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#let him free. release him into the world.
mariasont · 3 days
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Date Night - A.H
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a/n: i have been so obsessed with the nanny recently so this is kind of based off that
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader
summary: you get home from the world's worst date
warnings: none i think, IDK IM SO BAD AT THESE
wc: 0.9k
To put it quite frankly your date sucked. He was disrespectful to the waiter, made really unsettling noises while eating, talked incessantly about his ex, and worst of all, he didn't let you get a word in edge wise (a major issue because you really like to talk).
Saying you were disappointed would barely scratch the surface. The rarity of your dates, thanks to your demanding role as a live-in nanny for Viriginia's most occupied FBI agent, made your free time all too precious. Mr. Hotchner was home this weekend, which granted you some time off, well-deserved you might add, but you had wasted it on some sad excuse of a man who made you believe that chivalry really was dead.
You had a clear mission when you entered the house: to drown the evening's disappointment in a generous pour of red, slip into your comfiest pajamas, and indulge in trashy reality TV, which, by comparison, casted your night in a much more flattering light. You were beginning to accept that maybe, you were meant to be alone, only because men sucked.
You all but threw your jacket into the closet, kicking off the pumps that had spent the night punishing your heels, and bent to rub the throbbing pain, releasing a sigh steeped in disappointment.
"You're home early."
Your heart leapt to your throat, hand flying to your chest on reflex as you whirled around to face the sight of Mr. Hotchner lounging in the armchair, a whiskey glass cradled in his hand. The light from the lamp beside him served to accentuate the shadows beneath his eyes, no doubt caused by his job. So, what he was doing up was beyond you.
"Geez, Mr. Hotchner, are you trying to give me a heart attack here?"
A mock frown creased your face, and you sauntered over to his chair. You settled on the armrest beside him and smoothly relieved him of the glass, taking a small, savoring sip. Annoying him was one of your favorite pastimes, one that was all too rare with his usual absence.
"So, what's the occasion? Waiting up for me?"
He wasn't amused, clearly, his face unchanging. With a deliberate motion, he took the glass back, taking another casual drink, and despite his stern look he didn't move away from you. His eyes shot you a sharp glance, withholding any spoken response.
With a light tap on his shoulder, you hopped down from the arm of the chair.
"It's okay, you don't have to say it. I can read you like a book," you tossed him a wink, your dress flirting with the edge of modesty at the quick action. His eyes briefly betrayed him, moving towards the expanse of flesh now on display. "Ahem, Mr. Hotchner, my face is a little higher."
You gently nudged his chin upward with your finger, guiding his attention to your eyes. You loved his eyes, a cocoa brown color that reminded you of rich, velvety chocolate truffles, a comparison you were pretty sure had slipped out when he interviewed you.
"Careful," he cautioned in a low murmur, easing himself from the chair and setting his glass aside. "As your employer, it's reasonable for me to be concerned about your well-being, you are the woman who raises my child."
"Oh, absolutely, sir. Your concern is most reasonable and duly noted," you replied with an exaggerated formality, lightly tapping his cheek before neatly tucking your hands behind your back.
He traced his brow with his fingertips, as if to smooth away the beginnings of a headache, undoubtedly brought on by you. A sigh of exhaustion followed. "I trust I don't need to remind you of who signs your paycheck."
With a beaming smile, you sing out, hands moving to rest on your hips. "Totally clear on that, sir!" You turn and head up the stairs, your mumble just loud enough for him to catch, "A little raise wouldn't hurt though, just saying!"
He's close behind as he warns in a low voice, "Don't push your luck."
You stop so suddenly he almost stumbles into you and you feel his hands steady you on your hips, dangerously close to the curve of your ass as you glance back at him.
"Oh, I wouldn't dare, sir."
A slight shake of his head and those perceptive eyes convey all he doesn't say as his hands fall away, the space they leave behind feeling oddly empty. 
"So, the date didn't go well?" he asks as you reach the top of the stairs.
"No, I didn't say that. It was wonderful, perfect actually." You'd always been a terrible liar, and naive for thinking he'd fall for it. "He might just be the man of my dreams."
He gives you a look that tells you he sees right through your bullshit. "Let me guess, he probably ordered for you without asking, talked over you, and didn't even bother to walk you to your door."
"Uh, no, that's not--," you start, voice squeaking slightly. His unimpressed look makes you fold--something you found yourself doing way too often around him. "Okay, fine. But really, using those weird FBI skills on me? That's playing dirty, Mr. Hotchner."
"No 'weird FBI skills' required," he replies, the slightest smirk gracing his stupidly handsome face. "Your taste in men is just... consistently interesting."
"Interesting is better than non-existent, which I believe is the current state of your dating life, Mister."
He moves closer, the narrowing space nudging you against the wall. "Well, considering my days are filled with work, parenting, and apparently, babysitting you, dating isn't exactly a priority."
He was kind of hot when he was mad. His eyes narrowed at you. Okay, not kind of, definitely hot when mad.
"Oh, Mr. Hotchner, it sounds like you need a night off from all that babysitting," you purr, placing your hands on his shoulders as you grace him with a smile. "Why don't we discuss your options over dinner? My treat?"
A sigh of exasperation escapes him, a telltale sign that he's done with the conversation, which actually is how a lot of your discussions end. He steps back and opens the door to your room. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Mr. Hotchner, see you in the morning," you say, your hand pausing on his arm just a beat too long. "Sweet dreams--though I'm sure I'll be in them."
taglist: @hotchhner
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bunnysbrainrot · 1 day
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A Lesson in Manners
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Relationship: Dean Winchester x f!Reader
Content: Romantic tension, protective Dean, alcohol consumption, a weird guy ft. the way Dean handles it.
Summary: After a long, exhausting day of hunting, Team Free Will unwinds with drinks at a nearby bar. You're enjoying your time until a stranger decides to pester you, but that won't go unnoticed by Dean.
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The signature purr of the Impala faded as Dean turned off the ignition, releasing a heavy sigh, a defeated and tired noise. Whatever nasties they have down here in Georgia have been difficult. All signs in this case were pointing to a djinn, but without getting in closer, there was no way to be completely sure.
That risk was left to Sam and Dean, as they had told you yesterday, when the research finally fell into place.
Sam's lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at his laptop screen, his brows twitching. He deadpanned and looked to his brother, "Djinn. How the hell didn't we think of that yet?"
Dean matched Sam's frustration with a scoff. He simply shook his head.
Djinn were unfamiliar to you still. Though you had done a fair bit of research, helpfully guided by Sam, and learned quite a lot. But, you also knew that research and experience were very, very different for a hunter.
"Awesome, so... what?" Dean inquired, raising a brow at Sam. You sat in the small armchair in the boys' motel room, looking between them. "We gonna go into blood-sucking paradise-dream-world again?"
Sam flashed a quick smile, "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that. Do we have any more lamb's blood?"
Dean's expression changed to annoyance, "Not after that dickbag Balthazar used it for that stupid parallel-universe crap." He crossed his arms over his chest and threw his head back in thought. "And where are we supposed to get it, anyway? We're in the middle of friggin' nowhere."
"Cas?"
"If we could even get a hold of him."
"I'm sure he's still listening, Dean. I know he's been here and there for a while, but-" Sam explained.
Whirling to face his brother, Dean countered, "'Here and there'? Sam, we basically wait three to five business days for him to give us anything. If he's so focused on Heaven right now, let him stay up there."
You had seen Dean's rising upset with his friend for a few weeks now, seeing the angel's presence less and less. Castiel didn't indulge any details, and kept recollections vague - but, the lack of transparency had been taking a toll on the group.
He’d been absent for two weeks now. Nothing.
Dean's lengthy sigh showed his stress. He brought a hand up to his brow; Sam rolled his head to stretch his neck in the passenger seat.
"I need a fuckin' beer," Dean breathed.
You laid a hand on his shoulder from the seat directly behind his - Sam was more conversational on long drives, so sitting on the left side gave good distraction in the long hours on the road. Dean craned his neck to you, looking to you expectantly.
Because as much as he didn't like to admit it, Dean craved the moments when you touched him.
You couldn’t tell if you spooked him, judging by the way Dean froze in his seat, eyes boring directly into yours. A grin spread across your face, "Let's get shitfaced."
Dean shook his head and pointed to you, "You don't wanna get to shitfaced level with me, sweetheart. Just a few beers. Plus, I’ve seen you get tipsy even after one."
Each of you started stepped out of the Impala, respectively stretching your achy legs, or arms, or backs or neck and everything else. No matter the hunt, the soreness remained the same. You released a groan as you lean backward, flexing your stiffened spine. Dean neared and landed a gentle pat between your shoulders to get you moving along.
You noticed how quickly Dean pushed ahead to open the front door, before you had the chance to lift a finger. He looked into the cracked door - an assessing glaze cast over his eyes. Always on the lookout for danger.
Who could keep you safer than Dean Winchester?
After all of his impressive feats so far, it’d be hard for someone not to admire Dean. Saving the world was easier on the drawing board, and with having been to hell and back, you couldn’t fathom the willpower he gained to push past it. Not a semblance of that traumatic experience showed in that handsome, stoic face.
Dean pressed the door ajar to make way for you and Sam. You scanned the tables and stools at the bar; patrons scattered around in clusters, each chattering and laughing amongst themselves.
The thick smell of liquor filled the air. You noticed the hints of whiskey, oddly reminding you of Dean, and the way that scent mixed with his cologne. You memorized that smell from his occasional hugs, or times where you’d sit together, and you’d wondered if he could hear your heart hammering in your chest.
Sam led the way toward a taller table in the corner of the joint, settling in a stool closest to the back emergency exit. You eyed the stool at the outer side, but a creeping feeling dawns on you - someone is staring. Settling into your stool, you took the chance to swivel around, looking for the source of that persistent feeling.
At the bar, a man with a scruffy beard had his eyes trained on yours, roving over your form in the chair. You exhaled, fighting back the feeling of disgust, and turned back to Sam, plastering on a terse smile.
“What is it?” Sam asked, his brows furrowing in concern.
You paled slightly, the man’s stare still honed in on your back, “Dude at the bar has a staring problem.”
Sam leaned casually to reach for his pocket, craning his head for a swift second. A glint in his eye told you he’d found the perpetrator. Footsteps approached from behind - a familiar pattern, one you’d heard every day, and without turning you’d known it was Dean. A careful brush of his hand between your shoulder blades eased you, a gentle reminder he was here.
“Bottoms up, buttercup,” Dean teased, placing a shot of amber liquor in front of you, himself, and then his brother.
Three lime wedges rested on a plate, along with a salt shaker. You glance at Dean with a ‘seriously?’ look, and he gave a signature Winchester grin. You did say you wanted to get shitfaced. And hell, it could help with that looming creep. You licked the back of your hand and sprinkled some salt.
“To figuring something out,” you proclaimed, raising the shot glass. The boys follow your lead before clinking them on the table, and tossing their heads back.
The tequila burns the back of your throat, but the lime helps you ignore it. Sam held a steady face while Dean grimaced at the burn.
You giggled softly, “Can’t handle tequila, Dean?”
He flashed a toothy grin, and a quick middle finger. Your giggle evolved into a bright laugh that drew one from Sam, too.
“Bet you couldn’t handle pool, though,” countered Dean.
Sam eyed you from the side and threw a knowing smirk. You’d never back down from a challenge, especially when it was Dean testing you. There was a desire to beat him at his own games, to show him you could match his skill and then some.
Then there was the chase of it - cycles of teasing comments and passing glances, but never a break in the tension.
Your voice lowers, “I’ll take you on any day, Winchester.”
The jest made Dean grin. The chase was on again.
Sam stayed behind when you and Dean claimed a vacant pool table, letting you set yourselves up for the perfect one-on-one.
Dean nodded to you and eyed the cue ball. You bend at the waist over the table, and felt the creeping feeling again. It radiated along your spine to the nape of your neck, as if your body was set ablaze under the stranger’s stare.
Until suddenly, you had company.
“Say, think you could spare me a game when you’re done, beautiful?”
The voice matched the face. It was nasally with a copious amount of douchery; another entitled asshole who got involved when he wasn’t wanted.
Across the table, Dean’s brow twitched.
“Listen bud, we’re just getting started here. Plenty of other folks in here who can play you,” the edge in Dean’s tone was a warning in and of itself.
You hitched a breath awaiting the man’s reaction.
Out of the corner of your eye you spotted Sam sliding off his barstool, slowly making his way closer to your pool table. He idly looked at his phone, but kept a watchful glance.
“I’m sure you’ll have the time for another one, right, baby?” The stranger’s words slurred stupidly. He didn’t address Dean with meeting his stare, and instead fought to have yours. He closed the gap between you two further - the smell of alcohol lingered on him, thick and nauseating.
You bark, “You’ve got ten seconds.”
“Oh…. hic… ten seconds ain’t enough for me, sweetheart..”
Dean’s voice was taunting, probably trying to pull the dickbag away from you, “It’s plenty for us.”
Finally, the man looked to Dean, straightening his posture at the height difference. He was lean, but couldn’t hold a firm stance, by the looks of it. The man scanned Dean top to bottom before turning back to you.
Before crossing a crucial line.
A foreign hand stroked your spine, making you recoil. Anger contorted your features as you warned him yourself.
“Try that again, fucker,” you spat with disgust. You could still feel the touch on your back. Gross.
The man’s lips tug into a smile, and the anger continued to brew. Of course, you were not the only one with that bubbling rage. Dean has closed the distance before you could register he’d moved at all.
Dean loomed over the man with a haunting glare. To add fuel to the fire, the man had the gall to grin at the threat, raising his hands to Dean’s chest.
“Come on, jus’ gavin’ a lil’ fun,” said the stranger.
In one swift motion, Dean collected the man’s wrists with one hand, and delivered a hook with the other.
The blow knocked his head to the side. Other patrons turned to the scene unfolding - some turned back to their drinks, some kept staring. You gasped when Dean landed another strike, sending the man tumbling to the floor with a resounding thud.
“Dean, that’s enough, he’s-“
He didn’t react to your objection.
Behind the commotion, Sam’s eyes widen with shock, though he smiles with satisfaction at the takedown.
A final shove put enough distance between you and the pathetic drunk. You turned to see the bartender giving Dean a stern look, but they return to filling a pint glass.
You panted softly while the stranger walked away, bracing his bloodied chin with his hand. You looked to Dean and found his attention back at the pool table, letting out a frustrated grunt. There wasn’t a way to thank him. No need. The man had made great strides in protecting you, enough to reassure that you didn’t have to offer thanks. It came naturally, protecting one another.
Sam made his way back to the table and returned to his stool, shaking his head in disbelief, a smile on his face.
What a night, right?
It was Dean’s voice that brought you back to your senses. That same voice that calmed you, that ignited your body to its core.
“Alright, sweetheart, you go first.”
——
“Dammit, whathefuck- that isn’t fair-“ you protested. You’d lost, but kept trying to knock the striped pool balls into the pockets, insisting that there was some sort of rule to let you go until you were fully done, including the cue ball.
Sam handed you a glass of water, which you sipped on immediately. Your fingertips slowly grew numb against the cold glass.
Dean chortled as he collected the pool balls, “Shitfaced and pool don’t mix well, do they?”
You let out a tipsy laugh and shake your head at him. The moment stilled, where the rest of the scene faded away. Dean scanned you over, and held a too-long look. A small spark lit behind his eyes.
“Let’s getcha home.”
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Thank you for reading! I liked this idea, and I think it could easily have a second part. Vote in the poll or me know in the comments if you’d like to see where this goes!
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fuckyeahisawthat · 2 days
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I've been obsessed with @demon-of-the-ancient-world's post about Paul bandaging his own wounds after the duel with Feyd ever since I saw it. Partially because I am pretty sure he would not be physically able to do it, but he sure would try. So have a little thing.
Eventually, he is able to stop giving orders and having them fervently obeyed long enough to limp over to the hallway leading out of the war room. With every step, he is figuring out how to better hide the limp. His side still fucking hurts.
Close to the relief of the cool dark hallway, he spots a familiar face. Mari, the medic from his old band of fedaykin. Her gaze falters as he approaches.
"Bandages," he requests. At least his voice is still coming out steady.
She fishes in her pack and pulls out a roll. Holds it out to him like an offering, her fingers retreating as soon as he takes it.
She'd once held him down with a knee on his back while she pulled a piece of shrapnel out of his shoulder. Now she is afraid to touch him.
"More," he rasps.
She produces another roll. That should be enough.
There's a little anteroom just off the main chamber. A few Fremen trail after him as he heads there.
"Guard the door," he says to no one in particular. "No one enters." He shuts them all out.
He doesn't remember what this room was used for, in the brief time that he had lived here. It's empty now, save for a stone platform that runs along one wall at waist height. He drops the rolls of bandages on the platform and sags against it.
As soon as he lets the control slip, a wave of nausea washes over him. His head is pounding, blood drying tacky and itchy on his face, and with every breath it feels like both knives are still inside him.
Focus. He hears it in his mother's voice. She taught him this, how to reach inside himself and master pain. Attention stretching inward, finding the nerve endings that are screaming and shutting them down. He'd practiced with an embroidery needle pricking his finger. This is a bit more than that.
He concentrates until everything still hurts, but not so much that he's going to pass out. Probably. Then he starts working the fastenings of his stillsuit loose.
He gets the shoulder straps released and the moisture seal broken at the main seam, but then he's stuck. Pulling the suit off his left shoulder requires raising his right arm, and that comes with a spike of pain and an abrupt tilt of the floor underneath him. He grabs the edge of the platform and has to spend some more time working on not passing out. Starting with his right shoulder proves no better; twisting his torso in that direction makes his vision gray at the edges.
He's leaning heavily against the stone platform trying to figure out what to do when there's a commotion at the door. He hauls himself into standing up straight just as a young man, wide-eyed and with blood all down the front of his stillsuit, gets shoved into the room. "Forgive me, Lisan al-Gaib," the man says. "The scarfless warmaster insists on entering."
It takes him a minute to realize who he is talking about. "Let him in."
The man retreats, and Gurney steps into the room. "My lord." His gaze takes in the bandages, the pathetic progress he's made on removing his stillsuit. He closes the door behind him. "If I may."
Paul nods.
As soon as Gurney peels the stillsuit back from his injured shoulder, he realizes he never could've done it alone. It's a two-handed job, easing his arm out of the garment, and he needs his one free hand to bite down on to keep from making noise.
Gurney helps him slide the suit down to his waist. His torso is painted with blood but there's nothing to clean it with now. Best to focus on keeping any more from coming out.
Together they bandage his side, then his shoulder. Gurney's hands are not unkind but they are pragmatic, efficient, not flinching away from his wounds but not lingering either. There is no talking save Paul telling him to wrap the bandage tighter.
He remembers a time, long ago. Sitting on a storage chest in the staging room of the parade grounds below Castle Caladan, watching Gurney help his father put his armor on.
There had been a surrender--of whom, he can't remember. He could not have been more than five or six at the time. Generals of the army they'd just defeated coming to sign the armistice agreement, but with enough resentment about it that everyone was nervous, and his father was wearing armor to declare peace.
There had been no talking then, either. Just Gurney moving practically around his father, an extra pair of hands for pauldrons and breastplate and greaves, while his father practiced the speech he was going to give under his breath, making subtle adjustments to tone and emphasis along the way. He doesn't remember the speech, only the feeling, Gurney preparing his father's body while his father prepared himself in other ways.
That is what is happening now.
Once they get his shoulder wrapped as tight as they can, Gurney helps him ease the stillsuit back on. Gurney still needs some direction to get it laced properly, the Fremen way, but having another pair of hands to pull the straps tight over his shoulders means he only has to grit his teeth, not spend time waiting for the room for stop spinning.
He takes a few test steps across the room. The bandage around his ribs restricts his breathing a little, but it makes walking slightly less painful. That will do.
He pulls himself up to his full height, straight-backed, head held high. The posture of an emperor. Ready for battle.
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whorediaries-09 · 2 days
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say it's unforgivable
pairing- sirius black x auror!reader warning(s)- hurt/comfort. a/n- heads up, maa and papa refer to james' mum and dad :)
little train. series masterlist.
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the moment he gets up from the metal chair, he realizes he's doomed. his heart aches. he has nowhere to go. with maa and papa dead he's stuck, stranded upon the lonely crevice of life. as the minutes pass by, he stands, watching as the others leave. dumbledore sits still, physically calm.
'is there anything you need to say dumbledore?' he watches as the old man slowly creeps from the chair, descending near him. he stands before sirius, his icy blue eyes hovering over his ragged form.
'the man you are sirius, i expect you'll go and try to track down harry?' he asks him, his voice low. 'i save you trouble, harry is within the safe realms of his aunt and uncle.'
'aunt and uncle?'
'lily's sister and husband.'
'WHAT!'
'calm down, he's safe. that's the only way to keep him safe. the blood connection between petunia and lily. petunia knows about this, always has known about this. she's promised to not hurt harry and keep him within safe and secure conditions until he turns into an adult.'
'i don't care dumbledore. i need to see harry potter. he's my godson, i am his legal guardian. not petunia, not her husband.'
'i know.' dumbledore's eyes twinkle for a few moments before he runs his bony hands through his long beard.
'you can join hogwarts as an assistant healer. with all the incidences you had with remus lupin, i'm sure you've got a trick or two up your sleeve.' sirius gulps.
'what?'
'you can see harry in 5 years when he joins hogwarts.'
'no. i need to see my godson now.'
'you will, when you get yourself together. take some time off for yourself sirius.'
'i don't care. i need to see him and check whether he's okay. i need to know. i don't trust petunia with how she treated lily. i need to make sure he's okay. the last time i trusted you albus, i was thrown into prison and my freedom was stolen away from me. not again will i let this happen. i'm leaving, albus.'
*-
he sits beside the coffee counter, shimmying through newspapers. ever since he'd been released, the press was after him. not wanting more attention than he'd already gotten, he decided he'd keep to the muggle world for the time being. that meant being closer to spotting harry and staying away from attention.
for the time he'd been in the wizarding world, within the creepy turns of diagon alley, hagrid had returned him his motorbike. he'd hugged the giant man, thanking him. within the span, he'd also found his mother had died a year back, leaving him to be the heir of the noble house of black. when he'd been left alone with the information of his death mother, he left a pang of joy in his heart, followed by guilt.
he loved his mother, but his mother never did. it wasn't his fault, but he couldn't help but love her. or perhaps it was pity he felt for her, for she had been through the same as him. but it was him who felt the need to break free from the abuse. he hated he had to make her feel like a failed mother. while he felt guilty for feeling joy for losing her, he certainly didn't miss her. no, he was the one who got away.
he crushes the butt of the smoked cigarette, ready to explore the city of london after years of being shrouded in darkness. the need to escape from the darkness still gathers him into a haze of melancholy. he wanted to feel the cold air ripping through his locks, nipping at his skin. he wanted to see the city lights pass by as he fulfilled the need of fresh air filling up his flesh. he may not have yet found a place to stay, but he didn't feel the need to be confined within four walls.
the bell chimes again. a thursday evening didn't see many customers, the cafe deprived of hustle, resulting in a quiet cafe. the bell caught his attention, so he turned his head, watching at the door. his heart skipped a few beats, as a familiar face walked into the cafe. it was his savior.
'a salted caramel latte and a butter cookie, please,' you said to the barista, passing down the bills to fulfil the payment. he walked up to you, his heart bleeding with gratitude.
'hi,' he said, catching your attention. you brushed strands of hair behind your ear, smiling at him.
'hi, mr. black.' he knitted his brows together.
'psst! don't call me that, call me sirius.' he bent down, leaning into your ear, 'i'm out of azkaban solely because of you.' you smiled at him picking up your latte and cookie that the barista slipped across the counter.
'trust me, mr. - sirius i stand for justice.' he crumpled his fingers together, putting his hand into his pockets.
'i agree with you. uhm... fancy a walk perhaps?' he asked. your eyes brandished slowly over his features, your mind seemingly reeling with questions.
'i never thought the sirius black would walk. didn't you drive a motorbike?' he grinned, his eyes lighting up. this was the first time he'd felt the joy after so many years- he allowed himself to relish it, because there was no darkness to shroud his joy into melancholy.
'i do drive one. how did you know?' pushing open the door of the cafe, you walked into the fresh night air, as he followed you. taking a sip of your latte you replied vaguely,
'that, sirius is for me to know, and you to guess.' he grinned, seemingly enjoying your teasing behavior.
'so, you don't fancy a walk,' he stated, putting his hands into his pockets. your eyes raked over him, taking in his starkly contrasting appearance from the day you'd last seen him. within the glow of the streetlight, his high cheek bones and razor sharp jaw underneath porcelain skin rubbed with a soft stubble reflected upon his features. he was wearing a black t-shirt paired with beige slacks. he had cleaned up well within the few days. the air had already been of great favor to him.
'don't you have anyone waiting for you, sirius?' his gray eyes stared into yours before he whispered a quiet no.
'are you sure sirius? or are you too eager within your emotions of gratitude?'
'i hate how you can read through me so easily, sweetheart. but you're partly incorrect, i actually have been sitting alone here, shimmying over the things i've missed.' he moved closer to you.
'i don't think you should spent time alone, sirius. you need other people's company. human's are driven by the presence of other humans, you should be reminded of your roots, of your presence of mind. you'll go insane if you sit alone, secluded.'
'and here you are declining me a walk with you. you're human aren't you? we can interact. either ways, i've asked remus to meet me tomorrow. he says yes.' you laughed, the sound echoing amongst the cars and motorbikes which honked along the streets of london.
'so, what do you say?'
'i'm sure i could also do with a little bit of company,' you replied. your voice was low and soft, like a cool breeze amongst the salty waves of the sea. he smiled at you, wrinkles of a chronicle scarring beside his eyes. he moved closer, standing by you.
'so where shall we go?'
'where ever the city takes us.'
the city reeked of driving him crazy. till it was one hell of a drug, so he could use it up.
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original idea posted by - @lilwnet
taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510
taglist (for series) - @urbansaint
(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)
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lillybearrie · 1 day
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Hello I would like to remind everyone that the first (technically second if you wanna get really technical but who cares) thing we heard from fable was
"Release Me,
You are free of Enderian, now focus on purpose"
Directed at Icarus
"Now focus on your purpose"????? WHAT HAPPENED TO "HI" "HELLO" "HOW ARE YOU MY SON"
BECAUSE NEWSFLASH SIR THAT'S NOT HOW YOU TALK TO YOUR FUCKING CHILD
THEY AREN'T A FUCKING ROBOT TO TAKE AND CARRY OUT YOUR ORDERS THAT'S YOUR GODDAMN KID!
PEOPLE TREATED SEVEN WITH MORE FAMIARITY AND RESPECT
no offense to seven great guy rip man BUT STILL
Anyway on to actual analysis
After reading this note, several deductions can be made about our antagonist's character right off the bat, which in season 3 we see to be accurate assumptions
First of all the sending of the note "release me" constantly at the beginning of every reset presumably for the past several ones gives us a base line of a few things A) whoever wrote it is trapped B) they really want out C) whomever was to recive the note presumably can help with this D) this person is either very angry and resorting to formal wording as a form of passive aggression or they are simply a very formal person Had this not been the case they would have written "let me out" or "get me out" or even "help me"
Now for the post-corruption portion
"You are free of Enderian"
1) this person knows Enderian 2) This person knows at least of Icarus 3) They intentionally have been sending these to Icarus 4) despite being trapped they have some way to know what is going on 5) their particular view of Enderian is not favorable it's not overtly antagonistic however this is the one part of the not that can be read as at least partially sympathetic to Icarus
Finally "Now focus on your purpose"
1) they don't see Icarus as anything but a means to an end 2) tone wise it feels like both the chastisement of a child and an order to an unthinking being 3) "your purpose" seemingly refers to the prior statement of "release me" either implying that the writer believes Icarus is only here to get them out of wherever they are or that Icarus's sole purpose in life is to aid and assist them and 4) the use of "now" after the previous statement implies they view the corruption arc as simply something that was inhibiting the progression of them being let out
First off once again SIR THAT IS YOUR CHILD YOU MOTHERFUCKER-
In conclusion deductions that can be made from this note with the knowledge that i now hold are as follows: Fable wanted out of purgatory, they issued Icarus with the fulfillment of this task and saw the corruption arc as merely a speed bump on the road of getting his ass outta there. Fable is a pretentious douchebag. Like everyone else in his life Fable is constantly using his own son as a means to achieving his end goal.
Other notes:
Had Fable's motivations not been his underlying obsession with keeping what he believes is "his" even when it disrupts and disregards the rules of the universe and the sanctity of life he likely wouldn't have given 2 shits about Icarus.
If we view Fable's interactions with others through the lense of him thinking of those of the overworld as "his" his people his creations his world then it starts to become clearer that he only sees individuals as tools and for their potential usefulness to him. And if we want to take this view even further we could even say that he at least on some level viewed Alerion giving a place for his deceased mortals to restate something akin to how a child views their sibling stealing a toy from their room, which then implies that the war of the gods is just a big temper tantrum where Fable hurt his brother then his other siblings stepped in and went "hey woah man not cool you can hit Al dude he is literally just playing the game" to which Fable's response was to hurt them as well and now he's just got out of timeout and basically started blaming his parents for everything wrong in his life which is so silly goofy of him until you remember that these were people he was upset about his brother "stealing" from him and it becomes less silly goofy.
"But Lilly!" I hear you say because you've totally read this far, mhm definitely "If he doesn't actually care about the dead people, then why does he act nice? Why is his charisma stat so high?" Well to that I say is it easier to keep someone in one spot when you make them believe this is where they wanna be or when they know the whole truth?
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deathmetalunicorn1 · 3 days
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this was supposed to be csm oc but just imagine this, (f)reader is a half human half devil (hybrid) and is fighting for human side. She is having a contract with love devil so if she sense pain and suffering from romantically/platonic relationships between humans she gets stronger and it shows on her phone battery that changes its percentage of how much she has energy for attacks on her heart. But she is aphathetic, can barely remember how human emotions feel like since she lost a feeling of them when she became hybrid at 8 years old when her dad sell her soul. In hybrid form she grows claws instead of her fingers and get her teeth sharp (like mileena from mortal kombat) so she wins against god ( apollo, hades and thor) she gets her humanity back and doesn’t kill them, she just starts crying mindlessly and falls into their arms as they hugged on floor of the arena (continue however you desire!)
-It was odd for you, seeing people smiling, you weren’t sure why they were doing that, as you hadn’t had any emotions for years now, losing them when you were only a child, after your father, bastard of a man, sold your soul, to turn you into what you are today.
-Many called you a hybrid, but other names you were more well known by was monster, or creature, or demon. You were only half demon, a devil to be precise, which is what your father wanted when he sold your soul, to make you into a powerful weapon to do his bidding.
-Too bad you didn’t see eye to eye with him and the first time you changed, your teeth growing to a massive size, your nails sharpening, turning your visage into something not of this world, you took your revenge in your last act of emotion that you could recall, in a fit of rage, killing your father.
-It had been many years since then and now that you were in Valhalla, having been killed on Earth, something you thought was a release, you were almost disappointed if you had to put a word to the feeling, that you weren’t finally free.
-You were treated much better in Valhalla, not being treated as a monster, but most left you alone, not bothering with you, which let you live in peace for many years.
-You were able to feed in this new world, as you fed on emotions, negative emotions in relationships, both romantic and platonic, something that was a side effect of the demon you were ‘blessed’ by, a love demon.
-There was plenty of meals to go around, especially with the gods, as there was so much animosity, mainly with Zeus and his wife Hera, whom you learned was his sister, but you chose to ignore that, in favor of the massive meals they were providing you in their fights.
-When Ragnarok was announced, Brunnhilde approached you to fight for humanity, and when you asked her, your voice devoid of emotions, “Why would I help those who did this to me?” she just smiled, taking your hands in her own, showing no fear, “Because I know that you can do it.”
-Her praise and faith in you did help change your mind, as it wasn’t often you met someone like that, and it made you feel warm inside.
-Brunnhilde provided you with a phone, to track your power in the fight, so you wouldn’t burn out or risk any damage to yourself, which would show a meter on how much negative energy you had.
-Your opponent, (Love), was stunned to see you there, ready to fight, as many knew about you, about what your father did to you, and knowing full well what you changed into when you got serious.
-Your fight with (Love) was intense, the crowds loving it, seeing the carnage, but the humans, who were cheering for you, were quick to jeering you, calling you a monster once you changed into your hybrid form, flashing your nails and fangs at (Love), looking like a demon.
-While their negative energy was filling you, (Love) could see that you looked heartbroken, at least to him, your eyes looked so sad, hearing so many calling you such cruel names, something Brunnhilde was quick to stop, “Y/N is fighting for all of you- if you want to get out there and risk your life for others who will jeer you like this, then be my guest! I’ll pull Y/N out right now!”
-Being called on their two-faced nature quickly had shut the crowds up, something you did appreciate and soon you heard cheers again, from children of all things, telling you to do your best!
-(Love) was stunned when you managed to knock him back after hearing these cheers, your hand shooting down to pierce him through his skull before you stopped, just millimeters from his eye, stunning all.
-(Love) looked up at you, to question why you stopped, to freeze, seeing you in tears, showing emotions as you felt so overwhelmed, hearing the children cheering for you.
-He was quick to realize that you weren’t a fighter, you never have been, but you were forced to fight, for survival.
-You didn’t realize you were crying until he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing a tear away as his eyes softened, trying so console you as you slowly sank to your knees, your emotions, which you thought you had long thrown away, but they were only locked away, deep inside you, finally broke.
-(Love) pulled you into his arms, realizing that damage that had been done to you, and stood, pulling you into his arms, demanding this tournament be stopped, as it wasn’t right, as gods, those who have powers, to no do right by those who looked to them, and still look to them.
-Many were upset, seeing the fight being called off, before they had to sit and realize (Love’s) words were true, that this wasn’t right for humanity to fight for their survival like this, when that’s all they’ve ever done throughout history.
-(Love) held you close, taking you to the infirmary, despite him being a bit more roughed up than you were, as you were surprisingly a powerful fighter, or at least you fought well, as you weren’t a fighter, you were a survivor. One he was now going to protect, like how you should have been from the very beginning.
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bravewolfvesperia · 3 months
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🌙 Transgressor Yuri moodboard. 🌙
#{ muse info + headcanons }#/ i think abt him. a lot. so if any of u have a crestoria verse. please. write with me.#let him free. release him into the world.#i am also keeping the lower quarter in this verse generally speaking hence its place here#aaaand also to be clear on the exact weapon in the bottom left it's his Second Star#versus the implication of getting a blood sin weapon on the right#both placed on the sides of the respective relationships bc Second Star#canonically relates to his relationship with flynn and blood sins can only be acquired through vicious#which is perfect bc i intend for yuri to be working with vicious (and kanata and co) indirectly#it all fell together very nicely n_n#and aside from any threads with any vicious-muns since it's not my place to determine how they write their muse with my muse#(and they can do this with me too if agreed upon!) i do plan to have vicious heavily integrated into yuri's story#will also be chaotic and beautiful bc two emotionally intelligent fuck-alls who are here to cause problems on purpose#while also calling themselves the worst possible things ever while continuing to be awesome stand up ppl#also you can't tell me flynn and vicious don't have this lawful versus lawless thing going on here#you don't even need tug o' war when you have tug o' yuri#believe me if i had enough energy to write a damn fic for this verse for yuri and those two i WOULD#feat aegis. bc. the lawless chaotics require their knightly boyfriends for a double date. lots of double dates#the rest of their fucking LIVES will be double dates and they're going to LIKE it. probably. mostly.#anyway namco threw this perfectly wonderful opportunity away and it's mine now im not giving it back >:/
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zukkaoru · 9 months
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kind of obsessed with how fukuchi's line about "if you attack me one by one, i will kill you one by one" has held true through this entire arc. tachihara fought him alone, and he failed. jouno attacked him alone, and he failed. even when ranpo and fukuzawa went to confront him, they did it one by one (ranpo first with poe's book page, and fukuzawa second with his sword), and fukuchi eliminated them from the fight one by one. the only time anyone even escaped a confrontation was when atsushi and akutagawa finally worked together, fully and entirely trusting each other. it was when they finally attacked him as a combined force. if characters keep fighting against fukuchi one by one, they are going to continue to be defeated one by one.
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Tossing and turning in bed plagued by visions (Ed Edgar headcanons that are definitely just me projecting my cowboy ass autistic interest in strange animals onto him bc he too is a strange southern man with autistic swag)
#atlas speaks#i think he keeps exotic animals. not in like a joe exotic tiger king 'I'm raising endangered mammals that could kill me in my bedroom' way#but like. he has a bunch of venomous snakes and weird spiders. his living room is just lined with shelves and shelves of terrariums#i think you see him interact with his strange and dangerous pets and it's like meeting a whole new person#he is so much less of an asshole the second he is looking at a weird bug#i think he would love camel spiders in particular. those fuckers are so weird he'd love it#and bold jumping spiders. bc they're native to where he grew up#you take him out hiking or some sblhit and he starts acting like that guy on tiktok who hunts for pythons in the florida everglades#he's picking up snakes with his bare hands like#'oh yeah this is a black racer! they're totally harmless but they've got a lot of personality ^-^' while it aggressively bites his arm#he tried showing Bim the David Bowie Huntsman once. he's like 'Bowie is a gay icon Bim'll love this' and quickly learns Bim is arachnophobic#he's waving around cane toads like 'oh my god guys look at the poison glands on this thing!!!'#i feel like he'd love eastern hognose snakes too he loves the silly fucking way they play dead#anyways what I'm saying is give him a educational nature show let him do some weird shit out in the wild it's his natural habitat#he's the types of guy to stand barefoot on the asphalt next to a diamondback to get it to cross the road so it doesn't get run over#I'm hoping releasing these thoughts into the world frees me from them so i can sleep lol can you tell#anyways he absolutely handles like black widows and brown recluse with his bare hands like a madman#he would love eel pit guy#anyways this is his one redeeming quality he is still the worst in every other way 👍
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woahjo · 2 months
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APHRODISIAC! (Bakugou x Reader)
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masterlist 
Pairing: Bakugou x Reader
Summary: Katsuki gets hit with an aphrodisiac quirk. You decide to check in on him. What could go wrong?
Chapter Content Warnings:  fem!reader, dubcon, smut, porn with little to no plot, aphrodisiac quirks, quirkless reader, prohero!katsuki, rough sex, borderline free use, biting, creampie, multiple orgasms (fem!receiving), masturbation, edging (kinda), manhandling, katsuki is dominant but also not idk he's desperate, possessiveness, overstimulation, size kink, scent kink, some light aftercare! woo hoo!, friends to lovers sort of
Word Count: 4.5k
A/N: yeah ik this isn't what i typically write but idk where this came from. i had a thought and it spiraled bad and now i have this. there is no deeper message. there is no meaning. i wrote this to make him FUCK and be kinda weird and desperate and pathetic about it. i needed to see him physically overpower us while also so desperate that it makes him look stupid. i feel violent. this bad boy is not going on ao3 lol. anyway, enjoy, heed the warnings.
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Katsuki paces around the one bedroom apartment he rents in downtown Musutafu. His skin is tingling. Every nerve he has burns like it's been set on fire, needing some sort of touch to soothe it. His cock aches between his legs, hard and leaking against the side of his thigh. Katsuki grits his teeth, running his hands over his hair and then letting his palms slide down the sides of his exposed biceps. 
Sweat collects on his skin, the kind that comes from desperation or maybe a fever, and he feels it on his palms when he lets them drop to his sides and clenches his fists. Fuck, he can't believe he got hit with a non-fatal quirk and had to be sent home. It's humiliating. What's worse is that it hasn't worn off yet, rendering him completely useless. 
He sits on his couch, his legs spread wide, and leans back against the couch cushions, wincing as he reaches to unbutton his pants. He's never been this sensitive in his life and it almost hurts to grab his cock and pull it from his pants. Katsuki watches it twitch for a moment, rigid between his legs and leaking pre-cum from its angry tip. He doesn't even have to think about anything in particular, he's just turned on. Unbearably so. 
Katsuki wraps his hand around the base of his cock and jerks upward once, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth at his own sensitivity. Then, the desperation sets in fully and he squeezes the head of his cock with a wince and a low groan before beginning to slide his hand up and down. He pauses to spit into his palm, desperate for some sort of relief from the tension weaving its way through his body, his hand moving faster and fast over this dick. Katsuki only pauses when he touches his overly sensitive head, swallowing down an audible moan as he moves his hips to desperately fuck his fist. 
He tries not to think of the humiliation in this, instead focusing on chasing a high that seems to get farther and farther. He stays like this for a while, desperately fucking his fist with low groans and whines. His face is completely flushed, sweat beading on his brow and forehead, covering every inch of his skin with a pathetic, glowing sheen. God, he's almost fucking angry. The frustration, the sheer desperation for release, is making it difficult to control his temper and he knots his free hand into the soft pillow beside him, raising it to his face and using it to cover his head so he can be a little louder. 
He's desperately humping his fist when his doorbell rings. At first, it's only once and Katsuki thinks he can ignore it, but then it comes again, five more times and consistently more aggressive. 
"Katsuki?" your voice calls through the wood paneling of his door. "I heard you got hit with a quirk and sent home. Let me in." 
He furrows his eyebrows at the irony of the last person in the world he wants to encounter at a time like this. Pretty, quirkless, you. His long time friend and recent dispatcher at his agency. Someone he secretly wants to fuck even without the aphrodisiac quirk floating through his bloodstream. You really get under his skin. You’re exactly his type, right down to that annoying little attitude of yours that drives Katsuki insane. Of course, he's always respected your friendship a little too much to do anything about it, but tonight, he doesn't think he'll be able to and he sits in silence with his lip caught between his teeth while he fucks his fists and hopes you'll go away. 
"I know you're in there," you call again. "I can see the light on." 
You bang three times on the door and then ring the doorbell again, pushy and insistent the way you always are. A match for his stubborn attitude. 
Katsuki swears and stands up, his hands shaking as he tucks his sensitive cock back into his sweatpants and flips the head up into his waistband with a hiss. 
The crazy thing is, he can literally smell you through the door. The scent of you, that sweet and rounded perfume you wear, wafts under the crack of his apartment door. He pauses outside of it, resisting the temptation to open it, to welcome that smell into his apartment and use you to relieve the aching in his cock and lower belly. 
"Katsuki?" You ask, a little quieter now. 
Jesus fucking christ, don't call his name like that. 
He swings the door open, letting his hand rest on the side of it so that it is positioned above his head. You look taken aback at his appearance, covered in sweat and flushed from the neck up, his chest exposed and heaving. 
"What?" he says, looking you up and down. 
Katsuki bites back the urge to yank you in. Why is it he can literally smell the sweat on your body and every prick of your emotions? It's like he can tell exactly what you're thinking, or maybe it's what he wants you to be thinking. 
"Don't get on my ass about me still technically needing to be at work," you start, stepping forward. "I heard something happened and I just came to check and you look like shi-" 
Katsuki blocks you from coming in with his body. You stumble backwards lightly and raise your eyebrow at him. There's a pause as you register that you've just run into a solid wall of muscle, sweat covered and glistening, while Katsuki eyes you like you're meat on a platter. He knows he's doing it, but he can literally smell every turn of your scent, soft and sweet. And he may be fooling himself... but are you... turned on? 
"Let me in?" you say with a small laugh, side stepping to go around him. He blocks you again, his fingers gripping the door frame so hard that his knuckles are white. 
"Go home," he says quietly, his voice tense. 
"What? No," you furrow your eyebrows at him. "What's the matter with you?" 
You duck under his arm and place your hand momentarily on his chest. Your touch makes him tingle all over and he sucks in a sharp breath. 
"I'm not fucking around," he says. 
"Okay, me neither," you respond with a bit of an attitude. "I expected you to be worse for wear but you look like crap. Like you're... I don't know." 
You trail off a little. 
"Let me help," you say, shaking off whatever thought had come over you. "I'll make you some food." 
"Look, no offense, but I don't think you want to help me with this," he says, a frustrated bite in his voice. Food isn't exactly what he's hungry for. 
"That's too bad," you say slowly, seemingly put off by the desperate air about him and settling into his kitchen. You move to open the fridge.
Katsuki walks up to you quickly, taking your wrist from the door and holding it between the two of you. Cool air hits his exposed chest and arm as the door falls shut again. 
"I'm dead serious. Get the fuck out of here or I'm gonna do something I regret," he hisses through a clenched jaw. Your skin is warm on the pads of his fingers, wrist held flush against his palm. He bites back a genuine shudder. 
Your eyes are wide as you look back at him, glancing between where he's caught your wrist by your head and his eyes. Katsuki's gaze roams over your face, pausing as he hits the top of your blouse where a few buttons remain open. When he returns his eyes to yours, your mouth moves to open before a heady understanding settles over your features. You're so pretty. Everything about you is pretty, so delightful and delicate. Your eyes look glassy and wide. Katsuki has always found them tempting, but today he can't stop himself. 
He leans forward and kisses you, holding your wrist to his chest as his mouth comes messily into contact with yours. You squeak and freeze and it takes all he has to pull away from you. 
"Go home," he says again, his lips tingling. Katsuki feels the color creep onto his cheeks, his hand still holding your wrist. 
You don't say anything, looking at him with those pretty eyes. He swallows thick and feels the saliva drag against his throat. Then, his mouth dries completely, his expression twisting into discomfort as his cock throbs between his legs as the scent of you takes on a sharper turn. He's never felt anything like this before, something animal. 
Katsuki tightens his jaw, staring at you for a moment. Then, he takes a step towards you. You take one back, though he doesn't feel like you're afraid. Rather, you tilt your head down to look at him through your lashes. He lets out a breath through his teeth and walks you back until your ass hits the counter, his free hand coming to gingerly touch your waist. You inhale when he leans in to kiss you again, screwing your eyes shut and reaching to grab at his shoulder to pull him closer. 
Every touch tingles. It burns and he drops your wrist to manhandle your hips. You suck on his bottom lip, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to you. He ruts his hips against yours, desperate for any sort of friction to relieve the ache, and you gasp a little and let your mouth fall open. Katsuki takes the opportunity to bite down hard on your lip with a low groan, slipping his tongue into your mouth as the pads of his fingers press harshly into you. You whine, eyebrows pulling up. 
Katsuki’s eyes are slightly open, just so that he can look at you. Every aspect of his senses feel heightened and the relief of your mouth far surpasses that of his hand over his throbbing cock only minutes earlier. 
He pants, taking your hips and lifting you onto the counter so that you’re seated, pulling away for just a moment to lift the hem of your shirt and expose your breasts. Katsuki puts his face on the pillowy tops of them, biting and sucking at the exposed skin as his hand teases its way up the skin of your back to unclasp it. He thinks you’re probably looking at him, but if you are, he doesn’t have the mind to care about what sort of behavior he’s exhibiting. He can practically smell how wet you are from just a little touching and if he weren’t so fucking desperate for a little relief, he’d tease you for a few hours just to watch your pussy drool over him. 
The cool air of his apartment hits your exposed nipples. Katsuki takes it upon himself, without even a second thought, to roll the hard bud under his tongue. He feels the way goosebumps rise on your skin, his hands coming to rest over the tops of your thighs. Katsuki bites lightly on your breast and you fucking whine at it, tipping your head back and rooting your hand into the tufts of his blonde hair. 
His cock jumps in his pants and he’s no doubt leaked enough to leave an evident wet spot against the gray of his sweatpants. He stands to his full height, pushing your skirt up and pressing the outline of his cock to your crotch. Heat bleeds through your panties, the kind that makes him feel like he’s going absolutely fucking insane. You gasp, putting your hands on his shoulders and pulling him close again. 
Katsuki’s mouth hits yours messily, breathing hard as he ruts his hips up against your crotch, pulling you forward on the counter so he can feel as much of the pillowy folds of your pussy through the thick fabric as possible. You let him take your bottom lip between his teeth, sharp canines digging into the wet flesh of your mouth. He whines— high-pitched, desperate sound—as you position your hips to press your crotch against the head of his cock. His head falls onto your chest, forehead resting against the hollow of your throat. Katsuki humps at you, pulling you against him to match the rhythm of his hips, grinding your clothed cunt over the bulge of his cock. It’s a desperate motion, completely subconscious as he lets the quirk he’s been hit with take the lead.
His fingers dip into the crease of your thigh, fumbling as they reach for the waistband of the panties you’re wearing. Katsuki’s desperation is so palpable that he finds himself panting as he slips his fingers into the sides of your underwear, yanking them down. You gasp at the force of it and he swears he hears a small tear as he pulls them from your cunt, the crotch sticking to the lips of your pussy. 
He leans his hips forward again, sliding his cock between your folds with a deep grunt. His mouth finds your neck and he bites along the side of it, lathing his tongue over your pulse point. It’s like he can taste you. Salt and that stupid perfume, collecting on his tongue as you dig your fingers into his back, his dick rutting restlessly against your clit. At one point, he almost slips in, his eagerness and your wetness making him careless. Katsuki sucks in a breath through his teeth, his whole body on fire. 
The kitchen light shines down on his back and he can see the outline of part of his shadow on your thighs as he stares down at them, guiding the tip of himself to your entrance. He hears you wine when he presses against it and moves his hand down subconsciously to rub at your clit. An attempt to ease the stretch. 
You tip your head back in a moan and Katsuki takes the opportunity to kiss your neck before settling his teeth against your shoulder and biting down harshly on the muscle connecting your neck and arm. You yelp at the sensation and Katsuki shutters at the sound, willing out a choked I’m sorry as he slides into your wetness. His hands push into the delightfully soft flesh of your upper thighs, the fat spilling up around each individual digit as he uses your legs for leverage, sliding you forward even further to better seat you on him. 
Your legs are shaking and he can feel the way your nails dig into his exposed shoulder blades. Your bunch up skirt causes the fat of your tummy to fold over in a way that practically makes Katsuki drool. He urges himself to pause, attempting to come back to his senses as the quirk kicks into high gear. There’s relief in being inside of you, in feeling the flutter of your walls around his thick cock, but it also makes him desperate. Katsuki feels like he’s chasing something that he was desperately and it’s just out of his reach. 
You’re breathing heavily above him, he can see the rise and fall of your chest from where his head hangs down, his hands trembling on the tops of your thighs. He looks up at you through his lashes, his vision foggy around the edges as if he were peering through a tube. You’re at the end of it, your eyes glassy and mouth open, returning the look. Your eyebrows are knitted up in pleasure, but you almost seem confused. 
“What are you waiting for?” You breathe out, the first thing you’ve said since he started touching you. 
The tone of your voice is needy, with a delightful whiny lilt that makes him groan out loud. He can barely manage the words that come out next, his brain half mush, and he feels the way his cock jumps inside of you. 
“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he says through gritted teeth, his breath coming heavy. 
There’s a pause and he feels the distinct sensation of you squeezing down around his cock, like the idea turns you on. 
“Use me,” you respond cautiously, your voice still containing that needy lilt. 
Katsuki’s hips fuck up into you voluntarily and he feels the way his breath catches in his throat at the near desperate sound of your voice.
“Say that again.” 
“Use me, Katsuki,” you respond, choking on your words as he fucks his hips up into you. 
You reach for his face, taking it in your hands and drawing it close until it’s just in front of yours. Then, your palms slide down his shoulders and he screws his eyes shut and fucks into you again, harder this time, causing your body to jolt upwards on the counter. 
He curses under his breath, pushing one leg further to the side and fucking his hips up into you roughly. You’re looking right at him, your expression drawn and pleasure-soaked, sweat collecting on your forehead as your mouth drops open into an o-shape. You punctuate his thrusts with high pitched yelps, squeaking out your pleasure and the deepness of where he’s hitting through choked moans. 
Katsuki’s hands move up your stomach to roughly cup your breasts, his mouth so close to yours that he’s practically breathing in the sounds you make in exchange for his own hurried groans. He kneads at the fat of your chest, rolling your breast under his fingers before taking your nipples and pulling lightly on them. 
He’s aware of just how rough he’s being, just how hard his hips are slapping yours, but he feels like he can’t stop. Katsuki chases a high so fucking desperate that his body is on autopilot, reaching and touching and moaning unabashedly as the room fills with the wet sound of his balls on the backs of your thick thighs. 
You push your chest forward towards him, legs spread wide to make room for the width of his hips between yours as he bullies that perfect sensitive spot inside of you. Katsuki feels the way he makes you flutter. Every shift of your body, every involuntary squeeze of your cunt as he drags his cock along your walls, registers as if he were a part of you. His skin tingles everywhere you touch and the drag of your nails over his shoulder blades makes him want to crawl into the deepest part of you. Even the sound of your voice, drawn and desperate and mildly overwhelmed, feels like a drug to him. Every sense he has seems to be acutely attuned to just how badly he needs to fuck your lights out. 
His hands slink down to your hips, resituating you and pulling you flush against him. Then, he drags his cock all the way out of you and quickly ruts back in, moaning as he does. His pace picks up, manhandling you forward on the counter until he is supporting most of your weight. You gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders as you let him use you like a toy. 
Katsuki chases his high, his stomach seeming to wind tighter and tighter but never finding that perfect snap and release. His movements grow faster, using all of his strength to fuck his hips up into you, barreling his cock against your gummy walls and bullying your sweet spot. He feels the way you tighten down around him, your body tensing and fingers digging crescent moons into the tops of his shoulders. 
“Ka-” you choke out desperately, your voice breaking. “Wait, Katsuki, wait! I’m gonna-” 
You shudder, your thighs squeezing around him as he continues to fuck you. 
“Do it,” he seethes, “just fuckin’ do it.” 
The end of his sentence comes out as more of a whimper as you cry out and squeeze down around him, squirming in his grasp as you begin to twitch with every additional thrust. Your body shakes, legs locking around him and struggling to hold him inside as he fucks you clear through your orgasm and then to the other side. 
Katsuki’s voice breaks, almost whimpering like an animal as he buries himself in your pussy over and over again. He wants to smother you, he wants to completely cover your body and get as close as he possibly can. He’s already so much bigger than you, so much broader, how hard could it be to swallow you completely? 
Katsuki’s hands come up under your ass as he wordlessly lifts you from the counter and moves to the couch on desperate, shaky steps. He lays you down, slipping out of you for a moment, before pressing a hand to the inside of your thigh, spreading your legs, and sinking his cock back into you as he crowds his body over yours. 
“You know what?” He says, not really sure what’s going to come next. His head is so clouded with the quirk that he can’t think straight. “I’ve wanted to do this forever. I’ve wanted to fuck you for so- long-” 
He screws his eyes shut, almost angry with the way he can’t seem to hit that high, teetering on a desperate and near painful edge. 
“Those fuckin’ pencil skirts,” he says, unable to control his words or sharp tone. “The way you wear your hair, that damn look in your eye that constantly makes you seem like you’re beggin’ for it.” 
Katsuki whines, a sharp sound from the back of his throat, as you tighten up around him. He meets your gaze, clouded and watery eyes accented by the delightful furrow in the center of your brow. 
“And then you show up here,” he groans, not even sure of what he’s really saying. “Blouse unbuttoned, looking for trouble. I’m gonna fuck your lights out. ‘Till you can’t even think about fuckin’ anyone else.” 
He leans in close, his mouth right up against yours. 
“This is g’nna make you mine, right?” 
You nod, your movements clumsy, and pull him close to you. 
Katsuki loses all of his sense, burying himself in the feel of your pussy and the way he sinks into you, giving into the desperation of the quirk. He can feel just how deep he’s hitting, the way you suck in sharp, whiny breaths with every inward thrust. Katsuki’s hands grip your waist, pulling your ass up off the couch so that his angle is better. 
His cock seems to drag endlessly against your overstimulated, pillowy, insides and you practically drool around. He feels like a dog slobbering over meat, any semblance of politeness completely gone from both his expression and his movements. This is going to fucking ruin your friendship, but he doesn’t even have half of a mind to think about it, so drawn into the delightful feel of your body and the aching in his cock that only seems to subside slightly with every thrust. 
You try to choke out the word “again” and he feels like he knows what’s coming. Your whole body tenses, legs locking around him as you cream over his cock for the second time. 
This seems to get Katsuki somewhere, the sensation of your pussy clamping down finally giving him some leeway to relief. He hits the edge of an orgasm, leading himself to the finish line. 
The tension in his belly grows, cock twitching inside of your fucked out cunt. His fingers dig into your hips and he collapses forward, rolling his body so that the head of his cock catches perfectly inside of you, massaging and churning you up. You’re moaning, though maybe it’s more adjacent to whining, and Katsuki can hear himself mimicking the sounds, his body leading the way. 
Then finally, on a pathetic and broken whimper, Katsuki cums. His whole body tenses, weight pressing down on you as he buries his face into your neck and lets his voice out beside the hollow of your throat. The relief and pleasure is so intense that Katsuki feels the way every muscle in his body tenses and lets go, filling you up with as much of him as he has to give. 
His hips continue to pathetically rut into you, little choked moans escaping his lips as he uses his own cum as lube for his weak little thrusts. Then, he completely relaxes. 
Katsuki feels the way his skin stops burning, the way the desperation at the back of his throat subsides, how his body rids itself of the quirk as quickly as the arousal came on. He shudders, coming back to himself and raising his head to peer at your expression. 
You look exhausted, hair a mess and face covered in a thick sheen of sweat. You still flutter around his cock, your hands gripping his shoulders as you try and ride through the overstimulation of just having him inside of you. Katsuki furrows his brows, exhaustion creeping into his muscles. He raises his hand and uses it to push stray strands of hair from your face with his palm on your forehead. Then, with a clear mind, he leans forward and kisses you. 
You blink at him for a second, before giving a weak smile, raising your eyebrows and letting your head fall to the side. Katsuki winces when he pulls out of you, sucking in a sharp breath and standing to his full height. He places a hand on his forehead like he’s assessing the situation, staring at your body, still fully clothed with your skirt pushed all the way up your stomach and your blouse missing a button at the top. 
He wordlessly walks to the bathroom and wets a washcloth with warm water, walking back over to you and wiping down the exposed parts of your body. You don’t really say anything to him, but you smile quietly while he gingerly wipes you down, your smeared makeup accenting just how much of a mess he’s made. 
“Fuck,” he says. “I’m sorry, this isn’t how-” 
“How you wanted this to go?” You say softly, the corners of your lips turning up. 
Katsuki feels the way he flushes, all the way to the tops of his chest. 
“No, it’s not,” he admits, running a hand over his face as he crouches beside you. 
You laugh a little and he furrows his brows at you, frustrated and embarrassed. 
“You’ve got a bit of a possessive streak, huh?” You tease lightly.
“I got hit with some asshole’s fuckin’ quirk and-” he begins explaining himself, something he probably should have done when you showed up at the door. 
“It was good though,” you say, tilting your head at him from where you lay.
Katsuki blinks at you, his expression completely flat. You should really know just how fucking crazy you drive him. Then, he scowls a little, not because he’s upset, but because he’s currently feeling the opposite and that makes him awkward. 
“You’re into that shit?” He says, a bit incredulously. 
You shrug and give him a coy smile. 
4K notes · View notes
venuslut · 4 months
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FANTASIZING ABOUT being fucked by Sukuna’s stomach tongue ♡.
He’ll beckon you over, feeling generous, and loosen your kimono to where you’re basically naked, hanging on by your obi. Sukuna grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap, positioning you so that you straddled his waist. The mouth on his abdomen formed and opened with a sinister grin, its lips parting as if it were ready to devour you. The elongated tongue that emerged from it was slick and glistening, invitingly beckoning you closer.
“Go ahead," Sukuna rasped, his voice filled with dark desire. "Ride me, brat."
Hesitantly, you lowered yourself onto his mouth. Feeling the wet warmth of his waiting mouth against your most intimate parts. His tongue, long and sinuous, flicked out to taste you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The sensation was both invasive and exhilarating, the slickness of his tongue gliding against your folds, teasing your sensitive clit sending shivers down your spine and a weak cry left your lips.
Sukuna gave you a few seconds to stew in the feeling before his hands tightened their grip on your hips, and brought you down to fully sit on his mouth. His tongue curled and twisted inside you, hitting all the right spots, driving you to the brink of ecstasy. Each thrust of your hips brought you closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building within you like a raging storm. Making your breath hitch and your body tremble with need. Sukuna uses his lips and tongue to worship your most sensitive areas, alternating between delicate licks and harder, rhythmic strokes. Sukuna's hands, warm and possessive, slide up your sides, his fingers digging slightly into your flesh. He keeps his touch firm, grounding you as you ride the waves of pleasure. His mouth and tongue work relentlessly, building the intensity of your pleasure with every passing second.
As he devours you with his sinful mouth, he keeps his eyes locked on yours, drinking in the sight of your ecstasy. He wants nothing more than to bring you to the peak of pleasure, to feel you quiver against his lips, and to drink in every drop of your sweet release. “God, you’re so…pathetic,” he bloviated, amused at your shameless display of eroticism. While you are in your own world of pleasure, Sukuna raised one arm from his top set and one from his lower set to cup your breasts that were bouncing enticingly in front of him. You didn’t think too much of it outside of the usual stimulation until you felt a wet and slimy feeling touch your breasts, and you realized that he was using the mouths on his hands to lick your boobs.
You mewled as his mouths began sucking and teasing your hardened nipples with his tongue. Lavishing attention to your sensitive peaks. Your body arches, your chest poking out to push deeper into his hands. It is intense. His tongue alternates between your cunt and your clit before focusing on the sensitive bundle of nerves, abusing it til you see stars. Your feedback is choppy, like your brain can’t comprehend how good his ministrations are making you feel. Only broken moans escape your lips and you shudder. “You love getting used like this, huh?” He remarked in a condescending tone, smirking because he knows you can’t even register what he’s saying. “Moaning like a bitch in heat, you must love getting used like a whore,” he continued.
The sounds of your moans reverberated through the grand hall and Sukuna loved how dumb you were acting. Taking the experience to a new level, he took his free hand from his lower set of arms to reach behind you and place a hand over your ass. He was slick, coming in slow and then when you least expected it, he opened the mouth on his hand and stuck his tongue in your asshole. Your eyes that were downcast and glazed over immediately shot open and you shrieked in surprise. That was the catalyst to your orgasm and you released all over his tongue, the slithery appendage lapped up every drop of your juices eagerly, not letting a single ounce go to waste. The taste of your climax on his tongue is like ambrosia, and he relishes in the way your body tenses and spasms against his mouth. And when your release was done, went back into your cunt to resume fucking you to your next orgasm. You quickly began to squirm in his hold and tried to move away from the hand that penetrated your puckered hole, but was held down by Sukuna’s imposing grip.
He grinned evilly at your reaction, “what? You’re telling me you’ve never had anything in this hole?” You shook your head frantically as tears began to well in your eyes, uncomfortable at the sensation of his tongue wriggling around in your asshole. “No… it’s dirty,” you sniffed, feeling shame creep up on you. “Well, I’m happy to be the first. You should be honored, I’m teaching you how to be a proper whore for your husband,” he mused. His tongue extended and curled deeper into you, pressing into sensitive spots you didn’t know you had. This all so knew to you and it came so suddenly, all you wanted to do was run away from this newfound pleasure. His words only served to embarrass you further and make you want to try harder to get away.
Sukuna narrowed his eyes in annoyance at your incessant squirming, smacking your ass with his only free hand. “Behave.” He commanded, his voice deep and domineering, sending a fearful shiver of dread down your stomach. His command making you still immediately. But as you still, all the pleasure comes at you, receiving stimulation from the tongue in your cunt, the mouths on your nipples, and now the tongue in your asshole. Being confronted with all these different types of oral stimulants, you cum quick and without warning. You feel the pleasure burn through your tummy and legs. You cry out, unable to control your voice or your shuttering, digging your nails into his chest and leaving long red scratches. Sukuna could heal those easily, but he wants to leave them there to heal on their own, so he can parade them around like a trophy. He revels in the way you lose control, in the way you let the pleasure consume you, and he wants to have those moments etched into his skin.
And while he appreciates your sounds of ecstasy, you’re beginning to get a little too loud for him. Taking his last free hand, he places it over your mouth, the mouth on his palm eagerly latched onto you, its tongue exploring your mouth with an animalistic hunger. As Sukuna's tongue expertly danced with yours, his other two hands removed themselves from your breasts and found their way to your hips, his grip possessive and demanding. He pulled you off his stomach mouth and moved you lower, the bulge in his robes pressing against your thigh, a clear indication of his own undeniable desire from seeing you come undone. Sukuna took his hand away and broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips as he pulled away, a wicked grin etched on his face. He had only begun to savor the taste of your submission, and he had no intention of stopping anytime soon.
"Now, my little whore," he whispered huskily, his voice laced with an intoxicating mix of sadism and lust. "Let's see how long you can handle my insatiable hunger. I didn’t prepare your tight little holes for nothing."
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specshroom · 5 months
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•The Queen of Curses•
Part 1 / Part 2
(Ok So think of this as like a Sukuna wins and everyone dies AU lol. True form! Sukuna. Added the cursed blood bath for no reason. Suggestive, titty stuff but that's it, MDNI, She/her reader, no use of Y/N)
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Sukuna didn't rein over the Heian Era alone. It was always him and his lover, burning and slaughtering together. Their love for eachother was well known across the land. People knew not to be fooled by her less intimidating looks (in comparison to her husband) for she was just as brutal and heartless as he. 
All that changed when sorcerers from the era used all they're combined might to seal the Curse Queen inside a small cursed object, formed only from the combined sacrificed corpses of their comrades. 
They knew that the only way to defeat the King and Queen was to separate them and they succeeded. After hearing of the fate of his lover Sukuna flew into a blind rage leading to his own defeat at the hands of the same sorcerers.
One thousand years of relative peace passed with the two lovers separated but still yearning for each other. 
Luckily for the lovers, the ever devoted Uraume never stopped looking for a way to set their masters free. After centuries of searching and begrudgingly accepting a little help from Kenjaku, they finally found the cursed object that their Queen had been trapped in, a simple orb a little bigger than a tennis ball. It made Uraume's stomach turn thinking of such a powerful force being shoved into such a small thing. They carried the black orb with them everywhere while continuing the plot to releasing Sukuna. They found themselves whispering to it, compelled by the obsidian globe. They didn't know if their master could hear but they felt like it was right, like they could almost sense their masters overwhelming aura, compelling them to spill out everything they know. So Uraume spoke to it quite a lot, telling the dark orb and the beast inside about Sukuna's fate, about the new world, about Kenjaku and the plan to free her and her lover. 
The plan that finally comes to fruition. Sukuna is freed, his true form is restored in all its glory and hes wreaked havoc on most of Shibuya just as a warm up.  Uraume kneels before him.
"Master Sukuna."
 They say bowing their head.
 "Hmm?" 
Sukuna hums an acknowledgement, eyeing them with contempt. 
Uraume brings the dark crystal like ball out of their loose robes and holds it up, presenting it to their king. "Now, with your power fully restored we can release the Queen from her containment."
Sukuna stares at the ball in the sorcerers hand and gestures for Uraume to give it to him. He holds it as gently as his colossal hand is able to. It seems to get hotter in his hand, so hot it would surely sear the skin of a mortal. He pears into the orb only seeing his reflection in it, the Curse king nods to Uraume. He places it on the ground and they both step back, arms reaching out towards the orb on the ground.
In unison they both let out powerful blasts of cursed energy aiming right at the cursed seal. Strong streams of power, one white hot and the other pearcing cold, the orb starts to crack emitting a glowing white light. "It's breaking! Don't stop!" Sukuna orders and Uraume grunts but dutifully follows orders. The cracks grow wider and the light shines brighter before it's too blinding and they both cover their eyes as a powerful blast pierces the air.
In the settling dust stands a figure that's all too familiar to the both of them. They both watch as the figure shifts, leaning back and stretching their arms above their head, releasing a groan that is appropriate for someone who hasn't been able to move much in a thousand years. When the woman finally turns to Sukuna she sighs and smiles, letting out a relieved huff. Sukuna grins triumphantly and opens all four of his arms expecting a tide of thankful affection from his lover. When she takes the first few steps towards him her smile starts to waver until it's down to a grimace. Sukuna tenses as her eyes darken. He opens his mouth to ask what's the matter as she walks up to him and-
*SLAP*
Silence envelops the already desolate atmosphere. Sukuna's head is turned to the side, his eyes wide. He blinks before glaring at the offender with a look that could kill. She stares up at him with eyes just as deadly. 
"HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME IN THAT FUCKING BALL FOR SO LONG!!?"
Sukuna stares with his mouth open for a second genuinely shocked into silence until that second is over and he responds with equal vitriol. 
" HUH?! THAT WAS YOUR OWN FAULT WOMEN! DONT BE UNGRATEFUL!" 
The two fiery curses glare at each other with such violent intent, the very air around them heats up. 
"WHAT KIND OF SHITTY HUSBAND ALLOWS HIS OWN WIFE TO GET SEALED!"
"YOU CAN'T BLAME ME FOR THAT! DIDN'T I JUST SET YOU FREE?"
"DONT TAKE ALL THE CREDIT YOU BASTARD! URAUME'S THE ONE WHO-" 
As if the women just remembered that the other sorcerer exists, she turns around and there her loyal subject is, kneeling in her presence. 
" Welcome back master, it's good to see you" 
The woman's face brightens up immediately, "Uraume~" She sings running up to the sorcerer and lifting them into a bone crushing hug that would've killed a lesser being. "Oh, Thank you Uraume. My dutiful subject, you did so good." The Curse Queen coos at the sorcerer, squishing their face into her chest and stroking their duel coloured hair. Uraume doesn't hug back as to be respectful of their superior but they don't push back either, just letting their master man-handle (woman-handle?) them. 
Sukuna clicks his tongue at the show of affection and crosses two of his massive arms over his chest. No doubt in disbelief that HIS wife doesn't embrace HIM first after a thousand years spent apart.
The wife in question turns to him with Uraume still in her arms, an irritated look on her face. 
"What's your problem?" 
"My problem is that MY wife is being an ungrateful bitch." 
The benevolent woman stills and Uraume peers up at her from their place, nestled into the cleavage of her loose fitting kimono. The woman sets Uraume down onto the ground gently. She breathes a heavy sigh and in less that a second she's on Sukuna throwing a mass of red hot cursed energy right into his face. He blocks it in time and is able to keep blocking her continuous fast attacks. She gets frustrated and lets out a powerful blast that shakes the earth and forces him to jump back to avoid the blast.
She laughs with relief, finally being able to let out all that pent up cursed energy feels amazing. Her tattoos (similar to Sukuna's but not quite the same) almost seem to glow with the immense energy output being let off from her body. Only the tattoos on her face, neck and wrists are visible but Sukuna knows very well what the rest looks like, having traced every inch of ink with his fingers.
Sukuna takes the opportunity while she's distracted by the pure euphoria of letting her energy loose and comes barreling towards her, she can't react before he tackles her to the ground. He pins her hands down with two of his hands and another goes to roughly grab her jaw.
"Does it feel good to finally let off some steam, Baby?" 
The king of curses teasingly remarks from above her.
"Baby? That's new." She questions with a teasing grin. Her words are a bit slurred from the way her husband is holding her jaw.
"Might as well get with the times." He bites back with an even more cocksure grin. She scratches and kicks at him and bites at his hand. With all her concentration she channels the sheer amount of pent up cursed energy in her body and lets it burst out in a deafening blast that knocks Sukuna off of her. Static reverberates in the air.
In the few seconds it takes for him to recover she takes the opportunity to pounce on him pinning him to the ground. Grinning from her place above him her heavy breaths and beating heart match his. Her crazy, alert eyes meet four others with the same sentiment.
"I missed you so fucking much." Sukuna says before he pulls her by her robes into a deep kiss. The kiss is somehow aggressive and sensual.
Two of Sukuna's massive hands go to her waist and thigh holding her body to his as he sits up. The third hand is on the floor for balance and the last is tangled in her hair pressing her further into the kiss, as if that's even possible. Both Cursed beings are glad that they don't need to breath or else they surely would have suffocated each other by now. 
The queen of curses has never been more pleased by the fact that her husband doesn't seem to know what a shirt is. Sukuna has voiced many times that he wished his wife shared the same sentiments only for her to scoff at the suggestion, although, now she thinks the idea is one of the best he's ever had.
They fight for dominance with their tongues. Still locked in the passionate sloppy kiss the woman unlatches her hands from his hair to slip off the robes she was wearing over a loose fitting kimono. She unwraps the black accented white Kimono, rather slowly in sukunas opinion to let her breasts fall free to the warm air. 
Sukuna releases his mouth from hers, licking his spit slicked lips to stare down at his beautiful wife's beautiful tits.
"Yeah, remember these are mine. Only mine." Sukuna grumbles lowly before smooshing his face right between them, sighing deeply like a thousand year old itch has finally been scratched.
"Aww, is Ryō a little jealous?" The woman preens in a patronising manner while lightly stroking his fluffy hair.
"Poor baby~" She coos, repeating the pet name he used for her. Her teasing only gets a glare and a growl from the beast of a man currently buried in her tits, holding her impossibly closer to his face.
She chuckles down at him, a loving yet menacing look in her eyes.
"Well maybe I should let Uraume- where did they go?"
She looks around the scorched city landscape looking for her white haired subordinate and as if they heard her words summoning them they appear with a respectful bow.
"I have made the preparations for your bath."
"Thank you, Uraume~"
The woman beams and turns to the man who is still occupied with her tits, he's now picked a tit to suckle on, fondling the other in his rough hand.
"come now Ryo, it's time for our bath." She says curtly and the man groans with his mouth full, absolutely dreading even the idea of his tongue leaving the hardened nipple he's been sucking on. If the two objects poking her ass are any indication if it was up to him they would never get to the blood bath Uraume so kindly set up for them.
She tries standing up and pulling away but the man is latched on tightly, all four arms clutching around her as if they never want to be an inch apart from her again. The more she struggles the bigger the two chubs in his pants grow. She sighs and struggles once more.
"Uraume planned this out very nicely for us, Ryomen. Just do what I say Damnit!"
She pulls at his hair and he bites down on her tit in response, earning a yelp and a harsh smack on the head from her. He laughs, not with the mouth on her tit but with the mouth on his stomach. She peers down at it, as if she just remembered it's there. Without wasting more time she grabs the large tongue crushing it with her grip and tugging on it hard.
Sukuna releases her tit to yell out in pain.
"OW, WOMAN! You should be grateful for every ounce of attention I give you! OW!"
As Sukuna rages, she snorts and jumps out of his now loosened arms. Turning her back to him, she approaches the other sorcerer who's head is still bowed.
"Uraume, would you kindly show me to my bath?"
"Of course, Master"
Uraume stands and bows their head. Holding out their arm for their Queen.
She holds onto Uraume's arm, purposely squishing her still exposed breasts into the sorcerer's side as she smiles down at them.
"I guess we'll have the bath all to ourselves then, Uraume~"
Uraume closes their eyes with a knowing smile and nods in response, very accustomed to the games the two lovers would play with each other, often forcing them right in the middle. Their Queen would often promise that she'd one day make Uraume flustered, something that to this day has yet to occur.
The sorcerer doesn't even flinch at their powerful master fawning over them, stroking their arm and pressing her now marked up tits closer into them as the two walk off towards the bath Uraume prepared.
"HEY!! WHAT THE HELL!?? URAUME!"
Sukuna sits in disbelief at his wife's antics. As if he's only now remembering what a tease she is and has always been.
His wife looks back at him over her shoulder, she shrugs her kimono off her shoulder, exposing her tattooed shoulder to him before turning back to Uraume snickering.
Sukuna huffs and grins, shaking his head. He's so fucking happy to have his wife back.
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(AN: I was originally planning to make this smut but... It just got away from me😭😭 sooo... Maybe in a part two? 👀👀)
4K notes · View notes
gutsby · 6 days
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Ruined!
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Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.
Warnings: 18+. Peepaw brainrot + a dash of anorgasmia. Unprotected p-in-v, cockwarming, age gap, daddy kink.
Note: Finals are whooping my ass left & right. This is a quickie.
Word count: 1.2k | Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse
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Surely he was hurting you now.
Joel Miller had a kink for many, many fun activities, but splitting a sweet young thing like you over his cock to the point you were almost in tears was just not one of them.
At the same time your poor, surely-bruised walls pulsed around his hardened length, he felt a pang of guilt. His balls were pressed against your ass like two lead weights, soaked with the remains of your third release, and his mind was at war with itself—keep fucking you like this? Pull out and offer his sincerest apologies for not being able to cum? A boy your age would’ve never had you waiting around like that, aching around his cock, much less begging for something as simple as a cumshot.
He decided to go straight to the source. Leaning over your prone body on the bed before him, he was careful not to rut his hips or jostle his dick around too much.
Joel pressed a hot, stubbled kiss to your cheek, then:
“‘S’it too much, baby? She need a break, maybe?”
Joel thumbed at that space where your body ended and his began and nearly lost his mind to the pearly-white slick that had accumulated with time. Two hours time, he had to remind himself while you moaned and writhed and bucked your ass back. Your cunt was choking him.
Crying, too.
Your eyes flew open the moment his words reached you.
“You kiddin’ me, Miller?! I could do this shit all day.”
Sometimes Joel forgot you were only in your twenties. Really, the thought only occasionally crossed his mind in moments like these—or when your father, his best friend, happened to bring you up—but when it did, it hit him hard. You were young. Lively. Surely far too spry and full of life to be messing around with a man as old as him.
Joel’s guilt ran almost commensurate with his pleasure when he felt you anchor your feet on the bed and start to fuck yourself back and forth over his still-throbbing dick.
Almost.
He planted a hand beside your head and grinned. He let you fuck him. Felt you pull off, crawl up the bed a little, then beckon him back to your body, where your ass was now pointing up and your back was arched in invitation.
Almost.
“You know I can’t sleep without your cum inside me.”
And you made a point to spread your knees and look behind you with a smile as sweet as Milo’s tea, fingers drumming a beat against the bedspread in anticipation.
“You do wanna fill me up, don’t you, daddy?” you teased.
Yeah, no. The guilt was gone. Joel could worry about being a depraved old man when he was done cumming.
Then he was back inside you, driving his hips until every last inch of him was wrapped snug within your wet and velvety embrace, and he sighed. A real protracted one, like the kind he was liable to exhale after climbing two flights of stairs, or else just hoisting himself off the sofa. Or lifting you in his arms and fucking you hard against the hood of his Bronco. Any time. Any place. You were kind enough to oblige him with the best cardio of his life, so the least Joel could do now was make you cum again.
He snatched your hands up in one of his own and placed your wrists at the base of your spine. With his other, free set of fingers he took to rubbing your clit gently.
“SON OF A—”
“—good girl.”
You let out a bloodcurdling scream into your pillow and secretly hoped this man’s dick would never deflate again. Not with the way he was sawing his thing back and forth and dragging you to the edge, circling your clit like you were the single most precious thing in the world to him.
“Oh, sweet pea, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Like he could feel the tears staining the cushion himself.
“Mmrooonme,” you cried into it, voice garbled by cotton.
“What’s’at, honey? Can’t hear ya.”
Joel then bent at the waist, pretending to be leaning in to hear you better, when really he knew he’d be digging in your guts with that big, bulbous head of his and making you squeal again. Hands still held captive behind you, you inched your chin back on the pillow so your moans could be heard even louder while Joel sped up.
“You— ruined me,” you repeated. Now clear as ever.
Joel tried to hide his smile and glanced down between your body and his. Then, while his ring finger joined the other two to make their tight, light circles, he returned,
“Ruined? Pussy feels just fine t’me.”
You’d kill him if he wasn’t so good at this. You turned your head more to meet his eyes from the corner of yours.
“No. Ruined me. For anyone else.”
Probably forever.
“Good.”
You knew he liked it that way.
You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The hefty, broad, and greying Joel Miller had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.
First, his arms came to rest on either side of your body.
“Shit,” you whimpered.
Next, his lips went trailing down to your ear.
“Just a little more, sugar—that’s it,” he murmured while his hips sank in, and you felt that big, delicious stretch.
Then he released your hands so they were free to squeeze the sheets, and when they did, his moved over them—lacing his fingers through your own—and his lips pressed a kiss to your jaw. He held you in a tender grasp. His breath was hot on your neck, and the whole of his body was blanketing yours. Joel knew you liked it like that, which is why he made sure not to leave an inch of space in between. He was grunting, rutting, holding you close while his cock drilled a maddening pace inside you.
“You ruined me too, y’know,” he mumbled into your skin.
His nose was flush with the side of your cheek, nudging inward. Begging you to turn your head just a little more so he could kiss you. Weak as you were, you obliged.
And you moaned against that grey, stubbled chin of his when the thrusts above you had your cunt grinding the bed, rubbing that soft and helpless nub on the sheets.
“C’mon— let daddy have it,” he growled, “Let daddy have it and make it his, huh? That okay by you, baby?”
It was.
More than okay, as confirmed by the orgasm that tore through your body moments later while your teeth sank into the flesh of Joel’s lower lip and your cunt clenched and soaked over him whole. Joel wedged his tongue in your mouth and fucked you through it. His broad and callused hands were like iron around your own, holding you tight and keeping you still amidst a maelstrom of pleasure that combed over your every last nerve.
He licked into your mouth. Licked over it. Took the sick and distinct pleasure of knowing no one but him got to see you like this, with your jaw hanging slack and your eyes rolling back and your whines repeating quietly, ‘Daddydaddypleasedaddyfuckohfuckdontstop.’
Maybe ruined wasn’t such a bad thing to be at all.
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aaagustd · 2 months
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make it cute | jeon jungkook
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title: make it cute
pairing: jeon jungkook x (f)reader
genre/rating: smut, pwp, 18+
summary: if jungkook loans someone money, he expects to be paid with just that. but tonight, he just might make an exception.
wc: 1.5k
warnings: infidelity, swearing, mentions ransoms and everything that comes with that (threats, m*rder, etc), pictures??, consensual g*n play (more like oral but yeah), sloppy bl*wjob/deep throating, consent bc it’s sexy, pet names, degradation, m*sturbation, facial c*m shot, dirty talk, slight power play, obedience kink, hair pulling, face f*cking, unedited, that should be all
release date: march 15th, 2024; 10:55pm est
note: idk why or how i came up with this trash lol. i was bored and wanted to take a break from writing my other stuff. i hope you enjoy. divider by cafekitsune.
inbox | m.list | join my taglist | read on ao3
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“Keep going until I tell you to stop.”
Jungkook can feel his pants getting tighter with each second he stands there watching you slurp on the barrel of his gun. He’s done some sick shit in his life, but this—this was your idea.
“You’re deadass enjoying this, aren’t you?” 
He can tell by how you’re rubbing your clit and pinching your stiff nipples.
“M-Mhm,” you choke out a moan as you devour the cold steel buried in your throat.
He can’t lie and say he isn’t impressed, or turned on. But this is strictly business. Your darling husband owes him a lot of money, and he’s going to pay it if he wants his little trophy home by dinner.
Otherwise, he’d be glad to keep you here in his bedroom.
With an ass like yours, Jungkook wouldn’t let you out of his sight if you were his. You’d be on his lap no matter the time or the place. You don’t let this kind of pussy off the leash in this world. This guy’s an idiot.
He can only imagine what those soft lips would look like wrapped around his dick. He’s twitching at the thought of it.
As if you are reading his mind, your hand leaves your soaking wet panties, and you place it directly on his Armani-covered crotch. A hiss pushes through his clenched teeth, biting back the urge to curse at you for your carelessness. 
Your mouth filled to capacity, but he knows what you’re asking for. 
“Hey!”
Jungkook isn’t a gentle man, but he’s careful to not snap your neck when he grips your hair and pulls your head back—removing your bruised lips from his gun. Your lungs suddenly become filled with air, leaving you desperate to catch your breath. Your coughs nearly drown out the sound of his own voice.
“Look at me,” he orders, and those blown out watery eyes find his face instantly.
Sexy and obedient. Yeah, he definitely has a problem on his hands.
“Are you sure this is what you want? I just want my money—”
“Fuck my throat.”
“Pardon?”
He heard you. Even though your voice is rough and hoarse, he didn’t miss a beat. He’s just stunned.
“My throat…Shove it down my throat, please.”
Please. 
You didn’t have to add that part. He was already getting ready to take his dick out.
“Well, shit.”
Jungkook quickly places his gun on the dresser and starts unbuckling his pants. He steals glances at you waiting patiently on your knees like a good little slut. The sight has him fidgeting like a virgin.
Once he frees himself from the confinement of his trousers, his dick springs out and reveals itself to your expecting eyes. A smirk grows on his face as he watches you gawk over his size. Whatever you were expecting, he’s exceeded that.
“Bit off more than you can chew, huh?”
You seem offended by his assumption. The look you give him says exactly that.
“Not at all,” you reply, adjusting yourself to align with his midsection. “May I?”
He grants you permission to touch, and you waste no time wrapping your smooth hand around him. You stroke it as you marvel over the raised veins that climb up to the reddened tip, licking your lips like you’re sitting before a feast.
“Don’t fuck around, kay? I still got a bullet with your name on it, princess.”
You heed his warning and move closer, sizing him up to see how much you can actually fit in your mouth.
“Sorry,” you whisper, and he shudders.
That manners might get you on the winning team; if you play your cards right. 
“No sweat, beautiful. Keep going.”
It’s probably the first time he’s said something that sincere, but honestly, he’s just trying to get gobbled up before he cums all over his freshly waxed floors. His men are probably wondering what the hell is taking so long. For all they know, you had to go to the bathroom.
Jungkook almost yells out when warm wetness surrounds his throbbing dick like a compress. His mind struggles to comprehend what to do. He isn’t sure if he should just let you take over, but he’s not able to thrust even if he wanted to. He can’t move. The way you’re slurping him up, he might even be able to walk after this.
“Easy,” he warns.
You look at him and raise your eyebrow, finally displaying a hint of cockiness. 
Jungkook pulls himself together and finds his bearings because there isn’t a chance in hell he’s going to boost your ego anymore than he already has.
“Fine,” he grunts. “You wanna play rough, I’ll teach you.”
His hands venture to the back of your head, giving him full control of your intake. Your eyes stay glued to him as he harshly uses his grip to push your mouth into his swift thrusts. You begin to gag and choke, dripping spit all over his dick and the floor—but he doesn’t mind.
It’s not like he has to clean it up.
“Goddamn. Who’s training this throat, hm?” He buries himself in your throat, making your face collide with his crotch. “Your hubby?”
When he hears your gurgled reply he pulls away and allows you to speak. Through your panting, you give him a solid response. One he’s sure you’ve never shared with your husband.
“I’ll suck him dry every night before I let him cum in me.”
Jungkook nods. “Smart woman.”
But he doesn’t give a shit what you do with that pretty pussy. Right now, your services are needed elsewhere.
“Come here.”
Hopefully, you were able to take a breath because Jungkook’s dick can’t hold back anymore.
You two had a deal, and he’s going to uphold his part as you did yours. You complied, now it’s time to send your sweet husband some face shots so he knows Jungkook isn’t fucking around. It’s been a month since the funds were due. 
It’s time to pay up. One way, or another.
“Fuck!”
He curses each time his cock hits the back of your throat, suddenly feeling his muscles tense up from the pressure building inside. The sweat building up on his forehead slowly starts to roll down his face, but he’s too occupied to wipe it off. 
Your warmth has him hunched over and leaning on his toes, his mouth in an O-shape as he comes closer to release. While he’s pulling in and out of you, he catches a glimpse of your juicy cunt being filled with your fingers, your body squirming and seeking the same relief he’s chasing.
Both of your moans fill the room as you reach the peak of your highs. Your eyes roll back as your body stiffens. Jungkook knows exactly what’s going on with you, and as you’re riding out the waves of your orgasm, he waits for the perfect moment to pull out and paint you with his seed.
The time comes when you’re no longer able to control your breathing, and you’re desperately looking for air after you’ve finally come down. It’s not a second too soon because Jungkook cannot bear another dive into your wet mouth. 
He removes his dick and gives it a couple of quick strokes before his cum begins to squirt all over your pretty face. You sigh delightfully as he covers you with a warm blanket of his cum.
It’s everywhere, but he kept his promise and didn’t get any in your hair.
“Ready?” Jungkook asks, still out of breath.
“I am.”
Jungkook slips his phone out of his back pocket and finds his camera. He positions it in front of your face, and he’s amused by your exhausted smile.
“Is my hair okay?” you ask him, and this time he actually has to chuckle.
Since you’ve made his night a little better, he does a quick job smoothing down flyaways and kinks. Honestly, he didn’t have to because you look hot already. Hair messy, tits out, with his kids all over your face and the expensive diamond necklace your husband bought you.
He can’t think of a more perfect image.
You pose provocatively as he takes a few pictures, and when he’s done, he finally guides you to the bathroom. He instructed you to take your time and take as long as you need to freshen up while he sits on the bed to make this official.
He opens his messages and finds the contact he’s searching for within a minute. A mischievous grin slowly begins to form on his face as he taps the latest images in his camera roll, sending his debtor a little message to stir the pot.
03:14 am Sent: img.788, img.789….
03:14 am Sent: at the spot fucking your bitch. bring my money and i might let you borrow her again.
He’s lying. You’re staying right here, or you can join your husband in the little bed his men made for him.
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kentocee · 2 months
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Just Ask • Nanami x Fem!reader • (18+)
CW: smut (servicedom!nanami, needy!reader, use of good girl and petnames, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, aftercare)
Cee’s Note: Based on this post 🌝 been meaning to start writing for this man and finally gained the motivation. Hope y’all enjoy 🤭
[minors do NOT interact; explicit content ahead]
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Nanami was a patient man.
He knew it was only a matter of time before you were practically begging for him to take you right then and there.
But until you say it, he remained still.
No matter how subtle you try to be when you bend slightly in front of him, exposing your thick ass covered in his favorite lace panties. No matter the bedroom eyes you give him whenever he steals a glance at you. No matter how slightly your fingertips brush against his shoulders as you walk by him.
He wouldn’t give in to your temptation.
You could say he was merely a gentleman unlike other beastly men that lacked self control. It’s clear you want him as badly as he wants you, but there’s something about those words falling from your lips that he craves to hear.
Your whiny voice pleading for him was so pleasing to him. The desperation oozing off your tongue, begging for him to give you what you wanted was all he needed.
“Please,” your voice barely above a whisper, clinging to his muscular chest, looking up at him with your perfect doe eyes.
You were so precious to him, how could he not give you whatever you desired. Hell, he would give you the world if he could.
Even if he wanted nothing more than to pound your pretty little pussy with all his might, he wanted to hear you say it.
“Please what, princess?” he said, lips hovered just above your lips, not letting them touch.
“Please fuck me, Nanami,” you whine.
As if a switch was flicked, his lips were on yours in a crushing kiss. His palm held the side of your jaw as his lips moved hungrily against yours.
The once calm and collected man was now practically tearing your silky nightgown from your body. Hands roaming all over you, he couldn’t get enough of how the soft fleshy skin felt under his touch. His lips attacked your neck, littering your skin with small bruises.
Nothing felt better than being able to have you like this. Slipping his thick finger inside your leaking cunt, he couldn’t get over how your warm walls welcomed him and gripped him so tightly..
“There you go baby,” Nanami watched the sight of your eyes rolling back as he pumped another finger inside you. A sense of pride fills him seeing just his fingers can cause such a reaction out of you.
“M-More Nanami,” your hands reached out to palm him through his slacks.
“Mm so greedy,” Nanami hummed, bringing his other hand to rub circles on your clit.
Such an insatiable little thing you were and Nanami couldn’t get enough of you. His mission was to please you and satisfy you even if it meant neglecting his own. He hissed as you rubbed him through his pants, his painful erection threatening to burst through the seems.
“Please…nghhh,” you purred, “Need your cock”
Your wish was his command and with that he removed his hand from your clit to free his thick cock and lined it to your folds. His ears perked up at the sharp gasp that fell from your lips as he sank into your tight folds.
“Atta girl,” Nanami groaned, “taking me in so well”
His thrusts were steady and slow, stretching your pretty little pussy to take him deeper until he completely bottomed out inside you.
“This what you wanted, my love?” Nanami knew the answer before it could slip from your tongue, but he needed to hear it once more.
“Fuck me harder”
Nanami could finally let go and release all his pent up urges. He slammed his hips against yours causing you to cry out in pleasure. His pace was sporadic as he pounded into you with all his might, the grip on your hips tightening by the second.
Your fingertips claw and grip his back as he continued to abuse your cunt, kissing your cervix with each thrust.
Nanami could feel himself reaching his edge but he wouldn’t dare cum until you have. He reached down, rubbing your clit in attempt to get you there faster.
Your legs start to writhe as you feel your orgasm approaching. Between Nanami’s brutal pace and your clit being stimulated, it was all too much pleasure for you.
Broken moans spill from your lips as you reached your high while Nanami cooed praises of “good girl” and “that’s it baby” as you creamed all over his cock.
“Gonna fill you up nice and full,” Nanami grunted, before completely bottoming out, filling your hole with his cum.
The dazed look in your eyes and the fucked out expression that met his as he slowly pulled out and watched his essence ooze out of you, he swore he never saw something more beautiful. He loved you wholeheartedly especially in moments like this.
Where he can take care of your every need and worship your body after the deed had been done. Getting to caress you and kiss every inch of your skin he could reach. Showing you how much he loves you and he would do it every time.
All you had to do was just ask.
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archermind · 6 months
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I Can See You
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Spencer Reid x F!Reader - Smut (18+)
Description: “and we kept everything professional but something changed, it's something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it's best if we move fast and keep quiet.”. You and Spencer are each other's dirty little secret, no one in the BAU knows what is going on between you both.
Word count: 1,800 approx.
Content Warning: Mentions of f!masturbation, kissing, PinV, Receiving Oral F, swearing, Fingering, dom!spencer, good girl, dirty talk
author note: okay.. so i tried writing a smut. idk how i feel about it. i read smut and think the things people write are really good but when i write it i always think it’s so bad. i hope it isn’t too bad. feel free to give me feedback! hope you enjoy <3
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Stolen glances and longing stares, that was how this all started. You and Spencer found yourselves sneaking between each other's hotel rooms while on cases, searching for comfort in a form of lust. The first time was supposed to be a one time thing… never to happen again. Yet, you couldn’t help yourself… you longed for his touch and he longed for yours. Your mind is forever replaying the first moment he made, the way he-
“Earth to Y/N!” Derek announced, waving his hands in front of my face.
“Oh, sorry” you mumbled, realizing your zoning out and complete oblivious state to the world around you.
“What has gotten into you girl” Derek scoffed
“More like who!” emily remarked, causing JJ to snicker “we have seen that extra pep in your step lately Y/N”
You shifted in your seat becoming anxious that people were going to crack onto what was going on between you and Reid. Everyday you were nervous to even look in Reid’s direction… It didn't help that everyone that surrounded you both were some of the best profilers you know. You rolled your eyes putting on a confident facade and prepared your fighting argument against Emily’s wrong, but so right, speculation. 
“Right everyone let’s just focus on the case” Hotch ordered, “Agent Y/N’s love life will just have to remain a mystery for you all until you solve this one”
“Oh c'mon Hotch, you are supposed to be on my side!” you called out desperately as everyone laughed, “i am reporting you all to HR for bullying on the job!”
“Boohoo babygirl!” Morgan said, pouting.
Throughout the rest of the flight you all spoke about the case, trying to build a profile upon the characteristics of the murder. Words like sadist and sociopath were thrown around while you yet again zoned out, this time focused on Reid and his soft snores. You had woken up, naked, to the sound of his snores a couple times now. Each time was just as good as the last. You found yourself counting down the time until you landed, wishing the minutes would go by fast. 
-
Landing came by painfully and slowly. Some time before the flight landed, Spencer had woken up. He seemed shifty and irritated. Not to mention, he could not take his eyes off of you. You felt yourself become more and more needy for him with every passing second. Clock watching made it worse. 
By the time you all arrived at the hotel that you were staying at, it was midnight. Everyone had no energy. The goodbyes and goodnights were a mix of mumbles and grumbles. Your room was right down the hall from Spencer. Emily and JJ across the hall, Morgan next door to Reid, and Hotch was one floor above us all. A dim pale yellow light tried to light the room as you walked through to the bathroom, a hot soak was well needed. Today had seemed to be so long and exhausting.
As you plunged yourself into the bubbles and warmth, you leant back allowing yourself to relax in the tub. Soap suds covered your body as you massaged your aching muscles. You moaned at the release you felt, free from tension that ached your body. As you were massaging your sore body, you felt your mind racing back to Dr. Spencer Reid and your hand inching further to the place you wanted him right now. As your hand grazed your core, you heard a ping to your phone. 
You sighed as the moment had been rudely interrupted and ruined. You grabbed your robe, exiting the tub and putting it over your body. Grasping your phone, your stomach fluttered. ‘Spence’. ‘I need you Y/N’. you bit back a smirk, knowing what was about to happen. ‘Don’t let them see you..’ you responded back. 
Quickly, you ran to the door ready to let the man you wanted most into your hotel room. It was scandalous and thrilling sneaking around with him. It was what you both needed while dealing with stressful cases. A source of release.. Mentally and physically. 
As you opened the door, the slender built boy slipped past quickly into the room to avoid being seen and perhaps questioned as to why he was entering his co-workers' hotel room at 1am. You closed the door silently and instantly you were pressed against it. Spencer’s lips fit yours perfectly. You felt his wet tongue swipe along your bottom lip, begging for entrance. It was heated and vulgar. The desperation for each other was filthy. Your tongues played war with each other until like always Spencer won dominance. You were like a putty in his hands, allowing him to take control of your every movement. 
“You don't understand how beautiful you looked all day” spencer rambled, “i've been wanting to get you alone and worship your body since i first laid eyes on you this morning” 
You moaned at his sweet nothings, moving your lips to trail down his neck as your hands played with the buttons on his shirt. You were eager to rid him of his clothes, eager for him. As your hand went down each button, you slowly freed him out of his shirt. You gasped, running your hands along his chest and to his lower abdomen. 
“I have missed you spence” you stated, breathlessly. 
He slowly walked you backwards towards the bed, peppering kisses around your face. You giggled at the childish move but felt adored. Slowly, he lowered you to lie on the bed and hooked his arms around your legs giving you a strong tug to the edge of the bed. 
“Trust me, Y/N not as much as i missed you doll” he smirked, undoing the tie on your robe. 
Your chest rose and fell fast. You lay there in front of him naked and for the taking. Allowing him to see the most vulnerable and insecure side of yourself. He slowly lowered himself allowing his mouth to come in contact with your soft skin. Spencer kissed and nipped with his teeth, your most sensitive areas. Your neck. Your collarbone. Your breasts. You couldn't help but let the moans fall from your lips. He chuckled at your reaction, knowing he had you exactly where he wanted.
Spencer caressed your left breast pinching your nipple. all while he licked, sucked and bit the right one. You felt wetness pool at your core. All. For. Him. slowly, you felt his nose brush down your abdomen as the pit of your stomach flipped. No matter how many late nights you spent together and how much you prepared yourself, you still got nervous when giving yourself to spencer. Even if he was cautious and gentle.
You squirmed and wriggled as you felt his hot breath on your clit. You were dripping with anticipation at this point. Spencer began to kiss each thigh, slowly working his way closer to the place you wanted him most. Soon enough, Spencer pressed his lips against your clit licking and biting. Slowly, he circled his tongue against your clit as you became more and more sensitive with each lap. Your hand tangled in his brown curls, causing him to moan in response. You cried out in pleasure as he inserted two fingers into you and began pumping in and out of your dripping cunt. 
“Fuck spencer” you breathed out.
“Does that feel good Y/N?” he questioned you, already knowing the answer from the way you were a mess below him. 
“Mhm” you mumbled. 
Spencer pulled away from your clit and took his fingers out from with you, gripping your thighs and turning you on your stomach. You heard his zipper become undone. You looked back and bit your bottom lip suppressing a moan as you saw him in nothing but his underwear. You could see his hard bulge and it made you even more desperate for him.
“Look at you so needy!” Spencer whispered, grabbing a condom from his jean pocket. 
You eyed him up and down as his teeth ripped the small packet open. 
“Hurry… im so fucking desperate” you were a wreck as you tried to speak your wants, “i do need you spencer” 
“Good girls wait” he remarked
You watched him slowly slide the rubber on his hard length, he held a strong eye contact with yours. Enjoying the way you watched him, eagerly waiting for him. You bit your lip hard trying to suppress your moans - considering your co-workers were just down the hall and above you. You hissed in pleasure and pain when Spencer unexpectedly forced his entire length into you without warning. 
It was raw and animalistic the way you both wanted eachother, needed eachother and fucked eachother. Spencer Reid was a quiet boy. Yet, who you now grew to know and spend time with, you saw him in a much different light. He was a gentle, passionate man who adored and cared for you. Reid didnt just use you for sex… he worshipped your body while he fucked you. 
The room was filled with the sound of your breathless moans and the sound of your skin meeting each other. Spencer was deep inside you and with every stroke he made in and out of you, you grew closer to your release. 
“You feel so fucking good Y/N” spencer moaned as he flipped you onto your back, allowing him to watch your face as he fucked you senseless. 
You tried responding but you were a moaning mess. No words could be formed. You were drunk on Spencer’s cock. With every thrust, your tits bounced, sending Spencer's mind on a spiral. 
“You look so fucking good taking my cock, doll” spencer exclaimed, as his hand connected with your clit rubbing small quick circles. 
You felt your stomach ball as you grew closer to your orgasm. You cried in pleasure as he thrusted deeper and slower, hitting your g-spot each time. 
“I- fuck- please spence” you begged him growing more sensitive to his touch and nearing your finish. 
“I know Y/N” he grunted as he entered in and out of you, feeling closer to his orgasm each time, “cum for me” 
You cried out at your release, digging your nails down Spencer's back for some stability on the edge of your pleasure. Your ears rang out from the overwhelming stimulation, while Spencer rode out to his orgasm. It came quickly as he collapsed tired and breathless onto your chest. Time passed as you two lay tangled within each other's arms, trying to calm down from your high.
“Y/N?” he questioned
“Yea” you huffed out
“I’m glad you joined the Quantico BAU team” he stated letting out a breathy laugh
“Yeah me too” you smirked, “the benefits are pretty good too.”
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