#i want to literally rub my hand on his chest

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Bucky realizes just how dirty minded reader is after playing Cards Against Humanity with their friends, and realizes how to use it his advantage.

Dirty Mind » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky finds out how much of a dirty mind you have during game night with your friends and uses it to his advantage.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, vibranium arm kink, praise kink, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie🩵 also, I’ve never played Cards of Humanity so this is based off of what I Googled and looked up on Pinterest

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

You managed to convince Bucky to go to game night at your friend’s house tonight. Actually, you promised him that you would buy him plums if he would go with you. In other words, you bribed a Super Soldier with plums.

Anyway, now here you two are. You guys are in the middle of playing of Cards Against Humanity. Bucky isn’t playing, because he doesn’t understand the game so he’s just watching. He’s also looking at your cards, which are pretty graphic to him, but he’s not complaining.

Bucky watched you put a card down after your friends did. He leaned forward to read it. His eyes went wide when he read it. That’s when he realized how dirty minded you are. He leaned back against the couch and smirked to himself, thinking of how he can use your dirty mind to his advantage.

You decided to stay the night at Bucky’s apartment after leaving your friend’s house. As soon as you closed the door, Bucky pinned you against it, catching you by surprise.

“Who knew that you had such a dirty mind, doll.” Bucky says in almost a whisper.

You bit your bottom lip and giggled, looking up at him.

“I thought I was making it pretty damn obvious all along, Bucky.” You say seductively, rubbing your hands against his strong chest.

“I’m sure you were, doll face. I just didn’t realize it until now what a dirty fucking girl you are.” He says lowly.

Bucky’s eyes flickered down to your cleavage, getting a clear view of it in the shirt you’re wearing. He bit his bottom lip when he got an idea. He nudged his leg in between yours to move them apart. You gasped when you felt his thigh touch your panty covered pussy. “Good thing I wore a skirt today.” You thought to yourself.

“Are you going to be a good girl and take everything I give you, babydoll?” He asks.

“Yes, Bucky.” You answered submissively.

“Good girl.” He praises.

Bucky’s vibranium hand disappears underneath your skirt, finding its way to your wet panties. His vibranium fingers rubbed your clit through your panties before moving them to the side. A shiver went through your body when you felt the cool feeling of his vibranium fingers touching your pussy. His fingers rubbed against your folds, smearing your slick around. You couldn’t help but look down at his vibranium hand in between your legs.

“Looks like I have a dirty girl on my hands.” Bucky whispers in your ear.

Literally.

“I bet I can get you to cum so fast with my vibranium fingers.” He said softly in your ear. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you staring at it.” He says with a smirk.

“Bucky, please!” You whined.

“What do you want, babydoll? Tell me what you want.” He says, kissing your neck.

“I want you to- fuck… I want you to fuck me with your vibranium fingers.” You tell him through a moan.

You felt the tips of Bucky’s vibranium fingers circling your entrance before sliding two fingers in your pussy. A soft moan left your lips at the feeling of the cool vibranium in and against your pussy.

Bucky watched the expressions on your face change each time he thrusted his vibranium fingers in and out of your pussy. Your eyes fluttered shut and you leaned your head against the door. He took the opportunity to kiss along the column of your throat. His teeth nipped at your skin.

“Bucky…” You moaned breathless.

“I love the way you moan my name, doll.” Bucky murmurs softly.

Bucky sped his fingers up, curling them and hitting your sweet spot perfectly. You bucked your hips against his vibranium hand and moaned loudly.

“Did I find your little spot?” He coos.

You moaned and nodded. Bucky curled his fingers every now and then as his fingers continued to fuck you. He curled his fingers against your sweet spot again, making your knees buckle. Bucky wrapped his free arm around your waist to keep you from falling.

“Your legs getting weak already, babydoll?” Bucky asks in soft voice.

Your hands held onto his chest and you nodded your head yes.

“Tell me, doll…” He begins, kissing just below your ear. “What else do you have on that dirty little mind of yours?” He asks curiously.

“I- oh fuck…” You paused to moaned. “I want you to fuck me in every position you can think of all over this fucking apartment.” You admitted. “I want you to spank me and choke me too.” You added.

“Fuck…” He growls, feeling his cock become uncomfortably hard in his jeans. “I’ll fuck you all you want as soon as you cum on my fingers.” He says.

Bucky sped his fingers up. His thumb applied pressure to your clit as he rubbed it. Your hands clutched the fabric of his t-shirt. Your orgasm was building up fast. It felt like you were going to fall apart on his vibranium fingers any second.

“Oh fuck! Bucky!” You moaned loudly, throwing your head back against the door.

“I know you’re close. Cum for me, doll.” He says lowly.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and a pornographic moan left your lips when you came. Bucky’s vibranium fingers fucked you through your orgasm. His fingers came to a stop and his thumb gave your clit one last rub before he took his fingers out of your pussy.

You lifted your head at the same time Bucky licked your cum off his vibranium fingers, moaning at your taste. You felt a new wave of wetness while watching him do that.

“You taste incredible.” Bucky said. “I hope you’re ready, because you’re in for a long night, babydoll.” He says lowly with a smirk plastered on his face.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Christmas.

chapter synopsis - Christmas doesn’t feel like Christmas for you this year. Bucky’s determined to change that.

pairing - dads bestfriend!bucky barnes x female reader - soulmate au

warnings - cursing.

word count - 2.5k

authors note - I know what you’re thinking… murphy, this is a christmas chapter and it’s january 2nd. and yes, I know. I admit that I had a lot less time than I initially anticipated over the festive period to write. regardless, I hope you enjoy this. it’s a flashback, set between chapters 6 and 7 <3

series masterlist. main masterlist. inbox.

“You have icing on your face.”

You chuckle as Isabel rubs at your cheek with her sleeve, trying to be gentle but failing miserably.

“What colour?”

“Green.”

“Christmas cookies,” you say as you smack her hand away, laughing when she glares at you playfully. “The kitchen is covered in red and green icing. It looks like an elf was murdered in there.”

“That sounds festive. And morbid. And… delicious?”

“You want to take some home?”

“Yes!” she gasps with excitement. “I was telling my brother about them yesterday, he’s desperate to try some.”

“Remind me later, and I’ll grab you a box.”

“Thank you. You’re the best.”

You’re rising from your chair to return to the kitchen when Isa grabs your hand, pulling you back down. You quirk a brow at her in confusion, asking a silent question.

“You’re going home for Christmas, right?”

She’s squeezing your hand rather tightly, waiting like an eager puppy for your response.

“I, uh - yeah. I think I am. Need to make sure I get back here in plenty of time for opening between the twenty fifth and new year.”

“Girl… what? That means you’ll only be home for a few days. That’s not a real Christmas.”

“It’s okay, it’s just the way things are. It’ll be a super busy few days anyway, knowing my Mom.”

She looks at you intently for a moment, and you can practically see the wheels turning in her brain.

“We’ll cover you.”

“Isa… what?”

“We’ll cover it. Me, Stella, and we can get Justin and Mikey to help too. They’re coming to give us a hand over the next few weeks anyway, so they might as well pull their weight.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you, that’s what we’re going to do.”

“Isa-”

“Please. You’re the backbone of this place - it’d quite literally fall apart without you. The least you deserve is some decent time off with your family back home. You deserve a proper Christmas.”

You’re quiet for a moment, contemplating everything. The more you think about it, the more you’re tempted - the idea of more time with your parents and Bucky is too good to pass up.

“Only if Stella agrees. And you can’t convince her - she has to agree on her own terms.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“I should be thanking you,” you laugh, shaking your head.

“Okay, now leave.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been here since 4am. Please, go home.”

“Isa.”

“I am so serious right now. Look at my face. Look at how serious I am.”

You can’t help but laugh at her, the stoic expression she wears doing nothing to hide the amusement behind those big brown eyes.

“Fine, fine. Man, you’re bossy today.”

“I’m learning from the best.”

You hit her with your dish towel, punishment for the jab she made. She’s giggling like a maniac, skipping back to her place behind the counter.

“Isa - call me if you need anything, yeah?”

“Always.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You’ve been in the same spot on the couch for an hour when there’s a knock at your door. Reluctantly, you get up to answer it, disappointed about leaving the cocoon you’ve made so comfortable.

Your hand is on the door knob when you feel a sudden rush of warmth through your chest, spreading rapidly to the tips of your fingers and the soles of your feet. Suddenly, everything is a little bit brighter, more colourful, more vibrant. The birds are chirping louder, the sun setting in a more beautiful shade of orange than before.

He’s here.

You swing the door open to reveal Bucky, standing looking hopeful with his overnight bag in his hand. He gets even more beautiful every time you see him. His hair is a little longer, his stubble growing out slightly, freckles scattered across his golden cheeks. He looks like the sun has come down to earth and given him a kiss, just because.

“You’re here.”

“I’m here.”

He’s wrapping his arms around you before you can move, creating a safety net that blankets you both. You breathe him in, the scent of the ocean and musk and wood and home.

“What are you doing here?” you mumble against the soft cotton of his t shirt.

“Came to surprise you. Thought we could have our own Christmas, the two of us.”

“Really?” you ask as you pull back to look at him.

“Really. Isabel says you’ve been working too hard, and that you need a pick me up.”

“You talk to Isa?”

“We’re friends on Facebook.”

You laugh like you can’t help it, shaking your head at the idea of the two of them messaging each other.

“She was very adamant about sending me home today. It all makes sense now.”

“Our master plan worked,” he chuckles, stepping inside and kicking the door closed behind him.

You’ve almost forgotten how easily Bucky fits into your space, like he belongs there. He throws his bag down and sits down on your couch, sinking into the cushions like they’re moulded to his shape, ready and waiting for him to return.

“How long are you here for?” you ask as you slide yourself into his side, slotting in perfectly.

“Just a couple of days. And then I’ll see you back home for Christmas with your parents, yeah?”

“You’re coming? My Mom said she wasn’t sure whether you were or not.”

“I can’t say no to one of Lori’s Christmas dinners. I’ll come over at lunch time, give you guys the morning to yourselves. Won’t overstay my welcome, promise.”

“You could never overstay your welcome, Buck. Not possible.”

He presses a kiss into your hair, pulling you closer so there isn’t an inch of space between you.

“I got you a present. Wanted to give it to you while we’re alone.”

“You did? I thought we said we weren’t gonna do gifts?”

“We did. But I know for a fact you got me something, didn’t you?”

You chuckle, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Yes, I did.”

“Knew it. And anyway, I didn’t buy it. I made it.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him in curiosity, watching as he bounds across the living room to rifle around in his bag. When he finds what he’s looking for, he jumps over the back of the sofa, returning to his original place next to you.

“Here.”

It’s wrapped very precisely, a book sized rectangle with neat corners and careful folds. There’s a red ribbon tied around the centre, and the idea of Bucky sitting and trying to get it just right makes your heart ache.

You unwrap it gently, reluctant to undo all of his hard work. He’s watching you intently, determined to see every little reaction on your face.

Sitting in your hand is a leather bound book, with a forest green coloured cover. Your name is engraved into the front of it, carved into the material forever. You open it up to find that it isn’t blank, but contains templates of some sort, the pages covered with very faint geometric lines.

“What is it, Buck?”

He grins, turning some of the pages so he can show you.

“It’s a blank cookbook. Thought you could write down the final copies of the recipes that work after you’ve developed them, have them all in one place.”

“I love it,” you whisper, running your fingers over the pages. “What’s this pattern? On the paper?”

“It’s the blueprints. For our house.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“I made them as transparent as possible, so your eyes wouldn’t get distracted. But I wanted to have a piece of us in it, to remind you.”

“It’s the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received,” you smile, willing yourself not to cry about it. “I love it so much, Buck. Thank you.”

He leans in to press a gentle kiss to your lips, all sugary sweet.

“My turn, now. Though lower your expectations, please.”

He rolls his eyes, laughing when you shove at his shoulder. You pull his gift from the drawer in the coffee table, handing him a small box.

He opens it carefully, lifting the lid to reveal a navy bracelet, all woven and intricate. He turns it over to look at the inside, gently tracing the embroidery with his fingertips.

“They’re our birth flowers.”

“I didn’t even know I had a birth flower,” he chuckles in awe. “Honey, it’s… it’s beautiful.”

“I made it.”

His head whips up, eyes wide as he stares at you.

“You made this?”

“I went to a class with Stella and Isa, it was like an introduction thing. And I knew how to embroider anyway, so that bit was easy.”

“I can’t believe you. Is there anything you can’t do?”

You’re laughing as you shake your head, dismissing his attempts to massage your ego.

“Like I said, it was a workshop.”

“I love it so much, honey girl. Thank you. I’ll never take it off.”

“Never?”

“Never,” he murmurs against your lips, big hands cradling your face as he pulls you closer. “Never ever.”

He kisses you with purpose, one hand gripping the back of your neck as the other wraps around your back to plaster you to him. You tilt your head to let him slip his tongue into your mouth, tasting the coffee he must have been drinking on the drive down.

Just as you’re about to pull his shirt up and over his head, his stomach rumbles louder than you’ve ever heard it.

“What have you eaten today?” you chuckle, carding your fingers through his hair to fix it.

“I had an early lunch, but I haven’t had dinner yet. Have you?”

“Not yet. You wanna make something?”

“Cake.”

“Huh?”

“I think we should make a cake for dinner.”

“Bucky Barnes. What is wrong with you?”

He laughs all full and warm, and the timbre of it settles nicely into your chest.

“I’ve been thinking about all the stuff I’m missing out on now that you’re here and not at home. The cakes, the cookies, the macaroons, the tarts…”

His stomach rumbles again as he clutches it dramatically, throwing himself backwards onto the couch cushions.

“And so you want cake for our Christmas dinner?”

“Yes I do.”

You can’t fight the grin that’s sweeping across your face, no matter how much you want to.

“Let me make you something to keep you going while I create the best cake for dinner you’ve ever had.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

A huge kiss is planted onto your cheek, joy practically radiating off your soulmate next to you.

“I’ll make myself a sandwich, honey. I know it’s gonna take you a while to line your baking tins.”

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry at the fact that he remembers the time you were ranting about cutting greaseproof paper and bottomless cake tins and butter versus margarine for stickiness.

“I have homemade bread in the pantry. Sourdough from the bakery.”

“That’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He’s pressing a kiss into your hair as he rises from his seat, wandering towards the kitchen to get things moving.

“This is a stupid idea,” you laugh, following him. “What kind of cake do you want?”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“I’m never going to get over this.”

“So you like it?”

“Honey. My God.”

He groans into his last forkful of cake, placing the utensil down onto his plate with a definitive clang. You’re both sat at the kitchen island, the two of you having just finished your second portion each.

“Good, because we’ve got a whole cake to finish before you go home.”

His head is resting on his hand as he looks at you with bright eyes, watching every micro expression that graces your face as if it’s a rerun of his favourite movie.

“Make sure to write that recipe in your new book. We’re making this a Christmas tradition.”

“I like that idea,” you smile as you lean over to press a kiss to his sugary lips. “I like that idea a lot.”

“Good.”

You stack the plates and are about to get up to stick them in the sink when Bucky grabs your wrist, keeping you sat down on the bar stool.

“Hey, pretty girl?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

His thumb rubs circles into the back of your hand, the touch so familiar that you almost don’t notice it at first.

“Why haven’t you decorated for Christmas?”

“Hmm?”

“I thought you’d at least have a tree, or some lights hanging. Maybe an ornament or two. But you don’t have anything.”

“Oh. Um… I don’t know. Just haven’t had the time, I guess.”

He’s looking at you like he doesn’t believe a word you’re saying. You’re not sure you believe a word you’re saying.

“It doesn’t feel like Christmas,” you whisper honestly. “Even when I was in culinary school, I’d go back home for Christmas. And now I’m here, and I have like three friends and no family with me, and it doesn’t feel like Christmas.”

A tear slips down your cheek as you sniffle, pulling the sleeves of your shirt down over your hands.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

He’s up and out of his chair immediately, wrapping his arms around you where you still sit. His familiar scent and his familiar warmth comfort you instantly, heart rate calming down ever so slightly as he holds you.

“I know it’s all new and different, but that’s the exciting thing about this, right? It’s not what you’re used to, but you have the chance to create new traditions and a whole load of new memories now.”

“You’re right,” you mumble into his chest. “I think I was so stuck on thinking about how different everything was, that I forgot that different can be a good thing.”

“Exactly. I’m here for a couple of days, and then we can go home and have the Christmas Day with your parents that you’re used to. Yeah?”

“Yeah. Buck?”

“Hmm?”

“You are the only person in the world I wanted to see when I opened that door earlier.”

“The feeling is mutual, sweetheart,” he hums as he presses a kiss into your hair. “Why do you think I drove all the way here?”

“Because you’re the best.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he chuckles, pulling you with him towards the couch. “Now come on, we need to watch a Christmas movie. You pick.”

“Love Actually,” you say without missing a beat. “It’s Love Actually or nothing.”

“Done,” he’s laughing, reaching for the remote.

“Thank you,” you whisper, lacing your fingers with his. “For everything.”

“Always. Merry Christmas, honey girl.”

“Merry Christmas, Bucky.”

[downbad4sylus]

“This mark is different”

(part 3 to “I killed you”)

synopsis: You and Sylus return to the base from the field of flowers where he shows you his horns.

content: NSFW; 18+ MDNI; smut with some plot; sylus x afab!reader; reader is MC; use of Y/N; soft!sylus; virgin!sylus (i am of the opinion that sylus wouldn’t so much as breathe near another woman who isn’t MC); virgin!reader; kissing; oral (fem receiving); p in v; soft sex; slightly rough sex; no protection (wrap it up kids); multiple orgasms; idk if this counts as monster fucking but sylus has horns and a tail; mostly proofread

word count: ~3.5k

tags: @travelerth; @midiplier; @satansdaughter123; @bookfreakk

a/n: massive thank you once again to everyone who’s read, liked, and reblogged parts 1 and 2, i genuinely can’t express how happy it makes me that so many of you have enjoyed these little stories :’) anywaayyy, in honor of the new banner and all the new spicy content (bless our game developer overlords) here is part 3 where things between you and Sylus get a little spiicccyyyy

Okay, so when Sylus asked if you wanted to go back to the base and see his horns, you might have taken him a little too literally.

What you thought was him innocently taking you to his bedroom—warning the twins on your way that he still didn’t want to be bothered—turned out to be far from that.

Which was how you found yourself currently pinned beneath him on his bed, tongues tangling and lungs screaming for air, no horns in sight. Or tail. Or wings.

You lightly pounded a fist against his chest. “Sylus…I need…to breathe…”

Sylus was loath to part from you, but did so regardless, taking the opportunity to marvel at the sight of you before him. Flushed cheeks, swollen lips, chest heaving. You were beautiful, perfect, and his.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked, making sure he had your consent before he continued.

You bit your lip, and he nearly lost control then and there. How many times did he have to tell you to stop doing that?

“How far are we going?” you asked softly.

“As far as you want, sweetie,” Sylus assured. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

“I, um, haven’t really done anything before,” you confessed, turning your face away so you didn’t have to look at him.

Sure, you had a few boyfriends throughout the years but you’d never had more than a heated makeout session, it was usually the reason why those relationships ended. You weren’t a prude or anything, you were just saving yourself for when someone really special came along. Or maybe you’d unknowingly been waiting for Sylus to come along.

Sylus pinched your chin and forced your eyes back to his. “Me neither.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. “Really?”

He nodded. “I’d never give myself to anyone but you.” He released your chin in favor of dragging a finger down your neck before wrapping his hand around it, careful not to choke you. “I do, however, have a very good memory.”

Your heart thundered in your chest. You wanted him. You needed him. And most importantly, you trusted him.

“Okay,” you breathed.

“Okay what, sweetie? I need you to tell me exactly what you want,” Sylus said, his thumb rubbing soothingly along the length of your neck.

“I want you, Sylus, all of you,” you said. “I want you to make me feel good.”

“Oh, Y/N, I’ll do so much better than that.”

He released your neck, trailing his large hand over your chest and down your stomach until his fingers teased the hem of your shirt.

“May I?” he asked.

You nodded. “But I get to take off yours next.”

Sylus chuckled. “Are you trying to make a deal with me right now?”

You nodded again, smiling. “For every one thing you strip off of me, I get to strip something off of you.”

His ruby-red eyes sparkled. “And those are your terms?”

“Those are my terms.”

“Then it’s a deal.”

You eagerly sat up and held your arms above your head. Sylus huffed, clearly amused by your enthusiasm, and gripped the bottom of your shirt in both his hands. In one smooth motion, he removed it, tossing it aside as his gaze roved hungrily over your now-bare skin.

When you reached for his shirt, intent on running your hands all over his delicious abs, you suddenly found yourself back against the mattress, wrists pinned to the pillows.

You blinked to find Sylus hovering above you sporting a positively wicked smile.

“Sylus! What are you doing?” you exclaimed, fighting to free your wrists.

He cocked his head. “You never said when you got to rid me of my clothes,” he drawled in that infuriatingly smug tone of his. “You need to be more specific when setting your terms, sweetie.”

Your mouth popped open. This was what you got for trying to make a deal with the King of Deals himself.

“Now, let’s get rid of this next,” he mused, trailing his fingertips along the underwire of your bra.

“How are you—“

Black-red mist enveloped your bra, tickling the skin underneath. It took only a moment for Sylus’s Evol to make quick work of it, the undergarment reduced to black and red specks of dust, leaving your upper half fully exposed.

Sylus’s pupils dilated as his hand gently cupped your breast, and you whimpered when his thumb brushed over your nipple.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “And all mine.”

He was barely touching you yet your core had already gone molten and was beginning to throb with need. You needed more of him, his hands, his lips, his tongue, his co—

A jolt of pleasure shot straight to your core, tearing a loud moan from your lips as Sylus closed his own over your neglected nipple. He continued, tongue laving and teeth biting until he switched to your other breast, giving it an equal amount of attention.

You were panting by the time he lifted his head with a quiet smack of his lips.

But Sylus was far from finished.

He kissed his way up to your neck, where he licked and sucked at your sensitive skin. You wanted to touch him, thread your fingers through his hair but he still had your wrists pinned firmly above your head with seemingly no intention of releasing them.

You cried out, your back arching as Sylus sunk his teeth into your neck.

“This mark is different,” he breathed, lapping his tongue over it to soothe the sting. “This time, I want to count how many times I can make you come before it fades.”

“Fuck Sy,” you groaned.

He trailed down again until he reached the waistband of your pants. He looked at you, one brow raised, silently asking for your consent. You nodded, straining against his hold on your wrists, desperate to bury your hands in his hair.

You nearly cried with relief when he finally removed his hand, only to have your wrists bound by his Evol instead.

“Sylus,” you whined.

He chuckled. “Be a good girl and let me have my fun first,” he said. “You’re the one who asked me to make you feel good.”

“Then stop teasing me already!”

“Mmm, very well.”

Sylus yanked off your pants, leaving you in just your underwear, which were soaked through by this point. He made quick work taking them off as well, groaning at the sight of you finally naked before him.

“So, so beautiful,” he murmured reverently as he reached out, brushing his thumb over your clit. Your hips bucked at the contact, and it was all the reaction Sylus needed before descending on you like a man starved.

Spreading your legs wide, Sylus licked your slick entrance, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. Your back bowed off the bed, crying out in pleasure as he focused his efforts on your throbbing clit. He slung an arm across your waist and pushed you back down, keeping you locked in place, unable to escape the pleasure he was so eager to give you.

His unoccupied hand ghosted along your inner thigh, growing closer and closer to where his mouth was, until he reached your entrance and slipped a finger inside.

You moaned. “Please Sy,” you begged him. “Please let me touch you.”

Without parting from your core, Sylus’s Evol dissipated from your wrists, freeing you at last. Your hands immediately went to his head, burying your fingers in his hair.

Release tingled down your spine, the tension poised to snap. When Sylus added a second finger he nearly undid you then and there.

You grip his hair harder, moving your hips as much as his iron grip would allow, riding his face.

“Sylus,” you panted. “Sylus I’m gonna—ah.”

“Go ahead, sweetie,” Sylus said gruffly. “Come for me.”

And you did, the tension exploding as you came all over his mouth and fingers. He continued to lick and suck, his fingers pumping in and out while you rode out your high, stopping only when your body went limp beneath him.

“That’s one,” Sylus said proudly, straightening as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You stared at the slick covering his fingers, transfixed by the way it shined in the light. Sylus noticed.

“Want a taste for yourself?” he asked.

Heat flooded your cheeks but when your eyes met his, you nodded.

“Open,” he commanded. You obeyed and Sylus slid his fingers inside your mouth. When you closed your lips around them he said, “Now suck.”

You couldn’t feel any embarrassment you were so turned on, tasting yourself as you licked and sucked Sylus’s fingers clean.

“Good girl,” Sylus purred as his withdrew his fingers. “Would you like to uphold your end of our deal now?”

You pounced on him, almost knocking you both off the bed. You tore at Sylus’s shirt, bunching it up over his torso before ripping it off his head. Without stopping to admire his physique, you rose on your knees, positioned on either side of his legs, and unbuckled his belt. The bulge in his pants made your mouth water and you wanted nothing more than to wrap your hands around his cock and wring as much pleasure out from him as he did you.

“Lift your hips,” you told Sylus.

He raised them, his chest heaving with anticipation as he watched you. You hurriedly popped the button and pulled the zipper down, then with all your might, grabbed the waistband of his pants and underwear and yanked.

Sylus’s hard cock slapped against his abdomen and you nearly abandoned undressing him at the sight of it. He was long and thick, precum leaking from his slit and onto his stomach. You wanted to touch it, taste it, feel it inside of you.

“Don’t stop now, kitten,” Sylus encouraged, his voice breathless. “You can’t leave my pants like this.”

You blinked, realizing you’d be staring at his cock, hands still gripped tight on his pants, which were only halfway down his thighs. You mumbled an apology and managed to finish stripping him, tossing his clothes aside onto the floor somewhere.

Sylus groaned as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. “Kitten,” he panted. You dragged your hand up his length, gathering the precum at the tip before running it back down. “Hah—ah, that feels so good.”

But Sylus grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

You pouted. “I want to make you feel good too.”

He smirked. “You can do that some other time, right now, I need to be inside you.”

Sylus sat up, putting you at eye level.

Your breath caught. He was so beautiful, with his sharp, chiseled features, but what really took your breath away was the look in his eyes. He looked at you like you held his entire world in your hands. Like you were the only light shining in a life otherwise shrouded in darkness. You loved this man, and it was so heart achingly clear he loved you too.

Sylus cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over your bottom lip. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

“I’ve never been so sure about anything before,” you answered him with a smile. “I love you, Sylus.”

He smiled too, a real smile, not anything like his smug ones. “I love you too, Y/N.”

He kissed you, lips pressing softly on yours. It was slow and unhurried, like you had all the time in the world to just enjoy each other. Even when your tongues met, you didn’t rush, Sylus gently pushing you down onto the mattress.

He drew back when his cock teased your entrance. “I’m going to go slow, okay? If it hurts or you need me to stop, just let me know.”

Your hands flew up to his face. “Sylus wait.”

He didn’t move a muscle.

“You said I could see your horns.”

Sylus faltered. “Sweetie, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

You shook your head. “No, I want to see them, Sy, and your wings and tail. I said I wanted all of you and I meant all of you.”

Sylus’s heart thundered in his chest, unsure whether to give in to your demands. He was sure if he protested further, he’d be able to convince you to drop it for now. In truth, though, he was nervous. Yes you had remembered your past together but you’d never seen him in his dragon form in this life. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you. He’d never recover if you saw him as the monster he truly was, you were the only one who loved him despite that very fact.

“Sylus.”

Hearing his own name tore him from his thoughts, his gaze fixing on your face.

“I love you now just as much as I did then, dragon and all,” you said firmly. “Please, I want you to be able to be yourself with me.”

Sylus hung his head and sighed, resigning to your demands. “Fine, but no wings, they’re too big for the bed.”

“Okay, I can live with that.”

Sylus huffed and brought his lips back to yours. As you kissed, black-red mist swirled at the top of Sylus’s head and at the base of his spine, revealing his scaled, black horns and tail.

He held his breath as he parted from you, bracing himself for your reaction. But when you opened your eyes, they were not filled with fear. They were filled with awe.

You lifted a hand and brushed the bottom of one of Sylus’s horns. He shivered at your touch, his tail swishing back and forth behind him.

“Are they sensitive?” you asked, ghosting your fingers up the length.

“Yes,” Sylus breathed.

You hummed thoughtfully as you angled your head, peering at his tail, then looking back at him. “You really are beautiful, Sy.”

He swallowed against the lump in his throat, moved far more than he could ever express with words that you found him beautiful, even like this.

“May I continue now?” he asked, deflecting with his usual arrogance.

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Please.”

Sylus almost lost his self control at the relief that flooded through him. His cock was throbbing so hard it was painful, and the only way he could soothe it was to be buried deep inside your cunt.

Tail thrashing wildly, Sylus repositioned the head of his cock at your entrance, somehow even more soaked now than before. Coating himself first, he then began pushing past your folds.

You inhaled sharply at the burn as your walls stretched to accommodate his size.

“Relax, my love,” Sylus soothed, one hand trailing down toward your core. He gently circled your clit, encouraging your body to relax.

You whimpered, clenching around the head of his cock, desperate for him to fill you more despite the pain.

Taking his time, Sylus rocked his hips slowly, easing into you inch by inch all while rubbing your clit to keep you loose. By the time he bottomed out, the pain you’d felt had been long replaced by the pure pleasure of being filled with his cock.

Sylus trembled with the restraint it took to not start pounding into you, wanting your first time to be more loving and tender. There was plenty of time to take you hard and rough.

“I’m going to move now, okay?” he warned, breathing heavily.

“Yes, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He groaned and rocked his hips until just his tip was left inside you, before sliding back in. You both moaned as Sylus began thrusting in earnest, his pace slow and steady.

“You feel so good, Y/N,” Sylus panted. “Just like I remember.”

You were unable to respond, too consumed by the way he moved inside you, his cock hitting you in all the right places.

As though it had a mind of its own, Sylus’s tail snaked around one of your legs, keeping it locked to his waist.

Tension building already, your nails dug into Sylus’s back as each thrust brought you closer and closer to the edge. Sylus could fell your walls fluttering around his cock, and while he wanted nothing more than to lose himself right along with you, he was determined to rip as many orgasms out of you as he could.

He picked up the pace slightly and you responded in kind, tightening your grip on him as you cried out.

“Sylus, oh fuck, don’t stop, please please please don’t stop.”

He chuckled. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He captured your lips in an impassioned kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth as you moaned. One hand cupped a breast, his fingers teasing your nipple before moving on the other.

His touch, his kiss, his cock, it was all too much.

Your back arched as you came, waves of pleasure washing over your body again and again with seemingly no end. Sylus kept moving through it, pausing when you finally slumped into the bed.

“That’s two, but we’re not finished yet, kitten,” Sylus growled.

You hardly registered his words before he was flipping you onto your stomach, a shocked oof breezing past your parted lips. He dragged your hips up so your ass was in the air, sliding his cock back into your cunt with ease. His tail slid along your ribs, then across your breasts, the hard scales rubbing on your sensitive nipples, and it pulled you flush to Sylus’s chest. On instinct, you reached back and grabbed onto both of his horns. The groan he let out was purely animalistic.

“You better hold on tight,” he whispered in your ear, the only warning you got before his cock started slamming into you.

You moaned at the delicious new angle, your body already working toward another orgasm. Admittedly, you’d been a bit nervous that Sylus was relying solely on memory from another lifetime in order to please you, and truly you would’ve been happy with whatever he’d be able to give you. But this? This was not at all what you expected.

“I won’t last much longer, kitten,” Sylus warned, his thrusts growing sloppy, “and I fully intend on bringing you with me.”

His hand slid down your abdomen, two fingers finding your clit and rubbing in quick, tight circles.

Your cunt clenched hard around his cock as you pulled on his horns, your mouth popping open in a silent cry. Sylus groaned, doubling his efforts both with his cock and his fingers.

“Sylus!” you yelled, body tensing. “Sylus, oh please.”

“Give me one more, Y/N,” he muttered. “Be a good girl and give me one more.”

Your climax slammed into you, your vision going white as the pleasure rocked your body harder than the last two. It drove Sylus straight off the cliff edge, chasing his high right alongside you, filling your cunt to the brim.

When you were both spent, Sylus collapsed on top of you, but you were too fucked out of your mind to care about his weight crushing you.

He didn’t linger on you too long though, rolling over onto his side, taking you with him as his tail was still wound around your breasts. He peppered kisses on your neck and shoulder, making you smile.

You twisted in his hold to face him, placing a chaste kiss of your own right on his lips. “I love you, Sy,” you murmured.

“I love you too, sweetie,” he replied quietly.

“Does this mean you’re my boyfriend now?” you asked, the picture of innocence.

Sylus scoffed. “I was under the impression I was much more than just your boyfriend.”

“You are, but I can’t introduce you to people as my soul-bound lover,” you protested. “We need a socially acceptable label, Sy.”

“You want to introduce me to all your little Hunter friends?”

“Yeah, as my small-business-owner-slash-fruit-stall-vendor boyfriend, Skye!”

He gave you an incredulous look, as if he couldn’t believe you were having this conversation right now. But, he’d never deny you anything. “Fine, I’ll be your boyfriend as long as you get to be my girlfriend.”

“You have to ask me first.”

He blinked. “What?”

“You have to ask me to be your girlfriend first.”

Sylus pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Y/N, my love, will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

You grinned and smacked your lips against his. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Little did you know that Sylus had much bigger plans in mind than you being just his girlfriend. Fiancé was good, but wife was even better. You know, for the sake of socially acceptable labels, of course.

[harmonyrae]

Let You Make Me Juno

Synopsis: There’s a song you just can’t get out of your head. You just wanted to dance and sing along every time it came on. Which is exactly what you do and the boys have a very intense reaction to some of the lyrics.

AN: I hadn’t heard Juno by Sabrina Carpenter in its entirety until literally yesterday and I’ve been on a writing kick so… This happened. Smile. ENJOY!

Content Warnings: Heavy on the innuendos, also heavy on the implied activities, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, breeding kink (if you squint), the boys are shook & horny, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 3.1k

Whatever report Zayne is working on must be a hefty one, he’s been consistently typing for nearly an hour. You circle behind him and top off his coffee. He doesn’t look up, but hums as you pour - a silent thank you. You head back into the kitchen and continue making breakfast. 

It was rare that Zayne didn’t have to head to work early and the Association had given all Hunters a long weekend to celebrate the previous month. Only two injuries and no major incidents. You had both slept in and you were making pancakes. Usually Zayne would lecture you about “making sure you got protein and complex carbs” to start your day, but you promised to make chocolate chip pancakes and he stopped arguing. His sweet tooth won over in the end. 

You continue mixing the batter, swaying your hips to your playlist. Your “feel good” playlist, it always made you want to dance. You hum along while you wait for the pan to heat up. That’s when you hear the beginning notes of the song you’re obsessed with. 

“Zayne! Can you turn the music up?”

You look over your shoulder to see him nod, never taking his eyes off the screen. The music swells through the bluetooth speakers and you start bouncing in excitement. You immediately start singing along.

Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing Oh yeah, you just get it 

Finally, Zayne peels his eyes away from his report. He didn’t get a chance to write up the surgery debrief after getting home last night. He intended to stay up to finish it, but when he got home you were dressed in the black nightgown that drove him crazy. He spent his night doing something equally as important, but now he was rushing to get it completed. But when you started singing, he immediately took notice.

You usually didn’t sing out loud, preferring to hum along. And the way you bounced back and forth, your hips swaying seductively, was very distracting. You wore your satin sleep shorts and his dress shirt buttoned halfway, just a hint of your delicious cleavage peeking over the collar. Zayne straightens his back and tries to refocus.

Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit God bless your dad's genetics, mm, uh

He blinks rapidly before taking his glasses off to rub his eyes. He turns to look at you fully. Watching you dance and stir the pancake batter. You turn to look over at him, not expecting to see him looking at you. You see the tips of his ears have turned red and you giggle, continuing your dance while maintaining eye contact with him. 

You make me wanna make you fall in love Oh, late at night, I'm thinkin' 'bout you, ah, ah-ah Wanna try on my fuzzy pink handcuffs?

Zayne’s eyes widen and you can’t help but let out a loud laugh. The blush spread across his cheeks and down his neck. You set down the bowl and approach him, singing and dancing along the way. 

I know you want my touch for life If you love me right, then who knows? I might let you make me Juno

He finally stands, placing his hands on your hips. He doesn’t stop you from dancing, just holds you and feels you sway. You spot a smile creeping onto his face. You reach up and hold onto his shoulders. He leans down and starts placing open mouth kisses to the exposed skin of your chest. You close your eyes and feel his warm breath on your ear as he whispers.

“Isn’t ‘Juno’ that movie we watched a few weeks ago?”

You hum in agreement and Zayne doesn’t hesitate to pick you up, moving your legs to wrap around him. He squeezes your ass before he trails a hand under the back of your shirt. You shiver at his touch and cling to him. He turns and walks into the kitchen to turn off the stove.

“Don’t you want pancakes?”

Zayne smiles and his eyes sparkle with something you rarely see when you’re with him. 

“Oh, I’m still having cake for breakfast.”

How did you get roped into this? Tara is so damn persuasive. Or maybe you’ve had a few too many drinks? The little umbrellas make them seem so harmless though…

Xavier had tried to intercept and make sure you didn’t feel forced. But after Tara whispered what song she had picked for karaoke you were completely on board. Plus, you didn’t wear your favorite dress and heels for nothing. 

The fitted baby blue dress hugged your curves, but the tiered ruffles on the skirt made you feel like a ballerina when you twirled. The square neckline flattering your defined collarbone, while hiding a hickey on your shoulder. You tapped your sparkly heels along with your favorite song. Tara and you harmonized seamlessly.

Let you lock me down tonight One of me is cute, but two, though? Give it to me, baby You make me wanna make you fall in love

Xavier had been checked out for most of the night, he was just happy to spend time with you. And the other hunters he worked with - since this was a Hunter’s Appreciation party. But getting to watch you dress up and hold you close while dancing in the dimly lit club, yeah, that made the socializing worth it. 

His brain had finally registered the lyrics and he almost choked on his drink. He coughed quietly and looked up at you. Your cheeks flushed from the alcohol, your tits bouncing while you dance with Tara. He tries to keep his eyes locked on yours, but his eyes can’t help but wander. Two? Imagining a miniature version of you made Xavier’s heart pound against his ribcage.

I showed my friends, then we high-fived  Sorry if you feel objectified 

Xavier’s eyes widened and he nearly dropped his drink. He sets it down on the bar with a shaky hand. He tilts his head at you, as if asking what exactly did you show. He shook his head, surely not. It was just a song. But then again, you could “show” and he knew that. 

Xavier never asked you to send him nudes, but you were so easily turned on by him you spent weeks trying to figure out a way to level the playing field. Sure enough, sending him a picture from the shower did the trick. Of course, he matched your energy and offered to send his own. Which you didn’t reject. He definitely didn’t hold back after that. You’d send pictures and videos back and forth regularly. You could absolutely show Tara and you had zero doubts she would, indeed, high-five you.

Can't help myself, hormones are high Give me more than just some butterflies

You surprised yourself with how well you hit each note, your confidence growing. Your slightly hooded eyes stay locked on Xavier the whole song. You could feel the tension in the room grow. The hunger in Xavier’s eyes was evident. You watched as he slowly made his way to the side of the stage where you eventually climbed down.

Jeremiah was standing next to him, his cheeks flushed. Tara begged Xavier to invite him and after the performance - both you and Xavier finally figured out why. She launched herself into his arms, giggling. His whispered praises were almost lost in the club's noise. Xavier grabbed your waist and pulled you to him immediately. He leaned over to Jeremiah and whispered something before pulling you towards the exit. 

“Xavier! What about –”

“They’ll get a cab, we’re leaving.”

His tone was firm and his expression calm. You were almost concerned he was angry with you. Once outside, you expected to stop at the edge of the sidewalk to hail a cab, but Xavier took a sharp turn, heading into an alley behind the club.

“What are we –”

You couldn’t even finish speaking before Xavier’s lips captured yours. His hand reaches down to pull up your dress, his fingers swiftly pulling your panties aside to press against your clit. He presses you against the wall and his kiss turns frantic. You barely have a moment to moan, you breathe heavily, your hands wrapping around him and taking fistfuls of his sweater. 

Right as your legs start to shake, he pulls back and presses his forehead against yours.

“I need to get you home for this conversation.”

You scrunch your nose and look at him, confused. He nips at your bottom lip pulling another breathy moan from you.

“You are definitely cute, but two? That’d be exquisite.”

“No no no, higher!”

You pointed at the couch, urging Rafayel to get in the right spot to start recording. He huffed and crossed his arms.

“What about my artistic vision? Just because it’s a TikTok doesn’t mean it should look like shit. Let me work my magic!”

You put your hands on your hips and let him adjust the brightness of the overhead lights and try out different angles. You smile, knowing exactly what you’re up to. He’ll feel silly in about 15 minutes. 

You run a hand over your shorts and matching cropped hoodie, smoothing out the wrinkles from practicing. The pink color almost matches the blush on your cheeks - which was not just from practicing. You might be a bit nervous. 

You tighten your ponytail and press your lips, nibbling the corner of your mouth as you tap your foot impatiently. Rafayel finally looks up at you and rolls his eyes. 

“Sorry cutie, I know your best angles and it’ll be worth the wait.” 

He finally climbs up on the couch and looks at you through your phone. His brows knit together. He’s just now realizing you were right about where he needed to stand. You giggle while he puffs out a breath, his dusty purple fringe fluttering upwards. 

“Okay, are you ready?”

You nod enthusiastically before hopping over to your starting spot. 

“So you know what to do, right?”

“Why are you asking me that? Of course I know! I’m not a boomer.” 

You roll your eyes and grab your hairbrush, the best option you had for a makeshift microphone. You could have asked Rafayel to get you a real one but you didn’t want to ask him to put too much effort into this little video. A video you didn’t really plan on posting. 

Rafayel holds up three fingers and counts down before pointing at you. You smile and sway your hips, lip syncing to your latest obsession.

You make me wanna make you fall in love Oh, late at night, I'm thinkin' 'bout you, ah, ah-ah Wanna try out some freaky positions?

You swiftly lie down on your stomach and bend your knees, pulling your ankles up as close to your head as possible. You reach back and lock your fingers behind your ankles. You look at the camera and smile with a flush.

Have you ever tried this one?

Rafayel almost drops your phone. He ends the recording and stares at you. His ears turned bright red and his eyes darken, turning an even deeper shade of purple. 

“I didn’t realize you were doing this trend…”

You roll over and cross your legs in front of you, resting your hands on your knees. You raise a brow and glare at him. 

“How many videos of this trend have you watched, Rafayel?”

His eyes widen and he coughs, straightening his back before hopping off the couch in one swift motion. He crosses his arms and looks down at you, his mouth settled into that adorably irritating pout. 

“I just know of the trend, not -- I don’t watch them like –”

You interrupt him, your voice a tad more raspy than you intended.

“Do you think the position isn’t worth it?”

The blush travels across his cheeks and he twists his nose, trying his best to look upset.

“That’s not what I said.” 

“Cause I have a few I could try. You know… for the video.”

Rafayel’s eyes narrow and his eyes drop to your exposed midriff and bare legs. He clears his throat and drops his hands to his hips before turning to walk away. You exhale sharply - he’s being dense. Time to be more direct. 

“Like this one?”

He turns his head and watches you shift to face him. You lie back and kick your legs up. Your shoulders remain planted on the floor while your midsection is straight up, your hands planted on your back, your elbows braced against the floor to hold you up. Your legs tip over and your toes touch the floor. You keep your legs straight and spread them as wide as you are comfortable. Your shorts sink into your ass, the curve and shape now on full display. 

You hear a sharp intake of breath and a shuffling of feet. You try to lower to the ground once more, but feel his hands on the backs of your thighs. When you look up you see Rafayel lean over to look down at you.

“Did you really do this trend for the trend, or did you have other intentions?”

You smile up at him, your smug expression clear as day. He runs his hands over your ass and places his hands at either side of your nearly exposed pussy. You gasp quietly. 

“Yeah, you’re not uploading that video, but we are definitely trying these positions.”

He runs his thumbs across your center. You know he can feel how wet you are, doing those positions in front of him - positions you’ve desperately wanted to try with him - really got you going. He grinds against you, his cock digging into your ass, pulling a moan from you.

“Right fucking now.”

You didn’t even hear the front door to your apartment open, your music was turned up way too loud. And you were enjoying the mini concert you were putting on in the bathroom. 

You held the curling iron loosely and rocked your hips side to side. You could never stop yourself from dancing and singing along to this song. You were so excited when Tara told you she got tickets for Sabrina’s concert next month. You were listening to all of her albums on repeat to prepare. 

But tonight, you were going out with Sylus for a very special occasion - your one year anniversary. Well, it’s been over a year since you met him, but you both agreed not to celebrate when you actually met because it wasn’t exactly the best memory. 

Sylus gave you his black card to get pampered all day while he worked and you made the most of it. Getting your nails done, a facial, shopping and basically a full body wax. You spent extra time on your makeup since you had a few new products to try out. Your new red lipstick compliments your skin tone perfectly, its staying power would be tested later. 

The dress you picked was relatively simple, but god, did you feel sexy. The black bodice was fitted, hitting mid-thigh. The chest was very structured and pushed your girls up, giving the illusion of more cleavage than you actually had. Your favorite part though, were the sleeves. Black lace from shoulder to fingertip, the bell sleeves almost completely covering your hands. You paired the dress with new red pumps, which were still in the box on your bed.

Your hair was actually curling nicely and wasn’t falling flat immediately, so you felt on top of the world. You danced and sang at the top of your lungs. 

You had no idea, Sylus had already let himself into your apartment. A bouquet of red roses in his hand and a mechanical crow with glowing yellow eyes sitting on his shoulder. Sylus couldn’t wait to introduce you to Lilith. He had built her himself specifically for you. He knew it would only mean you’d send her to spy on him like he had Mephisto spy on you, but he could tell how much you started to love seeing his little metal companion. 

He heard the music immediately when he walked in. He closed the door quietly and dropped his suit jacket on the arm of the couch. He pointed to his jacket and Lilith flew over, settling on the fabric. He put the flowers on the coffee table and silently made his way to the door of your bathroom. A smile breaking out across his face as he realized you were singing. 

Adore me, hold me, and explore me Mark your territory Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one

His heart skipped a beat. Not only was your voice hypnotizing, but the lyrics… He had heard this song before, but couldn’t remember where. Probably on one of your drives with him, he tended to give you control of the music while he drove. It meant you were more likely to sing. He leaned against the doorframe just out of view. He could see you in the mirror, swaying your hips while you wrapped a strand of hair around the curling iron.

Adore me, hold me, and explore me I'm so fuckin' horny Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one

And that’s when Sylus’s willpower broke. He pushed the bathroom door open, still leaning against the door frame. He racked his eyes down your body, taking in your new dress.

“Sylus! Oh my god, you fucking scared me! When did you get here?”

Sylus lifted his gaze to meet yours. He smirked before reaching up to grab the door frame above him. He looked so much taller like this, staring at you with those eyes. 

“I was just enjoying the show, kitten.”

You put down the curling iron and turned it off. You fluffed your hair, letting the curls fall into loose waves. You tried not to stare at Sylus in the mirror. The top buttons of his shirt were undone and you could see his chest rising and falling faster and faster.

“I like the song. I am curious though… When you sing along, do you think of anyone?”

Your cheeks flush and you stare at him. You bite your lip as you smile. He lets go of the doorframe and pushes off to walk towards you. His hands wrap around your waist and he pulls you close. Your back flush against his chest, you could feel his erection press against your ass. 

“You know the answer to that question, Sy…” 

He smiled and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“Well, I’d say I’ve completed adoring and holding you, that just leaves exploring.”

“Sylus! We –”

He spins you around and grabs your waist. He leans down to kiss your neck, before dipping down to bite at the fullness of your chest. You arch your back and let your head fall back as you groan. Your hands reach out to hold onto his waist, while his wrap around to grab your ass.

“But you’re so fuckin' horny, sweetie. And I live to serve my one and only.”

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22

[reidsrambles]

Part 2: New Year's Day

This is part 2 of a duo, so please go read part 1, New Year's Eve, if you haven't yet!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Description: My only New Year's Eve plan is to help my best friend Penelope entertain her many party guests. When I find myself alone with her coworker, Spencer (who I've had a crush on for ages), it seems that my New Year's might turn out different than I had planned.

(Content/Warnings below the cut)

Content/Warnings: [18+ MDNI] smut, protected (condom) PiV sex, oral sex (F receiving), brief mention of being drunk or high in the past

A/N: Again, down the wire! I've been writing literally all day. It's 10 PM and I haven't yet made dinner... I wrote and edited this one basically just today?? So if there are any mistakes or I missed any warnings, pls lmk tysm. Again, credit to @saradika-graphics for the divider graphics, including the one I cropped below.

Names used: Baby

Words (this chapter): 3,734

Words (total): 5,759

The kiss is desperate, but not rough. He’s kissing me back, right? I pull my face away. He leans his forehead against mine, both of us panting into the mere inches between our lips. 

He doesn’t loosen his hold on my body. “Is everything okay? We can stop if you want.” 

“I don’t want to stop.” I grip the fabric of his shirt where my hands lie on his back. “Do you want to stop?”

His hand snakes down to my ass, splaying wide across it. He pulls my body into his, letting me feel his hardening cock.

“I really don’t want to stop,” he breathes into my neck, just below my ear, “but I have to confess something before we go any further.”

What the hell? Does he have an STI that I need to know about? Trouble keeping it up? I mean, that doesn’t seem to be a problem, but you never know. Is he already with someone? Penelope didn’t say he had a partner, but maybe he’s kept them a secret?

We both still, Spencer breathing against my neck. I’d consider it ticklish if not for the jolt it sends straight to my core.

“I’ve been attracted to you for a long time, but I was too scared to say anything.” The words come out of Spencer’s mouth. Not mine. Holy shit.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I laugh, dropping my head to Spencer’s chest in utter bewilderment. “I’ve had a crush on you since the first time we met. Penelope hasn’t stopped teasing me about it since.”

“Glad I’m not alone in that,” he laughs.

“Happy New Year, by the way,” I say, lifting my head to look at him again. Eyes, lips. Eyes, lips. 

“Happy New Year,” he breathes, hovering against my lips. Oppositely charged magnets falling in order with the laws of physics. Complying with the will of the universe.

I’ve never been kissed like this. Maybe it’s the thrill of unrequited lust finally requited, or maybe Spencer is just a really good kisser. His hands cradle my head on both sides. It’s like he could kiss you for hours and never be sick of it. Every soft, lush kiss plays against the intermittent roughness. The desperate ones, where lips are bit and tongues are engaged in the fervor. It feels wholly consuming and incomplete at the same time. 

“We don’t have to do anything else,” I say, “but to be clear, I’m definitely down if you want to.”

He shakes his head and steps back, putting distance between us. He clenches and unclenches his hands and then rubs his palms against his dress pants. 

My eyes catch on the bulge in his pants, and shamelessly, I can’t stop staring at it. I’ve imagined it before, in my most desperate, lonely moments. Right after breakups, when I’d rather escape into my imagination to soothe me. After running into him at one of Penelope’s get-togethers. I’d steal every shy glance at him, trying to memorize his features. Then I’d go home and imagine myself kissing every inch of him.

I know I probably just need a good eight to…twelve hours of sleep to clear the fog in my brain that’s making this feel like another one of my erotic daydreams. But maybe being a bit out of it is what led me to kiss him like that. If I had been at my most rational, I probably wouldn’t have.

Spencer wipes at his face. He can’t stop moving his hands. Biting a nail between his teeth. Gripping the material of his pants. Crossing and uncrossing his arms. 

“[Y/N], you have no idea how badly I want to.” My heart sinks into my stomach. There’s always a but. “But I don’t want it to happen like this.”

I nod slowly, genuinely trying to avoid letting my disappointment come across as pouting. “Okay. That’s fair.”

He looks utterly exasperated, trying to keep his hands off me, and I’ve never felt so horny and so dejected at the same time. If he didn’t clearly state that he’s into me, I can’t lie and say that I wouldn’t feel extremely rejected right now.

“I’ve thought about it before,” he says. “What it would be like… to be with you. I just don’t want the first time to be at a party, in Penelope’s guest room”

I sit back down on the bed, willing my body to cool down, but it’s a non-starter. “I’ve thought about it before. What it would be like… to be with you,” playing back in my head on an unending loop. Clenched thighs give my clit the slightest bit of attention and ease the ache every so slightly.

“I’ve thought about it too,” I say, reminiscing about the numerous dirty fantasies I’ve crafted in my head over the years. I owe far too many orgasms to my vibrator, and to imaginary Spencer praising me, begging me to cum.

He rakes his fingers through his hair. “God, this is so hard.” 

Hard, indeed. I selfishly ogle the tent in his pants again, taking advantage of the fact that he’s struggling to look in my direction. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask. “Do you want to leave?”

He joins me on the edge of the mattress. Again, a respectable distance between us. 

He sighs. “If I don’t leave now, I don’t think I’ll have enough self-control to stop myself.”

Yet, he’s sitting beside me, wringing his hands in his lap. 

Before I can formulate any response, he starts. “What about when the party ends?”

“I locked the door on the way in. I didn’t want anyone barging in here trying to find the bathroom. And,” I gesture to the door, the party even louder now that the champagne is flowing, “this party doesn’t die down until three, maybe four.”

“I don’t have a condom, either,” he says quietly.

I push myself up off the bed and walk over to the bedside table. I’ve stayed in this room many times. Usually, when I get drunk or high and can’t drive home. Penelope snores. As much as I love her to bits, if she didn’t have a guest bedroom, I’d be sleeping on the couch. 

I rifle through the top drawer. A couple of individually packaged toothbrushes. A couple of mini bottles of mouthwash. Charging cables. Nope, nope, nope. 

I squat down to look through the bottom drawer, consciously arching my back and popping my ass out a bit. I know they’re in here somewhere. In the back of the drawer, tucked away, is a small, colorful zipper pouch. I’ve stumbled across this pouch before, but I can safely say that I’ve never used it. I hope nobody else has, either, honestly. Tucked inside is a roll of male condoms and a few individually packaged female condoms. 

I (mentally, emotionally, spiritually) cross my fingers as I check the date printed across the wrapper. They aren’t expired. Thank fucking god. 

I rip one off at the perforated line and place it in Spencer’s hand. 

He fiddles with the foil wrapper in his fingers. Not opening it. Just turning it in his hands.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks. “Here? Like this?”

“Before tonight, I honestly thought there was zero chance you liked me. I’ve wanted this for so long, and I’m so incredibly horny right now that it’s actually hard to think straight.” I wrap my hand around his, and he stops fidgeting. “Is there anything else?”

My question is sincere and gentle. Is there anything else that you need to reassure you that I want this? Is there anything else you need?

“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time, but I was tested after,” he says.

“I was tested after my last partner.”

I start undoing my blouse. Button by button. Lower and lower. Spencer mirrors me, undoing his crisp, blue dress shirt. Button by button. Lower and lower.

“And we can stop at any point, so please let me know if there’s anything you want or don’t want,” he says.

“Same goes for you.”

I slide my blouse off and unzip my skirt at the side. With my tights already off, I’m left in just my bra and underwear, my clothes in a pile beside the bed. Spencer takes his shirt off and his pants follow. He tries his best to quickly fold them, and in two large strides, he places them on top of the dresser. 

He turns to face me. In just his underwear, I have quite the view. I don’t even think he’s fully hard, but my mouth is watering at the outline of him. The butterflies are gone, replaced by a pang of hunger. I want to lick and taste every inch of him. The mental renderings I’ve crafted of Spencer in the past are all wiped from my memory. I have no use for them anymore. I have the real thing, actively being encoded into memory. 

He comes to stand between my legs. Still seated, his veiled cock is right in front of my face. 

“[Y/N], there’s just one more question that I have to ask first.”

I can only imagine what he sees looking down at me. As I look up at him through my lashes, my wet lips and flushed, glowing cheeks sit right next to his hard cock.

Does he know that I’ve been rocking my hips and squeezing my thighs together just to pacify my throbbing clit? 

“Can we go on a real date too sometime?” he says. “I don’t want this to be a one-time thing, and I also don’t want this to ruin my chances with you.” 

I feel stupid for not thinking that far ahead. If he had just wanted this to be a one-night stand, I would have accepted that, even though I know I want more with him. 

I nod and kiss the front of his hip, earning a stuttered breath from him when my cheek grazes his bulge. 

“I’d love that, Spencer.” 

I drag my face across his covered cock. Everything about this—about him—is intoxicating. I breathe him in, my hands on his hips, and the scent feels like a drug I could get high off of. 

“Can you lie down?” he says. 

I have no objections. 

I rip my bra and underwear off as fast as I can manage, pulling my bra over my head instead of undoing the clasps. I toss them to the floor to join the rest of my clothes. I’m, maybe a bit shamelessly, too eager to waste any time. 

Spencer is standing next to the bed, naked, jaw slack, just stroking himself to nothing but my naked body. That’ll do great things for the ego. 

“You are…” he breathes, shaking his head. The words he’s missing hang somewhere in the air, but he doesn’t look away from me long enough to search for them.

He opens the foil wrapper, rolls the condom on, and crawls onto the bed between my legs. I expect him to just shove it in there, but instead, he drags two long fingers through my wetness, absolutely mesmerized.

“Perfect,” he says, staring at my pussy. “So perfect.” 

He slides one finger inside me and I gasp. It doesn’t fill me, but when he takes it out a moment later, I still mourn the emptiness. He takes the same finger into his mouth, eyes closed as he admires the taste of me. 

I’m pretty sure that I can’t get any hornier than I am at this moment. It’s physiologically impossible. 

“Please, Spencer. Fuck,” I whine. “I need you inside me.”

Quick pecks trace a line up my body, and Spencer kisses me, bodies pressed together like he’s never going to kiss me again. It’s deep, sloppy, and passionate. Moaning into each other’s mouths as I grip his hips. His cock is nestled in my center. I grind against it.

Breathless, Spencer lifts his body just enough to reach between us, guiding his cock to where we need it. 

I close my eyes as he enters me; I have to turn off one of my senses to process it. In the black void behind my eyelids, I can feel everything. I can hear everything. A choked moan at the back of my throat breaks free. He pushes in further. Spencer shifts from his hands to his elbows, using the leverage to slide in even more. 

“Oh, god. This is so much better than I imagined,” he says, his voice strained from pleasure.

Was Spencer thinking about me at the same time I was thinking about him? Like two lovers wondering if the other is gazing up at the moon at the same time. I open my eyes. The tufts of hair framing his face flop down, a few stray strands sticking to his face. The room is already warming and his skin glistens in it. 

“What did you think about? What did you imagine?” I ask.

He fills me to the hilt, and his lips find mine; the kiss a fierce declaration that this shared sensation in our bodies is indeed shared. Spencer is feeling the same utter bliss that I am, and the thought of that alone sends a spark to my core. I’m making him feel this good. 

Spencer remains unmoving, huffing breaths intermixed with muttered curses as he adjusts. The part where we’re united throbs like a beating heart, both of our bodies diverting blood from our brains to fuel this tryst. 

“I felt so ashamed thinking about you like that,” he whispers against my cheek, “not knowing if you wanted me, too.”

Pinned beneath him, I push my hips up against him as much as I can manage, desperate for more. Spencer’s eyes flutter closed as he matches my movements, his cock sliding in and out as we grind into each other.

“Did you think about what I’d feel like the first time? Because I thought about what you’d feel like inside me.”

Earning moans from Spencer feels like a gift. A secret that has been bestowed upon me. For my ears only. I want to wrap this secret up and hide it under my bed. To throw it in a box and padlock it shut. I want to place it in a fancy locket, one I hide under my shirt, tucked up safe against my skin where nobody else can reach it.

“I thought about that far too much.” He shakes his head. “But you’re even better than I could’ve imagined.”

He pumps into me a few more times, hard and fast, as our bodies take the wheel, chasing the zenith of pleasure. We move together as a duet. The song? A lullaby of moans, whimpers, and whispered praises.

With each thrust, his body presses against my clit.

“Oh my god. You feel so fucking good, Spencer.”

He reaches a hand up to the side of my face, cradling my head and stroking my cheek with his thumb. I can feel the heat radiating from my cheeks. His thumb is icy in comparison. 

“You are so fucking beautiful.” He glances at my chest, and then his eyes dart as he takes in the rest of my body. “Your body is perfect.” He peppers kisses across my lips, my shoulder, my neck. Every place his lips touch stings like I’ve been branded. “Perfect,” he breathes against my neck. 

“How did I taste?” I ask, remembering Spencer licking his finger clean.

“Addictive” is the word he chooses, and thoughts of Spencer’s head between my legs—in my own bed—consume me.

He slows, almost to a stop. “Would you mind if I…?”

I finish his trailed-off sentence, not entirely sure if I’m right on the money or not. “Go down on me?” 

He nods, and a breathy, “please,” is all I can manage to squeak out. It would be damn near impossible to think of a single reason to deny this man in his request.

Between my legs—framed like a work of art—Spencer keeps his eyes locked on my face as he trails his tongue up between my lips. 

“Oh, fuck. Oh my god. Please. Please keep going.”

He moans into my pussy, wasting no time in getting into it. 

“Can I grab your head as I get close?”

He whines, “please,” against my skin, and I tell him to pinch me if he needs me to loosen my grip. 

Spencer’s long arms wrap around my thighs, keeping me from squirming away. I’ve never had anyone go down on me like this. He is feral, barely coming up for air. I reach down to slide my fingers into his hair, feeling myself inch closer and closer by the second. He’s humping the bed, large dimples forming in his plush ass. I just want to dig my nails into it.

One arm lifts from its spot around my leg. Spencer is a man on a mission. He needs that arm, that hand, those fingers. Two fingers slide inside me, and I know I’m not going to last. I squirm against him and he lets me control the penetration, keeping his hand still. His mouth, however, continues in its relentless pursuit. 

I feel like I’ve unlocked something here. This version of Spencer is unleashed. He’s had his taste of the forbidden fruit, and he’s fully invested. 

I grip his head, needing to pull him into me. Needing to control the pressure.

“Spencer, fuck.”

“Yes, baby. Please cum in my mouth.”

“I—” is all I spit out before it hits me. A tidal wave of heat and pressure that radiates from my core. I grip Spencer’s hair between my fingers and he moans even harder. I squeeze my eyes shut so hard that, when I open them, my vision is a pinhole vignetted by fuzzy white light. His tongue continues lapping at my center until my thighs trap his head, my clit unable to take anymore. 

My whole body is tingling. Every nerve in my body is on high alert. My ab muscles twitch with each jerky breath as the lingering shockwaves work through me. 

Spencer is kissing my thighs as if each space his lips touch is better than the last. He is relishing in my body. Worshipping it. 

In this state, having cum so hard that my ears are ringing, I probably wouldn’t hesitate to declare my ardent love for him. Thankfully, I have some logic system deep in my brain that remains online and protects me from stupid mistakes like that. 

“Spencer, please. Get back inside me.”

The moan that spills from us both as he slides back inside me, my pussy still throbbing with aftershocks, should be tattooed somewhere on my body. The waveform of it or whatever. My new New Year’s resolution: get a tattoo. Add that to my other New Year’s resolution: let Spencer Reid fucking rail me in every way possible.

His thrusts are already sloppier than before. “Yes, fuck. Yes. Do you know how fucking good you taste, baby? I could eat you out for hours. So perfect.” 

I grab his jaw and kiss him, tasting myself. Tasting me and him mixed together. 

“Spencer, I’ve wanted this for so long. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

I feel tears brimming in my eyes. Exhaustion, overwhelm, pleasure, and lust well up right at the finish line. Every sporadic back-arching thrust flutters my eyelids, pushing a small tear down both sides of my face.

“The first day I met you,” he says, struggling to get the words out fluidly, “you were the most beautiful thing. The most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

My hands slide to his ass, and I grip the flesh. I want my nails to leave a mark. I want to claim him as my own. 

“Cum inside me, Spencer.” 

He pounds into me, hard. The passion he showed while giving me oral is back in full force. 

His head falls into the crook of my neck as he works himself to the edge, muffling the dirty string of words that escape as he falls apart. His cock twitches hard inside me as he spills into the condom. I wish he was condomless, shooting his ropes of cum deep within me. But maybe that’s just a dirty fantasy that will never come to fruition. 

Spencer peppers me with some more kisses before getting up to discard the condom in the small trash can beside the door.

“I’ll change that garbage bag before I leave,” he says.

“I’m going to have to tell her,” I say, pulling my underwear up. “I’ll have to do some laundry for sure.” I gesture to the disheveled, dirty sheets. 

“Yeah, I know. She’s nosy, so I bet she’d figure it out regardless,” he laughs. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need. With the cleanup.”

The party noise is more subdued, but it sounds like the majority of guests are still here. The small digital alarm clock beside the bed reads 1:15 AM. 

“Wanna just wait it out?” I ask, straightening out the sheets just enough to crawl under them. “I promised Penelope I’d help her clean up, anyway.”

Spencer slips in beside me and I snuggle into his side, draping my leg over his and wrapping an arm across his chest. 

“I much prefer it in here,” he says, pressing his lips to my temple. 

I kiss him one last time, long and tender, before resting my head on his shoulder. I don’t even get a word out of my mouth before I crash once more.

A sharp knock on the door jolts me and Spencer from our very deep slumber. Morning light filters through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. I rub my eyes, swiping away the remnants of such a sleep. On the plus side, I feel fucking fantastic. Spencer sits up and stretches his arms above his head.

Another knock. Much harder.

“[Y/N]?” Penelope asks through the door.

We hop out of bed to hurriedly finish redressing ourselves.

“Shit, I fell asleep last night! I’m sorry, Pen!” I yell to her.

“Is…Spencer still in there with you?”

“Yes,” I say, annoyed. “Happy now?”

“I cleared off some space on the counter and started making breakfast whenever you two are dressed!”

Previous Chapter: New Year's Eve

AO3 | Tumblr | Masterlist

[kaliina-catoe-blog]

Dp x DC ideas #1 (please feel free to use, but if you could link it below or tag me or something so I can read any fics based on my ideas I'd be super grateful!)

Ok. Idea #1

Danny's transformation is bright. Like. Really really bright. It might temporarily blind people if they're looking directly at it! Danny and his friends have all become adjusted to not looking, and warning people to close their eyes. But what if the flashing light is also useful for making people not recognize that it's Danny that transformed?

Imagine Danny in Gotham, running into Red Hood somewhere in his civvies. His first thought, obviously, is to panic-- because obviously running into any member of the "Batfamily" can't lead to anything good. But then he can feel the cold puff of air that's suddenly leaving his lips and he realizes with terror that this man is NOT human. In fact. This man is easily twice Danny's size and armed to the teeth *and* he's not human. Danny, being himself, decides in that moment he needs to leave NOW. He starts to move, but. He can't bring himself to go ghost yet- there's something nagging at him that he needs to talk to Mr. "Built like the broad side of a barn" about whatever weird ectoplasm was infecting him. He could swear he could almost smell the rotten ecto on the big guy's clothes.

Jason, meanwhile, is busy staring at the tiny ass teenager that's literally shaking in front of him. Why was this kid even here? For starters, no child this size needs to be out this late in any part of Gotham. And more importantly, why is he in Crime Alley? Suddenly, Jason's not standing in front of some random teenager, he's looking at himself. Black hair, blue eyes, dirty clothes in the middle of The Narrows? Shit. Batman was about to have a field day... Wait. Was. Was this how his Da- how Batman felt? Oh shit. The kid was talking and Jason was standing here completely zoned out thinking about the Batmobile's fucking tires.

"Hey, are you listening to me?" Danny asks again, getting irritated fairly quickly. "I'm trying to tell you something important about your core!"

Red Dude shakes his head a bit, seemingly just focusing again. "Sorry.. Hold on. My what?"

Jason has never felt more confused in his entire life. He was also pretty sure he could mentally see the damn adoption papers filing themselves in his head. Maybe D- Bruce had rubbed off more than he thought?

"Okay. One more time." Danny sighs, "Your core looks like someone literally tried to shatter it and then glued it back into your chest. And you reek like rotten ecto- you need pure ecto to heal that much damage. I don't know what you've been trying to use, but it's contaminated by something and I think it's making you sicker?" He tries to explain, but the weird man just keeps staring and tilts his head.

"My what? Is full of what?" Helmet Bro has some kind of voice changer in his helmet, but Danny can tell he's being serious.

"You... You don't know do you?" His eyes suddenly widen like saucers, and he gapes up at the older man in horror.

"Know what, kid?" Jason steps towards the teen, not fast or anything. Just a shift forward, really, but the kid flinches back like he's been hit and Jason is suddenly 13 and fending off muggers again right here in this alleyway. He puts his hands up, palms out to show he's not trying to do anything, and slowly moves to lift his helmet off.

Danny is cornered, he realizes it the second the Big Scary Helmet Man™ moves forward and Danny is pressing his back into a fence. He didn't want to leave the man with rotting ectoplasm in his core, but what was the risk he was about to be kidnapped? But then Big Guy is freezing, and clearly not holding any of the weapons he's armed with.. And taking off the helmet?

"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to lay a hand on you, okay, kiddo? I just need you to explain what you're talking about, and why you're... Here," he gestures with his free hand to the alley.

He has jet black hair, and there's a section near his bangs that's shockingly white. Danny almost thinks the man looks... A little bit familiar? Too familiar. He's not lying though, so Danny tries to relax a bit and raises his hands placatingly. Clearly, the man has no idea that he's a halfa, and he probably doesn't even know he died. Oh man.

"Uh. Well. I don't really know how to explain this to you- and I can't tell you why I know. But... Do. Do you know that you're.. Dead?" Danny asks awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Jason has to fight off the green that's suddenly starting to creep into his vision. How the hell did this kid- wait. He asked if Jason knew? "what?"

Danny felt horrible, he could feel whatever was contaminating the older man's core- like it was alive, almost. "So. I know that saying to stay calm probably isn't going to help you here. But I need you to try to not freak out, okay?"

The lenses of Hood's mask were blown wide, and he very carefully nodded. His teeth creaked with how hard he was trying to remain in control of the Pit Rage.

"Okay," Danny continued carefully, noting that whatever contamination was at play it was definitely making the man unstable... Was it time to go ghost? No. Not yet. "Uh. My name is Danny- Danny Fenton. And. You are... Dead. Err. Half dead?"

Jason is shaking now, just slightly, and he hopes the boy doesn't notice it. He's not trying to scare the poor thing, but the green is starting to come back in waves. He feels like he just got dragged out of The Pits all over again.

"How do you know about that?" Jason asks, and the kid flinches hard again. Jason takes a deep breath and holds it, "I'm not going to hurt you. But you need to tell me- right now- how you know about my death."

Danny is shaking, trembling in fear as he realizes he just fucked up. Badly. "Uh. I can't tell you that, " he tries, pressing flat against the chain link behind him.

Jason steps forward before he can think better of it, another question on his tongue-

*FLASH*

Jason staggers back, hands coming up to cover his eyes, "Oh fuck!"

"Sorry! But I am not about to double-die tonight!" Danny yells back as he phases through the fence. He waits a second, floating while Helmet Man tries to clear his vision again.

"Fuck!" Jason swears again, and then he says something in Spanish that Danny doesn't understand but he's pretty sure is probably not PG13.

Danny doesn't hesitate for another second before he's flying away. He'll need to find the older halfa again, but for now he needs to get far away and fast. He wasn't sure what a regular human gun would do to a half-ghost, and he wasn't about to find out.

Jason, finally regaining his vision, whips his head around. The alley is empty, and there's no sign of where the kids went or how he managed to slip past. He shoved his helmet back on, huffing in frustration. Damn it all. He was going to have to track the poor kid down wasn't he?.... Yeah. Bruce rubbed off on him, clearly, because even now as Jason stalked back out of the alley he couldn't help but to mentally fill out paperwork.. He was calling dibs on this one- black hair, blue eyes, and apparently carrying a flash bang? Batman could fight him for custody. Besides... There was something off about the kid- how did he know Jason was dead? And what was all the weird talking about 'cores' and 'ecto'?

[bloodykora]

Yall i ain't gonna lie im very sleepy tonight. Its not even 12:30 and I wanna go mimimimi so I'll leave you with this:

What if Buggy took care of us, what if he tucked us into bed for once knowing how tired we were. For the first time ever he cracks down the wall of just receiving that delicate and new kind of love and decides to give it back.

Helping you change into sleep clothes, admiring how your skin looks in the moon's glow, listening to your mumblings of sleep nothing and nodding along, tucking your feet into the bed and lifting the covers. And he expects to leave you, walk away back to his captain duties.

But you grab his hand, your eyes barely open but still somehow staring up at him so deeply that he feels guilty about leaving. There are no words, just a small defeated sigh from you and he knows you've won.

"Just stay, to protect me." You let out, barely audible. "You're right, I wouldn't want anyone to sneak up on you during the night." He takes off his boots before slipping in beside you, it doesn't take long til you're cuddled up with him. And then soon after you're both dozing off into rest.

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 ! ❞

❝ THE FOUR TIMES YOUR NEIGHBOR TRIES TO HOOK UP WITH YOU AND THE ONE TIME HE SUCCEEDS !! ❞

✧ pairing: uncle! sukuna x neighbor! reader

✧ summary: you had grown up next door to the itadoris, but you never had met their uncle. and for good reason, he had spent the majority of his life in and out of jail. but now he was finally out, and he only had one goal in mind -- getting you in his bed.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, modern au, uncle sukuna, degradation (slut, whore, brat), freshly out from jail sukuna, implied age gap (sukuna probably like late 30s / early 40s, reader is like mid twenties), wet dreams (f!), masturbation (f! +m!), dom!sukuna, sub!reader, dirty talk, oral (f + m), spanking (f!receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, orgasm delay (f! receiving), implied multiple rounds, swearing, fanart found on pinterest (let me know if you know the og artist)

✧ w/c: 8,939

You were a pretty little thing. 

That’s what he thought when he first saw you. And when he saw you smile, his second thought was — how could he have you? 

You were the girl next door. Literally. Grew up next to the Itadori family, you watched the brat on weekends, helped around the house after the mom had left, and even slept over some nights in the guest room. 

The very room you were in now, pinned underneath him, legs spread as your cunt gushed as if you had been the one doing time instead of him. 

“Fuck, girl, did the boys your age not fuck you properly?” He clicks his tongue, the glint of his piercing in the low light of the moonlight that illuminated the barest hint of the room. It was by that light that you could not only see the way his lips curled into a smirk as his hand came down on your needy pussy, but the noticeable bulge in his pants, “g’nna have to fix that,” as he thumbs meanly at your swollen clit, “I’ll have you screaming my name soon enough.” 

“Are the cookies almost done?” Yuji asked, rubbing the back of his head, squinting at the cookies through the oven window, trying to make sense of what he was seeing, “sure you’re not burning them?” 

“I know how to bake cookies, Yu,” you roll your eyes, as you clean the counters off of the flour and bits of dough and sugar that smeared the surface, “why are you so impatient anyway?” 

“He wants to leave before the wrecking ball blows through, and you should do that same,” Choso adds, emerging from his room with a yawn, and you tilt your head, his gaze slides to Yuji, “she doesn’t know?” 

Yuji shakes his head, “I thought Dad was—” 

Choso glances at you, gesturing to his face to tell you that you had something on your own, before his eyes slide back to his younger brother, “You know Jin can barely remember to tell us, much less—” 

You cross your arms, wiping the flour and sugar from your cheek, but you only manage to make it worse, “Can you guys just tell me instead of having an argument about who should have told me?” 

Yuji sighed, leaning against the counter, elbow propped up as he held his head up with his fist flat against his chin, “My dad’s brother is coming to stay for us for the summer,” 

“Your uncle?” and you miss the way Yuji grimaces at the question, too busy pulling on oven mitts, “Your dad’s great — I can’t imagine your uncle being any different,” you pull the cookies from the oven, swatting Yuji’s hand as he tries to take one off the still burning rack, “you’ll burn yourself, just wait,” 

Your own family was scattered here and there now — and the Itadoris had been like your own family as you grew up — Jin was like a second dad to you, he had always looked after you, even after you had graduated from college. The quiet man didn’t say much but he did a lot, and you couldn’t imagine his brother being much different. 

And then the door swung open, a large man caught in the backlight of the summer sun, casting a long shadow across the entryway made your breath stick in your chest as if it was where it belonged — pinned under his mere presence. 

“Looks like you’ve done nothing to change the place, did you?” He takes a step or two in and finally his body is cast into view — tattoos bound like ribbons against his skin, muscles are heavy cords that look more monstrous than human — as no human should be as hulking as he was. But that was nothing compared to his face itself — black tattoos lining both sides of his face in an intricate pattern that stole your breath from your lungs, while his eyes were black holes that cut right through you than at you, a flicker of flames burning underneath, “tch, brat, take my things up—“ he tosses the duffle bag slung over his shoulder at Yuji who catches it with a glare, before his gaze slides to Choso, “and he’s still here?” 

“Don’t be rude to my son and his brother, Sukuna,” Jin sighed, entering behind him as he shut the door, “Choso is welcome, and don’t forget you’re a guest here,” he takes the bag from his son, and takes it upstairs instead. 

And Sukuna’s gaze finally falls on you. It’s heavy, the sharp tip of a sword tracing every inch of your body as it circled its weak points — his eyes lingers on the curves of your body — and perhaps the points he liked too. 

“And who’s this?” he jerks his head towards you gruffly, as if you couldn’t answer yourself. 

You say your name, “I’m their neighbor,” and he nods, eyes darting to Choso, his body growing tense, as he gritted his teeth, but Sukuna was only all smiles, he took steps forward. You can’t help but avert your gaze, as he approaches, fingers outstretched, a slight flinch but it’s gone soon enough. 

You glance up, and find him taking a bite of one of your cookies, tongue darting out to lick the chocolate from his lips, “sweet,” he devours it, “not bad, brat,” and he leans close again to grab another, “but probably not as sweet as you.” 

And your eyes widen, as he bears no reaction, except for a small smirk that graces his lips, as he follows his brother upstairs, “You better not be fucking around in my things,” 

You don’t hear Jin’s reply, still utterly consumed by what just happened. 

“You okay? He’s just like that,” Choso murmurs, “he won’t bother you, I promise,” 

“No, no, I’m okay,” your lips curl in an offer of reassurance, but you’re sure it falls flat, as your eyes glance back at the stairs. 

And that was your first time meeting Sukuna. 

But far from your last.  

The next time you saw him was at a summer barbecue the Itadoris always had to kick off summer break. And most of your time was spent chatting with Choso and kicking Yuji’s ass at Mario Kart, until it grew dark, and Choso was stuck carrying a slightly tipsy Yuji inside.

You laid back in the patio chair, scrolling on your phone to the symphony of cicadas filling the silence, the smoke from the barbecue still lingering in the night — and then you hear the creak of the back door open. 

“You want another drink, Choso?” 

“I’d love a drink, girl,” and your eyes snap over to spot Sukuna, standing with hands tucked into his pockets, a black tank you assumed was several sizes too small. 

“Sure,” you say, slipping from your chair, “but we only have the mix for a sex on the beach,” and his eyes find yours, a ghost of a gruff chuckle on his lips. 

“Sounds perfect if it’s from you, sweetheart,” and you have to suppress the urge to roll your eyes — he may be nice to look at, but he isn’t smooth, you make the drink in relative silence. Until you sense his presence behind you, your head whipping back to find him looming, your breath caught in your throat. 

“Uh—“ 

“Just wanted to see a master bartender at work, you seem like you really know what you’re doing, with, what’s the drink called again?” And you force yourself to look forward, ignoring the weird mix of his musk and alcohol, with the clink of the ice cubes against the glsd breaking the silence. 

“Sex on the beach,” you offer it to him, and fuck, you don’t like it — don’t like him and his smug grin, the way your eyes can’t pull away from his, the way your heart clenched, and the way you wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug smile on off his face. 

“Good girl,” he plucks the drink from you, his fingers brushing yours, “want to have one with me?” 

And you almost find yourself saying yes, find yourself buckling under the heat of his gaze and the summer humidity that clings to your skin and strangles the sense from your head — and you can’t help but think how nice those fingers of his would feel around your neck—

“No, no, I probably should head home. It’s late—“ and just then the back door opens again, Choso standing in the doorway, “Choso, where’s Yu?” 

“I got him to bed. Come on, I’ll walk you home,” and you nod, grabbing your bag with a slight nod to Sukuna before disappearing inside, and you don’t catch the way your best friend glares at Sukuna. 

And you don’t see the way Sukuna stares at you as you walk away either. 

The third time you meet Sukuna is a few nights later — and it wasn’t for lack of trying to avoid him. 

“Can I have some popcorn?” you ask, eyes still glued to the TV, a movie that the two of you had seen a million times before during movie night, “Choso?” you glance over at him, but he’s staring off into space, “hello?” you nudge him, and he finally comes to. 

“Sorry, what?” And you sigh, leaning over and grabbing the popcorn bowl, “sorry I was just—“ he shakes his head, “nothing,” 

“You’re so convincing,” and you see a flush crawl up his neck, “C‘mon, what’s bothering you?” 

You toss a pillow at Choso, the pillow bouncing off his face to land in his lap, the glow of the TV in his dark bedroom giving you enough light to see the glare on his face, “Cho, you’ve been brooding all night — did Yuji call you by your name instead of big brother?” 

He scoffs, “I only got upset about that once,” or twice or maybe ten times, “it’s Sukuna. He’s been really grating on my nerves,” and your eyebrows knit together, as you put the volume of the TV down. 

“What has he done?” and Choso hesitates, several emotions flicker across his face before a stoic look glazes over his face, as he presses his hand to his lips, “you can tell me—“ 

There’s a knock at the door, and Yuji sticks his head in, “Hey, Dad has to sleep now for a meeting, so move to the living room,” and you throw popcorn at him, but he only catches one or two in his mouth and leaves. 

You sigh, “I should probably just go home anyway, I have to get some sleep,” you glance at Choso, who is fascinated with his floor all of a sudden, “you okay?” He moves to get up, but you shake your head, “just chill, I’ll walk back.” 

He opens his mouth to argue, but shuts it,  “I’m fine, just get home safe okay?”

You snort, “think I’ll be fine walking the ten feet to my door,” you grab your things, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” 

And you close the door softly, turning to head up the hallway and out of the house, bag slung over your shoulder, and you’re turning the corner, when you nearly crash into someone. 

A hand curls around your wrist to steady you, “You should watch where you’re going, brat,” and your eyes flit up to find a dark gaze looking back down at you, lips curled in a small grin, “don’t know what you’ll find wandering these halls,” 

You pull your arm away, “I’m pretty familiar with these halls and what wanders them,” 

“Not all of them,” the low tone of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, as you brush past him, avoiding his piercing gaze, cutting through you with practiced ease, “what were you doing here so late anyway?” You ignore him as you go to grab your shoes, but find them missing. 

“Have you seen my shoes?” and he only tilts his head, arms crossed, muscles inked with tattoos that littered up and down, and you knew he could pin you down with barely an ounce of effort. 

“Maybe answer my question and I’ll tell you,” and your lips twist into a scowl, as you begin to look around, checking the coat closet, under the couch, “was he really that bad?” And his question makes you pause, “the cursed brat, in bed? Did he not do the job for you?” 

You haul yourself to your feet, “What is your problem?” 

And his expression is as milquetoast as ever, as if he had asked you about the weather as opposed to asking if you had fucked your best friend, “You don’t have to be fucking sensitive, it’s just a question,” he runs his painted nails through his dyed cropped hair, low light glinting off the black sheen, “unless it was that bad,” 

“Fuck off,” you scoff, trying to walk past him but he blocks you, “what?” 

“Maybe I’ll help you find your shoes, if you have a drink with me,” and you cross your arms. 

“Did you go to jail for stealing? Because with all those muscles and tattoos, I’m surprised you weren’t caught sooner,” and he’s leaning closer, breath warming your lips and your blood alike, boiling under your skin as if he had set you on fire without lying a single finger on you. 

“Didn’t take you to be one to admire me, little one, after all, I’m just your neighbors’ uncle aren’t I? Jailbird, criminal, fucking lowlife, right? And his fingers ghost over your jaw, “but I don’t see you pulling away, do I?” 

And you aren’t. But why aren’t you? Every brain cell is telling you to fucking run, but your body wants nothing more than to lean into his touch, to give in, let yourself be engulfed by him—

The creak of the door has you jumping back, “hey, you forgot your shoes—“ Choso starts, and his gaze snaps between you and Sukuna. 

“Thanks, Cho,” you slip past Sukuna, grabbing your shoes, “i was wondering what I did with them,” you step into your shoes, cheeks still burning as you can’t quite meet your best friend’s eyes, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” 

And you’re gone without another word, the silence of your exit hanging overhead as the screen door clicks closed behind you. Sukuna watches you leave, and as he turns he’s met with a glare from Choso. 

Sukuna only gives a gruff chuckle, walking past as he lets his shoulder bump against Choso’s, “What are you fucking looking at?” 

And now he had visited you in your dreams too. 

“S’fucking wet,” Sukuna has you pinned down with one hand, face hovering over your drenched cunt, as he toyed with it, tugging your folds apart to let some of your pre drip onto your bedspread, “fucking slut, you were begging for this, weren’t you?” 

And a thick digit sinks into you with little resistance, making your back arch as pleasure rips up your spine, “fuck off,” you manage, between pants. 

“I know, brat, that’s what I’m trying to do,” he laughs, as he works a second finger inside you with practiced ease, “like I was made to fuck this cunt open, my fingers are already fucking drenched, and all I’ve done is open you up,” and to punctuate his point, he’s scissoring his fingers to stretch your walls out, dragging against them, as your mouth falls open in a silent moan. 

“A-ah, please—“ and he’s grinning now, a purr as he leans down to meet your blown out gaze. His fingers begin to fuck you open, his thumb rubbing against your clit as your body rocked against his hand. And a grunt has you looking at him, only to see him palming his erection, slit dripping with precum, “Sukuna, please—“ 

“Knew you’d be a good girl f’me, good little slut gonna break my fingers in two,” and his other hand spanks your clit, “now cum,” 

And you do, muscles clenching as you do, a cry of his name on your lips that does nothing but stroke his ego, your orgasm soaking his hand. Eyes fluttering open to find him licking your release from his fingers, as his other hand undoes his pants and tugs down his boxers, his cock already dragging against your still twitching cunt. 

“Fuck,” you mumble, under your breath, and he only smiles. 

“Now you’re getting it, baby.” 

And your alarm jolts you awake, you stare at your ceiling, watching the ceiling fan spin, while you glance at your side to find nothing but your comforter beside you. Not to mention, as you shifted, feeling the telltale stickiness of your arousal and the dull throbbing of your cunt, the aftermath of your dream — your very wet dream. 

“Fuck,” you say, this time out loud and to no one but yourself. This was going to be a problem, if you let this go on. And you couldn’t. Not after the last time — you swing your feet over the edge of the bed and stand, glancing back at the stain of your pre that you flipped your comforter over — and not after that. 

“Have you been avoiding me?” 

Yes, you have done a good job. Until now. 

You gritted your teeth, as you stood in the doorway of the room. But how could you have avoided him in the guest room of the house he lived in? 

And as he loomed in the doorway of the kitchen, dwelling in the shadow of his form, you were kicking the ass of past you, the one that had convinced you it was okay to stay over because Sukuna had been out. 

“Had” being the operative word. 

It had been a few days since you had found yourself at the Itadoris. And more than a few days since you had found yourself dreaming of Sukuna — waking up with his name on your tongue and your panties uncomfortably drenched. You had gone through more underwear this week than you had in a month. And it didn’t help that you felt the need to get off once you did wake, the ache between your thighs was too much to bear before sleep. 

And now here was the subject of your dirty dreams darkening your doorway, as if your dreams were some naughty prophecy waiting to unfold (though you were sure he could fold you). 

“What are you talking about?” 

And you knew exactly what he was talking about. You had made sure Sukuna wasn’t around when you came over (the absence of his motorcycle is a telltale sign), and always left before he returned. But tonight you made the mistake of drinking with Choso, the two of you finishing two bottles of sake before being completely fucked. 

Your head was spinning — you could barely have made it to the bathroom, much less your home. Choso had corralled you into taking his bed, before going and collapsing on his couch. It had been only a few hours into the night before you got up in a haze of confusion with your mouth drier than the Sahara. You pulled yourself up, slipped on thin sleep shorts that you had thrown off at some point due to the summer humidity, before finding your way to the door. 

You made your way to the kitchen, the squeak of the fridge as you pulled it open to grab a water bottle. And that’s when he spoke. 

“And here you are,” and the water bottle nearly slipped from your grasp, “no need to jump, brat, I’m not a monster or a shadow,”

No, but he’s so much worse, he’s real. 

“I was just getting something to drink,” you murmur, and he tilts his head, as he takes a step closer. 

“Just water?’ That’s not the kind of drink you still owe me,” and why was his presence so intoxicating? Several drinks in and you could still hold your own, still speak in complete sentences, and even make your way home on foot. But Sukuna comes near, and suddenly you can barely form a fucking syllable, your limbs feel far too heavy, and your body is nearly burning, as if he had turned your blood to wine without any miracle needed. 

No, it was more of a curse. 

“I don’t remember owing you anything,” and he’s tilting his head, amusement flickering across his lips, a step closer and then another, until you’re utterly engulfed in his presence. You can smell the mix of exhaust and sweat off of him from his motorcycle ride, the way his jaw tenses as if he is holding himself back from taking a bite, and the way his gaze pierces into you as if he has you pinned like a butterfly under glass. 

“Do I need to give you a reason?” And when his fingers ghosted over your swell of your cheek, a featherlight brush from rough, calloused skin that makes a shiver roll down your body, “didn’t think I had to with the way you were nearly melting into my touch when I saw you last, girl,” 

“I wasn’t the one begging for me to be there,” and he clicks his tongue derisively, and you wonder what else he can do with it, before his fingers grip your chin roughly, forcing your gaze to his. 

“Tch, so pleased with yourself just for resisting, are you, sweetheart?” he tilts his head, while his other hand slithers down your side until he finds your waist and tugs you close, lips hanging close, a forbidden fruit begging you to take a bite, “imagine how good you’d feel if you gave in,” and you almost do, melting into his touch, as if you were made to fit in his arms, leaning up so you could feel the warm breath of his welcome—

SLAM! 

You’re sent stumbling back again, clearing your throat, as the sounds of footsteps grow close, and Yuji wanders into the kitchen, mouth pulled open by his yawn, as he blinks as he spots the two of you. 

“Hey, I thought you were asleep upstairs,” he walks past the two of you to grab a water bottle from the refrigerator, and sparing a short glance at Sukuna, “and I thought you had plans,” 

“Plans can change, brat,” Sukuna sighs, his eyes still trained on you — a homing missile with a target, and Yuji was an obstacle in the way, “shouldn’t you go back to bed?” 

“I could ask you two the same,” he leaned against the kitchen counter for a moment, while you only shook your head. 

“I’m going to go to bed,” your only exit opportunity and you’d take it — there had been enough mistakes made, and you didn’t need another to add to the list, and you’re slipping back into your room without another word. 

You don’t see the way Sukuna glares at his nephew, cursing the day of his existence with only his eyes, only gaining a confused stare in return, “What? Ow!”

And you’re only left questioning why Yuji is holding a bag of ice to his head the next morning. 

But you knew you couldn’t avoid Sukuna forever — and you couldn’t avoid how you felt either.

Especially when he gave you exactly what you wanted — space. You had barely seen him for the next week, the former criminal making himself scarce, apparently telling his brother that he had grown tired of “rooming with a bunch of brats,” and had found himself another place to stay for a while. 

Jin had sighed when you had asked over breakfast a day or so after he left, “I don’t know how long he’ll be gone, but we’ll see. The only requirement of his release was to stay in the prefecture—” 

“And that’s already far too close,” Yuji muttered under his breath, earning a sharp look from his dad, “so we don’t even know if he’ll be back huh?” 

Jin shrugs, as he sips his coffee, “I don’t know — your uncle isn’t one to stay in one place — unless there’s something that he wants,” 

“I’ll take any amount of time that he’s not here,” Choso shakes his head, offering you a small smile, “and this way you can stay over in the guest room now,” 

“Yeah, true,” you offered a weak smile, as you continued to pick at your food. This was good news, things were going back to normal, but even so, as you pushed your food on your plate — why did your chest ache so much? 

“Yuck, do people’s heads really explode like that?” Yuji sat with the two of you in the living room, TV playing the movie Yuji had chosen, shoveling popcorn by the fistful. 

“How would we know that?” you snort, stealing popcorn from his bowl, “why did you even choose this movie anyway?” 

“He heard there was a Megan Thee Stallion cameo in it,” and Yuji’s cheeks flushed, visible even in the dim illumination of the TV, as he got to his feet. 

“I’m gonna get a drink, do you two want anything?” And you both shake your heads, as you stifle your chuckle. 

“You wanna stay over tonight?” Choso asks, and you tilt your head, toying with a popcorn kernel between your fingers. 

You shrug, “we’ll see,” your eyes drift back to the movie, but you feel the creak of the bed as he shifts. 

“You don’t have been avoiding staying over, even though it’s just us,” Fuck, your eyes still found themselves on the screen instead of him, anywhere but him, and you can hear the unspoken words — even though Sukuna is not here, “are you sure we’re good?” 

And you couldn’t tell him that it wasn’t him that was bothering you. It wasn’t him keeping you up at night, it wasn’t him who had been tempting you the last few weeks, and it wasn’t him that you wanted to see — no matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, even to yourself. 

So you don’t.  

You smile as best you can, “Everything’s fine, Choso,” and he frowns, still unsure, and you know there’s only one thing that will assure him, if only a little, “I’ll stay over,” 

And so you end up in the guest room — far too late. Even though Sukuna no longer lingered here, his scent still did, even with the sheet change and the small amount of his things gone, he was still very much here. 

And it did little for your sleep. Or maybe too much. 

Again, you dreamt of him, his large palms dragging down your sides, lips pulled in a smirk that he pressed to the hollow of your throat before it’s consumed by a flash of canines that pinch and tease the softness of your flesh. 

“S’fucking wet,” he huffs a chuckle out, “such a little slut, been wanting this for far too long haven’t you?” And he’s undoing your robe with ease, a single tug has your body revealed to him, “haven’t even laid a finger on you and look at the mess you’ve made,” he clicks his tongue, and a whine parts your lips, “already whining like a bitch?” 

He shoves two fingers inside you, a gasp ripped from your throat, thick digits stretching your walls, clenching around the intrusion, “Sukuna—please,” 

“Silly girl,” he murmurs in your ear, “I’m not even the one touching you now,” and fantasy melts into reality as his hand cups your chin, eyes fluttering open, “but I know I can make you cum faster than any dream,” 

Wait. What? 

And suddenly the touch down your body feels all too real, pain ribboning from the fingers squeezing your hips hard, and a gasp as your body trembles, still caught between sleep and reality. Your body can’t move, but it’s not the weight of your own limbs keeping you still. 

Your eyes shoot open completely, sleep shed completely from your mind. 

And you found Sukuna, his lips curled in a smile that was far too familiar from other sleepless nights. But was it? Or was it another dream that he had invaded, far too real as you slept in his bed, rather than your own. 

Your hand reaches out for him shakily, fingers tracing the hard line of his jaw, “Is this real?” you mutter, more to yourself, but he takes it upon himself to answer, his hand darting out to curl around your wrist, squeezing, while the other holds himself up, mattress creaking a divot where his hand pressed in, body heat all too close. 

“Want me to pinch you? Can’t say it’ll be the cheek you’re thinking of,” he chuckles, unable to meet his gaze, “don’t go acting like a shy virgin now, woman. You’re the one having wet dreams about me,” 

“No, I-I, it wasn’t—“ but your brain is short circuiting and his laugh that rumbles against you tells you he’s enjoying this far too much, “what are you doing here? I thought you left,” the statement comes out far too biting, and he raises an eyebrow. 

“I did, but it was just for a week. I had some business to deal with,” and a grin pulls at his lips, “why? Did you miss me, brat? Is that why you’re dreaming of me?” 

You’re squirming underneath him trying to look anywhere but him, “I’m not, it wasn’t—“ and he only hums, dragging a hand down your front, until he’s reaching your shorts, a brief pause to see if you’d pull away, but you don’t, and fingers pressing against your soaked shorts. 

“That why you’re soaked through your fucking shorts?” And the rough pads of his fingers grind against your eager hole, nearly swallowing you in, only the thin fabric of your shorts keeping his fingers from fucking you then and there, “least your body’s honest — so eager to get fucked,” and he’s teasing your drenched entrance, drawing his fingers back to have your pre like spiderwebs between the two digits. 

“Sukuna, please—“ and his lips curl. 

“Tell me to stop, and I’ll go,” a small whine left your throat, the throbbing between your thighs growing with the way his gaze undid you — unscrewed you by your hinges and watched you fall apart, only to ask you to put yourself back together. 

But you couldn’t. Not without him. 

“Sukuna—“ 

“I didn’t ask you to whine, are you going to answer my question—-“ 

“Fuck me,” the words fall from your lips as if possessed, and you can’t find it in you to regret them. 

And he smiles all the same. 

“About fucking time,” and his fingers meanly rub against your clit through the paper thin fabric of your shorts, “didn’t even fucking put on panties and you expect me to think you didn’t want me fuck you open,” and embarrassment burns at your cheeks, “did you get this wet from dreaming about me?” And no words come to your mind, and he gives you a sharp spank to your clothed slit, drawing a sharp gasp to your lips and slick flooding from your folds, “better use your words, woman,” 

“Fuck, please, I need—“ and his fingers practically rip your shorts off, letting your cunt gush onto the sheets. 

“Need me to fuck you that bad? G’nna beg this criminal to fuck you open?” And he’s toying with your folds, tugging your tight hole apart as his eyes rake over your pussy, exposed for him, “after all of your teasing, what makes you think you even deserve to be fucked? Maybe I should leave you like this, fingers buried in your cunt, wishing they were your neighbor’s uncle’s,” and a sadistic smile graces his features as it only can his, “fuck yourself for me,” 

You whimper, as his fingers leave your hole, clenching around nothing as if begging for his touch, “what? But—“ 

“Fuck yourself until you cum, wanna see what you’ve been doing when you’re fucking me in your sleep,” the absence of his touch leaves you keening and needy, for something, anything to get you off. Want overcomes inhibition, and your shaky fingers find their way to your cunt, fingertips tracing the outer lips, a gasp you barely recognize as your own when you rub against your clit, “c’mon girl, gotta open yourself up for me — think I’ll fit if you just rub yourself like that?” And he’s pressing his clothed erection against your thigh — and he’s fucking big — rock hard cock rubbing against you through damp damp sweatpants. 

And his fingers grabs your own, guiding them to your slick hole, letting them slip past your fluttering walls, while his own teased your outsides, “Good girl,” and the praise makes your walls clench, and he’s chuckling, “want to be a fucking good girl, then fuck yourself until I see you cum for me,” 

You swallow your whines, beginning to move your fingers in and out, your insides clinging to you, as if begging for something longer, thicker, better — and you knew his fingers would be. A moan falls from your lips, and he clicks his tongue. 

“Gotta be rougher than that,” and his fingers curl around the base of your own, using your fingers as a glorified fuck toy. Your head lolled back, as he controlled the pace of your fingers, fucking you hard and fast, reaching places you didn’t think were possible with your fingers, “that’s it, you’re close aren’t you? Like being fucked with your own fingers, don’t you, you slut?” And you’re shuddering, soft cries and moans filling the silence of the night with the loud squelch of your cunt. 

“Sukuna, f-fuck, ngh, I can’t—“ and he only begins to rub on your clit with his thumb. 

“Yes you can,” he gruffly chuckles, murmuring in your ear as he leans forward, “cum on your fingers like you have every night for me,” and he forces your gaze to meet his as your fingers brush that one spot that has your back arching, “say my name,” 

And you do, cumming hard around your fingers, as he uses them to fuck you through your orgasm, the wet noises of your folds growing louder as your thighs shake. Your eyes meet his, glassy with tears from your high, and Sukuna leans down to lick the salty tear from your cheek. 

He pulls your fingers from inside you, your sticky cum coating your digits and even dripping onto his own. He smirks as he eyes them, before sliding them into his mouth. A moan pulled from your lips as he sucks your essence clean from them, tongue dragging up the length of your fingers. 

“Shit, that was a nice moan,” and his eyes fall back to your drenched cunt, “Still so fucking tight,” he clicks his tongue, Fuck, girl, did the boys your age not fuck you properly? G’nna have to fix that,” as he thumbs meanly at your swollen clit, “I’ll have you screaming my name soon enough.” 

he hums, taking in your ruined state — tear stained cheeks, your dripping cunt, and your red ruined lips from biting them, “so fucking pretty like this,” and you hear him shift, the distinct sound of his phone camera, making your eyes snap open. 

“No, fuck, no don’t—“ and he’s turning the screen around to show you how absolutely fucked you look, “please—“ 

“It’s a little too late for that, can’t have anyone buying your little virgin act anymore huh?” he’s grinning as he leans forward, pinning your thighs in place as you try to squirm away, “don’t move,” 

His order makes your muscles tense, unable to move your body under the heavy grasp of his hands splayed against your hips. The pads of his fingers dig into your soft flesh, as his lips dare closer to your weeping slit. 

“Fuck, are you a virgin though? You’re still so fucking tight even after that little show you put on for me,” and he doesn’t give you a chance to reply, his breath warming your twitching cunt, “either way, you won’t be one soon,” and he’s burying his mouth in your pussy. 

You moan, covering your mouth before he sucks on your clit, tongue teasing your hole open, a wave of heat flooding your body. The sounds of his licking and slurping fill your ears — and you wonder how the whole house isn’t awake yet. 

You can’t stop your hips from nearly fucking his face, but he spanks your thigh, hard, as he pulls his mouth from your dripping slit, “I told you not to move,” and he spanks your clit for good measure, making you yelp against your fingers, “tell me when you’re about to cum,” and you whimper, “or I can open this door and let the house hear us,” 

You nod, but he doesn’t miss the way your slit twitches at the thought, and his mouth curls in a nasty smirk, “such a fucking slut, maybe I will,” and he’s plunging two thick fingers into your greedy cunt, a gasp ripped from your throat at the intrusion, walls fluttering as they attempt to accommodate his digits. But it’s all squeezing and barely any stretch, as his fingers work you open. 

And it doesn’t take long to get you worked up, his digits knuckle deep and dripping wet, “gonna fucking break my fingers in two with your virgin hole, girl,” he grunts, your body burning with his touch alone, nails dragging against your walls, curling so they can bully that sweet spot just right, “you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” the telltale squeeze of your cunt tells him so, and you’re nodding, and his fingers slip from inside. 

You’re whining, tears burning at the corners of your eyes, “Please, fuck, wanna cum,” the pleasure that had built was throbbing, a dam close to bursting but denied its relief, so it remained, begging and waiting — “please, Sukuna—“ 

“So you do know how to beg like a good little whore, gonna fuck you again, but you can’t cum until I tell you,” and he’s sinking three fingers into you now, eyes rolling back as your back arches, but he’s fucking you meanly, curling and twisting his fingers, until the pleasure is a tight knot in your belly, barely hanging on from snapping, “wait,” he grunts, and it’s as if your warmth is made for him — or now it was, because he’s made it his, “wait,” and you’re sure he’s reached your cervix somehow, fingertips reaching places you’ve only dreamed of (literally), and then he leans down lips around your clit as he orders you, “now, cum,” 

And you do, hard, as he sucks around your clit while fucking you through your orgasm, cum flooding his fingers and face alike, drenching him, even as he slurped and sucked up every bit. 

He finally pulls away, a shiver slips down your spine as he slips his fingers from inside you, pink tongue flicking against his lips, still slick with your cum, What a fucking mess you’ve made,” he sneers, but he’s licking his lips clean all the same, “should make you clean up the mess you made, shouldn’t I?” And he’s pressing the pads of his fingers to your lips, you’re too fucked out to fight, lips parting with ease, “suck,” and you do, opening wide to let his fingers inside, lips and tongue curled around the same fingers that had explored your cunt. 

He watched as you obediently sucked every drop of your juices off, a trickle of drool slipping down the corner of your lips makes his already hard cock twitch in his pants, and he’s pulling his fingers from your mouth. 

“Better than your dreams, huh, sweetheart?” he drags his thumb down your bottom lip, he can’t fucking wait a minute longer, “turn around, gonna fuck this slutty princess cunt from behind,” but you only can watch as he tugs down his sweatpants and boxers alike, his cock slapping against his stomach. 

Fuck, he’s even bigger than you had imagined. Mushroom tip red and hard, as pretty veins run up the sides, and he was looking as if he’d not only split you open, but break you all together. 

Your thighs quaked at the thought, more slick slipping from your needy cunt — and you wanted him to.  

Your knees shake, as you turn slowly, much too slowly his pace, and he grunts, his hands gripping your hips, as he flips you onto your stomach, a yelp leaving your lips as you bounce on the mattress. “have to fuckin’ do everything myself for this whore’s pussy,”

You’re gripping the sheets, nails surely tearing holes in the thin fabric of the sheets, as his calloused palm comes down on your ass, hard, the smack echoing in the silence of the night, a mewl you don’t recognize as your own, “Sukuna, please, I can’t—“ 

“You can, you’ll take whatever I give you, brat,” and another smack finds your ass again, as he pinches the flesh for good measure, drawing another moan from your lips and another chuckle from his, “and you’ll take this cock too,” and he doesn’t spare you a moment as he presses his swollen, dripping cockhead to your drenched hole, smearing his pre all over your ass — as if to erase any doubt you were his, because there wasn’t — before finally sliding in. 

God, fuck. 

Your arms were already shaking, barely able to hold yourself up, but your face nearly plants into the mattress as he sinks into you — he was too fucking big. Even all the prep he had given you was nothing, nothing compared to how much his dick was stretching your cunt. 

He hummed, as your insides swallowed him eagerly, even with the slight resistance of your tight little pussy, watching as your walls parted for him with almost practiced ease, sucking him deeper and deeper, as if you were made for him. And you would be, after he fucked your cunt to his shape again and again — because this was far from the last time he would take you. 

It was only the first. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight — am I the first to fuck this pussy?” he grunts, grasping your hips tightly, your warm, wet pussy wrapped around his dick — he had waited far too long for this, too many nights spent grasping at his cock, thinking how much better it would be buried in your pussy. 

“H-hngh, Sukuna, s’big,” you’re nearly babbling as he works himself into you, inch by inch, not even halfway in, and you were gonna cum just from him putting his dick in, “can’t fit—” and he’s scoffing, watching you squirm against his length, but he only continues to fuck his way into your tight hole, another sharp slap to your ass as a warning. 

“I’ll make it fit, girl,” he growls — like fuck he was stopping now that’s gotten this far, there was only one way this was ending — and it was with his cock fucking you full of his cum, “c’mon, did the dream not compare to the reality? Did you think I had a tiny dick?” and he thrusts shallowly against you, sending another inch inside your already stuffed folds, drawing a needy whine from your throat, “so fucking loud, you gonna let the whole house know what we’re doing at this rate,” 

he murmurs, bending down to your ear, and your walls squeeze around him, a vice grip that has him nearly cumming then and there, but no he won’t, not yet, “fuck, did you think about letting Choso know? Maybe I’d let him watch me fuck you, only way he’ll ever see you like this,” and you whimper as he slams into you, finally bottoming out as his tip bullies your womb, making you cry out against your fingers, “to think the pretty girl next door is on her hands and knees like a slut for me now, getting split open by my dick. What would Choso think?”

You’re whining, “Please, fuck, slow down—” but he only pulls out a little to piston back in, balls slapping against your ass as he does, setting a mean pace, as he chuckles in your ear. 

“You’re saying that, but we both know that’s not what you want — slutty fucking pussy trying break my cock in two,” the sounds of your skin slapping against you as his tip brushes against your cervix rings in your ear, even as he murmurs in it, “y’’know he wants to fuck you right? The little brat is always watching you, nearly fisting himself at the sight of you,” he’s forcing you upwards, pressing your back to his chest, “he wants you, but he’ll never have you, because this pussy is mine,” and his hand finds the bulge in your stomach, pressing down, as you keen, head falling back against his shoulder, as tears pooled in your pretty eyes, “but he’d never be able to reach here and fuck you like you want — like a whore,” his other hand pinches and teases your pebbled nipples, before sliding up to your neck, squeezing lightly, “say you’re mine,” 

You can’t find the words, all of them fucked out of your body to make room for his cock seemingly — the only words remaining his name and “please,” but you have to do better than that, and he slows his pace to nothing, as he pulls out so only his tip teases your entrance, a whine leaving your pathetic mouth.

“If you’re not mine, guess I don’t need to let you finish, do I?” and you’re shaking your head, frantic and repentant. 

“I’m yours, i’m yours, Sukuna, please—” and he’s sliding right back into you, fucking you harder, balls slapping against your ass and sweet cunt swallowing him up to the base, a white ring of your pre cum forming around it — and he just knows you’re close, by the twitch of your sweet pussy — and his hand reaches around to rub at your clit,  “I’m—” 

And he ruts into you, hard and deep that you’re sure his length brushes against your womb — and you’re cumming, falling apart around him, but he doesn’t relent — but had he ever? He didn’t relent over these past few weeks, and he wouldn’t now, not until he was filling you up and watching his cum drip out of your hole—

You’re slipping back forward, face forward into the pillow and mattress, as he grunts watching your slick drip down your ass and thighs and onto the sheets — his balls tense with his release, “Fuck—” and that’s all the warning you get before he slams back into you to bottom out, as he blows his load. 

His release is hot as it fills you up, never ending it seems as he slowly fucks you through his orgasm, his spurts slowing with time, until he’s finally stilling, a soft grunt, as he pulls himself from inside your warm cunt. A soft groan at the sight of his seed spilling from inside you — you’re boneless and spent, until he has you jolting forward from the press of his fingers gathering his cum and stuffing it back in. 

“Kuna, fuck, I can’t—” and he scoffs, retracting his fingers for a moment, before he’s deftly flipping you onto your back, “too sensitive,” you whine as his fingers work their way back into you. 

“Did you think I was done, woman?” and his softening erection is already standing tall again, and you’re almost wanting his fingers now at this point, even as your body disagrees, pussy squeezing at the thought of him buried inside you again. He leans forward, lips brushing against yours, a kiss full of nothing of tongue and teeth, the faint taste of your own release on his lips, “we’re far from done.” 

The sound of your name catches your attention, your eyes snapping up from your breakfast, “what?” 

“Are you okay? Choso frowns at you, as he holds his rice bowl, the rolled tamago sliced on his plate, “you look tired,” It was another morning like always, but 

You shake your head, “I just didn’t sleep well, I kept waking up from my dreams,” and it wasn’t exactly a lie — yesterday was the culmination of a million dreams you had. Dreams that only ended when the sun began to come up, with his cock still buried in your cunt as you rode him, back pressed to his chest, as he worked you up and down his dick. 

And finally when he came again, this time all over your back, he finally pressed kisses up and down his back, easing himself out, as his toned arms engulfed you. 

“Should clean up and I should head to Jin’s room,” he murmurs, “I have a feeling I won’t have a place to live if he finds me in here,” and you chuckle, too fucked out and tired, “we’ll have to get used to sneaking around. 

“Oh will we?” you had mumbled, and he answered your question with another bruising kiss to your lips. 

Yuji tilts his head, scratching it, as you lift your glass to take a sip of water, mouth far too dry now, “Is that what those noises were? It sounded like you were having nightmares,” and you nearly choke on it, but force it down, hoping the embarrassment wasn’t evident on your face, stabbing your egg. 

“Yeah, I had a couple last night,” you lied, and even as you suddenly found your breakfast far too interesting, you could feel Choso’s gaze still on you — your cheeks burning as Sukuna’s words about him still rung in your ears — along with the distinct ache between your legs and on your ass he left behind, “I’m fine, I’m just going to need a nap,” 

“You’re not the only one, girl,” Sukuna walks into the kitchen from the rooms, as Yuji and Choso balk at his presence. 

Choso’s eyes narrow, “What are you doing here?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Sukuna’s eyes find yours, the corner of his lip pulled upwards, as his gaze rakes over your form, “what’s for breakfast?” and you knew he only wished that you were the thing placed on the table for him to eat. Jin barely pays any mind, too preoccupied on his phone with his work email, as he passes a plate to Sukuna. 

“When did you even get in?” Yuji asks, as he finishes his own breakfast, leaning back on his two palms. And your insides begin to tie themselves in knots at all of these questions — knowing Sukuna would like nothing more than to tell them exactly what he was doing last night. 

“And where did you sleep?” Choso glares, adding fuel to the fire, as Sukuna looks down on him, lips a thin line,  “you didn’t bother our guest, did you?” and your cheeks burn all the same, a flicker of amusement on Sukuna’s features, lips parting only for Jin to cut in.

“He got in early this morning. He slept in my room,” Jin says with a sigh, “Don’t you two have to get ready? You’re going to your mom’s this morning,” 

“She’s not my mom,” Choso grumbles under his breath, “more like a leech,” but he still gets to his feet all the same, as Yuji follows suit, picking up their plates, a comforting hand on his older brother’s shoulder. 

“I should get to work,” Jin sighs, sparing a sharp glance at his brother, “behave,” and he turns to you, “feel free to stay as long as you want. Yuji and Choso will be back this afternoon,” 

And the three of them find their way out of the house, a rush of bags and feet, as Choso spares a glance at you. 

“I’ll be back soon — you can hang out in my room if you want,” Choso says, before scowling at Sukuna, “let me know if you need anything,” and you nod, waving him off, and the door shuts behind them all. 

Sukuna slides into place beside you, sitting as the two of you eat breakfast in relative silence. You finish up your meal, and move to get up, but Sukuna’s hand finds its way onto your thigh, holding you in place. 

“Are you done?” and you glance at him, plate empty and food untouched, “with eating?” 

“I am,” you raise an eyebrow, “And you?” 

“My appetite wants something else, sweetheart,” he leans forward, fingers inching higher until his thumb grazes your inner thigh. 

“And what’s that?” and he nearly growls his next words, thin patience already tearing in two, just as he would your clothes if you weren’t careful. 

“I’m done playing coy, woman,” he’s lifting you with ease, slinging you over his shoulder as you gasp, and he’s gotten you on top of the counter, the very same counter you had baked cookies on the day he had arrived, but now his hulking body was quickly pressing your legs apart, “there’s only one thing I want to eat in this kitchen, and it’s between your fucking thighs.” 

“Not sick of it yet?” you chuckle. 

“Think I could bury myself in your slutty pussy for days and not get sick of it,” and he looms over you, just as he had that first day, and he leans down to kiss you, stealing the logic from your mind and leaving only the need for his touch behind, “it is the sweetest thing I ever tasted after all.” 

“Really?” and he smirks, as his fingers dig into the fabric of your shorts ripping them and your panties down, the cool air against your already wet cunt. 

“Want me to prove it?” 

And oh, he would. Again and again. 

✧ a/n: i have a problem. i really wanted to write something with degradation ok?

✧ taglist: , @k0z3me , @monstrousbuu , @abiiebibie , @strawmariee , @luciiferslover , @sxnkuna , @psychxbby , @addehehe , @cpu1d , @dreamtardisspace , @authorintheshadows666 , @arcielee , @trxnmagic , @smilk01 , @abcdbleh , @elisaj313-blog , @jinslunv , @n3ptunxe , @pinkyvomit , @being-me-is-not-a-sin , @rat-loves , @spider-fan72 ,, @niks1673 , @lafffyyytafffyyy , @miseraa , @astraxa-xx , @fushitoru , @hanxyy , @milky-milkyway , @nakariabnrb , @johannakhalafalla , @tojicvmbucket , @flyingtranscatofeffed , @vampzys , @caelestine-the-caelicatto , @hatsunemitskislobotomy , @k1ttybean , @catsgomurp , @goddess-ofthe-godless , @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone , @forest-fruits-jam , @mua-for-now , @pricetagofficial

[milkmily]

Make you feel good?ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙──────────────────────────

Mr. Crawling X Fem reader

Smut cuz I want this man. Oral(reader receiving), fingering, praising, messy sex bro it's just super goofy, Mr. Crawling has a cold body so everything about him is cold, unprotected sex, PiV, I like to think he's super loud in bed, he has a long black tounge here, And I believe that's all for now :)

I played the game and omg I'm literally so obsessed over him like omg omg I love him sm

You were stressed. Tensed up.

And Mr Crawling saw this. But you'd always give him a smile whenever he asked if you were okay, if you had any pains. You were in bed, the curtains pulled as Mr. Crawling was on the floor behind them.

You had told him you just wanted some privacy for a bit. He was confused but he smiled at you. You smiled back at him and pulled the curtains. At first it was quiet. Maybe you just needed to rest a bit in private. He would have left if you asked him but that's okay. He heard some small shuffling and weird sounds. You were making sounds. You usually make these sounds when you have these ‘ scary dreams’, as you call them.

“Just wake me up when you hear me screaming or making sounds.” You told him once. You weren't exactly screaming but you were making weird sounds. He goes up to the bed as he peaks through the curtains and he sees you. You weren't wearing any clothes. Aren't you cold? You usually say you get cold when you don't have clothes on. The sheet wasn't even on you.

You were making weird sounds, your hand down between your legs as the other hand was cupping your breast. He keeps watching you. He's curious as to what you are doing. You were Whimpering, biting your lip, eyes, clothes as your head was thrown back. Your hand was rubbing small circles, your feet were curled, you were sweating as well. “Ah- Oh my-” You were so lost in your own pleasure you didn't even feel the bed Move a bit. You thought it was just you. You were so close. So so close. And then you hear Mr Crawling. you open your eyes and scream as you grab the sheets. “W-What are you doing here?! I-” he grabs on to the sheets and pulls them. He giggles as he looks down at your body. His hands go to your stomach, making you jump.

He's so cold!

Goosebumps all over your body. You look at him and let him continue. His hands move slowly up to your chest and you moan. His cold hands feel so nice on your warm body. “You Feel…good?” He asks and you nod. “Yes.” You say. He giggles and brushes his thumb over your nipple. You moaned and felt his other hand rub up and down on your thigh. You open your legs a bit more and try to move your hips to his hand. You wanted him to touch where you wanted him to. You whine as you grab his hand and move the tip of his fingers to your clit. You moved them in small circles. Fuck, he's so cold but it feels good.

He watches you as you move his hand to your wet slicks. He smiles and looks at your face. You looked like you were feeling good. No pain. Good. Pleasure. He starts to move his fingers by himself and you move your hand to cup your breast. “Good?” He asks again and you simply reply With a moan. He will simply take that as a yes. And as he watched your body move under him, he felt weird too. A good weird. He grins and moved hus fingers down to where was even more wet. You gasp at his cold touch and look at him. “Mr. Crawling- wait- um.” He stopped and tilts His head to the side. “Me make you feel good?” He asks and you nod. “Just, one.” You say as you hold a finger up. You grab his hand and show him. “One.” You say.

“One.” He repeats with you, just in his own language. He looks down and allows your hand to show him. You moved his long finger inside of you, causing you to gasp. Jesus, his fingers are so long. And honestly, his cold touch makes it feel even better. “Out.” You say as you move his hand out. “In.” And push it back in. You keep repeating as you whimper.

He moved his hand by himself, understanding now. He looks at you and sees your face. You had this expression on you that was just pure bliss. An expression he has never seen from you. He wants to see it more. He looks down at your wet cunt, covering His finger with your own cream. He starts to move faster, making you moan louder. “Ah- Yes, so good, good!” You moan as you hold on to his shoulder. He tilts his head and grins. He wonders… how would you taste? Sweet? sour? disgusting? No, you would never taste like that. You'd probably taste amazing. Just the thought of that made him lick his lips. He goes between your legs and lifts them up, putting them on his shoulder. “Wait! What are you doing?” You ask surprised and see his face closer to your dripping cunt. What would you smell like? He obviously knows you smell nice, but he needs to smell you better, closer. He needs you close to him. He needs to be inside you.

Sniff. Sniff. Sniff.

“Are you smelling me?” You ask, a bit creeped out. He looks at you and nods. “Good.” He says as he continues to smell. Oh, you smell amazing. You smell so good. You see him open his mouth and feel something cold and wet go between your folds that caused you to jump. He stopped as stood there. He grins and He grabs your hips. He hurriedly brings them closer To his face. You yelped and moaned as you felt his tongue lick your clit. “Y-Yeah, t-there. You're doing go- ah oh, you're doing good.” You moan as you move your hips. Mr. Crawling whimpers as he keeps licking your. Your praises had him feeling weird, weak, not a bad way. A good way. A good type of feeling that he wants to hear and feel more. His long tongue swirls around your small bud. He looks down at your aching hole and pushes his tongue, causing you to yelp once Again.

He seriously likes surprising you a lot.

You run your hands through his hair. Hearing him whimper just meant he liked your hands on his hair, so you kept going through his long black hair. You move your hips up and down, trying to reach your High, you need to. Fuck, all these random jump scares and random events. It just made you so stressed up. How long has it been since you've ever even felt this good?

Your ex couldn't even go down on you and Mr. Crawling is here, eating you up as if you were his first meal in years. You felt so loved and wanted with him. Because with him, he made you feel wanted. He Makes you feel good. He makes you feel so loved. You hold his hand and lock fingers with him as you throw your head back. You're close, so fucking close. You moan and gently tug at his hair, your thighs Starting to close. But he keeps them apart with only one of his arms. “I'm close! I'm so close!” You whine as you rub yourself into his nose, coming on his tounge. He's panting like a dog, droll and your juices dripping down from his chin onto the bed sheets. He pulled away and looked at you, who was panting.

“You, use me.” He says. You looked at him puzzled as he got on the bed and moved his head down. You looked down and saw a very obvious huge tent under his black gown. Oh god. “Please.” He says as he lifts up the gown to reveal his long cock, it twitches as precum drips out from The angry mushroom tip.

ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙──

Honestly you don't even know who is loud right now. You or him. He's moaning and Whimpering so loud, it just turns you on way more. You were on top of him, your legs open as you squat down on his cock, your hand on his chest to support yourself. He was moaning as his hands moved to your hips to try and help you more. His own hips moving up from time to time to feel you and be deeper inside of you.

you look down to see how your pussy would sink into his cock. God, he felt so good, he was making you feel good. You have to let him know, you already know how much he adores to be praised by you. “Good- ah! So good! You- good!” You moan as you feel his wet cock go in and out of you. And suddenly you feel something cold and goopy. You looked at him and said, “you came?”

But all he does is hold your hips and move his own on to yours. His moans became louder. It was messy. So goopy. You could hear the squish sounds that came every time you sank in, your skins slapping with the wet sounds. Honestly, it turned you on way more. You moved one of his hands to your breast that wanted attention just as much as your hips wanted them. He holds them and plays with your nipples, his long tongue swirling around them as he whimpers and moans. Your nipples got even harder as you felt his cold tongue.

You couldn't think anymore, your eyes rolling back as the tip of his cock hit your g-spot. Your legs give up in even trying. But he didn't give up, he grabbed your ass as he held and moved his hips upwards, faster and much harder. You scream as your eyes roll back even more. The bottom of his cock was covered with your cream. “T-There! Like that!” You yelled and he continued, not changing his pace. You hold tightly to his shirt as he holds the flesh Of your ass tightly, Whimpering and groaning as his cock keeps going in and out of your pussy.

Without even saying anything, you cum On his cock, soon feeling his cold cum shooting inside of you again. You whimper and whine at every touch, panting as you try to catch your breath.

Mr. Crawling lets you lay down on the bed and looks at you. “You, you feel good.” He says. “I want more.” He says as he spreads your legs open to reveal his own cum and your juices spilling out of you.

“More.” He says.

You smiled And nodded. “More.”

Mr. Gap heard and saw it all lol.

Hey @caotictimmy , I expect those feet in 3 to 5 business days.

[nereidprinc3ss]

bambi

in which spencer reid and fem!reader fuck like they missed each other (because they always do) and he teases her for her shaky legs

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom spencer, piv sex (riding, a first for nereidprinc3ss) /oral f receiving (in that order) mentions of him accidentally grabbing her hips too hard, slight somno SORT OF like he starts going down on her while she’s sleepy and then she kind of goes in and out but its all consensual, sorry haters i fucking love sleepy sex and I always will, teasing, lots of praise, fluffy, established relationship, he loves her badddd, aftercare, literally nothing bad happens no angst for once they just are having sex cause they are in love which is arguably the most superior kind of sex! a/n: I don’t think I’ve ever written smut that is so wham bam thank you ma’am like really we just get RIGHT into it!! also no gif no pics we r going old nereidprinc3ss on this one I hope you loveeee!!!

You roll over onto Spencer and kiss once, long and deep and sweet. He hums into it, too whipped to pretend like he’s got self control or respect, hands finding the soft skin of your bare waist and settling there. 

How it got to this point so quickly, no more than fifteen minutes after he walked through the door, you can’t say. Usually the two of you are a bit more domestic when he gets home from a case, but eight days is a long time to be apart, and the trail of clothing leading from the welcome mat to the foot of the bed attests to that. 

So does the lack of teasing, of begging—at least, a lack up until this point. Right now, there’s only him, patient and content to let you play at being in charge. You pull back and reach down to grab him gently, aligning him at your entrance with a trembling hand. This part, you’re not usually responsible for. 

He assures you with a hand to the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles. “You got it. Slowly.”

You do as he says, brow furrowing in focus as you sink down an inch or two onto him. Spencer’s breathing grows erratic as you take more and more of him, and in a heroic display of overachieving, you take the rest of him at once with nothing but a squeak. He laughs breathily as his fingers dig into your hips. 

“Fuck—I said slow.”

You can’t think. The overwhelm of it all is too much as you crumple forward onto his chest. The subtle rocking you’re doing to try and alleviate some of the pressure in your core is apparently too much as he stops you by the hips, fingers pressing into those same tender spots.

Spencer’s breath is ragged. “Don’t… do not move.”

“Fuck,” you breathe into his shoulder, long and drawn out as despite his wishes you wriggle around, trying to get comfortable. “Oh my god.”

“My lovely girl, please… please don’t move,” Spencer gasps, a plead, and you try to stop for him, nuzzling even deeper against his neck. “I need a minute.”

“It’s too much,” you slur, dizzy as you try to adjust to the feeling. “Please.” You don’t know what you’re asking for. Maybe relief from the sensation that he can’t offer you. Maybe more. 

Spencer is undone by you—the way you writhe on top of him, the way your voice shakes, the way you’re so totally and completely overwhelmed and he can feel it and he loves it. 

“Baby,” he breathes, and he meant to say a lot more than that, but it’s the best he can manage when he is this overstimulated. “Baby,” he whispers again, wrapping his arms around you in an effort to ground you, to give you something else to focus on as you both get used to the feeling. 

It’s going well—for a moment, before your back is arching. 

“Spence, I need to move, I can’t—”

“Okay, okay.” He takes a deep breath, returning his hands to your waist and mentally preparing himself not to cum early. He’s desperate to give you want you want, to feel you like this. “Go ahead. Move, honey. Please.”

By the time you slowly lift your hips up and drop back down with a low cry, Spencer’s lost. His head falls back against the pillow and his eyes squeeze shut. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Oh, angel, I missed you.”

You do it again, motivated by his praise, and he can hear your little gasps and desperate gulps of air. 

“I missed you so much,” you whine and clench around him, pleasure so intense it’s a resounding ache in the far reaches of your body. “Oh, fuck, Spencer.”

Spencer shivers. He loves when you make it personal, when you say his name like that and it becomes clear this isn’t just about the physical.

“My girl. Just like that. Doing so well, baby, just like that.”

Each pass of your hips has you whining. Your lips skim over his neck, not cognizant enough to actually kiss—only to know that you want the contact. 

“Please can I go faster?”

Spencer almost doesn’t realize you’re speaking to him he’s so lost in pleasure. The idea of faster is as compelling as it is troublesome. Spencer doesn’t know if he can’t take faster, not when he has you like this, but he certainly wants to find out. 

“Yeah, lovely. Do whatever feels good.”

You readjust and begin to pick up the pace, stumbling over a few false starts as it’s clearly more sensation than you’d been prepared for. 

Spencer, on the other hand, has his eyes screwed shut tight, and is attempting to draw a two-dimensional Császár polyhedron on your back, but he loses his place with every twitch of your hips, so eventually he decides to trace imperfect Mandelbrots down your spine—anything to avoid thinking about how the pH of your body interacts with sweet vanilla perfume to create a scent so deeply intoxicating he’d leave his entire life behind just to trail after it, or how you fucking feel against him, on top of him, around him, how miraculous it is that you keep letting him touch you—

“Oh—” you whine quietly, a strangled sort of noise that has his heart skipping. Your hand tangles desperately in his hair as you rock your hips faster and faster and he lets out a tortured groan. “Spencer, oh my fucking god.”

“I know, baby,” he manages, endeared by the fact that you feel so good you have to share it with him. Even now you’re trying to explain it because you want him to be part of it—as if he doesn’t know exactly what you’re feeling already. “That feels good, huh?”

“Mm—f—eels—” you cut yourself off with a cry into the crook of his neck, and he holds the back of your head, vision greying as he stares unseeing at the ceiling because if he looks down this’ll be over too soon. 

“You’re so good,” he breathes, “you’re perfect.”He hears you gasp at the same time as your rhythm falters, and presses a kiss somewhere indiscriminately on your head. “Gonna cum?” He murmurs in your ear, and you nod desperately, rutting against him hopelessly as your thighs tremble from exertion. 

Even the smallest drop-off in friction has his head spinning like he stood up too quickly, so he gives himself enough leverage to start fucking you. You cry out and shift your weight like you’re going to try and evade the feeling—self-sabotage, you always do this—and he again has to hold your hips in an iron vice, just to force you to feel it. 

“You’re okay, I’m gonna get you there.”

“Fuck!” You very nearly yell, still trying to wriggle away up until the very last second like the tide going out before the tsunami comes. When you do cum, your demeanor instantly changes—you get heavy and clingy and whiny as you rock back and forth through your orgasm. 

“Good girl,” Spencer murmurs, being careful in the way he continues to fuck you until he reaches his peak as well, not long after. You shudder, and Spencer feels the way your entire body tenses the way it sometimes does after a particularly strong orgasm, and he fights his way out of the brain fog to rub your back with the skimming tips of his fingers. “Shh. You’re okay. Relax, baby.”

And you do, unwound by the dance of his hand and with a few shallow breaths that gradually deepen, until you’re once more slack on top of him. 

“You’re incredible,” he exhales, with his lips pressed to your hairline. 

So clearly overwhelmed, the only response you can muster is a soft squeak. Spencer laughs fondly, still mapping the soft curve of your back. He feels the way you’re still attempting to train your breathing and kisses your hair again. “What do you need, angel?”

“I’m s’posed to be taking care of you,” you slur. Spencer chuckles again and his brow knits. 

“According to who?”

“According to… I was on top…”

“Yeah. You did all the hard stuff. Your legs are shaking.”

You whine softly. “No they’re not.”

His hand slides down to your thigh, and he rubs the trembling muscles. 

“No? No Bambi legs for me this time?”

You squeeze them around his waist like you could shrink away from his touch. “Spence…”

“I’m teasing you, honey,” he murmurs, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “You’re cute.”

“Hm.”

“Look at me,” he murmurs, angling his head expectantly as you slowly raise yours. The look on your face is so sweet—eyes half lidded, lips swollen and much higher in color than usual. Your cheek is warm to the touch. His heart flutters like it did on your first date, and the first time he kissed you, and the first time you fell asleep on his shoulder. This view will never get old. “Wow. Look at you, beautiful girl. Can I have a kiss?”

And you grant him his wish, with a long, soft kiss that’s worth every second of that burning feeling in his lungs, every time. 

Eventually you huff out the remainder of your air against his well-kissed lips and your head flops to his chest. 

“I’m sleepy.”

“So go to sleep,” he murmurs, so warm from your kiss he feels nothing could be wrong in the world at this moment. 

“I can’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“’Cause you just got home ’nd I missed you and I wanna spend time with you.”

“We have three days to spend together. If you go to sleep now, we’ll actually get more time together tomorrow.”

“But it’s more about, like, how it feels—how much time it feels like we spend together right when you get home, and if I go to sleep now, it’s gonna feel like less time, and—basically you’re just not understanding my math.”

“What math?” He laughs, continuing to rub your legs all the way up to your hips, at which point you hiss and buck—a very visceral feeling when he’s still inside of you. “What? What hurts?”

“You tried to fucking tear my hip flexors from my body, is what hurts,” you grumble. 

“Tender?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m really sorry, angel. Tylenol?”

“Mm-mm. Can you kiss me better?” Sleep stains your voice. Spencer smiles to himself. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Lie down.”

Again you whine as you slip off of him, landing heavily on your back. He sits up, watches with so much affection the way you squeeze your thighs together and arch ever so slightly against the empty feeling. 

“Spencer?” You whisper as he cups the top of your knees. 

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

He pushes your legs apart gently so he can settle in between them and kisses you again. “I love you. So much.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

He presses a kiss to your head, down your neck, taking the scenic route to your hip bones, but you don’t seem to mind. 

The feeling of his lips gentle on the tender flesh has you humming softly, eyes fluttering shut as he showers you with gentle kisses. His traces every place his fingers had pressed earlier—feels the way you relax further underneath him. Nobody’s ever let him in this deeply before, but you trust him with everything you have; your body, your soul, in life or death, awake and in sleep. He’ll never take that for granted. He will never pass on an opportunity like this, to be the one who takes care of you, who puts you back together, as long as you’ll let him. 

Still dancing the line of consciousness, you part your legs, the slow drag of your bare thigh like a jumper cable to his heart. Fingertips trace desirous paths up your inner thigh and back down again. He recognizes this invitation for what it is, and he knows exactly how to give you what you want, but he asks first anyway. 

“Was that on purpose?”

“I d’know what you mean. I’m so sleepy,” you slur, and he believes the second half of your statement to be fact. 

Spencer pushes your thigh a little higher, and you’re completely pliable for him, completely gorgeous. As soon as he skims your thigh with a barely-there kiss, exactly the way you like, you’re lacing a hand in his hair. 

“Please, Spence…” you murmur, and he can’t argue with that. He especially can’t argue when you widen your legs just that slightest bit more, and your arousal is opalescent between your legs. 

He hums, trailing more kisses up until he’s setting the softest one yet against your clit. “Beautiful girl…”

The following gasp is so tiny he could’ve missed it if he wasn’t so attuned to your noises—and then he gets lost in you, making sure to keep his ministrations light as you already came twice recently and are sure to be sensitive. He doesn’t want to wake you from whatever twilight half-slumber trance you’re in, either, sensing that if he does you’ll fight all over again to stay up.

And admittedly, he adores being trusted to take care of you like this.

Your back arches as much as you’re capable of in this state, and he can’t help the way he just barely suctions onto you at that moment, coaxing a sighing moan so sweet and vulnerable and open it gives him chills. Fuck. He really wants to make you cum. But instead he practices patience, tracing you with the tip of his tongue, pressing gentle kisses everywhere you need them—he draws it out. For he doesn’t know how long. 

The first time you get close, your hips begin to roll, and you spout little ah’s, but he talks you back down again, laughing lightly at your angelic cooing, your little sounds of sleepy pleasure. Even now you’re so responsive, moving against his mouth as he slips a finger into your soaked entrance, fucks you for a moment, and then retreats. Maybe he’s being unfair, but you don’t seem to mind. 

In fact, you’re slipping in and out of sleep as he devours you for what feels like hours, one hand pressed lovingly to your stomach, stroking the soft skin there. Spencer’s never had this long to explore you with his mouth and he takes full advantage of every moment, but he keeps all his kisses and licks and touches gentle and reverent and so loving. 

You don’t know how long it’s been, or how many times he’s made you cum when he finally retreats—you half-wake just as he’s finishing cleaning you up. Soon he tosses the towel aside and presses feather-light kisses to each of your cheeks, tear-stained and warm with pleasure. You feel completely drained and completely loved. 

“Hi, sleeping beauty,” he murmurs, climbing into bed with you, at some point having gotten dressed. 

You manage an embarrassed little laugh. More tears crawl down your cheeks as you roll to your side. Spencer brushes them away and pulls you into him, slinging your thigh over his waist. He chuckles. 

“Shaky?”

“Stop,” you whine, embarrassed by his teasing, and hide your face against his chest. “That’s not my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault. It’s sweet,” he insists as he rubs your back. And then, a moment later, “So—do you think we’ve spent enough time together for tonight?”

“No.”

He sighs good-naturedly. 

“You’re gonna wear me out, you know that?”

“’F you… can’t handle the heat… get outta the kitchen.”

When he next speaks you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Go to sleep, Bambi. Let’s see if you can walk in the morning.”

[moechies]

kinktober ⋆౨ৎ entry #2 ; size kink w shidou ryuusei .ᐟ

dear diary ♡,

ugh! ryuusei is so crude ! :( i want to act like a hate it, but he always catches on when i get nervous or shy at his antics and it’s soooo embarrassing! he knows me in and out (literally) especially when we’re havin’ sex. he’s running his mouth, always making fun of how wet aroused i get and how my ‘cunt clenches around nothing like a slut?!’ he doesn’t have to say it out loud… i can’t help but get so shy around him — my own boyfriend! is that so bad!? i think his physique also makes me nervous… >< ryuusei is so tall and so beefy ♡ he always catches me staring! i think he could launch me across the room if he wanted to! i better be careful…

“look at how small this pussy is compared to my dick. are ya gonna cry when i fuck this pretty pussy?” shidou hums, pressing his tip up against your chubby folds, and then comparing his cock against your tummy. a low whistle leaves his lips, accompanied by a cocky chuckle, watching the bulbous heap of his tip nudge against your belly button.

“s—shut up ryuu! y’r n-not that big..” you bite, words faltering when you realize the awfully dumb and bold statement that had unconsciously fallen from your lips. he quirks his head with a grin — it’s hilarious to hear you say that from below him, his body hovering over the entirety of yours and his hand damn near the size of your womb.

“that’s funny.” he gloats, sharp canines making an appearance when he flashes a smile. "you really think so?" his cock slips against your folds, folded upwards as he leans down besides you, hot breath felt in between the soft concave of your collar and jaw. you twitch when he gives your neck a soft nip, hot breath tickling the peachy thin hairs on the shell of your ear.

“y’r g’na see just how big i am when i fuck this pussy till it tears.”

he whispers into the shell of your ear, giving your neck another soft nip accompanied by a nibble from his sharp canines.

“go away! y’b—big fat brute.” you hiss weakly, ignoring the way your cunt clenches around nothing at his crude words. you look away, purposefully ignoring the heavy gaze set on your face to avoid his confrontation — putting up your strongest facade to avoid his humiliation. “look at me.” he growls, fingers pressed into your jaw to turn you to him.

you whine, small, shaky hands pushing weakly at his heavy chest, his skin soft and glowy to the touch after hours of being drenched in sweat. “what, y’scared?” he quips, laying his body down onto yours, enveloping you into his warmth.

he reaches his hand below to take yours into his, pressing a thumb into the apple of your palm before giving it a damp kiss. “give ryu a kiss.” shidou presses his lips onto yours at the same time his fat tip nudges in between your folds, prodding against the very hole he needs to be in -- you need him to be in. you feel his warm pre leaking into your slit, dirtying your slit.

he’s amused at the way you whine into his mouth, trying so hard to wriggle away under his heavy weight and push him away again — but he knows how much you love this. how much you love the power he holds over you, and how easily he can have you under him with a sleazy kiss and a few rubs to your little pussy. “don’t be scared, doll.” he mumbles against your lips.

you hate the way he chuckles when you moan into his mouth, your nails digging into his bicep when he attempts to shove his way in. “ryuusei,” you cry, throwing your head bad when you feel the bridge of his cock head fully enter your swollen pussy — your warm folds enveloping him so perfectly, yet wanting to resist him at the same time -- it makes him dizzy. “big, t—too big, help—“

“but y’r takin’ me so perfect. it can't be too big, sweet thing.” shidou thrusts gently, and oh -- you feel every single fucking inch of him. the way his slit drags against your velvety walls, and the scattered veins decorated on the first mere inches of his shaft. every single hump of his prettily decorated cock -- you feel everything.

“don’t,” you cry, feeling the tip of his cock fucking against your walls ever-so slowly. “i’ll cum!”

“on my fuckin’ tip?” he lets out a boasty laugh, pace quickening despite the shaft of his cock you’ve yet to take. “you’re not good at this, doll.”

“no,” you mewl, breaths heavy as you pant. his hand reaches under your tank top, pulling at your pert nipple — sucking it though your thin shirt. his saliva coats the fabric, seeping through to your areola as you twitch incessantly. "wan' cum, cum--"

"stupid, stupid girl. y'braindead on my fuckin' tip? d'ya even have anythin' going on inside that little head of yours?"

"ryuu, ryuu--"

"yeah," he drags out, mumbling against your tit before giving it a mean nip. he urges his hips further against yours, pushing in more cock than you had been anticipating and it makes you scream--

"ryuu--! f-full, s'full, please,"

he knows how hard this is on his sweet girl -- way to much for her and her pliant little body to bare. that's what makes this so fun, so damn great.

"hey . . this little body was made f’me, ‘s i’m gonna need you to act like it ‘nd take it, c'mon. endure it, my doll." he growls, huge arms wrapping under and around yours, pinning you tight against the soft mattress. he envelops your body with a swift grasp, completely hidden under his grasp as if he were protecting you from everything else that has ever existed ever -- like a maternal bear would her cub. you yelp, throwing your head back under his hold as he presses further into your pussy mercilessly, tuning out your cries and whines for him to slow. "fuckin' mine. mine, all mine."

"n'more!" you cry out in stutters, feeling his plump, damp balls press against your ass, cunt stretched beyond belief with little thought left in your head. your folds are spread impossibly wide, struggling to endure all of the man as you warm him. "fuck, shit. w'na stay with my girls forever. just like this." he hisses, pressing a fervor kiss to your lips. he cracks an eye open, met with your low-lidded ones, pupils heavily dilated.

your drowning in each other's sweat, your entire bodies clad against one another. it's so damn hot you might fucking explode -- your remnants would consist of a million beating hearts dedicated to your boyfriend--

"'m the only one that'll ever make you feel like this. don't forget that, dumb fuckin' girl."

[stargirlrchive]

simon’s work wife

one — two — three — four

cw: simon riley x fem reader, smut no plot like just literal sex

you would come to learn that simon was a very dedicated lover. he was—to put it simply—starved, and it appeared that you were the meal.

your mind had turned into a cloudy mess of desire as his thick, calloused finger ripped the flimsy elastic of your underwear. his hands moving to grip the soft part of your thighs to spread you open for him.

you had no time to be embarrassed at being so exposed because he was parting your lips and then nosing at your clit.

your back arched almost instantly, his tongue laying flat against your puffy clit and flicking over and over again. lips attaching to the soft nub to suck.

your hands didn’t know what to do, he was sucking the air right out of you. soft cries of pleasure tumbling out of your mouth as he worked you open.

“taste ev’n better than i imagined, sweetheart.”

your fingers moved to palm at you breast, your nipples pebbled and aching at all the pleasure he was giving you.

your body tensed beneath him as one of his thick, meaty fingers circled your entrance, gently dipping in the tip before pulling out, “relax f’r me, baby. gotta get ya’ ready f’r my cock.”

you nodded absentmindedly, only being able to focus on his mouth still tonguing at your clit and his finger dipping inside of you.

it was all too much yet not enough.

your face burned at the ease in which his finger entered you, a soft slick sound as he pumped into you steadily. he hummed softly, pulling away from your clit to watch as his finger disappeared inside of you, “ya’ always get this wet, doll?”

he didn’t give you time to respond, because soon after he was sinking a second finger into you. your breath getting caught in your throat at the stretch. his fingers pumping and curling, in and out—while he used his thumb to press against your clit.

his body slowly began to move upwards, pressing kisses as he went. from your thighs, to your stomach, up your breast—to which he gave special attention to. sucking your nipple into his mouth, fingers pumping into you rhythmically. then up your neck, finally to your mouth.

it was messy, one of his hands tangling in your hair to tilt your head back, neck straining as his mouth crashed into yours.

he was trying to devour you, tongue pushing into your mouth, teeth scraping against your lip and swallowing down every little noise of pleasure that left your mouth.

your pussy pulsed around his fingers, heating coiling low in your belly as his kiss pushed you over. he swallowed down your warbled moan of his name as he pumped into you over and over again.

your body grew pliant beneath his, limbs loosened and mind foggy as he nipped at your throat. “doin’ okay?”

you nodded lazily, fingers moving down to trail over his bare chest. your hand dipped down to the elastic of his sweat pants and he grunted, catching your wrist and cradling it to his chest. “use your words, doll.”

you whined softly, and a soft noise of amusement left simon’s mouth, “i’m more than okay. feel great.”

he huffed a laugh and brought your hand up so he could kiss your wrist, “ya’ don’t know how bad i’ve been wanting you like this.”

your hips tilted up, his cock pressing against your belly as your lips quirked up softly, “i have a guess.”

simon grunted lowly, pressing his hips down against you, nose trailing up your throat as he mumbled, “this what you wanted, hm?”

he hips rocked forward, rubbing right against your sensitive clit as you parted your legs further for him, “j’st needed someone to wife ya’ up, huh?”

your pussy pulsed at his words, fingers clawing into his back, desperately trying to get him closer to you. “such a sweet little thing, m’surprised ya’ weren’t already snatched up ‘nd filled.”

a noise of protest left your mouth as his hips lifted from yours, it was only for a second, just enough time for simon to pull his sweats down for his cock to slip out.

a heavy hand pulled one of your legs up, pressing your knee to your chest and your eyes nearly rolled back as simon spit onto your cunt. his other hand wrapped around the base of his cock as he pushed between your folds.

he used your slick and his spit to coat his cock, thrusting the tip against your clit before dragging his length back down to your entrance.

you couldn’t breathe, not as you felt the weight of his cock on you. even less as the head dipped into your warm pussy for the first time, “but don’t ya’ worry, sweetheart. g’nna fill ya’ up s’good.”

he grunted out a low ‘fuck’ as his cock finally pushed into you. your pussy was warm and snug, swallowing him down eagerly as you mewled beneath him.

it burned, he was big—you really shouldn’t have been so surprised that it felt like he was splitting you open. “relax, baby. doin’ so good.”

two of his fingers dipped between the both of you so he could tease at your puffy clit as he delivered short thrust into you. every inch that slid into you went in easier.

an almost feral smile gracing simon’s lips when he sunk into you completely. his pelvis pressed into yours, balls snuggly resting against your ass.

“fuck, takin’ it so well, sweet girl.”

you were a mess before he even began plowing into you. thick cock spearing you open again and again. his hands greedily cupping your breast, your hips—sometimes even pressing into your belly to make you feel even fuller.

desperate little noises left your mouth as he fucked into you deep and desperate. barely pulling his cock out before he’s sinking into you again—as if he can’t stand not being inside you.

grunts left simon’s mouth, rough little noises that had your pussy pulsing around his length. “ya’ g’nna let me cum inside ya’, baby? g’nna take it like a good girl?”

your nails dug into his back as he finally lowered your leg down, spreading your thighs apart to thrust deeper, his tip desperately knocking against the soft spot inside you that made you go dizzy. “yes—please!”

a thick hand wrapped around your throat, your eyes snapped open to look up at him and the look in simon’s eyes had your cunt tightening around him, “yeah, baby? should i turn my missus into a momma?”

a desperate noise left your mouth at his words, the coil that had tightened in your belly snapped as your body shook with your orgasm.

simon delivered a few shallow thrust into you before he was groaning roughly, warmth spread throughout your body as his cum filled your messy cunt.

simon pressed into you, his body weighing yours down but you felt too good to care. his nose trailing down your throat as his rough fingers massaged your aching muscles. soft praises and gentle touches were the last thing you had expected from your lieutenant, but he was as devoted to you as he was to the field.

“such a good little wife.”

[sttoru]

𝝑𝑒 synopsis. after being married to satoru for two years, you still giggle and (secretly but not so secretly) fangirl about him whenever given the chance. your husband absolutely loves indulging you.

tags. husband!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw, tiny bits of angst. tooth rotting fluff yeah. reader gets called ‘princess, baby’. inspired by this ask.

“and and and, his smile ‘s just so beautiful,” you sigh dreamily, resting your head on satoru’s lap. you’re both enjoying the cozy night in your shared apartment. with no one bothering you—with no regards for the world that’s continuing its cycle outside.

satoru chuckles as he pats your head slowly, taking his time to appreciate every feature of yours. from your pink-ish lips to your pretty eyes. he’s so in love with the creation god has gifted him. he nods attentively, “yeah? what else?”

you giggle as he indulges you. it’s a habit of yours, to fangirl over your husband like you’re not literally his wife. satoru finds it absolutely adorable. plus, it boosts his ego. in a very good way.

“aaaand, he’s caring. that’s the one thing i love most about him,” you continue to ramble about your little ‘crush’ on that so-called mysterious white-haired sorcerer. satoru wishes he could capture this moment and keep repeating it over and over in his head.

the way you talk about your crush - him - is filling his stomach with butterflies. the tall man can’t deny the faint blush on his cheeks and the fuzzy feeling in his chest. you keep getting cuter and cuter the more time passes.

when he thinks you’ve reached a state of perfection in his eyes, you once again prove him wrong and go beyond that. “caring, hm? he must treat my princess real good then,” satoru hums and continues petting your head. his other hand rubs your stomach—fingers creeping under the material of your nightgown.

“he does,” you nod in agreement, “he treats me so well. i don’t know how i got so lucky to have met him.” you squirm a little as you feel satoru’s slender fingers graze your midriff, going back down to your belly and then back up your chest again. his touch is so intimate and loving. you’re spoiled. spoiled rotten by his affection.

satoru sighs. his white lashes flutter shut for a second. hearing you say such stuff makes him want to check if it’s reality he’s in. if it isn’t another too-good-to-be-true dream of his. no one had loved him as much as you did.

it feels good to know that he’s wanted. needed.

“no, i think he is the lucky one,” satoru continues. his hand petting your head stops and he moves it to rub your cheek tenderly. he leans his head down, the tips of your noses touching. he whispers, “having a pretty girl like you love him so dearly… yeah, he’s won the lottery.”

your heart skips a beat. satoru’s words leave you speechless. you don’t know if you can keep up the little silly act anymore. his flirting, the teasing and the genuineness behind his words—it’s all too much.

you grab the back of his head and push his lips down against yours. satoru’s breath hitches for a second before he gives in to you. he visibly melts, eyes closing and hands tightening their grip around your body.

“mmh,” satoru lets out a content moan. he loves you. he’s glad he’s met you and he’s glad he made you his wife two years back. you’re the only one for him. death won’t do you apart—no—he promised you on your wedding day that it wouldn’t.

you kiss him like it’s your last kiss on earth. the spark between you is still as warm and strong as it was when you met. the people who’ve warned you about the ‘honeymoon phase’ are clearly all wrong. they aren’t aware of the strength your bond with satoru has. you’re inseparable.

“i love you,” you sigh against satoru’s glossy lips and he deepens the kiss after that.

somebody loves him. somebody cares for him. that’s all he needs in life. his life is complete with you in it. he smiles against your lips and says the three words back, with more passion than ever before, “i love you too, my angel.”

nothing will ever separate you. not fate. not anyone.

[flwrkid14]

Everyone Knows They’re Dating… Except Tim and Danny

To literally everyone, Tim and Danny are a couple. They’re so obvious about it, it’s almost annoying. Tim goes out of his way to prioritize Danny over anyone else—he’ll cancel plans, rearrange his schedule, and bend over backward to make sure Danny’s happy. Need coffee at 3 a.m.? Tim’s already out the door. A custom gadget? It’s in Danny’s hands before he even asks.

And Danny? Danny dotes on Tim in a way that’s almost overprotective. He ensures Tim eats, sleeps, and doesn’t completely drown himself in work. He’s always there, watching out for him, ready to step in if Tim ever needs help. And god help anyone who says a single bad word about Tim because Danny will defend him with a ferocity that borders on terrifying.

They live together. They cuddle to sleep. They share a bed. They have dinners together like it’s some weekly tradition. They wear each other’s clothes so often no one can tell whose hoodie is whose anymore. Sometimes they even plan matching outfits when they go out. Their “hangouts” are way too romantic and way too specific to not count as dates.

It’s obvious to everyone that Tim and Danny are dating. Everyone… except Tim and Danny.

The breaking point happens when Danny starts spending time with a new friend. Tim doesn’t even notice at first, but slowly, irritation starts bubbling under the surface. Why does Danny even need new friends? Doesn’t he already have Tim? And then the irritation morphs into a tight knot in his chest every time Danny talks about hanging out with this friend.

At first, Tim tells himself he’s just being logical—Danny is busy enough as it is, why stretch himself thinner? But when Danny cancels one of their movie nights to go out with this new friend, Tim spirals. He’s glued to his laptop but hasn’t typed anything in over an hour, too consumed with thoughts like: Is Danny replacing me? Am I not enough for him? Does he want someone else to be his best friend now?

He’s never been good at handling emotions, so naturally, he decides the best course of action is to bottle it all up and ignore it. That is until Steph shows up and immediately clocks that something’s wrong.

“What’s with the grumpy face?” she asks, slumping onto his couch.

“I’m not grumpy,” Tim lies, glaring at his laptop like it’s offended him personally.

Steph raises an eyebrow. “Right. So why are you moping like someone kicked your dog?”

“I’m not moping,” he mutters, crossing his arms.

Steph stares at him for a long moment, her eyes narrowing as she pieces it together. She knows Danny’s out with some new friend, and now she’s looking at Tim, who’s pacing the apartment like a caged animal, glaring at his phone every few seconds. Her expression shifts—realization dawning, then sharp focus. “Oh my god, Tim. You’re jealous.”

Tim freezes. “What? No, I’m not. That’s ridiculous.”

Steph crosses her arms, her gaze locked on Tim as if he’s the most complicated puzzle she’s ever tried to solve. “Okay, let’s break this down,” she starts, her tone deliberate. “You’re upset that Danny’s out with someone else. You’re overthinking it, spiraling about whether or not you’re enough, and now you’re convinced you’ve somehow ruined everything… Does that sound like just ‘friend’ feelings to you?”

Tim freezes mid-pace, the words hitting him like a bucket of cold water. “I—what?”

Steph raises an eyebrow. “Tim. You’re jealous.”

“I’m not—” Tim begins, but then stops, the denial catching in his throat. His brain scrambles to process her words, but the sinking feeling in his chest refuses to let him dismiss it. The pieces fall into place, one by one, each memory sharper than the last: the way his heart always lifts when Danny smiles, the quiet warmth of falling asleep next to him, the ache in his chest at the thought of Danny choosing someone else.

“Oh no,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “Oh my god. I’m jealous because—because I’m—”

Steph sighs, rubbing her temples. “You’re jealous because you’re in love with Danny.”

Tim’s knees almost give out as the realization settles in. “I’m the worst friend in the world,” he blurts, his voice breaking. Tears spring to his eyes as he starts pacing again, his hands flying up in a panicked gesture. “I have no right to feel this way! He’s my best friend—he deserves someone better, someone who won’t ruin his life with… with whatever this is!”

Steph groans, dragging a hand down her face. “Tim, for the love of—you're already dating.”

He stops dead in his tracks, blinking at her like she’s just spoken another language. “What?”

“Seriously? You’re basically married,” Steph says, throwing her hands up. “He practically lives here, you do everything together, and you’re constantly rearranging your life for him. What part of that screams just friends to you?”

Tim’s mouth opens, then closes, his mind spinning as he replays every moment with Danny through a new lens. The quiet mornings when they share coffee in companionable silence. The way Danny always notices when he’s stressed and pulls him into a hug without a word. How being with Danny feels like breathing—natural, essential, like coming home.

And it all clicks.

Oh. Oh no. He’s in love with Danny.

The realization is overwhelming, a mix of panic and joy and sheer terror. But beneath all that, there’s something else—a quiet certainty. He doesn’t just love Danny; he’s in love with him, and he doesn’t want to waste another second pretending otherwise.

Tim decides, then and there, that he has to confess. Because if there’s even the slightest chance that Danny feels the same, he’s not going to let it slip through his fingers. And if he doesn’t… well, there’s always Antarctica.

When Tim finally confesses, he pours his heart out in a way that’s so painfully earnest it makes Danny laugh.

“Tim,” Danny says, tears of laughter in his eyes, “I thought we were already dating.”

Tim blinks. “What?”

Danny grins. “Yeah, I kind of assumed we were. I mean, we live together. We share a bed. We cuddle. We’ve been wearing matching outfits for months, dude.”

“Oh.” Tim feels his face heat up.

Danny laughs again, pulling Tim into a hug. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

Tim buries his face in Danny’s shoulder, equal parts mortified and relieved. But hey, at least now they’re officially dating—or, well, aware of it.

Steph hears the whole story later and immediately texts them both: “Congrats on being the last ones to figure it out. True geniuses at work.”

[fxstpace]

“wonwoo,” you whisper, nudging his ankle with a sock-clad foot. “wonwoo, wake up.”

he grunts and mumbles something unintelligible, before his lips part and he lets out a soft snore. his hair is a mess—probably because he never seems to stay still when he’s asleep. you reach out and gently trail a finger down the bridge of his nose.

“wonwoo,” you try again. he shivers involuntarily. “baby, darling, light of my life. sugarplum. rubber duck. love boat.”

“i’m going to break up with you if you call me that again,” your boyfriend finally says, opening his eyes and squinting at you. you grin. he sighs, though it’s not a weary sound. more fond than anything else. loving, in the way only jeon wonwoo is. “what do you want?”

you lean over him, elbow brushing over his chest, and try to switch on the lamp placed on the bedside table. fumbling for the switch, you flick it on and blink when the room floods with soft amber light. you kick the duvet off of wonwoo’s legs, ignoring his startled huff.

moving back, you place both arms on either side of wonwoo’s head and hook a leg over his waist. his hands come up to grip your sides. despite his sleepiness, he smiles up at you—a slow, lazy one, the kind he gives you when he’s happy and content. it brings a smile to your own face.

“i want ramen,” you say in response to his question. “i’m really hungry.”

“really?” 

“really.” you nod.

his thumb rubs circles on the part of your hip where your shirt is ridden up. “and you couldn’t make it yourself?”

“you make ramen better than i do.”

“it’s literally three steps,” wonwoo says, amused. “it’s packaged food. it tastes the same regardless of who makes it.”

“it tastes different,” you insist. “please?” 

he laughs, chest rising with the movement. “okay, okay. if you say so.”

“thank you.” you bend down and kiss the corner of his mouth. “you’re the best. i’m the luckiest person alive, i swear.”

“flattery gets you nowhere,” wonwoo says, but when you clamber off the bed, he follows you to the kitchen after grabbing his glasses.

and there’s something so tender about this, so fragile, a delicate sort of thing that you will cherish and protect with your life—something special about cooking and eating ramen at midnight, specifically with him. 

it tastes different.

author’s note — wrote this because i was craving instant noodles last night at 2 am. unfortunately i did not have a jeon wonwoo to cook them for me & i didn’t have any ramen left at home 😔

[holybibly]

Some unholy thoughts from me, bunnies.

Let's talk about Yunho and size training.

Yunho has a big and thick dick, and when we say big, we mean huge. And there is absolutely no way you can get his whole massive length inside you at once. But this is exactly the thing that turns him on the most about you: how small and tight your pussy is.

So imagine: Yunho is sitting on the edge of a big bed, and you are sitting on his lap with your back pressed against his broad chest. He is behind you, tall, sexy, and absolutely hot, and you are literally melting away in his arms. Of course, there is a huge mirror in front of the bed, and Yunho can see how half of his dick is already inside you while you are desperately trying to sit on the rest of his hard and wet length. To help you relax, he starts playing with your pussy - slowly rubbing your clit, sliding his fingers between your wet, sensitive folds, and circling the edge of your leaking hole with his finger pad where he enters.

He even spreads your labia open with his fingers so that you can see just how well his thick cock is going to stretch your pussy.

"Shhh, baby, just a little more. When I'm all the way inside of you, you'll have the feeling of me here." To emphasise the meaning of his words, his other hand presses against your stomach. "As soon as you get used to me, my cock will be the only thing that will be able to fill and satisfy your needy cunt, my love."

From what he has told you, more and more cum is coming out of your pussy and dripping down onto the part of his dick that is not yet inside you. It literally drives him crazy, especially when he sees it in the reflection of the mirror.

He lifts his hips a little bit and pushes his cock deeper and deeper into your hole until you are sitting on top of him completely. You would never have thought that you would be on top of the cute and hot librarian from your university at the end of the day. Yunho removes his hand from your belly, only to put his long, slender fingers into your mouth, and he begins to fuck you with them as he slowly pushes himself into your cunt.

"You see, you're perfect for me—a small and sweet sleeve for my cock. As soon as I saw you in the library, I knew right away that you were going to be such a beautiful doll for me. Your pussy is so tight, baby, so tight. You can't take all my cock yet, but that's no problem, right? You're going to train, sweetheart, until you can take me easily with just one thrust, and after that, I'm going to fuck you as I like and whenever I want. You won't need those cute little knickers any more with me. I can always hold your pussy in my hand, baby."