#divider by @uzmacchiato

[madamechrissy]

for me?

summary - Satoru Gojo really loves making you feel better on your period, massages, your favorite chocolates - but maybe it's a little selfish, since he loves fucking you during it so much.

warnings PWP, this is super filthy aha, oral (f receiving - yes I'm crazy) fingering, period sex, TW - mentions of blood, Satoru is basically obsessed with fucking you during it, feral Satoru (he's kinda yandere tbh) kissing and licking your blood off his lips etc, messy ass sex. I'm pmsing mmkay aha </3

Satoru Gojo is the perfect boyfriend, especially when it is that time of the month, and you're cramping. He makes sure he has chocolate for you, the wine you enjoy, and your favorite movie so you two can cuddle after work. But he does all this for honestly the most selfish reasons!!!

He loves fucking you on your period.

It's all lowkey his sneaky little tactics, to get you to plead so sweetly for him to fill you up, to really get rid of those cramps. But he doesn't start off so obvious, in fact you don't even realize it is his end game, not when he makes sure your tampons and pads are stocked, not when he's running you a bubble bath and playing your favorite music.

You love your blue eyed freaky ass man, who's currently massaging your tummy as you both lay on the large soft suede couch in his living room. His big warm hand is pressing soothing circles against your lower tummy, making you whine out at how good it feels.

"More, Toru, please," you ask sweetly, and look back at him, pouting so pretty, as he smiles sweetly with his plump pink lips.

"More what, sweets?" Satoru's voice is literally a purr, he is pressing the heel of his hand against your sore tummy now, you feel the warmth spread lower, biting your lower lip as he moves, hard body against your back.

"lower, please?" He hums then, pressing lower, below your belly button, making you moan, the sound causing him to just leak sticky precum against his boxers.

"There, sweetheart?" You nod eagerly, sighing at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut. Your nipples press against your top, hurting then.

"Toru, will you massage them too?" He chuckles then, reaching around to grip your breast with the other hand, the arm that is under you, wrapping you in those lanky arms.

He begins caressing your nipples, one by one, squishing your breasts in his huge hands, and it feels so perfect, how sore they are and his teasing. His lips brush your neck, dying to slip inside you, but he always makes sure to have you writhing, begging for it first, since it was just too cute to make you beg for it. Especially the first few times when you were so shy and cute about it, but he knows your period has you even more turned on, and he loves to tease you.

"You're so spoiled, aren't you," he teases, silky white locks brushing your cheek as his teeth nip into your delicate skin, dragging across the side of your neck then. "Didn't answer me, use your words."

"Y-yes, you spoil me - mnh!" You're aching for him again, grinding your ass back against him, feeling his thick heavy length.

He's smiling now, pressing his hand harder, tugging you back more so you feel him. At first a little shy and embarrassed, you can't help but want him during your period now, but the way he loses his mind is indeed just a little bit concerning. "Need something else? Don't be shy baby," he says softly, playing with your nipple as his other hand presses even lower on your tummy. "Just tell me."

You whine out and he chuckles at that. "Lower," Satoru moans at that, his fingers brushing even lower over your pelvis, the warmth feeling so fucking good.

"Why don't you go get naked on that bed for me? I'll massage you everywhere," he whispers, plump lips against your ear. You bite back a moan, nodding, and when he finds you laying right over a black towel in a few moments he chuckles again.

"You wanted this the whole time, hmm?: He tugs your thighs apart, kissing up your tummy to your pretty tits, sucking a sore nipple in his hot mouth, making you whine out.

"Toru!" He moans at that, big hand slipping low until he's rolling the pad of his thumb on your clit, wetness pours out along with blood trickling, he moans at the sight of it, his eyes so dilated they're black now.

"Wanna cum, hmm sweetheart? That what my baby needs for her to feel better?" You nod weakly, and he smirks then. "Then say please, be a good girl."

You're arching your hips up for more, while he looks down with his lidded gaze, at the blood slipping from your puffy lips, trickling and making him groan at how fucking delectable it is. 'Mnh-' you can't manage a word, instead you're leaning up, trying to kiss him as his thumb gets slicker and slicker.

"Say please, sweetheart," he urges again, pulling his fingers back as he leans up. "You can use your words, can't you?"

"Please, Toru, ngh!" You're gushing now, he slips his fingers down your slit, now his fingers are just coated in your blood, you used to freak out at it, but now you're throbbing in need for more, his plump lips a breath away, tempting you as they part, and he stares hungrily at you, nostrils flaring. "Toru, in me please!"

"Hmm, not yet baby," you're whining at his teasing but then he's got his snowy head between your thighs, breath tickling your cunt, kissing up your inner thigh. "Fuck, look how messy you are."

"What are- ah!" Satoru hasn't done that yet, he's a munch but usually during your period he just teases your clit and fucks you. When he laps up the blood and arousal from your slit with a long stripe of his tongue, your heart pounds in your chest. "You can't!? Ah!"

He grins, white teeth blinding with red dripping from his pouty lips now. "Why can't I?"

You can't think of the right answer, that it's a deliciously filthy thing and feels way too good. The sight of him with blood on his mouth simply makes you gush more, he notices it too, spreading those puffy lips and watching your clear arousal mix with the bright crimson, making a mess. Satoru laps at it again, and instead of arguing, you're tugging his face against your cunt now, crying out. It feels so fucking good, you're so sensitive and his tongue is flicking inside your gummy walls, more blood pouring now, he devours it, groaning as it coats his face.

Satoru always thinks you're sexy on your period, something about your tits so swollen, the nipples all puffy and sensitive, and your scent makes him fucking feral. Now that he's coveted in your blood and you're convulsing, fucking his face, he can't help but rut his cock into the mattress, coating himself in you and whining at how badly he wants that mess everywhere, until you're both covered in it. He sucks your clit into his mouth, looking up at you, your breasts heaving, mouth wide and drooling.

"Toru, I'm c-close!" You're not fighting it now he notices, grinning against your cunt as he looks up at you under snowy lashes, his huge hands pressing into your ribcage.

You're so close to shattering for him, an embarrassing amount of blood is all over his face as he pulls back, slipping two long fingers in your soppy, bloody cunt, while you eye his pretty face, he's leaning over you, blood dripping from his mouth and chin.

"Cum again, make me such a fucking mess," he whispers in that husky voice, his pale white skin such a stark contrast to all the mess he's got from you on his skin. Shivers go down your body then, and how can you not cum for him, the echoing squelching mixing with your moans. "That's it, such a good girl, gonna help you feel better huh? can't talk baby, that just won't do."

How could you talk, he's so filthy with it, with his long fucking fingers scissoring in and out as you make a bigger mess. When he's licking blood off his lips like some psycho, stark white teeth flashing as he grins so psychotically at you. He's chuckling as he watches you teetering on the edge, huffing, fingers pressing into his biceps, your eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering.

"Ask me the right way, sweetheart, and I'll give you anything," he says, devotion and insanity both in eyes almost black they're so dilated, feral grin on that face while you try to form a word.

"P-please, Toru please - lemme cum I - ah!" Satoru's watching you as he lets you find that release then, cramps subsiding blissfully as the orgasm rocks all over you, pure fucking ecstacy that has you drooling.

Satoru's cock hurts with how bad he wants to be inside the ruby red mess between your thighs, but he needs you begging even more. He slips his crimson coated fingers across your hips, decorating your smooth skin in it in stripes across your hip bones, just fueling his cock to leak more pre. You whine out, cunt pulsing now around nothing, biting your lower lip as your hand slip up his chest.\

"Need more, sweetheart?" You nod weakly, he takes one of your little hands then, gripping your wrist in his long fingers. "Then take more, hmm? such a good girl, there you go," he's encouraging you as you use shaky fingers to undo his pants, and soon his cock springs out, hot and heavy as it smacks your inner thigh. "Tell me what you need."

"Your cock inside me, please, ngh!" Satoru cups your face with one hand, the one somewhat not coated in blood and arousal, using the other to align his thick, mushroomed tip, the squishing and clicking loud and obscene in his room. He leans down low, blood dripping onto your plump, bitten lips, your heart pounds under your breasts then.

"Go ahead, don't be shy sweets," he teases, and you lean up, kissing the blood smeared on his lips, and when he sees it all over your mouth, he loses it, shoving his cock in and groaning, slamming his lips all over yours. You're gasping under him as he stuffs you so full, so wet from your arousal and blood it just slips in even though he's so fucking big. "Love this, don't you?"

"Y-yes," you're licking the coppery taste off your mouth as your boyfriend collectively loses it, biting your lips until they're bleeding too, while his cock fucks a mess out of you and back into you, the smacking of his skin and the soppy messy sounds echoing in your pounding ears. "Satoru!"

"That's it, you are so messy, aren't you? I make you feel better, don't I?" Satoru is huffing those words, blood splattering all up his cock and his flat, toned abdomen, while it spills down your thighs. "Answer me, baby."

"C-can't... talk..." he chuckles then, spreading your thighs even further as he pounds that thick, veiny cock, making you a mess for him, under him, your skin decorated in your own blood like pretty patterns from his artists fingers as he fucks into you. "Ah!" You're drooling, cumming all over his cock, the mess more and more, only urging Satoru further on, his whines against your ear as he grips your hair, slamming his cock so deep.

"I always take care of you, hmm? You love it, being so spoiled?" you're desperately nodding, still unable to do more than gasp and cling to him with messy fingers, nails pressing into his blood covered skin as he fucks you harder, deeper, slamming your cervix with that tip as he throbs in you. "Want me to fill you up, huh? Don't you baby?"

"Please," your weak little whisper is all he needs, cum hot and thick inside your cunt, filling you impossibly as he slows, eliciting one more orgasm with a roll of his hips and his teeth sinking into a sore nipple. Your hands entangle in his white locks, tinging them pinkish red as you cry out, and he's groaning. "Toru..."

"Fuck, you're a wreck, look at you," he's grinning, you are a fucking mess, he's got blood all over you, your trembling thighs, when he pulls out, cum mixing and tinging it pink, he squirts more and more cum out of that messy cock too, decorating your tummy with more and moaning. "God, look at you."

"Satoru..." You're taking several breaths, it looks like a whole fucking murder scene with your psycho, feral boyfriend who's spreading more of his cum and your blood all over. "Can we... shower?"

"Can I get some pictures?"

"Huh!?"

"Huh?"

Y'know I'm not even sorry LMAO not at all lmao

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[chimeralads]

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This is blog is just for interacting with the HelPol community since my actual main blog has been restricted. I just want to research and have people engage with that research in a meaningful way. Any asks should be directed to my main!

[elieenaliak]

You didn’t mean to hit him. You really didn’t.

You were just trying to push him back playfully, hands on his chest as he teased you relentlessly, grinning like a devil. But he leaned forward at the exact wrong moment, and your palm connected—not with his shoulder, but squarely with his face.

There was a sickening little “thump.”

Then silence.

“Oh my god—Xavier!” you gasped, rushing to him as he stumbled back, hand instinctively flying to his nose. “I didn’t mean—Are you okay? I’m so sorry—Xavier, shit, you’re bleeding—”

Panic flared in your chest as you reached for him, trying to tip his head back, your hands fluttering uselessly. “I didn’t think—I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I swear I wasn’t trying to—”

But then he looked up at you.

And smiled.

That lopsided, heat-slicked grin that melted your words right off your tongue. His nose was bleeding, face flushed, but his eyes—half-lidded, dazed, hungry—locked on yours like you were the most intoxicating thing he’d ever seen.

“Oh...wow..” he murmured, almost in awe. “that was…”

He licked a drop of blood from his upper lip, and his smile deepened, that dazed, turned-on look spreading across his face. “That was really hot...”

Your jaw dropped, he can not be for real right now...right??Maybe you accidently gave him concussion too, he is probably deluded from pain an—

He tilted his head slightly, his hair sticking to his damp forehead, and that pleased, breathless grin widened. “You get so worked up when you’re worried,” he murmured, leaning forward, and you couldn’t tell if the tremble in your hands was from guilt or the way he was suddenly looking at you like that.

“…You gonna kiss it better?”

Saw this piece of a masterpiece by juyo (in tumblr @stardustdusting) and had to get out of bed at 5 am to write about this. (JUST LOOK AT HIM GAWWD)

@uzmacchiato dividers!

[miedei]

for years or for hours

spending the night at spencer's apartment for the first time, and he's more than a little obsessed with you

a/n: my obsession w early seasons!spencer strikes again!!!! i saw an edit of train episode spencer when i was drunk the other day and wrote half of this. he fucks guysss i swear he fucks

cw: shy!reader, fem!reader, smut mdni, fingering, praise, spencer is confident like v v confident, handjob, unprotected piv

wc: 3.7k

mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

Spencer’s quickly got you expecting contradictions. From the sight of him, lanky and awkward-seeming, you’d never expected anything of the sort that you’ve seen. 

When he asked you out, subtle and slightly cocky in his charm. When he’d swooped down to kiss your cheek when you’d met him at the restaurant. When he kissed you on the sidewalk, mouth warm and all-consuming. 

His apartment isn’t a surprise, thank goodness. You’re nervous enough as is, spending the evening at his for the first time. It might have done you in if it was too far off from your expectations. 

No, the cozy warmth of his domicile is just right for you, and you feel more than comfortable curling up on the sofa waiting for him to return from the kitchen. 

It’s another astonishment when he sits down next to you, smile soft as he pulls you into his side with an arm around your shoulder, cool as can be. You’re not complaining, of course. Not even as you duck your head to hide the flush that’s crept up on your cheeks.

You’d gotten used to it, you thought. To expect the incongruity between his outward-facing persona and his true actions. 

Apparently not, though. Not when you gasp when his index finger crooks under your chin, guiding your face up towards his. 

His eyes dance as he looks down at you, a level of devotion that you feel just as vividly, no matter how early it is to feel this way.

“I was wondering if you could tell me what you want tonight,” His voice is low, melodic as it floats into the limited space between the two of you, “so we both know what we’re prepared for.”

Your words get stuck behind your molars, only a squeak leaving your lips when his thumb swipes over the curve of your jaw. His resultant smile is indulgent, even as he prompts you again. 

“I really want to hear you say it for me, please.”

His cupid’s bow is really defined, you think stupidly. It’s so distinct and sharp, you can’t help but want to kiss it. But he won’t let up, you know that. 

It’s not that you don’t want to sleep with him. You’ve wanted to since you met him, and more every day that you got to know him. You spent nearly an hour in the shower before coming to his apartment just for that reason. But wanting it and saying out loud are two different things. 

Your voice is low when it finally comes, a whisper under your breath. 

“You know I want you, Spencer.”

His smile is tender, spreading wider across his face as he leans closer to you. 

“What is it you want?”

“Spence…”

“All you’ve got to do is explain to me. I just want to know what you’re okay with doing tonight,” He croons, as if he doesn’t know, the bastard. 

It takes a few more moments of silence, his thumb brushing over your skin steadily.

“I want to sleep with you.” 

There’s an agonizing beat of stillness, but he makes up for it swiftly when he descends on you. That cupid’s bow melds perfectly against you, the softness of his lips sending giddy sparks up to your brain. 

He’s muttering against your lips, but your brain’s too fuzzy to register more than a few words at a time, what with his fingers gripping your chin, and the other hand descending to your hip. Soft compliments and musings spill into your mouth, entreating you to come closer, kneeling on the sofa cushion just to be able to lean over him. 

He pulls back at your movements, letting out an amused chuckle. 

“You want to get closer?” 

He leans back against the couch, spreading his legs slightly, causing his slacks to tighten around his thighs in a way that has you salivating. His hands returning to your hips, he looks up at you with that smile that makes you shiver. 

“Come here, pretty girl.”

The nickname sends a shudder through you, but not even that could keep you back. 

Despite your flush, you let him guide you into his lap, your hands awkwardly hanging by your sides. 

His hands come up to brush against your knuckles, causing you to delight in the feeling of his calloused palm. He continues to move, skimming over your wrist, to your arm. The touch goes to your shoulder, the curve of your neck, and settles on your face, cupping your jaw in two impossibly large hands. 

Drawing you to him, your foreheads touch. A sigh leaves your lips, wanting desperately to feel him kiss you again. 

“Spencer…”

His mouth quirks up at one side, his left thumb rubbing circles into your cheek. 

“Don’t have to ask me for it. You can take whatever you want, I’ll go willingly. Okay?”

You don’t bother responding, the feeling of his hands on you overwhelming your senses until it’s all you can do to lean in, pressing your front to his. Kissing him again, you can’t help but push closer, your lips parting against his. 

Your mind floats away as he delves into your mouth, sounds muffled by his lips on yours. It could’ve been minutes, or hours, but you can’t bring yourself to wonder. Not when his lips are so soft, when you can slowly rock yourself on his lap.

Your movements force him to part from your lips, groaning. Slipping his hands down to your hips again, he urges you to rise off his lap, standing with you. Even as you both stand, his breath continues to mingle with yours, as if he can’t be enticed to part from you. He doesn’t even move to speak, his words tumbling straight into your mouth.

“Can’t— can’t do this here. My bedroom, okay?”

A whine leaves your mouth, but you nod desperately, letting him walk you backwards towards his bedroom. Despite your unwillingness to move your mouth from his, you can’t stop yourself from stepping back, gazing around his room with insatiable curiosity. 

It’s exactly what you’d expect from looking at him. Neat, but slightly unkempt, with lining every available shelf, and even some stacked in towers on the floor. 

As you turn around, eyes roving over every inch of the room, you jolt at the feeling of arms wrapping around you from behind. Warm breath hits your ear, causing you to shiver, then relax back into his chest.

“I’m glad you’re so interested in my home, but can I give you a tour later? There’s something else I’d much rather be doing with you right now.”

You let out a breathless giggle, nodding and turning in his arms, curving your own arms around his neck. A smile breaks out over his face, dipping down to press a slow, sipping kiss to your lips before directing you over to his bed. 

Falling on your back on his bed, you revel in the softness of his sheets. Stroking the duvet absentmindedly, the smell of Spencer is even more concentrated here. His characteristically complex scent surrounds you, notes of citrus, old paper, and something unmistakably him. 

It elicits another laugh from the back of your throat, causing him to look down at you with a quirked brow. He descends on you, crawling up the mattress until he’s hovering over you with an amused look on his face. 

“What’s so funny?”

Despite the giggles still bubbling up in your throat, the sight of him above you has them halting immediately. 

“Just excited, I guess. A little nervous.”

The dark pools of his eyes seem to deepen further, a swirling haze of browns that suck you in. 

“I’m excited too. And a bit nervous, I suppose. But, I’ve got to tell you, I’ve been wanting to have you here for a while, in my bed.”

And there he goes again, saying something that sends a shiver of desire and heat down your spine, forcing blood to rush to your cheeks. 

Without even trying to come up with a response, you lean up instead, capturing his lips with yours again. That works wonders in shutting his nerve-inducing declarations up, his hand coming down to grip your hip firmly. 

You both get lost in it, lips moving steadily against each other for an indeterminate amount of time. Your brain only returns to you when you feel his fingers dip beneath the waistband of your pants. 

He pulls away, looking in your eyes for any protest. Instead, you lean up for one more peck, before holding his wrist and encouraging him to descend further. He lets out a shuddering breath, his calloused fingertips tracing the skin right over your hipbone. 

“Can I take this off?”

His voice comes out in a murmur, only audible because there are scant centimetres between your faces. Desperate, you nod quickly, mumbling your assent.

“Yeah, Spence, I want it off.”

He smiles, kissing you one last time before clambering off you, kneeling between your legs. He helps you eagerly, his fingers fumbling with pulling your pants off you. The moment you’re rid of the article of clothing, he wastes no time in climbing over you again, his hand returning immediately to your hip. 

He seems to be focusing solely on touching you, his eyes angled down at where his hand touches your skin. Suddenly you wish you’d bothered to wear nicer underwear, anything better than the slightly ratty pair of red panties that surely don’t match your bra, but he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

Brushing his fingers over the front of your panties, he lets out a groan, dropping his forehead to your collarbone. Slowly, slowly, he dips down further, tracing over the small wet patch that’s been forming since he kissed you the first time tonight. You can feel his lips curve into a smile against your skin at this discovery, and you can’t help but beat him to the punch.

“Don’t laugh, Spencer, please?”

“Why would I tease you? You’re all ready for me, I’m so glad.”

His words are placating, but you can hear the satisfaction in his tone. 

His fingers haven’t ceased their movements, tracing slow circles over the gusset of your panties as you squirm under him. 

He lets you whine a little longer, before retracting his hand, chuckling at the resultant yelp of protest. 

“You’re all wet for me?”

You nod frantically, lifting your hips in an effort to tempt him into ridding you of your panties. 

“Yeah, Spence…”

He nods in satisfaction, finally giving in and dragging the fabric down your legs. Once he’s set them aside carefully, he drags his palm up and down your inner thigh, kneading at the plush flesh there. Slowly moving higher, higher, he makes you wait until his knuckles brush against the bump of your pussy, making both of you suck in sharp breaths. 

His eyes flick up to you, fingers gliding up and down over the seam of you, watching your face contort with the too-little pleasure. After watching you for a beat longer, he swipes up your slick with one lithe finger, positioning it at your entrance. 

Pressing his forehead against you, he hums softly, kissing the apples of your cheeks as he slowly presses his middle finger into you. The feeling is overwhelming, the slight stretch of his finger causing you to arch your back, pressing your chest into his. 

He grins, swallowing your moans with a crushing kiss. Slowly speeding up his movements, he brings his thumb up to cover your clit, swiping slow circles over the sensitive spot. 

Finally, he interrupts the silence, words tumbling out of his mouth as if he’d been holding them back with great difficulty. 

“So tight, angel. Does that feel good?”

You can only moan in answer, struggling to keep your eyes open as he slides in another finger. 

“That’s it, there you go. Can’t wait to see you when you cum, you going to cum for me?”

His hair has fallen over his forehead, looking down at you with his pupils dilated. 

Speeding up his ministrations on your clit, he makes you squirm again, watching with delight as you grind your hips down against his hand. The slow-building tension within you rises, each movement of his fingers and your hips bringing you closer and closer, until you have to grip his wrist in both of your hands, throwing your head back. 

He leans down, mouthing at the now-exposed column of your throat, his words vibrating against your skin. 

“Come on, angel, want to see you fall apart, you can do it. Wanted to see you like this for so long, so pretty and pliant for me. You’re going to let me keep touching you, huh? As long as I want? So that I— oh, good girl!— so— so that I can see you fall apart for me?”

He’s so preoccupied with rambling that even you reaching your climax in the middle of his sentence doesn’t stop him, but his hands show you all the appreciation you need. Along with his fervent praise, his right hand continues to thrust within you, allowing you to ride out your high. His left hand has snaked up your shirt, thumb swiping at the skin right below the underwire of your bra. 

It’s only once you whine in overstimulation, pushing his hand away from your cunt, that he pulls away, although he never stops his caresses to your torso. Leaning in to dot kisses on your lips, he continues to mumble.

“Did so good for me, angel, thank you. Did that feel good?”

Chest heaving with the aftershocks, you gaze up at him with stars in your eyes, nodding.

“Felt really good, Spencer. I didn’t— didn’t expect…”

You trail off, unsure of how to explain why you’re so overwhelmed, but he understands, moving off of you to lay on his back next to you.

“I know. I don’t exactly think I was expecting for this to happen tonight either… But it was okay?”

You can’t help but grin at the contrast between his previous confidence and the hesitance he exhibits now. Shifting to lay half on top of him, you prop your chin up on his chest.

“It was more than okay, Spence,”

Without thinking about it, your hand drifts to his lower stomach, trailing down his clothed skin to the waistband of his own pants.

“Do you want to… keep going?”

Your voice comes out soft, still a little flustered by your own forwardness, but you still stare up at him, hoping he’ll say yes. 

At the feeling of your fingers stroking his waistband, he throws his head back with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. You can’t stop yourself from laughing, shaking your head at him. 

After a moment, he looks back down, his hand coming down to rest on your back. His breathing is slightly shaky, but his voice remains solid.

“If you want to, sweetheart. Okay?”

Another wave of infatuation rocks through your body, smiling up at him once more. Moving your hand away from his pants, you drag your palm up his torso.

“Can we take this off, please?”

His smile gains a wicked tinge to it, his hand moving in circles against your back.

“Only if you do too.”

You assent readily, kneeling on the mattress in order to pull off your shirt and bra eagerly, leaving you completely bare. Although you’d normally be embarrassed, you don’t seem to find a moment to be shy, not when he’s shirtless on the bed in front of you. 

Spencer smiles up at you, the smile he uses when he knows he’s got someone cornered in an argument, the one he uses when he’s sure he’ll be able to beat you in chess. 

“Come here, sweetheart.”

He reaches out to hold you by the waist, dragging you over to lay at his side again. His arm holding you to him, he grabs your hand, laying it on the warm skin of his chest.

“You can touch me angel, go ahead.”

Biting your lip, you slowly move your fingers over his skin, leaning forward to press a tentative kiss to his chest. He squeezes your waist affectionately, sucking in a harsh breath when your hand trails down to his waistband again. 

Slipping your hand under his pants and underwear, you brush your fingertips against the heated skin of his cock, gasping just as he does. Looking up to him, you see him squeeze his eyes shut. 

Your confidence grows, dipping even lower in order to wrap your fingers loosely around his shaft. A breathy moan leaves him, sending shivers down your spine. 

An experimental tug gets him throwing his head back in pleasure, groans tumbling from his lips.

All of a sudden you can’t take the barrier between you, pulling your hand out of his pants and tugging his pants and boxers down clumsily. He laughs a little, helping you out with a shaky hand until he can kick the fabric off his ankles. 

Before you can second-guess yourself, you reach out again, wrapping your fingers around his cock again. Slowly moving your hand up and down, you watch him begin to pant softly. Only once you’ve gotten into a rhythm do you allow yourself to look down, the sight causing you to clench your thighs together. 

It’s like the rest of him, long and surprisingly thick, with a curve to it that has your cunt feeling more empty than ever. You can’t help but squirm, pressing your front further into his side. 

Even with your efforts to stay composed, nothing gets past Spencer. In between grunts and breathy moans, he still manages to tease you slightly.

“What do you think, angel? Want to keep going like this, or do you want me to make us both feel good?”

His words have you shifting against him, wetness pooling within you again.

At your nod, he slowly peels your hand away from his cock, pressing at your shoulder to lay you back against the bed again.

With a breath stuck in your throat, you watch as he kneels between your parted legs, hand stroking at your hip. With his other hand holding the base of his cock, he leans forward, swiping his head through the accumulated slick pooling at your entrance. 

Both of you hiss at the sensation, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. 

With his eyes locked onto yours, he slowly pushes forward, letting you feel the stretch. Kissing your palm, he watches you intently, ready to stop at any hint of discomfort. However, although it’s a bit of a struggle, the pain-mixed-pleasure quickly becomes overwhelming bliss. 

He continues to push in until his pelvis is flush with yours, falling forward with a hand on the sheets next to you. Leaning in to place a crushing kiss on your lips, he murmurs against you as he begins to rock his hips.

“Pretty— pretty girl, you feel so good. So good for me, sweetheart, so tight,”

He pants into your mouth, thrusting slow and deep. Every time he presses into your fluttering cunt, his pelvis grinding against your swollen clit, neither of you can keep quiet. 

He can’t help but speed up, gripping one of your thighs and hiking it up around his waist, allowing him to sink that much deeper. You’re captivated, both by the sensations of him, and the sight of him. His lips are parted, eyes dark and lidded as he gazes down at you, face overcome with both affection and lust. 

It’s not long until you start feeling it again, that unknowable, intangible pleasure that goes straight to your head, legs beginning to tremble. Trying to warn him, you raise a hand to grip at his shoulder, nails digging into the skin there. 

“Spencer… Feels so good, think m’gonna—”

Your mouth tips open on a soundless moan, back arching off his duvet.

“I know, angel. Getting close again?”

One of his hands snakes down between your bodies, tracing maddening circles over your clit. The stimulation is just enough, just what you need to get you there, feeling the pleasure shoot through your veins. 

It takes one, two, three more movements of his hips, and you fall apart, a low, keening moan ripping itself from your throat. Spencer hums, muttering praises down at you until you tip over into overstimulation.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck— so tight, you feel so good. You’re going to make me cum, sweetheart, can I— can I, on your stomach?”

His hand comes up to knead at the softness of your stomach, staring into your eyes. 

At your gasped-out yes, he pulls out of you with a groan, tugging at his cock a few more times until he cums with a low groan, marking your skin with his release. Once he’s just as spent as you are, he collapses at your side, arm sliding under your shoulders to pull you closer, as if he’s loathed to be parted from you. 

The room is silent for a few minutes, the soft sounds of the city punctuated by the heavy breathing coming from both of you. 

Only once your breathing evens out, he leans over, dotting kisses in your hairline.

“Felt so good, angel. How are you feeling?”

You smile hazily, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Really good. A bit… sticky.”

Both of you become increasingly aware of the cooling mix of fluids on your bodies. With a chuckle, he sits up, rubbing his thumb over your shoulder. 

“I’ll draw us a bath, how does that sound?”

A rush of warmth goes through your body, and you follow his movements, sitting next to him and capturing his lips with yours again. 

“I really like you, Spencer Reid.”

He doesn’t reply, not in words. But the swirling emotions in his eyes, and the all-consuming kiss he gives you are more than enough answers.

[orphicsun]

warnings: 18+ content, abby anderson + fem!reader, oral sex (a! receiving), another blue-collar abby blurb.

-

It happens so often, it's become a bit of a routine—Abby's large frame carelessly clinging to a shower wall, your knees reddened but disregarded, the thought of such a sensation instead replaced with the tangy, wet film of your hard-working woman's arousal straight from the source.

"Fuck, don't stop," she softly pleads, the breakage in her voice enough to crush you down and leave you nothing but a tongue to indulge past her slick lips. It's always something about the careless confidence she carries on her, but in the same sentence, she can contain nothing but shy pleasure bubbling beneath her usual assertive surface.

"Abby—” you begin, vibrations making the beautiful woman above you grab you by your hair and shove your mouth back onto her pussy, effectively silencing you.

"Shush, baby. Just eat my pussy, okay?" She sighs, something you think to be almost comically close to relief when you attach your lips to her clit and slather your tongue over the sensitive nerves just underneath the pink button. "Been a long fuckin' day at work, I've been needing this."

You put enough trust in both Abby's strong structure and the tile-covered wall to wrap your arms around her thighs, leaning into her pussy as you lap up everything that leaks from her hole.

You get into a bit of a dilemma when pleasing her, as your cravings tell you to mindlessly lick at every inch of her pussy whether or not it's lips or her clit. However, the only time she lets you eat her out is after a long shift, after she doesn't have time for bullshit or your urges to tease. You always have to keep your restraint when you know you're tongue deep in her perfect hole and her clit is still begging for your attention.

You know you're doing something right when you feel her clit beat rapidly, twitching against your nose. You curl your tongue deep inside and violently press against the ribbed insides of her pussy until you feel precum flooding your tastebuds and mind, and from there, you let your mind zone out on everything else but her.

The low groans above you, followed by something so delicately broken and higher, a tone Abby hardly allows herself to use, only drives you to please her further. You nudge your nose against your clit and tongue-fuck her hard and deep for as long as you can, even after her thighs flutter and press against your cheeks, until she has to unfortunately pry you from the place you love so passionately.

When you're finally standing, you're not met with the usual hug and bed; instead, she pins you against the wall with her body, mushing your tits together hard enough to make you moan.

"My turn."

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[evamame]

papa?

picking up your husband iwaizumi hajime after his days work at the gym is over with your baby wrapped up on your chest. something had gone wrong with his car, resulting in it currently at the repair shop being fixed. this left you and your one year old son in charge of pick up duty. you slide open the door and step into the vast gymnasium of japan’s national men’s volleyball team, greeted with the sound of shoes squeaking on freshly polished hardwood floor and the smack of volleyballs being spiked over the net. sitting on a bench off to the side of the court is hajime, writing some type of report in a notebook with a focused expression. you walk along the sidelines to him, holding your baby’s head to shield him from any unsuspected volleyballs that may fly your way.

hajime only looks up from his work as you seat yourself next to him, typical. he’s always so focused and invested in his job. only during his work hours is he like this, though—he always makes time for his two favorite people.

hajime smiles at you and places a kiss to your temple in greeting, putting his notebook and pen off to the side before shifting in his seat to face you more directly. “hey. didn’t realize you were here.”

“must’ve lost track of time again, right?”

“as usual,” he admits a bit sheepishly, “i really need to finish filling out this sheet of supply orders for next month.”

“hmph. you have that nice smart watch but you hardly ever pay attention to when you need to clock out of work,” you gesture to the sleek black band on his wrist as you speak.

“sorry, love i—” his words are cut off by the babbling of your son, who’s stubby arms are reaching for his papa. he looks up at his dad with wide and admiring eyes, dawning the same tan skin as his father and the same deep brown color in his wispy head of hair and irises. there’s not a doubt in sight that he’s hajime’s child; he’s practically the spitting image of him.

you two can’t help but chuckle at his efforts to cling to his dad, his movements restricted by the wrap holding him close against your chest. “you wanna give papa a hug?” you coo.

the restraint doesn’t give in, and your son looks up at you with an adorably frustrated face of confusion and surprise at the spectacle. “you can’t get anywhere in this wrap, huh?” you say as you gently pull him out of the restraint, handing him off to hajime.

once your son is in hajime’s arms, it’s within an instant that he wraps his small and chubby arms around his neck. hajime holds him securely against his chest, an affectionate laugh escaping his lips at the way his baby boy looks up at him with such adoring eyes. “looks like you really missed your papa,” hajime says fondly before placing a peck to the top of his delicate head. at this, your baby giggles loudly and begins to blabber incoherent sentences, ones that hajime pretends to understand nonetheless.

“you know, once we got here, he kept asking me ‘papa?’ the whole walk from the parking lot to the entrance. i guess he recognizes this place pretty well now.”

“oh, really?” at your words he peppers kisses all along your son’s chubby cheeks, “papa missed you too. so, so much.”

and it’s not without your son first being showered with praise and love from the team that the three of you leave to go home, praise that your baby accepts with innocent giggles and lots of squirming—all from the comfort of his papa’s warm embrace. undoubtedly his favorite place to be.

masterlist | taglist | tags: @scoupsworld @amaliaaliena @mires765

a/n: iwaizumi is such a good boy dad. a little self indulgent bcs i have big baby fever.

© evamame 2025. all rights reserved. please do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my work.

[amatariki]

ME OR THE PS5 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ tell me which of us is more your type

(CATALOGUE) — heeseung has been spending the whole day cooped up on his ps5 and you've reached your limit. god forbid a girl wants some attention from her boyfriend.

the muse: idol bf!lee heeseung x fem!reader wc: 735 warnings: cuddling, kissing, pet names, fluff, lmk if anything else ig

whispers: small smth bcs my hand is itching to write. was listening to ps5 by salem ilese and txt. i thought it was super riki coded at first but then i decided to write this for heeseung bcs ive seen a bunch of similar fics for riki.

reblog and i'll kiss you <3

You eye Heeseung disdainfully, face scrunched up.

Of course, your boyfriend's way too invested in his umpteenth round of whatever game he's playing to notice you scrutinizing him.

"Heeseung," you call out exasperatedly. "Can we go watch that movie now, please?"

"Yeah, princess," he mumbles out the reply, only half-focusing on what you're saying. "Just one more round."

That's what he'd been saying for the past few hours and you were sick and tired of it. It wasn't everyday you get your boyfriend all to yourself with his busy schedule due to being an idol and here he was, stuck up on his PS5 playing whatever game he was so invested in.

Not that you had a problem with him gaming. But you wished he would spend some time with you. Half the day had passed and he still hasn't spent any time with you.

Scoffing, you storm out of the room with your arms folded even though Heeseung is too absorbed in his game to notice that you're gone.

A few minutes later, Heeseung frowns in confusion at his screen, not understanding why his game suddenly cut off. However, the confusion quickly clears up when he figures out that the Wi-Fi has magically stopped working.

He gets up to go investigate the router so he can get back to his game, only to be stopped by you.

"Hey, princess," he says, his hands finding their way to your waist. "Do you know what happened to the Wi-Fi? It suddenly cut off."

"Yeah, I do," you reply smoothly. "I turned it off."

"Why?" he asks, pouting. "What happened?"

Now it's your turn to pout.

"Because you've been stuck up on your PS5 the whole day since morning. It's evening, Hee. I haven't seen your face since breakfast. You haven't had lunch today because you're stuck with one more round and you won't spend any—"

You don't get to finish your sentence as Heeseung silences you with his lips against yours. His pillowy lips feel good against yours and you feel all your anger melt away against your will.

You, however, still manage to glower up at Heeseung as he pulls away in an attempt to get him to abandon his games and come cuddle with you and watch a movie.

Heeseung's willpower is no match for your adorable scowl. You always looked cute despite how serious your expressions were.

He chuckles, rubbing the small of your back as he kisses your forehead like you were a fragile doll in his hands.

"Y'know what, princess," he starts. "Why don't you go turn the Wi-Fi back on and I'll shut down my PS5 and order some takeout so we can cuddle with some food and blankets and watch that movie together, hm?"

Heeseung can't help but melt when he sees your face brighten up at his words.

"Okay," you chirp, nodding. You pull out of his hold, his hands lingering on your waist as if he was afraid to let you go. "I'll go do that. But you better not be playing when I get back or I'll throw your PS5 in the trash."

He chuckles at that. "Now, now. There's no need for such cruel measures. But hurry up, princess."

A movie and a few boxes of takeout later, Heeseung finds himself on the couch, a sleeping you wrapped in his arms.

He smiles, unable to tamp down his wild and powerful feelings for you fluttering inside his heart as he looks down at your peaceful face with a pout on your lips as if you were mad because you couldn't pet a cat you met in your dream.

He leans down and places a soft kiss on the top of your head, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo lingering on your hair.

He then adjusts himself so that the two of you were now lying down on the couch, your head resting comfortably in the crook of his neck as he wrapped his arms around your body to keep you secure in his embrace.

After pulling the blanket over both of your bodies, he turns off the television using the remote before setting it down on the sofa table and nuzzling into you in the darkness.

"Good night, princess," he whispers as the apartment drowns in silence interrupted by both of your breathing and the faint whirr of appliances. "Dream of me, won't you?"

taglist: @chrrific @lezleeferguson-120 @koiiqqqq @ikeu05 @maewphoria

------ᝰ‧₊ written by ©amatariki 2025

[sexlapis]

Your Cecil works are AMAZING I was wondering if you’re possibly taking reqs? 🥹💕 I can’t help but wonder what his reaction would be if he’s listening in or spying on a new hero or individual he’s unfamiliar with maybe doesn’t quite trust them yet and he just so happens to catch a private moment where they call out his name.

℘ private moments

₊⊹ cecil stedman x gn!hero!reader

ns4w. no gender/pronouns mentioned. a tiny bit dark. EXTREME INVASION OF PRIVACY. voyeurism. pillow humping. male masturbation. begging. unintentional mutual masturbation. cecil being a paranoid pervert.

⤷ you like cecil more than you let on.

wc: 2.2k

a/n: thank u! and i’m just going to assume that by “private moments” you mean reader is jerking their shit…please correct me if i’m wrong…anyways. nonnie i’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted. i may have gotten a little bit carried away ^_^

masterlist

*

Cecil isn’t sure what to make of you.

Sure, you’re a competent hero. Smart, talented, courageous, strong. Not viltrumite strong, but strong enough to be considered in the run up for the new Guardians. That’s something.

You’re a sort of enigma to him. Outside of what he has digged up on your past and upbringing, the information he has on you is limited and your general personality does nothing to help that fact. With the few conversations he’s had with you, you’ve been quiet. Closed off. Aloof. Shy. Saying just enough to keep a tête-à-tête flowing but not enough to reveal anything deeper or private about yourself.

The thing is, what you don’t reveal in words, you reveal with your actions.

He’s the director of the Global Defence Agency. When you’ve held a position like this for over twenty years you tend to pick up on little behaviours and ticks that other people would gloss over.

Like how your eyes would always flicker around the room when in discussion with him, not once meeting his blue ones. How you steal glances at him when you think he and nobody else is looking. How you’d hurriedly fix your hair and brush off imaginary dust from your clothes when he appeared in front of you. How the rise and falls of your chest would quicken when he was in any sort of physical proximity to you.

Tiny things like that, invisible to others, were clear as day to him.

At first, Cecil was convinced that you simply did not like him.

This wasn’t new or even unusual. He’s the boss. He makes the rules. He’s tough on his employees and the heroes. In his position, such traits were essential for success. So, of course they wouldn’t like him. Of course you wouldn’t like him.

But something in the back of his mind kept telling him that this assumption was wrong. That he’s missing something. That you’re hiding something.

It’s not a surprise that he doesn’t trust you right away from these behaviours alone. It’s suspicious. You’re suspicious. Even if you’re accepted by the other heroes, to him you’re suspicious.

And after everything that has happened, Cecil won’t allow himself to be folded again.

He just prays that those cameras he told his men to install in your apartment pick up something good.

*

It all comes to light after a mission well done.

Cecil’s kept tabs on you.

And all in all, you don’t seem like a threat. You live a normal, average life. Running day to day errands, going to cafés to try new pastries, going to the gym, hanging out with your friends (of which he has also investigated), hell, even volunteering on your free days.

He doesn’t know if you’re actually safe or he just wants to believe that you are.

But with all the proof in front of him, you are no threat. That doesn't mean he’ll take his chances.

Wolves in sheep’s clothing are more common than one thinks.

Of course, the camera feed is for his eyes and his alone. He doesn’t want any of the creeps who he’s heard say, quite frankly, downright deviant things about you. Though, those cameras were admittedly overkill - his people who were tailing you and recording your every move was more than enough. But as he said, he’ll never risk it again.

Today was a good day.

The threat is taken down in record time, mostly thanks to you, a fact that Cecil makes sure to throw in your face.

Your reaction is a small, embarrassed smile, a glance down at your feet and the claim that, “it was just good teamwork”.

How humble. So damn perfect all the time.

It’s just him in the main monitor room now, watching you getting ready for bed, all the other workers having left hours ago to enjoy an actual life. He hasn’t had one of those in a long time.

Cecil sighs. He peels off his suit jacket.

You’re going through your night routine now; a shower, brushing your teeth, washing your face, what he thinks is yoga.

Active outside of superhero duties too. Other heroes could learn from you.

After watching you for a few weeks, he’s come to find this routine of yours therapeutic. Comforting almost. With all the uncertainty, the debilitating stress, the constant threat of danger pointing arrows at his head, the swirling paranoia and distrust that curls around his heart like poisonous vines, you remain stable in his chaotic life - a promise that some things never change.

He likes that.

Cecil looks away when you unwrap your towel from your body and dress into your pyjamas. It’s silly since he's already violated your privacy in ways that would get the average person thrown in jail, but he looks away anyway. He’s already done something terrible. He can be good, even if it’s just a small amount.

It takes no time for you to switch off the lights and curl up into your bed, snuggling underneath your sheets. At times like this, Cecil misses sleep.

For a while you scroll on your phone. Cecil rests on his back, lying his face on his palm as he observes you. God, the way people are just able to scroll on a small device for so long amazes him sometimes.

You spend a grand total of an hour and half doing that. Heroes these days.

He watches as you place your phone on your bedside table and stare up at the ceiling.

You get like that occasionally, Cecil’s noticed. At times, you’ll just be lost in your own mind, your daydreams, looking up to the sky and imagining all types of things. You speak to yourself too. A creep of guilt bloats up in his stomach. How can someone like him feel guilty about something as trivial as this? There are acts he’s committed far worse than this. Unspeakable acts. Things that he couldn’t even admit to a demon from hell.

But spying on some new, baby-hero is what makes him feel like shit. Great.

Cecil drags his hand down his face. A small throbbing ebbs in between his eyes.

Then he hears something from your bedroom feed. A moan.

He sits up immediately.

Are you hurt? Injured from the mission? You listen but he doesn’t think it’s beyond you to not seek medical treatment out of pride. Especially considering how you act around him.

Cecil looks up at the monitor.

You’re not in pain. Not at all. Quite the opposite, actually.

When he was watching you just minutes ago, you were under the covers and seemingly getting ready to go to sleep.

Now? You’re not sleeping in the slightest.

Instead, your night pants have been thrown on your bedroom floor and you’re straddling one of your pillows, rolling your hips languidly.

…What?

What?

Yes, he’s put cameras all over your living space. Yes, he’s had people follow you wherever you go. Yes, he knows you have a life and you have your needs like everybody else in the world, hero or not. But this? Cecil’s never seen you do…this in all the weeks he’s been keeping an eye on you.

As if he didn’t feel bad for violating your privacy already. This goes far beyond digging for information about you, far beyond what is necessary.

This is just pure perversion.

So why can’t he stop watching? Why are his eyes glued to the way you grind your hips into the pillow? Why can’t he look away from the shirt trapped in between your teeth and the nimble fingers that play with your nipples?

He should stop.

Your gasps crescendo. One hand leaves your chest to grip onto your bedsheets. It seems like you’re close.

He should stop.

Cecil snaps out of his trance.

What is he doing? Spying - no, perving - on a hero, a new hero at that, one who is under his authority and guidance, one who looks up to him for help and stability in this job. What he’s doing is disgusting, it’s vile. If anyone were to find out about his actions, he would never be viewed the same way again, his reputation in fluttering tatters.

And yet.

“Cecil.”

That one sigh that flows from your mouth is a good enough encouragement for Cecil to throw away any sense he had left.

Is that why you’ve been acting the way you have? Those looks, glances, those lip bites - you’re attracted to him?

Now, Cecil isn’t blind. You’re beautiful, truly. You’re kind, sweet, eager and your almost skintight suit leaves little to the imagination - don’t look at him like that, he’s heard other people say the same things he has and worse.

To think those feelings are reciprocated? To an extent, at least? Shock doesn’t even begin to describe it. Cecil’s nothing special to look at. Even worse to know. He thought those days were behind him - times of people being attracted to him, wanting to be with him.

He stands corrected.

“Ah, fuck it.” He grunts out as he undoes the buckle of his belt.

Not like he has anything to lose.

He tugs his slacks and boxers down just enough to get his erect cock out. The show you’ve put on had already made him taut and aching in his pants.

He spits in his palm and lets out a staggered moan when his hand meets his warm, hard dick. It’s been a while. He doesn’t usually get a chance to do this often.

Cecil’s gaze flickers to the screen again.

There you are, still riding away - now both hands are on the mattress to stable yourself for leverage as you hump your own pillow.

Heat prickles in Cecil’s lower stomach.

It’s so…primal. Savage. The desperation and desire of your movements are so unlike you, so unlike how you present yourself to the rest of the world.

For a moment, he wonders how your hero friends would react if they knew you wanted to fuck the boss they all hated so much.

He winds his hand up and down his cock and gulps. Damn, this feels good. He forgot what he’s been missing out on.

Cecil can’t bring himself to look away from you for a second. If he thought you were beautiful in your suit and casual clothes, you’re stunning now, wearing only a night shirt and shorts as you fuck yourself to completion. Cecil doesn’t even think you’re wearing any underwear. His eyes roll back into his head at the thought.

He’s not lasting long.

“Cecil, please…”

Begging, too? You want him dead. He wishes you were like this with him in person and not so damn reserved.

He grumbles and speeds up his hand, trying to match the pace you’re going at - a fast, untamed one, borderline wild and animalistic.

“Cecil, please. Please, please, I wanna cum…”

Is this why you’re so shy around him? So tense and astute? You’re such a good, little hero. His hero. It’s no wonder that you act the way you do. You just need someone to help you let off some steam, you just need someone to take the edge off for you, someone who knows how to. You need him to take care of you.

All you had to do was ask.

Cecil’s hand is a blur over his cock. You’re obscene. Squeaks can be heard over the feed, squeaks and creaks from your bed, whining under the ferocity of your movements. God, you really need this.

“Cecil…Cecil, ‘m so close.”

“Fuck, yes.” Cecil loses himself in your pleading, your cries, your moans, your whimpers - they’re his redemption. “Fuck, yes. Cum for me. Go on, let go. Fuck, you deserve it.”

Like you can hear him, feel him, you do let go. Your hips stutter, mouth dropping open in a silent scream as you find release on the pillow, rotating your hips through what appears to be an oppressive, shattering high. Small breaths escape you as it makes its way through your trembling body, battering you down to the bone.

And then you moan out his name, a soft, satisfied thing, your expression one of complete and utter bliss and that alone sends him over the edge.

He jerks himself quickly with more want than he wants to admit. Cecil’s hips follow his hands for a second. He grunts, thumbs his tip and cums. He groans, gripping the underside of his seat as he does, baring his teeth. His voice echoes through the room but he doesn’t care, not when you’re still faintly moaning his name as you fall from your heaven. His cum oozes out of him, squeezed out by his hand and seeps shamelessly onto the floor.

Yeah, he’ll clean that later.

“Fuck.”

His legs tremble. He looks at the mess in his hands and on the floor. Then back at you again.

You’re lying on your bed, out of breath, sweaty and content. Cecil wishes he was next to you, wishes he could wipe you down and clean you up, talk you through it and calm you over.

Maybe one day.

For now, he switches off the monitor. He stares at the black screen. Stares at himself

“Shit.” He curses, resting back into this chair. “I’m so fucked.”

*

a/n: i need him pregnant

[atsubie]

𝒯𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝖺𝗋𝖾

︵⃨⠀⃝🚬 ˖͢ 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍.  ━━╋━🥢‿˳.⋅ ି

[chimeralads]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY 1ST YEAR!!! (English)

Chapters - Stuff - My Characters - Love Interests - Official Alternative Universe's - Events

[supvoidchimera]

⋆⋆♡⋆⋆⋆♡⋆⋆⋆♡⋆ Memories ⋆♡⋆⋆⋆♡⋆⋆⋆♡⋆⋆

Myths: Shooting Stars

Precious Bonfire

Fluffy Trap

Fragment Of Time

Heartstring Symphony

Tender Night

Romantic Afternoon

Unique Aftertaste

Faint Sensation

Myth: Twilight's Dawn

21 Days

No Restraint

Floral Blessing

🎂 Celestial Message 🎂

Floof Attack

Silvery Polyphony

Misty Silhouette

Love Syndrome

Twofold Heartbeat

Sweetness Pursuit

Chapters - Stuff - My Characters - Love Interests - Official Alternative Universe's - Events

[yasministration]

fred weasley x malfoy!reader who’s the ‘sirius black’ of her family.

and everyone’s heard of the malfoys, of course they have; so it comes as a complete and utter shock when their eldest child, their only daughter, gets sorted into gryffindor. the entire great hall goes quiet, and even dumbledore himself is shocked upon hearing the hat’s decision. it was hard enough starting at a new school during your sixth year, but it was even harder watching her younger brother practically have a heart attack upon hearing the news. the only person who didn’t seem shocked, however, was fred. he knew from the moment that he bumped into her on the train that she was different. and to make matters even worse, she can’t help but fall in love with him. especially after they become fast friends, and he’s there for her through all the mistreatment she receives at the hands of her parents and brother over such a minuscule matter such as getting sorted into a different house.

there are worse things - fred weasley x malfoy!reader

summary: when your parents finally send you off to hogwarts, things don't go according to plan, because in less that twelve hours, you've been sorted into gryffindor and made friends with your housemates. And even worse: Weasleys wc: 1.6k+ a/n: okay i didn't know how to fit all my ideas into one fic bc i didnt want to have to write boring details, so i didn't. so i may or may not write a pt2 depending on how i'm feeling. yolo. also, haven't proof read it

“Would you look at that? Looks like Lucius Malfoy has finally released his daughter from his clutch of private tutors.”

Mr. Weasley’s words attracted the attention of every one of his children standing on the platform. His gaze however, was fixed on the Malfoy family, stood just far enough not to hear his comment.

The Weasley siblings spun around in unison, eyes widening at the sight of the Malfoy siblings standing with their parents. You ran both hands over your shoulders, nudging your hair to fall over the elegant slope of your back.

Gripping the side of your sunglasses, you raised them up to rest atop your head, scanning the entire platform around you as the lighting became high-key at the absence of the shaded frames. Humming attentively, you straightened the jewelled necklace around your neck before turning to face your younger brother.

“Shall we?” Draco nodded at your words, smiling at the concerned look on your father’s face. He had finally lost all hope for his daughter and just hoped that Hogwarts would do the work your tutors had never succeeded in doing.

You crouched slightly, picking up your trunk and strutted onto the train without one last look towards your parents.

“Hogwarts can barely take one Malfoy, but two?” You heard the comment behind you, accompanied by instant loud shushing. Spinning on your heels, you came face to face with three younger students, around Draco’s age. They all looked terrified at your stare, as though you were going to hex them. Behind them stood two handsome gingers. Twins.

Grinning widely, you scoffed in amusement. “Oh please, I could be the only student at Hogwarts and they wouldn’t be able to handle me. God knows my parents couldn’t.” An annoyed call of your name had you laughing. “You couldn’t wait until mum and dad were out of sight?”

“Am I known as someone how likes to wait?” Draco was rendered speechless, rolling his eyes. You stopped in front of the compartment Draco had stored your bags in. “I’m going to go look for Flint,” You told him, walking past your little group of fans. You stopped by the two tall twins, putting a hand on the closest one’s bicep, aiming your next words at him “Unless you’d like to keep me busy.”

Your laughs echoed down the hallway, and Harry almost decided he didn’t hate Draco as much. After all, he was your brother, and clearly he had a good relationship with you, who he instantly decided was one of the coolest people he had met.

Fred looked back to watch you go, noticing the undeniable Malfoy elegance you held in your footsteps. However, he could not forget the mischief in your eyes as you spoke to the three teenagers in front of him. More than the mischief though? The flirtatious gleam in your eyes when you had walked past him.

The twin didn’t get the chance to lay his eyes on you again until he got to the great hall for dinner. Stood next to McGonagall and all the first years, you definitely stood out, but it didn’t matter, because by that point everyone had heard that the original Malfoy sibling was coming to Hogwarts. Fred and everyone else in the great hall leaned closer as you strolled up to the old stool at the front of the stage, tucking your skirt underneath you as you sat down. It wasn’t even ten seconds until the hat surprised everyone, yelling out “GRYFFINDOR!”

It wouldn’t have been too bad if gasps filled the great hall, because at least you’d know that people were predominantly shock. But what you were met with was so much worse. The utter silence that filled the hall was suffocating.

Clearly, it wasn’t the outcome you were expecting either, because as Professor McGonagall lifted the hat off your head, your hand immediately shot up to grasp the hat’s brim. The older Professor was so surprised that she didn’t stop you from snatching the sorting hat and placing it on your head once more. “See, I think this is more proof that you’re a gryffindor.” It grumbled, eyes animatedly looking towards Professor McGonagall, begging to be taken away from you.

Fred looked over his shoulder to glance at your brother. Draco’s face was drained of all its colour and he held a hand over his chest, eyes wide with shock. That’s not was Draco was expecting. But for some reason, Fred was not shocked, and his hand immediately stuck out in a wave to call you over. After all, after that interaction on the train, how could you possibly be a slytherin?

“Fine.” You huffed, standing up and flicking your hair over your shoulder, beelining directly to the Gryffindor table. You were thankful that the two ginger twins you had seen before waved you over, otherwise you feared you’d have stood around awkwardly.

“Thank you.” You smiled, trying to shoo the shock and disappointment off your face. Finally, you glanced up to find Draco’s eyes in the crowd, and he offered you a weak smile, eyes apologetic. Your parents would not be happy about it. “So I’ve just let down my entire blood line, how have your days been?” It seemed those words were enough to get the twins and their friends Lee and Angelina to warm up to you.

You quickly learned that Angelina was George’s girlfriend, and when your eyes went wide in panic, George was quick to reassure you that he wasn’t the one you flirted with on the train.

But the nightmare didn’t end there.

In fact, by then it hadn’t really started. It really began when you were having breakfast the next morning, grateful that Angelina was your dorm mate and you got along so well — a discovery you’d made whilst staying up all night and chatting in bed. But then, the second you’d spotted a red envelope amidst the letters being flown into the great hall, you knew it addressed to you.

You stood up immediately, attracting the eyes of Angelina and Lee as the letter dropped into your plate. “Who wants to come see how far I can run until this thing bursts?” Lee shot you an apologetic cringe and you gave him a bored look.

“Okay, you bores. I guess I’ll do it alone.” You grasped the edge of the red envelope, holding it from the tip of your fingers as though it would burn you. Spinning around, you came face to face with Fred and George.

“Where are we going?” Fred asked, immediately following you out of the great hall, abandoning the idea of having breakfast. He sped his pace up to match yours until you were breaking into a run, giggling as Fred called after you, asking “Wait, where are we going?”

“I don’t know!” Fred scoffed in amusement, but he blindly followed you further into the castle until you suddenly gasped, stumbling backwards towards him.

Oh.

Now he understood.

The red envelope sprung up into the air, forming an angry face as it spat out the following words. “In all the centuries the Malfoys have walked the earth, every single one of them has been a slytherin. Until you.” Lucius Malfoy’s voice boomed in the hallway, and you were grateful that it was empty, other than you and Fred.

“Your mother fought hard for us to send you to hogwarts, and you’ve already disgraced us within your first hour there! Fix your behaviour, act like we’ve raised you, otherwise we’re bringing you back home to an unpleasant surprise!”

Fred was befuddled. Never had he thought parents could speak to their children that way. Sure, he knew the Malfoys were cruel, but that was another level.

A laugh took him by surprise. Fred glanced over to you, meeting your amused gaze. “Not the worst thing he’s said to me. Would be scarier if I could see his face.” “Is that not-? Are you okay?” You shrugged your shoulders with a small grin as you approached him, hooking your arm through his and beginning your trek back to the great hall. “Yeah, I’ll probably cry about it in a couple of hours when it hits me.”

“Come find me when that happens.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you shot him a look from the corner of your eyes. “Why would I do that?”

“You know, for comfort? A hug if you need one? No one deserves to feel like shit on their own.”

“Oh, okay then.” Fred shot you a look, feeling bad because of the shocked look on your face. You cleared your throat, feeling his eyes on you. “You haven’t had breakfast yet, come on.”

As you settled back down at your spot on the long table, your three other friends shot you questioning looks. Fred decided he would be the one to speak as you stirred yourself a cup of tea. “Yeah, if I were the one to get that howler I would have thrown up on the spot, but she perseveres.”

You scoffed into the rim of your mug, nudging Fred’s side. You took a long sip of tea, missing the dark flush that overtook his features. From in front of him, George shot him brother a pointed look, quickly looking away when your gaze flitted up again.

You urged yourself not to look back at the older twin, but you couldn’t help yourself from staring as he shot a question at you, something quidditch related. “Huh?” “Do you play? You know, ‘cause Draco plays and stuff?” You rolled your eyes “No. Where they encouraged Draco to take up quidditch, they put me in ballet. Typical, right?”

Immediately turning away, you found Draco across the hall again. If you weren’t in trouble already for being a gryffindor, you would certainly get in trouble for the group of friends you’d made. Even worse, the boy you were beginning to catch feelings for.

Well, you huffed, there are worse things than a Malfoy and a Weasley. Right?

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @juliet-017, @boromoony, @fl0weryannie, @tiaajosephin, @dream-alittlebiggerdarling, @dearlizzies, @potterheadlovespotter

[aurorasdaybreak]

touch me, tease me, feel me up ! ⏔♡⏔ zayne li + sylus che (m)

summary: you wanted their voice and got a lot more than you bargained for - or, phone sex with zayne and sylus. at the same time. :) info: zayne x afab!reader x sylus | smut | 1.8k words warnings: smut smut smut, dom!sylus, dom!zayne, sylus is a pleasure dom and zayne's a brat tamer but we've known this, sub!afab!reader, phone sex, dirty talk, clit play, nipple play, g-spot stimulation, f!receiving!orgasm, uh oh cliffhanger :D author's note: the zayne fic is currently *checks notes* at 12k words and nowhere near done (:-;) for now pls take this LOL :') this comes after finding a tweet asking who's names sound...ahem better when being moaned out loud. i hope you enjoy :D disclaimer: not beta read, will edit soon for any mistakes!! if you are a minor and you're seeing this, i ask that you turn away and do not read. this is an 18+ story and minors are not welcome. if you are uncomfortable with any of the topics listed in the warning, please do not read this story! header found on pinterest, pls lemme know if you know the tags for credit! ⏔♡⏔ songs include love talk by wayv and bed chem by sabrina carpenter

You shouldn’t be doing this right now, but holy fuck does it feel good. 

Your dominant hand is busy underneath the covers, fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit as you muffle your gasps with your other hand. Sweat makes your bare skin glisten in the dim light of your bedroom, and you moan softly when you reach down to rub your nipple in between your fingertips.

Usually, you’d have the attention of two lovers to make you go insane - but with one of them attending to business in the N109 Zone and the other hosting a cardiac lecture in Chansia City…well, it’s no wonder you’re doing what you’re doing right now.

Just the thought of them has you clenching, whining pathetically when you feel just how empty you are. You normally would be so good for the both of them, following their strict rule of not touching yourself while they were gone but you couldn’t not.

It’s not like they’d know, anyways.

The thought spurns you on and you finally allow yourself to slip a finger into your pussy, moaning when you feel the slight burn from the stretch. It’s nothing compared to them, but you would make do with just about anything at this point. You angle your wrist hoping to get the right angle, and you’re rewarded with electricity racing down your back when you feel the pad of your finger barely brush along your spongy g-spot.

“H-holy shit-” you gasp to yourself as you renew your efforts, hastily shoving another finger so that you can compensate for your smaller fingers. The miniscule stretch has you bucking your hips, imagining you riding a certain someone’s cock. It’s almost enough to get you to the edge you crave, you’re almost there-

-until the ringing of your phone stops you, eyes flying open.

You pull your fingers from your cunt, shaking slightly when you feel a gush of wetness leave your hole as you clench from the sudden emptiness but you don’t think, you simply swipe on the caller notification and answer.

“Hello?”

“Princess,” comes his easy voice - a voice that reinforces your want for him and has you squirming on your sheets.

“Zayne!” you reply, noting with slight panic at how breathy you sound. You clear your throat before speaking once again. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you can hear the slight softness coloring in his voice, and you smile to yourself at that. “I just wanted to give you a call-”

“Don’t forget about me, darling.”

You gasp when you hear Sylus’s dulcet tone by Zayne’s voice. Knowing that your two men were there together has your stomach doing a little flip of excitement, and against your better judgement your fingers begin to creep down to your weeping pussy once again.

“Sylus!” You say, and you bite your lip harshly when you feel the tip of your finger graze along your clit. “What are you two doing together?”

“My business at the N109 Zone wrapped up so I stopped by Dawnlight City to pick something up.” comes his smooth response, and you allow yourself to settle back into your blankets and rub your clit as you hear him drone on about business.

“T-that’s good-” your voice cuts off as your mouth falls open in a silent moan, but you quickly disguise it as a cough so that they don’t catch on.

But you should know that they’ll always know your every little move.

“____?”

Zayne’s voice holds a sharp edge and it has you whining under your breath. Alarm bells ring in your mind at his tone and the fact he used your name - not his sweet pet name of princess. All of these things signal trouble for you in the end but you can’t find it in yourself to care at all.

Sylus laughs at your whimpering, and you can practically see the way he elbows Zayne at his side. “Pretty little darling’s busy touching herself.”

“I can hear that.” Zayne’s laugh is humorless and you clench in response, moaning when you run the tip of your finger around your weeping hole. “You must feel so good, right princess?”

In the back of your lust-addled mind is a voice, screaming at you to be afraid and to stop. They’re never this nice to you when it comes to touching yourself, insistent on being the ones to give you pleasure. And the fact that you’ve broken their single rule?

You should be very, very afraid.

But your need wins out, and you let yourself slip two digits back into your sopping cunt.

“F-fuck-!” Your fingers begin to speed up and you hastily place your phone on your stomach so that you can reach up and pinch at your nipple. The added stimulation has your back arching, head beginning to toss back and forth on your pillow at the sheer pleasure you’re wreaking on your own body.

“Fuck…” Sylus’s voice is a rumble, and Zayne’s accompanying groan has you growing dizzy.

“Don’t stop, sweet girl.” Zayne’s directing you with a strained rumble, sliding into his usual spot in the bedroom. “Tell us what you’re doing right now to your beautiful body.”

“I’m-hah- I’m touching myself-” you begin with a gasp, but Sylus is quick to cut you off.

“We know, darling. We want details.”

His voice is lethal and it has you whimpering as you begin to speed up your movements. Your brain turns off and it’s only your mouth whispering every dirty thing you’re doing yourself to your lovers who are too far away to do anything.

“I’m trying to fill myself with my fingers while pinching my nipples.” Your voice holds its unmistakable pout, and Zayne chuckles at your neediness.

“How many fingers?”

“T-two-!” You cry out when your fingers barely graze your sweet spot, and you feel your walls pulse dangerously. You’re so close yet so far - never able to get off with your fingers.

No, you need them.

“Two?” Sylus’s hum is amused, and you know they’re about to put you through the ringer with that. “We’ve trained you to take more, haven't we? Another one in, darling.”

“Yes Sy-”

“Yes sir, princess, or we stop.” Zayne’s quick to remind you of his presence with a harsh cut in the conversation, and you can practically feel the slap on your cunt that accompanies his reminders to follow their rules.

“Yes, sir- yes!” You gasp as you stretch your third finger in, feeling even fuller than with the two fingers you were using. Your hips begin to cant up and down, your body trying to speed up your movements so that you can meet your end.

“That cunt’s probably soaked,” Sylus muses, amusement ever present in his voice. “Our pretty little lady’s always desperate for us, huh?”

“You know she always is,” Zayne laughs in response, and a sick thrill shoots up your spine at how they refer to you as nothing more than something that pleases them. You’ll always be willing to be their pretty little plaything if it means you end up in situations and nights like this.

“I want-” you begin, but you gasp when your fingers brush against the spongy mess of your g-spot. You moan as you renew your efforts, rewarding yourself with your fingers pressing against the sensitive skin as you rub your clit like no tomorrow.

“Want what, pretty?” Sylus asks, velvet enveloping his voice. “You have to use your words like the big, fearless Hunter you are.”

“Your- oh,” your mouth falls open at your movements, and you cry out softly as you begin to near your end.

“Tell us or I’m telling you to stop, ____.” Zayne’s voice is harsh, and you’re quick to spill out your most wanton desires to them so that you don’t have to stop.

“Your cocks!” You cry out, whining as you continue to abuse your g-spot. “W-want your cocks s-stretching me out- holy fuck-”

“Good girl,” Sylus whispers, and you can practically see the pinched line of his brow as he fights to make sure the pleasure doesn’t cloud his judgement and commanding presence. “Why don’t you bring your phone to that needy little cunt and have us hear how much you want our dicks?”

“Yes yes yes yes,” you chant, and without a second thought you pick up your phone and bring it to your weeping cunt. You purposefully slow your movements so that they can hear the slick, sinful sounds your pussy makes as you push your fingers in and out, a loud cry escaping your lips when you crook your fingers so that the tips of your nails continuously stimulate your g-spot.

“Oh fuck, princess,” you hear Zayne groan. “You sound so pretty.”

“All for you,” you gasp, fingers beginning to speed up again. You just want to cum so fucking bad. “I- fucking shit-it’s all for you-”

“It better be,” Sylus murmurs softly. The tone in his voice has alarms ringing in the back of your brain - just what does he have up his sleeve? “Fuck yourself harder, pretty. We want you to feel good.”

“Yes- Zayne!” You cry out, your moans filling the air as you feel yourself nearing the end. You drop your phone to the side and return your hand to your clit, pinching and rubbing and doing everything you can to bring yourself to your end.

“Don’t forget about me, angel,” Sylus laughs, darkness coating his honey sweet words. “You wouldn’t want me to punish you, right?”

“Fuck- ngh- Sylus!” You’re nearly crying at this point, letting your imagination run wild and replacing your measly fingers with their thick cocks and callused fingers. You plant your feet on your bed and buck your hips, your walls swallowing your fingers deeper as you begin to near your end.

“Yes, ____,” comes Zayne’s sinfully sweet voice, and if you imagine hard enough it almost sounds and feels like they’re in the room with you. “Cum for us, will you?”

Their permission is all you need, and you wail out a strangled cry as your walls pulse rhythmically around your fingers. Your fingers curl at the right moment and you squeal when you feel liquid burst from your hole, your hand strumming on your clit and prolonging the intense orgasm washing over your entire body and being.

“Fuck…you look so angelic,” Sylus groans, and you barely register his words as you let yourself slowly float down from your incredible high.

Without opening your eyes you reach for your phone and giggle, a satiated smile spreading across your face. “Thank you, you two,” you hum tiredly. “I’m sleepy now.”

“You might wanna hold off on sleep, ____.” Comes Zayne’s voice, and a sense of unease mixes with the heady pleasure still coursing through your veins. “Why don’t you sit up and open your eyes for us?”

You’re slow to do it, but you push yourself up with shaky hands and slowly open your eyes - but the sight that greets you has anticipation and dread for what’s to come shooting up your spine.

“Hi, princess.” Zayne says on the phone as he grins, Sylus leaning on the doorframe with casual ease at the sight of you still shaking from your orgasm and the realization that they’re actually here.

Oh…you’re absolutely fucked now.

a/n #2: pls leave a thought in my ask box if you're willing :')) i hope you enjoyed!! <3

[rosiquita]

⠀ ⠀⠀𓂂 ❤︎ ◯⠀𓂂⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀fire⠀⠀⠀⠀aura

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