomach caved and exploded; causing you to cream all over his face.

“fuckkkk baby. don’t stop.”

the growl he let out, vibrated against your cunt, making you squeal and squirm, gushing some more; before you moved from his face. you leaned down and kissed him, licking off every bit of yourself, before you sat on his clothed chest. reaching back, you palmed his erection in his pants—eyes wide when you felt something sticky seeping through.

“don’t waste it baby. next time, put it in me.” you hummed and pulled him out of his pants, swiping his cum up and placing into your mouth, relishing the taste on your tongue. you could barely wait, grinding against his torso before you moved a little and slowly sat down on his length.

hissing, he stretched your gummy walls open, making a temporary room inside of you; almost you to the brim. “fuck—might not last doll,” logan warned and you smiled. grabbing your panties, you stuffed it into the older man’s mouth, adding to his arousal.

you shifted your hips, making his tip press against your cervix, walls clenching down hard around him and making him cum a little bit inside of you. “w-want you to keep cumming inside of me. please baby, wan you to fuck a baby deep inside of me.”

hearing you speak with such vulgarity, made his dick swell even more. his animalistic urges started to unravel more and more while you started to bounce up and down on him, causing him to finally break. logan gripped your hips and slammed you down hard onto his cock, stuffing your sopping wet cunt completely.

the noises you let out while he proceeded to fuck you dumb on his cock, was like music to his ears. the squelching of your pussy, along with the sound of skin slapping each time your ass met his thighs, made you gush and whine out. he was fucking you so good. this old man knew exactly what your pussy needed and that was his fat stupid dick, stretching you out and painting your walls white.

he was close and so were you. clinging to his cock, desperate for his load to pour inside of you, wanting to feel warm with his cum.

his groaning was muffled by your panties, but you knew he was warning you. warning you that he was gonna cum. “fill me up, please. please daddy. fuck, gonna make me squ—”.

a clear stream of liquid shot out of you and splashed against his lower half, along with his buttoned up shirt. your orgasm was so intense that you came even more as he came inside of you, pushing his load deep into your tummy.

the grip on your hips was tight while he rode out his orgasm, his thrusts becoming sloppier by the second. until, he fully emptied himself and pulled out of you, the remnants of his orgasm pooling out of you.

pulling your panties out of his mouth, your lips became reacquainted with one another, shared desires flowing through the both of you. and when you pulled away, you swore you heard a whimper leave his lips.

“i love it when you miss me, old man.”

[kedsandtubesocks]

Born Again

Priest!Joel Miller x F!Demon Reader

summary: you want the handsome priest more than anything, he wants you gone…but what transpires between you & him is either a curse sent straight from hell (or a twisted blessing in disguise)

word count: 5.9k

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. dark themes. no outbreak/modern AU, enemies to lovers, Catholicism themes & imagery, multiple character deaths & discussion of death, heavy priest kink, blasphemy & corruption kink, morally gray!Joel, morally gray!reader, unspecific age gap (Joel is in his 50’s & older than reader), biting & blood drinking, moments of violence, manhandling, blood imagery, unprotected p in v, oral (f & m), finger sucking, major yearning & angst, protective!Joel, use of gendered language, hint of bi!reader, one use of “good girl,” reader addresses Joel as “old man”

a/n: This is my entry for @pedgito SpringFever25 [cemetery + supernatural] please be aware of the warnings - this fic I know won’t be everyone’s cup of tea & I kindly ask if it isn’t please scroll away! Divider credit & thanks goes to the wonderful @saradika-graphics

St. Jude’s church is quaint, rather simple. A coziness inside reflects its small Texas community that sits on the outskirts of Travis County. Beautiful stained glass windows line the walls illuminating the space.

The opening hymnal starts, and you sing the songs like you care. Then your eyes are drawn forward as your prey arrives.

The priest moves around the altar, readying himself for the mass. The cream and purple ecclesiastical robes paint him a holy shepherd of his flock.

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and of the Holy Spirit…” He makes the sign of the cross deep with an accented twang, and your lips twitch.

You never would’ve expected such a rich southern voice to leave a pastor. Then again, this man doesn’t seem like an ordinary priest.

Father Joel Miller is rugged, reminding you more of an outlaw wearing a costume. The stern look on his handsome face seals a gruff nature to him. Yet you’ve seen his soft heart when the congregation flocks to him after mass finishes.

Many in the church lust after him. You can sense it. Even if it wasn’t in your nature, it’s hard to miss the multiple women during the service batting their eyes and wearing rather revealing tops that would make a nun faint.

You aren’t the only one who wants this man. But, maybe you might be the only one who wants to devour this man’s soul.

As a demon of lust, you’ve always wondered what it would taste like to indulge with a man of the cloth.

And Joel is your perfect target.

This priest has been challenging. Unlike other humans, you haven’t been able to read his desires.

You wandered into this town a few months ago and settled in effortlessly. This church called to you like a siren’s song. The amount of carnal desire seeping out begged for you to feast, made your mouth water. Then you saw the reason why.

Currently Father Joel focuses on preparing the eucharist, his brow heavily furrowed and meditative in prayer.

Distinguished in his age, scruffy beard, strong nose, gorgeous eyes - it’s unbearable witnessing a man like him waste under the holy robes. A bitter taste fills your mouth just thinking about it.

After the service, the church opens their food drive pantry for the weekly breakfast to serve those in the community who need a meal.

It’s your first time joining.

Originally, you had planned to lurk, slowly get accustomed to being around holy ground until finally working up the strength to pounce.

But of course, being a new face in a small church, you were singled out immediately.

You shared a fake sob story about how you were searching for God. Multiple parishioners immediately took you under their wing, even dragged you to bible study. Unfortunately they’ve now roped you into helping out with the event today. But, you view it as a step closer to your handsome goal.

Except the hot priest doesn’t give you a second glance.

You try everything to be in his eyesight, purposefully being extra disgustingly holy and helping out.

Even one of the deacons compliments you.

“A young woman such as yourself taking the time on a Sunday to do this? You’re a fine example.” Deacon Matthews beams at you proudly.

Yet Father Joel ignores you, not once acknowledging your presence.

It pisses you off. Annoyed, you’re sent back to the pantry at the rectory building to put away the plates. In the quiet storage room, heavy footsteps approach behind.

You turn around -

Whatever words you want to say die in your throat.

Father Joel stands in the doorway, staring furious. This is it, your chance. An unbearable excitement bubbles in you.

“Oh, Father! I’ve been meaning to-”

Your words get cut off immediately when the priest raises up a small crucifix, clutching it painfully tight in his grasp. He remains silent.

“Wait, what’s wrong?” You’re slightly confused and glad it leaks into your voice.

“I know what ya are…” his voice rumbles low and deadly.

“God damned creature of sin, I cast you out.” He spits the words seeping with venom.

A sharp pain strikes straight into your chest as if a lightning bolt just struck you. Your eyes sting. A distorted screeching noise, an internal alarm, roars in your ears while an animalistic panic claws across your skin.

You recognize this feeling.

Once after you had slept with a nun and devoured her soul, her hellbent convent quickly found you. The head mother superior, instead of a cross, raised a rosary at you. She spoke similar words to what this priest just said, invoking the same reaction you feel now.

Everything clicks.

You bark a laugh, shaking the sensation away, and look the priest dead in the eye.

“So…You’re an exorcist, huh?” You grin surprised, borderline gleeful.

This is going to be fun.

—

You show up to mass next Sunday, walking prouder than ever entering St. Jude’s church.

Joel murderously glares at you any chance he can. You get tempted to blow a mocking kiss at him during communion.

After mass, you even stay to wish him well. The priest keeps silent, doesn’t even shake your hand. Just nods politely knowing others are around watching.

“Oh what did you do to make Father Joel look at you like that?” One of the sweet grandmothers from bible study jests with you.

“Wait, I thought he always looked like that?” You joke back. The older woman laughs, swatting your arm.

“He’s quite grumpy at first.” She nods. “But after what he went through, I don’t blame him.”

That peaks your interest instantly.

You want to ask more, see what gossip she could spill. But the woman leaves too soon with her husband, and you’re left more curious than ever.

You’re about to leave and slink back into the shadows. Until a hard hand yanks at your arm, stopping you.

Stunned, you find Joel frowning with pure malice.

His touch sparks an immediate reaction. An electric chill runs up your spin. As strong as you are, you can admit, this man must be incredibly formidable to hold such blessed power. He could burn you alive.

“If you’re going to grab me this hard, at least take me to dinner first.” You scoff.

He doesn’t say anything but drags you to a secluded area alongside the shadow of the church. He’s alarmingly strong.

“How the fuck are ya even here?” The priest snarls.

The guy knows his stuff. Normally your kind doesn't last long around churches, especially when a mass is happening.

But you’re strong too. And the sins festering in this house of worship keep you strong, tarnishing the holy ground’s sanctity.

“Maybe you need to recommend more confessions, father. Your flock isn’t as holy as you think they are.” You sneer amused, yanking your arm away from his grip.

He’s closer than ever, and a caged desire rattles to pounce. It begs, aches, for you to consume him and feast.

Soon voices approach, and you slide out from his grasp.

“See you next week.” You wave, happily slipping into the shadows.

Keeping your promise, you arrive at the church the following week. Except this time you’re here for bible study. Of course you play along, the perfect curious believer wanting to learn. But you’re honestly here for the gossip.

“So what’s the deal with Father Joel?” You ask when the pastries are brought out.

Two of the women glance at each other sharing knowing looks.

“We forgot… you’re still new here and don’t know.” One of them mutters quietly.

Apparently, the priest was married before. Not only that, he had a young daughter.

Honestly you’re not entirely shocked. He’s gorgeous. Good for him for enjoying the fun before he decided to become boring and holy.

“But the three of them were in a horrible car accident, and both his wife and daughter perished.”

You don’t have a heart as a demon. But the echoes of sorrow, emotions you understood when you were human, flutter awakened.

“That’s… awful.” You mumble.

“Isn’t it?” The other woman nods sorrowful.

He apparently begged God for mercy the day his family died.

“And after that, he took on the path of a priest.” The other woman finishes bright like this is a happy ending of the story.

You feel upset for Joel now, for his family, getting diminished as a way to remind people of God’s grace.

“Thanks to God.” You say robotically. The words taste awful, and you hate them.

When bible study ends, the sun slowly starts to sink over the horizon. Saint Jude’s is not just a simple church, but an older one. There’s even a cemetery right beside it.

You walk along the graveyard’s edge cautious not to fully step inside.

Further inside among the headstones, the priest sits on a bench beside a tree, looking down at the ground with rosary beads in hand.

Now more than ever Joel looks like a man, beautiful and human, not a holy warrior of God.

He must sense you. Immediately his eyes snap up, and pure rage twists his face.

“What are y’still doin’ here?” Joel snaps low.

“Had bible study.” You shrug.

Daring to be bold, you take one step into the cemetery.

Being in here among the dead is more dangerous even compared to the church. So you remain close to the entrance.

“Y’know I can exorcise your ass right here and now.” He growls, and it sounds beautiful.

“You’re forgetting where we are, old man.” That nickname slips from you effortlessly.

His mouth falls. Eyes, dark as the graveyard dirt, fill with trepidation. It’s a strange reaction that paints him small, almost lost and begging for something.

But you simply shrug it off, kicking a bit of dirt towards him.

A cemetery is the one true neutral place where both demon and saint can walk alongside each other. Neither you or the priest have any power here. In theory, you’re as weak as a mortal. But so is he.

“What the fuck do ya want?” Joel says exhausted with an anger brewing below his voice.

“Demons want everything, that’s a silly question.” You reply.

His earthen eyes narrow, pinning you right where you stand among the dead.

“But what do you want?” He emphasizes his words sounding delicious this calm and deadly.

“Maybe I just want you.” Your answer, earnest and casual, rings borderline soft.

Exiting the cemetery, you wave goodbye to him.

“Until next time, Father.”

A new plan of action hatches.

Being a lust demon you indeed hold the ability to sense the carnal wishes of others. But it also means you can draw out and read what a person’s desires are, erotic or not.

And you want to know why Joel desired to become a priest.

Sometimes you can catch hints of a person’s desires from those they’re close with. So since your abilities, for whatever reason, don’t work on the handsome priest, your next option is Deacon Matthews.

He’s a boring man. Has two kids about to head off to college and a wife he doesn’t know is secretly having an affair. He’s been earnestly trying to talk with you more, and you swear you catch a whiff of lust floating off him.

So you sign up for another church event. This time it’s a rummage sale. You gladly offer to help at the stall Deacon Matthews works.

You catch the look on Joel’s face when he spots you. How disgusted he scowls almost makes you laugh.

“He seems extra grumpy today doesn’t he?” Deacon Matthews notices it too, and you playfully snicker alongside him.

“What happened to Father Joel embracing the heavenly gift of joy?” You joke.

The deacon sighs. “Well, after the trials he’s been through, I understand how hard it can be for him to find grace sometimes.”

Shifting in your plastic seat, you give your full attention to the deacon. Now you sense it, the heated sensation of a man feeling eager being the center of attention.

Deacon Matthew leans closer and of course tells you the same story you already know.

So you decide to act now. You touch Deacon Matthew’s arm expressing your sympathy, but it allows your power to slowly trickle in and search.

You find a glimmer of Joel in the deacon’s memory, but a terrible sensation crashes in.

Anguish and hurt, a frozen grief ripping fierce…

The holy mantle weighs a burden for Joel.

This man swore the vows, took on the blessed robes, as atonement for letting his family die. He wants to punish himself for not saving them, believing he doesn’t deserve to indulge in this world.

Pious, prudence, all punishment.

And by exorcising demons as God’s warrior, he gets to ignore his own.

You didn’t expect this much guilt, and heaven splitting heartbreak.

It makes your lips quiver, and you can’t explain why.

Immediately your hand draws back from Deacon Matthew. His eyes have hazed over, borderline lewd, and you subtly shift away.

“I’m sorry Deacon, can you maybe get me some water?” You ask politely, faking exhaustion.

“Of course, you’ve done so much today. Sit and rest.” He agrees, eagerly scrambling out of his seat.

You exhale, closing your eyes and trying to relax in the uncomfortable plastic seat.

“What? Can’t have me so you’re going after him?” Joel’s voice cuts through sharp, and your eyes snap open.

Standing hands crossed over his chest, he wears his typical glare.

He’s in a simple black button up with the white priestly collar gleaming through. This attire shows off his built arms, his strong physical form. The afternoon light also highlights the glorious grays in his beard and hair.

He’s older, beautifully older - you know this. But it feels as if you’re finally letting it sink, like fully understanding why an art piece is stunning.

You don’t say anything, simply stare at this man who’s slowly been eating away at you.

Deacon Matthews thankfully arrives just in time. Batting your eyes, you exaggerate your thanks. The deacon blushes, and before he can even greet Joel the priest storms off.

You don’t even have the heart to go after him or even make a joke.

—

In the bible, the book of Joel tells a somber tale. Scripture depicts the prophet Joel, in the midst of a dooming plague of locusts, urges the people to repent.

You think it’s almost ironic, a sick goddamn joke, that this man is named after such a biblical figure.

Because Joel Miller has become a plague upon you.

Your thoughts are only of him. You stay at the church more just to see him.

You haven’t feasted or eaten in weeks. Your body feels exhaustedly sluggish, more human, but you don’t even mind.

A new hunger ripens in you now anyways.

At night, your fingers constantly dig deep into your pussy thinking of Joel’s firm hands all over you, strong and dangerous, burning your skin. Demon of desire or not, this craving is unbearable. Your mouth dries parched at the thought of tasting him.

More, something dark in your whispers. You want him more…

After mass, a choir member tells you Father Joel wants you to meet him in his office. This could be the most twisted trap, but you realize you won’t be mad if it is.

“Come in.” Joel’s gruff voice comes muffled through the office door.

A strange nervous energy bubbles in you. Entering the office, you feel younger than ever, faintly human.

The beige room stands desolate, spartan and bare, except for a picture of the Divine Mercy on the wall. At his desk, Joel scribbles away at paperwork.

Closing the door behind you, his eyes flicker up.

“Didn’t expect you to exorcise me in the middle of the day and with your poor cute secretary right outside. You’re getting bold, old man.” You snicker.

The priest dully glares.

“So, care to tell me why I’m here?” You ask, sliding into the seat across the desk from him.

He remains silent.

A prolonged pause follows.

“You know… this office feels very naughty professor and student vibes more than hot priest and demon-”

“Enough.” His snarl cuts you off.

He seems more on edge like he’s teetering.

An apocalyptic tension suffocates the room fast, a choking incense that stings your lungs.

Joel suddenly leans back in his chair rubbing a large calloused hand over his face.

“Do you remember… anything from when you were human?” His voice has never been so quiet.

It’s strange hearing this powerful force of a man sound this meek.

“Uh…Sorry I don’t have memories of my old life.” You tell him truthfully.

The only memory you hold of your human days is when you sold your soul. There was pain, absolute wrecking grief that was swallowing you whole. You remember wanting to save the people you love, wishing you could trade your life to keep them alive.

That’s when the quietest voice had asked among the despair - what would you trade, to save those you love?

Anything, you had sobbed out.

Then, the pain drifted away. You woke up brand new and hungry, a clean slate. Now the heartbreak that crystalized you to this new life collects cobwebs in your lost soul.

“You remember nothin’ at all?” Joel presses again, and you shake your head no.

An ancient sigh escapes him, weary and anchored by the test of time. Something in you begs to comfort him.

“You seem tired.” You comment soft.

His endless eyes find yours.

Silence settles thick in the quaint and hauntingly barren office.

There’s so much you want to say. A demonic being of craving, of want, cursed to be silent, how cruel.

You want to ask what plague has he placed upon you. Is this a new form of exorcism? What evil has he unleashed? Because you’ve never wanted someone as badly as you want him.

A knock on the door shatters the stillness.

Joel’s secretary pops her head in.

“Sorry to interrupt Father, but the archdiocese is on the phone.” She’s smug. You sensed her desire before, a powerful drunken feeling knowing she gets to order Joel around.

“Alright,” he nods, and the secretary closes the door. You don’t miss the side eye she gives you.

You take your cue and stand up to leave.

“Hey…” his voice stops you.

“Demons… they have true names. What’s yours?”

That question surprises you.

Of course you’ve been using a fake name this entire time. He must have figured that out. Smart man.

But if he knows your true name, your human name…it’s over. A demon’s true name gives an exorcist the power to permanently destroy them.

A wide knowing grin pulls at your lips.

“You still haven’t even taken me to dinner, Father.”

The smallest wave of emotion flashes across his face. A tug pulls his lips, a hint of a smile he’s fighting against.

You’re about to leave when you stop.

“Oh…Also that secretary of yours definitely wants to dom you. Don't ask me how I know.” You mention casually.

You smirk walking out of Joel’s office, especially hearing his indignant squawks as you close the door.

—

The wind blows gently, barely rustling the leaves to let the dead rest peacefully for now.

A storm approaches. Serious enough that the annual Easter festival is now in question of being canceled today.

In his simple black button up and white collar, Joel stands like an ink blot against the graveyard. You’ve noticed he always stays by this particular tree with the bench.

“I know you’re here.” Joel’s gruff sharp twanged voice pierces through the silence. His face stays focused on the gravestones, holding a rosary tight in his large hands.

You smirk and step out from the shadow of the angel statue you've been hiding behind.

This is the deepest you’ve gone into the cemetery.

“Your senses are getting better, old man.” You greet him.

He scoffs insulted.

“You know… you really are too hot to be a priest.” You’ve made the joke to him before, and you make it again.

“Pressin’ your damn luck…Remind me why I haven’t fuckin’ exorcised your ass yet?” Joel mutters rubbing his temples.

“Because I’m just too fun to get rid of?” You offer with a weak grin.

An unsettling silence grows in the cemetery.

“Or maybe…you really are here just to torment me.” The words come out mumbled, like Joel doesn’t realize he spoke them.

“I could say the same for you, priest.” You openly tell him.

Finally he turns to you.

A strange corroded weight fills your chest. You realize it’s the desire now calcified into your very being keeping you anchored to this man. You wonder if this is your eternal punishment, to crave a man you can never have.

“Tell me… What’s your real name?” Joel asks simply, no hidden motive.

Here in the graveyard, he’s just a human man. Just like you’re the whisper of a human standing before him.

A painful smile tugs at your lips.

You give him your true name, the only thing left of your humanity.

Pure dread falls over Joel’s face.

Then he snaps.

“Ya damned fuckin’ demon from hell… Get the fuck outta here!” He yells, angry and violent, like a vengeful God ripping open the sky.

Demon.

He’s never called you that. It stings more than you thought it would.

But he’s right. It’s what you are, a creature warped from a human soul now relying only on sin. Demons don’t dream. Nor do they cry. But the way your chest twists, you wonder if this is the closest it feels to crying again.

Not saying another word to Joel, you leave the cemetery.

You don’t even know why you stayed to help with the festival. You adamantly refuse to look at Joel. Everyone notices the change in your demeanor. You lie saying it’s the weather.

“Ugh, it really is quite dreary for such a holy day, huh?” The sweet elderly woman from your bible study group coo’s sympathetically. She urges you to rest in the rectory.

“No one will bother you there honey, take some time to just catch a breather.”

You take her advice, especially as the thunder rolls ominous like the heavens stand ready to strike you at any moment.

The rectory is eerily quiet. You wander around until of course find yourself at Joel’s office. You can’t take this ache raging in you anymore. Once the festival fully starts, you decide to leave in the shadows and never return.

The front door out in the main hallway opens. Spurred by a strange sense of hope, you rush out.

You’re not one for prayer, but you pray it’s Joel.

Deacon Matthews, in his boring salmon colored shirt, instead stares at you. Danger gleams in his eyes.

“Finally…I was hoping to get you alone.” His voice boils with desire, radiating from him a rancid stench.

“You’ve felt it too haven’t you? What we have between us?” He grins, a serpent slithering closer to you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” You play dumb and confused.

“You've been flirting with me this entire time. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” His voice jumps more erratic.

His desire is brewing to a poisonous level that threatens to clog your throat. So you try walking towards the door, but he stands firmly blocking it.

You haven’t eaten in months. Any time you consider feasting, your stomach now turns sour as you only think of Joel. He really has ruined you in so many ways.

With your senses dimmed, you’re too late to react when a greedy hand grabs your shoulders and pulls you closer.

Panic erupts. Feeling like a cornered animal, your teeth sharpen. Your hands twitch, itching for the attack. But your mouth acts first.

You bite down hard on the deacon’s hand, and a violent scream rips from him.

You haven’t tasted blood in months. This bite, you thought, should have sent you into a frenzy. Instead you gag tasting this pathetic man’s blood.

“What the fuck are you?!” The deacon yells in terror.

You realize you must look quite the monster now.

So you decide to show him.

Hellish claws, your claws, yank this man’s face closer. Then you whisper into his ear the tongue of the damned -

“…ⱤØ₮ ł₦ ⱧɆⱠⱠ…”

The deacon screams horrified.

Someone yanks you away.

Then Joel’s fist collides with the man’s face.

At the impact, Deacon Matthew’s cries in agony while Joel holds you close to his side. The smell of his shampoo, his cologne and something so familiar, surrounds you in a heavenly cloud.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch her.” Joel snarls deadly.

Blood spills across the deacon’s face and his hand while he sobs.

Joel holds you protective, hand cradling and covering your face. Slowly you revert to normal, the demonic retreating to hide.

No surprise, the commotion is heard.

People swarm in. Joel effortlessly explains what transpired and how you even used self defense against the deacon.

The bleeding terrified man however screams that you’re the monster here.

You stay quiet against Joel's side, keeping your face hidden, clinging to his black button up shirt. The church reacts ready to reprimand Matthews.

Everything goes hazy. Your head even aches painful, like something is trying to break through your skull.

“If y’all don’t mind, I’m gonna stay with her.” You hear Joel say.

Of course everyone strongly agrees. A few even offer to stay with you instead. But Joel keeps you in his hold.

In a blink, a door closes and you realize you’re in his office.

Then Joel’s hand slides up to your cheek. The simmering heat from his skin touching yours burns beautifully.

Even without the claws, or monstrous eyes, you still must look every bit a terrifying creature.

Then, with a white small handkerchief, he wipes away the blood on your face tenderly, cleaning you with the delicate care of someone who is precious.

“Y’got a good bite. Scared the shit outta him too.” Joel mutters, faintly joking, but you catch a hint of pride.

You stay quiet now.

“Hey, look at me.” Joel orders low, but concerned.

And you do. His eyes search yours.

He’s never been this close. You soak in the sight of him, a sharp gorgeous hawkish nose, aged wrinkles, soft touches of storm cloud greys floating among his chocolate curls. Heaven never looked more beautiful.

No words reach you. You can’t think of anything to say.

You don’t know who moves first, but a revelation comes when your lips surge to meet his.

It’s raw, consuming, rattling your bones.

You barely get to chase this greed, the taste of this man, before a searing pain cracks open your skull.

Your vision goes white. You don’t even know where you are.

Glimpses of home warm and welcoming, with a loving man and a wonderful daughter you’ve raised like your own, fill your mind.

Soon, the picture crystalizes clearer. The man driving, holding your hand. The young girl in the backseat laughing at something you said.

Then your world ends in fire.

The truth resurfaces you frantic and panicked, like emerging from the flood of ancient times. Blinking back into reality, everything is clear, pure as crystal.

Someone calls your name, and it sounds like home.

“Y’alright? Talk to me darlin’ please.” Joel begs frantically, still holding your face.

Darling, the word rips through you wild.

“Joel.” His name leaves you blessed and sanctified. You see him with eyes brand new.

The closest thing to a sob escapes you.

Confusion colors Joel’s face while you clutch onto him like a life raft.

You swallow hard.

“My old man… my husband.” You whisper.

You jokingly, affectionately, had started calling him ‘old man’ when he pulled his back after a job. Tommy and Sarah had laughed so hard at the nickname. Back then he was a few years older than you, but now…

Joel cracks. His face falls. Tears simmer in his eyes threatening to spill.

He kisses you again. This time it’s filled with an ache that draws you back from the grave.

The kiss grows heated fast. Desire explodes off Joel now and you want to drown in it. He licks into your mouth, pushing you against the door. You moan, sliding your hands into his hair.

Commotion returns outside interrupting the moment.

You growl annoyed.

Joel shushes you against your lips, yet his hands continue holding you tight.

Eventually you untangle out of his arms. Yet you feel like a newborn foal on shaky legs. Joel keeps you close the rest of the day. No one from the church thinks anything of it especially after what happened.

If only they saw you now.

Sprawled out in his bed, Joel devours your pussy and grinds into the sheets. You moan loud enough for all the angels to hear. He eats you starved, as if he’s found divine communion between your thighs.

“Need you inside, Joel please,” you beg, yanking at his grey curls.

Who is he to deny you, not just a demon of sin, but his wife?

Sliding into you, Joel feels like the beginning of the world, a Genesis life changing. It’s a lust that makes you melt, pure and dangerously addictive.

Joel’s lips stay attached to your skin, biting and licking every inch of you.

“Fallen Angel, light of God, you are crafted in beauty and loved.”

You remember that’s the prayer the nuns said. Now Joel whispers it reverently against your skin.

“Lost creature of heaven, you are found.”

You cum hard clutching at his shoulders. You worry about hurting him. Yet Joel bites at your skin like he’s the one now longing for your blood. You wonder if you and him could both dig into each other’s bones.

But once the passion finally simmers, and your poor husband needs to rest, the heavy reality sets in.

Naked in his arms, you know understand the strange passion and awareness Eve must have felt being in her husband’s arms after biting the forbidden fruit.

“You really sold your soul…” Joel mutters.

You sigh, rubbing your face into his warm strong chest.

“I didn’t care… I begged for anyone to save you or Sarah.” You whisper.

Your sweet sunshine girl.

Even without a heart, thinking of Sarah brings immeasurable pain. You mourn her with Joel, his arms becoming your sacred church.

—

“Sweetheart, ya need to eat,” Of course Joel notices how weary you’ve become.

“It’s okay… I’m fine.” And you’re half right. The desire unleashed between you and Joel helps maintain you enough. You wouldn’t dare devour his soul now. After all, there are other things you gladly want to consume from him.

You kiss the palm of his hand holding your face.

But ever the provider, ever the caretaker, your husband moves his hand down to your lips. His fingers trace your mouth. His eyes darken, and your body hums wanting him again.

“Bite me.” He mutters.

You bluntly tell him no.

“Do it or I’ll exorcise your ass.” His words hold no threat.

“Come on baby,” he adds, a soft purr, your personal temptation.

You’re worried. Worried if you bite you won’t be able to stop. You don’t want to hurt him.

Joel’s hand returns to cradle your face, stroking your cheek tenderly. He whispers your name.

“You won’t hurt me.” He’s always been able to read your mind.

It’s why he draws your face to his neck, the perfect spot to hide beneath his robes. Reverently you kiss his skin thanking him, then your teeth sink in as gently as you can.

His blood rushes into your mouth tasting of salvation. Your mind shuts off, instantly consumed by him. You lick and suck, pouring your devotion into this man. You moan or maybe it’s Joel. Because the way his hips grind seeking release, he’s drunk on this too.

This is the ecstasy saints dream of, a holy feast of unbelievable bliss that has you coming untouched.

This is your sacred sacrament you would die for.

—

“My husband, the priest.” You snicker watching him get ready.

You hate how incredibly sexy it is watching him slide the white collar on.

“Well, my wife’s a demon.” He smirks.

“I think there’s an actual shirt that says that.” You wonder.

Joel rolls his eyes and you laugh.

Kissing him before he heads to mass is pure sinful bliss. It only gets worse when you visit his office. Closing the door, Joel sits at his desk raising an eyebrow seeing you.

You make it known why you’re here when you sink onto your knees between his legs.

Nuzzling against his thigh, a possession overtakes. Joel’s hand runs to your face.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.” You mutter peering up at him.

His thumb swipes across your lips, and his eyes melt into dark pools. Especially when you slide his thumb into your mouth and suck, moaning at the taste of his skin. Your teeth ache to bite him, taste him like you did again this morning.

“Y’look like fuckin’ sin.” He mumbles, but rapidly draws your face up closer to him.

“Gonna be my good girl and keep quiet?” He asks leaning down to kiss you, meeting you halfway. Nodding, your hands fly to his belt.

A knock on the door comes. Joel cusses sharp under his breath.

“Should let your secretary walk in and see us like this.” You grin.

He shushes you.

“Next time let’s try to fuck in a confessional.” You mutter against his lips.

“Little fuckin’ trouble maker.” He growls, a beast that you welcome with open arms.

Later, in the witching hours, you wander around Joel’s living room. You spot a photo of you, him, and Sarah at Halloween the one year she dressed up as a power ranger princess.

Warm strong arms suddenly wrap around you from behind.

Joel’s gorgeous nose nuzzles against your face.

“You don’t mind… that I’m like this and not like how I used to be.” A shadow frozen forever, a creature condemned to hell.

He places the softest kiss on your cheek.

“Ain’t who I used to be either. M’old now.” He mutters.

“You’re hotter than ever.” You tell him firmly, and Joel snorts amused.

Shifting in his arms you embrace Joel tight.

“I’m a selfish demon now. You’re the only one who can get rid of me.” Both figuratively and literally.

“Like hell I ain’t.” Joel replies firmly, inhaling your scent.

“Besides, ‘m not so holy anymore.” He adds.

“Are you okay with that?” The question escapes you quiet, small and worried.

“Wouldn’t fuckin’ change it.” It’s the last thing he says before he dives in to kiss you.

Maybe in another life you would’ve been blessed to be Joel’s wife, pure and human, would’ve grown old with him…maybe even adopted a cat like Sarah had been begging.

Heaven will never greet you. So you hold this version of it tight in your hands.

You used to wonder why you had wandered to this specific town. Now everything aligns. A piece of you was trying to return to your other half, the love of your life.

Walking into the cemetery, you find your husband again praying at his favorite spot.

That’s when you finally notice a small memorial plague against the tree. Walking towards it, you read what’s on it.

There’s a scripture verse…then Sarah’s name and yours below it.

An emotion too powerful to describe swells in you.

Done with his prayer and alone in the cemetery, Joel soothingly now rubs his hand against your back.

“Let’s head home, sweetheart.” He mutters, your home and salvation.

A particular line from the exorcism rites suddenly comes to mind -

Lost creature of heaven, you are found

As you head out of the graveyard by Joel’s side, you truly believe you are.

[byshens]

jealousy ── park sunghoon x fem! reader smut + mdni

warnings jealous sunghoon, jealous sex, unprotected sex (dont!), choking, mentions of jake ( he’s like the center of the dirty talk ), fingering (f), breeding, petnames (baby, angel, princess), slight overstimulation. lmk if i missed any.

notes not sure if i was able to fix all the typos when editing the post, so if you see any pls ignore, i’ll find them eventually ..

requests are open! word count 1 , 893

“don’t go see jake again.” sunghoon grumbled against your shoulder. he wasnt very fond of your new friend—even though that’s all jake was to you, a friend.

“don’t be jealous, hoon.” you jokingly replied, patting his leg. you could feel him shift behind you, your back fully pressed against his chest. “i’m not jealous.”

his tone sounded jealous for sure to you. which made you giggle, “is jake really a threat to you?” you asked turning your head to face him, but when you locked eyes with sunghoon your body froze. his face was stone cold, his eyes darker than usual and his grip tightened against your hip.

he coldly laughed, “a threat? he’s not even worth being called a threat.” which you could agree, jake’s fun and all, but he’s nothing like sunghoon. no one could replace him in your heart and he knew that too, but just for the fun of it, you decided to make some comments.

“he’s cute, though. has the prettiest face.” you hummed, turning your head back to face away from sunghoon, a sly grin against your lips as you listened to him breathe in slowly. you’ve been waiting to see sunghoon riled up, and now was your chance.

when he didnt say anything to that comment, you provoked him more. “how do you feel about threesomes? he could definitely join us one time.” sunghoon knew you liked the idea of having a third for sex, even having rules set down if it ever happened, but something about the third being jake just made sunghoon’s skin crawl.

“bet jake wouldnt even be able to make you cum,” sunghoon finally spoke, his breath lingering on the back of your neck, kisses that were light as feathers being placed against your skin.

your lips parted as you tried to keep your breathing steady, you were finally cracking sunghoon. you just needed to keep pushing. “no you dont think so? i think he’d do well, bet he’s pretty in all places, not just his face.” you giggled. the noise of you being happy while talking about such things just kept ticking sunghoon off, not liking how intrigued you seem with this idea of jake.

sunghoon’s hand found itself traveling down from your hips to the edge of your shorts. your breath hitched as he pushed his hand inside the fabric of your underwear, his fingers moving down to slowly rub at your clit, watching your face as it filled with shock then small pleasure.

“i think i should make jake just watch us. make him watch how well i fuck you, how you moan my name so loud the neighbors get tired of us.” sunghoon seethed, his finger testing the waters and dipping itself inside your warmth, not too surprised at how wet you were already.

you let out a whine, so quiet that sunghoon would’ve missed it if he we wasnt so close to you. “you’d like that, wouldnt you?” he laughed, dipping another finger into you before he started to thrust them. your legs opening wider for him, allowing his fingers to reach deeper.

“hoon..” you breathed out, your head turning to face him again and he instantly took your lips against his, devouring your mouth in a heated kiss, his pace of his hand quickening which made you twitch against him, a moan escaping between the kiss.

i finally got him. you thought to yourself as you tried to roll your hips against his fingers, only causing him to pull them out. you pulled away from the kiss with a whine of protest at his action, only making him slap your thigh.

“let me show you what jake wont ever get.” he growled, throwing the blankets off the both of you and placing you in the middle of the bed. he took the hems of your shorts and underwear and pulled them down, taking them off you.

you watched his every move. the coldness in his eyes made your stomach flip, you knew sunghoon was a bit jealous sometimes, but seeing how it can play out was something new. you were snapped back to reality when you heard his belt, watching as he started to take off his own bottoms.

he tapped your thighs twice which let you know to spread your legs for him. once he slipped out of his own pants and boxers, he positioned himself before your entrance. you gasped, he never usually went right for it, he usually prepped you. “hoon wait..“ your voice breaking. before you could finish your sentence sunghoon was already pushing himself inside your heat.

“fuck,” he groaned, watching as his cock was sucked in by your walls. the wet noise your cunt was making drove him crazy, he knew he would never let jake get his for himself. this was all for him, only he could make you this wet and needy.

once he finally bottomed out, you thought he would be his usual gentle-ish self, but you were wrong. the second he bottomed out, he pulled right back out and slammed into you. this made your body jolt up, your hands scrambling to find his back. “sunghoon! wait—“ you pled, only to be cut off by a loud moan as he did it again.

his pace was fairly slow, but the roughness of his thrusts made your skin feel like its on fire. each pound into you got him deeper, his hands going down to force your legs to stay open, his nails getting into the skin on your thighs. “fuck, baby.” he moaned, watching as your face filled with pleasure.

“faster, please.” you begged. the slowness of his thrusts driving you insane, but sunghoon wasnt about to give you what you wanted, no. after you had teased him with those thoughts about jake? no he wasnt going to give in.

“take it how i give it to you,” he growled, though he did quicken his pace by just a bit, it wasnt as fast as you wanted, it was barely above the speed he was going beforehand. your mind was clouded with pleasure still, back arching off the bed with each time he slammed into your heat, only causing him to slide in deeper and hit all the spots you needed.

eventually sunghoon got tired of trying to keep that slow pace and when you finally seemed like you got used to his rhythm, he sped up. your eyes shot open again and dug your nails into his back. sunghoon’s hand going to wrap around your neck and squeeze down gently, pushing you back into the mattress as he pounded into you.

“fuck! please, please!” you cried out, watching sunghoon’s face fill with pleasure that only you could give him. his lips letting moans escape every few seconds. you knew he loved being inside you, how your pussy just seemed to fit perfectly for his cock.

“bet—bet jake cant fuck you like i can.” he grumbled, his speed picking up some more, ruthlessly tearing apart your warmth, the wet noises of your neediness filling the room. you loved this new side of sunghoon, your hand going to sit ontop of his that was wrapped around your neck, making him squeeze tighter around it.

“n—no he cant! only you can..” you moaned back at him through broken gasps, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, which messed up his rhythm a bit but neither of you complained. sunghoon leaned down to capture your lips into another kiss, his teeth nibbling at your lip to let him inside, which you happily gave in, letting his tongue force its way inside your mouth.

sunghoon pulled away from your mouth and let himself slip out of your cunt, which earned a whine as you suddenly felt empty. he flipped you over so now you were on your knees and pressed into the bed. sunghoon then forced himself back inside you, having you jump forward.

his hands gripped your hips tightly to keep you in place as he found his quick speed again, mumbling out curses everytime he hit the deepest parts of you he could, watching everytime how your ass would react to his hips snapping forward.

your mind was filled with how good he felt, how well he was treating you even though he was rough. a loud moan left your lips as you felt a smack on your ass, turning your head to try and see him, which was a bit hard due to your face being pushed into the pillows.

“you feel so good, fuck, princess.” sunghoon moaned, the praise going straight to your cunt which made you clench against his cock, his hips stuttering for a moment before finding his pace again. “god, dont do that. i’ll cum too soon.” he said, his mind getting foggy as well.

“hoon—i’m close..” you moaned out, feeling the knot in your stomach getting tighter with each thrust, your legs slightly trembling at staying up. your fingers clawing into the sheets as he fucked you, needing some kind of support. “cum for me, baby.”

and you did. you came all over his cock, having it drip down your thigh as he fucked you through your release. but he wasnt done, he fastened his pace and held your hips as close as he could to his thrusts, “fuck baby i’m gonna cum,” he moaned, his thrusts getting sloppier as he got closer to his own climax.

“cum inside me, hoonie..” you desperately whined, all of the overstimulation hitting you at once, but you were too immersed in the pleasure to really care, the feeling of sunghoon hitting every right spot as your cunt was tightly wrapped around him made you feel fuzzy.

sunghoon’s hips stuttered at the request, he always loved filling you up, watching how you took his cum like it was an everyday task (which it kind of was). “i’m gonna fill you up, baby. make sure your walls are stained with me.” he growled, one of his hands going to wrap around your throat again, pulling you up to be against his chest.

he came with a loud moan of your name, his teeth sucking harshly on your neck as he filled you up. a satisfied moan leaving your lips as you felt yourself fill up with his cum, always loving how it felt to be claimed once again by him.

once sunghoon fucked himself off his high with your cunt, he gently placed you back against the bed, his thrusts slow to not overwhelm you again. “you did so well for me, princess.” his voice was soft now, full of love again as he kissed your temple, slowly pulling himself out.

he leaned back on his heels as he watched your cunt drip with his cum, the white color of his markings along with your beautiful skin was a sight he always enjoyed. he got off the bed to clean you up while you felt yourself drift off to sleep, feeling too tired to do anything else.

and when sunghoon was finished cleaning everything up, he laid back in bed with you and cuddled you close to his chest, his fingers brushing your hair as you snored softly, “goodnight, my angel.” he whispered before he also drifted off to sleep, holding you close.

notes lowkey wouldnt mind doing a part 2 with jake involved … but only if it’s requested 🫶. ty for reading !

© byshens. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, plagiarize, or post onto another platforms without my consent.

[pretzelwrites]

THE COLONEL'S INSPECTION - PT 2 .

summary: following the encounter with caleb in part one, you have a power struggle ending with him taking matters into his own hands once again.

warnings: nsfw (18+, minors dni), smut with plot, dubcon, bratty virgin!reader, caleb alternates between being mean as hell and sweet, very sensitive/responsive reader, caleb and reader argue at the beginning, a sprinkle of dumbification, squirting, this is genuine filth, unprotected piv, creampie, praising, implied size difference, lots of pet names, they really don’t give a damn about the plates or grandma’s table apparently, caleb talks you through it, actually caleb doesn’t shut up ever. lots of petnames including gege, pipsqueak, honey, baby, and good girl. use of y/n.

characters: caleb from love and deepspace (post-explosion with some edits), afab!mc reader. everyone is in their twenties.

wc: 2.9k

author’s note: biiiig thank you for all the love on part one, and i’m sorry this took awhile to update! 

*if you missed it, you can read part one here.

tags: @mcdepressed290 @petulapetula @sylvieisoffline @boonbyu @kithyyy @kayylebb

caleb left you sitting in your bitter silence to heat up dinner. your thighs are squeezed shut, fists balled up on their softness, huffing and puffing through tight lips. you wanted to curse caleb, beat him, strangle him—  but the memory of his authentic grin quelled your anger each time you tried to condemn him. you hadn’t realized just how much you needed to see that smile until then. 

as the seconds bled into minutes, the air filled with rich smells drifting in from the kitchen. caleb claimed to only be heating up leftovers but you heard chopping, along with the scent of something fresh and earthy. when he returns, he’s expertly balancing multiple dishes: a large leafy salad, braised chicken with eggplant, perfectly steamed rice, dumplings, smashed cucumbers… and even homemade strawberry mochi. 

it was practically a feast of all your favorites. 

“i know you prefer matcha mochi, but it’s too late for caffeine. don’t wantcha up all night...” his words are punctuated by a clink of each dish as they’re placed at the center of the table in an enticing arrangement fit for a magazine spread. if you weren’t so upset, you would’ve been drooling. 

caleb immediately grabbed the empty plate in front of you and began loading it up with food. you watched him with your jaw clenched, biting the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood. this was a normal occurrence for the two of you, as bizarre as it seemed in hindsight. you couldn’t remember a time when caleb didn’t prepare your food from start to finish. 

this usually made you feel safe, supported… but now it was just another example of your stolen autonomy and the inherent dominance he had over you. 

“i don’t like eggplant.” you blurted just as the serving spoon hovered over your plate with a heaping amount of it. caleb laughed incredulously, “huh? is that some sort of joke, pipsquea-”

“i said, i. don’t. like. it.” you reiterated much more harshly. you didn’t care that it was obviously a lie, you were just scrambling for a sense of control wherever you could find it. the edges of caleb’s smile tilted downward, and for a beat you expect him to force you into eating it, but the eggplant makes its way onto his plate instead. 

it was hard to tell who’s more at fault for the suffocating atmosphere after he returned to his seat across the table. your hands remain planted on your lap, not even bothering to acknowledge the food despite your growing hunger. meanwhile, caleb was carrying on like everything was normal, devouring his meal with hums of satisfaction. unsurprisingly, he was the one to break the silence. “this may be harsh, but that artist tara loves is sort of a joke to me. he’s one of those guys that just throws paint on a canvas and calls it art. what did you think?”  

silence. 

caleb swallowed a mouthful of chicken before starting up again, this time trying a different angle: flattery wrapped up in nostalgia. “that dessert spot you two chose was delicious. actually, it kinda reminds me of that place we used to visit back home. you remember, don’t you? the one where you got scared by that fluffy white dog, and i had to hold your hand all the way home?” 

more silence. 

this got the point across for caleb— you weren’t just going to let what happened that night be forgotten like he hoped. he placed his chopsticks down on the table and propped his head up against his fist, all while never losing sight of you. 

“…you’re upset with me?” 

“what the hell do you think?” your retort was scathing, delivered through gritted teeth. 

he is visibly taken aback by your outburst, but it doesn’t take long until his irritation morphs into a forced smile. caleb’s long fingers tapped against the table impatiently, as if your disobedience was merely an inconvenient chore that he needed to get over with.

“i did what i had to do. that’s what i always do to protect you.”

the insinuation that any of this was for any reason other than his own selfish desires, was enough to send you over the edge. your plate of food soars across the table, aimed squarely at his head. he doesn’t jump, or even blink, still maintaining that harrowing look while a glass plate topped with hot chicken barrels toward him. your ‘weapon’ of choice hit a barrier just a foot from his face, suspended like a floating mosaic by his evol. 

“fine, you want this to be a bad night? then we can have a bad night.” caleb rose from his chair in a flourish, the plate and food crashing to the table at the same time. only his own food wasn’t contaminated by the broken glass that scattered everywhere. 

shit.

the wet ache between your legs worsened with each step he took towards you. you knew you needed to put an end to this before it escalated beyond something you two could come back from. you couldn’t be ‘inspected’ by him again, or else you’d risk revealing how deeply you desired him. your eyes darted around the room to search for something— an exit, a means of defense— anything to throw a wrench in his plans. 

unfortunately for you, any distance is closed within seconds. in one swift move, caleb pulled you up from your chair by your wrists, hoisting you up in his arms. he carried you back to his seat where you’re placed on his muscled thighs.

“you can be pissed at me all you want, but you’re going to eat a proper meal regardless. you’ve only had alcohol and greasy food since you got here.” he wasn’t wrong, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction by outright admitting it. your lips pursed into a slim line, resorting to the silent treatment once again. with a small sigh, caleb’s steady hand scoops up a piece of chicken, including eggplant, and brings the food to your lips. 

“open,” he ordered.

that’s it? you thought, he just wants to feed me? 

you turn your head away with your nose lifted in an act of exaggerated disgust. “are you out of it? i already told you, i don’t like-” 

sudden cold firmly captured your chin to turn your face back toward him, forcing you to confront the strictness you knew all too well.

“Y/N, enough.” was all he needed to say to put an end to whatever confidence you had. your pout opened just wide enough for him to slide a mouthful inside. caleb repeats this motion, picking up the leftover food from his plate and feeding it to you bite by bite. the combination of sitting on his lap and being forced to eat would’ve been completely humiliating if not for the way it filled you with warmth. 

after twenty minutes, he stopped. 

“it’s strange, you've never fought me like this before…” he paused to swipe a crumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “even when you’re the most disobedient, you usually come around. yet, now it seems like you doubt my ability to guide you.” caleb muttured bitterly, his other hand absentmindedly trailed up your leg, nearing the folded hem of your dress. your mind flooded with rated thoughts, brought on by the lightest of touch. 

“i- huh?” while you were finding it embarrassingly difficult to stay angry and focused on the moment. yet, it didn’t look like he noticed your squirming at all. 

he continued, “you call me your gege, but you expect me to let you do whatever you want even if it’s reckless. i’m supposed to guide you, and i don’t plan to stop just because you’re naive enough to think you know better. if you think you’re going to keep secrets from me and blahblahblah…” his voice faded into nothing. you were far too entranced by the sight of his hand, knowing that those fingers had been inside you in a way no one else’s had. caleb’s hand stalled, snapping you out of your trance. 

“Y/N, are you paying attention?”

“what? n-no, why should i?” you huffed, flicking strands of hair out of your face that got misplaced during the scuffle. once again, caleb’s unrelenting gaze took apart every inch of you until there was nothing left except the truth you refused to admit. 

“you’re throwing a fit because i left you unsatisfied, is that the issue?” your already blushed skin reddened to a fiery red hue as he scrutinized you. 

“…no?”  you said without an ounce of believability. 

a moment of awkward, almost painful, silence descended as the two of you sit in the revelation. caleb’s face betrayed little emotion besides contemplation, and you couldn’t help but worry if you officially crossed the point of no return. 

you’re mentally preparing another poor excuse when caleb’s lips are suddenly pressed against yours for a light, chaste kiss— probing the validity of your words in the most direct manner. you didn’t fight him, you didn’t even give into shock, instead you met his kiss with far more intensity. 

while your eyes are closed, lips still locked together, you can hear the table being cleared with a burst of energy. the plates and dishes fall to the ground with a loud, scattering crash.

caleb’s shirt is discarded on the floor next to your dress and panties in a bundled heap of soft floral print and white. at some point, between him hoisting you onto the table and slotting himself between your legs, he stripped you completely nude and himself shirtless. 

his was a chest you’d seen bare plenty of times in the past, but this wasn’t the same as your friendly trips to the beach or afternoons spent spectating his basketball practice. this was new, far more thrilling and irresistible. unconsciously, you placed your hand on his chest, sliding it down over his muscled abdomen to the whisper of hair peeking out just above the waist of his jeans. this earned a smile from caleb, who found the lustful look in your eye utterly delicious. 

“god, you're perfect.” he murmured under his breath. you’re wide open for him, panting, desperate— your pretty pussy completely vulnerable and begging to be fucked. it was better than any fantasy, any wet dream that he entertained through his years of repression. caleb made quick work of removing his belt and unbuttoning his pants, allowing his length to spring out of its confines. 

water filled your mouth at the sight of his flushed tip, dripping with pre-cum. he slowly slid a hand under your knee, holding open while he slotted his tip between your lips. you inhaled sharply as he smeared his slick over your engorged clit, trailing down your glistening folds, and stopping just outside your entrance. 

even without much pressure against your tightness, you couldn’t help but tense up. he was big, much bigger than you thought he’d be. sharing a house all those years apparently didn’t prepare you for anticipating his size, and you were having doubts. besides, was it really a good idea to lose your virginity to caleb on your grandmother’s table? 

“er, w-wait-” you stammered.

“hm?” caleb stopped but his tip remained pressed against your core, just a centimeter away from penetration. “why, what’s wrong?” 

“i… you’re way too big for my first.” 

“oh, i see...” his grip on your legs loosened ever so slightly, but he still didn’t move. 

“well, it’s like i said before, my role in your life is always to protect you, give you guidance…” he kissed your skin between every other word, starting from your shoulder and traveling up the tender skin of your throat. “sometimes it’s about understanding when to stop-” caleb’s lips just barely graced your’s now, allowing your heavy breaths to intertwine. “and sometimes, it’s about knowing when you need to be brave and push yourself.” your eyes widened in a stroke of recognition of his next move. 

“deep breath, honey.” caleb’s thick member pressed past the tightness of your body slowly, stretching you out inch by inch. his cock was so heavy and warm, you could feel every vein that throbbed inside of you. it felt nothing like your fingers, or his own— no, this stretch bordered on completely overwhelming. his mouth crashes into your’s to muffle your whimpers with his searing kiss, swallowing up your panicked sounds.

“f-fuck, gege-” you hissed against his lips, your delicate features contorting. 

“shh, it’s alright. you’ll get used to it in a minute.” gently, he squeezed the flesh of your hips to encourage you to release some of the tension stored in your inexperienced body. “c’mon, pips, open up for me...” a shudder raced through you, pulling the last bit of energy from your already weakened form. still, you try to do as he said and relax slightly, just enough not to be so taut. your cunt, soaked with far too much arousal and less tension, swallowed him up greedily. his hips shift again while his hands switch to pressing against your legs, allowing him to sink much deeper. 

“good girl,” a low approving hum rumbled in caleb’s throat. he carefully pulled out of you, leaving only the tip. “who would’ve thought you’d get so excited just from one little scolding... don’t tell me you like when i’m rough with you?”

“shut u-uuummphh…” he snapped forward just in time to shut you up, drawing out a ragged moan from the depths of your throat. 

“i guess i’ve got my answer, huh?” your slick created squelching noises with every soft thrust, filling the room with a lewd melody of your pleasure. “when we’d come back home for the holidays, i’d hear you playing with yourself through the wall. back then, i thought you just enjoyed teasing me, but- hah… now i see you get a lil’ dumb when your pussy gets some attention. you probably didn’t even realize how loud you were being, poor thing.” 

caleb repositioned you into the butterfly position, slinging your legs over his shoulders to pound as deep as he wanted. he graces an unfamiliar spongy spot that forces mewls out of you each time. “make sure to breathe, baby…” his voice manages to cut through the deafening buzz of your pleasure and you force yourself to take more controlled breaths. his thrusts slow again, focused on hitting your spot. your legs tremble under his weight, hips bucking but not able to shift away from the sensation. “that’s your sweet spot,” caleb explained, his tongue slipping out to trace along your quivering bottom lip. “feels good, doesn’t it?”

“oh my f-fucking god, c-caleb-”

hearing his name on your tongue eliminates any bit of mercy left in him. caleb’s thumb finds your clit, tracing circles at increasing speed aligned with the drive of his hips. your body becomes taut again, rigid from the unfamiliar sensation. but it doesn’t stop him this time, barrelling forward into your walls at an almost brutal pace. you can hear that your cunt is getting wetter, louder, and the feeling in the pit of your stomach feels different than any orgasm you had before.

“w-wait, shiiit! stop, i-i think ‘m gonna explode-”

“i know, i can feel it. go ahead, let go.” 

“but- what if it gets on the t-table?!” 

“gran’s not here to scold us, is she?” he grunted, never stopping his assault on your sensitive spots despite your plea. 

with one more thrust, you feel yourself break. your eyes seek refuge in the back of your head as your orgasm pierces through your body. a surge of essence races out of you, covering caleb’s cock and the antique wood below you with a stream of squirt. it comes in rounds— each time making you convulse a little more harshly. the only reason you didn’t twitch yourself off the table was because the weight of caleb’s body kept you still and wide open for him. 

you look divine, the soft sheen of sweat from your two intertwined bodies giving you a glow as if you were lit from within. your lips parted, crying his name so sweetly, like you’re teetering on the edge of completely losing yourself. “fuck, look at you-” he moaned, lining kisses along your jawline. “you’re so beautiful, even when you’re falling apart on my dick. shit-” you’re suddenly filled to the hilt, his balls tensing against your skin as he erupted deep inside of you. you choked out a whine, back arching up from the table as you tried to process the feeling of being impossibly full like this. rope after rope of hot seed spills from his tip plunged within you, ensuring that your cunt is forced to take every drop no matter how swollen you feel.

after what feels like eternity there, he finally (and reluctantly) pulls out. the two of you are left in the haze of your coupling as you slowly come down from your high. your regrounding is slow, with your body completely fucked out and your thoughts scattered, it’s hard to even open your eyes again.

of course, caleb noticed.

“pipsqueaaak…” he cooed while his fingertips playfully danced on your forehead, calling you back to the present. “you still with me?” 

“…mmm.” your lips curved into a hazy smile, one that looked aloof and unguarded. caleb’s chest swelled with affection. 

he chuckled softly, “good.” 

[iovesentry]

something in my eye

robert reynolds/bob x reader

summary: you were baking something for the team, hands covered in flour and all until something got stuck in your eye.

warning(s): curse word, smooching in the tower hehe, thats about it!

A/N: this is my first time writing, so apologies for the wonky story! but i do hope you guys like it 🥹

It was surprisingly a quiet afternoon in the tower. No assigned tasks, no annoying phone calls from Valentina, and no mayhem occuring in the city. You decided to occupy yourself by baking. You’ve got to admit, it has been ages since you last baked—but you weren’t so bad at it—and the tower had the supplies you needed.

You opened up your iPad and searched up a recipe for red velvet cupcakes. You hoped the team would enjoy it, but after spending almost a year with them, you know they’d devour it in minutes.

After successfully mixing the dry ingredients in the bowl, you suddenly felt something inside your eye. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath while you looked at your flour-covered hands. Hearing footsteps approaching the kitchen, you sigh in relief when you see Bob.

But here’s the thing. You’ve been kinda crushing on Bob for like the past 5 months, but you never really did anything about it, the shyness always overtaking your senses. Little did you know, Bob also liked you too. Always being so caring and sweet when you’re around. It’s painfully obvious to the team that you both have feelings for each other, but you both are so oblivious—and you both also think you’re way out of each others leagues.

“Hey Bob.” You greeted Bob with your left eye closed and your right eye tearing up. You couldn’t rub your eye since it was covered in flour.

“Hey, you alright there? What happened?” He walked up to you and quickly examined your face, cupping your cheeks and looked for anything that could be bothering you.

“Yeah no, I think I got something in my eye. Can you blow on it?” He took a hold of your face much better and blew on your eye. Turns out it was just a stray lash.

“Oh thank goodness you’re here. Thanks Bob.” You realized he was still holding your face in his hands. Holding you so gently, his eyes looking at you so adoringly.

“How are you so… beautiful?” His question sounded so sincere, it made your stomach flutter.

Your hair was a mess, makeup probably smudged, flour all over your face, and the messy apron. But he still thinks you’re beautiful. A thousand thoughts are rushing through your mind right now, you can't comprehend how close you are to your crush, and he just called you beautiful!

“Bob, I’m probably a mess right now.” You chuckled, suddenly getting shy.

“A mess or not, you’re beautiful.” He tucks away a strand of hair behind your ear, noticing the red tint on your cheeks.

“I sorta have a crush on you, you know.” You confessed, covering your face even though your hands were covered in flour. He could see the smile behind your hands and he quickly removed them so he could see your face.

“Can I… kiss you?” He asked so innocently, how could you say no?

Your lips immediately made contact, a slow, passionate, and sweet kiss shared. You threw your arms around his neck and pushed him closer, his arms automatically snaking around your waist. You eventually parted to catch your breaths, foreheads touching, a sweet smile plastered on his face.

“Ha! I knew it!” Yelenas loud, booming voice immediately made both of you distance each other—even though you were already caught—and stare at each other awkwardly.

“You say a word about this and I won’t share my cupcakes with you.” Bob chuckled at your attempt on making Yelena keep a secret, but knowing her, she’ll slip up eventually.

“O-kay!” She saluted you and quickly left the room, leaving both you and Bob alone again.

“Well… do you wanna help me out here? I mean, i’m nearly done. Just need to mix the wet and dry ingredients–” You were interrupted by another kiss from Bob, melting into his touch.

Who would’ve thought a stray lash that got into your eye would lead you to this? In the grasp of your crush? Well, luck was on your side today.

[tojisun]

participating on WIP Wednesday because this fic has been sitting in my drafts for months now

!! poly!141 x reader; established john price x reader; f!reader

Their Captain introduces you to them, cinnamon in his eyes and his words honeyed. Your name settles on the tip of their tongues, waiting to be digested. To be sounded out by their own voices.

Simon murmurs it to himself, feels the word sliding between the cracks of his teeth like milk, and gulps it down, starving. It fuels him, this little piece he now has of you, and sets him ablaze as you flutter between them with gentle questions and quiet giggles.

You are soft—too soft for any of them, in fact—but they can see why their Captain is enamoured, his own desire greater than their own. It is intense as it scalds down their spines and jagged because their Captain isn’t a good man, they all aren’t, but there is something disconcerting in the way their Captain had claimed you. 

It was rushed, sweet to a fault, but done so rapidly it felt like a beast pouncing on its prey. Like their Captain had seen the beauty of your soul and decided, then, that you’re all his.

Simon washes down the taste of defeat in his mouth with his shot of whiskey, mentally dedicating this drink to his Captain because he knows he would’ve done the same.

He would’ve kept you in a house just as cozy; would've played house with you to distract you from the foulness of his virtues because kindness, civilian to that extent, is so foreign to them now. He would keep you full of him, satiated with his presence and dripping with his cum—

“Sweetheart, c'mere.” Their Captain’s voice pierces the staccato of his thoughts. Simon twitches, suppressing the full-body jolt because there’s something measured in the way their Captain called you. 

They watch as you pad towards him with a hum, a bounce in your steps, before reaching to cup his cheek the moment you get close. 

“Hi,” you murmur, a breath too quiet.

Their Captain chuckles, basking in your warmth, before curling an arm around your waist and tugging you to his lap. You fall with a little gasp, your hand tight on Price’s shirt as your eyes swing to them in surprise.

“John, they–” 

Price kisses the back of your shoulder, fixing his arm over your stomach. “They won’t mind.” Dark eyes turn to them too. “Would you, boys?”

They feel parched. Thirst palpable in the way they have their jaws clenched, their tongues heavy inside their mouths. They devour the pretty sight you make—all bashful looks and hunched shoulders, looking so utterly soft, so charmingly fragile, atop their Captain’s lap.

It sets off their primal instincts, their desires ravaging their sanities.

“No,” Gaz is surprisingly the one to reply. His voice was smooth and clear, bouncing against the walls with surety. “Don’t mind at all.”

There must be something in the way Gaz was looking at you or perhaps you were also able to hear the unabashed want coating his words, but whatever it was, it made you sit up straighter, head tilted to the side, thinking. 

Considering.

It makes all of them jolt, even Price feels a stirring inside his jeans at the sudden shift in your posture, because this changes everything.

It was not that they would be satisfied with only having a look, with only seeing what they want and pretending that their thoughts—dirty and ragged and full of filth—are enough to satiate the fire stoking deep inside, but they didn’t want to set off their Captain. They didn’t want to meet the beast inside the man’s eyes, and be further punished by having you be taken from their reach.

Because the moment they crossed that little door, the moment you smiled up at them and told them that they’re welcome in your quaint little home, in your space, you were theirs.

And their Captain would just have to deal with that.

But Price is already looking at them with crinkled eyes, his lips busy as it drags all over the expanse of your shoulder, his palm gentle as it rubs over your stomach. 

Kyle takes it for what it is—a permission.

[sukunasweetheart]

to satiate, seduce, and to sin.

HEED THE WARNINGS; fem!reader, half human(?) and half snake sukuna, its highkey yandere, mentions of eating people, DUBCON elements, dacryphilia, degradation, HEAVY smut, breeding, cum inflation, use of threats, squeezing/constricting, brainwashing, manipulation, body modification, trueform sukuna (two dicks), mentions of pregnancy and lactation.

Word count: 5k+

sorry guys, i kind of went all out with this one...

you are a researcher, and you’re looking for a rare specimen that most have assumed has disappeared or simply never existed in the first place. but recently, a few traces of activity from one has arisen, and you’re on the case to try and find him before he vanishes without a trace again. unfortunately for you, you decided to embark on this journey during the heat of his mating season... which leads you to making an interesting deal with him.

snake hybrids are and always has been extremely rare as a species - you’ve only seen them in books and blurry images. the information obtained on them - diet, habitat, behaviour - are also mostly just speculations. how they reproduce is shrouded in mystery. despite being half snake, they are much, much biologically different from actual snakes. many believe they are just a fabricated species.

you however, are confident that they are real, and that they’re still around somewhere. pursuing your passion for them, you’ve started another one of your many solo expeditions in search of any clues, or hopefully, one of them in the flesh.

and in this current one, you’ve seemed to hit a jackpot. you’ve been following this enormous snake trail for hours now. you’re really close to finding him, you’re certain.

after another hour or so of walking, a large cave can be sighted a good distance away, to your excitement. you tread carefully through the dirt, dead leaves and tree bark on the ground, making your way towards it.

standing at the entrance to the cave, you hesitate for a moment, heart thumping wildly. you’re so close. this could be a groundbreaking discovery, or it could be another false lead. you’re unable to see the other end of the cave at all, due to how ominously pitch black it is inside. good thing you brought a flashlight with you.

you put your backpack onto the ground and take it out, turning it on and off a couple of times to make sure that it was working. good as new. putting your backpack on again, you take in a deep breath before beginning to carefully make your way inside.

it’s awfully quiet. that’s usually a bad sign.

and if it weren’t for your flashlight, you would’ve needed a lot of time to let your eyes adjust to this darkness, as there’s little to no light that reaches into this cave. your footsteps echo against the walls, the noise bouncing off and heading down further, catching the attention of something lurking within the deepest end of this cave.

“hello?” you say boldly, letting your voice ring out, reaching out to whatever might be sitting in the dark before you. no answer.

you continue your walk, pointing your light towards the walls occasionally, and then the path in front of you to make sure you didn’t trip over anything. with every step, you start to feel more afraid. what if there’s nothing here? what if this whole trip and the expenses and the time you spent was all for naught? the thought of going back empty handed makes your stomach sink.

you halt altogether when your light falls upon something on the ground. a small creature...? no... it looks like...

the end of a large snake’s tail. 

in the blink of an eye, something wraps around your whole body tightly, rendering you completely immobile. your eyes widen and a frightened yelp escapes your throat, but you’re still holding on tight to your flashlight. a deep voice resounds in your ears, a voice that sounds so human.

“look at what’s wandered aimlessly into my den. a free meal. did you come in hopes to get devoured?”

you do your best to point your flashlight towards the source of the voice.

a man that has his arms crossed... looking closer, he has an extra pair that rests at his sides. a large mouth on his stomach. and from his waist down, he has the body of a snake. he stares down at you, amused. his giant tail coils tighter around you, noticeably more around the swell of your chest.

“...and a woman, no less. what do you want?”

your eyes continue to wander around his features, taking note of everything that stands out to you. glowing red eyes-- and just like his extra arms, he has extra eyes too! they’re a lot smaller than his main ones, however. oh, you’re so curious and ecstatic. so many extra features nobody had thought this hybrid would have.

“answer my question, vermin. who do you think you’re dealing with here? i’ll crush you until you’re choking on your own blood,” he spits harshly, wrapping around you tightly. you’ve come at a bad time. 

he’s in a rather sensitive mood right now, being so...pent up.

“i-i apologise... i’m a researcher. i’ve come this way to look for you,” you begin to speak carefully. “i wanted to prove your existence to the world. and it’s been a long while... but i’m finally here.”

he lets out an exasperated sigh. what a pathetic, insignificant goal you have. humans really love treading into places where they don’t belong, following their foolish curiosity, like a dog being lead around by its nose.

“i wanted an opportunity to observe you, if i may. just write some notes down... and a couple of pictures. would that be alright? please? it won’t take long at all.”

your eyes begin to wander again, being out of your control as you instinctively end up doing so, as if to prove sukuna right about your kind.

the scales of his tail... they have a very unique pattern to them, being adorned with beautiful shades of red and black. similar patterns run down his face and upper body as well. you’re itching to give him a sketch in your notebook. without thinking, you wriggle your arm out from his grasp and run your hand along them.

“ah... so magnificent. it feels exactly the same as a normal snake’s. i want to know more,” you mumble to yourself, loving the texture that runs underneath your fingers and palms. it makes him give a slight jolt, giving you a startle as you instantly take your hands off of him.

“i’m sorry! did that hurt? or...”

he narrows his eyes at you, staring into your innocent gaze as you blink back at him. a pleasant idea rises in his mind. his expression shifts into a gentler one, all too suddenly, as his tail loosens around you.

“...very well, then. i’ll let you observe me,” he relents, looking down at you with mischievous eyes.

“in exchange,” he very obviously gazes upon your physique lustfully, “your body is mine to use.”

being a rare species, its been a while since he’d had someone to breed with in the recent years. especially during mating seasons- it’s been frustrating, to say the least. he never thought he’d become so desperate as to resort to use a human for satisfaction, but he’ll take what he can get.

“huh?? i- well-” you begin to say, flustered by the sudden demand. your thoughts start racing, wondering if you were misunderstanding him, by any chance.

“do you mean...” 

“yes. i’m going to mate with you. although, humans can’t get pregnant from my seed. so there’s no need to be concerned about offspring.”

he says it so matter-of-factly that it startles you. you don’t want to know how he found out about that last bit of information... but you mentally jot down some notes about it anyway. so snake hybrids can’t crossbreed with humans despite being relatively similar in appearance... interesting...

you seem lost in thought again and sukuna grows impatient.

“so? what’ll it be?”

you shouldn’t agree to such an outrageous idea. it’s wrong, and... and researchers shouldn’t do such things with the subjects of their studies. and yet-

he notices you squeezing your thighs together, and grins. what an indecent woman. he’s never seen one so willing.

what can you do? you can’t afford to go back without any pieces of evidence. how would you prove your discovery? you fool yourself into thinking that you’re only doing this for the sake of your career.

“...alright. we have a deal,” you tell him meekly. you can also take this chance to find out more in depth information about... his reproductive system. what better way than to experience it yourself? ...you internally smack yourself in the face for that last part.

“where do you want to start?”

“i’d like to have a closer look at your upper body, please.”

his tail shifts to bring you closer to him. you make proper eye contact with him for the first time, and being so close to his face makes your heart thump faster. if you forget about the tail and all... he’s just a handsome looking man.

you grip onto your flashlight tightly. he has pretty eyes, too. you ask for his hand, and see that his nails are dark, and sharp. for someone who’s half-reptile, he feels oddly warm.

“i want to see your teeth next,” you tell him.

“don’t be surprised if i bite,” he responds, before opening up his mouth for you. you hope he’s only joking.

you inspect the inside closely, watching his snake tongue wriggle slightly, and his well-pronounced fangs that gleam as your light hits it. 

“are you venomous?”

“i can be. it depends.”

you ask him a series of questions, pushing your limits to get as much information as possible from him.

“and the mouth on your stomach?”

he brings you down so you can have a look for yourself. this one is much bigger, but pretty much has the same basic features as the first one. fascinating. when you touch the lower lip, he suddenly encloses your hand with his larger mouth. shocked, you gasp and retract your hand quickly, to find out that it is still intact. he chuckles sinisterly above you.

“p-please put me down so i can grab my things.”

he lets you go and you immediately begin taking various items out of your bulky backpack. you place your flashlight down onto the ground facing up, so that the light hits the roof of the cave and illuminates your surroundings a bit. you start off by writing down a few pages of notes.

...was a little hostile during the first interaction...communicates sufficiently in human language... was found resting in a cave...four eyes, and four arms, including an extra mouth on the stomach...

it was pages and pages worth of description, anything off of the top of your head. you’d have to rewrite and tidy it up later. a thought suddenly comes to mind.

“do you have a name?” you ask him.

“a well-asked question. i’ll have you pleading with the name ‘sukuna’ later on, once you’re done with all that,” he tells you arrogantly, watching as you scribble into your little notebook.

...the specimen goes by the name of ‘sukuna’.

next, you grab your polaroid camera and aim its lens towards sukuna.

“there’s gonna be a small flash of light,” you warn him.

“yes, i already know what those things do.”

the last guy that tried to take his pictures without asking first, suffered some nasty consequences. it was all for naught though, because he didn’t taste very good at all.

you take as many pictures as you please, and he patiently remains still as he promised. you take a look at the results and once you’re happy enough, you neatly set them aside and shove everything back into your bag. truth be told, your heart could leap out of your mouth right now, from how intensely it was beating.

you had felt his eyes resting upon you from behind the whole time, feeling the way he was watching your body with his lecherous gaze, undressing you with it. 

“all done?” he voices gently, voice dripping with sweet poison. nothing like the tone he’d used when you first arrived here.

“...yes. are- are we doing it straight away?” it was a stupid question to ask, but you felt the need to say something, anything.

"i might lose myself if i have to wait any longer,” sukuna confesses, slithering closer to you.

“wait! let me just- i’ll get myself undressed.”

you had a feeling that if he did it, he’d simply rip everything off your body. you need something to wear for the trip home. sukuna smirks at you.

“...go on, then. put on a show for me, will you?”

the phrasing flusters you immensely, but you work hard to make your trembling fingers work to unbutton yourself and unhook your bra yourself. your breasts bounce lightly with every movement, and sukuna watches with incredible restraint.

“nothing like watching a meal prepare itself in front of your eyes... it’s a shame you’re only here to satisfy my lust and not my hunger too.”

the thought of it sends a shiver down your spine.

you swallow on nothing as you avoid his eyes, taking your last bit of underwear off. you’re scared, but in a strangely arousing way. have you always been this perverted?

“i-i’m done...” you say with a small voice, instinctively attempting to cover yourself up to maintain some form of decency.

“wonderful. let’s start with a little taste, shall we?” 

sukuna picks you up effortlessly with his arms, and without any stalling, your pussy is pushed up directly against the mouth on his stomach, his hands placed on your ass to support you while you wrap your legs around his waist.

“i’ll need to get your holes nice and loose for me. better it be pleasure than pain, right?”

something wet and warm slithers out and rubs up on your sex.

you nod with gratitude, watching the large tongue in anticipation. your arms loop around the back of his neck, and you’re looking down as he laps at your clit, making you quiver against his strong grip that holds your hips in place.

you timidly moan, immersing yourself in the feeling of this once-in-a-lifetime cunnilingus, of this strange snake’s tongue that rubs up against your sensitive cunt without holding back. it slowly slips its way inside you, making your hips jump in surprise.

“you’re sopping wet. i don’t think i even need to do much for this one,” sukuna comments, enjoying your little reactions. you continue to only stare at the tongue going in and out of your hole. he cocks his head slightly to the side.

“why won’t you face me up here? afraid to meet my eyes?” he voices rather sulkily, lifting your head up by your chin. once you see his lustful expression, something in you throbs without control.

“hah! your hole’s clenching around me so lewdly. it’s being honest, unlike you.”

the focus seeps out from your gaze, and you begin to enjoy yourself.

“yes... you needn’t be so shy. relent yourself to me.”

he pulls your face in closer to his, and kisses you in a feverish manner, shoving his forked tongue into your mouth. you moan pleasantly against his lips, and one of his spare hands claws at your breasts, groping them without mercy.

his bigger tongue slips out of your sopping cunt, and sinks itself into your ass instead. the saliva it secretes does a good job at being a lubricant for it.

your own tongue savours the strange shape and texture of sukuna’s one - lapping up at his lips desperately, like you would to a lover. he likes your eagerness. his own cocks are beginning to throb and unsheathe from the slit on his lower half, unbeknownst to you.

something about you... is quite intriguing. timid and coy as you seem, you’re not hesitating to unmask your true desires; your obsession with his body. even now, you’re sucking on both his tongues with such greed, it’s hard not to be captivated.

when he breaks the kiss, a thick string of saliva still connects the two of you.

“a harlot, you are,” he tells you with a mean grin.

you look at him with teary, vulnerable eyes. the tongue that had been thrusting in and out of your ass slips out, leaving both of your holes twitching for more.

“i suppose you’re all set now,” sukuna tells you. he finally reveals his aching two cocks, twitching with the need for release.

so that’s where they come out from... they don’t look too different from a human’s, besides the ribbed tip-

“you like them? they’ll be sure to grant you a pleasure you’ll never feel from anyone else.”

you begin to brace yourself, your holes clenching around nothing. your chest rises and falls quicker, indicating your excitement.

he lines them up, and pushes them into you, at a steady pace. your body trembles, and sukuna has to keep you in place as you gasp and hold onto him for dear life. he stretches you so mercilessly. you feel him twitching inside you, as he forces his way against your clamping walls.

“haa...so tight. you fit me like a glove, sweetheart,” he pants, the term of endearment slipping out accidentally. perhaps he’s gone without mating for too long. he feels himself getting easily attached.

when he pushes the rest of himself in fully, reaching all the way, both of his cocks fit snugly inside and forms a bulge on your abdomen-- they press up against a certain spot within you and something seems to erupt in your mind. an unexpected orgasm rips through your body without warning.

you let a string of moans as you arch your back, your walls spasming around him as a result of this sudden climax.

if it were his normal self, he would’ve teased you harshly for reaching your high just from putting it in. but his current sensitivity causes him to also fall off the edge.

“f-fuck, if you keep squeezing me like that, i’ll-!”

sukuna grits his teeth, drool running down the side of his lips, as his cocks also begin to release-- giving him an intense orgasm for the first time in years. they pulse strongly inside of you, spilling spurt after spurt of his thick, hot cum, in large amounts.

he shudders against you, being lost in the pleasure, and begins to lift you up and down, using you like a fleshlight even while he’s still orgasming. the feeling of it bubbling up inside you is something obscene, like it should be forbidden to feel this good and drunk with lust, especially at the hands of a devil like this.

you lean forward to kiss him again, wanting to feel his groans against your lips, and needing a taste of his tongue again. he does exactly that for you, as if reading your mind. had you been one of his kind, he would’ve kept you as his permanent mate. he makes out with you for so long that you’re left gasping for air by the end of it.

“tch. i can’t believe i’ve stooped this low, cumming so quickly like a virgin,” he murmurs with half-lidded eyes.

“nngh...sukuna- i’m already so full,” you whine pitifully. you can feel his spend leak out of you, even though he still has your holes plugged up with his two dicks.

“that’s not good. i’ve still got much more to give,” sukuna teases, liking the way his name sounds on your lips.

“you’ll just have to withstand it.”

he begins to move in and out of you again.

lewd, wet slapping sounds echo throughout the cave as he fucks you in earnest, already mindlessly going after his next climax. you shiver in his arms, yelping each time the tip kisses your cervix. the double penetration doesn't help your case - as both of them rub up against each other within you, making your eyes roll back in ecstasy.

"i-i can't... it's all too much," you mumble, the bulge in your abdomen continuing to disappear and reappear with every thrust of his.

"you agreed to let me use you. no going back now," sukuna tells you with a grunt, brows furrowing when you tighten up around him again, threatening to milk him dry. it drives him mad.

"and i'll be sure to use this slutty body to my heart's content."

his previous loads makes for an even better sensation, making you nice and slippery for him. creamy, white rings are already starting to foam up at the base of both his dicks.

"it feels too good- too big- too big-" you babble, fresh tears piling up in your eyes as he continues to pummel into you, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass.

when the tears begin to roll down your cheeks, sukuna darts out his tongue and gets a taste.

"sweet..." he mumbles.

the urge to cum spills over, and he's releasing inside of you again. his seed repaints the walls of your womb and ass as he groans against the shell of your ear, making you dizzy with arousal.

"oh- my god-" you manage to let out, as you feel yourself getting filled up again.

"you're taking me better than anyone else has before...like a good little whore," sukuna compliments breathlessly, continuing to pump you full with his seed. he's never felt better. his head feels all fuzzy and the edges of his vision is a little blurred, as he focuses only on your sweet little face, lost in a state of euphoria. he leans into the crook of your neck, and darts his tongue out to taste your skin, desperately resisting the urge to sink his fangs into you.

as fast as he empties himself, his cocks fill up again even faster.

"sukuna...i feel... like i might burst," you pant, referring to your poor abdomen.

"...is that so?" he tells you, carefully sliding both of this cocks out of you. you feel a little relieved from the fullness, but also a bit empty simultaneously.

you gasp and jerk your hips when his large hand suddenly applies a bit of pressure to your stomach. everything that he'd stuffed inside you comes dripping out in large globs, falling into a little puddle on the ground.

"there we go," sukuna grins maliciously, watching as you tremble in his arms, enjoying this sensation of his cum oozing out of you... like the freak that you are.

"such a waste. i'll just have to stuff you full, over and over..." he whispers against your ear.

"nngh- sukuna... sukuna..." you chant, hips shaking as he re-inserts himself into you - both of his veiny cocks throbbing once again, aroused by witnessing you indulge in your pleasure.

he sighs erotically, as your plush walls welcomes him back inside, allowing him to slip inside so easily from the amount of slick you're producing.

you might actually go insane.

...sukuna uses you like a fleshlight for god knows how long. by the end of it, you're surprisingly still conscious, despite being ruined irreparably. fucking with such a sinful snake should've dragged you to the deepest pits of hell-- yet, being with him felt so heavenly.

"you ended up being more durable than i thought, love. i'm pleasantly surprised," he praises you, embracing your limp body closely.

"...might be worth trying on you..." he seems to speak to himself.

whatever it is that he's talking about, you're in no state to be pondering. you breathe heavily, eyes half-closed, trying to calm yourself after being so overstimulated for a period of time.

"rest easy. i'll keep you warm throughout the night."

his words hit you like magic, and the fatigue seeps into your consciousness, making you fall asleep in his arms.

-

your pillow...feels a little too firm. and- scaley? it's warm, though. and this texture is addictive.

when you open your eyes, you find yourself laying in a tangled pile of sukuna's long tail - your bare body covered with the clothes that you'd taken off before...

"you're awake. did you enjoy groping my tail in your sleep?" sukuna asks, recalling to the moments where you nuzzled against him with a perverted smile on multiple occasions.

flustered, you immediately want to voice your denial but your dry throat prevents you from doing so. you hold onto your own neck, coughing. he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

eventually, you're able to point at your backpack that's still sitting towards the side of his cave, which he grabs for you. you rummage your bag for your bottle of water that you'd stashed carefully, and you take a big gulp from it.

"sorry. throat was parched," you tell him, your voice still a little hoarse.

"right. forgot how sensitive you humans were," sukuna says nonchalantly.

"but still, you sufficed better than i expected," he adds on, with a smirk. he reaches out and brushes the back of his fingers against your cheek.

the praise makes your heart race, and you recall your memories from yesterday. it feels like a fever dream. this will be a secret you'll tell no one.

and that brings you back to reality. you remember that you need to get back home. there's a mountain of things you need to do! but... somehow, the thought of leaving made you feel a bit melancholic. will you ever see him again?

"you know... i originally intended to eat you after using you for sex."

the sudden phrase makes your blood run cold.

"...but i changed my mind. that would be such a waste of potential."

potential? potential for what?

"...look into my eyes, sweetheart."

"sukuna, i... i need to return home," you bring up carefully.

his tail tenses up, making you feel even more nervous. it coils around you tighter, and lifts you up to him. he gently grabs your face, lifting your chin up.

you can't help but do as he says - like taking his orders had been ingrained into your muscle memory - and once your pupils meet his, escape becomes infinitely more impossible.

"you don't wish to leave. you want to stay here," sukuna coaxes you, eyes gleaming red. your mind becomes... clouded. his voice rings in your head. it hurts a little, but you can't look away.

"but...home..." you protest for the final time, eyes turning blank. the words leave your lips like the last spark of a dying light.

"this is your home, my love. i am your home."

he takes you in his arms and nuzzles against your neck. a tongue darts out and licks a stripe against your skin, making you shiver. your arms snake around him, like you can't get enough.

"tell me again, sweetheart. where is your home?" he whispers darkly against your ear.

"...my home...my home is..." you drone on, still having some urge to fight back against his manipulation. he embraces you tighter, and possessively lets his teeth nibble on your earlobe.

"my home is you..."

the phrase gives way for a gleeful smirk to form on his face.

"wonderful. i'm glad you feel the same way," sukuna emphasises, withdrawing his face from your neck.

"now, let your tongue out for me."

you do it without question, and he leans forward to capture it with his mouth, initiating an intimate kiss. tongues roll around against each other, and you feel yourself sink deeper into him. when he pulls away, you're left breathless, a string of saliva still hanging off between. he takes it with him, by giving a soft lick to your lower lip.

"how amusing...this ability of mine isn't even that potent. had your determination to go home been stronger, it wouldn't have worked. makes me feel pleased, knowing that you had a strong desire to stay with me."

"sukuna..." you cling to him lovingly, making his heart give a tug. it makes him want to mess you up. but your fragile human body couldn't possibly handle that. which is why...

"i'm going to grant you a snake's tail. to make you completely mine," he suddenly confesses.

"is that... possible?" you still ask questions, even in a state of hypnosis.

"for me, it is. i didn't bother correcting you when you mistook me as one of those common hybrids, but i'll let you know now. i'm something more akin to a god."

he doesn't elaborate further. the new piece of information shrouds his species with even more mystery. perhaps it should stay that way.

it's a risky process, and you might end up losing your life. but he believes you can endure it.

"i'll be honest. it'll hurt a lot, love. but my venom will soothe you. i'll numb the pain."

within the next few seconds, his fangs sink into the side of your neck.

some additional dot points and what happens after;

so you do survive the ordeal, and you wake up a week later after being essentially modified to become a snake hybrid yourself

memories are hazy, but youre still sound of mind and you eventually get used to this new body with sukuna's help

he did tell you that humans can't carry his seed, but now that you're also a half-snake, you can...

now he has a permanent mate that he can use whenever mating season comes around

he doesnt have to lift you up when he wants to fuck you anymore, it can be done in a missionary way, where both of his dicks can fit into your snake cooch at the same time (its still a bit of a stretch tho, hes so big)

whenever he mates with you, both of yours and his tails coil around each other's, like how real snakes do (itd be cute if a heart would be made with the tips at the very end)

there are still some human aftereffects on your body, like when you get pregnant, you start lactating... he has the privilege to drink it all up himself when they get sore and full, since his young won't be needing any of it anyway

at first, you intensely miss your human life, weeping pitifully in the darkness of the cave,,

he gets you curled up against him, licking your tears away, and then kisses your forehead, promising you that he'll protect and love you forever, since youre his one and only mate...

"convincing" you that there is nothing to miss about being human.

Masterlist

[callsignpxnguin]

John Price Coming Home, 2

🔞 // click here for part one

Once upstairs, John was not gentle, nor slow, nor anything he had been when he first embraced you. And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

As one calloused palm slid up the inside of your shirt and pulled at your bra impatiently, his other made its way down your backside and did the same with your panties. “Off,” he growled, like the mere sight of you still clothed pained him.

He hummed deeply in satisfaction as you obeyed, pulling off your shirt obediently as he helped — or, more like ripped — your jeans down your legs at the same time. The moment you were spread bare on the bed in nothing but your undergarments, he did the same, tugging his vest and trousers off so that he looked above you in nothing but a thin pair of boxers that did nothing to hide the trail of dark hair that led down to the impressive bulge they covered.

“Want me so bad, yeah? God, you’re so wet already…” John continued to rasp, almost to himself, as the pad of his thumb circled the wet spot growing on your panties absently. You could only mewl in agreement, feeling yourself throb painfully already, desperate for friction as you bucked your hips up in order to urge his thumb to go harder.

He clicked quietly at that. “Oh, no, darlin’, not yet. Be patient. Need to ravish you, make up for lost time.” Immediately, his two fingers slid inside you, causing you to cry out and clench around him in surprise. The bed creaked loudly as he bent his head down, and you didn’t even get a chance to catch your breath after the sudden intrusion when his tongue had pushed the fabric of your panties aside and was swirling up and down the length of your folds.

You needed more. God, you needed so much more, needed him inside you, needed to feel that blissful fullness—

Your fingers found their way to his crotch as you convulsed in pleasure while he devoured you, reaching desperately, signalling all too clearly what you wanted. He only chuckled darkly, lifting his head back up for a moment to look at you with a glint in his eyes, and pulled his boxers down — only to start pumping himself instead. So now not only were you completely empty, but you had to watch his tortuously touch himself, thick fingers wrapped around his thicker length.

“No— I need— please…” You protested weakly, head spinning as you still lay splayed out.

“You want my cock, lovie?” He cooed, so innocently as shouldn’t have been possible as he dirtied himself before you. “Need it?”

You nodded desperately. His grin widened, then fell a little slack as he felt his balls tighten just by the how you were so goddamn willing. So desperate for him. His fist pumped a little faster, spurring him on. “Lie back. Don’t move a muscle. If you do, you won’t get what you want.”

You lay back, then watched him with wide, pleading eyes. You did as he asked. Of course you did.

The man loomed over you slowly, a hulking piece of meat with the intent to spear you until you couldn’t walk. His free hand unclasped your bra slowly and began to pinch your stiff nipples one by one, making you squirm and arch feverishly. “None of that,” he scolded, before slowly, tortuously slowly, he dragged his hand down from your chest and over your stomach. Once he reached your panties, though, he suddenly lurched and pulled them down before you even knew what was happening, and slammed into you to the hilt so hard that you screamed.

“Fucking hell,” John echoed loudly, eyes rolling back as he began to pump in and out, stretching you so tightly that you felt you might split at the seams. You babbled something incoherent, your mind completely empty as all you felt was John, around you, inside you, everywhere. The sharp slapping of his balls against your ass was loud, a constant rhythm that punctuated each of your pleasures moans, until John’s suddenly crescendoed and you felt yourself suddenly fill up with a warmth that penetrated you further than you would’ve thought possible.

“Told you I missed you,” was all John could whisper, as he finally pulled out and slumped beside you, chest heaving as he pulled you on top of him, both of you covered in sweat, salvia, and him.

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙮

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader

Content Includes: smut, angst with a happy ending, praise, mentions of depression and reader being sad, needy and dominant Chris, dacryphilia, begging, oral (f receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, possessive sex (because it's chris duh).

Requested by: My beautiful moot @ja3hwa requested 'angsty sex where Bang Chan takes care of sad reader' and boy did I deliver...I am fucking proud of this one.

Word Count: 1.7K

Disclaimer: 18+ only and this is just for funsies.

Chris was scared of losing you and his heart clenched at seeing your lifeless eyes around him. 

You were tired, you were in pain, your spark was fading from living a life of work and no play and he can’t fucking fix it and he should- he has too. 

The relationship was on its hinges and he became consumed at the prospect of it ending and he can’t let it, he won’t let it. 

The words fail to leave his mouth, too stressed and confused to verbalise what he really wants to say. 

That he can’t function without you, he can’t cope, fuck he can’t even breathe if you’re not around him. 

So what can he do? 

He gives, he gives what he can, he gives his body and soul, he’d give his life force if it meant he was the reason you were happy again. 

‘Can I have you tonight? I know you’re tired but you don’t have to do anything, I just want to worship you and care for you’. 

You nodded and gave him a sad smile and while you would’ve usually said no because you had showered…you could see the desperation in his eyes and it set heat in your body. 

He wanted you, craved you, burned for you. 

‘Make me happy again’

And that was enough, he practically pounced on you as he crawled on top of you and his body was BURNING…wearing nothing but black briefs as you felt his warmth sear into your skin. 

‘I love you so much’ He groaned between messy kisses, his plush lips covering yours as he pried his tongue into your mouth…claiming you as his arms frantically ran down your body, pushing your t-shirt up so he could run his hand across the planes of your naval. 

He pushed the t-shirt over the head, leaving you fully nude except your panties and running his eyes down your body, taking the image in, his heart clenched and cock aching in his briefs. 

‘I love your body, you have no idea how beautiful you are to me’

He could see the flush in your cheeks and he knew you were going to say something dismissive as you began to speak. 

Hot and warm lips moulded over yours, silencing you as he rubbed your shoulders, pulling away and staring down at you with warmth and something much darker in his eyes. 

You couldn’t figure out what. 

‘I don’t want you to talk tonight, I just want you to listen, I want you to feel’. 

Hasty and open-mouthed kisses were trailed down your neck and collarbones, sucking your skin between his teeth so it left a slight mark-his mark on you. 

Chris worshipped your body, kissing and sucking on your nipples, pushing his face into your sternum and smelling your scent as he grinded against the core of your panties…smirking at your whimpers and sighs. 

The praise warmed your heart and made your throat churn, holding tears back as it felt like he was devouring you with his love- like he had a point to make. 

‘I love your soul, love how it’s mine, love how my soul is yours babe.’

‘It’s always been yours, I breathe and live because of it’. 

Nimble fingers hastily pulled your panties down your legs and onto the floor, his body almost trembling with how he needed to be inside of you, needing to feel you wrapped around him. 

His strong hands held your hips down as his tongue lapped over your clit, the pillow you were laying on forming the perfect angle for him to suck and lick your sadness away. 

The muscles in his arms flexed as he pushed your knees towards your face, hitching your hips up so he could lick deeper, suck harder, his fingers gently stretching and curling inside of you…pressing against that one spot he’d known would make you twitch and moan. 

‘I know your body more than I know my own’ 

His cock throbbed as he looked up at and saw your glazed eyes and reddened cheeks, a stare he sure mimicked as well except for your cum and slick glazing his nose and cheeks and his swollen saliva-stained lips. 

‘Who will pleasure you if not for me? Who would care for you like I would?’ 

Your scent in his nose and your hands gripping the sheets, the pride he had in knowing he was at fault for your orgasm…fuck he could have came untouched in his briefs. 

He nuzzled his face against your inner thigh as he pulled his fingers back, wiping your cum and his spit on the warmth of your skin. 

‘Off..off..off’ He heard your murmur and felt your hands clumsily pull at his waistband, gently removing your hands before standing up and eagerly removing his briefs. 

Chris stared at your body as he lightly stroked himself, watching you spread and adjust the pillow underneath your hips, watching your eagerness for him. 

‘Do you want this as much as I do babygirl? Do you want to be with me?’ 

The question wanted answers for many different things but your nod and breathy pants of enthusiasm were enough for him to approach and hover over you, his body shielding you from the drudgery of life. 

Your body folded into your favourite position- both yours and Chris’s which was your legs wrapped high around his waist and your hands wrapped under his shoulders, his broad thighs supported by the pillow under your hips as he braced himself with his left hand, his right positioning the tip of your cock at your entrance. 

‘Because I want to be with my baby foreve-ahh!’ 

His body shuddered as he entered you slowly, inch by inch as he wanted to take his time to feel your hands clutch at his skin, to hear your moans as his cock nestled in your tight, warm and throbbing cunt. 

The beauty of Chris in this moment was enough to take your breath away, you never told him why you loved him on top of you because you knew he wouldn’t believe it but it was because you could gaze at him just as much as he did with you. 

His skin glistening with sweat, brow furrowed, veins taut in his neck, his curls dangling over his eyes, bottom lip clenched between his teeth and fuck- he had your soul in the palm of his hands and he didn’t fucking know it. 

Chris lowered his torso and braced his weight on his forearms as he began to slowly pull out before thrusting back into you at a languid pace, watching your body relax as you adjusted to him- like your body was never fully prepared to feel him stretch you the way he does. 

‘Give in to me’ 

His hands cradled your face as he kissed you feverishly, possessively as his tongue claimed your mouth, licking your tongue, your palate, the back of your teeth..everywhere. 

A thread of saliva joined you two as he pulled away, his hands trailing down your arms and your thighs as he bent your knees further towards you. 

He pulled himself higher up on the bed as he grinds and circles his hips, his tip pressed against your g-spot and pelvic region grinding against your clit. 

( I googled and this is apparently called the ‘coital alignment technique’ where there’s less focus on thrusting in and out and more focus on grinding up and down. 

Basically less slapping and more writhing- can someone comment down below and let me know if this actually works?). 

If by the way your hips drove up against his and your body tightening around his- Chris could tell you were getting close. 

His pace quickened as his hand fisted gently in your hair and cradled your face in his neck, the staccato of his voice broken and heavy with the exertion. 

‘Don’t give up on me…don’t give up on us…just HAH! Give in to me, give me your problems mmmh! Give me your pain and I’ll take it from you…I’ll carry it for you…you just have to believe in me-’ 

His desperate words were cut off as your body trembled underneath him, your cunt clenched around him as you hit your peak of bliss, your eyes closing and breathy gasps leaving your mouth. 

You felt his movement slow down above you and your eyes were filled with tears at how gravelly his voice sounded, how you could feel his love through the flex of his muscles and the warmth of his presence above you. 

‘Keep going Chris…please keep going…want you to cum for me’ 

And that was enough for his self-composure to finally snap as he leaned back in and kissed you messily, his hands roughly grabbing your wrists and pressing them down in the sheets as he thrusted eagerly and hell-bent on chasing his own orgasm. 

‘You’re mine baby’ 

His moans became more broken, husky and dark as his voice revealed how tethered he truly was to you, tears in his eyes and throat clenched as his fingers tightened around yours. 

‘It is my purpose to protect and care for you, I am nothing without you, my life is meaningless if you’re not here with me, I can’t-’ 

You heard Chris’s voice crack as he spoke, a dry whimper leaving his breath as you felt his chest seize and tears stain your neck. 

‘I can’t breathe if you’re not here with me…I just can’t…I need-’

His voice broke as his hips staggered and he released inside of you, his body quick to collapse against yours and release your hands, instead using them to rub gently at your sides as he pressed gentle kisses against your neck and shoulders. 

You felt his shoulders shake and a few muffled whimpers against your neck, hoarse and raspy like he was struggling to keep them in. 

‘I need you to just stay with me okay? I’ll make you happy…I promise’. 

A tear rolled down the side of your eye as you kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair, knowing full well that he meant it and he meant everything tonight. 

‘I’m staying Chris…I’ll always stay for you’. 

I wouldn't say this is toxic but it's probably not healthy either??? It just leans heavily into Chris's caregiver complex and let's be real, he would totally be like this.

I have been comissioned to do another Chris fic but I will release that after I release my Jongho fic.

Stay tuned for this month's smut analysis and Jongho fic, thank you for your support.

Please reblog and comment the hell out of this post because I cried my eyes out while writing it.

Taglist: @scuzmunkie @marievllr-abg @umbralhelwolf @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @junieshohoho @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @craxy-person @hologramhoneymoon @gyuhanniescarat @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @berryberrytan @laylasbunbunny @bangchanbabygirlx @i-love-ateez @anyamaris @krishastumblernow @hexheathen @michel-angelhoe @northerngalxy @justaaveragereader @ja3hwa @lyramundana @wolfakira @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell @silentreaderthings @daddysspecialdollyworld @abby-grace @smilefordongil @wisejudgedragonhairdo @writhingwrecked @hongthoven @torialefay

[saotoru]

10.24: HOW THEY EAT IT PT. 2 + DANTE & VERGIL

SYNOPSIS: what positions sparda bros like eating pussy in

CONTENT WARNINGS: fem!reader. ass eating. oral (f). anal. ass eating. fingering. a lot of overstimulation. pussy slapping. all acts are consensual whether explicitly stated or not.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: thank you for the love on the original ‘how they eat it’!!! <3

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST | MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

DANTE- FROM THE BACK

i’m here to preach the nasty dante agenda; he loves eating you out from the back. the first thing you’re greeted with the second you come home from work is his embrace. it’s innocent for all but a moment before dante’s hands wander down to paw at your clothes. in the seconds it takes you process his intentions, he’s already making them known by sinking down to his knees behind you and bringing the hem of your pants with him. each inch of skin he exposes gets kissed, and you can feel that typical, devilish smirk against your hip. “thought about you all day,” he murmurs, splaying a hand on your back to coax you to bend over and brace on the wall. your protests—that you haven’t showered yet, or that you were at work all day—all go ignored by dante burying his face in you and inhaling. no, he ignores you and licks a broad strip from your clit up to your asshole and moans.

he’s insatiable. completely shameless as he all but buries his face in you, hands spreading your cheeks so he can lap at your pussy. you taste soft, fucking good when you’re arched for him like this, exposed, and dante groans. stubble prickles your skin as he licks higher and higher, until he’s licking your hole and rimming you. the taste of you, the way you struggle to hold yourself upright makes his cock twitch but he ignores it, sinking a finger in your cunt instead, down to the knuckle. it’s too much, thick fingers fucking inside you, at first one, then two, until he’s stretching you out with three. and when he slips his tongue inside you feel so fucking full that tears blur your vision and you reach a hand behind to tug on his hair for him to slow down.

he doesn’t; if anything he only groans in response. “you look so pretty full of me. just want you to squirt. please. i know this sloppy pussy can, lemme taste it, angel…”

VERGIL- MATING PRESS

vergil will fold you in half when he eats you out. essentially mating press, where your thighs are pushed to your chest but it’s his face buried inside you instead of his cock. strong hands keep you pinned down while he all but devours you. that’s the only way to describe how vergil eats you out—completely, selfishly. here, he can lap at you without interruptions, without your thighs squeezing around his head and pushing him away. no, here you have to lay there and take it.

he’s not doing this for your pleasure. you know that much, otherwise he would stop after the first time you orgasmed. he would’ve been satisfied; he shouldn’t be stiffening his tongue and fucking it inside you to taste your cum. he tries to drink his fill—not meaning to let out low grunts when he feels your ankles cross behind his head and lock him there. and no matter how many times you cum and writhe and plead beneath him, he wants more.

and after what feels like hours, when he finally pulls away, he can’t look away from the mess he’s made of you. your spitslicked, wet folds only makes his mouth water and vergil realizes he’s still not satisfied.

“it’s not enough.” he grunts. he pushes his hair—normally well kept, now askew—away from his forehead in frustration. “i need more of you.”

you whine. “can’t, verg–s’too much.”

he lands a slap to your pussy. not hard enough to hurt, but light enough to make you flinch and clamp your thighs shut. “take it.” theres no room for argument–that’s the only warning you’re given before your thighs are shoved to your chest while vergil takes and takes and takes.

[gds-daisy]

taking over me

pairing: kwon jiyong x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT (DNI IF YOURE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), dom!jiyong, sub!reader, shower sex, oral (fem!receiving), teasing, dirty talk, praise, fluff.

If you would’ve known that watching dramas with Jiyong would lead to a steamy makeout session in the shower, you would’ve done it a whole lot sooner. The two of you had gotten bored after the movie was over, so what better to do than shower together?

Both of your guys hands roamed each others bodies like a wildfire. Turns out you both needed each other more than either of you thought. He always had this unwavering ability to turn you on by doing the littlest things. Was it annoying? Absolutely. But did you care? Fuck no. All you need right now is him and nothing more.

As the kiss deepens, he grows awareness of how desperate you really are when you start tutting your wet pussy against his thigh.

“Need me that bad, huh baby?” Anakin whispers in a cocky voice against your lips, mocking you.

“Please…” you let out desperately, not even caring that you’re just proving him right.

“Use your words. What do you want?” Jiyong orders.

“Want you to eat my pussy,” you whine in defeat.

“See that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he says, his voice dripping with confidence.

“No it wasn’t,” you reply back, anticipating his next move.

“Since you used your words like a good girl, you get a reward,” he says with a grin, finally pulling away from your face and breaking the kiss. Before you get to say anything more, he sinks down onto his knees and looks up at you with lustful eyes. Without warning, he brings his lips to your wet pussy folds that had unknowingly been dripping for him. He starts sucking away at your sensitive, swollen clit at an unexpected pace. You moan at the newfound sensation that he was making you feel ever so deeply.

“Love making out with this pretty little pussy…all mine” he says as he continues to devour your tight cunt.

“Oh Ji…” you say as you tilt your head back in ecstasy, feeling every nerve of his tongue scrape against your walls.

No matter how many times you guys did this, he always managed to make you feel like you were floating on cloud nine. He could be soft and slow, but also erratic and rough. Whether it was with his cock or skilled tongue, he made you go completely dumb on him.

“Need you to go faster…” you whimper.

“What’s the magic word?” Jiyong tuts, coming out as a muffle as his mouth was still flush against your pussy, which sent a shiver down your spine.

“Please…” you beg of him as you practically grind against his face.

He goes even deeper and faster as you grab away at his hair to support you and prevent you from falling. You could feel your insides being arranged with his erratic movements deep inside you. You could feel yourself becoming undone with each thrust of his tongue. He was practically devouring your pussy as if it were his last meal on earth. It was no secret he worshipped you, but your pussy? It was divine to him.

He can feel your pretty little nerves twitch with each passing second and decides to tease you even more. “You wanna cum for me baby?” Jiyong implores, already anticipating your answer.

“Fuck yes…need it so badly,” you plead to him while he looks up at you with those ocean blue eyes of his, crafted by the gods.

He doesn’t bother to warn you of the sharp thrust that comes next before you groan out, hoping that it tells him everything he needs to know about how he’s making you feel.

He feels your folds contract around him and he just knows that you’re on the brink of an orgasm. The hot coil in your tummy is starting to unwind and you know you don’t have much longer before you completely fall apart.

Jiyong sucks away at your swollen bud out of instinct, knowing that it would make you cum sooner rather than later. “I’m gonna…” you exclaim with a breathy tone in your voice.

“Cum for me then.” he orders of you.

He violently attacks your sensitive nerves with the intention of giving you exactly what you wanted and so desperately needed. Despite his harsh nature when he had you like this, he always wanted to make sure he gave you the world.

A few more flicks of his tongue prove to send you over the edge as you finally reach your high, which he so graciously fucks you through to the end.

He pulls his tongue out before getting up from his knees and softly kisses you on the lips for just a second. He lets your breathing return to normal before beckoning you to come closer to him. You follow through before laying your head on his shoulder and leaning into him. He wraps his arms around you ever so lovingly, the warmth radiating from his body into yours. He runs his hands through your hair as you remain exactly where you are. It was like the world stopped spinning in this moment and you guys were the only ones walking this earth.

“Thank you for always taking care of me,” you coo softly.

“I will always be here to take care of you jagiya. Always…” Jiyong replies with an even softer voice.

“I like the sound of that.”

[eideticmemory]

CRUSH | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

I owe you a black eye and two kisses. Tell me when you wanna come and get ‘em.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning/Includes: Long distance pining and mindless smut :)

Loving him is not enough.

Being in the same space and time as him is not enough.

You want to eat him alive. You want to devour him until there is nothing left but bits of bone and eyes. You want to hold him so close and so tight that you absorb him through your ribcage. You want to lock him inside your chest, and make sure he can never, ever get out.

It is a scary thing to realize. The chain that holds your heart to his mouth. The grip his hand has around your throat. The complete and total and suffocating need to be with him. Consumed by him.

It was never meant to get to this point. To this level of desperation. To this - I will fly across the world just to be with you type of connection. But it has. Being away from Matthew Gray makes you physically ill. Nauseated. Can’t get out of bed sick to your fucking stomach. It takes days to come out of the thick fog, the loop in your brain that whispers, Matthew, Matthew, Matthew…

You count down the days until you see him again. You get so close to being normal. You get so close to a hormonal and mental balance and he, once again, tips the scales completely. You get off a plane and take a 45 minute ride to his house and you don’t look the same as when you first boarded but it does not matter and he could not care less. In the hours before you come, Matthew gets a horrible headache and the only thing that will soothe it is seeing you. That intoxicating rush of serotonin to both your brains when you get out the car and he’s waiting on the porch and you drop your bag at the top of the stairs and jump in his arms. He can barely feel his head.

He always tells you that you smell good and he proceeds to try to eat you alive before the door can close behind you. This can go on for a long time. The I forgot what you smell like and how your body feels against mine make out session. Always by the front door. Always vertical. Open mouths and slimy tongues and hands that are just on the verge of taking it too far. He backs you into the wall, and wants to choke you but that is Too Far so he stops kissing you and puts his forehead against yours. Neither of you can breathe and your mouths are dripping wet. Matthew’s eyes follow the path of his hand - over your neck, down your chest and around your waist. He wipes your mouth with his thumb, nuzzles his nose against yours and breathes out, “Fucking missed you.”

You want to crawl inside his skin.

Before you go out to dinner, you let him finger you in the car. You didn’t wear underwear beneath your dress and he would’ve had a stroke if he didn’t get his hands on you. In you. If he didn’t, just once, put that spell on you that makes you go cross eyed and arch your body in an inhumane way. He parks the car behind the restaurant and gets to work and you lay all the way back in the seat with your dress around your hips. You come so hard that he has to cover your mouth while you scream. He runs his wet hand down your inner thigh and lays on top on you for a bit. You catch your breath, you fix your clothes. The entire ordeal makes you both so hungry.

Matthew orders an entire bottle of wine and you drink it only because it’s a fancy restaurant and you are dressed fancy so you must act fancy. But you finish the bottle and Matthew stops it there because he is just sober enough to drive. Just sober enough to get you home.

When you get to his house, you’re worried you’re going to piss yourself. You’re laughing too hard and there are suddenly so many more stairs than there have ever been and Matthew is not helping. He’s behind you, holding onto your waist, kissing your neck and whispering jokes in your ear and you cackle, “Matthew! Matthew! Stop! I’m gonna piss myself.” But you’re tangling your hand in his hair because you don’t want him to stop.

You rush to use the bathroom inside and when you come out, face splashed with water and one strap hanging off your shoulder, Matthew stares at you for a really long time. There’s always a palpable shift in the room. The air gets thicker. Matthew’s eyes get darker. He lays back against the bed, props his hands behind his head.

“Can you take your dress off?” he asks.

You tilt your head at him, so he adds, “Please?”

And because he asked so nicely, you push your straps down your arms and let your dress slip off your body and you’re completely naked. It is awkward so far away so you crawl into bed with him and he immediately grabs your boobs. He can’t choose which one to grope, but his other hand is busy gripping your hair and pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. He’s never gentle, but he’s never rough from the start. Just forceful. Pinning both your legs between his and sucking on your neck.

You put your fingers between the button holes on his shirt. You pluck them off one by one, moan as he licks your jaw and holds you by the throat. He straddles you, traps your thighs between his, takes off his shirt. His hand is big enough to squeeze both your boobs in one palm and his nails dig into the soft skin of your chest. You feel him vibrating and it is just with this overwhelming urge to tear you apart. He always needs that hint, that glint in your eye that says: I am yours. Do what you please.

He kisses you real soft and peppers your face with little pecks and shifts down to take your nipple into his mouth. His mouth is hot to touch, burning and weaponed with a quick tongue. The tip of his tongue flicks against you so quickly that it shuts down your brain. He wants to sink his teeth into you but he channels it into this timely and taunting suction. He does this until you’re dizzy. Dizzy and rubbing your slick thighs together for any type of friction.

He can’t keep his hands off of you. He touches your face and runs his hands down your waist as he puts himself between your legs. He looks down and spits on your pussy, this long drip of saliva falling directly on your clit. He settles on the bed so he can bury his face in you and you lose all tension in your body. Your toes curl up and you spread your legs wide for him and he puts his tongue inside you. You are an occasional five star meal and he is severely malnourished.

You tangle your hands in his hair and he will not take his eyes off you. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and writhes against the bed to put pressure on his cock. He can’t stop moaning under his breath, and if you weren’t so loud, you could hear him. His fingers slip into you so easily that it’s like they never stop. You feel them at the top of your pelvis and you start to claw at his back.

You say, “Fuck, I’m gonna come. Oh, fuck,” and Matthew’s body is washed in euphoria. You come with three loud grunts and fall limp on the mattress and Matthew’s pants are off before you can lift your head back up.

You hold his face in your hands as he kisses you. You wrap your arms around his neck and his hands hold your ribs and he rocks his hips and pushes into you. Your bodies just meld together and it is the one thing that will truly, quickly, put you at peace. Matthew puts his tongue in your mouth and says, “Spread your legs,” and starts pounding you into the mattress. His lips are just beside your ear so you hear every grunt and groan and breathy gasp and you try to burn it into your brain.

Every sound you make is involuntary. You can’t hold your eyes open and you can’t move and every time he pushes into you, your legs spasm and you whimper. He holds your jaw in his hand and his puts two fingers against your bottom teeth and you dig your nails into his arm. He gets tired of not seeing your face so he pushes your knee into your chest, bends you in half and gets as deep inside of you as he can. He watches you just crumble. Cry out like it’s uncontrollable. You grip his biceps, kiss him slow and watch his cock move in and out of you, watch it disappear all the way inside of you each and every time.

When you’re close, you reach for his face, grip his hair for dear life. He rubs your clit and kisses your neck and whispers in your ear, “Come for me, baby. Please? Please. I know it feels so good, come for me, my love.”

You Love when he uses the L word.

You love when he fucks you until you come and tells you that you’re a good girl and kisses you like he’s proud. He positions himself behind you and wraps his arm around your waist. “You okay, baby?” he asks as he slides in and out of you, real slow. You nod, you say, “Mhm,” and he puts his hand between your legs, rubs your clit, real soft.

He’s getting there, he’s getting so sloppy. Messy thursts and his hand around his throat and the filthiest things being whispered in your ear. Your throat is getting raw, and you use the last of your air to come again. You push his hips away but he grabs your elbows and plows into you, saying, “I’m so close, baby, almost there, fuck. You’re so good, baby, you’re gonna make me come.”

You face him, you kiss him and beg him to give it to you. Give it all to you. The very molecules of his being, the blood in his veins, the energy and matter that builds this man. You want it. You’re craving it. He explodes inside of you and holds you close as the warmth radiates through your tummy.

It is not enough. Nothing is ever enough. He is never close enough, never near for long enough. You want to wear him around your neck, tattoo him into the deepest layers of your skin. You want him.

God, do you want him. All the fucking time.

[iznyangwoni]

EASY TO LOVE | chapter eight!

warnings: VERY suggestive, kind of smut but not really? mentions of being drunk

You dont even know what time it is when you’re so drunk you can barely hold yourself up. Wonyoung is the most sober one, and by most sober you mean that she can’t really walk straight, but she has enough strength to pull Moka off the floor. You girls are giggling like maniacs, and by this point you cant even remember why you started laughing.

You press your back on the wall, watching as Wonyoung struggles to help your other friend. You would help too if your head wasnt spinning so much. So you stand there, looking around. Nicholas is fast asleep on the couch, meanwhile Jay and Sunghoon are nowhere to be found. Jungwon is on the platform, talking with his friends.

Your eyes rest on him for a few more seconds, just a few.. His blazer was somehow even more open now, you could see the line of his chest, even his abs. You take a deep breath, thinking about the way his hand was touching your thigh not too long ago. The way his lips were whispering in your ear, your leg on his. Fuck.

Without even realizing you’re already walking towards him, your hand on his shoulder and he immediately turns to look at you. “Hey pretty. Feeling tired?” You look at his friends, at it takes them a quick glance to understand that they need to go, leaving you and Jungwon alone. “Worse..”

You say softly, your hand slowly coming down to his arm. You still dont get too close to him, you can see the lower floor by the inside platform, but that means that people from there can see you too. Your eyes once again fall to his chest and he lets out a quiet chuckle, your hand moves on its own, touching his necklace before going just a bit down on his chest.

“I thought you weren’t interested in sleeping with me?” You raise your head to glance at him, your hand not moving from that place. “I wasn’t looking for it… but if the right time comes…” “is this the right time?” “is it not?” Jungwon has to beg his whole body to not just lean in and kiss you as if its the only thing he wanted. The way you’re looking at him, its driving him mad.

“Follow me.” You say, and he just nods, following you wherever you want, the only thing on his mind being how your lips would taste on his, how your soft skin would feel under his big hands, how much he needed to be inside you. He groans when you close the door of a random room, the lighting is so dark and blue, he could see you perfectly, but it was good enough to get him in the mood.

He doesnt think twice before pushing your back towards the wall, his body so close to yours, his hands on your waist, slowly going up and down to caress your sides. “You’ve been playing with me for days..” He whispers, biting your ear as he starts giving open mouthed kisses to your neck, you close your eyes, letting him do whatever he wants with you.

“Do you think its fair?” He bites your skin, his hands gripping even more on your hips, meanwhile yours unbutton his blazer completely. “Telling me not to get hard while you look like this..” His jacket falls on the floor with a loud thud, you open your eyes only to look at him, your hands going all around his upper body, his broad shoulders, toned chest, muscled arms.

You cant help but whine when he grabs your ass, you didnt think he could make you get so wet only by these touches. “You better shut that mouth and just kiss me before i go insane.” You dont even have to finish the sentence for his lips to be on yours, they taste even better than you would’ve thought, he’s not too rough, but he still gives you the feeling that he wants to devour you.

Your hands go between his hair, fingers wrapping with his locks as you bring him down to kiss you better, his tongue interlocking with yours, pants and groans leaving both of your mouths. You make out for a while, until your hear the announcement that the club is about to close. Fuck, is it already so late?

Jungwon pulls out of your lips, a string of saliva still keeping you attached. “Should we..?” “No.” You dont want to stop, you still have thirty minutes, you know you can make the best out of them. “We.. still got time..” You breathe out, your lips attacking his neck and chest, your hands going to his pants. He moans, and god, you didnt believe he could be so loud, but you have to admit its only turning you on even more.

The announcement goes on again and he stops your hands, you whine, too drunk to really understand how risky this is. He kisses your cheek before taking a step back. “I guess it wasnt the right time, pretty.” You watch him as he takes his blazer from the floor and puts it on, you pout, biting your bottom lip nervously.

He buttons up only one of the buttons and you pout even more, how can he be so hot even after rejecting you so casually? He takes your hand in his and brings you out of the room, your boots have been hurting like hell for hours now, you can barely walk down the stairs.

You finally reach your friends, who are standing in the parking lot, trying to figure out who should drive and who shouldn’t. “There you are!” Wonyoung pinches your cheek, and you close your eyes, too drunk and tired to even complain. “Y/n are you okay? You sure you can go home like that?” She then asks, holding your face in her hands, you just mumble.

Honestly, no. You cant go home like this, if the cameras were to catch you all stumbling around your house you’d be done for, and no other people can enter after midnight, so going back is not an option. “Its fine, she can stay with me.” Jungwon is the one to speak and you raise your head to look at him, only to then rest your forehead on his shoulder.

“Yeah, no she wont.” “Sunghoon-“ “We don’t know him!” You’ve never seen Sunghoon so mad. You know he cares for you a lot, but he never really acted like this. “I’ll go with Jungwon.” You manage to say, the latter puts his arm around your waist, not wanting you to fall by any chances.

Sunghoon is about to say something but Wonyoung, whos the only other one able to actually think, speaks. “It is better for her to go with him, Hoon your parents are still home and you dont want to repeat what happened to her last year, do you?” At that point the older guy just stays silent, the answer being obvious.

Wonyoung then looks at Jungwon with the coldest glance she can provide, her hands on your head. “I’ll tell her brother she’s sleeping at my house. You better not touch her, understood?” “Who do you guys take me for? I’m not touching her when she’s so drunk.” You pout even more, damn you really had hope for something to happen.

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