#Creep Hip-Hop

[aring-king-king]

Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Eazy-E - Creep 'N' Crawl

[poppyseedqueenz]

2023 has barely felt like it ended, 2024 is only a few months from ending and all we got so far is:

Digital circus fandom becomes the fastest fandom to become toxic beyond compression beacuse of brainrot and gen alpha(worse than the anime community)

Stalking becoming the next hot trend on tiktok

Art Industry being threatened by AI

Tiktok in general

Content Farms

The creator of friday night funkin(who is a grown ass man) liking pics of literal 15 year old characters(ex. Hatsune Miku who is 15-16) and die hards defending his nasty ass

Sexyy Red making lip gloss called Coochie Juice, Bootyhole Brown, Nut, Pussyhole Pink, Yellow Discharge, Gonorrhea, Blue Ballz and Sex on My Period(if you buy these than you're nasty)

Ariana Grande being a homewrecker

Jojo Siwa's awful rebrand

Bigfoot thee stallion vs Nicki Minaj

My hero academia getting the worst ending ever

Bigfoot Thee stallion Twerking at a presidential rally

Ipad Kids

Parents not parenting

Kendrick Lamar makes a diss track(Not Like Us) and all our fave youtubers are now being exposed for liking pre-teens and kindergarteners

Mr Beast's Downfall

Teens showing up to school in Hazbin Hotel and Circus Merch

People begging for another Pandemic and treating it like a holiday and not the fact that your wishing that people get sick beacuse you don't wanna go to school 🧍‍♂️

Fart Spice(Miss Poopie)

Skibidi Toilet(💀)

And so much more.....

2024 you will not be missed and the trends from this garbage year won't be missed either

[nightandflesh]

lol bet J Prince is thrilled with Drake’s “Freudian” teenage star name drop in his latest lame diss track (if you can call it that)

[lunarhaze]

Hahahaha I love this so much

[arminsumi]

... hubby!Gojo with a huge breeding kink who just obsesses over you when you're ovulating and can't think about anything else but fucking a baby into your hips.

+ warnings; mdni, breeding kink, some dumbification

+ an; I literally had this idea in my drafts for a year... 😳

Maybe he's got a freaky sixth sense, maybe it's just because he's got heightened senses, or maybe there's some scientific studies to back it up; but Gojo can smell when you're ovulating. And it turns him on — of course it does. He has a bigger breeding kink than you do.

"Oh, you're ovulating." he notes after sniffing your skin... and you do a double take like he's insane. Because he is insane — you married a madman.

He pays closer attention to your cycle than you do, reminding you to mark down when you get your period, and coddling you in the days leading up to ovulation.

"Satoru, it's just an estimation." you tell him, but he's got a glow in his eyes when he sees your period tracker app telling him that today's your most fertile day — if he cums in you today, it's basically guaranteed.

He researches positions that help conception, bends and pushes you into them, and fucks you deep with his thick cock, going harder on your poor hole than he normally does — grunting more than he normally does, throbbing more than he normally does... like it just awakens something primal in him, and now he's obsessively fucking you like he has no other purpose but to breed his sweet little wife.

"Nn! Satoruuu!" you whine and paw at his torso, your walls overwhelmed by the pressure of his cock splitting you open.

"Yes babyyy?" he coos, giving you a crooked, blissed-out smile as he tilts his head.

There's sweat dripping off his abs, his pink nipples are hard, his biceps are twitching, and he's running one hand through his dampened white hair as he stills inside you for a moment.

"'s too deep! T-too big!" you moan lewdly, a bit of drool escaping the corner of your mouth.

"...aw, I know I'm just too big for ya, huh?" he coos cockily; hearing you tell him that he's 'too big' never gets old.

He's so determined to give you his baby that he tries everything to increase the chances; staying inside you for 5 minutes after shooting his load in, having you rest with a pillow under your back so your hips are raised — "Gotta help my lil' guys swim." he acts like an idiot about it, but sweetly so. Nothing excites him more than the idea of being a dad, except the idea of fathering your children.

After sex, when the two of you are cleaning up, Satoru feels over and massages your tummy with a small smile on his face. He's lost in thought, hair all messy and face tired like he's run a marathon, hopeful that this time he got you pregnant.

He'll pamper you like his queen, humming and going to the ends of the earth to get you anything you ask for. He really fawns over you when you're ovulating, and lays on the compliments thick while snuggling your neck and creeping his fingers up your thighs — pretty soon he'll sink them inside and stretch you out on them, preparing you for what he cutely calls "baby making" but is actually sweaty, nasty, kinky sex — there's a definite difference in the cute, snuggly sex and the literal breeding sessions no matter how much he plays it off.

"Satoru... my legs are still weak after this morning, give me a break, will you?"

"Aw come on, this is an innocent request... and if babymaking happens, it happens..." he mutters the last part under his breath.

"You're crazy."

But you know you're gonna fall for it after you take one look at his rock-hard, juicy pink, dummy big cock and those breeder balls.

He just beams victoriously when you hop over to him like a little bunny.

Satoru's pushes into you as deep as your pussy allows him, and then some more just to pressure your deepest spot, pinning your wrists down and whispering sultrily into your ear about how well you take him, how beautiful you look, how good it feels to fuck your fertile pussy knowing that he'll most definitely get you pregnant because his cum is perfect; thick and sticky and gooey and pungent, perfect just like he is — the cocky bastard.

When his creampies makes you cum, A-spot pressured with his pulsing tip, he grins so wide that you scold him about it.

"Stop grinning like a psychopath." you pant.

He just looks up at you, face hardly an inch away, and asks a dumb, smiley "D'you feel pregnant?" ... as if it happens so fast.

"Gee, I don't know, we should go again just to make sure — that was a joke, that was a joke! Nn! Satoru!" too late, he's flipping you over and slowly filling you up again.

And oh god Satoru loves sliding back in for round twos. The smell of sex and cum wafting up and hitting his nose just makes him plunge back into your cum-filled little hole with only one thing in mind and that is breeding you 'till you're stuffed to the max.

"Come on, y' gonna be a good wifey for me and get knocked up?" he rasps against your ear, thrusting his cock up into your sensitive spots until his creampies turn into whipped cream, frothed up and milky-white and smeared on your pussy lips.

Like the nasty boy he is (and always has been, even before marriage), Satoru forces your head down and makes you watch him fuck his dummy big cock into you.

"Yeah, watch that cock fill you up... look at all my cum leaking out..." he tuts, "... don't be so wasteful, baby... oh well, 'm gonna fuck it back into you anyways. Come on, let me in deeper — aw, what's wrong?" he coos when you claw at his meaty bicep.

"'toruuu, so deep! Y-you're so fucking deep, I can't think..."

His heart pangs when he hears you complain about being too stuffed, "Oh baby you don't need to think, just lay there and let me put a baby in your sweet pussy — gonna fuck you so dumb, the only name you'll remember is mine."

Of course, he has to get a creampie in every day. Sometimes even a few times a day. Sometimes even at 4 AM, and you swat him for being a horny idiot — but it takes five minutes to give in because you can hear the need in his voice when he whines "Please?" and starts humping against you, "I've got so much cum for you." he tells you and though it sounds so sweet in his soft, bedroom voice it's hard to take him as an innocent man, because his thick boner is grinding hard and hot between your plush lips.

You can bet you'll probably only get to sleep when the birds are chirping, 'cause your hubby's balls are too heavy and full of cum and he needs to drain himself inside you — oh, and you can also bet that afterwards he will be sleeping like a princess, clinging to you with his face snuggled into your tummy.

[crysbeatsmaker]

(Digital Creep)

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

i watched My Neighbor Totoro for the first time, here's my chronological viewing experience:

woo-hoo! dusty old japanese house with japanese architectural details aplenty

these kids got some ENERGY my goodness

family dynamic's adorable. peak quality dad humor

kids: our house is haunted. parents: that's so cool!

hell yeah, wrinkled old lady rep. we need more friendly old women with potato faces and warts like storybook witches. the backbone of society, these ladies

Plot Summary: Small Child Bothers Local Wildlife

sacred tree sacred tree sacred tree

Introducing Totoro! nobody said this fucker's got TEETH???

Uh-Oh! Inadequate Parental Supervision Detected

(you misplaced your four year old! you're not supposed to do that)

4-year-old: i met a magic forest spirit. dad: oh shit fr?

4-year-old: *angrily hugs sister* missed u bitch

this small child has a smile like a toad. like a really really cute toad. like the cutest toad in all existence. i love her she's perfection please just let this child be happy

rice paddies are so pretty....so back breaking....rice is such a prissy crop

*my crush is stranded in a rainstorm* takethisumbrellait'syoursnowBYE *runs away in panic im so good at flirting*

Giant Chinchilla Learns To Hold Umbrella, Is Fucking Delighted By Experience

take this, it will help you on your quest! *hands u trail mix wrapped in a leaf*

LO-FI HIP HOP STUDY LIST!

crouching down to peer at dirt--A++ top notch foundational childhood experience

mom has a big ass forehead

honey! the chinchillas are performing Rituals in the backyard again

help yeah let's jack and the bean stalk this shit

huh so we're all just climbing aboard the giant chinchilla's tiddies now ok

class trip!

the pure adrenaline of Vegetable Gardening

no! the small child is crying! she is bawling her eyes out. no no no. i can't cope with this. emotionally i cannot cope 🥺🥺🥺

i've only had Mei one hour but if anything happens to her i will raze this earth and everyone on it

please someone make this small child smile again

oh no the tall child is crying too

i can't take this. my heart can't take this.

i need a drink

small child running determined to deliver magic veggies to the hospital. this kid is my hero

she is also unsupervised. so, so unsupervised

babe you are FOUR

godDAMMIT ghibli, you cannot give me watercolor sunsets while a small child is missing. u are killing me. my heart is giving out. this is me, experiencing heart failure.

Totoro to the rescue!

no wait CATBUS to the rescue!

i admit i initially thought the cat was a creep. alice in wonderland prejudiced me. i have revised my notions of smiling cats

i've decided the cat is a metaphor for the magic of a robust public transport system

MEI'S OKAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and so is mom. she's a lovely lady im sorry for what i said about her forehead. it's a noble forehead.

happy ending YES bitch!!!!!!

ok. ok ok ok. that was magical.

(as a first-time adult viewer i was worried i wouldn't be able to Access the Magic. but i could and i did and it was incredible. that was culture. that was ART. joy distilled into animated form. holy rites of childhood. i understand now. how glorious, this world we grow out of. how full of marvels. i'm going outside to smell grass and sun and get dirt under my fingernails. miraculous.)

[classyrbf]

aaaaa plzzz do nanami getting a boner when y/n is speaking to him and they end up fucking? (Established relationship)

<33

YOU TURN ME ON! — NANAMI KENTO

SYNOPSIS...nanami is so easily turned on when it comes to you, he can’t help but get hard at the slightest things

INFO...nanami x fem!reader, established relationship, reverse cowgirl, praise, spanking, creampie, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thanks for the request anon!

“So how was your day?” You asked your husband as he loosened his tie, a long sigh leaving his lips as he slipped his jacket off.

“The usual. I don’t wanna bore you,” he chuckled. He sat at the edge of the bed, removing his shoes and tossing them to the side. He could feel the bed dip behind him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. His eyes closed shut, embracing your warmth. “How was your day, darling?” He asked.

You hopped off of the bed in front of him, grabbing his shoes from the floor and placing them on the rack. “Well, I went to the mall today!” You smiled.

“Yeah? You buy anything?” He grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles while he stared at you in adoration. He couldn’t be more lucky to have you as his wife.

“Actually, I did. There was this cute dress that I wanted. You remember the one I showed you?” You asked. He nodded in response, a small smile creeping up on his face. “Well I found it in my size, and it was the last one. But, Ken, it’s so much prettier in person!” You said with excitement. Running over to the closet, you pulled the dress off the rack and held it up. “What do you think?”

“I think the color goes great with your skin. Makes it glow,” he explained. He could see the smile widen on your face. He loves when you get excited about the little things in life.

“Awe thank you, Ken,” you giggled, turning around to put the dress back on the rack. His eyes scanned over your figure, the shorts that exposed your legs, the tank top you wore making it obvious your nipples were hard. “Ken!” You shout.

“Huh?” He looks up at you, blinking away his confusion. He could feel his slacks slightly tighten as he shifted in his spot on the bed.

“I was talking about the new bed set I saw in the mall. Did you hear me?” You walked over to him, straddling his lap.

“I’m sorry, love, I didn’t. Please, tell me again.” His hands rest on your waist, gently caressing your skin as you began talking again. He stared at you as your mouth moved, going on and on about how you think it’ll match the room. “You should’ve gotten it,” he said.

“I know, but I wanted your opinion first!” You whine. “After all, you sleep here too.” You peck his lips. Nanami let out a small groan, pushing his hips back. “You okay?” You ask, looking at him with concern.

“Yeah, it’s just…um…” Nanami let out a breath, trying to hide the fact he got turned on just from you talking about your day and walking around the room. It was quite embarrassing. But with each passing second you were on his lap, he was getting harder. “Darling, I’m sorry, I’m hard.” He looked up at you.

“Oh…oh!” You laugh, hiding your face in his neck. “Ken, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you say.

“I know, but you didn’t even do anything sexual, I just don’t want to make it seem like I’m some kind of perv—”

“What’s wrong with a man being attracted to his wife?” You question, staring into his eyes.

“Sweetheart, please don’t look at me like that…fuck,” he whispers under his breath. Within seconds, you push Nanami onto the bed, catching him by surprise. Your hands are moving quick to undo his belt. “You don’t have to—”

“Shush, Ken,” you demand, pulling down his pants. His cock springs free, already dripping with precum. “How are you so hard already?” You giggle, feeling arousal pool in your panties.

“You turn me on, darling.” He props himself up on his elbows as you remove your clothing, kicking aside your shorts and panties. Your crawl onto the bed, faces inches apart before you plant your lips on his, tongues moving against one another, biting down on his bottom lip. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you too, Ken.” You peck his lips once more before turning your back towards him, angling yourself above his cock. You lift your hips just so enough so you can slowly sink down, feeling the stretch. A small gasp leaves your lips, a groan escaping from your husband.

“Fuck you’re so warm and tight,” he breathes, his hands coming up to squeeze your ass while you bounce on his cock. He’s entranced at the way his dick completely disappears into your cunt, sucking him in without hesitation.

You start to pick up the pace, growing more comfortable as your hips move faster, your juices dripping down his shaft. “Ah! Yes!” You hold onto his legs for support, while he watches the way your ass ripples against his dick. “Shit!” You wince, throwing your head back.

“Atta girl. There you go, sweetheart.” He lands a slap on your ass, guiding it up and down his cock. “Oh fuck, you always you always make me feel so good,” he moans. Your pussy clenches around him as you continue to slam your hips against his.

You reach your hand down to rub your clit in circles, adding to the stimulation as his cock hit your g-spot over and over. Pleasure coursed through your body, aching badly for an orgasm. Whimpers and moans from you and Nanami filled your bedroom, along with the sound of skin on skin. “Ohhh, Ken!” You whined. “Shit, baby!” You panted.

“You’re doing so good for me. Look back at me, darling, I wanna see my pretty girl.” His brows furrowed slightly as you milked his cock, he could tell you were getting desperate to cum. “There’s my girl. Keep looking at me while you ride me.”

You bit your bottom lip, muffling some of your moans and whimpers, trying your best to keep the exact rhythm you had going. Nanami cursed under his breath, eyes darting back and forth between your face and your ass. He couldn’t get enough of you. The way his tip kissed you cervix and bumped your sweet spot each time made your head spin. The curve of his dick making you arch even more.

Thick fingers squeeze the plump flesh of your ass, stuttering hips still set on riding him. “Fuck…s-slow down, sweetheart—ah! You’re gonna make me cum.” He grabs at your hips, a weak attempt to slow down your movements, but you’re so set on fucking him, feeling every last inch of your husband. You don’t care how much of a mess you make, how loud you get. It turns you on knowing your husband gets so worked up about the little things. A groan leaves his lips, head falling back in bliss as you practically ride him to cloud nine, his orgasm approaching just as quickly as yours.

Your little pants and whimpers fill his ears, eyes set on your husband glossy eyes, so fixated on the way your pussy is suck him in. His abs tense up, hand squeezing down on your ass and pulling you flush against his pelvis as he cums inside of you. The sheer feeling alone sends your orgasm raking through your body, quivering. “Oh my god!” You gasp, eyes fluttering shut. You slowly lift your hips before bringing them back down, fucking his cum into you.

“Yes, yes, just like that, baby,” he coos, watching his cum ooze out of your sweet cunt. “Goddamn,” he sighs when you finally stop riding him. His dick twitches at the missed sensation of your gummy walls.

“If I knew just how easily I turn you on, I would’ve done this more often,” you tease, placing a wet kiss on his neck.

“Should’ve known already, pretty girl.” He playfully smacks your ass, earning a small laugh from you. “We’ll clean up in second, just give me a few.”

[frenchie-simone]

Physicality

Logan Howlett x fem!mutant!reader

word count: 2.8k

tags/warnings: SMUT 18+, reader is some kind of wolf/dog-ish mutant but no tail/ears described, reader has hair, reader is in heat, unprotected piv, creampie, logan has a pain kink (duh)

a/n: y’all i wrote this because i sometimes do feel like a bitch in heat, so this is self-indulgent as it always is. a tiny bit rushed so it’s not the best but i think it’s alright. if i forgot tags or warnings lmk!!

Today marks the day that you've officially been a part of the X-Men for six months. Your first mission feels like an eternity ago, perhaps because you're so busy every day, no day quite like the previous one. Being an X-Man means two things to you: dangerous missions and physics classes.

Oh, and of course, the massive crush you have on Logan. He doesn't know, how could he, when you cover up your feelings with snarky comments and distant behaviour? Logan doesn’t question why your anger seems to be directed at him the most, he just thinks you hate him more than you hate the average person. It’s partly true, you hate him for the way he makes you feel. More than that, you hate the fact that it's a full moon tonight.

It's after school hours, and you're preparing yourself for spending the night in the forest. You grade the physics homework, take a shower, change to more comfortable clothes and eventually sneak out of your room, trying to avoid anyone asking questions. It’s evening and the sun is setting early, so you decide it safer to leave the mansion now, just in case.

You greet students downstairs, and thankfully no one decides to chat more than that. You make it out to the courtyard without anyone interrupting you. You hop the fence and head towards the entrance to the forest, but your heightened senses pick up a familiar musky smell. You stop in your tracks and mutter a “fuck” under your breath before turning around. To no one’s surprise, you find Logan trying to follow you. He widens his eyes, but quickly regains his composure, his usual smirk creeping on his face. His gorgeous face…

“Were you following me?” you ask and cross your arms, glaring at Logan. He huffs a laugh and props a hand on his hip.

“Yeah. Was curious as to where you're sneaking out on a Tuesday” he says casually and raises an expectant brow, waiting for an explanation. You clench your jaw and look away, trying to figure out a plausible excuse.

“It’s a full moon tonight. I just wanted to watch the sky. In peace” you emphasize the last word. It’s getting darker by the second, and the minute the sun leaves the horizon, it's too late. Logan can't be near you tonight. You already feel the heat simmering on your skin despite the cool breeze.

Logan scrunches his eyebrows and looks at you, unconvinced. And yet, he only exhales and nods. “Alright, sweetheart. Just try not to get mauled by wolves, will ya?” he says with a smirk. If only he knew you were the wolf to look out for. You roll your eyes at him and mutter some curses under your breath before turning around and walking deeper into the woods.

It’s midnight and the sun has set. You're located deep in the forest, far from other people. The heat is getting to you now. Your muscles are twitching, your core is aching and it feels like your blood is boiling. You sit down and lean against a tree trunk, not caring about the dirt ruining your clothes, panting and trying to calm yourself down. You know that pleasuring yourself won't fix it, but it'll at least bring temporary relief. You slide your hand down your pants and under your panties and start massaging your clit. Pictures of Logan pop into your mind; images of him shirtless, sweaty, just after a workout… you can't help but imagine what he would look like on top of you. Or under. Or from the side.

“Logan…” you can't help but moan his name at the thought. Even imagining him is bringing you close to finishing. You move your fingers from your bud and curl them inside you, inside your already soaking pussy, and press your palm down on your bundle of nerves. You add another finger and start pumping slowly at first, but you lose your cool almost immediately. Your pace quickly becomes fast and hard, and with Logan's face and body plastered on the wall of your mind, you release on your fingers in record time. You mutter a "fuck" at how quickly you came because the ache comes back almost as fast as you finished. You lean your head against the tree and groan in annoyance, before bringing your fingers into your mouth to clean them. It hurts so much, it throbs and aches, so you bury your head in your knees and try to distract yourself from the pain that you can't fix yourself. You try to think about your next physics lesson, upcoming missions, and what you'll do on the weekend... and for a while, it works. Until you hear a twig crack and snap your head towards the sound.

You'd been so lost in your thoughts that you hadn't smelled Logan approaching. Now he's appearing through the trees, searching for you. And that musky, earthy scent of him is even stronger to you in your current state, and your nose twitches involuntarily. He sees you crouched on the ground, dishevelled and seemingly exhausted, and he quickly rushes to you. Worry etches his face as he kneels before you and places a hand on your knee. "Sweetheart, what happened? Are you alright?" he asks, searching your body for cuts or bruises. You swallow and look down at his large hand touching you.

"I'm fine, but you really shouldn't be here" you try to tell him, your voice shaky. He furrows his brows and gently strokes your knee, the worry still there. "Don't lie to me, Wolves. What's up?" he pushes, not listening to your dismissals anymore. You lightly shudder under his touch and your breath quickens. You try to calm yourself, but it's no use. "Logan, I'm serious. This is something I gotta deal with alone" you manage to say between shallow breaths. His hand stops stroking and slightly tightens its grip on you. "I'm not leaving 'til you tell me what's going on" he says with a stern voice. You can tell he means it. You swallow your pride and just decide to give him the truth.

"I'm in heat. You know, like an animal…" you mutter and look down, embarrassed to admit it. When he doesn't answer you, you carefully glance up. His eyes have gone wide and you hear him take a shaky breath. Oh fuck, did you make him uncomfortable? You turn your head to the side to avoid his face and you feel shame creeping on your cheeks.

"Hey, it's okay... I was just taken by surprise, I had no idea..." he explains after seeing you turn your head away. You turn your gaze towards him again, and he doesn't appear disgusted or uncomfortable, just a little... nervous. Logan takes a deep breath before speaking again: "Do you..." he clears his throat, "want me to help you?"

Your mouth falls agape at his words and your eyes widen. He can't mean what you think he is, right?

"How?" you ask him, eyes still blown wide. He rubs the back of his neck, unsure how to phrase it. "You know... take care of you," he says and looks at you, anxiously waiting for your reaction. You didn't think he'd actually suggest it, but now that he did, your body goes hot all over. You try to play cool even as you hear your heartbeat in your ears. "I couldn't possibly make you do that, Logan. It doesn't feel right" you answer with your remaining sensibility, but your urges and instincts strongly disagree. You look down at your knees, trying to hide the pleading in your eyes. Logan only scooches closer to you and takes your chin in his hand and tilts your head towards him.

"You're not making me, Wolves. I want to help you, wanna make you feel good. C'mon, let me take care of you" he assures you and holds eye contact, wanting to show you he means it. His words, his closeness, his tenderness... it's too much to refuse. You can't control your urges anymore.

You bite down on your lip to keep in any pathetic whines, but the way he looks at you is like an invitation to pounce on him. Before you can register what you're doing, you're pressing your lips to his. You only get a taste before you realize what you're doing and quickly pull away. "Shit. I'm sorry" you mutter and move away. You see his jaw clench, and you think you’ve upset him. The thought makes your heart drop.

Until he grabs your neck and smashes his lips on yours. You whimper at the sudden movement, but you quickly kiss him back. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. He groans against your mouth, before his tongue runs along your lower lip, asking for permission to enter. You part your lips instinctively and he doesn't waste a second shoving his tongue in your mouth. Your own tongue quickly joins in, until you're both devouring each other with such passion and hunger that it makes your head spin and core overheat. Logan sits down on the ground without parting his lips from yours and pulls you down with him, and you adjust your thighs to straddle him.

Neither Logan nor you thought this was how your first time would go, but neither of you could foresee this. All your sensibility, rationality and critical thinking were thrown out the window, and all you can think about is his large, muscular, perfect body under yours. In the heat of the moment, you start subconsciously grinding your core against his already stonehard length. His hands fly on your hips to guide you, and he groans against your mouth at the friction. You pull away only to catch your breath, still rocking against him, and your hands go to lace themselves in his brown hair. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, panting against his skin, but the need for more becomes too strong.

“Please, Logan… I need you inside me” you practically whine, teeth sinking into his neck in an attempt to muffle your pathetic whines and mewls. Logan groans at the sting of your teeth in his neck, and if you’d see his face, you’d notice his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Mmh, you’ll get what you need, sweet girl. I’ll take good care of you” Logan coos into your ear, lifting you up and placing you to lie back on the ground. He’d like to take his time, draw out your pleasure, but Logan can sense the urgency of your situation. You start quickly unbuttoning your pants, needing to get him inside before the painful throbbing of your pussy becomes too much to bear. Logan complies, starting to unbuckle his belt, although he’d very much like to see you naked, to see that skin he’s been dreaming about ever since he laid eyes on you. Another time, he thinks to himself.

You pull your pants off hastily, while your eyes are fixed on Logan’s bulge still hidden beneath the fabric. When you’re in just your panties, you start helping him, or at least you try to, but you’re just fumbling with the zipper because of the hurry you’re in. Logan can’t help but smirk to himself, but he makes no comment, knowing you’re more than just desperate. He pulls down his jeans along with his boxers, freeing has impressive and extremely hard length, the tip already leaking pre-cum. Your eyes widen at the sight, and you feel your walls clench around nothing. You’d like nothing more than to run your tongue over his prominent vein, or take his cock down your throat. That’ll have to wait for another time.

You pull Logan closer by hooking your legs around his waist, and he falls forward with a grunt, but quickly steadies himself on his forearms. You don’t even take off your drenched panties, you just pull them to the side, waiting for him to give you exactly what you want and need.

“You sure you want this, darlin’?” Logan asks you, giving you one more chance to change your name. You quickly nod your head, grabbing ahold of his dick and guiding it to your entrance.

“Words, baby” Logan tsks at you, wanting verbal confirmation. You mentally groan, feeling like if you opened your mouth you won’t be able to shut it. “Yes, fuck, I want it. Need you” you pathetically beg, still trying to pull him closer.

Logan straight up growls as he finally caves, despite that nagging feeling in the back of his head telling him this is wrong. That he’s taking advantage of a poor bitch in heat. He quickly realises the guilt is not enough to stop him. In one hard thrust, Logan sheathes himself inside you, and you gasp at the sudden but very welcome intrusion. He’s already panting heavily, trying to take it slow, as to not hurt you. Too bad you’re not having it.

“Please move, Logan…” you whine, trying to rock into his shaft. Logan’s large palm quickly moves to pin your hip down, and before you can protest, he pulls out almost all the way, before slamming into you. You cry out in pleasure, your hands flying up to claw at his shoulders. Logan buries his face in your neck, as he repeats the motions, going slow but incredibly deep inside you, you can feel him in your tummy. Your walls are squeezing him so tight, he can’t help but groan, trying to muffle his noises against your skin. He moves his arms to wrap underneath you as he now picks up his pace, unable to go slow when it comes to you. You moan at the increased speed, your sharp nails scratching down his arms, and to your surprise, he lets out a moan at the sting.

“Fuck, baby… gonna come before you if you keep that up” Logan grunts, but makes no effort to slow down. You start trying to meet his thrusts with your hips, but Logan is not having it. He holds you tighter, fucking you down on his cock. He frees one hand from underneath you, moving it between your bodies to rapidly draw circles your swollen clit. You whine at the added sensation, your back arching off the ground.

“I’m gonna- fuck!” you cry out, unable to finish your sentence as your orgasm suddenly crashes down on you with a brutal force. Your nerve endings are lit on fire, but in the best way, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as you’re struggling to stay grounded. Logan holds you through it, just whispering sweet nothings to you:

“That’s it, baby. I’ve gotcha.”

“Did so good for me…”

Logan helps brings you down from the high, and for the first time in days, that seemingly insatiable hunger that had been residing in the pit of your stomach is gone. But not for long.

“Logan, I want you to cum in me, please…” you whine, your weak thighs shaking as you try to pin him to your pussy. Logan groans, knowing he really shouldn’t. It’s reckless, irresponsible, but how can he refuse you when you’re being so pathetic and needy for him to fill you up?

Logan lifts you up from the ground with effortlessly, making you straddle his thighs. He holds you down on his cock as he starts thrusting up into you, now just chasing his own release. You whimper as he pierces you on his dick, but you take it, more than willingly. It doesn’t take long, until he’s coming with a strained groan, holding you down on him, his grip so tight it’ll bruise. You feel his warm spend coat your inner walls, filling you up to the brim as he pumps himself empty. You let out an almost obscene moan as you cum on his cock again, the remnants or your previous orgasm not having faded.

“Fuck, Wolves… I shouldn’t have done that” Logan murmurs into your ear but with a slight grin betraying his words, and you can only giggle in response. There was no regret in either of you, you’ll worry about plan B tomorrow. If you remember…

You sit on his lap for a few moments, letting him catch his breath. For only a split second, you’re aware of the fact that you’re in the middle of a forest, both of your clothes covered in dirt, and you’re pretty sure you feel a leaf in your hair. When you feel him soften in you, you look up from his neck, admiring his face for a second. Your lips curl into a small smile.

“You didn’t think we were done, did you?”

[andersonfilms]

#001. THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT.

❝ ABBY!ANDERSON SERIES ❞

warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: lowkey loser!reader, voyerisum, dub-con, dildo penetration (abby!r), minors hop off my shit, friends to lovers (eventually), nerdy!abby.

....AND THEY WERE ROOMATES, she’s always been just abby to you. best friends and thick as thieves. sweet as can be, breathing shy naivety with ever inhale of oxygen — a walking angel on earth. a gentle remainder of what’s good but looks can be so convincing? can’t they?

you aren’t supposed to be home, but it’s a slow night of bartending, so you’re sent early. pushing yourself into the front door despite your aching muscles, dispensing your keys in the small bowl, before grabbing yourself a cold glass of water. chugging it from the chilled glass, the cool liquid sending a sensation down your throat.

something feels off but you ignore it. 

funneling into your room, discarding your pants along with your tank left only in your undergarments. the tension has been building in your shoulders all night. the overwhelming stress of not making enough tips to cover your rent, classes in the morning, as well as the kink in your neck. you need to relieve yourself from all of it. a feather filled duvet has never looked so inviting, parallel with the vibrator tucked away into your night stand. 

bang! bang! bang! 

what the hell? 

taking a final sip from your water, you venture into the living room grabbing the bat next to your bedroom door. ready to swing, you’re met with silence in the still empty living room. odd. 

bat in your stronghold, your sock clad feet patter up the stairs into your roommate’s area of the apartment when you hear moans. soft, whimpering, moans. was she? no. it’s abby for fucksake. she’s too anxious to talk about sex with others much less fuck with her clit while you’re home. 

but you’re not supposed to be home and you’re intrigued. you shouldn’t be but you are. 

against the hardwood floors, your feet are quiet as you bring yourself closer to her room. her moans are louder, you try to ignore the throbbing of your clit, thighs nudging together as abby sounds like an angel — solely sent for your pleasure. 

the cream door is cracked open halfway and it’s then when you see her. for the first time, it’s all of her. the fucking bat nearly drops to the floor, but you catch it and cradle it to your chest as you take the scene in. 

entranced is the only way to describe it. she had lights, her phone propped up with an additional camera while they filmed the show she so clearly was putting it on. blonde hair cascades down her freckled back, completely bare ass on full display, unknowingly for your greedy eyes. 

you need to look away. she’s your best friend. stop. you’re being a fucking creep but then she’s bouncing on the dildo. 

fucking hell. 

your friend, the one you tease endlessly, the shy nerdy girl who can barely say two words when a pretty girl tries to speak with her is fucking herself on a baby blue dildo and filming it. for the first time, you’re seeing abby differently. it almost pains you. 

exquisite, golden hair shines in the moonlight as her delicious hips roll. she finds a rhythm that’s comfortable letting out a collection of whines and moans. the sound of her slick combined with the headboard hitting the wall over and over due to the power of her weight sends you into a frenzy. you’re thighs have never rubbed together so harshly, trying to satiate a need. if you could, you’d moan for her but the fear of being caught strikes you down but it’s festering within you. 

it’s growing. god, it’s for her only. 

you’re paralyzed with arousal but you need to leave. right fucking now before you cum. pathetically, you think you can just from watching her. abby’s soft voice practically nails your soft palms to the walls, crucifying you with every unspeakable desire. pink lips let them fly, gratifying you and somehow breaking the impenetrable wall between the two of you. 

“cock is so big, s’hard to take all of it.” abby whimpers, arching her back while her palms support her weight as she splits her pussy on the dildo. “yeah, you like that? mmm, love when my pussy swallows you whole, huh?” 

she lays her full cheeks on the mattress, pretty face pushed against the sheets as abby gives her audience a better view. she sounds goddamn breathtaking going nice and slow, her lower lips spreading so beautifully. this deserves to be painted and displayed in art galleries. 

the way she moves, golden strands moving as if she’s controlling every movement. abby anderson is fucking art. nowhere to be found is the shy, nose stuffed in her books, abby. this version of her is so different it’s causing you to see stars. 

moving her hips you didn’t even know was possible. you can’t even process fit her body actually is, the one she hides away. suffocated by thick cable knit sweaters, loose button downs concealing her burling biceps, and the chinos she wears on a daily basis. all of it is more than you can stomach. 

“like looking at my pussy, baby?” abby giggles. fucking giggles. “splitting my pussy open, feel you s’deep, almost in my stomach. yeah?” 

the urge to slip your fingers inside your pussy and touch yourself while she fucks herself is right there but you can seem to do it. settling for pressed thighs and tight grip on bat while you breath heavily. unable to catch on breath. 

“why don’t i spread it for you? give you a better view. after all, im such a sweetheart.” with one free hand, she pulls at the fat of her ass and you nearly choke on the air around you. her puckered hole, the sweet sin of her cunt staring right at you while you salivate. it pools to the floor along with your dignity. 

she leaves the shot there for a moment, letting her viewers tune in to take all of her in before she lets go. the fat of her ass bounces, increasing her speed as she slams over herself on the cock. the audacity of you to never think of her like this because fuck, this is everything. 

you want to be the one fucking her. your fingers pulling at her golden strands, pretty face smudged against the mattress as you take her from behind. a curious mind wonders what she would say to you, how good she would be taking it from behind. molding her strong body into whatever you fucking want. would she let you? 

abby’s voice breaks through the stance she has you under, permitting you of daydreaming any longer. instead, your eyes focus on the way she fucks herself. 

“need to stuff my pussy full, don’t you? s’all you can think about, yeah…i know. making a pretty girl like me cum is your fucking dream.” her back arcs, giving them a better view of her. another piece for everyone to enjoy, you included. 

her voice breaks, irrevocably but abby tries again. “t-this is what you wanted all this time? for me to be your whore? show you how much of a slut i can be?” you feel it in your stomach. the light pressure building as you clench your pussy around nothing, your thighs rubbing together continuously. if she cums, fuck, you won’t be able to control yourself. 

“i’ll do whatever you want. it’s all for you.” you’re fucking lost. abby picks up the pace, the way her hips stutter indicates she’s so close. without even touching yourself, you are too. “no one else can make me feel like this, i—”a low groan leaves her lips, the echoes of her slick invade your senses. jesus christ, you would do anything to taste her. 

abby doesn’t say much until she’s reaching her peak. just loud moans, intoxicating whimpers, and delicious sound of her cunt being fucked again, and again, and again. then you take note of her shakes, beautiful thighs trembling as they fail under the undeniable pleasure coursing through her veins. 

“s’close, gonna cum. fuckfuckfuck!” you see her white, hot cum soak the dildo, white substance spilling over sun-kissed skin, staining the sheets. it’s fucking everywhere. abby doesn’t stop. as if she knows you’re watching and wants to torture you. 

“please come for me baby? mommy needs your cum. gonna give it to me, yeah? i’m your sweet girl after all.” just like that, you lose it. white coated cum covers your boxers, staining you through. you feel every nerve in your body coated in her, begging to be trenched in her touch. 

“yeah? that’s it. s’all mine. just like you, baby. my fucking pussy.” your entire body twitches, clit throbbing at her words. only thing you hear is her heavy breaths slowing down as abby slowly calms herself. 

even when she’s shaking, trembling, she fucks herself through it. you can’t look away. not when she’s made you cum like that. no one’s ever made you cum with voice alone. abby’s soothing tone scratches the surface of the unbridled desire bumbling out of you. now, you’ll be sick until you can have her. is it pathetic? maybe. but your hands are greedy, aching to touch every inch of her body, make her feel whatever she wants. 

you make yourself scarce. the stakes of getting caught too high. shame. the overwhelming feeling almost settles instantly but you find it withering the more you think about the tsunami wave of the orgasm she unknowingly gifted you. 

with every passing moment, each turn in your sleep, you feel guilty for watching for as long as you did. you can’t sleep. always thinking of her. every waking moment is always about her. you’ll never be able to see abby the same. maybe it’ll be your demise or your saving grace. for now, all you can do is welcome the all consuming passion that is her. your dorky best friend and roommate who certainly does know how to fuck.

[lex-the-flex]

Misty Mornings

Origins!Logan Howlett x reader

Summary: On this particular morning, Logan is in need of a shave, and you’re more than happy to take on the job.

Word Count: 650

Warning(s): None, PURE FLUFF! (Cause Logan deserves it). A tiny amount of nervousness.

A/N: If I had a man that would let me do this, I’d be his forever. (Basically a MEGA GREEN FLAG) Feedback is appreciated and enjoy!

The low coo of multiple mourning doves echo across the woods lingering beyond your backyard. The strong scent of the early morning lake balances itself against the soft and subtle fog hovering over the calm water as the morning sun threatens to break the cool air. Pulling your knitted blanket closer, a calm breeze welcomes the ambiance and colors of Autumn to the secluded place you call home. 

Being fully engrossed in your novel, you don’t hear Logan walking down the dock. Turning the page, the creaking sound of the wooden deck brings you back to reality.

“Baby?” He asks. 

“Hi, Lo.” You respond. 

Closing your book, you stand up to greet Logan with a warm hug. Extending on your toes, he briefly presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“What are you doing out here? You’ll catch a cold.” Logan replies. 

“It’s not snowing yet, babe. Trust me.” You smile, before reaching down to pick up your book. 

Offering his hand to you, you close your palm around Logan’s fingers as he leads you back towards the elegant two storied cabin. Folding your blanket, you throw it on the back of an armchair along with your book. 

Following Logan into the kitchen, you hop up on the granite countertop, and he turns on the coffee pot. Gazing up at Logan, you hum to yourself at the sight before you. 

“What is it?” He asks with a sly grin. 

“Nothin’. I’m just not used to you ever being in the kitchen. It’s still strange to me.” You explain. 

“Oh, yeah? And how long have we been together?” Logan questions, walking to you. 

Placing both of his hands on either side of your hips, you tilt your head backwards and wrap your arms around his large shoulders. Smiling, the two of you just gaze at each other lovingly for a moment, silently enjoying the peace. 

Running your fingers through Logan’s thick dark hair, he lightly chuckles when you move onto his slightly overgrown beard. 

“Hmm, you need to shave.” You firmly state, tickling his scruff. 

“Is that a threat, darlin’?” He teases. 

“Maybe… Will you let me trim your beard this time? Please?” You ask. 

Determined to get an answer, Logan finally agrees, ultimately losing the never-ending battle. 

Leaving you in the kitchen, Logan shortly returns with his shaving kit. Placing it on the counter next to you, he unzips the small leather pouch and takes out a pair of scissors. Handing them to you, Logan carefully returns his hands to your hips, eager to see what you’ll do. Softly cutting off pieces of your lover’s beard, you suddenly become focused on the task at hand, unaware of Logan’s loving and intrigued stare. 

HIs light hazel eyes glance deeply along the edges of your face, studying the details of your focused state. Unconsciously wrapping your legs around Logan’s waist, he slowly pulls you closer, wanting to be more intimate. Your heart begins to pound in your chest, nearing the end of your task. 

“I”m almost done, babe.” You whisper, flicking away the remnants of his beard. 

Finishing up, you set down the scissors and wipe Logan’s freshly trimmed jawline. 

“There you go, you’re all nice and clean.” You reply. 

“Mmm, thank you, Y/N. It feels so much better already. You should imagine it.” Logan teases. 

Lowering his lips to the nape of your neck, Logan playfully kisses the soft skin of your neck. Allowing you to feel the fresh scruff tickle you, a smile creeps on his lips whilst a gentle moan escapes your mouth. 

“Okay, cowboy… le–” You try, but can’t. 

Unable to push Logan away, you find yourself craving his touch even more. Tangling your fingers in his thick hair, his mouth searches for yours. Kissing you passionately, your fingers grip Logan’s strong muscles whilst he lifts you from the counter and carries you deeper into the house. 

wolverine masterlist ~

@dreamliners

@chronicallybubbly

@dontfeedthebigbadwolf

@the-resident-vampire

@ovaryacted

@misssarcasm15

@yellow-eyed-sams-wife

@lost-in-horrorland

@peterparkernotfound

@pcrushinnerd

@quillycrow

@till-hes-90

@the-moth-archives

@stilllivindue2spite

@wolviesgal

@mostly-marvel-musings

[stevenose]

contains: steve x reader; no pronouns used for reader; reader with a vagina; very high and very needy steve; high reader; blowjob

steve’s eyes are crossed, hooded, pupils blown out. he lounges back on the couch, locked into it. his legs spread wide, one hand gently resting on the top of your head. he has no energy to actually grip it.

it’s like he’s in a trance. a real one. a trance that you and a beautiful woman named mary jane have put him in. he’s so high, higher than he’s been in a while, but he’s content. so happy and god, does he love you.

you’re so pretty kneeling before him. bobbing your head real slow on his cock and gently cupping his balls, rolling them in your palm. your throat makes the most disgusting noises and it drives him wild. you’re being so messy, high as hell too, and all he can think about is how hot your mouth is, how tight your throat feels, how wet his cock his, from the tip to the couch under him. when your soft eyes look up through your lashes, he moans, all love-struck.

he wants to say so much. that he loves you, that you’re so pretty, that you feel so good, that you’re his best friend. and he sort of misses you down there - wishes you were in his lap, weighing him down, keeping him on earth. but he can’t really talk. just babbles, groans and moans, throwing his head back. those pretty moles on display. a few hickeys on display, too. he’ll worry about covering them up in the morning.

he’s so close and he keeps whining and pushing your forehead back when he gets like that, because he wants to prolong this. that tight feeling in his stomach, the sensitivity of his cock. he doesn’t want to cum and he wants to cum so badly at the same time. when he stops you, you always give him a minute, while he gasps for air and mumbles some more. til his hand is gently pushing you back in, groaning loudly when he’s back in your mouth.

“oh…. shh…. oh… fu-shhhhh….”

you giggle. he loves it. he’s a little jester for you. loves being it. wants to make you laugh all the time.

“ah!”

you pull off and use your hand on him instead. your voice is thick when you speak. “steve, you’re so goddamn hot.”

he nods. he knows it. sue him.

“want to taste your cum, baby.”

he whimpers.

“let me get you off, please? wanna see your face when you do. so pretty, such a pretty baby.”

steve keens, hips lifting off the couch. all you have to do is talk and he’ll cum. but you take pity, enveloping his shaft with your mouth again, playing with his balls and — holy shit — steve doesn’t know how to think. he makes noises that sort of sound like words. bites his lip so hard it starts bleeding. fingers squeezing the couch and your hair as hard as they can, though it isn’t much. he’s heaving, mouth open, making such beautiful noises, and then he’s spilling down your throat so hard his body shakes.

you’re smiling when you pull away. steve’s still reeling. panting, eyes literally crossed, so hooded it looks like they’re closed. you hop onto his lap, his cock pushing against your shorts, and he’s ready for more. you could take his soul and he’d be so happy about it.

“you okay?” you whisper, pushing his hair off of his sweaty forehead.

his hands creep towards your shorts, tugging at them. “ride… ride me.”

“think you’ve had enough, yeah?”

he shakes his head. grinds up into you and groans. “fuck me,” he moans. “h-hard.”

you kiss the tip of his nose. “i love you.”

“i love you. i love you i love you i love you i love you:”

you giggle. “say it again.”

“i love you.”

you push the crotch of your shorts to the side, sliding your soaked cunt against his soaked cock. “good boy.”

when you sink down, his brain melts.

[crushribbons]

𝖇𝖎𝖗𝖉𝖎𝖊, 𝖕𝖙. 𝖎𝖎

summary: Sebastian Sallow should have been a Ravenclaw, again. (series masterlist)

cw: 3.5k words, fluff, light angst-adjacent content but really just more pining, brief smut (18+ ONLY), oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, suggestions of dubcon, fem reader, i make you think abt seb in a towel again 😵‍💫 request

a/n: sorry for teasin' xx laney

The same annoying tendril of hair fell in her eye for the hundredth time that hour. She huffed hard in frustration and slapped it (and her own face, a bit) away, looking back down at the mostly-blank roll of parchment in front of her. The essay would not write itself, no matter how long she spent procrastinating by looking for and through any library books that would tell her how to get the essay to write itself. History of Magic was a special torture unlike any other. Might be best to pull out the old “dugbog ate my essay” routine on the impassive Professor Binns.

Besides, even if she had wanted to wax on about the Balkan Wizarding Summit of 1678 for several pages, she wouldn’t have been able to. Not with the thoughts that had been occupying the entirety of her brain since that fateful night two weeks ago. The night she kept finding herself returning to whenever her head hit her pillow, or whenever she had a quiet, absent moment brewing Wiggenweld in Potions, or whenever she walked or thought or breathed. The night when she’d witnessed her dear old chum Sebastian dripping wet out of the bath, water running down every line of his tanned and lightly freckled torso right to the top of a towel that was slung low on hips boasting a noticeable “V”, hair stuck to his forehead and cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The sight had floored her in such an unexpected way that a hysterical giggle had popped out of her mouth before she could stop it, and she saw Sebastian’s jaw tick in annoyance. 

As she’d walked away from the encounter, she had tried with all her might to pretend it hadn’t happened. It was funny, really, a silly and awkward little moment between two friends. That was all.

That was all, she’d reminded herself the next morning, brushing her teeth after a night of tossing and turning and peering at her puffy face in the bathroom mirror.

No great ordeal, she’d chastised her active imagination as she hopped on her broom and did a few laps around the Quidditch fields, hoping the bitter cold air would jolt her back to her senses.

And he probably doesn’t even remember it, she reasoned with herself every night while she closed the curtains around her bed, cast a silencing charm, and pulled her nightgown up around her waist. Sebastian had never been something to look at like that before, so why was she whining out his name every night, a hand that she desperately wished was his stuffed inside her underwear. 

This was Sebastian, she was dreaming about, after all. Her birdie, her inquisitive and acerbic classmate who seemed to need to know everything about her and whose laugh devolved into fits of snorting whenever he saw someone trip. And it wasn’t as if she’d seen him in the full nude; why was the sight of his bare chest and back sending her into such fits of ecstasy? It felt ridiculous, yet logic rarely won out over the way her heart pounded painfully whenever he made eye contact with her now.

Two days after the incident, they’d met in their usual seats in Transfiguration, and Sebastian had immediately broken the tension she was sure existed by bluntly saying, “I’m going to keep all my clothes on this time, I swear,” as she sat down beside him. She could feel red shame creeping up the back of her neck and prayed it wasn’t appearing over the top of her robes. 

“Good, I nearly had to go to the hospital wing and get my eyes removed after that,” she had sniffed in return, but both of them grinned and settled into their old routine of passing notes and coughing loudly whenever Ominis had to answer a question. For reasons unclear, it drove him mad.

Everything gradually fell back to normal, though she found that she could no longer use her affectionate nickname for him. She’d tried, once, when Sebastian had been pestering her for information on the Arithmancy exam she’d taken earlier in the day and that he was now staring down the barrel of. The stress had him grabbing at handfuls of his hair so they stuck out like he’d been hit with a blasting curse, and he’d begged for every detail she could remember, until she finally spluttered, “Questions, questions, questions! Leave me alone and go study yourself, birdie!” 

His mouth had clamped shut. Rare. Too rare. 

He had seemed so uncomfortable after that, shifting around in his chair so much and eventually getting to his feet and leaving with a weak joke, that she’d made up her mind never to call him birdie again. Clearly, he had lost his preference for it after their nighttime encounter, probably assuming condescension on her part. Nothing could be further than the truth; she just adored his incessant chirping so much that she wished she could carry him around on her finger all day. 

Whatever his thoughts on the matter were, something small had shifted between them that she couldn’t quite place her finger on. As the empty parchment roll looked glumly back at her in the dim candlelight of the library, she decided that she had had enough working for one day and slammed the tome in front of her shut. Dust flew everywhere and she spat it out of her mouth with disdain.

Trudging along to the Great Hall to see if there were any scraps of dinner still left, she considered a few other interactions with Sebastian and deemed them perfectly normal. The nickname was what seemed to set him off. Oh well, she sighed. Probably best that I don’t have a pet name for the man I can’t stop picturing naked, anyway.

Ominis and Sebastian were seated across from each other at the Slytherin table, and after passing by her own house table to snag a plate of shepherd’s pie and a small dessert, she sat down beside Sebastian and asked him how the Arithmancy exam had gone after all.

He screwed his eyes shut and groaned, his upper lip curling and head thrown back to expose his long neck. Her stomach swirled and she set the fork that had been on its way to her mouth back down. This man now made her lose all sense of reason. Her body was reacting in ways she wasn’t even familiar with now, all because of one stupid towel. “Oh, please don’t ask. I’ll be surprised if they even let me take my NEWT in Arithmancy. Horrendous.” 

She tried to pull herself together and respond as normal friends normally do. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. You always do wonderfully on exams and beat yourself up far more than you should,” she murmured evenly, picking at the pie. She turned to the man who looked far more appetizing. 

“Well, someone needs to,” he pouted, sticking his bottom lip out and resting his head on his hand as he looked at her. Ominis rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

“The ego on you,” he sighed, scraping the last bit of chocolate torte on his plate onto his fork. “Surprised your head doesn’t weigh down the rest of your body.” “It’s balanced out by the monster I’ve got down here,” Sebastian grinned like a devil and patted his upper thigh.

It’s a joke, it’s a joke, it’s a stupid joke made by a dumb boy with an ugly face and no sense of humor, it’s a joke. The mantra rattled around in her head for a few good seconds then drifted out her ears as she abandoned it in favor of considering what it might look like if he wasn’t joking. It was very unhelpful. 

She cleared her throat and pushed the shepherd’s pie away from her, replacing it with the dessert instead. It wasn’t until she scooped up a piece and brought it up to her mouth that her distracted brain realized what it was.

“Ah, my favorite again. Finally,” Sebastian said, and then he was leaning over her, hand resting on the top of her leg to steady himself as he intercepted the piece of cherry tart and pulled it off her fork with his teeth before she could eat it herself. Everything inside her shut down. Her mouth hung agape as she watched him hum in rapturous delight and chew the tart. He gave the top of her leg a swat and said, “All yours now. I’ve already had three.”

Words wouldn’t come. Thoughts wouldn’t come. Only the sensation of his large, warm hand pressing into her leg and the proximity of his face to hers as he’d stolen the bite existed. She had been able to smell whatever scent he wore, and it was something like pine needles and black pepper, although maybe that was just residual from a Herbology class. Even after he’d made a parting joke and climbed to his feet, Ominis and him exiting the hall engaged in a discussion of Quidditch prospects, the scent filled her nose and drove her light-headed. 

Having a massive, soul-sucking crush on your friend was not for the faint of heart, she decided, as she pushed the tart away, too, and left for her dormitory. Her insides were wound so tight she was worried they would snap, and her panties were so covered in slick by the time she reached her empty bedroom that she stripped down and tugged on her dressing gown. A bath, she needed a nice, hot bath to wash away the grime of her thoughts.

The dressing gown’s thin material slipped off her shoulders as she gathered clean pajamas and braided her hair up and off her neck, and she grunted with annoyance. She had really appreciated the gift of the robe, a hand-me-down from Poppy, but the aged and stretched cotton would not stay up on either of their shoulders. She tied the belt as tight as she could around her waist and slipped out of the dormitory, making her way through the sea of students sweating over homework and revisions in the common room.

The prefects’ bathroom sounded heavenly, especially as the cold stone floor of the castle bit through her thin slippers and the passing of a careless ghost’s cloak through her right shoulder left her shivering. She ambled up stairs and down them, through corridors, and used more than one hidden passage, old hat to her at this point, until she ended up in the faculty tower. Only a few more flights separated her and warm, soapy relief from the thoughts of Sebastian plaguing her. 

It wasn’t terribly late yet, and a couple Ravenclaw students mingled on the landing just below the bathrooms. They waved at her and she waved back, their names escaping her but giving them a jovial smile all the same. Beginning her final ascent, she watched the steps in front of her and tried to recall where she knew their faces from. She was still racking her brain for their identities when she ran into a wall.

“Ugh!” she cried, irritated that she had been jostled out of her thoughts by the unyielding stone. Then the stone did yield and she looked up, startled.

“We can’t keep meeting like this,” Sebastian said with raised eyebrows. He stood on the step above her, wearing dark blue pajamas, a towel slung over his shoulder and wet hair carefully parted and combed. Even fully-clothed, he took her breath away. As usual. A small knick under his jaw told her he’d cut himself shaving, and she wished with everything inside her that she could kiss the tiny cut. Not really friendship behavior, though.

She tried to clear her throat, searching for something witty to say in return. “No,” was what she finally came up with. “We can’t.” 

“Prefects’ bathroom is superior, isn’t it?”

“Mmmm.”

“Aren’t you glad to see I remembered these this time?” He plucked at the pinstripe pajama pants. 

No. “Yes, I certainly am.”

“Are you going to bed straight after?”

“I think so.”

“What time are you getting breakfast?”

“Is that enough questions yet?!” She spluttered, feeling her nerves recede a bit as his chirping tickled her. He smiled broadly.

“What else can you expect from your b-birdie?” He tripped over the last word and his smile faltered. Something unchecked in her chest stirred. Sebastian Sallow did not trip over his words. He picked each one carefully and considered the potential outcomes they would elicit in every situation. Why was this one ridiculous little pet name causing the both of them so much awkwardness?

She opened her mouth to try and tell him that she expected nothing less, but stopped when she saw his hazel eyes suddenly widen and travel down from her face to her chest. Before she had time to be confused, she realized that her shoulders were suddenly freezing and goosebumps had broken out over her clavicle. The damned dressing gown had once again slipped down, nearly to her elbows, and couldn’t pull it back up fast enough. A large swathe of her chest had been exposed, and despite the cold, heat flared in her sternum and rose up her neck to her face as she yanked the gown up and clutched it closed at her neck. 

“Fuck off, it was an accident,” she hissed without thinking when Sebastian’s eyes did not return to their normal size. Humiliation was seeping into her bones, settling there like a disease that no healer could cure. Things had just returned to normal, (well, as normal as they could get now that she could think of little else than Sebastian’s body), and now they were having a repeat performance. Whatever god was orchestrating this rigamarole had a cruel spirit indeed. 

“I-I know,” Sebastian stammered. Ever the charming Slytherin, he recovered himself quickly and added, “Hey, we’re even now. You saw me and I saw–nothing!” He turned course mid-sentence and threw his hands up in a defensive pose when she glared at him. He really never knew when the right and wrong times to make a joke were.

“Just…good night!” She all but snapped, brushing past him and up the rest of the stairs, not bothering to look back at him as she jogged towards the bathroom door. The prefect standing sentry outside waved her in and she bolted for the women’s baths. 

How fucking humiliating could life get? Like a silly, love-drunk girl, she had developed some very confusing and sinful feelings for Sebastian, all because she’d seen him a little bit wet. Granted, his tanned skin had been shining under the droplets of water, and his back was taut and muscular from years of bludger-beating, and his legs were long enough to make her lose her way, and gods, what on earth had that thin, grey towel been concealing…

As she sunk into the steaming bath and mounds of bubbles, she let out one final wail of lament for her dignity before plunging underwater.

Her dreams that night reached a new summit of horror.

First, she was lost in a maze of hallways. They weren’t Hogwarts hallways, but she knew she was running late for an exam all the same. Every corner she rounded and door she opened displayed empty rooms and brick walls. Time ticked past at an extraordinary pace, the exam start time creeping steadily nearer but her destination refused to show itself, despite her panicked sprinting. When she finally found herself in something resembling a classroom, fifty students crouched over individual desks and scribbling away, she felt a momentary wash of relief. 

Then, a hand was wrapping itself around her leg and she was screaming. The hand yanked her backwards out of the classroom and down the hall, the room fading from her view as her unseen kidnapper pulled her at an impossible pace. A bright flash of light and she felt the hand unwrap from her calf and something retreat into the darkness. Sebastian was suddenly in front of her, taking her head in his hands and murmuring something she couldn’t make out. He seemed to be concerned about her, but all she could feel was his warmth and safety and she felt herself tumbling into his lake-hazel eyes. 

They were kissing before she could figure out why the exam didn’t seem to matter anymore. “Oh, God, sweetheart,” Sebastian was rasping as he pulled his lips away, face hazy with want. She whined and tugged him back to her, and she found herself in a location she couldn’t quite make out in the semi-darkness, but her back was pressed against something more comfortable than the marble hallway floors that Sebastian had rescued her from. 

He was slotting a leg in between hers and kneading it gently around. Her body felt vaguely light and floaty, a new breed of arousal building as she bumped herself against his leg and pulled his bottom lip into her mouth. 

“Seb,” she gasped, but he was already gone, pulling her dressing gown–goddamn that dressing gown, haunting her even here!–down and ripping it off entirely so she was exposed to him. Dream Sebastian had longer hair. It curled slightly around his ears and brushed the bottom of his neck, tickling her when he leaned back down to kiss her neck with hot, wet lips. 

She would later admit that she quite preferred the power she held in the realm of her subconscious to the power she held in reality; perhaps wielding ancient magic was a benefit for some, but willing Sebastian’s clothes away and feeling the all-too-real heat of him pressed against her naked body gave her more of a thrill than she ever could have summoned.

In an instant, she found him sunk between her legs, hot mouth ghosting over her weeping heat and then delving into it. She shrieked, letting it dissolve into a moan as his tongue swirled around her clit and he sucked it into a gentle kiss. Her hands dug into his sandy brown hair, using the extra length to her advantage and tugging. Why was it so long?

"You taste so divine, I knew it," he was groaning. "Better than any fucking tart."

Time was strange. They stayed wrapped in each other for a year and a minute simultaneously, and then he was fucking her with a savage gentleness that made her weep. His slow, hard movements were almost cruel in their sweetness. And she even managed to notice, through her daze, that his cock was just as he'd promised, its thickness splitting her open and making her eyes roll back in her head.

He was panting, his words once more indiscernible but seemingly lust-fueled. The sensation of his cock pushing into her made her body, small under his powerful frame, shake. Using his defined abdomen, he pushed himself up as he continued fucking her and cried, “Shit, baby, come for me! I’m all fucking yours.”

Her orgasm gained ground and was cresting high and wide when he added, “Let me see you cry when you come real pretty, please? Hm? Come on, I’ll be a good little birdie, I swear.”

Her eyes snapped open and she sucked in a huge breath of air, chest heaving, her sheets wrapped around and clinging to her sweat-ridden body. She was positively drenched, both outwardly and inwardly, and the rising frustration when she realized that she was very much alone in her bed and that the dream was slipping through the cracks in her memory like water made her roll over, stuff her face into her pillow, and scream.

Ominis thought about what a wonderful friend he was for putting up with that disorganized slob Sallow as he dug through the disorganized slob’s school bag for a new bottle of ink. When he had run out in the middle of his homework, Sebastian had absently waved him upstairs to the bedroom and told him to grab a fresh bottle from his bag, his gaze never leaving the teetering tower of shortbread he was building. 

“What a prince,” Ominis grunted to himself, feeling around for anything glass and instead receiving several paper cuts from the loose pages Sebastian kept stuffed away, in case he was ever caught needing garbage. His slim hand closed around a small bottle and he smiled in triumph, eager to be done with his spelunking expedition. As he yanked the bottle through the layers of debris in the bag, the force required caused him to stumble backwards, just a step, and into Sebastian’s nightstand. Something thudded onto the floor and Ominis bent to sweep his hands over the floor and find it.

A book, hardcover, without rips or tears to indicate its age. Ominis picked it up and felt around the cover, curious to see what nighttime reading his friend was doing, and curious to see if it happened to be his first voluntary non-Quidditch-related read. The embossed letters on the front were so shiny and slick that he found it hard to make out the title using just his touch, so Ominis pulled his wand from his pocket and held it over the book, words coming into clearer focus in his mind’s eye. 

Legilimency and the Dreamer, the book proclaimed. A subtitle at the bottom of the cover read: “Infiltrating the sleeping mind, for the beginner.”

Ominis snorted and threw the book back on Sebastian’s night stand, wondering whom it actually belonged to. Definitely not Sallow's.

pt. 3

masterlist

[midnightarcheress]

another casino thingy with john price, bc why not?

cw: nsfw. masturbation, fingering, implicit exhibitionist price?, f!reader. idk shit about poker. 2 | more casino!141

you go to the casino again. not to gamble though.

at first, you were reluctant on showing up. it was nice of John to give you money for your services that night, and you couldn't deny the instant attraction lingering on your brain, but you didn't want to feel like a token, a four-leaved clover he picked out of the grass. also, you were convinced that your luck was a one-time thing, so why bother trying again? he surely found another charm to put in his pocket by now. 

however, those thoughts vanished from your mind when you heard a sharp knock on your door. 

you look through the peephole and immediately recognize the person standing in your hallway – mohawk guy. how did he...? your first instinct is to ignore him, but curiosity wins the fight against logic and you open the door.

"hello, bonnie." he smiles, "Price's waiting for ye," he blurts out before you can even ask anything. he's waiting?

for a minute, you don't think. your body moves on auto-pilot, scouring your closet for a decent outfit and smoothing down your hair to look at least presentable, as a stranger – Johnny, you learned – paces in your living room. 

the next thing you know, you're in the passenger seat of his car, one hand resting on your leg and thumb edging the hem of your skirt, driving downtown. you couldn't help but shudder at the tingling sensation of his fingers on your skin, and he just snorts at your reaction, amused. are they all this touchy?

thankfully for you, Johnny is a talker, so you don't have to do much work to pass the time. he tells you that John is actually the owner of the casino and that every friday night he hosts a poker game with some of his friends. that he and the boys – Simon and Kyle – help Price with the management and with making sure no one creates trouble, and that John hasn't stopped talking about you.

your eyes widen after his last words, earning a chuckle out of the scot and nearly making you forget the question that first popped into your head when you saw him at your door – how in the hell did he know where i live? but at this point, you're not sure you care. 

the light squeeze on your thigh alerts you that you've arrived, hopping out of the car and walking inside. the place is as packed as ever, but he leads you directly to the back, the same door as before. 

"there she is." John grins, already tapping his lap for you to sit, "now we can start." this time, you don't hesitate, happily obliging to his request even when a part of you cringes at your eagerness. you accept the glass of bourbon, neat, that Kyle hands you, and despite being too strong for your liking, you don't bother. probably tastes like John.

the first few rounds were tame, with low bets, but soon enough you see the flying 5000 chips landing on the table and hear the laughs getting louder, as he traces circles on your hip. you don't know if it's the alcohol coursing in your veins, the softness of his touch, or his hot breath on your ear, but warmth starts pooling in your stomach and your legs clump together to ease the tension.

John notices your squirms and devilishly smirks, enjoying your desperate attempts to forgo the desire building in you. "here, kiss it for good luck, Ace." Ace? his left-hand holds a chip up, as the right one sneaks between your thighs and pry them apart again, making you gasp. 

you timidly lean forward to press a quick kiss on the chip and instantly feel the heat creeping up your cheeks when his hand reaches your underwear. "you're so wet, Ace," he whispers, pulling your damp pants to the side. god, what is he... oh.

you try your best to be calm, not let the sensation of his fingers grazing your folds cloud your mind, but it's too much. your head tips back onto his shoulder, and any word that threatens to come out of your mouth and stop him gets caught in your throat. there's people around. everyone can see how much of a mess you are. and they... don't care?

his thumb gently rubs your clit as his middle finger toy with your entrance in an agonizingly slow manner, soft sighs escaping your mouth and eyes embarrassingly glossy focusing on the table. the game is still going, there's at least eight other men in this room, counting the players and the boys, fuck i'm– you bite back moans, gripping his forearm to keep him in place and to stop yourself from writhing in his lap. 

"easy, love," he murmurs, finally pumping his digit inside you, "such a greedy cunt." his tone is low, syrupy, dripping like honey over you and nearly making you cum at the sound of his voice. you nuzzle your face on his neck, muffling your whimpers and drowning in the scent of his cologne. "what's keepin' me from throwin' you on top of this table and takin' you right now, hm?"

"John–" you breathe out, coil on your belly tightening when he inserts another finger, hitting the spongy spot you were never quite able to reach, making you mewl with pleasure. his beard brushes on your neck and his warm lips trace your jaw, leaving an underlying burning on your skin that drops straight to your core. 

through half-lidded eyes you see the dealer finishing distributing the cards and the subtle twitch in John's mouth when he glances at his hand. your mind is too far gone by the point when they place the bets, too lost in the feeling of his frantic thrusts, velvety walls instinctively clenching around him to enhance the bliss.

the knot inside of you snaps and you cry out, limbs trembling in his hold and pure electricity travelling under your surface; it's intense, ripples through your core, heavenly overstimulating every corner of your body and sending your mind to outer space. 

you float back to earth and taste the metallic flavor in your mouth, bottom lip sore from biting too hard to prevent your screams. John nudges you back to reality with a kiss on your temple, "such a good girl, love." he flaunts his cards in front of your eyes, and after a few attempts to refocus your vision, he gloats, wide smile and lustful eyes directed only at you, "just won me thirty grand, Ace."

i'd love to write more of this casino universe but i'm very much lacking in the ideas department lol

[crysbeatsmaker]

(Digital Creep)