#i NEED him .

[reiners-milkbiddies]

🥺🥺🥺

REBLOG IF YOU WANT A LOVE LETTER FROM A FICTIONAL CHARACTER IN YOUR ASK BOX NOW

[surielstea]

Blade Bound

Based on a request!

Pairing: Cassian x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: Cassian walks his wife home, and then some.

Warnings: Pregnancy | Slightest bit of angst

3k words.

The glow of the forge warmed my cheeks as I flicked my mask up, wiping at the thin sheen of sweat on my brow. My eyes scanned the steel daggers in front of me, the heat of the fire still making the blades gleam red-hot. The rhythmic hum of hammers meeting steel and the hiss of blades meeting water filled the air—a sound I'd grown to love. This was my sanctuary, my space.

I was so focused on the metal that I nearly missed the soft creak of the workshop door. Nearly.

My head lifted, the sound cutting through the symphony of my work. My lips curled into a grin as I saw the tall figure step into the dim light of my forge, wings peaking over his broad shoulders. "You didn't tell me you were coming, Cass," I called out, my voice teasing but warm.

Cassian stood there, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he shoved his hands into his pockets. His hazel eyes glinted in the firelight, and the sight made my stomach do the slightest flip. "Hey, love," he said, his voice low and rich, his grin deepening as he took in what I was working on.

I turned my attention back to the sword in my hand, its unfinished hilt still warm against my gloves. "You come to give me a hand?" I asked hopefully, plunging the glowing blade into the barrel of cool water. Steam rose in a furious hiss, curling around us like a phantom.

"You know I'm terrible at making the weapons, much better at wielding them." He grumbled, approaching the countertop and drumming his fingers along it.

"Correction," I said as I removed the blade from the water. "You're terrible at the fine details. But you're great at the grunt work."

Cassian huffed, but I could see the corners of his mouth twitching upward as he tried not to smile. "You married me for my muscles, didn't you?"

"Partially," I admitted, sliding the unsharpened sword back into its mold. "Why are you here then? I thought you had a meeting with Rhys." I pulled my mask fully off and ran a hand through my hair, shaking out the strands that clung to my skin.

"He called it early," he said, stepping past the counter, his large frame seeming to take up all the available space in the room. He leaned casually against the workbench, his arms crossed, but there was something about the way his gaze lingered on me that made the air between us feel charged. "Besides, I didn't come here for weapons tonight."

I quirked an eyebrow at him, already knowing where this was going. "Oh?" I leaned back against the anvil, folding my arms across my chest to mirror him. "And here I thought you couldn't resist testing out my new blades."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, and it sent a pleasant shiver down my spine. "Don't get me wrong—your work is as flawless as ever," he said, his gaze flicking briefly to the daggers on the bench before returning to me. "But I came here to walk you home."

His words hung in the air, soft yet firm, and I found myself momentarily caught in the intensity of his stare. "Home?" I asked, tilting my head. "Cassian, I'm fine. Just a few more hours and I'll—"

"You've been at this all day," he interrupted, his tone gentle but insistent as he pushed off the bench and stepped closer. He reached out, his rough, calloused hand brushing a stray streak of soot from my cheek. "Take a break. It's getting late."

I huffed a laugh, though my cheeks flushed at the tenderness of his touch. "The weapons won't forge themselves, you know."

"They'll still be here tomorrow," he said, his fingers lingering near my face before he dropped his hand back to his side. His voice softened as he added, "You won't do anyone any good if you work yourself to exhaustion."

There was no arguing with Cassian when he used that tone—the one that was equal parts concerned and endearing. He knew I could hold my own, but he also knew exactly when to step in and remind me to take care of myself.

I sighed, the tension in my shoulders easing under his steady gaze. "Alright, General," I said with mock seriousness, pulling off my apron and hanging it on the peg beside me. "What do you propose we do instead?"

His grin turned roguish, his hazel eyes lighting up with mischief. "I told you I want to walk you home, maybe take the long way just to stare at the stars a little longer. You've been cooped up in here all day—I think some fresh air would do you good."

"A walk?" I teased, though I couldn't help the smile tugging at my lips. "You're practically courting me."

His laugh was deep and infectious, rolling through my workshop like a melody meant only for me. "We've been married for centuries," he shot back, his expression softening as he looked at me, his grin a mixture of teasing and devotion. "So trust me when I tell you—you're worth courting."

The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard, freezing me in place for a beat too long. Cassian, with all his swagger and bravado, stood in the middle of my cluttered workshop, looking at me as though I were the only thing holding his world together.

I cleared my throat, shaking off the warmth unfurling in my chest. "Alright, you win," I relented, grabbing a rag to wipe my hands clean, but the skin remained stained with charcoal and soot. My voice came out steady, even if my heart wasn't. "Let me grab my coat."

I turned toward the rack, but before I could untie my apron, I felt the familiar warmth of his hand at my waist. He loosened the knot with an ease born of centuries together, slipping the apron over my head with careful precision. His touch lingered, just long enough for the air to thrum between us.

"Take your time," he murmured dryly, his voice a low rumble.

When I glanced back at him, he was watching me with that quiet intensity he so rarely let show—like the chaos of the world had stilled, leaving just us in the glow of it. For all his fire and fury, Cassian had this way of grounding me, of reminding me of the steady flame that burned beneath the warrior exterior.

I leaned in, brushing my lips against his in a soft kiss.

His grin was as wicked as it was endearing. "Save that for tonight," he said, pulling back just enough to tease.

I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at my lips. Rising onto my toes, I pecked him again. "Fine, fine," I huffed, waving him off as I grabbed my coat from the hook, swapping it with my apron.

Reaching for a small glass case on the workbench, I handed it to him. "These are for Az," I said. "He requested them—something about restocking the nursery." I arched a brow, skepticism dripping from my tone. "Can you tell me why Azriel needs daggers in our child's room?"

Cassian's grin turned sheepish as he shrugged. "He likes to be prepared."

"Prepared for what? A rogue teddy bear attack?"

"Hey, I don't question his methods. I have yet to find one around the house, and it seems to keep him happy so I let him."

I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Cass, we're going to have a child. Daggers hidden anywhere in the house isn't exactly baby-proof."

"I'll talk to him," he promised, holding his free hand up in surrender.

I sighed. "I suppose if I haven't found any yet, he's hiding them well. Just make sure he keeps them out of reach, okay?"

"Of course, love. No need to worry."

I gave him a long look, trying to decide if he was genuinely serious or just placating me. Probably a bit of both.

"Alright," I muttered, sliding my arms into my coat. "Let's get out of here before I start overthinking the entire safety protocol of our house."

Cassian chuckled, tucking the case of daggers under his arm. As we stepped out into the crisp night air, he slung his other arm around my shoulders, tugging me close. The world felt lighter with him beside me, the stars above brighter somehow.

The walk back to our house was comfortable, Cassian's hand never leaving the small of my back as we made our way through the city. It was late, far past sundown but Velaris was alive as always, the streets bustling with fae chatting, laughing, and living as though it wasn't nearing midnight.

When we reached the house, Cassian held the door open for me, his teasing grin softening into something quieter. "I'll drop these off with Az. You head up—unless you want to supervise the handoff?"

I snorted, shrugging off my coat. "I trust you to make sure he doesn't immediately shove one under the crib mattress."

"Funny. That's the first place he'd hide one."

"Cassian!"

He laughed, planting a kiss on my forehead before disappearing down the hall. I climbed the stairs, my steps slowing as I passed the nursery. The room was still a work in progress the walls half painted and the dresser dissembled, but the crib stood at the center, its dark wood gleaming in the moonlight.

I stepped inside, running a hand along the curved edge. The weight of everything settled on me in that moment—the good and the terrifying. A child. Our child. I could already feel my heart making room for them, expanding in ways I hadn't thought possible.

The sound of footsteps drew my attention. Cassian appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. "You're worried," he said softly.

I nodded. "It's, a lot. Everything's going to change."

He stepped inside, closing the distance between us in a few strides. His hands found my waist, grounding me in that effortless way of his. "You're not in this alone, you know. We're a team. And if anyone dares to mess with our family, well—" His grin turned wicked. "We've got Az's nursery daggers for that."

I laughed despite myself, leaning into his chest. "We're going to be fine, aren't we?"

"Better than fine," he promised, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head. "I promise."

And in his arms, I believed him.

Cassian's arms tightened around me, his warmth sinking into my skin as I breathed him in. For all his teasing and chaos, he always had this way of making me feel steady—of reminding me I wasn't just a blacksmith pounding out weapons in a forge, but someone who mattered to him, to our court, and now to the tiny life growing within me.

After a long moment, I sighed and stepped back, my hand lingering on his chest. "Speaking of Az's daggers, you'd think the Spymaster would have a little more patience," I muttered. "I'm running out of ways to make his blades sharper, lighter, or deadlier. At this point, I'm half-convinced he's just trying to keep me busy." I drone, thinking of the recent orders he's been making for no real reason.

Cassian chuckled, his hand drifting to rest on my belly, a gesture so absentminded and natural it made my heart clench. "Azriel keeps you busy because he's secretly terrified you'll run out of projects and get bored. And we all know what happens when you get bored."

"Oh?" I cocked a brow, crossing my arms over my chest. "And what exactly happens, General?"

"You invent something," he said solemnly, though the sparkle in his hazel eyes betrayed him. "Something new. Something terrifying. Something that usually involves explosions or blades that even Rhys has to veto before you can patent them and start selling to Lord Devlon."

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "I've only had two experiments blow up in my face this year."

"Three," he corrected, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "Don't think I've forgotten about that flaming sword incident last spring."

"That wasn't an explosion!" I shot back, pointing a finger at his chest. "It was a controlled combustion—completely intentional, I might add. You're the one who decided to put it down on a wood surface."

He laughed, the sound rumbling through the quiet nursery. "It only burned down a countertop before we got the fire out. No harm, no foul."

I gave him a playful shove, but the warmth in my chest wouldn't go away. For as much as I loved the forge—the smell of molten steel, the rhythm of hammer against anvil, the satisfaction of shaping something raw into something powerful—moments like this reminded me why I'd taken the risk of opening my workshop in Velaris in the first place.

"Do you ever regret it?" I asked after a minute, my voice softer now.

Cassian tilted his head, his expression shifting to one of curiosity. "Regret what?"

"Falling for someone like me," I said, gesturing vaguely toward the soot still staining my hands, despite my earlier attempt to clean them. "Someone who spends most of her days covered in ash and sweat, hammering out weapons instead of wearing gowns and sipping wine like a proper lady."

He stared at me for a long moment, his golden eyes unreadable. Then he reached out, taking my hands in his. His thumbs brushed over the calluses on my palms, the rough patches I'd earned from years at the forge.

"I've never regretted a damn thing about you," he said, his voice low and fierce. "Not the ash, not the sweat, not the fact that you could probably forge a better sword than all the Illyrian smiths combined. And definitely not the fact that you're about to be the best mother in Prythian."

My throat tightened, and I blinked quickly, trying to keep my emotions in check. "You're just saying that because you like getting the first pick of my weapons," I muttered, my voice breaking on the last word.

Cassian grinned, pulling me closer. "True." He smirks. "I love well-crafted steel. But I love you more."

I leaned my forehead against his chest, letting his steady heartbeat calm the storm inside me. After a moment, I pulled back, brushing a stray lock of hair out of my face.

"Well, in that case," I said, my tone lightening, "I suppose I could work on a few more of those experimental blades for you. Maybe even something you'd actually be able to wield without slicing off your own hand."

"You'd patch me up." He says confidently.

I rolled my eyes, but the smile tugging at my lips refused to fade. "Come on," I said, taking his hand. "It's late, and if we don't get some sleep, you'll end up snoring in the training room tomorrow."

We left the nursery behind, the soft glow of starlight spilling through the hallways of the house. The quiet was soothing, the faint hum of magic in the walls a reminder of the safety we'd built here. Cassian's thumb traced absentminded circles over the back of my hand as we walked, his touch grounding me in a way that words never could.

When we reached our bedroom, I let go of his hand to start unbuttoning my coat. Cassian, ever the helpful mate, came up behind me and slid the coat off my shoulders, brushing his lips against the nape of my neck as he did.

"Careful," I warned, though my voice lacked any real bite. "You keep that up, and neither of us will be getting any sleep tonight."

His chuckle was low and rough, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine. "Noted," he murmured, hanging my coat on the nearby rack.

I crossed to the dresser, pulling out one of his old, oversized shirts to sleep in. As I tugged it over my head, I caught Cassian watching me from where he stood by the bed, his hazel eyes dark and unreadable.

"What?" I asked, tugging the hem of the shirt into place.

"Nothing," he said, though the softness in his voice told me otherwise. "Just, you're beautiful."

My cheeks warmed, but I rolled my eyes, trying to deflect the compliment. "You're just trying to butter me up so I'll make you another sword tomorrow."

"Maybe," he admitted with a grin. "But it doesn't make it any less true."

I shook my head, pulling back the covers on the bed and climbing in. Cassian followed, sliding in beside me with a contented sigh. He stretched an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

I rested my head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling me into a sense of peace I hadn't felt all day. His fingers traced lazy patterns along my arm, and for a while, we lay there in comfortable silence, the weight of the day melting away.

"Do you ever think about the future?" I asked quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Every day," he replied, his tone just as soft.

"What do you see?"

He was quiet for a moment, as though he were choosing his words carefully. "I see us," he said finally. "You, me, and the little one. Maybe a couple more, if you're feeling ambitious."

I laughed softly, the sound muffled against his chest. "Ambitious is one word for it."

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "Whatever the future holds, I know one thing for sure."

"What's that?"

His arms tightened around me, his voice filled with unshakable certainty. "I'll love you and fight for you—always."

I closed my eyes, letting his words wrap around me like a warm blanket. "Always," I echoed, my voice heavy with sleep.

Cassian shifted, pulling the covers up around us before settling back down. His warmth and the steady rise and fall of his chest were the last things I felt as I drifted off, safe in the knowledge that no matter what tomorrow brought, we'd face it together.

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[sagesbard]

What song the crew would play while ✨shaboinking✨

CW: NSFW MDNI I do NOT condone any of Jimmy's actions this is an AU where the crash never happens and pony Express is just a regular shipping company.

Curly

Dark red by Steve Lacy

Something about the beat just gets him going yk?

It's not to the point where every time he hears it he pops a boner but it definitely does something to him.

He doesn't normally have music playing in the background when y'all shaboink but sometimes he does it it's already playing.

There have been times where instead of telling you he's horny he just plays that song and you already know what's coming. (Him, he's cumming)

As you go up and down on him his moans echo in the room, bouncing off the walls as the song plays in the background. He's thrusting up into so you can't think straight but in reality he's doing to to the beat like Jimmy does.... The second he slips into you his brain goes on autopilot, the only thing mattering to him at the moment is you.

Seeing red by Dustin Lynch also kinda gets him going but not in the way Dark red does. (I'm just now realizing they both have red on the name what a cawinkydink.

When he listens to it it just makes him think about the two of you.

Daisuke

Redbone by childish Gambino 100%

He likes the slow beat of it but the part near the end turns him on like no tomorrow for some reason.

Probably because by the time that part comes on both of you are messes by that point, your moans paired with that song makes him go absolutely FERAL.

Similar with me and your mama by the same artist except he's a bit rougher with this one.

He actually plays music pretty often when y'all shaboink.

He's used to using music to cover up sounds.

When the base comes in it's almost like clockwork when he bites your neck or something along those lines.

Anya

Moonlight by Kali Uchis

Kinda like Daisuke she likes the slow aspect of it.

It's very relaxed and makes her feel calm in a way.

There have been times where she just needs to unwind so she puts on that song and you automatically know that she's either horny or stressed, both end with you eating her out.

Your fingers slowly going in and out of her as the music continues.

Jimmy

A little bit harder now by she wants revenge

He doesn't catch himself but when he's playing that song he ends up fucking you to the best of it.

His hips grinding against yours as you whine and moan until you realize it's the same speed as the fucking song. Nothing wrong with that though, you didn't mind as long as you got fucked dumb. Which you were every time.

Animal attraction is also on there. But he just plays that to kinda tell you he's in that type of mood ykwim?

The way his heavy breathing matches the beats and knocks of the songs is making your head spin. Each thrust burying himself deeper into you until you can't think straight.

A/N: OMG hiiiiii I haven't posted any head canons in a while so I thought I'd treat y'all to something while I work on my next one shot. Since exam season is over and I'll be spending the holidays with my family the posting schedule will probably be a little iffy. Anyways I love y'all and happy holidays 💗💗

[zombgube-g1rl]

i need him to look at me like that

[sluttythoughtxprincess]

To be devoured..

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

The Tingler (1959) dir. William Castle

[metallicames]

I'm losing my fuckin' minddDDddddD

[sillymiley]

long time no see yall again

i have made redesign of blixer (first one from 2023)

i really like redesign tho i enjoy making them. maybe i'll do something with him (like comics or animatic idk) with other characters when i do designs for them

[chrisbunnys]

this was so. fucking. good.

would it be weird if i said this made me wet..

| after hours c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: chris practically begs his best friend to massage his back, but after an awkward discovery, y/n finds it difficult to keep her hands -- and her eyes -- on the job.

warnings: smut; established friendship; oral (m/f receiving); fingering; hand job; squirting; unprotected p in v; dirty talk(!!!!); 18+

notes: whew! long time no see! life has been putting me through the absolute ringer lately! i haven't felt like a real person in months! i still don't tbh! im working on it! but i have absolutely missed writing and tumblr and u all so much! pls forgive my absence on here i literally haven't even been able to open this app since october when my life went south. my semester is over now so i have one major thing off my plate, so im hoping i can be a bit more consistent with writing. I MISSED U ALL SO SO SO SO MUCH and i hope u enjoy this chrissy one shot that i started months ago and just finally finished it today. love u all <33333

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

“No Chris.” I chuckled, standing up from my couch and walking to my kitchen to put away our leftover dinner. “Please,” I heard him whine behind me, “My back is killing me Y/n.” I turned around, facing my best friend still sitting on the couch where I left him. I laughed at his fake expression of misery, and the hand pressed to his lower back was a nice touch. “Chris, you know I’ve made it a rule not to massage my friends in my free time.” I explained, putting my hands on my hips. He groaned dramatically. “But why? You have all your stuff in the next room!” He began standing up from the couch, being sure to make it seem like a painful struggle.

He was right. I was a licensed massage therapist, and had recently started my own practice from the comfort of my home. I had turned my den into a massage room, fully equipped with a massage table, calming music, and essential oils. But I had made it clear to all of my friends — especially Chris — that I wasn’t going to massage them after-hours. Of course, I would treat them free of charge, but they had to book during normal hours. I was brand new in this career, and I wanted to ensure professionalism right from the start.

“You already know why.” I replied, turning away from him and opening up the fridge to put away my leftovers. As I leaned down into the fridge, I gasped as I suddenly felt a hand press against my lower back. “Just right here.” Chris whispered behind me, circling his thumb along my lower back. “It’ll only take five minutes.” I shuddered at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his touch. Chris had a habit of turning on his sex appeal when he needed something from me, and even though him and I were only friends, it unfortunately worked.

I turned around and closed the fridge, coming face to face with my friend. His eyebrows were knit together in what I could only assume was faux pain, because there was a playful smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair before pointing at the closed french doors leading to my massage room. “Go in there, take off your shirt and lay on the bed. Call me in when you’re under the sheet.”

A smile consumed his entire face, and before I could change my mind he walked over to the room and shut the door behind him.

Chris’s POV:

As I shut the door of the massage room behind me, I stood for a moment to take in the room. She had never let me in the room before, in fact she made it known that she considered it separate from her home and so she didn’t like going into it when she wasn’t working. I always joked around with her because of that, asking her if it was really a secret torture room, but as I saw it for the first time, I couldn’t help but smile. It was professional, but still had personal touches that made it clear that it was hers.

The lights were dim, enough to see clearly but dark enough that everything had a blurry haze to it. It smelled like that shit she diffuses in her bedroom — I think she told me once that it was lavender or something. I noticed the various candles dotted around the room, and took it upon myself to light a few of them. As I lit the last candle on the small table beside the bed, I noticed an old phone connected to a small speaker. Finding that the phone didn’t have a password, I opened it and hit play on the playlist that showed up first, smiling at the title: music that makes strangers fall into my bed.

I chuckled to myself. Not so professional, sweetheart.

Typical spa music filled the small space, and I couldn’t lie, it did add to the meditative atmosphere of the room. Looking at the massage table in the middle of the room, I remembered what I was actually in there for and felt a wave of excitement hit me. I hadn’t been lying when I told her that my back had been hurting — not exactly, at least — but I had definitely been exaggerating. The truth was, I just really wanted to see what her hands could do. Not wanting to waste any more time, I took of my clothes and climbed onto the table, slipping my lower half under the thin white sheet.

“Y/n!” I shouted, “I’m all set!”

Y/n’s POV:

From my place at the kitchen counter, I heard Chris’s voice and my stomach did a flip. I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous, I had given a few of my other friends massages before, but for some reason I had been dreading the idea of giving one to Chris. Maybe it was because him and I had such a playful relationship, and I was so used to being professional with my clients, I couldn’t quite envision how combining my two personalities would go. Still, I took a deep breath and headed for the room.

Once I opened the door, I noticed the candles were lit and soft music was already playing. Looking at Chris, laying face down on the table, I chuckled. “I see you made yourself comfortable.” I remarked. Heading towards him, I noticed the pile of his clothes on the floor, including his sweats and boxers. “Uh Chris,” I began, stopping at the top of his head, “I said you only had to take off your shirt, remember?” He lifted his head from the table, looking up at me briefly. “I know. It’s just that the pain goes pretty low down my back and I figured it would be easier to just take everything off.” There was a playful look in his eyes. “It’s what I’ve seen them do in the movies.” He added softly, making me chuckle.

“It does make it easier,” I replied, moving so that I was now standing on his right side. “It’s really just about what you’re comfortable with.” As I spoke, I began running my hands down his back, from his shoulders down to his tail bone, to check for any tightness. He remained silent underneath me as I applied pressure on certain areas. “So, you said right here is sore?” I asked, pressing down on the same spot that he had when demonstrating on me. I heard a muffled hiss and watched as he nodded his head. “And the pain kind of shoots down to here.” He added, awkwardly moving his arm behind him and trailing it from where my thumb was down to just below the white sheet.

I hummed in acknowledgment, pumping the bottle of massage oil beside me and rubbing it in my hands. “Okay, I’ll get started. Let me know if the pressure is too much.” I said the same thing that I said to all of my clients robotically, before working against his muscle. It was pretty tight, but definitely not as bad as he was making it seem before on the couch. Like I do with my other clients, I stayed silent to encourage him to relax against my pressure. A few groans of pain fell from his lips as I worked, but he encouraged me to keep going each time I asked if he was okay.

I noticed him shuffle a few times under the sheet. “Are you uncomfortable?” I asked him softly, wondering if maybe the massage table was too hard. “N-no, I’m fine.” Was his reply, and even though there was a slightly panicked edge to his voice, I took his word for it and continued working my hands lower down on his back. I felt my cheeks grow hot as my hands pulled the white sheet lower to gain access to his pain. I had never seen this much of Chris’s body before, and even though I was trying to be professional, I felt like the act was a little too intimate.

I rushed to finish up, and after about fifteen minutes I was satisfied that the knot in his back had improved. “Alright, I think I’m done. Want to flip onto your back for me?” I asked, pulling the sheet up slightly. “W-why?” Chris asked, his tone filled with alarm. “I usually finish every session with a neck massage. Sometimes the neck gets stiff from the way it lays when you’re on your stomach.” I replied. “Oh, uh, it’s okay.” He replied, refusing to move. I rolled my eyes. “What? Not even 30 minutes ago you were begging me for a massage, and now you’re turning it down?” I crossed my arms and moved over to his head, “Come on, turn over. It won’t take long.” I reassured him.

He sighed, and, holding onto the edge of the sheet, slowly turned over. I stifled a gasp, because between his legs, the thin white sheet had tented, and I could clearly see the outline of his erection. I was thrown off, unable to take my eyes away from it, but quickly recovered — clearing my throat and dropping my eyes to his face. His eyes were still closed and his cheeks were flushed; I could tell he was embarrassed. In a normal circumstance, I would think that I would have made a joke about it, and he would have just told me to shut up. But at that moment, there was something so real about his exposure and humiliation, and so I knew that I would just ignore it.

I began massaging his neck, trying to focus on my actions and regain my professionalism. But, I couldn’t stop looking at the white sheet; it being the only thing between his cock and my eyes. I could tell that it was huge, and I watched as it grew harder and harder as I continued working his neck. It went from standing straight up and wobbling in the air as Chris breathed, to being pressed right against his front. The sheet draped around it, perfectly outlining its girth, and I could see a small bead of dampness taint the sheet a translucent shade of white at its tip. My mouth watered and my mind wandered. I felt my own body begin to react to the sight in front of me, and the tension in the room began to grow so heavy that I began to gasp for air.

“I-is the pressure okay?” I asked, doing my very best to keep my voice strong as I worked his neck. I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nervously before nodding his head. “It’s good, Y/n.” His reply was so simple, but there was something about the gruff undertone, the almost indiscriminate breathlessness as he said my name, that caused my knees to weaken and my throat to turn into a desert. Suddenly, I could no longer hear the soft music playing throughout the room as my blood pumped deafeningly in my ears. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from his bulge for more than a few seconds at a time — it seemed so hard that it had to be painful. My eyes continued to flutter between his flushed face and pulsing member until suddenly, when my eyes returned to his face, his bright blue eyes were wide open and staring right at me.

I felt a new wave of heat crawl up my face at the fact that I had just been caught red-handed staring at the one thing in this room that both of us had been actively ignoring. I opened my mouth to attempt to explain myself, but his words beat me to it. “I’m sorry.” He murmured sheepishly, his face turning the same shade of red that I imagined mine to be as he squeezed his eyes shut. Immediately, I began shaking my head rapidly. Partially as a reassurance to him and partially as an attempt at erasing the last two minutes of my life. “No! Don’t be sorry. It happens all the time.” I rushed out, doing my best to make light of the situation. “No it doesn’t.” He replied flatly, with a hint of disbelief in his voice. I forced a chuckle. “Okay fine, it doesn’t happen all the time. But its not not normal.” I tried again, brushing a soft curl out of his face.

Chris was silent for a moment, his eyes still squeezed shut in either embarrassment or concentration. I had stopped massaging his neck, but my hands were still on his damp skin; my thumbs drawing gentle circles against his rapid pulse. After a moment, an exasperated sigh fell from his lips. “It won’t go away.” He said, his voice laced with genuine disgust. “I’m sorry Y/n, this is creepy.” A forced laugh, then another sigh.

The room fell silent again as I tried to find the right words to fill the space. Words that would reassure him more genuinely than more “it’s okay’s”. Because, from the way my pulse had quickened, and from the way my core had grown so slick from arousal that I could feel it dripping steadily onto my panties, it really was okay. It was more than okay. So, instead of trying to find the words that could possibly portray just how okay it was, I leaned down and pressed my lips to his.

I felt him tense at the first brush of my lips against his, clearly shocked by the sudden close proximity of our mouths; closer than they had ever been before. So, I pulled away for a moment, finding his piercing eyes to search them for whatever thought is running in his mind. They were wild, racing across my face trying to make sense of what just happened. But there was something else there, something erotic that was blurring the line between right and wrong. Between professionalism and spontaneity. Between friends that fuck around and friends that fuck. I could tell that we were both balancing on that same fine line, but when I brought my lips back down to his, and when he opened his mouth to welcome mine with the kind of hunger than can never be satiated, I knew that we both came to the same conclusion.

Our lips moulded together in rhythmic wonder as our tongues explored each other. Immediately, I felt his body relax as his hands reached up and wrapped themselves in my hair. A soft moan of satisfaction fell from his lips as I nibbled on his bottom lip, causing my body to react in a way that was foreign to me. I felt goosebumps raise up across my skin as if his hands were all over it. He pulled his lips from mine and used his grip on my hair to tilt my head to the side, giving his swollen lips access to my neck. He sucked and nibbled against my electric skin just below my ear, and I felt as though I could fall apart and dissolve into a puddle just from that. “L-let me make you feel better.” I managed to moan out through the waves of pleasure I was feeling. My eyes wouldn’t leave the rock hard bulge under the white sheet, just barely out of my reach. Chris groaned against my neck at my words, and I watched as his cock twitched under the sheet as if it heard my words itself and was begging me to help it.

After another moment of Chris devouring my neck, tasting every inch of it as if he couldn’t get enough, his grip on my hair loosened and he allowed me to straighten up. I looked down at his face, now even more flushed than before. His lips had gone bright pink and were so beautifully swollen from their journey against my skin. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and, after a short moment, his eyes fluttered open and landed on me. “You sure you want to do this?” He asked, his voice slightly tentative, and I knew what he meant.

A kiss between friends is one thing. It can be brushed off as a slight moment of weakness, can be something that the two friends can one day laugh about as they look back on their friendship. It can be never spoken of again, can be hidden from their other friends deep in the vault of the minds of the two people that shared it. But anything more than that, any other touching, or licking, or exploring of the other person is not as easily ignorable. In friendships there is deep love and strong understanding of the other person. Once that love and understanding collides with the act of literally merging together, of being as physically close to another that you can be in this lifetime, it’s not so easy to ignore. My mind may not be able to shut out the events that transpire with Chris tonight ever again. We may never be able to chalk it all up to a moment of weakness, or keep it a secret from our mutual friends. We may never have the same friendship we had before I agreed to this massage. But there is no way to know that for sure. What I did know for sure in that moment, with Chris staring up at me with eyes filled with intoxicating desire, with my own body vibrating with lust, was that I wanted this.

So without a word, I walked down his body towards his beckoning cock. I took a moment to just gaze at it, closer to it now than I had been all night. I rested a hand on his thigh hidden beneath the sheet, and watched as his cock once again twitched. I chewed on my bottom lip in an attempt to keep myself from moaning just from the sight, and after a moment let my eyes flutter back up to his face. “I’m sure Chris.” I replied softly, searching his expression. “Are you?” I asked, realizing that he was likely considering the same potential outcome that I had been. He kept my gaze for a brief moment, his eyes focusing on different parts of my face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He replied finally, a cheeky smile growing on his face. I felt my own expression mirror his own, and without wasting another second I began peeling the thin sheet down his waist.

My smile fell the moment his bare cock was finally exposed, and was replaced by what I knew was the expression of desperate hunger. His length was impressively long, and I felt my mouth water at the thought of running my tongue along its veins up to its swollen head. Reaching to my left, I pumped some massage oil into my hand. I brought my cupped hand above his upright cock and let the oil drip between my fingers and coat him. He released a sharp hiss at the feeling of the oil as it trailed down his length towards his base, and I watched as his hips thrust forward desperately from the barely-there contact. A bead of pre-cum suddenly dripped from his slit, and I used my thumb to collect it before finally pumping my hand up and down his shaft. Immediately, a deep moan fell from Chris’s lips as I worked his oiled cock in my hand. I focused on his body language as I adjusted my movements to figure out exactly what he needed to feel good.

When I went slow, I watched his breath grow steady, telling me that I should pick up the pace. When I used a softer touch as I moved along his cock his hands would stay relaxed at his side, but I knew he liked it when I used a bit more pressure along his tip as his hands would tighten into fists against the sheet. But when I used both hands, twisting in opposite directions with the occasional brush against his balls with my pinky, I discovered that was what he liked most of all. A deep grunt followed by a moan fell from his lips, and his right hand flew to my upper thigh; where he gripped so hard I was sure that he would leave a bruise. “Fuck, Y/n.” He breathed out as I continued with these movements.

His hand traveled further and further up my leg until his fingers slipped under my loose-fitting shorts. I continued to stroke him with both hands, even when I felt the tip of his fingers just milimetres from my trembling core. They brushed against the ever-so-soft place between my pelvis and my pussy, and I bit back a moan. Subconsciously, I adjusted myself so that my legs were wider apart; giving him access to touch even more of me. My hands continued to work his cock as his fingers inched closer and closer, before finally, I felt the very tip of just one of his fingers reach my core and dip into its warmth. My knees buckled at the barely-there contact just as he released a muffled moan. “Jesus fuck, Y/n,” My eyes flew to his face and the translucent arousal that I found all across it was almost enough to push me over the edge. “Put that on my face right fucking now.”

His demand was so jarring, his voice so gritty and raw, that I didn’t hesitate before peeling my shorts down my legs, lifting myself onto the massage chair, and straddling his face. Immediately, his hands gripped onto my thighs and pulled them apart; giving his eyes untethered access to my glistening core. “You’re fucking soaked.” His words came out in an almost-whisper, as if he hadn’t actively planned on speaking them aloud. Still, they shot straight to my lust and I leaned forward, resting my head against his chest to allow him to see even more of me.

I gasped as I felt his thumb against my slit, collecting my arousal. I heard a wet sound and then another deep moan. “So good.” He whispered before suddenly his warm mouth was suctioned to my clit. Immediately, I dissolved into a puddle of desire as his tongue swirled and licked against my sensitive bundle of nerves. Moans fell from my lips as my brain turned to mush from the relief of finally having his mouth on me. I began moving my hips against his face, chasing a high that I so desperately needed. Satisfied moans slipped from his mouth into me, and I felt a sharp slap against my ass cheek that added to my intense need.

I had turned into nothing more than a dead weight on top of him, his lethal tongue paralyzing me. But as I opened my mouth to release a guttural moan, I felt my lip brush against the tip of his cock. Without a second thought, I slipped his cock into my mouth and began pumping up and down. Another moan fell from Chris, vibrating against my clit and causing me to moan around his girth. “Fuck.” Chris muttered against me, and I responded by deep throating his cock until my nose pressed against his bare thigh. “Mmmm, Y/n.” Chris breathed, removing his mouth from my clit. I stopped my movements as well, waiting on shaky legs for him to continue.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum.” He began, gently running his knuckles against my ass cheek. “And I don’t want to do that yet.” He slipped two fingers into my core effortlessly, causing me to immediately begin rocking against them. “Mmm. Thatta girl.” He breathed, presumably watching for a moment as I rode his fingers just inches above his face. “What I want you to do is focus on making a mess all over my face, then after that I want to cum with these tight walls wrapped around me.” His words caused my eyes to roll to the back of my head, and a sharp moan fell from my lips. “Sound good?” He asked, his voice muffled as he reattached his mouth to my throbbing clit. I nodded my head maniacally as he resumed his impressive movements against my nerves. He kept his fingers inside of me, and as I slid my soaked cunt against his face, I cried out at the added sensation of his fingers filling me.

“Fuck C-Chris.” I moaned, my words nearly incomprehensible as I grew closer and closer to my climax. He could tell that I was quickly approaching, and tightened his grip on my ass cheek with his free hand; pressing my cunt so hard against his face I was afraid that he would suffocate. “G-gonna cum!” I warned him just before the tumultuous waves of my orgasm took over. My body began shaking as I came hard against his face. I had never before felt so out of control of my own body, and relished in the feeling as my back arched and a plethora of moans fell from my mouth. I felt a gush as I squirted against Chris’s mouth, and trembled at the guttural moan he released as he began lapping me up.

Once my mind reattached to my body and my orgasm had finishing ripping through me, I rested my head against his stomach as he ran his hands along my tense back and dropped gentle kisses against my sensitive core. He let me lie there on top of him for a few moments, catching my breath and slowing my heart rate, before gently lifting my limp body off of him and sliding off of the massage table. I sat up on the edge of the table, facing his standing figure before me, and my gaze landed on his excruciatingly hard cock. He grabbed my chin and lifted my head up before pressing his wet lips harshly against mine. He tasted like me, and immediately a new wave of arousal filled my core.

As his tongue flicked into my mouth, I reached between our bodies and began stroking his cock. He thrusted into my hand instinctively, and a moan fell from his lips as his hand shot to my core where he drew torturously slow circles against my over-stimulated clit. Caught up in how good we were making the other feel, our kissing slowed and our mouths eventually turned into matching O’s; eyes shut in pure bliss. I dropped my forehead against his bare chest, and watched as our hands worked on the other’s body, slowly working up the nerve to do the one thing we hadn’t yet done with each other.

“You still want to do this?” Chris asked, his voice strained. I jolted slightly at his words, shocked at the fact that he seemed to be reading my mind. A sharp wave of pleasure hit me from his fingers and I moaned softly before looking back up at him. “Mhmm.” I breathed, meaning it. “Do you?” I asked in return as I felt his cock jump in my hand. “So much.” He replied before lowering his head and planting another deep, wet kiss against my mouth. After a moment, he grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and pulled it over my head. He took a moment to admire my bare chest before kissing each of my painfully pebbled nipples. “God, you’re unreal Y/n.” He moaned, running firm hands against my completely naked frame. I arched my back against his touch and shut my eyes blissfully.

He leaned forward and ran his tongue along my collar bone. “You ready?” He asked. I felt his hand replace mine on his shaft, and bit my lip as I felt him line the head up with my soaked core. He used his free hand to hold firmly onto my lower back, and I wrapped my legs around his waist; using the grip to press him against me. “I’m ready.” I replied breathlessly, looking up at him through my eyelashes. Without wasting a second, Chris kept his glazed eyes on mine as he slowly pressed his hips into me. My jaw dropped as his girth stretched my walls out further than I thought possible, and the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain that can not truly be described with words turned my brain into mush.

Chris hissed as he bottomed out in me, his cock taking up every inch of my cunt. He remained still as he rested his forehead against mine, his breath erratic and hitched. “Fuck.” He finally groaned out, his body more tense than I’d ever seen it. “You okay?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck. He nodded. “I’m gonna cum in, like, record speed here Y/n.” He replied, taking deep breaths and keeping his forehead pressed to mine. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s okay Chris,” I replied, running my hands through his hair. “Just give me what you’ve got.”

My last seductive whisper seemed to give him the motivation to power through, because immediately he snapped his hips into me. I released a sharp moan from the depth of his movements, and that was enough to bring him fully back into it. Using the grip he had on my lower back, he plowed into me relentlessly. My eyes were rolled into the back of my head as I felt my walls stretch with each thrust; allowing him to hit my g-spot each time. “Jesus!” I cried out, gripping onto his shoulders in a weak attempt at holding onto my sanity.

“You’re so f-fucking tight.” Chris groaned into my shoulder as he continued to drive his ruthless cock into me. The room filled with the sounds of our bodies smacking against each other, adding to the indescribable arousal I was filled with. Chris’s hands began travelling all across my body, taking his time on my tits as his thumbs drew circles around my hardened nipples. He gave my tits a harsh squeeze before travelling down my stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps on my skin as he reached my clit and began rubbing it in rhythm with his thrusts. “God, keep going baby.” I moaned, wrapping my legs even tighter around Chris’s waist, “F-feels s-so good!” I cried just as Chris lifted me up off the table and slammed me into the wall. I released a sharp gasp from the shock, but as he continued pounding into me, my pleasure was intensified.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Chris growled as he nibbled against the skin on my neck. “You always this fucking wet?” His dirty words make my head spin. “N-no. I’m n-not.” I reply honestly, feeling my juices spread all over his front. A wicked smile covers his face. “Just for me then, huh?” His tone was arrogant, but there was an undertone of overwhelming arousal in it that told me he needed it to be true. I nodded my head rapidly. “Y-yes Chris! O-only this wet f-for y-you.” I managed to reply just before my second orgasm swept in and overtook me.

Just as I began riding my high — my nails digging into his skin and my mouth sputtering out profanities — Chris stilled inside of me and released a ragged “Oh fuck!”. I felt his cock pulse inside of me, painting my walls with his warm seed as my orgasm milked him dry. He released soft grunts against my neck as he rode through his own high, and I relished in the feeling of his cum as it dripped from my cunt.

After a while, both of our bodies relaxed and we rested against one another as we caught our breath. I waited for the overwhelming feeling of regret to wash over me, as one would expect it to after fucking your best friend, but it never came. In fact, I was so relaxed in that post-sex liminal space, pressed against the wall with Chris’s softening cock resting in my core, that I almost couldn’t believe that we had never done that before.

I was pulled from that thought by Chris placing a deeply passionate kiss to my lips. There was no lust, no untethered desire attached to it; it was almost as though this kiss was the end of one chapter of our lives and the beginning of a new, more exciting one. Our lips moved in slow motion, as if we had kissed like this a thousand times. With his lips still on mine, Chris slowly helped me down so my feet were on the ground. After another moment of our mouths merged as one, I pulled away and was immediately wrapped in a hug. Chris’s warm body felt so familiar, even more familiar than before, and I closed my eyes and took in the moment, as I knew it was the start of something new.

“Well, I think we have some things we should figure out,” Chris said, and I felt a soft chuckle against my head tucked into his chest. “Because I don’t know about you, but there is no way I can go the rest of my life without doing that again.” It was my turn to laugh, and I pulled myself out of his arms and looked up at his face. “I think I am officially under your spell.” I replied, feigning a smile. “Let’s go sit down and figure this all out.” I grabbed my discarded shirt and threw it over my head before walking towards my living room. “Oh by the way Y/n,” Chris grabbed me by my waist from behind as we walked through the door, “My back feels great now, in case you were curious.” I rolled my eyes with a smile and continued walking. “You have magical hands.” He whispered, and all I could do was laugh and give him a half-hearted shove.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[muncedes]

joey b making his o line gifts meaningful i just know he’s the most wholesome boyfriend for christmas

[dressycobra7]

@aimless--photography @oracleact

i love u sukuna

[dudeihateitherelol]

I bet we’d have really good bed chem 🥰🤫😣

[cuntphoric]

what does gojo do with his cum with reader? i gotta know!!

i dunno its DEFINITELY a mix of any and everywhere. he cums on your face, tits, ass, thighs, etc. or he cums in you. its literally a gamble of what he does.

he rubs it all over you, licks it off, sometimes wipes it off if hes feeling too tired and just wants a fast one, or he leaves it to take a pic for his personal 'beat meat' album.

i like to think if hes pumping his fingers into you till you cum; he'll continue the second you came, he'll keep going until you're leaking and till his fingers are covered in your release. and he'll be all happy after it too.

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price - Las Vegas Story (1952)

[madamechrissy]

🫠 ughhh Satoru is perfect in this 🤌🤌

idk, i've been thinkin about long distance satoru :') just a little something i wrote while experiencing a bit of writers block. it's inspired on a military relationship but it can really be just any long distance!

warnings: nsfw, mdni 18+, smut and fluff

long-distance! satoru whose heart aches when you have to say goodbye, holding you closer just a little bit longer than usual as he tries to memorize every detail—the warmth of your body, the scent of your hair, the way your arms fit perfectly around him. he knows that the absence of your touch will leave him feeling empty again, a void only you can fill.

long-distance! satoru who texts you every morning and night, because you are the first and last thing on his mind.

long-distance! satoru who calls you late one night after a long mission. exhausted but unable to sleep, he finds comfort in the sound of your voice.

“mmm… ‘toru?” the innocent sound of your sleepy voice immediately melts him, his tension easing from your soothing whisper.

“heya sleepy head…you got a minute?”

you stay on the phone with him all night, talking about everything and nothing, until you fall asleep.

long-distance! satoru who listens to your soft, rhythmic breathing through the phone, and quietly confesses how much he misses you, how the sound of your voice and the warmth of your embrace are the only things that keep him grounded in a world that feels increasingly cold without you.

long-distance! satoru who loves when you send him a compilation of short videos to watch, just knowing that you thought of him, carefully selecting each clip to bring a smile to his face. he replays them over and over, allowing himself to feel closer to you, as if each clip is a tiny piece of you that he can hold onto.

long-distance! satoru who dreams of your future together, when the distance will no longer separate you. he envisions the day when he can finally hold you close and never let go. he dreams of lazy mornings spent tangled in the sheets with you, of quiet evenings where you can simply be together without the constant ache of longing. these dreams are what keep him going, a promise of a future where he can finally be by your side, where this long-distance heartache will be nothing but a memory.

long-distance! satoru whose breath hitches when you surprise him when a naughty photo while he’s working.

“fucking hell woman…what are you doing to me?”

long-distance! satoru whose cock strains against his uniform as he sits at his desk, the tantalizing image of you searing itself into his mind, leaving him desperate to touch himself, to feel some semblance of the closeness he craves.

long-distance! satoru who grips his weeping cock as he strokes himself in the privacy of his room, his thoughts consumed by you. the distance between you fades away in his fantasies, replaced by the heat of your body, the taste of your skin, the sound of your voice in his ear.

“fuck princess… I miss you so fucking much,” he whimpers nearing his edge, body trembling as hot spurts of cum paint him pretty, your name falling from his lips as he coats himself with the evidence of his need, his need to fuck you senseless.

long-distance! satoru who lies there afterward, breathless and spent, staring at the ceiling as the reality of your absence settles back in. there’s a bittersweet ache, because he knows it’s not enough—it’ll never be enough until he has you back in his arms, for real.

long-distance! satoru who surprises you with an unexpected visit, appearing at your doorstep after months of being apart. his duty bag slides off his shoulder in the doorframe and his arms open wide, inviting you for the embrace you’ve been yearning for.

“miss me, princess?” his boyish grin is blurred from the happy tears in your eyes, and you immediately throw yourself into his welcoming arms.

long-distance! satoru who wraps around you tightly, lifting you off your feet as he spins you around, laughter filling the air. the warmth of his body against yours is almost overwhelming, and you cling to him, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you inhale the familiar scent of him.

long-distance! satoru who doesn’t even make it past the doorway before his lips find yours, all teeth and tongue as he kicks the door shut with his foot. his hands roam your body with a hunger that borders on feral.

“let me make up for lost time,” he groans against your lips, a promise and a plea as he presses you against the nearest wall, hips grinding against yours, and you feel just how hard, how desperate, he has been for you.

long-distance! satoru who finally, after months of longing and aching, finds himself buried deep inside you, your bodies moving in perfect sync as if no time has passed at all. the sound of your moans, the way you cling to him—it’s everything he’s been dreaming of, and more.

long-distance! satoru who pours everything he’s been holding back into this moment, into you. he groans your name, voice strained with the effort to hold on just a little longer, to make this last, because honestly, he could have cum moments after entering you—your cunt is just too fucking delicious.

long-distance! satoru who knows exactly how to bring you to your own edge, who’s learned your body, knows what makes you gasp, what makes you moan, what makes you arch against him in that delicious way that drives him to the brink.

“cum for me, princess” he commands. and when you do, when your body clenches around him, pulling him deeper, it’s his undoing.

long-distance! satoru who finally lets go with a shuddering gasp, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave.

“fuck, I love you,” he groans, hands gripping your hips as he buries his face in your neck, his needy moans muffled against your skin as he spills his seed inside you, body trembling with the explosive force of it.

long-distance! satoru, who holds you close afterward, your bodies tangled together as you come down from the high. he presses soft kisses to your temple, your shoulder, your lips, whispering sweet nothings as you both drift off to sleep, content in the knowledge that, at least for now, the distance is no more.

[souperbloom]

ashton’s facial expressions when he drums like if you agree