#fuck these old men god just kiss already

[thechibilitwick]

anyway shidou would definitely confess first... CONVENTIONALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! mr what if i told you i like liked you mukuhara wld hint at it at most n try to act based on shds reaction like he did b4 i swear. schrodingers confession

YEAHHHUHHUHUUHH

i feel like they’d be friends for a bit n at some point they develop mutual feelings for each other (or well kazui probly started crushing on him from the start cuz he's a loser) but they just kinda sit on it and poke sticks at it periodically cuz they aren’t entirely sure if the other would be open to it

so kazui is just being kazui just like you described perfectly n shidou is just concerned if the feeling is mutual or if he’s really ready to commit to a new relationship until he eventually goes "fuck it we ball"

[inkskinned]

the thing is that they're so fascinated by sex, they love sex, they can't imagine a world without sex - they need sex to sell things, they need sex to be part of their personality, they need sex to prove their power - but they hate sex. they are disgusted by it.

sex is the only thing that holds their attention, and it is also the thing that can never be discussed directly.

you can't tell a child the normal names for parts of their body, that's sexual in nature, because the body isn't a body, it's a vessel of sex. it doesn't matter that it's been proven in studies (over and over) that kids need to know the names of their genitals; that they internalize sexual shame at a very young age and know it's 'dirty' to have a body; that it overwhelmingly protects children for them to have the correct words to communicate with. what matters is that they're sexual organs. what matters is that it freaks them out to think about kids having body parts - which only exist in the context of sex.

it's gross to talk about a period or how to check for cancer in a testicle or breast. that is nasty, illicit. there will be no pain meds for harsh medical procedures, just because they feature a cervix.

but they will put out an ad of you scantily-clad. you will sell their cars for them, because you have abs, a body. you will drip sex. you will ooze it, like a goo. like you were put on this planet to secrete wealth into their open palms.

they will hit you with that same palm. it will be disgusting that you like leather or leashes, but they will put their movie characters in leather and latex. it will be wrong of you to want sexual freedom, but they will mark their success in the number of people they bed.

they will crow that it's inappropriate for children so there will be no lessons on how to properly apply a condom, even to teens. it's teaching them the wrong things. no lessons on the diversity of sexual organ growth, none on how to obtain consent properly, none on how to recognize when you feel unsafe in your body. if you are a teenager, you have probably already been sexualized at some point in your life. you will have seen someone also-your-age who is splashed across a tv screen or a magazine or married to someone three times your age. you will watch people pull their hair into pigtails so they look like you. so that they can be sexy because of youth. one of the most common pornography searches involves newly-18 young women. girls. the words "barely legal," a hiss of glass sand over your skin.

barely legal. there are bills in place that will not allow people to feel safe in their own bodies. there are people working so hard to punish any person for having sex in a way that isn't god-fearing and submissive. heteronormative. the sex has to be at their feet, on your knees, your eyes wet. when was the first time you saw another person crying in pornography and thought - okay but for real. she looks super unhappy. later, when you are unhappy, you will close your eyes and ignore the feeling and act the role you have been taught to keep playing. they will punish the sex workers, remove the places they can practice their trade safely. they will then make casual jokes about how they sexually harass their nanny.

and they love sex but they hate that you're having sex. you need to have their ornamental, perfunctory, dispassionate sex. so you can't kiss your girlfriend in the bible belt because it is gross to have sex with someone of the same gender. so you can't get your tubes tied in new england because you might change your mind. so you can't admit you were sexually assaulted because real men don't get hurt, you should be grateful. you cannot handle your own body, you cannot handle the risks involved, let other people decide that for you. you aren't ready yet.

but they need you to have sex because you need to have kids. at 15, you are old enough to parent. you are not old enough to hear the word fuck too many times on television.

they are horrified by sex and they never stop talking about it, thinking about it, making everything unnecessarily preverted. the saying - a thief thinks everyone steals. they stand up at their podiums and they look out at the crowd and they sign a bill into place that makes sexwork even more unsafe and they stand up and smile and sign a bill that makes gender-affirming care illegal and they get up and they shrug their shoulders and write don't say gay and they get up, and they make the world about sex, but this horrible, plastic vision of it that they have. this wretched, emotionless thing that holds so much weight it's staggering. they put their whole spine behind it and they push and they say it's normal!

this horrible world they live in. disgusted and also obsessed.

[princesschimchim1325]

Sing for us, darling~

Dan Feng and Yingxing want to hear the noises their wife makes as they pleasure her, to let it be known to the whole Xianzhou Luofu that she belongs to them.

(Or you get sandwiched between your horny husbands)

Warnings: 3rd POV, fem & afab reader, reader is an adult, reader got bomb pussy game, overstimulation, groping, double penetration in the same hole, creampie, vaginal fingering, Dan Feng has two cocks and a voyeur kink, Yingxing is 41 (reader wants to fuck those old men so bad), Dan Feng is a menace, Yingxing is a charming old man, they are both possessive and horny as hell, a surprise at the end. (Fūrén - wife, bǎobèi - treasure)

Word count : 1,904 words

This can be read in the same universe as my dragoness reader idea but can be read as a standalone.

This could also be read in the same universe as my mutual's @philistiniphagottini's "god-ish" smut fic.

Likes, Comments & Reblogs are welcome!

DO NOT REPOST, OR FEED TO AI 🚫🚫🚫

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Under the pale moon, the wind made the trees rustle and flowers sway. The cold breeze would make any passerby shiver, enough to make their teeth chatter.  Everyone had worn thicker coats and lit up their fireplaces to stay warm.

Everyone except for the lovers in the High Elder's residence. Said High Elder was lounging on an armchair, his face propped up by his fist and an ankle atop his knee, an air of haughtiness befitting of man his caliber and position. Dan Feng was facing the master’s bed, calculating ocean green eyes swept over the attractive forms of his spouses.

His husband, Yingxing, was sitting on the edge of the large bed, completely bare. His long silver hair lay loose and flowing behind his muscled back. Sitting on his lap, was a jewel far more precious than any stone found in the Luofu, their beloved wife. 

And what a sight she was.

Her back was pressed against Yingxing’s broad chest, her front facing Dan Feng. Her lovely face was scrunched in frustration, sighing as Yingxing kissed and lavished her shoulders with love bites and hickeys, his large and calloused hands groped her breasts. And what was one of the most erotic sights he has ever seen in his centuries of living, her greedy pussy swallowing Yingxing’s length and if he looked hard enough, he could see a bulge on her stomach as Yingxing stuffed her full. 

Their shared bedchamber was filled with the loud wet sounds of Yingxing open mouthed kisses and their wife’s lovely moans, or as he and Yingxing liked to call them, song. His own hard cocks were pressing painfully against his trousers but he paid it no mind. The erotic sight in front of him was far more important. 

“Enjoying the show, A-Feng?” His Yingxing inquired, a smirk on his handsome face. His large hands slid from her breasts, trailing down until they slipped under her thighs, only to suddenly spread them wider, jostling the woman on his lap and causing her to throw her head back and sobbed. 

“Indeed. Dare I say, your little ‘show’ is the most enjoyable production I ever had the pleasure of witnessing.” 

He rose from his seat as he answered, taking off his white blazer as he did. Perhaps their little game went on long enough, they started at nightfall and now the moon was already high in the sky. Their poor wife must be so pent up, being cockwarmed and teased by Yingxing, but being told she wasn’t allowed to cum.

As he neared his two beloveds, their wife gazed at him with glassy eyes, cheeks wet from tears of frustration. She shakily reached out to him with her left hand and he caught her midway, holding her smaller hand and leaning down to place a kiss on her palm. 

“A-Feng…A-Xing has been so mean to me..” she whined as Dan Feng kissed her neck, trailing up to her ear, just below her earlobe. 

“Hmm, is that so?” He hummed, smirking as she yelped when he bit down on a particularly sensitive patch of skin and licked it as a form of apology.

“Oh, fūrén, this was our dearest High Elder’s idea. I am merely doing my part in his script~” Yingxing laughed, placing an unapologetic kiss on her hair. 

The High Elder pulled away to take his long gloves and the rest of his imperial garbs off, piece by piece revealing a lean yet powerful build, with broad shoulders, narrow waist and hips. 

“...You scoundrels. How could you be so mean to your wife?” she complained, writhing on top of the Furnace master’s lap, unconsciously tightening in the process and causing the man to groan. 

“Desperate now, are we?” Yingxing hissed, hands gripping her thighs in a bruising hold to stop her from squirming. 

Dan Feng, finally bare, had taken his place between his wife’s spread legs and replaced Yingxing’s hands gripping her thighs with his own. His cocks standing proudly against his toned stomach. 

Yingxing’s left hand returned to groping her breast and tweaking her hardened nipple with his fingers, while his right hand trailed up to her smooth neck, caressing it before gently gripping her throat. 

Dan Feng rubbed both of his cocks against her puffy clit, using her and Yingxing’s combined wetness as lube before taking one of his hardness and lining it up her hole that was still stretched around Yingxing’s cock. 

Slowly, he filled her up, one cock rubbing against Yingxing’s and her spongy walls, his other cock was sliding between her puffy folds and clit. Dan Feng pulled his husband into a searing kiss over their wife’s shoulder, making a show of their tongues dancing. He could feel her tighten up at the sight of their display. 

Inch by inch, he slid into her wet heat, until he pressed up against her cervix alongside Yingxing. He pulled away from his husband only to kiss his wife next, equally as passionate. 

Their beloved wife was panting when he pulled away, a thin strand of saliva connecting their lips before it snapped. 

A few moments of silence before sounds of debauchery filled their shared bedroom. Each sensual roll of their hips had their darling wife keening, throwing her head back and bumping against Yingxing’s collarbone, tears of pleasure streaming down her lovely face. 

“Mmmph! A-Xing, ah! A-Feng! Too deep! Please, too deep!” She sobbed. How cute, yet she clung to them like they’re her lifelines. 

Their hips moved in sync, when one thrusts in, one pulls out and vice versa, making sure their wife is in the precipice of pleasure and overstimulation. Their cocks were alternating in slamming against her cervix, causing her to moan even louder. 

In her desperation to keep herself grounded, her hands found themselves digging into different parts of her husbands. One hand reached behind her to grasp and pull at Yingxing’s long silver locks, making him groan. The other reached behind Dan Feng to rake her sharp nails down his back, leaving thin scratches that are deep enough to bleed. Dan Feng threw his head back, moaning at the pleasure before hissing from the stinging pain.

Yingxing, never one to let his spouses one up him, let the hand groping her breast trail down her soft stomach before suddenly pressing down on the bulge caused by their cocks. 

“Ah! Yingxing, please!” How adorable, she was starting to slur her words a bit. 

Yingxing couldn’t help but chuckle, “Close, love?” 

Their poor darling, already so close while being lovingly fucked, their cocks overcrowding her poor cunt while their hands groped her breasts, the pudge of her hips, or pressing down on the bulge of her stomach in a dazed fascination of how well she’s taking both of their cocks. 

Their normally stoic and quiet wife reduced to an incoherent mess, moaning only their names. 

Both husbands groaned at the same time when they felt her tighten, impossibly tight. Dan Feng reached down to draw circles on her engorged clit, making her cry out even louder to the point he might get complaints in the morning even though his estate is built farther away from other citizens. 

“Mmph! Ah! A-Feng, A-Xing! Please, I’m going to–ah!” Before their darling wife could even finish her sentence, she came, or rather, she squirted right at Dan Feng’s abdomen. 

Her sudden orgasm triggered Yingxing’s own orgasm and she could feel herself being filled to the brim with the copious amount of his warm and thick cum. Dan Feng followed not too long after him. 

She hiccuped in pleasure as she’s filled again, this time by Dan Feng’s cum, warm and thick, and just as abundant as Yingxing’s. 

Once the cloud of pleasure had dissipated, she watched in mortification how her cum that splashed her husband, dripped down the planes of muscles his blessed body has. 

He didn’t even look mad, if anything, he looked downright pleased by the turn of events with his telling smile and the mirth present in his eyes. Behind her, she could feel the rumble of Yingxing’s barking laugh. 

“Oh, you did so well, darling. Look, you even made his other cock cum.” Yingxing cooed, nuzzling into her hair. 

She looked down and saw that Yingxing was right, Dan Feng’s neglected cock had cum as well, his spent dripping from her chest to her stomach. 

“Hmm, you took both of us well. How are you feeling, băobèi? Are you hurt?” Dan Feng kissed her forehead while checking her for any signs of harm. She could only shake her head in fondness. 

Dan Feng was the first to pull out, Yingxing following soon after him. She whimpered at the feeling of their cocks rubbing against her sensitive walls. 

Dan Feng watched in fascination how his and Yingxing’s combined cum dripped from their wife’s slightly gaping pussy, staining the bed and dripping onto the floor. 

Before anymore could drip out from her lewd hole, Dan Feng scooped the excess cum and fingered it back inside her, causing her to jolt and gasp

“Let’s not waste, shall we? It would be such a shame, no, fūrén?” He looked at her with such an infuriating look on his handsome face while his fingers played with his and Yingxing’s mixed cum inside her sore cunt. 

Yingxing’s large hands found their way to her breasts again, playing and groping her soft tits. All he gave her was a not-so apologetic kiss on the top of her hair.

“Ah! You-you scoundrels! Give this body of mine a break, won’t you?” their wife scowled but it broke into a pleasured moan when Dan Feng once again bit the sensitive part of her neck.

“Well, we did say we want you to sing, didn’t we, bǎobèi?”

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Dan Heng shot out of his mattress, panting. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he tried to regulate his breathing, his heart beating so hard, it almost felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. 

He pressed his hand against his chest, his heart finally calming down. As he calmed down, he realized he had another problem, the hard on between his legs. Dan Heng groaned.

‘What the hell was that dream? No, that was too vivid to be something my mind conjured up. Was it a memory? If so, why the hell did I have a wet dream of Dan Feng and his spouses?’

He looked beside him, the woman sleeping next to him thankfully lay unaware of his dilemma. Her appearance had a striking resemblance to the woman in his dreams. He shook his head

He reached down to brush away the hair against her face, fingers slightly caressing her feathers. 

Well, whatever it was, he’ll deal with it tomorrow. 

••••••••••

Ren’s eyes opened, trying to adjust in the darkness of his room. He sat up before placing a hand on his face.

There was a moment of silence before the sounds of his hysterical laughter filled the room. 

“Of all the times, the memories of Yingxing decide to resurface now?” 

Ren laid in his bed again, facing the ceiling while his large and scarred hand dragged against his face, a smirk on his face. 

“Hah, I guess there is no escape for either of you. My bǎobèi, it won't be long until we're reunited...... And there is no place for you to hide, Yǐnyuè-jūn.”

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[righoul]

【Ｍｉｄｎｉｇｈｔ　Ｗｈｉｓｐｅｒｓ】

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

summary: it's your best friend's birthday, and she wants to go out to the club. you're not much of a party girl, but you do it anyways because you love her like a sister. it's a good thing you went, especially if it's a certain someone who can't keep his eyes off of you 😉

this kinda takes place in x-men origins: wolverine. that movie will always have a special place in my heart idc. also, I had a dream about this last night

warning: SMUT! 18+ MDNI. age gap, oral sex (f! receiving), cursing, unprotected PiV (don't be silly, wrap that willy), drinking, dirty talk, logan being kinda vocal, wingman!wade wilson, size difference, mention of anxiety (because mental health matters), praise kink, nicknames used: baby, darling, sweetheart, princess

words: 4.0k

Your best friend practically drags you through the mall as she makes a beeline to the dress store. What's the occasion, you may ask? It's her birthday today and she wants to go to a party at a club. You dread it, but if she is happy, you'll let down your antisocial wall. She's been begging on her hands and knees for you to come out and live your life. You hate crowded places, and you would much rather be in the comfort of your own home, in your sweatpants and tank top with a cozy cardigan and your hair in a messy bun while reading another Johanna Lindsey book. Is it cliché? Yes. Is it almost predictable? Fuck yes, but you love it anyways. You may call yourself a hopeless romantic, but your friend is right. You need to get laid ASAP. 

While you were mindlessly going through all the various dresses on the clothes rack, your friend pulled you away as she already made some selections for you. "Come on, try these on!" she exclaims. Some of them are not bad, but others are just damn right ugly or not your style. As you are about to enter the changing room, you hear the one voice that could only mean one thing. Your best friend’s boyfriend. “Oh, sweetie pie!” Wade announces in a singsong tune. Oh, great. You don’t necessarily hate Wade, he treats your best friend well and she’s taken well care of, sure, but this day was supposed to be just the two of you. 

“Hi, baby!” she squeals as Wade comes up to her and gives her a big old kiss in the mouth. Hey, God, it’s me again, you thought as you looked up at the ceiling. You close your eyes for just a few seconds to gather yourself and you look at the handsome pair. “Hey, Wade, it’s good to see you again.” You struggle to put the words together, but nonetheless, you put on a fake smile just to keep your friend happy. “It’s good to see you too,” he pulls you into a tight bear hug, cutting off your blood flow. “Oh, sorry, I’m just so excited to be here. I can’t miss out on this special day with my special girl.” He’s like a lovesick puppy. There was just something about Wade that made you be suspicious about him from the very beginning. He’s always gone, he doesn’t tell you or your bestie where he is or what he does. There was something off about him. Almost as if he’s living a double life. “Oh, honey!” your friend squeals again, giving him another open mouth kiss. Gross. 

“Well, while you guys catch up, I’m going to go ahead and try these on.” You mumble as you hold up a pile of dresses in your arms. Off to the dressing room, you go. 

The first dress you try on was a shiny, metallic gold halter top dress that stops at the mid thighs. On the front, it gives a deep V-neckline, making it hard to cover your breasts. It has slits on both sides, stopping at the waist and it is backless, curving at the bottom and stopping at the top of your ass. Sure, it was cute, if you were planning on being a stripper. You try on the next dress. Now, this one was cute, and you thought about saying yes to it just to get this over with. But you thought about it for a second longer and realized you’re going to be dying in it. It was black mesh sequin dress that barely covers your ass, and it had flare sleeves that are see-through. Last thing you want is to have sweaty armpits, causing the dress to have pit stains for the rest of the night. No, thanks. Next one. Too girly. Another one. Makes you look pale. The one after that. Cute, but not ideal for clubbing. Another one. This looks more like a prom dress than anything. You’re about to give up until you notice the last dress. You try it on, and lo and behold, this dress was the one. It is a dark green sequin mini dress that stops at mid-thigh with a sweetheart neckline with an adjustable skinny strap. Perfect.

You change back into your normal clothes, not even bothering to show it off to your best friend. Besides, she’s too busy with her boyfriend, practically eating each other’s faces. You made your way to the cash register, and you made your purchase. You thank them and make your way back to your friend and Wade, hopefully she got the hint that it was time to go. “Oh, you got a dress?” your friend asks. “Which one did you end up picking?” “You’ll see.” You reply mischievously with a little wink. She’s surprised about your remark, but she quickly brushes it off. Little did you know, while you were trying on all the dresses she picked out, her and Wade were conjuring up a plan. Wade was telling his girlfriend about his friend that he can set up with you. Well, he’s not exactly a friend, per se, but a fellow acquaintance of his. They work together, sure, but he’s kind of a grump. Now there’s just one problem. Wade hasn’t even talked to him about hooking up with you. Now that is going to be the tricky part. 

“You think you can bring your friend along?” your friend asked. “Oh yeah, he’ll come.” Wade responded. Your friend was constantly looking over in your direction while you were in the changing room, hoping to not get caught by you. “What if this plan fails?” “Baby, it’ll work.” Wade puts his hands on her shoulders, soothing her. “I’ll make sure to see to it. Besides, he’s not a bad guy. Sure, he’s a little rough around the edges, but it’ll be good for him. For both of them.” Your friend lets out a deep sigh. “Okay. I trust you. But if this plan doesn’t work, you owe me big time.” She jammed her pointer finger at his chest harshly and Wade laughed, but he knew deep down inside, she scares him and that’s what he loves about her. She keeps him grounded, and he always makes sure to fulfill his promises.

*Later that night*

You put on your brand new dress that you bought and you put on a pair of black high heels to go along with it. Meanwhile, your friend put on a baby pink dress with puffy sleeves and white heels that wrap around the calves. She put on some subtle makeup while you put on a smoky appearance. Her hair was done in loose curls in a half low ponytail with a white bow and your hair was done straight as a pencil. When you walked out of your bedroom, your friend was surprised to say the least. She claimed that you look like a totally different person, but you brushed it off. You didn’t think she was being serious and you assumed she was just being nice because you both knew this isn’t like at all. But, she was right. You did look amazing.

You and your friend got there at the club, scanning to find Wade. You thought it was kind of weird that he didn’t pick you guys up at your place, but you dropped it pretty quick. You guys grabbed your drinks from the bar and went out to the dance floor. You were honestly having a good time. You felt so free. So liberating. Normally, you would feel anxious in large crowds like tonight, but with the help of some liquid courage, that all subsided. Wade finally came down to the dance floor and greeted your best friend with a kiss on the cheek.

“Happy birthday, baby!” Wade shouted over the loud bass of the music.

“Thank you!” your friend shouted back.

“Thanks for stopping by!”

“Yeah, of course, Y/N! I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

As you were about to throw back on your drink, your cup was empty.

“Hey! I’m about to get myself a round two! Did you want anything?” you asked your friend.

“I’m still working on mine! But, thank you!”

“I’ll be back!”

You sauntered your way back to the bar again and asked for the bartender.

“Rum and Coke, please.” you ordered your drink to the tall man behind the bar.

“You got it, miss.” he winked at you.

You felt flatter for the gesture, but you knew deep down you wouldn’t pursue it. Ever since you guys walked into this place, you had men staring at you nonstop. You felt like an innocent fawn in a den full of lions, greedily licking their lips and wanting to get a piece of meat out of you. All the barstools were taken up by men, and now that there was a pretty woman in their proximity, they all of a sudden didn’t know how to think with their heads, but with their dicks. All eyes were on you tonight. The anxiety was about to creep up to your throat to the point it felt hard to breathe. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. You should’ve stayed at home.

“That would be $5.50, miss.” the bartender smiles.

You were about to reach for your bag when you felt a large hand on your lower back. You looked over who it was, but looking over at the man to your right knocked the wind out of you. He was ruggedly handsome. He has dark brown hair that was done messily with mutton chops to go along with his fluffy hair. He wore dark blue jeans with a belt to hold it up to his hips, a pair of boots, a white wife beater, flannel, and a dark brown leather jacket to complete his bad boy exterior. 

“I got it, darlin’,” the stranger looked at you, smugly. “don’t worry ‘bout it.”

You were just stunned, you didn’t know what to say. This man was so dangerously handsome, you’ll do anything to keep this man’s attention on you. But, remember what your friend taught you. Never chase after a man. If he wants you that badly, walk him like a dog. And you intend to do that.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” the man bent over to your right ear and said with his cockiness, “use your words.”

Shit, shit, shit. So much for taking the reign.

“Oh, um.. thank you.” you replied sweetly.

“Attagirl.” 

Oh, so he wants to play that game. Well jokes on him, you can play along too. You have read so many scenarios where this plays out, it’s time to use that playbook. There was a spot that was available and the handsome fellow sat down, but still maintaining that contact with you.

“What’s your name, darlin’?”

“Y/N. What’s yours?”

“The name’s Logan.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

You didn’t know if it was the drink or you feeling bold, but you made your way to Logan and sat on his lap. His eyes widen and his jaw a little slacked, but quickly bounces back to his usual smug face before you could appreciate your small little victory. Your legs were across his laps and you kept your legs crossed on top of the other, giving Logan an aweing view of your scrumptious thighs. He had one hand placed on the small of your back, dangerously close to your ass and the other hand was resting outside your knee, rubbing small circles with his thumbs,

You guys have been talking and flirting for about 30 minutes, and everything was going so smoothly for tonight. There was a small part of you that didn’t want this night to end, but there was that sinking feeling that you felt that this was going to be a one time experience and you’ll never see him again. Your hand was resting at the nape of his neck, giving him light scratches. Logan let out some low purrs. He loves the way that you’re giving him all this attention from a pretty thing like yourself. But he had this gnawing feeling that he shouldn’t do this to you. You were so young and naive, you never really got to experience life to the fullest. He promised a friend that he was going to hook up with a girl that he knew, get acquainted and maybe get something more out of it. Possibly a relationship. But Logan knows that never comes easily with him. Everyone that he ever loved dies in the end. You were just so sweet and innocent. He couldn’t put you through that. 

“Say, wanna get out of here?” Logan asked.

At first, you were hesitant. Wasn’t this what you wanted? I mean, yes. Look at him. This man is built like a god. You didn’t want to ditch your friend on her birthday to go sleep with some guy. But then again, you’ve been gone for a while and she didn’t seem to notice you. So, fuck it. 

“Yeah, sure.” you replied.

You got off his lap and Logan got off his seat, and he walked you out of the busting night club. You both decided to go to your apartment where you were most comfortable. Logan didn’t seem to mind. It was probably for the best since your apartment is probably nicer than his and he wanted to make sure that you were comfortable. A gentleman, I know. You fished for your keys in your purse and let yourselves in. 

“Please, make yourself at home.” you exclaimed. “Can I get you something?”

“You got any beer?” Logan asked.

“I got Budweiser. Is that okay?”

Logan would’ve died on the spot. It’s almost as if you were made for him. Like he drew a mental picture of you and manifested it. 

“Now we’re talking.”

You giggled at his response and went to the fridge to grab two bottles. If Logan almost died from you knowing his favorite beer, he would’ve melted from your lovely laugh. You truly were made from him.

You both settled on the couch and facing each other, you both went back to talking from the last conversation at the bar. Logan, resting his arm behind the couch while nesting a bottle while you were curled up, tucking your feet behind you and resting a hand on your chin, honing in everything and digesting every word that comes out of his mouth. 

“So, what was a pretty thing like yourself at a bar?” Logan asked.

“Oh, the funny thing is it’s my friend’s birthday and we were out celebrating.” I chuckled softly. “I guess she’s still there with her boyfriend so I don’t feel too guilty.”

Logan chuckled roughly. “Ah man, I’m sorry to drag you away.”

I waved my hand at him nonchalantly. “It’s not a big deal, really.”

After chatting again for about 15 minutes, you noticed that Logan is sitting closer and closer to you. For a moment, you forgot how to breathe because of how handsome he is. His lips were so close to yours, you could almost taste him. You caught him stealing a few glances down your chest, mentally undressing you, but you don’t seem to mind.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful tonight.” Logan whispered huskily.

You automatically placed your hand on his chest, chests basically touching.

“You’re not so bad yourself, handsome.” I whispered seductively. “Mind taking me out of this dress?”

Logan’s heart stopped for a moment when you asked him so bluntly. Of course, he wasn’t going to pass this opportunity. So he reached behind you and unzipped your dress. He gently laid you back on the couch as you moved to take off his flannel shirt. He slowly pulled your straps down one by one, as he was taking his sweet time with you, trying to memorize every little thing about your body. Logan finally slipped your dress off of you and the only thing standing in his way is your black lace thong.

“Fuck.” Logan shuddered a groan.

You tried to cover yourself, but Logan took one of his hands and pinned both your wrists above your head.

“Don’t get all shy now with me.” Logan growled. “I wanna see it all.

I whimpered at his rough exterior and wrapped your legs around his waist. He purred in approval.

“Logan…” You moaned. “Let me touch you.”

Logan chuckled darkly as you begged and whined while you’re getting super soaked in your panties, it was leaving wet spots in his pants. He pressed his hard on your heated, needy pussy. You whimpered at the contact, arching your back, hoping to feel him.

“Ahh, pretty baby wants to touch me?” Logan teased.

You nodded your head and he laughed. He leaned down and started sucking your neck, leaving hickeys and love bites at its wake. You begin to moan, and he chuckles darkly as he’s leaving kisses down between your breasts. Logan sat up straight to remove his shirt and undo his belt. He slipped his pants and boxers down, and went down to come face to face to your pussy. He left a little kiss on your clothed pussy and you whimpered while arching your back so far, it almost didn’t look natural. He chuckled how reactive you are to him and he’s enjoying every bit of it. He went to pick you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He placed his hands on your ass, and leaned in for a kiss. You kissed him back happily as you took his face with your hands and you both moaned, fighting for dominance.

“Where’s your room, sweetheart?” Logan asked.

“First door on the right.” You moaned in his mouth.

He then leads you both to your room, still kissing you. As you both entered, he placed you on the bed as he crawled down on you. He forgot you still had your underwear on, so he ripped it off of your body. You gasped, not from ruining it but at how he ripped it off with ease.

“Sorry, princess. It was getting in the way.” Logan muttered and then he quickly went down to eat you out. You arched your back as you gripped the bed sheets. He placed his hand down on your lower stomach to hold you down. “Don’t move.” He growled as he looked up at you.

You fought your hardest to remain still. Logan went back to eat your pussy like a starved man, and you moved your fist to your mouth, biting back some moans. “Nah uh, I wanna hear you. I want this whole apartment to hear how good I’m makin’ ya feel.” Logan said roughly. You nodded your head as he went back to devouring his desert. You moaned loudly, it almost sounded pornographic and he chuckled darkly. “That’s it, darlin’. Attagirl.” He praised you. “Logan, I’m so..” You said sultry. “Go ahead. Come for me.” At demand, you did and you were starting to see white after this euphoric sensation and you were starting to come down from your high.

“On your hands and knees.” Logan demanded. You did as you were told and he purred at how easy you were to please. He’ll keep this in mind. He climbed behind you as he gripped your ass close to his hardened dick. He slowly smoothed your backside with one hand and he bent down to your ear, his cold dog tags touching your bare back, making you shiver. “Let me know if it gets too rough for ya.” Logan whispered sweetly. All you could do was nod your head. “I need words, sweetheart.” “Yes. Yes, I’ll let you know if it gets too much.” Logan smirked. “Attagirl.”

Logan then eased the tip of his cock into your heated entrance, and began to gasp heavily. “Oh, fuck.” You moaned and Logan chuckled. “Easy, princess, just breathe.” He slowly went inch by inch, feeling his length and his girth. It then becomes easy for you, going from painful to pleasure. Going from losing your breath to moaning into a hot mess. Logan began to pull back and slammed it back in. You jumped forward at the brutal force and you moaned in…pleasure? Pain? Honestly, who cares? It feels too good to stop. He kept pounding into you, starting to hit your cervix over and over again.

“Fuuuucck.” Logan growled as he looked up into the ceiling for a hot minute. He went to look back down as the relentless pounding is matching the rhythm to your ass bouncing back to his cock, making wet slapping noises. “You’re gonna be the death of me, princess.” You giggled at his comment as you turned your head at an angle to get a good look at him. Logan bent down again to kiss you on the lips, moaning into each other’s mouths.

Logan then flipped you on your back and his pounding into you again as you wrapped his legs around his waist. He went to intertwined his fingers into yours and he looked into your eyes. “Don’t close your eyes. I wanna see you come undone.” Logan warned. You nodded your head and said, “I won’t.” Logan nodded his head in approval. “Baby, I’m so close.” You moaned. “I know, I know. I’m right behind you.” You then reached your second climax of the night and you were spent. Logan’s hips started to stutter as he made a few good thrusts into you. “Where at?” Logan asked. “Inside. Safe.” You gasped between breaths, finding it hard to find the words. Logan nodded as he made one last thrust before he went still, painting your insides white.

Logan collapsed beside you and he pulled you into a lover’s embrace as you passed out. He kissed the top of your head as he whispered before you were completely out, “You did so good for me, baby. My perfect girl.”

The next morning, you stirred awake as you stretched your arms above your head. You looked out to your window and then you looked over to your right side of the bed, noticing that it was empty. Your heart sank to your chest. You were disappointed, but not surprised. Wishful thinking, you thought. You got out of bed and put on a fresh pair of panties and a short, silky bathrobe. You made your way to the kitchen and then you noticed a tan bare back with dark fluffy hair. He’s wearing his jeans low on his hips with no belt on. He’s cooking eggs and bacon on the stovetop. Logan turned around, took notice of your morning attire and he’s breath was taken away.

“Good morning, princess.” Logan said in his deep morning voice.

“Good morning.” You sighed happily. You went over to him and he grabbed you by the waist, making you gasp out loud. He leaned in for a kiss and you happily kissed him back.

“Oh, good!” Wade announced himself in the kitchen. “I see you met Y/N. The one that I mentioned to you before.”

Surprisingly, Logan didn’t growl at him. He stopped kissing you as you looked at Wade with a slack jaw like a fish in a hook. He went back to look down at you, and smiled, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you can say we got to know each other very well.” Logan winked at you after your “acquaintance” last night. You playfully slapped at his bare chest and he laughed.

“Next time if you guys are going to fuck, can you at least keep it down?” Wade whined. “It’s like coming across the Animal Channel.”

I picked up a towel and threw it at him. “Fuck off, will you, Wade?” Logan laughed as Wade scurried away. Logan wrapped his arms around my waist, palming my ass. “Hmmm. And here I thought I was gonna regret meeting you. But, Wade never described you. I guess I got lucky.” I leaned up to kiss him on the lips and he happily kissed me back. “To be honest, I didn’t know about any of this. I’m glad that I stumbled upon you.” Logan smirked at me. “Come on, before breakfast gets cold.”

[gremlingottoosilly]

Crybaby!Reader X Mafia!König

oh the poor woman..

Somebody free my girl!! Konig is an old, corrupted mafia dog who just loves to see you squirm. He never thought of himself as particularly sadistic towards women - he can be cruel towards men and traitors, but he was usually well-behaved around the ladies...well, you can say that you corrupted a gentleman his momma raised. The first time you cried in front of him, tugging on his sleeve as he was disposing of some dumb fuck who walked on you kissing at the VIP room of the club, you were dragged by accident - he knew he had to keep you. He was mesmerized by your tears; he loved your body trembling, and it got even better when he pushed his hand into your panties and felt the wetness of involuntary arousal collecting in the soaked fabric. God, you're beautiful - and you just signed your death sentence. He drags you with him everywhere, even though usually he likes to keep his pretty girls safe and sound in the various properties he owns - but he loves your reactions too much to keep you caged. It's a small mercy - you are not technically locked in one room, but you also have to witness him killing the enemies of the family like it's nothing - and then he would squeeze your soft, tear-stained cheeks and ask why you cry so much. He thought you were already used to things like this - he thought you knew better than to show your tears to someone who would lick them all away and say that they tasted sweet. To be completely honest, he adores you. Your trembling body, your soft features, your everything - you beg him not to shoot a guy from another gang not because you really care about human life, but because the sound of guns going off makes you really, really sad. Poor little thing, he is buying your affection with stuff later - he is giving you nice gifts; for example, he wipes your face with an expensive handkerchief and smiles when you tremble even more under him.

[vultbae]

small world ❀

art donaldson x female reader

part two (soon)

↳ summary: Art and Patrick were once your peers at the Mark Rebellato Academy —not the nicest ones. Five years later, you've made a friend that can help you fuck with their minds a little.

↳ warnings: making out, dry humping, manipulation, a lot of pettiness, mentions of bullying, and weight!! the dumbification of art donaldson tbh

↳ notes: Istg I be having the most random ideas, but I hope you enjoy!! as always, english is not my first language lolz

word count: 3.1k

Tashi enters the living room with a bottle of champagne and two crystal flutes, moving gracefully in a beautiful blue mini-dress. With a soft pop, she eases the cork, instantly pouring the effervescent gold-ish liquid into the two glasses. 

"You shouldn't even worry about them," Tashi says with a wry smile. As she finishes serving you some rosé Veuve Clicquot, she hands you the glass. "What are you—like, the second or third in Europe? They are gonna be broke by their thirties," she concludes, staring at you with confident eyes.

You nod, taking a sip of champagne. "Don't see it as serious; it'll be fun."

Tashi raises her glass, a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. "Im just saying, don't stress over men."

You clink your flute against Tashi’s. "Alright."

A year and a half ago, you had met Tashi Duncan, who you believed was a hard-hearted bitch but ended up being a close friend of yours. She is merciless, proficient, and goddamn; she has that vicious aura you worship so much. While living in Biot, you'd always look for the nearest CRT to watch Tashi flawlessly play, enchanted by how she unnerved her adversaries.

During summer break, your father dragged you out of the academy to visit California for a benefaction event. Amidst the glamour and chatter of the event, you caught sight of Tashi —most likely attending due to her relevance spiking around the area. Luckily, your connection rapidly deepened, fueled by reciprocal admiration and tennis dependence.

And the commitment to stay in touch despite the geographical distance worked. Tashi became pretty much your best friend, and you became hers. Aside from the workaholic aspect, the resemblances between you were too much to ignore. Sooner than later, you discovered much about Tashi's personal life, the players she liked and despised, and her daily anecdotes regarding tennis and her intimate life. And that's how you became acquainted with Fire and Ice's peculiar hyper-fixation on Tashi.

Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig.

You thought it was a unique offering from God. You didn't expect you'd get the opportunity to face the golden pair again. When Tashi told you she had met Zweig and Donalson, a powerful sentiment of gratitude washed over you. You nearly fell to your knees when she proceeded to explain they were a walking boner for her. If that wasn't high power granting you a second chance to delight yourself, it was an insane coincidence.

But telling Tashi the backstory was a different pain in the ass. Although she expressed some sort of disgust towards Zweig and Donaldson's brainless carnal-based attitude, you couldn't buy it.  And your skepticisms were demonstrated as valid when she —dreamy voice and all that shit— confessed through the phone she nearly had a threesome with them. A fucking threesome. You couldn't hold it back anymore, so you told her everything.

Tashi was aware of tennis's influence on your household, as you were raised by two renowned tennis coaches from the States. When you turned eight, your parents turned you in at the Mark Rebellato Academy —as if you were condemned to play tennis by default. The detrimental part of your journey was developing thyroid issues when you were twelve. Jesus, twelve years old — the commencement of the preteen period where kids either kiss your feet or bully you. One year after, along with the anticipated weight gain, you met Art and Patrick. And as if you weren't unfortunate enough already, the two —who at the time looked like fucking Beavis and Butthead— decided they didn't like your physical appearance. They hated it.

“Hey, Y/l/n!” Patrick’s voice rang out, sharp and mocking.

You froze, your heart sinking to the underground. You tried to focus on your serve, but your hands were immobile. 

Patrick sauntered over, his smirk widening as he looked you up and down. “What’s the matter, Y/n? Ball too heavy for you to lift?”

You heard Art’s laughter behind your back. He joined in a kind of trembling voice. “Or maybe she’s saving her strength for lunch. She doesn't hesitate when it comes to eating.”

The echo of them and the rest of the kids on the court laughing was a sound that felt like daggers piercing your heart.

After two years of ceaseless bullying and humiliation—which also distracted you from tennis—your parents sent you to The Mouratoglou Tennis Academy in Biot, a small town in France. You are not sure if it was the harassment itself, the low self-esteem, or possibly your undeniable attraction for Donaldson. It didn't matter. By the age of seventeen, you were undoubtedly one of the major promises of European tennis.

So, explaining the theatrical, soap opera-like backstory to Tashi for your detestation of Zweig and Donaldson took time. But when you did, it was worth it because Tashi didn't distrust your testimony, and if anyone was exhilarated to play some moves against them at the beginning, it was Duncan. 

That's the explanation behind Tashi pitching a tremendous party to celebrate her commitment to Stanford. This was absurd, to say the least, considering she had college offers piling up, and no one doubted she would commit to a prestigious school. But Tashi knew you'd visit from France, and this was just the perfect instance to hook you up with both condemned.

Because, of course, her biggest fangirls would attend. 

It didn't take long until the country house was full of people ranging from Tashi's cousins to bare acquaintances. And spotting Fire and Ice was easier than you thought. 

Tashi elbows you discreetly and signs with her head the direction they are standing. "There they are."

Your gaze falls over Art, who is laughing with —who you assume is—Patrick. His features are sharper and more defined. The lanky, slender physique you remembered from his premature teenage years had filled out into a more athletic build, with broader shoulders tapering to a trim waist covered in a light pink shirt. His blonde hair, which was no longer too light, was now strawberry blonde-ish, slightly tousled, and cascading over his ears.

Patrick, standing a few feet away, was equally transformed. His brunette hair, just a bit longer than you remember, frames a face that had hardened over the years—angular jaw, defined cheekbones, and piercing eyes that seem to miss nothing. The fucking smirk is still there, and you can see how he displays it every two seconds at whatever thing Art is telling him.

The interior of your stomach resembles a volcano about to erupt. You feel ambivalent, so many emotions overlapping each other. You see two cute, hell, gorgeous guys, and you wish you could approach them without considering crucifying them before. And you can't help but feel envious at how effortlessly Tashi managed to tame Art and Patrick while the only thing you got from them was hostility.

Your eyes can't seem to unbuckle from them. Tashi catches you slightly frowning at the panorama, and she isn't certain if you are infatuated or planning murder on the spot. "Come on."

You have no time to react before Tashi leads you through some partygoers to reach where Zweig and Donaldson are. Like dogs sniffling fresh meat, it's pathetic how their heads twist simultaneously when Tashi approaches them, conversation instantly pausing. It is as if Tashi's presence was magnetic for them.

"Well, hello, both of you," Tashi greets them excitedly, still holding your hand. "Didn't think you'd come."

Art's eyes widen, "Are you kidding?" he's about to keep speaking, but his gaze merges with yours for a split second, and he shuts off. Dead. Silent. 

"—Stanford's a big deal, Tashi." Patrick interrupts, compensating for the awkwardness of Art's sudden number. "I had to drag this lazy fuck out of his bed, but we made it."

Suddenly, Art's out of the trance, tearing his blue eyes off you to bombard Patrick with a killer look. "Hey—shut up, Patrick."

Tashi sweetly, softly giggles at their word exchange. God, she's good, you think. Tashi turns to gesture to you, "This is my friend, Claire, by the way. She is visiting from the Mouratoglou Academy—

To be fair, Claire is a believable name.

"Wait, the Patrick Mouratoglou Academy? In France?" Art runs over Tashis's sentence, incredulously shooting you a broad-eyed glare. You nod in agreement, still processing you are having a civil conversation with Art Donaldson.

You feel Tashi squeezing your hand at your quietness.

"Yeah, you know it?" you timidly ask, forcing a polite smile that, if you were Art, you wouldn't buy it. But, of course, he's as dumb as a pigeon.

"Heck... Of course, I do. I wish I could go there."

Tashi smirks, enjoying the spectacle. 

Patrick’s investment in the conversation piques. "Mouratoglou, huh? That's impressive. Maybe we could hit the court sometime."

And that's the first time Patrick makes eye contact with you. He's stabbing you with his stare. You abruptly wonder if he's as dumb as Art, probably not. 

You squeeze Tashi's hand.

Tashi leans closer to Patrick, her voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "Hey, Pat... do you remember what you mentioned about erectile dysfunction? My aunt's a sexologist, I think—

Patrick loudly chuckles, apparently alarmed by the deficiency of filtering confidential information. "I need to smoke sum' stronger. Wanna come, Tash?"

Tashi purses her lips, casting a quick glance at you. "Sure."

Your point of view is like a sitcom scene, swiftly panning from Tashi's body leaving your radar to the boy in front of you, staring at you with soothing eyes and reddened cheeks. It's basically comical.

Art's eyes dart around the lively yard before landing back on you. He clears his throat. "So, uh, Claire? That's a cute name."

It takes tons of willpower not to drop the good girl act right there. You attempt to return the sentiment with a quirk on the corner of your lips. "I need to get a drink. Come with me?"

He shakes his head up and down, finding it easier than answering with words.

For the first time in a couple of months, the inside of Art's mind has more than a giant cardboard cutout of Tashi Duncan. He is in awe. 

You lead the way, weaving through clusters of drunk teenagers towards the house. You feel Art's gaze lingering on your back —or ass, you don't know—a magnetic pull that makes you hyper-aware of his presence.

You arrive in the kitchen and quickly grab a bottle of vodka, a can of soda, and a party cup. Art watches you closely with a look of hypnotic admiration as if you were concocting the most complicated cocktail in the world. You want to roll your eyes so badly.

"That dress looks amazing on you." Art blurts out, unable to contain his thoughts any longer. 

You look at him. Art is sitting on one of the high stools by the kitchen island, his elbow resting on the table's sleek surface, supporting his chin with his hand. There is a softness in his eyes completely foreign to you, an infrequent vulnerability that contrasts sharply with the characteristic asshole demeanor you remember.

To Art, you appear almost ethereal, like an ideal concept from a wet dream of his. His thoughts are a kaleidoscope of jumbled fragments of memory that make no sense. You look so familiar... but no. 

There's no way he would forget about you.

You glance up, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. "Thank you," you reply, handing him a drink.

Art sips on his red plastic cup, eyes hooked on yours. "So, uhm. I just realized I never introduced myself properly. Im Art—

"Yeah, Donaldson, I know." you cut him off, leaving him completely silent and confused. "I've seen you play. Not bad," you clarify, with an unconscious hint of pride in your voice.

Art's smile widens. "Wait, you've seen me play?" he exaggeratedly emphasizes me. 

You nod.

His eyes twinkle with excitement. There’s this sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "That's, uh, great. Next time you are watching, I'll play better..."

His innate nerdiness and try-hard flirtiness provoke nausea in you. If you didn't know him, it would be a different story. But seeing a former, intense crush who shamelessly bullied you for so long, giving you heart-shaped eyes...

It's fucking bizarre. And it pisses you off.

Art begins conversing about something else. You don't know what—tennis-related, maybe. You are not wearing earphones with noise cancellation, but you can't hear him anymore. It's a blur as his words course through one ear and depart through the other. Immediately. Your brain has simply blocked the action of listening to him.

You step closer, so close you can see the fine lines in his eyes, the flecks of green amidst the blue, with a hint of brown sectoral heterochromia on his right eye. You can smell the faint woody scent of his cologne, something spicy that makes you salivate. His lips keep moving, forming words that dissolve into the dim background noise. The music, the laughter, the chatter—they all blend into a distant hum.

Art's voice vanishes into oblivion as you fix your gaze on his mouth, the curve of his lips, the way they part and close as he speaks. "Art," you say, stopping him in his tracks.

His eyes flicker with uncertainty, puzzlement, and a spark of hope. His adam's apple throbs as he notices you staring at his lips.

You lean in, your breath mingling with his, your heart pounding in your chest. Your hand reaches up, fingers brushing against his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin and the slight stubble that prickles against your touch. Art's breath hitches, his eyes widening in surprise, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he leans in, too.

Your lips crash against his. Although you don't want to make it weird, you fail. It's not a gentle kiss or a precious, out-of-a-book lips meeting. It's fierce, instructing, a clash of sour sentiments and intent. You pour all your frustration, your pent-up anger, and your fucked-up desire to overpower him into that kiss. 

Art's shock melts away and quickly replaces it with an appetite that matches yours. His strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, his body pressing against yours. The kiss deepens, his lips parting to allow your tongue to explore, to taste the unmistakable flavor of cigarette and cheap vodka. You can feel the warmth of his breath and the way his hands tighten on your waist. It's almost as if he's frightened you'll pull away at some point.

And you can only fantasize about the moment you walk away.

—but not yet. You push harder, your fingers tugging slightly in his messy strawberry-blonde hair. He lowly moans into your mouth, a sound that dispatches a shiver down your spine. His hands roam your back, tracing the curve of your spine and dangerously lowering to your ass level. There's a distress in his touch you never thought would come from him.

The way he's dissolving under your venomous touch is already a win for you. You've managed to put him under you. And it's intoxicating, this control you have over him, this ability to make him forget everything else.

You pull back, your lips hovering just above his. Art's eyes are half-lidded, his lips swollen and ridiculously red from the intensity of the kiss. He looks at you in pure infatuation, "What- I... Did I do something wrong?"

You press a finger to his lips, silencing him again. "Come with me."

You peek at the party going outside—most people are outside. The living room is nearly empty, with a few alcoholized individuals entering the country house to refill their drinks. It's perfect.

You take Art's hand, your fingers lacing through his, and you lead him toward the sectional, six-seat couch in the center of the living room. You push Art down onto the couch, and he complies without resistance, his lust-drunken eyes never leaving yours; he nearly chokes on his spit at the sight of you slowly straddling him, your knees sinking into the soft cushions on either side of his hips.

"Jesus, Claire—"

You get the ick at the roleplay name Tashi baptized you with. 

"Shh," you whisper, leaning in to brush your lips against his in a soft, teasing kiss. "You never shut up, Donaldson."

And that's odd for him. He gives it a second thought because he isn't aware of how much he has talked, but definitely not that much. 

The overthinking vanishes as soon as you begin to kiss him again, slowly at first, savoring the way his lips deliciously move against yours. Art's hands rest tentatively on your hips, his fingers twitching as if afraid to hold on too tight. You guide his hands around your waist, urging him to hold you closer. His grip tightens, and you can feel the heat of his palms through the delicate fabric of your black mini-dress.

A sigh rolls out from your throat when you perceive something hard putting pressure against your core —which, because of the dress, is only shielded by thin lace panties. The coarse fabric of Art's light denim jeans rubs splendidly against your pussy. 

A primitive groan slips out of Art's lips the moment you grind your hips against his clothed dick. Suddenly, he breaks the kiss, and his eyes wander downwards. "Shit— you'll kill me," he pants into your mouth.

You pull back slightly, looking into his eyes. They're dark with craving, his pupils dilated. "Then let me."

You are about to attack his lips again, but he hesitates. You tilt your head in confusion, murmuring a low what?

Art starts to speak, his voice shaky and breathless. "I... I was wondering if you wanted to go back to my hotel with me."

Before you can respond, Tashi suddenly appears in your vision behind Art's head. "Claire, there you are," she says, fucking loud with a knowing, manipulative smile on her lips. "Your dad called, he's outside."

You feel a surge of delicious triumph as you see the apparent dissatisfaction in Art's eyes. 

"Sorry, Art," you say, standing up and smoothing your dress. "Maybe another time."

There’s a raw sadness in his eyes, an almost childlike hurt that he can’t quite conceal. He isn't even drunk; he's fully conscious of the stunning girl he just met and now is evaporating as if she was going to turn into a wolf at midnight or something. 

As you are about to disappear from Art's vision, he shouts at you, "I'll see you later, right?"

But you don't answer.

Instead, you hurriedly walk with Tashi to reach the front yard. 

"I didn't lie about your dad being here, though," Tashi clarifies, pointing at the big Jeep parked in front of the country house.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, a smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, alright." You glance back at the house to ensure you are out of earshot. "I think fucking him would've been better. Do you think he's gonna remember about this tomorrow?"

"Oh, yeah. This is definitely gonna fuck his head up for a while." Tashi chuckles, "he's pretty obsessive."

You feel a swell of fulfillment at your best friend's words. "How obsessive?"

Tashi smiles. "A lot."

❀

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ my muse (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : max verstappen x fem reader

summary : the chaotic private account of an artistic soul 💫

tw : fluff, a little chaos, suggestive

a/n : So this was requested anonymously, so if you are seeing this, Hope you like it 💫

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by max1, lordperceval, albono, lilihye, alexamiuex, and 37 others

maxwife the italian view 💫 one for the day ☀️ one for the night 🌝

view comments

albono you stare at him, he stares at the podium ✊🏻

max1 stop being sour about driving a cart

lordperceval your just lucky you have a good car

max1 “ i have the longest contract ferrari has ever offered” lordperceval dw max, lewis is joining the misery gang 😮‍💨 hamsandwich fuck you mate

maxwife the only way you are staying at Mercedes is if you bang Toto 😮‍💨

hamsandwich he already is fukinh me 🤺

maxwife Toto follows me -

hamsandwich WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU LET 40 YEAR OLD FOLLOW YOU! norizz and you are what- 18 ?

max1 YOU ARE MY WIFE Y/N, STOP FOLLOWING DILFS, TOTO 🤺🤺🤺

maxwife I was joking - fransisca.gnomes it's alright y/n, they all have a thing for Toto

totomercedes everyone, I am married and do not harbour any feelings for the same gender with all due respect

hamsandwich TOTO WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE !? max1 I will sign to Mercedes just for a shirtless pic 🚗 totomercedes check dms.

maxwife can. everyone. stop. simping. over. toto.

chillisainz lando, that ass be looking smashable 😮‍💨

norizz aww, my room is on 7th floor 🤭 georgey open the door, I am ringing the bell 💪🏻 maxwife if you want your balls to not be cut into pringles , leave my girlies and then suck your homies 🫷🏻 carmenvroom ily y/n 💌 maxwife I got your back @ carmenvroom and a knife and your balls @ georgey

lordperceval max,kiss me the way you kiss the trophy

maxwife OYE, STAY AWAY FROM MY HUSBAND 🤺🤺 maxwife MAX IS MINE 🤺🤺🤺🤺

max1 charles, in another lifetime 😞

maxwife yall are supposed to be driving cars on the grid

lordperceval yet we drive each other crazy @ max1 max1 🤭💌

maxwife yall are banned, that's it, OUT 🤺

liked by max1, albono, hamwich, fransisca.gnomes and 28 others

maxwife the muse and the art 💫

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max1 she gifted me the painting y’all

max1 I won in life 😙😌

alexmiuex love, we need to visit the museums together 🫶🏻

maxwife let’s ditch the men species carmenvroom count me in ✊🏻 fransisca.gnomes me too 🫶🏻😗

pierreneedsgas for gods sake, keep you wife away from mine

norriz did I miss something -

fransisca.gnomes when did I become your wife ?

lordperceval oh lord, GASLY KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT 🤐

maxwife OMG, KIKA mcdkcmdkcjdicjdicjdcijdcidjcidj

pierreneedsgas ITS OUT NOW, I SHOULD JUST TELL IT

hamsandwich my phone is out ☺️

albono his hands are shaking while typing 🌝

pierreneedsgas STOP ALEX ALBON

fransiscka.gnomes amour ❤️ ?

pierreneedsgas well, I wanted to do this in person, but ig my mouth spoiled it

pierreneedsgas Happy April’s Fool day 😊

maxwife that’s it, YALL ARE OUT INCLUDING MY HUSBAND

fransisca.gnomes girls, number 44

hamsandwich what?

carmenvroom ignore the real number 44

lordperceval Pierre, Alexandra just left the house

albono so did lily … max1 so did this account user

maxwife I have a name

max1 you are the love of my life, the reason I look forward to every day, the muse and the thrill to win each and every race max1 if you were not there, I would have not survived the lowest of my life max1 I want you to know that whatever I may say, I hold you above anyone else, and if needed, I would die for you without anything asked maxwife I am crying now 🥹 I love you so much my wdc ❤️ Pierre, take tips pierreneedsgas yes ma’am 🫡

[tojisun]

how does fwb hockey player simon met reader btw?

at a bar, born from a dare

your friends pulled you out of your dorm, ignoring your murmured grunts about how you have midterms to prepare for, and demanded that you let loose for once. to relax. to take it easy and take a dick, or whatever would help you unwind. you flipped them off but slipped into clothes that you feel pretty in.

and you are. damn you are.

simon doesn’t even know how he caught sight of you, just that one moment he was listening to mactavish talking about a tradition from his old team, and the next he was unable to tear his eyes off you.

you were…oblivious. uninterested, really, if it wasn’t for two of your friends noticing his blatant stares and turning to you to point at him as subtly as they could. of course simon still caught it because he was watching, vague interest exploding.

you turned to him, then, quickly. simon expected the shyness, or the flustered look especially because of his profession, but you had only looked back at him with a confused furrow in your brows and your lips pinched in wonder.

oh, he thought with a sudden giddiness. well, isn’t that something?

.

“jesus, look at that smouldering look,” sandy hisses, jabbing you at your side.

“ow!” you cry out, glaring at her, but she’s not even looking at you, her posture frozen as she looks at somewhere in the crowd.

you turned to your other friends, confused, but it was only theo who was looking back at you. he smiles, amused, and tilts his head to the side as if beckoning you to look.

you do so with a confused tilt of your head, your eyes roving past the loud crowd before finally landing on someone who—you blink in surprise—is already watching you.

oh but he is beautiful. he is big, his bulk obvious even underneath that hoodie, and tan. his eyes are narrowed in quiet scrutiny, but his cheeks are round in his little smile.

you wonder why such an intense man is staring at you like that. like you are all parts wondrous and interesting and just utterly captivating.

“bet you can’t even get him to kiss you tonight,” james teases, before you are jostled by the way he slings his arm around you.

you glare up at him playfully. “you sure about that, kacey?”

james grins. “a hundred percent.”

you shake of his hold on you, teasing anger rippling into quiet annoyance at the patronizing way he lifts his arms up in surrender.

“watch me,” you snarl, rousing from your seat and pointedly ignoring the hoots from your friends.

you’re barely out of hearing range before you hear sandy’s excited, “i can’t believe that’s—”

you don’t get to catch her next words, stomping your way towards the beautiful stranger’s table with your fists balled by your sides as you fake your confidence. his own friends seemed to have picked up on your presence, and you note how their conversation trickled, evanesced, until they’re all watching you now.

god, you want to hurl.

there’s absolutely no reason for these gorgeous men to be friends, let alone to be gracing your stumbling walk of shame—because what else could it be, at this point—with their intense gazes.

you feel inspected. judged.

this is so wrong. i should just turn around. i should just—

but your thoughts screech to a halt because beautiful stranger doesn’t let your doubts fester. he doesn’t let them bloat. instead, he stands from his group, flicks his friend’s ear after hearing whatever it is he must have murmured, and meets you half-way.

“hey,” you say, your voice cracking embarrassingly.

“hey to you too,” he replies and oh wow, his voice descends on you like fucking molasses.

then he grins, cheeky. “was your walk here to invite me out or?”

“please,” you continue to croak out. “unless you want to, uh, to stay?”

“god, no,” he says and devours the remaining space between you two. he raises his arm up in question, and you nod, giving it to him, before feeling the way he tugs you close to his side, his warmth rubbing against your own.

you watch him watch you.

oh this is awkward…

“i’m simon riley,” he finally says after a while.

you say your name in return, giving him a customer service smile. “nice to meet ‘cha.”

simon riley nods slowly, his brows furrowing adorably like he cannot understand what you are—which, honestly, rude, but whatever.

“so, uh. come, let’s?” you chirp.

‘come, let’s’? you scream to yourself. what are you? the pope?

he laughs, endeared anyway. “come, let’s.”

you ignore the mirroring yips from simon’s friends’ table and your own as you two walk out.

[bluetimeombre]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐨L 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐢e, p2

Deadpool and Wolverine but your Ladypool and an absolute SLUT for Wolverine.

[this is part two to basically what is just my dream. this goes from the last part to the end of the movie and yes there is the car smut scene in the middle. i am not a good smut writer but this is FLITHY, i had to take a step back. enjoy!]

part one

warnings/disclaimer: not proof-read, femreaderxwolverine, sexual content, smut, penetrative sex, oral (m!reciving), spanking, offensive language, cursing, daddy kink, being a whore for the man

The car ride must have gone on for an uncomfortable ten minutes before you broke it.

'So what's with the suit?'

'Drop it,' he warned.

'It's not that bad. It's sexy, in some parts.'

'Stop talking about it.'

'Did you make it yourself?' you asked. 'Did the X-men make you wear it, those fuckers. Friends don't let friends go out looking like they're a godsdamn Wolverine cosplayer.'

'Shut the fuck up about my suit.'

'Watch those frown lines angel baby, personally I'm into the old ragged, sexy, don't get too close to me you'll get hurt, but some miss the 2000's baby they knew.'

'Talk about something else!'

You rolled your eyes, whistling a tune to yourself. When that got boring, you started to mimic Spider-Man. God, what you would give to meet one of him in the void.

'Stop it,' he growled.

You shook your head and gave one last 'thwip'

Then maybe you let slip that it's not a guarantee for him to get his world fixed. And maybe Logan swerves in anger and puts the car in park,

Then maybe Logan gets angry and has a long rant at you about how nobody wants you or loves you and you have to pine over him because you never had a daddy that loved you (you couldn't tell if you were horny or hurt)

'I'm going to fight you now,' you told him.

He snorted. 'oh, are you?' but he wasn't laughing when you punched him square in the nose and a dribble of blood ran down his lips.

He dug his claws into your thigh and you screamed.

He grabbed your hair and slammed your head down on the radio, flicking through some Hugh Jackman hits before you settled on Casual by Chappel Roan.

Honestly, not what you were expecting.

He reached over and strapped you into your seat with the seatbelt and dug his claws deep into your stomach. He smirked in your face as your heavy eyes looked up to him. 'How'd you like that, Bub?'

You had the feeling this was going to take a very different turn. But not without you giving your own back.

He lunged in again for you but you retracted the seat and lifted a leg to his shoulder, kicking him away from you.

'I have to say, this isn't the way I imagined you in between my legs.' Still, you used the power of your thighs to slam him repeatedly into the door, until he stabbed you again.

You kicked him in the chest, sending him flying out the windshield.

You unbuckled the seat belt and smirked, ushering him back with your fingers.

Smut. Smut. Smut. Honda Odyssey smut. Smut. Smut. Smut. Honda.

When he lunged back in and dug his claws into your ribs, you hadn't expected him to kiss you, forcing his lips to mold into yours. His teeth bit down on your lip, opening up your mouth a moan and diving his tongue in.

He took out his knives and you pulled your head back to yell out in pain, even though they were already healing. And even if the yell of pain was more like a moan. 'Oh, you like that bub?'

You roll your head to look at him. 'Is that a claw in your pants or are you just happy to see me?'

He growls. Fucking growls and wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing until you open your mouth wide enough for him to shove his tongue in again. Your legs wrap around his waist, forcing his hips down to yours until you could feel the outline of his cock against your pussy.

When he pulls away, dragging you bottom lip with him, he spits into your mouth. 'All those filthy things you'd been spitting at me, think you can take it, bub?'

'Ha, let's see if you've got it in you, old man.' With the power of your thighs wrapped around him, you spun until you had him pinned under you.

For good measure, you punched him in the face again, blood coming to stain his perfect lips. Logan only grinned. He grabbed a fist full of your hair and pulled until the expanse of your neck was vulnerable to him. He bit down on your neck like a vampire in need for blood. He drew blood and there was nothing more sinful to you than when he pulled back and revealed a slither of your blood from the corner of his lips.

You licked at his lips, taking your blood.

His hands found your breasts under the suit and squeezed, groaning to himself at the feel of them. 'Why have a mouth, when you have these?'

'I'm sure my mouth can come in handy too, handsome.'

He chuckled and lifted your hips enough and then forced you back down on him until you were grinding down on his cock through your suits. His teeth grazed your nipples through the leather, tongue working against it. It was like another layer of skin.

You gripped his hair, moaning as you rocked your hips into him. Slowly, he took the zipper between your breasts and pulled it down until it revealed you in a lacy red bra.

'Of fucking course,' he groaned, lips wrapping around a nipple, teeth pulling on it as his palm reached out to give attention to your other one. All the while your panties (which you couldn't wait for him to see the colour of) grew damper the more you moved against him. Even you could see pre-cum staining his suit.

'Fuck, Wolvie,' you groaned.

'I know, bub. You just needed some attention, ay. Just needed big old me.'

You looked down at him, his saliva running down your breasts. 'Well, is it true? Are you Hugh down under?'

He smirked and pushed you off him just enough so he could un-zip his pants and free his cock. It slapped against the leather of his suit, the tip red and swollen, begging for your attention. 'What do you think?'

'Mama like,' you mumble, falling to your knees in the passenger seat. Yes, the passenger seat.

He wrapped your hair around his hand and pulled until you loomed over his cock. 'Gonna do something useful with that mouth, baby?'

'What? Like recite the opening of deadpool two?'

With enough chatter, Logan forced you down on his cock. He didn't wait for you to adjust and he seemed to not need to as you took control quickly.

He groaned when you swirled your tongue over his tips and then licked up and down like it was a popsicle. When you took him all the way until you were choking around him and hollowing your lips. He was bucking his hips up to you, chuckling and moaning at you.

'Oh, yes, bub, just like that- just like that,' he pulled at your hair as you took all of him in, hands messaging his balls. 'Bet you want me to tell you you've been a good girl, eh? Oh, you'd love that baby, but you haven't. You've- fuck just like that- you're a fucking lair, aren't you. Wanted me so bad you had to use that filthy mouth of yours to lie?'

You moan around him and bobbed the tip in your mouth, using your hands for what you couldn't take.

Logan's head rested back on the car seat as he bucked up into you and into you.

Your thighs squeezed together, your hand itching to help yourself out.

'You touch yourself bub and I'll have to spank you,' he threatened.

You immediately spread your legs and slide your fingers down the band of your panties.

Logan pulled you from his dick and all but forced you back up. The two of you fumbled with the zip of your pants, hitting your head in the process.

He caught sight of your panties once he'd pulled your leather pants down enough. Yellow. 'Oh you're fucking kidding me.'

You laugh. 'Well, when I knew I'd be seeing you I got pretty a little bit.'

His eyes were still trained on the panties that matched his suit. 'A little bit, huh? Shame I'm gonna have to ruin them.'

His claws came out and you shivered as the sharp blade slid down your stomach. 'Does this turn you on, baby? The blade, the pain. Fuck.' He used the tip to slice through your panties. When they fell away, he crumpled them in his palm and brought them to his face, to sniff them.

You moaned, hands on his shoulders. 'Oh you fucking animal.'

'Oh, you don't know the half of it bub.'

He took your hips and slowly- because no matter the heat and sweat between you- you'd need to take him in slowly. Your pussy sunk down on his tip and you both groaned, clutching onto each other. He watched as his tip disappeared into your folds.

'God, we should've done this in the bar,' you groaned. 'Or when I saw you in that patch.'

'What?' he asked.

'Nothing.' You perched yourself on his shoulder and sunk down deeper.

His jaw clenched, trying to keep in his groans as your walls clenched around him. 'Fuck, bub, you're so tight. God, bet that ex back home has never taken you the way you need, huh?'

You pull yourself back up, only to sink back into him. You repeat, until you bottom out on him, thighs to thighs, his balls resting on your ass.

Logan moaned, biting down on your neck as his hands wrapped around and cupped your ass, spreading your ass cheeks to fit in better. Then, he slapped the leather and the sound must have gone through the entire forest. 'This is what you wanted huh?'

You nodded, lifting yourself up and down on his cock, walls fluttering every time. You moan his name.

He slaps your ass one more time. 'Call me Wolverine.'

You moan it out.

'There's my good girl. Count for me, baby.' With each slap he gave your red leather ass, you moaned a number and every time you got it wrong, he slapped you in the face.

You got it wrong many a time.

You rode him like a cowgirl. 'Shit, fuck, Wolvie I'm gonna. I'm gonna.'

He laughed and left your ass alone and played with your clit, sending you over the edge. 'Fuck!' neither of you had anything left to say as you both came, him shooting his seed inside of you while your juice ran down his cock.

The both of you were a sweaty mess, hair sticking to your foreheads. It took you a while of catching your breath before you carefully moved from his cock, your walls clenching to get the last bits of him inside. He groaned.

You fell back in the seat next to him. 'I take it all back, the Honda Odyssey fucks hard,' you turn your head to consider Logan. 'Shame you don't, old man.'

He growled, turning to you. 'Oh, we're just getting started, bub.'

Smut done. Go seek Jesus. Go drink some holy water. Go cool off.

Back to our regular scheduled programme.

Once the two of you were done Logan had you tied up in seat belts, kinky, but also to keep your hands off him. Neither of you had any idea you'd been moved until you woke in a bed, moaning Logan's name.

Logan was over in the corner drinking, the arms of his suit ripped off from your activities.

'Oh, arms out. What's next, tits?'

Then, walked out the 'others' Johnny. Elektra. Blade. Gambit!

You could've sworn you heard boss music somewhere.

'And who's this succulent man? You should've been in the car earlier,'

'My name is Remmy, but you can call me Gambit.'

'I'm so sorry beautiful, I want this to be gentle but who is your dialect coach, the minions? I feel like we're missing critical exposition here.'

'There's four of us,' Elektra told you.

'Four of you? Who's the fourth? Is it Magneto? Dear please god let it be young Magneto!'

'Magneto's dead.'

'Fuck!'

Then the fourth was revealed. Laura. X-23 'Holy shit, Logan, that's her, that's X-23.'

But the man carried on drinking.

'Even our sweet baby angel Johnny Storm went missing two days ago,' the Gambit told you.

'Oh I am so sorry. Whoever this Johnny is I'm sure he's doing well. And looking even better.'

Together, the five of you worked together to work out what to do, how to take Cassandra down, excited by the idea.

'Let's fucking go!' said Laura.

You cheered. 'Let's fucking go!'

'You're all fucking dead.'

You whip around to him. 'My god, Gorgeous, read the room.'

Later that night, you finally had the season three emotional opening act, Logan opening up to Laura about what really happened to the X-men in his world. It was tragic. Really it was.

As Laura left, you replaced her seat.

He grumbled, taking a swig of the bottle as you pulled off your mask, getting a look at him. 'I'm not in the mood, bub.'

So, unlike you, you didn't make any innuendos. Instead, you slowly wrapped an arm around his shoulder and even slower, he rested a head on your shoulder and you settled for that.

So the six of you- yes, including Wolvie from the boot- made your superhero opening.

You and Wolverine made it to the British villain two, were very quickly, she knocked you out.

'Finally, nice to give someone else a chance to talk,' said Cassandra.

'Not my strong suit,' said Logan, who was just as quickly overpowered. Cassandra thrust his claws into the ground, forcing him on all fours.

You woke up just to take a picture of that.

Cassandra looked into Logan's brain; beyond all that pain, there was something else. 'My, my, what did you get up to in that car?'

But she never got to find out as you- who had woken whilst Logan distracted her- and slammed Juggernot's helmet over her.

'Only I'm allowed to mess with his head, bitch,' you said.

'Damn right,' he grumbled.

You blushed like a schoolgirl. 'Finally!'

In the end, Logan had to be noble and take the helmet from her to save her life, only to be the man Charles wanted,

But god was it a powerful speech that left both of you speechless. In the end, your arms dropped but the two of you still got through the portal in time to get back to your universe.

The two of you crashed down onto a car, the kids gasping that it was Ladypool and Wolverine.

'Fox killed him, Disney brought him back. They're gonna make him do this until he's ninety!'

The two of you ran back to the subway base that was really the TVA, but got gate-crashed by both villains.

'Oh, so this is a foursome thing now?'

Cassandra sent you flying through a shop window for that.

When the two of you got back up, the portal was still open and, to your delight, dogpool ran back out, straight to your arms. You caught her and let her lick all over your mask despite the filthy things Logan did to it.

'There's my girl, we never have to be parted ever again,' you told her.

'Sorry!' Nicepool ran out.

'Fuck off! Cafe gratitude. Right, that's it girl, who's it gonna be, Van Wilder here or sexy hot mama?'

'Ha, that's funny, I can gently tap the fourth wall to,' said Nicepool 'Are you Hugh down under part two.'

'Thank you very much, Nicepool,' you said.

'Both of you shut up. I smell a lot of you,' said Logan.

From the portal, walked out a hundred deadpools. Including deadpool prime (whatever that was) kidpool, welshpool, oldpool, greatestshowmanpool.

First, you and Wolvie ran, using Nicepool as a cover, turns out he doesn't regenerate.

Then, you and Wolverine walked out together looking fucking awesome, which only got cooler when Logan pulled up his cowl.

'Woah, wish you'd shown me them in the car. Hey, what's the wind resistance on those blow job handles.'

'Find out later, Bub,'

You were so wet.

When the two of you made it down to the reactor, to stop Cassandra, it was you or him for the final noble sacrifice and to hell if you were gonna let him win.

Before Logan could close the door, you hit him over the head and locked him out.

'No!'

'Sorry babe, I can't hear you over all my noble sacrifice!'

'Why are you fucking doing this?' he yelled.

'Because. I am... Iron man.'

You made some rude gestures to him before you walked away to save the world.

And you were so close, so close to winning it all. You had one reactor, all you needed was the other but you were running out of time.

You would've if it wasn't for Logan grabbing your hand and finishing the chain.

The power ripped his shirts to shred and you stared unashamed of how much you stared.

'Who greased up those delicious hawian rolls?'

'In stopping her, yes, yes I was! But not as much as the man and woman who went down there after her! My man and woman, my friends. I warned them that they'd be obliterated if they went but they went anyway. Like heroes. Because that's who they were, they did what they had to do with no concern for their own safety. The fact we are still standing here is a testament to their bravery. Anyway there's nothing you or I can do to bring them back now,' said Paradox.

'He hath risen, babygirl!'

'Fuck!'

You and Logan walked out. Well, Logan walked out, you were on his back getting a piggy back ride while everyone drooled at the sight of Wolverine,

'And we're doing just fine you piece of shit,' said Logan.

Everyone agreed.

Logan let you down but you dragged your hands dramatically down his abs as he did.

A lady offered him a hoodie but you quickly stole it and cut it up before he had a chance to cover up.

Because of all your good deeds, you were allowed to take Logan home with you, and he was happy to join,

You even got Laura back for him and dogpool so you could all be a family.

You and Logan fucked like rabbits that night.

taglist (thank you!): @allmyn1ghts, @nonamevenus, @pink-jello-fish, @maneskinwh0re, @chaoticcreatorbluebird, @shakysif, @groovycass, @geeksareunique, @gotta-go-now

[osamucide]

thinking abt bsd men after u leave a lipstick mark on their faceedd

this is an ages old ask but it really struck me today… anon you’re so right���.

I know CHUUYA buys you the most expensive lipstick. He knows you don’t mind a decent drugstore lip if it means he doesn’t have to break the bank, but sometimes he can’t help himself—he loves to spoil you. He loves an autumny shade on you, one that almost matches his hair, but his favorite is that rich garnet Guerlain Rouge G, and he wears your $80 lipstick kisses all day like badges of honor. (He might even hairspray it a little so it doesn't sweat or rub off.) The last thing an enemy will see before Chuuya empties a clip in their skull is the deep red kiss mark you left on his jaw that morning before work <3

ANGO is not a shallow man, but I think he loves the old-money feel of having your lipstick marks all over him, especially near the corners of his mouth. Another one who won't hesitate to open up his wallet, I can see him seeking out velvety vintage lipsticks for you to smudge all over his shirt collar. He does hope that the pigment distracts from the blush dusting his face, though—no matter how many times you stain his pretty face, and no matter how hardnened of a gangster he is, he still gets all giddy and hot when you shower him in such affection. Might have to pull you into the nearest bathroom to see where the color looks stained elsewhere. . .

Your ever-enthusiastic NIKOLAI already thinks of your kisses as rewards, but this—oh, god, seeing the true red creme lipstick, the one you let him pick out, decorating the corners of his cheeks makes him absolutely glow. The gentle dot where you pecked the tip of his nose matches his aesthetic so well; he thinks he should go out like this all the time, you should do this every day, and he'll beg you for more, more lipstick kisses! Until you can hardly see an inch of his pale skin from the neck up. You'll just have to move to his hands next! It might look ridiculous, but he never feels more beautiful. How wonderful it is, he thinks, to be adored by you.

Now, BEASTZAI and his mental gymnastics. . .he'll flip the script in his mind and puff himself up with the notion that your lipstick kiss on his cheek is somehow another token of his ownership over you. After all, you're the only one he'd ever, ever, in a million years, allow close enough to his person to leave such a mark. He'll protest emptily about how it'll diminish his prestige in front of his subordinates, but it's not like they don't already know he's just as whipped for you as you are for him—and he knows this too deep down, so he won't move to wipe it off. In fact, he finds himself going out of his way to preserve it all day until evening when he's home and you can cover him in the other kind of kiss mark <3

And finally, I think canon timeline DAZAI would eat it up for the purest reasons of any of these men. Of course he'll tease you about it, lecture you playfully about how insatiable you are—you just have to let everyone know he's yours, huh? But, really, when he shuffles off to the bathroom and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror with your tender kiss preserved on the arch of his cheekbone, tears threaten his lashline. He can't pull his eyes away from it. He won't cry, he can't fuck it up—but he lets his fingers hover over it, amazed at such concrete evidence of your love for him. He tries not to think about it too hard while he barges back out into the office where you've brought him lunch, half-singing, half-begging for more lipstick kisses on the beautiful face of your beloved boyfriend, please!

[neonovember]

Oh my GOD oh my for okay though that new fic you wrote with Carmy? 12/10 chefs kiss mwah mwah MWAH!! 💕💕💕 That part with Carmy going ballistic and beating the shit out of that asshole customer I LOVED it!! Now it’s got me thinking of Carmen going absolutely feral, just insane if he’s in the kitchen cooking and calling orders, while you’re out front taking orders from customers. He and the rest of the kitchen just go silent and stop in their tracks when they hear a guy just screaming at the top of his lungs at you, using the absolute most vile words against you and Carmen just sees red, especially if whoever it is ups and yells something along the lines of “You stupid fucking whore-“ and Carmen’s just a blur as he POUNCES on this guy. (Richie’s either cheering him on or trying with all his strength to claw Carmen off before he straight up kills the guy)

Office Doors

Oooh you guys are spoiling me rotten with these requests…I love a good feral fic every once in a while and this one was..well you'll know what i'm talking about once you've read it ;) I haven't written Carmen in a day and I miss him already, school has been up my ass so if you have sent me a request, don't worry it's being written, and re-written and-. Thank you anon for getting my gears going and your lovely messages 🥰🥺 ur support means the world

warnings: swearing, objectification and misogyny, angst, oral (f recieving), smut, thigh riding (?), porn with plot, feral!carmen

carmen berzatto x reader!

(This is totally and completely canon btw)

You stretch your body across the diner tables, dipping a dirty cloth into lukewarm soapy water before rinsing it out. The lunch rush had just slowed to a even pace, the sound of Carmen yelling out dishes from his line finally quieting down.

You have just a little time to spare, and you spent that time quickly wiping down the Beef’s tables that had begun to accumulate a few too many stains and unfinished crumbs of bread.

You had grown up in a home that was always messy, all the time. And no matter how much times you had asked, and no matter how much times you had just done the chores themselves, the clutter of dirty dishes and old wet clothes in the laundry had permanently been embedded into your family home.

It’s partially why you had loved the sterile laboratory of you culinary kitchens. Clutter caused your skin to itch with anxiety, it made you feel dirty, and with the way you scrub the diner tables a little too hard you wonder if it's another one of the many joy’s your family had given you.

And whilst the Beef was so different from your environment back in culinary school, it wasn’t necessarily worse. In fact, you had grown to fall in love with the quirks of the kitchen, the ‘fuck you carmen’ napkin holder, the too small walkway, the framed pictures of beloved regulars and the staff’s families. Most of all, however, was the family you had built here, the kind you couldn't find working under a domineering CDC.

The kind that had always been waiting for you, been planted deep into the earth like roots.

Besides, you and Carmen had bonded together during the late nights after most of the family had gone home. Were you both were left, scrubbing the floor together in a rhythmic silence that seemed to be more therapeutic than work.

You’ve nearly finished wiping down the last of the stools perched against the counter top of the front when a loud guffawing causes you to break your trance-like state.

Jovial yelling breaks into the rarely quiet restaurant as the door swings open, and a stream of rowdy men dressed in pullovers and fleece jackets, with scarves and basketball hats of distinct sport team colours wrapped around their necks.

One man is fully decked out, sporting the jersey and beanie of what seemed to be a hockey team. The boom of his voice indicates he was the loudest too, unaware of the grumble of patrons around the restaurant that had grown annoyed at the man's violent rambling.

You breath out a sigh, finishing off wiping down the bar stools and putting the bucket of dirty water under the front counter. Before ironing out any creases in your apron and preparing yourself for the absolute headache this would cause.

They were a familiar bunch, usually coming in after games late after the dinner rush. It seemed there was a game during the early morning, as they grumble about not having anything to eat the entire day.

Their loud and annoying and swear too much and Carmen hates the way one of them looks at you but they order a shit ton of food and fuck if the bear needs money, what can you say.

Your eyes glance at a cup of coffee Richie had accidently left under the register, and you suddenly crave your afternoon pick me up well after the afternoon. The men begin walking up to the register, ignoring your polite greeting and going straight into listing off items from the menu as if you were a machine. You nod along all the words they were saying, and soon enough you give up on writing it down as they’ve practically ordered the entire menu safe for a few appetiser's. 

“Make it quick, yeah? We’re bloody starving '' One of the men calls out from his seated position in one of the booths and you give them a tight lipped smile, resisting the urge to throw that coffee mug at him. 

Carmen peeks his head from the entryway leading to the kitchen, his unruly ashy blonde curls falling to the sides as he shares a look with you,  as if to say ‘you alright? And you nod in that unspoken way the two of you have and tell him that you can handle it. Working in a kitchen didn't have to teach you how to deal with assholes, you had your family to thank for that one again.

You hear the familiar sound of Carmen shouting out orders, and the sizzle of pans and boiling pots increase in order to push out the lengthy order before more foot traffic would pour in. 

You’re trying to fix the register when it happens, something gets caught in the old janky machine, causing the cash drawer to get stuck as you have to hit its sides at a certain angle to get it to open up again. Years and Carmen refuses to get it fixed, or buy a new one all together, resorting to having it taped up and banged every couple hours to get it working again.

You almost don’t see him, until he is leaning against the counter, into the space between the cash register and you, a greasy smile pulling at his features and he watches you. You bite back a grimace at the way his eyes trail down your apron, fixated on the dip of skin that peeks from the top of your shirt.

“Something you need Sir?” You ask politely, taking a tentative step back, your hand gripping the edge of the counter.

The man smiles strangely at your comment, cocking his head to the side before replying suggestively

“I definitely want something”

You cough, biting back your knee-jerk response to hurl at him, you can feel the burn of embarrassment against your cheeks and you swallow as you try to reply with a steady response.

“You’re food will be out in a short-while-” 

“You know, I think I’ve seen you around here, are you new to town?” The man tries to strike up a conversation

“Came here a few years ago and haven’t left since” You reply with a tight smile

“Ah! I know where you're from exactly now” The man replies with a grin that pulls his face upwards, it's eerie, his smile, like he knows something he shouldn't.

“There’s this porn star online, looks exactly like you, it’s kind of insane” The man replies with a smile that deepens as you stammer

You feel humiliated as you stare back at him, you don’t know what to say, and his eyes continue trailing down your body in a way that makes you feel disgustingly objectified. He’s reduced you to an object for him to gawk at, and you see the way the men behind him jeer and laugh that this is all a play to intimidate you.

You want to run straight home and scrub yourself clean, wash away the feeling of his imprinted gaze down the drain.

“You think we can recreate one of her videos when you get off work here?” The man replies, a glint in his eyes.

“What? You- you” You stammer and he breaks out into a laugh

“Awh, look at her, fucking shaking. Don’t tell me this is your first time?” The man eggs on to his friends, who have begun laughing and cheering him on.

You grit your teeth, trying to get the words out as you glance towards the kitchen, where was he? He leg twitches in want, wanting to get Carmen, wanting to run from the restaurants, wanting to run from the embarrassment and disgust you felt.

The flashes of Richie and Syd passing by is all you can see, the booming voice of Carmen being too wrapped up in the orders to notice what was happening.

“C'mon, just give me your number” The man presses on, leaning in so that only you can hear “It isn't like I don't know where you work” Before he leans back, muttering a halfhearted kidding under his breath

“You are disgusting” You spit out, trying to sound as confident as you can, and the mans eyebrow twitches, and he cocks his head like he was confused.

“What? I’m doing you a favour here, I'm actually a nice guy you know? Not one of those assholes on the street” The man scoffs, moving closer towards you and you have a feeling the man is waiting for a reason to lunge at you.

“Just, just take your food and your buddies and go alright? There doesn’t have to be a fight or-or” You continue, trying to de-escalate the situation and get him to just leave you the fuck alone.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m doing you a fucking favour and now your kicking me out?” The man begins to get heated, and his friends behind him watch on in silence, you can notice other customers begin to look your way, sensing the rising anger filling the room. You slowly step back, looking for something to shield yourself in case he comes at you.

“What, you think because you work you have some- some what, control? I don't think you know how this works doll, you give me your number, and I dump my load in you because your nothing but a stupid fucking whore” The man bellow, it’s so loud that it echoes through the Beef, that it reaches even the kitchen sinks where Manny is washing up. 

The man’s face grows red as the veins near his neck begin to pop out, he emphasises the last word, spitting it out like that was all you were.

The restaurant goes silent as the man heaves in exertion, the sound of Carmen shooting out orders is mute now, the slice of steel against bamboo stops, and the bear is fucking quite for the first time since it opened. 

Your body is pushed against the wall, near the swinging doors into the Kitchen, and you can see Carmen back to you, he has stopped cutting at his station, and the outline of muscle contracts under his white shirt.

Carmen turns, slowly, he turns to the family, as they all momentarily stop their tasks in shock at what they had just heard. He begins to chuckle a little to himself, as he replies in a quiet voice you and the man can still hear.

“What did he just say?” 

“Did he really say that? Did he really?” Carmen laughs to himself, nodding and gripping his hands into tight fists as the restaurant air gets thin. The man who had been screaming at you looks towards Carmen in confused fear, not knowing why this man was laughing and yet understanding he had completely fucked up.

The rest of the patrons can hear Carmen’s words, eyes widening, as they realise they were about to be collateral to a very one sided beat down. The crew looked at Carmen in silence, they had been used to Carmen's hot-headed temper, his bursts of anger that was more passion than rage. But this? This quiet silence of Carmen’s words, the way his chest heaves as you glances at your frightened position against the wall? They genuinely feared what he would do next, a silent rage like no other begins to envelop the restaurant, the air thin and suffocating as Carmen begins to walk through the kitchen and into the front counter.

“Don’t call an ambulance this time” Carmen mutters to Richie as he passes him by, Carmen’s eyes are fixed on you, trailing down your body before fixating on the shake of your hands. Carmen knows you well, and it’s the clench of your throat, like you're suffocating, like you can’t breath that snaps something in Carmen.

A malevolence Carmen has never felt spills into his gut, the burn of anger spreading against his chest until hes practically shaking with it, he is filled with this heart ache, like his heart is split in two and gushing as he realises his been cutting fucking chives whilst you nearly died. 

And something predatory fills Carmen, like he must prove to himself he can protect you, and in one swift move, like muscle memory etched into his bones, Carmen jumps over the front counter and swings his fist in one clean motion, knocking the man across the room.

The man’s body crumbles as he slams into the hardwood floor of the Beef, the immediate groan of twisted pain and pleads leave the man's mouth and Carmen is just so sick of his goddamn voice. 

It all went quiet then, the noise of Sydney yelling, of his friends, of the man’s heaving wet coughs, the air conditioner, all white noise. Carmen’s hand reaches for his ankle, dragging him back from his crawling escape.

“Oh, no no no, we’re not escaping now are we?” Carmen grunts, his voice lower than it usually is.

Carmen  wraps an arm around his throat, holding him there as he brings down his fist across his face. The wet sound of bones crunching into muscle and skin go on forever, bouncing across the room until the throaty heave of the man is all that is left of him. Carmen cannot stop the swing of his fists, something possesses him and as one of the men in hockey colours tries to grab Carmen arm he throws him back into the stack of barstool's piled near the tables. He is facing his back to you again, and you state, fixated on how his body moves to support him, the contracts and outline of his strong back, his large forearms that break bone with a mere swing.

His face swollen beyond recognition, piss and blood leaking from him, eyes bloodshot and awry. 

Carmen picks him up by his collar, the smudge of blood dripping down and staining his vest, whispering into his ear as the man’s eyes widen in harrowed fear.

“Apologise”

“..Whatnhn?” The man mumbles, the feel of his tongue swelling up and going numb, Carmen presses a hand against the man's bruised stomach, pushing  against the broken bone of his ribs until the Man wails in agony. 

“Apologise to her or I swear to god I’m breaking your fucking legs” 

The man spits out an apology, but you’re not looking at him, staring transfixed at Carmen,  at the way he’s golden curls fall across his eyebrows, at the way his muscles flex against his white shirt, at the way droplets of blood are splattered across the skin of his jaw. Carmen looks towards you, and something dark takes over his cerulean blues, blowing them out.

“Do you accept? Huh honey?”

You nod, letting an exhale out and Carmen tosses the man to a pile on the floor, reaching for your hand and dragging you to the office, you can hear the scatter of shoes as the men drag their friend out of the beef, and the crew looks towards each other in satisfaction, but also in knowing, in knowing they wouldn't dare open those office doors.

The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.

The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.

“You didn't- didn’t have to” You mumble, your voice caught in your throat for a different reason.

Carmen looks down at you, shaking his head in amusement

“Don’t lie to me, you enjoyed that more than I did” Carmen whispers, leaning down near your ear, pressing his nose against the curve of your neck.

You let out a breathless sigh, and Carmen groans as he smells that familiar  vanilla always hinted on your skin Carmen could smell when you passed by you. Now, now, he can practically taste it right on his tongue.

The truth was, you did enjoy it, despite being non confrontational and cringing every time Richie would show you a fight where the crunch of bone on gravel makes you shudder, you were transfixed by Carmen. 

By the way he broke the man to a heaving mess with just his fuckinf fists, those same arms that are edging closer and closer to you, how would they feel between your thighs? The thought wraps itself tight in your belly, and you have to squeeze your thighs for friction.

No one had done that to you, no one had done that for you, and in a strange way it felt nice to be protected. To be wanted, and it causes a need to start building deep within you. 

Carmen's eyes fall to you, and his eyebrow twitches as a look of guilt washes over his features.

“I should’ve been there, I- fuck, did he do anything? Let me get a look at you” Carmen replies softly, grabbing your wrists to look for any bruises he feared you had.

“I’m fine, just a little, uhm, shaken up you know? Said some pretty horrible things” You reply, scratching at your neck as your mind replays the way he had reduced you to a thing.

Carmen shakes his head, his teeth grinding as he grips his fists, his biceps flexing. 

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that, deal with people like fucking him, I swear to god if I find him on the street I’m gonna-“

“Gonna what? Finish off the job? There is always going to be guys like him, that isn’t going to change, and it’s something I have to deal with. But what I can’t deal with is if you get yourself thrown into a jail cell because of-of me” You reply, shaking your head and Carmen looks at you like he’s in love.

Gripping a hand to your chin, Carmen raises it so that you catch the burn of his cerulean blues as you can see.

“And That would be an honourable death for me” Carmen mutters, and you can’t take your eyes off him, until you're gripping his blood stain shirt tight against your chest until the suppression groans leaving his mouth are kissed into your neck.

You want him, want to taste him on your tongue, want to feel his weight against it. 

“Fuckin come here” Carmen groans out, reaching to wrap his hand around your jaw as he presses his lips against your own. The muffled of your moans escape your lips and Carmen slips his tongue between them. 

His pillowy soft lips wrap around your own, his nose bumping into your cheek as he wraps an arm around your back, pushing you against the office doors. It’s all teeth and tongue, the clash of teeth and muffled groans leaving the both of you. 

The suppression of both your desires falling between you two until you don’t stop to come up for air. 

It’s addicting the way he kisses you, and you have to grip his shoulder as an anchor as he begins to trail his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling at the skin there before dipping down to your clavicle. 

You let out a moan as he blows cold air against the dip of your breasts, and Carmen looks down at you, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you shiver, waiting for him to give you what you want.

Carmen rips open your shirt, his eyes trailing across the curve and dip of your breasts, he mutters something under his breath, something like “beautiful” as his finger trailing the lace before unclipping it and tossing it behind him. 

Carmen cups one of your breasts, circling your nipple before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, you arch your back to him, and he follows it until he rests and your hip, squeezing the skin there as his eyes roll back at the taste of you.

“Please..” You groan out, your eyes watching the way Carmen pressing soft circles into your skin, he looks up at you in confusion, the hint of a smile curving at his lips.

“Please what?” Carmen replies, sucking bruises beneath your tits, drawing it out on purpose, having too much fun watching you suffer.

“Nmfha” You mumble incoherently when Carmen flicks his tongue around your nipple, whilst squeezing the other in his cold hands.

“I can’t hear you, what do you want?” Carmen replies with a hint of a moan, he’s having trouble himself, bucking his hips up into you as he watches the way you shake from his lips

“Wanna feel you Carm, wanna taste you” You groan out with a moan, Carmen grunts at your response, his eyes growing dark and heavy, and in one swift move, he hoist you up and swipes the coffee mugs and papers left scattered across his desk before placing you on the edge.

You spread your thighs, making room for him and he steps between them. 

“You wanna feel me sweet girl? You want me to take care of you? Please let me take care of you” Carmen pleads, rutting up against you as he tries to suppress the want pressing tight against his jeans.

“Carm” you groan out as Carmen tugs your jeans down leaving you in your lace underwear that Carmen grinds his jaw at, you don’t realise it but Carmen blue apron is discarded somewhere in the room, and as he carries you towards the coach you tug at his white shirt. 

He rips it off him in one move, and you drag your fingers across the deep of defined muscle that flexes under your touch.

Carmen moves your thighs so that you're pushed towards the edge of the couch, and he kneels between you, pressing a soft kiss to your knee, before trailing up your thighs. Carmen had been teasing you before but now there is a frantic eagerness in the way he touches you, like if he doesn’t taste you on his tongue he might combust.

Carmen hooks a finger into your underwear,pulling them down until you were bare for him. Carmen’s eyes glisten as he states at you, naked under him and sweating. God the image imprints in his mind and he wishes he can stay here forever.

Carmen presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, and your thighs shake in need, Carmen flicks his eyes up to you, and keeps eye contact, as he licks one long strip across your folds, closing his eyes and he groans at the taste of you. You contort you back at the pleasure the waves through you, eyes rolling back at the pressure of his tongue sucking your clit.

“Fucking- taste so” Carmen mumbles, before dipping his tongue between your folds, dragging it up and down, the sound of your heightened moans ripping through him. 

Dipping his tongue in your hole, Carmen pushes a finger between your thighs, presses soft circles around your clit as his tongue works your folds. Your thighs shake around the curls of his head and he pushes a hand down at your stomach to stop you from moving, making you take every wave of pleasure he pulls from you.

“Carm, please, they’re going to hear us” You groan out, and Carmen shakes his head, causing his tongue to drive deeper into you, before looking up at you, 

“Let them” 

Carmen stretches you out with his tongue, pushing it into you and out until your heaving, his thumb is pressed against your clit, and he pushes a finger into you before sucking onto your bud. 

You begin to see flashes of stars, as he thrusts a finger into your hole whilst sucking you, he scissors you open, curving his finger in a way that hits a particular spot that has you raising your hips, trying to pull yourself off of him, the white hot burn of pleasure getting too much.

“There baby? Right there?” Carmen groans out, thrusting his finger to hit that spot over and over

Carmen grips your hips, pushing you down, deeper, harder onto his mouth and fingers, pressing a second digit into you as he curves it to pull that sweet moan from your lips.

Carmen had many names, but his favourite was the broken syllabus of his own between your lips when you fell apart on his tongue.

“S’ close, so close Carmy, please” You babble out, before resigning yourself to the burn of pleasure the feels like fucking nirvana, it’s all around you, Carmen, this pleasure, it’s all you can taste.

“I know baby, I know, I’m going to take care of you okay, sweet girl?” Carmen groans, thrusting his hips into the floor, searching for friction as he watches the way your eyes roll back.

Carmen laps at your core, pushing the digits deeper, curving them upwards until you were screaming, he pushes your face down to look at him, he wants to see your face as you fall apart, and the coil that has begun to wrap itself tight snaps when he nibbles at your over sensitive clit and you see the way his dark eyes watch you, his eyebrows furrowed and your slick coats his chin.

You can’t feel anything but the white hot pleasure that rocks through you, you aren’t in your body, floating away in the pure saccharine pleasure of Carmen’s tongue and he laps at the pleasure dripping between your folds. 

You mumble incoherent words, the only thing leaving your lips is Carmen’s name as you babble, spit dripping from your open mouth as you're left in a heap, Carmen leaving you dumb.

Carmen works you through your release, licking and sucking at your sweet slick that he gathers on his tongue. You see the way he thrusts into the carpet, trying to find friction as the scene in front of him becomes too much.

The thought splits something within you, seeing how Carmen got off to getting you off was out of this world, causing the pleasure to start building in your core again. 

You drag Carmen up to meet your lips, and then push his tongue between your lips, causing you to taste him on your tongue. Carmen pushes his finger between his lips, sucking on the shine of slick coated there, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you grind your hips against him. 

He pushes his digits into your mouth, groaning at the way you suck on them eagerly. You push him to lean his back against the coach, before manoeuvring your hips to straddle him.

You rock your hips against his jeans, feeling the way the indent pushes and bumps against your core, Carmen throws his head back, his curls falling over his forehead and he grabs your hips, pushing you deeper, down down down until he is thrusting up into you.

You grip his shoulders raising your hips before pulling his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion. Carmen forces himself to look down at you, his gaze watching the way you tug at his length, swiping a thumb across the red tip, dragging pre cum down the thick girth of him.

Carmen groans out, gripping your hips tight, and you raise up, lining yourself perfectly before sinking down on him.

Carmen’s groans are beautiful, rumbling from his chests as he squeezes his eyes shut, you fit so perfectly around him, the heat and warmth and slick of you wrapped tight around his cock. His length is thick and girth, and you have to adjust to his size, moaning at the way he fills you up just right.

As you begin to move, Carmen presses a hand, begging for you to wait

“Just, one second, fuck you feel so good I might cum from one thrust” 

“Who says this is a one time thing?” You reply with a wicked smile, and Carmen groans loud at that.

You raise your hips, dragging your self on him before sliding down, your grind against him and he heaves in the pleasure of your tightness around him. 

It had been so long, and the feeling of you is almost too much. 

You struggle to raise your hips high enough, and Carmen wraps his hands tight around your hips before raising you himself, driving himself up into you and thrusting hard.

This new angle allows him to go deeper, and you meet his upward thrusts, groaning out as he fucks you dumb. You look gorgeous above him, the way your tits bounce with every thrust up has him hard all over again.

“Just like that baby girl, keep going, doing so fucking well, my baby” Carmen groans out, and you begin to shake at the combination of his praise the the feeling of his cock driving into you impossibly deep.

You want to make him feel good and you say this to him, causing his eyes to roll back when you squeeze yourself around him, hard, until his thrusts have to drive into you even harder.

The coach freaks loudly from Carmen’s pace, and he slams you down, positioning his cock deep into you, causing you to press half circles into your shoulder, scratching at his biceps and gripping the nape of his hair that causes him to rumble out your moaned name.

You can feel him getting close, his thrust growing sloppy and deep, you tighten around him, and his eyes are in a trance, watching the way you fit around him so perfectly.

Carmen moves to fold himself upright against you, and your eyes roll back to your head as you feel yourself climb up a familiar peak.

Carmen presses a hard kiss against your lips as you groan out, and as he slips a hand into your conjoined bodies, circling your clit you have to shove your fist into your hand to stop from screaming.

The feel of Carmen’s length driving into you and the sound of his ragged moans, mixed with the over stimulation against your clit, you can’t help but fall apart around his cock.

You squeeze yourself tight around Carmen, and he cries out, his thrusts growing slow as he joins you over the cliff, his cock thrusting up into you with spasms. His cheeks are a blush red, his tongue poking out as he follows both of your orgasms.

You fall against his chest, exhausted, pressing your cheek so that it rested against the hard muscle of his pecs. You swallow back a breath, gripping your hand around Carmen’s, as he brings it up to place a soft kiss. 

Your thighs are still shaking from stimulation, and Carmen caresses a hand across them, rubbing soft circles and you lay across his chest.

You stay like this for a moment, basking in the bliss of pleasure and sex and the soft curves and dips of your bodies.

After a bit, Carmen has to slip his out cock from your thighs, eyes fixated on the way your ecstasy mixed with his one drips down your thighs.

“Fucking gorgeous” Carmen replies, and you look up at him in surprise

“What? You don’t think I'll find you gorgeous after this?” Carmen smiles down at your flustered state, he brushes back the sweat and tears dripping down your cheeks.

“That was..you are. Well fuck, Carmen, why didn’t this happen sooner?” You reply, he manoeuvres you so that your legs lay across his thighs.

“Yeah, uh, we’ll I’ve got a whole bucket of shit you don’t want dragging you down” Carmen replies scratching his neck, suddenly more shy as he lay his heart bare to you.

“Yeah, we’ll you gave me no choice when you practically murdered that man” You reply, biting back a smile, as you press soft circles around his thumb.

“Should’ve fucking murdered him…”

“What happens now?” Carmen replies, looking at you nervous that this was you just scratching an itch, because he was head over heels in love with you and he would never recover

“God Carmen, you didn’t realise I’m in love with you already?” You reply with a smile, “Practically the entire restaurant does” 

Carmen looks up at you in wonder, his eyebrows furrowing as your words hit him hard. You loved him? You loved him. He wants you to repeat it a hundred times, he wants to hear your tongue say those words to him again.

“You are incomparable” Carmen mutters under his breath, before wrapping you tight against his chest, pressing a kiss that feels different now, less crazed and rushed and fueled by heated passion. It was new, it felt like a start of something.

“You think they’re okay out there?” You reply with a start.

“Hell no” Carmen replies, and you can’t help but laugh as you push your head through a shirt Carmen had passed to you.

You and Carm may have just confessed your love to one another, but you still had a goddamn restaurant to run.

[honeyedclementine]

beg for it

sevika x f!reader, smut, established relationship, strapping, top!sevika usage of 'good girl' (one shot, 1.8k words) ageless blogs, minors, and men dni

reply to be added to my tag list ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

it was rare these days that sevika came home in a playful mood. work was weighing down on her, silco's pressures getting worse and worse, but you understood, you always understood. you didn't pretend to know the extent of the work she did for silco and she never told you—you just sighed and tended to her wounds whenever she came home with them. that was how you two had met, in fact. you were one of the more notable healers in zaun, always caring for others with a gentle touch. she had come to you all those years ago when she first lost her arm and never stopped. somewhere along the way, things changed between you two and well, now you have a shared apartment in the lanes and make good use of your free time.

speaking of making good use, sevika is in a good mood when she comes home for once. it's a pleasant surprise when you hear the door while you wash up from dinner, arms wrapping around your waist—one warm, one cool. lips press into your neck and you sigh contentedly.

"good day at work, baby?" you hum, feeling the way her kiss intensifies at the pet name. she'll never admit it to your face that she likes it, but you know her and her body well enough to know what drives her crazy. her kisses grow playful as she nips at the crook of your neck, hands strong at your waist and thoroughly distract you. the plate you were cleaning slips softly into the warm soapy water of the sink as you grip the edge of the counter, eyes slipping closed.

"couldn't wait to get home," sevika mutters against your neck, biting and sucking a mark into it that you know will last for a few days. you love letting her mark you up—of course, always places you can cover up so you can maintain some professionalism when you need to, but you like knowing they're there. pressing fingers to bruises on your collarbones through your shirts, just to feel the hiss of old pain, remembering the nights you two shared. "to you."

you mewl softly against her touch, her flesh hand coming dangerously close to the waistband of your jeans. you can already feel desire pooling softly in the pits of your stomach, surely manifesting itself into a mess in your underwear. you groan as her metal hand climbs up the hem of your shirt, sharp fingers just barely grazing against an erect nipple. you moan softly, pushing your ass back against her hips and feeling her groan at the friction.

"gods, i need you," you moan, head hanging, hair falling into your face as you struggle to remain standing. she always has a way of making you weak in the knees while doing barely anything. "fuck me, please, it's been too long."

she picks up on exactly what you're asking for without you having to say much more, a chuckle falling from her lips as she pulls away from you. you mourn her warmth immediately, but her rough velvet voice washes over you as she says, "wait here, then."

a chill runs down your spine as you hear her retreat to the bedroom. she returns only moments later, this time without her jeans, a strap comfortable on her hips above her underwear. you bite your lip, tugging her close as soon as you can and smashing your lips together with the edge of the counter pressing into your back. she pulls away from you if only to tug your shirt over your head.

her hands roam your chest, flesh fingers teasing a hard nipple as she kisses along the line of your jaw, tongue exploring the hollow of your throat. her hands lower, undoing the button of your jeans and tugging them down until they're stuck around your thighs, taking your underwear with it.

she's impatient, it seems, not even bothering to remove the clothing completely before turning you around and pressing your stomach into the edge of the counter. you gasp at the strong hand she has on the back of your neck, relishing in the way she can just push you around as you see fit. you've always loved how strong she is, especially in times like this.

you gasp as the strap presses against your back, not quite where you want it. her fingers find your clit, pressing down slightly before dipping lower and gathering more of your slick desire onto her fingertips. "so ready for me already."

"fuck," you gasp as two of her thick fingers breach your entrance with little warning, stretching and preparing you for her cock. "i need you."

she leans in close, her teeth nipping softly at your earlobe, the tip of the strap just barely teasing at your entrance, not giving you nearly enough. you whimper at the contact, relishing in the warmth of her stomach pressed against your back. "beg for it."

you don't need to be told twice. "please, sevika, i need your cock, baby, please. i've been so good, give it to me, please."

"good girl," she coos, caressing your face with one hand as her lips dive against your neck once more, sucking more marks into the soft flesh.

you're practically shivering with anticipation as her metal hand tangles in your hair, getting a solid grip on it before she presses you down until your stomach is almost entirely flush with the counter. she angles the strap against your entrance, just barely pushing in as if she knows this is driving you absolutely insane. you whimper at the slightest touch, chest heaving as you crave to be filled by her.

after the initial tease, she slams into you with little warning, drawing a pleasurable scream from your lips. her grip on your hair and back keeps you where she wants you and you don't fight it, content to let her fuck you however she sees fit. despite her initial roughness, she eases you into it, rocking into you slowly and letting you get used to the fullness. you groan, making an attempt to shove your hips back against her, but the strong hand on the small of your back keeps you from doing so, causing a soft mewl to fall from your lips.

"gods, you're beautiful like this," she breathes out, so quiet you almost wonder if she even meant to say it out loud. as if trying to hide the statement, she picks up her pace, pulling out of you almost entirely before slamming back in and keeping that same rhythm over and over again.

your legs shake and you almost certainly would have fallen if not for sevika and the counter holding you up. her strong hands ground you, even as you press your face against the coolness of the counter, no thoughts in your mind except for sevika, sevika, sevika. you already know if she keeps this pace, along with the gentle hand tugging at your hair the way she knows you love, you're not going to last long at all.

"sev, baby," you moan, the words barely sounding real as they fall from your lips mingled with soft whimpers and groans. you can already feel your climax at the edges of your nerves as she fucks into you relentlessly. you can't get over how she groans like she can feel it, too, the kitchen quiet save for a mess of moans and the wet sounds of her cock pushing into you again and again. you can feel yourself leaking down the insides of your thighs, surely coating the strap in an absolute mess of desire.

"you're doing so good, so good for me," sevika coaxes more moans out of you with her soft words, your hands white-knuckling the counter as you feel your orgasm growing closer and closer. your legs feel absolutely weak as she slams into you.

your orgasm washes over you quickly, like a bucket of warm water being dumped over you as your nerves light up with the release of tension, clenching around her cock before spilling over it, making a mess of yourself. sevika continues fucking into you, barely even slowing her pace as her flesh hand moves from your back. she reaches around, trapping her wrist between your stomach and the counter as her fingers tease at your clit, applying pressure to the sensitive bundle of nerves, clearly trying to draw another orgasm out of you.

you don't fight it, leaning into her touch as more incoherent moans spill from your lips, focusing only on the hand on your clit and the cock thrusting into you over and over again with little remorse. you love when she's like this—rough and unforgiving, not letting you go until she's done with you.

already sensitive from your first, it's not long before you're coming again, this time against her fingers and pushing back against her cock. her hand moves back to your hips, guiding you through is as her pace lets up only slightly. as you come down, her thrusts slow down almost entirely before she stills, her cock fully buried within you and her back pressed against yours against the counter. you ground yourself in the weight of her against you, your eyes watering slightly just from the pleasure of the stretch.

she kisses down the nape of your neck and your spine, sending shivers across your skin. after a moment, she pulls out of you slowly. you sigh, going to push yourself away from the counter, but she stops you with a hand to the small of your back. so, you stay there, hands braced against the cool counter as sevika sinks to her knees. you shudder as her tongue finds your inner thigh, cleaning up the mess she made of you.

her lips and tongue are careful around your cunt, knowing how sensitive you are right now. you sigh contentedly as she cleans you up before rising to her feet.

"baby—" you start to say, but you're cut off by her hooking her arms around your back and the backs of your knees, effectively sweeping you off your feet. you're grateful for the help, considering you're not entirely sure you'd be able to walk after that. "i can walk, you know."

sevika just tsks as she carries you to the bathroom, starting up the faucet and waiting for the water to get warm. "not if i've done my job right."

she sits you on the edge of the ceramic tub and you watch as she undoes the harness around her hips, tugging her shirt and underwear off—a silent confirmation that she'll be joining you in the bath. you reach for her hips, tugging her close as she bends down and presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

as soon as the bath is full, she climbs in, the tub barely big enough for her tall form, tugging you in after her and settling you against her back. you sigh, letting your eyes slip closed as she presses a kiss to your temple.

you love when sevika has a good day at work.

tag list: @puppyels @njm63522 @fict1onallyobsessed

[hadersversion]

‘tis the damn season.

“so we could call it even, you could call me babe for the weekend.”

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue! reader

warnings: 18+, SMUT, p in v, fingering, begging, overstimulation, use of babe....let me know if i forget anything lol. ALSO in some places in america, thansgiving eve is literally just a holiday to get drunk in your hometown

your home for the holidays for the first time in years. you've been avoiding rafe, the reason you've been away for so long, but after seeing him again all the old feelings come back. when rafe sends a text one night, you end up in the back of his truck like old times.

i parked my car out front of my childhood home, staring at the old exterior.

somethings never change.

being back in the outer banks felt strange. it has been a while since i have been back, avoiding come home for as long as i can. but with a few begging phone calls from my mom and kiara, here i am.

i knock on my front door and am greeted with a bright smile.

"jj?" i ask, confused.

"welcome home, stranger." he says, with a hug and grabbing my bag.

i walk into my living room and see the pogues, sitting with my mom. a homemade 'welcome home' banner hanging above their heads.

my mom comes over and gives me a big hug. "i thought i would never see this face again." she says with a squeeze.

"boston isn't that far, mom." i tell her but i know she would never leave the outer banks. never in a million years. i turn towards the others and smile. "i wonder who could've put this together?" i say, looking at kiara.

"hey it wasn't all me, pope was the one who brought it up." she says, engulfing me in her arms.

"guilty." pope chimes in, joining the hug. i feel jj and john b join in as well. my family.

we break away and hang out in the living room, catching up.

"don't tell me you went all city on us, y/n." john b pokes fun at me.

"not completely. but it is nice having more things to do than hang on the beach and smoke." i wink.

"who could want more than that?" jj asks, making us all laugh.

"speaking of," kiara starts. "there's a little thanksgiving eve celebration happening at the wreck. just some people from high school. nothing big."

"just a chance to get drunk of our asses and go to dinner the next day hungover." jj says, causing kiara to nudge him.

"what do you say? want to join us?" i look around the room at my friends, all eager waiting for my response. with a sigh, i nod and they all cheer. "thank god, i don't think i could've done that alone."

i smile and nod. it should be fun, it will be. but my brain can't help to wonder if the one person who's kept me away from coming home will be there. no, he wouldn't. not with the pogues. but a part of me can't help but hope to see his face.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

i fix my sweater in the mirror in my room, my body fidgeting from anxiety. it's been a few days and i still can't shake that feeling from my body about being home. sure, i'm happy but this place holds so many memories. memories i wish to bury. i stare at the photo booth picture tucked into my mirror of him and i. i guess i forgot to hide this with the rest of the stuff. i take it off the mirror and sigh, examining it.

almost four years since it was taken. almost four years since we called it quits. and yet, he still haunts my memories. his presence making itself known through cheap beer at the bar, expensive men's cologne at the mall, exhaust that leaves motorbikes as they ride down the street. he's always there, whether i like it or not.

the sound of a horn breaks me free of my thoughts.

"y/n, they're here!" my mom calls from downstairs.

"coming!" i open my dresser drawer and slip the photo in before racing downstairs. i kiss my mom on the cheek and slip out the door, rushing into the van.

"ready to get fucked up?" jj asks with his devilish smirk.

i roll my eyes and laugh. "let's go."

we pull up to the wreck, it's already dark outside and a slight breeze fills the air. we all hurry in, greeted by familiar faces. my name is called from every direction, old friends from high school or the beach. all my fellow pogues who i know and love. when i'm done making my rounds, i head over to our table. everyone has some drink in their hand, beer or cocktail, and they all smile up at me.

"who would've though little y/n y/l/n would be a pogue celebrity?" pope jokes.

i flip him off and slide in next to john b. kiara hands me a beer and i take a sip. "i'm not a celebrity, i'm just one of the only people from this island who actually made it off."

they all make jokes at my despair, teasing me in any way they could when sarah walks up. i feel my stomach flip and i smile at her. "y/n!" she embraces me. "i'm so happy to see you!"

i hug her back and smile. "me too, sar. how's everything been?"

"the usual but i can't complain." she sits next to me and lays her head on my shoulder. "it's been forever."

"it has." i sigh. "it really has."

we all share stories and laugh around the table. we take shots, chug beer, and play different drinking games. just like old times sake.

"i need another beer." i say with a slight slur in my voice, standing up. "anyone else?" everyone shakes their head as i excuse myself.

i walk up to the bar and wait my turn, twirling my debit card in my hand. it could be the alcohol but i feel content and happy to be home.

"y/n?"

until that moment.

i don't want to turn around, i don't even want to accept my fate in this situation.

i know that voice, i could recognize it in a crowd of millions of people. it was the voice that lingered in my dreams, my thoughts.

i turn around and look at the man.

"rafe."

he looks older, his hair buzzed and some facial hair covering his face. but those eyes. they are the same eyes of the boy i loved.

we stood there, not saying a word. just taking the sight of one another in.

"i didn't know you were home." he says, not breaking eye contact.

i nod, biting my lip. "i am, i got home monday."

he chuckles to himself and shakes his head. "how long you here for?"

"till saturday. then i'm going back to boston." my throat feels scratchy and my face is on fire. i want to be anywhere but here now.

his eyes continue to study me. "two more budweiser's, please." he says to the bartender. i open my mouth to protest but he shakes his head. "on me, think of it as a welcome home gift."

the bartender hands me the beer and i smile. i turn back to rafe and tip the bottle to him. "thanks."

"no problem." he clinks his bottle to mine. we both take a long sip. my eyes are desperately trying to find a place to land, ending up on the bright sign above the bar. but rafe's are still on me.

"you okay?" kiara asks as she walks behind rafe. she is my gurdian angel.

"yeah, just waiting for my beer. excuse me." i squeeze past rafe and walk back to my table. i look back at him and smiles. i hate him.

a few drinks more and my ears are ringing. it was loud and everyone was far too drunk. i excuse myself for air outside. there are a few people lingering, smoking cigarettes or waiting for ubers. i smile and take in the nostalgia.

"you know, it would've been nice to know you were home." i hear rafe's voice next to me.

i roll my eyes and look up at him. "oh, would it have been? sorry, i didn't think you'd care." i say coldly. that liquid courage is taking control.

he looks down at me. "and why would i have not cared?"

"hmm, let me think." i put my finger to my chin. "oh, right. 'don't ever contact me again. we're so over. i wish i never met you. blah. blah. blah.' do you want me to go on?" i say to him.

i watch as he processes what i said to him, the words of our last fight. he looks guilty, for once in his life. "that was years ago, y/n. w-we were just kids."

"oh, really? then why haven't i heard from you for the past few years? phone works both ways, rafe." i say, shrugging.

he stands there quietly, i got him.

"how's school been?" he asks, nonchalantly.

"are you for real?" i ask.

"what? i'm being nice." he says.

i huff with frustration. "you are such an ass." i push pass him and walk onto the sidewalk.

"where are you going?" he asks, following after me.

"away from you." i say, not looking back.

i hear him run up behind me and he gently grabs my arm. "y/n. y/n, stop."

i turn to look at him. "what do you want from me, huh? you want to torture me even more?"

he stares at me, hand still on my arm. "what? of course not. y/n, i missed you."

"fuck off." i spit out without thinking.

"you're drunk."

"and you're an asshole." i say, flatly. "you...you fucking broke my heart and you expect me to act like everything is fucking dandy?"

"y/n." he tries to plead his case.

"no, rafe. you don't get to waltz in here and act like everything is okay with us. do you know how much you fucked me over? one day you're telling me you love me and you want to move to boston with me and the next, you're dumping me over the phone." i poke his chest. "i did everything you wanted, i kept what we had between us a secret, i took care of you. and nothing was enough for you."

he looks down at his feet in guilt. "i-i know, i'm sorry. i was...i was fucked up back then. with my dad on my case and the drinking...i wasn't okay. i felt like..." he cut himself off.

"what, rafe? you felt like, what?" i ask.

"like i was going to hold you back, alright?" he raises his voice. "you are too good for this place, for me. i didn't want to hold you back. i loved you too much to do that to you." i stare at him and laugh. "what? what's so fucking funny?"

"you, rafe. you." i sigh. "instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid. we could've worked that out. but you were too scared." i close my eyes and shake my head. "goodbye, rafe."

i walk down the street, hugging my body as the wind blows. a weight has been lifted off my shoulders but there's still that feeling i get whenever i think of him. that feeling that i miss him.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

thanksgiving flew by, even though i had a hangover that felt like it would last a lifetime.

i helped my mom clean up the kitchen as the pogues did the dishes and took the trash out. just like old times.

once we were done, we sat outside around the bonfire. you would think after yesterday, drinking would come to a halt but jj found a bottle of vodka in the freezer and mixed it with kiara's apple cider. we all enjoyed each other's company but my mind could not help but wander. my last conversation with rafe ringing through my head.

"instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid."

i shake my head and take a sip of my spiked cider. as much as it rang true, there was still that part of me that wonders 'what if?'. the more i thought about it, the more i wanted to pick up my phone.

no, i need to be the bigger person. i'm stronger than that. i can't text him first.

then i felt my phone buzz in my lap.

rafe: hey

i stare at the text and bite my lip. i know i should ignore it, let it go unread. but my fingers work against my brain and type 'hi' back to him. i sit there, eagerly waiting for a response.

rafe: can we talk?

rafe: i'm sorry about last night, i'm a fucking idiot.

rafe: there's so many things i could say to you rn

rafe: but i miss you.

rafe: i wanna see you.

i look around at my friends and sigh, they would be so mad at me for this.

y/n: sure, give me like an hour.

y/n: park down the street at the usual spot.

my friends leave my house, mainly due to me faking another wave of hungover puking. i run upstairs and check myself out in the mirror, i look damn good. when i get his text, i sneak out the backdoor and hurry down the street. i see his truck parked under the big tree, the spot he always parked in.

i open the truck door and hop into the passenger seat. i look over at him, he's still in his dressy clothes. a blue polo that hugged his arms right and khakis that made his thighs look exceptionally big. he knew what he was doing and i can't tell if i hate him or love him for it.

we drive in silence for a bit, his radio playing music faintly. his hands grip the steering wheel as his mind looks like he's on another planet. i play with the ends of my sweatshirt, anxiously waiting for him to do something. anything.

he pulls up to the beach, the spot where we would always come to. it was dark and the waves crashed against the shore loudly. he turns the car off and looks over at me.

"thanks for meeting me." he says simply.

"sure."

"i'm sorry about last night. you went out to have fun and i ruined it, i know i did."

i just nod at him.

"and...you were right. about it all." he sighs, running his hands over his face. "i should've manned up, talked to you about how i was feeling. but you know how i get. i get too in my head and just jump to conclusions. it wasn't fair to you." he looks into my eyes. "these past few years without you have been a living hell and i have only myself to blame."

"are you drunk? high?" i ask.

"w-what?"

"are you not sober?" i ask again.

"i'm sorry, what? of course i'm fucking sober." he says. "why would i not be?"

"rafe cameron...taking accountability? i'm sorry, it just seems so...foreign?" i laugh.

"i'm being serious, y/n."

i laugh again. "oh, i'm sure. and...the sky is green. we live on the planet pluto. aliens exist and so do unicorns!"

he pinches the bridge of his nose. "y/n, i'm telling the truth! god, you always joke around."

"yeah, because i know you." i say to him. "and you would rather eat concrete than admit you are wrong."

"eat concrete?" he asks, with a smirk.

"you know what i mean!" i huff with frustration.

he grabs my hand and stares in my eyes. "y/n, i am fully sober. we are not in another universe, it is not opposite day. i was wrong and i am sorry."

my brain malfunctions as i look into his eyes. "y-you mean it?"

"every word i said."

my brain not working means i experienced a lack of better judgment. i grab rafe by his collar and connect our lips for the first time in years. this kiss, the one i have longed for since i left this place, was the missing puzzle piece i've been searching for in my life. everything seemed to make sense again.

his hands cupped my cheeks as his tongue slipped into my mouth. he was hungry for me and i wasn't going to stop him because i felt insatiable as well. his hands roamed from my cheeks down to my neck and onto my shoulders.

i needed more.

i climbed onto his lap and straddled him. my arms connected around his neck as he pressed against me. i felt his cock hard against his khakis and i wanted it. i wanted it all. i rubbed myself against him, causing us both to moan.

he continued to kiss me until he broke away and looked at me. his puffy lips formed a cocky smile as he brushed his nose against mine. "you missed me."

"shut up." i was itching for more.

"admit it, you missed me. you missed the way i made you feel." he states.

"rafe, shut up and kiss me, please."

"ah ah ah." he shook his head. "not until you tell me."

"you're such an ass." i roll my eyes, trying to catch my breathe.

"yet, here you are, rubbing yourself against me in my truck." he says, kissing my cheek. his lips then go to my ear and down my neck. "i want it all with you, right now, babe. but i need to hear it."

"fine! fuck, i missed you. are you happy?" i groan, needing him.

"very. get in the backseat." he demands. i quickly follow his order, hopping in the back over the seats. he gets out of the truck and opens up the back door, sliding in next to me. "come here." he pulls me back onto his lap and we pick up where we left off. i continue to rub myself against him as he sloppily kisses me. "just like old times." he jokes and i hit his shoulder. "c'mon, don't act like you don't think about it."

"oh, i do. but i bet you think about it more than i do." i smirk.

"probably." he laughs. his fingers fall to the hem of my sweater and he plays with it. "now are we only here to kiss or?"

"why? you wanna fuck me in your truck? just like old times." i say, making fun of what he just said.

"i do, i wanna fuck you right here, right now. it's all i've been wanting to do." he kisses my jawline. "do you want me to fuck you?"

this is what i missed the most, our back and forth.

"yes, rafe. i want you to fuck me." i moan out.

with that, he practically rips my sweater off my body and starts to kiss down my chest. his large hands palm my clothed breast. i bite my lip and let my head fall back, missing the way he affected my body. i felt his hand snake around to the back and unclip my bra quickly.

"show off." i say, out of breathe.

i smirks and connects his lips to my nipple, sucking and licking it. his hand massaging my other. "don't pretend you don't like it."

i smirk and shake my head.

he continues to focus on my tits, going back and forth between the two.

"more." i whisper, eyes clenched shut.

"what was that?" he asked in a teasing tone.

"i need more, rafe. please." i beg.

"look at you all needy for me. i knew you missed me." his hand slipped under my jeans and panties, stopping right at my core. i felt his fingers curl inside me, going in and out. "all wet for me, huh? what a good girl." he pushed in, fingering my cunt, when his thumb found my sensitive bud. he added pressure, circling it, and i felt as though i was seeing stars.

"s-shit." i cry out, moving my hips to try and gain some friction.

"feel good, baby? let me hear how could i make you feel." he picked up his pace and a pornographic moan escaped my lips. it's been forever since someone has made me feel this good. rafe knew my body like it was his own, he knew how to get me going. "there we go, like how my fingers feel?"

"u-uh huh." i nod, mouth hanging open.

his fingers worked their magic, rubbing my clit at a pace that'll make me come undone in no time. "love the way you look on top of me, baby. so fucking sexy." he attached his lips to my tits again and continued fingering me.

i felt on fire.

i place one hand on the window and the other on his shoulder, holding on for dear life. the more he whispered about me and the faster his fingers were going, i was cumming on his fingers before i knew it. i rode out my high, screaming his name. once i was done, i felt him pull his fingers out of my pants, my juices getting all over myself. i stared down at him, trying to catch my breathe, as he popped his fingers into his mouth and sucked.

"just as good as i remember." he cleaned his fingers off and kissed me again. my hands ran down his buff chest and stopped at the bottom of his polo, lifting it up. his gold chain laid against his chiseled body, he was perfect. i felt as though i was in a trance as i began to kiss down his chest. i could feel his groans vibrating in his chest and i smirked because i was the one making him feel this way. "i need to fuck you."

"you need to?" i laugh, kissing lower and lower.

"yes, y/n. i need to bury myself inside of you, please." he pleaded.

"i like when you're the one begging." i bite him lightly, causing him to hiss.

"i bet."

i unbuttoned his khakis and sat up so he could slip them off. his grey boxers were discolored from the precum leaking off his cock. he took his underwear off and his cock sprung out. "i-i don't have protection." he said, mentally cursing himself out.

"well, are you clean?" i ask.

"yes. i-i haven't been with anyone since." he openly admitted.

i felt the darkness overtake my eyes as i lower myself down onto him. his breath hitched as he slipped all the way in. he was deep inside of me, causing a few tears to leave my eyes. but the pain subsided as he started to rock my hips with his hands, moving me back and forth. i picked up the rhythm he started with me and placed my hands on his shoulder to steady myself. i felt the truck rocking back and forth as i did so.

his hands found my ass and rested there. "fuck, i missed your pussy. so good, takes me so well." he kissed my chest as i grinded back and forth.

i felt my finger nails dig into his shoulder as his cock hit all the right spots. i looked down at him and he stared at me in awe, like i was some work of art. "fuck, rafe. you're so big."

i bite my lip as i let my head fall back in pleasure. i ride him fast as i keep saying his name. "shit, y/n. you're such a good girl, you're so hot. you feel so tight."

i connect our lips, i feel his hands tighten around my ass. this means he was close. "i want you to cum in me, rafe." his eyes widen as he opens his mouth to ask for permission. "p-please fill me up. i miss it so much." i say, trying to catch my breathe.

with that, he lets out a groan and my name falls from his lips like a prayer. "y/n." i feel him coming inside me, painting me. it doesn't take long for his thumb to find my clit again. with the extra pressure applied to my overstimulated cunt, i feel my head reeling. the air in the truck is hot, making it almost hard for me to breath. it all feels too much, my body releasing onto rafe yet again.

we sit there, panting with our eyes closed. i rest my head on his sweaty chest and he kisses me gently. he rubs my back, tracing circles into it.

"felt even better than i imagine." he says, his voice gruff.

"you thought about it a lot, huh?" i smirk.

"all the fucking time."

i take him out of me and sit next to him in the truck. the windows are foggy and our hands find each other, holding them. i get a sense of weird nostalgia, from how things used to be with us.

"well that was a thanksgiving to remember." i joke, trying not to feel overwhelmed by what happened.

"'tis the damn season." he replies.

i slowly slip my sweater back on and try to find my pants.

"w-wait." rafe says. "is this...is this it? just a single fuck and you're gone."

i look at him, his eyes pleading with me.

"i go back to boston on saturday rafe, we only have like a day and a half."

i wish we could keep this going, i wish this was how things always were. but i had to think realistically. i have to go back home, i have to move on with my new life.

he grabs my hand and squeezes it. "boston is only an 11 hour drive. hour or two by plane."

"rafe." i say.

"i can't lose you again. i can't, y/n. these past few years have sucked without you. i can't wait until you come home for christmas again. now that i've got you again, i can't risk it."

i sigh and kiss his hand. "i know. i know." i close my eyes and shake my head. "we'll make it work. we almost did it before."

"we can do it again." he smiles sweetly. i kiss his lips gently, laying my hand against his chest.

"you'd do an 11 hour car ride for me?"

"y/n, i'd fucking walk if i have to." he smiles.

i roll my eyes and kiss his cheek. "you're so cheesy."

he lays me back against the truck seats and kisses me. "don't act like it doesn't work for you."

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Kinktober Day 9: Blasphemy

Author's Note: If you're at all offended or put off by blasphemy or sacrilegious themes, I'd recommend skipping this one. It's kinky, slutty gay sex in a church, and I lean into the blasphemous nature of that. You have been warned ‼️‼️ Don't ask why the prelude rhymes. It just sort of came to me 🫣

Pairings: Fyodor x male reader

Warnings: Dom male!reader, sub!Fyodor, sacrilegious acts, sex in a church, choking, bondage, roleplay, hierophilia, mild allusions to homophobia

Prompt credit: wylerkinktober 🧡

On a cold winter's night, two bodies meet. Skin to skin contact that turns up the heat.

Blasphemy of the highest degree, their very souls overshadowed by ecstasy.

One act after another, a shameful display. Circumstances be damned, they could do this all day.

The orange candlelight flickered, bathing the room and its inhabitants in a warm glow — holy, one might even call it. Though the scenes unfolding within this blessed building were anything but.

There, in the front row of pews sat you and your lover. It started out innocent; Fyodor wanted to come here to relax and contemplate a few things, and you wished to keep him company (that, plus you didn't care to walk home alone during the coldest season of the year…) It was unclear whether or not Fyodor believed in God — or any deity, for that matter — but one thing was certain: he always found himself sitting in an old church. Usually gazing at the ceiling or flipping through a worn out Bible as if he were the Lord's most devout servant.

It was one of those nights where he simply sat in silence, eyes closed and head tipped back, as his breath remained steady and quiet. He was quite beautiful like this, you thought. Staring at him for too long, however, is a dangerous game. It activates something deep in your brain. Something that causes all rational sense to flee. Any innocence behind your eyes darkens; a demon lying in wait takes the bait that is Fyodor's body, and pounces–

Fyodor gasps, eyes squeezing shut while your hand slides towards his inner thigh. You palm him through his clothes, making it impossible for your lover to concentrate on anything except the tingling between his legs.

Roughly, yet methodically, your hands touch all the right places, and Fyodor's eyes snap open, breaking the trance he was under, and he utters, “Take me…!”

—

A part of you is well aware of how wrong this is, as well as the things certain religious folks would have to say if they could see you two right now.

Two men, alone in a church, locking lips on the pew. Unafraid to touch and grope and grind on each other as the image of the Lord presides over the grounds. Fyodor is moaning without consequence, fired up like you've never seen him before — and you fucking love it.

“God- aaahh, I need… more…!” he exhales in between kisses. Sweat has his pretty hair clinging to his forehead already.

You chuckle at the ironic way he calls upon 'God', as if he's asking God to allow him to experience more pleasure at your hands. And maybe He is listening, because you're overcome with the intense desire to give your lover everything he asks for and more. No, you need to do this. It's your duty alone to fuck Fyodor's brains out until he ascends to whichever higher plane this God exists on.

—

Tucked away in a supply closet were some very useful materials: A bit of duct tape, rosary beads, and a bottle of holy water. And, how quickly your brain conjured up a way to incorporate these fine items. First, Fyodor's clothing was stripped off of him, revealing that gorgeous body that you adored to a sickening degree. Next, his hands were bound in front of his chest, and the rosary beads were placed between his fingers.

Then, you placed your tied up beauty on top of your lap, spreading his legs open wide to display his cock to the empty church. Your dick was already hard, pressing against Fyodor's ass and balls as you, too, sat there with nothing on, pressing your bare skin against his back.

“Let's play pretend, yeah? Might as well have a little fun since we've already gone this far.” you suggest, tucking a lock of hair behind Fyodor's ear. “Now, what brings you here tonight, my child? Do you wish to confess something?”

With no hesitation, your lover leans into the setup; “Yes… Forgive me, father, for I have committed a great sin-”

“And what might that sin be?”

You catch a glimpse of the twitch between his legs, and feel his breath hitch before he blurts out; “I… I have these thoughts, desires, of another man…”

“Mm, I see.” you say, intrigued.

Fyodor continues, arching his back as the details become more graphic. “Yes, I… I think of someone in particular often. When I'm trying to work, my mind drifts to him… and I imagine how it would feel to take him inside of me–” a shudder rips through his being, causing his hole to clench and his hips to buck upwards.

“My, that is a great sin, indeed. And look at you,” you say, tapping his cock with your index finger, “your body is reacting just from talking about your urges… tsk, dear thing, what am I going to do with you?”

Stopping himself from thrusting his hips proves to be futile—his precum had already smeared on your finger when you touched him, tainting your skin with his sinful essence. On the cusp of becoming hysterical, Fyodor cries out, “Please, help me, father! What can I do to cleanse myself of this sin?!”

A devilish smile creeps onto your face as you think of a perfect cure to his affliction. “Relax, child. I may have the perfect way for you to repent.” Fyodor's eyes light up, and he exhales a sigh of relief while you gently caress his hips. You take the bottle of holy water that you found, pouring a small amount in the palm of your hand as you explain what it is to your dear sinner. “–and I'm going to use some of this to help you purge those feelings from your body, alright? Is that ok with you?” he nods vigorously, desperate to accept your help.

The blessed water coats the skin of your hand — it's a bit cold from sitting in a freezing church closet, and when it comes in contact with Fyodor's dick, he flinches. It doesn't take long for it to warm up as you wrap your hand around his shaft—jacking him off with the holy water. “Wh-what–? Father, mmph… oh God-”

“If you want to purge your sins, we must expel them from your body. And what better way to do that than through this–” you say, holding Fyodor's cock in your hand like it's nothing but a tool for you to use. “Those thoughts frustrate you, yes? Don't they make you feel so pent up and tight? You just need to shoot all of that sin out through here.”

As your fingertip swirls around his slit, Fyodor keens. An unholy noise permeates through the otherwise silent church. His toes curl, and within seconds, cum dirties the wooden floor, as well as your hand. Sticky and rather thick—Fyodor's sinful seed is strung between your digits.

With his head thrown back onto your shoulder, your little sinner sounds upset, chanting “M'sorry, sir- ooh~ I could not stop myself…”

Feigning disappointment, you chastise him for doing such a sinful, lewd act. In a holy building, such as this one, no less. “It seems your situation is even more dire than I thought. Perhaps a punishment would be more effective, hm?”

Fyodor's pupils expand even wider somehow. The prospect of divine punishment brings about a shiver to his thin, frail body. Before he has a chance to agree or protest, you're pulling the rosary from his fingers and wrapping it around his pale throat. He coughs, jerking his body and making an attempt to pull the thing away—yet, with duct taped wrists, that's not exactly doable. He merely ends up with a slap on the wrist for his action.

Now, with the beads digging into his neck, this dear sinner is once again subjected to your "sin-purging" tactics—albeit with increasingly blurry vision and labored breaths. Another round of your priestly hand incessantly rubbing his cock, while your other hand keeps the rosary tight around his neck. As you rub faster, tugging harshly at his weeping, swollen cock, Fyodor gargles out shameless moans. No longer worried about how sinful he's become, simply a slut for your not-so-innocent "treatment".

“Y-es…!” he croaks, “more! I need to- need to cum again, please~! 💜” And so, you oblige him. You hungrily work Fyodor's dick as if it's your life's mission — as your fingers trace over his slit again, you lament not having something to plug up his cock with. Forcefully preventing him from a delicious release sounds perfect right now. Ah well, perhaps next time, you'll implement such a punishment. This time, you stroke and choke your lover until he cums his brains out in your lap.

[fbfh]

I've literally only seen the pilot of game of thrones and I already wanna fuck Jon Snow so fuckin bad. "oooh but his oath, but his vows" I DON'T CARE. COCK IN MOUTH RN. fucking look at this

WHY DOES GOD KEEP SENDING ME THESE MISERABLE WET LITTLE BRUNET MEN WITH BIG OLD COW EYES AND EMPATHIC DOGMATICALLY LOYAL SENSABILITIES. STOP RIGHT NOW send more. bc I'll be so astronomically for real with you. this man pulls up on a horse with a fuckin direwolf puppy following him along fully believing he's its mama???? fold. instantly fold. no one can not fold at that. he's channeling all his yearning and desires into being loyal and noble and it fucking HURTS to look at him and know he's never had the sloppiest most earth shattering fucking top of all time. I'm thinking about a lot of things right now, mostly how good the tension of "I shouldn't do this I shouldn't do this I shouldn't do this" running through his mind while his heart betrays him and he moves closer to you is. the kicker is, he hasn't even done anything yet. he's maybe knelt and kissed your hand at most, but good GOD did it get you wet. because you can tell how much he's holding back. you can tell how badly he's aching for more, and the self control he's exercising makes you want to see him fucking snap. but you know he won't somehow it just makes it better and better. like you breathe in his direction and he's trying to get rid of impure thoughts unbecoming of a brother of the night's watch. and it's all self inflicted.

thinking also about Jon being assigned as your bodyguard for some reason. maybe you're of nobility, maybe you were requested to be delivered to some king or other, but now it's Jon's job to take you through the snowy wastelands of the north and deliver you safely to your destination. he quickly realizes that there is no way he'll be able to maintain his professionalism (he does, he just feels like he's throwing caution to the wind cause you make him blush). sitting you in front of him on his horse? you keep resting your head against his chest and speaking so sweetly to him to pass the time!!! sitting you behind him? your arms are around his waist!!!!!!!! he's losing it girlfriend!!!!! don't even get me started on making camp in some cave for the night to wait out a particularly bad snowstorm. you stay close to him at his insistance, knowing it's the only way for you both to stay warm. You're snuggled up in his arms under his cloak looking so sweet in the firelight. something howls in the distance, and you jump, moving closer to him. he realizes you feel protected by him. not in a professional guide-through-the-north way, in a way that you choose. you feel so deeply in your subconsious that if anything were to happen, you'd be safe in Jon's arms. you look up to him, feel protected and safe with him. you feel safe with him. and motherfucker if that doesn't stir something uncontrollable and irreversable in his chest. he knows he shouldn't, but his heart betrays him, and his arms wrap firmly around you, holding you close.

"It's alright," he murmurs so gently, "it's only the wind."

[totaly-obsessed]

Rory

Leah Williamson x reader

-> A teenage squabble over a plant turns into a heartwarming symbol of family as two best friends prepare to embark on the journey of motherhood together.

-> Happy (a little late) Birthday @alotofpockets!

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“What the fuck is that?”

“Leah Williamson, Language! Or I will call Amanda!” Your mum’s voice was shrill as she scolded a thirteen-year-old Leah for her cursing. Leah just had a smug smirk on her face, she got her potty mouth from her mum, who always acted outraged when her eldest swore in front of other people.

“That is my favorite plant, Lee! My sister gave it to me.”

Your best friend didn’t even have the audacity to look guilty or lie. “Well that’s fucking hideous thing, I’ll tell you that.”

“Leah!” Oh shit. She just got first-named.

“W- Well you can’t tell me that’s a pretty plant! What is it even called? Tree Tumbo?

Now that she saw the tears brimming your eyes she knew she had fucked up. Her hand that had flown, trying to defend herself slowly sank.

“No, it’s called Dracaena. But I named it Rory, short for Aurora.”

Just last week Leah and you had talked about names for future children, or rather your future children. The blonde was already sure that she liked girls, so kids were out of sight for now. Aurora was a name that stuck with her though, and you had promised to name your first kid Aurora if your husband would agree.

“Oh… Darling, I’m so so-”

“I think you should go home now.” Your teary eyes nearly killed the teen, but with one last kiss on your forehead, she left the room, saying goodbye to your very confused mother.

—

“No way.”

“Yes, Leah! I am not leaving her behind!”

The blonde defender tried to barricade the door and deny you access, but with just a gentle nudge she moved, even picking up the heavy plant for you.

“I can’t believe you’re taking that fucking thing with you.”

After that eventful first day of having Rory, Leah had properly apologized with chocolate, flowers, and a hand-knitted little sweater for a plant pot. She obviously didn't make it herself. God, that would have been a disaster. Her Granny, Berny, had made it for her.

“Well she’s my daughter and as long as I am alive I will take her with me. Either deal with it or go.”

Leah was stunned standing in the hallways “OH! You wouldn’t dare, darling! What would you do without me? Who carries the grocery bags for you?”

“You haven’t carried anything yet!”

The two of you had just signed your first senior contract with Arsenal for a year - and to live closer to the facilities you were moving into a house with Emma Mitchell and Emma Byrne. Both of them were experienced players and filled with excitement they had agreed to take two young talents in.

But seeing you call a plant your daughter, and Leah hating it with such passion surely was a sight to see and just a teaser for the coming year.

—

“You can’t be serious?”

Leah had been busy over the day, doing media stuff. So with having the new house all to yourself, you brought Rory back in, much to your girlfriend's demise.

She had just re-signed her arsenal contract for the foreseeable future while you had signed with the London City Lionesses last year, working part-time as a librarian at your closest school - a dream of yours.

After multiple failed relationships with men, you had come to the realization that the real thing was right in front of you, in the form of your best friend.

Now you had moved out of the old, small apartment into your very own first home, and Leah apparently liked to ignore the time plans you had made. So now you stood there, Rory still in your hands as your girlfriend got out of the car.

“I thought we talked about this Darling!”

Quickly she had walked over, taking the now huge plant out of your hands, and carried it into the house.

“Where do you want it then?”

She already knew that you couldn’t leave Rory behind, you had looked so sad when you promised her not to take the Dracaena with you.

“Next to the couch please!”

“Of course darling…”

—

The nerves picked at you as you made a little sign with ‘big sister’ on it. It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise to Leah that you are pregnant, the road here was long after all. But you would never know.

Rory would officially be a big sister in the making, in just a few more months, and then a little baby would share the place with your loved plant.

After leaning the sign next to the ultrasound and the pregnancy test you sat back down at the dining table, now you just needed to wait until your wife was home.

It was as if you were in a trance, looking at your book but not actually taking anything in from it when the blonde entered your home.

“I’m home darling!” Her first act of service once entering was greeting you with a kiss - but she was a little taken aback by your nervous expression. You had been home the entire day, what could have happened?

“I’m gonna shower, my love. I’ll leave the door open for ya!”

Hastily you stood up, pulling Leah back by her arm, ignoring the cocky smirk on her beautiful face. “Can you water Rory please?”

Her nose scrunched up in confusion. You, letting her near your beloved plant? unheard of, but she’d take it any day if it would make you happy.

“Yeah! Sure!"

Your wife nearly skipped through the living room, a half-full watering can in one hand, a müsli riegel in the other. 

“How much does she need?”

No answer.

“Darling, What’s up? You’ve been we- Oh.”

She saw it.

the watering can and food forgotten she picked up the hints you had positioned, looking at the positive test and the picture.

“It worked! We’re gonna be mothers!”