#but its fucking impossible i think about this literally every day

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-one of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” ( no cut today, we die like Steph's tolerance for her dad's bullshit ). prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

He should be taking notes, Tim realizes. This is a new and unprecedented level of supervillain behavior that his fifteen-year plan can only aspire to reach. 

“Asdfghjk,” he says, which is apparently actually an actual sound that an actual person can actually make, go figure. Learn something new every day. 

Kon laughs at him, the fucking bastard. Tim would probably swear vengeance but unfortunately Kon looks way too damn pretty and way too damn happy doing it and is not wearing a single thing he didn't buy him and bought him a camera with his first allowance and wants to see him skateboard and has also laughed so many times tonight that Tim is starting to develop the opposite of a tolerance for it. Like, he's getting weaker and weaker to it the more exposure he gets, which is in his opinion total bullshit and totally unfair but is unfortunately still happening. 

. . . well, not necessarily unfortunately, since it’s specifically happening because Kon keeps laughing and looking happy about it, but that’s besides the point. Somehow. In some way. Just–somehow. 

“You’re so fuckin’ cute, babe,” Kon says, grinning at him again. He keeps doing that too. He keeps laughing, and grinning, and just–just all these things that Tim is not prepared for and honestly doesn’t even know how he could’ve been? There’s having five minutes of prep time and there’s situations that are just impossible to prepare for because how could he have fucking KNOWN. How?! How could he ever have?!?!

Literally not possible, Tim is certain. 

“You’re actually incorrigible,” he says, quickly flipping his dropped board onto its wheels with a foot and then giving it a quick pop to the tail and hooking a foot underneath it to kick it up into his hand. Kon looks delighted, his eyes immediately lighting up. 

“Sick!” he says. Tim felt like maybe he was getting in a win for a second there, except Kon being genuinely delighted is actually even worse and he thinks he’s just, like, kind of screwed in general now? Kon’s not supposed to be genuinely delighted by things, he’s supposed to pretend to be too cool to be impressed or just jealous that someone else is getting attention! 

Tim really, really could not have ever been prepared for this. 

“So like, do you know any cool tricks?” Kon asks with a wider grin, still looking way too genuine about his excitement. Tim is resigned to ruining his best non-funerary/non-gala slacks and possibly also his shirt and definitely also his dignity. His dignity is as scuffed as the shoe he just dropped his board on, and frankly that’s being optimistic. 

Extremely optimistic. 

“I know a couple okay ones,” Tim says, since Robin-level parkour doesn’t count as either “tricks” or anything he could show Kon, and also he’s screamingly out of practice, and also he was never really that good a skateboarder even when he had the time to do it regularly, plus skill decay is a thing and– 

“That mean you’re gonna show me a trick or two, daddy?” Kon asks, grinning slyly at him.

[skippingseaglass]

people are my religion and this is fucking blasphemy

[fleshdyk3]

god i fucking hate my dad

[scattered-winter]

anyone else up feeling utterly overwhelmed or nah

[gibbearish]

speaking of terraria ive spent the last few days grinding my way through it for the first time in i think like over two years and i forgot. so much but also im doing SO much better than before

[hightaled]

my schedule and my classes are so fucking awful and i am filled with more contempt and vitriol than ever this year

[nexus-nebulae]

damn i actually had a pretty good streak there of not having bad insomnia days. that's pretty impressive for me like i haven't really had one since early January

[rainbowtvz]

i can. technically. afford to do paypal pay in four for the thing but i would have like no money for my trip. i have no way to make up like 900 bucks right now. not without completely draining both my acorns and my checkings/savings.

[loonylupinblack3]

Period Trouble

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: swearing, nothing else i think?

Summary: you wake up with your period and are forced to go on a mission with Logan of all people

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: literally obsessed with this man rn so ofc i had to write about him. also wolverine has enhanced senses including smell but its like…. barely shown in the movies so i had to search it up to be sure, and some part of me still doubts it but for the purposes of this fic he does have it

You woke up with a groan, immediately curling into a ball. You were early. You were early and you hadn’t emotionally or physically prepared for having your period today, yet the world seemed ready to punish you, burdening you with an early cycle.

You checked the time, cursing every god and deity you knew when you realised you were supposed to have woken up half an hour ago. Wincing, you got up, your body screaming at the movement. Already your stomach was aching, the ghosts of cramps to come caressing your body. 

There was knocking at your door, quiet yet firm. You already knew it was Storm on the other side of the door, no doubt in search of a reason why you failed to get up on time. It was going to be a long day.

You yelled out to Storm, promising to be out in five minutes, and got up, groggily looking for your clothes. When you’d tamed your hair and brushed your teeth, you exited your room to find Storm waiting on the other side, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

She took one look at you and sighed. “What are you wearing?”

You looked down perplexed. “....my clothes?”

She raised her eyebrow. “You’re on a mission today, remember?”

Fuck. You nearly let out a whine. You were not in the mood to go skulking around doing Xavier’s bidding when you had a constant throbbing pain assaulting your stomach, unreasonable mood swings, and exhaustion weighing you down.

Storm sent you a questioning look. “You up for this?”

The mission was nothing big. Professor X needed you to collect some sort of rare herb that had recently been shipped into the nearest city, something he needed to complete a super secret experiment you weren’t privy to. He’d just asked for help and you’d volunteered.

Oh how you regretted that decision now.

“Yeah I’m fine,” you muttered. “Let me just get changed real quick.”

Getting into your previously decided upon outfit, a plain inconspicuous one intended to blend in, you left your room again, this time with no complaint from Storm. Your stomach gave an uncomfortable clench and you sighed, making a mental note to find some nurofen before leaving for the mission.

“Why aren’t you in your outfit?” you asked, just realising Storm wasn’t wearing what you two had agreed upon yesterday.

She winced slightly. “Can’t go. Filling in for some classes.”

Your face soured but you tried not to hold it against her. Storm loved her students, and given the choice of helping them or Xavier with a low level mission, she’d obviously choose her kids. You couldn’t blame her exactly, but it meant you’d have to go on this mission alone, while not impossible by any means it would make it slightly more difficult.

You sighed. “That’s okay. I can go alone.”

When Storm winced even more your eyes narrowed in suspicion, following her with caution. “Storm…..”

She sighed guiltily. “Xavier didn’t want you to go alone. The herb’s too valuable.”

You tilted your head slightly as you entered the house’s foyer. “So who am I going with then?”

Storm’s eyes darted ahead, and you followed her gaze to find Logan Howlett leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He smirked at you, “you’re looking at him sweetheart.”

You resisted the urge to groan, instead sending Storm a dirty look. You didn’t necessarily dislike Logan, but he was a lot to deal with, and you were already tired from your day that had barely begun.

You couldn’t say all that with Logan standing there however, so you muttered a, “lovely,” and walked past the man to the garage.

He followed you silently, no quip or smart ass comment which was strange for him. You’d just entered the garage, heading towards one of the cars, when you glanced back at him and found Logan stopped in the doorway, staring at you with a frown on his face. Or rather, a deeper frown than usual.

“What is it?” you asked him, standing at the hood of the car.

Logan’s eyes roved your body, searching for something. “You’re injured.”

It was your turn to frown. “What? No I’m not.”

He took a step forward, almost as if he was planning on looking for your alleged injury himself. “Don’t bullshit me Y/n, I can smell your blood.”

You made a face. “What are you talking about…..” you trailed off when you realised it, perhaps the most mortifying moment in your life.

Logan could smell your period blood. He thought you were bleeding from an injury. 

You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

He scoffed, walking towards you until you were face to face. You tried to step back and felt the hood of the car against your legs. “I can smell the fucking blood seeping out of you Y/n. I wouldn’t call that fine.”

You gritted your teeth to stop yourself from snapping at him. “I can assure you, I am not injured.”

You moved to walk past him but he caught your wrist, forcing you back into your position pressed against the car. “If you think I am going on this mission with you while you’re wounded, you’re out of your mind.”

“I’m not-”

“Do you think I’m an idiot darl? Is that why you’re denying being hurt while I can literally smell it on you-”

You cut him off. “I’m on my period, Logan.”

He paused, staring at you with an indecipherable expression on his face. You waited for him to speak, feeling embarrassed and furious about it. Why should you be embarrassed of your period? He was the one who was pushing you, prodding you, forcing you to tell him the source of the bleeding. If your answer made him uncomfortable, that wasn’t your fault nor your concern.

Eventually he spoke. “Alright then. Get in the car. I’m driving.”

You scowled at him. “Says who?”

He didn’t even bother looking at you, already in the driver’s seat. “Says me.”

You sighed but didn’t argue further, silently getting into the passenger seat. Logan started the car, reversing it out of the garage and driving down the long winding driveway till you got to the street.

“It’s an hour's drive to the city, give or take,” you told Logan, setting the GPS up on the car.

Logan barely glanced at it, eyes on the road, a firm grip on the steering wheel. He didn’t even respond to you. You sighed and turned away, looking out the window as the scenery passed you in flashes.

As the drive continued, you noticed Logan sending you glances every now and then. If you really focused on them, you’d almost say they seemed worried, concerned even, but they were always too quick for you to tell for certain. You were too preoccupied with your cramps that had started up anyway, and the lack of nurofen you’d forgotten to grab.

Finally, you arrived at the city, driving into the hustle and bustle of the crowded area. Logan’s hand tightened on the steering wheel, obviously not a fan of the traffic the city provided. You watched the stream of people through the window as Logan looked for a space to park, muttering under his breath.

You were mildly entertained at the amount of road rage he had, cursing every car that wasn’t at least 10 metres over the speed limit. His jaw was clenched, hand fisting the steering wheel, yet he still looked at you here and there, like you were actually wounded.

When he eventually found a parking spot the two of you got out of the car and you looked at the address Xavier gave you.

“Should be somewhere along this street,” you murmured, eyes flicking from the piece of paper to the busy street.

Logan moved behind you, so close you could feel your back against his chest, and looked at the paper in your hand. He let out a grunt and moved past you, walking forwards. You frowned and hurried your pace, not wanting to lose him amidst the crowd of people.

Luck was certainly not your side, because soon enough you’d lost him, unable to see his black leather jacket in the throng of people. You hesitated, wondering if you should look for him or just go straight to the address, when you felt an arm around your waist.

“Stay close to me,” Logan murmured into your war, his voice gravelly. “Don’t wanna lose you again.”

You glanced at him as he continued walking, not moving his arm from your waist. “How’d you find me?”

He gave you a smirk. “Followed the smell of blood.”

Again you felt your cheeks heat but you glared at him defiantly, refusing to be embarrassed. He smirked at you, flashing his teeth, as you arrived in front of the address, a plain building home to some sort of florist. 

Logan finally took his hand from your waist, walking to the door with you trailing behind him. A bell gave a little jingle as you entered, and you were immediately assaulted with the smell of flowers. Different sorts of plants took up every corner of the room and Logan’s face soured as he looked around, obviously not pleased with the environment.

An old woman sat behind a desk, watering a plant with a mini watering can. You walked up to her, Logan hot on your heels. When you stopped in front of the desk Logan was so close behind you you could actually feel his chest against your back.

“Mrs May?” you asked.

The old woman looked at you with a smile, her eyes crinkling. “That’s me. What can I help you two lovebirds with? Bouquet of roses? Lilies?”

You opened your mouth, surprised, and tried to find something to say. Being mistaken for a couple shouldn’t have affected you so much, especially while on a mission, but you were flustered and could still feel Logan’s chest right against your back, his warmth almost dizzying.

“We’re not here for flowers unfortunately,” Logan spoke, saving you. Except why didn’t he specify you weren’t a couple? Did that not matter to him, what some old lady thought, or did he enjoy the idea of being thought of as your boyfriend?

Oh god. What were you thinking? Stupid period hormones. 

The old lady looked at you two curiously. “Then how can I help you?”

There was a pointed silence and you realised Logan was waiting for you to speak. You cleared your throat and spoke the random sequence of words Xavier had you memorise, that would inform Mrs May just what type of buyers you were.

The woman’s eyes lit up with recognition and she nodded her head slowly. “Ah, yes, let me just go to the storage room quickly, I’ll be back….”

Mrs May tottered around the desk and through a side door, half hidden behind the multitude of plants covering the area, leaving you alone with Logan.

You took a step away from him and turned around to look at him, finding him staring at you with a frown on his face.

You frowned back at him. “What’s up with you today?”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “What is up with me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed Darl but you haven’t exactly been up to par yourself.”

You rolled your eyes at his words. “That’s not what I meant, and besides, I’m on my period.”

Logan stared at you, arms crossed. “What did ya mean then?”

“You’ve been acting strange. Less talkative and annoying like usual.”

Logan snorted. “Ever the lady.”

“I’m serious. What’s up with you?”

Logan sighed and took a step forward until he was towering over you and you had to crane your head up to look at him. “You are what’s up. I can constantly smell you bleeding, and I can’t get it out of my mind that it means you’re hurt. You’re driving me crazy sweetheart.”

Well…. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting. Logan smirked down at you as if he knew that, and enjoyed surprising you. You cleared your throat as your eyes darted to the floor. “Well, that’s hardly my fault.”

Logan chuckled. “Not your fault no, but it is your doing whether you mean to or not.”

You swallowed, looking back up at him. “Well…. Don’t you constantly smell when people are on their periods?”

“It’s different with you. Smelling your blood just drives me crazy, plain and simple. Can’t get the instinct out of my head that blood means injury.”

The way Logan was admitting all of this, with such calm, made you think he’d been wanting to say this for a while. The unspoken confession was there, and it was up to you to decide what to do with it.

“I’m glad you care,” was what you landed on, unsure of what else to say.

Logan chuckled again, one hand snaking to your waist. “I do a lot more than care, Y/n.”

You smiled softly, looking up at him. With his other hand he brushed your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The sound of a door closing brought you out of your little bubble and you took a step back, Logan reluctantly letting go of your waist.

Mrs May, either not having seen you two or graciously deciding to ignore it, passed you a package, informing you the herb and all information involving it was inside, and to handle it with care. You nodded and thanked the old woman before exiting the building, Logan again right on your heels.

As soon as the shop’s door closed behind you Logan’s hand was back around your waist. “Not losing you this time.”

You tried not to smile, though internally you were grinning like a maniac, and let Logan lead the two of you back to the car. You didn’t even get to argue your case of driving this time, Logan already in the driver’s seat. You sighed and got into the passenger seat, resigning yourself to another hour of silence as Logan started driving, when you felt his hand on your thigh.

You looked at him but he didn’t say anything, just gave it a light squeeze as he kept his eyes on the road. You looked away, grinning. So maybe the world didn’t have it out for you after all.

[hello-sweetheart]

You know that trope where Person A thinks Person B is just being nice but they’re actually flirting. What about the opposite? Person A misreading their behavior and being the only one falling impossibly in love.

Clumsy in Love Part 2

It’s hard to listen to Eddie talk about this guy the same way Steve wished he did about him. Eddie, already so full of life and words, doesn’t seem to need to take a breather between his praises.

“Can’t believe this guy is actually into me, did you see him? Oh my god!” He groans and smacks his palms against the steering wheel, literally bouncing in his seat.

The van swerves a bit to the left.

“He’s just my type, too. Those eyes, prettiest eyes that have ever graced human existence, and they were looking at me. Me! Wow! The darkest green— I don’t think there’s any precious stone that can compare actually.”

He beams at him and Steve’s traitorous heart still flutters like a wounded bird helplessly flapping its broken wing. Eddie is smiling so hard his cheeks must hurt, eyes crinkled at the corners and teeth on full display.

Steve will close his eyes at night and replay these words, pretending that this excitement and instant adoration is about him. That Eddie’s love-struck smile is for him.

“And, to top it off, he’s a geek. A fucking nerd. He actually knows DnD! What are the chances, Stevie? I’m no religious man, but an angel must have heard mine desperate pleas.”

His name is Adiel, Eddie’s perfect guy.

Steve spends that night feeling the need to cry, the hurt is right there at the base of his throat refusing to spill.

Steve kind of wishes he did, maybe letting everything out would leave him feeling empty instead impossibly full of heartache.

Adiel is blond, a dirty blonde that means he must’ve had light locks as a kid. Face slim and cheek bones prominent, but his features are soften by button nose. Maybe Eddie is right, he looks like the angels depicted in stained church windows, but whereas angels are depicted in white, Adiel wore exclusively black.

He wasn’t decorated in rings and chains like Ed, only a few silver piercings in his ears and a couple on his lips. But it was evident they had much in common, even just by looks. More than Steve could ever say about him and Eddie.

Over the next couple of weeks they share their music, intrinsically understanding what it means to one another.

Getting it.

Getting it the way that Steve never could, even with hours of Eddie breaking it down for him. Maybe Steve never understood, but he loved those moments shared between them. Wonders if Adiel cherishes those moments too. If he takes it for granted.

They share everything with each other and Steve hears every little detail gushed between sickly sweet sighs. He’s trying to be a good friend, to listen and share Eddie’s happiness, but something inside him grows bitter. Angry. He hates feeling this way.

“I met his friends already, they’re a really cool bunch. I really think you guys would get along. They know all the best spots for people like us. There’s a whole world out there, Stevie—“

Stevie. His breath stutters.

“Of people like us with places for us. We could take Robin and Vicky and be surrounded by people that won’t, that won’t think we’re… wrong. And who knows,” he nudges Steve’s side with a suggestive smile, “maybe you’ll meet the one there, huh Stevie?”

“Stop. Just, just stop!”

Steve doesn’t mean to yell. He just can’t take it anymore. Everything that has been building up inside him has reached a point where he just can’t. He pushes Eddie away from him who looks startled. Offended and bothered and confused.

“I don’t want to meet his friends, or least of all him. I don’t get it, okay! I thought—“

What did he think? That one day he would confess to Eddie or vice versa? That they’d kiss and go on double dates with Robin and Vicky? That he would fall asleep each night in love and loved? It seemed plausible at some point. That’s what hurts the most.

“Hey, Stevie—“

“Don’t call me that! You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

“What? Your name? You don’t want me to call you by your name?”

A bitter laugh, “yeah. My name from your mouth.”

“I, You’re not making any sense!”

Steve knows. He knows. But Stevie, Big boy, Ozzy… even his own name, can’t bear to hear them. Not from him. Can’t bare the way his heart squeezes.

Eddie’s looking at Steve with furrowed brows and down turned lips, standing still. Has Eddie ever been still before in his life?

Once. When he was still and pale and red. His chest gone quiet for the most terrifying seconds of Steve’s life.

Steve looks at him, his eyes burn. Steve’s breath from his own chest brought Eddie back to them. Eddie’s lungs still carry his desperation. His ribs healed but the cracks must still be there from the palm of his hands. He’s tasted Eddie’s blood before from his mouth—

He’s kissing him. Steve, dumb stupid in-love Steve, has his lips on Eddie’s once more, but this time they’re warm and full of life and his ringed hands are on him and,

They’re pushing him. Away.

“Eddie,” his sight is blurry, eyes hot, and breath stuttered. “I, it hurts. You with him. I can’t—I just can’t.

And Eddie looks, terrified, dark eyes searching Steve’s face. For what, he does not know. Sincerity, maybe. Truth. Maybe looking to see if he’s really shattered inside.

“I’m sorry, I… I didn’t…I don’t…”

And Steve?

Steve smiles. It’s watery and his lips quiver.

“I know.” And that’s the problem, isn’t it. It’s always the problem. “I know, Eddie. I’m sorry. It’s, it’s okay.”

Eddie leaves Steve there in the living room.

There’s still two cans of Coke half full on the coffee table but only one person left in the room.

Part one < 💛 > Part 3

Tagged: @bananahoneycomb @margaglitterdeath

[hon3y-y]

your choso has rewired my brain...literally cant stop thinking about popular reader who has a new bf every week x virgin nerd choso who despite his inexperience has every intention to leave you dumb on the end of his cock. He even lets you slap his books down and talk shit about him with your little girlfriends in public, but behind closed doors you're the one crying and begging him hdjsjs definition of 'send her back to her bf w my handprint on her ass' aaaaa and if its a love story, it turns out chosos had the fattest crush on her bc he knows shes actually a sweetie at heart but loves her toxic side too and gives her the best dick until she stops playing around like THE REVERSAL 😭 he would be so sweet in his own way and so loyal and a fucking dog to her lowkey but covers it up with mean words and pussy slaps 🥺

Nerd!choso has a special place in my pants heart😵‍💫

Cw; nastyy smut, filming, infidelity(👀), choso is a little pervy but that’s why we love him🫶, talks of bodily fluids, reader is a lil mean

Enjoy<3

After the first time you fucked, he was extremely a little mad about you dating someone the next day (especially since it was his first time and you knew that) but quickly forgot about it once he had his head between your legs later that night, your mouth babbling nonsense when he sucked a little too hard.

He would purposefully leave hickies on your chest and thighs, smiling cheekily as he watched your shakey legs try to dress yourself. “Don’t look at me that way," you mumbled, your usual attitude gone and replaced with shyness under his intense gaze. Yeah, he didn’t have to worry.

Choso let's you get away with everything. the laughing, the pushing, and the taunts about how “small” he probably is from your friends (to which he nearly smirks when you stiffen slightly). He goes along with all of it and even watches you tongue-fuck your stupid boyfriend, who’s likely one hard hit to the head away from permanent brain damage. But he can’t stay mad; you look so cute trying to be tough. Eyebrows furrowed and a little hiss in your tone, knowing that the moment everyone disappears, you’re nothing but a sobbing mess, begging for him to touch you.

You’re in his room later, bent into a mating press, gasping for air as his cock clumsily batters your g-spot. “Yes—fuck, cho! "Your skin feels so hot, and your mind is so numb. Choso is nearly just as loud, already cumming two times, but watching you made it impossible to pull out. A sticky mess of both your fluids caused gooey strings to form whenever he moved away, the erotic sight making him pull out and reach for his phone. “W-what are you—"

You tried to sit up when the light of a camera flashed in your eyes, making you gasp before he tilted it down, focusing on your pussy. “Look at how wet she is.” He reaches out to touch, making your hips jerk in sensitivity. He plays with your wetness, making your cheeks hot, showing off the substance to the camera before placing his finger on your hole to tap at the new cream that seeped out.

You went to pull your legs closed. "E-enough, Choso." You sent him a glare, making him laugh before leaning down to kiss your cunt. He pointed the camera up to catch your shocked face, and you glanced at it again. “Why are you filming this? I never said—"

You squeal as he nips your clit, immediately shutting up but sending him a harsh glare. He kisses your thigh at your compliance. “Do you really not want me to?” He stared up at you, putting little pecks on your bud, making your breath hitch. You shook your head, ‘no’, “fuck, I don’t care, just make me cum,” you whine, pushing his head down. You jolt up, your eyes widening, when you feel the stinging slap on your pussy.

You’re about to speak when he does it again and again, each hit harder than the previous one, a yelp of surprise escaping you as he forces the light in your eyes again, making you squint. “You’re such a slut, it’s almost pathetic." His harsh words make you pout, mumbling about how mean he is. “I’m mean? Tell the camera why you came here.” You bite your lip, looking away, causing him to grab your chin and force you to look. “I’m not asking.”

It feels humiliating: “He couldn’t make me cum.” Your voice is quiet, but you could practically feel the cocky smile on Choso's face. “Who’s he?” You want to die, shaking your head. He rolled his eyes, tapping on your cheek to signal you to talk. With a sigh, you repeat yourself, “My boyfriend couldn’t make me cum.” Choso mockingly coos behind the camera, his thumb going to rub your swollen bud. “And how many times have you cum since getting here?”

He pans the camera back and forth between your needy pussy and pretty face, your sweaty skin glistening under the intense lighting making his cock impossibly harder. You look so delicate, just helplessly taking the pleasure he gives you because your body needs him so bad. Tears gather in your waterline whenever he applies more pressure, eyes zeroing in on the slick that starts to drip down your ass.

You can’t answer, your jaw hanging open when he quickened his pace. Your chest is heaving as you chanted out ‘please!’ hips thrusting up to meet him until you quickly cum with a shutter, choso slowing but not stopping as you relax again. You look up to the camera with a tired smile, holding up your hands to signal four, your eyes could barely remain open, head flopping back into the pillow. your eyes are getting heavy, nearly having you succumb to sleep when you feel his tip align with your cunt. “Flip over, slut.”

He forces you to film yourself as he pounds into you from behind, crying when he leans down to tug at your sore nipples. He forces your back to arch more, pathetically taking his cock into your swollen pussy. If you drop the camera, he’ll wait until you pick it up again. Or, he’ll snatch it from your hand to catch you desperately rutting against him, begging him to let you cum and “fuck you right." He does just that, leaving you with a fried brain and a puddle of your own drool, tears, and juices from how intensely he made you squirt.

Honestly, he’s so horny and has so much stamina he’ll just keep going until he’s shooting blanks, making sure to point the camera at the cum that leaks out of your puffy cunt, spreading your lips so it can closely get your gaping hole. Of course, after he’s had his fun, he’ll gently take care of you. You’re practically sleeping already, barely being able to speak as he nods along to your near incoherent praise, “S'good t’me. Luv you so much."He smiles, a giddy feeling in his tummy, as he holds a water bottle to your lips, which you gulp down quickly, not realizing how dehydrated you really were. He tucks you in, cuddling as you grip onto him tightly.

It’s not long after that you stop seeing the guy you were with, or any for that matter (at least, according to your friends' knowledge). When they ask what happened, you just shrug, making up some excuse, trying not to stutter as the vibrations in your panties speed up. Choso watches closely, smiling happily as you try to discreetly roll your hips<3

A/n: I need him so bad it’s getting to me. Also, send request bc writers block is a btch. Mwah💋

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - can’t sleep

you just can’t sleep without your husband next to you (i hope my spanish was okay)

Maybe it’s your cycle, maybe its just the fact that you’ve been literally working all day for the past 3 weeks, but you’re tired as shit. The bags under your eyes are almost purple, your entire body hunches over like a zombie when you walk, you barely have time to think nor speak to anyone else besides your husband. The entire building is lowkey worried you’ll snap one day. 

Even Miguel is worried. Much how you like to do to him, Miguel’s been constantly ushering you to rest a little, borderline bribing you with nice takeout or some kisses to get you to sleep. But, to no avail. your sleep schedule is genuinely fucked. 

You’re cranky, hungry, and sleep deprived. 

At the moment, Miguel doesn’t really know where you are. Considering your current state, he thinks you’re out on a mission, or at least somewhere in the office. 

He’s already tried walking through the entire office just looking for you. He checked the cafeteria, gym, hallway, etc. muttering, “Where th’fuck are they?” But, you were nowhere to be found.

So, Miguel tries something different. He pulls up his watch, scrolling down to a button that he really only should be using for emergencies, but to Miguel, this is an emergency on its’ own. 

He presses the button, and suddenly his entire face is broadcasted to every single watch in the building. Dramatically, the emergency siren turns on, and all the spider-people are on their feet. 

“If anyone sees my wife, please report back to me asap. Tell her to come see me, I can’t find her anywhere.“

The whole office can see Miguel rub a hand over his face, visibly both annoyed and tired. Everyone starts looking back and forth, tilting heads and making sure that you didn’t just happen to be around somewhere. Once the camera turns off, though, nearly the entire building starts chuckling. 

It’s crazy how much Miguel’s face utterly lights up when he sees his watch ringing without your contact photo. Literally in a split second, he presses the button, opening up a microphone icon. 

“Miguel?“

Ugh, he just loves the sound of your voice. 

“¿Si querida?“

He hears you groan, possibly the sound of bedsheets shuffling, and it pulls at his heart. You’ve been so miserable lately, he just wants to see you back to your happy self again. 

“Come home, now.“

Just the tone of your voice alone put a worried frown on Miguel’s face. (He never likes to admit how much of an impact your emotions have on him.) An ugly, anxious swarm starts to build at the back of his head, making him impossibly nervous. 

Luckily, Miguel knows what to do. 

“Of course, hun. I’ll be there in 10.“

And he turns the watch off, sighing to himself after. He’s a little bit nervous now, fearing as though he did something to upset you, or that you had something serious to talk about when he came home. 

Every step Miguel takes to your shared home brought him closer and closer on edge, worry and theory swirling through his mind. His brain ping-ponged through every single possible reason why you’d want him to come home, especially in such a cranky matter. Maybe you were just tired? Maybe it was because he accidentally gave you a raisin bagel instead of a everything bagel?

By the time Miguel was at the door, his heart was beating erratically in his chest, hands the slightest bit shaky. Stepping inside, Miguel instantly beelined for your shared bedroom, gently opening the door. 

He sees you shuffle around in the covers, his heart secretly swooning. You’re just so cute when you’re half asleep; needy and cuddlier than usual. Already at the bedroom door, Miguel practically rips his shirt off, kicking off his pants and making his way over to where you lay. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, gingerly swiping strands of hair off your face. 

“What is it, hun?“ He coos.

You toss and turn, barely mustering a frown onto your face. Your eyes are half-lidded, tank top almost falling off your shoulder until Miguel readjusts it for you. 

“Can’t sleep without you.“ You mumble, slowly scooting yourself over and draping your arms towards him. Miguel practically swoons, cooing and leaning into your touch. How could he resist such an offer?

“Awh, baby.“ 

He tangles himself into bed with you, breathing the biggest sigh of relief. It wasn’t what he thought it was. You just wanted snuggles. Miguel takes it upon himself to spoil you extra, ghosting his touch over your back and kissing the darling skin of your temple.

Like the thousands of times he has before, Miguel tangles his legs into yours, kneading his fingers into the skin of your raised leg.  

Within a few minutes or so, Miguel feels you knock out like a light, tiny puffs of air escaping your mouth while you fist the sheets like a baby. He sighs, staring at you for a few moments while you sleep. Affectionately, he rubs his knuckles against your cheek, smooching your forehead. 

Miguel pulls a blanket over the both of you, knowing very well that by the time you’re awake, it’ll be completely on the floor. Readjusting his position, Miguel doses off to sleep, allowing himself to completely let go of all the stresses he holds. 

After all, he can’t sleep without you either. 

© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki + lava Quirk!wife (both Pro Heroes)

☆—a.n; i woke up today feeling feisty lol not really xd just wanted some "i'm crazy as you are" type of love today lmao✌🏼🖤

Bakugou Katsuki is obsessed with you.

And he doesn't even try to hide it.

You're his sidekick. You had trained in his Agency since you were a mere brat doing your internship your first year at UA. Of course, there were literally counted the times you had encountered him in person. The other Heroes that joined his Agency were the ones in charge of the kids. They had told you how Dynamight hated when babysitting time came every year, he wouldn't even participate in those actually. So they would advice to not cross his path.

From time to time, Dynamight would watch their sparrings sessions, gave them a bit of advice–more like mean criticism yell at them. But he had better things to do, people to save, villains to get their asses destroyed by him. He was not going to waste his time with annoying brats like you.

He had heard of you, of course. The one brat that could control and handle freaking lava like it was fucking nothing. Of course when he saw you, he thought his sidekick had pulled a prank on him, joking to see if would be excited about the idea of having someone with that type of Quirk in his Agency. You couldn't be the one with the lava quirk. You looked... normal. Quirkless even–if this were other times and if he would judge people about it. He had changed, okay? Thank you very fucking much. But he did think it was impossible that you were that amazing brat the other heroes were talking about. They had even compared you to him, in witty and determination to become the number one Pro Hero on the ranks, in strength and no mercy against villains, or other heroes and classmates.

When he stood right in front of you one day, towering almost three heads over you and almost one more person's size to the side, Dynamight laughed. You looked like a little bunny caught red-handed, terrified by everyone around you–especially by the size of him–and skittish, almost like what Deku had been as a kid.

That should have been a first warning for Bakugou–never judge a book by its cover.

You have trained in his Agency the three years you had been in UA, and he has never once seen you nor your Quirk on display, nevertheless in real action. He had only heard how good you were in trainings from the other heroes. But he didn't care enough to actually sought-after. He was already fighting Deku for the number one spot on the rankings, he didn't have time for brats like you.

Until one day, a dangerous villain, that created enormous monsters of metal almost to the size of a ten flour building, was causing too much disaster appeared. It was more than chaos, it had been a destruction like no other.

Dynamight nor Deku could contain the motherfucker.

He was bruised, his hands beat with agony at the amount of times he had used his blasts and the push to keep going, his body muscles were screaming for him to stop. A quick glance to his side where Deku was, and the guy wasn't better than him, breathing like his lungs couldn’t no more. Every other hero in the scene was in the same shape.

They were fucking losing.

And then, like an angel sent from heaven–or better said, a demon sent from the deepest hell for the way you fucking looked, you appeared in all your majestic glory, lava making you slide in between them, surrounding you like it was nothing, like strings coming from inside your body, and began a new fight with that fucking villain's monsters.

Bakugou saw –an enamored expression on his face– how you your whole demeanor changed, your skin, your eyes, everything in you became so menacingly, so evil looking, so freaking scary, that if you weren't training to be a Hero, he thought you would be one the most terrifying villains of all times –even more than that piece of shit AFO.

The lava was visible in all your body, and you fought, a crazed smile and eyes opened wide, enjoying the damage you were doing to the metal monsters; your joy was shining bright for everyone to see, as you yelled, "DIE, YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!" as the monster melted under your hands and body.

He was captivated, fucking spellbound, by the sight in front of him. He fell to his knees, watching you melt every single one of the monster in one more movement of your hand, as lava flowed towards them, capturing and melting them as you stand straight, the expression on your face serious and deadly. You then walked towards the source, the main villain who was creating this chaos, and the guy literally fell to the floor in fear, trying to crawl away from you in tears. When you stood before him, you crouched to his level, and smiled devilishly.

The villain pissed his pants.

And Bakugou's cock twitched.

He then murmured, "I'm gonna marry the shit out that woman."

Deku chuckled, shaking his head and letting his body fall to ground in tiredness. Everything was okay now.

From then on, you were by Dynamight's side all the time. The second you graduated –Bakugou Katsuki of fucking course attended the graduation ceremony– he offered a job on his Agency for you. And you said yes, even though you had options like Deku's Agency, or Hawk's, and even Endeavor had offered you a big place on his, trying to win you by saying that most of his sidekicks were fire-like Quirks and that his mother had a Quirk similar to yours, he could ask her for advice for you. Bakugou's stomach turned thinking he might had won you over that. But before he could finish the sentence, "Would you like a spot on my Ag–", you exclaimed a big YES, smiling warmly and eyes shining in excitement.

He had to clear his throat and look away at your expression, making something tingle in his chest. Was that his heart?

You became his partner then, in missions, in interviews, in meetings with other Agencies when some big villain appeared and they had to join forces. You were always there, not behind him but next to him.

In interviews he would always let you speak about how everything went and thank every body who helped. But Katsuki would look at you. Look as the lava started to dissipate from your skin, slowly turning down the temperature and going back to your normal color. Your hair that became liquid lava slowly became the color of greyish-black rock and then smoothed its way to your normal texture and color. He always felt mesmerized watching the process, and he would look at it any opportunity he got.

It wasn't until one night out with his old friends that Pikachu said, "Dude, tone down your thirst a lil' bit," in between laughs with Raccoon Eyes and Shitty Hair.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Kirishima patted his back, shaking his head, "Your sidekick, man. The lava girl?"

"What?"

"What we are trying to say," Mina smirked, "is that everytime you look at her, its almost palpable the way you want to eat her."

Bakugou gulped. "Shut the fuck up. I don't look at her like that."

Mina winked at him, "If you say so..."

That night he searched on the internet in his phone for interviews, desperately. Fuck, his friends were right. He did look at you with a fascination and hunger he had never saw himself do. He remembered thinking about marrying you back in the days, but that had been the heat of the moment, right? This annoyed the shit out of him. But watching you again in those videos, as you smiled so kindly to the reporters or other Hero friends or to even civilians while looking so freaking scary when your Quirk was activated, made something stir inside his belly.

Fuck, you're gorgeous. You're everything he didn't know he wanted.

And that's when he decided he would not hide his feelings for you anymore.

So now, a few years after, when you are married to number two Pro Hero Dynamight, people always talk about how your husband always looks at you. How he always encourages you in your fights to "kill those fucking piece of shits, baby!!" as he is very close to you fighting his own set of shitty villains and you encourage him saying "show them who is the number two hero, love!" He looses it then, a blast that ends it all.

They talk about how he would always kiss you after a fight, even after all that adrenaline that makes him want to bury himself deep inside your warmth, he only holds your face gently, gloved thumbs caressing your cheeks lovingly, eyes locked onto each other like the world doesn't exist outside that moment, and he kisses you softly, a simple touch, a cute press of lips that lasts a millisecond so he doesn't burn the skin of his face and lips. And then he pulls one of your hands with his up in victory.

He didn't only win the battles, he won you each and every time he got to simply look at you, be next to you, kiss you.

He is obsessed with you, and he doesn't want to fucking hide it from the world.

[vorishthings]

The Last Delivery

This is my first vore story, and I hope you like it! Let me know if I can improve my writing by liking it, or just message me. If you want more send me some ideas or writing prompts. Enjoy!

It was any average Tuesday. Bryson was hungry. Not hungry in a simple, “I will eat food” sort of way. No, he was hungry for prey. He didn’t feel like going on a dating app and seducing his way into eating his prey, or finding some other convoluted way to go about getting his dinner. He decided to simply call in a pizza and have it delivered to his home. What a simple easy way to get his prey delivered to him. 

Eventually, the pizza arrived at his door, with a hot delivery guy to accompany it. Man, and he is hot too? I love hot prey. Hot prey for Bryson made it all the more appealing for him, as he loved the hot of someone gorgeous becoming worthless belly fat on him. Bryson opened the door, and the delivery guy greeted him. 

“Hello, I have a pizza for a…Bryson?” 

“Yes, that's me.” GURGLE. Bryson’s stomach must have had a mind of its own as it must have known its prey was nearby, and it grew upset in waiting. “Oh, excuse me, I haven’t eaten all day.” 

“Haha! It’s all right! I hope this will satisfy your hunger. One large pepperoni pizza with a liter of soda.” 

“Thank you, wait, hold on for one second.” He took the pizza and the soda bottle and set it down on the table, ran over to his desk and grabbed a ten dollar bill from it. He ran to the door. 

“Here is your tip, and…oops!” Bryson purposefully dropped the ten dollar bill on the floor. “I am so sorry…” 

“Oh no, it is okay. I can get it.” The delivery guy bent down and went to grab the dollar bill from the floor.  

Now was his chance, for his prey was distracted. Seizing the opportunity, Bryson grabbed the delivery boy by the back of his shirt and dragged him inside the house, slamming the door behind him with his foot. 

“Hey, what the fuck was that for? Let me go!” The delivery guy questioned and moved around to get him to let go of his shirt. Instead, Bryson took the delivery guy and put him in a chokehold. 

“Don’t worry, you will be fine…I promise. Just let me do what I need to do, and it will all be over.” Bryson tried to reassure the delivery guy. But the delivery guy was not reassured, and instead acted in a fighting response, kicking Bryson in the balls. “Oh, fuck!” Bryson yelled out loud. “Ok, that is it! You are going in there right now, so you can think about what you just did!” Bryson opened wide, his huge mouth leaking with drool to help maneuver his prey through his esophagus. He quickly shoved the guy’s head into his mouth, and removed his arm from the guy’s neck and put both his hands around the guy’s arms, forcing them to stay to his side. Mmmmfff!  The delivery guy was yelling, but his voice drowned out, as Bryson’s body made it impossible for any voice to be heard clearly from the outside.

Now, Bryson got his head down his esophagus, it was time for the shoulders, and eventually the guy's chest. Bryson was enjoying every second of his prey squirming, and his dick immediately got hard. The same could be said about the delivery guy. The guy’s dick was hard as a rock, and once Bryson got to the guy’s crotch, he started playing with the guy’s dick with his tongue. Mmmmffff! The delivery guy immediately moaned and orgasmed, with a cum stain appearing on the outside of his khaki pants.

Bryson could taste the cum with his tongue, and wanted to continue playing with his prey, but couldn’t, as the guy’s legs grew stiff from pleasure, and he stopped fighting. Pulling the guy’s shoes off of his feet, Bryson seized his chance, put his hands around the soles of the delivery guy's feet, and sent him with one final push to his stomach. GULP! Bryson’s neck bulged as the guy was being pushed by his insides to his stomach. 

“There, was it really that hard?” Bryson asked him. “Well, your job is now accomplished. You delivered my meal straight to my gut. Technically, you are the meal, but the little details don’t matter.” 

The delivery guy was pounding on the sides of Bryson’s stomach. “Let me out! Please! I will let you have the pizza for free! I will do anything! Just please don’t let it end like this!” Unfortunately for the delivery guy, Bryson’s stomach covered the sounds of his words, and it could only be heard as muffled voices from outside. “Oh, fuck! Your struggling is making me hard.”

Bryson’s dick was vibrating from the pleasure of having prey in his stomach. He took out his dick from his pants and started aggressively, pumping. Bryson couldn’t handle it anymore, and thick, gooey cum erupted from his cock and got shot all over his stomach, and the couch. He admired the orgasm he just had, and was too lazy and tired to clean it up. His stomach however, was not lazy, its job was just getting started.  Grrrrrroan. “Wow, my stomach must be having a field day with you in there, my friend.” 

Bryson went to sit down on his couch and took the pizza box that was on his table that the guy delivered. “Don’t worry, I won’t let this food go to waste. Here, why don’t you try some?” Bryson rolled up a pizza slice, and swallowed it whole. Once it got to Bryson’s stomach, it unrolled, making it more cramped and less air was inside of Bryson’s stomach for the delivery guy to breathe.

Bryson downed more pizza slices, and followed it with some sugary soda, which his stomach received with enthusiasm. Grrrrrrrrrrooooaaaaan. “Hey man! Not cool! I can barely *cough* breathe.” He kept punching at the sides of Bryson’s stomach, and it only made it more upset and aggressive.

Bryson moaned. “Just give up, and make yourself comfortable. You can’t escape your demise.” He patted his belly in an attempt to make the delivery guy calm down. “Your life will serve as a matter of sustenance. I mean you did wish earlier that my hunger would be satisfied didn’t you?” 

“What? I didn’t mean me! I meant the pizza, and I…*cough* *cough*” Bryson’s stomach rumbled, as it contracted and splashed acid all over the delivery guy and the pizza. The delivery felt the acid burn through his clothes and eventually his skin. His shirt fell off of him, and so did his pants. He felt himself becoming deformed, and he tried to stop it. He aggressively used all of his might to pound on the outside of Bryson’s stomach, to no avail. He grew weaker and weaker, and eventually, he gave up and subsided to his fate of becoming his customer’s dinner. Well, at least I made a customer happy. At least I did my job right. Sort of. 

Bryson’s warm, smooth stomach walls started squeezing around the delivery guy, mushing him into whatever form it desired, almost like the stomach was playing with clay. Soon, the delivery guy became just soup and miscellaneous piles of flesh and bones. Bryson felt his stomach grow peaceful and quiet. The delivery guy stopped thrashing around his stomach, and his stomach stood still. “What? Gone already? Man, prey always digests so quickly.”

Bryson felt pressure rise from his stomach, and braced himself, and let out a huge belch. BURRRRRRRRPPPP. With a splat, what seemed to be what was left of the delivery guy’s uniform: his pants, his shirt, and his socks, got thrown to the floor. Bryson assumed that the guy’s underwear must still be inside his stomach, but that was fine with him, as he could just collect his underwear when it passed through his body as a keepsake of his victim.

He slapped his stomach, and started playing with it. “You are now a part of me, as useless body fat and energy that I can easily just exercise and burn right through. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay there, because my metabolism goes through things fast, and next thing you know, you will end up as undigested remains in my toilet. Thanks for feeding my hunger.” Grrrooaannn. His stomach erupted with groans and gurgles from within and kept eating away at the pizza and the remains of the delivery guy. As for Bryson, he went back to watching TV, while the delivery guy was stewing in his powerful stomach, along with the pizza he delivered.

[sweetiecutie]

Ok ok listen-

teacher!valeria x student!reader🫶🫶

(I imagen her and us having "study sessions" she calls us in her classroom to talk about our grades or she calls us in her classroom so she can "help" us with something that we didnt understand 😻😻and could reader be a fem?. if u dont want to do this is ok!!🫶❤️)

Pairing: Valeria Garza x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, university AU!, professor/student trope, age gap implied

A/n: this is literally so sexy, I’m about to cream my fucking pants😩

Okay, so this is a university au, in which Valeria is one of the professors. I have a feeling that she would be teaching something hard and complicated - let’s say math.

Professor Garza is very strict. She’s one of the people who value discipline and order over anything else, punishing everyone who dares disturbing it. Valeria wouldn’t think twice before giving out detentions and extra work for behavior she deems unacceptable within auditorium. Chatting during her lectures? - detention. Forgetting to do homework she gave? - detention and double the amount of exercises you had to be handed over to her due to 3 pm the next day.

Many students fear Miss Garza, many hate her, many like her; but every single one has some sort of respect for her cold and stoic demeanor. Valeria is strict and demanding , but she’s also one of the bestest - many students wish to be teached by her.

And even if it seems nearly impossible, Valeria does have favorites. Very few - 3-4 students in whole university, but boy are they privileged.

Valeria values conformity over anything else. She prefers students that are polite and well-behaved, never causing any commotion or fuss. And you happened to be just that - miss goody two shoes, one of the bestest in your year, never once failing ho hand in whatever assignment Valeria gave you, no matter how complicated or cumbersome the work was.

Garza quickly caught onto your skills, and by the end of first year she already valued you over the rest of your group. Not only the brilliance of your mind, which was capable of so many amazing thing, drew her in; you’re quite a sight for sore eye as well - clothes always neat and ironed, hair framing your pretty face perfectly no matter what, light makeup only highlighting your natural beauty. Valeria couldn’t help her eyes lingering on your soft thighs whenever you decided on wearing a skirt or a dress to uni, flooding her head with images of these exact thighs spread wide before her.

It was quite a challenge for Valeria to find any mistakes in your works. You were a smart little girl, she had no doubts about it at that point. But every time, with extreme effort, professor Garza managed to find all the little flaws in your works. They did seem ridiculous tho, something other math professors wouldn’t even deem as a mistake. So first time this happened you came up to the older woman, asking about your strangely low grade; and Valeria, voice softer with feigned sympathy, patiently explained why she had to grade you so lowly. “I hope you do better next time, hm?” She’d say with a small smile, dismissing you from her classroom. Oh how the sight of your pouting lips and teary eyes got her off

As semester drew nearer to its end your works didn’t seem to improve even a slightest bit. At this point you were convinced that it was something personal - that professor Garza simply disliked you (oh if only you knew). So it was a surprise when Valeria called out for you to stay behind as everyone was leaving after the end of her lecture. You obediently descended the stairs of high auditorium, coming to her desk, standing there patiently as all the students left.

Once alone in the room, Valeria turned to face you, one hip leaning onto the edge of her working desk. Her dark eyes gazed at you from above thin lenses of her reading glasses, arms crossed over her chest making her tits perk up teasingly from within two unmade buttons of her white blouse.

“Y/n, I wanted to talk to you about your grades” she said, her voice sounding a bit softer than usual - voice she used on you only. Your body tensed slightly at her words, your fingers gripping your books more tightly as you looked at her tentatively.

“I made a small research on your academic performance and it seems that you only struggle with my subject. Is there any particular reason to this?” She asked, concern lacing her words.

You bit your tongue, fighting back bitter words of indignation - it was Valeria’s fault only that your grades in math were so low. But you kept silent, gazing dully onto the floor under your feet. Professor Garza heaved a heavy sigh, her heart thrumming loudly within her chest at what she was about to do.

“Y/n, you’re a very smart girl, and I don’t want you to ruin your record because of arithmetics. I can give you some extra credit” she said calmly, your ears perking up at her words.

You looked up at the older woman, obviously surprised - Valeria never gave extra credit, no matter the circumstances. You blinked rapidly a few times - you won’t lose such an opportunity, you’d be a fool if you did.

“Sure, I’d be very grateful!” You said quickly, looking at Valeria with wide eager eyes.

She only smiled at your words, nodding for you to come closer. As you did, she took your books and notes out of your hands, placing them on the faraway side of her desk. “You won’t need these”

As you were going to ask what she meant her warm hand clasped around the back of your neck, slamming you against her desk. With a small squeak you were bent over the table, your cheek squished against some papers scattered on top of it. You felt Valeria’s hot chest pressing against your back, her free hand glided up and down the side of your hip as she whispered into your ear “Now I need you to be a good little girl and spread your legs wider”

And you did. Arousal pooled in the pit of your stomach, making your knees go weak as Valeria’s hand slipped in between your soft thighs - just like she always dreamed of, massaging your soft pussy through thin material of your panties.

Soon enough these same panties were shoved into your mouth to muffle all desperate cries tearing through your chest as to not disturb other professors in nearby auditoriums; three of Valeria’s long fingers fucked in and out of your drooling pussy with loud squelching sounds, her fingertips grazing that one spot deep within you, making your eyes roll and toes curl.

You exited professor Garza’s auditorium on trembling legs, your makeup and hair unnaturally messy, eyes unfocused and bleary but - most importantly - with impeccable record on arithmetics.

But to keep your math performance this way, you had to visit professor Garza some more for extracurricular activities <3

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Writers live off feedback, give us some love<3

[tumbleweed-run]

I have so many thoughts about Gale and sex... just so many. Especially when you stop and realize that it's unlikely that he and Mystra actually were in a bed for much of their intimate relationship. I think the reason he offers you the astral sea is because that's what he's used to, what he's currently most comfortable with.

But boy, does he give hints that he wants it down and dirty (literally) but first and foremost? The fact that he is a self-proclaimed munch enthusiast.

(nsfw below)

Gale is down to go down anywhere anytime? Oh you guys are stealing away for 10 minutes while the rest of your group does something else (and ABSOLUTELY knows what you two are doing)? Guess where Gale is?

That's right, between your thighs. No time for that? Yes there is.

He'll make time.

He'll make time to gently kiss your thighs even though you're pants are barely pulled down to your knees. He's got time for gentle nips and deeper ones that leave the tiniest bruises that will send little pangs of reminders every time your thighs brush together for the next few days.

He's nudging you open, first with his nose and then his tongue. Tasting, teasing. It doesn't matter that you've got places to be. You're going to be a mess once he's done. His beard is rubbing against your thighs, the friction not entirely pleasant, especially since you're still trapped by your pants. But you're not going to stop him because he's grabbed hold of your hips and lifted you just enough he can now fuck you gently with his tongue.

Slowly alternating between tracing maddening circles around your clit and pressing just the tip of his tongue into you. Over and over. Ignoring how your thighs tighten around his head and you're grabbing his hair. Trying to push him closer? Maybe away? You're not sure because you can barely breathe let alone think, little moans punctuating every exhale.

You're trying to be quiet.

But by now he's finally, finally, paying attention to your clit. Flicking it gently. You jump, the sensation like a lightning bolt, hands still gripped in his hair you pull him away. Not on purpose, now you definitely realize that's not what you wanted.

You consider for a second pressing him back against you but he holds his head still and stares up at you. Both asking if this is okay and tormenting you with the sudden nothingness. His eyes are so impossibly dark right now and you're not sure if its the lighting or lust.

Ever so slowly, holding your gaze for as long as possible he leans back in.

There's no teasing this time. His tongue, lips, and teeth find your clit with astonishing accuracy. Between you're high-pitched keening, barely able to keep yourself to a reasonable level, silence long forgotten, you can just barely make out his own moans. As if letting him feast on you like this is just as good for him as it is for you.

It's more than enough to push you over the edge, your release hitting you so violently you don't feel the back of your head collide with the wall when you throw it back. Your grip in his hair so tight, pressing him further into you... as if that were possible any more.

He's still there, between your thighs, as you come down off your high. Lazily licking, tasting everything. When he stands, he gently keeps a hand on your hips to steady you, the other awkwardly attempting to wrestle your pants back up. You realize his beard is still coated in you but he doesn't seem to mind. Doesn't even seem interest in his erection pressing obscenely against his pants.

There's a moment of soft giggles when he playfully grabs your tunic from beneath your armor and rubs it across his beard, wiping away the obvious remnants of your orgasm. But he makes no moves to clean it further, not just yet. And every time he comes within a few feet of anyone else you pray and hope they can't tell.