#have claws naturally... hm...

[trashytracktales]

Ma'am, I just found your profile and I'm in love with your writing. I would really like to make a request that you made (After McLaren's victory today I was inspired haha)

Could you please write a short one for Lando where he and his girlfriend enjoy the WCC celebration party so much that they don't even have time for themselves (not that it's a big deal for them), but in the next morning the reader wakes up feeling Lando half hard on her back, while they're spooning, so she decides to wake him up with a handjob. So one thing leads to another and they end up having a slow, intense and delicious morning sex.

(if you don't feel comfortable writing, please just ignore. I will totally understand)

Orange glow | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you so much for your support! Enjoy this one 🤍

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𐙚 summary ──── After McLaren wins the 2024 Constructors' Championship and Lando dominates the Abu Dhabi GP, the night is full of partying. But the real celebration happens in the morning, hidden between the sheets, and far away from the outside world.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, fluff & smut, descriptive language, unprotected sex, swearing, established relationship, mentions of alcohol and drinking, post-race tension, spooning, slow morning sex, shower sex, hyping each other up, reader tries to be funny towards the end, quick Lily Zneimer cameo.

𐙚 word count ──── 3.5k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 9, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── I literally have a list of requests piling up, but I had to jump on this one immediately after last night, oop. I'm a Ferrari girlie through and through, and I'm not going to get into the details of how many times I cried this season, however, I'm so proud of the McLaren boys, and everything they've accomplished. A season to remember for sure. Now let the horrors (winter break) begin 🥲👍🏻

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THE WEEKEND STARTED with a lot of pressure, even though the odds were in their favor. And it continued that way on Sunday, after Oscar's Turn 1 incident. Luckily, Lando's teammate had managed to claw his way back into the points by the end of the race. Lando, on the other hand, had been untouchable ever since the lights went out, his car gliding through each lap with precision and speed as if he was running on hopes and old dreams.

His girlfriend watched it all unfold from the garage, her heart constantly in her throat as every sector time flashed on the screens. When the checkered flag finally dropped, she could finally breathe, knowing how much Lando has been stressing about it, especially after the weekend in Qatar.

By the time the podium ceremony begins, the entire paddock is buzzing; she's absolutely sure that no place on Earth is ever as loud as the paddock when someone wins.

Tonight, it's her boy.

In the sea of radiant faces, Lando manages to spot her without any issues and, for a brief moment, their eyes meet. He raises the bottle in her direction, grinning mischievously, before pop it on the podium step and shaking it up, drenching his team principal and the two Ferraris from head to toe.

She laughs, her chest warm with so much pride and love.

After that, it takes Lando a couple of hours before he finally makes it back to her. Post-race duties pull him in a hundred different directions — sometimes simultaneously — media interviews, debriefs, and lots of photo sessions. But when he sees her waiting outside the McLaren hospitality suite, he breaks away from the crowd without hesitation.

“What's a pretty girl like you doing here, hm? You should've waited inside,” says Lando, his voice low, but full of warmth as he wraps his arms around his girlfriend.

He smells faintly of champagne and sweat that mixed with his perfume and natural scent, a heady blend that reminds her of everything he’s just achieved for both himself and his team. The adrenaline it's still floating in the air, and she can feel the buzz of it in the way he's touching her.

“I did,” she replies, looking up at him. “But it took forever, and I got bored.”

It doesn't take long for camera flashes to capture the moment, and Lando takes off his cap to cover their faces, as he leans in to steal a gentle kiss from her before heading back inside.

THE MUSIC IS pretty much deafening, and the lights are a kaleidoscope of neon orange. The celebrations continue into the night, while Lando is — oh, so shockingly — the life of the party, moving from one group to the next with a constant drink in hand, his laughter ringing melodious above the bass.

She stays close but lets him have the spotlight. This is his night, after all, and she wants him to enjoy every single moment. Still, Lando always finds ways to include her by dragging her onto the dance floor for a song, or pulling her into photos with the team, and brushing kisses against her temple as they weave through the crowd.

It gets tiring at times, so she chooses to disappear for a couple of minutes back at their table; a good opportunity to regain control over her breathing, and maybe down another shot. This time, she finds herself watching Lando moving anything but gracefully on the dance floor. He looks like he's yelling, while aggressively gesturing in Oscar's direction, the two of them laughing over something she can’t hear. The sight makes her chest tighten with affection, though. They both seem so carefree right now, so unburdened, and she realizes how rare that is. The season has been the longest ever, and it was filled with so much pressure and expectations. But tonight, all of that has melted away.

“Having fun?” she hears a soft voice from behind her, then her senses are invaded by a faint floral scent.

She turns in her seat to see Lily, her cheeks flushed from the heat, with her smile as contagious as ever.

“More than I expected,” she finally replies, returning the smile and raising her glass to take another sip. “It’s hard not to when I see them like that,” she adds, pointing at their boyfriends.

Lily laughs, nodding slowly. “On the way here, I overheard that they want to get a tattoo in Zak's honor.”

“Oh, fuck no.”

The two girls exchange a look, their eyes locking in a silent agreement. It's their cue to step in, take control, and save their boyfriends from their drunken selves.

It’s past three in the morning when the party starts to wind down. Lando finds her near the bar, his hair a tousled, curly mess and his shirt unbuttoned. He looks exhausted but genuinely happy and satisfied, his eyes bright with the lingering adrenaline of the night.

“Ready to head back, mon amour?” he asks in a broken French accent, slipping an arm around her waist.

She nods, leaning into him. “Thought they'd never wear you out.”

“Pff. FYI, I've got plenty of energy left,” he says determined, smirking down at his girlfriend and watching as her thin fingers button up his shirt.

She giggles, knowing it's not even close to the truth, “Of course you do.”

The ride back to their hotel is quiet, proving her that she was right to not believe him earlier. Lando rests his head against her shoulder, his hand holding hers, fingers intertwined on top of her lap. She can feel the tiredness creeping in, but her heart is still skipping a beat every time Lando brushes his thumb over her knuckles.

When they finally step into their room, he lets out a long sigh, kicking off his shoes and collapsing onto the bed.

“Fuuucking hell. I can't feel my toes, is that fucking normal?” he mumbles into the pillow.

She chuckles, sitting down beside him to take her heels off. “You just turned a two-syllable word into four, so you tell me. I could barely keep up with you, baby. I'm not surprised you're absolutely wrecked,” she admits, lowering herself over his back to give him a small kiss on the cheek.

He sighs, flipping his body the other way, looking up at her with a tired but content smile. “Totally worth it, though.”

She places another kiss, to his jaw this time, her fingers gently caressing his cheek. “I'm so proud of you, pretty boy. I hope you know that.”

Lando's eyes soften, and he reaches up to take her hand in his, letting it rest over his chest. “Couldn't have done a lot of things without you... You kept me sane this season.”

She shakes her head, but he squeezes her hand, his expression earnest. “I didn’t—”

“Baby, I mean it,” he interrupts her vehemently, “Thank you.”

They don’t talk much after that, the exhaustion of the night catching up to them both. Finally, when they change and slip properly under the blanket, they fall asleep together, the hum of the city below fading into the background.

THE EARLY SUN spills into the room, casting long shadows over the tangle of sheets. She stirs first, her senses awakening to the quiet hum of Lando's soft snoring. Usually, she would push him on the other side so she won't hear him anymore, but she knows how tired he was just a few hours ago.

His arm is slung loosely around her waist, holding her close to him as if she might disappear. She shifts slightly, and that’s when she feels him — it — a familiar pressure nestled against her ass, half-hard and stirring with his own slow wakefulness.

A small smile tugs at her lips as she stays still for a moment.

The rest of Lando's body is relaxed against hers, but even in his sleep, he responds to her presence, which makes her heart race. Carefully, she reaches back, her hand slipping under the waistband of his boxers. The moment her fingers curl around his cock, Lando lets out a soft, muffled groan, instinctively pressing closer. At that, he wakes slowly, the low sound rumbling in his chest as he tightens his grip around her waist.

“Mm... ‘morning, baby,” he greets her with a thick, rough voice, filled with sleep. However, there’s a teasing edge to it as he pushes his hips more intently into her hand.

“Good morning, champ,” she murmurs in a playful tone, her hand continuing its lazy strokes, rubbing the sensitive head of his cock in circles with her thumb.

He hisses, pressing his lips against the nape of her neck, his warm breath sending a shiver down her spine. “You waking me up like this just because I won?” mumbles Lando, his lips curling into a soft smirk against her skin.

She lets out a quiet chuckle, but doesn’t reply, focusing instead on the way he hardens fully in her small fist, the weight of him in her hand so familiar and thrilling.

“Fuck, I lose it when you touch me like that,” says Lando, fully woken up by now. “Feels so good, baby.”

Hearing that, she perfects her strokes, feeling the pre-cum coating the palm of her hand, smiling mischievously when she manages to pull another moan out of his mouth.

“Do you have to be somewhere today?” she finally asks.

Lando sighs in pleasure, his hips eager to move in the same rhythm as her hand, “Not until after lunch. Why?”

He knows where she's hinting with her innocent question, but he enjoys hearing her talk.

She laughs lightly, feeling his cock begin to throb slightly in her grip. “I just wanted to celebrate some more.”

Lando's hand slides down her body, instinctively, warm and purposeful, as he grips her thigh and drapes her leg over his hip.

“Alright then,” he whispers, his voice low and filled with a lazy, husky need.

Before she can speak again, he shifts behind her, freeing his throbbing cock and lining himself up, pressing into her in one slow, languid motion, thankful he has such easy access to her so early in the morning. Her breath catches in her throat, her hand clutching at the sheets as he fills her completely, the heat of him spreading through her like fire.

“Lando,” she breathes in sharply, her voice tinged with need, her ass pushing back against him.

Lando's arm tightens around her waist, pulling her even closer as he starts to move. His pace is slow, deliberate, each thrust a deep, measured push that sends shivers down her spine. The angle is perfect, his hips pressing against her as he drives into her from behind, her leg draped over his to open her up to him completely.

“Oh, god,” she moans, bringing her free hand to the back of Lando's head, lightly tugging at his hair.

“You always feel so good in the morning, baby—fuck,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against her shoulder as he moves. His free hand slides up her body, cupping her breast under the fabric of his shirt she's wearing, and teasing her nipple between his fingers. “So warm and ready for me, I could slip inside even in my sleep, hm?”

As a response, her head falls back against his chest, her hand continuing to thread through his hair as Lando buries his face in her neck. Each thrust is so agonizingly slow, almost testing her patience, but every single one is filled with a quiet intensity that steals the breath from her lungs. His hands are suddenly everywhere — cupping her breasts, brushing over her stomach, gripping her hips as he pulls her back against him with undeniable strength.

“Shit,” he murmurs against her skin, his voice low and reverent, “You make me so fucking hard,” Lando adds breathlessly. “So perfect around my cock every. Single. Time,” he accentuates the words with each thrust.

His sleepy voice sends a fresh wave of heat through her, her body trembling as she grips the sheets tighter, trying to hold on to the feeling of him fucking her like that. Too soon, their movements grow less coordinated as they both near the edge, their breaths coming faster, blending together in the quiet room.

“Lan…” she gasps, her voice breaking as his hand slides lower, his fingers finding her clit.

“Come on my cock, baby. I’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice rough with need as his fingers work in time with his slow, deep thrusts. “Let go for me.”

“Oh, fuck,” she cries out, her thighs wanting to press together in pleasure, but Lando's other hand holds her open for him, the slick sound of him pushing in and out of her pussy, an exquisite melody for his ears.

Soon enough, her body tenses, her moans turning into soft whimpers as she comes, her release washing over her in waves that leave her legs shaking. Lando follows moments later, his thrusts growing erratic before he stills inside her, his body shuddering as he presses himself as deep as he can.

They take a long moment to breathe, their bodies joined together. His hand brushes soothing circles over her stomach, his lips pressing lazy kisses to her shoulder and neck, before pulling the shirt over her head so he can feel her in his arms without any obstacles.

“You’re dangerous as hell when you wake me up like this,” he finally speaks, his voice raw.

She laughs, her body still humming with the aftershocks. “Are you complaining?”

“Not even a little,” he admits, pulling her closer and nuzzling into her neck, inhaling her scent.

They stay just like that for a while, making her wonder if Lando fell back asleep, but then he presses one more kiss to her shoulder, his lips lingering there as he shifts, pulling gently out of her. The instant emptiness draws a soft gasp from her, and they both feel the warmth of their shared release slipping between them, dampening the sheets beneath.

He lets out a quiet chuckle, his hand trailing down her thigh before slipping back between her legs. Slowly, his fingers press into her fucked out pussy, gathering as much cum as he can so he can push it back inside.

“God, you're so dirty, baby,” he murmurs against her ear, his voice a mix of affection and playful reprimand. “You should probably take a shower, I'm just saying.”

Her heart starts racing again at the sweet sensation of his fingers, but she doesn’t let him have the last word. She finally turns around in his arms, wanting to see his pretty face bathed in the orange glow of the morning. Her lips find his in a superficial kiss, as one of her hands wraps around his body, pressing firmly against the small of his back and pulling him closer. As their bodies press together, his cock rests between their stomachs, still half-hard and slick with the remnants of their orgasms.

She breaks the kiss just long enough to smirk up at him, her voice teasing as she murmurs, “Yeah? Look who’s talking.”

Lando groans, his head falling back against the pillow as he laughs softly. “Touché,” he whispers, his hands gripping her waist.

Before she can say anything else, he flips them over, pulling her on top of him with an effortless motion. She straddles his hips, her thighs pressing into his, her pussy pressing down on his length. They both exhale at the wet feeling between their bodies, but none of them dares to make another sudden move.

“I wanted to take you in the middle of the dance floor last night,” admits Lando, his hands sliding up to cup her hips, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin there.

“Why didn't you?” she counters, her voice playful as she leans down to kiss him again.

“You would've let me, wouldn't you? Fuck you where everyone can see how pretty you look with my cock inside you?”

She presses one more kiss to his lips, mostly to shut him up, “I'd let you fuck me anywhere you want, my love.”

Lando's fingers tighten around her waist, making her whimper against his jaw, “So fucking easy for me, baby. You're gonna end me one of these days.”

“Not today, though,” she exhales abruptly, fucking her hips onto Lando's length, with no intention other than teasing him.

“Behave,” he says softly, cupping the back of her head in his palm so he can pull her back into a sinful kiss.

They linger there for a while, the morning hues catching in the strands of his messy hair and the faint sheen of sweat on their skin. It’s warm, so intimate, and entirely theirs — a connection that no one can take away nor break.

Eventually, Lando lets out a mock-serious sigh, his hands sliding up her back, stopping roughly at her thighs to squeeze her. “Alright, gorgeous. Shower time. Before we ruin these sheets completely.”

She laughs, climbing off him and wincing slightly at the sticky mess between her thighs. He catches the movement and smirks, playfully slapping her ass as he sits up.

“Come on,” says Lando, taking her hand and pulling her towards the bathroom.

The shower is already steaming up when they step inside, the hot water cascading over their bodies. Lando's fingers are lazily tracing patterns on her back, hers tangling in his wet hair as they share languid kisses under the spray.

“Do you even know what you mean to me?” he whispers, his voice low and filled with adoration. His hands trail up her back, fingers tracing her curves, memorizing every inch of her, all over again. “What you do for me? God, I don't need anything else.”

Her cheeks warm, though whether from his words or the water, she isn’t sure. She tilts her head up, her smile soft and full of affection for him. “Lando, I’m just here for you. You’re the one out there doing the impossible every single day. My champion.”

He lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he presses his forehead against hers. “You're so sweet, love. But you know I'm not a champion yet, my team is.”

Her hands slide up his chest, fingers resting over his heart as she gazes at him, her voice steady and determined. “You are McLaren, Lan. You and Oscar, hold everything together. It's a great responsibility, and I've seen what it did to you this year. The good, the bad, and everything in between.”

For a moment, Lando goes silent, his eyes softening as he takes her in. The quiet between them is filled with the sound of the water, and everything he wants to say to her but can't. It'd be too soon, and he has a habit of letting his mouth loose when his emotions get the best of him.

She notices that, and she knows he's working on it, that's why she won't let the moment grow too serious, “Though, to be fair, Oscar has done you and McLaren a lot of favors this season, no?”

Lando’s startled laugh echoes off the tiled walls, and he pulls back to look at her, his grin wide and mischievous. “Oh, yeah? Is that what we’re doing now?”

Before she can respond, he presses her back against the cool tiles, his hands gripping her thighs as he lifts her slightly, her back arching under the contrast of the chilled surface and the hot water.

“Lando!” she gasps in surprise.

“You take that back,” he growls playfully, his lips capturing hers in a possessive kiss that knocks all the air out of her lungs.

Her laughter dissolves into a moan as he pushes into her again, slow and deep, filling her completely. Her legs wrap around his waist, anchoring herself against him as he pulls out all the way, only to slam back inside, setting a rhythm that’s somehow both lazy and desperate.

The shower fills with the sound of water splashing and the soft, breathless moans that escape her lips, her head falling back against the tiles as he buries his face in her neck. His hands grip her thighs harder, holding her steady as he thrusts deeper, each motion pulling gasps and cries from both of them.

“You saying Oscar’s better than me?” he teases, his voice strained but filled with humor.

“Maybe,” she jokes, breathing out sharply, her nails raking down his back as she arches into him. “But you’re doing a stellar job convincing me otherwise.”

Lando's laugh is low and breathless, turning into a groan as he quickens his pace.

For a lot of people, winning means lifting a trophy above their heads, but for him, it's the rhythm of their bodies moving together — a louder kind of triumph that manifests into delicious moans and whimpers.

It's the kind of podium he will never get tired of stepping on.

PREVIOUS LN⁴ ONE-SHOT

MASTERLIST

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© trashy track tales, 2024

[moonstruckme]

hello!

Could you maybe do poly!marauders x reader and the boys discovering she has a major praise kink!

It doesn’t have to be smutty or it can be whatever you think!!

(ps: you are such an amazing author and the way you write the marauders together and their personalities is impeccable 💋)

This was fun and funny, thanks for requesting!

cw: praise kink, suggestive ending (no smut)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Remus makes a soft hissing sound. “Is that how you always chop onions?” 

You look at him sideways. “With a knife? Yes.” 

“Don’t be cheeky,” he says, smiling. “You’re going to hurt yourself.” 

You look down at your cutting board, still chopping but now bemused. “I don’t plan on it.” 

James, who’s appeared over your shoulder, makes a similar sound, hissing through his teeth. “No, sweetheart.” He places his hand over yours on the handle of the knife, silently prompting you to stop. “Rem’s right, you’re going to lose the tips of your fingers.” 

You feel a tad defensive of your chopping skills. “I’ve managed to keep them all ‘til now. What am I doing wrong?” 

“Here, let me.” James eases the knife from your grip, squishing in alongside you in front of the cutting board and taking your onion. “See, you want to curl your fingers in a tiny bit so the knife skims off them. Like a claw.” 

You lean over, peering at his hand. “It looks hard to keep a grip like that.” 

“It takes a bit of practice,” he allows. James slices through the onion a few times with smooth, easy motions, then passes the knife back to you. “Give it a try.” 

You try to hold the onion the way he had, looking at James for approval. He taps your pinkie finger, getting you to curl that one a bit more, before smiling at you. 

“There you go. That’s good, now try cutting down your knuckles.” 

“This feels scarier than my way,” you admit, though you do as he says, skimming the knife down your knuckles and slicing through the onion slowly. 

“No, you’ve got it,” James praises. “That’s really good, angel. You’re a natural.” 

Your cheeks are starting to warm from all the compliments. “Thanks,” you say in a small voice. 

“Don’t go getting shy,” says Sirius, coming in to steal a dry pasta noodle from Remus. He bites down on it with a crack that makes James grimace. “You were so vocal about how you knew the proper way a minute ago.” 

“I still like my way better,” you say, recovering some. 

“Right, well do it this way for our peace of mind, would you?” James’ hand warms the small of your back as he watches you work. “You have very pretty fingers, and I don’t think I’m being too presumptuous in saying that we all like them too much to risk it. Plus, you’ve picked it up so quickly.” 

The heat from your face spreads lower. It’s all you can do to squeak out a meek “okay.” You’re grateful when James leaves to return to his own task. 

A minute later, Remus comes over to check that you’re doing what you’re supposed to. He hums approvingly. “Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hair. All the air in your lungs dries up. “Thank you, darling. That looks great.” 

“She learned from the best,” James quips. 

Remus hums and kisses his hair too before turning back to his work. It’s only a handful of seconds before they realize you’ve not replied. 

“Dove?” Remus looks at you. 

“Hm?” you hum tightly. 

“You alright?”

“Mhm.” 

James and Sirius have turned to look now, too. You keep your face downturned to the cutting board, but you can feel the weight of three curious stares on the back of your head. Sirius prowls over to you like a cat, taking you by the shoulders and turning you slowly. 

“Humor me for a moment?” he asks, smirking. “I want to test a theory.” 

You’re wound too tightly by this point to respond, his smug teasing pushing you to the edges of sanity. You barely have the wherewithal to set your knife down carefully behind you. 

Your boyfriend’s cold hands find your warm face, shit-eating grin only spreading as he takes his time feeling about your cheeks with his knuckles and fingers. Sirius isn’t always the most perceptive of your boyfriends, but unfortunately, humiliatingly, he’s the first to unravel this particular mystery. 

He asks smoothly, “Do you like it when we tell you how good you are, pretty girl?” 

You’re not sure if he can actually feel the flare of heat to your face at the words, but something about your expression must confirm it. Sirius laughs gleefully. 

“Awe, angel.” James comes over to wrap his arms around you from the side, also laughing. “I didn’t know we were winding you up when we talked like that. I was just trying to compliment what a quick learner you are.” 

“She is a quick learner,” Sirius says in a salacious tone. “You always follow instructions well, don’t you, gorgeous?” 

“Stop,” you plead, covering your face with your hands and forcing Sirius to move his. All three of your boyfriends snicker, James pressing a conciliatory kiss to your burning ear. “It’s not like it happens all the time, you’re just being so much right now. You can’t just call someone—call them—” 

“A good girl?” Remus asks you, and you don’t think he’s putting on a tone like Sirius is, you really don’t, but his regular voice is already so nearly pornographic that the heat in your core spreads anyway. 

“Right,” you say weakly. 

Remus chuckles. “I didn’t mean anything by it, sweetheart. Sorry if I put you in an…uncomfortable position.” 

“No, don’t be sorry.” Sirius is giddy, smugness dialed up to eleven. “This is a revelation. Just think what we could do with this. You’ve given us all a gift, babe.” 

“Oh, our poor girl,” James laughs when you try to hide your face in his shoulder. “Sirius is right, this is good! It’s always good for us to know what you like, right?” 

You’re too flustered to reply, but Remus agrees for you, humming contemplatively. 

“You know,” he says, “if I leave this to simmer for a while, we could make it up to you now, dove. I’d feel awful if I wound you up without giving you any payoff.” 

His tone implies he’s at least partly joking, but Sirius doesn’t take it that way. He has you all in the bedroom in thirty seconds flat, your chopping left to wait for your return. 

[letternotekisses]

overwatch men react to you doing the ‘fake bj prank’ 🫦

Reinhardt pulls an almost adorably curious face when you suddenly drop to your knees in front of him, his mouth open in a small ‘o’ that soon turns into an excited grin once he catches sight of you tying up your hair. His hand instinctively comes to his belt - his cock growing stiff and heavy within moments, although his joy deflates almost instantaneously when you stand back up after ‘finding’ your ‘lost’ hairpin. He covers himself with a nearby sofa cushion and waves you off when you giggle and ask why he’s blushing.

Cassidy immediately gets comfortable, he knows the drill. Stubs out his cigar as quick as a flash and all but slams his Peacekeeper on the table beside him. It’s only when he realises you’re actually reaching for something you’d ‘dropped’ on the floor and not ripping his belt off wildly with your teeth does he stand there like an absolute melon. Don’t even ask him about it because he’ll simply lower his hat in shame and mourn over the loss of his cigar. That was Cuban. But you both know he’d forgo many more just for the chance of your perfect lips around his thick cock.

Genji is actually surprisingly hard to prank. If you try to ‘drop’ something or go to pick something up directly in front of him he’s much too quick to do it for you. Always the gentleman, but it grew almost annoying being unknowingly outsmarted by him every time. You had to get real creative with it - kneeling low and close to fiddle with the loops of his trousers gets him spluttering and looking around wildly for someone in the halls, before you pat his thigh and rise with a smile, claiming the new belt you’d got him looks so nice on. He’s adorably confused for a minute, before he mentally vowed to get you back. Although, you fear he may not get the point of the prank because you definitely had the best orgasm of your life after he was done with you. Sigh it’s the little things.

Hanzo raises a brow to you when you slide smoothly to your knees, your hands bundling your hair up until it’s tied back neatly. His back is stiffening the moment any part of you grazes his thigh and he instinctively reaches out to smooth the stray hair that escaped your grasp, the other hand settling upon the button of his waistcoat until…you’re giggling? And he sits back with a small embarrassed huff at his eagerness, a blush settling high on his sharp cheekbones. You pepper kisses all over his face to make it up to him and his fickle pride, which only makes him flush darker. He won’t stay mad for long, but similar to his brother - he’ll plan on getting even. Usually in the form of overstimulating you until you’re teary-eyed and whining or not letting you cum at all :-)

Junkrat is tittering with excitement the moment you walk into the room, let alone your little prank. As soon as you even try to get near him he’s jumping your bones and growling some nasty shit in your ear - you should have known that his insatiable nature would interfere with this. Oh well, might as well indulge him, hm? You don’t even get your dues either - as he’s too busy shimmying your trousers down your hips so he can get his daily taste of that pretty little cunt you were hiding away from him for so long.

Reaper is…not really the type of man you’d like to prank, but who says you’re any type of normal. It’s why he likes you. He won’t even let you finish your little prank because he knew what you were playing at from the start. He thumbs your head with his clawed gauntlet, a growling laugh low in his chest as his heavy cock rests on your face, pulsing hotly against your skin. Hey - you got yourself into this, but service him well enough and he’ll let you cum this time. Maybe? Who knows. He did like your attempt though! You should try and prank him more often if this is the outcome.

Lucio almost has a heart attack when you get to your knees - he had a concert due in ten minutes! But his cock betrays his best interest when it twitches to life and with ashamed (but not rly) delight he goes to fiddle with his trousers only to find…you were licking your thumb and wiping a smudge off of him. The poor guy actually almost beats himself up about assuming what you’re down there for until you explain to him with little giggles between kisses. You have a little something planned after his concert to cheer him up anyways.

Baptiste is like the largest gentleman at heart, so when you even dare squat down to even try and prank him he’s manhandling you so he can eat your pussy first. It gets weirdly competitive when you try to insist on it (so you can perform your epic awesome prank) so now you’re just 69ing. Wrong method right execution? You can’t really find yourself too bothered with Baptiste’s talented tongue deep in your cunt and his cock buried down your throat. Later, maybe. A man who insists his woman cums comes first is a man. Period.

Lifeweaver is too sweet about it to the point it might rot your fucking teeth out. It almost pains you to prank him because you just wanna suck the soul out of him through his dick. He doesn’t even blink when you’re ducking between his legs, or dropping things on purpose because he’ll just fucking help you pick them up. It’s almost infuriating so you instead take your frustrations out on actually blowing him instead. Niran palms your cheek with hands softer than aloe, his cock bulging your cheek as you swallow him deeper. Curse him and his magical body. You just wanna lick him all over.

Sigma is an intelligent man. You know it, he knows it, the ants on the ceiling probably fucking know it. That being said - he was convinced he’d memorised all of your mannerisms completely. So when he pushed back from his desk to greet you and you immediately dropped to your knees, bundling your hair up, he was happy to make quick work of his slacks. He is both humbled and down-crested to find it was a prank. He bundles you into his lap, murmuring nothings to you in Dutch. It’s enough to convince you to make it up to him - to warm his long cock with your perfect cunt while he works. Perfect. Try not to squirm…too much.

Roadhog yeah that ain’t gonna work on him. Not only does he have a sixth sense for when you (or Rat) are up to mischief, he also knows that you know he much prefers your sweet little pussy to your mouth. He thinks it’s worthy of a little punishment. Nothing too big, just something to keep you walking funny for a few days. (Good luck.)

Ramattra is very much accustomed to your human oddities by now, he’s grown tolerant of you (dare I say fond) enough to be unbothered by whatever you do. Treat him like a giant climbing frame for all he cares, you couldn’t make a dent. He knows exactly what you’re up to, and only when you’re whining for a scrap of his attention does he give it to you. Poor, sweet little human, begging for him? He’ll give you exactly what you crave, but you must remember that you asked for this when the silicone of his cock is buried impossibly deep in your tiny cunt, his cold, metal fingers splayed across the small of your back as he tuts down at you. Squirm all you want, Ramattra insists on taking his time with you.

Mauga won’t let you get off that easy either. He watches you go down with a grin that could rival the sharks back at Samoa. Watching you come back up has that smile dropping and an almost evilly mischievous glint appear in his eyes that has your panties just a tiny bit wet. In retrospect it was a good idea to prank him. In truth, when he has his fat, veiny cock buried down your throat and his meaty fingers deep inside of your cunt? It was a great idea. 10/10. In fact you should do it again.

Doomfist knows something is up the moment you tie your hair up because usually he just holds it back for you while he fucks your fac—oh. He quirks a brow at your giggles, but it’s not long until you’re quickly silenced. He soon has you riding his thigh with an intense desperation in your eyes as he thumbs your lip, cooing mockingly at the wet spot on his expensive suit trousers from where he’d kept you there so long. You cum when he thinks you’ve made it up to him, which might be a while, considering how much Akande seemed to be enjoying it, his chest reverberating with every pleased rumble. You’d think twice again next time about pranking the leader of Talon. (Probably…not.)

Also, PSA, if you don’t like my work, block me! Please don’t be negative and leave hate where it’s not needed.

[inkdrinkerworld]

I have another Logan howlett x mutant!reader idea! I’ve been thinking nonstop about a reader with powers where they can control and create nature so like flowers, vines, leaves stuff like that. Reader and Logan are lying in bed and she asks him to take his claws out, he’s hésitent at first but she ultimately gets what she wants. She covers them in flowers and it’s just a really sweet moment <33

“Are you trying to tie me up?” Logan asks, all gruff and huffy as he feels a vine twisting around his ankle.

You raise your head from his chest, eyes bleary and filled with sleep. “Hm?” You look down to his ankle and giggle; it’s rough this early in the morning.

“Sorry, it happens sometimes.” Logan hums, pulling you closer to him making the vines climb higher.

“Seems like you do it when you’re happy, bub.”

You shrug, flicking your wrist so the vibe leaves his foot. “Why would I be happy?”

There’s too much adoration in your voice for Logan to take you seriously. Also the vine that was climbing his foot has now bloomed pretty flowers that lay on his foot.

“You’re too fucking much.” He kisses your forehead anyway, stubble tickling your face.

You lay quiet for a moment, the flowers and vines caressing his skin before you get an idea.

“Can you take out your claws, Lo?” You ask all sweet and pretty, the early morning light just peeking out over your shoulder so you look like an angel.

Logan feels dread pool in his chest. “You into more kinky shit than you said, doll?”

You roll your eyes and leave his bait, “No, wanna show you something.”

He looks worried, but you kiss the corner of his mouth and then his frown lines. “I promise you won’t hurt me, James.”

Logan extends his claws slowly, holding his hands away from you like they’ll move of their own accord and scratch you.

“Look,” there’s a smile on your face as he turns and watches more vines twirl and bloom around his claws- pretty orange, pink and yellow flowers covering the vines. “I think you look good with color.”

Logan is mesmerized by what you’re doing, his claws are sharp, lethal things yet these delicate flowers don’t even have a single nick on them.

They look almost gentle adorned so beautifully. You reach a finger to them and his breath hitches.

“I’m putting them away now,” you nod, letting your vines move off his hands first. Logan pulls you into his lap the second the flowers are gone. “Had fun?”

You shake your head as a grin spreads on your lips. You flick your wrist again and the flowers that had been blooming float up in the air and spin around you both before erupting into petal confetti.

Logan can’t fight his grin as you giggle, his lips finding yours when you calm down a bit.

[tapenbreak]

𖦹. “𝐏𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, 𝐖𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔?” — (𝐒𝐘𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐘)

𖦹. — 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. as they say, every innocent church boy has once been fucked by their cute friend in a bustling cafe, at least once—right? or something along the lines of that. 8.4k words. (unplanned.)

𖦹. — 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 . . . purest of people, male sydney who so stupidly thought this was merely meant to be a study session, dubious consent that slowly morphs into full-on yearning, established friendship, cock sucking, fingering, anal fucking all in the holiest of pretext to teach, manipulative, model student, male reader (amab) that really just means well, yeah. least, sydney thinks so while being bent in half.

𖦹. — 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬, doc?: “I think he was cute to begin with, but then he patted at his belly spouting some shit about how ‘warm’ it was after my pc shot his load inside and I’ve never needed anything more than to bend some bitch over in the cathedral they pray to.”

Although it may have been unfortunately irritating to some, actually, more like many, really—he’s always truthfully prided himself for his unwavering professionalism and unmatched dedication when it came to school itself. More notably, his unending studies that seemingly only keep on piling up like an intimidating mountain never meant to be ultimately finished.

Or perhaps, what he’s naturally grown more accustomed to for having blindly pursued it for the entire span of his youthful, blossoming life; the Temple’s dictating principles—the questionable need and obligation to importantly preserve his untainted being, virginity, to be more precise. Dutifully stray himself further from the tempting sin that is, well. . . the numerous activities of life itself, most of which his peers mindlessly participate in themselves. As though they could hope to pitifully understand the church boy’s stifling path towards the underlying answers he continuously seeks, strives forward in an unnerved will to earnestly discover.

See, there’s undeniably no need to try and somehow explain the sheer amount of efforts Sydney irrefutably puts in to eventually achieve his long-term goals, correct?

At least, he’s positively and oh, so naively thought so up till now. Ah, brother Jordan’s perpetually warned him of others that may possibly lead him astray, whether intentionally so or not. Stray, golden, strawberry blonde strand of hair delicately placed behind the curved tip of his heated ear, well-preserved lips discreetly pursued inwards into a thinly veiled frown because honestly—he’s confidently speculated of you as otherwise, hm. And weren’t you supposedly meant to be his sole salvation of sparkling light and reprieve from that terrible and horribly selfish town you both regrettably reside in?

Which, couldn’t be more wrong for that matter—could he? Foolishly and frustratingly so, all too trusting that he can sometimes be. Consistently mindful of the potential threats that lay at bay, promising utter defilement if given the chance to swiftly sink their claws and pearly canines in the tender flesh of the boy’s untouched being.

Particularly, not this time it seems—not with your overly distracting presence perfectly positioned in front of his calmly seated own.

If it were anyone else, certainly they would’ve predictably seen this coming way before he has so, but pristine innocence itself—has always been the initiate’s first and foremost, silly shortcoming, hasn’t it? Oh, pointlessly stupid, Sydney. . . It’s inherently your fault for happily sticking along to the deceptively beautiful place that is, the starving tiger’s drooling maw, yeah?

So, really—it’s merely natural for it to have somehow derailed the way it did. An absently made lie to falsely convince himself of such, that he’s indeed above the rest of this sickeningly pervasive town in return, isn’t he? Right??

Unlikely. For as the all too well-known saying allegedly goes; the excessively ambitious bird unreasonably flew close towards the infinitely scorching sun, right?

Hah—

“. . .What are you doing?” Curiously peering upwards from the neatly laid and spread sheets of papers he’s meticulously sorted atop the creaking, wooden table. Almost faltering in the instinctual, heated sigh that’s bound to solemnly come out of his usually quiet mouth as his shimmering gaze automatically locks with your. . . annoyingly bored one, apparently. Since, what’s the exact point to be pleasantly inquiring him with the delightful idea to silently study together in some bustling cafe stationed nearby if you, yourself—won’t even tentatively participate in your aforementioned suggestion, huh??

“Studying.” Poorly fabricated falsehood at most, he can effortlessly see through that. Straying eyes sluggishly evading his as if to secretly rid yourself from some misplaced guilt incessantly residing within your thudding chest. Though, swiftly recovering with a quipped, cheeky retort of your own soon after—as it is so expectantly common of you to do, yet still. . . can’t truly bring himself to be sincerely annoyed by that endearing antic of yours. “—and modestly admiring the view in front of me. I can’t do that?”

Hmph, that sole and insignificant compliment shouldn’t have suddenly brought forth a crimson flush to his cheeks, beautifully painted his complexion a deeper hue for your. . . ah, so stupidly childish, cherry lips to unabashedly grin back at in muted satisfaction for his lack of response. Ahah, pretty please—do get a grip on yourself, Sydney, before he’s indecently ruined you too!

Seriously. . . For a well renowned model student collectively respected by most at the establishment you two simultaneously attend—you’re ostensibly quite the sneaky trickster on multiple occasions, aren’t you? Especially towards him for some particular reason which, he hasn’t remotely registered as to why yet. Yes, he’s been somehow oblivious to your unmistakably evident flirting during all this incessantly wasted time because well, that’s how he’s been continuously raised to be, despite the strikingly opposite demeanour of his other parent, Sirris.

However, fine. The religious boy might as well reluctantly grant you this momentarily acquired victory for his infuriatingly stunned silence to eventually catch up to, someday. Arrogantly emboldened by that mind muddling smile you oh, so proudly wear amongst your enraptured features—further pushed towards the edge by the reasonable expectation that he’s bound to similarly allow you to selfishly step all over him as so many others do, but no. . . Not today, considering the weighted amount of importance he relentlessly dedicates to maintaining nearly perfect grades amidst his plentiful classes.

Merely an exception made for that one tiring, swimming course however, as athleticism and specifically, raw stamina has unluckily never been his main strong suit. Truly no need to embarrassingly reminisce upon the various moments he’s nearly drowned in the incessant, violent waves of water within the limited pool, helplessly fought for his life in that surely. . . dangerous area. At least, he nearly thinks of it so—unless, some other snickering students were the guilty culprits responsible of disrespectfully splashing loads of liquid in his unfortunate direction? Oh, that too.

Though, that harmless treatment seemingly ceased altogether the second you consequently stepped into his previously mundane life. Huh. An enigma, indeed. Must be what gaining a friend in your reclusive bubble similarly does, probably. Yes, probably. Unbeknownst to the agitated huffs and shrill shrieks delinquents ultimately make at the sheer sight of your figure constantly sticking to his blissfully ignorant side, y’know—like a true, amiable friend does, right?

“You said we’d only be coming here to study, but all you’ve been doing for the past hour is just. . . staring at me! Do I have something on my face? Is that it?? Or is it—really, really that amusing to poke fun at me, huh??” Stubbornly settled upon the illogical fact that this is unquestionably a ploy methodically thought out by yours truly, objectively intended to spur him in a state of constant nervousness and mumbling bashfulness around you. Well, that is to say, he’s not sparingly letting you off the hook this time, no!

Conclusively blind to the sudden thump! he’s sorely responsible for by—of course, hastily slamming the dusty cover of his used, worn book downwards, fiercely landing itself against the furniture’s now disorganized surface. And there he inevitably goes as per expected, apprehensively jumping in fright to his own undoing with a clumsy huff. Immediate jolt coursing throughout the entirety of his curved spine upwards before finally, nearly losing balance of his glassed frames delicately placed atop the curvature of his pointed nose.

Oh. Maybe he’s—uncontrollably lost his cool there, huh. Talk about being humiliatingly disruptive in an otherwise, intimately tranquil space solely reserved for relaxing and such. Fortunately, it seems you’ve mainly reserved a private space firstly for that, having feasibly anticipated that sudden, usually concealed temper of his.

“Ah. . . Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so loud. I’m just slightly confused and frustrated at the same time because you said you’d—we’d study together for once, and I was looking forward to it, you know?” Ultimately deciding upon awkwardly easing the persistent prickle within the all-too delicate curve of his bobbing throat or, is it his ears, maybe? Forsaken by how sheer embarrassment comes to muddle his aimless apologies, strains his well-placed, intentional words in a desperate attempt at making you understand that first and foremost—he genuinely cherishes the preciously made, quality time you both simultaneously spend together. No matter how futile or short-lived it may be in the face of. . . unavoidable external factors like the distinctly noisy school bell, yet there’s no such rule when it comes to that, especially outside of the school’s limited bounds.

Although, evidently—he only intends for that to be solely interpreted as a friend namely would because certainly. . . the insistent butterflies that wildly flutter within the depths of his tensed tummy, has his thumping heartbeat hurriedly beating against the cage of the flustered boy’s chest is—something most friends frequently experience when the other is decisively near, yes?

. . .Certainly so. There’d be no other explicit reason as to why—the initial shock at his spurred reaction is soon dampened by a slight snicker from your cunning mouth. My, do you actually find the irritated pout presently adorning his puckered lips all that funny, too?

“You have a lot to say on the matter, I see. It’s true, I did make you come here to study with me—but, don’t you think your way of studying is pretty inefficient, Syd?” Purely uninterested in whatever recent remarks he’s made up till and, oh my god—do you ever faithfully listen to him or merely play coy with the poor, naive initiates to your hearts content? Incidentally irked at how a hint of curiosity tentatively peeks forward at your unforeseen commentary, has his nose scrunched upwards in utter bewilderment.

Inefficient? Him?? To say, he’s notoriously prided himself on swiftly achieving far more of the Temple’s various duties and additionally, more than a few unmotivated members that garner no interest towards the establishment’s dedicated ambition. Unsurprisingly so, preferring to sluggishly dust at some messied rooms laid askew, here and there—which, largely ends in one carelessly dozing atop the tousled beds, even going so far as to set the unused broom aside like it’s particularly nothing!

“M-Me?? You think my method of studying is inefficient? How so? What’s unfulfilling about it?” Overwhelmingly astonished, perhaps more taken aback as to why you might necessarily think so considering his sticking-to-the-books methods he habitually executes with thought out grace. Still, can’t stubbornly deflect such a statement if the model student himself is the one lamentably pointing that out. . . .Is he really, though?

“Hm, let’s put it this way—what’s the point of studying if the methods used aren’t efficient and doesn’t aid in easing your brain into learning, huh? Like for example, what’s your second weakest subject in school again?” Thoughtful mind earnestly coming into focus at the subtle nudge of your teasing foot provokingly pressed against his crossed one beneath the low-end table as if to. . . ahah, temporarily catch him off guard, impatiently center the focus of his working brain onto you—as if, he isn’t doing that already. Sometimes, or more like the majority of it all, you truthfully do act like a petulant child eagerly begging for its parents unwavering attention.

And that, he’ll happily give forth to you if such is needed. Solely if you wistfully promise to do the same in return, of course—fair trade and all, regardless of the inborn selflessness he proudly possesses. Properly trimmed fingertips timidly curling inwards in mild embarrassment at having to carefully admit this aloud to you, of all people, despite already consciously knowing it yourself, too.

“Well, I mean—you know what it is, it’s. . . science, I suck at science. Despite my mom’s teachings, I just can’t seem to grasp the material properly no matter how hard I study. Maybe, I’m just really bad at it.” Alright, honestly. . . that little sore admission of his, did somewhat drain whatever lingering aspirations he potentially withheld earlier in hopes of truly understanding the inexplicably difficult basis of that confusing subject. Shoulders sorrowfully slumping downwards, resembling that of a—funnily enough, dejected little puppy that’s been meanly kicked by its owner or better put, crudely denied a sweetened treat for its lacking efforts.

“But, ah—you’re pretty good at science, aren’t you? In fact, you’re my mom’s favourite! She talks about you nonstop, all the time. To the point that it gets a lil’ bit annoying, though I can’t really complain, can I? That’s just how good of a student you are, after all!” And there it comes, as endlessly expected. . . an unspoken plea for your eventual needed aid that’ll be so nicely granted in due time, since—well, that’s exactly why you’ve generously brought him here, correct?

“. . .So, is it fine if you taught me instead? I feel like I’d understand it better if it came from your mouth. Your way of explaining is more comprehensible than my mom’s weird—you know, comparisons to. . . uhm, uh. . . sex, every time.” Merely articulating that singular, oh so dreadful word causes a pronounced shiver to noticeably make its way throughout the passage of his tensed spine. Yes, yes, it’s expectantly natural to participate in these sort of activities—that he’s exceptionally informed of. Even if briefly envisioning your normally unperturbed self in those indecent situations further stokes the burning ache in his groin like no tomorrow.

God, coming forth to visit the confession booth would serve him some good right now, wouldn’t it? Enough of that, however—alternatively wishing to concentrate upon the more pressing matter at hand as he meekly regards you with irresistible, puppy doe eyes from underneath the reflective rims of his glasses. Oh, oh. Surely, you wouldn’t have the stone cold heart to selfishly refuse him of such?

“Pretty please? I’ll think of a way to repay you, I promise! Swear! We could. . . ah, even do a pinky promise if you wanna, too?” Candidly clasping his palms together with a resounding slap!—an ushered and frantic request for you to explicitly accept as though, you’re his sole remaining hope. Which sort of is the case considering his lacking amount of friends, unfortunately so.

Idiot. Haven’t your parents ultimately taught you better than to credulously place your barren trust in a deceptively attractive boy? One whose glimmering eyes shamelessly ogles at his silken skin like he were a freshly ripe, juicy peach shortly prepared—prettily available for the taking? Yours, especially.

Don’t think so.

“Sure thing, I could do that for you. What kind of friend would I be if I couldn’t, anyway?” Nodding pleasantly in return to the uttered query and to say, he admittedly didn’t expect to necessarily get this far with you when taking into account your supposed habit of—however irritating it may be, to gleefully demand some sort of payment in exchange. As to what that may conceivably entail? That, he’s thoroughly uncertain of in the worst way possible, to be fully left in the shadowed, lurking dark like this. . . But, no way you’ll likely insist upon a suggested favour for something this straightforward, huh??

“Though, you know—“ Oh, never mind! Legitimately, what did he wholeheartedly assume to himself to begin with?? “My way of studying when it comes to particular subjects like science is. . . pretty specific. I’m just letting you know in case, cuz’ knowing you—you’d start squirming at the mere idea of it, alright?” Slight prickle of hesitation finding itself within the swelling of his held breath, wondering as to precisely what you may perhaps, be indirectly referring to for an added precaution to be meticulously placed beforehand. “—And just an important reminder that you specifically asked for this first. . .”

“So, don’t back out on me now, Sydney.”

“Huh? What do you mean by tha—“ Hitched breath immediately faltering in its wake, momentarily tipping backwards to then, clumsily land atop the cushioned beanbags squishy exterior with a sudden, delicate oomph! Fluttering lashes and eyes instinctively squeezing shut out of pure, utter reflex on his end from mostly, having wrongly anticipated something else altogether. No, no—it wasn’t a melting kiss, at all!—what’re you talking about? Nevertheless, please wilfully ignore the modest pucker of his peachy, expectant lips.

And for a supposedly fast-working brain, it fails to rightfully catch up to the salacious absurdity of your inexplicable gestures in time—accordingly process the unforeseen, present warmth of your lingering palm neatly settled along the creeping edge of his inner thigh. Affectionately smoothing over the ruffled material of his perfectly fitted trousers poorly concealing the natural curve of the flustered initiate’s slimmer legs.

“W-Wha. . . ? What’re you doing??” Like that’ll presently answer the mind boggling questions hastily swirling throughout the crowded turbulence of his psyche, somehow appease the searing, unbearable heat intimately dusting his blooming face so—ah, damn it. You’re unreasonably too close to his dearly cherished proximity, you know that? But, of course you would, as you’ve always been pleasantly considerate of his preferred need to retract away from other’s unwelcoming touches—grazing nearly too close for his supposed liking before he’s mentally keeling over like a screeching, hot boiling kettle. And here he is, similarly blazing in that same hysterical manner from the mere dizzying proximity you’re now both sharing amongst two boys, which. . . really shouldn’t be remotely happening, at the moment.

Yes, honestly speaking—even if he doesn’t like to presently face the evident cues on their own, he’s got a semblance of a rather. . . lewd vision curiously peeking through the tendrils of the blonde’s usually enclosed mind. Sorrowfully rearing its ugly head towards a blissfully ignorant alternative as if to mock the very delicate fabric your esteemed friendship is crucially built upon.

Ah, really!—now isn’t the appropriate time to be embarrassingly sporting a straining hard-on crudely presenting itself before your very eyes. Incessantly throbbing like an insistent reminder as to why you two cannot ever supposedly call one another, simply ‘friend’, either. Nor should the even more humiliating way your expanding pupils are coolly drawn towards its shape that’s poorly hidden underneath the slim material, be his ultimate undoing. Akin to how a drooling predator has seized its prey right beneath the inescapable grasp of its unrelenting claws.

Speaking of such, he does somewhat feel that way right now, timidly shrinking in face of your sheer silence or perhaps, it’s another one of those meddlesome ploys of yours he’s grown familiar with—to further mess with him till he’s inevitably become beet in the fullness of his cheeks. Mhm, surely. . . That’s all there is to it and nothing more.

Although, he’d be more surprised at the clinically made statement that spills forth from your lips soon after, however.

“What does it look like? I’m tutoring you, obviously.” Peering your head slightly to the side as if it weren’t blatantly obvious that you were indeed, purely teaching him how to do whatever this is—and not well. . . however else you can call the current position you forcibly have him in. Noticeably firm grasp atop the pervasive spreading of his open thighs resembling one of those—ah, uh—various videotapes his parent, Sirris, withholds in the back of their popular shop which shall not be named. No, he’d prefer not to reminisce upon its increasingly erotic nature at a consequent time like this one. So irritatingly indecent that he cannot hope to regard you wholly in your eyes, too. Y’know, how is he allegedly meant to do so, anyway??

“A-Are you??” As though, further questioning you twice might potentially snap him from this daze spreading itself amongst his brain tirelessly working overtime—solely intended to make sense of this, even if he’s struggling to keep up with it, himself. “Because I don’t think. . . ah, I really don’t think this is how you usually tutor people.”

“That’s because this isn’t conventional tutoring, Syd. I guess you’ve never done it before, then—since you look. . . . ahah, got that look on your face, again.” Almost tempted to meanly huff back in return for your sheer audacity to snicker in a situation such a this one, yet he stops himself in time. Merely due to the relaxing sound of your laughter discreetly echoing throughout the confidential cubicle you’ve solely reserved for the two of you. Which, ah. . . was it intended to be scandalously used like this from the initial start? Between two promising students supposedly meant to be quietly studying amidst the bustling cafe’s welcoming environment—instead, settled atop each other like the obscure, romance films the initiate secretly views in tranquil privacy?

Oh, gosh—seriously, he cannot take any more of this. And neither can the thumping, warming blood making its way downwards to the swollen tip of his cock, apparently.

“How is this remotely meant to help me understand the teachings of my mother again??” Helplessly craning his neck sideways in a futile attempt to maintain eye contact with yours truly, that is—if you’d oh, so generously give him the time of day to do so. Though, something else subtly inches at him that you’re probably far more interested in reenacting the next unclear footage that’ll present itself in his mom’s class or something along the lines of that.

“Didn’t you know? The body tends to remember better than the mind and you know, you’re pretty forgetful, yourself, at times. I’m just helping you, that’s all. So, be more grateful, will you?” Obviously, no one save for yourself would have a cheekily made up response ready for his reasonable inquiry. Nonetheless, the indistinguishable puff of an unfinished giggle that spilled out of his poorly sealed mouth, wasn’t necessarily done on purpose, either.

Such a shame, yes, that one cannot help but to be intimately pliable under the methodical ministrations of your. . . almost reverent fingertips—not the least bit hasty in your movements and instead, mindful in how your softened palms perfectly cup the surface of the initiate’s quivering thighs. Nor should it further fluster him due to the seamless nature, in which his perched legs presently find themselves hooked along the curvature of your reliable shoulders. Always secretly liked the feel of them, didn’t he? Though, not like he’ll ever outwardly admit it for the life of him—regardless of whichever gruelling trial the Temple dutifully presents before him.

Truly, he should’ve initially seen through your deceptive methods from the mere start, shouldn’t he? But, what is there to do when he’s received such a sheltered upbringing from the slightest second he’s been brought into this tainted world, to begin with? Foolishly taught with repeated chants that certainly many shall eventually come for his pleasurable innocence—beautifully witness it fester underneath caring hands. For the addictive way it prettily spills itself from between bitten lips, nudging teeth poorly serving its purpose by failing to stifle disastrously wanton moans is too nice of a sight, isn’t it?

Yet, by god—could he not have fully anticipated how right it sinfully feels to experience the slippery tip of your tongue tracing across previously untouched skin. Unsure whether to direct his busying hands upon the parting of his open lips in hopes of partially concealing the needy whines your surroundings shouldn’t be privy to pervertedly hearing, by chance. Or, to where your head currently resides and that is, comfortably nestled between quivering legs bound to buckle beneath the sheer weight of your dizzying actions. One precarious moment you’re swiftly chucking the hem of his pants down—and the next, you’re boldly laving the flattening surface of your. . . ah, ah—oh gosh, warm tongue amongst the tensed muscles of his fluttering tummy.

Although, not quite for long as it seems your prime focus descends below to where a pretty, weeping cock embarrassingly greets your line of sight in turn. Inwardly irritated at this stuttering heart of his, beating within the confines of his ribbed cage as your attentive gazes—his, being far more blurry, at this point. Especially, with his unfound glasses laid askew somewhere around here, after being carelessly knocked forth thanks to your tactic pouncing. Quite the gentleman that you can be, at certain times. If not purely acting like an unabashed horndog, which he’ll never verbally say so, but doesn’t mind it in the slightest. Not that it withholds much importance for the time being, not when you’re simply a feathered breath away from making actual contact with his inexperienced cock , and—. . .

Ah, wait! You’re going to make genuine contact with his. . . hah—riddled with sheer and absolute embarrassment to even be uttering that one out in the plains of his clouded mind.

“Y-You’re going to touch there?? You know that’s a dirty place, though—!” Maybe it was an incidental mistake on his part, for requesting that he have his protective and reassuring chastity belt removed, after all. Solely for all intended purposes, of course; that occasionally didn’t have to do with any sinning, no—not due to the crude heat pooling at the bottom of his tummy whenever glimpses of you, by chance—filtered through his distracting brain during solemn prayers. Definitely not.

And yet, still—he makes no sudden movement to personally stop you from doing so, despite the jolting whine that ceremoniously slips past from between bitten lips. Head lolling backwards with a heaved sigh at your experimental lapping of his dribbling tip as though to test the waters, somewhat. . . ? That, or more along the insistent fact that a flicker of relief briefly flashes throughout the frantic beating of his thudding chest, only to immediately still upon your pretty mouth perfectly suited to envelop his length whole. Unashamed in the way you’re practically shoving the, well. . . nicely slim girth of his virgin cock past uncharted lips which, he may or may not have sometimes, fantasized about in the private remnants of his mind. Albeit, at ill suited times whenever you’d linger in the welcoming nature of his timid presence. But, certainly not like this! Truthfully speaking, he had envisioned it to be far more romantic than—ah, your unending exploration of his now vulnerable body bared for your grateful eyes solely.

Yes, not with your admittedly. . . soft lips thoroughly swallowing him down to the hilt that the initiate’s instinctually registered the surface of your throat merely bumping against the leaking head of his cock. Unable to cease the magnetic pull of his expanding pupils drawn to where you’re presently settled—that is, pervasively sucking on his cock and perhaps, either unbothered by the copious smearing of his translucent pre-cum glistening along the puffiness of your lips or, blissfully ignorant of its sticky texture adorning the bottom half of your pleasing face. Unconsciously admire the slight flutter of your twitching eyelashes temporarily caressing along your heated cheeks in sheer, utter concentration dedicated to pleasuring him so. Plus you’re evidently taking delight in the accidental squeeze of his soft thighs pressed against your head—like a pair of warming earmuffs meant for yours to wear, even though it’s the comforting heat of his naked skin instead.

Ah, remarkably so, he must be progressively turning into a pervert himself from the abundant amount of time he’s spent his free days with you. To genuinely revere your debauched state as such, wishfully yearn to bear witness to more of you like this. Considering how he’s grown accustomed to an unperturbed version of yourself delicately fabricated in his pictured mind, untouched by the degeneracy that others around him similarly indulge in. In spite of that, however—there’s an almost gleeful joy to know you’re no exception, divine being that’s shockingly immune to temptation laid at your reaching fingertips.

And you do so boldly reach—in your confident manner that he’s now used to. Stubbornly refusing to relent with the noisy suckling of your slippery mouth enclosed around his inexperienced cock, more like you’re openly relishing in each and every whine that threatens to alert unsuspecting and ignorant customers nearby. Repeatedly tugging on each and every individual strand of your now thoroughly messied hair in a vain plea to at the very least, ease up on that. . . ah, warmth surrounding his sensitive tip, further guided towards the edge from those drawn out slurps!

Oh, that’d be a shame, yes. To be precariously caught in a lewd position like this, for all to see—innocent, ol’ church boy receiving such treatment from the adored model student known by all. Gosh, the inexplicably absurd thought has him pathetically quivering underneath your lips, importantly dedicated to have him shyly swipe a taste of the addictive nature that is, none other than melding sin itself. Because if that is so, the cradling heat of your head preciously nestled between the comfy embrace of his spread thighs. Intimate hold of your fist deliberately stroking along the veiny base of his pulsing length to make up for what your undeniably tight throat unfortunately cannot reach, all the while paying devoted attention to his puffs or rolling breath. Quiver of his puffy bottom lip accompanied by the slight shudder in furrowed, thin eyebrows and noticeably tightening of his neglected balls. Then, he’d graciously welcome it so, with open arms, again and again.

Oh, God and heavenly deities watching from above; please do forgive him so, for the disgraceful noises that are rolling off his stuck-out tongue, too.

Restlessly echoing the methodical scripture of the Bible’s commandments won’t conceivably make up for the erotic act he’s indulging in—and neither for the incoming approach of his release, teetering over the steep edge.

“W-Wait, please—I think, ah. . . My tummy feels all weird and hot inside, a-and I think I’m gon’ cum—I’m cumming—“ Breathlessly announcing beforehand, lest he rudely spilled the sticky mixture of your slippery saliva along with a heavy load of his seed upon your pristine face. Surely, that isn’t his proper intentions whatsoever nor an actual way of repaying you back for coating the entirety of his weeping cock in your wet spit.

But, like the sneaky prankster that you are, that he’s so often reprimanded in the desolate area of the library; you disappointingly retract yourself away from his abused cock in turn, letting it slip free with an audible squelch! and an even lewder pop! to noisily ring throughout the confines of your shared cubicle. Cruelly deprive him of such a well-deserved orgasm that was soon enough, at stake, within reach for his shivering frame to melt into—whine at in sheer protest from the distracting press of your thumb atop his swollen cock head oozing creamy pre for you to appreciatively tut down at.

“Sorry, wifey. You don’t get to cum yet, not till I’m finished prepping you up for the most important part of the lesson. Just a little more. . . —and I promise it’ll feel even better than before, alright?” Behold what you seamlessly do—softly caressing away at the almost spoiled, hidden part of him that was bound to irritatingly swipe at your dizzying hold along his weeping length, though you somehow shush him first for such—as if happily conscious of that predictable response. And he, in turn, cannot hope to go against you for it, either.

Also, wait a second there—did you just casually refer to him as ‘wifey’? Akin to how a husband would’ve ceremoniously called along after his beloved and cherished wife on a sunny afternoon so that she may fetch him a cup of brewed coffee. A seemingly trivial nickname withholding all the spilling adoration one might possess by chance.

However, before he can remotely register that salacious statement and let the lavish heat of his churning bloodstream traverse towards the tip of his ears, you do the honours of redirecting the devious and moist surface of your tongue downwards—below; a forbidden place that he hasn’t necessarily explored due to the overwhelming guilt that’d perturb him in his nonsensical dreams. Resounding squeak at the foreign sensation of something else, something besides the overly nervous pads of his fingertips circling around that flushed rim—worming its way through his previously sealed, puckered hole. Smoothly breaching past what shouldn’t have been disturbed to begin with and, ah—ohhh, that certainly feels. . . weird. Shamefully pleasurable, type of weird, he mentally admits.

“Y-You’re really, hah, pushing it—. . .” If that was supposedly intended to be read as some dignified scolding then, it certainly falls short when wracked between muted babbles. So like you, to reduce him to a pile of mush, that is. Experienced thumbs inching forward, nudging upon the squishy flesh—spreading his asscheeks apart much to his humiliated bearings, in further pursuit of burying yourself in its velvety warm insides. Hot, slippery tongue laving across clenching walls that immediately twitch at your intrusion of the sensitive bundle of nerves, leaving behind crescent marks etched in the softening skin that’s unused to such treatment.

Oh, holy, holy Father—is this what Heaven feels like when you’re warmly enveloped in its comfortable embrace? Because if so, please do not stop until I’ve succumbed to this sinful pleasure.

And Gods from above, forbid that you stretch this on any further then it needs to, maybe due to a cautious need that he fully enjoys himself—however, what he salaciously desires at the moment is for you to remove those fingers that reach further than his does—sinking in the warmth of his greedy hole hungrily sucking at the feel of your two digits. Oh, perish that meaningless thought, now you’ve seemingly allowed another to join in, scissoring at the exceptionally tight ring struggling to adjust to its sudden intrusion. Seamlessly allowing you to be granted a full view of slicked and wet insides, sticky strings of fluids predictably snapping away once you’ve deemed his untainted hole to be sufficiently loosened.

Loosened? That’s—. . . Speaking of the devil, of what will be the one to ‘loosen’ him or perhaps, better put; ‘stretch’ his quivering entrance dumbly clenching around absolutely nothing whatsoever—‘course unless you grant him the selfless permission to be the one to adorably choke around your pretty cock. Dizzyingly bear witness to its pulsating girth imprint itself within the smooth surface of his tummy, bulge at the repeated snap of your hips, hah—that wouldn’t be so bad.

So, you do so—wordlessly gazing in absent thought at the debauched sight you’ve aided in creating. Stray strands of strawberry blonde hair splayed across the softened surface. For the delicate elastic that once held those docile locks have now unraveled anew; such as is the same with those glimmering eyes that would similarly stare back in an absent flush, reduced to a melding pool that wants to swallow all that you allow it to.

Truly, resembling that of a meticulously drawn out masterpiece meant for its sole purpose to be hung in a sophisticatedly built museum, thoroughly admired for all to potentially see. But, no. . . However else, it seems you’ll be the one to intimately keep this ruined appearance of his, to your egoistic self. And for that, he doesn’t withhold any sort of complaints, no—none at all, really.

“You look nice like this. With your loose hair down like this, I mean.” Puffing out almost. . . shyly from between parted lips, straying eyes traversing downwards to where his are, too—that is, your tented bulge showcasing itself through rustling trousers. Silently cursing him for being the sole one to blame for your unusually heated state. Although, there’s a twinge of smugness that secretly peeks through concealed uncertainty for knowing that he’s irrefutably responsible for this. For the fact that your length is dribbling out copious amounts of sticky pre to stain your underwear sheer in a similar debauched manner, restlessly throbbing underneath the weight of his tentative palm placed atop it. So, apparently; even you do get shy, too. Under the necessary circumstances like this one.

“. . . It’s so warm.” Outwardly shuddering at your poorly stifled hiss that drawls past bitten lips meant to fuck, furrowed deepening in dwindling concentration from those explorative rubs of his. Unable to help himself, that is—since it’s far too addictive to feel its hot outline twitching along careful stroking, circling around your leaking tip like a soothing balm dedicated to temporarily satisfy your aching cock. Not for all that long, it supposedly seems and he’s not vocally protesting either.

“Fuck, why do you think that is exactly?” Hitched breath barely slipping from an open mouthed ‘o’ at your snuffed annoyance, for it is so unlike you to be using such crass language to begin with. Albeit, it seems he’s come to unfurl at the methodically placed platitudes you roll yourself in—like a lovingly formed gift adorning a pretty bow atop it all. Maybe greedy of him, to eagerly scratch away at the useless plastic paper he bears no interest in and instead, peer in awe at the tainted sin that greets the church boy in turn.

And for that—he holds no particular answer because he does indeed know as to why you’re churning a heated mess in the depths of your tummy, precariously straining against swiping fingertips that experimentally paw at your now loosened belt. Absently leave it to jingle and sprawl along the carpeted floor to then, let your impatient cock finally spring free from beneath its restricting confines. Ungraciously land atop the flat of his tensed stomach with an even lewder slap! to stain its softness with a milky trail of sticky pre-cum. Oh, wow. Certainly didn’t expect for it to be. . . so pleasurably appealing to gaze upon as though it’d just about taunt him to dip it inside his needy, begging hole.

“I won’t lie. . . You’re really asking for it, Syd. Either that, or you’re just dumb. Well, you sort of are—who’s the one that had to pick up after your spilled pieces again? Me, of course. But, you’ve gotta know by now it wasn’t out of mere kindness, right?” Spilling forth from between open maw before he’s gotten the allotted time to potentially gasp at in fraught surprise—immediately process the salacious announcement which he’s been inwardly craving for. Ah, will you do so? Be so generous to grant him the rare opportunity within cupped palms or perhaps, obsessive hands that pinch and prod at unmarked skin? “So, I ask you this; and I’ll only ask you this once.“

“Pretty please, dearest Sydney—will you allow me to fuck your pretty pink, dripping hole? Because either way, I really can’t fucking wait, right now.”

Hah, it shouldn’t be so indecently effective to the warmth pooling below—for your vocal request of his uttered consent. Truthfully, is there any genuine need to secretly inquire what’s so painfully evident?? Teeth nudging atop his puffy, bottom lip that hopelessly quivers in face of your seriousness regarding the rather. . . embarrassing prospect at hand, here.

“Please—. . .” Eventually drawls out from parted lips, trembling arms hastily hung over fluttering lashes that don’t dare to steal a glimpse from angled gaps. No, for he wordlessly fears that if he were to catch a supposing glance of your strained expression within this very instant—the initiate wouldn’t be able to mutter another solemn prayer devoid of wanton desire, to be railed into the nearest surface below. Still, hung along a teetering thread that’s bound to disastrously snap under the guise of your undeterred focus. Urging him to mirror those spoken words in the filthiest manner possible considering his rare share of utilizing such disdainful vocabulary. But yet, nonetheless, he does between stuttering gasps. “—F. . . Fuck me.”

“That’s my good boy. I knew you had it in you after all, hm?” Unspoken sighs silently tumble forth from what supposedly must be your shared cubicle, but he cares no further at the mere idea of getting possibly caught in this form. Not with the dribbling tip of your eager cock lamentably dragging along the surface of his spread asscheeks solely presented for your intended amusement. Half lidded gaze inwardly pleading from under, at how each tentative nudge of your hot, red cock head momentarily knocks out each quivering breath out of him—deepens this burning urge to guide you in the intimate walls of his puckered hole.

Which, he so graciously does the honour of doing so by a shaky grasp held upon its throbbing girth. Tightening palm clumsily placed atop your hipbone for wordless support as you finally. . . finally—do continuously ease yourself in all at once, stretch the aching emptiness deep within his stirring guts that longed to be deliciously filled to the utter brim.

“H-Hah—you’re tighter than I expected, but that’s okay.” Muttering from between ushered curses, wistfully cooing down at the glistening droplets of shiny tears that threatened to spill past the entire length of his crimson cheeks. Of course, not due to some unsuspecting pain supposedly coursing throughout the hefty and sudden stretch of his now thoroughly defiled hole—no, because that’s where you surely belong. Or so, he’s subconsciously deluded himself of such. Nestled deep in the warm softness of his drooling insides that so gleefully welcome your veiny girth, like a comforting flesh light preciously suited to be molded to yours truly. He’d ask for nothing else, truly.

Instinctually, his sweating hands delicately place themselves along the reassuring curvature of your shoulders which he oh, so does adore to often rely on in times like these. Yes, supposed encounter where you’re dizzyingly getting fucked full within an inch of your life, now that your drooling tip has nicely settled deep in the melding suckling of his clenching walls. And he possibly can’t help the mutual huffs of shuddering breaths that collectively fall forth from both of you—resembling that of those foolish students that like to sneak around the peaceful library he dutifully manages; one telltale hand down each other’s pants. Gosh, even thinking back on it now—embarrassingly knowing he’s no better than those pervasive harlots that noisily fuck in semi public places, if not; then unabashedly out in the grand open. Unable to hopelessly lay off one another’s greedy touches in the same manner that he presently is doing so, but. . . please, don’t take pitiful notice of that minor aspect.

This is what it’s like, is it not? Straining features furrowing deeper in a scrunched expression of unadulterated bliss—useless, little finger that he has at his disposal, to barely stifle the pleasured moans that’s bound to roll past firmly pursued lips. Something about the affectionate way you shush that teensy, disruptive method away with a mouthful of your cherry-perfect lips enclosing themselves around his digit. Because even if he secretly wishes it so, those trained eyes of yours won’t dare to momentarily stray away from that scarcely concealed note of wracked gratification painted along the heat of his face.

“Don’t run away from me, Syd. Tell me—I wanna see it, I wanna see your face when I’m properly inside you like this.” Considerably gentle despite the undeniable amount of control which you possess in this unbecoming position, practically folded in half by the slight hunch of your heaving back looming over his ragged figure. That is, ignoring the miniature distance that only noticeably shrinks with each of your practiced thrusts inside his greedy hole—not to mention, sloppy squelches! loudly ringing throughout the limited confines of the cafe’s walls—that he blearily hopes no passerby catches note of. Merely millimetres away from ineffectively bumping your foreheads together in a connected touch. “The way your eyelids flutter, shit. . . hah, your hole is clenching in on my dick like the perfect cock sleeve. Does it feel that nice to have someone’s cock inside you like this—with your best friend being balls deep inside your hole??”

“U-Uh huh—“ Obviously can’t hear you when he’s helplessly babbling revised prayers, as though that might erase the sheer depravity of this situation—excuse him of the unbridled enjoyment he’s partaking in. Ironic in its nature, considering the holy pendant formed into a pictured cross, loosely hooped around his neck and continuously bouncing due to the precise humps your fat cock has to so kindly offer him in return. One hand splayed atop his marked waist as if in an afterthought, something to hold onto lest he ceremoniously was guided to the nearest wall—thanks to your eager fucks, too. Bump his precious head against, which you’re softly cradling in additional carefulness.

Judging by the whiny begging uncontrollably escaping in response, something along the lines of ‘please, don’t stop’ and ‘feels so good’—ah, he cannot distinguish much when reduced to he’s a cock-drooling mess, tattered shell of his usually composed self.

Ah, talk about sickeningly intimate it is to be unbearably connected to one another like this. Irrefutably against the sheer prospect of cruelly pulling out and Gods, he honestly doesn’t want you to, either. Please, please. . . heavens from above, don’t dare to cease in the repeated slaps! of your balls taut with sticky seed—against the receptive spreading of his open thighs. Nor mind the bold movement seamlessly acted out on automatic, to desperately hook the length of his legs—definitely unused to this much, of course—along your waist in a silent plea or rather, ploy to messily keep up with the slight roll of your untiring hips. Forbidding you from so much as popping your oozing tip out before then, soon enough; you’re savagely ramming it deep inside once more, hissing at the cushioned nerves that greet your tingling head and so forth.

Utterly smitten is what he is, so much so that he doesn’t remotely take notice of your fist now loosely pumping at the neglected length of his quivering dick between slippery skin. Oh, oh—y’know, that’s far too cruel to be simultaneously stimulating both ends of his overly sensitive, tingling body! “Hah, you can’t—ah, suddenly do that!” Open mouth unconsciously falling forth at the constant press of your flattening palm along his glistening tip. Head falling backwards in which his entire curved spine follows along to, arching in a way he’d never have thought possible if it weren’t for your cock driving itself deep inside his squishy, warm walls.

Still, in a vain and pitiful effort to alert you of such—fingertips digging deeper in the delicate texture of your flesh, almost deep enough to draw spilling blood. Though, not his intention at all to instil searing pain in you whatsoever. Not at all, truthfully! It’s just. . . ah, it’s becoming increasingly clear that he’s nearing inevitable release due to your added pleasure inducing actions from both sides. Inefficiently peering up from below lidded lashes and stray pinches of your now thoroughly marked back to signal his eventual descent into adoring defilement.

“S-Slow. . . down—“ He hadn’t meant to meaninglessly scorn you like you had any shred of chance of doing so—but, it’s ultimately humiliating to feel the teetering edge of himself reaching his dreaded limit. Glassy eyes stupidly rolling back to meet pitched darkness once that sickeningly long coil in his stuffed tummy finally snaps. Pink tongue prettily sticking out for your cherished gaze to etch into focus all while slobbering over the added thumb you’ve generously lent to suckle upon—drool over and coat it in transparent spit as the first load of milky cum uncontrollably squirts out of his swollen slit. Crudely stains the momentarily pristine surface of his clenching tummy and even going forward, to drip amongst his slackened jaw.

Ultimately, he must certainly appear as a wracked mess before you with dripping globs of his dirty release adorning the entirety of his upper body. Heaving chest puffing at each ragged gasp that crawls out of his sore throat from the sheer muddled consciousness he’s presently bearing, at the moment. Clutching onto the remaining familiarity there is and that merely happens, to be your observant self perched atop his bent figure.

But, that’s of no importance to you, is it now? For the entangled limbs you’ve now collectively fallen into—a heaping thread preciously formed from him to you, there’s no other way you would’ve gone about it, after all.

Here and now, he’s acknowledged it, too, himself—whether the Temple allows it or not, the distinct reverence in your eyes and the unspoken bond shared amongst you two. Uncaring for how twisted it may be in the critical eyes of his worshipped religion, the shocked gasps that will surely follow at the discovered ignorance of the strict restraints placed upon oneself.

Even if you haven’t properly spilled your seed in him yet, the mark has been done—effect irreversibly washing on his cracked perception. Since you’ve laid your claim, staked the original urge you’ve been meaning to this whole, extended time. Beared witness to the melded fluids you’re now licking along in renewed affection, brought upwards at his petulant tugs for your returned proximity near his own. Yes, he does indeed know it so and evidently, so do you.

And honestly, he doesn’t wish to let go of your warming skin closely held against his own anytime soon, either.

[msbyslilbimbo]

wolf!shidou who curls his teeth into the biggest smirk ever as bunny!reader and bunny!sae go at it.

he sees your little tail twitch while sae has you bouncing on his lap, his hands on your hips while you bounce up and down on his length. nails dig into the meat of your muscle while your hands rest on sae’s shoulders, grounding yourself in midst of your pleasure. your ears are down, completely indulging in the cock inside of you and the man giving it to you.

so naturally, when shidou lets out a whistle, your ears shoot up in panic and your head whips over your shoulder to look at him. you look terrified, you always do when shidou is around, and it makes his dick twitch; the way your eyes turn glassy and pretty as you peer at him is exhilarating. he can practically hear your heart pound in your heaving chest.

he can smell your arousal from the doorway.

“well what do i have here?” ryusei smirks. you whimper in fear of the wolf, but sae merely smacks your ass with a soft ‘didn’t say to stop, runt.’ “two needy little bunnies who couldn’t wait for me to give permission hm?”

“we don’t need your permission to hump, mutt,” sae grumbles, and you immediately tense up as shidou’s nose draws up your neck, licking a broad stripe in his wake. you quiver, and he slaps a massive palm down onto your tummy, making you jump and clench around sae’s cock. he jerks and his nose twitches, “she’s my girl first, your precious meat second. certainly aren’t going to ask for your permission to fuck her.”

his claws dig into the squishy meat of your belly, and you whine and lay your smaller hands on top of his for mercy, making shidou smirk. “what’re you doing to the poor girl, hmm? she’s absolutely trembling.” beefy hands trail up from your tummy and gently cupping your breasts, thumb stroking over your nipple and making you moan softly. “gotta be gentle with a little thing like her.”

“gentle?” sae snickers. “brat’s just terrified of you. you should hear how loud she squeals when my cocks fucking her nice and rough.”

you hear shidou chuckle and lean close to your ear, hot breath puffing against the shell. you shiver, tail twitching, and he sets up behind you, monstrous hands wandering up your sides and tits and belly while his hips rut against the squishiness of your ass, nudging your tail. you squeal in fear and your clit thumps, demanding attention from the big, bad wolf behind you.

"terrified? why, i'd never hurt a fly," he whispers, voice hushed and making you gasp. fingers trail to gently tug at the fluff of your tail, and you cry out in pain, the other hand caressing you darting between your legs to circle your clit hidden between sticky pussy lips. "i only want to make her feel good, ain't that right, angel?"

"you clench around me like that again, im gonna let him fuck that little ass of yours," sae threatens, digging his nails into your hips. "watch yourself. remember who you obey, little bunny."

the hand tormenting your little cotton tail shoots up to wrap around your throat and crane your head back, forcing you to look at shidou. "remember who can just gobble you up, little bunny," he snarls, teeth gritted close and once again, dangerously close to your face. the hand busy between your leg uses its nails to prod your clit, and you cry out in delighted fright.

he grins. sae bucks his hips up to slam into the spongy wall inside of you, pulling a moan out of your mouth and causing your eyes to cross.

"pretty bunny's close," shidou hums, pressing his lips to your cheek while he rubs your clit furiously. "i hear that little heart rate spiking. I feel that pretty tail twitching against my cock."

"if you cum now, im not protecting you from shidou."

"if you don't cum now, i'll tear you apart."

the signals in your brain cross as you cry out helplessly, body now being completely battered between two forces.

and if it weren't for the excitement brewing between your legs, you'd almost be convinced you were scared for their threats.

[ohimsummer]

LIFE LESSONS ft. BULLY! SATORU

— minors dni, hair pulling, one mention of biting, slight dumbification, bully! satoru x fem! reader, meandom! satoru, degradation (reader called a slut and a whore), gagging, possessiveness, spanking

wc 1k

Gojo claims a lot of things. That he’s the strongest, the hottest, the smartest, the most sought after, all things you believe are up for debate. He’s annoying is what he is. Loves to poke at you, literally and figuratively, and spout random shit just to get under your skin. So when Gojo’s in the middle of his daily harassment routine, and he growls “You’re mine” before walking away, you don’t take him seriously. You haven’t before, so why should you now?

“Stupid slut.,” Gojo jeers into your neck. “Did you think I was joking?”

You gag again around fingers bullying their way in your mouth, almost touching the back of your throat, the taste of yourself still lingering on them. Salty tears prick the corner of your eyes and spill over your lash line; you can feel the burning redness in your eyes, such a faint sensation compared to the sloppy drags of Gojo’s heavy cock in your cunt. He throws down another blow to your bruised ass, tinted red and decorated with dark blemishes and bite marks. Your pussy spasms around his length which continues to batter your velvety insides; Gojo’s hand jumps from your waist to your hair, grabbing a fistful to snatch your head level with his.

“Answer my fucking question.,” he grunts against your cheek, licking and nibbling at the tear-stained skin. “What, you thought I wasn’t serious?”

Of course you didn’t, who was Gojo to make a claim over you? Calling you his when he knows how much you can’t stand him? His words were mostly forgotten the second he was out of view and, just to be spiteful, you flirted with some random guy right in front of Gojo’s face the next day. You’re his? You’ll show him who you belong to.

A shaky whine dribbles out from your kiss-swollen lips as he rips another orgasm from you, walls convulsing around him as your eyes roll back and your juices sloppily squirt all over his pants. You can’t help admit you’re definitely eating your own words right now. Yeah, you’re really showing Satoru Gojo who you belong to by letting him have his way with you in your own dorm room.

“Wanna tell me who that fucking loser was, hm, princess?,” Gojo demands, low tone in your ear making your dripping walls flutter.

He pulls his fingers back to rest on your tongue; drool pools around the digits and messily leaks from the corners of your mouth.

“I-I don’t know hi–“

He drives forward a hard thrust, cockhead slamming your g-spot and you senselessly wail out a Satoru!

“Oh, so this was some kind of game?” Satoru shoves you into the mattress again. One hand between your shoulder blades and the other digging nails into the fatty flesh of your hips. He forces your back into an arch and readjusts his hips to fuck deliberate, hard strokes into your pussy, new angle allowing him to continue pummeling the sweet spot of your insides. You bury your face in one of your pillows in an effort to muffle the numerous moans tumbling from your lips, clawing at baby pink sheets now soaked with spit and cum. Drool smears against your face, and your tongue hangs over your bottom lip as each thrust propels you forward.

“What part of you’re. Mine,” You cry out as Gojo punctuates the words with two harsh slams of his hips, “did you not understand?”

He rolls his hips against your ass in short, quick thrusts, effectively grinding his cock into the spongy spot of your walls and you whimper in complaint as Gojo reaches around to rub at your clit. Fast, vicious circles on your soaked nub, shooting agonizing pleasure throughout your entire body as you mewl his name again. Shirt caught between his teeth, Gojo watches in awe at the way his dick easily disappears within you. Thin, messy strings of past orgasms coat his cock in a translucent sheen of white. Sticky and wet to form a natural lubricant so he can continue fucking your little hole.

“You think some asshole like that could ever get you to feel this way?” He grunts, pressure on your clit building as he grows even more angry with you. He curses, sinks his fangs into your neck before his lips brush over the mark. “You think I’d ever let them try?”

His voice is strained, thrusts growing uneven and you can tell he’s close. Gojo runs a hand up your sides, grazing the sheets, and laces his fingers with yours next to your head. He squeezes your hand, still thoroughly pounding into your creamy pussy, drinks in the desperate moans and whimpers of his name you can’t help but let out.

“Tell me you’re mine.,” he demands. “Shout it, so everyone can hear.”

“I’m yours.,” you pant immediately between sobs.

Gojo lands a smack on your ass. “Not loud enough.”

“ ‘M yours–!,” you can’t even fully get this one out before he’s slapping your raw behind for the second time.

“Louder.,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

And Gojo does it again, smacks your ass, makes you repeat just who you belong to until you’re screaming it out. Over the sound of his pelvis slamming against you, over the wet squelching of his dick ramming your cunt, over his final, drawn-out groan as you gush on his cock again, pussy milking him as Gojo marks your abused insides with his cum. Your legs go numb, limbs now limp on the bed and he hovers over your exhausted body. The ticklish feeling of featherlight kisses travels up your spine, up to your neck and over your warm, wet cheeks. Gojo gives your hand another firm squeeze, and then takes both hips in his hands to massage your skin under an unfamiliar, soft touch.

“Now, what did we learn?,” he hums and presses another kiss to the corner of your lips.

Your eyelids flutter open to peek at him, and you catch bright flecks of blue in the corner of your vision. Between heaved breaths, you pant out, “I’m…all…yours…”

You tense for a second as Gojo gives you another slap on the rear, though not nearly as rough as before. “That’s my girl.”

[mommynott]

Hii I don't know if you're still taking requests but plsss 🙏🙏 I need I need Dom!Theodore letting reader take control and ride him plsss absolutely need

Always taking requests sweet pea! Even if it takes me a little to get to them sometimes LOL

Anything for my sexy smut sluts 🫡💋

Theodore Nott x Reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, chars 18+, college au, dom!theo, bf!theo, dombf!theo, PIV, riding, rough sex, dirty talk, choking, hickies, nipple play, dom&sub, creampie

Plap- “You’re Plap- So Plap- good”-Plap plap- Theo groans through his plows, one hand wrapped around your throat while his darkened gaze burns into yours. Beads of sweat dripping down his forehead and torso.

“Mmm-…Theo, baby?”

Through your whiney little whimpers, you manage to choke up your words. But Theodore didn’t stop. Not in the least, his hand tightened around your neck as he started to smack kisses to your jaw. “Hm?…Yes, Amore?” He asks in a deep growl, his thrusts moving at a slower pace now.

You glided your head to the side, making your eyes lock together through your heavy breathing. “Can I…Can I go on top?” Questioning him, you bat your lashes up at the Italian. Showing your full submissive side while you wait for his answer. Unsure of how this could even go.

Theodore’s eyes flickered between yours for a moment, his silver-chained cross hanging right in your face before his lips curled into a sinister smirk. “Since you asked so…nicely, I’ll allow it.” His voice held a hint of danger to it, arousing nonetheless. His strong hands moved to your hips as he laid back, pulling you on top of him as he did.

“Ride the cum out of me. Drain my fucking balls. But don’t you dare think of stopping until I’ve finished, understood?”

Of course, even having the tiniest bit of control over Theo, he still showed his dominant and assertive nature that seemed to come naturally to him. “Mhmmm- Understood.” You whispered, your hips bucking against him as your hands found their way into your own silky hair.

His nails dug into your hips, pushing you down his massive shaft harder as he rocked you faster against him. “Fuck-…That’s it, Tesoro. Just like that.” Moans slip freely from your swollen lips, your eyes glossing over as you fight to keep them open.

Theodore’s lips find their way to your hardened nipples, sucking on them with a burning need, his nails clawing so hard into your hips that it seems to break the skin. This time, he switches it up from the back-and-forth movement, lifting you slightly and thrusting along with your rhythm.

“Bouncing on my -Cazzo….cock…like such a good fucking girl..”

He hisses from his throat against your perked nipple before taking it between his teeth. Making sure to leave his marks all over your breasts because again…This is Theodore fucking Nott we’re talking about here. Does he ever fully let you take control?

“Gods- I love that dick!” The moans escaping your lips only getting louder by the second, Theo’s face buried between your tits, lost in the blissful pleasure of you. “Yeah, you fuckin’ do…fuck!- Finish with me, amore. Don’t hold back.” He husked into your sensitive flesh.

No edging. No punishment. No waiting. Oh, you were fucking taking this. Not waiting a second longer, you let your orgasm hit, creamy juices flowing down onto Theo’s cock. Your moans turning into screams of pleasure just as you feel the slight twitching from his shaft.

Theo’s seed was spilling inside of your juicy cunt, practically overflowing you with the sticky mess. His own body convulsing with sheer pleasure as he growls lowly between your chest, all in the while smothering your tits with sloppy kisses.

“You’re too fuckin’ good…Such a sight to see with you on top of me…Can’t get enough of you, amore”

Hehehe I hope yall liked this lil Drabble of our beloved dom!theo

As always asks and requests are open smut sluts 💋

Divider pinned in my masterlist 🌙

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Now, I never played Persona 3 but the protagonist looks breedable. So The Persona 3 protagonist (the male one) investigating an haunted/creepy site only to meet an horny male werewolf reader who fucks them 🎃

Author's Note: Makoto truly is one of the hottest persona protags (possibly even one of the hottest characters in general). Not to mention both of his English VAs did a fantastic job! I could gush over Makoto all day…so I'm just going to let the smut to the talking now 😶‍🌫️

Pairings: Makoto Yuki x male reader

Warnings: Male werewolf!reader, dom/top!reader, paranormal investigator!Makoto, adult Makoto, sub/bottom!Makoto, dubcon, finger sucking, dry orgasms, premature ejaculation(?)

This was supposed to be an easy job for once. Another "haunted" old cabin, multiple eye witnesses and videos and pictures worth of "proof", only to end up being a hoax unintentionally created by some local kids. He's been there and done that, time and time again. So, this place should not be any different, right?

Well… as luck would have it, Makoto would finally encounter something paranormal — a real experience, unlike the majority of his previous calls.

That's how Makoto ended up here; bent over a desk with the air knocked from his lungs while something wet drips all over the back of his body.

Drool drips from your snarling mouth, pooling on the back of the human's shirt, while your cock drips all over the ass of his pants and slides down the sides. You keep one clawed hand on the back of the human's head, and the other on his waist to prevent him from escaping.

The scent of iron and dirt burns Makoto's nostrils, invading every deep inhale as he's just short of hyperventilating. You're obviously not any sort of spectre, nor spirit nor ghostly being—you're really more of a beast, though your features are still quite human in nature. The man's best guess is a werewolf. Whatever you are, he's seen enough to know that he doesn't want to stick around any longer.

Attempts at wiggling free don't go so well, only building up Makoto's frustration and yours. Silly as it may sound to think a beast can understand the human language, he decides to try it anyway. “What do you- hnngh… what do you want?!” he hisses, “Are you the one…causing trouble, scaring the locals?”

You almost want to laugh at that absurd question. Causing trouble, he says. “Me? Please, ask yourself who's the real troublemaker here; the dozens of humans trashing my house and surrounding woods, or me, the guy who's lived here for decades — long before that filth migrated in.” you growl. Ignorant, ignorant humans as always.

“If anyone here is a troublemaker, it's you–” your razor-like nails dig into Makoto's side, and he winces, glaring at you with the eye not covered by his hair. “walking in here with that sexy body of yours, having the audacity to bend over and pick things up and present that fine ass for me.”

The human's heart leaps within his chest, pounding away loudly while he grips the edge of the table harder. “Your job is to help people, yeah? You wanna help these people? Then…” you lean down, covering the human's body with your heat, and whisper in his ear; “…give me the relief I need to not be so fuckin' grumpy, maybe I'll let some of their idiotic actions slide, hm?”

Truly, Makoto should protest, or try to run, literally do anything to fight this situation, but he doesn't. For some reason, he feels like…like he wants to see where this goes.

When you yank his pants down and flip up his jacket, he doesn't stop you. When you rest your heavy, leaking cock in between his cheeks and groan like a perv, he's not disgusted by it. When you let go of his head and stuff your fingers in his mouth, his tongue dances in between the spaces of your digits.

It's a surprise to you too, when the smaller human man lifts his ass up, almost inviting you—giving you permission—to fuck him. And you're not about to pass up a cute slut like this.

Makoto's knees shake when you spit on his hole, giving him at least a tiny courtesy before you break his body with your cock. Your tip pushes incessantly at his entrance, adding slippery precum to it as you swipe your cock up and down, then finally slip the head in. The human flinches, nearly causing himself to choke on your fingers, but he recovers just fine and makes no signs of protest.

Soon enough, you're moving a few inches of your length in and out, enjoying the tightness around only a third of your dick. “Sho mush…sho big…” he slurs, unable to properly enunciate with your fingers keeping his mouth occupied. Little does he realize how big your full length is. You push a little more, and the human moans again, drool spilling out from the corners of his mouth while his ass stretches to accommodate the larger girth filling it up.

“Big, yeah? You think this is big, little guy? This ain't even halfway in yet~” you taunt, keeping a tight hold on his waist. At this point, you're confident that he can take plenty more without breaking yet, so you go a little harder until half of your dick is pumping in and out. “Mmm feel that? Now that is halfway in. Feels even better, right?”

“aAahAAAHhhNn–!! gHNH-!” Makoto spasms on the table, whining something unintelligible while his body twitches. Slightly concerned, you ask him what the hell that was all about, but he doesn't answer you. Frustrated, you remove your fingers from his mouth and yank his body up by his hair, forcing him to stand while you inspect the situation.

It only takes a second for you to notice the puddle of translucent white fluid dripping from the edge of the wooden table and onto the ground, with a matching fluid dribbling from Makoto's flushed dick.

“Goddamn– cummin' before me…I haven't even fucked you yet, little guy. Is it that good for you?” you laugh, pulling the human's head back so far that he's forced to look up at you, meeting your gaze with pink cheeks and cloudy eyes.

With a newfound confidence, and a newfound horniness, you decide that your little slut is more than ready to take it all in. Makoto makes a little noise at first, but when you bottom out and, finally, begin thrusting with intent, those noises turn into happy little moans and whimpers. The fucked out look on his face is proof enough that your fat cock is hitting the right places—filling his tummy with butterflies with every long drag against his walls.

Makoto holds onto your arms for dear life, taking your length like the good boy he is, while you rail him with enough force to knock him over, if you weren't holding his smaller body. “Ah-ah-ah-yes-yes-yes-!!” he stutters, smiling like he's on cloud nine. “Ah! Hard-er! Harderharderharder~!!”

When you blow your first load in him, the tightness of Makoto's ass and the strong scent of his hormones are enough to make your eyes roll back. Your hips slam into him a few times to empty all of your cum in there, and each time only brings the human that much closer to a complete mindbreak.

“Ooohhfuck… haah~ That was fuckin' good er- damn, I never got your name, did I?” The human shakes his head 'no', panting as his dick stays stiff as a board, red from cumming a second time.

He mutters something under his breath, but you can't quite make it out. You ask him to repeat it and he replies, “it'sss…Makoto…” in a sleepy, worn out tone.

“Well, Makoto, you think you're up for more?” you're asking, but not really asking…because you're going to fuck him again regardless. After all, all of these dumbass locals keep you stressed out every damn day — at this point, a full 24 hours of sex probably wouldn't be enough, much less one tiny orgasm.

Makoto lazily nods along, grinning up at you while you scratch his scalp affectionately. He has zero time to react as you begin thrusting again, ready to pound his hole until it's permanently molded to your shape.

His ass tightens around you again, and a third round of cum shoots out of his dick as it slaps against his warm body. His dick seems to stay hard even after that, turning redder by the minute, all while you ensure that his ass will be left gaping and oozing with your seed long after you're satisfied.

By the time you fill him up again, Makoto has orgasmed five times before, and his sixth nearly causes his voice to crack as his whole body convulses in your arms — his twitching cock shoots nothing this time, and the human is left with only dry orgasms for the rest of the day. Meanwhile, you have no intentions of stopping yet, even if it means your new human will fall unconscious—he'll still be your fuck doll while he rests.

[saphiccarma]

Hi, can you write something where Nicky gets lost in the forest and Rio and Agatha are desperately looking for him, or they find him with a witch in the forest and she's playing and showing her magic to him and it's cute? Please?

- Where Did You Go?

Relationships - Agathario x Reader

Summary - When Nicky goes missing Agatha instinctively panics. She doesn't expect to find him wth a strange witch who has unknown healing powers.

Warnings: None

A/N: Eee this was a fun little thing to help me get rid of the small writers block. Sorry it's not very long, but I hope you enjoy. Requests are still open it may just take me a minute to get to it

One minute, Nicky was right next to her, walking close as he was supposed to, and then he was gone. Panic surged through her as she noticed the absence of his small, and rather frail, form. Agatha had no idea what to do. They were in the middle of nowhere, with no town nearby, so he shouldn't be missing. Her eyes scanned the tree line, the large forces of nature surrounded her on all sides.

Nicky could be anywhere.

"Nicky?" she called, loud enough to attract his attention, but keeping her voice soft even as it broke, "Nicky."

There was no response. Agatha retraced her steps, trying not to let her panic consume her, and kept a careful eye on the tree line in case he magically appeared. Rio couldn't have- he couldn't be- No. She shook her head absently. He couldn't be gone yet.

Dirt was scuffed up as her steps became more frantic, her eyes scanning every inch of the area in front of her. All she was met with was trees that towered over and birds cawing. Desperation clawed at her as she grew more and more worried.

"Nicolas?" By now her panic had turned into something stronger, something raw and real. Her hands started glowing purple, a nervous reaction and a physical reaction to the anxiety that ran through her.

In an act of desperation, Agatha snatched a stick up off the ground, her hand clasping around the rough material. She traced a circle into the ground, adding an X through it and stood outside. The circle glowed bright green, the symbols illuminating the space that was steadily growing darker with the setting sun, before slowly fading. Rio stood in front of her, a flower twirling in her hand as she eyed the circle on the ground. Her feet scuffed it up, breaking the spell that trapped her inside and she stepped out.

"You called?" she asked, quirking a brow. The flower, a bright pink one, spun between her fingers as she took a step closer to Agatha.

She clenched her jaw and forced the words out, "I can't find Nicky."

Rio pinched the flower, one of the petals falling to the ground.

"You lost him?"

"I didn't lose him," Agatha snapped, purple flaring around her fingers. Rio eyed it with a hint of nerves, not for herself but for Agatha. The younger witch took a deep breath, reigning in her powers, and repeated her statement, "I didn't lose him."

"Hm," Rio hummed. She slid the flower into Agatha's hair, not caring for the other woman's scowl and the fury that radiated off her in waves. Taking off skipping, Rio moved through the woods, something pulling her towards Nicky.

There was always something pulling her towards him, a sense of death that kept her tethered to him. Rio never knew if it was because he was her son, or because he was meant to be dead. She didn't want to find out. The woods were getting darker the longer they went on, and Rio could hear Agatha clenching her hands impatiently as she trailed behind. As the force that was pulling her towards Nicky grew stronger, Rio felt another force of magic.

It was...soft. A soothing feeling that washed over her, calming all her worries and made it seem as if she had no responsibilities. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Agatha relax, hands falling limp at her sides and jaw unclenching.

She pressed forwards, stomping through bushes, but promptly stopping at the sight she was met with. A woman stood there; a green dress not so different from Rio's own covered her form as her hair covered her eyes. A red ball of magic swirled in her hand as she made shapes and figures with it, a small smile on her face as her tongue stuck out in concentration and she twisted her fingers. She looked so innocent. Untouched by the dangers of the world.

The magic, heat radiating from it so strongly Rio could feel it from here kept Nicky's attention. He didn't notice his mother's approaching. Flaring up in a way that could be compared to a flame, the magic wrapped around the two of them, and Nicky giggled loudly. It was a joyous sound that Rio wished she would hear more often.

But that joy was snuffed out when he coughed, hunching over and burying his face into his elbow. The other witch, with her red magic and innocent face, leaned forward and placed a hand on his back. It glowed a soft red, not like the strong color it was moments ago, and Nicky's coughing stopped. He looked at her with awe coating his face.

There was a knowing glint to her eyes as she glanced up at Rio, the smile on her face shifting from innocent to teasing. Her eyes flickered towards Nicky then back to Agatha and Rio. The woman paused in her magic making, making Nicky pout, his arms crossing.

"I am sorry," you said softly, "Your mothers are here."

The child, you think his name is Nicky, snapped his head around, his eyes locking onto Agatha's. You stood and out of the corner of your eye say Nicky's sheepish smile. He waved at his mothers.

"Hi mama, mami." He sprinted towards Death, a sight that you never thought you would see, and launched himself into her arms. Death herself laughed, burying her face in the child's hair and planting a soft kiss there. Even if she embraced him happily, you could feel the tension rolling off her in waves, unease etched into every one of her features.

"Hello my love," she said quietly, almost so softly you didn't hear it.

The other witch, one you didn't know, but you could feel the motherly presence radiating off her, eyed you suspiciously. You waved a hand in greeting, red still twirling around it as if it had a mind of its own. She eyed it like it would set the whole forest alight. It could if you wanted it to.

"Who are you?" the unknown witch asked, her voice terse and strained.

You smiled softly, "Y/N, protection witch."

"Fire," Nicky whispered softly, wiggling out of his mother's grasp and taking a hold of one of your hands, "Show them? Pleaseeeee?" He made his eyes wide, staring up at you with a puckered lip. You laughed, gently tugging your hand out of his grip and sparking a small flame to life in it.

Death eyed you oddly, her eyes transfixed on the fire while the other witch tugged her son closer, a protective arm rested on his shoulder. Wiggling your fingers with a small smirk, you put the fire out, dropping your hand to your side.

"Fire," you repeated.

"Who are you?" The unknown witch asked, and you smiled brightly. You glanced at Nicky who stood at your side, wide eyes imploring and innocent as they stared at you. But you knew he had seen so much more than he let on.

His sickness wasn't hard to notice, with the way he hunched over and even at a young age had dark bags under his eyes. Both women looked at him like he was such a fragile thing, ready to break at a moment’s notice. But most of all, you could just feel the death he gave off. Death shrouded him like a large coat. You knew that you could rid him of the death that clung to him stubbornly, cure him of whatever illness plauged him.

"Like I said, my name is Y/N. I'm a protection witch."

[vrystalius]

Upper moons vs

Human nature of petting everything and or copying noises

Imagine them watching their human stop to pet an animal based demon (like a demon cat) and copying their meows and noises

(The demon can’t do shit bc they’re there. Muzan silently glaring, Douma claiming the demon is a personal pet now, kokushibo doesn’t need to even be there, his scent is STRONK, Akaza silently chuckling.)

The Upper moons + Muzan’s reaction to you snuggling with a cat-demon

The Upper Moons + Muzan reacting to you being all cutesy with a cat-demon.

Pairing: Muzan, Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza x reader

Note: I imagined this cat-demon to be extremly disgusting and deformed. Some kind of weird horror creature XD I’m thinking about writing a fic about the hashira/upper moons get cursed and get cat ears of some kind. Also, this was fairly rushed. So sorry! <3

Muzan Kibutsuji

Muzan was experimenting with his blood and demon transformations, and what kind of different types of demons he can create. Just recently he made a cat-like demon. The behaviour of the creature was similar to that of a street cat. It had claws, patches of fur, cat-like ears and a short tail. It was even able to meow and purr, he noted. That thing is useless and hideous. Better to dispose of it before it causes any disturbances and annoyances.

He caught you snuggling up with this hideous demon while he was away to pick up his brand new suit. Muzan was not fond of the creature purring and laying its head on your lap while you were trying to teach it how to meow properly. Even glancing at the disgusting creature was enough to make Muzan feel a strange mix of disgust, disappointment and jealousy. Is he neglecting you to the point of you being willing to let this… thing… cuddle onto you? Also, why is this demon even daring to come this close to you?

Needless to say, disposing this waste of his blood was much sooner done than originally planned.

“Do not ever come too close to my experiments again unless either I am present or I allow you to.”

Kokushibo

Kokushibo always made sure to leave his scent on you at all times. Sometimes he’d give you one of his yukatas to wear or he might leave his scent by kissing your neck, marking your skin with hickeys.

This was a way to protect you from other demons approaching you and warning them of who is your protector whenever Kokushibo himself is not present.

Therefore, this cat-demon did not approach you. It smelled Upper Moon 1’s scent around you from across the halls of the infinity castle arc.

You never got to meet him.

Douma

He’s not fond of you interacting with other demons, especially the ones below Douma. What if they get too comfortable around you, hm? What then? He’d have to kill and eat them! He would never allow that!

This cat-demon was send to Douma by Lord Muzan to send out and search for the blue spider lily. He noticed pretty quickly how fond you became of this creature. You’re petting its fur, scratching behind the ears and even tried to imitate the meows its throwing at you.

Douma has a weird feeling in his stomach when watching you two. On one hand, you seem pretty happy with this weird pet cat demon. On the other hand, Douma could get you a regular kitty! That way, he doesn’t have to share you! Or if you want, Douma can meow for you. He just doesn’t really want you to be around this cat demon anymore! (Is he feeling jealous? He couldn’t possibly!)

“Dear lotus, how about you pet me instead, hmm? I can even meow for you if you like!”

Akaza

Who the hell is this damn demon? Why did this cat creature think it can just snuggle up onto you and act like you’re not already taken, huh? Can’t that thing notice Akaza’s smell on you? Oh it’s fucking infuriating him. He’s trying very hard to not slam the head of this freak against the floor until it dies and returns to the hellhole it came out of. The audacity to snuggle up on your lap and to act all innocent and stupid. Perhaps that demon creature is too stupid to realise that it’s utterly disgusting.

Yet, you welcomed it and scratched the fuzzy head of this demon, copying its odd meowing.

“Baby. Let it go.”

💠

My brain is getting fried right now by school work, so I might neglect asks for a little while to concentrate on my own works. I sometimes can’t fully concentrate or come up with good things for asks, so so sorry! I’ll work on them on the weekend and days where I feel more energised! <3

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ How they comfort you when you wake up from a nightmare

(F!Harbingers edition) Columbina, Arlecchino, Sandrone, Signora

(Due to the popular demands of many anon lovelies – I made an iteration of this fic under the same name, but female Harbingers edition! Hope I didn't disappoint, sorry if I couldn’t tag those old requests!)

It was a mere fleeting image, an illusion conjured by your weary mind as you plunged deeper into sleep. Yet as your unconscious brain fought off the shackles of nightmares, your body jolted awake with a gasp. In the deafening silence of the bedroom, only the sound of your breathing is uttered. It is then, when you sit up, that you start feeling the deft, gentle hands of your beloved shuffle from behind you. 

✧ You were trying to regain your breath when you noticed something shift beside you in bed. Columbina’s hands silently found themselves around your shoulder, her chest pressing onto your back. 

“Hm, a restless night, my angel?” 

You blinked your groggy fatigue away. With a wistful nod, you confirmed Columbina’s suspicion. She sensed your bashfulness to talk about the dream, not wishing to make her worry any more than she already does when doting on you. 

“Shh… Shh, just breathe. There is no need to feel flustered over something as natural as dreams,” – The Harbinger whispered through a mystic smile. She settled the pillows behind you, pulling you gently to her bosom while she embraced you. “Dreams, like nightmares, are all part of every living being. Some dreams are sweet, while others are engulfing.”

You listened to her voice, trying to ease your mind. You looked up at her; as always, her eyes were covered with white lace, yet her smile remained. Even if she spoke about macabre nightmares. 

“Rest your weary head, now, angel. Want me to sing you a melody?” 

You nodded, as expected. The Dove’s voice hummed a gentle melody in the darkness of your bedroom. Her voice carries a slow lullaby, melancholic almost, as she serenades you into rest. Like a lonesome bird, singing for her one only, telling the other: ‘I am here, with you in the dark’. She embraced you with her voice all while caressing your head and pulling you back into dreamless slumber. 

✧ When you awoke, the first thing you spotted was Arlecchino's charred hands placing a teacup on the nightstand beside you. You are unsure if you escaped your nightmare by gasping for air, or because you heard her stirring the warm liquid of the cup nearby. 

“You were having a nightmare,” – Arlecchino did not ask, but stated. She sat at the edge of the bed, her coat left hanging by a nearby chair. “What troubles you so?” 

You tried to sit up, but she silently ushered you to remain in bed. Sensing your already dazed expression being haunted with fatigue, Arlecchino shifted to sit closer. Her hand clasped yours in a tender gesture, even though her eyes remained stern.

You hesitated but relented. As you lay there in bed, looking up at her x-shaped pupils, you confessed about the lingering horrors of a crimson moon in your nightmares, how your breath runs short as if something is clawing at your neck. The Knave remained silent, her eyes cautiously narrowing as she observed you. 

“Perhaps the mind plays tricks on us when one is exhausted. Perhaps it's premonitions. Either way,” – her fingers gently came to caress your skin, brushing your hair back. “You mustn't let your exhaustion overwhelm you. Rest, now, and drink something warm.”

Her words were hushed, and her fingers kept brushing through your hair. A smile graced your lips when she ushered for the teacup by the nightstand, but you didn't feel like getting up. Instead, you were content staring at the depth of her black eyes, the red hue no longer threatening but soothing, even if it was the only color in the dark.  

Arlecchino respected your need for silence. Her sharp nails kept gently gliding over your skin, but she never fully let go. Despite her composed attitude and gentle grasp, her mind ran miles as she thought of ways to decimate all troubles for the one most beloved to her. 

✧ By the time you sat in bed, you heard familiar taps of small, rushed footsteps beside you. Sandrone, as if in a mechanical emergency, stood diligently beside you, her eyes inquisitive on your sudden gasps – “Is something the matter…? Your breathing is hurried.” 

You blinked, placing your hand on your forehead as realization dawned on you. Shaking your head softly, you reassured that it was a brief nightmare while you napped. But this did not diminish the wide peering eyes of the Harbinger. 

“Hm. I see. An unpleasant mental image processed by your subconscious. Then you must be feeling distraught,” - she pondered for a while, before nodding with determination. “Stay here. I must issue you a warm beverage at once!” 

Before you could protest, the wind-up key on Sandrone’s back was already spinning, her body moving in elegant clockwork, ardently rushing to make you something warm to drink. Even her giant servant, the modified Ruin Guard, arrived at her command with warm blankets and a comforter. 

You, obviously, had no say when that robot lifted you while Sandrone organized the bed more comfortably with pillows and blankets. 

Any words of assurance that you tried to mutter went completely unheard by Sandrone. She motioned for her robotic servant to place you back, ensuring you were comfortable first before she gently climbed beside you. 

“No, it cannot be a simple dream. Why would your heartbeat be alleviated, and your breathing labored?” - her voice was soft yet insistent as she scooted closer in worry. “Maybe yet, it's not about a nightmare, but something subconsciously worrying you…?” 

Oh no, you recognized her shift from innocent worry to threatening fixation. 

“... Maybe someone is the reason for these psychological disturbances? A pest hindering you?” 

You placed both of your hands on her shoulders in hopes of calming her down. If something catches her attention, or Archons forbid, her suspicion - the 7th of Fatui Harbingers would never settle down with mercy, despite her innocent appearance. Under your permission, she scooted closer, her smaller frame pressed to your side. Your warmth against her doll-like features assured her that you were here, safe beside her. 

“I won't let anything harm what is mine. Even if it's something nonphysical,” - her head leaned on your shoulder, whispering hushed vows of promised tempest. “My most precious is for no one to tamper with.” 

✧ As you stirred and struggled in your sleep, you felt a warm hand rest upon your forehead. La Signora sensed your unrest before you could even open your eyes, yet her simple motion grounded you back to reality as you called her name - Rosalyne. 

“Honestly, must I wake you like a mother whenever your dreams are restless?” – she leaned beside you in bed, watching over you with an amused smile, long locks of blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders. “Another nightmare, darling?” 

You slowly opened your eyes and nodded. 

“Hm. Come here, closer.” – she hummed as she sat up in bed, gently guiding you to rest your head on her lap. Even when her skin looked pristine and cold, you felt warm trails leave her fingertips as she caressed your forehead. You let out a deep breath, feeling your bedroom hair brushed away from your face, while Signora continued:

“You know, when I have nightmares, I quickly remind myself that these are nothing but memories. And being held hostage in the past is a weakness,” – her voice shifted lowly. “Do not allow some fleeting memories to take hold of you.”

You listen to her words; the question of whether she still sees nightmares in her sleep escapes you without a warning. But Signora just smiled faintly. When she saw you nuzzle to her, your gaze apologetic and timid in the dimness of the night, she did not scold you; she instead leaned carefully to plant a warm kiss on your forehead, like a Pyro Crystalfly landing in your head. 

“It doesn't matter anymore. What matters is that you are here, beside me.” 

(the bad thing about writing f!Harbingers for me is that I feel like I'm making random headcanons about their personalities, especially Columbina and Sandrone. We haven't seen them in-game yet and only got Arle as playable. I am biased because I wish we got more Harbingers in each region and not make them background villains. Anyway, thx for reading)

[spiderlily-w1tch-blog]

𝙺𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚘 𝚃𝚎𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚞 - 𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛/𝙷𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗

𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊

— — —

Ft Knotting, aquarium|enclosure, Teeth + Claws, tentacles, cunnilingus, sexual tentacle usage, light bondage(ish??), belly bulge, creampie

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own Haikyuu or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors

WC: 6,309

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Includes human/non-human romance/sex, Tentacles, no use of Y/n, 2nd Person POV, obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)

𝕸𝖎𝖓𝖎 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: y’all ready for one tentacle-y boi? HOLY SHIT, I KEEP GETTING CARRIED AWAY,, Why is it the Mers that are getting the highest word counts??? 😭😭

𝕸𝖎𝖓𝖎 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊 2; 𝕰𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖈 𝕭𝖔𝖔𝖌𝖆𝖑𝖔𝖔: So I have had A Thought™️ and I wanted to get y’all’s opinion. How would all you lovelies feel about a book centred around the concept of ‘If He Cheats, Fuck His Dad’ in the future, like I did for Enji? It won’t be exhibitionism but it will have some voyeurism if that catches your fancy, like when Shouto walked in. I have the concept kinda figured out but I wanted to know if that would interest some of you guys. Let me know if that’s something y’all would be interested in, lovelies!

【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

— — —

You readjusted your wetsuit again because they didn’t have your exact size so you had to improvise with what they had, and so it clung to your body so tightly it left practically nothing to the imagination. You supposed it didn’t really matter, so long as it wasn’t actually uncomfortable, since you’d only be surrounded by animals for the rest of the day. Even so, you felt just a tad.. exposed.

It was a ‘No Kids Day’ that the Aquarium held once every month. They called it that but it usually spanned about a week and it was all of July with about a week cushioning each the start and end of the month as that’s most commonly the animals’ Mating seasons. They don’t want to make parents explain ‘what’s the thing sticking out of the animal’ or ‘why are they clumped together like that’. You figured that very few, if any people would show up since it was mainly Kids that enjoyed the Aquarium.

Because they didn’t have your size, they didn’t want to risk a lack of mobility in your limbs, particularly your legs so they gave you a long arm bikini cut wetsuit which made it cling to your nether regions. The size was also tight enough that it made your chest feel like it was one too-fast movement from tearing right through it.

You had gotten a new job at the New Aquarium in Tokyo as the caretaker of one of their exotic animals. You heard it was some sort of Octopus or something, so it couldn’t be that hard since those are famously intelligent creatures. You thought back to what your new coworker had said just after you started your shift.

“Hey, newbie! You’re working with the new Rare Species Arrival, right? Well be careful, it’s the start of his mating season, so he might be a little… aggressive.” You weren’t too worried, though, I mean how hard could it be to fight off one little octopus should it try anything?

You got into the access room above the actual enclosure behind the wall of glass and froze for a moment. There was a man there, a shirtless one at that.

“U-uhm, excuse me! I don’t think you’re supposed to be in here, sir, this is for authorized personnel only.” You called out nervously, cheeks burning at the Adonis-like figure of whoever this man was. He seemed to perk up at your voice and turned around to look at you.

His face was also that of a god, with a chiseled jawline and naturally seductive piercing golden eyes that gazed directly into yours. He had a playful smirk on his face and the bit of hair falling into his face only seemed to add to how unbelievably attractive he was. His chest was fully on display and it was spectacular. He was built with lean muscle and tight muscles around his stomach that showed off deliciously sculpted abs.

“Hm? Do I not count as authorized personnel?” He asked in a teasing voice and a tentacle rose up for him to rest his arm on to snugly prop his chin on his fist. Wait- a tentacle? Either that is one obedient Octopus or… This is a Mer!

“Y-you’re a..”

“A Mer? Yea. Did no one tell you?” He chuckled with a raised brow, clearly amused.

“Yea- I mean, no. No one told me… I thought I was just caring for a rare Octopus…” You stayed staring in bewilderment, you had never seen a Mer before outside of textbooks or low-quality YouTube videos— most of them claiming it was Cthulhu or The Kraken in the clickbait thumbnail.

“I mean, they’re technically not wrong,” He teased, shrugging with a smug and still very amused smirk. One of his tentacles came up to almost teasingly wave at you.

“Well.. I-uh I guess I’m your caretaker now…?” You said as you distractedly waved back.

“Kuroo. Kuroo Tetsurou.” He finally gave you a genuine smile as he introduced himself. Kuroo. Okay, you got this. You just have to act like you would taking care of a regular octopus. Well, plus interacting like a person.. I guess. Even if he is probably the hottest guy I’ve ever seen…

“Uh-!” You rushed to give him your name when he arched a brow expectantly, “Nice to meet you.” You bowed in a hurry, realizing you had been standing there like an idiot for at least a full 30 seconds. He chuckled heartily and decided he’d make his way towards you. His demeanor made you feel like prey with a predator closing in, but you didn’t feel the instinctive need to run, rather something seemed to draw you in.

You’d seen octopi move before, it wasn’t anything new, but seeing the way this Octopus Mer moved seemed far more enticing than anything you had seen before. You saw the way the muscles moved differently than a normal Octopus since they had to hold up more weight and had to be firmer than the squishy wiggly ones for the squishy wiggly little floppy babies.

Seeing that you had no intentions to run, his smirk grew in satisfaction until he fully approached to rest right in front of you. His eyes seemed to almost devour you as he took in every bit of your body he could see, finding particular interest in your too-tight wetsuit.

“You didn’t know that I was a mer, you thought I was just a regular Octopus, yes?” He asked like he was simply looking for confirmation which you gave with a slow nod, “So if you thought you were caring for a regular Octopus… Does that mean that you’re some kind of freak with a tentacle fetish or something?” His tone was almost playful, not putting any malicious emphasis on the name he called you. It almost seemed like he was using it as a sort of term of endearment.

“What?” It shocked you out of your stupor anyways, dumbfounded that he would just call you names out of nowhere. But you figured out where ‘nowhere’ was when you saw his gaze still stuck on your suit that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. “Oh! Uh, no, they don’t have my proper size, they uh, need to order a new one so they gave me the next best thing… Which, apparently means tight enough that if my family ever saw me, granny would probably drop dead of a heart attack on the spot and my mother would be clutching her pearls so hard they’d break.” You chuckled, rambling and trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere with a joke. He chuckled as well, but the atmosphere didn’t change. His eyes were still dark and fixated on your body.

It was then that you remembered exactly what your co-worker had said and realized what she meant.

“Well be careful, it’s the start of his mating season, so he might be a little… aggressive.”

His mating season. And you had walked into his enclosure like a lamb to the slaughter with, albeit unintentionally, the most provocative clothing you could have worn. Your face flushed with heat and you reached your hand up to hold it in front of your chest, if only just to avert his attention before you combusted under his stare. Before you could reach up fully, though, a slimy appendage shot up and grabbed your wrist, not tightly enough to hurt, but enough that you knew you wouldn’t be able to break free.

“You’re supposed to be my new caretaker, right?” His voice was deeper and huskier than before, it was heavier with want. Finally, his eyes flicked up from your chest to your face, looking directly into your eyes, “So why don’t you take care of me?” You instantly knew what he meant and the thought only added to the heat in your cheeks, feeling like you were practically on fire at that point.

The longer you stared into his eyes, the more flustered you got, so to save your sanity, you turned your head to look away from him bashfully.

Oh, boy, that only made it worse.

When you looked away, you turned your head towards the viewing area and met the eyes of what looked like a college student or fresh graduate. His eyes were wide as he watched the scene unfold. He was reasonably shocked, he likely didn’t expect to see an Octopus Mer getting frisky with his caretaker who was dressed like that was your job with your ass hanging out and your tits about to burst from your stretched taut top. It almost seemed like a bad porno plot; The Caretaker seducing her Charge. Even moreso with your ‘Charge’ being an Octopus Mer. Gods know just how much Tentacle Porn there was. It was certainly someone’s fantasy.

You hadn’t really thought it was yours but with the way your thighs clenched as you saw his tentacles writhing over each other you realised it was very much within the realm of possibilities. The stare of the spectator didn’t deter you as you looked back at the mer as such as you could bring yourself to. With a fiery blush heating your face, you nodded silently at him and his smirk only grew. It became far more predatory, like a fox about to catch the hare. Well. The aquatic version of that, you supposed.

The look didn’t set off the alarms that it probably should have since he could easily overpower you should he decide he wanted to. Rather it sent a jolt of arousal to the pit in your lower belly. You subconsciously squeezed your thighs together and got lost in your gaze at his lips that slightly pulled back to reveal sharp teeth that just screamed danger. Again, no alarms where there likely should have been. He had such strength that he could have you pinned down in 2 seconds flat and keep you down without even breaking a sweat and claws and teeth that were sharp enough that he could probably tear or bite into your flesh like a knife through warm butter. The thought sent another shock of warmth to your belly and a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Glancing back to the viewing glass, you saw that more people had accumulated. They peered into the enclosure with interest and incredibly unabashed staring at your tits and ass. The attention flustered you and made you shrink into yourself just a bit before a clawed hand lifted to your chin. With delicate yet firm movements he guided you to look at him, his amber eyes pierced into you with an intensity that captivated you instantly.

“Don’t pay attention to them. You’re here to take care of me remember? Or do I have to take care of you first?” His voice dropped an octave as the hand on your chin shifted to hold your face, his hand wrapping around your jaw with your chin in the juncture of his thumb and index finger while his other hand slid over your waist to firmly grip your hip. His claws pricked the taut fabric just enough to tear small holes that became visible from the extreme stretch of the fabric that widened them. Your face erupted in a blush at his words and your reaction instantly brought a smirk to his face. “I’ll take that as a yes…” He rumbled, pleased, and picked you up like you weighed next to nothing and carried you to one of the shallower artificial tide pools towards the back of his enclosure, though still very much in view of the audience.

“W-wait- what are you-?” You were suddenly cut off by his clawed hands grabbing your tight suit, trying to find a way to pull it down before he realised that it was a one-piece suit. With an annoyed huff, he quickly thought up a solution when he saw the holes in the hip of the fabric and smirked. One of his sharp claws was instantly at the hem of the leg hole, carefully wiggling under it, making sure to not nick your skin. Once his finger was under the fabric, he slid it closer to the crotch of your suit. His warm finger brushed against the sensitive skin of your mound and made you shiver and quietly mewl, though he still seemed to hear it if the growing smirk on his lips was anything to go by. Once he reached just above your tingling cunt, his claw started to rip at the taut fabric, creating tears instantly.

With one quick tug, the fabric snaps like a rubber band cut by scissors, the instant slack causing the wetsuit to bunch up around your ribs. You gasped and shivered when the cold air suddenly met your wet heat. A deep chuckle brought your attention back to Kuroo’s face as he positioned himself between your spread thighs. His tentacles were spread out in the shallow pool under him, showing them off— whether that bit was intentional or not, you didn’t know, nor did you really care, it had the same effect either way— and the sight sent another little shock of arousal to your drippy cunt. Well, that answers that, I suppose.

His strong, clawed hands wrapped easily around your thighs and maneuvered them onto his shoulders to frame his face with a wicked glint in his eye. Without much warning other than the opening of his mouth, his sharp teeth glinted in the light and his long tongue lolled out of his lips and licked a long stripe up your cunt. The flat of his tongue against you and the long drag on your sensitive skin had your head thrown back immediately. A low, guttural moan left you and it seemed to encourage him further. Still with long licks— insanely, mind-numbingly long licks— his tongue flicked and lapped against you and swirled around your clit.

Your back arched off the very convincing fake rocks as he devoured you like you were his last meal. His ridiculously long tongue felt heavenly against your sensitive folds and added to the pleasure infinitely with the agonizingly long licks. A yelp was pulled from your chest and turned into a drawn-out moan when the tip of his tongue finally probed your entrance. The wet muscle wiggled and squirmed its way into your wet tunnel and thrust back and forth into you, going deeper each time.

You hadn’t gotten to see the full extent of his tongue but you could sure as hell feel it. The very tip of his tongue reached all the way to your cervix and teased around the muscle, even going so far as to lightly prod it. His eyes had been closed in satisfaction and gratification but they snapped open to stare at you and take in your reactions. Your moans reached a higher volume and pitch as the feeling and you could feel the smirk on his lips pressed against your heated skin. You would have scolded him and probably given him a good whack but your pleasure was far too overwhelming for you to truly think about fulfilling the action, much less actually moving to do so. Your thighs quivered with the urge to snap shut around his head but his hands quickly wrapped around them to hold them in place.

“Fuck- Kuroo- gods please!!” You didn’t know what you were begging for— reprieve or an orgasm, you weren’t sure— but he seemed to know. With a loud, lewd ‘slurp’ he finally pulled his tongue from deeper inside of you than had ever been reached before. A loud cry ripped through the air at the sudden feeling and his textured tongue scraping against all the sensitive nerves inside you. Before you could really believe he had given you respite his tongue was back to swirling around your clit and lapping at your folds with near desperation. Your body jolted off the faux-rock and hunched over his form, hands burying in his surprisingly soft and silky locks, automatically pushing his head further into you, mashing his mouth into your cunt, and adding pressure to the oversensitive skin. Your thighs burned at the stretch of being pressed fully into your torso but it didn’t matter when Kuroo was giving you pure bliss and sending you straight to Nirvana. His hands dug into your thighs, creating small pinpricks with his claws in the flesh and likely leaving hand-shaped bruises for you to display later.

Quickly, you were brought to the edge and unceremoniously hurled off of it, sending you hurdling into easily the most intense orgasm you’d ever experienced up til that point. You nearly collapsed back against the faux rock before a chuckling Kuroo guided you safely to lay back, your chest heaving for breath.

“You alright?” Kuroo chuckled with his tantalizingly deep voice. All you could offer was a dazed ‘uh-huh’ through heavy breaths and after such insane stimulation it came out high-pitched and almost whiny. With another deep chuckle, Kuroo drags his hands up your inner thighs until they reach the creases where your thighs met your hips, thumbs on the part of your thighs next to your trembling heat. The fingers stroked over the skin and set your nerves alight with every touch.

“You ready for me now? I took care of you now you’ve gotta do your job and take care of me.” He rumbled as he pushed himself up your body with his extremities— the sound of the wet muscles writhing was downright pornographic with the lewd squelching. His breath fanned over your neck and just below your ear as he held himself up with strong arms caging you in on either side of your head. A shiver wracked through your body at the sound of his sexy voice in your ear and the feeling of his hard body pressed against yours, though the most tantalizing thing you could focus on was the feeling of the softer, slimier flesh below his waist at the base of his octopus half.

“Y-es..” Your voice trembled with lewd wanting and your response coaxed yet another chuckle from the mer.

“Good girl.” He purred into your ear while he dragged his sharp teeth against the skin of your neck. Before you could react, or really even know what was happening, Kuroo moved back away from you, though he didn’t stray far. You felt the cold, slimy sensation of tentacles inching up and around your body before they hoisted you up with incredible strength. His arms quickly replaced the tactile appendages and the sound of writhing tentacles returned as he brought you away from the shallow pool.

And towards the viewing area.

The large window came back into view and the crowd had remained. Mostly college students, you noticed, and yet they still reacted like horny teenagers with the tents in their pants or the rubbing together of their thighs. You didn’t have much room to talk, you supposed, as it took hardly more than a few whispered sensual words in your ear to get you dripping. Before you knew it Kuroo’s tentacles were sliding and winding back up your body — your legs and your middle— and holding you open in front of him as he rested back against another faux-rock in his enclosure. You looked down at him to see what he was doing and saw his hands reaching for your breasts. With large, clawed hands, he groped your chest and thumbed at your nipples through the fabric still pulled taut across your frame.

Quickly, he grew tired of the cloth barrier and carefully, as to not prick you or hurt you, dug his claws into the wetsuit between your breasts and easily tore it apart. With a loud ‘rip’ the fabric was no more and hung uselessly beside your chest, around your shoulders. He hummed with appreciation and went back to groping you. The feeling of his large hands enveloping your chest distracted you long enough, you didn’t notice another tentacle inching up your leg until it reached your cunt. It swirled around your clit like his tongue had and you yelled at the sudden sensation. You cursed loudly when yet another limb slid up your leg to prod at your entrance.

A shocked scream was pulled from your throat when it entered you, the tip already thicker than his tongue. You looked down and saw his smug expression and satisfaction glinting in his amber eyes. Looking further down— down past his toned stomach that had abs you wanted to worship— you saw he still had 3 tentacles planted on the ground to keep him stable while the other 5 were on your body. What caught your attention even more was the squirming appendage that almost looked like another tentacle, though considerably shorter than the rest. When a bead of a clear liquidy substance appeared at the tip and dripped down its length it wasn’t long before you realized what it was. His cock.

Your walls unconsciously clenched at the sight and subsequent realization and it coaxed a groan out of him as he felt your walls convulse around his tentacle that worked you open much like his tongue had. It thrust in little bits at a time, going deeper each time, and stretching you on the increasing thickness of the tapered appendage. You hadn’t realized you were moaning until a louder one was punched out of you when his hands moved to your hips to fuck his tentacle deeper into your cunt. The limb that still circled your clit sped up its ministrations and pushed you further to your second release. The intense feeling of eyes on you brought your gaze back to Kuroo’s face but his eyes were closed in bliss as he felt the tightness of your cunt around his thick extremity. With that realization, your head quickly swiveled to the side and saw nearly all of the gazes outside of the viewing glass trained on you and Kuroo and his movements and his tentacle thrusting into your sloppy cunt like a fucking sex machine.

Their eyes didn’t deter or disturb you as much as you would have thought. It spurred you on, even. With the newfound boldness, you began to move your hips against Kuroo and the appendages giving so much attention to your pussy and his eyes shot open. A cocky smirk resurfaced on his lips and his hands squeezed your hips before releasing them and returning to your chest while the limbs wrapped around your thighs and midsection tightened their grip to assist in pounding your pussy. His fingers toying with your nipples, the constant stimulation to your clit, and the tentacle ramming into you all combined in their pleasure and had your eyes rolling back as your tongue lolled out as Kuroo continues to fuck your brains out while your orgasm crashed over you. Your cunt gushed around the appendage that constantly re-stretched you with every thrust and slammed into the deepest parts of you that even his tongue hadn’t reached.

When your senses slightly returned to you, you let your head hang limply and looked down towards where the octopus mer was entering you over and over again and saw the way your tummy protruded every time the limb slammed back into you. The tentacle went so far into you each time you could feel it curl inside you as it slammed against the back of your cunt. The way it curled only served to create a larger protrusion and an even more explosive pleasure. He kept pounding you until your walls clamped around him again with another mind-numbing orgasm. Finally, he gave you a moment’s reprieve, forcing his limb deep into your depths and keeping it there. Your eyes rolled back and your body stiffened, legs straightening and toes curling, fists clenching and back arching, a silent scream never escaping your throat.

“Good girl. So good for me. Gotta get you all loose and relaxed so I don’t break you on my cock. Too badly, anyways.” Kuroo’s deep voice broke through the ringing in your ears and brought you back to reality. Your body fell limp in his hold, his tentacles around your thighs and middle and his hands still grasping and groping your chest being the only things holding you up.

“Think they’ve enjoyed the show so far? Think they’ll enjoy the next one even more?” He rumbled, shifting your and his bodies into a new position you couldn’t comprehend just yet. His words didn’t make sense at first, your brain still muddled from your consecutive mind-blowing orgasms, until he settled into the new position and you managed to lift your head from where it had fallen back onto his shoulder. Through your still-recuperating vision, you managed to make out the sight of the college students outside the viewing glass. Though you still couldn’t quite see right the coloured blobs movements spoke to hands palming their bulges or creating friction between clamped thighs. A surge of excitement went through you and sobered you right up.

Instantly, you recognized your position, your back to his chest, his hands gripping your legs and keeping them wide open— both for his access and to display you to your audience— two of his tentacles assisting him with a strong grip around the very tops of your thighs, wrapped twice round with the squirming tips wriggling on your mound above your dripping messy cunt. His cock was stood at attention between your legs intimidatingly and twitching in a desperate want to be buried inside your fertile pussy.

In anticipation, intimidation, or excitement— you didn’t know which— you gulped, staring wide-eyed at the girthy member in front of you. Wordlessly, Kuroo cooed into your ear and nosed at the edge of your jaw and placed sweet yet possessive kisses to the area of your neck there. He scraped his fangs against your neck and sucked small marks there that would more than likely fade quickly but he was gladly planning on replacing them with longer-lasting ones soon enough.

A horny whimper was the cue for Kuroo to proceed. He shifted his hips and his hold on you to align his cock with your folds. He rutted his hips up and forward a few times, the narrow tip just sliding through your lower lips. Increasingly agitated grunts and growls left his chest until finally, his tip caught on your hole where he paused before it would slip past. With careful precision, he thrusted his hips in a way that finally managed to bury himself inside you. With his first thrust, he managed to push half of himself into your tight walls, even with only half, you already felt so perfectly full. With his quick thrust, you couldn’t feel the way his tapered cock slowly increased in diameter but you knew. You remembered the sight of it that had your pussy dripping.

You looked up and saw the multiple pairs of eyes trained on you and where you were connected with your new charge. The way he was already beginning to stretch your cunt around him. He pulled back just a couple of inches before he snapped his hips up again, pushing more of himself in. Now you could feel the way his size increased when he pushed in further bit by bit. Before he was even fully inside, you could feel your pussy stretched out around his girth and how his length reached so far inside you. You didn’t even realize the whorish moans that left your mouth until the cocky, amused chuckle from Kuroo brought you back from your intense focus on the physical sensations that threatened to push you over the edge.

“Feeling good, angelfish?” His sultry voice sounded from right next to your ear and you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning just from that and the feeling of his warm breath against your neck.

“Yea…” You nodded with your breathy response and shivered at another chuckle that vibrated deep in his chest.

“Good girl.” He purred again and kept up his pace of pushing more and more of himself into your tight little cunt, pushing past the slight resistance until he was fully buried inside you. The burn was vastly overpowered by the pleasure and you had to fling your head back onto his shoulder with a moan as your stomach muscles tightened at the delicious feeling of being so full and stretched. He gave you only a moment of rest before he slowly pulled his hips back from you until there was only his narrow tip still inside you. With a swift motion, he slammed his hips up to bury himself in you with one swift thrust that punched a loud yelp of a moan out of you and jolted your body upwards despite his hold on your thighs and around your midsection.

The tentacle around your middle began winding further around your body until it went across your back and around to your chest. It wound itself around your breast and teased and flicked your nipple. A surprised whine left you and a long, high moan followed it at the sensations. The tip circled your nipple and twisted and pulled before covering it fully and letting its sucker do the job instead. The sucker tugged and pulled your bud and provided such a foreign sensation that you couldn’t help but react. Your chest arched into the tentacle’s hold and you squirmed helplessly at the strange feeling.

“Ah, you like that, don’t you?” Kuroo, the cheeky bastard, muttered into your ear as he placed more marks along the column of your throat. Your answering shiver and moan was enough for him to snap his hips up sharply into you. The way his tip slammed against the back of your walls had you squirming and mewling. Incoherently, you begged for more and he happily indulged. With a cocky smirk practically sculpted permanently into his face, he continued to fuck you brutally. It seemed as if the more he fucked into you, the more brain cells it killed with how thoughtless your hazy brain became. All you could do was release slutty moans and mewls as your body shook with the force of his thrusts. Your hamstrings burned with the stretch of his hold on you but you couldn’t care less with the overwhelming pleasure he pounded into you. You could practically hear the ‘Ooh’s and ‘Ahh’s of the people outside the viewing glass and it only fueled your mindless state.

Kuroo chased his release relentlessly and pounded into you with such force that you wondered if it was possible to bruise your velvety walls. The squirming appendage inside you managed to hit each and every one of the spots inside you that ignited the jolts of pleasure that shot through your whole body. The deep voice of the mer fucking you so deeply was like paradise with the sounds of his growls, grunts, and moans as the pleasure seeped into him as well. Suddenly, you came to the realisation that the base of his cock was becoming more firm and even bulging out. It took longer than you’d like to admit for you to realise what it was; a knot. The thought was beyond tantalizing to you, a bolt of excitement rushing through you. Your walls fluttered and clenched around him in reaction and it wrenched a groan from his throat that made goosebumps litter your skin in record time.

“Fuck. Feel so fuckin’ good, angelfish. Gonna knot you.. Gonna breed you so fucking’ full.” He grunted in your ear and it made your face flush with warmth and your pussy to gush around him. Being bred by a mer had never exactly been on your bucket list but now it sounded downright appetizing. He felt the way your body reacted and groaned in response, thrusting with more vigor. He gladly put on a show for the audience outside his enclosure and showed you off like a beloved prize. As his knot inflated he didn’t slow down even once and looked down and away from the humans watching to enjoy the sight of your belly bulging with every time he bottomed out.

Before long, his knot inflated enough that he couldn’t force his hips flush to yours anymore and he consciously kept it from popping inside you. You felt the fullness of it every time it pressed against your stretched hole and whined every time he didn’t push it into you, every time he refrained from filing you fully and spilling his cum deep inside you. He didn’t respond to your desperate whines, too lost in the pleasure, and simply proceeded to leave more lasting marks on your skin. Darker splotches appeared on your shoulders and neck along with bites with just the smallest pinpricks where he was careful not to fully bury his fangs in your flesh.

Soon, you felt why he was waiting to push his knot inside your cunt. Above his swollen base, another bit of his slimy, wriggling cock began to inflate. This one was a bit smaller than the very base of his member but nonetheless tantalizing. Because of its smaller size, it inflated much quicker than the fuller knot below. The feeling of the smaller bulb catching on the rim of your cunt was delicious and had you crying and whining like a desperate whore for him to fill you up. More aggressive and hurried grunts left him and more wordless coos to you and silent praises in the form of nosing at your jaw and temple were as much of a warning as you got that he was nearing his end. Your body was being jolted with every powerful thrust into your sopping cunt and the more slutty moans it punched out of you.

“Fuck-! Kuroo-! Please, fuck… Please- Pleasepleaseplease!!” You cried, not fully knowing if you were begging for him to knot you, to cum inside you, to give you reprieve, or to let you cum— or some sort of combination— but not quite caring either so long as he fulfilled your desperate pleas. Possessive growls filled your ears and set off every nerve in your body and shot down to your core, setting off the most powerful orgasm yet. Your walls clamped and fluttered around him like a vice and tried to milk him for all he was worth.

It seemed to work because with a final loud, possessive, and nearly dangerous growl he slammed his hips up into you just a couple more times before both of his knots managed to fit inside your still-spasming cunt. The feeling of his knots filling you so full and so instantaneously was enough to ignite another orgasm before the previous one was even over. With a scream of pure ecstasy, your body convulsed and tightened and spasmed and finally fell limp in Kuroo’s hold as he stuffed you fuller than you’d ever been in your life.

“Fuck, angel. Holy shit. You took me so fucking good, angelfish. So perfect. Fits so perfectly. Fillin’ you up so full, angelfish.” He spoke through rough, ragged breaths. You trembled in his grip as you felt just that— his cum pumping into you. His narrow tip pushed into and past your cervix, just barely poking into your womb as he pumped load after load into you. Looking down with blurry— almost double— vision you saw the way his cock bulged your tummy and how it steadily increased with how much hot, fertile seed he was emptying inside you.

“Gonna be such a good mama. Gonna look so fuckin’ pretty all round and full with my babies. ‘N’ when you give birth I’ll fill your womb up again with my cum ‘n’ get you pregnant all over again. Gonna keep you good and bred. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, angelfish?” He spoke with his deep, sultry voice directly in your ear as he nosed at the space just below it, nipping your lobe slightly and pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Yea… Wan’ it.. Wanna be bred. Wanna be full…” Your words slurred together as you huffed and puffed for breath after the rough pounding and the consecutive orgasms that stole the air from your lungs.

“And I’ll give it to you. I’ll keep you nice and bred however long you want it. Make you a mama over and over again.” He flicked his gaze other to the glass and while his pride swelled in his chest that they all got to witness as he claimed you, his possessiveness prevailed in his instincts and he sent a glare at the humans who dared to keep staring at what was his. With that in mind— overtaking his mind, snuffing out any other thoughts— he slinked back towards his pool, keeping you stuffed with his knots. He shifted you from being fully spread out to simply being held against him as he held you close and easily made his way back to the privacy behind his faux rocks. He kept your shoulders and everything up above water while he held you tenderly close, carefully stroking his clawed hand over your swollen stomach. You rested limply against him and remained pliable for him to move about, your muscles like wet spaghetti in their uselessness. Kuroo wrapped his arm around your middle and buried his head in your neck, simply inhaling your scent and imagining what you’d look like all swollen with his young, the image adding fuel to the fire in his lower belly. Then, he imagines what your offspring would look like and it made his pride and protectiveness swell in his chest.

He couldn’t wait for you to give birth so he could do it all again.

— — —

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:

@frosch-thefrog @hellsingalucard18

[the-east-art]

In shifter stan au does stan need to know a lot about the organs of the species he's transforming to? Like, for example, did he have to study how gills work before transforming into a fish for the first time?

Also, if he can have an uncanny valley look or another finger, how unhuman can he look without transforming into an animal? Can he give himself extra eyes maybe? Some animal part without fully transforming?

Stan does need to know a certain amount about that kind of stuff. Shifting is a mix of thought and instinct, and when he's transforming into people (or even most animals) it's mostly instinct on how to make it work. I don't know if he could break it down for you if he tried. For the fish gills though he did have to do a bunch of research. AGain that's as far from his 'base form' as he's ever managed, and he really doesn't love it. (Oh my god I haven't shared his mermaid form yet which he uses instead of the fish one whenever he can). Hm. I kinda want to talk more the fish shift if anyone is curious.

For the second part of your questions: Stan can partially shift. In my initial version of the Scary-Oke scene Stan grows spikes on his fists and transforms his eyes into cat eyes to see in the dark easier. Extra eyes is a no-no though, too much changing around of things like the skull in a way that isn't natural. He'd really have to work for it, and to what purpose? I believe I've also drawn him in his half-bear transformation a couple of times, where he's bigger and it's mostly focused on giving him a large muzzle with teeth and bear claw hands and arms.

[baby-tini]

coughs . just Dazai w a cat girl so he teases the fuck outta her ! ! pulling at her tail to get reactions and practically overstim whenever they have sex :<

I love Dazai with a catgirl because he's so mean to her!! Also, Dazai is curious by nature, so he'd want your reactions to everything that he does to you, like, if he were too give your little ears a slight tug, what sounds would you make? Would you hiss at him, hm? What if he just blew in your ears? Would they twitch? Would you scratch at him if he pulled your tail? And... just how far do your little kitty instincts go? If you see a laser pointer are you gonna chase it? What if there's birds outside? Are you gonna do that little kitty chirp or do you not entertain the idea, he's just so curious, especially if it's not an ability. Were your little ears tinier, did they grow with you? And don't even give him the idea too pull your little tail while he's fucking you, 'cause he will. Especially if you're tryna get away from him, he'll pull you back towards his hips by your tail. Especially if it makes you cum faster, or when he talks real low in your ear as he has his hand around your throat and you let out little kitty mewls, those are his favorites by far. Or when he has you on your back and your claws are digging into his chest and back, puncturing through his bandages because you can't take it anymore and there's lines of blood dripping down his chest... oh and, that little sandpaper tongue of yours? Yeah, he's gonna have fun with it, especially when it's wrapping around the head of his cock.

[billskeis]

ᡣ𐭩 bus shenanigans w bill

it was mid day into the summer where you and the band were on world tour, travelling from place to place as the exhausting schedules had you all working to the bone.

of course, as part of their management team, you did everything in your power to keep the band in check.

water? done. snacks? already given. towels? passed around.

not to mention, the constant words of affirmation and reassurance that everything will be okay.

you were their escape of solace in the midst of youthful chaos.

“tomtom! where’s bill? i don’t think i’ve seen him at all today,” you pout.

“hmph, little cunt must still be sleeping. you know how he gets on tour,”

that’s right. when given the day off bill will not do anything but sleep. sleep until late evening, as unhealthy as it is, you understand from a rockstar point of view.

“ah.. okay! ‘m gonna go check up on him, see if he needs anything.”

“i don’t think that’s a good idea y/n,”

“huh?”

“ask georg or gustav, whenever we bother him during his nap time he throws a fit. gets all moody nd shit,”

“i find that hard to believe,” you cross your arms.

“alright, go see for yourself,”

“y’know what i will!”

tom clicks his tongue and sips on his coke, smirking as your figure disappears from within the bus foyer to go to where bill’s bunk was.

since you made it your mission to prove tom wrong due to your stubborn persona, it was only natural that you went to go see bill. little did you know about what bill had in store for you specifically if you had woken him.

“you’re in deep trouble, y/n.”

as you open the door to the even more cramped space, you see a figure adorned in all black under the thin fabric of a blanket covering the figure.

his body moves up and down as he breaths. sound asleep eh? you make small tip-toed steps towards the bunk bed.

“billy..? you sleeping in?”

you sit down on the hard mattress and couch under to fit yourself within the tiny space. patting bill’s still body, you attempt to wake him up.

“c’monnn you gotta wake up half the day is over and we have stuff to do—”

everything happened in a flash you don’t even know how you ended up in such a position.

bill is on top of you.

THE bill fucking kaulitz has you pinned down on the bunk bed. the grip he has on each of your wrists tighten and you wince at the pain. you don’t remember bill ever being that strong but he has been working out a bit more for their comeback.

his locs fall a down to tickle your cheeks. he looks down at you, pitiful. eyelids lowered as he gazes into yours with absolute darkness and lust. you feel yourself getting hot.

what the hell did you get yourself into?

“y/n. i was napping.”

“i-i know, but i figured that we have a lot on our plate we needed our lead singer,”

“did you? or did you wanna just come here and bother me because you just wanted to see me, hm?”

“u-um..”

he leans his face closer to yours, eyes never breaking contact as he slightly grins. he enjoys how worked out and shy you’re getting as you begin to get the cold sweats, shaking a bit.

“oh you little slut, you’re in big trouble now schatzi,”

bill begins to claw at your pants to take them off, thank god you didn’t wear anything that had any buttons or zippers because he would get so frustrated he’d rip the whole thing off of you.

“bill! there’s people on the b-bus..!”

“and? you were warned,”

“s-stop, please..”

“betcha tom already warned ya, but your pretty little head thought it was okay anyway..”

with the undressing of your pants came with your panties, that hid how coated your cunt was with slick.

truthfully and shamelessly, you were turned the fuck on.

bill wastes no time as he freed his hardened cock from his pyjama pants, already leaking with precum. as he rubs the tip up and down your slit, you whine at how sensitive you were. bill knew how to rile you up sensually or not, and it drove you nuts.

“please..”

“hmmm? can’t hear you mein maus.. gonna have to speak up.”

“please..! j-just get it over with—ah!”

you yelp at the sudden thrust of bill’s cock into your entrance. already balls deep, bill cannot help but let out a wanton moan as you clasp one of your hands on his mouth.

“fuuuck you drive me nuts..”

“q-quiet..!”

he licks at your hand playfully to which you immediately pull it away.

“b-bill!?”

chuckling, a smile is plastered on bill’s face as he sheaths his cock in and out of your pussy slowly.

“mm.. you’re so warm nd tight,” he moans as he uses both hands to caress the curves of your waist, hands exploring what’s his. he needed you, and craved you.

hey, at least he’s awake now.

bracing yourself, both his hands stop all movements as they now hold onto your waist tightly. with rhythmic thrusts, bill keeps a steady pace fucking into you as if it were his last time to.

he’s in a frenzy. bill cannot stop moving his hips. the loud squelching of how wet and slick your cunt furthered this need to fuck you into an oblivion.

bill doesn’t hear your pleads to ‘s-stop!’ or ‘slow down..’ he doesn’t notice the pool of cum and squirt mixed between where the two of you were joined on the bed sheets growing. he doesn’t notice your cunt tightening by the second and how you’ve already came.

words fall onto dead ears, your now babbling for him to stop as the pressure of his cock in your cunt makes pushes you further into ecstasy.

“b-billy! a-ah! i already came! i know now not to wake you up s-so p-pleaseeepleasepleaseplease slow down—ungggghhh..!” you attempt to whisper, but they come out as quiet screams instead.

as he snaps out of it, he takes a good look down at your body on top of him, eyes widening for a second but never stilling his movements.

“f-fuck y/n.. look at you, such a whore f’me.. me, and me only..”

“i—ugh—i can’t do this anymore.. they’re gonna hear us..,”

“pft, whatever. let them hear how much of a slut you become for my cock. you deserve this.”

you just want this to end. with a pussy all sore and sensitive from how big bill is, not to mention how with each thrust bill’s cock hits your cervix balls deep, you’re bound to not walk the next day.

bill places a kiss on your mouth, tongue assaulting every nook and cranny of your mouth as you try to keep up with him.

as his mouth leaves yours, you attempt to catch a breath from not only him kissing you but how his tip hits your g spot every single time he presses his dick into you.

“h-hahh.. bill..” you wrap your arms around his neck.

“mein schatz.. these visits better become a daily thing, wanna punish you over and over again till’ you pass out from how good i fuck you.”

georg walks into the shaking tour bus with gustav after their smoke break.

tom is sitting on the couch eating his skittles and watching the small television propped up on one of the bus walls.

“didn’t you warn her?” georg asks as he hands tom back his lighter.

your moans can be heard from the opposite side of the bus. seems as though you stopped caring about the noise.

“i did, holy shit they been at it for like an hour now..”

“EW GUSTAV YOU’RE HARD.”

“shut the fuck up.” as he covers his lap with a pillow.