CYBER

a work of art ❤︎

in which sukuna is completely enamoured with your new attire ⊹ fem!reader ⋮ fluff + suggestive ＼ 1.7k words

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀your husband had been rather busy with his noble duties — which simply meant being occupied by demolishing and terrorising the nearby village peoples for their lax worship towards both him and yourself and doing his best to create some alliances with other powerful curses, as per your request. thus you'd been left alone for the last few days by yourself to the confines of the majestic shrine, the sole company of yours being uraume.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀you were really beginning to miss his presence — your chambers were now always so much quieter without his loud snoring reverberating against the four walls; the halls sounded empty without his booming footsteps echoing everywhere; any outings were so boring without his incessant complaining behind your back（even though he'd help you pick out whatever it was the moment you asked him and would blithely carry all the bags for you.）

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀to clear your mind and hopefully distract yourself from all of this, you decided to have yourself a lavish bath. it had been quite some time you'd done so, the last time being with sukuna for your anniversary a few months ago . . though the state of the powder room left a lot up for deliberation on whether or not the pair of you had actually got clean in any which way.

true form!sukuna comforts you when you cry about your weight ♡

angst/ fluff - part of my true form!sukuna x his favourite chubby concubine series. more here

you’re curled up in bed, face buried in your pillow in attempt to silence your pitiful sobs.

you felt stupid. pathetic. you’d heard a couple of the other concubines talking in the hallway five minutes prior, saying how they ‘don’t understand why sukuna favours you’ — then following that up with a series of distasteful comments about your weight.

you wish it hadn’t bothered you, but was there a chance they could be right? why does sukuna favour you? you’re not thin, or particularly special — what did he see in you?

before you can dwell any further, heavy footsteps close in, the doors of your chamber swinging open with force.

sukuna knew exactly how to make an entrance.

you keep your face buried in your pillow, trying to silence yourself to avoid embarrassment.

"woman. what are you doing," sukuna asks, crossing two of his meaty arms over his chest, narrowing his primary set of eyes in confusion.

"…it’s nothing," you sniffle, "i just need to be alone."

sukuna scoffs at your request, closing the distance between you almost instantly, now hovering over you. “look at me."

you knew sukuna wasn’t asking — he was telling. yet you just couldn’t allow him to see you like this, vunerable and ‘weak.’

"…no," you mumble, voice quiet and feeble.

without wasting another second, he reaches between you and the pillow, gripping your chin and turning your face to the side. his grip softens almost immediately after seeing your sad, red eyes, stray tears still trickling down your blotchy face.

more tears begin to fall as sukuna looks down on you, your mind beginning to race worrying what he’d think of you for emitting such ‘pathetic human emotions.’

yet he doesn’t ridicule you, just stares almost uncomfortably — like he doesn’t know quite what to do.

you begin to sob more.

"tsk…" he hisses quietly, gathering you in his big arms, sitting down on your bed and cradling you as gently as he knows how.

you cry against his broad chest, held by all four of his arms. "m’sorry," you cry, wetting his robes with your tears.

"i do not want an apology. i want to know who has reduced you to tears," he says, knowing all too well that you wouldn’t cry over nothing.

as much as you resented the harsh words from the other concubines, you didn’t wish death on them. you knew their fate wouldn’t be pretty if sukuna knew.

“…am i not good enough for you?" you weep, "or too heavy?"

sukuna flashes you the most confused, stunned look. "what are you talking about, woman," he says, one hand beginning to subconsciously rub your back.

"if either were true, i would not allow you to be blubbering on me like an infant," sukuna adds.

"so you don’t think i’m too heavy?…" you sniffle, looking up at him with bloodshot, glassy eyes.

sukuna almost laughs.

"are you suggesting i’m weak?" he questions, standing up with ease, securing you with only one arm just to prove a point. sukuna didn’t believe in a woman being ‘heavy’, in fact, he deemed any man who can’t handle a bigger woman weak and pathetic.

message received.

"your body is…" he pauses, forcing hos words out, still learning how to compliment you. "…perfection," he continues.

you stop crying, a faint smile appearing on your face — similar to a rainbow after a harsh storm.

"thank you, kuna" you smile, leaning your head against his chest once more, exhausted from crying your heart out.

he doesn’t respond, just holds you against him, wondering how you could think so low of yourself. you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid his eyes on, after all.

a/n; ended up finishing this at 4am cus i couldn’t sleep LMAO

taglist: @teajus-world @lua-1201 @electrifiedmachinesage @susulmmyy @sukubusss @maggieeewe @sailormarsinanotherlife @blueberry-mufin @bugbugs-212 @enjinswif3 @zeeseekay @tokyolhtl @y8zuriha @mentallyillwhore @xseraphimx27 @kitchen-cryptid @sanzusdollie @hi-tec @brookylnbbxo @nikiswifeyy @justagirllllllllll @deadandhorny @higu-toast @teapartydreams @queenkay6 @thegirlwhowaited5everok @hornylittlesimp @satorusdreamgirl @flvvffy @ubematchalatiff @xeniiisworld @badbadideas @filthybunny420 @nanamissweetgirl

husband!Sukuna is the type to actually wake up at 6 am just to feed your clumsy little cat, who somehow prefers him over you (she thinks Sukuna is her big biological cat mother).

husband!Sukuna is the type to pretend to be full when you’re eyeing his food at the restaurant, just to hunt down the fridge later at 3 am and finish all your meal prep for the week. 

husband!Sukuna is the type to pick you up by the waist in a large crowd and hold you that way for a few moments, just so you can see what’s happening in the front. 

husband!Sukuna is the type to pretend he’s getting annoyed by you tracing his tattoos, but he secretly loves it so much that he finds excuses to want a ‘massage’ just to have your hands on him after a long day at work.

husband!Sukuna is the type to flick your forehead when you’re disturbing his sleep, just to plant a peck on the spot right after you glare at him.

husband!Sukuna is the type to bring home a random assortment of Lush bath bombs ‘for you’, just to find an excuse to use the extra ones himself.

husband!Sukuna is the type to stare at your face, looking up like a little puppy for the entire hour you’re helping him touch up his roots because he loves getting pampered.

husband!Sukuna is the type who walks around at home wearing only boxers, to the point that the neighbour from the opposite building never opens their curtains anymore.

husband!Sukuna is the type to trigger your anger because he knows your weak spots and loves it when you get mad at him (it turns him on)

husband!Sukuna is the type to keep damaging too many locks and door handles around the house because he accidentally uses too much force to open them to impatiently get to you.

husband!Sukuna is the type to try a new recipe he learned and force feed it to you, even if it has terrible seasoning ratios, because he wants your honest feedback (he just wants you to not skip meals)

husband!Sukuna is the type to not want kids, but secretly wants to see your pregnant belly someday after seeing you handle his annoying niece surprisingly well.

husband!Sukuna is the type to lounge around you between his sets at the gym, waiting to slap any creepy man who looks at his wife with bad intentions.

husband!Sukuna is the type to secretly memorize the name of the setting powder you ran out of, just to cluelessly stand in Sephora while the staff insists on helping him (he wants to tell you he found it himself later)

husband!Sukuna is the type to carry you bridal style to your room while you’re passed out from fever medications and stroke your hair with his big hands, accidentally knotting a few strands. 

husband!Sukuna is the type to end the evening by laying his big head on your belly, mumbling in his sleep, because he says he loves the warmth but he secretly just loves getting babied by you.

a/n: not proofread!

jason todd x reader fluff, jason’s a loverboy through and through, suggestive and yeah might be straight ass tho but here it is

Jason Todd was contemplating his life choices.

He was sitting in the middle of his living room on a kitchen chair with a towel wrapped around his shoulders to catch the water droplets falling from his dripping wet hair and he was contemplating his life choices.

Would he have chosen not to have met you? No, never any doubt about that. He can barely breathe without you.

But in this moment he was questioning exactly how much he loved you.

Or rather vice versa since you were the one holding a pair of scissors to his face.

“Jay I’m telling you, I watched a video online I know how to do it!” You said again, voice bordering on whiny because of how long you’ve been trying to convince him.

He had been complaining about his hair getting longer for weeks now. Weeks.

summary : it’s date night with Jason Todd! However.. you’re a lightweight. This means he’s now got to look after a drunk and goofy you.

masterlist ノ DC masterlist

The date had started innocently enough.

Jason had taken you to a new cocktail bar in the Narrows — one of those trendy places with fancy drinks and low lighting. He’d been in a good mood, smiling more than usual, hand on your lower back as he guided you to a quiet booth in the corner.

“Try this one,” he said, sliding a bright pink drink toward you. “It’s supposed to taste like strawberries.”

You took a sip. “Oh my god. It does. It’s like juice.”

Jason smirked. “Careful. It’s stronger than it tastes.”

You waved him off. “I can handle it. It’s literally juice.”

Famous last words.

Three drinks later, you were giggling.

Four drinks later, you were declaring your undying love for the bar’s playlist.

Five drinks later, you were trying to convince Jason to dance with you in the middle of the bar.

“Baby, no,” he said, laughing as he gently pulled you back into the booth. “You’re going to regret this tomorrow.”

You pouted, leaning heavily against his side. “But the music is so good! And you’re so pretty. Have I told you how pretty you are?”

He flushed, ears going pink. “A few times tonight. Come on, let’s get you home.”

You protested, but your legs had other ideas. The world tilted when you stood up. Jason caught you easily, one arm around your waist, the other holding your bag.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, voice warm. “Lean on me.”

MASK ━━╋━　 mdni .ᐟ mask kink, mirror kink, p in v, unprotected sex, drool, teasing / mocking, overstimulation, degradation, dumbification, dacryphilia, creampie...

jason was completely drained from patrol as usual, so what does he do ?

take it out on you of course, let you fuck the energy back into him while you ride the thick of his cock nice and hard, taking it all the way down to the hilt.

he couldn't be bothered to change let alone take off his mask, pants tugged down to his knees as he laid back on your shared bed.

you couldn't exactly complain about it either, whenever jason wore the mask it did something to you, made you a little rabid for him and him the same for you. he found himself always being a little rougher whenever he wore it, his touch too hard and his words too mean.

no, you weren't fucking jason, you were fucking red hood.

you sat on top of him with his thick cock stuffed all the way inside your pulsing cunt. you were so wet he practically slid in, all perfect and drooly for him, your slick dripping down to his balls. he let his head fall back watching all your pretty bare skin as you began to fuck yourself on him, completely naked while he was still dressed. you began bouncing as hard as you could, he watched his cock disappear and reappear with each movement and lewd squelch.

you took it so well, taking his hard length inside you inch by inch. a sharp hiss escapes his lips and you imagine his eyes closing for a moment, head tilting back against the bed headboard. his hands find your hips quickly and his fingers dug hard into your flesh with the familiar grounding friction of his calloused touch. jason grabs at you hard and forces a faster pace, making you gasp out and grab at the solid of his muscle for balance.

"easy baby—", his words are low and muffled through his mask.

but you don't want easy. you want it raw, rough and real, feeling the satiating throb deep inside you as you squeeze your sopping cunt around him. jason grunts, a hand reaching for your face roughly, making you stare down at his mask all wide eyed and frozen.

"behave."

you almost cum right there, but you swallow and nod, listening to his word like it's law, then you feel him begin to move. even with his face covered you could feel his gaze intense, tracking your every movement. he takes his time with each filling, hard thrust of his cock his hands flexing on your hips, forcing you steady.

his hand on your jaw stays there, keeping your gaze on his mask, if you look carefully, manage to focus your eyes you can see your reflection, faint and blurred and dyed red.

you see what he sees, your own reflection.

your own face staring back at you, lips parted and mouth held agape with his big hand.

his hips speed up with each upward thrust to meet yours, chasing the friction.

hes forcing you to ride him harder, faster, chasing the building pressure low in your belly. his thumb traces a hot path along your hipbone, his grip tightening possessively. the rhythm between you is relentlessly now, pushing up into you with powerful thrusts that steal your breath and make you cry out softly. you feel the tension coiling tight within him, mirroring the near unbearable tightness building inside you.

even when you feel yourself so close to release your eyes stay focused on the little smudge of your red reflection on his mask, you rode him faster, leaning back as your tits bounced with you.

you hear him groan at the sight.

he's as desperate for release as you now, bobbing you up and down as if you were no heavier than a flesh light, letting out little huffs and grunts. his other hand slides from your jaw down between you two to seek out your pretty clit, resting his thick fingers on your thigh while his thumb comes to stroke at the twitchy nub in tight hot circles making you jump and squeeze around him at the simple action.

“that’s what you were missing—"

"pussy's so fuckin' tight around me— so wet—”

you feel your orgasm getting closer, eyes rolling back as he slots in and out of your lulling body. the sheer size of him causes an ache inside your core that arches your back, clutching and clawing at the skin of his muscled abdomen, he feels you gush around him, all soaked and perfect and moaning and crying for him, melting with every of pull of his cock only to fuck it back in.

you can faintly see your fucked out face in the reflection of his mask and that's what does it. it has you fall forward onto him, laying across his hard body limp, face flushed into the crook of his neck but he persisted through your muffled cries and glossed over eyes.

your glistening wetness dripped down his cock every time he lifted your hips, and the way your mouth hung open, releasing moan after moan, it was driving him wild. fuck he was close, he could feel his balls tighten from the feel of your fucked out cunt as he kept thrusting up into you, balls deep. he felt your pussy twitch and squeeze, poor thing all tired out practically sopping around him with your wet heat.

he managed to ram into you once more, the ridges and veins of his cock rubbing harshly against your velvety walls as your pussy sucked at him greedily. you both held quiet listening to the wet squelches in harmony with the fleshy smacking of his balls relentless against your cunt.

"dirty girl—"

"letting me fuck you like this with my mask on—"

"bet you get off on it—" ,he lets out a lazy half groaned laugh before rearing back his hips for another brutal thrust, this time, he hit you deep, pressing into the cervix, causing your vision to blur momentarily. you were a pathetic mess, eyes watering, spit dribbling from your lips and soaking through his dark shirt while as you whined loudly.

when jason cums you swear you see stars, you feel him paint your walls with thick, creamy release, his cock humping into you weakly with a few more stuttered thrusts.

"my pretty girl", he lets out a lazy huff of laughter as he strokes your face and hair roughly, petting you all sweet like, cooing and coaxing to help you calm down,

"fuckin' pathetic—"

he laughs lazily at your fucked out state, pure bliss behind your eyes and lets his hands squeeze and flex around your ass, feeling how you were still shaky and twitchy from the high, trying to get comfortable over him.

𝜗ৎ “𝓟𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞.”

part one here

more headcannons here

Summary: Jason’s on a sex ban— or quite literally, a complete touch ban!

warnings: whiny, pathetic Jason.

Jason Todd was an absolute idiot, there was no denying that. But he was a very desperate idiot. And he was willing to do anything if it meant you’d touch him again. You see, you’d put him on a complete sex/touch ban for three entire weeks, and well? Jason was not taking it well.

By day twelve of the three-week sentence, the fearsome Red Hood had effectively ceased to exist. In his place was a six-foot-two, two-hundred-and-fifteen-pound disaster who was entirely losing his grip on reality.

Jason didn’t do things by halves. When he was a crime lord, he took over the East End. When he was an Outlaw, he traveled through space and time. And when he was put on a strict ban by the only person who held his entire heart in her hands, he turned into this absolute menace of compliance.

The apartment had never been cleaner. It was, quite frankly, terrifying.

When you walked through the front door after an exhausting shift, you didn't just smell the familiar scent of Gotham rain and Jason’s expensive cologne. You smelled lemon verbena. You smelled freshly bleached tile

You stepped into the kitchen and paused. The countertops were sparkling so intensely they practically caught the light. Every single dish was not only washed, dried, and put away, but the spice rack had been meticulously alphabetized. Even the labels on the canned goods were facing perfectly forward.

And there, standing by the stove, was Jason.

He was wearing a pair of dark sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a tight, sleeveless black compression shirt that showed off every single rigid muscle, and scar, across his broad back. And the sight normally should’ve been enough for you to jump onto him, He was currently plate-stacking three different Tupperware containers of custom-marinated chicken breasts, a batch of freshly roasted vegetables, and a pot of handmade gnocchi.

The moment the lock clicked, Jason didn’t just look up. His entire body snapped to attention. His dark eyes locked onto yours with this frantic, high-alert energy that reminded you of a stray puppy.

He didn't break the rules. His large, heavily calloused hands clamped firmly onto the edge of the kitchen island to physically anchor himself in place, but his broad shoulders slouched instantly into a pathetic, pleading posture.

"Hey," he said. His voice was incredibly rough, a deep, gravelly rumble that sounded completely worn out, like he hadn't slept in a week— which he hasn’t. How could he without your hugs and kisses?. "I made dinner. I made the gnocchi from scratch. The way your grandma does it, with the potato-to-flour ratio you like. And I prepped your lunches for the next four days."

You set your bag down, looking at the sheer volume of food, then at the pristine kitchen. "Jason... did you scrub the baseboards?"

"Yes," he blurted out, shifting his weight from one heavy foot to the other, his eyes tracking your every movement with an agonizing level of pining. "And I ran the vacuum over the carpet three times to get the lines perfectly straight. And I picked up Lily’s toys and sanitized every single block with baby-safe wipes so she doesn't ingest any rogue bacteria. I did it all."

"Wow," you murmured, leaning against the counter. "You've been busy."

"I'm losing my mind," Jason confessed, his voice dropping into a soft, intensely whiny pitch that would have shocked anyone who had ever seen him pull a trigger. He let go of the counter, taking one agonizingly slow step toward you, but stopping exactly two feet away to respect the boundary. He looked down at you from under his dark lashes, his jaw tight, his white streak of hair falling messily across his forehead. "Babe. Sweetheart. Light of my life. Look at me. I am literally vibrating. I haven't slept in forty-eight hours because every time I close my eyes, I just think about how I'm not allowed to hold you."

"It's only been twelve days, Jay," you teased, crossing your arms and fighting the massive smirk tugging at your lips.

"Twelve days is two hundred and eighty-eight hours!" Jason groaned, a loud, muffled sound of pure misery escaping his throat as he dropped his head back to stare at the ceiling. "Do you know what I did last night? On patrol? I didn't even break any noses. A guy tried to mug a tourist in an alley, and instead of hurting him I settled on throwing him into a dumpster. I'm broken. You've broken the Red Hood."

He dropped his gaze back to you, his chest rising and falling in a heavy, desperate exhale. He slowly sunk downward, dropping his massive, muscular frame right onto his knees on your kitchen tile. He looked up at you from the floor, his hands resting on his own thighs, completely and utterly humbled.

"Please," Jason pleaded, his gravelly voice cracking slightly as he looked up at you with wide, desperate eyes. "Look at me. I'm on my knees. I'm saying the words. I'll be a good boy, sweetheart. I swear to God, I'll be the best boy you’ve ever had. I’ll never let Roy inside a three-block radius of this building again. I’ll make him sign a legal waiver. I’ll personally rewrite Lily’s vocabulary list. I will literally do anything.”

You looked down at him, your heart melting just a little bit at the sheer, unadulterated absurdity of Gotham’s most dangerous vigilante begging for his life on your kitchen floor.

"Are you begging, Jason Todd?" you murmured, stepping half an inch closer.

"Yes! Yes, I am absolutely begging, I have zero shame left," he whispered frantically, his dark eyes instantly tracking your movement, glowing with a sudden, fierce spark of hope. He leaned forward slightly, though he kept his hands firmly on his knees. "I don't even need the whole thing. Just a deal. Let me negotiate. A partial payout. Five minutes of cuddles on the couch. You don't even have to move. I will just lie there like a giant, silent weighted blanket. I won't use my hands. I'll tuck them under my chest. Just let me smell your hair, babe. Please."

"Just cuddles?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"A kiss," he corrected instantly, his voice taking on a thick, desperate edge as he looked at your lips. "One kiss. Short. Sweet. Clean. Well, maybe not entirely clean, but just *something*. My lips are falling off, sweetheart. They’re dying. I'm a dying man."

You let out a soft laugh, finally breaking your resolve. The sight of him on his knees, completely devoted, utterly whiny, and entirely yours was too much to resist. You reached out, your fingers gently sliding into the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

Jason practically shuddered at the touch, a low, ragged sigh breaking from his chest as he immediately leaned his face into your palm, his eyes closing in pure, unadulterated relief.

"Alright," you whispered, running your thumb over his sharp jawline. "The ban is suspended. Just for tonight."

Jason didn't even wait for you to finish the sentence. He surged up from the floor, his large, powerful arms instantly wrapping around your waist and lifting you completely off your feet. He pulled you flush against his broad chest, burying his face into the crook of your neck with a deep, shaky inhale.

"Oh, thank God," he mumbled against your skin

He didn't waste a second moving you to the living room, collapsing onto the couch and pulling you down on top of him. He was a man possessed by pure, desperate compliance, his massive frame sinking deep into the cushions until he was completely flat on his back, using his own chest as a platform for you.

"Rules," he breathed out, his voice a rough, scraped-raw whisper against your hair. He immediately tucked both of his massive, scarred hands flat underneath his own chest, pinning them between his body and the sofa cushions. He looked up at you from the pillows, his jaw open slightly, his eyes wide and completely glazed over with absolute devotion. "Look. Hands are away. I’m not moving 'em. See? Good boy."

You couldn't help the soft laugh that bubbled out of you, leaning your weight fully against his chest. Even stripped of his weapons and armor, Jason was a solid wall of muscle, but right now, he felt completely pliable beneath you, his entire body relaxing into a soft, heavy puddle the second your warmth pressed into him.

"Very good boy, Jay," you murmured, tracing a slow line down his cheekbone.

Jason practically whimpered at the touch, his eyes fluttering shut as he tilted his face aggressively into your palm, chasing the friction of your skin like a man dying of thirst. "More," he pleaded, his voice cracking, entirely unbothered by how pathetic he sounded. "Babe, please. Just keep doing that. Left side of my jaw. Right there. Oh, God."

You smiled, leaning down slowly until your lips were just a fraction of an inch away from his. You could feel the frantic, heavy thump of his heart hammering against your ribs, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. The fearsome Red Hood was completely paralyzed under your gaze, his chest rising and falling beneath you as he waited for permission.

"Can I?" he whispered, his dark eyes snapping open, staring at your mouth with a hunger that was almost frightening, yet he didn't move a single muscle to take it. "Please, sweetheart. Just a little bit. I’ve been so good for you."

"Go ahead, Jay."

The second the words left your mouth, Jason didn't lunge—he just reached up with his face, his lips meeting yours with a soft, trembling reverence that completely dismantled the tough-guy persona. It was a deep, heavy, agonizingly slow kiss, full of the built-up tension of the last twelve days. He drank you in like oxygen, a low, needy vibration rumbling deep in his chest as his lips parted against yours, begging for more without his hands ever leaving their pinned position beneath him.

Hunhbknhjnkk oh my goodness this man he’s so fine wtf

━━━━━━━ THIS CAN GO ONE OF TWO WAYS

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bf!jason todd x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: roy calls you at 2 am, apparently jason is drunk and needs you

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 1.1k words, none, fluff, CRACK, sort of part 2 for this, roy is there too, 1 sexual comment, not edited just proof-read 🚬

<𝟑: art creds to @quezartt

You’re currently wearing one of Jason’s Gotham U hoodies (you suspect it’s not actually Jason’s) that reaches down to your legs, along with your winter boots. Aside from that, you’re wearing your pyjamas and nothing else.

You’re absolutely freezing your ass off, and by the time you barge into the club Roy sent you the address to, you swear you’re on the verge of hypothermia.

You would’ve told him to fuck off because it’s literally two a.m. But he called with Jason’s phone, and told you to come right now.

You need to come. It’s Jason.

MDNI 18+

thinking about jason todd waking you with the soft press of his lips against your neck, trailing slow, lingering kisses down to your collarbone. he whispers sweet words and reassurances between each one, his warm hand gliding over your arm before settling at your waist, tugging you closer until your bodies are flush. he presses his morning wood against your thigh in a quiet invitation, patient and content whether you take it or leave it. but if you do? his hand slips beneath the sheets and into your panties, a thick finger sliding through your folds while his thumb circles your clit with lazy affection, making sure you’re slick and ready. “such a sleepy princess,” he murmurs, voice low and rough with sleep as his fingers explore you deeper. “you’re so pretty like this,” he breathes against your ear, hips slowly grinding against your thigh. and when you’re finally wet enough, he pushes into you with a deep, sexy groan, burying his face in the curve of your neck as his slow, sleepy and lazy thrusts take you both over the edge.