#series: notsfw

[malinaa]

my roving hands

rated: explicit | 3k | post-hell bent

Summary: Darlington and Alex finally fuck.

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Desire blazes through her body.

It shouldn’t be this hard to ignore the tension simmering between them. Alex has been half-wanting to fuck Darlington ever since she saw him. His handsome face, the scholarly gleam in his eyes, the care he puts into everything he does. The feeling has grown, morphed, become complicated the more she learns about him.

If she didn’t know he was under the influence during the Manuscript party, Alex wouldn’t have minded if he continued his journey upwards, to see that soft devotion in his eyes as he buried his face between her legs. She wouldn’t have minded if he took up her offer the next morning. Wake up and fuck me or cut that out. The memory of him hard against her ass comes easily as if she’s conjured it again and again. Alex almost flushes again as she recalls the way his thumb lazily rubbed over her nipple and—

Stop.

[reikunrei]

y’all ready for something messy !!! get your creelarke nasty on here

[spifan]

god created the universe and then create me to spread belgian men yaoi as a punishment for humanity

hello world!! im phú – tp for short!, he/him, vietnamese, mid 20s. i’ve been running this sideblog since 2017 for fun (guy who picked s&f as his special interest... sad!) and by no means whatever i say on here represent everyone in the fandom, we’re all allowed to have fun + have our own personal opinions on them! so just enjoy yourselves and please be respectful and play nice with each other ^_^

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i’d say this blog is 16+ for general talk / language / social views / topic discussions etc. blacklist lime (suggestive) or lemon (notsfw) + nsft if u dont want to see them! esp if youre a minor, alright? be good.

this is the shorten version of the navigation, only the “essentials” so i’ll try my best to properly tag the section below so you guys can access the blog easily. other tags not listed here will most likely be hit or miss

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*my fanart tag // my answer tag / my posting tag + my Freaks tag / my talking tag (mostly rambles, but sometimes i discuss things & flesh out headcanons + drafting psychoanalysis posts in there too) // my personal favs tag 

*my in-depth “characters analysis – comics dissection” tag + longform psychoanalysis of the series (pretentious) (serious) // “tumblr user spifan lore” tag – creative liberties (?) aka shits i literally made up for them. or just My Lore (?)

“official” tag // scans/screencaps (my panels dump) / collection <- fun!

my general crap tag (NOT consistently tagged) -> sub-tags: edit–meme / video (every type) / *moodboard / tagging fun lol / web weaving… / whatever this is???

other ppls crap tag? (again, NOT consistently tagged) -> fanart // fanfic // other people’s ramble/analysis // *FAVORITE TAG!

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tumblr’s heritage image of the s&f nation:

MY SPIFAN CARRD!;; <- UNDER CONSTRUCTION. will be a compact spirou et fantasio 101 page Hopefully

MY SPIFAN NOTION!; <- this is more abt MY OWN version of s&f + leading page to some of My most elaborate s&f aus, but since its more personal than general s&f + its like a notebook for how i write them so its in vietnamese

DUPUY EDITORIAL OFFICE INVITE <- its actually just the name of the current rather active s&f discord lol. come join the fun! only if ya wanna <3 we’re all chill 

*MY ENTIRE S&F DRIVE FOLDER* <- you only need to shoot me a request and i’ll allow you asap. it has almost every albums i’ve been collecting over the years for you to read to your heart’s content! it also has other bds with BIG help from my bd friends like billy & spectre & an & pooka & kem etc. MORE THAN ENOUGH. I PROMISE. and i will try to update it… i dont promise

-> you CAN read the rest / the ones i dont have on my drive @ spiroureporter (english fan translation, hiatus) OR readcomiconline (official english translation) OR on vk (french original). for vk you need to have an account and wait until the admin let you join the group though but they have ALL the scans. there are other individual sources too if u want to dig but here are 3 vk groups that im in:

vintage spirou journals from 1938 -> 1961

current spirou journals from 2014 -> now

every (pretty much?) spirouverse (ew) albums

[stxneflxwers]

blocked criteria: ⋯⁂ i find out you blocked me first. i simply return the favor. ⋯⁂ minor interacting with any notsfw posts. ⋯⁂ you are disrespectful toward me or anyone else. ⋯⁂ bring any kind of politics onto my blog. ⋯⁂ bring in character x character ships. im strictly reader-insert and oc-insert. ⋯⁂ requesting when i do not have requests open. ⋯⁂ empty / p-bot blog. note: some of these have a three-strike system. i don't warn you if you get a strike.

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED.

DON'T YOU DARE REQUEST ANYTHING UNTIL GIVEN EXPLICIT PERMISSION.

note: sending brainrots and ideas is fine!! i love those. do send them.

miscellaneous info: ⋯⁂ i'm mentally disabled. yes, i will actually act unhinged from time to time. but this does not mean i'm not willing to own up to my mistakes! pls bring any issue you have with me to, well, me. this doesn't mean air it out into the public landscape. ⋯⁂ i'm a very slow writer usually. i can't really force myself to stick to my own deadlines either. i'm also horrific with writing series/multi-chaptered fics, so i stray away from them most of the time. things are either updated slowly or never. lol, sorry. ⋯⁂ DC (dark content) blogs are safe here, no worries. i might not follow back due to being easily triggered by many things, but that doesn't mean i hate you or anything.

[calkatsu01]

tags

(c)art - my art tag

(c)general - general tag for everything

(c)comms - for commission information, announcements, and previous commissions

(c)notsfw - for the rare occasion i post something nsfw

(c)series name - for fanwork general tags

(c)character name - for specific characters

(c)original - for original works, characters, and generally nonfandom related work

[qveenpoppy]

saw someone do a nsfw headcanon post about zed and i’m sorry but this man 100% gets pegged. like there’s no doubt about it, he takes the strap all the time.

[rovinky]

Their arrangement is not supposed to go like this: a phone call leads to a new daytime meeting place, leads to the uppermost levels of a quiet parking garage, leads to stepping out into the hot afternoon, leads to standing beneath the baking sun, leads to looking around suspiciously for a gray car, leads to… nothing.

The Gray Man never shows.

Part 4 of Declan working out his issues with the Gray Man

[favoriteliar-archive]

Do you have any favorite bevchie fics? (In any relationship capacity I don’t really care haha)

i cant think of any platonic bevchie fics right now because i mostly read / fics instead of & fics but here are some that i remember enjoying!! (and looking at this list, im sorry its so much smut, but thats what most of them were last time i went looking for bevchie)

also looking at these fics makes me wanna write them :(((

To Tonight and The Future 

some happy and smutty pre-established bevchie!

Go Where You Want To

hhhhh good smut

Lipstick on Your Skin

more smut.....

Best Friends

this fic explores their relationship throughout the years, and how they experience their first sexual experiences with each other

Netflix and Chill

just good bevchie smut. like theyre so open with each other, its great

What are Best Friends For?

okay this is like. my favorite bevchie smut. just good ol’ fwb having fun with each other

Broken Together

just... nice and soft bevchie

Something Tragic, but Almost Pure

more fwb bevchie but like! with more emotion! and its also throughout the years!

[gunkierengines]

Regrettable shit that happened tonight: a friend and I realized that the lipstick boundaries scene in Fifty Shades Darker actually perfectly fit Daphne and Leone post-canon when he was initially dealing with his chest scars from KC.

[bumbleklee]

save a horse, ride a cowboy

masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | family series

prompt: yeah 

pairings: diluc, kaeya, , albedo, zhongli and childe x afab!reader (separate)

warnings: NOTSFW -- MINORS DNI, riding drabbles

a/n: dedicated to the nsfw chat in my discord lol. speaking of my discord — i have a genshin/tumblr server! it’s kind of dead right now but everyone is so kind. it’s a 16+, drama-free zone (!!!) and anyone is welcome. you can get to know me or other amazing blogs :) here’s the link to join

diluc

Diluc’s hands are gripping your hips so hard he’s sure they’re going to leave bruises on your smooth skin. He drives his hips upwards, over and over again, a loud smack echoing through the room every time he bottoms out. 

Dirty words fall from your mouth and your eyes roll back into your head, incredibly aware of your lover slamming against your walls. 

He isn’t one for such words himself so he groans instead. A thumb reaches out to rub against your clit and you keen. Diluc sits back against the mountain of pillows and throws his head backwards. 

Diluc could watch you ride him all day. He would never get tired of the angelic sight you betrothed in front of him, whimpers and cries spilling out from your mouth. Your thighs flex and you fuck yourself down harder.

And when you finally come, Diluc isn’t far behind. You lunge forward, your legs shaking, and meet Diluc halfway with a passionate kiss that rides out of the orgasm.

kaeya

You sink down onto Kaeya as slow as ever. Your eyes glint with deviation as he disappears inch by inch. 

Kaeya leans forward and breathes in your scent. His nose nuzzles into the crook of your neck and he really holds himself back from pulling out and slamming back into you with full force. When you start moving, Kaeya sees stars. 

You lift your hips nearly all the way off Kaeya’s cock before falling back down in one fluid motion. His hips jerk and you groan, causing Kaeya to smirk and do it again. 

The rhythm is erratic and you draw your brows together. At some point, Kaeya’s hands find your hips and he takes charge. You’re moving far too delicately for his taste. You cry out loudly, fingers tangling in Kaeya’s lovelock. 

It’s far too entertaining to watch you come undone for him. 

albedo Albedo liked to tease you – that much was known. 

Like now, when you were ruining your makeup with teary eyes because Albedo’s cock just felt so good inside of you. If only he would pay attention to you. 

Your lover kept a straight face on his painting while you grinded erratically. You wondered if Albedo even felt good and when you saw the tiny breathless gasps, you knew he did. Your fingers dove down to find your clit, your high rapidly approaching, and Albedo still didn’t budge. 

Your cunt fluttered around Albedo and you moaned into his ear. Your free hand grasped his shoulder as you tried to center yourself. By now, Albedo’s thighs were a mess with your juices. 

A loud gasp escaped your lips and your toes curled as your orgasm slams into you. You fell two strong hands on your hips and a head lulls to your shoulder as Albedo reaches his peak, too. 

zhongli

Zhongli’s eyes are already half-lidded with lust when you sink down onto his cock. He grunts once and bites his lip to prevent any lewd sounds from escaping. 

You stare down at your lover and grin. How ironic is it that he’s the one worshiping you? Zhongli’s hands trace your thighs, digging his nails into your hips when you grind down. You whisper sweet nothings into his ear, affirming and assuring him even more. 

His hips jerk up, his body desperate to just pound inside of you, but you only smirk and continue to roll your hips slowly. He’s had enough of your show and fucks up into you quickly. Your confidence falters and a chorus of moans leaves your lips. Your voice climbs higher and higher with each thrust. 

When you reach for your clit, Zhongli pushes your hand away. He wants to make you come from just his dick – and he does. Within moments, your back is arching and you come hard. Your entire body tenses and your eyes roll back. 

Zhongli isn’t far behind you. 

childe

Childe bit into your shoulder with vengeance. The mark left behind was evident of that. The mirror in front of you did wonders to your sex life and you and Childe were as horny as ever. 

You stifle a whine as your hips rolled back and forth. Childe gripped your hips so hard you were sure he was going to cut off your blood circulation. You felt like you were being hypnotized – pathetically bouncing on your lovers’ cock in front of your reflections. 

Sweat rolled down your forehead but you didn’t care. You just felt so good. Childe whispered dirty words into your ear, sending hot shivers down your spine, and when his grip on your body increased, you knew he was close. 

You fucked yourself on Childe’s cock roughly. Your thighs ached, begged you to stop, but the building heat in your core demanded you keep going. You were so close, all you needed were a couple more hits to your g-spot and you would be coming all over your lover. You always wondered what your orgasm face looked like. 

[sheep-from-rad]

—Home at last warning: notsfw (not graphic), bondage. MINORS DNI Note: It's too hot even though it rained all night. This will probably become a mini series? I have this idea before I even started writing here again and it was originally only about Xiao but that idea kind of lost its footing and expanded. Welp, see ya in the next installment I guess. Masterlist

Perhaps it was a fascination with how he kept his belts. Though leather can last decades it can still fade due to sunlight and sweat. He has been to many fights because of the hidden dangers in Inazuma but his belt remained unblemished. From the hair side to the buckles, it fills your senses with with his hidden desire to devour you whole.

“Tell me if they get too tight. I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.” Thoma placed a chaste kiss on your lips opposed to the lust-ridden eyes that drink your form. It has been a while since he got you alone because of the vision hunt decree. The uproar at the 100th vision hunt had him locked inside the tea house for his own protection. Thoma just got so lucky that the young master of the Kamisato household and a few of their men managed to smuggle him back safe and sound. He helped out around the house as their housekeeper and then proceeded to skip dinner after hearing that you’re in his room waiting. He didn’t take time to have your body situated on his tatami covered floor. Arms behind your back with both wrists restricted by his belt and legs fully bent tied in crimson ropes giving full access to your honeypot.

He removed his headgear, the last barrier that serves as his crown as the ‘fixer’ of Inazuma. His eyes never once left your vulnerable form. Tonight, he is Thoma and tonight he’s in full control.

[witch-hazels-musings]

I was wondering what aftercare with boys (maybe Albedo, Childe, and Diluc for now?) would be like? Maybe even after the "firsts" series?

Aftercare

Warning -> let’s be safe -> NOTSFW (18+) (character takes care of reader after sex)

Character X GN Reader | Anthology  

Includes: Diluc, Albedo, Childe

Diluc

Diluc is so sweet, he would take great care of you afterward

His aftercare isn’t just physical actions like helping you clean up, or bringing you something comfortable to wear - preferably one of his shirts - but he’s also mentally and emotionally caring afterward

He’d lay under you so you could rest your head on his chest, he’d stroke your hair and run his fingers down your back or arm - this level of touch and affection he shows you are all in an effort to express how much you mean to him

He’d ask you questions or offer to get you a glass of water, he’d ask how your body is doing and would listen to every little thing you do

The bed was exactly what you needed it to be, comfortable, warm, safe. You lay with your arms bent and hand fussing with your hair as you come down from your high. As you take in a deep breath your nose is filled with the mixture of your two scents and with longing eyes, you look in the direction of the bathroom. You heard running water spill into the sink and wished Diluc would return faster.

Your eyes closed, the numbing pleasure which seeped throughout your body had started to drift away and soreness began to replace it. As you shifted on the mattress, a sudden wave of discomfort blanketed your lower half and a whine sounded from your throat. Diluc entered the room shortly after, in his hands he held a washcloth and a cup.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. You adored him so much, it was almost painful how much.

“A bit sore.” You chuckle and lift yourself up to rest against the headboard. He extended the cup to you and when you took a sip the cooling water refreshed your dry throat.

“I might have gone overboard.” He looks at his hands, his face remorseful.

You place your hand on his and give it a squeeze. “You didn’t. I know you would never hurt me, it’s okay if you are a little rough sometimes.” His eyes connect with your own and you avert your gaze. “and, I didn’t dislike it.”

“Hmm.” His hands came into view, his fingers wrapping around the rim of your glass and you let him take it. He tapped your chin and when you looked at him he smiled. “I’ll remember that for next time.” He brushed the loose strands of your hair out of the way and you closed your eyes at his touch. “Now, lay down and get comfortable, I’ll clean you up.”

He wiped you down with the washcloth. By this point, you were sure it would be cold, but you see steam drifting off of it; he must have used his vision to warm the rag in his hands, how sweet. Once he cleaned your skin, taking great care in not abusing it anymore, he offered you one of his shirts. The two of you settled into the soft sheets and within a matter of minutes, you were asleep in his arms. He ran his fingers through your hair until the calmness of your breathing and the comforting pressure of your body lulled him to sleep.

Albedo

He’s a bit more clinical and will do everything much like he is checking off a checklist of items in his head

Has he gotten you a glass of water, has he provided for you some way to clean up - does he need to help you - are you comfortable where you were, or did he need to help move you

Once you have everything you need he’d lay next to you and let you get comfortable, he’d stroke your skin and breath in your hair and be so content to the point he would wonder if this was all real

Your breathing hard and riding the waves of your pleasure as it spills out around you. Turning your head back to Albedo he rests his forehead against yours and the two of you simply experience one another, you exist as one and attempt to return to the individuality which had been forgotten these last hours.

A disappointing whine slips from your mouth as he slides out of you. You’re so empty, even his orgasm spills from you and you wish he had stayed in longer. The tips of his fingers stroke your temples and you open your eyes again. His eyes are fixated on you, his mouth slightly open as he breathes.

“Are you okay?”

You nod and lick your lips. “Yes, It just shocked me is all.”

He laughs from his chest and places a quick peck on your nose before moving off of you and setting his feet on the floor. “I’ll be right back.” You stay on the bed and let your body relax from the experience, turning on your side seemed to ease the loneliness of him no longer being inside of you.

When he returns, now in form-fitting boxers, and in his hands he had a number of things. He laid them out on the bedside table in a neat arrangement, first setting down a glass of what you assumed was water, a small bowl of snacks, a few soft-looking towels, a strange bottle, and a couple other things. You laughed and lifted yourself from the mattress.

“What are all of these things?”

“I wasn’t sure what you might need … afterward…” The word makes him blush and you had the enjoyment of watching his cheeks turn a nice shade of pink.

“That is very sweet of you, what kind of snacks did you bring?” You sit cross-legged and pull the sheets over your body, reaching for the small bowl you find an assortment of nuts and dried berries.

“Ah, one more thing.” He stood up and you watched him rummage through the pile of clothes you two had thrown around the room. He walks back and offers you the shirt you had on earlier. After the two of you feel refreshed from the items he brought, and you answer the questions he had, ranging from how your body felt to what he could do to make you more comfortable, he helped you clean up before relaxing in the bed with you. The sound of the wind knocking against the glass and his breathing made it so hard to stay awake, and soon you were lost in peaceful dreams.

Childe

He may be an energetic lover, but that doesn’t stop him from being considerate afterward

It doesn’t matter how many times the two of you shared in one another, if it was quick, rough, passionate, or strenuous, he’d provide for you all the same - praising you, worshiping your body, comforting your sore legs, and used skin - he’d take special care of you all to let you know how much you mean to him, and how thankful he is that you let him go wild with you

There is a lot of pride that he gets out of taking care of you in the aftermath of sex - it’s just another thing he can win at, and seeing how you crumbled around him and he has to put you back together - right now, you are the only thing in his mind, you’ve captured his full attention

You collapse onto the bed, your legs screaming to stretch out and your mouth looking for air. Childe falls into the space next to you, his back colliding with the comforter and his arms resting on his heaving chest. You shift to look at him and when the two of you see how hard the other is breathing you laugh.

“Fuck, why do you always feel so good?” He rubs his eyes with the palm of his hands, his teeth flashing underneath his smile.

“You bring out the best in me.” You chuckle and lay on your side, pulling your legs closer to your chest.

He shifts onto his side and leans on his arm, his eyes travel across your body, and even though you know you don’t have another round in you, they make you hot. His fingers stroke your arm, moving toward your face to brushing against your cheek.

“I really did a number on you.” He lifts your chin and you can feel your skin stretch the spots where he sucked on you. In fact, you're starting to feel all the bruises he had given you but you didn’t mind. You liked letting him do what he wanted, and you knew it wasn’t from a place of malice.

“It’s okay.” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth at your comment. Suddenly, he stood up from the bed and you watch as he walked into the bathroom. The sound of water cascading down at a heavy pace. A shower did sound nice and you wondered if you’d be able to stand up long enough to take one.

Childe returned shortly, placing a hand on either side of your body, and kissing your hair, you gave him a hum of praise and turned your face to his.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” His hands slide under your body, one under your shoulders until your back rested against him, and the other under your legs. He made you feel so safe and cherished, one of the many reasons you loved him. He carried you to the bathroom and you saw the bath filled with water, its steam filling the space, the scent of sweetness filled your nose and made your eyes even heavier than before.

He carefully helps you in the water, making sure you adjust slowly to the temperature, asking you how it felt or if you were okay every once in a while. As soon as you settled he stepped in after you, making sure his legs supported your upper body and you rested comfortably against his chest.

“You don’t need to go this far.” You smile as you cover your chest with your arms and feel the warm water wrap around you.

“Of course I do. Now, relax and I’ll take care of you.” He washes your arms, cleanses the spots his mouth had laid waste to, cleans your hair, and made sure you were completely comfortable. By the time he was done, you were barely holding onto consciousness. He dried you off and gave you a set of comfortable clothes to wear.

“Thank you, Childe.” You say sheepishly as he helps you into his shirt. The smile he has made appear on your face won’t go away no matter how tired you are.

He places a kiss on each of your cheeks and smirks, “Anything for you. Let’s get some sleep.” You nod your head and he lifts you again. As the two of you settle into bed he makes sure his arms are around you before you drift off to sleep. “I hope you understand that I’ll never be able to let you go.” He whispers against your forehead, his eyes shutting, his chest slowing at the movement of his breaths and he didn't move again until the birds woke him up the next morning.

[jade-parcels]

You’re all mine . . .

No.9 Pantalone x fem!reader (a typical day with this stunning, gorgeous man)

Mentions of bruising, sheltering, dumbing down, possession

He’d happily pick out clothes for you, your whole closet has been meticulously hand picked (and hurriedly bought, his personal shoppers are so stressed) by him. Pantalone deeply enjoys dressing you each morning and undressing you at night. In the mornings, he rolls your stockings up your legs, ringed fingers rubbing up your thighs, he buttons your blouse, slides your skirt up your body, a smirk ghosting his face as the material hugs your hips. The finishing touch is always jewelry. He slides rings onto your fingers, kissing each one as he works, and has you lean forward so he can fasten a necklace clasp around your bruised neck. He’ll adorn your wrists with jingling bangles and hair with sparkling pins. Last but not least, he’ll gently slip your heels on for you, the ones too tall for you to walk in properly but that’s alright, you can hold his arm as you walk to keep yourself upright and naturally, he doesn’t want you walking away from him anyways! So sit pretty by his side, keep those expensive shoes shiny. You look so pretty for him <3 if he was even slightly adept at makeup, he would do that for you too so instead, he has you sit in his lap while you paint your eyelids with neutral colors and color your lips with stunning crimson.

All day you’re cooped up in his office with him. You get to do as you please really, he has staff there who are simply ordered to do whatever you ask. You can ask for expensive food or alcohol (oh how he loves when you get tipsy and dance around his office like a silly little fool), you can point out designer bags or clothes in a catalog and watch them scramble to retrieve those items, you can ask that they recount the latest celebrity news or demand that they play chess with you (Pantalone will glare at those servants if they come too close to winning, he wants to see your smile when you win and get his post-win kiss that you always give him). He spoils you rotten and loves every minute of it because he knows you’ll never leave. Even if you wanted to, you can’t… though he knows the thought has never crossed your mind. Every day you’re dumbed down little by little, every need fulfilled for you so you don’t have to lift a finger. No more cooking or cleaning, no more thinking about that next paycheck. Don’t worry darling, he’ll take care of it. Now lay back and clear your mind, let him keep you close, sheltered, comfortable <3 no need to worry your pretty little head about the tension in Snezhnaya when you can cuddle up against your husbands firm chest, warm and protected, blissfully ignorant

After an expensive dinner, topped off with dessert (which Pantalone insisted on feeding you himself), you’re led back to your shared room. You’re excited to kick off your uncomfy shoes and peel your husbands layered clothes off. The cape, the coat, the vest, shirt, undershirt, each article is tossed to the floor and you feel saliva pool in your mouth as you unravel your treat <3 He smiles his signature, soft smile, allowing you to undress him from the waist up and before you can rip your own clothes off, he takes your wrists, clicking his tongue. Now now… you know better, sweetheart. Only he’s allowed to remove your clothes. When you’re horny like this you’re prone to ripping seams or losing jewelry in the sheets.

Pantalone pushes you back against the fluffy blankets, his silky hair tickling your cheek as he hovers over you. He tells you how stunning you are, how good you are for him, he’s a master at sweet talk. He removes your blouse, kissing down your chest and stomach as he un-does the buttons. Those pretty, slender hands work off your skirt next, groping at your bruised ass and marked up thighs- the stockings stay, those he doesn’t mind ripping off later but now they’ll stay. Your jewelry stays too, pearls sit on your collar bones, gold on your wrists and stones on each finger. Oh archons above, he can barely contain himself- his pants are painfully tight but this is all a ritual he strictly follows. Your bra comes off next, then your soaked, tiny panties. He draws in a breath as he takes in your naked form, mind racing to cook up ideas on where to mark you next oh yes he can hardly wait

He removes the rest of his clothes, allowing his throbbing cock to spring free from the tight slacks he suffered in all day. His pretty gold piercings glint teasingly in the dim lighting, drawing your half-lidded eyes there. You tell him how you can’t wait to feel those shiny studs inside you, obscenities start flowing freely from your mouth- he shoves two ringed fingers to the back of your throat to shut you up… he doesn’t want to hear that right now, you’re riling him up too easily he won’t last long like this- not at all! He uses his free hand to play with your folds, roughly rubbing over your clit. He relishes in the way your body jolts, how you cry for him to give you more, how more slick gushes out of you, your body is just begging for him… He can never say no to you

With little warning other than the way his grip on your waist tightens, he sinks into your welcoming hole, almost sighing in relief as you envelope his aching cock in your sweet warmth. Meanwhile, your cries of ‘too big it hurts!’ fall on deaf ears. Your husband is simply lost in the way you clench in time with his thrusts- see? You didn’t need preparation you’re taking him just fine. And you look absolutely sinful.

He tells you over and over, as he does daily, that you’re his. You’ve been his for so long now, nothing but his his his. His wife, his trophy, his doll, his sweetheart. All his to mark up as he pleases, all his to show off to everyone else, all his to possess, protect, keep away from danger or competition. ‘Cry out for me,’ he demands ‘Tell me how badly you need me.’ So you do. You’re lost in your pleasure, the feeling of his cock and piercings dragging over your sweet spot over and over- the feeling of his teeth sinking into your neck- you dig your nails into his back, arching up into him as you tell him over and over ‘yes- I’m all yours! All for you!’ Fuuuuck you have no idea what you do to him. He’s getting close, he know you are too he can read you like an open book, so he demands that you come with him and of course you do as your husband says.

You’re shaking when he’s done with you. He wasn’t satisfied with one orgasm, he never is, he dragged another three from you and two from himself before he was finally tired out. He shifted you both beneath the covers, pulling them up to your shoulders to protect you from the cold. His hands wandered mindlessly, it wasn’t sexual now just comforting to run his hands along your familiar curves. You listen to his heartbeat as he quietly tells you about tomorrow’s plans. A formal breakfast, a few hours at the office, a game of croquet with a fellow businessman and his wife, a dinner at a theatre show to finish off the night.

Pantalone kisses your forehead as you drift off to sleep, his hold on you is firm and warm, your senses clouded by drowsiness and your husbands cologne. Ah how lucky he is to have you…. He thanks the archons every night that he has you. He’ll never be able to back to a life without you again. So every day will be full of activities together, full of love, full of lust, full of greed.

He’ll keep you by his side forever <3 it’s no trouble at all, really. Now smile, pretty girl, tell him just how much you love him <3 tick tock…He doesn’t like to be kept waiting

[hogwartstoalexandria]

Eye of the Storm

1987w | Mature (notsfw) | Hotcheon: Jason Gideon/Aaron Hotchner

Additional Tags

50 Types of Kisses Writing Prompts, Angst, Depression, Introspection, Character Study, Established Relationship, cabin in the woods, Moody this fic is Moody, Sexual Content, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode: s01e14 Riding the Lightning, Episode: s01e17 A Real Rain

Summary

39. Kissing tears from the other’s face.

Or, cabin emotional h/c post Sarah Jean and Marvin Doyle.

Read it here on AO3 or under the read more!

He's like a man lost at sea. Watching the storm outside the windows of his house, Chaucer on his lap, a book wide open, spilling its poetic guts all around him, yet not able to pierce the wall-hard torrent Jason can feel suffocating him. The clouds are dark, angry. The too-high grass in his yard billows with the wrath of the wind. Air versus earth. Madness and blood. 

Sarah Jean. And now Marvin Doyle. 

The prison gates no more deprived of freedom than the shaking, ailing devastation of New York's latest serial killer. 

No demons in his head, no barking dog, but more victims' voices. More grief and more violation. Haunting him, like it haunts Jason. Has for years, always will. It's a fact of this life. One more bullet point in the job description. It happens to all of them in the end. It will happen to Spencer one day. It's certainly happened to Hotch. 

Like the Grim Reaper come to collect dreams and innocence—the word only exists for others, Jason doesn't remember the last time he felt it for himself—he wishes the weather would let him see the birds, but it's going to pour for another three days. They'll be back on another case by then. Evil takes no breaks. 

He only hears the door close, but pieces back together the key in the door and the handle turning, the wood creaking in its hinges. Like a patchwork of past and present. A collage from memory. Jason doesn't move. What for. He does glance up to see Hotch's suit jacket drape over the back of a chair in the corner, followed by his suitcase propped on the seat. His eyes get stuck on Hotch's large hand as it opens to let the bag down, and closes back in a loose fist. Reflexive motions. They don't mean anything but habit. Sometimes nerves. 

"Jason?" 

Hotch's voice is a shock. Like a lance thrown through air thick as insulation. Keeping the surroundings out, people and creatures and ghosts. Like God come to the lost in a medicated dream. The cushion gives out gradually. First his name, then the rain painting the windows, then a body next to his, fabric rustling at the knees, creasing at the elbows. 

Jason stares, in front of him, and then at the man who lets himself into this house one day but not the next, the next day after that sometimes, when they don't enter together. 

"You're here." His own voice is more foreign still than any other sound. He realizes he hasn't heard it since Ted Elmore's apartment, right before the deafening gunshot. 

"You're crying." 

Hotch is frowning. It's not confusion. It's concern, and that too, is foreign. Not unwelcome, but stunning nonetheless. He doesn't let people close enough to be concerned. 

"Aaron," he says his name, not Hotch. He's close enough for that, too. Aaron holds people at arms' length. Jason runs past boundaries. It's the job as well, but it's more. It's who he is. It's how he sees things, and people. How he sees things in people. 

He sees Aaron. 

"You did what you had to." 

"I know." 

But in the next breath Aaron takes his hand and squeezes. Jason watches that, too. His eyes downcast, not to hide, but to observe. The curve of fingers grabbing for palm, for wrist, for contact. The warmth he cannot see that makes him shudder. The intent, clear as day, yet murky like the rest of the week, month, decade; like the pools of water in the series of potholes in the road that leads here. 

It's a cabin, not a house. Both a haven and an echo chamber. The gunshot. Piercing. Final. Protective. Protocol. 

He looks at their hands; he doesn't move his. 

"Come with me." Aaron's fingers twitch like he wants to rub them together the way he does when he's nervous, but can't with Jason's in the way. He tugs, and Jason goes. Why not. 

His lower back whimpers, but he remains silent. 

The cabin is small, as any refuge must. It's an embrace. Half a dozen steps of Aaron's too long legs, a few more of his, and they can reach the next room. Not the kitchenette on the other side; the bedroom. 

He has a quilted blanket on that bed. A gift from the tech girl, Garcia. He has more photos, framed and precious, lining both the walls not occupied by bookshelves, and even some of those too. Memories held up against novels and anthologies, gathering dust on the dresser and windowsill. He has hiking gear, piled up in yet another chair in the corner. He has Aaron's hand, still holding onto his. 

"What should Morgan do, Jason?" 

"What?" 

"That's what you said, with Sarah Jean." 

Now, that's the confused frown. 

"I'm coming with you." 

"That's what I said today." 

"It is." 

"Talk to me," Aaron whispers, pulling Jason down, lying down, shoes hanging just off the foot of the bed. Jason's socked feet are cold. He doesn't seek out the warmth of Aaron's calves like he might another day, another time. 

"What is there to say? Doyle could have shot me. Elmore lives. He and his girlfriend got a scare that will last them years, less if they're lucky."

"You need a break." 

"No." Jason shakes his head against the pillow. He looks at the way Aaron's hair splays across his. He doesn't reach up to play with it, to feel the silky coolness of the strands. "I have what I need." 

There's no smile on the other man's face. The light in his eyes is troubled brown water. 

"Do you?" The question itself is unfair, but Jason suddenly has to ask. 

Hurt flashes in the brown, makes it clearer before it goes back to blurry, far away, thoughtful. 

"I'm where I want to be," he says, and what he means is Haley's long gone. Ex, not wife. What he means is the boyish dreams he had and held for so long are gone up in flames, and in the ashes he sits. 

"Are you happy?" 

The silence drowns everything else, buzzing, alive. Aaron jerks up. Sitting and toeing his shoes off until they thud down on the carpet. Looking and frowning and huffing. 

"Stop," he says, and then his lips, soft, forgiving, naked, brush under Jason's eyes until he closes them. Not so much a kiss as a caress. Aaron's mouth takes away the tears that were, and catch the ones that come, still. "I'm where I want to be," he repeats. The air in Jason's lungs feels like fire. Like he's been screaming. Or, as it is, crying for hours without realizing he was. 

"What's a vacation?" He'd joked, but with only the appearance of humor. 

The cabin is all he has that resembles it, and Aaron is close enough to know where it is, and to know he is wanted here, in Jason's isle of solitude. 

Eventually, it's not Aaron's mouth he feels but his nose, his cheek, his truly large hand. Rubbing and warming and cupping. Jason goes with it. He tilts his head to invite a kiss, and breathes through that, a real lungful of respite. It's not long before they're not lying side by side but over and under. Aaron's weight on him, like another quilted blanket, pieces of himself he's given to Jason, day after day, bit by bit, from the very beginning. 

Clothes get shed, with less grace than careful attention. That does matter. Old scars are bared, just like fresh ones were. Feeling Aaron's chest against his is yet another stunning sensation. Two bodies breathing in tandem, another item on another of Jason's lists. He threads his fingers in Aaron's hair this time. Grabs for the base of his skull and pulls him down into another kiss. More demanding, less careful, but welcome. Aaron lets him, and more than that, he invites it again when his breath hitches and he smiles into the kiss. Not widely, but enough that the map of his lips shifts against Jason's. A fragile lightness. 

They're always huddled under layers upon layers of clothing, the both of them, so when it's skin on skin and nothing but the faintest sliver of space between them, Jason can't help but grab, but touch, but feel. Aaron is lean everywhere, but Jason finds purchase anyway. He knows where to grip, knows which crooks and lines will make Aaron hiss and moan. 

He travels up and down those points of sensation. He chases the sounds that claw up Aaron's reserve, takes note of them until notes are insignificant, small in the grand scheme of losing himself in what is offered, and what he gives in return. 

Aaron, too, loses himself. He rocks down on Jason's lap, takes him in and wants more, creates a rhythm to the way he cants his hips, and sits and lifts, up and down, and up. Their looped arms keep Jason from falling onto his back again. He squeezes Aaron's waist between them, and Aaron his shoulders. Forehead against forehead. There is no trace of the tears, no trace of the gone, only the real, tangible mass of the man making love to him without calling it that. 

Their eyes are sometimes screwed shut, sometimes wide open, enjoying the raw contact, calling for another, deeper still, union of souls. 

The music of Aaron panting and groaning, quiet even then, is one Jason knows even in his sleep. 

He knows him, and is known by him. The cabin, its walls, the howling wind outside, it's one more stage, one more nook, and it does not change that at all. Nothing can. From one hotel in one town to the next in another state, another year, another case, Aaron has taken more room in Jason's life than, as ashamed of that as he is, even his son has. Inconspicuous, discreet, gentle, sober, all the ways Aaron has settled at his side. A presence like no other. A man tall enough to be towering and yet almost never is, with enough authority to let himself become conceited and rash, and who thinks about sending flowers on your behalf and apologizes for Jason's manners when he forgets them. 

Aaron Hotchner is a mystery made clearer every day. 

Jason pulls and twists and grabs at him until it's Aaron under him, Aaron's legs around him, and their hands clasped on either side of his head. 

"You knew I'd be here." 

Aaron looks amused. His eyes say, of course I did. His mouth just kisses the side of their joined hands. 

It's when he rolls off him, later, that clarity comes. He can hide in files or forests, but he is no mystery anymore either, to at least one person in this world. It's as comforting as it is puzzling. 

"I'll get you a towel," he says, when Aaron starts to move off the bed. He watches him again, right before he leaves for the bathroom, all sprawled long limbs and flushed cheeks and chest, limp everywhere but his eyes, always his eyes. Windows into whose soul, Jason's not so sure in the moment. 

He splashes water over his face, but doesn't look in the mirror. He doesn't need to. Then he gets back. He wipes Aaron clean with the damn towel. Throws in the basket in the corner opposite the chair. They don't cuddle—the very word builds a slight laugh in Jason's throat that has Aaron smiling in return. Like he thought about it at the same time. They lie facing each other, quiet. The storm is still raging outside, but here it's calm. 

They can have three days of that, then get called back. That sounds as close to a vacation as Jason will ever get, and Aaron will ever take. 

Maybe they'll play chess, eating ice cream out of the carton. 

Marie Writes 50 Kisses Masterlist

[marism-tr]

tags organized by type + trigger warnings (tw) used listed at bottom:

general (yes, these are twice track titles)

about me - i can't stop me☆

answered asks - knock knock☆

blog rules - the story begins☆

collabs - fanfare☆

commissions - likey☆

daily life - the feels☆

inspiration - heart shaker☆

memes - alcohol free☆

network/server -  dance the night away☆

nsfw - notsfw🌹

queued - queue me up☆

reference/resource - scientist:themes | writing | languages | life | tumblr☆

replies - signal:name☆

self-care/self-reminders - feel special☆

self-reblog - one more time☆

self-ship - i fancy you☆

series masterlist reblog -  what is love?☆

tag/ask games - yes or yes☆

commissions - likey☆

updates/boosts - breakthrough☆

by fandom content: prefix (fandom abbreviation e.g. tr, jjk, kny, bnha, hq)

tr angst

tr art

tr chara_name | 3+ charas: tr various | bonten | toman | black dragons | tenjiku | valhalla | tr bonten trio | tr pet shop trio

tr fluff

tr hurt/comfort

tr meme

tr revenge

tr smut

tr series

au: band | college | fantasy | social media | sugar baby |

au: street racer | athlete |

dom!reader

CW list alphabetized (not all these are but could potentially appear in the future)

cw A/B/O

cw blackmail

cw breath play

cw breeding

cw car sex

cw corruption kink

cw daddy kink

cw dumbification

cw exhibitionism

cw fear play

cw filming/photography

cw humiliation

cw hybrid

cw group

cw impact play

cw mommy kink

cw monsterfucking

cw overstimulation

cw pegging

cw pet play

cw public sex

cw poly relationship

cw size kink

cw squirting

cw somnophilia

cw threesome

cw virgin reader

cw virginity loss

cw voyeurism

TW list alphabetized (not all these are present on the blog but could potentially appear in the future)

tw belly bulge

tw blood

tw character death

tw cheating

tw cnc (consensual non-consent)

tw dark content

tw discourse

tw dubcon

tw drugs

tw drugging

tw flashing image

tw gore

tw guns

tw incest

tw kidnapping

tw mental health

tw mentions of death

tw murder

tw noncon

tw pregnancy

tw stalking

tw stepcest

tw toxic relationship

tw violence

tw yandere

[favoriteliar-archive]

Imagine if richie did a ton of research on the birds called tits just so he can talk to stan abt tits and laugh when he gets embarrassed,, like he knows it’s about the bird but Richie won’t stop saying tit every 5 seconds and people are giving weird looks

he WOULD!!!

he would just constantly, and as loudly as possible, ask stan what his favorite kind of tits are and be like “i like big tits! i like small tits! all tits are good tits!”

and stan just wants the earth to open up and swallow him whole