#I am gonna get drunk on cocktails

[bethlxxx]

Not long until Saturday night 🎉

[woahajimes]

i hate tumblr new format. alsooo whatd i miss

[chuuyrr]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐆𝐍𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 .ᐟ

feat: dazai, chuuya, fyodor

ꨄ˙ CW(s): gn! reader, mentions of alcohol (reader is drunk)

ꨄ˙ SYNOPSIS: in which you drink too much and don't even realize that your boyfriend is your boyfriend or you might as well be drunk in love

in the dimly lit bar, the air was filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses. you found yourself swirling the remnants of a colorful cocktail, the room around you blurring as the night progressed.

DAZAI sits beside you, and couldn't help but notice your flushed-pink demeanor, fueled by the drinks you had consumed, and giggles to himself.

in your tipsy state, you tilt your head, looking at dazai with a playful suspicion. the room spun slightly, and you sway on your seat, trying to focus on his face.

"you know," you slur, "you're a suspicious stranger. i bet you've got some secret agenda." you point an accusing finger at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

dazai, amused by your playful accusations, couldn't help but giggle even more, "oh, do i now? well, i'm just a harmless 'stranger' who happened to find the most adorable drunk person in the entire bar."

you raise an eyebrow skeptically, still not recognizing him, "adorable, huh? well, mr. stranger-fanger, you're gonna have to prove it." you cross your arms, a challenging smirk on your flushed face.

dazai, seizing the opportunity, wraps his arms around you with a mockingly serious expression, "see? no danger here, just a guy who appreciates adorable drunks."

you broke into a fit of giggles, melting into his embrace, "well, you're not that bad for a stranger, i guess."

completely unaware that the 'stranger' was, in fact, your boyfriend, you continued to enjoy the whimsical dance of laughter and teasing, creating a memory that would undoubtedly be cherished in the days to come.

"i'm gonna be serious though, i am your boyfriend," dazai says to you.

you blink softly at him, your tipsy-drunk state had somehow lead you to look at him as such. dazai blinks back before a grin starts to tug on his lips.

"do i have to remind my dearest? well, then. buckle up because you're in for a treat!" he says before he instantly starts peppering your face in kisses as he holds you tightly.

you immediately start to squeal and giggle as you are reminded of the constant kisses that your boyfriend would give you admist the alcohol in your system.

"osamuuu!" you say in a soft whine before he pecks your lips.

dazai grins even more widely at your cute little whine as he cups your face now, "that's more like it. goodness, such an adorable drunk you are, hmm?"

CHUUYA watches with a mix of concern and amusement as your cheerful demeanor transformed into a tipsy state.

as the night wore on, chuuya decides it was time to take you home. he gently placed his gloved hand on your shoulder, trying to capture your attention, "hey, it's getting late. how about we head home?" he suggests, his voice warm and caring.

however, in your inebriated state, you misinterpreted the situation. you gasp sharply before you squirm in your seat and whine softly, "nooo, i'm having so much fun here! plus, you can't take me home! i have a boyfriend!"

chuuya was flabbergasted, but he couldn't help but chuckle at your resistance afterwards upon seeing this, "come on, baby, i'm not a stranger. i'm your boyfriend, and I just want to make sure you get home safely."

now it's you blinking softly, looking at him with a mix of confusion and innocence, "boyfriend? really?" you giggle, completely unaware of the true nature of your relationship.

"you're being so silly right now, i almost can't with you," chuuya sighs, still laughing softly, "geez, i didn't know my baby can be this forgetful with this much alcohol."

undeterred, chuuya continued to coax you gently, his amusement growing as you stare at him in awe as you begin to pat his cheeks in your warm hands, "this pretty face is all mine?"

chuuya chuckles again, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks as he takes your hands in his before leaning in to press a lingering kiss on your lips and whispering, "i'm all yours, baby."

the night unfolded in a blend of laughter, warmth, and the endearing challenge of convincing you that the 'stranger' was, in fact, the person who cared for you the most, and you couldn't help but giggle even more into the kiss.

FYODOR observes your increasing intoxication with a measured gaze, a sense of concern clouding his usually composed demeanor.

as the night unfolds, you continued to enjoy the array of drinks that nikolai had generously provided you two. fyodor, recognizing the potential consequences, decided it was time to intervene. he places a hand gently on your arm, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

"dear, perhaps it's time to slow down," fyodor suggests, his voice calm and measured as he tries to get you to stop.

you looked at him with a tipsy grin, oblivious to the fact that fyodor was your boyfriend, "but nikolai is just being generous. no harm in a few more, riiight?"

fyodor's piercing gaze held a mixture of concern and determination, "i'd rather not see you regretting this tomorrow. let's enjoy the night responsibly," he insists, attempting to guide you away from the tempting allure of more drinks.

however, in your intoxicated state, you resisted his efforts, misinterpreting his intentions, "oh, come on! live a little, stranger!" you playfully tease, unaware that fyodor was the person you were romantically involved with.

fyodor couldn't help but hide a small smile at your playful antics, though he inwardly feels a twinge of sadness at being referred to as a stranger, maintained his composure.

he observes you with a subtle sadness in his eyes, a fleeting emotion that betrayed the depth of his feelings. still, he wasn't one to give up easily.

with a gentle touch, he cupped your face, making you meet his gaze, "remember, i'm the one who cares deeply for you," he murmurs with a faint smile, his eyes staring in yours.

"i may be a stranger in this particular scenario, but i am not to you," fyodor replies softly, realizing that your drunken state was proving to be a barrier. yet, he didn't relent.

the realization began to dawn on you, your intoxicated mind slowly connecting the dots, "wait a minute... you care about me? really?"

fyodor nods, his eyes holding a mixture of hope and longing, "more than you can imagine."

you blink softly, still processing the situation through the haze of alcohol. before you could react, fyodor leaned in, pressing a soft and lingering kiss against your lips. the touch was tender yet filled with an unspoken depth of emotion, an attempt to bridge the gap that had momentarily separated you.

as the kiss unfolded, a subtle warmth spread through you, and the fog of intoxication seemed to lift momentarily. the taste of familiarity mingled with the hint of sadness, creating a poignant moment that transcended the blurred boundaries of the night. fyodor then pulls away, his gaze searching yours for any signs of recognition.

there was a pause, a moment of suspended realization. slowly, your eyes widened, and a spark of recognition flickered within them. "wait," you whisper, your voice carrying a mix of surprise and clarity as you smile. "you're not a stranger, only my fedya kisses me like that!"

a soft smile tugged at the corners of fyodor's lips as the weight of being called a stranger lifted. the kiss had served as a catalyst, a bridge that connected the fragments of memory scattered in the alcohol-induced haze.

"my, my, how could you forget your fedya, dear?" fyodor sighs, shaking his head before he kisses your lips again and whispers, "traitor.."

ꨄ˙ A.N.: i feel like i might have written fyodor in an ooc-ish way, and if i did, i apologize !! haven't written for him in so long and i don't write for him as often as dazai and chuuya. this is also kinda silly i think now that i've finished writing this lol !! thank you so much for reading until the end (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[mrsbarnesblog]

girls' night

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Soft!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: your boyfriend is now really happy that you want to go to the club with your friends without him.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: kinda +18? mentions of sex, drinking, reader is slightly drunk, Rafe's being needy and horny

Author's note: sooo, i'm happy to introduce you my new crush (idk how did i live without him tbh). I haven't even finished watching obx, but Rafe/Drew holds me in a chokehold. I had no choice but to write something because the voices in my head became too loud lmao. so yeah, I hope you enjoy my version of him💘

“I won’t be there for too long, baby. Don’t be so dramatic.” You softly laughed while you applied your lip gloss in front of the mirror. Through reflection, you saw your not-so-happy boyfriend sitting at the edge of the bed, eyeing your outfit with a pout. 

“Do you have to wear that? Couldn’t you wear like sweatpants or something?” Rafe mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes looked up and down your body from the back, stopping at the edge of your pretty dress that barely covered your ass. “And why can’t I at least go with you? Give me a reason.”

“Because it’s a girls’ night. Boys are not allowed. We just want to go somewhere, talk, drink cocktails and dance. What are you gonna do there anyway?” You took a last look at yourself before grabbing a purse and coming closer to Rafe. 

“Your point is weak as fuck, princess.” He rolled his eyes. “You know I hate it when you go somewhere alone. Especially looking like a fucking desert. Especially when there are tons of dumbasses who think they can hit on you.” Rafe’s voice was gruff but you knew that he wasn’t angry at you. 

Despite the rumors about Rafe being a total asshole, he had never treated you even remotely badly. Well, you were the only person who was blessed with his soft and caring side. Rafe was the best boyfriend you could’ve possibly asked for, even with his mood swings. He was so overprotective and he got really panicked just at the thought that something might happen to you. 

You stepped closer, now standing in between his legs, and put your hands on both sides of his face to make him look at you. Two large hands immediately flew to your hips as Rafe soothingly rubbed your skin through the material of the dress. 

“You trust me, right? You know I don’t care about them. I want only you.” You smiled at him, leaning lower and touching his nose with yours. Rafe exhaled, bringing your body closer to his and lowering his head into your neck. 

“Of course I trust you. I just don’t trust everyone else.” You smiled at his words, burying your right hand in his hair. “Fine, if you don’t wanna stay here tonight and ride my face for hours and then get fuc—“

“Rafe!” Your laughter filled the room as you pulled away and slightly slapped his shoulder. “You're disgusting, you know that, hm?” 

“You didn’t mind me saying it this morning.” He shrugged, half serious. 

“Fine, you big baby. I am going out with my girls right now, and you can do whatever you want with me afterwards. Deal?” You offered him a pinky. That man was ready to have sex 24/7 so you knew that you had no choice but to give him something, otherwise, he would bother you for hours. 

Rafe curiously looked from your eyes to your finger, but then finally gave up, wrapping his pinky with yours. 

“Deal. Just be safe, baby. Call me if something happens. Promise that you will.” 

“I will.” A smile stretched across your face as your heart flattered inside your chest with love and warmth. 

The night was amazing. You met with your friends who you hadn’t had a chance to hang out with for a few weeks and all of you were dancing and laughing for what felt like eternity. 

It took you forever to climb the stairs to your and Rafe’s bedroom in the big ass house that you were living in. You hoped that he was already sleeping, but even your drunk brain understood how ridiculous this thought was. Your boyfriend would never go to bed without you by his side. 

“You said that you wouldn’t be there for too long, Y/N.” Rafe said as soon as you stepped into the room, holding your heels in your hand. The clock showed that it was almost 1am, and you slightly shook your foggy head to figure out how long you spent in the bar. 

“I’m sorry, baby. But it was sooo fun! We had such a great time.” You laughed, tossing your shoes on the floor and slipping out of your dress, standing only in your underwear. 

As much as Rafe wanted to be mad or argue, he couldn’t. He felt ill just thinking about you alone in the club without him, but you were clearly happy. Drunk, with flushed cheeks and sparkly eyes. You looked so pretty, and now seeing you without that goddamn dress only in a blue lingerie set that he had bought you not so long ago made him hard within seconds. 

You went to your vanity to take off your makeup with wet wipes, barely having any more power to stand. Rafe stood up from his place on the bed, stepping behind you and wrapping his arms around your body. 

“You look so fucking hot, baby. I want you so bad.” You felt warm lips leaving light kisses on the side of your neck while hardness pressed against your lower back. 

“Noo, Rafe. I’m so tired and drunk right now. I want to go to sleep. Let’s do it tomorrow, please?” You whined, still moving your head to give him more free space on your neck. 

“My dick is going to explode. I haven’t touched you since morning.” He grumbled, brows furrowed, as you quickly slipped out of his arms and dove under the blanket on the abnormally large bed. 

Your eyes trailed back to your boyfriend, who was obviously annoyed and tired but still had a visible boner. This thought made you giggle again while Rafe muttered something under his nose, running a hand through his hair. If you weren’t in such a state of mind, you would’ve definitely found it hot. 

Yeah, annoyed Rafe was your guilty pleasure.

“Can you, like, do it while I’m sleeping? Just don’t wake me up.” You lazily asked, almost drifting to sleep. 

“Excuse me? Who do you think I am?” Rafe’s brows shot up, genuinely shocked that you really suggested that. “I’m not fucking you while you’re unconscious, babe! What the fuck?” 

“Then wait for tomorrow and come cuddle with me.” 

He looked at you for a few seconds in silence. You were almost asleep, snuggling into the pillow and Rafe had no power in him to not find you adorable. He threw his head back in defeat, then removed his clothes and winced as he realized how long it would take for his dick to calm down.

He slipped beside you into the bed, turning off the light. On instinct, you moved closer to him, your head on his naked chest and your hands wrapped around his torso. 

“‘m sorry, Rafey.” You mumbled against his skin. “I promise that tomorrow I'll be all yours.”

Rafe sighed, kissing the top of your head and hugging you back. A soft smile crept onto his face when he heard you almost purring under his touch. “Mhm, you’re lucky that I love you, princess. So, so much. You know that, right?”

“Yeah. I love you too. So, so much.”

[the-iceni-bitch]

Chemical Override, Ultraviolet. You Could Be Mine Tonight…

Relationship: lawyer!amazon Natasha Romanoff x plus size!short female!reader (Big Red and Peach)

Words: ~2.3k

Summary: It’s your birthday, again, and Nat really can’t help but spoil you.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (w/w sex, strap-on use, pussy eating), established relationship, kind of idiots in love, they’re just really fucking cute, SMUT!!! NO MINORS!!!

A/N: I love them and I’ve missed them terribly. They really are so goddamn adorable.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all my fics follow my sideblog, @the-iceni-library , and turn on notifications!

“God, do we really have to go?” You pouted at Nat while she grabbed her purse. “We could spend the day at home and do dirty stuff.”

“Baby, it’s your birthday, a big one,” she chuckled when you huffed at her, “Listen, just trust me. I know you, I know what you like. I promise you’ll have a good time. You’ve been wanting to try this place forever, right?”

“I guess…” You had, but it was always so busy, and your loving but occasionally overbearing girlfriend was probably going to make the waitstaff sing to you.

Before you had a chance to whine any more she was shoving you out the front door. At least it was a short walk, but that didn’t mean you were going to quit being a brat about this. Every time you were about to complain she would just kiss you, though. Then you would forget what you were going to make a fuss about and get pouty about that. Damn her and her ability to predict your behavior! Why couldn’t she let you be grumpy? Of course, it was always hard to stay grumpy when your gorgeous Amazon of a girlfriend was holding your hand and smiling at you like you were the whole world. You were going to give it your best shot, though. It’s not like she didn’t love you cranky ass anyway.

When you reached the restaurant you let out a loud whine, stamping your feet a few times and pouting while Nat just smiled and dragged you inside. You braced yourself for the crowd and the noise and all the shit you didn’t want to deal with on your birthday.

But it was empty. It was Friday night and one of the most popular restaurants in the city was empty.

“Nat…” you squeezed her hand when she led you to the only set table in the place. “What did you do?”

“I decided to spoil my little peach for her birthday.” She just shook her head when you sniffed at her holding your chair out for you. “C’mon sweetheart. I already gave the chef and bartender a list of what you wanted to try most so you won’t have to see anyone else except when they bring out the next dish.”

“Jesus Christ,” you were still getting used to how well this woman treated you, but looking at the smoked salmon tarts and pink cocktails you couldn’t help but smile. “Are they gonna bring all the rosé cocktails?”

“You bet your fine little ass they are,” she kissed your hand as she sat down next to you. “Just don’t get too drunk. Can’t have you falling off my dick later tonight.”

“Nat!” You slapped your hand over your mouth when you snorted and felt your Paloma go up your nose. “Will you ever stop bringing that up?”

“Not ever,” she grabbed your hand when you slapped her shoulder and kissed each of your fingers, growling playfully and nibbling on your thumb when you snuggled up to her. “Your adorable little squeal when you tumbled off the bed is forever ingrained into my memory. My little girl was just so sure she could ride the big boy.”

“Shut up,” you let her feed you a tart and scrunched up your face when she kissed your forehead. “I would’ve been fine if I was sober.”

“Whatever you say, birthday girl,” Nat took a sip of her vodka cranberry and wound her arm around your waist. “Not like you get overconfident whenever you’re drunk or anything.”

“Hey, if I can take it lying down I should be able to ride it!” When you realized how loud you were talking you were suddenly very grateful that the restaurant was empty, your face getting all kinds of hot as you took a long drink of your Paloma. “I mean, logically.”

Nat really did know you and what you liked, and it didn’t piss you off like it used to at all. You could talk to her about anything when it was just the two of you. You could laugh that stupidly loud and screechy laugh you did when she reminded you of something stupid you did that she insisted was the most adorable thing in the world. The food and the drinks tasted amazing when you weren’t feeling overwhelmed by people surrounding you. Just you and her, and goddamn you were in love with her.

“This cake is fucking ridiculous,” you giggled when she wheeled out some pink flowery monstrosity with sparklers sticking out of it. “It looks too pretty to eat.”

“But eat it we shall,” damn her being so cute and cheering while she filmed you blowing out the sparklers then helped you pull them out of your cake. “I got the dark chocolate cherry you wanted to try. So eat a slice then we’ll pack it up and take it home.”

“Well,” you beamed at her when she cut you a nice big slice. “If you insist. Holy fuck, this is soooooo good!”

You could have eaten the whole thing. You would have if Nat hadn’t made a cryptic comment about a special surprise when she started to box up the cake. As much as you loved cake, you loved surprises from your girlfriend even more. So you just kept that ridiculously goofy grin on your face while she somehow managed to both hold the box of cake and keep you from wobbling when you tried to walk home on your semi-drunk legs.

“So bubbly when you drink your little pink drinks… shit!” Nat threw her head back and laughed heartily when you pounced on her as soon as she had put the cake down once you got home. “My my, aren’t we the eager little thing?”

“Mmhm,” you kissed all over her face and made needy sounds. “Need my birthday spanks from mommy.”

“Dear lord,” she gave you another lovely laugh and then threw you over her shoulder, slapping your ass as she started carrying you up the stairs while she counted off. “One… two… three…”

By the time you had reached the master bedroom she was finished and you were so worked up you could hardly breathe. You squealed when she tossed you on the bed and tore off your dress, your face getting warm when she looked at you like she was going to eat you alive. It still gave you the butterflies in your stomach whenever she looked at you like that, you always had a little bit of trouble believing she was real and in love with you.

“Wait, where are you going?” You propped yourself up on your elbows when she was suddenly gone. “Hey, I’m naked and it’s my birthday, what the fuck, Romanoff?”

“Be a little patient, pretty peach,” your sassy retort died in your throat when she walked out of the closet wearing nothing but lacy red panties, thigh highs, and a very large black strap on you had never seen before. “You really think I would leave my best girl hanging on her birthday?”

“Hehe, nuh-uh,” you squeaked when she grabbed both of your ankles and yanked you down the bed, gasping and wiggling when she nipped at your heel before kissing her way up the inside of your leg. “Mommy…”

“Mommy knows, baby girl,” she smiled against your skin when you kicked and giggled at her sucking on the sensitive spot on the back of your knee. “We have to make sure you’re ready for mommy’s cock, peach.”

You just mumbled nonsense in response as she nibbled her way to your throbbing core. As soon as her mouth met your slit your entire body shuddered violently, your breath coming in such fast, short pants you were worried about hyperventilating. But hey, passing out when your amazing sex goddess of a girlfriend was licking your pussy would be far from a bad thing. It hadn’t even been thirty seconds and you already felt like you were right on the edge, your eyes rolling back in your head and your hips grinding against her face while she fucked your with her mouth. When she gave your swollen clit a little nibble you broke, sobbing and squirming wildly as your cunt fluttered and gushed all over her face.

As soon as you were finished she was crawling up your body and stealing what little breath you had left in your lungs with a kiss so passionate you were quite sure you were going to faint. Then she was inside you, and goddamm. You were so overwhelmed all you could do was babble incoherently and clutch at her shoulders as she drove into you over and over again.

“Such an eager little girl for mommy, aren’t you?” Nat chuckled when your only response was a hiccup as she ground against your clit. She kissed your lips again, then kissed your neck, and then she was sucking on one of your nipples and oh look at that, you came again already. “That’s it. I bet your little pussy is squeezing mommy’s cock so hard right now. You are making a mess all over mommy’s thighs right now, peach.”

How you were supposed to actually respond to her was a mystery. You were nothing but a writhing bundle of sensations at the moment, sobbing and gasping while she fucked you with that strange mix of ferocity and tenderness that made submitting to her so damn easy. The occasional glimpse of her gorgeous face hovering above you managed to break through the fuzzy haze of your vision but then the world just turned back into a warm, golden glow as she somehow managed to wring even more pleasure out of your spent body.

“Fuck!” Your third orgasm made your body spasm so hard you were almost in pain, drool leaking from the corner of your slack mouth when she kissed you and started to pull out. “No, wait… nononono, don’t go…”

“Peach, baby,” Nat chuckled when you lifted your hips to try to keep the strap inside you. “You can hardly keep your mouth closed right now, birthday girl. Mommy thinks it might be time for some aftercare.”

“But…” you gave her a cute little scowl then rolled over onto your stomach, arching your back and pushing your hips up so you could wiggle your ass just a little. “It’s my birthday. Can… can you just fuck my ass a little bit… pretty pretty please?”

“You are an insatiable little minx, Jesus Christ,” she shook her head affectionately and gave your ass a firm smack, groaning appreciatively at the jiggle of your generous curves before spreading your cheeks and spitting right on your asshole. “I’ve spoiled you, haven’t I?”

“Mmhm… fuuuuuuuck…” your eyes rolled back again when she slid her finger inside your ass, rocking your hips so you were basically fucking your own hole on her hand while she gave you a few more quick spanks. “More…”

Nat really couldn’t say no to you, smacking your ass one more time as she slid a second finger inside you. It was hard not to give you everything you wanted when you were this fucking responsive, your pussy gushing and your voice leaving you in an adorable squeak when she pushed in a third finger. She could feel your desperation in the way your insides fluttered and clenched around her digits, leaning over your perfect, soft body and kissing the back of your neck while she stretched you open. Her fingers were gone without warning but you only had a moment to mourn the loss because then she was slamming the strap inside you so hard you saw god for just a second.

You had to bite the sheets underneath you to keep from screaming like you were being murdered as she started to fuck your ass in deep, long strokes. Her teeth were digging into your shoulder, her hips were grinding against your cheeks, and your ass was so full of her dick your guts were most likely going to be permanently rearranged. Then she was touching you, her hands were everywhere and maybe you could have held out a little longer but then one of her hands was between your legs and you were lost.

“There we go… that’s it, baby girl,” Nat crooned and slammed into you one last time as you came with a shriek, rubbing your clit gently while you shuddered and wailed from pure ecstasy. “Such a perfect girl for mommy.”

She pulled out of you slowly once you had collapsed into the mattress, undoing the harness around her hips and waist quickly and tossing the toy aside before wrapping you in her arms again. You just took a few short breaths as you struggled to get yourself under control, sighing when she rolled you onto your side and held you close to her chest.

“God, that was a pretty good fucking birthday present,” you giggled when she kissed your forehead and wound your arms around her waist. “Not gonna lie, I was thinking you were going to propose when you made such a big fucking deal about this one.”

“Were you?” Nat tilted your head back with a finger under your chin and beamed at you. “It is a big birthday, peach, but I wanted today to be all about you. Besides, I don’t like surprise proposals. That’s why I’m doing it at Christmas.”

“Oh, haha,” you snorted and rolled your eyes, your throat suddenly getting tight when she just kept smiling at you like she knew something you didn’t. “Nat… Nat, say ‘haha’. Nat, don’t you fucking joke around with me right now, that’s not nice,” you felt the blood run from your face when she just kissed your forehead and stood up while murmuring about running a bath. “Nat?! Natasha?!!!”

[froggibus]

How about a pool day headcanons with Wally West?

Pool Party - Wally West

Genre: fluff/crack

Summary: how a pool day/night with your bf would go!

CW: established relationship, gn! reader, alcohol/drinking, brief mention of skin cancer, brief mention of drowning, Wally is a Dork™️

every time i get a Wally req 10 years is added to my life so thank you for this anon! hope you are having a great day (and summer!) i was way too excited to write this on my break also

this is part of our Summer Suntacular event, come check it out!

THE MOST FUN EVER 

even if he isn’t invited he WILL be there 

he’s a huge party crasher ngl

brings so much booze for himself that people think it’s for the whole party (it’s not—just speedster metabolism) 

he’ll share with you if you ask nicely tho

will throw you into the pool at least one (1) time 

please pretend to drown just to make him feel like an asshole. please. 

has dorky little aviator sunglasses so he can feel like a fighter pilot

he will be a lobster by the end of the day so PLEASE force him to wear sunscreen 

“Pfft, babe, I don’t need that. I’m the Flash.”

“You can’t outrun skin cancer.”

however if YOU try to skip out on sunscreen he’ll literally force you to apply it 

he will hold you down and rub it in for you or use his speed so you don’t notice 

spends so much time in the pool that he’s practically waterlogged 

literally only gets out to refill drinks or to shake water all over you like a dog

you’ll be minding your own business tanning or talking to your friends and your boyfriend comes over and drenches you like a golden retriever 

has a dorky horse pool floaty that he named Bartholomew 

would give his life for Bartholomew. 

always knows when to refill your drink so you’ll always have a cocktail in your hand 

he makes drinks STRONG (speedster metabolism)

like 99% alcohol, one spritz of juice STRONG

sometimes he forgets you do not share his insane tolerance and he will accidentally get you wasted 

guards your drink when you go to the bathroom/in the pool and takes it SO seriously

even if he wears sunscreen he’s still gonna burn ngl (sorry to waste your time)

he WILL be a whiny baby about it for the two hours it takes for his burn to heal

if he gets drunk he will try to run across the water to show off 

he WILL create a tidal wave so please do not let him 

also tie his shoelaces together so he can’t drink and speed

he takes very good care of you when you’re drunk 

secretly switches your drinks out for water and gaslights you about it 

“What do you mean ‘watery’? I just tasted it and it’s super strong.”

no matter how late the party goes/early it ends, you will somehow be out till three am with him

every. single. time.

Summer Suntacular | Masterlist | DC Masterlist

[pandapetals]

Girls Night

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

You, Jean, Ororo and Rogue have a girls night out.

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

"You sure Logan’s actually gonna let you go out tonight?" Jean asked with a teasing smirk, her eyebrow raised as she slipped on her jacket. The four of you were gathered in the entryway, getting ready for your long-awaited girls' night out.

You shot her a playful glare, pretending to be offended. "Excuse me, Jean, but you act like Logan controls me." You crossed your arms, tossing your hair dramatically over your shoulder. "He doesn’t let me do anything. I am a free woman."

Jean snorted, clearly not buying your performance. "Uh-huh. Right. It’s not like the last time we went out, he showed up at the bar because he was 'in the neighborhood,’" she said, making air quotes.

"Exactly!" you said, wagging your finger at her. "He just worries I’ll drink too much. Which is ridiculous, because I have amazing self-control." You paused, thinking about the last girls' night when you may have ordered four margaritas in quick succession. Okay, maybe three of them. And maybe you had texted Logan to pick you up because the world had started spinning slightly.

Ororo sighed dramatically, pulling on her coat as she entered the conversation. "Must be nice to have husbands who look after you." She gave a mock swoon, placing the back of her hand on her forehead in a theatrical pose. "Meanwhile, I have a cold bed to return to."

Rogue laughed as she grabbed her purse, shaking her head. "Oh, come on, 'Ro. Your cold bed and my lonely couch could be worse." She nudged you with her elbow. "At least we get to live vicariously through her romance novel life."

"Logan is not a romance novel," you said, though your cheeks flushed at the thought. He was more... action-adventure with occasional grumpy declarations of love. "And besides, I’m not even that tipsy when we go out."

The three of them exchanged a look—one that made you cross your arms defensively.

Rogue raised an eyebrow. "Honey, the last time, you were tipsy enough to challenge a guy twice your size to an arm-wrestling contest."

"To be fair," you replied with a grin, "I won."

"You won because Logan walked in, and the guy backed down immediately," Jean pointed out, rolling her eyes. "And Logan looked like he was two seconds away from dragging you out of the bar."

You shrugged, an innocent smile on your face. "Hey, I’m just saying... it’s not my fault people take one look at Logan and lose all their confidence."

Storm chuckled, slipping on her gloves. "I’ll give you that. Logan does have a way of keeping the peace. Or starting a brawl."

"Depends on the day," you added with a smirk. "And how many people have annoyed him by noon."

"Alright, ladies," Rogue said, grabbing her keys and swinging open the door. "Let’s get this show on the road before she has to call Logan for a rescue."

You shot her a look, ignoring their laughter as the four of you made your way out the door, the cool night air hitting your face. It was going to be a great night— no Logan rescues necessary.

Fast forward a few hours, and you had definitely lost count of the number of cocktails you’d consumed. The music at the bar was pulsing, your laughter blending with the beats as you leaned on Jean’s shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. "I’m fine, " you slurred, waving away her concern as you took another sip of your drink. "I’m not... not even that drunk."

Jean exchanged a look with Storm, who was sipping her own drink far more responsibly. "Mmhmm, sure," she said, though her tone was amused. "You know, if you want, I can text Logan to pick you up."

You blinked at her, suddenly wide-eyed, like she’d just suggested the most scandalous thing in the world. "Text Logan? Noooo, " you said, drawing out the word dramatically. "I’m an independent woman. I don’t need no man to rescue me!" You stumbled slightly as you tried to get off your barstool, nearly knocking over a stack of napkins. "Oops."

Storm laughed, shaking her head. "We should probably get you home before you cause more chaos."

"No, no, no!" you protested, holding up a finger. "I need to tell Logan somethin’. Somethin’ important."

"Oh no," Rogue said, looking equal parts entertained and concerned. "What kinda 'important' are we talking about?"

You waved them off, standing a little straighter, determination in your eyes despite your wobbly legs. "I need to tell him... that I love him."

Jean raised an eyebrow. "You are aware he already knows that, right? Since you two are, you know, married. "

"Yeah, but I haven’t told him enough lately," you insisted, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, as if the world needed to hear this secret. "Logan needs to know. He needs to know how much I love him."

By the time you finally stumbled back to the mansion, helped along by your very amused friends, Logan was waiting for you in the dimly lit entryway. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, with a look of mild amusement and exasperation on his face as he watched you sway your way through the door.

"Hey," he drawled, his lips curving into a smirk. "Had a good time?"

You pointed at him, your finger wobbling in the air. "Logan!" you announced as if you’d just discovered him standing there. "I have somethin’ really, really important to tell you."

Jean stifled a laugh behind you, and Rogue elbowed her, both clearly entertained by the scene unfolding.

Logan pushed off the wall and took a step closer, his arms still crossed, though his eyes softened when he saw your flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. "Yeah? And what’s that, darlin’?"

You stumbled a little closer to him, grabbing onto his shirt for balance as you looked up at him, your face earnest. "I love you," you said, with the utmost seriousness. "Like, so much. You’re my favorite person. Did you know that?"

Logan’s smirk deepened, and his hand came up to steady you, his fingers brushing gently against your arm. "I had a feelin'," he murmured, his voice low and warm, full of affection.

"And you’re handsome," you added, your words slurring slightly as you poked his chest. "Like, really handsome. It’s a problem."

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. "Sounds like you had a few too many, sweetheart."

You shook your head, wobbling slightly. "Nope. Just enough to tell you the truth. The real truth. I love you." You pointed at him again, this time less wobbly. "And I’m glad you’re my husband. Very glad."

Logan’s eyes softened even more, and he pulled you gently into his arms, cradling you against his chest. "C’mon," he said quietly, his lips brushing the top of your head. "Let’s get you to bed."

You nodded against him, your eyelids already growing heavy. "Okay," you mumbled. "But just so you know... you’re my favorite."

Logan chuckled again, his voice low and full of warmth as he led you upstairs. "Yeah, darlin'. I know."

As he tucked you into bed, pulling the covers around you, you smiled sleepily up at him, the last of your words slipping out in a whisper. "I love you."

Logan leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Love you too," he murmured, watching as you drifted off, the smile still lingering on your lips.

[silken-moonlight]

okay, here me out :

a seductive vampire women, who likes to get men to “hook up” at her place, pretend she’s gonna give a blowjob but actually bite and feed off of his dick (bonus points if she kills them from blood loss, maybe collecting some for later)

do either of you this what you will (though, idea would be she meets a female reader who she actually falls in love with and tries to get in a real relationship with)

I love this. My mind is wild about this. Lets get into it:

Female Vampire Seductress x female human reader

Warning: Mention of violence, sexual assault and murder. Abusive language

Don't like, don't read. Mdni as usual.

Lethia was a huntress. She loved the chase, the rip, and the thrill of a kill. It was in her nature, in her genes, since she was a vampire. Turned around 110 years ago, in her mid-twenties, she had always been the life of every party she attended. She was popular in vampire circles and clubs, with friends all over the world and constantly changing partners of any species. Lovers for a night, strangers in the morn.

Lethia had a special way to feed and hunt...Walking into clubs, catching the attention of a man who had ill intentions for her. Sometimes they put something in her drink, sometimes they made her drunk and carried her out of the club. Since humans were unaware of the existence of vampires, it was easy. Like this, Lethia got to kill someone who was human scum and saved some other girls by doing that. Sometimes she chased them when she bared her teeth, sometimes she just attacked them and drained the men, sometimes she felt mean and bit their dick off, spitting it infront of them and letting them bleed out when she didn't feel like drinking their blood. All of them begged to be merciful, yet none of them were merciful when the situation had been switched.

She has made a Sport out of it, using the Internet and nasty Forums to find the worst men in her city. Currently she was hunting a man named Dave Cornwell. The self proclaimed 'Bitch Rider'. Filming and assaulting the girls, then sharing it with his followers. Tonight, he would be her victim. A grin adorned her face as she found him in the dark club. Currently he was trying to flirt with a girl who looked absolutly uncomfortable to be here and talked to. She slumped over, falling into his arms.

"Sorry..." she slurred, walking quickly away. The man, Dave, followed her. "Hey, babydoll, do you want a free cocktail?" Lethia turned with a big grin. "Yes! Something sweet like me, please." He laughed and slung an arm around her, bringing her to the bar. The bartender mixed them two cocktails. Lethia tried not to scrunch her nose at the disgusting smell of sweat and alcohol coming off him. "Such a pretty thing, are you all alone?" He asked her, his gaze dark and lustful. "Yep, friends left me." Lethia lied, takimg the drink. There was already a drug in it, the barkeeper was in on it. Such things didn't work on Vampires. So she drank it in one go and they went to dance.

After a moment she pretended to become drugged and he carried her out. He carried her into a dark alley and thre her onto the ground:"Such a bitch. Getting caught by the bitch rider." He said and grabber her hair with one hand, unbuckling his belt with the other. Lethia was about to attack him, but a voice disturbed them.

"Hey asshole!" You screamed, walking over, looking so scared vut putting a brave face on. "Take you hands off her! Now!" You yelled, you hands on something little and pink. Lethia saw that it was a taser.

"Two bitches tonight? I am blessed." The man said letting go of Lethia to grab you. But as soon as he was close to you, you tased him. The seemingly little taser was so strong that he fell to the ground. You tased him again so that he stayed down. You heart was running so fast, Lethi could here it from the distance.

"Are you okay?" you asked, looking Lethia up and down. Lethia decided to continue playing along, liking your attention. "No..." she said, looking up at you with her dark doe eyes. "Let's get you somewhere safe," you said and helped her stand up. Lethia clung to you, leaning her head onto your shoulder. "My savior..." she crooned as you walked with her to a car. You looked worried instead of flattered. "This is my car. We're going to sit inside, okay?" you said and put her in the passenger seat before getting in as well and locking the car.

"Can I call someone for you?" you asked while turning on the heat since her skin had been much too cold for you. "No, I'm all alone," she answered, looking at you from the side. "Okay... Then how about I drive you home?" you asked her, still trembling from the scene you had witnessed and the adrenaline from stepping in. You were so afraid your taser wouldn't work. "I would like that. I live on Forwell Street, number 23." You started the car and began to drive. "How do you feel?" you asked her softly, concerned for her. "Better... I think I'm sobering up. I'm Lethia..." she said hesitantly. It wasn't often a girl or somebody had stepped in. It was surely the first time someone was tasered in front of her eyes.

"I'm Y/N." She heard you say as she admired you from the side. You looked over at her and gave her a gentle smile. Her beautiful, curly brown hair was a mess, and the little black dress she wore left little to the imagination. "Do you want something to put over yourself? You must be freezing," you asked. Lethia nodded, hoping you would give her a hoodie of yours. You smelled so good to her; she loved your perfume. "Grab behind you. I have a hoodie there." She did that, grabbing the desired hoodie from the back row and putting it on. It smelled like you and looked so wonderful on her. Little butterflies fluttered around in her chest. You were so cute and caring.

You arrived at her home, helping her out of the car. "Can you come with me...please?" She asked and you nodded. You walked her to her apartment in the second floor. She unlocked the door, a very modern and tasteful. "Home sweet home..." She said and you giys walked inside. She slumped on the couch and you sat next to her. She leaned against you, saying softly:"I know its strange but...can you stay the night? I don't want to be alone..." She asked. You were suprised but nodded.

"Yeah no problem, I understand that you don't want to be alone." She smiled an hugged you:"Thank you for saving me..." Lethia whispered, pretending to be all sleepy. "You're tired." She nodded and leaned more against you. "YLets get you make up off the." You said and you guys ealked into the big bathroom. There was so much make up and skincare everywhere. You quickly found some make up remover and washed away her make up, she loved it. The attention was so good, so pure and honest. You cared for her hair, detangling it with a curl comb and putting oil and curl cream in it before braiding it into a loose braid. After that you took of your make up as well.

Lethia rook you into her bedroom, changing infront of you. She wanted your attention and for you to look at her body. You averted your gaze, giving her privacy. Her undead heart beat fast....you were amazing.

It only took a few more moments, she comvinced you to sleep in her bed with her, to realise she wanted to keep you. Now, that she was cuddled up so close to you and safe.

You were safe, you were good - and now she would make your hers.

[wreckedandpolemic]

friends - george daniel

(mdni) titled for friends by the japanese house, for reasons that will become apparent. part of the bartender!au and promptober75 2024. 2246 words.

warnings: drunk sex, daddy kink, oral (f receiving), praise, v mild degradation, voyeurism/exhibitionism

George takes a long, slow drink of his beer, and you fight to keep your thoughts under control when he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “That’s good,” he remarks, passing you the cup. “We should start stocking that,” he adds, and you scoff.

“You’re not the bar manager yet,” you tease. “Who put you in charge of what we stock?” But you eat your words seconds later, sipping the beer cautiously. “Oh, fuck. That is good.” You drain the rest of the pint eagerly, tugging George in for a kiss that gets a little indecent.

You spend an hour or two wandering through the park with one of your hands laced through George’s; the other is clutching a pint glass like it could escape your grip. Your shoes are caked in muddy grass, your nose red from an early-October chill you can’t feel through the alcohol coursing through your body. George is remarkably sober by comparison, having, for some reason, only sampled each of the drinks before passing them straight to you. You giggle as George tugs you onto a bench, passing you a box of cheesy chips and shaking his head fondly. “You’re hammered,” he laughs, and you pout.

“Am not,” you scoff, kicking his shin under the table. “Besides, you love getting me drunk. Or d’you not remember shift drinks last week?” you add, smirking as you watch the memory visibly flood back on his face. You’re a horny drunk, and he knows it all too well; he’d been plying you with cocktails all night, teasing you and only bringing you home once you were damn near begging on your knees for it. Thinking back to how he’d thrown you onto the bed and fucked your mouth wildly is making you dizzy and needy, and you turn wide, pleading eyes on George.

He takes a long sip of your beer, the muscles in his neck tensing as he swallows, and you’re suddenly starving for him. “Yeah, sweets, I remember,” he grins, the expression familiar and dangerous. His eyes glint with lust, and he leans forward to speak lowly. “Needy girl. If I take you home right now, are you gonna be good?”

Heart jumping to your throat, you nod. “Mhmm. I’ll be so good for you, Daddy. Do whatever you want,” you murmur, frenzied desire pulsing in your veins. George downs the rest of his drink and gets to his feet, and you follow suit eagerly. You stumble as you scramble after him, and he laughs, catching you and pulling you in for a slow, deep kiss. Body melting against his, you surrender willingly, let George sweep his tongue into your mouth and swallow every drop of the desire pooling there.

The walk back to his flat feels agonisingly long, interspersed with needy, hungry kisses and groping that’s frankly inappropriate for how public you are. The second you’re inside, you kick off your shoes and leave them in a pile with your coat at the front door, clumsy fingers fumbling with the buttons of George’s shirt. He laughs condescendingly. “God, you’re desperate, aren’t you, sweets?”

“Yes,” you moan. “Please, Daddy,” you whine, giving up on his shirt and discarding your own instead, breaking out in goosebumps as cool air brushes your skin. George grabs your hips, slides one hand into your panties, brushes over your clit.

Your entire body jolts, pleasure creeping up your spine as he rubs circles into your sensitive nerves. “You’re fucking soaked,” George remarks, annoyingly casual, and you grind down against his fingers. “Sweet girl needs Daddy to fuck her stupid, huh?”

“Mhm,” you murmur, letting him walk you into the living room and push you gently down onto the couch. When he climbs on top of you, you get a little more purchase on his shirt buttons, finally tugging it free with a happy little sound. Your hands map the expanse of George’s back, locking your legs around his waist as he kisses you hungrily, head spinning with a combination of alcohol and desire and a lack of oxygen.

His fingers find the button of your jeans, slowly pulling them down your legs and leaving you in just your underwear. “How do you want it, sweets?” George asks, sliding a hand behind your back to unhook your bra and grinding his hips down against yours. You can feel his cock straining against you even through his jeans, whining as he leans down to suck on your tits. His tongue is sandpaper-rough over your sensitive nipple, and you forget he’s even asked a question until he nips at you gently and repeats it.

“I wanna— fuck, George— I don’t wanna do any work. Just wanna lay back and feel good. Please?”

George grins down at you, slides your panties down your legs and tugs off his jeans and boxers in one movement. As ever, your mouth starts to water at the sight of his cock, hard and flushed and dripping, and you arch your back needily. He pins your hips back down against the sofa. “Ah-ah-ah,” he chides. “You wanna lay back and get fucked like a little princess, y’gotta let me do all the work, okay? That means staying nice and still for Daddy, yeah?”

“Okay,” you murmur, widening your legs a little so George can fit himself between them, brushing the head of his cock against your clit and covering your mouth with his. “Mmh, please,” you whine, arching your back as he kisses the tip of his cock against your hole teasingly. You’re whining and begging, his instruction already forgotten in a haze of desire and lingering drunkenness. 

George doesn’t seem in the mood to make you wait for it, though, filling you up in one fluid, delicious motion. It always takes you a minute to adjust - he’s so fucking big - but you’re quickly back to begging desperately. “Needy fucking girl,” he says, fingers coming down to rub your clit. “Yeah, I know y’are. S’okay, sweets. Gonna fuck you just how you need, promise,” he murmurs, pulling out of you and slamming back in all at once.

Crying out, you wrap your legs around him and rake your nails down his back, panting hard into his mouth as he fucks into you relentlessly. “C’mon, Daddy, harder. I can take it,” you plead, head thrashing back and forth and hips grinding down against his.

“I know you can, sweets,” George croons, kissing your neck and circling your clit. Pleasure rolls over you as he fucks into you, deeper with every thrust, so deep that you’re almost choking. Wet, obscene noises fill the room, mixed up with sounds of pure pleasure; yours pitchy and drawn-out and his low and staccato. Screwing your eyes shut, you lose yourself in sound and sensation, the weight of George’s body on yours, the sweat sliding between you, the pure ecstasy spilling under your skin.

Heat spreads through your body, your cunt aching gloriously where George slams his hips into yours, groaning into your mouth as you clench around him. “Fuck,” you moan against his lips. “M’close, Daddy,” you whine, driving your hips down with abandon and carelessly chasing your high.

George’s fingers speed at your clit, his callouses rubbing quick, tight circles that bloom into unbridled pleasure racing through your blood. “Fuck, I love this pussy so much, sweets. Gotta make it cum for me before I fill you up, yeah? C’mon, baby, cum all over this dick. S’all yours, you know that, right?” He buries his head in your neck, still fucking you in a wild, unpredictable, perfect rhythm. “You feel so fucking good,” he almost whines, your cunt pulsing at his words.

You’re fucking throbbing, so close you can almost take your climax in your hands, reduced to a babbling, pathetic mess under George. He’s kissing and licking and biting your neck, your eyes rolling back in your head, and all at once it’s just too much. You break apart, your entire body disintegrating at the seams, melting into a puddle of pure euphoria in George’s palms. A scream of his name echoes off the walls, and you dimly feel his cock pulsing inside you, painting your insides white as he gasps against your lips.

“Shit,” you breathe, gazing into George’s eyes as you come down from your high. “Fuck, I think that’s some of the best sex we’ve ever had,” you laugh, sighing happily as he bends his head to kiss you, sweet and sloppy and lazy.

George works his way down your neck, lips roving over your chest. He takes your nipple into his mouth and sucks gently, and you arch your back and squirm at the sensation. “Fuck, I wanna eat you, sweets, please,” he murmurs, his eyes wide and beseeching. “I need it,” he adds, sucking a bruise into the inside of your boob.

You giggle. “Mmm, okay. Can I sit on your face?” A month ago, you wouldn’t have dreamed of asking that question, but George has made it very fucking clear how much he loves it, how much he’d welcome suffocating in your cunt, and it’s quickly become your favourite way of getting oral. George grins, tugging and flipping you so you’re straddling him, your stomach lurching at the movement. You grind your hips down against George’s abs, moaning at the messy slide of slick and cum smearing between your bodies.

George grasps needily at your hips, pulling you towards his mouth. You shuffle awkwardly up the length of his body, giggling when you almost slip. There’s really not enough room on this sofa for the two of you, but as you lower yourself onto his face, you can’t begin to care. His tongue swipes through your folds, lapping up every drop of his cum as it drips out of you.

“Fuck,” he moans into your cunt, tongue flicking insistently over your clit. You’re still sensitive, already close, and you moan his name helplessly as you grind down against his tongue. The air is thick with sweat and sex, a struggle to pull into your lungs. You grip the arm of the sofa for dear life, George’s tongue fucking in and out of you gorgeously. Head spinning, you arch your back, the blunt pain of George’s nails digging into the fat of your hips delicious. “Fucking love this cunt,” George groans, the vibrations of his words rippling through your entire body, your muscles tensing and toes curling. “Taste so fucking good. Think y’taste even better from this angle, sweets.”

You don’t even have it in you to blush, just tipping your head back and whining needily. “I wanna cum,” you whimper. “Please, Daddy, I need you to make me cum.” George sucks and licks at you with furious hunger, devouring you like you’re his last goddamn meal, moaning like your taste is a fucking delicacy. You’re teetering on the edge, sweet, blissful oblivion reaching out to you, and you’re so, so ready to give in to it.

Then, a key turns in the lock, and you freeze. George either doesn’t hear or doesn’t care - it’s likely some combination of both, and mostly the former - grabbing at your thick hips to try and urge you to keep moving. You’re stock-still, eyes locked on the door as it swings open, Matty’s face contorting into a near-comical mix of lust and horror when he spots you. A silent flash of something passes between you, and he smirks as George drives his tongue deep into you and pulls a gasp from your lips. 

A sweaty, grease-stained tank top clings to Matty’s chest, a hint of his tattoo just about visible. Unmistakeable, too, is the line of his cock just starting to fill out his jeans. “Shit, don’t stop on my account,” Matty laughs, making no move to leave the room. George, ever the exhibitionist, takes that as a fucking challenge. And you’re so fucking close that you can’t hold it back, can’t do anything but close your eyes and let your orgasm overtake you. Knowing Matty’s watching sends a dirty thrill up your spine, this orgasm somehow more intense than your last. Whimpering and gasping, you can’t even find it in yourself to feel self-conscious; it just feels too fucking good. Your eyes crack open to see Matty palming himself through his jeans, subtly grinding against his hand as you cum against George’s mouth.

He’s gone when you’re back to Earth, climbing off George with a shocked sort-of laugh. “I can’t fucking believe him,” you giggle.

“He’s just come off four clopens in a row, he probably thinks he’s hallucinating,” George snorts, pulling you on top of him and kissing the taste of you into his mouth. You swallow greedily, moaning a little as he swipes your sweat-soaked hair away from your face. Then, he seems to sober slightly. “Does it bother you? That he’s, y’know, the way he is? ‘Cause I can talk to him about it, if you want,” he offers.

You smirk wickedly against his mouth. “You’re sweet. No, it doesn’t bother me. Actually, I think it’s hot as fuck that he’s in there, getting himself off, thinking about us. Don’t you think that’s hot?”

George grins. “You’re so filthy,” he says admiringly, pulling you to your feet and steadying you when your knees buckle. “C’mon, sweets, we need a shower.”

You relax into him, stretching up to kiss along his jaw. “Only if you let me suck your dick in there.”

[becomingfoxes]

The air is sticky-hot as he weaves through a mass of tangled bodies. Tries to tamp down on the beat of his anxious heart as it threatens to bubble over with each door he open-closes. Each time his shouts go unanswered. 

Feels the knot loosen, fall slack when he finally finds her. Curled up in a tub of all things. Eyes wet, glazed from too much alcohol, mascara dripping. Closes and locks the door behind him, steels himself for whatever this is.

“Robin.”

Her head lolls to the side, squints her vibrant blue eyes. She grins. “-evie, you found me!”

“Yeah, you, uh- what’s going on? I saw Vickie leave.”

He watches as her lips tremble and oh no.

He’s dropping to his knees before he can blink. Leaning over the tub. She’s gripping a bottle of something, like it's the only thing holding her afloat. Steve reaches, pushes her sweaty bangs from her face.

“Hey it's okay, you're okay.” He folds his arms over the rim of the tub, settles in. “What happened?”

“Nothin’. Just lemme be drunk in the, uh, bathtub. ‘s cozy.”

“It doesn't look very cozy. If I'm being honest.” Steve sits with her, the music outside muffled by the closed door. He waits, watches as she cradles the bottle tightly to her chest, the way her lip continues to tremble.

“‘s just not fair.” She picks at the bracelets on her arm. Steve reaches for her hand, grip loose but there, lest she start chewing on the leather bands he bought her. A habit formed after Starcourt.

“What's not fair?”

“Vickie, she- she got back with Dan.”

Oh.

“And she said, like, She was like-” Steve feels the wetness of her tears drip, drip, drip onto their intertwined hands. “She was so happy Steve!”

“She said I was such a good friend.” Robin sniffs. “I'm the worst!”

“Robin, hey you're not-”

“I am! I'm a terrible friend.” She's sobbing now, body shaking with it. Steve's never seen her this upset before. It breaks his heart. 

“I wanted it to be me.” Her voice sounds so small, so quiet as she says, “It's never gonna be me.”

“Oh Robbie.” Steve pulls the bottle from her. Thinks of a different bathroom floor and molotov cocktails and fire. “You're a good friend.” He hands her some tissue, finds a washcloth, wets it, helps her clean up. 

“So, no Vicki then. So what.” Robin lets out a pained sound. 

“Listen, somewhere out there, there is a girl who's gonna choose you. Who's gonna laugh at your terrible jokes and-

“Not terrible.”

“-listen to you blab on about Latin.”

“Pig Latin.”

“Uh, sure, exactly. Listen to you talk about Latin pigs.”

Robin snorts. Finally cracks a grin. Eyes still shining with unshed tears.

“And she's gonna love you, Robbie. She's gonna love you so much, okay? You'll find her. Or, maybe, she'll find you.”

“You really think so?”

“I promise.” He holds up a pinky for her to take. “Pinky swear it.” And she finally laughs, the sound of it loud and bright.

“Anoth- Another one for the books.”

“What?”

“Bathroom crisis.” 

Steve knocks his head to hers and laughs. “Is that what we're calling it now?”

“Yup, and while we're at it we could add, a, uh, ‘nother one to it.” She's grinning a little too sharply now and Steve is already making exit plans of how to get her downstairs to drink some water. His head is starting to pound.

“Can we not?”

“I've heard some, hmm, rumors. From some very rep- reputable sources.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I heard that you're getting awfully chummy with a certain metalhead.”

“Nope, we're not doing this.”

Hah! Erica says you've been reading him The Hobbit. Stevie! The Hobbit. And!” She jabs a finger into his chest, “That you offered to take him to physical therapy.”

Steve feels his cheeks heat as he pulls her from the tub. Knows she notices from the way she clings and shrieks in his good ear. “Let's keep the crises to one a day please. Or rather once a month. A year even.”

“Tomorrow then?” Robin's grin lights up the dark corners of the bathroom, radiant as the sun. 

“Tomorrow.”

[magicandpizza]

19 👀👀 I feel like it can go any direction and I am excited to see which direction you take it in

Hello! There was only one possible direction for me :D

19. “You’re pretty.” “You’re drunk.”

A rare night off finds Jesper and Wylan making the trip from the Geldstraat to the Crow Club to enjoy a few drinks with some of the other Dregs. 

Inej is in town again, and Jesper quickly loses his merchling to her and Nina, the three of them huddled together on their own little table, sharing a pitcher of something an alarming shade of pink.

“Fold,” Jesper says, chucking his cards onto the table in front of him. He’s not gambling, not with money anyway. Kaz would never let him for a start, and the Dregs know better than to tempt him. Instead they’re playing with expensive honey candies that Anika acquired. 

The game ends and Jesper collects his winnings, heading to the bar in search of another drink. He finds Kaz there, ostensibly keeping an eye on everything, but mostly just staring at Inej. 

“Happy she’s back?” Jesper asks and receives a scowl in response. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

“Your boyfriend is hammered,” Kaz says, eyes flitting over to Wylan as he woozily stands up from the table along with Nina, the pair of them heading towards the bar. 

“So? He’s having a nice time.”

“If he throws up on my floor, you’re cleaning it.”

Jesper rolls his eyes, looping an arm around Wylan’s waist once he gets close enough and tugging him in against his side. His cheeks are flushed almost the same colour as the mysterious cocktail he’d been drinking, and Nina isn’t faring much better. Nevertheless, he hears her order another pitcher of their drink.

“Hello, darling. Are you having fun?” Jesper asks, pressing a kiss to Wylan’s rosy and warm cheeks.

Leaning heavily on Jesper’s arm, Wylan tips his head back to gaze up at him, expression adoring. “You’re pretty,” he says, a sappy smile plastered on his face.

Jesper laughs, fond. “You’re so drunk, Wy. What have you been drinking?” 

Shrugging, Wylan says, “I don’t know, but it tastes good.” He leans in closer, a little unsteady on his feet, and presses his face into the hollow of Jesper’s throat. His next words come out a little mumbled. “You wanna know a secret? I’m gonna marry you one day.”

Heart fluttering, Jesper can only say, “Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Wylan hums, apparently unaware of the life-altering news he’s just dropped. “Not just yet though, gotta wait for the right time.”  

“Right,” Jesper murmurs, brain stuck on a loop of Wylan wants to marry me.

[herejusttosufferalong]

Oooooook for science and for my own sanity at this point I needed my partner perspective/POV on L&N (and a bit of 🐜 too). It was only supposed to be a quick conversation with me showing him a few videos and call it a night buuuuut we actually did a bit of a dive armed with a lot of cocktails and appetizers (ladies this restaurant can welcome our best friends/partners/husbands - he switched from being totally uninterested by my rambling to fully dissect Luke’s body language at the end 😂)

Anywayyyyy - We are both a bit drunk but here goes nothing:

- London nterviews (me) : see??!!? Not only her space is his space but they flirted like there is no tomorrow they are driving me crazy

- London interviews (him): i don’t sense any feelings but It’s clearly giving “you are my best friend but I want to see your panties and fuck you right seven days a week” for him. Her? Idk she seems to have friend zoned him

———

- Italy (me) : this is the weirdest stop of this tour. Weird vibes all along right? I don’t get it he couldn’t stop laughing uncomfortably?

- Italy (him): she clocked him about something I fear. He clearly fucked up before the day started or the day before and she is showing him she is not to be played at. And it worked imo. That girl has this man at her feet

- Italy (me): so he is in love with her at this point?

- Italy (him) : now that I am seeing more interviews I think he has been in love for a long time but play the friend card until she gives him any indication she wants more. Idk about her though she is harder to read

————

- Brazil (him) : ok they fucked. Next.

(Me dying here 😭😂😂😂😂)

- Brazil (me): how do you know??!

- Brazil (him): they were dancing around and were quite shameless at it and the following day? Both have the “properly fucked” glow.

————

- Ireland (me) : married couple behavior here. What in the “you are only my best friend but I am overly emotional about you meeting my family” is this non sense?

- Ireland (him): oh I can finally see what you are seeing about her I agree she looks down bad here. Don’t know what happened but they both seem at the same page now.

————

I showed him the pictures (QG photos, papgate etc) and he said “who is this? His sister?” Not gonna lie it almost took me out 😂😂😂😂😂 when I said it’s his actual girlfriend he went “meh i this girl is his fuck buddy he is clearly not interested in giving here the girlfriend treatment in anything you showed me. He is biding his time until the girl he actually wants to be his GF gives him the time of day”.

So for him, he has been harboring romantic feelings for Nic for a long time (and it’s more apparent the more time passed) and he is playing the waiting game. And for him Nic was harder to read but at the end of tour as we all agree something changed and the mask slipped and she is clearly in love too. Although I don’t think they crossed the lines he is very vocal on the fact they crossed the line in Brazil 🫠

Thank you for participating to my Ted talk haha (will do the same with my gay best friend soon - so we can have more insights).

There is a consensus among the men 👀

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Night Moves 3

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, stealing, crime, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

The music hazes and the lights blur. You’re not drunk, you never drink much on your night out, only pretending to sip the cocktails men buy you. No, you’re mindless from the man beneath you. Your walls clench around him and you let out a moan. 

You’re achy from how long he’s been inside you. Still, he hasn’t cum. He stopped fucking you a while ago. He just keeps you on his lap, thrusting ever now and again to make you twitch. As you think of it, he does it and you brace the table to keep from keeling over. 

The coloured lights flash in a strange pattern and he tickles your sides. He leans forward, his head next to yours as his sultry breath speckles across your skin. He reaches between your legs and flicks your cunt. 

“Last call, sweetheart,” he eases you off of him and you whimper.  

He slides you onto the seat next to him and you whimper as he tucks himself into his briefs. You grab your purse and he reaches to grip your wrist. You gulp and look him in the eyes. They’re as blue as the ocean. 

“I didn’t say we’re done,” he lifts a brow, “don’t make me chase you.” 

He lets go and sits back, zips up, and buckles his belt. His chest rises and falls and he peers around confidently. He’s so damn brazen. He was buried inside you for at least an hour, sitting there balls deep, and he can only smirk. 

“Come on,” he stands and snaps his fingers. 

You stand and sidle out from behind the table. He quickly catches up to you as you face the thinning dance floor and slings his arm around your back. He walks you between the drunken bodies. 

“Am I under arrest?” You ask. 

“That wouldn’t be much fun,” he grits as he strides on. 

You’re quiet. You won’t push it. You still have hope you won’t be headed down to the station. You can’t afford the fine to get out, even after all you took that night. They’d confiscate it anyway. 

“What’s a girl like you doing lifting wallets?” He asks as you pass through the front doors into the cool night air.  

You scoff as your heels clack on the pavement, “gotta eat.” 

“Sure, sweetheart,” he hums, “look at you,” he does just that, glancing over, “any man would hand over his salary just for a night with you.” 

You snicker sardonically, “hah, you men... you all assume it’s so easy for women. That any one of us can just get by on our looks. You think this hair is free, this lip gloss?” 

“Sweetheart, I’m not assuming, I’m telling you,” he keeps you walking. 

“Sure, whatever, “ you shake your head. “You’re right, I’m gonna change my ways, sir, and find me a rich old man and let him fuck me til his heart gives out. Maybe then, I’ll get a taste of his fortune.” 

He chuckles and stops you by the curb, just beside a dark blue sportscar, “where do you live?” 

“What?” 

“Where do you live?” he asks slower. 

You blink, “Oxbury.” 

“How many rooms?” 

“Huh?” 

“Answer the questions.” 

You huff and look away, “it’s a bachelor loft. Everything’s in the same room.” 

“How much do you pay?” He prompts. 

“What does that matter? Are you going to arrest me or can I go?” 

“Sure, you can go after you answer my questions,” he insists. 

This is surreal. Only minutes ago he was inside you. You were shameless sitting on his dick and now he’s interrogating you about where you live. 

“Two grand. It’s a rip off but nothing’s cheap around here.” 

He narrows his eyes, nodding as he pokes the tip of his tongue out. 

“I’ll give you double. Just for tonight.” 

“I’m a thief, not a prostitute,” you frown. 

“That’s not what I’m...” his cheek dimples and his lashes flick, “not just tonight. Tomorrow. I’ll find you a new place. Something nicer. Something with big windows.” 

You shake your head in confusion, “what do you mean?” 

“We’ll get you settled and when we come back here,” he steps closer and reaches around your neck to check the tag on your dress, “I’ll have you in Gucci.” 

You search his face as he steps back. He’s arrogant and certain. You’re not. You’ve been caught out and you can’t afford to say no. But what if you do? 

“Do I have a choice?” You voice your doubt. 

“Not really,” he exhales, “there’s two options; my place or the station.” 

You close your eyes and cringe. That’s about what you expected. You flutter your lashes open and wet your lips. 

“It wasn’t bad. We both know it wasn’t. I still got your cum on me,” he tugs at his belt, “and I’m backed up. You can’t leave me like this.” 

Your cheeks burn. As much as you want to say no, on principle, on what little pride you still have, he makes you tingle. You tried it with the wrong man but there’s something right about him too. You can’t remember the last time you orgasmed that wasn’t off something battery-powered. 

“How do I trust you?” 

“I could ask you the same,” he counters. “This isn’t trust, it’s convenient. You need money, you deserve money. Luxury. Girl like you, shit, whew, I’ll make sure you got everything those tricky hands could never steal. You just gotta keep me happy.” 

It still feels wrong. You’re still selling yourself. Yet, it isn’t exactly your worst option. Jail or sugar baby? It’s obvious but difficult nonetheless. 

“Do I have to say it out loud?” You ask. 

He grins, “well, I’d like to hear it. Come on, my ego needs it.” 

You arch your brow and cross your arms, “alright, I’ll do it. Deal.” 

[makeyoumine69]

18. "aw, it hurts? too bad. you're gonna keep taking it until i’m satisfied." btw- can you add this prompt to the Patrick catching the reader fingering herself request, if you dont mind,

HAPPY 1K!!!!

Hello, thank you so much for your positive vibes and your request, I hope you like it! 🖤🤞

— [MASTERLIST]; [1k Followers Celebration Masterlist]

Every morning you loved to watch your husband work out; the way his buff muscles flexed awakened something primal in your gut and you couldn't help but bite your lips from the strong excitement.

That morning, you subtly snuck into his living room and found him doing stomach crunches, watching small drops of sweat outlining his solid body. You gasped but didn't dare to move as you stood in the doorway to his bedroom, feeling the tight knot forming in your lower abdomen.

Damn it, there was no way you could resist the carnal desire this man evoking.

After a while you were sprawled on his big bed, your legs spread wide as you played with your suddenly oversensitive bud, while another hand worked on your engorged nipple, rolling it and pinching it slightly. Fuck, you only watched him for a few minutes and that was enough to get you so turned on. Panting, you threw your head back on the pillows — the faster the strokes became, the harder it was for you to keep quiet, not to mention when you pushed two fingers into your wet pussy.

You were sure that your heavy breathing would soon be heard in every room of his apartment, but you didn't care as your orgasm was about to wash over you like huge tidal waves.

"Why am I not surprised that a slut like you can't even wait until I've finished my workout?"

Patrick's raspy voice bounced off the walls of the room and as you leaned up on your elbows you saw him standing across the bed with his hands clasped over his chest.

Panting, he brushed away his sweaty curls and groaned: "Don't stop now, kitten."

"Patrick…" Was all you could manage to mutter, your fingers still buried deep inside your blushing slit.

You couldn't help but open your legs even wider so that he could see you fingering yourself with a slick, nasty sound. Closing your eyes, you didn't notice him climbing onto the bed beside you as you sank into the ocean of pleasure, but it still wasn't enough. And Bateman knew it, so he groped your tits through your short top, squeezing them one by one before grabbing your hand and making you pull your fingers out of your pussy.

"Mmm, w-what are you doing?" You whimpered from the feeling of emptiness.

"Let me show you how to do it right," he crooned into your ear, pulling you closer to his heated, huge frame. "If it were my fingers, you would have cum several times by now."

"That's very arrogant of you to say that and -"

Patrick didn't let you finish your statement as he shoved his thumb into your mouth while his skilful fingers worked their way down to your soaked cleft. All you could do was squeal pitifully as Bateman finally reached your dripping entrance; at first, he only inserted one digit, but then he added two at once, forcing you to squirm in the sheets as he found your spongy G-spot too damn quickly.

"See?" He chuckled mockingly as he began to curl and twist his fingers in perfect rhythm. "Already clenching."

You didn't even want to argue with him that you were already aroused before he got here, all you could think about now was his thin fingers stimulating your most sensitive spot so deliciously that you thought you were going to bite his thumb until the blood ran out.

"Ahh…mhm!" Your miserable attempts to moan through his thumb only amused him and encouraged him to finger fuck you even faster, rougher and deeper.

"Awww, it hurts? Too bad, you're going to take it until I'm done with you!" Patrick growled loudly into your ear and slid his thumb further into your mouth, almost scratching your throat.

This wild cocktail of pleasure and pain made your head spin as if you had drunk a bottle of whisky. With a smug grin, Bateman kept pumping your throbbing pussy until he felt your inner muscles encasing his fingers so tightly that he let out a cheeky chuckle, but he never stopped fingering you:

"Awww, I like those cute little sounds you make when you cum," he murmured, holding you possessively in his strong arms as you trembled too uncontrollably. "You should be grateful that I haven't punished you for touching yourself without my permission, my bratty girl."

Patrick was mostly speaking to himself, as you couldn't even form a word at that moment, your inner channel still spasming vigorously around his fingers, and you didn't even notice what a wet mess you made around you, because you simply were not there.

I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[latoyalestrange]

I love your writing could i request a Sebastian x fem reader where the reader and Sebastian go to a Slytherin party together and the reader gets a little to drunk and Sebastian takes the reader to his room or the undercroft and takes care of her.

oh my god this is such a cute ideaaa. i love free labor. thanks for the inspo, pookie.

you fill up my cup

s. sallow x f!slytherin!reader

what a cute gif btw. i imagine they would hand out cocktails like this. also side note please look up what mens underwear looked like in the 1890's. i took one look at it and i was like hell no lmao. so he's wearing longer boxers in this.

summary: you accidentally have a bit too much to drink at a slytherin party. even while practically incoherent, you are all over sebastian, and he thinks it's so fucking adorable.

words: 0.7k

warnings: fluff, drinking, swearing, not edited!

one thing you could do while drunk is talk. merlin, you could go on for hours if everyone let you. it wasn't the annoying kind of excessive talking, but it was a drastic difference to what you were normally like. you weren't shy, but it was hard to be yourself around people. being intoxicated helped tremendously with that, completely ridding your mind of that precautionary filter. but there would come a point where the liquor got the best of you, and you would suddenly become this sickeningly sweet love bug that clinged to sebastian's side and would stare at him adoringly when you weren't talking his ear off.

he did anything but mind, though. in fact, he did the opposite. although he wasn't fond of getting more than tipsy, he agreed to go to every party, mostly because you wanted him to and he lived to make you happy, but partly because he eventually got to see this side of you.

"sebastiaaaaan," you drawled lovingly at him. he chuckled, looking down you meet your heavily lidded eyes peering up at him. you had an undeniably goofy smile on your face.

"yes, love?" he fixed your slightly frayed hair with the soft palm of his hand, kissing the top of your head after. you blushed, but tried really hard to focus on what you were saying.

"am i your pretty girl?" he was glad no one was in earshot of the two of you sat on the plush velvet couch, but his cheeks still flushed a bright red.

"of course you're my pretty girl. you're my beautiful girl." his heart could've burst as you perked up at his words. you gasped, smiling lazily at him.

"i am? aw, yay." your head fell to rest on his chest and he tried not to disturb you with his laughter as his arm draped around your back to pull you into him. he started rubbing your back, and he could sense it as your breathing slowed when you slowly started to drift to sleep.

"are you sleepy, baby? we can go to bed if you want." you didn't respond, you only nodded your head as it still lay on him.

"okay, i'll help you to bed, love." he supported your frame as he slipped out from underneath you to stand. he pulled you to you feet and you instantly wrapped your soft arms around him. he kissed your head once more before beginning to lead you to the dorms, weaving through the crowd as he held you up when you stumbled. you nearly fell just outside of your room, sending you into a cackling, drunk mess. he shook his head, trying not to laugh at you.

"what am i gonna do with you, hm?" you couldn't bother defending yourself, still giggling as you starting sloppily removing your robes. he helped you with the buttons once he got tired of watching you struggle. once you were just in your slip dress, you flopped onto your bed and crawled under the thick duvet, relishing in the warmth you missed from your robes. sebastian leaned in to peck your lips and withdrew himself back to the side of your bed.

"you aren't leaving, are you? no, no, stay with me, pleeeeaaase?" you outstretched your arms to him, flexing your hands as they longed for his.

"what about imelda? the whole school will know she saw us in bed together by tomorrow morning." you looked at him with a blank, confused expression for a moment, silent. he quirked his head at you, curious.

"okay? and i care...why?" you teased. he rolled his eyes and scoffed lightheartedly.

"fine." his innocent lips curled into a smirk as he started on his own robes. once he was down to his shorts, he slipped under the blanket with you. you were instantly much more comfortable as he settled in behind you and wrapped his arms around you. he felt so lovely and warm holding you. it was dreamy, truly.

"i love you." you sighed with satisfaction. he kisssed your bare shoulder and nuzzled into your back.

"i love you, darling. sweet dreams."

reblog if you made it to the end!

[empressofmankind]

Hooked On You

[Crocodile x F!OC]

Explicit with a capital E

Word count: 1.7k / 5 pages

(A/N) Featuring Crocodile and Shivs when they were still a thing. I don't know what force of nature even kept these two together. Actually, I do. Its shared and unresolved heinous trauma, and coping through mutual enabling with a side dish of codependency. They have so many problems. Gambling problems. Drinking problems. Marital problems. Who's gonna tell them sex isn't therapy? I am counting on you, Robin.

This is the same time frame as 'The House Always Wins', so ten years prior to the actual story and likely after hours at Rain Dinners. There's a joke in here somewhere about trouble in Paradise - literally, as that is where Arabaste is located. I haven't a clue in which larger fic I will stick this, but it is likely a long way off and it felt selfish not to share it.

Tag(s): Absolutely inappropriate use of that hook. Does it count as foreign object play? Probably. Its not a knife but I am going to say knife play because it is a stabbing weapon. I am sure the knife crowd is down. Thoroughly drunk sub, though he ain't sober either. We get a whiff of that daddy vibe of his, too. Obsessive and controlling behaviour? Definitely. Edging? The worst. Begging? Totally. Absolutely filthy language. I keep forgetting how foul-mouthed he is. Some mild degrading? Yes. What else? Are they still dressed? Yes. Married? For better and for much worse. Size difference? Still relevant. Power imbalance? Yes, she's so drunk. And so horny. He could turn her any which way rn.

My sincerest apologies for this title being the worst pun known to man, but the besties were asnooze and I had to make do.

🐊 🐊🐊

Hooked On You

“Ssh,” Crocodile said, his eyes hooded as he gazed down at Shivs, sprawled in his lap and across the couch. Her sparkly cocktail dress hitched up to her waist, showing off dark stockings against pale thighs. Who knew where she'd lost her heels? He stroked a red bang from her eye. It gazed up at him, large with need and drink. Again.

“Careful, honey,” he rumbled as his gaze lingered on her bare pussy. Watching her labia part against the smooth metal as he gingerly ran the tip of his hook between them. Felt her shudder, heard her quiet, plastered moan as her legs twitched towards each other. He didn't like it when she drank this much. “Keep those pretty thighs apart or you'll hurt yourself.”

He spread her open with two fingers, her inner folds slick and shimmering with her juices already. And touched the curved tip against the small, moist folds concealing her entrance. The breathy huff that drew from her fogged his thoughts with hazy lust, the ravenous beast within him stirring from its slumber. She was such a needy thing, and he wanted to see it. Wanted to see her eager little hole contract around the metal, grip at it with no hope of finding purchase. Watch her sweet juices run rivulets down its curve as she came for him, and only him.

She rolled her hips, and he stopped her promptly. Her protesting whine was as slurred as her speech had been. She squirmed, but he kept her put. His hook wasn’t sharp, per say, but it would not give in the way his cock would if she foolishly shoved her needy little cunt into it.

He waited till she stilled, fingertips brushing the edge of lace between stocking and thigh. When he dipped the cool tip between her moist inner folds, her legs twitched further apart for him. And the gluttonous creature inside Crocodile burred happily, devoured the pretty sight. He lightly, carefully, dragged the tip along her inner walls, searching for the sensitive spot just a little ways inside of her on memory alone.

A whimper, when he found it.

Her pitched moan as music to his ears when he stroked it again.

“Oh-ah!” 

Her hands shot down, weakly, drunkenly, scrabbling at the metal as she tried to tug him closer, feel more, feel everything, just the way she would if it were his fingers dug knuckle deep into her moist cunt. But it wasn’t.

“Shh,” Crocodile shushed against her red hair as he gathered her wrists away before she hurt herself with her blind need. She glanced up at him with such drunken lust that he almost forgot he was upset with her.

“You’ll hurt yourself if you’re not careful,” he said, his hooded gaze on her parted lips, her panting breaths. And kissed her as he pressed the tip of his hook against that sweet, sensitive spot, gradually increasing pressure until she squirmed in his lap and moaned into their kiss.

“What is it?” he whispered against her bated breath as he paused and devoured the garbled, indecipherable plea that spilled from her lips. “You want me to fuck you with it? Is that what you want, doll?”

“Y-yes, p-plea-ah!”

Her precious mewls and the way she writhed in his hold with barely contained need spilled like gasoline onto the smouldering fire of his own desire.

“I can’t do that, honey,” he said as he gingerly guided it deeper, tracing the inward curve of her tight vagina, a passage he knew so well. “It’ll hurt you.”

She twisted in his lap and he had to pin her hips down, palm flat against her belly, to stop her rocking into his touch. She absolutely could hurt herself with her reckless, drunken actions.

“N-need. You-ah,” she whined in a tone that made him so hard. Made him want to toss her around, pull up that firm ass and fuck her sopping pussy full of cum like she deserved. A low, guttural groan clawed its way from his throat as he pressed her narrow hips down, pushed her butt unto his aching cock as he held her put. He wrestled the rapacious beast down, but only just. 

Soon, he promised himself.

“G-gim. Me. Ah-shole,” she complained. Her hands fisted into the cushion and the fabric of his pants, her knuckles bright and bruised.

“Ts-tsk. That is no way to talk to your husband.” He carefully withdrew his hook, her slick cunt making a delicious noise around the metal. “Don’t I take good care of you, sweetheart?”

“N-ngh-eed,” she whined as he slid the tip back into her with a smooth, languid push that followed the curve of her tight passage as far as it would go. “N-need you. T-to-oh-OH!”

“To what?” He mused against her hair as he stroked her lower belly, watched the muscles there clench and tremble at the lightest touch. The urge to bury his cock into her warm, snug hole clawed at his sanity like a living thing. He needed to have her. But he wanted to see. Wanted to watch her cramping pussy grasp at the metal as she came for him mewling his name. 

“You need a little help?” Crocodile said as he traced his fingers down to her pubes. “Is that it, doll?”

Shivs nodded, fingers digging into fabric and his thigh, barely managing a reply. “Y-yuh.”

He ran his fingertips in broad, lazy circles around her sensitive bud, never quite touching it. “You need a little help to make your sweet cunny make you feel so good?”

“Y-yes.”

“Why should I? You’ve been nothing but trouble.” He slid his middle finger down through her wet folds, teasing the hot, slick skin where his hook dug into her sensitive, pliable hole. “Tossing patrons, wrecking the floor, ransacking the bar. Why should I reward that kind of behaviour?”

“Am s-so,” she babbled as she arched her hips towards his touch. It felt good. Bad. Better than she’d ever thought it could.

“What was that, doll?”

“Am s-sor,” she wheezed as his thumb ghosted across her clit. “Ror-ry.”

“Didn’t quite catch that.”

“I s-said I am s-sorry!”

“Are you?”He teased her sensitive bud, delighted in the way she twitched, the way her toes curled. “Such sweetly false promises from my darling wife.”

“F-fuck you, C-croc-odile.”

Her fist came at his face half-heartedly, trembling from drink and desire. He caught it and pressed kisses against her bruised knuckles. “Yes, you will.”

When he reached down to rub his ring and middle finger across her clit, her fist latched onto his shirt, her fingers digging into the expensive fabric as she arched into his touch and hook, both, with the loveliest raw cry. He relished how much she wanted it.

He gathered her closer to him, keeping her hips locked against his own to stop them moving. He massaged her needy bud firmly, rubbing his fingers roughly against her the way he knew she craved. “Say my name again.”

“Hnn. Mmm. Croco-dile,” she whined drunkenly.

A deep grunt escaped him, his cock throbbing beneath her as he rubbed her aching bud between his fingers. He drew his hook back, lightly caressing the tip along her inner walls, searching. 

“Again.” 

“Croc-oh-dile!”

He could tell from her pitch he’d found it. The spot he knew would make her see stars.

“Once more?” he rumbled into her ear as she trembled against him, so ready to reward him. To show him what he wanted, needed. He watched her tether for a breathless moment, watched her slick pussy clench around his hook. Then nudged her across with a sudden, sharp tap into that sweet, sweet spot.

“Cro-oh. Ah! Yes!” she wailed, and he savoured the way his name broke as she lost it.  “P-plea-uh. Yess!” 

He struggled to keep her trashing in check as her orgasm ripped through her. Forcefully pinned down her narrow hips as they bucked against his firm grip. He kept the pressure on her little cum spot, rubbed her clit through her peak. His hungry gaze fixed on her sopping pussy, watching her tight hole spams around his hook. Her sweet cum gushing out, running down the slick metal and dripping from its curve.

She was perfect like this, and all his. 

And always would be.

“My darling wife is such a pretty slut, and ever so sweet to me,” he murmured into her ear as she calmed down, her panting breath slowing, steadying. The sweet trembles racking her body subsiding. “Able to cum on anything I put in her needy little hole. Even my hook.”

He drank in her blissful, fucked-out look as she gazed up at him through heavy lashes, the caress of too much alcohol lingering behind her flushed cheeks and bright eye. Her lips were parted, an edge of teeth visible. 

He withdrew his hook, and groaned at her meek whine and the way she reached for it. She was such a needy little thing. The ever-hungry creature within him stirred with a satisfied burr, never quite done feasting on her, devouring her every word, action, noise, sin. 

“You know what I am going to do after this?” 

He brushed her fussy touch from his hook, caught her fingers in his own as he rested the slick metal against her flat belly. The ravenous beast roared, no longer tolerating being ignored.

“I am going to wreck your pretty cunt and stuff it full of cum until you come apart beneath me,” he said as he pressed a kiss against her bruised knuckles, catching her bright, greedy gaze. “You need that, don’t you, honey?”

He didn’t wait for an answer.

🐊 🐊🐊

Horny hell seat reservations - @ruledbyproblematique @littlemountainwolf @fanaticsnail @tiredemomama