#smut scenarios

[mi-co-uk]

FIC RECS + P LINKS

──★

🎀: @delilahsturniolo

🎀: @st7rnioioss

🎀: @whor3ing

🎀: @sosasturns

🎀: @mattsmedusa

🎀: @v6nillaa

🎀: @oopsiedaisydeer

🎀: @sturnslutz

🧸: chris loves fingering

🧸: doggy with matt

🧸: chris loves to be close and watch ur facial expressions

🧸: morning sex with matt

🧸: chris is rough on the couch

──★ taglist:

@pair-of-pantaloons @oopsiedaisydeer @corspebridedelrey @faiyaz555 @izzylovesmatt @sturniolosrtewsexy @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @emely9274 @baebadoobee4ever @fw-lee @afr8idofrats @stvrniolotrxpl3ts @pr3ttylittleslutt @franticroads @m4gz-png @sosasturns @clairomatt @allisonclairee @mattshorsenecklace @whor3ing @matts-girlfriend @obsessedwiththesturniolos @shadowthesim237

[chrissssssmut]

Femboy Wonyoung smut?

TUTOR ME SENPAI... (But not in studying)

Femboy Wonyoung x Male Reader

AN: Last fic for this week! I need to sleep bc im so tired and i feel sick😴🤒

It all started with a failing grade. Not yours—Wonyoung’s.

You had always been an above-average student, excelling enough to be recommended as a tutor by your professor. When he first gave you Wonyoung’s name, you were confused. He wasn’t the type to struggle academically. In fact, Wonyoung had always been a top student—one of those effortlessly intelligent people who barely studied yet still managed to stay at the top of the class rankings.

So why did he need a tutor?

You didn’t question it at first. Maybe he had been slipping. Maybe his extracurricular activities were distracting him. Regardless, when he approached you after class, flashing that usual confident smirk, you agreed without hesitation.

That was your first mistake.

The first session was at your place. Wonyoung had insisted, claiming he “needed a quiet environment.” The moment he stepped into your room, though, you started suspecting that studying was the last thing on his mind.

Dressed in a loose off-the-shoulder sweater that barely covered his thighs and knee-high socks that hugged his long legs, Wonyoung looked like he had stepped out of some kind of dream. A dream that should’ve been far from reality but was now sitting cross-legged on your bed, twirling his pen between his fingers.

“So, senpai,” he purred, leaning forward, his sweater slipping just enough to expose a bit more collarbone than necessary. “What subject are we covering first?”

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to focus on the textbook in front of you. “Calculus. You said you needed help with integrals, right?”

“Hm,” Wonyoung hummed, tilting his head, pretending to think. “I do need help… but math is so boring, don’t you think? We could do something more fun.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Wonyoung, we’re here to study.”

“Oh? You’re so serious, senpai.” He giggled, scooting closer until his knee brushed against yours. “I like that about you.”

You exhaled slowly, forcing yourself to ignore the way his voice dipped into something more sultry. This was going to be a long night.

This pattern continued for weeks. Every study session, Wonyoung would find new ways to test your patience.

One day, he “accidentally” spilled water on his sweater, forcing him to peel it off and remain in nothing but a sheer tank top. Another time, he stretched so dramatically that his shirt rode up, exposing the smooth skin of his stomach. He even had the audacity to crawl onto your lap once, claiming it was “easier to see the equations from this angle.”

Every time, you resisted. Every time, you reminded yourself that this was just tutoring. Nothing more.

But Wonyoung wasn’t making it easy. In fact, he was making it very difficult.

It happened on a rainy evening. The storm outside raged against your window, the dim glow of your desk lamp casting shadows across your room. Wonyoung was beside you, closer than ever, his fingers trailing along the edge of your textbook instead of actually turning the pages.

“Senpai,” he whispered, voice barely above a breath. “Do you really not see it?”

You looked up, meeting his gaze. His usual playful smirk was gone, replaced with something more vulnerable. More dangerous.

“See what?”

“The way I look at you,” he murmured. His fingers found their way to your wrist, tracing slow, lazy circles against your skin. “The way I want you.”

Your pulse spiked. You tried to remain composed, but the weight of his words settled deep in your stomach, igniting something you had been trying to suppress for weeks.

“Wonyoung—”

“Don’t pretend you don’t feel it too,” he interrupted, shifting so that his face was mere inches from yours. “You keep pushing me away, but I know you want me.”

You swallowed hard, every rational thought in your head screaming at you to stop this before it went too far. But then Wonyoung leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Show me, senpai.”

And that was all it took for you to snap.

Your lips crashed against his before you could stop yourself, hands gripping his waist as he melted against you with a soft, pleased whimper. Wonyoung wasn’t passive—no, he kissed back with a hunger that had clearly been building for far too long. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, deeper, until your breaths were mingling into one.

“You’ve been driving me crazy,” you muttered against his lips, your hands wandering down, gripping the soft curve of his hips.

Wonyoung gasped, arching into your touch, his nails digging into your shoulders. “Then do something about it,” he challenged, voice breathy, teasing. “Or are you just going to keep holding back?”

Your patience snapped completely.

You lift Wonyoung onto the table, sending books and papers scattering to the floor as your lips crash against his. His hands wander boldly, fingers trailing down until they press against the growing bulge in your pants. He palms you through the fabric, teasing, stroking—his touch featherlight but enough to make you shudder.

A soft moan slips from your lips, and Wonyoung pulls back just enough to smirk, eyes dark with mischief. "So sensitive," he murmurs, his fingers applying a bit more pressure. "Have you been holding back this whole time?"

You grit your teeth, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but the way he’s looking at you—smug and knowing—makes it impossible. "Wonyoung, you’re playing a dangerous game."

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Then why don’t you punish me for it, senpai?"

You fumble with your belt, the metal clinking loudly in the quiet room as you shove your pants down in a rush. Wonyoung is already on his knees before you can even step out of them, eager hands tugging the fabric away. The moment you’re free, your cock bounces up, smacking against his cheek.

He blinks, momentarily stunned, before tilting his head with a playful grin. "Wow… you were really holding back, huh?"

Your breath is uneven as you watch him, heat pooling in your stomach at the way he licks his lips. "Wonyoung—"

He giggles, wrapping his fingers around you, stroking teasingly slow. "Don’t be shy, senpai. Let me take care of you."

Wonyoung bobs his head up and down, his warm mouth enveloping you as he takes his time, savoring every inch. The slick heat of his tongue sends shivers up your spine, and a deep moan escapes your lips before you can stop it.

"Fuck… you’re so good at this," you murmur, your fingers threading through his soft hair.

Hearing your praise, Wonyoung pulls back just enough to smirk up at you, eyes gleaming with mischief. He sticks out his tongue and lightly slaps the tip of your cock against it, teasing you with slow, deliberate taps.

"Hmm?" he hums, gaze locked onto yours. "You like that, senpai?"

You tighten your grip on his head, fingers tangling in his hair as you slowly push him down onto your length. Wonyoung gags, his throat tightening around you as a lewd, wet sound fills the room. His nails dig into your thighs, but he doesn’t pull away—if anything, he relaxes, letting you take control.

Saliva drips down from the corners of his mouth, trailing down his chin in messy strands, and his once-perfect makeup begins to smudge. His mascara streaks slightly under his dazed, glassy eyes, making him look even more intoxicating.

"That’s it," you murmur, voice low and breathless. "Taking it so well, Wonyoung."

Wonyoung grabs hold of your legs, his mouth still working you, taking you deeper with every move. Soft moans slip from your lips, each one louder and more desperate as he works you with precision. The feeling of his warmth and wetness has you losing control, and soon, you find yourself cursing under your breath at how perfect he’s making you feel.

After a moment, you pull him off, your chest heaving as you spin him around. He lands on his back, body arching against the table, his breathing ragged as he looks up at you, eyes wide with anticipation. You hover above him, gaze intense as you ask, “Are you ready for me?”

Wonyoung doesn’t need any more encouragement. “Please,” he breathes, voice thick with want. “I need you, senpai.”

Without hesitation, you push your cock inside him, the tight warmth almost overwhelming. A low groan escapes you as you grip his hair, pulling him closer. Your pace becomes rougher, faster, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the room as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment.

As I keep moving at my own pace, my hand wraps around his cock, beginning to stroke slowly. The sound he makes—a loud, desperate moan—slips from his lips. He gasps, his voice trembling, 'Please... don't stop... I need you.' His words break through the quiet, a desperate plea that makes everything feel even more intense.

Wonyoung glances back at me, his eyes pleading. His breath quickens as he nears his climax, and he whispers, 'Please... kiss me.' Without hesitation, I lean in, our lips meeting in a desperate kiss while my movements don’t slow. My other hand moves to stroke him in time with every push, and the heat between us builds to an unbearable intensity.

Within minutes, Wonyoung's release becomes inevitable, his body trembling as he lets go. A sharp, breathless moan escapes him, and I watch as it spills out of him. Without missing a beat, I reach down, gathering some of it in my hand, tasting him. His eyes flutter shut, a soft whimper escaping his lips. 'You... taste so good,' I murmur, my pace never faltering as I continue inside him, each movement drawing another moan from him. 'Don't stop,' he whispers, his voice barely more than a gasp.

You could feel it building, that sweet, inevitable release, so you gently told Wonyoung to kneel for you, the tension in the air thickening. As I stroked my length in front of his face, Wonyoung's voice was soft but laced with teasing, 'I know you're close... I can feel it.' He looked up at me with a mischievous smile, 'Go ahead, let go for me. You know you want to.' Her words were like a command, the way he said them speeding up my release. 'You like when I watch, don’t you? Can’t hold back any longer, can you?

‘Fuck,’ I gasped, my breath catching as Wonyoung continued to drive me crazy with his words. His lips were soft, biting gently, teasingly against my skin, and his eyes—those damn eyes—were locked on mine, full of desire and need. He licked his lips slowly, his voice a whisper, 'You’re so close... don’t fight it.' The way he said it, so sweet and demanding at the same time, sent shivers down my spine. ‘Let go for me,’ he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. 'I want to see it, want to feel it.' Each word he spoke, his gaze never leaving mine, made it harder to keep control. His hands were on me, his touch light, but enough to push me to the edge, his eyes begging for my release like he already knew it was inevitable.

My release came in waves, splattering all over Wonyoung’s gorgeous face. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as some of it dripped down his perfect skin—slowly making its way to his hair, his cheeks, his lips. A few drops even slid down his chest, glistening against his soft skin. He didn’t hesitate. His eyes, full of hunger, flickered up to mine as he licked his lips, savoring the remnants that lingered there. His fingers traced the droplets on his face before he brought them to his mouth. With a soft, almost teasing smile, he whispered, 'You taste even better than I imagined.' The words sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn’t look away from him, consumed by the way he made everything feel so intensely real, so intoxicating.

The rain had calmed by the time the two of you lay tangled in the sheets, the soft scent of him and the lingering warmth between your bodies mixing with the air. Wonyoung rested his head against your chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your skin, the rhythm almost soothing as the storm outside faded into a distant hum.

“So,” he murmured, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk. “Does this mean I finally pass tutoring?”

You chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair, feeling his body relax under your touch. “No. You still failed your last quiz.”

Wonyoung pouted dramatically, though there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that made it clear he wasn’t bothered in the least. “Guess that means more private lessons then, huh?”

You sighed, already knowing you were doomed. “Yeah… more lessons.”

But before you could get comfortable in your exhausted state, Wonyoung lifted his head, his eyes dark with an insistent hunger. “Well, if I’m getting more lessons, why don’t we make it... a little more interesting?” He slid a hand down your chest, his fingers brushing over the lines of your abs with a teasing touch. “I think I’m still hungry for a second round.”

Your heart skipped at the words, a surge of desire flooding through you, but before you could respond, Wonyoung’s lips were on yours again—slow, teasing, coaxing you into something far less innocent than you’d originally planned. The kiss deepened, a hungry heat igniting between you two as he ground his hips against yours, reminding you just how much he craved you.

This time, studying was the last thing on your mind.

[venusbyline]

Sleep ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 26, oct.

(late post) Prequel to Nine Moons

— pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x twin sister!reader

— type: smut, dark, Kinktober (House of the Dragon Edition)

— kink: creampie

— summary: Jacaerys was determined to make you his wife, forcing his mother to marry him to you, even against her will. Or against your will too.

— word count: 1.3k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 26th day, female!reader, dark!Jacaerys, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, creampie, Targcest (twin brother/twin sister), dubcon somnophilia, rape/non-con, vaginal sex, breast worship, butt worship, breeding kink, degradation, praise kink, corruption kink, loss of virginity, blood licking, squirting, cum eating, cum swallowing, dacryphilia, crying, watersports, doggy style position, minor Jacaerys Velaryon/Baela Targaryen, Referenced Targaryen/Velaryon Incest (cousins), implied/referenced cheating, underage sex, ambiguous/open ending, non-consensual drug use (herbal tea), drugged sex, forced orgasm, forced pregnancy, marriage of convenience mentioned, butt slapping, biting, hair-pulling, manipulation, sexism, possessive behavior, implied breastfeeding kink, implied lactation kink, implied pregnancy kink, innocent!reader, virgin!reader, dark content, sadism, dom!Jacaerys, sub!reader, canon divergence, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @baybaybear1 @blessedbymoon @p45510n4f4shi0n @lina-lovebug @moonnicole @badger-reads @dearjardim

— crossposting: AO3

— high valyrian words used: Idaña (twin), Hāedar (younger sister), Lēkia (older brother), Muña (mother).

Jacaerys was fed up with his mother's stubborn and boring behavior. Rhaenyra's refusal to break off his betrothal with Baela and refusing to let him marry you, his twin sister, was only making the fucking war even more stressful. As if the death of his little brother Lucerys was not enough, Jace still had to deal with Baela's constant interference against his angry thoughts and the fact that she did not understand why he hated these stupid Dragonseeds so much. It was easy for someone who was children of a Targaryen King Consort and a Velaryon princess to say he was being too arrogant or spoiled.

Either way, Jacaerys did not want a damn betrothed who was barely fit to support him during the outbursts. Even though she was extremely delightful and an excellent warrior, Jacaerys needed more. He needed a caring wife. And he knew you could play the role very well.

His anger towards Rhaenyra and Daemon was growing, to the point where he sometimes wished that his mother would actually recover her rightfully Iron Throne, but only because then he could rule the Seven Kingdoms soon.

He asked and even begged his mother to change the betrothal, explaining that the bond between the two of you had grown since Luke's murder and he needed you. Unfortunately, Rhaenyra remained a woman of her word, refusing to change the agreement.

Perhaps it was really a spoiled and cruel attitude on Jace's part, but he was determined to make you his wife, forcing his mother to marry him to you, even against her will. Or against your will too.

"Idaña, please..." Your whimper sounded too loud for both of your own good and Jacaerys whispered for you to moan lower, his large hand went straight to your mouth, sticking his index, middle and ring finger there to muffle the sounds that followed as he continued to slowly move his hips back and forth.

Each time he took himself out and put it back in, Jacaerys enjoyed the sight of his cock wet with your juices and also the blood of your innocence, as well as the sight of your voluptuous ass shaking when he fucked you a little rougher than before. He was trying his best to be careful with you, taking advantage of your drowsy dubious consent. Of course he did not want to hurt or scare his little twin sister in any way. He just wanted to left you filled with his seed, making your future heir growing in that soft womb.

"Shhh, Hāedar... You do not want to wake up our mommy, do you?" Jace murmured, pressing his bare sweaty chest against your white satin nightgown-covered back. He really wanted to rip that stupid fabric off and fuck his sister until you barely remember your own name. Until you beg for his cock. Until you were practically brainless. "Mother does not want me to marry you. But you want to marry me, do not you want to, my dear?"

Jace's question made you moan incoherent words around his hand, impossible for him to understand anything, so he took his three fingers out of your lips, wet with your spit and stuck them in your head, pulling your dark wavy hair just like his, despite the difference from length. You were like a reflection of him. The hair, the eyes, the nose... You were like a pure and innocent version of Jacaerys, the version he could never be. You were a true pure soul. You were everything he should have been and he was everything you could become.

He fucked you deeper, slapping your buttocks hard and making you scream softly, while he took the opportunity to pull your hair back, leaving your neck exposed to nibble and kiss. "Answer me, little sister. Do you want to marry me? Do you want to carry the future King or Queen of the Iron Throne inside your belly? Do you want me to turn you into a Muña?"

Perhaps it was your still slightly asleep state, perhaps it was how his cock was fucking you too fast and brutally for your virgin cunt to handle, or perhaps it was the special herbs that Jacaerys had put in your drink during dinner... But you just could not say no to him. You did not even want to say no. All that was going through yourself mind was that Jacaerys needed to keep doing what he was doing, even if it hurt so bad.

"Do you want me to breed you, sister? Beautiful little dark-haired babies sucking milk from your breasts while I sit on the Throne?" His question did not get a verbal response, however, Jace understand it as agreement due to the way your walls tightened around his member. "That is, that is my fucking good little girl... So innocent and obedient." Jace growled between moans, taking his hand out of your head and moving it to the softness of your clothed breast, squeezing roughly over the fabric. "You are taking me so well, Idaña. You are going to look so beautiful pregnant with our children. I am going to fuck my seed into you every year, I will never get tired of that warm and tight little cunt..."

You cried out and felt a sequence of slaps on your ass again, noises so loud that the entire castle was probably already hearing you two. "Lēkia... S-stop... I need to pee!" You suddenly screamed groggily when you felt your lower belly start to ache. You hoped Jacaerys would stop what he was doing and release you, but all he did was chuckle mockingly and grip your hips tighter. "PLEASE, JACE! Brother, please... I really need to pee right now!"

Even though you could not see Jacaerys' face because he was fucking you from behind, but you felt his breath in your ear, his teeth nibbling on your earlobe before he purred. "Then do it." He teased hornily. "I am your twin and some minutes older than you. Also, I am the one who will be the future King, so I am ordering you to do it."

Your eyes widened, coming out a little of your sudden trance and drowsy state when Jace continued holding your hip with one arm, but brought the other to your belly, pressing hard on the place where your bladder was. Tears began to fall desperately from your face and you struggled under your twin brother body, the hot liquid wetting the sheets and both of your legs and the Jace's too. "Well... I thought princesses and big girls did not piss on themselves. Now I guess I was wrong, you are a cute bedwetter, my dear. That was so horny."

The mockery turn everything more shameful and you sobbed, just crying when your cunt began to spasm intensely until you came, a clearer liquid splashing out before you fell face down on the pillow completely, your consciousness fading for a while after the orgasm and something else.

You did not know how long you were unconscious. Probably just for five or ten minutes. When your eyes opened with difficulty, you were still breathing heavily, your face pressed into your soft pillow, hearing Jacaerys growl and feeling him pull his cock out of you after his release, spreading your buttocks to enjoy the view of your bruised ass and reddish and sore cunt, full of cum and drops of your blood and wet with your own pee and your sudden squirt.

"Both of us will hope my seed catches as soon as possible. Right, Hāedar?"

You sniffled and nodded, not protesting when Jace pushed his finger into your sensitive hole and brought it to your lips, forcing you to lick up the disgusting mixture as he smirked, stroking your dark hair too. "My dear little sister. My true future betrothed and wife. You will be such a good mother." He placed a kiss on your shoulder, caressing your sore ass and laying down next to you, ignoring your confused and sleepy cries. "Seven Hells, do not be pathetically dramatic. Just go back to sleep, dear sister. Go back to sleep and then we can rule Westeros together very soon, I promise this to you. Nothing will separate us, not even Mother, Daemon or Baela. Not even you."

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[cherryredstars]

Filler post but…

Deprived boyfriend who’s just so enamored by you.

NSFW, 18+, Fingering, Oral & Penetrative Sex

He can spend hours between your legs, fingers teasing and rubbing against that pretty pearl that twitches for attention. His heavy breathing warming your soft skin as his pupils dilate. Your poor, deprived man who just wants you to feel so good and looks up at you with those crazed eyes that scream for your praise.

His whimpers vibrate against your cunt as he tries to pull your own noises out of your plump lips. Eyes half-lidded as he slurps and drowns himself in your thick scent and sugary juices. Tongue exploring every inch of your folds, growling against your fluttery walls when you try to push his head away. His teeth threatening to nip at your fingertips when you try to toy with your own clit, greedy to be the only source of your pleasure.

Can’t even rip him off of you when he sinks into your burning heat, drool slathered across the junction of your neck as he humps you like a dirty dog. His hips sloppy and bruising every time you moan or whimper out that praises he runs circles around for. Every small gasp of how full you feel or every screech about how deep he is goes straight to that caveman part of his brain that drives his dick. Doesn’t care that he’s twitching and he’s about to collapse on top of you, he’ll pump release after release into your gaping hole. Even if his ears are ringing and tears are falling down his face from his own overstimulation, he’ll still find the energy to grind his soft cock against your walls until he passes out.

[2-dsimp]

question stemming from the Temothy milking post:

If it takes that long to get pre jizz out to get to actual 'milk', when you have sex would he just fill you with pre jizz before you even get anywhere??? LMAOOO

...but also, that's kinda scary, how filled would darling be by the time he's done? would he even pull out before sleeping? does he even sleep???? i looked it up (pls dont ask) and bulls' heat can last between 12-24 HOURS?????

ummm I love temothy but umm *eyeing the door* I'm gonna just- *runs*

MDNI NSFW bull hybrid x fem reader, cum inflation, cockwarming, knotting, heat cycle, cock warming, creampie,

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

Imagine a big hand pushing down gently upon your distended belly full of pre seminal fluids. Your stud gulped audibly, from seeing the milky stream bubbling out from your gaping cunt. “You’re doing so good, deep breaths until you’re emptied out okay? I need to make room inside that cute belly for my actual seed.” He’d coo softly, lapping at the his own precum lining up your slit relishing the taste of your mixed juices.

After your tummy was flat and primed to take his giant bull cock once more. Temothy slid his imposing meat deep inside your folds. His fat tip French kissing your abused cervix. Swollen balls slapping meanly upon your clit. Gripping tenderly at your love handles, his hips would slam harshly against the your rounded asscheeks. Impatient to nut inside you.

With a body racking shudder, your assistant is mooing. Every pulse from his veiny shaft. Meant another torrent of heavy cream filling up your womb like a gas tank. The poor stud cummed his brains out so hard that he passed out in ecstasy. Leaving you stranded on his still hard length, forcing you to be his honorary cum rag. Having you dutifully soak up his uncontrollable spurts of semen throughout the night.

[insomniadreamzz]

Imma go combine two requests in that one.

Request 1: i was thinking if you could write something like jinx using her shimmer speed for fucking?

Request 2: If you still take requests, and when you get a chance, could you do a G!P Jinx x fem reader? The scenario I was picturing was that they are cuddling with the reader in Jinx's lap, and the reader is sort of grinding against her as they try and reposition themselves. And they're unaware of what it's doing to Jinx and eventually Jinx has enough and and fucks the reader right then and there.

———

My good girl

Mentions of G!P, smut, rough sex, overstimulation, blowjob, bratty Reader, dom!Jinx

You finally got Jinx away from her work bench, cuddling for a while now, you straddling her lap while your head rested in the crook of her neck. You loved cuddling with her, inhaling her beautiful scent. In moments like this even Jinx was calm, not being her usual bubbly self. The only thing that you could hear was her calm breathing and feeling her hand caress up and down your back. Jinx showing affection like this is a rare thing so you enjoyed every second.

„I love you.“ You whispered, your breath tickling her a little, she pressed a kiss on your forehead. „I love you too.“ You loved hearing her say that, slightly shifting on her lap to reposition yourself a little, feeling how Jinx‘s body tensed up but she didn’t say anything yet. You did move again, your crotch grinding against hers and you leaned up to have a better view of her now, you could see her cheeks being flushed red and her expression showing a little bit of weakness. You didn’t think about anything not innocent so you didn’t really understand why she looked at you like this.

„What? You okay?“ You giggle innocently, placing a soft kiss on her lips, as you do so you shifted again. „Ngh…fine that’s enough.“ Jinx groaned as she flipped you over, now being on top of you as she pushed you into the mattress. „Don’t you think I noticed this?“ She grumbled as her hands pinned yours down, she was being serious but you still didn’t get it. „Noticed what? We were cuddling.“ You mentioned and she let out a little sigh before pressing her clothed crotch against yours, making you feel her bulge.

Your cheeks instantly heat up, surprised by her getting excited so fast. „I-…I didn’t think you would get that hard because of a little shifting.“ Your words made her grunt, rolling her eyes annoyed. „Yea sure. You grind against me and think I won’t get hard? Nice try love, I am gonna give you what you deserve for lying to me. You know I hate being lied on.“

Even though you didn’t lie at all to her and just wanted a innocent moment with her without thinking about your own movements and what they would cause, you felt excited to see what she will do to you so you just played along with her. Telling her you didn’t do it on purpose won’t work on Jinx anyways if she is stuck in her own mindset. That’s what you learned about her very fast.

„Mhh…so you wanna put your little brat in her place?“ You just went along with the little game, not knowing what it would cause. „So? You’re so confident aren’t you? Let me fuck that confidence out of you then.“ She said with a husky voice, sitting up to remove her pants to let her hard cock free. Before you could react she grabbed you by your hair, making you sit up and shoved her cock inside of your mouth. „That’s it…use that bratty mouth on me.“ Jinx groaned as she moved her hips, letting her cock slide down your throat, making you gag a little bit on it. You tried your best to please her, letting her go all in and as fast as she wanted, your tongue swirling around her cock, hands placed on her hips to keep you up.

When she had the feeling she shut you up enough, only hearing your muffled moans and looking into your teary eyes, she decided to pull on your hair as she made you lean back a little, her cock and your mouth being connected by a string of your saliva as you looked at her beautiful pink eyes glowing of excitement. „That’s my good girl…I am not planning on giving you the pleasure to swallow it this time. I‘d rather want to make a mess out if you. Brats do deserve that.“ Her smirk was very evil, you knew that look on her face. She really meant what she said.

Jinx removed your pants and panties as well along with your shirt, wanting to have you fully exposed to her, smirking playfully as she gazed down at you, spreading your legs to see you being dripping wet for her. Your own hands move to your breasts, wanting to touch yourself but Jinx didn’t like that idea, giving you a little slap on your wet pussy which made you whine out loudly, whimpering after. „No touching. I am gonna touch you, your hands better stay away if you don’t want me to slap you again.“ She commanded you before adjusting herself properly between your legs, moving her cock inside of you deeply without a warning, making you moan out. „Ah! Fuck Jinx!“

Jinx only smirked playfully at your reaction. „Didn’t I tell you I will fuck the brat out of you?“ She didn’t wait for you to get used to her size as she started thrusting her hips inside of you, both of you ending up being a moaning mess, your tummy making a little bulge each time she thrusted into you made her know she was just hitting the right spot. Her eyes started glowing a lot again, a sign that showed whenever she used her shimmer which made her thrust into you in a inhuman speed, making you moan uncontrollably as your legs clenched around her, reaching your orgasm as your juices spilled all over her cock.

Jinx didn’t think of stopping yet, throwing her head back as she moaned out loudly, little strings of pink light following her eyds as she moved her head back. „J-Jinx! Stop!…I-I can’t-…ahh!“ You try to beg her to stop feeling overstimulated, not even able to form proper words, your whimpering moans cutting of your words. Jinx loved everything about this, looking down at you with such a needy gaze, you were wondering how she could keep herself from cumming.

„Naw…I am sure you can baby. You are my good girl. You can take it.“ She encouraged you, still pounding into you hard and fast, filling up the room with lewd wet sounds. Your juices helping her to slide in even more easier. „Hnng! You are so good for me, taking my punishment so good huh? Yes that’s it, good girl, my good girl.“ She groaned in between her moaning, biting her lower lip, a sign she was close and so were you, cumming again with a whine, your legs trembling underneath her, arching your back, tears of pleasure running down your eyes and finally Jinx reached her high as well, pulling out to cum on your lower tummy, making a mess out of you. „God…so sexy for me…“ She mumbled under her breath, jerking herself off on you before she leaned down, running her tongue along your wet folds, tasting your juices mixed together, feeling you twitch when her tongue reached your clit.

Jinx was satisfied for now, seeing you all done as you are still not ready to form words, being out of breath. „Next time don’t be so bratty and I will cum inside you instead~“ She said with her usual playful voice like she didn’t just dominate you and fucked you breathless.

She positioned herself back beside you, pulling you close to her chest as she began to be her soft, loving self again towards you, whispering so softly to you. „You’re mine, remember that.“ You just nod, feeling your body already feeling sore and she knew that, keeping you close to her until you both eventually fall asleep in each others arms.

[3-dsimp]

Could you do a drider breeding fic? Creampie and eggs. Size kink is a musttt. Maybe a bnha character? Whatever character you choose is cool just none of the villans pls. Btw your fics just ajrjdkndjekdndosn💖

A/n: I ended up doing a general smut Drabble hope that’s okay and thx you! (>^ω^<)

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Cw: 🔞NSFW MDNI🔞Fem reader! + Drider Male! breeding, tummy bulge, praise, overstimulation, eggs, size kink, pussydrunk, rough sex, cum inflation, creampie.

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Imagine him grinning widely as he ruthlessly slams you up and down onto his engorged cock. His muscles flexing with each movement while he relishes in your wetness gushing around him.

"Oh you’re such a good girl, taking my dick like a world champ I’m so proud you sweetheart~"

The man praised, whilst sticking his tongue out like a dog. A pussydrunk look apparent on his haggard features. While You were fucked out of your mind, completely full to the brim from his previous thick goopy loads of his sperm. Which leaked past his dick that served to be a temporary plug to keep all his spend inside of your flooded womb.

"Damn I can’t get enough of this sweet pussy she’s so tight, so perfect Princess. I could fuck you all night long and still not get my fix."

A low heated chuckle escaped his lips as he felt up your rounded belly. Which was sloshing with his eggs and cum of which he meanly crammed into you. Despite your whines of discomfort, he couldn’t resist bullying every inch of his pulsating meat inside your quivering quim. The telltale of his balls twitching against your ass for the fourth time in a row. Made your cunt clench pathetically around his throbbing shaft.

"Shh baby it’s okay I know how you love getting stuffed full of my cock. Daddy’s gonna give you one more load so make sure not to spill any of it mkay?"

He purred nipping at your nape as his hips continues to pump into you, his massive dick filling you up completely as he uses you like a fleshlight for his own pleasure. Your bodies moved together in a primal dance, lost in the moment. The only sounds were your collective harsh breathing and the wet slaps of flesh against flesh.

"Fuck yes! That's it, Take it all. Take everything I have to give. Mmh you’re such a good girl. Shit this pussy is to die for~"

He moaned in a breathy hiss as he manhandled you into a mating press and began to move savagely, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into you with a satisfying wet smack. Your walls clenched around him, milking his spurting penis for all he was worth.

[ast4tarion]

todays unhinged thought: dry humping. making a boy cum his pants from your grinding alone. Maybe he’s inexperienced or just very sensitive, maybe it’s his first time, but you’ve got that pretty bulge in his pants trapped right up against your hips when you sit in his lap facing him. Maybe it started off as just innocent kissing, but you brushed up against his bulge trying to readjust your position and suddenly he’s grabbing you and pulling you close enough to grind on it. You’re humping messy, no coordination as the two of you desperately stroke and grind and bump against each other. You feel his cock twitching from inside his pants, begging to be jacked off and get some proper release. You’re just teasing him, figuring rubbing fabric will just get him riled up, that’s it. His grasp on your hips gets tighter and tighter and his little whines and moans slip faster and faster into your mouth when you kiss and suddenly he very abruptly stops. He lets out a low whine and his entire face is flushed bright red and it takes you a couple seconds to put together what happened until you see the dark patch forming on the front of his pants. He came a fat sticky load in his boxers from just you grinding on him alone. You coo at him, teasing him as he hides his face in embarrassment. The best part is when you unzip his pants and pull him out of his boxers he’s still rock hard and covered in his own sticky seed, even more sensitive to each and every one of your touches.

[awordsmith]

omitted thoughts 𝜗𝜚 s.r

۶ৎ in which the tension between you and Spencer at work is almost too much to bare; lingering eyes and longing needs that are ignorant to the people around you, but all too easily perceived by the other.

who? spencer x bau!reader  when? s8  genre: smut  content warnings: (maeve plotline does not exist, emily is still with the bau) munch spencer, tension here–tension there–tension everywhere, thorough foreplay (as in practically the entire fic), sexual acts, not too explicit, no dom/sub really mentioned–though spencer is a little more confident, proofed! reid with pleasure...  word count: 11.4k a/n: munch spencer as per requested by an anon!! this one has been in my filing cabinet for a while, so i'm glad i've finally gotten to write it out... also, new format–hey! okay i'll stop rambling... enjoy!!

There is a moment in every person’s life when they just know something sinister is about to unfold. That feeling found its way to you the exact moment the mixup with the rooms happened. It was bound to occur, it wasn’t like it was inevitable–you of all people were accustomed. Though, to be particularly truthful, it wasn’t the mixup that strangled your thoughts, no, it wasn’t as trivial as that.

What had your heart racing–your mind running–was that you were paired with Spencer. You should have said something. You were sure Emily would switch with you in a heartbeat–she and Spencer got along well enough, that it wouldn’t be a favor at all. However, even with this knowledge, you kept your mouth shut.

It was something in your gut, something in the darkest parts of your mind that swayed the moral, logical side.

It was late and the dimly lit hall only had so much life. You noted the old, peeling, pee-colored wallpaper; red flowers straying to and fro–if you tried hard enough, you could almost picture how it must have looked like in its prime.

Spencer made no effort to talk and for this you were grateful. You hadn’t had the chance to get too close to him in the few months you’ve been with the team. You were new, but not unaccustomed–you had been transferred almost six months ago with the help of thorough recommendations and pure skill–though you never pulled rank.

Hotch seemed a nice enough dad-boss, Rossi gave the impression of a comedic uncle most of the time, Morgan took his role as the older brother, Emily and JJ were great mentors and you were thrilled to be working alongside them, and you found Penelope to be a strong aunt-like figure. Spencer, though, you weren’t too sure where he fell in the categories you had enlisted just yet. 

He was a great mystery, one you were keen to unravel little by little.

“Do you have a preferred side?” Spencer asked after completing a skim with his bedbug flashlight.

“No,” you glanced around the room, two queen beds sat adjacent to each other only separated by a mediocre bedside table. A home phone sat close to the bed nearest the door and a lamp sat closest to the bed nearest the AC and window. The old, red velvet curtains were pulled back in what you thought was meant to be a kind gesture. Nevertheless, for an unknown reason, it left a bad taste in your mouth. “But, I do think we should close those,” you sighed, setting your duffle bag in the only chair in the room.

Spencer set his things on the bed near the window. You began untying the curtain closest to the bathroom. A shiver crawled up your spine as the air around you grew dry, you were seriously hoping for hot water. You meant to throw Spencer a hopeful glance, praying he’d let you take a shower first–but your eyes caught his hands instead. He was working his sleeves back, unbuttoning them as quickly as he could.

His sweater vest had been discarded and now lay in a bunched-up pile near his suitcase. You found yourself tracking his every move. He didn’t take notice of your stare until after he’d untied the curtain and met it with the one you had undid. You swiftly averted your eyes and swallowed, finding your throat had gone dry.

You cleared your throat and pushed your hair away, giving Spencer nothing but back, “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to shower first.”

Seconds ticked by and he said nothing, only when you heard a bed squeak did you turn back around. Spencer took up a space at the head of his bed, watching you with a look you were sure you’d never seen cross his face, it was almost smug, but not in the normal sense of the word–as indescribable as it was, it didn’t make you uncomfortable. You weren’t too sure what it made you feel.

“Is–is that a yes?” Your face felt hot, and you wanted to slap your hands to it, knowing it’d cool down somewhat, but you forced your hands to remain at your side.

“Yeah, sure,” he quipped, his voice the complete opposite of what his eyes conveyed.

You nodded and hurried over to your bag, leaving it at the foot of your bed when heading into the bathroom, which is where you found it upon exiting. 

Spencer had pulled pajamas out, they were neatly folded beside him. “I’d wait a little before showering,” you frowned, “sorry, I must have been in there for ages,” your mouth lilted in a slight smile as you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear and took up residence near the bedside table, “next time, just to tell me I’m taking too long, I won’t mind.”

He chuckled and you grinned, elated you finally were able to ease the unnecessary tension that had come over the two of you during your staring contest in the moments right before your shower.

“Seriously?” He sounded mirthful and when you looked up his eyes caught yours, your heart studded and you found your cheeks heating up again. He had an eyebrow raised slightly and the small smile that accompanied his expression gave off the impression he was teasing, “You’d be fine with me just walking into the bathroom while you’re in the shower?”

Your eyebrows scrunched together in slight confusion and you couldn’t help the awkward smile that wouldn’t leave your mouth, “I was just joking, Spencer, but–if I am taking too long you can bang on or yell through the door.

He nodded, looking away, “I–I know, I was just messing with you.”

“Oh, please,” you snorted and rolled your eyes, trying to crush the way your thoughts raced at the way you absolutely would not give a half a damn if he did. You pressed your hand to your cheeks for a few seconds before continuing to move things out of your bag, you were thinking about how to arrange them in the large chifforobe directly across from your bed. Did Spencer hav–you gasped and dropped an article of clothing as if it had burned you.

“That was not–” you scorned yourself, that was completely inappropriate. You blinked over a few times, thinking it would make the image disappear well from your mind, but it only served to intensify the phantasmagoria.

“Hey, are you okay?” Spencer was at your side after three blinks. Your eyes widened as he reached for your hands that were opening and closing, trying to grasp any control over yourself. 

You stood abruptly, unable to be in any sort of vicinity he was near. “I’m fine–I just, I remembered, I forgot something in the lobby. It must have fallen.” You shrugged, forcing a horrid excuse for a smile onto your lips. You left the room, heading straight for the elevator. You needed the cold-biting air of December to slap some sense into you, it was almost January, thus winter should have been approaching its peak right about now.

You have never–okay, yes, you’ve had small torrent thoughts of coworkers in somewhat unprofessional manners, but none had ever been so vivid–not like the one you had just then. As the elevator opened, you tried assembling the course of thoughts that had led up to the–the Spencer one.

It only took a few minutes for you to understand thinking about it was useless. There was no coherent explanation for the thought you had, no indication of any type of build-up that might have prepared you for the fabrication. 

“His eyes,” you heard yourself murmur as the elevator let you off onto the first floor. You ignored the receptionist whom you recognized from only a few hours ago. The glass door was as easily pushed open as it was to pull; the biting air hit your face and you sighed, relief allowing you to breathe once more.

His sleeves were rolled up, your arms laced around his neck as you pulled him against your flushed, exposed skin. You were nearly naked and all but begging him. You had it. His attention. Every single piece of it.

And you were relishing it as he fucked you against that damned chifforobe.

You were startled by the discovery of Spencer’s presence as he pushed open one of the glass doors of the hotel. The carpark was desolate save for the two of you and you felt more vulnerable than you had felt in the daydream.

“Hey,” Spencer lifted his hand slightly, sticking it back in his pocket right after as if he’d cringed at himself.

“Oh, hi,” you pressed your lips into a thin smile, squeezing your eyes so as not to give away the fact that you did not want him to be there.

“You–kind of ran off, I just wanted to make sure you were alright…” his eyes traced up and down your body as if in search of something. A slight smirk grazed his lips, but it was quickly replaced with a frown that felt a little too compelled, “did you find what you were looking for?”

“Nope,” you squeaked, rocking back and forth on your heels. You squeezed your hands together behind your back like you were in prayer or giving thanks, “sorry for bringing you out here, I thought I lost something important and overreacted.”

He didn’t acknowledge your answer immediately, though he did step forward and when he took another step forward, you were inclined to take a step back because you thought the proximity might prompt you to do or say something you definitely shouldn’t be doing or saying with a coworker. He raised his hand to your face, the back of his hand rested on one of your cheeks, your eyes shut on impact, your hands separated and were not fisted.

Your eyes opened when a few low chuckles escaped Spencer’s mouth, he huffed out a few more before pulling his hand back and using it to cover his mouth…watching you. His eyes held that same smug amusement that you’re sure you’ve never seen before this night.

You met his stare, noting that with the coverage of his hand, his expression was just a bit easier to read. Your lips settled into a thin line as you concluded he was messing with you. You cast an unbothered expression over your face, though you felt anything but. “I think the water should be hot enough now.”

Disregarding the moral obligation of waiting for a response, you headed for the hotel’s entrance.

The elevator ride-up wasn’t as tense as you would have thought it to be. You could feel a calm rest over each other’s company. It was almost like a mutual understanding that did not need voicing. Back in the hotel room, Spencer headed into the bathroom without a word, again, you found yourself grateful he decided to spare you.

Even so, you did find it just a bit peculiar because Spencer had never before taken on any particular interest in you, sure you shared conversations–that was to be expected though, as you worked with him. You shared meals and nights out, though only when it was a group thing.

To be sure he drew your curiosity, but you never once thought about indulging in your secret desire because it just never seemed right. This mixup had felt like a gift from God when it was first introduced, because now–you had thought–we’ll be forced to be around each other, no doubt we’ll grow somewhat accustomed to each other’s habits. 

Perhaps the thought was a bit excessive, but it was simply the truth to you. How else were you to casually approach Dr. Spencer Reid? The youngest to be scouted in his field?

Well, you now thought grimly, scratch all that, he’s just a genius with an ego.

You approached the chifforobe hesitantly, then hastily sorted your clothing in a few drawers and on a few hangers that were already there. As you set your duffle bag at the bottom of the large space, you heard the shower squeak off and Spencer called your name.

You rolled your eyes but walked toward the bathroom, calling from your side of the closed door, “what?” 

“I,” his voice cut off and just when you thought you had waited long enough, the bathroom door swung open halfway and Spencer leaned out. 

The first thing you noticed–though unintentionally–was the steam that hit you in the face. You squinted and waved a hand before you, “Jeez, Spencer.”

His face–his hair was wet and water dripped down his head–looked a bit painted, “I left my towel in my bag, get it for me?” 

He sounded genuinely displeased at the situation, which is why you huffed and replied, “Fine.”

“Thank you,” he yelled, shutting the door again. You ignored the flip your stomach did and shivered. 

He had left his suitcase open, his things in a bit of disarray across the bed. You wavered only a moment before letting your hands fly up and down his things. His towel was quite easily discovered, though your eyes lingered on the rest of his things.

You stood and headed back toward the bathroom, knocking. Spencer appeared instantly, a smile spreading to his face. The steam had cooled somewhat, but the bathroom–you could tell–was still very much sauna-like. “Thank you.”

“You said that already.”

He raised a brow, his smile quirking, “thank you, again.”

He stole the towel and shut the door, leaving you standing there. You felt impulsive and thought there would be no way you could get through this entire trip by sharing a room with him. And yet, it was your job, and it would no doubt be questioned, you’d probably–by accident–allude to something that did not occur, and you’d both be in trouble for something so ridiculous: it shouldn’t even be a thought that crossed your mind when you looked at your coworker and yet–the bathroom door opened and Spencer walked out in only a towel–it did.

“What do you think you're doing?” You called from your bed, standing.

“It’s too moist in there, I won’t dry.” He replied as if it were a fact and not an atrocity.

“Yeah–but–” you bit your lip, eyes tracking up and down his torso, something you should most unquestionably not be doing.

He was bent over his things on the bed near the window, you turned your gaze on the floor when his eyes flickered to yours. “But what?” He paused, probably noting your expression, your pursed lips, and your unstill gaze. “I mean, if it makes you uncomfortable I can go back in. I don’t want to–I’m sorry.” You swore you could hear a lilt in his voice when he began, but it quickly turned into something more…appropriate–like he just realized the embarrassment of what he was doing. He gathered his clothes again and headed for the bathroom, returning a few minutes later in damp garments.

And though his frown said ‘I’m sorry,’ his eyes said, ‘I’m going to give you hell’. And hell it was. For the rest of the trip, you could swear Spencer did…things purposefully. Such as lifting his shirt slightly to wipe his face when he got out of the shower, turning his neck just barely so that your gaze would catch on the exposed collarbone. You swore up and down that these were being done on purpose just to make you squirm because–because–well you didn’t really know why Spencer was doing all that. 

But you knew it was for you, that was about the only thing you knew to be fact. Your nose scrunched as you recalled the looks he’d given you after every purposeful act–in such a way that it seemed like he wanted to see your reaction–as if he gets off on it.

The jet ride home was no exception to Spencer’s antics, but by this time you had decided for yourself you’d had enough of falling victim to him. You concluded that there could only be one reason Spencer was acting the way he was: because he was attracted to you. You didn’t know why–hell you couldn’t even explain why you were attracted to him in that way–but it piqued your curiosity. If he had the ability to get you to react in such distinct and significant ways, what power did you have over him? That was the dispute you set out to ascertain.

At first, it was harmless, quiet jokes told only loud enough for the two of you to hear. When the jet landed again, you ran a hand through your hair and threw your head back, as if trying to stretch. Your eyes popped open just a few minutes later to find Spencer’s eyes eating up everything from your neck to your collarbone. When he met your eyes, they weren’t amused but rather accusing. He had fallen into your trap and he had just now realised. Some genius, you found yourself regarding him with an internal snort.

“We get the day off tomorrow, right?” Emily’s tone was mirthful, full of sarcasm.

“Yeah, right.” Morgan groaned.

Hotch grimaced, “See you all tomorrow.”

“At nine?” Rossi sounded hopeful.

Your boss sighed, eyes: rolling, but a smile etching itself onto his face, “At nine.”

Small victories, a sigh escaped you under your breath, small victories.

You headed for your car, rummaging through your purse for your keys. A presence loomed over you and you froze, Spencer’s hand lightly pressed against your back as he leaned over you and tilted his head downward, “See you tomorrow —…”

Your breath caught and you tried to swallow, but your mouth was dry. Was this real? Was this not the nerdy little geek you were told you’d be working with? The guy who kept getting kidnapped? The one who could barely hold a gun four years into working in the BAU?

He walked away, down the row of cars, looking for the one he owned.

Despite yourself, your lips curled into a sinful grin. You already loved this game. 

The next morning, you caught Spencer stepping into the elevator, “hold the door!” You threw your hand out, as you rushed your footsteps.

The elevator wasn’t crowded, but there were five others you did not know, and they were all men, so naturally you moved closer to Spencer. It wasn’t on purpose, but nor was it an accident, more of an instinct. His presence gave you peace of mind as you calmed yourself down.

“Rough morning?” He asked, appearing nonchalant.

You looked up at him as he took a sip of his coffee. The elevator came to a halt and two people shuffled into the elevator after three others left. Your floor was approaching and you felt easier–especially with the extra space–but when you stepped away, a hand caught your waist.

You followed the arm all the way to Spencer’s gaze, the expression there looked to be a mix of contemplation and confusion. His hand dropped when the elevator dinged and the doors opened. He was the first to step out of the elevator, you were the fourth.

Penelope found you on her way to the roundtable, stating the others were already there. You followed her and took the only available seat in between Morgan and JJ. Spencer sat right across from you, between Emily and Rossi. When you caught his eyes, his head tilted slightly and a small smirk danced across his lips in the bright light. 

Your eyes rolled and you shifted one leg over the other under the table. 

Penelope read off the new case and while many questions were thrown out, you and Spencer kept playing the game of ‘who could make who more embarrassed’; though you both were incredibly refined at your job and were able to keep it from the insight of the others.

Hotch stood and said, “jet’s up in 15,” before rushing out of the room.

You stood as well, needing to collect all the things you might have left on your desk and turn in your report to Hotch you forgot. Rossi had followed your boss–it was probably something about Strauss, it always was whenever they acted like that. Emily, Morgan, and Penelope were having a conversation while JJ said something to Spencer and began a small exchanges. Your eyes were laser focused on her, you felt a sort of conviction fall over you. You didn’t think you were jealous, no–it was anything like that because you knew Spencer was only trying to get under your skin. Instead, you felt a sense of thrill and couldn’t help the smirk that edged its way onto your face as you floated right past them without batting an eye.

You heard his chair squeak as he leaned back, eyes trailing your figure as you exited the roundtable room. Upon approaching your desk you smacked your hands to your cheeks, helping them cool off while ignoring the chatter of the office. You searched your bag a bit until you found the documents you had been looking for.

You froze, you could feel his stare, but when you glanced around, you couldn’t find him anywhere. Your eyes narrowed as you sifted through each and every face, there–in the breakroom behind the glass… Spencer had one hand in his pocket and one holding a mug of coffee, his eyes anything but innocent. He mouthed something, but only when you noted the absense of your other team members were you able to put together his words. We’re leaving.

You met each other in the stairwell of the rooftop, you ignored the simmering in your chest as he veered over you and pushed open the door. He smelled good– god he smelled good. You forced yourself not the make it obvious you were trying to drink in and savor his scent when he let out a shuddering breath. Your eyes popped open–which is when you realized you had shut them. What is wrong with me? You allowed your eyes to track up his face, starting from his shoulders.

He was so close you could see him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing as he stared you donw, mouth slightly ajar. His eyes were hazy and he wasn’t staring at you, but your throat. It was only for a few seconds, but it felt like hours. When he found your gaze again his jaw yet and he pulled himself together. His eyes were no longer dangerous, but they still set some kind of fear in you.

“We should go,” you murmured.

He didn’t respond until you began moving. He called your name only once, but when you looked back, a grin–small, but fucking there–destroyed his firm calmness from only moments ago, and replaced it with egotistical destruction.

There were so much said in that single expression and yet nothing at all that would have been picked up by a team of profilers, let alone a stranger–it was as if this look was designed specifically for you–designed just to become your undoing. You fucking hated Spencer Reid and his big ass ego, but you wanted him–by all hell you wanted him.

Though you’d soon find that wanting him was nothing compared to needing him.

The rest of the case came and went in a similar manner you had dreamt about the night before. You and Spencer shared lingering looks, murmured things in front of the team that, though made sense in the moment, his the underlying meaning only the two of you could pick up. You honestly found it surprising no one had caught on to what was transpiring between you and Spencer, although to be perfectly honest, you, yourself, had no idea what was transpiring between you and Spencer.

You didn’t seek each other out, but whenever you were together–alone or with others–there was this spark of craving you couldn’t quite explain out loud, and even when you thought about it, you didn’t know the right term for it other than a game. What else could it be? You couldn’t relly put togehter the events that had started it, but you knew it began sometimes on the 3-day case–maybe even that first night in the hotel. A shiver crawled up your spine, you watched Spencer out of the corner of your eye, reading. He could normally be found in the front of the jet, lying down and napping or reading.

When you were alone, all your thoughts revolved if not around the case at hand, Spencer. You didn’t want to compare it to an obsession, because what it really was was a little less of that and a little more of a desire to learn him. His body, his mind, his cravings and and fantasies. It was everything you had never felt and it scared you. There was no logical explanation to Spencer being the onset to these emotions, and yet if you’d never met Spencer, who was to say these feelings would have ever been unleashed?

It was late, but you were glad you were going to get to sleep in your bed two nights in a row. It felt like a blessing from the heavens, but then your realzied you’d have to see Spencer again tomorrow and go through the fervency all over again. Now, it felt more like irony.

Weeks of the same longing, the same wandering eyes, the same muttered whispers, the same damn game. Though you’d gotten used to your little gambit of brash actions, you weren’t tired in the least. It was–as sad as you had to admit–the most fun you’d ever had with a person.

It was fun until it became real. The team hadn’t caught on, but that was particularly due to the fact your efforts always occurred out of pure chance. You never made it obvious and he was especially good at hiding his feats, it seemed to you he was consistently able to accomplish his devious acts right under the nose of his superiors. 

You reasoned that it was perhaps because none of them would ever suspect him of any of the things he was taking up in his pastime. Not even yourself would have guessed he was like this if he hadn’t shown you, or if you hadn’t noticed the way his eyes always seemed to look the opposite of whatever his face was saying in the moment.

Despite all of this, however, you hadn’t touched–at all, no brush of the hands, no accidental shoulder bumping, nor anything on purpose; not since he’d grabbed your waist in the elevator that first day back at Quantico. The contemplation in his eyes then occurred to you at night. You tried to make out what it meant–to him at least, but never could. It was one of those thoughts that kept you up, staring at the ceiling, hoping exhaustion would so its job and prevent the misery that inveitable came without it.

Tonight, though, you didn’t know how you were going to fare against pretending to be with him. It was for the case–you kept reminding yourself as you changed into a little black dress. Everyone looked good in black, it was a color that also hid a person well enough in a club–perfect for an undercover agent.

The decision to have you go in with Spencer instead of JJ was his idea. Of course it was his. He’d proposed the switchup at the roundtable meeting that morning–and as soon as he had, you’d jolted in your seat. He’d continued talking, glancing at you now and then as if he’d actually believed the difference between you and JJ would matter.

Regardless, because you were closer in age–by only a few years, you’d wanted to remind everyone–it’d be more believable that you were together, he’d also dropped an “it’d be more comfortable that way”, which swayed Morgan and Emily, JJ kept silent during the entire tirade–though not angry, was incredibly, almost blatantly long. 

You couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but at the time you weren’t too much focussed on her, the looming fact that you’d have to touch him in ways you’d only thought about touching him to do your job? It terrified you. Not because you were afraid of acting out your fantasy–but because you weren’t sure if you could control yourself enoug to where it was just acting.

You slipped the dainty dress on and hid your gun and badge in your boots. You let your natural hair fall loose, but kept a hair tie on your wrist. Stepping out of the only bathroom in the police station you were currently residing in, holding your work clothes against your chest , you noted the imminent stares. Instinctively using your clothing to cover your thighs as you met the others in the front. Spencer kept his eyes in check–smart boy, you bit back a smirk–but the rest of the team complimented you, Hotch and Rossi having almost completely different ways of doing so, you snorted at the contrast. 

Spencer took the driver seat of a vehicle you were borrowing, the dark of a December night threatening to conceal the thing entirely. You gazed out the window, “they’re following us right?”

“Everyone will be outside and prepared.”

“I can’t believe this,” you sighed, throwing your head back.

“The fact that we’re going undercover or the fact that you have to wear that piece of cloth?” Spencer asked, though his manner was light, there was a rough undertone that heated your insides.

“I was wondering when you were going to bring it up,” you sighed carelessly, waving a hand, “I just thought you hadn’t noticed.”

“Everyone noticed.” The mask of his facade was slowly slipping away, revealing a much colder side to Spencer–one you had the pleasure of seeing more and more of the past three weeks than in all of the six months you’d been in the BAU.

“Yeah,” you smooth down the dress, “I wouldn’t normally wear this type of thing out unless I was looking to bring someone home.”

“Oh really?” You could practically hear his eyebrows raise. “You never wear things like that when we go out for drinks.”

“Precisely my point,” you quipped.

Spencer pulled into the club’s parkinglot. It took you less than five minutes to get inside. At first, you were sitting at the bar, but then, Spencer, with the earpiece attached to him, relayed the message from Hotch. Penelope had given everyone access to the inside of the club, they were watching you two through the cameras. You forced yourself not to glance at them–even the tiniest slipup could reveal you to the unsub, and you wanted them to target, not avoid you.

“They want us to dance.” Spencer sighed loud enough to where you could hear it over the noise.

“Right,” you rolled your eyes, because that’s exactly how the unsubs target their victims–didn’t we go over this in the profile? Your smile tightened as you spun and headed for the floor, crowded by so many–oh that’s not hygienic.

“Yeah, okay, maybe we skip this part,” Spencer grimaced from his palace beside you.

“You think?” You raised an unimpressed brow at the blurred figures in front of you.

He murmured something Hotch and they went back and forth a little, though you couldn’t hear exactly what was said, Spencer’s face of triumph was all you needed to breathe a sigh of relief.

You found yourselves hiding in the corner at the back, there weren’t many people crowding around you which made you perfect for the unsubs, though the appearance of them at this club tonight was purely based on instinct, gut feelings, and careful, calculated guessing, there was still a chance they wouldn’t show themselves.

You didn’t mean for it to happen like this, you were doing everything in your power to stay composed and in control, but some part of you–the defiant, terrible side of you–wanted so badly to see his reaction when you touched him.

His frame leaned over you, holding you against the probably dirty wall, the sensual music that played a heavy beat around you felt like an instigator. Sweat slipped down his neck and it drew your attention, all of a sudden Spencer tensed, then he relaxed slightly but it felt forced, “They have eyes on the unsubs.”

“How many,” You compelled your eyes to stay on his though they wanted to scour the area around you and find just exactly who he was talking about–which would be idiotic, of course.

“That’s right,” he swallowed–ignoring your question, your eyes caught his throat bobbing–he noticed. “Keep your eyes on me,” you nodded at his words, feeling your throat drying as you neglected the need to trace his collarbone with both your fingers and gaze.

His hair was a mess of damp curls and his face was barely visible in the bright, flashing lights, but you had a job to do–and yet here you were, gripping the collar of his shirt, brushing back the hair that fell in his face as he looked at you with those eyes.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said, “but if you aren’t up for this just tell me now.” His voice lilted at a challenge, but you heard the mumble ordered in the earpiece–by hell he could yank you hair almost completely out and you wouldn’t give a damn.

You held his regard with one of your own, eyes narrowed, “Just do it.”

And he did. But he also didn’t. His smirk narrowed ere leaning in. He gripped your face with an elephants strength and a swan’s gracefulness. You closed your eyes, waiting for his lips, but he swerved at the last moment and kissed the skin below your ear. He trailed a few kisses down your neck but stayed close to your hearing range, evidently, he was teasing–you wanted to scoff but couldn’t find it in you to make him stop.

“How’s this?” He murmured.

“You’re an ass,” you replied huffed, trying to mask a groan.

He grinned against your neck, “I know.”

The club case was the reason you and Spencer now ensured you were always together. From then on, you seemed to not want to be anywhere else the other wasn’t–or rather, you felt more comfortable with each other and couldn’t bring yourselves to leave the other alone.

Not that either of you minded and you still did your jobs perfectly fine–though there was more intensity when the other was in any sort of danger, it only propelled the one that wasn’t to learn how to do their job quicker. It was both a fast track to understanding how to adapt to constant situations that warped your idea of what was really going on. When he got something wrong–which was rare but not absolute. After about a month of this, you were starting to question what you were to him–what he was to you.

Though you still weren’t sure how to properly ask that question. You hadn’t slept together, though you thought about it all the time you weren’t at work…and perhaps sometimes when you were… Those thoughts slipped through on occasion–but it wasn't anything that hadn’t been transpiring before the club case.

It was as if the ‘who can make the other person more embarrassed’ game had been turned into the ‘what can I do to make you squirm this time’ game. Like the rules of the game had somehow intensified and touching was now allowed and despite all of the things that ensued upon the new rule instatement, you still had not taken it further than work.

It kept you up most nights, and you wondered when this cycle of what are we would end–if it would take one of you getting into a relationship–though you were sure Spencer didn’t have to worry about you in that department–and although you hated it, the fact was that Spencer was the only one you could think about. It was as if the man had ruined sex for you altogether. 

You fucking hated Spencer Reid–and that fucking chifforobe. 

Your heart dropped in your chest. You refused to give Spencer the satisfaction of looking over at him–though he seemed just as surprised as you. At this point anything could happen–and by anything you mean anything. Because anything would be better than having to share a room with him again. You were so tired you could barely recall what that even meant.

But then again, a small part of you whispered, this could be your chance. My chance? You scoffed, my chance at what? Making a fool of myself? Because confronting him means admitting I can’t stop–thinking about him. And that, to you, would feel like admitting defeat. It’d feel like losing the game–oh and you really felt like you were winning! Winning at what again? God, you needed sleep.

“Are you planning on getting in the shower first?,” he asked as soon as you were behind the door, away from prying ears and nosy coworkers.

You let out a heavy sigh and held your arms up to stretch, yawning–“honestly, I might just head to bed, it’s late and I could really use the sleep.”

“Have you not been able to sleep at night?” He set his things on the bed near the window as you claimed the one near the door.

“You have no idea,” you murmured, although a bit more to yourself than to him.

“Do you know why?” He seemed genuinely curious–but as you faced him, all you could think was, if only you knew.

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’ and grimaced as you laid your back against the bed, arms spread like a starfish, your duffle bag discarded near your feet at the end of the bed.

You felt Spencer watching you, but for the first time in a while, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You quite literally had been running on nothing but coffee for the past day and a half–and you were in desperate need of some sleep–especially if you wanted to be at your best tomorrow.

“Here,” you hadn't heard Spencer approach you–you blamed his Hotch training. You cracked open an eye as he pushed you on your side. Your back burned at where he’d touched you, but it was quickly overshadowed when you heard him yank the bedspread down as hard as he could. “Come, on,” he huffed, pulling your shoes off and setting them beside your bag.

You forced yourself under the cover and snuggled, “the light?” you grumbled.

“First, your blazer,” he held out a hand. You whined but made quick work of ridding yourself of the fabric. “You sure you don’t want to change into something more comfortable–”

“Spencer.” You warned.

“Yeah, I hear you,” he reached for the lamp atop the bedside table–smaller than the one from the last hotel room you’d shared–the chifforobe near the window was smaller as well. He hummed as the thoughts faded in and passed through his mind.

Spencer found himself forgetting everything else as he sat in the bed opposite yours and leaned his arms on his thighs, watching you. A few minutes passed, but only when a knock sounded on the door did he realize he maybe shouldn’t be watching his coworker like a creep. Though, you weren’t really a coworker, were you?

Well–he meant you were–but you were also more than that, though he didn’t exactly know if your relationship had a name, he knew that it entailed things normal coworkers did not have. He knew what he wanted–but to outright say it felt like disrupting the sort of balance you’d gotten accustomed to–as if going out and actually attempting to take what he wanted would break the trance that had set over the two of you–it’d be throwing all the rule’s to the game away, and then what did either of you have left? Rules were important, if not necessary. He couldn’t chance it–not yet at least.

“Hey, oh,” Morgan tried looking around the room.

Spencer felt his eyes roll as he stepped into the hall and shut the door slightly behind him, careful not to shut it completely as he didn’t have the key card and he didn’t want to wake you up. “Yes?”

Morgan nodded behind him, “she’s asleep?”

“She’s really tired,” Spencer affirmed.

“Right,” his eyes fell back on Spencer, and for a second, he thought Morgan might be analyzing his form.

“Was there something you needed?” Spencer pressed, eager to head back into the room, unpack his suitcase, and head to bed himself.

“Ah, no, we were just going to order food–but I guess you don’t want anything either?”

“Uh, no, but thanks for asking.”

“Uh-huh,” Morgan once again glanced behind Spencer, whose irritation at the suspicion was steadily increasing.

“She’d not dead,” Spencer stated, though he meant it as a joke it came out rather harsh.

“Alright, pretty boy, I didn’t say she was.” Morgan chuckled, patting Spencer on the shoulder, “See you tomorrow.”

Spencer made quick work of unloading his things, he thought about getting in the shower but feared it’d wake you. Instead, he debated on whether or not he should leave your things in you bag or do you a favor and put them away. He didn’t want you to consider him a snoop, especially with how you’d been looking at each other the past few weeks–and that undercover case.

His heartbeat picked up, and he couldn't stop thinking about it–it was the thing he fell asleep to at night; it was gradually eating away at him, and he couldn’t deny the way his body tensed whenever he recalled the image of you under the flashing array of lights–how you’d looked so…submissive.

He hastily shoved that thought to the furthest corner he could find in his mind and headed for your bag. He didn’t want to be brash with the way he put your clothing away, but he also didn’t you to wake up while he was holding your underwear–then he’d truly feel like a creep. 

He was halfway done when you mumbled something; he froze and he could feel the thump of his heart in his chest. Though it was still winter, he’d begun to sweat and had set his glasses aside because they kept sliding off the bridge of his nose. He’d been wearing them more often than not for the past few months as he’d found them to be a particular fascination of yours. It was now that he squinted and moved his hand around for them.

His footsteps carried him quietly across the room, near your bedside. “—?” He whispered and when you failed to respond, lifted a tentative hand to your cheek–though just before the pads of his fingertips met your skin, you mumbled something again–and this time, he could hear it. He fisted his hand and used the bedside table to hold himself up, and although he couldn’t see them, he knew his hands were turning white with how hard he was squeezing them.

Again. He wanted to hear it again–his prayers were answered as you shifted slightly, tugging the cover up to your neck. Skimming down your person, he bit his fist and tried to calm himself down. Again. He needed to sit down, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He felt it twitch–he needed to walk away right now. And he did, but instead of picking up where he’d left off with your clothing, he headed for the bathroom, not bothering to turn the light on as he shut himself in complete darkness.

Images of you, your stolen glances, and desperate touches filled his mind. He was particularly focused on the tired way you slurred his name in your sleep. He wondered what kind of dreams you were having, what you were picturing as you said his name like that. He muffled his groans as he stroked himself, using his fist to bite back anything that might escape the small confines of the washroom. His thoughts of you were possibly the only thing he allowed himself to go to extensive lengths with. His mouth watered at the mere concept of you and your twisting legs. He’d done this a considerable amount of times before–but this was the first time you were so close– a hairsbreadth away.

It felt both right and wrong, and yet the lines began fading into oblivion as he came closer to climax.

He whimpered into his hand just as he came. It was odd, he didn’t too much feel like a creep after he cleaned himself up, but upon washing his hands profusely and returning to put your garments away, he was once more–afraid of what you’d think if you caught him messing with your things.

Although a part of him felt it might have been because he wanted you to find him in that state, he tried rationalizing–but the more he thought about it–even as he now rested his head against a pillow–the more he found that ‘might’ to be absolute truth. 

You woke up to the smell of coffee. You stretched, yawned, and pried your eyes open. Rolling onto your side, you found Spencer devouring a book, his glasses at the tip of his nose. You smiled, thinking you were dreaming–but then his eyes shifted over to yours and your smile fell, you quickly understood this Spencer was real–oh no–your cheeks burned from last night's delusions. “Good morning,” he smiled. You groaned and sat up, your hands finding your cheeks, “what time is it?”

“It’s around six, you have,” he checked his watch, “an hour and thirty minutes, Hotch wants us ready before eight.”

You huffed and threw yourself back against the pillows. New Years had come and gone and you hadn't even celebrated...though, your mind with all the ways you could make up for it–you shook the thoughts away, now was not the time.

Five minutes later you were searching for your clothing, but your bag was practically empty, “did you move my things?”

Spencer choked on his coffee, “ah–yeah,” he motioned toward the chifforobe. You glared at it as he said, “It’s small, so some of our things are mixed, but you should be able to find whatever you’re looking for easily.”

“Thank you” You appreciated his simple act of affection, it made your chest ache.

“Yeah, sure.” Despite going back to reading his book, Spencer snuck small glimpses of you from the corners of his eyes.

As the hot water ran down your back, you found yourself thinking of Spencer, just a few feet away, you were practically naked and he could walk in at any moment, you felt an ache between your thighs, but you shrugged it off–or at least you tried to.

You hadn’t had sex since that incident with Spencer a few weeks ago. You tried–by all God did you try–but you just couldn’t It led to a few arguments with the guys you’d taken home–and your credit, you did feel just a little bad. All the same, you simply couldn’t seem to get him out of your mind. It was like he was mocking or watching you every time you attempted it–he was that tiny, little voice in the back of your head feigning disappointment, saying you wouldn’t purge the sexual frustration unless it were him. Though you were a saint at keeping it hidden, your agitation only built.

The day was more or less: “Spencer, what do you see?” from Hotch and “—, if you were the unsub…” from Morgan. Penelope was on call a few times and you were so close, but it had grown late and you needed sufficient unwinding. After a group dinner in the hotel lobby that primarily consisted of takeout and the small meal provided by the hotel staff, you headed up to your room. Spencer stayed to grab one last cup of coffee before the staff closed the mailroom for good. Thus, with your alone time, you decided to wash off all the griminess of the day.

You were drying yourself with a towel when you heard him enter, “I’m almost done,” you shouted, “I think there’s still some hot water left.”

His lack of response piqued your curiosity. You threw your clothing on once you were mostly just damp and yanked the door open. You were pulling your hair back into a ponytail when he looked up. He’d just set his cup of coffee on the table near the lamp, which now that you noticed, was the only light that lit up the room, he had turned the big llight off.

“You okay?” You rubbed your face, dropping your hands to your side right after, “did you hear me?”

“No, sorry,” he frowned, “I wasn’t paying attention.” He stood.

“Oh, I just said–if you wanted to get in, there’s still hot water left.” You thrust a your thumb behind you.

“Ah, thanks.” You nodded and pursed your lips. “So, what book were you reading this morning?” You took up the spot Spencer had just abandoned.

He turned and watched you–filling the area. He caught the way your legs pressed together as you crossed them to sit more comfortably against the pillows, attention to the book he’d been reading that morning.

“I’m going to get in the shower,” he cursed himself as he felt desire pool in his throat. He wondered what it’d be like to kiss you, to touch you–to taste you. His mouth watered at the prospect and he felt himself harden just like the night before. His shower was quick as the water had gotten cold and had quickly ruined his mood.

“You lied to be,” he glared at you from the threshold of the bathroom door.

You bit your lip, but still, a smile graced your mouth, “sorry, I thought it would last.” He shook his wet hair around around, mimicking the actions a puppy would.

“What?” His eyes widened slightly and his eyebrows raised, “what did you call me?”

A hand flew to your mouth, your own surprise showing, “I–” of bloody course, you said it out loud.

He stepped forward, dropping his towel on the bed, “say it again.” It was odd, the way he said it–like it was both a question and a demand–or rather, a demand he questioned your willingness to obey.

“…puppy?” you tried laughing it off, “Sorry, it just came out–I didn’t mean t–”

“Didn’t you, though?” Came a mirthful reply. Spencer stepped forward, towering over you as he leaned down, bringing his face near yours, one hand on the bed near your hips, the other on the bedside table. “Is that what you’ve thought of me this entire time?”

And what the hell were you supposed to say to that? Game on is what Spencer saw in your eyes as you set the book on the table, your hand purposely roaming over his as you pulled it back. “No,” you stated, a nonchalant expression crossing your features as your eyes turned away from his, the move calculated, “only sometimes.”

Spencer didn’t think the table would be able to withstand him much longer, but it did as he thought of ways he might proceed. Eventually, he let go and instead wrapped his firm fingers around your nape, forcing your attention to his. “And do you think that now?”

He watched a Chesire grin take its place upon your mouth. “If I said yes, would that anger you, Dr. Reid?” The mocking was unnecessary, but it sure as hell was a lot more fun than if you simply addressed him as ‘Spencer’ or ‘Reid’.

The parental-like tone you took up furthered his new-growing erection. His hair still dripped with water and as a water droplet streaked down his face, you lifted your hand to wipe it with your thumb. His hand let your your neck go to snatch your wrist–God you wanted him so badly. This witty banter–you were already starting to find–just wasn’t enough anymore.

Your eyes reapproached his, they seemed to meet with the same level of desire, completely forgetting that there was a serial killer on the loose, your eyes dipped to his lips only once before you leaned forward–but while you did he pushed you back, your back hitting the bedframe and just as you caught your breath, you found yourself being deprived of air once more.

Spencer was hungry, he tasted like coffee and something minty. Your hands tangled through his hair and while he suffocated you in the only way you’d ever want to be suffocated, you tugged. It barely stopped him the first time, but the second and third had his eyes rolling.

When they found you again, noting the playful glint in your eyes, he vowed he would go as far as you’d let him tonight–and perhaps the night after that, he hadn’t quite thought it through, and at this time, he neither had the strength nor the want to do so. 

He began tugging at your t-shirt, but you grabbed his hand, “ah-ah,” you clicked your tongue, “you have to earn that.” 

He paused and took a step back, watching you now, your knees digging into the softness of the mattress; your mouth darkened with the visceral kisses he’d forced on you. Your eyes sparked with something he knew he’d never be able to find in any other woman. His lips quirked, his eyes were hooded, and his voice thick when he asked, “What do I have to do?”

The need in his voice was enough to shed you of your clothing right then and there, but it seemed you had a lot more self-control than he did in the moment. You tugged your hair out of the loosened, droopy ponytail it had fallen into and brushed it back, smoothing it out to appear just how you wanted it to. You felt his eyes on you, patient, but every second he was, was a second his lust grew, and the moment you gave him the okay–well, he honestly couldn’t say just what he’d be capable of.

“You seem agitated, Spencer,” you pouted, shifting so that your legs fell in front of you over the edge of the bed. His eyes tracked your movements as he used your bed’s bedpost to steady himself, “just how many times have you pictured me like this?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” came his frivolity response. To be frank, he knew the exact answer to your question, but the first thing that flew into his head and out of his mouth was–to be sure–an edging reply. He watched how you interpreted it.

In a moment of unconsciousness, you glanced at the chifforobe across from you. Spencer caught that shit.

“Oh?” He raised a brow, finding the confidence to step forward.

“Don’t get any ideas, Reid.” You warned, but he could see the arguments going on between your eyes.

“No, see: I think it’s your idea.” He corrected, a deep, rumble of a laugh fell from his throat, “So, what exactly did you picture me doing with this thing.” He snorted and walked over to it, running a hand along the cupboard. You bit your lit, your dreams coming into clear view as if they were a film playing in front of you.

“Spencer,” you stood both embarrassed and a little annoyed. 

You marched over to it at placed a hand on his shoulder–but then you were against the doors of the small chifforobe and Spencer was whispering just above your ear, “Was this it? Your sick fantasies of me? Did they include me having you against a wardrobe?”

Your breath caught and you wanted to hide your face because there was no doubt he’d be able to see the truth without you having to voice any sort of answer–but the jerk had his hand cupped around your jaw, and his grip was unimaginably strong for–well, him.

He smiled and tilted his head–and God only knew what that did to your resolve. Your knees weakened and you found yourself whimpering. “So, I guess that’s a yes.” You found just enough strength to narrow your eyes and look somewhat pissed. He nodded, “the shirt,” he tugged at the bottom.

You bit back a repost as he dropped his hands and stepped away, though he kept his distance close enough to where you felt his presence even after you’d lifted your shirt and he was out of sight. His eyes didn’t leave yours, you admired his stoicism; you’d already proved you weren’t any match when your eyes traced every line anytime you saw a sliver of his stomach, hips, neck, or forearms–okay maybe you had a bit of an obsession, but could it honestly be considered that when the look he was giving you screamed ‘wolf in sheep's clothing’? 

“What other things have you thought up in that horny brain of yours, I wonder,” he spoke almost to himself, but his ever-focused gaze told you he was quite literally asking.

“That’s not how the game works,” a cheeky grin reformed your scowl.

“Right,” he paused, turning his eyes to the ceiling for effect, “remind me?”

Your eyes roved from one eye to the other, and back again, searching for any hint of hesitation, “this foreplay is kind of starting to get old.”

“Yes, I can agree–” you cut him off midsentence with a ravenous kiss. You could swear you bit him more than once, but he wasn’t complaining. Your head lulled to the side as he trailed kisses up and down your neck, finding a spot he particularly liked just below your ear.

Your hands twisted in his hair, yanking, tugging, and pulling–whatever got the most responses from him, you were doing. You threw his shirt to the side and pushed him toward the bed. He braced himself using his arms, though they were swiftly in motion again, wrapping around your waist as you stepped between his legs. “What do you want?” You asked, attempting to catch your breath.

He laughed, but when he realized you were serious he almost snorted, “What do I–what do I want?”

“It’s a simple question,” you shrugged, “what do you want from me?”

Now–now his eyes dipped, “I want a lot of things.”

You bit back another grin. Somehow in the few minutes, you’d been running around the room talking about how horny you both were, you’d ended up on the bed, your head behind a pillow. Spencer was between your legs, mouth-watering. He’s waited so long, he honestly didn’t think this foretold moment would ever actually occur, but God, was he glad he’d been wrong. Heavy, sinful eyes skimmed your lower body as he fumbled with the top of your shorts. His hands were warm despite the dreary weather outside, likely due to his recent shower. They pressed into your thighs as he brought his face just above your lower stomach, his name fell from your mouth in a whine, leading him to push aside the cover of your shorts. He drug a few fingers over your center.

Your moans sliced through the rough tension that had fallen over the hotel room. “What?” His snort was low and sloppy, “Oh, is–,” one of his fingers gently slid over you and your eyes shut, “–is this what you want?” His eyes traced the arch of your neck that was most exposed, the one lined with the red marks he’d left. The twitching beneath his sweatpants pulled a groan from his lips.

He swirled his finger around, feeling your wetness was more than inviting. “Spencer,” you cried, eyes flying open at the loss of contact. 

“Be still,” he said, his voice wavering as he tugged everything off and discarded them on the floor. You watched him watch you–it wasn’t until you noted the way his eyes narrowed that you understood he was outlining your form–so that he could vividly paint it in his mind for a later purpose.

“I asked first,” you frowned up at him.

“You’re right,” he sighed, “here: let me show you what I want.”

Your breath caught as he lowered himself, his face coming right up to you, and with the way he was drooling at the sight, you could tell he’d been thinking about this for a while–it made you wonder if his desire had begun a lot sooner than yours had.

His mouth was warm, his tongue stroked up and down as far as they could go, and even when you thought he’d reached that point, he proved you wrong. Your hands knotted in his hair as you guided his head. His mouth was warm as he lapped up everything. You tried keeping your moan to a minimum, but when he stopped, your eyes popped open–had you done something wrong? But no, he was looking up at you with those desperate, puppy-like eyes, “please,” his whisper was grating, “I want to hear you.”

You swallowed, the ache building in you, “if that’s what you want,” you nodded.

And a few moments later, you were calling out his name in a way you’d never called anyone name. This was so new, you’d never had a guy worship you like this and you couldn’t fathom the fact that Spencer wanted to do it for your pleasure as well as his own.

You tried to hold it in, but your body had been desolate of attention for so long that you just couldn’t anymore. You could hear him slurp, and God did it do something to your brain chemistry– He considered you with clouded eyes. “Are you okay?” He frowned, pushing his body over yours.

Without giving him time to settle, you yanked his jaw toward your face with firm hands, he tasted like you and smelled of his shampoo–and yet, there was still the unknown Spencer scent that seemed only his skin could produce. You lined his jaw with kisses, your heart pounding in your chest with every new groan that escaped him.

My turn,” you huffed, definitely the cause of the lopsided grin that spread across his mouth. Though his hair was a mousy brown, in the dim yellow lamplight, it was as dark as the wood that made up the vintage furniture. It looked windswept or like he had just woken up–and perhaps he had. It was no longer a deniable fact that he’d never feel this good with anyone else, and he didn’t know how long this relationship with you would last, so he would milk everything he could out of it–and in exchange, surrender everything he had of himself.

It was only a few seconds later that you had him on his back, hands roving up and down his chest. You rubbed yourself against him, eliciting sweet sounds from his throat and friction from where you were just barely connected. You made sure to hold his gaze as you slid onto him. His jaw tightened and you could feel relief leave him as his chest fell. You tightened around him, trying to get used to him, you had to pause for a second–you couldn’t believe you were doing this–and in a moment of incompetence, you laughed.

“Sorry,” you lowered your chest onto his and began chuckling into his neck, “it’s just–what would the other think if they knew?”

Spencer pushed your shoulder away and held you above him, “I guess it’s a good thing they don’t, right?”

You nodded, but a small part of you wondered about what that meant for the after. Spencer groaned as you sat back up, you started slowly, hissing as you let him fill you. Spencer gave out his fair share of whimpers, but you wanted more, you wanted to make him cry.

You gripped his hair with one hand and the pillow beside him with another, you rolled your hips and wiggled every time you sat back down. Squeezing your thighs seemed to make him shudder the most, and when you added sucking to the mix, you knew you had him. 

“There it is,” your grin was devilish as you swiped at his cheek. He opened his eyes just in time to see you licking his tears off your thumb.

“I might ask what we are now,” you huffed a laugh as Spencer shut the bathroom door. He had been a complete gentleman about everything, cleaning you, massaging your shoulders. You’d never had such an experience, you’d never thought there could be more to having sex if you only had the right partner; now that you did, there was…but you were unsure about yourself.

You found your mind questioning all you knew about Spencer and what this all meant to you. You had asked him what he wanted from you, but did you even know what you wanted from him? Before, the question might have thrown you off–though Spencer had asked it, you weren’t taking him all too seriously. Now that you had more time to contemplate your roving thoughts, you knew the answer as if it had been written in your DNA.

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed as he sat beside you, you were facing the window and the chifforobe.

“Well, what else would we be?” He paused, almost hesitatingly. You jerked your head toward his, eyes searching, and as the seconds of silence ticked by, he seemed to fade more and more into himself. When he turned his head and averted his eyes, saying, “I mean–if that’s not what you want–” you cut him off.

“No, I just–” you stopped yourself, unsure of how to explain the complications running through your mind, “I’m just not exactly sure what that means…”

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. You opened your mouth to clarify–probably more than necessary–but your words caught in your throat as Spencer stood and lowered to his knees in front of you. He was between your thighs, but there was nothing sexual about it–if anything it felt like the complete opposite kind of intimacy you had grown accustomed to with him.

His hands reached for yours, pulling them into your lap. He looked up at you with possibly the one look Spencer Reid had never given anyone. His eyes couldn’t decide which one of yours to focus on for the longest time, but when he did, his tone was guttural and almost choking, trusting. 

“The more time I spend with you, the more I feel I’ve always known you. These past few weeks–they weren’t the beginning for me.” Your mouth suddenly went dry, though you still tried to swallow. “I–I honestly don’t know when it started, but the more I felt drawn to you, the more I forced myself away. It–I don’t–I didn’t think I deserved to feel that way–I guess…”

You waited a few moments to ensure he was finished, your mind ran to look for the best possible response–but given the one-in-a-million situation you were in, your mind went blank. Instead, you rambled the first words that rolled into your mind just as you whispered the last, “I want you in every way, Spencer. It’s like–like you’ve bewitched me–”

“...body and soul,” he finished, “it’s…Jane Austen–sorry.” He cringed.

You threw your head back and laughed, then huffed, wiping a few tears from your eyes, “No, oh, no don’t worry. See this is why I love you,” Your heart came to an abrupt halt, and you felt as if you were dead, “no–I mean, I don’t–I mean, I–well, I do, but I mean–”

“It’s okay,” you followed his face as he stood and leaned down, his palm brushing across your face as he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear and leaned forward, “It’s okay, know what you meant,” the end of his sentence was muffled by another kiss.

“So, do you think they’ve caught on yet?” JJ asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Uhh, I’d say probably not.” Emily nodded.

“Would you like the share with the class?” Morgan raised a brow.

“Oh, I know this one,” Penelope hand shot up, her jewelry clinking against one another, “because — and Reid still think we don’t know.”

“I mean how could we not, though?” JJ huffed a laugh, setting her mug on the table in front of her.

“Know what?” Rossi smacked his lips, startling the group of four.

“Know…the complexities of…nail polish?” Penelope tried and failed to save the group.

All four members winced as Hotch appeared seemingly out of thin air and stated, “they think we don’t know about Spencer and —.” “What?” Rossi shook his head, following Hotch, “how could we not know? They’re so obvious.”

a/n: sorry for the wait, but i do proofread my fics because i just can't stand things not being as good as they could be–i'm a bit of a perfectionist lol irregardless, happy late new year !!

@darkmatilda @theylovemelody

[he115er]

Nice tits

Literally just the dreamies holding/touching your tits :)

MDNI!! , tit holding, nipple play, kissing, teasing?, proof read, uhm might've forgotten something.

Mark Wc:227

He is the type to mindlessly play with your tits. You're both laying on the couch cuddled up to each other. In your most comfortable clothes, he has an arm over your shoulder while the other holds his phone. He's scrolling mindlessly trying to fill his mind of something as ads roll. The hand by your shoulder slowly slips into your sweater by the collar and immediately finds your soft nipple his cold hands making it harden.

You look at him to see if he's doing it on purpose but to your surprise , he's still mindlessly scrolling. He takes the nub between his fingers and starts lightly tweaking it. You sigh at the feeling, he's done this so much he doesn't even have to think about it.

You put your hand atop his to get his attention and he looks at you confused. He looks down at where his hand is and then at you and gives you an apologetic smile going to move his hand "I didn't tell you to stop" you mutter as you move in closer to him.

A boyish smile plasters across his face as you climb on his lap and start kissing his neck. "Would've done this ages ago if I knew you'd act like this". You don't think of protesting to his statement, instead you shut him up by kissing him.

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Renjun Wc:173

When I tell you he knows you like his hands. He'll take any opportunity to say that. Puts his hand on your thigh and lightly squeezes while he's talking to a friend.

But his favorite activity so far is pulling your shirt up and holding your tits, you'll look down to see his hands and then to him and he'll just smile "thought they needed a holder" he says as he playfully pushes them up. Your nipples between his forefinger and middle finger, he pinches at them before moving to using this thumb to circle the now hard buds "and you said you loved my hands" he whispers in your ear "you can watch them as I play with your tits" he whispers as he kisses just below your earlobe.

Whatever you were doing is forgotten as you lean into his touch. You put your hands on his forearms as he continues go play with your tits. He lightly tugs at the buds watching your face for every reaction as he does so.

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Jeno Wc:170

Face first into them. He'll come back from the gym and just needs to recharge. He'll drop his bag and crawl on top of you, lifting your shirt up making you giggle as his soft and damp hair tickles your skin. He knows you don't wear a bra while at home so all he needs to do is lay down.

And lay he does, his weight on you like a weighted blanket, his considerably hotter body warming you up. Any protest of him being too warm, too heavy, or stinky fall to deaf ears, he knows you love this about him. He's heard one too many times, of you talking to your friends about it when you think he's asleep.

If you start complaining a little too much though he'll sneak one of his hands up to your tit and gently massage it also lifting his head up so he can take your nipple into his mouth. Instantly your words get caught in your throat at his actions as he rolls the hardening bub between his lips. It's muscle memory at this point, he doesn't need to put much thought into remembering what you like.

He lightly sucks at the bud rolling his tongue along the tip. He release it with a wet pop as he moves his head go to the other resuming the same actions. You put your hand on top of patting it gently "okay-o-kay i-i get it I'll shut up" you say in defeat and he pauses his actions "but please don't stop" you mumble. He smiles and continues pulling you almost impossibly close to him.

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Heachan Wc:238

Omg gamer alert. He loves playing games but he also loves watching you play games, any kind of game as long as you're passionate about it. Just the intensity of your concentration. You're so in tune that you didn't notice him sneaking up behind you, or when his hands slid under your shirt to grope your breasts.

You only really take notice when he tells you to use a specific item. Now the warmth on your chest makes sense. But you don't bother to say anything "it's extra support" he says as he excuses now playing with your nipples as he watches you play. "Heachan you're distracting me" you protest as you slightly curl into yourself. God if only he didn't know they were so sensitive.

He smirks "oh,don't mind me" he says as he continues now also kissing along your neck. He completely understands why you distract him from his game a whole lot now. A moan slips past your lips as he starts to suck a new hickey onto your neck. You quickly hit pause on your game and try your best to pull him closer to you.

"Fu-fuck this" you mumble as you pull him into a kiss which he gladly accepts. He leans over your chair pushing you deeper into it. Oh now he gets it, the power he feels just from doing this, he could get used to doing this more often.

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Jeamin Wc:203

Loves watching you dress. Especially when you're still half asleep. The first thing you put on is a some pants. Then you walk around looking for your bra. And when you find it, you waddle on over to him for help. Tho it's not his favorite thing in the world "aw cmon let your tits outs" he'd protest but he does enjoy helping you put the clasps on if you're struggling. He gets to sneakily hold you tits saying he's adjusting the cups.

He also enjoys seeing your shirt bunched up at the top as you try to remember where you left your deodorant. He always comes up behind you and slides one of his hands under the cup of your bra as he reaches up to where it is, he always miss places it so he has the chance to. He squishes at the soft flesh as he leans down to kiss your cheek "you always forget where you put it~" he teases as he puts the deodorant in your hands.

It seems now's the time to forget about getting dressed as you turn your head to capture your lips in his, you don't miss the little smirk as you do so.

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Chenle Wc:270

Domestic moment! Doesn't usually do it out of the blue, but seeing you doing some menial task like washing the dishes, making your self a snack, standing in the kitchen while he's in there, just doing anything in the kitchen. It fills him with the urge of being close to you. Skin to skin. But he can't since he doesn't want to disturb you.

So he settles for sliding his hands under your shirt, resting his hands on your bare hips and playing with the waistband of your shorts. "Lele what are you doing? " you ask with a slight giggle as he taps his fingers. "Can't I touch the love of my life? " he asks as he lightly squeezes at your hips.

You shake your head "I know what you're doing" you say in faux annoyance. Even if he doesn't do it often you know his ulterior motives. He feigns ignorance as he slides his hands up your hips to your waist "I have no idea what you're talking about". He says smile clear in his voice. His hands keep on wandering until they're at your ribcage just below the swell of your breast.

"Chenle" you say in a warning tone, but just as you utter his name he does the opposite. He easily pushes up your bra and replaces it by cupping your breasts. He smiles to himself as you sigh in defeat. He lays his head on your shoulder to look at what you're doing "whatcha doing anyways? " he innocently asks looking at your hands that are frozen in place as he starts to toy with your nipples.

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Jisung Wc:196

He shyly slides his hands up to your chest. They were already there hugging your waist as you sit in his lap. He can't remember exactly why you're there but now he just has to hold them in his hands. They inch up slowly watching for any hesitation.

But to his suprise you just move his hands to your tits yourself, a surprised gasp leaving his lips as you do so. He hides his face in the crook of your neck slightly embarrassed by your boldness. But that doesn't mean he'll stop. You just gave him permission why would he stop now?

His hands automatically cup your breasts lightly squeezing at the flesh as he gently rolls his fingers over it. He loves the small reactions you give him despite being immersed in your own thing. The small gasp you let out as his pointer finger pushes on your nipple and then rolls over it. Or the way you stifle a moan as he starts kissing at your neck both of his hands now gently playing with your tits. He's all too observant of every reaction even when you slightly shift and lean back against him.

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[mi-co-uk]

𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱

loner!reader x needy!chris

plot: needy!chris is drunk and desperate ..

WARNINGS: SMUTTT, intoxication, language, neck kissing, pussy grabbing, (m)masturbation, imagining of riding, tit worship, I think that's it but let me know if I've missed anythinggg . the series itself will contain smut fluff and angst ⋆𐙚

( this can technically be read on its own but it's a part of a seriesss )

p.s I'm dyslexic n lazy <3

pls enjoy <3

MASTERLIST

prev parts: INTRO / 1 / 2

CHAPTER 3 || picture you

"chris, enough!" you demanded, pushing down on his shoulders to seat him back on the edge of the bed.

"baby, stay with me please?" chris was relentless. tugging at the hem of your dress, insistent that he needed your company to sleep. you both had shared his bed casually before, that wasn't the issue. the issue was in chris' refusal to actually listen to the words coming out of your mouth.

you cradle his face in your hands, tilting his pouted face up to look directly at you. "im staying okay? but we both need to get changed."

chris starts to caress your wrists with his fingers, pupils fully dilated and eyelids dropping slightly. "mhm" he hums as you speak.

"so I'm gonna go to the bathroom, alright? you get comfortable and so will I, and then I'll stay with you. that okay?" he nods dumbly, eyes flickering all over your face which definitely wasn't helping to convince you that he'd actually listened to you.

you'd seen him drunk before, but never this drunk. you try to ease out of his grasp which results in a look of horror from chris.

"w-what? wait!"

"chrisss I'm getting changed!" you finally work your way to your bags, retrieving some comfier clothes.

you stood up from the floor before you felt yourself back up against chris' chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"please, please, please ..." he trailed kisses along your shoulder blade inbetween each word, the feeling sent direct shivers down your spine almost immediately. you instinctively leaned your head to one side, giving him full access to start kissing and nibbling at your neck. soft gasps escaped you, encouraging chris enough to push your hips backwards into his - allowing you to feel his hardening dick. the clothes you're supposed to be changing into leave your grasp as you whisper his name, exhaling deeply as he continues leaving sloppy kisses and making marks up your neck.

"y-youre drunk."

"and?" his voice deep with desire.

you reach up and tug at his brown locks, leaning your head back onto his shoulder. "you wouldn't.. do this sober."

"you think?" one hand still across your frame, pulling you tight against him while his other hand travels lower. "mhm" is the only response you manage as he pulls the end of your dress up, before starting to apply pressure to your clothed pussy, rubbing it with his palm.

"I need you.. so bad" he whispers into your ear, earning a soft moan from you.

your head is whirling with thoughts, knowing that this was wrong- but not a single part of you had yet tried to stop him. "you gonna be good for me?"

your juices were now clearly visible through your panties, the ones that chris' eyes were fixed directly onto.

the split second you felt able to, you freed yourself from his grasp and turned around to face him.

his eyes were full of lust and adoration, sparkling as he stared down at you. it was a look of undeniable desperation, you blindly step away from him and towards the door, quickly bending down and picking back up your clothes on the way.

"i-im uh gonna" you swallow deeply. "gonna sleep on the couch."

you back out the room quickly, finally escaping his intense gaze.

chris couldn't prevent you leaving, and as soon as you did he felt his dick strain hard against his jeans - demanding attention. the whole interaction had sobered him up somewhat sure, but not enough to allow chris to maintain composure or even his own dignity.

he sat himself on his bed hurriedly, finally freeing himself and breathing a deep sigh of relief. beginning his methodic strokes, his mind raced with flashes of you. this wasn't new for him. he tried to avoid it but it was hopeless, eventually he had given in to the point of which he now couldn't get off by himself or with anyone else if he wasn't thinking about you.

his soft exhales began deepening into heavy pants and low grunts as his pace increased. "fuck" he whispered lowly, beginning to mutter your name under his breath.

his grip tightened while he mentally flicked between scenarios where it was your hand, or your mouth or your tight pussy that he craved so regularly.

the feeling grew more intense - but it wasn't enough. scrambling for his phone, he opened it and desperately searched for his photos of you. he didn't have any explicit (much to his disappointment) but every photo where your skin was a little too much on show or even just the right angle had been neatly organised into one folder.

he scrolled through observantly, the grip on his phone almost loosening as he lost focus and gave into the increasing pleasure. he let out a moan at a particular photo he'd corrupted with his sick fantasies. it was innocent to the point that even chris had even questioned his own morals due to just how much it turned him on.

he swiped his thumb over his cockhead, admiring the dripping precum. the photo displayed you on chris' lap, sleeping softly and maintaining a grip on his shirt as you relaxed into him. you wore one of his shirts, the folds sat on you perfectly, complimenting the curve of your ass. your tiny sleep shorts allowed your thighs to be on display, positioned either side of his torso as your head rested in the crook of his neck - unaware of the photo being taken as you still were to this day.

his mind was drawn to the idea of you feverishly riding his cock, muttering chris' name with a moan as your eyes shut tightly from the incoming climax. he pictured himself pinning you back down onto the bed and taking control, thrusting deeply into you as your walls clenched around him. he wanted you to beg him to let you cum, gripping his hair as he pressed his lips to your neck before moving down to your collarbone and chest.

he needed to feel you arch into him, shoving his head onto your perky tits as he sucked on them, his tongue caressing the hardened nipple. your moans would highten in pitch as he rode out your high.

his cock twitched in his grasp as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. pleasure ran through his entire body as the white liquid seeped over his fist and crotch aswell as parts of his lower torso.

his body was finally relieved of tension, he relaxed into the feeling, tossing his phone off to the side. he knew that it was wrong to do - especially with you in the same house. but he couldn't help it. not that he exactly tried to. he craved you so intensely, desperate to make you as needy for him as he was for you.

next part ->

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

a/n , this took me way too long for how many words it is lmao but hope yall like it

taglist: @pair-of-pantaloons @oopsiedaisydeer @corspebridedelrey @faiyaz555 @izzylovesmatt @sturniolosrtewsexy @courta13 @sturns-mermaid

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ - mi

[chrissssssmut]

Bro I NEEED a IVE catgirl smut.

PURRING, PANTING, BEGGING (SMUT)

IVE x Male Reader

AN: I hope this one's good! The M reader def just gets the time of his life here XD. Also, happy to be able to put out another story! I'll def do your requests you guys!💗

It had been an exhausting day at work—another shift of paperwork, polite customer service smiles, and an overbearing boss breathing down your neck. You weren’t anything special, just another ordinary guy in a city that moved too fast for its own good. You sighed as you unlocked your apartment door, your body aching for the soft embrace of your bed.

But something was off.

Right before you could step inside, your eyes caught onto a small, unassuming box sitting right at your doorstep. There was no note, no indication of where it had come from. Your brows furrowed as you bent down, hesitating before lifting the lid.

Inside were cats.

Six of them.

Different colors, different sizes, all staring up at you with wide, unblinking eyes. Some meowed softly, one even tilted its head, but they all looked as if they had been waiting for you.

“Who...?” you muttered to yourself.

You glanced around the empty hallway, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever had abandoned them, but there was no one. Just the faint creak of an elevator door closing in the distance. You sighed, rubbing your temple. This was not how you thought your night would go.

Yet, despite the weirdness of it all, you couldn’t just leave them there. You weren’t heartless. With careful hands, you lifted the box and brought it inside, setting it down in your living room.

“Well,” you exhaled, running a hand through your hair. “Guess I have roommates now.”

The next few days were filled with adjustment. The cats were oddly well-behaved, unlike the strays you’d encountered before. They didn’t scratch up the furniture, they didn’t hiss or fight over food, and they all seemed... too intelligent.

That wasn’t even the strangest part.

Each of them wore a lace collar with a name embroidered onto it in delicate cursive.

The sleek, elegant white cat had “Yujin” stitched onto a pristine ivory ribbon. A smaller tabby with golden fur bore the name “Rei.” The black one, the troublemaker, had a dark purple ribbon labeled “Leeseo.” Then there was a gray cat with a regal air named “Gaeul,” a soft brown one marked “Liz,” and a strikingly beautiful feline with a midnight-blue coat named “Wonyoung.”

You thought it was odd. Who abandons cats with name tags so well-crafted?

But you shook the thought away. Maybe some rich family had left them, unwilling to care for them anymore. Whatever the reason, they were yours now.

They followed you everywhere.

They watched you.

And sometimes, just sometimes, you swore you could hear something—whispers, laughter—just barely out of reach.

But you ignored it. Maybe you were just tired.

It happened one night, about a week after you’d taken them in.

You had come home late, tossing your bag onto the couch before heading straight to your bedroom. You collapsed onto the mattress, exhaling deeply.

Then you heard it.

Purring.

It came from under your bed, low and vibrating through the floorboards. A deep, rhythmic sound, steady and soothing, yet oddly human. You blinked against the dim glow of your bedside lamp, your drowsy mind slow to register the sound.

With a sleepy smile, you reached down, expecting to brush your fingers through soft fur, maybe scratch behind an ear.

Instead, warmth. Soft.

And then—

Lips.

Your breath hitched, the sensation jolting you awake like ice down your spine. Lips. Warm. Pressing gently against your fingertips.

Not fur. Not whiskers. Lips.

A slow, deliberate kiss.

Your hand recoiled as if burned, and you shot upright in bed, your heart slamming against your ribs. The purring hadn’t stopped. If anything, it grew louder, reverberating through the room like a low hum of satisfaction.

Your pulse thundered in your ears as you hesitantly peered over the edge of the bed.

And then—

Movement.

A pale hand, delicate fingers curling against the floor, nails dragging lightly against the wood. Then another. Then another. One by one, figures began to emerge from the darkness beneath your bed, their bodies unfolding like shadows stretching in the dim light.

You scrambled back against the headboard, your breath caught in your throat as you watched them crawl out—six girls, each one impossibly familiar. The white-haired one looked at you with knowing amusement, her eyes glinting like moonlight off fresh snow. The smallest of them giggled, her golden curls bouncing slightly as she tilted her head.

Your stomach twisted, your mind screaming at you to make sense of this. Because you knew them.

They were the cats.

No. That was impossible.

But there they were, kneeling at the foot of your bed, gazing up at you like they had been waiting for this moment. Their eyes glowed with something deep, something hungry.

“W-what the hell—”

Yujin—the elegant one, now with long white hair cascading over her shoulders—was the first to speak. “You’ve taken such good care of us.” Her voice was smooth, almost hypnotic. “We wanted to thank you.”

You tried to move, but your body felt frozen. “You—You’re the cats—”

Rei, the small one who had always curled up in your lap, giggled. “Mmm. We are. And we aren’t.”

One by one, they crawled closer, surrounding you. Their touches were soft, their warmth intoxicating. You could barely process what was happening when the first pair of lips pressed against yours.

A fleeting kiss.

Then another.

And another.

You shuddered, eyes darting between them, overwhelmed. “W-why—”

“You’re special,” Wonyoung whispered against your skin, her lips brushing your ear. “You didn’t throw us away. You didn’t ignore us. You cared.”

You swallowed hard. “Is this—Is this some kind of magic?”

Leeseo, the mischievous one, smirked. “Something like that.”

Your breath hitched as their lips met yours again, one after the other, each kiss sending an odd warmth through your body. Your mind screamed at you to run, to question, to do anything but sit there and take it.

But you didn’t move.

They wouldn’t let you.

And deep down, maybe a part of you didn’t want to.

Their hands were warm. Too warm. Soft fingertips traced patterns over your arms, your chest, the fabric of your shirt bunching under their slow, deliberate movements.

“Shhh,” Yujin cooed, her voice smooth as silk. “Don’t be nervous.”

Nervous? That was an understatement.

Rei giggled, her golden hair brushing against your cheek as she leaned in, lips grazing your jaw. “You’re trembling.”

Were you?

Your mind was screaming at you to move—to fight—but your body refused. You were trapped beneath their touch, surrounded by warmth and the faintest scent of something floral, something rich, something undeniably inhuman.

Wonyoung’s fingers ghosted over your collar, toying with the buttons of your shirt. “You took care of us so well,” she murmured, her lips just barely brushing against your throat. “Shouldn’t we return the favor?”

Before you could speak—before you could even think—Liz’s hands slid lower, tracing the hem of your pants. A slow, deliberate tug.

Your breath hitched.

Leeseo smirked. “Aw, look at him.”

“You’re so tense,” Gaeul whispered.

A delicate press of fingers against your waist. A teasing pull of fabric. The sensation of cool air hitting your skin as your pants were slowly—so agonizingly slowly—peeled away.

Yujin tilted your chin up, her smile sharp, predatory. “Relax.”

The room was suffocatingly warm. Maybe it was the way they pressed against you, their soft bodies caging you in, fingers tracing invisible lines over your skin. Or maybe it was the way they watched you—hungry, amused, like they were savoring every second of your unraveling.

Yujin was the first to move, her hand gliding up your chest, nails barely scraping over your skin. “Still so tense,” she murmured, her lips inches from yours.

Rei giggled beside you, her breath hot against your ear. “He’s trying so hard,” she whispered, the amusement in her voice unmistakable. Then—soft, deliberate—her teeth grazed your earlobe, a playful bite that sent a shiver straight down your spine.

You jerked slightly, a strangled noise escaping your throat before you could swallow it down.

“Oh?” Wonyoung smirked, her fingers toying with the waistband of your boxers. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

You opened your mouth—maybe to deny it, maybe to protest—but the words caught in your throat as Gaeul’s hand brushed lower, her touch featherlight over your stomach. Lower. Lower.

A slow, deliberate press of her fingers against your growing need.

You inhaled sharply, body tensing at the contact.

“Sensitive,” Liz hummed, dragging a single fingertip along your hip, her touch maddeningly light. “That’s cute.”

Leeseo tilted her head, eyes glinting with mischief as she propped herself up beside you. “Are you gonna keep pretending you don’t like this?”

Your breath was uneven, your mind struggling to keep up, to make sense of the heat pooling low in your stomach.

Rei giggled again, her lips still ghosting against your ear. “You’ve been so good to us,” she purred. “Don’t you think you deserve a reward?”

And then, as if to emphasize her words, Gaeul’s hand curled around your length—slow, deliberate, her grip just firm enough to make your body tense beneath her touch.

A quiet, satisfied hum left Yujin’s lips as she watched your reaction. “Much better,” she murmured. “Now just relax.”

But how could you?

When they weren’t going to stop until you completely fell apart.

You barely had time to process Gaeul’s touch before something shifted.

A sudden weight against your chest—Yujin, straddling you with effortless grace, her hands pressing down on your wrists, pinning you against the mattress. She wasn’t rough, not quite—but the way she smiled, slow and knowing, sent a shudder through your body.

“You’re so easy to handle,” she mused, tilting her head. “It’s cute.”

You swallowed hard, testing her grip, but she didn’t budge. If anything, her fingers tightened just slightly. Enough to remind you who was in control.

“You shouldn’t fight it,” Wonyoung murmured, her lips grazing your jawline. “Not when you want it this much.”

A soft breath left you—half denial, half something dangerously close to surrender.

And then—

A warm mouth.

Hot. Wet. Wrapped around the thickest part of you in a way that made your stomach clench.

Your breath hitched, eyes snapping downward just in time to see Rei’s golden curls bobbing slightly, her lips sealed around your aching need. She hummed softly, the vibration making your entire body tense.

“R-Rei—” Your voice broke, strangled.

She pulled back just slightly, her tongue flicking teasingly over the tip before glancing up at you with a smirk. “Mmm? Something wrong?”

Before you could answer—before you could even think—another mouth joined her.

Leeseo, the little troublemaker.

Her tongue traced along the underside of your length, slow and experimental, while Rei took the tip back between her lips, sucking lightly. The combined heat, the slickness of their mouths, was unbearable.

“Look at you,” Liz giggled, fingers skimming over your stomach, your chest. “You’re falling apart already.”

Yujin hummed in approval, her grip on your wrists unrelenting. “I knew you’d be fun.”

Gaeul and Wonyoung weren’t content to simply watch.

Wonyoung trailed her nails down your thigh, dragging them ever so lightly. “We should see how much he can handle.”

Gaeul smirked. “I don’t think he’ll last long.”

A sudden, deliberate squeeze at the base of your arousal—Gaeul’s fingers, firm and teasing. You gasped, your body twitching at the overwhelming mix of pleasure and restraint.

“You’re making the cutest sounds,” Leeseo cooed, flicking her tongue just beneath the tip, her breath warm and teasing.

Rei giggled, swirling her tongue before taking you deeper, her throat tightening around your length in a way that made your vision blur.

You clenched your fists against the sheets, your breath ragged.

Yujin tightened her grip on your wrists, pressing them further into the mattress as she leaned in, her lips just barely brushing against your ear. “Stop thinking so much,” she whispered, her voice smooth, intoxicating. “Just give in.”

Before you could even form a response, a sharp sting bloomed against your neck.

Teeth.

Your breath hitched as Wonyoung sucked against your skin, slow and deliberate, her tongue flicking over the spot before she pulled back with a satisfied hum. “Mmm. That’s a good look on you,” she murmured, tracing the fresh mark with her fingertips.

Gaeul followed suit, her lips trailing along your collarbone before biting down just hard enough to make you flinch. “We should cover him in them,” she mused, her breath warm against your skin. “Make sure everyone knows he’s ours.”

Liz giggled, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your chest, her teeth grazing before she latched on. “Don’t worry,” she murmured between kisses, “we’ll be gentle… maybe.”

Rei and Leeseo weren’t nearly as patient.

Rei tilted her head, admiring the marks forming across your skin. “He looks so pretty like this,” she cooed before biting down just beneath your jaw, her teeth sharper than expected.

Leeseo smirked, dragging her nails down your side. “I like seeing him squirm.”

Your breathing came in ragged, uneven bursts, your body trembling beneath them as they took their time, leaving their marks, staking their claim. Every kiss, every bite, sent another jolt of heat coursing through you, leaving you aching, needy, and utterly overwhelmed.

Yujin leaned back, admiring the sight of you beneath her. “Much better,” she murmured, tracing a possessive finger along the marks decorating your skin. “Now, let’s see how much more you can take.”

Yujin sank down onto you in one slow, deliberate motion, taking you to the hilt with an ease that made your breath stutter. A sharp gasp left your lips, swallowed instantly by the smirk curling at hers. She didn’t hesitate—her pace was relentless, rolling her hips with a purpose that left you unraveling beneath her, completely at her mercy.

You moaned, voice breaking as you gasped, ‘Y-Yujin, please… s-slow down…’ But she only smirked, her eyes dark with amusement. ‘Please?’ she echoed, leaning in close, her breath ghosting over your lips. ‘I think you can handle more than that.’ And just like that, she moved even faster, relentless, determined to push you past your limits.

While Yujin moved relentlessly atop of you, the others grew impatient—desperate. Hands roamed, lips grazed, and hungry eyes devoured every inch of you. Some craved your mouth, stealing kisses that left you breathless, while others were drawn lower, eager, insatiable, wanting to claim every part of you for themselves.

‘You can’t just keep him all to yourself, Yujin,’ Wonyoung pouted, her fingers tracing over your jaw before tilting his chin toward her. ‘I want a turn too.’

Rei let out a breathy giggle, her lips ghosting over your neck before biting down playfully. ‘Mmm, he tastes too good to share… but I guess we don’t have a choice, do we?’

Leeseo, practically buzzing with impatience, ran her nails down your chest. ‘I want to hear you beg again,’ she murmured, eyes gleaming as she leaned in, her lips just barely brushing against your own. ‘Think we can make him cry for us?’

Gaeul, ever the composed one, simply smirked as she pressed a kiss against your ear. ‘No need to rush,’ she whispered. ‘We have all night, after all.’

Liz, who had been watching the scene unfold with darkened eyes, leaned down, her voice soft but laced with something dangerous. ‘He’s already falling apart,’ she murmured, her fingers tracing lazy patterns along his skin. ‘I wonder how much more he can take before he completely breaks for us.

You felt your climax building—too fast, too intense. His breath hitched as he gasped, “Y-Yujin, I’m—”

But she only tightened her grip on you, her pace quickening, her body pressing him deeper. “Inside,” she whispered, voice laced with need. “I want all of it.”

That was all it took. The moment your release crashed over you, Yujin moaned in satisfaction, her body shuddering as she took everything you had to give. Slowly, she lifted herself off of you, breathless, her fingers lazily tracing over your chest as she admired the aftermath. You lay beneath her, panting, exhausted, body still trembling from the intensity.

But it wasn’t over.

Before you could fully catch his breath, Wonyoung was already there—her touch deliberate, her movements slow and taunting as she guided you back into her warmth. A teasing hum left her lips as she sank down onto you, her fingers curling against your chest. “You didn’t think we were done, did you?” she whispered, her lips ghosting over your ear.

Then she moved.

Faster. Harsher. Relentless.

Her hips snapped against you, her body taking you with a hunger even Yujin hadn’t shown. But it was her gaze that unraveled you—the way she locked eyes with you, deep and unwavering, a silent demand that he only look at her. “Stay with me,” she murmured, her pace never faltering. “Don’t even think about looking away.”

Your eyes locked onto Wonyoung, dazed and helpless beneath her. She leaned in, her breath warm against your lips, her pace growing impossibly faster.

“Say it,” she murmured, voice dripping with possession. “Say you’re mine… you’re ours.”

Your moans spilled out, uncontrolled, raw—but before he could utter a word, Yujin was there, crashing her lips against yours, swallowing every desperate sound. Her tongue slipped past your parted lips, deep and claiming, while her fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you even closer.

Rei’s lips followed next, warm and teasing against your jawline, leaving a trail of kisses down to your throat before sinking her teeth in just enough to make you gasp. Leeseo wasn’t far behind, her breath hot as she latched onto your collarbone, her tongue flicking out before she sucked hard, determined to leave a mark.

Liz, not to be outdone, pressed kisses along your shoulder, her touch soft but lingering, her breath fanning over your skin as she whispered sweet praises between each press of her lips. Gaeul, slow and deliberate, traced the shell of your ear with her tongue before catching your earlobe between her teeth, giving a playful bite that sent a shiver down your spine.

And through it all, Wonyoung never stopped.

She only moved faster.

Wonyoung’s relentless pace had you on the edge, your body tensing beneath her. But before you could fully succumb, a sudden force pushed her off you—Rei. Desperate, impatient, her eyes burned with hunger as she took control.

“Move over,” she huffed, barely giving Wonyoung a moment to react before she straddled him herself—this time, in reverse.

And then—heat. Tight, overwhelming heat as Rei sank down onto you, taking you in all at once. The new position had your breath hitching, body locking up as the new angle sent shockwaves through your nerves. She wasted no time, rolling her hips with slow, deliberate movements before picking up the pace, the friction driving you insane.

The others didn’t let you catch a break.

“You like this, don’t you?” Leeseo whispered against his ear, her fingers dragging down your chest.

“You’re so tense,” Liz murmured, lips ghosting over your collarbone before sinking down to leave another mark.

“You can’t even think straight, can you?” Gaeul smirked, her nails tracing over your abs, teasing you as if she loved seeing you unravel.

Yujin leaned in last, voice dripping with amusement. “You’re completely helpless….it’s cute.”

Rei was lost in her own pleasure, grinding down on you with reckless abandon—until she wasn’t.

A pair of hands suddenly gripped her waist, pulling her off with little resistance. “You’ve had your turn,” Gaeul murmured, her tone playful but firm. Leeseo was right beside her, eyes glinting with mischief.

Before you could even catch your breath, warmth enveloped you—two sets of lips, two tongues, teasing and claiming every inch of you.

“You taste so good,” Leeseo hummed, her eyes flicking up to meet yours as she let your length rest against her tongue.

“Mmm,” Gaeul smirked, fingers wrapping around the base as she guided you between them. “Look at you, completely at our mercy.”

A soft, wet slap echoed through the room as the tip met their tongues, sending a shudder down your spine.

“Sensitive,” Leeseo teased, eyes dark with satisfaction. “We like that.”

And just like that, you were undone all over again.

You gasped, body trembling as the overwhelming pleasure built inside you. “F-fuck… please… slow down…” you begged, your voice breaking between sharp breaths.

But Gaeul only smirked against your skin, her lips trailing teasingly along your length before pressing a lingering kiss to the tip. “Aww, but you look so good like this,” she murmured, her breath warm against you.

Leeseo giggled, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Why would we stop when you’re reacting so beautifully?”

Then, they moved in sync—faster, deeper, their tongues swirling, their lips tightening around you, slick and relentless. Gaeul took you in deep, her throat constricting around you just as Leeseo’s tongue flicked along the underside, her fingers gripping your thighs to keep you from squirming away.

Every sound, every movement only pushed you further to the edge, and they knew it. They wanted you there.

While Leeseo and Gaeul made it nearly impossible for you to catch your breath, Liz leaned in close, her warm lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, her voice dripping with amusement.

“You know… this is all because of that sweet little heart of yours,” she purred. “Taking us in, feeding us, letting us curl up in your bed… You should’ve known we’d want to repay you.”

She giggled softly, her fingers tracing idle patterns along your heaving chest before she whispered even lower, just for you.

“I bet you’re grateful we can turn back into cats whenever we want,” she teased. “No one would ever suspect that the guy with six adorable pets is actually being fucked senseless by six beautiful women every night.”

She pulled back just enough to meet your dazed, helpless gaze, a wicked smile tugging at her lips. “You really are lucky.”

As your release built to an unbearable peak, the girls knelt before you, eyes gleaming with anticipation. Their breaths were hot, lips parted, waiting—needing.

Gaeul was the first to take you in her grasp, her fingers wrapping around your slick, throbbing length. She stroked you with purpose, her pace merciless, dragging out every shaky breath, every desperate moan.

"Don’t hold back," she murmured, her sultry voice sending shivers down your spine.

One by one, the others leaned in, their tongues flicking out, teasing—wet heat brushing against sensitive skin. Then came the slow, deliberate drips of spit, each of them making sure you were drenched, slick, gliding effortlessly under Gaeul’s skilled touch.

The pressure coiled tight, impossible to fight, until finally—your body tensed, your breath hitched, and your climax hit hard.

It spilled over them, painting flushed skin and eager lips. Wonyoung let out a pleased hum, swiping a finger across her cheek before slipping it between her lips, tasting you with a slow, satisfied moan. Rei giggled as she licked a stray drop from the corner of her mouth, while Liz, smirking, scraped a bit off her chin with her thumb before pressing it against your lips.

"Don’t you think it’s only fair you taste yourself too?" she teased.

You barely had time to recover, your body still trembling, before Yujin’s voice cut through the haze.

"Don’t get too comfortable," she purred, pushing you back down onto the sheets. "We’re not done with you yet."

You collapsed onto the bed, limbs heavy, chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Your body felt like it had been completely drained, every nerve alight with a dull, lingering pleasure. The room was thick with warmth, the scent of sweat and something far more intoxicating hanging in the air.

Your head lolled to the side, eyes unfocused as you tried to process everything that had just happened. The way they touched you. The way they took you. The way they owned you. It was overwhelming—almost surreal.

Your lips parted, your voice hoarse. "W-why...why did that happen?" you murmured, barely able to string together the words. "What the hell was all of that?"

Soft giggles surrounded you, delicate fingers tracing lazy patterns over your chest and arms. Wonyoung leaned in, her lips ghosting over your ear, her voice like silk. "Because you wanted it."

Rei nuzzled against your side, her breath warm against your skin. "Because you needed it."

You swallowed hard, your mind still reeling. A part of you wanted to deny it, to act as if you had no control over what had just unfolded. But deep down, beneath the exhaustion and shock, there was no denying it.

You liked it.

Maybe even craved it.

Your fingers curled into the sheets as you exhaled a shaky breath. "...I don't know what this means," you admitted, barely above a whisper.

Yujin smiled against your skin, her lips pressing into your jawline. "It means you're ours now."

"Close your eyes for us, baby."

The request came in unison, teasing and playful, yet laced with something almost sinister. You hesitated for a second, still trying to catch your breath, but the way their hands gently traced over your skin left you no room to deny them.

With a slow inhale, you let your eyelids flutter shut.

"No peeking," Wonyoung cooed, her fingers ghosting over your lips before pulling away. "Not until we say so."

You swallowed, nodding in compliance. The room went quiet, save for the occasional rustle of fabric, soft giggles, and the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Minutes passed, anticipation curling tight in your stomach.

"Okay, open."

Your eyes slowly blinked open, adjusting to the sight before you—and fuck.

You could barely process what you were seeing.

Six pairs of eyes gleamed at you with mischief, framed by sleek cat ears perched atop their heads. Their outfits clung to them in all the right places—lace, straps, and dangerously short skirts barely leaving anything to the imagination.

Stockings ran up their legs, and you swore you could see the light glint off the tiny bells attached to their chokers.

Your throat went dry.

"Speechless?" Yujin smirked, tilting her head as her tail flicked behind her.

You swallowed hard, mouth opening, but no words formed.

Wonyoung sauntered forward, straddling you with ease, her nails dragging lightly down your chest. She leaned in, lips brushing against your ear as she purred:

"Ready for round two, pretty boy?"

[venusbyline]

GUYS YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!!! I NEED TO RIDE THIS MAN IMMEDIATELY

[sterifels-blog]

warnings ⚠️

•nsfw! 🔞 please do not interact if you are not 18+ ❤️ you are not my responsibility.

creepypasta

REQUESTED: how they'd react if you ask them what their favorite (body) part of you is.

bloody painter

•he would say your hands. he's intrigued by your fingers, as odd as it may seem. not so much the looks of them; but instead the power they wield. "you have such delicate hands for someone so strong... makes me wonder what they could do if they weren't holding a brush." the implication is there— and, it's more of an invitation then a question. he knows what you're capable of- but he thinks he's being smooth about the fact he wants your hand wrapped around his cock.

•soft, but possessive touches: he'll hold your hand in his and trace the lines of your palm with his thumb, enjoying the way your skin feels against his rougher hand. he's not always filthy- infact, he washes his hands more that you're around. he knows you can't stand the feeling of blood smearing all over yours off of his.

•places gentle kisses on your knuckles. he'll press a kiss to your knuckles after you've done something for him, silently showing gratitude in his own way. alternatively; as he's bumping his hips to snap his pelvis tight against your own— more-so panting onto your fingers as he holds them to his parted lips. he's grunting at how good you feel, his brows tight-- and knitted together while placing soft kisses to your fingertips. bro loves you.

•admiring the art of your hands: if you paint (hopefully, with normal supplies), he'll watch you carefully, entranced by the way your fingers move across the canvas. "i like how you create... i like how you touch things."

•okay brother. calm down.

•handcuff scenario: if he's feeling possessive, he might tie your hands just to keep you close, though it's always with a Iight touch, as if savoring the moment. it's that, or he's got you in his lap- your back pressed to his chest as one of his hands keeps your wrists pulled together, and the other is brushing hair out of the way so he can kiss your neck.

•earning affection: "i know these hands could do so much more, if i let you." a quiet invitation to explore.

clockwork

•she'd say your eyes. clockwork has a dark fascination with them, and she isnt shy about making that clear: "your eyes... they've seen more than i can imagine, and yet they still hold something innocent about them." she has no issue with tainting that innocence- although she chooses to cherish it for herself, opting to keep your mind safe and away from others. your eyes only on her.

•intense gaze: she'll lock her eyes on yours, not breaking contact, as if studying you. it's like she's searching for something deep within, and it makes you feel exposed, yet strangely desired. she'll be kissing from your sternum down to your pelvis, her nails dragging along your bare sides as she relishes in the feeling of your fluttering skin against her lips.

•her lip gloss paints your stomach in a shimmery raspberry hue as she kisses your skin, her thumbs digging into your hips as they massage in slow circles.

•she's huge on teasing: "i could lose myself in them, but you'd never let me. you'd just pull away, wouldn't you?" she won't give you much of an option to pull away. she'll have you on your knees in front of her, her hand cupped under your chin as she admires the tremble of excitement that rushes down your spine.

•gentle, longing touches. she gently cups your face, forcing you to keep eye contact "i could make you see things- things you don't want to. but... you trust me, don't you?"

•when you inevitably agree with her— saying that you do trust her, her hands are parting your thighs, shamelessly sighing as her tongue traces lazy drags against your clit and labia. (she's definitely the type to write her name with her tongue, over and over until you're whining for her to do something other than tease. you're not talking at all after that)

•behind-the-scenes power: "if you look away, i'Il only make it worse. keep looking... you're mine, aren't you?"

eyeless jack

•thoughtful to say your throat. jack has an intense interest with your neck/throat. he can't stop staring at your throat, where he knows your pulse beats, so close to the surface- so easy to cut off if he so much as squeezed you hard enough. if he so much as twisted your head quick enough to cause dissection. not that he ever would- no, no. such horrific things are only reserved for his victims- but his medical knowledge often gets the better of him when intimate with your body.

•gentle but dangerous touch. he'll graze his fingers lightly along the curve of your throat, his thumb brushing the side of your neck as though testing your response. he'll hum— his nail digging softly into the prominent vein on the side of your neck, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against it as though smelling the metallic flow from the outer-shell of your skin. he doesn’t say anything, but the way his hand squeezes is word enough. jack loves you, he's made it clear over and over again- but often, he still finds it necessary to remind you that you both are different. un-alike.

•dangerous affection: "i know the veins here so well... it's almost like could just.." he might trail his fingers over your throat, his mind going to darker places as he tightens the grip he has on you to just beneath your chin, tilting your head back with a little groan into your ear. he brushes your baby hairs away from the base of your neck, leaning in to place a kiss against the base of your skull, panting with hearty breaths whilst his hips rut slow, sloppy grinds against the cheeks of your ass.

•alternatively, he’s got your legs kicked apart, his own feet placed between yours as to ensure that you don't try and squeeze them shut. pinned to him, your back against his chest— jack doesn't let you loose as his fingers swirled wide circles around your clit. his teeth graze at your ear, murmuring quietly about how easy you were for him. predictable. and you were.

•teasing whispers: he'll lean close to your ear and murmur, "your pulse is fast... what's got you worked up? it's just me.."

•holds your throat while he's fucking into you from behind.

hoodie

•your ass. zero shame, zero hesitation: hoodie doesn't even try to hide it, "you've got the best ass i've ever seen. why wouldn't i look? you should be flattered."

•he's hands-on at all times. whenever you walk past him, his hand is right there. sometimes, he gives it a playful squeeze, other times a sharp smack that makes you jump. "what? you're the one who walked by me like that."

•you, in fact, didn't even walk by. he's the one who walked by you. too many times, will you give him silence in return for his tomassery– and each time, he does the same thing. he'll come up behind you, apologetically (🤥) sliding his hands down your waist to cup your ass as he presses a kiss to the back of your neck. "you know i'm just teasing.."

•favorite pose? you straddling his lap. he loves when you sit on him, especially facing away so he can rest his hands on your hips— or further down. "you're making it really hard to focus, you know. not that i'm complaining.."

•and he isn't complaining, especially when he’s able to bend you over the counter later that night, groaning and grunting as he 'thanks' you for the meal you'd cooked for him after a long mission assigned by the operator. he's tired, sure; but he always has some extra stamina stored away for times like this. seeing your ass bounce on his hips as his dick bullies against your g-spot is worth every bit of energy he has left.

•constant touching: if you're lying on your stomach, he's lying next to you, his hand lazily draped over your lower back and sliding lower.

•pulling you closer: if you're standing in front of him, he'll wrap an arm around your waist and pull you back against him, hands wandering. "c'mere. you're too far away. yeah, that's better."

jason the toymaker

•your hands

•craftsman’s admiration: “your hands... so delicate, yet so full of life. they could create so much beauty... if i allowed you.” his voice carries both fascination and a subtle possessiveness, enjoying how wrapped around his fingers you were. the innuendo is there, integrated in his words. why would you need to touch yourself when he was there to do all you wished for you?

•very gentle with his touches. he loves to take your hands in his, running his fingers over the smooth skin, almost as if memorizing every line and curve. the type of guy to intertwine your fingers with his own as he keeps your wrists pinned to the bed— huffing against your neck with steady, deep thrusts. loves kissing behind your ear, grumbling about how good you take him- make him feel.

•kisses to your palms. jason has a habit of turning your hand over and pressing slow, deliberate kisses to your palm. “such beautiful hands… wasted on anything but me.” definitely prompts you into giving him a hand job, obsessive over the way your fingers feel curled around him. he thoroughly can't get enough of you, and arm wrapped lazily around your waist as he sits you in his lap for a slow makeout.

•mild.. obsession: he’ll watch you when you’re doing anything with your hands—writing, sketching, even cooking. “it’s mesmerizing, really. i could watch you all day.”

•into playful (but freaky ass) control. jason likes to guide your hands when you’re working on something, his larger hands enveloping yours. “here, let me show you how to do it properly. not that you’re bad at it… i'm just better.” this applies to the bedroom, where he's guiding your hand; curling your fingers only when he allows you to.

•possessive comments: “these hands belong to me, no? no one else gets to feel them, hold them, or be touched by them.”

jeff the killer

•dangerous attraction to your thighs: "your thighs... they look so soft. i bet they'd feel even better wrapped around me." and they do— whether they are clung at the sides of his head, or straddling his hips as he helps you ride him after a particularly high stress day. he loves them more than anything else in the world.

•gentle possessiveness.. he'll casually run his hands over your thighs, his fingers lingering just a little too long as if marking territory. does it especially when you are all sitting in a group. if given the opportunity, he'll have you tucked between him and the arm of the couch, your legs slung over his own so his hand can rub up and down yours.

•plenty of flirtatious teasing: "how tight do you think those legs could squeeze, huh? show me, and i'II make it worth your while."

•when you go about showing him- he makes it a point to keep you at his disposal until you're too satisfied to complain about anything. his tongue is useful for talking— but it is just as skillful when it's dipped between your thighs, running between your folds until you're squeezing his head so tight, he was sure his skull would crack.

•loves giving you kisses to the inner thigh. on a whim, he might press a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, just to feel the warmth of your skin. after a particularly strenuous night of.. events, it's a subtle gesture of appreciation

•"i can't help it. your thighs are just... perfect. i think i could spend all day here, don't you?"

•mock care: if he's feeling particularly mischievous, he'll gently squeeze them and say, "relax. i'Il be gentle. for now."

jane the killer

•playfully seductive: "these hips of yours.. i could write a book about how perfect they are." she smirks as her hands glide along them, leaving goosebumps in her wake. by far, they are the most favorable thing on your body in her eyes- apart from the obvious sentiment of your breasts. she thinks the proportions of them match you perfectly.

•possessive hold. jane has a habit of gripping your hips firmly, puling you closer until there's no space between you- mainly around the others of the household. there is no denying that you're hers- but it is still in her nature to be competitive over that fact, especially with her other-sex counterpart being present. "you feel so good against me. don't think i'Il let go anytime soon."

•slow in admiration. her fingers trace the curve of your hips, almost reverently. "every inch of you is stunning, but this.. this drives me insane." you're hovered over her- sweat dripping down your spine and dampening the roots of your hair as her hands guide you in a rocking motion. they are clasped tightly to your hips, nails, digging into your flesh as she encourages you to tuck in your core. she doesn't mind doing the messy work of bouncing you on her strap, so long as numbs you into that blissful state.

•dually stimulates your clit just to see them buck.

•sultry whispers while standing behind you. she'll lean in, lips brushing against your ear as her sleek nails tickled your hips with repetitive strokes. "these hips were made for my hands, don’t you think? hm?"

•when things heat up, her focus always finds its way to your hips, her kisses trailing along the curves as her grip tightens. "you have no idea what you do to me." jane's eyes linger on your hips like they're the most captivating thing in the world.

kagekao

•your mouth and messy kisses. kagekao loves kissing you- rough, messy, and without warning. he thrives on the way he can leave you breathless and completely flustered. it comes of good use when you two are arguing. you'd been rambling about something- not that he was listening; but he captured the gist of you bitching about how he was leaving the house a mess. guilty— of course he was; but he wasn't going to acknowledge it. "can't talk now, can you?"

•shutting you up: secondary to a kiss, if you're rambling or talking back, he'll cut you off with a hand against your mouth; putting you into momentary silence. it is only when his hand moves to tug at the buckle of his belt do you understand where he is truly going with it. your mouth, around him- is as good as it is while talking. as skillful as your insults- just more quiet apart from the occasional gag to fuel his ego.

•playfully dominant. he's a master of teasing you into silence, brushing his thumb over your lips and smirking. "these lips of yours are dangerous... but i like the way they feel under mine." he's cheesy because he knows it gets you going. you'll cuss him out, commencing a back-and-forth between the two of you. and as much as he enjoys shutting you up— it is, unfortunately, your 'arguments' that get him swollen and tight in his slacks.

•messy control: if you're mid-argument, he'll pin you against a wall and kiss you hard enough to stop the words from coming. "i don't care what you were going to say." he's a bit of an asshole— and when it comes to an actual confliction, you're often pushing him away as to voice your opinion.

•obsession with your voice: he's addicted to the way your lips move when you talk (+ the sound of it), and he often stares shamelessly. "keep talking- let me watch those pretty lips of yours."

•if it's been a while since he's last seen you; and you have the chance to speak to him over the phone, he's 100% not opposed to rubbing one out with you on the line. he'll go silent, listening to you ramble on about something that seems insignificant compared to the raging throb of his erection. mindlessly hums in agreement to something he shouldn't have— and gets startled when you begin scolding him over the phone.

laughing jack

•jack has a shameless fixation on your legs, especially if you're blessed with some extra height. "your legs just go on forever, don't they? makes me want to see how far they can wrap around me." his words are said with a wicked grin, no shame in his tone. if you're smaller, no worries about it— he's still intrigued about how many positions he can wrangle you into, especially with your smaller size being an accommodation.

•loves, loves, loves having you up against the wall. it's not the most practical position- but he has the strength to pull it off. at no point in time will your feet be touching the ground. your legs are slung over his hips, and mercilessly, jack is giving you no time between breaths as he fucks in and out of you. he'd been worked up over a dress you'd worn out with jane; the gap of time from which you returned— to then being railed furiously almost nonexistent.

•the stupid cunt is constant teasing: he'll comment on how your legs look in any outfit especially if they're bare. "oh, you're just showing them off today, aren't you? that's just cruel." he especially loves seeing you in skirts or short dresses. a tight pair of pants will still do justice- outlining your figure, but seeing your skin is an entirely different experience for him.

•obsessive attention. runs his hands along your thighs and calves, almost like he's worshiping them, while making playful, almost mocking comments. "so soft.. are you sure you're strong enough to be here?" he knows you are, he has no sincere doubts that you've earned your place amongst the bunch; but it intrigues him how someone as hard working as yourself could have any aspect of a gentle physic leftover.

•payful biting: he'll nip at your legs from your calvee to your thighs, just to watch you squirm. "what? can't handle a little attention?"

•restless fascination: loves having his head in your lap, running his hands up and down your legs, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "how am i supposed to behave with these perfect legs right in front of me?"

•a good smack to the head will do it.

masky

•masky has an obvious fixation on your breasts. he won't even try to hide it. when you're in close quarters, his eyes are always drawn to your chest, and he'll casually glance at them before meeting your eyes, smirking. "could you be any less distracting?"

•shameless touching: he's the type to casually rest his hand on your chest when in private, grinning like it's the most natural thing in the world. if you're not paying attention, he'll give them a slight squeeze and say, "couldn't resist, sorry." which, is a lie. he's fully capable of resisting- but with you, he doesn't care much to.

•throughly enjoys having you ride him. if not only to see the way your face twists up in pleasure; then, to see the way your breasts bounce with each desperate thrust you chase after.

•loves seeing you in workout clothes— especially something like a workout bra that cups your breasts exceptionally. he'll come up behind you, hands wandering from your sides, and against your ribs to your breasts, his fingers fondling with the under-band of your bra appreciatively. places soft kisses on the back of your neck, humming in approval as he relishes in the sight of his palms engulfing your chest in the gym mirror.

•unapologetic flirting: "look real fucking good in that top. deserve some attention, don't you think?" he'll lean in close, just to make it clear that he's very aware of what he's doing- not that you had any doubts.

•although secondary pleasure wasn't normally accommodated on his schedule (nor does he have a high drive for it)– when you gave him a tit job for the first time; he swore he was knocking on heavens door. he could hardly keep himself from giving in too early- grunting and huffing as he dragged on his cigarette, prolonging his climax for as long as he could. cusses the entire time, groaning about how good you were.

•proximity: when he sleeps, he'll have his face tucked against your collarbone, his arms wrapped around you as his nose divets to your sternum.

slenderman

•control obsession: he’s drawn to your wrists, knowing just how delicate they are and how easily he can take control. he loves— and definitely gets off on the feeling of holding them tightly, guiding you however he sees fit. “your wrists are so fragile... better reason for you to listen"

•possessive in his grip. slenderman will sometimes just stand behind you, his long fingers brushing your wrists in a possessive, almost ritualistic manner, ensuring you feel his presence without him saying a word. he might even trace your veins as if marking them as his own— otherwise, silently reminding you of your merciless place beneath him.

•soft yet firm restraint. if you’re not paying attention, he’ll slip his tendril around your wrists with a cold, firm grip, keeping you in place. his touch is both controlling and almost comforting, as if trying to stake a claim over you that is inevitable. keeps you from moving too much, because it “makes it easier to work with you.”

•tying you up: there’s something about restraining you with ropes or simple threads that bores him. he's more into using his tentacles— wrapping them around your wrists slowly, ensuring it’s just tight enough to restrict movement. it’s a methodical and precise act. “you’ll stay still. you can handle this, can you not?"

•borderline sadistic during intercourse with you. overstimulation is a guarantee— his tentacles cuffing your wrists together as you squirm on the silk of his bedding. relentless. your breaths heave in desperation as his thumb circled your clit for what felt like hellish hours on end, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes that he brushes away with little care- only after they'd began to trail down your cheeks.

•fingers that linger: when he’s guiding you through a task, his fingers press against the soft skin of your wrist, sending shivers up your spine. it’s a constant reminder of his dominance and the way he can bend you to his will with little effort. sits you between his legs and has you ride his fingers, kissing the flat surface of your inner wrist.

•silent manipulation: whether you’re walking or sitting, his hands will often find their way to your wrists. the way his fingers curl around them feels almost hypnotic, leaving you unsure if it’s affection or an underlying threat.

ticci toby

•possessive grip: toby's hands will find their way to your chest, casually gripping them as if it's the most casual thing in the world. he's not gentle, but not rough either— just firm enough to feel like he's marking his territory. "i like having you close. ganz in der nähe" the words may seem innocent enough, but they are the furthest thing from it.

•soft, but intense. if you're in his arms, he'll keep you pressed against him, his hands roaming under your clothes to gently feel and play with you. his breaths hitch as he does, clearly enjoying the closeness more than anything. not being able to feel much- it's intriguing for him to see how you react to something he assumed would feel so insignificant.

•when he figured out you enjoy it- quite a bit, he'll find himself stroking your ribs more often, tracing over your collarbone.

•huffs of approval: when he feels the soft weight of your breasts in his hands, you'll hear him let out a pleased sigh, followed by a low chuckle. "you can't help making these noises when i touch you, hm?" he enjoys them, thoroughly. in fact, it's something he favors, doing whatever he can to pry the sweet sounds from your lips.

•missionary— classical. he's got your back pinned to the bed, one arm wrapped around your spine as he lay a series of open-mouthed kisses to your throat, trailing down to find one of the pebbled nipples of your breasts. the sound of your breathy moan is almost enough to make him brick up again, a low groan leaving his throat as his lips engulfed your tit with gluttony. he could worship you like this for hours- but not without his own share of enjoyment.

•light teasing: if you react to him touching you, even just a little, his grin widens. "i know you like it. you don't need to hide it." he'll lean in close, letting his breath ghost over your neck. there's nothing he enjoys more than getting a reaction out of you— and it severely agitates him when you silence yourself.

•insecure softness: as unhinged as he may seem, he can get a little soft about it, too. "i just... i need you close, okay? don't push me away." he's not one to beg, but there's something desperate in his voice when he holds you like this. loves having you against his chest, feeling your bare skin pressed against his own.

[2-dsimp]

Hear me out... Yan priest with a non believer reader....like just imagine....Yan priest"you don't believe in heaven huh...then I'll take you to heaven...then continued to 💥 her....

Cw: 🔞NSFW MDNI🔞 Fem reader! Throatpie, coercion, corruption, dubcon, religious aspects, creampie, cum shower, slight humiliation, degradation, praise, overstimulation, Zebad turning you into a true believer

—————/—————/—————-/————/———

Zebad sighs in contentment as he watches you collapse onto the altar, his wet slick and cum covered shaft slipping out of your overused cunt with a wet pop. He takes a moment to admire your body, feeling his own softening member hardening with avengeance as he sees the marks and bruises he so graciously bestowed upon your skin. Before he quickly flips you over, ripping off your top with a gentle smile.

"Mmm, my lost Dove~ did this prayer session help to enlighten you by chance?"

The Priest hums with a twisted expression on his face confronting the non believer gasping for breath within his holy sanctum. Right before the lords eyes of the marble statue which stood tall above them and judged with a solemn stare.

He reached out a hand to firmly grasp onto your hair, his rock hard cock hovering near your lips. While he smacks his meat against your face, before nudging the tip of his leaking fat tip against your lips smearing it with your collective love juices from prior rounds.

"Oh how precious you are my dear, your pretty head looks as if it’s all empty inside. Allow me to fill it with something meaningful"

The Priest coos lovingly before he shoves his penis into your mouth, forcing it down your throat. He can feel your gag reflex kicking in, but he doesn't care. This was meant to teach you a lesson on how not to turn your back on the gracious blessings. That the lord could bestow to you if you’d just let your heart open fully to the wonders of the teachings he gives…

In all honesty Zebad was bullshitting about his preaching for a god he didn’t even have half a mind to remember the name of. He couldn’t care less about said god nor did he fathom entertaining the prestige beliefs of his pious church brethren. Why would he spend time trying to convert you into worshiping the lord when he could make you revere him as your sole savior.

"That's it, Love suck just like how we’ve practiced. Being such a good girl for me"

He purrs continuing to thrust into your mouth, his balls rubbing against your face as he uses you for his own pleasure. Grinning with satisfaction as he feels your fingers wrap around his thick length, your mouth still wrapped around it like a newborn. The corrupt holy official could feel his cock twitching with impatience, eager for your attention. He starts to buck his shaft inside your salivating mouth, relishing in the moist heat of your tongue sliding back and forth on his foreskin.

Yes, he’d make you utterly reliant on him for the rest of your days. Spend his sweet time training you, molding you into his perfect believer who’d only get on their knees and revere him as both your lover and guiding light to damnation. He alone would encompass the entirety of your mind, body, and soul.

"You’re gonna learn to accept me as your lover and savior and become an obedient bitch for me yes?"

Zebad coaxes with an sugarcoated timbre whilst he continues to rock his pelvis against your face, his body wracked with pleasure as he feels himself getting close to cumming again. He can ascertain how much your esophagus was tightening around his dick, making his balls twitch from the sensation. Of how he knows that you're so eager to please him.

"Oh what a delectable sheep you are, my darling~ so docile and compliant for me."

The Priest pants as he finally drives his shaft to the hilt, smacking his balls up against your drooling face. He lingers there for a moment, enjoying the tightness of your throat around him as you gag. He can feel his cum building up inside of him, and he knows that he's getting close to the edge.*

"Fuck, Dove, go on and take it! Take your lord and saviors cum like the good believer I know you are."

He starts to flood your taste buds with the peculiar taste of his gummy sperm, making you gag even more. The amount is too much for you to handle, so he spills the rest of his cum all over your tits and face in white beady rivulets. He grins with satisfaction as he watches his cum dripping down your body.

"Mmm, you look so beautiful covered in my cum perhaps I should make you walk around in it all day. And make it test of your faith towards me wouldn’t you say?”

Zebad goads, his voice low and seductive. Paired along with a devilish smile that was present on his face full of infatuation and obsession for his poor little sheep that wandered helplessly into his clutches.

[insomniadreamzz]

Hey, how are you? I wanted to request G!P Jinx x Reader. Imagine that the reader is Jinx's girlfriend and they have unprotected sex and then Jinx gets the reader pregnant? Something like the reader being afraid to tell Jinx and she freaks out about it and stuff like that… Could there also be smut at the end and fluff too? Please, I've never seen that around here 😮‍💨

Helloo! Thank you I am perfectly fine. Today is my birthday and I am actually busy but I LOVE this request so I had to write it down today 👀

———

My everything

G!P Jinx x Fem!Reader

Smut, mentions of pregnancy, fluff

The last days you felt kinda off, your emotions were like a rollercoaster and you got more sensitive. Jinx realised this too, making her feel a little worried about you. Since she had mental issues herself, she always questioned if she did something wrong, making the situation between you both get a little more complicated.

„Is everything okay my love? It’s your third plate of food today. I don’t mind it at all but…I am worried if something is bothering you. You know you can tell me anything right? You do trust me do you?“ Jinx asked as you were about to finish your food, your gaze moving up to look at her, a little smile on your face. „Of course I do trust you. You are my girlfriend after all. I just feel more hungry than usual these days, nothing to worry about.“ You tried to reassure her but she felt something was still off.

The next days your behavior went on, you also felt nauseous out of nowhere which made you realise that you might be pregnant. Last time you and Jinx got intimate you didn’t use protection which was a little silly of both of you but to be honest you didn’t really realise she would get you pregnant that fast. Whatever…if it was true and you carried her child, how to tell her? You suddenly worried about her reaction, close to panic but before your mind will make you freak out you decided to make a test first and then you will have to figure something out.

Thankfully Jinx wasn’t in her hideout today, she went out to probably blow something up again. You always had to worry about her when she wasn’t around but right now you were glad she wasn’t home so you could do the test without her knowing and just how you thought, it was positive. „Fuck…“ You cursed under your breath, feeling a little overwhelmed. Of course you were happy since having a family with your girlfriend was your biggest dream. But so sudden? It just made you think about a lot of stuff like are you even ready for it? Is Jinx ready for it? Will she be happy? Or will she be upset? You didn’t know since you never talked about that topic before.

One thing was clear. You had to tell her. Jinx already blamed herself for not treating you right anymore to explain your behavior. You noticed her anxiety getting worse these days but now you had a valid explanation for your latest behavior. Maybe that would calm her down and stop blaming herself?

There was not much time of thinking about how to explain to Jinx as you heard her walking into the hideout, a happy smile on her face as she catched your sight, you quickly hiding the test behind your back, wishing you already removed it and didn’t stare at it all the time while having a little discussion with your own mind about the result. „Hey toots!!“ She said with her usual wuirky behaviour you loved so much but she did notice you hid something behind your back. „What ya hiding there?“ She asked and you began to blush deeply, not being able to find the right words or to speak at all. „I-…“ You started but she cut you off by snatching it out of your hand. Why did you hide it anyways? You knew Jinx was too fast for you to even react when she tried to get it out your hands.

Her eyes widened when she saw what you were hiding, not knowing how to react. You bit down on your own lower lip, feeling nervous, scared she would be upset. „You are…“ She started, looking into your eyes with a soft gaze, you only nod in response which was enough for the blue haired girl to freak out but in a positive way. „Oh my god! My girl is pregnant!“ She squealed, being all jumpy and giggly, talking to herself about all the things she wants to do and build as she paced around the hideout before she stopped right in front of you, placing a lot of soft kisses on your lips. „I love you so much!“ She said in between the kisses before pulling back to look into your eyes again, you felt so relieved. „Jinx…are you happy?“ You asked just in case as if her reaction wasn’t enough. „Are you kidding me?! I am! I am the happiest my love!“ She reassured you, taking your hands in hers as she gently rubbed them with her thumbs. „I-I know I am chaotic and I know the things I do are weird and dangerous, making me question if I can do this right but…but I want it! I wanna take care of you both and make sure you will always feel loved.“

Her words made you feel so soft. You didn’t expect her to be this passionate about that topic but you loved it. You loved her. Her eyes got a little watery, the more she realised it, the more emotional she got. „I-I thought I did something wrong. I thought you stopped loving me but…but the real reason you behaved like this…it’s such a beautiful reason.“ Jinx voice was very soft and a little shaky as she let tears of happiness run down her cheeks and so did you. You couldn’t hold back your own emotions anymore as well, feeling so happy as well that she wasn’t upset about it. „I could never stop loving you…how could you even think that?“ You asked but in return she just kissed you again, this time more deeper and passionately as she made you lay down on your back. Right now she just wanted to feel you and give you her love, her tongue moving inside your mouth, making you gasp softly in return.

Both of you felt aroused by the deep kissing, your hormones being all over the place made you feel hornier than usual so it was obvious you wanted her and you showed it as your hands gently pulled on her pants, making her smirk into the kiss. „Heh…you want me don’t you?“ She hummed and you nodded. „Yes…yes please I need you.“ You almost beg for her to fuck you and of course she won’t deny you.

It didn’t took you long to be all over each other again, her marking your body with kisses and little gentle bites while her cock moved inside of you, her pace being slower than usual, making you chuckle a little. She must do that on purpose which was cute. „Hnn…you know you can go faster do you?“ She looked down at you with a soft gaze, you knew she didn’t want to do anything wrong but you reassured her. Jinx behavior was just so sweet. „Ah…yes I know of course.“ She said but you knew she was being careful now because she knew you were pregnant. After your reassurance she thrusted faster inside of you as she held your hips gently, going deeper as usual, losing herself into the pleasure just like you. Both of you being a moaning mess. „Fuck…I am close…“ She moaned out and you kept her close to you by wrapping your legs around her waist, making sure she won’t pull out. „M-me too…cum inside me please.“ You whined, her hips didn’t stop moving, moaning out loudly when she came and at the same time you reached your orgasm as well, feeling her fill you up with her cum, making both of you feel so good.

Both of you panted softly, her leaning down to kiss you again so lovingly. „You make me the happiest…“ She whispered. „And you make me the happiest.“ You answered with a soft smile, caressing her cheek as you both looked into each others eyes with so much love.

(Fluff bonus)

„Hey that tickles!“ You giggle softly as Jinx painted little hearts and other little cute stuff on your baby bump. „What? You’re my beautiful canvas.“ She teased by sticking her tongue out, a giggle leaving her own lips. She just loved doing these sweet little things with you.

„Who knows maybe our little one will be as creative as you?“ You mentioned, making Jinx smile more. „Maybe who knows?“ She answered before leaning down to place a kiss on your tummy and then nuzzling close to it. „I love both of you so so much you don’t even know…“ Her words so soft, almost like a whisper as she stayed close to you. „And we love you. Always and forever.“ You gently caressed her beautiful blue hair, making her smile as she closed her eyes and eventually feeling your little one kicking for the first time.