#~my blurbs~

[rudysbabymama]

My Readers

(All rights belong to me! If you would like to use them you may request in asks or dms but ask permission first and give me credits!. I take requests for all types of readers, mine that I make from my ideas are mostly going to be blonde bc I’m blonde but if you want you may ask for specific features you want me to add!)

bubbly!reader🫧🦋🤠

starwars!reader💫🤍🌼

daughter of Aphrodite!reader🧚🏼‍♀️🌷🦢

littlemermaid!reader🧜🏼‍♀️🦪🐡

~sweetcherub!reader~🐎🌷🍎

[partiallysame]

Butcher!Simon

- Butcher!Simon who was having the slowest day until you walked in. The jingle of the door bell brought his eyes to your pretty frame stepping in his shop

- Butcher!Simon who watched you a little too intently as you looked at each cut of meat in his display case.

- Butcher!Simon who raised his eyebrows in amusement when you pointed and asked so sweetly for “that one”.

- Butcher!Simon who had to hold in a genuine laugh when he asked you “Tri tip or flank” to which you responded with “yes” and the cutest look on your face

- Butcher!Simon who had to grab onto his apron to ground himself when he said “I gave you two options sweet’art” and you blushed so embarrassed looking at him with the sweetest innocent eyes.

- Butcher!Simon who asked “you ever been in a butcher shop before” and when you shook your head no he did let out a laugh. “Talk to me sweet’art. What’re you making and then I can get ya what ya need.”

- Butcher!Simon who listened so intently when you described the meal you wanted to make, hoping to impress your boss and his wife.

- Butcher!Simon who went into the back to get you his best cut and wrote down instructions on how to cook it.

- Butcher!Simon who’s heart swelled up when you walked in the next day so excited to tell him that it went well and to thank him for

- Butcher!Simon who wasn’t going to let you walk out the door again without getting your number (and giving you his favorite cut of meat and promising to cook it for you)

[nanaslutt]

nanami overstimulating himself to make sure his pretty gf gets off >.<

minors and ageless blogs dni

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ ࿔

telling nanami “don’t stop” when he’s fucking you because youre sooo close, but he’s at his limit. he tries to relax his kegels so he lasts longer but he can’t help it, it feels too good and you’re so tight around him as you’re working up to your orgasm he can’t help but cum inside you

he keeps fucking you though his orgasm, teeth gritted and eyes rolling back in his head. all he wants to do is freeze up and let his body jerk and flex and he fills you up, but he can’t just leave you unsatisfied. it’s taking everything in him not to stop thrusting, his groans are so loud in your ears.

he abruptly pulls you on top of him and bounces you in his lap, his legs are shaking from overstimulation but he needs you to get there. “use me, make yourself come on me sweetheart.” his words are rushed and breathy, but he manages to get them out. you place your hands on his chest and slow your bouncing, feeling his come start to drip out of you.

“but you already came, ken.” you reason, your voice just as ruined as his as he helps you rock your hips back and forth on his pelvis. his cock is twitching, and his abs are spamming from overstimulation. every atom in his body is telling him to stop fucking you because it’s too much, it feels too good it hurts, but he can’t leave you hanging.

“i know, finish yourself off. don’t worry about me, I can take it.” and take it he does. you start bouncing on his lap and nanami has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from crying out. his tip is so sensitive and you keep thrusting it right against your sweet spot, it’s making him dizzy.

nananmi’s thighs are pressed together to tight, his legs are nearly crossing as his body tries to excape from the painful pleasure, but he grunts and breaths through it. he’s already hard again, forced to get up from your warm walls fucking him and sucking him in. it doesn’t help that you’re so much wetter from his orgasm now, it’s so fucking much tears well in his eyes.

“kento, kento.” you cry, and nanami nods, biting his lip as he forces his eyes open to find your clit with his thumb. he rubs quick, sloppy circles against the little bud, his body shaking and jerking when he feels your walls tighten around him. “come, come honey, f-fuck.” he doesn’t curse a lot during sex, but this called for it.

the second he feels you orgasm around him, his balls draw up and he’s cumming too. his back arches and he wraps his arms around you, keeping you flush against him and still while he fills you up. his eyes are crossed and he swears he’s seeing stars behind his eyes from his hard he’s cumming.

“don’t move.” he grunts in your ear, his sensitive cock twitching with his aftershocks against your walls. if you moved again he would pass out, his tip is probably so red it’s going to ache when he pulls it out of you. “don’t move until… until i tell you to.” he grunts out, biting his lip as he feels his cum overflow from your pussy and drip down his dick.

[littlelamy]

“okay, but i’m serious this time,” you said, squirming back against the beach towel while rafe kissed down your stomach. “don’t, like.. do that thing with your tongue unless you’re prepared.”

he looked up from where his mouth hovered over your mound, brow raised, lips already shiny. “what thing? baby, my tongue’s got a long menu. you’re gonna need to be more specific.”

“you know what i mean!” you whined, wiggling under him, hands braced on his shoulders. “the curl..that evil curl thing. the one that makes my legs do the funky chicken.”

“ah,” he said, smiling slow. “you mean the soul-eater..noted.”

“you’re such a dick.”

“you love my dick,” he said, pressing a kiss right at the top of your slit, grinning when your whole body jumped. “and my tongue. and me.” you groaned, covering your face with one arm. “yes, i love you, now shut up and get back to work.”

“say please,” he said, licking a line from your entrance to your clit. your hips jerked automatically.

you gasped, “please..”

“good girl..” his hands instantly gripped the insides of your thighs, holding you open with casual strength, and then he buried his face between your legs like you were his first meal in a full-blown year.

you let out the loudest moan and whimper, “oh my gosh, rafe—”

his tongue worked you slow at first. lazy licks that teased more than they gave; he wanted you to whine, wanted you to squirm maybe even cry. he flattened his tongue, dragged it up your slit, then sucked your clit between his lips with obscene gentleness.

“you’re so wet already,” he said, pulling back just long enough to breathe against you. “what’s got you this needy, huh? was it the swimsuit? me telling you to bend over for sunscreen?”

“yes,” you gasped, toes curling. “you were rude about it!”

“i was honest.” he went right back in, licking with more purpose now, mouth noisy and shameless. your back arched, fingers twisting in his hair.

“rafe—fuck—oh oh my, don’t stop—” it's very obvious he didn't; his tongue flicked over your clit, faster now, then slower, then fast again. he knew exact what he was doing, and he wanted you to know that he knew. his fingers dug into your thighs to try and still your body, but you couldn’t help it, your hips rocked against his face, chasing everything you could.

“you taste so fuckin’ good,” he groaned, teasing you, “like fuckin’ candy..my pink sugar pussy?”

“you’re disgusting,” you moaned, your whole body tensing.

“and you’re about to cum.”

“no i’m not,” you lied immediately, not giving him the satisfaction.

he pulled back, blinked up at you, lips wet. “baby..”

you blinked down at him, wide-eyed, panting. “what?”

“you’re clenching like you’ve got a gun to your head. even your eyes are crossing, just cum.”

“don’t tell me to cum like it’s that easy—” as soon as he curled his tongue, you shrieked. it wasn’t a scream, exactly. more like a choked-out cry that you didn’t even recognize. your legs snapped around his head, body jerking from the immense pleasure and liquid coming from you.

your eyes flew open in panic. “rafe—” he pulled back, arousal dripping, stunned for half a second, then a proud grin graced his very attractive face.

“holy shit, you just squirted.” your face went nuclear. “oh my god—oh my gosh—no i didn’t—”

“you did! baby, i felt it hit my face! i saw it! dammit baby i felt it!” you tried to close your legs but he held them open, just staring at the mess. the towel underneath you was soaked. his chest was damp, and his chin was shiny.

“i—i think you broke me,” you wailed, covering your face. “i’m never coming back from this. i’m dead. bury me in the sand.”

he leaned up, kissed your wet thigh, nipped it with his teeth. “you’re so fuckin’ cute,” he said, voice softer now. “embarrassed over something that just made me hard as fuck.”

“you’re so annoying!”

“you’re so sensitive now. i could just look at your pussy and you’d flinch.” you whimpered as he blew cool air on your clit and laughed when you jerked. “stop! i’m tender!”

“i know, baby,” he said, crawling up to kiss your mouth, not caring at all that his face was soaked with you. “you’re perfect.”

“i can’t believe—”

“believe it,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. “you squirted all over my face like the good little mess you are.”

“i’m never letting you go down on me again.”

“you say that every time.”

“i mean it this time.”

he just smiled, pressed his hand over your fluttering belly, right where the orgasm had wrecked you. “sure, sweetheart,” he said. “until next time.”

coco's notes: i’m having soooo much fun writing for chichi right now! and i just wanted to say the BIGGEST thank you for 5k followers—i’m seriously so grateful that any of you even take the time to read my stuff, let alone follow me! closer to the end of the month, a 5k celebration will be post so def look out for that!

❤︎‬ tags below

taglist𑄽𑄺: @rafesbabygirlx @namelesslosers @drewsephrry @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafedaddy01 @rafesangelita @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @@ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @lil-sparklqueen @rafessweetgirl @esquivelbianca @p45510n4f4shi0n @palomavz @cokewithcameron @donaldsonsgirl @yncoded @lilbunnysfics @solaceluna @icaqttt @alphabetically-deranged @wintercrows @st8rkey @nemesyaaa

[plainclothesdisaster]

DPxDC Mechanical Engineer Danny

Danny caught the attention of Batman while studying at Gotham University for his alternative energy projects. He’s hired right out of college to work on the Watchtower.

He shows absolutely no tell of his abilities till there’s a dire situation- Flash’s electric discharge messes with one of his projects in progress and the whole base would have lost air pressure if he hadn’t done a quick fix using telekinesis and ice.

Of course Batman notices.

Batman assumes the worst- he suspects Danny’s a rogue of some kind, someone who has infiltrated the Justice League with an ulterior motive. But he can’t just fire Danny now- he’s the only one who knows how the new Watchtower energy source works. Plus, he’s not letting Danny go anywhere until he’s figured out his true motives.

Cue Batman subtly testing Danny- tossing things at him to trigger inhuman fast reflexes, having him lift too-heavy machinery, setting up convenient opportunities to steal or snoop or otherwise be up to no good. Danny does take advantage but only once, to use a computer terminal with unlocked clearance. He didn’t plant any bugs that Barman could find, and he otherwise kept up his powerless civilian act perfectly.

Still, Batman’s not satisfied. He brings an infrasonic sound emitter to Danny’s lab one day, and that, of all things, is what gets Danny to break.

“I know what you’re doing,” Danny admits with a sigh, finally. “If you’re really that suspicious of me, I can leave, but I kinda like my job so I’d prefer not to. The benefits are insane compared to what’s standard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. yeah. How about you turn off the freaking noise generator and we can talk?”

“Hm.” Batman obliges, and he takes the stool next to Danny at his gesture.

“Number one, I’m not a meta. Despite all the data and conclusions you’ve probably drawn otherwise. Number two, I’m on your side. I’m here to work on the base, that’s it. I follow your rules to the letter.”

“The-“

“The classified files I looked at? Yeah that was the one exception. You already know what I looked at, I’m sure, but maybe you haven’t figured out why. It goes back to point one- I may not be a meta, but I am something that organization, the GIW, cares about. I looked at your files on them to sus out your relations. Seeing as I don’t particularly love being the victim to twelve degrees of human rights violations if I can avoid it.”

“Hm.” The Ghost Intelligence Ward was one of many government agencies that the Justice League hadn’t worked closely with. But they also hadn’t been flagged for Justice League investigation. Danny’s comments made him doubt that call.

“Any other questions?”

“If you’re not a meta, what are you?”

“I’m an engineer. A pretty decent one. And I’d really, really like it to stay that way.”

Batman considers, and ultimately lets him stay. He likes Danny (everyone likes Danny), and it would be a massive pain in the ass to replace him. He really is a good engineer.

It’s only much later that his faith in Danny is repaid in spades.

Batman finds Danny on the Watchtower command bridge. Alarms are blaring, the station has been knocked out of orbit, out the window there’s shrapnel floating everywhere as a space battle rages around them.

On the station it’s chaos. Technicians run around, shouts from the med bay, sparks from the walls.

Batman and Danny stand at the main controls, watching the battle outside, stoic, unmoving.

Wonder Woman’s harried voice crackles through on coms: “We need backup.”

“There is no more backup.” Batman replies, while looking pointedly at Danny.

“What?”

Batman doesn’t move.

“What.”

“The impact from Darkseid’s initial attack should have sent this station on a terminal trajectory toward the planet.”

“Well. We aren’t currently plummeting to our deaths, so turns out it didn’t do that.”

“You did something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe Superman nudged us back on course in all the chaos.”

“I’ve been watching the trackers. No one else with the capability has come near the station.”

“Can’t you just be grateful we got lucky?”

Sounds of peril screech over the coms. Danny’s face scrunches.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. As it is now, we are going to lose this fight.”

“Isn’t there anyone else you can call?”

“I’m asking you. You can help, can’t you?”

The glare-off lasts a long moment more before Danny breaks.

“Fuck. Fuckity fuck.” Danny runs his hands through his hair. “Shit. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you to save this and countless other worlds from a genocide. I’m also asking you to save my friends.”

Danny looks at him, hard, weary, and with a kind of deep resolve that feels far too ancient to be on the face of a supposed twenty-something.

“Fine. Fine. Okay.” He steps back and transforms. If Batman is surprised when he shakes off his human appearance like an old coat, he doesn’t show it. But what’s undeniable is the being in Danny’s place has the unmistakable presence of power.

“No one else can know.” His voice echoes in a way that’s sonically impossible, both sounding closer and further away than he should be.

He pulls a gear-shaped medallion seemingly out of thin air and puts it over his head in one motion.

“If I get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you.”

He vanishes. Outside, the shape of the battle changes instantly. The stars seem to glow brighter as the arms of the galaxy flash with the colors of the aurora. Then it’s like the void of space itself comes alive. It moves the spaceships back like they’re toys, plucking them from one side of the field to the other. It finds Darkseid at the heart of the chaos and massive arms of nothingness and darkness wrap around him. He’s screaming as it swallows him whole.

His armies scatter. The battle turns. The JL deal with the stragglers, but the air of relief is palpable.

Danny reappears next to Batman, once again donning his grease-stained coveralls. Arms folded.

“Happy?”

It took all of five minutes. Less, probably. Batman tamps down a thousand questions.

“Thank you.”

“I’m gonna need two weeks off minimum.” Danny snaps. “One to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare you’ve just caused me, and another to recover from the headache.”

Batman blanks. “Granted.”

Danny sighs. “And I’m not fixing the station until I’m back. It won’t fall out of the sky as is. Make up whatever excuse you want.”

“Done.” He considers. “I would prefer to tell them the truth. That you saved us.”

Danny glares. “I’m not supposed to save you. I made a pact not to use my power to influence the mortal realm.”

“A pact with who?”

Danny rolls his eyes. “The embodiment of Time. The concept of Justice. Among others.” He smirks at Batman’s confusion.

“And what, exactly, does that make you?”

He stands, framed by the space window, haloed by the stars. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Batman frowns.

“Look. I like you guys. I like working on your base. I like supporting the work you do. But you can not go factoring me in to any of your plans or contingencies. This was a one time thing.

“So to answer your question again: I’m an engineer.”

[carpboy3000]

Excerpt from A Pre-Rapture Pictorial History, 3rd Edition, p. 356: “...Of what can be translated from the surviving art and literature, Helianthian Summer solstices were days of song, spent in fields. The Farmer Queen is accredited with the composition of many of these melodies, some of which survive vestigially amongst modern-day citizens of Sanctuary.1”

[crsssie]

down the neck - spencer reid x sharpshooter!reader

"Stop breathing down my neck." You huff, glancing through the scope at the unsub.

"Well, I have to lay low too, no?" Spencer frowns.

"It doesn't matter." You squint, humming. "Hit the button and ask Hotch if I can shoot. Be fast."

"Hotch, we have a clear shot."

"I have a clear shot."

"Snippy—"

"Fire."

You click your tongue, pulling the trigger once to hit the unsub's hand and a second to snipe the gun out of range as Morgan flies into the place. You watch through the scope as Spencer looks through the binoculars, and you only start to sit up when you see Morgan pull the unsub out. Then, you actually sit up and start packing up.

"Stop breathing down my neck." You huff.

"You weren't complaining when I—"

You hold a finger to your lips, pointing at your earpiece as Spencer blinks, laughing when you hear a cough in your ears from Hotch.

"Sorry."

"Need I remind you both of—"

"Nope." You puff out your cheeks, slinging the gun around to your back as Spencer raises a brow. "Actually, I think Reid needs a quick reminder. He'd love to go through another HR meeting about how we shouldn't be fraternizing with—"

"We're good, Hotch." Spencer cuts you off, rolling his eyes at you. "We'll see you back at the station."

"You're driving." You mumble, turning off your mic. "Two dollars and I'll drive. Four dollars and I'll make a stop at McDonalds."

"And for five?"

"I'll sneak in a kiss plus everything else."

"I think that can be arranged." He hums, pulling out a five as you press your lips to his, tongue swiping over your bottom lips as he chases when you pull away. You stick your tongue out teasingly as you take the five, craning your neck so that his lips would hit your neck instead. "Hey."

"I'll drop a ten if you—"

"Reid."

You laugh as Spencer jolts straight, pinching the bridge of his nose at the sound of Hotch.

"Turn off your mic next time."

"Roger that, sir."

You're too busy laughing the rest of the way back to be able to drive. (but spencer has no complaints when you hand him back the five with a chaste kiss to his lips).

[rafey-baby]

older!rafe can’t always be mean to his delicate flower, can he?

c/w: fluff with a little bit of angst in the beginning, rafe feeding sensitive!reader pasta, slight subspace, smut: oral (f receiving), overstimulation, use of daddy & dad, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2k

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

Sock-covered feet pad along the hardwood floors when she finally hears the lock of the front door turning. Rafe’s home later than usual— a fact she’s entirely too aware of since she’s been impatiently waiting for him to return ever since he left her this morning without so much as a goodbye.  

Usually, she’d stir awake to him smearing kisses all over her face and mumbling sweetened words about how much he’s going to miss her during his meetings— sometimes even wake her up with his cock prodding at her entrance before fucking her all sleepy and sloppy until she’s a sobbing mess.   

However, she assumes he was still mad at her because she forgot to let him know she was going out for drinks after her lecture before her battery had died. Therefore, she hadn’t received his several calls or the texts filled with concern and only a few hours later, did she remember that she’d never actually sent the message regarding her whereabouts.  

When he came to pick her up after she’d borrowed her friend’s phone in order to reach him, he was clearly displeased; merely muttering out a “ask you to do one thing and you can’t even do that. You know how fuckin’ worried I was?” and crudely telling her to go sleep in the guest room because “daddy doesn’t feel like dealing with your shit tonight”, which had resulted in wet droplets surfacing to her waterline while she kept apologizing over and over again, but to no avail.   

In the morning, she’d woken up to a tear-stained pillowcase and a headache. And when she tiptoed over to the bathroom, she realized that the entire house was desolate; he hadn’t even left a note.   

Therefore, she’s not exactly sure how to approach him, hesitant in her movements before she sees him in front of her in all his glory.   

“Hi,” her voice is quiet, but her forlorn face lights up nonetheless. 

Rafe is in the process of mindlessly kicking off his shoes when he looks up; a tired smile tugging at his lips when she practically tumbles into his arms in a greeting.  

“Missed you,” she mumbles against his crisp button up when he rests his big hands on her hips in an attempt to steady her.   

“Missed you too,” he murmurs into her hair. “Got you somethin’,” he reluctantly pulls away in order to present her with a bouquet of pink lilies; her favorites.  

“What’s this for?” her moony eyes stare up at him in bewilderment.  

“Drove past a flower shop…guess they made me think of you,” he admits, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek; confusing her to no end.  

“But I thought—” she utters out, hesitant to take the flowers she feels unworthy of.   

“That I was mad at you?”   

She nods, looking up at him with guilt swimming in her eyes.  

He lets out a sigh.  

“Listen, I was, uh, maybe a little too harsh on you last night, okay? I know how forgetful you can be. Was just worried when you weren’t home and didn’t answer your phone until hours later. Thought somethin’ happened, you know?” he explains with a calmness that placates her racing mind as she accepts his gift.   

“I know, m’sorry. Won’t happen again, promise. Texted you today the second I was home, right?”   

“You did,” he confirms as he peels off his suit jacket before sniffing the air. “Smells good, what’re you making?”   

“Oh, I made you dinner,” she says bashfully, almost as if waiting for his approval.  

“You did? All by yourself?” his brows climb his forehead in surprise.   

She nods, a soft smile on her lips before he’s ushering her towards the kitchen and plucking a glass vase from the top shelf for her. 

Usually, he’s the one cooking for them since she’s not greatest in the kitchen, always so tired after studying the whole day, she’d probably forget the stove on and cause some sort of a fire due to her absentminded nature. Therefore, he prefers to prepare his girl a nurturing meal whenever he doesn’t have to work late.   

“How was uni today?” he asks as she sets the now flower-filled vase on their dining table.  

“A lot. Was kinda stressed the whole day cause I have so much homework and reading to do, don’t know how I’m supposed to have time for all of it. And then have this group project and the deadline for this essay approaching and…I don’t think my brain works anymore,” she sighs out when she peers down at the steaming bowl of spaghetti Bolognese he places on the counter.   

“Good thing you don’t need to worry that head of yours over anythin’ with me. Let dad do the thinking for you, yeah?” Rafe’s voice is as smooth as honey, causing her to blink up at him— something cottony dusting over her mind in response to his sugary cadence.   

Strong arms lift her up and place her on the marble countertop before he settles right between her thighs, like a puzzle piece she’s been missing the entire day; tall frame hovering over her even as she’s practically perched on a pedestal.   

Then, he’s picking up the plate in the most casual manner and contently shoving a forkful of pasta into his mouth before groaning in satisfaction.   

“Shit, this is amazin’,” he praises around the mouthful.   

She mumbles out a flustered thank you, her thoughts all over the place since she thought he’d still be mad, but then suddenly he’s not. In fact, he’s seemingly in a great mood.   

“Did you eat yet?”  

“No, was, um…waiting for you. Didn’t wanna eat alone,” her volume is nearly inaudible. 

He stops chewing.   

“Waitin’ for me, huh?” he rasps out before he’s lifting the fork closer to her mouth.   

She looks up at him, puzzled.   

“Open,” he orders and she has no choice but to obey— let him feed her because truthfully, whenever she’s around him she gets a little dumb; can’t really focus on anything except his low drawl and gemstone eyes.   

“Good, right?”  

She hums her agreement around the bite, barely registering that some of the tomato sauce stains her chin in the process.   

“Always so messy, huh?” he tuts disapprovingly, even if he’s the one holding the fork.   

However, before her mushy brain has the time to even comprehend what he’s doing, he’s laving the flat of his tongue under her mouth; cleaning it up for her.   

“There we go,” he murmurs as he rubs a thumb over the spot for good measure.   

She swallows.   

“Want some water?” he asks and she nods, all of a sudden unable to utter out words.  

Then, he’s tipping a glass of ice-cold water to her lips, carefully watching her gulp down the liquid before he decides she’s had enough— withdrawing the cup in order to drink some of it himself.    

He continues feeding her every other bite and making casual conversation, all the while she feels herself softly slipping into a very specific headspace. And before she realizes, he’s placing the empty dish in the sink with a slight clatter; their bellies full and happy.    

She doesn’t think she wants to eat by herself ever again.  

Then, her foggy mind registers him in front of her again as he pulls her closer— warm palms slipping under her top and his thumbs idly smoothing over her tummy while she quietly stares at him with hearts for eyes.  

“You put this tiny thing on just for me, hm?” he questions as his eyes drop down to her cleavage; the pale pink lace doing a very poor job of concealing what’s underneath since she’s forgone a bra (and pants), as she usually does whenever she’s merely loitering around their home.  

“Look so pretty in this,” his dreamy voice rumbles as he swipes a thumb over a covered nipple, causing her to let out a faint gasp at the sudden contact.  

“Ray…” she hums out while he keeps rubbing over the squishy part of her body he knows gets her buzzing.  

“Hm? You feelin’ floaty already?” he asks with a gentle cadence. And she’s not sure how he always seems to know just the right words to say in order to turn her into clay.   

“Yeah, missed you so much,” her hazy eyes flicker over his face while he simply gazes at her, before he’s smearing his mouth on hers.   

There’s something hungry, primal in the way he groans against her lips— causing a whimper to escape her throat in response.  

Then, all of a sudden, he’s lifting her over his shoulder as if she weighs nothing more than a single paperclip; making her squeak out a sound of surprise when he jokingly smacks her ass while walking out of the room before throwing her on the bed.   

“Let daddy say hi to his favorite girl, yeah?” he coaxes her before he’s prying her thighs apart and nuzzling his face into her cunt through the material of her panties; nose bumping against her clit, making her shift closer to him.  

“Missed my pussy so much, you know? Wanted to fuck you nice ’n slow last night but you never came home.”   

“M’sorry, daddy,” she can’t help but whimper out when his warm tongue licks over the already dampening fabric of her underwear.   

“Yeah? You gon’ make it up to me? Let me eat you ’till I forgive you?”  

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you want,�� she blabbers, a whine leaving her vocal cords when he plucks the soaked through material to the side and blowson her sensitive cunt.   

“Shit, you’re so wet already,” he says in awe, letting spit drip down his tongue and onto her folds anyway. Then, he’s wrapping his lips around her clit, making her cry out because she can already feel her orgasm lingering underneath the surface.  

“Need to come, can I? Please m’gonna— ” she says, almost in a trance; already so wound up. And the way he’s practically torturing her achy button with his mouth isn’t really helping.  

After he’s hummed his agreement, she’s not able to hold it in any longer— his tongue poking at her opening when the knot in her belly unfolds. She’s shaking, thighs yearning to close, if not for his strong arms holding them open as he groans around her, seemingly lost in a daze with her taste and smell practically suffocating him.  

Since he knows how insatiable she tends to be, he refuses to pull away from between her thighs. And two more orgasms later, she’s a whimpering muddle; desperately trying to drag her hips away from his unrelenting hold. However, he’s entirely too strong and she doesn’t stand a chance. 

“Ray, s’too much, need a break—” she complains, eyes beginning to turn watery in response to the overwhelming pressure.  

However, despite her protests, he doesn’t stop. Instead, he begins to mess with her entirely too sensitive clit with his fingers now— pressing and pulling and making her whine as tears trickle down her cheeks and she tries to fruitlessly wiggle away from him once more.    

“Nah, you’re good, dad wants you to give him a few more, think you can do that?” he mumbles against her sticky folds, stuffing the tip of his tongue into her weepy hole as an effort to persuade her.  

“I don’t know if I can—”  

“Shh, jus’ wanna make you feel nice, you don’t want me to?” he feigns hurt when he lifts up his head, beginning to mouth over the soft skin of her inner thighs to pacify her; his slight stubble tickling her in the process and making her twitch.  

“No, I do, I do…”   

“Then quit whinin’ and let me take care of you, hm? Show you how much I love you,” he coaxes her to give in. And when he puts it like that, she thinks it does sound rather romantic. 

[factorypomelo]

went to the thrift to look for a cheap carry on bag n ended up finding a djungelskog. this is how he was checked out

[dollyfiles]

how do you think rafe would react if reader got a little self conscious or shy after sex, and tried to kinda hide from him?

cw: fluffy, shy!reader, soft!rafe, post sex, teasing, comfort

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

your breath was still shaky, lips parted, chest rising and falling in soft little waves beneath rafe as the room settled into a quiet hum. his fingers were still splayed against your waist, and he hadn’t quite moved yet. his forehead was resting gently against yours, hair falling into his eyes as he tried to catch his breath.

you blinked up at him, eyes wide, cheeks flushing into a soft pink shade. and then, without a word, you turned your head to the side, your hand flying up to cover half your face. “hey,” rafe said, still breathless, his voice low and warm. “what’s this about?”

“n-nothing,” you mumbled, trying but failing to wiggle out from beneath him. “just… stop looking at me like that.” you whined. “like what?” he asked, a smile already tugging at his lips. he leaned in closer, purposely making it worse, brushing his nose along your cheek. “like i’m obsessed with you?”

“ugh,” you groaned, burying your face into the pillow. “rafe!” he chuckled, slow and amused. “what? is it illegal to admire my insanely gorgeous girlfriend after i fucked the shit out of her?”

“stop talking,” you whined again, voice muffled by the pillow. your ears were pink now too. he rolled to the side finally, just enough to give you space, but his arm never left your waist. “you’re cute when you get all shy. i didn’t expect that.”

you peeked at him through your lashes, still red-faced. “can’t handle this. too much.” he smiled then, fingers grazing your sides. to which you gave a little squeak and buried yourself deeper under the covers.

“too much?” he teased, dragging you closer, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “poor thing. should i tone it down? want me to pretend i’m not completely ruined for anyone else now?” you swatted at him weakly from under the blanket, voice high and embarrassed. “you’re ridiculous.”

“you’re beautiful,” he shot back, not missing a beat. “and you make this little face right after cuming all over my dick that’s gonna be stuck in my head for the rest of my life.” your hand flew out from the covers to smack him again, but he caught it easily, intertwining your fingers. but his grip was gentle.

“seriously though,” rafe said after a moment, voice softer now, “you don’t have to hide. not from me. not ever.” you didn’t say anything for a second, just laid there with your heart pounding too loud in your chest. then, slowly, you peeked out again, hair a mess, cheeks still warm.

“you mean it?” you asked quietly. “yeah,” he said, brushing his thumb along the back of your hand. “i mean everything. the way i look at you? the things i say? you’re… everything to me, y/n.”

you blinked a few times, trying not burst out into the biggest cry, and then rolled toward him with a sigh, your arms sneaking around his waist as you buried your face in his warm chest.

“you ruin me when you say stuff like that, ray” you mumbled against him. he grinned, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. “good. now you know how i feel every time you smile at me.”

the two of you lay like that for a while, no pressure, no expectations. just quiet breathing, warm skin, and fingers tangled together. you still felt a little shy, but under your boyfriend’s steady hold, it didn’t feel so scary anymore.

finally, you looked up at him again, “don’t ever stop looking at me like that.” you whispered. “never could,” he said, with a wink. “trust me, you’re the only thing i want to look at for the rest of my life.”

tags: @inbred-eater @dearapril @littlelamy @bradshawed @raahosh @cherrygirlfriend @inspiredangel @bluemerakis @nemesyaaa @rafekisser @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @lacyydollette @et6rnalsun

[robinsgrl]

rafe and his weird girl texts cause weird girl is obviously chronically online but that’s for the twitter post i have planned 😝😝😝

weird girl masterlist

main masterlist

[tojisun]

still thinking about john/simon/reader where both you and simon have daddy issues, and found them soothed within john.

the push and pull between the two of you, competing so desperately for your captain’s attention when he freely gives it out, anyway. the way he brushes his shoulder to yours, or the way he knocks his knuckles on the dip of simon’s spine.

john is a vast pool of affection, but you and simon come snapping your maws, tugging at each other’s tails like john doesn’t croon and coo and welcome your messes into his den. like he doesn’t cup your jaw and tell you how proud he is of you, or that he doesn’t clamp a heavy hand on simon’s thigh and sit with him while simon’s forcing his haunting back within the labyrinths of his mind.

so when john asked, all crinkled eyes and coaxing smile, if you and simon can be kind to each other, well, what else is there to do if not just that?

(there are nights, now, when you wake up and it is simon who’s curled up close to you. not close enough to touch, but close enough that you feel the mattress dip more than usual—a reminder that you are not alone, anymore. that you can sleep good, now. that you no longer need to be on alert even through your exhaustion because no one will come after you, anymore. john’s made sure of that.

now simon’s here too.

you sniff, and tuck him underneath the sheets properly.)

(“you tamed ‘em so easily,” kate says, chuckling, her voice a faint crackle on the other line.

john huffs a laugh. “yes, well. they’re good kids, those two.”

she hums, accusing, and john knows. she doesn’t have to prod any more than this because john knows. he knows that he’s cheated—selfishly using your and simon’s needs to fill in that empty chasm that’s haunted him as the years crawled by, but who can blame him?

it is love, in spite of the means.)

[littlelamy]

“rafe don’t, judge me.” your voice was so soft, almost nervous, while your fingers curled into the hem of your little pink cami, the really pretty yet basic one that barely covered anything. you were sitting on your knees at the foot of the bed, legs tucked underneath you, chewing your lip.

rafe blinked from where he sat against the headboard, with his shirt off. “baby,” he said, brows raised. “i’ve had my tongue in your ass. there’s nothing left to judge.”

you gasped, “rafe!”

he grinned showing his pearly whites, “just sayin’. if this is about the blowjob thing, you can relax.”

you crossed your arms under your chest, making your boobs push up even more. “it’s just—i want to. you do so much for me, and i keep thinking about it but i don’t wanna do it wrong.”

“there’s no wrong,” he said. “unless you bite me.”

you made a face, flinching at the idea, “obviously i’m not gonna bite.”

“some girls do,” he said, shifting his hips under the blanket, his cock already hardening at the just idea of you even talking about this. “you’re better than that. you’ve got good instincts.”

you narrowed your eyes, “how do you know what kind of instincts i have?”

“you’ve got natural mouth talent,” he said, smug. “i’ve seen the way you suck on your straws.”

you groaned, hiding your face in your hands, “God, this is so embarrassing.”

“it’s hot,” he said. “you on your knees, looking up at me like that, telling me you wanna suck my cock for the first time? baby, i’m gonna die.” you peeked up at him through your lashes, “okay, so…teach me?”

he moved the blanket back, revealing his cock—already thick, even before a touch. flushed dark at the tip, the long shaft curved slightly as it lay against his lower stomach, and his veins decorated the sides of it. when he shifted his hips just slightly, it slapped wetly against his abs—audible thwaap—leaving a smear behind.

your eyes widened, “it looks bigger like this.”

“that’s ‘cause you’re finally planning to be a good girl and put it in your mouth,” he said.

you rolled your eyes but heat reached your cheeks, crawling forward until you were between his legs. you reached out with one hand, fingers wrapping around the base, and he let out a low groan. “good grip,” he said. “now kiss it.”

you looked up, “just a kiss?”

“kiss the tip..get acquainted with him.”

you leaned in and pressed a soft, glossy kiss to the head. he twitched in your hand. “shit,” he breathed. “again.”

you kissed him again, slower this time, with a little more pressure. he tasted so clean, warm, and a little salty already. your heart pounded, but you weren’t scared. it was rafe. you wanted to do this.

“okay,” you whispered. “i think i’m ready.”

“open your mouth,” he said, lifting his head up gently manuvering his cock over your lips. “uh huh, tongue out, ah slowly. now lick the head.”

you dragged your tongue over the tip and he cursed, hips jerking up just slightly. “oh—oh okay good girl,” he muttered. “now use your hand and stroke while you suck.”

you started moving your hand, while wrapping your lips around the tip, letting it rest on your tongue before sliding a little further in. “hollow your cheeks,” he said. “not too much. yeah, just like that. fuck, fuck. chi, you’re natural.”

you blinked up at him, mouth full of cock, and he groaned again. “don’t look at me like that. you’ll make me cum.” you giggled, the sound vibrating around him, and he hissed through his teeth.

“Jesus, baby.” you pulled off, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “was that okay?”

he looked attractive already with one hand in your hair. “it was perfect, but you gotta take more, baby.”

you swallowed, nodding, “okay, i’ll try.” you went back down, slower this time, easing more of him into your mouth, tongue flat while your cheeks sucked in just enough. your hand worked what you couldn’t fit, and soon you were bobbing your head, building a rhythm, spit slicking your lips, his cock shiny and wet from your effort.

“you’re so pretty like this,” he whispered. “my sweet baby, so eager to please. look at you sucking on my fat cock. fuck, sexy..” you moaned around him again, taking him deeper. your eyes watered, but you didn’t stop. you liked how he sounded. “slow,” he said, whimpering, “i’m gonna—fuck, i’m gonna cum—”

you pulled back with a wet pop, breathing hard. “i want you to.” his eyes darkened. “you sure?”

you nodded. “yeah, i wanna make you feel real good. i love when you make me feel good. i wanna return the favor, regularly speaking..”

he grabbed your chin, kissed you hard. “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

you went back down, hand pumping, tongue swirling under the head while you moaned just loud enough for him to hear. it didn’t take long for his 2nd climax. his hips jerked and he groaned your name, thick ropes of cum hitting your tongue, your lips, and your fingers.

you swallowed what you could, giggling as you wiped the rest from your mouth. “how’d i do?”

he stared at you, panting. “baby..you ruined me.” you crawled into his lap, straddling him with a smirk. “that’s what you get for loving a beginner.”

❤︎‬ tags below

taglist𑄽𑄺: @rafesbabygirlx @namelesslosers @drewsephrry @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafedaddy01 @rafesangelita @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @@ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @lil-sparklqueen @rafessweetgirl @esquivelbianca @p45510n4f4shi0n @palomavz @cokewithcameron @donaldsonsgirl @yncoded @lilbunnysfics @solaceluna @icaqttt @alphabetically-deranged @wintercrows @st8rkey @nemesyaaa @sturns-mermaid @drewswife

[consciouscarrot]

day 31 - foursome [r.lupin, s.black, j.potter]

poly!marauders x fem!reader

content warnings; fucking filth, barty slander (sorry), bit cringe on the werewolf mentions (sorry again), very unrealistic smut, public vaginal fingering (r receiving), male oral (remus and sirius receiving), bondage with a belt (r receiving), female oral (r receiving), p in v sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, squirting, anal fingering (sirius receiving), lots of pet names (as usual), implied subspace, one mention of drool/dribble, a bit of sirius x remus focused :))

notes; last fic for my first (and hopefully not last) kinktober. only remus for a while, then the boys join later- not much james in this one i’m afraid. longest fic to date by a landslide eek MDNI

kinktober/flufftober masterlist

—————

professor binns was rabbiting on about something you really didn’t care to listen to, more than happy to just copy remus’ notes later on.

you were sat together at the back of the classroom, trying not to doze off at the monotone voice echoing throughout the room. remus’ hand sat steady on your thigh, where it had been practically glued for the past couple days, the full moon rapidly approaching.

he was always more possessive around this time, wanting no one but the boys to as much as look at you, and even then they were on thin ice. it almost always ended up with you spread eagle beneath him, his thick cock pounding into you, impossibly high stamina causing you to be practically immobile by the time he’s satiated.

clenching your thighs together, you snapped out of your lustful daydreams, looking around to make sure no one noticed, when you spotted barty crouch jr staring at you, insufferable smirk on his face as he looked you up and down, eyes very obviously lingering on your tits.

you shifted, trying to turn away from barty’s leering when you felt remus’ scarred hand slide further up your thigh, edging awfully close to the hem of your skirt, his fingers tightening against your flesh in a near bruising grip.

looking at up at him, you saw his gaze locked on barty, eyes narrowed and barely containing the possessive growl you knew his wolf wanted to let out.

“remmy?” you inhaled sharply when his fingers slipped underneath your skirt, teasing along the gusset of your cotton underwear in slow, barely there touches, just enough to get slick to pool out of your cunt, desire creeping up your spine, leaving you near breathless with want, despite the perverted audience.

you bit your lip, trying to keep your expression neutral as you whimpered his name again quietly, looking over to find barty still staring, though his jaw had dropped slightly, focus much lower than it had been before.

“can you keep quiet for me, angel? need to teach junior a lesson,” he said, not bothering to spare you a glance as he pulled your now damp underwear to the side, smirking at the little gasp you let out when the cold air hit your bare cunt.

“mine,” he growled quietly, only loud enough for you to hear, never taking his eyes off barty for a second. you were grateful that remus’ hand covered you, not that he would ever let anyone but the boys see your body.

his fingers slid along your slit, collecting the slippery slick as he pulled your leg atop of his. his digits finally entered your heat, and you grasped desperately at his wrist with both hands, simultaneously wanting him to stop and keep going as he pumped in and out of you, tendons flexing beneath your fingertips.

struggling to maintain your composure, you buried your face into remus’ arm, praying that he’d be merciful and cast a silencing spell. blood pooled into your mouth as your teeth broke through your lip, thin skin splitting painfully as your hips bucked into his touch, high building quicker than usual.

“i want you to look at junior when you cum, if you look away even for a moment, i won’t let you cum. do you understand?” he was finally looking at you when you peeled your face from his arm, all teary eyes and flushed as you nodded, mumbling a quiet ‘i understand’ when he gave you a look.

you met barty’s wide eyes, not failing to notice how the front of his trousers has tented up, body tense as he watched your face crumple as you came, head tipping forward slightly at the sporadic pulsing of your cunt.

you collapsed back into remus’ side as you calmed down, eyes fluttering shut so you were unable to see how after remus pulled his cum coated fingers out of your underwear, he licked them clean, skin glistening with slick and saliva.

you nearly jumped when everyone stood up, panicking that they’d all caught on to the depraved act you’d just committed, only relaxing when remus rubbed your arm, telling you that class was over.

quickly fixing your underwear, he helped you up, your legs trembling from the effort so soon after cumming. you could only stand there helplessly as he packed away your stuff, throwing both your bags over his shoulder as you watched him in a daze.

you could barely think as remus half held you up as you started the walk back to the boy’s dorm, you clinging to his shirt as you tried your best to hurry after him.

you squealed when he shoved the two of you into an alcove, casting a wandless silencing spell before pressing you against the cold, brick wall and kissing you. you moaned into it, his saliva soothing your bloodied lip as he devoured you, tongue sliding against yours.

already feeling needy again, you wiggled against him, willing him to understand what you wanted, melting as his lips trailed over your neck, sucking plum bruises into the flesh, his sharp teeth nipping at the tender skin.

“oh- remmy, please,”

“shh, i know,” he said as he pulled away, undoing his belt, “need to feel your mouth on me, baby.”

you nodded mindlessly, his fingers pressing down on your shoulders until you dropped to your knees, placing your hands on your thighs obediently as you waited for his further instruction, watching with eager eyes as he pulled out his throbbing cock, tip red with arousal, a small glob of pre dribbling down his slit.

he fisted at your hair, clasping it into a makeshift ponytail before using it to guide you closer, hips jumping in suspense. leaning forward, your tongue swirled around his tip, the salty taste of his pre exploding on your tongue, making you whimper. he groaned low at the vibrations, muttering sweet yet filthy praises as his head tilted back against the stone.

dark eyes bored into yours as you took him down your throat, never looking away from eachother, even as you choked around him and tears ran down your face, cooling your heated cheeks.

“oh fuck- gonna come in that pretty mouth of yours- so close- so- oh,” his hips stilled, cum spilling onto your tongue with a drawn out moan, fingers digging into your scalp.

he nearly came again when he opened his eyes, the sight of you sat so prettily before him, tongue sticking out to show him the way his pearly cum coated the pink muscle, smiling softly with dilated pupils and oh so eager to please him.

“shit- good girl, you can swallow now,”

you nearly beamed at that, swallowing happily as he pulled you up into his arms, pressed your bodies together to kiss you again, the taste of himself on your tongue making his dick twitch as he put it away.

~

you barely made it back to the dorm, having to stop every so often to exchange sloppy kisses and dry hump eachother, just to ease the tension until the need to feel each other’s bodies was satiated for a moment.

he opened the door for you, finding the room empty, and you realised that james and sirius were most likely going to be late back as they’d be coming from quidditch practice.

you turned to remus, finding him watching you, back leant against the door.

“strip and get on the bed,” he said, leaving you no room for arguments as he rolled up his shirt sleeves.

you walked over to his bed, ripping off items of clothing as you move, before crawling up to kneel again, waiting patiently for him.

he spent a few minutes just watching you, observing your every tic, the way you breathed heavily, mouth slightly parted and cheeks rosy, the way your breath hitched when he began to walk over to you, loosening his tie and undoing his belt again, wrapping it around his rough palm.

his free hand cupped your face, thumb gliding over your glossy lips as he smiled at you, pressing the digit into your mouth, humming at the way you suckled at it, lids fluttering in pure bliss.

"what's your safe word, sweetheart?" he pulled his thumb out with a wet pop, smearing your spit back over your lips as you mumbled against him.

"yellow for slow, red for stop,"

"good girl, now lie back for me,"

once you were flat against the bed, he flipped you over, pulling your hands behind your back to tie your wrists together with his belt, tight enough to make it hurt just enough for your mind to go fully spacey.

satisfied with the bonds, he gripped your hips, tugging them up so that you were on display for him, cunt exposed and face pressed into the sheets, facing the closed door.

slick had poured down your thighs, smearing across your skin from all the dry humping and walking. he kneeled down on the bed before gently blowing air onto your puffy cunt, chuckling when you pushed back on the feeling, desperate for any kind of stimulation.

giving you no warning, he shoved his face into the mess between your thighs, eating you out from behind. you cried out, unable but needing to grip at his hair and pull him into you. he lapped at your arousal before drawing your clit into his mouth, sucking harshly at the sensitive nub, holding you down as you writhed and kneading at whatever skin he could reach.

you were a mess of constant whimpers, your high building up quicker than you could cope with. but, just as you were about to fall apart, he pulled away, your orgasm falling just right outside your reach.

“no, no please-, i was good! no-,”

remus watching your cunt clench around nothing, even more slick dribbling out, although now it had turned thicker and opaque, just how he liked it.

“you’re creaming f’me already, baby? i don’t even have to try and your cunts all messy,”

tears streamed down your face and you begged him to make you cum, begged him to make you feel good, making desperate promises to do anything he wanted, anything at all.

“shh, it’s okay, need to feel you cumming round my cock, ‘kay?”

you nodded, just happy that you were getting what you wanted.

he pulled his cock out again, still damp with your saliva as he rubbed his tip against your puffy cunt before pushing in. you always took him so well, tight walls hugging him like a glove, pulsing to accommodate his length, cunt almost as eager to please as you were.

you mewled as he started fucking you, one of his feet up by your head for leverage, pounding into your sloppy hole. you were so close already, only needing a few thrusts to tip over the edge, your thighs trembling and fingers trying to grasp at anything behind you.

you screamed when he didn’t stop, gushing around his cock as you’re immediately sent into another orgasm, his fingers swirling on your oversensitive pearl. you tried to squirm away, mouth open in a silent scream as you panicked at the overstimulation.

he hushed you, groaning at the way you clenched down on him before he pressed his weight onto you, cementing you to the mattress and biting into your shoulder to keep you grounded.

you were both getting close again, eyes rolling back, his fingers slid up your back to the base of your scalp, gripping at your hair, pain and pleasure swirling together as you came again, squirting so forcefully that his cock was forced out of you.

“this pretty cunt is mine,” he growled, pushing back in just in time to coat your walls in his cum, walls fluttering around him at the noises that came from remus’ mouth.

you sighed, beginning to relax now that you thought you were getting a break, thinking he was going to stop and pull out any second.

you started sobbing when reality hit you, his hips never slowing. you were so overwhelmed and feeling almost too good, his tip hitting your g spot perfectly on every thrust, clouding your head in a fog so thick that you wouldn’t be able to get out of it on your own, completely gone under his touch.

“i know, i know, bunny. doing so well, that’s it, sweet thing,”

you’re a complete mess beneath him, shaking violently as you babbled, unable to form proper words or sentences, nipples brushing harshly against the sheets.

you barely noticed the door opening, both james and sirius entering wide eyed to the display of you being pounded into the mattress, looking at them all glassy-eyed with an empty head.

“are you two just going to stand there like muppets or are you going to join us?” remus quipped, moaning loudly when you squirted again.

snapping out their daze, sirius quickly locked the door behind him before they scrambled over, cocks already chubbing up.

james went over to remus, rubbing at your back as he intently watched the strings of slick joining your skin as the latter thrust his hips into you, the sounds of skin slapping and lewd, wet squelches filling the room.

sirius however, went straight over to your head, kneeling down next to you with concern wrenching his features, carbon black eyes piercing into your teary ones.

“you okay, lovebug? doing so good for rem,” he said quietly, more than well aware of how remus could get at this time. he stroked your sweat-damp hair out of your flushed face, ignoring the way his cock was throbbing in his trousers at your uncontrolled noises, completely pliant and docile.

unable to speak, remus luckily took mercy and answered for you, “she’s juusst fine, aren’t ya, sweet thing?”

you nodded into the sheets, james testing the waters a he ran his hands strayed from your back, squeezing at whatever flesh remus allowed him to.

sirius planted kisses over your face, murmuring praises to you sweetly. he loved these moments with you, getting to be the one to comfort you whilst you were flying high on pleasure. he kept talking you through it as remus came again, soothing you when you whimpered at remus pulling out to let james have a go, leaving nothing to stop the mixture of his and your cum to dribble out of you, trickling down your sore thighs.

remus undid his belt from around your wrists, rubbing at the reddened skin as he encourage james to take his place, watching as the latter pushed into your heat, whining at the warmth of you.

“easy now, she’s tired,”

“she feels so good,” james grabbed your ass, fingertips digging into the soft skin as he started thrusting into you, starting out slow and controlled before he gave up trying to hold back, fucking you so hard you could barely breathe.

you just about managed to bring your aching arms up, reaching for sirius, he brought his hands to meet yours, thinking that’s what you wanted, only to lurch over at the way you palmed over his trousers, fingers fiddling with his zip.

“please?” you whimpered, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“okay, okay fuck- think you can take me in your mouth, darling? yeah? okay,”

sirius bit back a groan at the way you were already salivating at the sight of his cock, drool slipping out the corners of your mouth as your tongue lulled out, looking up at him as you waited for him.

you let out the prettiest little noises around his cock, sending vibrations through him making him shudder as remus came up behind him, guiding him to lean back and let him undress him.

you hummed in satisfaction, watching remus tease at sirius’ nipples and suck at his neck whilst both their eyes were on you, muttering filthy things as james continued to fuck you, all desperate thrusts of hips and sweet moans.

“good girl, taking siri so well,”

“yeah, she’s so good- more please- oh,”

sirius’ balls slapped against your wet chin, his hips bucking into your mouth when you increased the suction, tongue swirling at the underside of his cock, gagging slightly at the intrusion.

james pulled your torso up a little, tugging you up so that sirius could fuck your mouth easier, strong arms working to hold you up, “there you go, feeling good, baby?”

you nodded the best you could with a cock between your lips, eyes rolling to the back of your head with the noises that echoed around the room.

sirius’ cock twitched in your mouth when remus’ hands started wandering, watching the way he cleaned up you spit coated chin with his fingers, before sliding his hand down to sirius’ ass, gently stroking over his rim, causing him to buck into your mouth harshly.

“fuck- rem i can’t- cant take both,”

“yes, you can pads, let us make you feel good, hm?”

sirius had no chance to object before remus was pushing a finger inside, prying open his tight hole and pressing against his sweet spot, making sirius toss his head back against remus’ shoulder.

sirius’ hips bucked wildly into you, moaning at the way you spluttered around him, spit drooling onto his hard cock. he didn’t last long before cumming straight down your throat, the dual sensations of your mouth on him and remus’ fingers inside too much at once.

whimpering as you continued to suckle on his sensitive head, his legs gave out, the only thing holding him up being remus’ free arm wrapped around his waist. the lycanthrope’s fingers slowed to a stop as he gently pulled the boy’s cock out of your mouth, before guiding him to lay down next to you.

you brought a shaky hand up to sirius’ beside you, clutching at him for dear life as james pushed you head back into the linen sheets, hips speeding up more than you thought possible.

the warmth deep inside your belly was spreading, making your toes curl, unable to do anything but cry and take it, screaming in pleasure.

your thighs were burning from exertion, jaw aching and cunt oversensitive, but you didn’t care, you weren’t even capable of caring about anything other than cumming at that moment, the feel of james’ tip hitting your g-spot rendering you cock drunk.

“you’re so tight, lovie. need to feel you cum, m’so close- oh,”

remus knelt down beside you, taking sirius’ place as he murmured to you, “being so good f’me, darling. just one more and you’re mine again. cum on jamie’s cock for me and i’ll spend the next 24 hours worshipping your body.”

you instantly fell apart, nails digging into sirius’ skin as your eyes rolled back, body shaking so hard that james was half worried he’d broken you, before he too came, flooding your insides with his seed, your pulsing cunt milking him for all that he’s worth.

you both collapsed, lying in a pool of your own bodily fluids, a mixture of everyone’s cum and sweat, spit and tears. you couldn’t find it within yourself to care, still mewling even though no one was touching you anymore, aftershocks nearly enough to make you cum again.

using what little strength you had left, you managed to peel open your eyes, finding remus’ gaze still locked on you, lips pulled into a smug smirk as he mouthed to you, “mine.”

he planted a long kiss to your sweaty forehead, before he allowed sirius to pull you into him, your tits pressed against his chest as you buried your face into his neck, dark curls tickling your nose, his arms enveloping you.

you felt remus stroke at your hair, still knelt on the floor, as james joined the cuddle, curling up behind you with a worn out sigh, “what triggered that then?”

you whined into sirius at the question, worrying that it would set remus off again, the former’s large hands rubbing soothingly at your back.

“junior was leering at her,” he growled, tension filling the air as his fist subconsciously gripped at your hair, making you go rigid, “he wanted to touch her.”

“we can deal with it tomorrow,”

“yeah moony, let’s just look after our girl for now,”

remus hummed, seemingly content with that, fist relaxing as he pressed a few apologetic kisses over your head, waiting until you hummed in acknowledgment to speak, voice low with thick desire.

“it’s my turn again, sweet girl,”

despite being so worn out, you couldn’t help the way your cunt clenched at that, warm cum oozing out with a sleepy moan.

you were the lamb to his wolf, helpless prey only there to entertain him, to please him; and he would never let you go.

[heavenbarnes]

I used to date an older guy (like mid 40s) a few years back and I always got stupidly turned on when he fixed stuff around his house?? Like, he just knew hot to do it and did it. No googling, just him and his tools. Feel like it would fit somewhere in your older bf Simon stuff.

god love a fully capable “fuck it i’ll do it” type of man 🫶🏼

you know that your older bf!simon doesn’t believe in hiring tradespeople for a service.

“why would i pay someone to fuck about in my home?”

“they’re not fucking about, si! they’d be fixing the sink”

“i’ll do it”

you have no doubt that simon was more than capable of fixing things around the house but you also wanted him relaxing when he was home.

turns out he couldn’t relax at the thought of another man doing something for you.

so you let him do it, you threw your hands up and waved your white tea towel in defeat as you heard him banging around in the garage for tools.

hearing the faint sounds of grunting and the occasional swear word coming from the bathroom, you thought it might pay to go and see how he was getting on.

fucking hell.

simon was on his back, arms stretched up above him as his hands dwarfed the pipe they were wrapped around. t-shirt riding up, lines of his stomach leading right to his belt, knees bent and boots firmly planted on the floor, you could honestly just-

“oi, you gonna’ stare or help me?”

now how the fuck?

“your heads in the cupboard, how did you know-“

“i always know where you are, pass me the wrench”

crouching down beside him, you handed it over and stayed down there to watch him work. scarred knuckles wrapped around the handle of the tool, other palm flat against the base of the sink so you could see the veins.

he was something else entirely.

“how d’you know how to do all this?”

“taught m’self, come hold this”

you reached over to replace where his palm was so he could have both hands back. “but why? surely other people don’t learn all this?”

“other people don’t care about their sweet’art not having to lift a finger- move your finger for me”

the more you stretched to hold the sink, the more you felt yourself losing traction with it. naturally, simon noticed before you did.

“y’need to get closer, cm’ere”

tools landing to the side of him, two large hands plucked you up till you were dropped in his lap. precarious situation but you couldn’t deny the sink was a lot easier to reach.

you stayed like that, letting simon work in peace as you enjoyed your view. honestly, he could invite you to the end of the world and you’d just be happy to hold his hand.

one hand splayed out on his chest, the other holding the sink, you suddenly felt a tickle forming at the end of your nose. before you knew it, you were pulling your hand back to scratch it- the one holding the sink.

you panicked, realising it could very well land on simon’s head. but it didn’t, it stayed completely still. face screwing up, you leant in again to give the sink a nudge only to find out it was totally fixed.

“what the hell, si? why’d you have me doing all that?”

you saw the smirk on his face as he flashed a look over at you. suddenly, you realised you weren’t the only one enjoying the view.

the hand that didn’t have the wrench came out to give you a pat on the side of your hip.

“c’mon sweet’art, i can’t get anything outta’ this?”

[em1i2a3]

Stop The World Cause I Wanna Get Off With You

Pairing: The Sentry/Bob/Robert Reynolds/The Void x Thunderbolts!Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Bob hook up from time to time, tonight wasn’t supposed to be one of those nights, until you run into Sentry in the kitchen.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI! Smut, Fluff, Reader has never encountered Sentry before (they’ve seen him in action during missions but they’ve never had a one on one), Bob is able to kind of suppress him (lets him out at times where he thinks nobody else is around…), Reader and Bob have a casual sexual relationship (and a close intimate friendship which comes with the territory)

Smut Warnings: Unprotected P in V Sex (wrap it up everyone, keep safe), Oral Sex (fem! Receiving), Fingering, Overstimulation, Soft Dom Sentry!, Dirty Talk, Teasing, Sentry kind of manhandles the reader a bit, Drool (a bit), Worshipping/Praise Kink, Squirting

Author's Note: Is this purely self-indulgent because I absolutely love writing Sentry and I was in the mood to write for him today. Anyways! I hope y’all enjoy! :))

Word Count: 8,711

You had been seriously considering walking across the hallway to interrupt Bob’s sleep. It would only take one knock, then you would go in, slip under his covers, press your face into the warm crook of his shoulder, and he would make you forget how lonely you had been feeling tonight.

But you didn’t.

Because even as you laid in your cold bed alone, you knew you had to ween yourself off of the comfort sex you were indulging in. It wasn’t like things weren’t good or anything–it was actually too good. Fantastic, even. Falling asleep in his arms with your fingers laced together, quietly talking and muttering sweet nothings to each other had become your second nature with one another, and it was a little too addictive.

Which was exactly the problem.

You and Bob had agreed that things would be casual. Simple. Easy. It wouldn’t be an every-night thing, and it also wouldn’t be something that would turn into habit or expectation. But for the past week it had been…Nonstop. All you had to do was look at him, or make a comment about something that could’ve been taken in a sexual manner, and suddenly you were tugging each other into dark corners or dragging yourselves towards each other's bedrooms.

Tonight though, you had told yourself to take a night off just to reset. To put a little distance back between the both of you. He had understood completely, and mentioned that it was okay to take a breather from one another, and that he too needed to have a bit of a break because things were becoming overwhelming for him–in a good way, he had emphasized.

Now, you found yourself wide awake at two in the morning.

You kept tossing and turning, kicking the blanket off you before pulling it back on. You rolled onto your side, then your back, then your stomach, then your other side again, and nothing had helped. You clung to your pillows, and tried to fold it just right so you could hold onto it like you would hold Bob–with one arm looped around his torso, with your face buried in his chest, and your fingers curling into the soft muscles of his back.

But your pillows couldn’t emulate his smell–that sweet honey and bergamot scent that lived on his skin and buried itself in his hair. Pillows also didn’t shift under your weight or murmur soft things that made your chest feel too full, nor did they kiss the top of your head and ask you if you were okay either.

You let out a frustrated sigh, and rolled onto your back to stare at the ceiling. You decided to give your phone one last try, and opened a playlist of boring videos with slow voices and meaningless facts. You tried one on the patterns of clouds. Another about how jellyfish sleep. Something about farming. Yet somehow you were getting pulled into the interesting facts, so you closed the screen again, and sat up.

You threw the covers off with a sigh and swung your legs over the side of the bed, cold air sweeping over your skin as you slipped off the mattress. The hardwood caused shivers to shoot up your spine as you stood up completely. You grabbed your cotton shorts from the floor and shimmed them up your legs, before throwing the oversized t-shirt you had peeled off earlier in the night, adjusting it slightly before opening up your door and slipping out into the hallway.

Your eyes avoided Bob’s room. Just the shape of it–closed and quiet, with warm light flickering faintly under the seam of the door–would be enough to make your feet falter. If you let yourself even glance over at it, you’d immediately give in. You would start wondering if he was asleep. If he was facing the wall or curled on his side, half-listening for you like he sometimes mentioned he would do. You would start thinking about your simple plan of sneaking in and breaking the rule you had made for yourself that night.

So you kept your eyes forward, and regulated your breathing. You were going to get some water, then you were going to sit on the couch, and watch some television until you passed out. That was the plan, and you were going to stick to it.

You padded quickly down the hallway, letting the compound’s late-night stillness settle over you. Everything slowed down during this time, even the hum every appliance seemed softer, like the building itself was in hibernation mode. As you rounded the corner toward the kitchen, you heard the sink running, and you stilled for a moment.

The gentle rush of water was familiar now–part of the nighttime soundtrack you had grown used to. You assumed, easily, that it was Bucky. Other than you and Bob, he was often up at this hour too, half-dressed, elbows deep in leftovers or cleaning the dishes that he had used for his midnight feast.

That’s how Bucky had found out about your arrangement with Bob actually.

A couple of weeks ago you had slipped into the kitchen just after one in the morning, dressed almost identically to how you were now–shorts, bare legs, no bra, only instead you were wearing one of Bob’s t-shirts which had hung loose off your shoulder. You needed water and out of consideration you grabbed two glasses–one for you and one for the man who was warming your bed.

You assumed the kitchen would be empty, but instead you had walked in half-asleep and stumbled into Bucky, who was spooning peanut butter directly from the jar. The both of you froze instantly midway through your actions.

He looked at you up and down once, not in a creepy way–just observant. That razor-sharp, tactical read that told you he knew exactly what was going on. He didn’t say anything right away, he just leaned against the counter and raised an eyebrow, then after a beat.

“Midnight hydration run?” You had tried to stammer something out about being thirsty and needing extra water because you didn’t want to make two trips, but he just stared at you like he was burning a hole through your body until you sighed and gave in.

”I’m grabbing water for Bob and I…” You mumbled. He didn’t blink, he just dug his spoon back into the peanut butter jar.

”Didn’t think it was Walker, you’d rather be set on fire.” He commented, his voice dry. You rolled your eyes at the comment, “And Alexei could practically be your father…Which only leaves me,” Bucky added with a little smirk, “And I definitely didn’t fuck you…Becuase you probably wouldn’t be walking out here for water.” You choked on the comment.

”Jesus Christ Bucky.” But then he raised his hand.

“I’m just joking…But…I did figure everything out days ago that you and Bob were doing something together, and I knew it definitely wasn’t something PG…So…Just relax. I won’t tell anyone.”

Since then, he hadn’t brought it up once. There was no teasing or side comment. Just a quiet sort of understanding–a look he’d give you when he passed you both in the hallway or saw you trailing into the gym just behind Bob with a just been kissed look plastered on your face.

He got it. He didn’t judge. Which was probably why you weren’t startled when you heard the water running tonight. You figured it was him again, and you would have some friendly company to chat with.

But when you stepped into the kitchen you froze, because it wasn’t Bucky at the sink this time. It was Bob.

The amber kitchen lights casted long, drowsy shadows across the room, golden strips of illumination bending over countertops and reflecting in quiet glints off the faucet which shined on the ceiling. That light fell in delicate waves across the pale skin of his back–so stark against the deep navy of his sweatpants, and the gentle rise and fall of his back that bathed in steam and warmth from the sink. Each shift of his muscles–every slow, rhythmic movement of his shoulders and arms–caught in that glow like some kind of living marble, warm to the touch but sculpted like something divine.

You stood there, motionless for a moment, biting your lip.

The faint squelch of the sponge in his hand mingled with the drip of water from the edge of a rinsed bowl. He hadn’t noticed you yet. Or if he had, he made no sign of it.

You knew this back–had memorized the feel of it beneath your hands, had traced your nails down its planes and kissed along every scar and dip and ripple. You’d pressed your cheek to it when you couldn’t sleep, when the silence felt too heavy to be alone in. And tonight, even with all your good intentions crumbling at your feet, you couldn’t resist the gravitational pull he had on you.

You sighed softly, a smile tugging at your lips.

“And I thought I could stay away for the night,” you murmured, voice low, more to yourself than to him.

You took a few quiet, careful steps forward, until the warmth of him reached you–radiating off his skin, curling into your lungs like smoke. You slid your arms around his waist from behind, gently laying your cheek between his shoulder blades for a breath, before pressing your lips there, giving the sensitive skin there a soft kiss. Then a little playful nibble, just over the muscle that always flexed when he laughed.

But this time, there was none of that. No low chuckle. No amused huff of breath. No warmth curling around your arms as he turned to pull you into his chest.

Instead, you felt him still completely. Tension coiled up in his back–not startled, not annoyed, but something different. He didn’t lean into you. He didn’t relax. He simply stood there, as if waiting for you to realize something.

Your hands splayed out over his stomach, pressing against the ticklish spot on his abdomen, right between the ridges of his abs, knowing that would certainly get a reaction from him, but still you got nothing from him. You frowned in confusion, not understanding what was happening, and what you did that made him go so stoic like this.

“…Bob?” You said aloud, voice filled with uncertainty and worry. There was a beat of silence, and then–

“So this is what you do to him to make him beam all the time?” The voice was deeper. Not in pitch, but in weight. It came from the same body, from the same chest, but it wasn’t Bob speaking. It was richer, smoother, velvet and lightning twisted into something calm and ancient. Your chest tightened.

You knew that voice. You’d heard it before–threaded between bursts of static on the comms, a golden tone like a cathedral bell ringing through fire. It always cut through everything else–gunfire, screaming, the chaos of battle. It was unmistakable. Commanding, absolute, and divine.

It was Sentry. A piece of Bob you rarely interacted with.

He didn’t speak much to you unless he needed to. He’d hover near the edge of the Quinjet, silent, half-glowing with restrained power. Sometimes you’d catch his eyes lingering on you, but he never spoke to you one-on-one. There was always something in the way–like Bob was still awake inside, still drawing him back, like he was scared that if you and the Sun God spoke you’d treat him differently.

But now it seemed like there was nothing between the both of you, he was actually addressing you and talking to you.

“Sentry?” You asked, with the name catching in your throat slightly. Not in fear, but in awe, because genuinely…You were a bit excited. He turned his head just enough for you to see the shimmer in his gaze–not from Bob’s oceanic blue irises, but from his molten gold ones. It was the kind of gaze that felt like it saw everything at once, and yet was focused entirely on you instead.

His shoulders rose and fell in a measured breath, and then, slowly, his hand reached and slid around your wrist. Damp and warm from the sink, his fingers were careful–not rough–but firm enough to still your breath.

“Are you always this soft with him?” The words hit you like a pressure change in the air. Heavy. Intimate. His thumb circled lightly over the delicate skin of your wrist, pressing into your fluttering pulse like he was testing a theory–measuring the tension, the want, the truth beneath your skin. The warm pads of his fingers contrasted sharply with the godlike weight of his presence. Even his touch felt calibrated, impossibly restrained, like he was holding himself back from something far greater, something devastating.

You swallowed hard, the words caught in your throat, then exhaled softly.

“Of course I am,” You replied quietly. “He’s my friend.”

A beat passed, and then Sentry let out a low laugh–not mocking, but deep and knowing, laced with something dangerously close to affection. “And your part-time lover, it seems.” Your bottom lip slipped between your teeth.

The way he said it shouldn’t have made your face flush with heat, but it did. You couldn’t even argue with it. Couldn’t pretend you hadn’t been clinging to Bob’s warmth, to his comfort, to the way he made you feel like you weren’t so alone in this place. Even when it wasn’t sexual, it was intimate. And it always bled into something deeper, whether you wanted it to or not.

Sentry turned to face you more fully now. He looked like Bob–his features carved in the same soft-boned, handsome mold you had memorized by now. But beneath the low kitchen lights, illuminated by that molten glow behind his eyes, it was like staring at the sun without sunglasses. Familiar, yes–but dangerous. Blinding and brilliant. He had the same jaw you liked to kiss down to his throat. The same slope of his nose you’d nuzzle against when the world felt too loud. The same lips you had kissed dozens of times, swollen and open beneath yours. But with Sentry in control, it was like watching those soft places turn incandescent. Magnified. Eternal.

His expression was calm, but not passive–curious, focused, full of care and knowing. Like he could see the story of your entire life, and was taking his time reading through the parts that had his name etched between the lines.

He let go of your wrist, only to raise his hand again–those damp knuckles brushing gently under your chin. The water clung to his skin in droplets that glittered like starlight, and the touch was featherlight, as though your skin were something precious.

“I can hear your thoughts…” He murmured, his voice like candle smoke and sunrise. His thumb nudged your chin upward, holding you in place as your lips parted instinctively. Your body was already betraying you–heart pounding, mouth dry, your breath catching in your throat. Your cheeks heated up under the words, and you looked away, embarrassed, but he followed your gaze like a moon following gravity.

“You’re excited to meet me,��� He continued softly, a slow smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “You’ve been curious for a long time…Wondering what it would be like to talk to me.” You swallowed hard.

“But…” He added, tilting his head slightly. His lashes lowered, and he squinted a bit, like he was scanning something deep within you–like he was rifling through your heartbeat pattern in the moment, “You’re also…Slightly disappointed that Bob isn’t here, because he’s the one who can help you relax,” His gaze narrowed at the words that left his mouth, but it wasn’t like he was bothered by it. There was no jealousy or bitterness, he was just stating the truth, because he expected that answer.

“I wasn’t looking to sleep with him tonight…” You said quietly, almost defensively, though it came out softer than you intended. Sentry tilted his head at that, not skeptical, not cruel–just listening. Watching you carefully, like every word you spoke mattered. His damp knuckles left your chin only to trail higher, curling softly along the edge of your cheek, brushing your hair away from your skin. His touch was featherlight and warm, but beneath it was something steadier. A presence like gravity. An anchor pulling every fluttering thought down where he could read it.

“I know…” He murmured, thumb grazing the apple of your cheek now. He let out a soft breath, which fanned over your face. “But you were aching for him in your room. I could practically feel it from across the hallway.” Your stomach dropped at that. Not in shame, but in exposure. Like something cracked open that you weren’t ready to show yet–but he’d seen anyway.

You tried to avert your gaze, tried to turn your face away, but his hand followed. Gentle. Not forcing–just refusing to let you hide.

“I wasn’t–”

“You were,” He interrupted, and his voice was impossibly soft. Not scolding, not smug. Just…True. “But you chose to ignore it. Which only makes things worse, by the way.” Your lips parted, but nothing came out. There was no point in arguing. Because it wasn’t about being caught–it was about being understood. About how easily he could reach past the things you said and feel what was actually stirring beneath them. His lips curled into the faintest smirk–warm, golden, and just the slightest bit teasing–as his hand swept gently back across your cheek.

“If you’d let me…” He murmured, voice dipping like a secret, “…I can help you.” You tilted your head back slowly, caught between defiance and surrender, your lashes lowering as you looked up at him through the haze of them. Your body swayed closer without realizing it.

“I can take all that ache away very quickly,” He added, just above a whisper.

You sighed, long and unsteady. “Sentry…I don’t know…” His thumb grazed just beneath your eye, a gentle stroke that made your lashes flutter. You weren’t sure if he was trying to wipe something away or if he just needed to touch you again.

“Are you scared,” He asked softly, “That I won’t be as good? That I’ll be a different lover than Bob?” His voice was curious and searching, “What is worrying you?” You exhaled slowly, the air catching in your throat before you could speak.

“Nothing is worrying me” You replied, your voice a little cracked, “I just…I feel like I’ve become reliant on the sex. That’s all.” For a moment, Sentry just stared at you. Then he let out a quiet, amused laugh–warm and grounded, the sound of a sun god tucking laughter behind his teeth.

“Y/N,” He started with a small shake of his head, the roughness of his thumb trailing over your cheek again, “Just because you enjoy having sex with someone doesn’t mean you’re reliant on it.” You blinked at him, caught off guard by the directness in his tone–gentle, but unflinching. “So the both of you have been having sex to relax and sleep…So what? You’re human. He’s human. It brings you peace, doesn’t it?” You nodded a little, biting your lip.

”Yeah…It does…” His hands cradled your face now–thumbs brushing over the high points of your cheeks, anchoring you there, golden eyes drinking you in with something between adoration and hunger. His voice stayed low, like it was meant for this hour and this space and you alone.

“So…Let me do the same,” He murmured.

You stared up at him, breath caught. Your lips parted, the tip of your tongue flicking over them, nervous.

“…Should I know anything before I say yes?” You asked quietly. His brows drew together slightly, head tilting, confusion fluttering across his features for a moment.

“What do you mean?”

You hesitated, but only for a beat. “You’re…Technically a god,” You started, your voice half-playful, half-serious. “So is the sex going to be…Different?” For a second, he just blinked at you. Then, a low, amused laugh rumbled up from his chest. He dipped his head, shaking it slightly, his forehead brushing against yours with affectionate weight.

“I’m definitely more focused on you and your pleasure…” He said with a soft, wicked glint in his golden eyes. “But I don’t think it’ll be catastrophically different or anything.” He smirked lightly, nose brushing yours. “Even if it is…You could just tell me, and I’ll stop.” You nodded slowly, pulse skipping under his thumbs.

“Okay,” You whispered, breath shaky. “Let’s… give it a try.” His eyes scanned your face one last time, and something in them flickered–like a star flaring to life.

“You sure?” He asked.

You swallowed. “Yeah…I’m sure.” His lips found yours before your next breath could settle.

It wasn’t like kissing Bob. There was no hesitation, no slow build or soft slide of mouths testing pressure. This kiss was deeper from the start–anchored in certainty, in the heat of something that had long been simmering just below the surface.

Sentry kissed you like he had been waiting. Like the second you gave permission, his restraint unraveled with reverence instead of urgency. His mouth was warm and searching, coaxing yours open with languid pressure, his tongue brushing over yours in slow, molten strokes that made your knees buckle.

You gasped against him as his hands slid down your sides–firm, guiding, mapping the shape of you with awe. You felt one arm hook beneath your thighs, the other bracing your back. He lifted you like it was nothing. As if gravity didn’t apply to you anymore.

Your arms instinctively wrapped around his shoulders, legs parting to cradle his hips. You clung to him, breath stuttering in his mouth as he walked, slow and deliberate, down the quiet hallway toward his room. The compound was still in that late-night lull, unaware of the way your body was pressed tight to the god carrying you.

His mouth never left yours, even as he moved. Every step he took, every subtle shift of his muscles beneath your hands made it clear–he could do this forever. He could kiss you until the stars collapsed and still not be satisfied.

By the time you reached his door, your lips were swollen, parted, breath shared between you in shallow bursts. He bumped the door open with his foot and stepped inside without breaking stride. The room was dim–lit only by the faint glow leaking in from the hallway and the soft pulse of light emanating from him.

He kissed you again–harder this time–as he stepped forward and tossed you onto the bed with divine ease.

You landed with a gasp, elbows sinking into the plush blankets. The door clicked shut behind him with a finality that sent a pulse of heat through your chest. You were already breathless, already spread across the bed in nothing but your cotton shorts and oversized shirt, heart pounding like a war drum. He stood there for a moment, silhouetted in the golden glow leaking under the door, his bare chest rising and falling with quiet, restrained hunger.

Then he turned to you–slow, deliberate, devastating. And when his eyes met yours again, it was like being pinned beneath sunlight. You felt small under that gaze, but never powerless. No–desired. Desired in a way that felt mythic.

You were already crawling backward toward the pillows, instinct taking over. Every part of you was lit with anticipation. Every breath was shallower than the last. Sentry stalked toward you with that same predatory calm he always carried during missions–only now it was tangled with something softer. Worship. Admiration. A kind of overwhelming reverence that made your whole body ache before he even touched you again.

He climbed onto the bed with a slow, fluid movement, his muscles flexing as the mattress dipped beneath his weight. His smirk was devastating.

“You’re very pretty when you’re nervous,” He murmured, his eyes raking slowly over your body. A little laugh slipped from you–breathless and quiet.

”I’m not that nervous.” His smile deepened, eyes glowing with something both tender and ravenous.

“You are,” He said, dragging his palm slowly up the curve of your bare thigh, fingertips brushing just under the hem of your shirt, “But it’s beautiful. It makes you glow.” You opened your mouth to respond, but your breath caught when his hands slid higher. His palms were broad and warm as they swept up your sides, curling possessively around your waist. The heat of his skin burned through the fabric, and you felt yourself arch instinctively toward his touch, thighs parting ever so slightly.

“God, you’re soft,” He whispered. “You feel like something I shouldn’t be allowed to touch.” His thumbs dragged along your stomach, just beneath the swell of your breasts, grazing the sensitive skin there. You sucked in a sharp breath, your heart pounding under his hands.

“I want to see you,” He said, voice low. “Can I?” You nodded, lips parted, already dizzy from the tension coiling in your core. He eased your shirt up with reverent care, dragging it slowly over your ribs, then your chest. When he realized there was nothing underneath–no barrier between your bare breasts and his hungry gaze–his golden eyes flickered, like a pulse of starlight had jumped behind them.

”Fuck…” He breathed, almost to himself, “They’re beautiful.” You flushed at the compliment, but there was no time to respond–because he was already pulling the rest of the shirt over your head and tossing it aside with a single, fluid motion. The cool air kissed your skin, but the warmth of his stare replaced it instantly, scorching in its intensity.

He settled over you again, bare chest brushing your nipples as he leaned down and captured your mouth with his own. This kiss was deeper, filthier–his tongue sliding between your lips with a slow, deliberate roll. You moaned against him, your hands roaming over his bare back, dragging your nails across the broad expanse of muscle there, and he groaned in response–low and needy. When he pulled back, it was only to kiss along your jawline–open-mouthed, wet, slow. His lips trailed to your throat, his breath hot against your pulse.

“Your skin’s like silk,” He muttered between kisses. “You smell like sleep and heat and need.” He licked a stripe up your neck, then nipped lightly at the space beneath your ear, making you gasp, “Beg for me, Y/N…” His voice was soaked in lust, golden eyes burning as his mouth hovered just above your chest. The command sent a jolt down your spine.

Your breath caught in your throat as he trailed slow, molten kisses across the swell of your breast, his stubble brushing your sensitive skin like a teasing promise. He didn’t touch you fully–just let his lips ghost across your skin, close enough to ignite sparks but never enough to satisfy.

“I want to hear it,” He instructed against your skin, voice low and thick with hunger. “Say you want me.” You whimpered, head tipping back as your thighs instinctively squeezed together. His tongue flicked out to taste the curve of your breast, just shy of your nipple, and you writhed.

“Sentry…Please–” You gasped, voice cracking.

“Mm. Better,” He hummed, dragging his tongue across the other side now, his hands gripping your thighs as he settled between them. “But not quite what I asked for.” His tongue circled the soft underside of your breast, lips wet and slow as he kissed up toward your nipple. He exhaled a hot breath against it, lips brushing but still not giving in.

“You want this mouth on you?” He whispered. “Say it.”

You bit your lip, trembling, barely holding yourself together. “I want your mouth on me. Please. Please, I want it.”

He groaned low–rewarded by your honesty–and finally wrapped his lips around your nipple. The contact was hot and soft and overwhelming–his tongue swirling slowly, then flicking lightly, then dragging in a slow suck that made your whole body jolt. Your back arched off the mattress as his hand came up to cup your other breast, kneading gently while his mouth worshipped you like you were the only thing in existence.

“Your skin tastes so fucking good,” He growled, “Sweet and warm…” You whimpered as he sucked harder, then moved to the other side, lavishing it with the same slow, indulgent care. His fingers pinched your other nipple lightly–just enough to make you gasp–and he growled again as your thighs shifted restlessly against his waist.

“Desperate already?”His lips glistened as he pulled back slightly, breath heavy, eyes molten gold and fixed on your face. A string of saliva still clung to your nipple, slick and obscene, catching the light like honey.

“You haven’t even felt my tongue where you really need it yet…” He murmured, voice drenched in reverence and hunger.

Your body tensed in anticipation, but you managed a breathless smile, your hand sliding through his soft brown hair. “You’ve basically given me a sneak peek,” You whispered, teasing, your voice shaking despite the attempt at confidence. His laugh was low and dangerous, rumbling in his chest like a distant thunderclap.

“Mmm,” He hummed, licking his lips slowly, dragging his tongue over the mess he’d made, like he wanted to savor it. “It’s not the same. I’ll warn you now…” His mouth pressed to your sternum–hot and wet. A trail of drool followed as he began to kiss down your body with maddening slowness. “You’re going to be losing your mind.” You gasped as his mouth moved over your ribs, his lips dragging, open and hungry, down the slope of your stomach. Each kiss was messier than the last–his drool warm and thick, sliding over your skin in a slow trail of devotion. His tongue flicked out, collecting the saliva and smearing it lower, until your abdomen was slick and shining.

“Fuck…Sentry,” You whispered, hips twitching under his mouth. He looked up at you from your stomach, his golden eyes glowing with wicked pleasure, lips soaked with spit.

“You like this?” he murmured, dragging his tongue across your lower belly again. “You like how messy I get for you?” Another hot string of saliva dripped from his mouth onto your navel. His breath fanned out across it before he kissed it slowly, deliberately.

You couldn’t even speak.

His hands slid down, gripping your hips with enough pressure to bruise, anchoring you as his mouth dipped lower, and lower–kissing the waistband of your shorts like it was a holy thing. His hot breath teased over the damp cotton as he hummed softly–half in amusement, half in awe. You shifted under him, hips rolling in a quiet plea, your thighs twitching slightly around his frame as if trying to guide him where you needed him most.

He chuckled against your skin–a low, warm sound that melted right into your belly.

“Mmm,” He purred, brushing his nose against the soft dip of your lower abdomen, just above the fabric, “You’re already so turned on…” His thumbs dragged lightly along your hips, circling where your skin met the edge of your shorts, his golden gaze lifting to meet yours.

“I can feel it,” He murmured, voice dripping like candle wax. “But I need you to be just a little patient.” His tone was indulgent, not scolding–like a god soothing a mortal too desperate for divinity. His nose brushed the soft line of your waistband, and then—without a word–he dipped his head lower and let his lips part. You barely had time to gasp before he opened his mouth and bit down gently on the elastic of your shorts.

The fabric stretched with a soft snap of resistance, catching on your hips as he pulled it back with a slow, teasing growl. His eyes stayed on you the whole time–half-lidded, molten gold, glowing like the promise of something you were never meant to survive. And then, with a deliberate tug of his head, he let the waistband slap gently back against your skin. You gasped and let out a startled little giggle. The smirk that spread across his spit-slick lips was absolutely devastating.

“I like that sound,” He murmured, voice thick with want. “Let’s see if I can get you to make a few more.” And then, without waiting, he dragged his teeth back to the waistband again–this time biting and tugging the shorts down inch by inch, growling low when he revealed the bare, damp heat of your center. He didn’t speak right away.

He just stared.

And you could feel him looking–not just at your body, but at every flicker of your arousal, every tremble of your thighs, every breath that stuttered out of your mouth. His golden eyes were heavy with hunger, reverence, and something worshipful that made you feel dizzy.

“I knew you’d be perfect,” He breathed, hot against your skin. “But fuck…I didn’t know you’d smell so fucking good.” You whined, thighs twitching as he kissed the inside of your leg—just above your knee—then again, higher this time, open-mouthed and wet. He licked, kissed, then bit softly, dragging his teeth just enough to leave a hint of sting before soothing it with his tongue. His grip on your thighs tightened.

“You’re already soaked…” He complimented, voice low and reverent. “You don’t even realize how sweet you smell right now, do you?” His hands slid under your thighs, lifting and adjusting you like you weighed nothing, like he was rearranging something sacred.

He pushed your legs higher with slow, controlled strength–your knees bending as your thighs were opened wider, his hands curling beneath them, forearms caging you in. Your back arched off the bed as your body reacted to the new angle, the cool air grazing your slick folds as you were fully exposed to him now.

“Look at you,” He murmured, his mouth inches from where you needed him most. “So pretty and wet, twitching like this for my mouth.”

Your breath caught, and your fingers curled into the blankets as he dragged his tongue slowly over his bottom lip–deliberate, filthy, hungry.

“Does he get on his knees for you like this?” He asked, kissing the inside of your thigh again. “Does Bob take his time, spread you open, and just…Breathe you in?”

You whimpered.

“Does he taste you until you cry?” Another kiss. Higher. Wetter.

“Sentry–please…”

“Mmm.” He exhaled a hot breath against your slick folds. “That’s better.”

And then his mouth was on you.

No warning. No teasing breath or tentative first lick. He dove in like he was starving–tongue dragging through your folds with a moan that vibrated into you. His hands gripped the underside of your thighs as he lifted your hips, adjusting you again, tilting you just so, and you felt yourself fold into him–held wide open, helpless under the weight of his mouth.

He groaned when he tasted you. The sound was obscene. Worshipful. Like he’d just discovered the meaning of life between your legs.

“Oh my god–” You gasped, one hand flying to his hair, the other clutching the sheets. His tongue licked up again, slow and thick and hot, and then flattened against your clit with reverent pressure. He circled it once. Twice. Then sucked it into his mouth with a messy, hungry groan.

You cried out. There was no point in staying quiet anymore.

His grip on your thighs tightened as he dragged you even closer, burying his face against you like he could crawl inside. His nose bumped your clit as his tongue licked lower again–down to your entrance–and you felt the flat, firm strokes of him fucking you with his tongue now. Hot, wet, unrelenting.

“Fuck–you taste like heaven,” He growled into you, voice thick with arousal. “Can’t believe he gets this all the time…No wonder he’s always thinking about it.” You gasped, bucking your hips, and he chuckled darkly against you before flattening his tongue again, dragging it up in one long, slow stroke that made your entire body convulse.

And then–he added his fingers.

One thick digit slid into you with practiced care, the pad curling upward instantly as his tongue circled your clit again. You moaned, high and broken, and he shushed you gently, pressing his lips against your mound like a kiss.

“There you go, that’s it…” He whispered. “Let me open you up.”

A second finger joined the first–stretching you perfectly, filling you slow and deep as his mouth returned to your clit. He sucked, licked, and moaned into you like you were a divine offering, like he was absolutely wasted on you. His fingers curled with precision, stroking that spot inside you that made your vision white out in flashes. His tongue never let up, flicking fast and relentless now.

Your body twisted against the sheets, your thighs trembling, your voice cracking on every breath as your orgasm started to build–hard and fast and hot.

“Sentry…Fuck, I’m–!”

“Good,” He growled, sucking harder. “Cum on my face Y/N…” You came with a cry that ripped through you–head tipping back, thighs clamping around his head as he groaned into you, licking and fucking you through every wave of it like he was addicted. You felt it gush out of you, dripping down your thighs and his wrists and his chin, and he licked it all up–eager, messy, praising every shudder of your body like it was a gift from above. When the last tremor left you, he pulled back just enough to look up at you–face slick with your release, lips wet, golden eyes glowing like firelight through smoke.

“I told you,” He said softly, with a devastating smile. “You’d lose your mind.” And then he kissed the inside of your thigh again–gentle this time, more satisfied. As if he were thanking you for letting him worship you.

Then he moved–fluid and graceful as molten light, muscles rolling beneath his glowing skin as he crawled back up your body. Every inch of him brushed over you–bare chest gliding along your slick belly, hips grazing yours, arms braced beside your head as his face hovered just above yours. His breath was still hot from the work of his mouth, and his lips–shiny, wet, and flush with your release–ghosted over yours before he kissed you.

It was soft. Barely a touch. Just the press of his mouth to yours like a vow sealed in secret.

Then, a sigh: “I think it’s going to be really hard to get rid of me now that I’ve had a taste…” he murmured, voice rough and low, golden eyes half-lidded as his forehead tipped forward to rest against yours. “You’re absolutely delicious.”

Your breath caught, and a quiet laugh escaped–nervous, a little dazed, but warm. “Then don’t go anywhere,” You whispered, kissing him again, slower this time, as your fingers slid through his hair and down the back of his neck. “Stay. I want you inside me…” That earned you a growl. Low and sinful, a vibration that rumbled in his chest as he kissed you harder–messy, claiming, the kind of kiss that made you forget where the bed ended and he began.

“Fuck,” He breathed into your mouth, hand sliding down your waist to grip your thigh again, his other arm wrapping under your back. “You want me inside you, just like that? Say it again…”

You moaned as he shifted your hips–rolling you with divine ease, one arm lifting your lower back, the other guiding your thighs to open wider. The movement was firm, deliberate, a little rough in the way that made your heart stutter.

“I want you inside me,” You repeated, lips brushing his. “Please, Sentry…”

His golden gaze blazed. He kissed you again–rougher now, a low growl curling from his throat as he pulled back just enough to kneel between your thighs.

One hand slid to the waistband of his sweatpants, and with a swift push, he shoved them down. The fabric caught slightly on his thighs, but he didn’t pause–he just stood briefly, stepping out of both the pants and his boxers in a smooth, practiced motion before kneeling over you once more.

Your eyes dropped automatically.

He was already hard–thick, flushed, curved just slightly toward his stomach, the tip slick with precum.

It was familiar. The curve. The size. The way he twitched just slightly at the attention. But it felt like seeing it for the first time all over again–like every prior memory was just a diluted echo compared to the sight of him now. There was nothing casual or easy about this moment. No after-mission haze or late-night impulse driving it. Just him. Raw and bare and kneeling for you.

He smiled–slow and devastating, like sunrise bleeding over your skin–and his palm smoothed over your thigh before he leaned in, closer, gaze drinking in your expression like it was scripture.

“How do you want me?” He asked, voice thick with promise. His hand slid up, warm and steady, settling over your belly, then cupping your breast like it was the most sacred thing he’d ever touched. “I’ll do anything you ask, Y/N. Just tell me.” Your breath caught. Your skin prickled. You swallowed hard and cupped his face gently, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone, dizzy from how beautiful he looked like this–lit from within, burning just for you.

“Slow,” You whispered. “Close. I want to feel all of you.”

His golden eyes darkened, and he nodded once–like he’d been waiting to be told exactly that.

“You’ll feel every inch of me,” he murmured, dragging his mouth down your neck in a slow, reverent kiss, “and I won’t stop until you’re shaking.”

You whimpered as he guided your thighs wider, hips settling between them with that godlike strength, and then he reached down—gripping himself, pumping once, twice, slow and firm, guiding the thick head of his cock to your entrance. He paused there, rubbing himself through your slick folds, teasing your clit with the swollen tip, watching the way your body arched toward him like a prayer.

“Look at you,” He whispered, voice shaking now with restraint. “So warm… so wet already… you’re going to take me so fucking well, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” You breathed. “Please… I want it.”

His hand came to rest beside your head, and he leaned over you again, kissing your mouth with molten heat as he finally began to press in–slow, slow, achingly slow. The stretch hit you in waves–burning, perfect, overwhelming–and he groaned into your mouth as your heat wrapped around him.

“F-Fuck,” He breathed, his voice fracturing. “You feel like heaven. I’ve never–God, Y/N–” He didn’t finish. Couldn’t.

Because your hands were clawing down his back, and your legs were locking around his waist, and your mouth was parting against his in a gasp that shattered into moans when he bottomed out inside you.

You were full. So full. Stretched to the edge of breaking and held together only by the weight of him, the sound of his breathing, and the reverence in his trembling voice as he buried his face in your neck and whispered:

“You were made for me.”

He just breathed against your neck, chest trembling with restraint, like he couldn’t bear to pull back now that he was inside you. His cock pulsed deep in your heat, stretching you wide, pressed tight to the very core of you. And he stayed there–buried to the hilt, his hands braced beside your head, body vibrating with the weight of it all.

You clung to him, arms around his neck, legs wrapped around his waist. You could feel every inch of him–how hard he was, how thick, how perfectly he filled you. Every twitch of him inside you made your thighs tremble.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” He whispered, voice low and trembling. “Tell me if I need to stop. Tell me, and I will. Right now.”

“You’re not hurting me,” You said back, mouth brushing his temple. “I need you to move. Please.”

He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for centuries.

Then he pulled out just slightly–slow, careful–and eased back in, dragging the thick length of his cock along your walls like he was memorizing the shape of your body from the inside.

“Oh fuck,” You gasped. He began to move–slow, dragging thrusts that pulled him nearly all the way out before he sank back in, groaning each time he filled you again. His hips rolled with divine pressure, not frantic or fast, but heavy and claiming, grinding against your clit with every deep push. The bed rocked gently beneath you.

“You’re squeezing me so tight,” He breathed. “It’s like your body never wants to let go.”

“Maybe I don’t,” You whispered, forehead pressed to his. “Maybe I want you to stay inside me forever.”

His groan turned desperate. His hand slid under your thigh, hooking it higher around his hip, pulling you open for him even more. The change in angle made you cry out as he hit a new spot—deep, hot, overwhelming.

“Fuck,” He growled. “You feel that, sweetheart? That’s your body taking me deeper. So fuckin’ good for me.”

You nodded, voice catching on another moan as your hands gripped his shoulders.

“Look at me,” He said, and when your eyes met his, you nearly gasped. They were glowing–bright, molten, golden with fire. “You’re mine right now. Say it.”

“I’m yours,” You choked out, voice broken and full. He kissed you–hard, open-mouthed, desperate–and began to thrust a little faster now. Still slow, still deep, but harder. More intentional. His hips drove into you with steady rhythm, the drag of his cock inside you friction-hot and all-consuming.

Every inch of him was worship. Every stroke a vow.

You could feel yourself getting close–trembling, twitching around him, thighs clenching. He felt it too.

“That’s it,” He groaned, licking into your mouth. “Cum for me. Cum with me still inside you. Let me feel it.”

His hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, circling it fast and filthy as his cock slammed into you again.

The orgasm ripped through you like sunlight bursting through glass–hot, blinding, your whole body arching into his as your cunt spasmed around him. You sobbed into his shoulder, and he fucked you through it–murmuring praise, filthy and sacred all at once.

“Look how perfect you are,” He breathed. “Cumming all over me…Still taking every inch.”

You were still trembling when you felt him lose control–his rhythm stuttering, his breath catching, hips driving deep one final time as he came inside you with a groan torn from somewhere deep in his chest.

His weight hovered over you, both of you breathless and slick, the air thick with the scent of sex and heat. He was still buried inside you, twitching slightly, chest rising and falling against yours as the last of his orgasm rippled through him in low, broken groans.

“Fuck…” He rasped, voice molten and broken, “That was so good…”

You whimpered softly, your nails grazing the bare skin of his back. His weight pressed you into the mattress just enough to ground you, the fullness of him still inside sending aftershocks rippling through your core.

But then–he moved. Not out of you at first. Just a shift of his hand. A kiss to your cheek. A glance down at your flushed, tear-glossed face.

And then he said it, low and rough:

“But I just want to make you finish one more time…”

Your breath caught. “Sentry–”

He began to pull out slowly, his cock dragging against your oversensitive walls, and you gasped–a choked sound, hips twitching under him.

“I know, baby,” He murmured, voice soft but laced with hunger. “I know you’re sensitive. But I need to feel you come undone again. I need to feel that perfect little pussy squeeze my fingers one more time.”

You barely had time to catch your breath before he was sliding down your body again–this time with something wild in his eyes, a golden flicker like a sunflare behind his lashes. His hand gripped the backs of your thighs, pushing them open with unrelenting strength, folding you open again like pages in a sacred book.

You moaned as the cool air hit your soaked core, his cum leaking from you, trailing down onto the sheets, and he groaned at the sight of it.

“Fuck…Look at this mess,” He commented, dragging his fingers through the slick heat between your legs. “You took me so well…But you’re not finished. Not yet.”

And then his fingers plunged into you again.

Not slow this time.

Not careful.

His forearm flexed as he pumped his fingers into you with devastating precision–three now, thick and fast, his palm grinding against your clit with each wet, relentless thrust. The sound of it was obscene–slick and slapping, your body sucking him back in with every stroke.

You cried out, your thighs clamping around his arm. “Sentry–fuck–too much–”

“Shhh,” He growled, kissing your inner thigh, not slowing. “Yes, you can. You’re gonna give it to me again. I can feel how close you already are.”

You clawed at the sheets, hips bucking off the mattress, your breath stuttering into broken moans. Every thrust of his hand hit that perfect spot–his knuckles grazing your walls, his fingers curling up with divine intention.

Your legs shook violently.

Your mouth dropped open in a silent sob.

You were already there–right there–your core fluttering and clenching around his wrist now, the pressure so intense it bordered on unbearable.

“That’s it,” he gritted, his voice pure sunfire, dripping with praise and possession. “Clench for me. Just like that. Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight–milking my fingers like you never want to stop.”

Your back arched violently.

“Sentry!” You wailed. “I’m gonna–”

“Do it.” His free hand gripped your hip, holding you down as your orgasm tore through you–harder than before, sharper, your entire body convulsing under him. You screamed into the crook of your arm, thighs shaking, your slick gushing around his wrist as he kept fucking you through it, watching with reverent awe as you completely fell apart.

Your hips bucked wildly. Your vision blurred.

And he just watched, glowing like a star reborn, sweat glistening on his chest, his fingers still working you until you were sobbing-wrung out and trembling and twitching under the weight of him.

Only then did he slow, easing his fingers from your soaked, fluttering walls. He brought them to his mouth again, licking them clean, eyes half-lidded with something almost too tender to name.

He crawled back up, slipping beside you, arms already wrapping around your limp, shaking frame.

You couldn’t speak at first–just clung to him, your breath stuttering into his neck, your body still spasming gently with the last shocks of pleasure.

Then–quietly, hoarsely–you managed it:

“…I–I think I’m going to have the best sleep of my life now…”

A dazed little laugh fell from your lips, your hand weakly pressing against his chest.

“Because my brain…Is shot.” Sentry laughed softly, wrapping the blanket around your hips, kissing your temple with quiet reverence.

“Good,” He whispered, golden eyes dimming to a warm, molten glow. “Then I’ve done my job.”