#I FORGOT GLISTENS LEGGING THINGS

[chocobje]

Trying to practice drawing other characters that's not just the same 4 toons

[sceletaflores]

slippin' and slidin' all over you!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, sweating, mutual masturbation, sweat licking (i don't know???), not-so-dry humping, p in v, JUST THE TIP RAHHH, creampie, fingering (fem!recieving), oral sex (fem!receiving), come swapping, come eating, literally over four thousand words of pure nasty smut, this is gross lowkey, idk i'm h*rny, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: very much not the winner or even an option of the poll i posted last week but...shhh don't hate me. it’s october and over 80 every single day, what the fuck is that? only good thing that came from this heat is thoughts of nasty sweaty sex with logan. once again shoutout to my wonderful husband @ebodebo for reading this over for me (i successfully changed her vendetta against sucking up some man sweat...which was the real point of this fic tbh) go give her fics some love if you're a slut for ghost! kisses!

logan forgot to fix the ac...

It's too hot out to be alive. 36°C and sunny.

One of the hottest days in recent memory for Alberta, and you're really feeling it.

"Remind me," you say slowly, the first words spoken in almost ten minutes. "How many times did I ask you to fix the air conditioner?"

"Don't start," Logan says from his spot across the room. His head is tipped back to rest on the couch cushion, eyes slipped shut.

You ignore him, lazily rolling your head to the side to look at him through squinted eyes, your brows furrowed in thought. "Was it ten? Or maybe thirteen?"

Logan huffs a breath, slow and heavy, but he doesn't move--doesn't even open his eyes. “I said don’t start,” he mutters again, though there’s the faintest edge of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Don't worry baby," you say, voice pitched lower in a terrible impersonation of Logan. "I'll get to it, promise. Won’t get too hot for another couple months."

Logan finally cracks an eye open, just enough to give you a sideways glance, his mouth twitching with amusement. "You done?"

You hum noncommittally, the sound lingering in the air like the lazy summer breeze doing nothing to cool the temperature outside. Your gaze slips down the side of his face to trace the jut of his jaw, then lower to the sweaty column of his neck. 

Both you and Logan lost most of your clothes earlier in the day, too hot to bother wearing anything but underwear. You trudged around the house like zombies until you finally gave up on trying to be productive, you both ended up in the living room. 

All the windows are cracked open, trying in vain to let in any cool air. You claimed the armchair closest to the fan, refusing to be anywhere near Logan and the massive heat wave he constantly gives off.

Logan’s on the couch, stripped down to the thinnest pair of sleep shorts you’ve ever seen. His chest is bare, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat that mats the dark hair dusted along his pecs to his skin. 

You can’t help the way your eyes follow the drops of moisture that slide slowly down the contours of his abs. A low heat starting to swirl through your gut when it disappears into his happy trail.

It's funny. When you basically peeled yourself off your mattress this morning, sex was the absolute last thing on your mind.

Now, as your eyes glide over the strong expanse of Logan's body on full display, you're having second thoughts.

Maybe it just comes with the heat. That sort of slow, syrupy feeling that slides along your overheated skin to pulse pleasantly between your thighs.

A bead of sweat slides down the length of your spine slowly, falling until it soaks into the damp waistband of your panties. You try to not notice how Logan is halfway across the room, not touching you.

You fail.

“It’s just a shame, though,” you start, fingers idly toying with the hem of your tank top. “If it was cooler, I could come over there.”

You slide a leg up, letting it rest against the wooden rest, newly exposed skin gleaming under the sunlight filtering in. 

The move isn't lost on Logan. You see his jaw clench slightly, the tiniest shift in his posture.

"Something you wanted?" Logan asks, his voice going low and teasing. "Looks like you've been gettin' yourself all worked up over there."

“Just thinking,” you reply, shifting slightly on the sticky leather of the chair.

Logan’s fingers twitch at his sides, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. His eyes slide the rest of the way open, his gaze heavy and lingering as it ventures down to where your thin shirt sticks to your skin, outlining every curve.

“Oh yeah?” he prompts, his voice a little rougher now. “Thinkin’ about what, baby?”

“You,” you say easily, fingers slipping down to your thigh. You bring your other leg up, perching it against the opposite armrest. Your thighs spread wide enough that you know Logan has a full view of the wet spot growing along the gusset of your panties.

The hitch in Logan’s breath has you stifling a smug smile, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch the way his chest starts rising faster.

"That's real sweet, sugar," he drawls, an unimpressed look on his face as he drags his eyes back up to your own. "But if you're tryin' to get me over there, you're gonna have to do better than that." His voice slides through the air heavy and warm like molasses.

You bite back a grin, enjoying the slow game that's unfolding between the two of you. 

"Maybe I don’t want you to come over here," you let your fingers trail a little lower, just to the edge of your panties, teasing. “Maybe I like you right where you are.”

Logan’s brow raises, his thighs tensing before he spreads them just a touch wider. The fabric of his boxers goes taut over the strong muscle, riding up to expose even more hairy skin to your greedy eyes.

"You're playin' with fire, kid," he warns.

The tent in his shorts is obvious now, the hard length of his cock pressing against the fabric where it lays across his thigh. Your other hand twitches by your side at just the sight, your pussy throbbing with the sudden need to be filled.

"Am I?" you murmur, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, just enough to make sure he knows exactly where this is headed. ”It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it, you’re too busy pouting."

With a deliberate slowness, you slide your fingers lower, brushing against your clit with just enough pressure to let out a soft gasp at the contact. You arch your back slightly, relishing in the way the air feels against your skin, hot and sticky.

You want him to see how badly you need him—how his heat is the only thing that could truly satisfy the insatiable ache building between your legs.

Logan's nostrils flare, jaw tightening and eyes darkening at the sight of you teasing yourself. His restraint is slipping, and you can practically feel the tension building in the room, thick and stifling like the oppressive summer heat. 

But he still doesn’t move, doesn’t rush over like you expect him to. Instead, he shifts his hips slightly, spreading his legs wider and letting his hand fall on his thigh. 

You can’t help the way your breath quickens at the sight, the way his fingers drift dangerously close to his own growing bulge, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him. 

You tilt your head to the side, gazing at him through your lashes. “You're really just gonna leave me hanging?” you goad, fingers circling lazily around your sensitive clit. “Come on stud, whip it out.”

Logan chuckles low, a sound that sends shivers through you. "Is that what you want, baby?" he asks, voice thick and taunting, a smirk curling on his lips. “You want me to whip it out for you?”

“Yeah,” you murmur breathlessly, biting your lip as you maintain eye contact, your breath starting to come in short bursts. “I need to see you, Logan. Need to see how hard you are for me.”

“Need to, huh,” he muses slowly, fingers finally grazing over the hard length of his cock. “What’s in it for me?”

“How about this?” You slip your hand out from your ruined panties, fingers glistening with your own wetness as you hook your thumbs on either side and drag them down your legs.

You let the soaked cotton fall to the floor, leaving you completely exposed to him.

Logan’s pupils dilate, an inky black completely swallowing the warm hazel. He licks his lips slowly, the tip of his tongue running along his teeth like he wants to sink them into you. His cock twitches visibly beneath his shorts, the growing tension in the air between you thick enough to choke on.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, his voice low and gravelly, more of a growl than a word.

You smile, shifting in the chair to give him an even better view, your legs spreading wider. "Yeah?" you purr, running your fingers over your slick inner thigh, feeling the heat radiating from your own skin. “You like what you see?”

Logan swallows hard, his hand finally slipping beneath the waistband of his shorts, palming his cock as he watches you. “You know I do,” he says, voice rougher than before. 

You let your hand trail back down to your clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles as you hold his gaze. “Then show me, Logan,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea now. "I wanna see you."

Logan lets out a low, rumbling groan, his fingers making quick work of shoving his shorts down enough to free his cock. It springs free to slap lewdly against his stomach and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips at the sight.

He strokes himself slowly to start, his eyes locked on you, watching your every reaction, feeding off the way your chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths.

"Like this?" he asks, his tone taunting as he strokes himself from base to tip, his thumb swiping over the head with a low hiss. “That what you wanted?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, straining and in his hand. The sight of his thumb brushing over the tip of his cock sends a hot, electric pulse through your body, your hand between your legs moving in time with his slow strokes.

"Yeah," you whisper, voice trembling with need. "Just like that."

You slip your hand lower, sliding two fingers inside yourself with a low moan. Logan groans like he’s the one being touched, his hand speeds up, eyes glued to where your fingers disappear in your slick heat.

His cock leaks pre-come over his knuckles each time his fist passes over the dripping head, the wet sound of it mixing with the low hum of the fan and your own breathy sighs.

"You look so fuckin' good like this honey," Logan groans, his voice rough, strained. "All spread out, playing with that pretty pussy for me."

You whimper at his words, your body aching for more than just your own touch. You need him, need the feel of his rough hands on your skin, his mouth, his cock—anything.

Your fingers move faster, slipping deeper inside with each pump, but it’s still not enough. The stretch is nothing compared to taking Logan, to the feeling of him carving a place for his thick cock inside your pussy, hitting that spot inside you that your fingers can’t quite reach.

Your hips buck up towards your hand, your back arching off the chair as your free hand clutches the armrest tightly.

Logan’s pace quickens, his fist pumping his cock with a new urgency, heavy balls bouncing with every rough tug.

“God, look at you, such a needy fuckin’ thing” he growls, chest heaving as his gaze flicks between your flushed face and the glistening mess you’re making of yourself like he can’t decide where to look. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

"Please," you whine, desperation creeping into your voice. Too keyed up to draw this out any longer. “I need you inside me, Logan. I can’t take it anymore.”

Logan groans, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. His hand falters slightly on his cock, squeezing hard around the base as your words push him dangerously close to the edge. His jaw clenches, eyes raking over you, and with a growl, he stands. 

The last threads of his restraint snapping.

 He crosses the room in two long strides, towering over you where you sit. His cock swollen and hard, sways between his legs with every step, glistening with pre-come that drips to the floor. His eyes, hooded and burning, drink you in as he reaches down, yanking your hand away from your slick heat.

“Thought you said it was too hot to move,” you tease breathlessly, unable to quit egging him on even when your legs start to tremble with need, spreading wider to welcome him.

Logan ignores you, tugging your hand to his lips. Your breath catches in your chest, a weak moan escaping you as he takes your soaked fingers in his mouth. His tongue swirling along your skin to taste you, his eyes never leaving yours as he does.

“Changed my mind,” he growls, strong hands rough and possessive as they drop your wrist and haul you out of the chair so he can spin around, collapsing into it with you in his lap. The wood gives a warning creak beneath you but neither of you care.

Not when his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding as he slides his tongue past the seam of your lips. The heat radiating off his body is suffocating, but you welcome it—craving the weight of him on you.

You melt against him, feeling the hard planes of his body against yours, every inch of him alive and pulsating with need. Logan’s hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging in just enough to send a rush coursing through you.

It’s intoxicating, the way he devours you, his hands exploring every inch of your back, grasping and pulling you impossibly closer. 

The hard jut of his cock presses against your thigh, a thick plane of heat that makes your pussy throb with need. You shift your hips, grinding down on him in messy circles.

“You feel that?” he growls, lips brushing against your ear. “That’s all for you, darlin’.”

“Need you,” you whimper, grinding down against him faster, desperate for the friction that sends pleasure rippling through you. “Please, Logan, I need you inside me now.”

“Hold on, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending sparks all up your spine.

He dips his head, capturing your lips again, while his hands roam hungrily down your sides, fingers curling around your thighs to urge your legs open wider. “You wanna tease me, you’re gonna have to get off just like this.”

Logan angles his hips so that his cock slips between your drenched folds the next time you roll your own down.

The hot, slick glide sends electric shocks of pleasure racing through you, your body responding instinctively to his touch. You gasp against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as you push down, desperate for more.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he growls, his voice dripping with lust as he watches your movements with hungry eyes. “Just for me, huh? She’s droolin’ just for me.”

You nod breathlessly, chasing the friction, craving the feel of him so close. You lift your hips and rock back down again, the blunt head of his cock brushing against your swollen clit, and you feel your body pulse in response. 

“More,” you plead, leaning in to nibble at his lower lip. “I need it.”

Logan pulls away, shaking his head with a wicked grin. “Come on, tough shot,” he says, giving your ass a quick smack and kneading the tender flesh in his hand roughly. “You’re gonna come like this, you can do it baby.”

You whine, dropping your chin to your chest. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into the strong muscle. Your chest slips slickly against his, the front of your tank almost entirely soaked with sweat.

Yours or his, it doesn't matter. The white cotton turned transparent enough that your breasts are on full display, nipples hard and visible.

You watch a single bead of sweat make its way down the length of his throat. It trickles down and down and down until it dips between the pronounced muscles of his chest.

You duck your head, dragging your tongue up the valley of his pecs. A deep moan bursts from your lips, pussy drooling more slick over Logan’s cock at the coarse feel of his thick hair on your tongue, at the heady taste of his sweat filling your senses.

Logan groans, hands tightening their hold on your waist. The dull ache his strength leaves behind is enough to let you know that two hand shaped bruises will be blooming over your skin by tomorrow morning. 

“Come on, girly,” he encourages, nipping at the sweaty column of your throat, the sharp points of his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin deliciously. “Fuck me, give it to me good.”

Your hips speed up, his hard cock sliding through the slick folds of your cunt faster. The tip bumps against your clit deliciously with every move, smearing pre-come along the way to add even more to the mess between your legs.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he groans, breath puffing warm and hot agasint the slick skin of your lips. “Pump you so full of my come you’ll be leakin’ for a goddamn week.”

He shifts underneath you, the tip of his cock catching on your entrance just enough for it to push inside on the next grind of your hips.

The barely there fullness has you coming with a sharp cry, nails roughly dragging down Logan’s back hard enough to leave red welts that heal as you go.

The pain mixing with the pleasure of finally getting to feel the warm, wet suction of your pussy has Logan coming with a rough shout of your name. He throws his head back, hands tightening their grip on your hips enough to have your bones grinding together as he pumps you full of his come. 

“Logan…” you mewl, your pussy fluttering over the tip of his cock, greedy little clenches like you're trying to suck him the rest of the way in. Drunk on the way his release paints your insides, how you can feel each thick spray coating your walls to claim you in the rawest way.

Logan pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and smoldering as he watches you squirm in his lap.

"You’re not tapping out on me already, are you?" he teases, his voice rough and gravelly. "I thought you were tougher than that."

A weak, breathy laugh escapes you, but it’s cut short when he applies just a little more pressure, making your thighs quiver. "Not tapping out," you manage between shallow breaths, your head falling back against the chair. "But you’re—fuck—you’re insatiable."

Logan smirks, leaning in to nip at the sensitive skin of your throat, his teeth scraping just enough to send shivers coursing through you.

"When it comes to you, baby?" he murmurs against your skin, the heat of his breath fanning over your pulse point. "Fuckin’ always."

A lazily smile takes over your lips as you tighten your core and push, the rest of Logan’s come leaking out over his fingers. Logan groans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder to try and ground himself.

His cock throbs where it sways heavily between his thighs, still hard and ready to go even after he just came. His hand slips down your body, thick fingers running through the creamy mess of come and slick to messily push it back inside you.

“Fuckin’ shit, honey,” he groans lowly, pressing his thumb to your clit. “You’re gonna kill me.” 

Before you can respond, he stands again, gently placing your trembling form back into the chair and dropping to his knees in front of you.

Your breath hitches, legs widening despite the way your pussy shakes with overstimulation, like you can’t help but spread your legs for Logan anytime he wants.

Logan smirks up at you from between your legs, his lips already ghosting over the inside of your thigh. "Look at you," he growls, voice low and filled with lust. "Still so needy."

The slick heat of his tongue runs along your folds, lapping at the mess he just made of you. You let out a sharp gasp, thighs trembling as your fingers weave into his hair, tugging him closer.

The sensation is overwhelming—the rough, demanding pace of his tongue as it swirls around your clit, teasing you, while his hands grip your thighs with bruising force. Keeping you exactly where he wants you, keeping you spread open for his tongue.

Your body arches off the chair with a loud cry, every nerve alight with raw pleasure as he feasts on you, his growls vibrating against your sensitive skin.

"Fuck! Logan," you moan breathlessly, head falling back as you try to keep up with the sensations he's pulling from you.

The heat that was pooling low in your belly reignites, stoked by the way his tongue flicks faster against your clit, each stroke sending you higher.

Logan doesn’t let up, his tongue delving deeper, drinking in every moan, every shaky gasp as he drives you closer to the edge. He moans into your pussy, his own arousal clear in the way his hips buck into the air, seeking any kind of friction.

You tug on his hair harder, desperate for more, for release. "Logan, please," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with need.

"Atta’ girl," he rasps, his voice thick with desire as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "So fuckin’ pretty like this. You gonna give me another one, baby? Gonna come for me again?"

Every lick, every rough squeeze to your thighs, every teasing stroke sends you spiraling closer to that edge you’re dying to reach again. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath hot against your soaked skin and driving you wild.

“Logan, I—” You gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, urging him closer, closer, closer. “I’m so close—”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, nose and jaw glistening in your juices.

"Give it to me," he growls, the rough rasp of his voice sending a shiver through your overheated body. "I wanna feel you come on my tongue."

It’s all the encouragement you need. With a strangled cry, your body tenses, thighs quaking as the orgasm crashes over you.

Logan keeps his mouth on you, tongue working you through every pulse, drawing it out until you’re trembling and gasping, your body boneless in the chair.

When you finally come down, panting and spent, Logan pulls away. With one last kiss pressed over your clit, he makes his way up your body, not dropping eye contact as he settles over you.

His hand comes up to your face, thumbs meanly hooking into either side of your cheeks to gently force your mouth open. You part your lips willingly, the heat still radiating between you, a mix of lingering pleasure.

Logan leans in, and the intoxicating scent of sweat and sex surrounds you as he spits what he collected from between your legs back into your own mouth. 

Your cheeks burn with shame, a broken moan ringing through the space between you. Your glassy eyes stare into Logan’s, his own gaze so intense and all consuming you fight the urge to squirm.

"Swallow," he commands, unwavering. 

You hesitate for just a moment, caught off guard by the pure audacity, but the way his eyes darken with hunger makes your resolve crumble. With a breathless whimper, you obey, tasting the remnants of your own pleasure mingling with his, the act both humiliating and intensely arousing.

Logan watches you closely, his gaze never straying as you swallow, a dirty smirk creeping onto his lips. “That's my girl,” he praises, his tone thick with satisfaction.

As the taste lingers on your tongue, you can feel the weight of Logan’s stare like a physical touch.

“Think you can handle another round?” he teases, his voice low and sultry. “I don’t plan on letting you off that easy, kid. Not with all that mouthing off earlier.”

You catch your breath, shaking your head in exasperation. “You’re relentless,” you whisper, a hint of laughter in your voice, though your body betrays you, already craving more.

“Only for you, baby” he replies, brushing the strands of hair plastered to your sweaty forehead behind your ear. “Only for you.”

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini nat's note: i started my period today chickens...that explains it...

[dark-moonlust]

Hi there, this is my first time sending an ask.

I was wondering if could you do a bear hybrid x fem reader. I really love the concept of a bear hybrid but there's not really a lot of stuff on that.

Thank you, your avid reader

Sure thing anon! I hope this is to your liking! 🖤🥂 Happy reading!

Claimed by the Bear Hybrid

Pairing: bear hybrid x f!human reader

Summary: you are strolling the woods when you meet a bear hybrid who claims you as his.

Warnings: minors don’t interact, 18++!!!, slightly non-con, oral (f!receiving), big 🍆, p in v, lots of 💦.

I've written a second part for this one and you can find it here.

“You’re mine now,” the creature rumbled, deep and commanding. 

You forgot how to breathe, your heart stuttering at the sight of the bear hybrid before you. Standing on his two back feet, the massive hybrid towered over you, making it impossible for you to escape. The creature had the build of a very big and muscled man, but his dark fur, size and strength were unmistakably bear-like. 

Not to mention that between his legs hung the most glorious cock you’d ever seen. It was as thick as your forearms and long, longer than seven inches—with the angry red head leaking moisture. Two heavy, hairy balls hung from between his thighs, throbbing visibly. An involuntary shiver traveled through you, not at all fearful. He grunted and shifted, his nose smelling the air. Then his eyes, they were completely dark, fixed on you with a hunger that brought back the fear inside you.

Oh, how foolish you had been thinking that a stroll in the woods would be harmless. You were alone with an apex predator in his own habitat, and he was about to devour you, oh the irony… the forest was dense and filled with the sounds of nature and the chirping of birds. It was such a beautiful morning, so unlike your fate.  

“Pl—please… I won’t hurt you,” you uttered, terrified out of your wits. “Let me go and—”

“Never!” he rasped powerfully. “You. Are. Mine.”

You barely had time to react before he closed in on you, his huge body dwarfing yours. He was three heads taller than you and that much heavier. A strong hand grasped you as he scooped you up, hanging you over his shoulder. Paralyzed, you shouted and writhed, but no help came as he carried you effortlessly toward his cave. 

Once inside his lair, cool air welcomed you to a bed of soft furs. His eyes never left yours as he climbed on the massive bed beside you, his hands gripping your ankles, strong enough but careful not to bruise you. You couldn’t escape. Tears flew down your cheeks as he ripped your clothes apart, his sharp claws removing every layer until you lay completely exposed before him. 

“Shhhh…” his voice was soothing. “I will not harm you, little human. You are my mate.”

“Nnn…no.” Embarrassed, you crossed your hands in front of your breasts. “This can’t be! We can’t—”

“You are mine,” he repeated stubbornly. “You tremble and leak nectar for me.”

To prove his point, he spread open your legs, exposing the soaked slit of your pussy. Your plump folds glistened with arousal, and you flushed at the sight. You’d refused to accept what your instinct was telling you, but there was no mistaking it now; the hybrid didn’t want to kill you; he wanted to fuck you. And for some strange reason that made you ever wetter, your heart beating frantically.

Your breath hitched when you felt his callused fingers brushing along your chest. You protested, but his strength was great, and he drew your arms apart, exposing your breasts to him. Big hands cradled each breast, thumbs skimming over your nipples until they turned into hard little buds. You whimpered, tears in your eyes, because each stroke felt good, awakening a mix of fear and arousal. You could feel his strength, his raw power, and it both thrilled and scared you. 

“Pretty and soft,” the hybrid muttered as he massaged your mounds and caressed your nipples. “Such roundness.”

It was at that moment that you realized you had arched your back to offer more of yourself to him. He took this chance eagerly and bent down to engulf the entirety of one tit in his mouth. The suction was warm and wet, his tongue rough and textured as it circled your nipple. Lips quivering, you shivered as he stroked and suckled, crying out softly when he alternated to the other mound. 

Strong hands moved to your hips, gripping them firmly as he lowered his head between your thighs. He inhaled your pussy, then breathed over it. You shivered all over, especially when his tongue flicked out, licking up and down your folds before delving inside. You jolted at the electric sensation, long moans escaping you as his rough tongue fucked you with primal thrusts. He ate you out, his growls vibrating against your pussy. Hands gripping the sheets, you rocked against him, hips arching toward his mouth. 

“Such a soft little cunt; it tastes so sweet, better than honey,” he murmured, tongue spearing your pussy. 

“Pl-please,” you whispered, barely able to form the words and unsure of what you were begging for. To stop? To keep going? You were so pleasure-hazed that you had no idea what to do. 

He chuckled. “You’ll get more, mate.”

Hands gripping your ass, he brought you closer to his face, spreading your folds as he continued his sweet torment. His snout caressed your clit and you bucked against him, your moans filling the cave and echoing off the walls. Your orgasm tore through you, strong and blissful, surging from your head to your toes, and despite your violent thrashing, his tongue still drove inside you, devouring every drop of your release.

Head falling back against the bed, you opened your legs obscenely, offering your pussy to him. He licked you fiercely, then your inner thighs, then up your belly and your breasts. You whined when you felt the heavy weight of something warm and leaky against your fluttering cunt. You looked down and gasped; your ankles were hooked over his broad shoulders and he was rubbing his cock against your slit, his thick girth looking inhumanly big in contrast to your small pussy.  

“I’ve waited so long for this moment,” he growled, his hands caressing your inner thighs. “You’re my mate, and I will claim you.”

“Stop— you’re too big—”

But it was too late. A soft hitch of breath left you when he pushed the cockhead inside. It parted your moist pussy lips and drove inside, inch by inch. You whimpered at the stretch, yet his fullness invaded you without discomfort, bottoming out inside you as his balls squeezed against your bum.

You’d done it. You’d taken him. Wow… 

Your thoughts faded when he started moving inside you. Holding your tiny waist in his big hairy hands, he pumped powerfully inside you, watching as his dick spread your lips, then came out covered with your juices. You gripped his arms for dear life, your nails digging into his thick skin. He liked it because he fucked you faster and deeper, each thrust driving you higher and higher. 

“Yes, only my mate can take me,” he growled, his cock making your belly bulge. “I’m going to fill you up, claim you, make you mine.”

The bed creaked from his thrusts, your tits bouncing. He licked them up, suckled them in his mouth as he pounded into you, the plap-plap of skin slapping against skin obscenely wet and lewd. Your cries mingled with his grunts of pleasure, your walls clenching and unclenching around his cock as a second orgasm overwhelmed you. He kept fucking you and followed right after with a feral roar, filling you up with buckets of his cum. He pumped for minutes, over and over, until he had marked you with his seed. 

Breathless and spent, you couldn’t help but collapse into the sheets that smelled like musk and earth. Your body still tingled from the intensity of your union, your legs weak. You couldn’t believe what had happened. You’d heard of many cases of interspecies mating, and now it had happened to you as well. This bear hybrid was your mate. Your soulmate. He’d claimed you, bathed you in his seed. And even if your bond was unusual and fresh, you felt like being truly home.

“You’re mine, all mine,” he murmured, nuzzling your neck, his breath warm against your skin. 

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄 ? ❞

❝ ALL THESE PEOPLE THINK LOVE'S FOR SHOW, BUT I WOULD DIE FOR YOU IN SECRET ! ❞

✧ pairing: suguru geto x sorcerer! reader

✧ summary: suguru's birthday spent with you is like a dream -- the perfect day spent in bliss, but what happens when the dream has to come to an end?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, jjk compliant au (reader is a sorcerer), domesticity, cuddling, oral (m +f), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), improper massage technique, some angst (discussion of star vessel / premature death arc / geto's defection),

✧ wc: 3,015

The first thing Suguru felt were fingertips brushing against his cheek.

“Morning, birthday boy,” you murmured, and his almost violet eyes fluttered still half within the grasp of the sandman, and it didn’t help you looked as if you were the thing of dreams — your body clad only in his white button down, hair askew from your late night with him, and eyes filled with utter love and devotion, “finally waking up? Because I have a whole day planned for you,” 

His lips curl despite the sleep that weighed on his eyelids, a hum leaving his lips, as his fingers find you, even with his eyes closed — just as he always could, his fingers curling around your wrist, as he expertly tugged you and wrapped his arms around you. You were caged in around his limbs, pressed to his chest with barely any space to move, you’d be scared, if wasn’t exactly where you wanted to be. 

You sigh, burying your face in his chest, lips brushing the skin of his bare chest, “Sugu, come on, we can’t laze all day, I have a nice breakfast planned, and we’re having lunch with Satoru, Shoko, and Nanami later, and I have a million other nice things planned — none of which we can do if you don’t get out of bed,” 

“But you forgot something,” it’s his turn to sigh, as he shifts his face to rest against your neck, nose nearly tickling the skin there, as his lips press butterfly kisses, dotted like constellations along your neck and collarbone — as if he find the all the universe had to offer between the space of your neck and shoulder, “my favorite thing to do is right here,” 

You roll your eyes at the innuendo, a knowing smirk on his lips, one you didn’t need to see to know it was there — it was done against your neck after all, “If I recall, we did plenty of your favorite thing last night, and it’s the reason you’re probably so tired right now,” 

His fingers begin to toy with the buttons of his shirt that you’d stolen, “Well, they say you can never have too much of a good thing, after all,” 

“Oh, is that so?” and his lips find yours again to swallow your next retort, his lips gliding against yours and he can taste the coffee you had just had, the bitter taste mixed with your sweet tongue, that flicked not so sweetly against the seam of his lips. 

“You said I could have anything I want today,” he murmurs, beginning to undo the buttons one by one, as he revealed your body to his eyes — a twitch in his boxers as he realized you wore not a single thing underneath, “well right, all I want is you, for breakfast,” 

Your cheeks burn, thighs pressed together, his words sending a rush of heat down to your still aching cunt, “Sugu—” but his lips find yours again, his fingers busy with teasing your nipples — rolling both between his pointer finger and thumb, “fuck, baby—” 

“Gotta enjoy my meal baby,” his lips burn a trail of kisses down your body, his lips curling around your tit, his teeth grazing and teasing one and then the other, drawing a whimper from your lips, as he pulls his mouth away with a pop, “it’s the most important meal, and I have to start my birthday right, don’t I?” 

And his hands drag down your sides, large calloused fingers squeezing your hips, as he lifts your legs to hook around his shoulders, his dark gaze devouring the sight of your pretty cunt glistening with your slick, before his mouth and tongue would. 

His lips warm your outer lips, as his fingers tease your puffy little clit, pinching it, “Still swollen from last night,” his lips curl as you yelp in surprise, with a glare shot his way, that rolls into the back of your head as he buries his face in your sweet pussy. His nose grinds against your clit deliciously, as his tongue collects the pre already drenching you, humming at the taste — how was it that you were truly his favorite thing he tasted? You weren’t exactly sweet down there, but you were the only dessert he wanted (he’d leave the actual sugar to Satoru), “seems like you wanted this too by the way you’re leaking down here, my shirt and sheet is even wet,” he teases, making you cover your face in embarrassment, “don’t worry, sweetheart,” he smiles up at you with his slick covered lips and dripping chin, “I’ll clean you up.” 

“You don’t have to do this for me,” Suguru says, but you only shake your head, meeting his gaze in the mirror, with a roll of your eyes. 

“I want to do this for you,” as your fingers continue to comb his dark locks, finger twirling one strand between his fingers, “plus this is more for me than you, you never let me play with your hair at Jujutsu Tech,” you pouted, and he snorts. 

“First, you said ‘play,’ not do, and second, do you forget the first and only time I let you, Shoko, and Satoru do my hair?” and you stifle a laugh, badly disguised as a cough, as you lips part to answer, “don’t lie, I know you guys use it as your group chat photo,” 

“I only wanted to put clips and a scrunchie in your hair — dying your hair was all Satoru—” and his sharp look cuts you off, as you relent, before running your fingers through his hair, and easing another knot from his locks, “well isn’t this nice though?” and he nods, after your lips graze the edge of his hairline, “we’re almost done and you can tie your hair up after,” you hum. 

“Do you like my long hair?” and he meets your curious gaze in your reflection, “I mean, i decided to grow it out after we graduated, but I was wondering if you ever thought I should cut it,” 

You purse your lips, scrutinizing him in contemplation, “I love your hair either way, but you were always so meticulous about cutting it the same length, so why did you decide to grow it out?” His eyes fall to his lap, and he swallows, “you don’t have to—” you say softly, and his fingers find yours, squeezing. 

“I want to,” he echoes, as he bites his lip, “I heard when I was a kid that hair holds memories, and ever since Amanai and Haibara…I don’t want to ever forget them,” and he toys with a strand between his fingers, “And by keeping my hair longer, it feels like I can hold onto that, onto them,” he says softly, and you nod, “I know it’s not logical—”

“Not everything has to be logical, not everything has to have a reason,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his cheek, wrapping your arms around his neck, “sometimes things can just be a thing you do — but either way, if you cut your hair or keep it long, I don’t think you’ll ever forget those two, and neither would they — ever,” and he turns to meet your lips in a slow kiss, your fingers ghosting his cheek, before you finally part, “come on, get dressed, we’re going to be late.” 

~~~~

“You told me he liked strawberry sponge and cream cake,” you punched Satoru in the shoulder, who takes it if only to appease you, with a pout, “you said that’s what he wanted this year, you blue eyed freak,” 

“It is! How was I supposed to know he’d lie to me?” 

“You know him for how many years and you can’t tell it was a lie?” 

“You’re his partner, you don’t know what cake he likes—” 

Suguru rubs his forehead, as you and Satoru continue to bicker, as he pulls a lighter out, and offers to light Shoko’s cigarette, as she leans on the windowsill of one of the open windows, “Those two never grow up do they?” and Suguru snorted, leaning against the wall next to her, facing the spectacle you and Satoru were making,  “why did you say strawberry cake?” 

“Because it’s both of their favorites,” his eyes slide to those two as Satoru used his infinity only to infuriate you, “I always had thought those two would have made a better match,” 

He feels Shoko’s eyes slide to him, “She loves you, not Satoru,” and his eyes find yours, just as they always did, and you smile the one smile he always hoped would be reserved for only him. 

“I know.” 

“Did we have to stay that long?” Suguru sighs, pulling off his jacket, “who slipped alcohol into Satoru’s plastic cup anyway?” and your pause gives it away, as he glances at you, pulling off your shoes, “sweetheart, you know he can’t handle his alcohol,” 

“Well someone should’ve handled their job right then,” and he laughs, as he walks over to wrap his arms around you, as you grumble, “you ask Mr. Six Eyes to do something — and he can’t even see through a lie, so are we really buying that he actually has them—” 

And his lips find yours again, his hands sliding down to your hips to pull you closer, “I believe you owe me a present still,” he kisses down your neck, and he feels you melt into his touch, your fingers splaying on his shoulders, “and I know exactly what I want,” 

“Well, I may have gotten you something a little different,” your lips curl. 

“A massage?” he raises an eyebrow, as you strip him down to his boxers on the bed, a few towels underneath him as you warmed the massage oil with your hands. He heard the squish and squelch of your fingers, and he felt his dick twitch, the noise sounding like something else. 

“You don’t relax enough, this way, I can help you relax a little,” you hum, as you stand beside him, “can I start?” and he bites his lip, but nods. 

“Go ahead, princess,” and you do — Suguru didn’t realize how many knots he had in his back, the muscles stiff and immovable at first, until you begin to work away at the bundles of stress he had accumulated. A moan slips from his lips as he feels the stress ebb away, a blush burning up his cheeks, “Sorry,” 

“No complaints here, baby,” you giggle. God, he was so fucking hot like this. His muscles were glistening with the oil, each muscle becoming more relaxed under your touch, the little grunts and groans that left his lips left another knot, but this one was in your cunt.

Suguru couldn’t help let these moans escape his lips, you were making him feel so good, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to move after this, his body far too limp. Or so he thought. Your hands were traveling lower and lower, until they brushed against the waistband of his boxers, and he shivers, “Sweetheart,” 

“What? You carry stress here too, and as your masseuse, I have to do a good job right?” you hum, “as long as my client permits me,” 

And he bites his lip, “I’ll permit anything from you, baby,” 

You don’t need any more words, as your fingers pull at the boxers, tugging the fabric down to reveal his ass, your fingers first ghosting over the flesh teasingly, before beginning to massage it. 

Fuck, now he was fully hard, his dick rubbing against the mattress — thank god you put down towels — as you worked out the knots in his gluteus muscle, but he didn’t know if you were helping him relax or not, because he never had felt more stiff. And it doesn’t escape your notice. 

You hum, “Maybe we need a different method,” your finger traces up and down your spine, “would my client mind turning over for me?” 

“Princess—” 

“Just one more thing to help you relax,” and he relents, turning over, to reveal the tent in his boxers, still drawn over his front, and your eyes fall to his cock, “and I see where all the stress has gone,” you tsk, as you climb onto the bed, straddling his waist, drawing a gasp from his lips, “poor baby,  all worked up still?” Your fingers traces his clothed head, a large wet patch that assuredly wasn’t massage oil, “I think I can relax you.” 

He’s biting his lip as he watches you tug down his boxers, fabric dragging against his erection as you do, slapping against his stomach, “Sweetheart—“ 

“Just let me do this for you, baby,” you murmur as you clean your hands with a rag and instead smear the beads of precum along his length, drawing a groan from his lips, “so sensitive for me, Sugu, been wanting me since morning haven’t you?” You hum, as you begin to work his cock with your hand, lips leaning down to press a kiss to his weeping tip, “it’s only fair if I get to taste you too — after all, I may have been your breakfast, but you’re my dessert,” 

And your lips wrap around his length, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue, and tasting his salty precum. He groans, the noise burning a trail to your cunt, “s’good for me,” you murmured against him, as you took as much of him as you could, taking the rest in your hands.

His fingers weave into your hair, hips lightly bucking into your mouth, the tip of his cock brushing against your throat, and you manage to suppress your gag reflex, “shit, sorry—“ but you cut off his apology by licking a thick stripe up one of his veins, before hollowing out your cheeks and sucking, “fuck, Princess, I’m close—I—“ and your fingers toy with his balls and your mouth redoubles his efforts, until he’s cumming down your throat with your name on his lips, his thick load painting your mouth and throat, as you swallow it eagerly. 

He flutter open, only to watch you pull your swollen lips from his length, strings of spit and cum still connecting you to his cock, before you wipe it away, “don’t worry baby,” you lean down to lick the beads of cum dripping from his tip, his hips jerking, “I’ll clean you up,” 

And after you get him all cleaned up, the two of you are in bed again, tucked up next to each other — Suguru was completely boneless, as you climb into bed beside him, “you okay baby?” 

He nods, smile on his lips, “More than okay after that,” he murmurs, lips finding yours, and then he pulls away with a pause, “but I didn’t get you off, baby,” and his forehead furrows as you chuckle. 

“Worry about that tomorrow, baby. I think you need some sleep now,” you crawl into his arms, your head pressed against his chest, you were so warm pressed against him, “got all I need right here,” you murmur, before you ask, “did you have a good birthday?” 

“I always do,” his fingers graze your cheek, as his eyes flutter shut, “always when I’m with you, Princess,” 

The first thing he feels, again, are soft fingers against his cheek, his eyes heavy with sleep, flutter open, as his brain catches with his body. 

“Master Geto? Master Geto?” His eyes finally flutter open to find Nanako and Mimiko at his bedside. 

He rubs at his eyes, as he stares at a ceiling for a moment, as he lets the haunting feel of your body slip from him — for a moment, he had let himself believe it was real — that you were with him, that he was still with you — all of you. 

“Happy Birthday, Master Geto,” they both intone together, and his gaze slides back to find the girls’ holding a birthday cake box. He blinks a moment, before he realizes. 

“Thank you both,” he sigh, sitting up, and even though he knows, he asks the question anyway, “it was left at the doorstep of the compound?” 

“Yes, the same one, the one that’s always left for you,” Mimiko answers as Nanako hands him the box, and he slips off the twine and opens the box to reveal a strawberry and cream sponge cake, “I didn’t know Master Geto even liked strawberry cake,” 

And he chuckles, as he stares at the cske, the residuals unbidden and clear as day who had left it — who had always left it, “I don’t but it was the favorite of two people very important to me before — you know I don’t care for sweets,” 

“I thought you didn’t care for sweets made by monkeys,” Nanako said, typing on her phone, before she snaps a picture or two of the cake, “why is this an exception?” 

“Because one of those special people baked it, and she’s a sorcerer,” and you always had — every year without fail. He didn’t even know how you had found him — he didn’t tend to stay in one place for too long, but you always did. 

As he lifts the cske out and hands it to the girls, “go slice it up and have a piece,” he smiles, “I’ll take care of the box,” and they nod, as Mimiko takes the cake while Nanako walks out staring at her phone still. 

It wasn’t the cake that he found special, but the card that was hidden at the bottom. It was nothing special — always a random card picked out with a birthday message printed on the outside — but no, what was special was the note you wrote. 

My favorite treat for my favorite birthday boy — I hope you have a good birthday — with your name signed below. 

His fingers twirled a strand of his hair, still far too long, as he traced your name with his finger. He hadn’t had a really good birthday — not without you. 

But, he opened the drawer of his bedside table, placing the card inside with the others, at least he could dream of one. 

✧ a/n: i've been hopping between my sukuna fic and prof geto 3, but i was bouncing back and forth between whether i wanted to write this or not, but i just had to for suguru - man has claimed a sweet spot. thank you to the anon who's idea i put on a spin on and @biancaness, who provided the massage idea :). this is also for @gaylatteart because their birthday is tomorrow, the day after suguru's. thank you bb for being so wonderful and congrats on doing the thing - i'm super proud of you!!

✧ taglist: @foxygemin1, @honeyangelsblog, @biancaness, @rwtard, @strangehuman101, @serendididy, @i-love-the8, @ririthedevil, @linastired, @bsaeshell, @jaceum, @going-to-californiaxx, @dontshuugo, @diogodxlot, @coffeebun17, @slikdolliy, @spider-fan72, @sophistication-as, @get0sfav, @klynne, @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @heijihattorisgf, @teatreeoilll, @el172736738, @nem0philistx, @strawmariee, @mysuperrainbow

[disgustingtwitches]

@rememberwren's Sperm donor!Johnny and Husband!Ghost has been stuck in my head for far too long. So here's a quick unedited little thing I wrote for it!

You forgot exactly what you were nervous about. Then again, you usually forget everything when your husband is between your legs.

“Gotta warm you up properly.”

He said earlier to Johnny and you, his large hand rubbing your thigh just a touch too high and making your face hot. 

You're not sure how much “warming up” you needed; he's been at it for God knows how long, and you're dizzy and pretty sure you can't feel your toes anymore. He can be so mean sometimes when he's like this, biting your thighs when you try to push his head away, smiling at how you whimper.

“You know, I'm starting to think you like it when I do that.”

As overstimulated as you are, you whine when he pulls away. You swear you can see the hearts in his eyes when he looks down at you. Gets you right in the heart. 

When he rolls out of bed and walks to the door you suddenly remember why your stomach was in knots earlier; you're about to sleep with his subordinate. No, that's not the right word. Brother in arms? Best friend? Their relationship always seemed more complex than words could describe. There's a soft knock on the door and you look up to see your husband walk in with Johnny in tow. 

Johnny's knees nearly give in at the sight of your body tangled up in the sheets, breathing hard, and skin glistening.

“Prettiest thing I've ever seen.” 

He smiles while unbuckling his pants. Simon hums in agreement and sits next to you, running his fingers up your arm and neck to caress your face. The look in his eyes could melt you right then and there, grounding and reassuring. Everything is going to be alright; it always has been and always will be.

Your eyes shoot back to Johnny, who's crawling over you slowly. You bite back a groan when Simon coos a good girl as you open your legs more, inviting Johnny to settle between them. The difference between your husband's face and the man hovering over you is night and day; Simon all soft and enamored, Johnny all fervid and lustful. 

“Ye ready?” 

Johnny's voice is almost as shaky as his hands, not nervous but almost deliriously aroused. You never had wandering eyes; it seems like it's wrong to even look at him now, but you don't want this to feel unnatural; you want to enjoy this. So you scan his body, toned chest falling and rising fast, strong arms caging you in, blue eyes so intense you have to look away.

“Uh-huh.”

You reply quietly, bucking your hips against his, your most sensitive parts rubbing against his. The gasp you share makes you both chuckle, easing the tension. You run your hands up his arms and wrap them around his neck. When you pull him closer, he follows eagerly, burying his face against the crook of your neck, stubble tickling you. 

“Dinnae have to do this if you don't want to, hen.” 

“No, I want to.” 

Your voice, smaller than you want it to be, makes Johnny's eyes soften. You look over to Simon, he cocks his head to the side, raising an eyebrow slightly, checking in. You just nod and he nods back. You keep your eyes on Simon while addressing Johnny,

“Ready.”

There's a pause, a shift, and then. You groan and roll your eyes back when he slides in, still facing Simon who blinks fast. Johnny breathes like the air was knocked out of him,

“Jesus…fuck…”

He curses to himself, face still buried at your neck, slowly moving his hips forward until his pelvis meets yours. You whine as he nips your neck and yelp when he punches his hips forward from the sounds you make. Your husband leans over and palms the back of his neck, talking in a low, serious tone that makes you tighten up, 

“Johnny.”

“Yeah, LT?”

“Ease up.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Johnny places a soft kiss where he bit you. It's all so…overwhelmingly intimate. Another man on top of you, grinding at just the right angle, hitting the right spots, all while your husband watches, instructing him. Simon pulls his hand away from Johnny's neck and shifts on the bed, sitting right next to you. Your eyes go wide when you turn to see him palming his erection. Oh. This is okay. This situation is more than okay. Simon fucking loves this. Johnny too. Guess you should throw away any reservations or doubts you had and just embrace this moment. Enjoy it to the fullest. 

Johnny pulls back, face slightly flushed, panting softly,

“She's so wet, Simon. Just so soft and perfect. Prettiest thing I ever saw...” 

You soak in the compliments but tune him out eventually, your attention drifting down to where Johnny slides in and out of you. It's a dreamy sight, really; you look so good together, it kind of reminds you how wonderful you and Simon look together. 

“Looks real nice, doesn't it? Taking me so well, hen.”

Johnny presses his forehead against yours, looking down while you hum in agreement. It's quiet for a moment, save for the occasional pant and moan or slick sounds from between your legs. A rough hand holds your left and another, larger hand grabs your right. It's all so sweaty, so sticky and sweet. So dazed, you barely register the first kiss Johnny plants on your lips. The second one makes your eyes shoot open, staring right at his annoyingly long, brown lashes until he pulls back and opens his eyes, blindingly blue. Your face gets hot, and you pull your hand to your face, your husband's fingers still intertwined with them. He extends his pointer finger to caress your cheek and you turn your face to look up at him. He's so gentle right now like he knows that's what you need from him. 

A smile plays on his face when you open your mouth and slide his finger into your mouth, sucking softly, rolling your eyes back, and moaning softly. You love giving him a show. Love making him melt in your mouth. He nods over to Johnny, whose jaw is slack, breathing hard. When you look at him, it's quite the sight: blue eyes wide and wild, mouth hanging open, and you can see his pulse right underneath his jawline beating wildly. Just fucking delectable. You pull your face away from Simon's hand and smile up at Johnny who groans and chuckles,

“Christ, LT.”

“Focus, Johnny. Ain't done yet.”

There's something feral that flashes in Johnny's eyes, hungry. Eager to please. You or Simon, you're not too sure. But he hooks an arm under your knees and hikes your leg up as far as it'll go, digging into you until you're a whimpering mess under him. His whole body pressed up against you, pinning you down. His mouth pressed right up against your ear, replacing every thought you had with his voice. 

“Right there? Huh? God, tight cunt right here…C'mon... Tell me how good it is…Tell me.”

He repeats the last phrase until you're mindlessly praising him, telling him what he wants to hear. What he needs to hear. You can feel him smile against the skin right under your ear before pressing tender kisses there. 

You're pressed chest to sweaty, hairy chest when you wrap your arms around him tighter, embracing him. All traces of guilt scraped away with Simon's breathy praise. You move one hand around until it rests on your husband's big thigh, and he tenses up under your touch. 

“C'mon love, give Johnny something real nice. He's been such a trooper, yeah?” 

You nod into Johnny's shoulder, breathless. 

“Uh-huh,”

It hits you hard and fast. Almost unexpectedly. Hearing a small moan escape Simon always sent you over the edge, though, always a rare moment when he lets himself relax and be vulnerable. 

Spasming and moaning under Johnny had his hips moving frantically, desperate for his own release. Biting his shoulder had him crashing right into it, digging deep into you until his hips still. He crushed you under his weight, licking the sweat off your neck. Simon pushed his head away though. 

“Don't forget, she's my wife Johnny.

His voice isn't harsh, it's almost soft. His large frame leans down and presses a tender kiss against your lips. Then another. And another. All while singing velvety praises between each one. For a moment, you forget about the other man in the room lying right on top of you. Until he pulls away, sliding out of you. Almost makes you whine til he starts pressing his lips against your sternum and stomach. Head in the clouds, you feel like you're floating. Suspended in this moment of pure bliss. 

“You got one more in you?”

Simon asks. Before you can answer, Johnny responds eagerly. 

“Always.”

[echstacy00]

watermelon sugar; CHARLIE MAYHEW

"fuck," the curse tumbled from your lips on a sob the word seeming to back right back off the walls of the house of prayer you found yourself in, back arching from your arched position in the wooden chair as you tried to push at charlie's head, palm pressing into his forehead. his strong arms were wrapped around your thighs, one hand against your lower tummy- pressing down in order to hold you back down and it was driving you insane. you couldn't move away from his mouth, from the constant pressure he was applying to your already oversensitive clit. "char- father, please, s'too much."

you'd lost count of how many times he'd made you cum, how long he'd been buried between your thighs, mentally cursing yourself for not questioning his mention of a penance earlier. the church hallways completely silent and peaceful. it was a good thing it was practically in the middle of the night because the sounds- the sinful sounds charlie had been pulling from you definitely shouldn't fall on others ears. it felt like it had been hours since he'd pressed you back into the lounger and settled between your legs, mid-length modest-like skirt discarded elsewhere onto the floor, his tongue finding home on his favourite spot. when charlie went down on you, he often forgot to come back up. convincing you this was a way to rejuvenate and purify you’re innocence, it was ironic since you knew good and well it was the opposite.

he got lost in the way you tasted, in the noises he could get you to make, in the way your legs shook around his head and your back arched off whichever surface he'd set you on. he was obsessed with how sweet you were and how just a few teasing flicks of his tongue could have you dripping down his chin, obsessed with the way your head dropped back giving him more exposure to your neck, your view being met directly with the sliver crucifix hanging from the wall, something so sick he seemed to enjoy. he was even more obsessed with the quiet whine that always slipped from your lips on the first press of his tongue into your leaking hole. it drove him crazy to hear the soft gasp of his name when his nose bumped your clit and he just had to hear it again. and again.

"father-," that was the gasp, the soft hiccup and hitch of your breath as you shook your head, gripped the edge of the wooden seat so tight you were afraid the side might pierce your skin. from between your thighs dark eyes met yours, tongue flat to lick up the entire length of you before he sucked your clit between soft lips. your entire body shook, still so sensitive from coming only seconds before and being allowed no time to recover. "it- it hurts."

charlie made a sound low in the back of his throat, tongue soft over your clit as he tried to work you up again. his eyes were a little glazed over, slightly unfocused with lust and you knew he'd gone into that headspace. the one that meant he wasn't going to let up on eating you out until you uttered that one meaningful word. he kissed at your clit before dipping his tongue into you, pressing it so deep your mind went foggy.

"you're okay, sweetheart, just gimme one more. for me,, yeah? one more f’me" he reassured, you whimpered at his words, felt your pussy gush and spasm at how hot he looked like this. he was so fucked out, barely registering anything around him besides getting you to cum again, getting to taste even more of you than before. when he shifted his chin glistened with your release, lips wet and sticky and it made your tummy tighten, hips wiggling beneath his large palms.

"but-"

"shh, one more i promise my dear." charlie pressed you a little harder into the lounger, dipped his head again and kissed around your pussy, nuzzled into you until you were whining at how messy he was being how dirty. your clit throbbed when he teased over it, pussy over sensitive and just bordering on sore, hole fluttering around nothing because he was yet to press his fingers or cock into you. he'd made you cum countless times with his tongue alone, something you knew he'd pride himself on when he finally pulled himself out of this state if it wasn’t a sin.

"y'said that after the last one."

"m'sorry, baby, just taste so good. one more, please, just one." charlie was begging, actually begging, his voice whinier than normal and you'd be lying if you said it didn't have you gushing a little more. he pressed your thighs a little further open to give him more access and kissed the supple skin the sting pained you in the best way, nipped hard enough to leave behind marks before going back to your pussy.

"you can give me one more, yeah?"

you were nodding before you could even register his words, head falling back once more as charlie gazed a little unseeing at the space between your thighs. he used his thumbs to spread you open a little more, kissed your clit just once before pulling his head back again. there was a few seconds of silence, of anticipating what he was going to do next and your breath caught in your throat when you felt his spit drip from your clit down your pussy, making a mess of you and the lounger beneath you.

charlie's mouth was back on you immediately, licking and sucking, being overly messy and noisy as he groaned into your swollen flesh. your legs started to shake almost straight away, the knot in your tummy tightening when he focused all his attention on your clit. you gripped at his head to keep you grounded as moans and cries slipped from your lips, tears gathering in your eyes at the constant overstimulation.

he got lost again in your taste and your voice. he let his eyes close, moaned around your clit as he sucked it back between his lips and in the back of your head you knew it wouldn't be only one more.

 genesisxc 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[ghoularaki]

cw: zayne being a service dom, size kink, fingering, bondage. MDNI

zayne honestly loves how much of a brat you are.

if he was a little less reserved he could say he was proud it. most of it is his doing by letting you get away with your princess-like attitude and continuously spoiling you.

he loves how you huff and stomp like a bunny when you don't get your way. but what he loves the most is how you cling to him and beg him to indulge you. depending on his mood, he will give in. though, when he's stern with you and you back down with wide eyes, obviously embarrassed, that's his favorite part.

no matter how much you like to pretend you are in charge, one little firm glance and you are instantly flustered. it always pulls an amused simper onto his face before he goes back to his typical stoic expression.

he can't help but bribe you with little treats whether it be candy, stuffed animals or himself when he wants you to listen. it always works like a charm. but on the days you want more he still obliges since you don't listen with harsh punishments, if anything you crave them. it's like allowing a child to eat as much candy as they want for them to finally learn too much of a good thing can be bad.

you look so pretty like this: under him and mewling like a kitten. it had been another day of you avoiding a checkup meaning he had to seek you out. at least this time you had the decency to sound guilty. telling him you forgot despite he had put a reminder on your phone for you.

so he offered to take you home, well more so his home, but you had no qualms. or you didn't.

now you laid on his bed, hands bound together by his tie, laid on your chest. your legs just as restrained, tied together with baby blue rope so your calf stayed to your thigh, and thigh to your chest on both sides. you were perfectly spread out for him, unable to squirm.

leaning over your form to establish just how much bigger he was than you, zayne's focus never strayed from your face. mouth parted and eyes hazy, you were thoroughly fucked out. he hummed in satisfaction. gently his fingers dragged in and out of your pussy, teasing.

"you're so pretty for me," his deep, soothing voice lulled into your ear.

a small moan broke out. tingles spread all across your body. he's been at this for what seemed to be hours. going at that pace that's enough to keep you at the edge, but never bring you over. it's maddening.

"zayne, i said i was sorry!" you cried out, wanting him to go more than a leisure pace.

"that you did."

his fingers pop out of your glistening hole to drag up to your puffy clit. from how your legs were forcibly spread, it was on perfect display. the swollen nub ready for zayne to play with at his discretion. your back arched as he swirled and flicked your clit.

"i'm sorry, please, please! i'll be good, i promise. i'll listen to you forever and ever, please," you babbled on.

zayne chuckled, amused at you being reduced to such a pliant thing. "i'll stop torturing you, now."

tears burst from your eyes as zayne kept his rhythm. moaning and whining, you snuggled closer to him as he bent further down to kiss away the tears. as you toes curled, zayne plugged his fingers back in and his thumb swirled your clit. petting the spongy spot deep inside you, you came with more babbles flowing from your tongue.

as you came down, he softly thrusted his fingers in and out, not wanting to drag your orgasm out as long as possible. when you sagged against the sheets, sweat on your forehead, you expect him to finally depart from you. but his fingers stayed inside, going back to tickling your g-spot.

"w-wait," you whimpered, still sensitive.

"you didn't think i was done, did you? there's still plenty you need to learn."

[judeswhore]

watermelon sugar; jude bellingham

summary: jude just can’t get enough of you

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, minors dni, oral (f), pussy drunk jude??

notes: you can find my masterlist here.

"fuck," the curse tumbled from your lips on a sob, back arching from the lounger as you tried to push at jude's head, palm pressing into his forehead. his arms were wrapped around your thighs, one hand against your lower tummy in order to hold you back down and it was driving you insane. you couldn't move away from his mouth, from the constant pressure he was applying to your already oversensitive clit. "baby, please, s'too much."

you'd lost count of how many times he'd made you cum, how long he'd been buried between your thighs, the yacht bobbing peacefully on the blue water. it was a good thing you were practically in the middle of nowhere because the sounds your boyfriend had been pulling from you definitely shouldn't fall on others ears. it felt like it had been hours since he'd pressed you back into the lounger and settled between your legs, bikini bottoms discarded somewhere, his tongue finding home on his favourite spot. when jude went down on you, he often forgot to come back up.

he got lost in the way you tasted, in the noises he could get you to make, in the way your legs shook around his head and your back arched off whichever surface he’d set you on. he was obsessed with how sweet you were and how just a few teasing flicks of his tongue could have you dripping down his chin. he was even more obsessed with the quiet whine that always slipped from your lips on the first press of his tongue into your leaking hole. it drove him crazy to hear the soft gasp of his name when his nose bumped your clit and he just had to hear it again. and again.

“jude,” that was the gasp, the soft hiccup and hitch of your breath as you shook your head, gripped the edge of the boat so tight you were afraid the side might pierce your skin. from between your thighs dark eyes met yours, tongue flat to lick up the entire length of your pussy before he sucked your clit between soft lips. your entire body shook, still so sensitive from coming only seconds before and being allowed no time to recover. “it- it hurts.”

jude made a sound low in the back of his throat, tongue soft over your clit as he tried to work you up again. his eyes were a little glazed over, slightly unfocused with lust and you knew he’d gone into that headspace. the one that meant he wasn’t going to let up on eating you out until you uttered that one meaningful word. he kissed at your clit before dipping his tongue into you, pressing it so deep your mind went foggy.

“you’re okay, sweetheart, just gimme one more.” you whimpered at his words, felt your pussy gush and spasm at how hot he looked like this. he was so fucked out, barely registering anything around him besides getting you to cum again, getting to taste even more of you than before. when he shifted his chin glistened with your release, lips wet and sticky and it made your tummy tighten, hips wiggling beneath his large palms.

“but-“

“shh, one more i promise.” jude pressed you a little harder into the lounger, dipped his head again and kissed around your pussy, nuzzled into you until you were whining at how messy he was being. your clit throbbed when he teased over it, pussy over sensitive and just bordering on sore, hole fluttering around nothing because he was yet to press his fingers or cock into you. he’d made you cum countless times with his tongue alone, something you knew he’d pride himself on when he finally pulled himself out of this state.

“y’said that after the last one.”

“m’sorry, baby, just taste so good. one more, please, just one.” jude was begging, actually begging, his voice whinier than normal and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t have your pussy gushing a little more. he pressed your thighs a little further open to give him more access and kissed the supple skin, nipped hard enough to leave behind marks before going back to your pussy. “you can give me one more, yeah?”

you were nodding before you could even register his words, head falling back onto the pillow as jude gazed a little unseeing at the space between your thighs. he used his thumbs to spread you open a little more, kissed your clit just once before pulling his head back again. there was a few seconds of silence, of anticipating what he was going to do next and your breath caught in your throat when you felt his spit drip from your clit down your pussy, making a mess of you and the lounger beneath you.

jude’s mouth was back on you immediately, licking and sucking, being overly messy and noisy as he groaned into your swollen flesh. your legs started to shake almost straight away, the knot in your tummy tightening when he focused all his attention on your clit. you gripped at his head to keep you grounded as moans and cries slipped from your lips, tears gathering in your eyes at the constant overstimulation.

jude was grinding down against the lounger, pressing his cock repeatedly into the soft cushion to find relief as he got lost again in your taste and your voice. he let his eyes close, moaned around your clit as he sucked it back between his lips and in the back of your head you knew it wouldn’t be only one more.

it was never only one more with him.

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢BUBBLE GUM kang haerin x reader

↳ warnings yn is a member of new jeans, fluff, haerin being confused with her emotions, soon to be girlfriends, black cat and golden retriever

with all the windows open in the house letting the natural light shine, the air hung heavy with humidity, wrapping around every surface like a blanket, yn reclined upside down on the worn out couch, her body glistening with sweat, the sticky warmth clinging to her skin like a second layer.

she wore a delicate tank top adorned with whimsical flowers and trimmed with intricate lace, it was paired with loose cloth shorts draped comfortably over her legs, offering minimal spare from the relentless heat.

with each exhale, she blew a bubble of pink bubblegum, you’d think she’d grow tired of blowing bubble gum since the group has got here to film the music video but boredom got to her this was the only thing she could think of doing as a distraction from the fact that they had no service.

she gazed upwards, she basked in the gentle caress of the fan's oscillating breeze, making eye contact with the cat like girl who sat across from her with a fan in her hand.

haerin immediately broke eye contact and shifted uncomfortably fanning herself faster,she reluctantly acknowledged to herself that she had been fixating on yn for longer than she cared to admit. despite her best efforts to ignore it, she couldn't deny yn’s undeniable beauty,even when they’re tired from filming over these past couple of days in an unexpected heat wave.

it wasn’t that she hated yn, she just wasn’t a big fan of the girl like everyone else is, yn was a late addition, she was added to lineup for the group only a month before they had to start recording and filming, so haerin never got the chance to get close to the girl.

well, she just didn’t allow herself, all the other girls immediately made it their job to get to know yn, so they can all feel like a family, there was something about yn that always threw her off, she could never pin point what emotion she was feeling so she just declared it being dislike for the annoyingly pretty girl.

and unfortunately to haerin’s luck, the rest of the girls went to go see the water and left the two alone for the day and to be honest it was pretty awkward, yn and haerin are barely left alone and when they are most of the time both girls just stay in their rooms, so this was new.

“it’s so hot.” yn whined as she fixed her self from her upside down position and got up from couch making her way to kitchen, the same kitchen that they filmed in yesterday, she grabbed two bottles of juice and made her way back to where her and haerin were lofting.

“here” she said softly passing the cold drink to haerin who looked up at her from her seat and gently took the bottle from her hand their hands touching for a split second, “thank you.”

“no problem.” they sat in silence they drank their drinks, desperately trying to cool down, haerin was waiting for yn to say something since the girl was always to talkative

“I’m bored.” yn said out loud, haerin only gave the talkative girl a nod in agreement, taking another sip from her drink.

haerin flinches when she hears a loud gasp from yn who darted over to the nearby table, her movements quick and purposeful as she retrieved a box and settled herself on the floor. a sense of confusion filled haerin as she observed yn patting the empty space in front of her, a silent invitation that hung heavy in the air.

reluctantly, haerin rose from her seat, her footsteps hesitant as she approached yn. sitting opposite of yn on the floor, she regarded the box with curiosity, unsure of what to expect. yn’s infectious enthusiasm filled the rooms, her eyes sparkling with childlike excitement as she eagerly explained her idea.

“let’s make bracelets!” yn exclaims flashing a cute smile to haerin who gives the girl a puzzled look, her smile was radiant, a stark contrast to haerin’s lingering skepticism. "I forgot Hyein packed this," she continued, gesturing towards the box with a flick of her wrist. "since there's nothing to do, let's make some."

haerin’s initial puzzlement melted away, replaced by a flicker of reluctant amusement as she observed yn’s unwavering enthusiasm. with a sigh, she opened the box, her fingers sifting through the assortment of strings, beads and cute charms yn’s grin widened at haerin’s reluctant participation, a silent victory in her quest to break through the barriers of their strained acquaintance.

“so, filming has been fun right?” yn says as they make their bracelets, if there was one thing about the girl it’s the she could never not not start a conversation, she loved to talk, she loved to break shells of other people and ever since she met kang haerin that has been her ultimate mission to win the girls heart over.

haerin nodded as she focused on the bracelet, “yeah.” she says quietly, as time went on she listens to yn’s rambles about the filming for the music video over the past couple of days, transition to the girl raving about her favourite character in a new show that she started watching and the girl can’t help but feel at ease at yn’s presence and talkative ways.

it was sweet.

haerin laughed quietly at yn who started a rant about the character that was mean to her favourite character, “I don’t mean to be mean, but I wouldn’t be sad if they kill him off.” yn says guilty causing haerin to shake her head in amusement as she adds the finishing clip to her bracelet.

“oh my gosh.” yn gasps looking at the bracelet, “that’s so pretty.” she says reaching over to admire the bracelet that had a flower charm hanging from it.

“I like yours as well.” haerin responds her cheeks heating up slightly as she admires the bracelet yn made with a star charm hanging from it.

a sense of confidence powers over her and she grabs yn’s wrist and clips the bracelet she made on the girls wrist resulting in yn gasping and giving haerin the biggest smile known to man.

yn then grabbed haerin’s wrist and does the same clipping on the bracelet she made to the girls wrist, “now we’re matching.” she says happily.

as haerin’s hesitant fingers grazed over the vibrant array of strings and beads, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, mirroring the infectious enthusiasm radiating from yn. caught off guard by the unexpected warmth of the moment, she couldn't suppress the soft giggle that bubbled up from within her, caused yn to giggle as well.

their gazes lingered, curiosity and vulnerability meeting in a silent exchange of understanding. for a moment, the walls that had stood between them crumbled, replaced by an unspoken connection of their shared laughter.

the sound of the door opening cuts off their soft moment the sounds of the other girl’s voices filling the house.

“we’re back!”

yn gets up from the floor and stretches her hand out to haerin who looks at it before softly placing her hand in yn’s, they smile at each other when yn pulls her up but watch shocks her is that yn doesn’t let go of her hand.

instead the girl interlocks their fingers and drags the girl along with her towards the door way.

“did you guys bring food?!”

“yn we’re in the middle nowhere, what food are we going to bring?”

[monzamash]

itch — charles leclerc

charles leclerc x you (femreader) | 2.9k summary – spotting charles' weight session in your home gym. that's it. warnings – 18+ (sex, course language) a//n – had to re-upload because the tags glitched out but here's the second fic in the #monzamash special x

The soft, distant thrum of music playing was the only sound travelling through your otherwise peaceful home. You had set yourself up for a quiet afternoon with a glass of iced tea, catching up on work that you’d missed while travelling to a couple of races, watching your boyfriend do his thing. Charles always gave you the VIP treatment, making sure your time away from your life was worth it and of course it was. But nothing could beat the summer break at home in Monaco, with him by your side for a change.

Just as you settled into the couch, an almost finished lemon popsicle in hand and your laptop steadied on your lap, you heard your name being called from the other end of the house. The voice echoing through the hallway belonged to Charles and there was a part of you that wanted to pretend like you hadn't heard him, feeling way too comfy and in the zone to get up again if it wasn’t important.

That was until you heard your name again, a little louder this time and you knew that you couldn’t ignore him. Your man was persistent and even though you loved your time with him during the break and over the off-season, it did become apparent that when he was home, he always wanted you close by to talk to. Like he was trying to make up for lost time but he forgot that even though he had time off, your work life continued much to your dismay.

But you were both working on finding the right balance.

"Where are you?" You shouted back and pulled yourself out of your spot on the couch, on a mission to track down your needy but ridiculously cute boyfriend.

You followed the music, figuring that he must’ve been in the home gym he’d set up a couple of winters ago. The new Coldplay album was playing on the sound system, echoing off the mirrors that lined the otherwise blank walls. It was a messy sight as you walked in – yoga mats that you’d left behind sprawled out on the ground while Charles sat hunched over, scrolling on his phone with his legs hanging over each side of the bench press that was sitting in the middle of the naturally lit room.

He was quick to notice your presence in the door way and chucked his phone onto one of the many towels neatly folded up on the shelf behind him, "Could you spot me, please? Because I nearly killed myself with this weight."

You swear you were listening but you couldn’t help but take a second to drink in his appearance, suddenly feeling a hot flush wash over your chest. He was sans shirt and glistening with sweat, which would’ve been enough to fuel your desires but the tight short shorts and the hair sticking to his forehead was what really got the endorphins running. And as much as you could’ve stared at him for the rest of your days, the last thing you wanted was for Charles to notice how flustered you were by his appearance.

"If that thing is going to fall on your face, there's no way my twig arms are going to stop it," You scoffed, eyeing at the weights behind his head with concern.

"You just have to push it off me so it doesn't crush my chest," He shrugged with a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, far too nonchalantly for your liking.

"Oh right – just casually save my boyfriend from being crushed to death. Cool…" You sarcastically retorted while Charles wiped his hands on his shorts and scooted underneath the bar, back squeaking as it stuck to the faux leather.

"Just come and stand behind my head, baby," He sweetly directed and you sighed softly, knowing that he was going to keep lifting the stupid thing anyway and you would much rather be there if anything did happen.

So you shuffled around to where he’d settled himself on the bench, feet and shoulders with the part, ready to save the day if you needed to. Well, kind of ready because the view from where you were standing was not only magnificent but wildly distracting.

“Atta girl.”

Charles’ strong hands gripped the bar and lifted it carefully off the stand, flickering his eyes to each side and making sure they were securely off before bringing it down towards his tensed chest. The grunts that left his throat as the muscles and veins in his arms bulged under his taut skin sounded exactly like the noises he was breathing in your ear last night as he fucked you into the next dimension, the sound immediately transporting you back to the way his hands felt on your supple skin.

His tight chest puffed out in time with his sharp hips that bucked off the bench with each rep and the groans leaving his lips were making it difficult to keep an eye on the job, even though a part of you wondered whether this was all a ploy to get you in here and see this glorified soft core in session. Knowing Charles, it was almost definitely the latter.

"Okay two more," He huffed out, lifting the bar up and down a couple more times, concentration stitched into his sticky forehead.

The grunts got louder the closer he was to finishing the set, again casting your mind back to your night between the sheets, before he slowly pushed it up towards the stand and let your fingers hook around the bar, just in case it slipped out of his slick hands. Because every part of his body was perspiring – his biceps, thighs, neck, chest, the bridge of his nose that was achingly close to your core was glistening and so were you, from doing absolutely nothing. Dripping.

Charles sat up with a groan and took a couple of deep breaths, blood pumping through his veins as you watched the muscles on his rippling back contract, “You’re soaked – let me grab you a towel.”

This was your chance to try and shake the daze you were in. It was pathetic the way he wound you up without even knowing, hypnotising you with something as innocent as a workout. Maybe it was because you had been blissfully enjoying each other’s touch the second he dropped his luggage in the doorway, jumping into bed and hardly leaving it ever since.

Or because he was the sexiest creature you’d ever seen and seeing him gleaming with sweat and groaning like an animal was a massive turn on for you. Either way you were soaking after his performance, desperate to have those sounds breathing down your neck as soon as humanely possible.

He graciously took the towel you were offering with a wicked smile, wiping his flushed face and roughly drying his hair before spinning around 90 degrees on the bench, gazing up at you with the same smile but now with that devious sparkle in his eye that always had you hook, line and sinker.

"Merci."

It rolled off his tongue too perfectly and you couldn’t control the eye roll, knowing how much he loved teasing you in French. He also loved how quickly he could get you naked when he spoke in his native tongue, the mischievous smirk and his Monegasque charm leaving you spellbound. 

"Any time," You sang in reply, attempting to leave the room before you combusted on sight but you were stopped by a fistful of fingers grasping the hem of your black cotton shorts.

Charles gently pulled you back, a hole already burnt into the material from his eyes zeroing in on your curves. He loved every inch of you, worshipped the air you breathed and pinched himself daily that you’d stuck around with his crazy stupid schedule and maniacal whims. God, he adored you and ached at how effortlessly beautiful you looked in your matching crop top and shorts, waltzing around the home you had built together.

And he couldn’t hide the way he felt when you looked around, bottom lip clamped loosely between his front teeth, chewing the inside of his cheek and admiring how fucking lucky he was to have such a beautiful creature in his grasp. Heaven sent.

"You look very cute today."

He was smitten; holding your hips in place as you slung your arms around his shoulders. His hands subconsciously trailed down to the back of your thighs and teased the thin hem on your shorts, fingertips melting into the skin like butter as he watched your gorgeously bright eyes narrow.

"I'm not wearing a bra just for you," You flirted, nudging closer to his chest and needing more than just the heat from his hands on your skin.

"I can see that," He hummed matter-of-factly as he gazed over the sheer top that had been driving him crazy all day, adoring the way your nipples hardened at his stare before pressing a peck to the bottom of your sternum.

Charles continued trailing soft kisses across your stomach as you brought your hands to his tousled brown hair, trawling your fingertips through the damp locks and massaging his scalp. A soft, barely audible whimper slipped from his lips as he tilted his head back and caught your eyes, succumbing to the drowsiness and closing them for a quiet moment.

"That feels so nice." 

He practically whispered before opening his eyes and pulling you closer with his hands that were now hidden under your loose top, fingertips following the arch of your spine as you leaned down and captured his soft lips. He tasted salty, tongue deliciously warm as you explored his mouth with your own. You loved the way he inhaled you and swallowed the moans he was causing. The intimacy you shared with him never seized to make you weak in the knees, putty in his hands.

"I wanna watch you fuck me in this mirror." 

Your words were muttered against his pursed lips and Charles’ eyes were wider than a flying saucer when you pulled back ever so slightly, noses bumping together from how close you still were. He huffed out a soft laugh as you nodded towards the mirrors lining the walls around you both, eyeing your reflection beside him.

"Really?" He asked incredulously, a humorous expression ascending onto his blushing cheeks as you returned the raised brow, confused by his question.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" You scoffed, the deadpan look never faltering from your face and causing his goofy smile to fall; finally realising you were being serious.

"Well... no you don't but... Do you want me to do you against the mirror or on here?" Charles asked frowning down at the bench before bouncing up and down on it to make sure it was sturdy enough for your spontaneous demand.

"I don't really care," You almost moaned, smoothing your hands across his strong chest and over his tense shoulders, leaning down and pressing your lips to his damp neck again.

"I don't wanna risk breaking this because it was the last one at the shop so I guess we could do it against the mirrors…”

The hesitation in his voice caused your brows to furrow in disappointment and your hands to drop from his shoulders as you stood up straight, looking down at your boyfriend with a frown.

"Jeez, don't get too excited about it."

The sarcasm was dripping from your tone as Charles shook his head fervently, quickly reaching out to pull you back. All he could think about daily was making love to you in different places in the house and shockingly, the home gym hadn’t been ticked off the list but god, did he want to. He was already twitching thinking about it, the tightness of his shorts already cutting off circulation to his legs.

"No, no. Baby, look at you – I am so excited but you caught me off guard and I was just trying to think… what’s the word? Logically… Logistically…”

"It’s logistically but honey – you called me in here and made me watch you gyrating and make sex noises, and then you told me I look cute and now you're caught off guard that I want to have sex with you?... Are you okay?" You joked, pressing the back of your hand against Charles’ sticky forehead, pretending to check if he had a temperature or if he even had a pulse at all.

He laughed, borderline giggled and shook his head, "Well, when you say it like that, it makes sense. I just didn't think you'd get turned on over that."

You couldn't help but laugh in his face at his assumption, "You're shirtless and sweaty and wearing shorts that are so tight that I can see your dick... There's no way you didn't think this would get me going."

You wagged your finger up and down his body and Charles simply shrugged, hardening by the second, "It didn't even cross my mind but if it's getting your going then let's fucking go!"

Charles slapped his hands down on his lap and immediately reached for the drawstring on your shorts. “These are definitely coming off…” He murmured, eyes narrowed in concentration as he slid them down your legs.

"I promise if we break the bench, I will personally call every single shop in Monaco and replace it.”

You stepped out of the cotton material around your ankles, grasping Charles’ shoulders for balance as he tugged on his own shorts; finally liberating himself of the constriction caused by his own unadulterated arousal. He had no control when it came to you.

"Jeez, you are horny," Charles teased as you climbed on top of him; his tactile hands guiding your knees to each side of his thighs with a devilish grin.

He was in his element with you on top of him; he had the perfect view of his girl and he could feel how ready you were for him when you rested on his thigh, your slickness cool against his soft skin. He loved how dialled in you were to his touch, every little wince or mumble making his heart pound harder in his chest – blood rushing to his dick every time you whispered in his ear.

But he knew that you knew how much he craved having you like this so of course he teased you in spirited retaliation, like any man desperately in love does to the one he adores the most.

“You know that if you ever need to get some inspiration, you can always come in and watch me work out, baby. You like it a lot, huh?”

"I do and I intend to enjoy this so shut up."

Now he was really hard, worked up beyond his limits.

As a distraction from his edge, he went back to what he did best – kissing you. You were both as pent up as each other, embarrassingly desperate for two people who had been going at it hammer and tong all weekend but you couldn’t get enough. It wasn’t until the firm grip on your hips tightened even more that you finally felt how enthusiastic he was about fucking you in his gym.

"You taste like lemons," Charles mumbled as your tongues collided.

You couldn’t mask the smirk on your lips as he kissed you again, reaching down and massaging him over his boxer briefs. You pulled away slightly from the kiss, ghosting his swollen lips as you softly stroked him in your hand.

"I bet if you'd seen me eating that popsicle, you would've felt the same way as I did watching you lift those stupid weights," and Charles chuckled at your annoyingly accurate theory, his warm breath fanning over my face before seizing your lips again, wiping that smirk on your sweet lips.

"I probably wouldn’t have lasted, let's be absolutely honest, ma belle," He whispered back with a knowing smile, completely unashamed to be enamoured by the woman slowly stoking him, eyes fluttering shut from the pleasure surging through his body.

“Maybe next time, sweetheart.”

Charles simply smiled, eyes barely open as he watched your bodies connecting in the most intimate way, tongue quickly swiping across his bottom lip in preparation for your kiss. As you gripped him tight in your hand and bottomed out on his achingly hard cock, you pressed your lips to his, forced to swallow the loud moan falling from your lips.

l' attente, you whimpered before a sharp inhale caused Charles’ eyes to shoot up to your closed ones, searching your face for any pain.

"You good?" He asked softly but swiftly with his hands firmly placed on the outside of your thighs, gently holding you in place until you have him the okay to move his hips.

"So good," You breathed, tilting your neck back and arching your spine to change the angle a little, feeling that sweet spot deep inside you being brushed ever so gently, “You feel amazing right there.”

Once you both hit that toe curling, achingly good rhythm that you had perfected together, Charles rested his chin on your shoulder and watched how mind-numbingly hot you looked riding him in the mirror, his hands firmly grabbing your ass and spreading you out like a meal he was desperate to devour.

"My god..." He growled as you looked down and followed his eye line, biting your puffy bottom lip when you realised he was watching himself disappear inside you, every inch taken care of. And you too, were groaning at the sight.

“You look gorgeous riding my dick, baby.”

"We look sexy," You were quick to correct, breathless from both the sight of Charles’ large, veiny hands leaving prints on your backside and his relentlessness to have you losing your goddamned mind on his dick.

Both had you twisted in knots, the pit in your stomach tightening with every thrust and all you could do was thank whoever had invented weight training because boy, were you reaping the benefits now. Sex in your home gym – tick.

+ + +

parlez-vous français? (the sequel to itch)

masterlist | askbox

[loggiepj]

illicit affairs

part 2 | part 3

YOU'D be a fool trying to convince yourself that Wanda was just some old hag sleeping on your bed that night. But god, she had never looked so peaceful and gorgeous than that very moment, as she was ten years ago. You didn't even know it was possible for someone to look so beautiful, it looked like a crime. As if the gods above blessed only those who were cruel. And cursed those who worshipped them.

Her creamy white legs were exposed from the blanket wrapped around her body. Her tiny soft snores filled the room as she buried herself deep into the pillows. It would take days before her scent would be gone from your sanctuary.

It tore you apart to look at her and feel these forbidden emotions, mad at yourself for feeling this way towards the old woman. You should hate her. You should have kicked her out for what she did.

You decided to go to the kitchen and make something for breakfast instead, preoccupying yourself from worrying too much, that the one nightmare you had always have had come true.

Even your hands were shaking as you beat down the eggs into a bowl, it was a miracle you had managed to cook food. The bacon almost ended up burnt when you jumped from her sudden presence in the kitchen.

"You're awake," you said, ignoring Wanda's gaze on you, her eyes glistening with a recognizable look. You knew that look. She used to look at you that way when you were wearing nothing but her white button down shirt as you made her a quick midnight snack whenever the twins weren't around. But that was ten years ago.

You don't feel anything for the woman anymore, right?

"I made us breakfast," you said before she opened her mouth to speak, stopping her. "You should eat first before you leave."

Wanda took small steps towards the dining table, looking at the food you made her. You wondered if she was touched, remembering how Wanda preferred scrambled eggs more than sunny side ups. But you convinced yourself you didn't do it for her. Because that would make you a martyr.

"This is good," Wanda softly said as you two began to eat in silence. You forced a small smile her way and went back eating.

"I haven't had breakfast like this for ages," she admitted, chuckling. "The boys mostly want cereals for breakfast, I ended up liking them, especially those colorful sweet ones, the . . . I forgot what they were called."

"Froot Loops?"

The skin around her eyes crinkled when she smiled. "Yes, Froot Loops. I swear I'd end up having diabetes one day."

You nodded, chugging down what remained of your coffee as you avoided the woman's gaze.

"What are your plans today? It's a Saturday," the brunette added. "The twins are planning to shop around Chinatown before the classes start. You might even have ideas where to-"

"I can't," you answered, "sorry, I am meeting someone today."

"Oh," she went on, a teasing smirk on her face, "a girlfriend?"

Your fork made a noise as you let it fall down your plate. "What do you want, Miss Maximoff?"

Wanda's smile immediately vanished as she stopped eating. "I . . . I'm sorry if I said something wrong. I didn't mean to pry if you have someone special-"

"No, I mean, what do you want? Why are you here? What were you thinking looking for me, for you to end up inside a sketchy bar?"

Wanda bit back a sob as she looked at you, her hand slipping to hold yours across the table. You tensed and abruptly took it away, ended up with her curling hers into a fist.

"I am so sorry, Y/n," she began, "I'm so sorry for what I did all those years ago, for what I said to you, for being so cruel. I . . . I have to live everyday regretting everything I have said to you. You didn't deserve those things. You were nothing but good to me, and I took you for granted. I . . . I just . . . miss you. I miss you, Y/n. There isn't a day in my life since you left that I haven't thought of you."

You scoffed, standing up as you began cleaning the dishes.

You heard the scraping of her chair against the floor as she stood. "I looked for you. After your graduation, I looked for you. I wanted to take back everything I said. I didn't mean those things. If I could only turn back time, I'd go back to that very day and I should've kissed you and chose you-"

"But you can't," you butted in as you turned to glance at the hysteric woman before you, "turn back the time, I mean."

Wanda was panting softly as her teary eyes stared right at you. She shook her head as she said, "No, I can't."

"That's unfortunate, then," you said back coldly.

Wanda swallowed, still frozen on her spot, and before she'd burst into more tears in your apartment, you went towards the doorway, grabbed your coat and keys. "I'm just gonna grab some coffee. Your clothes are freshly laundered in the bathroom if you want to freshen up before leaving. Please don't forget to lock the door when you leave."

"Y/n—" But you haven't heard the end of it as you closed the door.

Luckily, Wanda wasn't there when you went back home two hours after. But once you had ensured the whole apartment was empty, you broke down and cried.

TIME and absence would surely heal a wound. A couple of months had passed since that dreary encounter and you swore there were a few days when you had completely forgotten about Wanda. That was until you received a call late Friday night when you had only just arrived in your apartment.

It was a nurse from a nearby private hospital, saying that Tommy got into an accident. Before you argued why you were in his contacts in the first place, you drove to the hospital to visit.

Apparently, Tommy got into a fight in one of the fraternity parties he and his friends attended. With broken nose, cut lip and fractured arm, Tommy almost looked unrecognizable.

"Sorry, Y/n," Tommy said when he saw you enter the emergency room, "I didn't know who else to call. And I don't want to worry Mom-"

"It's okay, Tommy. Are you okay? What happened?"

And as you listened to Tommy and the nurse who attended to him, your breathing quickened, your hand hovering over the phone in your jean's pocket. Hesitant to call his mother, even if you knew you had to. Seeing the brunette was the last thing you wanted to do. But this was her son. Your feelings should come last.

Instead of calling the woman, you ended up sending her a short text message, to which she replied instantly, saying that she was already on her way.

You were getting a cup of coffee from a vending machine outside the hospital when Wanda arrived, hearing her voice inside the emergency room.

You decided to sit on the bench by the waiting area, thinking whether you should leave them or stay. You must have fallen asleep on your seat for a few minutes when you felt someone sit beside you.

"Thank you for being there for him," Wanda said.

"How's Tommy?"

"He's under some meds right now for the pain, but the doctor says he's going to be fine."

"That's good," you said.

"There's no available private room at the moment, so he has no choice but to stay in a ward with other patients," she went on, massaging her head. "Doctor said he'll likely be discharged tomorrow or the day after that."

"If you want, you can sleep in my apartment, take a bath or such, while waiting for him to get discharged," you offered. And you had no idea where such sympathy came from.

There was even a short moment where her eyes were at your mouth before she looked back at you.

"I don't want to impose—"

"Wanda, it's fine," you insisted. "For Tommy."

She nodded. "Thank you."

YOU VISITED Tommy in the ward first before leaving, while waiting for Wanda to finish filling up the papers in the hospital's admission room.

"You going to be fine alone?"

"I can manage," he replied, chuckling, showing off his cast.

"Will your father visit?"

The smile on his face disappeared, his fingers playing on the tape around his wrist. "Dad does not visit us often anymore. And I hardly believe he cared for us anyway, now that he has another family of his own."

That was news to you.

"I always tell Mom to find someone so she wouldn't end up alone," he went on, his eyes at the window where you two could see Wanda busy writing. "But she never remarried after Dad, maybe it was because she never trusts men like Dad anymore. But it's been years, you know. I know she's too scared to admit it, but I know she's lonely at home now that me and Billy are in college."

Your eyes were on Wanda as she talked to the Doctor. "I'm sure she'll find someone in the right time."

He laughed softly, making you look at him. "Come to think of it, they got divorced years ago, months after we didn't see you at the house anymore. There was one time Billy thought you were the other woman Dad has been cheating with. But I know you're not that bad of a person."

You stiffened. "You mean, they'd been divorced that long?"

Tommy hummed. "Yes, ten years ago, I guess. We eventually found out who the other woman was. Good thing we didn't curse you by mistake."

You forced to laugh at his joke, but your mind was running in deep circles wondering if the divorce really had something to do with you.

"COME on, don't be shy," your friend Steve invited Wanda, who looked as shocked as you were. "Any friend of Y/n is a friend of ours."

Somehow, when Wanda was returning the clothes you lent to her that time Tommy was hospitalized, there you were in your apartment with your friends, who held a surprised farewell party for Bucky, who was leaving for London the next day. As if Wanda knew perfect timing.

Kate hadn't left your side, even sitting between you just to eradicate any weirdness. The group's conversation went from talking about everyone's jobs, making Wanda let out her plans she was starting a flower shop business in New York and that she had just bought a spot particularly two blocks from the university. You tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, and convinced yourself she was only doing that to be closer to her boys. But you knew better.

Even Kate faked a laugh as she held another toast for the woman. "What about a special someone, Miss Maximoff? I heard you were divorced. Anyone you're meeting at the moment?"

Wanda's eyes met yours for a second before you looked away and drank whatever was left from your bottle of beer.

"No," she answered, chuckling. "I think I'm too old for that stuff anyway."

Bucky chortled. "No way you're old, Miss. If you want, I can set you up with people I know from work. I might even be successful on setting you up than Y/n here, whom I've failed a number of times."

"Why?" Wanda asked curiously.

Kate tried to stop Bucky. "Bucky, just give it a rest—"

"Oh, Y/n here has unknown high standards," Bucky enthusiastically added. "Believe me when dozens had gone down on their knees and Y/n has respectfully refused any advances."

"Shut up," you said, laughing, although you could tell Wanda's eyes never left yours all night long.

WHEN the party ended, all of the attendees slowly started to leave the apartment until there was only you and Wanda. Wanda helped you clean up the place, starting with throwing the empty boxes of pizza and bottles of beers into the trash bag.

"Y/n." Wanda broke the silence. Chappell Roan's casual was playing through the speakers.

"Mm?"

"Is it true?"

You stopped putting the dishes into the dishwasher to look at her. "Is what true?"

There was a small pause before she went on. "Have I ruined you for anyone else?"

You straighten your posture, frustrated as you glared back at her. "How dare you?"

"Then tell me," she challenged, approaching you with a sly smile on her face. "It's an easy question answerable by yes or no. Tell me."

"You infuriate me!"

"That's not a no—"

"You're nothing but a pathetic old slut who craves attention from someone who doesn't want her anymore!"

"Admit it then!" She leaned forward, closer to your face, her nostrils flaring. "Say it to my face that you don't feel anything for me anymore and I'll leave you alone for good! Tell me—"

You pushed your mouth against hers, effectively stopping Wanda from talking. She gasped upon the impact, with her back hitting the wall behind her from the force. And she welcomed you with as much aggression, her hands cupping your face to hold you.

With your arms on each side of her head, you pressed your bodies together, molding against each other. Her tongue played with yours, tasting what had been missed, wondering if each one of you were still as desperate as you were ten years ago.

"Y/N!" she moaned loudly a couple of minutes later as you pulled her hair, while roughly pistoning your strap into her from behind.

You had never thought you'd be able to do it. But there you were in your own bedroom with the woman you both loathed and loved so much on all fours before you. And it was driving you insane.

Mind filled with rage and lust, you tried to forget that this woman before you was the cause of your downfall. You tried to forget she hurt you, broke your heart to pieces as if you were nothing. Basking in the moment, you harshly grabbed the skin of her hips, nails digging, as you repeatedly and relentlessly pushed into her warm dripping entrance.

The tip of your strap hit your clit at the right angle, making you roll your eyes to the back of your head. And when you heard Wanda's whimpers before you, your hand slipped through her back then held her shoulder as you fastened the pace.

The brunette screamed as her body convulsed in waves, shuddering as she came. If it weren't for you holding her upright, she would've fallen straight face down on the sheets.

But her cumming didn't stop you from chasing your relief. The sweet nectar from her release dripping down both your thighs only made the action slippery and noisy.

"Y/n. . . ," Wanda moaned, her hand attempting to hold you back but you slapped her hand away before leaning forward as you held both of her hands behind her back. This rendered Wanda's face flat against the pillow before her, muffling her moans.

"Is this what you want, huh?" you demanded, eyes almost in tears seeing Wanda and pretending you weren't just loving every moment that was happening right now. "Is this what you want from me?"

"Yes!" she screamed, gasping when you spanked one of her butt cheeks. "Yes! Y/n! You're all I want! You're all I've ever wanted!"

And that snapped something inside you. The coil in your stomach exploded, making you press your front into her back as you lay on top of her.

"Wanda," you moaned into her neck, your hips stuttering as you came. She held your face behind her as your body shook.

"I got you, Y/n," she cooed softly as you panted, still trembling above her. "I got you."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I truly appreciate your continued support in reading my stories. You can help me create more stories by supporting my writing thru this link. Thank you so much ❤🥰

[predestinatos]

CHALLENGERS — CL16 & MV1 🏓

summary: the line between rivals and friends was blurred. and then you came. MINORS DNI!!!!

word count: 3.5k

tags: charles leclerc x fem!reader x max verstappen, implied cheating, flirting, them being horny boys, 3some vibes, heavily inspired by challengers.

warnings: smut (no sex but... everything else) dirty talking, cheating, cursing.

note: yes i've been obsessed with challengers and i thought the dynamics would look rlly fun on a fic!!! am 100% invested on making this a series! also i'm aware those are padel things in tbe picture but this is just for the cover aesthetics okay!

12:52AM

“You know I can beat him, right?” Charles’ voice sounded rough as he stood against the doorframe, confident smile spread across his lips, arms crossed against his chest, making his muscles stand out. You looked at him then, from your lying position across the hotel bed – one you shouldn’t be on – and shrugged. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

The defiance in your tone registered like a cold breeze across his skin, causing him to shiver slightly yet not break his demeanour as he moved towards you silently, lowering himself towards you on the bed now, face inches away from yours. “I didn’t know you still needed convincing.” Charles noticed how you licked your lips as you stared at his, how for a quick second you almost forgot what you were talking about as your breaths melted into each other. His throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed, both of you so silent it could’ve been a scene from a nature documentary: prey seducing predator, but which is which?

“You asked” you replied, refusing to break the distance first, wanting to prove that you were stronger than he thought, that he needed something from you which he couldn’t possibly get, not anymore at least. You looked at his eyes, its bright colour now so darkened by something close to thrill over what was going on in that moment, a thrill you wanted to suppress. “Just wanted to see how good of a liar you were” Charles bit his lip, smile now growing slightly. Maybe it wasn’t thrill. Maybe it was actual amusement.

“You’re unbearable” you said, now turning your face away from him, rolling your eyes at his sheer arrogance. “You want me” he got up from bed, taking off his t-shirt as he searched for his pyjamas. His back flexed with every movement, muscles stranding out in his glistening skin. He smiled knowingly, because although he could not see your face, he knew you were looking. He always knew.

“Brave of you to think so” you shot back, getting up as well, grabbing your bag from the small armchair placed in the corner of the room. Rushing towards the hotel door, his frame stood between you and it – the ability to breathe, the absence of guilt, the absolution of uncommitted sins. “See, you’re still a bad liar” his bare chest rose and fell in front of you and Charles wished he could say he wasn’t about to crumble before you but that wouldn’t be true either. His confidence was only partially real, for he did not have the strength to do more than this, to test you and push you only this far – part of him knew you couldn’t resist, but he was never entirely sure.

YEARS EARLIER

The country club was boring. You didn’t know why your family insisted on going apart from trying to prove how rich they were, something which got exhausting too quickly. Sitting at the table, you played with the olive in your martini as your dad talked about “business” and your mom laughed about something.

The sun warmed your skin as your bare legs welcomed the heat gladly, the only source of some amusement in that place. It was tiring. Your brain felt like it could explode from lack of stimulation. Minutes passed at the speed of years. You had to do something, quick, or else- “I’m going for a walk” you said suddenly, or a voice said, part of your brain who was even more tired than you thought. Your family stood, staring at you briefly before nodding and continuing their tasks, like robots who were well instructed to continue their mission but not used to abnormalities.

Max was sweating. We would feel disgusting, unclean, even, were it not for how focused he was on the game, on his friend – rival, for a few minutes – in front of him. The tennis ball travelled from his racket to Charles in something near to slow motion for him.

Charles was amused. He always was, for he loved playing almost more than winning. He loved getting under his friend’s skin, seeing how hard he tried to beat him while his careless attitude ate him with each hit he took. There was something god-like about his commitment, his seriousness, that Charles admired, if not even envied. He couldn’t care as much about things the way his friend did – he was passion, Max was reason. That’s the way they always worked, and you could see it in the way they played, hear it in the way they grunted as they hit the ball with their utmost force.

“Okay let’s take a break” Charles said, throwing his racket carelessly on the floor as he walked towards the end of the field, towards his water bottle. Max stood in place, looking at his friend, wondering if he looked as disheveled as him – dark hair glued to his skin, cheeks red and a constant frown on his face from the sun’s insistence on affecting them. “It’s 30-all! You can’t just ask for a break when it’s 30-all!” his complaints were dismissed with a shrug of shoulders. “I just did”

Max inhaled heavily, used to this behaviour yet not immune to how much it annoyed him, and on his exhale, he felt his friend’s hands on his shoulders, massaging them gently. “Relax, don’t be so tense all the time,” Charles whispered, slight irony laced in his tone as he buried his hands in his friend’s warm shoulders from the heat.

“Don't stop now, I was enjoying it” your voice broke through them unexpectedly, causing them to turn their eyes towards you simultaneously. Max stared at you, his eyes locked on your teasing ones. But it was Charles who spoke first, in an attempt to match your tone. “And who are you, exactly?” Though you answered his friend, your eyes remained on Max's green ones, on the shy smirk growing slowly across his lips. The hands previously on his shoulders fell across them, brushing his back and finally leaving him altogether, as if melting from the heat. He barely noticed. Maybe he didn’t notice it at all. “I'm Charles” he walked towards you confidently, leaning against the railing that separated the court from the bleachers, one eye closed in a permanent blink due to the sun. You got up, looking, for the first time, at the dark haired man closer to you. Moving slowly towards him as you climbed down the stairs, you felt his defiant gaze, so different from his friend’s yet equally as alluring to you. Now as close to him as you could, your hand on the railing, mere inches away from his arm, you spoke. “And your friend over there?” Charles looked back, as if trying to recall who you could be referring to, prolonging a moment unnecessarily, only to allow his arm to brush against your hand as he turned back towards you, head tilted. “Why do you want to know?” Max’s racket felt cold against his burning skin, the image of his friend's toned back and tanned neck directed towards you, with a short skirt and tight top, causing him to wonder if he was hallucinating, overheating, going crazy. “Charles, she wants us to play more.”

10:45PM

He liked watching you, how you moved so softly, hands caressing your legs as you applied mosturizer. It was almost religious, how your breath guided his unintentionally, how he forgot everything for a few seconds, maybe minutes, maybe hours.

He leaned against the bathroom sink as you placed your foot on top of the toilet seat to better access some parts of your skin you could not otherwise reach. You felt his gaze, still so similar to the one he first used when he first layed his eyes on you – the same intensity, mind over matter debate circulating through his mind as he analyzed every inch of your skin.

“I’m going to win tomorrow” Max said from behind you; a certainty in his voice that made you chuckle with something close to frustration. You muttered an ‘okay’ as you continued your movements, your bracelets clinking against each other. “I’m serious. You know I’m serious” he repeated, frustrated at your nonchalantness, at your dismissal of his convictions.

“Don’t be patronizing” you finally said, turning around as you spread the remains of the cream on your arms and hands. Though you were in underwear and he was clothed, he felt vulnerable in front of you. The ring adorning both of your fingers didn’t make your presence any easier to bear over the years, despite his attempts at pretending it did.

“What do you mean?” he asked, eyebrows now raised, turning his head to follow your frame which walked towards the hotel bed. “You know what I mean, Max” your voice was stern, your head always high despite you being shorter, as if he was the one who had to look up to you, though he hadn’t, not really.

“You weren’t like this with him” he looked down now, his profile outlined by the bathroom lights. You admired his attractiveness, his intentional care to be clean, precise, as close to perfect as he could. You admired how his expressions never oscilated between extremes, or at least how he managed to hide it so well if they did.

“You don’t need me to tell you these things the way he does” you sighed. You had had this conversation, or something close to it too many times to count. “You have the girl, you have the championship, what else do you want, Max? You want me to constantly tell you you’re a winner, you’re a big fucking boy who’s so so good?” you continued, more aggressively than you perhaps intended, though it did not matter, not really, at least.

He looked back at you now, though he dare not move. His throat bobbed up and down now, and you noticed how his knuckles whitened slightly as he held the sink tightly. “Maybe I do” it was almost a whisper, the way he said it, trying to hide from the attention he so craved, his body manifesting more than he wanted to show.

You looked further down his body, to where your words seemed to affect him most, though he remained looking at you. You admired his silent boldness in contrast to Charles’ loud one. "I chose you, Max" your voice sounded velvety to him, almost driving him insane as he felt his cock hardening. He felt ridiculous. Maybe he was; his obsession with your approval was also an obsession with beating Charles' appeal to you. He might have won many battles but Max had won the war.

YEARS EARLIER

Charles was better - better looking, better skilled, and effortlessly so. Max thought all of this as he stared at the back of his friend's slightly burned neck, standing behind him in front of a bedroom door.

"Ok so, let's not fuck this up" Charles said, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a match. "She clearly wants us"

"Us?" Charles turned around at the question, incredulity written across his face. "Yes, us. Now which one she wants more... We'll find out"

Before he could protest at his friend's unapologetic confidence, the door opened. You stood there, oversized t-shirt being worn as a nightgown, smiling at the two boys.

Both of them frozen, lusting over you so obviously it was almost insulting, were you not turned on by the way their gaze explored your body. Charles had a signature smirk that did not care to hide where his imagination was roaming as he stared at your bare legs; Max, on the other hand, was overcome by a darkness that almost intimidated you, studying every inch of your body hungrily.

"You're just going to stand there?" you asked, half laughing, waking the boys up from their trance. They both rushed inside excitedly, causing you to giggle subtly. It was flattering, how much they seemed to crave your sheer attention.

“So…” you asked, moving to sit on the carpeted floor, trying to make them comfortable – which didn’t need much effort, as they seemed to make themselves at home promptly, Charles’ unbuttoned shirt exposing his chest to you, and Max’s own t-shirt was so tight it left little to the imagination.

“You liked to see us play” Max started, a newly found confidence reaching him, a smile matching it perfectly. Maybe you were the one to give it to him, your eyes landing on him as if daring him to speak, him specifically. Charles’ opened up a bottle of a cheap drink he found at the liquor store they had ran to just hours before, as they realized they might actually have a chance with you.

“I did” you answered with a nod, now looking at Charles, who offered you a glass, your fingers brushing his purposefully.

“So much that you wanted more” Max continued, so factual it could pass as arrogance – though it resulted in a blush from you. You admired his sudden calculated boldness, the way he brought the cup to his lips after saying those words, as if he had commented on the state of the weather.

“And you gave me more” you replied, trying to match his – maybe their – tone.

“Oh, we haven’t given you nearly enough” Charles now stepped in. He couldn’t help himself, not with you in front of him, not with the small room closing in on him as he felt your need grow along with his, along with Max’s, along with the cups and the drink and the sheets and the carpeted floor.

“You two do this a lot?” you asked, daringly, though the question had crossed your mind throughout the day. Was this enticing to them? Sharing a woman, pleasuring her together, driving her mad with their games, their touch and words?

They let out a soft laugh together, almost synchronized. They were both beautiful, though in opposite ways – Max’s features were hard despite his soft, quiet demeanor, while Charles’s were softer, more carefully sculpted despite his own careless behavior.

“What, go after the same girl?” Charles asked, looking at Max, who looked at him as well. They found it amusing and rather ironic, really. Everything was a competition to them, even if nothing got in the way of their friendship. What made you especially exciting was how they both wanted you, and how both of them were aware of that fact. They both know the game was on the minute you showed up, like a match they fought in the court.

Upon your nod, Max decided to speak up. He had to; it was somehow agreed and decided who would say what, an unspoken rule he seemed to have made with Charles but couldn’t quite remember. “No, not at all” he laughed, cup now empty as Charles grabbed the bottle and filled it some more.

“What he means is… You’re just that attractive” the brown-haired man spoke. Was he flirting with you, or were they both doing so, even if it came only from his voice? You couldn’t help but feel your whole body responding to how they looked at you, how they seemed to crave you with indescribable need.

“What about you two?” you asked now, blaming the alcohol – though you had barely drunk anything. Their eyes went from you to each other again, awkward and rapidly, as they blushed slightly.

“No, I mean… no we haven’t” Max said, causing a soft chuckle to come out of Charles, his friend’s shyness over the topic making amusing him. It’s not like they haven’t thought about it – not at all – but they hadn’t told each other this. This concept lived in their heads, and none of them dared to bring it up, though they had seen each other naked and crossed lines most so-called friends probably wouldn’t. But neither of them had the conversation about what it meant, or what it could mean, because they didn’t feel the need to. Not until now.

You shrugged it off, finishing your drink in a single gulp. Looking at those two men, you realized you couldn’t quite decide what to do next – you wanted to do so many things that felt too forbidden to speak.

You looked up at Max, his eyes so needy it made your blood pulsate in your veins, the certainty that he would do anything for your touch right in that moment causing you to shiver. Slowly, you moved towards him, his face so close to yours that he dared not move, not until your hands reached his neck and pulled him towards you, kissing him.

That seemed to shift something in him, his own arms holding you as if scared you’d leave, as if wanting to consume you all, taste all of you. His hand instinctively grabbed your waist, though you knelt on the ground and couldn’t – wouldn’t – go anywhere.

“Oh, fuck” Charles said, looking at the both of you. The sight should make him jealous, but it did quite the opposite. He felt aroused, more than he wanted to admit, watching Max controlling your body and movements, eyebrows furrowed from pleasure, as your own lips moved messily and erratic against his, not caring about how it looked. You were putting on a show for him as you savored all of Max – Max was simply savoring all of you, for he had forgotten his friend was even there.

You pulled away, however, now deciding you had to try the other man, who seemed to be in a state of pure bliss over you, your attitude, your movements. You barely moved towards him – you didn’t need to – as he rushed towards you his hand resting on your thigh and grabbing it tightly. He was more aggressive, more assertive and confident in his kiss. He didn’t let go of himself the way Max did, but then again he barely held himself back at all when it came to you.

Max was staring. He knew he was staring but he couldn’t look away. The sight was erotic, something out of his deepest, darkest fantasies – your hair being slightly pulled by Charles’ strong grip, your own hands on his cheeks as his tongue travelled across your mouth. Suddenly, his kissing went down to your neck, and you held him there as you looked directly at Max.

Just your look could have driven him insane, right there and then, but he wouldn’t let it happen. He was hungry for more of you, more of whatever was going on, wanted it to last as long as it possibly could. “Come here” you called for him, who obliged immediately.

At first, he mimicked Charles, but soon his mouth was on yours again and you felt both boys’ mouths on your body, the amount of sensations fogging your mind as you let them both consume you. You pulled Charles mouth to yours, joining the kiss you were sharing with Max. The three of you kissed – messily, sloppily, completely letting the primal, animalistic part of you loose.

You wanted to touch yourself. Wanted them to touch you, feel how wet you were, savoring all of you. You wanted them to touch each other for you – for your gaze, for your entertainment and fulfillment, the way they were doing so now, as you pulled away and watched their own mouths against each other.

Max was hard. He couldn’t think anymore, dizzy from the caresses he was feeling on his body, from the insanity of the moment, from everything and nothing. Charles was drunk – drunk on the intense rush flowing through him, from how hard he knew he was, from how fucking spectacular everything seemed in that moment.

You were in complete bliss. The two men before you were in absolute awe of you, yearning for you with fervent need, letting themselves go to the point where they even yearned for each other. It was time to stop it.

“Okay” you said, snapping both of them back to reality instantly. Both Max and Charles were shocked at how they felt nothing close to shame over the moment. In fact, they felt exhilarated, ready to keep going, to prolong the moment with each other, with you, forever. “It’s time to go” you continued, watching the glow disappear from their faces as they breathed hard, chests falling and rising rapidly. “What?” they asked in unison, something close to innocence returning to their faces.

“We’ll do this again, right?” Charles asked, getting up after you did, with Max following. He was aware that he was hard, his cock rubbing against the fabric of his boxers and shorts uncomfortably. And he was also aware that you were turned on, though he could only imagine how soaked you actually were – a picture that didn’t help his situation.

“Sure” you answered, seeing their gleeful faces one last time before adding, as you walked them to the door “one of you will. The one who wins tomorrow”, closing it on them before you could see the smile turn into a frown.

[princessoflalaland]

so y'all know the sick man from lady k and the sick man? well, i've only read that thing one time, and im not afraid to admit how unhealthily infatuated i am with lady k's man. he's literlaly my favorite flavor of man: older, kind of a deadbeat with a good heart, can and literally wil fuck you from sun up to sun down, built like a greek god, he. is. PACKIN, looks half dead, a genuine sweetheart with his lover's best interest in mind. i think his name is tostumoto yuushi, and lemme just say that i would gladly, GLADLY, take lady k's place if it means i get to breathe that man's air for even a second.

just imagine you've known tostumoto yuushi since maybe high school, having even dated him at one point. you two experimented with your bodies, tested the waters of intimacy because who better to do that with than someone you love. adversely though, life managed to drift you two apart for a few years. when you two reconnect it's a dingy casino. by that time, he's already jumped from job to job, left a recent custodian gig, and gambled most of his savings. he's on the verge of eviction and feels like he's at his lowest. the only thing he truly feels is his undying sex drive, which isn't much in the face of everything. the flame between you two rekindles as quickly as it did all those years ago, and before you know it, you're back at your apartment with his tired face nestled between your thighs.

"forgot how good you tasted, baby, fuck.." he rasps, his tongue dragging hastily over your clit, making your legs quiver and close around his head. your fingers yank at his dark hair, incoherent babbles falling from your moist lips. "yuushi," you mewl helplessly, your sensitive core constantly leaking your essence into his greedy mouth. "'m gonna cum again, s-slow down, nghhn.." he leers up at you, his eyes dark pools of lust burning holes into you. "do it, cum in my fuckin mouth."

and you do. the pressure in your gut is far more intense than what it usually is, and as you achieve your third orgasm of the night, you squirt onto yuushi's face, leaving him glistening with your release. he licks whatever landed on his lip and rises so that his large body is hovering over where yours lays sprawled on the couch, the look in his eyes makes your core pulse. "c'mon, be a good girl and clean me up."

i'm probably gonna write something abt him one of these days :')

[deathbyathousandspiders]

peter and reader literally js making out and being adorable !

i kinda got carried away w this one so it’s a little bit ✨spicier✨ than intended-

!!! 18+ (MDI) !!!

content warnings — a really steamy make–out with Peter, sexual content, teasing.

✨masterlist✨.

1.2k.

The emptiness of Peter’s apartment carried his voice through the echoes, making the space feel that much bigger as you sunk into his couch. His Aunt May had gone out with some friends for the evening, making some suggesting jokes and comments that made you and Peter blush, even long after she’d left.

All the lights were off in the apartment, excluding the lamp behind Peter’s closed bedroom door, and the colorful glow of the television seated in front of you. You and your boyfriend were cuddled on his couch, entranced by George Lucas’s galactic storytelling. Your head had previously been resting on his shoulder, but due to Peter’s current geeky–tangent, you sat up to listen to him better.

“He used to make lightsaber sounds when they were practicing, and he’d have no idea.” Peter was quite expressive when he explained little Star–Wars facts to you. There was something about the way his eyes lit up, and he’d use his arms to guide the sentence.

You bit the inside of your cheek, hiding your amusement as best as possible whilst you listened. Your entire focus was set to him, but the passion he had for these movies never ceased to entertain you. The two of you had been dating for roughly five months, and from the little mental list you were creating of your favorite Peter things, these conversations were one of your top picks.

Peter’s eyes kept flickering back and forth from you to the movie screen, glowing happily as he went on with his vent about Revenge of the Sith, more importantly, Ewan McGregor. “He had been so used to making the effects when he was younger, that when they’d film their battle scenes, Ewan made the sound effects out of habit.”

As much as you had been paying attention to his words, your thread of thought was more occupied with the enthusiasm laced in his voice. The timid dimples that threatened to say hello in the midst of his smile, the ecstatic gesture of his hands, and the glistening tint of excitement that strung within your eye contact. You’d been so entranced by his little geek–out, you almost forgot to respond.

Your grin grew a little, despite every Star–Wars related response fleeting from your brain. You let the first thought you could muster slip through your lips. “You’re adorable.” You probably could’ve given a more thorough and engaged response, but seeing the red that flooded Peter’s expression made it all the more worth it.

Peter looked at you for a moment, completely flustered. He was off guard at the fact that ‘you’re adorable’ was your only response to his Star–Wars tangent. His lips parted a few times to speak, but his words failed every time. “Shut up..”

Carefully, you slid yourself closer to him beneath your shared throw blanket, looking up at him. Your head shook in response as you placed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “No.” You replied between kisses, placing a few more across his face. “I need to tell you how sweet and adorable you are...” Sooner than later, your lips found their way to his, connecting in such a sickly sweet way.

The kiss you shared seemed to ease the nerves that accompanied the blush on his face. You could feel the warmth of his fingers trace your upper thighs, pulling one across his legs so you could straddle his lap. You loved the feeling of your lips piecing together; the upper, then the lower, and the way your bodies fit together just as perfectly. It was intoxicating.

“I need to tell you how sweet and adorable you are..” Peter spoke, breathless between your kisses. His voice hummed lower than before, rasping in the back of his throat. Even though he’d just been particularly focused on the movie, his mind now went to other places. Just the thought of your intimacy, mixed with the way his hands kneaded the plush of your hips, sent a thrilling sensation straight down to your lower stomach.

Eyes shut, you were the one to first part from the kiss. “But we’re talking about you, Peter.” You lulled, feeling the way his lips chased after yours to stall your argument. You tucked your head away from his, your left thumb pressing itself on his lips as a barrier. You took the opportunity to cradle his face with your right hand in the process.

Your eyes slowly opened to meet Peter’s, fighting a smirk at how desperately he looked at you. You stared at him through your lashes, keeping your face irresistibly close to his. “I’m not going to kiss you until you take the compliment..” You teased, speaking barely above a whisper. You trusted him enough to remove your thumb, not even a little surprised by how eager he was to kiss you again.

It was easy to dodge him, and delectable to feel the light brushing of lips on yours; the urgency and impatience in his breath fanned against your parted lips, driving you just about as crazy as it drove him. The power you held was ravishing. Tension was quick to build between the two of you, binding both of you that much closer together. It took every bone in your body to fight the urge and cave to his need for you. His head craned in closer, doing everything he could to press his lonesome lips back to yours.

Peter tried to find a loophole. His hands grasping at your ass, his lips trailed and teased at your jawline when you’d dodge him. He found it infuriating, but also just as enjoyable. “Fine...” He huffed, smirking lightly. “Thank you.” Peter met your lips hungrily when you kissed him again, as though he’d been deprived of your embrace for years.

The kiss was much rougher than before, fueling the growing need for friction between your thighs. You rocked your hips against his, pressing the ache in your core to his growing erection. A heavy breath caught in your throat, lips parting further at the pressure. It was easy to let the world around you melt away, getting lost in Peter’s touch as his fingers tugged on your hair, and traveled under the thin fabric of your shirt.

Just like that, the jingle of May’s keys fumbling at the door tied you back to the crisp presence of reality. You flew off your boyfriend’s lap, seating yourself beside him like you had been moments prior. Swift movements brought a pillow to hide Peter’s arousal, and just like that, it looked like you two were merely watching a movie together. Well, minus the matching red hues on your cheeks.

May hummed a tune quietly to herself, mirroring the smile you sent her as she walked into the dark apartment. “The girls and I are heading to Jenny’s for the night, but I wanted to grab my Hennessy.” She chimed, strutting into the kitchen like she’d be out in a jiffy. Her attention got caught on the television for a moment, her smiling growing. “Oh! Pete, you found it!” May glanced at you, “Did he tell you that he spent all afternoon looking for his collectors DVD? He was really looking forward to showing it to you.”

You watched the way Peter’s head hit the back of the couch, pressing his palms into his face to try and mask his embarrassment. “May, stop!” He whined, sustaining out the words to emphasize just how flustered he got. His words were muffled through his hands, but you still couldn’t help but find it adorable. He was just too cute. You just had to let the giggles slip through your lips.

Yep, no doubt about it; Peter’s geeky Star–Wars obsession was definitely one of your favorite things about him. That, and your steamy make–out sessions.

[pyramid-of-starrs]

Stretch you out

Pairing: Gym Trainer Yeosang x gn!reader

Word count: 1.4K

Warning: Unprotected sex (make sure you are safe besties), vaginal sex, dry humping kinda??, sub reader, kinda pwp

A/N: I honest can just see Yeo being a gym trainer that you tell your friends you wanna fuck tbh lol. It's just something short and fun to give yall!

"C'mon, you can do it, a little more for me."

"Ahh~ please no more Yeo, you're gonna break me." You said between your battered moaning.

"No I'm not, you can handle it." he giggled as he watched you struggle. Two things were going on right now that caused you to struggle at this moment.

Number one, Yeosang, your unforgiving trainer decided to call you out on your excuses today. You always quit the routines he would give you mid-way saying your body felt tight and that you forgot to stretch at home. Him being a sweetheart he didn't want to overwork you and risk you pulling something so he always let you bail out, however today he offered to help stretch you out and wouldn't take no for an answer. You arrived at his gym prepared to be worked out to high hell today, thank god you got private sessions so no one else would be there to watch you suffer. At first, the stretching was pretty standard and not that bad, you actually felt your body loosening up, he then instructed you to lay on your back so he could stretch your legs, thighs, and glutes. Your heart raced a bit thinking about your sexy and buff trainer gripping your legs and ass but you refrained from thinking too much about it to keep a professional vibe. Feeling Yeosang palm your ass like a basketball made you feel hot inside and you couldn't help but let out small "Fuck"s and whimpers as he shifted your legs in various positions

The thought of him flipping you around with ease while he fucked you turned you on so much, maybe too much because you started to feel your pussy tingle as it got wetter the more he touched you. You looked down to see Yeo sweating from moving you around, the sweat made those huge biceps of his glisten and of course, he chose to wear a sleeveless Nike compression shirt today and his broad chest looked huge, you could feel the room spinning but you kept your composure. It was all swell until he gripped both your ankles and folded your legs to your shoulders.

"Ahhh, fuck." your eyes got wide at your sudden outburst.

"Feels good to be getting stretched out like this huh? See what happens when you prep properly!" He said with an eager smile, he was so sweet and oblivious he didn't realize he was just egging on your fantasy of letting your trainer fuck you good into the gym floor mats.

"Y-yeah." you said as your brain got foggy. Yeosang stretched your legs even more, bringing your ankles to your ears as he leaned his body against you.

This is where your second problem came in, while he was pressing his body against you you started to feel something else press against your core. That's when you realized, Yeosang definitely free balls in his gym clothes because his dick was hard as a pipe pressing against your already needy pussy. Seems like someone else is also enjoying this session a bit too much, but you knew Yeosang would never make a move on you, he was too polite, so now you're stuck with his unhelpful banter and hard dick.

"You're doing such a good job, just a little longer Y/N and we'll be done."

You couldn't help the sounds falling from your mouth as he praised you, you couldn't take it anymore, this was the most torturous version of edging you could think of.

"Y-yeo please, please." you said in a hoarse voice, he tried to get closer which only brushed his length more into your walls.

"What was that? I can't hear you, speak up." he said, no fucking way he doesn't know what he's doing.

"Oh my fucking God Yeo please you're going to kill me."

"You can take it, I know you can." he said, oh yeah he knew exactly what he was doing, he just needed you to give him the green light at this point, he just wanted to hear you say you needed him so he could fuck you senseless right then and there. He pushed on your legs even more, his dick sandwiching between your soaking wet walls as it pressed against your needy clit, you yelled out even more moans, you couldn't hold them back anymore.

"Please just fuck me, please, I need it so bad, please oh my god!" You yelled out, you didn't even realize you said that, your mind was only on getting fucked by him and feeling every inch of his dick inside you.

Yeosang giggled teasingly at your request.

"I thought you would never ask." He sat back on his legs as your weak legs stayed in place, Yeo was a nice guy but he was rude as fuck when it came to sex. He gripped your leggings with both hands in the crotch part and ripped it open, exposing your wet sex. He rubbed his fingers over it as he stared at your kitty like it was the most beautiful sight. He placed his two fingers over your throbbing clit and rubbed circle 8's on it, your hips bucked upward because of the sensitivity, more moans and pleads fell from your lips.

"Do you need to be stretched here too gorgeous?" He said looking up at you with the face of an angel but the horniness of a grown man.

"Yes, please! Please put your dick in me." You continued to beg as your hips bucked and moved on their own, he decided to not make you wait anymore, he pulled his shorts down a bit and let out his angry red dick, he reached for his gym bag, and pulled out a condom.

"Please no Yeo, I want to feel you inside me, I'm on birth control."

Luckily one of the things that came with being your trainer was you being very open with him and telling him everything so he knew you recently were tested and could trust you.

"So needy for her trainers dick, how long have you wanted this love?"

He said as he gripped his dick and lined it up with your entrance.

"So long Yeo, so fucking long." You said as more whiny moans came out of you.

He brushed your wet pussy with his dick to cover it with your slick then pushed his hard tip in, he slowly sank his length into you as he held both your ankles in the air, his mouth was a gape while your eyes rolled to the back of your head, already feeling the rush of your orgasm approaching. He finally bottomed out in you, leaned down, pushing your legs back to your ears, and took no time as he started to drill into your leaky cunt. The macaroni noises your needy pussy was making mixed with your desperate moans was like a porno was being made. He was relentless with how his hips moved as he continued to drill into you.

"Your so wet, you like how my dick stretches your little pussy out? It's so tight I'm surprised I can fit in so easily."

His vulgar words only egged your orgasm on even more, your brain was empty, only hearing the slapping noises being made by the raw and unfiltered sex. You were babbling nonsense while he fucked you dumb. Tears started to fall from your eyes.

"Please Yeo I'm going to cum please fuck me more."

He had a cocky grin on his face watching you get fucked into a dumb drooling, crying mess, he thrust his dick hard and deep into you, you could feel him hitting deep inside.

"Your pussy is going to be nice and stretched out when I'm done, you'll only be able to fit my dick inside of it." His endless stamina from working out was showing because his hips never stopped driving into you. You felt your peak as you screamed his name, drool running down the side of your cheeks as your orgasm took over you, your whole body shook from how powerful it was. Yeosang continued to fuck you through your high, when you finished he pulled out and sat on his knees, he pumped himself a few times then hot ropes of cum shot onto your stomach, legs, and butt, getting all over your clothes, remember when I said he was rude as hell? Thank God these were your gym clothes and you changed here.

He looked at his watch as you were stuck there from getting absolutely drilled.

"Looks like our session is up. Can't wait to see you tomorrow." He said with his cute little smile.

[toxicanonymity]

Some Landlord ! Billy smut would be Perfect, if you have time. Thanks Tox 🥺

murderbait

BILLY LOOMIS x f!READER | 2k words | The Leak WARNINGS: 18+ sleazy landlord Billy, Gratuitous slutty descriptions. masturbation in public, detailed PIV fantasy, degradation, praise, banter and bickering, light enemies to lovers dynamic, manhandling, dom vibes, sexual tension, pet names, "protective" Billy. NOTES: Sure, nonnie. I offer this sleaze with love. 🖤🖤

In the middle of the night, you wake up sweaty despite being completely naked and using no covers. Without putting on any clothes, you walk to your kitchen to get a cold cup of water, only to see a stack of filled ice trays next to the sink because you forgot to put them in the freezer. Ugh.

You get a glass of water and stand in front of the fridge with the door open. The air conditioner in your window feels weaker every day. It’s so stuffy in your trailer, you wonder if you’d be better off with the window open. Still naked, you go to the kitchen window and slide it open. No matter how hard you push upward, it won’t click and stay. 

“Piece of shit,” you mutter. But the fresh air does feel good. 

Standing in the window with your arms raised, tits blazing, skin glistening…. something moves in the corner of your eye. There’s a fake security camera mounted on the shed you’re looking at. At least you always assumed it was fake, since the owners are such deadbeats. You give it the middle finger just in case, then use a pitcher to hold the window up. 

You go back to bed for a while longer, then get up and rifle through your unfolded laundry, looking for a swimsuit. You find a bikini that appears to have shrunk, but it has adjustable strings so you put it on anyway. Next door, there’s an extended stay hotel that has a pool. It has a cracked and faded slide, no longer in use, and half the rungs are dangling from the pool ladders. It won’t be the first time you’ve snuck in there. No one seems to care, and no one’s going to be out at this hour anyway. 

The pool water is normally warm by sunset, but in the middle of the night, it’s cooled off enough. A weakly-inflated flamingo pool float sits atop the water, and a couple of pool noodles hug the wall. Half the pool lights are working. There’s no way this would pass an inspection, but sometimes it feels like barely anyone outside the area knows it exists.

You sit on the side of the pool, and as you lower yourself into the water, you look down to see your hard nipples barely contained by the shrunken, unlined triangle top, with some areola showing on one breast. The sight of your own slutty fit turns you on, and you don’t fix it. 

Kicking your legs out in front of you, you imagine Billy joining you. Billy and his dirty wifebeaters and trucker hats and jeans that fit too well. Billy and his slutty fucking selfies that you can’t stop looking at every night. Billy, and that look in his eyes like he could eat you up, if only he were hungry. 

He’d be hungry right now, you bet. You turn to your side and use both feet to grab a pool noodle, letting yourself off the wall as you mount it. Straddling the  pool noodle, you turn toward the wall and rest your forearms on the side and squeeze your thighs together. 

Closing your eyes and resting your head, you fantasize about him. He’s a low-life and a sleaze, and god he makes it hot. The way he moves, it shouldn’t be hot at all, but you’ve been watching him closer ever since he sent those selfies, and when scratches his lower belly, lifting up his tank top, exposing his happy trail, at this point it drives you fucking crazy. Like that’s where you need your forehead. You tilt your hips for more pressure from the foam between your legs. 

There’s not a single thing about him that says he’s a better guy than you thought, but maybe he is. Or more likely, you don’t care. Or, perhaps most likely, you kinda like him bad. 

He’s not the kind of man you’d want in your life, but in your bed? 

It’s so easy to picture his silhouette at the foot of your bed, scratching himself, then lewdly grabbing the massive bulge in his jeans. 

Your hips begin to move on their own, seeking friction with the foam noodle. 

You can see him kneeling onto your mattress, prowling toward you, arms flexing, chains hanging down from his neck, dangling in the air–god if you could feel those hit your skin. You can feel him grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand, while he unbuttons his jeans with the other. 

You reach down and slide the pool noodle against your front, grinding your hips. 

He’d probably lean in real close, say something cocky like, “you ready for this?”  Ugh, his voice. With his dick in his hand. “Think ya can take it?”  Yes, yes, please. He drops his thick meat heavily against your mound. Yes, please. God, please, you’d be squirming under him, wrists pinned by his hand, lifting your hips desperately.  “Sure ya can handle this big cock?”

Fuck. It’s so clear, you can practically smell him. Your whole cunt throbs and you’re gushing in your bikini bottoms. “Mm,” you quietly hum as you get closer. 

He’d shove himself into you, you’d arch your back and moan. He’d chuckle darkly, then his free hand would come to your jaw, dwarfing your face as he uses just two fingers and a thumb to squeeze your mouth open. The smell of cigarettes intensifies as his face hovers over yours, then he spits in your mouth. And he stays there, bottomed out, and you’ve never felt so full but you need the friction, you need him to move so bad, you need him to fuck you, you beg him to fuck you, really fuck you. “Yeah? Need me to fuck you?” God, yes. 

“Mm,” your face screws up. You're so wet, and your clit twitches as you rub the front of your swimsuit with the foam cylinder you're straddling.

You can practically hear him say, “Poor baby.” He’s got half a smile, amused and in control. “Yeah I'll give it to ya,” he begins to slowly retreat, pauses with his cock half-withdrawn and lowers his pitch. “Who’s your daddy?”

The tension snaps and your lips part as you see stars. 

Squeezing your thighs tight around the pool noodle, you ride it out, cumming to the thought of his girth stretching you with his gold chains dangling over you, hips beginning to move, jeans sitting loosely around his hips. 

You weren’t planning on doing that, but, there you are, coming down off that high in the motel pool, in your shrunken bikini, skin buzzing, so tired and peaceful you could fall asleep. 

And then metal scrapes against concrete, stirring you from your blissed out state. 

A shadow moves.

His deep voice at a low volume, with that edge of condescension: "All done?”

Your stomach drops. You almost don’t want to look up, but you do. It’s his silhouette, manspreading in a worn-out chair, with a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. The shadow of his stupid trucker hat hides his face. You let go of the pool noodle and try to subtly push it away, obviously too late. Frozen, heart racing, you’re standing with your chest above water. 

“What are you doing here?” you demand. 

“Don’t worry, I’m on my way out.” He stands up and stretches, revealing his happy trail. He twists in another stretch and god, his silhouette - his jeans bulging, clearly aroused. “An' so are you, c’mon.” 

“I’m still cooling off,” you protest. 

“I’ll bet.”  He drops his cigarette into his can of beer and carries it with him as he approaches the pool with his face still in the shadow of his hat. Light reflects off his gold chains. 

You make a fake effort to adjust your top and can’t take your eyes off his jeans. He adjusts himself and stands there giving you a moment. 

Then he loses patience and says, “Alright, sugartits. Let’s go.” 

He squats down and grabs you by the arm. 

“Hey,” you protest as he starts to manhandle you toward the shallow stairs. “Alright, alright. Damn”

When you’re out of the pool, he looks you up and down. You feel like covering yourself up, but you defiantly stand with your hands on your hips. 

“Tryin’ to turn tricks out here?” He slowly steps toward you and his eyes are glued to your chest. “Good place to do it….prolly make a few hooker friends too.” 

“How many of’em have you fucked?” you retort. 

He ignores the question and reaches for your chest. 

Without blocking his hand, you look down and part of your nipple is showing again. He “fixes” your suit, tugging it over and thumbing your nipple while he’s at it. It covers your areola but leaves underboob. 

“There ya go.” 

He puts a toothpick in his mouth and motions for you to lead the way. 

As you exit the pool area dripping wet, you mention, “If you’re gonna spy on me, you could bring me a towel next time.” 

“Yeah, okay,” He mumbles with the toothpick at the corner of his mouth. “Just lookin’ out for ya’s all.” 

“I don’t remember asking you to.”

He pulls the tab off his beer can and it replaces the cigarette that had been between his fingers. He throws the can into a bush.

As you reach the trailer park property line, he throws his toothpick into the shrubs and lowers his voice. “Listen sugar, there’s some shady fuckin’ characters over there.” 

You scoff. “Apparently so.” you shoot him a look and can’t help but check him out while you’re at it. A harsh floodlight highlights the freckles on his big, tan shoulders. 

He keeps on, “You tryin’ to get stabbed?” 

“What?”

“Dumb as hell, sneakin’ over there, middle’a the night.” 

Somehow, this makes you feel stupid. Like if he’s calling someone dumb... Damn. 

You walk the rest of the way to your trailer in silence with him following slightly behind you. 

“Lemme guess, ya left it unlocked, too,” he mutters, then opens your door himself. “Fuckin’ murderbait over here,” he grumbles.

He stands with his back to the open door and waits, making your body brush his as you walk in. 

Full body goosebumps. 

He stands there looking at you, and you eye his pants. Slowly, he steps into your personal space, and you back up almost to the nearest wall, but not against it. There, you stop. Letting him close. With his hand on the wall, he effectively traps you, blocking you from going any further into your trailer.

The smell of Newports fills your nostrils. He wets his lips and looks from your eyes to your chest, then  your mouth. 

He brings his nose to your neck and barely grazes you as he takes a long sniff. His nose brushes your cheek, and his lips follow. Just above a whisper, he warns, “Don’t do it again.” 

When you don’t answer, he pulls back and his hand comes to your neck. He’s gentle, not applying any pressure, but the presence of his large, strong hand is enough to feel like a threat. One that makes you more turned on than scared. “Got it?” he asks, looking at your mouth. Can’t be sure if he’s talking about going over there alone or leaving your trailer unlocked, and it doesn’t really matter. His eyes are wild, and it’s like he’s inspecting you, marveling at your face. 

You whisper, “Yes sir,” and await his next move. 

He takes his hand from your neck and cups your cheek to whisper, “Good girl.” 

You could actually melt.

He gives your chest another look and drops his hand, incidentally brushing his wrist against your breast before he pulls up his jeans. He bites the aluminum tab and turns to leave without another word. As he walks away, your eyes are drawn to a glock sticking out of the back of his pants. 

He looks back at you and winks before shutting the door behind himself.  

-----

-----

------

Thank you for reading! I appreciate your interest and engagement with him so much.

Please take care of yourselves ♥️