#everyone smut! lmao

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Alr hear me out, the service top lucifer with a very insecure reading. (Fem or GN) like he has to coax the reader to like open up (God damn I'm blushing thinking abt it-). Maybe even having to like talk them into even taking thier clothes off. Just a little idea stuck in my head.

Thank you very muchly.

Ooooooohh you’re giving me IDEAS (tbh I’d be the same boat)

~~~~

✨Opening Up✨

Lucifer x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, nipple play, pet names, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, service top!Lucifer

It has become evident that I am unable to write anything concise 😅

I’M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I MEANT TO POST THIS DAYS AGO 😭😭

Tag list: @trashbin-nie

@yellowsubiesdance

@j-jinxee

@stevensdickrider

@airwolf92

@mrssabinecallas

@myhornybrainonlyknowsthis

@bee-sinner

@thesoccerenthusiast

@katshyperfixations

@logybearsblog

@bigfatbimbo

You sat upright on Lucifer’s king sized bed, the King of Hell straddling your lap. You don't know how you even ended up in this position, not on this bed necessarily, but how you ended up as Lucifer's beloved. You believed in your heart that you did not deserve him, but time and time again Lucifer has showered you with praise and adoration like no one ever had before. He was perfect. And you were...you. It didn't make sense.

Regardless, that didn't stop him from holding your face tenderly in his hands while he kissed you with a fiery passion. You were self conscious about being so vocal around him during intimacy, but he made it his mission to elicit as many moans and whines from you as possible. Slowly, he reached down to the hem of your sleep shirt, grabbing a fistful of fabric. Your eyes popped open, your mind racing. You pulled away from his lips and went to grab his wrist that held your clothing.

"I-I'm sorry, love," he apologized, releasing your shirt immediately. You sighed and let go of the grip you had on his hand. "I didn't mean to scare you, I should have asked. Please forgive me."

"No, no," you breathed, "it's alright. I'm not upset, I just panicked. I'm sorry."

Lucifer pressed his lips to your forehead and planted a small kiss. "Please don't ever think you need to apologize to me for how you feel, sweetheart."

"O-Ok," you stuttered.

"Do you want to stop?," Lucifer asked. You could hear the genuine concern in his voice. Hard as it was to believe, he cared about you more than anything.

You shook your head. "No."

"You're sure?," Lucifer questioned further, "because if you're uncomfortable, we can-"

You cut him of mid-sentence with a quick peck to his lips. He smiled bashfully, a cute blush spreading across his face. "Believe me, Luci, I want this. I mean I really want this, but..." you found it difficult to articulate what you wanted to say.

"Well, if that's the case darling, what if I go first then?," Lucifer proposed. You cocked your head, unsure of what he was talking about. He reached up and began to unbutton his shirt, starting from the top and working his way down. Oh...OH.

Your face instantly feels hotter and your breathing becomes staggered. You tried to say something, but the words caught in your throat. Your mouth had never felt drier. He finally reached the last button of his shirt and you finally see some of his chest. You could almost feel your brain short circuiting.

"Do you wanna do the honors, my dear?," he asked playfully. You gulped as your hands reached towards his shoulders. Gingerly, you slid his sleeves down each arm, slowly revealing more and more skin to you. Once his shirt was completely removed, you couldn’t help but stare. His chest was so smooth and toned, almost like it had been sculpted. “Like what you see?” Lucifer questioned coyly, noticing your unwavering expression of awe.

"W-Well that's hardly fair," you whispered, finally finding your voice, "you're an actual angel. Of course you're going to be gorgeous, I-" you slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized what you had said. "Please pretend you didn't hear that!," you begged through your hand.

Lucifer's face was flushed pink, he could help but smile. He chuckled as he went to remove your hand from your face. "Is that what you really think about me, sweetheart? I'm truly flattered to hear that coming from someone as exquisite as you."

"You...You really think..." you started to say but couldn't finish. Tears began to well up in your eyes, you tried to rub them away before Lucifer could see but it was too late. Lucifer cupped your face and ran his thumbs under your eyes to clear away the tears that had fallen. Your breath hitched, you tried to take in deep heavy breaths so you wouldn't start sobbing.

“Hey, hey, hey, shhhhh,” he spoke with a soothing tone. He removed himself from your lap and sat down next to you, embracing you in his arms. “It’s okay, angel, it’s ok. I upset you and I’m sorry, I never want to be the reason you cry.” He rested his head on top of yours while you clung to his chest. The scent of him hit your nostrils, it was like breathing in a warm spring day. Purely intoxicating. It calmed you down, you started to breathe normally again. You felt safe in his arms, you could have stayed there for the rest of your life.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, your tears finally drying. “Thank you, Lucifer,” you murmured. He gave you a tight squeeze before you lifted yourself back up, sitting at his hip and leaving your head on his shoulder. “You weren’t the reason I was sad, you know? You never have been.”

Lucifer turned his head to you, “Really? Then why-?”

“Because I’m afraid,” you quickly responded. “I’m afraid that I’m not good enough for you. That I never will be. You’re the all mighty Lucifer, King of Hell. You have so much strength and power and respect. And I’m…I’m just me.” You sighed and pulled your legs up to your chest to rest your head on your knees. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Darling?,” Lucifer spoke at last. He brought himself in front of you on all fours and placed his hand under your chin, forcing you to look at him in his scarlet eyes. “ “Just you” is perfect. You don’t need to be anything but yourself! I understand what you’re feeling, and it’s okay to express that. But please know that I love you just the way you are. You are my true strength.”

You chuckled softly, leaning into his hand that was now pressed against your cheek. You took his words to heart; he loved you. He loved you so much. You had to show him that you felt the same way. You drew in a few quick and deep breaths before reaching for the hem of your sleep shirt.

“Wait, wait, what are you-” Lucifer tried to say, but you were too fast. Your shirt disappeared from your body and was tossed across the room. Silence filled the space, the only thing you could hear was your heart threatening to burst through your chest.

It was at that moment you noticed you couldn’t see Lucifer’s face. His hands had flown up to block his view of you.

“Lucifer?” you called to him.

“Y-You didn’t have to do that, love,” he stuttered. “I never wanted you to feel that you had to-”

“Please look at me, Luci,” you pleaded. “I love you. And I trust you. Let me show you. Please.”

You saw Lucifer’s hands slowly fall away from his hands, his eyes still screwed shut. “Are you sure?” he asked softly.

You leaned in to plant a kiss on his soft lip. Lucifer’s eyes shot open in surprise, you pulled away before he had a chance to react. Blood rushed to your cheeks when you saw him staring at you. Your first instinct was to cover yourself and shy away, but you pushed those feelings deep down. You were going to be vulnerable, you needed to be brave. Not just for him, but for yourself. You gripped the bed sheets so hard that you felt your nails digging into your skin through the silk.

After what seemed like an eternity, Lucifer had snapped out of his trance. He started to crawl towards you on his hands and knees, only stopping when his lips were inches away from your own. You felt his hot breath on you, you were finding it more and more difficult to keep your composure.

“You…are breathtaking,” he cooed, crashing his lips into yours hungrily. His tongue begged for entrance to your mouth, and you happily allowed it. You felt yourself slowly drifting down onto your back as you and Lucifer desperately devoured each other. He pulled away from your lips, trying to catch his breath, but you noticed he wasn’t looking into your eyes. His attention had drifted a little further down. He swallowed hard.

“May I?,” Lucifer asked breathlessly. Your face felt extremely hot and you couldn’t find the power to speak, so instead you nodded your head vigorously. He gave you a cheeky grin before lowering his mouth down onto one of your nipples. The noise you made sounded more high pitched than you meant it, but God, did it feel amazing! His tongue worked one nipple as his hand played with the other. You loved the sensation of him sucking and licking at your sensitive skin, the tiny bites from his teeth driving you insane. He rolled your other nipple between his two fingers, the pinches he gave sent your brain into overdrive. You never knew how sensitive you were, but Lucifer was more than happy to service you.

All of a sudden you noticed a different sensation, you felt something press against your inner thigh, dangerously close to your clothed pussy. It took your brain a few seconds to realize what was happening.

“Uhh, Lucifer, a-are you…”, you mumbled. Lucifer looked up from your chest with a puzzled face. “I can feel umm, I-I can feel your uhh…”, you didn’t know why you couldn’t say it. Maybe you were too embarrassed, which seemed silly considering what position you found yourself in. You pointed down towards your pants where Lucifer was wedged.

“Oh…OH,” Lucifer exclaimed pushing himself from you and onto his knees. “Oh my gosh, I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you could uhh, feel that…please forgive me!”

Seeing him so flustered somehow calmed some of the nerves you had before. It was cute, really. Demon overlord Lucifer getting embarrassed about unintentionally pushing his hard on against your thigh. You let out a small giggle.

"It's alright, Luci," you chuckled. "I'm flattered, really!"

Lucifer smiled, placing his hand behind him to rub the back of his neck. "I'm still sorry about that, love. I'm a little embarrassed."

“Well,” you breathed, “I guess it’s only fair that I embarrass myself too then, right?” Without warning, you grabbed the waistband of your pants and ripped them off along with your panties in one fell swoop. You laid naked in front of Lucifer, whose whole face had turned a shade of red you’ve never seen before.

“Ffffuck,” was all Lucifer could muster. You watched his Adam’s apple rise and fall, attempting to regain his thoughts. Looking at you, it was plain to see how soaked you were.

“Like what you see?,” you teased. Lucifer nodded his head eagerly, still at a loss for words. You lifted your hand and curled your finger, beckoning him to you. Obediently, Lucifer crawled on the bed towards you with no reservations. “You’re not the only one that’s worked up here. Now we’re even.”

“My love, please…” Lucifer whined, “please let me taste you.”

"Don't you...wanna get more comfortable first?," you asked him, knowing the problem in his pants had probably only gotten worse for him.

"Not until I've had my fill of you, sweetheart," he smiled before forcing his head between your legs. The moan you let out was guttural, almost feral, he lapped your folds like a starving man. He took long, drawn out licks up your slit before focusing on your clit. His lips kissed and sucked on your sensitive nub, sending waves of pleasure throughout you entire body. You couldn't pull away if you tried, he had wrapped his arms under your legs so you couldn't escape his assault on your cunt.

"Sh-shit, oh-oh my God Lucifer, FUCK," you moaned. You could feel a smile form on his face as this seemed to have made him pick up the pace. You screamed from his tongue darting in and out of you, feeling so close to snapping. Your thighs started to fold in on his head and you grabbed a fistful of his hair trying to regain some assemblance of control. “Fuckfuckfuck, mmmm…gonna c-cum, aaggghh, gonnacumgonnacum!” Lucifer’s tongue relentlessly circling your clit finally caused your body to spasm, your orgasm causing you to scream out in pleasure. Lucifer didn’t stop though, he let you ride out your orgasm and hungrily devoured your release. Once you finally came down from your high, Lucifer lifted his face from between your legs and flashed you a toothy grin, seemingly quite proud of his work.

“You alright, darling?,” he asked innocently, almost pretending like he wasn’t the cause of what you had just experienced.

“Y-yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” you breathed. “Just…Jesus, that was intense! Give me a little warning before you go all in on me like that again!”

Lucifer laughed. “I’m sorry, love, I couldn’t help myself.”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully. “Oh, I’m sure you couldn’t. Now, let’s get these off you, hmm?,” you said tugging at his pants.

Lucifer stood up from the bed quickly. He undid his belt and let his pants drop to the floor. From the outlines of his briefs, you were surprised that they could contain him at all. Before he could pull at the hem, you jumped off the bed to stop him.

“Allow me,” you offered, getting on your knees in front of him. You reached up and grabbed onto his briefs, snaking them down his legs. His cock sprang free of its cage and hung in front of your face, its tip already leaking. Without thinking, your wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. Lucifer let out a moan that you’ve never heard before, filled with absolute lust and need. You took one of your hands and grabbed the base of his shaft, slowly stroking up and down while your mouth continued to work on his head. You ran small licks against the slit, tasting and lapping all of the precum that was forming. You loved the taste of him.

“Love…f-fuck,” Lucifer panted, trying to fight through his moans, “if you don’t s-stop now, I-I’m gonna cum. I wanna…wanna feel you. P-Please…”

Reluctantly, you pulled your mouth away from his cock with a *pop*, pouting slightly. Lucifer leaned down to grab your torso and tossed you onto the bed like you were made of paper mache. That angelic strength of his always caught you off guard. Lucifer crept between your legs, planting a tender kiss on your lips.

“I promise,” he whispered against your lips, “next time you can finish what you started, but right now I need you. Need to feel you.” Lucifer brought his fingers to your needy cunt, feeling the slickness of your folds. Your breath caught in your throat at the sensation. He took his other hand and lined up the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Are you ready, my angel?,” he asked softly.

You grinned and nodded your head. With that, Lucifer closed the space between you once more with a fiery kiss as his cock entered you inch by inch. Your cries mixed with his as he finally entered you completely.

“You feel…amazing, darling, fuck…” Lucifer choked out. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you murmured, “I-I’m okay. You can move.”

“Anything for you,” he smiled. Lucifer slowly began to rock his hips into you, his cock filling you up completely with each thrust. You could feel every inch of him ruining your pussy, hitting just the right spot every time. It didn’t take long for his pace to become erratic and uneven. He buried his cock deep inside you, both of your moans filling the room.

“Lu-Lucifer, o-oh shit, Lucifer, I-I’m so close,” you pleaded. “Please don’t stop, p-please don’t.”

“Cum for me, darling. Wanna feel you cum.” Lucifer groaned. He bit down on your should as he continued to pound into you, biting and sucking your tender skin. You were shaking, he was going too fast, you were coming undone.

“Cuminme…FUCKCUMINME,” you screamed and wrapped your legs around him as your orgasm flooded over you. You felt your walls pulsating around his cock, it was too much for Lucifer to handle. You heard him cry out and felt him twitch inside you, filling you up with his hot cum.

Coming down from your highs, you both laid there for a moment trying to catch your breath. You played with Lucifer’s hair as he laid across your chest, completely worn out. A minute or two passed before Lucifer sat up and pulled himself out of you. He laid down next to you, staring at your flushed face.

“Are you alright?,” he asked. “Did I hurt you at all?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me,” you smiled. “That felt…really good. Thank you, for everything.”

Lucifer hummed and leaned up to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “No, thank you, love.”

You chuckled returning the kiss. “Would…you mind if I held you, Luci?”

Lucifer’s eyes widened, but he smiled wide. “Of course not, I’d love nothing more.”

Lucifer rolled on his side, giving you the chance to push your body against his back and wrap your arms around him. You both didn’t move until the morning.

~~~~

Hope you enjoyed my second attempt at NSFW content lmaooooo

AND YEAH I MADE HIM THE LITTLE SPOON, IT’S WHAT HE WOULD WANT

[choccy-milky]

MC doing what we all wished we could do (aka napping on the floor with ominis )😴💕

[fear-is-truth]

mature content ; mdni

mhmm… thinkin’ about charlie mayhew & his nympho gf

CHARLIE MAYHEW never saw himself as someone who struggled with self-control. sure, he rationalised the occasional indulgence… his body—like all things—was made by god, and surely the creator did not craft something so complex only for it to be neglected. he’s convinced himself that intimacy, when shared with deep affection, is just another way to honour the divine.

but then there was you. with you, his restraint was nonexistent. you weren’t just a temptation—you were a fucking force of nature. a wildfire, and he was the dry brush waiting to catch flame. charlie could barely open his eyes before you were on him, waking him up with those soft, insistent kisses, hands already pawing at his chest like you couldn’t wait another second to have his cock stuffed in your aching empty cunt. again. he should’ve known better by now—known that once you had him in your sights, he was done for.

“you’re impossible, you know that?” he mutters, though his hands are already moving to pull you closer, his groggy protests completely hollow. watching through heavy-lidded eyes as you suckle on his finger. he knows where this is headed; it’s the same every time. you don’t just want him—you consume him, and charlie, for all his hours of preaching celibacy and self-restraint, doesn’t stand a chance.

and oh god, the sinfully glorious fornication. good thing his priest collar is high enough to hide the marks you leave.

[slashisms]

𝓦𝓘𝓝𝓝𝓔𝓡 𝓣𝓐𝓚𝓔𝓢 𝓐𝓛𝓛;

ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧＳ: Billy Loomis x Reader x Stu Macher

ＲＡＴＩＮＧ: E

ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ: MINORS DNI, all characters are 18+. dub-con, but not really, spanking, name-calling, overstimulation, (un)protected sex, anal, etc.

ＷＯＲＤ ＣＯＵＮＴ: 6k

ＳＵＭＭＡＲＹ: Billy and Stu have a disagreement regarding your sex life.

Ａ/Ｎ: special thanks to @blackterrae who sent me a lovely ask that pretty much motivated this fic.

Your relationship with Tatum and Sidney was cordial, for all its ambiguity. You challenge anyone to think of a fitting adjective for the person who unknowingly stole your boyfriend, but saved your life in the process because said boyfriend was planning to kill you gruesomely. None of the questions raised by Billy and Stu’s seemingly random decision to dump both their girlfriends one day mattered once the bodies started dropping.

You were supposed to be their first victim, a red herring before Casey Becker’s murder, but after a failed attempt neither of them will cop to– they decided to pursue you instead. The timeline had been notably suspicious and eventually led to your discovery of their ‘extracurricular’ activity.

With the amount of convincing it took to get them to direct their murderous intentions towards Billy’s adulterous father and stage the whole thing as a murder-suicide with Neil Prescott as the culprit, you figure that sort of makes up for your part in the breakup. When Sidney and Tatum got together some time later, you were hoping for an opportunity to move past any lingering awkwardness.

Mentioning it to Billy and Stu was probably a mistake. They could care less about maintaining boundaries with an ex and considering how Stu’s last relationship ended, they probably thought they were doing the girls a favor by giving them a chance to befriend you. It would move them to the bottom of Billy and Stu’s list of potential victims, at least for a while.

A few weeks after you bring it up, they suggest you go to Sidney’s place to hang out. Perhaps you had been a little naive in thinking the two of them would agree to spend time with their exes’ new girlfriend without any hidden motives. Taking one girl’s boyfriend is bad, but taking two is downright sleazy. You should have been more wary of payback, especially since they knew exactly what pushed your boyfriends’ buttons.

Honestly, it would have been less exhausting if they hazed you to hash things out.

It starts after the end of the gore fest Billy forced everyone to watch. You’re too wrapped up in their flirting to notice the way Sidney and Tatum glance at you before sharing a long look. Tatum yawns dramatically, reaching for the remote to pause the credits with a bored expression. “I think that’s enough sex and stabbing,” she says, rising from the couch and wandering to the kitchen. “Let’s do something fun!”

Sidney rolls her eyes as you try to get Billy and Stu to take their hands off of you long enough to pay attention to the blonde. The two finally settle down when you pinch them in the side, fixing them with a look that has them heeling like two trained dogs. She’s reluctantly impressed by your handling and becoming more convinced that you’ll be fine after they’re done stirring the pot. Tatum returns with a bottle of liquor, swinging it triumphantly as Sidney shakes her head in feigned disapproval. “It’s not a party without vodka!” 

Before you can ask her what she means, the doorbell rings. Sidney gets up to answer it while Tatum silences your protests, tugging you out of Billy and Stu’s arms as voices begin echoing from the entrance way. Stu laughs and Billy smirks at the look of betrayal you give them as she pulls you towards the stairs. Your eyes widen at the crowd of people suddenly swarming the front door, catching a glimpse of Sidney speaking with a nervous looking Randy before handing him a twenty dollar bill.

The next thirty minutes is spent fending off Tatum’s attempts to ply you with vodka and put you in increasingly revealing outfits as she applies mascara and lip-gloss to you while lamenting not having any foundation in your shade. 

You compromise on two shots and a tastefully revealing pleated skirt and crop top before she leaves you to arrange your hair to your liking. Billy and Stu are standing outside like two pathetic puppies when she opens the door and Tatum rolls her eyes. You were wasted on these idiots, she thinks before seeking out her girlfriend. 

Stu wraps his arms around your waist while Billy approaches you, tilting your chin as you pout up at him. “Way to give me a heads up,” you gripe. 

Billy tuts softly, moving your head back and forth as he peers at you. “And give you a chance to run? No way,” he replies, pressing a kiss to your glossy lips. 

“Don’t worry, babe, we won’t leave your side,” Stu promises

Unbeknownst to you, Tatum and Sidney were counting on it. 

They hover by your side like two gargoyles for the duration of the party, guarding your drink as you become progressively tipsier. By your third (and last) drink, you’re ripe for the picking when someone exclaims, “Let’s play truth of dare!” 

You tug your reluctant boyfriends along, sitting on the couch with one of them on either side of you. The game is fairly innocuous for the first round, prepubescent memories or equally embarrassing dares before it delves into raunchier topics. Billy and Stu quickly become bored of torturing their classmates, a direct contrast to the lovey dovey way they treat you that Randy points out with accusatory gagging motions. 

“I’ve got a truth for you Randy,” Billy says, a smug grin on his face. “Are you a nerd because you’re a virgin or a virgin because you’re a nerd?” 

Stu snickers into your neck, kissing your skin in a pointedly mocking manner as you fight down the blush rushing to your face. Randy would usually slink away from this confrontation with his tail between his legs or backtrack with his belly up, but he stands his ground with an uncharacteristic confidence. “I’ve got one too, not for you kind sir, but for our Juliet here,” he says, setting you on edge. “Is there a ranking system to your Romeos or are you left twice as disappointed?” 

When you consider Randy’s part in provoking Billy later, you really think he should have asked for more than twenty dollars to take the beating the two of them dole out. You try to stop him when he rises from the couch, but he shakes you off easily as Stu’s playful grin falls and he follows suit, stalking towards Randy. You sigh when Billy grips Randy’s collar and delivers two blows to his face with the back of his hand without a word, pushing him into Stu’s waiting arms. The party goes wild as the two heft him over their shoulders, tossing him into a rowdy crowd surf that ends with him crashing onto the coffee table. 

Yet as the two slink back to your side, the seed has already been planted. You’re guiltily holding back laughter while they size the other up, oblivious to the signals that you should address the issue and drunk enough to believe that kicking Randy’s ass has resolved everything. You miss the silent communication that seals your fate: an annoyed quirk of Billy’s brow, an obnoxious grin from Stu and a glance at you and the exit. “C’mon, let’s ditch this snooze fest,” Stu insists, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

Your protests are quelled by the look Billy gives you, though it doesn’t take long for you to realize something’s up as they silently escort you back to the car. Billy gets in the back with you, barely closing the door before he’s pushing you back onto the leather seat. Stu starts the car while Billy climbs on top of you, hands roaming over your body to grope at your curves. His voice is deceptively calm when he speaks. “Hey, babe,” he says, pressing a biting kiss to your neck. “What did you think about that loser’s question?” 

You blink, brain crashing to a halt as Billy makes room for himself between your thighs. The two were definitely different, but they were plenty skilled at satisfying you that it never occurred to you to compare the two. From the way Billy stares at you, brown eyes glinting dangerously, he’s expecting an answer. “Uh, I think he was pretty stupid to ask something like that without wearing a cup,” you reply, trying to diffuse the thick tension in the air.

He smirks, tilting his head to the side as his hand moves to the edge of your skirt, slipping under it as he hums softly. “Well it’s started a debate that only you can solve,” he says. “Stuart here thinks he screws you better than I do.” 

Your breath catches as he pinches the lace band of your panties, snapping it against your skin. His words ignite a fire in your gut kindled by the thumb he’s swiping back and forth over your pulsing core. He presses a kiss to your mouth before biting meanly on your earlobe. “He thinks he fucks this pussy better than I do,” he whispers in your ear, using two fingers to caress your slippery vulva. 

You let out a weak cry when he parts your lips, rubbing tiny circles over your clit as he sucks a bruise into your neck. “I don’t think words are gonna get through to that type of delusion,” he says, ignoring Stu’s scoff. “So we’re gonna settle this tonight.” 

You have a moment to cope with the dread his words dredge up, the idea of being chewed up like a toy to settle a score makes you wish Randy never opened his big mouth. Billy’s fingertip grazing your entrance distracts you from your thoughts as trails his lips over your chest. “Make sure to keep track, princess,” he orders. “I’ll be taking your first.” 

Your hands grip at the seat as he continues kissing his way down your body before lifting your skirt. He pushes your knees apart, tugging off your panties and tossing them up in Stu’s direction. Billy rolls his eyes when he sees him bring the moist fabric to his face and inhale with a throaty groan. You feel the shift of tires on gravel under your head as the car swerves and Billy curses, striking the blond on the back of the head.

Despite his warning to pay attention, Billy cups both of your tits roughly in his palms and tugs on your top and bra to create an enticing image that threatens to divert Stu’s gaze from the road all over again. The drive to his place feels like it takes forever as Stu has to listen to Billy eat you out. He can picture the way the other is trailing kisses up your thighs—and bites, judging by your yelp, before lapping at your opening, swiping his tongue over your twitching hole.

He spits on your clit, sucking it into his mouth with a messy slurping sound and licking at you with exaggerated noises. Stu grips the steering wheel until his knuckles ache at your whiny moans and Billy’s encouragement, his cock painfully tight in his jeans as it throbs against his zipper. “That’s it, pretty girl,” he hears Billy murmur after dragging his tongue over your slit for the nth time, groaning at your taste. “Just relax and cum for me.” 

Stu’s doing twenty-five over the speed limit and he’s ran the three last red lights, but it’s worth it when he finally pulls into his stupidly long driveway. Once the car’s in park, he whips his head around to see Billy’s hand moving under your skirt as he sinks his middle and pointer finger inside you to the knuckle. His fingers press into your quivering walls as he mouths lazily at your clit, scissoring you open.

You back arches, overwhelmed by the constant stimulation to your sensitive bundle as his ruthless fingers dig into your body. You thrash weakly underneath Billy as he brings you to orgasm with just his tongue and two fingers, trembling thighs wrapped around his head. Stu grinds his teeth when Billy pulls back, smirking at him triumphantly as he removes his fingers from your body and sucks them into his mouth. “That’s one for me,” he jeers.  

“Fuck off,” Stu says, climbing over the seat and launching himself at him. 

You’re too busy catching your breath to care about the ensuing scuffle, rolling over as they begin trading blows. They don’t pull any punches either, going at it like wild dogs. In the enclosed space, Stu has the advantage and he catches Billy off guard with a hand in his jeans and a biting kiss. He groans as Stu grips his erection, roughly thumbing the head as he pins him to the car door.

The brunet can only watch as Stu fumbles for the handle, nuzzling Billy’s chin with his own and grinning at the mix of fury and arousal in his brown eyes. “My turn,” he whispers, opening the door and shoving him out before locking the car.

“Uh, was that such a good idea?” You ask, glancing at Billy, who’s banging on the window and cursing profusely. 

Stu turns to you, grin stretching across his face. “Focus on me, babe,” he orders. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard, that shit looked weak.” 

Before you can raise any concerns, Stu’s tongue is in your mouth, filling it with the coppery taste of blood. He grips both of your knees and pulls them apart, gazing down at you like he couldn’t care less that you were ruining his seats. One of his hands reaches out to glide through the mess on your thighs, coating his fingers before pushing two inside you. “As if he’s better at making you cum,” he grumbles, hooking his fingers and scraping them along your walls. “Look at how your pussy is sucking me in, she clearly likes me best.” 

You shudder, annoyed at how he manages to make his petulant whining sexy and Stu leans forward, smashing his lips to yours. “I’m gonna show you and him,” he growls. “Who owns this fucking pussy.” 

You gasp into his mouth as he fucks his fingers deeper into your body, smirking when you tighten around him. He leers at your bouncing chest, biting harshly at your nipple and sucking it into his mouth. You dimly hear the sound of the car unlocking as he moves on to the other nipple, but Stu just snickers. 

Luckily, Billy seems to have cooled off by the time he climbs in the front seat, opting to observe the way you fall apart under Stu. The man in question turns to him, pushing a third finger past your entrance with a satisfied grunt. He pounds into you with relentless force, licking his lips as he taunts, “I don’t even need to touch her clit to get her like this.” 

Stu uses his other hand to pin your flailing body down, smirking at the sob you let out when he does graze your clit. “Watch closely and take notes,” he says, the words nearly drowned out by your moans. 

If you didn’t look so debauched, there would definitely be another fight breaking out, but Billy just rolls his eyes, taking in your blissed out expression with an obsessive gleam in his eye. The spirit of competition was at its peak and you were in for a long night.

Convincing them not to completely wreck Stu’s car takes long enough that you’re able to regain some semblance of control. Not enough to stop Stu from tossing you over his shoulder and carrying you inside, but at least he takes you to his bedroom instead of the nearest flat surface in his house. There’s a temporary truce as your boyfriends strip away every article of clothing, leaving you and them bare.

Before they can start arguing about who’s next, you insist they cooperate before you dry up at their incessant bickering so they stick to alternating. Billy hovers over you, thick cock bobbing between his legs as the flushed tip leaks precum while Stu hovers in the back, stroking himself to relieve his tension. “He thinks he’s doing you a favor by ignoring your sweet spot, baby girl,” Billy sighs, giving you an apologetic kiss on your forehead. “Let me show him what that cute little clit’s for.” 

Billy slides down your body, grabbing your ankles and placing them on his shoulders as he moves forward. His hands cup your thighs and your cunt throbs under his stare, legs quaking when his thumbs spread your folds, revealing your glistening bud. His tongue darts out, flicking over it with pointed swipes as you bite your lip to suppress a wanton moan.

It doesn’t take long for him to work you to your peak, the simmering fire in your gut from your two orgasms easily paving the way to a third as he slurps at your clit before nudging at your opening. You let out a moan when he pushes past your entrance, groaning at the way you tighten around his tongue. His fingers come to play sloppily with your clit, the sound echoing in the room as he scoops you open. He hums in approval when you scream his name, pinching your clit between his fingers to make you scream louder.

Billy grinds against the edge of the bed as he gulps down your slick, sealing his lips over your cunt as he inches his tongue deeper. Stu curses as you toss your head back, eyes rolling back to your skull as Billy stops pinching your clit to strike it with a loud ‘smack!’ You whine as he pulls his hand back, landing a wet slap directly to the over sensitive bud. He pulls you further into his face and buries his nose in your mound, watching your tits bounce as you rut your hips against him.

He loves watching you chase your pleasure, forgetting to be self-conscious about how you look the closer you get. Your orgasm catches you off guard, the coil in your gut snapping after Billy delivers three stinging swats to your pussy, heat bursting between your legs as you weep. “Fuck!” You shout, convulsing as you gush into Billy’s mouth. 

Billy moans, slurping your cum into his mouth with his tongue as the rest drips down his face and onto the sheets. He reluctantly pulls away after a few more kisses to your throbbing clit and Stu approaches, staring down at your twitching body with a possessive gaze. Your heart pounds when they switch places, Stu prowling over you as his eyes dart over your face, breasts, and cunt. His fingers swipe over your puffy labia, hooking one inside to feel your walls ripple with the aftershocks.

Normally they would have been fucking you silly at this point, but Stu is determined to eat you out better than Billy, ignoring the painfully hard erection jutting against his belly. Though he can’t resist grabbing your ankles and pushing them towards your ears, lining his body up with yours to nudge his cock against your clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he sighs, tongue lolling out. “I’m gonna fucking destroy this pussy.” 

You groan at his words, staring at him with bleary eyes as he pulls back, sliding his hands down to cup the meat of your thighs. He holds you in place as he bends down to press his lips to your vulva, kissing it the same way he does your mouth, forcefully and with too much tongue. It feels like you’re being roasted alive as your ankles tremble by your face, your nerves overloaded as he pays almost punishing attention to your clit. 

After your third orgasm, the stimulation is almost too much. “Please, no more,” you plead. “Just fuck me already.” 

Billy curses behind you, the sound of you begging for their cocks has always been a weakness of theirs. Stu clicks his tongue, squeezing your thighs until you whimper softly. “Just be quiet and cum,” he orders, nibbling at the engorged bud. 

You have no choice but to obey, Stu’s iron grip on your thighs preventing you from moving an inch as he makes out with your clit, curling his lips around it and sucking as his thick tongue swats back and forth, making you squeal. One of your thighs falls onto his shoulder as he slides a hand to your entrance, poking and prodding before pushing three fingers in at once, smirking at the undignified howl you let out as he forces your body open.

He spreads his fingers, moaning at the feeling of your body giving way to his hand. You take in a shuddering breath as another orgasm builds, your clit pulsing against his tongue as he forces it out of you. Maybe that’s why it feels different and your brow furrows as you struggle to gather your wits to warn Stu. “W-wait, it-it feels like—”

You gasp as a hand covers your mouth, gaze flickering to where Billy is hovering over you, preventing any further arguments. You’re less than an active participant at the moment, they just want you to lay there and let them make you feel good. Your eyes squeeze shut as your climax crashes into you like an electric shock, leaving you jerking and squirming in Stu’s grip. 

“Oh fuck, dude, she just squirted,” Stu says with a shit-eating grin, pulling away with your cum dripping down his chin. “Shouldn’t that count for two?”

“Fuck no!”

“C’mon, you scared you can’t make her do it?”

You’re. Fucked. 

Stu cackles, swiping his tongue over the remnants of your cum on his face as Billy pushes him out of the way. “You’re gonna have to replace this shitty mattress,” he threatens as they swap spots.

Billy cups your cheek, glaring down at you like it's your fault they’ve reduced you to an overstimulated wreck. His other hand jerks himself off slowly, eyes moving from your face to your trembling body. “Look at you, cumming so easily after begging to stop,” he sneers. “I’m gonna pound this desperate little cunt until you’re begging for my cock.”

Despite his vicious words, he kisses you gently, pushing his tongue into your mouth until you taste yourself. He kisses down your neck and both of you groan when he braces his arms on either side of you, sliding his cock through your folds with slow rocking motions. “Motherfucker thinks I can’t make this pussy squirt,” he hisses, gripping his cock and pushing the bulbous tip inside you. “Just wait, you’re gonna be gushing around my cock.” 

You’re speared open as Billy sheathes himself inside of you in a single motion, pushing past any resistance with a groan. He sucks in a breath at the feeling of your walls clinging to every ridge and vein of his cock, slipping in easily after Stu’s fucked you open. His fists grip the sheets as he pulls out, slamming back in with a grunt.

His pace is savage as his hips slap against yours, carving a space in your body as he kisses you to smother your screams. Your back arches and your hands slap at his chest, scratching your nails down his skin when he grinds against that spongy knot of your cervix. Billy’s hand comes up to your nape and tilts your head, tapping your cheek. Your eyes flutter open, meeting his piercing gaze. “Look. Look at this greedy fucking cunt,” he orders, until you’re both staring at where his cock is disappearing inside you. “She’s gripping me so fucking hard, this tight little pussy doesn’t want to let me go.”

His hips never falter as he pummels into your body, his thrusts rocking the mattress until it’s creaking obnoxiously in concord with the ‘shlickshlickshlick’ of his cock thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. It’s impossible to gather a coherent thought as you watch and listen to the symphony of your bodies, but you vaguely hear yourself telling him you love it, begging him to go harder, deeper, to cum inside you so you can feel it.

You’ll say anything as long as he keeps delivering blazing jolts of ecstasy to your cunt, rendering any chance you’ve got at higher order thinking futile. Billy laughs at the glassy, dazed expression on your face as you fall apart underneath him. “Fucking cock drunk already, huh?” He laughs. “I’ll give you every goddamn inch since you want it so bad.”

He nuzzles closer to you to stare into your eyes, pulling your legs around his waist and bringing you in to meet his hips. You shake your head when he brings his thumb to your swollen clit, moaning at the way you milk his cock when he applies the slightest pressure. He squeezes your lips into a pout, shaking you like a rag doll when your eyes start to shut. “Don’t you dare close your eyes, you fucking slut,” he hisses. “You’re gonna remember who’s making you cum like this.”

You can’t even remember your own name, mouth dropping open in a silent gasp as drool slides down your chin and tears pool in your eyes. They spill over onto your cheeks, dark tracks of mascara falling onto the sheets as Billy pinches and strokes your clit. “Aw, you’re such a crybaby,” he teases. “Beg me and I’ll stop.”

“Please, please, please stop,” you comply immediately. “I can’t–can’t take anymore, it hurts.”

“Good girl, you’re so pretty when you beg,” Billy coos with feigned sympathy before drawing in and out of you until it feels like you, or the bed frame. is going to break. You gasp, staring at him with wide eyes when he pulls out to the tip, tapping it against your clit before angling his cock back at your entrance. “Billy, you promised!” You whimper, glaring at him with tear stained lashes.

“I lied,” he says before slamming back in, listening to you cry out. 

He fucks you hard and fast, ignoring your hiccuping pleas as his fingertips glide over your clit mercilessly. Billy grunts with every roll of his hips, covering your mouth as he plants his feet in the mattress and jackhammers against your g-spot, sparks shooting up your spine until your pussy undulates deliciously against every curve of his cock.

Billy curses when your teeth sink into his palm as you finally cum, eyes rolling back into your skull. His hips keep moving even as you clench around him, jaw aching as he fucks you through your orgasm. “C’mon, give it to me,” he growls, brutalizing your walls. “Soak my fucking cock, nasty girl.”

Your fifth orgasm is an out of body experience, your throat scraped raw as you yell against his palm, lower body exploding in a rush of slickness. “That’s it, baby,” he moans, balls tightening as he ruts his cock into your cervix before spilling inside you. 

You shudder at the warmth of his cum, moaning into the kiss he gives you as you come down. Billy slips out of you, reluctantly allowing an impatient Stu to take your place. You blink at the sensation of his shadow falling over you, vision blurry with tears as you look up at his dark expression. “Shit, babe,” he breathes softly, pupils blown as he caresses your overwrought form. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

You would laugh at the idea of being sexy while laying there like a wet noodle if you could manage to gather any air in your lungs. Stu leans forward, nuzzling your chest before swiping his tongue over your nipple. He grabs your trembling thighs and pulls your limp body into his lap, tongue moving over your chest and collarbone, groaning at the taste of your sweat. He cups your face with both of his hands, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he grinds against your pussy.

Stu shivers at the feeling of cum dripping onto his cock, the wet glide of your bodies finally providing some relief to the ache in his balls. Watching Billy fucking you without joining in was torture and his patience is wearing thin. He gives you a moment to catch your breath then slides his hands down to your thighs, lifting you slightly in the air before dropping you straight onto his cock. 

He laughs at the squeal you let out as your head knocks against his shoulder and your body curls into his chest, practically strangling his cock. He grips the globes of your ass, yanking you off and slamming you back down. Stu fucks into you like a rabid animal, teeth pulled back into a snarl as he bites and sucks at your neck.

He grins as you sob into his shoulder, impaling you on his cock with a loud squelching noise before jerking your hips up and down to meet his, shivering at the sensation of thrusting into your cum-filled hole. “Yeah, it’s good, huh?” He taunts. “Then take it, take it–take it all, you fucking bitch.”

He bounces you in his lap like a flesh-light, grinning at Billy as he spreads your cheeks wide enough to reveal your puckered asshole. The brunette’s gaze is drawn to the winking flesh as Stu inches one of his slender fingers towards it, pulling a nervous whine from you. “We should fuck you here too,” he purrs. “A whore like you isn’t satisfied until all your holes are filled.”

You moan softly and Stu smirks, smacking your ass and watching the flesh jiggle reverently. You let out an anguished cry of pleasure when he swipes his hands through the mess of cum dripping from your cunt to slick up a finger and slips it past the tight ring of muscle, curving his finger into your ass. You nearly bite down on your tongue when he sinks in a second finger, scissoring them using Billy’s cum as lube.

Stu groans as your entire body locks up, squeezing around him in a vice-like grip as you’re pushed to the edge from being penetrated at the same time. He hitches your hips into his, grinding deep into your gummy g-spot. You’d never thought you’d despair at the thought of your clit being touched but when he lets go of your hip to paw at the nub furiously, you think you start crying again. 

“Billy was right. You are a crybaby,” Stu coos, swiping his tongue over your salty tears. “Too bad it only makes me wanna see you cry harder.” 

You have to hold onto his shoulders or risk toppling over as he pounds into you, his thighs quaking as he propels his hips into yours. Your entire body is starting to feel like an exposed nerve, overloaded with a depth of sensory information that you can only process by crying out lewdly and drooling onto Stu’s skin. 

“Oh fuck, here it comes,” Stu hisses, informing you of your orgasm before you even realize it’s approaching. “Such a selfish pussy, cumming all by yourself. I guess we’ll see if you break the record tonight.”

You claw at his shoulders, back bowed and cunt pulsing around his cock as you quiver in his lap, drenching his waist as stars erupt behind your eyelids. You barely register the sound of Stu and Billy’s voices, an imploring murmur from Stu and a warning hiss from Billy is your only warning before you feel Billy’s length poking at your asshole.

You let out a weak protest that Stu hushes. “Billy wants to feel how tight you are, sweetheart, just let him put the tip in,” he croons softly, slipping his fingers out so Billy can slide the mushroom head of his cock into your body. 

“Fuck,” Billy sighs, tossing his head back at the heat enveloping him. “I love this slutty body, it’s still so tight even when we fuck you stupid.”

He pauses, a bruising grip on your hip and jaw clenched as Stu rocks your body back onto his. He gasps as you slowly sink onto him, moaning with every jerk of Stu’s length against the thin barrier of flesh separating them in your body. He swears, brows furrowing as you choke back a pitiful wail when another orgasm follows immediately, torn out of you almost involuntarily from their ruthless treatment. “Shit, she’s coming again,” Stu chuckles, pinching your clit as you whine. “I guess we’ll share credit for this one, but I’m still in the lead.” 

Billy kisses his teeth, pushing you further down as his breath catches at the friction of their cocks fucking in and out of you. He kisses your nape before biting at your shoulder. “How many times is that, princess?” He questions, gripping your chin and turning your face towards him. 

They both moan at the spaced out expression you’re wearing and Billy shakes your head to get your attention, waiting for your teary eyes to slide over to his face. “How many times did this filthy pussy cum, huh?” He repeats. “I told you to keep track, didn’t I, princess?”

You shake your head, burying your face in Billy’s palm, mumbling, “Don’t know, can’t remember, please, I can’t take anymore.”  

Billy slaps your ass until his palm stings, cursing when you seize around him. “I asked you to do one fucking thing,” he snaps, relishing in your pained mewl. “Dumb whore can’t even count when we’re fucking her.” 

Oh no. You’re starting to feel like a minor villain about to be conquered through the power of friendship, the preclude to your defeat stemming from the epiphany of two rivals that cooperation will yield better results.

Torturing others was a pastime that brought Stu and Billy together and you were no exception. If your tongue wasn’t heavy as lead in your mouth, you’d try to say something to dissuade them from doing so at any cost, but you can only hold pathetically onto Stu and hope for the best. 

“The fuck does a virgin like Randy know?” Billy growls, gripping your waist and lifting you off of their cocks before slamming you back down. “You love fucking both of us, don’t you? You cum harder when we paint your insides together.” 

Okay, maybe this was an opportunity for a quick resolution. You nod emphatically, eeking out breathless ‘uh huh’s and ‘mhmm’s that seem to satisfy Billy. You can only hope they’ll forget the competition and fuck you to completion together because you couldn’t take much more.

Stu’s breath trembles and his thighs tense as he covers Billy’s hands on your hips and shoves his cock into the hilt, sliding the hand on your clit to your stomach. “Fuck, you feel that, baby?” He moans. “I’m gonna cum here, right in this thirsty womb.”

You take a moment to be grateful for birth control as Stu buries himself in your cunt, pulsing one last time before shooting inside, moaning as Billy’s cock grinds into his from behind. You’re almost convinced that you succeeded in distracting them when they both slip out of you with a groan and Stu maneuvers you gently into Billy’s chest before getting off of the mattress.

Billy shifts your bodies off the undeniably soaked sheets to a dry spot and tangles your legs together. Stu grabs a water bottle from his mini fridge and your eyes open when you hear the twist of the cap. He holds the bottle to your lips until you gulp down half of it before setting it on the nightstand.

Your eyes widen as he pulls out a condom, glancing at Billy who takes it from him with a Cheshire grin. You watch as he tears the packet open with his teeth before sliding the condom over his throbbing cock, gripping it at the base. “We still have to settle this fair and square,” he says at your doe eyed gaze, lining himself up with your swollen pussy. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t lend each other a hand. Every magician needs an assistant, right babe?” 

Okay, so you’ve been sufficiently fucked over by two scheming lesbians, but it’s nothing less than what you deserve.

[preciouslittle-bhaalbabe]

Thinking about how Astarion moans into your mouth when you kiss. How he would gasp with your kisses trailing down to his needy length and your hands gently running along his perfect muscular torso. How he would stare wide eyed and slack jawed as you took all of him in your mouth. Spoiling him rotten with no expectations.

How he'd stifle little whines and growls as he rides out his orgasm with clenched fists and legs shaking.

Cuz he deserves it :3

[a2zillustration]

I've been waiting for an excuse to tell you why Croissant is called Croissant for SO LONG

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[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]

[boykissr]

myrrh / lavender and sage

asra x reader x muriel

contents : comfort smut, pwp, praise, sub reader, dom characters, ooc, grammar/spelling mistakes probably, super indulgent

a.n. : um.. sorry for disappearing for god knows how long <333 heres a snippet of a smutfic in writing for my bf to make up for it ! i'll probably post the rest when i finish it if this is received well <3

the night is still young, and you sigh as you relax into the many furs adorning muriel's worn mattress, limbs aching after a busy day at the shop. 

asra saunters over to your relaxed form, smelling of herbs and spices and holding a steaming cup of tea, grinning when you open an eye to peek at his admittedly revealing silk lavender robe; it was a gift from nadia, handed over with a knowing glint in her eye. 

"like what you see?" he teases, soothing voice almost gliding over you like butter. he looks gorgeous with the crackling fire illuminating his already-ethereal features. you blink and he's seated on your left, his free hand guiding your pliant head to rest on his chest, before taking a sip of the tea and placing it on the nightstand. "rough day?" he coos, adjusting his tune as you nod and he reclines back, your head still resting on his bare chest; still listening to the steady beat of your hearts. 

just then, the door swings open as muriel hobbles in, shoulders sagging as he beelines it for the mattress, front door swinging shut behind him. the large frame of your shared lover looms over you and asra before he climbs into bed on your other side, relaxation visibly washing over him as he reaches a beefy arm around your waist and softly kisses the crook of your neck. now, it was your turn to ask; "long day, love?" returned only with a grunt from the man tracing his slightly chapped lips along the most sensitive spots of your throat. 

you shudder, and you feel muriel's lips turn up against your skin, beginning to leave open-mouthed kisses against your hot skin as you keen lightly into your loves' hold. asra strokes your hair softly, scratching and massaging your scalp and leaning down to whisper sweet praises in your ear as muriel's arm tightens, hand sliding down to grip your hip.  

asra coos, voice breathy in your ear, before capturing your shuddering lips in a deep kiss. when he pulls back, the hand tangled in your hair pauses and grips the locks as he gazes half-lidded into your eyes, even as you let out a soft moan at the stimulation. "do you want to keep going?" he asks, and even muriel pauses in his ministrations for your answer. 

you bob your head rapidly as his words finally breach your hazy mind. you're so tired and all you want tonight is for your two favorite people to help you relax. "use your words, baby," asra tries again, honeyed tone never faltering. 

"yes--" you rush out, squirming in your lovers' hold. "please." you add, desperation laced in your tone; a soft moan erupting as muriel bites down on the meaty part of your neck.

asra surges into you, slotting his pillowy lips to join with yours and smiling into the kiss. he only pulls away when you can't go a second more without a breath of air, slowly slipping off your uncomfortable garments with deft fingers. he focuses his attention on your now-bare front, trailing lips from your own, down your neck, and suckling on the soft flesh of your chest, while looking into your eyes the entire time. 

you shudder as muriel busies himself with marking your shoulders and back, grinding deeply into the mattress as he lets out near-audible groans of pleasure.

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[xythlia]

getting high with belphie but he's letting you smoke his shit only so he can mess around with you the type of slimeball guy

𓏲 ࣪₊ belphie x f!reader

dregs demon with a fuckass bowl cut plows ur girl (for the sake of this let's pretend smoking would work the same in the devildom as it does irl okie)

— 1k+

— cw : smoking, recreational drug use, sex under the influence, reference to drug induced paranoia, kinda dubcon ish, humping, degradation, fingering, cervix fucking, dumbification, mating press, crying, squirting, creampie

You should've figured Belphie wouldn't invite you to his room for any actual study session. He sat cross legged beside you on the bed, breaking down the weed with careful fingers before packing it, his practiced ease of no surprise to you. Everyone else in the house preferred to pretend they couldn't smell the headiness that regularly clung to the younger sibling, the result of a long abandoned argument.

His eyes flicked away from you, nervous as you watched his tongue slide along the edge. It was a natural instinct to shift closer as the lighter coughed, watching it spark as he sealed the edge with one fluid movement. Clearly rolling a blunt was second nature to him, and you nearly giggle aloud thinking that he should've been dubbed the patron demon of rolling instead of sloth.

It's clear he sees something flash across your face, barely raising an eyebrow at you before leaning back against the pillows. It irks you for a second, the way he looks at you like you've never done this before and says he'll take the first hit. His faux confidence makes you snort in answer nodding anyway as he brings the lighter in close, cupping around the flame as the end lights up deep orange.

On the inhale, as his shoulders roll back, you feel a strange stirring inside your abdomen. He's always had that grubby sort of beauty about him, a slightly rough exterior that melts in the privacy of his room. You lean back against the wall as he offers it to you, eyes barely open but you can see their sharpness as he watches the way you move.

The paper offers a better flavor than you thought it would, a subtle cherry mingling with thick smoke as it glides down your tongue. The throat hit isn't harsh, a pleasant surprise he wasn't using stem filled regs. You close your eyes as it seeps from your lips in a slow exhale, feeling his eyes on you all the while.

You grin at him, earning a smirk from him as he gestures for you to keep it for a bit.

"Trying to put me on the moon?" It's coy, but you don't refuse the extra hit.

"Lightweight." He flashes a smug smile, "you'd be there in what, five minutes?" You laugh, but can't ignore the way your tummy twists while looking at him and you know he notices, desire subtle in the way his tongue slides along his bottom lip. You take another deep drag before passing it back, holding his gaze.

You hate that he's right, in the next few quiet minutes your brain gets fuzzy and your body comfortably warm, like taffy left in the sun to soften. Your movements feel equally slow and stretchy as you turn to face him, leaning in close. Belphie had the same idea, to your surprise as your noses brush and his inhale stutters.

The hesitation in you both is achingly frustrating, so you take the first step, tilting your head to press closer. Your mouth parts easily, offering no resistance as your lips meet and arousal coats your insides like sticky honey.

His hand, warm and urgent, caresses your thigh as his tongue slides against yours. As your mind drifts farther your movements become sloppier, spit slicking your lips as you move to straddle him and his hand cups your ass, kneading the flesh through your sweatpants.

When you finally break away shyness sets in, your fingers curling against his shoulders as he leans back to raise the blunt you forget about back to his lips for a leisurely drag. His head tilted up, making sure to exhale above yours before whispering.

"You look good," the huskiness of it makes butterflies swarm inside your stomach. That hand slides up to your lower back, slightly pushing you to lean back in as his lips brush the shell of your ear.

"I think you'd look better with my dick in your mouth," he barely whispers. It makes you shiver, eyes wide in shock but before you can even process it hes gone. Pulled back simply rubbing that hand up and across your lower back as if nothing had happened.

Gooseflesh prickles across your skin, making you feel almost paranoid, did he even say that?, until those suggestive eyes come back to you and you know it wasn't imaginary. Before you can open your mouth again he's grinding the blunt out, fingers curling beneath the hem of your shirt and ghosting against your sides.

It makes you jump in his hold, inadvertently brushing against his erection.

"You okay?" he asks, fingers going still.

You don't trust yourself enough to talk, head fuzzy with the high and the desire so you simply nod and press yourself back against his chest. It's warm and comfortable, making you long to stretch out like a cat and close your eyes.

That smirk is back and you know he's feeling smug seeing you like this. Gently he guides you to lay on your back, taking care to lift your shirt off before you're fully against the mattress. He follows, tugging his shirt off before pushing himself between your knees, pressing his erection against your clothed cunt making you gasp.

He takes the opportunity to bring his lips back against yours, devouring your gasps and slipping his tongue back into your mouth, sliding over yours until all you can do is claw at his back and take it. He tastes like the rillo, cherry burnt with earthy smoke, and it reignites your body to move. Hips rolling with his in a strange pantomime of sex, the friction of your clothes making your clit throb with every push.

The high makes you bolder, locking your legs around his hips as he grunts, a faint fuck lost in the perfect meld of your mouths, swallowed as if never spoken at all. He breaks from you, resting his forehead against yours as his breathing comes in shallow pants.

You don't let him ease back though, hips rolling once more and making his chest hitch. He ducks down, pressing lips to your throat before a searing nip from his teeth makes you yelp.

"Don't tease," his breath fans hot across your skin, "I'm trying to be nice here."

"Who ever said you were nice," you quip before you can catch yourself.

As he leans back you see a glint of cruelty in his eyes, then feel the sting of his thumb and index that snuck inside your bra to pinch your nipple. It makes you cry out, grabbing his forearm as he huffs out a laugh.

"Yeah, I guess I don't have to be," his hand slides down to slip past your sweatpants and the band of your underwear, "When you're already begging to get fucked there's no point."

The whine you let out as his finger flicks against your clit makes embarrassment sear across your skin, proving him right. You turn your head to the side, refusing to look at him even as you raise your hips so he can slide your bottoms off, and refusing to show that his words made you even more aroused.

"Shit, you got that wet from a little kissing?" He teased, nuzzling his face against your cheek to make you face him again. "You don't gotta tell me I'm right."

Lithe fingers prod at your cunt, making your hips buck as you finally turn your face and whine, pressing needy kisses to his lips. But he's not just going to give you what you want and you can feel the shit eating grin as he kisses you, fingers swiping through your wetness and barely pushing against your hole, it was torturous.

"You're so needy", he coos and you don't even attempt to bite back, reveling in the feeling of his fingers pushing inside you with a slick squelch. As they scissor and stretch your muscles out you pull him back to you, a kiss all teeth and hunger as heat builds in your gut and you squeeze around his fingers.

As you break away to throw your head back against the pillows he withdraws, leaving you to whimper as he rolls his boxers down letting his slim, but not lacking in length, cock spring against his belly. He gives a few short tugs before rubbing the flushed precum slicked head against your pussy.

As he positions his head against your slick hole you moan, anticipation making your adrenaline spike, yet the satisfying stretch doesn't come. Instead he gives shallow thrusts, just the tip, making you pout and stutter your hips to try and guide him inside fully.

It's making you feverish, squirming against the bed as he hovers over you braced on his forearms. You gasp, making him groan as you clench slightly but in one fluid movement he slides inside you and the length of him momentarily makes your head spin. You almost swear he's prodding against your cervix and it steals the air from your lungs.

Belphie doesn't even wait for your adjustment, thrusting into you so harshly it rips a wheezed moan from your throat, hands frantically finding purchase against his back to dig your nails in. It's all you can do to hold on against the jostling of your body as the obscenely wet sound of your cunt dragging him back inside with every outward pull rings in your ears, toes curling and mouth dripping open as the head of his cock kisses your cervix again.

"D'you hear that?" he groans against your shoulder, making you dig your nails into his skin harder for his teasing. But god the sound alone could make you cum, wet sticky slapping as he fucks you hard enough to make you sob. "Aw, is it too much? You gonna cum already?"

If you could speak you'd tell him you hate him, but his mocking only makes the coil wind tighter in your gut. You choke on your own breath, coherent thoughts unraveling as your impending orgasm mingles with the high to leave you mouth agap, high pitched cries cut off by every brutal thrust.

You don't even realize he's trying to kiss you again, only feeling the spit and drool smear into your skin as your legs hook around him, heels pressed harshly into his lower back. It should be impossible but you swear he's hitting a faster pace now, balls slapping heavy against your ass as he fumbles to shove your legs up instead of around him, hands pressing your thighs to fold up so hard you'll surely bruise in the morning.

The orgasm makes you feel blind, sobbing as you grip the backs of your knees only to end up choking around his fingers as they frantically shove inside your mouth. Salty tears slip against your taste buds, everything a blur as you feel a pressure release inside, not even registering the liquid spurting against his abdomen. You clamp around him like a vise, a grip so unwilling to let go it's like your body's begging for him to cum inside.

Teeth sink into the junction of your neck and shoulder, as his hips slam into yours one last time before you feel thick, hot cum flooding your pussy but it doesn't even enter your mind. Too numb and boneless to protest, sniffling as his fingers leave your mouth.

"Damn, you're so messy", he murmurs, helping you bring your legs down as he pulls out, humming as you feel cum leaking out of you. "I'll grab a towel then we're taking a nap."

You huff, basking in the warm glow before finally getting that stretch you longed for earlier, joints creaking and for once you're incredibly glad he's the demon of sloth.

[capquinn]

just remembered quinn got ejected and now i’m giggling bc that man did not give a fuck. if anything, he’s glad he didn’t have to play for 25+ minutes for once

[cambria-writes]

welcome to the very final chapter of honey and the hatchet! 🎉 it quite literally took eight whole entire years to get here, but i finally made it!

big thank you to everyone who's stuck around, read and flooded my notes with likes and shares this story around. i cannot express in any language i know how significant and meaningful that is.

for those who might be wondering, i used these photos of a suite at the macarthur to kind of situate myself.

...also sorry for kind of maybe edging you at the end there lol anyways enjoy!

pairing: patrick jane x named reader/ofc word count: 4,883 rating: A for adult content, MDNI warnings: smut, wearing, i know nothing about opera, PiV, unprotected sex, mild dom/sub, sir kink, neck grabbing but no choking, hair pulling if you squint, mentions of planned murders, relatively minor injuries (jane might have a cracked rib it's probably find), confession, the L word, this was not proofread and i'm almost sorry, please let me know if I should take anything else!

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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕹𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓: ℭ𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔷𝔞

Several Months Later

An opera house. A fucking opera house is where you end up spending Christmas Eve. It’s not something that a lot of people would get upset about, normally, and you know this. That’s why you’ve schooled your face into an expression that’s more rich, entitled boredom than resentful impatience.

But you’re in a box for a fancy show, wearing a dress that definitely costs more just to look at than your apartment likely does in a whole calendar year, and there’s free alcohol. Not that you’ve been indulging up until now, but it’s nice to know that there’s expensive, free booze for when you will be able to pay attention to literally anything else. 

Right now, your eyes are half-heartedly trailing around the stage, eventually halting at the Sopranist singing her heart out. You can’t make out the lyrics at all—never could, with how broad and loud the voices are in operatic compositions, nevermind the insane acoustics of this place—but the sound of the song feels appropriate. A slow build that keeps on building despite several fake-outs that make you believe you’re finally out of this eternal musical waiting.

Conveniently, it’s when the Sopranist pauses for a quick breath that you hear it. The drag of a foot against an old velvet rug. You whip your fan open and feign interest in the elaborate emotional display the singer is putting on. You’re not worried; you know you look like every other bored twenty-something in this place.

Patrick had personally made sure of that. 

“Enjoying yourself?” A woman asks, her deep, airy voice drifting around you as she moves to sit down to your left, French accent heavy in her words. She flips open a small hand fan with a short “thwap” before turning her attention to you.

Madame Jonquière is someone whose gaze feels heavy. Patrick hadn’t told you much about her. Just that she was at Stonewall and that he owed her a favour. Didn’t mention what the favour was for, and you didn’t bother prying any further. Madame Joncquière’s eyes go down to your hands for a second before meeting yours again. She smiles politely and inclines her head expectantly. You realize you haven’t answered yet.

“Sorry, yes,” you reply quickly. Clear your throat before looking back at the stage. “I can’t understand most of it but it sounds lovely. Thank you for letting me accompany you tonight.”

Madame Joncquière swings open a hand fan with a muted ‘fwap’ before fanning herself. “Oh no, thank you for your presence tonight!” she exclaims quietly, leaning forward closer to you.  You grin and leave over. “No one ever wants to come to the opera house with me anymore. They all think it’s boring!”

You laugh quietly along with her. Madame Joncquière leans back into her chair and fixes her gaze to the stage. You appreciate the space she’s leaving you. Despite the fact that she knows damn well that you’re here to make sure she doesn’t get assassinated, she seems to be taking everything in good stride.

You watch his back as he carefully pours a drink out of a shaker. You have no idea what prompted him to pick you up at 11:30AM for cocktail hour. On a Wednesday. In the empty, closed bar of some man who happened to also owe him a favour. You hadn’t expected an explanation. But Patrick had kept silent the whole car ride. It hadn’t been uncomfortable, but the whole time you can’t help but feel like you’re being psychologically edged. You can only refrain from asking the slew of questions floating in your head for so long.

A highball glass filled with some strange red-purple liquid swirling enticingly inside it. The colours almost make the ice look like it’s sparkling. You’re dazzled for a second before looking up at Patrick.

“One Purple Haze for our esteemed guest,” he says, dramatically, with a flourish and a bow. You laugh quietly before picking up the highball. Hold the glass up to the light to watch the colours mingle.

“It’s definitely nice to look at.” Distracted, you don’t notice Patrick walking out from behind the island to stand behind you. You don’t flinch when his cold hands part your hair to slide down your neck and rest on your shoulders. “Am I really expected to drink this before lunch? I haven’t even had breakfast.” 

“I did tell you to get up early last night,” Patrick says, voice low, by your ear. “Sounds like someone snoozed their alarm four too many times.”

You don’t answer. You instead try to see how quickly you can down the purple haze that was handed to you. Hoping to maybe inherit some of its own haze. You only stop when you’ve gulped down half.

“It’s a bad one, by the way,” Patrick adds, pressing a soft kiss at your temple before moving away. He sits on the stool next to you, slotting his knees between yours. “You’re supposed to pour the liqueur last to let it settle at the bottom. It isn’t supposed to swirl like that.”

You hum in understanding a look at the glass in the light again. “Shame, it looks nice this way.” Bring the glass back to your mouth for another sip. “Why am I getting a lesson in mixology today?”

“You’re going to the opera,” he starts, and you chug the rest of the drink before bracing yourself for another briefing. “And I’m going to need you to remember to order this, and how it’s supposed to be made.”

You frown. “Okay, so if I get it and it’s well made that means… what?”

Patrick smirks. Your stomach flips, entirely unaided by his hands running up your thighs. “It means I might have gotten… held up.”

“And this is… bad?”

Patrick hums and leans in, brushes his nose against your jaw. “If you consider first degree murder ‘bad’ then yes, it would be quite bad.”

You scoff at the blazé tone he takes, but it’s half-hearted. His fingers are working their way up your loose shorts toward your hips. 

“It might be a bad idea to sip at something that might have been poisoned.”

Ah, so this was it. 

Patrick hadn’t kept you in the loop for the entirety of this particular… situation. Not only because Madame J had gone to see him directly rather than the CBI, for reasons that hadn’t been obvious at the time, but because this seemed to be a personal slight. You’d kindly asked to be kept at an arm’s length for it all; solving murders had been one thing, but actively trying to prevent one felt beyond you.

You put your hands over his to halt their movement. Patrick immediately pulled back, brows furrowed in concern.

“I feel like too much hinges on me here,” you say quietly, pointedly staring at your knees. You can see the veins starting to honeycomb on your hands. Your fingertips feel cold and stiff.

“You don’t have to,” Patrick answers, just as quietly, pulling one of his hands back to run down your face, brushing your cheekbone with his thumb. “I can bully Rigsby into it.”

You can’t help but laugh a little. He’d probably love the chance to go out at the opera with someone who also wants to be there.

“How long do I have to think about it?” 

“Only until Saturday,” Patrick answers, and you can hear the apology in his voice. The last-minute nature of this annoys you–it only gives you three days, including today, to decide whether or not you want to be the final hurdle.

“I’ll sleep on it and let you know tomorrow.”

The evening goes well enough. You still can’t understand much of what’s being sung, but you enjoy the performance. The drama and emotion in the acting, while singing, is something that’s at least legitimately interesting to watch. 

You occasionally look over the audience as well. Your perch from the box gives you a fantastic vantage point to see most everyone in the hall. The hairs at the back of your neck have been raising every now and then. Same feeling as you get being observed in the dark. But every time you try to scan the crowd, everyone’s either facing the stage or canted forward in somnolence.

You hear a knock at the door of your box before the door opens. This is it, you think. You’d ordered drinks just as you were coming back from the intermission. You take a quick look at the dainty gold watch Patrick had wrapped around your wrist earlier in the evening. It’s been… fifteen minutes. Which seems like an awful long time to prepare a purple haze and a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.

You don’t bother turning at all until you hear the serving tray being gently placed on the table between you and Madame J. You note, with no small amount of relief, that your purple haze muddled to absolute fuck and back. Perfectly safe to drink then.

Your server speaks up just as you notice, reaching for your glass, that there’s quite a spill on the tray.

“Au plaisir, mesdames.”

A thrill runs up your spine. Madame Joncquière looks up while you slowly wrap your fingers around the cool glass. She almost makes a joyful exclamation, but seems to stop halfway through taking in a breath for you. Keep your eyes on your drink while you listen to retreating footsteps, muted on carpet, until you hear the door open and close again.

Madame J’s hand lands softly on your shoulder to give it a squeeze. 

“How wonderful of Monsieur Jane to come look in on us himself!” she says to you, barely above a whisper. “Shall we cheers to that then, chérie?” 

Your heart still thrums in your chest from the thrill of it all. You raise your glass along with her, but just before knocking it against Madame J’s, you draw your hands back.

“Would you mind indulging me?” you ask quietly, trying to control the smirk threatening to take over your expression. 

Madame Joncquière clearly sees the scheming glint in your eyes and doesn’t hide her grin. It’s toothy, like a fox. And you feel like a peer, having caught a rabbit dead to rights. 

“Absolument! What would you like?” She leans in closer over the small end table between you. 

You carefully move to grab her wine glass and press your glass to her palm. She beams and immediately gets your meaning. You link arms together, giggling quietly as you try not to spill your respective drinks. 

“Cheers to yet another wonderful night on this train wreck of a planet,” you say, tilting the wine glass to clink against the highball. 

“I’ll drink to that!”

No sooner has the wine touched your lips, you hear a small commotion in the audience. Not enough to interrupt the show, but not something that won’t be noticed. 

The wine is bitter and sour on your tongue and you don’t bother to school your expression into something tame. Madam J laughs quietly behind her fan and offers your drink back. You hastily hand her back her awful wine and nurse your significantly sweeter cocktail.

The rest of the evening is blessedly uneventful. Patrick doesn’t make another appearance, but you don’t expect him to. You were surprised that he showed up personally in the first place. At the end of the show, after having another attendant–a real one, this time–slips you both back into your coats. Opens the door and thanks you for your patronage and only closes the door behind you once you’re most of the way down the hallway. Madame J links your arms together as you walk, chittering away about the singers’ performance. 

Once you reach the lobby, excuses herself for a moment to make a phone call. You make your way over to a plush lounge chair by one of the floor-to-ceiling windows and take a seat. It’s fairly early, for a Sunday evening, so you pass the time people watching. Your phone vibrates in your coat pocket just as you see Madame Joncquière making her way over to you. Quickly look at your phone notification. 

‘Have her drop you off here,’ followed by an address and a room number. You don’t have time to respond back and ask where the fuck that is before Madame J extends her hand out to you. 

“I’ve been instructed to provide transportation for you, chère,” she says as you accept her hand to stand. “You’re alright to give my driver your address, yes?” 

Your body doesn’t seem to know if it should be excited or apprehensive. You acquiesce to Madame J after a second. Once you do actually enter her car–a vintage Cadillac with the classic wings–and let the driver know where to drop you off, she practically begins vibrating in her seat next to you. 

“Oh, please, you have to tell me who you’re meeting there!” she says, eagerly reaching for and grabbing your hands. The question must be written on your face because she laughs giddily. “Ma belle, the MacArthur is a veritable oasis in Sacramento. If you’re going there and you don’t know this, someone is very eager to make sure you enjoy yourself.”

This time the excitement wins over; you can feel your face heating up and you’re not entirely sure what your face is doing. You struggle to come up with something to say to that–what do you say to that?--but Madame Joncquière giggles some more and pats your thigh.

“So it’s Monsieur Jane, after all? What a man. I wonder who he conned into letting him stay there tonight.” 

“Probably someone else who owes him a favour,” you mutter. Your cheeks hurt from trying not to smile too widely.

“That would be a pretty sizeable favour to cash in on for leisure.” Her tone says she’s just thinking out loud, but you think you understand what Madame J’s trying to say.

Awful big favour to cash in on one woman. Must be a special one.

You try not to think too much about it.

The general manager meets you at the car. You wouldn’t have known he was the general manager if Madame Joncquière hadn’t turned into a gossipy 14 year old girl at the sight of him exiting the hotel doors. He opens the car door for you and helps you out with a hand.

“Lovely to have you, Ms Benraft. I’m Stephen Crawford, General Manager,” he introduces himself, taking a moment to lean forward to address Madam J. “Always a pleasure, Madame. Your friend will be in good hands with us.” 

“Always a pleasure, Monsieur Crawford. Have a wonderful night, chérie,” she finishes while addressing you, tossing a wink. “À la prochaine!” 

The general manager understands his cue to close the door, and the Cadillac slowly pulls away. 

You’re guided through the main building, where Stephen explains the history of the hotel and its various accommodations, all of which go into one ear and out the other. You’re taking directly to your lodgings, and  the general manager assures you that all amenities have been accounted for, including a late dinner and, in his words, “a small wardrobe in anticipation of whatever you would find comfortable”. 

You’re starting to understand why Madame Joncquière reacted the way that she did. Patrick has treated you to luxuries before–dinners, various events, even a trip out of the country–but none of it felt quite this… decadent. Almost overindulgent, actually. 

It truly feels like being spoiled rotten, and you’re still not sure how you feel about it.

Stephen hands you a very intricate key and steps back to wish you a good night, and that the front desk is available 24/7 should there ever be anything you need. You thank him and wait until he’s out of sight before turning back to the door. 

Your blood feels like it’s effervescing in your veins.

You consider knocking first, but decide to just let yourself into the room. You’re expected, after all, so it shouldn’t really matter, right? 

The first thing you notice is the fireplace. Then, the plush chairs, then the bed, then the bay window. The lighting is dim; only two lamps lit and the faint glow from the electric fireplace. The last thing you register is the sound of a shower running. 

You carefully close the door behind you and shrug your coat off, throw it in the direct of one of the chairs to your right. Walking further in, you spot a desk in a took to the left of the door with a chair conveniently pulled out. You carefully sit down to remove your shoes. Beautiful as they are and however aesthetically pleasant it was to have them match your dress, you’re happy to have them off. Carefully massage the soles of your feet, rotate your ankles, before leaning back in the chair.

This is lovely. You almost feel like you’re in one of those secluded little getaway suites in Bali or something. The vibes certainly match, even if late December weather is a bit too chilly. If you actually just let yourself enjoy everything for a second, and stop worrying about what it cost, this is just very nice. 

Maybe you’re starting to feel a little less spoiled and a little more pampered.

You’ve half dozed off by the time you feel warm hands on your shoulders. You sleepily hum, content, and sit up a little straighter. Stifle a yawn behind your hand and hear Patrick chuckle behind you.

“Have fun?”

You groan as you stretch. “Mm, would’ve been more fun withou–”

You cut yourself off after turning around and actually lay eyes on Patrick’s face. His lower lip is split on his left, and there’s a cut above the brow on the same side that you immediately know was from getting decked in the face. There’s also a disconcertingly large bruise on his left side, above his ribs, and you can’t fathom what would have caused that.

“Oh my–shit, are you okay? What happened?” 

You get halfway to standing up before Patrick gently presses you back down onto the chair. “Nothing too bad, I promise,” he answers, almost cajoling. Well, he’s breathing fine, from what you can see and hear. And he doesn’t seem like someone who got stabbed, you don’t think.

You still let the fingers of your left hand glide over the bruise. Patrick does a decent enough job to hide the wince, but it’s still there.

“Can I at least know what caused this one?” “Fire extinguisher.”

The words take a second to sink in before you start laughing. The image in your mind is absolutely far more cartoonish than what actually happened, for sure, but after an entire night of holding your breath, you can feel the tension start draining from your shoulders.

You turn back to face away from Patrick, and he resumes kneading the stress out of your traps and your neck. Thumbs dig into your neck on either side of your spine. It feels heavenly. Your breath catches when a shudder runs up your spine. There’s a heat that flares at the base of your spine when you feel his fingers gently wrap and brace against the sides of your throat.

“You did well tonight,” Patrick whispers into your hair. Takes a moment to brush your hair away before pressing a soft kiss to the back of your neck. 

You temper the rising, bubbling pride. “I didn’t even have to do anything.”

You can feel his laughter at the back of your neck. Hands slide down your arms before you feel him resting his forehead on your shoulder. 

“Switching your drinks was a clever idea.” You feel Patrick pulling away, squeak in surprise when he grabs the sides of the chair to spin you around. Crouches in front of your–and only now do you realize that he’s only got a towel around his waist, which parts dangerously wide as he lowers himself. “Made it a lot easier to catch our guy.”

Whatever tension in our shoulders Patrick hasn’t been able to dispel and disperse with his hands just… vanished. It had been a relief, initially, to know that Madame was safe and sound and not at risk of dying a slow, horrible, poisoned death. For the past 48 hours, it’s been a struggle to reign in your mind. You could barely sleep at night just for trying to distract yourself from what would happen if you didn’t pay well enough attention.

Patrick runs his hands over your thighs, up to your hips, tapping twice with his thumbs.

“I’m here,” you say airily, shaking off your thoughts to look Patrick in the eyes. “Just basked in the fact that it’s over now.” Lift a hand up to his face and gently smoothing your thumb below the cut at his brow. “Starting to wonder if I should have been worrying about you this whole time, instead.”

“Probably should have,” Patrick shrugs, and there’s a thrill that runs through you when you think, Of course I should have, of course you’d be getting yourself in some kind of mess.

He doesn’t say anything else when he stands back up and extends a hand out to help you to your feet. You feel silly for it, but you giggle when he makes you twirl, puling you back in with a hand at your waist. 

“Love the dress,” Patrick says, dipping in for a peck on the lips. “Where’d you get it?”

You scoff to compensate for the blood rushing to your face. “Some absolute scamp made me wear it tonight.”

Leading you into a slow, gentle sway by the fireplace, he puts on a show of looking offended. You laugh lightly at the exaggeration, but clear your throat once his expression settles. 

“I suppose the scamp should take it back, then,” he answers, voice low as the hand that held yours skips over ribs and moves up your back. 

You tilt your head when he begins to place opened-mouthed kisses down your neck. You let him pull your zipper down but otherwise don’t help him. Not that he needs much help; once the zipper stops, nearly at the very bottom of your spine, the top of your dress simply crumples away, taking the rest down with it.

Patrick takes a moment to pull back, hands smoothing down your upper arms as he takes a look at you. There’s a very self-content smirk on his face when he takes stock of the lacey, racy lingerie you’re wearing. A hand reaches down and tugs at your garter before letting it snap back into place.

God, the way he looks at you with such open, raw hunger continues to do things to you that you hadn’t known anyone was capable of. Until him.

“Even happier to see someone can follow instructions,” Patrick comments, sounding every part like the cat that got the cream. Both hands both over your hips, up your ribs, thumbs tracing the underside of your breasts.

Patrick leans in, lips barely brushing against yours. “Think you can keep following instructions?” 

You sigh shakily at his tone. “Yes, sir.”

You can feel his chest vibrate with his rumble of appreciation. He doesn’t speak when he tugs you along to bed. Doesn’t need to tell you what to do when he sits, tossing the towel from his waist in the general direction of the sitting area, leaning against the headboard. You dutifully install yourself on his lap, slowly settling your weight over his thighs. 

With two hands firmly on your rear, Patrick pulls you in as close as he can. Thrusts his hips up as he does so. Just the heat of his erection, throbbing against your damp underwear, has you moaning behind tightly sealed lips.

“That’s it,” Patrick encourages when you begin to rut against him without prompting. “Take what you want, I’ll give you the rest.” The rest of his sentence is almost unintelligible as he takes turns between kissing and nipping at your breasts. The bra is a pathetic excuse for fabric, and you understand why he had you wear this particular set; it almost feels as though there’s nothing at all between your skin and the wet heat of his mouth.

It doesn’t take long before you have to brace yourself against Patrick’s shoulders, and soon after that you find yourself whining as you toss your head back. The friction and heat are both wonderful in their own respect, but the angle is wrong, and it’s not nearly enough. 

You’re ravenous, and Patrick is a meal that loves to hold himself out of reach just a bit past long enough.

“Use your words,” he breathes into your collarbones, one hand moving us to massage at one of your breasts while the other moves lower. Down past the delicate lace waist of your panties, thumb teasing around your clit. 

“Fuck,” you choke out, unable to keep yourself from grinding down harder and faster in the hopes that something will change. 

“Not quite enough words,” Patrick quips, and you growl, annoyed. Bring your head back forward and do your best to maintain eye contact. 

It still feels embarrassing, even now. To say it out loud.

You’re learning to accept that… maybe you’re just. A little bit into that.

“Please, sir,” you start, clearing your throat and swallowing thickly. “I would very much like you to fuck me, please.”

Patrick practically purrs, satisfied. This part, too, is well rehearsed. You muster just enough self control to raise your hips. Enough room so he can pull his cock forward. Enough for you to gather saliva in your mouth and let it dribble down. Over Patrick’s hand, and over his cock.

He groans with the feeling of it as you exhaled in something you think might be awe. His eyes are close and head tilted back. He looks debauched, you think, but not quite enough. 

“Can I–can I touch, sir?” you pants, hands already raised by the sides of his head.

“Can’t say no when you ask so nicely,” he breathes out. You immediately run your hands through his hair, digging your fingertips into his scalp. He moans, a drawn-out thing that has your cunt clenching in a desperate way. 

A shudder like electricity shoots through you when you feel Patrick simply pulling aside the gusset of your underwear before lining himself up with your entrance. He takes a second–during which you whine in complaint–to get a hand at the back of your head, fisting the hair there just enough to get your attention. Look down at him with impatient, hooded eyes. 

“You’ll forgive the terrible timing,” he starts, sounding about as breathless as you’re sure you currently do. “But there’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“You’re right,” you groan, leaning your head forward to rest against his. “It’s terrible ti–”

Your sentence is blissfully interrupting when Patrick thrusts up into you. Not quite hilting himself, but damn well near it. You’re not sure what you would call the sound that cracked its way out of your throat. He groans in unison with you, and you’re not sure who’d trying to pull who in closer.

“Fuck,” Patrick breathes out, one hand guiding your hips to slowly move against him, the other smoothing the hair at the back of your head. “I love you.”

You keen, a quick, sharp pitched sound. Push yourself just far away to look him in the eyes. Takes him a second to build enough composure back off to raise his head and look at you straight on.

He’s been unguarded before, sure, but not like this. There’s something swirling in your chest and low in your abdomen. Something heavy, heady. 

“Christ,” you exhale, lifting your hips before slamming them back down. Your sharp inhale catches in your throat and Patrick bites back another groan. “Worst timing. Other women would question your motives.”

“Mmh, good thing you aren’t any other woman.” The end of his sentence is punctuated by a particularly sharp thrust upward. You can feel the tip of his cock just brushing against your cervix, and the jolt it sends through has you grinding down back in turn. 

Patrick winds his arms around your back and presses your against his chest. You feel him bracing his feet against the mattress, immediately move to grab the edge tof he headboard. Feel him chuckle under you, flinch when you feel teeth against one of your nipples through the sparse lace.

“Fortunate that I love you too, then.”

You don’t get to properly register the sound you hear bubbling up from the back of Patrick’s throat before he thrusts back up into you. Sets a pace that might’ve been brutal, but even in the haze of oxytocin in your brain you can recognize that this is relief. 

A man that’s been alone and snarling at and against the world for so many years just… just told you he loves you.

When you feel a hand make its way around your throat, you take the cue. 

It’s a tomorrow problem.

Tonight you can just feel, and bask in several jobs well done.

Tag List

@fucklife-or-me @mamacakeishereforfun @newavenger @yearningforsappho @natsukee @piper570 @rikuisthesweetestboy @berry-blink @wandabillywrites @leftovers-and-headrubs @pauphs @gamingfeline @racoonkitty @dogmatic255 

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Ok, this is the last preview I'm giving y'all for this story! I know this one has taken a while but I very much appreciate your patience! I'm hoping to post the full thing either tomorrow or Saturday! Hope you like it!

Mild warning for ~grinding~

Special thanks to @luc1fersducky @animationmovieshipps @bat-boness and @misfitgirlwrites for letting me send you my process, you guys are amazing <3

"And where do you think you're going?," you asked coyly, stopping him in his tracks entirely.

“I umm, just uhh…giving you privacy?” He tentatively went for the handle again, but your arm shot out, keeping the door in its locked state.

“Oh, we’re way past decency here, Lucifer.” You maneuvered him away from the door and sat him down on the large white bench that was affixed to the wall. You leveraged your foot against the area just below his hip and rested one hand on the top of your thigh, the other on your hip. “Besides, you’re not really in any condition to be in the public view” leaning forward and shooting a quick glance down at his crotch, “now are you?”

Lucifer could only shake his head.

"Glad you agree," you smiled and pecked his lips, an almost inaudible whine leaving Lucifer's throat. "I have some more dresses to try on. You can look, but you cannot touch unless I say, alright?"

"Yes, love," he murmured obediently. You smiled and turned around to pick up the black dress you had let fall to the floor. You bent over slowly to pick it up, giving Lucifer a lovely view of your barely covered ass. You heard a deep inhale behind you followed by a shaky exhale.

You hung up the black dress and moved onto the next dress, a beautiful lavender colored Bardot dress with sleeves that hung off your shoulders. Luckily this one didn't have a zipper, you only needed to step in and shimmy it up your body. You liked this one more than the last, you did as few twirls in front of the mirror checking every single angle.

"What do you think of this one, hon?," you asked, looking at his reflection in the mirror. It seemed as though he was gripping that bench with just a little too much force.

"Ravishing," Lucifer breathed. You had given him permission to look, and he was taking fully advantage of your generosity. He was chopping at the bit, fighting every urge to pounce right then and there. Lucifer's eyes were hungry, his lips curled into a smile to try and hide how badly he needed you at this moment. You admired his will power...but how strong was it truly? You made your way back towards him, chuckling playfully. Without warning, your knees found their way onto the bench, now fully straddling the mess of a man beneath you.

"W-what are you-mmph!" Lucifer tried to ask you but was cut short by your lips suddenly on his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a small peck to his forehead.

"You always say just the right things, Luci," you cooed as you began to shift your hips against him. Hearing the mangled moans coming from Lucifer was nothing short of euphoric. You noticed he had released his grasp on the bench and began to move towards your hips. You gripped the back of his head, his hair firmly between your fingers, and tilted his head back gently. Lucifer grunted softly as you brought your lips to his neck. "Ah, ah, ah, what did I say, love? No touching," you scolded, now sucking and nibbling at his tender skin, desperately needing to mark him.

Lucifer whined and reluctantly brought his hands back to their original position on the frigid bench that paled in comparison to the feeling of your warm body that was pressed against him. "I-I can't do this f-for much longer, darling," he whimpered, "I can only h-handle- hnng, so much, I...ssshhhhhhiiittt-" Lucifer's hot breath became increasingly labored as you continued to rock your hips against his painfully growing bulge.

Just then, you heard the sound of a door closing. Someone had just entered the room next to you. With the threat of being heard now looming, you lifted yourself from his neck to see that Lucifer's eyes had turned an ominous red. It felt as if his slit black irises were staring straight into your soul, attempting to burn you from within. He was losing control fast. But you weren't done with him just yet. With a smirk, you placed a finger over his soft lips. "Shhh," you whispered almost inaudibly, "you may want to keep your voice down from now on."

[keigo-takamis-no-1-simp]

Ｈａｗｋｓ ｘ Ｒｅａｄｅｒ： Ｂｉｒｄ ｏｆ Ｐｒｅｙ

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: Hawks x female! Reader

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: When you get bored at home waiting for your loving husband to come home... you think of a way to get him to come back sooner. It works- for a price.

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: Smut

𝙲𝚆/𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: Face-sitting, degradation, creampie, rough sex, penetration, female-parts, sex (ofc)

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1784 

Note: I have NEVER written smut before so I am so, so sorry if this is awful. Spicy stuff happens after the cut. This is- part of something I am challenging myself to do as a writer, I guess? I sure as hell ain't goin to heaven after this shit--

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

You’d been teasing him all day, just to see what he would do. Since you had the day off, you were bored. And what better way to deal with it than making your boyfriend horny as fuck when he’s in a meeting? 

It started off with pictures of your body- nothing too revealing, but enough to make him want more. He opened the messages, but didn’t do much more. You huffed, before an idea crossed your mind. 

Shifting onto your back, you spread your legs. Wearing little more than a bra and panties, your hand reaches up. With his feather around your neck, you knew he’d hear everything you did. Every little noise, whimper, or moan- which is exactly what you wanted. 

You begin to rub yourself over your panties, letting out a soft sigh as you feel the gentle pressure. After a few minutes, you slide your hand into your them, the feather in hand. It had bristled up a little, and the feeling of it against your clit was utterly delicious. 

Letting out a soft moan, your head tilts back. “Kei…~” You whine, shifting a little to continue to build that pleasure. It had been so long since you both had sex, and you missed him like hell. 

After a few moments, the sound of the front door jerks you from your thoughts. That meeting should’ve been another 10 minutes tops, and it took 15 to get home-

Your thoughts are cut short from a familiar winged male opening the bedroom door with more force than needed. His face is flushed, short hot breaths escaping his lips. His feathers are slightly ruffled, and his wings were spread just a little more than usual. 

He was beautiful normally, but this was hot. 

“Baby bird…~” His words are a low growl as he stalks towards you, before crawling onto the bed. “Just what the fuck do you think you’re doin’, hmm?” He rips the covers away, exposing you playing with yourself. 

Your stomach drops, but in the most pleasurable way possible. His eyes- like a predator eyeing it’s prey. 

A dark chuckle escapes his lips as his eyes darken just a little. “Mmmm… that’s what I thought. Playing with yourself like a little whore, hmm?~” He tuts a little, the feather coming from your hands to his own. 

“You’ve been such a naughty little bird, sending me pictures in meetings, playing with my feathers in a way you know I can’t ignore…” He pushes your legs apart, crawling in between them to hover right above you. 

His hot breath fans your chest as he takes in your flustered form. “Just couldn’t wait till I got home, huh..?” You don’t respond, and he trails his fingers through your hair. Suddenly, he wraps some of it around his fingers and pulls. 

A quiet moan escapes your lips at the feeling, and that simple noise sparks something in those darker amber eyes of his. “Such pretty noises… but they aren’t words, baby bird.” He clicks his tongue. 

You’d already been quite bratty… so why stop now? You pout up at him, as much as you can with his hands in your hair, anyway. You knew he enjoyed the fight. 

“Mm, but you came, didn’t you?~” You tease, before he tugs harder, ripping another moan from your throat. His face is inches from your neck as he growls. His hot breath fans your throat, teeth inching dangerously to your jugular.

“I guess I’ll have to remind you just who’s in charge, angel… and it isn’t you.” A feather flies from his plumes, wrapping around your wrists just enough to make sure you can’t move them. He wraps his hand around them, pinning them above your head. Your chest sticks out just a bit more from the angle. 

“So pretty.. It’s a shame, really..” He murmurs, disappointment clear in his tone. You shift, letting out a quiet whine. Before you can speak, he clicks his tongue again. “No, pretty bird… you had your chance. It seems like I need to remind you just who’s in charge, hmm..?” 

Heat rushes to your core at just how low his voice is. Oh, you fucked up. But this is exactly what you wanted. “Just sit still… you’re too horny to wait for me, hmm? Fine then…” His eyes flick up to yours for a moment. Even though you could feel just how hard he was, he stops for just a moment. 

“You can answer one question- what are our colors?” You falter, but you’re grateful. Despite how turned on he was, he always asked. 

“Red means stop…” His tongue trails down your stomach, and your words catch in your throat. “Yellow- Yellow means slow down, and… and green means it’s all good…” He hums in approval. 

“One last one. What’s the safe word?” 

“Treehouse.” “Good girl… fuck… I’m gonna absolutely wreck you sweetheart. But first… I have an idea.” He shifts, laying on his back as he gently guides you onto his face. 

“You’re gonna sit on my face until I’ve had enough. Sound good, little bird?~” Before you can respond, his arms wrap around your thighs. Pulling you down, your heat directly on his mouth. 

A quiet moan escapes your lips as his tongue traces your folds. “Fuck, Kei…” He slaps your ass cheek, and you whine. 

“Who am I?” He all but growls against you. 

“Sir..” You whimper, swallowing hard as his feathers dig into your wrists just a little more. 

He lets out a low chuckle, before giving you a harsh suck on your clit. “Good girl.” The moment he properly tastes you, he hums in approval.

A moan escapes your lips as he goes back to tongue-fucking you, making noises and holding you down like you were his last meal. Fuck- he was hot. And the fact he was holding you down on top of him? 

If there was any anxiety about suffocating him, he left no room to argue. If he wanted to suffocate himself on your pussy, he was gonna do it.

His lips shift, now wrapping around your clit. A mewl escapes your lips as your legs spread a little wider. He chuckles, the sound going straight to your core. 

When another whine leaves your lips, this time when he slows down. He hums, the vibrations making you jolt. After a few moments, he lets go of one of your thighs, sliding in two of his fingers. 

A deep moan escapes your lips this time. “F-fuck-” You can’t help but grind down onto his face, and he grips your waist tightly. When his fingers find that spongy spot inside of you, another moan escapes your lips. He chuckles, before abusing that spot. 

It doesn’t take long before that coil tightens almost painfully in your stomach. You’re panting, moaning, practically riding his fingers and his face– and with a nip to your clit, you fall apart on top of him. 

He’s quick, hardly letting you savor your orgasm before having you face down and ass up. “Such a good slut- who’s my good little whore, huh?” He slaps your ass, pulling a mewl from your throat. 

“I-I am-” He slaps your other ass cheek, a warning growl emanating from behind you. 

“I am?” The dark, dominant sound of his voice makes your thighs press together a little. But you wanted to see how far you could push him… his punishments were always good. So, she just nods. He sighs a bit, clicking his tongue. 

“Naughty bird… here I was, about to reward you for taking everything so well..” There’s faux sympathy in his tone. His hand gently rubs one of your ass cheeks, before slapping it hard. You yelp out softly, though there’s a soft moan mixed in. 

“Ah, that’s right… you like that sort of shit dontcha?” He chuckles, the sound holding a promise of danger. One that you like. “Fine… I’ll make it hurt then, princess.” 

Without warning, his hard cock slams into your core, giving you no chance to accommodate him. A mixture between a moan and a cry escapes your lips. He stills his hips completely against yours, his lips against your ear. 

“Color, love?” His voice is raspy, and you clench around him at the sound. 

“G-green, sir-” You whimper, biting your lip. His feather holds your hands in front of you on the bed, unable to hold your upper half up. He hums in approval again, his tongue tracing the shell of your ear. 

“Good girl…” He murmurs, before pulling out a bit. Without warning, he slams back into you, setting a brutal pace that has you seeing stars. Mixtures of “oh my god” and profanities are pulled from your lips as the head of his cock slams against your cervix. 

“Such a good slut- gonna fuck ya till ya can’t walk- that want you want? Tell me you want it-” He grunts, panting as he continues to slam into you. Your mouth opens to respond, but you can’t get a word out. The only thing spilling from your lips is moans, whimpers, and a little bit of drool. That feeling of warmth in your stomach returns quickly, the coil tightening again.

“Can’t even talk back anymore, huh?” He chuckles, grabbing your hair and pulling you up by it, then holding you by the throat. “Such a pretty little whore.. And all fucking mine.” Each word was punctuated with a deep thrust. 

And with that, the coil snaps. Your vision goes white as you clench down around him. Moaning out loudly, your eyes roll into your head as your tongue lolls from your mouth. 

After a few more thrusts, he buries himself into you, and you can literally feel the warmth of his release settling in your womb. A soft whine escapes your lips at the feeling. His feather lets go of your wrists, gently trailing your back before going back to his wings. 

He’s panting, before peppering kisses on your shoulders. “You took me so well, such a good girl…” He murmurs, letting himself slide out of your tight hole. His cum begins to dribble out, trailing down your thighs. You whine again, now for the loss of feeling. He laughs lightly, turning you around to kiss your forehead. 

“Alright, baby bird… let’s get you all cleaned up, hmm?” He coos, brushing your hair away from your face. You lean into his touch. 

Keigo was a lot of things. Dominant, rough, unrelenting- but kind, gentle, and caring. You hum in response, approval clear in your tone. Now… all that’s left of the night is for him to spoil you with his love. And you knew he wouldn’t hold back on that either. 

[misswoozi]

NSFW LINES!

Anal Princess Line: Umji, Mina, Sooyoung, Chaeryeong, Sowon

Occasional Anal Line: Solji, Irene, Rosé, Jihyo

MILF Line: Seohyun, Tiffany, Jihyo, Bom, Solar

MILF Hunter Line: Yuta, Jooheon, Ryujin, Seulgi, Momo, Shownu, Moonbyul

DILF Line:  Suho, Changsub, Onew, Shownu, Sungjin, Kun, Minho

DILF Hunter Line: Sunny, Hani, Yuju, Sana, Lia, Wonho, Hoshi

Lesbian Line: Seulgi, Jeongyeon, Chaeyoung, Yuri, Seohyun, Ryujin, Moonbyul, Jisoo

Gay Line: Taeyong, Hongjoong, Jongho, Sehun, Jimin, Jun, Haechan, Kyungsoo

Huge Dick Line: Seungkwan, Soobin, Johnny, Jaehyun, Lucas, Jae

Oral Fixation Line: Lisa, Matthew, Jungwoo, Momo

Daddy Kink Line: Young K, Changkyun, Suho, Kun, Seulgi, Dahyun

Men Get Pegged Line: Dokyeom, Soobin, Xiaojun, Lucas, Jongdae

Squirter Line: Yeri, Moonbyul, Tzuyu, Mina, Solar, Nayeon

Camboy Line: Jae, Dino, Yeonjun, Changkyun, Hoshi, Dokyeom, Jungkook

Somnophilia Line: Seungkwan, Xiaojun, Sooyoung, Tzuyu

Voyeur Line: Sooyoung, SinB, Joshua, Xiaojun, Nayeon

Likes Being Watched Line: Chanyeol, Solar, Chungha, Hoseok, Taeyeon, Woozi

Scenic Masturbation Line: Seungcheol, Jihyo, Taehyung, Johnny, Lucas, Kyungsoo

[sunsetzer]

Edgar has two hands, one for Locke and one for Setzer. "What about Celes though?" I hear you ask. Well, you see, she's busy holding hands with Terra.

[fonulyn]

“So,” Leon drawled, his heart beating madly in his chest from nervousness and something akin to hope. This might backfire, but maybe he could play it off then, turn it into a joke again. He didn’t actually think Piers would cut off their friendship for it either way, so he blurted out the rest. “Where do you want your prize?”

“My what?” Piers asked, frowning at Leon, before it immediately dawned on him. One could clearly see the penny drop, but then Piers rolled his eyes, chuckling as he reached out to playfully punch Leon’s shoulder. The good one, not the injured one, Leon couldn’t help but notice. “Very funny.”

“No, I mean it,” Leon said, holding eye contact.

-- Or, the BSAA Alpha team has a friendly darts tournament. Leon jokingly volunteers as the prize, but when Piers wins he decides he wasn’t joking at all.

[redislazy]

[minors dni] [cw: dubcon, choking]

ghost x afab!reader

red's ghost collection, no. 2

crossing the line with ghost.

┈┈┈┈┈┈

Your latest argument had reached an all-time high, fueled by ego and pent-up desire. You found yourselves cornered against opposite walls of an abandoned warehouse after a mission, trading insults and threats that were becoming increasingly shrewder and aggressive. It was as if something primal took over you both, unable to resist any longer despite knowing it would lead to disaster. As your words escalated, so did your physical actions; fists clenched and bodies tensed, prepared for the impending showdown. Neither of you wanted to back down from this struggle of dominance, even if it meant crossing a line you two swore never to cross.

Finally, fed up with your constant provocation, Ghost lunges forward with all his might. His hand wraps around your neck, choking you while pinning you against the wall. Your struggles only serve to excite him further as he feels himself grow harder under his clothes. His free hand roams your body roughly, groping your tits through your shirt before pulling it off entirely, revealing your perky nipples straining for attention. You moan into his grasp despite yourself, adding fuel to his desire. With a surge of strength, he lifts you off the ground with a grunt and slams you against the nearby crates, making sure you knew who held the upper hand.

Panting heavily, Ghost presses his hips against yours, grinding his erection. "You like this, don't you?" He whispers darkly into your ear, his voice dripping with ferocity.

"You want me to take control, make you mine." With each press of his body, he grows more forceful, leaving no doubt about what he desires from you. His hands roam freely over your body, tearing at your clothes until you're bare before him except for your panties.

"What've I done to deserve this? A stubborn little thing like you getting under my skin," He bites out between gritted teeth, his eyes locking onto yours as they gleam dangerously. "But maybe I shouldn't complain… seems I get what I want anyway."

With one swift motion, he pushes your panties aside and slides his cock into you, your own wetness providing convenient lubrication. You cry out in surprise as he forces his way inside, stretching you uncomfortably. Ghost lets out a low groan, relishing the feeling of being buried inside you. His grip on your neck loosens slightly, giving you enough air to breathe but not enough to defy him. "This is how it should be, ain't it?"

Feeling your body tremble underneath him, Ghost smirks darkly. "Like that, don't you? Reduced to nothing but a moaning mess beneath me," He moves his hips faster, thrusting deeper into you with each stroke. The sound of your bodies slapping together fills the air along with your gasps and moans. His hold on your neck remains firm, ensuring you stay quiet but also causing your face to turn red from lack of oxygen.

The sensations are overwhelming, both painful and pleasurable at the same time. Despite the situation, there's no denying the chemistry between you – it's undeniable even as Ghost continues to brutalize you against the crates.

Unable to resist any longer, Ghost releases himself inside you, filling you completely. It didn't take long for you to follow suit, your body quivering as you cum with him still throbbing inside you as he shoots each remaining drop left. His grip on your neck relaxes, allowing you to suck in a much-needed breath. As he regains his composure, he pulls out of you and drops you down the crates, standing over you with a satisfied look on his face. "There now," he says mockingly, brushing dirt off his hands. "Aren't we better behaved after a nice fuck?"

You stare up at him, trying to catch your breath and process everything that just happened. A part of you wants to hate him for treating you like this, yet another part revels in the intensity of your encounter. "What… was that for?" You manage to ask, your voice trembling.

His gaze meets yours coldly. "For me," he replies simply, stepping closer to you again. "To remind us both of who's in charge here." His hand reaches out, trailing along your cheek before cupping your jaw firmly. "And perhaps… because I couldn't resist you anymore."

As he speaks, the darkness in his eyes softens ever so slightly, betraying some hint of emotion that he tries desperately to hide. But then, just as quickly, it hardens once more. This man is a mystery even to himself, constantly wrestling with demons both literally and figuratively. Yet despite his efforts to maintain control, there's no denying the pull he feels toward you - however twisted or unwanted it may be.