#this and monster mash

[pichiicake]

[xenon1962]

[stavrosskundromichalis]

The Friday dinosaur dance theme continues with a pair of Podokesaurus holyokensis doing the Monster Mash in the woods of Massachusetts during the Early Jurassic 🎃🦖👻

[hellsitegenetics]

if we haven't already, can we get the Monster Mash?

String identified: agtaatgtagttagatAtttaTtataagaaatatcagtaatattaaattCatatTtattaatTgacataTgtatcttttaTtataagaaaTtatcagtaaTtatttaTagTatatgTgtcaacaaTcacgagggtgcaacagTcagattattcagTCtctattaTtataagaaaTatatcagtaaTatatattatcaccgatttgtatAaatatTaaatttttaTtaatagaaattatcagtaattatttatgcacaattaAtatttatgtaaattgttttttcataTtaagaaaTcaacatcaaTcaatcataagagtgagta

Closest match: Geotrupes spiniger genome assembly, chromosome: 2 Common name: Earth-Boring Dung Beetle

(image source)

[ma1dita]

Hi Jo! So excited for your monster mash 🥰 Can I get one ticket for the graveyard mash starring Spencer Reid with a 🍫 and 🌭 please. Thank you!

freaks come out at night

[STARRING: SPENCER REID x reader ; “Really? Now? God, you have terrible timing.” “Please just play along.”] wc: 1.9k warnings: MDNI — afab!reader, semi-public van sex, choking with a belt, no protection p in v, totally against regulation, errrr i saw discourse that spencer doesn’t fuck but with the amount of smut on this hellsite… yeah right. anyways. that man is a freak. consent is sexy, enjoy. title from the whodini song

monster mash-terlist

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“Excuse me? Mr. Officer?”

Your heels clacking against the pavement catches Reid & Morgan’s attention. It’s dark on the street you’re on, the shadows of your face illuminated by the red and blue hues of light from the squad cars that surround the house where the unsub was apprehended. They've been on this case for a week, and everyone’s ready to shake hands and go home. And so are you, it seems; your confidence always gets you into difficult situations; however, asking cops for a ride home instead of staying with the creep at the club sounds like a better idea.

“Hi sweetheart, what’s wrong? This is a crime scene,” Morgan croons smoothly, leaning against the van as he looks you up and down, “you don’t look like you belong here.” It’s condescending almost, the suave tenor of his voice making you feel like you’re being talked down on.

All you want to do is go home, charge your phone, and go to bed. Spencer is too busy fidgeting with the buttons on his dress shirt as he rolls his sleeves back down to look more professional. But it’s hard to impress a pretty girl in a sparkly dress at three in the morning, especially when you don’t even glance his way.

“Yeah, there’s been this guy following me for a few blocks now. Can I get one of you to drive me home? It’s not too far,” you say dismissively, crossing your arms over your chest as the wind picks up. You shiver slightly, hands brushing the skirt of your dress down. Someone calls their attention from near the house, closing down the investigation and Morgan nods lightly with Spencer looking into the distance behind you, trying to find the person giving you trouble.

“Who’s giving you a problem? Want me to talk to him?”

He means it so earnestly, but nothing about Spencer Reid screams intimidating. Tweed blazer, clubmaster glasses, and Converse adorning his frame—-he looks like the kids you knew got bullied in middle school. It makes you giggle, “No offense, you’re not scary, Mr. Officer. Please just play along and let me ride it out.” Morgan hides a smile behind his shoulder and claps Reid on the back as if to say, all yours, pretty boy. You’re pointing at the black van, tapping it with your hand, “This one okay?” But you’ve already opened the door to the passenger seat and climbed in, dress riding up your thighs and giving them a view of your underwear. He swallows hard, looking at his friend who will surely never let him live this down, “Wanna come? I don’t like driving.”

Morgan rolls his eyes at how dumb the smartest man he knows can be when it comes to women, “Just get in the van and take her home, Reid. I’ll meet you back at the hotel.” The car keys are thrown (ie. fumbled) into Spencer’s hands as he sighs and walks around the front of the vehicle, mumbling, “Actually, I’m a doctor…”

“Your badge says you’re an agent,” you quip, watching him slide in and start the ignition. He turns the car lights on, looking your way as he pulls out onto the street, “I’m both.” 

Impressive.

Giving him the directions, you sit back and admire the profile of his face in the dark. He’s cute, you suppose—pushing his glasses up to avoid the glare of passing headlights, nose scrunched up in concentration as he tries to not let his mind wander while you tell him about your night.

“Yeah, and then after he was being nice to me, he groped me on the dancefloor. I mean, what a jerk! Can you imagine that, Doctor?”

“Spencer,” he mumbles, making you hum in acknowledgment. And no he cannot. He’s really trying not to. You’re expressive when you speak, hands flying in the air and touching everywhere from the dashboard, to his arm, and then his thigh. His hands clench around the steering wheel, wondering how you’re able to be so blunt with a complete stranger.

“You look like a Spencer.”

“Do I?”

Crossing your legs and leaning against the window to face him more, you look sinful in the passing shadows that blur behind your head. He blinks, reminding himself that he’s in control of the car, and redirects his focus on the road.

“Yeah. Too bad I’m not into nice guys,” you smirk, biting your lip, “Nice guys try to fuck me in public without even asking, apparently.” The car swerves the slightest bit, and neither of you says anything until he pulls into your apartment parking lot.

“Right here should be fine.”

He puts the car into park, lights flicking on as he unlocks the doors and the only thing you can see is his boner straining through the material of his slacks. The sheer sight of it and the hilarity of the situation make you bark out in laughter, “Really? Now? After I tell you about my shitshow of a night, you get hard after hearing that?” His cheeks redden in the dim light as he folds his hands in his lap, sputtering out a response, “I d-didn’t mean to… I’m sorry!”

“I’m not like him, I promise!” But you’re already getting out of the van and Spencer quickly files this into the section of his brain where he keeps suppressed memories because this is humiliating for him, actually— and then you’re opening the door to the backseat.

“Not like what, Spencer?”

His brows furrow as he watches you, frozen and calculating every possible way that tonight will go because it’s rare that Spencer Reid is surprised— “What?”

“Are you a nice guy, or are you a creep?”

And he pushes his glasses up, expression pressed into something you can’t read—maybe it’s something they’ve taught him in the FBI, you think, and he clears his throat, insisting, “I’m a nice guy. I’m one of the good guys.”

“You have terrible timing. Are you moving back here or not? I’m not fucking you in my apartment. I barely know you after all.”

So your confidence does put you into difficult situations. 

But you never thought it would get you bent over and fucked in the back seat of a cruiser with half your body sprawled over the center console. It’s a tight fit, your slick skin sliding against the leather and you don’t suppose a nice guy would do half the things Spencer is doing to you now, and his big hands are gripping the fat of your hips as he watches you bounce on his thick cock with bated breath.

The difference between him and other ‘nice guys’ you’ve encountered is that he’s verbal with his wants and makes sure that you’re enjoying yourself—and despite your eyes rolling to the back of your head and fervent moans, you’re still not sure he believes you.

“Ngh—fuck! Just like that…” you whine as he takes control, maneuvering you so that he can pull you up and down by his hold on your forearms. Spencer eagerly lifts his hips to meet yours, his length pistoning into your tight hole, the sound of skin and squelch echoing through the vehicle as he groans loudly, “This okay? Does this…feel good?”

“More! Mmm…harder, Spencer…I—”

“Not what I was asking, pretty,” he pants, thrusting into your soaked pussy with a jolt and stopping. Your cheek smacks against the gear shift and you cry, knees going weak at the sound of his voice, “I said, is this okay?”

“Yes! Stop asking!”

He slams into you again at the sound of your agreement, your belly hitting the console and squeezing around his cock as you lay there almost begging for him to do it again. But spit drips down the side of your mouth, along with the words you can’t string into a coherent sentence. The material of your dress is bunched around your torso, and his hands slither up your spine, feeling the way you breathe under his touch; you can’t see him from here but you know he’s smiling.

“I need to hear it, pretty girl,” he coos, tracing the letters of his name across your shoulder blades, and all you can do is laugh.

“Yes, your cock feels really good,” you hum, looking back at him and biting your lip, “In fact, you could go harder. You’ddo that for me, wouldn’t you, Mr. Nice Guy?”

“Doctor Reid…” 

He’s breathing heavily at your stare, noting the streaks of mascara down your cheeks and how your eyes seem to glint at him in the moonlight. So he yanks you up into the backseat with him, pressing you into the same position; ass up and face down and you shiver at the sound of his belt buckle clinking in the dark, “What are you doing?” you mumble, catchingyour breath while you can.

“M’gonna choke you if that’s okay.” 

It sounds so innocent coming out of his mouth and you’re grinning at the feeling of leather wrapping around your neck, fastened tight but not so much so that you’ll asphyxiate. You know he’ll be taking your breath away regardless, and he’s whispering into the shell of your ear, asking if you’re comfortable and pressing a soft kiss that feels incandescent against your skin.

One of Spencer’s hands spreads your cheeks open for his dick to make its way through your warm flesh, arching your back into his hold as the other hand tugs on the belt to pull you up. The choked sound that leaves your lungs is so filthy he has to try not to cum right then and there. 

“Please,” you whine, wiggling your hips as your hand slips down the glass pane, “Need you to fuck me.” Every inch that slides in has you moaning louder, and Spencer’s the one laughing now, “Should I still ask if you’re doing okay?”

“Oh…Just fuck me already Spencer!”

His jaw clenches as he starts fucking himself into your warmth, one hand on your shoulder and the other wrapped around his belt making you wheeze. Your ass shakes with the car, the force of his cock pounding into you with vigor, and Spencer moans, “F-fuck! You’re shaking…” His balls clap against the plump of your body as your throat feels the pressure of his efforts, and big hands pull you into a seated position so he can get a better look at your face. It’s puffed up with the lack of air and your pupils are unfocused, fucked stupid, and happy at the feeling of his rigid cock against the soft of your walls, mumbling incoherently as your eyes connect.

“Yes, yes, yes…So fucking deep…”

Spencer slides his hand around your torso, putting his fingers beneath sweaty fabric so he can touch your skin, thumb rubbing against your belly button and tongue licking up the side of your collarbone, still rocking into you as he loses it, finally letting go of the belt. You fall over with a shaking gasp and hear him groan, hot spurts of cum painting your motionless back. Noticing the car windows are foggy, you smile to yourself. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into? Reaching down to grab your underwear, you stop when you feel Spencer delicately wiping his cum off you with a handkerchief.

“Mmm. You really are a nice guy.”

He helps you readjust your clothes first before his, “I told you that.” It’s quiet in the car again, and you’re not sure what to say, but there’s no point in being shy now.

“You wanna see my apartment?” you muse, smiling sweetly at him, and he quirks his brow, “I thought you didn’t let strangers into your apartment.”

“I think we’re past that, don’t you?”

Spencer doesn't make it back to the hotel until right before check out the next morning.

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ma1dita's monster mash is closed for requests but ongoing for the rest of october!

[head---ache]

hehe more monsters‼️‼️

[simplygojo]

The Witch's Surrender

Authors Note: Here is my entry for a fun collab event, Monster Mash, hosted by @nanamiscocksleeve for a spooky szn! I encourage every writer to join in, I had lots of fun writing this ;) This was a great way for me to practice my smut writing...which is definitely a little rusty, lol.

Thanks for hosting this event Ray!

🎃 Happy start to the spooky szn 🎃

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f/Witch!reader

Word Count : 2.1k

Warnings : 18+ content, SMUT!, fingering, intercourse, dirty talk

The forest was silent, except for the crackle of cursed energy and dark magic swirling in the air. The moon was full, casting a silver hue over the earth beneath it, setting the tone for that crisp Halloween night.

Gojo stood casually at the edge of the clearing, his white hair tousled by the breeze, a smirk curling on his lips as he eyed you. Power pulsed between you, thick and intoxicating—but the heat in his gaze had nothing to do with the battle.

The two of you had fought before, and it was always a draw.

You enjoyed causing trouble for the jujutsu sorcerers; you liked watching them struggle to keep up. But Satoru Gojo was a different story.

Gojo had been sent on a solo mission to hunt down a powerful witch—you.

Your tight black dress clung tightly to your body, though it was now ripped in a few places due to the battle between you, exposing just the right amount of skin to the cool autumn air. You lifted your wand to point toward the white-haired man, throwing your pointed black hat to the side.

“They really sent me for you? I almost feel bad,” Gojo taunted, voice low, playful. His eyes, impossibly blue, gleamed with something far more dangerous than any amount of cursed energy—desire.

You squared your shoulders, the wand in your hand crackling with magic. “Don’t get cocky, Satoru. You’ll regret it.”

Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer, eyed you with his signature smirk, but you could see the calculating glint behind those cocky blue eyes. “I knew you were strong,” he drawled, casually adjusting his blindfold, “but I didn’t think you’d give me this much trouble.”

Magic exploded from your wand, ripping through the air with a loud bang. But Gojo dodged with infuriating ease, his Infinity shimmering in the air as he closed the distance between you in a blur of speed.

With a wave of his hand, a barrier of pure cursed energy shot toward you. You barely managed to deflect it, the force of the impact sending you skidding back, your boots digging into the earth.

In the blink of an eye, he was gone.

You barely had time to react before he appeared behind you, his hand raised to deliver a blow. But you were ready. With a flick of your wand, you summoned a shield of dark energy, the force of his attack clashing against it in a violent burst of light and shadow.

Gojo let out a low whistle as he jumped back, his grin widening. “Not bad, witch. But let’s see how you handle this.”

He moved faster than you could track, his Infinity shimmering around him as he launched a series of cursed techniques in your direction.

You dodged with precision, your own magic swirling in the air as you countered with a blast of raw energy.

The ground trembled beneath your feet, trees splintering around you as your powers collided. You finally had an opening; you readied your aim to finally bring this battle to an end, but he vanished before your eyes.

“Too slow,” he murmured, appearing behind you, his breath hot against your ear. “But god you’re pretty, I’ll give you that.”

Before you could retaliate, his one hand snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other held both your wrists tight above your head.

The fight was still fresh, but your pulse quickened for an entirely different reason now.

You could feel every inch of him pressed against you—the firm muscles of his chest, the heat radiating off him, the unmistakable bulge growing hard against your lower back.

“Gojo—” you breathed, your wand dropping from your hand as his grip on your wrists tightened.

“Getting distracted?” he teased, his voice a smooth, teasing purr. His hand slid down your body, tracing the curve of your hips. “God, you look even better up close.”

“Let’s call this a draw,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I think I found something a little more interesting to play with, hmm, pretty witch..”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, and before you knew it, he had you pinned against the nearest tree. His mouth was on your neck now, nipping and sucking, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

God, you wanted him—bad—and the worst part was that he knew it, he knew it because this is what happened…every. fucking. time.

You gasped loudly, struggling to keep control, but the way his fingers skimmed over your waist, under the hem of your soiled dress, was driving you insane.

You felt a wet heat build between your legs as you squeezed your thighs together—a weak attempt to suppress the inevitable.

His mouth claimed yours in a hungry kiss, all starvation and dominance. His tongue slid against yours, hot and demanding, while his hand roamed freely over your body, grabbing your tits roughly.

You moaned into his mouth, the taste of him intoxicating, head spinning as he pressed you harder against the rough bark of the tree, it piercing the exposed skin on your back.

“Satoru—” you gasped when he pulled away, his lips trailing down your throat, over your collarbone.

“Say it again,” he growled, his voice rough with lust. His hands found the waistband of your pants, tugging them down in one swift motion, leaving you bare beneath him. “Say my name.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers dipped between your thighs, finding you already wet for him. You did as he asked, “Fuck, Satoru.” You moaned in reaction to his teasing touch on your pulsing cunt.

He chuckled, low and dark, fingers teasing over your clit, circling the sensitive nub with slow, deliberate strokes.

“Already soaked?” he taunted, voice thick with arrogance. “And here I thought you wanted to fight.”

You whimpered as his fingers worked you with precision, each stroke sending sparks of pleasure racing through your gummy walls. Your knees buckled, but Gojo’s body pinned you firmly to the tree, his breath hot against your neck as he continued his torturous rhythm.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, head falling back against the tree as he works you over with skilled precision, each thrust of his fingers drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

"That's it, pretty witch," he coos, his lips ghosting over your skin. "I want to hear you beg for me."

You clench your jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction, but it’s a losing battle.

The pressure builds and builds, and when his thumb grazes your clit while his two long fingers continue to pulse in and out of you, you can’t stop the broken–put pornographic—moan that escapes your lips.

"Good girl," he purrs, his fingers quickening their pace, fucking you with a practiced, almost lazy confidence.

“You’re so good,” you whimpered, hips bucking into his hand, desperate for more.

“Good girl,” he murmured against your skin. “Now let’s see just how well you can take me.”

In one smooth motion, Gojo brought you away from the tree that had previously acted as your fucking-post, and turned you so your back was to him, and his large bulge was pressed up against your ass.

He reached one of his hands to roughly cup your tit, twirling your hardened nipple between his fingertips. His other hand left your dripping cunt, and he brought it up to your mouth, holding out his fingers for you.

“I want you to have a taste before I get to. I bet it's so sweet.” He growled, his voice laced with desire, his eyes watching your sweet lips, as you took his long fingers in, sucking them dry for him.

Once you finished sucking the life out of his fingers, he let out a satisfied sigh before roughly sticking them back into your warmth, moving them around, feeling every inch of your insides.

You let out a loud whimper as he did so, feeling his cock jump against your ass in response to your seductive noise.

He removed his fingers once again and inserted them into his own mouth, You were left panting—no—gasping for air as he enjoyed your sweet nectar.

“God…I was right, baby you’re sweet like candy.” He said in a low whisper before undoing his pants with one smooth hand motion, freeing his hard cock.

You barely had time to process it before he lifted your dress up over your hips, exposing your ass to the crips air.

He pressed the thick head against your entrance, teasingly slow, the heat of him making you dizzy.

“Beg for it,” he growled, his voice a dangerous whisper.

You didn’t want to give him that satisfaction quite yet, so you bit your tongue. But he sensed your hesitation and reached his hand up to your neck, his grip firm but not painful.

“You know,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear, “I’m not even close to being finished with you.” He placed a sloppy kiss right under your ear as he tilted your head back. “Now beg for it.”

His demanding voice sent you well over the edge, your body trembling with need. “Please, Satoru! I need you now. P-Please fuck me.”

That was all it took. With a low groan, he thrust into you, stretching you wide as he buried his thick mass deep into you.

The sensation was overwhelming—he was so big, filling you completely, the stretch almost too much, but the pleasure hit just as hard.

Your screams could probably be heard from miles away, but you couldn’t help it. Your eyes were wet with tears from the sheer pleasure of his dominating rhythm, and your mouth wouldn’t stop letting the world know his name.

“Fuuuck,” Gojo groaned, his head falling to your shoulder as he suddenly slowed his rhythm savouring the way your walls clenched around him. “So fucking tight.” He moaned as he pushed himself further into you than either of you knew was possible.

“Satoru—oh god—” you gasped, your voice breaking as he angled his hips just right, hitting that spot deep inside you that made your vision go white.

Your nails dug into his lower arms as he picked up the pace again, each thrust harder, deeper, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the quiet of the forest.

The friction sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, each movement bringing you closer to the edge, as he held your back up against his chest so he could watch how your tits bounced as he fucked you.

He smirked against your neck, one hand sliding down to rub your clit in time with his thrusts. “That’s it, pretty witch. Cum for me.”

Your body obeyed instantly, pleasure crashing over you like a wave as your orgasm hit.

And then you’re falling—tumbling over the edge as pleasure crashes through you in waves, your body shaking as he coaxes every last ounce of pleasure from you.

You yell out his name, a trail of moans follow closely behind as your walls clench around his long cock, his own eyes rolling into the back of his head with pleasure.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Gojo groaned, his hips stuttering as he chased his own release. With a few more rough thrusts, he buried himself deep inside you, spilling hot and thick as he came with a low growl.

For a moment, the forest was silent again, the only sound your ragged breathing as Gojo slumped against you, still buried deep inside.

He pressed a soft, almost tender kiss to your temple, his usual cocky grin returning.

“Don’t you just hate when a battle ends in a draw..” He teased, his fingers wiping away some of your orgasm-caused tears with a smug look on his face.

“You’re fun,” he whispered, pulling out slowly, a trail of his cum dripping down your thighs. “We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

You couldn’t speak, but you readjusted your dress and picked up your wand from the muddy forest floor, still reeling from the intensity of what just happened.

But as he pulled away, adjusting his clothes with a satisfied smirk, you knew one thing for sure—this wouldn’t be the last time Gojo Satoru got the best of you.

“Oh, and Happy Halloween, pretty witch.”

[nefarrilou]

Medusa x Pegasus 🏛️ for @salemssimblr monster mash challenge!

✘ No heads will roll ♫

Genetics Hair + Bangs + Strand + Overlay | Skintone | Eyes | Teeth | Scales Claws Clothes Dress Accessories Bracelets 1 + 2 | Snake | Tears

✦ Pegasus ⊱ Wings | Mane | Skin

C R E A T O R S

Genetics @feralpoodles @daylifesims @simbience @tricoufamily

@lamatisse @cerberus-cc @lady-moriel @remussirion

Clothes @belaloallure3

Accessories @specialany @valentinakarlova @pralinesims

Pegasus @kalino-thesims @emelie-png @minervamagicka

[halloween-sweets]

[jasminumdew]

Sylus (werewolf)

Notes: I loveee primal play, it was so fun writing this. I actually finished this about 10 days ago, but a big typhoon went through my place and cut out all power, water, and Internet for a few days, I decided to wait until there was Wi-Fi connection, didn’t think it would be this long. But everything’s fine now, hope you guys enjoy this ^^

Warnings: MDNI, he says “kitten” 3-4 times, pure smut, primal play, chasing through the wood, squirting x2, oral (fem received), piv, knotting, overstimulated

Wc: 1,7k

Event host: @nanamiscocksleeve

Summary: Being in a relationship with a werewolf comes with indulging in his instinct to hunt, and you’re more than happy to being his prey. With this being your first time in this scene, you and Sylus have planned out everything beforehand, he insisted on making sure you’re comfortable and won’t get hurt. It’s simple. You run and he chases after, then when he catches you, you need to act as if you don’t know him, and just unfortunately bump into a werewolf and fight back when that monster tries to mate with you. Sounds hot and easy enough. Ready? Run!

You’re out of breath. Barely a few minutes in this cat and mouse game and you’re already exhausted. You curse under your breath how you should’ve exercised more often for this. But how common it is to be chased in the wood by a werewolf? Your legs were screaming for a break for 10 minutes now. Or was it more? You don’t have any concept of time now, being alone in the dark cold wood, surrounded by darkness and relying solely on the faint light from the moon.

You can hear hardly hear anything besides the sounds of your heavy breath, your legs thumping on the dry grass, and the occasional howl of the beast chasing after you. You don’t know if he is still watching you in the shadow or that you’ve successfully cut your track. But the chances are thin, werewolf are famous for their extraordinary hearing and smelling ability. There’s no way you’ll be able to escape this wood without his canine mark deep into your flesh. Running away from him seems like a really bad idea now that you’re realizing it. Making yourself a small and easy prey to the mighty predator, who gets off on the high adrenaline of this little chasing game. It’s not like you can go back and make a different choice. So you run fast, completely oblivious to where you’re heading to, playing the dangerous game with no way out.

No matter how carefully you planned things out, it still didn’t prepare you for how intense it actually is, deep in the wood with no flashlight in hand, eyes hardly adjusted when everywhere looks just the same. Sylus knows this place in the back of his hand, you know he won’t let anything bad happen and you can trust him with your life, but your heart still beating like a drum, loud and clear in your ears.

Your whole body was burning, demanding for a rest. You hide yourself low, under the thick bush near an old white oak tree. You press your hands on the chest, forcing yourself to keep your breathing and heartbeat to quiet down. You heard an echo caw of a crow nearby, other than those, it’s all too quiet. Strangely so. You peak your head to watch out for any sign that he’s approach closer. Then you hear it, the sounds of a huge beast searching for its sweet prey, too big to hide his presence. You know for a fact that you can only hear him if he chooses to let you, you’re completely in his control. He doesn’t rush, just slowly goes through the surrounding, playing a little mind game with his prey, making her always on guard and overstimulated by fear.

The sudden grunting from behind your neck sends chill down your spine. Your body’s complete frozen, as if you think if you don’t move and keep your breathing even, you’ll disappear from his vision. But you understand it’s the only chance you get before being his meal tonight. Your legs quickly move but to no avail, you couldn’t even run away a few steps before being pushed to the ground on your back, making you yelp from pain. Under the moonlight, a massive wolf lays itself on top of you, heavy weight knocks the remaining air out of your lungs.

His red eyes staring deep into yours, it reminds you of the fresh color of blood, and you, being the center of those, will soon be swallowed whole by it. What looks like a huge wolf shifts into a more human-like one, returning to a hairless body, still bigger than any man you’ve encountered, with his hair the same shade as the pale moon that’s now shining down on his silhouette. Your cheeks and ears turn bright red, observing his naked body, prominent abs and full muscles. Focus focus focus. You chant in your head like casting some kind of spell. You try your best to fight back, pushing his jaw away from your face, biting his hand, kicking him, only to get laugh at. “Come on, struggle a little more for me, kitten”. His deep voice sends a wave of arousal deep to your core, scratches an itch deep down inside you that you tried to hide. “Shut up” you snap, your legs pull to your chest, kicking his belly with your whole strength. His hands grab your ankles with ease, letting your thighs rest on his broad shoulders. Then before you have the time to react, he pushes up your top to your wrists, tying your poor shirt like a bow to keep you from squirming. “There, all nice and pretty. Wrapped like a present for me huh?”, he smirks, kissing your inner thighs through your leggings.

“Let me go you disgusting pervert!”

He doesn’t faze by your words, but instead, his hands find their way to your waistband, pulling it down to your ankles. He hums in amusement with a clear view of your core soaking wet, your pretty clit clenching as if begging for some friction. “Are you sure I’m the pervert here, sweetheart?” he teases, before kissing his way down from your belly, to your inner thighs, then he dives right in, devouring you without mercy. He’s such a messy eater, slurping and sucking on your bundle of nerves so eagerly like he’s gone for days without anything in his stomach. You cry out the sweetest moans, can’t move away from his tongue abusing your sensitive bud, his hands have your thighs in a dead grip, refusing to let go even when you’re twitching and sniffling. You cum hard in his mouth, squirting like a small fountain and he slurps it all in with a satisfying hum.

You let out a shaky breath when his mouth finally left your pussy, drenching in the mixture of your shared fluids. But the relief doesn’t stay for long when you notice his rock-hard cock in his hand, the tip has an angry red shade and his knot swells uncomfortably, waiting to be buried deep inside your wall. He pushes through your first ring with a throaty grunt. You’re always tighter after your first orgasm. Sucking on your neck right on top of his mating bite mark, his cock touches all sweet spots of yours, making you squeeze down on him unconsciously. His red eyes never leave yours, capturing your every expression, every gasp and moan, how your soul seems to be sucked out of your body every time his tip brushes through her cervix.

Your wetness makes it all too easy for his knot to slip in than usual, but he still feeds his knot to you slowly to let you adjust to his size. Your cunt’s so overstimulated with his knot keeps pushing in and out, brushing through your small beans. “Please...” you cry out, wishing your hands were untied so you can reach down and rub it until you reach your peak.

“Hmm? What’s that?” he asks, not even bothering to mask the smugness in his voice.

“Touch me” you plead, gasping for air when he grinds on it more. He turns his head, looking clueless, “But I am touching you, darling? Be more specific and I might give it to you”

Ughh you want to slap his face so badly. He knows what you want and chooses to be mean about it when you crave him so much. His touch feels so good, the only thing you need now is to cum on his thick, veiny cock and squeezing his knot until he burst inside you.

“I need you to rub my clit, I want to cum so bad, please please please I beg you” you whine, clenching down on him oh so sweetly to make him pleased. “Good girl” he chuckles, massaging your sweet spot with his thumb, you whine in pleasure, arching your back. Taking all of his knot, he bites down on your neck, grinding into your G-spot so hard you can see stars. His grinding turns sloppy, he kisses you when you cum together, and that to you was the most heavenly feeling ever.

When you can catch your breath, his thumb moves again, drawing tight circles around your poor clit. “No, please, I can’t anymore” you cry out. He coos, “Yes you can, give me one more, kitten”. His tongue swirls around your nipple before sucking it in, playing with the other with his free hand. A tight knot unravels too fast, you didn’t get to warn him before squirting again, making a mess on his abdomen and thighs. You can feel him twitching inside, the warm fluid paints your wall white again.

He rolls over, careful not to hurt you with his knot, and lets you lie on top of him. He frees your hands from your now creasy shirt and strokes your cheek. “How was it?”. You rest your head on his shoulder, answer sleepily. “I really enjoyed it. Though my legs probably won’t be able to move tomorrow after all those running…and banging” you giggle, breathing in your mate’s scent. Then, suddenly remember something, your head jerks up. “Did you use Mephisto to cheat, Sy? I heard a crow with a very annoying voice, guess you’re not that good at hunting”.

He pinches your cheek, “Are you underestimating my ability? I don’t need assistance when your sweet scent leads me straight to your hiding place”. You yelp, holding your sore cheek and glaring at him. “That’s not fair. I’ll rub all kinds of smells on me next time so you’ll be distracted and I can win for once”. His answer makes your body tingle. “That won’t work because I can recognize my mate’s scent no matter what. Besides, you love it when I win, don’t you kitten?”

You huff in annoyance, hiding your grin in his chest. It won’t be long until his cock starts twitching again, better rest while you can, you have a long long night ahead.

[mostly-funnytwittertweets]

[pistachi0art]

Werewolf Gordon...

you know, I wasn’t too surprised to see this was the first request 🐾

[burntheedges]

shadows

Din Djarin x f!reader | 5.4k | ao3 | 18+

summary: you were pretty sure the ship was haunted.

a/n: well, I finally finished it! this is my very late entry for the Monster (S)mash from @quinnnfabrgay-writes and @hauntedhowlett! my prompt: tentacle monster!Din. 😏 thank you to @katareyoudrilling for beta-ing! 🧡

tags/warnings: spooky vibes, flirting, feelings and smut, canon-typical violence (with a bounty), this is a tentacle monster fic and there is smut, so keep that in mind, it's exactly what you think it is, kissing, grinding, fingering, but not with fingers, p-in-v sex, creampie, cuddling, manhandling, except not with hands, if you get my drift, pet names (cyar'ika, mesh'la, good girl), no mention of details for reader other than wearing clothes and being a mechanic

...

At first you thought the Razor Crest might be haunted.

It was the only thing that made any sense. 

Nothing seemed to stay where you put it. Your caf would move half a foot to the right when your back was turned. You’d put your spanner down and lose it, only to look for it and find it sitting atop a crate well out of reach. One morning you woke up and found all of your little trinkets next to your sleeping pad had been shuffled around. You’d squinted at them, suspicious, but none of them had moved again.

You started keeping a sharper eye on things, but you never caught even a glimpse of any movement.

Well. You never saw any of your stuff move, that is.

The first few times you saw… something, you brushed it off as your imagination. You’d probably just been in space too long, right? Trapped on the ship with nothing to look at. Seeing things in the shadows. 

But you would swear to it – something would move just out of the corner of your eye, but when you turned, nothing was there.

Nothing was ever there. Even though the movements sometimes seemed to happen just before you’d find that your stuff had moved around with no warning.

You were starting to question your sanity. You even asked Din if he ever had trouble finding anything on the ship, but he only shook his head. Ok, just a me-problem, then. 

It perplexed you and frustrated you. You found yourself staring at your belongings, tense, as if daring them to move. You were glaring at your ultrasound cleaner when you realized you had no idea how long you’d been doing it and maybe you needed to get out for a bit.

“Din?” you called, sticking your head out of the ‘fresher and looking around for him. 

He grunted from off to your left, but you couldn’t see him. 

“Can we stop somewhere, get some supplies? Before your next job.”

He grunted again, but you could tell he was agreeing that time. You smiled as you ducked back inside the ‘fresher, but the expression was short lived. 

Your ultrasound cleaner had moved three inches to the right. You would swear it. 

…

Din stopped on Hetzal Prime and you took advantage of the large market to stock up on everything you could think you might need, from bacta to fruit to the various bits and bobs you used to keep the Crest in good shape. Din accompanied you for a while before disappearing off into the market on his own.

The fresh air helped. You smiled as you took your time at each stall. When a light breeze rustled your clothing you almost laughed at yourself, thinking about how you’d become certain that the Crest was haunted. Outside on the warm streets of Hetzal Prime, your worries seemed distant.

As you approached the Crest, you smiled again as you walked up the ramp, excited to show Din what you’d found for him at the stall with leather goods. You could tell you were the first one back, though.

When you stepped inside, you stopped and looked around suspiciously. 

Nothing had moved. Everything was exactly where you’d left it. 

You narrowed your eyes as you looked around the ship. “Alright, you,” you said to the Crest, trailing your fingers along one of the walls of the cargo area. “What are you up to?”

The Crest didn’t answer, of course, but you found yourself suddenly on edge, anyway.

“Talking to the ship?” Din’s teasing tone announced his arrival and you turned around quickly, surprised to find him standing at the top of the ramp. 

“How do you always do that?” you said, a bit breathless.

He tilted his head at you. “Do what?”

You shook your head and laughed. “Sneak up on me! Kark, you’re so quiet.” You couldn’t see his face, of course, but something about the angle of his hip and shoulders made you certain he smirked in response. 

He pointed at himself. “Bounty hunter.”

You rolled your eyes and dug around in your bag for his gift. “Yeah, yeah. Ok, Mr. Sneaky Bounty Hunter, I got you something.”

Din took a step towards you. “You didn’t have to–”

“I know, Din,” you cut him off, “but look!” You held out the leather strapping you’d found at the market. “This would be perfect to fix your holster, right?”

He reached out to take the strapping with his left hand while his right dropped down to touch the holster in question, the one with the straps he’d had to reinforce with so much stitching it was more thread than leather, these days. It still looked like it might come apart if you so much as breathed wrong in its direction. 

But Din was still quiet, and you were starting to worry. 

“Din?” He looked up at you, finally and your eyes darted across his visor. “Is it–”

He cut you off by reaching out to grasp your upper arm with his right hand. “It’s perfect,” he murmured, squeezing your arm gently. “Thank you.”

You smiled at him. “Of course. I saw it and thought of your sad holster, I had to get it.” He snorted and squeezed your arm again before stepping around you and moving into the ship. As he did so his hand skimmed down your arm and lightly brushed over yours. You turned to follow him, but your attention was suddenly caught and you stopped. Something had just moved, over in the dark corner of the cargo area – you would swear to it.

“Did you…” you trailed off as Din turned back to look at you. “Did you see something move?”

He shook his head. “Just you.”

You rolled your eyes and brushed past him into the ship.

…

Later that night you laid out the facts in your mind as you stared at the ceiling of the cargo bay on your sleeping pad.

One: sometimes things in the Crest moved without you seeing them move.

Two: sometimes you thought – no, you knew – things would move just out of the corner of your eye, but you could never catch whatever it was in the act.

Three: nothing moved while you were off the ship.

What if the Crest isn’t haunted? you wondered as you started to drift off to sleep. What if it’s me?

…

When you woke the next morning, you were already far away from Hetzal Prime in hyperspace and on your way to Din’s next job. You realized you wouldn’t be able to test your theory that it was you that might be haunted while you were both stuck on the ship. (Not that you had any idea why – or by what – you might be haunted in the first place.)

By the time you reached Druckenwell, whatever was haunting the Crest – or you – was at it again. It seemed to follow you around the ship, just out of the corner of your eye, messing with you. In fact, you could have sworn that last night, just as you were falling asleep, you’d felt… something… brush lightly down your arm. You shivered, remembering. 

When Din came down the ladder, ready for his hunt, you were staring at the pad that had just completely flipped upside down on its own while your back was turned, lying innocently atop one of the crates. He stopped next to you and looked down.

“What are you doing?” he murmured, tilting his head to look at your face. 

You blinked. Oh, nothing, just staring at this inanimate object that I swear just moved on its own and losing my mind. “Nothing.” You turned towards him and looked him over. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

Din looked down and reached out to flip your pad right-side up. “No more than a few days. They track everybody's movements here, shouldn’t be too hard to find them.”

You nodded. “Alright. I’ll probably stay here.”

He reached out to grasp your forearm and you blinked again, surprised. “Please,” he murmured, turning towards you fully. “Stay on the ship. Alright? We’re not in the best part of town.”

You nodded. “I will, Din.” His shoulders lost some of their tension and you couldn’t help but smile at him. “I’ll be right here.”

Just a few moments later he was gone and you made sure to engage the ground defenses after the ramp came back up. You turned and leaned against it, surveying the cargo hold slowly. “Alright,” you said to the empty ship. “Let’s figure this out, once and for all.”

…

Nothing happened.

You moved through the ship on full alert, darting your eyes from corner to corner, shadow to shadow, looking for whatever had been haunting you for weeks now. You felt silly for carrying your spanner like a weapon as you did, but you couldn’t bring yourself to put it down, either.

But nothing moved.

It was almost too quiet, too still. Too normal. You realized, now that you were on the ship without it, that you’d gotten used to more than just your stuff moving around. Suddenly the shadows themselves seemed less dark, less deep. Too still. It took the change for you to notice but until now the shadows had seemed, well. Alive. You didn’t realize how often something aboard the ship made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up until whatever it was stopped doing it.

About 36 hours after Din left on his hunt you were lying on the floor of the cargo hold, exhausted from being so on edge, so intensely aware of your surroundings for so long. You stared at the ceiling, wondering if maybe you’d imagined all of it after all. It was possible, you supposed, that everything had moved because of… turbulence. Maybe space wind? Or something. 

Right? You glared into a shadowy corner, but nothing moved. It can’t all be in my head. You needed to sleep. Maybe this will all make more sense tomorrow. 

…

The next day, Din came back.

You were sitting in his seat, up in the cockpit, when your comm beeped. 

“It’s me,” he said, voice low. “I’m coming in. Wait.”

You leapt up, making your way over towards the ladder. When Din told you to wait, it meant he wanted you out of sight while he got the bounty into carbonite. You waited at the top of the ladder until you heard the hiss of the freezer.

“How’d it go?” you called as you slid down the ladder. You turned to look for Din and found him looking at you. You scanned him quickly but he didn’t look any worse for wear.

“Fine,” he nodded. “No trouble.”

You smiled at him. “Good. Where to next?” 

He brushed past you, moving towards the cockpit, and that’s when you saw it. Out of the corner of your eye, just there… you swore something moved in the shadows by the carbonite freezer. Something dark, darker than the shadows themselves. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end. 

But when you turned to look, nothing was there.

You shook your head, frowning, and turned to watch as Din disappeared at the top of the ladder. 

What if it wasn’t you that was haunted, or the Crest?

What if it was Din?

…

You spent the hours it took to get to your next stop, to the next bounty, studying Din. So much so that you were pretty sure he noticed, but he didn’t say anything.

It reminded you of the beginning of your partnership, when you’d first joined him on the Crest. You’d flirted with him, of course, almost from the moment you met. How could you resist? At first you’d even thought he was flirting back.

“Look,” he’d murmured, and you’d wondered if you were finally getting somewhere with this man you couldn't get out of your head. But he’d surprised you. “You don’t want this with me.”

You’d scoffed, disbelieving. “I know what I want, Mando.”

He’d sighed, and you could still remember how tired he’d sounded. How weary. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for. If you want to stay, this doesn’t happen.”

He’d sounded so certain, so firm. You didn’t know him well enough at the time to question it, and now? Now, when you were pretty sure you were actually in love with him?

Now all you wanted was to stay on the ship, and not get kicked off for flirting, of all things. Well, you also wanted to solve the mystery of whatever was haunting the ship. Or Din. 

And now you were staring at him, and even though you worried he might be getting the wrong idea, you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

…

On Socorro, Din asked you to stay on the ship again, and you agreed easily. You had some maintenance to do, after all, and you needed to see if your theory was right.

You realized almost immediately that it had to be.

Din stepped off the Crest, and the shadows… lessened. The darkness in the corners of the ship seemed lighter. Nothing moved, nothing shifted, nothing squirmed in the dark. 

It was Din, after all. 

You spent the next two days trying to figure out what to do about it.

…

You were standing in the cargo area when he came back. 

“It’s me,” he gasped over the comm, and you felt your heart start to race at the tension in his voice, at the way he was breathing so heavily. “Wait.”

You turned, ready to hide, but the cargo bay started opening before you could. You darted towards the ladder, trying to make yourself scarce, but it was too late.

“What’s this, Mando?” said a deep, snarling voice. You shuddered. “Got someone waiting at home, do you?”

You looked and saw Mando dragging a large Trandoshan up the ramp. The bounty snarled at you when you made eye contact. “She’s a pretty one, Mando.” Your back hit the ladder and you froze. 

Din growled. “Shut it,” he said, shoving the Trandoshan forward. But it seemed that’s what the other had been hoping for, because he used the momentum to fall forward, breaking Din’s hold on him. He flipped into a standing position and snarled again. 

The next few moments played out in flashes in your mind.

Din, tensing, readying himself to leap towards the bounty.

The Trandoshan, bending his knees, turning away from Din and towards you.

You, scrambling backwards as the Trandoshan launched himself through the air in your direction.

The sudden roar that ripped from Din startled you and tore your eyes from the bounty to him. 

And that’s when you saw it. Saw them. 

Faster than your eyes could register, shadows erupted around him. No, you realized, they were coming from Din. Smoky black tendrils, slithering from under his armor, snaking down his limbs and outward in every direction, so fast it was like a burst of light. In less time than it took you to fully register what was happening they covered the floor and the walls and sped inexorably towards the Trandoshan. 

He never reached you.

The shadows pulled at him, grasping, wrapping him up in a stranglehold. Your jaw dropped as the bounty’s forward motion was arrested, mid air, and you gasped as he was flung into the carbonite freezer. 

Your entire body was frozen as you watched, as you allowed your eyes to trail along the tendrils of shadows back to Din. Din, who was standing there, breathing hard, holding the bounty in place somehow, but staring directly at you.

“Din?” you whispered, but he looked away and pushed himself forward to freeze the bounty. 

You heard the hiss of the freezer and watched as the shadows started to snake backwards the way they’d come, along the walls and the floor, slithering back under his armor. You watched, transfixed, as he seemed to pull all of the shadows that had just covered the cargo area into himself. 

You stepped closer, mesmerized, and as one tendril passed you you felt it caress the back of your arm before it whipped away. 

You gasped. You knew that feeling. You’d felt it before. 

Din turned around to look at you again, and you noticed he started to reach for you but balled his hands into fists, instead. He looked away. You could see his tension in every line of his body. The last few tendrils were snaking back under his armor when you stepped forward and wrapped your hands around his.

“Din,” you said, voice full of wonder. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

He kept his head turned away as he shook it. 

“Din,” you said, insistent. “Look at me.”

He did, slowly. 

“Is this…” you took a deep breath. “Is this why—“

He nodded once, sharp. You stepped closer. 

“Din,” you murmured, reaching up to cup the side of his helmet in your hand. “I’m not afraid of you.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. “You should be. Cyar’ika—“

“Listen to me,” you said, interrupting him. “I’m not. So this is why? Because you’ve been hiding this from me?”

Din gave in, finally, and reached forward to grasp your hips in his large hands. You could feel them shaking. He nodded again. 

“Don’t,” you whispered. “Don’t hide from me.” You tried to meet his eyes through the visor and hoped, like you always did, that you were successful.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” Din’s voice was gravely and rough. 

“I’m asking for you, Din.” You slid your hands up his arms and behind his neck. “Just you.”

He shuddered and let his helmet gently bump against your forehead. “I want to. But–”

You shook your head. “Trust me, Din.” You stepped forward until you were pressed against him completely. “Don’t hide from me.”

For a moment he didn’t respond, and you started to worry that he would pull away from you after all. 

But then he groaned and surged forward, wrapping his arms around you before spinning you and pinning you to the wall of the Crest.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he said, voice deep and dark. You shivered. His hands found your hips again and squeezed. “Wanted you, cyar’ika.”

“Din–” you cut yourself off on a gasp when you felt it. Felt him.

First, the gentlest touch to your wrists. They snaked up your arm and you closed your eyes, lost to the feeling of what you now knew was Din touching you in a way you’d never been touched before.

“Hey,” he said, voice soft. “Look at me. Are you–”

You opened your eyes, and you knew what Din must have seen in them when he growled. 

“Din,” you breathed, feeling hot all over. “More.”

He loomed forward, pinning you harder against the wall of the ship. You felt light touches start to brush against your legs and then your neck. You sighed.

Din’s hand came up to cup your cheek and he tilted your face towards the light. You felt him watching you as you panted. “You like this?” he asked. He sounded stunned.

You nodded. He tightened the grip of the tendril around the back of your neck and you gasped. 

“You like this,” he growled, and then the ship was suddenly plunged into darkness when the lights went out. 

You opened your mouth to protest, but stopped when you heard the unmistakable hiss of his helmet seal releasing. 

“Din?” You breathed, and when he spoke you actually moaned at the sound of his unmodulated voice. 

“I’ll make it so good for you, cyar’ika.” Without warning you felt his lips touch your throat and you gasped. “Let me touch you.”

“Please.”

His hands didn’t move but you suddenly felt him everywhere. Soft touches trailed up your thighs and down to your ankles, wrapped around your back and caressed your neck. You felt one trace your cheekbone and sighed. 

“So soft,” he murmured, face buried in your neck. You felt what had to be a mustache tickle you and smiled. “Everywhere. Just like I knew you would be.”

“Can you—“ you gasped when you felt a tendril snake under your shirt and up your spine. “Can you feel? With them?”

Din nodded into your neck. “Not as much as— it’s not the same. Just… textures. And temperature.”

You marveled at that for a moment. “Din,” you said, and he lifted his head. You couldn’t see him in the dark but you imagined he was looking at you. “I want to feel you everywhere.”

He surged forward and captured your mouth in a searing kiss that took your breath away. 

You’d never been kissed like this. You felt his lips and his hands but then you felt them everywhere else, too. Head spinning, you sank into the feeling of being so firmly held in so many new ways. 

Din broke away and started pressing soft kisses along your jaw that made you sigh. You realized your hands were clutching his cape and let it go, sliding your hands upwards. 

“Your armor,” you murmured. But you stilled when your hands didn’t find anything but flightsuit. “Did you–”

“Yes,” he said, and you could hear his smile. “Faster with a little help.”

You smiled, too. You hadn’t even noticed him taking it off. Your hands continued their slide upwards until you reached his neck. “Can I…”

“You can touch me wherever you want,” Din said, voice low. “I want you to.”

Permission granted, you slid your hands into his hair, marveling at the feeling of touching something you’d never seen. 

“I want you to touch me, too, Din,” you said, and smiled when running your fingers through his hair made him shiver. You felt more tendrils start to snake under your shirt and obligingly lifted your arms. Soon, so quickly it took your breath away, you were standing in the dark in nothing but your underwear with a tall, strong, naked Mandalorian backing you into the wall of the ship.

Din kissed you again, and your mind floated away as he touched you. His hands were on your hips but soft touches, soft but firm, held you everywhere. They snaked across your back, tangled around your legs, twisted between your fingers until you didn’t know where you stopped and he began.

A sudden firm touch broke through the overwhelming onslaught of Din as one lone tendril snaked around your torso and teased at your underwear. You broke away from the kiss and gasped. 

“I’ll make you feel so good, cyar’ika,” he murmured, pressing kisses along your jaw.

“Please,” you breathed, and he smiled against your cheek. Your head was spinning at the knowledge that he was touching you there, slipping closer, while his hands hadn't moved. “Din–” It started with a gentle touch over your underwear, nothing like anything you’d ever felt before. It teased at you, stroking so lightly it made you start to tremble. 

You felt your heart race even faster as you tried to split your attention between all the ways he was touching you. His hands held you firmly by your hip and neck while the tendril slipped inside the band of your underwear and downwards, making you gasp. You threw your head backwards as it started to tease at your slit and only the firm grip of Din’s hand on the back of your neck kept you from hitting it against the wall of the ship. 

The tendril slipped inwards and you whined.

Din began to worry a mark into your shoulder as a soft, unfamiliar touch began to circle your clit. Just as you began to catch your breath, a second one slipped inside of your underwear and began to tease around your entrance.

“Din,” you breathed, and he smiled against your neck. “Please.”

“Mmm,” he replied, and you could hear the amusement in it. “Please what, cyar’ika?” He slid his hand from your hip to ass and gripped it firmly, tugging your hips forward to meet his own. 

“In–” your breath hitched as the tendril that had not let up on your clit, not even for a second, pressed down a bit more firmly. “Inside.” 

Din nipped at your neck as he began to push your underwear down. “My hands are a little busy.” He squeezed the back of your neck and let your underwear fall around your feet.

Your cheeks and neck and chest began to burn with the knowledge of what you were about to say. “Not with your fingers.” Your voice was so tentative, so breathy, it was a wonder it came out at all. 

Din stilled, just for a moment, and then surged forward to claim your mouth in a fierce kiss. When he spoke, his voice was almost a growl. “Good girl.” 

You felt some of the tendrils that had been lightly teasing your thighs suddenly surge upwards and you gasped. Gently but firmly they parted your folds and held you open as a few more tendrils joined the one teasing at your entrance. You shivered.

“Right here?” Din murmured into your ear. “Is this what you want?” One of the tendrils pushed inside, just a bit, and you clutched at his shoulders. He used his free hand to lift your leg around his waist. “Tell me.”

You nodded. “Din, yes, please. Inside.” 

He started with one. It pushed its way inside you slowly and sent your mind spinning. It moved so differently than anything you’d ever felt before, so agile, so soft. A second one quickly followed and they began twisting together inside of you in a way that took your breath away.

It took you a moment to realize Din was still murmuring in your ear. “You feel so good, mesh’la. So warm. So soft.” He pressed soft kisses behind your ear as a third tendril joined the others and you moaned at the stretch. “So good for me.”

You lost track of time as he toyed with your clit and filled you in a way you’d never been filled before. You had no idea how much of him was inside of you, only that it felt perfect and delicious, particularly when he began to massage the spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“Din,” you said, thrusting your hips forward. You could feel it building inside of you. There wasn’t a single inch of your skin he hadn’t touched yet and it was filling you in a way you never knew you needed. 

You whined as you felt it nearing and Din nipped at your ear in response. “Let go for me, cyar’ika. Let go.”

You did, and the pleasure rushed through you like an avalanche, building from the base of your spine, spiraling upwards until it overflowed from you in a gasp. He worked you through it, praising you, until you began to relax in his arms.

Din released his grip on your neck suddenly, but before you could even begin to make a sound mourning its loss, he used it to grab your other leg and wrap it around his waist, pinning you to the wall. His cock was suddenly pressed against you, right where his tendrils still held you open, and you moaned. 

You felt him start to pull out, his tendrils dragging lightly inside of you, and whined in protest. 

“Shh,” he said, kissing you quickly. The tendrils held you open once more and he thrust forward until his cock was sliding against your open, wet pussy. “I’ve got you.”

On his next thrust, the head of his cock notched against your entrance and you sucked in a sharp breath. You could feel his tendrils guiding him in as he slid forwards, pressing onwards until he was fully inside of you. Even after the way he’d just opened you up the stretch was amazing.

He paused for a moment, and you realized you were both breathing heavily and quickly. “Can I–”

“Move,” you interrupted him, and with a full-body shudder, he did.

Starting slow and building to a rhythm that took your breath away, Din began to move his hips. As he thrust forward again, the tendrils caressed you, all over your body. A few of them left cool, wet marks across your skin and you shivered with the knowledge of where they had been.

You yanked his head up by his hair and even though you couldn’t see him, you pulled him forward into a kiss.

Din groaned into your mouth and you clutched at him, thrusting your hips forward to meet his. The tendril that had again started circling your clit began to move just right, and you almost sighed into his mouth, jaw falling slack.

“Din, I–” you were building towards your peak again, somehow, and like he could tell, his hips began to move faster.

He nipped at your bottom lip. “Yes, cyar’ika,” he breathed. “Come for me.”

Once more, you couldn’t help but do as he said. It felt like being pulled over a cliff, floating through the air with him supporting you everywhere, tendrils gliding along your skin and holding you up. You’d never felt anything like it, this full-body caress that held you firmly as you fell. You cried out his name and his hips stuttered once, twice, before he followed you over.

…

In the time it took for your breath to come back, Din maneuvered you both onto your cot and replaced his helmet, so he could turn the lights back on. You let yourself drift as you cuddled into his side, but as comfortable and sated as you were, you couldn’t turn off your curiosity.

“Can I–”

He laughed, and you smiled into his chest. “Ask.”

You weren’t sure where to start, so you went with the basics. “Do they… come from somewhere?”

Din hummed. “Not… physically.” He tugged you closer and you went easily. “I sort of think of them as shadows. Part of my shadow.”

“Have you always had them?”

He nodded as two tendrils started to stroke along your arm. “My parents – my actual parents – taught me to hide them. So I did, even from the Mandalorians. I could tell, even there, that there was no one else like me.”

You tightened your arm around his middle. You had the sudden urge to go back in time and hug little Din. 

“You know, you said no flirting, but I don’t think they got the message.” You looked down at where two shadowy tendrils were lightly tracing shapes along your naked thigh, the one you had thrown over his hip that Din held in a firm grip with his left hand. You could feel a tendril wrapping itself around your ankle while another wound around your waist. Each one left goosebumps in its wake and you shivered at the delicious feeling of all the ways he was touching you. 

He sighed. “I know,” he said, tone wry. “I was trying to stay away, but I’m too used to being alone on the ship. Not worrying about hiding it here. I know where everything is. And then every time I thought about you…” he ran his right hand up your spine and squeezed your thigh with the other. “I was trying so hard not to flirt or catch your attention that I ended up doing… all of that. I had no idea what to do, I was so afraid of you figuring it out. I’m pretty sure I even moved some of your stuff in my sleep.”

You laughed and propped your chin on your hand, leaning on his chest to look at his visor. “Wait,” you said, suddenly realizing what he’d said. “So you can be sitting up in the cockpit and move something down here?”

He nodded, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “I know this ship too well. It’s easier here.”

You bit your lip. You wanted… your next thought felt illicit, even after everything you’d just done together. You wanted to squeeze your thighs together and squirmed against him instead. 

He noticed, of course. “What?” He sounded amused.

“I just… if you can reach me, from all the way up there…” you knew he could see what you wanted. It had to be written all over your face. 

His grip on your thigh tightened. You grinned when he growled. Suddenly the lights flicked off, and you knew he must have done it without you noticing. You heard the hiss of his helmet release and realized neither of his hands had moved from your body. 

You shivered at the desire in his voice, once you could hear it unfiltered. “Oh, cyar’ika,” he murmured, and you felt hundreds of soft, barely there touches ease you into position straddling his hips. “Let me show you."

...

a/n: 👀

[mamawasatesttube]

thinking about timkon absolutely inscrutable flirting. like tim, being tim "foot in mouth, all the way to the ankle" drake, will often just say some mildly insane shit, and kon, because he is kon, is always unfortunately like 😳🥺🥰😊 about it, so tim thinks hes some kind of god of flirting. nobody else subjected to witnessing them thinks that.

[tulip-room]

Just a thought for you guys 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

smut under the cut minors dni

Ushijima who likes to take photos while he fucks you. You don’t think much of it but he has a little secret. He changes his Lock Screen weekly but it’s always you.

When he’s at matches he makes sure it’s an innocent photo of the two of you. You kissing his cheek as he has a steady arm around your waist. The minute he’s off the court though? Work mode comes off and it goes right back to whatever he’s chosen that week.

It’s always a Live Photo. This week it’s the top half of your face and it looks like you’re smiling. The minute he presses down on the screen though it’s really just a photo of you choked out in his dick, the flash of the camera making the sweat and precum on your face clear.

This man just loves seeing your mouth around his dick. I don’t make the rules 🤷‍♀️

[ma1dita]

Hiiii! can i get one ticket for the graveyard smash starring Spencer Reid with a pretzel and a hot dog please? :):) this is so cooool

somebody’s watching me

[STARRING: SPENCER REID x reader ; “Don’t…move.” “Please just play along.” ] wc: 1.5k whoops warnings: MDNI —post-prison reid, bff!fem!reader, exhibitionism/voyeurism, mirror sex (kinda), dubcon?, p in v, creampie :)  kinda inspired by 8x3 and other eps i cant be bothered to remember, title from the rockwell song

monster mash-terlist

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

Spencer always does what you want him to.

It’s a bad habit he’s picked up after a decade and a half of being your friend. You’ve been through it all together— after a few shitty breakups, navigating your twenties, several mid-life crises, health problems, and even him getting wrongfully sent to prison for a few months, sometimes he wonders how you’re still here, and still just as stubborn as him. 

But he’s not sure he can listen to you this time around. 

His eyes flicker around the underground bunker the both of you are locked in and the all-knowing Dr. Reid is stumped and there seems to be no other logical option than—

“Spence?”

The red laser beam pointed at you almost traces the curve of your jaw like someone’s drawing the shape from memory. And then it situates itself directly over your quickly beating heart.

“Don’t move,” he breathes, reaching out for you when your lips fall into a whimper, a slight sheen of sweat over your skin. You’re sat on his lap with your top off and maybe that’s the reason why he can’t focus on figuring out a profile for your psychotic ex-boyfriend who’s definitely watching every move you make through the two-way glass that's across from the bed.

“I think it’s because we’re not moving is why…Fuck, Spence, we have to do it.” The TV screen imbedded in the glass flashes red again to catch your attention, asking—no, demanding you two to humiliate each other in the most carnal way.

And sure he’s imagined you in this before, way more times than he’ll ever admit, on lonely nights on the jet, even when he scrolls through your Instagram profile (you’re the only account he follows and the sole reason he tolerates the app), and especially whenever he hears the lilt in your voice that you reserve only for him, but it wasn’t quite like this in his mind. 

“I can’t…I’m not gonna do that to you,” he swallows thickly, licking his lips and catching the way your eyes follow the movement. You’re… actually contemplating this, he realizes as he recognizes the sureness in the furrow of your brows, “Don’t. My team will find us and we’ll get out of here,” Spencer’s voice is hoarse and his eyes widen at the feeling of your fingers undoing the buttons on his purple dress shirt. You’re quick with it, and by the time you reach his midsection, he knows you’ve made your decision, “I don’t want to die, Spencer Walter Reid.”

“We’re not going to die!” he scoffs frustratedly, and the rest of the air in his windpipe escapes him as you press kisses down his exposed chest, “M’gonna…God. I’m gonna get us out of here, okay?” Your tongue darts out to lick at his skin, trailing back up towards his neck as you start to rock against his growing erection and he tries not to like it too much. Spencer’s large hands slap over the fat of your hips—the sound echoes in the quiet of the room; with the force he’s grabbing your skin, it's sure to leave marks.

“Think my way’s faster. You should multitask or something then.”

Your best friend’s nails dig harder into the fabric of your dress pants as he tries to stop you again, “We can’t do this.”

“I want to,” you nip at his Adam’s apple, “Come on, we’re adults. There's no one else I'd even entertain this thought with. Plus your team’s coming, right?” Your nose nuzzles at a sensitive spot behind his ear, and the kiss you leave there is tender, for him—not the camera in the corner of the room, “Please just play along.”

“You want this? Swear on it.”

Spencer’s pinky raises in the air, his other hand patting around the top sheet to try to find yours, and when he does it’s trembling. He holds it tight, for the audience inevitably watching and in an effort to calm you down—because the last thing he’d ever want to do is hurt you. But your eyes flicker to the screen that starts counting down from 10, and then back to his espresso ones that remind you not to show any fear, so you lock your pinky with his and clear your throat.

“I want you to fuck me, Spencer. I really do.”

Honestly, it’s an offer even he can’t refuse.

It’s awkward at first, clothes fumbling off of each other’s limbs and then he’s laying back just watching you stretch yourself out on his cock. Spencer doesn’t know where to put his hands—they’re rubbing soothing circles into your thighs that are wrapped around his waist. He’s just…watching you watch him, his eyes fluttering shut and your belly contracting as you start to move, stamping your feet onto the worn mattress to push and pull yourself on his pulsating length. The sound of skin against skin and the embarrassing squelch of your pussy almost shatters through the air and it makes you self-conscious, gripping onto his shoulders to anchor yourself back to reality. You’re seriously fucking your best friend in front of your ex-boyfriend and god knows who else, and it’s hard to catch your breath as tears begin to cloud your vision, the humiliation starting to catch up with your confidence.

“Fuck,” he hisses, clenching his jaw at the sound of your little cries, cunt swallowing him whole when you almost lose your footing, “Spence…I can’t…” He peeks an eye open to see you…feel you quivering on top of him with your gaze focused on the glass, “I’m sorry, I’m just scared,” you sniff. Spencer’s hand cups the soft of your jaw, wrapping around the junction of your neck soothingly, “It’s okay. M’here. It’s just me.”

He’s trying so hard to focus on consoling you, but you’re so tight and tense and it’s bad that plunging into you feels so good.

"I know. S'why I'm scared," you mumble, bottom lip pursed in a pout and then a strangled noise rips its way out of your throat. Spencer realizes he’s fucking up into you when he hears you wail again, palms against his chest as he drives up into your weeping cunt, “You can take it, right baby? M’gonna take care of you.”

Fucking you was like nothing his brain could’ve ever dreamed to imagine— the way you’re writhing above him, broken calls of his name asking for him to slow down. But now he’s made his decision too, that no matter how this ends, even if you both die or walk out of here and never speak again there’s nothing that can take away the divine image of your body going limp as you cum for the first time with a “Yes!”

The screen still flashes red in your peripherals a while later signaling the end of the session. Neither of you pay it any mind with you face down almost eating the stuffing from the lone pillow on the bed and his eyes fixated on the globes of your ass as they almost have a gravitational pull, vibrating along his dick when he yanks your hips back to meet his. A whine slips past your lips, your eyes meeting the glass and watching your best friend ruin you in the reflection. His hair is wild with his efforts, pressing down the small of your back and yes, maybe for once it’s nice to let Spencer make the decisions for the both of you. 

Especially if they make you feel this good.

“Eyes on me, baby. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

You wonder when the BAU will get to you both, and if they do, you selfishly hope there’s a chance Spencer will get to cum too. 

He’s really breathy as he instructs you to look at him again, the smell of your combined musk in the air, sweat and slick being shared between your naked bodies. His voice is a low timbre you’ve never heard before, but your eyes are still busy watching him thrust into you with intention as if this already isn’t a memory you’ll forget. You find yourself extra pretty when he makes your tits swing like this, half-caught in a daydream of Spencer hitting a particular spot and how happy you look to get fucked while being watched by a psychopath, the grin on your face fitting someone who deserves to be institutionalized. You’re enjoying this more than you should, reveling in the attention and arching your hips so he can hold onto them better.

“You’re shaking so hard...” he breathes, noticing the uncontested bliss that’s taken over your face, “You like this huh? Like watching us?”

Nodding your head and biting your lip, you moan, “Like ‘em watching you fuck me. Your cock feels so good…” Your words are invigorating, making him tighten his hands around your neck as you go dizzy with pleasure.

"That's my girl," he smirks.

By the time your eyes roll to the back of your head for a second time, neither of you notice the number of lasers pointed at your bodies increasing, or the sound of the sirens outside the locked door. Spencer’s too far gone, hands interlocked around your throat to pull your head up towards his, moaning into your mouth as his cock stutters, stuffing you to the brim just as the door bursts open.

Came right in time.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

ma1dita's monster mash is open for requests until 10/12 :)