#[ thread: oh so holy on my tongue ]

[andy-15-07]

hey guys fred weasley throwing my legs over his shoulders and fucks me so good he can’t help but laugh at the puddle i am before him hi

Wicked

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Word count:1149

Harry Potter Masterlist | request (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Warnings: Smut (18+), oral (f receiving), teasing, dirty talk, pet names, established relationship, aftercare, fluff

Fred Weasley had a gift for many things,blowing things up, bending rules, getting out of trouble with a grin,but making you completely lose your mind might’ve been his most potent magic.

You were tucked up in his room at the Burrow,summer air warm, windows cracked open, and the low sound of enchanted wireless humming lazily from the corner. You’d stolen one of his shirts again, the old one from the shop with the neckline stretched and sleeves too big, hanging off your shoulder just enough to drive him mad.

He was watching you from the foot of the bed, eyes raking over your body like he hadn’t just had you the night before. Or the morning before that. Or up against the bathroom sink not twelve hours ago.

You peeked over the top of your book, trying not to smirk.

“You’re staring.”

Fred didn’t deny it. “I am. You look so good like that. All casual. Comfy. Completely fuckable.”

You snorted, but your thighs pressed together.

“Bit needy today, aren’t you?”

He tilted his head, grin wolfish. “You calling me needy? You, who literally screamed my name loud enough last night I think the ghoul in the attic clapped for us?”

You laughed, and that laugh earned a low growl from him. He moved, slow and controlled, like a lion stalking prey,crawling up the bed until he was hovering above you, nose brushing your cheek.

“You calling me needy…” he whispered, dragging his lips across your jaw, “…while you’re sitting here, soaking through my shirt with your thighs clenched and pretending you don’t want me to ruin you.”

Your breath hitched. “Fred—”

“Let me eat you out, Y/N.”

“...what?”

He grinned. “You heard me.”

“Yeah, I just—no foreplay? No kissing? No—”

Fred’s hands were already sliding down your body. “Baby, we’ve been doing foreplay since the minute I saw you in my shirt. I’ve been suffering.”

He kissed down your neck, hands lifting the hem of the oversized tee until it bunched at your waist.

“I need you on your back. Legs over my shoulders. Right fucking now.”

You’d never obeyed so quickly in your life.

He slid your underwear down slowly, teasingly, sucking a kiss to your thigh as he settled between them.

“Look at this,” he said, voice in awe. “You’re already soaked. Merlin’s tits, love.”

You opened your mouth to snap at him,but then his tongue flattened against your clit, and all that came out was a moan so loud it echoed.

Fred groaned, latching on like he was starving. His tongue circled and licked, slow at first, building gradually, fingers digging into your hips like he was holding onto the last threads of control.

He loved eating you out. It was one of his favorite hobbies,up there with Quidditch and annoying Filch.

And he was good at it. Filthy. Passionate. Worshipful.

“Fuck, Fred—please—”

His fingers slid inside you just as his mouth closed around your clit again, and your back arched off the bed.

“That’s it, darling,” he murmured against you. “Let me hear you.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging as you whined, thighs shaking. He didn’t stop. Didn’t even pause.

“Oh—fuck—I’m gonna—Fred—fuck—”

You came hard, grinding into his mouth, eyes screwed shut, legs trembling on either side of his head.

He moaned like he loved it,like tasting you was the highlight of his entire day.

And when he finally looked up, face soaked and smug, you were a breathless, blissed-out mess.

“You good?” he asked, voice hoarse.

You blinked at him. “I can’t feel my legs.”

He laughed so hard he had to lean on the bed for balance. “Holy fuck, Y/N. You’re literally a puddle.”

“Shut up.”

“No, really. You’re like—dripping. If you die, I’m blaming that book you ignored me for.”

You threw a pillow at him. He caught it with one hand and tossed it aside.

Then he was back on you,pulling off the rest of his clothes, lifting your hips like you weighed nothing.

“You think we’re done?” he teased.

You squeaked when he spread your legs and lined himself up. “I—Fred—wait—”

“Just a little more,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. “I’ll go slow.”

But he didn’t. Not really.

Because the moment he sank into you, tight and warm and still twitching from your orgasm, his control shattered.

He groaned like you were the best feeling he’d ever known. “Fuck—fuck—you’re squeezing me so tight—how are you this perfect?”

You gasped, hands gripping his shoulders. “You’re huge, Fred—oh my god—”

His pace started steady, but it didn’t stay that way.

Every time he pulled out and pushed back in, he went deeper. Harder. Faster.

Your legs instinctively locked around his shoulders again, heels digging into his back as he slammed into you over and over.

Your moans were shameless now,raw and honest and wrecked.

Fred leaned down, face close to yours, grinning like he’d just discovered treasure.

“You love it,” he panted. “Being fucked like this. All stretched out and cock-drunk for me.”

You nodded helplessly, tears in your eyes from how good it felt.

“Say it,” he demanded, breath hot on your lips. “Tell me you love it.”

“I love it—I love it, Fred, please—”

“Please what, baby?”

“Don’t stop.”

“Never.”

His hand reached between you, fingers finding your clit again. Your body jolted at the stimulation, already too much and somehow not enough.

“You gonna come again for me?” he whispered, kissing your temple.

You nodded desperately. “Y-yeah—yes, fuck, please—”

“Good girl.”

That pushed you right over the edge.

You shattered beneath him with a scream, body spasming, stars bursting behind your eyes. Your walls clenched so tight around him, it pulled his orgasm out of him seconds later.

“Shit—Y/N—”

He buried himself deep, groaning your name like a prayer as he came hard inside you.

It was messy. Intense. Fucking glorious.

When he finally collapsed beside you, both of you breathless and sweaty and clinging to each other, the room was dead silent except for the ragged sounds of your breathing.

Then, softly:

“Still mad I interrupted your reading?”

You snorted into his chest. “I don’t even remember what the book was about.”

Fred chuckled, pulling you into his arms and kissing your forehead. “Exactly.”

You both laid there for a moment, tangled in sheets and limbs and sweat, before he grabbed his wand and muttered a quick cleaning spell with a flick.

You sighed. “That’s cheating.”

He smirked. “That’s magic.”

A beat passed. Then, softly, Fred looked down at you.

“Y’know I love you, right?”

You blinked. Heat rose to your cheeks. “What?”

He smiled. No teasing. No joke. Just Fred,completely sincere.

“I love you, Y/N. Like... all the time. Even when you’re ignoring me for books.”

You cupped his cheek. “I love you too.”

His grin widened. “Even when I turn you into a puddle?”

You rolled your eyes and kissed him again.

“Especially then.”

[rafesangelita]

♡ sucking off bsf!rafe while no one’s home..

warnings: handjob, oral (m. receiving), praise

rafe knew as soon as you welcomed him inside your house in nothing but a baby tee and sleep shorts that didn’t do so much as to cover the globes of your ass, he was going to be fighting with himself to keep his attention zeroed in elsewhere. after telling him to go ahead and sit down in the living room, rafe blinked away from the sight of your hips swaying as you walked into the kitchen and came out with a bowl of popcorn. “hey, uhm— where are your parents at?” he swallowed thickly, settling into the cushions as you walked over and pressed play on the tv.

“oh, they’re out on a date tonight, they won’t be home anytime soon.” rafe’s fists clenched at his sides when you rested your head in his lap, your backside now on full display as your face was only mere centimeters away from his clothed cock. “great..” he trailed off, trying his best to just let the sound of the movie tune out any unwanted thoughts inside his head right now. he couldn’t risk getting hard in his shorts and having his hard-on just there in your face, but with your hand also resting on his thigh, he was slowly but surely approaching the line of no return.

inching your hand closer to where you wanted to feel him, you moved your head slightly, biting your lip enticingly when you felt him poking your cheek. sparing his lap a quick glance, you rubbed your thighs together once you saw the tent that had formed there. rafe knew you caught him when you lifted your eyes towards his face, the guilt already seeping through his features. “i’m so sorry, i swear i tried my best not to react—” he stopped talking when you palmed him through his shorts, your fingers working to finally get him in your hands. “w-wait, are you sure?” he stopped you, his heart beating in his ears.

without a word, you reached up for his hand and placed it on your ass, flashing him a smile before you averted your eyes to his length. you moaned when you finally felt him give in, his palm groping your flesh as you licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock. he hissed, watching you intently as you gripped him at the base and started stroking him in your fist, your lips wrapping around his sticky tip. “fuck, that feels good.” he sighed, moving your hair out of the way so he could get a clear view of your pretty face. “god, you look so good like this, ‘just taking it like a fuckin’ champ..”

swirling your tongue around his head, you pulled away with a pop!, a string of saliva still connecting you two together. “i’ve wanted to do this for so long.” you confessed, making him curse under his breath as he marveled at the sight of your messy chin. “are you serious?” he groaned, “i wish you would’ve told me sooner, we could’ve done this a long time ago.” rafe ran his thumb over your bottom lip, watching it pop back into place before you pressed a small kiss to his digit. “i guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time, then.” you lowered your head again, this time taking him all the way down your throat.

rubbing your clit through your panties, rafe touched you while he fucked your mouth, the sound of his low groans and your muffled moans filling the space of your living room. it wasn’t long before he was doubling over, his fingers threading through your hair and tugging at your roots as he held you in place to take his load. you didn’t feel the hot ropes paint the inside of your mouth until he gasped, a string of curses rumbling from his chest as he filled you up until you had a mix of spit and cum dribbling down your chin. “holy shit,” rafe pulled you off of him, “that was better than what i imagined.”

thank you nonnie for celebrating with me ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

[b1eedthefreak]

Just Ride

daryl x reader

warnings: smut, face riding, lowkey sub daryl, yeah…

⸻

It all started because Eugene can’t mind his damn business.

You weren’t even in the room when it happened, which was a blessing and a curse. Because the story reached you through Tara, who was still crying laughing when she told it, and the secondhand embarrassment alone was enough to make you want to move out of Alexandria.

“Dude,” she wheezed, barely able to speak, “Eugene walked in on Rosita. On Abraham.”

You raised a brow. “On Abraham?”

“On. Like. Riding his face. Just full blown porno energy! I swear I’m not lying!”

You stared at her, horrified and already laughing.

“And the best part,” Tara said, “is Eugene trying to explain it like it’s some kind of… military maneuver. Called it a—what did he say?—a reverse frontal oral saddle maneuver. I swear to God.”

You choked. “What the hell does that even mean?”

“Means Rosita was sitting on Abraham’s face and Eugene’s whole worldview shattered,” Tara said. “He was rambling about it to me in the kitchen when Daryl walked by and heard the tail end of it. Just stopped and stared, like he saw a ghost.”

You blinked. “Daryl?”

“Oh yeah,” she nodded. “He heard the words ‘face’ and ‘saddle’ and turned bright red. Never seen that man move so fast… just turned around and booked it.”

At the time, you brushed it off. But later that night, back in your shared room, tucked into your warm little corner of post apocalyptic domestic bliss, you started to notice something… off.

Daryl was quiet. More than usual. Sitting on the edge of the bed, picking at a tear in his jeans, jaw tight like he was thinking hard.

“You okay?” you asked, brushing your hair out in the mirror.

He grunted. “Yeah.”

A beat of silence. Then came,

“Hey… you ever… sit on someone’s face before?”

You froze. Slowly turned around.

“…What?”

Daryl’s face was serious. Practically glowing. He rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the floor.

“Jus’… heard somethin’. Earlier. From Eugene. Somethin’ ‘bout Rosita. An’ Abraham. Tara said she was… y’know. On his face. Thought that was a thing women liked.”

Your jaw dropped, then you burst out laughing.

“Oh my God, Daryl—”

“I ain’t jokin’.” he huffed, crossing his arms, now fully defensive. “I ain’t never seen nothin’ like that before. Sounded kinda… I dunno. Hot.”

You bit the inside of your mouth, just to keep from grinning too hard. He was so serious. Nervous like a schoolboy. But his pupils were blown, his voice just a little breathless.

“You wanna try it?” you asked, tilting your head.

He hesitated. Then nodded.

“Yeah. Wanna see what it’s like.”

You didn’t even get to the bed.

Daryl was already sprawled out on the rug by the window, shirt off, looking like he was about to be sacrificed to the gods. His hands were clenched at his sides, nervous, lips parted like he didn’t know how to breathe right.

You stood over him slowly, watching his eyes trail up your body.

“You sure?” you asked gently.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I’m sure. Wanna… feel you.”

You crawled up over him, your knees on either side of his head, and his breath hitched as your thighs brushed his cheeks. He looked like he’d died and gone to heaven. His hands lifted slowly, reverently, to grip your hips.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed, eyes wide. “You’re so wet already…”

“Yeah baby,” you murmured, lowering yourself inch by inch, your slick dragging along his lips. “Been wet since you asked.”

He whimpered.

The moment your cunt settled fully on his face, Daryl groaned. Loud and desperate. His tongue shot out, licking up your folds in a long, messy stroke, hands digging into your thighs like he never wanted to let go.

“That’s it,” you gasped, threading your fingers through his hair. “Just like that.”

He was eating you like a man possessed. No hesitation now, no nervousness… just pure, hungry devotion. His tongue licked and lapped, his nose bumped your clit, and every time you rocked your hips down just a little harder, he moaned. The sounds he was making sent heat rushing straight to your core.

“Good boy,” you whispered. “My good boy.”

He whimpered into you, again. You looked down, and your stomach flipped.

He was grinding into the floor. His cock flushed and hard, untouched, smearing precum on his own stomach. The desperation in his hips made your head spin.

“Baby,” you cooed, cupping his jaw, “are you that worked up already?”

He nodded under you, lips glossy and wet. “Feels so good,” he gasped. “Could stay here forever…”

“You wanna come like this?” you teased. “Just from eating me out?”

He moaned something that sounded like please.

You couldn’t help yourself. You rode his tongue harder, grinding down, your thighs shaking as the heat built and built until—

You came with a cry, clenching around nothing, thighs trapping his face while he kept going like he needed it to live. When you finally pulled off him, his face was soaked, his eyes dazed, lips swollen and shining.

“Fuck…” he breathed.

You lied down beside him. “You okay?”

He nodded. “Fuckin’ obsessed with that,” he mumbled. “Think you broke my brain.”

You smiled and kissed him.

Daryl muttered, clearer this time,

“Wanna do that again?”

⸻

a/n i wrote this really quick PLZ ignore the rushed ending and lowkey sloppy writing okay bai

[arixella]

"I wanna see your face when I fill you up"

╰┈➤ pairing: Luffy x female! reader

a/n: um atp i just post randomly now

summary: After a battle, you catch yourself openly admiring Luffy’s now-ripped physique — and he totally notices. Flirty teasing turns into a steamy, passionate moment where Luffy confesses he’s wanted you for a long time. Things quickly heat up on the deck, and by the end, it’s clear neither of you plans to stop at just one night.

wc: 2.2k

contains: smut! (18+) semi-public but private setting (upper deck at night), rougher pace, dom-ish Luffy, possessiveness, light manhandling, marking, dirty talk, cocky Luffy losing his control, creampie, aftercare.

The sun was dipping low, casting a golden sheen across the deck of the Sunny. The crew buzzed around, cleaning up after the latest island showdown — weapons being stowed, bandages wrapped, bruises proudly shown off like trophies.

And then there was him.

Monkey D. Luffy. Bare-chested, grinning, still buzzing with energy as if he hadn’t just wiped the floor with a Warlord and his army.

You stood frozen by the mast, a rag in your hand and absolutely no thoughts in your brain except:

“Holy hell. When did he get so ripped?”

Luffy’s torso glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, muscles tight and cut like they were sculpted from sun-kissed stone. His abs flexed every time he laughed — and oh, he laughed a lot — and his biceps looked like they could casually throw a mountain or two if you asked nicely.

You were not drooling.

Not literally.

“You okay over there?” Luffy’s voice cut through your mental spiraling, and when you looked up, he was staring at you — eyes wide, cheeks a little pink.

Busted.

“I—uh, yeah. Just—cleaning,” you said, waving the rag like an idiot and definitely not staring at the way his chest rose and fell with each breath.

He tilted his head, still grinning, but his flush deepened. “You’re lookin’ real hard, y’know.”

You almost choked on your own tongue. “What?”

“Your face’s all red,” he said, stepping closer, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean, I get it. I am kinda awesome.” He flexed an arm half-jokingly, then dropped it when he caught you actually checking it out.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, covering your face with both hands.

Luffy laughed, the sound bubbling like soda. “You do think I’m hot!”

You groaned. “Luffy—”

“No, no, wait, I like it!” he said quickly, his voice getting higher, his own face nearly glowing with how flustered he was. “I mean—you always look cute when you’re all bossy and mad, but now you’re like—squirmy and pink and kinda…kinda kissable.”

That shut you up real quick.

He blinked. “Was that too much?”

“No,” you said, heart hammering in your chest, “but if you say ‘kissable’ again I might actually pass out.”

He stepped closer, until his toes nearly touched yours, his breath warm against your cheek. “Wanna try it? Just so I know what it’s like?”

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “You serious?”

Luffy gave you a grin that was almost shy — almost. “Been thinking about it since before the fight. Now I feel strong and you look all shiny-eyed. Feels like a good time.”

You barely managed a nod before his lips brushed yours — soft, sun-warmed, a little clumsy, but so Luffy. His hands landed at your hips, warm and grounding, and you sighed into him, threading your fingers through his messy hair.

When you pulled back, both of you looked dazed.

“…Wanna help me clean up?” you teased, voice breathy.

He smirked, muscles flexing just a little. “Nah. I wanna make you red again.”

--

The deck was quiet now.

The rest of the crew had cleared out, most asleep or below deck, leaving only the soft sway of the sea and the lingering heat between you and Luffy.

Your back pressed against the wood of the mast, heart thundering in your chest as Luffy’s fingers ghosted over your skin — featherlight, curious, hungry.

“I really like when you look at me like that,” he murmured, voice lower, rougher than usual. He leaned in, brushing his lips against your neck, sucking lightly until your knees nearly buckled.

“Luffy—” you breathed, eyes fluttering shut.

“Hmm?” he hummed against your skin. “You looked like you wanted to eat me earlier. Thought I’d return the favor.”

You gasped as his hand slid up under your shirt, palms rough from battle but his touch soft — reverent, even. He pulled the fabric over your head with a gentle kind of urgency, eyes flicking down over your body like he’d just found treasure more valuable than any One Piece.

“Whoa…” he whispered, dazed. “You’re so pretty.”

The way he said it — genuine, like he was seeing you for the first time — made heat bloom between your thighs. He bent down slightly, mouth brushing the top of your chest, teeth grazing as he teased.

“You always act all cool,” he said between kisses, “but you’re squirming so bad right now.”

“Shut up—”

“Nope,” he grinned, lips trailing down your stomach. “Not when you’re about to beg.”

You opened your mouth to argue — then yelped when he dropped to his knees and pulled your bottoms down with one smooth motion, tongue flicking out to tease right where you needed it most.

Your hand flew to his hair, gripping tight. “Luffy—! Wait, you don’t have to—”

He looked up at you from between your thighs, eyes half-lidded, cocky smirk on his face.

“I want to.”

And with that, he buried his face in you, tongue warm, wet, relentless.

His grip on your thighs tightened, keeping you steady as he sucked and licked, building you up fast — too fast — and yet not enough. His nose brushed sensitive skin, his tongue working in maddening patterns, switching between deep licks and soft flicks that made your hips twitch.

“Y-You’re good at this—” you panted.

“Rubber tongue,” he murmured smugly against you. “Told you I’d make you red again.”

You came with a cry, head thrown back, thighs trembling against his shoulders.

But he didn’t stop.

You whimpered, twitching, the overstimulation making your whole body jolt.

“L-Luffy—!”

He looked up again, glistening lips, eyes glazed with lust and pride. “One more. Just one more. Then I’ll let you make me squirm.”

You didn’t even have the strength to argue — not when he leaned in again with that damn smile.

Your legs were still shaking when he stood.

Luffy’s mouth glistened with the aftermath of your first orgasm, and yet the look in his eyes said one thing: he wasn't nearly done.

He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand — then leaned in to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. The kiss was deeper now, messier, full of unspoken hunger.

“You okay?” he murmured, breath hot against your lips.

You nodded, dazed. “More than.”

His grin turned wolfish. “Good. ‘Cause I need you. Now.”

You didn’t even get a warning before he hoisted you up by the thighs, pinning your back to the mast. His strength — casual, overwhelming — made your breath catch as your legs wrapped around his waist out of instinct.

“Didn’t know you could carry me like that—”

He pressed his hips against yours, and you felt him — hard, thick, twitching through his pants. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet.”

“Show me,” you whispered.

That was it. His restraint snapped.

He yanked his pants low enough to free himself, letting his cock slap against your thigh, hot and heavy. You barely had time to brace before he lined himself up and pushed in — slowly, but not gently.

“Shit—Luffy—!”

“Feel that?” he hissed, head falling against your shoulder as he bottomed out, his hips flush with yours. “Fuck—you’re tight.”

You gasped at the stretch, the heat, the way his voice sounded — deeper, raspier, needy in a way you hadn’t heard before.

He pulled back almost completely, then slammed in again, hard enough to make the mast behind you creak.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” he groaned, hips snapping into you at a quickening pace. “Since Alabasta. Since Water 7. Since forever. Wanted you—so bad.”

Your nails dug into his back as he fucked you harder, the raw sound of skin slapping skin mixing with the crashing waves below. He was moaning openly now, whimpering your name between thrusts like a man possessed.

“Look at me,” he panted, grabbing your chin. “I wanna see your face when I fill you up.”

You bit your lip, nearly sobbing from the intensity — the way he hit just right, the way his voice cracked with every needy thrust.

“Gonna cum inside you,” he muttered, mouth by your ear. “Wanna see it drip out. Wanna stay inside, keep it warm.”

You clenched around him at the words, and he felt it.

“Oh fuck, you like that?” His voice broke into a breathless laugh. “You want me that bad, huh?”

You barely had time to answer before he was pounding into you like he couldn’t stop, couldn’t even think. His grip bruised into your thighs, his thrusts erratic now, desperate.

“I’m—fuck—I’m gonna—”

You nodded, your own orgasm building again, faster than you expected.

“Do it,” you whispered. “Come inside, Luffy.”

His whole body shuddered. With a low, wrecked moan, he buried himself deep and spilled into you, his hips stuttering as he came hard — warm, endless, claiming you in the most primal way possible.

You followed right after, clenching tight around him as your second climax hit, nails raking down his back.

For a long second, the world was just heartbeats and shaky breath.

Then his head dropped to your shoulder again, body still twitching with the aftershocks.

“…shit,” he mumbled, voice hoarse. “That was way better than meat.”

You laughed breathlessly. “High praise, Captain.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you — eyes soft, cheeks still flushed. “Hope you’re ready for more. ‘Cause now I know what you feel like, I don’t think I can stop.”

You leaned in, kissing him slow this time. “Good. I don’t want you to.”

♡♡♡

© 2025 arixella | please do not plagiarize or translate any of my work without my consent.

[sucknightz]

CHOSO’S FIRST DEEP THROAT ❥

• contains; virgin!choco x reader

• warnings; oral (m receiving), soft!choso, im sorry this is my first time writing something like this so bare with me…

“Oh, God,” he breathes making you shift your legs to soothe the ache between your legs. “Fuck, y/n, keep sucking it like that holy fuck.” The sheets crumble as he sucks in a breath. “Slow, slow I’ll—oooh, you’re gonna make me come.”

Fine, you rub it over your tongue slowly, a deep desperate sigh coming out of his parted lips. Once he threads his fingers through your hair, you think he’ll push you up and down to fix your speed, but he simply rubs your scalp. He rocks his hips forward, a low noise coming from deep within his throat. “y/n — yeah, that’s it. Don’t stop,” he slurs.

You couldn’t even if wanted to, and you don’t. Instead, you take him until his tip is at the back of your tongue and you can no longer breathe.

“Fuckkkk,” he drawls. His fist tightens into your hair, holding you there and once you lean back, his muscles relax. “If you keep doing that, I’ll come—”

You do it again, running your tongue along his member. You take him farther down till the hilt seeing his expression on his face. “Fuck. Stop, stop.” You’ve never seen him so tense before, his veins strained against his skin and a pink coloration over his cheeks.

“Again” you say once he tugs at your arm. Your voice is husky, the pulsing throb between your legs making it difficult to elaborate much more. You’re completely lost in his pleasure. It's addictive. "Again, one more time."

"I’ll come," he warns, like that's going to demotivate you. It instead, makes the ache between your legs throb more.

He shudders as you fit his cock your mouth, pushing down until it almost completely disappears into you. Breathing through your nose, you take in his musky scent and watch his expression as he breaks down. Knowing you’re doing that to him is just as good as feeling pleasure myself.

Choso comes in your mouth with a pink tint on his cheeks. You swallow every last drop of semen, enjoying his taste. He pulls his member out your mouth, “Open.” You open your mouth pulling your tongue out. “Fuck.”

[ckret2]

Chapter 78 of human Bill Cipher pretending he's not the Mystery Shack's captive for ten minutes:

This happens!

Whoops, sorry, zoomed too far in.

This happens!

Way more important and exciting.

####

Bill lasted—based on the sun's position—about a couple of hours before this body's needs knocked him out of his meditative mindset. He sat up with a sigh, checked his tanlines—the stripes he'd drawn across his abdomen were already darkening into a nice, angry burn—and glanced over at the lake to see what the Pines were up to.

At the moment, Mabel was holding a foot-long wiggling, glittery, gold-scaled trout in a net and grinning proudly. Stan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pointed at her in excitement as Dipper snapped a picture of them. Stan opened a cooler for her to drop the fish in. Mabel's face fell, and she hugged the fish protectively. Stan's shoulders sagged; but after half a minute of unsuccessful negotiations, he relented and pointed at the lake. She dumped the trout back in the water.

Bill clicked his tongue in disappointment and muttered, "If I'd thought they'd catch the golden trout, I would've told 'em that thing's like the holy grail to the Fishmasons." Stan probably would have insisted they keep it just so they could get something on Eugene. Bill wasn't emotionally invested in their feud; but the trout did grant three wishes. Bill could use that kind of power.

Oh well, he could tell them later. Maybe they'd get lucky and hook it again. Bill got to his feet. "Hey, old lady. I need to stretch my legs." Stretch his legs, look for entertainment, and forage for food—they were planning to be out here all day, but there hadn't yet been a grocery trip to properly stock his new fridge chest and he didn't trust Ford's nutrition pills, so he'd only brought along a bottle of hot sauce and a bottle of sprinkles and hoped he'd manage to find some food once he was here. (And if he didn't find any—well, at least he had hot sauce and sprinkles.)

"Okay," Abuelita said. She turned a page.

He put his slippers back on, dug his condiments and eye patch out of Abuelita's bag—his eyes were getting tired—put on the patch, and scanned the beach. "Hey. Looks like somebody's grilling hot dogs over there."

Abuelita made a noncommital sound of minimal interest.

"Hot dog might be nice," he said. "Looks like the grill's a biiit over thirty feet away, though..."

"Okay," Abuelita said again.

"So." He waved his braceleted hand demonstratively. "Shall we?"

"Eh. I don't want a hot dog." She slid the enchanted bracelet off and dropped it in the sand.

Bill stared at the bracelet, then stared at her. "What, that—really? You're just... really?"

"What am I, a cop?"

Good enough for him. "You're all right, lady." He wrapped the extra thread around his wrist, put on the second bracelet, and glanced at the Stanowar again to make sure the Pines weren't about to catch him off his leash.

The family was crowded around watching as Ford reeled in something heavy. He grinned excitedly as the hook dragged up a patch of soggy khaki fabric; and his smile vanished when his coat grabbed the boat with a furry hand. As the family scrambled to the far end of the boat, Bigfoot—wearing Ford's lost coat and a full set of scuba gear—climbed aboard the boat.

Ford punched Bigfoot in the face.

"Oh," Bill said. "Bigflipper. That'll keep 'em distracted for a while." Satisfied, he meandered up the beach.

He plastered on a bright smile as he approached the family with the hot dogs, veered around the husband working the grill, and walked right up to the wife sitting on a beach towel, eating a hot dog, and watching her kids play in the water. "Heeey, Wanda! What are you doing here! Look at you, you look terrific!"

The woman looked up at Bill from under her sunhat in bafflement. "I—hi? Sorry, do I...?"

"Sure, it's Goldie! Washington State! Fifteen years ago! We were in the same study group, remember? East Asian history? Honestly all I remember about the class is the other girls and that fifty percent of it was about Confucianism."

Wanda's eyes lit up, and then un-lit as she realized she still didn't recognize Bill. "Oh—heeey! Wow—sorry, guess I've slept since then."

"Don't worry about it, I'm just good with faces. Anyway, from what I remember," he jabbed a thumb toward the man at the grill, "at the time most of your attention was on Danny."

Wanda laughed again, a little more easily. "Right, god. I can't believe I made it through that semester with passing grades."

"Hey, you were still the only one in the group who could remember what order all those dynasties came in..."

Bill kept Wanda distracted for another couple of minutes with small talk about the study sessions he'd spied on out of boredom from a library stained glass window; and then, when he saw one hot dog had been set aside fully grilled and mustarded but as-yet unclaimed, he said, "But hey, I won't distract you anymore! Those kids look like a handful." While both parents turned to look at the kids, Bill snatched up the unclaimed hot dog, strolled down the beach, and called back, "It was good catching up!" That whole performance probably hadn't been necessary, he might've been able to time his loitering to swing by just as the hot dog was left unguarded; but it had been more fun this way. He didn't get to have a lot of conversations these days. Less where he felt like he was the one in control of the conversation.

He soaked the bun in hot sauce, dumped some sprinkles on the mustard, and took a bite while he glanced out at the lake again to see how the Pines were doing.

At the moment, Ford had Bigfoot in a chokehold from behind. Stan hit him with a right hook. Bigfoot kicked Stan in the chest with one immense flippered foot, and he tumbled backward into the lake.

Looked like none of them would be paying attention to anything on the beach any time soon. No need to go straight back to his cell. He scanned the rows of beachgoers sitting out by the lake, looking for fresh entertainment.

Bill's gaze fixed on one of the humans. One of these things is not like the others, one of these things doesn't belong. Amongst all the tourists in their swimsuits, one man—standing ramrod straight, dressed in a black suit, holding a heavy black device with an antenna—stuck out like a sore pale thumb in a pitch black bandaid.

An agent from the Bureau of Covert Investigations. The "eagles." The same guys that had covered up President Quentin Trembley's existence, a brief sightseeing trip Bill had taken to Roswell via nuclear testing-induced dimensional rip, and the miraculous and disgusting resurrection of cult leader/possession puppet Silas Birchtree; and, the guys that had been trying to find Bill's portal in Gravity Falls since they'd detected it in the '80s. Bill wasn't the eagles' biggest fan.

But they'd never been a big enough potential threat or a big enough potential help for him to intervene in their operations. In the mid '80s, when the lead investigator in Gravity Falls had been putting together his case, Bill had considered pulling some strings and manipulating them into taking over the portal from Stanley, before concluding they'd be more likely to disassemble the portal than activate it and it was better off in Stan's clumsy care. But all the same, he'd kept watch over their operations. 

And this, if he wasn't mistaken, was the lead investigator himself. Agent Powers. What was he doing here? Bill had thought the case was closed last year after Ford wiped their memories and sent them packing. Maybe Powers was here about Trembley? Depending on what the Pines had entered into the memory gun, the eagles might still remember that part of their operations in town.

Bill would kinda like to know where Trembley was these days. He studied the agent as he slowly finished his hot dog; and then he moved in.

"Hey there, agent!" Bill clapped a hand on his shoulder, making him start, and beamed brightly. "Welcome to town! What brings you to Gravity Falls?"

"Pardon?" Agent Powers gave Bill an appraising up-and-down look—threat assessment, probably—caught sight of his bikini top, and quickly looked him in the eye. "How did you know I'm an agent?"

"Oh, that's easy! I'm psychic."

Powers opened his mouth, paused, and then squinted skeptically at Bill.

"Just kidding. You've got an earpiece, a business suit at the beach, and the government's favorite car."

"Oh." Powers turned to glance toward where he'd parked. "Yes. I suppose so."

"Say! If you want a more covert vehicle, you oughta go to Gleeful Auto in town. You'll blend right in. Just tell 'em Mr. Locke sent you."

"Who's Mr. Locke?"

Right, Bill supposed he didn't look like much of a "Mr." at the moment. Humans didn't consider bikinis gender neutral for some reason. He took a split second to decide whether he'd get any practical benefits from trying to push past the agent's initial perception of his gender, and couldn't think of any. "Friend of mine!"

"Ah." Powers nervously looked Bill up and down again; then cleared his throat and glanced away, cheeks flushed faintly pink in the heat. "Right. Thank you, uh, citizen."

"No problem!" If Bill remembered his suits right, this agent was an easy target. Believed in "collaborating" with "local informants"; wasn't very good at the covert part of the Bureau of Covert Investigations. "You don't look like you're in town on vacation! Investigating anything interesting at the lake?"

"Well..." Powers flashed Bill a quick sideways glance before nodding vaguely toward a couple of people in dive suits further up the beach. "If you must know, we've picked up some evidence of the lake recently flooding its banks. Which is strange, because the amount of rain this area's received can't account for how high the water climbed..."

Not here about Trembley, then? "Flooding? Think there's any danger, agent? In our quiet, harmless little town?"

"No, no. Nothing like that," Powers said quickly. "But, I've said too much. I should go." He shifted his footing anxiously. He did not go.

What was that about? Bill glanced down at himself; he still looked perfectly human, didn't see anything that should make a government agent nervous. Was it the lack of shaving? Was that too Seventies Feminist for Mr. Government Suit? Was the eyepatch setting off his secret agent "Soviet supervillain in a spy movie" instincts? He couldn't have noticed Bill stealing a hot dog.

Should Bill press his luck? (Stupid question—of course he should.) "Say, you keep giving me these odd looks, agent! Anything you wanna say?"

His pink cheeks flushed darker. "Er, no, no ma'am. It's just, I uh..." He gestured vaguely toward Bill, "I... couldn't help but notice that your... sunscreen is a bit streaky."

Bill glanced down at his tan lines. Streaky? He thought the burn lines were coming out pretty crisp.

The agent went on, "I was wondering if you needed help applying it more evenly." It took a split second for him to realize what he'd just said; and then he went even redder.

Bill raised his brows. Huh. "Nooo, I'm great, thanks. It's supposed to look like that."

"Oh." Powers's brow furrowed in confusion. "All right." He nodded. "In that case, I really should be going, then."

"All right!"

But Powers hesitated again for a moment before finally moving up the beach away from Bill.

Well. Interesting. Interesting reaction.

He checked on the Stanowar again to make sure the Pines hadn't seen anything. At the moment—he squinted—they seemed to be playing poker with Bigfoot. He must not have liked Mabel's playing (unsurprising; she was an incorrigible cheat), because he picked her up and chucked her in the lake.

"She's fine," Bill muttered. "She's got her life jacket." They were good about that in this town.

He watched as Powers met up with the divers farther along the beach; and then he headed back to his towel.

####

Bill had decided his front was sufficiently roasted and was struggling to apply new sunscreen stripes to his back so he could flip over, when he overheard somebody say, "Oh hey, Toga Lady?"

Bill twisted around, already grinning in greeting before he'd even seen who was talking to him. "Heya!" It was Broken Heart and two of the others. Wendy's gang. Robbie, Tambry, and Nate. "What are you guys doing out here! You don't look like the beach types!" (In deference to the environment, all three of them had donned swim trunks and sandals; but that was as beachy as they'd gotten. Nate and Tambry were in black t-shirts advertising metal bands. Robbie was still in his hoodie. Robbie's legs nearly glowed white.)

"Hanging," Tambry said, one arm around Robbie's back and face glued to her phone.

Nate elbowed Robbie. "Dude, he's Toga Guy, remember?"

"Toga 'Lad' would be better," Tambry said.

"You sure?" Robbie asked. "Sh—he's kinda..." He gestured vaguely toward his own chest, realized that probably wasn't the best way to make his point, and finished, "uh... bikini."

"I don't want to spend my day arguing about whether I've got the right to go topless!" Bill got to his feet and planted his hands on his hips. "I could talk my way out of trouble with the police—it's the tourist parents I'm worried about." He pulled up one strap to examine his shoulder. "It's gonna ruin my tan, though."

They took in his tan in progress: several horizontal lines across his lower torso and upper thighs, a few disconnects vertical lines stretched between the horizontal ones. Tambry glanced up from her phone, snorted, and started typing faster; Nate said, "Dude, are you trying to make bricks like the triangle guy?"

Bill froze, mouth open. "Uhhh..." Sure, that was the objective—he just hadn't really expected humans to find it that obvious. Nosy little pattern-seekers. "I mean—"

"That's cool," Tambry said. "Stick it to the man."

Robbie had screwed up his face a bit, but at Tambry's reaction, he shrug-nodded and conceded, "Yeah, it's kinda punk, I guess."

Nate said, "Praise Bill or whatever, right?" He laughed. "Yeah, I thought about getting a tattoo of him. Up here or something?" He pushed a sleeve up above the snake tattoo wrapped around his left bicep to show the blank spot on his shoulder. "But my parents would flip if they ever found out. Maybe I should do the brick thing too, it's way subtler." Nate turned to the other two, lifted up his shirt, and said, "Hey Tambers, do you think I'd look cool with bricks around my waist?"

She didn't look up. "No."

"What if I got an eye on my chest too?"

"Let me think. No."

Bill watched this back and forth with wide-eyed stunned silence. Hold on. What? Praise Bill?

"Pfff, whatever!" Robbie rolled his eyes. "Hey, you're gonna regret getting a Bill tattoo once I get my sick symbol off the anti-Bill circle. It's like... giving me a permanent rock-paper-scissors win against you. For the rest of time."

Nate laughed. "Shut up, whatever man! The circle didn't even do anything."

"It would have! It was, like, glowing!"

"Heeey!" Bill stepped into the trio's line of sight again. "Right, yeah, praise Bill, by the way any of you wanna help me get my back?" He turned around to gesture over his shoulder. "Little favor between punk weirdos?"

"Yeah, sure." Tambry tucked her phone into Robbie's hoodie pocket and held out her hand for the tube of sunscreen. "Just continue the lines around your back?"

"You got it." Bill lifted his arms. "And try to keep the bricks evenly spaced."

"What is this stuff? Some kind of suntan lotion?"

"It's more like anti-sunscreen," Bill said. "By the way, you probably wanna wash your hands after this unless you want sunburned fingers." He wiggled his own fingers, which were faintly flushed from applying the first layer of sunscreen that morning.

"Hey, anti-sunscreen," Nate said, "you could call that, uh... sun-beam." He paused. "No wait, that's already a word."

Robbie laughed. "You're an idiot."

"Sooo," Bill said. "Is the triangle guy cool now? Not—not asking for any particular reason. Just curious."

"Oh, yeah," Tambry said. "Like half the school's decided he's our crazy anti-authoritarian counterculture chaos god now?" (Bill was adding that to his business card.)

Robbie said, "Somebody set up a shrine to him in a hollow tree stump behind the school. People started making animal sacrifices to him during finals week."

Nate said, "It's chicken nuggets and cafeteria tacos, but. Y'know. We didn't say live animals."

"Huh! Interesting!" Bill tried, unsuccessfully, not to sound too excited. He was hip with the youth. Who'd imagined! This was what he got for hanging out with the town's cops and politicans, he could've been exploiting this for a month. "But I think he prefers receiving gold!"

Nate laughed. "Dude, I'd prefer receiving gold, too. What we have is chicken nuggets and tacos."

"Fair enough," Bill shrugged. "By the way—if you want a Bill tattoo? The traditional style is to shave your hair and get his eye above your forehead, right here!" He tapped his skull over his brain's frontal eye fields. "It tells him right where to enter."

"Oh, sweet! That's perfect," Nate said. "I can shave, get a tattoo, and just keep my hat on until my hair grows back. No one will ever know!" (Bill tried to imagine hair growing out of his eyeball, and wished he hadn't.)

Robbie said, "Hey, weren't the Pines like... not letting you go outside because you knew him or something? That's what Wendy said."

That wasn't the story he'd told her. He'd have to find out where she'd picked that up. "Or something. It was more because of dumb academic ego-measuring contests than anything to do with that."

"So, they finally letting you outside alone now?"

"Only for group trips." Bill pointed out at the lake.

The three teens squinted toward the boat. "Whoa," Tambry said. "Are they arm-wrestling Bigfoot?"

"Oh, yeah. It was poker earlier."

For a moment, all activity ceased as the teens watched the battle out on the lake. Nate sat in the sand and propped his chin in his hand. Figuring Tambry was done with his stripes, Bill plopped onto his beach towel to watch as well.

Bigfoot defeated Stan, and Soos switched places with him to try next. Soos lasted five seconds before Bigfoot flipped him into the water. Melody scrambled to help pull him back aboard as Bigfoot pumped his fists in the air victoriously. Bill snorted.

"Bad luck," Robbie said. 

"I could beat him," Nate said. "Hey Robbie, think I could beat him?"

"Pfff, no."

"Bet Wendy could," Tambry said, recording through her phone as Bigfoot generously indulged Dipper and Mabel's attempt to take him on as a team. The guys murmured vague agreement with Tambry.

"Buuut anyway," Bill said, reluctant to let the conversation get too far away from himself, "yeah, I might've talked to the triangle guy a couple, several times."

"That's pretty cool," Nate said. "Hey, we oughta hang sometime, I bet Lee'd wanna hear about that. It'd probably drive Wendy crazy, but..."

Tambry let out a dismissive pff. "The triangle stuff's been driving Wendy crazy all year. She can take it."

"Not a fan?" Bill asked.

"Nah, she thinks the whole thing's creepy. Her and Thompson both."

"I think the whole cult thing's fine," Robbie said magnanimously. "As, y'know, one of the people prophesied to defeat him. If he ever really came back and caused trouble, we could handle it."

Bill tried not to roll his eye. Bold words out of a guy who, a couple of years ago, had left a plate of spaghetti in the woods to see if an "evil triangle" urban legend was true, and had thrown up when Bill dragged him into a dream state to show him just how true it was.

On Earth, urban legends about Bill tended to pop up and wither away in waves around the epicenter of his latest area of influence—like mushroom rings spreading away from a patch of ground they'd depleted of useful nutrients and left to die. Bill suspected the local urban legend Robbie had stumbled upon had been passed down in Gravity Falls for thirty years by teens misinterpreting Old Man McGucket's crazy ramblings about a "demon triangle" and "spaghettification."

He was always torn on whether to encourage or quash such urban legends: on the one hand, it was handy for humans to know he existed and was available for deals; but much less handy when they warned each other away from him. More than once, knowledge of him had nearly broken into the mainstream, and he'd had to put all his other plans on hold to focus on deflecting the whistleblowers' information into obscurity.

Apparently encouraging the spaghetti one had been the right move, if a year after his brief conquest of Gravity Falls the teens were offering him sacrifices rather than cursing his name.

Nate punched Robbie's arm. "Why would he cause us trouble? He's our chaos god, remember? We've given him offerings!"

"I like that attitude," Bill said. "Hanging out sounds fun! We'll... figure something out sometime." As soon as he found a way to make the Pines let him go outside without being surrounded by babysitters. Wouldn't that be humiliating, a full adult hanging out with teenagers and it's the adult who isn't allowed outside without a chaperone. No, that wasn't an option. If he came with an adult attached, they'd ditch him in a heartbeat for being too much of a drag.

The teens made their farewells and headed down the beach, Tambry and Robbie with their arms around each other again. Tambry wiped the anti-sunscreen off her hand onto the back of Robbie's hoodie.

As they went, they walked past Agent Powers—who was looking right at Bill.

Bill stared. The agent quickly looked away.

He didn't like that one bit. As he adjusted his position to lay face down on his towel, he said, "Hey, Dolores. You get the feeling we're being watched?"

"Hm?" Abuelita glanced up from her book toward Bill, then looked where he was looking. "Government." She made a disapproving noise and turned back to her book. "Nothing but trouble."

"You said it." Why was Powers so focused on Bill. He couldn't possibly be in any kind of trouble, he hadn't even existed until a month ago. And the eagles probably didn't know that, did they?

Nothing Bill could do about it in the middle of a beach trip. He propped his chin in his hand and checked on the fishing crew again.

In a fury, Bigfoot had ripped the motor off the back of the boat and lifted it over his head. The Pines family huddled together at the other end of the boat, trying to shield their heads.

A golden trout jumped out of the water, arced majestically through the air, and smacked Bigfoot in the face. Bigfoot stumbled backward and tripped out of the boat.

Hm. Maybe letting the trout go had been the right move. Bill shut his eyes and lay back down.

####

The sun was low and most of the beachgoers had gone home when the Stanowar chugged back to shore, battle-weary, disheveled, and dissatisfied. Except for Ford, who was wearing his sopping wet coat over his waders, holding one boot, and pleased as punch.

"Hey!" Bill shouted. "How'd it go!" He surreptitiously tossed half the bracelet over to Abuelita. She quietly slid it on.

Crankily, Stan yelled from the dock, "You didn't mention Bigfoot in a scuba tank!"

Bill shouted back, "Bigflipper wasn't there when I looked! What, did you expect me to check the entire spacetime continuum to find you the perfect fishing?!"

Faintly, he could hear Ford say, "See, I told you his proper name is Bigflipper."

Mabel repeatedly poked Dipper in the arm as they crossed the beach. Dipper flinched each time. "Ow, ow—Mabel. Cut it out."

"That's what you get for forgetting your sunscreen, bro-bro!"

Dipper's arms and face were bright red with a sunburn. "I didn't forget! I put it on at the beach, right before we left!"

Bill grabbed up Abuelita's empty water bottles and tossed them in the nearest trash can, along with the rest of his tube of anti-sunscreen before anyone could get a good look at it. He ignored the kids and said to Stan, "But it was a good fishing spot, right?"

Stan grumbled, but grudgingly admitted, "Yeah. Until tall, brown, and hairy showed up. We caught four fish! That's gotta be at least as good as the guys from the lodge, right?"

Bill winced. "Ooh. Sorry, they went by an hour ago with eleven fish."

Stan let out a roar of outrage and threw his fishing rod in the sand.

"Grunkle Stan, you don't go fishing to catch fish," Mabel said. "You go fishing to catch memories! Look at this!" She held up a bunch of photos. "This is a whole scrapbook spread right here! We caught sooo many memories."

"And my coat," Ford said. He was admiring his #1 Grunkle pen, which he'd taken from the coat pocket.

"I'd rather have fish," Stan grumbled. "All right, c'mon. Let's get..." He trailed off, looking past Bill. "Hey, is that...?"

Bill glanced back over his shoulder, and grimaced. Agent Powers and his protégé were watching them from the far end of the beach. Bill quickly turned back around. "Yep. Your old friends from last summer," he said. "They've been scoping out the beach all day. I don't know what they're here for—but you probably wanna get out of here." More importantly, Bill wanted to get out of here—but he didn't see any benefit to letting them know he was nervous.

"He's right," Ford said. "If they see us long enough to recognize us—and his memories start coming back..."

"Who are they?" Melody asked.

Soos whispered loudly, "I'll explain it in the car." Bill bit back the need to point out that whispering didn't make a difference as far away as the agents were.

"I don't get it," Stan said. "What are they doing back here?"

"You wanna go ask him?" Bill asked. Stan grimaced.

The Pines and Ramirez families piled back in their vehicles and headed out. Bill had the uneasy feeling that Agent Powers was focused on the Ramirez's truck as they left.

####

(How long have I been promising the Agent Powers plot, since like the May before last or something? Here it is!!

Next week, either we launch straight into the Powers plot, or I finally have the Axolotl chapters (it's chapters plural now) sufficiently edited and we do that first, because once we start the Powers plot there's no place for a break until it's over. Hopefully the Axolotl chapters will finally be ready by next Friday, but if they're not...... tough. It's fine though, you'll live.)

[emmg]

Emmrich is 19 and clinging to life by a single, fraying thread because the Mourn Watch thinks he should be able to recite undead tax law backwards while sleep-deprived and actively on fire to pass their final exams.

“Have you tried eating the dean’s ass?” Johanna suggests, unbothered, because she is brilliant, untouchable, and also fundamentally does not give a shit. The Mourn Watch is a bunch of whiny corpse babysitters who should be begging to touch her holy left toe. She’s getting in.

Emmrich frowns. Then he stress cries into his pillow because what if she’s right? What if there really aren’t enough hours in the day to absorb 400 years of undead jurisprudence and necromantic rituals?? What if eating the dean’s ass really is the only way to get in???

“Here, chucklefuck,” Johanna says, dumping a heaping platter of coke in front of him.

Emmrich gawks. He is a good boy. He does not cheat. He does not do illicit substances.

He also desperately wants to be a Watcher.

One (1) snort couldn’t hurt, right?

Spoiler: it hurts.

Johanna starts taking notes because Emmrich is fucking disintegrating in real time. His hair is greying from stress, lack of sleep, and possibly the unholy amount of  crack fucking cocaine currently pickling his soul. This is hilarious to her. She joins in.

“I wanna build a huge skeleton,” Johanna announces mid-line, eyes fully dilated like she just glimpsed the face of the Maker.

“I want to find the love of my life,” Emmrich sobs, dropping his portion onto a skeleton’s pelvis.

Doesn’t matter. He’s already committed to this downward spiral. He snorts it off the pubic bone.

Some dipshit cultists are trying to loot the deeper levels of the Necropolis, which is a really bad fucking idea. This is a problem.

Emmrich has not slept in three days.

So he raises the same dead guy 17 times to yell at him.

“PLEASE just let me fucking die,” the cultist begs.

“Not before you scrub every toilet in the necropolis with your ghostly tongue,” Emmrich says, wagging his finger and tsk-tsk-tsking.

Eventually, a formal complaint is filed against him for “unethically harassing the dead” because he keeps waking up long-buried married couples to demand dating advice through his corpse whispering.

Years later, Rook brings a brick of coke to the Lighthouse.

“Oh no,” Emmrich whispers, as PTSD from his academically sanctioned drug-bender days slaps him in the face.

He should say no. He should act like a normal, respectable 52-year-old professor who has left that life behind.

But he loves Rook. He loves Rook so, so much.

And what if Rook thinks he’s lame now? What if she looks at him and sees some washed-up old nerd who can’t even do one little bump of coke like the cool kids?

One (1) line can’t hurt, right?

Spoiler: it hurts.

Immediately, this well-respected academic finds himself in a full-blown, vein-popping screaming match with some random ghostly asshole that wandered into the Lighthouse.

“Hehe,” sneers the Spirit of Bullshittery, “you’re ugly.”

“I TAKE EXQUISITE CARE OF MY APPEARANCE, YOU SEMI-CORPOREAL VULGAR TROGLODYTE,” Emmrich screeches, his voice hitting a frequency that could shatter glass and summon distant, confused seagulls. “BEAUTY IS SUBJECTIVE AND STANDARDS HAVE CHANGED THROUGHOUT THE CENTURIES—IN THE BLESSED AGE, I WOULD HAVE BEEN A—”

Rook, watching this clusterfuck unfold, comes to a rational, reasonable adult decision:

She shoves his dick in her mouth. Maybe if he’s busy getting sucked off, he’ll finally shut the fuck up. Emmrich is so overcome he asks her to marry him mid-suck.

Coke is banned from the Lighthouse.

[facefullofsadness]

ever think about car sex with aeri... yeah, I do, a lot

I most certainly do too anon... a lot. ooouuu the au concepts to go alongside car sex with aeri are quite literally countless like I can envision after a dinner party w designer!giselle (she's been occupying my mind for weeks guys idk I wanna make like a miniseries on that aeri-), hooking up with stranger!giselle from the club in the parking lot, stepsis!giselle taking u out for an *innocent* midnight drive but u can't take ur hands off one another, bully!giselle putting u in ur place after u refused to do her hw, ugh I could go on and fucking on.

but for today, let's paint the picture of bestie!aeri. it's summer vacation and you both are bored at 2 am, deciding to go out on a joy ride with your bestfriend who you've been crushing on for fucking ever, and what's a friendship without mutual yearning accompanied by intense flirting and affection to make each other confused right? blasting music with the windows down as u both sing ur heart out to u and aeri's shared playlist (gay), both of your outfits leave little to imagination, sheer and flimsy tops with unbearably short shorts, it's hot as fuck so sweat gleams on ur guys' skin, shining from the street lamps and moonlight.

but the tension? my god it's insane. when the tone of the music shifts as sensual rnb plays rhythmically on the speakers, you look at aeri and holy fuck she looks god-like. the sheen on her milky skin from her perspiration, her messy hair clinging to her body, her arms toned perfectly clutching on the steering wheel, the way her tank top hugged her chest and waist deliciously, her juicy thighs on full display, and her lips plump red after licking them locking eyes with you at the stoplight. you were so dizzy, the ache in your core throbbing from the mixture of adrenaline and js looking at your best friend. u watched as she pushed her hair back with her big veiny hand, threading her fingers through her messy hair, still staring shamelessly as she drove into an empty parking lot.

doesn't take long for her to grab you by the neck (choking you) and pull your head forward towards her, making a choked noise, practically a whimper. her smirk and eyes are filled with lustful intent, your eyes watering with need as you beg her to take you in every way with your dazed expression, and so she does. the sex is messy and oh so desperate. even with the car ac, you both can't help but to feel so hot, even if you're fully naked. her hands are js as greedy as yours, clutching grabbing grasping scratching at skin, pulling each other as close as physically possible.

moans fill the car as you finger each other, your digits drilling in and out of your friend's pussy, her's mimicking your movements, need evident on your faces. forehead to forehead with her as you both release pleasurable noises onto each other's mouths, on her lap as one hand is in her hair, the other thrusting into her, her hand digging into your waist as she fucks you with no remorse. cumming insanely hard on each other, immediately switching to rubbing clits tgt, using each other's slick to slide on the other's pussy. the sensations are so intense and yet neither of you care that it's too soon, that the overstimulation was too much, you both needed each other in an almost primal way, like two animals in heat.

most certainly filled with love bombs, confessing how much she's needed this, how badly she's been waiting for you, how much she has thought about doing this, and you reciprocate the sentiments, rambling against her tongue about dreaming of this day, touching yourself thinking of her, being addicted to everything that has to do with her. every climax you both would slur I love yous repeatedly, screaming each other's names and holding each other close. so much panting, moaning, pathetic begging from both like fuck you feel so good please don't fucking stop or I'm so close I'm so close just a little more please please. her taste is js as sweet as her name on your tongue, and you couldn't wait to get more, never having nearly enough. an exciting summer indeed.

[willowcried]

hey hey heyyy what about quinn fabray teaching shy reader’s first time? for context reader is such an awkward loser and we all know that quinn is one of the popular girlies, and she’s their first girlfriend ever and they haven’t gone any far other than missing but reader just wants to please her

-🪴

Power bottom Quinn Fabray believers RISE

like, you’re so eager to make quinn feel good, but also so shy about actually making a move. you get red just thinking about touching her like that—she HAS to do something about that

curled up in your bed, kissing lazily, and hands resting just above her waist, quinn smirks against your lips and whispers, “you can touch me, you know.”

you freeze, turning bright red. “i know.” you whisper, wanting to sound sure but your hands still don’t move.

she pulls back slightly, taking in the adorable sight of you looking completely lost, pupils blown, mouth a little swollen, hair messy from her fingers. she brushes her thumb against your jaw, tilting her head. “baby, are you nervous?”

you shake your head too quick. too defensive. quinn raises an eyebrow, and you immediately cave, “fine, yes. maybe. but can you blame me? i just want make you feel good.”

her breath catches for a moment as she watches you, really takes you in—the nerves, the almost desperate need in your eyes. you, who always get so shy when things get too intense, who always panic and pull back before it goes too far. and yet, here you are, saying you want to take care of her.

and oh, that just makes quinn’s heart melt. “aww, you pretty thing,” she coos, fingers slipping into your hair, nails scraping lightly against your scalp. “want to please me?”

you swallow, nodding. “yeah.” a shy chuckle leaves your lips.

quinn looks down at you with something between amusement and hunger, tilting her chin as you press your lips to hers again—tentative at first, but deepening quickly when she pulls you closer. she kisses you until your thoughts blur and your hands finally settle on her thighs, fingers ghosting under her skirt.

she sighs into your mouth and your heartbeat skyrockets. “thaaat’s it. like you when you get handsy.” she praises, shifting her arms over your shoulders to your wrist, sliding it further and you just— “holy shit.”

because you can feel the dampness that stains your index and middle finger, even through the lace of her panties. the realization makes you freeze, lips parting in stunned silence. you up at her, wide-eyed, almost like you’re asking.

am i imagining this?

“you did that,” she murmurs, quick to reassure you, rolling her hips ever so slightly against your fingers, her voice is warm and breathy before her hands on your neck pull you into another, sloppy kiss.

and then there’s her breathing. a little messier now due to your hands, slowly rubbing up and down. losing focus just from the way your hands move, she lets out this tiny sound when your other hand squeezes her thigh, and oh—yeah. yeah.

she never sounds like that. she’s always composed, but now she’s melting against you, hips shifting into your touch, exhaling shaky little breaths that make your stomach flip.

she pulls back when she sees how overwhelmed you are “switch with me, baby.”

and before you know it, she’s on her back, pulling you down between her legs, voice smooth as honey as she instructs you.

“start with my neck,” she murmurs, fingers threading through your hair. “kiss me. and don’t be shy.”

she wants you to be nervous. she wants you to hesitate, to stutter, because the idea of you being so eager to please her, while having no clue what you’re doing, makes her incredibly wet.

and when she finally guides your mouth lower, she makes sure you listen. she tells you exactly how to move, what to do with your tongue, praises you when you do something right, and sighs, “don’t stop, doll.” when you finally start to get the rhythm.

because she knows you’re a fast learner. and once you start figuring out what makes her moan? oh, your jaw’s gonna be sore tomorrow.

[carmenberzattosgf]

carmen who’s so obsessed with you…and how he keeps fucking into you even after he’s cum…overstimulation settling in and he doesn’t even care…his eyes welling up with tears but he keeps going…“lemme—one more, baby, jus’ one more, s-so good, don’ make me pull out yet jus’ one more f’me”

Oh my god. Yes. Anon I LOVE you.

Carmen would fuck you for hours if he could. He’s obsessed with you. The sound of your whines is music to his ears. Every single moan spurs him on to go faster. Deeper. Harder. The way your wet cunt squeezes around his cock feels like heaven.

He relishes in the way you cry out when he spills inside of you. Your body tenses and you fall over the edge. You dig your nails into his back, into his hair. Basically into any part of him you can grab. Your skin is on fire.

Carmy doesn’t want to stop. Not yet. His hips thrust sloppily into you, still. He’s lost the precision of his movements, but the strength behind them hasn’t subsided. “Shit– Carm. C-Carmy”

His eyes stare down into yours. Whimpers leave his throat with every thrust like each one pains him. You can make out tears swelling up in his eyes. He’s so overstimulated he can barely speak.

“J-jus’—fuck. Gimme one more baby–“ He’s struggling to keep going, the veins on his neck bulging out from tension. The sound of his cock plowing into you fills the room. His cum makes a mess all over the sheets as it drips out of you. Carmy’s eyes drop down to the sight. Your thighs are covered in him. His cock aches inside of you. He needs you to cum again.

“Can’t, Carm— I can’t—“ you beg him. It’s too much. All the sensations overwhelm you.

“Come on baby—you’ve been doing s-so fucking good f’me. Don’t wanna pull out u-until you cum around my cock again.” His tears are more obvious now, threatening to spill over his lashes. He’s so fucking desperate. He needs to feel you cum for him one more time. Clumsily, he rips one of his hands away from holding your hip, and places his thumb on your clit. His callused thumb rubs quick uncoordinated circles on the bud, aided by the slick of his cum. “Cum f’me baby. Let go a-around me. B-be a good girl and cum.”

Your legs quiver as you fall into pleasure, hooking around Carmen’s waist. Stars explode across your vision. You’ve never cum this hard before; you gush around his cock this time, soaking the sheets even more. Your needy whimpers fill the room as Carmy finally slows to a stop inside of you.

His face rests in the crook of your neck as he tries to catch his breath. His cock twitches inside of you still. You reach your hand up to thread through the curls at the nape of his neck. He’s covered in sweat but you couldn’t care less. “Holy fuck, Carmy— I’ve never—“

He cuts you off before you can complete your sentence. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” His voice is muffled in the skin of your neck, but the arousal in his voice is clear. “Wanna do it again. W-want to feel it on my tongue. Taste it.”

You can imagine the sight before you right now. Carmy with his head between your thighs. His tongue lapping at your center, taking breaks to beg for you to gush on his tongue. You press the thought back. Not right now. “Woah, woah, woah. Next time. Yeah? I think right now we need to worry about getting up.”

“Just wanna stay inside of you. Please?” Carmy always gets like this after he cums. He craves the skin to skin contact afterwards, not wanting to pull out of you too soon.

“Carmy. I’m covered in cum, and so are you. Let’s shower, and then sleep in the spare room. Come on. Get up.”

“Fine.” He sighs, finally lifting his head to look you in the eyes again. You don’t think you’ve ever seen his pupils blown so wide. “But I’m serious. Want to make you squirt on my tongue next time.”

You both make the shower quick, ready to go to sleep. When you both slip under the sheets in the spare room, you answer Carmy’s question before he can get all the words out.

“Baby? Can— can you—“

“Yeah.” Wordlessly you move to straddle his hips as Carmy lays on his back. His cock is still somehow semi-hard. Slowly, you sink down onto him all the way the hilt. You both sigh as he bottoms out inside of you. You lay down on top of him, chest to chest, as his arms wrap around you. The gentle movements of his breathing lulls you to sleep, safe in his arms.

[rafesangelita]

thinking of kook! sweetheart! reader and rafe simply making out after an ice cream date. she's on top of him, laying on the bed. no one is home. she's in a cute little white dress, a bow in her hair, and rafe is sliding his hands up and down the backs of her thighs, squeezing her ass under her dress as they take turns sucking on each other’s tongues... sigh🎀

warnings: heavy make out session, groping, slight teasing, super sweet fluff

a/n: this ask had me going crazyyyy. ty anon for this lovely prompt <3

“you taste just like strawberry icecream.” smiling against rafe’s lips, you moaned softly when you felt his hands slip underneath your dress. “i can’t be loud, rafe..” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. he laughed before squeezing your flesh, hard. “ow!” you yelped, your eyes wide as he shook his head. “no one’s here, baby. you can be as loud as you want.” he rubbed his hands over the sore skin, his large palms running up and down your thighs.

taking his lips in a heated kiss, your fists balled up his shirt as he slipped his tongue in your mouth, the sweet taste of vanilla making your eyes flutter closed. you sucked on the muscle, making rafe groan. he was so, so hard, his erection poking at your tummy as he threaded his fingers through your hair. you loved the feeling of his hands on you. the groping, the squeezing, the way he knew exactly where to touch you in order to make you melt.

he pulled away for a moment, admiring your features as he traced the cupid’s bow of your now swollen lips. “how are you so fucking pretty?” despite both of you dry humping and sucking on each other’s tongues, you couldn’t help your cheeks from flushing at his compliment, a shy smile gracing your face. “rafe..” you pouted, “i’m serious! everytime i look at you i’m like; ‘holy shit my girlfriend is literally perfect.’” hiding your face in his chest, he laughed as he embraced you.

“with your cute little white dress and this bow in your hair. people probably wonder what the hell you see in me.” you slapped his arm playfully. “oh, be quiet. no one is asking themselves that.” you traced the underside of his jaw, both of you gazing at one another. “i do.” you bit your lip. “why?” you asked him. “i feel like i’m not worthy sometimes,” he shrugged, “you’re so sweet and kind and gentle, and then there’s me.” he laughed.

“..yeah, and then there’s you.” you sighed dreamily, bringing a smile to your boyfriend’s lips.

[thef1diary]

i just realized i accidentally send my dirtbag!carlos thots to em instead of you... oh well. i'm sure she'll enjoy them 😮‍💨

dirtbag!carlos eating you out like a starved man😵‍💫 he'd go slow enjoying, every little sound coming from you. as your breathing gets heavier and moans louder it's like a switch has been flipped inside him. he doesn't stop until he's made you cum at least twice.

random side note: as someone with a lip piercing AND nose rings i've always wondered if the other person can feel them? my lip piercing isn't that noticeable apparently but idk about my nose rings... i'll have to conduct a study!

🩵

— haha em surely enjoyed them but nonnie?!?!? holy fuck this thought is soooo hot, fanning myself over here 🥵 and ooh? I only have ear piercings, but the temptation of getting a nose piercing is like super high rn. For this drabble, let’s pretend you can feel his nose piercing. 18+ content below

The room is dimly lit, a faint orange glow from the streetlamp outside casting shadows on Carlos’s sharp features. He’s on his knees in front of you, every inch of him exuding trouble—his leather jacket open just enough to show a glimpse of his hairy chest, a chain glinting at his neck. Dark hair falls messily over his forehead, but your focus keeps shifting between the black hoop and stud adorning his ears and the glint of the silver ring in his nose. The piercings, paired with his cocky smirk, make him look like he walked straight out of your most dangerous fantasies.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he drawls, voice rough with a teasing edge. His large hands grip your thighs, spreading you open for him. “You’re the one who begged for this, remember?”

Before you can muster a response, his tongue flicks out to taste you, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the first bite of a meal. The wet heat of him has you gasping, your hands flying to grip his thick hair. He chuckles darkly against you, the vibration of it making your thighs tremble.

The ring of his nose piercing brushes against your clit, a sensation so maddeningly delicious that your hips jerk up instinctively. “Yeah, there it is,” he mutters, lips dragging over you. “Knew you’d like that.”

Carlos takes his time at first, mapping you out with his tongue, licking and sucking until your moans spill freely from your lips. He hums in satisfaction every time you react, letting you feel the scruff of his jaw and the cool press of his piercings as he pushes you closer to the edge.

But then your breathing turns ragged, your cries louder, and his composure snaps like a thread pulled too tight. A groan escapes him, low and feral, before he locks his arms under your thighs, yanking you impossibly closer.

“Oh, nena, you sound and taste so sweet,” he rasps, the heat in his eyes burning straight through you. His tongue plunges deeper, faster now, his lips relentless against you. Your pleas and curses only spur him on. He’s ravenous, devouring you like you’re the only thing keeping him alive.

The first orgasm rips through you, your thighs trembling around his head. Carlos doesn’t even pause, his mouth unyielding as he draws out your orgasm until you’re nearly overstimulated, the slick sounds of his efforts only fueling your undoing. He grins wickedly when you whimper, his thumb replacing his tongue briefly to rub at your swollen clit.

“One more,” he orders, his voice roughened with lust. His teeth nip at your inner thigh, just enough to make you yelp. “You can take it. Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

Before you can protest, his tongue is on you again, his nose piercing sliding deliciously against your pussy. He doesn’t let up until your second orgasm crashes over you, leaving you a writhing mess beneath him.

When he finally pulls back, his lips are swollen, glistening with evidence of his handiwork. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand, smirking like the devil himself. “Told you I’d make you scream,” he taunts, his voice dripping with arrogance as he leans back, taking in the sight of you wrecked and breathless.

“And I’m just getting started.”

want more dirtbag!carlos? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[noirsdoll]

I‘m so sorry for asking but holy fuck, would you consider making a part 2 to the prison!jimmy drabble? Tugged at my heartstrings aahhhgh…

I wouldn‘t be surprised if their relationship was strained afterwards…,., but I‘d love to read more.. ur writing is exquisite ♥️♥️

thank you for enjoying!! here’s a part two 😋 cw for referenced abuse and mentions of drugs and gangs. read the first part here.

You’re standing on your front porch, watching the kids play soccer on the street. The ball’s tattered at the seams, the thread dragging behind it like a bridal train. One kid goes to kick the ball and his sole goes with it, hitting his friend square in the chest.

They all laugh about it and hound the kid, but you frown, drumming your nails on the mug of your morning coffee and turning to head back inside. You come face to face with Jimmy standing in the doorway in a tank top, scratching his stomach and blinking wearily at the sun.

“Can you come in? I need to… talk with you.” It’s mumbled into his shoulder, but you catch the drift.

Nodding, you head inside, closing the screen mesh and door behind you. You follow him into the living room, past the fist-sized holes in the wall, the cracks spider-webbing up to the ceiling. The ones that have narrowly missed your face.

He sits on the coffee table rather than the couch, right across from you. With his arms revealed, you have a better glimpse of his new tattoos, crude drawings and cursive words you haven’t gotten close enough to make sense of.

Jimmy slides a ring off his finger, messing around with it in his hand. “So… I can’t find work, ‘cause I’m a… y’know.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Sex offenders aren’t exactly top of the list to get hired. 

“But I talked to a couple of guys down the block and they wanted to, uh, add me to their circuit.”

Putting together the pieces about the sort of people in your neighbourhood, you swallow the budding lump in your throat. ”You wanna deal, Jim? You just got out of jail, God. I can’t do this again—,” Your voice raises in pitch. You just got him back and now he’s going to leave you here alone, again.

“Calm the fuck down, alright? I didn’t say I was taking it.”

“But you have to, right?” You had a feeling something like this would happen when he got back, that he wouldn’t be able to escape the hand he was dealt. 

Jimmy shakes his head. “There’s other work. But it just doesn’t pay nearly as much as this.”

“Yeah, that’s how they rake you in.” You put your hands on your knees, getting to your feet. “I’m not listening to this. You’re just throwing your life away a second time.”

He makes a sound of frustration, calling out to the back of your head. “You’re a fucking headache sometimes, you know that? I'm trying, isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I wanted you to get clean, be good.” You wrap your arms around yourself, itching for a cigarette. “Where’s that guy you used to talk to? The captain, Graham, Glint—”

“Grant,” he corrects, annoyed, “and no, we’re not talking anymore.”

“What did you do?”

He grimaces. “It wasn’t my fault. He took that bitch’s side. Wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Sounds like a smart guy,” you mumble. 

Jimmy’s eyes flare. “The fuck did you say?”

“Nothing.” You bite your tongue, searching for your cigarettes in your pockets, only turning up with nicotine gum. “Did you take my cigarettes?”

Jimmy clears his throat. “There you go, always fucking accusing me of shit.” He gets to his feet, rolling his eyes. “No, I didn’t steal your stupid cigarettes, babe.”

“Sorry,” you say half-heartedly. You search the room for your keys. “I’m gonna go get some more then. We’re out of milk and eggs anyways.” Snatching your car keys off the counter, you take for the door.

“Hey.”

You turn to him, lost in your own train of thought.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” He looks at you pointedly. 

“Oh, yeah. Do you want anything from the store?”

Jimmy just sighs, walking closer. “I don’t want you leaving this house mad at me.” He stops in front of you, leaning till you’re face to face. “Give me a kiss.”

You give him a peck, but Jimmy grabs a hold of your waist and deepens it. His tongue pushes into your mouth as he presses you tight against his chest. It’s reminiscent of the old Jimmy you loved so much, making heat coil deep in your stomach, enough to have your head spinning when he pulls back. 

You wipe your mouth in partial shock. “I’ll get you some breath mints,” you say, fighting a smile.

Jimmy scoffs and smacks your ass on the way out of the door. “Bitch,” he mumbles.

[vampelic]

TO: KIM SUNOO ✧ ksn

　　　　　 🫙　　𝖻𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗁𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗑 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽

𓈒𓈒 boyf!sunoo ✶ f!rea  945───  >ᯅ< petnames light bondage overstimulation needy!sunoo

“happy birthday, pretty boy,” you whisper low as you shift your weight, straddling sunoo’s tight waist. silk restraints glint under the dim lights, wrists bound to the headboard, arms spread wide. already, he looks wrecked—hair mussed in your hands, lips swollen from your kisses, and cheeks flushed a soft, desperate pink. his pupils are blown, wide and wet, both fear and excitement clouding them.

you let a fingertip trace along the curve of his chest, pulling a gasp from his throat. “look what you’ve done to me,” you murmur. “made me ruin you before midnight.” you drag your finger down to the tip of his cock, slick with his own precum. it twitches, head flushed while leaking, begging. you smile at it.

“such a pretty boy,” you purr. “so cute when you’re this desperate.”

sunoo whines, arching up. “please… please, baby…” his voice shakes—thin, breathless, begging, broken. “i need you.”

you lean down, letting your tongue curl up under his jaw. he shivers. you nibble at his earlobe. “i know you fucking do. and tonight… tonight you’re all mine.” you push your hips back, lining him up with your entrance. he shifts forward, pressing himself shallowly against you. you pause, wanting to feel him quiver.

his stuttered gasp fills the room. you slide down—slow and delicious—feeling him tighten around you. sunoo’s head rolls back, throat arching, eyes fluttering shut. his mouth opens, a soft moan escaping.

“fuck… tight…” he whispers, wrists tugging against the silk. you hold him down, cradle his gaze. “stay like that,” you say, your voice low and commanding. “stay still, birthday boy. let me ride you.”

you begin to move—deliberately slow. each roll of your hips makes his breath hitch. he quavers, thighs trembling. the tension builds; you grip his hips to keep him pinned. he whimpers, head lolling, lips trembling.

“oh, you like that, don’t you?” you tease. “like having me on top, dragging you into it?” you speed up—barely at first, just enough to make him writhe. when he starts gasping, you pick up the pace, hips slapping against him. his whines intensify, mix with soft sobs. his whole body trembles.

“fuck me… please—harder—” sunoo begs, eyes wet. “gonna cum—can’t stop—” he’s unraveling.

you stick your thumb in his mouth and he suckles hard, defeated and needy. “that’s it,” you whisper. “take it. all of it.” you sink deeper, faster, forcing him to ride the wave. slap after slap echoes, skin smacks.

his breath comes in ragged pants. he presses his face into the pillow as he’s buried under the intensity. “g-gh—holy shit,” he gasps. “too much—s’good—” his resilience breaks. with a strangled groan, he cums—begins to shudder, body convulsing tightly around you in waves. the sound of his release fills the room, messy, sticky warmth spreading.

your momentum falters, but you stay astride him, savoring every tremor. his cock pulses inside you, painting your stomach. he’s crying, sweat-slick, powerless, and perfect. “good boy,” you murmur, fingers threading through his sweat-damp hair. “my messy, pretty birthday boy.”

you pause—just a breath—for him to feel you grinding, still slick and full. his chest rises and falls, tears spilling down in quiet sobs. you cup his chin, tilt his head to meet your eyes. he’s a wreck, and you love it.

but you’re not done.

“think you can take more?” you ask, voice soft but fierce. his response is a nod—barely audible, just his lips parting. he’s fragile, sobbing. his cock twitches again, still half-hard, needy already.

“i’m not done with you,” you whisper. you lift your hips and shift forward, pulling almost halfway out—leaving his tip glistening. he gasps, tries to roll up to you. you grip his thighs and pin them flat. “not this time.”

you thrust down. hard and fast. skin slapping, breath gushing. sunoo cries out, head falling back. the intensity doubles. you slam in again, faster—deeper, jarring.

“fuck—b-back already—” he wails, voice breaking, tears trailing. you cling to his thighs, driving yourself onto him with abandon.

“take it, pretty boy,” you growl. “i’ll fucking ruin you if that’s what it takes.” you circle your hips, sweat sticky, nails scraping his skin. he’s completely undone.

his cries get louder, sobs mixing with moans. his cock strains inside you, aching, while his body thrashes. “i…i’m—” he wheezes.

you lean forward, kissing him fiercely—tongues twisting. he melts into it, gripping your shoulder with one hand, tangled in silk with the other. “mine,” you whisper fiercely. “you’re all mine.”

he’s gasping, shuddering. his whole body slackens around you. he’s come again, but seconds later—it begins anew. you’re chasing a third.

your breathing pound; thighs quake. you pick up speed again, torturously slow, then rapid. he cries out in a broken, pleading confession.

“please…can’t…” he whimpers, voice drowned in sobs. “need—more—baby… gonna—”

and then, shattering release: thick, messy, shuddering. he cums again—loud, uncontrolled, needy. his toes curl, fingers clench in the sheets, face drenched. you feel his body shudder through yours as he empties himself again—crying, riding the final tide.

you collapse forward, your chest pressed to his, both of you drenched. you stay packed together, moving with the echoes. slowly, you withdraw, leaving his cock pulsing, leaking, flaccid.

you roll him gently onto his side, still curled in exhaustion. he’s sniffing, eyes puffy, utterly undone. his breathing is shaky. you cradle him—kiss his eyelids, his cheeks, wiping away tears. “happy birthday, pretty boy,” you whisper. “you took it so perfectly. you’re my ruined birthday boy.”

he clings to you, murmuring something incoherent—he’s spent, overwhelmed, but smiling through tears. his head rests on your chest, and you hold him close, loving how utterly you’ve wrapped him around your finger tonight.

[loserboysandlithium]

A Taste: Eddie Munson One Shot

18+ Minors DNI

Summary: this is a series of one shots written in Eddie’s POV about his sexual experiences. ;) this one is the first time he got a taste. ;) I hope you enjoy. 🖤 Chapter list found here .

Part two:

“Just the regular?” I ask, my eyes shifting from her eyes straight to her tits. Fuck.

“Mhmm..” she hums lightly, a slick smile spreading on her pretty lips. This time she’s in a little black dress. Short. Fuck, is it short… the material clinging to her curves in all the right places.

I grab the little baggy from my lunchbox trying to shake all the dirty thoughts from my mind and spin around to see her plopped down on my bed flipping through my sketchbook.

“These are really good, Eddie.” she smiles sweetly, flicking her eyes up to me.

This was the last thing I needed. Her seeing my dorky drawings of dragons and elves. I could feel my face getting hot. She was so far out of my league and I was already nervous enough.

“They’re nothing. Just some random shit.” I try to laugh but it comes out slightly hoarse, making me groan out loud.

“You okay?” she giggles as she sets the notebook to the side, shifting slightly causing her dress to ride up her thighs. Her legs part just a bit, the smallest glimpse of her panties now on display.

“You look pretty. Really fuckin’ pretty.” The words fly from my lips before I can stop them and I watch as her lips curl into a smile.

She pats the mattress beside her and I make my way over, sitting down at least a foot away from her. Fuck, she makes me nervous.

“I won’t bite.” she teases, scooting herself closer so her leg is now pressed against mine.

“You wanna smoke?” I ask as I pull a pre rolled joint from behind my ear.

“Mmm, please.” she hums, her eyes flicking to the joint in my hand before landing on my lips again. I place the joint between my lips, striking my zippo, bringing the flame to the rolling paper as I inhale deeply.

Smoke fills my lungs as I offer her a hit. She smirks as she takes it between her finger and her thumb, taking a long drag for herself. My eyes remain on her mouth, watching as the smoke rolls beautifully from her plump lips as she exhales.

We pass it back and forth a few times, a nice buzz settling across both of us. She’s closer somehow, I can feel her against my side as I turn to look down into her pretty eyes. She takes a deep hit, her fingers landing on my chin, gripping tightly as she pulls me close.

Fuck. My lips brush hers as I part them, allowing the smoke to transfer from her mouth to mine. And then it was over. I shoved my tongue in her mouth, tasting the weed as our tongues swirled together, both of us panting into the kiss.

Her hands grasped at my shirt taking two fistfuls as she pulled me down on top of her. My hands were shaking just a bit as they began to roam across her body. Holy fuck.

And then I was between her thighs, her tiny dress shoved above her hips as I yanked her panties down, flinging them to the side.

My tongue glides through her folds, her slick coating it completely. The moan that left my body was one I’d never heard before. I hook my arms under her thighs, pulling her closer as my eyes fall shut, my tongue alternating between flicking and swirling, my lips moving erratically across every part of her wet pussy.

“Eddie, fuck.” she moans softly, her fingers threading into my curls as I open my eyes to look at her. Fuck me.

Her lips are parted, her eyes locked on mine as I begin to suck gently on her clit. “Yes, baby. Mmmm..” she breathes, her hands holding my head in place.

“Feel good?” I gasp as I come up for a bit of air. I’m fucking drunk on her taste as I meet her eyes once again.

“Mhmm. Don’t stop, baby. Please don’t stop.” she whimpers making my dick fuckin’ throb.

I move my hands to her inner thighs, spreading her legs even more, pressing her knees hard into the mattress as I slide my tongue as deep as possible earning the sweetest little cry from her.

“Oh fuuck..” She lets out a soft whine as I begin to fuck her with my tongue.

My hips rut against the mattress, my cock aching for any fucking friction as she falls apart beneath my tongue. I think I’m gonna cum.

“Eddie, holy shit baby. So good.. feels so fucking good.” she praises and my eyes almost roll to the back of my head. I move back up to her clit, tugging the sensitive bud between my teeth making her hips jolt up just as I slip two fingers into her pretty pussy.

“Fuck! J-Just like that.” she cries as I curl my fingers into that soft spot inside of her. I can feel her all over my fingers, sticky and warm as I begin to fuck her.

My brain goes fuzzy. Her taste, the way she feels clenching around my fingers, the lewd sounds of her perfect pussy sucking my fingers in again and again. Her back arches off the bed as her nails dig into my scalp, the sound that comes from her lips is downright pornographic as she soaks my hand making me come undone. I can feel my warm cum making a mess inside my jeans as I moan into her sweet pussy.

I remove my fingers, bringing them to my lips, sucking them clean of every bit of her cum as I kneel on the bed.

“More, sweetheart. Fuck. Want you to ride my face. Please.” I beg, desperation laced in my tone. I needed more. I couldn’t get enough of her.

“Yeah, baby? You gonna make me cum again?” she laughs breathlessly, pushing my chest hard making me fall to the bed.

“Anything for you.” I whisper, watching in awe as she crawls toward me.

She moves to straddle my face, her dripping pussy hovering just above my lips.

“Good boy.” she purrs.

🖤Tag list: @hideoutside @chrrymunson @trinitywifey @hellfirenacht @emsgoodthinkin @blood-puppy @gri959 @girlfuckthatwhore @joannamuns9n @harrycanyonmoonn @mrsjellymunson @leelei1980 @little-wormwood @melifluorei-d @mrsmarch64 @avavolturi @munsonsblunt @darknesseddiem @yujyujj @eddie-munsonsbitch @ali-r3n @oliskitten @jessicakennedy957 @costellation-hunter @spenciesprincess @siouxiesiouxtryhard @josephbuttoneyes @jamiecb66 @amoiur @eddiernunson @floredaqueen @manda-panda-monium @tclick73 @moviefreak1205 @lil-quinnie @asimpforthe80s @phoenyxrayne @luv4peterba1lard @mrsrdlw @bug-boy32 @hanahkatexo @wasabimia @zeysartzone

I’m not sure if I missed anyone but I’m so sorry if I did and if you’d like to be added or removed just lemme know 😘🖤

[penelopeswifey]

ACCIDENTALLY YOURS!

CHAPTER 2 —

oh!

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a/n: help hi I'm sorry for like ignoring this smau for a month oh my gosh 💔💔 anyway happy late Halloween !! 🎃🎃 this one's rather short .. ILL MAKE UP FOR IT .. I SWEAR 🙏 I'll try double updating tmrw 😁

Scaramouche rolled his eyes, groaning. Already pissed off. The last thing he needed was another pointless social media drama. with another sigh, he  opened Twitter, half-expecting some mundane gossip and rumours about his latest performance.

But.

Instead, his timeline was flooded with tweets mentioning him, it wasn't shocking.. but it was mixed with a name he didn't recognize.. @ynrambles..? He blinked, confused, scrolling past endless tags and mentions. The tweets were… something..

" scarasmicrophone: just thinking about yns situation makes ME embarrassed and I don't even know the mf "

" vortexspublicdefender: lowkey I can't even be mad at yn, the fics are GOOD. likee .. 🫦 "

He frowned, extremely confused. Pausing over a thread where fans discussed you, your recent slip up, and a fanfiction he hadn’t even known existed.

“ What the hell.. "  he muttered, opening your profile. What he found made his eyebrows shoot up. Sure enough, your latest post had blown up, showing a clip from your stream where you had, very awkwardly, confirmed writing a certain fanfiction.

Curiosity piqued, he tapped a link someone had shared, leading to the fanfic in question. The summary alone was enough to make his jaw clench, not in anger, but in absolute disbelief. How.. how could someone be so shameless?!.. no.. no, his fans on twitter were worse.

“ Holy shit.. " he mumbled, as the realization settled in. From what he gathered, Fans have made it very clear that you were both a somewhat popular streamer and the writer of a VERY detailed (and strangely accurate..) story about his fictional alter ego.

For a moment, he could only sit there, wondering how to respond—or if he even should.. but the thought of someone talking mad shit about him, just to be publicly humiliated for liking him was way too entertaining for him to let go.

He quickly typed in a message to they're DMS, and hit send.

—

ACCIDENTALLY YOURS!

SYPNOSIS: You, a well-known streamer, have always kept your two hobbies separate. By day, you entertain thousands with your snarky commentary, but by night, you secretly write. fanfiction about your favorite idol, Balladeer. It was a guilty pleasure—until a late-night stream led to a slip of the tongue and exposed your secret to the world!

In a single moment of poor judgment and a misclick, which by the way was totally not your fault!.. I think.. clips and memes about you spread like wildfire! It was embarrassing enough for everyone to know about your fanfiction, but it spiraled down even further when they discovered you were writing about the very idol you  constantly claimed was overrated.

Just as you wallowed in self-pity, a notification pings on your phone. A familiar username and a blue checkmark.

Shit.

accidentally yours masterlist - chapter 3 —>

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taglist:

@kaeuri @kazumiku @kyouzki @skyoverkill1 @flowzel @lalalaloveallmydays @sketcheeee @vi0let-writes @kunikuzushis-darling @js-a-silly-little-guy @simonisferal @jayzioxx @naevis-callingae @vxmp-loml @dxrling-xing @suzueuieeeee @kinanahana @help-whatdoimakemyusername @dearanemo @heusalettle @v4lerixxq @catorkitty @khsuvy