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burymagdalene · 15 days ago

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Crazy Little Thing Cold Love - S. Reid x Reader

Where the fierce cold brought by their holiday with the team to a ski lodge leads reader and Spencer to seek warmth in more ways than one in their room. Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Genre: Fluff and Smut (18+ pls pls) tags: softdom!Spence, fingersucking, dry humping, lots of messy kissing, fingering, oral (fem receiving), handjob, piv sex, overstimulation (I can’t help it), praise, fluff, of course, they love each other big time! wc: 6.1k. a/n: I genuinely did not think more than 20 people would read my last (first) fic, I was smiling ear to ear and stalked everyone who liked it basically. I hope this isn’t too long. I don’t know what the fic length sweet spot is. Anyway, I was imagining our pretty boy in the Alaska episode 5x21 while writing this. MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMAL

Despite not knowing how to ski, when Spencer invited you to join him and his team for a quick holiday to a ski lodge in Colorado, you nearly melted in excitement.

You’re over at Spencer’s apartment, bag readily in hand, watching him try to find outfits for this occasion. “Well.. I’m not going to be skiing, so I think regular clothes will be fine, hm?”

“Just bring a couple sweaters or something, that’s what I did. And a swimsuit.” You comment as you lay on your stomach on his bed, scrolling through your phone. Spencer takes his head out of his closet to spin and look at you.

“I didn’t even think about that. Of course. Thank you.” He mumbles and walks to his dresser, unsure if he even has swim trunks here. In his bottom drawer he digs through ridiculous ties and socks he’s forgotten about and begrudgingly finds the only swim trunks he had since highschool.

You scoot your body towards the end of his bed, leaning your head over to look at the way-too-short purple swim trunks he’s holding up with an unmistakably gloom look on his face. “Oh… you have to try those on. Right now.” You request through giggles.

Spencer stands up slowly placing the trunks in front of the trousers on his legs to see how the size difference from a pre-pubescent Spencer contrasts to now. How badly he’s about to be humiliated in front of his coworkers.

It’s nothing too horrifying, just blatantly un-Spencer in a way that has you both laughing at the ridiculousness of it. Seeing your boyfriend in short shorts has yet to occur! Regardless, Spencer slips off his slacks and pulls the shorts over his legs, jumping to put pants on for the first time in his life.

Spencer does not look bad. The shorts are too high up, he has probably grown about 6 inches since he picked these out. The tag is still on, he’s never even worn them. They sit nicely fitted on his upper thighs and he has his hands covering his face laughing as he shows you. In an over exaggerated manly voice you laugh out a “do a little spin for me hot stuff” at a groaning Spencer.

“Babe,” Spencer laughs “I cannot be seen in these. In front of my highly respected team as well. In front of… Morgan.” He begins to take them off and throws them into his duffle bag anyway.

“Noooo you gotta. Plus it’ll probably be just the two of us in the hot tub or whatever at a time. We’re not all going to be sitting in it together. At least I hope not…” You giggle a bit at the image. You have to give Spencer props though, him a few years ago would’ve cancelled his RSVP or purposefully left the swimsuit at home leaving him to a trip of staying in a random log cabin reading.

It’s not for a case, so the team does not have access to their own plane, making it so that you and Spencer are doomed to wake up at 5am to meet everybody at the airport. You give out multiple sleepy sidehugs, unable to believe how equipped everyone is at waking up at unbearable hours. With this though you are able to sleep through the flight from D.C. to Colorado just fine using Spencer as your pillow.

The ski lodge made you gasp when you arrived. Snow that was not present in D.C. covered every inch of the area; two levels of wooden panels lead to a huge snow slope behind the lodge. Through many “ooh’s” and “aah’s” it was finally revealed that only Rossi, Hotch, and JJ knew how to ski. Though, Emily and Morgan were equally as interested in learning from the best. This left you, Garcia, and Spencer to inside activities; watching your friends ski, groaning at lack of cell service (Garcia), reading, and the wonderfully heated pool and hottub that rested on the porch overlooking the slope. This, of course, made everyone squeal.

Rooms were doubled up and you and Spencer unpacked your bags chatting with Morgan who was leaning against the doorway regarding ski tricks.

“If you’re so uncoordinated and haven't touched a slope in your life, why would you care about how skiing can aid astronauts mobility?” Morgan questioned Spencer's rambling about astronauts who have experience with skiing and had an easier time walking on the moon.

“Well I’m not walking on the moon anytime soon either I just think it’s fascinating that cross country skiing-”

“What is that?” Morgan interrupts Spencer when a sweater covering his trunks in his bag gets put away, revealing the tiny purple fabric. You start giggling as Spencer sighs. Morgan walks into the room and picks them up from his bag. “What does this sweet girl have you wearing for her, Reid?” He teases.

Spencer definitely grabs them from his hands “Nothing! I got them when I was in highschool, I don’t go swimming a lot.” He sighs and looks down at you shaking his head as if to say “what did I say?” without speaking.

Morgan relents seeing Spencer's face redden a bit. “Ah, pretty boy, well, this look might be good for you, I can’t wait.” He exits laughing after ruffling Spencer's hair.

Spencer plops down on the bed next to you, scooping you in his arms. “This better be the most heavenly hot tub I’ll ever experience…” he sighs into your neck. You wrap your arms around him too, running your nails softly over his back and whisper back “Oh stop. You deserve a break, it will be.”

Later that day after playing a few rounds of Spades, everyone decides it's time to face the cold, put on gear and ski. Or watch them from the patio. It’s amusing even though you have no concept of how they’re going down with such elegance. It almost looks too easy for them. You have two sweaters on and a ski coat. Apparently, coming out with one sweater and a coat was so offensive to Spencer that he made you tack on another layer. “You’re the coldest person I know, please add another, baby”. Spencer, who was bundled up himself, pleaded as you spun around on your heels to redress yourself without protest because you know he’s right.

With your chin tucked into your hands, pressed between Penelope and Spencer, you all take on the roles of pseudo-Olympic commentators to pass the time. The horrible butchered transatlantic accent coming from you all worsened by the warmed eggnog held between cold palms. Spencer eagerly grins as he sees Morgan stumble a bit in his boots, “Yikes, not a good start for Morgan, whose first Olympics is this year. Now wait, wait, it is down to the wire but…YES, it looks like Morgan has gone for the gold and succeeded. Such a momentous moment in the young athletes career-”

Penelope slaps Spencer's arm, doubled over laughing at the fake news anchor voice he has adapted for this role he has put on. “Stop, stop, he’s going to get mad at you!” You all wipe the smiles off your faces and put on fake serious ones as Morgan trudges back up the slope, looking more suspicious than if you had just kept laughing. He shakes his head in disappointment towards the three of you.

All sort of tipsy and numb from the cold decide to go back inside. The rigorous ski activities today coupled with the early morning, causes the rest of the team to head to bed early. You and Spencer run towards your room at the same time, pushing past each other in the door frame as you try to stumble into warmth.

You slide your coat off and plummet to the ground to turn on the space heater with a speed as though it was a bomb you had 3 seconds left to disarm. You put your hands near it to warm them, looking up from the floor to Spencer who is smiling down at you from the bed. He silently motions with his head for you to sit over by him.

Whining and pulling yourself away from the heater, you get up and stand between Spencer's slightly open legs. He places his arms behind him and slouches back on his palms to get a better look at your face from where you’re standing. He tilts his head innocently to the side and squints at you. “Is somebody too cold? I would’ve never guessed that…”

Scoffing and pulling your arms around yourself to conserve heat you mumble back “Noooo… I mean. Just my hands. Hah, they feel like they’re made out of molasses.” Spencer gives a mocking sort of pitied smile up at you, which you ignore by the good graces in your heart. He shifts his weight back onto one hand and slips one of his chilled palms up the front of your sweater to your waist. You wince at the juxtaposition between your flushed skin under your layers and his icy hand.

You grab his wrist from under your sweater with an icier hand. “Don’t… torture me.” You beg at him. He furrows his eyes together and pouts, as if the idea of removing his hand from the curve of your waist would drain all the blood from his veins. Spencer hums and takes it off anyway, sitting up straight and taking both of your wrists into his hands, placing them together so he can cover your hands with his, moving back and forth to spark some friction into them.

The heat starts quickly from your fingertips to your wrists and you hum in content. Spencer whispers a “Yeah, you’re okay,” in response. “Your hands are freezing, I’m sorry angel.” Very malleable from the sweet heat you’re finally getting, Spencer continues to move your hands so that your palms are facing his face now. He kisses your fingertips softly, the warmth from his mouth makes you let out an almost silent moan.

“S’that nice?” He looks up into your eyes, you still standing there like if you moved all the heat you’ve accumulated on this spot of the floor would vanish. You nod breathlessly. Spencer smiles at your response, not wanting to tease you further, preferring the flush in your cheeks his warmth is supplying you over his taunting. He begins to press more soft, slow kisses over your fingertips, moving your hands at his will by your wrists.

Then there is a progression to open mouth kisses on your palms, he bends your hands down to kiss over each of your knuckles, eyelids open and trained on your face. Spencer rubs his cheek on the back of your hands and moves them again so the sensitive skin of your inner forearms are facing him. Rolling up each sleeve of your sweater, he coos at the goosebumps that raise from the air on your newly exposed skin. The kisses start from your wrists up to the crux of your inner elbow. You get a second round of goosebumps from a different source now.

You let out a rush of air at the sensitivity picking up on your arms from his mouth, from the cold. Spencer places one last kiss on your arm and nips the inside of the sensitive skin there. At this you can only make a pinched face and mutter out a simple, “Spence.”

He can’t help but grin at your placidity, he’s used to your sharp tongue, but this evening you’re nothing but soft sounds and looks. Your goosebumps soon fade as he rubs your arms up and down a few times and slides each of your sleeves back to their rightful places. “Warm?” He questions finally.

Truthfully, the space heater has kicked up enough that you don’t feel like your life's on the line anymore and you on the outside are just as warm and fuzzy as you are feeling on the inside. Still, being doted on is never something you would allow to run short if you have any say in it. “Mmm… my fingers just can’t. Get warm?” You don’t even believe yourself.

Spencer decides to take pity on you anyway through the “woe is me” act you’re executing poorly. “Ahh. Pesky things. Let me try something.” Spencer picks up your right hand again with the delicacy of picking up a butterfly and places your fingers against his lips again. This time though as he’s looking up at you and cupping your hand with both of his, he positions your middle and ring finger down so that they’re the only two pressed against his lips.

Starting off, he kisses them like before, sickly sweet, only with your warmth in mind, then ups his ante a bit. With a small parting of lips, Spencer's tongue tentatively pokes out around the fingers. He’s testing the waters. Easily, you give an eager nod of approval.

Another hum falls from Spencer's lips as he takes your two fingers, to the second knuckle, deeper into his mouth. Sucking your fingers now and staring up at you, you shuffle yourself closer to him, straddling his legs and resting your other hand against his shoulder for purchase.

Spencer’s hands slip from yours and find a place under your sweater again, and this time you let him with no complaints. You take your hand from his shoulder and cup his jaw gently with it, guiding his head back slowly, allowing him to take in more of your fingers. Spencer sucks them gently and moans around them when your fingers grip his jaw a bit too hard. You drop the hand that’s grabbing him. One has to be careful not to bruise the jaw that’s sucking their fingers. Something like that.

Letting go with a gentle pop, Spencer takes a breath of air and pushes his face up to meet yours in a wet kiss. Your wet fingers cup his face as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and tugs.

“Mmpf-” You groan, pain spreading lightly in your mouth now. You briefly think of your first kiss, how feather-light it was that you hardly even felt him there with how tentative he was. After all this time you’ve enabled this boyfriend of yours to use his teeth to nip you like a territorial kitten who is privy to love biting.

With an open mouth you kiss him hard in a rebuttal that has him smiling against your lips. “Hmm, don’t groan, you’re not going to break,” he wraps his arms around you fully, moving his mouth to your ear now, “helpless little lamb-” his voice gentle despite his mocking candace.

You don’t feel like baring your teeth, fully satisfied with allowing Spencer to push your buttons until he inevitably notices your novel docility and rewards you for it. You know him like the back of your hand.

Wrapped in his embrace and legs open over top of him there’s an instinctual need in your brain needing you to grind down on him and a more voluntary decision bred from embarrassment that is saying too soon too soon. In the crossfire of these conflicted thoughts your thighs concoct an awkward shaky squeeze motion and immediately lift up from him.

“Going somewhere?” Spencer says in a pretend-serious tone before snickering at you once you silently sit back down on him. He understands you just as well as you do him and slips the arms that are under your sweater to brace your hips against his. “Is this what you wanted? You can take whatever you want from me.”

Sitting back down to where you were previously on his lap you card your fingers through his hair. “How chivalrous…” you murmur against his lips before you open your mouth to kiss him again. You have learned how to utilize time being spent while kissing Spencer over the course of your relationship. Rather, you have learned how to kiss each other in a way that signals immediately to the other that you’re needing this to progress past dry humping. The way your lips are slotting together and the way he’s pulling on your lips with his is a blaring sign.

After you let out a shuddering sigh while pulling away for a breath, Spencer uses this opportunity to usher you so that your back is flat against the bed and he’s resting his arms around your head on top of you. With one of his hands against your cheek and the other caging your head in you easily slip back into the version of yourselves that tremble with need, this desperation not well suited for either of you. Intolerable.

Spencer’s thigh is regrettably too far away for you to grind yourself against and in order to shake the throbbing at your center you wordlessly take his hand by your face and bring it down over your jeans. He takes the hint immediately cupping you so you can grind against his hand through the thick fabric.

He likes to pull away for this part. Spencer stops kissing you so that while he’s rubbing your clit through your pants he can hear your unoccupied mouth moaning while he kisses along your jaw and neck. He thinks of it as a cheat code really, he gets to keep kissing your skin while simultaneously hearing your progression from moans caught in your throat to small whines and begs.

Surprisingly, Spencer is the first to break and ask for the fabric barriers to be discarded, which makes you proud because you’re the one who’s the most impacted by your (basically) industrial grade jeans prohibiting you from feeling your boyfriend's fingers against you.

“Baby, these are killing me,” He’s already moving above you to unbutton your jeans and shimmy them down to around and off your ankles. “I promise I’ll keep you warm.” In all honesty you’ve forgotten about the biting wind outside and the slopes of snow toppling over, but you appreciate the sentiment regardless. The idea that being cold will genuinely stop you from having him inside you right now is laughable.

You sit up and take off your sweater and undershirt as Spencer is working on your lower half. Working as in mouthing over your cunt through your panties as you struggle to unhook your bra at the visual.

Your legs are parted, thick white socks still up to your shins, and once Spencer threw your jeans to the ground he laid between your legs to kiss and lick over your panties. You keep fumbling with the clasp whenever he sucks or kisses over your clit. Not the most efficient moment of your life. “J-Jesus, I can’t get this off.” You huff and break him out of his pussy-induced stupor.

Spencer comes up from between your legs and shuffles over and unclasps your bra with such elegance that you can’t even comment on it because you know he’s boasting over it in his head. Instead you pull over his sweater and shakily unbutton the top half of his button up shirt while he works on the bottom half. Your hands briefly meet over his middle button and he kisses your forehead with a smile as he pops the last one open for you both.

His own slacks are thrown off alongside yours on the floor and you both grab at each other to take off one anothers underwear in such an eager manner that you have to laugh at each other for a moment before finally sliding them off.

Spencer guides your head with his hand behind it as you slowly lay down besides him. Knees propped up and together, he places one of his hands on the outside of your thigh, gently running his fingers tips up and down the skin. “Why don’t you go ahead and open up your legs for me?” He asks between petting your leg.

Now, he must notice that it would be too easy for him to open them for you, like he so naturally comes to do. He’s coaxed your thighs open, held them down from the backside of your knees while you squirm from his lips sucking your clit, pushed them together and to the side when you’re squeezing his sides too tight while he’s fucking you. There is something delightfully humiliating about spreading them open yourself. So eager to display for him the shiny wetness that has been coating you for a demeaning amount of time, like gifting him a bashful merit badge for his effortless work.

You look up at him through your lashes, his eyes are fixed on the softness of your lower belly, waiting for the moment you start to move so he can see your sex being revealed the instant you do it. Pervert. Taking one of your hands away from the bed you trail it slowly from the bottom of your ribcage to the very part of your stomach that has Spencer transfixed. Teasing yourself and Spencer simultaneously, you push your hand between your closed thighs, still hiding yourself slightly, and dragging up some of the wetness you collected with your first two fingers.

This time your fingers go into your own mouth, sucking off the taste of yourself while you watch Spencer mouth breathe and the tip of his dick start to dribble. Poor thing. “I love you.” He whispers into the air, incentivizing you to just do what you’re told.

Embarrassment flushes your chest as you part your legs for him, putting both of your arms lazily above your head, finally rewarding him with saying “I love you” back once your thighs are on opposite sides from each other and your pussy is on full display.

He shuffles closer to you on his knees, arm reaching out to softly run his hand on the inside of your thigh. “Look at you… can I touch?” Spencer’s asking like he doesn’t know if he doesn’t you’ll die.

“I’ll die if you don’t.” He should get where you’re coming from. He smiles meekly to himself, proud, or maybe just plain excited, and spreads apart your lips with his fingers. Your toes curl in on themselves as he slides his middle finger through you, spreading your wetness and mulling your ache. It’s almost too much to watch this near-inspection and you turn your flushed cheeks to the side and look at how his dick is a matching shade of red to your face. You love this part. Tangible evidence to how he feels about you, not that you need any more, but seeing right in your face how being with you makes his thighs tense and cock heavy puts a smile on your face.

With two fingers now he’s collecting the sticky soft wetness that never stops collecting in times like these, and rubbing your clit with them in such a gentle way you scoff out a “Please-”

Immediately he gives in, he’s not a professional at avoiding your begs even when it's looking like he’s going to be in charge. Pressing his fingers harder against you he rubs faster circles onto where you’re pleading for it. “Being so bossy. We haven’t even started.” He quips, trying to gain back some of the fervor he has for being in control, not just sit back, be a good listener, and give give give.

Your clit throbs helplessly against his fingers. Wanting them harder and faster, wanting them inside you, in your mouth, against your throat, you can’t help but whine at the possibilities montaging in your head. Spencer watches a small dribble of white essence leak from you, mutters a “Jesus” to himself and slides his two fingers off your clit to inside of you. You choke on your moan, not expecting to be so full so quickly, it’s perfect. Spencer isn’t teasingly fucking you with his fingers. He knows how to curl them, he does so. He knows to put his forearm into it in the way that makes you stamp your legs shut. He’s fucking you quickly and easily with them as you bring your hands over your face.

“There, Spence.” You mumble against your hands, biting the skin of your palm to be courteous to everyone else in the house right now.

“I know.” He pushes against that spot in you that’s made you cry and rubs with a pressure made with love. You buck your hips and let him get away with whatever he wants to do with you, but the noise coming from his fingers in you makes you want to float out of your body.

Brows furrowed and head pressing back against the bed your hips start to twist, with a mind of their own, turning over onto Spencer's hand. This part you can’t control. “Mmm, Spencer. Okay, okay, fuck.” You’re bargaining in your own way, for something neither of you know, but Spencer figures out every time. He slips his fingers out and places them on your clit again. Wet and pruned from being inside of you, he can move fastly against it as you gasp.

“I wish you could see what I see right now. So wet. You’re about to ruin these sheets the first night, baby.” He laughs gently at you.

“Th-then stop touching me.” You bite back. Immediately scared of the idea of him following through.

Spencer would literally never do that. He rolls his eyes a bit and furrows his brows at you when you make eye contact. He hums and adds a third finger to rub circles against your clit, two not being enough anymore for a precise massage with how wet you are.

Moving slowly back flat against the bed, your pelvis gives up on trying to crush Spencer’s hand underneath them. When his other hand trails down to fuck you while he rubs your clit you look for a way to thank him without bringing humiliation to yourself for years to come. You feebly grip the base of his dick, palm fairly loose around him as he’s currently milking all of the strength from your limbs.

Spencer plainly laughs at this, it’s so you. He’s making your brain leak from your ears and you can only pump him lightly a few times. The one instance where you two have tried to 69 this story ended a similar way, with his tongue doing unspeakable things while you can just moan around his dick and wetly kiss it. It’s hard to do things while he’s fucking you.

You huff, wanting his pretty leaking dick to be getting the same amount of attention as you are. Keeping your one hand on his base to keep it from bobbing, you reach over with your other hand to rub his tip, smear himself all over the sensitive top. He’s stopped laughing now.

“Please don’t make me cum right now.” Spencer pleads softly as he starts to quickly rub your clit from side to side now instead of the circles he was doing before. Fuck, talk about a competition. Your back arches up from the bed as your hand falls limply from where it was on his tip.

Wanting to inform Spencer on how you can’t jerk him off while he’s touching you so he should just start fucking you properly is not a sentence in your capabilities right now so you try your best with a “fuck me fuck me fuck me.” Doesn’t leave much for interpretation.

He slows his fingers and pulls them away with a sad “sorry, angel…” after glancing at your sour face from the lack of stimulation you’re getting now. He slips off the bed entirely to grab a condom from his bag, and throws it on your stomach for you to open after his fingers slip trying to tear the wrapper himself from your wetness still on his fingers.

Fully situated between your legs again now Spencer looks up at the ceiling briefly while you roll the condom on him as if saying a prayer for composure before he’s inside of you. You can’t help but smile at this as you start to rub him between your legs, grabbing his attention back onto the task at hand.

Whenever Spencer first slides into you, you have to make sure to keep your eyes open to watch his face since he nearly always wears the same angelic face that you never get to see elsewhere. His mouth becomes a small “o”, his eyebrows are furrowed together, but not like he’s squeezing them down, they’re pulled up in a blissed out expression as his eyelids flutter closed. Heavenly.

He’s got one of your thighs in his grasp and he’s pushing it up against your ribs as he begins a steady pace with his hips against yours. There’s strings of your slick attached to his upper thighs from your inner legs rubbing against him. Maybe you are making too much of a mess out of these poor clean sheets.

After his initial haze of trying not to come instantly, Spencer brings back down his right hand to continue flicking your clit back and forth with his wet fingers. You bite down on his shoulder to keep from terrorizing your housemates. Your propped up foot, still covered in your warm socks, thuds softly against his back as the other one grips onto the sheets.

“Feel nice baby?” Spencer asks into your hair as you bite down onto him.

How he could ask you this is beyond you, though you suppose he’s indirectly asking you to feed into his praise kink. “You feel so perfect Spence,” you whine against him. “unhhh…might be a bit too obsessed with your cock” you slur and laugh a bit at the end, not sure what will do it for him. Nevertheless he lets out a choked whimper and loses his rhythm. Bingo.

His weight is pushing you down so you can’t wiggle away from any of the stimulation he’s giving you. It accumulates quickly and, just laying there and taking it, you don’t get enough time to warn him you’re close. You weren’t close really, it felt good and then you came. Sucking in air through your teeth your thighs squeeze around Spencer, who is murmuring “oh baby…” into your ear.

You want to kick him for how good he’s making you feel. It feels unfair and you want to throw a tantrum based on how his fingers are still rubbing your twitching clit and how much you love the feeling of drowning in his pleasure. You’d never throw a tantrum though. Right now, Spencer has caught you in a completely willing mood where you’re closer to proposing to him than anything.

It’s dizzying. Your mouth is wide open in shock as you let him touch you into overstimulation and you don’t even realize it till he lets go of the vice he had on your leg and brings his free hand to put his thumb into your mouth. Latching onto it immediately, you use it as a buffer, a gag, to prevent yourself from making too much noise or mouthing off. You bite down a little on the digit and drool rolls down your lips to your chin. Spencer takes his thumb out, collects it, and pushes it back into your mouth.

Spencer reverts back to rubbing your clit back and forth with his middle and ring finger, losing purchase a few times with how wet you are, but finding his way back to your sweet spot just as quickly. You feel the second orgasm building this time around. Your eyes shoot open, you suck softly on his thumb and he looks back down at you, recognizing the pleading look in your eyes.

“Yeah. Y-yeah, angel. S’a good girl-” he gives his sort of permission and you cum so hard you don’t realize he’s finishing right behind you.

He’s petting your hair with his hand, both wet from either your cum or your spit and you try to shove that complaint out of your head because of how sweetly he’s moaning above you as he finishes. He’s done cumming but he tends to keep sliding into you after, not ready to give up the whole experience yet. This is when you hear his prettiest sounds.

You cup his cheeks and kiss all over his face and he softly smiles and finally pulls out of you, laying on his back and scooping you on top of him. Tracing a finger over his lips softly you whisper how impossibly good he always makes you feel, how he gets you so wet that you didn’t even know you had that much in you till the tips of his ears go red and he pinches your side.

“Open for me.” He asks one more time after shaking off the blush that has accumulated from your praises. You smile and open, finally sucking off what’s left of yourself from his fingers. He pops them into his mouth after yours without a second thought and you cannot believe this is the man who gets the heebie jeebies when he has to shake hands with someone new he meets. They should be the ones hesitant to shake his hand with where they have been.

Both feeling ridiculously sticky, you shower together, not even bothering to unpack your toiletries, just using the too-lemony-smelling products the lodge has provided you with for free. Spencer washes your hair for you so you don’t even need to complain to him about how he’s dirtied it and you both trot back over to the bed with fuzzy robes on.

You cover your face with your hands at the unmistakable wet patches all over the sheets and Spencer collects them quickly and pops them into the washer.

Exhausted, you both lay side by side on the barren bed as you wait for the sheets to be done. Mumbled against your lips a proposition, “I want to see you in that hot tub.” He clearly feels bad for the goosebumps littering your torso that he’s subconsciously been trying to rub away for the last twenty minutes after you left the heat of the shower.

Blinking blankly at him for a moment in silence you purse your lips, “I was thinking about the hot tub too.” The thought of removing yourself from the room that has cold leaking back into it from the lack of physical activity now is thrilling.

Spencer laughs and sits up next to you on the bed. “Everyone is so exhausted from waking up early and skiing all day that we will be all alone so I thought now would be a good-”

“Yeah,” you nod your head enthusiastically at him. You can’t remember the last time you were in a hot tub and it sounds like a dream right now. “Let me get my suit.” You both wobbly stand up and you retrieve your swimsuit from the drawer, laughing while you toss Spencer's trunks back at him. He’s so blissed out from the sex that he doesn’t even mention the trunks, he just slips them on and heads out.

You make Spencer step onto the freezing porch first after you demand him to take the cover off the hot tub for you both, this was his idea after all. Watching from the glass door you blow your breath onto the glass to draw a little heart with an “S” inside of it in the fog. Spencer blows you a kiss in return as he skimpers out in his purple trunks and enormous ski coat.

The alternation between walking out in a swimsuit in that ungodly temperature, into the hot jets of the hot tub feels like whiplash, but once you’re fully submerged you giggle happily and sway your hands under the water.

You and Spencer play footsie under the water like two lovesick teenagers at a pool party as you look off the balcony at the snow. You nudge him under the water a bit before talking,

“Thank you so much for bringing me to this, seriously. I feel like we’re on our honeymoon.” you joke.

Spencer hums and takes your hands into his, rubbing the outside of your hand with his thumb. “Mmm, well on our actual honeymoon I’ll probably have to take you somewhere warm to avoid all this teeth chattering.” He teases back at you, but his words have an underlying sincerity that makes you sink yourself down into the water to your chin with a smile.

“You’re gonna marry meeee,” you respond in a sing-song voice, Spencer grins back for a moment then looks at you and nods earnestly.

“How could I not?”

#spencer reid #smut #spencer reid smut #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff

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sturniqlo · 3 months ago

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KINKTOBER WEEK 4 | ROOM 373- C.S

summary: when not enough rooms were booked ends up leaves y/n and chris sharing a room on their vacation

cw: cursing, brothers best friend trope, SMUT; wet dream, making out, handjob, cum eating

masterlist | kinktober | join my taglist

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"this is nice as hell." matt says when they arrived at the hotel they'd be staying at. it was summer now, and both the triplets family and y/n's family always went on a summer vacation together ever since they could remember. "alright, let's get checked in." y/n's mom says. they all walk through the revolving doors and see the tropical vibe that is inside.

"cant wait to take the fattest nap of my life." y/n groans, leaning her head on nicks shoulder. "i agree." nick nods, looking down at her and giggling as she looked really tired. stands of hair had fallen out of her braid, and her lipliner and lipgloss had worn off ages ago.

chris looked over at her and met her gaze for a few seconds before looking away. although they had all been friends for many many years, chris was always her brothers best friend. if chris wasn't with his brothers, he was with him.

the kids, stood in line by their parents as they got handed their key. this year, the parents had splurged a bit and had gotten everyone their own individual room. as y/n got her key, she bolted to the elevators to go to her room to shower and nap. when she entered her room, she opened up her suitcase on the other side of the bed on the floor. she grabbed her toiletries and picked out a sleeping outfit which was just an oversized tee and sleeping shorts.

grabbing her towel, she headed off into the bathroom.

chris was the last one to get his key since his room had a bit of complications since the hotel was fully booked. after he got his key, he took his time into finding his room. when he spotted 373, he tapped the key card and entered the space, closing the door behind him. he dropped his suitcase off by the door and flopped on the bed, closing his eyes.

not even a minute later, he heard some movement in the bathroom. chris got startled and immediately sat up. what the hell. he thought. was he in the wrong room? was someone in the wrong room? the bathroom door opened and y/n came out with wet hair wearing an oversized tee. "chris? what are you doing in here?" she raised an eyebrow, patting her wet hair with her towel. "this is my room, what are you doing here?" chris was relieved that it was y/n and not some stranger.

he caught himself looking at her exposed legs and quickly looked back at her eyes. "what? no it's not." she said, hanging her towel up in the closet space. y/n grabbed her key card off of the night stand and held her hand out. "let me see yours." chris pulled his key card out of his pocket. she sat next to him, too close, and he could smell the sweetness of her shampoo. as he admired her side profile, she spoke up. "they're the same. do you think it was a mistake?" she looked at him.

"i dunno'. don't think so, i took longer because the hotel was fully booked." he shrugged. "i- i mean we could share a room, i won't mind. it's only a week." she said. chris nodded. "i don't mind either."

"well, i'm going to take a nap. please don't be too loud."

two hours later, y/n woke up from her nap and switched on her other side to be met with chris laying on his phone. "hey there, sleepyhead." chris noticed that she was awake. "what time is it?" she asked, yawning. "seven twenty two." he looked at the corner of his phone. she tosses the blanket off of her and sits up, her hair still lightly damped.

chris watched her as she sat up, and putting her slippers on as she made her way to the bathroom. as she entered the bathroom, his eyes wandered down south, seeing the bottom of her shorts ride up. stop it! he thought and shook his head, looking away. chris went back to using his phone trying to the get imagine of the silver if skin that he had seen out of his mind. she was his best friends little sister after all.

a couple of minutes later, she walked out looking more awake. she made her way to her suitcase and threw on a hoodie. "i'm going to the food court, wanna come?" she untucked her hair from the inside of her hoodie. "sure, why not." chris shrugged, putting his phone away and grabbing a key card from the nightstand.

the two of them walked next to eachother down the hall making their way to the elevator. y/n's stomach growled since she was starving. she was thankful that the resort had a food court. when they arrived at the small court, they looked at their options. "what did you want to get?" he looked at her, admiring her facial features. "uhm, probably a burger and some fries, you?" he nodded. "i'll get the same."

they both walked to the burger station and got their food. the food was brought back up to their room. her and chris sat on the bed eating their food as they watched a horror movie on the television. "why the hell would he go out there knowing the killer is there, my fucking god." she said, pointing at the screen. chris laughed, ever since they were kids she'd always made little commentary during movies stating her opinion. that was one of the many things he liked about her.

after the movie had ended, the food long gone. it was nearing ten pm and chris was starting to get sleepy. "i'm going to start getting ready for bed." he said, getting up off of the bed and heading to his suitcase. chris grabbed his toiletries and a change of clothes along with his towel to shower. "alright." she said, scrolling on her phone. y/n on the other hand, was wide awake. the nap she had taken and the food she had eaten, she wasn't going to sleep anytime soon.

soon, chris got out of the shower, his hair wet and he was shirtless. she stared for a couple of seconds before going back to scrolling through her phone. "is it okay if i turn the lights off?" chris hung his towel next to hers. "go ahead." she nodded, laying on her side away from chris. the lights turned off and shortly after she felt the bed dip two feet away from her. "g'night." he yawned. "night, chris." she turned her phone brightness and volume down so he can sleep.

it was now a bit past midnight and she was watching a show on her phone with low volume. chris was still fast asleep and shifted a few times in his sleep, mumbling incoherent words. she giggled ever time it happened because whenever they would have sleepover as kids, he'd always deny that he talked in his sleep.

as she continued watching the movie, she felt chris scoot closer to her and drape his arm over her waist. the sudden movement startled her as is was unexpected. however, she thought nothing of it, he was always a cuddly sleeper.

chris kept mumbling and moving here and there. until, she started to feel something poke her lower back. was he having a wet dream? she paused her movie, maybe she was wrong? chris rocked his hips and bit and whined. shit. she was right.

deep in his sleep, the tension in his pants woke him up. and he found himself cuddled y/n from behind and gently rocking his hips against her. "oh my god, i'm so sorry!" he quickly took his hand off and sat up. she followed, turned the lamp on. "it's okay, chris." she said. "i'm so so sorry, y/n. fuck!" he cursed at himself.

"chris, i said it's okay." she climbed on his lap. he was surprised at what she was doing. hell, even she was surprised at herself. "w- what are you doing?" his hands came up to rest on her hips and she settled herself on his lap. "can i help you? is that okay?." she held his face in her hands, caressing his cheek. "yes, fuck, please do." he nodded, answering her questions.

she brought their lips together in a kiss. chris moaned into the kiss. he had been wanting to do this forever. her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands rubbed against her sides, groaning when she pushed her core against his hard on. y/n pulled away, holding his chin. chris tried to connect his lips back with hers but she pulled away slightly and smirked.

she swore she heard him whine. "let me help you." she let go of his chin, her hand traveling down his chest to the waistband of his sweats. he nodded, giving her permission to pull him out. "words, chris." she looked into his eyes. "yes, yes, please." she giggled at his eagerness. "i'll take good care of you, promise." she leaned down to press a kiss on his neck before she climbed off of his lap and sat on her knees near his thighs.

he pulled his sweats and underwear down a bit and his cock sprung up. "look at you, so hard." she cooed, gently taking him into her hand. he hissed. "fuck." he threw his head back. "so sensitive, i've barely touched you." her hand squeezed him a bit. he groaned. y/n smirked, bringing her thumb up to his slit that's leaking with pre-come.

her hand began to move up and down his length at a faster pace. she was awed at the sight of him. his jaw was slacked, and his head was thrown back against the headboard. "doin' so good f'me, babe." her lips came up to his exposed neck. the pet name only made him harder.

"i want you to come in my hand, alright? want every. single. drop. on my hand. we don't wanna waste a drop, now do we?" she bites the skin on his neck, not hard enough to leave a mark. how would they explain it to everyone tomorrow morning?

"so- so close. don't stop." he gasped, feeling his orgasm build up. she let go of him for a bit and he whined. "baby, wha- why'd you stop?" he says out of breath, lifting his head off of the headboard. she smirked, scooting to sit on his thighs. "patience, chris."

chris looked down at her shirt covered chest and saw her nipples poking her thin shirt. "want me to take it off?" y/n noticed his gaze on her nipples. he nodded. "yes, can- can i?" the ache of his cock very much still there. "go ahead." she smiled, moving a piece of his hair that fell on his forehead.

his hands came to the bottom of her shirt and lifted it over her head. chris' eyes locked onto her exposed chest. he brought his hands up to her tits and gently squeezed them. as he caressed them, her hands were now back on his cock. "yes, fuck, yes!" he groaned. "you like that, yeah? like my hand on your hard cock." she looked into his eyes.

"kiss me, please." he said, bringing his hands from her tits to her neck. she didn't stop the movement of her hands as he pulled her into a kiss. the room was filled with the smacking sound of their lips and her hand on moving up and down his cock.

"so close, shit!" he mumbled into the kiss. "come for me, chris." her hand sped up. "fuck, fuck, fuck!" he chanted, feeling the familiar build up. he couldn't keep up with kissing her, his head falling back against the headboard again. "i'm- shit! i'm cumming! fuck, baby!" his jaw went slack at the intensity of his orgasm.

spurts of his white come dripped down her hand and painted her sternum and his lower belly. "shit-" he twitched as he became sensitive in her hands.

"did so good for me, baby. so good." she smiled, bringing her cum covered finger up to her mouth.

"you even taste good."

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pomegranatesarchive · 1 month ago

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warming up

pairing: franco colapinto x teammate!reader

summary: franco is determined to make his teammate feel better with the perfect warm sweater.

warnings: franco is slightly obsessed with reader, not much franco x reader action but still cute! two mentions of ‘yn’, shameless and jealous franco.

You had seriously underestimated how cold Vegas would actually be.

It seemed like everyone had warned you, ‘Bring sweaters, it will get cold’ they said, and yet you chose to ignore them. So your situation could’ve easily been avoided.

You gazed at Liam Lawson from the other side of the paddock, wishing nothing more that you were in his position, wrapped up in a blanket sitting right next to a heater.

You sighed, imagining what you would feel like if you were in his position, you were so focused that you didn't see or hear your teammate walk up behind you.

Franco looked at you with a smile, although he frowned when he realized you weren’t giving him his desired attention, he followed your gaze over to Liam, who was in the middle of an interview.

“What are we looking at?” he whispered in your ear, ignoring your slight jump.

“Jesus Franco,” you muttered, trying to calm yourself, “Liam looks real warm right now.”

Franco nodded, rolling his eyes slightly, “Yes. Because he had a blanket. Do you not see that?”

You gave him a look, “Of course, I see that. That is the whole point. I want to be warm.”

Franco gave you a look over, keeping his eyes on your bare arms, where he could see the cold making your hair stand up, he smiled, “Ah. Are you cold?”

“I can’t feel my fingers,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes forward, on Liam.

Franco frowned, holding back on asking why exactly you didn't bring a sweater, his stomach felt nauseous at the sight of you gazing at Liam with so much want.

Now, you weren’t exactly looking at Liam, more so his body temperature, but still, Franco would give anything to have you gaze at him.

He gasped, his face brightening, if he got you a sweater, there was no way you would be staring at Liam like that, you would be staring at him like that.

“I will be right back.” he spoke firmly, starting to back away, “Do not leave.” you watched him over your shoulder, giggling as he fumbled into a sprint.

“No, too ugly…” Franco mumbled to himself as he threw the sweater behind him, he pulled another from his small driver’s room closet, “No, too blue…” He threw this one behind him as well. Not noticing it landed on his trainer.

The man in question jumped in shock, pulling the Williams-style sweater off his head, “What the..” he mumbled, turning to Franco, who held up a knitted sweater, “Perfect..” he heard Franco whisper.

The trainer stared briefly, watching Franco go back scavenging through his closet. The trainer could only roll his eyes before slowly walking out of the room.

“I should get her two.” Franco whispered to himself, “In case she doesn’t like one of them..” he nodded to himself, continuing to throw sweaters he didnt deem fit behind him.

After ten minutes of back and forth, Franco existed his driver’s room content, he was going to be your night and shining armor, and then you’ll look at Franco with all the love in the world because he was the one to get you warm and cozy.

Just as he was going to make his way over to the media pen, where he had left you, he was pulled aside by your manager.

“(Y/N) was looking for you.” she informed him, Franco grumbled to himself, “I told her to stay in place, tonta.” (dummy)

“She got cold.” The woman defended you, “You left her out there…she waited for ten minutes.”

Franco held up the two sweaters in his arm with a frown, “I got her sweaters, so she would not be cold.”

Your manager eyes him with a smirk, “You spent ten minutes finding a sweater to give her?”

Franco shrugged, “I wanted to make sure they were warm.”

The woman tilted her head, “You know we have a merch store full of sweaters, right?”

Franco turned to her in disgust, “Mierda, those sweaters are like this,” he held his thumb and index together, “They are not warm. They need to be warm.” (shit)

“So you are giving her your sweaters?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think that will make her fall in love with you?”

Franco leaned back in offense, “I do not need to make her fall for me…” he paused, “She is already in love with me, she just does not know it yet.”

The woman nodded with pursed lips, “Yeah because that’s a totally sane thing to say.”

Franco simply rolled his eyes, having had this conversation one too many times. So what if his obsession with you was just slightly worrying? It was all going to work out in the end, he just knew it. “Do you know where she went?”

Your manager thought for a moment. “She mentioned being hungry, so she probably went up to eat.”

And with that, Franco went off with a sprint.

Out of breath, and slight sweating, Franco entered the Williams dining room, eyes sweeping over the place with quick eyes. Only to feel a rush of disappointment when he didn't spot you.

He let out a deep disappointed sigh as he took a seat at the bar. The bartender watched him as he wallowed in pity.

Franco continued to let out deep, soul-searching sighs, catching the attention of those around him, the bartender walked but to him with an awkward smile, sliding over a glass of water.

“Hey Franco,” she started, he glanced up at her with a small smile, “You okay?” she whispered, leaning in, there were all different kinds of people around them, investors, fans, journalists, and no doubt searching for a bit of drama to hold onto, the last thing she wanted was for this interaction to be first-page news tomorrow morning.

“No.” Franco was blunt, “Was (Y/N) here?”

The lady nodded, “Yeah she just left actually. She got her usual–”

“Hot chocolate, whipped cream, caramel drizzle.” the two coursed.

The bartender leaned back, impressed, “You really know her.”

Franco shrugged, “She’ll be my wife one day, I need to know what she likes.”

The lady laughed, “Oh yeah? Does she know that?”

Franco tilted his head, “No sé. I don't think it's a secret that I like her.” (I don't know.)

The woman agreed; this was not the first time she’d heard about Franco being in love with you. It seemed like every time he and she talked, he managed to somehow make the conversation about you.

Now, she didn't know if the feelings were one-sided, the way you looked at Franco certainly made her think they weren't.

She hummed, “Well she took her hot chocolate to go, so I don't know where she went.”

Franco nodded, slowly moving off the chair, his sweaters both tightly secure in his clutch, “Okay then. If she comes back, tell her I'm looking for her.”

Franco was late to the fan stage, he had been so busy looking for you that he had lost track of time, and now he was being yelled at by his manager through the phone, demanding to know where he was.

It took him two minutes to run from the garage to the fan stage, he was recorded who knows how many times, and he was no doubt trending right now.

He had thrown the two sweaters in the arms of his manager when he arrived, wasting no time climbing the small steps up to the stage.

What he saw made his stomach drop, there you were in all your glory, wearing no other than a…mclaren puffer jacket. And you were talking to no other than…Lando Norris.

God, the smile on your face made Franco want to claw his eyes out, Lando had never been that funny.

Franco ignored the fans yelling his name, instead he squeezed in between you and Lando, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Hello,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes on you.

Lando looked over at you with an amused smile before walking away, shaking his head slightly.

“Hi?” you questioned, glancing over to the fan’s direction weary, thankfully they seemed to be paying attention to Lando and Oscar, the latter seemingly saying something funny.

“I was looking for you.”

You winced, “Sorry but I got really cold, and then I got really hungry…”

Franco smiled softly, "It's okay…” he glanced down at your attire, “What are you wearing?”

You broke out into a smile, “Do you like it? Lando gave it to me, he said I looked cold.”

“I don't like it,” Franco stated simply, you leaned back, an offended look on your face. “Okay. Rude.”

“It’s really ugly, “ he continued, “You should change.”

You huffed, “I didn't bring any sweaters!”

Franco held up a finger before moving away. You rolled your eyes, moving back to the others on stage.

A couple minutes later you felt someone's presence behind you, you jumped slightly, feeling someone pulling on your jacket, looking back you saw Franco, a look on his face.

“Take this off,” he mumbled, you glanced to his shoulder, where two knitted sweaters lay. “Porfa?” he pleaded, seeing the hesitation on your face. (please)

Later that night, as the fan stage was wrapping up, Franco walked up to Lando, handing him the Mclaren jacket with a smile, “She didn't want it…” he muttered, “And she doesn't want you.” he added as an afterthought, shooting the Mclaren driver a smile before walking over to you.

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto fluff #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto #franco colapinto x y/n #f1 social media au

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rookiesbookies · 3 months ago

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The boys catch their ladies reading smut, originally this had the books I was basing this on in them but I hadn't got the time to read the books so I remove the book titles and authors. I hope you enjoy <3

Price: Yeah, she’s younger than him. This book is like 100% just breeding kinks. So she was reading this book about a man breeding his young woman and being super obsessive and clinging… while sitting in their living room… with her fuzzy, super obsessive, newlywed husband. “What are ya readin love?” He said, swiftly snatching the book from her grasp as he sat down on the couch next to her. He kicked his feet up on the couch and laid so his back was against her shins under the blanket she was bundled in. “Nothing important! But you really should give it back!” She panicked, reaching for it. “Holy bloody Jesus, love. This is a casual read for you?” “... yeah.” He wiggled his eyebrows while looking up to see her. She put a hand in his face and took her book back. “You almost made me lose my page.”

Soap: Being bent over and defiled by a hot Scotsman in a kilt? Oh hell yeah. How could you refuse?

“Jesus, Bonnie, why are ye readin about this shit when ya could get the real thing with me?” He chuckled, flipping through the book she had poorly hidden in her nightstand. “My kilt is in the closet, give me less than 10 minutes to get me socks and straps on and I’ll rock yer world harder than some words on a page ever could. You’ll see, donnae worry.”

He did indeed rock your world harder than pages ever good.

You claim and cry that you want to finish it for the plot, he says you can only read “that filth” when he’s away on deployment.

Says its a waste if you have a real heavy, hairy, and thick Scotsman at your disposal on the daily.

Ghost: Reading a story about a man whose face was painted like death and has charm that causes hormonal riots? Sounds exactly like her Simon. She lay on their shared bed as he packed up for their walk to the park. Her legs kicked up in the air as she read.

He raised an eyebrow at what could have her so giddy so he effortlessly snatched the book and was met with a nasty surprise when he looked over the words. “Take it you’d rather stay home than go to the park,” he mumbled with a smirk before bending down to kneel in front of her now with a red face.

“No- no I think a walk in the park will be fine.” She nervously chuckled.

Konig: Hot giant caveman dragging a woman away to have his way with her? Basic Konig when he comes back from missions.

Grabbing his sweet girl and pulling her into the dark cave that is their bedroom, only letting either out once he’s had his way with her and showing her just how much he’s missed her.

His face was red flushed as he read over her shoulder though.

“Oh meine gut, Schatz."

The scream she let out even made him fall back.

“Don’t scare me like that!”

He pressed a kiss to her temple in apology.

“This book made me horny, can we fuck?” She asked straight up, knowing Konig preferred her blunt. She didn’t need to ask him twice.

Gaz Hot british guy? Her standards were so low for her choices in literature as long as it was someone she could imagine her Kyle as. Hmmm easy.

So when she was leading her walk with her audio book in her headphones she was more than busy. When he got a hold of one of her airpods while at the gym and she forgot he had the other one, he looked over at her with wide eyes. He texted her, “I didn’t realize you were interested in being folded like that.”

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autism-corner · 2 years ago

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man cleaning your room is such a fucking big thing wth. the entire back of my head is drenched, as if i just came out of the shower. wth.

#ive only done like. 2/8 big clultters.#ive already filled one enitre trashbag..#maybe i shouldntve let it get like this :)#its not THAT bad but theres definitely loads of stuff that are. just sitting there. im throwing most of em out now =w=b #im also rearranging my entire room so....#im very hype about my new imagined arrangement itll be fun #probably also getting a new & bigger desk!!#im creating 4 areas (one in each corner ofc)#1) bed 2) desk/school 3) clothing/storage 4) crafts #i have a fairly big room ig. it'll all fit comfortably #at least how i imagine it now.#there'll be like. clear dividers in the form of closets/desk bc i love the wall-less-tiny-home feel.#im so excited you dont understand.#ive had my current arrangement for like. 2.5 years. i think.#my beds currently with only the head-side on a wall. feetside in the middle of the room. i think its fun =w=b #in the new one itll still be like that but. a lot more off centre/closer to a second wall #my room has a lot of thingies that make it difficult to just. have a regular layout.#seperate storage spaces that need to be accesed. a big baseboard-type thing that has a pipe under it. my radiator thats mounted to the wall #+ a slanted roof .#its cool tho i love my room #if it wasnt for the fact that im still living with my parents i'd stay here forever.#rant done =w=b #sillyposting

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hoshigray · 3 months ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐆𝐨 𝐁𝐮𝐦𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | s. gojō + k. nanami + h. higuruma

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Two demon hunters and a witch unite to take down a demon terrorizing the locals — sounds easy enough until the demon puts up a good fight and drags you three in for a night you’ll never forget…!

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: demon! Gojo + demon hunters! Nanami & Higuruma x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - fantasy! au - porn w/ plot - reader + Nanami (aged 27), Higuruma (36) + Gojo (???) - double penetration (anal & vaginal) - foursome (MFMM) - [anal] fingering! (f! receiving) - oral (f! + m! receiving) - handjobs - breast fondling + nipple play + sucking - face-sitting + cowgirl positions - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - biting/nibbling - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy, you sillies!!) - pet names (baby, cutie, cupcake, darling, [my] love, sweetheart, sweetpea) - usage of aphrodisiacs - bit of humor bc i'm [not] funny - mention of blood, drool/spit and tears.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.6k (i'm so sick...)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first fic of kintober, lessgooooo!! always wanted to write smthn with higunana, so I'm glad i can check that off my list now :333 my first foursome fic, I'm bout to end it all.

“—OWW!! Fuck…easy with the magic, witch!”

“Good work, sorceress; a good hit.”

“He went toward the abandoned mansion as planned; if we’re lucky, with that gash on his shoulder, he shouldn’t be going anywhere…Let’s stay close.”

You nod to the words, the pendant of your necklace shines. “Lead the way.”

Of course, it was a dark and rainy night befalling this day; the twilight light diminished hours within an hour, leaving the stars to scatter around as the waxing crescent dominated the black sky. The only light outside of these is the lantern harboring the flame as you tread under the forest’s trees with purpose, and heavy falling droplets coat your hood and mask the sounds of wet footsteps.

This isn’t the place to walk around during this time of night; the town is fifteen minutes away, the nearest bustle of civilization for its townspeople or passersby. For a night like this, you’d want to be as far away from the rain’s reach: hanging with neighbors or community within the local pubs, calling on a carriage that would service you to your way home, or already cuddled up on your bed and letting the hit of the rainfall hypnotize you to an easy slumber. This is what is expected of the regular townsman, away from the hands of trouble or danger.

However, you are not a townsman – nor are you ordinary – which is why you’re walking up a path that leads to the opened fenced gates of a deserted home.

“Blood on the ground leads us here,” you were not alone, as one hooded person comments while leading you past the gates forced open. He holds a lantern, the flame closeted by the glass being a light source aside from the periodic lightning that graces the dome above. Tiny bits of his blonde hair can be seen thanks to the glow.

“Just as you expected, Kento.” Another hooded man speaks before you in your company while tailing behind the other man. “There’s the old Gakuganji mansion…Sorceress, can you cast a veil to make sure the demon has no way to leave?”

You walk between them. “Please stand aside, hunters.” The men don’t move a foot as you distance yourself, leaving you with the space necessary to do what you need to. Because what you’re about to do is something no average man could do but imagine.

Again, that’s only possible because you are not an ordinary townsman…but, instead, a witch.

You raise a hand with your fore and middle finger to your lips. “Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness…” The shadow under your feet goes still, breaking its typical mandate and moving to swirl into a circle. “Purify that which is impure, impure that tarnishes the pure…” The dark circle increases, its massive size swallowing whatever is in its path. It sneaks under the feet of the two men behind you, their shadows unionizing with the giant shape and continuing to grow. Yet, the men remain silent as the darkness consumes the Earth. The grass, the mansion, the damaged fenced gates — the circle expands outward until it meets the trees of the woods. “May the shadows guard the light, keep the unseen from being seen…” Then, the shadowed shape spirals within its outline, picking itself while the foundations lay on the ground. Liquid matter encircles around as it rises, forming a dome-like profile until the dripping fragments atop piece together. “And may this viel cleanse its inhabitants and scene…Bounded Barrier: Curtain!”

The constructed umbra shields you three from the outside world, sheltering those below from the pattering hits and sounds of the thunderstorm. Knowing this, you discard your hood to the ground and let the cool air greet the skin of your cheeks; the two men behind you mimic and follow as you walk up to the old front doors of the mansion, which also, from inspection, is damaged. A massive hole is gashed onto the aged wooden frame, and lights aren’t on to greet you in the foyer.

The blonde man takes a few steps ahead of you. “His blood leads to the upstairs.” Now that his hood is off, the light from the lantern highlights more of his hair. “Higuruma-san, my blade.”

“Right here, Kento.” The other person, Hiromi Higuruma, is a brunet man with his hair pushed up, and the older hunter’s clothes is kept dry from the rainfall. Adorning an aloof expression, he pulls something out of his case and hands it to the blonde. “Be sure to stand on guard, you two. The curtain may keep things out and things in, but one wrong move and we’re in trouble.”

“Roger,” the fair-haired Kento Nanami is a younger huntsman despite his appearance. He takes the blunt sword sheathed with a black spotted cloth with one hand while the other scavengers through a pocket. “Sorceress, can you ensure the demon cannot leave this mansion?”

A curt nod is all you give before venturing a hand to the miniature bag that sits behind your back. You pull out multiple pieces of paper, talismans that you throw up in the air as you mutter words under your breath. They ignore the force of gravity and stay airborne, aligning themselves into a circle as they glow into a bluish-white halo. As you recite, your hands come up from the bell sleeves of your dress as if to hold the gleaming circle. But then, you snap your fingers, and the luminous papers immediately break from the circle and head in different directions. Some go outside the huge home while others scram around the inside, a trail following each as they travel up the stairs or down the vast halls.

“The talismans will go around to every window, door, or opening in this mansion,” you turn to utter a quick spell, and the broken door reconstructs itself back to its original standing with a big spell mark painted on its surface. It flares when you snap your fingers again. “Any contact he makes with them will subdue his powers temporarily. But I’m sure he knows that as well…”

“My thoughts exactly,” Higuruma agrees with you after pulling items from his case to pass to Nanami. He then claps his hands and enumerates a prayer under his lips, and something emerges from the shadows. A black body camouflaged with the dark shade with three stubby points and a face, eyes sewn shut and gritting its teeth. A shikigami, and it swims to where you three stand, curling to where the oldest is. “Better take care of him now while we have the upper hand. Let’s move.”

You and Nanami nod and let Higuruma steer the company to where the blood takes them, walking up the stairs and avoiding the darkness to take hold of their figures because of the lantern.

Walking in the woods and expediting in old, abandoned homes isn’t something you’d do regularly. But, for a case like this, it’s a routine you’re not unfamiliar with. It comes with being a leper of the woods, an outcast to those who don’t comprehend your routine. Endowed with advanced knowledge of magic and texts, you are the sole witch residing in these forests, practically knowing every way, sound, root, and print like the back of your palm and all the while staying enclosed to yourself, isolating away from the judgemental looks and discrimating words of the common folk.

Now, if you’re so looked down upon, what calls you here in what seems to be a chase for a demon? Well, for the past three months, the nearby municipality has been sprouting accounts of “supernatural” encounters. What started as something that only a handful of people would recollect turned into havoc brought upon the townspeople daily. The elderly are spooked to the point of shivers, children crying at the most bizarre sights of floating objects and beings, and even narratives that speak about being attacked — all of this from the same demon terrorizing this once peaceful community.

A demon is causing trouble; what does that have to deal with you? As far as you can tell, none of the people in that town even look your way or treat you with barely decent manners without you harboring a disguise — why should I care for them? That is the question you raised to the two hunters who traveled into the forest to find your hut and bring the issue to you. The same hunters you are silently searching through this mansion’s dusty halls and rooms.

Demon sightings and encounters typically go straight for the church, with experienced deacons and reverends coming together to ordain a jurisdiction on dealing with the wicked spirit based on their ancient teachings. Nonetheless, the church has admitted defeat in exorcising this particular demon. This robust, evil creature is gifted with abilities that have caused near-death for the most adept church members. Every failed attempt only fuels more despair for them and the citizens…which is the demon hunter guild sent two of their fairly newest yet most skilled to come to your abode and convince you to lend them your expertise.

At first, you watched as the two men tried to sway your resilience into giving them aid, yet your stubbornness was a solid obstacle for them to navigate. To you, helping a community that holds ill will towards you just because of your lifestyle to the point of outcasting yourself makes your stomach turn into the worst of knots — something both Higuruma and Nanami found validation in your sternness. But they inquired, you are a practitioner far from their customs, meaning your ridiculed ways have a different advantage and approach. To them, the combined powers of the hunting party and sorcery are necessary to bring down the same evil. Not to mention, you knew of this demon and his powers, so your intellect is profoundly essential – if not by the townspeople, then by the two comely huntsmen begging for your cooperation.

So, with a heavy sigh and a “…Fine,” you agree to work with the men on their mission on the condition that they capture the ghoul alive. And with two handshakes and a day to devise a plan, you’re now in this rusty place combing for the injured specimen that’s caused all this disturbance…

The inspection is done quietly so the three pairs of ears can catch any cue of noise or voice. No sentences are exchanged, and the three of you are on the same page and motioning around the halls not to have your position compromised for your enemy. Until a clash is heard in a room down the hall, you and the hunters swiftly appear at the door.

Before anything is done, you gently place your fingers on the wooden surface, and your eyes glare with the contact. The material before you turns transparent, the room’s contents visible to your naked eye. According to the layout, this is the second-floor living area with a fireplace, a couch set, and bookshelves on the far right side. And something - no, someone - writhing on the ground, clutching its left shoulder - or what’s left of it as there’s a massive chunk eviscerated off from the collar to the bicep — and bolts of lightning course around the seething figure until faded.

He tried to escape from the window; you note that the exact strings of bolts come from a giant closed windowsill, a talisman plastered outside on the glass. Your eyes return to normal, “I’m going in.” You move without an answer from the huntsmen, your hands grabbing the handles and pushing them to let you in. With your entrance to the cold room, the person is alerted and groans in agony as they change positions for battle despite the pain conveyed in their huffs. You snap your fingers and throw light to the fireplace, and you’re finally met with the being you’ve been tailing after.

White hair is the first thing that captures your eyes, followed by the bare chest exposed by the lack of a shirt—black hakama with intricate blue and white designs that skitter the bottom openings. Sky-blue tattoos decorate the milky skin from his wrist to his shoulders, pectorals, and streak back to his nape. Finally, the blue horns and tail confirm his non-humanness, and the six signature eyes that his face holds. Six cerulean orbs lock into your frame; the “normal” set has two eyes sitting beneath them, all shining cautiously.

“Gojo Satoru,” you speak first. “Good to see you again.”

He scoffs with a pained grimace. “Wish I could say the same to you, witch. But I didn’t know getting my shoulder murked was part of the greeting.” His right hand was coated with blood from the open wound, crimson spilling down his arm onto the carpeted ground.

“My apologies,” you say flatly with a step forward. Yet you halt at Gojo’s bloody hand, which forms a sign and points to you. “But you were given multiple chances to stop and still ran.”

“Yeah, well, what do you expect me to do when you’re being chased by a dark sorceress and two pushy demon hunters,” he spits blood to the side before averting his gaze to the door. “Whom I can sense hiding with a weapon and shikigami, by the way—not cool, Nanamin!”

“Not my name.” Nanami bluntly retorts before you continue.

“You know why we were chasing you down, Gojo. You’ve been frightening the townspeople for the past three moons, an issue that’s been troublesome enough for the church to seek my help.”

Six eyes roll with the click of the teeth. “Mch, traitor, outed by a fellow outcaster.”

“Know it wasn’t my initial choice. Besides,” you move the slit of your dress to open the bag of your thigh. Your forefinger and thumb pull out a green liquid tablet. “You should be thankful that I’m the one capturing you and not killing you here and now.”

You throw the tablet in the demon’s direction, who catches it with his tongue and gulps it down. Instantly, a grumble of stress and pain befalls Gojo, his hand returning to the wound you’re responsible for. This time, tissue muscle regenerates and stitches itself back into its earliest mode, rebuilding his shoulder until the skin morphs back and restores the tattoo that once sat there. “Haaahhh…how thoughtful of you.”

“Stand down now, Satoru,” you cross your arms and crouch. “Leave this place and return to the demon realm where you’ve agreed to stay.”

“No can do, witch. I ain’t going anywhere until I get what’s mine.” Now that his injury is sealed, he stands up to dust off his pants and stretches. “And seeing that you’ve finally crawled out of whatever hole you’ve been hiding for three months, looks like you’re ready to return it.”

A neutral expression remains. “I’m not giving it back.”

“Then I’m not going back — not like I have any interest to anyway; it’s sooooo boring there.”

“The last time I had to come after you and your antics was with Yaga half a year ago,” you caught the slight narrow of his eyes at the mention of the retired demon hunter. “And the only reason you still walk among the living is because you agreed to his conditions that you return to the demon realm and give me half of your Limitless and Infinity.”

“Agreed or getting hit by the old man until I said I would?” He jokes, but he points to his head where the former hunter had beaten the young ghoul with the sheath of his sword. “But I don’t sense him with you. Guess the geezer finally retired, and not many huntsmen are up to his level now,” Gojo spaces his feet to steady his stance, putting his fists up with a smirk. “Meaning it won’t be too hard getting the rest of my power back.”

You lift a brow. “You underestimate me.”

“Can’t help it,” all his eyes laminate to a brighter hue. “You might be a sorcerer, but you’re still human, flesh and bones that can break easily with or without my Limitless.”

“You think you can break me.”

Metallic nails sharpen with a flex, “Without a doubt.”

Silence shays between you two briefly before you stand right back up. “Then you’re just as foolish as any other human.”

At the final word, the huntsmen dash into the room and begin to charge Gojo’s way, running past your figure as you recite spells. However, the demon’s eyes shine expectantly, slashing his hand filled with energy to dart red crescent-like blades to the men. They dodge and go in opposite directions. Nanami uses his blade and aims for Gojo’s forearm—no damage, used as a shield with his Limitless.

“Nanami~n, how’ve ya been?” The monster asks with a chipper, nonchalantly pushing his arm to push the fair-haired man back. “It’s been a while; I haven’t seen you since you came to get me and Suguru from an old pub!”

“Yes, I remember,” Nanami voices with slight reluctance, sneaking a dagger into the abdomen only for his wrist to be caught by the demon’s tail. “I also remember my superiors warning you and Geto-san to quit causing trouble.”

“Now, where’s the fun in that? Staying in the demon realm is dull and boring. But here,” Gojo puts Nanami on his back with a swift swipe of his leg, kicking him to the chest for a strained groan. “Here is not much of a buzzkill; humans flock to this planet like sheep, little playthings that never cease to entertain me.” He places his foot on the other’s chest, biting his lips after a lick. “…And sure tasty as hell.”

In a flash, the three-limbed shikigami lurks to headbutt Gojo off of Nanami, propelling him into the direction of Higuruma, who stands ready with a sword in position for a slash. Gojo notices him in his peripheral and maneuvers to land on the wall beside the older hunter at the last second. “Hm? Hey, you’re new.” The ghoul gives the dark-haired man a punch to the cheek. “How long have you been in the guild, big-nose?”

“Five months,” Higuruma admits airly as Gojo swerves from the lunges of the steel sword. “But I’ve heard quite a lot about you.”

“Ehhhh, who woulda thought I was that famous!…Huh?” Something emerges beneath Gojo’s shadow, pulling the demon in and swallowing his body halfway into the wall. “And a shikigami user at that? Heheh, demon hunters might be becoming interesting this time around…”

Higuruma backs up once Gojo is consumed wholly by his umbra and disappears into the wall. He turns to you, “Is that it? How are we supposed—“

You cut him off. “Get back!”

The spot where the shadow that was once plastered on the wall appears again; this time, the dark shape changes from its black shade into a radiating sky-blue hue. Then, Higuruma backs away, cracks from the glowing tone flourish around the wall, and the old paint withers with ash. “Stay ready,” you warn with your hands coated with energy for whatever comes your way.

A fist emerges from the wall, two hands pulling the spot apart to create a more prominent crater. The fire in the fireplace is sucked inside the glowing hole, and blue horns and silver hair poke out with the torso. “Haaah, being sucked inside your own shadow is suffocating, ya know.” Six mischievous locks on the older hunter responsible for such a sneak attack. “Maybe I should give you a taste of your own medicine, newbie.”

Nanami doesn’t give him a chance, throwing a dagger to penetrate Gojo’s Limitless and pierce his forehead. A cry of pain is expectant yet not given, the creature pulling and discarding the weapon to let the wound heal. With a chuckle, he licks the blood drizzling to his lips. “That wasn’t nice, Nanamin. Be patient and wait for your…turn!” Gojo darts out of the wall with inhumane speed, the sand-haired man barely ricocheting the nails, eager to carve into his skin. Rapid kicks guarded and calculating every move, Nanami does what he can to keep up. Until a punch to his face knocks his goggles off, and a kick to his gut has him projected to another side of the room.

You clap your hands together, the power within your fingertips emits spider-like strings intertwined, and Gojo stops moving. The right hand comes up and slowly goes down, and Gojo suddenly goes to his knees with his hands up above as if holding – or preventing – something from pushing him onto the floor. “So much for ‘breaking’ me, huh.”

“—Khhh, fuck…” He grouches, trying to writhe from whatever spell you’ve enacted, yet appears more difficult than he figured. “Give me my…powers back, witch!”

“Surrender, now, Gojo Saotru.” Higuruma appears from behind, hailing his sword down to stab the vulnerable target now that he’s under your control.

“F-Fat…fucking chance!”

…Not entirely, though, forgetting one thing that acts with a mind of its own: Gojo’s tail. The thing extends to wrap around Higuruma’s wrists, squeezing painfully hard to throttle him and the weapon to the floor. Then, pupils dim from the glow of Gojo’s Six Eyes, directing onto your frame and blinding you instantly. Fuck! Whether you open or close your eyes, all you can see is the blinding strains of blue eyes that block your vision, your hands coming to your face and undoing the spell.

“Sorceress!” Higuruma calls out to you, standing up to initiate combat with the demon. Yet, Gojo already appears from behind and hits his nape hard, and the huntsman has no choice but to submit to unconsciousness. But that’s not all; he then grabs the knocked-out man and throws him in your direction. An action you couldn’t foresee and unfortunately got caught up in, unable to enumerate the force of the throw that has both bodies break several walls that lead to an empty room.

Nothing but pain stimulates your senses, aside from the disorienting eyes obstructing your vision slowly fading. You blink frequently, your body aching so much every time you move as you turn to your left where Higuruma’s immobile body lays.

“Hiromi, wake up…Hiromi!” It’s no use; his name isn’t enough to wake him, nor the slaps you pepper on his cheek. “Ghh, of all times to nap…Wake u—“

You hear a sound from the front, your head turning instantly to find a body before you: teleportation! Two fingers press to your forehead, and you, too, become immobile before succumbing to an abrupt rush of sleep. And the last thing you saw was an annoying, insolent grin on the face of a man with horns.

Oh, shit…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Nmm….mmm…”

You awoke to the sound of groaning, eyelids straining to rise. Moving a single muscle in your arm hurts like a bitch, pain permeating throughout tissues and nerves connected. The ringing in your ears begins to disappear, yet nevertheless irksome.

A few blinks ease the bleary eyes, registering that you are not in a familiar setting. The ceiling is easy to make out, and some warm lighting picked up, too. Must be candles. Old paintings, a dresser, and a nightstand — without a doubt, you weren’t in the living area anymore. You are now stuck in what appears to be a bedroom.

“Ghh…! Ahh, shit…”

That noise again. Turning to your side sluggishly, you see Higuruma’s figure lying parallel to you. “Hiromi,” you whisper to him, his name heard as the man grouses again. You place a hand on his shoulder; his clothing is sullied after being thrown around like you. “Hunter, are you all right?”

“Nnmm, yeah, I’m okay.” He answers, head still processing what has transpired. “Fuck, that was a throw. My head hurts…”

“Yeah, I know, you were knocked cold.” Your head turns to the sides; to your left are the windows that lead to the outside, and a couch sits to your right. “This must be one of the bedrooms of this mansion.”

Higuruma finally opens his eyes. “We’ve been separated from Kento.”

“Yes, and I can’t seem to sense his energy anywhere. Same with yours…” Lips flatten. “Damn it, Satoru must’ve subdued me somehow.”

“Hah, man. This is not how this was—“

“—Mmph! S-Stop, Gojo…!”

“Wh~y? You seem to be enjoying it.”

Two pairs of eyes shot wide at the familiar voices, catching the attention of you and the demon hunter’s eardrums. You two don’t move a single centimeter, allowing the room to respond to your suspicions, and more sounds and noises enter the fray—more…questionable sounds, at that.

You and Higuruma look to the couch, the source of where the voices were coming from, or rather behind it. Slow movements are taken to precaution, the two of you making your way to the furniture to creep and rest your knees away from the hard floor. Slowly lifting your heads, you two investigate what’s concealed by the couch’s camel back.

And what you see is beyond what you had envisaged.

There’s a bed that stands, and old canopy curtains draped along the wooden frame give it a luxurious appearance. Candles and lanterns are turned on by either bedside, basking a warm glow that goes with the tranquil safety of a bedroom. However, you weren’t alone; two occupants also keep the room company, and they’ve chosen the bed as the safest leisure spot.

What comes to mind when you think of a bed? Sleeping, of course. Possibly a place of rest whenever you come home from a long day’s work. And perhaps, maybe other explicit activities your mind can think of…But something as explicit as seeing a demon giving a demon huntman a blowjob? Hardly foreseeable.

There’s no mistaking it: the white-haired spirit’s head bobbing up and down was an easy catch, his tail waving from side to side as you picked up muffled moans that were somehow mute to you moments ago. Slurping noises are heard from a distance yet are too erotic of a sound for your ears to expect in this scenario, nonetheless. Nanami’s thighs spread for the ghoul, jerking and fighting to bounce with bitten lips, rosy cheeks, and golden-knitted eyebrows, an expression you never thought you’d seen from such a stoic man as the young man.

Nanami throws his head back, hitting the backboard of the bed. “Hnnmmmshit…Gojo, knock it–ahhaa!!-offff…!” His hands restrained to his back, probably from magic.

Gojo lifts his head and spits on the head of the human male’s cock. “You say that, but look how hard you’re getting,” he strokes the hunter with vigor, the human under his grasp arching his back to the touch. “Damn, who would’ve thought you had something this big; guess that’s expected of a demon hunter, huh.” His tongue laps around the pink glans, climbing to the urethra to tease; Nanami’s legs quiver more. “And look at all this precum…What’s got you all pent up?”

“—Tchhh, fuck, you!” Chocolate eyes hone onto the monster’s figure. “You are what, always giving me more shit to do…Mmmm, can’t stay still in one place…”

“Nope! You, of all people, should know that” he kisses the underside up before claiming the tip for a harsh suck, resulting in a yelp darting out of the blonde’s mouth — you covered your lips. “Besides, isn’t it my job to keep you on your toes, hmm? I’d be making your days pretty boring without me around.”

Nanami observes Gojo retreat his mouth off him, substituting with his hand to stroke the erection to maintain the warmth and friction. The evil spirit draws his face near the hunter’s, all six orbs of his flushed expression, and he scoffs humorlessly. “You call it ‘boring,’ but I’d say any day where I don’t have to deal with the carefree and annoying Gojo Satoru.”

Gojo’s prominent eyes narrow with an impish glint, and his milky nose brushes with the pink of Nanami’s. “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy my company. Especially with this mood, Na-Na-Min.”

You could not believe what played out before you: Gojo Satoru, one of [if not] the strongest demons to roam, kissing with the phlegmatic, young yet swift hunter, Nanami Kento!?!? Has the stars gone in disarray all of a sudden? Was there some dark omen befalling this hour?? You had no idea, your thoughts going a million miles to reach an adequate conscience. Yet how could you when you’re seeing the two opposites melt into the kiss, transitioning from a sweet peck into a more sinister and indecorous one!? Tongues exchanged within each other’s mouths, moans becoming louder with the increasing pace of Gojo’s hand on the excited hard-on. Such an unintended turn of events, especially for Higuruma — big wide eyes witnessing his subordinate be used.

The older huntsman brings you down to hide; however, the couch is no shield from the auditory commotion. W-What in the—what is the meaning of this? The two were in combat not long ago; how do we switch from a battle to an intimate moment like this? How long was I asleep for? Could Satoru have used something to cause Nanami to act like this? No, he doesn’t use spells like that; that’s more my domain…Unless, could he ha—

Your train of thought is put to a stop when something heavy lands on your right shoulder. Higuruma surprises you unexpectedly, placing his forehead on your shoulder. “Hunter?” You whisper with concern, shaking him by his arm. “Hunter Hiromi, what’s the matter? Are you fe—“

Words stop when you hear a deep inhale, and a shaky exhale exits from Higuruma’s lips. And then another, he turns his face to face where your neck is.

……Did…Did he just sniff me?

That’s not the weird part, though; the older hunter creeps into an area exposed from your dress’ cold shoulder. Another airy breath steams your skin before you’re met with something cold and hot. He kisses your collarbone slowly; the sensation makes you jump and stiff.

D-Did he just kiss me?!

“Hiromi?” You probe again, shaking him more. “What’s gotten into—“

“Sorceress,” his voice low to not grab the attention of the other men busy with themselves, yet loud enough for you to notice a behavior change. “My head, it’s…pounding like crazy…”

“Your head? Why, what’s—“ His head goes deeper into the crook of your neck, and your heart nearly leaps out your throat from his lips, kissing you again with a light puff. The contact has you suppress a gasp; your nerves under his mouth are hypersensitive for whatever reason! Okay, what the fuck? “Wh-what’s wrong? Why is your head aching all of a sudden?”

“You…smell so good.”

Wow, that’s not an answer you prepared for, both in mind and body.

Speaking of body, Higuruma’s hands creep on your frame, his left glides to your shoulder to hold – the calloused pads of his fingertips send shivers up your spine – and his right comes to wrap your waist, pulling you closer to him. And he begins to pepper your reactive skin with more kisses, sucking the flesh with a pucker after a lick. The soft smacks of his lips get wetter, and heat from your cheeks is more complicated to avoid.

“Hunter Hiromi…! Snap out of i—Ohhmm!!” Your lips clench to halt the yelp, almost jumping out of your esophagus. Fuck, why am I so fucking sensitive!? Hushed complaints fell on deaf ears, Higuruma still latching his lips onto your warm skin to suck.

It was then you looked at your bag positioned at the exact spot you were unconscious with the huntsman, tiny valves you stored sprawled out of their organized system. Then, you notice one shattered, pink liquid exuding to the floor burns into gas that fades with the atmosphere. You’re familiar with the potion you see, and your confusion switches to utter dread.

Before leaving on this mission with the huntsmen, you specifically remember telling your witch-in-training, Miwa, to stock up on your mini potions within your bag for defense. Knowing how ditzy that young, blue-haired witchling can be, she probably thought you meant every glass you had — no wonder the shit was a little heavier than usual!

Finally, it all begins to click: the flush of Nanami’s cheeks, Gojo’s unexpected sexuality, Higuruma’s demeanor switch, and your nerves acute at every touch — you got to be fucking kidding me! That broken vial was an aphrodisiac harboring a musk so strong it could bring down a humongous orc within minutes, a spell you had crafted for a customer only for your witchling to misplace it. Now, you’re here reaping the consequences in the worst situation possible! How did it break in the first place?! It could be from when you were thrown through multiple walls and went tumbling to the ground, the effects taking fruition when Gojo knocked you out earlier.

And to make matters worse, you’re not the only one undergoing this; three men now act like absolute horndogs because of this mistake, taking this mission to a complete 180° turn. Just when you thought this task was difficult enough, a curveball such as this throws you off. Unbelievable!

“For crying out loud,” you curse under your breath. “Hiromi, try to fight it! This isn’t—“ he kisses up your neck to your chin, and your attempts to push him off are weaker the closer he inches. Muscles tense when the hand to your waist glides to the crevice of your bottom — and a twitch between your legs. “Stop! Now is not the ti—Mmnn!” He cusps the flesh of your asscheek, bringing the other hand down to grope your ass. Holy Christ, “N-N, wait! Don’t touch it like…Haahhh.” Fuck these damn aphrodisiac effects!

“Fuck, you smell so fucking good, sorceress,” Higuruma inhales your scent brazenly. “That perfume is driving me nuts.” His fingers are hungrier as they fondle your butt, forcing you to rock your hips with his rhythm. The huntsman comes to your ear; his hot breath brushing the lobe causes your skin to crawl. And then he gives it a lick, and you jump.

“F–For Christ’s sake!” Your heartbeat hammers your chest. “Don’t do that, I’m sensitive…!” He doesn’t listen, lathering your ear with more licks and kisses. It sounds so erotic; his groans up close to your propinquity that you don’t know what to think right now. The heat between your thighs gets intolerable, imbuing your lower region more and more. “Don’t lick iiit…Ahaah…”

The both of you mesh together in each other’s warmth, Higuruma’s touches growing bolder to prompt you to bite down and stop your moans from getting louder. Your hands are still on his chest, yet exhibit not that much of a push, allowing the man to do as he wishes to make your brain turn into mush. Before you know it, his hands find the slits of your dress and meet bare skin, and you gasp at his calloused fingers ravaging your pantie-covered butt. Fingernails dig as he roughly kneads your rear muscles, silent screams pulled out of your body.

“Ughh, I can’t,” he speaks softly. “I can’t stop. I’m sorry — I’m so sorry, but” before you know it, his weight adds onto you and forces you to lie on your back. Great, now you’re really stuck under him. “I just can’t…you smell way too good. And you taste so good, too,” he peppers your cheek with a smooch just centimeters away from the corner of your lips. “God, you taste too good; it’s like I’m addicted.”

“Hahh–H-Hunter, not here…We shouldn’t—“

“No, stop,” Higuruma finally lifts his face; your field of vision met with glassy, hooded eyes and furrowed brows. Strands of his onyx hair fell out of its pushed-back form and stuck to the beads of sweat on his forehead, and a flush of red cascaded from one ear to the other. He’s heaving so desperately — as composure stands out, he looks awful! “Keep calling me…by my name.”

Your breath hitches as his face draws closer. “Hi–Hiromi,” and closer. “Hiro—Ohh!—…miii.” His knee meets the area between your legs, pushing onto where your underwear guards your chasm. And the thought that a potential wet spot might be protruding is embarrassing to think about.

“Good girl,” he praises, lips hovering tantalizingly over yours. “Good girl…”

Finally, after many teases all over your body, Higuruma places his lips over yours to claim. The kiss ignites a fire, instantly combusting within your nervous system and leaving you hot. The heat inside your panties worsens and has you writhing under him, hands grabbing onto the back of his black undershirt as he pushes his face into you more.

He drinks your squeaks, and his tongue slithers on your bottom lip, nibbling on it to evoke more helpless whimpers. “So sweet,” he mummers. “You taste so sweet, baby…”

Baby!? You had to be dreaming, your heart beating way too fast under these conditions, and your cunt spasming involuntarily. I can’t give in to this potion, I can’t…!

You chant these words internally, yet you can’t stop the quirks of your inner walls as Higuruma pushes his tongue to your teeth. It wasn’t suspected, your mouth opening up in surprise, not knowing that was exactly what the older huntsman wanted for him to intrude into your oral cavity with his wet muscle. You gasp aloud, the sensation of his moist tongue swirling around your mouth and dancing with yours tightens the grip on his shirt.

At this point, everything is happening all at once. You don’t realize your resilience slipped as you whine underneath the man’s bow, heads turning to stay locked with each other’s lips as the pecks grow prurient by the second. Your hips sway to and fro on their own, alongside Higuruma’s, as his hips rock to your tempo. Your legs came around his waist to keep him close, too enamored by him sucking your tongue to even notice.

Then, all of a sudden, something sneaks inside your dress and ventures south and pushes the damp spot of your underwear into your leaking cunt. Electric shocks shoot to your head, and it takes everything in your power not to scream. “—Thhh!! F-Fffaahhh…!! Hi-Hiromi, what are you—“

“Holy shit, I didn’t know how wet you were down here,” A finger presses down into the area, and more liquids flood out of your opening and expand the dampness. “Damn. It’s so hot.”

“Noo, stop it, don’t touch—“ the forefinger swipes up and down and gets swallowed by your clothed outer labia. Your legs quiver, “I’m too sensitized right now! If you keep touching me, you’re gonna–Aahhh!” He brushes your clitoris; oh, this is very bad. “I’m gonna break…!”

“Oh? But I can feel you aching under my fingertips,” he adds his middle finger to circle your slit, the movements tortuous to endure. “Doesn’t it hurt if I leave you just hot and twitchy like this? Don’t you want me to ease it?” You can’t reply, too distracted from his digits, pushing your underwear aside for them to feel the raw flesh of your bareness. “I think you do; don’t you feel how crazy you’re wanting my fingers inside you right now?”

“Stop saying that! It’s embarrassing…! Mmoohh…” Higuruma skims around the split of your vagina, and your breathing gets heavier. “—Nnnmm, fuck, it’s so hooot…”

He kisses your cheek and the corner of your lips. “It’s okay, baby, I got you…” He speaks so low you could melt. “Just relax for me, okay?”

You only reply to him with another passionate kiss, being way more receptive than the last by shoving your tongue into his. The hunter takes this to advantage and patiently pushes his middle finger into your slit. You whine at the insertion, mouth agape as the entire digit nestles inside your warmth. Higuruma instantly greets you with scrapes against your inner texture, the blunt of his fingertip itching your walls to the point of your toes curling.

The haze increases, coherent thoughts turn into fog, and your senses are overwhelmed by the lower commotion. You suck on Higuruma’s tongue with a hum, descending to the wiggle of his finger migrating your insides. Jesus Christ, it felt so good. Was it real, or was it because of the effects of the aphrodisiac, making every fiber of your body hypersensitive? Regardless, you can’t deny how enrapturing it is to have him ease your itch.

Once he adds his ring finger into your wet cavern, you grab hold of his shoulders as both digits push into you until they’re knuckles deep. “Oohhh, ohhhmyG—Hiromi, Hiro!” His name is the only thing that feels easy to blubber out. “I can’t, it feels so good…Ohhh, right there, please…”

“Yeah, you like it when I do this?” He curls both fingers to graze your upper wall, and you jolt upward. “Or…this?” He stretches them apart in a scissor motion, and you nearly choke on your spit.

“Sh-Shtop it,” you croak. “I’ll cum, I’ll fucking cummm!!” The chuckle you hear from above is smooth like honey, unable to fight the twitch of your walls.

“Go on, cum on my fingers, sorceress,” he coaxes. “And then I’ll go right between your legs, strip that underwear off, and lick you down for making such a mess on me until you’re sore and want nothing but my dick.”Ho. Ly. Shit. “You hear me?” You nod hurriedly, earning another short laugh. “Then cum, sweetie.” Higuruma increases the flick of his fingers, shoving them inside you as deep and fast as he can to where you don’t know how to contain your choked sobs. He gives you his lips again to quiet and calm you down while he effortlessly caresses your velvety channel.

Nonstop motions prompt you to buck your hips and arch your back until you feel as though you’re falling from a peak. Inner muscles spasm erratically around the hunter’s digits, legs tensing up with tremors, and your wails taken by Higuruma, who moans lovingly along with you. Your frame jerks to him with every wave of your climax, and shocks clatter up to make you dizzy and foggy.

“Mm, there you go, darling,” Higuruma coos before placing a chaste peck on your forehead, removing his fingers from you to see them coated in the fresh slick you’ve gushed. “So good.”

“Wow, what a show!”

Suddenly, the lukewarm feelings soothed around your figure abruptly halt once a new voice shatters you and Higuruma back to reality. Your eyes leave each other and look up to find six on your close-knitted bodies, blue orbs glued onto you two as if to examine you exceptionally near.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” Gojo waves a hand. “Please go on~.”Higuruma is the first to make a move, but a firm grip catches his wrist, throws him into the air fluidly, and lands on the bed with no grace. “Not what I meant, newbie.”

“Satoru!” You try to slap him, but he grabs your wrist as well. “What are you doing—“

“Uhh, shouldn’t I be asking you the same question, witch?” He brings his face close. “I never took you, so stoic and all business, for a bit of pervert. If I knew you sounded cute and desperate having your pussy teased with, I’d have you wrapped my finger a long time ago.”

“Tah, I’m the pervert? You seemed to enjoy stuffing your face with Kento’s dick. Quite good at it yourself; is that your favorite sport? Something you like to do when you’re not terrorizing towns?”

“What, don’t know what it looks like to have a good time? And not to point fingers, but let’s not forget your potion has us all like this.”

You grimace. “Maybe don’t throw people at about five walls, or something will break!”

“Maybe don’t bring such powerful erotic potions to a battle, and we wouldn’t have that problem! But don’t worry,” Gojo then lifts you off the couch in bridal style. “You’ll take responsibility.”Before you could argue back, the evil spirit teleports you two back to the bed where he primarily was. Now, four bodies lay on the huge old yet soft mattress, all under the potion’s spell, and share a mutual lustful atmosphere. “How long does this aphrodisiac last?”

“…Two hours max.”

“Well, you’ve been knocked out for nearly thirty minutes. So, while we still have the time,” he pushes you off him to where Higuruma lies. “Why don’t you help these two with your mishap?”

“It was an accident—“

“Aye, an accident that now has Mister Big-Nose over here hard as a rock.” You look down to where Gojo’s pointing and see a tent jutting out of Higuruma’s pants. Your lips flatten at the sight, same with the owner of the boner. “Why the faces? What happened to all that talk about eating them out?”

“T-That wasn’t what—“

“Oh c’mon, newbie, you sure ‘bout that? Look,” Gojo maneuvers to where you sit and picks up a leg, moving your dress out of the way and removing your panties to discard. And now, your wet and sticky cunt is out for the men to see. Good Lord, Satoru!! “Look at how wet you made them feel back there; they were really excited about how good you made them feel. And I’m sure they look forward to your handsome face sitting in between their juicy legs.”

Had the silence been longer than a few seconds, you would’ve told Gojo off and left the other be. But the sound of an unbuckled belt is heard as you observe Higuruma sliding his pants down and revealing the erect limb free. The sight of precum sliding down the angry pink tip down to his balls is brain-altering. He then loosens his shirt, letting his stomach breathe, and your eyes catch the raven-happy trail from above his lower abs down to his pubes. Holy absolute fuck.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Gojo pushes you further. “There’s a nice face waiting to be sat!”

“Shut up!” You wish to throw curses at him all you want. However, you crawl to where Higuruma’s face is crooked and sheepishly lift your dress to place your knees and align yourself. “Please…forgive me, Hiromi.”

“It’s okay, sweetpea,” your heart skips at the nickname and his hands finding your waist. “Nice and slow, okay?”

You listen to his command and slowly descend your hips to Higuruma’s face, toes quirking at the brush of his noise hitting your taint. A sharp gasp leaves your lips when his tongue greets your labia, swishing around to intake the nectar dripping out of it. “Ohhh, shit…” You hum as he groans, your hips having a mind of their own and swerving around, yet the man beneath doesn’t fail to latch his lips onto you, his hands now curling to your butt.

A hand finds its way to where his erection stands tall, your fingers circling the shaft before motioning up and down. More excessive cum escapes out the urethra to paint your fingernails and tips, veins pulsing against your palm as you jerk him off. He then laments when your free hand cups his balls to massage, kneading one of the testicles gingerly like rough dough.

From your peripheral, you spot Nanami coming into view, and you cry out when his peer sticks his tongue into your opening and slurps. “Kento.”

“Sorry,” the blonde man stands in front of you while fisting his cock. “Might need your help here…”

You titter, hearing him sigh heavily as you bend down and blow on his cockhead. “May I?” He nods to you and caresses your cheek, guiding your lips to take in his tip and gradually swallow his inches. You suck him in till your mouth is busy with his length, moving your tongue around the underside, which makes Nanami hiss.

“Hahhh, fuck, yes, love,” you hear him from up above, his hands coming to your head to maintain while he jerks his hips into your mouth. His balls meet your chin with every push, and his musk is all that attacks your nostrils. The fog in your head makes you dizzier and dizzier, humming on the dick you’re swallowing.

And you can’t forget the snow-haired person who brings his hand to your chest area and rips the seams open. Your breasts are now out and exposed to the open air, and a nipple finds its way onto the flat of a reptile-like tongue. “Awww, cupcake, you’ve been hiding these tits from me, too? Heh, not fair…”

The only sounds that you can pick up are all raunchy, squelching noises from between your legs, slopping wet cues as you slurp on cock, and Gojo’s moans as he sucks and plays with your breasts. If you thought things were overwhelming earlier, you’re sure as hell finding yourself drowning in your senses. Gojo nibbles on your nipples, his teeth grazing the buds, and have your thighs jolt. Meanwhile, Higuruma’s hands keep your asscheeks glued to him as he drinks up more of your essence while pushing his tongue into your slit, fucking your insides for more fluids to coat his tastebuds.

Nanami’s hip work dials up to a faster tempo, stuffing your face with more of his cock to the point that he hits the back of your throat frequently. Your eyes start to water as you begin to taste the salty precum lathering with your spit. Yet you slurp on him with a whine, sucking harshly onto the top, where you push your tongue to the split of his urethra to toy with.

The sand-haired man throws his head back. “—Khhfff, fuck,” his head pounding while you dance your wet muscle around the crown of his shaft and frenulum. “Ohhhh, Goddamn it…! Just like that, my love, like that…”You listen to Nanami’s requests and continue, your hand stroking faster onto Higuruma’s cock with vigor.

“Very good, you three, very good…” Gojo eggs you on, removing his face from your chest and tapping your cheek to release the girth. “Now it’s time to switch it up.”The ghoul then pushes Nanami onto his back; this time, you’re straddling him while Gojo urges Higuruma to straighten up. “Nanami’s been such a nice guy, huh? Why not reward him with a taste of what this newbie was feasting on, cutie?”

Your eyes travel down to where Nanami’s cock is pressed to your belly, and you lift your ass and grab him to kiss your folds with his glans. You both share a look and whimper aloud as his tip makes it inside your vagina, thanks to your come, and you leisurely drop your ass onto him. “Hoooh, fuck, feels so good…!” You shrill, and your hips begin to go to and fro.

“And as for you,” Higuruma groans as Gojo takes hold of him and aligns his glans to your ass. “Fuck them good here, got it?”

The raven-haired man’s hands meet your buttcheeks, and you go ahead and bend down for him to get the full view. “Damn,” he gulps. Before doing anything, Higuruma moistures his fore and middle fingers with his spit and circles around your asshole gently until they get past the puckered sphincter. You remind yourself to relax as he readies your ass, his fingertips pushing in and out to adjust the cavern for what’s to come. And after a minute, he pulls them out and substitutes them for his ready member, and you scream in mute as he pushes himself into your rear end. “Oh, fuck, fuck!” He swears with a bitten lip. “So tight…Hahhh…feel so good, darling.”

The two human men rock into your holes simultaneously, having your frame join with the cadence they inflict to follow. Both your holes are ravished, Nanami’s dick turning your insides into goo with every graze to your sweet spots, and you almost shut down from the occasion of surprise pokes of your cervix. The man behind you plows your butt with purpose, shoving his member deep into your rear channel and rubbing on the walls that have you unable to fight the drool escaping.

And last but not least, Gojo grabs your chin and pushes his tip to your puffy lips. “Hey, baby. Mind I have a turn with those lips of yours?”You roll your eyes with a smile before curling your tongue around his crown and taking it inside your lips. The demon sighs under your lips, bucking his hips impatiently for you to suck every inch of him. “Fucking—Nnnmm! Your tongue…Gggahh!!”

All three men go wild in your grasp. Nanami’s pace slips to an erratic fashion, rutting deep with accurate rubs to your G-spot that leave you mumbling onto Gojo’s dick. Higuruma nearly loses himself while pistoning his pelvis to your ass, his forehead coming to your shoulder to rest. “Christ, your ass is driving me crazy.” He kisses the space between your shoulder and neck and bites down. You cry and suck on Gojo’s cock harshly, making the demon hiss above you.

“—Uugghh, so tight!” Nanami grabs your waist with firm hands and drills himself upward faster. “Fuck it, I need to cumm…!!”

“Me too, Kento—shit—me too…” His older peer slurs, burrowing his face into your neck to lick and nibble on your skin. “Almost..there….!”

It isn’t long before all three men come at you with a unioned tempo, and you’re way too engrossed in the sensations to notice how wet you’re getting from the constant pleasures. Your frame is used as their plaything as they fuck your holes, borderline degrading, yet you can’t deny how good they feel for relieving the horny itch you’re feeling. Fuck! More, more, more!! Continuous rough ruts to your chasms and mouth have you numb, and your scream is muffled as Gojo grabs for your face to bury his cock deep into your throat as he dispenses his load into you.

Nanami and Higuruma aren’t far from joining him, too, the two climaxing simultaneously and filling you to the brim with their white, thick essence. Groans bounce off each other and the bedroom walls; three bodies pant heavily and heave above and beneath you, as they experience the peak of their crescendos. And after a few more thrusts and jerks, they soon allow themselves to slide down from their high.

The huntsmen from behind take his cock out of your ass, a string of his cum still linking to your puckered hole. Now, with him off, you swallow down the last of Gojo’s semen before withdrawing your face and raising your hips off of Nanami’s dick.

Gojo comes to you to place his forehead on your sweat one. “Holy shit, that was good,” he praises as he cups your cheeks to squish them. “That’s one way to take me down. But, are ya ready to let me fuck that pretty cunt of yours?”You don’t say anything, just grabbing his chin to lure him into a kiss, which he anticipates…

…However, he doesn’t meet your lips as expected. Instead, while he’s distracted, you sneak a hand to the chain that wrings around your neck. A locket that you open the pendant to grab for a tablet and quickly shove it inside Gojo’s mouth. Six eyes widen as you cover his mouth shut, forcing him to swallow whatever it is that’s inside his oral cavity.

And before he has the idea of pushing you off and overpowering you, Nanami is quick to grab hold of his arms and restrict them to his back. Higuruma takes his lesson from earlier and grabs Gojo’s tail before it goes around, making people fly off. It takes a group effort; however, the freakish devil’s strength weakens in seconds, and his eyes roll until the lids fall over. Slumber hits the creature, unconscious both in mind and body, as his figure slumps on Nanami’s chest. The blonde hunter gently places the white-haired being down as you all watch him fall into a deep sleep.

“Finally,” you exclaim and let your body fall to the mattress in exhaustion. And the other huntsmen do the same. “For God’s sake….”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Thank you again for your help, demon hunters!”

“Yes, we don’t know what we could’ve done without you two.”

“You two make the demon hunter guild proud; may Yaga recognize the talent laid after his years!”

The rain was long gone, exchanging its grey clouds with the gleaming shine of the sun and the vibrant blue of the sky. Everyday life finds its way back into the swing of things now that things are not in turmoil. And to close a mission down on a sunny day seems like a reasonable bid for closure.

Coming from your lair deep into the woods – after scolding your witchling, Miwa, for that aphrodisiac potion accident of hers and cooking a contraceptive tea – you walked toward the town to appear before the demon guild. Eyes and leers of the common folk linger onto you as you make your steps amongst them, ignoring their unconcealed judgment. Of course, it makes you uncomfortable that discrimination follows you every which way, especially after lending aid to the demon problem they so desperately needed. But alas, you didn’t come here for recognition, so you continue to walk until you reach the wooden tavern-like building.

At the front, you find a pair of familiar faces — Nanami and Higuruma — conversing with a local townswoman who thanks the huntsmen for their service. Neither party seems to notice your appearance the moment you tread closer to the front. Which is fine; again, you’re not here for celebration or acknowledgment. You’re so used to being cast aside that it practically feels innate.

That is, until you spot something beside the woman, a smaller being glued to her hip. A child, you pick up: a little boy with raven spiky hair similar to a sea urchin and slim yet puffy cheeks signature to a toddler. And his blueish green eyes are honed in on you unmistakably. It’s a bit of a funny image to see a tiny human be bold enough to look at you yet still hide their presence behind the shadow of their guardian. Whims of a child, you suppose.

The woman bows to the men with gratitude before heading off in business, only to stop in her tracks once she sees you. And to your surprise, she beams a smile. She is undoubtedly the child’s mother – her unkept hair proving hereditary. “You must be the sorceress, right?” She inquires, and you answer with a silent nod. “Good, because I wanted to come express my thanks to you and the huntsmen for having to take down that demon for our sakes! I imagine it wasn’t easy, nor was it something you wished to be burdened with.”

“No, it’s quite all right,” you shook your head as the woman bowed to you. “The demon and I have had multiple encounters before, and I’m the nearest person outside of town who’s well-versed in the demon realm and beyond. So, it’s only natural that I’d be pulled in to help the cause somehow.”

The townswoman nods along to your explanation, her smile still present. “Regardless, you did save this small city of ours. I don’t know how to thank you properly for your service, but I hope you know I am sincerely grateful you lent your prowess along with the hunters.”

“Your gratitude is well-taken. I ask that you try to stay far from trouble and be safe and vigilant.”

“Yes, I understand…And you, Megumi,” you both turn to the child you sensed observing you during the entire conversation. “Don’t you have anything you wish to say to the sorceress who saved our home?”

Quiet, the vibe you get from the silent kid who keeps his eyes on you as if you’re a stranger. Typical behavior of a child. He slowly comes behind his mother and pulls something out of his pocket. With delicacy and steadiness, his balled fist points to where you stand, and you decide to crouch down and extend a hand to him to place something.

“…Is this for me?” You ask. In your palm lies a green four-leafed plant, a clover. Not crumpled or torn in any way, ideally in its original form, and you could tell it was treated with care—a gift.

Megumi gives a curt nod. “I went to the fields yesterday with my sister and found some four-leaf clovers. Mama said they give good luck and protection to those with them. I gave one each for the hunters, so I saved this one for you.”

You have to be honest: you’re not one to gift-give in your profession. Hell, you’re not even accustomed to being handed gifts, either! It’s a custom foreign to you as you’re deemed as an outcast in many eyes of this town. Gratitude or hospitality isn’t something you’d expect from anywhere…But it seems that is different in a child’s world, for you can tell his heart is in a genuine place.

With a smile, you bring the clover to where your necklace sits above your chest. Muttering an incantation, the plant glows and disintegrates itself and is absorbed by the pendant of your locket. “Now, I’ll be sure to have good luck wherever I go, thanks to you, little one.”The young boy’s eyes flashed with wonder from your minuscule display of magic, flashing an awkward yet confident smile as you stood upright and bowed to him and his mother. “Be safe and strong for your sister and mother, Megumi.”

The child nods to your words before you bid his mother farewell, and the two spiky-headed ones walk by to wherever they came from, leaving you to the matters you initially intended to take care of.

Speaking of matters, “Sorceress,” you turn to find the huntsmen walking to greet you. Nanami is the first to talk, “You came in just in time. He’s awake now but still experiencing some grogginess.”

Higuruma adds on. “And we made sure to call him up to appear today, so things should be going smooth this time around, as you said.”

“Good,” you reply. “Thank you for your cooperation on this mission, hunters. The townpeople can return sleeping soundly now that Gojo isn’t around to cause a ruckus.”

“No, we should be thanking you.” The sand-haired man interjects. “Yaga had spoken highly of you and your professionalism during the handful of times you two had worked together. Without you, dealing with Gojo would’ve been more of a hassle I’d want to deal with.”

“Kento’s right,” the dark-headed one agrees. “Weapons and shikigami aren’t enough to bring down a strong demon lord such as Gojo; we needed as much help as possible. And it was an honor to see you in action for myself.”

“I thank you, gentlemen,” you say with downcasted eyes. “However, I apologize that it was on my bad that the situation went to a more…ridiculous turn,” you peer to see that the two men avoid your gaze at the nuanced mention. “Nevertheless, we can put this behind us and not bring it up with anyone else. Agreed?”

The two men nod concurrently.

“And, perhaps…If the wind finds me at the right time and you two wish to work together again, I would…consider it a little more lenient the next time.” Maybe you shouldn’t have said that because now you can barely look at the two huntsmen in the eyes. For crying out loud, you’ve seen each other naked; how can you ever work with each other again after such unprofessional circumstances?

But you guess they don’t seem to find a problem with it, seeing as they both share a smile at you. “Thank you, sorceress.” The older male speaks for both of them. “We hope to see you again when requiring your assistance.”

The younger hunter nods with soft brown eyes. “It would be wise to lend you a helping hand just as our former leader did for you.”

And for the second time today, a tiny smile returns to curling your lips before you straighten yourself up.

“Well, until then, what should we do with you, Gojo Satoru?”

Although the expressions of thanks and appreciation served as a pleasant stratum to begin the day, a conflict still needed to be solved. That is why the three of you walked inside, deep into the demon hunter’s guild, past the many hunters who watched you make your way to the hall at the back of the building. Many rooms are stationed to the right side, yet only one harbors a recognizable aura for you to trot in front of and open the door when no one is looking.

Lo and behold, the sole being in this cell-like room is Gojo Satoru, the ghoul sitting on the dirty ground with chains restricting his feet and wrists. Talismans with small writing decorated his biceps, shoulders, and abdomen, the mark of your subjugation as his power isn’t as high as before. It is positioned at a level where it occasionally bursts until it returns to a low steady.

“You tell me, witch,” the demon answers your question. “We’ve had this dance a million times already, sending me back to the demon realm and supposedly ‘promising’ not to come back.”

“Well, you are being sent back this time,” Nanami crosses his arms. “Yet instead of ‘supposedly,’ we’re going to have to make that a definitive.”

Gojo cackles, bearing his canines to shine. “Oh, bullshit. Me staying in the realm ‘forever’ forever when I’m aware that half of my Limitless has been stripped from my possession? Don’t you know you should never touch what belongs to a demon; whatever is taken from me might be taken from you tenfold.”

“That’s why there are demon hunters in the first place,” Higuruma sighs and slumps on the door surface. “Your powers were taken under contract after the carnage you caused last time. Judging by how we handle you this time, you might lose the other half of your Limitless.”

“This has nothing to do with you, big-nose.” Gojo retorts. “If I weren’t chained up right now, you’d be the first to jump at.”

The hunter raises a brow. “Is that a threat?”

“Perhaps. Although…” devilish lips curl to a smirk. “After what happened last night, maybe I’ll have some fun with you and Nanamin one of these days if—“

“Satoru.” You cut him off, the conversation steering to where it’s not supposed to go. Higuruma takes the white-haired spirit’s words for thought and stands up straight with more alertness, his blonde subordinate fixing his glare on the same. “If it weren’t for your status and relations with this realm, your fate would’ve been handled differently. Be thankful that it was me and the hunter guild who had to deal with you this time; anyone else would have your head on a spike and your body torched.”

“Awww, what caring babysitters you guys are~,” Six blue eyes roll in one direction with a click of their teeth. “Oi, witch, you know it doesn’t matter what you do with me. I could be thrown off the grid, shackled to the demon realm, held in some dark supernatural prison, or even killed — no matter what, as long as you’re the holder of half my powers, I will find you. And I don’t care if it means ripping your pretty face to shred; I’m getting my Limitless and Infinity back.” Eyes gleam with a fury, like ocean waves in a wayward thunderstorm. “Believe that.”

“I do believe it. And I will wait for the day you learn to find me, not vice versa.”You take his threat with earnestness. “However, until that day comes, I will reprimand you for this case. Along with the help of an old friend of ours.”

He sucks his teeth. “And who would that be?”

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK!!

Gojo’s ears perked before the harsh bangs were put on the wooden door. You pan to Higuruma, who nods silently before he turns to unlock the locks and grip the handle. With the pull, a silhouette befalls into a vision of all four occupants in the room. A tall, muscular man who appears to be in his forties minimum, head-shaven except for the spiky top, adorning a wolf pet over his shoulders with leather slashes. Gojo’s six eyes widen when he sees the man’s face: the familiar thick eyebrows sitting above minor yet dominant eyes and a mustache and goatee adorned on the chin.

“W-Well, hello there, Yagaaa~,” the snow-haired being switches his demeanor to a chipper tune now that a new visitor has come to pay a visit. “What a lovely surprise to see you! You clean up nicely. Is that a ring I see on your finger—“

“Gojo Satoru.” A guttural voice puts a stop to the ramble. “Last time I saw you, I put you in a chokehold that had you screaming for your mama and promised I’d put you in another worse than that the next time I see you.”

You can sense the demon’s aura dwindle like a tiny flame, and you can’t help but find amusement; no one better to put the ghoul back into his place than Masamichi Yaga, the seasoned, skillful, and former commander of the demon guild. “Is…today the day?”

“Hmph.” The older man pulls up a chair to sit in front of Gojo. “Possibly, yet the sorceress pleaded for your case and told me to withhold until after our discussion.”

“Oh, how sweet of you, Miss Sorceress!” Now he wants to shower you with affection; whatever happened to that threat he made a minute ago? “That’s nice to know because I have a lot I would like to get off my chest before you sta—BHROOOF!!” Gojo’s cut off from a swift kick to the chin Yaga inflicts, causing him to fly to hit his head on the wall and fall to his back. “OWWWW?!!!??!!! What was that for?!”

“For bringing me out of my retirement,” Yaga cracks his neck with a heavy sigh. “You little bastard.”

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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munsonsboy · 7 months ago

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steve's been knocking on doors trying to find eddie. he would be annoyed that all he's found are couples and groups in states of undress but this is some random house party, so it's what steve expects.

plus he's too relieved that he hasn't walked in on eddie being a part of any of it.

steve knows it's gross to feel this way. he trusts eddie 100%. it's not right to let past relationship problems cloud his judgement when it comes to what he has with eddie - who hasn't given him any reason to doubt.

but eddie is so new. been together for only 2 months now new.

and tommy was so old. childhood friend/fucked up situationship for 10 long years old. just ended for good a year and a half ago old.

so even though he knows, hopes, prays, that it's ridiculous to compare the two together, steve still checks the bathroom and makes sure the man on his knees in front of some blonde cheerleader isn't his boyfriend.

and then promptly ducks down to avoid a brush the blonde cheerleader throws at him.

'sorry!' steve apologizes. he hurries to slam the door closed and makes his way to the very last room at the end of the hallway.

maybe he left? eddie didn't want to serve here anyway, rich druggie clientele be damned. so even though they came together, maybe eddie had an emergency and-

steve cuts that thought off because well. he found eddie.

'baby!!' his boyfriend exclaims, alone, sitting on the floor in the middle of some random strangers room with a jar of peanut butter. he's got a spoon full of it half way up to his mouth and his eyes are red.

at least 4 brownies deep red.

the wave of relief he feels is actually pretty concerning, but steve will think about that some other time since he's too busy trying not to laugh at how ridiculous the long haird idiot looks.

'eddie, what are you doing?'

eddie looks guilty and for a split second steve thinks maybe he did walk in on eddie with someone else. (maybe he's waiting on them? maybe they already left?)

then eddie holds up the jar of peanut butter and says in the saddest voice, 'i needed it stevie, i don't remember how long it's been since i've had peanut butter. but i didn't think you'd find me! stay back! don't you come any closer!'

so this whole time while steve's been worried that eddie was off doing what tommy used to do to make him jealous, eddie just snuck off and hid away to eat peanut butter because steves' allergic.

starting to snicker, steve goes to sit across from him. 'i can be around it babe, im not gonna die.'

eddie rushes to close the jar, spoon shoved inside and all. he gives steve the stink eye. 'i know what peanut allergies can do to some people. i refuse to watch you blow up like a tomato.'

steve rolls his eyes and reaches out, acting like he's gonna touch the jar.

eddie yells. jumping to his feet, he scurries out of the closet like an over grown rat, 'steve harrington this is exactly why I was trying to eat this away from you!'

steves laughing now, giggling like a hyena. he can't believe he ever doubted this man.

later that night - after eddie has showered and brushed his teeth at least three times - when they're tucked away in eddies room under the covers, steve talks to him about his freak out. eddie apologizes for leaving him alone at a strangers party like that. he holds him close, gives steve a ton of kisses and promises to create a DND character that represents tommy.

'i'll turn him into a toad and kill him off in the most gruesome way imaginable. he'll be murdered to death, the kids will be traumatized. it'll be great. just you wait and see, my love.'

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #🐚#my stuff #idk how dnd works

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deepestnightcolor · 9 months ago

Note

Oml I love your writing, I just binged all the Sam fics! I saw you take requests for Harvey 👀 any chance for a “confidential check up?”

Hello, dear anon!~ Thank you so much for both the compliment and request. This was my first time writing a full-blown Harvey fic - and I hope I did suffice :D

Thanks for your request, and thank you so much for your time and love! <3

ᴀ/ɴ: as I said, this is my first time writing a Harvey fic and I am still sick, so I hope it will suffice!!

PS: I hid two Easter eggs this time. >:)

PPS: maybe 2,5, one being a slight nod at @sashiavi >:))

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Harvey (SDV) x Fem!eader

ᴡᴄ: 4194 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: medical misconduct, unprotected sex, light nipple play, seductive reader, Harvey's a little insecure.

☾ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴅʏ ☽

A secret that you'd never share? Simple and carnal, your secret was. Primitive, even. You had only made the appointment with Doctor Harvey to finally wrap the man around your finger.

You had tried it fair and square at first, you seriously had! Coming by whenever he had time, bringing him little gifts you were sure he'd like; trying to engage him in conversation.

However, Harvey always seemed so busy, so professional. Telling you to take care and stay healthy and giving you advice on how you achieve just that. Always looking out for you, always gentle in his words and behavior. And by Yoba, it made you want to break him even more.

Also, what better way was there to implement your plan than to catch the little lamb where it felt the safest and most confident? Of course, it was a little unfair, pretending you needed his help and skills to treat an injury, but then again you did. Just not in the way Harvey would expect. He had loads of chances to get the hint, but nothing had worked. Not even when you had fished out the shortest skirt possible out of your closet and wore it with a top that left barely anything to one's imagination, accidentally falling on your knees right in front of Harvey, showing off those lace panties of yours. No, that hadn't worked either. Harvey had let out a gasp that made you believe you had finally done something to him, just to rush to your side and ask if you were okay. If you needed help, if you were dizzy. Fuck did you want to cry out that you were dizzy for him, his touch. Instead, you gave him a sweet smile, fluttering your lashes at him as you told him no, you were fine. But thank you so much, Harvey!

You had scrambled to your feet and made your way back to the farm with your head hanging, and that was the point you decided it would probably need to be all or nothing.

“So, what brings you here today? Maru only noted that you requested to see me. I hope you didn't hurt yourself?” Harvey asked, scooting closer on his rolling chair. You were already propped up on the table, smiling sweetly at Harvey.

You had picked out an excellent outfit for the day, if you were allowed to say so. A blouse that was easy to open up and discard, and a skirt that seemed modest enough yet was nothing but of the mere purpose of covering up your lack of panties. And you were hurting. Terribly so, even. For him.

“Nono, Doc. I just, you know. I've been feeling some kind of way. Under the weather, you might say.” You leaned forward a bit now, running your fingers through your hair before twirling a strand around your finger. You were met with a pair of green-brown eyes, so full of consideration and empathy. It made you want to just sit on his face and make him spill all of his care onto your sweet pussy until you could feel it in every part of your body.

“I see! And how does that show? Do you have a headache? Do you feel more tired than usual?”

So sweet and caring, Doctor Harvey. Too cute to not bite.

You let out a sigh as if you were contemplating, biting around on your lower lip. “No, that's not it. I don't know how to describe it, it's…embarrassing.”

The doctor looked up at you again, putting away his notepad now. He gave you a sweet, genuine smile. A hand landed on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"There’s absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. This is a safe, confidential space; nothing will leave these walls.”

Go on, little lamb. Step right into the trap.

You leaned back a bit, pushing out your chest now. “Well, it's my chest. It's been so…so tender lately.”

A hum. That's all you got. A hum. Or so you thought. Because if you looked closely, you could see more. His moustache was twitching as his eyes flickered down to your breasts. Harvey was a professional, though. He quickly cleared his throat, nodding at you.

“Alright, I will glad- I would be happy- let's take a look, shall we?”

It took a lot from you to not break out in a grin; having the man break out in a stutter like that? It definitely was a step forward.

“Yes, please.” You needed to pretend to be innocent now - you didn't want to scare him away, after all.

Your fingers were quick to unbutton your shirt and your upper body was already bare before the doctor could even properly turn back to you. For a moment, his motions seemingly stuttered to a halt, his hands still clasped together from rubbing the disinfectant on them.

His moustache twitched again as he approached you, taking a seat on the chair again.

“Alright, my hands might be a little cold from the disinfectant, but I should be quick.”

Fuck, you hoped that he wouldn't be. You gave him a nod and what you hoped to be a shy smile, pushing your chest towards him a little.

And then, finally…Fucking finally you felt tender fingers on the soft skin of your breasts. It left you breathless for a moment, helpless as he traced the curves of your tits so expertly.

The moan falling from your lips really wasn't an accident, but Harvey, dear sweet Harvey, decided to let you off the hook. Ever the gentleman, wasn't he?

“Did that hurt?” He asked, his eyes flickering up to you, gently squeezing the flesh again. This time you looked straight into his eyes as you moaned, licking your lips. “No, it just��tingles,” you grinned, eyes following Harvey's dropping hands with dismay.

“Well, I did not find any lumps or irritations that could explain the tenderness. Did any lifestyle changes happen? Or perhaps a new medication?”

Pretending to be thinking, you swung your legs back and forth. One of your feet got in contact with his shin, slowly tracing upwards only to slide down again.

The man’s face was stoic, eyes trained on your face with a stern look.

Yet again, the twitching of his moustache betrayed him.

The thought that you hadn't responded yet reeled you in a little: “No…Well. Maybe kind of? You know…I've been having, well. Thoughts about someone. Thoughts about them touching me, wanting me,” you began, your foot wandering to his knee.

“Could that be it?”

A blush had spread on his cheeks now, and Yoba did you love to see it. He picked up the notepad and quickly jotted something down, then nodded.

“I assume that could be it-”

“And what do I do about it, Doctor? It hurts, after all.”

Immediately, his attention is back on you completely. “Hurts? Where?”

A vague pointing to your body made Harvey's hand reach out, touching your stomach. “Here?”

You shook your head, letting your foot wander down again. “Lower.”

His brows furrowed now and he let his hand slide towards your abdomen. “Here? Are they cramps?”

Again, you shook your head.

“Lower.”

He was hesitating now, looking up at you with an uncertainty you had never seen before, and it felt like another small victory.

“Could you…uh. Point me to where it hurts?”

Click - the trap was snapping shut.

It didn't need many words; you opened up your legs without an ounce of hesitation, revealing your cunt, all wet and ready for the doctor. “There.”

Harvey swallowed thickly, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words. Words that wouldn't have him lose his license. It wasn't like he hadn't seen genitals before - much more than one would expect from a small town like this - and he had never been affected. So why was his throat dry now? Why was his heart pounding like this?

“It's getting like this whenever I see handsome men like you, what could that be?”

“It’s getting like…what?” by now he was thankful that he was able to get some words out with his head feeling as light as it did right now.

“I dunno…wet?”

His eyes went straight back to your pussy, staring at it. You were wet. And you looked delicious. But he was a doctor. A professional. He had done so much to be where he was right now!

“Oh! That…uh. That…it- well. It stems from attraction. It's so..so sexual intercourse can happen more easily, you see. All natural. There's no need to worry at all.”

He was pulling back, this damn professional. Even though you could see that you were getting to him. “But…isn't there a remedy?”

Harvey wanted to just sink into the ground. His head still felt light, and he could feel his pants tighten - he had been mesmerized by you ever since you had introduced yourself. And of course, he had noticed your attempts to catch his attention - he wasn't stupid, after all. Yet Harvey had promised himself. Promised himself to not get too involved anymore. And now you were here. Exposed, and seemingly ready for him. So close but- he had to be strong. Be a doctor.

“Well, for one…You could do some self-care. Masturbation is quite healthy for the human body and mind.”

Like hell he'd recommend you to have sex with someone else, not even someone like him could be so professional. You called him handsome after all, for crying out loud!

“Oh! And…how does that work?”

Your patience was running thin now, but you felt like you were so close to having him where you wanted him, despite him being so oblivious. His face was motionless now as he stared at you, Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He was obviously looking for words.

“I-”

“Come on, Doctor Harvey. You're supposed to help me, aren't you?” You cooed, interrupting the clouding thoughts before they could really rain on him.

“But- that is the thing. I am your Doctor-”

You didn't answer him right away, your hand wandering to your clit first, giving it a gentle flick.

“And what if you prescribed yourself to be my remedy? I think you're the only thing that can help me,” you moaned.

The groan coming from his direction certainly wasn't professional anymore. A hand, now warmer than before, settled on your thigh. “You said it hurts here?”

Before you could look where his finger was pointing you could feel the pad of it trace through your wet folds.

“Exactly,” you breathed, spreading your legs a little further.

“I can't see much,” he murmured, his cock twitching painfully in his pants. “I'd need to clean you up first before I run some more tests...is that okay with you?”

The bobbing of your head was enough for Harvey to finally break down.

He leaned forward faster than he would have guessed from himself, his fingers spreading your folds, and by Yoba, you were wet. All the more reason to examine you closely, wasn’t it? Keeping you healthy wasn’t bad, after all. It was his job. And if that was what it took, he would oblige – for the sake of medicine, of course. Not because of his throbbing cock and the desperate need to taste you on his tongue; not because he was salivating from the thought alone.

His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth, a sliver of hesitation lingering in the air. He could see your hole contract when you thought him close, he could see the shivers making the muscles of your thighs twitch whenever his hot breath hit the wetness of your cunt, and yet…wasn’t this wrong? Had he somehow taken advantage of you?

“Harvey, fuck, please?” A small rock of your hips followed your words. Urging him closer. He could smell you now, and holy life, did you smell good. Lured him right into taking a deep whiff, as if he didn’t know he would get drunk on you immediately. Yet he did know and he willingly took another deep inhale. The impatient whine above him caused his eyes to flicker up to your face. You looked down at him, your lower lip tugged between your sets of pearly whites. No words needed to be spoken, and yet Harvey still followed your order.

His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth; eyes glued to your face. He wanted to see how you would react to that first contact, wanted to see if you felt as hot as he did right now. His pants were really straining against his aching erection, his zipper pressing against the shaft through his boxers. He was pretty sure those were wet too by now, with all the pre-cum he had been leaking. He finally pressed the muscle against your entrance, licking a flat, thick line upwards. And he took his time doing it; so much so that it had your toes curl and your thighs close in around his head. The brunet was quick to react, though, one hand holding your leg open, while the other busied itself with spreading open your pussy for his hungry tongue. His licking had become faster now, but precise enough to avoid your clit. He was, after all, only cleaning you up now, wasn’t he? Still, that didn’t mean that his hot tongue licking up whatever you gave him didn’t make you moan for him. How long had you been thinking about this? Having Harvey between your legs, in any which way he would have offered? Too long. And now he finally had his head buried between your thighs, licking and sucking you up like a starved man offered a meal after ages of going hungry. His tongue licked up and down, from one side to the other, but he still ignored your hardening clit with apparently the same professionalism he had ignored your advances before.

He gave your lips a light suck, then sunk his tongue deep inside of you. A groan left his glistening lips, eyes shut tight while he lapped at your walls eagerly, trying to get as much of you as possible into his mouth. “Harvey, oh fuck, right there,” you breathed, hand flying in his hair to hold onto the strands between your fingers tightly, giving a tug that was harder than you had intended it to be. But that only seemed to spur the male on more, his face burying deeper, tongue and lips working in unison now. And by Yoba, he had never tasted anything this good; so sweet, so…you; and you were addictive.

Your hips bucked upwards for him, if to grant him easier access or just because you couldn’t keep them down anymore, you didn’t know. You didn’t really care, either. Harvey’s moustache rubbed against you in a way that made your head spin, his lips sucking on you while he circled his tongue within you made your whole body tense. Even when pussy-drunk he seemed incredibly precise, knowing just where to brush past, when to suck and when to lick.

You weren’t able to do much anymore, just hold onto his hair and wait for the sweet, sweet release to wash over you and in turn, Harvey’s tongue.

It was close; you could feel it in the ripple down your spine, in the way you clenched around him, you could feel it in the pit of your stomach, too. You were dangerously close to the edge, and one well-placed flick would push you over. You were ready for it; the string of moans that left your lips were dirty, raw, carrying all the words you couldn’t form anymore.

You awaited the feeling of your orgasm crashing over you, not to suddenly feel empty and cold after being engulfed in the warmth of his mouth. But Harvey was standing now, his face wet and his glasses fogged up from the heat that had reached the cool surface, and yet you knew that he was staring right at you. You opened your mouth, but you didn’t trust your vocal cords just yet, so all you did was letting out a confused hum, to which the brunet in front of you smiled.

“You are all clean now- I believe you are ready for further tests.”

Fuck, you were. More than that. By now, you really felt an ache in your body, and the only remedy was there, right in front of you, fumbling with the buttons of his pants. His hands were shaking, enough so for you to lean forward, popping the button open for him. The doctor let out an awkward laugh, moustache twitching from the embarrassed rumble that went through him. “Sorry,” he whispered but quickly switched gears when you pressed a kiss to his lips. The taste of you mixed with his spit made you whimper, the appetite for him only growing within you. You wanted to help him tug down his boxers as well, but instead of fabric, you were met with the soft skin that had been hidden beneath until now. Your throat went dry; you just had to pull away and look at him. He was big, tip coated in a layer of pre-cum, his shaft girthy.

“Harvey, please,” you stammered, leaning back on the table so he could lean over you more easily.

The brunet followed you like a well-behaved lamb, leaning in again to kiss you. You could feel the tip of his dick against your entrance, slowly pushing forward. The stretch the head of his penis caused made your eyes roll back, excitement for the rest of his girth stretching you bubbling inside of you.

Harvey, ever the gentleman, took it slow. Rutting inside of you, centimetre after centimetre, eyes fixed on your face for any signs of pain and discomfort. He brushed your hair to the side to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how wet you were for him, and holy Yoba, did he ever feel anything like this before?

You had to admit, at first, the stretch did hurt a little, but with both him being so tender with you, so gentle, the pain quickly turned into a cloud of lust and despair. You wanted him, and you weren’t afraid to show him anymore. “Harvey, oh, for fuck’s sake, fuck me.”

A twitch, and then a shove that made him bottom out inside of you. A groan from him bled into the moan that tore from you, but that didn’t make Harvey pause. Not anymore.

His thrusts were shaky, unsure at first. He was just so adorable, wasn’t he? His eyes searched yours as if to ask for approval, as if to make sure he was doing this right, and it made your heart swell within your chest.

“You are so good to me, Harv,” you whispered, shamelessly letting your moans slip for him. The brunet’s eyes lit up, and he pushed his hips forward faster, more eagerly now.

Smiling to yourself, you let your head lull back. Harvey’s dick felt so good within you, filling you out with clumsy thrusts that steadied the more confidence he felt. Your back arched in as the brunet found a rhythm that seemingly fitted both your tastes; fast strokes that reached deep within you. The little grunts that left his slightly swollen hips only added fuel to the fire, only made you want him more.

Your legs hooked around his soft hips as he fucked into you with quick thrusts, body working with him to get him to go harder, more ruthless. Lucky for you, Harvey was a quick learner. Dick now fucking into you harder, red tip still pounding as deep as he could go.

The man’s face was a mix of pleasure and astonishment as if he wasn’t able to believe this was really happening to him. You just felt so damn good around him, walls clinging to his hot cock, sucking him off with each thrust. If he had a say in it, he would have never left your sweet pussy again, keeping his dick buried inside of you, thrusting into you whenever he deemed fit.

The moans and whines of his name that filled the examination room made his vision blur; his balls incredibly tight all of a sudden.

“Harveeey,” you gasped out, your hand reaching for his in an attempt to hold onto something again, fingers gently brushing along his knuckles before intertwining. The brunet above you was panting now, his hips never stilling as he fucked into you. His eyes, however, weren’t focused on your face anymore; they had fallen onto your tits that were bouncing oh so nicely for him with each of his thrusts. He just couldn’t help himself; it was too tempting – his head dipped down, teeth catching one of your pretty pink nipples, nibbling on it just to suck it into his mouth moments later.

You could feel the feeling start to grow inside of you again, your orgasm approaching you, even though you didn’t want this to stop yet. You didn’t want this to end just now, now that he was filling you up so perfectly, cock sliding against your squishy walls with such ease; you didn’t want his balls slapping against your wet cunt to stop just yet, you wanted, no, needed, more.

As if hearing your thoughts, Harvey picked up his pace just a little more, his mouth switching to the other nipple to pay it the same amount of attention. The squelching sound of the wetness between your legs was to die for, just like the feeling of his orgasm hot in his veins.

You just felt so deliciously good, better than any neat whiskey ever could have, and it made him go crazy. He felt hot, he felt like he was just about close enough to heaven to feel it, but not quite there. The bucking of his hips grew more desperate as he chased his orgasm, going hard and deep inside of you while his mouth busied itself leaving hickeys on your bouncing tits. The insecurity from before had vanished, and the groans, the begs, the whines, the praise, all coming from you was enough to keep it away.

“Harvey, I am- fuck, I am so close-“

He would have answered, had he been able to. But he had basically gone mute, aside from the whimpers and groans, as well as high-pitched moans that dared to tumble from his tongue. Instead, he just nodded at you and did his best to pick up the pace some more. It was just so hard with you sucking around him so nicely, drooling all over his dick. So hard to focus when he could feel you shake beneath him, making his body ache for the final push.

The bite to your tit he gave you, combined with his deepest thrust yet was enough for you. You squeezed his hand tightly, your toes curling and your back arching in as finally allowed the release to flow over you. You cried out his name, your sweet, pretty cunt spasming around poor Harvey, who was, admittedly, both absolutely pussy-drunk and empty-minded.

His breathing now came in forceful, laboured pushes, and if he had ever heard a patient breathe like that, he would have sent them straight to bed and run endless tests on them. But this – this was nothing but the sheer hunger for one person.

He suddenly slammed forward once more, his back arching in as he moaned out your name loudly, penis twitching as he came inside of you, cum painting your walls white. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to not lose focus, his mouth hanging open as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs were quivering with each thrust that sent shocks up your spine from the overstimulation that slowly started to nag at you.

Panting, the brunet tried to keep himself from crashing down on top of you, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. His eyes were still hazy as they took in your fucked-out expression. You looked ruined but also completely…satisfied.

Your hand was still shaky as you reached up to let it run down his flushed cheek, a smile on your lips. “That definitely helped, Harv,” you whispered, voice slightly more hoarse than it had been that morning.

Harvey cleared his throat, and after a moment or maybe two – maybe also three, he just felt so good inside of you – pulled out of you, shaky legs carrying him over to the sink where he wettened some paper towels to clean you up.

“I am glad I was able to help.”

Disappointment settled in your stomach. Was that it? Did he just go back to his professional self like the table beneath you wasn’t drenched in your wetness and his cum?

“But I need to run a few more tests. I think home visits would be best; I’d need different surfaces and times.”

Click. Two lambs had fallen for the trap

#sdv #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley farmer #stardew valley smut #sdv fanfic #fanfic #smut #sdv harvey #sdv harvey x reader #sdv harvey x farmer #stardew valley harvey #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley x farmer #harvey x farmer

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