#that i managed to wriggle my way in. just for a moment.

[trashpremiium]

hm. having a moment

[nereidprinc3ss]

bambi

in which spencer reid and fem!reader fuck like they missed each other (because they always do) and he teases her for her shaky legs

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom spencer, piv sex (riding, a first for nereidprinc3ss) /oral f receiving (in that order) mentions of him accidentally grabbing her hips too hard, slight somno SORT OF like he starts going down on her while she’s sleepy and then she kind of goes in and out but its all consensual, sorry haters i fucking love sleepy sex and I always will, teasing, lots of praise, fluffy, established relationship, he loves her badddd, aftercare, literally nothing bad happens no angst for once they just are having sex cause they are in love which is arguably the most superior kind of sex! a/n: I don’t think I’ve ever written smut that is so wham bam thank you ma’am like really we just get RIGHT into it!! also no gif no pics we r going old nereidprinc3ss on this one I hope you loveeee!!!

You roll over onto Spencer and kiss once, long and deep and sweet. He hums into it, too whipped to pretend like he’s got self control or respect, hands finding the soft skin of your bare waist and settling there. 

How it got to this point so quickly, no more than fifteen minutes after he walked through the door, you can’t say. Usually the two of you are a bit more domestic when he gets home from a case, but eight days is a long time to be apart, and the trail of clothing leading from the welcome mat to the foot of the bed attests to that. 

So does the lack of teasing, of begging—at least, a lack up until this point. Right now, there’s only him, patient and content to let you play at being in charge. You pull back and reach down to grab him gently, aligning him at your entrance with a trembling hand. This part, you’re not usually responsible for. 

He assures you with a hand to the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles. “You got it. Slowly.”

You do as he says, brow furrowing in focus as you sink down an inch or two onto him. Spencer’s breathing grows erratic as you take more and more of him, and in a heroic display of overachieving, you take the rest of him at once with nothing but a squeak. He laughs breathily as his fingers dig into your hips. 

“Fuck—I said slow.”

You can’t think. The overwhelm of it all is too much as you crumple forward onto his chest. The subtle rocking you’re doing to try and alleviate some of the pressure in your core is apparently too much as he stops you by the hips, fingers pressing into those same tender spots.

Spencer’s breath is ragged. “Don’t… do not move.”

“Fuck,” you breathe into his shoulder, long and drawn out as despite his wishes you wriggle around, trying to get comfortable. “Oh my god.”

“My lovely girl, please… please don’t move,” Spencer gasps, a plead, and you try to stop for him, nuzzling even deeper against his neck. “I need a minute.”

“It’s too much,” you slur, dizzy as you try to adjust to the feeling. “Please.” You don’t know what you’re asking for. Maybe relief from the sensation that he can’t offer you. Maybe more. 

Spencer is undone by you—the way you writhe on top of him, the way your voice shakes, the way you’re so totally and completely overwhelmed and he can feel it and he loves it. 

“Baby,” he breathes, and he meant to say a lot more than that, but it’s the best he can manage when he is this overstimulated. “Baby,” he whispers again, wrapping his arms around you in an effort to ground you, to give you something else to focus on as you both get used to the feeling. 

It’s going well—for a moment, before your back is arching. 

“Spence, I need to move, I can’t—”

“Okay, okay.” He takes a deep breath, returning his hands to your waist and mentally preparing himself not to cum early. He’s desperate to give you want you want, to feel you like this. “Go ahead. Move, honey. Please.”

By the time you slowly lift your hips up and drop back down with a low cry, Spencer’s lost. His head falls back against the pillow and his eyes squeeze shut. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Oh, angel, I missed you.”

You do it again, motivated by his praise, and he can hear your little gasps and desperate gulps of air. 

“I missed you so much,” you whine and clench around him, pleasure so intense it’s a resounding ache in the far reaches of your body. “Oh, fuck, Spencer.”

Spencer shivers. He loves when you make it personal, when you say his name like that and it becomes clear this isn’t just about the physical.

“My girl. Just like that. Doing so well, baby, just like that.”

Each pass of your hips has you whining. Your lips skim over his neck, not cognizant enough to actually kiss—only to know that you want the contact. 

“Please can I go faster?”

Spencer almost doesn’t realize you’re speaking to him he’s so lost in pleasure. The idea of faster is as compelling as it is troublesome. Spencer doesn’t know if he can’t take faster, not when he has you like this, but he certainly wants to find out. 

“Yeah, lovely. Do whatever feels good.”

You readjust and begin to pick up the pace, stumbling over a few false starts as it’s clearly more sensation than you’d been prepared for. 

Spencer, on the other hand, has his eyes screwed shut tight, and is attempting to draw a two-dimensional Császár polyhedron on your back, but he loses his place with every twitch of your hips, so eventually he decides to trace imperfect Mandelbrots down your spine—anything to avoid thinking about how the pH of your body interacts with sweet vanilla perfume to create a scent so deeply intoxicating he’d leave his entire life behind just to trail after it, or how you fucking feel against him, on top of him, around him, how miraculous it is that you keep letting him touch you—

“Oh—” you whine quietly, a strangled sort of noise that has his heart skipping. Your hand tangles desperately in his hair as you rock your hips faster and faster and he lets out a tortured groan. “Spencer, oh my fucking god.”

“I know, baby,” he manages, endeared by the fact that you feel so good you have to share it with him. Even now you’re trying to explain it because you want him to be part of it—as if he doesn’t know exactly what you’re feeling already. “That feels good, huh?”

“Mm—f—eels—” you cut yourself off with a cry into the crook of his neck, and he holds the back of your head, vision greying as he stares unseeing at the ceiling because if he looks down this’ll be over too soon. 

“You’re so good,” he breathes, “you’re perfect.”He hears you gasp at the same time as your rhythm falters, and presses a kiss somewhere indiscriminately on your head. “Gonna cum?” He murmurs in your ear, and you nod desperately, rutting against him hopelessly as your thighs tremble from exertion. 

Even the smallest drop-off in friction has his head spinning like he stood up too quickly, so he gives himself enough leverage to start fucking you. You cry out and shift your weight like you’re going to try and evade the feeling—self-sabotage, you always do this—and he again has to hold your hips in an iron vice, just to force you to feel it. 

“You’re okay, I’m gonna get you there.”

“Fuck!” You very nearly yell, still trying to wriggle away up until the very last second like the tide going out before the tsunami comes. When you do cum, your demeanor instantly changes—you get heavy and clingy and whiny as you rock back and forth through your orgasm. 

“Good girl,” Spencer murmurs, being careful in the way he continues to fuck you until he reaches his peak as well, not long after. You shudder, and Spencer feels the way your entire body tenses the way it sometimes does after a particularly strong orgasm, and he fights his way out of the brain fog to rub your back with the skimming tips of his fingers. “Shh. You’re okay. Relax, baby.”

And you do, unwound by the dance of his hand and with a few shallow breaths that gradually deepen, until you’re once more slack on top of him. 

“You’re incredible,” he exhales, with his lips pressed to your hairline. 

So clearly overwhelmed, the only response you can muster is a soft squeak. Spencer laughs fondly, still mapping the soft curve of your back. He feels the way you’re still attempting to train your breathing and kisses your hair again. “What do you need, angel?”

“I’m s’posed to be taking care of you,” you slur. Spencer chuckles again and his brow knits. 

“According to who?”

“According to… I was on top…”

“Yeah. You did all the hard stuff. Your legs are shaking.”

You whine softly. “No they’re not.”

His hand slides down to your thigh, and he rubs the trembling muscles. 

“No? No Bambi legs for me this time?”

You squeeze them around his waist like you could shrink away from his touch. “Spence…”

“I’m teasing you, honey,” he murmurs, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “You’re cute.”

“Hm.”

“Look at me,” he murmurs, angling his head expectantly as you slowly raise yours. The look on your face is so sweet—eyes half lidded, lips swollen and much higher in color than usual. Your cheek is warm to the touch. His heart flutters like it did on your first date, and the first time he kissed you, and the first time you fell asleep on his shoulder. This view will never get old. “Wow. Look at you, beautiful girl. Can I have a kiss?”

And you grant him his wish, with a long, soft kiss that’s worth every second of that burning feeling in his lungs, every time. 

Eventually you huff out the remainder of your air against his well-kissed lips and your head flops to his chest. 

“I’m sleepy.”

“So go to sleep,” he murmurs, so warm from your kiss he feels nothing could be wrong in the world at this moment. 

“I can’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“’Cause you just got home ’nd I missed you and I wanna spend time with you.”

“We have three days to spend together. If you go to sleep now, we’ll actually get more time together tomorrow.”

“But it’s more about, like, how it feels—how much time it feels like we spend together right when you get home, and if I go to sleep now, it’s gonna feel like less time, and—basically you’re just not understanding my math.”

“What math?” He laughs, continuing to rub your legs all the way up to your hips, at which point you hiss and buck—a very visceral feeling when he’s still inside of you. “What? What hurts?”

“You tried to fucking tear my hip flexors from my body, is what hurts,” you grumble. 

“Tender?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m really sorry, angel. Tylenol?”

“Mm-mm. Can you kiss me better?” Sleep stains your voice. Spencer smiles to himself. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Lie down.”

Again you whine as you slip off of him, landing heavily on your back. He sits up, watches with so much affection the way you squeeze your thighs together and arch ever so slightly against the empty feeling. 

“Spencer?” You whisper as he cups the top of your knees. 

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

He pushes your legs apart gently so he can settle in between them and kisses you again. “I love you. So much.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

He presses a kiss to your head, down your neck, taking the scenic route to your hip bones, but you don’t seem to mind. 

The feeling of his lips gentle on the tender flesh has you humming softly, eyes fluttering shut as he showers you with gentle kisses. His traces every place his fingers had pressed earlier—feels the way you relax further underneath him. Nobody’s ever let him in this deeply before, but you trust him with everything you have; your body, your soul, in life or death, awake and in sleep. He’ll never take that for granted. He will never pass on an opportunity like this, to be the one who takes care of you, who puts you back together, as long as you’ll let him. 

Still dancing the line of consciousness, you part your legs, the slow drag of your bare thigh like a jumper cable to his heart. Fingertips trace desirous paths up your inner thigh and back down again. He recognizes this invitation for what it is, and he knows exactly how to give you what you want, but he asks first anyway. 

“Was that on purpose?”

“I d’know what you mean. I’m so sleepy,” you slur, and he believes the second half of your statement to be fact. 

Spencer pushes your thigh a little higher, and you’re completely pliable for him, completely gorgeous. As soon as he skims your thigh with a barely-there kiss, exactly the way you like, you’re lacing a hand in his hair. 

“Please, Spence…” you murmur, and he can’t argue with that. He especially can’t argue when you widen your legs just that slightest bit more, and your arousal is opalescent between your legs. 

He hums, trailing more kisses up until he’s setting the softest one yet against your clit. “Beautiful girl…”

The following gasp is so tiny he could’ve missed it if he wasn’t so attuned to your noises—and then he gets lost in you, making sure to keep his ministrations light as you already came twice recently and are sure to be sensitive. He doesn’t want to wake you from whatever twilight half-slumber trance you’re in, either, sensing that if he does you’ll fight all over again to stay up.

And admittedly, he adores being trusted to take care of you like this.

Your back arches as much as you’re capable of in this state, and he can’t help the way he just barely suctions onto you at that moment, coaxing a sighing moan so sweet and vulnerable and open it gives him chills. Fuck. He really wants to make you cum. But instead he practices patience, tracing you with the tip of his tongue, pressing gentle kisses everywhere you need them—he draws it out. For he doesn’t know how long. 

The first time you get close, your hips begin to roll, and you spout little ah’s, but he talks you back down again, laughing lightly at your angelic cooing, your little sounds of sleepy pleasure. Even now you’re so responsive, moving against his mouth as he slips a finger into your soaked entrance, fucks you for a moment, and then retreats. Maybe he’s being unfair, but you don’t seem to mind. 

In fact, you’re slipping in and out of sleep as he devours you for what feels like hours, one hand pressed lovingly to your stomach, stroking the soft skin there. Spencer’s never had this long to explore you with his mouth and he takes full advantage of every moment, but he keeps all his kisses and licks and touches gentle and reverent and so loving. 

You don’t know how long it’s been, or how many times he’s made you cum when he finally retreats—you half-wake just as he’s finishing cleaning you up. Soon he tosses the towel aside and presses feather-light kisses to each of your cheeks, tear-stained and warm with pleasure. You feel completely drained and completely loved. 

“Hi, sleeping beauty,” he murmurs, climbing into bed with you, at some point having gotten dressed. 

You manage an embarrassed little laugh. More tears crawl down your cheeks as you roll to your side. Spencer brushes them away and pulls you into him, slinging your thigh over his waist. He chuckles. 

“Shaky?”

“Stop,” you whine, embarrassed by his teasing, and hide your face against his chest. “That’s not my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault. It’s sweet,” he insists as he rubs your back. And then, a moment later, “So—do you think we’ve spent enough time together for tonight?”

“No.”

He sighs good-naturedly. 

“You’re gonna wear me out, you know that?”

“’F you… can’t handle the heat… get outta the kitchen.”

When he next speaks you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Go to sleep, Bambi. Let’s see if you can walk in the morning.”

[toxicanonymity]

DOMESTICATION

MR. GHOSTFACE x F!READER 🔪 1.8K WORDS SUMMARY: He has his way with you while you're stuck. WARNINGS: 18+ Noncon, unsafe PIV, knife/blood, collar. Inspired by this scene and ask 🔪 Divider 🔪 MY FICS

Down on all fours like the prey you were, you tore the cloudy, plastic flap off its hinges and began to squeeze through the little door. You thought to scream but choked on the air you drew in. With your head through the hole, you coughed and glanced around. No one in sight. Fallen leaves tumbled and scraped across the driveway over the muffled sounds of the party.

No one was coming to save you.

You managed to wriggle halfway out, but no further. In the process of trying, your skirt got all bunched up. The cool air of the garage was hitting your ass, and your lace panties with their heart shaped cutout were doing nothing to help.

He had to be enjoying this. Probably admiring his knife with a smug tilt of his mask. Why was he so quiet?

You stopped struggling, taking a moment to catch your breath and think. He should've caught you by now. Was there any chance he left the garage? Any chance he wouldn't kill you?

He didn't have a habit of leaving them alive.

When you began to struggle again, a weak motor droned awake, making your stomach drop. The garage door began to lift, and the bottom edge of it dug into your stomach. Your heart sank with dread. Within seconds you’d likely be dead or mangled. Seconds, IF you were lucky. The thought of him dragging out your demise was even worse. You had seen his crime scenes.

Your knees lifted off the ground as the door made its ascent.

“Please,” you begged, shoes sliding against the floor.

The garage door creaked as it came to a halt. Your feet pedaled in futility, searching for the floor. You lifted your chest, trying to wriggle backwards. The only way out of this cursed little door-–if there even was a way out-–led right to his knife.

“Please, please, I won't run. I'll be good,” you begged through tears.

Silence. Unlike him.

“I'll be good,” you repeated quieter. "Please, Mr. Ghostface."

The motor started again, and you winced. But the door began to lower, allowing you a moment of relief as your bare knees met the cool, smooth floor.

His footsteps got louder and clearer as he crossed the space. Despite being unable to see him, you knew his presence loomed behind you-–you could feel it in your bones.

Sure enough, two gloved hands gripped your thighs, lifting your lower body for a moment and spreading your legs before setting your knees down further apart.

He made a place for himself between your knees, spreading them even wider. The smooth fabric of his robe pooled over your legs with him between them. He ran his gloved hands up your torso from your hips to your waist, pushing your skirt up further so it was up around your navel. Then, two satin thumbs lightly brushed your skin, tracing the heart-shaped cutout of your underwear.

After a moment of rustling behind you, a gloved finger slotted between your panties and ass. He pulled the garment out from your body, then the elastic tension released with a slice of his knife.

More rustling. His movement made the robe graze your butt. You weren't sure if you were imagining the sound of his belt coming undone behind you, but the thought of it made your face heat up.

The heavy fabric of his robe lifted off your calves, removing any doubt about what he was about to do. You tried to ignore the way your pussy throbbed.

The smooth head of his cock nudged your entrance, then slid wetly along your slit, forward and back. You hadn't realized just how aroused you were until feeling cock glide so smoothly against your well lubricated cunt. The head lingered at your front, nudging just the right spot. Your hips tilted all on their own, and he paused before sliding back to your wet little hole, resting the curve of his tip just inside.

He gripped your hips and pushed forward, intruding into your tight, warm sleeve with his thick, hard cock. Inch by inch, his stiff manhood pushed its way into you, the pressure of his girth pushing the breath out of your lungs. He slid all the way in without much difficulty and paused after bottoming out.

You took a much needed breath.

The skin of your chest radiated warmth. Your whole upper body was hot, despite the cool air.

Your lower body was warm and stuffed.

Two big, gloved hands wrapped around your thighs, then lifted. Your body lurched forward as far as it could, then he pulled you back on him, bottoming out deeper before he let your weight back down.

You braced your forearms on the driveway and he moved his hands up to hold your hips. He withdrew most of his length then squeezed your hips and pulled you back again as he slammed all the way back in. This wasn't bad… he was slow, almost careful.

Almost as though he could hear your thoughts, he seemed to drop all restraint. He buried his cock in you at a steadily increasing pace. You were shaken by just how good he felt inside you.

You bit your arm to stifle your moans, but it was no use. He'd have to hear your sounds of pleasure, as humiliating as it was. You removed your mouth from your bicep, leaving a string of spit as you took a deep breath.

As you inhaled the night air, it smelled like someone was having a bonfire... Someone, somewhere had come outside. Maybe even the neighbors.

But you didn't cry for help.

It was as though the cock in your cunt had gagged your throat, paralyzing you. It couldn't be that you didn't want him to stop, could it? No, you told yourself.

With every thrust, it felt more like a lie.

The rhythm of his pounding made your breasts jiggle. Your arms and wrists rubbed against the driveway, but you hardly felt it. Any discomfort was drowned out by the pleasant stretch of his girth, and the grip of your pussy clinging to his length as it pushed through you.

You closed your eyes and went somewhere else, giving into the feel-good chemicals coming to boil in your blood. You couldn’t tell how much of it was the rush of survival and how much was his dick, but the combination had you hurtling toward the stratosphere. Full, you were packed full. God, it felt good. Even better, the more you let yourself feel it.

There was something freeing about completely submitting to his will. Letting him use you like a fucktoy. Giving in, letting him win, you could relax and let it all wash over you. With your body held in his hands and wrapped around his cock, you felt weightless. There was no longer pressure to fight back or flee. The only pressure was low in your gut, building toward something unthinkable. Closer with each heavy stroke.

You spasmed with a whimper.

He abruptly sped up to jackhammer pace, pushing you to the brink within seconds. You rode that edge for longer than you thought anyone could keep up that pace. You remembered to breathe, and then you saw stars. The hair on your neck stood up as you clung to the ethereal force that rippled through your loins. Pleasure shot through your core to each limb.

He slowed down as you clenched around him, then bottomed out deeper. It was like he’d created more space in you and packed it with more cock than you ever thought you'd take.

Until the warmth began to spread inside, you didn't realize he was coming. He had given no outward indication of it. You could hardly distinguish your throbbing from his, until yours faded and he was still twitching.

The grip of his hands eased up as he finished. He held you with your ass flush against his wiry hair, anchoring you. Plugging you.

After a minute, it started to feel colder outside. You felt more exposed, vulnerable, but still dared to imagine he might leave you alive.

One hand let go of you, and his robe shifted, brushing the back of your thigh. He pulled back your ruined underwear again. This time, he cut through the side and took it all the way off. Then, the surprisingly warm flat of his blade pressed against the side of your butt cheek. It slid up over the curve of your flesh.

Your heart pounded, reminding you to fear for your life.

The metal left your skin, only for the point of the blade to then prickle the center of your lower back. He held you still, and his cock twitched inside you as he began to draw blood.

You pleaded, “don't," but your insides throbbed.

A sharp, white heat followed the blade, curving upward, out, and down toward your crack. He repeated it on the other side to complete the heart. Your ears burned and pounded with their own pulse. Your inner ears began to ache.

Finally, his cock slid out of you, and after a moment of jostling, he got out from between your legs. Then, facing your side, his robe grazed your back as he hovered over you and grabbed hold of your waist. He tugged gently. You extended your arms in front of you and held them together as he pulled you back into the garage. warm blood trickled into your crack as you sat up. His gloved thumb smeared it upward.

Clear snot was coming out of your nose. You sniffed and he wiped that too, with a knuckle.

Holding his knife, he showed it to you as he stood up. He crossed the garage in just a few strides while you obediently sat back on your knees, adjusting your bra and fixing your hair.

He returned with his hands full.

Your face fell blank when you looked up to see a collar with a leash hanging off it. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. He tilted his head, then stooped down to reach around your neck and fasten the it. The arms of his robe created a curtain of darkness as he adjusted the buckle and tested the tightness with two fingers between it and your neck.

He stepped back, holding the leash, and tilted his mask, waiting. There was something else in his other hand. He clicked it, then tossed it aside as the garage door began to rise. He reached down and helped you up. Then, he walked you down the driveway and into the night, with a warm mess trickling down your thighs.

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thank you for reading 🖤

and tysm for your comments and asks 🙏the feedback and encouragement really helps me.

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warnings: panic attack, PPD

"Does tomorrow morning work? I'll be heading to base immediately after. Want to make sure I have enough time to say goodbye."

"Yeah, we'll see you then."

Simon goes to bed early that night.

He's good at clearing his mind and willing himself to sleep, hovering just barely there on the surface, never dipping too deep, and has done it for years. It enables his ability to rest in even some of the most uncomfortable circumstances (and that includes Johnny's snoring). It's compartmentalizing at it's finest, something he's tried to impress upon the sergeants too, over time.

Learn how to do this. It may save your life.

The pendulum swing keeps him somewhat aware, connected to a very small piece still tethered to the conscious world.

It's how he hears his phone ring at twenty hundred.

The caller ID flashes your name and he picks up immediately, sitting straight up. "Hey-"

"Hi, um..." You're crying. He flips himself out of bed, already partially dress, and manages to locate his shoes in a millisecond.

"What's wrong?"

"Can you... can you c-come- take the baby for a little while?" Your exhale whistles through the phone sharply. "P-please. I know you- you're leaving tomorrow but I-"

"It's alright, I'm on my way. I'll be there in a minute. Are you okay?"

"I- I... don't know wh-what to do." You're hyperventilating, caught in the grip of something, scared and alone. The sidewalk stretches for miles, his lungs burning as the oxygen stays trapped in his chest from the weight of his fear, and the line goes quiet, call ending as he makes it to the lobby of your building and up the stairs.

The copy of your key he never returned gets him inside, and the first thing he notices, or realizes, is Orion's screaming. He calls your name, yells it, beelining for the nursery where the baby lays on his back, hands and feet wriggling wildly in the air, tears coursing down his cheeks as he wails. "Alright, Ry, alright. C'mere, I've got you." You're not in here, not anywhere in sight, and his stomach flips.

You have to be here. He just talked to you.

But you wouldn't know how to signal him if something was really wrong, would you? He didn't prepare you. If something happened, how would you tell him?

He tucks Orion into his arms, cradles him to his chest, and bounces him gently. "Hey, you're okay, you're okay. What's all this crying about, hmm? What is it? Where's your mama?" The crying gentles, barely, and Simon holds him at a distance, quickly, checking him over. He's not overheated, he doesn't seem to be hurt, he's freshly bathed and in a clean onesie. His nappy is new and doesn't need to be changed. "Mama took good care of you, huh? You're all clean, fresh nappy, ready for bed, aren't you bub? Yeah." Simon paces in a circle, trying to settle his cries, before lowering him back into the crib. "You stay right here, little man, alright? Close your eyes. Daddy's gonna find mama and he'll be right back."

You're not in the living room, and he finds your bedroom dark when he opens the door. For a very brief moment, his panic blooms into paralyzation, before he spots the light from your bathroom.

His heart breaks when he opens the door.

You're on the floor, back against the vanity, sobbing with your palms covering your ears. You look like you haven't showered in days, and your light blue t shirt is soaked, slicked to your breasts and belly.

There's no distance between the two of you in this moment, no barriers, no time, no need for space. He kneels, and you look up, tearful eyes telling him all he needs to know. "I'm here, mama. I've got you."

You go into his arms willingly, diaphragm heaving with tiny hiccups and sobs, unable to catch your breath. Your entire body shakes, and wraps himself around you, holding you tight where you've buried your face in his chest. "I- I'm s-sorry." You're hoarse, voice cracked and broken. "He w-won't stop."

"Shhh, don't worry about that right now, just take a deep breath." You shake your head.

"I can't."

"Yes you can." You're frozen, panicked, and he smoothes his hand over your head. "You can do it, honey. Try f'me." The baby is still crying, and with the bathroom door slightly ajar, it bounces off the tile, all around you. Simon grimaces.

He's fine, he's safe. He's in his crib.

Simon shuts the door.

"Breathe with me, alright?" he maneuvers you so that you're in his arms, laying on his chest, face tipped back to his. "Just follow me," he pulls the hand that's gripping onto his forearm like rebar away and places it over his heart, "like this." You try and try to sync your breathing with his, and once you finally get there, evening out slowly, he kisses your hair. "There you go, good girl."

Simon keeps you close, happy to hold you, even if it was in these circumstances. It's so selfish, so wrong, but he can't find it in himself to let you go, waiting long past the point when you've calmed down to finally speak again. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"He... he wouldn't stop crying. For hours and I... I tried everything, but I felt like I couldn't breathe and I felt... dizzy, and when I went to feed him he didn't want me and I was crying too, but I felt so- so mad at the same time, and I didn't know what to do so I j-just put him in his crib and came in here and c-called you. I don't kn-know what I did wrong-" your breathing slips into shallow territory again, and he rubs your back.

"You didn't do anything wrong. He's okay, he's safe. He's even got a fresh nappy on. You made sure you took care of him, which is all you need to do, okay?"

"I feel awful," you whisper, drenched in shame, "he needs to eat, and I just- I abandoned him."

"No, you did the right thing and took a break. There's nothing wrong with taking a break." You sniffle, pulling the sopping shirt away from your body, shivering with discomfort. "Do you want to try again? See if it goes any better?" You give him a frightened look, unsure and nervous. "I'll be right here with you."

"Okay."

"Let's go see your mama." Orion has worked himself into a state, and it tears Simon to pieces, guilt about leaving him in here ripping through his heart.

He feels responsible. He is responsible, at the end of the day. If he had been upfront with you from the beginning, this might have never happened. He would have been here. You would have the support you need.

He was supposed to take care of you, but all he did was make it worse.

He kisses Orion gently. It helps quell the anxiety growing like a plague inside him, worry and fear about leaving you on your own for weeks, or more, chipping away at his resolve. He tells himself you'll be okay, that you did it on your own before he came along, and that you can do it again, but the admission of another dizzy spell doesn't make him feel any better in the long run.

"Don't worry, she's okay now. She loves you so much, you know that? She takes such good care of you, all the time. Even when she doesn't feel good, doesn't she?" He doesn't turn the lights on to your bedroom, and finds you on the bed, sitting up, wet shirt discarded on the floor. He doesn't rush it, doesn't push you, even though the baby cries at the top of his lungs in Simon's arms.

Finally, you hold your hands out. He helps get Orion settled, stroking his cheek over and over until he starts to instinctually seek you out, latching after a few long minutes.

Your eyes slip closed at the silence and you lean to the side, nestling into Simon's chest.

He holds you. You hold his baby.

How it was always meant to be.

He whispers above your ear, working his fingers into the knots of your neck, your shoulders. "You're doing great, mama." You hum but stay quiet, head down, fingers stroking over Ry's cheek, again and again.

"Thank you... for being here. I know things are complicated but it means a lot that you would come. I'm sorry I freaked out, about your job. I just... it's a lot to take in. I don't really know how to feel. I need some time." That's good, he thinks. Better than last week, when you asked him to leave with tears in your eyes. There's hope. He can fix this.

"You can have all the time you want sweetheart, but... I need to ask you a favor." Orion's body full relaxes, little fist clenched in the swell of your breast falling away, and you sigh.

"What is it?"

"When I'm away... I can turn my phone on every now and then, in specific places. D'you think you could send me some pictures? Or maybe I could call, when I'm able?"

"Of course."

He stays most of the night, until the sun comes up. Gets Ry back down, stands watch while you're in shower, helps you get settled in bed. There's a special place in his heart for you when you're soft and sweet and sleepy, a tiny kitten, curling up in the palm of his hand, purring. His moon. His everything.

"You be good for your mama, okay? I expect a good report when I get home. And try not to grow too much, alright little man?" He kisses his head, holding it there, walking around in the kitchen with Ry in his arms. "I love you, Orion. You and your mama. I'll be home real soon."

You turn the corner, something clenched in your hands, what, he can't tell, and you smile sadly. "I uh... I have something for you." He cocks, his head, shifting the baby to one arm, and you hold your fist out. "It's kind of dumb, honestly, but I thought you might... I don't know. I thought you might like it. I made it myself." It's a small fabric square, embroidered with a constellation, Orion's, he recognizes now, and a compass. "It's so you can always find it in the night sky. If you're in the northern hemisphere it should be south west, and if you're in the southern, it's in the north west. I didn't know like, what you could take with you but I figured this is small enough..." You look embarrassed, and all he wants to do is pull you into his arms and kiss you.

But he can't. He can only whisper your name, thick with emotion.

"It's great. I'll use it every night. Thank you." You blink, eyes wet, and then nod. He glances at his watch.

"Time to go?"

"Yeah," he hands you the baby, and picks up his duffle, the weight foreign now but still familiar. "Take care of yourself, alright?"

"I will."

"Promise me." He's stern, pushing a little bit of lieutenant into it, and you agree again, quickly.

"I will." You follow him to the door, holding Orion up for him to kiss one last time, and then he presses his mouth to your forehead, pleased when you don't pull away. He's dragging it out, the reluctance too ripe, and finally hangs his head in defeat after the too short minutes tick away.

"I'll see you soon." He gives you one last look, memorizing your face, Orion's, as much as he can, before heading down the hall.

"Simon," you call, turning him on a dime, "be careful, okay? Make sure... make sure you come home." Home.

"I will. I promise."

[fastandcarlos]

Little Interruptions : ̗̀➛ George Russell

summary: it's been a while since you and george got any alone time, however when that time arrives, you forget about the other little additions to your family who are around

You didn’t quite know where to look as George hovered over you, even after so many years together he found a way to make your heart race. Your eyes didn’t quite know where to look as a result of the close proximity between you both, resting your hands against his stomach. 

“How did I ever get so lucky?” George whispered to himself, “it’s been a while since we had a moment, just the two of us.” 

“It’s rare these days,” you chuckled, “fancy making the most of it?” 

You didn’t even need to ask George as he pressed a kiss to your lips. “I couldn’t think of any better way to spend my time. We might have to make it a quick one this time.” 

“You’re not as young as you once were Russell,” you teased, moving your hands to brush through his hair, “you sure you’ll be able to do it?” 

George’s eyebrows raised at your challenge, head shaking that you dared doubt him. “In that case sweetheart, allow me to remind you just why you fell in love with me in the first place.” 

“I’m not complaining,” you grinned, “it’s been a while since you reminded me of that, don’t you think?” 

George continued to scoff as you messed with him, a shrug of your shoulders following. “Trust me, by the time I’ve finished with you, you won’t be walking straight for the rest of the day.” 

“Challenge accepted,” you smirked, stretching upwards so that you could catch George’s lips with your own, teeth gently pulling against his bottom lip, allowing yourself to take control. 

As your lips parted, George briefly sat up and tossed his shirt down onto the floor, allowing you to take a moment to admire the definition in his arms that were either side of you. 

“Would it be the worst thing in the world if we made another baby?” George asked, watching as your head shook, your breath already starting to hitch as he spoke. 

“Let’s do it,” you chuckled, much to George’s delight. 

He took a moment to pull away from you, studying you closely. “It’s been a decade and I still count my lucky stars every day that I have someone like you in my life.” 

George gave himself a moment before kissing your lips one more time, slowly trailing along your neck, your chest, and down to your stomach, stopping just as he got to where your bottoms were. 

“Still just as good,” George spoke, beginning to pull your waistband down. 

Your body wriggled as you went to help George discard your bottoms, only to flinch and quickly pull them up again. Your bedroom door flew open as your daughter ran in. George scrambled back up and laid beside you, brushing his hands through his hair to try and appear composed. 

“Good morning,” she excitedly grinned, rushing around to your side of the bed, jumping up so that she could see you and George. 

You didn’t quite know how to react, your heart racing as you pulled the duvet back over your body, glancing to George with a helpless look in your eyes. 

“Sweetheart, it’s early,” George told her, “you should still be in bed sleeping.” 

Her head shook as she climbed over you to lay in between the two of you, completely unaware of the moment that she had managed to interrupt between you both. 

“I want to go downstairs and play, laying in bed is boring.” 

“Jesus,” George muttered underneath his breath, knowing exactly what he was going to end up doing.  

George sat himself up, hurrying your daughter out of the room, promising to be right down after her as he leant down and picked his shirt back up again. 

Once his shirt was on, George turned to look at you, neither of you quite knowing what to say. It was rare for you to feel awkward around George, but right now, all you wanted was the ground to swallow you up. 

George felt guilty as he looked at the nervous expression on your face, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of your head, silently assuring you not to worry. 

“Now I remember why we don’t have sex anymore,” you whispered across to him, “I dread to think what she could’ve walked in on George if she was any later.” 

“Don’t worry, she saw nothing, don’t worry about something like that.” 

Your head nodded, trusting George and knowing that somehow you had managed to react quick enough to save yourselves from scarring your daughter for life. 

“That doesn’t mean that I’m finished with you yet,” he warned you. 

“You’ve got no chance if you think we’re doing anything after that near miss.” 

George huffed at your stubborness, secretly confidently that he would manage to pull your strings and get his own way with you eventually though. 

“I’ll go and put something on the television,” he informed you, “take your time and come and join us whenever you’re ready, I’ll make sure that she’s entertained.” 

You smiled appreciatively across at George, burying your head into your pillow once he closed the door behind himself, wondering where it all went wrong for you both. 

As you got yourself dressed and ready for the day, you couldn’t remember the last time you and George were intimate together.  These days it was like you only recognised yourselves as parents, not the fun loving young adults that you once were. 

Once you were ready, you headed down the stairs to see George laid out on the sofa, your daughter sat on the floor with her eyes fixated on the screen, giggling away at the episode you were sure she had seen several times. You moved to where George was, sitting yourself down in the space that he tapped beside himself, inviting you to lay down next to him with his arm draped around your shoulders. 

“I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable earlier,” George whispered into your ear. 

Your head shook straight away, “you don’t need to be sorry, I just got panicked knowing that she walked in. You’re right though, we shouldn’t do nothing just because she’s around.” 

“We just need to be more careful, that’s it,” George encouraged. 

You hummed in agreement with you, neither of you wanted to lose the passion that you once had, even if your daughter was around. There was still plenty of time available for the two of you, you just needed to try and be better at finding it and making the most of it too. 

“I get that it’s scary, but I was serious earlier when I said about having another one,” George added, “she’s getting older and I’d love for us to complete our family now.” 

“I agree,” you smiled, resting against George’s chest. “We might just have to be a bit more selective about our opportunities to try and make a baby this time around compared to last time.” 

“I’m sure if we spoke to our families too they’d help us out,” George suggested, “I know we’re mum and dad, but they say it takes a village to raise a baby, don’t they?” 

Once again you hummed in agreement, “we’re not going to end up losing ourselves, are we? Not like those couples you see as they get older.” 

“No way, I love you too much anyway to ever be able to stay away from you.” 

“Good, because I love you too.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[jigeuminunbich]

sleep tight | jung jaehyun (m)

synopsis in which you and jaehyun are forced to sleep on the couch of your family’s intimate, budget-friendly vacation home and just can’t seem to find comfortable positioning— that is until he climbs on top of you.

genre nonidol!au, fem!reader, established relationship, mature (smut), and a bit of comedy

minors dni, please ! (nsfw tags under the cut)

warnings edited to the best of my abilities lmao, pretty public sex, unprotected missionary, hair-pulling, and pet names (babe)

word count 3k

a/n i literally wrote this on a whim and have not written smut in a hot minute (so please tread carefully lol)

If it was solely up to you, you and Jaehyun would be comfortably cuddled up in a King sized bed with the appropriate privacy every adult couple should have. But it unfortunately wasn’t up to you— your Mother’s desire to have everyone squeezed into the vacation home she rented and her sheer joy at the fact keeping you from doing what was clearly logical, so you two squirmed for the closest thing to comfort which you were soon realizing was far from happening any time soon.

“Babe,” Jaehyun gritted out, his breath fanning against your neck. His grip on your hips tightened in an effort to ease you but your need to find an actually pleasant position overpowered his hold on you.

You angled your neck, flashing him an apologetic pout. “I’m sorry, but I’m not trying to wake up with a crick in my neck tomorrow.”

Your sympathy for your boyfriend was fleeting, beginning to rustle around in your shared space one again, much to his dismay.

Jaehyun let out a breathy chuckle, still trying to get ahold on your frame as you wriggled around much like a fish out of water. “I think that’s gonna happen no matter how you lay, so just stay still.”

His broad frame engulfed your’s in his endeavor to stop you from moving around, and unbeknownst to you, to stop you from absentmindedly grinding into him. You huffed, already attempting to flounder out of your boyfriend’s arms. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“Easy? Do you not see my feet?” On cue, his sock clad feet wiggled over the armrest on the opposite end of the couch and you fail to bite back a giggle.

“It’s not funny.” Jaehyun muttered, a hint of humor in his tone.

“It kind of is,” you manage to get through his hold, sitting up for a moment. “maybe we should sleep opposite ways—“

A large hand is pressed against your stomach, Jaehyun’s attempt to pull you back down next to him. “No, no. Just stay right here.”

With your body too tired to fight against his strength, you oblige but not without clear suspicion written on your face. “It would probably be more comfortable, Jae,”

“Well, you’ve already started something in this position that I think you should stay and finish.” Jaehyun murmurs lowly, his front pressing further into your side until you realize just what he means.

You sputter out a laugh in amazement, taken aback with your boyfriend’s sheer audacity.

“Are you insane?! My family is literally on the other side of this wall.”

“Yeah, I can hear them snoring. It’ll be quick, promise.”

You scoff, shuffling onto your side in a way that you hoped would tell your boyfriend his idea was perilous and downright deranged. But he only takes it as an opportunity to wrap his body around you once again, his hardened cock pushing into the plush of your ass.

“Jae,” you warn. He only responds with a hum that comes across almost pained, and you screw your eyes shut at just how desperate he sounds. His lips are pressed into the side of your neck, beginning to try and egg you on by layering soft kisses over your skin. Your argument falls short once you feel his tongue swiping against you, and instinctively your neck cranes to allow him to do more.

“…just be quick, okay?” You muster out, falling to your boyfriend’s charms. You can sense the victorious smile that plays on his lips, though it only lasts for a brief second as he takes no time to alter his posture for the first time tonight. His stature suddenly hovering over you, with his knees situated on either side of your hips.

“Shit. You waste no time, huh?”

Jaehyun snickers. “I’ve been thinking about this for the past two hours and every time you moved only weakened my patience, so yeah, I don’t.”

Before you could counter him, his lips were on yours, swallowing any argument you had. It was unusual but thrilling, just how greedy Jaehyun was. A typical night like this between the two of you would flow a lot slower and way smoother than what was currently transpiring. But it was clear in the way your boyfriend’s large hands familiarly roamed the expanse of your body and from how sloppy your kiss was, that he had in fact been dwelling on doing this since you both had been shunned to the couch together.

A melody of teeth knocking, wet pops, and soft but frequent sighs of pleasure began to emerge from the three-seater couch in the middle of the living room. In the middle of your family’s respective rooms, but that fact had quickly traveled to the back of your mind, especially after Jaehyun’s hand had found home underneath your nightgown.

Somehow you managed to escape the hungry lips of your lover to speak, “Don’t tease.” You threaten, just as Jaehyun’s gentle fingers had begun to strum at the fabric of your now dampened panties.

Completely aware of the advantage he held at the moment, Jaehyun chuckled into your mouth, amused. He leans his face back and away from you, but only to the point where the tips of your noses are inevitably able to touch.

“And what if I decide to?” He challenges, two pads of his fingers disobediently playing with your clothed clit. You jolt at the feeling, struggling to keep your authority from wavering.

“Well, you said you wanted to keep this quick, no?” You reverberate your boyfriend’s exact choice of words. Jaehyun’s defiant ministrations stall as he considers his options. Thankfully, the pressure between your legs is lightened and you’re able to relax a bit.

“True. Maybe tomorrow night then.” He sneers before closing the space between you both and abusing your lips. The thought of you both going at it for a second night in a row, and risking the same thing over again welcomes back the reality of the situation.

Driven to get this over with as soon as possible without running the risk of your family peeking their head around the corner, you reach your hand out to grip Jaehyun through his sleep shorts. A guttural groan pushes its way from his throat and down your own, and you're more than happy to keep them coming. Your hand continues to rub the length of his hard-on for a moment before you’re reaching for the waistband of his bottoms.

Jaehyun catches on to your pace, pulling away to sit up in an attempt to help you pull his shorts down. You let him follow through with it, moving onto your own bottoms that took no time to slide down your legs and onto the nearby carpet.

“Ready?” You whisper, situating yourself under your boyfriend, planting your feet on either side of him to allow him greater access to hover over you.

Jaehyun giggles at your eagerness, his length heavy in his left palm while his right landed right by your head. “Mhm,” he muffles into a peck on your lips, “tell me if it’s all too much.”

You wordlessly nod, all too familiar with this string of events. You stiffen momentarily at the feeling of Jaehyun first entering you, shifting uncomfortably until your arms are around his neck, pulling him down into another kiss. It’s good that you did, as his length continues to stretch your walls, you start to emit moans that could thankfully be contained into Jaehyun’s mouth.

He steadily rocks his hips into your own, coming to a halt when he’s finally able to bottom out inside of you. His lips travel from your own, to your cheek, and finally by your ear. “Be good for me, yeah?”

The taunting tone in his voice riles you to respond but he interrupts you by dragging his cock through your walls just to thrust back into you. You gasp at the feeling, your eyes rolling in your head.

Jaehyun’s feverious behavior from moments earlier returns, his mouth coming back to silence you as he begins to find a rhythm between your legs. The sound of huffing and the repeated padding of skin against each other filters into the room, and you pray it doesn’t seep past the cracks of your family’s doors or through the walls.

You and Jaehyun play tug-of-war with each other’s lips, teeth snagging one another in between the greedy intrusion of your tongues. It’s a fight to try to keep up with him as he has the upper hand, angling his body in a way that you're sandwiched between him and the couch with little room to wrestle your way out. It doesn’t help that the feeling of his cock drilling into you has you losing your mind.

You’re riding on a high, the pace you’re going at is quickly allowing you to build tension in the base of your stomach, and you can barely focus with that sensation and the distracting muscle of Jaehyun’s roaming your mouth. Key word, almost.

Your eyes peel open momentarily when Jaehyun pulls away from mouth to deliver open mouth kisses on the available area of your neck, bruises threatening to form and tell a story tomorrow from how passionately he suckles on your skin.

“Jae—“ you begin, but pause abruptly at the slim, yet sudden appearance of light under the door frame that belonged to your parent’s room. “Jae!”

The hands that had tightened around your own arms for stability soon came to either side of your boyfriend’s head in a haste to grab his attention. Jaehyun stills at your sudden change in tune and lifts his head accordingly, allowing you to angle his attention to the door across the living room.

“Wha— oh,” he squints before realizing that the yellow light beaming from the floor definitely wasn’t there a couple moments ago. Eyes wide with panic, he turns back to you. Both of your expressions say a thousand words without having to exchange any real conversation. You begin to signal for him to pull out and roll off of you but he declines, shaking his head hurriedly.

“Don’t move.” He warns, so quiet that you could barely hear him. But he knows you definitely did when you glare at him incredulously.

“What do you mean don’t move?! If one of them walks out here and sees us—“ promptly Jaehyun’s palm is placed over your mouth, silencing your rant, following the distant sound of another door shutting.

Simultaneously, your eyes train on the door opposite of the couch. It was clear that one of your parents had woken up with the need to go to the bathroom but the chance of them deciding to wander out of their room to catch their daughter and their precious son-in-law in such a compromising position still pressed on in your mind.

Seconds ticked on like hours, and the longer you two sat like this you became more aware of your boyfriend’s dick that was still wedged between your walls and how you weren’t going to be able to take not moving much longer. Almost as if Jaehyun could sense your restlessness, his eyes flitted over to you, trying his best to swallow his laughter.

You warned him with your eyes the best you could, it could almost be interpreted as a curse from just how piercing your glare was. In retaliation, Jaehyun shifted his hips backwards and retracted out of your walls at an agonizingly slow pace. If it wasn’t for his hand doing its best job at quieting your sounds, you’re sure whoever was stirring in your parents room would be alerted that something was definitely going on outside their door.

Before Jaehyun could terrorize you any further, you both heard the sounds of a door closing again and what seemed to be your Mother murmuring to herself just before the poignant light under the frame ceased back to nothing. Cautious, you both remained still for a beat longer than probably necessary before returning your gazes to each other.

“That was close.” Jaehyun muttered, allowing you to swat away his hand bitterly.

“You think?” You bit, stunned that he could even manage to laugh at the moment.

“You love me,” he answers back, stealing a kiss. You shake your head in disbelief at him, masking your thrill that had boiled from the possibility of you two being caught.

“You’re sick.”

Jaehyun laughs at this, grasping your hips, lifting you up a bit, before leaning down till your face to face once more. This positioning only allows him to slowly ease his way back into you, chipping your anger away quickly.

“Still love me, don’t you?” He taunts.

“We’ll see—“ you interrupt your back and forth with the force of your own lips, Jaehyun’s hips ramming back into your own hastily at the need to keep up with you. It’s clear in both of your movements that you’re both eager for a release of some sort. Your hands find either side of your boyfriend’s face as he manhandles you— his knees sink deeper into the infamous couch from holding your weight up in his arms. The new angle allows you to rut your clit into his pelvis, welcoming a much needed rush that shoots through your body.

It’s damn near feral the way you two devour each other in search for a finish, and if anyone walked in on this very moment you would just have to pack up you and Jaehyun’s bags and never be seen again.

Your moans are ripping through you quicker and are resonating more high-pitch. A tell-tale sign to Jaehyun that you’re close to climaxing. He draws an arm from around your back to inch his hand into your hair, instinctively coiling his fingers in your strands and pulling to edge you on. The action only encourages you and you pull yourself as flush to your boyfriend as physically possible, leaving the span of his thrusts to shorten but your grinding to excel.

“You gonna come for me?” Jaehyun asks, his answer apparent in the way you can barely form a word to retort back. He finds humor in this, and is elated to encourage your hips against him to propel you to your near orgasm.

A pathetic mewl emits from the back of your throat and anything after is hushed by Jaehyun’s mouth. Your release is quick to wash over you while you allow yourself to rut against Jaehyun until your mind finds proper footing. Thankfully, he gives you that time, laying you down on your back once your hips still.

It doesn’t last all too long since soon Jaehyun’s face was in the crook of your neck as you were catching your breath, rocking his hips to chase his own orgasm. You withstand the overwhelming sensation of the continued stimulation, holding out till your boyfriend’s thrusts soon falter into an arrhythmic pace before his hips begin to stutter upon his release. You shudder at the repeated spurts of his come that lined your walls and soon your folds after Jaehyun finally pulled out.

The living room was motionless for a moment, Jaehyun collapsing his body weight onto you tiredly. Your frame follows suit, relaxing into the cushions of the couch beneath you while your eyes flutter shut. Only to reopen when Jaehyun’s head rises from the junction between your neck and shoulder to gaze at you.

You both exchange dopey smiles before his mouth moves to speak, “See, that wasn’t too bad,” he sneers.

Without even thinking about it, your eyes roll and you scoff at him. “We were this close to being put out on the street.”

Though still a bit weak, you’re able to shove your boyfriend off of you with a slither of his help. He lands in his initial position but not before situating his shorts back into place and assisting you by pulling down your nightgown.

“Yeah, but we weren’t.” He finalizes with a smirk, pulling your body flush against his. You decide you’re way too exhausted to bicker with him, mumbling something to the tune of whatever.

© jigueminunbich ‘24

[ameliathornromance]

“(Y/N), what is that?”

Your Orc Boyfriend pointed to the bundle in your arms. A small, innocent smile crept onto your lips. “I… Brought back a baby?”

You had been on a stroll, alone. Your Orc Boyfriend was stuck doing boring wood chopping work. Normally, you would read, but you had just finished reading your favourite book for the third time and there were no reading materials available for you. So, you decided to go on a walk.

It was a rather new pass time for you.

You enjoyed some alone time, away from the others and the quietness of nature. Despite finding comfort in the grunts and growls of Orcs working and thudding about the camp, there were moments when you yearned for a more subdued ambiance, particularly at night.

And so that’s how your walks began.

You knew and followed only the safest Orc routes through the countryside.

But as you walked, faint cries called to you. You had frowned. A baby, crying? Mindful of a trap, you tiptoed in the direction of the crying.

“There are dangers out in the woods. Do not stray from our regular paths.” Your Boyfriend had warned you before you left.

All kinds of things lurked in the woods, from fellow Orc camps to Witches, you could never be too cautious. Anyone would do anything to capture a lone human woman. Regardless of where she'd come from.

Your feet were silent against the moss covered ground. The cries drew closer, and closer, and that’s when you found it. A bundle held the tiniest form you’d ever seen. The baby was pasty pale, wriggling and screaming at the top of it's lungs.

You swiftly stooped and scooped up the poor thing, cradling it. “It’s okay!” You shushed. “You’re okay! I’m here, don’t worry.” Looking over your shoulder, you knew you couldn't just leave the poor thing alone out there.

So you made your way back home, baby in hand. Other Orcs gave you odd looks upon your return with the baby, but no one said anything.

The baby had calmed down by this point and appeared content to have finally received someone's attention.

Noticing that your boyfriend was still busy at work with wood chopping, you made your way back to your shared tent and waited for him to finish.

In the meantime, you wrapped up the child in animal skins and tried to think of something to feed it.

Your boyfriend came in later in the evening. And here you are now.

“It was all alone, someone left it in the forest…” you explained. Worry crept over you.

Finding food had become more challenging. Winter was about to set in. The crops were dying, animals were being herded into more secluded places.

The entire encampment fought to provide enough food and water for everyone. And now you had brought a new born.

Your Orc Boyfriend said nothing. He approached, towering above both you and the small thing in your arms. You expected him to be angry. Upset because you brought back another mouth to feed.

“And it was all alone?” He asked you. His voice rumbled through your chest. All you could manage in reply was a weak nod.

“Humans are pathetic.” Your Orc Boyfriend scoffed.

Before you could stop him, your Orc had scooped the baby up in his own arms and peered down at it. “How could they abandon something so vulnerable?”

“You’re not angry?” You asked, surprised.

“No. Even an Orc would ensure the child's safety.” He grumbled. The baby stared up at him, expressionless. Before a huge grin over took its face, hands stretched out.

Your Orc chuckled, holding a finger out for the baby to take. It did so and giggled, flexing the finger up and down with ease.

"What about food?" You asked, placing a hand on your Orc's forearm. The both of you watched the baby investigate your partners finger.

"I will deal with that. Since this is new born, I will make sure it gets the care it needs." Once the baby had lost interest in his hand, your Orc Boyfriend cupped your face. "You did the right thing, my love. I'm glad you brought it back."

Your heart swelled with pride, "thank you."

"We shall raise it to be a strong and powerful warrior!" Your Orc grinned, tusks jutting out of his bottom lip. He raised the baby high in the air, it let out a shriek of delight.

You sighed as your Orc returned to cooing at the baby. You truly had a wonderful boyfriend, didn't you?

Sequel

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[6esiree]

𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧

The first time you sunk down onto your knees before Alastor, he stared down at you through a mask of unwavering confidence and indifference that almost deterred your nimble fingers from working away at his slacks. But the anticipation, which coated the cotton fabric of your panties, was much too thick… that and the unforgettable revelation he had murmured against the shell of your ear that he knew not what it felt like to have another’s touch between his legs.

Alastor was a virgin.

So, when you asked him if you could pleasure him with your mouth after a rather drawn out affair of exchanging kisses, tongue, teeth and all, he withdrew from your swollen lips with a twinge of perturbation on his brow. After almost a year in your relationship, he was ready to engage with you intimately, but he never anticipated that you’d ask to pleasure him in a manner that he considered filthy—debauched, even. What happened to conventional sex? To missionary?

“It’ll feel so good, Al…” You leaned in, arms wrapped firmly around the broadness of his shoulders, and planted your tongue slack against his lips. “Like this—and you like when I do this.”

You painted the thin line that was his mouth with a slow, sensual stripe of saliva, and oh, his slacks tightened almost instantaneously. But when you lowered the swell of your ass onto his lap and jutted your hips forward, clothed cunt teasing the considerable tent he had with a meager wriggling, he turned away from you with a sigh that just oozed static and mock-contemplation. You were already familiar with his tendency to put on a facade in the face of temptation, though.

“I suppose you can,” He offered half-heartedly, but the way his clawed-hand patted your hip with a “Get going,” betrayed his true sentiments… including the drawled out “Attagirl.”

You rolled your eyes with a giggle, the bed softly creaking as you shimmied off of Alastor’s lap. You found yourself missing the sensation of his erection rubbing your clit through your panties… until you sunk down onto your knees and came face-to-face with the sight straining painfully before your eyes. God, he was big. He had to part his legs and jut his hips forwards much like yours had earlier, except more slower, timider, to snap you out of your self-imposed trance.

And it worked, your stare palpitating with a stager in your movements as you leaned in and worked away at his slacks, nimble fingers trembling with a surge of anticipation. Besides the feeling of uncertainty and slight trepidation gnawing at him, an amused smile managed to find its way on his features. Your huffs and puffs of unsteady breaths mingled with the sound of his zipper being undone, and as it resonated throughout your shared bedroom, he managed to collect himself.

“Look at you, being so subservient to me,” Alastor hummed, the gratification behind his statement accentuated by the crackles and pops behind his radio filter. “You’re such a good girl.”

“Oh, let’s see if you’re still as confident as you’re making yourself out to be—” You dipped your hand into his slacks and groped the outline of his cock, “—when I do this.”

“Please, that’s nothing I can’t do with my own hand,” Alastor immediately scoffed, but you hadn’t missed the slight downwards twitch of his lip. “Now, are you going to—”

Your knees rubbed against the carpet fibers of your bedroom floor, but as you finally freed his aching cock from the constricting confines of his briefs, the head glistening with a thick layer of precum, you easily ignored that uncomfortable burning sensation threatening to spoil this moment. He sunk his teeth into the inside of his cheek as you wrapped your hand around the base, the metallic taste of blood greeting his tastebuds at the tentative squeeze you gave it.

It was just so thick and heavy and everything your heart desired… but most considerably your mouth, wet and warm from your salivation, the perfect environment for that thick cock. The same one that only you would ever get the privilege to see, to hold, to suck, and to milk dry when you experienced your first rut together. But right now you had to suck him, you reminded yourself, especially as your cunt throbbed longingly between your shifting thighs.

“Sorry,” You batted your lashes at him innocently and rested the side of your head on his lap, tongue darting out of your mouth to lick at the underside of his cock, “For proving you wrong, I mean.”

Alastor scoffed at you yet again, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as he tore his heavy-lidded gaze from the filthy sight below him and stared ahead, and all while your tongue moved up, and up, and up the length of his cock, till it found the head, so red and weepy, and circled it slowly and sensually. His clawed-hands subtly gripped the silken sheets, but besides that, he refused to give into your ministrations, and to give into your need to prove yourself right.

“Why are you still speaking?”

He was confident, and he was also adamantly opposed to allowing you to feel as if you were in a position of power, your lips finally wrapping around his cock and swallowing whatever your mouth would allow you to take. Halfway—he mentally noted, your hand pumping the other length of his cock you couldn’t quite take without dissolving into a pitiful mess of flushed skin, teary eyes, and gags and sputters. You wanted to enjoy the process of pleasuring him for the first time.

You gave Alastor a little taste of what to expect by hollowing your cheeks and giving him a generous suck, hand squeezing and mouth leisurely moving up and down his cock. However, it was at that moment that he wished he had partaken in carnal pleasures in life. That mask of confidence and indifference fell as he dipped his head, his brows came together to form a deep crease in his ashen skin, and a small, shaky moan seeped past those razor-sharp teeth of his.

If you weren’t wet before, you surely were now, the cotton fabric of your panties bunching into your folds. To hear a man as powerful, as dangerous, as Alastor produce such a sweet, innocent sound, that made you let out a moan of your own around his cock. And he felt the vibrations of your gratification, including the way the tip of your tongue worked in tandem with your mouth and caressed the vein on the length of his shaft. But he felt entirely opposed to you.

Alastor was mortified.

“Oh, fuck, that was…” You pulled back from his cock with a filthy ‘Pop!’, chest heaving at how breathless the sound left you. “God, you sounded so—and I mean so—fucking pretty.”

Out of all the noises that could have escaped his throat, a grunt, a groan, and perhaps even a meager ‘Fuck,’ it had to be a wretched little moan that made him sound so innocent, so inexperienced, like a teenager that barely discovered sex. But when you said he sounded pretty, a statement he thought that he only he would tell you while making love to you, his cock sliding in and out of your cunt in deep, passionate thrusts, he decided he had had enough.

Yes, he was the virgin in the relationship, but he would not dissolve into a blushing bride on her wedding night, no matter how good it felt when you wrapped your lips around his cock again and bobbed your head up and down. As the room resonated with the sound of your relentless sucking, he dipped his head and carded a clawed-hand through your hair, scratching at your scalp rather affectionately. Like a pet—his pet—and while that irked you, you would not stop.

“And so do you, my dear,” Despite how close he was to finishing, he grasped your hair and encouraged you to take more of his cock in your mouth, making you choke. “Oh, now that’s pretty.”

But that wasn’t the only thing he had in store for you. His tendrils manifested from the ground in a series of wisps before slowly winding around your thighs, and they journeyed up north till they wriggled underneath your shorts. His mouth fell open with a staticky hum as a surprised sound, albeit gargled, emanated from your throat. Two tendrils found its way inside of your slick-drenched panties, one from the front of your waistband, the other from the seam of your thigh.

“Come now, you must continue to suck,” Alastor reminded you, his hips jutting upwards, the head of his cock kissing the back of your throat for a fleeting moment. “Fuck,” He added with a hiss.

A tendril curiously flicked at your swollen clit, while the other shimmied its way past your folds to get to your fluttering hole, slick with the pleasure you had derived from sucking off Alastor. Your eyes fell shut as the thick, slimy appendage stretched your walls, whatever discomfort you would have felt assuaged by the other tendril working away at your clit, its movements ungraceful and yet pleasurable in its inexperience, the flicks feeling similar to kitten-licks.

“Where is that confidence that you previously wore, hm?” Alastor asked you rather rudely, tugging your hair back and pulling you off of his cock before he could finish. “It’s gone.”

While he sounded so demeaning, you could see what he truly felt, even as your eyes remained shut, the tendril buried deep inside of your hole experimentally twisting and turning, grazing that spongey flesh within your walls that had your thighs shaking with an impending orgasm. His ears had fallen back at this point, and his skin was absolutely flushed—he just had an incredible amount of self-restraint in his favor. And you? Well, all you had was experience with sex.

“I can’t do what you’re doing—gah, fuck, right there!” You cried out in ecstasy, your other hand scrambling to grip his slender thigh. “Unlike you, I allow myself to feel—mm—to feel good.”

“I am, you’re just being too… ” Alastor reintroduced your mouth to his cock, hoping to distract you, but it didn’t work. Not even as his tendrils began to properly fuck you. “ …smug.”

“You’re just the same, Al—uh, this is so weird,” You spoke every time you pulled away from his cock, prolonging the coming of his orgasm. “Never thought I’d get my pussy filled with ten—“

“Now, now, there’s no need for such crude language, my dear,” He scolded you, forcing your mouth down once more, no longer allowing you to speak. “It’s not becoming of a lady.”

But you were no lady, and you felt nowhere near like a lady as Alastor’s tendrils drove into your cunt and rubbed your clit at a feverish pace, the filthy squelching enveloping your bedroom instead of the usual mixture of soft jazz music and the ambience of the bayou just behind you. It simply amazed you that he was hesitant to sexually engage with you for a while, but the moment you finally did and you overpowered him, he did the least conventional thing imaginable.

“I don’t want you ruining my slacks more than you already have with your saliva,” Alastor groaned as he felt a strong wave of pleasure wash over him, his hips stuttering and his length stiffening.

“I want you to swallow,” He added, but he had no idea that you were prepared to do that since you started. You wanted to taste the warmth and stickiness of his cum. “Have I made myself clear?”

Still, you nodded, your eyes flitting up to him and palpitating as heaps of cum painted the roof of your mouth, and all while your own walls began to clench around the tendrils working away at your cunt. Their movements were sporadic and hastier than ever, but the filthiness of it all to you was just enough to have you finishing right after him, a streak of cum cascading down the corner of your mouth as you pulled away from his cock and parted your lips with a long whine of ecstasy.

“My, my, look at you,” Alastor spoke almost adoringly, relinquishing your hair to hold your face in his palm so gingerly. “You look like an absolute mess, my dear—like a virgin, I daresay.”

“Ass… asshole,” You muttered, glassy eyes staring back into his heavy-lidded gaze, but they were fixated on the streak on your skin. ���Just wait till I… till I peg you... then you’ll see what it’s like.”

His tendrils immediately vanished, leaving your cunt clenching around nothing. And while Alastor was unfamiliar with the term ���pegging,’ he had a general idea of what you meant, an amused chuckle seeping past his teeth as he reached out and pressed his thumb against the corner of your mouth. Ha! He would never allow you to take his body in such a way that would force him to submit to you, he thought as he wiped the evidence of his pleasure from your flushed skin.

“Is that any way to talk to your partner?” Alastor tsked with a semblance of disapproval etched onto his features, his thumb prodding at your lower lip. “Today’s generation has no manners.”

“We do, we just don’t blindly follow that whole ‘Respect your elders’ bullshit,” You giggled as your tongue greedily darted past your lips. “Not unless they return it, of course.”

By they, you meant him, and Alastor narrowed his eyes at that. However, you weren’t put off by the look of obvious displeasure he loomed almost menacingly over you with, your tongue proceeding to swirl around his thumb, lapping up the remnants of cum that you had failed to swallow. In your defense, he knew what he had gotten himself into when he entered in a relationship with you… but you supposed your knack for all things history blinded him.

“You insolent little girl,” Alastor half-growled, and you would have laughed if he hadn’t retracted your thumb to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. “I shall do what your parents failed to do, then.”

You seized his face and craned your neck slightly, lips slotting against his so perfectly; and you stood up from your place on the ground, too, knees trembling and aching from the carpet fibers that had burned your skin. But at least he helped you up halfway into your pathetic ascent, a tendril manifesting around your waist and bringing you up onto his lap, soft cock grazing your clothed core as it relinquished you. You yelped, but he swallowed it with a gentle squeeze of your hips.

“Like my daddy?” You murmured sensually into the kiss, to tease him, to rile him up. He loathed when you called him that, and the rude strike he dealt to the swell of your ass showed it. “Hey!”

‘Don’t call me that,’ he told you with an authority that had your back arching and your chest pressing into his. His cock also stirred awake against you, but he could not go at it again—no, not when he wasn’t ready to. No matter how powerful, how confident, and how intimidating he could be even on the most normal of days, he was still a virgin. And if he hadn’t used his tendrils on you, you were certain that he would have given you more than just a breathy moan.

Perhaps a bleat… which you were also certain he would have given you if you would have slowly reached behind him and wrapped your hand around that tuft of fur below his spine. His tail. You sucked in Alastor’s lower lip and sunk your teeth into the swollen flesh, eliciting a grunt from his throat. He had no idea what sort of sinful thoughts were swirling in your mind. His tail, his ears, his antlers—you would tug and pull at each and every one of them next time.

[teatreeoilll]

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 (𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐗 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮)

˚• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° .

w/c - 1.4k content - MDNI! 18 + ! fem!reader, porn, Gojo eats you out while you sit on Geto's lap. That's it. That's the plot.

• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . 

Geto loves it when you sit in his lap. He loves it so much that sometimes he can't help himself; he puts a large arm around you first, nuzzling his face into your hair to smell its sweet scent, almost intoxicated. You draw closer to him; it's hard not to when the pads of his fingers begin to draw soothing patterns on your shoulder.

It's just a regular Tuesday night, and some average heist movie is playing idly on the television, and neither you, Geto, or Gojo - who made himself at home in your and Suguru's shared apartment with his feet crossed over on the coffee table - are paying too much mind to it.

You watch Gojo reach a pale, veiny arm into the bag of sweets. He takes out a piece of candy and unwraps it slowly, and you notice how his tongue darts out just a bit before he puts the chocolate candy in his mouth.

"Want one?" Gojo asks as he's about to take another one, and something in his small smirk when he says that makes your muscles tense.

With his hand still around you, Geto notices that - it's not the first time he spots it - he already took note of the light red flush that covers your cheeks when his best friend comes over after a workout with his shirt too tight from being drenched in sweat, or when you look just a moment too long into Gojo's blue eyes when you greet him before your eyes dart to the floor, the corners of your lips twitching up. Not that you ever do or say anything; it's all so innocent and sweet that Geto can't help but savor it, knowing his girlfriend's dirty little secret crush.

"Oh - no, thanks," you smile back at Gojo and lean further into Suguru's side, fixing your eyes on the screen.

Geto's arm around you tightens, and he reaches his other arm under your thighs to lift you up a bit and pull you on his lap. The heat spreads quickly on your cheeks, "S-Suguru," you whisper, fumbling away from his grasp, "not now." Geto knows you're not too much into public displays of affection, but the thought itches his mind, and his trousers grow uncomfortably tight.

Geto pulls you on top of him anyway, and Gojo's ever-perceptive pale-blue eyes stray away from the screen to land on your flushed face.

"Don't be shy," Geto whispers as his hand brushes the hair away from the back of your neck. His heavy breathing warms your skin, "We're all friends here, aren't we?" He raises his arm to grab you by the side of the face, turning it for your eyes to land on Gojo as he presses chaste kisses over your neck.

"S-Suguru," you whimper, feeling his stiff cock rubbing on your lower back through his trousers, "not - " but you can hardly breathe when you notice the sly smirk plastered on Gojo's lips and the way his jaw clenches each time you try to wriggle away from Suguru's touch.

"Satoru's a good friend, don't you think?" Geto urges, his hand leaving your face to brush over your thigh, raising the hem of your skirt, "I don't think you ever told him what a good friend he is, did you?"

"I don't think she did, Suguru," Gojo suddenly says, his eyes narrowing when the blush on your cheeks deepens to a crimson shade, "but I guess it's my fault," he sighs dramatically as he runs a hand through his white hair, "I don't think I ever showed her what a good friend I am. How's she supposed to know?"

Suguru chuckles, shaking your body along with him, "I guess she isn't," He runs his hand up your thigh to slide his fingers over your drenched panties, and you shudder, "But she wants you to show her. Don't you, princess?"

All you manage is a stifled mm-hmm before Gojo pushes the coffee table away, and it screeches as it reaches the middle of the living room, making space for him to kneel and settle himself between your thighs.

You gulp when you feel Gojo's hand run up your thighs, grabbing the sides of your underwear to pull them off, and you shiver at the touch of his warm hands running down along your legs together with your panties. He throws them on the floor and looks at you from beneath his long white eyelashes. The air gets trapped in your lungs.

"Come on, princess," Suguru's voice purrs in your ear as he spreads his legs, your own legs on either of his, revealing your wet cunt to Gojo's eager eyes, "Tell Satoru what a good friend he is, or he won't know."

"Y-You're a very good - " and Gojo reaches a long finger to skim along your folds, "Friend - Fuck - " you gasp.

"That's not nice," Geto chastises in your ear, his palms holding your thighs spread, and you place your hands on top of them, digging your fingers into them to steady yourself.

"It's okay, Suguru," Gojo smirks as his face draws closer to your clit, licking a teasing stripe along it, and you feel him smiling against your cunt, "She'll be nice in a minute."

Gojo's tongue begins lapping at your folds, and your thighs jolt, wanting desperately to close on his head only for Geto to hold them tighter in place, "Satoru - Fuck - " you moan, feeling Geto's cock twitch against your lower back.

"Feels good?" Geto murmurs, and you feel Gojo's two long fingers hover at your entrance before pushing in teasingly slow, his tongue still flicking at your clit.

"So sweet," Gojo pulls away from your clit, his mouth drenched in your essence as he works you open with his fingers, licking his lips clean, "If you told me she tastes so sweet, we would've done this a lot sooner."

Geto's chaste kisses on your neck turn to soft nibbles on the soft skin there as he groans every time your body twitches, letting him have a bit of delicious friction on his clothed cock, "Shit," he groans into your neck. He pulls his hand off of one of your thighs, running his fingers along your wet cunt to collect your essence before lifting them up to his mouth, licking them clean, "You are, so sweet."

Gojo's fingers pick up a ruthless pace, the pads of his fingers abusing the gummy spot inside you, "So needy," he smirks when he feels you clench around his fingers, and your vision nearly blurs when his tongue laps at your folds again, your hand darting out to grab strands of white hair to make sure he doesn't pull away again.

"Ah - Fuck - " you moan out as you writhe and squirm at the dizzying feeling of Gojo's fingers nudging your sweet spot, the heat pooling in your stomach as a Geto still holds you in place, "Shit - 'Toru - I - "

The lewd squelching noises coming from your wet cunt fill the room, and your back arches, tension coiling in your stomach as you almost instinctively turn your head to Suguru, who shakes his head. "It's okay princess," Geto's fingers grip your chin to tilt it down at Satoru, "You can look at him."

And you watch Gojo's blue eyes, desperate moans mixed with cusses escaping your lips as he looks up at you. His tongue still works hungrily on your clit, and his fingers push deeper and deeper with each erratic thrust while his free hand rubs his erection through his trousers for some relief.

The coil in your stomach snaps, and your release drenches Satoru's lips and chin as his movements finally slow down. Your nails dig into his scalp as you ride out your high on the slowing pumps of his fingers. He slides his fingers out, "'Toru - " you whimper when his tongue glides one more time against your sensitive clit.

You feel Geto's unsteady breathing at your neck as he locks eyes with Gojo, giving him a nod. Gojo rises from his knees, his face an inch away from yours, "You have one more in you, princess?" He asks but doesn't wait for an answer before pressing his slick-drenched lips against yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he moans at the feeling of your release rolling off his tongue onto yours, the sweet aftertaste of the candy he ate still present on his tongue.

He pulls out of the kiss, and you turn to Suguru, who eagerly pushes his tongue in your mouth, "I bet you do," Gojo teases, and you feel him between your legs again, pressing soft, wet kisses to your inner thigh.

[little-annie]

How they got stuck sharing the only remaining bed in the Hopper-Byers family home when they came to visit, they'll never know. (It involved some meddling on both Robin's and Dustin's behalf….. and Joyce and Hopper and Jonathan and El and Will, and literally everyone else who thinks they just need to figure their shit out and get together already.)

But they did.

And Christ if they weren't pissy about it.

They were roommates for God's sake, they saw enough of each other as is. But noooo, they had to get stuck bunking with each other for the weekend too.

They'd began bickering almost immediately when they'd entered the room and saw the state of their situation.

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, no. Fuck you Harrington. I'm older-’

“By like a year -”

“I'm older and my poor boy bones are brittle. I get the bed.”

“Poor boy bones.” Steve huffs to himself, taking one quick glance at Eddie and beginning to strip, hoping that if he gets into bed first they won't have to continue this argument.

Eddie catches on almost immediately, undoing his stupid handcuff belt buckle with little struggle and kicking himself out of his jeans so fast he nearly eats the edge of the dresser to his right. “You're young.” Eddie states while trying to catch his breath, “The floor will do you just fine.”

They're both down to their underwear in a matter of seconds. Belts clanking, denim dropping and fabric flying. Eddie in his boxers, Steve in his white briefs that he's sure he hears Eddie snicker at even in his apparent displeasure.

Soon enough they're both trying to climb into bed, pushing and shoving, throwing elbows when the other one kicks out a bony knee. Both scrambling to get under the covers and claim their right to the bed.

Pulling the lone pillow swiftly beneath his head, Eddie grumbles. “What are you doing?”

“Getting into bed.”

“It's a twin Harrington.”

“Yeah and my hips hurt.” Steve answers, driving an elbow with regrettable strength into Eddie's ribs as he continues to try to gain some purchase on the narrow bed. “I'm not sleeping on the floor.” He wiggles around some more, at the moment hoping Eddie might just fall off onto the floor. “Shove over.”

Maybe they can manage to share.

“It's a twin!” Squawks Eddie while bracing himself against the nightstand, pushing Steve back with cold feet to his shins.

“And give me some of the blankets.”

“There's only one pillow!”

“So share.”

Both huffing, wriggling around, pushing and shoving, pulling at the single blanket and the only pillow, they try to get comfy on their backs. Which won't happen because they can't fucking fit that way. The goddamn bed is too narrow and Eddie's bony ass everything is digging into Steve's side as he hangs with half of his ass off of the bed.

“Lay on your side.” Eddie grumbles with a shove.

“What? Why?”

“Because we don't fit like this, Princess. Roll onto your side.”

Ignoring how that nickname makes his cheeks flare in the moonlit room, Steve starts to roll over, leaning to his left and moving to put Eddie at his back. Maybe that way he'll actually get some peace and qui-

“Not like that!” Eddie all but screeches, shoving at Steve's back so hard he nearly falls off, "You want my dick pressed to your ass all night?”

Truthfully that doesn't sound as awful as Eddie's making it out to be. The prick. Steve thinks he has a rather nice ass and Eddie would only be so lucky.

“Well you want your dick pressed against my dick all night? That's the only other option, Munson.”

Eddie clenches his jaw, sighs dramatically and mutters something to himself that Steve's not quite able to catch, before he actually speaks, “Fine. Fine! Just roll over so you're facing me, but just keep your hips back.”

‘Keep your hips back,’ as if Steve would just roll over dick first and press himself right up against Eddie.

Steve tries and fails to muffle his irritated groan as he rolls over to where he's facing Eddie on the same flat pillow.

God they're close.

Noses nearly touching.

In his moment of bitterness and just pure irritation at the situation, Steve had forgotten how pretty Eddie was.

His eyes are so dark in the moonlight.

The rest of him blanketed in a hazy midnight blue, his freckles akin to a star speckled sky.

Steve could never get tired of this view.

“Better?” Steve whispers, trying and failing to ignore the flutter of butterflies in his stomach.

Eddie's eyes search his for what feels like aeons before he answers. “Fuck you.” There's no real heat to his words, tone more so matching Steve's as he smiles with a lopsided smirk.

Steve rolls his eyes, teasing, if only to see Eddie sputter, “Mmmm, I'll take a rain check on that.” He delights in Eddie's choked off gasp before he continues, “But I will warn you, I'm a cuddler.”

“Course you are.” Eddie grumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest and closing his eyes with a flutter of his long dark lashes.

After a moment of quiet Steve takes a chance and presses his foot to Eddie's, soft beneath his sole, and so fucking cold.

Eddie doesn't pull away.

“G’ night.” He whispers instead, pressing his foot just a touch closer, the breath of his words falling against Steve's lips.

“Good night.”

—

The next morning they wake in a tangled mess.

It's hot and sweaty and they're physically stuck together at all points where naked skin meets.

Which is pretty much everywhere.

Eddie's one hand is in Steve's hair as if throughout the night he felt the need to play with it, and his other is so tightly grasped to Steve's bare waist it almost hurts.

His nose is otherwise buried in Steve's neck where he can hear Eddie's faint snores and is sure there's the wetness of drool lying along his clavicle.

It's all a little disgusting.

But also kind of wonderful.

His one arm is numb where it lies beneath Eddie's head.

Steve shuffles enough to separate at least some of their sweat damp skin, noticing in the same instant how where Eddie's plastered against his hip, he's also obviously hard.

So much so that when Steve looks down there's a damp spot in his underwear.

Oh.

Maybe he'll take that rain check sooner rather than later.

Eddie groans in his sleep, hot air breathed against Steve's neck as he rolls his hips and this time lets a soft moan escape.

Yep, definitely taking that rain check now.

Maybe they'll figure their shit out sooner than everyone had anticipated.

“Get off of me, I wanna suck your-”

😉 The End

[paradiseprincesss]

please, please, please | jonathan crane

please please please by sabrina carpenter has been playing in my head nonstop...and the music video? that has jonathan crane and his gf written ALL over it. also i promise I AM WORKING ON REQUESTS i swear.

summary: you warn jonathan not to embarrass you at your dinner party — you know how he is sometimes. thankfully, disasters were avoided during dinner and as a reward, you let him try something new in the bedroom with you that he's been wanting to do.

warnings: smut, p in v, fingering, sex toys (butt plug), anal but only using the toy lol, jonathan kills someone, talk of dead bodies lmfao? mdni 18+ only

word count: 3.9k

masterlist

"what did you do?!" you whisper yell at jonathan, who was currently staring at you with hearts in his eyes and a sheepish smile.

"i didn't know he was going to react this way, swear it," he says quietly, "i just wanted to see what a concentrated dose would do."

you look at the man slumped over on your apartment couch, seemingly dead. you turn your head to jonathan silently, looking at him incredulously as he kept that sheepish smile plastered on his face.

your boyfriend, doctor jonathan crane, had "accidentally" — that's what he claims — murdered your electrician with a too high dose of his fear toxin. he swore that he had thought some man had broken into your house and he was only trying to protect you; which yes, you found sweet, but there was also the issue of the now dead electrician in your living room.

"i swear baby," he says with his hands up defensively, "i thought he broke in."

"i told you that the electrician was coming by today!"

jonathan laughs awkwardly for a moment, but he pulled you close and gave you a little kiss on the forehead. "i'm sorry darling. don't be mad, please."

you let him pull you close, relaxing into his touch, "jonathan, what are we supposed to do with his body? we have dinner guests coming over in less than two hours."

"i got it," he assures you, "don't worry. i'm sure if i just hide his body in the meantime, nobody will notice."

you groan, wriggling out of his grasp as you leave him to it. you get ready, doing your makeup and hair, before picking out on outfit for your dinner party.

you and jonathan recently moved in together, and though you had been dating for quite some time, he hadn't really met your friends all that much. sure, he'd seen them a handful of times, but you wanted your friends to get to know him better — i mean hey, they had asked to.

honestly, you thought you had good judgement and you thought you had good taste. i mean, you managed to snag a handsome, intelligent, financially stable doctor; what else could a girl ask for? and look — yes, you may of had a small, tiny, little track record of dating mentally unstable, dangerous, and wild men but you swore jonathan was different.

he wasn't unstable, dangerous and wild. no, no, no — he was calculated, precise and a murderer! three totally different traits than what you usually go for.

"look at you, baby," jonathan cooed as he watched you walk into the kitchen, "you're the prettiest, my god."

you blush, shaking your head bashfully as you pull him into a kiss, admiring his every feature. "i love you, jon."

"i love you, too."

"but listen to me," you say softly, trying your hardest to sound menacing, "you're a doctor — so act like one. please don't kill one of our guests or anything."

"only for you, darling." he says with a smile, hands resting on your hips.

the doorbell to your apartment rang, and you made your way to the door with jonathan, hand in hand. "oh, and one more thing," you say quickly reaching to unlock your front door, "i beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker."

jonathan holds back a laugh at your not-so-threatening threat as you let your friends in, and the night goes by without a hitch. you don't know where jonathan has hid the dead body in your apartment, but you don't care as long as your guests don't fucking find it.

"it was great getting to see you two again. you guys are so wonderful together. congratulations on the new place, by the way!" your friend tells you as you all wrap up dinner, a few of the other dinner guests still finishing off their wine.

"thank you!" you gush, smiling happily, "we really love it here, right jonathan?"

"yes, darling. it's quite lovely, isn't it?" he replies softly, caressing your hand with his.

"your patio is gorgeous, by the way — great view of the city. we should have a drink out there, it's still early!" another one of your guests suggests, and jonathan shoots you a look.

oh, so that's where he hid the body — on the fucking balcony where anyone could see.

"o-oh!" you stammer, "um, you know, the summer weather is great. wonderful, really — but like, isn't the inside of our brand new apartment just so lovely, too? like look at our new ceiling fan — wow."

your friend looks at you with a confused expression, and she laughs a little awkwardly. "yeah totally, the interior design is so...great."

"yeah, so i have a fun idea," you say rather enthusiastically, to which jonathan has to look away to stop himself from laughing, "maybe let's stay inside? i know your craving some fresh air, but the ceiling fan is so nice."

"darling," jonathan interrupts softly, smiling at you then looking at your friends, "why don't we just schedule a time another day to have drinks all together? i'd love to keep the night going, but i'm afraid i have to work particularly early tomorrow at the asylum."

everyone "ahh'd" in union as they respected what he did for work — he was one of gothams finest, most renown psychiatrists, after all. surprisingly, tonight it was jonathan saving you from slipping up instead of you coming to save him.

as your dinner guests left one by one, you shut the door and locked it as you turn to jonathan with a sweet smile. "thank you for that, i wasn't particularly planning on my friends seeing a dead body out on the balcony tonight."

"relax, baby," jonathan cooed, "i told you i'd handle it, right?"

you look up into your boyfriends beautiful, pale, blue eyes — for someone so notoriously dangerous, he sure was gentle and sweet with you. of course, jonathan did have a soft spot for you and you only.

he would openly admit it, too.

"right, sorry," you whisper as he leans down from his towering height to kiss you, "i trust you."

he hums in satisfaction, then captured your lips in a kiss. his gentle hands roamed across your body, and suddenly, jonathan was pulling you flush against him. through broken kisses and breathless panting, his hand found it's way to your neck. when he gave it a light, experimental squeeze, you moaned into the kiss — he knew this was exactly how to get you going.

"go to the bedroom," he commands softly, "and be ready when i get there, darling."

you look at him inquisitively for a second, but as soon as he raises a brow; you don't ask any questions. he goes into the living room to rummage around for something, and you make your way into your shared bedroom.

you slip out of your evening attire, keeping the lacy, black, intimate lingerie you had underneath on as you patiently wait on the bed for your boyfriend. after a few moments, he returns with something in his hands — a small, dainty, pink gift box with a white ribbon adorned around it.

"i was good for you tonight, right darling?" jonathan asked softly, handing the pink gift box over to you as you start to unravel the bow on top.

"of course you were." you sigh, smiling dopily at him.

he hummed as you opened the box and your eyes went wide, "well, now i want you to be good for me, baby."

inside the dainty, pink, gift box was a butt plug, and on the end of it was a shimmering, baby pink, sparkly gem. "jonathan," you blush profusely, "y-you wanna do...?"

"i just want you to try it out while i fuck you, darling. see how it feels — it's an experiment i've been wanting to try out with you for a while." he says lowly, watching you like a hawk as you took it out of the box.

"i've never done anything...there." you say shyly, and he kisses you gently; of course he'd see sex as a way to experiment.

this was a man of science we're talking about, after all.

"that's alright," he assures you with a quiet chuckle, "i'll guide you through it, okay? you trust me, don't you?"

"yeah," you giggle, "okay — fine, but just this once."

jonathan eyed you down in your black, lacy lingerie as you shuffled around on the bed, bending over as you reached for the lube in the bedside drawer. he had to stop himself from groaning aloud when he saw your already wet cunt soaking through your undergarments — all bent over and needy for his fat cock.

you tossed the bottle of lube over to the side of the bed, crawling over to jonathan as his eyes turned three shades darker at the sight. after you crawled into his lap, he slowly unhooked your very lacy, very see through bralette, slipping it right off your shoulders.

his hands immediately came to paw at your tits as you rested your head on his collarbone, leaning back at the feeling of his strong hands tweaking your perked up nipples.

"jonathan," you breathlessly moan, "please."

"be good for me, baby — be patient." he whispered against your ear, nipping it lightly.

his feather light touch traced down, further and further until he got to your underwear. his fingers hooked into the lace trim, gently and ever so slowly helping you out of the undergarment. you felt your breath hitch lightly as the cold air hit your bare, soaked core, and you leaned further back into jonathan.

jonathan — who by the way, was still fully clothed — swiped two fingers through your dripping folds gently, causing you to jump at the sudden pleasurable feeling. "you're soaked," he noticed, placing a kiss down your neck, "i've barely touched you."

"i-i know," you whimper, "but—"

"i bet you liked it when i said i wanted to experiment on you, hm? did that turn you on, darling? knowing that i'm studying your every reaction to my touch?"

you bit your lip as he spoke, cutting you off as you whimpered under his touch. yes — he was on the dot with his assumptions and observations. sure, you'd never used a butt plug before but hey, if it was with jonathan, you were pretty much down for anything.

"yes," you admitted breathlessly, "fuck, jon."

it was strange — the thought of him studying you during sex in such a...clinical way. it was a major turn on for you, in fact, you didn't know if you'd ever been so turned on before. jonathan proceeded to slowly insert a finger into your drooling hole, causing you to let out a choked moan.

"yeah, you're fucking dripping." he observed, peppering kisses down your neck and shoulders as you relaxed your head onto his. after he fucked you with one finger for no more than a minute, he was suddenly inserting another — it was no issue though, you were so wet that his second finger slipped in without resistance.

you arched your back instinctively, letting out choked, breathless moans as you whimpered his name sweetly. it was like music to jonathan's ears — hearing you fall apart as he carefully, slowly, and precisely turned you into nothing in just mere minutes.

"s-so close!" you squeaked out, and jonathan was suddenly drawing his fingers out of you, causing your jaw to drop and you to turn around to look at him with disbelief.

"i know," he cooed, "now, turn back around and get on all fours. face down, ass up."

you looked at him with surprise, but jonathan was always in control in the bedroom — this wasn't new by any means, but it sure was hot. listening and hanging onto his every word, you do as he asks, getting on all fours as you hear him shuffle around behind you.

with your ass up and your pretty face down, you bite your lip as you hear the pop of the lube bottle cap being opened. you gasp quietly as you feel a foreign, cold, silicone texture poke at your ass — it was almost embarrassing how wet this was making you.

"look at how wet you're getting, and i haven't even put the toy in your ass yet." jonathan chuckled lowly, feeling his cock straining so hard against his pants that he thought the zipper might pop open.

"s-shut up." you try to retaliate, but it comes out more like a broken, desperate plea.

"m'gonna push it in now, okay? not all the way, i promise i'll be gentle — and slow." jonathan says softly, his voice easing your nerves.

though you wished you could see his face, the thought was soon wiped from your mind as you felt the silicone toy being pushed into you, stretching your ass out. thankfully, it wasn't painful. it felt uncomfortable at first, but the more he pushed, the more you got used to the stretch.

"how's it feeling, baby?" jonathan asked lowly, watching your glistening cunt clench around nothing.

"s'okay," you respond, "is it almost all the way in?"

"almost, just a little more to go. you look so good like this, darling. letting me do whatever i want to you, and you just take it like a good girl."

his words made your cheeks burn, and you whine as you felt him give the toy one more gentle push into your ass. it felt good, surprisingly, but it also felt full. you felt full.

"is it hurting?" jonathan asked with concern, and you shook your head no, finally looking behind you as you saw his face.

his cheeks were dusted with a pink colour, and his lips looked plush. he was extremely turned on — that much was obvious with just the way he looked. your eyes trailed down to the tent in his pants; he was so hard it looked like his trousers were about to rip.

"feels really full, though," you giggle softly, "i'm guessing you like the view?"

"god, baby," he groans, "i wish you could see what i'm seeing right now — your ass up with a pretty, pink gemstone in it. all stretched out and waiting for me to fuck your pretty little cunt, hm?"

"mm, y-yeah." you moan as he reaches for your hips, gently turning you onto your back as he pushes you into the soft pillows.

the butt plug still felt a little odd to you as you switched positions, now laying on your back, but it felt good at the same time. as your mind was focused on the feeling of that, you look back up at jonathan to see him desperately trying to undress himself. as controlled and precise as the doctor was — he was a needy mess when it came to you.

"hurry up, doctor crane," you tease, biting your lip as he huffs, clearly affected by your little comment, "i'm so fucking wet—"

"i'm gonna fuck you till you can't think anymore," he interrupted, his voice strained, "you're going to be so full with my cum."

his suit jacket was long gone, and now so was his white button down and tie. his trousers had seemingly disappeared somewhere as well, and his leaking, hard, veiny cock sprung free, hitting his stomach lightly as he took it out.

within seconds, your legs were spread for him. pupils blown wide.m jonathan was positioned between your legs, the tip of his cock rubbing up against your dripping cunt, and you whined when he teased your folds. "how does it feel?" jonathan asks softly, just barely putting the head in, "you feel nice and full, darling? all stretched out?"

"s-so full," you pant, "but i need your cock — so badly."

he smirks to himself; his ego clearly being stroked with the way he had you, his beautiful girlfriend, in bed begging for him and letting him do whatever he pleases to any of your holes.

with a sudden thrust, he slid into you with ease from how slick your cunt was, and you gasped at the feeling of his cock filling you up. jonathan set a moderate pace; not too fast but not too slow, either.

"does it feel good, baby? having both your holes all stuffed?" he asks, fucking into you gently as you struggled to speak.

"y-yes!" you said to him, voice shaky, "feels so good, f-fuck—"

jonathan continued to thrust his thick cock into your tight, wet hole and within seconds, you were cockdrunk. your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you moaned his name over and over, incoherently begging for something. you weren't sure what exactly you were begging for, but as long as you were begging — jonathan was satisfied.

this is how he liked you — fucked out and willing to do anything for him. to be fair, he would do absolutely anything (and i mean anything, including murder), for you too. you were his girl, his everything, what he needed in his life — so naturally, nothing was off the table when it came to what he'd do for you.

but nothing beat the feeling of you submitting to him like this.

"god, you're already close, aren't you, my love?" jonathan asked softly, picking up his pace as his cock brushed up against your walls.

he was right — you were close. the way his thick, veiny cock stretched you open while you were stuffed with a toy in your other hole had you feeling ready to tip over the edge in just seconds. "insatiable," jonathan commented as he plowed into you faster and harder, "that's what you are, darling. look at my needy girl; she needs all over holes filled and stretched, all the fucking time."

his filthy, degrading (but also very hot) comments tipped you over the edge, and before you knew it — you were coming undone all over his cock as he groaned. a plethora of whines and pleas left your lips, but you were so gone from the way he was fucking you stupid, you didn't even realize what was said in that moment.

before you could register what was happening, jonathan pulled out of you quickly. he flipped you onto your stomach, being quite gentle with you, as he grabbed onto your hips, indicating he wanted you to be on all fours again. understanding what he was asking, you did what you knew to do — be face down, ass up.

"jesus," jonathan groans from behind you, giving your ass a light spank, "fuck, look at that."

you whine at the gentle spank he gave you, and his fingers brushed up against your other hole, where the butt plug was sitting. "j-jon," you whined, "please."

you heard him chuckle lowly, his cock brushing up against your folds once more as he slowly split you open on his cock. he was enjoying this far too much — the sight of you with that pink gemstone in your ass and the way your cunt took his cock deeper and deeper with every thrust? it was driving him insane.

"fucking beautiful," he groaned, "h-how'd you manage to get even tighter, baby?"

"f-feels so good, oh m-my god!" you started to scream into the pillows as one of jonathan's hands snaked down and started to rub at your clit.

as you were about to cum from the way he was rubbing your sensitive clit, he removed his hand which caused you to whine. he chuckled softly from behind you, fucking you into the mattress so deep and rough, you were for sure going to be sore for the next week to come.

suddenly, you gasped as your cunt started to flutter around jonathan's length. his hand that was previously on your clit, was now toying with the butt plug, teasingly pushing it in and out gently. he didn't pull it out all the way, but just ever so slightly — just enough so that every time he pushed it back in, you'd feel so full again.

"are you about to cum, baby?" jonathan asked sweetly, "are you about to cum on my cock?"

"f-fuck, yes! yes!" you screamed as jonathan fucked you even faster.

"s-shit, me too," he groaned, "come now, baby — fuuuck!"

as your vision went white and you creamed his cock, jonathan gave you a few more harsh thrusts before he spilled his cum into you. hot ropes of cum covered your walls, filling your hole up completely.

as both of you were coming down from your intense highs, jonathan pulled out after a moment. his cum started to leak from your cunt, and he took two fingers to push it back in — causing you to whine at the sensation.

his demeanour changed the second you two weren't fucking anymore — he was soft, doting, and loving towards you as soon as he cleaned you up. he helped you into his arms, pulling you close as the two of you curled up under the sheets in the crisp, cool, air-conditioned bedroom.

"that was something," jonathan says, being the first one to break the silence, "did you like it? i didn't hurt you, right?"

"no, you didn't hurt me at all, baby," you laughed softly, kissing him on the cheek, "and yeah, it was really ejoyable."

"i see. well, i'm glad you enjoyed it, darling." he smiles at you lovingly, pulling you into a gentle, passionate kiss.

as you wrapped your arms around his neck, you looked up at your devoted boyfriend with the most loving, adorable, and kind look that jonathan had ever seen. "i love you, jonathan. that was fun."

"i love you too, darling," he says, but he pauses before getting up with a sigh, "i'm sorry to cut this moment short, my dear, but i do believe that i have a certain...body to dispose of in a timely manner."

"you and your pillow talk, jonathan. it never seizes to amaze me — last week it was about that patient you terrorized at work and this week, it's the dead electrician on our balcony." you said with a small smile, biting your lip as you teased your deranged, doctor boyfriend.

"well, all i can say is that i'm lucky to have you in my life, my dear." he said softly, looking at you with those gorgeous, pale, icy blue eyes of his. "i truly do love you."

as he turned around to look at you once more time before leaving the bedroom to go deal with the body on the balcony, you smile at him sweetly. he had his bodies on the balcony and you had your skeletons in your closet — you just understood him.

everyone has their ghosts, right? and plus, as long as nobody else knew about the whole scarecrow and murderer thing, then it would be fine. it would aways be fine.

"i truly love you too, jonathan," you said after a moment, and you could've sworn that you saw the scarecrow himself start to blush, "but if you wanna go and be stupid, don't do it in front of me."

he shakes his head on his way out — presumably to dispose of the body in ways you didn't really want to know of. jonathan's voice called out back to you as he made his way to the balcony doors.

"noted, my love!"

@girlinterrupted505 @ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a

@xanaxiii @nocturnest @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones 

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @dolleyednymphette @kpopgirlbtssvt 

@ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebelleshelby @wiseyouthinfluencer 

@aprilsfrog05 @minedofmoria @strangeobsessed @5tud10-54r4h @franzine-xii @stsrfujid

[redvexillum]

Hello Anonnie, thank you for feeding the great Vexitober 2024. I also had a headache today, so this was an incredibly self-indulgent piece. I hope you'll see your dentist soon, 'cos things are about to get tooth-rotting fluffy.

Pain pulsed relentlessly through your skull, like a hammer repeatedly striking, each throb sending waves of agony through your temples. It wasn’t just your head, though – the stabbing sensation behind your eyes made it feel as if a thousand daggers were tearing through them.  

You whimpered softly, curling up on your side in a tight fetal position, your ears flattening painfully against the back of your head. Even your small, normally perky tail dropped, pressing against your body as if trying to shield you from the unbearable ache.  

This was Hell in its truest form. Wasn’t this place supposed to be torture for your soul? You’d never thought that meant literally headaches that felt like they could split your skull open. Could souls even get headaches? Apparently so, because the searing pain you were enduring right now was unlike anything you’d experienced in life. It was as though the universe had decided to answer your rhetorical question with a sliver platter of misery.  

A sudden, lively burst of static followed by a too-cheerful voice shattered what little peace you’d managed to carve out. “Good morning, my little doe!” Alastor’s familiar, crackling tone cut through the air like a sharp knife. Normally, the sound of his voice would send a thrill of excitement through you, his energy infectious and wondrous. But right now, it was nothing short of torture. You let out a high-pitched whimper, your ears pressing harder against your head as if you could block out the noise.  

You burrowed deeper into the blanket, pulling it up over your head in a desperate attempt to shield yourself from the light, the sound, the world. But nothing could block out Alastor, not when he had his sights set on you.  

The mattress dipped as he sat down beside you before you heard the rustle of your blankets. A moment later, his face appeared, his mischievous red eyes glowing from underneath the covers. “Oh, darling, you’ll have to do better than that if you want to hide from me.” His grin widened, as smug as ever, his amusement palpable even in the low light.  

You pouted, squeezing your eyes shut as the pain surged again, sharp and unwelcoming. “Alastor, please…” you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. “My head…it hurts so much. Can’t you just let me rest for a little while?” Your hands came up to cradle your face, fingers pressing against your temples in a futile attempt to massage away the ache. But the pain didn’t subside. It only worsened, making you feel small, vulnerable, and utterly helpless.  

“Oh, darling,” Alastor cooed, his voice soft yet dripping with that ever-present playfulness. His slender fingers wrapped around your wrists, gently but insistently pulling them away from your face. You blinked up at him, surprised by the tenderness in his touch, expecting something more teasing, more dismissive.  

Instead, he squirmed his way into your makeshift blanket fort, wriggling closer until he was lying next to you on his side, his body warm and solid against yours. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, but this time they weren’t filled with the usual mischief. Leaning in, he pressed his forehead gently against yours, and you shivered as strands of his hair brushed against your cheeks, tickling you with their softness.  

“Can you make the headache go away?” You whined softly, your voice small, fragile. It felt almost childish to ask, and you half-expected him to laugh, to make some cheeky remark about walking off the pain, as if a little stroll around the town would solve everything.  

But to your surprise, his eyes softened even more, and instead of teasing, he nuzzled the tip of your nose with his. The affectionate gesture was so out of character, yet so heart-melting sweet, it made your chest tighten with warmth. “My, and here I thought you were just trying to shirk away from your cleaning duties today,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a whisper. “You really must be in pain, darling.” 

You scoffed, though there was no real bite behind it. “I’d much rather clean than deal with this awful headache,” you muttered, closing your eyes tight, trying to will the pain away. It throbbed persistently, but Alastor’s closeness offered a strange sort of comfort, his presence like a buffer between you and the agony.  

Suddenly, you felt the warmth of his hand as they cupped your cheek, his touch feather-light but grounding. His fingers slowly drifted down, tracing the line of your jaw, then brushing softly against your neck before resting in the crook of your shoulder. The weight of his hand was soothing, almost as if he could absorb some of your pain. “Can you sit up, darling?” He asked softly, his voice a gentle coaxing, not the usual commanding tone you were used to.  

Your eyes fluttered open, momentarily thrown off by the tenderness in his voice. Alastor – being gentle? It was a rare sight, but one that sent a ripple of warmth through you. Nodding slowly, you pushed yourself up from the bed, feeling the weight of your headache still pressing down but slightly less suffocating.  

As soon as you were upright, a sudden shift occurred – his shadows, inky and alive, coiled around you in a silky embrace. Before you could react, the world around you blurred and changed. In the blink of an eye, the soft blankets of your bed were replaced by the cool, marshy grass of Alastor’s bayou. You were in his room, specifically on the side of his pocket dimension where the air was always thick with the scent of earth and wood, and the stars above twinkled like diamonds against the forever-evening sky.  

You blinked, disoriented for a second, but the moment passed when you felt him behind you, his presence solid and reassuring. Alastor had positioned himself with his legs stretched out, encasing you within the circle of his body, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders. Slowly, with a gentleness that seemed foreign to him, he began to knead the tension out of your muscles, his long fingers working in small, firm circles.  

“Oh,” you gasped, the sound escaping before you could stop it, your body melting into his touch. Your eyes fluttered half-closed, a hazy warmth spreading through you as the tension in your muscles slowly ebbed away. His hands moved with surprising skill, untying knots you hadn’t even realized were there, each press of his fingers sending a soothing wave of relief through your body.  

When he pressed a particular spot – right between your upper spine and just below your neck – you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped you, your head falling back against him. The sensation was blissful, his fingers working wonders on the tightness in your shoulders and neck. “Y-you’re really good at this,” you mumbled, shivering as his fingers found another knot and worked it loose with practised ease.  

“I would hope so,” Alastor hummed, his voice low and smooth, with just the faintest edge of something possessive. “After all, only I know what my little doe needs.” There was a protective, almost territorial note in his voice, one that made your heart skip a beat.  

It wasn’t just the physical touch that made his words sink deep – it was the way you fit so perfectly into his world. You were one of the few deer demons in Hell who not only tolerated butthrived in his eccentric, chaotic company.  

He leaned down, his breath warm against your ear. “I can’t have my darling in pain,” he murmured, his hands never ceasing their gentle massage. “Especially when I’m the only one who knows how to make you feel better.” His tone was playful but layered with sincerity, a strange and intoxicating mixture of affection and mischief.  

His fingers slid up through your hair, claws barely grazing your scalp as a wave of tingles surged down your spine, leaving warmth and comfort in their wake. The sensation sent your tail into a gentle rhythm, pat pat patting against the grassy ground as you melted under his touch. Every scrape of his claws ignited a sense of pleasure you hadn’t realized you craved until now.  

“My,” Alastor’s voice dropped to a low, sultry tone, his breath hot against your nape. “You must really enjoy this, don’t you?” The teasing edge in his voice was unmistakable, and you could practically hear the smirk hidden in his words. His chuckle was soft, poorly masked behind the affectionate taunting, sending another shiver through you.  

“It’s not just me who enjoys this,” you huffed, your voice taking on a playful lilt as you tilted your head back slightly, hoping to guide his claws to that one perfect spot near the base of your fluffy ears. “You like it when I do this to you too, Alastor.” You sighed contentedly, the tension in your body easing as his claws finally grazed that elusive spot. His index finger trailed up gently, scratching just at the base of your left ear. 

Every time his claw scraped the sensitive cartilage, your ear twitched in response, and you found yourself leaning back against him more fully, savouring the warmth of his broad chest behind you.  

Alastor hummed, a low vibration that you could feel in the way his cheek rested on top of your head. His breath fanned through your hair with each exhale, carrying the faintest scent of something earthy and metallic. “I suppose I do enjoy it,” he mused, the words a soft hum against your ear. “But, darling, you don’t pamper me nearly enough. Why, I should be asking you to indulge me so!” His voice lifted, taking on a playful, dramatic tone that made you snort.  

You barked out a laugh, but the sudden movement sent a sharp stab of pain through your head, reminding you that the headache still lingered beneath the comfort. You hissed softly, wincing as the ache flared again, though it was noticeably dulled thanks to Alastor’s efforts.  

“Oh dear,” Alastor tutted, his voice dropping to something soft and almost chastising. His arms snaked around you, looping over your chest before pulling you down with him to the cool, marshy grass of the bayou floor. His warmth enveloped you as your back pressed against him, and despite the coolness of the evening air, the heat radiating from his body kept you wrapped in cozy contentment.  

In the distance, the soft croak of frogs and the hum of crickets filled the air, a soothing backdrop to the intimate bubble you both shared.  

With a gentle tug, he repositioned you so that your face was nestled against his chest, his legs tangling lazily with yours. The world seemed to slow down, and you felt your pulse start to sync with the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear. “Alastor?” You mumbled, trying to lift your head. But before you could fully raise yourself, his hand pressed softly against the back of your head, urging you to lay back down.  

“Shh, darling,” his whispered, his voice softer now, almost protective. “Just rest.” His fingers began to stroke through your hair again, the slow, repetitive motion sending waves of comfort and peace over you. With each gentle brush of his hand, it felt as though he was physically pulling the tension and pain away, little by little. 

You let out a soft sigh, surrendering to his touch as you relaxed fully against him. Your ears twitched at the soothing thud of his heartbeat. “It’s just a headache,” you murmured sleepily, your body going limp against him as the warmth and scent of him – of metal, earth, and something distinctly Alastor – enveloped you. “Hardly an illness.” You nuzzled further into his chest, inhaling deeply, letting the familiar, comforting scent ease the last remnants of pain away.  

“It’s too late for me, I’m already contaminated,” Alastor declared dramatically, his voice suddenly bursting with theatrical flair. “I suppose we’ll have to be quarantined here together, won’t we?” His chuckle was soft, turning into a wistful sigh as he relaxed further, his arms tightening around you protectively.  

You giggled softly at his antics, the sound vibrating against his chest. His dramatics never failed to make you smile, even in moments like this. His hand continued its slow, soothing stroke over your head, his touch like a balm against the sharp edges of the lingering headache. The pain, though still present, had dulled to a manageable hum, and soon, the gentle rhythm of his hand combined with the steady beat of his heart lulled you closer to sleep.  

“Together,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your eyelids grew heavier. The stars above twinkled softly, the night sky in his bayou serene and timeless. The world felt small and safe here, nestled in his arms, the pain fading into the background as sleep pulled you under.  

The last thing you felt before drifting off was the tender brush of Alastor’s hand stroking through your hair, and the soothing rise and fall of his chest beneath you – a steady, comforting lullaby in the heart of the bayou.  

Follow #vexitober 2024to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

[suntoru]

─ ✰ LOVER’S CURRENCY!

✧˚ · . ITOSHI SAE’S sneaky way he shows he cares!

— warnings: fluff, crackfic, whipped sae, maybe ooc?

— author’s note: guys this is my first bllk work please spare me, comments and tags are very much appreciated!

“itoshi sae.”

you cross your arms with a pout, hovering over him intimidatingly as he peels one eye open, lazily draped over the couch.

“hm?” he cocks his head slightly, a ghost of a smirk tracing over his lips. sighing in exasperation, you attempt to reassert your point by rather agressively squishing his cheek with your finger.

“you did it again.”

“did what?”

it’s infuriating. he’s feigning ignorance, choosing to act clueless when you know he knows exactly what you’re talking about.

the edges of his lips are the slightest bit upturned, a faint twinkle of mischief in his eyes, subtle details easily missed by the casual onlooker. but with you, he’s an exposed canvas, an open diary— you can read him like a book.

“don’t play dumb, sae, it’s not funny!” you whine, digging in your purse pocket, and grabbing your wallet to pull out a shiny, black credit card— his. you hand him the card, wordlessly demanding him to take it back. but of course, itoshi sae wouldn’t be itoshi sae without the theatrics— eyeing the card smugly as he gives it a once-over.

“that doesn’t look like mine.” you roll your eyes, done with his shenanigans as you huff in mild annoyance. seriously, he acts like such a child sometimes.

“how many times have i told you i can pay for things myself? and i want my card back too.”

this time, he’s the one to pout.

“don’t wanna.”

you’re about to retort something back when he pulls you closer by your waist, earning a yelp from you as you crash on top of him, letting out a small ‘oof’, his long limbs trapping you in place.

“what the— sae!” you grumble, and although it’s half-assed, you choose to squirm in his arms, still rather annoyed at his (endearing) habit of deceiving you into spending his money. still, he snuggles into you, letting out a small sigh of discontent as you keep wriggling around.

“would you stop that?” he scowls slightly, although he’s not really mad. “‘m trying to get comfortable.”

begrudgingly, you surrender to the warmth of his embrace, relenting to the pull of his affectionate cuddles, but not without flicking his forehead childishly first. he huffs brattily, but all complaints disappear as he feels your arms slinking around his neck, nuzzling into his chest.

“i hope you know i’m e-transferring you your money back.” you mumble under your breath as he delicately traces shapes on your skin. he abruptly stops, prompting you to look up at him in confusion.

you don’t expect him to suddenly jab at your sides sides, playfully assaulting your stomach as he continues his onslaught, generating a shriek of giggles and pleas to stop from you. you kick and squeal, but his grip is like iron, targeting all your ticklish spots.

“s-sae, please, i didn’t mean, i-it, i swear—”

you manage to gasp out, completely pooped out from laughing so hard, and after five, long, painful minutes, he finally relents, allowing you to catch your breath as you glare at him, face flushed, panting heavily as you attempt recover from his utterly ruthless attack.

“i swear, if you weren’t so pretty-” you start, but you’re cut off by a rare laugh. small, yet entrancing all the same. his eyes crinkle, letting out a tiny chuckle as he gazes at you with pure adoration in his crystalline teal eyes. your heart races in response, the sheer sweetness of the moment causes you to liquify into a puddle.

…you suppose it wouldn’t be the end of the world if you let him get away with it just this once.

©kaeffeinee 2023. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[azen13]

To Gaze at Polaris

Description: After you manage to escape Jing Yuan's home, the General chases after you to Aurum Alley, intent on bringing you back.

CW: Yandere Themes, Non-Sexual Nudity, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Bathing Together

Pairing: Yandere!Jing Yuan x GN!Reader

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It is a cold night on the Luofu when Jing Yuan strides through Aurum Alley.

By this time, all the shops, restaurants, and homes have gone dark. There is the faraway din of starskiff traffic, and the quiet buzz of cicadas in the moonlit neighborhood. As he walks through alleys lingering with the scent of day–the smell of tea leaves in particular lingers in his nose–there are no signs of you.

You are good at this, Jing Yuan thinks sadly. He wishes you weren’t.

“Y/N,” Jing Yuan calls quietly, though his voice carries. He does not need to be loud or aggressive to have a presence. “Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” 

There is no response.

He sighs. There is no anger in his voice, no vitriol or rage. Jing Yuan–as you have learned by now–is not prone to fits. In fact you’ve never seen him mad, or without at least a fleeting trace of a smile on his face; it's as if he was blessed by Aha THEMSELF. Because whenever he sees you he cannot help but feel light glimmering in his heart like starlight, making it bloom like pink morning glories. They have tender stems, delicate petals and grow in soil that is rocky and dry, but they are growing nonetheless, guided by your light.

He enters a different alley knowing you are hiding in the dumpster. Trivial really, but impressive nonetheless. Your determination is one of the things that attracts him to you most. It is a double edged sword. It comes in various shades and hues. He sees it in your eyes when he challenges you to a friendly game of Star Chess. Or when you’re cooking a new dish.

Or when you are shouting insults at him like if you curse him enough, you can make him disappear. In a way, it has the opposite effect. Every time you sob and plead he coos and reaches out for you, pulls you in tighter with comforting embraces and sweet, cloying words. 

For a few moments, he simply stands there. A part of him wishes that you would just come out. His footsteps are perfectly audible, and you are entirely perceptive enough to know that he has stopped in front of the alleyway. You know that he is there, waiting for you to surrender to his comfort and charm.

But you don’t. 

It drapes his heart in darkness, those flowers wilting when you don’t. He steps forward slowly, eyes fixed on the dumpster, his expression forlorn. “Dearest…please come out. I won’t hurt you.” It’s a promise, and it is one he cannot break. He hates seeing you in pain. He loves your smile. It is radiant in an infinite number of ways: the upturned quirk of your lips; the soft crinkling of your eyes; the way your irises seem to glow. You are a star of glass in his hands, and he is afraid he has shattered you.

But, he thinks, as he continues his slow conquest forward, nearing the dumpster, would that be so horrible? 

His mind flashes to the art of repairing broken pottery–kintsugi–where broken pieces are glued together with a lacquer mixed with gold powder; it is not meant to not hide where the breaks have occurred, but allow them to shine. He could bring you back together, multiply your luminescence by a thousand suns, and he would want you even more. The flowers in his heart would grow and bloom until his veins have become xylem and his tissues petals, every cell in him wanting your light. Craving it. Needing it.

When his hands–gentle and calloused from centuries of spars and fights–lift you from the dirty dumpster, you scream and wriggle in his tight embrace. His heart is flooded by rainstorms, flooding the flowers.

It has been raining for countless months. It feels like dying.

“Shh…it is alright my love,” he murmurs, his arms squeezing tighter around your torso; it’s not enough force to hurt you or bruise you, but enough to keep your squirming contained. “Let’s return home. I think this has been…enough excitement for one night.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

He runs you a bath. You smell like trash now, and that won’t do. He wants the best for you. The best food, the best clothes, the best life. Because when he sees your happiness, even if it is as ephemeral as a shooting star, it rejuvenates his soul. 

The gentle smell of jasmine fills the bathroom as he quietly works shampoo into your hair. By now, you have lost the battle. Is it a sacrifice, though? Or have you truly blundered a piece away on this grand chessboard? Jing Yuan has played you enough times to know your strategies and tactics, the most inner machinations of your mind. You lose to him every time, but always put up a good fight. He hopes that pattern holds true for this game you and him seem to be playing every waking moment.

Water cupped in his hands is brought to your head, washing the suds out of your luxurious hair. Gentle kisses are peppered on your bare shoulders and neck, before his hands reach to massage your shoulder blades. This is what Jing Yuan longs for: days spent in pure domestic bliss. The kind of sunlit silence that leaves him warm and sleepy, craving an afternoon nap next to his lover.

He hums a song. You lean a little more against him, exhausted from your little escapade. He smiles, careful not to chuckle, lest he scares you away like one of his sparrows. Later, perhaps in the morning Jing Yuan will have a conversation with you about this. But for now he is content to enjoy this honeyed moment, bathing in your incandescence, enjoying these brief moments of sunlight before the deluge begins again.

When your fingers start to wrinkle like prunes from the water and your eyes are beginning to droop, he knows it is bedtime. He wraps you up in a fluffy towel, letting you get ready for bed as he does the same; his eyes watchful but fond as he brushes his teeth and lets his hair out of its usual ponytail. Searching for the first signs of wind picking up or darkening skies.

The two of you cuddle in bed, though it’s more like Jing Yuan cuddles you, and you tolerate his embrace. His arms wrap around you, loose enough not to hurt but tight enough to anchor him around you. Drift too far away again, and Jing Yuan doesn’t know if he can recover. He needs you. 

He is tired, too. But he is tired in a different way. His fatigue is like that of a mountain carved in twain by the river of time. One day, both sides of that once-mighty peak will collapse. But you give him strength. You are his guiding light. His North Star. His sun. His Polaris.

His breathing begins to even out and he pulls you closer against him, sweet dreams of you and him begin to dance behind his eyelids. Hopefully, he thinks as he lets himself slip into slumber, one day you will forgive him for ripping you from the sky and placing you in his chest, in the space right next to his heart.

[darkshelbyfiction]

Drugged (Thomas Shelby Blurb)

Warning: Non-Consensual Smut, CNC

"Ssh it's okay sweetheart," Tommy whispered into your ear as he unbuttoned your blouse while you were laying on his large king sized bed. 

He yanked the blouse aside and pushed down your bra. "Wait, no. I don't want to do this," you managed to say in a trembling voice as you felt drowsy from the drink he had given you twenty minutes ago.

"I know you are scared, but it's going to be fine, I promise," he paused for a second and caressed your cheek, then dipped his head to kiss you softly on your lips.

His tongue explored your mouth bytes and thrusts, tasting the champagne and the sweet taste of your lips.

"No please don't. I'm a virgin," you tried to protest again, but the alcohol-laced drink was taking its toll, making you dizzy and weak. 

"Oh sweetheart. That's okay. It will only hurt for a second or two," he whispered soothingly as he lifted up your skirt to reveal your cotton panties.

"But I don't want to do this," you managed to say, fighting to keep your eyes open.

Tommy let out a deep sigh and kissed your neck softly, then whispered in your ear, "And I am sorry it had to be this way my sweet girl, but you rejected me for long enough," he told you as he gently slid your underwear to one side and ran a finger over your slit. 

You gasped and tried to wriggle away from his touch, but he was too strong for you, arms and legs pinned down, unable to even squirm away his face impassive and relaxed as he traced a finger along your tight dry hole.

He then parted your pussy lips with two of his fingers and groaned. "Oh god your opening is so small," Tommy said as he roughly pushed a finger inside you, causing you to yelp in pain.

"I am sorry Love," he whispered as he pushed his finger in and out of your sore vagina, trying to stretch and loosen you.

You squirmed and tried to fight back but you were no match for his strength.

Within moments he was pushing two fingers inside you, causing you to cry out loud.

"Oh god it hurts," you whimpered as tears rolled down your cheeks.

But Tommy didn't stop, he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, stretching you and loosening you.

"That's it Love, you're doing well, eh," he said with a hint of pride in his voice. "I know it hurts but you have to be brave for me just a little longer, alright?"

You nodded through your tears, and he rewarded you with a soft kiss on your forehead. "Good girl."

Tommy pulled his fingers out of you and reached over to his nightstand to retrieve some lubricant. 

You couldn't help but gaze at his cock as he prepared himself, lubing up his shaft. It was long and thick, and you couldn't imagine how it was going to fit inside you.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle," Tommy reassured you as he positioned himself between your legs.

He spread your pussy lips again with his fingers and guided the tip of his cock to your entrance.

You closed your eyes and braced yourself for the pain, praying that it would be over soon.

"Here we go Love, just breathe," Tommy said as he began to apply pressure.

You felt your body resisting, trying to keep him out, but it was no use.

Slowly, he pushed himself inside you, and you screamed out in pain.

"I'm sorry, Love, I am sorry it had to be this way," Tommy said once more, his voice strained as he tore through your hymen.

With a tremendous effort, he forced himself all the way inside you, stopping only once he bottom out. His cock was fully sheathed in your tight vagina, his balls resting against your ass.

"Oh god!" you cried out in pain, your whole body tensing up as you felt a stinging sensation that you never thought possible.

Tommy's body tightened in response to your cries. He looked down at your tear-stricken face, his expression flickered between pain, worry, and frustration.

"I'm sorry, Love," he whispered, kissing you on the forehead before Withdrawing himself slowly. "Just a bit longer, eh?"

Tommy murmured, biting his lower lip as he pushed back in and felt your tight vaginal muscles squeeze around his cock. "You feel so fucking good around me, do you know that?"

In response, you cried out in pain as Tommy began to thrust into you again, the harsh grunts and groans of pleasure falling from his lips growing louder with each brutal stroke. Your head knocked back into the pillow, tears streaming down your cheeks, as your body attempted to adjust to the trauma being inflicted upon it.

"Such a good girl, taking my cock so well," Tommy grunted as he continued to thrust in and out of your sore pussy. His lips found yours once more in a brutal kiss, muffling your whimpers.

" Shhh, I'm sorry, Love. I'm sorry," Tommy kept whispering as he continued to thrust, your desperate moans, cries, and sobs lost between kisses.

His cock was relentless and would not give up as it pistoned in and out of you. Your legs were trembling, the muscles spasming and trying their best to shut him out.

Meanwhile, Thomas Shelby's hand was tangled in your long, brown hair, using it as leverage as he powered into your tender, broken body.

He could feel the tense resistance of your virginity as it gave way to his forceful intrusion, and the pain that followed was a small price to pay for the satisfaction of conquering something so precious.

Thomas grunted and swore as he continued to thrust into you, feeling the tight grip of your body around his cock increasing with every stroke. He looked down and saw your face scrunched up in agony as you tried to adjust to his size, but his increasing pleasure drowned out any sympathy that may have arisen.

With every thrust, the tight friction of your unprepared body gripped his cock, begging for release.

"Goddamn, girl. You're so fucking tight," Thomas grunted, grabbing onto your hips for better leverage as he prepared himself to ejaculate deep inside you. "And I am going to cum so hard, Love."

"No, please don't," you managed to say in a shaky voice, tears still streaming down your cheeks, but your plea fell on deaf ears.

Thomas pressed himself in deeper, grinding his hips into you as he released his semen inside your already aching-from-pain pussy.

"Sssh, it's okay Love. It's almost over. Fuck," Thomas groaned into your ear as he convulsed, his cock twitching inside your abused pussy, filling you with his warm cum.

You couldn't help but wince as he came inside you, the painful sensation of his seed filling every inch of your tight pussy sending waves of discomfort throughout your entire body.

It was a sticky and wet feeling, and you could feel his cum seeping out of your pussy, trailing down the crack of your ass and onto the bedsheets beneath you.

Thomas, his body now still and spent, rolled off of you and collapsed onto the bed next to you.

His chest was still heaving, his breaths slowing down, and you could hear his satisfied grunts and groans as he lay there, savoring the afterglow of what he had just done to you.

You, on the other hand, were lying there crying, tears streaming down your face as you stared blankly up at the ceiling. You could feel his warm, wet seed mixed with the blood from your now-torn hymen slowly seeping out of your pussy, leaving you feeling violated, dirty, and devastated.

"Why?" you managed to whisper, your voice shaking as you struggled to come to terms with what had just happened.

Thomas didn't respond right away, but after a few seconds, he sat up and turned to face you.

"Why?" he echoed, a hint of surprise in his voice. "I thought it was clear, Love. You were mine for the taking."

[smuddee-papabear]

naga partner manhandles you with their tail 🙏

Ooh I love nagas. You didn't specify gender so I'm going to make both gender neutral

gender neutral reader X gender neutral naga

Tw: rough handling, biting kink

---

Most mornings were easy, your partner was too busy warming up on their heating pad to complain too hard about you going into work. The day would start with you wriggling your way from their sizable tail before taking a shower. You'd get your breakfast and coffee before leaving after giving them a peck on the cheek.

Some mornings, however, they wouldn't let you go without a fight. This was one of them.

"I have to go into work." You know they won't care about that the moment their tail wraps your leg.

Your naga lets out a huffy sigh, tail trailing up. "I could provide you with everything you need without that silly job getting in the way."

"That silly job pays for your food bill." You tease, turning to look at them. It was a mistake. The way the morning light shines on their gorgeous scales is far too distracting. "And your heat pad."

Your naga partner clearly doesn't like that assessment. Their expression darkens slightly. "I can feed us both and I don't need a fancy pad to warm myself."

"Oh no?" Your raised eyebrow is another mistake.

You yelp as a strong force shoves unexpectedly on your chest. Before you know it you're wrapped in a coil and pushed into the floor right in front of them.

Your breath is knocked out of you, and not just from the force of it. Naga!Partner's eyes gleam with satisfaction as they loom above you. You're sure they can feel the jump in your heart rate. A devilish smile crosses their face.

"If you think I can't, get out of my coils and go into work."

For a moment you stare open mouthed at them. Get out of their coils? How does this prove that they can provide for you?

Finally you start wriggling against the well muscled body, trying to ignore how intently your naga watches. It doesn't take long before you're out of breath.

Unwilling to admit defeat you start kicking your legs and manage to make minor headway. Before you can be proud of that you hear tutting from Naga!Partner and another section of tail wraps your legs before you're yanked upside-down and dangled in front of the naga's eyes.

Heat flushes your face. "Hey! I was doing what you told me to!" A chaste kiss to your lips has you too flustered to splutter out more of your indignance.

"Are you just giving up?" The smug tone causes your blush to spread further.

You try to curl up and grab their tail but are stopped when they use another coil to shove up into your back, arching it almost uncomfortably. Once again the breath is knocked from your lungs.

You barely have time to get it back before Naga!Partner shifts the end of their tail to force your legs open just enough to put you in a very vulnerable position. They tease your crotch with the tip.

Despite what you should be wanting, to get free, a sharp moan escapes your mouth.

Your naga's breath tickles the back of your neck and sends shivers through your body. "I can provide for you." Their hiss is somehow so loving and so angry at the same time.

You open your mouth but are embarrassed the only thing leaving it is a breathy whine. Something cold and flat slides into your hand. Only a moment goes by before you realize what. Your phone; a clear demand to call in sick.

It takes effort but you manage to speak without another whine. "I have-...I have to work."

"No," Naga!Partner's teeth skim the skin on your neck. You can feel their fangs trail along. Goosebumps form where they do. "I can provide for you."

"Need...need t wo-work...!" You manage to choke out. To be honest you don't really care about it anymore. Your heart is racing, body throbbing with every shift of your naga's muscles, mind foggy with need.

Their fangs push into your skin. It's not enough to break it but it is enough to cause a jolt through your shaking frame. "I will provide you with what you need today."

You call in sick, and just as promised your Naga!Partner provides all you need and more.