poemguy

[scarletemeraldpurple]

Kinktober day 29: Break in

Rio Vidal x nonbinary Reader, mention of Rio x Agatha, implication of future Agatha x Rio x Reader

Notes: Noncon->Dubcon, hate sex, reader has a vulva, daddy kink, Rio and Reader are exes, lots of non-gendered pet names

You’d been lonely since she left you. She got swept back up into whatever she had going on with Agatha Harkness. You couldn’t entirely blame her. Agatha was always quite charming, if a bit…unfeeling. People around you thought Rio could be unfeeling too, that she and Agatha deserved each other. You thought you had seen another side of her, a gentler side. But you were wrong. As soon as Agatha moved back to town she had dumped you, without hesitation.

You sighed as you entered your home after work. Your friends were supposed to come over and watch a movie but they all had something important come up. You understood in each case, but it still sucked. You prepared yourself for a night of movies and wine all by yourself.

Nothing could have prepared you for Rio sitting on your couch, ostensibly waiting for you to come home. You had changed the locks about a month after she dumped you because a burglar had come through Westview. Her old key shouldn’t have worked anymore.

“Jesus Christ Rio, what the fuck are you doing here? How the fuck did you get inside?”

“I missed you.” Rio said with a twisted smile.

“I hate you.”

Rio tilted her head and got up. You had the door open and were motioning for her to get out.

Rio looked like she was about to leave, but then gripped your wrist and took it away from the doorknob, letting the exit close shut.

“Rio get the fuck off of me,” you said angrily.

Your ex just chuckled.

“You don’t want to hear what I have to say?” She said as if she was hurt.

“No Rio, I really don’t give a shit what you have to say. You’re lucky I don’t call the fucking cops on you.”

Rio smiled, amused at the fight you were putting up. She grabbed your other wrist and pinned you t the wall, hands on either side of your head. She pressed her body up against yours.

“Go ahead sweetheart, fight me. Call the cops on me. If you just wanna see me in handcuffs, you could always just ask.”

“Like you’d ever give up control.” You huffed. Her face was so close to yours. You hadn’t been close to anyone like this in so long.

“Baby, if you really wanna be in control,” her eyes darted down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, “you can be.”

“Fuck you, Rio”

“I know that’s all you want isn’t sweetheart? You need to be touched baby, I know, it’s okay.” Rio slotted a thigh between yours and you gasped.

“Fuck…fuck off Rio,” you spat.

“So much fight tonight.” Rio whispered in your ear, giving your cheek a quick kiss.

You turned your head away, so you wouldn’t have to face her.

“When’s the last time you got fucked baby? When’s the last time someone’s taken care of you?”

You didn’t answer her, concentrated on fighting the urge to grind down the leg between your thighs.

“Oh baby…no one’s touched you since me huh?”

“Fuck you,” your voice was starting to break. You were frustrated, hurt, but god were you turned on.

“Sweetheart,” Rio’s voice had softened, “look at me.”

You reluctantly met her gaze.

“There we go, you were always such a good pet for Daddy. And good pets get rewarded.” Rio said.

She leaned in to plant a kiss on your lips. You resisted her. Despite how soft her lips were. How good her touch felt, in spite of everything. She pressed her leg further into you and you gasped. She took the opportunity to slide her tongue into your mouth and you finally melted.

She let your wrists go and you grabbed the back of her head and the fabric of her shirt. She moaned as you kissed her back. She sucked your tongue down for as long as she could.

“Good pet,” Rio husked when you two broke apart.

You couldn’t decide if you wanted to cry, hit her, or kiss her again. Maybe all three.

Rio saw the emotions brewing in your eyes. She gently brushed some of your hair back. “Oh sweetheart,”

You wanted to bat her hand away, but you also wanted her to pet you until the end of time.

“Daddy didn’t take very good care of you did she? Can she make it up to you?”

“Are you still with Agatha?”

“It’s…complicated with me and Agatha.”

“So at any moment you could drop me again? Disappear off the face of the earth?”

“No baby, never again. I’m so sorry I hurt you like that sweetheart.”

“Like you really care,”:

Rio looked upset now. “Of course I care.”

“Don’t lie to me,” you said, tears filling your eyes.

Rio put a hand around your jaw, forcing you to look into her eye, “I’m not lying, pet. I’ve always cared about you, always will.”

“Not more than you care about Agatha Harkness.”

Rio covered your mouth. “Enough, pet.” Her other hand skillfully undid your pants, reaching to find you soaked through your briefs.

“Mmmph,” you tried to protest against her hand.

“Ssshhh, pet. No more talking, no more thinking. It’s all out of your hands now.”

You felt warmth spread through you. You felt your head go fuzzy.

“Good pet, just let Daddy take care of you. I’ve got you. We’ll figure it all out, pet.” She slipped her fingers into your underwear, rubbing deft circles on your clit.

She held you up as your knees started to give out. How was she so strong?

“I know baby, I know how you love how my fingers rub you just right,” she removed her hand from your mouth, “tell me you love it,” she demanded.

You glared at her defiantly.

She sunk her fingernails into your hip, eliciting a whimper from you, “do as I say, and I’ll make you feel so good, I’ll take such good care of you. Just like I used to, I know what you need baby.” Her fingers slowed down, the edge you were building towards dissipating.

You cried as you told her “I love your fingers Daddy… I-I missed you,”

“There’s my good pet. So good for me baby.” Rio kissed away your tears and sped her fingers back up. Every circle of her fingers building you up.

Your breathing grew ragged, your body tensed up.

“Cum for Daddy baby, let go for me, unravel for me. I’ll put you back together, I promise.”

You couldn’t fight the orgasm as it wracked through you. Rio’s finger’s didn’t waver as she helped you ride it out. She kissed your neck, sucking big purple marks onto it. You would be hers again, all hers, you may as well start looking like it now.

“Fuck Rio.” You said breathlessly.

“Shh I know baby.” Rio led you over to the couch and put your head in her lap. She traced your cheek and petted your hair. “I got you, you’re safe.”

“Stay. Please stay Rio.” You pleaded, beyond caring about sounding pathetic.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Rio assured you. Not tonight anyway, she thought to herself.

You clung to her the rest of the night, all the way to bedtime. She cooed at you and petted you until you fell asleep. When you were soundly asleep Rio got a text on her phone.

—

Agatha <3: How’d it go tonight?

Rio: I’d call this part of the plan a success.

Agatha <3: Good, good, can’t wait till they’re ready to be shared.

—

Rio smiled at the messages and then looked back at your sleeping form, turned away from her.

“It’ll all make sense soon, pet,” she whispered before wrapping herself around you and drifting off with her-

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: separation, John being John.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6- part 7 - part 8 - Part 9 - part 10 - part 11 - part 12 - part 13 - part 14

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

“Oh my god i’ve missed you!” your sister says as she gets into your car at the train station and although a piece of home has left it also feels like a piece has come home.

“Thankyou for coming.” you smile pulling her into an uncomfortable hug over the center counsel. 

“Coffee and a good movie that perhaps includes phone time?” she says as you pull away.

“Good god you mastermind.” you two laugh while  backing out of the busy parking lot. 

“So tell me everything, like what the hell this is?” she asks while grabbing the photo strip of you and john you keep on your dash.

“That day we went to the winery and they have a really popular black and white photo booth.” She smiles at the way your eyes light up when speaking about him.

“You complement each other well.” 

“Thank you, you’d love him, maybe when he gets back you could meet him.” The suggestion isn't one you'd ever see yourself making again after your last embarrassment of a boyfriend.

“Of course.” she says with a soft smile.

—-----------------------

“Do you think she’s okay?” John asks Simon who sits next to him on the foreign base.

“I do.” 

“I wish I could call her already, just to be sure and shake this feeling.” He was told calls weren't permitted until clearance that the location they’re at is secured.

“Captain, she can handle herself, she's going to be fine and if this goes to plan we’ll be back in no time.” John just sighs, his breath making a cloud into the cold air. By no time Simon means a month, a whole thirty days without you, he might just die from heartbreak. 

“You think you'll marry her?” Simon has always been one for deep conversation but it’s always random and spontaneous.

“Jesus son it hasn't even been seven months.” John says with an awkward laugh knowing he has an answer to the question.

“That's not what I asked the captain.” Simon replies.

“I'd be lucky to, I'd give everything to make that woman my wife, it’s just too soon, I don’t want to scare her off.” he says with a hopeless sigh.

“Time is an illusion, captain, don't wait forever.” 

“What are you, A fucking poet?”

“Yeah.” They both laugh as Simon opens a pack of cigarettes offering one to John and grabs one from the pack for himself. 

“Like I said if I'm lucky.” 

“I think the perfect woman falling into your hands proves you're as lucky as it gets, i mean look at those idiots.”he says gesturing towards johnny and gaz who arm wrestle on a wobbly table.

“You're right.” 

—----------------

The days have been stretched long, you think to yourself. It was good though, the distractions of shopping and hanging with your sister was nice and relieving but now it's four in the morning and she's fast asleep beside you and your eyes won't even shut for more than five minutes before the anxiety becomes too much.

It's been a long time since you’ve had a night like this and you don't wish to have many more but while johns away you most likely will. 

You get out of bed quietly and head to his room to grab a shirt of his, anything to feel closer. Walking in you realize you and john are very rarely in here and dust collects on the clothing drawer you open.

“I've missed these.” you say pulling your favorite pair of undies from the bottom of his pajama shirt drawer wondering when he could've gotten them then it hits you, these are from the night of your first date, you laugh quietly before putting them back.

You pull the shirt over your head right then and there, discarding the one you had on before, leaving it somewhere on John's floor before heading back to bed.

“Where'd you go?” your sister mumbles, scaring the life out of you.

“John's room real quick sorry for waking you.” you reply in a whisper.

“Yeah I thought a man got into bed with me.” you figure you've become a little blind to how strong his cologne can be and apologize. 

“Night.” you say before sliding under the duvet.

—-------------

“That was close too close, almost got caught.” John says very sternly to his task force who just returned from their first outing in this foreign country.

“But we didn't.” gaz says, and it's true was it close yes but there've been many other occasions just like it.

“But we were close!” The captain's booming voice makes them all fall silent.

“Next time I say to pull away you listen, do you understand, let me expect more from you.” he pointed at simon.

“Understood.” he says with a nod. 

“I'll see you all in the morning.” the captain says before walking away and into his tent. The boys all spare eachother side glances before Johnny starts.

“He needs to get laid immediately.” 

“He just has something to live for now I think and it's scaring him.” the ghost replies and it's troubling him, because although he understands his captain has to get his emotions under control before this mission blows up in their faces.

“Go talk to him Lt.” Gaz says pointing towards where the silhouette of John is visible through the tarp of his tent. Simon gets up without another word walking to the tent asking if he could open it.

“What do you want?” John says to him, still agitated.

“Captain i understand your emotions are high right now you miss her and you're not allowed to call yet but understand we are soldier and as a team we understand each other-”

“I'm captain and I'm glad you understand each other but it's my job to understand the situation.” 

“You're trying to understand the situation here and at home though, and it's going to get us killed.” Simon says before leaving. John realizes then he has had his mind in two places and he can't afford that. Swallowing his pride he approaches the team who's still sitting where he left them.

“I apologize for my outburst, let's reread some files and figure out an action plan for tomorrow.” 

—-------------

It's been nearly a week and not a sound from John, you're worried sick and there's nothing anyone can do about it. Your sister has a life to return to and you'll be alone with these thoughts for however long.

“Alright babe till next time.” she says hopping out of your car back at the same spot you picked her up from. You get out to help her get her extra bags that she acquired from shopping. 

“I love you, call me when you get home.” you say giving her a big hug trying not to cry.

“Will do, love you.” you watch her board before leaving. You're back home before you know it, getting back basically on autopilot.. You decide to call it a night at six, the emotional baggage of the day and the possibility of going another day without speaking to John is enough to get you to sleep heavily. 

And sure enough not only another day passes with no contact but another week goes by.

—------------

“Good job out there today, that was beyond successful.” John says, patting everyone on the back as they all file back into their temporary base.

“Hey captain, have you spoken to the little lass?” he was cleared his fifth day here to call home but simply hasn't.

“No I haven't.” 

“Why not?” it takes soap by surprise, the captain went from being worried sick about you to not even mentioning your name.

“It's a distraction I can't handle right now.” Simon's ears pick up on this and he just shakes his head in disappointment, that man only ever hears what he wants to. 

“Okay, she probably misses you though.” soap continues.

“Don't johnny.” the captain demands sternly leaving him to just walk away.

John misses you he does, so much so it makes him sick but he can't afford to think about you more than a little before it consumes his thoughts, what're you doing?Where are you?How are you?It's all too much.

He stares at the phone he was issued long enough to the point where he picks it up and dials your number and of course you answer first ring.

“John, good god hon i've missed you.” he doesn't say anything just listens to your voice fill his ears.

“John hello you there.” he stays silent trying to hold in this rush of sadness he hadn't expected.

“Johnnnnnn hello, i think your connection is bad or maybe it's mine.” he feels guilty for doing this to you, just like he gets the comfort of hearing you again you deserve that too but he just can't bring himself to speak, so he hangs up and sets the phone down leaving his tent to drown himself in work and whatever else there is to do.

—------------

The confusion and uncertainty that followed with the click of the phone was immense but there were no tears left to cry by now. You've just accepted the fact that he couldn't talk right now reminding yourself that you knew what you were getting into when he asked you to be his girlfriend or as he says it his partner.

—------------

Another week, then another passes

“He hasn't called, I'm just worried.” you say while on facetime as you fold laundry.

“Maybe it isn't allowed.” she says trying to comfort you by making that stupid face people make when they don't know what to say.

“But he told me he could, so I just don't get what changed you know, but maybe you're right, I just miss him.” 

“And that's okay, it's healthy.” Since she's left, her phone is full with nothing but you and your rants about life, your day, how much you miss john.

“How long has it been now?” 

“Four weeks going on five.” you sigh while getting up to put some clothes away in your closet.

“Well he'll be back soon hopefully, I got to go when my break is over.” she says while blowing you a kiss through the phone.

“Okay bye.” —--------------

You're woken up at four in the morning the next night from your phone buzzing under your pillow, excitedly thinking  it's John. You quickly grab it looking at the number and although it's similar in area code some numbers are different but nonetheless you answer.

“Hello.”

“Hey it's Johnny we’ve met. I'm a friend of johns.” soap says into the phone simon and gaz next to him listening.

“Hey is everything okay, is john okay?” you say in a bit of a panic.

“Yes yeah everythings okay we’re or I’m just calling to see how you are, make sure you're okay?”

“Yeah I'm fine are you?” You say a little mind boggled that Johnny is calling you before your partner.

“Yeah I’m well actually.” He says as if this is casual conversation.

“Johnny, why isn’t John the one calling me?” You finally ask, he doesn’t know what to say he looks at the two other men who shrug and are obviously thinking of what to say. 

“I don’t know.” Gaz rolls his eyes and Simon pushes the side of Johnny's head at the obvious lie.

“Oh okay. If you can tell him I miss him and that I love him.” All their heads fall into their hands as the choke in your words is obvious.

“I will.” 

“Is he avoiding me?” This hadn’t even been a possibility in your mind until right now.

“No, I'm sure he’s just um he’s just busy.” They hear the captain tent start to unzip.

“Okay lass got to go stay safe and do not ever tell the captain about this.” He says before hanging up without another word.

—————

“Who were you talking to?” The captain mindlessly asks as he approaches them sitting down beside Johnny. 

“A little lass I met not too long ago.” Not a lie but not the truth.

“Okay, anyways Tomorrow should be our last day. We've got to secure one more piece of information then we’re out of here.” 

“Excited to get home?” Gaz asks.

“Yeah but I’ll probably stay at the base a little longer to do these files.” 

“Why?” Simon questions, wondering what childish excuse his captain will come up with. 

“I’ll be distracted at home.” Simon stands without another word leaving into his own tent.

“What’s his deal?” The captain asks the other two remaining.

“Just being himself.” The captain nods even though there’s definitely more to it. 

——————-

Thank you for reading, comments and reposts are immensely appreciated<3

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[ao3-rex1223]

𝕿𝖊𝖊𝖙𝖍 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕿𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖚𝖊𝖘

Pairing: Werewolf!Leon x fem!reader

Tags: Pheromones, monster fucking, knotting, breeding, mating for life, slightly dubious consent (reader is into it), pussy eating, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, implied impregnation.

Summary: You and your friend Micah venture with a mysterious man, Leon, in the woods to look for a werewolf, unaware that Leon is the very creature you're hunting. Leon takes a liking to you and makes sure you want to stay with him.

“C’mon, don’t tell me you're scared,” your friend Micah taunts. He looks down on you with crossed arms, his smirk daring you to acquiesce to his challenge. Your friends, all sitting in the living room of your shared house, show various expressions, ranging from annoyance to copies of Micah’s confident stare. 

“There’s no such thing as werewolves, Micah! That’s ridiculous!” you defend yourself, leaning forward in your seat and glaring at his audacity. What is he; a child?

“Where’s your Halloween spirit, wussy?” Micah fires back. “And who says there’s no such thing as werewolves? The stories about them have been around for hundreds of years. They wouldn’t be so popular if there wasn’t some truth to them,” he rationalized. “I even know a guy who can tell us all about ‘em!” Micah gestures for the door. “So, come on, fraidy cat! Let’s go!”

You roll your eyes hard, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. You gracefully rise from your spot on the couch. “Fine, I’ll go if you shut up after this. And when I prove you wrong, I’m publishing an article about it in the university paper with a giant picture of your shocked, stupid face!”

Micah smirks with an air of victory. You both hop in his pick-up, bound for the edge of the city where there’s a dense forest. As you pull off of the road and onto the mixture of dirt and grass, the car lights illuminate a man standing near the woods. He’s a tall, thickly built blonde, maybe only a couple years older than you and your roommates. He wears a dark gray T-shirt and cargo pants, leaning leisurely against a tree. He watches you and Micah curiously. The man makes you uneasy, at best. Something tells you that you shouldn’t trust him. As soon as you step out of Micah’s truck, the man’s eyes snap to you, but not in the way that one takes in the arrival of a new person…he looks at you like he’s been searching for you, waiting for you for months…years…centuries. Those eyes…those intense eyes look into your very soul. 

“Micah…I think we should leave…” you whisper, the entirety of this mystery man's existence unsettling you. 

“Don't be ridiculous,” Micah scolds, throwing your earlier insult to him right back in your face.

“Please Micah! This place is creeping me out!” Well, not the place so much as the inhabitant.

“Hey, Leon!” Micah shouts, ignoring your complaints. You watch as he casually approaches the man who finally turns his glance to Micah, with none of the reverence he gave you. He looks at Micah like it's a chore. “Micah,” the man greets noncommittally with a baritone voice, smooth as butter. His eyes return to you, like you're a precious piece of art he simply enjoys viewing. You find yourself getting a bit lost in his eyes then quickly shake your head and look away.

You hear Micah call your name. “This is Leon, our town’s foremost werewolf expert!”

A devilish smirk slowly creeps across Leon's face as he hears Micah’s words. “Oh no, I just read a lot of crap online,” he jokes, his gaze never leaving you. 

“Thanks for meeting us here,” Micah adds. He holds out his hand for Leon to shake. Leon finally turns his head to face Micah and begrudgingly returns the handshake with a forced smile. 

“I had nothing else going on,” Leon replies and turns to face you. Still addressing Micah, he asks, “Who's your gorgeous friend?”

Micah laughs as if he thought Leon was making fun of you by calling you ‘gorgeous’. Leon shoots him a quick and annoyed, almost offended, glance before approaching you. “What's your name, sweetheart?” He gently lifts your hand and kisses your knuckles.

You feel your stomach fill with butterflies and somehow, you're embarrassed to admit, your pussy begins to heat up and tingle, slick starting to trickle into your panties. With a hard swallow, you open your mouth to answer him when Micah interrupts and tells Leon your name himself. Leon narrows his eyes and glares at Micah, still holding your hand tenderly in his. He turns back to you and purrs your name. “Beautiful.”

“Hey, we gonna look for some werewolves or not?” Micah asks impatiently. His frustrated stare lingers on your and Leon’s joined hands. “I didn't bring her here so you could gawk at her!”

Leon snorts, glaring at Micah as if he’s thoroughly surprised by his audacity. We should leave, you think to yourself. Something about this guy seems dangerous…

After the tense exchange between Micah and Leon, the three of you set off into the forest, Leon having positioned himself strategically between you and Micah. While you venture forward, Leon recounts his vast knowledge about local werewolf legend. “The one here is the son of the original werewolf in this area. And he wasn’t always a beast…he was once only a man. He was cursed by witches who inhabited this area…you know, before all the Salem Witch Trial stuff.” He chuckles almost with a hint of satisfaction that so many women were killed. What’s wrong with this guy? You ask yourself. He continues, “But when you’re the son of a werewolf, you don’t have all of the power and glory when you’re born…you have to earn your stripes, so to speak,” he explains. You notice that all this time, Leon has been talking to you and barely acknowledging Micah who walks silently beside. 

“How?” you ask, surprised by your sudden question. You catch yourself feeling a little enthralled. 

He smirks, pleased by your interest. He leans in so only you can hear and whispers, “Mating.”

Your eyes widen a bit as the comment hits you way harder than you would have thought. Your heart races, your body tingles, and your cunt warms and leaks slick. What is happening to me?

Leon straightens once more and continues on, “Once a werewolf pup grows up and finds his mate, he achieves his full potential; a potent motivator to breed, if you will. As if there wasn't already enough.” His eyes bore into yours, locking your gazes together; you couldn’t look away if you wanted to…

“So where do we find this guy? I gotta meet him!” Micah chimes in enthusiastically. 

Leon snorts with a light smirk and subtle eyeroll. “No one has actually seen him…but there are a few reports every year of hikers mysteriously going missing. They say it’s the work of the beast sating his hunger for human flesh…”

Micah huffs out a proud laugh. “I knew it!”

“Like that’s proof!” you shout back at Micah in response with your nose upturned. 

Micah leans in to Leon, who still looks thoroughly annoyed by Micah’s mere presence, and whispers, “She’s a non-believer.”

“Is that so?” Leon turns to you and murmurs, “You don’t have to believe it for it to be true, sweetheart.” Another shiver runs down your spine, drawing you to him even more. 

It’s like every time he looks at you, you feel this magnetic pull towards him get stronger and stronger. Your mind starts to swirl with images of his hands all over you, touching and caressing your curves, cupping your breasts, and fingering your tight cunt. You swallow hard and hope he can’t see you blush. “If we’re lucky, we’ll come across his cabin…I’ve seen it before myself…but never the beast.”

“Have you been inside?” you ask, your eyes glued to his handsome, chiseled face.

“Sure, I have,” he confirms. He lifts his hand to trail a finger gently along your jawline. A shiver runs through you at his touch. “Would you like to?”

“Yes,” you reply as if in a trance. Leon smiles as he leans in, his lips closing the distance from yours. 

“Hey! There’s the cabin!” you hear Micah exclaim happily. The trance breaks at the sudden noise and you move away from Leon. Just then, you swear you hear a low growl coming from him…but you shake your head and chalk it up to the ambience of the forest and the background noise. 

You take a moment to compose yourself and move toward where Micah is standing. “Let's get this over with.” Your eyes find the cabin. It's simple, plain. There's no lights on, so maybe whoever lives there isn't home…or maybe they're asleep. 

“Let's go inside!” Micah starts for the cabin, his steps crunching the leaves underneath his shoes. 

You grab the hood of his sweatshirt and yank him back. “Micah! We are not breaking and entering someone's home!”

“Werewolves don't care about the law!” Micah argues. You give him a dumbfounded stare, wondering if he realizes how ridiculous he sounds. 

“Micah! This goes one of two ways! Either your stupid werewolf theory is true, and you walk into his…lair and he rips your face off! Or, the more likely explanation, it belongs to some hermit who's fed up with society, and you walk in just to get your face blown off by a double barrel shotgun!”

Leon chuckles from behind you. You turn to face him. “What's so funny?” You try to hide how affected you are by his sexy laugh.

He turns to Micah briefly. “You go ahead. There's no one in the cabin. Go poke around.”

“What!?” You reply in disbelief. 

Leon offers you a charming, reassuring smile. “Trust me,” he says, his warm eyes soothing you. Micah begins to walk towards the cabin, but you barely notice as your gaze is locked again with the mysterious man who feels more familiar by the minute. 

“Good girl,” he purrs softly. He reaches out and places his hand on your shoulder, feeling you shiver. His eyes widen just a bit and his smirk grows. “Are you cold, little one?” He gently pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. “C’mere.” His body is warm, warmer than it should be, especially since he's only wearing a T-shirt. 

He nuzzles the crown of your head, carefully taking in your scent. “You smell so good.” His embrace tightens almost imperceptibly. He groans, low and soft, almost a growl and you start to think it really was him a moment ago…

His hands rub your back and his lips begin gently brushing against your temple. He lets out a quiet moan. You feel a soft kiss graze your cheek. You don't hear your own delicate whimper; you're too focused on the rampant tingling and slick cream leaking into your panties. Fuck, no one has made you feel this way in your entire life…which may be why you're still a virgin. For now…the scandalous thought burrows its way into your consciousness. Lying with this man feels less like a strange, crazy idea and more like a necessity; an inevitably.

Leon chuckles, clearly noticing your reaction, and you can feel him smirking against your supple skin. He plants a few more kisses to your face, each one stoking your desire like a carefully woven spell. Your heart dances in your chest, aching to jump out of your throat. His lips finally find yours and with his tender kiss, your knees nearly buckle. The molding of your lips against his heats up and turns more feral; before you know it, you're pinned against a tree with his hot body covering yours and your arms firmly around his neck. The night is chilly and yet you're on fire! You lose track of the noises you're making, lost in the haze of his dizzying aura. His tongue slides into your mouth, making you gasp slightly. You can feel the beginnings of his thick cock hardening, and you can tell that if things go well tonight, he's going to split you in half! Somehow, that doesn't deter you, though. This man will swallow you whole and you'll let him with a big grin on your face. 

“Guys there's nothing in there!” You hear Micah shout from near the cabin. You hear Leon mutter ‘fuck’, then he begrudgingly releases you. Micah trots over to you two, looking disappointed. “It's just a boring, old hunter’s cabin.” He sighs heavily. “You were right,” he admits to you. “Let's head home.”

No!

You don't want to leave!

“Um, you go ahead…I'll catch a ride back with Leon…” you say. Micah quirks a brow at you. 

“What?” He asks. “You didn't even want to come out here in the first place.”

“I'm more than happy to return her home later,” Leon chimes in. 

Micah looks unsettled, distrusting. He reaches for your arm to try and lead you away. Leon steps in front of you, unwilling to let Micah take you from him. “I believe she said she wants to stay with me.” Leon's eyes, hardened and threatening, bore into Micah who backs away. He watches your expression which only supports Leon’s claim. 

“Well…okay, I guess…be careful, okay?” Micah replies before turning to head to his car. You nod, having no doubt in your mind that you're safe with Leon.

Leon turns to face you, his eyes full of hunger. “Let's get you inside where it’s warmer, yeah?” He wraps his arm around you and guides you to the cabin. 

Puzzled, you turn to him and ask, “wait…why are we…?”

He smirks and chuckles. “It's my cabin, sweetheart.” He opens the door leading you inside. It's a simple cabin, a nice soft couch, a fireplace, a full kitchen, and a hallway that you assume leads to a bedroom and bathroom. 

“Why didn't you just tell Micah that?”

“Because I wanted to be alone with you,” he reveals as nonchalantly as one might discuss the weather. He steps toward the mantle and lights the fire to warm the cabin. There's something soothing about the warmth that comes from a genuine fire. It's as though it warms your soul as well as your body.

Leon returns to you and guides you to the couch. He wraps his arm around you once more, continuing where you left off in the woods. His lips find your delicate neck and the lustful tingles begin to swirl inside you once more. 

“I still don't understand…why do you live out here in the woods by yourself?” you ask, your brain getting fuzzy as arousal starts to overtake your logical reasoning. 

Leon pauses his sensual ministrations. He smirks, chuckling somewhat maniacally. “My father built this cabin…no one wants to live in town with a monster.” He resumes his licking and sucking of your neck. His palm reaches up to cup your breast. 

You force a laugh, thinking he's just trying to be funny. “Oh yeah, I forgot, you and Micah are both into the whole werewolf thing.” A moan escapes your lips as his hand palms your plushy mound.

He pulls back to look into your eyes, his groping hand sliding back to your waist. “It's true, sweetheart. The creature you were both looking for tonight is none other than me.” His pupils seem to glow an ominous shade of gold, but you explain it away by attributing it to the glow of the fireplace. 

“Haha, very funny.”

“I'm not joking,” he replies somewhat darkly.

“Oh c'mon, Leon…werewolves aren't real.” You scoff, thinking he's just trying to scare you. 

He pulls away from you and stands. “I guess I should bring you back home then.”

“Wait what? I-I don't want to leave yet…” you sit on the couch, shocked. 

“I'm not going to mate with you if you won't even listen to me. It'd be far too traumatic for you.”

“Leon, what are you talking about? It's just sex…sure I've never done it before but…I still want to…with you…”

“It's not just sex. It's mating,” he argues, “if we do this, I get my full powers. I'll gain the ability to shift into a full werewolf whenever there's a full moon.”

“Leon, this is-”

“Crazy?” he asks sarcastically, turning to stare into your eyes. “Tell me, do you normally jump into bed with guys you just met?”

You recoil slightly from his risque question. “No, never.”

“Then why are you here with me now?” He asks, obviously trying to lead you to a particular conclusion.

His challenge stumps you. “I-” You pause, trying to rationalize why you're so eager to offer your untouched body to this man you met mere hours ago. “I don't know…”

“Pheromones, sweetheart. Werewolf pheromones,” he explains. At your curious expression he continues, “I release pheromones to attract a mate. I only needed a few hours to let them work.”

“So…I'm like…drugged into wanting you?” You start to feel tricked. 

“Not exactly. The pheromones only decrease your inhibitions, letting you pursue what you truly want. Believe me sweetheart, you want me just as much as I want you.”

His explanation makes sense and yet still sounds crazy…but how else can you explain how badly you want him even though you just met!?

“So…why can we just…you know?”

“Oh, we can…but you need to understand what's going to happen when we do.”

You stare at him, waiting for his explanation. 

“Werewolves mate for life. If we do this, you're mine. Forever. I'll breed you until it takes. I want a lot of pups from you.”

His words hit you like a blow to the head. Though you don't quite believe him, you can tell he's as serious as a heart attack. “C'mon Leon you don't really believe-”

“Hey, if you don't believe me, you can walk away now, I won't stop you,” he explains with a shrug. 

You know you should walk away; this is all crazy! Yet, you can't. There's nowhere you want to be but here. It's like some otherworldly pull keeps you from running. You stay rooted in your place on the couch, refusing to leave. 

Leon smirks and rejoins you on the couch. He kisses you possessively. “As soon as I'm inside you, I'll change. Don't let it scare you. I promise, I will never hurt you.” He nibbles on your lip and his hand resumes its uninhibited exploration. “Are you truly a virgin, little one?” he purrs. 

It's all you can do to answer through the mind numbing pleasure he's making you feel with every touch. You nod with an affirmative moan. 

“Perfect. Then our bond will be even stronger.” He smiles almost victoriously, thrilled by your admission. His hungry grin only grows as he begins removing your clothes. “Don't need these.” His lips and teeth take in every inch of your body, little by little. Each stiff peak of your breasts and each luscious curve of your waist meets his hot mouth in pleasure inducing suction and nibbling. Your mouth runs dry as you writhe beneath him, never wanting to leave his arms. 

His torturous kisses move to your inner thighs and he takes in your intoxicating scent. “Mine,” he growls, staring into your eyes as his lips descend on your dripping wet cunt. Pleasure surges through you, dowsing your nerves with delightful tingles. His tongue swirls around your clit, caressing it, mapping out each slippery centimeter of your delicious sex. He keeps his gaze locked with yours until the salivating taste of you pushes him into a frenzy. His lids close and he moans as he continues to eat you out. 

You're writhing in ecstasy, breaths hot and ragged as his masterful tongue devours you. He hikes your legs over his shoulders as your contortions become more erratic so he can hold you in place. He's not one to let his meal escape. His tongue slips inside your tight, virgin channel, coaxing even more unholy noises from your throat. He's got you, hook, line, and sinker. You're in deep and you have no desire to get out. 

“Cum for me, little mate,” he purrs. His tongue returns to your clit as he slips two fingers inside your tight hole. Panting, you let out a hungry wail, a cry of passionate euphoria. The band of hot arousal inside you snaps, your walls clamping down on the fingers inside you.

Leon continues to work you through your climax, stroking that sensitive spot in your vault. You feel a sudden rush of fluid from your oversensitive entrance, a complete shock to you. 

“That's it, my pet,” Leon growls and laps up your essence like it's from the fountain of youth. His shoulders keep your legs high and thus your body pinned as you ride out the aftershocks. When the last wave subsides, you collapse onto the couch, limp but perfectly satisfied. “We're gonna need more space for what comes next…” Leon announces cryptically. He lifts you into his arms and carries you to his bedroom. He manhandles you onto his large bed, on your stomach. He disrobes, all while staring hungrily at your naked form. He growls in approval. “So fucking perfect. My little mate. Gonna breed you now.” He crawls in bed behind you, lifts your hips into the air, and gently rubs your ass. You're gushing slick yet again in anticipation, your desire to carry his offspring as strong as his. 

“Please Leon…breed me…” you beg, your mind complete mush at this moment. 

Leon groans and grips his cock, prodding the tip against your slick heat. Your heart pounds in your chest as he presses slowly inside, the burning sensation you feel a delicious pain. He pushes further, stretching you, molding you to fit his massive girth. You let out a long, desperate moan and rock your hips back to take more of him inside you.

He grips your hips tight and slides in the rest of the way, his hips against your ass. You feel a sudden surge in heat coming from his body. He groans again, this time sounding strained as well as aroused. His growls become deeper, more gruff and you feel his length inside you shifting…changing. It grows even thicker and longer, the tip crushed against your cervix. “L-Leon…what's happening?” You turn your head, eyes blurry but perceptive enough to see none other than a massive furry beast looming over you, it's massive cock buried inside you. “Oh my God…” you whimper, breath taken away. Your first instinct is to scream, but a sudden feeling of peace and acceptance washes over you. It's Leon…your Leon. You know it is. You can see it in his eyes. 

You nod subtly, granting him permission to continue. His long, hairy claws wrap around your waist as he begins to thrust hard inside you. He leans down, growling possessively. He licks your neck then bites gently, enough to leave a mark but not enough to break skin. Your body feels so full. You drop your head down to gaze at your belly, seeing the bulge that forms each time he fills you. The sight makes you moan louder. The hot juices from your stretched sex coat his red, throbbing cock. Your eyes widen when you see a knot forming at the base of his length, fat, thick. You resume rocking your hips back against his thrusts, fucking yourself on his cock as much as he is you.

His movements become more frenzied and you know he's close. His grip on your hips tightens further, claws digging into your flesh. The knot, fully inflated, knocks on the entrance to your quivering pussy. Each time making you moan and beg for it. “Please Leon…fuck…knot me!”

With a loud, wall shaking howl, his knot breeches your cunt, locking you together. The pressure, combined with his cock stroking your g-spot, sends you spiraling again, cumming hard and screaming his name. He stills inside you, his cock buried deep, knot locked in place. You feel the hot jets of his cum filling you up, so much so it leaks around him. 

Dizzy from your shared orgasm, you fall limp on the bed, exhausted but fulfilled beyond measure. Leon lowers himself on his forearms, gently pressing his warm fur to your back. He licks your neck tenderly, soft howls filling the room. 

It's a seemingly endless night, Leon breeding you over and over and over. When the sun begins to rise and his werewolf form fades, he cradles your exhausted body in his arms, human hands coming to rest over your stomach, wishful thinking for your fertile womb. “Mine,” he purrs again.

[gojo-enthusiast]

Arranged Marriage — Hiromi Higuruma

series master list

cw: smut | 18+

Kissing is Okay?

Month one was completed, you both had now been sleeping together in the same bed for 1 week now, and now have fallen into a nice little routine. You both would sit in the bed, as you read, and he would listen, or you two would put on a movie, or show. 

“Whatcha wanna watch?” Hiromi said as you were already snuggled in the sheets. “I actually want to do something else.” You said as he got in the bed, and snuggled close to you. The difference between you and Hiromi, is Hiromi has no filter, he would be the one to suggest anything intimate, with a straight face, but his ears would burn red, while you were more on the modest side, and would suggest innocent things.

“What is that?” Hiromi questioned. “Can w-we kiss? If not... It's okay, I just thought that maybe...” You stammered, feeling yourself growing red and shy, you turned to look at him, the silence deafening. Hiromi’s eyes got big with shock— “What?” He nearly bursted in shock. “Don’t look at me like I’m some baby, I know about kissing and stuff like that…" You rolled your eyes, now extremely embarrassed, and feeling rejected.

"I mean I am majoring in Literature.” You scoffed, about to turn over. “Just kissing?” He questioned. “...Yes- if... that's okay?" You lightly giggled, squeezing his nose. “Okay.” He said as he pulled your waist to him, making you flush against himself. 

Your breath hitched, realizing this was actually your first time. “Hiromi.” You whispered, your eyes looking into his. If it weren’t for the moon peeking through, you wouldn’t have been able to see his expressions, “Yeah?” — “I have… I actually… Well…” you stutter trying to find your words. “I know.” He pecked your nose. “I’ll lead.” He smiled, as he began kissing your cheek, then your forehead, then your nose, then your chin, putting his hand on your chin, he brought it down, his lips grazing yours, and he looked into your eyes, then both of you closing them at the same time, he finally kissed you, burying his hands into your hair on the side and back of your head.

He was slow at first, letting you ease yourself into it. After about 10 minutes, you felt him almost attack you in kissing, he began pushing his tongue into your mouth, and he gripped your waist, pulling you ungodly closer. “Fuck.” He groaned into your mouth, as you moaned into his. He was ravishing your lips, making you breathless— he kept up with the passionate lacing of your lips, pushing his tongue in once again, tasting you. “H-hiromi.” You moaned, into his mouth, as his thick thigh was in-between your legs, intertwining with your legs. You felt something in your core, heat up and becoming needy, you continued to let him ravish you, any bit of innocence you once had, was being stripped away with his tongue. Stripping down your defenses, you began to rock your hips into his thigh, trying to get some relief in your aching heat. “Fuck, if you do that, I'm gonna fuckin' bust.” He groaned as his manhood was achingly hard. “It feels good.” You moan, latching your lips back onto his, now pushing your tongue into his mouth, making him groan into your mouth.

“Suck on my tongue.” He groaned, you looked at him bewildered. “What?” You gulped. “Do it.” He said as he pulled your head back to his, kissing you again. You did just as he commanded you, sucking on his tongue, then pulling away, seeing his eyes dripping in lust. He needed more, he wanted more, it was taking every bit of him to restrain his need to be inside of a cunt he has yet to feel—

“I need you.” He said into your ear. “We don’t have to go all the way, just… Let me touch you." He groaned, as he was grinding against you. “Okay.” You moaned, as his hands that were once on your waist, they were now on snaking up your shirt, to your perky breast. “Ah—“ You moaned out. You felt your shirt being taken off of you, and his lips attaching to your nipple in an instant. “Hiro—“ You moaned loudly, as you rubbed your needy cunt on his thigh. “Fuck—“ He groaned into your breast. “Sit— sit on my face.” He groaned, pulling you on top of him. “What?” You blushed brightly. “Please, fuck, I need to taste you.” He was pleading with you at this point, this man was foaming at the mouth on how much he needed you. 

You looked at him with your innocent green eyes, and you gulped, "That... That doesn't sound safe..." You blushed brightly, you had read in books of what he was talking about, but now that you are straddled on this mans lap, your head was thoughtless. "It is safe..." He groaned, as he lightly thrusted his hips into your clothes core, making you moan out. "Are-are you sure?" You questioned, covering your breast with your arms. "So safe, I'll tap your thigh like this... see... if I tap three times, that means to get up... I promise you I won't need you too though... I promise..." he pleaded, hearing your concerns but then reassuring you that it was okay... You looked at him, nervous but then nodding.

You felt him tug at your panties, pulling them down, then slipping them off your ankles, bringing the wet fabric to his nose. “Hiromi!” You yelped in embarrassment. “You smell delicious my dear.” He groaned, pulling you up to him. He laid back, his head on the pillow, as you needy core was above his mouth, you knew a lot about sex, but you didn’t think this would be something you two would ever do, this was still so new.

He got tired of your reluctance, that he finally pulled your hips down, and your pussy right into his mouth. He began lapping his tongue all around your burning heat, taking in your sweet taste. “Shit.” You moan out, throwing your head back, while you gripped the head board. You felt him tug at one of your arms, pulling it to his head, lacing your hands into his hair. “Ride my face baby. Like you did my thigh.” He moaned as he sloppily made out with your cunt. You were in pure ecstasy— you simply wanted to innocently kiss him, but it led to him making out with your cunt. This man was much more vulgar than you expected, after this, he was going to be the biggest simp he ever imagined, the great bachelor Hiromi Higuruma was about to be wrapped around your finger, you were now his Queen, and he was your loyal subject. 

You kept rocking your hips, as his tongue fucked your hole, and his nose was on your clit. “I- feel weird.” You moaned out, trying to lift your hips off of him, but he only held onto you, feeling your clit fluttering, and your hole tightening. “Cum for me baby.” He moaned into your cunt, while his cock was on the verge of busting. You felt something in your stomach twisting and stretching, until you felt yourself come undone, completely snapping. Your body weakened, as you rode out your orgasm. Your breath was heavy, and you finally lifted yourself off of him, sitting on his hips. “Stay right there.” He urged you, as he grasped his cock from his boxers, and started to jerk himself off. “Fuck.” He groaned, as his licked your essence off his lips, and wiping his chin. “You look good like that.” You said into his ear, now planting kisses on his neck, and sucking lightly, something you learned in a book.

“You minx.” He hisses, as he let go of his cock, and slapped your ass. You moaned into his ear, feeling your core opening, wanting him to fill you. “Put it in.” You moaned into his mouth, as you kissed him. You were surprised by your own boldness, you felt this intense sense of peace, and overwhelming love for a man you were newly married to.

“Not yet baby, not yet.” He groaned, as he fisted his cock once more. “Please.” You groaned, as you scooted your cunt down to his cock, feeling against your wetness. “Baby slow down.” He gasped, he pulled his hand off of his cock, trying to calm you. Rubbing the sides of your arms, cooing you to be patient, and that he would finish you off with his fingers.

“No, I want it.” You moaned, as you brought your core to this tip of his cock, and sat down on it, letting it sink deep deep into you. You felt the pain of the stretch, but you were so wet, and aroused, that you didn’t care of the stretch, you sat upright, as your core had swallowed him whole. He looked at you in amazement, looking down at to where you both were connected, seeing blood at his base, and your eyes sealed shut, while little whimpers left your lips, as you rocked your hips like when you were rubbing against his thigh. “So-So good.” You moaned. He was astounded— “This little innocent thing just sank right onto me… What am I gonna do with you?” He chuckled, as he sat up and sucked on your breast once again— “Lift up a bit, let me help you.” He whispered into your ear. You lifted yourself up, still having his cock in you— You felt him slowly thrust upward, hitting your sweet spot so deliciously. Where did this little creature come from? Hiromi thought to himself. 

One minute you were sitting on his lap, then the next, he had you on your back, your legs wrapping around his lower back, as he sunk his cock deep into once again. “Ah!” You moaned, “Hiromi.” You moaned, as you squeezed your legs harder around his waist, and pulled him down by his neck, planting a kiss on your lips. “I’m gonna cum.” You moan as his hips were brutally ravishing your sweet spot. “Me too baby.” He grunted, looking deep into his eyes, while both of your mouths were open and breathing heavily. 

“Fuck.” He groaned, as he pushed his hand between your legs, rubbing your clit quickly. He’d be damned if he didn’t make sure you were pleased first, and that you were, that string once again snapped, and you squeezed around his cock as you came undone, which only made him come undone with you, milking him dry, you felt thick ropes shoot inside of you, both of you moaning into each others mouth as you latched your lips onto his… It all started with these sweet kisses, now here he is, balls deep inside, spilling everything. 

“Wow.” He said as he took a big breath in the crook of your neck, still inside of you. You were playing with his hair, as he lied there on top of you. 

“Hiromi?” You said after a few minutes of both of you catching your breath. “Hmm?” He hums as he kisses the crook of your neck. 

“I’m falling in love with you… No… I am in love with you.” You said as you continued to play with his hair. You felt his breath come to a halt, and he leaned up looking at you. 

“I’m in love with you too…” He smiled sweetly.

That was how your first kiss went with Hiromi. 

[lighthouseshepard]

some comforting jarthur for @mikonezz ! (:

"Arthur? Arthur, what the fuck? Where did you - Arthur!"

John's voice rings out over the clearing as he comes into view, stumbling over the jut of a tree root well placed to trip him up. He barely manages to catch himself before tumbling to the floor, months of mastering newly human reflexes finally paying off. Cursing, he dusts a scattering of dry leaves from his clothing and focuses anew on the figure standing some small distance away.

"Arthur," he calls again, his tone an impatient rumble. "What the hell are you doing? I've been looking for you for over ten minutes!"

He makes a few hesitant shuffles toward him, glancing down for any more wayward branches. The clearing spreads out before him, a gentle unfolding of dry grass stretching in all directions strewn with the remnants of autumn’s crisp decay. Trees tower above them, their branches intermingling in a crossed network of slowly withering leaves fluttering in the breeze, a myriad of orange and brown made stunning in the late afternoon light. Every step crunches beneath him as his feet find the path they’d been traveling along once more. It’s obvious and clumsy, and still the body ahead of him doesn’t turn around.

“Arthur,” he tries, impatience winning out over anything else. “Why did you get so far ahead? You said you were going to go ahead just around the corner and then you were gone. Do you know how hard it is to find fucking anything in this forest? I could have lost you, I… Arthur?”

Arthur turns. The smile he offers John, flickering and lackluster on his lips, doesn’t quite reach his eyes. With a sense of trepidation John slows, coming to a halt before crossing the final few feet.

“Hey, John,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you behind.”

“Well, you did,” John grumbles, eyeing him carefully. “You have no idea how to get back without me. Why did you take off like that?”

Arthur swallows. His head dips down, chin bumping his chest. Something heavy sits in the line of his shoulders, an indecipherable weight hanging off his silhouette like a stone skipped and sunk into the sea. John studies the windswept tangles of his auburn hair, the wrinkled state of his shirt. What creases beneath his eyes appeared that morning were deeper, half moons faint and tender as a bruise which refused to heal.

“Sorry,” he mumbles again. “Didn’t realize. I got a bit lost in my own thoughts.”

John’s irritation dissipates in the breeze winding delicately across the clearing. Nature’s decomposition carried a strange scent. Like hay, he thought, dry and slightly sweet. He breathes it in, closing what gap remained. Arthur still wasn’t facing him, his gaze blank and distant as he stares sightlessly at a point by John’s elbow.

“Arthur?” John asks. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Arthur.”

“I said it’s nothing, John,” he snaps. His palm grips the end of the cane held firmly in one hand, braced in the earth by his feet. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I walked off, alright? Jesus Christ, can we just go back now?”

“No.” John crosses stubborn arms over his broad chest. “Not until you tell me why you decided you wanted to disappear in a wood you can’t see.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

He breaks off, exhaling sharply. “Like I said. I… wasn’t paying attention. Didn’t realize.”

“You haven’t been paying attention all day,” John points out. “You’ve been distracted since the sun rose, Arthur. I’ve been talking to a wall since you woke up.”

“Fucking forgive me for being unfocused,” he mutters, “like I can’t catch a goddamned break from you or anyone else.”

“What?” John furrows his brow. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head.” Let’s head back.”

“I don’t want to head back. Would you just listen to me? We’re not going anywhere until you-”

“Don’t touch me!”

Arthur’s exclamation echoes around them. He rips his arm out of John’s attempted grasp, twisting to the right and nearly falling as he had only minutes ago. The cane clatters to the leaves below, its muted thump the only sound accompanying the rolling ring of Arthur’s plea as it dwindles into a slow, tense silence.

Leaves rustle softly overhead. John’s arm falls to his side. He refuses to look away, although Arthur was doing all he could to try and pretend he was the only one in the entire forest at that exact moment.

“Arthur,” John says softly. A small spark of frustration flickers to life in his gut, but he tampers it resolutely down. He knew enough by now to tell when such a thing would be useful to him. Clearly, that approach would do neither of them any good. “Talk to me.”

“I,” he starts, barely getting the singular word out. His breath comes unevenly, the rise and fall of his chest beneath his shirt staccato beats along a string of notes gone out of key. “I don’t know what to say, John.”

“Try me.”

He rasps a dry laugh, this one just as unhappy as the last. “Haven’t I confused you enough already?”

John hums. Anything he wanted to say, whatever he thought might work to combat whatever was going on inside Arthur’s head all clamors for his attention at once. He knew him, understood how his mind worked. For a long time he’d been inside it, curled up in scattered pieces behind those eyes while he fought to realize what would make him whole, watching and listening as Arthur’s life fell apart.

Perhaps words weren’t what he needed right now.

“Just talk,” he says simply. “I’m listening. I’ll always listen, Arthur. I want to help.”

Sighing, Arthur finally turns to face him. His expression is weary, loaded with the same tension coiling throughout his thin frame. For a second he seemed as though he were going to move forward, and it would have been so easy then to wrap him up in an embrace. But he stops halfway through, head still facing down. The air between them grows a little colder.

“I’ve always loved that about you,” he murmurs. “The fact you’re so willing to help, even when you’re upset with me.”

“I’m not upset,” John points out, “I’m… worried, Arthur. For the last few days especially you’ve been distant. I’ve tried to give you space, wait it out because I didn’t want to pry, but it’s not getting either of us anywhere.”

“I know, John, I know. I haven’t meant to snap at you, it’s just… “

“Arthur.” John was all but whispering, the name as much of a promise as a prayer in his mouth. “Please. What’s going on?”

“It’s… it’s like,” Arthur says, every syllable punctuated by a tremble he fought to hold back. “Alright, fine. I can’t catch a fucking break, John.”

“What are you talking about?” he asks, forcing himself to stay completely still. Every muscle and length of bone within him yearned to reach out and touch his face, his shoulder, anything to offer what little comfort he could. The privilege of being able to hold that body with flesh and blood of his own was a blessing he’d never grow tired of, and whenever Arthur strayed too far from him the pull of that dissonance stung like a newly reopened wound. But his demand continued to ricochet in the back of his mind: don’t touch me. So he doesn’t.

Arthur lets out a bitter laugh. “Life, John. I’m talking about this, here, with you.”

“What?” John asks hesitantly. He takes an instinctive, rustling step back. Did I… did I do something wrong? Is this about me?”

“No, no!” He glances up wild-eyed, the gold of his gaze wrought with a sudden nervous concern.  “No, John, god. I’m sorry, I phrased that poorly, it’s not about you. It’s… fuck, I’m not making any sense, am I?”

John’s lips thin into a frown. “Not a bit.”

“I’m sorry. Again, it seems - I’ve been saying that a lot today, haven’t I?”

“Could say it a few times more,” John mutters.  

“Yeah, darling. I could.”

John waits. Those eyes find him somehow in their darkness. As exhausted as he was, their color rivaled the soft flame of autumn soaked into every bit of foliage and underbrush around them still clinging to life.

“It’s her, John,” Arthur says after what could have been an eternity or a few elongated seconds. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Oh,” John hums. “Arthur, are you-”

“No, John, don’t.” He wipes the back of his hand across one eye, refusing to acknowledge it. “It’s the weather, I think, or maybe just the way the leaves are turning red around us. She loved fall. I always preferred spring, mind you, but the way she used to talk about it could sway me in a heartbeat. I can’t even see the leaves now, John. All I’m left with is sound and the scent of the season’s… goddamn inevitable decay.”

“I could describe it to you,” John offers quietly. He moves closer, still not giving in to the urge to touch him. “If you wanted.”

“I know,” Arthur sniffs. He lends him a watery smile, tear tracks lining his cheeks. “All I wanted to do, all I’ve wanted for the longest fucking time, was to enjoy this life with you. Ever since the separation I thought I’d finally be able to relax, that we’d be safe-”

“We are safe,” John interjects. “You know that, right?”

He chokes off, heaving an unsteady breath. More salt stains his skin, miniscule rivers winding among the landscape of his scars. Without a second thought John decides to damn his request. With a soft huff of air he pulls him in.

“Sure, John, but my body remembers what it was like. And I can’t shake the feeling some outside force is still trying to fucking pick me apart. It’s like I’m going to spend the rest of my life hopping from one hard thing to the next, never getting a break in between, never knowing what really makes me happy except for you, and Noel and Oscar, the sound of your laughter, the radio you play late at night when we can’t sleep-”

"Wait a second."

"And then I wake up with thoughts like these and it's so fucking hard, John, trying to cling to that happiness -"

“Arthur,” he rumbles, the singular word a slip of velvet draping around them both. Strong arms wrap across Arthur’s back, enveloping him in an embrace that would have left him breathless had he anything left in his lungs to give. He sinks into John, pressing his face into his chest, clinging desperately to him as he’s folded up. Warmth seeps into limbs gone cold and aching from the day’s brisk chill. What music of the forest he’d been paying attention to drift further and further away until all which remained was the melody of John’s heartbeat, steady and assured.  

“Sorry,” Arthur says against him. “I’ve completely ruined our little walk, haven’t I?”

John chuckles, resting his chin atop Arthur’s head. “Oh, I’ve ruined much worse. It’s alright.”

What might have been a muffled laugh wracked through with another sob answers him. John draws him in tighter.

“That’s all I want,” Arthur whispers. “I want to stop feeling as though there’s nothing to look forward to even though I know there is, like the past keeps dogging at my heels with its relentless… emptiness. And I don’t know where to start.”

“It’s going to be fine, Arthur,” he tells him. His breath stirs the ends of his hair, a reassurance in its own right. “I know you… I know we spent a long time climbing out of pit after pit, but there are moments of happiness in between. I don’t know what that looks like for you, but I can help you find them, if you want.”

“Well.” John parts them gently, shifting Arthur reluctantly off him until he could see him properly in the light. Their arms remain around each other, their faces half a foot apart. “Maybe it starts with a walk.”

Arthur sighs, sniffling once more. “Very funny.”

“I’m not joking. I’ve learned a lot from you, Arthur, and what blindsided me in the beginning still strikes me now as something of immense worth. Your resilience, your stubbornness, the way you keep going in the face of impossible odds. Even in the prison pits, there were times where you found reason to laugh. All that suffering, and you kept striving for joy in small moments.”

There is no immediate response. John wonders fleetingly if he had said the wrong thing, and he begins pulling threads from the tangle of his thoughts, searching for anything at all that might right his mistakes. To his surprise, Arthur begins to relax against him, inch by inch. That tension bleeds away like so much sand back out into the tide.

“I don’t know a fucking thing about living a human life,” John says. As Arthur opens his mouth to speak, John shushes him. “No, I don’t. I’m learning, though. Maybe that’s where we find peace, those small hours in between the difficult stretches. In walks, or… the trees changing color around us, all the subtle beauty of staying defiantly alive in a world that might want us dead. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” Arthur says weakly. John reaches up to brush a thumb under his eyes, wiping away what few tears remained, and he leans desperately into the touch. “Thank you, John. Sometimes I just need a reminder, I guess… and, um, John?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you describe it to me? The forest, I mean, if it’s not too much trouble. I’d like to listen to you talk for a while.”

He could have kissed him, then, but he doesn’t. There would be plenty of opportunity for that later. Instead John tilts his head back, gazing up into a sky dusted powder blue.

“Of course, Arthur. We’re in the middle of a clearing. The path we were following is almost entirely buried beneath a covering of dead leaves, like the trees were trying to swallow civilization’s influence up. Above us branches stretch spindly fingers into the sky, framing what I can see of it in a rickety halo tinged through with hints of amber and red. All around us the trees are alight in autumn’s bloom, but nothing compares to your eyes.”

“My… eyes?” Arthur asks in strange awe. “John?”

His cheeks flush. “Hush. Do you want me to keep going or not?”

“Oh, by all means,” Arthur says, and rests his head on John’s shoulder. “I’m listening.”

“Right. There are bushes lining the edges of the clearing sporadically, dotted with some sort of bright pink berry. Light bathes the ground in long yellow arcs which shift and shiver as  the sun travels across the sky. Little green exists here, but it’s alright. Fall has a kind of atrophy I appreciate for its earnestness, its honesty, I suppose. Oh, let me tell you about the flock of birds above, too…”

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Kinktober Day 14: Breeding with San

Trigger warnings:

Content warnings: names (baby, honey, sweetheart), a little biting, san spits in mc’s mouth, breeding (duh)

Summary: Your husband had a dream and now he’s entertaining the idea of starting a family…kinda.

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: hi all 🥰 after much consideration, i’ve decided to repost my kinktober 2022 stories. i had a great time writing these a couple years ago and want to share them again now that it’s been a while and i’ve had time to fall in love with them again. i hope you all enjoy! and by all means, feel free to send a message or comment here if you’d like to be part of the new tag list!

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

Smut below the cut

You let out a soft sigh at the feeling of your husband’s lips on your skin, a smile creeping onto your face as he roused you from your slumber. “Good morning to you too.” You giggled, allowing him to tug your tank top down in the front to litter your chest with kisses. “Did you sleep that well?” You teased, carding your fingers through his hair.

“I had a dream.” You gasped when he laved his tongue over your nipple before continuing. “We were parents. You were carrying our second child and you looked fucking stunning. It got me thinking...”

“Sannie, we’ve only been married a couple months…”

He paused his actions and looked up at you with a warm expression. “I know, sweetheart. I know it’s too early to actually try for that. We agreed on waiting three years and I’m sticking with that. But there’s no harm in having some fun and playing into the fantasy, right?” He hummed.

“Well…I am on the pill…” And I certainly love when you finish inside me… You didn’t voice that last part. Saying it aloud would ruin the moment.

“Whaddaya say, honey?”

“It’s just a fantasy until we’re actually ready to be parents.” You reminded him and he nodded before resuming his attack on your chest.

You bit your lip as your eyes slipped shut again, allowing yourself to get caught up in his touch. He always handled you with such care, made you feel like you were the center of the universe. The man was smitten and wanted to make sure you knew just how special you were to him.

You let out a soft sigh and your grip on his hair tightened, tugging gently when he closed his lips around your nipple and sucked. “Oh…” You gasped as he gently bit down. “Take it off.” You urged when his hands slipped just under the edge of your top, thumbs massaging small circles on your hips.

He wasted no time in complying, pushing the cotton upwards as you sat up. As soon as he had your shirt off, you laid back down and pulled him in, kissing him. His hands roamed and he slotted himself between your legs as you nipped at his lip, drawing out a hum of appreciation.

His bare skin against yours was dizzying. He was fucking gorgeous. Sometimes you wondered how you’d managed to snag a husband who was not only gorgeous but also a complete sweetheart. He truly was the ideal man. And somehow he was all yours.

Laid like this, you could feel how hard he was and you felt a wave of arousal wash over your entire body when he rolled his hips against yours. You whined against his lips at the sensation and he quickly pulled back, sitting up between your legs. “I want you so fucking bad, baby…” He groaned and you bit your lip again, this time to conceal a smile.

“So take me. Make me feel it for the rest of the day.” You challenged and his jaw ticked as he tried to control himself. You didn’t want him to do that though so you caught his eye and said the only thing you could think of, playing off his fantasy. “Fuck a baby into me, Sannie.”

His grip on your hips tightened and he sucked in a sharp breath as his eyes darkened. “Say that again.” He ordered, his voice a low rumble. You knew not to argue when he spoke in that tone.

“I want you to put a baby in me, Sannie…” You whispered, placing your hands over his.

He groaned and pulled away, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties and tugging them down in one swift motion. “Fucking perfect.” He sighed upon seeing your bare pussy, already soaked for him.

He made to lay on his stomach but you shook your head. “I need you now, Sannie.”

Everything went quiet as he tried to process your words. Neither of you moved - hell, you weren’t even sure you were breathing - as time stopped in its tracks, his eyes taking you in. You were so fucking perfect for him.

Just as quickly as he’d frozen, he snapped back to reality and dove forwards, capturing your lips in a demanding kiss. His hands were everywhere as he licked into your mouth. Finally, he cupped your pussy and you couldn’t help but grind against his palm. “You’re so fucking wet, baby…you like the idea of me putting a baby in you that much?” He groaned as he pulled back to look at you.

You whimpered and nodded, making a quiet noise of distress when he pulled his hand away. You clenched around nothing upon seeing him bring his hand to his mouth and lap up your arousal. You froze for a brief moment before frantically shoving his boxers down. He swatted your hands away when you reached for his dick and lined up. “Since you like the thought so much, I’ll give you what you want and fuck a baby into that pretty pussy.”

You wanted him to slam into you straight away but he was afraid to hurt you given the absence of your usual foreplay. Instead, he eased in with shallow thrusts, teasing you with the promise of more each time he pulled out. “So fucking good, baby…” He sighed, burying his face in your neck as he spoke.

You shivered when he bit you, a delicious pain radiating out from where his teeth sank into the junction of your neck and shoulder. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and your fingers splayed out on his firm back as you let out tiny sounds of pleasure at the pace he set. He always filled you just right, always knew what would make you explode, and he was far from selfish - though he’d said plenty of times that getting you off got him off, so maybe he was a little selfish. You couldn’t be bothered to care one way or the other regarding his selfishness or lack thereof, you were already working up a sweat just from meeting his thrusts.

You felt the knot in your belly start to tighten when he spoke to you in a tone that dripped with poorly concealed excitement and a hint of desperation. “You’re gonna look so fucking stunning carrying my baby…” He all but growled, licking over where he’d bitten you. “Everyone’s gonna see your swollen belly and know you’re all mine.”

You moaned weakly, nodding along at his words. “Want everyone to know ‘m yours…” You murmured, gasping a moment later when he delivered a particularly harsh thrust. “Oh fuck- just like that-”

“Like this?” He repeated his actions and you whimpered pathetically, nodding vigorously. Your nails dug into his back and he grunted as he lifted his head from the crook of your neck. He brought one hand to your jaw and held your head in place, forcing you to make eye contact. “Open.” He demanded, giving your jaw a gentle squeeze.

The moment your lips parted, his hips stilled and he allowed a thick string of spit to drop into your mouth. You clenched around him as molten lava filled your veins, eyes rolling back at the erotic act. You quickly swallowed just before his lips met yours, tongue sweeping into your mouth as he continued to fuck you. He let out one of the most primal sounds you’d ever heard from him and you eagerly drank it up, clenching around him again, this time on purpose.

His precise, sharp thrusts were dragging you closer and closer to the edge until you finally hit your limit. “Fuck, Sannie, ‘m gonna cum-” You warned, just barely pulling back from his lips.

“Me too, baby. Cum for me. Make a mess all over my cock.” His voice was deep and throaty as he granted you permission to let go. That’s exactly what you did. You let out something akin to a squeal of delight as your orgasm crashed down on you, your body jerking beneath your husband’s.

Your walls fluttering around him dragged him down with you and he moaned something about making you a mother as he came inside you, though you didn’t process his words. You were in a pleasant daze as you rode out your orgasm and nothing made much sense so you didn’t even attempt to comprehend what he’d said. All you could focus on was his cum already leaking out of you as his hips slowly came to a halt.

When you finally cracked your eyes open and peeked out at him, he was admiring you with an expression of pure adoration. Your cheeks went a soft pink but you didn’t speak, allowing the moment to last until he broke the silence. “I love you.” He whispered, smiling warmly when you returned the sentiment. “Why don’t you let me get you cleaned up and then we can go out to breakfast?” He suggested as he pulled out. When you nodded in agreement, he quickly scooted down the bed and grinned at you. “Since I didn’t get to taste you earlier, how about I do that to clean up my mess?” Before you could respond, his head was between your legs, lapping at his cum.

<-d-13 | d-15->

[writhe]

RESTOCK! EAT EM UP PLEASE

if i am being completely honest these will probably not get to you in time for XMAS but hey, you know what, it's punk time and you get that. anyway there's a whole bunch o' shirts for you to snag including some red ones, stuff printed with coppery ink, and a restock of the DECADENCE NOW rat shirts, which i have not printed in a minute. etc!!!!!!!

THANKS FOR LOOKIN' XOXO

[monstersflashlight]

Just the tip (Day 3/8 of 10k followers event)

Minotaur x fem!reader || size kink, soft (but filthy) sex, dirty talk, breeding, oral sex

You are quietly walking through the supermarket one day when you have to climb a shelf because you can’t reach the fucking cereals you want. You are pushing your body up when you slip and brace yourself for impact. But the impact never comes. You feel strong big arms around you and when you look up you are staring into the eyes of the biggest minotaur you’ve ever seen.

From that point on, you see him every time you go to the supermarket, it’s like magic. You are going grocery shopping? He’s walking the aisle like he’s there just for you. Days pass and you can’t stop thinking about how wonderful he is, how pretty… and how fucking big. He insists on helping you get everything from the top shelf, you aren’t exactly little, but he’s so tall and broad and fucking magnificent… You agree. And just like that, you have a new grocery shopping friend.

Your friendship develops from there, you gave him your phone, he texts you when he’s going shopping, you met there. Sometimes you go out for coffee after, sometimes he insists on following you home and helping you put the groceries away… You never thought it was wrong because if felt completely fine, it felt natural and amazing to trust him, to feel cared for. And you think you might be in love.

When he finally asks you out, you say “yes” so fast he starts laughing as you blush like a teenager. He embraces you human body against his big minotaur one and lifts you up, burying his big head in your neck as you grab his horns. The sinful groan he lets out makes you whimper in need, and just like that, you two are horny as fuck and it’s like something broke inside you. A new kind of need awakening.

You go on a date that feels like the longest foreplay you’ve ever felt. The date is fucking fantastic, you two fitting better than puzzle pieces, and you can’t stop thinking how much you want to suck his cock. If he’s somewhat proportionate, he must be huge, and that thought plagues your brain every time you look at him. But you don’t say nothing that day.

You continue dating and going groceries together, and after a month of constant turn-on state, you are casually hanging out in your kitchen putting the groceries away as he sits and looks at you while you two talk.

“What?” He asks when he catches you staring at him for the hundredth time, a big smile in his pretty face. He’s so cute you want to hit him, sometimes. You can’t deal with such adorable being.

You look at him, feeling your cheeks getting hot already. “I- Nothing,” you say, embarrassed to admit you were thinking about his dick, once again. You are in a constant state of sexual frustration since you started dating. You thought it would be more sex and less cuteness, and you aren’t mad about it being cute, but dang, you want his cock so deeply inside of you, you could feel him for days after.

He smirks, grabbing a grape out of the bag and chewing it slowly. “Come on, don’t be shy, tell me.” His absurdly hot face and body look so tantalizing and you feel so ready to climb him like a tree every time you get close to him...

“I- I lowkey… Never mind, it’s too embarrassing.” You look down as you take some more groceries and store them in the cupboard. You hear him getting up and getting closer to you, his heat behind you making you melt against his chest. His strong arms coming around you as you sigh, happily. He turns you around and pecks at your lips, his big eyes making pleading as he says nothing. “Okay, okay, stop using those big eyes on me. I… I was thinking about your dick,” you confess, hiding your face in his chest.

He pulls his fingers under your chin and pushes your face up. He’s looking at you with such tenderness and heat in his eyes that you have to grab at his shirt harder not to fall, your knees weak under you. “Say that again?” He asks, his tone pleadingly.

“We… We’ve been seeing each other for a long time and I… I want to move things further,” you let out slowly, looking at him for any reaction. But his face is completely blank and you start doubting everything about your relationship. The voices in your head are loud as you let out a choked: “It’s okay if it’s too fast, I get it. I know. Shutting up now.” It’s been too little, he doesn’t feel the same, he’s just with you because you are exotic… Your inner monologue is filled with self-doubt.

“No. No, it’s not that,” he says, an edge of self-doubt mirroring yours. You blush hard as you look at him up and down, your brain going a mile per minute and falling into the worst possible scenarios.

“What then?” You ask, neediness bleeding into your voice. “You… You don’t find me attractive?” You finally ask, your self-esteem issues making you want to cry as he looks down at you with the most shocked expression ever.

“What?! Are you insane?!” His growl is so deep and feral that your knees turn into jelly under you.

You grab the edge of the counter not to fall. But you can’t respond with anything before he’s manhandling your body over your kitchen table and pushing all the groceries to the ground. You are about to protest when he leans over your body and starts kissing you senseless. His arms part your legs and he steps between them, his monstrous bulge fitting perfectly against your clothed pussy.

“You want this?” He says as he grinds against you. “Are you sure?” He sounds hesitant, but his dick is so hard against you that you want to scream.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you chant, trying to grind against him. He growls and rips your clothes off in two fast tugs, leaving you naked over the table, like a sacrifice for the minotaur. And you are more than ready to be devoured.

He pulls his fly open in one tug, probably breaking it in the process, but his movements are frantic. He pushes against you once again, his dick huge against your dripping cunt. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he grunts, his dick leaking precum. Leaking so much of it that you feel it dripping over your wet pussy, making a bigger mess. “I don’t think I would fit, you are so tiny.” He proves his point pressing a finger inside you, making you arch your back and moan loudly. He grunts as he fucks you slowly. His finger feels already so big...

“Just the tip,” you try to argue, wanting nothing more than to be fucked. You know you can take him. At least some of him, but he’s so caring and so worried about you… Always worried. You moan and try to move your hips, but his grip is non-forgiving. You can’t move even a millimeter as he rubs his tip against your wet folds around his finger still buried inside. “Please, please,” you always thought you were above begging, but today you learned a new thing about yourself.

“Just the tip?” He asks, the big head of his cock teasing your entrance. “You are so tight,” he grunts. You feel like he’s going to break you apart as he presses lightly, making you cry out. He pulls back, scared that he hurt you, but you shush him, kissing his snout and grabbing his horns. You know he loves when you play with his horns, he told you how sensitive they were.

“Just the tip,” you repeat. You are already feeling needy and desperate, wanting nothing more but for him to fuck you into oblivion, even if that means you’d be impaled by a giant dick.

“You are soaking,” he groans as he gets in position, making you hot all over. The sounds he makes are so erotic you can’t stop moaning in response.

He starts pushing inside millimeter by millimeter and you feel like your body is being torn. He’s so big, so massive inside of you. You don’t know if you can take him. You don’t know if the tip was already too much for your poor human pussy.

“You feel amazing, such a good little human for me.” He keeps going, shushing your whimpers and telling you how good you feel, how pretty you look stretched around him. “Your pussy is so good, you feel so tight around me. Your pussy feels amazing, best pussy I’ve ever tried, I’m not gonna give you up for anything in the world. You are MINE.” With a roar he pushes a bit deeper, making you cry out.

After that it’s like a switch turns off inside him. Before you realize, he’s slipped a bit more inside. And a bit more. And he’s halfway there when he starts to fuck you in earnest, losing complete control of himself because of how good you feel. You start chanting his name as he keeps hitting deep inside of you. Too much, too deep, but so, so good you can’t stop the tears from falling freely.

He fucks you like a piston, so lost in the pleasure of your body that you can’t even think straight as he goes and goes and goes. You don’t know where his body starts and yours ends. You don’t know what day it is or what’s your own name. You just know his dick pushing far and deep inside of you, harder and harder with each thrust. It’s maddening.

“I’m gonna breed you,” he starts. You groan in response, the idea of being filled to the brim making you hotter than expected. And he keeps going, “I’m gonna come so far inside of you, you are gonna feel me inside for days.” You groan again, rocking your hips against him. “Rub your pretty clit for me, fall apart around my dick, let me feel your pussy milking me.” You scream at his words, overwhelmed.

You obey, rubbing your clit as he fucks you furiously on the table, the wood underneath you creaking under the force of his thrusts. It takes you less than two seconds to come around his shaft, only halfway in, but bigger than anything you’ve ever tried.

“Just like that, yes. Yes. Good little human.” He starts babbling nonsense as he fucks you though your orgasm.

When you are coming down from the extracorporeal experience that is an orgasm with him, you feel the first shoot of his come inside of you. He comes, and comes, and comes a bit more. You feel some come leaking around his dick, you feel so full you don’t know what to do but squirm under him. The movement just makes everything move and you groan, clenching around him as he grunts.

He pulls out after what feels like an eternity hugging each other, your pussy feels raw and abused. You whimper when he touches you, so tender and fucked out, but he doesn’t really care, a dazed look in his eyes as he looks at your leaking pussy. You push your body up on your elbows, looking down at him as he kneels on the floor, between your legs. He launches at your pussy, eating you out until he deems you are clean enough. You come three times before he’s done.

And then he takes you to bed and does it all over again.

[smallndsoft]

tw: somnophilia

i’ve had to work late for the past few nights and that means i’ve gotten less time with you.

like the last night and the night before that, i get home late again. all the lights are out as i pull my truck into the driveway.

i let out a long sigh as i open the driver door. dragging myself up the driveway, i unlock the door and open it as quietly as i can.

“fucking hell,” i mumble to myself as the screen door squeaks. i’ve been meaning to oil the hinges so it won’t make any noise, but i haven’t had time. maybe tomorrow.

my eyes are somewhat adjusted to the pitch dark house as i drop my keys on the table by the door. i walk down the hallway and into our bedroom.

kicking my shoes off by the doorway, i smile tiredly at your sleeping figure splayed out in bed. the covers are barely on your body, only covering up to your ass.

“thank god you don’t like wearing clothes when you sleep,” i mumble as i strip my shirt and work pants off.

leaving my boxers on, i slip into bed beside you. the bed creaks just a bit but it’s not enough to wake you up. i lean over and press a gentle kiss to the back of your head, inhaling the fresh scent of your shampoo.

you look so peaceful, your bare back and your smooth ass on perfect display. my hand gently traces down your spine and lands just below the curve of your ass.

i grab you, kneading the smooth flesh there. you barely stir from this, only stretching out more for me. almost instinctively.

i had no intentions of doing anything tonight. i’m so damn tired and you’re already fast asleep, but the way you’re spread out for me is an invitation i can’t pass up.

scooting close to you, i throw my right leg over your left, spreading you out just a little more. my hand trails down further, my fingers barely touching your puckered hole before they rest on your cunt.

“oh bunny,” i breathe out, a small smile on my lips. “were you waiting for me?”

you’re dripping wet, indicating that you fell asleep playing with yourself, too tired to finish and too tired to wait for me to help you.

“that’s okay. i’m here now,” i whisper against your skin, my lips tracing against your upper back.

i let a strangled breath out as i slip my boxers off. tossing them carelessly onto the floor, i crawl over you.

“oh fuck,” i moan out. i rub my cock between your ass before i sit back, positioning myself at the entrance of your cunt.

i’m already panting despite not even having entered you yet. i lick my lips and stroke myself a few times before i slowly push into your went cunt.

it’s tight, but the way your sleeping figure is swallowing my cock sends my thoughts spinning. i have to close my eyes despite the darkness.

i keep pushing until i feel my hips pressed against your ass. i stay still for a moment, letting myself take a few deep breaths before i start to slowly thrust.

it’s been days since we’ve fucked but it feels like months. “fuck i’ve missed this, bunny,” i mumble.

i start slow, my grasp on your hips gentle as the soft sounds of my hips hitting your ass fill our bedroom.

after a few more gentle thrusts, i need more. the primal urge to fuck you and fill you is too much.

all at once, my grip on your hips tightens and i start to thrust faster and harder. the sounds of skin on skin becomes louder and more lewd.

a thin layer of sweat forms on my forehead as i use your body for my pleasure.

surprised that you’ve stayed asleep this long, i chuckle softly when you start to shift. i feel your cunt squeezing my cock, signaling that you’re starting to become aware of the situation.

“shhh. you’re okay, bunny,” i whisper as i keep ramming into you.

you don’t bother trying to look back at me as i thrust into your tight hole. burying your face into your pillow, i smile as moans and whimpers spill from your lips.

“need you so bad, baby. i’ve missed you so much,” i pant out.

the tension in my lower belly builds quickly. any other day and i’d be embarrassed that i’m on the verge of cumming. since i’ve not fucked you in days, i feel less embarrassment.

“fuck fuck fuck,” i chant out, my grip on your waist tightening as i get closer to the edge.

“i’m gonna fill you up. gonna take my load like a good bunny, right?” i grunt out.

you just give me a dazed, half-awake nod as you clutch onto your pillow.

the sight is everything i’ve wanted to see these past few days and despite the exhaustion i feel, all that’s on my mind is filling you. breeding you.

“oh fu-uck,” i moan out. in an instant, my body stiffens, my hips flush against you as i feel my orgasm ripple through me. “shit, bunny. take my cum. fuck.”

a shiver rolls through me as i dump the last few drops of my load into you. breathing heavily, i let go of your hips. i keep my cock firmly inside you as i lay on my side, pulling you flush against me.

my cock is twitching inside of you still but i keep lazily thrusting inside you, just wanting to feel as much of your tight heat as i can.

“go back to sleep, bunny. i need to use your little holes a few more times.”

[alexiroflife]

"babysitting"

fluff, crack

Synopsis: that time you were babysitting your niece when sukuna came home...

to sum it up: sukuna is such a dad but doesn't know it yet

WC: 1,218

Warning(s): none

“What the fuck is that?”

You look up to see Sukuna standing in the doorway, a twisted snarl on his face as he glares harshly at the object within your grasp. You raise your brows, momentarily surprised by his arrival, and give him a soft smile. 

“Hi, Kuna,” you greet happily, ignoring his question. “I didn’t know you were gonna be back so soon.”

“Answer my question, woman,” he growls, looking almost disgusted by the sight before him. “What is that?”

He points one of his burly arms to you, and you look down at the cooing seven-month-old in your embrace, bouncing up on your knee as you sit on the floor just before Sukuna’s large bed. The baby gargles, hand stuffed into her mouth as drool dribbles down her fist, a thoughtless smile rising onto her small lips.

“She’s my niece,” you tell him, smoothing your thumb lovingly over the baby’s shirt, inspiring a small giggle and a senseless babble. You smile. “Isn’t she so cute?”

“It’s vile,” Sukuna grimaces and you frown. “Why is that beast in my temple?”

“Sukuna, be nice,” you roll your eyes. “She’s just a baby, and my sister needed some help looking after her for a few hours.”

“And you felt prompted to bring it here?”  he scrunches his nose. 

“Her, and where else would I be?” 

“As long as you’re carrying that creature, you must be anywhere else but here,” he grumbles, turning dismissively to leave the room. “I want it gone.”

“What?!” you exclaim, moving to stand with the baby resting on your hip. You walk over to your boyfriend, touching your soft hand to his large back to keep him from leaving. Sukuna peers over his shoulder angrily, four eyes squinting down at the two of you. “Come on, Sukuna! At least admit how adorable she is. Look at this precious little face.”

You squish gently at the baby’s cheeks and her fist falls from her mouth, big round eyes scrunching as a giddy beam rises to her rosy cheeks. All Sukuna can see, however, is the slobber shining over her chin and on her hand. “I do not understand what you are requesting of me,” he says coldly, eying the child as though she carries the plague. “Is it incapable of keeping its saliva inside of its mouth?”

“She’s teething,” you say flatly.

“What?”

“Her teeth are coming in soon, it stimulates drooling.”

Sukuna’s face of disgust grows more exaggerated, leaning his head back with curled lips. “Like an animal?”

Your face drops as you stare at him boredly. “Yes, Sukuna. Like an animal. All humans did it at one point.”

“Do you mean to inform me that you engaged in such a disgusting act when you were in this stage of life?”

“...Yes?”

He clicks his tongue, now eying you with an air of suspicion. “Good to know,” he says rather judgmentally.

The thought crosses your mind to point at that your boyfriend was at some point a human too, but you decide against it.

“Sukuna,” you groan. “Aside from the drool, she’s such a precious little thing. You have to agree, right?” you coo. You look down at the baby to grin childishly at her, tucking your finger under her chin and tapping her slightly, hardly tickling at her body but arising a few more giggles nonetheless. You babble meaningless sounds, speaking to her in a playful voice that Sukuna has never heard from you before.

Though still thoroughly confounded as to why you want him to take interest in this little animal, his eyes catch the way you soften for the child, how your eyes light and a sense of maternity takes you as you speak to the baby as though you know just what to say, drawing out toothless grins and thrilled gibberish. His brow twitches involuntarily, something within him almost enjoying the sight before him. You’re so good with this creature. Have you always been like this?

“What language are you speaking with it?” he suddenly asks gruffly, causing you to pause and look up at him as your niece reaches her small hands up to your cheek. 

“With her,” you correct again. “And I’m not speaking any language, I’m just playing around,” you chuckle slightly. Sukuna stares harshly now, examining the movements of the half developed human in your arms as she curiously taps against your face.

Suddenly catching wind of his presence, the baby’s head turns to him and her eyes grow bigger. She cries out excitedly, reaching her arms out to Sukuna with grasping tiny fingers. Sukuna falters, confused.

“What is she doing?” he asks urgently, and you laugh.

“She wants you to hold her,” you say softly.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Kuna,” you pout. “Please? Just for two seconds.”

“I said no, you brat.”

“Pleaseeeee? Pretty pretty please, my king?”

You give him the biggest puppy dog eyes you can muster, and when he looks between the two of you, your expressions almost match. Sukuna feels something in his resolve crumble, incapable of truly denying you though he tries his best to still appear as though you give him a hard time. 

With an agitated sigh, he reaches his upper set of arms to grab the child as you lift her up and hand her to him. “Two seconds,” he growls and your eyes sparkle with anticipation.

He holds the baby up before him, watching as her little feet dangle and kick around in her onesie as he grasps her from under her arms. His hands practically consume her entire frame, her fingers still reaching out to him curiously, joyfully.

The king of curses continues to glare, brow cocked while he tries to decide what is so special about it. Perhaps he can understand what you find to be “cute.” The baby’s got big chubby cheeks and huge doe eyes that almost remind him of you, and she’s so comically tiny it makes him want to laugh. 

He grunts softly as he pulls the baby in closer, complying with her unspoken request displayed by her constant reaching. She touches her little slobber-less hand on his forehead, touching softly at the plate structure on the right side of his face. Sukuna imagined himself to be a bit more perturbed by the contact, but finds himself unbothered, allowing the child to trace his features with innocent exploration.

You watch with your hands to your mouth, hiding your bright smile. The sight before you is just so adorable, you wish you could take a picture but you know that Sukuna would be quick to crush your phone in an instant if he caught you.

Sukuna finally pulls the child away, watching her grin happily. He hands her back to you and crosses his arms. “What is her purpose?” he questions, and you give him a strange look, adjusting the baby back on your hip as she plays with your hair. 

“She has no purpose. She’s a baby.”

“She is too young to work? To serve?”

“Wh- yes?!”

“Very well,” he nods. “She may stay for another hour.”

“...But my sister isn’t free for another two hours.”

“Two hours, and if she isn’t gone by then, tell her in her native tongue that I will be eating her fingers for dinner.”

[hysteria-things]

MATT'S STREAM

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and chris’ relationship isn’t out to the public just yet. when he’s on stream with matt, you tease him.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, teasing, dry humping, cock warming, degradation if you squint, p in v, semi-public (?)

ASSUME YOU'RE ON THE PILL!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,521

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hiii i’m excited for this. let’s see how this goes :)

chris sits at his desk, spam clicking and smashing buttons on his keyboard. he talks to his brothers in his headset.

matt’s streaming on twitch right now, meaning that thousands of fans are watching the three of them play fortnite. you’ve been with chris for a few months, yet the fans have no idea. you both collectively agreed to keep your relationship out of the public eye.

hence why you are seated next to him out of frame, watching the stream go down. your eyes scan to his side profile. his brows furrow in concentration, his tongue sticking out as he focuses on the computer screen. you hear the boys scream in his headset, and he slams his hands onto his lap.

“damn.” he grunts out, glancing over at you for a moment and smiling.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” he says into the mic before muting it and taking off his headset. he turns his face cam off and goes into the bathroom to do his business.

he comes out beats later, sitting back in the gaming chair, wiggling to get comfortable. you get up, which gains his attention. “you doing okay?” he asks.

“yeah. just need to stretch.”

before he could unmute his mic and turn the cam back on, you push the chair back slightly to have enough space to straddle his lap. he wraps his arms around your waist and welcomes you closer, kissing your collarbone. “they’re going to think i’m shitting.” he says jokingly.

your arms snake around his neck and you lean back to look at him. “say your camera broke.”

he smirks and puts back on his headset. “i’m back.” he starts. “for some reason, my camera is acting weird.”

“it’s all good. as long as we can still hear you.” matt’s voice replies.

the thin fabric you call panties rubs against his bulge through his red plaid pajama pants. you have a shirt on, one of chris’s FRESH LOVE t-shirts that covers you enough to look like a nightgown. a sensation tingles between your legs, and you start to move your hips slowly.

you hear chris groan, pressing a button on his keyboard. “what are you doing?” he asks sternly.

“i need to get comfortable.” you tease, rocking your hips harder. he opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and clicks unmute again.

you rest your head in the crook of his neck and continue to rock your hips, feeling him grow beneath you. he still talks to his brothers normally, but his performance on the game doesn’t look good.

“what the fuck is up with you, chris?” nick questions into the headphones.

“sorry,” he mumbles.

your hands find their way to the back of his neck and tug at his hair lightly. you breathe heavily to not make any noise since his mic is right next to your head. you don’t even notice your hips rutting and body tensing when you feel your release soak your underwear.

you exhale shakily, lifting your body and looking at the mess you made. there’s a wet stain on his pants on top of his hard-on. you don’t even have to look to know your underwear is ruined.

chris looks at you confused, before following your gaze. you go to get up but he grabs your hips and places you back to where you’re hovering over him. he unties his pants and pulls them down along with his boxers. he moves the mic away from his mouth, leaning toward your ear.

“don’t move or make a fucking sound,” he warns in a low tone you could barely hear.

he pushes your panties to the side and guides you down onto his cock, fighting off the hissing noise trying to escape your lips as he stretches you out tenderly and slowly. you and chris started having sex not long ago, but even after a few days without it, you had to readjust again.

this, however, is a first.

you guys never tried cock warming before. you felt so nervous. so excited. so full.

after multiple rounds of fortnite that felt like it lasted hours, your brain felt fuzzy despite not even doing anything. every time he talked, laughed, or celebrated a victory or loss, he’d thrust deep inside of you. and it drove you nuts.

you hear commotion on the other end of the headset. “fuck!” chris screams, jolting his hips further into you than at any other time. your eyes roll ever so slightly, mouth agape as your bottom lip grazes over his bare shoulder. it’s too late to take back the moan that came out of you.

chris’ hands make their way to your ass and squeeze hard, setting a reminder.

be quiet. right.

your patience becomes thinner and thinner, since it’s already been about thirty minutes. too desperate, you start to grind against him.

before he can do or say anything, you grab his mic and fist your hand over it so nobody can hear.

“please let me ride you. i promise i’ll be quiet.” you beg.

“so needy.” he sighs, taking your hand off of the mic and returning to the game.

rutting your hips forward, you start bouncing, your clit swollen from sitting still for so long without doing anything about it. you don’t know, but you could’ve sworn you heard chris groan.

too busy focusing to try to not make a sound by biting your lip, you hear sentences being scattered around from the boys.

“i don’t know, man.”

“this game sucks!”

“is your camera working yet?”

“no, sorry!”

little do they know, here you are, fucking yourself on your boyfriend’s dick like a bitch in heat.

you nuzzle your head in his neck and kiss a spot before biting down to stifle your pathetic sounds. chris hisses at the sudden contact and misses a kill, the other person killing him instead, costing them to lose.

“for fuck sake. chris, are you sure you’re okay?” matt asks in annoyance.

the tip of his cock brushes against your g-spot unexpectedly, forcing a whine out of you. “actually.” chris starts. “i don’t feel good, to be honest. i might log off for tonight.”

he quickly ends the discord call and shuts down his computer, stopping your movements. you look at him with glassy eyes, a frown portraying your face. he runs a finger up your spine before gripping onto your hair and yanking it, making you whimper. “first, you ruin my pants.”

he thrusts himself up into you, taking you by surprise with a gasp.

“then, you tease me.”

another thrust.

“now, you can’t follow simple fucking instructions.”

again.

a broken moan comes out of you, chris slapping your ass. “need me to fuck you so bad you can’t even wait two hours. instead, you get off by fucking yourself on my dick like your life depends on it. so pathetic.”

you whine of embarrassment, yet you don’t want this to stop.

“please.” you breathe out. “i’m sorry. please fuck me.”

with that, chris grabs your thigh with his free hand and starts plunging into you from below. his grip is still tight on your hair. you let out breathy moans left and right since each thrust takes the air out of your lungs. your eyes start prickling with tears from all of the built-up pleasure. “oh my— fucking— jesus— god.”

chris chuckles at your failed attempt to form a sentence. your moans transition into high-pitched squeals when he hits the angle that makes a knot form in your stomach. he releases his grip from your hair and moves it to your jaw, his hand that was on your thigh coming up to your mouth. he shoves in his middle and ring finger for you to suck on.

god, this felt good, and boy was it hot.

drool starts dribbling down your chin as you moan around his fingers and your eyes roll back. chris twitches inside you causing him to groan and take out his fingers, but your mouth still hangs open as unholy sounds come out of it. he releases your jaw and cups your ass with both hands.

“holy shit.” you whine. “i’m gonna cum.”

“let go, y/n. fuck you’re doing so good for me.”

because you certainly don’t have to be told twice, your whole body trembles and you fall forward. your hands cup the sides of his neck.

“i love you.” you moan into his neck as he continues thrusting to get to his release. “i love you so fucking much— jesus god.” you cry out when you feel chris filling you up.

he thrusts a few more times into your trembling body to get down from his high.

“look at me.” he says softly, bringing your head up to make eye contact. he smiles and kisses your lips. “i love you too, ma.”

when you come back to your senses you lift yourself off of him and stumble to his bed to sit down. chris pulls up his boxers and checks his phone that’s been blowing up on the desk in front of him.

[spencerreidenjoyer]

we've already done it in my head | spencer reid x reader

You have fantasies about Spencer, and you feel bad about it when you have to see him at work. Thing is, he has fantasies about you too.

wc: 4.8k, rating: explicit

tags/warnings: professor!spencer, post prison!spencer, bau!reader, fem!reader, sexual fantasies, masturbation, daddy kink, getting together, hookups, friends with benefits (?), mentions of public sex/exhibitionism (they don't actually do it), fucking with feelings but neither of them really realise it yet lol...

a/n: i am insane and that's all i'll say about this fic. jk i started this at the top of the month and i'm glad i've finally finished it. this was such a crazy one to work on, aside from being swamped with school work. thank you to my lovely friend from twitter vic who kept encouraging me to work on this hehe. inspired heavily by taylor swift's guilty as sin? (obviously) and chappell roan's picture you just for those horny yearning vibes yknow? please enjoy this insanity!!! (crossposted to ao3)

Spencer rushes in from the university when Emily calls. It’s a serious case, one that Emily decides Spencer needs to be pulled away from his teaching for. She doesn’t feel good doing it – the whole team knows how important teaching is to Spencer, but he understands all the same when he comes into the round table room. Spencer sits down at the last empty seat next to you, his hair a mess as he sets down his things and flips open the case file. He turns to smile at you, before Penelope starts the case brief.

It’s a long, tiring day of work after landing in California, the BAU having been called in to investigate the murders of young moms in the area, and you need a glass of wine and a nice hot bath to even fathom everything you’ve seen today.

You should just turn in for the night, the Bureau being particularly kind with their budget as you all get individual rooms. Your drowsiness should put you fast to sleep, but your mind is racing with thoughts of Spencer.

Spencer’s been in his nice suit all day, filling out his shirt nicely. You’ve noticed his stubble growing in, and his hair is messy and gorgeous. You can’t help yourself for feeling this way, as guilty as you feel about it. You’ve been harbouring your crush on Spencer for way too long, in the couple of years since you joined the BAU. Spencer is a sight for sore eyes for sure, but his kind gentleness despite the horrors of what you all do for work is a welcome reprieve. 

While his sweet nature was what had you falling for him in the first place, Spencer could be extremely sexy, even if he didn’t know it. 

Today was especially tough for you. You and Spencer were sent in to interrogate a particularly uncooperative suspect, playing into the good cop-bad cop dynamic. Your coaxing wasn’t doing anything, and Spencer had ended up raising his voice in an attempt to intimidate them. He’d slammed his hand on the table, a loud clang against the metal, and his large figure only served to crowd the suspect in to scare them further.

You only got to know Spencer after the mess that was him getting wrongly sent to prison, but Spencer supposedly wasn’t like this before prison. Still, you found Spencer’s quiet intimidation incredibly attractive, and you had to keep your composure in the interrogation room earlier.

And your mind drifts to Spencer from earlier, his rough callousness with the suspect, his glare wild and intimidatingly sexy, you end up thinking about him.

About Spencer, who is so kind and sweet with you and the rest of the team, seeming like he couldn’t hurt a fly. 

About Spencer who could also be domineering and intimidating. He seems like he’d only pull it out if you asked, but the duality has you hot under the collar. 

Your eyes slip shut, mind swirling with thoughts of Spencer, about having him all to yourself, about him wanting you. 

About his large hands on you, making you feel so small under his firm grasp. 

About him pinning you down on the hard, cool metal of the table in the interrogation room. 

About him caging you in with his arms, the look in his eyes almost crazed and full of lust for you. 

“Spencer,” you gasp, before Spencer kisses you fervently. His stubble is rough against your skin, but you don’t care. Spencer kisses you like he’s a starved man and you’re his next meal, with such desperation that you feel weak in the knees.

“You’re gorgeous,” Spencer says. He kisses your jaw, down your neck, and his large hands are all over your body. You feel so secure in his grasp, he feels you up and drinks his fill of you. He gropes your tits, your thighs, your ass, manhandling you into spreading your legs, so he can press the hardness of his cock to your cunt. “Look what you do to me.”

You whimper, fully indulging in this wet dream as you slide a hand into your underwear. “Spencer,” you gasp.

“You’re so hot, you make me feel crazy,” Spencer hums, rolling his hips against you. You’re separated between layers of fabric, but Spencer humping you like this turns you on to no end. 

You rub at your clit in tight little circles, your wetness aiding the slide as you get yourself off to the thought of Spencer.

“Spence,” you moan, frustrated. While Spencer’s hardness grinding against you is literally a dream, you want to imagine his cock buried inside of you. You’re perfectly capable of moving this along, so you do. 

Magically, Spencer’s clothes are off and so are yours, the perks of a fantasy being that you don’t have to awkwardly stumble through taking your clothes off. You have a hazy picture of what he’d look like naked in front of you. You imagine toned muscle, a slight pudge to his tummy from his time in prison, his pecs filled out nicely. You imagine his cock would be pretty, as pretty as he is, veiny and thick and all sorts of perfect. 

“You’re too fucking good to me, baby,” Spencer groans, the blunt head of his cock pressed up against you now. He rubs off against you, sliding over your clit, your folds, over the wetness leaking from your whole. “Gonna fuck you so good, just like you deserve.”

Without hesitation, Spencer’s cock slips into you, the perfect thickness to make you feel full as he slides in inch by inch. 

You slip your fingers into yourself, aided by how impossibly wet you are just at the thought of Spencer, and your groan weakly. Two fingers aren’t enough, not when you bet Spencer could fill you up, like he’d split you in half on his cock. 

He pushes into you until he’s pressed flush against you, buried inside of you to the hilt. He starts to pound into you, like he’s uncaring of what you need, but the way he treats you turns you on impossibly.

Your fingers aren’t enough to satiate you, but you thrust them in and out of you in an effort to mimic how Spencer fucking you might feel. You moan, a little louder than you’d like.

“Spence–” you gasp, in your fantasy. It should be scandalous, Spencer taking you over the table in the interrogation room. You don’t know if the thought of people being behind the one-way mirror turns you on or not – being watched, letting Spencer take you in front of everybody. You like the thought of Spencer being so obsessed with you, so desperate, needing to fuck you right where you work.

The metal table is cool and harsh against your hips, but you don’t care if it hurts as Spencer fucks you relentlessly, quickly taking on a brutal pace. It’s exactly what you need, what you want Spencer to do with you, being rough and frantic enough to make you scream his name.

You whimper his name under your breath, bashful even while in your fantasy. 

Spencer has you pinned down, but it’s not like you intend to get away. You want to savour this even if it’s only in your mind, shameful as you’re getting off to the thought of your coworker. You just need this out of your system, need Spencer out of your system, and then tomorrow you can face him like a normal, well-adjusted person. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, palm grinding against your clit, fingers pressed inside of yourself. You’re shaking, with the thought of Spencer fucking you until you can’t take it anymore, the ideal of him in your mind too perfect, until you’re moaning into your hand as you orgasm. You sob, clenching tight around your fingers, feeling your slick gush out as you ride your high.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, but after both a long day and a crazy good orgasm, you end up passing out with a tissue clenched in your hand, with your panties and sleep shorts kicked off to the foot of the bed.

---

Spencer can’t stop thinking about you.

He shouldn’t, not when you’re his coworker and also one of the people he’s friendliest with in the unit. 

Spencer would say he couldn’t bring himself to trust many, especially after coming out of prison, but you were the one he warmed up to the easiest. A new face in the BAU wasn’t uncommon, but Spencer had found himself drawn to you. You were kind and warm to him fresh out of prison, your tenderness a welcome reprieve as he’d gotten accustomed to being back at the BAU. With your intellect and quick wit, matched with your beauty, Spencer could not help but be attracted to you – but that’s besides the point. 

Spencer knows how much your friendship with him means to you, and he’s certain that that’s all you see him as: a friend. 

Yet, he can’t stop himself from thinking about you in those pants. Those pants that hug your curves just right. Those pants that make your ass look great – not that he was looking – especially when you’re leaning over an interrogation table, trying to play the good cop with the suspect from earlier.

Spencer had hung back, trying to get a read on the suspect while you spoke to him. Him getting to ogle your figure and stare at how good you looked in those pants was unintentional, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. 

Spencer only felt a bit bad wrapping his hand around himself in the shower, mind flooded with thoughts of you. Water, almost scorching, running down his body, his hand moves fast and reckless, exhaling harshly as he gets himself off. 

He can’t get you out of his mind, your gorgeous figure, your pretty face, your wide eyes and thick thighs and soft lips – he shouldn’t be thinking of you like this. You were a coworker, a friend, for God’s sake, and yet he can’t stop imagining you under him. 

He can’t stop imagining pressing you against the table in the interrogation room – your lithe frame underneath him, making you look so small, making him feel so big. 

He presses his growing problem to your perfect ass, watching you writhe underneath him. You keep looking back up at him, with your wide, wet eyes and your flushed cheeks, looking like you need him to give you exactly what you need.

“Please, daddy,” you whine, and Spencer is groaning and undoing his belt before your pants get pushed down too. Stroking his cock quickly, Spencer easily finds his way to your entrance, wet and dripping with your slick. He pushes into you, pressing kisses to your neck as you groan with the intrusion. 

“Daddy,” you whimper, “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Spencer coos at you. Spencer feels you press yourself back up against him, pushing his cock deeper, and he loses all sense of control as he starts to fuck you hard. He feels like a madman, unable to hold himself back as he takes and takes and takes, fucking into your tight wetness, his head spinning with how good you feel around him. 

You’re whining and moaning under him, your noises music to Spencer’s ears as they echo off the walls. Your cunt is wet and sloppy as Spencer fucks you, wanting to give you everything you need and more.

“Fuck, baby,” Spencer groans, his hand tightly fisted around his cock. The way the tip of his cock leaks is easing the slide, as he pictures in crystal-clear detail how your cunt would draw him in, slick and messy be fucks into your perfect, tight cunt. “You’re too good to me.”

“Daddy,” you sob, your hands clawing down Spencer’s back. Spencer gropes you greedily through your clothes, grabs your tits and feels his fill of your waist, your perfect ass, your thighs as he rocks himself back and forth between them. 

“Gonna cum inside of you, love,” Spencer grunts, his pace unrelenting. His hands are on your thighs, gripping you tight, both fucking into you and dragging you onto his cock over and over. “You’re gorgeous. Gonna make a mess of you.”

You’re whining underneath him, making him feel too good, as you clench around him tight and moan even louder. Spencer can’t help himself, thrusting into you hard and fast and eager until he’s cumming.

He spills into his hand, the thick white ropes of his cum washed down the drain with the spray of the shower from above him. Visions of you flash through his mind, your gorgeous frame, your pretty face, your mouth on his. 

He’s barely towelled off before he’s knocked out in his bed, too tired to even process feeling guilty about jerking off to you. 

---

Sure, perhaps it’s childish to try and avoid Spencer all day, especially when you have an active case all of you need to be working on. You must be a fool to think that getting yourself off to Spencer would help, because all you can think about is your fantasies of him last night, how you imagined him bending you over and taking you– Not helping, you remind yourself.

Emily must secretly be on your side or be able to read your mind or something, because Spencer is relegated to work on geographic profiles and speed-read through case files back at the police precinct, while you get sent out onto the field to chase down your killer. 

But you can’t avoid Spencer forever, and you aren’t any good at it either. You feel like Spencer’s eyes are on you the whole day when you and him are in the same room, but you never look up at him to find out. While you could chalk up your nerves to a serial killer still being out on the streets, you don’t have any more excuses at the end of the day when you’ve finally caught him, and the team decides to get dinner to celebrate.

You purposely wedge yourself between JJ and Emily when you sit down at the table, trying to avoid Spencer, and you think you’re successful with getting away with seeming a little out-of-it when you end up slipping away early, claiming you had a rough sleep last night.

You’ve barely settled down in your hotel room for the night, finally feeling like you can relax, when there’s a knock at your door. You have no clue who it could be, but you open the door, and–

There Spencer is. 

“Hi,” you say curtly, feeling embarrassment wash over you all of a sudden, because all you can think about is getting off to the thought of him last night. You feel your cheeks warm, but you hope it’s not obvious that you’re blushing. Then, in an attempt to seem somewhat normal and well-adjusted, you add, “What’s up?”

“I should be asking you that,” Spencer says, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What’s up with you today?”

You press your lips together in a thin line before you say, “Nothing’s up. I’m fine.”

“Come on,” Spencer prods, his head cocking to the side as he deadpans. “You know I can read you like an open book. Something’s up.”

You frown, Spencer stoking the flames of brattiness in you. “Yeah? Tell me what’s the matter, if you can read me so well.”

Spencer’s eyes widen slightly. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“I- I thought we said no inter-group profiling,” Spencer says, his voice a little weak, and for the first time, you see Spencer look a little helpless. It’s kind of hot. 

Do you make him… nervous?

“Yeah, but if you insist on thinking something’s up with me…” You shrug, smiling. Spencer just blinks at you.

No. You couldn’t possibly entertain the thought. 

Spencer clears his throat. You watch him fidget with his hands just slightly, before he puts them by his sides to seem confident. “Well, you’ve been avoiding me, on purpose or not – both attest to your desire to avoid me somewhat. You could barely look me in the eye all day, which means you might be embarrassed or guilty of something, likely having to do with me.” Spencer says, his voice even, but he isn’t looking at you. 

You raise your eyebrows. His explanation is both specific and vague, and you feel slightly called out and safe from his scrutiny at the same time. But, you can’t shake off the feeling that there’s something more to Spencer’s words, the way he’s looking at you like he hopes you can’t pick his brain apart. 

So, you turn it back onto him, “Then, what do you think is the problem? You aren’t looking at me either, and you were fidgeting with your hands. Is something up with you, then? It almost sounds like you’re projecting, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer freezes, like he’s a deer caught in headlights. You can practically see his brain running a mile a minute, overthinking every possible outcome, overly self-aware of himself, his actions, his thoughts.

You try to stop yourself from smiling, because Spencer is kind of cute like this. “You wanna tell me what it is then, Reid?” 

“When did this become about me?” Spencer squeaks, his usually cool facade quickly disappearing. There’s a look in Spencer’s eyes, as he nervously looks you up and down, and oh– “I just– Well, I– You–”

“I’m thinking we might be on the same page, here,” you say, smirking. “Wanna tell me what it is?”

Spencer furrows his brows, his mouth agape as he looks up at you, but you’re putting your hand on his chest and trailing it down slowly. “Oh–”

“Tell me, Dr. Reid,” you cock your head, eyeing him up and down lazily. When you look at Spencer’s face, he’s shocked, enamoured and turned-on all in one. 

“You’re… attracted to me,” Spencer says, somewhat uncertain. “The same way I’m attracted to you.”

“And what makes you say that?” You hum. 

“I thought I heard you last night. Through the walls,” He says timidly, nothing you’ve seen from him before. “Thought I should’ve gone over to help, but I realised you were, um– You were pleasuring yourself. To- To me.”

“The walls are thin, huh?” You laugh, a little sheepish, but you note how Spencer’s becoming shy at the thought. “Did you…?”

His eyes grow wide. “Did I do what?”

You smirk. “That tells me everything I need to know, Reid,” you say, laughing.

“Well, you shouldn’t presume–”

“Shut up and kiss me, Reid,” you huff. You pull Spencer closer to you by his tie and you press your lips to his. 

It’s too perfect, when Spencer’s mouth is finally on yours. His hands cupping your face, Spencer kisses you hard and eager, like he can’t believe that he finally gets to have you. He kisses you like he’s starving, desperate for you as his next meal. You moan as his hands reach for your hips, pulling you in closer to him, greedy as he feels you up.

“Did you fantasise about this too? About me, like this?”

“This is better than I could’ve ever imagined,” Spencer says breathily. “You… You’re so attractive.”

“Could say the same about you,” you laugh, reaching to unbutton his shirt. His tie is already loose, hanging around his neck, but you want to see more. You undo the top few buttons, revealing more of his chest. You trail your finger over the exposed skin, letting your nail graze it slightly. You hear Spencer inhale sharply, and grin to yourself, proud of the effect you have on him. “So, do you want to just stand around and talk, or do you want to fuck me?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, and you chuckle. As if he hadn’t expected this was how it was going to go. Spencer purses his lips. “I mean, absolutely. I want to fuck you. But, um– We should definitely talk about this though.”

“Later,” you say, waving him off, before you lean in to kiss him again. Spencer grabs your waist again, like he needs to have you close. He lifts you slightly, making you squeak, but the both of you stumble over to the bed, unable to keep your hands off of each other, unable to keep your mouths off each other. You sit down on the bed, Spencer crowding you in with one of his knees on the mattress.

You loosen his tie and take it off, while Spencer moves to unbutton your shirt. HIs hands move deftly, eager to undress you, and he pulls away to marvel at the curve of your breasts in your bra when he pushes the satin shirt off of you. “Wow.”

“Wow yourself,” you say. You appreciate the view: a dishevelled, eager Spencer Reid in your bed, his hands all over you, his shirt half-undone, revealing tanned skin and a gorgeous body. “Need you to fuck me right now.”

Spencer laughs, perhaps a little incredulously, and he instead moves to take his shirt off instead. “I’ll- I’ll do that.”

“Good,” you say, distracted as you admire Spencer’s frame, the lines of his body, the softness of his stomach. He’s so hot you might die. “Very good.”

“I’m glad you like the view,” Spencer says, a little timid, like he’s shy to show off in front of you. He meets your gaze when you look up at him, caught in the middle of ogling him with no shame. 

You smile up at him sheepishly. “Please fuck me, Spencer.”

“Okay,” Spencer smiles, warm and gentle. He helps you slide your pants and underwear off your legs before you spread them. Spencer’s jaw drops, his eyes focused on the slick mess of your cunt. “Oh, my God.”

“Yeah?” you laugh, thoroughly amused with his reaction. “Show me how much you want me, too.”

Spencer’s hands are quick to push down his bottoms, dress slacks and boxer-briefs on your floor in an instant, wrapping a fist around himself as he works himself up for you. You can’t tear your eyes off of him – “Spencer, you’re… big.”

“Am I?” Spencer asks, and you’d lose your mind if you weren’t expecting Spencer to fuck your brains out. 

“You are,” you say calmly, because if you let yourself sound any more excited he might think you were insane. “But I can take you.”

Spencer grins. “Good.”

His fingers press against your cunt after you tell him to do so. His slender digits pick up all the slick that’s leaking from your hole, spreading it around messily as he toys with your clit. You shudder with the sensation, throwing your head back against the pillows. Then, one of his fingers slips into you, and he coaxes you open with a care you haven’t felt from most partners before. “How’s that?”

“So nice,” you groan, getting used to the feeling. He fucks you on his fingers, slow and careful, intent on stretching you out until you’re comfortable. You whimper and whine, feeling embarrassed at how vocal you’re being, but Spencer is kissing your breasts without a care in the world, and then you’re thinking about letting him know that you do feel good. Your next gasp is less ashamed, as Spencer coaxes a second finger in.

You’re panting as Spencer fucks you on his fingers, the repeated motion only working you up even more. The squelch from his fingers fucking you is obscene, and his eyes are wide as he looks at you. “You’re perfect,” he whispers. 

“Fuck me, Spence,” you say. 

Spencer bites his lip as he sits up and settles between your legs. He’s tugging at his cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. He slides his length along your folds, wet with your slick, and you groan at the friction. You grunt, wanting more, “Come on, Spence.” 

His hand on your leg, Spencer leans forward so he can press into you, and Spencer is practically folding you in half so he can fuck you. You moan at his thickness deep inside of you, filling you up, and the stretch is so undeniably amazing. Spencer’s length drags against your walls, such a delicious sensation deep in your bones, and you sob a little.

“Does that feel good?” Spencer asks softly, his voice tender. 

“So good, Spence,” you gasp. Spencer kisses your cheek, down your neck, and waits patiently for you to give him the go-ahead.

You feel his cock twitching inside of your heat, both your fantasies unable to live up to the real thing. Confident, cocky Spencer in your dreams is just that – a dream. The Spencer right in front of you is perfect, more perfect than what you’ve dreamed: shy but so attentive and sweet. He takes such good care of you. It makes you lose your mind a little bit.

“Fuck me,” you insist, and Spencer puts his hands on your hips as he starts to move. He fucks you deep, just the way you need him, and you cry out as he digs into your soft flesh, holding you tight so he can fuck you hard. The way Spencer pounds into you has your whole body trembling, pleasure coursing through you like electricity, till your mouth has fallen open and your toes are curling. 

“You’re so much better than I imagined,” Spencer groans, eyes squeezed shut as he puts all his energy into railing you. “Can’t believe this is real.”

You clench around him just to hear him moan, and you’re proud of yourself when his hips stutter and a groan rips through his throat in his pleasure. He glares at you. You grin, as Spencer keeps fucking you.

“What- Oh, fuck– What did you imagine? With me?” You gasp, as Spencer rolls his hips in a particularly deep thrust.

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, before looking down at you, like he’s really contemplating if he should say this. “I– I pictured bending you over the interrogation table. Fucking you, making you scream my name, taking you right there, I–”

You moan as Spencer hits that perfect spot inside of you, your legs trembling as you gasp, “I– Why did we have the same fucking fantasy? Fuck–”

“What? You thought of me that way too?” Spencer sounds incredulous, like he can’t imagine you thinking of him that way– As if he isn’t drilling you into the hotel bed right now.

“Fuck, Spencer– Oh, my God– Yeah, I– You had me pinned down on the table, and you were fucking me in the interrogation room, in front of all of them–”

“God, you’re perfect,” Spencer grunts, burying his head in your shoulder as he uses the leverage to fuck you deeper, harder, faster. You can’t stop moaning Spencer’s name, simply too overwhelmed with the pleasure he’s giving you, the way he’s fucking you into the mattress. This is all you’ve ever wanted. Spencer fucking you like a madman, giving you all the pleasure you need but still being greedy enough to take and take and take. 

“Please! Spencer, you– I’m gonna cum, I can’t–” You cry, sobs wracking their way from your throat, so loud but you can’t be bothered to keep yourself quiet. Spencer groans your name, a sweet, sultry sound, and you feel like you’re going to lose your mind. 

“Cum for me,” Spencer hums. “You’re so perfect, and you’re laid out like this all for me. You’re so fucking hot. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You’re sobbing as your orgasm hits you, overwhelmed by Spencer’s filthy words and his filthier actions, so intense as he fucks you into next week. It’s too good, and you lose yourself much sooner than you expect. Your pussy clenches tight around Spencer with your orgasm, sending him over the edge as he fills you up, cock twitching as he cums inside of you.

He collapses on top of you, his weight comfortable as you both catch your breath. Your mouth feels dry, but you don’t care when Spencer is leaning over to kiss you again. It feels so right, this wild feeling you only thought existed in your dreams.

The next morning when the team is gathered in the hotel lobby to head to the hangar to fly back to Quantico, Emily gives you a pointed look, and Rossi is clapping Spencer on the back with a knowing grin. You apologise sheepishly, while Spencer grows red, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team. He only meets your eyes, and the two of you share a smile. You can tell neither of you want this to end here. Maybe you’ll talk about it when you get back home. 

[ravenslvt]

imagine best friend leon comforts you after a break up but it turns south 🤔🤔🤔😛, soft sex is what he gives you

☆ bsf! leon x female!reader ☆

bestfriend! leon comforting you after a break up

☆ content warnings: smut , mentions of alcohol, mentions of cheating ☆

leon groans as he hears a knock at his door. the clock read 12:53am. who was coming over this late?

he stands up out of bed, not bothering to put a shirt on. he opens his front door, yawning.

all his annoyance completley dissipates when he sees you all teary eyed on his doorstep.

he says your name in concern, you just look up with the saddest look on your face. it sent a pang to his heart to see you like this.

he immediately figured it was your (asshole) boyfriend who was constantly flaking on you and (he assumed) was probably even cheating.

“sorry, i wasn’t sure if you were awake and i didn’t wanna call and-“ you start to ramble. he sighs, bringing you in to hug his bare chest. you didn’t mind, you’d seen him shirtless before. you’ve been bestfriends for almost four years.

“it’s ok, you don’t have to say anything.” he shushes you. he finally brings you into his messy apartment you’d been in countless times, but this time felt different.

“i just feel so fucking stupid. it was so obvious the whole time he was a dick i just was so delusional.” you’re on your second glass of wine now that leon had brought out for you two. he figured it would be nice to talk about your feelings and vent to him. you sit facing eachother on the couch in his living room.

you’d been with your (now) ex-boyfriend for only eight months. but leon always fucking hated the guy. he would always get mad when you would hangout with leon, thinking he had a crush on you or something, which he totally did.

you stopped crying now, you were just angry for wasting so much of your time with such a joke of a man. leon didn’t blame you. he let you rant.

“god, it didn’t help he fucking sucked at sex too. seriously he lasted like two pumps then knocked out. for EIGHT months!” you weren’t lying.

“you’re joking” he laughs, shifting in his seat on the couch. he never even bothered to put a shirt back on since you got here, still only in his baggy grey sweatpants.

“i’m serious. never made me cum once. he never even ate me out, said it was ‘too gross’ ” you scoffed, remembering how it was always about his pleasure and not yours. you felt leon’s eyes on you.

his eyes darkened.

his thoughts raced. that asshole never even ate you out? he’d kill to even touch you like that.

you noticed him go silent, one of his hands resting on his own thigh and the other arm was resting around the top of the couch.

“leon-“

“fuck that guy. seriously. any guy would be so lucky to even be allowed to be with you, to touch you.” leon’s voice is quieter than usual, but loud enough for you to hear. it felt like he was holding something back.

maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the supressed feelings for your bestfriend, but your eyes scanned him, suddenly consious of his shirtless state. how good his bare chest looked. how firm his muscled stomach was. how good his waist looked in those pants. his fucking arms.

and the way you could fully see the outline of his cock in his sweatpants.

your eyes shot back up to his face. only to see him staring at you.

“like… you?” you gulped, awaiting his response. you could see him thinking, practically hearing the gears turn in his head. he sighs your name, looking away.

“i-i can’t. not when your in this state.” he rubs his face with his hands. god his hands were big.

“leon i-“

“no, i like you way too fucking much to mess this up” he looks back at you, a genuine soft look in his eye.

you smile, he’s too sweet for his own good sometimes. you sit up straight, scooting closer to him.

“leon. i promise you, i want you.” you bring a gentle hand to cup his strong jaw.

his hands reach for your face, he uses one to brush a stray hair out of your face. he brings his forehead to yours.

“do you know how badly i want you? how long i’ve been waiting for you? you fucking kill me everyday i have to go without you.” he speaks lowly.

he leans in slowly, giving you a chance to pull away. but you don’t. your eyes flutter shut as your lips connect.

he starts the kiss out paced, allowing your lips to adjust to eachother. your hands go straight to his shoulders for support. you were afraid you’d fall over onto his carpeted floor.

“leon…” you panted his name between kisses, giving him an opportunity to greet his tounge in your mouth.

“what is it pretty girl?” he never pulled back as you two spoke, addicted to your lips.

“want you… need you, please” you practically whined into his mouth. he just smirked, giving you one last kiss before pulling away. you pouted for a second before he started to kiss down your neck slowly. exploring and biting until you showed him your sweet spot.

he bit your pulse point, making you softly yelp.

your hand automatically goes to the waistband of his sweats, but he stops you, swatting your hand.

“no, this is about you. ignore me” he warns.

“but-“ you pout

“no.” he sternly says, pushing you so your back was against the couch cushion, he was now on his knees between your thighs. you were going to argue, but seeing him like this brought no complaint from you. you were never used to this. but god were you excited.

he teasingly removes your shorts, leaving kisses in their wake. you gasped from the feeling, being left in your black panties. they had a little rose at the top center, making him smile.

“cute” his thumb goes over the rose, then moves over your clothed clit. you softly gasp and your hips automatically buck up to meet his touch.

he scrunches your shirt up, kissing your pelvis, then your stomach, and pushing your bra up to bring a nipple into his mouth. you squirm under him, already so needy for him. he pulls away with a pop.

he slowly reaches his hand into your already soaked panties, a look of suprise on his face.

“this all for me?” he nudged your sensitive clit with his knuckle. you suck in a breath, nodding.

he chuckles, using his free hand to pull your panties down while he continues rubbing your clit, rolling it between his fingers.

once they’re off, he stares down at your bare pussy, absolutely entranced.

“s-sorry. he only liked it when i was shaved” you looked away from him, a bit self conscious. you try clamping your thighs together.

he scoffs “what a fucking weirdo” he says before forcing your thighs to stay open with his strength. you always forgot how strong he was since he was always so gentle around you.

he moves his head to hover over your needy cunt, your thighs now around his shoulders. he looks up at you “is this ok?”

you nod.

“yes” you say. he moves in an instant, his hot mouth devouring you.

“fuck, leon!” you moan, covering your mouth with your hand. the other one gripped his dirty blonde hair.

his lustful eyes look up at you as his tounge works expertly against you. he studied your reactions, repeating the actions that made you squirm the most.

your thighs squeezed against his head, but he didn’t mind. he fucking loved that he was making you feel like this. his dick was raging in his pants, but he ignored it. tonight was about you. he’d make it about you everynight if he could.

he thrusted his long tounge into your hole, pumping it as he circled your clit with his nose. you almost screamed, his grip on your thighs getting tighter by the second. he shakes his head in a motion, teetering your orgasm.

you started to shake, almost drowning him in your wetness.

“i think i’m gonna-“ your thighs were so tight around him he swore you were crushing his skull. he quickens his mouth, the most pornographic noises coming from your pussy.

you let out the most delectable moans as you cum all over his face. he keeps licking and sucking until your shaking stops and you’re just panting, trying to push him off from overstimulation.

“s’too much” you pant, grabbing at leons hair. he finally pulls away, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. your face was completley flushed and eyes lidded. he smiled, leaning in to kiss you. you moan as soon as you taste yourself on his tounge. (your ex was wrong, you tasted fucking great)

you feel his hard buldge against your thigh, your brows furrow and a heat fills your gut. you reach out your hand to rub him through his pants. he lets out a needy groan, rutting into your hand. a wet patch growing in the front of the grey sweats.

“f-fuck. keep doing that and i’ll have to keep going, baby” he warns, but you didn’t stop. you keep eye contact as you rub the head of his cock through his sweats, the fabric adding extra stimulation. it twitched in your hand and he grabbed your wrisy, stopping you, though he didn’t want you to stop.

“i don’t wanna take advantage-“ he starts, but you cut him off before he can finish, rolling your eyes.

“leon stop. do you know how many dreams i’ve had of you fucking me? we’ve already gotten this far, so if you don’t fuck me right now i’m gonna walk out that door and-“ this time he cuts you off with a kiss, you smile into the kiss. you feel him smile back.

after a minute or two of sweet kissing, the moment gets heavy again. the kiss gets deeper and more messy.

you couldn’t help it, you slide his loose sweatpants off his figure and have to look down.

oh fuck. he was big.

he noticed your eyes widen and cheeks flush, his ego inflating a little.

“that’s not gonna fit, leon” you look back up at him, absolutely in awe of the man’s gorgeous cock. the tip was a raging pink color, it was curved upward like it was begging to be touched. precum sparkling at the edges.

he chuckles, kissing you on the cheek.

“oh yes it will”

he sits back up on his knees, dragging your legs twords him and grabbing one of the pillows from the couch, patting your hip to tell you to lift it so he can slide it under.

he gives himself a few more pumps, even spitting on his cock for extra lubricant, though you were already so wet he could probably slide in easily.

he lines himself up, looking up at you for one last chance for you to back away, but you just shimmy your hips to try and get him to put it in already. he takes that as a sign and slowly slides in.

you tense up as soon as the tip is in. he leans down, giving you a peck on the lips before rubbing your hips.

“relax, pretty” he sooths. a few more seconds and hes sinking in a little more, little by little he brings himself to a point where he can’t push in anymore. he was balls deep in your sopping pussy.

he waited a few moments until you were moving your own hips for some more stimulation.

“there you go, look at you.” he teases, pulling out almost all the way, only leaving his raging tip in before thrusting it back in. your back arched off the couch and he gripped your hips tigher. you felt heavenly.

all you could think about was how good his big cock felt inside of you. gently slamming in and out and in and out and in and out.

“more” you plead, looking down to where you two meet, there was a noticable buldge indented in your stomach from where his cock was in you, making you whine.

“of course” he whispers, leaning down to cage you in his elbows, throwing the pillow from under you somewhere across the room and instead using his strength to slam into you. your arms held him around his neck, one pulling at his hair unconsciously. your legs wrapped around his hips, encouraging him to go faster.

you’re both panting as you lean up to kiss him again. it wasn’t anything like your first kiss with him. it was all tounge and saliva and mess. but it was perfect for the moment.

you could feel him so deep, it felt like he was growing even bigger inside of you. you felt a familiar build up in your belly, the need of release. you pull away from the kiss to breathe. he lowers his head to suck your tits in his mouth, alternating between them and occasionally biting them gently.

“leonnn!” you moaned his name over and over as his pace got faster and faster.

he was holding back his own orgasm just so he could feel you clench around him.

“fuck, i wanted this for so fucking long, baby. you’re so-fuck- so perfect.” leon was losing his composure more and more by every thrust inside of you. your walls started to clench around him, making his face scrunch up.

you came around him, squeezing him, your nails dragging down his strong arms, leaving redish pink marks in their wake.

he just chanted your name mixed with compliments-how perfect you are around him, how pretty you are, how you were made for him.

“w-where can i-“

“inside, leon, please!” you whine, all you can think of is his cock dragging in and out of you.

he spills inside you with a groan, hips sputtering. he lays on top of you, holding himself up so he doesn’t crush you.

“s-shit are you…?” the realization hits him that he just came inside you.

“i’m on the pill” you assure, softly smile at him, both of you breathing heavily at this point.

he smiles back, kissing you and slowly pulling out, making you whine, he tucks himself back into his sweatpants, an obvious stain on the front of his pants.

he gently pulls your shirt back over your tits, but not before giving them a soft kiss each. you giggle at him.

“are you feeling ok? do you need anything?” he asks, stroking your head and fixing your loose hairs. acting like he wasn’t just fucking your brains out.

you nod, giving him another peck on the lips, this time he pouts when you pull away.

safe to say, you were over your ex.

a/n: raven try to write soft smut challenge: impossible. lowkey got carried away but i hope u like it!!

thank u for the request i lovedddd writing this mwuah <3

[sincerelyneo]

could i request a mark smut 😣😣 where reader and mark just had an intense argument but in the end, they cant be mad at each other for long so they just fck it out of each other 🤐🤐🤐🤐

mad at you | l.mk

“then i try to leave, but baby i just can’t stay mad at you”

💿now playing: mad at you by why don’t we

❯ summary: Mark learns that you’ve made a ‘selfish’ decision that’s bound to put a strain on your relationship. Next thing you know, you're knee-deep in an argument that somehow ends with you sprawled out beneath him; because, let’s be honest, he’s never really been any good at staying mad at you.

❯ pairings: idol!mark x fem!reader

❯ genre: angst, smut, established relationship, make up sex

❯ words: 4.3k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, lots of arguing, swearing, reader is lowkey dramatic, makeup sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), nipple play, dry humping, brief clit play, slight needy mark bc i can't help myself, creampie, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader and mark argue and resolve it by fucking.

an: i love writing angsty arguments (testament to my real relationships lol) so thank you so much for this request. it lowkey brought me out of writer’s block.

The honeymoon stage lasts approximately thirty months or two and a half years – which would make sense considering you and Mark were approaching your third year together and have argued more recently than you ever had. 

But this time it’s different. You’ve never seen Mark like this, so angry that his face is bordering red and his jaw ticks so hard it might crack as the both of you drive in complete silence from your work dinner. He doesn’t even bother sneaking his usual glances at you when he pulls up at stoplights, the hand he likes to place on your thigh is gripping the wheel instead, and the only noise in the car is his rugged and frustrated exhales. 

You could feign ignorance about why he's upset, but you know the reason all too well. And while a part of you acknowledges his right to be angry, another, more prideful part, resists the idea of apologising, especially when you think his reaction seems so disproportionate to your mistake.

So you sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed and body frozen, contributing to the cold silence settling between the two of you. You prepare yourself for the earful of a lecture you’re about to get when he pulls up outside your shared apartment. 

He parks the car, slams the door shut, and strides towards your building without a backward glance. You scoff at his pettiness; he's never been so angry that he wouldn't at least wait for you to get out of the car with him. He doesn't even slow down when you trail behind. And when he nearly lets the elevator doors close without you, any chance he has of receiving an apology from you flies out the window, you think. 

He does, however, show some decency by leaving the front door open for you as you both step out of the elevator and head towards your apartment – how chivalrous. 

The chivalry doesn’t last long because the minute he hears you clasp the door shut, he’s glaring at you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and you can't help but notice that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt in frustration. If he weren't on the brink of yelling at you, you'd be tempted to make him do more than just roll up those sleeves — you'd want the fabric torn off and thrown on the floor in an instant.

“Paris, Y/N?!” Mark seethes, voice deep and uneven. “You signed a fucking contract to work in Paris?!?”

You pause, attempting to gather your thoughts, but the momentary silence doesn't offer much clarity. Eventually, you settle on, "It's just a six-month gig..." – a statement that seems to send him into a frenzy. 

“Just six months?” He rubs his jaw repeatedly in disbelief, “That’s six months that we won’t get to see each other, did you even think about that huh?”

You scoff, “You’re one to talk, need I remind you that your job takes you away from me for months at a time.”

"That's not fair," he protests. "You knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. I didn’t agree to not seeing my girlfriend for months because she’s gallivanting away in Paris without me."

Your eyes narrow and your nostrils flare, “So what? If you would have known, you wouldn’t have wanted to be my boyfriend?”

His eyes widen and he shakes his head. His hands fly to his hair and he tugs at the strands as he huffs out a breath. 

“How the fuck did you get that conclusion from what I said?” He asks, voice sounding baffled. “The reason I’m so mad is because I like being your boyfriend, but I’m not going to see you for the next six months.”

“You’re being a hypocrite right now.”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Right, because I’m always the one being unreasonable.”

“Yes, you are,” you scorn, “This job is my dream, don’t you see how selfish you're being?”

“I’m selfish?” He gasps, “That’s rich considering you didn’t even consult me when making this decision, I had to find out from your smug little co-worker in front of everyone. You were thinking solely about yourself, Y/N.”

You're on the verge of screaming. How is he not seeing things from your perspective? He's usually so understanding, so open to hearing your side. But the razor-sharp look in his eyes tells you that there's no getting through to him. He's convinced you're wrong, and nothing will change his mind.

“It’s for my job, Mark,” you cross your arms and shrug. 

“And how many times have I told you that you don’t need to work? How many times do I need to tell you I can look after the both of us?”

“And how many times have I told you that I don’t want that? I don’t want to have to always rely on you!” You snap. 

Your teeth grit as the words spit out of your mouth. They seem to hit Mark, deep, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before sharpening again. He swallows thickly and blinks before running a hand through his hair. 

“Then what are we doing, Y/N?” He asks deflated, “What are we if you don’t want to rely on me?”

You're not sure what compels you to say it – whether it's the way you're all worked up, the entire context of the argument, or some inner recognition that you're the one who's fucked up this time despite you both having stuff to apologise for. Still, you escalate the situation from zero to one hundred without a second thought. 

“Oh, so you want to break up?”

He shakes his head and tongues the inside of his cheek, “When did I say that?!”

The fight only gets worse after that, the two of you blowing up after every sentence. You run around in circles, throwing accusations and insults at each other to the point the original premise of the argument is lost along the way of a thousand new arguments. It’s like every little thing you’ve both done to irk each other over the last month is brought up; and by the end of it, the two of you swear you’re done with each other. 

Sure, you've had your fair share of arguments, but the biting finality of the word "done" as it leaves his lips sends a sharp pang through your stomach – it hurts like hell. You've reached your limit with this endless cycle of back-and-forth; you've had enough of him. Storming past him, you head towards your shared bedroom.

Mark sighs and reaches out for your arm, but you pull away. He doesn't like this, doesn't like the chilliness he feels from you. He doesn't want to end the argument like this; it's never gone this far without a resolution before.

“You can’t just storm away when we argue Y/N, it’s childish.”

“If you don’t like it then leave!” You slam the door shut after you and lock it. 

Mark hates this more, not being able to talk this out because you’ve put a wall between the two of you. Then your words register in his mind and he’s the most hurt he’s ever felt. You want him to leave. Fuck that, he thinks. He’s not going to watch his relationship go down the drain over a petty argument. 

He knocks on the door a few times, then jiggles the doorknob, calling out your name and pleading for you to let him in. But you remain unmoved, denying him even the satisfaction of hearing your voice telling him to go away. This only adds to his frustration. He's the one you've upset, and yet here he is, begging for you to open up so he can fix things.

After a few more tries he scoffs, your words echoing in his mind once more. Leave. It crosses his mind as he makes his way to the front door of the apartment. He swings it open, ready to clear his head and crash at Johnny's for the night. But just as he's about to step out, he catches sight of a picture of the two of you on the coffee table where he keeps his keys. 

It’s from your honeymoon phase when it was easier for the two of you to say you’d never let anything come between you – when love seemed to blind you both. Mark picks up the photo, memories flooding back to the day it was taken. It was the day you met his parents and shared your aspirations of becoming a fashion designer. You reassured them that you had your own dreams and weren't just with their son for his wealth – though his parents wouldn't have minded either way; they would have been content with any girl that made their son happy. And you made Mark happy – you make Mark so fucking happy. 

Which is why he can’t believe he’s even considering leaving you in this apartment on your own after a fight. He shuts the front door and makes his way to the couch. He's eager to resolve things with you now, but both of you are too caught up in emotions, spouting shit you'll likely regret in the morning. So he opts to grab a few sofa pillows and a blanket from the storage closet instead. He strips down from his dress shirt and pants, throwing them to the floor before lying back and resting his eyes with a heavy mind.

Regret doesn't hit you until 2:00 am the following morning, when you're met with the chill of an empty space beside you as you reach out to cuddle your boyfriend, only to find him absent. Sure you thought he was overreacting to the news, but you're also painfully aware that your own words were uncalled for. You shouldn’t have asked him to leave – you didn’t want him to. 

As you heard the front door open and then close with a clink, a thick lump formed in your throat. The realisation that you had driven him away hit you hard, and you lost all motivation. You lay on your bed, makeup still intact, as you sniffled and sobbed quietly into your pillow. And even now, after tossing and turning from your mind running laps, you’d only managed to sleep for a few minutes. 

You stretch your stiff legs and reluctantly leave your bed, unlocking your bedroom door with sleepy eyes. You're taken aback when you see Mark sleeping soundly on the sofa, his breath steady with his eyes closed. You thought he had left, but there he is, covered only by the blanket from the storage closet. It breaks your heart to see him like this; he's likely cold, and he'll probably have a stiff neck in the morning for practice. And you know it's all your fault.

The guilt eats away at you, and without hesitation, you rush to the bedroom to grab his pillows and an extra blanket. Realistically, you should wake him up and insist he sleeps in bed, but the fear of his lingering anger keeps you from doing so. Instead, you kneel in front of him, attempting to swap the sofa pillows for his own bed pillows.

However, your efforts prove futile because Mark is a light sleeper – a detail you foolishly overlooked in your worried state of mind. He blinks as he wakes up once, then twice, appearing confused to find you in front of him in the living room instead of beside him in bed.

“Baby?” He whispers, his eyes hazy as he tries to make sense of what you're doing. It doesn’t take him long once he spots the sofa cushion in your hand to put the pieces together.  

You bite your lip and sigh, “I know you're mad at me, but I didn’t want you to wake up stiff in the morning.”

Mark's chest constricts. How could he possibly stay mad at you when you're so cute, fussing over him like this? He notices the smudge of black makeup beneath your eye, and his heart tightens once more – this time with sadness rather than affection.

His hand reaches out to touch your cheek, and you’re shocked at the touch. “You’ve been crying?” He asks and you bow your head. 

"I thought you left..."

Mark wants to laugh at the irony. You asked him to leave, and yet here you are, upset at the idea of his departure. He swears if he weren't so in love with you, he'd rant about how much you mess with his head, pushing him to the edge only to pull him back again.

“Would never leave you, baby, you know that,” his voice is soft and comforting as the rough edge of his fingertips finds your jaw. 

You can't control it; tears fall freely from your eyes. He's being incredibly considerate and gentle with you, even after you acted like a bitch. Honestly, you almost wish he'd just yell at you instead. But he doesn’t, his eyes widen and he immediately sits up straight letting the blanket fall to the floor as he pulls you up to sit on his lap. 

He shushes you, his hands finding your waist where he rubs soothing soft circles into the fabric of your tank top, “Hey, why are you crying? I’m here…please don’t get upset, Y/N.”

His kindness only amplifies your guilt. 

"I'm so sorry," you stifle in short sobs, your voice almost cracking. "I should've talked to you about the job offer before signing the contract... I-I didn't mean to act so selfishly. I just... I wasn't thinking."

Mark gives you a half-smile as he runs a hand through your hair. "It's okay, baby... You got caught up in your dream. I'm sorry for not realising that. I'm the one being selfish by always expecting you to put me first."

"No—"

He interrupts you to continue his apology. "You were right, you know. I always expect you to wait for me while I'm on tour. I never considered it from the other side, with me waiting for you... But I will. I'll wait because I know how much this job means to you."

Your face buries itself in the crook of his neck as you cry even harder, and he tuts gently while rubbing your back.

"Please don’t cry, Y/N," he murmurs softly. "I hate seeing you upset."

"Can’t help it," you muffle. "I hate that I upset you…"

Mark pulls you away from his neck, needing to look into your eyes as he speaks. "It's normal for couples to argue, baby. We just need to promise to communicate better, okay?"

His fingers stroke your cheeks again, and you lean into his touch. The warmth of his hand feels so comforting as if he was made to soothe your skin, the only person capable of bringing you relief. You bite your lip and nod against his palm, because you're more than willing to work on your communication if it means never feeling like this again.

"Now, give me a smile. You know, the pretty one I like," he says with a laugh. "If I'm not going to see you for the next six months, I don’t want one of our last moments together to be so... sad."

You smile at him and press your forehead against his with a whisper. "Me neither.”

You’re so close to each other that you’re practically sharing the same breath, if you had said that two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed yourself. But here you are, lips so close that your heavy breathing practically begs him to kiss you.

Mark feels it too, so when he does, it's like the softness of his lips is a bandage, mending the angry tension between the two of you. It patches up the last few hours that have transpired, and when he pulls away, it feels as if nothing even happened.

His hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers pressing down as he guides your body to grind against his clothed crotch. His lips find yours again, accompanied by a groan that escapes into your mouth. It's only when you feel him harden beneath you that you remember he was half-naked on the sofa – clearly after you locked him out of the bedroom.

Suddenly feeling suffocated by your own clothes, you pull away from him to strip off your tank top, tossing it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. You yearn to meet his lips again – the only place you truly feel safe – but Mark wants to savour the way you look. Your clothed cunt eagerly grinding against his hard-on, hips chasing a high so eagerly that your bra strap has slid loosely down your arm.

You're a vision, Mark thinks, one that has him salivating and desperate to fuck you. He almost curses at himself for nearly ruining it all, for nearly walking out on the most beautiful person on the planet, the best sex he's ever had – and not only that but also the funniest, sweetest person he knows he'll ever meet.

He leans into your neck, his nose nuzzling into you as he whispers softly, "I'm sorry... so sorry, Y/N." His hand leaves your hips to cup your breast over your bra, massaging the mound with just enough pressure to elicit soft moans from your lips.

“‘s okay,” you whimper. 

Your head falls back as his hand snakes around to unclasp it. He wastes no time brushing his intrusive fingers down your chest, wearing a filthy smirk because he knows just how sensitive you are there. The tip of his finger circles around your nipple until he’s right in the centre, feeling it harden under his touch. He pinches it, and you jolt forward on his cock, making his boxers tighten, and he groans.

He loves how responsive you were to him, watching you writhe over him as he touched you in torturous pleasure. Just the way you arch your back into his touch has pre-cum leaking out of his cock. 

He leans in this time, sucking on your nipple and opening wide to get as much of the tender tissue of your breast in his mouth as possible. He holds your waist in place to keep you grinding on him to entice enough friction for him to feel good too. 

And when he looks down to see where the two of you meet, he moans when he sees the wet patch leaking through your shorts onto his boxers. 

“Fuck, so wet for me, baby. Just for me.”

You whimper, and his hand slips into the hem of your shorts. You’re glad you never wear panties to bed because his fingers find your clit immediately, relieving you of some of the neediness you’ve been feeling from grinding down on him. He rubs small circles as his mouth licks and sucks and nips at your bud. 

“Mark…” 

“Shhh baby,” he coos, “wanna make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you, let me make you feel good.” 

You whimper with a nod of your head, humping into his hand, legs opening wider to give him easier access to the place you’re most sensitive. You let out mild pants, hips bucking more aggressively from the stimulation on both your nipple and clit.

And when Mark notices you getting close, he pulls off your tit to look up at your face. It’s his favourite part — watching your features contort when the bliss is at its highest. It makes his chest swell with pride knowing he’s the one making you cum, knowing his touch is enough to make you shake and moan. And if he wasn’t such a selfish lover, he’d think the sight is something everyone should see at least once.

As you come down from your orgasm, your eyes flutter open to meet him. Mark doesn’t know whether it’s from seeing your orgasm paired with the argument from earlier but he’s the hardest he’s ever been. 

You notice it too, looking down and giggling. “Now it’s my turn to make it up to you.” 

He lets out a soft huff, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he nods. You free his cock from his boxers and shimmy yourself out of your shorts. You let out identical gasps when your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his cock. 

Slowly, you sink onto him, fully feeling him inside of you. Your head falls forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you take in the size of him, the way he fills you just right — the way he always does. 

The stretch as you take him in never gets old, eliciting the same whimpers and whines. You can feel his hands resting on your hips, then slipping to the bend of your waist, silently urging you to move as he presses you downwards.

You lift your hips, slow and steady as you let the sensations wash over you, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. His grip on your body tightens as you sink back down, blunt nails digging into your skin. The sounds he makes only drive you further into finding a teasing rhythm because his voice is just so pretty. The sounds are soon muffled to your disappointment when his mouth presses into your skin, so his tongue can slide along the top of your breast — making the disappointment fade away real quick. 

You let out a breathy cry, hands rising from where they’ve been resting, flattening against his chest, to wrap around his shoulders. The slow pace you’d adopted was becoming not enough. And you could tell from the way Mark is rutting his hips up to meet you, he shares the same sentiment. 

Your mouths collide as you pick up the pace, using his shoulders to leverage yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. When he breaks from the kiss, an unrestrained groan slips past his lips, low and rough, followed by another, and you have to bite back a whimper of your own.

Mark can’t help the noises, he just loves the way you swivel your hips in a way that makes him see stars. He loves watching you work yourself on him for pleasure – he loves when you ride him.

And right when you squeeze around him, he rewards you with a loud, obscene groan, a sound that makes you dizzy and limp. Everything about Mark is intoxicating and downright addicting, and you were in no hurry to kick that addiction. In fact, you craved more of it – needed more. 

You grab his hands and guide them across your body. He squeezes them at your hips, smoothing across your thighs, your stomach. His hands were everywhere, eyes dark and desperate, wordlessly begging for you to give him what he needed, the same thing he’d been kind enough to already give you. 

So you rock yourself forward, providing a new type of friction that makes you whine helplessly into his skin. Blunt nails mark into the plush of your thighs, a futile attempt at grounding himself. The upward thrust of his hips and the strained catch of his breath tells you that he's growing impatient. You know the pace was slow, but damn it, it felt so fucking good to feel him like this, every inch of him sliding into you, hitting all the spots that makes your brain stop working. It also felt like a sick little way to get revenge...

“Faster,” you hear him say. “Please baby, need it faster.”

You could feel his hips bucking up to meet you. Then his thumb finds your clit, working in circles and making you squeeze around him with a shrill, gasping cry. It was his attempt at bargaining with you, doing anything to make you speed up and shamelessly fuck yourself on his cock. Maybe if he pleases you, you’ll let him cum.

“Please fuck me properly baby, need it,” he rasps, “You want me to forgive you right?”

And then you remember what led you here in the first place. You’d upset him and now you’re teasing him – you suppose it’s only fair if you pick up the pace a little more, fuck him messily and desperately enough to have him dizzying towards his climax. 

And once you do, his thrusts grow sloppier, and your thighs start aching. It feels too fucking good so all that you can do is cling to him and let him take the lead, strong hands guiding you as he sucks against your neck. And even though you’re supposed to be the one making him cum, you find yourself buried in the crook of his neck, gasping as your walls clench and nails dig into the skin of his strong back. 

The slight stinging sensation is enough to work Mark over the edge, and you feel him twitch inside of you, sending shock waves up your spine as he fucks his cum inside of you with a final powerful thrust. You roll your hips to help him along, taking all you can get from him and he moans his appreciation as you do. 

You remain tangled up in one another as you come down from your respective highs with foreheads pressed close. You wrestle to find his hand, lacing your fingers with his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He kisses your nose, then your lips, with a tenderness that makes your heart feel like it’s being squeezed. 

You don’t want to move just yet, so you release your hands and wrap them around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his before you speak.

"Mark?" You mumble, your voice tired and hazy. He hums in response.

"I’m sorry," you say softly.

You feel his smile against your mouth before he kisses your lips. "It’s okay, baby. I don’t even remember what we were fighting for."

[lubdubology]

Soft Edges

SYNOPSIS: Logan doesn't know how to relax. So you help him.

PAIRING: Worst!Wolverine x fem!reader (Although minus the quick blip mention about the Void, you could imagine any Logan you'd like)

WC: 2K

WARNINGS: sexually suggestive innuendos; non-explicit descriptions of nakedness; playful banter; kissing; mild swearing; feeeeeelings; honestly, just tooth rotting fluff

A/N: I haven't written anything four hundred and eighty years seven years and I'm honestly kind of nervous about this. I thought my writing muse was long dead and buried. But here it is, seemingly revived. The idea for this story kind of just fell out of my head when I should have been napping while my toddler napped. The story won out. I hope you like it! <3

You wake with a jolt to the sound of Logan’s alarm blaring from his phone. From beside you comes Logan’s low, “Ah, fuck,” before silence reclaims the room. 

It’s early, the first rays of morning light just barely peeking above the horizon. You roll over and peer over your pillow to find Logan pulling on a pair of jeans. 

“I thought you were off today,” you mumble sleepily, laying your head back down and admiring the way his muscles move as he slips a shirt over his shoulders. 

He looks back at you with a soft smile. “Didn’t mean to wake you,” he says, continuing to dress. “Picked up an extra shift at the yard.”

Since returning from the Void, Logan had picked up a smattering of odd jobs to earn money. A couple of months working at a quarry. A per diem for a local contracting company. Currently a lumber yard thirty minutes outside of town. Despite notoriety for helping save the entirety of existence, some employers still had qualms about hiring someone from another universe. Not that he cared. You think he was just happy being useful. 

You reach for him and pull him down for a kiss. You can feel the curve of his smile against your lips and it’s these soft moments about him you love the most. “Do you even know how to relax?” you ask, snuggling back down against the rumpled sheets. 

“I relax,” he replies, standing up to grab his boots at the end of the bed. 

You can’t help the snort that escapes from you. “Name one thing you to do relax,” you counter, watching through half lidded eyes as he sits back down on the bed to lace up his boots. 

Logan pretends to think about it and then smirks. “You.”

He chuckles as you whip his pillow at him, your aim off as it sails harmlessly past his head and onto the floor. You hide your smile as he looks down at you, his eyes warm but still tired. “Relaxing really ain’t my style, sweetheart.” 

“You deserve it though,” you say, stifling a yawn. 

Logan looks down at you for a moment, his smirk fading as something softer settles in his expression, but he doesn’t respond to your statement. He stands and shrugs on his jacket, straightening out the collar before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“Go back to sleep,” he murmurs.

You watch him leave and as you settle down to steal a couple more hours of sleep, you hatch a plan to show him just how nice relaxing can be. 

+++

You hum to yourself as you cook, the aroma of roasted potatoes and chicken filling the apartment. You’re just about to start on the green beans when you hear the jingle of Logan’s keys in the lock and the door swings open with a heavy creak. 

“In here, babe!” you call from the kitchen. 

“I could smell this all the way downstairs,” he comments, tossing his keys on the counter. “What’s this for?”

Logan wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you tight against his frame, nuzzling his nose where your neck and shoulder meet. With a smile, you reach back and lightly scratch your nails through the scruff along his jaw. He smells like sawdust and smoke as you press a light kiss to his cheek. 

You savor these moments with him. When you’d first met him, he was distant and wary, years of trauma causing him to be guarded. He warmed up slowly, his touches lingering longer and his words spilling more freely. But now, moments like this—where he’s soft and affectionate—have become more frequent. Logan craves touch and you are more than willing to reciprocate. 

“I thought you could use a nice dinner,” you say, your hand still tracing the line of his jaw. “Long day?”

Logan lets out a low grunt in response, his forehead resting against your shoulder. “One of those days where every idiot with a hammer thinks he can DIY,” he mutters, his breath warm against your skin. 

You smile and give his head an affectionate pat. “Well, you’re home now and I’ve got everything handled here. Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes.”

He pulls back just enough to look down at you, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Sure you don’t need help?”

“You try and help me, and I’ll beat you with this spoon,” you tease. 

Logan laughs and raises his eyebrow. “Promise?”

You smirk, giving him a playful nudge to the ribs with your elbow. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Logan.”

Logan’s eyes crinkle at the corners, the kind of smile that softens all his sharp edges. He gives your waist a gentle squeeze before stepping back, his fingers lingering just a beat longer. “Alright, alright,” he says holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll just go wash up.” 

As Logan retreats to the bathroom, you hear the rustle of him changing out of his work clothes and the thud of his boots as he tosses them to the floor. You finish dinner, resuming your quiet humming as you set the table. You finish plating everything when Logan emerges, work clothes changed for a fresh t-shirt and jeans. 

“Come eat, Lo.”

He joins you at the table and gives you an appreciative look as he sits down. “This smells incredible.”

You sit across from, watching as he takes the first bite, a prickle of anxiety setting along your spine as you wait for his reaction. A low groan of pleasure rumbles in his throat. “Fuck, this is good.”

A grin spreads across your face as he takes several more bites like a man starved. “I experimented with the cast iron skillet,” you comment as you watch him. “Looks like it was a solid impulse purchase.”

The two of you settle into a comfortable rhythm, enjoying the meal and sharing small pieces of conversation. Logan helps himself to seconds and as he finishes, he wipes his mouth with a napkin and sets his gaze on you. “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” he says, his voice low and warm. 

“I wanted to,” you reply simply. “And, like I told you this morning, you deserve it. Let me help you relax, Logan.”

There’s a pause, his expression softening as your words settle over him. You know he’s not one to ask for much and you can tell his savoring this moment. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” His voice is gruff but there’s a tenderness there that makes your chest ache. 

“A good something?”

He smiles. “The best somethin’.”

You finish dinner, swatting him away when he offers to help clean up and banishing him to the living room. Dishwasher loaded and leftovers put away, you join him on the couch. “Care to indulge me once more?”

He quirks his eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

+++

Logan stares at you dubiously as you lead him to the bathroom and gesture towards the tub. You flash him a grin as a frown tugs at the corner of his mouth. “It’s just a bath, Logan.”

He eyes the tub as if he’s waiting for it to swallow him whole. He crosses his arms across his chest. “I don’t do baths,” he mutters. 

You roll your eyes and place your hand on his chest, gently pushing him further into the bathroom. “Yeah, and you don’t relax either. Just humor me.”

Logan gives you a look—half amused, half reluctant—as he allows you to continue to nudge him closer. He reaches up and scratches at the back of his neck and blows out a sigh. “Fine,” he grumbles, “but only if you join me.”

You laugh softly, leaning up to press a kiss to his chin. “Tough bargain, but I accept.”

You turn from him and run the faucet, letting the tap run until you find the temperature sweet spot. Satisfied, you toss in some bath salts, the scent of eucalyptus quickly filling the room. The tension in Logan’s posture eases as you finish preparing the bath, but he still eyes you like he’s not entirely sure what comes next. 

Once the tub is filled, you shut off the tap and turn back towards him. “Okay, now strip.”

Logan smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so this is what you really wanted.”

“You’re not that hard to get naked, Logan,” you say with a laugh. 

He chuckles, but follows your instruction, pulling his shirt over his head. As you join him in undressing, you can’t help but admire his physique, his muscles flexing and gliding beneath his skin. You shimmy your panties down your hips as he kicks off his pants, leaving you both bare. 

You feel his gaze heavy on your skin as you step into the tub and beckon him to join you. He steps in, sitting down so his back is against your chest and he lets out a low groan as the warm water envelopes him.  Wrapping your legs around his hips, you cradle him and feel the tension ease from his muscles. 

“See?” you say, leaning to press a kiss to his temple. “Isn’t this nice?”

Logan peeks up at you and smirks. “The naked woman helps.”

You grab a washcloth and dip into the water to dampen it before running it over his chest. “You don’t have to admit you like it,” you say, rubbing the cloth in gentle circles along his collarbones. “You’re basically a wet noodle in my arms.”

He makes a wordless noise in the back of his throat and closes his eyes as you continue to wash him. A comfortable silence surrounds you, soft drops and splashes of water and the faint background hum of your apartment the only noises interrupting your space. You continue to wash him, gently massaging his shoulders, arms, down to the long fingers that know how to play you so well. A deep groan rumbles through his chest as you rub your fingers across the skin in between his knuckles. 

You eventually let the washcloth sink and wrap your arms Logan’s chest. He molds his arms against yours, lacing your fingers together. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. 

You shake your head and hold him just a little tighter. “You do, Logan. Despite your past, you’re a good man and you deserve someone to help shoulder your burdens.” Your voice is sincere as you press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Or least help you relax every once in a while.”

You soak until the water cools just enough to chill your skin. Reluctantly, you untangle yourself from him and nudge him to stand. He’s already got a towel slung low across his hips as you step out and he doesn’t even let you grab your own before pulling you close. 

A yelp dies on your lips as he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs pressing into the corners of your jaw as he tilts your mouth up to him. He inhales deeply through his nose, his lips moving expertly over yours, his tongue seeking the warmth of your kiss. 

You lean into him, your fingers trailing along his ribs and pressing into the damp of his skin. Logan kisses you once more, a gentle press to the corner of your mouth before he lets you go. 

“So,” he starts slowly, “Now that you’ve shown me how you relax, can I return the favor?”

A mischievous gleam dances in his eyes and he doesn’t give you time to answer before slinging you over this shoulder. Your giggles echo down the hallway as he carries you and he kicks open the bedroom door before setting you down on the bed. You scoot back and stare up at him with an expectant glance.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he says with a grin, “My turn.”

[bbokicidal]

"Are you serious...?" - Angst! [Hyung Line SKZ]

Notes : These are all obviously fictional situations, the red flags are just based off of habits we know they have (like Chan's need to be needed, Changbin being blunt/honest.) This post isn't me saying I think they have these red flags, it's just a fun angsty prompt I wrote down. If you don't like it, scroll and don't read.

If people like this - a maknae line will be written! If not, prolly not lol.

Warnings : Angst with no comfort, red flag behavior - some of these aren't even that bad or could be misunderstandings but still.

Maknae Line | "Good Luck, Babe." Part Two!! Here!

BangChan - Brushing off/Having the wrong priorities

One time, it was him forgetting a dinner date - the next, he was staying at the studio late when he was supposed to be meeting your parents for the first time. You let it slide because ultimately you understood that his job took up a lot of his time, and honestly? It wasn't easy to forget about but he had a tendency to take care of you and make up with it by quick gestures before he left the apartment or when he came home; Soft back hugs, quick cuddles before he fell asleep, or kisses in passing. Lately, however, he's been slacking. He'd begun to shrug you off any time you'd touched his arm or hand, nudging you away while he typed on his laptop. He'd tip his head away from yours while laying in bed together or he'd sit further away on the dressing room sofa.

The tipping point was when he was getting ready to go on stage and was standing in wait for the others to be ready. There was still five minutes and Chris looked a bit jittery, so you figured a quick hug or kiss would help ease his nerves. However as soon as you approach and reach to touch his arms, he steps back and keeps his eyes trained on his phone. You reach again, hesitant, and his brow furrows as he maneuvers to the side to get away. "Don't touch me."

Your lips pop apart in surprise. "...Are you serious?"

He looks over, eyes briefly wandering your face before he reaches to fix his in-ear and walks away to the door, disappearing around the corner and leaving you standing there alone. Even the soft touch of Felix's hand on your back as he passed by was warmer than anything you'd felt from Chris in the last two months.

Lee Know - Keeping secrets / Prioritizing Privacy within himself

Minho had a very, very bad habit of not telling you things. In this instance; That he was leaving for tour in two days.

A world. fucking. tour. The only reason you didn't know about it was because you hadn't been out of your home in the last few weeks unless it was for a quick coffee at the cafe or to grab lunch with a friend. Work was heavy during this time of year and as someone who worked remotely, you often spent grueling hours in your office on your computer - hunched, tired, head pounding and back sore.

So you would think that when you entered your bedroom one evening after just finishing up sorting files in your office, you'd be happy to see your boyfriend already there. And you were for a moment, until you realized he was packing three rather large suitcases full of his clothes and necessities. He looks to you, then away, wordless.

"Are.. you.. moving out, or something?" You breathe in a laugh, eyes wandering over Minho as he folds a t-shirt and tucks it into his suitcase with the others.

"No. I have to bring all of my luggage to the company building tomorrow so they can have it at the airport when we leave for Australia."

"Australia?" Your brows quirk. "When -- Why --"

"Tour." He stops his movements to stare over at you, a hint of irritation evident on his face. "We're going on tour for six months."

"Six--" You breathe out, eyes widening. "Six months. And you didn't think to tell me?"

Minho moves to drop a pair of pants in his suitcase. "I would've told you if you could handle the news, maybe. Every time I mention leaving all you do is whine and pout about how long I'll be gone."

"I get upset, yes, what girlfriend wouldn't be upset that her boyfriend is leaving for a week or two? But six months, Minho, I --"

"Don't start." He all but huffs out the words, shutting you up immediately. Minho turns away to continue folding items of clothing on the shared bed and as you watch him do so, you stand and have to wonder if you want to be there when he returns home from the tour.

Changbin - Not knowing the difference between being rude and being blunt

He didn't seem to understand when to stop. Changbin had a tendency to be honest, sometimes to a fault, though you never seemed to complain about it because most of the time it wasn't a big deal. He called Jeongin out for saying the wrong word when singing, or blatantly threw people under the bus when a joke was taken too far.

And he was like that with you, too. He would be honest with you when you asked his opinion of something - was the shirt unflattering? Were you being too loud? Was your makeup bad today?

He'd lay it on you point blank. Yes, the shirt fit a little weird. Yes, you were being a bit loud in his ear. And yes, your eyeliner was going in two different directions. Criticism that was asked for. But when it wasn't asked for? Oh.

"What is your problem?" He bites as he follows you down the hallway to your bedroom. "We have ten minutes, just wear the damn dress and put your shoes on. We have to go."

Your huffs mix with stifled sobs as you rip open your dresser drawer and dig for other options, hands shaking and eyes teary. "You just told me the dress looks ugly, Changbin. I'm not wearing it out if you don't like it--!"

"What does it matter if i don't like it? It's your body, wear what you want!"

"You're my boyfriend!" You retaliate, frustrated. "I want to look nice for you and -- for the group, and I want you to like what I wear, obviously!"

Changbin lets his eyes roll before he turns out of the bedroom doorway and down the hall. You pause to watch him go, listening as he bites about how he doesn't have time for this and needs to leave for the group dinner. You stand in front of your dresser in shock as the door to your apartment slams shut, leaving you in silence and all on your own.

Hyunjin - Being too cocky / Making you feel inferior

It hadn't happened before now, and you weren't sure why it happened at all. But it did.

You'd approached to gently hold onto your boyfriend's arm as he talked to an older idol - someone he looked up to and had just done a collaboration video with. You'd only come up to tell him that the food was delivered and he could have dinner before his stage, but the look he gave you when he finally turned his head was .... wild.

No words were needed. The way his eyes directed to the side you stood at before falling as if looking you over and then immediately looking away; The way the smirk on his lips only widened and his tongue pushed at his canines as he redirected his gaze elsewhere. The soft scoff that left his lips. The way his arm slipped away from your hold in clear nuance that he didn't want you touching him.

It made you feel like less. Like he was pretending he didn't know you - Like he wanted you to bug off and disappear from his line of sight.

Hyunjin had a tendency to put on a confident, bold persona when he was on stage and at first you thought maybe that was why he was acting this way. It was lingering in his body from the dance video he'd just filmed with the other idol and eventually, it would wear off.

But as he turned from you and lifted a hand to fix his hair, he talks to the other as if you're not even there at all. And you have to wonder if it's a persona for the video, or a side of him you had just experienced for the first time. Now you could only hope it wouldn't happen again.