#getting words to come out of the mouths of these two... its like pulling teeth

[syoddeye]

What if Simon goes back fo rhis card, but she won't give it back unless he tries again?

prev.

"sound it out, big fella."

simon huffs and glares at the barback in the corner of his eye. the man's pretending not to listen, working a damp cloth over a two-top that's already shining.

the place isn't even open yet. the door's propped ajar with a brick, and it's hours before service starts. he came early on purpose, figuring he could grab his card and go. maybe avoid this exact interaction. but no. here you are, dangling it in front of him.

he could take it. just lean over the counter, swipe it out of your hand, maybe get a handful of your hip and a squeeze in the process. but no, you had to go and get cute about it.

"'and it over."

"nice try. you know i mean whatever line you were going to feed me the other night."

"wasn't gonna feed you a line."

"no? then what the fuck was that? a disappearing act?" you lean forward on the counter, elbows resting on the wood, fists tucked under your chin. it makes you look pixieish, face tilted up, playing at innocence, but the glint in your eyes says otherwise. you're enjoying this. "performance anxiety?"

a lick of heat lashes over the back of his neck and curls around his throat until he swallows. "slip of the tongue."

your mouth takes on a shape he'd find annoying on any other face. you tilt your head, and he swears he can almost see a spade tail swishing behind you.

"right. so then what was the plan?"

"there was no plan."

"mm," you hum, skeptical, dragging it out. "and that's why you've sat closer each time you come in? that wasn't you working up the nerve?"

he could lock a single hand around both of your wrists, hoist them above your head, reclaim his card, and get a good long look down your top. easily. he must harbor some kind of masochistic streak to keep talking. it grinds his teeth.

"no, and you're gettin' on my last nerve—"

"i bet i am," you cut in, cheerful and unbothered. "so why don't i make this easier for everyone, and…"

you pull back, then rise onto your toes, leaning over the bar to reach him. he watches, fingers twitching, as you slide the card into the front pocket of his shirt and pat it twice.

"there's a note taped to the back," you smile, wicked and triumphant. "my number. call it. unless you'd like to run for it again."

simon remains frozen for a beat, your hand lingering just long enough to burn its shape into his chest. his jaw flexes, gears gumming up in his head.

you pull back, light on your feet like you haven't just tucked a grenade into his shirt. that teasing gleam in your eyes, daring, like you're so sure he won't do something. a baited hook, glaring and obvious, as if you don't care he's big enough to snap the line.

he exhales hard through his nose. "you're a pain in the arse."

you grin, wide and unrepentant, backing away with your hands in your apron. "you'll get over it. or not. but you'll call me first."

he watches you retreat through the door to the back, disappearing before he can think of anything clever to say. his mind wiped. instead, he stands there, stuck.

the barback clears his throat, breaking the silence with a nervous chuckle. "she got you, mate."

simon cuts him a look harsh enough to make the man flinch, but he doesn't say a word. he turns on his heel and strides out, letting the door slam against the brick.

later, in the quiet of his flat, he studies the note like it might combust. he twists the corner, staring hard at your name and number. been ages since he got one. longer since he called a bird up.

he doesn't care. shouldn't care. but you've got an attitude, quick and cutting. poking the bear, prodding the bull. testing to see how far he'll let you go. mouthy.

he wants to see what you can do with it.

[gaytommykinard]

little (big) snippet from the next aka the last chapter of and i'll use you as a focal point aka my saltommy fic especially for riley @rdng1230 <3 and shoutout to kayla @agenttommykinard for saving me from having to google american beer names. again.

Sal’s already started on dinner by the time Tommy comes into the kitchen, having changed out of his jeans and into a more comfortable pair of sweats, and there’s something rattling around in his head about having had stripped out of his clothes in Sal Deluca’s bedroom without ending up in bed with the man. 

“Ooh, bacon,” Tommy reaches for a piece from the block Sal’s cutting into little square-shaped pieces, popping it into his mouth.

Sal looks up, shooting him a glare, though there’s an undercurrent of fondness in his gaze, the corners of his mouth threatening to pull back. “It’s guanciale, you heathen,” Sal shakes his head as he returns to the task at hand. “Why do I even bother to cook for your unappreciative American ass?” 

“Excuse me, Mr. Italy.” 

Tommy tries to grab another piece but Sal swats his hand away; he doesn’t look up this time, but Tommy can see the easy grin curving his mouth, charmed by the back-and-forth between the two of them. He looks most like himself in this setting; Tommy’s come to know him well enough that he knows when Sal is at ease, without that tension that he carries in his shoulders at work and around his family. He wonders when it might’ve happened, the first time Sal put his guard down in front of him, if he would have even noticed it − maybe if he hadn’t been so caught up with holding up his own with an iron grip. 

Tommy goes to fetch himself a bottle of those fancy beers that Sal mocks him for liking but still keeps a stock of a few bottles in his fridge, and pulls up a chair and plops down at the island, sipping on his drink and watching the chef work. He spins the bottle in his hands idly until Sal tells him to make himself useful and grate some cheese, pulling out a wedge of pecorino from the fridge and setting it down in front of Tommy next to the grater. 

Tommy’s glad to have something that’ll keep his hands busy. He’s barely had a few sips of the Wisconsin Belgian Red but there’s a warmth flowing through his veins and he doesn’t think it’s the 4% alcohol that’s the reason for it. 

“We could go to Hi Tops again,” he says after a moment of silence, the pair of them working in tandem.

“Oh yeah?” Sal turns to the stove, the guanciale dropping into the hot pan with a loud sizzle, then turns around to face Tommy. “No, no! Tommy!” He reaches out and flips the triangle grater over to the finer side, shooting him a pointed look. 

Tommy blinks, his face the picture of innocence. 

“Just give it here,” Sal grabs the cheese from his hands and gets to work. “Can you get the eggs from the fridge?”

Tommy rolls his eyes as he gets to his feet. He tries to not be too annoyed that the conversation has been derailed. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a control freak?” 

“You love it.” 

“The bartender asked me if you were my boyfriend,” Tommy finally says. “Last time we were there.” 

“Oh yeah?” Sal breathes a laugh. “What’d you tell him?”

Tommy reaches for his drink in lieu of answering. The cool liquid helps settle the nerves rising in his stomach. It’s ridiculous that he has to put this much effort to keep himself grounded for something as simple as this. “He also said you might have been trying to make me jealous.” 

Sal laughs again. “That’s a very observant bartender.” There’s an ease with which he speaks the words as he moves around the kitchen that drives Tommy crazy, both with the desire to pin him to the wall and kiss him stupid, and in the sense that he’s way too fucking nonchalant about this − about everything. 

“I’m gonna tell him you are,” Tommy says finally, a certain type of solid determination in his tone. “Next time we go.” 

“I’m what? Trying to make you jealous?”

“No. The other thing.”

Sal spins around slowly, and his eyes meet Tommy’s. He’s smiling something soft. He puts the wooden spoon down on the counter, rounding the corner of the kitchen island towards Tommy, a hand at the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss, chaste and closed-mouthed, his plump lips slotting between Tommy’s like they were made for it. His thumb is caressing Tommy’s cheekbone when they break apart, eyes meeting again. 

“You can tell them whatever you want,” Sal’s voice is merely above a whisper. “To whoever you want.” 

“Really?” Tommy asks, but he doesn’t give the man a chance to reply before he drapes his arms around Sal’s shoulders, tips his head down to kiss him again. Sal’s arms wrap around his waist and pull him closer and Tommy smiles against his mouth. “You don’t think you’re exaggerating a little bit maybe?”

“No, I’m not,” Sal says, jutting his chin out. “You want me to call my mom and tell her?”

Tommy breaks into a fit of nervous giggles at the thought; God, he wouldn’t be able to ever look Mrs. Deluca in the eye ever again. He drops his head against Sal’s shoulder to hide the blush on his cheeks. “You wouldn’t.” He says, because he knows that Sal is just trying to rile him up, make him squirm. 

“I’ll call her right now.” 

“Shut up.” 

Sal presses his lips to Tommy’s neck before disentangling himself from the man, pulling away entirely. “Let me make us some food, yeah? You just sit there and be quiet.”

[rafesangelita]

♡ rafe is tired, but never too tired to have pretty little sheep!reader bouncing on his cock <3

warnings: dealer!rafe, light fluff, sleepy sex, riding & reverse cowgirl, dirty talk, praise, spanking, hair pulling, use of the name ‘daddy’, tit sucking

a/n: sheep!reader has been getting heavily requested.. so ask and you shall receive! i’ll be giving longer fics a small break until my pogue!sweetheart!reader series is done because my brain is actually going to explode lol

nothing felt better than coming home to you after a long day of bullshit and seeing you in nothing but those cute thigh high socks of yours. especially when you were so needy and willing to do all of the work. you’d give rafe what felt like a thousand kisses all over his face, his arms wrapped around your waist as you gushed about how much you missed him and thought about him all day. “yeah? i missed you more.” you’d smile at his words, quickly getting him out of his clothes.

you massaged the tension out of his shoulders and left trails of kisses along his skin, your boyfriend growing more relaxed as your skilled hands worked to get him unwinded. by the time you were finished, he was barely able to keep his eyes open, his heavy-lidded gaze meeting yours. “what do you want, baby? you’ve been looking at me like you got something on your mind..” your cheeks heated in response, his fingers dancing along your flesh.

“i know you’re tired.. but can i get on top?” a lazy smile made its way to rafe’s lips before he pulled you onto his lap.

“fuck, yeah.”

those two words were all the confirmation you needed, your shaky hands planted on rafe’s thighs as you moved on top of him, his cock filling you to the hilt. watching you move so fluidly on top of him was enough to make his eyes roll to the back of his head, the sight of your soaked cunt gripping him with every drag of your hips drew more moans from him than the last. “ah, f-fuck! you’re just taking that shit..” rafe was mesmerized, his large palm resting in the curve of thigh.

you cried out when his hand came down on the globe of your ass, a stinging sensation spreading across your sensitive skin. “riding me dumb, huh?” rafe grunted, wrapping a fist in your hair before pulling you back against his chest. you were arched almost painfully in this position, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. “poor baby, here by herself all day..” you whimpered, his free hand snaking down your tummy until he had your clit pinched between his fingers.

you shrieked, white, hot pleasure blinding your vision. rafe knew your body like the back of his hand. he knew what would have you yelping in pain, and what would make you all soft and warm like putty in his hands. “riding daddy makes you so fucking wet,” your hips stuttered when rafe starting rubbing hard circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the lewdness of his words, “just letting me use you like the cock slut you are, right?”

“y-yes!” you whimpered, sighing in relief when he let your hair go. “make yourself cum, ‘pretty girl, let me feel you.” rafe watched as you leaned forward, your back arching deliciously as you bounced on his length. your ass met rafe’s thighs in rhythmic claps, the sound making both of you moan. “turn around, precious, ‘needa see that pretty face.” you slid off of him for a moment, finally swinging a leg over his lap before sinking back down on his cock.

pushing his face into your chest, you whined when you felt him take one of your tits in his mouth, his tongue circling around the sensitive bud. he licked and sucked as you worked to make both of you cum. you relished in these moments when you two were panting into each other’s mouths, skin hot and burning with fiery need and desire, never wanting it to end. rafe’s abs constricted as he inched closer and closer to his climax, your thighs aching for a break.

“don’t fucking stop..” rafe dug his fingers in the flesh of your hips, “oh, my god, don’t stop!” he repeated, your eyes brimming with tears as your clit slapped against his pubic bone. as soon as you doubled over, your head falling against his shoulder, rafe knew the band in your tummy finally snapped, his own orgasm hitting him at the same time. embracing you tightly, rafe thrusted up from below you so you could just cum without keeping up your pace.

you shook against him, tears rolling down your cheek and onto his collarbone as you reveled in each wave of pure bliss. rafe’s mouth stayed open, his eyes screwing shut as you milked him for all that he had. eventually, you two came to a stop, your breaths being the only sound in the room. if rafe felt tired before, he was even more drained now.. literally. nothing beat his pretty thing of a girlfriend taking his load at the end of the night.

[d-z20]

Neighbourly Care (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You come home from college for the weekend but your parents forgot and you are locked out of the house. Luckily your neighbour finds you and they let you stay at theirs

-OR-

You think the neighbours are MILFs and the evening is filled with flirting and then you get to be fucked by each of them and then by both of them.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, top Agatha, top Rio, small mention of Mommy kink, strap-on use, oral, there might be more idk it's very horny

Words: 4.6k of pure horniness

A/N: I think I blacked out while writing this, its so horny. It's inspired by this request and hasn't even been proofread yet so enjoy the horny mess of it

Tagging @aceday because I said I would

AO3 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Master List

The rain falls in relentless sheets, soaking through your jacket, and the rest of your clothes, for that matter. Each step squelches as you trudge the familiar path from the train station to your parents’ house. By the time you reach the front door, your teeth are chattering, and your clothes cling damply to your skin. A sigh escapes your lips as you grasp the handle and pull—only to find it locked. Your heart sinks.

The memory hits you like a slap: the locks were changed after they had a break-in a few months ago. Of course, you’ve forgotten to get a new key. Fumbling through your bag, you pray for some miracle, some overlooked backdoor key, but your search turns up nothing except your phone. A quick glance at the screen confirms no messages from your parents and no backup plan. Frustration mingles with despair as you stand shivering, wondering what to do next.

Footsteps break through the downpour, and you turn to see Agatha, your parents’ neighbour, crossing her lawn towards you. You’ve exchanged pleasantries with her and her wife, Rio, a few times during your trips home from college. They’re always friendly, but you’ve never spoken beyond casual greetings. That hasn’t stopped you from admiring them, though—two stunning women, each with their own magnetic charm. And yes, you’ve labelled them MILFs in your mind more than once. Their son, Nicholas, is long gone from the nest, leaving the two women to embody a kind of confident, enviable domesticity.

Agatha snaps you out of your spiralling thoughts with a two short words. “Locked out?” Her voice is smooth, with a hint of amusement as she tilts her head and surveys you.

You open your mouth to respond, but your gaze catches on her appearance. She’s wearing tight black leggings that cling to her toned legs and a cropped gym shirt that reveals her navel, where a bead of rainwater trails tantalisingly down her skin. Her wavy brown hair is piled into a loose bun, though a few strands cling to her flushed neck. A sheen of sweat glistens on her skin—evidence of a workout she must have just finished. Your thoughts betray you as your eyes linger on the curve of her waist, imagining what it might feel like to touch her. A sudden heat rising to your cheeks.

Her blue eyes lock onto yours, a curious smile curving her lips. “Hey, you alright?” she asks, a teasing lilt in her tone.

You stammer an explanation about the locked door, your forgotten key, and your parents’ apparent absence. Agatha’s expression softens, and she motions towards her house with a nod. “Come on, you’re soaked to the bone. You’ll catch your death standing out here.”

For a moment, you hesitate. Accepting her offer feels… intimate somehow. But the alternative is staying in the cold rain, and the way her gaze lingers on you makes warmth crawl up your spine. You nod and follow her.

Agatha’s house is welcoming, with a faint scent of flowers mingling with something earthy and grounding. She grabs a towel from a nearby linen closet and tosses it to you with a playful grin. “Guest bathroom’s down here,” she says. “You’ve got two options: strip down and warm up, or stay wet and risk getting sick.”

Your eyes widen, startled by her bluntness. Agatha leans casually against the doorframe, smirking at your reaction. “Relax,” she teases. “I’ll get you something dry to wear.” And with that, she saunters away, not bothering to close the door fully behind her. Her confidence leaves you both flustered and intrigued.

Inside the bathroom, you peel off your soaked clothes, debating how much to remove. In the end, you leave your underwear on, wrapping yourself tightly in the towel. When Agatha returns, she hands you a pair of shorts and a blue plaid shirt. Her sharp eyes sweep over you, noting your wet underclothes with a tut. “All of it,” she says pointedly. “You’re dripping everywhere.” Before you can respond, she adds, “I’m off to shower. Rio should be back soon.” She turns and leaves, her movements fluid and deliberate, leaving the door ajar once more.

Feeling the weight of her words and gaze, you strip completely, your damp underwear joining the rest of your clothes in a soggy pile. You’re still mulling over what to do with them when the door opens suddenly. Rio steps in, her dark eyes widening as they land on you.

“Oh—sorry,” she says, though her gaze lingers a beat too long before she averts her eyes. “Didn’t know we had company. Agatha didn’t mention it.” Her tone is low and smooth, carrying a quiet amusement that makes your skin prickle.

You stammer an apology, clutching the towel back around you. Rio’s lips quirk upward in a faint smirk as she backs out of the bathroom, but not before you catch the way her gaze sweeps over you. Your heart pounds in your chest long after the door closes.

You quickly shower to warm up, but there’s no cleaning the thoughts inside your head. Memories of Rio’s lingering gaze replay in your mind, but they’re quickly overtaken by images of Agatha. You can’t help imagining what she looks like under the water, her skin glistening with steam, her hair sticking to her neck. The thought is startling, and you shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the fantasy.

After calming your racing mind, you dress in the clothes Agatha left and leave the guest bathroom to find the two women.

You find them both in the kitchen; the warmth a welcome contrast to the chill that had soaked through your bones earlier. Agatha moves fluidly between the stove and counter, stirring something fragrant in a pot that smells like tomatoes, garlic, and fresh herbs. Rio, meanwhile, arranges a bouquet of vibrant flowers in a vase with meticulous care, her strong hands working delicately to adjust the stems.

It’s domestic, serene even, but there’s an undeniable electricity in the air—one you can’t ignore under the weight of their lingering glances.

Agatha’s grin spreads when she notices you lingering awkwardly near the door. “Looking good,” she says, her eyes flickering over the borrowed clothes. The oversized plaid shirt hangs slightly off your shoulder, and her gaze lingers on the exposed line of your clavicle.

You fidget, tugging the fabric up, but Agatha only smirks, stirring the pot with a deliberate slowness.

Rio rolls her eyes, though there’s a faint curve to her lips. “Ignore her,” she says, her voice laced with playful exasperation. “She loves making people squirm.”

You manage a sheepish laugh, but it does little to quell the heat climbing up your neck. Agatha recounts your lockout predicament to Rio with the same teasing edge, her tone carrying just enough detail to make your situation sound both pitiful and amusing.

Rio hums in understanding, sliding the last flower into place and stepping back to admire her work. “Stay for dinner,” she offers, her dark eyes soft with genuine warmth. “It’s the least we can do.”

Agatha winks at you over her shoulder. “Yeah, we can’t have you heading back out into the rain getting all wet again—the downpour outside hasn’t let up.”

You nod, accepting their offer, though the way they exchange glances—subtle but charged—makes your stomach twist with something you can’t quite name.

As you sit at the dining table, Rio who is opposite you, starts pouring red wine into three glasses; her movements fluid and confident. Agatha joins you a moment later, setting down plates of steaming pasta and sitting next to her wife. “Hope you like red,” she says, her teasing smile returning.

The conversation flows easily over dinner; their attention split between each other and you. They ask about college life, your plans for the future, and your family; their questions laced with genuine interest and just enough flirtation to keep you on edge

When you have all finished, Rio stands to clear the plates, leaning close as she reaches for yours. The proximity is dizzying, her chest brushing your shoulder, and you catch a faint, earthy scent clinging to her skin.

Agatha doesn’t miss a beat, her eyes flickering between you and Rio, her expression smouldering. She doesn’t say a word, but the intensity in her gaze speaks volumes.

When you offer to help with the dishes, they wave you off with a chorus of “nonsense.” Agatha’s smile turns wicked. “Besides, we were supposed to have a movie date night tonight. You should join us—it’d be a shame to let all this wine go to waste.”

The phrasing makes you pause, but before you can think too much about it, Agatha ushers you into the living room. 

The room is cozy, bathed in the soft glow of lamps. Rio claims the armchair with an almost feline grace, crossing her legs and leaning back with a glass of wine in hand. Agatha sprawls on the couch, her posture open and inviting. She pats the seat beside her with an easy smile.

You hesitate for half a second before sitting on the far end of the couch, hyper-aware of the space—or lack thereof—between you.

The movie starts, but it’s impossible to focus. Agatha stretches her arm along the back of the couch, her fingers brushing your shoulder lightly. The touch is casual, almost innocent, but it sends your pulse racing.

She leans over at one point to refill your glass, her chest grazing your arm. The heat of her proximity is overwhelming, and you’re sure Rio notices the way you stiffen. There’s a flicker of amusement in her dark eyes as she takes a sip from her own glass, her lips quirking into a faint smirk.

As the movie progresses, the conversation becomes more pointed. They ask if you’re seeing anyone, and when you choke on your wine at the question, Agatha laughs—a low, throaty sound that makes your stomach flutter.

“No,” you mumble, setting your glass down a little too quickly.

“Well, that’s a shame,” she says, her hand brushing your knee lightly. The weight of her touch lingers, even as she pulls away. “I was sure a pretty little thing like you would get snapped up in a heartbeat.”

Rio arches a brow at her wife. “Don’t scare them off, Aggie.”

“What? I’m just being friendly,” Agatha replies, her tone innocent but her smirk anything but.

The conversation continues, peppered with light touches and teasing remarks that leave your heart racing.

By the time the credits roll, the tension in the room is palpable. Rio sets her glass down and stretches, her movements deliberate as she rises from the chair. “What do you think of married life, Aggie?” she asks, her voice light but carrying an edge. “Think we make a good team?”

Agatha’s gaze flicks to you, her lips curving into a smirk. “The best. But sometimes, it’s nice to mix things up.”

The comment hangs in the air, heavy with implication. Your heart pounds as you glance between them, unsure if you’re imagining the tension or if they’re deliberately baiting you—and each other.

You nervously check your phone, hoping for a message from your parents saying they’re home and wondering where you are. Instead, you find a single text: “Out of town for the weekend, hope you’re doing okay!”

You stare at the screen in disbelief, your stomach sinking.

“Everything alright?” Rio asks, noticing your expression.

"They… forgot I was coming,” you admit, feeling foolish. “They’re away for the weekend.”

Agatha clicks her tongue, feigning shock. “Terrible parenting, really. Lucky for you, we’re not going anywhere.”

Rio nods, her tone reassuring. “You can stay here. We’ll take good care of you.”

There’s something about the way she says it—gentle but with a sharp edge—that makes your breath hitch. You thank them profusely, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks as they show you to the guest room.

They leave you alone for a bit, both going to change. You sit on the bed, your thoughts racing. Their lingering glances replay in your mind, stirring something restless and uncertain. Without thinking, you pick up your phone and start searching their names on social media. Your heart beats faster as you hope for a bikini picture or something—anything—that might help you satisfy the growing ache of desire.

A knock at the door startles you, and you quickly set the phone aside. Rio steps in, holding a phone charger. “Thought you might need this,” she says, her voice soft and her gaze steady.

“Thanks,” you manage, taking it from her. Her fingers brush yours for a fleeting moment, and she lingers by the door before slipping away.

Did she know what you were about to do?

A short while later, there’s another knock. This time, it’s Agatha, holding a glass of water. “Thought you might be thirsty,” she says, her tone lighter, almost teasing.

Surely she hears how that sounds, right?

Her fingers graze yours as she hands it to you, and the warmth of her touch lingers long after she leaves. You sit on the edge of the bed, clutching the glass, your mind spinning with questions you can’t answer.

"Okay, it’s totally normal to be offered a glass of water before bed, and it does not mean they can read your mind,” you whisper to yourself, trying to curb your horniness.

—

Later that night, as you lie in bed, unable to sleep, the events of the evening are still playing over in your mind, especially the lingering touches and smirks. Suddenly, you remember the spare key your parents used to keep hidden under the plant pot by the front door. Without even thinking about how weird it was to up and leave in the middle of the night, you hop out of bed and tiptoe down the hallway, careful not to make a sound. But just as you reach the stairs, a voice stops you cold.

“Exactly where do you think you’re sneaking off to?”

Turning slowly, you see Agatha leaning against a doorway, her silhouette illuminated by the faint light from her bedroom. She is wearing a floral robe, and her hair is slightly mussed; her expression is both amused and predatory.

“I—I wasn’t sneaking,” you stammer, holding up your hands defensively. “I just remembered my parents used to keep a spare key under the plant pot. I thought I’d grab it and let myself in—”

“Without saying goodbye?” she interrupts, stepping closer. Her tone is teasing, but there’s a sharpness to her gaze that makes your pulse quicken.

Before you can respond, another figure appears behind her. It’s Rio, wearing nothing but her underwear and a top that reads: BOHNER FAMILY REUNION. PITCH A TENT. Her dark hair is messy, and you notice a small, mouth-shaped bruise blooming on her neck that definitely wasn’t there earlier.

“You were being so good for us before now,” Rio says softly, her voice carrying an edge that makes your knees weak. “We said we’d take care of you, didn’t we?”

The heat in your cheeks is unbearable now, and there is a familiar wetness pooling between your thighs. You stammer out an apology, but their combined presence is overwhelming.

“Relax,” Agatha purrs, her fingers grazing your arm. “We’re not upset, just disappointed you wouldn’t come see us before saying goodbye.”

Before you can process her words, Rio steps forward, her hand gently tilting your chin up to meet her gaze. “Where were you going to sleep after grabbing that key, hmm? Your parents’ dark, empty house? Sounds pretty lonely to me,” she murmurs, her lips curving into a faint smirk as Agatha’s hands slide around your waist.

Rio’s touch is featherlight yet commanding, her fingers tilting your chin just enough to keep your wide-eyed gaze locked with hers. Her dark eyes glimmer with something unreadable—intensity, curiosity, desire, maybe all three. 

You’re painfully aware of Agatha’s hands on your waist, her touch firm but teasing, fingers curling just slightly as if testing your reaction. “And what would you do when you found out that they no longer keep one there? They stopped doing it since the break-in, don’t you know? Would you come back over here and beg for us to take you back in and keep you warm?” Agatha says softly, her breath brushing against the back of your neck. 

You try to answer, but your words stick in your throat as Rio steps closer, her thumb brushing along your jawline.

“She’s right,” Rio adds softly, her voice low and velvety. “Why sneak off when you’re already here?”

Your heart is racing, your pulse pounding in your ears as you look between them. You want to say something—anything—but the weight of their combined attention renders you speechless.

Agatha chuckles, the sound rich and almost predatory. “Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” She presses closer, her front brushing against your back now, her lips grazing the shell of your ear.

Before you fully realise what’s happening, Agatha and Rio are guiding you away from the stairs. You’re caught between them, their touches subtle yet deliberate. They lead you down the hall, past the guest room, and into the master bedroom.

The room is large but intimate, the air carrying the faint scent of cedarwood. A soft glow from a bedside lamp casts warm shadows across the space. Agatha releases your waist to close the door behind you; the click of the lock is startlingly loud in the quiet.

Rio takes the lead now, her hands resting lightly on your arms as she guides you towards the bed. Her touch is warm and grounding, yet there’s a deliberate slowness to her movements, like she’s savouring the moment.

“You’ve had a long day,” she says, her voice soothing but laced with something deeper. “Let us take care of you.”

Agatha steps into view, her smirk as confident as ever. “Or, we can stop. If that’s what you want?” She asks, tilting her head as she studies you.

Your heart pounds as you shake your head, unable to trust your voice. 

Agatha’s smile widens, satisfaction gleaming in her bright blue eyes. “Be good and use your words for us, hun.”

“Please don’t stop,” you whimper.

At that, Agatha moves swiftly to your other side, her presence as bold as ever. Her fingers brush against your jaw, turning your head slightly so you’re looking directly at her. “You’re so tense,” she murmurs, her thumb grazing your cheek in a gesture that feels both comforting and intimate. “We’ll fix that.”

You barely have time to process her words before Rio steps closer, her body heat radiating against yours. Her hand trails down your arm, her touch featherlight but deliberate, as if she’s memorising every inch of you.

The room seems to shrink as the weight of their attention consumes you. 

Agatha’s thumb brushes against your bottom lip, and you feel a thrill shoot through you as her lips quirk into that teasing, predatory smile.

“See something you like?” she murmurs, her voice a low purr. “You weren’t careful enough not to like some of our pictures online, darling.”

Shit. So their coming into your room was not a coincidence.

Before you can stammer out an excuse, her lips capture yours—soft but demanding, her confidence evident in the way she takes control. Her hands slide up to cradle your face, her touch firm yet tender, while the kiss is a paradox of teasing and intensity.

Rio’s hands suddenly slide to your hips, pulling your attention. Agatha leans back just slightly, her breath fanning your face as her lips curve into a smirk.

“Your turn, my love,” she says, glancing at Rio with a playful challenge in her eyes.

Rio doesn’t hesitate. Her movements are firm as she tilts your chin towards her, her lips finding yours in a kiss that’s slower, softer, but no less consuming. Where Agatha is fire and fervour, Rio is water, her touch calm yet undeniably intoxicating. Her hand presses gently against the small of your back, holding you steady as she deepens the kiss.

When she finally pulls away, her lips linger close to yours, her breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the room. “You taste as good as I thought you would,” she murmurs, her voice low and laced with something that makes your knees weak.

Agatha laughs softly, stepping even closer so that you’re cocooned between them. Her fingers trail down your arm, igniting sparks along your skin. “I think they’re enjoying this, don’t you darling?” she teases, her gaze flicking between you and Rio.

Rio smirks, her eyes glinting in the dim light. “I’d say so.”

They exchange a knowing glance before Agatha’s hands firmly grip your shoulders, and with a playful yet commanding push, they guide you onto the bed, the softness of the sheets contrasting with the harsh intensity of their movements.

Agatha walks into what you presume is her closet, but you don’t think on it for long as Rio is straddling you in a matter of moments. She is kissing you with a deep need; meanwhile, her hand makes its way under the waistband of your shorts; she swipes two of her fingers through your folds, gathering your wetness, letting out a groan of pleasure at the feel of it and brings her fingers to your lips.

Just as you’re about to take her digits in your mouth, you hear Agatha’s voice full of desire call, "Off."

But Rio doesn’t move; instead, she pushes her fingers into your mouth, groaning at the feeling.

Agatha grabs the woman by the scruff of the neck and yanks her off of you.

“But Aggie, they’re so wet already,” Rio whines.

If your lips weren’t already parted from having sucked on Rio’s fingers, your mouth would have dropped open at the sight of Agatha; she had removed her robe, revealing the purple lace lingerie underneath.

She places something you can’t see at the foot of the bed and comes to stand next to you. “It seems like everything you wear ends up soaked,” she says, mock concern coating every word. 

Rio looks longingly at Agatha, a silent request on her face. With a single nod from Agatha, Rio starts undressing you hungrily. And as soon as you're bare, her mouth is on you again, exploring every inch of newly exposed skin.

“You know,” Agatha drawls, “Before your little stunt back there, my wife and I were finishing off our date with a wonderful night in bed.” She continued. “Both of us talked—or rather tried to talk between our moans—about how we’d get you to join us.” You feel Rio smirk against your skin at this last sentence.

You shudder under Rio’s relentless kisses and Agatha’s firm gaze. Your legs are forced apart with strong hands, and you feel the cool air hit your heat.

“You’re dripping everywhere,” Agatha states for the second time that evening. “Now let us take care of you.” Her voice is sure, leaving no room for arguments.

Rio’s makes her way down your body, nipping and sucking at your skin. When she reaches your thighs, her touch becomes lighter, stopping short of where you want her mouth most.

“Please.” You beg, back arching up into her.

The feeling of her lips on your clit is pure ecstasy. Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation of Rio starting to suck lightly. Moaning, you grab a fistful of her hair and grind up into her face, seeking more. 

She hums in satisfaction, happy to fulfil your request. She nips gently and begins to tease your entrance with her tongue, dipping it in ever so slightly. It doesn’t take long before you’re cumming all over her face, her name falling repeatedly from your lips. It’s only when you start to come back down that you remember Agatha is still in the room. She is looking at you with sheer lust, clearly struggling to keep herself from interrupting Rio’s fun. 

As if they could read each other’s minds, Rio withdraws from between your legs and comes to sit behind you, pulling you up so your back is against her chest. She pinches one of your nipples, causing your head to drop back on to her shoulder. A firm hand grips your chin, forcing it back up, and you open your eyes to see Agatha kneeling between your legs, her hands rubbing up and down your thighs.

“You need to look at Mommy when she fucks you,” Rio whispers in your ear before playfully nibbling your earlobe.

Agatha’s arms snake under your legs, pulling your hips up and into her. It’s then that you feel something hard poke you, making your eyes go wide. At some point when Rio was fucking you, Agatha had slipped into a harness, a purple dildo secured firmly in the centre.

“Are you sure you want this?” She asks, bringing the tip to your entrance. “I’ll only continue with your enthusiastic consent.”

The fact that she cares enough to make sure you were definitely okay with this, only turns you on more. “Yes. Please, Agatha—" Rio's grip on your jaw tightens. “Mommy,” you correct yourself. “Please fuck me, Mommy.”

And with that, she slides into you, facing very little resistance with how wet you are. As she bottoms out, her hips pressing into yours, you can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips.

“Kiss me,” you demand.

You hear Agatha chuckle when she leans into you, capturing your lips in a searing kiss while still continuing her thrusts. 

The sex is messy and loud, and you cum at least two more times before the couple shows any kind of stopping. You are left gasping, your body shaking; Rio’s firm hold on you is the only thing keeping you upright.

“Think you can go for one more round, sweetheart?” Agatha teases as Rio climbs out from behind you.

With the strap still inside you, Agatha rolls you over so she is lying on the bed and you are straddling her hips. The other woman settles her thighs on either side of Agatha’s head, facing you.

“Honey, you really have enjoyed having our guest round, haven’t you?”

Rio doesn’t reply, only winking at you before lowering herself onto Agatha’s face.

You start to grind your hips at the sight, the strap hitting the perfect spot inside you, Agatha begins to flick her tongue over Rio’s clit, and Rio pulls your face in to start making out with you. This change in position has the harness rubbing against Agatha’s clit, pulling the most gorgeous moans from her. All of you are lost in waves of pleasure; the sounds of grunting, moaning, and whining filling the room. 

You all cum at different times, but it doesn’t matter because nobody stops until the last of you is coaxed through the final aftershocks of your orgasms.

Untangling yourself from one another, you and Rio flop down beside Agatha, dumb smiles plastered across all of your faces. It’s a few minutes before they get up, but Agatha takes off the harness, giving it to her wife before coming back and drawing you into her arms. Rio wanders off to their bathroom to clean it off and returns with a wet cloth to clean you up as well.

She rejoins you after she's done and presses a soft kiss to your head, coming to lay down behind you, draping her arm across your body. With the three of you like that, it is not long before you fall into a deep sleep, a small smile still visible on your lips. 

You were going to ache in the morning, but right this second you couldn’t find a single fuck to give.

——

Please like&reblog if you enjoyed, I thrive off external validation and it motivates me to write more stuff like this 👀

read part 2 here :)

[screampied]

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, vampire toji, unprotected, cowgirl, biting, whiny toji, breeding, mdni.

vampire toji can’t help but bite deep into your neck while you’re aligning yourself on his cock. he’s needy, sharp keen fangs ready to dig deep into your skin and relish in your sweet forbidden taste. “fuck,” he snarls, briefly tossing his head back as a darkened leather cloak sticks against his skin. he’s hot, but with your body glued against him he’d even hotter. his hair’s all matted and in his face, a mere wolf cut - it’s pretty, bangs of sable-dark strands run down his face as he chews onto his lip. “c’mon, hurry up. ‘s gettin’ close.”

and part of that was true—he was never one to last long, especially because of how overly sensitive he always was. you’re softly jerking your hips forward with his mushroom tip kissing up against your drooling opening before he grunts. “mhm, curses. y- y’er killin’ me, princess.”

you were so wet. he felt it, the sobbing squelches that screech from your cunt made his mouth water. he was enthralled, bringing two large hands to grip against your hips. “toji, relax,” you tease, brushing a thumb against his fang that stuck out his lip. he collapses back against his rocking chair, feeling a surge of shockwaves pulse through him. the vampire grows quiet, hearing the harmony of your heat swallow him whole. “that’s it baby, relax,” and his bottom lip quivers at your praise. he can’t help but bury his face back into the crook of your neck, seeping honed fangs into your skin. the gentle nips and pokes make you giggle, but your giggle forms into a lewd moan once you feel his hardened dick prod against your heat thrice.

“tch, don’t call me that, human.” he scoffs, a flush growing against his face — he’s still got you in a tight secure hold, steadying your rocking hips. toji has a soft pout before your hands cup his face. he’s so weak, weak for your cunt and even more weak for you.

you feel the sharp edges of his fangs playfully pull at a nice amount of flesh, gently pursing his lips around your collarbone before he starts to suck.

“thaaaat’s it, good ‘toj,” you murmur, concealing an incoming moan. piercing both of your knees into his beefed thighs, toji groans. a soft whine rips straight out of his throat as you start to rock. your hips were deadly, the tempo you had was almost brutal. he feels as if his body was on fire. toji squeezes his eyes shut as he feels the grip of your soddened wet cunt. “good boy, good.”

“f- fuck,” he hisses, pointed overgrown fingernails clawing at your skin.

he’s gentle but he can’t help but carve a few marks near your skin. just a bit. toji was already feral — his heavy cock was continuously punctuating its hits within every few thrusts as you slam back down against his lap. he’s dizzy, blurbs of whimpers spewing from his spit-glossed lips before he growls. “ugh, you got some nerve callin’ me a ‘good boy’ you b- brat.”

you hum, wisping a few fingers through his unkempt black strands before kissing his chin. “aw, does the vampire not like to get praised?”

he feels his body temperature arise at your words. you meet his gaze and his dead dark irises were dilated and blown. he’s so infatuated, of course he lived off of your praises. the last time you told him how good he was making you feel, he came right through his pants. embarrassing, he knew it was embarrassing but with you—he just couldn’t help it. he lets off an annoyed grunt as his teeth attach to your neck, allowing your irony flavor to trickle into his mouth as you continue to grind against him.

his balls were swollen. he was already preparing himself for when it was about to come. it was inevitable. toji swallows thickly, watching with hooded eyes as you throw your arms over his shoulders.

“no?” you purr at him diving your question, skimming a thumb over the sharp pointed lobes of his ears. the base of his cock was a tannish color but a creamy flush of pink pours over it after a while. your voice was so pretty, having his ears twitch at every word you pronounced. he avoids your gaze, deepening his gentle chomp into your neck before flicking his tongue against your skin. his favorite treat.

“p- princess,” he growls in a gruff tone, clenching his jaw. with each crazed bounce, his ears fill with more repetitive ringing. he was so sensitive, especially like this—underneath you, manspread and beads of sweat racing down his forehead. toji’s head throws back again, and this time, his mouth pries itself open, jaw hanging out. “gonna cum, ngh, ‘m gonna cum again.”

you plant a few kisses near his chin— specifically attacking his little scar that slants itself right down the right side of his mouth.

his lip curls and twitches and he feels you suck him in oh so good. toji’s throat grows dry - he tries to swallow but he can’t, your hips were no match for him. “oh, that’s too bad,” and you cup his face again, gingerly placing your lips against his trembled ones. he’s so pussy drunk that he could barely return the kiss—instead, he just moans right into your mouth. cooing against his lips, you stroke a thumb against his cheek before whispering. “you said you could last a little longer this time, baby.”

toji groans at the way your ass rudely jerks against him. it was so sloppy, he heard it all. it was so salacious that he grips your hips and runs his fingers against your rear as if it was perfectly shaped. “i- i can,” he grunts, dark brows contorting together in frustration. a lump forms its way to the back of his throat before his eyes roll back. he looked so pretty - so determined.

but he couldn’t — he knew he couldn’t.

because not even seconds later, he’s shootings blanks, cumming right inside of you. a hot satiny load shoots into you raw and at the same time, he bites into your flesh again.

candy sweet muffled sobs of moans pierce into your skin as you’re rutting back and forth against him but bringing your hips to a slow stop. he’s so whiny, hot pants of breath wafting against your bare skin. you smell so good, it’s making his head spin and his ears burn a scorching hot. toji gifts a nice amount of sweltering hot cum to you and it’s so much. it’s overflowing your pussy and you let off a soft gasp. “so messy,” you huff, glancing up to see his droopy eyed expression. toji’s still got two hands glued onto you before he groans hoarsely, clammy hands clinging onto your ass tightly.

you wring him dry and he’s entirely speechless. creating a wet sucking noise once he finally departs his mouth away from your neck. your warmth inside has him by a leash, his brows remain to arch together before the vampire stares at the mess he created. it’s spilling right out of you due to how much, wads and wads of stringy ropes dribble from your swollen opening to between your thighs and he whines. “ngh, s- so much,” and he drags a calloused thumb to swipe up a nice decent amount, eyeing it carefully. you watch as he pants, bedaubing his own cum right back against your slit and he’s got the most cutest pout, licking his lips as if preparing to feast. you wanted to kiss his pout off of him, but right when toji was about to get a taste for himself, you grab his wrist.

“no, toji,” you hum, watching his eyes shoot daggers at you. even he couldn’t maintain his angered expression for long because you were still playfully moving your hips around him, swerving whilst his now flaccid cock remains still inside. toji was a mess, his left thigh briefly starts to bounce, begging and pleading for you to start up your bouncing again. as his crooked pouty lips shine with glimmer, his fang pokes out again before you lean up against him, going right toward his ear. “not yet. you’re supposed to ask to touch yourself, remember?”

he scoffs. the audacity, you felt him tremor from underneath you and the way your clingy walls hugged him tight like a vice. you were ravaged, feeling his blushing tip keep your insides warm through each second. slump back against his chair, he huffs. “yes, fine,” and his hands grab against your waist. “n- now finish riding me or else,”

and he can’t even keep a straight face—because he lets off a grumble under his breath, a flush painting his face with his head down. “. . . please mistress.”

[81sainz]

DIET PEPSI ★ L. NORRIS

★ PAIRING: boyfriend!lando x female!reader

★ GENRE: NSFW

★ SUMMARY: in which lando pulls over to watch the sunset with you in his porsche; things take a turn from there.

inspired by “diet pepsi” by addison rae

★ WORD COUNT: 1.2k

★ WARNINGS: car sex, semi public sex, nasty kissing, making out, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, teeny bit of praise cause I can’t help myself, cumshot. lando is soooo sweet. I think that is all! please be noted this is only semi proofread.

★ AUTHORS NOTE: finally! making my formula 1 fic debut! I hope you all enjoy this. I started writing this somewhere before summer break and unfortunately just got to finishing it. life…am I right? I guess the lyrics hold true because my boy has won 2 times since then! I know this one’s a bit short, but feedback is appreciated!

“Are you sure no one is up here?” you asked your boyfriend as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

Lando reached over slightly and gave your thigh an affirmative squeeze. “It’s fine, I was looking around.”

The two of you were on a drive in his 911 carrera and pulled off to a small spot up on a hill that overlooked the city. It was later in the evening and the sun was setting; casting an orange glow over Lando when he turned to you.

“You look so pretty in the light. Come here.”

Lando adjusted his seat before helping you over the center console and gearshift of his vehicle.

“I don’t want to break anything.” You spoke out loud with a laugh as Lando had his hand on your leg to help you.

Lando shushed you. “You’re fine, I’ve got you.”

You were in his lap within seconds; adjusting the skirt that you were wearing slightly to get more comfortable.

“Comfortable?” Lando brushed your hair off of your shoulder before planting a few kisses softly onto your skin near your collarbone.

You hummed in response, nodding before combing your fingers through his soft curly hair as his mouth made its way up to your neck.

You let a small whimper escape your lips when Lando’s teeth scraped your skin slightly.

Your hand tightened in his hair as you rocked your hips into his lap; feeling his bulge through his jeans.

“Fuck.” Lando swore under his breath as his hands roamed your thighs and to the curve of your ass underneath your skirt.

“I want this off of you.” Lando glanced up at you quickly for any sign for him to stop before unbuttoning and unzipping your skirt, removing the item of clothing from your body and throwing it into the passenger seat.

You mentally thanked yourself for the outfit choice of yours.

“Wow.” Lando let out a sigh, leaning to kiss you again as his hands returned to their place on your thighs, and moved up to your waist.

You were eager for him, grabbing a hold of his white button down shirt for any way to get him closer to you.

Lando shifted in the driver seat, his hands holding your hips as his jeans brushed against your cunt.

You let out a moan into his mouth, and Lando took that as an opportunity to tongue kiss you; reaching up to grab the nape of your neck with one of his hands.

Pulling away slightly with a hum, you noticed Lando’s breathing to be slightly more erratic than before.

“Baby, I need you..” Your voice faded when Lando kissed you again. You knew you didn’t really have to say anything; Lando knew you like the back of his hand.

“I’ve got you.” Lando mumbled, guiding you to rest your knee up onto the door panel of his porsche. “Stay like this for me, ok?”

You nodded, biting down onto your bottom lip as he locked eye contact with you.

Lando quickly glanced in his rearview mirror to check if anyone was around; still nobody.

He pulled the fabric of your underwear to the side, audibly groaning at how easily his middle and ring finger slipped inside of you.

You let out a whimper, squeezing onto his bicep for some stability.

“Oh my fuck, why didn’t I take you home?” Lando was talking to himself, because there was no way you were going to answer him.

There was absolutely no space between the two of you, as this car was not ideal.

You could hear the squelching noise coming from underneath you, making you look down; covering your mouth to stifle your moans. There was nothing that Lando hated more than when you hid from him.

“Get that hand off of your mouth, sweetheart.” Lando spoke, slipping a third finger into your cunt; knowing you’d react.

“Good girl, gonna cum for me?” Lando asked, kissing your jaw and down towards your collarbone. “Hmm?”

You were breathless, but still managed to use your words. “No.” You paused, your voice sounding like a whimper, grabbing onto Lando’s shirt as you tried not to fall apart. “I need you to fuck me, please.”

“Fuck, are you sure?” He asked, his face centimeters from yours. Lando was taken aback at your forwardness, but willing to do anything you wanted.

You hummed, nodding before kissing him. You moved your hand down between your legs; feeling the now very prominent bulge in Lando’s jeans.

He let out a deep throaty groan at the contact. “Fuck.”

You tried to unbutton his jeans really fast, but with your position on his lap it wasn’t working.

“I got it, I got it.” Lando’s larger and more steady hand replaced yours as he worked his pants down to leave enough room for his cock.

You let out a sigh when you felt him teasing the head of his leaking cock against your folds. “I can’t believe we’re doing this here.”

“What?” Your voice was breathy as Lando gripped your hips to lower you down onto him. Your question was instantly replaced by a moan of his name.

“Nothing.” Lando grunted before throwing his head back. “God, how do you feel so fucking good?”

He still had a grip on your hips; hitting all of the right spots that drove you insane.

“Hmm- Fuck!” You cried out. “Right there, right there.”

“Shit.” Lando swore, letting go of you with one hand to have you look at him. “You’re cumming already?”

You eagerly nodded before Lando suddenly crashed his lips with yours. The kiss is sloppy; messy.

You could feel your thighs starting to ache, and a tinge of overstimulation when Lando applied pressure to your clit with the pads of his fingers.

Gasping, you pulled away from the kiss, swearing under your breath as Lando was pulling another orgasm from you so quickly as you still fucked yourself on his cock.

“You can give me one more, yeah?” His voice was low as his hot breath ghosted your face. “Make a fucking mess out of my car.”

In your attempts to slam down onto him harder, your rhythm faltered as you came again. Your legs were now shaking as you clenched around Lando’s cock.

The sun was almost down, making it somewhat difficult to see his reaction; but you had an inkling that he had to be close.

“Lando…” Your voice was a slight whimper again, making Lando wince. “Cum in me, please.”

“God im close, im really fucking close.” Lando spoke, sucking in a shallow breath through gritted teeth.

It wasn’t too long after that he finally reached his peak, nearly holding you down on his lap as he grunted expletives as he tried to be as quiet as possible.

“Lando…” you winced as you already felt the mess between your legs. “Stay inside of me like this.” You leaned into him, resting your head on his heaving chest.

“We can’t stay here.” You could tell Lando was smirking by the way his voice sounded. One of his hands smoothed out your hair before he kissed the top of your head. “I know you’re tired, but we can’t.”

“I know.” You huffed, exaggerating a pouty attitude. “You’re so warm.” You kissed Lando near his mouth a few times, making him scrunch his nose.

Finally you sat up, letting Lando help you off of his lap and into the passenger seat. The two of you fixed your clothing before Lando leaned over the center console to kiss you.

“Okay, take me home.”

[nanaslutt]

Geto would beg to put it in…

hahahhehehehoohooho yes he would

geto needs to zip tie his mouth shut because it’s so FILTHY

MDNI

He would rub the tip up and down your folds, smearing his cock all over your pussy lips, looking down at you with a weak smile.

"Please baby, wanna put it in now, please." He begged. Your hand was gripped firmly against his scalp, his soft hair between your fingers. "Mmm, but it feel so good when you rub your tip on my clit like that."

He repeated the action again, hoping him obeying you would let him get his cock inside you sooner. "They're kissing, how cute." you whined.

Geto looked down between the two of you and saw your little clit catch perfectly in the slit of his dick when he used it to rub circles against the nub. When he looked back up at your flushed face, pretty eyes staring up at him through your lashes, he had to try not to blow his load prematurely.

He gripped the base of his cock firmly, aiding him in staving off his orgasm. "Yeah yeah so cute,” he rushed, “Can I please put it in now? Gonna cum all over your clit if I dont stop rubbin it like this." need laced in his voice when he spoke.

He had started to slide his cock back down to your entrance, getting stopped in his ministrations when you yanked his head back, making him whine, "Fuck!" he groaned, tip leaking out more precum at the delicious pain on his scalp.

"Maybe I wont let you put it in at all, since youre being so impatient," you huffed breathily, trying to sound dominate but the need ultimately sneaking its way into your voice.

"Come onnnnn," Geto dragged out the syllables, "I know you need it too.." Leaning his big frame down over yours, pressing his mouth to your ear as his deep voice vibrated in your ears, "Please let me fuck you baby, need to cum so deep inside your little pussy, need it so bad." He teasingly groaned when your hold that was still on his head made itself known again, pulling the strands at his dirty words.

"You like that idea?" he kept pushing, knowing he was winning you over, "want me to stuff you full of my cum, huh?" he moaned into your ear, pressing the tip against the tight ring of your cunt before retracting the pressure, repeating that action a couple times, successfully making you needy for him.

"S-supposed to be you begging m-me, not the other way around suguru." you wined, feeling yourself lose the hold you had over him, geting lost in the pleasure and promise of what was to come.

"Your so right baby," he cooed, sucking your earlobe into his hot mouth and stimulating it with his tongue before he spoke again, "Please let me put it in, pretty please." He asked, concecending tilt in the undertones of his pleasding voice, “M about to cum jus’ thinking about it…”

"O-ok, you can put it i-" Sentence getting cut off with a moan when he thrusted the entire length of his cock inside you all at once.

Geto buried his face into the crook of your neck, gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw when he was fully inside, "F-fuckkk, haha," he groaned, balls already twitching, and stomach coiling with the need to cum. "So- fucking- tight-" He growled, fucking his words into you.

Lifting his head to get a better view of your face, he caressed the side of your teary cheek when he spoke, "Thank you for letting me fuck you baby, so fucking good to me." Groans and moans filled the air as he thoroughly fucked you into the mattress for the rest of the night in appreciation.

yeaahhhh, geto would def beg to put it in :p

[chocolilies]

─── SWEAT. ꒱

( ୨ৎ. fushiguro toji x fem!teacher!reader. . .ᐟ

toji comes to pick megumi up from his training, expecting to be met with his white-haired asshole of a teacher, only to meet gojo's newer, cuter replacement.

◟ꪆ୧ slight nsfw (toji stares at reader's tits, reader imagines getting groped by him), au where toji is alive + takes care of megumi, bold yet sneaky flirting, megumi's in middle school. wrote this on a whim bc i need toji BAD.

w.c: 1.6k

also on ao3 + jjk masterlist !

“that’s your dad?”

you’d heard mention of fushiguro toji before, whether it be from his son or from gojo as he had explained how he’d let the “sorcerer killer” live under the promise of taking care of the boy that was now standing at your side. 

“don’t you dare.”

megumi gritted his teeth as he watched you goggle at the man you were approaching, hand wrapped around your wrist as if he was pulling back a dog on a leash, and by the way you were staring at toji, he might as well have been. 

“what!?” you let out an offended gasp, turning to look at your glaring student, tiny face scrunched up in disgust at the mere thought of what was going through your brain. 

“i know what you're like.”

you froze in your place, horrified expression framing your sweaty face as the cicadas roared around you, framing the silence after that comment in an almost comedic manner. 

you watched as megumi continued to walk ahead, a bored look on his face once he turned around to wait for you to catch up at the edge of the tiny wasteland you’d both been training in, letting you wonder as you caught up to him just what gojo had told him before he’d first introduced the both of you.

you started spluttering out a mix of words in disbelief once you reached his side, but whatever you’d tried to say immediately got stuck in your throat as soon as you finally caught a better look at the man that had sparked the short lived argument.  

oh, fuck.

“who’s this?” you watched attentively as the muscles in toji’s arms bulged beneath his tight shirt at the tiniest movement, feeling your mouth water at the mere sight of them. 

god, you felt dirty just staring at him.

“my teacher.” megumi grunted, shoving his backpack off and flinging it into his dad’s chest, walking towards the bus stop further ahead without bothering to say goodbye, knowing he’d see you around sooner or later. 

“I thought that white-haired brat was his teacher,” toji grunted out, flinging the backpack over his shoulder as he turned to look down at you, quirking up a brow as he immediately noticed your nervous demeanour, a drop of sweat dripping down your temple before rolling down your neck and towards your exposed cleavage, green eyes following it’s whole journey and lingering on the spot where it disappeared.  

it’d been a while since toji had stared at someone this way. he hadn't looked twice at anyone, regardless of their attractiveness or willingness, ever since his wife died and tsumiki’s mom left. 

but that amount of time without anyone to touch or kiss or feel would have its toll on anyone, and toji was no exception. 

which is why he initially blamed it on that. 

neediness.

he doesn't feel anything for megumi’s teacher, you’re just too pretty and exposed and worked up to ignore, right? it’s not like he’d actually think of pursuing something with you. 

he snapped out of it once you spoke, expecting to meet an angered expression and an insult about his perversion once he raised his gaze, only to find you straight up ogling his arms and chest. 

the way he stares at your pretty, scrunched up face when you aren't looking, proves him wrong.

initially, you might've been able to attribute your clammy palms and sweaty skin to the blasting summer heat, or to the fact you’d just finished a four hour training session with the tiny grade two sorcerer who gojo had been training for the past few years. 

“I'm his co-worker,” you stuttered out, forcing yourself to look away from the veins that swelled in his arms and up to his green eyes, not wanting the man to see just how much he was affecting you. “satoru’s on a mission, so I'll be taking care of ‘gumi ‘till then.”

toji hummed, taking your gawking as an invitation to do his own, allowing his eyes to trail over your flustered expression and sweaty skin, lingering on the more exposed parts of your outfit, thanking whatever god was up there for the stupid heatwave that had hit their country as of late. 

“mission, huh?” toji snickered, turning his head to look at the boy who was sitting at the bus stop with one of the divine dogs at his side, resting his tired body against its black fur. “how long will y’be around?”

“well, until ‘toru comes back, I guess…” you trailed off, mouth going dry as you watched the man take a tiny step towards you, raising one of those big hands you’d been ogling before to brush against your cheek, a shiver wracking through your whole body at the light contact, his skin burning against yours, making you just how a man that ran as hot as that was able to survive in this weather, especially when he dressed like it was winter.

“y’had some dirt on y’cheek,” toji almost purred out, flicking his fingers to get rid of the grime that had probably stuck to you during the many times megumi’s divine dogs had flung you around. 

“oh, I'm probably covered in dirt,” you laughed out nervously, taking a step back to put the same distance as before between you two, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand while trying to ignore how electrifying his touch had felt. “I always seem to find myself taking an everything-shower after training with ‘gumi, he’s ruthless.”

toji fell silent, watching you as you shook your arms and head, probably trying to get rid of whatever debri that was still stuck to your body, grin pulling at the scar in the corner of his lips. “need me t’clean you up, that what you're saying?”

huh? 

you blinked stupidly as your mind attempted to process what he had just said. were you misunderstanding his words or his tone? or was he really suggesting what your mind had immediately jumped to?

that was not what you were saying, but you certainly would not be complaining if he did. 

you felt your cheeks warm as you imagined what that might look like: big, warm, calloused hands on your skin as you stood under the steady stream of the shower, hot water pouring over the both of you as he dragged a sponge over your skin, free hand resting on your tummy right above where you needed him most, groping and caressing the plus skin, body pressed tightly against his in such a way that you could just feel his growing cock pressing against your ba-

oh, what the fuck.

you imagined punching yourself in the face, snapping you out of the downright filth you were acting out in your mind with a man you had just met, not to mention, the father of your student. 

“jeez, pick your jaw up, ‘m messing with ya.” you grunted as two of his fingers landed under your chin, shoving your mouth shut with a shit-eating grin, clearly enjoying the fact that he had gotten such a reaction out of you with a mere joke. “‘s not appropriate f’me to flirt with ‘gumi’s teacher.”

“s-sorry.” you struggled to even push out that simple word, trying to figure out just what the hell had gotten into you to make you act like this, not even processing the fact that he had just admitted to flirting with you. 

were you ovulating? was it that time of the month already? or was toji’s overwhelming presence truly just enough to get you acting like a bitch in heat?

“old man,” you snapped out of it as you heard megumi shout out for his father from behind you both, “bus is coming.”

toji chuckled, raising a thumbs up to the boy in response before turning back to look at you, taking in your shaky figure with a smirk.

“which means I'll just hafta wait ‘till that blue-eyed brat comes back and you're not his teacher anymore.”

you blinked owlishly up at him, and toji could just see the cogs whirring and moving around in your mind, trying to make sense of what he'd just said. 

“give me y’number once he does. hope that offer to clean you up will still be available by then.” 

god, he was a big fat liar. if he had been telling the truth before, he would not be asking that, he would not be (for once) looking forward to seeing that white haired bastard, as it would mean he would be free to pursue you. 

toji walked away after dropping that bombshell, not having to turn to look at you to know that you were staring at him walk away, ignoring the way his son was glaring at him while he held a hand out to stop the bus. 

“what?” he grinned, pulling their transport passes out as the bus opened its doors, megumi’s divine dog curling around the boy protectively like it usually did. “your teacher's hot,”

“you disgust me,” megumi deadpanned, snatching the pass out of his father’s hand before boarding the bus, dog quickly following up the step with a wag of its tail, phone already out and ready to message tsumiki to complain about their father, leaving toji to do the same. well, not before he turned to sneak a final look at you. 

you had walked away from the field, heading towards a black car nearby he assumed had been sent by the school, phone in hand as you talked into the speakerphone, shaky voice ringing out in such a way even he could hear it. 

“ieiri, how wrong would it be for me to hook up with a future student’s father?”

[shawtuzi]

request: ‘Can you please write a Toji x (blk)fem reader smut but she like one of those earthy girls with all the waist chains/beads and he like obsessed with her style and all the jewelry she wears. boho/earthy girls don’t get enough love.’

i hear you anon and i see you so here you go <333

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ cw include: drug usage (weed), oral m receiving, unprotected sex, riding, slight pussyjob, toji likes her sm so a lot of praise, PUSSYDRUNK TOJI!!!, sex outdoors (no one can see them hehe), creampie, an ‘i like you’ confession bc i’ve been watching a lot of rom coms lately///not proofread sorry :(

‘it’s a lot of lust not a lot of love’

you hummed along to the song as you made out with toji, your tongue swirling against his. your bracelets jangled against your wrist as you tugged on his soft locs, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you did so. “slow down toji, s’no rush,” you mumbled against his lips, teeth biting down the tiniest bit on his bottom lip.

toji tried to distract himself by toying with your waist beads, but it just wasn’t working. between the two blunts you both shared, along with a couple sips of wine—courtesy of you, there was just no way you expected him to be in his right mind enough for him to go slow. “i don’t want to go slow though,” he groaned, grabbing a handful of your ass over your skirt.

you kissed your teeth, now pulling away from the pouting man. you pushed him down against the blanket you had crocheted yourself, your hands now resting on his pecs. “you’re so impatient you know that? need my pussy that bad hm?” you giggled cocking your head to the side. toji gulped, his eyes finding it hard to stay locked on yours. eye contact with you was always so intense.

“yes….yes i am impatient and yes i need your pussy that bad.”

you smiled at his words, now leaning down to give him a slow kiss. you kissed your way down his jaw, to his neck, and finally down his chest. “damn….you got this worked up over a little kissing?” you teased, cupping toji over his jeans, earning a deep groan from him. toji didn’t respond, instead he just gave you the finger, too fucked out already to even come up with a proper comeback.

toji hissed when he felt you finally undo the button to his jeans, his leaking dick now free from its confinements. “go slow m’feelin’ a little sensitive,” toji grumbled and all you did was laugh, taking his throbbing dick in your hands. you gave the tip a soft squeeze, licking your lips. “now you wanna go slow? that’s funny,” you snickered, bringing his dick to your mouth, suckling the tip softly.

you ran your tip along the underside of his dick, fighting the urge to laugh again when you felt toji buck his hips up. toji wanted so badly to just push your head down, but you had just gotten your hair done a few days prior and he’d hate to cause you any discomfort. it was your first time getting passion twists and he was absolutely enamored with the way you looked with them.

“deeper—please go deeper y/n,” toji finally lifted his head up, now making eye contact with you but he reallyyyyy wishes he hadn’t. the way you were looking at him with those low, red eyes; eyelashes fluttering shut each time you took more of him in your mouth had him wanting to bust right then and there. toji felt his face flush, cheeks burning hot at the way you looked at him like he was the most precious thing to ever grace this earth—which in his opinion he wasn’t, far from it honestly.

toji’s eyes rolled back when he felt his dick hit the back of your right throat. “mmph fuck yeah—that’s that shit,” he groaned, bringing his hand to rest on the crown of your head. he didn’t grip it or apply any pressure, he just sat there and let you do what do best—suck the soul outta him.

the wind began to pick up, giving toji’s flaming cheeks a nice breeze to cool off. you made him so…so…beside himself. i mean for god sakes you had him fucking in the middle of a field of flowers, blazed out of his mind—it’s safe to say the grip you had on him was the most annoying shit ever.

“keep sucking me like that baby, f-fuck, take it deeper. be a good girl and take it deeper f’me,” you listened without protest, taking the last few inches of him in your mouth. toji was beyond fucked out, praises flying past his lips left n right and it only egged you on to turn him into even bigger pile of mush than he already was.

you pulled off of his dick with lewd pop! now paying attention to his swollen balls. toji’s body jerked, his heavy hand gripping onto your shoulder. “w—hah! w-wait y/n,” toji hissed, his jaw clenching impossibly tight. you lifted your head up, puffing air through your cheeks.

“i’m sorry i—”

“just shush toji.”

you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand before crawling up toji’s body, your lower half hovering over his twitching dick. you pushed toji down gently by his shoulders, humming to yourself at just how damn good he looked beneath you.

“you’re fuckin’ unreal,” toji sounded damn near breathless as he said it, his chest puffing up with each deep breath. his hand reached up to tug down your olive green, cropped tube top; his rough hands immediately latching onto your breasts.

“you really mean that or you jus’ fucked up?” you knew he meant it with all his heart, you just wanted to hear him say it. you blindly reached for the end of your skirt, tugging the soft material up your thighs. just as you pressed your panty clad pussy against toji’s dick he whispered the three words ‘i mean it’ in your ear, his teeth nibbling at your lobe.

the words ‘i like you’ were sitting so heavy on his tongue but he just couldn’t find the courage to tell you how he felt.

toji—a grown ass thirty four year old man who’s literally served time in the slammer was scared to tell you, a twenty something year old woman who was the literal embodiment of a fawn how he felt about you. what a joke.

“what are you thinking about?” you spoke softly, running your thumb over the stubble on toji’s jaw. toji shook his head, bringing his rough hands to your petal soft love handles.

“s’nothin.”

“liar.”

“i said it’s nothing.”

your breath hitched, mouth dropping open slightly at the feeling of toji’s dick pressed against your bare pussy. he felt so hot and soft against you and toji could certainly say the same thing about you. with one harsh tug toji ripped your thong off, tossing the semi soaked material to the side. you rlly should’ve known better with that one—toji hates whenever things are in his way.

“you’re such a liar toji,” your laugh was breathless as you began to slowly grind your pussy against toji’s dick. he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, his brows furrowing in annoyance but mostly pleasure. he was already so close it was so fucking embarrassing. pre dripped from his throbbing tip and onto his clenching abs, creating an even bigger mess between the two of you.

toji bucked his up, puffing air through his cheeks to silently tell you he was more than ready for you. you gave him a small smile, your tooth gems glistening in the afternoon sun. “can i confess something toji?” you asked, lifting yourself up to balance your weight on your feet. you grabbed toji’s dick, swiping his tip between your folds before slowly inserting it.

you both gasped in unison, toji’s eyes fluttering shut at the warmth that enveloped his cock. “w-what do you need to confess you fu—hucking brat,” he growled, his fingernails digging in the soft flesh of your thighs. in one swift movement you sat all the down, toji’s balls now pressed snugly against your backside.

“i really, really like hanging out with you toji,” your voice was a little high pitched, rightfully so because you practically feel the trembling man below you in your stomach. you pressed your hands against toji’s chest, bouncing on his dick like your life depended on it.

you brushed a stray hair out of toji’s face, cradling his jaw in your palm that still smelled of the shea butter you applied before your outing. “you like hanging out with me too toji? you like me?” your tone was coming off a tad desperate but you could’ve cared less. toji’s adam’s apple bobbed, a pathetic whine bubbling in his throat.

“yes.”

“yes what?”

toji wrapped his arms around your waist, his feet planting into the ground before fucking up into you. “yes i fucking l-like you y/n, could you not—shit! fucking tell? jesus christ your pussy is so good,” toji couldn’t help the drool that slipped past his lips, it was impossible to keep his mouth shut at this point. your hands found themselves in toji’s hair, tugging roughly at the soft strands.

“i knew you did i just wanted to hear you say it. i like you too toji.”

i like you too toji.

toji halted his movements, his dick now in you to the hilt. you suddenly felt a warm sensation in your lower half and knew immediately that toji was in the process of cumming. you circled your hips as best as you could, milking him for all he was worth.

“hah f-fucking shit i can’t stop fucking cumminggg,” he groaned, burying his face in your sweet smelling neck; the scent of vanilla and caramel had him feeling more dizzy than he already was.

after giving toji a few minutes to catch his breath you sat up, his dick still sheathed inside of you. “look how messy,” you spread your lips, giving toji a mouthwatering view of your overly stuffed pussy. toji licked his lips, reaching over to down the rest of the wine that was in your abandoned glass.

“lemme clean you up.”

[yvnaura]

— stringless .lhs

enemies(?) w benefits!heeseung x f!reader

a/n: well here we go first lil drabble hehe

wc: 767

—

"you're fucking enjoying this, aren't you?" heeseung growled, absolutely ruining you every time his cock slipped back inside your dripping cunt. your hands were pinned against the mattress above your head by one of his, leaving your body fully exposed to him. your head fell back, letting out a moan you'd been trying so hard to hold back. "you say you hate me yet you love my cock so much that you keep coming back for more,"

you despised him but you couldn't deny just how good he made you feel. it embarrassed you just how easily he could get you riled up despite how angry he made you. you hated the way you found yourself wanting him, craving his touch. what made things worse was that he knew the effect he had on you, and that he wasn't afraid to use it against you.

he was relentless, degrading words slipping out every chance he got. your walls clenched around him at his words, pushing a groan past his lips at the tight sensation. "i wonder what your friends would think if they knew just how much of a slut you are for me, just how many times you've let me fuck this pretty pussy, yeah?"

“fuck you,” you glared at him, voice weak and shaky.

“already are, sweetheart,” he chuckled, clearly amused by your futile attempt to knock him down a peg. heeseung released your wrists, head dipping down to your chest. he took a nipple between hip lips, sucking and licking at the skin. your back arched against him, pushing your chest up against his mouth. your fingers carded through his hair, gripping and tugging at the dark strands.

“and you fucking love it,” you scoffed, taking a jab at the way he’s just as shameless as you are. “mmh, calling me at two in the morning, b-begging to come over– who’s really the whore here?”

“fuck yeah i do,” he’s admitting with zero hesitation, a smirk spreading across his face. glancing down, his gaze fixated on watching the way his cock disappeared within you. he pulled his lip between his teeth, small grunts slipping out with each thrust. the bed creaked beneath you, neither noticing the way the headboard slammed against the wall. “i mean– can you blame me? pussy’s so good, fuck,”

your newly freed hands found purchase on his shoulder and forearm, nails clawing at his skin harshly. subconsciously, you moved your hips in a way that changed the angle in which he pounded into you, allowing him to nail that spongy spot inside you that left you weak. you’re gasping out in pleasure, his name leaving your lips in a cry. your body was left reeling, the steadily growing pressure in your abdomen bordering its limit.

he was panting above you, eyes squeezed shut as he was trying his damnedest to not only keep his composure but stave off his rapidly approaching orgasm. sure, he may be an asshole, but your pleasure will always come above his own.

“f-fuck, hee! m’gonna—!” you were writhing under him, your moans turning into desperate whines as your body practically begged to be thrown over the edge.

“yeah? cum for me then,” he whispered with a cocky smile despite the fact that he was just as close as you were in that moment. his hand slipped between you, thumb starting to rub harsh circles into your clit. “cum on the cock you claim to hate so much,”

that was all it took. you were crying out his name, your entire body shuddering as your orgasm washed over you. your hands gripped at him like your life depended on it, the intensity leaving you breathless.

heeseung hissed out as your walls tightened down around him, the sensation all he needed to reach his own high. with one final thrust, he tensed up with a broken, choked moan as he came, filling you to the brim with his cum.

he remained still for a moment, catching his breath before slowly pulling himself from you. he stares, watching the way the mix of yours and his releases dripped out of your abused hole and onto the sheets beneath you. your chest was still heaving, trying to catch your breath after it all.

you were immediately tired, falling asleep within minutes while heeseung proceeded to get dressed and gather his things. almost as quickly as you fell asleep, he was headed toward the door.

that’s all it was between you. blowing off steam when you needed it, and neither of you thought it any different.

then why did he hesitate and look back before walking out?

[angelkhi]

Sevika x f!reader

rushed as fuck i'm not entirely happy with it and i actually don't know what it says okay bye. minors/men/ageless blogs dni or i'll fuck your mom 😘

your eyes are barely open yet they still focus on her, the way her body looms despite its distance, her own half hooded eyes intently watching the less than subtle motions of your fingers. she had disappeared for a few moments, riled you up and left you to stew in an uncomfortable heat and wet underwear. your whimper is quiet, high pitched as your fingers sink inside your wet cunt once again, focusing on her. on the way her chest rises and falls with each laboured breath, the way her stomach dips and her hips jut, catching nothing but air. Her surprisingly soft hands cover your own, an arm pressing into the mattress as she leans over you, lips nipping against your warming skin. that small bit of contact alone is enough to make your motions stutter, but only for a moment as she pushes her hand against yours, thrusting your fingers for you. 'baby d'you know how pretty you look right now.' her hand pushes against yours a little harder, delivering harsh mind numbing thrusts and you feel yourself clench down in your own fingers, body jolting, a languid whine spilling from your open lips. 'yeaah, this slutty pussy takes whatever i give her huh?' her words vibrate against your skin and you feel her smile as she sinks her teeth into you ever so slightly. She's mean with it, marking you up and moving at her pace, her teeth nipping at your stiff nipples and back up along your shoulders, small purple marks noting her path. your quiet whimpers turn to louder moans and your head tilts towards her, cheek resting against hers, mouth agape, a small, warm trickle of drool running from your chin into your neck. her chuckle is dark, low, and entirely comforting when it reverberates off of your skin. she makes quick work of running her tongue along the path, straight to the source. at first you think she's going to kiss you, but she doesn't. just brushes her tongue against your lips, her hot breaths mingling with your own, her eyes glinting mischievously. your own tongue flicks out, the wet muscle sliding over hers. it's a messy, obscene image, one you wish you could see. your broken moans grow muffled as you suckle on her tongue, your free hand unclenching from the sheets and grip at the band of her jeans. she indulges you for a little while, those icy eyes catching yours, a languid smirk on her lips as she pulls back. it's embarrassing to admit, that you can't get yourself off like she can, and she knows it. There's a frustrated edge to your whines as you try and emulate her movements, try and make yourself come. All the while she just watches, stomach flexing at each messy squelch, each shift of the light across your pretty wet thighs making her eyes gleam. 'need me to fuck you properly huh? can't fuck yourself as good as i can.' she kneels back on her heels for a moment, hands sliding across your hips and down your thighs, pulling your hand from where it draws lazy circles on your clit. her eyes meet yours, never leaving as she inspects the glistening, wrinkled fingertips in a debased display. she's quick to slide them into her mouth, tongue sliding over them, between them. She's suckling and savouring the taste, languid movements that shoot straight to your core. your hips flex and thrust against the air, searching for friction, gaze never leaving her, the quiet pop and guttural groan as she releases your fingers like music to your ears. her eyes dip to your glistening folds, spreading them open, watching your clit jump under the slightest touch, your weepy hole clenching and leaking. the pads of her fingers touch you everywhere but where you need her to, skimming the hood of your clit, sliding around your clenching cunt. you cry out, a frown etched onto your pretty face, one that makes her chuckle as she slides one, two fingers into the warm and waiting heat. god she feels so good, her slightly thicker fingers stretching you out just right. 'such a greedy fuckin cunt, god she's swallowin me baby.'

she hooks her fingers ever so slightly, that cocky smirk on her lips driving your hips against her. when she drops a quick swat your clit you're pretty sure not even the concentrated power of the sun could match the heat of your skin, ears buzzing, your clenching heat pulling her another groan and chuckle from her lips. you can't decide what you need the most, hands torn between rigid muscles along her abdomen, that trail of hair begging to be tugged, or her exposed tits, dark and pebbled for your attention. the soft curve of her calloused fingers, harsh thrusts against your gummy walls, palm open just for you to grind your aching clit on. she's a woman on a mission and you're pretty fucking sure that mission is to kill you. she shows no mercy when she pushes a hand against your lower stomach, not even an inkling when a particularly hard thrust goes to your head, your walls calming down on her, hands gripping at whatever they find first. when your eyes roll closed, she just chuckles, and you can imagine that proud ass smirk on her beautiful face. ‘thaaat's it baby, c'mon, come all over my fingers. fuck- so fuckin beautiful.’

—

she's gentle when she slides her fingers from your twitching hole, dirty when she licks them clean. she lays down next to you, softly brushing a few stray hairs out of your face, kissing your cheeks, your forehead, your nose and lips.  she tastes like her, but hints of you come through each time she brushes her tongue against yours. it's soft, unlike the needy exploration she'd allowed you earlier. her fingers brush against yours stomach, the ticklish touch stirring that quiet hum beneath your skin. she secures the harness with expert precision, her muscular body looming over you, the small trail of her on her stomach beaconing you closer. her hands find your hips again, all but dragging you to the edge of the mattress, the slight brush of smooth silicone over your sensitive nub making you shiver. 'we're not done yet pretty, c'mon, spread that needy pussy for me'

—

new year. i'm not getting railed physically or emotionally so there's nothing happy about it.

[rafesangelita]

♡ when you tell rafe you love him for the first time, he shows you just how much he reciprocates it back.

warnings: established relationship, super sweet fluff, making out, heavy petting, dry humping, first time together, soft sex, vanilla sex, sooo much praise, oral (f. receiving), guided masturbation, handjob, slight dirty talk, unprotected sex, pre-ejaculation (rafe couldn’t help himself), multiple orgasms

a/n: i don’t know if it’s the weather change but i’ve just been in a really soft mood as of lately :( i would appreciate it soooo much if you partook in this little poll here <3

wc: 2.0k

a few months may not be considered enough time to fall in love with someone, but with rafe? the feeling felt like it was overdue. especially during times like this, when his hands roamed your body and left a trail of burning desire in its wake. “r-rafe..” you couldn’t help the sound from leaving your lips when you felt just how hard he was in his jeans. “mmm— what’s wrong?” he pulled away, staring down at you as you nervously avoided his gaze.

eyebrows pinching together, a concerned expression took over your boyfriend’s features as he sat up, dragging you onto his lap as he did so. “hey, are you alright?” rafe took your hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. your heart soared at the little action, a smile gracing your lips as you nodded. “yes, it’s just.. i’m really happy with you. you’ve been so amazing to me and so romantic, and i love that— i love you.” rafe froze, his jaw clenching at your words.

sensing a shift in his demeanor, you felt a slight raise of panic as he blinked, his eyes flickering up at yours. “i’m sorry, it’s probably too soon—” you scrambled, suddenly feeling your cheeks heat in embarrassment. “what did you say?” rafe rested his hands on your hips, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “that it’s too soon—” you started, “no, before that.” rafe loved seeing how flustered he made you, the worried look on your face only making him ache for you even more.

“..that i love you?” rafe nodded, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you closer to his chest. “do you really?” he started trailing kisses down the curve of your neck to your shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut as he started dragging your hips up and down his lap. you whimpered at the friction, your arms wrapping around his neck as you reveled in the rough denim of his jeans grazing against your clothed clit. “yes, rafe, i love you.” you repeated, a groan rumbling from his chest.

rafe loved you long before you two started dating, so hearing those three simple words leave your mouth was enough to drive him crazy. “i love you too, more even, if that’s possible..” he whispered against your skin, your perfume intoxicating his senses. you sighed in relief, a gasp leaving your lips when rafe groped you through your dress. “been waiting for you to say that to me,” he spoke through kisses, “i would’ve said it first, but i didn’t wanna scare you away.”

you shook your head, hips still grinding against his. “scare me away?” you giggled, “yeah, right.” rafe laughed, pulling away only to admire you. he still couldn’t believe that you were his. apart of him felt undeserving of all of this, but you made it so easy for him to feel this way, he couldn’t imagine things being any different. eyes trailing down your chest, rafe swallowed thickly as his fingers slipped under your dress. “can i show you how much i love you?”

you took your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding softly as he slid your dress off, leaving you in nothing but the lingerie set you picked out just for him. “you’re so fucking pretty..” you shivered when rafe pulled the waistband of your panties, the material snapping against your skin. your fingers worked to get rafe out of his pants, the sound of his belt coming undone made butterflies erupt in your tummy. rafe took off his shirt, tossing the article of clothing in the corner.

despite seeing him shirtless a countless amount of times, it didn’t change the fact that you were ogling his muscles like it was first time all overs again when he first approached you at the beach some months ago. glistening gold skin, chiseled abs, and a prominent v-line? you were smitten from the start. rafe got up once you got his jeans unbuttoned, his hands taking yours as he had you sit on the edge of his bed. “see what you do to me?”

your eyes fell down to where he pulled the rest of his clothing off, your lips parting slightly when his length sprang up against his stomach. just when you thought he couldn’t be any more perfect, you stared wide eyed at the sight in front of you. wrapping a hand around your own, you gasped when he palmed himself, your skin meeting his. “the second i went up to you and you looked at me with those eyes of yours, all i could think about was this very moment.” rafe groaned.

you began stroking him, his eyebrows knitting together as his jaw went slack. your hand felt so much better than his by a million times. “yeah?” you teased, a shy smile gracing your features. rafe nodded, picking up the pace of your shared movements before resting his free hand on your shoulder. “f-fuck!” rafe pulled away with a grunt, his eyes growing dark as he zeroed in on your figure. you watched as he got on his knees before you, spreading your thighs open with a curse.

“shit, i need to taste you, babe..” he ran a thumb up your soaked cunt, “make you cum on my tongue.” you whimpered at his words, your chest rising and falling as he slid the lace material down your legs. you shuddered when he sat back to take the view in, his stomach caving in when he spread apart your glossy folds. “rafe..” you whined, feeling exposed as he reveled in the sight of your glistening slick shining under the dim light of his room.

rafe leaned down, pressing wet kisses to your inner thighs before locking them to his shoulders. taking a deep breath, your mouth fell open in a silent moan when you felt his tongue lick a stripe up your sticky center before meeting your needy clit. rafe circled his tongue around the sensitive bud, the sensation making you jolt in pleasure. “oh, my god!” you nearly shrieked when he kept repeating the action, your hips instinctively attempting to move away from his face.

“don’t run baby, i’m gonna take such good care of you..” he whispered against your flesh, splaying one of his hands across your tummy. being held in place while rafe ate you like a man starved had you absolutely hysterical. so much so, that rafe couldn’t help himself in letting one of your thighs go so he could stroke himself while bringing you closer to the edge. “so fucking perfect, i’ve dreamt of eating this pussy.” you cried out when his tongue slipped inside your entrance.

eyes fluttering closed, your hand came down to wrap around his fingers, a string of moans leaving your lips. rafe was determined to make you reach your peak, the slight trembling in your thighs being the telltale sign he needed to know you were going to cum soon. you babbled, your back arching off of the mattress when the band in your stomach snapped, a choked sob ripping itself from your throat. rafe let go of his cock, forcing your thighs to stay open.

you had tears running down your cheeks, the white hot pleasure blinding your vision. “rafe!” you screamed, sitting up on your elbows as you shook in his hold. rafe’s eyes flickered up to meet your gaze, the sight ingraining itself into his brain forever. teary eyes, plush lips, flushed skin, you were absolutely gorgeous like this. “you’re the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen.” the sound of rafe’s voice brought you out of your post-orgasm bliss, your hands pulling at his.

“please, i need you!” you cried, welcoming him between your legs where he took your lips in a searing kiss. you moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue, your eyebrows knitting in confusion when you felt something wet on your stomach. pulling away for a moment, you looked down, your eyes widening as rafe followed your gaze. “did you..” rafe groaned, beyond embarrassed at the mess coating his cock. “what the fuck?” he stammered, “i swear that’s never happened before.”

rafe couldn’t believe he cummed without having to be inside you. you cupped his face, shushing him as you wrapped your legs around his waist. while he was mortified at the fact, you thought it was the hottest thing ever. “s’okay.” you pecked his chin, moving up to his lips where he melted into your touch. “yeah?” he swallowed thickly, his length sliding between your folds. “yeah,” you nodded, “i just want you.” rafe moved his hand underneath your back, unclasping your bra.

cursing when your tits spilled out of the garment, rafe lined himself up with your entrance before thumbing your bottom lip. “i fucking love you.” was the last thing he said before filling you to the hilt, bottoming out with ease as he rested his forehead against yours. you stayed like this for a few moments, rafe interlacing his fingers with yours before pulling out and sliding back in again. nails digging into his skin, your voice shook as you whispered a ‘i love you, i love you..’

rafe stroked the side of your face, admiring the way your eyes gleamed up at him, down to the curve of your nose, and the cupid’s bow of your lips. he was going to remember every single little detail about you so he could visualize it later in his dreams. “you feel so good, pretty girl,” he praised, “so soft and wet for me.” rafe’s thrusts were slow and long, the head of his cock kissing your cervix while you barely held yourself together. you couldn’t form a single thought, let alone a word.

the way you looked at rafe said everything he needed to know, a reassuring ‘shhh’ falling from his lips as your mouth opened and closed with a sentence sitting on the tip of your tongue. rafe kissed you, swallowing all the pretty sounds you made while he rocked into you, your heels digging into his back. you were in a daze, your vision growing fuzzy as you let rafe consume you. his moans were like music to your ears, the warmth of his skin making you feel whole.

to rafe this was so much more than just sex. this was real intimacy, the closeness, the pure, raw, unadultered display of emotion. he had never experienced anything like it. with you underneath him like this, taking him so fucking good, muttering his name like it was the only thing you had in that beautiful head of yours, he was in disbelief that you were able to find it in your heart to love someone like him. even though he couldn’t understand it, he’d never question it either.

“ray!” your scream snapped him out of his trance, his eyes finding yours as you practically thrashed against him, your second orgasm hitting you with more force than the first. feeling the way you clamped around his cock was otherworldly. you felt so fucking tight, all thoughts left his brain the second you whimpered a ‘please cum inside me..’ cumming twice in less than twenty minutes? you couldn’t be real.

“f-fuck are you sure?” his hips stuttered, his load threatening to fill you up any second now. you met his eyes, a silent plea for him to do what you asked. burying his face in the crook of your neck, he softly bit the flesh there as he stilled, a guttural groan leaving his throat as he painted your insides with his seed. you cradled the back of his head, pushing yourself impossibly closer to him as the hot ropes of his cum filled you up.

still going through the aftershocks of your previous orgasm, you couldn’t help but squeeze around his length, milking him for all he had before he littered kisses across your bare chest. running your manicured nails down his back, rafe stayed caging you between his arms, his thrusts coming to a slow stop. the only sounds in the room were your uneven breaths, both of you panting softly. “baby?” rafe sounded spent, his voice shaking ever so lightly.

you hummed, blinking slowly before looking down at his face. oh, he was so handsome. “did i already tell you i love you?”

[moonlight-prose]

taste me on your tongue

a/n: guess who's gonna go see deadpool and wolverine again. last night i was battling a migraine, but at around midnight it finally fucking disappeared. so i wrote a small drabble that i'd been dreaming about to make myself feel better. it's short and spicy and i'm actually obsessed with it.

summary: the taste of him became an addiction you couldn't ignore. especially when he was adamant on sharing it in multiple ways.

word count: 0.8k+

pairing: logan howlett x reader

warnings: semi-explicit, shotgunning, cigar taste, make out sessions, dry humping, his hand makes a pretty necklace, good girl usage, logan is messy with it.

His grip is loose on your neck—fingers splayed across soft skin he'd bite later. Heavy enough to keep you in place, remind you what he wanted, but with enough leeway for you to move. To slide into his lap with ease—hands braced on his leather clad shoulders. A smile painted across your heavenly face; one he tried to burn behind his eyelids in the hopes of replacing his nightmares with visions of you instead.

The cigar was set between his teeth, smoke curling past his lips that mumbled your name. He half expected you to remove it—toss it into the ash tray and leave it to smolder for the rest of the night. You surprised him by pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth. A pleased sigh escaped you when he pulled you closer—the evident bulge on his jeans gave enough information about what he wanted.

"Ain't you pretty tonight," he said, thumb running along your collarbone. "Get all dolled up for me baby?"

You nodded. "I wanted to meet you at the door."

"Mm." Whatever plans the two of you set flew out the front fucking window the second he saw you prancing towards him—a soft smile on your face and hearts practically reflecting in your eyes. "Prettiest fuckin' thing I've ever seen."

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip, hips shifting over his with a whine. And Logan felt his body beg him to move this along. To strip you of your clothes and drop them to the ground. He merely spread his thighs a bit wider, forcing your legs to stretch over his hips—your fingers a sharp dig through the layers he wore.

"I missed you today."

"Yeah?"

What he wouldn't give to see that look in your eyes every fucking morning. Soft enough to break his already damaged heart. Yet filled with enough love to put it back together.

"This place is empty without you Logan."

There'd never be anything sweeter than knowing he held a spot in your life. Days without him left you longing for his touch—his voice whispering in your ears. Logan felt like an anchor. A reminder that you belonged right there with him; you weren't lost in your place in the world when he existed to find you. Although whether you knew it or not—Logan felt the exact same about you.

"'M gonna try somethin'," he said, voice hoarse as he pictured what would come after this. "Hold still for me bub."

His calloused palm slid up your throat until he gripped your chin tight enough for your lips to part. Heat pooled in your stomach when he tugged you closer—his nose barely nudging against your cheek. You thought he'd kiss you like this. Still puffing on a cigar and lips tinged with the taste of it.

You almost wished he had.

The sight of his lips closing around the end, sucking in a mouthful of smoke, before he pulled it free caused your stomach to drop—the throbbing in between your legs suddenly unbearable. You wouldn't have been able to ignore it if you tried. And thankfully Logan was always adamant on giving your body the attention it needed.

The attention he claimed you deserved.

Pushing your cheeks together, he brushed his lips over yours in a kiss. A whimper climbed its way up your throat and nearly broke free. If it weren't for the smoke he blew into your open mouth—the taste of his cigar now a part of your sharp intake of breath.

"That's a good fuckin' girl," he groaned.

Giving you no chance to respond, his lips clashed against yours in a messy kiss. The smoke that remained now escaping between the two of you—disappearing into the air within seconds. His tongue licked across your teeth, spit a wet smear along your bottom lip. For the brief second he pulled away, shifting to cup the back of your neck, a string of saliva left the both of you connected.

You took it all. Each rough grunt and deep lick he gave you. And you met him with soft sighs and moans of your own.

"Can I have another?" you asked against his cheek, hips starting a slow grind against his lap.

Logan's whole body jolted at the sound—his breath, a hot pant against the skin of your neck. He was lucky he didn't finish in his pants at your question. Yet before he could give you a straight answer, he was shoving the cigar back in his mouth—pulling in another long drag to gather as much smoke as possible.

How could he deny you something so sinful? When you asked like an angel.

"C'mere," he muttered around a mouthful of smoke. Careful to keep it from escaping.

You smiled, fingers tangling into his hair, and met him halfway for the kiss. Logan felt a piece of himself settle deep into your chest—forever now a part of you.

don't look at me okay. i just want him to blow smoke in my mouth.

[deepspacenova]

between the strokes of midnight

1500 words | new year's eve. flirting. fluff. first kiss.

Note: Just a little something while I get in my feels about how thankful I am for this little corner of the internet. Wishing everyone a peaceful and happy year ahead xx

"One hour 'til the countdown starts!"

Sylus rolls his eyes at the cheers and squeals that erupt through the room when the arbitrary announcement reverberates its way through the balloons and decorations that swath the hotel lobby. As if there isn't a device capable of tracking the passage of time in every pocket of the increasingly stifling room.

“Oh don't be such a grump. Even you must find some redeeming qualities about New Year's Eve."

The melody of that voice is an invisible string, trailing its softness along the shell of his ear before it tugs up the corners of his downturned lips. "Hm," he considers. "I guess it does end with explosions."

He turns to face you right as you stumble into him, the scent of the warm spice clinging to your hair curling around him when he frowns in the direction of the passerby who'd bumped their weight into yours. Pressing his palms into the back of your bare arms, he pulls you both back a few steps until you're closer to the wall and further from the chaos.

He watches laughter flicker through your eyes before he hears your soft giggle. "You know what I mean! The allure of it, the romance." Sylus raises his brow in amused confusion, eliciting an admonishing huff from your lips. "Don't tell me you've never taken advantage of telling some nameless beauty that she'll be the 'first thing on your to-do list' in the new year."

The incredulous sound that slips from his mouth is somewhere between a scoff and a guffaw. "Was that an insult, kitten? You think my romancing skills are so banal and cliché?"

"No, the opposite actually." Your face comes closer to his when you shift your weight to your toes and a small ember breathes to life where your palm connects with his chest. "It just seems like you'd have the perfect formula to make sure you ring in the new year with... a bang. And yet, you're avoiding the question," you tease, a gleam of mischief bounces off the apple of your cheek.

“I didn’t hear a question,” he replies. A shadow appears behind you and Sylus pauses to glare daggers at a vaguely familiar Hunter hesitantly approaching you from behind. By the time you turn around to see what has him distracted, your hopeful colleague is long gone.

When you turn back to face him, the sequined, silver ‘Happy New Year’ headband that crowns your updo bounces with the movement. “You’re telling me you’ve never kissed someone at midnight on New Year's Eve?”

Sylus hopes his casual shrug distracts you from the way his weight shifts from one leg to the other. “You know how I am about my investments, sweetie. And tying my luck to someone whose name I don't know for a whole year doesn't sound like a good one.”

The distant sound of his name seems to distort around the edges when he watches your bottom lip disappear behind your front teeth and your head shake. "Luck? You're the least superstitious businessman in the whole city. You literally only came here with me because you're trying to strike a deal. Try again."

His fingernail scratches at a piece of lint in the pocket of his charcoal trousers. And maybe it's the gold color of your dress that unexpectedly matches his tie. Maybe it's the two glasses of gin fizz already sending bubbles of air through his body. Or maybe the way you keep getting closer to him is interfering with the amount of oxygen making it to his brain. But the next words that stagger out of his mouth come a bit closer to the truth than he means them to.

"I just haven't liked anyone enough to make a commitment like that," he drawled. "Happy now, sweetie?"

Sylus thinks he sees surprise soften your eyes but when you open your mouth to respond, his name is called — this time clear and insistent and right behind him.

When his business for the night is finally concluded, you've melted into the crowd. No longer in the spot he left you.

You take another sip from your flute, watching the champagne swirl around like liquid starlight. The cityscape is on display before you, the windows from the buildings reflecting the fractured patterns of light that dance around you as impatient revelers set off bursts of fireworks a few minutes before the city's are meant to debut.

And though the balcony you stand on is largely empty — too cold to be hospitable for most — it still feels enchanting, as if nothing can siphon the magic from the space. 

"Had a feeling you'd be out here."

You startle as the rasp of Sylus' voice rouses you from your reverie, your hand flying to your chest to keep your heart from fluttering away. Smiling at him briefly, you turn your attention back to the performance of color around you.

"Didn't you hear our fiftieth reminder of the night?" he quips dryly. "Five minutes until the countdown."

Your brow lifts slightly. "I did. But I'm surprised you came out here to tell me, Mr. Cynical."

The snowflakes dust his face like kisses of frost, standing out against the dark fabric of his suit while melting into the strands of his silvery hair. When his body is close enough to heat the air around you and he leans an elbow against the railing, he sighs.

"Maybe I just need someone to explain it to me." He gestures to the city in front of them. "The 'allure' of this night, as you put it. The... romance." He leans toward you and watches your face intently, like your answer holds its own gravitational pull.

Seeing his sincerity, that he isn’t being sarcastic or facetious, you stare out at the skyline and start slowly. Drawing out your words as if speaking too quickly might break the spell. "It's not just the night itself. It's... the feeling. Time seems to, to hold its breath for a moment. There's this magic in the air and the world feels... softer somehow. That's the romance."

As you finish your thought, you shift your focus from the view in front of you back to him and you're struck simultaneously by the intent yet inscrutable expression on his face, as well as how striking and dear that face is.

You wait for him to break the strand of lightning that crackles between you, but he doesn't. He just stands there gliding his garnet gaze over your cheeks, your lips, your shoulders. Like a thread of silk, tangling your ribs and heart and lungs into knots until it's almost too hard for you to breathe.

"And there's this anticipation," you say, giving into the dizzying feeling. "Waiting for the stroke of midnight like it's a portal to something new. A chance to start something. It’s the belief that anything can happen." Your words trip over the gasp of air he steals. "And maybe it will."

You jerk in surprise when a shrill Ten!... Nine!... Eight!... Seven! buzzes its way across the balcony.

Never taking his eyes off you, Sylus takes a slow, deliberate step closer. "A chance to start something...” he considers, his voice low and velvety, the gin fizz on his breath painting the skin of your cheeks pink.

Six!... Five!... Four!

You frown in confusion when he reaches out and plucks the flute out of your hand, carelessly disposing of the glass on the railing behind him. His gaze drops to your lips, a flicker of hunger in his eyes.

"Three!… Two!… One!… Happy New Year!"

He surges forward and catches your lips in his. Your pulse quickens, the world outside blurring into a backdrop of lights and fireworks. Each explosion and pop harmonizes with the fizzing heat that's crackling through you every time he lets your lips go and recaptures them at a new angle.

You don't remember how the strands of his hair slither their way between your fingers, or how the softness of your thigh comes to hug the hard ridge of his hip, or how the inside of his forearm becomes a band that slots you so tightly into him, you can feel his shirt buttons branding your chest, your diaphragm, your navel.

All you know is the intoxicating taste of his tongue. The vibration of his groan.

All you know is the rhythmic sound of your panting. The heat of his fingers and then his mouth stamping their prints into your cheek and jaw.

All you know is that the strokes of midnight seem to suspend you both in that moment in time.

[ridingtorohan]

Moments of the Tulpar crew experiencing Hanahaki disease for the reader (pre-crash)

𓇻 content warning. no spoilers for the game. swansea's is left ambiguous if it's romantic or platonic. receiver's choice. jimmy's whole section is a warning; denial, mention of self-mutilation (not depicted), possessiveness, manipulation and implied sexual frustration. jimmy's ending line is not about sexual assault, he's just manipulative.

Hanahaki Disease

A condition that causes the victims to cough up flowers or flower petals, due to either unrequited love or repressed love for another person.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Read it On AO3! _ Masterlist _ Join the taglist _ Ask box

Yellow Chrysanthemum- a deep love that cannot be spoken.

"You have your space legs," Curly says, voice a low rumble in his chest. His hand smooths over your shoulder, feeling the shift of muscle. Through the flightsuit, he could feel the rumble of your laughter.

"Six times the charm, right?" You smile with the glint of your teeth, head tipped back to peer up at him. Warmth and roots lodge in his chest, like tiny tendrils of leaves crawling through him. Like being tickled from the inside, a radiated warmth that resonated through his limbs. He loved to look at your smile, how your expression lit up the whole room.

Curly remembered when the two of you were paired together, with you fresh out of training and new to travel. How queasy it made most people feel, even with the artificial gravity. He'd been the same.

Blue eyes dart low, watched as Daisuke threw a uno reverse down, giddy in his seat.

You shout back and reveal one of your own. The conversation devolved then to a bickering match and culminated in Daisuke's sulky expression as he scrounged around for a green.

"You should join us, Curly," you said, eyes back on him.

Stems lodged in his throat, petals curled against soft muscle. A bloomed flower, ripe under your attentive gaze. Everything inside him blossomed at your every word, fragile and wanting in his mouth.

"In a minute. Piloting duties." As he excused himself with a clearing of his throat, he reluctantly pulled away from your side, only to let his eyes linger on your side profile. How easy you interacted with the other Tulpar crewmembers; Anya and Daisuke especially.

Swansea grumbled in his seat and through some barbaric display of betrayal, threw down a stack of +4's on top of Daisuke's green before announcing the new colour (green). The pivotal horror only increased as you slapped your own on top, just for Daisuke to hurriedly slap through the deck. ("We don't even have enough cards!")

It's a gentle feeling; being in love like this. Feeling connected in more ways than a captain should. Than a captain legally ought to. Still, it reached up, through his body, like an ache that needed to be fulfilled. Eyes that always followed you; the attentive way he spoke to you. Every bone in his body whispered love, love, love. I love you.

Pilot duties was just an excuse. Safe from the rec hall, Curly raised a fist to his mouth as his chest heaved. A wet, sticky yellow flower fell from his mouth, devotion spelled out to the bone.

Curly doesn't hate you for this. He's lived long enough to cradle the emotions as they come, to take the small chances when he could get it. A captain's duties didn't extend to fraternization.

As he held the flower between his fingers, he couldn't fault you at all. Not when you smiled at him - like the crew-- like that. He didn't expect his love to be returned; loving you was enough. Even like this.

Honeysuckle- devoted love, whose entwined vines represent the difficulty to escape its grasp

The insufferable itching was the worst of it. Each swelled muscle, bulge under his veins; Jimmy has half a mind to claw into his own skin. Tear the flowers right out from him, bloody and whole.

He'd rather feel anything but this, this unfathomable twitchy lurch in his chest. How you made his skin clammy and pulse skittered. Half of the time he wanted to throttle you, the other portion involved throwing you against the wall and devouring you right there.

Because something about you demanded that he take, stake a claim on his person. Outside of Curly, you were the only one able to placate him, to have a backbone and withstand his hurled words.

He didn't expect this twitch in his body, the tension that rattled through him like a freight train. Jimmy, on all accounts of everyone he's ever been with, didn't do soft. He didn't do sweet.

With you, it felt like the best and worst of him was brought out. A willingness to scoff and turn the other way - however begrudgingly. The way his temper flared, quick to rise on the offense and defense.

Red, sickly petals fall from his mouth, stems and roots attached. He's aware of the damned disease; felt it in every rock of his body. Every time his arm so much as touched yours. The inescapable draw, the sway of the boat, the chasm that roared to life inside him.

They tore like a mother up his throat and no amount of scratches at his skin lessened the torment. You have him wrapped right around his finger, drowned him in a pool of your own making.

Jimmy all but hated you for it; hated your sympathetic frowns, the way you so easily acted with the nurse and Daisuke. He's imagined it many times, his fist clenched around your wrist, his mouth on yours. How hot you'd feel against his skin.

The way you turned your head, how your mouth moved so easily, focus rapt on Swansea over some bullshit. Holed up on the sofa, electronic board between you. A better student than Daisuke was supposed to be.

Jimmy's eyes darted over your expression, the way your nose moved when you breathed, the swallow of your throat. Under the simulated forest screen, you looked captivating. Forest light over your eyes that highlighted your cheekbones.

That familiar spasm resonated in his chest again, wet, hot and sickly, and he spat it out, threw the squashed pink and orange blossom in his fingers, roots slick with blood. All that left to the ground as he stomped ahead, hands planted on the back of the sofa.

"Sure, electronic work is all hoorah, but how 'bout I show you some real skills in the pilot's chair?"

He's definitely one to boast, and with the way your eyes turned up, it sent another tremor through his chest. Eyes narrowed, a challenge left your lips, his eyes quick to follow the motion.

Swansea scoffed with a sneer. But who cared about him or his opinions?

When you finally relented, the rattle in his chest intensified, that ache to touch reigning fierce. While Curly's presence deterred any advances Jimmy could make on you, he'd eventually get you right where he wanted you.

Forget-me-nots- the pain of loss and desire to hold onto memories and love

Psych evals weren't Anya's favourite task by any means, but it had been another aspect of her career. One that she chose, one that she'd keep choosing again and again. A step closer to the actual job she wanted; one with different stresses, different bosses. More stability.

For all that it was considered, one aspect that she liked most was to learn about you. How you perceived the depicted situation, how your lips pursed when you were in thought. How your leg shifted, how you once paced the room.

More than once, she'd been distracted by the lull of your voice, the stride of your steps, how your tendons moved beneath your flight suit.

"Good." She says, the word airy in her mouth.

When you smile at her, it is blinding, enough to make her eyes dart away, heart tender in her chest. With you, everything just so much ... less. Less frightful, less stress. Less constant noise in her head. She could breathe around you, bursting a garden for you in her lungs with each stolen glance.

For her, passing the flowers were easy. Mostly petals at first, loose and velvety to the touch. Then whole ones, beautiful and pristine, a testament to their circumstances.

She didn't feel drawn to you, so much as drawn around your orbit; like the Earth around the Sun. A star that burned bright in her eyes. She'd always preferred sunrises.

As the nurse, Anya has been expected to pick up on traits of her patients; learn their allergies, habits. How to better help them. Who helped the nurse? Who helped her when her heart galloped, cheeks a fire when she looked at you?

You were sweet - tender, when most others would look away.

It felt like a baptism by fire.

"That's a cool flower," you breathed out, when the silence lapsed between you.

She startled, hand to her mouth - but your eyes are distant, focused on the bottle she kept on her desk. Not that bottle was an apt term; a tall cup was more appropriate. Keeping a flower without roots was difficult; but forget-me-nots was simple. Easy. Swaddled in water, pretty blue petals frame the glass lip. A testament to her affection for you.

The end of her pen tapped against the clipboard. "Thank you."

Now, your eyes turn to her, lidded with approval and warmth. Her flower garden grows. "I never knew we were allowed to keep flowers here."

A smile lit up her face, immediate and without hesitation. Your approval, however small, meant the world to her. It filled her with a sense of satisfaction, of belonging. Of knowledge that she'd be safe and secure with you, as she always has been.

"It's a special case."

Eyes turn back, admiring the pristine petals. "Still petty cool though. Adds nice colour to the room."

She smiled and her chest hurt with the admiration and affection that ran through her. An intensity that swooped through her, fierce and devoted. "Thank you. I'll be sure to add more next time." She would; anything to have you keep coming back to her little corner of the world, to see your eyes linger, even if not on her.

"Sounds great."

You both turn as Daisuke poked his head in, grin wide on his face. "Hey, guys." Brown eyes dart to you with a pointed, "Curly was looking for you." You nod, fingers on your coat lining as you adjusted it. Anya tried not to focus on it.

"We'll continue this later?" You ask her.

Anya's eyes turn to the forget-me-not, alone and perfect. Even though psych evals weren't a choice, this was. And she'd always keep choosing you. "Yes."

Rue - fragrant flower that is used to ward off evil spirits, representing courage, repentance and healing

Feet step over the small, fragile petals littered over the ground. No matter how many times Swansea swept them up, they clung to his clothes and followed him. Even now, they cluttered his workspace, with one ground to paste around a bolt.

"Looks like a chicken was killed here," comes your voice. Swansea's mouth twitched, upper lip pursed as he doubled over his work. Wiring was delicate work, after all, and he had to correct the mess that his intern made before it affected anything.

Fortunately, he was able to rewire the grid for the time being.

"Shit's tough if a little flowers gets every inch of you knotted up," he answered, voice gruff as flowers tickled his throat. With a twist of his mouth, he coughed, and with the ease of a man whose been through this before, spat the dry buggers out and away from his workspace.

He could all but hear the shrug as you say, "Doesn't bother me."

As he set aside his tool, he leaned over for the spool of electrician's wire. Your knuckles met him, warm flesh against weathered hands as you pass it to him. "Thanks." As he turned away from you, he coughed again, each petal little more than a nuisance.

All the same, you hovered beside him, head leaned over his shoulder as he toiled away. There was something soothing and mundane about it, the way your eyes drifted over his hands, faded tan lines not yet gone.

"You want something or you just like babying my work?"

From his peripheral, Swansea could see the twitch of your lips, the wry wrinkle in your brow. How your eyes turned away, roamed over the assortment of metals he has strewn about over his work table, only to linger on the equally as vast array of pale yellow.

Telling him to see Anya about his 'condition' hadn't helped the last time you brought it up. Swansea had more than enough experience to believe that it'd be here to stay, to ruminate among the other seedlings left behind in his chest. This one festered longer than the others, almost soft and delicate. How he dealt with it was the same.

But you were different from the rest.

"You know me, always wanting to admire your work." There's that cheeky grin he knows and he snorts in amusement. Even when it was followed by a short cough, he turned his focus back on the wires. When that was sorted through, he leaned back in his chair, brow sweaty with exertion.

"Alright, get it off yer chest and tell me what's up."

There's that twitch of your head he knew so well, the cock of your mouth and the side-glance of your eyes. Even as you leaned against his workstation, hip to the edge, every side of you rang with familiarity. Cramped together on a ship for six hauls did that to people; it was easy to know their body language, their mannerisms.

Easy to love.

Swansea's head tipped back, lips quirked and brow shifted in a beckoning motion. With a sigh, as you always did, you began your tirade about your latest frustration. Jimmy was at it again, a string of months long frustration bubbled out. Cards up his sleeve - literally--, the snide remarks, the open hostility. A point of contention that Swansea knew all too well.

"Want me to sock him a new left cheekbone?" In response, you laughed, eyes shut tight as you doubled over. No holds barred, genuine and true to the bone.

A facet of you that Swansea always liked; you had been upfront from the get-go, earnest in your attempts to befriend the crew. In mapping out the ship, glad for Swansea's guidance as he gave you the grand tour. A genuity that he hadn't seen for a long time, let alone directed at him.

Most people scoffed at his age, dismissive of the years toiled away in labour, dedicated on one task to the next. Where the two of you may have butted heads, you always bounced back, prepared for the next go. It had reminded him of himself, when he was younger. Now, it just reminded him of you.

While you all too gleefully admonished him for the offer, he didn't rescind it. Because for all the things he admired in you, you fostered it in him too. A drive to be himself, to rebound after the goings get tough. Wakeup calls weren't as pleasant as your company, but for now he'd take what he could get.

Even if the flowers got in the way of it all.

Dahlia- representing sacrifice and endurance needed to thrive in harsh conditions as well as gratitude and commitment

His leg is stationary, twitching every so often against the table. Daisuke has already knocked over a few Sorry! pieces, not that he had much problem with that - Swansea was winning anyway.

The tv screen before you two was awash in a golden haze, a sun over a distant horizon, washing the sea in light. It's picturesque, letting him ruminate in the thoughts with a hazy feeling in his chest.

He's never quite been in love like this before, this upbeat, yawning, yearning chasm inside him. Where every touch gives him the jitters, where he just wants to wrap you up in his gangly arms and hold onto you forever.

He's never been in love where it aches, like flowers rooting in his blood. Out of everyone, he knows more than enough about the condition that saunters in his body; seen it enough times on his sisters. A hereditory predisposition, he somehow never grasped that he'd get it.

Not once did it ever feel wrong, like this was a burden. A phantom ache, it reached into his lungs and nestled there. He had seen the pink petals fall into his palms and he knew, 'this is love'. When he saw your face, felt his heart patter in his chest, he knew, 'this is love'.

Each time he opened his mouth, slid a packet of extra sweetener your way, he felt it. Just as he felt it now, resting low in his chest, stems of dahlias woven into his hair. Out of everything, he'll always be proud of it, of what you've given him. This life that throbs inside of him, the moments that never seem to pass.

Even though you've expressed concern whenever Daisuke coughed up a fresh one - whenever your shoulders so much as touched-- he was glad for it. Glad for how your leg shifted against his now, your arm all but crushing his. How you two are folded together, your eyes glued to the peaceful scene on the screen, while all Daisuke can think about is watching you.

How the light dances over your cheekbones, over your nose. How you nestle against him like you can't pry yourself away, thigh to thigh and shoulder to shoulder. As restless and ansty as he tended to be, he felt solid and complete right beside you.

"That is not what your book says," is what you say as your mouth twitched upwards, eyes crinkling at the corners as you look at him. Each glance has him grin and he felt like a kid again, one who learned how to draw again for the first time.

"It is so!" He chirped with a dramatic wave of the electrical book that Swansea had given him. "It is hella in here! Thomas Edison totally got the idea of the lightbulb from the flowers that wove around it!"

And you laugh, that sound that sent shivers right down to his bones and he grinned and echoed, unashamed of how he sounds, his heart and inner garden close to bursting.

"No way! I've read that book! He isn't even in there!" You smacked his shoulder and he doubled over, sides pressed to yours as he dramatically flourishes it closer.

"Is so!" He pointedly tapped his index finger to the paragraph he was on. As you squint through the dim light, he could already tell by your furrowed brow and rolled eyes that you had skimmed the page. Even as you jostled his shoulder, he laughed.

"Am I right or am I right?" He laughed.

"It's not in there!"

"It might as well be!"

Even as your laughter chorused together, he found himself all too eager to slide back up against you, the book propped up in his arm as he showed off the page. "...and he totally, radically, found purple petals. The end!" He concluded his paragraph. It was worth the elbow to the gut and the hard laughter. Because it was coming from you. It was all you.

"You said orange flowers last time!" You admonish, almost under your breath before you laugh, "But alright, go on then. Read the rest of it if you're so sure of it!" With a wide grin, he did, even when you rolled your eyes at his random embellishments, or when he completely derailed and started to rant about the invention of pizza.

For each moment that lingered between you two, it felt easy. It felt safe. Even when you gave up and grasped the book from his hands, when your knuckles touched and electricity wound under his skin, he knew it to be true.

As your hands drew out the flower bookmark he kept, half-squashed between the pages, he caught it as you set it down.

For every failure that he felt he cropped up in life, this certainly wasn't it; this was something made with love, with passion, with something that he had avidly searched for as he grew up.

When he tucked the flower into your hair, he listened to the ramble of your words as you scanned through the paragraphs - the proper ones-- and watched the light of the screen reflect across your eyes.

This is the feeling that Daisuke knew best; this burning, smoldering affection that rested inside his chest. This was as close as he'd get to feeling 'home' without returning to Earth, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

[teddybeartoji]

light flashes behind your window.

the clock ticks midnight.

yet another year falls just as heavily as the raindrops outside. they paint the pavement a darker shade of grey while the weeds that sprout from the cracks of the concrete bloom and flourish under the dark sky. it's not too bad. you, too, are still growing.

the door of your bedroom creaks open.

warm and dim – the only light in the room is coming the from behind your window; the lamp post stands tall and strong, ever-so unfazed by the rainfall. it's doing a good job.

he looks beautiful under any and every light.

"did you really think the dark room would deceive me, hm?"

roomie!suguru's voice is sweeter than ever. it's a trap.

you give him a quiet hum. "...maybe."

the lighting strikes and he sees the small smile on your lips. it's a bit shy, perhaps even a little nervous. it's his favourite.

suguru pushes inside, taking slow, measured steps until he's stood by your bed. for just a moment, he lets his eyes wander – laid there on your side, suguru thinks you just might be something out of a painting. your legs, your thighs, your thighs, your thighs. your comfy, cute pyjamas. the lip between your teeth and the intrigue swimming in your eyes. he can't get enough of you.

"were you hiding from me?"

teasing.

there's a grin on his face, too.

you give him another hum. "...maybe."

he clicks his tongue and a shiver runs down your spine.

excitement.

the silence is heavy, and the tension even heavier; if it were brighter in the room, you'd really get to see his pupils grow. if it were more quiet, he'd hear the way your heart thunders.

he places a palm next to your body and you feel the bed dip under his weight. you don't stop him, you don't do anything other than hold your breath. another palm on the other side of you, a knee against your thigh and so, slowly, oh, so slowly, he crawls on top of you like some beast, ready to devour its prey.

you bite down on the tip of your finger and suguru's eyes drop down to your mouth the second you do so. lightning flashes from byehind him, giving him the second he needs to take a picture of you with his keen eyes. there's an air of playfullness around you, the promiximity of the two of you injecting your veins with a certain type of adrenaline. it's a dangerous game your playing, the delicate line between friends and something more fading with every shared breath you take.

it's suguru's time to hum. to purr. to pull you in some more.

lighting.

"happy birthday, angel."

every letter is coated in honey, the syllabels sticking to his lips and you find yourself starving. itching for a treat.

you bite down onto your finger harder.

with the corners of your lips stretched back, almost far enough to touch your ears, you stare up at him like the little sin that you are. oh, but he, too, wants a taste. suguru's composure is crumbling at the sight of your mischievious grin, his body lowering closer to yours as his mind grows weaker.

he's so warm. he smells so good. you want to kiss him.

the tension tightens. it's hard to breathe.

you take your finger from your mouth and it takes effort for him to not look at it.

"thank you."

maybe he wants to kiss you, too.

your lips part with a witty comment stuck on the tip of your tongue but you choke on your own words when suguru leans forward and takes your finger into his mouth.

thunder.

teeth, sharp teeth. tongue, wet tongue.

your head tilts back, eyes glued to the scene unfolding before you.

he bites and you gasp.

his own grin stretches wider as he meets your gaze.

now, you really can't breathe.

you think about your salivas mixing together in his mouth. you think about how his thighs press up against yours as he hovers above you. you think about how good it all feels.

suguru feels you pawing at the hem of his shirt and pride blooms in his chest. he inches even lower with your finger still in his mouth, his lips wrapped around the digit like he's sucking on some candy. a treat.

lighting.

he's almost close enough for your noses to brush together when he lets you go.

when he lets you have your turn.

lips. finger. saliva.

a kiss of a kind.

thunder.