#up close and intimate with the man i love more than anything else

[wildsaltair]

in a better world, he’s my beloved husband

[spencerreidenjoyer]

addicted to you | spencer reid x reader

Spencer isn’t inclined to be affectionate with you. He’s a socially awkward germaphobe, and you’re perfectly fine with it. However, being three months into your relationship, you can’t help but want more. Once Spencer gets a taste, he wants more too. A lot more.

part 1 | part 2 - insatiable

wc: 6.1k, rating: explicit/18+

tags/warnings: established relationship, first times, virgin!spencer, early seasons spencer, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering praise kink, morning wood, morning sex, sex in unconventional places (like, not in public but not the bed lol), cunnilingus, creampie, implied multiple orgasms

a/n: no excuse for this insane fic but i was strangely inspired by a post i saw on twitter that i wanted to put a lighthearted (and horny) spin on. i definitely felt crazy writing this and i feel crazy posting this now so i sure hope you enjoy this insanity! (p.s you can also find this fic on ao3!)

You don’t mind that Spencer isn’t touchy. You understand, with Spencer being a germaphobe and a little socially awkward, that he isn’t inclined to kisses on the cheek or holding your hand. You’ve only been dating for three months, and he’s already getting better at doing these things, which makes your heart sing. 

Spencer is sweet, willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. He used to shy away from your touch, but he’s gotten more comfortable with you. He lets you hold his hand when you’re out on a date, or he’ll kiss you chastely out in public. He lets you drape yourself over him when you’re sitting on the couch together watching a show, his arm around your waist to pull you in close. 

While you can understand Spencer’s hesitance towards public displays of affection, due to his awkwardness and anxieties about germs, you’re surprised he hasn’t initiated anything more in the privacy of his apartment (or yours). You’re starting to itch for it, something more, your attraction to Spencer Reid simply too overwhelming for it to simply be sweet and innocent anymore. Your body craves him desperately, because he’s so lovely and so fucking handsome. You’ve caught yourself staring at his hands more than once.

Tonight, you decide you’ll get what you want. You’re going to fuck Spencer Reid.

With your head buried in his shoulder during movie night, your hand runs down his body, getting dangerously close to his crotch – he jumps up off the couch, almost comedic, and stares at you like your touch had burned him. He looks positively freaked out. 

“Spencer,” you say, very confused that he’s not into this. What kind of man doesn’t like his girlfriend initiating sex? Hell, what kind of man doesn’t like sex? 

“I just–” Spencer pauses, like he’s struggling to find the words. “I can’t. Not right now, I–”

“Hey, it’s okay.” You assure him. “We don’t have to. Ever, if that’s what you want.”

His eyes widen again. “No! I want to, just– It’s difficult, right now.”

You cock your head slightly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Spencer frowns slightly, seeming to know that talking about it is the most rational thing to do, but it’s not like that makes him want to do it. “Well, I– I’ve never done it before.”

Your mouth falls open, just a little, and you look up at him. While you don’t mean to judge, it certainly isn’t surprising. Spencer was fourteen when he was starting university, and his general awkward demeanour and extreme nerdiness would likely rule out any sexual encounters for him during his time in college. Spencer’s line of work would clearly make it difficult for him to maintain a relationship – you definitely lucked out with getting to date him – and he’s too much of a softie for one night stands. So, Spencer Reid being a virgin at twenty-seven definitely checks out.

“That’s okay,” you say softly. “It’s totally normal.”

Spencer’s lips press into a thin line. “Well, you know it took me a while to get used to being affectionate with you, so I think–”

“Being intimate with someone else is going to be a hurdle you’ll need time to cross, too?” 

Spencer looks up at you, eyes wet, looking at you like you’ve read him like an open book. He whispers, “Yeah.”

“That’s okay,” you repeat, even though you’re trying to come to terms with the fact that you’re not going to fuck Spencer Reid tonight. “I’ll– We’ll take it slow, if you want to try.”

“Yes, please.” He has a small smile on his lips as he looks up at you. “I– We could try doing something tonight, too. I just– I wasn’t expecting it earlier. I’m sorry for pushing you off like that.”

You shake your head, reassuring him that you aren’t offended by it by any means. Then, you ask, “You’re sure you want to try? Tonight?”

Spencer nods, as he reaches for your hand. He holds it gently, resting it on his thigh. “Yeah. I haven’t– It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone, but I want to, with you.”

You lean in to kiss his cheek gently. “I’m glad you trust me.”

His eyes are soft and syrupy when he meets your gaze. “Of course I trust you.”

You squeeze Spencer’s thigh before pressing your lips to his, the familiarity of kissing Spencer making you both ease up a little more. Your kiss is gentle, sweet, just like every other kiss you've shared, but you let your hand slide up his thigh as you kiss him, and you can feel Spencer tensing up under your touch. You squeeze his thigh to reassure him, and you feel Spencer wriggle underneath where you're leaning your body weight on him to loosen up. 

Your hand skirts over his crotch, a hardness under your palm that makes you feel somewhat proud of yourself. Spencer’s breathing is heavy as he keeps kissing you, and keeps letting you touch him. You think he’s so cute. You just want to make him feel good. 

You push the waistband of his sweats down, tugging him out of his pants. His cock is the same shade of red as his cheeks, his shyness turning you on extremely. 

He doesn’t look down at himself, where you’re holding him – instead, his eyes are intently focused on your face. You don’t push him about it, instead leaning forward to kiss him as you start to stroke his cock. 

This time, it feels desperate. Spencer kisses you with more fervour, like a fire’s been lit within him, the pleasure running through his veins almost like liquid courage as he kisses you deeply. You’re more than happy to be doing this, letting Spencer lick into your mouth while you jerk him off. You appreciate the weight of him in your hand, imagining him inside of you – but perhaps you’re getting ahead of yourself. 

“You can touch me, Spence,” you say, in between Spencer kissing you fervently. His hands have been cupping your face, but otherwise he seems awkward with them. You pull back slightly, and while it’s adorable that he’s still holding your face sweetly, you drag his hands down to your chest, in the oversized t-shirt you’d stolen from Spencer’s drawer. “Like this.”

Spencer’s large hands cup your breasts through the shirt perfectly. He squeezes tentatively. You bite your lip as his palms brush over your nipples, as he manhandles you just a little. It’s more force than you’re used to from Spencer, kneading and squeezing and feeling you, and that makes your head spin. 

Daringly, Spencer’s hands slip under your shirt, as he leans back in to kiss you. You feel his calloused hands on your skin as he feels you up, making you shudder. His touch isn’t demanding nor pushy, simply exploratory as he feels your soft skin under his fingertips. 

Your arousal is pumping through your system, Spencer’s gentle submissiveness like a drug you can’t kick. The more you touch him, the more he reacts; touching you more, whimpering and gasping against your lips, into your neck.

“Come on, baby,” you coo in his ear, your hand speeding up on Spencer’s hardness. He’s leaking pathetically, wet in your palm, and he squirms underneath you. 

“I’m– It’s too–” Spencer cuts himself off with a helpless whine, like he can’t control himself. His hands grip your waist tight. “Please–”

“Mm,” you hum sympathetically, while you thoroughly enjoy seeing Spencer like this. “Wanna cum like this, baby?”

Spencer’s breathing hard. He can’t get the words out, but he shakes his head. You slow your strokes, to an excruciating pressure on his length. “No? Then tell me, Spence.”

“Inside you,” He gasps, eyes squeezed shut. 

You absolutely should not let Spencer fuck you for the first time on his couch, but he’s desperate and your resolve is steadily crumbling. “You– You’re sure?”

“Please,” Spencer gasps, his eyes pleading with you helplessly.

So, you pull your hand back and push your shorts off instead. Your panties come off in one fell swoop, and you sit back onto the couch with your legs spread. Spencer’s eyes are wide and his lips are parted as he looks at you, takes the sight of you in. 

Then he’s like a baby deer, standing up and fumbling to get his sweatpants off. You can’t help but giggle at his awkward movements, in his excitement and eagerness to get to touch you, to get to fuck you. He’s quick to get between your legs, his hardness nudging at your entrance already. 

“Mm, not yet, Spence,” you hum. You reach for his hand, taking his wrist as you guide his fingers to your clit. “You know what to do, right?”

He turns his wrist so his fingers – God, his fingers – are poised almost elegantly above your clit. He presses down and starts to circle his fingers against you. You gasp.

“Thought you didn’t– oh– Didn’t have much experience,” you gasp. You hold onto Spencer’s forearm tight, throwing your head back as Spencer pleasures you.

Spencer huffs out a laugh. “I might not be experienced, but I’m not a prude– I remember the… stuff I’ve seen. Eidetic memory and all.”

“Stuff,” you laugh. “I’m sure the porn you’ve watched must’ve helped, darling.”

He slips his fingers into your wetness with an unsurprising ease, considering how turned on you are by him. He hits spots inside you you’ve never thought were possible to reach, but they make electricity zip up your spine. You moan as he crooks his fingers into you, rocking them in and out with a wet squelch.

Spencer grins at you. “You were saying?”

“You’re a cocky bastard, you know that?” you huff, your tone teetering between awfully turned on and mildly annoyed. 

“You like it,” Spencer says, assured of himself, and you smile, because you really do.

“My love,” you moan, as Spencer presses his fingers into you, back out. “You should try fucking me now.”

Spencer’s fingers are still inside of you, and his eyes are wide as he looks up at you. “You think so?”

You smile at him. “If you think you’re up for it.”

You mourn the loss of Spencer’s fingers, but as he’s mumbling to himself and lining his cock up with your entrance, you can only coo at how adorable you find all of this. And how turned on you are, but that’s more than obvious to the both of you by now. 

He looks to you, like he’s looking for reassurance. You nod. Even in the silence, he’s gotten the confidence to push his cock into you, the thickness of his tip breaching your hole. You gasp as you stretch around him, your cunt making space for him as he slides in, excruciatingly slow. “Spencer–”

Spencer lets out a whine as your tight heat engulfs him, his length swallowed up by you as he sinks deeper into you. “Oh, my God–”

“Just like that, baby,” you moan, your leg hooking around Spencer’s leg to coax him forward, closer to you. “Fuck.”

“Do I– When should I–” Spencer gasps, unable to form a coherent sentence with the pleasure swimming through his bloodstream. 

“You can start moving when you don’t feel like you’re going to blow your load if you breathe the wrong way,” you joke, but Spencer does seriously look like he’s going to finish any second. “Hey. Deep breaths, baby.”

Spencer’s brows are furrowed and his eyes are squeezed shut as he breathes in hard, in through his nose and out through his mouth. He’d told you to do that when he’d helped you through a panic attack one time, and while you feel bad that he feels so nervous about all this, it’s extremely amusing to you right now. 

“Look at me,” you say, trying your best not to laugh. “You’re doing great, love.”

Spencer pulls his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes looking to you for validation. 

“So good for me, darling,” you coo, your hand on his hip, while your thumb draws little circles into his skin. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” Spencer shudders, voice high-pitched and a little breathy. “I– You feel really good.”

“Yeah? It’ll feel even better when you start moving, sweetheart,” you hum. “You think you can do that for me? Slow, out then back in.”

Spencer whimpers, nodding, and he takes another deep breath in. His hands on your waist, he pulls out halfway before pressing back into you, and he moans so loudly your ears ring. “So– So tight, you–”

“That’s good, yeah? Feels good?” you coo. “Come on, baby. More.”

Spencer rests one of his arms on the back of the couch, holding himself steady and getting him that much closer to you. He starts to thrust in and out, starting off slow as he finds a rhythm. 

His thrusts are erratic, but you’re so wildly turned on and it still feels amazing, because it’s Spencer. 

Spencer is frantic, desperate, bracing himself against the couch as he fucks into you. Maybe pounding into you is a better phrase to use, because he’s fucking you like a madman, till the couch is squeaking under both your weight. You cry out, feeling Spencer drilling into you – and it feels so good.

“Oh, God,” Spencer whines. “You– It’s so good, oh–”

“Yeah, baby?” You rock your hips along with him, burying Spencer deeper into you. You clench so each thrust is a little tighter, and each time Spencer fucks into you, he moans a little louder. 

Amidst Spencer’s whines and pretty noises, you watch his face morph with pleasure, feeling assured that he’s enjoying this as much as you are. In fact, he’s probably enjoying this more. As you’re lost in your train of thought, admiring Spencer’s gorgeous face, you’re startled when you feel Spencer’s load inside of you, hot and slick. His hips flush against your ass, Spencer shudders as he rides out his orgasm, body trembling from the force of his pleasure.

“Oh, Spence,” you giggle, a little dizzy from how turned on you are, from watching Spencer lose himself just like that. You reach up to cup his face, your thumb gentle on his cheek. “Was that good?”

“Oh,” Spencer mumbles, seemingly brought back to reality. He pulls back, taking the sight of you in. “I’m– I’m good, I’m sorry–”

“Don’t be,” you say. “You’re so cute. It’s so hot.”

“I mean, you are too, but– But you haven’t–”

“You wanna make it up to me, then?” You smile, gentle and warm and Spencer nods like he’s eager to please you. 

You kiss him while he pulls out, replacing the thickness of his cock with two fingers, which fit into you easily. Like before, Spencer presses his fingers into you, slick and wet and squelchy. Spencer curls them and fingerfucks you like a pro, like he’s done this a hundred times. With his face pressed into your shoulder and your arms slung around his neck, Spencer fucks you on his fingers until your toes are curling and you’re screaming his name. You cry out as you orgasm, shaking as Spencer fucks you through it. 

You’re almost embarrassed when you finally come back to your senses, no longer reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. Spencer is kissing your jawline sweetly, his clean hand stroking your hair.

“Hey,” Spencer says softly, somehow knowing you needed to hear him. He parrots you from earlier, “Was– Was that good?”

“So good, my love,” you murmur into his shoulder. Then, after a quiet moment, “I thought you needed some time to get comfortable with being intimate.” 

Spencer pauses for a moment, like he’s pondering it, before he says, “I know. But for you, I think I’d do anything.”

That’s all Spencer manages to get out before you kiss him again. It’s tender and sweet, the intensity behind your kiss no longer lustful but full of adoration and love. You feel like you could sob right now, but you manage to hold it back.

Spencer gets into the shower with you, which you’re surprised by, but his hands are soft on your body as he cleans you up. You shampoo his hair for him, even though he has to lean forward a little so you can reach. 

You end up falling asleep in Spencer’s bed, curled up in his arms. 

You don’t dream at night, but when you wake up with a hardness poking against your thigh and Spencer’s gentle snoring in your ear, you think you might be. 

In your dreariness, you reach behind you, the angular sharpness of Spencer’s hip bone under your palm. He’s warm, cuddled up against you, and the tickling of his breath on your neck tells you that this isn’t a dream. 

“Spence,” you whisper, shaking him slightly. You watch as he blinks himself awake, drowsy as he comes to focus on your face. “Hey.”

“Good morning,” Spencer says, his voice rough with disuse. “What’s up?”

“You are,” you smile, a little too pleased, as your hand snakes down toward his crotch. 

He squeaks at the contact, your soft hand on his hardness, “Um, sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” you laugh. “Had a good dream?”

He pulls his lower lip between his teeth. “About you, yeah.”

“Wanna tell me about it?” you goad, wiggling your eyebrows. 

Spencer’s cheeks somehow get even redder than they already were, but he shakes his head. “I want– I want to have sex, though.”

Your eyes widen. “Now?”

“Do you have the time for it?” He asks, sheepish. “I– I want to fuck you again.”

Your cheeks flush at Spencer’s sudden crudeness. You think about what Spencer could’ve possibly dreamt up, wonder how Spencer could possibly be confident enough to tell you straight up that he wants to fuck you. That phrase probably hadn’t been in Spencer’s lexicon until about twelve hours ago – while Spencer was smart – a literal genius – his innocence was completely understandable. 

“We have time,” you exhale, looking back into his eyes after looking at the clock. “I only have to be at the office in a couple of hours.”

“Good,” Spencer says, leaning in to kiss down your neck. His hands are frisky already, slipping underneath your shirt. Spencer splays his hands over your stomach, before reaching up to cup your breasts in his hands. 

“You like touching me like this, don’t you, baby?” you chuckle breathlessly, already feeling weak in the knees from the way Spencer holds you. “Mm, I’m surprised.”

“Why is that?” His words are slightly muffled against your skin, too busy kissing you to make himself sound coherent. His hands are rough against the softness of your skin, and you moan from the way he’s handling you.

“Yesterday you couldn’t even tell me you wanted to fuck,” you croon, thoroughly pleased. “And now you’re touching me like you know what you’re doing. It’s so hot.”

“I– I just can’t get enough of you,” Spencer admits, his earnest words turning you on extremely.

“Now you’re just horny,” you laugh, feeling Spencer’s hand slide over your underwear.

“Mm, you’re so wet right now too,” Spencer murmurs in your ear, his warm breath and raspy voice sending a shiver down your spine. Where’d he learn to talk like that? You squeeze your thighs together, but that doesn’t stop Spencer from feeling the wetness between your legs, soaking through your panties. 

“All for you, baby,” you gasp, as Spencer’s fingers slip past the band of your underwear, deftly stroking your clit. “Spencer–”

“Can I fuck you? Please?” He pleads, breathy, his hips already rutting forward against your ass. 

His eagerness makes your head spin, his sudden confidence in the realm of sex surprising – maybe it’s cockiness, but you still find that stupidly attractive – but it is certainly welcomed. 

“Yes, Spence, please,” you shudder, the word yes leaving your lips enough for Spencer to pull your underwear down, over the swell of your ass. He fumbles with his own boxers for a moment, but soon you feel his hard, leaking tip pressed to your butt. He rocks his hips back and forth, desperately seeking whatever friction he can get. 

Lost in his own pleasure, Spencer is quick to slide his cock between your legs, the wetness from your cunt making it easy for him to rut into the tight, slick space. Like this, his length rubs up against you, the head of his cock nudging at your clit with every thrust of his hips. It feels primal, Spencer so far gone that he isn’t even fucking you proper, content with the slick, tight space between your thighs and your pussy. You wonder if you need to tell him, but Spencer’s groan in your ear is shaky as his tip catches on your hole.

His arms wrapped around you, both of you moan as Spencer finally sinks his cock into you. He slides in too easily, so easily you almost think he’d hadn’t meant to do it. Maybe he hadn’t, but you’d gotten there in the end, where you both need to be; Spencer buried inside of you.

It’s so different from yesterday, the angle when he presses into you from behind so exhilarating, so good. He’s just as desperate as last night, but there’s a sort of reckless confidence in his movements. His hands slide under your shirt to grab at your tits again, rocking his hips while he practically gropes you. It’s so hot your head spins. You feel like you’re going to explode.

“Spencer!” You cry out, your voice ripping its way out of your throat. Pleasure surges through you like electricity, Spencer’s thick cock hitting all the right spots from this angle. His eager desperation turns you on to no end, as you let him take you from behind. While you weren’t expecting lazy, morning sex at all, the intensity and desperation he fucks you with right now makes you think you could get used to this.

Spencer’s whine has your head spinning. His hips don’t slow, more rhythmic than yesterday but still as needy. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“Yeah?” You coo breathlessly. You’re so fucking turned on, and every time Spencer drives his hips into you you can hear how wet you really are. “You’re doing so good for me, Spence, fucking me so good.”

“You like it? Is it good?” Spencer gasps, always so eager to please you.

“So good,” you moan. You’re still sore from last night, but the pleasure Spencer is giving you right now overrides all of that. You would love for him to wake you up like this every day. “I’m close, baby.”

“Oh,” Spencer says, like he’s surprised you’re already getting off on this, on him– “What do you need me to do?”

“Just keep going, Spence,” you gasp. “Keep fucking me just like this.”

Spencer’s hum is breathy, high-pitched. Somehow, his grip on you gets tighter, holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. The force he fucks you with is so wildly arousing. You’re so enamoured, and so turned on.

Your orgasm creeps up on you, slow and steady as it bubbles up inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the dirty, rough way Spencer fucks you, and then you feel his soft lips on your neck again. He isn’t properly kissing you – more like slobbering all over your neck, but you cry out as he does so, thighs pressing together as you reach your orgasm. You’re shaking through it, clenching around Spencer as you come, and Spencer’s gasping as your tight pussy pushes Spencer over the edge too. You feel his come inside of you, cock twitching as his load spurts hot and heavy into your cunt. You sob, feeling Spencer slow his thrusts as he rides out his orgasm.

“Holy shit,” you say, your voice coming out ragged and hoarse. You feel like a different woman, being fucked ruthlessly by your boyfriend in his bed for the first time. You can’t get enough. 

“I love you,” Spencer says quietly, earnest. It makes you shudder. 

“You’re crazy,” you laugh, taken aback at how Spencer’s returned to his gentle, soft self. “I love you too, you madman.”

“I can’t resist you,” he murmurs in your ear, the vibrations of his raspy morning voice almost soothing.

You turn around to face him, Spencer still holding you in his arms. He smiles warmly at you, and you lean in to kiss him. “You’re so cute.”

“Wanna go again?” he asks, somewhat timid. 

Your eyes widen. You try to hide your grin, but it doesn’t work. “Someone’s desperate, huh?”

Spencer flushes a gorgeous red. “Maybe a little?”

“I have to get ready for work,” you sigh, actually a little bummed that you can't spend all day fucking Spencer. “Maybe tonight?”

“Okay,” Spencer smiles. “Want me to drive you back to yours?”

You grin. “You’re the best!”

Work is relatively uneventful, numbers and Excel spreadsheets; and all you can think about is Spencer’s rapid change in demeanour over the last twelve hours, his innocence torn away by you, leaving behind a horny, insatiable man. You’re kind of proud of yourself for that. 

So, you can’t blame yourself for being excited to get back to Spencer’s. Lately, you’ve been staying over more, your apartment simply a place to house your wardrobe. Maybe you’ll talk to Spencer about living together.

“Hey, Spence,” you say, pleased when Spencer kisses you as he greets you at the door. 

Even with all the probable germs on you from being out all day, Spencer’s surprisingly clingy, hands on your waist as he stumbles in behind you, as you set the takeout you’d brought over on his dining table. Spencer leans in behind you, kissing your cheek then down your neck.

“Hey, what’s with you, baby?” you chuckle, very much enjoying the way Spencer’s hands slide down your waist to your hips, grabbing the meat of your thighs through your dress pants.

“Missed you,” Spencer answers simply, but even you can tell there’s something in his voice that implies he’s looking for something more. 

“I’m sorry I had to leave you alone the whole day, my love. I’m sure you must’ve found something to busy yourself with, though?” You hum, teasing. You have a good idea of where this is going.

Spencer’s quiet for a moment, so you turn to look at him. His lips are pressed into a thin line, looking almost nervous, and his cheeks are flushed red. Spencer finally presses his body close to yours, and you feel it–

“Spence,” you grin, “Someone’s happy to see me.”

“Thought about it– Thought about you all day,” Spencer mumbles. “You promised.”

“What did I promise, baby?” you egg him on, eager to hear him say it, even though you definitely know what he’s going to ask. 

“That we would do it again tonight,” he answers, but you shoot him a look. “You said we would have sex again tonight.”

“Twice in one day? I don’t know, baby,” you pretend to sound disinterested.

Spencer looks at you with wide eyes. Respectful as ever, he clears his throat. “Please? If you’re tired we don’t have to, but I really want to. Only if you want to, though. This involves both of us, I don’t want to impose–”

You giggle, reaching to hold his hands. “God, you’re perfect.”

“What–?” Spencer barely gets the word out before you’re kissing him. He’s happy to do so, holding your face gently, matching your energy perfectly. You feel his cock pressing against you. 

“I turned you into a sex fiend,” you laugh, between kissing him, “And you’re still thinking about making sure I’m into it too.”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Spencer’s brows furrow slightly, like he can’t comprehend how he could be into it if you weren’t too. “And I- I’m not a sex fiend, I just–”

Smiling, you whisper sultrily, “I think you should take me right here, baby.”

“Oh–” You cut Spencer off with another kiss, and he squeaks as you reach for his half-hard cock through his sweatpants. You’re positively delighted that Spencer’s like this, for you.

Spencer kisses you deeply, leaning forward until the small of your back hits the edge of the table. His hands coming up to your ass, he lifts you up, getting you to lay back on the table. You gasp, as Spencer kisses down the column of your neck, his hands making quick work of the buttons of your dress shirt. His lips are soft against your skin, at the swell of your breasts. Your shirt gets pushed off your shoulders. You feel him unhook your bra with a surprising ease, tossed aside, and then his hands are grabbing your tits like they were made for him. His thumbs brush over your nipples, a little forceful as he kneads at you, and your head is spinning. 

“Spencer,” you moan, as he kisses down your stomach, unbuttoning your pants to reveal your soaked-through underwear. He smiles up at you, his messy mop of hair a lovely sight. 

“Can I…?” Spencer’s big brown eyes dart down to where you’re soaked, then back up at you.

Your eyes widen. “Yes. If you want to.”

Spencer grins. “Of course I want to.”

His fingers are gentle on your hips as he pulls your panties off, wasting no time in spreading your legs so he can get between them. Your eyes are wide as you watch him, feeling kind of self-conscious over how eager he is to be doing this. Knelt between your thighs, he lifts one of your legs and swings them over his shoulder. You can feel his stubble on the soft skin of your inner thigh, his nose nudging against your clit. His tongue comes up, wet and hot, as he tastes you for the first time. “Spencer–”

He presses his face impossibly closer, more urgent in eating you out. You watch as his eyes flutter shut, his jaw flexing as his tongue works on you, and you’re trembling already. Spencer’s extremely good with his mouth, and you’re surprised at how good he’s making you feel, considering he likely hasn’t done this before. The sounds of his mouth are wet and squelchy and so obscene, and you would feel almost embarrassed, were it not for how into this Spencer seems to be too, 

With your hands in his hair, you cry out when Spencer’s tongue circles your swollen clit, jolts of pleasure sent through your body. You can’t think straight when Spencer’s face is buried between your legs, eating you out like he was made for this. All you can think about is how gifted Spencer is with his tongue, and how you wish you could do this all night. 

“Please, love,” you moan, “Need you to fuck me.”

Spencer hums in approval, the vibrations between your legs making you jump. He makes a little wet slurping noise before he comes back up, and you feel your cunt throb when he looks up at you with his lovely, wide brown eyes, and his chin wet and messy with your slick. Spencer wipes his face with the back of his hand, and you’re so turned on you might just explode.

“I love you,” you tell him earnestly. “I think this is the craziest thing I’ve ever done. I love you.”

“What is? Having sex on my dinner table?” Spencer quips, as he sets your legs down and stands back up. He has a cocky grin plastered on his face. 

You roll your eyes playfully. “First time for everything, right?”

Spencer nods, smiling, before he leans forward to kiss you sweetly. You watch as he pulls his sweatpants down, his cock bobbing up, red and angry and rock hard. You feel yourself salivating at the sight, but decide that he needs to fuck you right now.

“Spencer,” you mewl, feeling breathless as you watch him wrap a hand around himself, stroking his length. Concentration is written all over his face and it makes you want to kiss him. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” Spencer says, pressing his cock forward until he’s lined up with your entrance. It’s so tantalising, the way the blunt head of his cock threatens to slip into you. You’re so wet and so loose for him, and you need him inside of you now.

You gasp when he finally pushes in, his thick cock splitting you in half as he slides into you. The pressure is so perfect, the slow draw of his hips as he takes care not to rush, wanting to take care of you. Even with all this still being new for Spencer, he still focuses on you, puts you first. You’re not sure if you’re swooning over him, or the way his cock fits inside you perfectly.

You don’t need to encourage him to start moving. He rocks his hips slowly, somehow already familiar with your body, and makes you feel like you could explode with pleasure. 

He leans forward, pressing his body to yours as he kisses you. Like this, Spencer presses into you deeper, fucks you slow and deep and loving. The edge of the table is absolutely digging into your back, but you don’t care when every sense of yours is filled with Spencer, getting to taste and touch and hear him. You taste yourself on his tongue, hear the sloppy way he thrusts into you, your skin burning wherever he’s pressed up against you. 

Burying his face in your neck, Spencer pants in your ear, hot and heavy as he fucks you, giving you everything you need. Your head is swimming with arousal, as Spencer presses you against the table and fucks you like his life depends on it. “You feel so good, fuck, so good–”

“I’m so close, baby,” you cry out, the pace absolutely ruthless as Spencer fucks you. You didn’t think his stamina would be this good, considering your boyfriend’s lanky stature and abhorrence towards exercise. You certainly wouldn’t mind doing this kind of cardio with him more often. “Please, Spence–”

“Let go, I– I’m here for you,” Spencer stumbles over his words, but he’s so sweet that you’re losing yourself, your orgasm crashing into you like a tidal wave. You scream as you reach your peak, your toes curling while Spencer fucks you through it, shaking as pleasure and arousal zips through your body. Spencer’s hips stutter as the tightness of your pussy has him reeling, too close too quickly. 

While his hips keep a steady pace, you’re feeling loopy as Spencer continues to fuck you. You hold his head close to you, kissing his forehead as you murmur, “You’re so hot, Spence. Made me come so quickly, and you held out for me? So good for me, baby. Are you close?”

Spencer whines, a pitiful noise in the back of his throat. “Please, I’m so close, need you–”

“I’m right here, baby,” you coo, stroking his sweat-matted hair sweetly. You’re so enamoured with him. “Gonna cum inside me, Spence? Fill me up with your–”

You don’t even get to finish your dirty talk before Spencer is moaning, coming inside of you. It feels like he’s released so much inside of you, hot and messy as he fucks you through his own high. His chest heaves as he pants, trembling as he reels from the intensity of his orgasm. Spencer’s hips slow to a stop, and he mouths at your neck mindlessly until he seems to get his bearings back. You imagine you must look a mess, sweat and spit all over you, your makeup from a long day of work likely running by now. 

Spencer gets up off of you, so both of you have space to catch your breaths. You feel Spencer slip out of you with a slick ‘pop’, and feel his release trickle out of you just moments after. You stifle a quiet moan, but when you look up at Spencer, his eyes couldn’t possibly leave the sight between your legs. His lips are parted slightly, pupils blown wide, as he watches you drip with his release. You feel Spencer’s cock, resting against your inner thigh, twitch slightly. 

“Woah there, cowboy,” you chuckle, out of breath. “Give me a minute to recover.”

His eyes practically twinkle when they dart up to look at you. He’s like an excited puppy as he asks, “Again?”

You shake your head, laughing, and sit up to kiss Spencer again. “Maybe we could try something new?”

Spencer grins, nodding eagerly. It definitely seems like he’s down for whatever, as long as it’s with you. 

[gloomwitchwrites]

Omg!! Think you can do the opposite version of the hickey ask? Where the guys notice a hickey and get all jealous n’ pissy🤩 i love it & your writing🥰

Ha! Anon, you have me giggling and kicking my feet. The hickey ask anon is talking about can be found HERE, but I absolutely love the idea of doing the opposite. Instead of a hickey on one of the guys, it's on reader. hehe. (oh god I need to go touch grass or maybe use my teeth to the mow the lawn right now because I am salivating).

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, possessive behavior, rough kissing, secret relationships, suggestive themes, jealousy

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John’s grip on your upper arm is a vice.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he says, voice low.

“Let go, John,” you snap. “You’re going to cause a scene.”

“Am I?” he counters. “Everyone’s already been talking. You’re showing that thing off on your neck like you’re proud of it.”

“Maybe I am,” you reply. “Why do you care?”

With a quick tug, John plasters you against him. His body is all heat and muscle. Everything in you ramps up, becomes wanton. It remembers him.

“Who the fuck touched what’s mine?” he asks in a hoarse whisper.

You swallow. Shake your head. “I’m not yours, John. You always push me away.”

John’s lips come dangerously close to yours. “Tell me who touched you.”

“You did. Don’t you remember?”

You feel him freeze, as if his mind and body are frozen as he tries to recall what happened. The two of you had been drinking when you slid into his lap.

John closes the distance, stealing a kiss that is more possession than anything else. The sensation goes straight down to your toes, and pools between your thighs.

“Come back to my office.”

“John—”

“I want to recreate last night.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“No. No. Don’t walk away from me.”

Kyle’s hand grips your wrist. He tugs, pulling you back in his direction. Kyle is right there, standing so close, head bent forward with intimacy that sinks down into your soul and shatters everything you are.

You cannot resist this man. Never.

“I don’t understand why you’re acting this way, Kyle.”

Kyle grasps the side of your face, his thumb pressing down on your bottom lip. “Because someone marked you. I want to know who it is.”

Does he not know? Does Kyle not remember?

Kyle licks his lips and you follow the movement, remembering how he tasted last night.

“Tell me who it is. I just want to talk to them. Set them straight.”

You laugh and Kyle frowns.

“You’ll be talking to yourself,” you reply.

His mouth opens. Closes. Kyle’s hand drops away from your face to settle on your shoulder, fingers delicately tracing the mark on your neck.

“I did this?” he asks, almost absently.

“You did,” you affirm, heat rising to your cheeks. “Last night.”

Kyle smirks. His gaze roams upward, meeting your own. “Want me to give you a few more? Doesn’t have to be on your neck.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Oh, love. What’s this?”

You lean away but Johnny is quick. He corners you, pressing you into the wall. He’s smiling, but you can see the underlying irritation. His gaze roams all over your body.

“Need something?” you bite, knowing that if the two of you linger here too long, someone will come looking or accidently happen upon you.

It’s not like Johnny is being discreet. He has one knee between your legs, and a hand on your hip. It’s a possessively intimate embrace, and it reminds you of all the things the two of you did last night.

“Aye. I do actually.” Johnny lightly pinches the mark on your neck and you flinch.

“What the fuck?”

“Who gave you that?”

You blink. “What?”

“The fucking hickey. Tell me so I can beat their fucking face bloody.”

You roll your eyes and Johnny pinches you again.

“Stop that.”

“Tell me.”

“You’ll be fighting yourself, Johnny.”

Johnny’s demeanor completely changes, becoming a sultry thing that swirls pleasure deep in your belly. This time he doesn’t pinch. He leans in, running his tongue along the mark. When he pulls back, he grasps you tight, pressing his lips to yours, stealing all breath.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“You’re mine,” growls Simon as he picks you up and sets you on top of your desk.

You have no space to argue. Simon is already kissing you. Nipping your lips. Drawing forth a bit of blood to suck into his mouth.

“I know,” you whimper as his hand squeezes your thigh, dragging you to the edge of the desk. His hardness grinds against you, and you moan.

“If you know, then tell me why someone else has marked what’s fucking mine.” Simon grasps the back of your neck, drawing you back, and holding firm. Your fingers claw at the front of his shirt.

“What are you talking about?”

Simon growls. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You blink. Completely confused. “You gave this to me.”

Simon says nothing. He just stares. “Last night.” You shrug. “I mean we drank a lot but fuck. Thought you’d remember that.”

Simon gently eases his hand from your neck. “I don’t. But you know what that means, love?”

You suck on your bottom lip, tasting a bit of blood that Simon coaxed to the surface. “What?”

“Just means I need to give you a few more. As reminders. For you. And others.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @greeniegreengreen @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@whisperwispxx @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @arrozyfrijoles23

[ithebookhoarder]

(BAU Headcanons) If you fell asleep on them

A/N: So... guess who fell into another fandom? I blame everyone on here and their amazing fics for convincing me I need to give this show and wonderful cast a chance. I may have binged 13 seasons in like a month... oops? I'm also looking at my fav BAU bunch here but I'm open to writing for other characters from the show

Aaron Hotchner

Just like some of the other members of his team, Hotch has a hard exterior that very few people manage to crack through. 

If you and he are in a relationship then I can bet you’ve already had to chip away at it, so you’re already pretty intimate with one another. Falling asleep on him is nothing to bat an eyelid at. If anything, he would welcome the opportunity to relax and hold you close to him.  

It also gives him an excuse to steal a few moments of sleep himself, not daring to move and wake you from your rest. 

He loves holding you close, letting himself listen to the steady beating of you heart as it gently lulls him to become calm enough to shut his eyes. 

However, if you weren’t in a relationship or if it happened in front of the others at the BAU then you know he’d immediately react by saying something about ‘work place conduct’. 

However, he’s clearly saying it for the sake of it as he’d make no effort to wake you or remove you from him. 

In fact, he makes sure to stay still and let you rest peacefully, making sure your neck isn’t bent so you don’t wake up in pain. 

He’d also make sure to lay his jacket over the top of you, a clear sign that you are not to be disturbed - under pain of death. 

David Rossi 

Rossi would be the first to complain if you ever fell asleep on him but it’s all good natured. In fact, he only ever complains about it to you after you’ve woken up and only as a joke between the two of you.

“What am I? Just a pillow to you? Are you trying to say my cooking has made me plump?” 

It’s hard to resist his charming smile, especially when he actually is rather comfortable to lean on. His expensive shirts are always soft to the touch, and the cologne you’d brought him last Christmas lingers as you nestle in close. 

He always make you feel safe, and that is an honour greater than any he’d ever been awarded. 

If it happened in front of the others you know he’d roll his eyes and mutter about the cheek of it all. However, his smile would be enough to tell the others he didn’t mean it. 

“I started reading my manuscript and this is what happens… guess that’s one way to leave a review.” 

He’d be sure to shoot daggers with his eyes at anyone else nearby who looked like they would wake you up. 

He’d also shoot down any possible jokes being made at your expense, his parental nature coming out in full force. 

Derek Morgan

This boy would be so smug if you ever fell asleep on him. Like, if you imagine a Labrador’s tail wagging with one of those big dopey grins, then that’s what he is. 

He is keen to try and capture the moment with a picture, setting it as his phone background to prove to himself it really happened. 

If it happens in front of the rest of the team then you know he is going to keep reminding you and everyone else whenever he gets the chance. 

However, you know that for all the bragging and teasing Morgan is actually super touched by the fact you fell asleep on him and he is keen to offer you a place to lay your head whenever you look like you need to take a beat. 

He even has a blanket and pillow in his go-bag especially for you. 

“Only the best for you, hot stuff.” 

He will never complain about it and - considering how much torture and pain we know this man can endure - he is more than capable of handling any cramp or pins and needles he gets as a result of you lying against him. 

Eventually, he would take the opportunity to try and sleep as well. With his job and his manic lifestyle, if he gets the chance to close his eyes he knows better than to waste it. 

Emily Prentiss

She would be shocked at first, especially if it’s early-on in your relationship. She isn’t really used to public displays of affection and you sleeping with your head on her shoulder is pretty public. 

She would stay as still as possible, though, scared of disturbing you or ruining the moment. She’d also probably be panicking internally, unsure what she was supposed to do. 

However, she soon takes a breath and relaxes. After all, you look so cute when you’re asleep and she is honoured you feel comfortable enough to relax around her like this. 

She doesn’t often get the chance to just sit and be peaceful so she savours the moment you’ve given her. 

She’d end up watching you for a while before relaxing and trying to adjust you so that you’re both comfortable. 

She would also take the opportunity to be affectionate, loving that she can run her hands through your hair and kiss your head without any fear of being embarrassed or rejected. 

After all, we know Emily has a soft centre underneath her tough, bad-ass exterior. She just needs to know she is able to express it. 

JJ

JJ is such a mom to everyone including you, so is over the moon the first time you fall asleep on her. She welcomes it with open arms, happy to melt into the embrace. 

It doesn’t matter if you’ve been together long or not, or if you’re in public. Either way, it feels like a personal badge of honour to be trusted in such a way, whether or not you meant to do it. 

She has enough patience not to move a muscle in case she disturbs you and ruins the moment. She knows that if you fell asleep like this then you probably need the rest. 

JJ would totally form a blanket cocoon around you to keep you warm and toasty as you sleep, wrapping her arms around you and cradling you close.

She’d smile the whole time, pressing kisses to the crown of your head and gently murmuring in your ear whenever you seem to stir. 

“Ssssh, Sleepyhead. It’s ok. I got you. Go back to sleep, honey.”   

If it was just the two of you then she’d be sure to try and move you somewhere more comfortable after a while, like the sofa or your bed. 

However, if you were in public then she would turn into a full mama bear and threaten anyone who came close or tried to disturb you. She has that angry mom look down to a fine art and has made grown men wither with it.

Penelope Garcia 

This beautiful baby angel would be so delighted if you fell asleep against her that she’d probably wake you up by accident after squealing a little too loudly. 

“Oh, oh, sorry. Sorry! Go back to sleep. I’m staying as still as a statue, you precious angel, I promise. So you just close your eyes and let me hold you.”

She’d probably manage like five minutes before she moves again and wakes you up, but it was enough time for her to steal a few private photos to commemorate the moment. 

They will most definitely be the background on her computer the following morning, and possibly yours too.

She would also be sure to make sure she has a blanket and pillow stashed away for you if you ever felt like taking an impromptu nap again when you weren’t at home. 

If you worked at the BAU they’d be kept in her lair - or your private napping room, as she tells you. 

They’d also be brightly coloured and super soft, chosen specifically by Penelope to make you as comfortable and as happy as possible, even whilst at the government building. 

“Just so you know, I gave them a spritz with this gorgeous lavender mist spray to help you knock right out the moment your pretty head hits the pillow. So, sweet dreams honeybun.” 

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer is a precious boy and would be utterly baffled at first if he looked down and realised you had fallen asleep on him. 

He would be surprised he hadn’t noticed you drooping against him sooner, or that your breathing had slowed as you fell asleep. 

At first he thinks it must be a mistake, immediately trying to ease you off of him. After all, he wasn’t the most comfortable person to sleep on and people are far more likely to find his company irksome rather than soothing. 

However, after you start doing it more often he realises that isn’t the case. 

In fact, he feels rather proud that you’ve got the point in your relationship where you aren’t afraid to relax around him. 

He also learns how not to let it over-stimulate him. It takes some time to train his mind to not think about the possible pathogens that could be passing between you or the way your hair tickles his face. He’s also able to talk to you about positions to curl up in if you ever want to sleep against him again, that he feels more relaxed in. 

He’d also totally be happy to tell you all about whatever his latest hyper-fixation is, knowing the sound of his voice helps you settle better than any lullaby. 

Masterlist

[jenoslutie]

is it casual? l l.dh (m)

❥ Synopsis: Nothing about what you and Donghyuck had was casual. Nothing in the way he held you close at night, or the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear when your sweaty bodies are connected and your breaths are laboured, or even the way sex with him felt... too intimate. Nothing about it was casual. But Donghyuck always told you what you had was only casual.

❥ Genre: Toxic FWB!Donghyuck, smut, friends with benefits au, he is toxic.

❥ Warnings: toxicity, reader is a little dumb, explicit smut scenes, recording during sex (consensually), reader x chenle for a second, reader flirts with hyuck's cousin for a second, fucking while family is in the other room, car sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, i cant think of anything else tbh!!

❥ Word count: 3.3K

❥ a/n: hi guys :D i apologize if this is some hot garbage LMAO not my proudest fic (especially the rushed ass ending) BUT! i did want to get it done and over with soooo here you go. Hope you enjoy it!! :D

Nothing about what you and Donghyuck had was casual. 

Nothing in the way he held you close at night, or the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear when your sweaty bodies are connected and your breaths are labored, or the way sex with him felt too intimate. Nothing about it was casual. 

But Donghyuck always told you what you had was only casual. 

“Oh Y/N? We just fuck sometimes” A lie. The same lie he says every time his friends ask about the two of you. Not a single one of them believes him. Not Renjun, not Jaemin, not Jeno. Hell, not even Mark, his best friend, believed him. 

“You don’t just bring anyone around to meet your mother, Haechan” Mark stated, the rest of the group agreeing with him. 

Haechan groans in protest, rolling his eyes, leaving the rest of his roommates on the couch and heading over to his room. 

hyuck: hey  hyuck: come see me. i miss ur pussy. 

you: wtf?? you: where's the decorum?? what happened to hi?? hello?? how was your day?? 

hyuck: you can tell me all about that after i finally get my mouth on your pretty pussy hyuck: come over

And who were you to deny anything Donghyuck asked you? Because within 30 minutes you were outside his apartment, ringing his doorbell and waiting for him to let you in. The door opens and there stands Donghyuck in all his glory. Donghyuck is no doubt an attractive man. Well, he wasn’t just attractive. He was ethereal. You could tell he was carefully sculpted by God himself. 

Upon walking in, you were met by the disappointed faces of his four roommates. You gave them a small smile in greeting, your smile was not a genuine one, anyone could tell it was forced, as was their smile in return. The boys loved having you around but they knew the intentions of their friend. They knew he treated you like way more than a fuckbuddy but wanted less than even fuckbuddies. You were left with no option but to shift your eyes down in shame, you followed him to his all too familiar room. One that you’d been in more than you’d ever like to admit. 

And just like that, before you knew it, you were in Lee Donghyuck’s bed once again. 

“You know Donghyuck is just keeping you around to fuck right?” Chenle suddenly blurted out. You had to cancel on Donghyuck to meet up with Chenle for your little brunch date and to say the least, Donghyuck was not that happy about it. You’re ditching him? For another man? Though the other man was your best friend who had absolutely no feelings whatsoever for you (and vice versa), it was enough for you to have an almost hour long call with Donghyuck prior to meeting up with Chenle that was full of arguing and Donghyuck claiming you cannot ditch him for Chenle.

Which you did. 

Though it didn’t last long because right after you left the brunch spot, you found yourself driving over to none other than Donghyuck’s house.  

“I missed you you know” He all but cooed, letting yet another lie slip from his lips. He was always the one who went M.I.A  after everytime you hooked up until he wanted to hook up again. 

No response. 

“Baby?”

No response. 

“Cmon, Why do you avoid me so much hmm?” You? Avoid Him? 

“I don’t” you huffed, sitting up to pull your shirt over your head. “You’re the one who doesn’t give a fuck about me unless it involves my pussy” 

“That’s not true..” He countered, “I also give a fuck if it involves your tits, and that pretty mouth of yours” You rolled your eyes at him, choosing to ignore his comment. He didn’t urge you either, only pushing you onto your back and climbing on top of you. 

“You know you missed me, didn’t you?” As embarrassing as it was to admit, you did miss him. In the few days you tried to go no contact with him. It was near impossible to get him out of your thoughts. 

And here you were, giving yourself to him once again.

So much for ‘I only want you’ 

Your jaw dropped in shock watching Donghyuck sitting on the couch at a party with some random girl straddling him while the two of them made out like they practically needed each other to breathe. Which if it was the case, you wouldn't be surprised. 

“Didn’t he literally just tell me he only wants me when he was cumming inside of me yesterday?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t know that,” Chenle grimaced. 

“Well! That’s besides the point. The point is, he told me he only wants me now his tongue is down another girl’s throat!” You groaned in frustration. You don't think you’d ever understand his intentions. Sure the sex was good, you enjoyed Haechan’s company more than most people you know but still. You were sick of the mixed signals, did he want you or did he just want you naked and in his bed? Most likely the latter.  

Watching him make out with the girl with no care in the world for you, made a lightbulb spark inside your head. “Why don’t we kiss?” you suggest hopefully. 

And you dont think you’ve ever heard a more vile sound leave Chenle’s mouth before. 

“My lips are not touching yours. Who knows where they’ve been” You rolled your eyes at him, pursing your lips playfully. “You know my lips are clean, Chenle.” 

“I don’t know about that. But…okay, let’s do it” His tone was incredulous, like he didn’t believe your lips were clean? Where the fuck else would they be? Ignoring his backhanded comment., you dragged him closer to where Hyuck was, with the girl still on his lap. It’s almost like he had completely forgotten about you. You’ve been watching him kiss the girl like he kisses you, touch her like he touches you, whisper in her ear like he does to you when he’s telling you all the nasty things he wants to do to you and it makes you sick. 

Without thinking any further, you pull Chenle in by the collar of his dress shirt and he clutches your chin, pulling you closer to him, warm tongue slipping between your lips and exploring the warmth of your mouth. Fighting the urge to moan into Chenle’s mouth, you decided to run your fingers through his hair, tugging a little every so often. Chenle however wasn’t trying to hide anything, he was groaning into your mouth everytime you tugged on his hair. It was a kiss so intense, anyone would look at you and think you two are either hooking up or lovers. The two of you get too caught up in your kiss to notice Hyuck had stopped kissing the new girl and was now boring holes into both of your skulls.

If there's one person that got on his nerves it was Chenle, he hated the way the two of you were so close but told everyone you’re ‘only friends’. So much for ‘only friends’ when the two of you were basically down each other's throats now. The intensity of the kiss fogged both of your brains to the point you forgot the real reason you were kissing him in the first place. Too distracted to even notice Hyuck approach the two of you in the corner you were in, forcing Chenle off you. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Hyuck’s eyes were wide and full of rage, your jaw dropped, what the fuck did he mean? 

“Why are you kissing him?” His words came out bitter, venom laced in his tone. He was pissed at the sight of you with another man. As if he wasn’t under another woman less than a minute ago. You gave him nothing but silence. Not a smart option, you decide. You catch Chenle snickering out the corner of your eye, distancing himself from the scene. 

And that's how you found yourself in Hyuck’s car, your dress lost somewhere in the backseat minutes before Hyuck’s seat tipped back, and you climbed over the center console to sit on his face. Sure the position wasn’t the most comfortable but the way he was eating you out, like he’d lose his breath if he stopped, you were far from complaining. His tongue on you makes you see stars to the point you’d almost forget that the same tongue was down a different girl’s throat less than 30 minutes ago. 

“God, Hyuck you’re so good,” You cried, leaning all the way over to stabilize yourself by grabbing onto the headrest of the backseat. The man under you only hummed in response, sucking your clit harder, forcing another loud moan out from you. Before long, you feel your stomach tightening as your climax approaches, and you whimper in warning, Haechan, knowing your body too well, picking up on your cue immediately and diving into your core with an eagerness that has you seeing stars. With no more than a sharp suck at your clit, you’re climaxing with a loud cry, your body jerking before you attempt to curl in on yourself. 

“Fuck, can you ride me baby?” His voice came out strained, you obediently shimmied into Hyuck’s lap, and without thinking twice, you lined yourself up with his cock. He was clearly tired of the lack of attention on him that the second his tip had slid into your pussy he had pushed you all the way down onto him, forcing himself to fill you to the brink.

You cried out in surprise, a small stretch coursing through your body that Hyuck did not give you much time to adjust to. Immediately, he grabbed your hips and began to forcefully raise you up and down the length of his cock. You whined, your body writhing in pleasure and all you could do was keep your face buried in his neck as he forced you up and down on his cock. As much as you hated this situation you had going on with him, moments like this made you realize how hard it would be to let it go. 

Moments where he made you feel wanted. 

Moments where he made you feel desired. 

Those are what always got you coming back into his trap. 

You don’t know why the hell you agreed to it, but here you were, in Donghyuck’s parent’s house for Christmas. As much as you tried to not be in the spotlight, since you were a new face, you happened to be the center of attention tonight and it was overwhelming. And you realize you’re not even sure why he invited you to his family’s Christmas celebration. 

Watching his younger siblings run around you and ask all sorts of questions like “Why are you friends with my brother? You are too pretty for him!” The two gremlins, both resembling Donghyuck to the T, had been jumping all over you the whole night. You could see where Donghyuck got his personality from. His outgoing nature rooted from his father who might have been the life of the party, his everlasting need to argue about little things rooting from his mother, you could tell by the way you watched the two of them squabble all throughout the night. And obviously, all that chaos combined together and graced Donghyuck and his parents with who they call the two gremlins. 

Deciding to go on this trip back to his hometown was not an easy decision, him spending numerous nights convincing you that you’ll love it there. You remember one specific night where he whined and groaned over the phone about you declining the offer, “You’ll love them!” He offered. “Plus, It's not like you’re doing anything else on christmas! You just told me” It was pretty clear he wasn’t about to take no for an answer. And there was no way you could deny his offer at that point so you just sighed and agreed to go along. 

“You know, they like you alot more than I thought they would,” He mused. He’d been quietly observing his family’s every interaction with you and to say he was impressed was an understatement. His family was normally really inviting for all his friends, but this time, it was different?

 What he didn’t expect was his cousin, Beomgyu, to show up. He would be the first to admit that Beomgyu was attractive, there was no denying that. Growing up, Beomgyu would get all the girls and would outshine Donghyuck in all aspects. Which was one of the reasons why Donghyuck loathed him.  

Donghyuck gritted his teeth as he opened the door, “Beomgyu.” 

“Donghyuck.” His cousin smirked, stepping aside to greet the rest of the family. Donghyuck’s entire family was very fond of Beomgyu, they treated him as one of their own though they knew the hatred their actual son had towards him. What he did not expect more than the sudden appearance of his worst enemy was, the worst enemy in question to be flirting with you not even ten minutes into his arrival. But what pissed him off the most was the fact you were flirting back. 

Stupid fucking Beomgyu, always taking what he wants. 

Stupid fucking Beomgyu, always taking what’s his. 

He watched. Watched for so long while you sat at the dinner table and chatted it up with Beomgyu who was spilling compliment after compliment to you. 

hyuck: meet me in the bathroom. 

hyuck: now. 

In an instant, you were dismissing Beomgyu and following Donghyuck down the hall and into the nearest bathroom. 

“What the fuck was that?” He spat, pushing you up against the door. “You think you can just flirt with my fucking cousin?” He took a fistful of your hair, using it to tilt your head up, your lust filled eyes peering up at him innocently. “You don’t get to choose who I flirt with, Donghyuck.” he hated that stupid smirk on your lips, an hour with Beomgyu made you what? A brat? His eyebrows raised, sporting a smirk of his own at your bratty tone. 

“Okay. If you want to be a brat, I have a great way to put them in their place.” His grin was evil. Your own face dropping when he tugs on your hair again. “Tell me huh? You want to be put in your place while my fucking family is right there? Hearing every little noise of yours while I slut you out in this bathroom?” You shook your head no, “No! I swear, I’ll be good. Don’t want your parents to hear us!” You were given nothing but silence, followed by a dark chuckle from Donghyuck himself. 

“Yes, you do,” he teases. You only whined in response. “Like I give a fuck when you were out there moments away from slutting yourself out to that fucker.” He laughed sadistically when your only response was a whimper. 

‘You’re too easy’ He thought. 

“You know that you’re mine, right?” His tone was harsh. You quickly nodded your head ‘yes’, knowing that even a second’s delay would piss him off now. Instead of a direct response, like you wished, all you got was a chuckle and a little “Sure you are,” 

Donghyuck freed his cock from the confines of his pants and you bent forward, resting on your elbows, presenting your ass for him. “What a pretty girl.” He sucks in air, slapping his hand down on your ass. He aligns himself with your wet pussy, your fingers gripping onto the ceramic sink. He fills you completely, arching your back deeper to bury himself all the way inside you. 

“Taking me so well. It’s like you were made for me” he groans, pulling away to admire the way you take his thick cock. “You’re always so good for me, aren’t you, baby?” You moaned in response, thrusting back against him. 

“You wanna prove you’re mine?” 

“Please” 

You heard him shuffle around momentarily before he propped his phone up against the bathroom sink. The camera app was open and it was recording. “Go on,” He emphasized his words with a sharp thrust, “Say that you’re mine” You forced your eyes open and looked directly into the camera. “You’re mine forever, aren't you?” 

“I’m Yours, Donghyuck” You caught a glimpse at your reflection and you looked wrecked. Mascara started to run down your cheeks, hair knotted and a mess from the way he'd been pulling it earlier and your cheeks warm. You knew you couldn’t go back out to his family like this but that was the least of your concerns right now. All you could think of was Donghyuck and how he just hinted at forever. Forever with him.  

“I’m yours forever. All of me is yours, I'm all yours Hyuck.” You watched his smirk grow wider, his hips thrusting into you with far more intensity than before, enough to make your brain go blank. You’d lost all sense of where you were and why. No care in the world for your surroundings had you crying his name out loud. It seemed even he didn't care about how loud you were being because all he did was chuckle and trail his hands down to your core so he could toy with your swollen clit. 

“You’re mine forever? That’s what I like to hear.” He ended the video but the camera remained facing your wrecked figure. The more you stared at yourself, the ruined look on your face,the humiliation and the way he was smirking down at you so desperate to cum, made you closer to your release. And accompanied by Hyuck’s ministrations on your clit, you were cumming in no time, stars blotting your vision as your knees go weak. 

“I’m cumming—fuck—” Haechan grunts. hips pressing into yours as he buries himself deep in you and empties his load. You feel his length twitch inside of you. He gave you both a second to calm down before slowly pulling out, tucking himself back into his pants and helping you fix your clothes back into place. 

You relished in the thought that you’re Donghyuck’s. He’s yours. You hadn’t seen him since that night at his family’s house and you’d spoken to him maybe twice since. He told you he’s gonna be busy with work in the days upcoming so you decided not to bother him. 

Today was his rare day off and he told you he’d stop by to see you but its been three hours since he was supposed to be here and you’re still waiting to see him. He hasn't replied to your texts, answered your calls or even told you he was gonna be running late. You chose to occupy yourself by scrolling through Instagram while you waited. 

Immediately, the first story you saw was Mark’s. He’d posted pictures from a party with the text “crazy night last night”  You smiled to yourself as you clicked through his story, he posted a number of pictures and videos from that night however one specific video caught your attention.

Donghyuck in the back of it, his honey skin glimmering under the light. You watched the video intently, Donghyuck was kissing this girl with the same passion he kissed you with back on Christmas. 

So much for being busy. 

Immediately, you called his phone, surprised when he picked up on the first ring. 

“What is it, Y/N?” He sighed over the phone

“I saw the video, Donghyuck.” 

“Y/N. Remember our rules? We are nothing”

“But I-” You want to say something. Something out of pure rage and heartbreak. 

Before he cuts you off, “I don’t owe you anything, I do” 

“Fuck, all our rules, Hyuck. Fuck them all. All I want is you. In every way possible. Be mine. Please"

“Just– Move on,” And with that, he hung up the phone, leaving you there with a heavy heart and speechless. 

Guess it really was just casual. 

[luvvyouforever]

declan o'hara - nsfw alphabet

ᡣ𐭩 for all my declan lovers (including me) ᡣ𐭩 nsfw content, mdni, 18+ ᡣ𐭩 more declan writing will be coming soon, don't worry! these are easy to fill out and write so hopefully this sates you all mwah

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

his aftercare takes a minute to start. he's usually so intense that the both of you really need a moment to catch your breath and come back down to reality. once he's reverted to normal, he can check in on you, offer a warm cloth, or cold glass of water. when the two of you are physically feeling better, he'll pull you into his big chest, all warm and protected, and probably light a cigarette.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he loves his arms and shoulders. it's not that he really works out and carves them, but he knows he's a big man and flexing them the right way gets you going. he likes being able to encase you in them, holding you as close as possible.

as for you, i think he's an ass man for sureeee. his hands always fly to your cheeks, both in the bedroom and outside of it. his palm covers so much of the skin and he just loves the feeling of squeezing it between his fingers. please wear some tight dresses and pants and bend over directly in front of him.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he wants to cum in you every single time. you might want to consider going on some sort of birth control too just in case. he just loves fucking into you so deep and just as he's finishing, he'll push in to the hilt and fill you up with himself. he could genuinely go for a second round in just a second once he sees the mix of your cum and his seep out of you. gosh, he's dirty.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

has so many fantasies in his head of what he wants to do to you, especially in a more roleplay style too. like he imagines you as his receptionist that he can bend over his desk, hike up your tight pencil skirt, and use you. or he daydreams about coming home to you in the kitchen with a skimpy outfit and apron on and eating you out against the kitchen counter.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he's pretty experienced, but not as much as other characters in the show (hint, hint). like he knows how to make someone feel good and is pretty confident in his skills too! his body count may not be as high, but to him, the quality really matters more than the quantity. and with the way he undos you during sex, you'd certainly agree.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

he loves anything where he can grip and squeeze and smack your ass. he enjoys doggy because it offers him the easiest access to your ass. when he's feeling really intimate and serious, he loves laying you flat on the bed and pushing himself on top of you. makes him feel so close to you, but also enjoys the way your ass can push against his hips.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he's so serious when he has sex. it's all about you and him and everything else fades out. in the lead up, he might be full of some dark chuckles at your neediness or quiet laughter while you're flirting. but once his lips are on yours and his hands are roaming your body, he's replaced with this stoic, dominant declan.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he's not like a jungle, but he certainly doesn't groom himself to the point where he's clean shaven. i mean, look at his chest and his mustache. woof. he probably trims it to a reasonable amount, but doesn't put much effort into it otherwise. it's curly and wavy though, like his hair.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he's much more of a spur of the moment, making out from the front door to the bedroom kinda guy. i don't see him as the man to decorate your bedroom in rose petals. that doesn't mean he isn't intimate and romantic in the act though! he's all about whispering sweet and kind, but also terribly filthy things in your ear while he's unraveling you below him. he makes sure you know just how beautiful he finds you the whole night.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he's not above jerking off, but he knows he'll be coming back to your delicious body every night, so why would he? unless you're gone for a while, or he's off doing stuff for venturer overnight, he'll probably hold off. that isn't to say though that when you might be sending him particularly raunchy texts (for modern declan) or have left him wanting more of you, he won't go into the bathroom and ease the painful bulge beneath his pants. it's just not very common when he'd rather be on you as soon as he steps in the door.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

he's pretty dominant and enjoys taking control in the bed. he wants you to listen to him and give yourself over to him. it's the highest compliment. he loves biting and marking badddd. gets so aroused in the morning when he sees the hickeys he left on your skin from the night before. loves cockwarming on lazy days inside. i don't think he's a full sadist, but really gets off seeing his large red handprint on your ass. he's just possessive and loves making you his every night. also likes being called daddy in the right headspace.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

loves doing it anywhere in the house. not a very public sex person, but if its within the confines of his home, he's on. probably likes the bedroom the most, but for spur of the moment quickies, he likes taking you against the kitchen counter or on the couch or even on the floor by the fireplace after a failed movie night.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

unfortunately, one of his most toxic traits is that arguments and fighting really get him going. if he ever feels threatened by someone else, he'll take it out of them depending on the severity, but then fucks you within an inch of your life, reminding you in a deep voice who you belong to. he's also the type of person to get really turned on seeing you disheveled, or even just with a messy bun and pajamas.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

could never be fully submissive. definitely wouldn't mind handing you some of the reins and letting your hands guide him where you want him, but don't expect him to get on his knees anytime soon and bend to your every will with a "yes ma'am." another turn off is probably being rude or dismissive to his children. like, if he heard that you had made taggie upset someway, he would lose a lot of attraction to you.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

is such a munch, good lord. loves getting so messy with it. isn't very calculated with his movements, but instead dives in passionately with his tongue flat. he comes up for air disheveled, mustache and lips glistening, then goes back in. if you allow him, he'd spend forever down there. as for receiving oral, he loves it. unfortunately though, he has to stop before he cums so he can keep going the rest of the night. he likes to hold your hair tight and control your pace, but will be receptive if you're uncomfortable or in pain.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

majority of the time, he's fast and rough. especially after an argument or while he's jealous. but he can be slow and sensual!! sometimes he's tired or had a bad day or just really really feeling love for you and he wants to take his sweet time unraveling you and showering you in as much love as he can. those moments are just more uncommon than him fucking you with as much passion as he can.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he doesn't mind them, but they're not his favorite. he'd prefer to take his time with you, but sometimes the timing just isn't right and he needs you now. or maybe you're just looking too damn fine and you have the house all to yourself and he lifts you against the kitchen counter. his quickies are rough and needy and sinful. he's grunting as sweat beads along his brow. he finishes inside of you and when he has to go about the rest of the day, he just thinks about you going about your day with him still inside you. freak.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he's down to try things out! like, if you're reading a particularly filthy romance novel and he manages to figure out what about it is enticing to you, he's so willing to try it out himself. there's only a few things that he'll immediately reject, but he loves making things fun in the bedroom for the two of you. honestly, though, he's kind of impatient and doesn't really like doing things by trial and error, so he usually looks into how to make certain things work before trying it for the first time. as for risks, he's down for some things. wouldn't particularly mind risky settings, but he is somewhat of a public personality so there a few things he'll deny if it gets too risky.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he can go for like two to three rounds before he's pretty spent. this number might be a lot bigger if he's one of those bouts where he's pouring himself into his work and doesn't get to devote as much time to his personal life. he can make himself last for a pretty long while. he just has to stop you before cumming because he can get to into the good feeling and before he realizes it, he's finished and now can't give as much of himself to you as he wants.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

i think he's old fashioned in that the best tools are on his body already. i don't think he'd mind if you had a vibrator or something similar to use when he's not there, but he's not going to be reaching for it in the middle of sex. honestly, i feel like he'd see a vibrator as a competition and try to make you finish better than it can. fic idea?

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

i don't think he's that big of a tease tbh. at least not intentionally. if anything, he's more teasing in that his big palm rests on your thigh underneath the dining table and when he enters into some passionate conversation, he subconsciously grips it and you have to bite your lip to suppress your moan. or he's just looking soooo good in that venturer t-shirt talking to everyone and shaking hands and showing off his arms and he has no idea what he's doing to you.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he's such a grunter. and he whispers little "fucks" under his breath. when he gets closer to finishing though, they start morphing into louder groans and when he cums in you, it's like one big crescendo that all comes crashing down. he lovesss hearing the noises he draws out of you though. encourages you to be loud and wants to hear how good he's making you feel.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

probably praises and compliments and talks about you to rupert and freddie all the time. they're all sitting around in a bar drinking and suddenly freddie is asking rupert about cameron and rupert is asking freddie about lizzie and they both turn to declan and ask about you. he gushes about you, then lowers his voice and talks about just how sexy and perfect and wonderful you are. he's got rather loose lips but he'll never reveal the private details. he just wants everyone to know that you are the most perfect person in the whole world and you're all his to enjoy.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he's pretty thick. average length i think, but he makes up for it in the way that he stretches you out. it's a painful pleasure, one that makes you wince at his first entrance, but then makes you throw your head back, eyes rolled in pure bliss once he gets going.

y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

depends on his week, really! sometimes he's so focused on venturer or focused on his next interview that his brain capacity is filled. in times like those, he might need some extra encouragement in the form of you harmlessly flirting with rupert or presenting yourself to him in his study completely naked. if everything has leveled out and he's just having a good week, he could fuck you silly every single night.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

sometimes it can be within minutes if you've gone particularly hard. he falls off you, down to your side where he pulls you into his strong chest and holds you until he starts snoring. sometimes, he might enjoy running his hands along your body, tracing little shapes into them while you're turned on your side, cuddled close to his chest.

need him bad.

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 8 - Jason Fucking Todd

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

Well, look on the bright side of things. You’re not crying right now. That’s nice. You’re not an intern anymore. That’s nice. You struggle to think of anything else. Oh yeah, you’re rich! That’s also nice. You’re not dead. Nice.

This is kind of pathetic. You just feel bummed after having to break up with George a second time. And getting smacked right in the face by him. Which you know, anybody would be, you think. You don’t think a single soul has ever known the George Lancaster Break-Up Special more than once. And you didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to fall for that asshole more than once.

You couldn’t fake a brave face anymore, you just didn’t have the energy for it.

…And let’s not forget almost dying via Joker goon. Not even the man himself, just a random lackey. You think of how he literally disappeared in front of your eyes, and decide you are going to stop thinking. It’s doing you no good anyway.

Instead, you just start walking. Letting your feet and your intimate knowledge of Gotham’s streets, even in this area you don’t often frequent, guide you. You find yourself at the train station. With little consideration, you buy a ticket to the southern part of the city. The bad side of town, the docks, where your apartment used to be.

You feel like a little rat scurrying back into the sewers as you hop on the subway, tucking yourself in between people who don’t recognise you, probably because of your general dishevelment.

Shoulders knocking against strangers, you feel the most at home since this whole disaster started. You stare across the train car, watching a baby babble to its mother. It catches your eye, gives you a big toothless smile, and some snot dribbles into it’s mouth. The mother notices and cleans the baby up with a tissue. When she catches you staring, you give a very awkward but friendly smile, and she smiles back.

A tiny weight lifts off your shoulders. Surrounded by the chaos of Gotham, as the subway exits the tunnels and heads up onto the sky rails, you find yourself warm by the rays of sun through the clouds. The view is beautiful, as it always is. Usually, you’d be looking at your phone, too busy to enjoy the sights. But it really is beautiful.

It’s only when you hear the announcer calling out that you realise you did this for a reason, and dart out of your seat and through the narrowly closing doors. The metal closes behind you with a small hiss. The Docks station, for most people, would be one of the better Gotham train stations. Newly built, and with all the tourist money it was clean. Well, clean as it could get. You’d read some article about the bacteria the rats were carrying being not found anywhere else on earth, and you’d decided to stop reading articles.

Anyway, for you, even the shining marble of the station was a sad sight. Because you only ever came here on your very worst days.

This seemed like one of them.

The familiar streets flit past you, barely something you’re even cognisant of. This part of the city was mostly new, the concrete fresh under your feet instead of littered with potholes. Still, it wasn’t at the centre of the blast radius, so it hadn’t been totally demolished.

No, that was just up ahead. And like everything else in this weird new world, you immediately noticed something different. Where your family had died was… still there, for some reason.

With confusion, exhaustion, and no small bit of despair, you stop in the middle of the pathway outside the remnants of what used to be an old diner and was now just a pile of rocks. Some very charred rocks. Looking at the wreckage, you raise your brows. Its crumbling form is still under construction after all these years. The yellow caution tape is only a deterrence to you because you don’t want to end up on the gossip reels for a second time today. Looking around, you find yourself further confused. Lots of other parts of the pier had been redeveloped, but this piece of the puzzle still lay bare.

It didn’t, in your home, your world. It had been replaced with high-rise apartments, and since they were so close to the water, so pretty and new, you had no hope of affording them. It probably wouldn’t be very good for your mental health even if you could. Still, you’d taken many walks past the street. Enjoyed the little bit of dirty white concrete that had survived. You and your siblings had signed your names into it, and you’d stroked the sidewalk like the weirdo you were many times.

Like you did today. And today, for some reason, the rest of it was here. Untouched. A remnant of the disaster. As you run your thumb along the sharp edge of Julie’s J, you find yourself once again lost in your memories. They were like honey traps to you these days.

The mum-and-pops diner had been run by your uncle. It’d been in the family for three generations, and he was incorrigibly proud of it. You’d all had your birthday parties there, because it was free and you were poor. It wasn’t like your uncle would let you pay for the food anyway, it was just one of the few times Mum could stand the generosity. She didn’t like it when you had disappointing birthdays, and no matter how much you tried to fake your happiness, she could always see to your core. Eventually, you and your siblings all gave up on trying.

You were late. You were often late, but this time it was… it was the difference between life and death. If you’d been a few blocks further, a little bit earlier, you’d probably be dead too. Or at least have some serious hearing loss instead of just suffering mild tinnitus.

You had felt more than seen the destruction. The earth had rumbled, and a deafening roar had swept through the streets. You remember falling to your knees, the worry about being late morphing to worry for your best clothes to a true terror when you realised where the blast had come from.

When you realised your family was in the epicentre.

You sometimes wish you were on time that day. That you’d gotten to see them all, even if you went with them. It didn’t sound so bad, really. At least you wouldn’t be alone. Hmm, you should probably stop thinking like that. Or maybe go to a therapist about it.

Not that you could afford it. Oh, right. Rich now. That was really taking some getting used to.

You wonder if people who won the lottery felt the same way. Probably not, because the rest of the world reflected the changes the person felt. They’d have to go pick up the check, go to the bank, and if they let their family and friends know, deal with the consequences of that.

You’d just woken up rich. No time to adjust, your new life was here and it was demanding your attention very loudly. And soup-ly, unfortunately. After a few minutes of staring blankly at the rubble, you look towards your left, where you know the Memorial awaits you. It’s in the centre of the new shopping district, built on top of the bombed parts of Gotham. It sits right next to the water, the cold breeze a comfort that you’d turned to on more than one occasion.

You’d feel bad if you didn’t change your clothes. You told Grayson you would, and you already felt bad enough about... everything to do with him. You suppose he was your brother. Your ex-brother. Ex-step-brother. The ex-step-brother of a woman who you weren’t.

Really, he was just a stranger. It seemed he didn’t feel that way, though.

You start the walk towards the shopping district, and into the first clothes store you see. The prices on the tags would usually make you flinch, but well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing seems to matter. Your survival is now guaranteed, might as well wear some clothes that feel nice on your skin.

You walk out of that store looking like you just robbed it. Even the clerk had given you a weird look but accepted the black card tucked in your phone without much complaint. It’s an improvement if a small one.

Once you’re done, like a moth to a flame, you drift towards the Memorial centre. You’re following all the steps you used to in the past, but somehow, it all feels a bit alien. The world looks a little different, a little uncomfortable. Your shoes are worn in, and yet they still feel too tight.

Uncanny valley. You feel unwelcomed here, unwanted. Like the very earth can tell that there’s something wrong in this scene, some intruder. You ignore the feeling as best you can.

The Memorial is just as unfamiliar as the diner was, maybe even more. You know that your mother was a Wayne before she died. You know that. But still seeing your family’s framed photos, right alongside Jason's is so shocking you nearly jump. It takes a moment of wide-eyed staring before you can manage to get past that. When you do, for some reason you still go back to your old habits. You walk by them, the bouquets and to where their names used to be in thin letters.

You count with your fingers, finding the fifty-second line.

A man’s name replaces the spot where your mother’s is. The little grooves the oil in your fingers had left behind were gone, and instead was sharp stone like when the monument was first erected. It cuts at your fingers. It no longer welcomes your touch.

James Whitaker. That’s the name of the man who took their spot.

You can already feel a rising obsession with the random dead man. If you were going to psycho-analyse yourself, you’d recognise that you didn’t feel that the images of the Waynes you’d created were no longer real, no longer safe to your escapist mindset. You’d realise, that this was all pretty unhealthy, and you really, really needed therapy.

Instead, you give the guy your condolences and start reading the other plinths. They seem largely the same. It’s not like you hadn’t read all of these towers of stone at one point or another, your eyes glazing over the many, many names. So much devastation, all in one moment.

And still, this was not even a tenth of all the lives the Joker had taken. You kinda wanna go take a kick at one of the Bat signals littered around the city. Maybe that’d make you less… broiling with incompetent rage.

Again, maybe you should just go to therapy. You should call Jeanine about that or something.

Eventually, you circle back to your family and Jason’s shrines. You know, back then you’d been jealous that Jason Todd had been so well mourned. You’d wished your family had gotten the same treatment.

Now, you… felt jealous again. Possessive, over their memory, their image. You didn’t really like that random strangers that never knew them… knew them. That Sam always got As in English and Art class but would sometimes skip math and would hide in the bathrooms to do so. That Chasey had struggled with going to school because of her anxiety but kept going because she had a friend going through the exact same thing. That Julie was the ace of her school’s soccer team, and that she’d almost gotten them to nationals even in the presence of all the super-rich schools in Gotham. That your Mum was a great cook but genuinely hated doing it, but for some reason, baking was her favourite thing even as she had never made a proper macaron.

They didn’t know them. They knew their faces and a facsimile of them, but they didn’t know them. It reminded you of the people at the orphanage. Nice, but not kind. They’d had their own lives, they didn’t want some bratty, demented teenager who was going down and planning on taking everyone with her.

You really couldn’t be happy, could you? Maybe you didn’t know what you wanted. What you want now. What you’d wanted for a while, actually.

Ugh. You close your eyes and let out a deep, soul-shaking sigh. It takes a moment for you to shore up the willpower to open them again. Come on, flower shop, finish your weird little ritual then you can go home and hide for the next millenia.

The walk there is the same as always, if a little more morose. It’s in a good spot, near the church just a block away and the memorial on its other side, as well as less sombre atmospheres down near the pier. Well, as little sombre as Gotham can manage.

You feel like you blink and you’re there. Too quickly, you find a rainbow of blooms in front of you, the scent of the blossoms washing over you. When you walk into the flower shop, the bell at the door rings the same as it always does. On autopilot, you walk over to the small, cheaper buds. Your hand clenches around the crinkly wrapping paper, a bundle of posies in your hand. You go to the counter with your prize in hand.

Larissa, the counter worker, smiles at you. Your breath hitches. It’s a working smile, not one of the real, toothy ones she used to give you.

“Oh wow, I thought all the posies had sold out. Lucky you!”

You think of something to say, but the moment passes and you don’t. She rings you up, tells you the price, and when you pay, asks sweetly if you want a receipt.

She doesn’t say your name. Doesn’t acknowledge how you come here every week and buy this same handful of flowers. She doesn’t ask about your job or the weather. She doesn’t cheerfully tell you about how her apprenticeship is going, or about the next sweet thing her partner has done. No, she just stares at you, growing more uncomfortable the longer it takes for you to answer.

She doesn’t even seem to recognise this other version of you. It feels like another string that tied you down to the earth has been snipped. You have an image in your head of a child losing a balloon, desperately grasping at the air. You’re going to float up into the atmosphere, and then you’re going to pop.

You can see the foil glinting in the sun’s light, so, so clearly.

You squeeze your eyes shut, “Yes, a receipt, please.”

Taking it blindly, you barely flutter your eyes open as you walk out of the shop. She didn’t know you, didn’t remember you. That doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. You hadn’t really known her. It doesn’t matter. There’s no real difference, it doesn’t matter.

It’s okay, it’s okay, it never really mattered. You keep telling yourself this as you walk back over to the memorial. As you lay your flowers down with the others, the little posies are dwarfed by the other donations. It didn’t matter. You didn’t know her. None of this matters. Their flowers don’t matter.

You don’t matter. You hit that errant thought with a mental fly swatter.

Exhausted, you sit down next to the monument. You used to be able to lay your head on the stone, able to feel your family in the warmth it had absorbed in the sun. Now you just sort of, awkwardly reached out to the small bit of uncovered plinth at the side. You have to stick your hand through a wreath to do so.

It’s not warm. You wonder if your family are sad. And then you wonder if you’re an idiot for attributing feelings to a literal rock.

After a while, you get up. Cross your arms. You stare at your family's portraits, eyes moving over their smiles. One by one. You recognise some of the photographs, those are your favourites. A smile cracks across your face when you see the picture of when Chasey lost her two front teeth. She still grins cheekily at the camera, uncaring for any changes to her appearance, as all kids shouldn’t.

Your shoulders fall just the slightest bit when you see the picture of Jason Todd. It’s one of his older pictures. Probably seventeen or something. He’d always been a lovely boy when he was younger. And he still was up till he died but you’d always thought you’d seen something start to change in him. That sparkle of innocence, dulled, just the slightest.

And then he’d died. And you’d wondered if maybe he’d felt it was coming.

You certainly hadn’t. It had been like a hurricane tearing through your life. You’d ended up on the other side completely abandoned, the only friend who’d bothered to keep seeing you being one who’d learnt to dodge train ticket costs like a damn ninja. And you’d had to decide whether you could keep doing this, whether you even wanted to.

You were an obsessive creature by nurture. It had been all you could do to hang onto the Waynes, pretend they would love and care for you even if they’d have never even noticed you in real life. You weren’t sure that was strength or simple human survival. Dying was scary. Of course, you were scared of dying.

Your whole family had died. So, you told yourself, that Jason Fucking Todd would be sad if you killed yourself, and somehow, you had made it all these years.

And now here you were, and the Waynes did notice you in real life. You were important to them. You didn’t want to be, but you were. And again, you have to ask yourself, what would Jason Todd ask of you? What would he want you to do now, in this impossible situation you’ve found yourself in?

You stare at the picture. Stare at the way the sun hits his dark hair and blue eyes. Stare very, very hard. Like he might crawl out and give you a detailed list of what to do. You’d really like a detailed list. Or any guidance at all. Maybe you could go hit up a seance or something.

Your head falls forward into your sun-warmed palms. This is so stupid. No answers are going to fall from the sky, you need to find them yourself. And you’re not going to find them here.

Someone walks up beside you to the old memorial, and you quickly tuck yourself back into an acceptable image. Fold in all the rough edges you can. A tall and well-built man, with a face mask, sunglasses and a trucker hat, he looks like he could be a celebrity or something. Someone important, much more than you.

And you weren’t, not technically, at least. The universe had done the equivalent of a shelving error, and now here you goddamn were.

He does an odd pose next to you, something military-esque, where he clasps his hands together and bows his head. With a quick flick of your eyes you confirm, yes, his feet are equal with his shoulders. It’s obvious that he’s paying his respects so you do your best not to judge him too hard.

And then he speaks to you.

“I’m sorry.”

You look up, startled and confused.

“For your loss,” the deep voice finishes, jerking his head toward the pictures in front of the two of you.

“Wha- oh uh, um,” you blink and then realise that this person has recognised you, which would make sense since you are literally in one of the photos in front of you, and manage to pull your fading conscious mind back together for a moment more.

“Thank you, uh-” you stare at him a moment longer, “You too?”

Almost worse than that time you told the barista who gave you your coffee you hoped she enjoyed hers too, but not quite. Well, you know, he’d probably lost someone here too. You don’t know why he’d be here otherwise unless he wanted an autograph or something. The thought almost makes you laugh.

He snorts at your words. You don’t know what to make of that.

He looks back down at the pictures and flowers. You think he does, at least, from the slight shifting of his head. He’s kind of mysterious. Pair that with the deep voice, the muscular and tall physique, and you’re an odd mix of attracted and socially anxious. Not that you’re not always socially anxious, but this guy feels… strong. Dumb again, you can see his biceps from here but…

You just can’t quite shake it off. Strong. Strong.

“They didn’t deserve it, none of them did,” he speaks again, and you wonder what the fuck he’s going on about at all.

You admit, you sound a little bitter when you mutter, “Well, that’s obvious.”

He lets out a bark of laughter, and you see his eyes flash to you from under his sunglasses. A shade of blue. There’s another odd pause, and then he turns to you. You don’t know why he’s looking at you. He crosses his arms, and seems to size you up.

“What are you doing here?” he asks you like he knows you.

Your brow furrows. Okay, kind of losing any hotness points here. Bothering someone who was grieving could’ve been seen as rude from the very start, but you’d just thought he was weird. Now, you thought he was weird and rude.

“…Paying my respects. Obviously,” you gesture downwards, “My mother, my siblings, and…”

Well, how would you describe the relationship between you and Jason Todd now? He was still just a stranger to you and-

“With who, that guy?”

Now, it isn’t often that you’re stunned into silence, but at the moment you can’t find it in you to do anything but stare and gape. Frankly, you’re astonished! You’ve never met anyone who spoke so rudely of the dead, and well, he couldn’t have picked a worse person to do it in front of.

“Excuse me?” your voice can’t seem to convey even half of your offence, even as you sound like you’re about ready to bite a second person for today. The man pauses like you’ve surprised him, which- what the fuck is going on? Why do you feel like an alien crash-landed on Earth these days?

“No, I just meant-” he huffs, shakes his head, and continues, his voice now offended too, “What the fuck am I saying? Yes, I did mean that. That little twerp was a naive idiot who was manipulated by the people he believed in most.”

You stare, absolutely speechless, as the stranger goes on a damn-fucking-near crazed rant about one of the people most important to you. Never met? Sure. Dead as hell? Absolutely. But still, he was one of your lifelines. Your candlelight in the dark, guiding your way even when you felt completely lost. And now he’s calling him a naive idiot? You can practically feel the steam coming out of your ears.

“He changed nothing, made no difference in the end-”

“Nothing?!” you practically shriek, finally able to find your voice just to use it to shout, “He changed… so much! He donated millions of dollars, did heaps of charity work, was practically a treasure to our city… He made multiple homeless shelters, an orphanage, helped rehabilitate criminals and countless other things.”

Your fists are clenched tight enough that they shake. You hide them behind your back, but you still feel like he can probably see them. Your emotions are simmering too close to the surface, bubbling over and onto the floor. About to burn his sneakers to ash.

“You seem like you care a lot,” he says, sounding reserved.

“Of course, I care.”

“…It’s just, you didn’t seem the type, on the TV,” he keeps talking, poking at you for some god-awful reason, and you bark out a harsh laugh.

“Maybe people need to stop making so many fucking assumptions, then? It certainly hasn’t gotten you anywhere,” you throw your hands up, damn sick of all the constant fucking surveillance you’re under. You can see why this version of you lost her mind. You’re near about to as well.

He stares at you for a moment longer, and you start feeling too uncomfortable. It’s a stupid and useless protectiveness that has you staying. Like he’ll somehow try and harm the shrine to your people. It’s happened before, Joker fanboys defacing it and such. This guy could be one of those bastards.

And yet… somehow you feel…

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he finally says.

“Good, you do that.”

“But in the end, nothing’s really changed. Joker’s still out and about, as you well know.”

You physically flinch like you’ve been slapped. For a good minute there, all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. You raise one shaking fist, and lift one trembling finger, pointing. The man looks in the direction you’ve pointed, and when he doesn’t see anything, turns back to you. His sunglasses reflect the grey afternoon sun.

“Go,” you order, voice shaking just like the rest of you.

He just keeps staring at you. You wish he’d take off those dumb fucking glasses, so you could see this asshole’s face. Etch it into your mind. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t take any action. He simply waits for you to… Well, you don’t know what you’ll do. You haven’t known what you’d do since you left Dick behind two hours ago.

“You need to go,” you say again, and again, he doesn’t fucking move, “You… there’s… you have no right.”

You can hear the buzz of the city around you, the wind rushing by. His clothes rustle in the wind. Your voice sounds too loud in your ears, but he won’t just… he won’t leave. You don’t want this stranger here, watching you. Judging you. It’s all…

“Jason didn’t do anything wrong,” you say, and you think to yourself, desperately, ‘I didn’t do anything wrong.’

There’s a slight shift in the stranger’s posture. His shoulders tensed.

You think you’ve offended him.

“The Joker… That’s nobody's fault but the government for not just sucking it up and giving him the death penalty, or Batman’s for not doing it himself a long time ago. They’re all fucking useless, but they’re the ones who are supposed to be dealing with this!” you continue, your words growing more heated. It’s only the already looming threat of an assault case that keeps you from shoving the guy. Not like you’d be able to move him an inch, of course, he was huge.

You’re sure it would feel good, though.

“It was never some random teenager's responsibility, and it wasn't mine either,” you say, but find yourself pausing for a moment when you hear the end of your sentence. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like it wasn’t obvious anyway.

You’d tied yourself and Jason up together in your head. To you, you were both two sides of the same coin. One foot in the grave. You’ve got one foot in the grave…

“Jason Todd was a good person, and he made the world a better place.”

You look down at the portrait of the boy, his toothy smile twisting at your heart. None of this was fair. None of this had ever been fair. Why was this guy acting like anybody here had ever been able to do anything about it? Like Jason should’ve been smarter, and avoided a fucking bomb blast?

It was stupid. This was stupid, and you were over it. You were tired.

“And I miss him.”

It’s quiet after you say that.

“I don’t know how you can think it’s fair to act like his death was pointless when… of course it was, all of this was pointless,” you say, throwing your hands wide and gesturing to the entire memorial. “This was a tragedy, but Jason was a victim. And I’m sick of people like you who think they can decide whether someone else’s life was lived right. It’s not your damn right.”

“Now… fuck off!” you announce, and to your shock, he does. He fucks right off. The man gives you one last lingering look, and then turns and leaves without another word. Not like you needed them.

You huff out a shocked breath, and then turn back to the memorial.

The framed faces of your loved ones stare back at you, and for all you know it’s stupid, you can’t help but feel embarrassed for the display. You know your mother would’ve scolded you for your language, at least.

“Sorry,” you say, and you’re unfortunately reminded of that irritating man again. Likely that won’t be the first time he pops up again in your head. He seemed well, insane. Which wasn’t that odd in Gotham but… god, you just couldn’t seem to let it go.

It pissed you off to high heaven. His rudeness was something you’d usually be able to shrug off, especially from some random stranger, but, but, but-! Argh, damn it all. And it wasn’t like that was the first time you had had that sort of conversation, but it was certainly the first time someone had been so bold as to bring it up in front of your dead mother’s smiling face.

Earlier today had snuffed out the fire in you, but that encounter had been the spark to reignite it. More than that, actually. It had made you so damn pissed, made your blood boil in a way you just couldn’t ignore, to the point that you wanted to prove him wrong.

Jason Todd had mattered and had made a difference and change in Gotham. He had made a change in you. You put your hands on your hips, stare down at the flowers, and make a decision.

You’re going to fix your goddamn life. For Jason Fucking Todd.

Your body feels like shit, your brain feels like it’s stuffed with cotton wool, and yet this is the greatest opportunity you’ve ever been given. You have a chance to save yourself, and save your friends, and fix all the tiny little problems in Gotham that you’ve suffered through since childhood. Surely just throwing enough money at all your problems would fix some of them.

You were rich. If you couldn’t fix your life with millions of dollars available, then you had no chance.

And yeah, you don’t know what you’re doing. You know you can’t really change what happened. Back then or even just a few days ago. But you hate that. You hate it so much. You hate how weak you are in the face of loss. How both then and now, there’s nothing you can really do. And maybe if just out of spite, towards that asshat, Batman, Joker and everyone else, you want to make a change.

You want to be able to do something about it. You want it, so fucking bad.

First order of business?

…You want more flowers.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[gurugirl]

SHE LIKES TO WATCH | HOTHUSBAND!HARRY

Summary: Harry and his wife have an interesting lifestyle but when they invite you over for a night of fun you realize you're more into it than you thought you'd be.

Word Count: 4,817

Warning: smut, cucking (sort of - minus degradation), hothusbanding, sharing of a partner, size kink, watching a partner have sex with someone else.

Main Masterlist | send me an ask!

. . .

Harry and Vana always threw wild parties. You’d known the Styles’ for a while and nearly every month since you’d met them they had big get-togethers that sometimes turned a little chaotic. For example, sometimes a friend would stay over with them and you wondered (others wondered too) if Harry and Vana had that friend over to play with for a threesome.

Harry and Vana were an interesting couple. You weren’t sure what to make of it. You liked them both. Harry flirted with everyone. Men and women alike. And sometimes you noted his flirtations were not so innocent. But Vana never seemed to mind. Which was confusing because you certainly wouldn't want your husband or partner to be grinding on someone else, running his fingers through their hair, whispering into their ear.

One of your friends said he thought they were swingers. An acquaintance said that his wife was a cuckquean (which was something you had to look up because you’d never heard of that before). But you didn’t know for sure because it wasn’t your business.

And that night Harry had his sights on you. He’d flirted with you before, kissed your hand once, and gave you one of those goodbye hugs that was overtly intimate and had you feeling all jittery and gooey. But this time was different. He kept talking to you closely, brushing his hand over your arm, your fingers, and your back, complimenting you. Grabbed your hip when you were dancing…

Harry ran his hand over the back of your neck and spoke into your ear, “Would you mind if I kissed you?”

You breathed out in disbelief as you eyed his wife just as she passed into the kitchen.

You were shocked! You turned to him with your eyes wide and fuck if he wasn’t so goddamn attractive you’d have slapped him across the face. Even if part of you really loved how he was touching you and the way he was staring at you all night but you just couldn’t stomach the thought of kissing a married man.

That had been your limit. You turned on your heel and walked up to his pretty wife as she cleaned the kitchen after half of their guests had gone home. You were going to end this nonsense once and for all.

“Your husband just asked if he could kiss me.” You stood back to look at her face and assess her reaction but she just smiled gently and pulled at your fingertips, “Did you want to kiss him?”

Your mouth dropped open and you looked behind yourself, Harry already standing there looking innocent, and then back to his wife, “What do you mean? He’s your husband! I just wanted to let you know he’s been flirting with me and that’s–“

“Oh, you’re cute,” Vana cooed and then looked over your shoulder at her husband, “She’s worried I’d get mad.”

Blinking your eyes in confusion you felt Harry’s hands on your shoulders and then his warm breath on the back of your ear, “She likes to watch and listen, Y/n. She wants to see what you and I would look like together. If you’re into it. Just a kiss. Doesn’t have to mean anything.”

It took a bit for your brain to wrap itself around his words and let them sink in. But when they did… boy were you feeling some kind of way. It wasn’t something you could quite put into words but it had you feeling spacy and hot.

But that’s how you found out that Vana and Harry were into sharing or hothusbanding. Another thing you’d never heard of. Hotwifing you’d heard of thanks to raunchy porn suggestions on your Twitter feed you never asked for. Vana liked watching her husband fuck other women or knowing he had fucked other women. You never were too wild or kinky with any of the people you slept with. Sharing had never been on your radar of limited interests and kinks. Until the Styles introduced you to it.

It started off with kissing Harry in front of his wife that first night. You let yourself get wrapped in his arms as he softly worked his lips against yours and then he pressed you into the kitchen counter and you felt the thud of his heart under your palm as you pressed your hand into his chest.

And it excited you. It felt so strange to have someone watching you but also… so thrilling.

“If you want to do this with us let me know. We’ve got next Friday night free.” Harry told you as he walked you out to your car before kissing you again. His wife watched from the door.

You nearly chickened out too. It was a lot. You didn’t know if you’d really be into it once things started to get heated. But Harry and Vana assured you they’d only go as far as you wanted. If you wanted. There was no pressure. But it was clear they wanted you.

So you obliged and showed up at their house that Friday all fresh and nervous.

Vana greeted you with a hug. She was wearing a loose-fitted t-shirt and bike shorts. “I’m glad you came.”

The two of you sat down at their kitchen table and Vana made small talk, which helped calm you a bit. It felt like you were just friends having a normal chat. Until Harry walked in. He was wearing jeans and a cream sweater, sleeves bunched up to his elbows, and his hair looked like he’d already had sex. He kept his gaze on you as he sat down next to Vana and she looked at her husband with a grin.

“How are you feeling?” Harry’s first words to you that night.

“I’m okay. Kind of nervous. We’ll see, ya know?” You laughed.

Harry nodded and moved a big hand up to the back of Vana’s neck, “Okay. We’ll take it one step at a time. See if you like being watched. Vana’s ready to share me with you so you don’t need to worry about her. We’ve been through all this before. Have had a few others come around. We don’t typically keep anyone long-term but have no problems being friends after. Some get jealous or can’t handle that I’m loyal to Vana first and foremost. She’s my wife so she has the final say over everything.”

You nodded as you listened to Harry spell out the details and ground rules. Vana was the one that got them into the “scene” in the first place. He didn’t share the nitty gritty with you but there was a medical problem that made it so that Vana didn’t enjoy having sex as often as they once did. And even before her issue, she’d always pushed for having threesomes with other women and would often wind up watching in fascination.

“It’s just something we’ve both come to really like,” Harry spoke, his fingers still gently running up and down the nape of Vana’s neck.

“And it’s one of the only things that turns me on. Watching him with someone else. Or knowing he’s with someone else. Sometimes he meets people outside of the house and comes back to me with pictures or videos. It makes me feel human when I get aroused. It’s like I need to watch him making someone else feel like that and it’s… I can’t explain it really but I do get this surge of lusty jealousy? But it’s not jealousy like with anger. Just something that’s welcome in a way.”

Vana explained it’s almost like cucking but without the degradation (she didn’t like being degraded or disrespected) because she liked watching but also enjoyed picking the person and having some element of control.

Harry reached across the table and moved his fingers over your knuckles, “You still want to go through with it?”

Nodding you let out a breath, “I think so. Yeah.”

You were sure you were insane for it but you were intrigued.

He pulled away and stood up from his chair, “Let’s go into the master bedroom. We’ll get comfortable in there together and see what happens.”

You followed Harry into the bedroom, Vana behind you. The bed took up a good deal of space. A soft armchair was in the corner of the room facing the bed. You didn’t know exactly what to expect but you assumed Harry’s wife would be sitting there.

Harry gestured toward the bed, “You can stay dressed if you like or take your clothes off. Just do what’s comfortable.”

You opted to stay dressed. Until you were sure things were happening.

Harry moved in next to you on the bed, your feet dangling off the side as Vana sat in the chair and crossed her legs.

“I can stand outside of the door for a bit while you get started if it makes you feel better,” she offered, “I like listening just as much as watching.”

You shook your head, “I don’t think… I mean, it’s fine like this. I think.”

Harry laughed and placed a hand on your thigh, “That’s all right. If you change your mind just say so.”

You looked into Harry’s dazzling green eyes as he smoothed his palm over your leg and up to your hip, “You’re so pretty, Y/n. I’ve thought so since the first time I met you. Vana told me I should hook up with you months ago but I wasn’t sure you’d be right for it.”

You licked your lips and moved your gaze to his mouth as he spoke, “But I think you’ll be perfect for this now that I’ve gotten to know you a bit.”

You could feel your heart rate pick up as he leaned in closer, his hand on your hip, “Can I kiss you?”

A quick nod yes and you were enveloped by him in an instant. Like he was waiting for the yes to attack.

His hot mouth smeared against yours and made you woozy. Hands pushing you further into the bed and whispers against your lips that you were sure only you could hear.

“You’re gonna feel so good… so sweet for me… she’s gonna love watching how good I make you feel…”

You were getting dizzy as you let your tongue swirl against his and you smoothed your hand under his sweater to feel the steamy skin of his chest.

And as his lips pressed between yours, you felt the virile muscle and hair on his chest when his sweater rose up. He pulled it off and your eyes didn’t know where to look first. Dark inky designs on his chest and arms, muscled pecs and abs, warm skin…

You felt his hands on the bottom hem of your shirt, lifting, as he pressed his lips against yours again.

You wanted to get out of your clothes. Wanted to see more of him and find out what would come next. You didn’t know if you’d go all the way but in that moment, you were fine with wherever the night took you. The switch had happened so fast. From being unsure if you wanted any clothes off to needing to rid yourself of all the layers so you could feel his hands on your skin.

Harry’s mouth and his moans were like an aphrodisiac. He kissed you like he needed his mouth on your skin for air. You helped him tug your shirt off when his lips drew down your neck and he caged you in by your hips, “Got me so hard, Y/n. This fucking body… Want to eat you alive…”

You moaned and lifted your hips as he traced his mouth down your skin until he was stopped by your waistband. Lifting his gaze up to yours you moved your hand to the button of your jeans and unplucked it, “You can take them off.”

A low moan, that sounded similar to a growl fell from his chest as he worked your jeans down your legs and then you felt his big palms smooth up your shins, to your knees, and then your thighs before he dipped back down to finish bringing his lips over your hips and to the elastic band of your panties.

It was soft kisses over your skin and then to the insides of your thighs as he pushed your legs apart just enough to fit his face between them.

Pushing yourself up to get a better look your eyes came into contact with Vana’s. She was watching the whole thing from her chair, lips parted, and eyes dark on yours.

Your attention was pulled back to Harry when you felt his tongue trail up the inside of your thigh to the crotch of your panties. The overgrown stubble on his face scratched at your soft skin as he ran his tongue up each side and nuzzled into your crotch.

When he looked up at you with his seafoam eyes and raspberry lips you stuffed your fingers into his hair, just so you could feel it between your fingers.

“Can I eat you out, Y/n? Smells so good.”

You nodded and immediately his fingers were looping into the waistband of your thong and he tugged them down your legs and off in haste.

You gasped at how quickly he rid you of your last item of clothing but as soon as you felt his mouth connect with your cunt you dropped your back into the mattress and gurgled a loud moan.

He slid his lips and tongue over you slowly, unscrewing the last bit of tension and doubt you had about having someone watch. Having his wife watch. In fact, there was something so illicit and so titillating about having Vana there.

He’d bracketed you in with his arms to keep you still as his tongue and mouth worked you into a frenzy. Wiggling, whining, wet. You couldn’t help the sounds coming from your throat or the way your fingers pulled at his brown hair.

But the sound of your pussy being eaten right in front of his wife just made everything far hotter than it might have been if you two were alone.

“Oh fuck! Oh… sssshhit!” You panted.

Harry moaned against your clit and then he slid an arm away from one of your thighs and you felt the slow stroking of his fingertips running up and down your drenched pussylips.

And like it was second nature, you rolled down against his fingers and pressed the tip of his digits inside to feel it.

It was a signal you wanted more. So Harry obliged, dipping his fingers inside of you through to his knuckles before he began fingering your pussy in a steady, seductive pace.

You wondered how many women he’d done it to. How many he had finger fucked and eaten out right in front of his wife. Wondered how many he’d fucked with his cock. Whatever that number, he was good. Really fucking good.

And you were tipped over the edge when he slurped and flicked his tongue over your puffy bud and pumped his long fingers inside of you to coax your orgasm out of you. You had your mouth opened wide, desperate moans falling from your throat as your body relented to Harry’s fingers and his lips as you came.

“Can’t even speak it’s so good, huh? Only giving me those pretty moans. Listen to her Vana. She’s fucking crying…”

You could hardly react to his words other than to whimper as you began to settle and eventually melt, his fingers slowly pulsing inside of you until he ran his thumb over your sensitive clit and you pressed your thighs together quickly and rolled to the side, his fingers sliding out of you.

“Got my hand and face soaked, Y/n. Who knew you were such a messy thing? Knew you’d love this…” you felt his hand on your hip, pulling you back toward him.

Your chest heaved as you pushed yourself up, still floaty and ears stuffed with cotton as you looked from Harry to his wife, a shy smile on your face.

“How do you feel?” Vana spoke.

Nodding you caught your breath, “That was… yeah. Very good. Still tingly…” you laughed.

Vana grinned widely, “Good. That’s what we want. You’re really pretty with Harry’s mouth on you. Even I’m all wet now after watching that.”

“And you’re still okay too?” You asked her, just to be sure.

“More than okay. I’d love to see how you two look having sex, though. If you’re up for it.”

You looked at Harry who had his brows raised at you, waiting for your answer. A nod and a small laugh puffed from your lips, “Okay.”

Harry began to unbutton his pants, moving from the bed to stand to get them down his legs. He watched you closely as he palmed at his hard cock, the prominent bump at the front indicating you were going to be in for a nice treat.

Vana stood up and tugged at Harry’s boxer briefs and you noticed she was holding a condom, “Wish you didn’t have to use this. One day I want to see you creampie a pretty girl for me.”

Harry grabbed his wife by the front of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss and you watched their tongues clash together before he let go and Vana returned to her seat, tucking her legs underneath herself.

You didn’t mean to be dramatic but when Harry’s briefs were discarded to the floor you gasped and sat up, eyes focused on the meaty, swollen organ that hung heavy and thick.

Dimples scored into his cheeks as he placed the condom over himself and Vana laughed, “It’s nice, isn’t it? Everyone reacts like that when they see it. Women love his cock. You’ll feel every bit of that inside of you too.”

You swallowed as Harry got back onto the bed next to you and pulled you down to your side, his lips pressed to yours. You felt his hand grip at your thigh and drag it over his hip, pulling you close against him so you could feel his cock nudging against you and then drag through your labia.

It was slow and sweet, the kiss. But if anyone else were to peer into that room they’d disagree. It was filthy and debauched. You were lying with a married man as his cock slid against you and his wife watched from her chair in the corner.

“You want me to fuck you, Y/n. Make you come on my cock while Vana watches?”

You moaned into his mouth, “Yes. Fuck me.”

He smiled against your lips and gripped your thigh tight before he pushed you flat and he was suddenly over you, thighs against yours as you spread your legs and he pressed his tip into you before pulling all the way out, “You sure?”

Nodding you moaned, “Yeah.”

He smirked, raising his head to look at his wife as he finally dipped back in, slowly pushing through your walls and moaning with every inch he fed you. You kept your eyes on his chest and his jaw as he watched Vana’s face. Like he needed to imagine it was her he was tucking himself into.

And it was a salacious, pleasing stretch. When his hips pressed into yours and he dragged himself back and then plunged in again you moaned at the way he filled you and filled you again. He thrusted in and in and then you let out a cracked moan and finally, he looked back down at you, the girl he was actually fucking.

He sucked in through his teeth as he let his pupils examine your face and then your breasts and tummy and then the obscene view of his cock submerging into you, “Look at you taking it so well. Looks like that barely fits but sounds like you like it, Y/n.”

You nodded and inhaled sharply, “Fuck… yes!”

Your mind was swirling and ebbing with thoughts between how good Harry felt ramming into you, how hot it was to have his wife watching, to wondering if you’d recover from this and be able to move on after. You could tend to be attached quickly and sex wasn’t something casual for you normally.

But then Harry’s hand smoothed over your nipple and he grasped your breast softly in his palm with his mouth parted and you could see how much he was enjoying you. How he liked the way you felt under him. You could hear the sound of Vana moaning but you couldn’t take your eyes off Harry’s face as he began to force himself in deeper, harder, faster. His abs clenched and his chest flushed as he fucked you into the mattress. The mattress he and his wife slept on together… you all but forgot any worries you had because your brain was mushy peas as he drove into your pussy; it seemed to wipe out all pertinent thoughts other than that you were getting railed and it felt like heaven.

“She’s so wet for your cock, Harry. How does it feel inside of her?” Vana cooed.

Harry grunted and slowed his rutting hips as he sat back, keeping you flush against his hips as he grabbed onto your thighs and pulled you with him. Your back was arched over his thighs as he kept plunging himself in, “She’s so tight and warm, Vana. Her body looks so hot getting fucked too. Looks so good with my cock inside of her like this, her perfect pussy is just sucking me in. She needs to come so bad.”

You gasped when his thumb slid against your aching clit. Harry’s eyes were on yours when you focused back in on his face, “Look how pretty she is on my cock. I knew she would be. So sensitive too,” he gritted.

“Mmm… god that looks like it feels so good. So fucking jealous she can feel you like this, Harry. Make her come. I want to see her face. See how much she loves it.”

You were conscious but you were so far gone. All your body and your mind knew was how delicious everything felt as your orgasm started to slowly blossom. Harry stroked over your bud, up and down with pressure that built and built and built as he continued fucking into you.

The sound of smacking flesh filled the room, wet squelches with every thrust, and the soft moan of Vana as she enjoyed the show.

Harry’s fingers pinched into your hips as he held you tight with one hand, pasting your pussy against the base of his cock as he rutted into you, while he used his other hand to run his fingers over your clit.

You were powerless to it. You began to tremble and cry as your pussy clenched over him and your orgasm uncoiled from your tummy.

“Oh that’s so pretty, fuck, Harry, look at her.”

He was looking at you. Watching your face twist up in bliss as you came all over his cock. Wave after wave as he fucked into you made you delirious and you reached for his arm and held on, “Oh god… oh god… need that, Harry! Need you!”

Your words didn’t mean much. You were in the throes of your orgasm and neither Harry nor his wife minded your pronouncements. Sometimes even Harry would get into it and say things he didn’t mean because that was sex. It kind of did something to the brain in the moment of peak ecstasy.

When you felt him pulling out and warm hands grazed over your hips and your tummy, up to your breasts and face you fluttered your eyes open to see Harry grinning down at you, “Felt good didn’t it? You’re a pro at this already, Y/n. Got you off so fast, sweetheart.”

You laughed softly and nodded, “Guess I did come really fast.”

“Mind if I get you in doggy so I can get off too? Or do you just wanna lie like this while I finish myself off?”

You swallowed and pushed yourself up, “I can change positions. That’s fine.”

Turning yourself over to get on all fours, Harry guided your angle so you were face to face with Vana and then you felt his mouth on the back of your neck, on your shoulder blades, and down your spine until you felt him gripping your hips and pushing you down so your face was smushed into the comforter and you were no longer looking at his wife.

When you felt his cock press back in, spreading you open he moaned and got to it right away; thrusting in and all the way out, in and then holding you flush against his hips.

“Vana, fuck her pussy feels so good. Want to keep her for a bit,” Harry watched as his cock disappeared into you as he spoke to his wife, “Maybe next week if she’s up for more… fuck. Gonna need to feel this again.”

You started to feel that floaty, faraway mushiness again as Harry began to punch into you. His voice getting further and further away as your limbs began to quiver.

“I’d love that. Love to have her on your cock as much as you want, Harry,” Vana moaned as she reveled in the way Harry was so fucked out of his mind with you.

You hissed when he began to pound into you and your thighs couldn’t hold you up any longer. Slowly you began to slide down as Harry fucked into you with his long cock and strong legs flexing against you, until you were flat on your tummy with Harry moaning and ramming into you, hips crashing into your ass.

You felt his hard dick begin to throb and twitch as he whined your name, “Oh god… Y/n, baby… fuck you’re gonna… fuck Y/n…”

With your eyes closed and Harry’s fat dick lodged deep in your cunt he tensed and stilled his hips as he began to pump hot come into his condom.

“God Harry, that feels so good for you, baby… she’s so good for your cock isn’t she?”

You couldn’t hear Harry’s response as he pressed his chest into your back, but you could feel the vibrations of his voice as he spoke.

He was heavy on you. You could feel his chest filling with air as he breathed deeply and then suddenly you were cold as he slid out of you and off your body. You rolled over and sat up to see him grasping Vana’s face with one hand and kissing her hard, the fingers on his other hand sliding against the crotch of her bike shorts, and then a smile from him as he whispered something to her and she laughed.

They both looked at you, pleased expressions on their faces.

“Would you be up for more another day?” Vana asked as Harry disappeared into the ensuite bathroom.

“Um… yeah. It’s okay more than once?”

Vana shrugged, “Sometimes it’s fine. As long as you don’t expect an emotional connection we’re up for you coming over or him meeting you at your place.”

“At my place?”

Harry stepped out of the bathroom with a towel and sat next to you, his briefs back on.

“Yeah. You two could do it again without me. Your place or at a hotel even. I like it when he records the sounds or takes videos so he can share them with me. Whatever you’re comfortable with. But I would know what was going on and when. Which makes me feel really excited when he’s gone for hours and then comes back to me after and he smells like sex.”

Harry began gently wiping at you as Vana spoke. You had never heard of anything like this before but you were sure Harry and Vana weren’t the only ones that did it. It felt wrong on some level but Vana seemed to love it and she was, in a way, calling all the shots.

“I mean, if you are okay with it and we can find some time for more… yeah. I’m good with that.”

Harry and Vana left you alone while you used their bathroom to freshen up and get dressed. You almost looked like a different person when you stared at yourself in the mirror. What had you just done? And why had you liked it so much? You left their house with more questions than answers that evening but you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by what could happen next.

You just hoped you could follow the rules and not get emotionally attached. But you figured it’d be worth it if you could get fucked like that again.

. . .

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[quizzicalwriter]

dally winston x virgin!reader who asks her boyfriend dally to be her first time

Sweet Thing

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Intimacy, intimacy, intimacy.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Kissing, touching, fingering. Inexperienced and slightly innocent reader. Loss of virginity.

A/N: Thank you for the request!

Word Count: 2.8k (I got carried away.)

You’d always been Dallas’s favorite preoccupation, distracting him from everything else in life. The sweet thing he carted around whenever he hung around with the boys or found himself in the drunken den that was Buck’s on a Saturday night. You’d be there, propped on his lap with his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

Not that you didn’t have anything to say besides sitting there, hell, the guys loved you. You could hold your own when it came to their wit and it made you a worthy companion for Dallas in their eyes, not to mention your inexplicable ability to put up with his shit when nobody else had before - or seemingly nobody else had been given the chance.

Normally Dallas would’ve gone for girls at the drive-in, greaser girls, or any woman he could get his hands on or who could handle his banter for longer than a minute without giving him the back of their hand. You weren’t one of them, and frankly, that terrified Dallas. There was a part of him that wanted to pull away, push you away in hopes that he’d save himself the pain of heartbreak later on he’d convinced himself he’d suffer. But he always stopped himself whenever you found yourself in his arms, gazing up at him with your doe-like eyes.

It was a difficult thing, Dallas being intimate. He was born and raised in a constant battle for survival, not showing love or producing it, but you made it easy. The longer you two had been together the longer he found himself wanting to keep you close, protect you from dangers he seemed to see everywhere. The worries you once had about him leaving eventually faded, the look in his eyes as he gazed at you whenever you laid in his arms far outweighed any ill thoughts you’d suffered with.

The only way you could describe it was ardent, laced with a deep desire that you’d never seen before in his brown eyes. A deep desire that would show itself in the bounds of the night after the two of you had disappeared together, culminating in you on his lap in his bed, hips rocking together as he kissed along your throat and down onto your chest. Or with your legs wrapped loosely around his hips, him grinding into you, you whispering sweet moans into his mouth spurring him on to do more, touch you more, please you more.

Dallas never pushed, he was always understanding whenever you pulled away. Of course, he’d have to adjust himself in his jeans, but he’d quickly pull you to his chest and press delicate kisses along your face, murmuring how much you mean to him, something he didn’t dare do in front of others. That side of Dallas was for you, nobody else, so you treasured it whenever he showed it.

On one particular Saturday night in the midst of autumn, you found yourself propped up against Dallas’s side on one of the couches in Buck’s bar, legs bent up at your chest as you fiddled with frayed denim at the end of your pant leg. Dallas was in a debate with a random man, someone he seemed to know well enough to bullshit with, talking about how the two had snagged something good off a rich man’s car not too long ago.

If it hadn’t been for the incessant country music Buck played when it rounded two in the morning you’d likely have fallen asleep against Dallas, but the occasional jump of a new song kept you jerking awake, a tired pout situating itself on your features as you rested your cheek against Dallas’s shoulder.

“Looks like your miss is real tired.” The man stated, taking a long puff from his cigar before gesturing toward you with the end of it, a snicker following his words as he propped himself up against the end of his pool cue. Dallas quirked a brow, looking down at you where you were tucked into his side with a hidden smile.

“Guess she is.” He murmured, not saying anything more beyond that before moving to prop himself up straighter, hand smoothing down your back as he looked down at you. “Tired?”

You weren’t tired, tired. More so bored, the constant scent of smoke and alcohol wasn’t helping the boredom or the budding headache in the back of your skull. But knowing if you said anything other than ‘yes’ at that moment would result in another hour downstairs, you nodded, feigning a yawn as you let your eyes flutter deceptively.

Dallas caught on, but he didn’t say anything. Instead choosing to click his tongue against his teeth as he played along, shrugging as he moved to stand. “I’ll see you later, man.” He stated, causing the older man to shrug himself before dispersing off into the crowd. Dallas turned to you, helping you to your feet before leading you up the stairs.

“Lyin’ is a sin, y’know that right?” He chuckled out, quiet enough for only you to hear as he nudged open his bedroom door with the toe of his shoe, causing you to laugh yourself and avert your gaze from his as you moved into the familiar room.

“Didn’t lie.” You mumbled out, another pout crossing your lips as you kicked off your shoes, making your way to his bed. “Real tired, Dally.”

“Sure, doll.” He snickered from the corner of the room as you made yourself comfortable on the bed, the familiar metallic clang of his belt hitting the wooden floor echoing throughout the room soon after.

He moved beside you then, letting out a sigh as he wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling your back flush with his chest. The sound of country music and clattering pool balls still echoed from downstairs, but the only thing you could bring yourself to focus on was the feeling of Dallas’s knee between your legs.

It was an innocent move, both of you slept with your legs intertwined, it felt comfortable given how small his bed was. As he shifted to get more comfortable his knee pressed harder against your clothed cunt, causing your cheeks to flush red as you choked back a whine. Dallas stiffened, breath catching in his throat as he took a moment to gauge your reaction before moving his knee again.

“Dal-“ You whined, hand moving down in between your legs as you buried your face into the pillow you two shared, his scent lingering heavily on the fabric doing nothing to quell the growing ache between your legs.

“What, doll? Feel good?” He whispered, words ghosting across the nape of your neck, causing your back to arch involuntarily as you slowly nodded. His hand smoothed down your front, bumping over the fabric of your shirt and jeans as he slowly moved to cup your sex, ever so gently applying pressure as he rocked himself against you.

You felt yourself soaking your underwear with arousal the longer he rutted against you, his fingers pressing against your cunt through your jeans as he did. A familiar sensation bloomed in your lower stomach, one that left you clenching your thighs around his palm as you tried to quell the growing ache.

“Gotta tell me what you want.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, trailing a litany of open-mouthed kisses along the curvature of your throat, pressure from his fingers increasing against your cunt. “Need to hear you say it.”

“Fuck, Dallas, just fuck me.” You whined, embarrassment over the prospect of voicing your needs soon being overweighed by the sheer need you felt for him, your hand moved to grasp at his forearm as you begged. “Please, Dal.”

That seemed to be all he needed as he moved to sit up on his knees, pressing another kiss to your jaw before pulling his shirt up and over his head. You laid there, lips parted as you watched him undress, feeling your blush spread from your cheeks to the top of your chest. You wanted to touch him, feel him, kiss him - so you did. You moved to sit up, folding your legs underneath yourself as you moved to press a kiss to his lips, hands moving to cup his jaw, only pulling away when you felt that familiar pull to touch him elsewhere.

You’d seen him without a shirt, but you’d never truly been able to admire him until now. Your hands wavered over his body, fingertips dipping in between the rivets of his toned skin, along healed scars, a faint bruise that still lingered under the left side of his ribcage. Above it all you found yourself fascinated with the way his chest rose with each breath and the small freckles that lined his skin. They reminded you of the ones he’d gotten from his time in the sun that plastered themselves against his cheekbones and upper shoulders.

Dallas let you look, eyes fluttering whenever your hands would drift farther south than before. You could hear him taking in shuddering breaths, chest catching every few minutes as though he were teetering on the edge of self-control. He raised his hands then, looking to you for approval before he lifted your shirt up and over your head, bundling the soft fabric in his hands before letting it fall to the floor.

You reached your hands behind yourself, unclasping your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders until your bra collapsed into your lap, exposing your breasts to him. Dallas had seen women before, he’d seen plenty, but none of them had ever had the effect you currently had on him. He felt his throat dry, brown eyes flickering between your chest and your eyes before he moved to gently lay you back against his bed, situating himself over top of you.

“You want this?” His words were hushed as his hand drifted down over your bare stomach, slowly unbuttoning your jeans as he kept his gaze locked on your face, watching for any sign of discomfort or worry. When you responded with a nod and a quiet, “I want this.” He smiled, a soft laugh leaving him as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

You’d envisioned losing your virginity hundreds of times, a perfect encapsulation of what sex had to be painted in your mind, vivid and blaring. But this was so different, the way Dallas was so gentle, not afraid to laugh if something awkward happened, both of you sharing the pure moment of intimacy with smiles on your face. Nothing could’ve ever prepared you for it and that somehow made it all so much better.

As he slid your jeans off your legs he smiled up at you, a soft look on his face as he tossed the denim to the floor, moving back up to place another languid kiss to your lips. His hand moved between your thighs, fingers splaying against your cunt through your underwear, a groan passing his lips when he felt just how wet you’d become.

“Dallas, please-“ You begged, thighs trembling as he continued to tease you through your underwear. He relented, placing a gentle kiss to your jaw before moving to sit back up, slowly sliding your underwear down and off your body before discarding them to the floor as well.

“So beautiful.” He murmured, eyes wandering over your form laid in front of him, hands smoothing up and down your sides as he took it all in. “So fuckin’ beautiful, doll.”

You watched with bated breath as he slipped his jeans off, kicking his boxers off along with them. His length was bigger than you’d anticipated, only having felt the shape of it when you’d ground down against him during your frequent make-out sessions. As if sensing your apprehension he moved back over you, hand moving to cup your cheek as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“It won’t hurt, alright? We’ll take it slow, real slow.” He whispered, voice soothing as he helped you to wrap your legs around his hips, your heels subtly digging into the flesh of his lower back. He smiled down at you, eyes voicing a silent question if you were alright to which you quickly nodded back, a smile upon your face as well.

He braced himself on his arm, face close to yours as he slid a hand down between you, helping to guide himself inside before sliding his fingers up to slowly circle your clit. A moan left you at the feeling, leaving you clenching around his tip, the feeling causing him to bite back a grunt as he slowly began pushing in.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groaned out, brows screwing together as he pushed himself to the hilt inside of your welcoming cunt, pausing in his movements to give you a chance to grow used to the feeling. “Doin’ so good, baby, so good.”

You’d heard horror stories from your friends, tales of how their first time had been painful and rushed, but this felt the complete opposite. While it took you a moment to grow used to the feeling of him inside of you, it was an incredibly welcome feeling. You could feel yourself clenching down around him, his fingers circling your clit only adding to the feeling building in your stomach.

“Dal- Dal, move.” You whispered out, voice hoarse as you grasped at his shoulders, desperate for him to move. He snickered at your pleading tone, slowly pulling himself out before pushing back in, slowly and deeply fucking you as he whispered words of praise into the crook of your neck, pressing kisses against your damp skin whenever he couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of your warmth surrounding him.

You could hear your wetness coating his cock with each thrust of his hips, his fingers slick against your clit. The room was filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, broken-off moans, and whispered words. Your thighs tightened against him as he adjusted himself, lifting himself a bit, unknowingly brushing against a spot within you that you’d never known existed - one that pulled a drawn-out moan from your chest.

“Yeah?” He asked through a smirk, hand moving down to cup your hip as he pushed back into you, hitting that very same spot. You could hardly think, let alone breathe as he fucked himself into you, fingers working at your clit as he angled himself to hit that spot over, and over. “Taking me so good, doll.” He grunted out, grip tightening on your hip as he picked up his pace.

Your hand shot down to his wrist as he continued toying with your clit, eyes fluttering shut as you felt your orgasm building to its peak in your lower stomach, the feeling causing you to rock your hips in tandem with his thrusts. The look on your face was enough to make him groan, his hand moving from your hip to your jaw as he tilted your face to look at him.

“Look at me when you cum on my cock, baby.” He murmured, voice soft yet authoritative as he slammed into you. As soon as you opened your eyes he moved his hand, pressing it against your lower stomach as he continued fucking himself into you. It felt as though he were pushing you down onto him, that spot that nearly blinded you with pleasure constantly being rutted against by his cock.

All you could muster was a weak, “F-fuck,” as you came undone, back arching off the bed as you whined out his name. He didn’t stop, stifling a groan at the way you writhed beneath him as he felt his orgasm building. Once you started swatting at his fingers that still circled your clit he moved his hand, choosing to grab the other side of your hip, effectively propping you up against him as he fucked you.

The pace was near brutal, moans forced from your body as your breasts bounced with each thrust. You couldn’t focus, still reeling from your last orgasm as he continued fucking you into oversensitivity-fueled bliss. You could feel his thumbs pressing into your hipbones, short curses slipping past his lips.

“Gonna cum, baby.” He grunted, pulling out of you a second later, spilling his cum across your lower stomach. His chest heaved, cheeks flushed red as he pumped himself through his orgasm. You could only watch in a haze of your own, still catching your breath as he looked up at you, that familiar crooked smile taking over his features as he moved on top of you once more.

“Did so good, doll. Real good.” He murmured against your cheek, pressing a kiss to your skin between each sentence. “You feel alright? Need me to get you something?” He asked after a moment, a hint of concern evident in his tone that made you smile as you shook your head.

“It felt perfect, Dal. I’m alright.” You whispered back, turning over onto your side to face him, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek, leaning up after to press a kiss to his waiting lips. “Perfect.”

A/N: Thank you for reading if you made it this far, or even if you just skimmed it over - either way I appreciate the interactions! As always you can find my work over on my ao3 under the user “Unscriptural.” Thank you anon for the request! (Sorry for the late posting, or early? Wherever you are? I finished editing it and didn’t want to queue it, so here is your daily scheduled reading material.)

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor and reader's wedding? What did her dress look like? How did Al react to her wallking down the isle?? PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW

I always cry at weddings 😭 😭 😭

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Possessive Alastor, FEELINGS

Description: ☝️⬆️

If you two got married when you were alive, then I imagine it was a very small and intimate ceremony

You and Alastor did a lot of the decorating yourselves, even making your own wedding cake because Alastor can BAKE

You two had a blast doing it too, turning everything into a little game and making deals over who could set things up the fastest/nicest

Winner gets a kiss from the loser

You two would likely only invite your closest friends and relatives(if you were close with your family that is)

If Alastor's mother was still alive by the time you guys got engaged then she 110% would be there(I genuinely don't remember when she died soooooo)

She would absolutely be his best man because who else would be worthy of such a position??

Happy tears from her the entire time

This woman will walk you down the aisle if she has to, she won't let you walk alone on your big day

Not Alastor holding back tears at the sight of his mother and soon to be wife walking towards him

Mimzy would also have been there, and she would've fought for her right as maid of honor, like physically fought off her competitors

You're haunted by the memory of it, actually

Absolutely sticks her nose in everything but only because she wants it to be perfect for you two

She will tear up anyone who throws a wrench in the ceremony and will run it better than she did her own club

"These floors better be SPOTLESS! If I see a single speck of dust on that dress-"

She probably insisted on paying for the wedding too

Alastor would probably have a last minute freak out at the thought that this is actually happening, he's getting married

But he wouldn't be nervous about you leaving him at the altar or anything like that, just normal wedding jitters

But he's resolute in the fact that he wants this, he wants to be your husband and share his life with you

And he definitely doesn't want anyone else thinking there's a chance they can take you from him

Alastor is positively radiating warmth and pride by the time you're walking down the aisle, blown away by how stunning you look

Whether the dress is unique, traditional or not even a wedding dress-he's amazed by just how good you look in it

It makes his mouth water

He's lowkey preening for you the entire time

It just makes everything seem more real to him, immediately reaching out to take your hands in order to keep himself grounded in reality

He actually is at a loss for words for once...

"You look really handsome..."

The sight of your happy blush brings him back, and he's pressing his forehead to yours

"And you look nearly as good as I do, my dear~"

Ass

The slight quiver in his smile, glassy eyes and tight grip on your hands gives him away though, you know what he really means

You look heavenly to him

Neither you or Alastor listen to a word the officiant says, too busy gazing lovingly at one another to pay them any mind

And you're definitely not getting distracted at the feeling of his thumbs gently caressing over your hands

When it comes to the vows, Alastor definitely puts his heart and soul into trying to make you cry at words

He's putting on a show for you but you love it ❤️

He looks smug as hell when he finishes

His gaze becomes softer as you say your own vows, smile becoming a little more gooey as you make his heart race

"And if anyone is opposed to this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Not Alastor and Mimzy giving death glares to anyone who would even dare saying anything

As if you two even invited anybody who would fucking try

"You may now kiss-"

Alastor doesn't even wait for him to finish, tugging you close and kissing you deeply

And once your arms wrap around his neck then maybe the kiss gets a little too intimate

Mimzy is whistling and cheering while Alastor's mother is politely looking away from you two

You two barely pull away to breathe before he kisses you again, seemingly unable to stop

He just can't believe he's kissing his wife

That he's your husband and everyone is going to know that you're not on the market anymore

Not that you ever were before

It's an embarrassingly long time before you two stop, and you're left panting, rosy-cheeked, and weak in the knees

Alastor doesn't move his arm from your waist for the rest of the night, wanting to keep you close

The only time he does let you go is when he goes to dance with his mother or when it's your turn to dance with his mother

Not her giving you both embarrassing advice about the honeymoon and early married couple life

She wants grandkids dammit

When you two are cutting the cake, he does NOT slam a slice into your face but he does put a bit of frosting on your nose

Only to lick it off a moment later

🥵 BOI

If you do it back to him then he will be properly flustered because he was banking on the fact that you would be too shocked to react

He doesn't care about wedding gifts or anything like that but his mother's blessing means everything to him

So her approval of your marriage and you as her daughter in law just solidified how important you'll always be to him

But don't worry because Mimzy definitely made sure to hook you two up with gifts

Alastor literally can't stop kissing you afterwards, your hands, your cheeks, your forehead, your neck, ect

If you return even a smidgen of that affection back to him then it'll only make him more excited for your future together

He's not even thinking of the honeymoon, he's just overwhelmed with the urge to give you affection

He just thinks about how he'll never be tired of being your husband and having you as his wife

Waking up to you, going to bed with you, cooking with you, messing with you, hell even fighting with you sounds appealing because then he can make up with you

Alastor never really thought of himself as the type to get married but you came and completely changed that with your love

Even though he was difficult and fought falling in love with you with everything he had

You fought back harder to love him

Now that he's here with you, looking at the wedding band on your finger, the loving look on your face

Your hand on his cheek gently guiding him to look into your eyes as you lean in towards him

Feeling your lips on his own as you whisper loving things against them before kissing him

He's happy you won that fight

This one was a lot of fun!! I was originally going to do two versions of this! One wedding before you two died and one for after you both were dead but then I included his mom and-

I got very carried away

[greyskyflowers]

I have found there's very specific things I just really enjoy in fics about Edwin and Charles's romantic relationship.

So, I honestly just can't picture Charles anything other than very inexperienced at intimacy but so excited. Like a teenager feeling up his first girlfriend in the back of a car or under the bleachers. Excited, nervous, eager to please and just kind of in awe of being able to touch someone like that. He's got almost no idea what he's doing but he's 100% open and willing to learning.

I think he always ends up smiling into kisses, a little lopsided grin that's pleased as hell. He always offers a bunch of little encouragements and comforts You're doing great. I know it's a lot but I've got you. You feel good.

And lots of nipping, bites, and marks because no one will ever convince me Charles is not a hickey man.

Charles thrives on positive feedback and Edwin makes sure to always give praise.

Edwin is just kind of overwhelmed with intimacy. Being intimate with someone is a lot, especially if you haven't had it before and you've kind of built it up in your head.

So, I always feel like Edwin is in this constant closer no that's too close wait come back push and pull of anxious affection that has him leaning into every touch even though he's also trying to pull away at the same time.

Lots of bitten off noises, hums and gasps. He touches like he's scared he's going to break something or it's all going to disappear.

If they have to stop because it gets to be too much for Edwin, Charles doesn't ever look upset. He's pleased as hell to be doing any of this. He can't think of anything Edwin could ever do to disappoint him.

Careful, light, sure touches because the only intimacy they both really have is terrible. Edwin with the boys who held him down and hell. Charles with his dad.

I think Charles shows his love by loving someone and Edwin shows his love by letting himself be loved.

Charles wasn't able to show love to his family or his friends, who weren't friends at all. I personally imagine he had lots of girls he messed around with while he was alive with but it never went beyond that into something serious.

He can't show his love to humans, like Crystal, because it makes them look crazy. He can't hold a living girl's hand in public without her getting looks. They can't kiss or even talk with other living humans around without it being strange.

He can show his love to Edwin in a way he can't show it to anyone else.

Edwin is proud to be seen with Charles. He can talk and touch and be with Charles regardless of who's around. I personally like the idea that ghosts can feel other ghosts, as if they were living people or something close to that.

So, being with Edwin feels like he's with Edwin.

I just think once the ice is broken on what their relationship is, that he'd be all over it. Holding hands, quick kisses, hugs, sitting next to each other or all tangled together. Also a big fan of Charles coming up behind Edwin, wrapping his arms around his waist and hooking his chin over his shoulder to watch whatever it is he's doing.

Edwin didn't have close friends or family when he was alive, at least that we're aware of. Then he spent decades in hell where his only touch was painful, terrrifying, never ending.

Letting someone touch him, put him in such a vulnerable position physically and emotionally, is a big ask. That's why he's never done it or seem to have even contemplated it until he realizes his feelings about Charles.

He lets Charles touch him, and protect him, and know him more than anyone one else living or dead. It's easy to open himself up for Charles to love him.

I also feel like there's such a comfort level there that Edwin could say I think I'd like to try *insert action here* and Charles would be like yep yep we can do that or Charles could say I've always wanted to try *insert action here* and Edwin's like okay I'll find a book and read up on it with a fluttering of anxious excitement.

Do I also personally like to think bdsm dynamics, sexual and/or nonsexual, are present in their relationship? Yes. Absolutely. 100%.

[valentine-cafe]

Hello!! Rasui-obsessed anon here! First time requesting and I’m a bit new here so sorry if I get it wrong!

( smut ) for ftm reader please? You just wanted to spend some time with the ever so busy Rasui in his office, being clingy and wanting to get intimate without disturbing his work, you suggest cockwarming!! But then it totally backfires cause now you’re all needy and whiny after a while and trying so hard not to beg him to fuck you because you don’t want to bother him anymore than you already have!!

love you guys lots! can i also be 🦐 anon hehe

˖⁺. “ how to not ! cockwarm your busy bf ” : 

﹙ top fire elemental mercenary x bttm ftm reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . verse 9948e rasui x ftm reader!! 🍒 : ﹙ mercenary leader ˖ fire elemental character ﹚

you're always such a needy thing. you couldn't help but cockwarm your beloved boyfriends while he's busy. . . and now here you are, wishing you could bounce on his cock instead 

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ cockwarming ˖ teasing ˖ edging ˖ rough sex ˖ dirty talk | wc : 2.1k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: this request was so fun to write ! I hope that you like this our dearest no.1 rasui-fucker/romancer <3

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

The scratch of a pen. It scribbles away so skillfully over paper. Yet the itch within you is left to swelter. So close - and yet so far.

Deep mahogany seems most interesting to you in the moment. Or at least, that is what you wish to delude yourself with. Your focus hones on the scatter of documents full of text you can barely decipher. Not that you would be able to even if you understood. Not with the warm, thick cock that fills you to the brim. A perfect stretch to your rim that you fight to hell-and-back not to clench up around your hard-working boyfriend.

How dutiful is he. Only one hand to write away at his work that you so desperately wish he would discard. Why can’t it be you on the table with his hands all over you?

Instead you will have to settle for the touch of ember upon your thigh with a calloused thumb lazily tracing circles. Mindlessly, you assume. For Rasui has yet to let out so much as a peep.

While you are here. Suffering. Needing.

All it would take is a small dip of your hips. A rock back into his lap to send fireworks through your twist of a tummy. Perhaps a tender word uttered to his ear where brunette locks lap along his lobes neatly. The slightest of pleads and you knew - work would become an afterthought.

Alas, anxiety is a fickle thing. The mere possibility of him looking at you with those flames of his eyes dampened with disappointment. The warmth of his voice drained into a dull scold: “I told you I am busy.”

It almost loops your tummy more than the intense pleasure that throbs along your gummy walls. They remember his rough thrusts, and they flutter. As though crying out for him to wreck them as he usually does. Simple grinds. Slothful humps. Whatever he wants.

Anything, but the stillness of a lake. One that you drown in. Agonisingly.

That irritable lump that continues to form inside of your throat refuses to go away. Regardless of how much you attempt to swallow it. A sigh escapes the man from behind your back. Heavy and tired. As are the few last scribbles on the current document that plagues his mind so clearly.

All before he moves on to the next. Endless. Piece of document paper, that has laid in the piles of documents.

What else can you do but cry out internally? The flames within your soul feel as though they will rage through your entire form soon enough and rip you to shreds from the need. Yet he knows none of what you feel —

In the reality of it all, he is very aware. It is all a game. Why should he tell you? Oh the cruel man of magma and fire reaching high up to the skies that he is. He recognises the loopy look.

It is sweet. That you think you remain unseen and unnoticed. Without the slightest of realisation you clench around him mindlessly. The way your eyes squint. Pearly whites biting down upon the plush skin of a bottom lip.

“Careful, darling, you’ll break skin.” He murmurs, eyes remaining where they have all this time. The sheet of paper, gathering the slightest of burn marks from the heat emitting from him.

With teeth halting immediately, and a breath hitched quietly. Your eyes move to focus somewhere else in the room — Perhaps a smell could distract you? Cinnamon? No. . . No that is just Rasui.

The window displaying the society of shades’ bustling nightlife? Most uninteresting. It gets harder and harder to not allow a whine or more out of your lungs. Head limping back against his shoulder.

“Sweet thing. You are bothered.”

Oh. Oh this bastard. The question carried such innocence. Feigned, you’d assume no less. You couldn’t do anything, it was mock. Was it not? “I am— I am okay, just tired.” The response earns the lift of a dark brown brow, and a huff. Flames puff into the air from the locks of hair at the top of his head.

“Certainly?” You yelp at the words slipped out into the atmosphere of the room, for you felt his hips shift below you. Pistoning up, as if to adjust. And then he begins to act as though nothing had happened? Pretending. Infuriating.

A part of you wishes to spin around. Hook your legs through the loops of his black office chair and ride him until creaks bounce off of the wall in an endless drone. What a sweet fantasy that is. If you promptly ignore his difference in strength in comparison to you. How easy it would be for him to simply shove your form across his table and fuck you senseless. Surely the chair creaking would be replaced the legs of the desk skidding rhythmically across the floor in no time.

Your mini mirages send another shudder through your body. Your walls flutter around his dick with one of your innermost crevices nursing along that one vein that makes Rasui restrain a groan of his own.

He couldn’t give you what you want just yet, now could he? Not when the payoff of your pitiful begging would be all the more sweeter. He spoils himself in the slightest with traces of his heated lips along your shoulder. A flicker of taste to the confection yet to come.

The click of a tongue breaks the silent. You catch his frustrated scribble of a signature on a document you barely have the chance to read, before he shuffles it beneath the stack of paper. Another operation he does not agree with - you assume.

The ball of irritation that has so stubbornly nestled itself within your core quickly bubbles into guilt. Here you are, whining over not having his dick pounding you sore.

Out of habit, you shift around in an attempt to quell the prickle of conflict within you. It seems you have so easily forgotten of your favourite cock that is buried so deep within you. Its pulses are swift to remind you, coupled with the spurt of pleasure that rattles through your body.

“Fuck,”

It is a cross between desperacy and bliss. What a cruel mix to lather itself over you skin and set your nerves ablaze. Your muscles move on memory and chase the spark of pleasure with stiff cradles of your hips. Sense and conscience flung out the window you so uselessly attempted to distract yourself with.

Surely, if you hadn’t snapped yourself back into presence, your moans would have poured through it shamelessly as well.

“Mm. What’s this?”

“Rasui. . . please.”

You can deny the shivers that course through your body no longer.

It truly was a pain in and of itself. Why could your nails not be scratching hard across the beautiful desk at this moment as you got fucked intensely?

Why did it have to imagination and nothing more?

“Please? Please what, habibi?” He croons. The deep timber of his voice vibrating through your right ear. With the mission to twist your tummy once more and have you clenching.

The needy begs he wants to hear from you— they are not coming. And it sets him ablaze. In the literal way as much as it is figurative. Emotions scattered and screaming, like a wildfire spreading across a meadow.

Hungry, tearing into it.

Just like the flames that surround his office, you feel the ones from him surround your body. Licking away at your skin in possessive manner. As if the flame had a life of it’s own.

You moan out quietly as he shifts his hips into an upwards angle, the throbbing tip of his cock hitting at the sensitive bundle of nerves you had been needing to feel getting fucked into.

“I need — I needyou. Rasui, I nee—ed you, need you so bad—”

And as you went on, you would come to feel the familiar rhythm, slow. Agonising, but despite it all you revered in it.

The pleasure shot bliss straight to your head. Nausea mixing with the pleasure and overwhelm. Furthering your whines as you cling onto him. A groan escapes your throat. Only to cut off into a gasp, when calloused, hot, flaming fingers find your nipple.

Thumb swiping across your top surgery scar. Whilst the heated voice in your ear whispers: “It is pitiful. How you wait, I am right here. Take.”

And there’s the skid of the table.

A familiar weight presses you down as though you are one of those documents. Rasui’s body so firmly pins yours against the smooth wood of his desk. It creates such a delightful friction to your already perked nipples that slide and scrape across the surface.

The hand that stroked along your thigh has found home on your head. With strength that could rage embers through vast forests, it forces your face to half-press against the solid surface. It is a sensation you would have no time to delight in. Not with the fierce claps of hips to your ass. Warmth of flame and force combined.

“Is this what you wanted?” You feel the fire lap from his tongue and lips. They kiss at your ear with a familiar heat that boils in the core of your tummy as thrusts wreck your body. Cinnamon floods your senses - more potent than earlier. An addictive aroma. Almost akin to the delicious feel of his cock splitting your walls open.

“Wanted to come around here. Disturb my work.”

His palm joins the assault. It smacks at your ass and grips at the soft flesh. The perfect leverage for him to angle his thrusts and knock against that one, darling spot. Flames might have consumed you whole - yet white floods your vision in waves. White. Hot pleasure that crawls up your throat and forces your mouth open. Subjecting the office to your moaning melody.

“All so this needy hole could get a good fucking, hmm?”

“Y-Ye - yes yes - yeesss ah! ‘m sorry-”

The table legs screech against the floor at the rise in tempo. Your nails sing in tandem from the scratches they etch into the wood. Just as you wanted them to.

Much like the bright burning stars that litter the night sky, embers scatter off of your joined bodies. Flaming hands keep you down against the wooden surface. Whilst the only thing that burns you are his nails, that dig into the skin of your waist.

A small moaned out scream mixed with pleasure and pain runs around the room. Like a wild animal on the lose. It makes you lightheaded.

The feral feel that swells within your stomach. Your sensitive hole begging for more, whereas your body only seems to collapse more against the desk each time.

“o- o-h! — o — ngh-m hn— R-Ra-sss-zuii!” You moan out loud. Yet what meets you instead is a hand squeezing tight at your thigh and leaving a few burn marks. Whilst sharp teeth find purchase in your shoulder.

“Not that. Say it right.”

The command is shot at your heart, and oh the weakness that spins around with it. In a dance of fresh air and lava pools trying to catch the wind.

Thinning your lips on instinct as the pleasure grows. It takes another hard thrust into the right spot for you to spill out messy calls for him. “D—Director— Di— Director Rasui— ngh — Pl-Pleas-ah!”

“Good boy— thas’ it, good boy.” grunts against your ear, as the pace whips itself out of rhythm. Even if he tried to keep it going, your desperate pleas sent him straight back home to the elemental realm. The sweetest song he has ever heard.

How can he deny you the pleasure of being full of his hot seed when you sing for him so delightfully?

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[genshin-obsessed]

Him as a husband | Honkai Star Rail

✩ ‒ It's been a while since I've wrriten anything for star rail, so I decided to make these cute lil hcs. I'm not branching out to the newest pretty boy yet, I don't know anything about him. I avoided saying Valentine’s Day cuz they're not on earth or whatever.

✩ ‒ I'm also trying to butter y'all up a little for something else I'm planning lmao

✩ ‒ Characters: Caelus, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Blade, Luocha

✩ ‒ Caelus

He's not vocal about being married per se, but people usually know he's married. Other than the ring, he's very unresponsive to flirting. If anyone attempts to flirt with him, he'll just act like he doesn't get it. It makes things awkward and people often leave after.

He's very attentive to you. If you're having a bad day, he'll know pretty much immediately and will do anything and everything to get your mind off of it if you don't want to talk about it.

He loves to celebrate holidays for couples. They're super special days because every day with him is special, but he does go out of his way a little bit to surprise you with something. Could even be food, as long as you're surprised and smiling.

Cuddles are a must. You better hope your rooms are cold at night because he cuddles up to you every single time. He'll either lay his head on your chest or hug you against him, so sometimes it feels really hot in the morning.

Caelus prefers outdoor activities as dates, but isn't opposed to staying in. Movies, snacks, just being with one another isn't so bad. But going to a new planet and fighting baddies is also pretty enticing. More on that, Caelus has near heart attacks when you get hurt- like he saw you get hurt badly once and almost cried. Ok, no, he cried a little.

Children are up to you. He doesn't have much of a preference.

✩ ‒ Dan Heng

"Are you two married? You don't act like it." This has and always will confuse Dan Heng. What the hell does it mean? Is he supposed to be all over you or something? He has class. Though... he will hold your hand more often. Maybe the ring he'll get you for your anniversary might have a ginormous gem so it blinds everyone or something.

He's also pretty attentive to your needs and emotions. The second he thinks you're upset or hurt, he's at your side. He may or may not be a little clingy but he's so terrified of losing you. It's actually changed him for the better a little. He's less quiet, more expressive, and a lot more open to communication. That could also be due to his recent transformation...

He's not overly fond of those "couple days" because he's usually loving all year around. Why have a dedicated day? He has a hard time seeing the point in days like those.

Dates for Dan Heng are usually stay at home. He likes the more intimate activities at home- cuddling, watching movies, making out- yanno. Intimate.

Dan Heng likes kisses. Cheek kisses, neck kisses, shoulder kisses, hand kisses- don't matter. He loves them all. Usually done behind closed doors, Dan Heng never forgets to kiss you. Like, ever. He will also make up for lost kisses.

Um... he prefers no children, but it's something you can talk about later on.

✩ ‒ Jing Yuan

You have your hands full with this one. Everyone and their courier birds will know he's married to you. This man just can't stop talking about you. Like, he'll be receiving a report about something or other and just somehow manages to drop your name in the conversation. It's cute and all, but Jing Yuan, focus!

Sadly, he's a busy man. He comes home to you every single day, don't worry, but he does need to be away for most of the day. He's not the biggest fan of it and has suggested maybe trying to find a position for you to keep you close by. Other than being down right addicted to you, he worries because he's got enemies.

Jing Yuan DOES take time for those fancy couple days but they're not overly different from the usual dates. He used to make it all fancy, with giant bouquets of flowers and expensive jewelry, until he realized he was showering you with love on a specific day and not every day like he should. So, he's toned it down a little, but every now and then, he'll get you something fancy.

There isn't much time for dates. They usually include visiting him during his breaks and enjoying some tea together. Maybe spending time with Mimi or something. But on his days off, he tries really hard to set up something for you.

He kinda likes to hold you. There's nothing wrong with it, its just constant. Like, you're so cute and he just wants to hug you all the time. He does try to control himself in public to avoid making you uncomfortable.

Children? Why? Isn't Yanqing enough?

✩ ‒ Blade

Some people still have a hard time understanding that you actually married him. In your opinion, they're small minded and don't actually know Blade. Blade, himself, doesn't actually care what anyone else thinks. Though, they should mind their manners around you.

Blade can be attentive, but doesn't always know how to help. He's got his own problems, so he usually tries to use them as a reference point. When he feels depressed or lost, what would he do? He tries to help you that way. It doesn't always work, but it does help him learn more and more.

He'll forget any special "couple" days are coming up. Kafka or Silver Wolf mention it and he's always confused about them. He will try to get you something just so you don't feel left out. "Oh my husband didn't get me anything because he doesn't care about today". Never.

Blade likes cuddles, but they hurt. He's got a lot of wounds on his body so he can't hold you the way he likes. Not to mention, the mara, his personal discomfort, lack of understanding. You assure him that it's ok, but he still feels guilty often. You deserve the world, but he can barely give you himself. He does try to hold your hand a lot. You both share the same bed and he sleep extremely close.

There's not many outdoor dates with him other than going on missions which aren't dates. Usually, you two train together and just spend time with one another. Blade is willing to attend an event with you... but he's attached to you. He doesn't know anyone there.

No children. He'd be a terrible dad, sorry.

✩ ‒ Luocha

Now aren't you two an interesting couple? Luocha has a way with words. He'll let potential flirters know he's married way before they can even start flirting with him. He won't even give them the time of day, especially if they're disrespectful toward you.

Of course he's attentive. He's great at recognizing your emotions and understanding what may or may not make it worse. For example, if he attends an event, he'll know what type of people might be too forward for you. Or may know when someone is beginning to make you upset.

Not a fan of those "couple days". He literally rolls his eyes at them, like why would he hold himself back to let it all out on that day? He's all over you, every day. BUT! He does get you a flower or a small box of chocolates... or something else in the bedroom. Idk.

Luocha likes to schedule dates per week so that you can clear up time for them. Just because you have a day off doesn’t mean it needs to be a date night. Maybe you want that day to yourself, who knows? He likes to find a day or two within the week dedicated to actually going out to a restaurant, a picnic, maybe fighting some baddies- who knows. Whatever works for both of y’all.

Luocha likes being close to you, whatever that means to you. He can hold you, hold your hand, just sit close by. Generally, he finds peace around you, so it doesn't matter what you two are doing as long as he can be close to you.

Uhh kids? Are you sure?

[pearlywritings]

The trace of you

synopsis: the marks you leave on your lover during your intimate moments

pairing: Ayato, Blade, Diluc, Jing Yuan, Kaveh, Neuvillette, Sampo, Wriothesley x fem!reader (separately)

tw: smutty, established relationship, marks, shibari, biting, implied sex, implied oral (both m! and f! receiving), collar, ABO elements, two dicks, handcuffs, scratching

word count: 5.6k+ words in total

Ayato

The head of the Kamisato clan lets his heavy lids slide closed while you are carefully untying the knots and unwrapping the ropes, abandoning the pieces of red braided strings at the foot of the bed. His limbs are pleasantly tingling and he does release a relieved sigh when he can finally stretch his legs to the curling of his toes. Cherry-like lips tug in a smile and thick lashes tremble when your palms cup his cheeks and you kiss each of his eyelids, murmuring a quiet apology for taking so long and promises of getting to rest soon. He murmurs something along the lines of everything being alright, that he doesn’t mind the hurry.

Yet when you kneel between his thighs to tend to the front of his torso, the man shakes his head and drops his forehead onto your shoulder, rolling his blades, hinting to his arms, still tied behind his back. You immediately usher him into your embrace, cheek pressed to his messy baby blue locks, fingers working on setting him free. Ayato inhales your scent, keening on the warmth and softness of your body, pressing light kisses to what skin he can reach in his hazy state. Despite being at someone else’s mercy, restricted, vulnerable - with you he feels safe.

As soon as all the ropes are undone and thrown away, you ease him onto his back, carefully moving his arms and legs to make him comfortable, to help him restore blood circulation. Somewhere in the process he must’ve fallen into slumber, because the next time he slowly blinks his eyes open, you are sitting by his side, dressed in nothing but a thin bathrobe, loosely tied and not properly held together, exposing your collarbones and some of your breasts.

“Husband,” it sounds a little old-fashioned, but Ayato loves when the term leaves your lips and is directed to him. “The bath is almost ready. Do you need another minute?”

Humming, he makes some attempts to move. He fists his hands, flexes his arms a little, tries to bend his legs in knees and lift his upper body to sit. Some are more successful than the others, but generally he’s established control over his own body again.

“Maybe just a couple more,” he sighs and lies onto his back again. Before he can say anything else, you are already crawling onto the bed to settle near him in order to rub and massage the parts of his body that were immobilized for quite some time. Your husband doesn’t stop you, only letting out groans and little moans when you apply pressure just right.

However soon your lack of any noises captures his attention and he finds your eyes trailing up and down his body, the tips of the fingers sometimes tracing the patterns on his skin. He quickly realizes why - the braided texture of the ropes imprinted their shape into his flesh. It doesn’t hurt, and it also didn’t, and thank Archons you do not look concerned. More like astonished.

“Something on your mind, wife?” The eyes he loves so much immediately dart to his face, blinking once and then crinkling a little in the corners from your soft smile.

“Nothing in particular. Just that the shibari aesthetic looks good on you even when the bondage is no longer here. Also, I am thankful for the opportunity to see you on the receiving end. I enjoyed that. Did you?”

“Mhm,” he mirrors your smile, “I did. Thank you.”

He pushes himself to sit up, reaching his hand to yours, locking fingers and then leaning forward to steal a sweet kiss from your lips. The more your lips meet, the clearer his head becomes, and by the tenth (maybe) kiss you shared he feels a surge of strength - just enough to get to the bathroom, where you two can thoroughly soak.

“I admit,” you begin, getting off the bed and offering him a hand for support, which he takes without hesitation, straightening in his full naked glory, giving you another opportunity to admire the patterns edged into his skin, “I didn’t understand before, why you loved it so much to watch me right after the ropes were gone from my body. Now I think I do. The marks they leave are truly marvelous.”

“Oh?” A teasing edge delves into his tone. “Do you imply we should practice it more often, my lovely wife?”

You chuckle, tugging on his wrist and leading him to the bathroom.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt, my dear husband.”

Blade

“Whatever you are doing - stop it,” he doesn’t want to open his eyes, the darkness behind his eyelids is soothing. He wants to rest, and the comforting weight of your body on top of his is welcomed (though he doesn’t admit it outloud), however your fingers, skimming over the expanse of his shoulders and the length of his neck disturb him.

“It isn’t fair,” in your voice he guesses displeasure. He feels you lightly dig your nails into the skin and scratch, as if this action will help you find something you’ve been looking for for a couple of minutes already. “It’s been only half an hour and they are gone already. And I tried extra hard today while biting you.”

Ah, that’s what it is all about. Fucking with Blade is…an experience. A rough, teeth-baring, primal, desperate experience. The one that always ends with breath stolen, legs shaking and many marks left. Only difference is that yours bloom for weeks while his heal in less than an hour.

“You looked very beautiful with my teeth imprinted into your skin,” you sigh, thumb running over his jaw. “Now they are all gone. That’s not fair, Blade.”

Possessing that self-healing ability isn’t fair, yet here is, breathing, living, even being involved with a woman… A very stubborn woman, he must say.

He curses when your teeth sink into the side of his neck, clamping down quite hard, jaws flexing for good measure to make the mark stay. His hand slides from the small of your back to your behind, squeezing a buttock in a silent warning. That’s enough for you to whine - flesh is still tender from the time he took you from behind, spanking your poor ass.

“I know, I know… What’s the point if this one won’t last too…” you sigh, looking at it to at least remember that you did put claim on him, even if only for a matter of minutes. Blade is silent, but his fingers relax.

Is he growing soft? Is it even possible? Or is it the fact that he’s just gotten comfortable with you enough to let many things you do slide? You do make it feel like an almost normal life. Which, given he cannot yet be put 9 feet underground, makes the existence more bearable. Even Kafka commented on it on multiple occasions and Silver Wolf rolled her eyes and huffed “stupid lovebirds” when you two simply walked into the room together…

And if you have a ‘lover’ you are supposed to heed their needs and desires, right?

Or why the hell is he doing this?

“...I think I have a solution for you,” you are startled when he finally speaks, staring at his face. He still has his eyes closed, but the hand returns to the small of your back, resting there.

“A solution? What solution?”

“Silver Wolf showed me that…trend.”

“Oh?” With every word that leaves his pale lips your curiosity grows, along with a tiny bit of disbelief at what your fellow Stellaron hunter is doing.

“Basically you bite a place on another person’s skin and the master is turning the indentation into a tattoo.”

“Blade…” you don’t recognize your own voice, so shocked you are right now. “Are you saying you’ll get a tattoo of my teeth mark on your skin?”

“...yes.”

“Anywhere? Even on your neck?”

“...” He doesn’t reply, but after a few seconds he nods. Positive.

“I… I…” you don’t know what to say. Instead you bury your face into his neck, shakily exhaling, still processing his offer. You don’t complain when he rolls you two onto your sides, putting one hand under his head and draping the other over your waist, spooning you.

“Sleep,” is all he says, putting his chin on top of your head.

We’ll talk about it tomorrow.

Diluc

“Good morning, handsome,” Diluc slightly shudders when your arms wrap around his bare waist and you push your cheek against his shoulder blade. You’ve just woken up and could not possibly resist the sight through the open bathroom door - your husband standing in front of the mirror, clad only in his black pants, with fluffy hair cascading down his back and him, clearly inspecting something in his reflection. 

“Good morning to you too, my flame,” his big hand easily envelopes the lock of yours and gives it a soft squeeze. “How did you sleep?”

“Amazing. You really loved that stress out of my system tonight,” you giggle, rubbing your nose against his skin, recalling the events from less than 7 hours ago. Of his big, strong body slamming yours into the bed after you teased him by simply kissing, licking and sucking all over his body for way too long. Anyone would’ve slept like a log after such an activity.

“I see,” there is an undertone in his voice that you easily recognize as a little pinch of pride for the good job he did, and you reach up to kiss the side of his jaw in appreciation. “Speaking of tonight, it seems you, my dear, were exceptionally passionate.”

“Whatever do you mean?” He slightly turns his head and behind the heavy crimson bangs you spot mischief in his flaming eyes. “‘Luc, what’s going on?”

“Look in the mirror and find out.”

Still clueless you follow his advice, redirecting your gaze… only to yelp when you see it.

“Oh my Archon! Diluc, does it hurt??” You release him from your hold and step around to make sure that the light or something didn’t trick you and you saw exactly what you saw. And you see exactly what you saw - an angry-looking trace of teeth, your teeth, circling around the man’s left nipple.

“Not really, but it is quite sensitive,” your husband admits as you are staring at the ‘damage’ you caused his poor chest during the foreplay. You really thought the bite wasn’t that hard! “Don’t worry too much, my flame. It’ll heal eventually.”

“You sure there is nothing to worry about?” Your eyes, full of concern, play the most tender strings of his heart. At the same time Diluc can’t get why you are being so worked up over a love bite. Besides, Ragnvindr is a forward man - if he didn’t like it he would’ve voiced so, and you, having spent so much time with him, still tend to forget that sometimes.

“I am sure. It’s not that different from the marks I leave on you. And you don’t worry about them, right?”

You look at the bite again, acknowledging his words and realizing that if your initial reaction is thrown out of the window you quite admire how beautiful the red indentation contrasts against his pale skin.

“Right. You know, it actually looks very good.”

“It does. Because it’s yours,” your face heats at such lewdly blatant truth, to which the redhead simply smiles, grabbing your chin between his fingers and drawing you closer for a kiss. Your palms slide up his shoulders and around his neck, while his unoccupied one grips your waist, pushing your body flash to his. Unexpectedly you jump, but he readily brings both hands under your butt to help you settle onto his hips. With a slither of relief you note that Diluc doesn’t wince, doesn’t even crease his eyebrows when your chests collide, but the thought is quickly forgotten as he kisses you even deeper.

He breaks away only when he is sitting on the edge of the bed with you on his lap. The man loves the blissful expression on your face, the sight of your night clothes sliding down one of the shoulders, baring his own marks (not as teethy as yours, but still quite prominent and pretty). You are the image of serenity, and he is glad he succeeded in giving you a peace of mind.

“I want to be the one to put a shirt on you today,” you suddenly say, palms softly smoothing over the wideness of his pectorals, mindful of the area around his left nipple. “You tend to be rough with your movements. I can do it more gently.”

Yeah, sure, or more like gawk at the bite while busy with buttons, now that concern is out of the picture. But Diluc doesn’t let you know he is aware of your intention - as he said, it is yours, thus you have full right to do so.

Jing Yuan

Most times your husband reminds you of his very pet. Big, imposing, with thick mane of hair and a pleased cat-like smile. Especially in the moments of rest, when he practically turns into a lion himself, grayish locks all let down and cascading down his back, eyes lazily closed and a serene expression overtaking his face as your fingers gently touch him, eliciting pleasurable groans and sighs out of him.

“Glad you are not mad at me,” he perks at your words, opening just one eye, and regarding you - sitting on his thighs, with hot water reaching up to your waist and hands carefully rubbing something into his neck. You look positively glowing, with hickies blooming on your chest and shoulders and that concentrated look in your pretty eyes.

“Why would I be mad at you, beloved?” Big hand that rests on your hip gives it a small squeeze and the other one comes to support his cheek as he closes his eyes again. “Don’t you think everything is perfect? We made love, got to relieve some stress in the process and now we are relaxing in a bath. Don’t know about you, but I enjoyed every second of it, and having your body on top of me right now is all that I need.”

“Of course, I enjoyed every second of it,” humming, you lean down to press small kisses to his eyelids and the general’s smile gets wider. “And I am thankful that you entertained my desire to try something new. I just wish my actions didn’t leave such marks on your neck.”

“They are subtle, no? And it doesn’t hurt, I promise. Though I am not going to lie, I like the feeling of your hands treating it.”

You huff a chuckle, scooping a new portion of ointment to gently apply on reddish lines on his skin - the places where the collar’s edges dug a little too harshly into his neck. Tonight it’s been especially steamy - your husband delegated you the control in bed through agreeing to be put on a leash and perform any of your commands by a tug of it. And Aeons, was he great at that - burying his face into your pussy until he barely could take a breather, arching his back as you pulled on the leash while your mouth was decorating his chest with hickies, but also going absolutely feral as you drew him closer as he was pounding into you from behind, growling and moaning your name, practically crushing you with his weight, but he knew you liked it.

“Yuan,” he hums, not opening his eyes, but turning his ear to you, “you’ve done such a marvelous job for me. Do you want any special treatment in return?”

“Oh?” To that he is intrigued, finally showing you both of his golden orbs, lifting his head and putting his second palm on your other hip. “I’m honored, but you are my wife. If I wasn’t doing a marvelous job for you every day I would be undeserving of calling myself your husband.”

“And yet I want to give you extra treatment,” satisfied with the look of his neck, reddish lines slowly paling, you lower your hands to clean them, giving the man an opportunity to get closer and bury his face into your chest, happily rubbing his cheek against your breast, arms now loosely wrapped around your waist.

“Then I want you to cockwarm me while we sleep.”

“But we do that almost every night, silly,” your fingers run through his wet hair, twitching as his hips rock into yours and water splashes a little. “It’s no special treatment.”

“Hmm… If that’s the case, then I’d love to - only if you are okay with that - if we get you a matching collar. I am simply curious how you’d look wearing it,” he looks up at you, chin resting between your breasts and eyes bearing a question in them. “Would it be alright?”

“It would,” you duck your head down and peck his forehead, earning yourself a deep purr. Oh how surprised he is going to be when you tell him that his collar and leash came in a set of two, specifically for couples…

You can’t wait to match marks with your husband.

Kaveh

The blond architect has long since learned of your lack of shame. To a man who has a hard time saying ‘no’ this trait is admirable and quite helpful when you are not afraid to put exceptionally fastidious clients of his in their place with a sharp tongue of yours. To a man who enjoys a good laugh and seeing any emotion on Alhaitham’s face rather than smugness he loves your impudence and shooting the scholar down with highly inappropriate yet witty remarks. To a man who feels like he is falling apart it’s important that you take matters into your own hands to spoil him way more when necessary, extending this to the bedroom.

And that’s where your shameless nature get to him.

“Please tell me you are done staring,” Kaveh doesn’t know where to escape from your appreciative gaze. The position definitely doesn’t help - with you resting on your stomach with an elbow planted onto the mattress and a palm supporting your chin, while your other hand’s fingers dance across the expanse of his spread thighs. Thighs, that are naked like the rest of him. And you too.

“But songbird,” you smile, smoothing a thumb over one of the blooming hickies decorating his inner thighs, “you are very pretty like this. Makes me want to give you a blowjob.”

“Y/n..!” The man blushes profusely, pressing the back of his hand to his quivering lips. It doesn’t escape your attention, however, how his semi-hard cock twitches.

“You’ve worked so hard this past week - give yourself a day off, sweety. And I’ll get to keep you in bed, making you feel so good and satisfied…”

“B-but what if one of my clients asks for a meeting today-”

“Then they can go to the Abyss,” you huff, moving your face closer, placing a tender kiss to his knee, starting a slow travel to his thigh. “You are the architect in high demand… you have the right to handle your schedule however you see fit.”

“Mmm,” his head falls back and jaw goes slack in a breathy moan as your lips caress his marked skin. Once reaching the hip bone you plant a firmer kiss there and draw back a little, only to repeat the same path from his other knee.

“Come on, Kaveh. You and I know you are tired and deserve some rest. And pampering. Tonight was hardly enough to meet all your needs. Your body is still so tense. I want you to be as malleable as the clay you work so much with…”

Done with another trail of kisses, you lift your upper body, pulling yourself up, so your chest rests against his pelvis, making him take a sharp inhale through gritted teeth. If you continue with your leisurely teasing, he sure is to pop a boner. Right between your breasts.

“So?” You inquire, reaching a hand up, cupping his flushed cheek, making those eyes that remind you of mourning flower’s petals so much meet yours. “Are you staying home with me? Are you letting me take care of you, kiss your lips, make you moan, have your cock nestled between my walls? Pretty please?”

Your offer is hard to resist. You are hard to resist. Looking up at him from between his spread legs, all bare and gorgeous, with hair being a little mess and lips a bit swollen from the make out session you had upon waking up. With your palms so light and gentle, one holding his face and the other running up and down his side, thumb counting each rib. With your words - so loving, yet shameless, luring him into your embrace, into receiving everything you are eager to give him.

And he is eager too.

“Yes…” He breathes out, bringing his hand up, wrapping his artistic fingers around yours and turning his head to plant a kiss to your palm.

“Yes to everything?” You clarify, your other palm settling on his hip.

“Mhm… But can we shower and have breakfast first, please?”

“Everything for you, sunshine,” with a wide grin, quite proud of yourself for convincing him, you push your body up and get onto your knees. Kaveh exhales and releases your hand from his hold, sitting straighter to close his legs and throw them over the edge of the bed. Already with your back to him you suddenly hear a small whine of discomfort.

“Another thing, love,” the architect’s brows are pinched together when you glance at him from over your shoulder, “no more marks on my thighs. Please.”

Neuvillette

Content growling is resonating off the walls in the vast dark room. One soft and gratifying, the other deep and satisfied, they rumble in your and your lover’s throats, blending into a marvelous primal melody. Hands - big, clawed and covered in scales of royal blue cradle your face in a tender hold, lavender eyes, brimmed with adoration, look into yours and it feels like you are the only thing that exists in this world.

These moments of clarity are nice and warm, and serve as a reminder, that you are here not only to satisfy your bestial needs, but to be one as lovers, as mated for life. The male’s lengths twitch between your walls when your nose pushes into the freshly bitten mating mark on his neck, a similar one is on the side of yours. You claimed each other long ago, centuries have passed, but every time your heat or his rut begins, this euphoric feeling of having each other’s teeth clamping on that particular patch of skin is unmatched and reminds of the very first time.

Neuvillette shudders when your tongue laps on the bruised skin and closes his eyes, panting, burning under your mouth despite your cryo nature. You purr, reaching to glide your fingers over the length of his beautiful horns - the ones you tenderly kissed hours ago, to show your husband your appreciation of his dragon features, to lure him into your embrace, to beg him to satisfy the ache in your heart and between your legs, because your heat has started.

“You are gorgeous, my love,” you sigh against his neck, free hand roaming over his chest, feeling its firmness, caressing the scales. “I am so lucky to have such a caring and devoted mate.”

“I am the lucky one,” the man smiles - you know he does. And you know, that despite everything, he preens from your praise and compliments. “You are divine from head to toe and I forever shall treasure you.”

“And I forever shall treasure you.”

Exchanging sweet declarations of love, you cuddle some more, nuzzling your noses against each other, sharing deep and meaningful kisses, holding hands and wondering if you should take a proper break before the next set of rounds.

The Hydro dragon digs his claws into your hip when you draw away, his cocks slipping out of your pussy. He lets his eyes stray to the many marks he left on your neck, breasts, hips and even thighs, as you sit up and stretch. The arch of your back is mesmerizing and he is quickly reminded of the ways it can bend whenever he is thrusting into you. So tender and delicate, you writhe into his arms and then, when he least expects it…

You surge forward and bite onto his neck.

Neuvillette moans and that’s the prettiest sound to you. It makes you want to devour him whole, to kiss all over his body - over all the marks you’ve given him and the bare skin too, to bite and lick, as you make your way down his body, until one of his lengths rests heavy onto your tongue.

But by the looks of it, it seems that your lover has the opposite idea, since he’s already pouncing onto you, pinning you to the bottom of your nest and slotting himself between your legs.

“Will you claim me again, my love?” His eyes and horns are gleaming and you can’t take your eyes off of him, And as you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer, making the heads of his cocks slip between your folds, leaning his face into your neck as you bury yourself into his, there is only one answer.

“Oh, darling… Only if you claim me once again as well.”

Sampo

“I told you it was a bad idea,” the man gasps when you softly hit his head with the side of your palm. “When I said ‘Sampo, get us handcuffs to try something new in bed’ I meant the soft fluffy ones used specifically for sex, not the metal ones!”

“Sorry…” he whines, raising a hand to rub the top of his stupid head, but you quickly catch his fingers, bringing them back to your lap.

“Sampo, let me finish with your wrists first. Honestly… And you tugged so harshly on them, no wonder there are marks left. I hope they won’t bruise…”

“Aww, you worry about me,” your lover coos with the intention to tease you, but deep down he doesn’t deny that he is happy to hear that. You sigh, rubbing the ointment (you farsightedly got from Natasha) into his skin to soothe the pulsing aching from hours spent in the metal wraps.

“Yeah, yeah, I do. But I am too an idiot, should’ve at least thought of putting some fabric in-between.”

“Hey, you are not an idiot,” he resents, nudging your shoulder with his. “I know an idiot when I see one.”

“Looking into the mirror?”

“Hey!”

You chuckle softly. Sampo watches you with a surprisingly calm look on his face, pout quickly dissolving and lips drawing into a small smile. You were right on that one - it was very stupid of him. However, he was running late to your meeting with all the things that needed to be done in the Overworld, and he didn’t have time to get the goods, but at the same time he didn’t want to disappoint you with empty hands. He is glad that those were used on him and not you. Partly because he wouldn’t want your pretty wrist to hurt, partly because he thoroughly enjoyed his submission to you.

You can’t really blame him for tugging too much - how could he stay stiff when your walls clenched so deliciously as you rode him and your breasts were jiggling right before his face - he wanted to grab! Generally he can’t keep his hands away from you, and it goes beyond the things happening in the bedroom. It’s your own fault for being so alluring!

“Next time I’ll get you the ones you want. Sampo Koski’s word!”

You tear your gaze from inspecting the work you’ve done and look at him. When it came to you, there was no doubt the indigo-haired male fulfilled his promises (not always accurately like this time, but he saw things through in the end). However there is another implication that occupies you…

“Oh? Does it mean you’d like to try that again?”

“Huh? Have you really not noticed how much I was enjoying all of this?” Sampo looks at you as if you grew a second head. Were you not watching him the whole time his dick was in your pussy!?

“No, no, I have! I was just unsure if you'd like to be cuffed again,” you hurry to reassure him, waving your hands in front of you. “You know, with Silvermane guards always chasing you and trying to capture you…”

“You are adorable,” he muses, freeing his hands from your careful grasp and grabbing your hips to drag you onto his lap, playing with the hem of your sleeping gown. “It doesn’t bother me in the slightest. After all, they’ll never catch me - this right is reserved only for you.”

“Wow, such a romantic guy,” his cheeks flare when you giggle - a sound too pure and heart-fluttering, and he lets you settle on top of him as he falls onto his back and reaches for the covers. That was surely a pleasurably draining night. You two should get some rest.

As he turns the nightstand lamp off and the room sinks into darkness, you get comfortable under the blanket, snuggling closer to a big warm body. Sampo is silly and an ass sometimes, but it’s hard to be mad at him for long, when he treats you to the things you want. Oh, that reminds you…

“By the way, where did you get those handcuffs?”

“...borrowed Gepard Landau’s personal pair?”

“...”

“...”

“SAMPO!”

Wriothesley

“For how long are you going to sulk and weep for my back? It’s not like I am dying,” Wriothesley turns his head to glance at you over his shoulder and sees what he’s expected to see - your knitted eyebrows, eyes practically screaming “oh no, I am the worst person in the world”, lips pressed into a tight line… That’s definitely not the look he wanted to see on his wife’s face after having sex with her.

“I am so sorry, Wrio…” you say for probably the tenth time, - he lost count in the very beginning, - your tone so miserable and quiet. “I didn’t think my nails were that long to scratch you to blood. And over your scars too…”

“I’ve already told you, I am not dyi- gh,” a hiss escapes him when a peroxide-soaked cotton ball touches a particularly sensitive place. He feels your hand flinch and he almost groans. You worry too much for him sometimes.

“I am fine. Besides, I think it’s actually pretty hot. Means I fucked you good enough for you to cling to me for dear life.”

“Wriothesley!” He lets out a throaty chuckle as you lightly hit his shoulder. “I am being serious right here! You know I don’t like when you end up hurt…” you huff, soaking a new ball to tend to another red line running down his wide back. “And this time I am the one who hurt you…”

“It felt good though, baby. I wouldn’t have even thought much of it, if you hadn’t jumped out of the bed after seeing the marks you’ve given me. But I must admit - watching you run around the room naked… That was sexy.”

“Wrio,” you whine in embarrassment, having little desire to be reminded of your debauched state in that moment of panic. Even now you are still bare, sitting behind your equally undressed husband and cleaning up the last of the ten angry-looking red lines.

“Don’t be shy,” sensing that you are done, he turns to face you properly and reaches a hand to cup your cheek. “I shall wear the marks my wife gave me with pride, right?” He leans to press a kiss to the corner of your lips and that makes you smile. “In fact, tomorrow - or rather today, given it’s almost 1 am, I’m going to fight in the ring with my shirt off.”

“YOU WHAT!?” He was ready for your shocked exclamation, grabbing your hips, and pulling into his lap, silencing your rising outrage with a firm kiss. He smirks at the little moan, swallowing it with his mouth, burying his fingers in your hair to keep you where he wants you to be - with knees planted on both sides of his hips, making out with him.

“Just imagine that,” a hoarse whisper against your lips sends a shudder down your spine, “everyone would know that my woman has perfect claws and that she doesn’t hesitate to mark what belongs to her.”

“Everyone would think I am abusing my husband,” you mutter, trying to ignore how his teeth graze down your neck, until he exhales in discontent.

“You are still thinking you hurt me? Fine, that means I hurt you first,” suddenly your world turns upside down and here you are, back pressed to the mattress with his burly figure hovering over yours.

“Wh-hat do you mean?” 

“You clawed to my back only because I was pounding into your pussy roughly, right?” Your eyes bulge in your sockets at his shameless words, and mouth falls open in a gasp when he slides down your body, spreading your legs. “I bet the poor thing is all aching… Should I kiss it better?”

“Wrio- ooooh!”

[pedge-page]

Daddies, Daddies, Daddies

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: you're marrying your fiance, but your mind is already on banging his father

Warnings: infidelity, unprotected sex, step dad, father in law, Daddy kink and I'm choosing not to specify more tags as they are spoilers. Read at your own discretion

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Even as you say your vows to your soon to be husband, his and your smiles beaming of future endeavors, you can't help but glance towards his impeccably handsome dad, and you're soon to be father in law. You had a thing for broad chested, soft tummied, grey speckled dilfs, and this hunk was no exception.

Yes, you love your man to be, but getting to know his family...intimately was part of the whole marriage package too. Can you blame a woman? And the way his bulge practically waved at you through those tight slacks so prettily, begging you to take a seat on your new papa in laws lap had you swaying with excitement. Heat filled your core as you grinned and held hands with your fiance. He's rambling about his promises and devotion, but your brain is too focused on what his dad's plump lips will feel lie devouring your little cunt while everyone else will be too busy getting food at the reception.

He had been eying you the entire engagement. From the moment you were introduced, his gaze traveled to your cleavage and ass before settling on your lips and shaking his hand.

It beyond amazes you he hasn't taken the next step, so far going no further than his hand grazing your lower back and prolonged hugs where youe tits pressed against his chest. He teased you for months without saying anything, but maybe he's even sluttier than you are: waiting for you to be taken before he can make a new claim. You sucking on your tongue at the image of getting railed in his powder room during Sunday lunches at your in laws house, or giving him a "tour" of your bedroom with his thick member pulsing in your mouth when they come over for Thanksgiving.

You couldn't wait to add that old man's cock to your pussy list.

"I do!" You say right on cue, and the two of you seal your kiss of matrimony with a racous applause.

After the ride to the reception hall, a bunch of hugs and warm welcomes, you're so close to getting your hands on your new daddy, so close to introducing him to his new sweet little cunt he's gonna make a happy future in, when your step dad yanks you right out of the hall and into the restroom.

"Daddy!" You shout, surprised by his grip.

"What? Thought you were gonna give everyone else some attention but your old man?" Joel tuts, tracing his rough lips across the smooth expanse od your exposed shoulders. "Or did you think you were gonna give some of my pussy away to your new daddy?"

"You're not my old man," you clarify, but you don't stop his familiar touch over your body.

He chuckles. His hands settle along your waist protectively. "You're my little girl as far as everyone else is concerned today. I'm the only daddy who showed up to give ya away didn't i? S'okay. Just like you, I didn't mean shit up there either."

You sigh, melting a bit as he presses a wet kiss to your pulse point.

"Thought you were gonna be done with me even after you got married? Gonna get a new daddy cock to ride every morning to work? Eric, that's his dad's name right? Saw ya eyin him all durinf the ceremony. Little slut, cant even say i do to a man ya marrying before drooling about his daddys dick? Yeah. Honey, he couldn't handle you like I do. Neither of em."

He smirks in the mirror as he licks your cheek with a fat strip, side eying the way your eyes get hazy in the mirror. His hands slope down your chest to cup your breasts in that gorgeous wedding dress he helped you decide on. The one that gives just the right amount of appropriate yet subtle sexiness. He squeezes the plumpness of your tits before pulling the corset line down, your titties falling free for his large palms to knead while you gasp.

"Stop thinking about getting another daddy cock in this pussy. You got one right here--" he pushes his bulge further into your ass, forcing you to grip the sink and hold yourseld from falling forward-- "right here, baby doll, to give ya everything you need. Never had a complaint not wantin my cock, did ya?"

You smirk drunkly, shaking your head. "No daddy. I love this cock."

Joel kisses the shell of your ear before unbuckling his belt and hoisting the skirt of your dress up.

You gasp when he slides his hardened length along your already soaked folds.

"How about we start working on that baby you were always wanting, huh? You been beggin me for it, told ya gotta wait till you're married. Even your In law daddy Eric mentioned he couldn't wait for ya to get round with grand babies. How bout that? He n i got somethin in common already."

He slides in, forcing your walls to part to accommodate his intrusion.

Joel sets a low pace, gripping your hip tightly as he ruts into your ass with fat slaps, his cock getting sucked right in with each thrust "Except this pussy. He ain't touching this sweet little precious cunt. Shit doll, youre soaking wet just thinking bout old man cock today, huh? Yeah, don't you worry baby. Your step daddy gonna get that baby in ya sooner than you know it. Gonna provide everything ya need. Won't need to go to your new family's side for nothin. We can keep everything exactly how it is."

- - - -

Taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda

[vetitiscripta]

Can you do sfw and nsfw headcanons for btd 2 ren? I love him so much he’s my underrated short king🦊

btd2 ren my beloved. ask and you shall receive anon (i might add more to this later but this is what i have for now)

sfw

this man is the clingiest motherfucker ever. in the beginning, you can't walk from room to room without ren being on your heels. it was a new experience for him and he wanted to know all about you! now, though, his clinginess comes in the form of holding you too tightly when laying with you, tracing his name onto your skin with his finger, and telling you how much he loves you about 20 times a day. it's suffocating to be honest, but you would rather ren be clingy than be mad

speaking of mad, he doesn't get mad at you often. you've learned well enough in your time with him that making him mad was not a fun thing to do. ren may be small but he knows how to fight or to at least knock you down enough to remind you who’s really in charge. but there's not really a need for that nowadays since you are so well behaved! he makes comments all the time of you two being the ideal relationship (you find yourself agreeing with him sometimes. maybe he's not so bad after all)

loves taking baths with you. it's probably the thing he looks forward to the most. there's just something so intimate about it that he loves so much. maybe it's the scented soaps and shampoos going to his head or the heat of the water. maybe its the way you fit so nicely against him and he gets to hold you close (there's not enough room, don't look at him like that!). sometimes he can convince you to let him wash your hair and the way you look at him as he's running his fingers through your hair is enough to make him die from happiness

50/50 on being the big spoon or little spoon. there are days where he wants nothing more than to hold you, face buried in your neck as his tail lays over you like a blanket. but there are also days where he wants to be held himself. those tend to be the days where everything floods back to him, the memories of when he was in your shoes. sometimes he just needs a reminder that he's okay now, that he's better now ("better")

he likes to win your affection with little things here and there. small things he picks up for you while out, letting you choose what anime to watch that night, but his go to is to cook for you. we can't deny that ren is an amazing cook and he knows it. you cook as well, but ren tends to cook most nights. he likes cooking and he loves it when you help him. but if he's trying to woo you (or to maybe erase some anger you feel towards him) he'll whip up your favorite meal and maybe even light a few candles

JEALOUS OF LITERALLY ANYTHING! showing more attention to the plant he got you last week? it mysteriously dies a few days later (he poured glass cleaner into its pot). mentioned liking a specific actor/actress from a show? the tv has parental locks the next day to restrict that show. all your attention belongs to him and should be on him! nothing else! (sometimes you find it cute how jealous he gets and will go out of your way to make him jealous, but don't tell him that)

he's still trying to find his place in this entire thing. strade's gone now, but ren can't deny that he feels like he's missing something. like there's a gaping hole in his chest that's longing to be filled. you filled that hole, but you don’t fit it perfectly, there are still gaps here and there. because of this, he's not afraid to experiment on you. you wake up in the basement more than you would like, ren looming over you with a smile on his face but an almost empty look in his eyes. he's thinking, calculating what he'll do. the sessions always end with tears streaming down your face and ren understanding a little better where he fits in

nsfw (under the cut)

horny 24/7. cannot keep his hands to himself. you'll be watching tv together and then ren's hand is on your thigh- ok normal enough. and then it starts moving slowly upwards and your breath hitches when his hand finds the waistband of your pants. he teases you first, messing with the band and drawstrings, nails grazing the skin just below the band. he's not even looking at you, or at least you don't notice the sneaky glances he throws your way before turning back to the tv. but that doesn't last long as he can't take it anymore himself and throws himself at you right there on the couch

ren's big on eye contact. he wants you to watch him as he goes down on you. if you look away or close your eyes, his nails dig into your thighs hard enough for little beads of red to form. your attention belongs on him at all times, especially when sharing an intimate act. he expects you to keep eye contact when you go down on him as well. he doesn't care if his cock is in your throat and you're trying not to gag. he'll pull your hair hard enough for tears to form in your eyes

likes to roleplay every so often. his favorites are anime specific ones and maid/master. he loves it when you dress up for him, especially if it's in these big, frilly dresses or skirts (doesn't matter your gender, he loves to see it). he likes having you pretend to do something, only for him to come up behind you, sneak his hands under your skirts and mess with you. likes taking your attention away from your task and putting it on him

ren hates having to punish you but he loves the act of it. when he punishes you, he gets to do whatever he wants! punishments tend to be in the basement and he tends to get just a little heated every so often with them. your tear streaked face just does something to him and most of the time punishments end with his cock either in your mouth or with him fucking you

doesn't shut up while having sex. if he's not whimpering then he's moaning in your ear. if he's not moaning then he's talking to you, telling you how good you are, how great you feel. if he's not talking than he's whimpering