#i came home from work half asleep

[rriavian]

I've finally redrafted the mess that was Courting the King, so unless something goes horrifically wrong during my reread tomorrow it's ready for one final intense edit.

Then I can post some other fics, can finish the last couple of thousand words of Deliverance, enjoy some more ask games, and hopefully not get stuck on an almost finished fic for half a year again. Honestly it's been almost done for long enough that I'd really planned to post back in March. So if I come on tumblr tomorrow and it's just incoherent screeching, erm, well—take it as a sign I'm probably writing more self indulgent cat!Dream to cheer myself up.

(Who am I kidding—I'll be writing self indulgent cat!Dream anyway)

[television-overload]

The Most Popular Man in D.C.

(X-Files Fanfic)

[read on AO3]

-.-.-

In the months after Scully is returned from her abduction, Mulder starts getting catcalled on the street on an almost daily basis. At first, he doesn't think much of it, but after a few weeks, he finds it odd enough to mention to her.

She walks into the basement to find him putting pins in a map of D.C., hunched over his desk in concentration.

"Mulder?" she asks with an amused look on her face, paused in the doorway with her eyebrow arched.

With a brief glance up at her, he asks, "Scully, do you think I'm attractive?" Her hand almost slips off the door handle.

Her mouth falls open to answer, but she has no clue what words might come out. What is it he's wanting her to say? He doesn't look like he's joking. In fact, he looks deadly serious.

"I–"

"I just mean, if you saw me on the street, would you—you know—whistle at me?"

His question startles a chuckle from her throat, loosening her tongue. "Whistle?" She stares at him incredulously. Where is this coming from?

"Yeah," he says. "Whistle, wave, shower me with unsolicited compliments?"

Normally, she might laugh, assuming this to be one of the goofy bits he does when he's in a good mood, but something genuinely seems to be concerning him.

"Why do you ask?" she says, brows furrowing as she enters the room fully, shutting the door behind her.

He puts another pin on the map, near the grocery store she knows he goes to near his apartment in Alexandria.

"Scully, in the last month or so, I've been catcalled by random women nearly every day, all over D.C." he begins. "On my run, at the gym, even once when I went to pick up more fish food at the pet store. All over."

"Catcalled, Mulder?" she asks.

"Yes!"

"Is that so unusual?"

His brows slant in clear concern. He needs her reassurance.

"Look, you're a... not wholly unattractive guy," she starts cautiously. "And these places—the gym, the park where you run... You'd be covered in sweat, wearing that— that sleeveless Knicks shirt you have..." She trails off, blushing profusely and hoping her hair conceals it.

"But, the PET store, Scully," he insists, thankfully too worked up to notice her pink cheeks. He gestures wildly at the map before him. "All of these pins are places where I remember it happening. All in the last month."

Oh boy. "Putting that eidetic memory to good use, I see," she says. She surveys his slightly manic appearance, gauging how worried she needs to be about his state of mind.

"There's a clear concentration in certain areas," he says, ignoring her comment. "Look: about four blocks from my apartment, see? There's a cluster of them, all near this corner."

She looks where he is pointing, and indeed, there are six pins huddled close to each other while others are more spread out.

"Do you have a theory?" she can't believe she asks.

"I was hoping you would," he says, a little defeated.

Well, if she's not about to be dragged into a wild goose chase investigation based on some theory he's concocted, then she's back to finding this entire situation hilarious again. "Why should I have a theory?" she asks, suppressing a smile as she crosses her arms and looks up at him.

"I don't know," he says, shrugging awkwardly. "You're a... a woman."

She rolls her eyes. "Thank you for noticing."

"No, but maybe you have some insight. A different perspective."

"Some kind of womanly intuition?" she asks doubtfully, challengingly.

"Well, yeah."

She purses her lips. She has no immediate answer for him, so the office falls silent. He slumps back into his chair, looking far more bedraggled than he ought to at just past 8:00 am.

No, Mulder, she doesn't have some insider secret about the female mind to explain this so-called phenomenon away, but... Man, that is a lot of pins on the map. All in the last month, he says?

Why are her toes tapping incessantly on the floor beneath the desk?

"Mulder," she starts, hardly believing the words that are about to come out of her mouth. "If you're that worried about it, maybe we should go check out some of these areas of concentration."

He looks up at her, just as surprised to hear the suggestion come from her lips.

"Really?"

She wants to roll her eyes again, but there's a knot of something she refuses to acknowledge as jealousy in her chest that prevents her from doing so.

"Only if you're that concerned," she says, hoping she sounds firm and not at all interested in why her partner is getting hit on by women left and right.

He fumbles his way to his feet, stabbing himself in the palm with a pin accidentally in the process. He curses under his breath and shakes his hand out while eagerly shoving his arm in his jacket sleeve. "Okay," he says. "I think we should start by my gym, that's where it happens the most."

"Fine," she agrees stiffly, trying not to picture him breathless after a workout and surrounded by his loving admirers.

She drives, because she needs something to do with her hands. He navigates. It's his steps they're retracing, after all. He knows best what direction they need to head in.

They park on the street, exiting the car and getting a feel of their surroundings.

"There's my gym," he points out. She's not exactly sure what they're looking for, but she keeps her eyes peeled all the same.

After a few minutes spent wandering near the entrance, she's about to call it quits, but then a muscular little brunette calls out from across the street, grinning from ear to ear as she shouts, "Woo! I'd pay your dry cleaning bill just to watch you work out in that suit, handsome!"

Before either of them has time to respond, or even come to terms with what just happened, the woman disappears into a storefront. A yoga studio, Scully deduces from the sign out front.

"See?" Mulder says, swinging his hand out toward the other side of the street. The suddenness of his speech startles her out of her tense posture, and she forces her shoulders to relax.

"I give her points for creativity," she says, marching primly back to the car and throwing the driver's side door open.

The next place they drive is the grocery store, just a stone's throw away from his apartment building. Once again, she parks, and they wander about, but this time, their fellow pedestrians are blissfully silent. She looks around. There's the grocery store. Beside it, a pawn shop. On the other side, a place selling herbal supplements... and possibly also other "herbal" remedies. RadioShack across the street. Not much going on at—she checks her watch—8:47 am.

"Notice anything unusual?" she asks, watching as an older couple hobbles into the grocery store arm-in-arm.

His shoulders lift in a shrug. "It's quieter than usual," he says. "I'm not usually here this early on a week day."

She nods. This stop might have been a bust, but at least she didn't have to hear another cheesy one-liner directed at Mulder.

They're not so lucky at the next, and—she decides—final stop.

About a block down from the coffee shop in Georgetown that he frequents when he has to wake her at an ungodly hour, two women loiter outside a shop advertising high-quality tattoos and piercings. One takes a drag from her cigarette, then calls out, "Let's see a smile on those pouty lips!" The other woman chuckles, puffing out a cloud of smoke.

Mulder gives an awkward smile and nod in their direction, and Scully promptly grabs him by the arm, ushering him hurriedly back to the car.

She stews in silence on the drive back to the Hoover building. She knows she has no right to do so, and yet...

"You see what I mean, Scully?" he asks. "You gotta agree that something's unusual."

Does she? He's an attractive man. YES, okay, she's attracted to him. Can she fault other women for noticing? Maybe they could do to keep their mouths shut and leave him alone, sure, but wouldn't most men kill to have that kind of attention given to them?

"I don't know," she answers, her hands gripping the wheel.

"I'm serious. I've lived here for years, and this has never happened before. Then all of a sudden..."

"You're reading too much into it," she snaps. Then, softening her tone, "I mean, if they won't leave you alone, tell them to back off. Tell them you're an FBI agent and can arrest them for harrassment."

"Scully..."

"It's not an X-File, Mulder," she says decisively. "We've missed enough work as it is. Just forget about it."

His jaw shifts like he's about to argue her point, but instead he says the words she's always longed to hear from him.

"You're probably right."

-.-.-

She tries to forget about it.

On Thursday, he cheekily informs her that he had been called a "handsome devil" that morning while stopping by the bank. Friday, the descriptive term is decidedly less work-friendly, but he saunters in looking quite pleased with himself.

Gee, she sure is glad she told him not to worry about all the attention he's getting. Now, he actually seems to be enjoying it.

The weekend can't come soon enough. At 5:00 on the dot, she bids goodbye to his boyish smile and wishes him a good weekend. At home, she finishes off half a bottle of wine and watches some trashy reality TV until it's bedtime, and she promptly passes out.

-.-.-

Saturday, she wakes up feeling stupid. After popping a few advil, she deep cleans her kitchen, tossing out the now empty bottle of wine and even dusting on top of her cabinets, a task that requires standing precariously on the countertop with a featherduster in hand.

As the clock ticks closer to noon, though, she begrudgingly pulls herself away from her work and readies herself for her afternoon commitment with her sister. On the way to Melissa's dumpy—temporary—apartment, she picks up lunch from her favorite Chinese place. It's been months since Melissa came to town. She's not the kind to stay put in one place for long. If Scully hadn't been abducted, or whatever it was that happened to her, Missy wouldn't have been there in the first place.

The apartment is one she'd found on short notice when she heard what had happened, and came to support their mother throughout the ordeal. It pays by the month, and has a serious ant problem in the kitchen, but otherwise isn't the absolute worst living situation Scully could fathom. She liked having her sister nearby, even if it was only for a while.

Now, the ceaseless call of adventure summons Melissa once more, and it is time to go. Scully had promised to help her pack her things this weekend, and now the day is here.

"You sure you don't want to stay?" she asks, loathing how the sentence makes her sound like her 15 year old self when Missy had first left home for her first (and only) year of college.

"You don't need me, Dana," her sister says. "Besides, you know I can only handle so much of Mom telling me what I should be doing with my life."

"She means well," Scully assures her.

"I know she does," Missy says with a smile. "And I know you're no stranger to doing the complete opposite of what she tells you, too."

Scully breathes out a laugh.

"Come on, help me take these boxes down to the moving truck." Melissa shucks her jacket off, tying it around her waist in preparation for the physical labor it would take to carry multiple loads of boxes down four flights of stairs. One of the worst features of this apartment building is it's permanently broken elevator. Moving in must have been a nightmare.

Bending to pick up her first box, Scully catches a glimpse of something on Missy's right wrist, visible now that her jacket has come off.

"What's that?" she asks, brows furrowing.

"Hmm?" her sister asks. Her eyes follow Dana's to the marking on her skin on the underside of her arm. "Oh, I got that while you were in the hospital. You're like 90% of my impulse control, Dana."

Her teasing tone does not negate the heaviness that comes from mentioning that horrific time for her family. That time when she was all but lost to all those who knew her.

"What is it?" she asks.

Missy sets her box back down, and Scully does the same. "Check it out," she says, drawing closer so Scully can see.

On her wrist is a small cross tattoo, remarkably similar in shape and size to the cross Scully wears around her neck.

Strange. She's fairly certain Melissa hasn't been to mass in years, much to their mother's chagrin.

"Why?" she asks, genuine confusion lacing her voice.

"Don't go all 'Mom' on me, Dane," Missy jokes, smacking her in the shoulder. "It's just a tattoo."

Scully shakes her head. "No, I mean, why that? Why a cross?"

"Oh." Melissa looks down at her wrist in thought, then back up at Dana. "It just... seemed to be the thing to do."

"Something to remember me by?" Scully tries to joke, though she's aware of how morbid that sounds, to live to see the way her sister planned to memorialize her.

"Actually, no," Melissa corrects. "It was your partner."

Huh?

"Mulder?" Scully asks, wondering how on earth her necklace—the symbol of Christianity—relates to her unbelieving partner.

"Yeah, it was— Look, it's not really my place to tell, but I saw the way he relied on that necklace of yours for strength while you were gone. Not once did I see him take it off. It was like, if he didn't let go of it, then he wasn't letting go of you. I admire that."

Scully still doesn't understand. "So, the tattoo..."

"Is a reminder to have hope," Melissa finishes. "To have that same belief in others that Fox had for you, even when things looked hopeless and we almost gave up."

Scully's heart twists painfully.

This marking on her sister's body is tangible proof of what Scully has known all along:

That her partner is something special. That his uncommon belief in the unbelievable leaves an impact, not just on her, but on others whom he interacts with.

She still finds it hard to fathom that there had been weeks and months where Mulder was out there, spending time with her mother and sister while she was missing, or lying comatose on a hospital bed.

"When you came back, and when you got better, I knew it was him that saved you," Missy says softly, as if she can hear her thoughts and doesn't want to disrupt them. "I know it's him."

Her sister's piercing eyes meet hers seriously, and she turns away, lifting the box back into her arms to serve as a distraction.

"We don't want to keep the movers waiting," she says, forcing her thoughts away from Mulder. Away from the dangerous thoughts that had filled her head all week.

Missy's eyes brighten, and she grins.

"Don't keep him waiting," she warns.

-.-.-

Scully hands her sister the last of the boxes, and Missy stands up in the back of the truck, brushing the dust off her hands with a satisfied sigh.

"That's the last of it," she says proudly. "Oh, wait—"

She turns quickly, rummaging through a few boxes before triumphantly extracting a small piece of paper.

"Here, give that back to Fox, will you?" she says, handing it to Scully.

"What's this?" she asks, turning the glossy paper in hand to look at it properly.

In her hand, she holds a photo of Mulder from one of the times he'd been locked up on trespassing charges that ultimately wouldn't hold. He'd gotten a kick out of getting his mugshot taken, and so had requested a copy of it upon his release, and the small sheriff's department in Idaho had granted his wish.

But why did Melissa have it?

"I stole it from his apartment," she says, answering her unspoken question. "Made some copies, spread them around."

"You— you did what with them?"

"Just gave them to some friends," she says, smirking as she plops down on the edge of the truck bed. "You know I make friends wherever I go."

"Yeah, but why?"

The conspiratorial smile on her sister's face comes straight out of their childhood.

"Has Fox been getting an unusual amount of attention when walking around D.C. lately?" she asks nonchalantly, concealing a wider grin.

"Missy, you didn't!" Scully says, her jaw dropping.

"You didn't see him, Dane! He needed a pick-me-up!" Melissa raises her hands in defense, smiling at her sister's reaction.

Scully scoffs, but only to prevent a burst of astonished laughter from escaping. "A pick-me-up, not someone to pick him up," she says in as chastising a voice as she can manage.

Only Melissa would do something like this. She should have known.

"So it did work after all," Missy surmises. "Good. He needed a confidence boost. Has his ego inflated terribly?"

This time, Scully does laugh. "Sure, maybe after he got over the paranoia of suddenly being the most popular man in Washington, D.C."

"I guess it would come as a shock," Missy says, eyes bright with mirth.

Scully smacks her sister in the arm. "He was convinced it was some kind of conspiracy!"

"Oh, well," Missy says. "The real conspiracy is how you won't hit on that man yourself."

She's going to miss her sister, she reminds herself. Just be glad she's been in town this long.

Nope. She still wants to throttle her.

She shakes her head.

"Melissa..."

-.-.-

The compliments—because Scully refuses to call them catcalls—continue for the next few months, though with decreasing frequency.

After thinking it over for the weekend, she decides not to tell him. Maybe some day, years from now, when they can laugh about it.

For now, she lets other women say her thoughts aloud, and delights in the way his cheeks turn rosy when she's with him to hear their cheesy pick-up lines.

She wonders how she didn't notice before, the way these women look just like people Melissa would hang around with. Choker necklaces around their necks, Doc Martin shoes... Mulder was onto something with his map. The gym: across the street from a yoga studio that Missy had gone to a few times. The herbal supplement place, one that Missy had definitely stopped by on occasion. The tattoo parlor. Self-explanatory.

Now that she's in on the secret, whenever it happens, it's like Missy is there for a second. It makes her feel less far away. She thinks of these women being handed a photocopied flyer with Mulder's face on it, and wonders what on earth Missy had specifically told them to do.

Whatever it was, it had been effective.

Funny. She never really pictured introducing her sister to her partner, but now she wonders how she didn't see it before. She's glad Missy stepped in to look after him while she was gone, even if it involved a prank of questionable taste. She wouldn't have expected any less from her sister. And maybe that was just what Mulder needed.

She tells him at the funeral.

It's too early to find the humor in it, like she'd hoped they would someday. But his lips do curl into a small smile. Remembering.

It still happens on occasion after that. And when it does, Mulder takes Scully's hand and whispers, "See? She's never really gone."

Melissa Scully had left her mark on Washington, D.C., even in the short time she'd been there. She left her mark on Mulder in the same way.

Years down the line, when the number of Mulder's admirers has dwindled to one, Scully lies awake, picturing his face as he whispered sweet words to her. His constant. His touchstone.

"You were right, Missy," she breathes into the still air of her lonely apartment. Sometimes it feels haunted by her ghost. Tonight, that brings her comfort. "You were right."

She thinks she hears the echo of a sultry whistle.

-.-.-

Tagging: @today-in-fic @agent-troi @baronessblixen @captainsolocide @cutemothman @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @teenie-xf

[writerfae]

Actually some of us don’t have the time or energy to write thousands (or hundreds or whatever) of words a day and that’s okay and that’s fine. Don’t beat yourself up about it. There will be better times. Save your energy for those instead of beating yourself up about not writing recently. In your heart you’re still a writer.

[antiwhores]

You accidentally had sex with Bakugou.

You two had fallen asleep in his room after a hang out. You were bestfriends but you had some underlining feelings for him. So when you woke up in the middle of the night to him cuddling you, you almost choked.

You needed to pee really bad so sadly you had to pry yourself out of his arms. When you came back his eyes were cracked open just barely. He mumbled something before opening his arms for you to join him again.

It was out of character, maybe tired Bakugou was just a touchy guy. It couldn’t be more than that.

So you joined him on the bed. You buried your face into his neck. You had to savor this cause most likely this’ll be the last time this happens. Also, you were too tired to freak out. You just wanted to fall asleep in his arms.

You can barely explain what happened after that. He hiked your leg onto him, still with his half open eyes, and thrusted right against your clothed pussy.

The next thing you know, he’s dry humping you. And then he’s fingering you. And finally he’s fucking you.

It felt good, too good.

But the morning after? You felt embarrassed. No way you just fucked him without even a first date. He’s gonna think you’re easy. He might even tell everyone that you are.

Of course, that would never happen but you were panicked. You couldn’t possibly comprehend that the great Dynamight chose you. You weren’t famous. Not a vogue model, a hero, or even wealthy. You had nothing to give him.

He had to be messing with you.

So you slipped out of his hold at 5am sharp and went home.

You fell back to sleep in tears and woke up to several texts and calls. Good thing you had your ringer off.

Bakugou - 6:34am

Where’d you go?

I was gonna make you breakfast dumbass

Bakugou - 6:52

Y/n?

Missed call - 7:00am

Bakugou - 7:30

Is this about last night?

I’ll wait for that call back so we can talk about it.

Missed call - 10:03am

Bakugou - 10:05

Call me and we can talk about it. This ignoring me isn’t gonna make it go away.

Missed call - 11:12

Missed call - 11:26

Missed call - 11-31

Bakugou - 11:40

Fucking call me back, this shit isn’t funny.

You’re so lucky I don’t know where you live yet. I’d be there in 15 minutes if I knew.

You debated calling him back. But your embarrassment and anger stopped you from letting him explain himself. How could he use your feelings against you like that! He probably knew that you liked him and wanted a quick fuck.

You started to cry all over again.

A week passed by with no contact. He sent you the occasional text telling you to talk to him but after the 6th day he seemed to give up. At least you thought that until he showed up at your door.

You opened the door wide without checking who it was since you were expecting a package. Your eyes widened when you noticed the blonde leaning against the doorframe, still in his hero costume. He must’ve just gotten off work, saving civilians and climbing the charts. It was another reminder of how he could never want you.

“You gonna let me in or am I-“

You tried to slam the door in his face but he shoved it back open easily. He let himself in, scanning the place.

“Nice place, ‘don’t see why you hadn’t invited me over.”

Maybe it’s because your small, cosy apartment didn’t compare to his high rise penthouse at the top floor.

You grabbed his arm and tried to pull him out. But he wasn’t having it and didn’t let you move him an inch.

“You need to leave, Bakugou.”

“Wow. Last name basis and I was inside you a week ago.”

“Yeah well that shouldn’t have happened.”

“Okay but it did so let’s fuckin’ talk about it.”

You just wanted him to leave before you bursted out in tears. You shook your head, trying to pull him harder but to no avail. Your lip quivered in frustration as tears welled up in your eyes.

Suddenly, he threw you over his shoulder and set you on the couch.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

You broke down in tears.

You told him everything, every assumption you made and every insecurity. You told him how you liked him but you knew he didn’t like you back. He sat there patiently, not speaking a word until you were done.

He got up with a blank face. You thought he was gonna leave at first but he kneeled down to be eye to eye with you.

“Wanna go on a date?”

It surprised you. It was the last thing he expected you to say.

“I’ll take you on a date and prove to you how much I want you. And for the record, I’ve probably liked you longer than you have me. When we met in that coffee shop I immediately knew you were the one I wanted. ‘S rude of you of you to make assumptions but I’ll let it pass if you go on a date with me.”

You agreed as he wiped off your tears. Who were you to say no?

[kbwrites]

Husband! Nanami

synopsis: your husband comes home for another long and arduous day. He only wishes to stay with you forever.

⚝tags: husband!nanami, reader is a housewife, nsfw, nanami loves eating his wife out

⚝wc: 1.6k

Husband Nanami! Drags his feet, trudging wearily to the entrance of his shared home. Each step heavier than the last. Work has been increasingly stressful, each day more demanding than the last. Today was no different. He brings a tired hand up to the doorknob, turning it slowly. The soft yellow light of the foyer illuminates his face, the scent of his safe space hitting his nostrils.

“Kento?” There it was, the most melodious symphony he’d ever heard. Rounding the corner it was you, his loving wife. In that moment it seems as though all the stress from the day melts away, a small smile graces his lips and his tired eyes close briefly.

“Hello dear.”

Kento wasn’t exactly sure when he fell in love with you, just that at some point he stopped being able to imagine what life would be like without your presence. You became his peace, a ray of sunshine that cut through the darkness in his life. He never believed in karma or fate, but sometimes he’d wonder what he had done in his life to be deserving of your love.

He slips out of his shoes, heavy footsteps and drooping shoulders trudge toward you. He wrapped his strong arms around you, enveloping you in a warm embrace. Kento bends down slightly, burying his head into your hair allowing your scent to permeate his senses. You always smelled so good… A low hum of content emanates from his throat, almost like a cat purring. His arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly close.

“How was your day?” He mumbles into your skin.

“My day was good.” You reply quietly. “What about you?”

“Long. Tiring..” He says with a sigh, pulling away slightly so he can have a better look at his sunshine. His hand reaches to cup your face, thumb making small circles on your cheek. You look at your husband, honey-colored eyes half-lidded, dark circles occupying his face. It was taking everything in him to stand right now.

“Are you hungry?” You muse, nuzzling your face into his hand. He only nods, still looking at you with tired eyes. Taking the hand that held your face you lead him to the dining room. The smell of food wafts through the room, a plate of steak and mashed potatoes, still hot. He takes a seat at the table, eyes lighting up at the dish.

“Thank you, my love.” He says before taking a bite, his eyes closing in satisfaction as the savory taste hits his tongue. He loved your cooking, it was like a balm to his weary soul. He continues eating in silence, looking up at you. You rest your chin in your hands, smiling at your husband.

“You’re not eating?” He says after swallowing.

“I ate before you came home.” A pang of guilt washes over him, Kento knows you probably waited as long as you could hoping you could hold out and wait to eat with him. With all the long hours he’s been putting in, he's barely had time for the one thing that made his life worth living

“I’m sorry…” He reaches for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. You just smile, how did he end up with an angel?

He finishes eating his food, you get up grabbing the empty plate. Kento gently grabs hold of your wrist.

“Please, you cooked let me-”

“You can barely stand Ken.” You’re right, he’s come to find out that you usually are. He sinks back in the chair, too exhausted to protest. After loading the dishwasher you come back into the dining room, your husband exactly where you left him. Fighting off sleep in the chair.

You take his large hand in your smaller one, leading him to the bathroom. Although, Nanami is a serious man, one who was insistent on retiring you when you got married. He secretly loved when you took care of him, your gentle hands working his sore muscles combined with the hot water cascading down his body; he thinks in this moment he could fall asleep standing up.

He looks down at his wife fussing over him, your naked form, suds of soap covering your glistening skin. Even running on 3 hours of sleep the desire in him for his lover burns. His hands roam over your curves, gripping your hips. You pause your movements looking up at him as he pulls you closer, pads of his fingers digging lightly into the fat of your hips. How long had it been since he touched his wife? Made her writhe under him? Far too long in his opinion.

You finish the shower, leading his towel-clad body to your bedroom, drying him off you grab his night clothes from the top drawer. Suddenly bashful at all the attention you’ve been giving him Kento grabs your arm as you try to slip on his pajama pants. You look up at him inquisitively.

“Kento?” He doesn’t answer, just pulls you onto his lap. His large hands holding you in place.

“Darling..” His voice hoarse. Your body shivers in response, even after a year of marriage the sight before you— his chiseled abs, damp blond hair framing his sharp features, his lips parted and pupils blown… It was still too much. You feel the arousal pool between your legs.

“K-kento, you’re tired...” You try to be the voice of reason, but the love of your life looks so damn good right now. He places soft kisses on your chest, setting fire to your skin.

“You’ve been so good to me, allow me this.” He says before trailing kisses up and down your neck. His hands leave your waist, his touch slow and deliberate. His lips ghost over you, landing next to your ear.

“It’s been terrible my love… working all day when I’d rather be here… having you.” His breath against your ear.

“Ken!” You say embarrassed, he was always so blunt when you were having sex. “Just don’t go overboard…” You chide in between moans, your hands find his damp hair, raking through it gently. 

He uses the bit of strength he has left to lay you down on the bed, your back hitting the plush comforter. His hand trailing between your legs, he groans as he feels the wetness between your folds. Your back arches as he brings his digits up to your clit, making slow deliberate circles.

He looks up at you, eyes clouded with lust.

“Honey, I need you.” Is all he says before he buries his face into your cunt.

His tongue darting out to lap up all of your slick. Your darling husband sucking gently on your clit as his fingers tease your entrance. Your moans and whimpers only serve to encourage him. His long finger slides in, curling it upwards to your sweet spot.

“Kento~ s’good” You breathe, one hand snakes up to your stomach, giving the soft flesh a squeeze. His way of saying he heard you. His eyes flutter shut, completely enraptured in pleasing his precious wife. All the paperwork, unnecessarily long meeting with his boss, the entire shit storm of the day all seems to float away as he rests between your thighs.

“So good f’me my love.” He mumbles against your skin. The hand he had on your stomach reaches below to his growing erection. He wraps his hand around his thick length, rutting into his tight fist. He moans against your cunt, imagining his fist were your heavenly walls.

He knows you so well, just by the slight change in your voice he can tell he’s bringing you closer to the edge. His pace quickens, inserting another thick finger into your cunt, your walls flutter around him. Hot squelching noises emanate from your core. He released your clit with a ‘pop’ using the wet muscle to circle around the bundle of nerves. He wants so badly for you to cum, his own pleasure completely reliant on it. Your breath hitches, body spasms as you finally release. Your arousal coating his fingers, he removes them from you replacing them with his mouth. 

He greedily slurps up all the slick from your entrance, humming as your sweet essence coats his taste buds. 

“Kentooo” You whine, slightly overstimulated. You squirm trying to push your lover's head away from your throbbing cunt, he only grunts, strong arms holding your legs in place. Only after he’s had his fill he crawls up to you, resting your head on his broad chest. 

Your husband places kisses on your forehead, stroking your slightly damp hair. He takes deep breaths, helping to pace your own breathing. He looks down at his world, even your blissed out state was irresistible to him. 

“Was that too much for you my love?” He questions softly. You shake your head, a tired smile graces his lips.

“I’ve been neglecting you honey… I’m sorry.” He says apologetically, tracing patterns on your skin. You look up at him, the guilt evident on his face. 

He worked so hard so that you wouldn’t have to, his darling wife shouldn’t have to lift a finger. However he couldn’t bear the thought of you waiting up for him, missing him. The light of his life, so lonely in the big house he bought for her.

“It’s alright Ken.” You offer a gentle smile, of course, you missed your husband, but you didn’t want to stress him out any more than he already was. 

“No. It isn’t.” He said firmly. “I’ll request more days off, I need rest. And I need you.” He holds you tight as if you’d disappear at any moment. His mind was set, you swoon at your husbands' words.

“Good.” You say smiling, he leans down to place a gentle kiss to your lips. He rolls over to his back, the exhaustion hitting him again. You throw the cover onto both of your bodies. Sleeping taking over him quickly. You place a kiss to your husband's cheek before closing your eyes.

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[felixbit]

up all night

pairing: bang chan x gn!reader w. 3.9k genre: shameless smut summary: chan is in the studio working late, stressed about a deadline and pushed to his limit. you convince him to take his mind off work. warnings: reader has somewhat implied afab anatomy but no gendered terms/pronouns are used. petnames used: baby, love, honey a/n: making my smut debut with chan! written for the best person ever

As of late, Chan has been in the studio far more often than you'd like.

You knew he was a workaholic when you got into the relationship. He cared about his career, music, and group so much he'd push himself to the brink. He wrote, composed, and produced all of his own music and wouldn't have it any other way. If he wanted success, he needed to make it himself.

It came at a cost, though. You saw the way his mental health would deteriorate around the time of deadlines. He'd spend almost entire days in the studio, perfecting every last word and beat. You watched as he shaped this music from his hands, sculpting them to smooth out every edge and imperfection.

Even Chan was far too aware how bad it was for himself. You'd try to find ways for him to take breaks, always bringing him food and water to keep him going. He'd thank you in a million ways, with words and fond touches but it ended in him going back to work.

When he finally was home, he returned to the kind and gentle boyfriend you knew him to be. Holding you as you fell asleep and buying your order at the local coffee shop before you woke up. He'd make you breakfast in bed when he had the time, writing love notes whenever he had to leave before you woke up.

As it always happened, a new deadline was approaching. Chan often slipped out after schedules to the studio and worked himself down to the bone. You tried your hardest to spend as much time in there with him, even if it was just laying on the couch scrolling your feed. Every little thing helped.

That night, you'd ordered him some takeout but it was eaten long ago. The time on your phone showed it was half past three in the morning and Chan was at it in earnest. Headphones on, replaying samples and tweaking sounds.

You looked over from your phone when you heard him swear under his breath and take his headphones off. Chan let out a long sigh and covered his face with his hands for a moment before looking back down at his work.

"It- it just won't sound like I need it to. It's not right, it's.." Chan rambled into the air.

You got up from the couch and walked behind his chair, putting your hands on his broad shoulders and massaging them with your fingers. "I know, Channie. Is there anything I can do to help you right now?"

"No, I'm sorry," Chan let out a long sigh and smiled up at you weakly, "You being here is enough."

You felt a stirring in your stomach at the sentiment, but you wouldn't give up that easily. "I can't just let you suffer alone here. Do you want to take a break or wrap up for the night?"

"I won't remember how I want it tomorrow. If I give up on this now, there's a chance I never fix it and it goes out sounding wrong. I can't do that."

"Chris," You stopped massaging his shoulders to turn his chair around, looking down at him, "I know you want it perfect. Write it down on a sticky note what you want and take a break. It's gonna be four soon and I'm not letting you spend another all nighter here."

Chan looked up at you curiously before deflating back in his chair. "I mean- are you sure? If I forget, it's gonna be noticeable, and-"

"I'll remind you. I'll put it in my phone and tell you exactly what you need to fix. Here, tell me what it is and I'll write it down. Got it?"

Chan paused for a moment before nodding, allowing you to open your phone before speaking. He gave you the exact timestamps of the song and the strange producer jargon that you couldn't quite make sense of. You wrote it down word-for-word just as he needed it.

"There, it's in here for you later," You recited it back to him and he gave a confirmatory nod, "You're all set for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? I can't be done for the night, there's too much to work on and not enough time. I'm sorry, just another hour. Please?"

You shook your head and set your phone down on the table before sliding into his lap, straddling him in the chair. "You're not working another second on those songs tonight, Chris."

Chan looked up at you a little stunned before a sly smirk crossed his face. "Baby, you know that's not fair to me. I need to work and you're doing something dangerously distracting."

"What are you going to do, then?" You replied back, unable to hold back a grin, "You gonna remove me from your lap to do some boring work instead?"

You could see Chan chew on the inside of his cheek before sighing. "It's not boring, and I really should get back to it.."

"Then you're going to have to remove me yourself, because I'm not moving."

Chan let out a dramatic sigh before his hands moved up the outside of your thighs, resting right next to your hips. "You know damn well I'm not going to do that."

"And why's that, Channie?"

His hands moved over your thighs, giving a light squeeze. "God, you're driving me insane. Coming into the studio every night and making yourself useful at every opportunity.. I wanted so bad to stop just to make you feel good. You deserve that, instead of me working the whole day."

"Your opportunity has finally come, I'm all yours if you want me right now."

Chan chuckled, "You could ask me that a thousand times and I could never say no."

You leaned in to his ear and whispered, "Then make your move."

There was a moment of silence before Chan pulled you in for a kiss, messy and rushed. His hands were all over your thighs, waist, back. He couldn't pick a spot and stick to it, deciding instead everywhere needed to be felt over.

You tried to keep things centered, your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. One of your hands played with the curls growing on the back of his head, enjoying the soft feeling through your fingers. It was the only thing keeping you sane.

His hands finally found a place to reside when he hooked them on the hem of your pants, giving light tugs as you felt him squirming under you. Pulling away from the kiss with a grin, you looked down at Chan and his flushed appearance. "So eager.."

"Can you blame me? Now stand up and help me get those off," Chan demanded with a rushed voice, helping get you to your feet as he followed in your footsteps. His usually deft hands were fumbling as he desperately pulled your pants off of you and discarded them to the floor.

Watching him undo his own sweatpants like a madman had you giggling at the sight. "You go one week without any action, and this is how desperate you get?"

"I'm a starved man, honey," Chan's face was red and already had sweat on his brow, "I can't wait any longer, not after all that teasing."

"Teasing? What-"

"Get on the damn couch."

That much was enough to have you laying down on the couch without hesitating. His sweatpants joined yours on the floor, showing off the black boxers he was sporting underneath. A quick glance showed he was pitching an obvious tent.

Although as quick as you were, Chan caught you looking. He raised his brows and laughed, "And I'm the eager one here?"

"You are the eager one here, hardly put your hands on me and you're giving those boxers a run for their money," You responded with your own laugh.

"You little.." Chan shook his head and leaned over you, putting his weight on one forearm on the couch as he kissed you once more. Instead of the fast and desperate pace he had set before, Chan was far slower and delicate. It was almost infuriatingly slow.

You couldn't show how much you wanted him to go faster, that would only prove his point. Instead, he was slowly breaking you down by the second, one arm stabilizing himself and the other hand on your neck, softly stroking your jaw with his thumb.

The waiting game paid off when Chan suddenly took your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a small tug before he pulled away. "I can't keep this up. You win. Damn you, I'm eager."

There wasn't time for any words to respond before Chan was back where he was before, sloppy and fast. He kissed down your neck, excessive in his biting and sucking at the sensitive skin. Not expecting it, a sound broke its way out of you.

You did your best not to give in to the rest of his harsh and aggressive kisses down your neck. After a week of downtime, he was making up for it in marking your neck as his own. Nobody was going to know who the perpetrator of the hickeys were later (other than the upset staff), but it was the idea that mattered.

There were bigger problems actively stealing your attention. Namely, the small amount of friction made with him moving ever-so-slightly between your legs. It was easy to ignore at first, but the neck kisses were causing the pleasure parts of your brain to kick into high gear.

With one harsher movement than the rest, you were unable to bite back a small, unfiltered sound that escaped you. Chan broke contact with your red and bruising skin to look up with a grin on his face.

"What was that, love?" Chan's tone was starkly different than before, far more teasing and with a dark edge to his voice that you only recognized coming out in bed.

Attempts to take his attention off of it failed and you were forced to fess up in the moment. "You have to stop moving like that, it's driving me crazy."

"Moving like what?" Chan shifted his legs, slotting his thigh directly between yours and pressing firmly against you. This elicited a frustrated sigh, the feeling too strong to push away.

Upon no immediate response, Chan pushed his thigh forward and forced a fuller, more in-tact moan out of you. "Fine, fine- that. Putting your thigh between my legs. That's the thing that's driving me crazy."

"There you go," Chan's words were sickly doting in a way that made you break at the seams, "What do you want instead?"

With his thigh slotted firmly between your own, finding coherent strings of words was difficult. "Just.. get this underwear off me and use your fingers instead."

Chan smiled, clearly pleased with your answer. He moved his leg out from between yours, relieving the pressure and allowing you to breathe. He sat back on his legs as he removed the last layer of clothing from below your waist, tossing it to the growing pile on the floor.

He nudged himself closer, Chan's hand finding its way to where his thigh was once situated before. His middle finger teased you with a circular motion around your entrance, so close to where you needed it most.

"Chan." You demanded, shooting him a glare.

"Okay, okay. Just admiring how worked up I've got you," Chan smirked before his finger pushed inside, slowly filling you up and drawing out a long sigh. He worked slowly yet decisively, knowing exactly how you like it.

That was one of the things you loved about Chan: he knew your body like the back of his hand. Where you were most sensitive, what drove you wild, how rough you liked him to get. He could push your buttons perfectly, string you up in his words until you were tied up into a nice present for him.

Before you could process the first, Chan had already added a second finger and was growing more confident. He worked his fingers in and out in a steady rhythm, not slow enough to leave you wanting more nor fast enough to want to slow down.

"That good, baby?" Chan's eyes met yours, and you saw a different side of him for a moment. The way he sought your approval and made sure everything was right had your heart melting. He had confidence in his abilities, but occasionally needed reassurance.

You nodded eagerly, on the cusp of desperation. "It's good, Channie, you're doing so good," You said between soft moans as his fingers pumped deep, feeling him tease a third and giving him a nod.

The third was always a stretch that had you biting back whines in conjunction to moans, but the feeling was too good to beat. The feeling of being full, on his fingers or otherwise, was what drove you wild.

He kissed you once more, slow and tender as his fingers continued to work. It was hard to keep properly connected, devolving into moaning against his lips with small kisses in between.

"Chris," You said, "Can't wait any longer. Need to have you inside, baby."

Instead of his usual entourage of teasing questions, Chan nodded. He made quick work of his boxers, tossing them haphazardly towards the pile as he moved back to you. He was painfully hard, already leaky and worked up.

"Can I?" He looked down for your reassurance, which came with a nod as he lined himself up. His hips moved forward slowly, feeling him filling you up more by the second. It always took a second to adjust to the size, catching your breath as he bottomed out and waited for your signal.

When you gave him the go-ahead, Chan couldn't help but begin a slow and steady pace. He knew better than to go fast right off the bat- he was a lot to handle. But you could hear him whining softly over top of you and knew he was desperate.

Looking up at him, you cupped his face and pulled him in for a quick kiss. "You can go faster, Chris. You won't hurt me."

You heard Chan let out a breathy laugh before his thrusts grew harsher. Instead of the slow, fluid motion of before; he was faster, precise. Every movement had purpose, each angled just right and hitting the sweet spot.

The sudden adjustment had you whining and letting out louder moans, unable to properly cope. It was overwhelming how good he was at it. All you could do was wrap your hands around the back of his shirt and claw at it helplessly as he had his way.

The fabric getting in the way of your fingers on his skin was beginning to frustrate you. "Off," You managed to get out, "Shirt- off."

Chan grinned, sitting up for a moment and slowing down to a snail's pace to pull his black t-shirt over his head and discard it. You reached up, dragging a hand down his chest and over his abs. Every muscle was yours to touch, to claim.

"You like what you see?" Chan said with a laugh.

Deadpanning, you shook your head. "Shut up."

In a second, he was back over top of you and his pace was back with a new force he didn't have before. It was often he was without clothes, but you weren't under the impression a shirt would be the thing holding him back. Either way, you relished in the fact his back was open to you.

Your nails dug in to his tanned skin, dragging along as he fucked into you steadily. You could hear him sucking air in between his teeth followed by his soft moans. He was always one to endure a little pain.

An idea popped into your head when you thought of before, sitting in the chair in his lap. "Chris, stop for a sec." He immediately halted all movements, looking down at you to make sure everything was alright. "Sit normally, facing the booth."

Chan looked at you perplexed for a moment, but pulled away. He did exactly as you told him to, sitting with his legs spread facing the booth he was just sitting in front of not twenty minutes ago. "What are you planning?" He asked.

You sat up and climbed over to him, straddling his waist with your legs and feeling him hard underneath you. "What I wanted to do to you when I was in your lap earlier."

The realization slowly filled his eyes and a knowing smile returned to his face as he sat back, leaning against the black couch cushion behind him. "Go right ahead."

"If you make me do all the work, we're going to have problems," You glared at him as your hand guided his cock, slowly sinking down on it with a sigh.

Chan's large hands wrapped around your waist, slowly guiding you as you moved up and down. Riding wasn't always the easiest job, and it definitely took some getting used to at the start. Your thighs were slowly building up muscle from the practice.

"God, you're so pretty like that," Chan's voice pulled you from your thoughts, looking down at him to see him smiling up at you. His face was pink and he almost had stars in his eyes.

Seeing just how infatuated he was made your heart race and your face flush, almost forgetting to continue to move. "You're pretty, too."

Your hands were situated on his shoulders to keep steady, but one dragged down and you couldn't resist feeling up his chest a bit. Chan looked up at you smirking again. "Do you ever keep your hands off those?"

Snickering, you pushed down a little harder to see him whine and catch his breath before you responded, "If you're going to keep your clothes off all the time, I'm going to feel up the assets you work so hard on."

"Why do you insist on teasing me all the time? You know what happens when you do that," Chan had a dark look in his eyes that you knew far too well.

Shrugging, you moved your hand up to run through his hair. "Did you ever consider I might like what happens when I tease you?"

"So be it."

Without hesitation, you felt Chan's grip around your waist suddenly tighten. You leaned forward instinctively, both of your hands secured around his shoulders.

He began to thrust up into erratically, fast and without caution or precision. The sound of your skin connecting was obscene, thanking the amount of soundproofing around you as a chorus of moans spilled out of you. Every movement had him deep inside you as you attempted to roll your hips along with him.

"Fuck, Chris," You whined, his pace unrelenting and seeming like he wasn't going to let up any time soon, "Close."

There was a distinctive feeling growing, one you knew too well. The amount of pleasure from every movement was rapidly growing as your body was being overwhelmed. Chan heard you, but didn't stop for a moment. It was almost if it was a sign for him to fuck you faster.

Either way, you were tipping over the edge before you had time to process it, spasming around him as you let you a whorish moan. He slowed down, letting you ride out the high. "That's it, baby," He coaxed, "You got it."

Just as you settled down, you felt him start to work himself into a moderate pace again. Your legs felt shot from your energy levels dipping so you asked, "Do you want to me to move, baby? I don't think I have much in me to keep going right here."

"If it's not comfortable to be right there, of course we can move," Chan said with a smile as he allowed you to reposition to pretty much the same spot you were in before. You laid on your back, Chan coming back over top of you. "That better?"

"Much better," You said with a nod as he went back to the pace he had set before. It wasn't as rough as before your orgasm, but steady enough to keep you whining and your brain somewhat fogged up from the constant pleasure.

Meanwhile, you could see Chan was already getting worked up. His face was redder than usual, his eyes trained on one spot, breathing hard as he kept the effort going to thrust his hips in one continuous pace.

His deep groans and whines had begun to turn into full-fledged moans and swears under his breath. His hands eagerly gripped and kneaded at your waist, seeming like he might accidentally bruise the skin. You were about to open your mouth when he said something.

"Honey, I-" Chan was cut off by his own faltered moan, "I'm close, so fucking close."

You pulled him down to kiss him briefly, keeping his face inches from yours as he continued to erratically thrust. "You don't have to wait, cum for me."

Chan nodded vigorously, his hips snapping back and forth at a speed that had you holding onto the couch for dear life, hearing him let out strained moans and teary-eyed cries as he climbed closer and closer to the top.

All of the sudden, he pushed deep inside you, letting out a gasp and a whine as you felt him come deep inside. His hips stuttered as he slowly rocked them, riding out the high. "Oh my god, that.. that was amazing."

Allowing him a moment to catch his breath, you smiled up at him and gave him another quick kiss. "I've missed you, Chris. I've missed this," You admitted after another silent pause.

Chan nodded, pressing his forehead against yours and sighed. He had finally mellowed out, still buried deep. "I've missed you, too. I'm sorry I haven't been able to do this with you and.. be a good boyfriend."

"No, you're okay. I know how much work matters to you and getting things right means that you see that success you've always wanted. I just always miss you in the times you're working, even if I'm in the same room as you."

"I just feel bad when you're here til way too late at night. Speaking of, what time is it?" Chan slowly pulled out, leaving his mess inside you as he quickly grabbed his phone from the floor, "Oh my god. It's half past four."

Your jaw dropped, standing up quickly as Chan hurried around the room to find something to help you clean up. He settled for his own black t-shirt, telling you he'd just go home shirtless if he had to. Of course it looked terribly stained when you had wiped yourself down, sighing while knowing it probably cost a crazy amount.

Digging through a closet, you found one of Chan's old jacket. Chan was standing shirtless and pacing with the rest of his own clothes on, the defiled shirt balled up in his hand.

"Channie, guess what I found?" You asked with a grin, hiding the jacket behind your back.

Chan looked at you with a nervous smile. "Is it something good? I'm just not super stoked to walk home shirtless at four in the morning.."

You tossed the jacket to him, Chan opting to drop the shirt in his hand before he caught it to not get the filth on it. He happily slid it over his shoulders and zipped it up all the way, picking up the soiled shirt once more.

"Shall we go?" Chan said as he double-checked his pockets and walked towards the studio door.

"We shall."

[fangswbenefits]

Intimacy

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: Lack of intimacy after childbirth can weigh a relationship down. Thankfully, Miguel always finds new ways to keep the spark alive.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Lactation kink. Fangs. Implied breeding kink. A comprehensive study on intimacy with Miguel O’Hara.

“She’s finally sound asleep.”

Holding back a yawn as you entered the living room, you were promptly met with a very heavy-eyed Miguel O’Hara on the couch, enjoying the comforts of home.

“Thank you,” he said truthfully, straightening up lightly in his seat. “Come here.”

You paced towards him, lazily settling on his lap, both legs framing his as two big and warm hands sprawled across your back, pulling you into an embrace.

Instinctively, your eyes fluttered shut once cheek came to rest on his shoulder, taking in his body warmth and enjoying the steady heartbeat that drummed against your chest.

You figured you might just fall asleep and don’t fight against it. Taking care of a baby had been taking a toll on you both as of late, but it was to be expected.

Still, you missed moments like this. No talking, just feeling right at home in a silent embrace.

Miguel planted a few kisses to the back of your neck, but they were void of any sexual bearing. You knew what he meant with those. Absolute gratitude and devotion.

“Next time, I’ll put her to sleep,” he muttered under his breath.

“Hmm.”

His hands glided along your back, fingertips applying just enough pressure to raise goosebumps across your skin.

“I mean it.”

“You’re also tired,” you drawled out with a yawn, body slumping fully into him. “Work and all that…”

Another tender kiss. “But I have responsibilities here, too.”

“Why are you so stubborn?”

“You taught me how.”

Point taken.

Silent seconds ticked by and you shifted on his lap into a more comfortable position, ready to enter the valley of dreams.

“I miss you,” he said all of a sudden.

His hands settled on your arms to straighten you, a pair of red eyes encasing yours.

“I miss us.”

Miguel wasn’t a man to deliver empty words as filler, so you knew that he genuinely meant it, which had your heart to skip a beat.

His digital suit began to fragment and reced, exposing the skin underneath. Your placed your hands on his chest, feeling the hard muscles flex under your touch.

He was so handsome. Almost unfairly so.

“Let me kiss you,” he whispered.

You nodded, bringing your lips to meet his in a lazy kiss as you dragged your fingers along his hair, earning a moan of approval.

It was a slow and steady kiss. You were in no hurry and wanted to make the most of this rare opportunity.

One of his hands slid to grope your breast and you felt him groan against you lips, breaking contact.

His half-hooded eyes were now on your chest, and as you followed his line of sight, you realised what had caught his attention.

Your shirt was getting soaked with milk.

Damn.

Two round damp spots spread across the fabric that covered each nipple, and you felt instant embarrassment take over. “Sorry… wanted to pump before putting her to bed, but she—”

“Don’t ever apologise for this,” he silenced you at once.

You tried to slide off the couch to fix yourself, but he kept you in place with both hands gripping your waist, pushing you down on him.

“Stay.”

Oh?

“I’ll help.”

Oh.

“Miguel…”

Masterful fingers worked their way down the buttons of your nightgown to reveal your heaving breasts.

You knew that look on his face.

Hunger.

“So full,” he said more to himself, cupping both of them softly.

A few droplets coated both nipples and he brushed the pad of his thumbs along the sensitive skin, earning a jerk from you.

The tingling between your legs emerged in full force from just the sight of him staring at you like he could devour you whole.

He craned his neck just enough to capture one nipple with his lips before latching hungrily.

The overwhelming sensation was enough to have you clinging to his broad shoulders for support. You squeezed your eyes shut and gasped once you felt him sucking gently.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the growing pressure between your legs from his hardening cock.

“Be gentle,” you moaned, caressing his cheek that would rhythmically hollow as he downed your milk.

“Hmmm.”

Then your hand came to his neck and you gently gripped it, feeling his Adam’s apple bob with each gulp.

You stared adoringly at him, slowly grinding into his covered cock. A raw groan reverberated through his throat, and you could tear your eyes away from the sight of the warm liquid pooling in the corner of his mouth.

The latch was just perfect and felt too good.

You brought your hand to caress his face once more, brushing a few strands of his hair away.

“You’re so good…” you moaned.

His cock twitched at your praise, and you could feel the wetness damping his own underwear. Now he was the one leaking for you, his body full on auto-pilot as precum readied him for more.

A couple of droplets began to run down his chin, dripping and drenching his underwear.

“No fangs…”

You’d felt them grazing your skin lightly, but you couldn’t really blame Miguel. His fangs would emerge from either extreme anger or blinding pleasure. A roll from your hips with added pressure was enough to tear his lips from your nipple, head falling back and mouth parting with a raw moan.

He bared both sets of fangs as both hands gripped your waist. Your own mouth dropped open as haziness filled your vision, absolutely revelling in seeing your own milk dripping from his lips and down his muscular neck.

“Fuck,” he grunted, eyes squeezed shut.

You hurried to collect some of the beads of milk from his skin, but Miguel intercepted you midway, capturing you into a searing kiss. His tongue hurriedly slipped past your lips and you tasted sweetness.

Parting yourself from him, you focused on the grind of your hips and Miguel snapped open his crimson eyes, lust dilating his pupils.

“I’m not… I’m not…” he mumbled incoherently, too lost in his pleasure. “I’m not… lasting…”

You leaned in to whisper in his ear, “I’m surprised you lasted this long,” you whispered seductively, pressing a quick kiss to the pulse point on his neck. “So much stamina…”

Miguel was a sucker for praise and it was the easiest and fasted way to get him to crumble.

Your clit rubbed against his covered cock in a steady rhythm as more droplets of milk kept dripping from your nipples. Your eyes roamed along his chest that was glistening as beads of white liquid streamed down.

Suddenly, Miguel pulled you into him, your breasts now squeezed in between you two, more liquid pouring out.

He titled your head and immediately latched his lips against your neck, fangs nearly puncturing the flushed skin.

“You ride me so good,” he murmured hungrily against you.

A moan tangled in your throat and your hips surged to encourage his, ruthlessly intensifying the pleasure. Miguel picked up the speed again and you felt each burst of bliss at every thrust and desperate to feel the next.

Your orgasm was upon you faster than you had expected, the sense of urgency in his thrusts pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Miguel… Miguel…” you moaned, your panties completely drenched.

“Inside… please…”

Desperate fingers clawed at your underwear, sliding it to the side as the tip of his cock nudged at your entrance. He slid inside effortlessly, bottoming up in an instant, and after a moment he gave a harsh cry and shoved himself so deeply and tightly against you that you gasped, clenching hard around him.

Miguel buried his face in the crook of your neck in a failed attempt to muffle his groans.

He kept grinding and rocking against you with stifled grunts, spurting hotly inside.

Only the sounds of your harsh breathing followed, and you sank against him weakly as if drained of all energy.

A familiar waile filled the room, making you wince.

“Shit… were we too loud?” you asked, trying to ease your breathing.

Miguel was still buried deep inside you, beads of sweat rolling down his face. “I’ll go check on her.”

You could tell he reluctantly slid out, easing you on your back. The sudden emptiness made you clench involuntarily, and you felt some of his warm cum spilling

“Keep it in,” he said, pressing your legs together as he planted a kiss to your forehead.

Masterlist

[yawnderu]

Content: domestic Simon ''Ghost'' Riley, husband!Simon, massages, fluff, A LOT of ass smacks because this man has a whole ass bakery.

Simon sat quietly next to you on the couch, mind reeling with the stress from the mission he just came back from, gaze distant and focused on staring ahead. You know better than to take it personal, aware that he simply needs time to unwind and process he's back home, safe and sound.

''Would you like a massage?'' You offer with a small smile, noticing how his muscles seem more tense than usual, bulging out of his clothes even more. He's quiet for a few seconds before looking at you, managing to return a half-smile and nod in agreement. Your hands hold his, trying to pull him out of the couch and being unable to— the asshole is making himself heavier on purpose, a smug smirk painting his lips at the thought of annoying his wife.

You pull harder, grunts escaping your lips because he's just too damn heavy.

''Simon.'' One stern look is all it takes for him to willingly get up from the couch, playfully swatting your head out of the way before running away once you try to kick his ass, running right after him while a small laugh escapes your lips. You crash on his back, purposely pushing him face-down in bed before smacking his ass, dragging a quiet, muffled laugh out of him.

You remove his muddy boots, helping him get out of his clothes until he's stripped down to his boxers, still laying face-down in bed, trusting you completely with his body. You get a bottle of massage oil from the closet, landing another playful slap on his rear before straddling him, sitting on his ass as you began spreading the oil all over his back. He let out a grunt at the spank, but didn't bother protesting, too distracted by the sensation of the cold oil being spread all over his tense muscles.

Your hands work wonders soon after, kneading and applying pressure on every single one of his muscles, slowly getting rid of the knots and tension in his body. He laid in bed with his head turned to the side, eyes closed as he relaxed and enjoyed the feeling of your hands working over his muscles, low moans leaving his lips sometimes at the pressure applied on his back muscles.

20 minutes is all it took to get rid of most of the knots on his back, planting a gentle kiss on the side of his head before giving him another one on the cheek, getting a grunt in response from the half-asleep man.

''I love you.'' You whisper in his ear, using the leftover oil on your hand to massage his bicep.

''I love you too, sweet girl.'' He manages to reply, voice groggy and deeper as he tried to stay awake to spend more time with you. A small giggle leaves your lips when you see his struggle, getting off of him and jokingly playing bongos on his ass, looking at the muscle and fat giggling underneath your touch.

''God, your ass is so perfect.'' Your tone is playful, but he's no stranger to you worshipping his body, a small smile on his lips at your words.

''S'all yours.'' He mumbles sweetly, voice still gravelly and coarse as he allowed you to do as you pleased with him. Another gently spank is delivered to his ass before you lean down, biting one of his asscheeks— not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough for him to feel it. His muscles twitch from the sudden sensation before he relaxes, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he turns to look at you with a smug grin.

A/N: I don't wanna kms anymore so here's some tender Simon instead of angst

[riekirei]

00:00 — nishimura riki

your boyfriend, riki, came home after an exhausting day, working and practicing. you stay up and wait for him til late to see him come home, tired.

pairing: idol bf!riki x afab!reader | genre(s): fluff | content/warning: reader and riki call each other baby, reader kisses riki on the forehead and cheek

[requested]

word count: 735

author’s note: this is just so cutee. i enjoyed writing this sm and i hope you enjoy reading it as well! not proofreaadd btw

[🎧 now playing: soren by beabadobee]

22:12

you were scrolling on your phone, laying down across the couch with a fluffy blanket covering you body. you were waiting for riki to get home from working at the hybe building. you figured he was up practicing after a long day of promoting and shooting for their recent comeback. you weren't too sure where he was at the moment. he might've been on his way home, maybe even at the studio this late at night. 

22:27

you decide to text him.

“babyyy”

“where r uu :(“

you type in and send. you blink a few times, feeling how droopy your eyes were. it was getting late and you couldn’t deny how sleepy you were. you yawned as you shut your phone off, laying it by your side. you pulled your blanket up to your chin and laid there, wondering were riki could be.

22:46

some time later, you check your phone to see if he had responded. ‘delivered.’ riki hadn’t opened your message. he was probably on his way home right now so you didn’t really worry. 

your eyelids were heavy and you couldn’t fight off how much you wanted to sleep. eventually, you fell asleep on the couch, tucked into the fluffy blanket. 

23:07

you awake to the sound of keys clanking right outside the door. the doorknob twisted and the door opened, revealing the sight of your boyfriend. he took his shoes off and dropped his bag onto the floor. you rubbed your eyes and just as you were about to stand up and greet him, you see him walk into the bedroom with his eyes half shut.

“woah woah woah, where do you think you’re going?” you ask him as he trailed off. “sleep” he said. “noo, baby. not just yet. we need to get you washed up first” you told him. riki stops and turns to see you. “babyy~ can we go to sleep?” he asks you, slowly blinking and standing still, clearly tired. you walk towards him and grabbed his arm, tugging him towards the bathroom you had in the room. “let’s wash up first, pleaaaseee?” you softly say, looking into his eyes. riki nods and walks with you towards the bathroom.

you help him get into the shower and handed him his towel and his new change of clothes. riki took a quick shower and as soon as he got out, you helped him dry his hair and body. you made sure he was feeling okay. as you pat his face down with a towel, you could tell just by his eyes how exhausted he was. “tired hm?” you asked him. all he did was nod. you smile and caress his cheek. 

23:32

after riki washed up, brushed his teeth, and changed his clothes, he laid down onto his side of the bed. you came shortly after with a glass of water you took from the kitchen while riki was changing. you handed it over to him and waited for him to finish before setting it aside for him on the bedside table. you pulled the blanket over the two of you and closed the lights, leaving only a dim one by the doorway lit up. 

you watched riki as his eyes shut. you rub circles onto his temples and forehead to help him relax and release any tension he had. riki then rested his hand by your waist, bringing you in slightly closer. your hands move up and made its way onto his hair. you play with it and lightly massaged his scalp. riki had a smile across his face.

23:49

you thought of putting pain relief patches on his shoulders to relieve any of the pain his muscles might’ve had from practicing and working all day. you get up to fetch them from a drawer in your closet. you gently lift his shoulders up to place the patches onto them. you lay him back down, looking at him, admiring how pretty he was.

23:59 

you pushed riki’s hair back and gave him a kiss on the forehead and on the cheek. going back down, riki hugged your torso and you buried your face into his chest. “i’m so proud of you for always working hard. good night. i love you, riki” you say before closing your eyes and finally falling asleep in his embrace.

00:00

“i do it for you. i love you more, y/n”

[ebodebo]

Tough As Nails—Giddy Up, Cowboy

thinking about cowboy!simon riley… MDNI | part two |

<- previous next ->

It had been about a week since your rendezvous with Simon. And, God, had it been consuming every waking and not waking thought.

Every breath, every touch had become engrained in your brain.

Him groaning into your mouth as you rode him. His fingers digging into the tender flesh of your hips as he whispered how fucking hot you looked on him. And, him casually giving you his cowboy hat after he gave you the best orgasm you’d ever had.

You hadn’t spoken since your little sexcapade, not because either of you were ignoring the other but simply because you were both so busy. He had to tend to the livestock and such, and you were up to your head in college work. Busy bees you both were.

But, your mom had made you take a break from your studies to come downstairs to join the camaraderie. So, you found yourself sitting on the corner cushion of the oversized white couch that takes up half of the living room, your family filling in the other seats.

The next half an hour is filled with questions regarding college, city life, and the age-old question of when you will bring a man home. Ah, gotta love being home.

You try to change the subject and bring it back to your cousin, who is engaged, but a figure moving outside catches your eye.

You squint a little to get a better view. It’s Simon. What the hell? He’s still working, and it’s eight o’clock at night. You decide to investigate, quickly excusing yourself and glancing outside until you see his figure walking towards the barn.

“Hey, Cowboy.” You shout, shuffling to his side. He doesn’t even have to look to know it’s you.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” He gruffs out as he steps inside the barn.

“It’s eight.” You roll your eyes as you watch him grab a bale of hay. Watching his biceps flex, making his veins bulge, causes you to gulp.

He throws the hay over the fence to where the horses are and turns to face you, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Any reason you’re out here?” He asks, walking past you to grab a bucket of grain.

“I came to help you.” You lift your chin to look at him as he strolls past you again to pour the grain for the sheep.

“Don’t need help.” You tug on your bottom lip as you see his arms bulge again and sweat beads gather around his abdomen, just enough to where you can see the outline of his muscles. God, this is so pathetic.

“It would go by faster with me helping.” You urge, as he doesn’t so much as spare you a glance as he replies.

“Doubt that.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Your defensive tone finally makes him look at you.

“I don’t mean anythin’ by it. I’m just sayin’ that it doesn’t seem you know a lot about doin’ this kind of stuff.” He casually says as you narrow your eyes.

“This kind of stuff?” You repeat his words, your hands finding refuge on your hips.

“Labor intensive work.” Your eyes widen at his words. Of course, he thinks you’re some rich girl who can’t do anything except shop and date. Asshole.

“Wow.” You gawk, as you bring your hands up to cross across your upper body, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“I didn’t think you thought so little of me, Simon.” Oh shit. You didn’t use that stupid nickname he claims to despise so much; you used his name.

He sighs, dipping his head to look at the ground, pondering a response that won’t piss you off further.

“I don’t think little of you.” He sets the empty bucket down before continuing. “I shouldn’t have said that, okay? I’m sorry.” His words sound genuine, which you know he wouldn’t fake.

“You’re forgiven.” He curtly nods, thinking you’re done. “Only if I get to help you.” You smile as he briefly closes his eyes and sighs, fine.

You spend the better part of an hour assisting him with various tasks, including feeding the calves, fixing a broken fence, and chopping firewood, which quickly became your favorite activity. Primarily because, in between the first and last log, Simon pulled his shirt off, revealing his toned body and hairy chest.

After finishing up, Simon tells you he’ll drive you back to the house since you had to go pretty far to chop the wood.

You stand outside the passenger door as Simon carefully locks up the barn door. Before he makes his way to the driver's door, he stops before you.

“You did good work.” He praises you as he opens your door for you. You don’t step in immediately; you tilt your head up, cheekily smiling.

“Do I get a reward?” His eyes darken at your innuendo, and your breath quickens as you see his body flex.

“You want a reward? I’ll give you a reward.” He steps closer to you, grasping your waist with his hands. He dips his head down and hungrily encases your lips with his own.

It's the same hunger as your first kiss but with less urgency. You could taste your shared breath and feel the thud of your combined heartbeats. Your hands roamed up his chest while his slipped into your hair, threading his fingers through the strands.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You murmur into his mouth as he slips his tongue into yours. He grips you tighter, moving his mouth lower to press deep kisses on the tender skin of your neck.

“Scared your little boyfriend is gonna see us?” He murmurs into your skin. Referring to your guy friend, who you had been friends with for years and who was currently inside chatting with your mom.

“Fuck off. He’s not my boyfriend.” You say, gripping the back of his neck and bringing him back to your lips. “He’s a friend.” You gently nip his bottom lip, making him groan at the sensation.

“Gotta’ lot of guy friends?” He cheekily says, slipping his hand so it’s gently grazing the hem of your shirt.

“Just him.” You breathlessly reply as he slips his hand up your shirt, grazing your stomach as his lips graze against your ear.

“What about me?” He murmurs, gently nipping your ear lobe, making you grip his forearm.

“We are not friends.” He lets out a deep chuckle as he slips his hand past the waistband of your jeans, down to the button, gently unclasping it before pulling your zipper down.

“No? What do you suppose we are then?” He roughly asks as he slides your jeans down a little.

“I don’t know. Acquaintances?” You choke out, gripping his shoulders, as he grazes your cunt over your soaked underwear. He leans down, hovering over your ear.

“Don’t think acquaintances get this wet over each other.” He gently slips a finger under your underwear, carefully grazing your slit. “Do you?”

You can’t even speak. You’re too busy focusing on the way his finger feels in you. Too busy making sure you don’t fall over onto the dirt.

“Huh?” He tuts, slipping his finger entirely in you, grazing your sweet spot. You moan at the direct contact, fully leaning against the side of his truck.

“Probably not.” You manage to choke out as his fingers pump in and out of you, as he dips his head yet again to engulf your lips with his own, only pulling back slightly to praise you.

“Atta’ girl.”

Jesus Christ. You never understood how one single word or phrase could make a person lose it, but, in that moment, you almost came on his hand right then and there.

“You need more?” His husky voice rumbled through your ears, making you ferociously shake your head. He chuckles at your enthusiasm and slips another finger into you, this time lapsing around your clit.

“Fuck.” You moan out, pressing your forehead into his chest. “Feels so good.”

“I can feel.” He murmurs, referring to the multiple times you have clamped around his fingers. His fingers continue to move harmoniously inside you, grazing your clit in the process until you feel your impending orgasm.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. It was strong and intense. You thought riding him gave you the most intense orgasm you’d ever had, but he managed to intensify that with just his two fingers.

After a moment of you slumping against him to come down from your high, he zips and buttons your jeans and opens up the truck door for you to slide in.

Once he slips into his seat, he turns to you.

“You got your reward.” He breathes out, watching as you gently bite your lip.

“Now where’s mine?”

a/n: thank u guys for all of ur kind words on part one! i really appreciated it:)) hopefully, you enjoyed this💕

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.

The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.

It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.

As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.

Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.

Hey baby,

I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!

Love you.

P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO 

Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?

Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort. 

His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.

Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him. 

Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.

The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.

The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.

No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.

You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”

Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.

Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.

“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.

It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.

You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold. 

Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.

“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."

You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.

“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.

Together.

Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low. 

He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind. 

“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”

Home, still such a strange word for him.

Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.

Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.

“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."

You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."

Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.

Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight. 

Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.

You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.  

[peachesofteal]

Ghoap x female reader / 18+

Everything was fine.

Your phone was quiet, but that didn’t mean anything. You would wait. You’ve waited before.

Sometimes it took a while for them to ring. They had a life together, a home, things to take care of. They had lives to rebuild every time they touched down, got home, got out of their work clothes. Pieces to patch, blood to wash clean.

You weren’t their girlfriend. They aren’t beholden to you, there’s no sacred vow tethering the three of you, no promises or pledges. You don’t know Johnny’s middle name, or Simon’s, anything about their families, their private lives. You barely knew about their jobs, only holding the scraps tossed to questions lobbed back and forth across pillows. They leave little marks across your mind, little spots of scars, knowledge scratched into your skin, sunk into your body, but never too much.

You weren’t a part of their life, really.

You were a part of the dark hours. The soft ones. You were in the orange rays of sunlight cresting over the city, and the emerald abyss of pitch black night. You were the flickering yellow street light, the grey blue smoke of Simon’s cigarette. The in between. Here in the moment, gone with morning.

For months, you had spent their time home pressed between them, folded beneath them, balanced above them. They made you sing. Made you scream, made you cry.

But most of all, they made sure-

you understood the status quo.

“Say it.” Simon cradled your jaw, thumb and finger full of steel, like he was oblivious to Johnny beneath you, his cock sliding in and out of your body, his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, your back to his chest, eyes wide and mouth agape, Simon did not flinch.

���I- I’m not-“ a gasp, a groan, words bitten off when Johnny strokes faster, curved deep against the spot that makes you see stars. Sweat builds across your skin, slicking down your spine, and Johnny chases it, tongue sweeping salt clean. You swallow to try again. “I’m not- not yours.”

“Not ours.” Simon’s fingers wrapped around the engorged length of his cock, stroking leisurely, eyes half lidded. “You’re not ours, sweet girl. But we’ll take care of you, when you’re here.”

So, you fell into it. Fell into them. Got comfortable waiting for the phone to ring, going weeks or months at a time- holding your breath. You got into a rhythm, syncopated behind the swell of their voices, their bodies, their souls. Along for the ride. A passenger.

It was fine. You weren’t looking for anything serious anyway. Maybe someone to hang out with here and there, grab a drink, have some fun. All of these things, they gave you. All of these things were provided. Granted, you only went out with them to a dive around the corner, a dark, bottomless place with tar licked floors and worn away wooden bar. The kind with dusty stained glass pendants swinging over pool tables that have seen better days, wrought iron back patio furniture that squeaked when Simon would pull you onto his lap and hook the hem of your panties to the side to stare at your pussy, hungry and desperate glint in his gaze under the silver glow of moonlight. He’d flip up your dress and stroke you with the back of his knuckles, just the down the seam, cooing, telling you how lovely you look, asking how much you missed them.

They never took you out for meals, or dates, or anything like that. They kept you in bed, buried beneath them, wrung out, drained dry. They took and took and took until you had nothing left to give. They’d feed you, make you come, fill you up and put you to sleep. Rinse and repeat.

And it was all… fine.

Even tonight was fine. Johnny had emailed, said they were back in service range and they’d be around soon, if you weren’t busy. Typically, a phone call came later. Late, in small hours, when half the city slept.

So when you fell asleep to nothing, you weren’t surprised. They’d catch up with you.

They always did.

You didn’t hear from them the next day. You forced it away easily, didn’t let the unease nag at you, pasted a smile on your face for your friends when you agreed to meet them for dinner.

No strings. You’re not their girlfriend, you’re not theirs. You’re cool. It’s cool. You’re fine.

Besides, your friend had gotten a reservation at a very nice restaurant in one of those shiny new hotels that just went up.

You shoved the boys from your mind.

You were the cool girl. You were unaffected.

You’re fine.

“So how’s work?”

“Oh, it’s fine. You know, same shit different day.” You roll your eyes, touch light on the thin stem of a wine glass. The red is a shade darker than your nails, and your lips, and it tastes like sweet cherries soaked in acid. Stringent. Sweet. You’re about to reciprocate the question when the bulk of a man catches your eye, handsome width of a shoulder you’d know from a mile away.

Interest in your friend’s conversation evaporates, and your tongue turns tarnished, sticking in the back of your throat like an overgrown thorn.

It’s Simon. Your heart pounds, and you drink in the sight greedily, elated to see him outside of their flat, or in the bar. Thrilled to get a glimpse of him in the real world, in a restaurant, a real, tangible place, in a real, tangible moment.

“I’ll… be right back.” You manage, slipping from the both to the wall, openly gaping across a room full of diners. As he moves, you mirror it, coming closer and closer to a hallway, a lead off down to the bathrooms.

“Simon.” His name slips from your lips without permission, a build up of excitement and anxiety, all twisted into one heap that darts out in front of your intentions, your resolve. Not cool.

You expect him to be surprised, certainly. You expect to see that small spark, the little fire burning behind his irises, expect him sweep the length of your body.

You don’t expect the surprise to be blanketed with the white fog of indifference. The grey slab of a stone wall.

It confuses you. Startles you. And when you take a step-

Johnny turns the corner, an arm slung around the waist of a pretty, thin, blonde.

His lips part, brows knitting together in slow motion. The girl, their date, it seems, is oblivious. She only bats her eyelashes at Simon and then gazes up at Johnny, sweet and hopeful.

You turn cold. Your fingers go frigid, ice cracking through your veins and attacking your heart, slowing your pulse.

The room spins.

And you’re alone in it. Dining room chatter falls away, drowned out by the thrumming between your ears.

You’re alone. Alone, staring at them, trying to piece it all together, trying to breathe, trying to be-

Cool.

“I uh…” You teeter, precarious in your shoes that now feel like a mistake, like your dress is a mistake, being here is a mistake, getting up from the table-

You’re not their girlfriend. You’re not theirs.

“I’m just gonna… go.” You begin to backpedal. Johnny says your name, says it quietly, and takes a step, lurching forward, an animated corpse seeking its last meal.

“Bonnie, ye-“

“I’ll see you around.” You blurt, stepping back out of reach. Johnny’s fist clenches, and he casts a dubious glance towards Simon, who’s tense and focused on you. “See ya.” You croak, and then spin on your heel, trembling all the way out the door and into the cold, crisp air.

Very uncool.

[hooniebaekgu]

Too good

PAIRING : Park Sunghoon x female Reader

GENRE : smut

Warning : MDNI! unprotected sex, morning sex, reader is a too good at everything, use of the petname 'angel', spanking, morning wood, no prep, sunghoon

Word Count : 1.3k

Yukki's Notes : finally got to finish this after my trip

It was 10 in the morning, sunlight peeking through the curtains woke you up. You had stayed up late at night — at least it was late for you — waiting for Sunghoon to come back home.

He had been extremely busy the past month, barely any time for you as you slept in a cold bed every night. But he promised you that he'd return early yesterday.

He couldn't keep the promise, coming home smelling like alcohol, whiskey prominently. He was extremely apologetic but you were tired and sleepy out of your mind to even get angry at him.

You just wanted his strong arms around you as you slept soundly.

You were — as Sunghoon claimed — too good for him, you were everything parents wish their children were, everything a boss looks for in his employees, everything a teacher looks for in his students. But also everything he ever wanted.

Sunghoon was still asleep, his warm breath hitting your neck. Your back to his chest, his arms seemed to get tighter around you when you shuffled.

You tried to lift his arms to get out of bed, you heard a groan and Sunghoon held you impossibly close. His lower half pressed flush to yours, your cheeks warmed at the feeling of his semi hard cock pressing against your ass.

“Where are you going, angel?” he whispered in your ear, his hot breath making the hair on your arm stand. His voice was low, deeper than normal.

“We gotta wake up, baby. You have work.” you mumbled, squirming at the feeling of his hands slowly wandering around.

His hands slipped inside your shirt, fingers ghosting over your sensitive nipples. He rolled his hips, grinding his almost hard cock on your ass. He peppered kisses down your nape, licking and sucking once in a while.

He pinched and rolled your nipples in his fingers, groping your breasts once in a while.

You whined, your clothed pussy throbbing from his actions. As if he read your mind, Sunghoon slithered a hand down, palming your cunt through your panties.

You knew where this was going, and as much as you wanted to get to work on time, how could you say no to this?

“Sunghoon, please.” you whined at the lack of friction to your cunt.

His fingers pressed against your clothed clit, sliding them down to rub at the wet patch on your panties. He slipped his hands inside.

“Fuck, so wet baby. Who did this to you, hm?” he said, rubbing slow teasing circles on your clit. “Y-you, oh my g-god hoonie, please…” you whined, gripping his hand, wanting him to go faster.

“Please what? Say it, angel.” he said, going just a tad bit faster. He wanted nothing more than to be buried in your cunt, but hearing you beg him was making him so hard.

“Fuck me, please. I need you.” you said, whining when he took away his hand. You felt him shuffle around, getting rid of his boxers and throwing them somewhere in the room.

Sunghoon didn't bother to take off your panties, he hiked up your leg to give him space, pulling away your panties just enough to slide in.

He rubbed his tip along your cunt, moaning at the pleasure. His tip was rubbing against your clit, slowly he pushed in, but just the tip. You whined, reaching behind you to grab the base of his cock, pushing him inside.

He started slowly, savouring the moment, feeling more sensitive than usual. You whined, feeling annoyed at how slow he was going.

“Baby, faster please.” you said, pushing your ass against his hips, grinding at your own pace.

You gasped, feeling a sharp pain against your ass cheeks, Sunghoon's hand came up to soothe the pain, apologetic but not quiet.

“Stop being so impatient angel.” he said, rolling his hips faster, giving you what you want. His hands continued to grope at your chest, rolling your nipples in his fingers.

You moaned, your eyes closing and body going lax at the onslaught of pleasure. Sunghoon slipped his hand down, rubbing harsh circles on your clit. You were close, clenching hard on him, but how could he give you what you want so easily?

He pulled out of you, pushing you down, making you lie on your stomach. You pushed your ass out, arching your back the way he likes. He placed a pillow under your hips.

Sunghoon pushed your ass cheeks apart, gazing at your wet cunt. He placed a tight slap on your ass, rubbing his palm on the skin, which was turning red.

Wordlessly he pushed his cock in your pussy, he moaned feeling you tighten around him immediately.

“S-such a perfect pussy, angel. So good for me.” he moaned, leaning down so that his chest was pressed to your back. He intertwined his fingers through yours, pressing soft kisses on your back, contrary to his thrusts.

You moaned his name like a mantra, his hips pistoning into yours at a maddening pace. The sounds of your moans, the slapping sound and the squelching of your cunt reverberated through the room.

“Hoonie, o-oh my god, mph f-faster” you said in between moans. You weren't sure if you could take more, but at this point, that sentence was just a reflex.

“Yea? Faster, you sure you can — oh my god s-stop clenching —” he cut himself off to let out a string of moans. “you sure you can t-take it, angel?” he said, moaning in your ear.

Sunghoon took both your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. With the other hand he grasped your hip, stopping you from any movement.

He angled his hips, thrusting in and out, hitting your sweet spot continuously, his ball smacking against your clit.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, feeling his tip rub against your g spot feverishly. You arched your back, the angle making him go deeper.

Sunghoon moaned, resting his head on your back. His hips pick up speed, bucking his pelvis against your ass.

He let go of your wrists, both of his hands grasping your hips, pushing you in a deeper arch. He pounds into you like his life depends on it, his fingers leaving marks on your hips that would last days.

Your mouth falls open, sounds reduced to mere whines and babbles. A sound akin to a sob rips out of you at how good he feels.

You feel a knot build up in your stomach, his thrusts pushing you closer and closer to your release.

Sunghoon starts rutting his hips into yours like an animal, desperate to feel that high.

“S-so fucking tight, fuck angel, you're gonna cum? Yea, cream all over my dick?” he pants and moans obscenely loud.

You grasp the bed sheets, clenching down on him as your orgasm is ripped out of you. Your whole body starts convulsing.

His eyes rolled back feeling your tightness around him, he grinds his hips into yours, hard. Sunghoon stops after a couple thrusts, his cum painting your walls as you weakly moan at the feeling of him filling you up.

He pulls out of you slowly, careful not to overstimulate you, although he isn't against the idea he knows you're tired.

“You okay, angel?” he asks, leaving fluttering kissing down your back, rubbing the red skin of your ass cheek that he hit.

You roll over to lay on your back, “Yea, ’m fine.” you say, voice hoarse from previous innuendos.

Sunghoon laid down, pulling you closer so that your head was buried in his chest. You wrapped your arms around him, leaving a peck on his chest. He in turn pecked the top of your head.

It seems that Sunghoon had yet again managed to distract you from your daily routine, but who's complaining?

[rynbutt]

pierced. pt. 4 | spencer reid.

"Focus here, sweetie."

you can find the other parts on my masterlist.

cw: fem!reader, 18+ content, suggestive as fuck, making out, nipple stuff (my finger slipped), fluff

a/n: this made me feral

He had been gone for weeks. 

You hadn’t seen Spencer in almost four weeks after your little date at his desk. Case after case came through and he and his team were sent all over the country. You came to understand that Spencer’s job was hectic, wondering how any of them had social lives at all with how often they were called into work only to disappear for days or weeks at a time.

Spencer had called you a handful of times while he was in Illinois, telling you all about the UnSub they caught while you were half asleep working late at your desk. But after that, it was radio silence from Spencer and you could only assume he was neck deep in work just like you. 

You sat at your desk, leaning back in your chair with a loud sigh. You were sure your boss had it out for you, given how you were basically the last one in the office trying to finish up a project. You tried to take it as a compliment that they trusted you to handle these things but god you just wanted to go home, pour a glass of wine, put on a face mask and pretend to have your shit together.

The exhaustion made your eyelids feel heavy and your vision blurry. You let out a tired yawn, attempting to blink away the deep desire to crawl under your desk and nap. The sudden buzz of your phone kept you from nodding off at your computer.

Spence: Are you home?

You: Nah, I’m at work, sorry :(

Spence: Still? Isn’t it a bit late?

You: What can I say, I’m an ass-kisser

Spence: Have you had anything to eat?

You: Not yet, I’ll worry about that later

Spencer read your message but didn’t reply. You turned your focus back to your work, sipping on your cold coffee to hopefully bring you back to earth. After forty-five minutes and another two cups of coffee, you finally finished your project. You were in the midst of sending a half-assed email to your project manager when you heard the elevator ding.

“Is Y/N still here?” You heard Spencer’s voice and your heart fluttered.

“Oh yeah, she’s just around the corner,” one of your coworkers replied. You rolled your chair back from your desk, peering around the corner as a lost little Spencer looked around.

“Spencer?” You called softly. His eyes darted to the sound of your voice, his face lighting up at the sight of you. He looked so precious in his sweater, with his messy hair and mismatched colourful socks. He did a little run down the row of cubicles to your desk, holding a plastic bag of what you assumed was takeout. 

You stood up to greet him, the exhaustion suddenly dissipating, “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to bring you dinner,” he replied, holding the bag of the best smelling food out for you. 

You pouted at the gesture, “Spencer, you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. As a thank you for bringing me dinner the other week,” he said with a smile. 

“Wait… how did you know where to find me?” You raised a brow at him, staring at him sideways. Spencer’s face went red, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“I’m sure you told me,” he lied.

“You’re a bad liar.”

“Garcia maybe… did some digging,” he replied under his breath, staring at everywhere but you.

You playfully punched his shoulder, “you stalker,” you laughed. 

You pulled another chair over for Spencer, sitting down at your desk and finally pulling your dinner out. You don’t know where Spencer found this food but it was probably the best thing you’d ever eaten… but you also hadn’t fed yourself in 12 hours so maybe your judgement was slightly skewed. 

“When did you get back?” you asked, mouth full of food.

“Two hours and four minutes ago,” Spencer replied, playing with the little Hello Kitty figurines on your desk. 

“Spencer!” you scolded. “You must be exhausted!”

“I’m okay, really,” he quickly said. He let out a breath, shyly avoiding your gaze, “and… I wanted to see you.”

You smiled softly at his confession, reaching over to move some of his messy hair out of his face, “you’re cute.”

“Thank you,” he beamed.

The two of you sat at your desk for another hour as you ate your dinner and finished up your passive-aggressive email to your manager. Spencer helped you clean up your small collection of mugs and carried your bag for you while you cleaned up your desk. You walked to the elevator together, reaching up to gently grasp Spencer’s hand in your own.

“This okay?” You asked.

“Y-yeah, of course,” he replied quickly, feeling his hands going clammy and praying you didn’t notice.

You were lucky you lived within walking distance to your job, it proved to be very convenient for exercise and the price of fuel didn’t murder your already dusty bank account. Spencer opted to drive you home since it was late and he wanted to make sure you were safe. You tried to offer him cash for fuel but he waved you off (you hit twenty dollars in his glove box). 

Spencer pulled up outside your apartment building, the two of you sitting in a comfortable silence for a moment before you spoke, “you… want to come up?”

“Oh… yeah, yeah, sure I can,” Spencer replied nervously, clearing his throat.

“You don’t have to,” you laughed.

“No, no, I want to,” he said quickly, putting his car in park and taking his keys out of the ignition. 

The two of you walked up to your apartment, Tofu rubbing against Spencer’s leg upon his arrival. Spencer was delighted by this revelation (he’d done a lot of research on cats after finding out you had a cat).

“Did you know cats rub up against you like this as a way of putting their scent on you?” Spencer said, running his hand along Tofu’s back, “so other cats know you’re theirs?”

“I didn’t know that,” you lied, of course you knew. But you would never let Spencer stop talking. You shrugged off your coat, tossing it over one of the chairs at your kitchen table. “Make yourself comfy, I’m just gonna go change.”

Spencer watched as you walked to your bedroom, Tofu trotting behind you. He awkwardly shuffled around your apartment, admiring the polaroid photos stuck to your fridge of what he assumed was your friends from your hometown. He smiled softly at how happy you looked. A particular photo of you at a halloween party made his face heat up. You were wearing a white lacy bralette, a white skirt and angel wings. Your friend next to you was dressed like the devil and your other friend dressed as… the Pope?

But that’s not what caught his eye, it was the fact he could clearly see your breasts through your see through top. He could see the little gold studs on either side of your pert nipples, truly juxtaposing the whole angel costume. Spencer had honestly almost forgotten you had your nipples pierced (no he didn’t).

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” you almost scared Spencer out of his skin. He was so distracted by your… assets, he didn’t hear you leave your room.

“Uh, nothing- nothing… just this,” he grabbed the closest thing to him, which happened to be your toaster.

“My… toaster?” your eyes narrowed.

“Yup, love this model,” Spencer nodded, putting your pink toaster back down on the counter. 

You glanced at the polaroids on your fridge, deciding not to embarrass him further, “you want a drink? I have wine, wine and… wine?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I need to drive home,” Spencer waved you off before shoving his hands in his pockets. Spencer glanced at your outfit, the baby blue tank and grey shorts made a comeback and now he was rethinking the whole ‘wanna come up?’ scheme. 

“How bout a coffee?” you asked.

Spencer gave a tight-lip smile, “Sure.”

You made Spencer his coffee and watched as he almost emptied your sugar jar. You poured yourself a glass of wine before sitting down on your plush couch, patting the spot next to you for Spencer. He sat down next to you, taking a sip of his sugar drink. He looked positively adorable drinking coffee from your Kirby mug.

“You should tell me about your recent case,” you said, tucking your legs under your butt, giving Spencer your undivided attention. 

“...You want to hear about that?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“Duh, of course,” you retorted. “I like listening to you talk, Spencer.”

Spencer’s heart quickened at your genuine words, making him beam internally and his brain turn to mush. Spencer proceeded to tell you about the BAU’s most recent case, a string of seemingly unrelated murders of college students at house parties. Your heart leapt to your throat when Spencer told you how the UnSub started shooting at him and Emily before he was arrested. 

“If you get shot, I’ll be so mad,” you told him after he finished his story.

“Okay, I’ll try not to get shot,” Spencer grinned, “so you won’t get mad.”

“Correct answer,” you nodded, downing the last of your wine. Spencer watched you as you stretched your arms over your head, a yawn pulling from your wine-stained lips. His eyes darted to your blue tank top, one of the thin straps falling off your shoulder. Your apartment was cold and your nipples pressed against the thin fabric of your top.

Spencer reached a hand over, gently lifting the strap of your top back over your shoulder, his warm hands making the hairs on your skin prickle. You glanced up at Spencer as he retracted his hand, quickling reaching your own hand out to grab his wrist.

Spencer stared at you with wide eyes, so beautiful and brown.

“Do you… want to see?” You asked quietly, your voice low.

Spencer looked at you, unsure of what you meant, “See what?”

You smiled, “My piercings,” you clarified.

Spencer felt like he exploded. His cheeks went red at the idea of seeing your breasts and the tiny intimate piercing he had only seen through your shirt and in his mind late at night. Sure, he had seen breasts before but he had never seen yours and that’s what made him nervous. 

“I know you must be curious,” you said after Spencer didn’t reply. Spencer opened his mouth, attempting to form a single coherent thought. “Earth to Spencer?” you sang softly.

“I, uhm-”

“You don’t want to?” You asked.

“No, I do!” He quickly said before the weight of what he said hit him, “Wait, no… Y/N, I like you and I don’t want you to think that I’m only here to see… that,” he gestured vaguely.

You grabbed his hand gently, leaning over to kiss his cheek softly, “I like you too, Spence,” you muttered, his eyes finally meeting yours, “and I don’t think that you’re only here for that, trust me, guys have before and you’re not them.”

Spencer felt jealousy at the thought of other men seeing such an intimate part of you nag at the back of his mind. You watched his expression change, knowing his big genius brain was in overdrive. You reached a hand up to cup his face gently, bringing his attention back to you.

“Focus here, sweetie,” you whispered with a smile.

“Sorry,” Spencer whispered back.

“I don’t have to show you if it makes you uncomfortable-”

“I am curious,” Spencer interrupted, his voice nervous and quiet. You let out an airy laugh at his sweetness and let go of his face, sitting up straight.

Spencer swallowed the painful lump in his throat as you crossed your arms, fingers grasping the hem of your tank top. His eyes never left yours as you lifted the fabric over your heart, your breasts fully on display for him to see.

It took all of Spencer’s courage to glance down.

And god you were perfect.

Your breasts were smooth and soft, your nipples hard against the chilly air of your apartment. If Spencer were any less respectable, he would be drooling. His eyes stared at the gold jewellery threaded through your hard nipples. He had never seen anything quite as attractive as this and he was sure that nipple piercings were the single greatest thing to ever exist.

“...You’re giving me the wrong idea, Spence,” you chuckled after he stayed quiet for several minutes, simply admiring your beauty.

“I-I’m sorry,” he quickly said, “You’re just…”

“Bit weird, you think?”

“Perfect,” he said, looking up at you again. “You’re just… perfect.”

A small smile graced your lips, “Do you… want to touch?”

“I-I’m not very good at… any of this,” Spencer quickly replied, all he wanted to do was impress you and this was sending him spiralling. 

“I don’t care about that, Spencer,” you grabbed his hand, “I like you, I trust you and I want it if you do.”

Spencer kept his eyes on you, “I… Yes. I want to.” He let you guide his hand to your breast. His hand was warm and large, cupping the soft plush skin gently. His breath hitched in his throat as he felt your soft skin, curious and nimble fingers exploring your skin. His thumb came up to touch the cool metal of your piercing, your breath catching in your throat at the feeling, “Sorry,” he quickly said, pulling his hand away.

“No, no, it’s okay… they’re just sensitive. An added perk of nipple piercings,” you replied. Spencer nodded, taking a mental note as his hand reached back out to touch your skin again. 

You wrapped your hand gently around his wrist, catching his attention. Spencer’s beautiful eyes stared into yours and you lost it. Your hands reached out, pulling him in by his tie to plant a hard kiss against his lips. Spencer’s hand cupped the side of your neck, tilting your head back to kiss you deeper. Your hands came to hold the back of his head, fingers tangling in his soft hair.

He pulled away to breathe, thumb stroking over your cheek, “are you okay with this?” he whispered slowly.

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Then so am I.”

That was all the encouragement Spencer needed to kiss you again, pulling you closer until you swung one of your legs over his thighs, straddling his waist as you kissed him. You tasted slightly of wine and sweetness, the smell of your perfume sending him dizzy. Spencer’s hands came down to rest on your waist, his thumbs resting against your ribs. 

“You want to keep going?” You asked breathlessly against his lips.

“I don’t want to stop,” Spencer replied just as breathlessly, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw. You whined softly as one of his hands reached up to grasp your breast again, the pad of his thumb rubbing against your pert nipple. 

“Spencer,” you whined, your hands grasping at the hair on the back of his neck. He planted a kiss on the column of your throat, then another to the small divot of your collarbone, and another to your sternum. His fingers gently pinched your nipple, making you whine softly. “Not good at this, my ass,” you breathed.

“I have an IQ of 187,” Spencer retorted, “I remember a lot.”

“Clearly,” you replied, lifting his head back up to kiss him again.

a/n: i hope everyone is okay with the lack of smut, i just want everyone to feel comfy (i'll totally write it in a future chapter ;) if you want tho)

taglist: @crazycat-ladys-blog @cillsnostalgia @secretly-tumb1r @33-81 @elissanatok @outrunangelss @cultish-corner @666-gothic-bat-666 @evvy96 @littlemarvelstan8 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @meg-black

[tojisbbygworl]

The Apartment Across The Street - Sukuna x Reader

In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of the window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it.

Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.

Words: 6.7k

Tags - 18+ MDNI, No Use of Y/N, No Curses, Set in late 90s/early 00s, Smut, Angst, High Sex, Missionary, Degredation, Marijuana, Slight x Toji (I can't help myself)

WARNINGS - Dead Dove, Dark, Non-Con/Dub-con, Breaking and Entering, Sukuna and Toji are criminals, Sukuna's a hitman, Choking, Violence

AO3 Version

Masterlist

author's note: Heyyyy! Okay I went a little too hard like I always do so this is a bit long and (imo) it get's a little intense so be warned. I hope you enjoy hopefully I have some motivation to keep writing. art cred: @innaillus

That apartment used to be empty.

Sukuna hadn’t been home in a week. He doesn’t mind. He’s learned to not have too many hopes or expectations in this line of work. Besides, he prefers being his own boss. He accepts contracts when he needs money then he’s off until it runs out. Doesn’t matter if they take days or even weeks.

Shorter jobs like this one weren’t his treat. They don’t pay as much as he likes, but it works out. These apartments were a bit shitty, they didn’t cost too much. And, he was right in the middle of the city. Easy to meet clients. The clubs went on all night long. Which is exactly how late he was out when he was home. Actually, he was planning to go out tonight. Meet up with Toji and see if he can’t get a woman in his bed by 2 am.

He wondered how long it would take to see his newest neighbor. The way the apartments in the complex are built, you could easily see into your neighbor’s bedroom. 'State guidelines say blinds aren’t required. You buy them,' was the response he received when he brought the problem up to the landlord. A lot of people invested in curtains, maybe they hadn’t bought any yet. He saw a bed, but it seems to be the only thing they’ve managed to set up. There were a couple boxes with flaps wide open sitting beside it.

After a few more moments of rumination, he closed his curtain and laid down on his bed waiting for a text to come over. In truth, he couldn't wait to see who was unlucky enough to be his new window neighbor. The last one didn’t go too well. They also didn’t invest in curtains and he isn’t entirely sure if he’s the reason they moved out, but he’s sure they didn’t appreciate catching his stare multiple times a day. And that one time at midnight.

-

All it took was the next morning.

Sukuna’s eyes crept open and he stared towards the ceiling. The girl he brought home last night was dead asleep and naked on his chest. He yawned and wiped his face tiredly. He nudged the girl off of him a bit, then sat up on the side of his bed. Ugh, he felt like shit. Toji always went entirely too hard when they went out, but Sukuna doesn’t mind. He has nowhere to be. Nothing to do. 

He got up and stretched then walked to the bathroom. As he completed his morning routine, he pondered about what today would behold for him. This is another reason he hated short jobs. Sukuna loves free time, but only if there’s something to do with it. There never really is.

He could kill that girl in his bedroom. In fact, he could have killed any girl he brought home since he moved in half a year ago. But the last time he made his job his hobby, it didn’t go so well for him. It was too close of a call, and getting arrested for murder just isn’t worth it. He could spend a couple months in the pen, not years at a time.

He spat out his toothpaste. Life was so fucking mundane. He had no life goals, barely any friends, his little brother hates him, and he works alone. All things he doesn’t actually care about, but shit, when is he going to get some excitement? Nothing gets him going anymore.

He needs something that will make him feel. A drug of some sort? But that doesn’t seem right to him. Even now as he walks back in the room staring at the woman in his bed, he feels nothing. If she woke back up and decided she wanted to have sex with him, he would say yes, but only because it’s something to do. He’s not feeling any particular way about her.

The moment he sat back down on the bed, she started shifting around. A few seconds later, she lifts her head and yawns. “Good morning.” She giggles, she leans over and kisses his cheek. Sukuna grunts.

The girl looks around the dark room. “It is morning, right?” She doesn’t let him answer before she stands up and opens the curtains. “Oh wow,” she exclaims. “I can see directly into your neighbor’s room.” She says. He still doesn’t get up, just hums at her.

“She’s cute though.”

Sukuna perks up upon hearing that. “Oh yeah? I haven’t seen her yet. She’s new.”

This was the first time since they’ve met that she said something interesting, but unfortunately for him, she drops the subject immediately and walks back into bed, leaving the curtains open. Sukuna holds back his sigh. Does he really want to spend the rest of his morning with this girl? It was half past 8. Way too early.

“I'm going to start getting ready for work,” he says without skipping a beat. She stops in her tracks and blinks at him, clearly not expecting that. It’s silent for a few moments. Sukuna’s not sure what she’s waiting on, but if it’s for him to say he’s kidding or let her stay, she’s sorely mistaken.

“Oh, I thought you were contracted,” she says nervously.

‘I only work when I feel like it, gorgeous.’ Sukuna inwardly curses himself for his suave nature. “Yeah. I got a contract. In an hour.”

His curtness and annoyed expression did good to make her feel completely and totally unwanted. The girl awkwardly smiled at him. “Oh, ha ha. Yeah…okay.” Sukuna got up and walked out of the room. Give her a little space to feel like shit while she gets ready to leave. He makes himself a cup of coffee, his face still that same blank expression even after he hears her rushing out the door from behind him. When she’s gone he takes himself back into his room.

He walks up to his window to close the curtains once more until someone catches his eye. He freezes and his eyebrows shoot upwards. That girl was right. She was cute. And he had the perfect view of her. She seemed to be posing or checking herself out. Sukuna wasn’t sure which one it was, but he hoped she didn’t stop. That bikini she had on was doing wonders for her, and him.

Something was off. Looking at her made him…tense. His hands were gripping the curtains, he was biting the inside of his cheek, his leg was shaking; Was it anxiety? No, she’s not making him nervous. What he’s feeling is euphoric. He likes it. He wants to grip her bare waist and squeeze her until she bruises.

In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of her window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it. Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.

-

It doesn’t take long after that to finally meet her.

Before taking his most recent job, Sukuna had nearly consumed everything in his fridge. What was left was now finished and he spent a lot of his morning sulking at a half empty milk carton, his breakfast for the day. He hated eating out, it messed with his figure.

The local grocery wasn't too bad of a walk from his place, although he hated carrying everything back. He always bought a few necessities and a few ingredients to quickly whip something up for his dinner. Today, he’d have to bulk up if he doesn’t want to keep coming back.

As much as he hated the public, shopping never seemed to be a problem for him. He was tall and intimidating, he never smiled, he was always tense; people tended to avoid him like the plague. He appreciated it. But, as he enters the frozen meal aisle with his cart half full he wishes that just for a moment, he looked approachable. Then, this would be much easier.

There she was, in sweatpants and a cropped tube top, looking at the frozen pizzas. She looked like she had been home all day. She was much cuter now that he could see her better. A lot cuter. She’s pretty as hell.

Thank goodness, too. He already knew what her body looked like, what with her constantly taking pictures of herself in front of the window. She liked to play dress up, she would try on entirely different outfits before she was satisfied. Pretty soon, the colors of her bras and panties would be ingrained into his memory.

He stood there looking her up and down for a few more seconds before he started browsing once more. Although he really was looking for food he wanted, he used this opportunity to slowly get closer to her. He pretended to be interested in some frozen broccoli and he snuck a look at her. To his surprise, and enjoyment, she had done the same. When they made eye contact, she jerked and looked away. A couple moments after that, she grabbed her food and walked away into another aisle.

Sukuna chuckled to himself. She wouldn’t get away that easily. He dropped the broccoli in his cart and followed after her. He hadn’t seen which aisle she’d gone into, so he kept walking down and looking into each one until he found her trying to get some chips from a high shelf. He smiled upon seeing her struggle. Maybe this would be easier than he thought.

He managed to walk right up behind her and reach for the chips she was trying to get before she got startled. She gasped a bit and looked up at him. He looked down at her. Fuck, she was pretty. His heart started to pound, he could practically salivate at the idea of taking her home.

He hands her the chips before she can say anything, then walks away. Before he’s out of her sight he hears her say, “Thank you so much.”

Her cadence, the velvety softness of her voice; it made him want to drop to his knees. How sweet would she sound if he bit into her neck? How soft is her yelp when she stubs her toe? How shrill is her scream when she’s in pain?

Her appreciation made him stop in his tracks. He turned over his shoulder to look at her. She seemed nervous and her eyes were uncertain. Sukuna began to feel restless. So many ideas of what he could do to her if he got her alone were rushing through his mind and she was none the wiser. This aisle has been empty and no one has come by. He could take her right now.

Instead, he looks her up and down. “Yeah, sure.” And then he walks away with his shopping. He leaves wondering when next they’ll meet, she does the same as she watches his back.

-

“Still haven’t called the maintenance guy, huh? Lazy jackass.”

Sukuna turns his head to the side and glares at his unwanted guest. Toji may have been his best friend, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t want to break his fat neck and bury him in the park. Besides, that title meant jack shit. They met in jail and Toji helped him get on his feet when Sukuna’s sentence was up. Toji never really left him alone and Sukuna stayed because his family was rich. If anything, they were close acquaintances who had sex sometimes.

Speaking of Toji’s money, the asshole grew up in an affluent family which means his standards were a bit too high for the humble abode that Sukuna prefers. It was probably the most annoying part about him. He was complaining about the door to the bathroom. It didn’t close correctly so you had to force it shut. Something that just isn’t enough of a problem to be bothered to try and fix.

“Stop coming over if it annoys you so much,” Sukuna responds, taking another drag from their second blunt for the morning. He was finally starting to feel something from it and he didn’t want to hear Toji whining about bullshit.

“Nah, I think I’ll keep coming. Especially with your fine ass neighbor.” Toji walked away again, not seeing Sukuna’s head jerk towards him. What was he talking about? Sukuna didn’t tell him about her. Did he see her?

“Why the fuck are you in my room?” He gets up to follow behind him. Sukuna looks down the hallway and sees both his room and the bathroom doors wide open. The bathroom was empty. “Get out.”

He starts walking towards his room door but jumps back when Toji rushes out of it. “Come look at this,” he says, grabbing his arm.

Toji had this crazed grin on his face and he was tugging him along impatiently. “What the hell are you-” Sukuna’s words die in his throat as he gazes upon what had Toji so excited. It was his beautiful neighbor changing in front of her mirror again except, there was a big problem. She had never been completely naked before.

Holy shit, her body could stop a truck. Sukuna let his jaw drop. His eyes raked her from her breasts to her legs. She would turn around occasionally, walk back and forth in front of the window, oh he loved the way her tits bounced. He wanted her on top of him, his dick sliding in and out of her while he latched onto her nipple.

“She’s sexy as fuck, huh?” Sukuna’s unceremoniously snapped out of his trance by Toji’s comment. He turns his head towards him looking at his smile and twinkling eyes. “She do this all the time? Does she even know?” Toji gasps and looks him in the eye. “Does she do it on purpose?”

I’m that moment, a switch had flipped inside of Sukuna. Toji was watching her before he brought him in here. He saw her naked first. He shouldn’t have seen her at all. The warm swarm of butterflies in his abdomen had fluttered away, a feeling of rage building in his heart instead. She was Sukuna’s to look at, not Toji’s.

To answer his question, Sukuna shrugs. Then, they both turn towards her again only to make eye contact with her. They see her gasp, cover herself and shriek before running from the window. “Fuck,” they say in unison before shutting the curtain.

“I blame you for that,” Toji says despite both of them being at fault. He puts his hands in his pockets and walks out of the room. “Where’s the blunt?”

Toji may have forgotten about that little encounter, but Sukuna doesn’t think he can forget anytime soon. He hates that Toji got to see her like that. They still haven’t spoken more than once to each other, and now she knows he’s a pervert that stares at her through their windows. Sukuna scowls at the ground then slams his hand into the wall. She’ll leave soon just like the last one did, but this time, he doesn’t want to accept that as a possibility.

He gives himself time to calm down before joining Toji again. He can’t bring work home again.

-

It was over.

He saw her once after that incident. Waiting for Toji to pick him up for the night, he stood outside the local gas station smoking a cigarette. She’d been on his mind since. She invested in curtains, unfortunately. She was really uncomfortable. He’s not even sure if she’s left the apartment.

Thinking about what happened made him furious. If Toji hadn’t gone into his room he would have never seen her. Oh he just can’t shut the hell up about the shape of her ass and how he would let her suffocate him with her gorgeous thighs. Sukuna sighed, her thighs were gorgeous weren’t they?

She was a missed opportunity. There are so many ways he could have started something with her. It’s not like she didn’t like him, had they met again before that, he’s sure he could have gotten her number. Usually, missing out on a woman wasn’t that bothersome, but she was different for him. He looked forward to beating his dick under the windowsill while she tried on clothes. His imagination wasn’t bad, but by the time he came in his hands, his dick was red and sore and his arm was tired.

His memory is not enough. He wants her.

He looks at the time on his watch. A quarter ‘til midnight. He rolls his eyes. Toji’s always late. A quick snack is in order.

Sukuna mindlessly stares at the powdered donuts wondering if he really feels like fucking up his clothes and having dirty fingers. He hates club bathrooms, the one here is just as bad, and he doesn’t want to lick his fingers. Maybe he won’t. But right before he decides to leave, the door opens. He turns his head upon hearing the small ring of a bell, but doesn’t pay attention to the culprit until they’re in the same aisle. “Oh shit,” he said before he could stop himself.

He tries to look away before she notices, but it’s too late. He looks back at her and grimaces. The girl is shaken to her core. Poor thing is afraid. And while Sukuna feels a bit bad about making such a cutie so frightened, it kind of…warms his heart. She takes in a deep breath and twists back around. She doesn’t even buy anything. She just leaves.

He almost chases her. He stands in the aisle still reveling in her presence. He breathes deeply thinking about how nice it felt to have such power over someone. Hm.

Sukuna leaves the store only a few moments after her. Toji’s BMW was running next to a pump as he got out of the car. “Oh shit, there you are.” He grins. “Guess who I just saw.”

“I know. She was running from me.” Sukuna says, getting into the passenger seat.

Toji cackles while driving away. “Damn, so she’s scared of us, huh?” Sukuna shrugs. “She looked like it. Girl was huffing it. Actually…she ran down the street towards where we’re going.”

Sukuna raises a brow at him. Toji doesn’t say anything and just keeps smiling. “So?”

He turns on his beamers and slows down as he drives between the apartment buildings. Sukuna’s eyes widen as he realizes just what Toji’s trying to do. And soon his lips follow. Just up ahead was a figure with a hoodie walking very quickly. They turn around and immediately shield their eyes from the bright lights. It was her.

She seemed confused at first, and the bright light contrasted with the darkness of the night blinded her from seeing who was in the car. However, she didn’t stop walking or slow down. She decided to mind her business instead. It could be anyone. Anyone. Even though it was the same car waiting at the gas station.

Despite her telling herself that she’s okay, she couldn’t help but notice how they were matching her speed. And that once they had gotten right behind her, the window was rolled down. And that she still had a block left to go.

“Ay,” Sukuna shouted from behind her, effectively terrifying her. She turned to see his smile and upon further investigation, she saw Toji’s from the driver’s seat. Oh no. “You can’t say hi? You scared of me?” He taunts.

She ran.

-

And that was the worst thing she could have done.

There have been a few recent instances that made her question her move to this city. She was hoping to start a new life, away from her family, away from her ex, make some new friends; she didn’t think she would be planning to move out after a couple months.

That man…she didn’t know what the hell his problem was. Why did he and his friend follow her out of the gas station? Was he crazy? Did she do something to him? Since they followed her, she’s been racking her mind trying to figure out what the hell she did to deserve this. Before that, she had only ever spoken to him once at the grocery store. He was extremely intimidating, but she was intrigued by him. She didn’t mean to stare, but he was very attractive. Clearly he had seen it as some sort of invitation. Maybe he followed her into that aisle and it wasn’t just an act of kindness.

Coming home after work had become so much more nerve wracking. In fact, coming out of her unit brings her horrible anxiety. She’s constantly looking over her shoulder. Tries to pretend the building across doesn’t even exist. She doesn’t understand what took her so long to get curtains; it just wasn’t a priority for her. Either way, she didn’t deserve to be punished for her forgetfulness.

She’s in a weird position where the longer she goes without seeing him, the more worried she becomes even though she never wants to see him or his friend again. Currently, she was in the elevator heading up to her apartment. She was catching her breath and trying to relax now that she was safe. She does this everyday now.

She couldn’t wait to be home. The entire day she’s been feeling like complete crap. Her heart refused to leave her stomach. She dropped so many cups behind the bar that she spent more time sweeping and wiping up drinks than making them. And she was on the verge of tears the entire time. It was nice to be home, but she wondered how bad it would be tomorrow.

In fact, it was so bad today that although she was physically relaxed, her brain just wouldn’t be quiet. It kept telling her to stay alert, that there was still something waiting for her. She tried her best to ignore it and enjoy her night. She was going to kick off her shoes, rip off all her clothes, warm up her leftovers and hit her bong. She was off tomorrow and she is not planning on leaving her room at all.

She messed with her keys when she approached her door. All the apartments had two locks, a deadlock and a lock on the handle, but she was looking for another that she could attach herself. The home goods store near her didn’t have any promising ones, so she had to wait on a shipment.

She reached for the handle to unlock it. Her hand twisted the lever and she retracted it immediately. Her heart starts racing once more, but then she realizes the door was still closed. When she can’t get the door open, she sighs in relief. The deadlock was still intact and locked. The apartments are just shitty.

As relieved as she was in that moment, this just meant she had another problem to deal with. She couldn’t go with one of her locks not working, especially not the handle. In fact, maybe she’ll deal with it tonight. She does have tools and she can be pretty handy when she needs to be.

Like she wanted to, she kicks off her shoes and rips off her jacket. She almost takes off her clothes before she notices a certain smell in the air. Her apartment smelled of weed, but it smelled like someone was actively smoking right at that moment. Maybe it was her next door neighbor.

She walks through her silent home. Maybe she should get a cat. There are quite a few friendly strays around. She could afford-

What was that noise?

A bump. In her bedroom.

What could it have been? Had her worst fears come true?

No. It’s not possible…so why had that sinking feeling returned in full force? There was nothing in her room. There was no one in her room…

-

Toji had broken the lock for him. 'Just record it for me,' was his end of the bargain.

The place was just as cute as he thought it was. She still had a lot of things unpacked, and she hadn’t gotten a couch for the living room. Hm. He wonders if she really is planning on leaving. That would not be good.

He would want her to stay, but if she can get away from him, at least he’ll get a taste of her.

She leaves her weed out. Hm…he would enjoy this better if he were high. And he’ll make her smoke too. 

When he heard her coming closer to her room, he put the bong down and stood up. Her room was small and it was pitch black, the only light coming from the embers in the bowl. He hit her closet door and she heard it. Fuck. He hopes she doesn’t get a weapon out.

And she didn’t. This girl is…something else.

He hides right behind the door in between the wall and the hinges. Then, he waited quietly and patiently until she slowly opened the door and turned on the light. And before she could try to look around, he slammed the door shut behind her.

-

It all happened in a second.

She heard the door slam and time froze. She told herself then and there, that she was going to die tonight. She knew who her killer would be before she turned around. Did she even want to?

She didn’t have a choice, her body reacted before she could think. All she saw was a small scowl, he had brown eyes, but they looked tainted with blood. His hands, his large hands, shot towards her head and before she could scream he trapped her mouth shut. His other hand gripped the back of her head.

She fought him as violently as she could. She scratched his face, pulled his hair, tried to poke him in the eyes; but he was quick to show her that he was much stronger than her. He pulls his hand off of her mouth and smacks her across the face. She can only scream for a second before his hand is back on her mouth and he pushes her into the bed.

Sukuna takes his hand off of the back of her head and squeezes her neck. He still holds her mouth shut. She gets weaker and weaker as the oxygen leaves her brain. He leans down towards her face to speak to her. “You want to live?”

Tears had long been streaming down her face, but this is the point where she finally breaks down wailing. She lets her arms fall and Sukuna loosens his grip on her neck. But only slightly. She takes a deep breath and cries into his hand. “Answer me,” he says. “Come on, pretty girl.”

She cries a bit more before nodding her head in defeat. “I know. You’re gonna do what I say?”

She nods again. “You’re not gonna scream when I take my hand off?” She sniffles and sobs again. “Because you want to fucking live, right? Right?” He tightens his grip on her neck again. She kicks her feet and nods as best as she can. “Go turn off your light and turn on your lamp. You’re gonna smoke with me.”

He gets off her and watches her to make sure she does what he asks. It takes her a minute, she lays there quietly sobbing and wiping her tears while Sukuna takes another hit of her bong, but eventually she gets up to turn on her lamp, then flip her light switch. “Lock the door too. I like the feeling of extra privacy when I’m taking a woman to bed.”

-

He disgusts her.

He forces her to take several long hits that had her in horrible coughing fits. And of course, it wasn’t long before she was completely inebriated. She couldn’t really move too much, or think too much. But even though she was out of commission, she could hear every word Sukuna said to her.

He talked her ear off about how he’d been looking at her for a week before they met at the grocery store. All the way up until she realized just how exposed she was from catching him and his friend staring. It was her fault, is what he said. He said she was stupid to not think anyone could see her. She should have gotten blinds or curtains when she moved in. A fucking dumbass bitch.

That’s how she felt.

He taunted her as he watched her take her clothes off. His dick was already in his hand, he had been hard for a while. Imagining his dick finally pounding into her as he squeezes the life out of her.

‘I think you wanted someone to watch you,’ he said to her. She hung onto every word he said, answered every question he had. ‘You’re an attention seeking slut, aren’t you? Nod your head.’ And she did. ‘What’s your name?’ And she told him. ‘Take that shit off faster and come hit this again.’

She was completely out of it, but instead of floating, she sank. She sunk deeper into the bedsheets, Sukuna weighing her down with every word. Every stroke of his hand on her thigh, every lick on her neck and collarbone, every bite on her chest. When he reached down between her legs and stroked her clit, she moaned, then cried in shame.

“Shhhh,” he whispered in her ear from behind her. “You’re gonna love me. And if you’re good I won’t hurt you.” He kisses her ear, then nibbles on it. He leaves a trail of wet kisses down the side of her neck. She cries and shakes, twisting her head away from him as best as she could. Sukuna’s hands explore her body eagerly. He can’t decide whether he wants to grip her hips or play with her nipples. She was so soft, just as he imagined.

He flips her onto her back. “Look at me, baby.” She opens her eyes only slightly, her tears blurring her vision completely before falling. He takes his hand to cup her cheek and wipe them with his thumb. As she gazed upon his naked body on top of hers, she accepts her fate: this man was going to rape then kill her.

He looked deranged. His brows were knit together with a lopsided grin. Her body is racked with sobs once more. “It’s okay,” he tells her. “Shhhh.” He slowly brings his thumb wet with salty tears to her mouth. She tries to pull her head away, but he quickly attaches his hands back to her mouth and head then he leans down towards her. “I thought you said you wanted to live.”

She’s actually not sure at this point. Does she want to live with this trauma? Does she want to continue being this man’s neighbor for him to torture however he sees fit? Does she want to have to look at his building every single day living in fear that he’ll do it again? Living in fear of his friend getting any bright ideas?

“Just relax.” He lets go of her head and goes for her neck. She moans as he bites and sucks on it, making sure to leave a mark reminding her of what he did. It won’t be the only one.

Sukuna slowly takes his hands and lifts both of her legs in the air. He licks his fingers while looking at her, then bites his lip as he plays with her clit once more. She breathes harder and harder with every rub. They don’t break eye contact, it does something to him. He’s reveling in her fear. Her eyes were shot, her mascara and eyeliner running down her face. It made her look even more beautiful. She was making him feral.

Sukuna’s dick was an angry scarlet and dripped precum all over her leg where it rested. He was big and it scared her even more. As his eyes explored her body, he got hungrier and hungrier. He slides a finger inside of her and starts pumping. Her pussy was slick with her arousal.

“Fuck,” he whispered putting in another finger. He pumped his fingers hard enough to make her wetness splash. She threw her head back and arched her chest into the air. She sounded just as sweet as he thought she would. She was turning out to be everything he wanted and more. He wasn’t waiting any longer.

He yanked his fingers out of her and searched her bedside table for his camcorder. She whined when he removed himself from her and watched him. Sukuna pressed record.

“Say hi to Toji,” he told her, sticking the lens in her face. She closes her eyes and tries to avoid the camera. He grips her chin with his fingers and forces her head forward. “Ain’t she pretty?” Sukuna pulls away from her face to record her body. He takes her tit in his hand to play with. He jiggles and pulls on her nipple before smacking it. When she squealed he did it again.

“He’s gonna love watching me fuck the shit out of you.” Sukuna sat and balanced the recorder on her nightstand perfectly angled to show their torsos and hips. He gets back on the bed to grab her waist and pull her towards his. He groaned when he felt his dick rub against her pussy. “You know who I’m talking about, right? My friend? You know he saw you before I did.”

He pauses to spit into his hand and starts jerking his throbbing shaft. “I wanted to kill that fucker.” Sukuna leans over once more and kisses her several times before capturing her lips in one long and forceful kiss. He rubs his dick against her entrance as he does this, with a desperate moan from both of them to accompany it. Sukuna rests his forehead against hers. “Tell me you’re mine.” His eyes are fiery, and she doesn’t wish to find out what will happen if she fails to do what he asks.

His tip begins to poke through her entrance. She whimpers and he brings his head down and bites her lip. “Come on…”

“I’m yours-” He finally starts tucking his dick into her. The feeling of being inside her was heaven on Earth. He wasn’t ashamed of how loudly he moaned. She was louder anyway. They always are. Even when they don’t want it.

“My name is Sukuna.” She takes all of him like a fucking champ. And looks good as fuck while doing it. And her voice…

“I’m yours, Sukuna.”

A tear ran down her cheek. The dragging of his dick against her walls was nothing like she’s ever felt before. It felt so good, but she was the unhappiest she’d ever been. She’s terrified and unsure if she’ll live to see tomorrow. He says he won’t kill her if she’s good, but what does good even mean to him?

She knows there’s nothing she really could have done to avoid what was currently happening to her. This man- no, Sukuna, saw her when she was first moved in and decided then and there that he wanted to rape her. No matter what he claims about her being rude and ignoring him when he helped her. And yet, she blames herself.

If she had just gotten curtains or blinds early enough, then maybe she could have avoided him. Or maybe she wouldn’t have existed to him at all. At least he wouldn’t have known what floor she was on or her room. Maybe he wouldn’t have known what building she was in.

She was so fucking stupid.

-

He repeated that all night.

‘Stupid fucking bitch,’ he would mutter under his breath. ‘Changing in front of a window, thinking no one’s gonna see you? Posing in mirrors and shit?’ He fucked her at a smooth and steady rythym, she was soaking wet and splashing all over his stubble. The sheets were damp underneath. ‘Oh yeah. You like it when I talk to you like that?’ She couldn’t stop herself from crying in humiliation.

He asked her to cry louder for ‘Toji’, which she did, and he proceeded to smack her across the face for being too loud.

He felt amazing, he pushed her legs into her chest and hammered into her. She cried into his mouth as she came all over him. Her pussy squeezing his member drive him insane and before he knew it he was cumming inside her. ‘Fuck…’ He pulled out and jerked the rest of his cum onto her pussy and thighs. He quickly grabbed the camera to show Toji, with the flash on.

‘Look at that shit,’ Sukuna made sure to examine her at every angle. He pushed his finger into her and chuckled when she moaned. His index was covered with his cum and he brought it and the camera up to her body and face.

She was completely tired out. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak, she could barely even lift her eyelids. Sukuna kissed at her like a dog, then maneuvered the camera to her face. Her face was soaked with tears and spit. Her makeup had smudged everywhere and ran down her cheeks. Her hair was a mess, and she ached everywhere.

Her mouth hung open and Sukuna proceeded to jam his finger into it. He used it to pull her head back over to him and made out with her. Then, his dick started poking her ass.

She had no idea what time last night they were finally done, talk less of when she actually fell asleep. He smoked a blunt after the whole thing, sat her up so he could make her smoke too. He found her liquor cabinet. The night got worse.

She puked her guts out then fell asleep on the floor, but now she was in her bed trapped underneath him. They were both naked. She was sore as the day was long. He snores next to her. Holy fucking hell. She’s alive. Why is she alive?

She starts breathing heavily and looking around her room. She doesn’t know what to do. She didn’t think she would still be here.

In a flash, he’s up. His hand is over her mouth, and his eyes are staring into hers. He has a poker face. She shakes in his clutches and her eyes fill with tears already. “Relax. Listen to me. I know what you’re planning.”

What? What is he- “I dare you to fucking try and move away from me. I will follow you and ruin your life.”

“You said you were mine last night? Then you’re mine. You’ll do what I say, and I’ll do as I please with you. Do you understand?”

All she could do was nod. What could she say? She was planning on moving despite not having the money for it. She would have to save up. And now that he’s shown her what he’s capable of, why would she take the risk? 

Why is this happening to her? What did she do to deserve this? Want a better life for herself?

-

Sukuna was pleased with how the morning was going.

She was sitting on a stool in her dining room watching him make them breakfast with an ice pack on her face and a blanket over her body. She didn’t know what to think.

Suddenly, he perks up and turns towards her. “You got a phone, pretty?” 

She could throw up again. She swallows and points towards the hall . “My room,” her voice was hoarse and weak. “On the other side of the bed.”

He pauses and blinks at her. She gets scared again wondering what she did wrong this time. He turns the heat off. “You’re coming with me.”

Toji answers in a flash. “So, how was it?”

“You’re gonna like what you see.” He turns towards where she’s sitting on the bed. “Isn’t that right?” She’s not amused.

“Are you…are you with the bitch right now?” Toji asks.

“Yeah,” Sukuna makes his voice dreamy. “We’re going steady.”

ending a/n: Please lmk what you think ! Thank you for reading !

Masterlist

W E L C O M E P A G E

[queenimmadolla]

𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐝

Summary: A glimpse into Eddie’s morning as a first time and young dad with his baby. Oh, and you’re there, too.

Warnings: allusions to sexy stuff, descriptions of breastfeeding (it’s natural—suck it up), and fluff.

a/n: pulled this one out of the vault for you guys, written last July. hope you like it!

Eddie’s up before you and surprised to see it’s light outside, a sight he hasn’t woken up to in the last couple of months. Two, to be exact.

  That’s when the two of you had brought Penny home.

  Eddie yawned, impressively loud before he slapped a hand over his mouth, gaze flickering to you but you were still asleep; on your stomach with your face partially hidden in your pillow. You’d successfully kicked the sheets off yourself in your sleep, leaving your legs bare and your top half covered with one of Eddie’s larger shirts. 

  One of your legs was bent at the knee and raised up near your elbow.

  God, you always looked so fucking delectable. All he’d have to do is rouse you with some kisses pressed to your neck, settle himself behind you, pull his boxers down and move your panties to the side and he could just—

  Eddie inhaled sharply, tearing his gaze away from your body before his blood could rush off to an area he didn’t have the time to acknowledge, as the very reason he couldn’t partake in his little fantasy cooed from her crib. 

  She’d been the result of a very similar event.

  He took a couple of moments to calm himself, squeezing his eyes shut as he promised, soon.

  Then he got out of bed, snagging a band t-shirt from the dresser as he walked to the crib on the other end of the room.

  Eddie yanked on the shirt—only briefly struggling with the arm holes—before he was peering into the crib, mouth breaking out in a megawatt grin.

  Penny was awake alright, big brown eyed stare focused on a sticker that had been plastered to the wall of his room long before she was even conceived. You’d swaddled her before putting her to bed last night, so she looked like an adorable, content burrito.

  Once she realized Eddie was hovering over her, the sticker lost her attention and those big beautiful eyes were on him, sparkling as her mouth parted in a gummy smile big enough to rival his own. 

  Daddy came to rescue her from confinement. 

  “Hi, baby, good morning!” Eddie cooed, trying his best to excitedly whisper so as to not disturb you, but he couldn’t help it. He was still so thrilled—and fucking terrified—to be a dad, to have that cute face peering up at him every morning and waiting for him when he got home from work. She always looked at him like he was the greatest thing to walk the earth, always so delighted to see her daddy.

  Even though she’d start crying for you the moment you came into view—but you had an advantage he lacked, you always had her food on you. Her walking meal ticket.

  And Eddie couldn’t even blame her, he was a huge fan of your boobs and he’d even bet he appreciated them more than Penny. 

  Eddie reached into the crib, tugging the tucked in corner of the blanket out and as the blanket around her loosened, Penny’s arms shot up near her head, her tiny body arching as she stretched for a comically long period of time. Eddie chuckled, using it to his advantage, he slipped an arm behind her back and head with the other supporting her bottom as he picked her up, pressing a kiss to her head (and giving her hair a secret little sniff to get a whiff of that baby scent of hers).

  “Did you sleep good, honey?” He cradled her in one arm, tucked close to his chest as he carried her out of the room to start on breakfast. 

  Penny obviously didn’t answer, head resting against his collarbone.

  “Heard you woke up mom last night—well, early this morning, I guess—with boobie demands.”

  Eddie pulled the fridge open, hovering in front of it as he debated on its contents before selecting the cartridge of eggs.

  He didn’t want to put Penny down, happy to have her curled up in his arms, so a simple breakfast would have to do. A pan was pulled out, so was a little bit of cooking oil and soon Eddie was breaking the eggs out of the shell—angling his body to the side so Penny wasn’t at risk of possible oil splash back—and letting them cook.

  “You like eggs?” Eddie asked, stepping a little ways from the stove as he hitched her higher on his chest and held the eggshells out for her to see.

  She kicked her legs, a roll covered arm shakily reaching out towards the shells but Eddie kept them out of her reach.

  “Uh-uh, no sticky fingers for you, young lady.”

  The shells were tossed in the trash can but Penny didn’t care, twisting her upper so her chest was pressed to his. She gripped his shirt loosely in her chunky fist as she leaned forward and mouthed at his shoulder, effectively soaking the area with her drool before she began to suckle.

  “Jesus, you act like we starve you.” Eddie chuckled, reaching for a recently washed pacifier to pop into her mouth.

  She seemed to prefer it over his shirt, doing a full body sigh once she was suckling on it, with her need partially sated (eddie knew he had about fifteen minutes to wrap up breakfast before she realized nothing was coming from it and would start crying), Penny went back to cuddling into his chest. 

  She was starting to be a little more active—not sleeping as much as she did this time last month but for the most part, her movements were still unstable. She had good neck control (you’d had to pin Eddie down to keep him from picking her up when she’d immediately cry upon being put down for tummy time), she liked to kick her legs like she was about to take off for a marathon, but she still couldn’t quite hold things for long (unless it was hair or fingers) and had yet to roll over without you cheating and nudging her the rest of the way.

  Speaking of making Penny do things…

  Eddie lost to his intrusive thought, rearranging his hold on Penny so he was gently grasping her sides as he placed her feet on the counter. Immediately, she popped down to squat before shooting up again. And then she did it once more, getting comfortable with using her legs.

  She didn’t even seem to wonder why Eddie was making her stand, she was more focused on staring intensely at her own feet.

  Then Eddie made her jump, lifted her up and down and up and down, and when that got her smiling wide enough for her pacifier to fall out of her mouth, Eddie moved onto the cabinets.

  “Go, baby, go!” He turned her on her side, miming the motions of her chunky legs running over the top cabinets like some baby ninja and laughing at how big her smile managed to keep getting, her big eyes squinting with it.

  “What are you doing to my baby?” You asked as you emerged from the bedroom, rubbing sleep from your eyes.

  “She’s gonna be the next Karate Ki—hello.”

  Eddie couldn’t help himself, dark gaze trailing over your figure as you stood there, hair a wreck, no pants, oversized t-shirt—ooh, and a leaking nipple. 

  Eddie’s favorite. Yum.

  You followed his gaze, scoffing at the dark stain growing over your left boob, hand pressing against it to stop it as if you were applying pressure to a wound.

  “It heard her,” You pouted, lip stuck out and wobbling at him as you referenced your body’s response to the sound of your baby. Crying, giggling, whimpering—didn’t matter, your milk ducts went into overdrive, aware that your baby was conscious and could need a feeding. Her baby noises were like a trigger sequence.

  Eddie lifted Penny to his face, pressing fervent kisses into the chub of her cheeks, “Score for you, babe!”

  You rolled your eyes, completely, utterly fond and smitten over the interaction. He briefly abandoned the kitchen to hand her to you after you’d made yourself comfortable on the couch, ready to fall to his knees in adoration.

  You pulled the shirt over your breast, and despite trying to place your nipple in her mouth for her, Penny struggled to find it, mouthing greedily at your boob, her little head turning this way and that way but always missing the peak. 

  “Girl, it’s right there.” You laughed. Penny gave it like four more seconds of trying before her whimpers kicked in and you hurriedly managed to get her to latch, stopping the outburst.

  And just like that, Penny was content, making satisfied little squeaks as she nursed and stared up at you, pretending like she hadn’t been moments away from screaming her lungs out.

  And Eddie was distracted, solely focused on the two of you and how he wanted to roll around on the carpet because the cuteness aggression was almost unbearable. If this was how he would be spending every work-free morning for the rest of his life, he was ready to convert to being a morning person.

  Especially if those big sparkly eyes and that gummy smile would be staring up at him. GOD-she was so stinking cute. He wanted to smother her in his affection, but she was growing annoyed with Eddie all up in her face and squishing the chub she was accumulating. She even cried if he faked chewed on her chunky cheeks for too long.

  “What’s that smell?” You asked, snapping him out of his love stupor as you sniffed loudly.

  “FUCK!” Eddie bolted back to the kitchen, smoke surrounding the pan and what had once been edible eggs, “Hey, honey, what’s your opinion on extra crispy eggs? You a risk taker?”

“The answer to that is hurting my nipple right now.”

“Valid. That was a very fun risk.”

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