Simon just returned home from his last mission, exhausted and battered, and all he wants is his wife. He knows youβre asleep, he knows you have been for quite a while, but he also knows you like being woken up with his cock shoved so deep in your pussy it feels like heβs in your throat.
He stands at the edge of the bed after pulling the sheets off your body, his cargos and boxers around his ankles, his heavy cock resting in his palm while he strokes himself at the sight of you. You lay on your side, your knees curled up against your chest with your cheek pressed against the soft pillows. You look so peaceful as if you are waiting for him to ruin you exactly how he wants.
You wear one of Simonβs t-shirts and it drapes across your body, swallowing your curves and leaving everything to the imagination. He doesnβt miss how your nipples peak against the fabric from the cold breeze of the ac the second the sheets fall off you. A tiny cotton thong wraps around your hips, hugging your body tight, the soft fat of your ass and lower belly peeking out around it.
He groans while rubbing his tip, collecting the precum beading there, and running it down his shaft. Within seconds his clothes are off, the material begins to feel claustrophobic the harder he becomes, and he gets on the bed as silently as possible. It dips under his weight, but he holds you steady, so you donβt stir.
βHey baby,β he whispers, running his hands on your lower belly, his fingers worshipping the stretch marks there only for a second before he moves his hand lower to be in between your thighs.
Two fingers rest against your clit, massaging it, rubbing slow, tight circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. He pushes your t-shirt up, admiring your breasts, watching the way your chest rises and falls with your sleepy breathing. Pinching, pulling, rolling your nipple between his fingers, your body begins to squirm, and whimpers begin to fall but youβre still fast asleep.
His aching cock rests against your ass, and he spreads your cheeks, gazing at your wet folds before sticking a finger in just to make sure. He curls his digit ever so slightly, loving the way your hips press back into him for more, loving the way your body responds to him despite not being aware of what heβs doing.
He pulls it out, his calloused finger glistening in the dim lighting of the room and sucks the slick off of him. The taste of you floods his mouth, musky and sweet, something he can never get tired of. If you were in a different position, he wouldβve eaten you out until you begged him to fuck you, but this will do just fine.
Notching his head at your entrance, he leans down to take a nipple in his mouth, and while he sucks, he pushes himself inside of you. Deeper and deeper until he is nestled against your cervix and your body begins to wake up.
βSiβ¦,β you ask groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, unable to deny the sensations running through you from your husbandsβ cock in your pussy.
βItβs okay baby. βs just me,β he replies, popping his mouth off your nipple, moving his lips to yours instead.
He kisses you soft and slow, his cock pumping in and out of you at the same pace, his hips rolling against your ass with a soft slap and squelch from how wet you are. You moan into his mouth, and he swallows it greedily while one hand latches on to the hair at his nape, and the other curls against the soft sheets.
The veins and ridges of his cock slide through your walls, filling you up to the brim, leaving no room inside of you empty for long. Precum leaks out against your cervix and you clamp down on him, he pulls out until only the tip is inside and your pussy begs him for more. He rests his forehead against you, his warm, heavy breath hitting your skin and sending shivers down your spine while he fucks you.
βFeels so g-good,β you moan, arching your ass into him, doing your best to meet him for every single thrust he gives you.
βI know baby, I know,β he groans, his lips brushing against yours, the feeling of you so close is consuming him whole.
His hand moves between your legs again and they fall open for him this time. He gathers your slick before rubbing your clit, those same tight circles gliding against the sensitive bundle of nerves faster now as his pace picks up. His other hand holds himself up, his palm digging into the mattress where he fists the fabric, steadying himself when the feeling of your walls wrapped so tightly around him is almost unbearable.
Simon thrusts into you faster, harder, deeper, anything to feel your pussy clamp down on him as a silent beg for more. Your body writhes beneath him, your eyes shut tight with your mouth hanging open ever so slightly while moans and whimpers fall from your pretty, soft lips. Your hand moves from his nape and grabs your breast instead where you pull and pinch your own nipple in search of more stimulation.
His gaze falls to your small hand, touching yourself just the way you want, pleasuring your body at the same time as him, and he has to do everything in his power not to cum inside you just from that. Instead, he fucks you harder, hitting deeper, hitting spots only he can.
βF-fuck, Si,β you cry out when he angles his hips perfectly to hit your sweet spot.
Stars burst behind your eye lids, the feeling of pleasure coursing through your body, the feeling of your orgasm coiling tight in your lower belly as if it is ready to snap at any given time. You rock back against him, letting him reach even deeper inside of you, drunk on the feeling of his fat cock bullying your pussy.
βYeah? That feel good,β he asks, doing it again, and again, and again until you canβt even form a single coherent thought.
All of it overwhelms you in the best way possible. His fingers working your puffy, swollen clit that begs for the attention he always gives it. Your hardened, aching nipples that you pull, and pinch, and twist to relieve the need to be touched there. His cock slamming into your cervix, hitting your sweet spot, rubbing your walls raw until you canβt hold back anymore.
βIβm c-cumming! O-oh Si,β you whimper, throwing your head back against the pillow, giving yourself to him in the most vulnerable way possible.
βCum on my dick,β he growls out, pounding you harder, begging to feel you unravel all because of him.
The sound of skin slapping, moans, groans, and whimpers fill the room. The headboard slams against the wall, the bed creaks under the harsh movements and heavy weight. The two of you are consumed by each other, drowning in the feeling of pleasure and desire, both itching to feel the other.
βCβmon baby. Give it to me.β
You nod your head frantically, unable to say anything even if you try. Your body becomes rigid, your muscles drawing taut, and your orgasm rocks through you. Cum gushes from your pussy, leaking out around his length, leaving a white cream around the base of him. You cry out, your hand looking for purchase on anything, and when you land on his lower abdomen, your nails dig into his skin.
He grunts from the pleasurable pain of you, fucking into you deeper, watching you cum on him before he allows himself the same release. His fingers ease up on your clit when your body begins to twitch, when you keep repeating that you canβt take it anymore, but his cock still drives into your sensitive pussy over and over again.
βGonna cum so deep in you,β he says, voice low and rough around the edges, laced with raw desire and the utmost passion.
He moves his hand from in between your thighs and uses it to spread your cheeks to watch the way your soaking pussy swallows him whole. The sight alone can have him cumming but when he looks up at you, he knows heβs done for.
Your eyes are on him, half-lidded and dazed while tears stain your cheeks. Your mouth is hanging open, lingering whimpers falling out, your lips swollen and pigmented from his harsh kisses. Drool drips from your chin, running down your neck and pooling in the dip of your chest where your breasts bounce with each hard thrust.
βF-fuck, you feel so g-good,β he stutters, his hips doing the same, his pace becoming frantic and unsteady.
With a few more thrusts heβs burying himself to the hilt and spilling his seed inside of you. Long, thick ropes of warm cum flood your pussy, spurting out from his tip against your cervix with every pulse of his cock, coating your walls in his release, leaking out with nothing else will fit. His cock slides in and out ever so slowly, letting every last drop fall inside of your greedy pussy, making sure to push it deeper inside of you.
Simon collapses on the bed beside you, even more exhausted and battered than before, but now feeling blissful after being with his wife. You roll over, sluggish and tired, just to place your body on top of his. His arms wrap around you, pulling you in, caging you against his sweaty skin and beefy body. He places a soft kiss to your forehead when you get comfortable on his chest, and he does it again, and again until he can hear your breathing even out and those soft sounds you make that you swear arenβt snores.
English is not my native tongue, so bear with me if some sentences sound a bit strange because of translation. Sorry in advance!
CW: Blood, unhealthy attachment to the tormentor, detailed descriptions of violence, 18+
***
A bitter taste filled your mouth. As if blood had mixed with acid and was now eating away at the sensitive palate and tongue. But that was just your own saliva. Fear had sharpened every sensation to its limit, and you hated it. It hurt too much. Your body was like one giant exposed wire; when claws plunged into it, agony sparked across your skin. And it was impossible to get used to. You had tried everything: biting your tongue to replace one pain with another, trying to think of something else, screaming and raging, sobbing. But of course, when skillful male fingers plucked the next "instrument" from the deep box, all the mental walls you'd built crumbled. Only horror remained, choking you, making you tremble. And the involuntary muscle contractions only heightened the sensitivity.
You were far from the first he had tortured, yet still, with feigned interest, he would ask, "Does it hurt? How does it feel?" So your greatest desire was to shed all emotions β anything, just not to feel your flesh being cut by a scalpel or a knife.
By the third show, your hands had come loose; there was no restraining mechanism left. The world spun and blurred, your heart was leaping from your chest, and no wound concerned you anymore. It was terrifying to imagine what dose of the drug they had administered while you slept, yet it... was saving you? Your body was burning, but it wasn't unpleasant; rather the opposite. You felt a perverse pleasure. Only your subconscious sounded the alarm, trying to remind you β this wasn't normal. You shouldn't be letting out languid sighs from nails driven into your hands, or feeling your lower abdomen stir from the heat of a blowtorch. Something important inside was breaking.
Your brain seemed to begin melting, gradually flowing out of you along with the blood and tears. You felt suffocated to the point of nausea, but your limbs were so heavy that moving seemed a greater torture than the shots from the air pistol. The cable around your neck was the only thing keeping you upright, not slumped on the floor. And it, too, was slowly severing your thread of life with every exhale.
"Enough. I'm losing my mind. This is my death, isn't it? I don't understand anything. I just... want it to stop." Thoughts, in a drug-induced delirium, bounced in your head like rabbits, tangling into each other.
And then, abruptly, it all ended. Your body collapsed onto the floor. The world went dark, as if all the capillaries in your single eye had burst and you'd gone blind. Finally, it was quiet and calm. No heartbeat, no loudly whirring computer, no shots, and no gentle voice β the very cause of all the suffering.
***
A crackling, like grasshopper legs rubbing together. Something soft and silken brushed against your feet. Grass? Your eyelids were heavy, making it impossible to be sure. The situation reminded you of resting under a tree in summer, as if you had simply fallen asleep long ago. The slightly hard but cool earth soothed your flesh, and a warm breeze caressed your neck. All the madness was just a strange dream, and you were safe.
"Little Star? Hmm, I thought you moved." A man's voice, raspy, sounded right beside you, and your left ear was washed with intense heat.
The crackling grew louder. It now resembled the crunching of bones. With every second, more vivid tactile sensations returned to every cell of your body. The grass warmed your ankles with a suspicious intensity, and the ground's surface now felt more like stiff fabric. You needed to wake up.
A familiar ceiling, gray, scarred with cracks in places. Flickering lights that eventually made you see flashing dots before your eye. This was your cell. Simultaneous with this realization, a wave of pain from dozens of wounds of varying depths surged through your body. Your head was so heavy, as if instead of thoughts and memories, there was a pile of stones inside, forcibly pulling it toward the pillow. You would have painfully curled into a whimpering ball, but something heavy prevented you from moving the left side of your torso.
"Oh, so you really are awake!" Someone on the left side shifted, relieving your body of the weight.
The satisfied face of a man appeared before your eyes, his amber irises glinting in the dim lamp light. Fox. Yes, you would never forget his eyes, and now he gazed with calm satisfaction. As if he had finally received something long-awaited.
Fear, like a bubbling siren, echoed through your head and trembled through your body as a shiver. Nothing was over. You were still in slavery, a powerless doll. And if the master was here, nothing good could be expected.
"Easy now, easy. Otherwise, the stitches will split. Paying for another operation would be such a pity," Fox drawled, masking the threat in a honeyed tone. He had immediately noticed the panic in your gaze and the quickening breath preceding a hysterical fit. His fingers, tipped with beast-like claws, rested on your exposed stomach. A long seam split the skin from your pelvis to your navel. Such things last a lifetime.
"H-how did I survive? I remember s-slitting my stomach with the knife..." Your lips struggled to exhale the words. Voicing aloud the madness that had occurred was far heavier than thinking about it.
It seemed your sanity had finally deserted you at the moment the nails 'came alive' under your skin, yet your consciousness had, with devilish precision, engraved what happened next. A lump of sobs rose faster and faster in your throat the more vividly the scene played in your headβyour own hands raising the knife. It was as frightening as the physical torture.
"Did you know that for enough money, doctors are willing to perform any miracle? Though your luck played a part too. How do they say it... 'born under a lucky star,' right?"
His barking laugh echoed through the room, as if you'd asked something utterly foolish.
"But why?"
"I..." Fox paused slightly, clearly choosing his words. "Decided you don't belong to the chat, and we'll play the games I want. So now, instead of streams, we'll be spending time together."
Something in that last phrase made you flinch. Deep down, a hope had smoldered that the hell was over. But you had seen his smile, seen his heavy breathing as tears streamed down your face, seen how meticulously he chose lewd lingerie for you to stream in. This creature was a sadist to the marrow of his bones, and a good ending was impossible.
Yet now, instead of fear, a strange serenity spread through your body. Perhaps it was the resignation to utter helplessness, or perhaps the drugs hadn't fully released you. With each new 'show,' an idea had been embroidered in red thread in your mind: it wasn't the tormentor's fault. The chat devised the punishments; he was merely their executor. Pathetic, wasn't it? Your imagination played a cruel trick, searching for care and tenderness where there was none, seeking solace. Unfortunately, the mind is built to choose the easy path, not the right one. It was easier to think he was just a broken person who, like you, had no choice. You wanted to humanize him. Everyone survives as they can, and you were no exception. If believing this made the scars ache less, then you had to use that opportunity.
"Oh, looks like business won't wait. Sweetheart, don't miss me too much," his fingers burrowed into your hair and massaged your scalp with a tenderness as if you were an obedient puppy.
When Fox stood up, it instantly grew much colder. Something warm and ticklish slid off your feet. It turned out that what you'd deliriously mistaken for grass was his tail.
I was wondering can you write a fic where ray and Mc have casual intimacy? Nothing NSFW but just like cuddling on a movie night or something like that? Please and thank you.
Deep Cleansing
[ Ray x GN! Reader]
[Thereβs suggestive jokes and such, but other than that enjoy a very wholesome (with a side of angst) fic of Ray and MC having a bath.]
The hues of the afternoon bleed warmth into the living room. A pleasant feeling trickled down your spine as a shadow swallowed the room, soft footfalls sounding on the balcony.
Ray had arrived home at the exact same time for the past three days.
Pest control was a passive activityβ the Aliens had been subdued to a certain extent where remaining heroes could handle it themselves. All thanks to Ray clearing them out, the leftover surge of extraterrestrial life was now reduced to a handful of twitching insects.
βSame time again.β You whispered, feigning stealth as you look through the cracks of your pillow fort sanctioned on the couch.
βNo, I lost my streak. My needy juniors have barely gotten the hang of it. Iβm five minutes late.β Ray sighs, moving forward to begin peeling layers of pillows and blankets stacked around you.
Freed from your self inflicted lair of solitude, Rayβs hardened stare melts completely once he catches full sight of you, curled up like a cat in blissful ignorance.
You smile, mirroring the relief on his face.
βYou make it sound like an average 9-5. When are those juniors of yours going to take the mantle so I can have you all to myself?β
He chuckles and swoops you into his arms, lips drawn towards the crook of your neck. You find your hands reaching up to his collarbone, fingers resting in the dips below his neck.
βYou smell good.β You muse, hand reaching up to unfurl Rayβs ponytail. He stays silent as you begin to thread your fingers through his hair, the proximity making you think of how he could probably hear your thoughts easier than ever.
βDoes it turn you on that much?β He taunts, his laughter resounding from deep within his chest, warm and lazy.
βhmmmβ¦? Itβs very comforting. No one else that smells like this should smell thisβ¦ Good.β Slinking off of him, Ray holds you close to look at you, studying your face.
βSo youβre saying I should never batheβ¦ like ever?β Ray parrots you, earning a light slap to his chest as you whine and try to wiggle free from his grasp but to no avail.
βTchβ¦ No way, you probably stink to everyone else. Youβve just got powers that make your smell attractive, but you suck at it because iβm the only one it works on.β
βOooohhh so youβre saying I should mark my territory? Like a wolf?β
βNo! Donβt PEE on me!! Away with you, beast!β You begin to struggle even more now, comically evil laughter coming from Ray as he chains you to his chest with muscular arms, firm and unrelenting.
You know your fate is sealed when Ray begins to walk out of the living room with you in tow, gently placing you in the bathroom with an exaggerated sigh. He looks down at you, dark pupils boring into yours. When you lose the unofficial staring contest and blink, he looks at the floor and insists on sighing loudly again.
βWhaaat?β You drawl, already knowing what heβs about to ask.
βThis suit is just so form fitting and tight. I can barely undress myselfβ¦β
Before you open your mouth to respond, his chest window catches your eye, and you look back up at him to see his knowing smirk.
Giving your own exaggerated sigh, you begin to peel off his suit for him, purposefully pulling at his chest window at least once to see the fabric snap back onto his sweat pearled skin. Oh God, you needed to be neutered.
As clothes piled up next to the bath, you turned on the shower to clean yourself and Ray before you two could properly relax.
---
The water sways gently as you sit down between Rayβs legs, the both of you bare and heavy as you feel your muscles melt into the heat of the bath.
βAre you always calling it quits at 5 because you canβt live without this?β
You teased as you lay on Rayβs chest, his breathing slowing as his head lulls back.
βNo, youβre just very forgetful, so I thought improving our routine would help.β
You canβt tell if Ray is smiling or not, but you feel the steady pump of his headbeat against the back of your head thrum harder for just a moment.
Maybe leaving the apartment during his work earlier this week was a bad idea, but now heβs making it seem like it was even worse for you to flood the bathroom to distract him as much as possible while you ran. Fear tickled at your stomach as you tried to make peace with that thought. You couldnβt possibly do it again, not when heβs even more alert now.
You hum after a pause of silence, feeling sleepy from the warmth and the constant thrum of the bathrooms fan. Ray lifts his arms, trying to pull you in further as physically possible.
Thereβs a tenderness about his touch, his embrace warm and quick to overwhelm as if you were buried under a fluffy blanket fresh from the dryer.
You donβt know if itβs bad that Ray doesnβt even seem overly displeased with what you did, and perhaps he doesnβt even see your escape attempt as something worth getting mad over.
You smile warily, looking down as you see his shadow cast onto the bathtub, swallowing your own like a cold blanket.
Iβll start answering your questions soon, guys. But for now... I realized I never posted THIS on Tumblr.
This art is about a year old and was drawn way BEFORE the novel was created, which is why Miroβs hair looks a bit different here. The theme was basically 'what if he ended up in Stradeβs basement'.
!please keep in mind most things i write are with gn or fem reader!
Werewolf
NEEDY
β needy bf headcanons. (smut)
WOULD YOU STILL LOVE ME IF I WAS A WORM WEREWOLF?
β exactly as the title suggests. (fluff)
TEASING TOUCH
β you tease your submissive boyfriend 'till he breaks. (smut)
FIRST TIME
β first time with your boyfriend <3 (smut obv)
SUBMIT
β your submissive boyfriend goes into heat and you're the only cure (smut)
Mine.
β your possesive boyfriend makes it clear that you are his.
01. WRITE IT ON MY NECK, WHY DON'T YA? (smut)
02. BABY, I'M YOURS (fluff)
BEFORE I HUNT YOU DOWN
β Werewolf bf gets jealous. Yeah. (smut)
DID I MAKE YOU SCREAM?
β asking your werewolf bf to wear a ghostface mask and chase you around the house, gives you a lot more than what you asked for. not that youβre complaining anyways. (smut)
β sending a pic of yourself in a lingerie to your boyfriend who was at work, was a mistake. surprising him with one in his favorite color was another one. (smut)
BEFORE I HUNT YOU DOWN
β But Vampire bf? oh. he gets possessive. (smut)
