But he doesn’t falter, the forceful pound pound pound from behind shocking your system with every thrust. Instead, he grabs tighter onto your plush hips, and starts to stroke down rather than just in, compensating for the way you’ve ruined his angle by melting in his hands.
“Keep your legs up, c’mon.” He scolds, breathless, but not really annoyed.
“I have to pee!” You squeal, teetering on the edge of incoherency, while every lick of his balls to your clit goes straight to your belly.
“I don’t care.” He says quickly, thoughtlessly, and the next pound feels like punishment.
“That’s, ungh, Yuuji-” Your voice muffles when you turn into the disheveled sheets, his strokes reflexively straightening your spine, “Rude!”
“No, I mean,” One big hand comes around your front, roughly squeezing the fat of your tit, and it feels a lot like reassurance when he hoarsely growls, “I don’t care.”
s2!spencer reid x f!reader
word count: 1079
this is my first work on here so i hope people like it!!
"Shush, stop fussing. I'm only braiding your hair."
You shoot Spencer an incredulous look over your shoulder.
"You're the one who's fussing." You mutter, brushing a stray hair out of your eyes.
"I am not."
"You've restarted this braid three times."
"Because it wasn't symmetrical." He huffs, still moving his fingers through your hair.
"It's a braid, Spencer."
"Exactly."
You stare at him.
He stares back.
Somehow, he genuinely believes that explains everything. With a dramatic sigh, you settle back onto the couch and allow him to continue his mission. A mission he has taken far more seriously than anyone reasonably should.
It had started innocently enough.
You'd been sprawled across the sofa while Spencer sat beside you reading. After a particularly long week of cases, neither of you had much energy for conversation. The apartment was quiet except for the occasional turn of a page.
Then Spencer had absentmindedly started running his fingers through your hair.
And he hadn't stopped.
Twenty minutes later, he'd announced that your hair was "ideal for braiding."
Now here you were.
A captive audience.
"Hold still."
"I am holding still."
"You moved."
"I breathed."
"That's still movement."
You laugh quietly. Behind you, Spencer mutters something under his breath and carefully separates another section of hair. His fingers are surprisingly gentle.
You'd expected awkwardness. Expected him to accidentally tangle everything together. Instead, he's painstakingly careful, as if your hair is some rare historical artifact he's been entrusted to preserve.
"You've done this before."
The statement slips out before you can stop it.
Spencer pauses.
"Done what?"
"Braided hair."
"No."
"You definitely have."
"I haven't."
"Spencer..."
"I read about it."
You immediately start laughing.
Of course he did.
Of course he researched braiding.
You can practically picture it: three in the morning, unable to sleep, falling down an internet rabbit hole about the history and techniques of braids.
"I knew it."
"I was curious."
"You studied hair braiding."
"There are different techniques."
"Oh my God."
"There are."
You can hear the smile in his voice now.
"French braids, Dutch braids, fishtail braids—" He rambled on but you interrupted him quickly
"Stop."
"There are cultural variations dating back thousands of years."
"Spencer."
"I'm just saying."
You shake your head fondly.
Only Spencer Reid could turn a simple hairstyle into an academic subject.
A comfortable silence settles between you. The kind that only exists when you've known someone long enough to stop filling every moment with words. You close your eyes as his fingers continue weaving through your hair.
Slow.
Gentle.
Steady.
Somewhere in the distance, rain taps softly against the windows.
You hadn't realized how tired you were until now.
The case had been rough. One of those cases that stayed with everyone long after the paperwork was finished. The kind Spencer carried especially hard. You know he still thinks about every victim.
Every family.
Every person he couldn't save.
Sometimes you catch him staring off into space afterward, lost in thoughts he'll never fully share.
Tonight, though, he seems calmer. Lighter. Maybe because it's just the two of you.
No crime scenes.
No reports.
No nightmares waiting around the corner.
Just home.
His fingers brush the back of your neck accidentally.
A small shiver runs through you.
Immediately, he freezes.
"Sorry."
"You don't have to apologize."
"I wasn't paying attention."
"It's fine."
Another pause.
Then, more quietly, "Did I hurt you?"
The concern in his voice makes your chest tighten.
You turn slightly.
Spencer is looking at you with that familiar worried expression, eyebrows drawn together. The same look he gets whenever he thinks he might have upset you. The same look that appears no matter how many times you reassure him.
Your heart melts every single time.
"No," you say softly.
"Really?"
"Really."
His shoulders visibly relax.
"Okay."
You reach back blindly until your hand finds his knee, squeezing it gently.
The tension leaves him almost instantly.
Sometimes physical affection communicates what words can't.
"I like this."
Spencer's fingers hesitate.
"The braid?"
"You doing my hair."
For a second, neither of you speak.
Then his voice comes out surprisingly soft.
"I like it too."
Your smile grows.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
His hands resume their work.
"It's nice."
The simplicity of the answer somehow makes it more meaningful.
Because Spencer doesn't say things he doesn't mean.
Never has.
Every word is deliberate.
Every feeling carefully chosen.
When he says he likes something, he truly does.
"You know," you say, "most people don't spend their evenings conducting hair-braiding experiments."
"It's not an experiment anymore."
"Oh?"
"I've figured it out."
The confidence in his voice makes you laugh.
"Have you?"
"Yes."
"You sound very proud of yourself."
"I am."
"That's adorable."
He groans.
"I regret telling you that."
"No, you don't."
"No," he admits, "I don't."
A few moments later, his hands fall away.
"There."
"Done?"
"Done."
You immediately reach up.
Spencer catches your wrist.
"Wait."
"What?"
"I want you to see it first."
The excitement in his voice surprises you.
You turn around.
He's holding your phone.
Looking absurdly pleased with himself.
When he shows you the screen, your eyebrows rise.
The braid is actually good.
Really good.
Neat.
Even.
Far better than you expected.
"Spencer."
"I know."
"You practiced."
"I did not."
"Spencer."
His smile gives him away instantly.
You laugh so hard you nearly fall sideways on the couch.
"Unbelievable."
"It was one tutorial."
"It was absolutely more than one tutorial."
"It may have been several."
"Several."
"Eight."
You stare.
He shrugs.
"I wanted to do it properly."
The affection that rushes through you is almost overwhelming. Because that's Spencer. He never does anything halfway.
Not work.
Not learning.
Not love.
If something matters to him, he gives it everything.
And somehow, somewhere along the way, you'd become one of those things.
You reach forward and cup his face.
His smile softens immediately.
"Thank you."
A faint blush colors his cheeks.
"It was just a braid."
"No."
You brush your thumb across his cheek.
"It wasn't."
For a moment, neither of you say anything.
Then Spencer leans into your touch.
Small.
Instinctive.
Trusting.
And suddenly the braid doesn't matter at all.
Only this.
The quiet apartment.
The rain outside.
The man sitting in front of you with slightly messy curls and a shy smile. The man who learned how to braid hair simply because he thought it might make you happy.
And honestly?
You think that's the most Spencer Reid thing you've ever seen.
hi everyone! my name is sunny! I'm from Australia originally but moved to LA when I was 11!
𝚂𝙷𝙴!𝙷𝙴𝚁 ⋆ ENFP . libra . skater turned rugby player . matcha addicted . lemon sorbet . writer at heart . sunflower yellow pantone . LA . poetry & prose . dom fike on repeat . floyboy enthusiast . tate mcrae foreva . the kid LAROI . oversized hoodies . beach at sunset . bi . film camera . golden hour.
⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅
"How many warnin' signs 'til it hits you, darling?
Gravity's your friend" ✮
⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅
People I write for:
and writing boundaries (self explanatory so if you dont want to click on this then TLDR: dont be gross!)
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! PLEASE SEND THINGS IN!!
Hockey:
#sunnyshockeyfics
Luke Hughes
live now, think later
in which Luke and his childhood best friend (who also happens to be a world famous popstar) soft launch their relationship. (smau)
sweet on you
you're sick. Luke takes care of you. thats the description.
nurse's orders
a day in the life as a college student training to be a nurse. Luke... Luke sometimes needs you though.
Will Smith (hockey LOL)
check out my wsh universe!!!!!
blurbs
will after a bad game
fics:
kiss me, slow
it’s hard not to make out with your boyfriend when he’s just so pretty. and it’s even harder not to when he tells you how good you are for him.
shark boy and media girl
you're the media girl for the BC eagles!!!!!! AYYYY AND UR SECRETLY DATING WSH!!!!!! (smau)
Macklin Celebrini
nothing here yet!
Connor Bedard
nothing here yet!
Matt Rempe
nothing here yet!
Ben Kindel
kissing friends pt 2 pt 3
coming up on ben going away for a roadie, you just want to spend time with him. but... you have a little brother.
Youtube:
#sunnysyoutuberfics
Jordan Huxhold
blurbs
haunted hotel w/ jordan!
Not Yet
“five minutes” turns into an entire soft, stolen morning.
Back to Autumn
pumpkin patch date with yours truly. did I mention the measleys are there? no? well, they are!
Missed Me? part 2
Payton's cousin comes to visit from Boston. There's some tension between her and Jordan... heh...
aperol spritz
Max and Payton try to wingman Jordan. They suck, but hey, he still got the girl!
we will never ever ever be apart
two best friends go to coachella!
jawbreaker
a bald man thinks you're hot but your boyfriend doesn't want to share
forever and again
you and Jordan go on vacation together and realize just how in love you are with each other
if walls could talk
you join Jordan on Paytons channel for a visit to the Queen Mary. boy oh boy.
Attention
you're sooooooo sleepy, but Jordan is editing
BENOFTHEWEEK
nothing here yet!
Arthur Hill (should he be in my musicians category...)
Appetite
Arthur releases appetite and all signs seem to be pointing to you as his muse (smau)
Arthur Frederick
nothing here yet!
George Clarkey
nothing here yet!
Chris Dixon
nothing here yet!
Alfie Buttle
nothing here yet!
Harry Lewis
nothing here yet!
Formula One:
#sunnysf1fics
Isack Hadjar
nothing here yet!
Liam Lawson
nothing here yet!
George Russell
nothing here yet!
Kimi Antonelli
nothing here yet!
Lando Norris
nothing here yet!
Oscar Piastri
nothing here yet!
Lance Stroll
nothing here yet!
Daniel Riccardo
nothing here yet!
Ollie Bearman
nothing here yet!
Musicians:
#sunnysmusicianfics
Tate Mcrae
nothing here yet!
Dominic Fike
nothing here yet!
The Kid LAROI
all my affection
being a little artsy fartsy just so happens to work out when you have a boyfriend with a multitude of tattoos to colour in!
no shame
guys its literally thigh riding laroi. no synopsis needed.
Sunny Suljic
nothing here yet!
5sos
Calum Hood
nothing here yet!
Luke Hemmings
nothing here yet!
Michael Clifford
nothing here yet!
Ashton Irwin
nothing here yet!
The Vamps
Brad Simpson
nothing here yet!
Connor Ball
nothing here yet!
Tristan Evans
nothing here yet!
James McVey
nothing here yet!
Full Circle Boys
James Herron
nothing here yet!
Dossan Bell
nothing here yet!
Oliver Hincy
nothing here yet!
Sean Garrity
nothing here yet!
Jagger Moon
nothing here yet!
Chase Atlantic
Christian (Kras) Anthony
nothing here yet!
Mitchel Cave
nothing here yet!
Clinton Cave
nothing here yet!
Here I am working on a Severitus fanfic... I'm only a thousand or so words in, and it is going to be a struggle to continue fleshing everything out before posting because man, do I love the dopamine hit of getting a fic out there... especially for the first time in years... but this is a multi-chapter fic and therefore requires planning and forethought.
Which means I will probably be posting snippets from the draft here as teasers. I wish I could draw.
a/n: please forgive formatting I wrote and posted this on mobile lol anyways ( ˊᵕˋ )♡ read the tags pls and enjoy
18+ MDNI Please & Thank You
You walk down the hall, turning right and into the bedroom after an exhausting day. Your boyfriend lays across the room in bed, tired and half naked.
The cool air wafts around you, up the thin t-shirt you're adorning to brush over your nipples. They're hard, not that you notice. Goosebumps roll over the supple skin of your thighs and you hurry to the bed.
"Mhhh- you're finally in bed. That stupid skincare routine you have takes forever." Katsuki mumbles, adjusting himself to face you.
The blankets are warming the lower half of your body, basic black comforter trapping heat inside.
"Hey! I'll have you know, it only takes ten minutes and I'm going to look thirty when I'm FIFTY! " You bite out.
He snorts, eyes rolling before tugging you a little closer.
"You know what that means right?" His tone makes you squint. An arm drapes itself over your waste, rubbing little circles into your back.
"What?" You deadpan.
Mistake number one.
His hand snakes it's way under your Tshirt to the bare skin awaiting. The room is still cold, with a flirty breeze.
A tongue swipes over plush, pink, lips and he places a quick peck on your own. The blankets begin to rustle when he moves, hips now flush against your own.
"It means I'm going to want to fuck your pretty mouth for the rest of my damn life, darlin." Katsuki smirks, proud of himself.
You scoff.
"Oh puh-lease! You'd fuck my mouth if it was as pleasurable as a hollow piece of styrofoam."
You can hardly contain your giggles when the blonde rolls his eyes and frowns.
"Oh shut the fuck up, y/n. I would not!"
The both of you continue with playful banter for the next ten minutes before sleepiness takes over.
*:･ﾟ✧ﾟ･:**:･ﾟ✧ﾟ･:*
The next day goes with ease. Katsuki goes to work after wishing you farewell with a kiss to the forehead.
Not even an hour later you're cleaning and preparing for your own job. It's currently 7:30am and your eyelids still beg to shut. The smell of chemicals fills the air in your living room and you bid yourself a job well done.
Hot, unforgiving water rolls over your body as you pop the cap on body wash. It works your sore muscles up and down while you scrub yourself.
You quickly begin applying neutral makeup, as if only to enhance your natural features. Concealer, light foundation, a nude lip topped with gloss, and mascara.
The time reads 8:45AM and your eyes widen.
"Ope-"
You run out the door, bagel and tea in hand as you get in the car. The engine whirrs to life and you fiddle with the radio station before settling on a playlist.
When you get to work, the office is cold and stale. A stack of papers waits on your desk and you sigh before sitting on the leather chair.
Work goes smoothly but time drags on, taunting you with the invitation of your bed when you get home.
After seven grueling hours of slaving away for corporate, you finally stumble into the house.
The lock clicks behind you and your bags drop to the floor as soon as you get inside. Shoes discarded off to the side of the door as you throw what you prepped for dinner in a pan.
Preparing dinner ahead of time has been amazing for reducing food waste and costs. It doesn't take long, just throwing chicken and some sides in Ziploc bags and thawing it in the fridge. But it saves you on days like these, with aching feet and a sore head.
Katsuki gets home a little late, as you're sitting on the couch post shower in pajamas. The TV murmurs in the background while you flip through pages of a book.
Your eyes meet his own ruby orbs, lashes fluttering. The poor thing looks exhausted. Content, yes, but tired.
"Hey baby" You greet, padding across the vinyl floor to give him a peck on the cheek. Your fingers rub over his chest and down his tummy.
"'M kinda dirty right now lovey, I know you'l prolly already showered." He sighs into a kiss. His hand rests on your waist, thumb pressing into the soft skin exposed from lifting.
And it's true, there's dirt and grime smudged on his face and arms. His uniform looks battered.
He quickly kicks off his shoes and places them to the side with your own.
"Mmm.. Let me start the shower for you." You murmur, pulling away.
His hand drops from your waist and his arms stretch above his head.
You quickly turn on the hot water, waiting for him to follow behind you and begin undressing. Grabbing a lavender scented shower melt and tossing it into the bottom.
Lifting your torso to stand completely and turn around, you're met with a half naked Bakugou with his back to you.
He tosses everything into the laundry bin and begins pulling off his socks. Then go his pants, dropping to the tiled floor.
Bakugou's forearm rests on the bathroom counter, other hand reaching to snatch his bottoms from around his ankles.
Your eyes drop to his ass, admiring it as he stands. His ass is plush, round and firm. All the deadlifts and hip thrusts he does in the gym pay off tremendously.
He turns around and you hear a laugh when your eyes snap back up to his grinning face.
"Like what you see, dumbass?" Katsuki smirks, closing the distance between you too.
"Oh you know I damn well do." Your hands reach around his abdomen to grab at his firm bottom.
Lavender fills the room and you sigh, watching as he rolls his eyes.
You press a quick kiss to his chest, pat his butt and separate. He strolls toward the running water, pulling the door open and entering the steaming glass shower.
Leaving the bathroom to give him some space, you begin heating up dinner for him. While that circles through the microwave, you begin flicking through all the streaming services to find something he'll enjoy.
There's a new viking-esque show that seems interesting and to his liking. You had your time to indulge in Rick & Morty while he worked, so it's only fair.
A beep travels through your ears and after pressing the pause button, you stretch your limbs out. The Tshirt and shorts your in are more than comfortable, light and relaxing.
Quickly, you pull the simmering food from the microwave. Coconut chicken, rice, and asparagus were often a fan favorite of his. The meal came to be after many searches through Pinterest foodie boards, when you'd decided to experiment one night.
Thin fingers wrap around the freezer handle and you grab a coconut popsicle as a quick treat.
You place it on the black living room table and plop onto the couch, popsicle in hand.
Katsuki trudges in wearing grey sweats, sitting beside you and snatching his plate off of the table to eat. He presses a kiss to the side of your face, thanking you.
A man on the television screams, stomping towards the other very angry man. The two begin arguing, speaking of trades.
Cool air drifts over your legs and you shiver, grabbing the throw blanket set off to the other side of the couch. You scoot closer on the soft grey couch to your boyfriend, whom is gobbling food down like a mad man.
"What's this?" He asks, looking at the television.
"Mmm I thought you might like it. There's vikings." Your pink tongue laps at the popsicle, eyes trained on the screen.
"Hell yeah, how was work today?" Katsuki asks, shoving the last asparagus spear in his mouth.
"T'was okay as always. I'm a little tired of paperwork but otherwise nothing eventful came to be. You?" Your tongue slides up the side of the cream-coloured treat to slurp up excess coconut milk.
Bakugou stands, sauntering over to the kitchen, where he places his plate in the dishwasher on instinct. He gulps down the rest of his water.
You feel the couch dip and his skin pressed against your side. A thick forearm wraps around your middle as you lean into his touch. Your eyes are still trained on the screen, licking at the popsicle without thought.
"Same, honestly. My muscles are a bit sore though." He says.
The screen now shows a bunch of women and men, chanting and lifting glasses in what appears to be a bar.
"I'll have to give you a massage tonight then." You state.
Bakugou's eyes are trained on your face, watching you lap at the popsicle in your mouth, sucking. It disappears in your mouth, white drops of flavoring and coconut milk pooling at the corners of your lips.
He feels the room begin to heat up, cock beginning to twitch in his pants. Oh, boy. You're going to be the death of him.
You turn towards him, looking up at him with big doe eyes. You pull the popsicle out of your mouth and give him a confused look. A bead of coconut milk drips from the corner of your mouth.
Katsuki feels hot. Hot and heavy. His mind is going blank, all he can think about is your innocent eyes staring into him while he watches you lick at your lips.
His mouth presses to yours with vigor, just enough pressure to startle you. His tongue swipes over the corner of your mouth to take in the liquid before he pushes it between your lips.
You kiss back softly, submitting to his movements, coconut popsicle damn near forgotten. His hand reaches to your thigh, where he digs his fingers into the flesh there.
A coat of damp sweat begins to blanket over his skin. Your mouth tastes so good, so sweet. Lips soft and pliant against his own.
He pulls back -"god"- before he dives into your mouth again. This time he pulls you into his lap, you whimper, and his cock twitches underneath his sweats.
You break away, "'suki m popsicle is melting" you mutter out. Lips now plump from being nibbled and toyed with. His fingers are pressing into your ass, having slid under your loose shorts.
Katsuki looks and sure enough, there's cream or whatever the hell is in that popsicle dripping down your fingers. There's not much of it left, though.
"Finish the rest really quick." He says, taking the stick out of your hand and pushing it into your mouth. You swallow down the rest, hand still wet and sticky with sugar and coconut milk.
He tosses the stick to the side and you can feel how hard he is pressing in between your folds. If you roll your hips, it'll push against your clit and just feel so-
Katsuki grabs your hand, thumb on your palm and the rest of his fingers wrap around your wrist. He takes your fingers into his mouth and sucks.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
It's hotter than it should be. Ruby eyes stare into yours, tongue lapping the last bits of white liquid off of of your fingers.
"You've been such a good girl." He murmurs.
The room is suddenly ten degrees hotter, your breath quickening.
His tongue is in your mouth in a flash, hands now roaming up and down your body as your own take purchase on his chest. He's so thick and firm and hot up and down.
Katsuki always smells of salted caramel and vanilla cookies. He always feels so good. You begin grinding your pussy down on his clothed cock. A moan bubbles in your throat, threatening to escape between hot and sticky kisses.
Your thumb brushes over his nipple and his cock jumps when you push down harder. Your clit feels like electricity just shot through it and traveled through your body.
Katsuki can hardly think.
Really. You're beginning to soak through your flimsy shorts and letting out muffled little whimpers when he grips a little harder in certain areas. He takes time to lick his way up and down your neck, crooning to the side to bite and suck.
That really begins to do it.
Your hips get frantic, you no longer care how loud you are. He can feel how wet you are through his sweats and his own precum is slick and dampening them.
You push down harder and jerk back.
He lets out a moan. It's rough and strained and his hands begin to guide you and keep your soaked pussy pressed against him the entire time.
"Oh fuck- god, god, god- haaahh-" You whimper.
"You're so fucking slick and needy for me princess." He murmurs between kisses.
His thick hand slides up your torso to your throat, squeezing at the sides. Your head begins to loll to the side, hair messy and lips damn near bruising now.
"Daddy I need- I need-" You start, gripping hard on his shoulders pushing harder in search of release.
His cock is so hard it fucking hurts now. A bead of precum just slid down his dick and he's watching you fall apart without his hand even near your heat.
You feel as if someone's got you strung up by a single thread, hanging in the air waiting to be released to fall into the abyss. And fuck, he's so pretty.
The back of your head stings a little and you realize with excitement he just tugged your hair at the roots. You're so fucking high on this and he knows it, too.
"Needy slut."
A hand comes down with a crash onto your right ass cheek, other keeping your hips steady. It quickly goes back to your throat where you go back to feeling heavy and like you're walking on fucking clouds.
Your hips kick forwards and you let out this wet, filthy whine. You hear him muttering expletives while your folds soak his sweatpants in slick.
The friction just feels so good.
And Katsuki knows you're starting to get close when your fingers begin to shake.
"Fuck, princess. You're so fucking good. So good. Such a needy slut for me. All mine." He half whispers half moans, hand reaching for the back of your head.
Lips crash onto yours, teeth clash, and he bites your lower lip. The sting from your hair being pulled makes you whine and grip him harder.
You're trying so hard to keep it in, not to cum. You know you shouldn't without permission.
And just like that, he makes you fall apart.
"Be a good girl and cum for me baby." He mutters, left hand still on your hips while the other travels to push into your mouth.
You coat his fingers in spit and suck as hard as you can before nodding frantically.
It hits you like a fucking wave, your head drops back, and he catches it while your thighs quake and quiver. Your entire body pulls into itself and drool begins to froth at the corner of your lips.
Sweat beads down your forehead and back, your thighs are sticky and hot and uncomfortable and you whine through it.
"Shhh.. good girl, you're doing so good." He kisses up and down your neck and face while your eyes are rolling back.
The shaking stops, and , he's whispering that he'll be right back, laying you on your chest on the couch. The sofa is all too comfortable but your pussy won't stop convulsing and clenching and everything just feels so limp and fuzzy.
"I'm back princess." Katsuki whispers, and begins helping you sit up on your knees.
The collar wraps around your throat. It's black and a small chain dangles. At the end, "Katsuki" is engraved into a small, metal oval that hangs off a ring. The back clicks together, with a little heart that requires a key to unlock it.
You whine and he chuckles.
His cock strains against his grey sweats, now dark in the center from the both of you being filthy and all over eachother.
You tilt your head back to look at him, lips glossy and eyes spacy. He gives you a quick kiss before laying you on your chest on the couch.
His fingers grip the inside of your shorts and he yanks them down, pulling them off your body and tossing them to the side.
"Fuck- babe- god you look so wet." He groans, palming his erection.
Your ass is straight up in the air, wiggling side to side as he chuckles and slaps your ass. Your fists are balled up near your head, turned to the side while you stare into space and wait.
His fingers push between your folds and coat themselves with your juices. You're so sensitive. It feels so good and he's hardly even touched you.
"Yes, fuck, you're soaking." He whispers, thrusting two fingers inside of you. He begins pumping them in and out, muttering praises and you feel his lips press against the curve of your ass.
"Daddy you're being mean!" You whimper out, pushing your hips back, frustrated.
"Don't be a needy fucking whore, princess." He grits out, placing a harsh slap against your already red ass cheek.
"Ohh- oh fuck- m sorry m sorry!" You moan, spit leaking onto the couch. Your eyes and ass both sting at the contact. Surely it's going to hurt to sit tomorrow.
"M gonna fuck these pretty thighs, gonna make a fucking mess of you." He says, and you hear him pump his cock a few times.
Katsuki's mind is fuzzy, just as high on you as you are on him. His fingers continue gathering slick, wet juices all over them before he pulls them out.
He rubs your clit in little circles for aoment to watch you clench down, overstimulated. Your hips rut forward and he watches your tongue sweep over your lips.
You're so pretty like this, he thinks, and probably says outloud. He can't help it. Your ass is a little raw from the spanking, pussy leaking down your thighs and sticking to everything. The collar has always looked so good on you, always suiting you so well. He loves watching you.
After throwing his pants to God only knows where, he pushes his cock between your thighs and lets out a slutty moan. He licks one of his fingers and then shoves them into your mouth. Chest pressed over your back as he slips between your folds.
You moan, sucking on them, cleaning them off for him like a good girl.
"Shit." He moans, cock slipping in and out of your folds as he fucks your thighs.
You're squirming under him, you can feel it pushing against your clit and sliding between your thighs over and over. It feels so good, being wanted by him. You want his thick throbbing dick to fill you to the brim.
"God, you always feel so- so fucking good."
You push your hips back and forth and he starts feeling electricity ignite across his skin like tiny fireworks.
Little "oh"s tumble from your lips while he tries to keep sanity in his line of sight. It's so hard, with your pussy coating him in such a warm, wet substance. You always taste so sweet on his tongue and he longs for that high again.
He grips your thighs, palms heating up a little, and opens them wider.
Katsuki pulls his cock from between your supple skin and palms at your ass, diving his face into you.
His tongue laps at your clit and slips inbetween the crevice of your lips. Sucking and gathering everything he can.
You moan louder, thighs spreading and closing, pussy clenching.
"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop-" You force out, feeling that familiar pool of heat in your belly.
He pulls away, flips you over on your back before you can complain and starts shoving his cock inside you.
It's so thick. It always is. He's slow, gentle about it. You know how much restraint he's using by his furrowed brows and rolled back eyes.
His head lolls forward, forehead touching your own. He licks his lips one, two, three times. Soft, bruised lips meet your own before you hear him.
"Such a good girl- fuck- always so good for me. One more baby, you can do it I promise." Katsuki moans out, gently rolling his hips to adjust you.
Your hands find themselves on his back, nails dragging down. His hands adjust your legs, calves thrown over his shoulders now. His chest is to yours, now fully flush and to the hilt inside you.
Your minds go blank, falling into the madness of pleasure that wraps around the both of your bodies. Lips find their way all over your face, peppering you in pecks.
And then he moves.
Head of his cock pressing against your gspot. It's too much, he's too warm. He's too good. It hurts. It feels amazing. You're fucking losing your mind.
Your hands slam to the couch, gripping the coushion and the stupid throw blanket. You feel the need to rip everything and throw it.
He's pumping into you, moaning. His voice is so pretty.
Katsuki is so goddamn pretty. He's so fucking pretty. All muscle and smooth skin and and-
Fuck.
"Oh God, take it, take it, takeittakeittakeit. Goddamn whore, princess, such a good girl." He spits, no longer thinking. His voice pitch is getting higher.
Thrusts becoming more frantic, you take this as your chance to be bad. Even if it does feel better than anything you've ever felt.
You reach, wrapping your hand around his throat, squeezing gently. His hips stutter in response.
"My turn." You moan out.
Somehow, you manage to get the upper hand. He puts up a mild struggle, but you get your legs around his middle, flipping the both of you over as you start bouncing on his cock.
He's searching for something to grab onto now. One hand wraps around his throat, rhythmically clutching and releasing grasp. Just enought o keep him fucked out and off in a daze.
"Oh- hhmnnn fuck baby-"
You giggle a little inside, his thick member pushing against every sweet spot you have. Loud squelching, filthy noises fill the room with clapping.
One of your hands runs up his abs and to his chest. Nimble fingers reach for a nipple and begins rubbing in circles and pulling lightly.
He gasps, eyes flying shut as his head hits the grey fabric. Hips bucking up into yours. You notice his hands shaking.
"You're such a naughty boy for me. You like being choked huh" You murmur in his ear, slowing down into a nice gentle grind.
Katsuki nods frantically, spitting something jumbled that sounds like "I'll be good". He's chewing on his bottom lip, making light whimper and desperate gasps while you continue to toy with his nipples.
"Princess- fucking brat- m gonna cum." He groans out.
You speed up, bouncing and pinching harder. Shoving a thumb into his mouth for him to lick and suck on is his undoing.
White thick cum spills inside you and fills you to the tippy top as he moans out curse words and praises. It spills out of you, forming a frothy ring at the base of his cock and you whine and hump your cunt on him.
"Oh fuck- yes- fill me daddy. Fuck, oh fuck-"
You're on your back. It happens before you can blink.
His cock is still throbbing, cum making everything louder. It leaks from your pussy to your asshole as he starts pounding into you.
A firm hand comes down onto your ass, slap ringing through the living room.
"You fucking whore." He grits, free hand going to rub rough circles on your clit. He speeds up, quickening his pace, angling his hips up.
The collar is jingling with every bounce of your tits. Every thrust he makes brings a grasp or moan from your lips.
The world stops momentarily.
Your pussy wraps around him so tightly it almost hurts. Your body is wrapped into a cocoon of blank space. Almost as if you are a blank piece of paper.
When you come back to planet earth, he's already pulled out of you. Peppering light kisses up and down your body.
You feel his arms up under you and suddenly you're limp and off the couch.
"Shhh, it's okay baby."
You mumble something and hear him chuckle. Your back is slowly placed onto the sheets of your bed.
The bed dips and you look over, starting to come back to your senses. Bakugou is in a new pair of sweats, laying directly beside you and watching you.
His hand smooths over your your tummy and you roll, curling into his chest. He presses a kiss on top of your head.
"Miss you-" you murmur, pressing your face into his chest further, arm wrapped around his waist.
"I'm right here, dumbass. Do you want to take a bath with me or just sleep?" He whispers against the top of your head, fingers rubbing circles into your back.
"Neither. Cuddles."
You feel his chest vibrate as he laughs.
"Okay baby. You know how much I love you, right? You know I don't think of you as a whore or a slut. You're so pretty. I love you." He murmurs, gently working your muscles.
"Mhmmm! I love you too bunny." You mumble, pressing your fingers into him to dig knots out aswell.
Your hand travels to his ass cheek, where you give it a firm squeeze.
"God I love your butt! It's so nice and soft and firm."
His fingers dig into you a little harder, but he relaxes into your touch regardless.
"Oh I know you do princess, I know you do. Are you doing okay? Would you like some water?"
You shake your head no but thank him for his thoughtfulness. Instead, you roll over and grab the tv remote. He's already turned the TV in the other room off, thank fuck.
"Baby, you need to go pee. You're going to get a UTI otherwise." He says, brow raised.
You huff but do as told. When you come back, there's water beside the bed regardless and you notice a bottle of lotion on his nightstand.
You flop back onto the bed beside him, having found a large shirt of his to get comfortable in.
"Wanna watch anime?" You bring the doe eyes out again, pouting. Your hair sticks up in all kinds of ways that will be hell to get unknotted in the morning.
He has tomorrow off, so you know he'll help in the shower. Part of you giggles at the red and blue splotches all over him from kisses and sex.
"Of fucking course, soft shit or do you wanna watch horror?" He asks, turning towards the screen.
You pick horror, for whatever reason, knowing you'll get to make him watch SpongeBob with you afterwards. The screen comes to life and you curl into his side.
Through the night, you take turns massaging eachother up and down. Talking about clothing you want to buy, house decor, among other things.
You make him watch cartoons after the horror anime. Everything about him screams happiness at the end of the night. Relaxed face, soft features and even breathing.
New fic just dropped!! I'm really proud of this one. If you read it, please tell me what you think!! I have a three part series planned, but it helps to think people might actually want a continuation.
(just an excerpt, the rest is only on AO3)
The Process of Forgetting
The Promise
"S-Swear it!" Stuttered a boy in a dingy flannel shirt. The other six children sitting around him looked and listened as if anything he said could be the most important thing any of them would ever hear. He held a shining shard of broken glass over his head as he stood. "Sw-swear that i-if it ever comes back, we'll come back too."
One by one, each child stood up with him. They watched, as he slowly and deeply cut across his palm with the glass, whimpering, but never stopping.
One by one he approaches the children and cuts their hands. First, a boy with wild black hair and coke bottle glasses. He cried out and shook his hand, trying to will away the pain, but snapped to attention when the next boy's hand was taken. The boy next to him was the smallest of any of the other kids in the group, and he had a broken arm. He couldn't look as his hand was slashed, but the bespectacled boy stroked his arm to comfort him, trying to ignore the pain in his own hand.
Each of the other children let him deeply open their hands without a single objection. The power that the boy held was palpable. He could suck all of the air out of the space while all of the attention snapped to him and his mission statement.
The ring of children stood, hands interlocked, as though they were a circuit or a delicately woven ring of flowers. They were covered head to toe in dirt, blood dripping all over them from the cuts on their hands, their eyes shining with adrenaline and determination. They had seen something no child should ever have to see. They did things no child should be expected to do. Their grips tightened, all together like one single breathing organism.
It went without saying. They swore. They made a blood oath to each other. To that stuttering boy they all adored. To themselves. They would be back. If It ever returned they'd be ready.
Bev: The First Gone
Beverly Marsh had experienced so much in her life. More than any young girl should ever have to. She palled around with a group of six boys that she adored, but that could never understand what she was going through, not really. There was one trauma they all shared and she was grateful she could talk to them about that, but she was hiding something from them.
The boys had their suspicions. They all loved Beverly and wanted her to be happy and healthy, and she was good at pretending, for a while. She couldn't keep up the "cool girl that doesn't need help from anyone" act for forever though. She was drowning. Every forced laugh was a fight to keep her head above water. She was beginning to sink. Better to sink than to float, she'd tell herself with a bitter laugh.
They'd noticed things, at first they were simple questions, simple observations.
One day Ben said to her, "Geez, how'd you get that bruise? It looks like it really hurts." She brushed it off as a fall from her bike.
Eddie would lecture her on proper bike safety with his silly little Sesame Street full safety pad set. He didn't even wear them once his mom stopped watching. The second Richie teased them he'd be tripping over himself to get them off. He insisted on bandaging her cuts and bruises. Once he gave them a strange look and then his eyes locked with Bev's. She held her breath because she thought this is it. But no, Eddie just patched her up without another word. It was funny because she thought if anyone would understand, it would be Eddie. His evil mom made his life hell. Though, sometimes Eddie would defend her. Say she wasn't that bad. She does these things because she loves him. I do these things because I love you Bevvy.
Richie would make tasteless jokes because of course, he was Richie. "Why does your dad care so much about what the fuck you do? Is he in love with you or something? Eddie's mom is in love with me, you know? Did'ya know that?" Then he'd snort-laugh and make kissy noises at Eddie, who sat next to him in the hammock of their secret clubhouse. All of them moved in slow motion while Bev's blood ran cold and her stomach turned. She knew that wasn't what Richie meant, yet she still felt in that moment like they could see through her skin down to her deepest darkest secrets.
She knew that if she was bent any further she'd break. Eventually there would be a joke she couldn't laugh off or a bruise she couldn't lie her way out of and the older she got, the angrier she got. Angry at herself for protecting her father, angry at her father for looking at her like no father should ever look at their daughter, for robbing her of a childhood. What the clown left for her, her father gleefully stole away. Mad at her friends for not figuring it out even when she thought it was obvious. Sometimes she'd wonder if they did know, but just thought it wasn't that big of a deal. That she was being dramatic. Mad at herself again for ever thinking something like that about her best friends, the closest thing she had to a real family.
One day, enough truly was enough. Beverly was 15-years-old and she decided she couldn't live another day as "daddy's little girl". She was going to fight and claw and bite even if it killed her, and she knew it might. She knew that her father didn't have any problem hurting her when he didn't get his way. If she had anything to say about it, her father would never have his way again.
When she was admitted to the hospital, her horrible secret was out. Her father was taken away, her aunt was called to take her in, and her boys? Well, her boys looked at her with an emotion they'd never looked at her with before, and it was one she hated on each of their faces. Pity. Like they didn't know how to act around her anymore, like she was some broken toy, and it was the worst feeling she'd ever experienced, seeing them look at her like that. And Beverly Marsh had a lifetime of shitty experiences to pull from.
Nothing was ever the same again. Beverly had a few weeks left in Derry, her aunt was staying with her long enough for them to get everything together for the move, and she knew she'd miss every last one of those boys fiercely. The grief of losing them felt like it would be enough to stop her heart, but she didn't get the goodbye she would have wanted. She wanted normalcy, but those last weeks were anything but.
Richie, her fellow goof-off smoke buddy couldn't even look her in the eye. All of them seemed afraid to touch her. Like she was made of glass. Like they were afraid now that it would somehow remind her of all the ways she never wanted to be touched, but it wasn't like that. Bev was comforted by the touch of her friends. This was a time when she needed that comfort the most.
Ben talked to her the most normally out of anyone. Though, he couldn't shake the sadness in his voice. "I'm - We're all gonna miss you like crazy." He said to her one night in the clubhouse.
A smile crept onto her face, "Oh come on, you know I'm gonna write. And call of course for the illiterate." She gets in close to whisper. "Richie."
"Really, Bev. If Richie's illiterate, what are we? He has better grades than any of us." Ben was obviously a little annoyed by this fact.
"Pretty impressive, seeing as how he's illiterate." She retorted with a wicked grin.
They both laugh together, their heads close, and it's the most normal she's felt since the day it all fell apart. The good warm feeling was stolen away when Ben seemed to notice how close they were and awkwardly moved away.
"Sorry." He said.
She released a long sigh. "It's fine. Really. I'm still the same Beverly that I always was."
Ben smiled a sad smile that told Bev all she needed to know. "Promise you'll write me?"
"Of course! I know how much you like all that old fashioned cheesy shit. You'll probably write me with a quill pen and send it via carrier pigeon."
His smile at that was genuine, if a bit shy. "Maybe I will."
"I hope you do!" She changed it, throwing herself forward and pulling him into a hug. "I'm gonna miss you too."
On the day that she moved, all of her boys came to see her off. There wasn't a dry eye between them, even Stan, who she'd never seen cry before. It might not have looked like he was crying to the untrained eye, but she could tell. They all hugged in a giant group hug that mimicked their positions in the blood soaked promise. This was a promise of sorts too. A promise that, even though they'll be apart, they're still the Losers Club.
"The Losers Club will rise again!" She shouted into the air. Sealing the promise to the universe. The boys erupted into a sea of cheers. "No one can keep me away from you boys for long. You're my family." Ben went awkward and red at that comment, and she planted a kiss on his cheek. The rest of them were a chorus of ooooos and she shook her head fondly.
She waved at them all with big exaggerated movements, her head hanging out the window.
"You better fucking call, Marsh, or I'll single handedly find you and kick your ass!" Richie shouted, then Eddie punched him in the arm. The two boys were standing a little closer than anyone else, as usual.
Bev beamed. "You couldn't keep me away if you tried, Tozier!" She kept her head out the window, hair blowing in the wind, until her boys were specs on the horizon.
Bev: The Forgetting
It started with small things. One day, her aunt would ask her to tell her stories about where she grew up, her friends, her school, and she would answer eagerly. Any chance to relive her best memories with her best boys, but very quickly things changed. Too quickly even, like a fog rolled in overnight. It wasn't long at all. The first week back, drafting a handful of letters, she started to forget their names. Just faces playing over and over again in her mind. She'd read the letters she started writing, and had no idea what she was talking about. It was like she was writing a story. She had no connection to the memories the letters described, and the letters had no addresses. Not even names, just titles, like Trashmouth and New Kid. It was weird. She'd never been much of a writer. At least, she thought she'd never been much of a writer.
She started at her new highschool and found that she blossomed. They would ask even simple questions like "Where did you grow up?" Or "Tell me about your family." She never had good answers. If people asked about her family she mentioned her aunt.
Her aunt was worried about her. Beverly would ask her things like, "What was the name of the town I grew up in?" or "What happened to my dad?" and she would just scrunch up her face and look at her with those pitying eyes that Bev hated. She couldn't stand to be pitied.
Her aunt put her in therapy a month after she moved in with her, and her therapist told her that she suffered from severe repressed memories and night terrors because of the awful trauma she experienced. The trauma she had no memory of and no one would really talk to her about. She supposed that filled in the blanks. The empty parts of Bev. Spacey Beverly Marsh. She repressed her past because of some fucking traumatic memories she couldn't even remember, so she could just deal with them.
Eventually she stopped worrying about the lost memories. She was making plenty of great new memories with her aunt and her amazing friends, but Bev couldn't help but feel like she was missing a big chunk of her heart. A space she just couldn't seem to fill no matter what she tried putting there. She still woke up screaming every once in a while. Not nearly as frequently as when she first arrived. Her therapist told her she was healing.
She was told that someday she may even get back her lost memories, but she couldn't help but sit up in her bed when she woke up from her terrifyingly real nightmares and think, are any of these things in my dreams actually memories? Her therapist told her that the clown monster that haunted her nightmares was probably some kind of metaphor for something, but the blurry faces of smiling little boys stuck with her. She always felt like she wanted to be smiling with them too.
Beverly was known to take on life like a bull by the horns. Fiery and passionate. This passion was noticed by a man named Tom Rogan. He was drawn to it like he was a moth and her red hair was a flame that he danced around. They both had an interest in design. Beverly had a talent and drive that was otherworldly. He had to have her. So he took her. All of her.
They started a clothing line together and were married.
Beverly felt strangely at home with him. Especially when he was cruel. She didn't like it. She hated it when he got like that, but it was familiar. She always told herself that it wasn't so bad. That he loved her, he just got mad sometimes. Something about him connected her to her past and she couldn't seem to let that go.
Her best friend, Kay, didn't agree. She saw Tom like a boiling pot. No matter how much it was watched, if it was left to boil, it would overflow. She was terrified of what might happen.
yay! its finally christmas time. this is my sumbission for @djwifidecember. its a royal au where alya is a princess and nino is her bodyguard.
day 2
———
“Princess Alya! Are you alright?” Nino exclaimed, bursting into the royal bedroom. He had rushed from the training quarters, leaving behind his commander, who had seemed very angry at him for constantly disappearing from sparring. But instead of an intruder or the room being aflame like he had expected, there was only the princess sitting in the middle of the bed, simply brushing her hair.
“Oh, hey Nino,” the princess said, continuing to remove a tangle from her hair.
“No, don’t ‘Hey Nino’ me! You said this was an emergency!” Nino groaned, though a hint of a smile could be seen behind his annoyance.
“This is an emergency!” Princess Alya proclaimed, pointing to her hair. In it, was a small piece of sap, that resulted in a huge tangle that she was furiously trying to brush out. She held out a brush. “Can you help me brush it out?”
“This seriously isn’t my job, princess. You’re only supposed to call me if you’re dying or being attacked or something.” Nino sighed, thinking of how his commander would kill him if he stayed, but reluctantly took the brush and sat behind her, beginning to untangle the knot. Her hair was soft, and Nino began to gently stroke her hair, teasing the tangle out, and a smile made a way onto his face.
“As a member of the royal guard, it is your duty to keep me safe from all threats, including dangerous tree sap that’s stuck in my hair. What if it’s poisoned?” the princess said, gesturing wildly. Now her head was on his lap as he ran the brush through her hair.
Nino laughed at that. “It’s definitely not poisoned. Wait, how did you get tree sap in your hair?”
At that, Alya paled almost imperceptibly. “My sisters?”
Nino raised an inquisitive eyebrow looked over to the cracked open window. “Normally I would believe that, but you’re such a bad liar.” At that Alya scoffed, but Nino continued, “Did you go into the city to that bakery place?”
“So what if I did?” She said playfully, though there was a hint of worry in her voice.
“You shouldn’t leave the castle on your own, it’s dangerous. But as long as no one catches you, you’ll be fine.” Nino said, continuing to work on the knot diligently.
“Did anyone catch me?” the princess asked curiously, looking up into the normally stoic guard’s playful eyes.
Nino smirked. “Not that I know of.”
The princess beamed, glad her secret was safe. She knew she could trust her Nino, he felt more like family than her bodyguard. “It’s not my fault I keep leaving, my parents are driving me crazy! They keep lining me up with suitors, but I don’t even want to get married to any of them.”
Nino scoffed at that. “No way any of those self-obsessed princes would be able to keep up with your family.” There was a long pause.
“Well, you can,” Alya said softly, but just loud enough so Nino could hear.
“I can what?” he asked. The knot in her hair was now untangled, and her hair was glowing in the orange light filtering through the window.
“You can keep up with my family. You know everyone’s birthday by heart, you can somehow put my sisters to bed when they’re super mischievous, you let Nora spar with you even though she basically crushes you every time. When I’m being really rash you can always calm me down. You can keep up with my family better than any of those princes ever could.” Alya continued to stare up at the ceiling, not daring to look at Nino, whose entire face was a bright red. “I wouldn’t mind marrying you,” she added softly.
Nino’s eyes softened as he looked at the girl before him. “I wouldn’t mind marrying you either.”
There they sat, in comfortable silence, watching the sunset through the window. And well, even if his commander yelled at him, it would definitely be worth it.
