#Flooded apartment complex

[jasminewilson143]

Torrential Rain in Bengaluru Causes Havoc: Viral Video Shows Flooded Apartment Complex, Lives Lost

Torrential Rain in Bengaluru Causes Havoc: Viral Video Shows Flooded Apartment Complex, Lives Lost In the early hours of Monday, Bengaluru was once again battered by heavy rain, which led to severe flooding in various parts of the city. The torrential downpour, which lasted through the night, wreaked havoc, causing significant waterlogging, disrupting daily life, and even resulting in tragic…

[claymoresofinfamy23]

Not my ass getting anxious about the tropical storm. I live pretty far inland so flooding isn’t that much of a worry for me, I’m more worried about tornadoes. tropical storm tornadoes aren’t usually that strong, It’s gonna be fine, but I’m worrying about it because ✨anxiety.✨

@mini-rollins

@alyyaanna

@queenofthetable

@thesamoanqueen

@femdisa

@codystonguepiercing

@southerngirl41

@judgementdaysunshine

@mamirhodessxox

@wwechristina87

@wwefabfan

[cheeses-degree]

I LOVE COLLEGE. I want to go home though 😭

[bloodbending]

coping with the tropical storm by writing fanfiction for the first time in several years.

[adventures-with-aspen]

Embracing the rain and muddy dog faces

[big-edies-sun-hat]

I think this is for a couple of reasons:

* Nationally, we are still embarrassed about Iraq and Afghanistan in ways we hate to discuss, but more importantly

* Employers don’t want another paid holiday in the fall

we dont even get 9/11 off of work. like i guess you were never THAT sad about it

[mothmans-legs]

Ohmy fuck I feel so bad I walked past this construction guy on the way home and he actually seemed rlly nice and he said hi very cheerfully but since all the construction nearby my house started (the whole area is basically a swamp, there were like little ponds and streams with frogs in 'm and everything) that whole areas been bulldozed I didn't process the vibes fast enough and I had the Wrong expression on my face (annoyed) and I feel rlly bad, like he doesn't have a choice in this matter really like we're all stuck in an eternal loop of capitalist hell and the jobs pay well enough here that people do them a lot and ugh I really hope that didn't make him feel bad if I see him again I think I'll apologize augh

[heart-bones]

someone please come over and do my laundry for me - I don't know how I always have So Much after only wearing the same outfits every week ????

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 || 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ when you declined to play Ddakji with a man, the least you expected was him stalking you, even less expected when you oblige him to lick your bleeding wound after seeing him kill a man and escaping him.

warnings_ MDNI, age gap (not specified but legal) reader is a foreigner (implied American but not specified again), stalking, NO KIDNAPPING NOR ABUSE HERE, blood play, dom!salesman, switch!reader, toxic till the end, sexual innuendos, manipulation, questionable morals, do not romanticize this irl pls, NO PROOFREAD YET

notes_ I’ll just drop this fic and leave it there bc why am i feeling so horny for an Asian sociopath? me la estoy pasando bien raro (i like it)

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 this man

✰ Index (+ fics here)

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Everything was irritating. The class you had was canceled last minute, the crowd at the train station was loud, the tapping of a kid in a window was constant, and the message you received asking for your campus ID to keep using your student account was sudden and required immediate action. Your cramps and migraine only aggravate everything.

You were steps away from the stairs when you stopped to take the damn picture of your ID and be done with that. But of course, you couldn’t find your wallet at first glance, so you moved aside to take a better look.

You worried about kneeling and ruining your black coat with the dirtiness of the floor at the station, but at the same time, you thought it was just stupid.

A trail of curses flooded your mind as you tried to find your wallet, making you oblivious to a random man walking in your direction.

“Excuse me, Miss… Would you like to play Ddakji?” Said the man asked you in Korean. You were occupied with a hand inside your thrifted designer tote, and your mind unconsciously prepared an answer in English.

“Sorry, I don’t have time” When you realized your mid-answer you sighed, just as you fished out your wallet. “For every win of yours, you’ll earn a great sum of cash”

Once you stood up, you met the face of the man who now answered in English as well. Very tall, handsome, innocent smile and in a suit; a businessman. You knew it was wrong to judge but there was something behind the smile he offered you that resulted eerie.

Like behind that seemingly blameless expression, the man was hiding his true intentions.

Might’ve been your eyes or hair that caught his attention. You weren’t native, and he didn’t want to think he could take advantage, yet his feet dragged him to you.

Placing your bag over your shoulder again, you grab your glasses and phone with tangled EarPods. You give the man one last look. You are not having a good day and you don’t have time to deal with this.

“What do you say?” He asks feigning kindness, eyeing you subtly without your knowledge.

“No, thank you. I don’t even know how the game works”

“You look like you are a natural. You might be surprised if you try. You just have to pick a color and try to flip the opposing tile”

The rich always trying to fuck the one who isn’t. This was just a new way. The urge to roll your eyes grew but you remained still.

“Look, I’m sorry. But I bet you do this just to see how desperate people who need money can go. I won’t be one of them. If not, sorry for misjudging you” you harshly say before putting on your EarPods and leaving the station. You leave him perplexed, huffing in disbelief and igniting a fire of curiosity inside him.

And you completely forgot about the Ddakji man as you made it to your little apartment, not knowing he would turn upside down your upcoming days.

…

Warm days in winter were exciting for you. They boosted your energy and made you want to be out all day.

You had the luck of living in a beautiful complex because it was once from a friend of your mother who married years ago and now had her single apartment for rent.

It had long warm hallways that hosted at least eight apartments by floor. With orange and pink subtle lights and uneven edges. It was truly a sight despite how little the apartments were. One bedroom with closet and bathroom, a tiny studio, small kitchen, enough space for a dining table, another small bathroom, and a half sized living room with balcony.

Your loneliness was well-balanced because you loved your home. But even on warm days, you wanted to be out.

Your red shoes contrasted with everything you stepped on. You carried a bag with a bunch of books and another one with thrifted clothes you bought.

At the park you always walked by, there was a fair amount of people as usual. You don’t care much to look around but someone makes you stare longer than needed.

The same man who asked if you wanted to play a game at the station was in the park. Another impeccable suit dressing him, looking attractive like the first time and already looking at you.

He offered you a smile, to which you didn’t reply. You looked at the ground, feeling like you had frozen.

What a weirdo, he offered bread and a random paper to a lonely man.

Simultaneously, you wondered if the man found you attractive enough to stare like that. With your mind that often became nihilistic, you thought you were delusional and that you should just keep walking.

His eyes remained glued to you. As his prey was thinking about what was better to choose, he contemplated you walking again.

The salesman realized he had made you nervous and that made him feel eager to end his job and follow you again.

Once he realized you lived in a good neighborhood, where his elegant suits matched the vibe, he got even more excited to see you again.

So now, was like it was meant to be.

How sweet, sophisticated, and innocent you looked.

Something shifted, as you passed by his side, only having a view of his back, you assumed he was worked out, his hair looked perfectly fine, and his big hands offered two things. Perhaps you had misjudged him and he really wanted to help. But your inner voice said otherwise. In a sudden change of events, you decided to look back once you were almost at the exit of the park.

With his deep gaze still set on you, your lips formed a smile.

And he took it as a first win in the games that had begun between you two.

…

Once again, you find yourself in the library. Inside one of the biggest malls you’ve been to, you are leaning at a counter, asking if they have an English translation of a book you were interested in.

Your Korean isn’t good enough yet, so as the nice librarian disappeared to find your request, you are working on your next reply, with a translation app.

“Do you recommend me this one?” your back arched as a startled reflex. You quickly stand straight and turn around to see the person you grew anxious to avoid and see again. The salesman is there, looking down at you with a perfectly orchestrated smile.

“Huh?” you ask disconcertingly, he shows you a book, his face looking like he had found a wounded little bird. But it was only you, startled and nervous by his strong presence.

The book is The Divine Comedy. Dante Alighieri.

“Certainly is a good one. A lot of heavenly justice…” you say trying to sound confident, looking at the cover of the book. Displaying the layers that separated heaven from hell. “Do you believe in heavenly justice?”

“I don’t know. We can’t call someone a sinner without a proper trial beforehand” he chuckles, which makes you frown for a second. He truly was unpredictable and you didn’t like that. “Ah, sinners. Always misjudged and harshly punished for being the ones who have the guts to make things…” his deep voice and tone made you wonder if he was self-perceived as a sinner, which made you feel worse.

“You sound like an ethnocentric…”

“I don’t think I’m far into that type of thinking, y/n” Your eyes almost popped out, leaving your hands in an anxious tremble.

“How is it possible that you know my name?” Before he can even answer, you add more. “You are stalking me”

His demonic smile makes your heart stop. The smile you once thought had innocence can’t blind you anymore. He isn’t innocent. He literally confirmed he was stalking you and you didn’t know how to feel.

“I don’t like the idea that conveys the word ‘stalking’. We can call it predestination…” you huff in disbelief. “What do you want with me?”

“I would like to get to know the woman who rejected my Ddakji offer. And ask for one more game” Your lips form a line, and quietly you are hating how much you are enjoying the conversation.

“Hmm, I’m bad at most games, so I’m afraid I will reject you once again” You turned back again to see if the librarian was coming when you felt him stepping closer, which made you feel nervous again.

“I might believe you. I always win…” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers through your spine and creating a lot of tension.

Your psycho mode almost made you lean forward again, daring to see if some friction was possible. But you didn’t, trying to be prudent and acting sane.

“I would’ve wanted a normal first interaction and this time you should’ve asked me out on a date. That’s how it works where I come from but… here, I guess not” he stepped aside as the librarian handed you the book. And as you thanked her and turned to leave and pay somewhere else, he took out a card and handed it to you.

“I’m sure we can work on some sort of arrangement. Here, you may call me…” slightly irritated that he didn’t say much about your inquiry, you snatched the card and walked away.

The cathartic feelings of wanting to keep talking to him and running away from him at the same time resulted in excruciating. It didn’t make sense, the point of him was to nowhere. Being clueless about his age, name, and everything made it feel wrong. Yet, curiosity was starting to burn you.

…

Like a miracle, the heavens moved and sprinkled some luck above you. You found some friends on campus, they spoke English like you and were foreigners as well. One of them was a friend of the owner of a club and invited you for the night.

The invitation made you forgetful about your salesman, whom you hadn’t talked with since the encounter in the library. The card he handed the last time rested between the book you bought the same day, making you unable to read more because it reminded you of the encounter with him.

It resulted unknown to you when was that your life had turned over the edge of becoming twisted. Your feelings for a mysterious man who seemed more accusable than appeared remained undecided.

He made you feel like a wildfire and a caged bird at the same time. Delicate but menacing.

He seemed older than you, professional in a field, mature and imposing. Which you didn’t mind when he appeared to ask you about The Divine Comedy. Either way, you were playing but couldn’t risk anything. Especially in a country where you didn’t know how everything worked.

After getting out of the shower, your thoughts on the salesman are completely faded. You slip on a sequin dress and paint your eyes with glitter and a smokey style.

Thereafter, at the club you let yourself go and have a wild night. Between classes, essays, and the issue with the salesman, you needed a time out.

Everything feels nice when you take a bathroom break and you smile at your reflection. You know you are close to being drunk, it’s the most enjoyable stage of ingesting alcohol.

“Hey, let’s go dancing, I couldn’t find you before!” Yells one of your friends after you reunite with the little group. You nod excitedly, taking her hand and letting her take you to the dance floor.

The music reminded you of that time when spinnin records were a trend and everyone played their mixes at parties back at home. As you move along the track, you don’t look at anything in particular, you just feel interesting and sexy. But your eyes end up giving a quick glance at one table, almost making you stop your euphoric moment.

You swore you saw your salesman.

Looking around you don’t see him, so you return dancing but the odd sensation in your chest doesn’t let you rest.

“What happens?” Asks another friend, looking worried.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone. Never mind…” you shake your head, smiling and convincing them that everything is fine.

But once they got more drunk, you walked out, despite curiosity, you wanted to confirm if the tall gorgeous man was near you.

Rarely you bring up to question your life decisions. Not because you thought you were perfect, but because you easily accepted your errors.

And it wasn’t hard to accept you completely messed up by getting out of the club. Where the night was colder, and some steps away from the main entrance, the crowd was loud. A man could be heard pleading and sobbing, which made you fearful but eager to see what was happening.

You peeked at the alley beside the club. A wave of shock flooded you once you noticed another man was punching the one who yelped and sobbed for forgiveness.

Your salesman was the attacker.

“Please! I’ll pay everything back!” Your mind raced back to the moment you spotted your salesman inside the club minutes ago.

His dark grey suit didn’t fit the aura of the place, but he seemed to be talking with the same man he was now punching.

It was obvious at that point that he wasn’t a good man. He made fun of making people play his seemingly innocent games to later laugh in the face whenever they lost. He was never flirting with you, the odd feeling of uncertainty you felt with him was right.

You had to go. You had to burn the card he gave you, avoid the station where you met him, and forget about his face.

There’s panic in your system, your heart beats fast and nausea starts coming up your throat.

You want to get immediately drunk and forget everything you saw with a hangover. You need it.

But you don’t get very far. Midway through the stairs that conduct to the club, a hand holds your forearm with extreme pressure and drags you inside a private room.

Your salesman finally found you.

…

“You just killed a man!” you almost yelled as soon as he pushed you inside and closed the door.

The room was very fancy like the club. It had a big desk near a window, flower-shaped hanging lamps, black sparkly floor tiles, and a sage velvet couch.

Your salesman slides his fingers through his hair and looks at the ceiling before turning to you. One hand still carrying the murder weapon.

“He deserved it” was all he answered and you take a breath. In need of an alibi, you opened a random fridge in the room and grabbed a beer. Your salesman watched how you sipped at the can. He knew you were feeling a mix of curiosity and disgust for him.

Once you drink at least half of the content, you sigh, brushing aside some hair and walking towards him.

“Who are you?” you ask pleadingly, desperate to know how far you’ve gone for him.

“Eventually you’ll know” he sounds cold, calculating, and menacing. “You didn’t call…”

He was taking advantage of your vulnerability.

“I met you a week ago, I don’t even know your name” you admit with shame and dissatisfaction.

For the first time, he genuinely touches you. Hands straight to your waist, making gasp in surprise.

“You’re smart and will eventually understand. You’re my good girl”

His good girl….

What was left to do when you have a sociopath holding your waist with the same hands he had used to kill a man? Play along, even if you are terrified.

What had been your horrified face, slowly ends up in a smirk, tilting your head, squandering cheekiness. “I’m not your good girl, sir”

He slowly leaned back, taking a seat on the sage couch, one of his hands going straight to rest behind his head, against the wall. He twirled the knife against his knee, making you uneasy, but confident about your upcoming words.

“If I walk away, you can’t do much with me, I’m a foreigner. Sure the authorities would dismantle whatever dirty job you’re into and that’s a big no-no” you explain, and feeling a little too bold, you step between his legs.

“Your lack of ignorance amazes me” he admits, offering you a cocky smile. “It makes me even more infatuated”

Your left knee pushed aside his hand twirling the knife. He remained still but sure seemed slightly surprised when you ended up straddling him. With your hands glued to his dark tie, putting it into place.

“Hmm, well, be careful. I am no threat, I barely have valuable skills to get rid of you but I know I could be a problem. So I guess I won, sir…” you allow yourself to smile, following a path with your fingers, from his tie to his cheeks and nose, softly tracing his pale skin.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart” You knew he was trying to be in control, and the best part was that you weren’t fighting for it.

“There’s a lot I might not understand. I’m just a girl who happened to be in this city for a temporary academic project” When your lips brushed his, you couldn’t deny he was so fucking hot, you wished he wasn’t so weird and probably part of a mafia or cult or whatever. “You are the grown-ass man who got obsessed with me”

“I just find you an odd but interesting player, sweet girl” he tried to use his innocent smile but it was useless when you grabbed him by the shoulders and finally dared to kiss him.

He controlled it the moment he touched you again. His hands had a possessive sting and firmly grabbed you by the hips. One of them still holding the knife.

Feeling bold, with adrenaline flowing freely, you softly bit his lower lip. You knew it was over when he almost let out a moan, and after checking he had his eyes closed, you literally jumped away from him.

Without looking back, you started running. Your clumsy steps turn frantic, knowing damn well he would start following you soon. As you literally start pushing people to get out, your heart beats faster than ever and you have a growing anxiety, begging you to stop and breathe.

Once the cold air hit you, as you took a cab and saw no sign of your salesman, confusion struck you and you saw the blood in your chest and arm.

“Are you alright, girl?” The driver asked, also watching your bleeding state.

“Yes, just an accident, I’m okay” he nods unsure, but starts driving after you give him your destination.

His knife must’ve sliced your skin when you stood up from his lap. When he moved one of his big hands to caress your chin.

It wasn’t that you were scared of him, of your salesman. Although you should be; but you weren’t. Could it be that the worst part was that you were attracted to him? Even after watching him kill a man? You were screwed.

You realize the reason why you always ran away from him is because you don’t know how to face his unpredictable demeanor.

At that point, you didn’t know what he wanted. Only that he was obsessed with you. But his intentions remained a mystery unsolved.

Before getting out of the cab, you pay and send your friends a message that you left early because you got a headache after vomiting. This didn’t happen, but would’ve been better to experience it as a young woman in her twenties.

…

When you opened the door, he was already inside. The worst part is that you weren’t surprised anymore. You only stood at the feet of the door, looking at him with uneasiness.

“You got me worried,” he says, stopping his movements around your table. “You left some blood stains and I thought it was serious”

“You accidentally showed me your true nature. A little bit of blood shouldn’t scare you” his shirt indeed had some bloody spots, his blazer was gone, and the sleeves of his messy shirt were rolled up. You hated that your first thought was that he looked very hot.

He moved and took a seat at one of your tables. He sighed and you realized that perhaps he was also screwed up. For letting himself go too far for you.

“I don’t regret any encounter we’ve had,” he says. “Me neither”

He can’t stop staring at your bloodstained dress and you notice.

Fuck everything, you thought.

I’m attracted to him, he’s attracted to me, What’s the worst thing that could happen? (I don’t want to know).

“Silly boy, look what you did to me,” you say looking at the soaked fabric.

Something possessed you at that moment. Your hands went straight to lift your dress. His eyes trailed your sparkly underwear, your lower belly, and your ribs that rose and fell as you breathed.

Your hands twirl behind your back to unhook your bra; also soaked, throwing it to the floor.

Your salesman is quiet, his innocent smile about to fall because you know you have taken him by surprise.

Likely you’ll get a scar. The would-be slightly deep, an uneven line that passed from your neck to your shoulder.

You step forward, confidently eyeing him.

“Clean it” he tried to stand up, probably to grab a med kit but you stopped him with your heel. “With your mouth. Lick it clean…”

He gulped.

His manspread became the only thing you could care about. How he eyed you with lust and possession for some seconds, and then to lean forwards.

Once again his hands landed on the curves of your hips and he made you step up, leaving him inches away from you.

Your sudden surgation grew and his hot tongue finally made contact with your skin.

You savored the feeling of his tongue, knowing he wouldn’t clean anything but the semi-dry blood over your breast. He was only making a mess.

Then, he lifts his head and catches your lips in a sullied kiss. The way he held you, made you understand how he always wanted control. Above anything.

“I will be gone within time. You can ruin me while it lasts…” you blurt out, panting for air.

“I’ll ruin you. But I don’t want to rip you apart. That’s pointless…” he admits in your lips, blood near your chin that he wipes out. “You’re the most fun I’ve had in years. My little toy…”

“Alright, I’ll be your toy” he nods, kissing you again. “Know that my lips are sealed when it comes to you”

“And you won’t have to worry about anything again…” you moan on his lips when he pulls your hair and finally makes you lay on your once new carpet, now displaying some splotches of blood.

“I don’t need your money”

“Don’t you want to make your mother proud and relieved from student debts? From rent?” You can’t think straight. “It’s not correct…”

“None of this is, y/n. Now shut your mouth and spread your legs, toy”

It’s wrong, immoral, a complete madness. You know everything will change once the night dies and the morning comes. But as much as you tried to communicate to him that you weren’t scared, you knew it was over, you’ve gotten too deep into his shit.

“Farewell to my purity” you whisper in his ear and it’s enough to make his eyes turn darker, full of lust.

Everything that consoles purity would be gone from you. And the fact that you were ready scared you. But once his hands started meeting places across your body, you welcomed the sin.

As well as your mind seized thinking. Not caring about the consequences.

_______________________________________________

If you ask for more I will provide

Quién me manda a escribir estas mamadas? I’m just ovulating.

[vamptastic]

morrocan architecture so cool so sexy so mathematically grounded so good for tropical environment <3

[angelthanatology]

well. there's nothing like starting the day screwing up something immediately after waking up

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Succubus Ellie x fem! reader

Content / warnings: 18+ content, succubus Ellie, virgin (kind of a loser) reader, Ellie is super shady and you're horny & oblivious, corruption kink, oral sex (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), spit play, strength kink, Ellie gets increasingly more aggressive/stronger, biting (and some blood), nipple stimulation, mentions of stretch marks on reader's thighs bc I personally love them

Word count: 2.3k

You're a lesbian in a small religious town, and all you've got going for you is reading and your own apartment. It's not your fault that you get desperate enough to check out a book on demonology, summon a literal succubus, and sign a contract stating that you belong to said succubus.

Libraries have about every book you can think of.

Some may not have the most interesting options, but upon searching enough, you can truly find anything. You love reading. You love scanning over the ink-littered pages for hours until your brain is fried from trying to make sense of a complex plot. You get off on reading Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein because pretty words just do it for you. There is something about losing yourself in Edgar Allen Poe’s poetry that makes your blood hot. You know it’s fucked up, and yet you have no shame searching throughout your small town’s local library for something new.

Perhaps it’s just growing up in an isolated town that makes you find entertainment in the concept of everything all at once–literature truly has it all. There is no limit to what an author can write onto an unlimited amount of pages. You’d rather stay underneath your blanket with a flashlight at four in the morning than actually socialize (unless it’s on reddit, like a freak). Sometimes, you do get lonely though. Books don’t satiate your physical needs, and no amount of masturbation with a vibrator from an adult store a few towns over will truly make you cum like a woman could. You know that, but do nothing about it. You downloaded a dating app only to delete it when you had to set your profile picture. 

That is exactly why you find yourself in the occult section of your lovely local library scanning through books to find one about demons. Unsurprisingly for a library in the middle of a religious town, there are little to no books on the subject. Just one. Demons and Demonology.

You’re lonely, remember? Summoning a succubus is a low blow even for you, though. You don’t meet the librarian’s judgemental gaze, and you rush home to your humble apartment to hopefully read all about demonology, specifically the sexual kind. Little do you know what is in store for you.

Succubus are romanticized in the media; pretty women who seduce humans and sexually drain them. That sounds appealing to many who can imagine someone sleeping with them so willingly, something that you fall victim to simply because you’re lonely. That is exactly what demons prey on, though. People who are lonely and vulnerable. But did you ever really think that a malicious soul could give you one night of pleasure and stop there? 

You light the candles in just a cute, lacy tank top and a pair of white cotton panties. Your feet are cold, so you do have these little patterned, fuzzy socks on. You look desperate, but why would you need pants? A succubus wants to fuck you. You definitely don’t want to be wearing any pants for that. 

And before your very eyes is a woman you will grow to wish you never summoned. 

Dark, auburn hair with sneaky strays that you wish to tuck behind her ears as she fucks you. You’d like to tug on that hair or grasp at it with her lips tending to your clit. Your thoughts are flooded and you can’t even categorize each filthy need upon each beautiful feature your eyes are granted. Your lust is beyond repair.

Your brain should realize that all of the feelings you cling to involving this girl are persuaded by simple vulnerability and need. Her appearance isn’t humanlike. She is a demon, and she has resources to lure you in. You should be realizing how unsafe you are with this girl, not hoping that she will fill you until sunrise. You don’t realize, though. Instead, you find yourself looking up at her as she stands in front of where you sit on your bed. 

“You summoned me, huh?” Her eyes are unbelievably green, vivid in different shades that make you want to squint. 

“Well, yes.”

Such a simple answer, but she appreciates that you are getting straight to the point. Some girls waste her time with nerves and stuttering, but you know exactly what you want. She almost feels sorry for you.

The succubus seems to know where your drawer with your journal is already. She rips out a page and grabs one of your black ink pens, throwing it precisely onto your lap. 

“Sign yourself to me.” 

You look up at her quickly, brows slightly furrowed in confusion. The demon sighs, impatient.

“Don’t you know how this works? You have to write it out. You write out your full name, mine, and that you give yourself to me. Otherwise, I can’t touch you.”

In all honesty, Ellie is a little nervous that you’ll back out. You seem like a smart girl. Maybe you’ll realize that signing yourself up for “giving yourself” to a demon is simply foolish. She finds herself feeling something akin to disappointment when you scribble down your name. 

“My name’s Ellie. Write it down somewhere, it doesn’t matter where. All I need is our names, and something that states that you’re mine.” 

Ellie. You write that down.

Once you dot that final period, Ellie is done with the whole patient act. She grabs your sock-clad ankles with rough hands, pulling you to lay down with your ass just off the bed. You squeal in surprise, but she pays no mind. She hasn’t had a virgin in a long damn time, and she is starving to make you cum for her. 

Her hips part your legs and she leans down to press hungry, sloppy kisses onto your pulse. You feel like you’re about to explode with need, pressure within you building, but with no stimulation. Nobody has ever touched you like this. You’ve never felt a person’s tongue swirl over your collarbone, or you’d realize that this feeling of pure need isn’t in the amount that a human should even be able to feel.

“I need you.” You plead with her, fingers pulling at strands of short hair. This seems to encourage her in ways you didn’t expect, because Ellie is already kneading your tits through fabric, fingertips rolling stiffening nipples with ease.

“Tell me what you want most.” She buries her face into your sternum, hands making haste of pulling the flimsy tank top over your body. 

“I want you to touch me.” 

Ellie grabs your face, hands unfortunately leaving your tits. “Nuh-uh, none of that vague bullshit. Tell me exactly where. How. I need to know.” There is an aggression in her voice that makes your heart drop and your clit throb.

You trail your hand down to the soft fabric of your panties and Ellie doesn’t care that you skimp out on actually telling her. She only peels them down to your ankles and tosses them carelessly. Before you can even beg for her touch, she grabs your hips and throws you into the middle of your bed in a flash. Your head is spinning from the action, the logical part trying to make sense of how she could pick you up and toss you so quickly like you weigh nothing to her.

Before you can register her next actions, her tongue is tracing foreign patterns onto your thighs and her hands are forcing your legs wide. 

“Say you want me to fuck you and ruin you.” Sharp teeth sink into your left inner thigh, branding you. 

“I want you to fuck me, please.” Your voice is breathless, your hips are shifting with impatience and need.

“And you want me to ruin you? Ruin this pussy for anyone but me?”

You let out a whorish whine at her words, a sound you want to be embarrassed about, but your brain can’t grasp the idea of protecting your dignity. 

“So fucking needy, I’m about to have the time of my life taking you apart.” She snorts at the way you try to pull her mouth down onto your sex, but to no avail. She wants you at your most needy so that she can milk every drop of pleasure from your body until you’re a panting, sweaty, and fucked out mess.

It feels like forever since she has been between your thighs, tongue swirling over stretch marks and fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. 

“Please, I can’t take it anymore. I need you to fuck me.” You’re a mess beneath her, desperately trying to lift your hips enough to feel her tongue swipe over your clit. Instead, all you get is her warm breath over your aching pussy. You’ve been begging relentlessly, and you can’t tell if it’s working or not. 

Until you feel her spit drip from the hood of your clit, further down to your perineum. You gasp at the sudden warmth, and your legs squirm within the hold her hands have on them. You’ve been soaked for a while now, but it seems that Ellie thinks that your pussy wasn’t wet enough. 

You can’t even get out another round of begging before you feel her wet tongue slide up between your pussy lips and dig into your clit. You jolt and pull her head down, wanting to feel completely connected. You want her mouth onto you without any separation after so much teasing. 

The more pleasure flows through you that Ellie causes, the stronger her hold on you gets. You don’t seem to think much of it within your horny haze, but her nails grow sharper than your soft skin would like them to be, and her hold is more firm and decreasingly human-like, but the way she just eats you up makes you forget it all. It doesn’t matter now, you already signed yourself off to this. 

She is a succubus. You can’t be surprised when she moans like a goddess when you feel a particular jolt of pleasure in your body or when your free hand grasps your bedsheets for support. It’s a dangerous kind of perfection; even when you don’t physically show that her lips suckling onto your clip makes your vision blurry, she somehow knows and spreads you further.

You’ve never felt like this before. You’ve finger your own pussy and used vibrators in the past, but this is otherworldly. You wonder how you could ever live without this. You know that after you’re all fucked and spent, every bit of your need satiated, that you will never be able to have sex with a regular person. That should scare you enough to beg and cry for her to rip up the contract and leave, but there is a knot in your stomach that needs to snap in half. Ellie scratches every inch inside you, knows where you need her. When you crave her tongue deep inside your pussy, her taste buds are suddenly printed onto your inner walls, curling up into your sweet spot. When her mouth isn’t on your clit, her nose steadily fucks it. As if you need any of that to simply cum, though. Just grinding your pussy against her face in such a shameful manner as you’re doing now could be enough. That isn’t how this works, though. She needs you feeling the best.

You feel her middle finger part your folds and slip into your hole, and the feeling of another’s fingers inside of you besides your own for the first time is an experience that you simply will never be able to forget. She reaches places inside of you that you didn’t know about whilst flicking her tongue over your clit at a steady pace. You soon feel another finger inside you, and you realize how truly deep her digits can reach. How nicely they can stretch you, make you feel all full and warm. 

Her tongue pulls away from your clit, her thumb replacing it. The view above you makes you wonder how you’ve lasted this long. She leaves bites all along your navel while fucking you into a whining mess. 

“Fuck, you’re just so tight for me. Pussy needed to be ruined, didn’t it? You needed this.” She sounds breathless, and you can’t even dwell on it because suddenly her teeth, which are noticeably sharper than before, are sinking into your hip. You cry out, and she soothes you with her tongue as it laps up some blood that trickled out of the bite. 

Her fingers make your pussy squelch as they drill in and out of you and curl deep within your insides. You feel tears form in the corners of your eyes from the pure, unfiltered pleasure she sends through your body. 

“C’mon, baby. I need you to cum. Give it to me.”

When her mouth trails up to suck on one of your nipples, swirling over the soft bud like she did your clit, you cum hard. 

There are no words to describe the way a demon can drain your body. It should be labeled horrific, not in a goreish way or in a truly depraved sense, but instead, in a way that leaves you truly ruined. You’re hers, now. Not that she plans on fucking you again, unless you really leave a good mark on her. The feelings that flow through you and transfer over to her are ones you’ll never be able to replicate again. No amount of one-night stands or kink-finding will lead you back to this orgasm. No book can make you feel hooked again, not after the feeling of her nails digging into your skin. It’s almost sad that your first time will actually fuck you up like this. If Ellie is able to feel any sort of guilt for you, she’ll find herself back in your bed. She can do that now. You signed yourself over to her, whenever she wants you. You’ll never find it in you to hate it, either. You’ll crave her so much that anytime she comes back to take care of you and feed off of your need, you will be begging on your knees for just one more orgasm from her. 

For now, you simply lay limp in your bed, body aching and covered in marks from someone who isn’t even human. The bites on you won’t leave your body, and you’ll be lucky if the hickeys fade. You can only hope that she will visit you again soon and give you what you need.

[birdofmay]

And again, as always: It would be nice if you guys could stop making this about yourselves. Whenever we post about our particular experience, people who normally can speak, but used to struggle with it, or struggle under certain circumstances, add on something to talk about themselves. This eventually leads to people talking about something completely different, and ignoring what the post was about at first. Make your own post. We are constantly spoken over even in online spaces, and that's especially unfair because we struggle to communicate even more than other autistics. Don't derail posts about people who never learned to speak from the very beginning and won't learn it ever. That's unfair.

Sometimes I see people on here who want to be good allies to nonverbal autistics, but at the same time don't understand nonverbal autism at its core.

Most of us, who are nonverbal "from birth", struggle with language, to communicate, and to understand complex concepts. That's why we never learned to speak at all, ever.

But their strategy is to "hand us the mic" and ask "What are some misconceptions about nonverbal autism you'd like to discuss?" and expect us to respond.

"Misconceptions" is an abstract concept. Most of us can't just come up with an answer; my mind, for example, goes completely blank when I read this.

I wanted to talk about allies assuming that our brain works similar for at least 2 weeks, but it's only now that I am able to write something. 2 weeks!

Sure, there are autistics who can't speak due to apraxia, and who don't struggle with language otherwise, apart from the "not being able to speak with their mouth" part. But that's rare.

Even my ability to express myself well is rare. I am not your average nonverbal autistic. I am very skilled compared to the rest of us.

One thing about "never learning to speak" is that most of us really really struggle with language, and with understanding big words and topics. Not everyone, but many of us. That's why most of us aren't on social media.

Whenever I write "educational" posts, my inbox is flooded with follow up questions I just can't answer without help. Because most of the time I don't understand the text. I regularly have to close my inbox because people assume that I can process the text and respond like everyone else can. But having these abilities is an exception within autistics who never learned to speak from the very beginning. It seems normal, but those people just are the loudest. Because they're on social media and love to participate in discussions.

Most of us can't do that.

I'm glad that I made some speaking friends here who made an effort to understand us thoroughly, and they now often repeat what we think and want "but louder". Listen to them, most of us can't advocate for ourselves. They're not speaking over us, they're helping us to communicate without draining our energy.

And for everything else I have some posts linked in my pinned post because I can't just participate in discussions.

[k-hotchoisan]

the scentist

<san x fem!reader>

Your neighbour—Choi San—is such a gentleman on top of being a complete hunk and smelling so fuckin good. Especially so when he offers his hoodie when he sees you being drenched. Well, nothing could come out of such a simple gesture of kindness, right?

Genres/Warnings: perverted & obsessed scentist!San, Olfactophilia (sexual arousal from scent), masturbation on clothing, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, cumming untouched, armlock (light) breeding, pussy drunk San💙

💙 @san-network 💜

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @jeon-ify

A/N: WE BEEN KNEW THAT I’D LEAVE MY FAVOURITE MAN FOR THE LAST!! 😮‍💨 don’t be sad that this event is ending ok,, we got more to cum come 🥰 thank u for giving my fics so much love as always!!

🩷back to staying perverted

Lavender. Sweet pea. Azalea. Gardenia. 

The scents of the florals fill his lab, something he’s so used to already. As the concoction bubbles, he walks over to the other flowers potted along the shelf, pressing the petals against his nose, taking in their smell before he pulls away. He pulls off his goggles, walking over to his desk, staring at the standing whiteboard, filled to the corners with flower names, chemical compounds, and other miscellaneous details. Even though he’s doing fine, he feels that something is missing. Choi San feels stale and stuck. 

The rain is pattering down heavily against the pavement, he stares at the raindrops hitting the leaves of his plants. San often gets compliments on how beautiful his plants are, and how natural he is at gardening. San would don his signature smile and he would thank them for the compliment. Sometimes, his neighbours would come by to ask for gardening advice and San would gladly entertain them. This evening was no different. Another one of his neigbours who was growing greens had wanted to express appreciation by buying San his favorite fertilizers. Stacking them neatly in his cabinet, San then decides to head down to the reception to receive his parcel. 

Fuck. The downpour was so sudden. It totally caught you off guard, and you were drenched before you realised it. You make it to the entrance of your apartment complex, shivering slightly from the air conditioning. You shake off the excess water off your arms, and when you look up, your heartbeat quickens—your apartment complex crush is standing at his letterbox, filtering through his mail while he holds a parcel in his arms. He’s in a grey hoodie, and for some reason, it makes him look big, and it’s driving you insane. Shit, shit, shit. You pray that he doesn’t turn around and see you.

“Hey. Good evening y/n”, San greets cheerily. You force a smile, “Good evening San.”

San has his eyes on you, and you swear he’s eyeing you down—probably judging you for being drenched and shit. 

“Looks like you reached back just in time”, he teases, and you pout. 

“I feel like a drenched dog. Is this how dogs feel after a shower?” You reply, brushing your hands through your wet locks, all in an attempt to stop yourself from staring at San laugh—his voice is hypnotic enough to make you melt into a puddle already. The cold air from the air conditioning hits you once more, and this time you’re beginning to shiver uncontrollably on top of struggling to open your damn letterbox and not looking like a circus in front of your crush. 

You focus on fidgeting with your letterbox keys, your fingers reaching out to snatch the letters. When you close the latch, San has his hoodie unzipped, and he’s removing said outerwear. 

“San, what are you-“

He’s about to hand you the hoodie, but he instead opts to put his parcels in your hands, and he fucking fits the hoodie around your shoulders, and when he does, his smell floods your senses. He smells like a mix of floral—with hints of spice and citrus, and although for a brief moment, you have it locked in some part of your brain. His fingers brush against yours as he takes his parcels and letters from you, and it doesn’t help that he’s in a black shirt that hugs his biceps, shoulders, and chest a little too well. You barely muster the strength to peel your eyes away, feeling your heart flutter when his fingers brush against yours as he retrieves his packages back from you.

You look up, hoping that the fluorescent lights don’t highlight the heat that’s rushing to your cheeks. You’re still shivering, but suddenly you don’t feel as cold as before. 

“Thank you, San”, you smile. “I’ll wash it and return it to you ASAP.” San smiles in response and the both of you walk to the lift together, light conversations and laughter filling the spaces as your body and your heart gradually warm up.

San is exhausted—he’s been at the lab back to back, drafting report after report, and it’s been taking chunks out of him. Palm against his neck, he tilts his head, shutting his eyes as he stretches his neck, and then he sighs. His superiors finally approved his reports and now he has the god-given chance of going home and catching up on his sleep for the night.

The muffled sounds of his doorbell stir him up from his sleep. He doesn’t shift for a couple of seconds. Then his hands shift across the bedsheets to feel for his phone. The doorbell sounds a couple more times and San grunts in his groggy state, his fingers hitting against the edge of his phone, which he pulls closer to him to check the time.

It’s 2 pm. He crashed for 14 hours last night. 

He slowly sits up, letting his sight adjust to the afternoon sun filtering through his windows before he walks over to the front door. He’s slightly grouchy from the amount of sleep he clocked in, but as he swings the door open, the remainder of his sleep dissipates when he sees that it’s you standing before him.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” You ask, rubbing your neck. “I wanted to return you this..”, you bring up a paper bag to San’s view. San is still registering this.

“But you weren’t home for the past couple of days, and I don’t have your phone number..” 

San blinks. Then his hands reach out to take the paper bag, and his eyes glance downwards. 

Ah, it’s his hoodie. 

He looks up back to you. “Thank you. Don’t tell me you’ve been coming here every day to try to pass me this?” 

“Yes and no..?” you answer with a smile. It spreads to San, who suddenly feels a shot of guilt for making you come to his unit when he wasn’t even there half of the time. 

“I’ll treat you to dinner for the trouble I’ve put you through”, he says hastily. He thinks the way your eyes widen and how pink is flushing at the tip of your ears is so adorable, and then he cuts you off before you attempt to decline his offer, “Pass me your phone.”

The phone in your hand is in his now and he types in his phone number before he hands it back to you. 

He leans in slightly closer, and there is a particular scent that slowly starts to make its way to his brain. Is it coming from you? For some reason, he hasn’t been able to get it out of his head since the day he lent you his hoodie. And there it was again, faint, but it was definitely there.

“Is there anything else I can help you with, y/n?”

He’s almost disappointed when he sees you shake your head, but at the same time, he has lab work to do, so he shuts the door after he sends you off with a smile, not knowing that you omitted that you wore his hoodie a couple more times after washing (mostly due to the cold weather).

He drops off the paper bag on his bedroom floor before he heads off to his home lab.

Unfortunately, the extra 14 hours of sleep still doesn’t spark inspiration for his chemistry, and he ends up spending barely an hour in his lab, mostly tending to his flowers, before he decides to call it a day. 

San is back in his bedroom, and he decides to unpack his hoodie from the paper bag. His hands reach into the bag and retrieve the hoodie, and when he unfolds the hoodie, his mind immediately hazes at the scent coming off the garment. Fuck. It’s even more prominent. It’s the scent that he can’t get out of his fucking head, and now it’s pretty much in his hands. 

You smell like fucking heaven, San thinks, placing the outerwear under his nostrils once more, inhaling, the smell completely entering the crevices of his mind. He groans and curses at the way his erection is pushing against his pants just from your fucking smell. It’s more than just the detergent you use—it’s so much more intimate and intoxicating than that, and it’s undoubtedly driving San fucking crazy. He’s so sure that this is the scent that he’s been chasing after.

San walks over to his bed, comfortable on the mattress while he pushes his pants past his thick thighs, his cockhead pushing against his underwear, forming a dark and wet spot. He inhales shakily, teasing himself, the precum thickening and staining more of his underwear. It doesn’t take him long to kick off his sweats and underwear completely, letting his cock spring out with a relieved sigh, before he slowly starts fucking his hand while his other hand has his head filled with your pheromones. 

The thought of you on that rainy evening, the way the rain had drenched your white shirt through, your bra showing, cupping your tits so fucking teasingly. San wonders if you did it on purpose because he would have just ripped your shirt open right then and there. His repressed fantasies begin to bubble up—the thought of him inviting you to his unit instead, letting his hands feel you up, making sure your goosebumps are from his touches rather than the cold because he swears he can warm you up quickly. He would press himself against you, taking in your scent, before he’d slip his hands underneath your pathetic white shirt, cupping your tits, then sliding your pants off—he knows he can’t even wait till the both of you reach his bedroom—the furthest the both of you would go? The fucking couch.

Your smell floats, and it’s dragging him deeper and deeper. San bucks his hips against his hand, soft moans pouring out his lips, whining your name against the fragrant garment, his precum turning thicker by the minute. He’s liked you ever since he met you when you first moved in, and now you’re filling up every part of his olfactory senses. He’s desperate to fill you up with him, make sure you’re holding your shirt up with your teeth, your eyes filling up with tears as he slams his cock into your warm pussy, over and over, forcing yourself to stay quiet so the neighbours don’t hear.  

Fucking hell. San’s thighs shake slightly at the thought of it. He takes another inhale, and it’s like a dopamine reset once more, perfect at the moment when he’s bringing himself to the edge. Your voice echoes in his head, the pretty sounds you’d make, the expressions that he would indulge in for himself.

Thick streams of cum bubble from his silt, and he almost suffocates himself from the sick pleasure of burying his face in his hoodie drenched in your scent, he catches his breath as the scent slowly fades when he pulls the hoodie from his face, panting from an orgasm that he knows will never be enough one time. 

As San washes off his high in the warm showers, he decides to attempt to recreate your scent, wanting to keep it all for himself. And he knows just a hoodie isn’t gonna be enough.

You’ve been flipping your apartment upside down, looking for your panties. At first, you didn’t notice that one pair went missing—chalking it off as you misplacing your laundry. But when the second one you swore you dropped off in the fresh laundry hamper disappears, along with a third, you realise something was amiss. You retrace your steps—you did have a couple of people over recently, but the majority of them were your girl friends, if you minus off how you and San have been going over to each other’s places for meals ever since the both of you exchanged phone numbers. Undoubtedly, your feelings for him have grown exponentially, especially when the both of you spent time with each other in (almost) close proximity. San had always been polite and helped around with cleaning up the dishes, and he had a very endearing habit of leaning in closer to you—whether to just tease you or to hear you better—it would never fail to make you act flustered around him before you would roll your eyes and push him away. 

Needless to say, the relationship had blossomed since that rainy evening. You just didn’t expect to grow so close with your apartment complex crush, and while there were nights where San’s face, San’s voice, San’s body would bubble up to the surface when your orgasms washed over you, leaving you squirming and shy once the post nut clarity hit, you thought to yourself that the relationship between the both of you was good enough for now.

You scratch your head, racking your brains as to where your panties might have magically disappeared to. You’re lost in thought until the ping from your phone brings you out of it. You go over to check, and it’s from San—reminding you of dinner at his place. Right, the panties can wait for now. 

“I hope I’m not late”, you smile as San opens the door for you to let you in. San returns it, “No, I just placed the order. It’s gonna take awhile.” 

You take a seat on his couch. No matter how many times you’ve been to his place recently, you always feel that it’s still so spacious. 

Then he breaks your train of thought. 

“Is there something you’d like to do while waiting?” You let your eyes wander around his apartment again, and they land on the potted plants on his window sill. 

Your eyes dart away from how San is staring down—his body is facing towards you, giving you his fullest, and it’s making you slightly self-conscious. 

“I’m wondering what you’re always so busy with.”, you say. You’re ready to be rejected when San doesn’t answer right away. Right, it’s probably something personal to him too. But you can’t help but overthink when he doesn’t reply immediately sometimes. It makes you feel so childlike. 

He stands up, gesturing you to follow him. “It’s a little embarrassing”, San replies as he guides you to the tightly shut door. He presses his fingertip onto the keypad—it lights up green and San pushes the door knob down, and the door pushes open. 

It is as if it is another world. The lights are dim and the air is a lot cooler, albeit slightly more humid thanks to the myriad amount of plants littered around the room. He has so many species—differentcolours and different flowers. The scents hit you next, the floral scent floating around your nostrils at different intensities. 

“A whole nursery?” You exclaim, walking near to some of the flowers. 

“Yes and no. It’s more of a lab”, San corrects you, walking over to the heavy desk just full of lab equipment. “Sorry, it’s kinda messy.”

You shake your head, still taking in the sight of his botanically busy room, amazed. 

As you near more of the equipment, the scents grow stronger. The whole lab smells so fragrant, and you’re surprised that it’s not overpowering, to say the least. 

“So, what do you do here exactly?” You ask, taking another whiff of the fragrance while staring at the rows of test tubes before you. 

“I make scents. It’s just a side hobby of mine on top of my research”, San explains. He picks up a test tube and gestures you to take a whiff, and so you do, pleasantly surprised at how much the scent smells just like him. 

“Then what’s your little project now?” 

San pauses. He doesn’t look you in the eye for that split second. As he parts his mouth to answer, the doorbell rings, and it jumps him out of his thoughts. The food is here. 

Seated across San, as you always do, San is plating the takeout while you prepare the utensils. The topic of his lab comes up again, but you completely forget about asking about his projects.

Midway through the conversation, the rice cake that you were trying to eat somehow slips off the utensil and drops onto your clothes, causing you to jump in surprise, somehow toppling your plate with the leftover sauce, on top of staining on your clothes, much to your dismay. 

“Shit”, you curse, casting an irritated glance at the splatter on your clothes. The plate clatters on the floor. You stand there, slightly dumbfounded at the situation. You’re wondering if you should just head home to change out, considering that your unit isn’t too far from his. But before you have the chance to bring up that suggestion, San cuts you off.

“You can drop your clothes into the washing machine. In the meantime, you can borrow my hoodie. It should be on the clean laundry hamper.”

“San-“

He turns to you with a comforting smile. “It’s fine. Rice cake sauce isn’t the easiest to clean off when you leave it for too long. I’ll clean up the floor.”

You realise arguing with him isn’t work out in your favour, nor will it get the rice cake sauce off your clothes any quicker, so you decide to heed his words and head to his room.

Undressing yourself once you shut the door, you drop your soiled clothes into the washing machine. It was then you realise that you are pretty much naked, in Choi San’s fucking bedroom. Struggling to keep your head out of the gutter, you decide to focus on finding that damn grey hoodie. Your eyes scan his room, trying to search for the grey hoodie. And your eyes land on a thick-looking piece of garment on one of the laundry hampers. You walk over to pick it up.

You put his hoodie over, and there it is again—the spicy citrus smell. Choi San’s smell. Your thighs push against each other a little tighter this time. Then something in your peripherals catch your attention—a lace garment. You inch closer, and your heart drops. 

It’s a pair of lace underwear. 

Fuck. Is he seeing someone and he didn’t tell you? A thick lump forms in your throat. 

And then it goes away when you start picking up another two more panties from the hamper, and the realisation hits you like a fucking truck—these are your fucking panties. 

Things are not adding up in your brain, that’s for fucking sure. 

At that moment, San bursts into the bedroom, and a panicked expression scribbled across his face. His eyes are blown wide open when they land on the three pairs of panties in your hands. 

You stare back at him, almost mirroring his expression, the only difference being confusion for you instead. 

The corner of San’s lips pull into a half smile. “Oops.”

“San, what’s the meaning of this?” You ask, feeling your face flush rapidly. 

“Well”, San pauses. “you asked what scent I’m making next right? It’s yours.” 

“My scent?” You echo back in question to him. San sighs, his shoulders relaxing as he inches closer to you, trapping you underneath him when you finally hit his bed. 

“Yes, darling. Your scent”, his voice almost turning into a whisper, dropping octaves lower. “You’re so cruel—keeping something so intoxicating to yourself.” 

You swallow hard. San’s eyes still reflect his usual gentle demeanor, but now it’s slowly being tinted with something else. Something more ominous. Despite that, it only draws you in, like a prey being slowly hypnotized by her predator. You should be shocked, terrified even, but the only thing streaming through the nerves of your brain is the internal begging for San to just eat you up right now. 

You suddenly realise that the hoodie isn’t zipped up, the outerwear slipping down your arms. You remain still, your heartbeat slamming against your ribcage. 

“You can run out of my apartment now. I’m giving you five seconds”, San tells you, and your mind is spinning at the thought of him even giving you a chance to leave. 

Five seconds pass. You’re still staring up at the male above you, whose lips are curling into a satisfied smirk. 

His fingers cup your jaw, and he tells you, “Open up.” Sparks splatter across your eyelids the moment his lips collide with yours. You pull him closer on instinct, the feeling of his thick erection behind the two layers of fabric sending you into an orbit on top of his tongue teasing yours. He pulls back, licking off the strings of saliva between the both of you. His gaze is locked onto yours.

“Please? Let me taste you. I promise I’ll make you feel so fucking good”, his request sounding more like a beg. Your mind is hazy. Choi San? In between your fucking legs? You swallow hard, and then you nod. 

San lowers himself to your clothed cunt, his eyes shut in bliss when he presses himself against your pussy. 

“Heaven”, is all he mutters, his eyes casting you a glazed expression that was definitely about to drive you fucking insane, before his fingers pull against the waistband of your panties, slipping them off you. 

The moment you feel his tongue press against your pussy, your mind threatens to shut off. San is breathing heavily against your soaking pussy, taking in the sight, taste, and smell of what you’re finally giving to him. Every time your thighs jerk to shut at the sensation of his tongue licking you up, his hands push you open for him forcing you to take his tongue in your cunt, and it’s wiping out any remaining rational thoughts you didn’t even know you had. 

Your fingers tug against his scalp, pushing your hips deeper onto his tongue, your back arched from how fucking good he feels. His tongue is lapping you up, teasing your clit over and over again once he hits the sweet spot, his fingers leaving imprints on your thighs when he hears you whine and moan his name. 

All San can think about is how fucking amazing you taste—he knew it would be another fucking level than pressing his nose against the fabric of your panties and fucking into his hand for the past few weeks, but actually letting you fuck his face? He’s on fucking cloud nine. 

His glazed-out eyes shift to look up at you, watching the way you’re squirming under him, the sounds of his wet tongue fucking you, tasting you, echoing around his room. Your cream and pussy are the only things he can register, and he wants to keep it for himself, forever.

“S-San-“, you cry out, your mind just threatening to blank out at every flick of his tongue. He’s building your orgasm at such a dangerous pace, and tears are pooling at the corners of your eyes when you feel something funny bubbling at the pit of your stomach. “I think I’m gonna fuck-“

“That’s it. Let it go for me. That’s a good fucking girl”, San encourages, before his tongue presses against your clit, giving you another lick before white washes over you, your cunt pulsing violently against his tongue from the sheer pleasure, then clear fluids splattering onto San’s pretty face—who seemed unfazed, considering he’s still lapping your cunt up, while you’re almost thrashing above him as the overstimulation starts to sink in. Your moans sound like cries when you beg him to stop. San doesn’t relent, and he only stops when he suddenly whimpers, switching over to kiss your thighs, decorating your plump flesh with love bites. He pushes a finger in, letting you stain and coat his fingers, enjoying your whines before he pulls out and towers over you. 

“Fuck, if I’d known you’d taste this good, I would have stolen your panties sooner”, he mutters, cleaning his fingers with his tongue, desperate to taste you again.

You’re catching your breath from going through the most mind-blowing orgasm, watching San pulling his shirt over his head, and then slipping out of his sweats, your breath caught in your throat when his fat cock comes into view, thick and heavy, and covered in thick cum. 

San’s fingers curl around your neck, and he lowers himself to litter kisses across your neck and jaw, it’s giving you goosebumps, your arms automatically wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. 

He pauses right at the shell of your ear. 

“I want to wear you over and over again. I want to lock you up in me—bottle you up so I can keep you for myself.”

“Then do it. I’m here for you to dip into your pretty little fantasies in, San.”

You swear you see something snap in the poor male, especially from the way he takes a deep inhale—shakily— before he parts your lips with his, leaving you breathless when your little steamy make-out session ends. 

“You don’t know what you do to me, darling”, San cautions when he pulls back. His hair is tousled but fuck, he still looks so fucking good. “And I’m not stopping even if you’re screaming.”

Fuck. 

He fucks his hand, soft sighs leaving his lips, as his cum dribbles down his length, before he lines up to your hole and pushes in easily. 

You hear him groan above you, your eyes are fixated on the way he’s losing himself in your pussy, and your mind is finally growing blank the more his cock fills you up. He’s stretching you open so fucking good, filling you up to the hilt. 

“You’re squeezing me so much, darling. Fuck. Are you fucking kidding me?” His eyebrows are scrunched, his hands holding your legs up while he lets you adjust to his cock. 

But he doesn’t warn you before he starts moving, his impatience completely overriding any ounce of rationale he has left in him. 

“So good. San, you feel so fucking good”, your moans sounding like cries whenever his hips snap against yours, the obscene sounds only adding to the tension. 

“You take me so fucking well, darling”, San’s voice is ringing in your ears. “Look at your fucking pussy just swallowing me up like that.” 

You don’t even reply to that, your eyes are rolled to the back of your head, and your head is somewhere in fucking heaven where San is definitely fucking you into. 

Just when you feel that you were about fucking fall apart on his cock, he pulls out, and you barely manage to catch your breath when San instructs you to turn over. You do, your ass up for him, and he enters your cunt once more, before fucking into you from the back. You don’t fucking know how, but you swear that his cock feels even thicker from the back.

His hands press against your hips, fucking you deep before he lets his hands slide down your body and he stops at your neck, gesturing you to look up at him as he leans down to press his lips against yours—all while rearranging your guts from the back. 

He lets you pull back when you feel your neck is growing sore, and then he puts his body weight onto you, his arm tucking underneath your neck. 

“Such a good fucking girl for me. You feel so fucking amazing”, San whispers, tickling every crevice of your brain as he presses his nose against the curve between your neck and shoulder, his thrusts turning more like ruts. The arm lock around your neck isn’t cutting off oxygen thankfully, but the thought of him choking you out only drags you closer to your high. 

“Cumming, I’m cumming San-“, you whimper, tears trickling from your eyes from how much his cock is constantly hitting in such deep fucking spots of your pussy. 

“Me too, babe. Gonna fill you up so nice and good, that’s what you’d like, right?” San teases, his cock twitching in you before he groans, his warm cum filling you up so good right at the same time your orgasm hits you once more, making you squeeze even more cum from San, perfectly milking him dry in your pussy. 

“So fucking perfect”, you hear San mutter, and you can’t help but flush, even though he just fucked every ounce of sanity out of you. His lips trail down the nape of your neck, his eyes are locked onto you, hazy and tinted with a hint of a growing obsession you could never tell. 

He’s not letting go of you. 

[eupheme]

okay but someone (you !!!) should write a cute little oneshot of that tik tok trend where you call logan your boyfriend (even though he’s your husband) and he is just not!!! happy!!! and all pouty about it !!!

ORRRRR (if not maybe both 👀) one where Logan is your boyfriend and you call him your husband and he just melts and is so happy to be around you and in your presence

everything you do is amazing!!! 💖💖💖

ooh hi hi anon! I’ve seen this trend and it’s so cute to think about Logan being like ‼️ about it - I did a little drabble for each scenario! I hope you like them! 💖 (and ahh, thank you so much!)

little games | logan howlett x f!reader

800 words | logan pov, fluff, possessive thoughts

After another long shift, your smile is all he needs.

Unable to help the tired curve of his lips as he hears your voice - the “hi honey” that you coo, from where you lean against the kitchen counter.

Phone tucked against your ear, a notebook and colorful pens splayed out in front of you.

“Sound goods, Saturday is great. Listen, I gotta go-,” Your attention pulls from him, though his eyes linger as he crouches - working on the laces of his boots.

Standing, just as he hears the rest of your goodbye.

“-my husband just got home.”

He almost trips.

Warmth floods through him, a cock of his head as he wonders if he misheard.

But his senses always had been keen.

“Mhmm.” You hum - as he slowly crosses the room. Coming up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist just as you wrap up your call.

Unable to help the tilt of his head - pressing his lips against your neck. Inhaling you, that pretty layer of scents that now linger in his home.

Something stirs, as he lets his mind run free.

“Yep,” You squirm, your hand layering over his, “See you then. Bye!”

He only gives you just enough space to twist yourself around. Still pinning you against the counter, his eyes darkened.

“Hi.” You smile, tipping your lips up to his, “Missed you.”

It’s murmured back, just as his mouth presses to yours. Sweet, when his tongue licks against your lip, his hands slipping up to cradle your jaw.

Letting himself imagine, for just a minute. Still quiet, when you pull away - the mark between his brow deepening.

Never one to beat around the bush, the words slipping before he can think too much about it.

“Called me your husband.” He husks, “You know that?”

He should catch that you’re not caught off-guard. That there’s almost a guilty flicker in your eye, before you’re inhaling a breath.

Head tilting to match his. His eyes dropping to where your tongue peeks out to wet your lip.

“Sorry, baby. Must have slipped up,” You shrug, shyly, “Did it bother you?”

The name curls in his chest, slipping around his ribs. Only adding to the flicker of desire, the soft warmth that’s settled beneath his skin.

“No.” He husks.

Dipping to kiss you again. Hips pressing flush, the curving ridge of his jeans indicating exactly how it made him feel.

“Not when it’s you saying it.”

Logan never really minds meeting the people you grew friendly with.

You attract them in a way he never did. Picking up the names of everyone in the apartment complex long before he does. The couple that live on the floor above. The old man and his dog three doors down.

Your hand patting his chest, as you stop to chat with an older woman at the base of the stairs.

“You remember Logan, right?” You ask her, “My boyfriend.”

And suddenly, he minds. Head whipping towards you so quickly his neck almost cracks.

Eyebrow arching as the women - Gladys - coos over them, the words petering out to white noise as he frowns.

“Husband.” Logan cuts in, gruffly - the gold glinting off his finger as he reaches out to shake her hand.

You giggle. Gladys only exclaims - and it’s all he can do to keep his jaw from clenching so hard his teeth crack.

A hand at your back, already guiding you towards the apartment before your goodbyes are finished. Backing you against the door the second it’s shut, as you blink up at him.

“Tryin’ to be cute?” He asks - and he can hear the edge in his voice, “Another one of your little games?”

Knows he hit the nail on the head when your teeth sink into your lip. Biting back a smile, as your voice pitches up.

“What do you mean?”

He huffs. Hands flattening against the wood - seeing how your eyes go wide as he leans in.

“Calling me your boyfriend.” Logan grits out, “When we both know how fucking eager you were to take my name.”

How wet it makes you, when he has you beneath him. Fingers entwined, a matching ring around yours.

There’s hunger in your eyes. His lips ghosting against yours - pulling away just as you lean to kiss him.

“Uh-uh.” His head shakes, “What am I?”

You pout, but he only hums - expectant. Possessive.

Logan’s voice dropping low.

“Come on, baby.” He coaxes, “Lemme hear you say it.”

Your scent blooms sweet, and he almost groans. Lets your lips press against his this time, your answer breathed out.

“My husband.”

“That’s my girl.” He smirks.

Kissing you soundly, then.

Already imaging how the cool press of his ring will feel when he’s got three fingers buried deep inside you.

Maybe then you won’t ‘forget’.

[belovedcloud]

Boxes

pairing: older! neighbour! leon kennedy x fem! reader

✎ notes: older leon has been rotting my brain recently, especially DI leon ugh. i'm making another fic with him but I honestly might do vendetta leon. i just know this man would help you out with moving in.

➤ WC: 3K

➤ CW: strangers to lovers? pet names: sweetheart, love, baby, darling, good girl. reader is seen to be in their low 20s whilst leon being 38. leon feeling ashamed of himself for liking you, mentions of ada, helena, claire. leon has a fleshlight. touch starved Leon. both you and Leon are a bit tipsy. tit play, leon eating you out, p in v (unprotected sex), aftercare.

MINORS DNI!

Carrying boxes was strenuous. You moved in a few weeks ago from your parents house, it was time for a new start. Although, your arms seem to regret the decision as you lift up the remainder of your boxes to the 12th floor. But it wasn't as bad when you had a certain man by your side. Leon was lucky enough to see you struggle your way up the apartment complex. Your first meeting with him had a slight tinge of embarrassment but soon died down as you got to know each other soon enough. With Leon carrying all of your heavy belongings such as your disheveled chairs and whatnot - you could see the strain on his muscles, it was attractive without a doubt. Despite the fact that he was older than you, the way he carried himself with looks and personality made him extremely enchanting. He was a man of charisma.

Today was like no other, however, it was the last lot of boxes you had stored in your parents house. Therefore, it shouldn't be that hard right? Leon was coming to help you out anyways, he insisted.

A few minutes passed, your back towards your car as you wait for Leon to come out of the complex. A similar silhouette appeared, Leon closed the door behind him - approaching you with a small smile. "Last set today then?" He spoke out to you as he opened the trunk of the car. "Yeah, good for you right? Your old back won't be cracking every 5 minutes" You teased leading to Leon giving a low chuckle as he looked at you. "Old? You wound me." He laughed out as he took an airy box. "I don't look that old do I?" He passed the package to you, taking a hefty one for himself. "No... no, you look good." You mumbled out, hoping he didn't take the compliment in a different way. "Good? I'll take it." Leon gave you a smirk as he shifted the box, walking towards the door. You hurried up behind him, ensuring you didn't make yourself look weird. Entering into the complex with a nervous look on your face. Even though moving in was arduous, the thoughts of not speaking to Leon daily made you feel quite upset. How would you even make up an excuse to see him? Knowing him for a few weeks was short but the way you linked with each other was different. It was like you were friends for years, comfort was found within you when you spoke to Leon. If only you knew how he felt about you.

Leon felt bad. He felt ashamed that he found you so attractive. The way your shirt hugged your body and your jeans show the curvature of your ass and your thighs strained. You were so much younger than him - he couldn't help his mind wandering to images of you whilst he laid in his own bed. Wishing it was yours. He built your bedframe, he helped you place the soft clean mattress on top. Yet he felt pure filth in his self as he thought of your body on his. His hands intertwined with yours as ideas of fucking you flooded his brain. Night after night it would be the same for him, his cock thrusting into his hand or fleshlight. He tried to think of anyone else but you. Ada, Claire, Helena could only stay in his mind for a mere 20 seconds before his brain cogged back to you. You. It wouldn't help hearing you over the thins walls as you touched yourself. The softest but most pornographic moans leaving your lips. Leon only wished that it was him making you sound that way, but it was wrong. What would his friends think if he dated you? He believed he was out of your league - if only he knew about the sinful thoughts you had about him too when you indulged in your own pleasure. Two fingers thrusting into your cunt wishing it was his, gushing all over your thighs as images of him engulfed your brain.

"Stay here, I'll get the last few boxes for you." Leon maintained a steady voice shaking out the immoral ideas in his head. Keeping a level-headed smile he gave you a small wave before you could argue back. Seeing his back turned towards you, your eyes subconsciously wandered on it. Soon landing onto his biceps, subtle veins leading to his hands as he went stood in front of the elevator. Snapping yourself out of your trance, you unpacked the two boxes you and Leon took up. Placing the glasses into the kitchen cabinet and hanging up clothes was therapeutic in some way. Helping you calm yourself from your thoughts on Leon as you felt a wet patch on your panties. Pouring out a glass of wine for two as you waited for Leon to come back.

"I think that's it.. unless you have some hidden ones in your car?" He joked as he placed down the final box to the side, looking up to see you with two glasses of wine in your hand. "Oh?" He smiled, stretching his back before walking to you. "Seems like you need this then." You giggled passing him the glass, Leon rolling his eyes as he took it. "Thank you for the past few weeks helping me move in... I was wondering if you wanted to relax for a bit?" You murmured, sitting down on your couch. Leon soon accompanying you. "How can I say no?" He gave you a slight smirk as the rim of the wine glass pressed against his lips, the alcoholic liquid sliding down his throat.

A bottle or two of wine later caused the both of you to erupt into laughter and giggles - getting to know each other quite well. You learned that Leon worked for the government, although not being able to go into grave detail, he was an important figure for the USA. It wasn't long until you also explained what your job was, explaining in why you chose your path. However, you felt hot. Way too hot as you sensed his eyes gaze all over you. Lingering onto your lips and eyes as he looked at you with such awe and fascination. Leon felt warm within himself, you were like a new light that he had been longing for. You spoke without care, refreshing for him as his job withheld such secrecy. An urge secreted in him as your soft lips moved with grace. He yearned for you, and it was becoming evident from the pained strain in his jeans.

Taking another sip from your drink, you spoke without thinking. "How's your love life?" Shit. Was that too personal? Hoping for the best outcome you fiddled with your glass as your eyes wandered to his face, trying to decipher what expression he had. "Boring. If I'm being honest with you, I haven't dated anyone for years." A deep chuckle elicited out of his throat. The rasp laced in his tone giving you a shiver. "Seriously? You're joking." A giggle came out of you. Was he actually single? "Nope. But I'm surprised you don't have a certain someone here. You've got a boyfriend haven't you?" Leon hiccupped out, the alcohol making him feel fuzzy. To his surprise, your head shook side to side. "No, I'm single alright." You said with a soft smile plastered on your face. Leon genuinely couldn't believe it. A woman like you single? "Now that's a surprise." Leon grinned as he finished his 4th glass of wine. "Well, I'm sure you'll be able to find a man of your age. Although most of them are probably a pain in your ass." He laid back onto the couch, his arm behind his head. Again, your eyes couldn't help but avert to the flex of his bicep. This time, it didn't go unnoticed.

"You're right." A sigh came from your lips, "Which is why I don't usually go for guys my age." You admitted, making Leon confused. So who did you go for? "Hm? So you like younger men?" He asked, staring into your eyes with his own lustful ones. Praying that what you were looking for was the opposite of young. A mellow giggle followed out of your mouth as you shook your head once more. "No, I like older men." Leon's smirk became wider as those words left your mouth. Maybe he had a chance after all. Perhaps his wrongful thoughts were okay with you - that you wouldn't mind a man near twice your age to fuck you. "Really sweetheart?" A low groan drawn out his throat, his eyes basically fucking you. That same heat returned to you, just much more insatiable.

It was like a flip in you switched, your body longing for touch as so for Leon. Sloppy kisses shared between you two as Leon's hands gripped the fat on your hips. Subconsciously grinding himself into you as he felt your clit throb on his crotch. Your quiet whimpers muffled by the crashing of yours and Leon's lips unmethodical rhythms as saliva was shared. "F-Fuck.." A moan left Leon's lips, his head clouded by lust as he tapped your legs. "Wrap 'em around me darling." He demanded as he held you up, your legs squeezed tight around his waist - your irregular breathing echoing in his mind. Leon wasn't going to just fuck you on the couch, he wanted to show you his love. Heavy footsteps followed behind him as he nudged your bedroom door open, placing you gently on your newly built bed. "Let's see how well I built this frame, yeah?" Leon joked as he littered your neck with butterfly kisses. Pinning you down, stopping your squirming beneath him. "L-Leon..." That was enough to get him going, the pornographic moan after the lustful mumble of his name had his cock throbbing for more. He wanted you, he needed you.

Leon's hands slowly crept under your shirt, caressing your chest as he kneaded your tits. Pinching at your nipples to elicit another whine out of you. Your soft, mellow skin opposed his calloused hands. The hands that killed bioweapons were fondling with your tits, shakily taking off your shirt to show them in true beauty. "So fucking gorgeous." Leon groaned out, without a doubt in his mind he shoved his head in between your breasts. Your whimpers echoed throughout your bedroom, just to be stopped as you gasped when you felt his knee part your legs. Rubbing your clothed clit as he sucked on the plush parts of your tits. His hands methodically unbuttoned your jeans, slowly pulling them off you as he saw your pretty laced panties. They would've looked so innocent if it wasn't for the soaked wet patch in the middle of them. "All this for me baby?" He murmured, enchanted by how wet you were. You could couldn't help but frantically nod your head, needing to feel his touch somewhere else. "P-Please Leon.. need you to touch me." You moaned gently, your hips bucking for any type of touch. Who was he to say no to such a polite question? "Alright sweetheart.. C'mon spread your legs f'me." He ordered and you obeyed, feeling like mush in his hands.

The pads of his fingers played with the lace and the little bow at the top. Cute. Slowly, he slid your panties to the side, your slick leaving a small strand attached to the material. Leon was mesmerized by the sight, yet you felt embarrassed. Trying to close your legs failed as his strong hands pried you open. "Don't close 'em love, you're so beautiful. Let me appreciate you, yeah?" He groaned, feeling himself rut into your fresh linen sheets. Leon positioned himself in front of your clit, feeling his mouth water as he looked at it. His eyes flickering to you before asking "Do you want me to carry on darling?" His hot breath tickling you, a soft moan squeezed out your throat. "Yes.. Please Leon.. Want your tongue on my clit." Leon gave you a deep chuckle in response, his eyes flickering back to your clit. "'Atta girl.. Didn't know you were so dirty." He whispered before licking your slit, slowly capturing you in his mouth.

This was pure filth. Your moans alongside the wet sounds your pussy was making as Leon's pistoned two fingers in and out of you. His tongue skillfully flicking over your clit as his baby blue eyes watched your reactions. Your fingers felt themselves entangled in Leon's hair, pulling at his strands as choked moans fell out of your mouth. Chasing for that sweet release, you subconsciously bucked your hips, allowing for Leon's nose to press up against your clit. Deep, shallow moans trembled into your clit as Leon was determined to make you cum. He wanted all of you, he needed you to be ready for his cock. "C'mon, give it to me baby." He pressed his tongue against you, curving his fingers in you in the right spot. "L-Leon... I'm gonna.." Your sentence was soon cut off by the shaking of your body as the coil in you snapped. The orgasm took over your body, your lips chanting his name as you pulled on his hair. Granting you a groan from Leon as he swallowed your cum. "So sweet." He chuckled, pulling himself off you. Before pulling your face close to his, allowing you to taste yourself as he kissed you.

Leon felt a hand tug on his shirt, your pleading eyes staring into his blue ones. A smirk tugged his face as he took off his shirt. Slowly unbuckling his belt, removing his jeans alongside it too. Your cunt ached to be fucked, your mind telling you that only Leon could satisfy your needs.

He pulled down his boxers, a pretty dark red tip beamed at you. Glistening with pre-cum smeared all of it. You couldn't help but stare as Leon's face flushed a light pink. "Fuck.. Don't look at it like that sweetheart." He moaned softly, positioning himself right up against your entrance. "You ready?" His hand slowly caressed your face, a nod coming from you as he intertwined his hand with yours. He was big. Real fucking big as you felt yourself stretch open, your eyes rolling back in pain mixed with pleasure. Fuck. Leon could've came right there as he saw your expression change. You were so attractive. He slowly rutted himself into you, moaning your name as his hips sputtered. "Y-You alright?" He stuttered out, you were so tight. "Yeah.. I'm okay. You can move Leon." A soft smile appeared on your face, he couldn't help but reciprocate it back. He moved his hips, his thrusts soft - but it was hard to keep it that way after a minute. His thighs started to slap against yours as his dick pistoned into you. Leon threw his head back in otherworldly pleasure, moaning sweet nothings as he felt himself lose himself inside of you. You were no different. Your moans and screams increased in volume and pitch as you felt him pound into you. Your legs shaking in pleasure as you felt that same coil tighten in you again. "My good girl.. f-fuck so fucking good f'me." Leon growled, feeling his body become weak to your pheromones. He buried his head into your neck, marking you with lovebites. He felt his dick throb as his hips moved without thought.

"Leon.. I'm gonna cum again.. Feels too good." Mewls escaped from your throat as your hands scrapped at his back. Scratching him. The pain mixed with pleasure was enough for Leon to start panting as he felt himself get close. "Cum for me, please cum for me baby.." He whined as he thrusted into your sweet little pussy. You were so pretty for him, his good girl. The marks on your neck slowly started to become more evident, a smirk appeared on his face as he saw you scrunch up your face. His hand snaked down to your clit, slowly rubbing it. Giving you a whole new sensation as you felt his dick pulsate inside you. "I.. I.. Leon!" The coil in you snapped again, twice as hard as you creamed all over his cock. He didn't stop smacking himself into you, a white ring forming at the base. Leon started to chase his own high. "Take it, take it, take it." He chanted as he felt his hips stammer. The clapping of your skin quickly died down as Leon jerked himself out of you, rubbing his dick as his cum splattered all over your stomach. You couldn't help but think how handsome he looked as he threw his head back, moaning your name.

After both of your highs, Leon practically collapsed on top of you. "G-Get off.. You're so heavy." You tried to push him off, a laugh escaping Leon's lips as he pulled himself off of you. Pressing a soft kiss against your lips. He climbed out of your bed, pulling up his boxers and walked out of your bedroom. Soon, he returned with a damp cloth in his hand with two bottles of water in the other. Whilst wiping you down, Leon flashed you a quick smile and passed you the cold bottle. Your lips pursed the top as you gulped down the liquid. "C'mon... Let's shower." He took his hand into yours, lifting you up from your bed and carrying you to your bathroom. Your hot thighs pressed against the cold counter as he flipped the shower on. "Hey guess what." Leon couldn't help but giggle out the sentence. Your eyebrow cocked up as you looked over to him. "What?" You asked him with a smile on your face.

"At least we know I built the frame right." He laughed out, finding himself hilarious. "Oh shut up." Your laughter soon followed along.

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! thank u for reading :)

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