#reader on period

[euno11a]

One of the most embarrassing moments for a woman, is when she unexpectedly gets her period. No pads or tampons to help save her. So sitting in the bathroom of the pub you and the task force were celebrating at was anything but ideal. You were at the bar ordering a drink when the slippery feeling began to grow between your legs. You knew it wasn’t arousal (even though Simon sat beside you the whole time) but it was also too early to get your period.

the way your eyes widened as you felt it drip down your leg and spread across your thighs brought nothing but embarrassment to your face, seeing a small drop of blood drip onto the floor beneath your skirt. Quickly running off to the bathroom, you locked yourself in a stall and let out small choked sobs. Many would say it’s natural, and you know it. But that doesn’t stop anyone from feeling embarrassed about what happened. You pulled out your phone and sent some quick texts to the first person in your contacts - ”Si Pie🫶🥧 ”

-“Ask a waitress for a pad” 16:09

-“please quickly” 16:10

sitting and waiting might have been worse than seeing the bloody mess on your thighs and down your legs. But when you heard the bathroom door open and then close, you expected a woman to slip you a pad that Simon gave her under the door, but instead there were Salomon hiking boots and a deep voice.

“open up, love.” The low voice brought comfort, stuffing your panties with tissue quickly and the pulling your skirt down to open the door.

the moment you saw his eyes soften at you under the balaclava, you broke out into tears once again. He gently pulled you into his arms and rubbed your sides to soothe you. “No need to feel embarrassed, a’righ? Just clean yerself up ‘nd we’ll go back out together.”

listening to him, you went back into the stall, cleaned yourself up to the best of your abilities and then walked out to see Simon leaning against a wall. He motioned for you to walk ahead, gently placing a hand on your lower back to massage away some cramps. Once back at the booth, there was a glass of water in your spot. Everyone continued to chatter, as did you, feeing yourself ease up as Simon linked his arm around you and rubbed your lower tummy.

what a good soldier he was.

[veren-cos]

Bachelors (sdv) x reader on their period

Gender neutral, but purely because of the prompt, afab reader. I'd say everything I write is gender neutral besides the very rare Trans masc reader ☆

Not proofread and I wrote this in like 25 min- I'll update this when I'm less tired.

Harvey

• A literal doctor.

• Is not weirded out like at all. He is all like, "Oh okay! Do you need anything at all?" And moved on with life

• Maybe has a little blush when you first talk about it? It's a completely normal thing at work (and in life), but it's just because it's you that he wants to make sure he handles it well.

• Would probably get you chocolate. And a heating pad. And blankets. And all the things.

• Aka would just spoil you a bit more than normal, periods suck and he knows-

• If you had any like disorder involving you Period he would be extra on top of stuff.

• Will make sure you are well stocked on and properly take pain meds!

Elliott

• Would just absolutely spoil you!

• Runs a bath, gets chocolate, threw your pajamas in the dryer to get them extra warm, heating pad.

• Might give you a massage if they are super painful? Probably would do it regardless but he would definitely offer if he knew that got bad.

• Idk why he knows so much, maybe it's because of Leah? I don't really write about the bachelotettes, but I feel like she would be super open about it so that's why Elliott knows a lot.

• But yeah he'd be super good to you! Would make you food just because. He is great at spoiling people, but not actually great at knowing what to do physically haha. (I think I mentioned in a previous fic where he just makes you soup if your in pain, he would do that here too)

Shane

• So if I just take Shane as a standalone character I don't think he'd know a lot / want to know/ care.

• But!

• Jas. I'm not sure what age she is supposed to be (literally anywhere from 7-12 imo) but I feel like Shane would have read up on Period stuff in preparation.

• So he would actually be more informed than Elliott!

• Now onto the actual stuff lol-

• He wouldn't be super pamper-y like Elliott and Harvey, but he would definitely help around the house more.

• Animals are all taken care of, crops are all watered, took care of some weeds, etc.

• He would also probably be a bit more physically affectionate purely because he knows you like it.

• Might be a bit embarrassed about it at first but after the first one he gets the gist of what to do.

Alex

• Would be relatively informed just because he is a health nut, but also doesn't know what to do because the most important woman in his life is postmenopausal-

• Probably would just give you chocolate and hugs because he knows like. Emotional and cravings.

• If they were super bad he would ask his grandma for help!

• Wouldn't be embarrassed about it! Once again. Health nut. Gets you pain meds!

Sebastian

• Okay. So. Sebastian.

• Literally lives with 2 ladies. Both very strong confident women. He wouldn't be uninformed by any means, but he probably is still awkward around the topic lmao

• Like if you were complaining he would be like "...." "am I supposed to do something about that?"

• AND HE DIDNT MEAN IT IN A RUDE WAY he was genuinely asking. But he just doesn't know and also is an awkward guy?

• Would do the least out of all the Bachelor's. Maybe just be more emotionally available because Period mood swings be rough. Makes more time to talk about things with you.

• Grabs you ibuprofen or Tylenol, whatever you have in the house.

Sam

• So Sam lives with a kind of coddling mom, does not have sisters, so like. His mom wouldn't talk to him about it. He has no 'personal' experience with it.

• Would be the most clueless-

• But he would definitely be like, "oh babe that sucks let me know what I can do"

• Gives you more cuddles, helps on the farm.

• Super enthusiastic about making you comfortable! He makes it into a way bigger deal than it is but he is genuinely curious about stuff so you think it's cute.

• After your first one when your together he is much better prepared / informed so he isn't all over the place.

• Just very cute and well meaning.

An* I hope this was at least a little cute / silly / comforting / whateveryouwantedoutofthis! I base everything off of personal experience because, like, it's all I got- but more people should be comfortable talking about this! It's completely normal and just a basic human function. So if yours is different than what others describe, that's okay! If yours is exactly the same, also okay! Idk where I'm going with this, but there is no shame in having a period, and that's on that!

This also came off way more dramatic than I meant it to be, but I live for the drama so it's okay (this applies to both the fic and the author's note-)

Masterlist

[sunflowerrosewood]

S/O Gets Period and They Take Care ~ Stray Kids (all)

Author's Note: Since my other account @cheekyredwillow got deleted. I am adding some of my favorite fanfictions to this account and revamping this one with new ones. I hope to make an actual list of fandoms I am still a fan of! NO requests for the time being.

I'm writing this one as the whole group finds out and takes care of you. I'm on mine right now and this idea hit me. Also trying out texting parts of the story 👀.

~~~~

You got up as if it was a normal day for you. You got ready for work/school and went. You were working on a project when you felt a cramp hit you. Your stomach clenched. You knew what that meant. Your period was either here or was about to be in the next couple of days.

You had some extra pads on you so as a safety precaution, you grabbed one and ran to the bathroom. No blood stain on your undergarment but as you went to the bathroom, you were bleeding. Phew you made it just in time....

Though now that you put your pad on and it officially started. Your cramps also began. You had to go back to your project slightly bent over due to them. Why did they have to hit at work/school? Why couldn't they hit at home then you could've have "worked from home" today?

A couple hours went past and your cramps were hitting you hard. Your friend Yuko came by to check on you.

"Y/n are you okay? You don't look too good?" She asked softly.

"I'm not. My period started at work." You told her.

"Why don't you go home? You have been caught up for weeks now. A day off doesn't hurt?" She told you and you nodded your head.

Yuko did have a point. You haven't taken many days off and you still had 5 more hours to go. So you listened to her and decided to go back home. Before you left, a group chat went off. Your group chat with Stray Kids.

You were added in this chat by your best friend Jeongin. He wanted you to meet the group and you clicked right in. Now the whole crew adores you and loves when you hang out with them. Though today, you feel bad. It was the weekly movie night and you'll have to cancel.

You hoped that would ease their worries. They didn't need to fret over you. You grabbed your things from work and headed home.

~~■■ Stray Kids' POV ■■~~

The group got your latest message and began to wonder what was going on? Chris being the main questioner.

"Is Y/n alright? She rarely cancels." Chris stated

"When she says she'll be okay. I worry something else is going on." Changbin said as the others nodded their heads.

"Whenever she's like this, it's either because she's sick or her period started." Jeongin stated which made some of them perk up.

"Would her period be now?" Hyunjin asked.

"I'm not sure but probably." Jeongin guessed.

"I could bring the snacks I was making to her?" Felix suggested.

"I think that's a good idea. Why don't we grab things for her?" Chris said.

Felix grabbed his baked goods he made the previous day. Chris grabbed the sweatshirt you liked to wear when you hung out with them. Changbin grabbed the large blanket. Lee Know grabbed a heating pad they had at their place. Seugmin grabbed some pain medicine they had at the dorm. Han and Hyunjin grabbed more of your favorite things around the place. Jeongin messaged the group.

~~■■ Your POV ■■~~

You got home and immediately went to the bathroom to take a shower. Something about freshening up seemed like a good thing to do now. When you finished your shower, you got into some comfy clothes you could lounge around in.

"Finally comfort. Now some medicine and food." You said and walked to the kitchen area.

Knock knock knock

"Who could be visiting?" You asked and went to your door. You looked out the peephole and saw the boys. You immediately opened the door.

"What are you doing here?" You asked very surprised.

"Surprise! We thought you'd like some comfort." Jisung exclaimed.

"We thought you weren't feeling good or perhaps on your period so we brought stuff." Minho said and held up a heating pad.

You felt yourself beginning to tear up and stepped aside for them to come in. Each one you hugged tightly. Jeongin was the last to come in and you hugged him tighter.

"Thank you." You whispered.

"Of course. We'll always be there for you." Jeongin said.

You turned in and Seugmin held out some medicine.

"We had some pain meds around the house. I hope this helps." He said softly and you smiled warmly.

"I was actually looking for some pain medication so you are right on time." You said and took some of the medicine.

"Have you ate?" Hyunjin asked.

"Not since I went to work." You told them.

"We'll get you some food. Go lay down." Felix told you.

Jisung and Changbin pulled you to your room so the others could bring things. Seugmin and Jeongin followed behind.

"I didn't realize you had a large bed?" Jisung stated and you chuckled.

"It helps to relax. But I guess it's perfect for all of you to stay too." You said.

You climbed into bed and Changbin started to set up the TV. Minho came in with the heating pad and what looked like tea. You placed the heating pad on where your cramps were hurting you. Changbin climbed beside one side of you and Jeongin on the other. Chris came in with a sweater.

"If you get cold, I brought your favorite one from our dorm." He said and placed it to the side.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin and Felix had some plates of food. The two of them brought it on a tray for all of you to munch on. You turned on your TV and started a movie all of you wanted to see.

An hour into the movie and the snacks dwindling, you started to feel sleepy. Between the medicine, the heating pad, and the comfort of the boys you could crash right there. You slid deeper into the blankets and fell asleep.

The boys were watching the movie and Hyunjin turned to check on you.

"Psst guys she fell asleep." He whispered.

"Oh the medicine may have kicked in." Seugmin said.

"Let's let her rest. She's probably not in pain as much." Chris said as the others nodded their heads.

Each one had a hand just rubbing either your arm or leg softly. Partially to soothe you and partially to know where you were. Another hour went by and each of the boys were starting to get sleepy.

Changbin was first and fell asleep near your shoulder. Jeongin was next and fell asleep near your other shoulder. Hyunjin and Jisung were next and fell asleep with a hand near the heating pad. Felix fell asleep with a hand on your leg. Lastly was Chris and Minho who also fell asleep with a hand on your legs.

All of you fell asleep and took a nap together. In the end, your period was more tolerable due to these boys helping you out and being a big comfort for you.

[humanjarvis]

tantrum

synopsis: what makes sylus snap?

tags: fluff, sylus is tired and grumpy bc he misses you, he obliterates his phone with his evol, sunshine reader probably, cartoonish luke and kieran appearance (sorry boys) word count: 842

a/n: after that magnum opus line i really wanted to see sylus throw a tantrum and i kept mulling over what would actually make him do that because i can’t see him doing anything much worse than this. i think he’d find Actual grown man tantrums lame. anyway i don’t like this and will maybe delete? nvm but i had the writing urge so i sacrificed this concept from my wips. 

When you arrived at the base after your three-week business trip, your long-awaited homecoming was…tame, to say the least. You’d been expecting a teasing “How nice of you to join us, sweetie,” or a cocky yet vulnerable “I was beginning to think you’d run away.” But once you’d stepped through the front door, Sylus had barely said a word. A soft “Welcome home” and a kiss on the forehead, and before you knew it, you were cradled in his arms as he carried you to his office.

He’d sat you both down in his leather armchair, making you face him in a straddle. His tired eyes had searched yours, and a moment later, he’d buried his face into your neck, inhaling deeply. 

“I missed you,” you’d murmured into his ear, pressing a kiss to his hair. With a quiet groan, he’d tightened his grip on your hips and nuzzled into you even deeper.

That���d been 15 minutes ago. Basking in the comfortable silence, you’d traded kisses all the while—yours on his hair, his on your neck. 

But suddenly, a low buzzing noise cuts your reunion short: his phone is ringing.

When he makes no effort to answer, still breathing heavily in your embrace, you twist in his arms and accept the call before he can protest. 

A familiar voice crackles over the line. “Boss?” Kieran asks. “Next meeting’s in 10. The one about those stolen shipments from Linkon—we’ve been waiting to hear back for months. You coming?”

Sylus doesn’t answer.

“…Boss?” Kieran repeats. “Boss, you there? You oka—”

Red and black mist shreds the phone into pieces. 

“Sylus!” you yelp, jumping in his lap. “What’d you do that for? He’ll probably be worried. And how will I text you now?”

You pout up at him, and as you study his chronically calm expression, you see something unusual: Sylus’s eye twitches. Just for a millisecond, only moving a millimeter, but you catch it.

“I’ll have a new one delivered tomorrow. As for the meeting, I’ll stay here,” he says lightly, a tight, closed-lip smile on his face.

“But Kieran said it was important,” you reply in confusion. “Why don’t you want to go? Are you feeling sick?” you frown, starting to lift off of him.

“No,” comes his too-quick reply. “It’s just…the twins can go in my stead,” he decides simply, moving to lean into you again.

But before he can move an inch, a rhythmic sequence of knocks sounds at the door.

“Come in!” you chirp happily, too excited to see the faces you’d missed the last few weeks to notice Sylus stiffening under you.

Immediately, the door swings open, revealing two masked figures. 

“Hi Luke, hi Kieran!” you beam, and they wave back at you eagerly.

“Long time no see,” Kieran begins. “Boss, did you lose signal or something? I tried calling you about the meeting, but I think it disconnected. Anyway, we’re about to head down and—”

“Cancel it,” a frustrated growl rings out.

You all freeze.

Somehow, you’d been too wrapped up in your excitement to feel Sylus's body shaking—no, quaking—beneath you.

“W-what? But they’re already here!” Luke sputters.

“Cancel. It.” Sylus grits out the words as if holding back a snarl, and the power in his voice leaves no room for argument. 

“O…kay,” the boys say in unison, and as they back away slowly, you shoot them a sympathetic look.

Red tendrils wrench the door shut behind them, and when you’re alone once more, it’s like the man under you deflates.

His head returns to the crevice of your neck with a soft but unceremonious thud, and his deep exhales and burning hot skin tell you he’s trying to calm himself down. 

Uncertain and a little amazed—you’d never seen him lose his composure—you give his cheek a gentle poke. “Sylus,” you whisper. Nothing. 

“Psst. Sylus,” you try again, and there’s some force behind your poke this time. With bated breath, you watch as your finger sinks into the space under his cheekbone, sighing in relief when the corner of his mouth twitches upwards. 

Lifting his head up to make eye contact, you smile at him softly. “Hi.”

“…Hi,” he rumbles, and as his crimson gaze softens, the remaining annoyance dissolves from his face.

“Are you upset?” you prod gently. 

A brazen scoff precedes the dry chuckles that fall from his lips. “And what makes you say that, kitten?”

A squint and a slight tilt of your head is all it takes. 

“I haven’t had you to myself in a while,” he begins cautiously. “Three weeks is…a long time. The longest we’ve been apart. And then the moment I have you in my arms, well…” he trails off, gesturing to the shards of phone on the table. “I just want to enjoy you right now. Undisturbed.”

“Oh, I see,” you coo, cupping his face in your hands. “Is this your way of saying you missed me too?” you quirk a brow.

“Yes,” he responds through squished cheeks, honest and unabashed. “Now, won’t you stay with me like this for a little longer?”

[lovegasmic]

getting a glimpse of Sukuna’s dumbfounded expression was not common, the first was when you confessed to be in love with him, the second, right now.

“are you dying or what the hell is wrong with you, woman?” he asks, standing still on the doorframe while you curl into a ball on your shared bed, period cramps.

“shut up— fuck, can you pass me an ibuprofen?” you ask with a pained expression, to which Sukuna stays still.

“... a what?”

“ugh! a pill, it’s in the bathroom cabinet” you’re two seconds away from snapping, but also know that Sukuna’s old ass does not know how medicine works. at least he’s kind enough to bring a glass of water too.

“what is—”

“cramps” you cut his questioning short with a bit more anger than you should, and of course, your boyfriend lifts a brow.

“watch your tone” you sigh at his words, eyes rolling as you lay in bed and turn on your side again.

and Sukuna is even more confused now, why are you mad? why are you ignoring him, why are you laying with your back facing him?!

he hates this, hates your attitude, but still quietly slides in bed behind you, he doesn’t understand a thing, but his hands come to cover your lower belly like he saw you doing a while ago, pressing his nose on the crook of your neck, he doesn’t speak, knowing you’re not in the mood. so instead just— uncharacteristically— waits, waits until you tell him what’s wrong, and then he can pamper or punish that bratty behavior depending on your answer.

[gamblersdoll]

true form! sukuna can sense when you’re ovulating or when that time is coming.

and quite frankly, he loved both of those times. just a waiting game for him, seeing how long you can remain with this whole “fuck me , my period is coming soon if you dont” charade and it makes him chuckle, because a period doesnt stop shit for him. hell, it was common in the heian era.

however, he guesses that he can be a little less rough with you on your period. the heavy flows, the meanest cramps, fat and tender breasts, you feel everything for the next five or eight days. and because he is a man, he allows you to cling to him and he doesn’t get mad at that..

youre more focused on the cramps in your uterus and ass to focus on his heart beating faster, or when he shifts from uncomfortable to comfortable.

“uruame.” he beckons, a figure then coming out from the shadows of the corner in the room. “fetch her a heating pad, now.” and they only nod, leaving as soon as they walked in.

“you didnt have to do that..” you groan out, being tucked away in his arms and he scoffs. “what?”

“are you ungrateful, woman?” he asked, eyes flickering to you and a scowl on his face. “i dont have to do shit for you.”

“.. i am grateful, ryo.” you scoff back, not in the mood nor having the strength to argue.

“okay then,” he continues to rub circles in your back, a subconscious feeling that he loved when it came to feeling depths in your bones. they were smaller than his, you were smaller than him.

just shut up and let him be a man to take care of you.

[bunnis-monsters]

Different monsters reactions to your period

warning: lots of period sex, pussy eating, and blood. You have been warned!

A/N: I’m on my period and wanted to write something horny and comforting…

Werecreatures/hybrids are already going insane when you ovulate, but once you start bleeding they can’t resist properly mounting and mating you. You’re their sweet mate, and they both want to breed you and help with the pain by fucking you and eating you out until you’re too tired to think.

Vampires of course are immediately drawn to your pussy, the smell of your blood making them drool. Some are pushing your panties to the side the second you start your period, knowing before you do. They become attached to your pussy, and possibly save some of your blood for later once they’ve had their fill. They especially love to save your cum that’s mixed with period blood, finding the taste exquisite.

Mermen get extremely protective during this time, afraid you’ll attract some underwater predator that thinks you’re easy prey becuase you’re bleeding. They’ll get horny, but are more focused on protecting than procreating. They will slip into you and sing to you as they fill you will cum, though!

Androids are immediately worried, fussing over you as they scan your body to check your health status. They give you medicine, keep you in bed, and fuck their fingers into you to help soothe your bloody cunt. They sink their synthetic cock into you, claiming it’s to help with your pain, but really they just want to fuck that pretty pussy of yours and hear you mewl like never before.

Nagas stay coiled around you, struggling to understand your strange body and why they feel so horny and protective over you during this time. It makes them anxious, and they’re extra clingy as you keep their cock warm. They’re strangely fascinated by the way blood oozes from your pussy while they bounce you lightly, and definitely end up tasting it. They get addicted to it, now you have a needy, pussy drunk naga on your hands. At least it makes you feel better to cum while you’re cramping…

Incubi/demons of course become sex crazed, and you don’t get much rest while they’re keeping you pinned down. Your pussy is always puffy and abused during this time, and they lick up every last drop of your blood, seeing it as a sign that you’re healthy and ready to make love and produce offspring. After your period they become the clingiest, most doting partners ever and feel kind of bad that they went insane while you were menstruating.

[gojosoups]

husband dearest

cw: smut, gojo loves mating press, f! reader, consensual sex, breeding, cum play, man handling, blood, slight dacryphilia, MDNI, all characters are 18+, not proofread

a/n: this was so half assed, sorry guys :') if I'm missing a tag, pls let me know to avoid any confusion, other than that, enjoy <3

Husband! Gojo Satoru who comes back home after a long, exhausting day with a raging boner. Bulge straining against the material of his pants, cock painfully hard from your relentless teasing messages and pics.

Slamming the door shut, he makes his way to you, only to throw your unsuspecting self onto the bed. Hastily undressing you, he pushes your wet panties to the side in a hurry as his mouth salivates.

His hands work fast on his own clothes before finding their way to your hips like a magnet. Spreading your legs open and throwing them over his shoulder, he slots himself between your plush thighs.

Fingers gripping tightly onto the fat of them and nails leaving moon-crescent shapes behind as he grinds his hard cock against your sweet, dripping wet folds.

Tapping his thick mushroom tip onto your sensitive clit, before thrusting into you and bottoming out in one go. His beautiful cerulean eyes drink in the sight of your pleasured expressions and that pretty pussy stretching open on his thick cock.  

Husband! Gojo Satoru who immediately notices the pout on your lips, and his heart clenches—all because he forgot to greet you with a kiss. But it’s okay, he’ll fix it. And then some.

Your legs bend even more as he leans down, his lips somehow managing to find yours in this awkward position. Your muscles and joints ache, but the delicious drag of his cock distracts you from the stretch of your legs.

Soft lips against yours, molding like clay—like two pieces of a puzzle fitting perfectly together—he swallows your shaky moans.

His balls press flat against your plump ass, folding you into a mean mating press. You swear you feel his cock deep in your lungs, each thrust knocking the breath out of you.

A lone hand loses its grip on your thighs, sliding down to your cheeks to swipe his thumb against them, wiping your crystalline tears as his pace only increases.

His mouth brutal, tugging on your lips with his teeth and nibbling on your delicate skin until it bleeds. Greedy tongue drinking you in sloppily, making a mess of you as he explores your familiar mouth.

Husband! Gojo Satoru who won’t stop until you're full of his cum—until you're dripping in his cum. His pace only becoming more merciless, cock curving into your sweet spot and kissing your cervix.

All while you lay helplessly on your back, legs quivering in his hold as you take and take.

Pretty cunny wrapped tightly around his cock, leaking cum as he keeps you stuffed. A ring of creamy white mixture coating the base of cock as he pulls out, your juices sprayed all over him. Poor pussy clenching on nothing, trying to keep his seed nice and warm in your walls.  

Husband! Gojo Satoru who’s addicted to the sight of you stuffed. Fingers teasing your poor clit with a feathery touch, pulling out a cute gasp from your swollen lips, he swipes away at the leaking cum.

Humming in approval, his fingers gather your mixed cum, pushing it back into your used hole even if you’re all filled up. 

Husband! Gojo Satoru who takes his cock back in his hold, shifting his position and aligning his tip with your pussy again. Plugging you full with his thick length, keeping all the cum instead of your sweet little hole, before going back for a second round… or third or fourth or fifth or—

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐒 — do not copy, translate, repost or modify my works on any platform.

[skyrigel]

Simon “Domesticated” Riley is my favourite.

Yes, he would kill for you and he would die for you but his affections and undying love isn't limited to oaths. It's boundless and endless.

He will cook for you, learn because he wasn't taught very good and he wants everything to be good for you.

He will sing for you, because you'd heard him in the shower and couldn't get past to fall asleep without his husky songs to make you fall asleep on his chest.

He will wash the dishes, side by side you. Laughing along as you dry the plates and using his hands at work to your own advantage to play mischief on him.

He will hear you, as you would continue to talk about everything because nothing was out of field, and despite you being a very seducing distraction, he's always trying his best.

He's a “my girlfriend, my wife” guy despite the other Task force guys teasing him about it, he doesn't mind holding your purse, instead he prods on it, he's always on his knees to tie your shoelaces, to help you out from those pointy heels. He doesn't mind being whipped, as Soap christened it, or smitten as Gaz chortled, because he is, as he should.

He's not patronising, despite being raised up to be one. He's gentle and kind and soft for you, and he's working on becoming a better man everyday for you.

He doesn't let his anger that's so unforgiving and terrible get the better of him, he's not a monster despite the blood on his hands as you've always told him so, he would pace around the lawn, sit in the grass, wash his face but he wouldn't let his anger be something you should be scared off, he wouldn't let it get between this holy thing called love.

He talks things out, understands your opinion, values them openly. 

He expresses everything even so it'd become difficult after being told to be stoic for so long, but he tries, always for you. 

He's always startled and flushed when you compliment him and he's trying to learn that you mean every word of it.

Masterlist

[sceletaflores]

I COULD PLAY THE DOCTOR (I CAN CURE YOUR DISEASE)

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, logan's pov, written with origins!logan in mind, nat veering dangerously closer to a/b/o territory with every passing day, rut cycles, oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, p in v, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, one (1) single use of the word daddy, scent kink, pain kink, breeding kink ofc, knotting (don’t look at me…), squirting, porn w/ plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: don’t look at me…i don’t know how many times i swore up and down i’d never write something like this but i’m a confirmed liar apparently so…here. i mean i just figured i'm in a rut artistically so therefore the only answer is writing logan in a rut physically...i can do what i want and i don't need to explain myself or my horny thoughts. also, i debated posting this in the wake of everything that's gone down over the past two days that is still escalating and will continue to escalate in the coming weeks, but i think everyone could use a little escape from how scary things may seem right now. take a break from all the terrifying news sites and read about logan wanting to breed you :) kisses!

divider by angel @saradika-graphics!

it's been another six months, and logan needs your help...

The burn starts on the walk home from work, a pulse of heat deep in Logan's gut that grows with every step.

It spreads slowly, sinking into his muscles and seeping up his spine as he rounds the last corner, your place less than a block away now.

It caught him off guard this time, an itch burying itself under his skin earlier in the day only to get worse and worse as he worked.

He usually knew the signs well enough to feel them start creeping in, and he was dead sure it wasn't for another few weeks.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Logan’s jaw clenches as he picks up his pace, every nerve ending in his body straining to break into a full blown sprint at the thought of you, all alone and waiting for him.

His fingers curl into tight fists, nails pressing into his palms to ground himself, though it’s hardly enough. The faint scent of you drifts up from his shirt, not even a long day at the lumberyard enough to drown it out.

By the time he reaches your door, his heartbeat is a heavy thud in his ears, syncing with the building ache of desire wracking through his body like the earth rattling boom of a raging thunder storm.

He fumbles through getting his key into the lock, hands unsteady as he tugs the door open with a little more force than necessary and finally steps inside.

The second he closes the door behind him, the heat surges, thrumming through his veins and flooding his chest. Your scent fills the air completely, stronger now, wrapping around him so thick and sweet.

"Darlin'?" His voice comes out rougher than he intends, but he's beyond caring.

Your voice floats from the other room, casual, warm enough to send a jolt through him. Logan drops his axe from his shoulder, leaning it against the door as he starts down the familiar path to your bedroom.

You're spread out on his side of the bed—oblivious, curled up with a book, wrapped in one of the flannels he must have left the last time he stayed over.

Just the sight of you does something to him, like a match dragged against a strike pad, damned on setting everything ablaze.

You glance up, and the soft smile on your lips falters as you catch sight of him.

Logan knows what he must look like, his eyes all dark and predatory, chest heaving as he rakes his hungry gaze over you like a wolf watches a lamb grazing too close to its den.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stalks toward you with a purpose that’s as undeniable as the heat pouring off him in waves.

The book slips from your fingers, forgotten, as you lean back, the small sound of your breath hitching under the weight of his gaze is music to his ears.

Logan pauses at the edge of the bed, towering over you, letting himself drink in the way you look. So soft and serene, like some kind of invitation that begs him closer. His flannel draped loosely over your shoulders–shrouding you in his scent. 

The urge to pounce on you fights against his normal instinct to savor every second, to draw it out until the heat pooling in his gut becomes downright unbearable.

“Been thinkin’ about you all damn day,” he mutters, voice thick and dark as molasses, rough from restraint he’s quickly losing. His knuckles brush against your thigh, then tighten, holding you in place as he leans down, his breath hot against your neck. “Thinkin’ about what I was gonna when I finally got my hands on you.”

Your skin blooms with warmth beneath his touch, and he grins against your neck, the edge of his teeth grazing you just enough to make you squirm. He growls low in his throat, that itch he’s been fighting nearly all day clawing its way up to the surface with a vengeance.

The primal urge inside of him screaming to claim claim claim take take take mate mate mate breed breed breed.

You tilt your head to the side with a soft sigh, freeing up more space for him to nose along your skin. “Is it time?”

Logan's breath catches as your question hangs in the air, thick with anticipation. The soft simplicity of it ignites the wildfire burning in his gut, every ounce of restraint slipping away like sand through his fingers.

“Yeah, baby,” he growls, slipping his fingers under the worn cotton of your shorts, feeling the bare skin beneath. “It’s time.”

You shift, hands going to the buttons of his flannel like you’re going to take it off. Logan stops you, taking your wrists in his free hand.

“Don’t,” he breathes, shaking his head hard enough that his hair flows with it. “Leave it on.”

The thought of you covered in his scent, of his scent mixing with yours to claim you on a level only he can discern sends his mind buzzing.

You look up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and something in him cracks wide open. The tenderness of your gaze pulls at him, like a tether pulling him back from the edge, but that heat still smolders in his blood, fierce and unyielding.

Logan runs his thumb along the racing pulse of your wrist before he drops them. His hands venture lower, fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, tracing a deliberate path that makes your body tremble under his touch.

You let out a shuddering breath, the scent of your arousal swirling through the air is enough to make him crave more.

In one rough tug, Logan yanks you towards the edge of the bed as he falls to his knees. Your hips held tight in his hands as he lurches forward, burying his nose in the soft junction where your leg and inner thigh meet.

He inhales deep, greedy lungfuls of your scent. A guttural growl rumbles through his chest, his eyes screwing shut at the sheer amount of too much that courses through him. He feels dizzy with it, high on the pheromones pumping from you in waves.

You’re soaked already, the wet fabric of your shorts melded to the shape of your cunt. He can’t help but run his nose along the slick seam of you, reveling in the way your legs twitch on either side of his head, in the short gasp you let out.

“Logan.” Your voice is nothing but a mewl, pleading and desperate.

“Missed you,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable. The edge of need in him makes his hands shake, sliding up your thighs, urging them even further apart as he settles between them.

Logan’s fingers dig into your skin, he lets his thumbs brush up, hooking them into the waistband of your shorts to tug them down your legs in one sharp yank. He groans at the sight of you completely bare, no underwear.

“Fuck, look at you,” he grates, his thumb coming down to slip through your dripping cunt. Your hole flutters desperately around him, needy little clenches like it’s trying to suck him in. “She’s all ready for me, huh? Been waiting for me to come home and give her some attention?”

“Please,” you whimper, your voice thick with longing, the sound going straight to his head, clouding his thoughts. 

Logan’s pulse races as he watches your body arch instinctively toward his touch, the desperate need in your eyes igniting the raw urges coursing through him.

He can’t deny you; he never could. You’re a feast laid out before him, and he’s starving.

Logan leans closer, letting his tongue flick out to taste you like he’s wanted to since he left for work this morning. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment. He licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, savoring the way your body responds, the way your legs tremble and your hips twitch against his mouth, seeking more. “Tastes like fuckin’ heaven, sweetheart.”

The taste of you is intoxicating—sweet and tangy, flooding his senses with every drag and swirl of his tongue.

Logan can’t help but moan against you, the sound vibrating through your body as he dives deeper, his nose nudging against your slick entrance as he shakes his head back and forth like an animal—rubbing the plush skin of your inner thighs red and raw with each rough drag of his coarse beard.

Every flick of his tongue sends a shockwave through you, and he revels in the sounds you make—each whimper, each moan, a siren’s call urging him deeper. He laves his tongue around your clit, sucking it gently, pulling at it with his lips as you writhe beneath him, begging for more. 

He keeps your thighs spread wide, two strong hands pinning them to the mattress so he can devour you just the way you deserve, the sharp dig of your heels into his shoulders only spurs him on.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging him closer, and he groans into you, letting his tongue delve deeper, seeking out every bit of sweetness he can coax from you. 

It’s pure sin, each sound you make, each shiver that runs through you as he takes his time, drinking you down like a man starved. 

The ache in him intensifies, his own need growing, pulsing. He’s hard, has been hard since he walked through the front door.

His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, need pulsing in time with each pump of his blood through his shaft, circling around the base, threatening to expand even without the tight grip of your pussy surrounding him. His hips jerk up on their own volition, desperate for any friction.

“Just like that, Logan,” you gasp, voice breathy and trembling with pleasure. 

The way you say his name—raw, desperate—makes his blood run hotter. He grips your thighs tighter, anchoring you to the bed as he drinks you in, wanting to lose himself in you completely.

Logan pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, looking up at you with lust-drunk eyes, drinking in the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your heavy-lidded gaze, the way your chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath.

The pulse of his cock intensifies, urging him to speed things along. The base desire of his own instincts is getting harder and harder to ignore under your adoring stare.

He feeds his fingers into your clenching hole with no warning, a satisfied smirk tugging his lips up at your sharp gasp. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, the entire lower half of his face still shining with your essence.

Your cunt swallows him, two thick fingers sinking into the velvety heat like it’s nothing.

Logan groans as he feels you clench around him, your walls fluttering and drawing him in deeper. “That’s it, baby,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with need. “So fuckin’ ready for me, so ready for daddy’s fingers in your pussy.”

Your mouth drops open in another devastatingly desperate noise, your hands twist his hair roughly, soft breasts rising and falling each time you gasp for air. The dim light of the sunset filters in through the blinds, highlighting the curves of your body, slick and shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

Every clench of your walls around his fingers shoots a thrill straight to his cock, making him ache with the urge to bury himself inside you. The overwhelming need to take you completely, to mark you and fill you, pulses through his veins until he feels like he might explode.

But he’s not done tasting you yet. Not until you’re practically dripping onto the sheets.

He lowers his mouth back to your core, sucking your clit into his mouth as his fingers pump faster. The sudden intensity makes your thighs shake around his head, and he grins against you. He wants to see you fall apart—wants to feel it.

“Logan—please, I…” You can barely get the words out, voice breaking as your whole body strains against him, desperate and needy.

The wet slap of his palm against your spit soaked cunt is loud in the quiet of your bedroom, blending with the loud keens that fall from your parted lips. He crooks his fingers, rubbing at that soft, spongy spot inside of you.

“Come on,” he mutters, slick lips brushing against your clit as he speaks. “Give it to me, baby. Show me you're ready for my cock."

He drags the sharp edge of his canine against your pulsing clit with barely any pressure, and you're coming.

Your whole body tenses, back bowing off the mattress as you let out a broken cry of his name. The bite of your nails digging into his scalp feels harsh enough to draw blood, a feeble attempt at grounding yourself against the onslaught of pleasure. 

Your trembling thighs tighten around his shoulders, gripping him like a vice as your shaking cunt gushes around his fingers. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes slipping shut as you drench his wrist and chin in your juices.

Even then, he doesn’t let up, fingers pumping relentlessly as he draws out every pulse, every aftershock of your climax, every tiny spray of your release splashing against his wrist. 

He’s lost in the feel of you—slick and trembling under his hands, the scent of your release filling his lungs, thick and intoxicating.

You slump back against the bed, body limp and spent. His own need is a driving, aching force now, clawing at his insides, demanding more.

He slips his fingers free from your dripping heat, dragging them through the wetness coating his chin as he licks them clean with a growl, savoring every taste.

“Good girl,” he purrs, voice thick with pride and satisfaction as he pulls back, leaving your thighs twitching in the wake of his touch. But he still isn’t finished. Not even close.

You barely have time to catch your breath before Logan crawls up the bed, his eyes locked on you, pupils blown with need. He looms over you, hands planting on either side of your head. His cock grinds against you through the rough denim, and you can feel just how thick and hard he is, throbbing through the fabric, demanding to be freed.

With a low groan, he shifts his hips, dragging his bulge along your soaked cunt, sending another jolt of pleasure racing through you. His hands are all over you, gripping your waist, hot and possessive.

“Feel that?” he asks, pressing his lips the wild flutter of your pulse, the need to sink his teeth in the soft skin of your neck raises the hair on the back of his neck. “That’s what you do to me baby. Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock, just aching to be inside you.”

Your arms circle his shoulders, clawing at the fabric off his shirt. “Need you inside me, Logan. Please, want it so bad.”

The pure need lacing your words, your scent calling out to him, the way he can feel the front of his jeans getting soaked through with the slick pouring from your cunt all pull him deeper into the recesses of his hind-brain. 

The mounting desperation to stuff you full of his cock finally reaches a fever pitch.

With a deep growl, Logan rears back as far as he can bear, just enough to tear his shirt over his head before he fumbles with the heavy buckle of his belt to free his aching cock.

He shoves his jeans down, boxers quickly following until there’s nothing separating him from the cool air of your bedroom. His cock springs free, hot and flushed an angry red color, drooling from the tip enough that it drips down to stain the pretty floral sheets of your bed.

Your eyes zero in on him, mouth dropping open at the sight. His cock so heavy it doesn’t curve upward to slap against his stomach, instead it hangs down to sway between his thighs as he moves closer. 

Your legs spread as he nears, slick covered thighs parting to make room for him to slot between them. So obedient, so good, so well trained.

Logan takes himself in his hand, nearly wincing at the blazing temperature of his skin. He secures his hand around the base, squeezing where his knot threatens to pop before he’s even got in you.

He slips the angry head through the folds of your cunt, slapping it against your clit with a wet ‘thwack’ sound. He can feel the way it twitches and shakes, just as desperate as him.

“Look at that,” he mutters darkly, eyes glued to where he’s laid his cock flat against your stomach, leaking pre-come all over your soft skin. “How’s it gonna fit, baby?” He shifts his hips, sawing his length back and forth to see just how deep in you he’ll be.

Your glassy eyes drop, a broken moan passing through your slack lips when you take in the sight. Your hips rise off the bed, grinding your cunt along the seam of his heavy balls, along the prominent vein trailing up the underside.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Logan grits out, eyes hooded and dark as he watches you grind against him. “You’re gonna take it all. Gonna make you feel every last fuckin’ bit of me.”

He groans, gritting his teeth as he presses in further, each inch a battle against the tight, molten heat that grips him like a vice. Your body shudders as he fills you, your slick warmth pulling him deeper and deeper, and he sinks down until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with yours. 

The pressure is mind-numbing, your walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that make his vision blur. He stills for just a second, savoring the way your body stretches around him, hugging him in a way that feels like it was made for him alone.

Logan watches your face as you adjust to the stretch, your brows pinched together, each breath coming fast and shallow, your eyes glazed with pleasure.

Then, your hands come to his shoulders, nails digging little crescent moons into his skin as you nod your head, ready.

It’s all the confirmation he needs. His hips pull back before he slams in again, the force of it jolting your whole body. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, teeth bared as he muffles a snarl against your skin.

Logan thrusts again, and again, and again, hips setting a merciless pace as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, each little shudder.

His mouth waters with the need to taste, to sink his teeth into your supple skin hard enough to pierce clean through, hard enough to scar.

Sweat drips down the length of his spine, across his brow. It mats down the hair scattered over his chest, his dog tags slick with it when they bounce off his skin with each thrust. The grip of his hands tightens on your hips, it’s taking everything in him to hold back and yet he knows you’ll still bruise tomorrow. 

Pretty hues of dark purples and yellows in the shape of his fingers, ones he’ll catch you admiring in the bathroom mirror, pressing your own fingertips into them to feel the dull ache—to remember this moment.

“Made for this, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice dark and possessive. “Made to take me, to be mine.”

The words barely leave his mouth before he’s bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries as he drives into you, pushing you both closer to that sweet edge.

“Fuck, Logan,” you gasp, breaking the kiss as your body trembles under him. “Can–ah!–can feel you in my stomach…”

Your hand drops from his shoulder, slipping between your bodies to rest over the sweaty expanse of your belly. Logan’s eyes follow your path, a feral growl bursting from his chest before he can stop it.

He’s transfixed by it, sure that if he pressed his hand to the soft skin of your lower stomach right over your own, that he’d feel it. Feel the way his cock punches up against your insides, so deep it's like he’s rearranging your guts to make room.

“Fuck.” His voice is nothing but a gravelly rumble, hoarse and dark as midnight. His hips speed up impossibly faster, chasing the feeling of your clenching walls choking the length of his cock so tight he thinks it might snap off at the base.

The flimsy headboard of your bed slams against the wall, creaky mattress springs screaming under his ministrations.

You feel like salvation, like the first rays of light after too many years spent in the dark.

He feels it with each kiss of his cock against your cervix, in the way your lips fit in the junction of his neck, in the red welts your nails leave on the skin of his back. He feels alive, truly alive, for the first time in decades.

“Say my name,” he grates, his hand cupping the back of your neck, coaxing you to look up at him, lips close enough to taste the heat radiating from his skin. “Tell me who you belong to.”

"Logan," you gasp, your voice breathy, edged with desperation as he pushes you closer to the brink. "Yours. Only yours."

A broken, shaky noise falls from his lips as he buries his face in your neck. He mouths at your skin desperately, presses his nose to where your scent is the strongest. 

Flashes of his release spraying your insides play behind his closed eyes, thoughts of drenching you so thoroughly that it has to take only forcing his hips to slam against the rippling muscle of your ass like you have your own magnetic pull. He feels it building, the slow swell of his knot presses against your folds, ready to burst.

“Come on, honey,” he begs, thumb coming down to rub slow circles over your slick clit. “Come with me, soak my cock. Show me how much you love it, how much you love me.”

Pathetic little uh uh uh’s fall from you with every thrust, broken up only by the breathy whines of his name as he pounds into you hard enough to push your body higher up the mattress. Finally, with a loud roar, he stuffs his growing knot inside of your cunt. 

Logan’s teeth sink into your neck before he can even think twice about it, the thick spray of his come filling you as his hands pull your hips down even further over his cock. He needs to be as deep in you as possible, to press forward until he can’t anymore, until his aching balls are flush with your gushing cunt.

He watches with rapt attention as you come with a loud wail, just from the feeling of his knot slotting into place. The clamp of your thighs over his hips is nearly as tight as the way your cunt seizes around him like it’s scared he’ll leave.

He groans at the over stimulation of your cunt milking his cock. Your slick leaks around the base of him, your shaking hole plugged so full it can only slip along the creamy ring to splash weakly against his thighs and hips.

Logan licks along the spot where his teeth pierced your skin, planting one last kiss before he’s taking you in his arms and rolling onto his back atop the mattress. The plush comforter sticks to his skin, your own sweaty body slipping against his as he tries his best to not jostle you too much while keeping you stuffed full of his cock.

He holds you to his chest until your breathing evens out, until your body stops trembling on top of his, until you’re nosing along the column of his neck.

“Logan?” Your voice is tiny, hoarse and scratchy. He feels your hand drawing absent minded shapes along the skin of his stomach. A circle, a star, a figure eight, a heart.

“Yeah baby?” he says, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, eyes slipping shut at the content feeling that spreads through him.

“Love you,” you murmur, voice soft but sure, the words slipping out without hesitation.

It’s the first time you’ve said it today, and hearing those three words from you sends warmth flooding through him.

Logan shifts slightly, pulling you even closer, his hand moving to the back of your head, cradling you with a kind of tenderness he used to think he’d never be capable of. “I love you too, darlin’. More than you know.”

Your body relaxes against him, the lingering effects of your shared intimacy still buzzing through your limbs, but now there’s a sense of peace, of safety, and a deeper connection.

He can feel the way your fingers curl lightly against his skin, the quiet smile that must be tugging at your lips as you press a kiss to the side of his neck.

And in that moment, with everything settled around him, Logan knows that this, right here, is everything.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[veren-cos]

HELLOOOOOO this is my first time requesting so I’m kinda nervous lol , but could you please do a fic where seb does period comfort? Like a whole fic and not headcannons pleaseee!

Sebastian (Sdv) x reader period comfort

Ngl I took the prompt and ran with it. I love writing period fics. I think there should be more.

"Ughhhhhhhh" You rolled over on your bed. Cramps were cramping like crazy. Just a heavy steady ache all over your lower back and hips. This was the worst.

You didn't feel like getting up. Getting up meant being productive. Getting up meant watering crops, and feeding animals, and everything a responsible farmer had to do. But getting up meant seeing Sebastian, which is the only thing that was motivating you.

But despite that. You still laid in bed. No matter how much you wanted to see your boyfriend, you were just in too much pain to do anything. And if you could see your boyfriend, you could take care of the farm. Which meant no seeing your boyfriend today.

*knock knock knock*

Unless your boyfriend came to see you? You groaned in the direction of the door, "come in, it's always open."

You heard light footsteps coming in your direction. "Babe?" You hissed as Sebastian turned on the lights. "You're not up yet?"

"Mmmmmm no.." You had forgot that the two of you were supposed to hang out today. He was coming over with pizza from the bar, and you were going to play Solarian Chronicles.

He set down the game and pizza and sat by you on the bed. "Is everything okay?" He pushed your hair out of your face as you adjusted under the blankets.

"Everything hurts. Cramps are kicking my ass." He nodded. Sebastian was pretty chill about all this stuff. And since you were planning on staying home anyways, it wouldn't make much of a difference.

He got up and shuffled around your closet. After a while, Sebastian came back with a heating pad for you. He plugged it in and tossed it to you. Then he grabbed the table nearby and brought it next to your bed. You honestly had no idea what he was doing.

Once he was finished with what seemed to be rearranging your whole room, he left again. This time, he returned with the game, a bottle of ibuprofen, and some water.

"You still able to play if you can stay in bed?" He sat next to you again, starting to set up your quest. He had brought everything you could need to your room, such a sweetie.

"Of course!" You attempted to sit up but it just made everything hurt worse.

He shot you a concerned look, "need help?" He reached behind you to hold you up. After a bit of shuffling you were upright.

"Mmmnn life hurts."

He laughed a bit, "I'd bet." He handed you the water and meds, "take these. And I know you have sprinklers, but I'm going to go finish watering your crops. And let out the animals, they just eat the grass then, right?"

You blushed a bit, how did you land a guy this nice? "Yeah, thank you. You really don't have to, I can do it before I sleep."

"No you can't. You hadn't even gotten out of the bed. And from the looks of you, you weren't planning on it. You just sit there a bit while I finish things up for you. If you're feeling helpful, finish setting up the game?" He softly smiled at you.

The rest of your day went really well. The two of you defeated a wizard and saved a town! You got all the loot, and successfully completed your quest. Sebastian put the pizza into your microwave, and the two of you ate in bed.

You barely got up, but in all fairness, you didn't really want to. Sebastian certainly wasn't overbearing, but he was shockingly attentive. He had brought the TV into your room, so he put on a shitty movie. Honestly his company was what made you feel better more than anything else.

His presence always made you calmer. Once the two of you got into the swing of your relationship, he was shockingly chill. After all of his initial nerves were taken care of anyways. Sometimes he was still a tad cautious though. He barely touched you all day!

You decided that that needed to be rectified right now. Of course, you appreciated that he respected your space. In general, but especially on your period. But more often than not you just wanted cuddles and you'd be damned if you didn't get them!

The two of you were sitting next to each other, so it wasn't necessarily difficult. The movie was crap anyways, so you just rolled to your side into his chest. He immediately went warm.

"Too cold?" He looked down at you. He had a small smile on his face.

"No," you adjusted yourself further into his lap. "Just wanted attention."

"Oh yeah?" He laid down instead of sitting so you could get comfortable. "I can do that." He wrapped you in his arms and gave you a kiss. He intertwined your legs, and planted a peck on your cheek. You giggled as you landed one on his nose.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and gave him a final kiss. He landed a few more pecks before laying his chin on the top of your head as you made some final adjustments. Sebastian truly made even the roughest starting day wonderful. You sighed, gave him a final hug, and listened to the horrible movie as sleep fell over the two of you.

An* hello!!! thank you for the request!! And don't be nervousss, more than likely, if an author takes requests, they absolutely love them! I know I do!! I hope you like it, I know it got kinda off topic and turned into a general fluff fic near the end, but it's still cute imo! I might edit some parts eventually because I'm so tired and this wasn't proofread- but yeah, hope you enjoyed!

Masterlist

[digitald0rk]

TEAR YOU APART

pairing : sinister! mark grayson x afab! florist reader.

synopsis : in which mark discovers your dirty little secret and decides to help you recreate it in real time.

(18+) warnings : kidnapping. nasty petty perv mark. allusions to cannibalism. mention of kinda gory violence. hair pulling. biting. mean name calling duh. giving each other head. p in v unprotected sex. creampies. marathon sex as in multiple orgasms. squirting. overstimulation . . . ++ just really nasty smut lol [ all consentual though! you two are freaks like in capital FREAKS ]

w.c : 5.5k.

notes : erm. yeah idk what possessed me to write this but lemme know what you think ! it's my first time writing smut this long and detailed [ my search history is crazy rn lol ]. let's just say this takes place in sinister mark's universe before he starts acting like a murder machine and all, so yeah :] again interactions are always appreciated, also do let me know if you think there's any warning i should add!

taglist : @vm4879bb-blog [ for the others, i wasn't sure if you guys would be okay being tagged in a fic like this so i didn't, let me know if you wanna be added tho :p ]

now on ao3 too!

he's going to kill something, or someone.

“oh yeah this? my boyfriend got it for me!”

he hears you talk about him, your lover, everyday and it annoys him deeply, the subtle furrow of his eyebrows barely noticeable but definitely there — sometimes a twitch of his eye, clear cracks in his carefully constructed facade give away his irritation if you choose to look closely.

“that reminds me, this one time he-”

he loves that pretty voice of yours — dare he say, he's grown fond of it, but he wants to shut you up forever whenever your boyfriend's name leaves your lips.

mark wants his name to be on your tongue — to be said with the same love and fondness that accompanies the name of your lover.

he tried, he really did, to give you signs — a squeeze of your hand there, a stare that can practically undress you on its own. but it seems you're oblivious to it all, or you're playing hard to get, either way his patience is running thin.

he'll get what he wants. just you wait.

every time he visits your little shop, it smells like flowers mixed with your perfume, that sweet and sugary scent with just a hint of citrus — he had asked you about the perfume you wore during his third visit, bought it the same day so he could finally get off because his imagination wasn't enough at this point, that kept him somewhat satisfied for a bit, but it wasn't nearly enough.

so when he stopped by next time, not even buying flowers to play along with whatever this is, he asked you, “where do you buy your clothes?”

you blink a couple times, clearly taken aback back by the sudden question but nonetheless, answer him — although you're not quite sure what to make of his disheveled hair and blown out pupils.

here he is, acting like a feral dog in heat, buying anything and everything that he can at the shops you frequent that resembles your clothes. and when he's back at home, he's spraying them with the perfume you always wear, rutting like a madman into the mattress as he mouths at a pink shirt — the same one you own and the one you were wearing when he first saw you, his drool leaking and staining the shirt as he holds it close to his mouth and closing his eyes, your scent surrounding him as he suckles on the chest area of the shirt, imagining it's your chest instead which has him groaning and cumming in his pants. that keeps him going for another week or so.

next thing he knows, he's acting on pure instinct and his desires — snapping photos of your panties underneath your little skirts like a fucking pervert, looking them up online so he could order them and make a mess of them. and he does, he stains each and everyone of those panties with his hot, thick cum and sometimes his spit when he imagines eating your pretty pussy out. his desires however continue to only grow.

he visits your little shop, like he always does, mentally preparing himself to not grab your throat and shove you down to make you shut up if he hears about your stupid boyfriend again.

he's being nice, can't you see? you should be thankful.

mark sees a new ring on your finger, the small silver zircon on it shining underneath the sunlight, he wonders if it's another gift from your boyfriend.

the thought leaves a bitter taste behind, regardless, he maintains his usual aloof facade, waiting for you to finish wrapping up his bouquet that he's going to end up tossing away the next day — just like the other flowers he's bought from you, they don't compare to you or your beauty, he wants you, a flower that won't rot away once he's done playing with it.

surprisingly, you don't mention the name of a certain man who he wants dead and buried six feet deep but he doesn't comment on it, in fact, a small barely imperceptible smile tugs at his lips.

he's just about to leave your little flower heaven when he hears something that makes his heart, uncharacteristically skip a beat.

“yeah i heard, i’m so sorry,” a voice, which he recognizes as your friend speaks softly, sympathetically.

“yeah, i don't know what i was thinking,” you start, “the signs were there, i just never thought he'd cheat like that,” you blink away the forming tears, “i trusted him.”

he stops dead in his tracks. that bastard cheated on you? he'll make him pay for being the reason you cry, although your tears do make his cock twitch in his pants. he'll lick them off of your face if you let him, god he really wants to.

should he simply keep your boyfriend to torture? he's sure he could lure you in with it, after all you are way too sweet for your own good.

he'll slowly tear each of his limbs apart, making sure the man hears his bones cracking and skin ripping, he'll make that fucker bleed to death. hell, he'd even record those painful, agonizing sounds that your ex would cry out, he's sure you'd cry more if he lets you hear them, maybe he just wants to see you cry — though he's sure you'll do that when you choke on his cock.

he snaps out of his little fantasy when the bell rings, indicating the opening of the door — another customer in, he sighs. he's losing it, he's not sure how much he can withstand not having you with him. but he's trying, for you.

for the sweetest girl who he can't wait to devour.

with his restraint hanging on by a thread, he steps out of your shop, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists by his sides. he needs to have you.

and that restraint finally snaps the next day when he discovers that his favorite florist is a fucking freak.

as you're tending to customers — clearly overwhelmed by their number as valentine’s day is approaching and flowers are definitely a safe option for your partner, his eyes stay locked on your laptop's screen that you had put on one of the small tables, lid only half closed, his eyes frantically scan over some of the words as he fully opens the screen, trying to stay out of your vision.

he quickly decides to go somewhere where there aren't so many people so he could take a look inside his sweet girl's sick mind. and with that he skillfully slips outside — he feels awfully excited, sneaking into the small bathroom of some shop.

and with each click of the cursor and another tab opening, he learns your most depraved, disgusting fantasies — the kind of porn you're into, your kinks and fetishes, the smut you read, all of it.

he even stumbles upon a small blog you run, oh now we're talking. each lewd image or post you've reblogged, followed by some words of “wish that was me rn”, has him hard. and these date back before your break up, meaning your boyfriend was definitely not keeping you satisfied and that has him grinning like a maniac.

oh he'll give you what you want.

he shamelessly palms himself when he finds your dairy entry with his name, rambling about how you feel guilty fantasizing about him ruining you. he would've cum right then and there if it weren't for the knocking on the door, “hey man, you mind hurrying it up?”

oh right he's still in a bathroom and not in you, like he should be.

he manages to sneak your laptop back in, thanking the absurd amount of customers mentally which helped him go in and out without raising suspicion.

he can't take it anymore, it's only been a couple hours since he's discovered your filthy secret and also saw you tearing up earlier because of that asshole who broke your heart.

he knows he's a hypocrite — he doesn't care for your dumb feelings and your big heart, okay well maybe that's a lie.

it is a lie.

and there are definitely these feelings that he refuses to acknowledge but still, the only reason why you should be crying is because of him fucking your brains out.

and so he waits, like a predator waiting to pounce — he holds his breath, watching as the sun sets and you lock up your shop, ready to go home and get some sleep but your plans are interrupted as a hand sneaks up behind you with some sort of cloth, muffling your panicked noises and before you know it you're knocked out.

it takes you hours to gain your consciousness back, eyes all heavy and mind disoriented you blink, once. then twice, your eyes widen and your mouth suddenly feels too dry. you're all tied up to a cold hard metal chair, you're only in your bra and panties, the rope is too tight, it's constricting and will definitely leave behind angry marks on your skin.

standing before you is one of your regular customers, mark. you stare at him, dumbfounded — eyes darting around to look for an escape okay to see a single door, desk and some chairs, panic settles in your bones, the coldness of the room does nothing to soothe your nerves.

you mindlessly try to shift around, a desperate attempt that leaves you wincing in pain — the friction of the thick black rope burning against your skin.

you try to speak, but nothing comes out, only a small choked sob — looking at him with those wide eyes which are brimming with tears that are oh so close to spilling and staining your cheeks, you look utterly helpless. the sight alone makes him excited.

he takes a deep breath, he wants to take his time with you, savor you. but goddamnit, if you keep looking at him like that he's sure he'll end up doing the opposite of that.

“open your mouth,” he commands, leaving no room for argument and you hate the way it sends a shiver down your spine and a throb to your core. 

you hesitantly open your mouth, with his back turned to you — doing god knows what, you try screaming for help, it is a weak attempt that makes him chuckle, “no one's going to hear you sweetheart,” he coos mockingly, “i suggest you play along if you wish to live.”

he's not joking, his voice makes it clear. 

so you reluctantly keep your mouth opened, hot tears falling down — lucky for you, he's being nice, at least for now because he brings a glass of water, holding your jaw and pouring the water in your mouth, some of it spills, the coldness of it on your bare skin making you shiver — but you swallow all he gives hastily, hoping it really is just water.

you sputter a bit of the water out onto him in surprise when he licks a stream of you tears away, his tongue hot against your skin and his spit leaving a shiny trail on your cheek. scared, that he'll hurt you because of what you've just done, you close your eyes shut as if the mere action would actually rewind back time and do something for you.

he laughs, loudly.

god, you're adorable. he could just eat you up.

“are you scared of me?” he asks, knowing damn well it's a pointless question but the genuine fear in your eyes has him reeling with joy and a desire only you, his sweetheart, can fulfill.

he puts the now empty glass of water back on a small table, “you know, you look real pretty like this,” he starts, dragging a chair to sit across you, “but i bet you'd look real pretty without anything on.”

you don't answer, you don't know how to. your eyes are still looking around the big room for any exits, any openings — he smiles at your desperation, it's cute really.

“or maybe you'd look even prettier with some blood on you hm?” his tone although amused is firm enough to leave you unsure if he's being serious or not, he drags a finger across your belly, “what if i make a cut right here?”

you immediately shake your head, trying to speak but he shuts you up by pinching one of your hard nipples through your bra, your protests die down into a small whimper — the sound has him grinning from ear to ear.

his eyes glint with something sinister that has you both scared and turned on. “i know you want this slut,” he holds your jaw harshly.

shame settles in your bones as you realize he's right.

“don't play coy sweet girl i saw all of it,” when you give him a confused look, he continues, “that little blog of yours, that disgusting shit you're into.”

oh fuck.

he sees the look of absolute horror mixed with embarrassment on your face and he tuts like he's disappointed, “dirty girl,” like he isn't the one who literally kidnapped you here.

“i don't know what you're talking about,” you both know you're lying, but sure he'll play along if that's what you want — he's feeling good today.

he reaches for your bag and rips it open — a clear display of who's still in charge here and how he definitely could kill you in an instant.

mark opens your laptop and asks you the password. you don't tell him at first as if that would change anything.

“i asked you a simple question,” he walks closer to you, grips your shoulder hard enough to make you regret your words, “or do i need to rip something else for you to answer me hm?” his grip tightens and you know he's not playing around, your voice shakes as you give him the four number pin, breathing heavily when he lets go of his hard bruising grip on your shoulder.

“good girl,” fuck him, he's doing this on purpose now! and the smug look on his face only confirms your suspicions.

he shows you the deepest, filthiest fantasies of yours that you keep tucked in your laptop, away from the world.

“what's wrong? don't pretend you're not dripping wet right now.”

again, he's not wrong.

“why are you doing this?” you ask him, still struggling a bit against the ropes that bind you.

“i wanna give you what you want,” he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. he also wants to make you forget about your ex boyfriend, but he's not admitting that, jealousy is a weakness. and one that he suffers from immensely.

“you what-”

“drop the act,” he huffs, irritation visible in the way his eyebrows furrow. “just admit it already. you're a sick disgusting pervert who goes prancing around like she's not thinking of having her holes filled,” he tugs at your hair to keep your head up, his eyes dark with lust boring right into yours.

“are you crazy? you fucking kidnapped-”

he cuts you off again, “so you don't want this?”

silence.

“i’ll untie you right now and let you leave, just tell me you want to leave.”

silence, again.

you're not fooling anybody.

“yeah that's what i thought,” he let's go of your hair, “the safe word is-” he mutters your ex’s name and before you can even comment on the sheer absurdity of it all, he's ripping your panties away from your throbbing pussy, groaning at the sight of your glistening wet folds, all needy just for him.

he quickly pockets the ripped panties. pervert.

“look at this needy cunt, all for me hm?” he muses aloud, spreading your legs apart and breaking apart the ropes that tried to interfere with his ministrations. he shakily inhales when he sees your arousal slowly spill out — you're so fucking wet. his heated gaze leaving goosebumps on your skin.

he presses a chaste kiss to your folds, practically salivating as he breathes you in — he's gonna end up cumming in his pants, he's dreamt of this exact moment for so long.

he gathers a considerable amount of saliva in his mouth before spitting it onto your neglected cunt which twitches at the action, the sight is downright filthy and it makes you moan.

he wastes no time — getting on his knees, licking a strip up your slit before devouring your pussy like a man starved for days, shamelessly rutting into the chair you're sitting on at your taste. you taste so good, he wants to drown in it.

he's messy and loud, your hands are still tied behind your back so you can't push his head away and grip his hair when he attacks your clit with his tongue, sucking on it relentlessly. your hips lift up and buck into his face, your noises only getting louder as he fucks his tongue into your warm wet hole. he moans at the feeling of your thighs squeezing around his head and nearly suffocating him — your walls clenching around his tongue as you cry out his name in utter pleasure.

he shoves two of his thick fingers in without any warning — a surprised small squeal leaving your lips, while his tongue works in torturous circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves and eagerly licking between your folds. your pretty whimpers are music to his ears.

clearly overwhelmed with pleasure, you make a pathetic attempt to squirm away from his touch, which earns you a harsh smack to your thigh followed by a bite — his teeth dig into your flesh, leaving behind bruising marks that will sting for days, the line between pain and pleasure blurring.

a familiar feeling settles in your belly, it only builds up as he continues to go down on you. “mark! mark! i'm i’m-” you try warning him, but his fingers only speed up, he sucks harshly on your clit, holding your hips down when you cum — your body shaking, crying out his name oh so sweetly, he wants to hear it again and again, until the only word you know is his name.

he doesn't pull away from your cunt though, drinking up every bit of your release and arousal that you offer — holding you down and forcing you to submit to the relentless pleasure he's giving you, moaning into your pussy like he's having the best meal of his life.

he doesn't let you rest, inserting another finger in — easily massaging that sweet spot that you can't reach as easily as he does.

“oh fuck!” you whine out loud, when he keeps overstimulating your poor pussy, the squelching wet noises only increasing as he eats you out. he loves the way your brain is turning to mush, mindlessly babbling his name along with your sweet noises.

and when you cum again, he still doesn't stop. 

you've lost count of how many orgasms you've had at this point, body too sensitive and shaking almost like a leaf.

with eyes brimming with seemingly never ending tears, vision practically blurry from the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body, it doesn't take him long to bring you to the edge again — except this time you end up squirting all over his pretty face, a surprised noise leaves your mouth as your body jolts hardly.

he finally pulls away. a small moan leaves your lips as you take in the sight in front of you.

mark grayson, on his knees, face all wet and drenched in your juices and his spit, breathing heavily — looking at you like he's going to eat you alive.

he's breathing really heavily, your dazed state makes it hard for you to comprehend things but you can clearly see the big wet spot on his pants. he came — from just eating you out.

“messy fucking slut,” he spanks your already oversensitive pussy making you hiss and cry out, body still quivering and twitching from that intense release.

he pushes your legs apart again, spreading your pussy open for him to see, he mutters a curse under his breath as he sees remnants of your release clinging onto the sensitive skin. he needs to get up before he ends up eating you out — as much as he would love to do that, he can't wait much longer, he needs to be buried inside that sweet cunt of yours and make you see stars.

he gets up from his knees. grabbing your hair, mark makes you lick his face clean, you taste yourself on his face and feel yourself getting worked up again. “good fucking girl, gonna put that mouth to better use, just you wait,” his hand reaches down to pinch your clit, laughing when you let out a small pained noise.

he hastily tears away your bra, the fabric discarded somewhere on the cold floor. he pinches and lightly grazes his nails against the perked up sensitive buds, making you squirm and let out small whimpers — it stings, but it also gets you insanely wet.

“look at that, pretty pussy’s practically begging to be fucked,” he bites down on your shoulder, a pained groan escapes your mouth and he bites harder, pulling away to admire the mark his teeth left.

you barely have time to look at the new addition of marks he's left on your body so far, before he's untying your hands behind your back, taking your wrists into his and pulling you down. you stumble a bit at the harsh tug — legs practically jelly from all those orgasms.

he draws you closer by your arms, manhandling you easily so you're sitting in between his open legs — the cold floor against your warm body.

“take it off,” he commands, gesturing to his pants. you hesitantly take them off, his ruined boxers coming into vision.

he's an impatient man, he always gets what he wants.

mark grabs a fistful of your hair and forces your head down onto his clothed — aching cock, making his impatience very clear.

“dumb bitch, can't do anything herself,” his tone demeaning, shutting up your protests by shoving his thumb in your mouth. he lifts his hips up to finally free himself of his boxers, his cock standing up — bobbing and leaking with pre. you gulp, eyes flitting back over to his face.

he lets out a small moan as you gather some of your saliva to spit on his hard cock, licking teasingly up his length over one of his prominent veins.

“don't be a fucking tease,” he takes ahold of your jaw harshly, tugging your tongue out before you can close your mouth — that he can't wait to be in and spits on your tongue, making you swallow it, before shoving you back a bit.

he pushes your hair out of your face so he could watch you better, the gesture so sweet and gentle — it makes you almost forget how mean he's been.

you slowly start pushing his length into your mouth, “thaaat's right, take it like the good slut you are,” his words die down into a groan as he feels your tongue swirl around his sensitive tip.

he's being nice for once, letting you take your time, your head bobs up and down as you suck him off while your hands jerk the rest of his cock that you can't fit in your mouth, tongue working against his sensitive spots.

but your mouth feels so good, so warm, so wet — his hips jerk up involuntarily, making you gag and tear up at the burn you feel at the back of your throat.

you look so pretty like this, those pretty lips wrapped around his cock, eyes glassy — don't blame him for wanting to ruin you when you look like that.

he pulls himself out of your mouth slightly — just to make sure he doesn't end up cumming too soon, before shoving himself back in, moaning in pleasure at the sensations he feels. you keep sucking, forcing all of him in your mouth, almost choking on his cock, some drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth, but it's worth it — worth those small whimpers and grunts he lets out, ones he can't hold back because of how good he feels right now, all because of you.

and when your hand reaches down to lightly toy with his balls, cupping them, he shivers and lets out a low moan of your name, without a proper warning his cock twitches in your mouth and he cums, hard — flooding your mouth with his thick salty release.

you try to swallow as much as you can but it's too much, however, mark being the fucking asshole he is, forces your head back down on his twitching cock and pinches your nose shut making it hard to breathe.

he breaks into a full blown laugh. oh how he loves the way your eyes water up — that panicked expression on your face as you struggle to breathe, some of his cum leaking out your pretty mouth, squirming and still trying to push him away. it only turns him on more, “it's rude to talk with your mouthful,” he quips, holding your gaze.

he lets you go finally and you pull him out of your mouth quickly, throat already feeling sore — you cough, wiping away his cum and your spit from your face with the back of your hand.

“you should've seen the look on your face,” he chuckles darkly — clearly pleased with himself, shifting closer to you to pin you down, wasting no time shoving his tongue in your mouth, messily kissing you. he lets you pull off his shirt, his hips buck a little when you start feeling him up.

he can taste himself on your tongue and god that only adds to his growing arousal.

he pulls away a little so he can start biting and sucking down your neck, his other hand sneaking down to tease your pussy — tracing circles onto your clit, he grinds against you, “gonna fucking ruin you for everyone else,” he bites your earlobe, tugging on it, his fingers moving to tease your other hole, “gonna make sure this fucking pussy is always full of me,” he slaps your pussy, making you cry out his name.

he quickly aligns himself with your wet entrance, taking a deep breath before nudging his tip in — shoving it all in one go, making you tremble in both pain and pleasure that'll build over time, “come on i know you can take it, isn't this what you wanted?” he coos mockingly, pressing sloppy wet kisses to your face, licking your face like some fucking dog, leaving your face covered in his spit.

as soon as your muscles relax the tiniest bit he's thrusting in and out of you like a madman — you yelp loudly, holding onto him for dear life, nails digging into his back.

“fuck- oh my god!”

the only sounds in the room are the fast wet sounds of him thrusting into you, your pussy squelching loudly at the action and your combined moans and whines.

your gummy walls clench around him harder with each thrust, his cock hitting that sweet spot so well it has you seeing stars, all you can think about is him.

“oh fuck,” he grunts into your ear when he feels you tighten around him, gripping him like a vice, “think she needs to be filled all nice and warm with my cum, don't you agree baby?” he accentuates each word with a harsh thrust, relishing the way your body writhes under him.

you nod mindlessly, desperate for that sweet release more than anything.

“aww what's wrong?” he leans down to suck on one of your nipples, pinching and toying with the other one — a choked out sob leaves your lips, you feel tears pooling in your eyes, you clench around him even harder, desperate to milk him for all he's worth. he lets out a whine when he sees the outline of his cock in your belly going in and out, fuck he's going to cum.

the movement his hips falter at the feeling of your pussy gripping him tightly, “oh fuck,” he breathes heavily, muscles tensing up a bit. he pulls out, moving you on your stomach, giving your ass an appreciative spank when you arch your back for him.

“guess she answered for you hm?”, he muses — pumping himself a few times before settling back into your warm needy cunt, “fucked too dumb to answer but can still arch your back like a needy whore? you're so fucking pathetic,” he licks over the opening of your little hole, an arm coming around to hold you in a headlock that has your vision blurry — in the best way possible. getting impatient, you try to fuck yourself back onto his length but he doesn't let you.

“nasty girl, i can feel you clenching around me” spank “you like it when i’m being mean hm?” spank “oh right you can't answer,” spank “not a thought behind those pretty eyes hm?” spank “don't worry, you don't have to think at all, you wouldn't have to, when i’m done with you.”

he starts rutting into you again, his filthy mouth doesn't stop as he dicks you down like his life depends on it. his arm around your neck — squeezing, leaving you dizzy as he pounds into you from behind like he's in heat, you've given up on trying to control your noises. he sneaks a hand down to pinch and toy with your clit — making your walls clench and toes curl and you cum for the nth time with almost a scream of his name, your body shakes vigorously as a result of your intense orgasm.

it doesn't take long for him to cum as well, especially with you screaming his name like that. with a few more sloppy thrusts he fills you up with his warm sticky white release, head thrown back as a soft whimper of your name is uttered out of his mouth.

breathing heavily, he makes sure to not waste a single drop — once again buries himself as deep as he can, admiring all the various marks that he has littered your skin with.

he pulls out after awhile, keeping your thighs apart with his rough calloused hands so he can see the sight of his cum mixed with yours leak out of your hole, shit, he's getting hard again.

he's honestly not sure if you can keep up — he doesn't want to end up hurting you- well you're his toy, nothing more than that he doesn't care if he hurts you, he really doesn't.

he wants to break you, ruin you. yeah, that's it.

his eyes definitely do not soften the slightest bit as he takes in your disheveled state, back still arched prettily for him, your ass red from all his spanking, skin battered with various marks, a proof of the intense passionate sex you two had.

but when you crane your head back, looking at him, “I can take it,” you're still trying to catch your breath, wincing a bit as you shift your body around, “give it to me mark,” you sound so sweet — swaying your hips side to side to make him give in and fill you up again.

you want him to break you.

and he does just that.

again and again, until he's sure your cunt remembers each vein and curve of his cock, stuffing your hole full to the brim each time.

so when your body finally gives out — almost passing out after another orgasm that he pulls out from you, lying on top of the only desk in the room as he drills into your cunt, he stops. pulling out and painting your tits with his release with a loud groan, his hair is sticking up in all different directions from the way you've kept pulling on it, body coated in a sheen layer of sweat — shaking as his chest heaves unevenly with each breath he takes just like yours.

he watches as your eyes close shut and you drift into a light slumber after a few minutes. his heart beating weirdly in an erratic manner, he chalks it up to the sex, although he has to admit he finds your sleepy face quite adorable, he may or may not want to hear that giggle again — the one you let out when he ended up cumming a little too fast when you praised him.

but he'll think about that when his face is not buried between your thighs, tongue sinking back into your folds — he can't get enough of you.

and with the way you whimper loudly, tugging on his hair oh so eagerly.

it seems like you can't get enough of him either.

so he'll indulge you to your heart’s content — maybe he'll save that video of him torturing your ex boyfriend and leaving him to die in a ditch for some other day.

© digitald0rk 2025. do not steal, repost or translate any of my work. want more? click here ★

[theorist-fox]

Simon breaks your fever

Because I can't stop thinking about this

18+

CW: you're sick (fever, high body temp), fluff, established relationship, smut (clit rubbing, unprotected p in v sex, premature ejaculation). you're so hot (literally) that simon busts a nut

Masterlist 🦊

Your fever hasn’t gone down.

Despite you telling Simon that it’s okay, that it’s just seasonal flu and pretty much half of your colleagues have had it, that man can’t stop fussing.

On day two, you heard him grumble over the phone that he had to take some days off for family matters. And while it was cute to listen to him refer to you as family, this whole thing was an overreaction.

You had a cold and a mild fever; you weren’t on your deathbed.

But then he came into the bedroom straight after ending the call, holding a cuppa in one hand and your pills in the other. Left them on the nightstand before pressing his lips to your forehead to check if you were still warm—grumbled something about you heating up the room when he pulled back with a frown.

And then he helped you sit up, fluffed the pillow behind your head, and smoothed away the hair sticking to your forehead. Made sure you took your pills, made sure you were comfortable and cared for and—

—and oh, isn’t your heart melting into a puddle.

You decide that being sick can’t be that bad, when he makes it feels this good—even if you’re cranky and feverish.

And so, you start offering bright smiles when he presses cold, wet towels to your cheeks. Brush kisses on his knuckles when his palm comes to feel your forehead. Whisper thank yous when he insists you eat in bed, your bowl of soup carefully placed on a wooden bed tray.

And when he gets in bed at night, seemingly unafraid of catching your same bug, you press your back to his chest and fit in his arms. Simon’s already a walking furnace on his own, and your fever doesn't help with the uncomfortable stickiness that grows between your bodies through the night.

Simon doesn’t care, especially on day three, when you decide that a reward is on schedule. Poor man’s been at your beck and call ever since your early symptoms have appeared, so why not give him a reward of sorts.

You press your ass against his crotch, rolling slow circles that rouse him from his slumber.

Simon’s first instinct, however, is to stop you. A big hand flattens on your belly, fingers twitching to resist the urge to curve around your waist and grasp until he dimples the fat there.

A hum leaves him. “What are you doing?”

You nuzzle the pillow and act all innocent, even if he can’t see it in the pitch-dark room.

“Nothing,” you tell him. “Can't sleep. Feel a little restless, with the fever and all.”

“Restless,” he echoes with humour, already catching on. “Need me to wear you down?”

You turn your head until his nose bumps with your cheek. He presses a kiss there.

“Mmh,” you hum with a smile. “Maybe."

His hand rises slowly, and you’re delighted to feel the pads of his fingers reach your chest. He cups your breast through your shirt and thumbs your nipple, already pebbled and stiff. 

Hard like his cock pressing against you.

Your skin is unbearably sensitive due to your fever, and the slightest touch could easily turn into stinging pain. That’s why as soon as he skims over your nipple your body goes haywire and you jolt, grinding the swell of your ass against him. 

Simon presses forward, meeting your inadvertent movement. 

There’s a moan coming from both sides. Yours is more cracked, a wonderful cocktail of relief and soreness—though you’re liking this more than you should, probably. You’re never one to say no to a bit of pain now, are you?

Simon, on the other hand… oh, Simon. His voice is low—gravel against the road. A groan that sounds like it’s coming from a dry throat, strikingly possessive when paired with the gentleness with which he’s holding you.

“Lemme take care of you then, yeah?” He whispers, leaning closer to your ear. 

He tucks his arm under your neck, letting you nestle your cheek in the crook of his elbow. You’re sure he must be running hot too, but you’re sporting a whopping 100.4 body temperature, making his skin feel like an ice pack. 

You sigh beautifully at the slight relief he provides.

Simon takes care of you first, like he's so kindly offered, and you don’t fight against him.

You don’t fight against his hand snaking under the waistband of your sweats. Don’t fight against the pads of his fingers drawing slow eights on your clit. 

What you do instead is bury your face in his forearm, as he presses soft kisses to the exposed skin on your neck.

You get wet embarrassingly easily. He collects it with his middle finger before returning to the tight knot of your clit, circling gently—no rush whatsoever.

He checks in every once in a while, whispering soft questions to your skin as he explores it with his lips.

Are you okay?, and a kiss. You hurtin'?, and another kiss, right under your ear. He waits for you to reply each time, before finally giving in and nuzzling the nape of your neck through your hair. 

He goes on, murmuring sweet nothings when you whine and he can’t pinpoint if it’s from pleasure or your body aches.

“That's it, love,” he whispers, coaxing moans from your lips as his fingers guide you closer and closer to the edge. Steadfast on your clit, he keeps a rhythm he knows will crack through you—break the mould of stiff muscles and sore skin.

Your orgasm catches the breath in your throat. It almost stings, burning through you in waves that stem from your sex and ripple in all directions.

Until your body undulates with it, pressing back into his. Until your voice follows suit too, cracking gently as you bite into the thickness of his forearm to keep quiet.

Simon’s panting against your shoulder like he came as well. It’s impossible not to notice the girth of his cock indenting the fat of your ass, how deliciously hard he is just because he’s touched you so thoroughly.

It gets you drunk on power to know how little it takes for you to do that to him.

His lips are pursed in a kiss ardently left to the crook of your neck. You feel the wetness of it, the heat seeping through your much hotter skin. His fingers slow down, until soft circles turn into mere flicks on your clit that gently drag your consciousness back into your body, back into his arms.

“Alrigh'?” He murmurs to the skin of your neck, as he huffs from his nose to balance his breathing.

“Mhmh,” you reply absentmindedly, still foggy and dipped in a dreamy state.

Gingerly, the hand buried in your knickers travels to your waist, leaving a wet trail that slowly dries up—from the curls on your pelvis all the way to your hip. He pinches you softly.

“Can I fuck you?” He asks.

In response, you press your ass to where he’s waiting for you.

“Yes, please—yes.” You say, not bothering to veil your willingness. 

If your bones weren’t aching, you’d let him fold you like cheap paper. Knees to your ears and all.

Simon’s fingers tug down your pants and knickers at the same time, exposing the burning skin of your ass to the air. Even under the duvet and pressed against him, everything feels so unbelievably fresh—it’s utter relief that has you softening against his chest. 

Relief that ratchets up when you feel the head of his cock glide seamlessly through your slit, causing you to grind your hips backwards each time it catches your swollen clit.

His tongue lavishes the skin of your neck, distracting you from the pleasurable pain of the stretch as he comfortably slides in. You feel your muscles tighten around him, as your nails dig into his arm wrapped around your waist.

But Simon’s the one who seems most out of his element, for once.

“Jesus fucking Christ, love.” He breathes heavily to your shoulders. His voice doesn’t even sound like him.

The hand around your waist grabs a handful of your clothes, fabric bulging within the grooves of his fingers, while the one extended under your neck fists the pillow until his knuckles paint white.

“F-fuck—you’re burnin’ up.” He croaks, burying his face against the back of your head. “Bloody hell—fuckin’ melting me down ‘ere.”

He tries to move but his voice cracks in a moan before he stops completely. More muted curses leave him.

“Fuckin’ hell you feel good.” He pants, voice so breathy you can barely hear him, and you wonder if he’s talking to you at all. “S’ so fuckin’ hot.”

He stays stock still inside of you, hips flush to your ass. 

But you’re as cheeky as they come, and he should know that already.

Which is why you move, canting your hips until you can feel him slide out of you, and then back in.

“Fuck, no—sto—"

Simon grunts. Chokes on it. 

One flick of your ass has him unravel. He cums inside of you with a quick snap of his hips to meet yours, and the slap of flesh against flesh would be loud if it weren’t for how strong his groan is. 

For how much he’s filling you up, buried to the hilt until you swear you can almost feel him throbbing in your stomach.

Simon hides in the crook of your neck, holding on tight with a stiff arm curled around your belly. You can feel his heartbeat thunder against yours, as if merging together—erratic and unsteady.

It takes him a while to recover, to catch his breath. You coax him out of his bubble gently, threading your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp until you feel him deflate behind you with a sigh.

“Bit of a cunt move, that.” He mumbles, but there’s no bite in his voice.

You smile. Somehow the aches in your body soften up, and you feel like floating on a cloud.

“Well, I'd say you didn't mind much,” you say innocently.

He snorts.

A hand lands blindly on your face, and he gives it a good scramble until you’re chuckling in his palm. You easily recognize that as his way to sneakily check for your temperature, while masking it as a playful jab.

“Sorry,” you feel compelled to say, though your voice is muffled by his hand.

And then he nuzzles your shoulder, planting a fat kiss on your neck. 

“S’alrigh’,” he says softly. “Saved us from a third-degree burn, after all. Gotta thank you for tha'."

You burst into a laugh that he catches with his mouth—his fingers already curled around your jaw, turning your head his way before you can utter another word.

Your laughter seeps through your lips onto his, vibrating until his cheeks curl into a smile of his own.

Infectious, like your stupid flu.

Because the next morning, Simon wakes up with a terrible sore throat, though he doesn’t feel as annoyed as he thought he'd be.

In fact, he decides being sick can't be that bad, when you make it feel this good.

Even if now you're both cranky, feverish, and all.

[ohmygraves]

thinking about reader who is on their period n simon who lives with them and ended up just following them around because they don't want to get up because of the cramps.

water? already on the nightstand, it's also warm so it won't make the cramps worse.

meds? some painkillers are ready just next to the glass of water.

food? just let him know when you want to eat. he'll even feed you.

no more tampon/pads? send him a picture of the packaging, he's already at the store getting some and grabbing some chocolate and snacks too on the way.

at first he gets annoyed because you would call him over every so often, especially when he's trying to chill. but seeing how you look so upset and pissed over the cramps and the way you're bleeding profusely, he decided to suck it up and make things at least more bearable for you because if not he's not going to hear the end of it.

has been made fun of by his mates when they were over for game night and you're having the blood fountain, because simon gets all obedient and would drop everything to attend to you.

"simon, need water..."

"'kay love," and he's getting up from the couch, beer forgotten somewhere and grabbing some warm water for you to drink. like an obedient dog following orders.

he's probably learned his lesson after you threw a tantrum when he ate your chocolate and he didn't come when you called him.

[tsuyanouchi]

Roronoa Zoro [One Piece] by TsuyaNoUchi

https://tsuyanouchi.etsy.com

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

You certainly love your poor himbo!vampire lover, but he’s definitely not the sharpest tool in the shed.

Like all vampires, his saliva has healing properties so his victims don’t bleed out during his feedings. Because of this, he’s taken to freaking out when you get injured and immediately licking the wound, planting a soft kiss on it after.

He smells your blood, and he gets nervous. The man adores you, he’d be lost if you died!

So when you woke up to the soft ache in your cunt being combated by the pleasure of your boyfriend sucking on your clit, you were quite confused.

As you rubbed your sleepy eyes, you heard your boyfriend choking on his sobs, tears rolling down his pale cheeks as his hands held onto your thighs.

“Y-you’re gonna be okay, angel. Going to… going to make it better…” he blubbered, your blood dripping down his chin before he moved back to your aching cunt.

“Love…”

He sniffled as you reached out a hand to cup his cheek, gently swiping your blood from his lip. “I’m not injured, I’m just on my period.”

Your lover blinked, his eyes going wide, and you could tell if he could blush his cheeks would be a bright red with embarrassment.

“O-oh…”

As he pulled away, you grabbed him by the hair and guided his lips back to your pussy. “But you’re still helping, sweet thing.”

His eyes softened and he settled back down between your thighs, his cheek resting against your belly as he softly nuzzled against it. “Then I’ll take care of you… I’ll always take care of you, my angel…”

So you sat back and relaxed as he fed, making sure to gently push you over the edge and ease your pain.