#is it bad i am just a little amused?
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epickiya722 · 5 months ago
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I forgotten about the "unstitching" Kenjaku thing until I started seeing folks now "stitching" up scenes of Geto.
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agueforts · 1 month ago
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me vs eternal grudges abt d20 captions
#aspen tag#maybe i just need to start watching the backlog without them on tbh#bc every time i run into a godawful error. of which there is no shortage of. i get so frustrated i literally have to stop watching#and like. idk. the new form system is. i know there's probably practical benefits#but from where i am sitting it's just like. additional barriers. more steps. more energy#i watched the new dirty laundry earlier today. with the lightning flashing effect at the beginning#and i checked the desc to see if there was any sort of warnings on the vid and there was nothing#and i thought about pulling up the feedback form to say smth and i just felt tired#and like. idk if any of u were ever active in the discord's caption corrections channel before it shut down#i joined the dropout server for it. i was in there exclusively for it. bc they got on my nerves so bad and i couldn't just do nothing#you could look up a particular line and find reports of it going back months and months#and i get that it was probably not easily indexable. but w/ the way older d20 episodes are#it was a fucking blessing to be able to submit them in bulk. instead of submitting a form for each one individually like u have to now#bc they're like. every 30 seconds. you're lucky if you go a couple minutes without smth almost unparseable#and when there'd be things like unlabeled flashing. or the gore bear. and u start writing up a message on the discord#it's like. there's a sense of people. someone's reading. someone's seeing it. even in just the reacts. y'know#and like. they have retroactive caption editors to clean up the old stuff as of 2024#but i'm four minutes into tuc episode 2. their third season ever. second episode. four minutes in#and zac says “it's a concentration” and the captions read “white's a constant station”#and i just ..... i guess i find it hard to feel like there's work being done. or like it's a priority#i. me personally. sent messages in the feedback channel about jokes in the captions on at least five or six seperate occasions#and i know there were other people speaking up about it too. over months and months#and the past... however many seasons it's been since burrow's end. have been a little better. but it's like....#it took so long to see any change. and those older ones are going to stay in until the retroactive editors catch all the way up#and people are still going to laugh at them and post about them and not think past their own amusement at them#and it's not that big of a deal but it does like. detract from how much i am able to enjoy d20#and like. i've been watching for three years. i never shut up about it. it's not like i don't like what they make#but between all of this and the way they handled palestine on the discord. i'm just finding it harder to trust in dropout#idk. idk. it's not a big thing. but it simmers in the back of my mind a lot. i don't rlly think it's going to change anytime soon#so i guess this is just putting it somewhere so it doesn't have to sit in my head all the time. um. yeah 👍
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An Imaginary Death-Battle.
Listen, I really don’t know how to set this up, because I don’t know if there’s a lot of crossover fandom between these two things, but after watching the last episodes of the first season of Trigun Stampede, I really want to set up some kind of fictional fandom-fight (a poll?  A bizarre fanfiction?) between Millions Knives and Horde Prime.   I mentioned them having similarities before, based on the Classic Trigun anime (from 1998) and the Trigun Maximum manga, and how there are even more similarities in Stampede (or “Tristamp” as the fandom seems to be nicknaming it).  When I was watching the last episodes of the first season, there is this sequence where (spoilers! spoilers! spoilers!) Knives takes his chain-knife tentacles and forces them into Vash’s spine in order to sequence him up with a dimensional Gate and to mind-rape him, manipulate his memories and generally turn him into a husk so he can “get his brother back.”   Trigun Stampede is a mature-rated anime, mostly for the copious amounts of blood, so the uncomfortable overtones are not even as subtle as Y-7 cartoon, She-Ra.  In any case, I said, out loud, while watching this, “He’s pulling a Horde Prime!”  The scene seriously reminded me of when, in Spop, Horde Prime reformatted Hordak.   There are differences between the characters, of course.  They have some wildly different motivations.  Horde Prime wants to take over the universe and make it all himself.  He exploits his constructed Little Brothers to this end.  Knives wants to wipe out Humanity in order to protect his fellow-construct Sisters and especially his own Little Brother (out of a twisted form of love, genuine attachment).  But... there are similarities.  They’re both cult-leaders / self-styled gods (Horde Prime to be worshipped, Knives just using the worship as a means to an end). They have a white / light theme.  There are angelic overtones (the “exalted brothers” who “civilize” or bring judgment upon the worlds), with the Plants (Knives’ and Vashs’ species) it’s fairly explicit. They’ll both show a lot of skin and tits out at times (in the manga version, Nightow draws some amazing man-tits), and, in the new series, mind-rape, some uncomfortable overtones (or more) with their “Brethern,” and tentacles with sharp things (needles for Prime, knives for Knives).   They could have some sort of epic wannabe space-god bad guy fight.  
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kiwipineappleparasol · 2 years ago
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I saw your tierlist! love the blackbright (Blackquill x Fulbright) appreciation!! your tierlist is actually pretty swag, but I do have like one question and that is how come you don't get junithena (Juniper x Athena?) just curious!
(also I feel like you probably know these ship names so it's weird for me to add the explanations but I'm doing it anyway just in case)
(I had typed out a whole response right. and Tumblr. and Tumblr Ate It. In front of my Eyes. It even Said so. so you are Spared with this being a bit more Brief since I have to retype Everything . as it did not have the Kindness to save it as a Draft ��)
(Also I do know These Ones at least but I do Appreciate it . I think ship names are a Little Goofy sounding though so I tend not to use them but I will take this into account in Tagging things 👍)
But Glad to hear my takes are Swag 😎 of course I gotta appreciate the Silly Guys (as I like refer to them . like it's my own Ship Name for these guys) I Mourn the Hilarious dynamic and Interesting things they Could've had if Dual Destinies didn't Hate Me In Particular. Curse You Dual Destinies. Guess I have to do it Myself 🙄 (Lighthearted Statement)
Anyways I realize that I put it Juniper x Athena in the wrong tier (Classic me mixing things up and only realizing it in Retrospect moment) I do Understand why people would ship them - on a surface level, y'know they're childhood friends, have Nicknames and all that Jazz. Not for me though. (So it would have been the Yellow Tier) But to Elaborate:
It's a disconnect I have with Juniper as a character -- it soured her dynamic with Athena for me. There's something about Juniper's portrayal, in conjunction with some of her actions that just rubbed me the wrong way. The vibes were off, shall we say. (I wrote a bit as to why but Uh….. It got sent to the Ether. Thanks Tumblr. I might go into it Another Day)
I guess I'll just say Turnabout Academy didn't really convince me that the characters were good friends -- even though that was The Point? I dunno (my Ability to word my points has Gone down the Drain 💀)
Point Being: Certain aspects of Juniper's whole deal impacted how I saw their dynamic Which didn't exactly lend itself to Romance in my eyes (Outside the fact Juniper is Canonically waxing Poetically about how Apollo makes her feel like she's Photosynthesizing Lmao) and I'm just not a Huge Juniper Fan as she exists in canon. Love her Design though 👍
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not-so-superheroine · 8 months ago
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ignore those kids. they don't know shit but want to be seen as "adult" and mature. but they don't understand what that means yet. they have an imaginary idea of what it means to be an adult. and they probably can't realistically imagine what being 30 above is like.
modern fandom, often attributed to Star Trek, was carried by adults. 30 and 40 something y/o housewives.
like, get over yourself. they were mailing the fic and art via zines to each other. and yes, many stayed in fandom. when i first joined the star trek fandom, i read fics from authors who watched the show as it came out (as adults even).
she died in the past few years, but there was a older woman here on tumblr who had OG trek lore and K/S "Spirk (nowadays)" fanfiction and fanart in fan-created paper zines.
And ho do they think is running the ao3 site? there is so much information to the contrary that the statement discredits the poster's opinion, that it's comically wrong and this person has little experience in this area. this is a kid who doesn't have the life experience nor education to know what they are talking about and wants to sound mature and "cool" because that's what matters to a lot of kids at 14. obviously not every kid. for example, kids coming through a fandom like star trek or doctor who or sherlock holmes start off in multi-generational spaces. interacts with adult fans regularly and it's considered cool to know the fandom history (bc it's literally world-altering in some cases. so ppl are super proud) in a fandom like 1D and 5SOS, it's gonna be mostly kids. so people there may get the idea it's a kid thing. or this weird 'puriteen' thing that's been happening that adults and kids shouldn't interact on the internet so fandom is for kids. therefore, adults should grow out of it. but that's also a thing that a person may think at 14 and is developmentally understandable. but still ill informed and annoying.
long post but i just block them. they will either learn, leave, or get eventually get themselves canceled when they hit 25.
Reblog for a larger sample size!
No "show results", if you're not a fanfic writer just be patient.
I saw a post about an anon saying it was embarrasing to have an ao3 account in your 30s (it's absolutely not), so I want to do a poll and see what the age range actually is.
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certifyedwhore · 5 months ago
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need a dom willing to break me even as i try to resist just refusing to back down til i inevitably give in to what i always really wanted in the first place
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cumikering · 6 months ago
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Ghost x plus-sized reader
2.1k | fluff, drink spiking Did you just call Simon weak? The rest of the 141 didn’t like that
“Can I carry you?”
At the pub table, you almost spat the last gulp of your drink at the question. You turned to the source of the gruff voice, meeting the man’s chest before craning your neck up to his eyes. He had to be over 6 ft tall.
You set your glass down. “I’m sorry?”
“My mates are betting I can’t get anyone to piggyback.”
“And you picked me?”
He nodded at your top. “Skulls are sort of my lucky charm.”
You scoffed, looking past him at the other ladies in the room. “Are you serious? There are plenty who weigh far less.”
His brow rose. “Are you calling me weak?”
You took in the width of his shoulders, how his loose black shirt couldn’t hide the thickness of his biceps – the left one inked. He was handsome, rugged with the scar across his cheek, his short blond hair and light scruff, but his stare and bluntness made him beyond intimidating.
How could you get out of this situation with the least fuss?
“N- no.”
His eyes softened a touch. “May I? Please?”
Playing along and getting it over with should be the safest bet. “Okay... But-”
He turned his back and squatted slightly. “Hop on.”
“Wait- are you sure you can?”
“Hop on,” he repeated.
At that point, it was not your fault anymore if he ended up embarrassing himself. So you gripped his hard shoulders and did as told before he swiftly hooked his large hands under your jean-clad thighs. He didn’t grunt or strain when he bounced you to position and straightened up. As if you weighed nothing, which was a feeling you never thought you’d experience.
You had to give it to him - his strength was impressive. You chuckled to yourself, seeing the top of everyone’s head amused you. Across the pub, the table of three men grinned at the massive stranger. The one with the mohawk was very much entertained as he gave him thumbs up.
It was then that Simon groaned, because his team was embarrassing the hell out of him. That, and he finally got to feel how soft and warm you were pressed up against him. A little creepy, but a man was allowed to fantasise about a birdie he’d been eyeing, right?
“That’s all, yeah? You just have to carry-”
He stepped towards the bar, making you latch onto him.
“Oh! Where are you going?
“I’m getting you a drink.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Please, I insist.” When he flagged the barman down, you held on tighter. “It’s the least I can offer for getting you involved.”
You laughed, your breath warm against his ear. “Are you going to set me down or am I having my drink on your back?”
“Don’t give me ideas.” He chuckled as he lowered you to your feet.
He leaned against the bar, arm folded as he stared at you on the stool, downing your shot before looking at yourself on your selfie cam.
“Would you… like something as well?” you asked after you tucked your phone back in your pocket.
He shook his head.
“Okay. Well, thanks for he drink. You could get back to your mates if you want.”
“I’m Simon,” he mustered instead.
“Hi.” You shifted in your seat. “Is something the matter?”
“No.” He frowned. “Why are you asking?”
“It’s just you’ve been staring, and there’s nothing on my face. I checked.”
Bloody hell, could he be any more awkward? He just wanted to ask why you were alone without being weird about it.
He looked away. “I didn’t mean to.” You make me stupid. It didn’t help that your previous drink had tinted your lips, looking even more kissable up close.
“I think your mates want you back though.” You chuckled, nodding at his table.
When he turned to them, they immediately busied themselves with their drinks, averting their gazes.
“They’re a nosy bunch, they are.” He inched closer to you. “The one in the beanie, that’s our captain. The other two are my sergeants.”
“You’re the lieutenant?”
He hummed. “The one with the mohawk is the prankster. He’s a bad influence. He’ll talk you into doing anything.”
“He put you up to this then?”
He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.
As if on cue, Soap looked up with an uncontained grin, only to look back down when he realised eyes were on him.
”Seems like he can’t wait to say hi.” He swiftly picked you up off your seat, bridal-style. “Is this enough to show you weigh nothin’?” he asked, fighting the urge to grab a handful of your soft thigh and waist.
“Oh- oh dear!” You laughed, arm wrapping around his neck, pretty fingers grasping his bicep. “Wait, wait, put me down!”
When you were back on your feet, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. “Sorry, I’m actually meeting someone. He’s almost here.”
So that was why you were alone. You were waiting for someone. Disappointment anchored at the bottom of his chest.
“Right. Okay.”
You smiled. “Thanks for the drink, Simon. I’ll see you around, yeah?”
He grunted and you headed to the end of the bar. He stood umoving for another second before retreating to his table like a kicked puppy.
“L.T., wha’ happened? She was havin’ so much fun!” Soap shot as soon as Simon took his seat next to him.
“She’s meetin’ someone,” he said quietly.
“Aww… Sorry, Ghost,” Gaz said. “But hey, she let you carry her!”
With your back to him, you looked at your phone whenever a man walked in.
Huh, first date?
You flagged down some other blond man who walked over to you with a smile. The barman took your order before you chatted with him with a polite smile, keeping a respectable distance between the two of you.
Simon was in no place to watch and invade your privacy – he really should look away. But what was it that simmered in him when the bloke scooted closer, his arm along the back of your chair?
He laughed, pointing at something on the TV. You looked up, and your hand deftly covered your drink, like an instinct.
He smirked. Smart girl.
“I know she’s with someone, but I can tell she likes you more,” Price said, and Simon finally tore his gaze away from you.
“Ye should fight ‘im, L.T. He dinnae stand a fuckin’ chance.”
“You can knock him out with a slap,” Gaz quipped.
He chuckled, blatantly looking over Price to you again. “Rather just look.” While it wasn’t for him, at least he could watch your pretty smile from here and quench his thirst a bit.
With the bloke’s drink in hand, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his other hand inching to your covered drink now. He tipped his glass over you, causing you to jump and grab serviettes to dab yourself with. Just as fast, his fisted hand opened over your drink before helping you.
“No fucking way,” Simon said out loud.
“What?” Gaz followed his line of sight.
He marched over, yanking the man around by the shoulder. “What the bloody hell did you just do?”
He stumbled off his seat from the force, making the lieutenant tower over him even more. “What? Who- Do you know him?” He turned to you.
His finger jabbed the man’s chest. “What. The. Fuck. Did you put in her drink?”
“Nothing! What are you accusing me of?”
Simon didn’t miss the crack in the man’s voice. He raised your drink to the man’s face, a tiny white tablet swaying at the bottom of the glass. “Empty your pockets.”
“Simon, what’s…”
“I’m not repeating myself.”
The man fished out his phone, wallet and keys with trembling hands.
“That’s not all.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing else, mate!” he said exasperatedly.
Simon’s patience ran dry. He patted his front pocket, hand bumping over something. “You need to see this,” he said quietly to you.
You hesitantly stuck your hand in the man’s left pocket, coming up with a bag of white tablets.
The man smacked the bag out of your hand. “You planted that, you slag!”
“If you didn’t do anything, drink it.” He spat, holding out your drink to him, now cloudy and fizzing.
He stared at the glass. “Fuck you,” he said, pushing it onto Simon’s chest before dashing out of the pub.
“Did he…”
“The fuck was that, Simon?” Price questioned from behind him.
“Fucking piece of shit spiked her drink.”
Price turned to you, a hand on your shoulder. “You got his name and number, love?”
“Yes.” You blinked. ”Yes, his number and dating profile.”
“I’m sending the coppas his way.” He picked up the evidence on the ground with a serviette. “Simon, get the details and make sure she gets home safe,” he said before approaching the barman.
You dried his ruined shirt with a wad of serviette. “I can’t even begin to thank you for your help, Simon. Really, thank you so much. I wouldn’t have-”
“You did good.” He squeezed your hand over his chest. “You covered your glass when you weren’t looking, but spilling his drink on you was something else.”
When you looked up at him with wide eyes, he dropped your hand.
“Would you like me to send you home?”
“I don’t want to trouble you. I don’t even live nearby.”
“Would you let me, if I want to?”
There was a pause before you smiled. “I think I’d like that, actually.”
When he grabbed his jacket from the table, Soap patted him on the back.
“Good catch, L.T. What a fuckin’ disgrace, the lad.”
“Have fun, Ghost,” Gaz teased.
Outside the pub where the streets were quieter, you forwarded the profile and chat screenshots of the man from your group chat to Simon.
“Can’t be too cautious. I’m not surprised if that’s not even his name honestly.” You shrugged, stuffing your phone back in your pocket. “I knew it was dodgy he insisted on meeting here when I said I’d rather somewhere in the middle, in broad daylight. That, and he was half an hour late too!”
It was disheartening to know this was the reality of dating, that all sorts of people lurked online, sometimes not with the best intentions. He’d show you his ID just to prove he wasn’t a creep, just someone smitten with a staring problem if any.
“If it was me, I’d have taken you anywhere you wanted.”
You chuckled.
“On my back too, if you prefer. I think you quite enjoyed that.”
“I did, actually,” you teased. “Is it a bad time to tell you I’m starving?”
“Yeah? That’s good news, because I’m always hungry. A kebab sounds about right at this hour.”
“Extra chips?”
“Extra chips,” he affirmed.
“You know what, I think this is my sign.” You pulled out your phone again, deleting an app. “Don’t think online dating was ever my thing.”
Is a stranger at a pub who shamelessly stares at you more your thing?
“Going out with someone who offers to carry me around is more like it.”
He bit back a smile. “So? Another ride on my back?”
You chuckled. “Next time,” you said, taking his arm instead.
As much as he enjoyed your touch, he couldn’t do with your fingers over his jacket. He needed to feel you. When he held your hand in his, you smiled up at him.
Simon had to thank his team for painstakingly convincing the stubborn lieutenant to approach the lady he’d been staring at. You didn’t have to know there was no bet, that asking to carry you was his own idea, an outrageous excuse to talk to you. But he wouldn’t complain if he ended up helping you, taking you for a little supper and even got to send you home.
“When’s next time?” he asked at your door, squeezing your hand.
You really shouldn’t have said it, because he was going to make sure there would be one. It had become a goal to show you how you deserved to be treated on a date.
“Is tomorrow too soon?”
“Right now isn’t even too soon.”
You laughed, pulling him down by the shoulder to meet your lips.
For @glitterypirateduck ‘s Ghost Challenge :D check out her page for fic recs!
Neighbour Ghost AU if he still had his family
Ghost's online fantasies came true Masterlist
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mysicklove · 1 year ago
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Summary: four-year-old Yuuji didnt mean to bring up Mr. Gojos crush on you, which of course, leads to Sukuna's harsh teasing.
cw: fem! reader (reader gets referred to as girl, pretty, and mommy), curse words, suggestive language, lion king spoilers (lol)
wc: 1.8k
a/n: i love making sukuna an absolute menace. poor yuuji tho. i think i am going to introduce gojo as a character, because I think it would be entertaining to piss Sukuna off lol.
big brother au masterlist
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“Su-kuna!”
“The fuck did you just call me?”
“Language,” You scold, not peering up from your book. Yuuji lays sprawled out on top of the both of you – his head in your lap, and practically purring in content when you gently pet the top of his head, while his little legs are on Sukuna’s thighs. 
Yuuji giggles into your shirt, shaking his head mischeviously. “Bad word Su-kuna!”
In an instant, you feel the toddler being ripped away from your lap with a tiny screech. The noise startles you, and you perk up from your book to look to where the boy has gone to. But, you aren't surprised to see him dangling in the air by his ankle – Sukuna’s long fingers skillfully hold onto Yuujis chubby little leg tight enough to not drop him, but gently enough to not cause physical harm. 
The boy doesn't seem to mind this position, being in it so frequently. Giggles and squeals leave the toddler's mouth as he stares at his now upside down brother. “You learning how to speak correctly?”
Yuuji nods his head, and his hands try to reach for Sukunas shirt. You rest your head on the man's shoulder, chuckling at the boy who was squirming in the air. “Uh-huh! F-Fush-i-guro taught me!” The dark haired toddlers last name was hard to pronounce, and it was amusing watching how Yuuji sounded it out.
Sukuna makes a loud groaning noise and you cover your mouth to hold back another laugh. “Of course you made friends with Gojo’s new brat. First he hits on my girl, and now his new kid is gonna manipulate this idiot.” He shakes Yuuji in the air to demonstrate his point, ignoring the squeals. 
You roll your eyes with a laugh. “Just because Megumi taught Yuuji how to say your name correctly, doesn't mean the kid is manipulating him. Y’know Yuuji struggles with words sometimes.” You watch as the child in turn shakes his head in defiance, letting out a “Nu-uh!” that only makes you smile. You turn back over to your lover, kissing his cheek. “Aw, does it make you sad that our little Yuuji is growing up?”
“No,” he quickly rebuttals, “Brat isnt growing up fast enough. I am mad that you're not denying the fact that the white haired idiot is flirting with you.” You know that wasn't the full truth, but alas, Sukuna was extremely stubborn and would never admit that he didn't want his brother to grow up. 
“Fush-i-guro says Mr. Gojo thinks you are pretty!” Yuuji announces, beaming at you from the air. You hold back a wince, smiling awkwardly back at the innocent words of the toddler. You watch as the boys cheeks begin to flush from all the blood rushing to his head, and immediately as if sensing it, Sukuna flips over the boy and instead places him on his lap, holding onto the back of his neck.
The action makes you smile, noticing the thumb that rubs gently at the pale skin. But when you glance at Sukuna, you notice quickly that he was anything but happy. Sukunas dark eyes twitches, flickering to you, and he speaks between his teeth. “Did he now? I may need to have a talk with Mr. Gojo next time I pick the little pest up. Does Fushiguro say anything else?”  
“Sukuna,” you whine, realising that the hold on the boys neck was not out of affection – instead was used to trap the boy while he was questioned. “Y’know Gojo is alot. He just wants to–”
“Fush-i-guro says Mr. Gojo has a crush on Y/N!”
“Yuuji!” 
“B-But, Y/N has a crush on brother,” the boy concludes, furrowing his eyebrows with a small nod. “Right, Ku–um–Su-kuna?” He turns up to his brother, doe eyed with his head slightly cocked to the side in question. 
In response, Sukuna ruffles his hair, nearly sending the boy landing on his back. But, instead he giggles at the rough treatment, shutting his eyes and trying his best to stay upward. “The biggest crush. You make sure to tell the little brat that. Or else Mr. Gojo is going to try take her away.”
Your eyes widen and you push at his broad shoulders. “Sukuna! You're going to get him all worked up!” You exclaim, knowing the very sensitive (regarding you or Sukuna) child very well by now. You turn to the boy, whose own eyes widen as he trying to process the words. “Gojo is not trying to take me away.”
“He is going to take her away if you don't do anything, and little Megumi is going to have a new mommy.” Sukuna was grinning at the boy, as if his brother's fearful expression pleased him. You knew that he was being purposely dramatic – Gojo wasn't even technically Megumi's father, if there was a chance that you guys would ever get together (near zero) you would definitely not be the boy's new mom. But alas, Sukuna continues on with his words. “Thats why whenever you see the two of them talking you have to make sure you to scream as loud as possible.”
You cover the mans mouth before you he can spewl any more nonsense, but it was too late. Yuuji was already tearing himself from the man's lap and into yours – his lips begin to wobble and his eyes flood with tears. “Is-um-is that what you two talk about when I am with Mr. Nanami,” he warbles, thinking back to the multitude of times he has held onto his preschool teachers hand and watched you smile at the white haired man. 
“No, love,” you reassure, turning your attention instead from scolding your lover to consoling the child. “Sukuna is being mean again. Don't listen to him. Mr. Gojo and I are friends.” You ignore the look that Sukuna shoots you, showing how displeased he is at the idea of you being friends with his least favorite person. 
The boy sniffles, wiping his little fists on his face. “I-I dont want you to be Fush-i-guro’s mommy. You have to stay with me and Kuna! P-Please?” He doesn't even attempt to say his brother's name correctly, forgetting how he started the conversation all together. He was focused on trying not to cry, because his brother was sure to tease him, but it wasn't working out very well.
You kiss at his chubby cheeks, shaking your head with an exasperated look on your face, wondering how the hell you got to this conversation. “I am not, promise. I'm not going anywhere. Even if your brother is the worst, brattiest, malicious person alive, I have kinda grown attached to him. Besides, if I left who would I have movie nights with?”
“I am not a–” You shoot Sukuna a nasty glare, and he in return lets out an astonished laugh, but shrugs without care.
Your words make Yuuji perk up from your lap, and his eyes widen with glee. “You like movie nights too?” He was always begging for the three of you to watch movies together, but Sukuna always denies him considering it would end up being a cheesy Disney movie that Yuuji would fall asleep not even twenty minutes into.
“I love movie nights. Do you want to have one tonight?”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Sukuna butts in, and you spare him a glance. “Babe, we have plans tonight, remember?” He tilts his head to the side suggestively and you roll your eyes at him.
“Not anymore. Me and Yuuji are going to watch…”
“Human Earthworm 2!” The boy interjects, completely forgetting about his previous experiences with the movie, not good ones.
You poke at his cheeks, shaking your head. “I was thinking The Lion King.” 
“Yes!”
“No,” Sukuna groans, covering his eyes with his palm.
You look at him with furrowed eyebrows. “No? Why are you putting your input in? You're not watching it with us.”
Sukuna, never have been told this before, looks appalled. “The fuck you mean?”
“Bad word!” Yuuji points to him in accusation, but Sukuna just ignores him.
You cock your head to the side, a sly grin pulling at your face. “You're not invited.”
“Why not?”
The two of you make eye contact for a long second, and after a moment or two, Sukuna sighs. “You're really mad about that?” You don't say anything, just continuing to stare at him. “Okay fuck–Yes that is a curse word, astute observation you brat. I am sorry for making the kid cry again.”
“And?”
Sukuna narrows his eyes at you, but you hold your ground. Then, he turns to the boy with a sigh. “Dont scream when you see Gojo and Y/N talk, alright?” He jabs his finger into the boys chest and Yuuji nods his head rapidly in understanding. But, a foxish grin pulls at the mans face and he says, “Instead…The moment you hear him talk to her, you bite his leg.”
He barks a laugh at the confused face of his brother, but when he looks up to you, the smile falters. “Okay, c’mon it was a jo–”
You point your finger to the door. “Couch.”
“You can't kick me out of my own room!”
You don't move your finger. Yuuji glances at you, cocks his head to the side, and then mimicks your action. “Couch!”
The three of you go silent for a long minute, and at this point the boy's hand begins to tremble from holding his hand out for too long. Eventually when Sukuna realizes that there was no point of reasoning, he lets out a dramatic sigh, before crawling out of bed. 
When he notices your smug smile, he flips you off and you can't help but laugh at that. “I am coming back after the movie is done, ya hear?”
“If Yuuji does not fall asleep,” You tease in return, knowing the boy well, and Sukuna rolls his eyes. 
His eyes flicker to the boy who was snuggling up to your chest, trying to find a comfortable position to watch the movie in. Sukuna chuckles to himself, opening up the door, before turning back to the kid one last time. “Hey brat,” he calls.
“Hm?” 
“The father lion–Mufasa. He is my favorite character, so you'll bound to like him a lot. In fact, I sure do wonder if you'll get attached,” he muses, and your eyes widen when you realize what he is saying. Anything that is linked with Sukuna, Yuuji immediately falls in love with. This was bound to cause hysteria. “Enjoy the movie guys! Y/N have fun!” He calls, before shutting the door.
You pause for a moment, sighing into your hand. “Kuna likes the father lion? I want to see!”
You tried everything to avoid turning on the movie after that. But Yuuji, like his brother, was stubborn, and he desperately wanted to see the lion. He grew attached very quickly in that short period of time.
Deep laughs rumble through the house when Yuuji begins to sob over the animated lion's death. You lock the door, and Sukuna stays the night on the couch. 
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12K notes · View notes
synqiri · 6 months ago
Text
YOU HAVE A LOVER?!
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or, how the traveller and paimon find out about his relationship with you.
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PAIRING: wanderer x gn!reader
WARNINGS: chocolate
WORDCOUNT: 1.1K || CONTENT: you're kinda a menace, slight crack, fluff, relationship reveal
NOTES: tell me why he's so fun to tease pls
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“hey, isn’t that hat guy?” paimon says, pointing further down the street. 
it is indeed. he stands outside lambad’s tavern, near the benches, and with him is a group of akademiya scholars. 
her eyes sparkle with curiosity at the sight. “traveller, let’s go say hi!”
snatches of conversation is all the pair hear at first. 
“just spit it out,” wanderer says, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised. “i haven’t got all day to listen to your babbling.”
the girl right in front of him has a small gift-wrapped box clutched tight in her hands, her three friends behind her all murmuring encouragements. paimon glances at aether, eyes wide. are you seeing what i’m seeing?
the traveller nods. he lingers by the waypoint, motioning for paimon to do the same. they shouldn’t interrupt just yet.
“uhm — i really like you!” the girl rushes out nervously, presenting the gift out to the wanderer hastily. “please accept this!”
aether hears his companion gasp.
wanderer says nothing, picking the little box up for inspection. he gives it a soft shake. “what’s in this?”
“chocolate! i didn’t know which you liked, but — but when we were at the store, someone overheard us talking and recommended a brand… i think their name was [name]...? everyone knows you’re friends, so…”
at that, the wanderer lets out a disbelieving scoff, expression an odd mix of amused and incredulous. aether is curious himself. he wonders what kind of person wanderer would consider a friend.
“not bad,” wanderer tells the girl, pocketing the box as he does, “i guess you have no one but that fool to thank.”
her group of friends cheer, and the girl can’t help but laugh too. with their goal achieved, they scuttle away, chattering. at this, paimon finally rushes up to the guy, aether following suit. she’s stumbling over all her words, completely and utterly flabbergasted. 
“you — i — what was that?!” she exclaims. “since when do you get love confessions?”
aether can’t tell if that was the right or wrong thing to say. wanderer smirks, almost puffing up with pride. “what, like it’s hard?”
paimon stomps her feet. “but you’re —! ugh, whatever. paimon feels bad for all the hearts you break.”
“why should i have to care about that? they should be prepared to face rejection if they are prepared to bare their heart out for all to see.” wanderer shrugs, tone lofty. 
“it’s not as if you can relate,” she quips. “what are you doing here, anyway?”
at this, he huffs, rolling his eyes. “do you think i want to be here, standing around like a buffoon? and yet here i am, waiting for someone with zero respect for my time.” 
aether doesn’t point out the fact that if wanderer really hadn’t wanted to wait, he would have left ages ago. paimon tilts her head curiously. “who are you waiting for? is it that [name] person?”
wanderer stiffens at that. his eyes narrow. “where did you learn that name?”
“we overheard that girl say it just now. why? Is it someone important?”
“of course i’m important!” 
paimon screams. wanderer sighs. aether turns behind to look at the source of the voice.
the traveller assumes you’re [name], and is proven right when you introduce yourself cheerily. shaking both his and paimon’s hands, you say, “it’s so nice to meet the people who knocked sense into this guy over here.”
glaring, wanderer grumbles, almost petulantly. he threatens, “keep up with that and i won’t give you your chocolate.”
“nononono, i was only joking, darling, forgive me?” 
your demeanour flips in an instant, and you whirl around to face him with a puppy-eyed pout. faintly, a baffled paimon echoes a soft, darling? 
wanderer sighs, producing the gift out for you, and you accept it eagerly. 
“you got chocolates for me?” you say, playfully swooning. unwrapping the box, you pop a piece into your mouth. “my favourite kind too! you're the best.”
the irony is neither lost on aether. paimon gleefully accepts a piece from you when you offer. 
“you should have one too,” you tell wanderer, who has been looking at you with an odd look aether has yet to decipher. holding out a chocolate in your fingers, you prompt, “say ‘ah’.”
begrudgingly, he opens up. still, he doesn't fail to make a fuss off it, proclaiming about how sweets were beneath him, and how he preferred the bitterness of coffee. you wave it all off with an eyeroll, and aether is struck with the similarity it had to wanderer's own.
“how long have you been friends?” paimon asks for him. “you two seem really close.”
you burst into laughter, and wanderer glances away. your eyes glitter with amusement. “friends? did he tell you that? ‘cuz personally, i don't know any friends who go on dates —”
“a ‘date’ that you are late to,” wanderer cuts in.
you erupt into another fit of giggles at that. “sorry, sorry. i've been here the whole time, actually — but i was hiding over there when that group of girls approached you.”
wanderer could not look any more unimpressed. though just as he's about to retort, paimon finally stops short-circuiting. 
“YOU'RE DATING?!”
“announce it to the entire world, why don't you?” wanderer snarks, though there is a noticeable flush on the tips of his ears, creeping onto his cheeks. it is then aether realises the expression he hadn't deciphered had been fondness.
you only grin, looping an arm around his. then, before anyone can react, you smack the fattest kiss on his cheek. “that's right! you don't know just how much effort it took wooing this guy.”
“i can imagine…” paimon says, dumbstruck.
wanderer shoots them the most murderous of glares, hissing, “tell a soul about this, and i swear neither of you will live to see the new dawn.”
“he's shy,” you add with a conspiratorial whisper. “but really, we'd prefer if word doesn't get out.”
“our lips are sealed,” paimon vows solemnly.
then, aether taps her on the shoulder, jerking his head in the direction of the adventurer's guild post. thankfully, she takes the hint.
“actually we're really really busy so we'll leave the two of you to it now,” paimon says quickly. “enjoy your date!”
at that, you bid the both of them farewell happily after telling them to visit sometime, and aether leaves with a much different impression he had of wanderer.
though, when he steals a glance back, he sees the both of you entering the tavern, wanderer's grip on your hand tight. and while he cannot see the look on your faces, he can make out the softness in his stance, and the joy in yours.
aether can't help but feel happy for him. it seems that the ‘wanderer’ had finally found a ‘home’.
4K notes · View notes
emmyrosee · 6 months ago
Note
and then when tattoo artist sukuna and reader start dating🤔🙏PLEASEEEE
By the time you start dating, you’ve got more than enough piercings done by him, a few pieces of ink that decorate your skin, and when you come in for an appointment, he can barely keep his hands off of you, kissing your neck and jawline and running his hands up and down your back before and after because who is going to question the big, bad, Sukuna about PDA? No one. That’s who.
He’s all for the PDA, all for flaunting you around, and who are you to complain? But even without you there, he’s got evidence of your presence covering his body- he’s got your name on his collarbone, a wavelength tattoo of you saying “I love you” along the other ink of his neck, and a kiss mark on the inner part of his wrist. He wants to do the bite mark on his chest, next to the other dark ink littering his skin, but you tell him to wait until you catch up.
More often than not, your appointments lap over others because you’re just in his room talking, he loves to hear you talk about anything and everything, he’s enamored and obsessed with you that when he’s got you plopped onto his lap while he sketches with his chin hooked over your shoulder, those are his little slices of heaven- until someone interrupts it with a knock about his next appointment.
“I’m fucking busy!” He snarls.
“No, baby, they’re right,” you mewl, scooting out of his lap and trying not to find amusement in the way he groans in agony at the loss of you. “You’re working. I shouldn’t be here-“
“You’re supposed to be here,” he grumbles. “We made an appointment for us to chill, this is your appointment!” He’s pouting. Actual, literal pouting, and you coo and cup his cheeks to plant a kiss on his lips.
“You coming by after work?”
“Fuck kind of question is that, of course I am,” he scoffs.
“Good.” You watch him carefully as you reach into your bag, and his eyes bulge in annoyance.
“Do not.”
“Do not what?”
“If you try to leave me a tip, hand to god-“
You say nothing, but you throw a wad of cash folded neatly onto the chair in his office, giggling as you dash out of the room and shimmy through the waiting area. “You’re going to pay for that, shithead!”
“Love you, baby!”
4K notes · View notes
screampied · 7 months ago
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‘ ONE OF HIS GIRLSSSS ! ,
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ᡴꪫ‎ sum. toji ends up finding out maybe his best friend's daughter isn’t so innocent after all once he walks in on you and your precious 12k viewers. he grows amused by your little side hustle as a cam girl. but actually, maybe having him as a special guest wasn’t so bad. (girl it was)
wc. 6k
warnings. fem! reader, vōyerism, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), unprotected, praise, dirty talk, squírting, cunnílingus, slight dumbification, impact play, size kink, spit.
dbf! toji masterlist
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“guys, i’m serious,” you’d utter, your monitor staring right back at you — a full live audience of over twelve thousand eyes listening to you speak. you were cooped up in your room, slouching on your chair with your legs pressed together. “he’s totally real. we even almost got caught one time.”
you were referring to your dad’s best friend, toji…
just muttering his name aloud made you feel all sorts of tingles. oh, to think how that 'one time' was just about three days ago. you still remember everything like it just happened, the intoxicating taste of toji’s lips, his unforgettable loud cologne scent, how fucking mean he was, you missed him, who were you even kidding. last time you checked, him and your father went out somewhere. you didn’t bother to care where, probably fishing or something.
skimming through the plethora of donations with filthy questions, thirsty provocative questions that desperately craved your attention, you read one, “how is he in bed, oh—well,” and you squeeze your thighs before re-adjusting your screen. “he’s okay. i had to fake my orgasms a few times though, figures ‘cause he’s kinda old.”
“oh yeah?”
as if on cue, there toji stood—right outside your doorway, hands buried in his deep roots of pockets and that same unreadable expression. he’s sending you straight daggers, you crane your neck to glance at him before you panic, “uh, i’ll talk to you guys later.”
“nah keep that shit on, girl,” he shakes his head, trodding his bare feet towards you. you mentally face palm. you could have sworn he was out somewhere with your father. “just when i thought ya couldn’t get even freakier,” he mutters, and he’s now behind you—green irises peering at your monitor. the chat suddenly spams with some of your audience lusting over toji, wondering if he’s a special guest. “heyyy,” he says to the screen, his voice was a pitchy low and then you gasp once he throws an arm around you. “is he a special guest?” and then he turns to you with a sly grin. “i don’t know, princess . . am i?”
“. . . i mean i guess,” you speak, not even realizing how your tone softens a bit. this always happened, whenever you were just a few feet away from toji, you’d feel so tense. it’s officially been a week since the two of you were screwing around—you hadn’t gotten caught, at least you think you haven’t gotten caught. the thrill of it all though, it was enticing. he eyes your little set up and he’s amused more than anything. “this is the guy i was telling you guys about,” you avert your dilated pupils back towards the bright screen. “this is . . . toji.”
“heh yo,” he scoffs at the screen with a greet, seeing how your confidence fades the moment he’s in the room with you. toji leans beside you, eyeing the lewd comments before one catches his eye. “tell him to turn around. what for?”
you sheepishly grin at the webcam, knowing some of your aroused fans wanted to take a quick peek at toji’s ass. to be fair, you couldn’t exactly blame them. you stare a bit yourself, and it was definitely. . . something.
three new tips from mod gojoclitoru: girl bye he looks like he doesn’t shower
wormfucker69: he looks like the guy who works @ my cleaners lol
shokostrapdestroyer: Where’s Shoko ?????
kanyeastinfection: Soooo hawt ;)
iloveosamudazai: i miss nanamin
“how come y’er all shy? i heard what you’ve been saying ‘bout me, y’know,” toji mumbles. he stands tall, cracking his neck towards the left. his entire frame, he was always so handsome. you take a moment to glance up at him, his perfectly chiseled physique. he looked like he was about to head to the gym, he had on a simple wife beater with dingy grey sweats. his gaze he had towards you was purely tantalizing. “. . ah,” he inches closer towards you, bending down as you sat on the office chair, getting right up close to your face. “why don’t you repeat that last bit for me. you fake your orgasms with this old man?”
“i didn’t ….” you trail off, trying to come up with some excuse. suddenly, it felt hot. you felt hot.
your heart starts to race the more he stared you down. the chat was going at a much more rapid speed, it’s like your viewer count doubled the moment toji entered. then you thought—maybe this would do you some good, having him as a special guest didn’t seem so bad.
he lightly grabs your chin, making you peer straight into his eyes. “i stay away from you for three days ‘n it seems like you forgot how to act.”
toji did have a point precisely, for the last three days you basically had the entire house to yourself. him and your father went out to some business trip, you missed him though.
of course, if you tagged along you’d be sure you’d both get caught so you just offered to watch over the house. it was as if the more time you spent with toji, the more you started to feel something.
you didn’t know what it was, it was hard to put into detail, put into pure words—but you knew for certain, you didn’t wanna stop seeing him. it was spring break after all…
“i meant what i said,” you mutter.
while returning his gaze, toji’s eyes widen for a bit, off guard by your sudden switch of attitude. you had a bit of a plan, you decided if you played along, your sweet thousands of fans would eat it up. and they were, the repetitive high-pitch sounds of constant donations rang through your ears before you continue to speak. “i faked everything, toji.”
his eyes linger into you for a long time before he drags a thumb down your lip. “well shit. that so?” and his voice—it pitches a dangerous tune. you already start to feel your thighs squeeze together more tightly. “mhm,” he grunts, watching you nod your head in response. he scoffs to himself before grumbling. “maybe i should make it more real for you then.”
with such simple words, trust and believe he does.
toji’s way of making it more real was to simply have you ride his face, all in front of your audience too.
for some reason, you felt burning up coming to the sheer realization that literally all eyes were simply on you. a quick glance at your blue light monitor and the viewer count displayed a hefty whopping amount of 12,295. all you could think about it was the hefty bank you were about to make.
your legs quaver as toji’s laid flat on your old bed, having you take your seat right on his face — his breath is hot as he runs his tongue alongside your inner thighs before giving you a stare. “eyes down here, not them,” he snarls, and you moan once he spanks your pre-soaked clit, your panties still attached. “they aren’t about to fuckin’ eat you out, are they?”
“n—no,” you murmur out, looking down back at him and he slowly runs a fat thumb down your slit.
oh, you were soaked alright.
a cute little damp spot between the middle part of your underwear makes an appearance and he slides his tongue all against it. he’s so slow with it all, making sure to take his time to make you pout out for him. “toji,” you mumble, feeling your tummy sink in before you huff out a single breath. he’s still so attractive, even underneath you—a little yet nice amount of facial hair scatters near certain parts of his face. scattered specks of brief darkened hair near his sharp jaw paint his face like an empty canvas. you run a finger against his chin and he shoots you a sleazy grin. “hurry up, toji.”
dark eyes flicker back towards you before he gifts your sopping pussy a mean spank. “hurry up toji,” he mocks your tone. you melodically whimper, watching as he licks a single stripe between your covered slit. “shut the fuck up. ‘m gonna take my time with you since apparently you ‘fake’ everything.”
you couldn’t help but merely slip out a giggle, your comment really offended him in some way. obviously, you were joking though—you and toji both knew he knew how to snatch multiple orgasms out of you at once. he was quite a skilled man without question, with his tongue—his dick, literally anything.
although, you snap out of your salacious thoughts the moment you feel him latch his tongue against your folds. it took you a minute to realize your panties were already off, he practically ripped them off and he was already digging in. you whimper, hovering your weight over his face before staring at the lit up monitor.
BIGDICKKUNA: Even my domain has better camera quality than this
gojoclitoru: here sukuna go…
FOXYKITTEN2940: clean up aisle my pants >.<
you’re starting to grind against his face, a hand combing through his hair before your bite your lip. toji stares at you, dragging a thumb down your puffy slit before leaning back to spit on it. he was always such a sloppy man—no shame in the world. you’d feel yourself pulsate whenever he did that, departing his lips away from your cunt before collecting a good wad of saliva to coat your folds with such a sheeny translucent color.
squelch after squelch, undeniably you were sopping. his nose briefly prods against your nub and you whine once he finally starts to actually eat you out.
“f-fuckkk.” you’d breathe, intaking a sharp breath. sudden dizziness overtook you—a thrum escapes from your sheeny lips as you rock your hips forward. it was hypnotic, the way you move against his mouth. toji looked so pretty underneath you too. his eyes, so hooded and half lidded—such a hungry gaze, a starved animal. he starts tantalizingly slow at first, making sure to lay the flat of his tongue against your entrance before simply digging in.
side—to—side, his head continues to swiftly shift and move as he’s devouring his meal, a thumb continues to strum against your slick arousal before he starts to suck, suck, suck.
candy, a perfect way to describe your taste in toji’s humblest opinion. he could never get enough, a few long strands of his hair tickles against your thighs as he resumes his sloppy eating. “mhm. pull on it.” he says between hot breaths, and you feel a sudden fire ignite inside of you. you knew immediately he was referring to his hair. such ruffled, messy strands desperately awaiting to be tugged by your fingers.
so you do—you take a good grab, lightly yanking him forward and he grunts.
“. . harder,” he rasps, and he’s already starting to look blissed out. eyes all glazed over, you wriggle over his face before you feel a sudden shiver overtake you. you pull harder and his face goes right against your cunt. you sloppily swipe against his nose like a credit card and he smirks at you. “that’s what ‘m talking about. ride my face, girl.”
his words, his filthy vulgarly words guide you through it all.
each pulse makes you twitch even more—each breath that runs out your mouth feels like it’s going to be your last, especially with a tongue like toji’s. he makes sure not to miss a drop, slurping quite everything out of you. he was a man—not necessarily a clean one, but he was never scared of a little mess. you start to coat the bottom part of his chin with your slit, it’s glistening so much.
after a while, toji’s already drunk off of your sweetened taste. every few flicks of his tongue against your nub makes cute whimpers coo out your throat and you only tighten the grip against his hair.
“r-right there, ‘s good when you suck there, toji.”
“cause i know what the fuck ‘m doing.” he grumbles back, bringing his same thumb to slide down your slit. he repeats it again and again. smearing your own mess right back on you, only to clean it up. he was a messy man, and with a tasty pussy that you had—you only made him ten times messier.
he was never one to complain though, toji’s the type to never say thank you—he shows you how grateful he is, it involves with being between your legs.
toji fushiguro…
a sleazy man without a single care in the word, maybe messing around his with best friend’s daughter slash colleague was a bit taboo. but did he care—no, was he gonna stop doing it—no, was he perhaps catching feelings for you the more time he spends with you? were you catching feelings?
. . .
unanswered questions, even if you asked yourself that question, you honestly couldn’t even know how to reply. the two of you never really labeled anything, so this was just a simple spring break fling right?
once courses resume and you go back to your well prestige university your father got you into due to connections, that’d probably be the last you’d see of him. toji fushiguro, the man you’ve been screwing around with for the past almost two weeks. it’s almost safe to say that you started to get attached to his presence—sometimes it’s like the two of you didn’t even care if you got caught. there was literally a time where toji fingered you under the table during dinner.
that was . . embarrassing.
the way you were trying to withhold a conversation with your father—he’s just rambling you about what a boring day he had at the office and you’re over here gushing on his best friend’s fingers. you find yourself thinking about that specific moment all too well—as well as the various other ones, him fucking you on the hood of his car, in the living room, and even the bathroom—which your panties ended up getting found.
oops.
“told you to keep those fuckin’ eyes on me,” he hoarsely rasps—snapping you out of your lewd reminiscing fantasm. his tongue, it’s swirling all against your clit as you focus your attention back towards him. with two big hands, he holds your jerky hips steady—feeling you rut against his mouth before he feels you pulse right in his mouth. “yeah.” he mutters, bringing two digits to prod towards your slick entrance. you whine, feeling him slowly insert them with ease—so wet, he was almost in awe at how you were dripping like a faucet. not even a faucet could compare nor describe how sodden your sweet cunt was. each lap he makes with his tongue gets more filthy, it turns into sucking before you’re practically spasming all over again.
you moan, hands still tight and rigidly tangled within his strands before you take a quick peek at your laptop. so many eyes were on you—so many more eyes now, the count was steadily doubling, the donations you were receiving made your mouth nearly water. tip after tip, your pupils turned into green dollar signs. this was probably the most viewers you had in the entirety of your little cam girl side hustle.
all thanks to toji.
you’re getting close, it’s inevitable—especially with the way your hips continue to rock back and forth. a cute rhythm he got accustomed to, toji brings two rough hands towards the fat mounds of your ass before squeezing it. he was always a handsy man, feeling all over your body. green pools of eyes stare right at you as you’re intaking each staggering breath that escapes your spit-glossed lips. “c-close, toji,” you’d babble out, your knees almost buckle—a sudden twinge pouring into your lower abdomen before you mewl. “gonna—cum, gonna—”
“baby hold it,” he says sternly, the base in his voice never failing to make you wet. he breaks his lips away for a moment before he glances at the screen—an upside down position. “hm. chat, should the pretty girl finish early?”
your heart drops—you knew how many trolls you had in your audience, and before you could cutely tell him to just let you climax, he hums in amusement at the incoming flood of comments.
chososbootylicker29: Petition to have Toji oiled and cheeked up
zorosballswallower: NOOOOO
anonymoususer: dad?
gojoclitoru: lol no.
and with many others the comments continue to flood.
majority of the answers being no—you hated being edged, loathed it. especially with toji because he was so damn mean. he snickers, reading the responses upside down before you feel the two tips of his fingers shove way deep inside you. your back arches and you whine ore he holds your hips in place with a single hand. “looks like y’er little fans want you to wait pretty girl,” and you look down at him with a cute glare—his lips depart and his entire mouth from the very bottom of his chin was damp. even still, he looked so attractive. “cute. a glare ain’t gonna change nothing though,” and a pout shortly stretched against your lips as he runs his tongue near your frantic pulsing clit. he brings a spank to it and it makes you whine. “be a good girl ‘n wait a little longer.”
“i can’t,” you frown out, and that only earns another sharp spank towards your folds.
“yes you fuckin’ can,” and you start to whine once he stops eating you out. it felt so warm, all of a sudden the cold air wafts against your skin and you shudder. toji loves more than anything to spank your pussy whilst staring right into your eyes. “if i tell my girl to wait, she’s gonna wait.”
my girl…
for some reason, that made your pulsing ten times worse, a plethora of butterflies arise inside your stomach and you’re still just hovering over his face.
he palpates his fingers—not his tongue to rummage all inside your cunt, you frown cutely. you wanted his tongue, not his stubby thick fingers. although, the thing you wanted most was to finish. as you grind against his face, you feel his infamous scar run against your pussy and it tickles. it tickles in such a way that it drags out a sweet crying moan from you.
“t—toji,” you start to grow impatient. he’s just teasing you, blowing against your folds with warm breath, swiping his nose alongside your sopping entrance, anything but tasting you again. he likes seeing you like this, on the brink of tears because you got denied a climax. it started to come closer and closer until once it was finally there—you puff up your cheeks for a split second before moaning. “g-god, i can’t hold it. ‘m gonna cummm.”
“wait,” he utters in a husky rasp, watching as you quaveringly hover over his face—chin just soaked with your arousal, he licks the bottom of his lip before tittering at you. “you finish when i’m ready.”
“f-fuck you,” you whimper, and you end up cumming anyway—he’s taken aback but it only arouses him even more. the brat, oh the brat that you were. one of the many things he liked about you, you were submissive but not entirely—you had a backbone, you talked back to him, you even had the nerve to roll those pretty eyes at him.
it hits you like a semi-truck.
illegal full speed, the brakes were had to step on and you feel it just strike right into you at full force. your orgasm, you scoot your hips forward against his mouth and now he’s the one glaring at you. toji laps up all of you, two fingers spreading your clit apart before he spits on it again. “you just don’t listen, huh,” and his voice was even lower than it was before—a rich baritone lingering underneath it. you’re riding out your climax when he lightly shoves you on the bed.
in your mind, you’re thinking . .
finally, the good part.
toji grimaces at the cute smile that goes against your lips. you’re eager just as him— not to mention, it’s been three days since he’s touched you. “don’t get too excited, brat,” he grumbles with a scowl tugging the corners of his mouth. he plops onto the bed before staring down at you. “bend the fuck over for me. fake orgasm my ass.”
so blunt, you immensely comply—so impatient for him to just be inside of you.
the piles of donations triple by this point, and you try to take a peep at your screen before he spanks your ass. “ass up, face down little girl. don’t got all day.”
“sorryyy,” you giggle with a mere eye roll.
testing toji’s patience was always so fun for you. for whatever reason, getting on his nerves really turned you on. once you finally bend over for him, two hands grab the fats of your ass and you bite your lip once he prepares to align himself. you’re facing your bright lit screen.
the comments talking more about toji than you and you pout . . . figures though. he’s hot, no wonder all the attention would be on him instead of you.
with his right hand, he wraps it around his thick length before rubbing his tip against your pre-drenched entrance. he grunts, witnessing how your pussy tries to swallow him so easily…
you’re puckering, awaiting for him to stuff you full as you’re slump right into the mattress. “but sweetheart, y’er not sorry,” he grunts, smacking his fat tip against your slick folds. a soft mewl runs out the back of your throat before you arch just a bit more. with another spank, he snarls in a huff, “not gonna fuck ya that easy. y’er gonna have to use those manners if you wanna get what you want.”
“huh?”
“huh?” he mocks, kissing your ass with another spank from his palm. “you can’t hear? speak, girl. talk ‘ta me nice.”
glossy eyes of yours avert towards your screen, everyone’s lusting over toji and it only fuels his ego even more—you easily felt yourself throb, a pout never leaving your lips before you inhale.
“please . . ” you start, feeling him softly drag a hand against your curves, your physique. his touch always had you weak, taking in every part of your frame. all his . . just for these few weeks.
“please what?”
“please f—fuck me,” you grumble, and you’re growing more and more irritated—he hums to himself, amused. each second you spend speaking, each second he could be inside of you. you and him both knew that.
toji rubs his leaky tip with a bit more pressure against your pussy, just a a little more and he’d be inside. you started to feel your mouth salivate before you start to whine. “hm,” he ponders to himself, green eyes occasionally staring at the laptop that had about hundreds of comments spamming per second. “fine. i feel like bein’ nice to you today, especially since i haven’t seen my girl in a hot minute,” and again, he refers to you as his girl. it sends an unfamiliar feeling of butterflies brewing up in your stomach before he spanks you for probably the umpteenth time now. “now, arch a liiiitle more ‘n stare at your fans for me, yeah.”
you’re propped on the mattress with your ass all up in the air. from your screen as you stare at it, you spot toji’s mirroring reflection. that sly smile that slowly and gradually forms against his lips.
“lie the fuck down.” he mutters, feeling you try to sit up. you do, intaking a single breath before you feel him huff out a low puff. toji’s eyes stare right at your ass, he takes every moment in. the way you suck him in, it’s just filthy. the saturated squelches that shortly follow afterward—so filthy.
a six letter word to perfectly describe this entire situation.
arched over for your dad’s best friend, who would have thought—not you, not in a million years.
“ . . . shit,” he pants, and you’re so wet. you moan, pawing at the fat silk sheets in front of you. so many flooded comments of your audience merely thirsting over toji, wishing desperately that they were in your position. ( . . quite literally . . )
and toji’s just so fucking big.
he’s got a lofty height of inches under his belt.
metaphorically speaking—just a single sharp thrust and you’re speechless.
the wind gets snatched out of your lungs and it’s so vigorous that your head’s spinning. this entire angle, he’s got you right where he wants you—on all fours with your ass perked up. toji can’t keep his hands to himself anyway, his hands roam all over your waist before holding both hips in place. clammy hands just about stick to your skin before he starts to create a decent pace.
a slow pace — a slow pace that turns more mean.
languidly, you feel yourself leaning to his touch as he runs a hand down your spine.
toji brings one leg up to deepen the position and not even moments later, your lips part.
“t—toji . . ah ah,” and you don’t even recognize yourself. he repositions himself for a split second, making haste with his hips before sliding his feet right past your knees. with this, it’s more stimulation and you feel it all. just the right amount of pressure, his balls sharply thwack against your ass and it makes your mind cloud up with fuzz.
“. . damn,” he groans, a hand grabbing towards the back of your university hoodie. as he leans forward, dark viridescent colored pupils stare at your rear. the way it jerks and recoils against him, everytime . . it’s the best part. even more when he spanks it, deepening his hips against your cunt to earn out a cute whine or two from you. for what seemed like the millionth time, toji kisses the right cheek of your ass with various spanks. the sting has you gnawing on your lip like it’s candy, curling your toes up with a few droplets of sweat coating the bridge of your nose. “missed this pussy, three days too fuckin’ long, brat.”
“i missed you t—.”
“girl hello? i wasn’t talking to you.”
you frown, and it follows from a snicker from him.
“. . . so dramatic,” he’d eye roll once he hears you blow out a cute sigh. “fine, i did miss you,” and that was only a half lie. you knew in actuality, he missed what’s between your legs. toji still remained sassy as usual, it never left and it’d always stay. he’s buried all into you, deep to the hilt that each time his angry reddened tip drives against that spot, you squeal out in sweet pleasure.
it didn’t take him long to locate it, your g-spot. after a while you start to feel your pussy open, spreading wide—gaping. he was so ridiculously big, it’s leaving such question marks floating over your forehead because how can someone be this thick.
with a gruff—toji groans, veins bulging through his veins as he yanks your hoodie forward into him. he’s lenient, at least for a good while. letting you have your fun, get drunk off his cock before he edges you a more . . . oh just maybe.
gojoclitoru: does anyone want the link to my only fans :(
willbang4curses: Idk who I wanna be more…
iamnotsugurugetoseriouslyiamnothim: i want your only fans @/gojoclitoru
hotpeach03: Toji please I’m a single mom
your chat continues to spate, it’s so much that as your eyes watch them all flood down the logs, you could barely read the words.
he’s so deep inside, you’re almost drooling.
the stretch—he always leaves you so full, lips all parted and that same gaping mouth opening. pant after pant, you’re heaving heavily with your chest feeling tight and warm. “so deep,” you’d shriek, and he makes your arch lower just a bit further. he’s hitting all the right spots, not missing a single area. his dick retreats as it pulls out, then back again—twitching all inside of your cunt, he lunges forward with his hips before making you plop on your chest. “. . . .ohmygodohmygoddd,” and you were so whiney, you still can’t believe such pathetic noises slither past your damp lips. engulfed with your warm gummy walls squeezing him tight, he spanks you again . . . and again, and again.
“miss me that bad, huh?” he starts to speak. his voice was a pitchy rasp. a gruff base hides underneath it and you can hear the grit lingering like he needs to clear his throat. nevertheless, you throb anyway as he’s jackhammering his cock right into your swollen cunt over, and over, and over. “that why ya keep walkin’ around with these outfits? with no fuckin’ panties underneath, yeah?”
“forgot,” you whimper, shuddering once you feel toji grow playful. he trails his thumb towards your neglected puckering hole, fiddling with it just to get a reaction out of you, and he does. “s-sorry, ‘m sorry.”
“you don’t just forget to put panties on, slut,” he groans, and he feels himself approaching soon. it’s at the tip of his tongue—he feels the burn arise in the lower parts of his thighs, veins contouring to bulge all throughout his body. “wonder what y’er old man would think. ya only pull this shit ‘cause ‘s just you ‘n me here.”
he was right.
then again—if you’d have your father here, you’d never pull a bold stunt like that.
you’d rather drop dead than save yourself the embarrassment. funny though, considering the amount of times you almost got caught.
“so . . ” you mumble, and that’s when he presses his weight right against you this time. ah, prone bone.
you were really in for it now, thickly you swallow before his weight merely hovers over your ass, really deep in you this time.
he vigorously rams his thick cock into your sweltering cunt that’s hugging him oh so tight. he’s such a tease too—using every few chances he gets to poke and gingerly rub a thumb against your pulsating hole.
sweet moans die from your throat as you’re clinging onto the bed—such force that the springs nearly collapse from the whopping amounts of weight creating sheer impact. each thrust, it rings rapidly throughout your ears before toji groans. “f—fuck,” he’d groan, ignoring your little attempts of pure bratiness. you were at your wits end, smothering your glossed lips together before you feel his rounded cockhead mash against your most forbidden spots. spots that was so deep inside the inner areas of your cunt that it makes you mewl out in pure ecstasy. “gonna make me fill you up, princess,” he huffs out, tugging even tighter on the bottom part of your cerulean blue pull over. “s—shit,” and his gruff voice pitches time and time again. for a moment, you think you can hear toji whimper. it was real subtle though, but you heard it. loud and clearly. “gonna take it like you always do?”
“yesyesyes,” you nod—words pouring out of your lips like a waterfall, kneading your fingers into your palms as you bawled up the bedsheets right into your hands. with hooded droopy eyes, you stare at the screen with a dumb expression—he then takes the opportunity to get closer, grabbing you by the hair before holding your head up in front of your thousands of viewers.
“yes what, girl.”
you whine, feeling how perfectly his dick mashed throughout your folds—so easy for him, he was so thick that the stretch was simply immaculate.
“yesss, ‘m gonna take your c-cum, toji,” you’d pant, feeling your own eyes roll backwards—you probably looked a mess in front of your own thirteen thousand viewers, but you could care less. all that your empty brain could fathom was how you were ludicrously stuffed with his hefty cock. he’s drilling into you so good that that it almost feels like a massage. rough fingers run down your spine with one hand, another holding your head by the hair like it’s a prized possession before you whimper. “fuck me, fuck me, fuh—”
toji slaps a hand over your mouth the minute he hears something from downstairs—sure enough, it had to be your father.
shit.
he must have came home early. you remember him mentioning to you he was taking a trip to the corner store after work, probably to get some booze for him and toji to enjoy for some dumb football game.
“honeyyy? you up there?”
you moan, almost feeling your eyelids grow heavy as he’s still holding your head up in front of your laptop—his reflection in the screen just pounding into you at full speed.
already, you’re coating the back of his hand with nothing but your damp saliva—such a dirty girl, preferably his dirty girl.
maybe you were a bit delusional, no. you were very delusional—maybe this could go somewhere? then. again, it was no secret on how toji’s only around to get his dick wet, a reality that you forevermore choose to ignore—until you’d soon find out how that would bite you in the ass later on.
dead silence—you’re just muffling out mewls right into his mouth, and as if on cue, toji ends up finishing inside of you. it’s so much, velvety ropes of hot nut that fill the very insides of your pussy, shooting straight into your womb that your tummy flutters. it’s so much to where it spews out of your hole, he’s gotta poke his thumb in and swipe some out with the way it continues to leak. it’s so dirty, then again—toji fushiguro was a dirty man, the dirtiest.
“are ya gonna reply ‘n let y’er old man know you’re getting off his best friend’s cock or . . ?”
his words, such a tease that he’s still slowly pumping into you. gradually but slow, he plugs into your walls—seeping with cum that oozes out of your folds and you stare at the screen with a cute cock-drunken expression. “mmph,” was your reply, the only reply you could formulate since his big hand almost covered your entire face. so you give him a concise nod, hooded eyes feeling dry from staring at the screen for so many amount of minutes.
eventually, your father leaves and returns back to what he was doing . . . phew.
“that’s right,” he whispers in a low risqué tone, bringing a kiss towards the left part of your neck.
so tender—you’re gathering the strength to sit up but you end up slumping forward. with a pathetic, ‘oof’ you land on your chest, your own climax at the very edge. it’s cute because you end up finishing around the same time—your chest feels heavy, lungs tightly collapsing and all. the perfect way to describe your orgasm was a bomb—a bomb that was ticking and ticking, preparing to detonate before it finally does. instead, the destruction was you squirting, all over toji’s dick that stuffed you full. he’s so close up to your ear, hot breath fanning against your earlobe before he continues to speak. “. . oh, y’er fuckin’ dumb right now, aren’t ya. can barely speak.” and he removes his hand to where a trail of your spit departs. so lewd, you’re spasming from your recent release before with a quick glance—you stare at your monitor. you surpassed your tip goal by a huge milestone, yet like toji said—you were too dumb to even process let alone acknowledge it.
“t—toji,” you whimper, feeling the remnants of his sweet and savory seed pour down the crevices of your thighs. it was sticky, sticking to your skin like glue, sweltering of its entirety.
“come here, princess.”
it surprised you. for once, he was being . . . soft.
you reach backwards, closing your laptop before leaning right into toji. you moan, feeling his beefy ripped arms wrap around you, bringing you right into his embrace. bulky arms go around your waist and he pulls you into a sloppily heated kiss.
simultaneously, your heart skips a few beats—a few, probably an understatement. he tastes sweet, you could make out a brief tang of liquor on his tongue—a taste you didn’t want to ever forget. as your tongue rummages against his, you moan once he gets a bit handsy, a hand going right between your legs to feel the mess he made. the mess you made yourself also.
breathy pants could be heard from your lips as you press your dampish perspiring hands all on his bare chest. he’s wearing a somewhat of a formal shirt — you tug on his collar, yearning for him to come closer, to touch you more, hold you more. something, whatever it was was just brewing up inside of the very depths, the very pits of your stomach.
toji groans, the warmth of his breath wafting against yours before he pulls you away to get a good glimpse of you. a big hand holds your waist, and his eyes peer into you for a long time before as if he hesitates—he kisses the top of your forehead, only to stare away with a scowl.
“. . . toji,” you murmur, and by this point you weren’t speaking with your brain—more so with your heart. it was apparent, especially with the way your droopy hooded eyes suddenly soften the moment you speak out the two syllables in his name.
“let me speak first.” he grouses, a thumb stringing alongside your back, gently strumming against your skin. with the way you gazed at him, making him lie back before aligning yourself, it was clear as day that you wanted more of him. he leans back, long strands of black hair run down his face with his legs sprawled before he prepares to finish.
you straddle him, sitting flat on his lap and he’s so warm—he’s a bit flustered, flaccid from his release and of course a bit sensitive. it’s quite rare to see toji in such a . . . vulnerable state. perhaps you soften him in a few ways or less. at least, that’s what you’d like to think.
it takes him a long time to formulate the words, it’s as if his tongue was tied—weird for him considering it’s toji, he’s always direct and blunt.
and yet for once, you have him speechless.
toji lets off a irritated sigh before while what seems like forever, he mutters out a gruff, “shit. i . . i think ‘m in love with you.”
“ . . . ”
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nereidprinc3ss · 27 days ago
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diva
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in which flirty!reader shows up to work in a bad mood and it’s spencer’s job to deal with her attitude. not that he minds. (bandages universe)
fluff warnings/tags: fem!reader, mentions of reader coming to work from a casual hookup, flirting, lots of teasing, the BAU being silly geese bc this is before all the trauma, insecurities about reader's job performance, spencer wants to be a cyborg, borderline cuddling hehehe a/n: nanana diva is a female version of a hustler (bandages!reader theme song) no but really i just missed them so much lowkey always accepting requests for these two!! I hope you guys likeeee bc i loveee them and also this was based on a request so i hope u see this LOL
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As soon as Hotch calls wheels up in thirty you’re slumping forward, resting your head on folded arms. The to-go cup on the round table in front of you has long been emptied but you look at it longingly anyway. 
Morgan chuckles, slapping his folder down on the table next to you. “Aw, look at that. Bright eyed and bushy tailed.”
“It’s Sunday,” you groan. “It’s seven in the morning. Excuse me for not being ready to carpe the diem.”
“It’s just carpe diem,” Spencer interjects, standing and slipping his file into his bag. You sit up and give him the most indignant look you can manage, though it’s hard when you’re this tired and he’s that cute. Slacks. Sweater vest. Button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. An enviable waist. 
“Whose side are you on?”
He frowns, brushing a tuft of shining-clean brown hair out of his eyes. 
“If I was on anyone’s side other than my own it would cease to be their side. We’re all always on our own sides.”
“No, you’re on my side. Defend me.”
His brows only dart up and he looks back down to his bag. It’s a look you know well. Don’t get me involved. 
Morgan spins in his chair to face you, one elbow resting on the table. 
“I’m just saying, if this is your Sunday morning, I’d love to see your Saturday night, little miss forty five minutes late.”
“You heard Hotch say he called me half an hour earlier than everyone else. It was technically fifteen,” you frown. “And I… was at church.”
Rossi gestures at you with his coffee cup. “You step foot in a church, your shoes are going to start smoking.”
Your jaw drops. 
“Wow. I thought old people were supposed to be sweet. Come on, Spencer.”
Spencer knows better than to put up a fight as you get up and grab him by the hand not holding onto your cup and folder, dragging him to the bullpen to sit at your desk until the team is ready to go. 
He stands in front of you, hands in pockets, as you plop into your own chair. “I… can’t tell if you’re actually mad.”
“I am. At you. For not being on my side.”
Spencer sets his bag down and leans against the adjacent desk, arms folded. You stopped caring a long time ago if he’d notice you ogling the long, lithe lines of him. Maybe you never really cared, if you’re being honest with yourself. He’s a little harder to scandalize these days, anyway. But you’ll never stop trying. 
He bites his lip thoughtfully. 
“If you’re mad at me, why am I the one you dragged down here?”
“I’m not taking questions, Reid.”
He hisses. “Ouch. Reid.”
“Mhm. That’s how mad I am.”
“Okay, grouchy. Do you want a refill?”
You borderline pout, continuously perplexed by his kindness in the face of your insolence, but holding out your hollow cup for him anyway as you slouch lower in your seat. 
“Don’t call me grouchy.”
“Then don’t call me Reid,” he says, taking your cup as he passes, and you think you sense the faintest wash of amusement coloring his tone. 
The jet doesn’t do much to put pep in your step. 
“Aberdeen,” Morgan muses, letting his file closed on his lap. “Isn’t that where, uh, Kurt Cobain grew up?”
Spencer sits down in the chair next to you, setting the day’s third cup of coffee in front of you on the small table. “It is. It’s also where Washington’s first suspected serial killer William Gohl resided.”
“First of many,” Rossi amends. Reid nods. 
“In the US, Washington State comes in fifth place in terms of serial killers per capita. Some blame a widespread vitamin D deficiency. Just under eight hours of sunlight in the winter, the least in the contiguous United States.”
Emily gives an abhorrent rendition of a famous Nirvana riff, imitating a twangy electric guitar, before gesturing to your boss. “Hotch, you’re from Seattle. Did you ever get into Nirvana? The whole grunge scene?”
Hotch lowers his folder, giving her an unimpressed look. “Did you?”
While the exchange is amusing, the coffee is not perking you up and you’d like to be slightly less upright, if possible. You bump Spencer’s knee with your own, and he looks over at you obediently. 
“What’s up?”
“I wanna move to the couch.”
He nods and gets right back up. When you pass, and he doesn’t immediately follow, you turn around. Maybe the lack of sleep has rendered you unable to hide your look of contempt as he tries to sit back down. 
“What are you doing?”
Morgan snorts. “Uh oh. Lapdog almost forgot his training.”
“I am not a lapdog,” Spencer defends, giving Morgan a harsh look of his own, before following you, much to the amusement of the rest of the BAU. 
“Don’t listen to them,” you mutter as you step aside to let him pass. 
He settles into the corner of the couch. “I almost never do.” When you cozy up next to him, he seems surprised. “Um, hi?”
“I’m cold. You’re warm.”
“This is… unprofessional.”
You roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “Oh my god. They don’t care.”
That’s enough to shut him up. Eventually he relaxes, and though he doesn’t put his arm around you (they remain crossed in front of him) he doesn’t seem too distraught over the way you’re leaning against him, head on his shoulder. The sky is a soft grey where you can see it through the little rectangles lining the far wall, like a pale tea with plenty of milk. 
“What’s up with you, anyway?” He asks eventually, gingerly, and though he’s bold to ask it you know the last thing he means to do is offend. Luckily for him, he’s your soft spot. You let your eyes flutter shut against the boxes of diffuse light. 
“Tired.”
“I know that. You’ve had three cups of coffee and you’re still about to fall asleep.”
“Well… that’s all it was.”
“Mhm.”
“God, you’re—” you lift your head, about to give him a good old fashioned verbal lashing, but he’s so sweet looking, and he’s so kind to you even when he’s not, that you deflate—all your air coming out on a sigh as you settle back against him. “I… was… not home, when Hotch called me.”
“Yeah, you said you were at church?�� He sounds utterly bewildered. Your heart melts, and you can’t hide the fondness seeping from every pore as you look up at him through your lashes. He really is so beautiful. 
“That was a joke, Spence. I was with a friend.”
His brows knit and a faint blush tinges his cheeks. 
“Oh. I knew that.”
And he really is getting better at detecting your brand of sarcasm. One day you doubt you’ll be able to pull any over on him, and he’ll stop being so adorable and bashful and embarrassed and sweet all the time. You don't relish the thought.
“What were you doing this morning?” You ask, in a bid to quell the very embarrassment you covet, because you’re not actually a demon, despite what Rossi had implied earlier. 
“Sleeping.”
You hum. Imagine taking his hand. Don’t really take it. 
“Me ’nd you should hang out outside of work more often.”
“Like… in the mornings?”
“Uh, probably not,” you laugh, your own face heating at the implication he’s only sort of and undoubtedly accidentally making. “I mean—we could. We could have breakfast sometimes.”
“I like breakfast,” he muses. “I know a couple of good spots. I can show you when we get back. There are these ube pancakes that are like bright purple on the inside. Have you had ube? I think you’d like them. The pancakes and the tuber. They’re the same color as your laptop case.”
You giggle, too tired for anything more dignified and too charmed for anything less authentic. Spencer has a moment of apparent self-awareness and after a second chuckles along with you, and like 99% of your moments with him, it’s a nice one. 
It slowly fades, and you sigh. 
“We’d probably get called in right in the middle of breakfast.”
“It’s always a possibility,” Spencer agrees, and you feel him nod. He smells really nice—clean and sort of cedar-y. Warm. 
“You ever think about how we’re just… robot arms to do the bidding of the federal government? We’re not even people. We’re cyborgs.”
“I’d love to be a cyborg.”
“But then you wouldn’t be so warm and comfy.”
“If I were a cyborg I could install a heating element. I’d still be warm. I don’t know about comfy. Maybe if I kept the biomechatronics to one side of my torso.”
“You’d install a heating element just for me? So we could keep cuddling?”
He clears his throat. You smile to yourself. 
“Why are we cyborgs, exactly?”
“Because we don’t get personal lives. The job comes first. I could be doing anything. I could be in the middle of eating bright purple pancakes with my good friend and colleague Spencer Reid and it doesn’t matter. If we get called in we have to leave.”
“If we were in the middle of breakfast, we could just… take our food to go and finish it at our desks.”
“Well—I guess it would be different if it was us, but with my other friends… it’s kind of a bummer, sometimes.”
You’re thinking about the friend you left this morning. Nobody you’re particularly invested in, but you wonder if that friend is still asleep in bed—and you realize you don’t much care. You’re glad to be here, and not there. 
“I think if the job didn’t feel worth it to you, you would’ve left by now. But you haven’t. You can complain all you want, but you show up every day.”
You scoff. 
“Fifteen to 45 minutes late, depending on how you look at it.”
“That is… atypical. You’re usually on time.”
“Usually…” you repeat darkly. A moment passes. An uncomfortable insecurity begins to bloom and ache like a rotting tooth. “Can I ask you a serious question?”
Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “Of course.”
“Do you think…” you falter, unused to this kind of vulnerability. A cloud swallows the jet and the cabin darkens into a place for secrets. “Do you think I’m worth the trouble?”
You know Spencer senses the unease like a sheepdog can sense a storm from the way he perks up next to you. He’s always been like that—incredibly attuned to the moods of others. You hope he doesn’t think profiling is just another of many learned skills. It’s a genuine talent, a sort of savantism in its own right. You can’t imagine him doing anything else as passionately as he does his job. Sometimes it almost makes you insecure. 
“What trouble?”
“Like… Hotch having to call me half an hour earlier than he calls the rest of the team. Or you, accepting my constant teasing. I know I’m—I can be kind of a diva. I don’t always really feel as professional as you guys. Or… qualified, maybe.”
You can imagine the way he’d narrow his eyes as he thinks this over, though you’d still like to see it for yourself—but you keep your head on his shoulder. In a way, he’s already getting a closer look at you than you usually grant to anyone. 
“I think… you’re good at your job. And you care more than you’d like to admit. That thing you do—where you sometimes show up a few minutes late, or you piss Rossi off on purpose, or you flirt with Hotch—I think… we all have things like that. We all self-sabotage, because it’s a really hard job, and I think we all wonder if we’re really qualified for it, or deserve to be in these positions, or if we even want the responsibility of trying to save people’s lives. But you’re a genuinely good person and a gifted profiler. And everyone else knows it, too.”
The deep thrum of the jet’s engine blurs the rest of the team’s incomprehensible chatting and the pounding of your heart into one big muddied streak of paint. Hopefully Spencer can’t feel the heat of your cheek through his shirtsleeve. 
“Oh,” you murmur. 
A moment passes. 
It’s a relief when Spencer’s anxiety comes bubbling up before your own can. “Sorry, was that too much?”
“No,” you hurry, “no, it was—no. That was really really nice of you to say. Thank you, Spencer.”
He relaxes. “Well… it’s all true.”
How could anyone ever deserve him? How does anyone get lucky enough to know a man like Spencer Reid?
When you burst through the other side of the cloud, the sun has come out. It burns away the milky early morning fog and makes your eyes ache just enough to finally wake you up. You blink and stretch against him like a cat. 
“Spence?”
“Hm?”
“I just want to clarify… I don’t flirt with Hotch. I flirt with you.”
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coryosbaby · 8 months ago
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I am BEGGING you to write about hannigram x innocent fem reader. mayyyybee featuring age gap and breeding? :) she just asks them "what does break my belt mean?" and oh..
Caretaker… Hannigram x fem! Reader
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Synopsis: it’s up to Will and Hannibal to take care of you, however that may be.
Content warning . 18+, MDNI age gap (reader is in her early 20s), spanking/usage of belts, punishments, dumbification, threesome, cum play, daddy kink . hard dom! Hannibal, soft dom! Will
Author’s Note: I didn’t know how to go about this (my brain isn’t braining rn) so I did smth similar :) this is literally pure filth like Im ovulating sorry
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“You need to stop being so hard on yourself.”
Will’s voice is soft as he gently rubs your sock clad feet, watching the small wince that you make when he grazes over a bruised toe. You adjust yourself on your bed, bottom becoming numb from how long you’ve been sitting. You slide the sleeves of your dress back up on your shoulders— they have a hard time staying up, and it’s something that annoys you incredibly.
“He’s right,” Hannibal chimes from the cushioned seat in the corner of the room. He closes the book in his hand and sets it on the desk beside him. It’s funny, how different these two men look in your pink, frilly room. “You’re working yourself too hard, little one.”
You frown, feeling the bed dip as Hannibal joins you and Will’s side.
“But ballet is important to me.”
“So is your health,” Will replies, and notices the way you seem to fidget in your dress. “Is your dress bothering you, baby?”
You nod, heat creeping up your neck when Will lifts the hem of it over your head. Now clad in your bra and cotton panties, you feel open and exposed. But since it’s Hannibal and Will, you feel safer than you’ve ever been.
“Come here,” Will says, and you crawl over to the place in between his spread thighs as he leans against your headboard. Hannibal follows in quiet suit, moving to Will’s side and holding your hand in his much larger one. Will’s hands play with your hair as you think back to something you’d been wanting to ask the two for a while.
“Can one of you use your belt on me?”
The soft scrape against your scalp stops at the question.
“What?”
“I mean,” you mumble, cheeks flaring. “I was watching a video.. ‘n.. the guy, he—“
“You’ve been watching naughty videos?” Hannibal inquires. You shake your head, wide doe eyes flashing.
“No!” You reply, too quickly. “No, of course not.”
“Hmm,” the man shifts, gripping the soft skin of your jaw gently with his hand. Looking into your eyes, he can see the deceit in them. “You have, haven’t you? You know what we say about those videos, darling. They’re bad for you,” he looks back to the other man in the room. “Maybe we will have to spank her after all. Don’t you think, Will?”
“Play nice, Hannibal,” Will warns, though his mouth pulls into a small, amused smirk. “She’s sensitive. Probably doesn’t even know what she’s asking for.”
“I do.” you whine, pawing at the sleeve of Hannibal’s suit. He chuckles, thumb rubbing gently over your wrist.
“Come here then, little one,” Hannibal coos. “Over my knee.”
Your eyes widen, pouty lips dropping open in awe.
“Now?” You squeak.
Will rolls his eyes, patting you softly on the arm.
“You heard him, Bunny. Go on.”
Getting on your hands and knees, panty clad ass now revealing the puff ball bunny tail on the back of the fabric, the two of them think you’re the cutest little thing they’ve ever seen. You hear the sound of a belt buckle being undone, and watch as Will hands over his belt to Hannibal. It’s your favorite one, plain black but with a belt buckle that has your initials imprinted. Will wears it often— he’s not one to have flashy accessories, but since it was a gift from you he cherishes it dearly.
Since Will is on Hannibal’s left side, you decide to position yourself with your face directed towards him. This leads to your arms and face being smooshed against Will’s thighs, and he gently rubs your head with his hands. Hannibal hums when your ass lifts up for him, bunny tail flickering as you move your hips to get his attention.
“We should keep these on, don’t you think?” He says, fingers grazing over the bunny tail. “Too precious to pull them down, lover.”
You nod shyly, letting out a puff of air when Will’s fingers begin fumbling with the hooks on your bra. He advises you to slide the straps off your shoulders when he undoes them, and you awkwardly shuffle them off. Will’s hands move around your back to grope one of your breasts. The feeling of cold leather against your backside makes you whimper, and Hannibal positions his hand on the bottom of your thigh.
“Move your hands behind your back,” Hannibal demands. “You aren’t in any position of control. If you want to stop, you know the rules.”
“Yes, daddy,” you reply, almost immediately. You move your arms back to link them together, Will’s hands gripping the both of yours tightly to make sure you don’t move.
“Good girl,” and then, “You’re going to count each one I give you. We will stop at ten since this is your first time.”
You nod, as much as you can with your face buried in Will’s lap. You can feel the hardness in his pants, right up against your cheek, and your mouth waters.
There’s a comforting rub against your left cheek before Hannibal brings the belt down. It isn’t too bad, a slight sting that makes you jump.
“One.” You say, quietly. Your ass lifts up for more.
“Good,” Hannibal praises, soothing the skin once more. “Are you going to watch those videos again?”
You stay silent, contemplating but also being quiet on purpose. You can’t deny that Hannibal getting angry with you makes your panties drenched.
At this, Hannibal slams the belt down onto you once again. A warning. You cry out this time, feeling a burning sensation along your skin.
“Don’t make me ask you again,” he says sternly. “And don’t make me have to break my belt on you, little one.”
“What does that mean?” you whine, ditzy little head genuinely confused by such a simple term. You inhale the scent of Will’s pants, and from above you, the brunette’s hands gently soothe your back.
“Told you, Hanni,” he singsongs. “Doesn’t even know what she’s asking for.”
“Ignoring your interruption,” Hannibal says, annoyed (but not really). He directs his attention back to you. “Tell me, little one. Yes or no?”
You bite your lower lip, cheeks flaring as your arousal increases.
“Yes.”
Hannibal scoffs.
“You’re asking for it, aren’t you?”
The belt comes down on you again. You jump, tears beginning to pool along your waterline.
“What was that?” Hannibal demands harshly. “Was that a yes that I heard?”
“No!” You say. “No, daddy, I’ll never ever watch those videos again! I promise, promise…”
You thrash against the pain, and Hannibal’s palms rub the sore skin.
“Alright,” he replies. “but I’m adding five more. Naughty girls who don’t listen get punished.”
“Hannibal,” Will warns. “She’s fragile.”
“She’s a brat, is what she is, Will. Stop defending her,” Hannibal’s hands wrap around your hair, pulling your teary eyed face up and craning your neck. “Now count. Starting from three.”
The belt comes down again, and your hands ache, along with your bottom.
“T-Three.” You say. The belt comes down on you again, and again. You count to five.
“You really need to be harder on her,” Hannibal says to Will, who’s subtly grinding against your face as he watches you writhe below him. “She needs to learn that her actions have consequences.”
“I know,” Will sighs, then gently taps the tip of your nose, and smiles softly. “But look at how precious she is.”
Hannibal rolls his eyes, bringing out the sixth then seventh hit. You can already feel the blooming of bruises by the time you hit number ten, and your aching pussy grinds down into Hannibal’s thigh. He seems to allow this, and by the twelfth hit, he’s teasing you about it.
“Is this arousing you, lover?” He asks, amused. “You only have three more to go. You better enjoy it.”
“Mm, she is,” Will cuts in, reaching down between your legs to feel your soaked panties. “Little pussy is so wet,” and then, “You ruined your panties, pup.”
Mewling, you allow another smack to come down onto your ass.
“T-Thirteen,” you whimper out. “Could.. could you buy me some new panties, Will?”
Another smack. Another number. Will tilts his head, staring at your panty clad ass.
“Mm,” he replies. “I don’t know, Hannibal. What do you think?” His fingers grasp the puff ball tail and tug it up. This makes your panties ride up in between your folds, and you gasp, humiliated. “I think baby blue would really suit her.”
“That, or lilac,” the eldest man replies. “We’ll get you a new set, little one. But only because it benefits us as much as it benefits you.”
You smile, giddy with excitement to take another shopping trip. Hannibal rubs your ass again, and Will kisses you on the head.
“One more for us, alright?”
You nod, perky ass throbbing with heat. Hannibal slams the belt down, and this time you let out a sob. It was the harshest hit, one sure to leave a welt or two. Hannibal coos when he sees your look of pain, throwing the belt to the side and gently massaging you.
“Shhh. It’s alright. Come here, darling.”
You maneuver your body to slide in between Hannibal’s legs, pulling him into a hug. His arms wrap around your smaller form, and he kisses your hair, allowing you to bury your face into his shoulder. You let out a few more stray tears while he and Will both soothe the ache on your bottom.
“You know we only do this because we have to.” Hannibal murmurs.
“I know, daddy.”
“Actions have consequences, and you asked for this sort of punishment. So we decided to give it to you,” he explains, and pulls away to wipe away your tears with his thumbs. “Did you enjoy it?”
You nod, a small smile grazing your lips.
“I did. I enjoyed it a lot.”
“Good,” he replies. “And since you’ve taken your punishment so well, I’m giving you the opportunity to ask for something. Whatever you want, you can have it.”
Your eyes brighten.
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
You lick your lips, contemplating your options with excitement.
“Hmm,” you say, and then finally come to your decision. You look over to your second boyfriend, who seems to be watching you with an almost love struck gaze. “I want Will… want his mouth. Please?”
Will licks his lips at the statement. Oral is one of his favorite things to give.
“Very well,” Hannibal says, then gestures for Will. “She can lay in between my legs. You lay between hers.”
Will nods, and you happily turn around and begin sliding off your panties. Spreading your legs, you look up at Will with doe eyes as he approaches you. His lips touch yours, sliding easily against the expanse of your mouth. When he pulls away, the scent of your arousal overtakes his senses. He groans, moving down in between your legs.
Hannibal’s big arms wrap around your shoulders, keeping you still. Will flawlessly licks a stripe up your slit, making you whimper and hold onto Hannibal for dear life as he begins to eat you like a man starved. His mouth works wonders against your tiny hole and aching clit as he groans into your cunt, drinking your sweet juices like it’s nectar of the Gods.
“How does she taste?” Hannibal asks, even though he already knows the answer. He loves to go down on you just as much as the other man.
Will pulls away, chin dripping and hair disheveled.
“So fuckin’ sweet,” he gasps out, nosing at your folds. His thumbs spread them apart, exposing your hole that’s coated in creamy slick. “Cutest fuckin’ cunt I’ve ever seen.”
You clench, letting him see the opening and closing of your hole. You want him to stick his tongue back inside.
You don’t have to wait long for that, because a mere second later Hannibal’s big hand splays across the back of Will’s head and pushes him back down. Will lets out a moan at this, allowing Hannibal to guide his head up and down and every which way that brings you closer and closer to your peak. Hannibal smirks, watching the way you writhe under his tongue and watch Will with hungry, lidded eyes.
“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” He says, and you can feel his hardness pressing against your back.
Drool seeps down your chin as you nod.
“Mhm..” you whine out. Your hands go to the boy’s hair, and he whimpers when you tug on the strands.
“He likes when you do that,” Hannibal observes, his tone low. He kisses the shell of your ear. “Do it again.”
You comply, watching the way Will’s hips grind down into the mattress when it happens and the way Hannibal lets out a heavy breath. Will’s mouth works harder, bringing your clit in between his lips and lightly sucking. You gasp out his name, hips moving against him in tandem.
“Will, Daddy.. ‘m so close..”
“Close, yes?” Hannibal taunts, and his grip around your throat tightens. His biceps practically squeeze your neck as you near closer and closer to your high, your throat gasping for breath. When your orgasm overtakes you, Hannibal loosens his grip, but not quite. You let out a raw, pleasure filled moan when you cum, Will working you through until the point of overstimulation, your legs shaking and your sock clad feet pushing on his shoulders. He chuckles when he pulls away, a pleased grin forming as he wipes his slick coated mouth on the back of his wrist. And boy, is it a sight. He licks up the remaining remnants of your arousal with his tongue, hands splaying on either side of you and Hannibal’s legs so he can move up and kiss you filthily on the mouth. Hannibal is next, a tender peck that makes the cock against your lower back twitch. It has him licking his lips when Will pulls away, his lashes fluttering as he sighs in content. He presses a kiss to your mouth, too, and relaxes even further.
It’s only a mere moment of rest before you can feel that familiar throb again, and the sight of your two boys bulging through their pants makes you drool. You spread your legs, overstimulated pussy on full display.
Will, who had been laying at the foot of the bed in front of the both of you, watches with hunger. You lean away from Hannibal, instead turning yourself on your knees and presenting yourself to Will, who’s already positioning himself behind you eagerly. Hannibal, the most patient out of all three of you, no doubt, finally takes his aching cock out of his pants and wraps a hand around himself at the scene. You hear the rustling of Will’s fly being undone, then his length is pressed against your ass and wet, oh so wet, even when he slides it in between your folds and sheathes himself inside your little hole with one swift movement. Your mouth drops open at the sensation of being filled, your hands finding purchase on Hannibal’s thick thighs in front of you. His cock is hitting his stomach, red and leaking drops of precum down the tip, and you watch as Hannibal rubs it up and down with his hand. You look up at him pleadingly as Will begins to pound you into the mattress.
“You want daddy’s cock in your mouth, is that it?” Hannibal teases, and you nod. He sighs, directing the tip of his cock towards you. “Open wide, sweet girl.”
You happily obey, tongue lolling out to lick at his tip, his stringy precum sticking to your bottom lip and the head of his cock, tasting absolutely divine. Will’s hands roam over your ass as his cock bullies your gummy walls.
“Mm, Hanni got you good, didn’t he, baby?” He says, examining the marks. “Gonna have to put some lotion on that later.”
The use of the nickname in Will’s mouth is a mockery of your own. You nod, however, pouting.
“Mhm. But Daddy knows what’s best for me.”
“That’s right,” Hannibal grunts out, when you take him fully down your throat. “Dumb little girls like you can’t think for themselves. That’s why you need Will and I to take care of you,” and then, “God, darling, your mouth is just perfect.”
You hum, choking on him. Will’s fingers bruise your hips now, his balls slapping against your ass with every harsh thrust. Your pussy quakes around him, clamping down on his length. His breath is warm against your ear as he pushes in and out of you.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby..” as he watches your ass bounce back against him.
“Look at that tight little pussy, practically choking my dick.” as he spreads your cheeks apart, watching the way you take him.
“Hannibal’s cock tastes good, doesn’t it?” As you come up for air and gasp, drool soaking your neck and chin.
You can feel when he gets close by the way his hips stutter, and with a lewd whine hes babbling endlessly.
“I’m gonna cum,” he says. “Gonna cum in this slut pussy— god, squeeze me just like that.”
“Please,” you whimper endlessly, and you can hear Hannibal let out a breathy chuckle.
“She wants it. She wants you to cum in her cunt,” his voice drops an octave as he watches the boy. “Come on. I need something to lubricate her more once I get my turn, don’t I?”
“Oh—“
Will’s eyes roll back, his body tensing up as he finally releases inside her. She clenches down on him, milking him for all he’s worth as he shoots rope after rope deep inside her gaping pussy. Hannibal’s fingers nestle into the boy’s hair as he rides out his orgasm, gently twirling the soft locks in between his fingers. You watch with your mouth turned into an o, burying yourself deeper against Hannibal’s chest in retaliation.
“There you go,” Hannibal coos when Will sighs against your chest, spent. “Good boy.”
“Tease,” Will mumbles back to him, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. His eyes look up at you and he smiles. “Are you okay?”
You giggle, nodding your head.
“More than okay.”
He looks down at the mess between your thighs as he pulls out, grunting. A trail of his spend pools out of you and onto the sheets.
His fingers begin to move up to your drenched clit— you need release to, after all, and Will is never a selfish lover—but before he can, Hannibal’s hand grabs his wrist.
“No,” he utters. “Let me, once I’m inside her.”
“Like I said,” Will grumbles, moving out from between your legs to settle back against the headboard. “Tease.”
Hannibal rolls his eyes, guiding you to turn around and face him. You bite your lower lip at the feeling of Will’s cum trailing down your thighs. Hannibal undoes his belt, pulling down his zipper so his pants are open and his briefs are exposed.
“Take me out, darling.”
She reaches into the waistband of his underwear, pulling his length out and giving it a few languid strokes. Will watches, his spent cock twitching against his stomach. He ignores it, instead deciding to move to your side and press a kiss to your heated cheek. His hand provides a comforting pressure to the back of your head as he settles it in your hair. Hannibal tilts his head, grabbing the back of your thighs and pulling you into his lap.
“Put my cock inside you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Be a good girl.”
Your lashes flutter at the vulgar term spilling from the usually polite man’s lips. Will’s hands scrape against your scalp and your brain is fuzzy with how good it all feels. Grabbing Hannibal’s length in your hand, you position your dripping cunt over the tip of his cock.
Sinking down makes your brows furrow. Hannibal isn’t as big as Will, but that isn’t saying much. The man still has a considerable size, and his girth stretches your gummy walls exceptionally. You whimper, settling down to the very base of his cock. Hannibal’s head tilts back and hits the headboard, his eyes squeezing shut to get used to the sensation of you wrapped around him. His big hands splay across your hips and Will nuzzles your throat affectionately.
“Daddy.” you whine, your little pussy beginning to rock onto Hannibal.
“Yes?”
“Fuck me, please?”
He smiles, pulling you further against him so he can brace his feet underneath you. His cock gives a few shallow thrusts, getting used to your heat, before moving into more dangerous territory. It isn’t long before he’s jackhammering into you, your head tilted back by Will’s big hands. He demands you open your mouth, and you do. A glob of spit lands on your tongue, which you swallow greedily. Hannibal groans as he watches the scene.
“Filthy little things,” he mutters, pulling you into a kiss. You both share Will’s saliva on your intertwining tongues.
Your thighs shake as Hannibal’s cock and balls leak with Will’s cum. The sound is utterly sinful— the gushing sounds of his cock pummeling your filled pussy, his balls slapping against your ass, the sobs tearing through your throat. Tears stream down your cheeks and you’re sobbing.
Hannibal’s fingers reach down to your clit, deftly rubbing against the swollen nub exactly the way you like. It isn’t long before you reach your peak, your pussy clenching down as a string of filthy words makes its way out of your throat, burying your face in Hannibal’s white button down and staining it with salty tears. Will is an absolute sweetheart, guiding your hips with his hands to help you, cooing little sweet sayings in your ear. He cakes your throat in pretty red marks.
Hannibal draws closer to his orgasm, small grunts and heavy breaths spilling out of his mouth. It isn’t long before he empties inside you, filling you up with a second load of sticky, white cum. He pulls your limp body off of his length, your pussy making a gushing sound as both of your boyfriend’s dribble out of you. The two men sigh when they see it, their cocks both twitching at the sight.
But all three of you have had enough for the day— or at least for the next few hours. Hannibal disappears out of the room for a moment to bring back a glass of water and lotion. He holds the water to your lips and sweetly coos, “you’ve been such an obedient girl. Drink, okay?”
You do, of course. You drink the whole damn glass.
After going into the bathroom to pee and wipe your cum covered thighs, Hannibal lotions your sore bottom with gentle hands. After this you finally crawl back into bed, moving onto your stomach and hugging your pillow tightly. Will chuckles.
“You don’t want a bubble bath?” He asks, because that’s usually what you request. But you just shake your head, your eyes fluttering shut. Not asleep, but almost. Will nods his head. “Later then, sweet girl.”
The boy crawls to your side, wrapping his big arm around you and pulling you to his side. Hannibal soon joins, his tie loosened and jacket off, pants unbuttoned. It’s rare to see him in such a messy state, relaxed. Only you and Will can help him unwind like this.
He lays on his back, and you lay your head on his chest, inhaling his strong, expensive cologne. Beside you, you can smell the aftershave that Will wears— Hannibal teases him about it, but you’re quite fond of it. It smells like home.
They smell like home.
You smile sleepily, watching with barely open eyes as Hannibal and Will’s hands connect over you. As you fall into a peaceful sleep, the two men on either side of you stay wide awake.
After a moment, Will chuckles.
“So I’m assuming we’ll be using my belt more often?”
“Guaranteed,” hannibal confirms, watching you drool onto his shirt in your sleep. He never mentions it to you because he doesn’t want you to be embarrassed. “Perhaps we can use it on you next time, Will”
The younger man scoffs, his cheeks flaring as he buries his face into your hair.
“Shut up, Hanni.”
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:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @wildgirllz
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moechies · 2 months ago
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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…
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“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."
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white-poppie · 9 months ago
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Tsukishima Kei believes subtle actions speak louder than words ⎯ especially in relationships.
To anyone Kei would seem aloof and cold, but you know that he cares from his little gestures. The way he gently squeezes your hand to reassure you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, that little relieved smile that makes way on his face when you drop by during his practice sometimes. Him mindlessly massaging your calves ⎯ your legs sprawled over his as he lets you watch whatever sappy romance you want watch when you whine about your day being so bad.
Tsukishima who freezes when you move closer on the couch and peck his cheek during the movie. His surprise slowly dissolves on his face, making way for a soft smirk as he turns his head and looks at you.
"Was that necessary?" he asks, his words almost accusatory, but his tone and expression is relaxed.
"Nope, but I'm trying to get you used to affection." you say softly.
He snorts at your words, “So, you’re planning to slowly brainwash me to become the ideal boyfriend? Or what?"
"I am trying to brainwash you into being utterly in love with me, the ideal girlfriend." you chuckle, rotating your pointer finger in front of his face. "Wish Woosh, Hocus Pocus. Tsukishima Kei will love me forever."
Although he tries keeps up his serious expression, but it turns more into a smile as a wide grin spreads across his face at your silly action.
"You actually want me to say it? That I love you?" He asks, "Is that what the game is?" he rolls his eyes and shakes his head in amusement.
"Maybe?" you whisper out softly and look at him with those hopeful eyes of yours that make him melt.
Tsukishima is silent, just looking at you calmly in a way that makes your heart raise with excitement and trepidation togther.
"Am I making you uncomfortable?" you ask softly and he sighs, shaking his head, his eyes softening.
"Of course not, its just...I am not used to it?" He says and you listen to him intently, nodding, urging him to continue. "I just...I don't know, it makes me feel so vulnerable saying it." He utters.
"I just feel like what the point of saying it, when I already express it through other ways, you know?" he says, running his fingers through your hair, calmly. Thats how he loves you.
"I know. you murmur, "I just like hearing you say it." You hum with a pause, looking at him, trying to gauge his reaction. "You don't have to say it if you don't want to, its just that it makes it feel so much real when I hear it..."
Tsukishima smiles, lightly. Thats what he loves about you. You have these ways of making him feel utterly speechless and you do this so effortlessly.
"Okay." he says, his ears getting a tiny bit red. You want to point it out, but you bite your tongue to not ruin the moment.
"I love you." he says, his hand resting over your head and a you can't help the bright smile that makes its way on your face. Hearing it out of his mouth almost makes you flustered. You can't help but giggle and bury your face in his chest.
"I love you too."
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- FANFICTIONS  —HAIKYU!!
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incognit0slut · 2 months ago
Text
Doctor Reid
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PART 2 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST
Established Relationship Your boyfriend finally agrees to indulge in your fantasy by playing a very different kind of doctor, but on his own terms.
Content: (18+) 4k, roleplay, lingerie, finger sucking, nipple play, fingering, female oral, edging, soft!dom as per usual and him being what you guys like to call ‘a little shit’ a/n: season 12 Spencer can stay between my thighs all day every day. also, i have no knowledge on any medical terms this is just ✨vibes✨
10:34 AM
The box was heavier than you’d expected. It had been weeks since you’d ordered it—weeks of wondering if this would even get here without some awkward explanation. You’d agonized over every little detail, scrolling through pages of different costumes, wondering which stethoscope looked the most real.
And now it was finally here.
You didn’t waste a second. Your fingers worked quickly, ripping through the tape and cardboard until the contents spilled out. A crisp, folded white coat with perfectly pressed lapels and a stethoscope. And it was a real one, with cool metal tubing that felt heavy and authentic in your hand. Everything looked even better than you’d imagined.
You barely took the time to fold back the box flaps before hurrying to the next room, where your boyfriend sat comfortably on the couch, idly thumbing through a book.
“Spencer!” Your voice practically sang in excitement. “It’s here!”
He glanced up and lowered his book. "What's here?"
You grinned, bouncing on your toes as you closed the distance between you. "The doctor is officially in," you declared, holding up the white coat like a trophy, the stethoscope dangling from your other hand.
You watched as realization dawned across his face as he blinked a few times, processing the items in your hands, before letting out a soft, amused huff.
"Wow," he said slowly. "You really went all out."
"Of course I did,” you affirmed, grinning from ear to ear as you held the coat up to his chest, sizing him up as though he were already playing the part. “And it’s perfect.”
He leaned back into the couch, trying to put some distance between him and your infectious enthusiasm. “You know I’m not much of an actor.”
“Baby,” you drawled out, emphasizing the pet name with that affectionate tone you knew worked like a charm on him. It was the same sweet voice you used when you wanted something, the kind that could coax just about anything from him. “You’re not trying to win the Oscars, it’s sex. I promise you’ll like it.”
He shook his head like he was the most put-upon boyfriend in the world, letting out a mock sigh of exasperation, though the faint smile playing at the corners of his lips betrayed him. He closed his book and set it aside.
“Fine, I’ll do it,” he said at last, dragging the word out as though it physically pained him to say it. “If we do this on my own terms.”
“Your own terms? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’ll see. And,” he reached out, pinching the collar of the coat between his fingers. “I’m not wearing that.”
You pouted. “What, you don’t want to look like a real doctor?”
“I think I can pull it off without the costume.” He flashed you a smile. “I’m technically still a doctor.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “Your multiple doctorates don’t exactly qualify you for this, Doctor Reid.”
“I thought having six degrees would be enough for anything.”
“Too bad none of them is needed now,” you shot back, poking a finger at his chest playfully. “The role I’m thinking of requires a different kind of expertise. More…” You paused, pretending to mull it over, “Hands-on. Less theoretical.”
The laugh he let out was short and incredulous, his eyebrows raising as if he couldn’t believe your persistence. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”
You sighed dramatically. “Babyyyy.”
“You know, one of these days that tone isn’t going to work on me.”
“Oh, please, you love it,” you taunted, leaning in closer. “And don’t act like you’re not curious about this.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, and you could practically see the wheels turning in his head, weighing the pros and cons, debating just how far he’d let you push him. And then there it was, that spark in his eyes. Faint but undeniable—the one that told you he was already half convinced, even if he pretended otherwise.
“Alright, fine,” he finally conceded. “I’ll play along.”
The grin you wore was at least a mile wide as you shoved the stethoscope into his hand.
1:52 PM
“Okay. I’m ready.”
Spencer looked up from his stack of papers, and as soon as he saw you standing there, dressed in nothing but lacy lingerie that clung to every curve, his mouth fell open. He blinked, trying to process the sight. Because yes, while you looked incredibly sexy, he was still baffled.
“Since when does a patient wear... that?"
You stepped closer, letting his eyes follow your every move as you shrugged with a hint of feigned innocence in your smile. "Well, I thought I'd save you some time, you know? Make it easier for your examination."
"Mm-hmm," he hummed thoughtfully, tapping a finger against his desk. "I'm not so sure this is standard procedure. I think you might be bending the rules here."
"Maybe. But I'm sure Doctor Reid can make a special exception, right?“
You shifted slightly, arching your back just enough to draw his attention. His eyes dropped to your chest, and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat as he noticed the way your nipples strained against the sheer, barely-there fabric of your lingerie. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile, but it broke through anyway. A slow, knowing grin spread across his face.
“Of course,” he finally replied. “I think I can be persuaded.”
With that, he leaned forward, sweeping his documents to the side in one smooth motion, before patting the now-cleared space on the desk in front of him.
“Take a seat, Miss,” he said, his voice turning low and authoritative that lit a spark of excitement inside you. “Let’s get started.”
You bit your bottom lip, fighting back a grin as the cool wood of the desk pressed against the backs of your thighs. You watched Spencer stand up and slip between your legs, his hands finding your knees and spreading them just enough to close the distance until the heat of his body was flushed against yours.
“So, tell me,” he started, his voice lowering as he fell into the role. “What seems to be the problem today?”
A flutter of nerves danced in your stomach, and suddenly you were very aware of what was happening. You’d initiated this—had begged for it, even—but it was something entirely different now that Spencer was towering over you. The confidence you’d felt earlier wavered for just a moment as his palms ran slowly up your thighs.
“I, uh,” your voice faltering slightly as his hands continued their slow journey. “I… I haven’t been feeling well.”
His fingers brushed lightly against the frills of your lingerie, teasing the lace between his fingers as he maintained eye contact. “Any symptoms I should know about? Dizziness? Shortness of breath?”
You nodded, heart pounding in your chest as his thumb traced small circles over the fabric. “All of the above.”
“I see.” His eyes flickered down to your lips. “Can you open your mouth for me?”
Slowly, you parted your lips, and the moment you did, Spencer’s hand came up to your chin. He tilted your head back gently, exposing the graceful line of your throat.
“I’m going to run a few tests now.” He paused, his thumb brushing lightly over your bottom lip. “It might feel intense, but I need you to stay relaxed and follow my instructions. Can you do that, Miss?”
You nodded as best as you could, mouth still open, and he gave you a small, approving smile.
“Stick your tongue out for me, just a little bit.”
You followed his instructions, extending your tongue just far enough to meet his touch. His eyes gleamed with focus as he brought his thumb to your mouth, pressing it lightly against your tongue.
“Hm,” he hummed, his eyes still fixed on your mouth like he was about to make a serious diagnosis. “I think I might be starting to see the problem here. But I need to check one more thing. Can you close your mouth around my finger?”
You complied, your lips wrapping around his thumb, feeling the rough pad of it pressing down on your tongue.
“Good,” he sighed, the approval in his voice like a reward in itself. “Now try giving it a gentle suck.”
You could feel the tension rising in you. Your cheeks hollowed as you did what he asked, and you couldn’t help but think back to the hesitation in his voice earlier, the way he’d claimed he wasn’t sure about this, that he wasn’t good at playing roles. You would’ve laughed if your mouth wasn’t occupied.
But you were an obedient patient, after all. You started sucking lightly, feeling the weight of his thumb resting against your tongue. There was something undeniably arousing about how he watched you, eyes heavy with focus, and that steady weight of his finger as he pretended to assess your reaction.
The first rush of arousal made itself known between your legs. You gradually increased the pressure, and before you knew it, you were bobbing your head. But just as you fell into a steady rhythm, his hand tightened on your chin to stop you.
“Just as I suspected,” he murmured after a moment, pulling his thumb away slightly to speak. “You’re suffering from an acute sensitivity.”
You swallowed, eyes wide as you played along, trying to keep your composure despite the heat pooling low in your stomach. “Is… is that serious?”
“I’ll need to do a further examination to understand the extent of your condition,” he mused, his eyes flickering between your face and your body as if assessing you before he straightened up slightly. “Let’s check your vitals now.”
He reached behind you, fingers brushing your lower back as he grabbed the stethoscope that had been sitting on the desk all day, the one you’d practically begged him to use. His expression turned serious, as though he were truly diagnosing you, and he leaned in close, pressing the flat side of the stethoscope against the pulse point on your neck.
“Deep breaths,” he instructed softly. You inhaled sharply, feeling the tension coil tighter in your chest as the cool metal made contact with your skin. “Your heart rate is definitely elevated.”
He moved the stethoscope lower, brushing it along your collarbone, before pressing it just above your heart. You felt the thump, thump, thump of your pulse echo through the metal.
“Definitely fast,” he noted. “We might need to find out what’s causing such a reaction.”
And before you could respond, without warning, he moved the stethoscope lower, pressing the cold metal against your nipple. You let out a soft, involuntary moan as the sensation caught you off guard.
“Ah,” he muttered, tilting his head as if he were genuinely analyzing your response, his thumb grazing the lace-covered peak around the stethoscope. “I think we’ve found one of the pressure points.”
You watched as his fingers trailed up to the edge of your lingerie, dragging his knuckles along the lace before he tugged the fabric down, letting your breast spill free. Without a word, he pressed the stethoscope directly against your bare nipple. The sudden contact made you jolt, your back arching as a quiet whimper slipped from your lips, and your nipple hardened instantly under the cold metal.
“Heightened sensitivity to stimuli.” He moved the stethoscope in small circles. “Very, very responsive.”
His eyes flickered down as he used his free hand to tug down the other side of your lingerie, exposing your other breast. You tried to keep your cool, tried to pretend like his touch wasn’t turning you inside out, but it was getting harder by the second. And God, he knew it. The way he played with your other nipple, rolling it slowly between his thumb and forefinger like he had all the time in the world, was enough to make your thoughts scatter.
You tried so hard to keep your composure, but then he gently pinched and tugged on your sensitive nub, and a soft, breathy whine escaped your lips before you could stop it. With a satisfied grin, he pulled away.
You blinked, momentarily dazed. “What—?” you breathed out. “Why did you stop?”
“Medical procedure,” he said simply, his tone so casual it almost made you forget the heat of his touch moments earlier. “It’s important to give the patient time to stabilize.”
You shot him a bewildered, almost exasperated look that said are you serious right now? But he just smiled that slow, self-assured smile of his. He was clearly enjoying this far too much.
“We’re doing this my way, remember?”
You huffed in mock annoyance. “Really? That’s how we’re playing this?”
He brushed his lips on your shoulder. “That’s how we’re playing."
5:22 PM
“Doctor Reid?”
Spencer glanced up from where he was pouring himself a cup of coffee. He raised an eyebrow, casually stirring a hefty amount of sugar, the spoon clinking softly against the mug. “Hmm?”
The coolness of the counter pressed against your back as you watched him. “I think it’s getting worse.”
He didn’t say anything right away, just let his gaze rake over you, taking note of the way the thin fabric of your lingerie clung to your skin.
“Worse, how?” he finally asked, setting his mug down.
“It’s… spreading.”
“Spreading?” He mused. “Where, exactly?”
“Everywhere.” Your fingers nervously toyed with the hem of your lingerie, lifting it just enough to show a glimpse of bare skin beneath. “I really need your help, Doctor.”
His eyes immediately zeroed in on the sliver of skin you revealed. You watched as the realization flashed across his face. The corner of his mouth twitched as though he was fighting back a satisfied smirk, and you knew then that he’d taken the bait—he had to confirm just how bare you really were.
“Come here,” he ordered softly. He stepped back from the counter just enough to make space. “If it’s spreading, I have to conduct a full-body assessment.”
You slowly made your way to him with shaky legs.
“Up,” he instructed, giving the counter a gentle pat before letting his hands settle on your hips. “Sit.”
The cool marble touched the backs of your thighs as you hoisted yourself up. Then, without warning, Spencer’s hands were on your legs. He grabbed your calves, and before you could even catch your breath, he maneuvered your knees apart, placing the palms of your feet flat onto the countertop.
His eyes dropped between your legs, and the sight of you completely bare, your pussy lips glistening under the dim light, confirmed what he’d suspected. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip as he took in every detail, the way you were flushed, open, and dripping.
“Is there a reason,” he began slowly, his voice dropping to that dangerously soft, detached tone. “Why you’re not wearing anything underneath?”
“I… I thought it might make the examination easier.”
He smiled. “How considerate.”
Then with painstaking slowness, Spencer used both thumbs to part your folds, spreading you open completely to his gaze. It was almost clinical, the way he did it, as if he were studying you like some fascinating experiment. And it was working. You could feel the heat of embarrassment rushing in your veins. God, he had you spread open like this in your kitchen counter, and all you could think was how absolutely shameless this was.
He took his time, of course. Because why wouldn’t he? Spencer Reid didn’t rush experiments. No, he would spend all the time in the world analyzing, learning, committing every detail to memory. And right now, that focus was on you. He dragged his fingertips through your arousal, spreading it leisurely over your folds like he was testing its consistency, as if that slick heat was something he could measure and quantify.
And all you could do was hold your breath.
“I have to say,” he started again, his voice low and taunting as his fingers slid back and forth slowly, grazing just over your entrance without actually dipping inside. “You’re overly lubricated. Are you always like this?”
You exhaled a long breath, trying to steady the rapid rhythm of your heart. “Y-Yes.”
Spencer's smile deepened, his gaze never leaving your face as he pressed just a bit harder, testing your reaction. “Interesting. Do you get this wet from just a little touch, or does it have to be… more?”
“J-Just a little,” you admitted, hips instinctively shifting toward his fingers.
“Mmm,” he hummed approvingly, and finally—finally—he let his finger slide just inside your entrance, only to stop right there, buried to the first knuckle. He didn’t move any further. “Is that all it takes? Or do you need more to truly feel the effects?”
“I...” You let out a whimper when his finger twitched inside you. "M-More."
“And how much more, exactly? One finger? Two?”
“Two,” you gasped, every coherent thought slipping away under his touch. “Two… Doctor.”
A satisfied smile tugged at his lips, and without another word, he obliged, slipping a second finger inside you. The stretch made you bite back a moan as you felt every inch of him dragging against your inner walls. You couldn’t help the way your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers, pulling him deeper as your slick arousal coated every thrust.
“You’re even more responsive than I thought,” he noted, adjusting his angle to brush against that sensitive spot inside you. “Your partner must enjoy this… a lot.”
He was playing his role all too well. Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter as his speed picked up. "He... He does," you breathed out. "He—he loves it."
Spencer hummed thoughtfully. "Good," he said softly, almost as if to himself. "Because this is a very special condition that requires a great deal of attention. And I'm sure that you need all the attention you can get, don't you?"
“Yes,” you sighed, nodding frantically as the pleasure built in steady waves. “I… I need it.”
"I thought so. Patients with your symptoms typically respond very well to intensive treatment."
With that, his fingers began to thrust deeper, faster, harder. The sensation of his long fingers stretching you had you moaning as you felt every drag, every inch while he continued to work you open. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more intense, he pressed a thumb firmly against your clit.
“Oh, fuck.”
He circled your swollen nub in slow, delicious patterns, and your body clenched around his fingers. This was it. You could feel it. The way your pulse pounded in your ears, the heat pooling deep in your core, every sensation building higher and higher. You could feel that sweet, sweet edge approaching, so close you could practically taste it—
And then he stopped.
Everything. Stopped.
“Spencer!”
He didn’t flinch, didn’t rush to soothe the ache in your body. He simply slid his fingers out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing.
“Open your mouth.”
You parted your lips, and he slipped his fingers inside, letting you taste yourself. The mix of your own slick and the heat of his skin made you moan softly, your tongue swirling around his fingers
“You see, you can be very responsive,” he commented in a low, measured tone. “But I think we should take a break, rushing the treatment would only compromise the results.”
He said it like it was the most reasonable thing in the world, like he wasn’t purposefully doing this to drive you insane. You wanted to laugh, and you did. But it was a defeated, breathless sort of laugh around his fingers, because you knew the man settled between your thighs still held all the power over you.
08:56 PM
“Babe?”
He laughed softly, not even glancing up from the book he was reading. “No more Doctor?”
You ignored the amusement in his voice as you walked up to the bed where he lay sprawled out, so casually composed, flipping another page like he hadn’t spent the entire day driving you mad. You reached the edge of the mattress, shadow casting over him, and his eyes finally flicked up to meet yours.
“I wanna cum.”
Spencer’s smile widened, the kind that made your stomach flip with both excitement and irritation, and he placed the book down beside him. His hand reached out lazily to brush your thigh.
“Yeah?” he drawled, tilting his head to the side. “Does my sweet girl want to be taken care of?”
You nodded eagerly. “Please.”
“Well, I do like it when you ask nicely,” he muttered, one hand sliding up to grip your waist. “And you’ve been very patient all day.”
“I have.”
“I think you deserve it.”
“I do.”
He let out an amused laugh. “Alright, lay down on the bed.”
You didn’t hesitate. You quickly shifted, lying back against the pillows. Spencer’s hands were on you immediately, gripping your thighs and dragging you toward the edge of the mattress. The room spun for a moment when he settled onto his knees. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, his fingers squeezing your calf as he pressed a soft, teasing kiss against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
“Comfortable?”
You nodded, and just as the breath left your lungs, his fingers brushed against the slick, wet folds of your pussy. He traced the outline of your lips gently, gathering the moisture that had been building all day.
“Poor baby,” he cooed sympathetically, his breath ghosting over your wetness. And just when you thought you couldn’t take another moment of teasing, he pressed his tongue flat against you and licked a long strip from your entrance to your clit.
A desperate whine escaped your lips. “Please…”
Spencer didn’t miss a beat. He licked another long, languid strip to your clit, swirling his tongue around it before flattening it again, dragging slowly just to savor the way you trembled beneath him. One of his hands gripped your thigh firmly, keeping your leg steady over his shoulder, while the other slid underneath, lifting your hips closer to his mouth.
And when he finally wrapped his lips around your clit again, pulling it into his mouth with a gentle suck, a choked moan tore from your throat.
“Spencer,” you whimpered. “Oh god…”
The vibration of his low groan reverberated through you. His fingers gripped your thighs tightly, holding you open and pinned beneath him. You weren’t sure what was more overwhelming. The sensation of his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit or the wet, obscene sounds of him slurping against your soaked folds. Either way, it was driving you wild, pushing you closer and closer to that edge where everything blurred and all you could do was feel.
And then his tongue shifted, dipping lower to probe your entrance. He pushed inside, exploring, seeking, like he was determined to reach every possible inch of you. And damn it, it felt like he could. Each thrust and twist of his tongue sent a surge of delicious heat through your body, and you couldn’t help the way your thighs trembled against his shoulders, squeezing him tighter.
You could barely breathe as the tension coiled tighter, so fucking tight you thought you might snap. And he knew it—he could feel it, the way your walls clenched around his tongue, the way your thighs trembled against his shoulders. And still, he didn’t let up, thrusting his tongue into you deeper, faster, while his nose rubbed insistently against your clit.
He kept going, over and over, tasting you like you were the only thing that could satisfy his hunger. It was too much and yet not enough, and soon you couldn’t stop the desperate chant of his name spilling from your lips. You weren’t even sure what you were pleading for anymore—more? mercy?—all you knew was that you on the brink of falling apart.
One last stroke was enough to shatter you completely.
It was almost embarrassing how quickly you came, but with the way he was working you over, you didn’t stand a chance. The moment you felt yourself tip over, everything broke—your body tensed, your back arched sharply off the bed, and a loud moan tore from your lips. It was like your body had a mind of its own, hips grinding desperately against his mouth as if seeking every last bit of friction you could steal.
And when you finally came down, you were a breathless, panting mess. Spencer gave your clit one final, teasing suck, before he pulled back. He crawled up your body, hands sliding up your sides to push your lingerie higher. Gentle, warm kisses tickled your stomach as he threw you a smug look that only he could pull off.
“How was that,” he murmured, pausing to kiss just beneath your ribs. “For your little fantasy?”
Mind-blowing. Intense. Better than I imagined.
“Well,” you managed to say, fingers tangling into his hair. “If that’s how you plan on treating me, Doctor, I might just have to get sick more often.”
Spencer’s lips curved into a knowing smirk against your skin, and he nipped gently at your side.
“I think it’s best for you to do a regular check-up, then,” he teased, letting his lips ghost over your skin as he crawled further up, settling his body over yours. “Doctor’s orders.”
You couldn’t stop the soft, breathless laugh that escaped your lips as you pulled him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his mouth.
You’d be more than happy to comply.
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