Lover Girl

|she/her |23| Hyperfixatiating on a milion different things at once Request are open!!!!!!!!

[peterparkerwashere]

How I feel after waking up to read smut at the butt crack of dawn

[glmregrlz]

Control

And the thing is, when Mark is fucking you into the mattress, drool dripping from the corner of your slack mouth and your eyes rolled back into your head, all he's thinking about is how just a few minutes earlier you were trying to convince him to "let himself lose control."

"I'm not gonna break, Mark," you'd pouted, giving him those big, pleading eyes. He'd just smiled down at you and nodded, then kissed you and gave you what you thought you wanted.

He knows though, if he actually let go, let himself lose control, he'd kill you or at the very least leave you permanently injured. There's something sick about it that thrills him. The way you feel around his cock makes him want to give into the Viltrumite part of his brain that's telling him if you're worthy of his seed, you'll survive what it takes to get it. He's ashamed of it and will never let those thoughts see the light of day, but he can't ignore them. You begging for him makes it even more difficult to keep that grip on his self control.

It's easy to see how much you trust him when you're gushing around his dick as it rocks in and out of you, Mark's hands pressing bruises into your waist and teeth leaving angry red patches on your neck.

So yeah, he could break you with one thrust- even less than that.

But he'd never lose control, not with you.

[myliteralhyperfixations19]

Punish Me Gently

18+ | Fluff | Established relationship | Spanking  | Smut

wc: 1374

a/n: Kinktober day 4 ! Please keep sending in requests! Enjoy!

The humid Tokyo night pressed against the windows of your modest apartment. Inside, the air conditioner hummed, fighting a losing battle against the sticky heat and the tension crackling between you and the man lounging on the worn leather couch. Toji Fushiguro, your infuriatingly attractive boyfriend, had one thick arm draped over the back of the couch, a lazy smirk playing on his lips as he watched you try and fail to wrestle the stubborn lid off a jar of pickles.

“Need a hand, princess?” he drawled, voice rough like gravel under tires. His eyes, sharp and dark even in the dim light, traced the curve of your back where your oversized, soft cotton t-shirt had ridden up, revealing the swell of your hips above your sleep shorts. He’d been teasing you all evening, ever since you’d complained about the heat and he’d suggested, with a wolfish grin, that maybe you were wearing too many clothes.

You huffed, cheeks flushing. “I’ve got it, caveman. Just… stuck.” You braced the jar against your ample stomach, twisting with all your might. “Stupid jar.”

Toji chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated in your own chest as he unfolded himself from the couch. He closed the distance in two strides, his presence suddenly overwhelming the small kitchenette. 

“Told ya,” he murmured, his large, calloused hand covering yours on the lid. His other hand settled possessively on your hip, his thumb rubbing slow, deliberate circles just above the waistband of your shorts. His touch was electric. “Strength ain’t always about brute force, sweetheart. Sometimes it’s about leverage.” With a casual flick of his wrist, the lid popped off with a satisfying noise. He didn’t move his hand from yours. “See?”

“Show-off,” you muttered, trying to ignore the way your pulse hammered against your ribs. His thumb kept moving, that slow, maddening circle. You could feel the heat radiating from him.

“Just efficient,” he countered, leaning down. His lips brushed the shell of your ear, his breath hot. “Like how efficiently you drive me crazy in those little shorts.” His free hand slid from your hip, tracing a slow path down the curve of your ass, giving the generous flesh a deliberate, appreciative squeeze. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

You shivered, leaning back slightly into his touch. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Fushiguro.”

“Good.” His voice dropped, losing its teasing edge, turning smoky and dark. “Because I’ve been thinkin’.” His hand on your ass stopped squeezing and flattened, applying a gentle, insistent pressure. “Thinkin’ about how damn pretty your skin would look right about… here.” He punctuated his words with a sharp, stinging smack delivered squarely to the plump swell of your left cheek.

The sound was loud in the quiet apartment. A gasp tore from your lips, more surprise than pain, followed instantly by a flood of heat that had nothing to do with the weather. It bloomed where his palm had connected, spreading warmth through your core. Your grip tightened on the counter edge.

“Toji!” you protested, though it lacked conviction. Your body was already arching subtly towards him, betraying you.

“Hmm?” He feigned innocence, his hand rubbing the spot he’d just struck, soothing the slight sting even as his fingers dipped dangerously low, teasing the hem of your shorts. “Somethin’ wrong, princess? Didn’t like that?” He leaned in again, his lips grazing your neck this time. “Liar. I can feel you shakin’. Can smell how wet you’re gettin’ for me.”

You swallowed hard. He wasn’t wrong. The initial shock had melted into a delicious thrum of arousal, low and insistent. “You’re… presumptuous.”

He chuckled again, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Nah. Just observant.” His hand lifted, hovering. “And I observe you blushin’ real pretty right down to your tits every time I put my hands on this sweet ass.” Smack! Another sharp, deliberate blow landed on the other cheek. Harder this time. The impact jolted you forward slightly, a small, breathy moan escaping before you could stop it. The sting was bright, immediate, followed by that same deep, spreading heat. He didn’t rub it this time. He let the sensation linger, sharp and demanding your attention.

“That’s it,” he growled, approval thick in his voice. His hand settled possessively on the curve, fingers splayed, kneading the flesh he’d just marked. “Let me hear you. Sound so fuckin’ good when you’re takin’ it.” His other hand abandoned the jar entirely, sliding around your waist to pull you flush against him. You could feel the hard line of his arousal pressing against your lower back, undeniable proof of the effect this was having on him too.

“Why?” you breathed, turning your head slightly to look at him over your shoulder. His eyes were dark pools, pupils blown wide with desire, fixed intently on the reddening skin visible above your shorts. “Why do you like… this?”

He met your gaze, his smirk softening into something more intense, almost possessive. “Because it’s yours,” he stated simply, his voice rough. “This gorgeous, soft, strong body. Mine to touch. Mine to enjoy.” His hand flexed on your ass, another possessive squeeze. “Mine to mark.” Smack! This one landed lower, right where cheek met thigh, the sound sharper, the bite of pain deeper. You cried out, your knees buckling slightly. Toji’s arm around your waist tightened instantly, holding you up, pulling you harder against him. “Mine to make feel good,” he finished, his lips finding the sensitive spot beneath your ear. “Feel that? How hot your skin is under my hand? How you’re pushin’ back against me, beggin’ for more?” He punctuated the question with two rapid, stinging smacks in quick succession on the same spot, the force making you gasp and writhe against him, a confusing mix of protest and desperate need.

“T-Toji!” you whimpered, the sharp sensations blurring the line between pain and pleasure, each smack sending jolts straight to your core. Your shorts felt impossibly tight, dampness soaking through the thin cotton.

“Shhh,” he soothed, his voice a dark caress. His punishing hand gentled, rubbing firm, deep circles over the heated, smarting flesh, spreading the warmth, easing the sting into a deep, satisfying throb. His other hand slid down from your waist, slipping boldly beneath the waistband of your shorts and underwear in one smooth motion. His calloused fingers found your slick heat instantly. “Fuck, you’re soaked, baby,” he groaned against your neck, his fingers sliding through your folds with agonizing slowness. “All this from my hand on your ass? Such a greedy little thing.”

“S-Shut up,” you managed, arching into his touch as his fingers found your clit, circling it with maddening pressure. “Just… don’t stop.”

He nipped at your earlobe. “Wasn’t plannin’ on it.” Smack! Another sharp blow landed, this time squarely on the undercurve of your ass, just as his thumb pressed hard against your clit. The dual assault, the sharp sting radiating outwards and the intense pressure concentrated at your core  made you cry out, your vision blurring for a second. You pushed your hips back against his hand, seeking more of the delicious friction, more of the sharp, grounding pain.

“That’s it,” Toji growled, his voice thick with lust. He alternated now  a firm, stinging smack that made you gasp and clench around his probing fingers, followed by deep, kneading rubs that soothed the sting into a deep, pleasurable ache, all while his fingers worked expertly between your legs, building the pressure inside you relentlessly. His rhythm was hypnotic, brutal, and utterly intoxicating. “ Look so pretty gettin’ your ass painted red for me. My perfect girl.” His fingers plunged inside you, curling just right, and you nearly screamed, your legs trembling violently.

“Toji! I’m… I’m gonna…” The coil inside you tightened unbearably, the sharp bursts of pain from his palm only heightening the exquisite tension coiling in your belly.

“Yeah?” he rasped, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. He delivered three rapid, sharp smacks in succession the force driving you forward onto your tiptoes, his fingers pistoning inside you, his thumb grinding on your clit. “C’mon then. Let go. Show me how much you love my hand on your ass.” His voice was a guttural command, impossible to resist.

The final smack, combined with the relentless pressure of his fingers, shattered you. A raw, keening cry tore from your throat as the orgasm ripped through you, violent stars danced behind your eyelids. Your body convulsed, clenching desperately around his fingers, your knees giving way completely. Toji held you upright effortlessly, his arm a steel band around your waist, his hand still possessively cupping your throbbing, heated ass as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, each aftershock mingling with the deep, satisfying ache he’d left behind.

He held you through it, murmuring low, filthy praise against your sweat-dampened hair – “Good girl… fuck, look at you… took it so fuckin’ perfect…” – until the tremors subsided, leaving you boneless and panting, leaning heavily against him. Slowly, gently, he withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips and sucking them clean with a low groan of satisfaction that sent another shiver through you.

He turned you carefully in his arms, his gaze raking over your flushed face, your kiss-swollen lips, your eyes still dazed with pleasure. His own expression was fierce, possessive, satisfied. He traced a fingertip along your heated cheekbone, then down to brush your lower lip.

“Still think I was just showin’ off with the jar, princess?” he asked, his voice a low rumble, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. His hand slid down to gently squeeze the ass cheek he’d spent the last several minutes thoroughly warming, making you gasp softly at the tender sensitivity. The possessive gesture sent a fresh, needy pulse through your spent body.

You managed a weak glare, though your lips twitched upwards. “Maybe. Still a caveman.”

He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a deep, claiming kiss that tasted like salt, sweat, and him. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with renewed heat. “Caveman’s got you right where he wants you,” he murmured, his thumb rubbing circles on the sensitive skin of your ass again. “And he ain’t nearly done with this perfect ass yet. Bedroom. Now.” The command was soft, but brooked no argument. The night, and the delicious sting, was far from over.

[myliteralhyperfixations19]

Soft Hands, Sharp Teeth

18+ | Established relationship  | smut | 

wc: 1498

a/n: This was so fun to write!! As yall can see this one definitely got away from me! No lie this was sooooooo hot to write! thank you to the wonderful @coochieconvent for the inspiration! Please send more requests yall! I'll write anything!  Soo Enjoyyyyyyyy or suffer!

The kitchen timer beeped twice—once for the rice, once for the salmon glazed in honey and soy. You sang along to the song playing through your speaker, hips swaying slightly as you stirred the pot of miso soup.

The spatula clattered against the pan when his calloused fingers wrapped around the back of your neck sudden, possessive, unmistakable. You hadn’t even heard him come in over the music, but now his scent motor oil, sweat, something faintly metallic flooded your senses as he turned your face toward him. His mouth crashed into yours before you could gasp, tongue sliding deep like he’d been thinking about this since he left the house that morning. Your knees wobbled; the kitchen counter dug into your hip as you arched into him, dinner forgotten.  

"Fuck’s got you dancing in here like you ain’t expectin’ me?" Toji murmured against your lips, thumb brushing your jaw. His other hand slid down your waist, squeezing hard enough to bruise. 

You melted into him, fingers curling into the fabric of his work shirt. But the way his tongue slid against yours, possessive and unhurried, made it clear exactly where his focus was now. When he finally pulled back, your lips tingled.

 “Dinner’s almost ready,” you managed, though your voice came out embarrassingly breathless.

 “Forget dinner,” he said, voice rough. Toji’s thumb brushed your bottom lip, his gaze darkening as he watched the way your chest rose and fell. His grip on your waist tightened, and then he was pulling you out of the kitchen.

The bedroom door hit the wall with a thud, Toji kicking it shut behind you both without breaking stride. He didn’t bother with the light as he pushed you onto the mattress. You barely had time to register the cool sheets against your back before his hands were on you again, peeling your clothes off with a single minded efficiency that made your pulse stutter. His shirt followed, tossed somewhere near the dresser, and then his weight pressed you down, his mouth hot against your throat. 

“Been thinkin’ about this all fuckin’ day,” he growled, teeth grazing your neck.

You gasped when his hand slid between your thighs, fingers stroking through your slick with a pleased hum. “This is just for me?” he murmured, dragging his fingertips higher, circling your clit just enough to make your hips jerk. You nodded, clutching at his shoulders as he pressed lazy kisses across your chest.

“Good girl.” His praise sent a shiver down your spine, but it was nothing compared to the way he hooked your leg over his arm and pushed inside without warning, the stretch making you arch off the bed.

“Fuck, you look so pretty baby,” he groaned, rolling his hips in a slow, filthy grind that had you seeing stars. You moaned, nails scraping down his back as he set a punishing pace, each thrust knocking the air from your lungs. He didn’t let up, one hand fisting in the sheets beside your head while the other gripped your hip hard enough to bruise.

When he flipped you onto your stomach without pulling out, you barely had time to brace yourself before he was draping over your back, his chest slick with sweat against your spine. 

“Keep that ass up for me, baby,” he ordered, nipping at your earlobe, but the pleasure was already coiling too tight, your arms giving out as you sank into the mattress with a broken moan. Toji followed without hesitation, his hips flush against yours as he ground deep, his breath hot against your ear. 

“Look at you,” he panted, fingers sliding into your mouth to tilt your head back. “Takin’ me so pretty.”

His fingers curled against your tongue, the salt of his skin mingling with your own taste as your moans vibrated against his knuckles. You could feel the way his rhythm stuttered, his thrusts losing their precision as his hips snapped forward in ragged, uneven rolls chasing it now, chasing that peak with you trembling beneath him. The wet slap of skin filled the room, punctuated by Toji’s choked curses, the way his breath hitched when your walls fluttered around him.

 "That’s it my good girl," he rasped, the words rough against the shell of your ear. "C’mon, give it to me baby."

You came with a loud cry, your spine bowing as pleasure crashed over you in waves, your fingers clawing at the sheets. Toji didn’t let up, fucking you through it with sharp, shallow thrusts until your oversensitivity had you whining, squirming under his weight. He chuckled, dark and satisfied, before finally pulling out with a grunt, flipping you onto your back in one fluid motion. Your legs fell open instinctively, your chest heaving as he loomed over you, his cock glistening between your thighs.

 "Look at you," he murmured, thumb swiping through your slick before bringing it to his mouth with a hum. "So Fuckin’ perfect."

His hands slid under your knees, pushing them up toward your chest as he lined himself up again, the blunt head of his cock nudging against your entrance. You gasped at the stretch, still sensitive, but the way his gaze burned into you had your hips tilting up in silent invitation. Toji didn’t need more than that. He sank into you with a groan, his pace quicker this time, less controlled. The bedframe rocked against the wall with every snap of his hips, the sound drowned out by your combined panting.

He caught your wrists, pinning them above your head as he leaned down, his mouth sloppy against yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue, could feel the way his muscles trembled with restraint. Your breath hitched as one his hands went to rub your clit again.

 "Gonna enjoy you," he muttered between kisses, his hips stuttering. "Wanna see just how good I can make you feel." The promise sent a fresh pulse of heat through you, your walls clenching around him as he cursed, his rhythm faltering.

Your thighs trembled around his waist, toes curling as Toji drove into you with relentless precision, each thrust hitting that sweet spot deep inside until your vision blurred at the edges. His grip on your wrists tightened, calloused fingers pressing into your pulse points as he loomed over you, sweat dripping from his brow onto your collarbone. Your body felt boneless, oversensitive in the best way, every nerve alight with the aftershocks of your climax still rippling through you. His thumb stroked the inside of your wrist, a sweet tenderness among the rough drag of his hips against yours, the wet slap of skin echoing in the hazy quiet of the room.

He slowed then, almost to a stop, just grinding deep, his cock twitching inside you as he let out a shuddering breath. “Gonna make it last,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, but the way his jaw clenched betrayed how close he was. His free hand slid down your side, cupping your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple in soft lazy circles. 

“That’s it,” he murmured, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip and the sweet spot of your neck. “I know you can take it baby.” His hips rolled again, deep and slow, and you gasped, nails scraping against his forearm as pleasure coiled tight in your belly. He kissed you then, messy and open-mouthed, swallowing your moans as his pace quickened, the bedframe creaking beneath you.His breath hitched when you clenched around him a reflex, not a tease but the way his fingers dug into your hips told you he wasn’t complaining. 

“Fuck,” he gritted out, forehead dropping to yours as his thrusts lost their rhythm, turning jerky and desperate. “You gonna come again?” The question was half-disbelief, half-challenge, and you whimpered, nodding against his shoulder as his thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles that had your back arching off the mattress.

Toji didn’t give you time to adjust. He pinned your wrists harder against the pillow, his mouth sloppy against your jaw as he fucked into you with short, punishing strokes, the sound of skin slapping skin drowning out your whimpers.

“Yeah, there you go,” he rasped, teeth scraping your pulse point. “Let me feel it.” And you did, your climax crashing over you like a wave, your vision whiting out as your body seized around him, pulling a ragged groan from his chest.

He followed you over the edge with a curse, his hips stuttering as he buried himself to the hilt, his release pulsing hot inside you. 

You laughed, weak and breathless, your legs sliding off his waist to sprawl bonelessly against the sheets. Toji chuckled, rolling onto his side and dragging you with him, your head against his chest as his arm curled possessively around you. 

 “Dinner’s cold,” you murmured, tilting your head up to glance at him.  

Toji just laughed, low and rough, when you groaned. "Guess we orderin’ takeout tonight."  

[myliteralhyperfixations19]

My Baby, My Good Girl

18+ | Fluff | Established relationship  | smut |

wc: 1860

a/n:  I had a very excited dream about my bf and he reminds me of spencer so much so I wrote this sexy masterpiece! Enjoyyyyyyyy or suffer! Send more requests. Let me know what you guys think about this one! I've also got a surprise for my next story!!!! 

The last time Spencer Reid saw his reflection, it was in the grimy bathroom mirror of a roadside motel in Nebraska, the fluorescent light flickering overhead as he scrubbed dried blood from under his fingernails. He'd stared at his own hollowed out eyes, counting the hours since he’d slept, the days since he’d touched you. The numbers didn’t matter. The only equation that mattered was the distance between his tired body and the warmth of your body, the way your hips fit against his palms like they’d been measured just for him. Now, the front door clicks shut behind him, and the familiar scent of your home hits him like a physical relief. He drops his go-bag by the door, toeing off his shoes with a sigh.

 "Baby?" His voice is rough, uneven. He doesn’t bother hiding the exhaustion or the want.

You’re curled up on the couch in one of his old blankets, a bowl of popcorn balanced on your thighs. When you turn to look at him, your smile is soft and knowing.

 "Took you long enough," you murmur, but there’s no bite to it, just the quiet joy of him being here, finally.

Spencer doesn’t answer. He crosses the room in three long strides, knees hitting the couch as he crowds over you, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other sliding the popcorn bowl onto the coffee table without breaking eye contact. His nose brushes yours, and for a second, he just breathes you in. Then his mouth is on yours, hungry, insistent, his tongue sliding against your bottom lip like he’s trying to memorize the taste of you all over again. Your hands come up instantly, fingers curling into the fabric of his wrinkled button-down as Spencer kisses you like he’s trying to make up for every second he was gone. All you can focus on is the way his teeth graze your lip just shy of rough before he pulls back just enough to murmur, missed you, against your mouth. His voice is wrecked, the kind of raw that tells you he hasn’t slept in days, hasn’t let himself think about anything but the case until this moment.

“Show me,” you whisper, and feel the shudder that rolls through him, the way his grip on your neck tightens just enough to make your breath catch. He doesn’t need to be told twice. One hand slides under your sweater,palm warm against your ribs as he pushes the fabric up. His thumb brushes the delicate skin around your nipple, deliberate, teasing, and you arch into it with a quiet sigh.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, dragging his lips down your throat. “My baby, all soft and waiting for me.” The words curl low in your belly, the possessiveness in them making your toes curl against the couch cushions. He nuzzles the swell of your breast, before dragging his tongue over one peaked nipple. You gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, and he laughs against your skin, the sound vibrating through you. 

“That’s it,” he coaxes, mouthing at the other. “Let me hear you.”

Spencer’s hands are everywhere, mapping the curves he’s spent weeks dreaming about, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he stops touching you. His palm skims your thigh, pushing the hem of your shorts up until his fingers slide under the lace of your panties. You’re already wet, and he groans when he feels it, pressing two fingers against your clit in slow, firm circles. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, watching your face as your hips jerk. “You thought about me too, huh?”

Your breath hitches when his fingers slip lower, teasing your entrance before pushing in with a slow, deliberate curl that has you gasping his name into the crook of his neck. Spencer’s laugh is dark, pleased, his free hand guiding your thigh over his hip so he can press closer, the hard line of his cock straining against his slacks. 

“Every night,” he admits roughly, lips brushing your temple as his fingers work you open. “Every fucking night, baby, I’d close my eyes and see you like this.” His thumb circles your clit again, and you whimper, arching into the touch.

He pauses to suck a bruise just on to the pulse point on your neck, possessive, before dragging his tongue lower, nudging your shorts down with his chin. The first press of his mouth against your inner thigh makes you squirm, but his grip tightens, holding you still. 

“Spence—” you start, but the protest dies when he glances up, eyes blown dark under his lashes. “Hush,” he murmurs, kissing and biting the crease of your thigh. “Let me take care of you.”

Then his tongue is on you, licking a slow, filthy stripe from your entrance to your clit, and your hips jerk helplessly against his mouth. He groans, the vibration making your toes curl, and you barely recognize the noise that tears from your throat. Spencer doesn’t let up, alternating between broad, wet strokes and sharp, focused flicks that have your thighs trembling. One hand pins your hip to the couch while the other strokes your inner thigh, soothing, even as his tongue works you closer to the edge.

“God, you taste perfect,” he rasps against you, lips slick with you. His fingers replace his mouth, thrusting deep as his tongue circles your clit, and the dual sensation pulls a ragged cry from you. You tug at his hair, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow just fucks you with his fingers in time with the relentless swirl of his tongue until your back bows off the couch, pleasure coming so sharply it whites out your vision.

When you come back to yourself, Spencer’s lips are pressed to your inner thigh, his breath hot against your damp skin as he murmurs, “Good girl,” like it’s a prayer. 

His fingers slide out of you slowly, and you whimper at the loss, but he’s already moving, stripping off his shirt with impatient hands. The sight of him all lean muscle makes your mouth water. He catches you looking and smirks, that cocky tilt of his lips you love, before yanking you forward by the hips until you’re straddling him, the rough fabric of his slacks against your bare thighs.

“My turn,” you breathe, palms sliding up his chest to frame his face. He lets you kiss him, lets you lick into his mouth until he groans, hands tightening on your waist. You can taste yourself on his tongue, salty and sweet, and the thought sends a fresh wave of heat between your legs. His cock strains against his pants, and you grind down instinctively, drawing a choked noise from him. 

“Fuck,” he gasps, hips jerking up. “Baby, please—”

You don’t make him beg. Your fingers make quick work of his belt, his zipper, and then he’s free, thick and flushed in your hand. His head drops back against the couch as you stroke him, thumb swiping over the slickness at the tip. 

“Look at you,” you echo his earlier words, squeezing just enough to make him shudder. “All worked up just for me.”

Spencer’s laugh is ragged, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples until you arch into his touch.

 “Always for you,” he murmurs, gaze heavy and hot. “Only ever for you my good girl” 

Then he’s guiding you onto him, one hand on your hip, the other gripping himself as you sink down, both of you gasping at the stretch, the heat. His fingers dig into your flesh as you rock against him, slow at first, then faster when he growls, “That’s it, ride me baby,” into your ear.

Spencer's grip on your hips tightens as you move, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin that neither of you will regret tomorrow. The rhythm is slow at first, savoring the way he fills you, but when you clench around him experimentally, his breath stutters against your collarbone. 

"Fuck—" he hisses, hips jerking up to meet yours, and suddenly the pace isn't gentle anymore. His hands guide you, lifting you just enough to drag you back down onto him with a filthy, wet sound that makes your face burn. Spencer's mouth finds yours again, messy and uncoordinated, his tongue sliding against yours as he murmurs nonsense into your lips. "so good, fuck, baby, just like that”

One hand slides up your throat, fingers wrapping around it and giving it a soft squeeze to tilt your head back, exposing your throat to his teeth. He bites just hard enough to make you cry out in pleasure, then soothes the sting with his tongue, his hips never stopping their relentless upward thrusts.His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass, spreading you wider as he angles himself deeper, and the sudden shift has you seeing stars.

 "Spence," you gasp, nails scraping down his shoulders leaving marks down his back, and he groans like you've wounded him, his forehead dropping to yours.

"My beautiful baby look at me," he demands, voice ragged, and when your eyes flutter open, his gaze is sharp with want, pupils swallowing the hazel. "I wanna watch you cum on my dick please."

 The words alone are enough to make your thighs shake, but then he drags a thumb between your bodies, circling your clit with just the right pressure, and you're gone. Your climax crashes over you like a wave, your back arching as you clench around him, his name a broken cry on your lips.

Spencer's hips stutter beneath you as your body milks him through your orgasm, his fingers tightening almost painfully on your waist. But it's a losing battle; the way you flutter around him, has his vision whiting out. He cums with a choked groan, forehead pressed to your neck as he spills inside you, his hips jerking erratically until he's completely spent.

For a long moment, the only sounds are your mingled breaths and the distant dialogue from the forgotten crime drama. Spencer's lips brush a lazy, damp kiss over your racing pulse before he slumps back against the couch, taking you with him  as his arms wrap possessively around your waist. 

The TV flickers, casting shifting shadows across the room as Spencer traces idle patterns down your spine. His other hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together and bringing them to his lips. He kisses your knuckles one by one, then turns your palm up to press a lingering kiss to the center. 

“God I love you”  he mutters against your skin, but makes no move to disentangle himself. You two lie there in complete safety. Before your eyes close he whispers to how much hes missed you,how much he loves you and how he can't wait to spend the rest of his life by your side. 

[myliteralhyperfixations19]

Can we get a list of who youll write for? I love your work girlie

🌸 Who I’ll Write For 🌸

* If you don't see your fav on this list just shoot me a message and I’ll give it a shot

* I write only x reader but any gender or race is totally okay. Also most fix will be plus size x reader unless asked otherwise

🦸‍♂️ DC & Marvel

adrian chase x reader batman x reader

Superman x reader bucky barnes x reader tony stark x reader steve rogers x reader spider-man x reader vigilante x reader

📺 TV Shows & Movies

spencer reid x reader Dean winchester x reader 

Sam winchester x reader steve harrington x reader steve mcgarrett x reader stranger things x reader criminal minds x reader peacemaker x reader arrowverse x reader

🎮 Video Games

call of duty x reader red dead redemption x reader league of legends x reader assassins creed x reader resident evil x reader

🌌 Anime / Manga

Aot x reader chainsaw man x reader jujutsu kaisen x reader

[myliteralhyperfixations19]

A MAN WHO YEARNS IS A MAN WHO EARNS!!

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk

[myliteralhyperfixations19]

Spaces Between Us

warnings:18+ | Angst | Hurt/Comfort

wc:1510

a/n: This is for @reidshairtie. Fulfilling your 2nd Spencer Reid request. I always enjoy writing for spencer! Also this one kind of grew legs and got away from me.  Let me know what you guys think! I am still taking requests! Enjoy! :)

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The silence in the apartment was sharp.

You sat on the couch, arms crossed tightly over your chest, leg bouncing in frustration as Spencer shut the door behind him. He was late like always. And not just physically. Emotionally. Personally. Entirely.

He shrugged off his coat and set down his satchel, not even sparing you a glance. “Rough day.”

You didn’t reply. Not immediately.

Then, you said flatly, “You know what’s rough, Spencer?”

He stilled. You called him by his first name. Your voice wasn’t angry, not yet. It was the kind of calm that meant the volcano was simmering. Ready to blow.

“What’s that?”

“Being the person you supposedly love and not knowing a goddamn thing about your life. Being the “love of your life” and feeling like I’m second to everything”

That got his attention. Slowly, he turned to you.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about your team. you know, the one you spend more time with than you do with me? I’ve never met them. Not one. I’m talking about how you don’t take me out, don’t post a single fucking picture of me, and avoid introducing me to anyone in your work life like I’m some secret shame.”

Spencer’s brows furrowed. “It’s not like that”

“Don’t. Don’t fucking say that. Because it is exactly like that, Spencer.”

“You think I’m ashamed of you? Really?” he snapped, voice sharp. “I don’t post you because it’s dangerous, not because you’re not enough.”

“Don’t twist this into you doing me a favor,” you barked. “You don’t get to play protector and then act like I should be grateful you’ve made me invisible.”

His jaw clenched, anger flashed in his eyes. “You don’t understand what I do.”

“No. I don’t. Because you don’t let me.” You stood up now, voice rising. “You don’t talk to me about your cases. You come home broken and bloody and shut me out like I’m some stranger who doesn’t get to know what’s going on.”

“I’m trying to protect you!” he snapped, the words exploding from his mouth. “Jesus, Y/N, do you think I want you tangled up in this shit? You think I want you meeting people who’ve stared into the eyes of serial killers? Who’ve lost teammates? Who get weekly reminders that love is a vulnerability, not a fucking strength?”

You stared at him, stunned, blinking tears that burned hot and fast. Your face red in anger. 

“So I’m your vulnerability, then? I’m just a soft spot that makes you weak? I'm just some damsel in distress? Fuck you spence!” 

Spencer ran a hand through his hair. “That’s not what I said.”

“You didn’t have to,” you said, voice cracking. “You hide me because you’re scared. But newsflash, Spencer, I’m scared, too. Scared I’m just a body you come home to after you bury yourself in a world I’ll never be allowed into.”

He looked at you like you'd just slapped him.

“You think that little of me?” he said quietly.

“No. I think that little of the way you treat me,” you snapped. “You get to choose this and you’ve chosen to box me into the safest, quietest, most invisible corner of your life.”

“I box you in because I love you!” he shouted, louder than you’d ever heard him. “Do you get that?! Do you even fucking get it?! Every unsub, every stalker, every goddamn nightmare I’ve ever profiled has made me scared shitless that if I'm not careful you’ll be next.”

“I am not your victim! I'm not a victim period!” you yelled back, voice shaking. “You don’t get to make my choices for me! I’m not some glass doll you have to hide away on a shelf to keep whole. I’m a grown woman who can handle herself, who wants to handle herself, with you.”

Spencer’s chest heaved as he turned away, eyes shining with tears he refused to shed. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered. “You don’t know what it’s like to walk into a crime scene and wonder if the next body could be someone you love.”

Your voice turned sharp again. “So what? You’d rather let me sit alone every night wondering if you’re coming back? You think that’s easier for me? You don’t even look at me some nights, Spence. You hold me like I’m a pillow. You kiss me like I’m a routine.”

That gutted him. You saw it in the way he stepped back, like the words physically hurt.

“You don’t think I love you anymore,” he said, voice flat. “Is that what this is?”

“I think you love me in theory,” you spat. “I think you love the idea of me. The version of me that doesn’t inconvenience your fear.”

“That’s not fucking fair.”

“What’s not fair is being in love with someone who doesn’t think I can handle the full weight of who they are. You don’t see me, Spencer. Not really. You see what you want me to be. Someone happy. Someone quiet. Someone who waits for you and never asks too many goddamn questions.”

He finally snapped. “Would you rather I exposed you to it all? The blood? The stories that don’t let me sleep? The guilt I carry when we lose someone? Is that what you want, Y/N? Because I promise you, once you see it, you can’t unsee it.”

“Then show me anyway,” you said, eyes wet and voice steady. “Let me fucking choose. Because I’d rather know the monster you're fighting than be treated like one you’re hiding.”

The silence after that was deafening.

You turned away first, wiping your face, your whole body trembling.

“I shouldn’t have to beg to be seen,” you muttered.

“I see you,” Spencer said, his voice hollow. “I see you so clearly it hurts.”

You looked at him then, your lip quivering. “Then act like it. Because right now? I feel like your dirty secret. And I don’t know how much more of that I can take.”

He stepped toward you slow, like he was afraid you’d vanish if he moved too fast.

“You’re not my secret,” he said. “You’re my everything.”

“Then why don’t you treat me like it?”

“Because everything I love gets taken from me,” he said, finally crying. “And I don’t think I’d survive if it happened to you.”

That did it. Your anger cracked, replaced by something heavier. You reached out and touched his face, feeling the warmth of his tears.

“Spence… You don’t protect people by hiding them. You protect people by loving them fully while you can.”

Hands trembling, he fell into your arms, holding you so tight it was like he needed you to keep breathing.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice wrecked. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I know,” you whispered back. “I’m not asking you to stop being scared. I’m asking you to let me be scared with you.”

He nodded into your shoulder, clinging to you like the tide.

“I’ll introduce you to the team,” he said quietly. “I’ll start bringing you around more. I’ll… I’ll stop hiding. You deserve better than that.”

You held him close, feeling the way his weight melted against yours—soft, vulnerable, real.

“I don’t need fancy. I don’t need perfect. I just need us,” you said into his hair. “Out in the open. As we are.”

You sat together on the edge of the couch for a long time, breathing in sync, tears still fresh on your cheeks.

“I mean it,” he whispered after a minute. “I want them to know about you. Not just know, but meet you. Understand why I come home every night. Why I fight to come home.”

You looked up at him, eyes tired but softer now. “You sure?”

He nodded against your temple. “Yeah. I’ve been a coward… and you’ve been patient. I don’t want to be scared anymore.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him fully, fingers brushing his jaw. “You’re allowed to be scared. But you can’t shut me out and call it love. That’s not how love works. Not for me.”

“I know. I think I was protecting an idea more than a person,” he said. “This idea that I could keep you completely safe if I just compartmentalized well enough. But you’re right. That’s not protection. 

You nodded slowly, heart still raw. “It’s been killing me, Spence. I see the bruises on your body, the ghosts in your eyes… and I’ve had to pretend they don’t exist. Because you didn’t let me in.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, this time stronger. “You should never have felt like you weren’t enough. Or like I was ashamed of you. That’s the furthest thing from the truth.”

“I know that now,” you murmured. “But I need more than words.”

“Then you’ll have more,” he promised.

[myliteralhyperfixations19]

My Baby, My Good Girl

18+ | Fluff | Established relationship  | smut |

wc: 1860

a/n:  I had a very excited dream about my bf and he reminds me of spencer so much so I wrote this sexy masterpiece! Enjoyyyyyyyy or suffer! Send more requests. Let me know what you guys think about this one! I've also got a surprise for my next story!!!! 

The last time Spencer Reid saw his reflection, it was in the grimy bathroom mirror of a roadside motel in Nebraska, the fluorescent light flickering overhead as he scrubbed dried blood from under his fingernails. He'd stared at his own hollowed out eyes, counting the hours since he’d slept, the days since he’d touched you. The numbers didn’t matter. The only equation that mattered was the distance between his tired body and the warmth of your body, the way your hips fit against his palms like they’d been measured just for him. Now, the front door clicks shut behind him, and the familiar scent of your home hits him like a physical relief. He drops his go-bag by the door, toeing off his shoes with a sigh.

 "Baby?" His voice is rough, uneven. He doesn’t bother hiding the exhaustion or the want.

You’re curled up on the couch in one of his old blankets, a bowl of popcorn balanced on your thighs. When you turn to look at him, your smile is soft and knowing.

 "Took you long enough," you murmur, but there’s no bite to it, just the quiet joy of him being here, finally.

Spencer doesn’t answer. He crosses the room in three long strides, knees hitting the couch as he crowds over you, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other sliding the popcorn bowl onto the coffee table without breaking eye contact. His nose brushes yours, and for a second, he just breathes you in. Then his mouth is on yours, hungry, insistent, his tongue sliding against your bottom lip like he’s trying to memorize the taste of you all over again. Your hands come up instantly, fingers curling into the fabric of his wrinkled button-down as Spencer kisses you like he’s trying to make up for every second he was gone. All you can focus on is the way his teeth graze your lip just shy of rough before he pulls back just enough to murmur, missed you, against your mouth. His voice is wrecked, the kind of raw that tells you he hasn’t slept in days, hasn’t let himself think about anything but the case until this moment.

“Show me,” you whisper, and feel the shudder that rolls through him, the way his grip on your neck tightens just enough to make your breath catch. He doesn’t need to be told twice. One hand slides under your sweater,palm warm against your ribs as he pushes the fabric up. His thumb brushes the delicate skin around your nipple, deliberate, teasing, and you arch into it with a quiet sigh.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, dragging his lips down your throat. “My baby, all soft and waiting for me.” The words curl low in your belly, the possessiveness in them making your toes curl against the couch cushions. He nuzzles the swell of your breast, before dragging his tongue over one peaked nipple. You gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, and he laughs against your skin, the sound vibrating through you. 

“That’s it,” he coaxes, mouthing at the other. “Let me hear you.”

Spencer’s hands are everywhere, mapping the curves he’s spent weeks dreaming about, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he stops touching you. His palm skims your thigh, pushing the hem of your shorts up until his fingers slide under the lace of your panties. You’re already wet, and he groans when he feels it, pressing two fingers against your clit in slow, firm circles. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, watching your face as your hips jerk. “You thought about me too, huh?”

Your breath hitches when his fingers slip lower, teasing your entrance before pushing in with a slow, deliberate curl that has you gasping his name into the crook of his neck. Spencer’s laugh is dark, pleased, his free hand guiding your thigh over his hip so he can press closer, the hard line of his cock straining against his slacks. 

“Every night,” he admits roughly, lips brushing your temple as his fingers work you open. “Every fucking night, baby, I’d close my eyes and see you like this.” His thumb circles your clit again, and you whimper, arching into the touch.

He pauses to suck a bruise just on to the pulse point on your neck, possessive, before dragging his tongue lower, nudging your shorts down with his chin. The first press of his mouth against your inner thigh makes you squirm, but his grip tightens, holding you still. 

“Spence—” you start, but the protest dies when he glances up, eyes blown dark under his lashes. “Hush,” he murmurs, kissing and biting the crease of your thigh. “Let me take care of you.”

Then his tongue is on you, licking a slow, filthy stripe from your entrance to your clit, and your hips jerk helplessly against his mouth. He groans, the vibration making your toes curl, and you barely recognize the noise that tears from your throat. Spencer doesn’t let up, alternating between broad, wet strokes and sharp, focused flicks that have your thighs trembling. One hand pins your hip to the couch while the other strokes your inner thigh, soothing, even as his tongue works you closer to the edge.

“God, you taste perfect,” he rasps against you, lips slick with you. His fingers replace his mouth, thrusting deep as his tongue circles your clit, and the dual sensation pulls a ragged cry from you. You tug at his hair, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow just fucks you with his fingers in time with the relentless swirl of his tongue until your back bows off the couch, pleasure coming so sharply it whites out your vision.

When you come back to yourself, Spencer’s lips are pressed to your inner thigh, his breath hot against your damp skin as he murmurs, “Good girl,” like it’s a prayer. 

His fingers slide out of you slowly, and you whimper at the loss, but he’s already moving, stripping off his shirt with impatient hands. The sight of him all lean muscle makes your mouth water. He catches you looking and smirks, that cocky tilt of his lips you love, before yanking you forward by the hips until you’re straddling him, the rough fabric of his slacks against your bare thighs.

“My turn,” you breathe, palms sliding up his chest to frame his face. He lets you kiss him, lets you lick into his mouth until he groans, hands tightening on your waist. You can taste yourself on his tongue, salty and sweet, and the thought sends a fresh wave of heat between your legs. His cock strains against his pants, and you grind down instinctively, drawing a choked noise from him. 

“Fuck,” he gasps, hips jerking up. “Baby, please—”

You don’t make him beg. Your fingers make quick work of his belt, his zipper, and then he’s free, thick and flushed in your hand. His head drops back against the couch as you stroke him, thumb swiping over the slickness at the tip. 

“Look at you,” you echo his earlier words, squeezing just enough to make him shudder. “All worked up just for me.”

Spencer’s laugh is ragged, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples until you arch into his touch.

 “Always for you,” he murmurs, gaze heavy and hot. “Only ever for you my good girl” 

Then he’s guiding you onto him, one hand on your hip, the other gripping himself as you sink down, both of you gasping at the stretch, the heat. His fingers dig into your flesh as you rock against him, slow at first, then faster when he growls, “That’s it, ride me baby,” into your ear.

Spencer's grip on your hips tightens as you move, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin that neither of you will regret tomorrow. The rhythm is slow at first, savoring the way he fills you, but when you clench around him experimentally, his breath stutters against your collarbone. 

"Fuck—" he hisses, hips jerking up to meet yours, and suddenly the pace isn't gentle anymore. His hands guide you, lifting you just enough to drag you back down onto him with a filthy, wet sound that makes your face burn. Spencer's mouth finds yours again, messy and uncoordinated, his tongue sliding against yours as he murmurs nonsense into your lips. "so good, fuck, baby, just like that”

One hand slides up your throat, fingers wrapping around it and giving it a soft squeeze to tilt your head back, exposing your throat to his teeth. He bites just hard enough to make you cry out in pleasure, then soothes the sting with his tongue, his hips never stopping their relentless upward thrusts.His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass, spreading you wider as he angles himself deeper, and the sudden shift has you seeing stars.

 "Spence," you gasp, nails scraping down his shoulders leaving marks down his back, and he groans like you've wounded him, his forehead dropping to yours.

"My beautiful baby look at me," he demands, voice ragged, and when your eyes flutter open, his gaze is sharp with want, pupils swallowing the hazel. "I wanna watch you cum on my dick please."

 The words alone are enough to make your thighs shake, but then he drags a thumb between your bodies, circling your clit with just the right pressure, and you're gone. Your climax crashes over you like a wave, your back arching as you clench around him, his name a broken cry on your lips.

Spencer's hips stutter beneath you as your body milks him through your orgasm, his fingers tightening almost painfully on your waist. But it's a losing battle; the way you flutter around him, has his vision whiting out. He cums with a choked groan, forehead pressed to your neck as he spills inside you, his hips jerking erratically until he's completely spent.

For a long moment, the only sounds are your mingled breaths and the distant dialogue from the forgotten crime drama. Spencer's lips brush a lazy, damp kiss over your racing pulse before he slumps back against the couch, taking you with him  as his arms wrap possessively around your waist. 

The TV flickers, casting shifting shadows across the room as Spencer traces idle patterns down your spine. His other hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together and bringing them to his lips. He kisses your knuckles one by one, then turns your palm up to press a lingering kiss to the center. 

“God I love you”  he mutters against your skin, but makes no move to disentangle himself. You two lie there in complete safety. Before your eyes close he whispers to how much hes missed you,how much he loves you and how he can't wait to spend the rest of his life by your side. 

[myliteralhyperfixations19]

Every Word You Say

18+ | Fluff | Established relationship  | smut | 

wc: 2059

a/n: This was so fun to write!! As yall can see this definitely got away from me! But this is for my tumblr bestie who requested talking each other through it. No lie this was sooooooo hot to write. Also as requested I've included a link at the end for visual/sound vibes! Please send more requests yall! I'll write anything.  Soo Enjoyyyyyyyy or suffer!

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The keychain was shaped like a tiny black cat, its enamel worn smooth. Adrien Chase turned it over in his fingers one last time before dropping it into the dish by the front door. The apartment smelled like garlic and something rich, and his boots left faint dust prints on the clean hardwood. He could hear the faint hum of music from the kitchen, the clink of a spoon against ceramic.

He shrugged off his tac vest, the weight of it hitting the hallway bench with a thud that made the picture frames rattle. One was crooked,the one from your wedding, his thumb brushing your waist in the photo where the lace of your dress had spilled over his fingers like foam. He straightened it absently,heading towards the kitchen listening to the way your footsteps moved from the stove to the fridge.

 "Took you long enough,baby" you said happily

Adrien leaned against the counter beside you, just letting himself exist in the warmth of your orbit, the steam from the pot curling between you. "Got held up," he murmured. "Miller forgot the damn codes again."

You snorted, flicking the stove off with a twist of your wrist before turning fully toward him. The wooden spoon dripped sauce onto the counter, forgotten, as you reached up to cup his jaw. His stubble scraped your palm, a grounding, familiar roughness.

 “Miller’s a disaster,” you said, thumb brushing the faint bruise under his eye. “But you’re here now.”

Adrien exhaled, long and slow, his hands settling on your hips.  The fabric of your sleep dress wrinkled under his grip, the warmth of him seeping through.

 “Missed you,” he murmured, forehead pressed against yours. The admission was soft, almost embarrassed, the way it always was when he said it outright.

You grinned, nipping his lower lip. “Yeah? Prove it.”

He groaned, but the sound dissolved into a laugh as you shoved him backward toward the living room and the couch, his knees hitting the cushions with a thump. You climbed into his lap, the hem of your dress riding up your thighs. His hands slid higher, fingers digging into the softness there. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” he muttered, tilting his head back as you rocked against him.

You leaned down, your lips brushing his. “Say it again,” you murmured, biting down lightly on his lips just to feel him shudder. “How much you missed me.” 

His groan was ragged, hands sliding up to grip your ass. “Fuck—every second,” he admitted, voice cracking. “Every goddamn mission, all I think about is coming home to this.” His fingers flexed, kneading the flesh under your dress, and you arched into the touch with a breathy moan.

Adrien’s mouth found your neck, teeth scraping before his tongue soothed the sting. “My pretty girl,” he muttered against your skin, the word vibrating through you as his hands slid up your back to unhook your bra. You let it fall, shivering when the cool air hit your nipples, but his palms were there instantly, warm and rough.

 “So fucking perfect,” he breathed, thumbs circling your nipples until you whimpered. 

You grinned, biting the swell of his bottom lip as you rolled your hips again, the thick ridge of him pressing insistently against you. “Really?,” you teased, breath hitching when his thumb brushed over your nipple, “you gonna show me how perfect?”

“Please,” he gasped, voice breaking on the word. “Fuck, please—need you. Let me show you baby”

You giggled, sliding off his lap just long enough to shimmy out of your dress and panties. His eyes darkened and his smile widened as you climbed back onto him, one hand braced on his shoulder while the other guided him inside you. The stretch was delicious, familiar, his groan echoing yours as you sank down inch by inch. 

“That’s it,” he breathed, hands settling on your hips, thumbs digging into the softness there. “Take what you need, baby.”

You moved slowly at first, but then his grip tightened, his hips jerking up to meet you, and the pace quickened, the slap of skin against skin filling the room.

 “Fuck—just like that,” he panted, head falling back against the couch. His hands slid up to grip your ass, his fingers leaving faint red marks in their wake.

“Jesus—look at you,” he muttered, gaze dragging down your body like he could memorize the way your breasts bounced with each movement, the way his cock stretched you open. His thumb brushed your clit, the pressure just shy of rough, and you gasped, your rhythm stuttering. 

“That’s it, good girl” he coaxed, voice low and wrecked. “Cum for me. Let me feel it.”

“Not yet,” you breathed, his hips jerked upward, chasing the friction, but you pressed a hand to his chest, holding him still. “Patience, baby.”

Adrien’s laugh was half a growl, his hands sliding up to grip your waist as he sat forward suddenly, flipping you onto your back in one smooth motion. The couch groaned under the shift, but neither of you cared, not when he was looming over you, his chest heaving, his cock still buried deep inside you.

 “You’re a menace,” he muttered, nipping at your jaw before capturing your mouth in a kiss that was all teeth and desperation. His hips rolled against yours, slow and deep, the angle just right to drag against that spot inside you that made your toes curl. “But you’re my menace.”

You arched into him, nails scraping down his back as he picked up the pace, his thrusts relentless, each one punching a moan from your throat. His mouth found your neck, teeth scraping before his tongue soothed the sting, and you whimpered, your legs tightening around his waist.

 “God—Adrien,” you moaned, fingers tangling in his hair as his rhythm stuttered, his hips snapping against yours with bruising force. “You feel amazing” 

 “Tell me,” you demanded, arching up into him as he fucked you deeper, the couch creaking beneath you. 

 “Tell you what?” he teased, though the way his voice cracked gave him away.

“Who I belong to,” you murmured, biting his chin. Adrien groaned,and the next thrust had you seeing stars, your gasp swallowed by his mouth as he kissed you messy, all tongue and teeth.

 “Mine,” he growled against your lips, one hand tilting your chin up to look at him. His teeth grazed your pulse point, the sharp sting melting into warmth when he sucked hard enough to leave a mark. “Every fucking inch of you.”

Adrien grinned against your lips, smug and breathless. "That's it," he murmured, rolling his hips in a slow, filthy grind that made your toes curl. "Take it, baby. Take what you need." His breath hitched when you clenched around him, your nails scraping down his back.  

The admission punched a moan from your throat, your legs tightening around his waist as the coil in your belly wound tighter. His rhythm faltered when you clenched around him, his breath coming in ragged bursts against your neck. “That’s it,” he urged, voice wrecked, his free hand sliding between you to circle your clit with rough, perfect pressure. “Come for me. Let me feel you—fuck—” His words dissolved into a groan when you obeyed, your back bowing off the couch as pleasure ripped through you.

Adrien didn’t let up, his fingers relentless even as you writhed beneath him, oversensitive and trembling. “One more,” he demanded, gripping your hip to hold you still as he fucked you through it, his thrusts turning erratic. “Want you to come again—, you’re perfect—” You screamed his name when the second wave hit, your nails biting into his shoulders as he chased his own release, his hips snapping against yours with bruising force. Adrien's breath came in ragged bursts against your neck, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave bruises, marks you’d trace later with smug satisfaction. 

 "That's it," he murmured, rolling his hips in a slow, filthy grind that made your toes curl. "Take it, baby. Take what you need." His breath hitched when you clenched around him, your nails scraping down his arm where he held you pinned.

You knew that tone, that broken edge to his voice. "Not yet," you breathed, pressing a palm to his chest to slow his frantic thrusts. His groan was almost pained, hips twitching under your restraint. 

"Look at me," you demanded, and when his gaze snapped to yours, you tightened around him deliberately, watching his jaw clench. "Say it properly."

Adrien's breath hitched, his fingers flexing against your skin like he was fighting not to come apart. "Please," he gasped, the word raw. "Need you to let me." His hips jerked helplessly, chasing friction you denied him with a roll of your own. 

You relented with a grin. "Come on, then," you murmured, nails scraping down his spine. "Show me how much you missed me."

Adrien groaned, his rhythm faltering for a heartbeat before he redoubled his efforts. One hand fisted in your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Tell me,” he demanded, voice rough with want. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” you moaned, nails scraping the couch cushions. “Always you—”

"Louder," he demanded, punctuating the word with a sharp thrust that stole your breath. "Say it like you mean it."

"Yours," you moaned, the word fracturing as his hips snapped forward again, the angle hitting something inside you that made stars burst behind your eyelids. "Only ever—fuck—yours—"

Adrien's teeth sank into your neck, the sharp pain melting into liquid heat when he soothed the mark with his tongue. "Good girl," he murmured against your skin, his voice wrecked. His free hand slid beneath you, fingers finding your clit with unerring precision, and you jerked against him with a broken cry. "Come on, baby. Let go for me."

The words shattered through you like lightning command and praise twisting together until you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. Your back arched instinctively, as you saw stars across your vision. Adrien thrusts halted as he came undone. He shattered beautifully. His hips stuttered, driving into you with one last, deep grind before he stilled, his groan muffled against your neck as he spilled inside you, hot and relentless. You held him through it, fingers carding through his sweat-damp hair as he trembled above you, his breath coming in ragged bursts against your collarbone.

Adrien shifted just enough to prop himself on his elbows, his gaze dragging over your face like he was memorizing the way your lashes fanned against your cheeks, the flush still high on your skin. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, smudging the kiss-swollen curve, and you nipped at it lightly, watching his pupils flare.

 “Don’t start,” he warned, voice low and wrecked, but his hips rolled into yours anyway, the lazy friction making you both groan.

You laughed, rolling your hips experimentally, delighting in the sharp inhale it punched from his lungs.

 “Threats and promises,” you murmured, dragging your nails down his chest just to watch him squirm. Adrien caught your wrist, pinning it above your head with a growl that sent heat pooling low in your belly.

 “You’re insatiable,” he muttered, but the way his mouth crashed into yours betrayed him. He loved it, loved the way you unraveled him, loved the push and pull between you.

The silence stretched, comfortable and warm. You carded your fingers through his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp just the way he liked, and felt him shiver against you. “Love you,” he murmured, the words slurred with sleep, as if he couldn’t hold them in any longer.

The words were muffled against your skin, half-swallowed by the exhaustion and the press of his lips to your collarbone, but they settled in your chest all the same—warm and familiar as the weight of him draped over you. You smiled, fingertips tracing the shell of his ear, the curve of his jaw where stubble scraped rough under your touch. 

“Love you more,” you whispered back, eyes closing in contentment.

For your visual/audio pleasure-- X

Do not come for me about the link, it was asked for.

[saintkaylaa]

Pillow Talk .ᐟ

𝜗𝜚: satoru, suguru, nanami, choso, toji

note: you made them sleep on the couch and now they’re begging to come back to bed !

warnings: sexual, suggestive, cursing, crack, f!reader

I BLOCK MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS

[myliteralhyperfixations19]

I love Nanami’s ,Choso and Gojo’s it’s like all parts of my personality with them!!!!

[myliteralhyperfixations19]

Movie night

18+ | Fluff | Established relationship  | Smut |Submissive | Steve Harrington | Plus Size Reader |

wc: 1600

a/n: This for my previous post request! 1st out of the 3 is our lovely Steve Harrington. Also, I don't know why I need to say this but all my fics are tagged plus size reader because I am a Plus size writer and my fics will always be geared that way unless stated other wise!!!!! I am still taking requests! Enjoy! :)

The living room was bathed in the soft flicker of the TV, shadows crawling along the wood-paneled walls. The VHS of A Nightmare on Elm Street hummed quietly, the tape’s faint hiss the only background to the tension that had settled between you. Steve sat next to you on the couch, arm tentatively resting along the back cushion. His sneakers tapped against the carpet in an uneven rhythm, betraying how tense he was. He’d tried all night to act casual, offering popcorn, cracking jokes during the scary parts, pretending he wasn’t hard every time you brushed against him but his desire pulsed beneath the surface.

Then the movie jumped. Freddy Krueger’s claws screeched across the pipes, and your hand shot out, gripping his arm. His breath caught, not from the film, but from the pressure of your fingers on him.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low and careful, leaning closer.

You nodded, still clutching him. “Yeah… it just got me.”

His lips curved into a small, nervous grin. “Told you this one was creepy.”

The silence that followed wasn’t empty; it was charged. The tape hummed on, the buttery scent of popcorn lingering, your hand still warm on his sleeve. His eyes roamed over you, taking in every curve, every detail, until the tension became unbearable.

“I, uh…” His voice dropped, trembling. He rubbed the back of his neck, hands fidgeting. “I… I need you.”

Your chest tightened. You tilted your head, smiling knowingly.

“What’s that?”

He leaned in slowly, trembling, every nerve alert. His lips brushed yours, tentative, almost pleading. His hands hovered at your sides, waiting for guidance. When you tilted your head, he followed instantly, desperate.

The first kiss was tentative. Each brush of lips, each soft whimper that slipped from him was a plea: I’m yours. Use me. When you deepened the kiss, he let out a quiet whine, leaning into you as if gravity had abandoned him. 

“C-can I… can I have more?” he whispered against your lips, voice quivering.

You tilted his chin, kissing his flushed cheek. “You can always have more,” you murmured.

Before he could overthink it, you tugged him closer, guiding him to straddle your lap. He gasped at the sudden shift, knees pressing against the couch on either side of your thighs, weight hesitant but desperate to be where you wanted him.

“You’re okay,” you whispered, hands sliding over his hips, nails dragging slowly down his back. “Just relax for me.”

He exhaled shakily, shoulders slumping as he pressed closer. His lips returned to yours, worshipful, moving to your neck, nipping and sucking before returning to your lips with more urgency. His hands fumbled over your shoulders, clutching for grounding.

Your fingers threaded through his curls, tugging gently, eliciting soft whimpers. His body trembled, leaning into yours, surrendering entirely.

“Please… don’t stop,” he begged, lips brushing yours, voice thick with need.

You guided him, steadying his hips, beginning to guide him as he rocked against you.  You gripped his sides, nails digging lightly, every moan answering his. You leaned forward, whispering praise into his ear, watching him melt.

“You are so good for me,” you whispered, thumb brushing over his cheek.

He moaned into your mouth. Praise lit a fire inside him, drove him further into need. “Thank you… thank you, baby…” he whimpered. “I just… I want to please you.”

“Of course you do,” you purred, grinding slightly. “You live to make me feel good, don’t you, baby? You live to make me cum for you?”

“Yes… yes! I need you… only you… please…”

You leaned down, trailing kisses from his temple, jaw, to his neck, letting him feel worshiped and claimed. Every whine, every press into you, every tug at your shirt made your pulse quicken. You rolled your hips, teasing him, giving just enough friction to drive him wild without release.

“Please…” he whispered, voice shaky. “Please… I need it…”

“You need it?” you teased, grinding harder. Knowing he wouldn't cum without your permission.  “You know you can have anything baby, you just have to ask?”

“Yes… anything for you… please…” he moaned, trembling.

You kissed him deeply, wet and messy, tasting him, tugging him closer, grinding slower, letting the anticipation build. His hands roamed your back, gripping and guiding, worshiping every inch of your body.

“So good for me,” you moaned into his ear, as he shivered, pressing his forehead to your shoulder, biting softly.

“Please… I’m yours… all yours… I’ll do anything for you… mark me as yours” he gasped, every word a sinful whisper.

You reached up gripping his hair as you kiss him, whispering praise in his ear, telling him how perfect he was, how obedient, how beautiful it made you feel that he let you take control so completely. His whines and gasps grew louder, the tension building in tight, desperate waves.

He looked down at you with wide, dazed eyes, lips kiss-swollen, and whispered, “Please don’t stop.”

Next, you rode him, hips moving against his, his hands gripping your hips as he whimpered with every thrust. Raw this time. He always said you should be protected, but you both ignored it, lost in need.

“I want to cum all over you. I want you to make me feel so good,Steve,” you whispered, hands finding his cheeks as you moved. Thumb stroking gently, hips rolling back and forth.

Steve whimpers at your praise, head falling back against the couch cushions. His praise kink is blatant, and you use it to your advantage.

“Please,” he moans, whiny and desperate.

“Please what, baby?” you tease, picking up the pace to intensify the sensation.

“Please… I need it,” he begs, eyes flashing up at you, the rest of the world gone.

“Yes, anything, baby,” you whisper, rubbing his cheek as his mouth drops open, eyes rolling back slightly. You lean forward, spit dripping from your mouth into his. Kissing him deep and rough. 

His hands, normally tentative, grip you, sliding under your shirt to hold you, guiding you down onto  the couch cushions dip beneath him. He hovers over you, curls falling into his eyes, chest rising and falling fast, lips hovering with heat and tension.

“You’re so” he groans softly into your mouth as he slides back into you. Swallowed words replaced with whimpers, and you gasp.

The kiss deepens, lips pressing and sliding together with urgent intensity, tongues exploring. His hands quiver along your waist, fingertips tracing every curve, but he doesn’t pull away; he leans in, letting his need show.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him closer, urging him down into you. A shiver runs through him as his chest presses to yours, hips slapping slightly, wet sounds echoing in the room. He lets out a loud, needy whine minutes later and you move him inside of you faster.

“Do you want to cum?” you tease. “Do you want me to let you come?”

He trembles violently. “Yes… yes… please… I can’t… I can’t hold it anymore…”

“Not yet,” you whisper, edging him, denying release while guiding his hands to worship your body. “I want to hear you beg. Tell me how much you need me, how good I make you feel.”

“I… I need you… so much… please… I’m yours… completely… only yours…” he whines, voice trembling, tears in his eyes.

“Gooood,” you purr. “Look at you, melting… for me.”

You trace his jaw, down his neck, lips grazing his skin. He shivers, whines, pressing closer, hips jerking. You tease him mercilessly, whispering praise and moaning for him. Every time he nears release, you slow, denying him, letting him writhe and whimper in need.

“ So perfect for me…” you whisper. “Do you feel how much I own you?”

“Yes… yes… all yours… I can’t… I can’t hold it…” he moans, hands clutching your hips, tugging, pressing, anchoring himself.

“Not yet, baby… you’re mine to tease,” you whisper, whispering praise, whispering ownership. “Say it… tell me you belong to me, that you live to please me…”

“I… I’m yours… only yours… to do with as you want… I’ll obey… always…” he gasps, trembling violently.

You keep him on the edge, teasing, whispering every worshipful word, guiding his hands, making him touch you exactly how you want it, forcing eye contact, letting him see the way you come undone because of him. Letting him watch you cum, while he can't find his relief.  Every denial, every slow roll, every whispered command makes him melt further, desperate.

Finally, when he really can't take it anymore, you allow release. He collapses into you, chest heaving, arms wrapping around you, trembling and spent. You kiss his temple, running your fingers through his damp curls, holding him close to your chest, letting him feel safe, claimed, utterly worshiped.

“I… I love it,” he murmurs, voice low and raw. “Every… every time… with you…”

You press your lips to his forehead, murmuring, “I love it too… watching you melt… letting me claim you… letting me own you…”

He nuzzles into your shoulder, soft, satisfied, completely surrendered. “I can’t… never… get enough… never stop…”

Your hands slide through his curls, tugging him closer. “You’re mine… every time, every moment, every touch… completely mine.”

He shudders, whispering thickly, “I love you… and I love… every time with you…”

You kiss the top of his head, letting the quiet, heavy afterglow from the since forgotten about tv, wrap around you both like a warm blanket. He melts entirely into you, utterly yours.

[gojosconsort]

pls maybe do choso who’s soooo needy and like creams his pants while eating out reader like he’s a top tier munch

mdni. choso eating you out and creams himself.

“choso,” you breathe, fingers sliding into his hair. “slow down a little, baby.”

he makes a broken sound against you—half whine, half growl—and shakes his head no without pulling off. if anything he dives in deeper. flat tongue dragging from your entrance all the way up, then sealing his lips around your clit and sucking like he’s trying to pull your soul out through it.

your hips jump. he moans so loud the vibration shoots straight up your spine. you feel the way his whole body shudders. he’s humping the mattress slow and helpless, cock trapped in his sweats, already leaking through the grey fabric.

you glance down. there’s a dark wet spot spreading right over the thick outline of him. he’s so hard it looks painful, head flushed dark and pushing against the waistband. every time he grinds down a little more pre leaks out, soaking him further.

“fuck—you’re already close?” you tease.

he doesn’t answer with words. just whimpers into your pussy and starts tongue-fucking you. long, messy strokes inside, curling up to hit that spot that makes your toes curl. his nose bumps your clit on every thrust.

his hips keep rolling. small, needy thrusts against the bed like he can’t help it. the wet patch grows bigger. you can see the way the head of his cock keeps kicking inside the cotton, smearing more mess every time he ruts forward.

“choso—look at you,” you murmur, tugging his hair to make him glance up.

his eyes are glassy, pupils blown, cheeks flushed crimson. lips swollen and shiny with you. “please,” he rasps. “please let me—i need to make you come, need it so bad—”

he dives back down before you can answer, sucking your clit hard while two thick fingers slide inside you. they crook immediately, pressing right where you’re sensitive. his tongue flicks side to side over your clit at the same time and it’s too much. your back bows. thighs clamp around his head. “oh god—choso—”

he moans like he’s the one getting off. loud, broken, muffled against your cunt. his fingers speed up, curling harder, and his hips stutter against the mattress—once, twice—then he’s coming.

you feel it happen; a choked sob vibrating right into your clit. hot pulses soak through his sweats, the wet spot blooming huge and dark now. he keeps grinding through it, shallow little jerks, riding out the orgasm while he never stops eating you.

you yank at his hair so tight he whines into your pussy. waves crash through you, slick coating his chin, dripping down his throat. he drinks it all, tongue still working, slower now, lapping you through the aftershocks like he can’t bear to stop.

when you finally push his head away he’s panting, lips glossy and red. the front of his sweats is a mess—fabric clinging transparently to his softening cock, come still leaking in weak spurts.

he looks up at you with those big, dazed eyes. “sorry,” he mumbles. “couldn’t—couldn’t hold it. you taste so fucking good i—”

you cut him off by pulling him up, kissing the taste of yourself off his tongue. he melts into it, whimpering against your mouth. “again?” he asks. “please—wanna do it again. wanna make you come on my tongue.”

you laugh softly, thumb brushing over his sensitive head through the fabric. “then get back down.” and he groans like you’ve just offered him heaven.

[myliteralhyperfixations19]

Give me your attention

18+ | Fluff | established relationship  | smut | a little angsty

wc: 1743

a/n:  ive been loving the frat boy gojo fics lately, I got drunk last night and this came to me in a dream lol!! frat boys are naturally submissive!!! Enjoyyyyyyyy or suffer! Send more requests. I've also got a surprise for my next story!!!! 

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"Gojo, I swear to god—if you bail on me one more time for those idiots, I’m throwing your Xbox into the goddamn pool."

Gojo blinked up at you  from the couch, where he’d been sprawled out like a discarded hoodie, phone in hand. His frat group chat was blowing up but the way his girlfriend was looming over him, arms crossed, made his thumbs freeze mid-text.

"You wouldn’t," he said, but it came out more like a question.

your arched an eyebrow. "Try me."

Gojo's phone clattered onto the coffee table, facedown. The screen lit up with another  dozen notifications, but he didn’t so much as glance at it. Instead, he sat up straighter, fingers curling into the fabric of his sweatpants. "Okay," he said, voice softer than you'd heard in weeks. "Okay, you’re right. I’ve been an asshole."

you didn’t budge, but your  shoulders loosened just a fraction. "Damn right you have."

He reached for your wrist, thumb brushing the inside of your wrist where your pulse jumped. "Tell me how to fix it." The words came out raw, stripped of his usual playful deflection. "I’ll do whatever you want."

For a long moment, you studied him the way his usually cocky mouth was pressed into a thin line, the way his fingers trembled against your  skin. Then, with a slow exhale, you stepped back and jerked your chin toward the bedroom. "Get in there and lay on the bed for me"

Gojo's breath hitched as he scrambled off the couch, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to obey. The bedroom door clicked shut behind them, and the muffled sound of his phone vibrating against the coffee table faded into irrelevance. He didn't even glance back.

 "take it all off for me," you said, leaning against the dresser. "nice and slow."

His throat worked as he swallowed, but his hands moved immediately, peeling his shirt over his head in one fluid motion. The fabric caught briefly on his stupidly perfect hair before he tossed it aside, revealing the taut lines of his abdomen. You didn’t rush him, just let your  gaze linger as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants and put them down, kicking them off with a little too much force. The elastic of his boxers snapped against his hips, and you smirked at the way his breath stuttered.

"Those too," you said, nodding at the last remaining barrier. His Adam’s apple bobbed again, but he obeyed, sliding the fabric down his thighs until it pooled at his ankles. The flush creeping up his chest was delicious, half embarrassment, half anticipation. He was already hard, the tip of his cock glistening under the dim bedroom light. You clicked your  tongue. "Look at you. Can’t even wait for me, huh?"

 "Just lie back for me and keep your hands at your sides.  And don’t you dare move them,” you said leaning against yalls dresser. 

He did, collapsing onto the mattress with a soft exhale, his fingers twitching against the comforter  as if resisting the urge to touch you.. When you finally climbed onto the mattress, your  knees bracketing his hips, Gojo let out a shaky breath, his pupils blown wide. "You're gonna listen to me tonight," you murmured, tracing a single fingertip down his sternum. "you ready baby."

Gojo's chest rose sharply under your  touch. "Yes," he breathed, the word barely audible.

you rewarded him with a slow, deliberate stroke from base to tip, your  fingers just tight enough to make his hips jerk. "Good boy," you purred, watching the way his abs clenched under the praise. His breath came in uneven bursts, his fingers twitching at his sides like he was fighting the urge to grab you. you smirked, tightening your grip just enough to make him whimper. "Uh-uh. Hands stay put."

Gojo whimpered again, louder this time, his thighs trembling as you leaned down, your  breath hot against his cock.

 "You’re gonna be patient for me, right?" you murmured, your  tongue flicking out to trace the vein along the underside. He choked on a gasp, his hips jerking up a little,  your free hand came up to press down firmly on his stomach, pinning him in place. "I said still."

The command sent a visible shudder through him. He forced himself flat against the mattress, his chest heaving. "Fuck," he breathed, his voice ragged. "Please—"

you ignored him, taking your  time. your lips brushed the head of his cock, feather light, just enough to make him whine. "You don’t get to beg yet,you don't get to cum yet" you said, your  thumb rubbing slow circles over the slickness gathered at his tip. "Not until I say so."

Gojo's hands fisted the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white, his entire body coiled tight as a spring. His breath came in ragged bursts, the sound almost desperate in the quiet room.

you didn’t rush. The way you savored him, your tongue dragging lazily along his length before pulling back just enough to swirl around the tip. Every time he thought you might finally take him deeper, you'd retreat again, leaving him gasping and twitching beneath you . His hips jerked involuntarily, and you immediately pulled away entirely, raising an eyebrow.

"Did I say you could move?" your  voice was calm, but the edge beneath it made him whimper.

"N-no," he stammered, his voice cracking. "Sorry—I’m sorry—"

"Good apology," you murmured, pressing an open mouthed kiss to the spot where his hip met his thigh. His entire body jerked, but he managed to keep his hips still this time. You rewarded him by dragging your  tongue up the length of his cock in one slow, wet stroke, stopping just short of the tip.

you chuckled, the vibration making him twitch. "You’re so pretty like this," you mused, circling the tip with your  thumb. "All desperate and wound up just for me." you punctuated the words with a slow, filthy lick from base to tip, savoring the way his stomach muscles jumped under your  palm. "Bet your frat bros wouldn’t recognize you right now."

Gojo’s back arched off the bed, a strangled cry tearing from his throat as your  mouth enveloped him completely. His hands flew down instinctively and maybe you accepted his apology because you didn't move his hands away or stop.

 you pulled him deeper, swallowing around him until his vision blurred. The sound he made was raw, unfiltered, nothing like the cocky laughter he reserved for his frat brothers. This was just for you . His hips bucked involuntarily, and you let him, humming approval against his skin as his fingers tightened in your  hair. 

"That's it," you murmured, pulling back just enough to watch the way his eyelashes fluttered. "You can move now. But slow."

Gojo whimpered, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he rocked his hips upward, chasing the wet heat of your  mouth. Every thrust was measured, controlled like he was terrified you'd take the privilege away if he got too greedy. The irony wasn’t lost on you; the guy who chugged beer like it was water and tackled his friends into swimming pools now moved with the precision of a monk. You rewarded him by hollowing your cheeks, sucking hard enough to make his toes curl into the sheets.

"Fuck—fuck—" His voice cracked, his grip on your  hair tightening just shy of painful. "I’m close, I’m—"

you pulled off with a wet pop, ignoring his broken noise of protest. "Did I say you could?" your  thumb swiped over the head of his cock, smearing the precum beading. "You don’t get to come until I know you mean it. Until I know I’m more important than those idiots blowing up your phone."

Gojo's breath stuttered against your  neck, his chest rising and falling like a frantic tide. "You are," he gasped, fingers twitching against your  scalp. "You know you are—"

you nipped at his earlobe, just hard enough to make him jerk. "Then prove it." your  hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing just enough to make him whimper. "Tell me what you want."

His throat worked, his lips parting and closing like a fish out of water before he finally managed to choke out the words. "I want—fuck—I want you to let me come." His voice was wrecked, the syllables trembling as much as his thighs. "Please. Please, let me— let me fuck your mouth"

you tightened your grip fractionally, watching the way his hips twitched uselessly against your  restraint. "Ask nicer," you murmured, dragging your tongue along his jawline.

Gojo made a sound like a wounded animal, his fingers flexing helplessly. "Please," he gasped, the word ragged at the edges. "Please, baby, let me—fuck—let me come in your mouth. Wanna feel you swallow me down, wanna—" His voice cracked as your  thumb circled his tip again, his entire body shuddering. "Wanna prove it's you I'm thinking about when I'm with them. That it's always been you."

The raw honesty in his voice sent a thrill down your  spine. you held his gaze as your took him back into your  mouth, slow and deliberate, savoring the way his pupils blew wide with desperate gratitude. n.

When you hollowed your cheeks and sucked hard, his control shattered. A broken cry tore from his throat as his hips jerked upward, his fingers tightening on your head just as the first pulse hit your  tongue. You swallowed him down without hesitation, humming encouragement as his entire body convulsed beneath you .

Gojo collapsed back against the mattress like a puppet with its strings cut, his chest heaving as the aftershocks rolled through him. you wiped your  mouth with the back of your hand, grinning at the way his eyelashes fluttered when you pressed a kiss to his inner thigh. 

"Good boy," you murmured, savoring the way his muscles twitched under your  lips.

His fingers trembled as they loosened their grip. "Jesus fucking—" He swallowed hard, his voice shot. "You're gonna kill me one day."

you laughed, low and wicked, crawling up his body until your noses brushed. "Only if you're lucky."

[chrisevansleftpeck]

boyfriend Sam Winchester (long and specific) hc's bc he's so boyfriend <3

★ "Arms up baby." Anytime you're cold Sammy gives you one of his carhartts that smell exactly like him, the library, and tea. He loves you in his clothes all the time. From his plaid button ups which swallow you up whole to his socks which need no-doubling up because they keep you very warm. Sam's girl is never cold as long as he's around.

★ Anytime he's doing anything seated, he wants you in his lap. Reading? You're in bed laying between his legs, your novel out in front of you and he's above you reading his book on top of your head (bc he's so so tall ofc) . Video Games? Your on the couch on his lap, holding a switch, with his arms encircling you, holding his own. Talking? You're sitting between his legs on the couch with one of his hands around your waist and another on your thigh, holding you tight.

★ Everyone thinks Sam's a health nut - loves a run and a fruit smoothie. It's probably because he's always on the road and never has much access to great food. However, he secretly so enjoys eating junk food on nights in with his girl. He's always down to share a milkshake, binge tv and eat pizza, get extra buttered popcorn at the movies, and make midnight ice-cream runs.

★ Sam can't sleep unless your around. He's usually on the maximum dose of melatonin unless you're around. Because in that case, you're his melatonin. There's something so peaceful and settling about sleeping on his side with you tucked into him, facing or away, and his arm securely around your waist or back. He also loves when you lay on top of him, your legs entwined with his and your head on his chest, tucked beneath his chin.

★ Speaking of laying on top...When you and Sam take a cat nap at the motel, he always shyly asks to lay on top of you. The manly thing to do would be to let his girl lay on him but he loves nothing more than to rest his head on your chest and fall asleep swept up in your arms and soft hair, taking in your soothing smell. It never feels like he's crushing you, just that he's relaxed enough to let you carry his weight. His legs are of course much too long though and are always nearly hanging off the bed but that's the price to pay I guess lol.

★ Sam loves loves loves pet names. His go to for you is sweetheart and he uses it frequently. However, anytime you call him "big guy", "baby", "honey", or "Sammy" (his favorite name by far) he always ducks his head down to hide his face, stares at you softly and blushes, or kisses you on the nose quickly to hide his fluster.

[myliteralhyperfixations19]

I like to tease

18+ | Fluff | Established relationship  | smut | 

wc: 1492

a/n: Enjoyyyyyyyy or suffer! Send more requests i've also got a surprise for my next story!!!!

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"Whose idea was it to wear that out?" The voice came low and rough from the darkened living room, just as you stumbled through the front door, one heel dangling precariously from your fingers. You giggled, kicking the door shut behind you with more force than necessary, the click of the lock barely audible over your own tipsy humming.

The apartment smelled faintly of leather and something sharper, a cleaning solution, maybe, though you doubted Toji had bothered with chores while you were gone. The thought made you snort as you wobbled toward the couch, where his silhouette lounged, one arm draped over the back. 

"You said it was cute earlier," you mumbled, plopping down beside him with a bounce. The hem of your skirt rode up dangerously high, the sequins catching the dim light every time you shifted. You didn’t miss the way his gaze tracked the movement, lingering on the exposed skin of your thigh.

Toji exhaled through his nose, slow and deliberate, before reaching out to hook a finger under the strap of your top barely more than a scrap of lace tugging it just hard enough to make it snap.  

 "Cute’s one thing," he muttered. "This is a fucking invitation."

His fingers tightened around the strap before you could protest he yanked your forward, your chest colliding with his, the scent of his cologne mixing with the faint vodka on your breath.

 "You smell like a bar," he muttered, nostrils flaring as he dragged his nose along the curve of your neck. "And your delicious perfume." His teeth grazed your pulse point, not quite biting yet, just enough to make your squirm.

“Jealous?” you giggled again, drunkenly defiant, tilting your head to give him better access. The word came out sing-song, taunting. His answering groan vibrated against your throat before he finally sank his teeth in, sharp enough to pull a yelp from your lips. Your hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as he soothed the sting with a slow, wet lick.

"Fuck yes, I'm jealous," he admitted, voice thick. One hand slid down your side, fingers splaying over the curve of your ass before gripping hard enough to bruise. "Every bastard in that club saw you like this." His other hand on the back of your neck tugging your head back to expose more of your throat. "But I'm the only one who gets to fuck you in it."

The couch groaned as he shifted, flipping you onto your stomach with a single rough push. Your skirt barely clung to your hips now, the sequins scratching against the leather as you moved, half-protesting, half-arching into his touch. Toji didn’t waste time, his palm came down on your ass with a sharp smack, the sound echoing in the quiet apartment. You yelped, but the noise melted into a moan as his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, peeling them down just enough to expose you.

"Look at you," Toji muttered, his voice dripping with something between admiration and pure love as his fingers slid over the damp fabric of your panties. "Already soaked babygirl.” 

The first drag of his fingers between your thighs had your arching off the couch, a whine caught in your throat. He chuckled, low and dark, circling your clit with a maddening laziness.  His other hand came to grab your throat tilting your head back just enough to hear your breathing. " you’re just waiting for me to fuck you senseless, werent you?"

You couldn’t even muster a retort, not when his fingers curled inside your, not when his thumb pressed down hard on your clit, not when the heat pooling in your stomach coiled tighter with every rough stroke. your moan was muffled against the couch, your hips jerking back against his hand, chasing the friction. Toji’s grip on your throat tightened, forcing you still.

 "Nuh-uh," he taunted, slowing his fingers to a torturous pace. "You don’t get to come until I say so."

The sound of his belt unbuckling sent a shiver down your spine. You didn’t need to see him to know how hard he was, the way his voice had dropped into that gravelly register that meant he was barely holding back. The couch dipped as he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, his teeth scraping over your shoulder. 

"Gonna make you wish you stayed home and let me take care of you all night," he growled, lining himself up with a rough nudge of his hips.

The first thrust punched the air from your lungs, your moan swallowed by the leather couch as you bit down on it. Toji didn’t ease in, he never did, just buried himself to the hilt in one brutal push, your body stretching around him with a slick, sound. your fingers clawed at the cushions, knuckles bleaching white, but he didn’t give you a second to adjust, already pulling back and slamming home again. The rhythm was punishing from the start, each snap of his hips jolting your forward, your sequined skirt riding up with every movement until it was just a crumpled mess at your waist.

"Fuck—fuck—" you choked out, the words fracturing as he angled deeper, hitting a spot that made your vision blur. Toji’s hand went around to your neck again, yanking your head back to expose the fluid column of your throat. His teeth found the tender skin beneath your ear, biting down hard enough to leave a mark as he pounded into your, the couch creaking dangerously beneath you.

 "I knew having all those men looking at you would drive me crazy" he growled against your skin, his breath scalding. "Like they wanted  you." His fingers tightened, forcing you to arch up, your back bowing under the pressure. "But you’re all mine babygirl."

you couldn’t even form a coherent response, your moans stuttering out in time with his thrusts, your thighs trembling while they pressed against the leather. The heat pooling low in your stomach coiled tighter with every rough stroke, the friction bordering on too much but you couldn’t stop yourself from bouncing your ass back against him, desperate for more. Toji’s free hand slid around your hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thigh as he hiked one leg up onto the back of the couch, changing the angle just enough to make you cry out. 

"There it is," he muttered, satisfaction dripping from his voice as he felt your clench around him. "Knew you’d break for me baby"

The slap of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with your ragged panting and his low, barely audible words as he talked you through it. You could feel him everywhere the press of his chest against your back, the bite of his fingers in your hip, the scrape of his teeth along your shoulder. Every nerve was oversensitive and thrumming with the desperate pleasure.

"Tell me," Toji demanded, his voice rough against your ear. His hips snapped forward again, forcing a choked whimper from your throat. "Tell me Im yours ."

you couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, not when he was hitting that spot with every thrust, not when your vision was blurring at the edges, not when your body was tightening around him like a vice. But he didn’t relent, fingers tightening in your throat until you moaned out the only thing that mattered: "you're all mine."

"Damn right," he hissed out, his free hand sliding down to where your bodies were joined, thumb pressing hard against your clit. The dual stimulation was too much, your back arched, your thighs trembled, and then you were coming undone, your cry muffled against the couch as pleasure ripped through your in waves.

The aftershocks of your orgasm hadn't even subsided before Toji's grip on your hip tightened, his thrusts turning jagged and uneven. His fingers dug harder into your flesh, his groan a ragged, filthy thing against your skin as he buried himself deep and stayed there, hips jerking erratically as he spilled inside you with a low, satisfied moan.

For a moment, the only sounds in the apartment were their mingled panting and the faint drip of condensation from the AC unit. Then Toji's weight shifted, his body collapsing half-over yours as he caught his breath, his teeth grazing the damp skin of your shoulder in a lazy, possessive nip. you could feel him softening inside you, the heat of him pressed against your back, the rough fabric of his shirt scratching your bare skin where your top had ridden up.

"Fuck," he muttered finally, voice still rough. His hand slid from your hip to your ass, fingers splaying possessively over your skin. "You're gonna be in trouble tomorrow."

you giggled, breathless and still tinged with the edges of drunkenness, wiggling your hips just enough to make him grunt. "Not my fault you can't control yourself."

[kia-not-soul-deactivated2026042]

“How do you get inspo for your fics?!”

Me while listening to music or hearing even the smallest bit of dialogue from a movie or tv show i’m watching: