#cause when it's night and you need to get out without making noise you need to remember where everything is without turning lights on

[ashensamurai]

yeah!!! this is all very important. damn, if i had seen this years ago, i wouldn't have had to learn it myself. can personally confirm that all of this is very very accurate, you guys said all of the stuff I can really think of already, so I don't even have any other tips to add.

hey so protip if you have abusive parents and need to get around the house as quietly as possible, stay close to furniture and other heavy stuff because the floor is settled there and it’s less likely to creak

[shotmrmiller]

size difference where the one afraid to fuck you is simon. he thinks you soft. which is what you are. soft. fragile. small.

you're not like him. nothing like the guys. battle-scarred. muscles carved by relentless missions, scars that speak of duty.

your skin divots under his fingers, yielding to his weathered touch and if he squeezes hard enough, you'll have marks by morning. (he needs to be careful, he can't hurt you, won't—)

and so simon watches you touch yourself in the beginning, clever fingers swirling over your slippery clit with practiced movements even though his cock is straining against his trousers painfully. he can hear you mewl his name through bitten lips and it takes all of his self control to not tug his jeans off, slot himself between your spread, inviting thighs and push— stretch open your fluttering walls, so hot and slick, until he meets resistance, until he can push no more but—

he can't. you'd hurt. and he'd hurt because he hurt you. he won't.

after, when your eyes are heavy lidded, mouth slightly parted in exertion, you remind him that you aren't made of glass. that you won't break. you'll shatter— in the way you do when his tongue replaces your fingers— but not break.

"not a virgin either, for christ's sake," you groan.

maybe he's thinking too hard about it. he knows your teeth have edges, knows your bite is swift when deserved. but all he's truly good at is making things give. biology made it so with his bulky frame and raw mass.

his eyes trace the contour of your collarbone. delicate. then it darts to the pulse on your wrist. vital. his hands, the size of dinner plates don't coax. they demand. he'd snap you like a twig, leaving nothing but splintered remains in his wake.

you don't seem to mind, however. it slightly alarms him. where's your self-preservation? do you enjoy pain? is this some masochistic thing?

he looks at you, all glassy eyed and dewy skinned (ethereal; you're practically glowing under the soft light of the full moon that paints the room silver) and he thinks of how it's going to take work to make it work. his cock is large (he's seen the guys' eyes pop out of their heads in the showers once they caught a glimpse of what's between his legs) but you're persistent in the end. one too many nights of having him without having him.

he understands. simon knows better than most what it's like to yearn. to want and not have. he'd cause you pain by not giving in, and cause pain by giving in. damned if he does, damned if he doesn't.

so he caves. promises to go slow. careful.

"i can take it," you bravely say but he's barely pressing himself to your entrance and you're already making noises that tug at his pathetic little heart. the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip-- you look so pretty, how'd a twisted creature like him get someone like you to come home to-- as his cock fills you has him feeling lightheaded. it takes every ounce of self control to not sink into your heat, to hook your legs around his thick waist and let gravity do the rest.

an unsteady hand weaves its way down to your stuffed cunt, fingers splitting into a vee, feeling how he splits your puffy lips, and the view makes him buck his hips involuntarily.

his hands tighten around your calves when you keen, a high pitched noise that swells the lust he feels burning white hot at the base of his spine, tips of his fingers, deep within his loins. he feels ready to burst.

and he's only halfway in.

your voice cuts through the ringing in his ears. "m-more, simon, c'mon," the n is low and drawn out.

his fingers bite into your flesh as he pushes slow, oh so slowly, until your vise-like cunt envelops him completely. the sibilant hiss you let out makes his hair stand on end. (shame pricks at his nerves like a thousand tiny needles when his cock twitches at the sound of your slightly pained moans)

simon doesn't move, feeling your swollen walls around his cock ripple, tighten and slacken, like it's got a pulse of its own. he could be here, in you, cock deep in paradise for the rest of time.

"fuck me," you warble out, hand rubbing your swollen clit to well up the pleasure that's being smothered by the searing pang of discomfort.

when simon cants his hips back, he watches his cock come out of you, glistening with slick. his jaw aches from how hard he's clenching it. control. got to keep it slow, gentle. slow, simon, slow, slow--

"harder."

he feels the sudden sharp sting of your nails and jerks forward in surprise, filling you completely in one fast movement.

your moan this time is needy, thick with want, arousal dripping from your voice as it does your pussy, coating him in creamy white, a frothy ring at the root.

simon can see the barest of bumps below your navel, or maybe he's seeing things, your hot cunt putting him in a state of delirium but the way you take all of his cock and continue to beg for more, beg him to fuck you like he means it even though he's twice if not thrice your size well...

you'll just have to forgive him on the finger-shaped bruises they're going to be on your body after.

(you'd looked so cheeky before he flipped you onto your knees, grabbing onto your delicate neck like a lifeline as he pulled your hips to meet his. you'd taken him easier here, cunt sodden with slick but the angle had him reaching a devastating depth no one else could ever dream of reaching and even though it'd sprung tears to the corners of your eyes at the pinch, "mama ain't raise no bitch.")

[gghostwriter]

Time Gave No Compass, Were There Clues?

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times fate brings you to cross paths with a certain handsome stranger and the one time he purposely crosses with yours Trope:It’s fluff in a meet cute type of way w.c: 5.6k+ a/n: this is connected to ‘One Single Thread of Gold’! This took forever to make simply because I had this fear that the second part wouldn’t come out as great as the first and I’ve been in a writing funk lately—not quite sure if my writing worsened or got better during this period but at this point, maybe I shouldn’t care that much anymore? That’s a lie so please comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

The first encounter—a knight in a vintage blue vehicle

The drumming noise of the rain against the vinyl awning of the Japanese restaurant became the perfect soundtrack for watching countless strangers scurry to the nearest shelter.

It was the night that you have dubbed your unluckiest as a woman in Washington—up until he came along.

According to the morning weather forecast, there was little to no chance of rain. A radiant reprieve from the downpour of light rainfall the city had been experiencing three days in a row. A believer of facts you were, excitedly slipped on your new pair of heels and joined the outside world, sun shining up above the sky without a single speck of dark cloud lingering in its wake.

The work day was nothing special—jumping on video calls with your boss, answering international emails from the magazine’s sister branches abroad, and reviewing articles set to be published for next month’s print.

Nothing unusual. No sign that the day would roller coaster down and up again, before ending right before a drop, leaving you white knuckled with anticipation.

As you were exiting the diner with your freshly cooked to-go in one hand, the weather decided to beat the statistics presented by the news forecast. Rain poured down hard, effectively stranding you on the covered sidewalk.

“Oh,” you mumbled under your breath, forced to settle down on the empty outdoor seating. The gust of cold wind that caressed your cheeks to turn pink reminded you of comforting childhood memories—warm cocoa, blanket forts, and cuddles with your precious teddy bear. 

It brought a smile on your face, recalling the time when life was still simple.

Working as a writer for an established fashion magazine had its own ups and downs. You felt lucky enough to be given the opportunity to work with living and breathing artists, all the while having the flexibility to live anywhere in the country.

Your boss initially found it odd when you mentioned temporarily moving back to Washington. It wasn’t a state well-established in the industry after all. It was a city filled with starched pressed suits, neutral ties, and newly shined loafers—the epicenter for politics and everything serious. 

The ridiculous misconception about fashion and its frivolousness caused your nose to scrunch. It was the same idea that pushed newly graduate you to move to New York and burn the midnight oil to be where you were now, highly respected in the circle.

She understood your truth—the need for a change of scenery before jumping back in to the game with fresh new eyes. Jokingly, she wagered you’d only last two months away from the Big Apple before coming back. It had been six months since then and you were starting to believe the urge for the city that never sleeps will never cross your mind again.

As you mused about the trajectory of your career, the clouds started to let up, enough that you took the chance to open your compact umbrella and possibly ruin your heels to get to the nearest subway entrance just 10 minutes away.

A mistake that you realized halfway as a sudden blast of strong wind flipped your umbrella inside out, rending you vulnerable to the hasty returning rain.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath as water started to stain your light purple satin heels, turning them near black.

Definitely ruined.

The flickering light of the entrance and the still warm spot underneath the restaurant pulled you in two different directions. Should you just brave the weather already starting to look like a drowned animal or should you go back with your tail tucked between your legs?

As you debated your next move, being poorly protected by your broken umbrella and soaked by the tormenting weather no less, a blue vintage car came to a stop beside you and honked it’s horn.

“Um—do you need help? A ride, maybe?” a voice shouted out of the rolled down passenger window, barely heard against the torrential downpour.

A good Samaritan was rare this day and age. So uncommon that it made you immediately wary. You looked around, making sure it was you the stranger was addressing before uttering a reply.

“Depends on who’s asking,” your free hand clutching the ends of your spoiled umbrella. “Are you a serial killer by any chance?” 

He paused, caught off guard with your question, and chuckled. “What? No, no. Not at all, just a concerned citizen.”

You bit your lip, wavering between accepting his offer at the risk of your life, before reaching to open the passenger door. “Fair enough.”

The stranger promptly layered a black windbreaker on the tan leather seats. “Sorry, it’s just—did you know that wet leather can lead to discoloration?”

Your eyebrows raised, shuffling to get comfortable on the seat—mindful of your back not touching, before giving him a nod. “Yes, actually I did but it’s great to see someone else know about it too.”

He pressed his lips together into a tight smile and reached forward on the console, tinkering with the unlabeled knobs, turning up the heat. 

Your eyes tracked his every movement, curious as to any indication to who this mysterious gentleman was.

His nails were light pink in color, clean, and cut short—possibly for a desk office job. His fingers were long and bony, model length you’d surmise—a little calloused on one side of his middle finger possibly from holding a pen too tight. The back of his hand veined and wide in size, big enough to dwarf your dainty slim hands in comparison.

Your cheeks heated up, feeling guilty for gawking at a man’s hands before spilling your address without so much of a thought for your safety.

The stranger blanched, clearly caught off guard with your trusting nature. “Didn’t your mother teach you not to go with strangers willingly? Or provide vital information about yourself for that matter?”

You appraised his profile as his eyes trained on the road. 

Hazel colored hair that curled around his face. Sunken eyes framed by long, dark lashes that any woman could envy. A tall and straight nose bridge. Maroon pillowy lips and a sharp jawline perfectly matched with a five-o’clock shadow.

He was handsome.

Pretty even.

The type you’d see a casting agent and photographer fawn over.

Shoulders seemingly angular and wide, stretching his black knitted cardigan well. It’s arms pushed up to showcase his forearms lithe in form with muscles flexing underneath as he twists the wheel to take a right. His seat pushed the farthest it could go, highlighting how tall he could be.

Your handsome gentleman could rival male models that graced your magazine’s editorial pages.

“Well, you don’t look like a serial killer and I think I’d take my chances with you than out there—” a flash of lightning trailed on the darkened sky followed by a loud clap of thunder. “—yeah, I stand with my choice.”

His laughter mid-pitched, filled the confined space. “And how does a serial killer look like?”

“Sinister and not trustworthy. You look neither, by the way,” you shrugged.

“Actually, there’s a minor percentage of killers that don’t fit in your description. Ted Bundy is an example, he used his good looks to lure in unsuspecting women.”

You hummed in agreement. “You’re right and you could definitely use your looks too but I still doubt you’re one. Let’s call it intuition and if I had to guess, you work at a desk job. Finance or Human Resources, maybe?”

“Are you saying I look—” he cleared his throat, a wrinkle appearing between his well shaped brows. “—handsome?”

“Well, at the risk of sounding like I’m flirting with you—which I’m not, well, maybe. But yes, I think you’re good looking. Handsome.” 

The pink flush that slowly darkened to a cherry red started its descent to his exposed neck, making him look more endearing. His reaction made it quite obvious he was never one to receive such flattery about his appearance which made you question the eyes of the women around him.

He was utterly distinguished and dressed in this comforting nerdy fashion that added to the appeal.

“I take it you’re not used to compliments.”

The long lashes that framed his molten chocolate eyes fluttered, as if highlighting is naivety in dealing with the opposite sex.

It sent butterflies free in your stomach.

“Yeah, but thank you. And I’m really not a serial killer—I wouldn’t be using a memorable vehicle in picking up a victim in a crowded street with city cameras around. Not that, that information helps me state my case. In fact, it’s making it worse—” he rambled out, easing the car into a stop beside your apartment complex. “What I meant was, I-I think you’re good looking too, beautiful.”

You laughed at the absurdity of where your night has ended up.

The air trapped between two bodies crackled with an energy you couldn’t name. It was humming below the surface, making you feel hyper aware of the man who drove you home.

It was igniting.

Possibly the start of something.

In contrast, the outside was quiet and still. The rain had finally come and gone, leaving behind its comforting atmosphere.

The lamp posts reflecting off the puddles of water, tinting the streets a warm, honey gold color. Leaves dancing, like string puppets controlled by the forces of nature. The wind whispering and giggling—to what, you didn’t know but you felt it wasn’t important to dissect. No more important than the stranger who’s scent, aged books and cedar wood, intermingled with yours, vanilla and a hint of amber.

“Thank you for the ride,” quickly exiting the vehicle. Suddenly you felt shy as the last few minutes replayed in your head—how trusting you were to take his offer and how naive it was of you to let your guard down.

The sound of a subsequent car door opening echoed on the empty street. “You’re welcome and you’re wrong, by the way.”

“Wrong about what?” You twisted to look back.

The street lights hitting his face, casting a mysterious shadow on his handsome features.

“About me working in finance or human resources.”

Huh. 

Your steps faltered to a stop.

That was a first—people around you always did say you read people best.

He was an exception it seemed.

An anomaly.

A mystery you wouldn’t mind taking a second try in solving.

“Better luck next time then. I hope to see you around,” you waved as you opened the heavy metal gate behind you.

His hand mimicked your goodbye before promptly reaching down to open his car door, effectively disappearing from your gaze as you pushed the main door open to the lobby.

As you watched the remaining water droplets slide down your coat, waiting for the rickety elevator to descend, an all important question popped in your mind that you never uttered into the world.

His name.

You forgot to ask for his name.

Hurriedly running back to the entrance, your stained heels clacking on the stoned pathway, you opened the gate just to spy the gentleman’s memorable light blue vehicle rev forward to blend into the chilly city night. 

Damn.

**

The second—a shared cup of Joe between two no longer strangers

The sun peeking underneath the cotton candy white clouds did little to fight off the inevitable Autumn air. Weeks of sunny days from the past storm is nearing its end causing the city occupants to flood the streets and parks for their last soak of Summer. 

Weeks have gone since your enthralling encounter with the handsome stranger and his vintage blue car. You’ve spent days replaying the memory in hopes of finding any more clues on who he was or even how to run into him again. Nights lamenting over the missed opportunity and the bitter what-if that came with it. The thought, now hazy from time passed, seemed to be colored in this golden hue you couldn’t quite describe.

A sigh escaped from between your pale pink lips. 

The moment was captivating.

He was beguiling.

But until you run into him again, his very being in your mind lived rent free.

Hand adjusting the pale pink scarf wrapped around your neck, you stepped into the warm quaint bakery down by the office. The aroma of freshly baked bread and roasting coffee beans enveloped the otherwise packed store. It was still early on the day and otherwise sleep deprived workers were queuing up for their daily fix.

This had been your spot since renting a small office space to commute to. Given your need to separate home from work, you’ve opted to find a studio you could call your temporary ‘work room’. It added extra expense, you’d agree but the comfort of being in a sea of strangers going to and from added a sense of productivity you’d never quite get if you created a makeshift office in your one bedroom apartment downtown.

You squeezed your way towards the front to view the pastry selection when you spotted him.

The gentleman in question at the counter, clearly holding up the line. 

He flashed Sarah, your usual fixer as you joked, a tight smile filled with apologies and embarrassment. 

Destiny seemed to have heard your calls and to that you were grateful.

Not wanting to let this second chance encounter go to waste, you excused yourself to the register and deftly slid your card on the white granite counter.

“Hey Sarah, do you mind adding my order with his? And a one of your buttery croissants would be much appreciated.”

Her eyebrows raised, clearly wondering the reason behind your surprising actions. Eyes flickered to the stranger beside you muttering his light disagreeing reaction before nodding towards you, as if agreeing with what she saw. “One long black and a flat white coming right up.”

“Hey stranger, fancy seeing you here,” you cocked your head to the side, loose tendrils escaping the confines of your loose bun.

The same blush that haunted you graced his face. “Hey—hi, it’s you! It’s nice to see you again,” his fingers proceeded to fiddle with his leather worn wallet. “You didn’t have to do that, you know. Pay for my coffee, I mean.”

“It’s no problem at all, just think of it as my payment for the ride the other day and also a thank you for, you know, not turning out to be a killer, like you kept bringing up.”

He chuckled, eyes crinkling close. “Well, I just wanted to instill some extra caution in you. It’s good to think well of people in general but it doesn’t hurt to be wary of them either. Especially the statistics of you—a young woman being targeted is quite high no matter how safe Washington seems to be.”

“I did get an earful from my friend about the reckless act I did. So, safe to say I’ve learned my lesson—” you paused, flashing Sarah a smile as your hands wrapped around the steaming cup of coffee and the bag containing the pastry. “But between you and me, I think she was more miffed about something I didn’t do.”

He mimicked your movements and proceeded to guide you to the nearest available standing table, his free hand hovering near the small of your back. 

“And what was it?”

“Not getting your name.”

His free hand wrapped around the strap of his satchel, pulling it towards the front of his body as if it was a shield that could hide away the blush that slowly crept down his neck.

“I, yeah—Spencer. Spencer Reid.” 

You introduced yourself with the same enthusiasm, finally at ease for knowing who he was.

“Well then, Spencer Reid, was I really wrong or was that just a lie to throw my deductive skills off course?” your hands pushing the packets of sugar towards his steaming open cup.

He thank you silently, counting at least 8 packets of sugar before returning the remaining ones in the jar. “What do you mean?”

“You not working in finance.”

“Well statistically speaking, more than 43% of the offices located here don’t belong in the finance section,” he grinned. 

With his eyes twinkling, he further continued. “21% of those are actually the government sector while the remaining are a mixture of publishing, business, and IT.”

“You sprouting off statistics doesn’t really sway me from my guess, you do know that?” You hummed, watching him dump and stir all the sugar into his dark cup of Joe. The idea of how sweet it would be sent a slight shiver down your spine. “If not finance then hmm—what about teaching?”

Appraising his get up for the day—a purple button down layered with a seemingly fraying cardigan and a black overcoat. He reminded of you of those quirky university professors that students would have no problem having a crush on. 

“You look like a young college professor with a couple degrees under your belt. Maybe literature? Or math?”

An airy laughter emitted between his lips. “Why is it always returning back to math?”

“I truly don’t know—” you shrugged. “You look smart and academic so that’s my best guess.”

“There’s actually a statistic on how many academically gifted people end up in the field of science rather than in math but I don’t know if you’d like to hear it.”

You leaned forward. “I actually do but that would cement my idea of you in maths.”

A ring from his pocket interrupted his reply. Spencer clambered to answer the call even before its’ third ring. 

“Yeah. Okay, got it. 5 minutes.” 

Any humor or lightheartedness the conversation brought had been erased from his face. It must have been work and the gravity of his responsibility must be heavy—definitely not finance and maybe not a professor then.

“I have to go—” Spencer tightly smiled, hands pulling the satchel and drink closer to his body. “It was really nice seeing you again.” 

You nodded, wordlessly walking out of the shop with him. As he started to step away from your presence, he turned back one last time to further throw you off course.

“You were right about one thing.”

Brows furrowing together, you shout back. “Which one?”

Spencer just smiled and shrugged his shoulders before turning forward, picking up his pace and leaving you further baffled about his mystery.

**

The third—a run- in during an otherwise idle day

The white noise the train against its tracks threatened to lull you into a daze. Its compartment surprisingly sparse with occupants during this otherwise tranquil Saturday. Everyone seemed to be at nearby parks, watching the leaves slowly turn this red-orange hue.

Your companion in hand—a book with its spine cracked and front cover folded backwards, sat idly on your denim lap. It was a tattered and worn copy of Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights. When you were in your teens, it had been the gateway to your love of classic literature and it had been your favorite ever since.

The bench you were seated on shifted and with it, medium brown brogues registered in your periphery.

Inwardly, you scoffed at the stranger invading your space when there were a multitude of empty seats available in your section. Briefly you wondered if this was going to be another day of being picked up by men who didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘no’ which inevitably would ruin your day. 

As you were debating on nicely excusing yourself away, the man cleared his throat.

“Hey—hi,” he sheepishly greeted in this voice that had been replaying in your head since that rainy weekday night. 

You blinked away the surprise—the bafflement that fate had seemed to cross your path with his again and again and again. It always happened when you least expected it. After all, you spent numerous days craning your neck for even a small glimpse of Spencer Reid to no avail. Your eyes would subconsciously sweep the streets for a view of any suede coat matched with a purple pattern scarf. It had been your own version of Where’s Waldo—a past time that your friend joined as you forbade her (and by extension, yourself) from looking him up online. 

You wanted to keep the mystery and it seemed fate was rewarding you today.

“Hi-hey Spencer. This is a surprise,” your cheeks stretching wide from the grin you gave him. 

His fingers brushed a nonexistent stray of hair behind his ears. “Yeah, I couldn’t believe it was you. The odds of ever seeing you again—or anyone I’d know on the train is low, with how many people Virginia has.”

“Isn’t it fascinating?” your hands closing the book that no longer held your attention. “How we seemed to just run into each other? Funny how that works.”

“I mean, you could say that—not that I believe in destiny or fate with how abstract and little scientific studies it has. Maybe we just run in the same small schedule or circle.”

Your eyebrow raised, appraising his look. 

His hair looked unruly—with one side more flattened the the other, possibly slept on. His clothes, although free from any stains that would indicate it as yesterday’s, had crease marks that were reminiscent of its folding. They were clean but also not pressed—came from the satchel then. The very same bag laying on his lap, no doubt filled with dirty laundry and other necessities.

“I don’t think so,” you pondered on. “Are you just on your way back home from work, by any chance?”

“How’d you know that?” His voice cracking at the end.

You shrugged. “I pick up on things, small details and all that.”

“That’s really good. Must come in handy with your work as a journalist.”

Now it was your turn to be surprised. “How’d you know that? How’d—what gave it away?”

“It was an educated guess which—” he flashed you a grin. “—you just confirmed now.”

“Touche. Although that does seem unfair,” you pouted. “You know my occupation but I can’t even get yours right.”

He tilted his head to the right, eyes twinkling with life that keeps you pulled in. “You’re welcome to guess. In fact, I could give you a clue if you wanted—” he paused waiting for your agreement which you readily gave. “—alright you were right about one thing the last time: the one about me having multiple degrees.”

“You look young so I’m guessing a genius?”

“Well, my co-workers do like to tease me as one and it is true so yeah. I am a genius.”

The way his eyes shifted showed how bashful he was in admitting out loud he was one. You briefly wondered if there was ever a time where he felt embarrassed about it—probably in high school, you’d surmise. Teenagers, after all, had the tendency to ostracize anyone who doesn’t fit the rigid status quo they’ve collectively agreed upon.

“That’s amazing!” You gushed. “And it does narrow it quite down, actually. Do you happen to work for the government? I mean, I’m sure they try to collect the best minds our country has to offer, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do work for the government. And you’re right, they do tend to employ gifted adults as a way to also surveillance them—to make sure they don’t turn into anti-statists or anarchists.”

You pondered over every detail he presented. Freshly manicured nails tapping on your leg before finally guessing. “Okay so, I was first going to say NASA because—” you shrugged. “—it’s space but then that would be too stereotypical of me to assume. Plus, you’ve thrown off just about any deductions I’ve made during our first two meetings—”

Spencer nodded. He seemed proud to listen to you ramble your way through. 

“—I was also going to guess administrative work but it’s a weekend and you’re just on your way home so that’s a no—”

A small spread on his face.

A good sign that you were in the right direction.

“—it can’t be the judiciary too, right? I always imagined them to be wearing neutral suits and have this stoic air around them—”

He chuckled.

“—so I’m guessing law enforcement? Can’t be a regular cop, they have uniforms. So, for the FBI? Or am I just reaching?”

Spencer vigorously nodded his head, the wavy tendrils tucked behind his ears escaping their confines. 

“That’s right! Wow—you’re really good at this. Maybe you should have also been scouted!” He teased.

You giggled, the happiness from getting it right and the idea of you working with a gun seemed ludicrous. “Sadly, I may be too clumsy for that kind of work. With my type of luck, I’d probably trip over my feet and mess up a crime scene.”

The automated voice announcing the next station broke through the lighthearted conversation. Spencer’s eyes widened ever so slightly, indicating that this was his stop.

“I guess this is it, huh? See you soon then, Spencer?”

He sandwiched his lower lip between his pearly teeth. “Would you be interested in purposefully seeing each other next time? I would love to get to know you more—over dinner? Coffee? Any would be great—you don’t have to say yes of course but yeah.”

“Can I say yes to all of the above?” You teased. “I would love to.”

Spencer started to get up, hands pulling on his satchel to secure it. The train was coming to a stop and you could begin to see the stop come into view.

Your hand quickly reached out to tug on his rolled sleeve. “Wait—how do we contact each other?”

“It’s tucked in your book. My number, I mean,” he laughed. The sound coaxing you to release your own. “See you!”

Your eyes tracked him getting off the train and his would meet yours one last time, before disappearing towards the station’s nearest exit. Your hands hastily opened the front page to where a new object was slotted in between without you knowing.

His calling card.

Federal Bureau of Investigation - Behavioral Analysis Unit SSA Dr. Spencer Reid 1-761-xxx-xxxx

Giggling, you fished your phone from the confines of your wallet and quickly sent out a text.

Hey. Are you a magician too, by any chance? 

**

The fourth or better yet, the planned first—two strings interwoven by fate

Spencer hadn’t been able to explain the circumstances that led him here tonight—walking through a nearby park in the sparkly but cold weekend night with a beautiful woman right by his side. 

The dinner date had gone surprisingly well. So great in fact that he didn’t want it to end. Suggesting to walk you back home rather than use his blue well beaten vehicle left parked near the restaurant was his idea to prolong the night. 

He was well aware that you both could be exposing yourselves to a seasonal bout of cold but for the first time, it didn’t matter to his overactive and over-analytical brain. Nor did it seem to matter to you—given with how vigorously she accepted his suggestion to walk. 

Your dainty right hand was wrapped around the bouquet of flowers he personally selected. An array of daisies, daffodils, and sedums.

Joy from having to meet you, to new beginnings, and affection.

Spencer wanted to convey what he had been feeling since that run-in the coffee shop. Regardless if you knew what they meant.

This was all uncharted territory and the incidents that brought them into each other’s worlds was baffling to say the least. 

Was this the really the works of fate?

Does this prove that destiny is true and the notion of having free choice is a lie we tell ourselves?

He concluded it probably didn’t matter.

All that mattered was where he was now—with you.

“So you really took all those degrees all together?” you clarified, eyes widening from disbelief. “The amount of studying and writing you’ve done must have been massive.”

“Well, it did help that I could read fast—20,000 words per minute, but I could still remember my hands cramping from the amount I had to type down.”

“Of course you can still remember, with your eidetic memory and all. That must be nice—never forgetting any novel you’ve read.”

He shrugged. “It does have it’s perks but between you and me, there is a downside to it.”

You halted in her step, staring inquisitively up at him. 

Spencer found it cute—how even with yout heeled boots on, you could only reach up to his chest. It gave him this sense of protectiveness over you being. 

“Oh yeah, like what?”

He pondered. “Well, we did have this one vampire case and one of the victim’s laptop password was ‘Cullen’ and I didn’t get the reference—thought it was ‘colon’ actually. So I decided to read the first book and didn’t like it.”

“You actually read ‘Twilight’?” You giggled. It sounded like wind chimes echoing through the trees.

“I was curious!” His voice went up an octave. “Is that what teens are reading, really? What ever happened to reading ‘Lord of the Flies’ or Franz Kafka during high school, for that matter?” 

“The one where a group of boys are stranded on an island or the one where the protagonist turns into a cockroach? Doesn’t really read romance for teen girls, Spencer.”

He chuckled. “And a 104 year old vampire does?”

“It’s about the idea,” you continued on walking, free hand swinging in between you—all he had to do was reach out and intertwine it with his but could he do that? Should he? Would she want that? “How Bella is your average, teen next door and someone like Edward, mysterious and handsome, could fall for her. It’s about the premise—I mean which teenage girl didn’t dream of something like that?”

“Does that include you too?”

You laughed. “I mean—Edward isn’t really my type but sure, I guess.”

Spencer decided to do it. He tentatively reached out his pinky to yours, looping them together.

There, a small touch you could say no to.

He waited for the reaction. From himself, there was a lack of worry for germs (this surprised him) and from you, the possibility of rejecting his small advances. With a breath lodged in his throat, Spencer watched a shy smile grace your face and cheeks turn further pink. 

Empowered by the reaction, he reached out to intertwine the rest of his freezing hand with yours and proceeded to tuck both into his coat pocket. Spencer felt his cheeks emit warmth, wondering where his courage came from. If Morgan just saw him now, no doubt he’d get a pat at the back and a whispered ‘you’ve got serious game, kid.’

“It’s a good thing he isn’t my type at all, don’t you think so?” You whispered. “I mean, you don’t sparkle in the sun, do you?”

His laughter echoed through the otherwise empty streets. 

“Oh god—that was so so bad. Ignore my cheesy flirting, please.”

“No, no,” he shook his head, feeling lightheaded from your presence. “I don’t think I do, actually. We could check—” clearing his throat “—once the weather gives way to the sun.”

It seemed like you got what he was subtly stating. “That long, huh? I’ll hold you to that promise.”

“Please do.”

Both your steps slowed to a stop in front of your apartment complex.

Spencer sighed under his breath, he really didn’t want the night to end. There was still so much to talk about—anything and nothing at the same time. Is this what they meant when they said time flies when you’re having fun? 

“Well,” you squeezed his hand twice. “This is it. I had fun tonight, Spencer.”

He squeezed back in return. “I did too. Can I—call you again?”

You nodded, a single tendril of hair escaping from its' loose bun.

Mesmerized, Spencer reached forward and secured it behind your reddening ear. “Get home safe.”

“I doubt anything would happen between my way up from the elevator to my door but I will. Drive safe and let me know you got in safely, got it?”

He reluctantly let go of your hand, slowly backing away without turning his back on you. Each second seeing you bundled up in a coat with flowers still on hand was an image he never wanted to forget, never wanted to miss.

As he was a few steps away, the wind carried your sweet voice to his ears.

“Hey, Spencer. There’s one thing I think you forgot to take with you.” 

He patted his coat, unsure as to what you were pertaining to. Eyes scanning his being when the distinct sound of your heels against the pavement, getting closer and closer, made him look up.

A pair of soft warm lips met his cheeks. 

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

His jaw dropped. The act short circuited his otherwise intelligent brain. It felt like every thought had dropped away, turning insignificant, compared to the tensed silence between two individuals once considered strangers but now intertwined in a way he could not explain in any language he knew. 

Little white specks floated down from the sky, coloring the moment in the lightest color ever possible—a hue that symbolized new beginnings.

Before his mind could catch up, Spencer felt himself moving.

Towards you.

Closing in. 

Cupping your cheeks.

And meeting his own lips with the ones that short circuited his brain.

In that moment, all he could comprehend was the smell of you—like freshly cleaned laundry dried under the sun. The taste of you—cherries with a hint of the red wine you drank over dinner. And the feel of you—warm, hands grasping his coat tight, flowers dropped on the ground, momentarily forgotten.

These were details he willed to engrave in his eidetic memory. Observations he doesn’t want to forget.

And you, the single woman he hopes to never lose.

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[toothfa-1-ry]

JUST FATHER ACTIVITIES

Imagine in an alternative universe, somehow you and your baby daddy Thanos escape the games (don't ask me how) and you guys pay off all of your debts and have financial stability

Basically father! Thanos headcannons!!

First of all, thanos is a girl dad. Idc i do not make the rules you CANNOT and WILL not change my mind otherwise

After the games, irrelevant of whether you were also in the games with him or not, he'd quit his drug addiction and go to a rehabilitation centre for the sake of your daughter

You couldn't change him, but your daughter could

Thanos would go with you to the gynae every single time without fail, he'd brag about it (very loudly) though

"Look" thanos points at all the patients in the waiting room in the gynae clinic "how many women do you see with their husband's accompanying them?"

"Thanos shut the fuck up" you'd hiss at him, while hitting his arm. The women around you guys giving you the stink eye which he proudly gave back

"I'm just saying the truth- is it a sin to speak the truth?!?"

Will brag to the doctor and nurses too

"Say doctor miss" he leans back at his chair with his head held up high "how many husband's accompany their wives to the clinic?"

"Oh well that depends, not all the time-"

*insert thanos's loud proud laugh, his head thrown back while you grimace*

"I'm the fucking best aren't i"

*insert your slow head shaking* "Yes babe, you sure are"

He was always protective of you, but it grew even stronger after he found out you were pregnant

The type to protect you from a pigeon if he felt like it looked at you for a second too long

"Wtf are you looking at you cross eyed motherfucker"

*glares at the pigeon from a distance"

The type of person to hyper fixated on whatever small movement you do cause he's doesn't want you to get hurt

"Oh be careful be careful" *Holds your hand* "hold my hand and dont let go, use your other hand on the railing"

Says that he doesn't need to read or watch those "pregnancy classes" or "how to take care of a new born" classes cause he's already fully prepared

You later find out that he signed up for one of those seminars online and attends those lectures at night while your asleep

Bro probably has even stronger baby fever than you do

Buys things for the baby and you

"Thanos.. what's that in your hand"

"It's a costume, a ironman costume"

"For?"

"Our daughter 🙄 duh y/n"

"Babe, she still isn't even born"

"I got you a costume too" *takes out a black widow costume that seemed a little too racey* "you should try wearing it now just incase-"

*he got hit by you for trying to get you pregnant again while you were pregnant*

Let's say nam gyu wasn't the slimy bitch he was in the series

Best GODFATHER ever. GOATED godfather, S TIER godfather

I already mentioned this but I'm sure Thanos and nam gyu would come up with names for the baby

I'm talking wack ass names that they genuinely find cool

The list of names would include marvel character names (cause cmon, the child's dad is literally called thanos) or rapper names

"Add cardi b on the list too"

"You know that's not her real name right?" Nam gyu asked, pausing before quickly scribbling the name down

"WHAT?!? Since when??"

I'm sure nam gyu even accompanied the two of you to the clinic atleast once or twice

He was banned from coming though cause him and Thanos together made too much noise

Whenever you and thanos are in public, it doesn't matter if your in a cafe or restaurant or if your just out for a walk

If he meets anyone and i mean anyone

He'd tell them that he was gonna be a dad

"Hey do you know that I'm gonna be a dad?" *points at you* "and that's the mom- she's carrying my baby"

"Sir I'm the waiter"

On the softer note though

Kisses you on the lips first and then kisses your stomach second before you both go to sleep

If you groan or even if he senses a inch of your discomfort he'll automatically try to figure out a way to make you feel in ease

Tries his best not to annoy you

(It doesn't always work cause being annoying is his entire personality trait but it's the effort that counts!!)

Ties your shoelaces for you cause you can't bend over

Traces shapes over your stomach while you both lie next to eachother

Reminds you how pretty you are everyday

"If I'm the legend Thanos, then I guess you would be a myth, cause only a face like yours could make a man like me want to quit"

"Your so corny"

But you wouldn't have it any other way

[sirxlla]

You Randomly Get Kidnapped but You Can Handle Yourself (Batboys)

(Requested by @nesting-dreams ily sm thank you for all the ideas/prompts xxx)

------------------------------------------------

Dick: He was never one to have or tell you what you could and couldn't do. For you, you wanted to work a job like a regular person even though he said he would financially support you. You didn't want to feel like you were mooching off of him.

So as unfortunate as it was you were trying to get in your vehicle after working a really long shift at the hospital while on the phone with Dick, a man came up behind you and they were very swiftly beaten with a metal waterbottle.

Dick was obviously very worried cause of what he heard and he was already patroling the area which meant he very swiftly came to you. You were sat ontop of the man, his arms pinned under your knees as you brutally smacked him over and over with a waterbottle.

"You wanna kidnap people in the middle of the night, You Little Shit?!" You were yelling.

Nightwing had to pull you off of the man noticing the damage you did, it took everything for Dick not to laugh at this man. He got beat up by a tired nurse with a fuckin waterbottle, needless to say he was proud and the man was swiftly arrested. The pair of you went home to have a well deserved nap.

Jason: Being the man he is he decided that it was a fantastic idea to give you a very strong tazer for your birthday because he thought you might need it and you really wanted one.

"I hope someone would, I'll taze their dick off!" You waved the uncharged tazer around very happy about the gift.

"You'll taze their dick off?" He laughed as he appreciated your enthusiasm.

Unfortunately, when you hope for something bad to happen it usually brings bad things around, you we're trying to get into the apartment with Jason was on the other side which of course the dumb ass trying to kidnap you didn't realize that.

By the time Jason get out there you were very clearly tasing this mother fucker in the balls. The man was groaning in very obvious pain, a shot of electricity to the family jewels didn't feel very good.

"You wanna go again, Asshole? You want me to taze you in the mouth, I'm sure that shit hurts just as much."

"I think you got him, Babygirl." He was smiling with full pride. He knew you would never use the taser without knowing 100% that you could do it without getting hurt and you very successfully did.

The man was left there and Jason brought you back inside, put your tazer back on the charger and then showed you all the ways he was very proud of you.

Bruce: He really didn't want you to have any sort of self-defense tool because he knew that if you fought back the likelihood that they would hurt you is extremely higher.

Naturally, you being you you bought a little bracelet that if you press it then it makes a very loud noise which can hurt whoever's ears you're pointing it at.

Another feature on there is that it sent him your location which was probably something that he would have been okay with if that's all it did but alas it was not.

From sparring with Bruce you knew a lot and this asshole pissed you off, trying to kidnap a woman while she was pumping gas? "I think the fuck not."

You had very promptly pushed the button and cupped it against the man's ear which caused him to get disoriented and fall flat on his stupid face.

"That's why you don't mess with girls at the gaspump! Suck my metaphorical dick, Motherfucker!" You would think that this was a Fortnite game with the way that you were acting, to anyone else it would have been the funniest thing ever but of course Bruce doesn't have the biggest sense of humor.

He thought what you were doing was reckless and stupid, you should have gotten your car and left. Bruce proceeded to lecture you the entire night about exactly what you should have done and why it was dangerous and how you're lucky that it didn't turn out worse than it was.

"We don't take pride when we hurt someone and we sure as hell don't gloat. What we're you thinking? He couldve got up. That was reckless."

Tim: Tim craved coffee like it was some sort of drug needing to be injected into jis veins and you really really loved the little muffins the coffee shop had. You got up early in the morning and we're making your way to the coffee shop.

You figured out you were being followed quite quickly so of course the only thing you had in your bag was your wallet and maybe a few pens. Nothing the regular person would think would be overly useful in a situation like this.

The pen was useful though if you used it right, it was swiftly brought between your fingers, you texted Tim you were being followed. He very promptly shot out of bed to protect you, throwing on whatever close were scattered around the messy bedroom.

Once he found you, you were leturing the man on all the places you could stick the pen. The man was on the ground pinned to the floor. None of the Batboys were ever gonna let their woman go out of sight without some sorta training.

"I could stick this in your jugular, if you'd like. I could gove you the choice you were never gonna give me."

"You could stick it in his eye, its less lethal and could be considered an accident." Tim chimed in with a smile, the smile on Tim's face was quickly matched by yours.

The man underneath you was panicking because for all he knew you two were complete psychopaths considering jow many Gotham has. He started begging for you to let him go, You got off him while clicking the pen which made him run off like a little crybaby.

Tim and you walked hand and hand to the coffee shop like nothing ever happened. You both knew the pen wasn't what scared him if was your confidence and the way you spouted things off like a crazy person.

Damian: Damian was very much his father's son and he would do the same psychotics weird ass shit that Bruce did. The only difference was he asked you and you very clearly said no to a tracking device being put in you but that did not stop him from doing it and he did it very easily without you noticing.

Of course he didn't know anything was wrong until he noticed that you're tracking device really didn't move too much. He was kinda worried but it was instantly interrupted.

The phone rang and it was a guy calling for ransom while a guy in the background argued with you and said something about you stabbing him in the ass.

"We want a million." The man said off the bat.

"That's all your gonna ask for?!" Then there was the sound of the phone hitting the floor while you beat the shit out of them with a chair leg.

"You should really have better quality shit if you're gonna kidnap someone!" You yelled while the two men grunted on the floor, the first one had had the chair smashed into his back and this one was being wacked with a chair leg.

Damian showed up in regular clothes, he could tell by the phone call you didn't need any help.

"How the fuck did you know where I am?" You asked with clear suspicion and irritation.

"I traced the cell phone call." He lied very easily but there was something off and you could tell. He always kind of scratched his chin when he told you a lie and he had a shitty poker face.

"You put a tracker in me?! When we get home, you are cutting it out. I dont care that you track me but I'd rather not have a weird piece of metal in my body, Damian! I already have this stupid birth control for you, but at least that shit's been tested."

He knew that there was no point in fighting with you so therefore when the both of you got home, he cut it out and he stitched it back up and did everything he could to apologize without actually saying the words. You wore tracking bracelet from then on, a lot less invasive of the body.

Damian definitely was left apologizing over that for months cause he knew he betrayed your wishes and your trust. It was flowers, jewlery, gifts galore. Damian was never good with his words, you knew he was sorry but you wanted him to say it. Once he did the tension between the two of you quickly evaporated into thin air.

-> Masterlist <-

-> Send me prompts if you'd like <-

[cherrygirlfriend]

─── a fragile fawn on the side of the road.

…or the stray girl rafe meets on the side of the road

req! i enjoyed writing this and if people find her interesting i’d love to write more for fragilefawn!reader n rafe!

one lonely fawn walked along the road, no shoes to protect her feet from the rough asphalt, a coat of mud already stuck to them, wearing nothing but a white nightgown that reached her shins, her body covered in goosebumps, arms raised up to her sides to make sure she’d stay balanced on the white line painted on the ground that separated the road from the rest of the world, the sun already long set, the summer night sky now a murky, dark blue.

the first word that comes to mind when one thinks of little fawn would be eccentric. or, less kindly, insane. creepy. weirdo.

the eccentric fawn spent her entire life under some kind of medication as her parents attempted to fix her quirks as they called it, when in reality, all it did was make her an empty shell of a human. fawn loves being around people, but people don’t always share her sentiments. she just doesn’t get why people look at her like that. their lips twisted into a grimace, eyes slightly narrowed in distaste.

and that’s what he thought about her too. when rafe cameron saw fawn walking on the side of the road in the middle of the night. what a fuckin’ creepy, weird girl. he drove past her without paying much attention, but the girl seemed to be stuck in his mind for the rest of the night

every night for a week, rafe drove down the same dirt road. and every night she was there, walking down the same line, wearing the same nightgown, the hem of your dress now dirtied with mud. but this time, he stopped the car when he reached you, rolling the window down.

you turned to look at him, completely perplexed. “do you need directions?” you asked, your doe-eyes wide and your head cocked to the side.

“no. do you need a ride?” the boy asked, causing a small snort to leave your lips.

“you should never accept rides from strangers.” you laughed softly as if it was the most preposterous thing you had ever heard, continuing on walking, leaving rafe staring at your back as you walked further from his car, and that was when he noticed the small cuts on your feet, likely from all the walking you’d been doing, making him let out a mutter under his breath. “fuck.”

you weren’t too bothered by the approaching footsteps that seemed to be sprinting towards you, not until you felt someone’s hand on your shoulder. you turned your head, letting out a small noise of surprise as you looked up at them, “it’s you again.”

rafe panted heavily, “yeah, it’s me, again.” he answered, scratching the back of his neck, “look, if you don’t want a ride, i get it. but at least take these.”

rafe couldn’t believe what he was doing as he kicked off one of his own sneakers, before doing the same with the one still on his feet. you looked up at him with furrowed brows, the boy left in only his socks. “you’re strange.”

“pot, kettle.” rafe mumbled under his breath as he knelt down in front of you, shoe in hand, “lift up your foot.” he said, and you did as he told you to do, lifting your dirty foot up. the stranger took hold of your ankle and gently brushed some of the filth off your foot, before slipping the white sneaker into your foot and placing it back down on the ground. “other one.”

you complied once again, and he repeated the process. “all done.” rafe mumbled, straightening up and dusting off his pants, “you sure you don’t need a ride?”

“nuh-uh. no thank you.” you smiled warmly. you then turned around, continuing on with your walk without looking back at the boy once, leaving him standing there with a dumbfounded expression on his face and no shoes.

too deep into your daydreams, you didn’t even notice the car that trailed behind you all the way to what he assumed was your home.

feel free to send requests & check out my masterlist ༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

[dark-konohagakure2]

imagine succubus!reader lurking in the phantomhive manor to find a victim for the night cause a succubus gets their energy if they take control but ends up getting caught and noncon-ed by sebastian until she cant take it anymore and begs to stop

UGHHH I HAVE BEEN STUCK WITH THIS IDEA SINCE THE DAY I IMAGINED IT 😭😭 petition for more succubus!reader fics 😔

tw: noncon, succubus!reader, size difference, tail pulling, rough sex, overstimulation, humiliation, creampie

All characters depicted are 18+

Sebastian takes his duties as the butler of the Phantomhive household very seriously, so seriously in fact that he doesn't ever sleep, mainly because demons don't need to sleep, but the fact still remains that there is no butler more diligent than Sebastian. His keen senses are able to pick up on the smallest of noises, even the faintest creak of the floorboards won't escape his notice. If a pin dropping doesn't go unnoticed by Sebastian, then there is no way in hell that he won't notice the presence of another hellish entity in his midst.

He is equal parts intrigued and concerned. Sebastian knows he can effortlessly dispatch any threat towards his master, bit even so the thought of another demon being after him is quite concerning. Never one to waste his time dwelling on any worries he might have, Sebastian will quickly do his part as a butler by apprehending the uninvited guest.

It's comically easy for Sebastian, he's not called a devil of a butler for nothing, he's able to use his superior strength to yank the little demon over to him when she's unaware, grabbing her by the pointy tail, which makes her hiss out in pain like a cat. Sebastian likes cats, even the ones with claws, but he sadly can't pet her, not when she's been such a bad girl as to even attempt to endanger his master.

Sebastian knows precisely how to deal with a naughty little succubus like herself, her kind feed off the sexual energy and desires of men, so he'll give her exactly what every succubus wants, he'll give it to her until she's begging him to stop. It's a fitting punishment for the demonic intruder, and it finally gives Sebastian the opportunity to stop feigning his humanity, even if just for a short while.

"Naughty thing, did you truly believe you could intrude oh my master's property without consequence? Oh how adorable~ I'll be sure to give you something to remember before sending you back to our home~"

His eyes are glowing unabashedly now, the glowing red orbs now having a feral intensity to them as he starts teasing the lesser demon, yanking on her tail roughly as he exposes her holes to his hellish gaze, teasing her sensitive pussy lips mercilessly before he decides to have his fill of her. Sebastian hasn't had a good fuck in a while, and certainly never with another demon that was aware of his true nature, so he's going to savor this rare treat.

Being centuries old, Sebastian is well versed in the art of making somebody come undone around his cock, whether they want to or not. His hips will slam against her from behind, his balls slapping against his ass while he fucks her raw, pulling on her tail like a bully pulling on the braids of a girl he likes. Sebastian's cock is long and thick, even in his human form, so it'll ram against her oversensitive womb with every thrust, forcing her into one mind breaking orgasm after the other.

Demons typically can't reproduce with one another, so Sebastian can cum inside of her to his heart's content without a care in the world, and he won't be satisfied with cumming inside of her just once, he's going to breed her until she's begging him to stop, and for hours after that too. It won't take long for her to go from confident and rude to whining and pleading with him to show mercy, but nothing will come of those pleas aside from her receiving even more mockery and even more loads shot into her already overstuffed womb.

He finds her reactions and pleading to be both adorable and pitiful, not to mention ironic; a creature who feeds off of sex now begging him to stop fucking her, her impish pussy overflowing with cum and weakly gripping his cock, fucked loose from the brutal pounding she's getting. He definitely won't be stopping anymore despite her pleas, after all, lesser demons make lovely fucktoys.

"Oh my~ begging already, little one? How sad, your kind usually loves getting ravished so, you truly are a disgrace from all demonkind~! How cute~!"

But alas, he can't keep this adorable little kitten as a house pet as much as he wants to, his young master would never allow such a thing, but Sebastian takes pride in the fact that he successfully subdued another interloper, and she won't mess with him again, that is unless she wants her holes destroyed again.

[xplicitviewz]

thinking about pussywhipped!Choso who was severely wounded. You were on a 3 day trip (you wouldn’t event consider it a trip, just stayed a few cities away with some friends for their birthday) and Choso couldn’t believe his ears when you said you weren’t coming home that night.

“Cho,” you shake your head holding the phone to your ear, “I told you this for about few weeks now, you will be fine, it’s only 3 days.”

“But baby, 3 days and nights…..it’s too long.” He whines lying back in to the couch already feeling the withdrawals of not being near you practically all day. You had left earlier that morning.

“Baby I have to go, the ride is here, we’re gonna go eat dinner and I’ll call you back when we get back to the hotel. I love you and I’ll see you soon you big baby.” And with that you hang up.

Since the day you guys officially started dating, Choso hasn’t gone longer than 24 hours without being in seeing you. He was all for you having fun with your friends but 3 days? Not that he’d do anything to sabotage that………..

It had been hours since you last called, Choso was checking your social media mainly to see what you were doing. Tapping through your story; Still out eating, drinking now. Choso feels his dick throb when he sees the picture you posted showing off your outfit in the bathroom mirror of the restaurant. He quickly swipes up a reply, “you look so sexy baby”

Impatiently waiting for your reply, he decides to pull up one of his favorite home videos. It starts off with you laying on the bed, legs spread wide for him while his free hand roams around your naked body. His fingers press down your tongue while you suck around them before he pulls them out, a string of spit connecting from your lips had his hands glides down your neck teasingly, to your breast. He pinches your nipple earning a soft whimper from your lips.

Hearing your whimper from his phone causes his dick to grow hard instantly. He palms himself through his sweats watching as his fingers rub against your pussy. Fuck- he needs you now.

Whether it’s been him just giving you head or fucking you into the bed, Choso has never gone over a day without being in you and it’s driving him crazy that he wouldn’t be able to for 3 days.

Long before you know it, Choso has his dick out in his hand while he fucks his hand. His phone had been long tossed aside- he didn’t need the video to play since he’s watched it more than he would like to admit, also his imagination works a little too well.

Choso was manspread on the couch, his shirt bunches up high and his sweats at his ankles, biting his lip as his hand moves. He definitely wasn’t quiet either. Eyes closed imagining it to be your hand instead of his. The things you’d say to him, he can hear it in his head as if you were right next to him.

“Gonna make you feel so good Cho.”

“I want you to cum all over me, my face, my boobs, want you to cum in me too.”

“I love all the noises you make for me, such a good boy.”

“Taste so good in my mouth.”

Choso’s hips buck when he imagines your hand trailing up his thigh, to his balls, massaging them softly and gently. “Fu-Fuuck.” He groans when you he squeezes them just right. He fucks into his hand right before he cums all over his hand and stomach. Catching his breath he looks at the mess he created before grabbing his phone, taking a picture and sending it to you, “I miss you baby.”

*not proofread*

Part 2

Husband!Nanami

Maid!reader x Married! Eren

Ex-husband!Eren

Sylus mini

Nerd!armin x reader x boyfriend!eren

[munsonsmixtapes]

A Guiding Hand

Simon "Ghost" Riley x virgin!fem!reader

You call a sex hotline looking to get some relief Ghost is happy to help.

cw: MDNI (18+) masturbation, dirty talk, use of nicknames

special thanks to @robinfeldt98 for giving me this idea!

Your hands shake as you type in the number on your phone. Your roommate gave it to you when you told her about your…problem. But now you’re afraid to commit, to actually call the number that you’ve typed in. You just stare at it, willing yourself to hit the green button but you just can’t. 

You finally press it and the speaker button then hurry across the room, hoping that they’ll hear that no one is on the line and hang up. That’s what you’re hoping for but all of that goes out the window when you hear that husky, British voice. 

You slowly come over to the phone after he’s greeted you, approaching it like you would a strange noise in your home. 

“Hi.” You finally get yourself to speak and your heart rate picks up when you hear a deep chuckle. 

“There she is,” he replies. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” You know you should give your name out to random men over the phone but this is his job, certainly he wouldn’t do anything creepy with that information-at least you hope not. 

“Y/n.”

“Y/n,” he repeats, the name coming out slowly like he’s getting a feel for it on his tongue. It sounds so…hot when he says it. ”I like that. I wonder what it would sound like during climax.” It sounds like he’s close to the receiver and it’s almost like he’s whispering it to you in your quiet bedroom and it causes a shiver to skate down your spine. 

Simon is never usually this forward. There’s usually a script that he created to make the calls flow easier, but you seem so nervous that he feels like he needs to take a different approach. He’s treading lightly, not wanting to scare you off. 

He doesn’t know why, but you seem…different from all the others. You’re not flirting with him like everyone else does. This is clearly your first time and since he started this job, this is the only time he’s wanted to be sweet and gentle. 

“So what’s the reason for your call, y/n?” He asks, his voice somehow getting even lower and you feel yourself getting wet already. How is he able to do that? 

“Aren’t you going to tell me your name first?” You ask and he chuckles again, making your heart leap again. 

“Oh, where are my manners? I’m Ghost.” 

“Ghost.” You don’t want to admit that you like it. That you can imagine yourself moaning it over and over even though you’ve never done that before. You’ve never done-well, anything. And that’s why you’re calling. To hopefully get some relief. 

“It sounds even better when you say it. So, what’s the reason you’re calling, sweetheart?” The nickname causes your cheeks to heat and you can’t believe how easily you’re playing right into his hand. 

“Well-“ you cut yourself off, unsure to tell him the truth without sounding weird. “I’ve never-I’ve never had sex before.” 

“I see,” is all he says in response, waiting for you to finish your explanation. 

“And I’ve never…masturbated either so I guess I’m just looking for some relief. To take some edge off.” 

“Well, you’ve come to the right place. How would you like me to help? You call the shots.” 

“Me? Why me?” You hate the idea of being in control. You want to be told what to do and how to do it. You’ve never done well in an authoritative role and he clearly has all the experience so you’d much rather have him take the reins. 

“Hey, let’s take a deep breath, darling.” he says. “In,” he says and you both suck in some air. “And out. Good,” he says once you’ve breathed all the air out. “I’m happy to take control if you want me too. I’ll do whatever you want. I’m yours for the night.” 

No one’s ever said that to you. No one has been so…eager to please you in this way and now you kind of wish you knew what Ghost looked like. If he’s as hot as his voice. You’re sure he is but you don’t know why. You want him to be here with you, knowing that it would ease your mind to have him standing in front of you.

But maybe it’s for the best that this is over the phone. You’d hate for him to see just how nervous he’s making you. How hot your skin feels, how your heart hasn’t stopped racing since he answered the phone. 

You’re so grateful that your roommate isn’t home. The wall between your room is so thin that you just know she’d be able to hear everything and you shudder just thinking about  her overhearing this conversation. 

“You take the lead,” you tell him and even though you can’t see him, Simon is grinning from ear to ear, loving the suggestion you’ve just made. He’ll be submissive some other time. Tonight, he’s going to make you his whore. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” he chuckles. “So you’ve really never touched yourself? Let’s start there. What are you wearing, y/n? Something hot?”

“Unfortunately not. Just a big t-shirt and panties. I-I was about to go to bed but I just can’t sleep.”

 Even though Simon has no idea what you look like, the outfit you’ve described is making him hard beyond belief. He closes his eyes, imagining sitting you down onto your bed, spreading your legs wide as he kisses you gently, pulling down your panties before fingering you until you beg him to stop, until you clench around him, screaming his name as you orgasm. 

“Ghost?” You ask and he’s immediately snapped out of his little fantasy. For the most part, doing this doesn’t really do anything for him. He’s done it so often that it’s just starting to feel like his job. But the fact that you want him to help you get yourself off-and for the first time-well that fills him with the kind of confidence he hasn’t had in a long time. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he apologizes. “I lost focus imagining you in what you described. What I’d do if I was there.” His voice is deeper, more seductive and you feel your panties getting progressively more wet the longer the conversation goes on. He’s imagining scenarios too? God, you wish he was here. “Where are you?” 

“In my room.”

“Alright, first, I want you to lie on the bed.” You do as he asks and wait for his next instructions. Your phone is by your head now as you imagine him hovering over you, whispering into your ear. 

“Are you on the bed, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice so gentle and you feel your heart warm at how gentle he’s being with you. You just know that other men wouldn’t be so nice.

“I am,” you confirm with a nod even though he can’t see you. 

“Now I want you to take your panties off and spread your legs wide for me.” You slowly take your panties off and toss them to the side before pulling your t-shirt up to your waist so it doesn’t get in the way. You then spread your legs wide, already wet as can be even though nothing’s happened yet. That’s just the effect that Ghost has had on you, suppose. 

“And once you’re ready, I want you to press your ring and middle fingers together then insert them. Your pace doesn’t matter. Go as fast or as slow as you’d like. This is all about you.” 

You bring your dominant hand up and hover it over your face as you do as he asks, you then take a deep breath, letting your eyes flutter shut as you slowly bring your hand to your cunt. You make a sound when they make contact, just the tips of your fingers sliding inside. 

You make a whimpering noise at how foreign it feels and Simon feels his cock straining against his jeans at the pretty sound. God, he thinks he’s going to come. 

“Does it feel good, princess?” He asks in a whisper and this nickname is your favorite of the ones he’s called you tonight. 

“So good,” you reply, pushing your fingers in and out of your cunt. You can’t believe you’ve never done this before. If you had known how good it felt, you would have done it a lot sooner.  

“A little faster. Can you do that for me?” You pick up your pace and all of these noises you’ve never made before start spilling from your mouth as your free hand bunches up the sheets that are underneath you. You spread your legs wider to give yourself more access and it makes all the difference when your fingers get deeper, reaching a spot that feels better than all the rest. 

“That’s it, princess,” Simon responds. “Just like that. Doing so good for me.” He’s now palming himself, so close to whipping it out and getting himself off, but he can’t. This is about you and he doesn’t want to get distracted from helping. Maybe if you call again, he can convince you to switch roles. “Fuck you’re so hot.” 

You’re close already, you can feel it. The movement mixed with Ghost’s encouraging words is making your head spin, making you feel dizzy. This is unlike anything you’ve felt before and now you understand why so many people do this regularly. 

“Ghost, oh my god,” you whine as you finally reach your peak, back arching, your cunt clenching around your fingers. Hearing you moan his name, he lets out a little whimper, knowing that he’s going to take care of himself as soon as the call is over. He has no idea how the hell he’s going to be able to do any calls after this. It’s the best one he’s ever had and now he hopes you call him all the time just so he can hear your pretty nosies again and again. 

“Fuck,” is all you’re able to say as yoou’re coming down, your body sticky with sweat as you remove your fingers.

“You did so good,” he says, his voice soft again, sounding so different from just moments ago. “How do you feel, princess? Bet you feel so good, don’t you?”

“So good,” you agree. 

“Well, I guess my job here is done. Same time tomorrow?” His tone is making it sound like he’s joking, but he really does want you to call tomorrow. And every day after that.”

“It’s a date,” you reply, your voice sounding a little tired.

“Alright, same time tomorrow. I’ll keep the line open so you just call this number again. Now go clean up and get some rest, princess. You’ve earned it for being such a good girl.” The line goes dead and you just lie there, not sure you can go to sleep after that, already counting down the minutes until you can call Ghost again. 

part two part three

[littlelovelunette]

absolutely filthy gp!sevika request incoming >:)

i was just thinking about how she’d hold your legs open as she fucks you into the mattress because she wants to see exactly what she’s doing to you…

and when you can tell that she’s close you beg her to cum inside and she gives in and does cause she simply couldn’t help herself…

anyways do with that what you will!!! hehe

Absolutely filthy G!P Sevika coming up, it's long 1.1k words, haha enjoy, babies

The November Challenge

Contains smut, degradation, cnc, sevika has a dick, clit play, anal, anal virginity, squirting, spanking, praising, fingering.

You thought it would be funny to make Sevika commit to the No-Nut-November challenge. Given her attitude to a challenge, of course she didn't turn it down but she didn't wanna take it either.

Sevika's libido had always been high and you knew it, she needed to go to the brothel so often, due to it, before you both became an exclusive thing and got married. But, her sex drive now was even higher with you.

All throughout the month before the last, Sevika struggled to hold herself back from stroking her big veiny cock, morning woods were the hardest to deal with, and she had to restrain herself whenever you both showered together. You were proud of her, of course, but couldn't help laughing at the miserable grumbles and other ungodly noises she'd make when she was horny.

“I'm so glad this stupid challenge is finally over,” Sevika grumbled and shoved her face in your hair, taking a long sniff which gave both of you comfort.

What, she can't help it, you're just too pretty, aren't you? Today was 30th November and the night was coming to an end, you both finished having dinner and were cuddling in bed.

“Mhm? You've been struggling so much this month,” you cooed, running your fingers as you traced her abs under her shirt. She rolled her eyes at your slightly mocking tone.

Eyes flickering to the clock every now and then, Sevika's arm around you tightened a little as the minute hand ticked and ticked, getting closer indicating that the month was over. Anticipation filled your chest as you watched Sevika's intense gaze towards the clock and the moment the hour hand hits twelve, she flipped you onto your stomach.

Sevika growled in response, taking her own clothes off, giving you space so you could pull your shirt up, the red bra clad breasts made her cock ooze out an impressive amount of precum. “Mmmm,” she hummed, palming your breasts before she pulled the bra off, unclasping it with her mechanical fingers, your breasts falling into their natural place had her almost drooling.

Sevika's body on top again, finally, as she pressed kisses at the nape of your neck, biting in an animalistic manner. This was the beast she'd held in for so long, she pulled and tugged at your clothes, her hardened member rubbing against your ass cheeks making you giggle, “Needy?”

Well, she drools a lot.

“Sevika!” You screamed out, scratching at her shoulder as you tightened around her cock, her eyes rolled back as she felt the warmth of your tight, clenching pussy, “T-too much.” you stuttered and whimpered.

You pulled your pajamas off, along with your pristine white, now drenched and soiled with your discharge, panties off. “I don't even care about foreplay anymore,” Sevika said before she, without warning, thrusted her huge cock inside you.

“You can take it,” she reassured, though not so gently, and started ramming into your pussy, her thrusts careless and sloppy as she continued fucking into your hole, making you see stars. Her hands came down to grab your thighs as she forced them to spread, they were closing because of the pleasure and pain in your hole.

You hadn't had anything inside you for a month, and now the sudden intrusion made your pussy feel a burning stretch that felt absolutely delicious. Your breasts were bouncing up and down, one hand tangling in the sheets while the other held onto Sevika's bulging bicep, “F-f-fuck!”

You managed to let out a stuttering curse word, only egging Sevika on further. Sevika growled, “Taking me so well, little slut, I'm gonna ruin this hole,” she thrusted harder, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. “Touch yourself,” she ordered and you started rubbing your clitoris, your other hand playing with your nipple as she continued fucking you.

“Daddy, feels too good, please cu-cum…” you begged and blabbered. Drool, tears and sweat running down your face as she completely ruined you. “What a slut,” Sevika spat as she continued her actions, and with two powerful thrusts, she shot thick ropes of semen deep in your womb, making your toes curl and you squirted on her length right after.

Your back arched and lifted off the mattress momentarily while your legs and hands twitched. Sevika's thrusting barely ceased, she thrusted a few more times before she collapsed on the sheets beside you.

Your thighs and back fell back down on the mattress, chest heaving up and down rapidly as you tried to calm down. “S-So rough…” you managed a small whiny complaint, semen oozing out of your abused hole. Sevika only chuckled in response, “So wasted, my little dolly.”

She didn't stop there, she got up, lining her cock up against your asshole making you whimper and shake your head. “Daddy, no…” You got on your knees and tried to crawl away but Sevika took the chance, grabbing your forearms and shoving her cock in your asshole.

The burning pain was too much, making your legs shake and your hands started clawing at the sheets in an attempt to find comfort. Sevika pulled out a little, spitting on her cock, shoving it back in your ass and within a few more thrusts, it started feeling like a different sort of pleasure completely.

Your eyes widened, tears streaming down your cheeks as you cried into the pillow, “Daddy, no! Not in my butt!” You sniffled and cried. “Stop being such a whiny slut,” Sevika let go of your arms to send a harsh slap on your ass making your hips jerk a little, she grabbed your waist with both hands and started ramming into your asshole.

Her huge, veiny cock was slipping in and out of your asshole with ease, arousal dropping from your pussy and onto the sheets.

You never felt so humiliated and spent. “Taking daddy's cock so well,” she slapped your ass and continued thrusting, “Please, daddy, it hurts so much…” you protested weakly but she didn't stop.

Sevika slowly slipped her cock out of your body, watching as your asshole twitched a little, cum seeping out.

“C'mon you can do it, you're my girl aren't you?” Sevika threw her head back as you tensed up, asshole clenching, “Fuck, do that again.” You blinked a little in confusion and moaned when she thrusted and you clenched again. You gasped, “D-d-daddy!—” as she came inside your asshole too.

“Pretty,” she mumbled, shoving in a finger lazily fingering you.

“Let's get you a bubble bath now.”

“Daddy, can't, not anymore,” you whispered but she didn't cease her fingering, her mechanical hand slipping down to rub your pussy, pinching your clit. Your face contorted as you squirted. Sevika helped you onto your back and gave you a moment to catch your breath before she gave you a soft kiss on the head.

[ghoulishhx]

Okay so boom, mean Frankie kinda teasing you when you’re overstimulated. Saying just one more like 4 times or saying he’s not gonna stop cause he knows you love it (consensually ofc)

NEEED THIS. this was running rampant through my mind, i hope you enjoy this lil something i whipped up :3

18+ MDNI !!

My Masterlist!

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Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: SMUTTT. porn without plot (sorry not sorry), overstimulation, reader cums 4 times, squirting, unprotected piv sex (wrap it up), oral (f!recieving), fingering, praise, pussy slappin', kinda rough but sweet frankie, creampies, use of dildo and vibrator, frank calls reader mama once (because its hot as fuck), spanking

Wordcount: 1.8k

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✦ addicted

“Frankie please- it’s too m-much.. Fuck..” your whole body trembles as your boyfriend drags yet another orgasm out of you. The second of the night and he hasn’t even been inside of you.

“Nah c’mon doll, gimme another. I know ya can. Be a good girl f’me yeah? Lemme make you feel good.”

—

He came home from ‘work’ tonight worse for wear, instantly picking you up from the couch, wrapping your bare legs around his waist as he carries you into your shared bedroom. He wastes no time running sloppy open-mouthed kisses across your skin, sucking love bites into you, marking you as his.

“Need you baby. Need ya so fuckin’ bad.” he mumbles as he raises your (his) shirt from your body, leaving you completely naked except for your panties beneath his fully clothed body. His mouth trails from yours to your neck, stopping at your breasts as he wraps his kiss swollen lips around each pebbled bud, swirling it around his mouth, groaning into you. His mouth trails down your stomach, you can’t help but yelp as he bites teasingly into the plush skin. He grins as he continues to your thighs, growling at the sight of your slick cunt inches away from his mouth, he can’t help but grip the waistband of your soaked panties and pull it upwards, your folds and clit deliciously accentuated by the action. Frank tortures you with this, offering friction to your clit where you needed him most just from maneuvering the fabric however he wishes. You squirm under him, rutting your hips into the air as you silently beg for more.

“Needy fuckin’ girl, I’ll give ya what ya want, don’t you worry bout that.”

His desire for you consumes him as his lips latch to your clit, nibbling at your bundle of nerves through the panties, soaking them further. His tongue travels across your sex, dipping the tip of his tongue into your entrance even though entry is barred by your underwear. You can’t help it as you shuffle your way out of your panties, allowing access to you directly. 

“Fuckin’ soaked doll, all f’me?” Frank marvels at the sight of your now bare cunt, glistening from your arousal.

“Only you Frankie, it’s all yours.” you whine, bucking your hips into him, begging him for more of him.

“Attagirl babygirl, all fuckin’ mine.” he answers your pleas and begins devouring you, fingers slipping in and out of you as he fucks you with his tongue. It’s not long before you’re cumming around him, ecstasy possessing you completely as you throb around him, clenching his digits with your gummy walls as your clit pulses on his tongue.

“That’sss it sweet girl, tase so fuckin’ sweet. Can’t get enough.” his pace doesn’t falter once despite your orgasm tearing through you so harshly. He’s well and truly addicted to the feeling of you, the taste, the noises he’s eliciting from you. The overstimulation hurts so good.

Reluctantly he pulls away from you, a mischievous glint in his eye as you prop yourself onto your elbows to look at him, knowing you’re gonna feel him inside of you makes you clench around nothing.

“Need you Frankie, please fuck me.. Wanna make you feel good too.” you motion him to climb on top of you, however your eyebrows raise as he lifts himself from the bed, bending down to your bedside table where you keep your toys.

“I’m not done yet mama, nowhere near done.” he reaches for your wand, plugging it in as he turns it on. Your face flushes red as you know what’s coming. He digs in the drawer further and retrieves your dildo. Shit. He’s going to be the death of you.

Frank takes the silicone toy and rubs it along your spent pussy, acquiring your juices from the previous orgasm, your breath hitches as it glides across your clit. Pushing the head into your entrance, your legs part to give him easier access to your core. Your boyfriend teasingly pushes the length inside of you, pushing it to a hilt as the fake balls wedge on your ass. 

You hiss at the stretch, clamping around the dildo as he begins slowly fucking you. He groans as he watches how full you are, the way your pussy takes it makes his own cock twitch in his jeans. The way you arch your back as he places the vibrator on your clit makes a growl escape his throat. Your hands clutch the bed sheets beneath you, knuckles turning white as he continues his relentless assault on your pussy.

“Fuck- Frank.. Shit it feels so.. Mhm so good..” you babble as your thighs twitch and tremble, the toy inside of you bouncing off of your spongy spot as he circles the vibrator on your clit. You’re a whining mess at this point, your arousal dripping to the sheets, soaking them, your back permanently arched off of the bed as you toy with your breasts and nipples. Frank watches you intently, his pupils lust-blown as he fucks you with your toys, grinding his hips into the bed selfishly to get some friction. You look too good, and he knows if he’s not careful he could cum in his jeans just from the sight of you getting off in front of him. His boxers are already stained from his own leaking cock, precum seeping through his jeans.

“Gonna cum for me again, angel? Gonna let me have it, yeah?” he firmly states as you nod affirmatively. He grins at your desperation, turning the vibrator to max speed as he increases the pace of which he’s fucking you with the dildo. Your second orgasm of the night crashes through you, your throat hoarse from screeching out his name along with a string of curse words. You squirt from the force of your orgasm, the motion pushes out the dildo and Frank replaces the vibrator with his fingers, strumming incessantly as he coaxes out more juices all over him, prolonging your orgasm.

“Fuckin’ hell baby, jus’ like that. So fuckin’ gorgeous, let it allll out.” he groans as he grips your thigh with his spare hand, bruising the soft plush flesh with his fingers as you soak his vest top. Once more, his pace doesn’t falter despite your overstimulation.

“Frankie please- it’s too m-much.. Fuck..” your whole body trembles as Frank continues touching you, your hips twitching ferociously trying to escape him.

“Nah c’mon doll, gimme another. I know ya can. Be a good girl f’me yeah? Lemme make you feel good. Wanna feel ya cum around my cock now, okay?” he removes his fingers from your pussy, slapping your sex repeatedly as your whole body jolts. 

Frank stands to remove his soaked clothes, finally freeing his erection from his boxer shorts. He pumps himself a few times with his fist with his cum-covered fingers, before grabbing your hips and turning you over onto your knees, forcing your head into the pillow below as he grips one of your ass cheeks, spreading you out in front of him as he inspects your dripping pussy. You moan as a harsh hand slaps against your ass, followed by him rubbing the growing red mark. You’re completely cock-drunk, despite not even being fucked by him yet. Your hole clenches in anticipation as he rubs his red tip through your folds, accumulating your slick as lubricant. 

“Slight stretch sweetheart, gonna fill ya up so good.” he whispers as he pushes himself inside of you agonisingly slow. Even though you had a toy inside of you only minutes ago, it doesn’t compare in the slightest to his length. His thick member always shocks you each time you have sex, but the pain feels too good as he shoves himself fully inside. 

Frank begins fucking himself into you, harsh passionate thrusts as your moans and the sound of skin slapping against each other fills the room. Your knees threaten to give out beneath you and Frank notices this as he wraps a strong arm around your waist to keep you in position. 

“Frank- shit. You feel so fucking g-good.. Fillin’ me up so well.” you whine between strangled sobs as he fucks you with ferocity, gripping you tightly against him as he groans and throbs inside of you.

“Feel so good baby, so perfect. Made to take my fuckin’ cock,” he growls as another sharp slap comes down on your cheek. “Gonna cum for me sweet girl? Cum all over my cock, I know y’close.” 

You whimper as your third orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave, arousal once more squirting from you, covering his lower half. His orgasm is close and with just a few more thrusts inside of you he is filling your walls with his hot, sticky seed. Your walls are painted white as he groans and pushes his length impossibly further into you. Gripping your hips, he pulls out of you after a few moments. Frank marvels at the sight of your dripping cunt, your shared fluids escaping your hole as they ruin the sheets even more than they already were. He can’t help but push his fingers back inside of you, pushing his cum deeper and deeper as he fucks you with his hand.

“My good fuckin’ girl. Y’make me so proud baby.” Your moans are borderline pornographic, so sinful yet so beautiful to hear as he fucks you with his fingers, hand splaying across your ass as he angles you up towards him. It feels too good despite being as overstimulated as you were. Your face smooshed into the pillow, your ass high in the air as you arch your back, you were a sight to behold.

“I know I said one more doll, but ya just looked too damn good with me leakin’ outta ya like that. C’mon baby, one more f’me.” it’s not long until you’re clamping his fingers once more, orgasming weaker than the last three but strong enough to knock the wind from your lungs, knees finally collapsing as you land on your stomach. ‘That’s my fuckin’ girl.”

You pant as you try and catch your breath, chest heaving as he collapses beside you, cleanup can wait a few minutes. Frank pulls you to his chest, kissing atop your sweaty forehead as you twitch in his hold, the brutal assault of your core still sending aftershocks through your body. Even though Frank can be rough sometimes like this, he always knows exactly what you need afterwards, taking such good care of you.

“So proud of you sweetheart, did so good.” he whispers softly into your hair as he calmly runs his fingers through the messy strands. “So fuckin’ perfect.” You hum appreciatively in his arms, feeling at ease and safe in his hold.

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a/n: im sorry if this seemed shorter or rushed, i didnt proofread LOL i just started freakposting and the rest was herstory. i hope you enjoyed <3

my inbox is open!

[kaiser1ns]

The night is still young, they said, with the club still buzzing with chatter, loud music, and DANTE SPARDA leaned against the side of the bar, swirling his glass of half-drunk whiskey, when he spotted a familiar, wobbly figure stumbling out of the women's bathroom door.

(Name) was an eternal beauty—even drunk off her ass, even barefoot now with one heel swinging dangerously in her hand. The champagne dress clung to her, or at least it tried to, her hair wild but still looking gorgeous, her eyes suspiciously inspecting her surroundings as she tried to stay upright.

Dante grinned, getting up from his seat, leaving some money on the counter next to the unfinished drink. Oh, this is going to be good.

“Hey, princess,” he called, stepping toward her. Without warning, she shrieked and threw her heel at him like a makeshift dagger, or like a catapult, either way she used all her strength, even though she was not in a sober state. How cute.

He caught it midair, laughing. “Easy there, Tiger. I’m not here to mug you.”

(Name) blinked, squinting at him. Her nose wrinkled adorably. “Who—who the hell are you?” she slurred, swaying slightly.

He spun her heel lazily in his hand. “Just a guy lookin’ out for a lady in distress.”

She pouted. Pouted. This is their best "date" so far, especially when she's not making fun of him or playing hard to get. “M’not in distress. M’fine. Jus’... jus’ tired. Damn dress... stupid shoes…”

Dante chuckled, slipping her shoe into his coat pocket. “Sure you are, sweetheart. Come on, lemme walk you home.”

She eyed him suspiciously, clearly debating if he was trustworthy. Then she nodded, swaying again, and nearly face planted into him. He caught her easily, steadying her with hands at her waist, as he gently squeezed her, clearly enjoying how vulnerable she is right now.

“You’re warm,” she mumbled into his chest, snuggling more into him. “And you’re drunk,” he teased, looping her arm around his to keep her close.

They started walking, the fresh air hitting just right, and now left with one heel clacking against the pavement when she tried to limp along on one foot before finally giving up and walking barefoot.

Halfway down the block, she sighed dramatically. “You know, you’re real cute for a stranger.”

Dante smirked. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” She hiccupped, twirling a lock of her hair, unintentionally making his heartbeat go faster, “Got a stupid face.”

“A stupid face?” She nodded, almost falling over again. He gripped her tighter.

“Y’know what’s worse?” she continued, voice rising. “I got a crush on someone with a stupid handsome face like yours.”

He bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Really? Must be tough for a lady like you.”

“It is!” she whined. “He’s got this dumb perfect hair and a dumb voice that makes my knees all jelly and a body that's—ugh—so unfair!”

Dante couldn’t resist. He leaned closer, very much amused and intrigued by her description of her stupid crush. “Sounds like a real pain in the ass, sweetheart.”

“You don’t even know!” she slurred, poking his chest with one finger. “I see him and I’m like—” She made a frustrated noise and waved her arms dramatically, nearly smacking him in the face. “Why is he so hot? So annoying most of the time, but he's so kind and caring about me. Why does he make me lose all my senses and can't think straight?”

He was dying inside. Absolutely dying.

They reached her door, and Dante leaned her against the wall while she fumbled for her keys, muttering curses about “pretty demon boys” under her breath.

Finally, she turned around, glaring up at him with eyes that left him without the right to choose or say anything. “You stay.”

The demon hunter blinked, grin pulling wider. “Stay? Isn't letting a stranger into your home a little dangerous?”

She nodded, tugging him clumsily by the front of his red coat. “Stay 'cause I need to rant more about my stupid crush with his stupid blue eyes and his stupid cocky smile, and stupid abs...”

He leaned down, nose brushing hers, teasingly close. “Sounds like you got it bad, babe.”

“You have no idea,” she whispered, wide-eyed. He caught her chin gently between his fingers, lifting her face. Looking at her with those eyes and a smile, teasing and challenging her. “Maybe I do.”

(Name) blinked, squinting harder, vision slowly clearing. Her breath hitched.

“Wait a damn minute...” she slurred suspiciously, poking at his cheek. “You... you look like him…”

He laughed, warm and low, gently cupping her face, “Surprise, sweetheart.”

Before she could say another word, or throw her earring at him, he swept her up effortlessly, carrying her inside.

“Don’t worry,” Dante said, voice smug and fond as hell. “We’ll talk about your stupid crush in the morning. Over some pizza, my treat.”

(Name) just sighed against his chest, a little smile appearing on her face. “Stupid handsome jerk...”

And Dante? He’d never been happier to be called stupid in his whole damn life.

©2025 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[sybariticpetals]

thinking about matt murdock who comes home from a night of vigilantism, head buried between your legs - which are draped over his broad shoulders, soft gasps and whimpers spilling from your lips, parted and rosied from how hungrily he had kissed you just moments before.

how his hands are clinging into the soft flesh of your thighs, fingernails leaving crescent shaped indents. you're not going anywhere, but he wants to make sure of it. each time you buck your hips to get closer to him, get more relief, his forearms force your hips back down to the couch with a disciplinary groan. he hasn't even changed out of his clothes - clad in black fabric that clung to every muscle that threatened to tear through the fabric entirely - his eyes hooded with his bandana.

"stay down." he orders, and you listen, despite the selfish urge to lift your hips again.

he's hungry for you - tongue lapping at your cunt, nose pressed deliciously against your clit. he's burying himself into you as deeply as he can. he doesn't even take a break to breathe, and when he finally does, he's gasping - only for a millisecond - trying to take in as much air as possible before latching back onto you, the sound of the slick of your wetness and his tongue making your head dizzy.

"matt-" you manage, his name elongated and ascending from a strained moan. all he does is moan in response, his cock, unbeknownst to you, throbbing and straining against the fabric of his pants with every noise you make. he can hear your heartbeat, thumping rapidly, almost nervous he's going to cause you to have a heart attack.

he likes it this way.

he doesn't even need to ask if you're close. you tell him anway, and he's already ahead of you - two fingers stuffed into your pussy, rapidly pumping them at an almost inhuman speed. your throat is raw from how fast you're breathing, intense ragged breathing from how someone could fuck you this good without missing a beat. you feel your orgasm rip through you, and matt doesn't stop. you try to pull your hips away this time, trying to fight the overstimulation of his mouth sucking your clit, and he forces you down once more. this time, he pulls you to him, not letting you fight the pleasure. he wants you to feel every bit of it. the way his tongue works in tandem with his lips, tiny licks as his mouth works mercilessly, fingers fucking in and out of your slick. you feel tears brimming in your eyes, white-knuckled as your hands find purchase on the couch cushions. it's really all you have, considering you can't tug his hair.

matt is gone. a man starved. he drinks you up, lapping at your pussy as he pulls his fingers from you. when he's sure you've finished, listening to the steadiness of your heartbeat slowly decline back to its normal speed, he immediately dives his fingers into his mouth, sucking your slick off of them. moaning around them, he crawls up to you, still nestled between your legs.

"taste." he orders, and you oblige, cheeks flushed and tear-stained as your tongue runs along the underside of his fingers, only for a moment before he gently pushes them knuckle deep into your mouth.

"god-" he breathes, breaking his own morals, his cock twitching as your mouth delicately pulls his fingers in. "you know whose you are, yeah?" he coos, nodding as he waits for your response. "yours." you reply immediately, the word trapped around his fingers. "that's right." he hums, removing his fingers before replacing them with his mouth.

"again." he demands.

"i'm yours, matt."

you don't know what he saw tonight that made him so posessive, or what danger could have possibly caused him to act so intensely - like he was afraid you'd somehow be gone when he reaturned.

"i know you are. and i love you."

[tiramissyoucake]

GODDDD THE PATHETIC MARK I SWEEAAAARRR WOOOOOOFFFFFFFFFF IM GOING INSANEËÊĘĖ

I got a grosser one for you and I'm using this chance to word vomit about it.

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI

CW: masturbation (no nut), shirt sniffing, Mark gets caught

Staying over was fun for Mark, he gets to take in your room's surroundings, know more than he already does and being around you all the time was the best part. Although you were still a person with responsibilities, and these days Mark's schedule was emptier than yours.

He'd wake up to see you get dressed, catching a goodbye kiss just in time and other times he'd wake up with a note and a quick breakfast (those were the worst, but the food was good.), he'd always be home waiting for you, he saw no purpose in going back to his place when he could greet you when you're home.

The hours were agonisingly slow as he tried to do whatever around your home, clean up, loaf around, dishes, anything. Today he decided to clean up your bedroom just a bit, your messes were much more manageable than his own, stray clothes and misplaced items.

He was half way through separating a few clean and dirty clothes, he figured he'd toss these in the laundry after when he stopped at one of your T-shirts, there was a distinct smell, the one he's come to associate with you.

... No. He shouldn't. His hands clutched the shirt, lowering it just a bit, who cares if it smells like you? It's not like he'll die without taking a whiff, that same scent that floods his senses when he cuddles you, when he buries his face in your neck or your chest.. or... when he kisses you after you come see him..

He doesn't need it. He's better than this. He was Invincible for God's sake.

The internal struggle went on but Mark was proud of himself for rationalising, peeking at the shirt after throwing it aside, it taunted him.

Mark furrowed his eyebrows, glancing at his watch, it would still be 2 hours before you were off work.

... he lied, he's not better than this.

Harshly snatching the shirt from your bed he pressed the fabric to his nose immediately, taking a long sniff he shuddered as the thought of you flooded him, how did you always smell so good?

Falling to his side on the bed, he hugged the shirt closely while breathing it in, taking a short pant between each whiff he took. The lingering scent on your bed, the shirt, the softness of the mattress and sheets, this was his personal little heaven.

He whimpered as one hand kept the shirt up to his nose while the other moved down his own body, slipping past his waist band, he felt so disgusting, touching himself while sniffing your clothes. He didn't care right now, he needed this.

Tugging down his pants, his hand immediately got to fisting his cock, your shirt helped fuel the fantasies; memories from previous nights where you let him fuck you until his balls were drained, fantasies of things he wanted to do to you. He let out small moans into the fabric, face flushed as he bit his bottom lip.

Mark laid on his back, clutching the cloth in his fist as he kept it up to his face while his hand eagerly moved up and down on his cock, a quiet squelching noise underlayed by his moaning and whimpering even after it was muffled into your shirt.

"Babe?" His eyes shot open, sitting up quickly to make himself decent, his scrambling caused his knee to slip off the edge of the bed, tumbling down to the ground.

Mark grimaced as he heard you let out a small laugh, tugging up his pants quickly and using the bed as some kind of cover, his face was beet red, mortified.

"Babe, are you okay?" You asked while walking around the bed, in your work attire but loosened. "Bad time?"

He sputtered, he didn't realize he was still clenching the shirt. "N-no, I was just- uhm, your shir- your clothes. I wanted to.. clean up the place- just a little, it's.. it's nice but I wanted to help."

"By touching yourself while sniffing my shirt." Damn it. He hoped you would just lie to him and let him save face.

He stayed quiet, ashamed as he stood up. "... 'm sorry, I-I just didn't see you this morning and I just.. got this idea and- y-y'know how people's minds work when they're horny..? They're actually less disgusted..! ... sooo..." he was digging himself a deeper hole by rambling.

You smiled, cupping his cheek and kissing the corner of his lips. "I don't mind, babe. It's... kinda cute? Plus, who's to say I didn't touch myself to those pictures you send me?"

His erection returned almost tenfold at that, perking up. "... really? You really do?"

You shrugged, a smug smile on your face.

He'll send you more photos if you let him sniff your shirt every once in a while.

[chezeni]

Caleb would, without a doubt, continue trying until he has a daughter with you.

It doesn’t matter how long it takes, or how many tries it takes. If you’re okay with it, he’s more than willing to pounce on you to make the most of your ovulation week.

Those attempts would mean that in the long run, the two of you would bring three sons into the world, each of whom, comically enough, was an exact little copy of their father with the most minuscule hints of you.

Your oldest, Theo, was born about two years after your marriage. He had Caleb’s sunset eyes and facial structure, only taking after you in the colour of your hair. He took pride in caring for his younger brothers and was proudly Caleb’s right-hand man in smaller tasks where he needed assistance. Both refused to let you help around the house when they were there.

A year later, you had Jamie, who had your eyes but resembled Caleb in all other aspects—hair, nose, etc.

Then came your youngest son, Reian, a year after Jamie—a quiet two-year-old who was Caleb’s exact copy. At his birth, Caleb had looked up at you with a soft grin as he’d cradled the baby against his muscled chest.

“Seems like third time isn’t the charm, honey, your genes just can’t beat mine.” He’d murmured teasingly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as the nurse sent him a side-eye.

Now, with the kids at six, five and four respectively, you and Caleb tried for one more.

While he loves his sons with his whole heart and would kill for them at a moment’s notice, he never stopped thinking about how precious it would be to have a little you running around your expansive home in Skyhaven.

With all the noise his boys cause, it felt strange to think about how there’d been a time when it was just him living alone in this very house. It wasn’t ’ 'til you’d moved in with him, thawed away at his frozen aerospace militant heart slowly that the place felt more homey.

Still, the house felt… lacking to Caleb. It was too skewed at one gender while poor you had to deal with your three—four, if you count your almost equally childish husband—boys.

Caleb had made sure each of his sons was dutiful and kindhearted, especially towards their mama. Still, there was a light-hearted culture of jest in the house, since they’d unfortunately inherited Caleb’s terrible sense of humour, and it was mostly peaceful unless they’d planned otherwise, like when the three thought it’d be hilarious to march one by one into your bedroom after dividing Caleb’s Fleet uniform amongst each other and yell like drill sergeants to wake you up.

But during the night, when it was just the two of you behind a locked door and hands over the other’s mouth, he caught himself acting on certain rumours he’d heard that would supposedly make a girl. Be it a certain position, or whispering some kind of prayer into your ear during the act. It’d surprised him, having never been superstitious in his life but now resorting to old wives’ tales with little feasible evidence behind them.

You’d giggled when he’d shared it with you one night as he treated you to a snack and some water, holding you against his chest and murmuring into your hair. “Maybe you’re getting old.” You laughed softly. “I’ve only ever seen old ladies believing in things like that, my love.”

He scoffed softly, smiling down at you. “Don’t you also want a girl? The boys are lovely, sweetheart, and I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or anything, but a cute little girl.” He pouts. “I just know she’d be so adorable, honey.”

Whatever it was that Caleb had tried to do, it’d somehow worked. Not even a year later, you welcomed a daughter into the house, and Caleb’s years-long wish had come true oh, so perfectly. He was bad enough during the pregnancy when you’d found out you were having a girl at about 20 weeks, but now that she was here? You’d have to pry that sweet little ball of cuteness away from him with a crowbar the way he’d insisted on holding her all the time.

He was ecstatic, and how could he not be? His little angel had her mother’s nose, a full head of slightly wavy hair and his eyes. One look at her and he’d cried for days, even more so when she finally came home with you.

“Thank you, honey. She’s so sweet to me already, and so adorable. Our boys are adorable too but—” He pauses, looking down at her in awe when she yawns softly, an exaggerated pout over his lips as he looks down at her comfortably curled up on his chest. “Oh, my sweet baby girl.”

…And when you did try to take her from him?

“N-no! Please! Wait two more minutes.” He begged softly, gently kissing her little forehead. So dramatic, you thought, smiling fondly. After Ailea was born, she’d stolen Caleb’s heart, and it was difficult to take her back into your arms to feed her when Caleb refused to let her go. “She doesn’t look hungry to me, honey, I think you’re just trying to steal my little angel from me.“

“She’s my baby too…”

But he’d already turned back to little Ailea, once more engrossed in his daughter’s cute giggles. “You’re okay, my sweet girl, aren’t you? My perfect angel doesn’t even fuss like her stinky brothers did.”

“Hey!” Came a resounding protest from the living room. Caleb smiles. “They know I love them just as much.” He murmurs to Ailea.

[atebyflowers]

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ thinking about masturbating on the phone with mean ellie . . you guys weren't dating — not even close. and she was very adamant about needing her personal space and not wanting anything serious. so it was embarrassing for you, to be calling her so desperately, at such a late time in the night. you were staying with your parents away from college [and her] for the winter break, and had tried everything you could to get your release. even resorting to watching old videos of the two of you together, but nothing was working.

of course you debated it for a while, afraid she'd be mad you woke her up or interrupted a hook up between her and another girl. but you gave it a chance anyways, eventually to horny to give a fuck what she responded. "who is this?" she questioned, her tone no different than it was most of the time — causing you to let of a sigh of release, at least she wasn't sleeping. "ellie?" you said, your voice immediately hitting her ears with recognition. "oh hey it's you" she responded, you on the other end — layed underneath your sheets, desperate for something out of her. "did you need something..?" she asked, breaking you out of your minute long silence. "yea actually" you spoke, hearing a shuffling on the other end before actual words. "well? what is it, kind of busy here babe" she added. you were hesitant again, something about actually hearing her voice scared a bit of sense into you.. but not enough to erase the ache your body felt. "i... um.." you paused, hoping she'd somehow catch on. but you knew you were out of luck when she told you to speak up and stop wasting time. "i can't make myself cum" you spit out, another sigh of relief, heavier than the first one, leaving your body.

it was silent on her end fo a moment before she started to laugh to herself, "you called me because you're horny? jesus y/n.. didn't know you were this much of a whore" she responded, "well go on then, touch yourself for me baby" — the only instructions you needed before slipping your hands down to your cunt, heavy breathing being received on her end as you toued with your clit. "that's it.. let me hear her" she spoke, referring to your body as separate people. you, moving the phone lower towards your wetness, "speed up" she ordered — and you did just that, the sounds of your juices and fingers merging in harmony as you let out soft noises, careful not to be loud. "i need you s-so bad els.." you confessed pathetically, "mmm i bet huh, can't even make yourself feel good without me.. such a stupid slut" she said, getting a few more desperate whines out of you. m close els.." you told her and she hummed, "you wanna cum for me baby? let me hear how desperate you are for me" her words sent you dizzy. "y-yes- i wanna cum for you fuck, wanna-"

you were cut off by a beeping noise, the line going dead just as you were about to release.

"ellie??" confused, dizzy and egar for the orgasm you had been waiting for all week — you received no response, prompting you to sit up, opening the chat with a single shaky hand and texting her.

y/n: what happened?

you sent, and minutes went by before she responded. you — sitting sweaty and uncomfortable as you waited for something, attempting to call her back twice but receiving no answer. . until your phone finally went off.

from ellie: sorry. bedtime sweetheart. meet me when you get back to town, maybe i'll let you finish in person ;)

she responded, your mouth left agape as you read the text.

fucking bitch you whined to yourself, irritated, a few tears welling in your eyes as you were left with nothing but a cramped hand and leftover wetness still unfulfilled. you should've known it was to good to be true, how quickly she responded to your initial needs . . she really did love torturing you as much as possible.

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎

a.n: this is unedited so ignore any spelling mistakes please and ty 🙌🏼