#i fucked up my layers and his skin looks so pale

[sonofajokester]

Can you draw Captain Marvelous from Kaizoku Sentai Gokaiger please? Link: https://powerrangers.fandom.com/wiki/Captain_Marvelous

Did my darndest for ya <3

[silkjade]

WICKED DRAGON, LAY WASTE TO ME

⤀ synopsis: neuvillette has always been the gentlest of lovers—and so tonight you ask him not to hold back ⤀ cw: afab!reader, unprotected + rough sex, size kink, praise, overstimulation, breeding + creampie, marking, monsterfucking (dragon cock), cervix fucking, multiple orgasms, dumbification, mentions of mates, lil bit of dom!neuvi (??) but he is still sweet — mdni || ꒰ 8.4k wc ꒱ ⤀ notes: leviathan fic for leviathan neuv ( i’m not talking abt his constellation ) rbs + feedback are always vry much appreciated ♡

“Well? What do you think?” You come home, twirling before him in a gown, different than the one you had left in. The short hem at the front lifts mischievously, teasing just a peek of what lies underneath, while the longer, flouncing layers of skirts behind you, wrap flirtatiously around your legs. Neuvillette feels his throat run dry.

“Navia and Clorinde thought it was high time I changed my look, and you know I can’t ever say no to Chioriya Boutique.” 

While he’s spent the better part of the night reviewing court documents in the parlor, you have been out with Navia and Clorinde, who he thinks have perhaps plotted to kill him. ‘Girls’ night,’ you had called it.

Draped in a vivid palette of the finest fabrics, decorated interchangeably with delicate metalwork and dainty ribbons, the blush on his pale skin is ever-present as he rakes his eyes up and down your body. The dark, patterned stockings, squeezing your thighs just enough, so that supple flesh spills obscenely over the top, the tight, whale-boned embrace of your corset, accentuating the curves of your waist, and pushing upwards the swell of your breasts…

A coy smile graces your features when you catch how his throat bobs in his silence. Giggling, you lean down, tracing the tip of your finger up the contours of his neck, skimming the gentle curve beneath his chin until you’ve tilted his gaze to yours. “Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, got nothing to say?”

How can he even think, much less find the right words to say, when the familiar scent of your perfume fills his head with indecent, lascivious thoughts? Everything about you is intoxicating, almost insidiously attractive, so would it suffice to say that he’d much rather see your pretty, new dress abandoned somewhere on the floor? 

That first pulse of arousal translates into the first twitch of his cock, and oh how he wishes to kiss away your teasing little grin, but his lust-driven eyes are drawn to the miniscule movements of your bodice sleeve, predatory as he watches how it begins to shift, ever so slowly, off your shoulders. 

“If you don’t like it, then perhaps…” You loosely roll your shoulder, letting the sleeve slide right off. “…you’d like to help me undress?”

That, he will gladly do. His hands fly to your waist, dragging you down into a straddle over his hips. 

“Temptress,” he murmurs into the skin of your neck, distracting you with a featherlight kiss as his nimble fingers waste no time in undoing the delicate clasps of your bodice, leaving the heavy outer garment to tumble off your shoulders, abandoned in a pile at your waist. 

Cool air licks at the now exposed skin, though it’s nothing compared to the warmth of his lips as he slots his mouth against yours, gently coaxing you open with a subtle swipe of his tongue. Your eyes flutter shut in honeyed complacence, allowing Neuvillette to kiss you slow and sweet; impassioned, ardent, each kiss an oath of love and longing and lust. 

Desire blooms like romaritime flowers upon water, and you just know the tension underneath his placid exterior, is ready to burst. It’s prevalent in the way his muscles grow taut, tense beneath your every touch, fighting to hold himself back as your legs squeeze around his hips. Demonstrated, again, by how he pulls apart your corset, impatient and haphazard as he unlaces each cross, before tossing it to the ground, forgotten. And of course, only you can attest to the searing sensations of his escalating kisses—gentle wisps, once faint and docile, now wanton and heated with depravity. 

You can already feel it in your chest, in your bones, in the wetness that’s begun to form between your legs; maybe it’s the anticipation, but despite the layers of clothing you’ve already shed, you find it even harder now to breathe, especially as he holds you so close, body pressed against yours, while he traces the bare curve of your neck with his lips. 

For one with such a carefully crafted visage of elegance and poise, Neuvillette becomes sloppier as his restraint fades and lust seeps through the cracks. Something about you drives him wild, draws out the more carnal side of him that he so desperately seeks to hide away from you, who he could never even dream of hurting. 

But perhaps he’s spent too much time amongst humans. Or perhaps he understands their nature more than he had initially believed, for he makes the most human mistake of all in letting his control slip—enough that his fangs graze upon your sensitive skin, sending a shiver that reaches all the way down to your core, eliciting a moan so mellifluous, he cannot help but utter a sigh of strained content as the undeniably sweet sound reaches his ears.

“If we don’t stop now, I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold back,” he mutters, tongue laving over the spot in apology. It doesn’t help that you voluntarily crane your neck, offering him even more access in your heated bliss. His fingers dig into your waist in a silent plea to still your rolling hips. 

“So don’t,” you breathe. “Don’t hold back tonight.” Desperate to have him closer, you arch into him, the loose material of his shirt firmly clasped in your hands, deepening the kiss with a quick tug, a silent request for him to let go, but he immediately halts his movements, pulling away in hesitance. 

Oh Neuvillette. Your sweet Neuvillette, who in spite of his stern exterior, is the gentlest of lovers—always so tender with you and steadfast in placing your pleasure before his. You know of his draconic origins, know that he holds back in fear of hurting you, but for all the times he’s pleased you to the fullest extent, you only wish to do the same for him.

Your hand reaches to cup his face and he leans into your familiar touch, steely eyes soft. “It’s okay, I trust you.”

It’s already difficult denying you anything on a normal basis, so how can he, now that you sit, straddled over him, determination colored in your bright eyes, and with nothing but flimsy cloth left between the two of you. His eyes linger at your chest, the scooping neckline of your lace slip doing nothing to hide the smooth crests of your collarbones, begging to be marked. 

Neuvillette sucks in a breath, and attempts to swallow his doubts, before exhaling. He can no longer ignore the tightness in his groin, and to you, it’s clear that the obvious erection poking from beneath his trousers, speaks much louder than the uncertainty storming in his eyes. Perhaps he just needs one more push…

Your fingers come to curve around the sharp lines of his jaw, unwavering as you tilt his head up into your gaze. “Don’t worry about me, I can take it.”

His heart threatens to leap out of his chest in a flash of excitement, gratitude, desire; it’s far from the first time you’ve lain together, but to choose to bear such vulnerability before him, to surrender yourself to a full-fledged dragon… He glides his hands over the round slopes of your shoulders, easily sliding off the straps of your slip as he goes. The silk garment collapses down your torso, piling atop your forgotten dress. 

“If that is truly what you wish…” He presses an openmouthed kiss to the bare skin between your breasts, and the warmth of his breath runs a chill even colder than the night air. His whispers hide a growl, and despite the blush apparent at the tips of his pointed ears, his hold on your waist tightens. One hand slides down to grasp at your rear, and you can feel him smile against your lips, the rattle of a faint chuckle rippling in his throat before your breath hitches as he picks you up in his arms, and carries you off to the bedroom. 

He sets you by your shared bed, tearing off his now wrinkled shirt, while you wriggle out of whatever’s left of your dress, until both sets of clothing are discarded somewhere on the floor, and you’re finally left in only your panties and your stockings.

Immediately, his hands find your waist, roaming up and down over your curves as he smothers you in hungry kisses, herding you along until the backs of your knees hit the edge of your shared bed. This Neuvillette nips at your bottom lip, not asking for, but demanding entrance into your mouth, and you have no choice but to let him in, what with the way he makes you whine as he sneaks his hands down to knead the globe of your ass, before lowering you onto the bed. 

The tingling sensations bloom in your stomach, buzzing with excitement while you ready yourself to surrender completely—pliant to his will, whatever it may be. Arousal swallows you like the sea and he has yet to even really touch you. Impatient, your hand wanders, though not far down enough before you’re caught in his grasp. 

“Patience…” he mutters, pinning your wrist beside your head, broad shoulders caging you in between him and the sheets. His other hand follows the natural lines of your body, tracing along the edges until he stops to fondle one of your breasts. 

It’s impossible to relax your speeding heart at this side of Neuvillette: less reserved in his touches, more candid in his wants. The untreated heat in your body makes sure to touch on every part of you, running like water through your veins, until you’re sure your dripping cunt is pulsing with a heart of its own. Unable to stand the ache any longer, you wriggle beneath him—rolling your hips and squirming until your knee unwittingly brushes against his crotch, eliciting a choked grunt from him, only slightly muffled by the fact that his teeth have dug their way into your exposed flesh. 

He immediately pulls away at the sound of your surprised yelp, eyes darting to and fro across your features in frantic search for even the smallest semblance of discomfort, completely missing the way your entire body had seemed to arch into his touch. His eyes finally settle at the light indentations now displayed upon your once unblemished skin.

“Forgive me,” he begins, “I should have been more careful.” Neuvillette is ever the gentleman, but his voice is clearly strained in a poor attempt at fighting back his instincts—instincts that demand a dragon to mark what is his. 

“There’s nothing to forgive.” A soft smile graces your lips as your hand reaches to cradle his face, curling around his jaw in hushed reassurance. It’s so easy to read the thoughts that plague him so. “It felt good, I promise.”

True to your word, his heightened senses easily pick up on the scent of pure arousal that drifts from between your legs, swirling in the air, and lulling him into a state he’s kept buried for so long, he’s unsure of whether he’d be able to hold himself back even if he wanted to. He admires your bravery for daring to poke at the slumbering beast; bravery he knows stems from a place of passion, but how can he release such inhibitions upon a mere human? So physically… fragile. 

“I meant what I said: I can take it. And I know you won’t hurt me so…” Your fingers clasp around his shoulders, pulling your lover down just far enough to whisper, low and sultry, in his pointed ear.

“Don’t you dare look down on me, o’ hydro dragon sovereign..” 

You lurch forward, manicured nails drawing light lines down his bare back, and he meets you halfway in a long, drawn out kiss. A quiet growl rumbles from deep within his throat, clearly aroused by the way you had drawled out his full title. He nips at your bottom lip, dragging out a single, short gasp before leaving to trail wet kisses down the column of your throat, never stopping until his lips hover over the very spot where he had previously made his mark. 

He doesn’t even have to touch you, just his presence, tangled with your own anticipatory excitement, invites a shudder so deep, you can feel it in your bones. The sharp edge of his fangs scrape along that still-sensitive patch of skin, lightly, as if testing the waters, though this time, he makes sure to take note of the quiver in your pretty little mewls. 

Slowly, he bites down again and a moan slips past your lips, forced out from the very depths of your chest as your fingers fly to tangle in his moonridden tresses. His hot breath seeps past the barrier of your skin, leaving every nerve privy to his effect, and combined with the building pressure, you’re left open for the stream of soft whimpers that leave the perfect ‘o’ of your parted lips. As he sinks his teeth deeper, you squeeze your eyes shut in the midst of all the pleasure.

“Do it again,” you gasp, “felt good… ”

And oh, he has absolutely every intention to, what with the way you’re putty underneath him. However, he must do something about how distracting your hands are when you tug at his hair: hard enough for him to groan with an ache so wanton, it sends tremors echoing down until his trousers feel far, far too tight. 

Neuvillette is neither here nor there when he alternates between kissing and sucking and biting at your tender flesh—anywhere is fair game when you’ve relinquished yourself to him like this. With how attentive his lips are along your body, you hardly even care for the absence of his hand when he reaches around to untie the ribbon in his hair… at least not until it’s too late and you're left bemused by the uncharacteristic display of boldness; after all, it’s all you can do when your wrists are suddenly so tightly bound overhead.

You whine as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, suckling and swirling his tongue, while he ravishes the other between his fingers. Heat surges through you and the aching desperation congregating in your belly begins to boil; you’ve never felt so sensitive, never been more pervasive to his touch.

Inside. You need him inside of you. But with your hands currently incapacitated, you’ve no other choice except to buck into him, beckoning him with your hips in the hopes of redirecting his attention to where you throb. 

“Inside. Please. I need you. Need you inside.” 

He hums in acknowledgement of your wishes, tugging at the hardened bud with his teeth, successfully wringing another shaky cry from your throat, before he finally pulls at the delicate lace of your panties, and guides them down the length of your legs. You easily kick them off, but in his observation, his piercing gaze catches every thrum of your muscles as they tense underneath the hand that finally trails between your thighs. He drags his lithe fingers between your folds, coating them in your slick, while his thumb rubs your clit in slow, but firm, circles. 

“My apologies for the wait.” Neuvillette kisses you right above your heart, where his acute hearing easily picks up how it palpitates as he dips his fingers into your velvet walls. “Allow me to make amends, my love.”

With the way your cunt gushes so copiously, it’s easy for him to slide all the way down to the last knuckle. He flicks his wrist, pumping fast and hard, scissoring you open before slipping in a third digit, drawing out mewl after pathetic mewl, as you fail to pull yourself together. The bedsheets twist beneath your incessant movements: simultaneously squirming not only from the initial stretch, but also to feel him deeper.

The discomfort is all too familiar, but with just the curl of his fingers, it washes away into unadulterated pleasure, just as it always does. But with your arms tethered, leaving you open and powerless, everything—every touch, every twist, every curl—feels tenfold.

Plus, no one would even believe you if you were to say that the chief justice had such a playful side in the bedroom; his fingers have explored your insides far too many times for him to just miss the little spot that he definitely knows by muscle memory. Whining, you buck your hips, senselessly grinding into his hand, hoping he’d get the message, hoping he’d quell your heat right at the source. 

But something dangerous and wild and primordial shines in the blue-violet glow of his eyes. For all the times you’ve made love together, he’s never seen you like this: so desperate, so needy for him. He pinches a nipple, hard, before locking your jolting hips down; a show of strength to remind you of your place. 

“Please, more.” Your voice rises in congruence with how you struggle against your ribbon-bound wrists. His fingers tease the spot again, this time with more force, and he watches as you keen and clench around him—helpless and at his mercy. 

With a curl, his fingers crook inside your silken walls, pistoning in and out, fast and hard. Arousal continues to build, turning the low squelches into distinct suctions. Every nerve in your body is ignited, seared by the heat as he laps at the overflowing wetness that seeps out of your entrance. A satisfied purr sounds in his throat, and the vibrations dare your hips to buck in spite of the iron grip that holds you down.  

It thrills him to see you steadily fall apart like this, coming so undone before him, dissolving under the weight of your pleasure. It’s just as you had wanted. More. So you can take it, can’t you? You can take more? 

Neuvillette slots your throbbing clit into his mouth, hot tongue relentlessly striking the swollen nub with viscous lashes, while his fingers continue to bully your insides with no intention of slowing down. Sucking harder, fucking faster—you keen at the added stimulation, back arching clean off the bed in blinding pleasure, unable to do anything more than let out jagged sobs as you cum.

Your entire body grows taut as he sees you through the end of this high, before finally drawing out with one last sleight of his hand, so that his fingertips might graze along the velvet top of your walls, bidding farewell with another shudder-inducing wave of euphoria. He exits his soiled digits, clearly pleased as he inspects the amount of slick that coats his elegant hand. 

“You’re absolutely divine.” He hums whilst licking up the side of his wrist, so as not to waste a single drop of your liquid pleasure. It’s intoxicating how exquisite you are, more decadent than even the most pristine of waters. “Perhaps you’d like a taste?”

His offer is rhetorical at best, as he answers for you, already slipping his slender fingers into your open mouth, tangling them with your tongue, until the first bits of drool begin to dribble from your lips. 

He unties your wrists, releasing them from the ribbon’s hold; time and experience have proven that you’ll need something to grasp onto. In a haste, Neuvillette discards what remains of his clothes, and his cock springs forward in all its glory: long and thick, pale tip leaking and thrumming with desire. 

“You’re absolutely sure… ?” he mumbles, voice trailing off, almost embarrassed. He can no longer control the way his hips twitch in excitement, begging to bury his cock into your warmth, but for his gentle heart’s sake, he needs to hear you say it again.

You laugh out a soft ‘yes’ but just for good measure, you rake your nails down his chest, applying just enough pressure to tickle his nerves. “Use me,” you goad. “Come on. Be wicked, my dragon.” 

Neuvillette exhales, chuckling softly at humanity's arrogance. Wicked dragon. If that was what you wanted... “I wonder if you’d still say the same after I’ve finished with you.”

He pins you back down in one fell move, and aligns himself to your entrance, stopping after inserting only the tip. A delicate whimper leaves your lips as you wince at that familiarly sweet stretch, but you and your little cunt are both so eager to please—the continued arousal you churn out, weeping nonstop, and already clenching around just his cockhead. You wriggle into him, trying to fuck yourself deeper on his fat cock as you adjust to his size. 

Reaching up, you pull him into a seemingly reassuring kiss, hands smoothing over the framing pieces of his hair, before curving around his jaw. His lips follow yours, but as you pull away and the short pieces of his hair fall back into place, you notice how his slitted reptilian pupils are dilated almost round. 

“You wish for me not to hold back,” his voice comes in a low growl as he inches further into your cunt, “so please show me how resilient you are.”

It’s all the warning you receive before he slides the rest of his length to the hilt, burying himself in your creamy insides. A shattered sob tears through the room, and your arms fly around his neck in a desperate attempt to anchor yourself, but it only pulls him closer as he leans more of his weight into you, pressing down and reinforcing the heavy plow of his merciless hips. 

Taking him all at once like this burns like wildfire. Pain from the sudden, rough stretch spreads hot and fast, the small embers bursting into a blaze of arousal as pleasure breezes through just as quickly—like air infinitely adding to an already devouring flame. 

“You’re taking me so well,” he praises, turning his head to reward a small kiss to your cheek. Your hole gushes, rushing to quell the heat, and the added lubrication helps you settle into his pace. Still, the dual sensations wash over you like the tide. It pulls you under, drowns you and consumes you with absolute ecstasy.

And just when you think you’ve grown accustomed, Neuvillette lifts your hips, aiming for the spot he knows will drag out the most wonderfully broken cries from your throat. Your nails dig into his back, and he groans at the vice grip as you clamp down around his cock. With each powerful thrust, he buries himself balls deep with a force that has your tits bouncing along to his rhythm, letting the wanton sound of your sobs ring throughout the room, loud enough to almost drown out the lewd noise of skin slapping upon skin. 

The coil in your belly is wound so tight that you’re sure it won’t be long until it collapses into itself. That it won’t be long until you yourself are about to implode, like a star ready to burst. 

“I’m going… going to…” Between the ragged breaths and the overwhelming sensations of ecstasy, you can’t even find it in yourself to think straight.

Neuvillette hums, his liquid smooth voice doing nothing to hide his amusement. “You’d do well not to break so soon.”

He thumbs your clit, drawing tight circles, ignoring the way you convulse beneath him. As your back arches, he drags the flat of his teeth from the edges of your collarbones, down through the valley between your breasts. 

Your entire body quivers, legs jolting by reflex to the intensity of your orgasm, vision blurring white as your lover continues to pound relentlessly through your high. There’s a layer of fuzziness over your mind that leaves you feeling as if you’re floating atop calm waters, but the fingers still thrumming on your abused nub are quick to drag you back into the salaciously dangerous depths of your own pleasure. 

A string of pitched whines follow in the aftermath, but the pretty noises you make has him throbbing even from within your tight hole. You ask him not to hold back, yet here you are before him, so small and pitiful, already writhing from the intensity—and he hasn’t even cum yet. 

Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, your body struggling for a break from the stimulation, but Neuvillette finds it quite adorable, in the way that a predator might toy with its prey. He slows his thrusts, but reaches deeper with every roll of his hips, each languid stroke hitting the exact spot that fills your sight with stars. 

The lascivious sounds of your soaked cunt perfectly swallowing his cock, followed by the slap of his heavy balls on your ass—he’s mesmerized by the way he disappears and reappears, and disappears again inside of you. His heart skips, and he bucks, breaking his rhythm. You undo him like no other, and it spurs him on that he too, seems to have the same effect on you. The way your pussy holds on to him so tightly, the helpless cries of his name amidst your hiccuped whimpering… 

He lets out a small chuckle, breath hot and ragged in your ear as he sucks at the inch of skin below. “Surely you can give me another,” he murmurs, the low grumble of his voice reverberating all the way down, until you can feel the vibrations in the hollows of your collarbone. 

Your eyes flutter, desperately blinking away the wetness that has begun to gather at your lash line. Sweet Neuvillette, your Neuvillette who reveres you more than he ought to and touches you like you’re made of glass. Even through the numbing haze, you know that for him, you’d give anything. 

A long, stuttered moan breaks out from between your lips. As if biding his time, he drags the entirety of his cock along your walls, the large vein that wraps around the length gliding along just right, that your back arches and your knees bend. It’s not that he means to move so tortuously slow, but you squeeze him to such an extent that in spite of his aching need to cum, he cannot help but try and savor the delicious way your walls are gripping for dear life. 

Neuvillette pulls out with the sticky squish of your slick. His throbbing cock, long and flushed, glistens with the sheen of your juices. In the emptiness, you think that perhaps he’s taken pity on you and your now overly sensitive cunt, but that just isn’t fair. Not to him, nor you and your once again looming orgasm.

“You haven’t even cum yet,” you gasp, trying to argue through baited breath. The whole point of this was so that he could feel just as good as he always made sure you did. So why would he—

“I know.” 

You can feel him as he lifts you, flipping you over like you’re nothing more than a doll, and manhandles you onto all fours. Limbs weak, mind frazzled, you’re barely able to hold yourself up, so when he realigns himself at your entrance and slams back through your folds with just as much power as before, you quite literally fall apart. 

“Too much?” The low chuckle in your ear is dangerously taunting, wickedly amused and with no sign of its usual sweetness. You’re able to muster a pitiful whine, but the way your entire body trembles tells him everything he needs to know, as he reangles you mid-thrust.

“I believe you said you could take it.” With a particularly powerful snap of his hips, your arms buckle, and you collapse onto the mattress. The intensity continues to send you jolting forward, but his reaffirmed grip on your waist holds your hips in place.

Nothing deters him as he ruts into you, hitting deep new angles that have your fingers grasping at the sheets while your cunt grasps onto his cock. With every slap of his skin against yours, his tip threatens to kiss your cervix, the aftershocks rippling through you until they’re released as broken sobs, muffled into the bed. 

How unfortunate that such noises, so very sweet to his ears, would be hidden from the world. Tangling his fingers along your scalp, Neuvillette tugs at your hair, lifting your head back so as to hear the pretty melody you sing when your cries ring around the room. Good. Just as the whole of Fontaine should recognize a dragon’s mark on your skin, they too should hear it’s he who pleasures your body so.

Little bits of drool trickle out of your open mouth, your eyes rolling back as he keeps up the brutal pace. Everything feels too overwhelming, yet so tantalizingly good, that your back curves and you’re creaming around him again. 

Electricity shoots through your veins, your lungs desperately racing to catch up with the rapid beat of your heart. The stars painted across your vision drop down to your stomach, exploding with an intensity that rattles you to your core. It’s a flood with no remorse—taking and leaving nothing in return, easily washing away any and all thoughts, until you’re left mewling the name of the only one who could ever give you such a sweet taste of heaven. 

But Neuvillette continues to thrust into you, and as he, too, nears his peak, his tireless strokes finally melt into something a little more forgiving. Just a little. The long drag of his cock slides so smoothly against your slick walls, gentle enough to fool your delirious mind into loosening your grip around him. 

What trickery from the wicked dragon who slams his hips forward with enough force so that your body jostles with every push and pull as he hits all the right spots again and again. Trapped under the weight of his body, all you can do is feel: the heat of the room smothering all your senses, the fervorous thrusts pushing you to your very limit—all you can do is feel and take it as he kisses the spongy head of your cervix, leaving you without a semblance of sanity, blabbering indiscernible nothings that beg to milk him dry.       

“Want more,” you keen, voice as broken as the crystalline tears that roll down your cheeks and melt into the pillows. “Inside. Wan’ it inside.”

Neuvillette laughs, low and airy, strained as his grip tightens, fingertips digging into your hips hard enough that it’d be sure to leave bruises come the morrow. “Is that what you want?”

“Please, please I–” You stop to let out something between a pant and a moan. “Want you to, h-hah, cum inside, wan’ your cum inside me.” Your walls clamp down even harder, as if attempting to trap his cock deep inside you forever, as if you weren’t already tight enough around him. 

White fills his vision, and white fills your womb as Neuvillette cums to the knowledge that you love this. He takes in the sight of you, his precious treasure, now reduced to the likes of a common whore: legs quivering, ass in the air, cunt filled to the brim and leaking from where the two of you merge. All for him. By his doing. 

Such splendor automatically evokes the instinct to claim you in a way far beyond that of human understanding… but you’ve already let him indulge more than enough tonight; he couldn’t possibly ask for more. 

You whimper when you feel him stir again inside you, careful as he brushes past your too-sensitive folds, but even such simple movements hazard to relight the flicker of arousal once again. Every ridge and vein, drawn out so agonizingly slow, sends an inadvertent shiver down your spine until he finally pulls out with a squelch.  

There’s no hope in tearing those sharp, reptilian eyes away from your puffy cunt, abused and messy and leaking with your combined fluids. Neuvillette sucks in a breath, trying to suppress his urges as much as he’s trying to swallow down the desire quickly boiling over in his belly again. Cumming inside you—no, breeding you—was a privilege. For dragons such as he, it’s a ritual reserved only for mates, and given the difference in your physiology, he had never allowed himself to do so—at least not until now, that is. 

In his defense, you had begged for it, and how could he ever deny the very one whom he has entrusted his heart to—especially when you were so beautifully fucked out and unraveled on his cock like that. And perhaps he’s lived among humans long enough to forgive this indulgence as a paradigm of fleeting desire, though nothing of what he feels for you could ever be considered fleeting. 

He parts your folds with two slender fingers, giving himself a better view as his cum now seeps out with suent access. You whine again when you feel him drag his digits down the sides of your pussy lips, catching the overflow before it can fall onto the sheets, and stuffing it right back into your little hole. No point in stopping now, if he’s already committed his sin.

From your half-lidded gaze, you manage to steal a glance at your lover, and judging from the erection that still stands stiff as a rod, he has yet to be satiated. In the attempt to break through the shadow of delirium, you lift your head, shifting your weight back onto your elbows, and forcing your battered body to turn just the slightest bit over. 

“You’re still hard,” you note through staggered breath, “We can go again if you want.”

Neuvillette looks down as if he hasn’t already been feeling the near painful arousal throbbing in his groin. Of course he’s still hard—how could he not be; you’re so complacent before him, offering yourself to him like that. But perhaps he is too soft-hearted, for he only lets out a reassuring hum as he leans forward to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“You were beyond perfect tonight,” he murmurs. “It… might not be pleasurable for you if I continue anymore. I can finish myself.” 

Lovestruck, you shake your head. “I can take it r’member?” Your large eyes, red-rimmed and dreamy, plead for him to use you—use you to his own content, use you so that he’d feel just as good as he always makes you feel. You nibble at your bottom lip, bashful. “You can even use your other form if you'd like...” 

Your words catch him off guard, and he immediately stills in a half-hearted attempt to collect himself as another wave of pure, unadulterated desire pulses through his entire being. Neuvillette swallows hard before letting out a slow, shaky breath. His cock twitches and his muscles tense beneath the creamy skin that now seems to gleam with a soft shine, revealing scattered patches of effervescent cerulean scales. You affect him more than you could possibly know, revitalizing such carnal urges that ignore his will and allow his body to react so enthusiastically.

“You’re sure…?” His normally polished tone is husked in a defiant strain. Despite the way his pupils are blown wide and wild with lust, conflict still swims in the shallows of his expression, made clear by the way his voice rasps as he desperately claws to retain even a semblance of his composure. 

The tips of your fingers trace the blue streaks that protrude from the crown of his silver head, now hardened into twin ribbons of ivory; his horns, delicate but strong, glow a luminescent azure—so warm and inviting in its radiance… You grasp them tight, pulling him down with you, as you fall back into the bed, his lips pressed against yours. Of course you’re sure. He’d never hurt you, your Neuvillette would never ever hurt you.

“Devious…” he whispers between kisses, your tongue and teeth clashing in a waltz of their own, as his body drapes over yours. 

It’s not the first time you’ve seen him in this form, crossed somewhere between a human and a dragon, as beautiful as he is powerful. But it’s certainly the first time you’ve ever attempted to take him like this. He’s bigger in this form—you can already feel it as he grinds up between your legs. Longer. Thicker. Ribbed and embossed with the same pearlescent blue scales. Beautifully intimidating, just like the dragon sovereign himself. 

And as you continue to marvel, he lets his cock rest across your lower stomach, sizing you up. His fervor shines through in the way he’s already leaking a mess of sticky precum atop the smooth skin of your belly. A satisfied hum vibrates in his throat, clearly enthused. 

“This is how deep I’ll be,” he muses, almost apologetic of the incoming stretch you’d have to endure. “I’m beginning to wonder if I can even fit inside you.” 

Would it be wicked of him to admit, even to himself, that he enjoys the way you wriggle and cry just taking him in his human form? And yet… he’s forced to steady his breathing in a poor attempt at grounding himself—a task near impossible as you roll your hips up, ardently shaking your head no, outright ignoring the last out he offers.

“I will… make it fit.” They’re the last words you manage to wrangle out before being overtaken by the need to be full and filled. There’s no reason you should be so terribly, terribly hollow, when he’s right there. Neuvillette chokes back a laugh; your unyielding determination sends blood rushing to his erection, desperate to feel your velvet walls crowd around him again.

Finally relenting, he teases your entrance—running his cock up and down your slit, spreading your wetness, before slapping your clit with the tip—reminding you just how sensitive you still are. Gasping, you jerk away from the stimulation that once again taunts your nerves. Your hole, however, clenches around nothing, eager to please. 

But perhaps you’ve greatly underestimated just how big he is, because he barely makes it past the threshold of your folds, before the pleasure pain of the stretch begins to take over. That, and the overstimulation from your previous orgasms, already have you instinctively trying to snap your legs shut, but the firm hold on your thighs forbid you from doing so.

“Ha-ah N-neuvi—” A twisted sense of pride swells in his chest at the way you can hardly speak as your breath hitches and your lungs desperately search for air. “’s too big,” you sob.

He gives you a momentary reprieve to adjust, while his hand snakes down to run sloppy circles over your clit.

“More?” he whispers. 

It takes you a minute to respond, but he waits until finally your voice shakes with the violence of each hiccupped sob. “More.. please…”

A baritone hum sounds in his throat as he pulls forward, pressing wet kisses to your jaw in a quiet reassurance, effectively sliding a couple inches deeper, as he does so. “You can take it, my love. You’re so pretty like this.”

Your arms wrap around his neck, your hold eliciting a long, low groan from the dragon. Wherever you squirm, he follows, pressing more of his weight onto you, burying more of his cock into you. Each ridged inch that slides past your folds, seems to push the thoughts right out of your head, letting them dissipate into thin air until you’re left mindlessly moaning sweet praises to his name. 

Desperate to accommodate the unfamiliar enormity of his dragon cock, your walls ripple and tense around him, back arching into him, wanting to feel ever closer to the love of your life, determined to push your cunt to its limit for him. For your Neuvillette. 

Neuvillette. Neuvillette. Neuvillete. He’s all you can think about; him and his monster cock that seems to split you so deliciously open. It’s wave after wave of heat that sets your insides ablaze, soothed by the waters of arousal that have you begging for more, and restarting the cycle until he finally bottoms out, and you feel as if you’ve been electrified. You squeeze your eyes shut, but with the way his bulbous tip prods at your cervix, your mind goes blank, and the tears fall regardless. 

“There…” you pant, eyes glassy from the euphoria of feeling so incredibly full. “’s all in.”

“Yes,” he praises, softly. “Look at you, so nice and tight for me.” 

He wipes the salt from your cheeks, distracting you with a delicate kiss. His fangs are more prominent in this form; you can feel them as he grins against your lips, whilst whispering breathy nothings that tell of how good you are for him, how perfect, how he should be so lucky to have you like this, to have you as his. 

When your body eases enough, he pulls away, though the subtle shift of his cock still drags a pitched whine out from your lips. If he’s to be honest, he cannot tear his gaze from where the two of you are joined. It’s mesmerizing, hypnotic, to see how he splits you open, to feel how you mold into the shape of him, to imagine just how much your little cunt had to stretch so that he might rest comfortably inside.

Though, comfortable might be an overstatement due to the way your muscles tense and release so tightly around him, clamoring for more of his attention.  Eyes darkening with lust, Neuvillette smooths a hand over your abdomen, cerulean scales cold upon your skin.

“Can you feel me right…” He draws a clawed finger delicately across the skin of your belly, where his cock rests parallel underneath. “Here…”

He leaves more than just a faint line of red where his talon rakes. Yes, you want to say. You can feel the faint prickle of his claw on your skin, you can feel how the sharpness sends a shiver ringing through your body, and of course you can feel how he’s sheathed his dragon cock right into the very depths of your cunt, deeper than anyone’s ever been, deeper than he’s ever been… But the only sounds that spill through your lips are another stream of broken sobs, fever touched by how close you are to cumming just from being filled.

“Go on, darling. Cum for me.” He can feel you pulsing around him, clenching and unclenching in search of sweet release, yet he makes no additional moves to help you, leaving you to your own devices.

At this point, you can no longer tell if you’re making things better or worse, as every little movement knocks you into reaction—like dominoes toppling over until every piece of you has been unraveled. You writhe atop the soiled sheets for any sort of friction, but it’s too much when his tip knocks against the entrance to your womb. So you shift away, letting the ridges on his shaft graze against your syruped walls, inciting another wave of need. The scales continue to tip between ‘too much’ and ‘more’, until you finally work yourself into a delirious orgasm, on nothing but his cock inside you and your own incessant squirming. 

As you continue to ride out your high, Neuvillete finally begins to move, tearing himself away from your fluttering vice grip with a tremulous moan, because fuck you’re still so tight around him, still so warm and wet even after cumming for what? The fourth time tonight? Pressure lands heavy over your frame as he begins to rock into you, folding you in half as he does. 

He fucks you slow and even, stretching you out even more with every new stroke. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as this new position affords him the privilege to reach impossibly deeper. Despite his shallow thrusts, each drag of his cock still blooms an ache from all the hidden spots that he has no choice but to touch, though it’s quick to pass, as pleasure continues to coil in your belly. 

It’s so much all at once. You can’t take it, it’s too much. But the soul-shattering euphoria of being so utterly full, is unparalleled. You want more, you need more.   

“My pearl,” he whispers, though his voice is gruff, “my heart… I want to hear you.” 

And so you oblige him, wailing something broken and pitched and strangled, at the sudden snap of his hips, at the way he bumps into your cervix and seems to rattle your organs about. 

“F-fuck,” you cry, without thinking. Not that you can anyway, when the push-pull tide of his thrusts raises you to new heights of delirium. “H-ah god, fuck Neu–”

Another sharp, jutting thrust cuts you off as the dragon above you snarls, clearly agitated by your crass choice of words. “There are no gods to help you here.” Not in Fontaine where he rules, and certainly not here in his home.

There’s a feral wildness that shines in his bright vishap eyes, and his possessive streak flares—dragons have no natural inclination to share after all. It’s clear in the way his pace changes: faster, harsher, more ragged—a ferocity befitting of an elemental dragon ruler. But titles aside, he’s still your Neuvillette, and every move he makes is still laced with a tenderness, so as not to break you more than he already has. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” he commands, dragging his tongue up the length of your throat.

“Yours. ‘m yours, Neuvillette.”

In and out, in and out. His long strokes guide the ridges of his cock back and forth through your tender muscles, leaving you to mumble mindless nonsense as you convulse and keen beneath him. Whatever pain you had felt earlier has long chipped away into undeniable pleasure as you near the precipice of yet another orgasm. Eyes glazed over in all consuming ecstasy, all you know to do is to chase your lust, and so your hips grind back, rolling together like waves in a storm. 

Amidst the flagrant wet sounds of your rabid fucking, you cum again, lashes fluttering as your eyes roll, muscles tight as they tremble from such rapture—so lovely, so beautiful. Your siren call of pretty cries spill from your lips, intermingled with weak babbles of his name. You’re so breathtaking like this in your post-climax haze: fucked out and cloudy-eyed, panting into the cool air as his slowed thrusts still rack up an aftershock of shudders.

Neuvillette bows his head, once again trailing wet kisses across your collarbones, before pausing to hover his lips right over the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his warm breath a familiar spot of comfort in this maddening pleasure. Perhaps it’s some sort of sixth sense unique to only the most attuned of lovers, ones whose souls seem to harmonize in perfect resonance, but there’s hesitance in the way he suckles at the spot, fangs ghosting over your tender skin.

“S’okay… you can do it.” Your soft, dreamy sighs of approval are accompanied by the languid tilt of your neck, jeopardizing more of your delicate skin to the dangers of his teeth. “You can mark me… w’nna be your mate…”

Choking back a moan, Neuvillette pistons thrice more into your cunt—pulling out until just his tip remains, and then plunging back into your gooey insides, sending you into another round of dizzying convulsions. His own orgasm follows, seeing stars as he places an amorous bite to the crook of your neck using only the flat of his teeth. 

With how deep he’s buried, ribbons of his cum shoot right into your womb, spilling out into every cavity, and painting your interior white. Warmth blossoms from the inside out. Your heart is full, mumbling happy nothings of ‘mates’ in between sniffles, while a creamy ring forms around the base of his cock, thick liquid oozing from where he ends and you begin. His own chest rises and falls in jagged patterns, but his only want is to seek your lips, to drink in your mewls, and exchange sweet kisses, so that your soul and his, may meld together as they dance in the shape of your breaths intertwined.

He strokes your hair, planting easy kisses all around as he unplugs himself, letting loose the flood of cum that seeps out of your hole, but you whine at the loss, wanting nothing more than to be ever close to your newly consummated mate. Neuvillette only nuzzles into your neck, deep purrs of content reverberating from his chest as he lazily rubs his scent all over you. Meanwhile, a quick swish of his sapphire tail up the sticky underside of your thigh, teases another pulse from your cunt, and by reflex, you push out another dollop of white. 

A small tap tap to his shoulder distracts him from his scenting, and he looks up with a tilt to his head and a small furrow to his brow, his normally sharp eyes full of earnest concern, relaxing only once he finishes reading through the bleary, dulcet tones of adoration that glow in your half-lidded eyes. You poorly suppress your little giggles—although he often disagrees, your lover really can be quite adorable. 

Fontaine’s Iudex Neuvillette is elegant, poised, and meticulously polished… but here in the quiet night hours, in the privacy of your hearth, your Neuvillette is unruly-haired and damp-skinned from satiating the beastly desires of his still tender heart. You reach out a tired arm, first brushing back the pieces of hair that cling to his skin, then wrapping your palm around to cup his face. 

“Was I a good mate?” Your hand slips down from his cheek to play with the tips of his silvery hair. “W’nna be the best for you.”

“You already are the best for me.” His hand, no longer clawed nor scaled, brings yours back up for a kiss to your knuckles. “The only one for me.” 

He rolls off of you, sweeping you into his embrace, as he carries you off to the bathroom. Your head rests heavily against his chest, but your happy hums and quiet murmurs of ‘good,’ tell him that you have not drifted off into slumber just yet.  

“You truly are a wonder,” he breathes, dipping his head to place a soft kiss to your forehead. “And it would be my honor to have you as my mate… but not tonight.”

His instincts had urged him to do it, to permanently claim you as his, and mark you as a dragon would, but his heart vehemently disagrees. The most sacred bond known to his kind is an ultimatum in your relationship, and it is one he refuses to be the sole architect of, so perhaps the two of you can revisit this conversation again once you’re more clear-headed; his answer would remain the same anyways.

edit 10/2024: please Do Not Follow this blog after reading this fic. this is mainly a selfship digi-diary with VERY occasional writing, thanks.

notes2: writing this took years off my life, but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless ! as always, thank u sm for reading, and reblogs + feedback are very much appreciated ♡

notes3: here is a little visual of how i imagine the dress at the beginning to look like, but of course you can always imagine it however you like since i’ve purposely left it rather vague : )

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

[sweetnans]

What do you think Bakugo’s reaction will be to a reader who cant stop looking at his buttons, cause like dude HE LOOKS SO HOT WITH THE WHOLE NO TIE AND UNBUTTONED UNIFORM THING HE DOES HOLY

I do love it when you ask me about my opinion. We all know that Bakugo is not an idiot. He notices right away when your gaze lingers for more time than you usually do (and that you usually allow yourself to)

You are gathered in the common area, and most of your classmates are dozing off on the couch, a few of them talk about the day while the others stay in silence with their eyes close almost drifting to sleep

His presence doesn't go unnoticed for you when he claims a seat in front of you. He has a magazine on his hands with the headline that says something about the ten top heroes with the best outstanding battles each.

You don't plan to watch him like he's your prey. He would never be the prey of anyone, but you still can't help but look at him intensely. He's got something weird on him. You can't quite decipher what it is.

The days are warm, and a heat wave settled in the city, so everyone has been peeling off layers of clothes through the day.

The sun is setting right behind him, and a cold shiver comes through your spine. Spring days are weird. There must be a window open because there's a sudden breeze of cold air coming in from somewhere. You hug yourself and mentally curse because of the lack of reasoning you had to take your cardigan off preventing a heat stroke.

Bakugo is still reading his magazine, impassive. He's smarter than you obviously, and he did not peel his clothes off when the sun started shining, but he did something, he took off his tie and unbuttoned the first three button of his shirt.

God damned you.

You've been too busy focusing on the flies that now the mere fact of him doing something so mundane like coping the warmthest days of all hot you all flustered in your seat.

You can't react like that just for the sake of it.

"Oi" he grunts. "Quit fucking staring you creep"

There's no nonchalant way to save yourself from this.

"I'm sorry," you mumble. You weren't going to argue because it will carry a long tiff between the two of you, and just by the sight of his skin, you know you'll be out of words in a second.

"So you, in fact, had been staring at me like a damn creep," he says, not even taking his eyes off his lecture.

As you foreseen it, you are out of words.

"It's not every day that you get so free about how you wear what you wear in front of us," you tiptoe in your words, and it comes out more like a tongue-twister.

"Hah?" Now he lowers his magazine to stare at you.

The statement in front of us pales because there is no one around you. It's just you and your half digged grave. The colors rise to your cheeks, and suddenly, the couch is not deep enough for you to disappear.

How can you come clean when he catches you being a psycho and an hormonal bitch?

"Nothing, I just -" you stumble in your own words, trying to dissipate the tension while your braing tries to come up with a better idea than running away.

"Quit that shit, if you're staring me, I want you to say it to my face, what's your fucking deal with me?"

In a matter of seconds, he's right in front of you. A big scowl on his face fumed from reading the room wrongly. Poor and emotionally constipated Bakugo, he wouldn't realize your big and fat crush on him even if you tear your heart out in front of him.

His face is now inches from yours, trying to read your factions, but he only sees that you're laughing at him. The unbuttoned shirt is now under your gaze with the skin showing right in front of your nose.

The way he's looking at you is making you mad and flustered. You don't know what force possesses you, but when you roll your eyes at him, you know something big is coming.

"You can be so fucking dense sometimes, jeez, I was staring at you because I fucking like you, damn"

The two of you stay static. You because what the fuck was that and him because he couldn't believe what was listening.

Squirming, you grab his arms that caged you a while ago and move them from their position to slide out of the couch and hopefully leave the country.

Unfortunately, you don't even reach the stairs when he's pulling you backward.

"You said what?" He pronounces very clearly. Not grunting, not mumbling.

"What you heard. You push me to say it, walking around like a bitch wearing your shirt like that and-

Silence.

His firm lips crash with yours in a quick and tender kiss. You are speechless. Probably your face shows more than you're capable to describe.

"Fucking heat waves" he smirks at you and your astonished state.

[bbydoll18xx]

I've Got a Wand and a Rabbit

Paige stumbles into a sex shop you work at, and you give her some satisfactory customer service.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.6k

Themes: sex toys, masturbation, and sex mentioned

A/N: hii so I thought of this idea when I was lounging in my pool and I kinda love it. I have a few ideas for a second part if you guys are up for it

~

“That’ll be 49.95,” you say brightly, your customer service voice on full display, as you carefully wrap an eight inch glass dildo up and put it in a bag. Your customer, a tall, muscular man with shifty eyes and a baseball hat hanging low over his face, quickly swiped his card, avoiding eye contact with you, as you finished the transaction. 

“Have a great day!” You call as he rushes out of the store and into his large pickup truck. 

Ah. The joys of dealing with the closeted ones. It was certainly more appealing than the creepy straight dudes who offered to take you home and prove to you that the vibrators that adorned the entire back wall of the store were not as good as their own dicks. 

That was fucking bullshit.

You had prided yourself in being open with both your sexuality and the joys of sexual pleasure since you were old enough to know what it entailed. And you were not shy about sex or masturbation. It was a totally normal thing. 

You have often referred to yourself as The Fairy Godmother of Orgasms. Each of your friends had been given a vibrator sometime during college, with subtle instructions to learn how to make themselves cum. Because men just aren’t up for the job these days.

So when you picked up a job at the newest, trendiest sex store just outside of Storrs to help make some extra money for school, it seemed like all of the stars aligned. 

You shake your head, giggling at the hilarity of the man’s sheer discomfort and apply a layer of lip gloss to your full, pink lips. There were a few customers lingering in the store but it had been pretty quiet today, as it was the middle of the week. 

A few minutes later, the jinging of the bell on the door alerts you to a group of girls giggling loudly, faces blushing in a way that you had become quite accustomed to seeing in the store. 

College students were your favorite customers, as you loved seeing young women being open about having fun and safe sex lives, and you wave warmly at them.

“Hi there! Just let me know if you have any questions!” You chirp, sending a wink over to the tall blonde girl whose cheeks were the brightest shade of red in the group.

Her face darkens, spreading down the pale skin of her neck as the other girls shove her teasingly, and she almost falls into a rack of lingerie.

Muttering an apology, she fixes the rack, running her hand across her face, glancing back at you before running after her friends where they had assembled in the back of the store. 

Her bumbling behavior amuses you, and it was so unlike her.

You had recognized her from the second she had walked in. Paige Bueckers face was plastered all over UConn’s campus, and you were a victim of the tiktok edits bombarding your phone.

You were a willing victim at that.

Paige was not just a great basketball player. She was also incredibly kind and unusually humble. It also did not help that she was gorgeous, and you were not ashamed to admit that you had thought about those long, nimble fingers and her muscled thighs from time to time. 

Or maybe a little more than that. 

You are pulled out of your increasingly naughty thoughts by loud laughs, and you look over to where KK Arnold is holding up a huge purple dildo.

“Paige, I think this would be perfect for you!” She snorts, sending the other girls into a fit of howls.

You chuckle, putting a hand over your mouth as you observe Paige’s obvious embarrassment from behind the counter.

“God, KK, could you be any louder,” Paige mutters, eyes flickering to where you were pretending not to watch. “Shoulda just bought this shit online.”

“That’s no fun,” Aubrey says, gazing at the section of strap ons with an interested look on her face. 

The bickering continues for a few minutes, with Ice Brady and Aubrey occasionally making a few comments before you decide to go over to the group.

“Is there anything you’re looking for in particular today?” You ask. “I know the selection can be a bit…overstimulating.” You bite your lip as you finish your sentence, inwardly cringing at your provocative choice of words. 

Paige coughs, and KK erupts into another fit of laughter, and before the blonde could even form a word, KK says, “Home girl needs a nice vibrator. She is very single, and the ol’ right hand just ain’t cuttin’ it anymore.”

“Dude, oh my god,” Paige groans, hands once more shielding her face. 

“I totally understand how that is,” you say sympathetically. “Let me show you our most popular vibrators.”

You reach for Paige’s hand, somewhat surprised as she allows you to take it, and you guide her to the back wall. 

“Now this one is a classic. They call it a rabbit because of the cute lil bunny ears, which is great for the clit. And it has a dildo attached, so it’s a two in one type of deal.”

You look up at Paige, trying to gauge her reaction, and she looks completely stunned. Blushing, you put down the brightly colored toy. “I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable at all.”

“No, not at all,” Paige mumbles, a far cry from her usual confidence. “This is all just new to me.”

You nod understandingly. 

“This one might be more your speed. It’s called a wand, and it’s perfect for beginners. Not much of a learning curve for this one,” you say, holding out the box for her to inspect. 

The wand was purple and small enough to throw in a discrete bag, and with a rechargeable battery and its waterproofness, it was a fan favorite. 

“Alright, I think I’ll try this one then,” Paige says, her voice a little more sanguine as the initial embarrassment of buying a sex toy wore off. 

Aubrey, KK, and Ice erupt into loud cheers and a round of applause, and Paige responds by giving them the middle finger.

“You guys are hilarious. You should come in more often,” you laugh.

“Maybe I will if you’re working,” Paige responds, looking you up and down. 

It was your turn to blush, her sudden boldness surprising you, and your heart rate jumps at the idea. 

Paige follows you over to the checkout counter, where you ring up the toy, adding your employee discount for good measure before bagging it up and handing it to her, your fingers brushing up against hers as you do so. The contact sends shivers through your body, and you immediately think of your own toys waiting for you in your bedside drawer. 

You were really going to fucking need them after this shift. 

“Have fun. If you ever have any questions, you know where to find me,” you tease, not wanting this to be the last you see of her.

“I will,” Paige responds, sending you a cheeky wave before leaving, her friends in tow.

“She will definitely be back, don’t worry!” KK exclaims, before Paige pulls her out of the store by the hood of her sweatshirt.

You certainly hoped so.

~

Life continued on the next few weeks as normal. You went to work. You went to class. And you spent even more time with your legs spread thinking about Paige. 

You didn’t necessarily mean for it to happen; it just did. If her face was not completely clouding your thoughts before she had stumbled into the store, it was now. Even your dreams were swirled with images of that long blonde hair and her mouth, her tongue peaking out seductively.

And because you were quite single, you had turned to the toys. 

You were walking through campus, eagerly heading back to your apartment after your lecture so you could enjoy yet another solo session, when you spot Paige, KK, and Jana walking up to you.

KK was leading the charge, enthusiastically waving to get your attention, whilst Paige was trailing behind, a shy smile on her face.

“Well look who it is!!” KK teases, introducing you to Jana, who had a knowing look on her face. She reaches a hand out to you. “I’ve heard lots about you,” she smirks in Paige’s direction, who rolls her eyes.

You wave at the blonde, eyes crinkling from the sun and the excitement of seeing her again. “Sooo,” you trail. “Any issues with it?” 

The question was vague, but all three girls seemed to know exactly what you were referring to, and Paige flushes yet again. She looks at the other two girls, shooting them harsh looks until they hesitantly walk away from the two of you, leaving you with the privacy you were dying to have.

Paige coughs. “Um, I haven’t really been able to figure it out, ya know?”

You try not to laugh. “What’s there to figure out? Just turn it on and go to town.” 

“I tried,” she nearly whines, clearly embarrassed.

“And?” You prod, confused as to what she was so obviously missing.

“I couldn’t, ya know, finish,” she mumbles, looking at you with a small pout.

You wanted to kiss the pout right off those lips. 

“Need some help then? I’m kind of a professional,” you suggest boldly, hoping she was feeling the electricity flowing between you. 

“God, yes,” she breathes. 

It was all over from there. 

~

If anyone was wondering, yes my friends do really call me the fairy godmother of orgasms. And yes I am very passionate about my love for vibrators LOL

I hope you enjoyed!! Do we want a part 2??

My inbox is always open

xoxo katy

Part 2

Part 3

[obsessiveimpulses]

Sleepless Nights

summary: yuuta cant stop thinking about you

cw: masturbation, somnophilia , choking, pervert yuuta , cumplay?

an: srry if u couldn't tell by now i clearly have a thing for guys masturbating (is that even a thing .. well is now ig)

☆°•

Everyone had always wondered why Yuuta looked so tired all the time. His big puppy eyes were slightly swollen with deep purple bags resting right beneath his lower lashes.

Everyone always wondered... but you knew why. And the reason? It was much more sinister than the simple lie he gave, "Oh... my mind is always racing before bed."

It was late at night, and you were already fast asleep nestled close to Yuuta. His body just grazed yours as the summer heat lingered in the air.

The heat was no bother for Yuuta though - his thoughts were somewhere else. His lie of "too many things to think about to sleep" was sort of true. He just couldn't stop thinking about fucking you.

You laid there so beautiful to him, your mouth was ajar a little bit of drool seeped out. It made him so happy that no one else got to see this cute vulnerable side of you just him, only him. His eyes gazed down your body starting from your soft lips and followed down your neck. Marks from last night claiming your body trailed down your neck and finally ended in your collarbones.

His eyes trailed further following the curve of your back leading right down to your soft plush ass. He sighed. His view was blocked by your soft cotton panties, and his eyes glistened with hunger as he noticed the lace trimming. He imagined himself crawling over on top of you. Slowly peeling your panties down to reveal your bare butt he would massage your shiny skin with his mouth. His wet spit would remain giving you a glossy look.

Before he knew it, he was softly rutting against the mattress. Small moans poured from his lips. His teeth pierced his bottom lip as he tried to keep quiet; a metallic taste filled his mouth.

Trying to not be loud he covered his mouth with his hand. He wouldn't want to wake his princess from her slumber - no matter how much he'd desire to plow down deep into you. He would never want to corrupt you with his perversion. His ruts became rougher as he became more desperate for your touch. He imagined it was your thighs he was rutting into.

How strange it felt craving for your lust when you were right there. But he couldn't ever tell you how much of a pervert he was. How hard his cock got from just looking at your soft thighs. How much precum spilled from his cock just thinking about the way your hair framed your face as you slept. How could he have such perverted thoughts while you slept peacefully next to him?

He rutted against the bed his dark blue briefs covering his pale cock adding a layer of friction between himself and the rough mattress. His face contorted, furrowing his eyebrows in pleasure, if only you could see him now. How lewd he must look with his hand covering his mouth as he grinded himself against the soft mattress.

The thrill of getting caught rushed into his head. If only you opened your eyes now to see the lewd image beside you. How submissive he must look so desperate for you. You'd make him beg, beg for forgiveness, beg for you to fuck him.

As he grew closer to the edge, his ruts became rougher and harder, almost as though he was trying to fuck a hole into the mattress. He wanted his flesh against your flesh like a fucking animal.

The hand covering his mouth stifled his moans. Although it made it hard to breathe, he enjoyed it. The slight dizzy feeling it gave him made him feel euphoric as his orgasm drew closer. He thought to himself; perhaps he should do this to you so you could feel as good as him. He imagined his long cold fingers around your neck, watching as your face turned red in pleasure. The fabric against his cock became too much for him as the warm feeling grew into a tingle going up the spine of his cock.

His cock throbbed with the visceral overwhelming building of pressure. He wanted, no, needed to cum right now as his eyes rested upon your lips. The world dampened around him as recurring jolts of pleasure ran in and out of his cock. His moans became loud despite the muffling of his hand as he cried out for sweet release. His cock twitched as streams of white seeped out; it began staining his briefs. Beautiful whines and moans sang from his lips, only to become muffled by his hand clasping his face. He continued softly humping the bed, riding out his orgasm as his cock softened.

Slowly, he removed his hand from his mouth. Small pants escaped his mouth followed by winces due to his sensitive cock being brushed against the mattress from his movements. He reached down and scooped his cum up onto his fingers. Proudly, he inspected his cum drenched fingers before lifting them up to your mouth. He gently pushed the tips of his fingers into your mouth. Instinctively, you softly sucked his fingers. Fuck... even unconsciously you knew how to please Yuuta.

His cock hardened once again. Fuck no wonder I can't sleep, he thought.

And so with the bed shaking, the bitter taste in your mouth in the mornings, and the constant morning woods Yuuta had, how couldn't you know?

[teencopandthesourwolf]

read on ao3 HERE

.

“I'm good, Stiles.”

Stiles thinks about the times when, all too often, he himself says I'm good in that particular way, and thinks about how it actually means everything in his life is currently lighting up like a dropped match landing in a trail of gasoline.

In the space of a single heartbeat, he knows he would somehow harness the contents of an entire fucking lake to dampen down that metaphorical trail for Derek, murdering the thought of that lost little boy playing Hide-Go-Seek in Derek's pale eyes.

Only he isn't about to start talking about things being on fire. Not to Derek, not ever.

Instead he says, “I always had this rule, you know, where I’d flat out ignore a problem and wait for it to—and I used to swear to myself that this would actually happen—” His lips drag themselves up one side of his face as he sweeps an arm dramatically through the drizzling rain and the pressing twilight. “—just go away.”

He then allows his arm to fall unceremoniously to his side, and the sound of hand slapping khakis rings out through the sparse and quiet branches of the preserve's stripped bare trees.

“Okay.” Derek says the word with an infinitesimal shake of his head, looking as if he wants Stiles to stop talking.

Thing is, if Derek wanted Stiles to stop talking he would say Stiles, stop talking.

So, Stiles troops on.

“And it kind of worked, a little bit. For a little while, at least. ” He takes a hit of chilly November air. Releases it slowly, enjoying the crazy plume of breath-smoke it creates. “Until I met you,” he shrugs.

Derek blinks and it's a betrayal, giving away his hard-won secrets.

Stiles briefly wonders who else—who left in the world—would know this about the werewolf standing opposite of him. Stiles doesn't need to be a ʼwolf to know this stuff, not when it comes to Derek Hale.

He tries not to look at Derek's lips when Derek licks them before asking, “What are you talking about, Stiles?”

“Magick,” he answers, his feelings and other things shifting underneath the layers of his skin, crackling away like a hundred tiny Roman Candles traversing his bloodstream and manifesting as gooseflesh.

Rolling his hoodie sleeve, he lifts a cold hand between the two of them and allows a miniscule fraction of whatever beats like a heart at the earth's core to flow up through the ground and into his feet and up his legs and down an arm, warm and thrilling, to then spring free out of his right palm.

A small sphere of pure light around the size of a tennis ball now glows about an inch above his hand, kind of like an oversized firefly—and just as alive.

“Cool as fuck, huh?” Stiles mutters, basking in its incandescence, super-proud of himself. Then he gets to his point. “Deaton showed me how to harness my spark, yeah? But I would never have found it in the first place, if you hadn't followed Scott and I into the woods that day.”

Derek blinks again. His jaw ticks like a clock.

“Stiles, that's a little like saying one, two miss a few, ninety-nine, a hundred,” he deadpans, and Stiles can't help but bark out a laugh.

Then he steels himself for one anticipatory moment before daring himself to take a step closer to Derek.

Derek stays put.

“Doesn't make it any less true,” Stiles shrugs.

Derek just stares at him for a moment, before peering down properly at Stiles's little orb, for the first time since Stiles summoned it.

“You've been practising,” he says simply, his eyebrows doing their thing.

He's now staring at Stiles's effort as if he wants to sink his fangs into it, like you would a quarter to test if it's real.

“Is it freaking you out?” Stiles asks.

“No,” he answers flatly. “I think it's cool as fuck,” and he looks up at Stiles like he might want to keep looking.

Stiles wants him to never stop.

“Then here, you can have it,” he says.

He takes another step closer to Derek.

They are toe to toe, now, and still Derek doesn't bolt, nor pounce, nor warn Stiles off.

So, Stiles—really slowly—reaches for Derek's hand.

Derek lets him.

Stiles then transfers the light to Derek's palm, cupping his hand around Derek's to ensure it keeps hovering there. He directs their hands to Derek's chest, stopping right over his heart and flattening them both there, he and Derek watching as Stiles's spark dissipates into Derek's body, leaving behind a few wispy tendrils of light that Stiles guides back into himself with a couple of waves of his free hand.

“Now, whenever you're good, I can be right there being good with you, even if I'm not around,” Stiles says, and then he hopes and hopes when he asks, “Is that okay?”

Derek smiles, and it's the first truly happy-looking smile that Stiles has been privileged enough to witness blooming on that beautiful, beautiful face of his.

“It's better than okay, Stiles,” he says. “It's magick.”

.

unedited, soz! this is for @dontcallpanic (pip knows why) <3

.

...edited version now found HERE on ao3 if you want to drop me a comment xp

[blueberryredbullwithlime]

having so much remain unsaid drives you fucking crazy.

but dabi seems fine with it.

he sits and passes a cigarette between you as if your lip gloss isn't smearing onto his rough lips. he sits with one knee bent up to rest his chin against, and stare up at a vast, misty, blank night sky. the only thing you can see in the dense city is the vague yellowing stain of the moon. yet he looks up as if its the most capturing image of all.

as if you aren't right next to him. boring holes in the side of his charred head.

"so, you're really going with them again tomorrow?"

you blow smoke into his ear with the question. he bats at the cloud and reaches between your pursed lips for the stick. his knuckles brush your soft, dewy skin and you hate how your chest sputters at the contact.

a mere nod is all you get. he inhales slowly, the ashing end illuminating cherry against what remains of his pale face. when he exhales, his head swivels to face you. blowing right in your eyes and nose.

"ass!" you swat his arm through the crackling leather jacket.

he grins, smothering it before it can pop his staples, and shrugs.

"will you come back soon?"

all good humor drops. he tosses the stumped cig and stomps it out with his boot.

"probably," he answers flippantly.

perfect response to keep you just at the edge. a 'no' would confirm he couldn't care less about you. a 'yes' would confirm just how much he cares about you. but something so mashed and hidden by layers of indifference keeps you curious. wanting.

"dabi..."

"what?" he knows what you want.

i love you too. yes i'll be home. yes this is my home. you're everything to me. i love you too. i love you too. i love you too.

he knows you just want him to say it back. that can't be too much to ask, can it?

"i dunno what you want if you don't tell me," he sighs and stands and wipes both hands on his pants. effectively ridding himself of the dust from inside your house, and the skin cells he skeeved off you all night. he turns his back right when your eyes start watering, but you know he saw it. he sniffles a little and clears his throat, "take care of yourself, i'll be back."

eventually

he walks down the stairs and turns and leaves as he always does. not even waiting out to dawn like he said.

maybe it is too much to ask.

[sunflowerwinds]

make you mine | 4 | e.w

summary: when you and ellie are home alone, you tend to ellie’s wounds (again) and things get a lot more heated than you expected. hailee comes home in a rage when she finds out the truth about you and her bestfriend.

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

contains: sister’s best-friend!ellie, fluff, established relationship, mature content — smut including fingering (r!receiving), strap-on (r!receiving), sibling angst (that is resolved quickly)

word count: 4.8K

a/n: long ass last part for you guys. you deserve it, my loves. <3

FREE PALESTINE | DAILY CLICK | DO NOT BUY TLOU2 REMASTERED

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR

The next two weeks were a blur of smitten kisses, secret touches, and sneaking around. You had to make up lies about hanging out and sleeping over at Dina’s when in reality, you were either in Ellie’s bed as she explained how she needed to nail these new kickflips and going on little dates around the town.

Vincent asked Hailee just yesterday if he could be her boyfriend. She had ecstatically said ‘yes’ and she’s been attached to the hip with him since.

You’ve never seen her take to someone so quickly other than… Well, Ellie. You had been making yourself some chicken salad for lunch when you heard a knock at the door. You set the fork down on a napkin right next to the bowl of your lunch and march to the front door.

As soon as you open the door, you smile at the expected guest.

“Hi, baby,” Ellie steps into the house, shutting the door behind her.

“Hi,” you breathe out with a giddy grin. “What have you been up to?”

She shrugged her shoulders before snapping her fingers and pointing at you. Her eyes were shamelessly trailing up and down your frame.

“I fell this morning and scrapped the fuck out of my side,” Ellie explained as she easily rests her palms on your hips.

You were wearing a sundress, surprisingly enough to yourself. Skirts and dresses were something that were a hit or miss for you but due to the heat today, you felt this particular sundress was the best option. It was a bohemian red and white floral mini-dress. Plus, Ellie couldn't keep her hands off of you.

Like she could pounce on you at any moment.

“Els, why didn’t you tell me anything earlier?” You frown as you look at her face.

You also notice a slight scrape under her chin. You shake your head and cup both sides of her soft and warm face, tilting it back ever so slightly.

“And your jaw? Fuck, Ellie,” you continue to shake your head as you run your thumb over the slight bruising.

“I’m okay. I just need my favorite nurse to help me out,” Ellie’s grin was wide and giddy as she squeezed your sides.

You playfully roll your eyes as you motion for her to follow you to the bathroom. Ellie reluctantly released her grasp on you to trail behind you like a love-sick puppy, her hands just ghosting yours that were clasped behind your back. Once the two of you entered the bathroom, you got all the supplies you needed for Ellie’s injuries.

“Alright, take off your shirt,” you motioned to the few layers she had on.

Ellie removed her brown flannel that had the sleeves ripped off, setting it down on the sink’s marble counter. You stop your movements as Ellie tugs off her black wife-pleaser to reveal her sports bra and the scraped skin on her toned hips, now only left in her baggy gray jeans. The sight of her toned body always throws you off guard. She always helped Joel with the little farm that they have in the backyard of his house; carrying around hay barrels for the few horses and pales of eggs from the chickens.

They were not as light as they looked.

She winces slightly as she adjusts her hips to face you, a bit of blood still seeping from the injuries. You kneeled in front of her to get a closer look at how deep and severe the cuts were. Ellie raised her brows but kept her comments to herself.

“Els, baby, that’s— fuck, I mean did someone push you?” You can’t help but wince as you dab the injuries with a cotton pad doused in hydrogen peroxide.

Ellie’s hips jerked as she glanced down at you.

“No, I tried landing a fucking double heel flip but got stuck on a piece of shit bar. I hit my jaw and slid on the concrete.” Ellie explained, sucking in a deep breath as she couldn't handle seeing you down on your knees anymore.

You heard the sharp suck-in from above you and you apologized softly, thinking it was because Ellie was in pain. You leaned forward to place a feather-soft kiss on her upper abdomen, standing up on your feet. The feeling of your lips grazing her skin nearly made Ellie’s knees give out.

“Do you want anything to eat? Are you hungry?” You hum as you cup the sides of her face, your thumbs tracing her jaw. “I was just making some chicken salad so if you want some of that, let me know.”

Ellie blinked at you before breathing out: “What are you doing?”

Your brows furrow, tilting your head.

“What do you mean?”

You knew exactly what Ellie was referring to. You’ve realized more than anything that Ellie is very easy to tease. Not to be a cocky bitch but she was obsessed with you. Ellie licked her lips, letting out a soft chuckle.

“You’re a fucking tease, you know that?” Ellie shook her head as her hands gripped your hips tightly.

“Are you gonna do something about it?” You hum, leaning in carefully testing the waters.

Ellie moved one of her hands up your side to then trace your bottom lip with the pad of her rough thumb. You instinctively took her thumb into your mouth, biting at the joint. You swore you could see something shift in Ellie’s eyes when your tongue swiped over the skin and sucked it gently. Ellie whispered a curse before removing her finger to cup the back of your neck, pulling you into a hungry kiss.

You gasp at the feeling, your panties dampen at her strong grip on your body. Your hands trail down from her shoulder to the waistband of her boxers-briefs that were peeking out from her jeans, being mindful of her small injuries.

Ellie moaned softly against your lips, pulling away for a moment so that she could get a good look at you.

You were panting softly, pupils blown and one of the straps to your dress falling off your shoulder.

Fuck, she could take a photo of you right now; Keep it in her wallet to show off how perfect her girl is.

“Before I let you do what you want, let me patch you up and put the chicken salad away,” you breathe out, rushing to take a huge band-aid that you had gotten after Ellie’s first incident.

“This feels familiar,” Ellie cheekily remarked as if she was reading your mind.

You let out a smitten chuckle as you leaned in to peck her lips three times exactly before spreading an ointment over her marks. Ellie’s toned stomach rose and fell rapidly, her eyes hungrily and impatiently trailing all over your body. Her hands were flexed at her hands, forcing her urges back to grab you and fuck you from behind, letting the sound of your soft and desperate moans send shivers down her spine.

“Do what you need to do, babe. Meet me back here in three minutes, yeah?” Ellie raised her brows as she cupped your jaw, tilting your chin up a little.

You nod at her words as that should give you plenty of time to get the chicken salad in the fridge and to take off your panties to make things easier. Ellie smiled at you with nothing but admiration and want, placing a sensual kiss on your lips as she jerked her head toward the bathroom door.

Oh, right. The chicken salad.

“Three minutes?” You question one last time, brushing back your flyaway hairs.

“Three minutes, gorgeous,” Ellie smirked.

You mutter it to yourself as you make your way out of the bathroom. Ellie was hot on your tail to give your ass a nice smack through the skirt portion of the dress, biting her lip when you simply turned your head to blush adorably at her. She made her way to the living room, rummaging through her plain black Converse backpack she had set down next to the couch.

The small time frame was a lot harder than you were expecting. Mostly because you’ve never realized how you can’t tell how long a minute is if you’re not counting down every second. You couldn't count down because your mind was clouded with Ellie.

Her shameless desire to have her hands on you, the sweet pet names she’d give you, and the way you thrived off of her compliments.

You shook your head as once you'd neatly packed away the delicacy in the fridge, you sprinted to your room to shimmy the borderline granny panties off of your lower half. You toss them in your laundry hamper and scurry back to the bathroom.

Ellie was leaning against the sink, arms crossed in front of her chest. The position made her biceps pop deliciously.

“Come here,” Ellie tilts her to you as you lean against the door, locking it smoothly.

You inch over to her with a shy smile, eyes glazed over with desire. Ellie reached forward to tug your hips forward towards her.

“Do you trust me?” Ellie questioned as her thumbs caressed your hips.

“Yeah, of course, Els,” you nod, your fingers twitching with anticipation.

Ellie tilted her head towards the sink’s countertop, a mischievous smirk on her pale pink lips.

“Hop up on there, baby,” Ellie placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, patting your ass over the dress.

You chuckled and did as she instructed, scooting back to get more comfortable. Ellie’s hands immediately found your plush hips and thighs, squeezing and loving the feeling of your skin in her palms.

“I know this isn’t, like, insanely romantic but can I… fuck you? I bought a strap, too, if you want to do that.” Ellie hesitantly asked, eyes patient for whatever you were going to respond with.

“Ellie,” you deadpanned, eyebrows raising in disbelief. “Do you know how badly I’ve wanted you to fuck me? I just want you. You can fuck me another time in bed with roses and shit.”

Ellie snorted at your words but felt more at ease like she wasn’t taking advantage or pushing you to do something you didn't want to do yet.

“I didn’t want to rush things with you but… god, if you could feel how wet I am right now.” You were visibly flushed and bothered by your infuriating arousal.

Ellie’s eyes widened for a moment, her own freckled cheeks igniting a flame. She needed to feel you. To make sure you were telling the truth, of course.

“Can I?” Ellie pants, rolling the ends of the skirt of your dress between her middle finger and thumb.

You whisper a confirmation, watching her intently as she begins to push the skirt up your legs. Your skin grew hot as Ellie’s blunt fingernails grazed the skin of your thighs. Ellie, to her surprise, didn’t feel any sort of restricting cloth once she got to your hips under the dress.

“You really are a minx, Jesus,” Ellie breathed out a smitten laugh, gripping at the skin once more.

“Baby, please. Touch me.” You grab at her tattooed wrist, inching it just above your pubic bone.

Ellie let out a curse under her breath at your begging. It was an even sweeter sound than she could ever imagine. She takes her free hand to grip your hips and tug you just an inch closer to the edge of the counter. You let out a soft sigh at the feeling of being manhandled by your girlfriend.

Without wasting any more time, Ellie drags her middle finger through your drenched folds. You lean your back against the cool mirror, a shiver running down your spine as she teases at your clit.

“Fuck, you weren't kidding. Are you always this wet when I tease you, hmm?” Ellie leaned forward to nose at your jaw, placing a wet kiss on the skin.

You nod, eyes shut as she slowly inserts her middle finger into you. The sound was obscene but neither you nor Ellie could get enough.

“You’re so pretty, Els. I can’t help it,” you sit up and off the mirror to change the angle a bit.

Ellie released a faint moan at your confession, silently scolding herself for keeping you from feeling good. Pretty, she thought. She gets wet from just seeing me.

“I’m gonna go slow right now, okay? Tell me if you want it faster,” Ellie placed a kiss on your cheek. “Harder,” another to your clavicle. “More fingers,” one more to just over the top of your left boob. “You tell me, okay?”

Have you said anything yet? You think so but you force yourself to whimper a soft ‘okay’. You already felt yourself drifting off into a state of bliss.

Ellie nods, feeling satisfied enough with your verbal answer. She slips her ring finger next to the middle, eyes watching you for any reaction. Your face was scrunched up in pleasure as Ellie’s forearm began to pump in and out of you. You gasp at the feeling, reaching forward to hold yourself steady on her flushed shoulders. Your hips grinned down on her fingers, heavy pants leaving your mouth.

Ellie used her free hand to tug down the front of your dress, your tits spilling out. She couldn't believe how fucking perfect you were in every way. She leaned down ever so slightly to kiss around your nipple as she continued to pump her fingers in and out, matching her pace to your whines and moans.

You caress the back of Ellie’s half-up half-down hairstyle as you watch her take your right nipple into her mouth. Your hips jerk as Ellie’s tongue swirls the bud in her mouth and her hand that wasn’t fingering you swiped over the left.

“Just like that, baby,” Ellie muttered against your tit, sucking on it and kissing over the full skin. “Keep moving those pretty hips.

You clench down on her at the praise as Ellie knowingly smiles against your chest. Cocky tease, you think to yourself. You grab her neck with both hands to pull her back up to your lips, hungrily kissing her like you couldn't bear without it.

Ellie pants into your mouth, teeth hitting yours for a moment as she is just as eager for you. Feeling overwhelmed by the sensation of Ellie’s fingers in you and her deep and sensual kisses, a tightening feeling settled in your lower abdomen.

“Els, faster. Please faster,” you whine against her swollen lips, a soft moan following.

Ellie didn’t have to be told twice, speeding up her arm. Her eyes hungrily watched as your mouth dropped in pleasure, the sound of your moans growing louder as she repeatedly hit your g-spot. Her arm was on fire but seeing you so pretty like this was the only thing keeping her going.

“That’s it, baby. Doin’ so perfect. My pretty girl,” Ellie praised you, kissing down your neck and nibbling on the skin.

You grab at her back as she does so, back arching to feel the pleasure all up your spine. Ellie started rubbing at your clit to get you to cum even faster. Your moans were becoming borderline pornographic as you came all over her two fingers.

“Oh my god, fuck. Shit! Ellie,” you whine as Ellie’s fingers are still moving, letting you ride out your orgasm. Your hand flung to her wrist as she smiled right in your face at your stuttering hips.

“There you go, pretty girl,” she placed soft kisses on your sweaty hairline through her sweet words.

A shiver runs down your body, goosebumps rising to your skin as Ellie carefully takes her fingers out of you. She sucks in a deep breath at the sight of her fingers dripping with your cum.

“Are you, uh, feeling okay? Do you need anything?” Ellie stared at your flushed face and chest, admiring how beautiful you looked coming down from your orgasm.

“I’m good, Els,” you reply softly, panting softly with a cocky smirk. You lean close to brush your lips over hers. “I just need you to fuck me, baby.”

Ellie’s eyes glance down at her baggy jeans then up at you again. Her eyebrows raise at your swollen lips.

“With the—“

“Mhmm. Can you please?” You chuckle at how flustered Ellie is getting now.

“Yeah, yeah, I can do that, baby.”

Ellie is about to reach for the button to her pants but you beat her to it, eyes never leaving hers. Ellie used this opportunity to kiss you with passion, tongue swiping over your bottom lip.

Your eyebrows shot up at the feeling of the silicone dildo and at the size of it.

“Jesus, Ellie, are you trying to reach my lungs with this?” You dramatize with a soft chuckle, just grazing your lips over hers.

“It’s only six inches!” Ellie teases before cocking her head to the side, “Or is that too big for you?”

You roll your eyes at her words before taking the stiff dildo out of the zipper. Ellie glanced down before gripping your plush thighs to tug you closer to the edge of the sink. You couldn’t get enough of Ellie’s strong and rough grip on you.

“Okay, pretty girl, you let me know if it hurts. Just want to make sure you feel good,” Ellie wrapped her lengthy fingers around the base of it.

The freckled girl lined the tip of her makeshift dick. She made sure to leave a loving kiss and a gentle whisper to let you know that she was going to be pushing in now. You inhale as you feel your walls slowly stretch from Ellie’s dick.

You whimper unknowingly to yourself, trying to relax so that Ellie could push herself all the way in. Ellie whispers sweet praises in your ear, her thumbs massaging your hips to ease the stretch.

“How’s that feel, baby?” Ellie asked gently.

“Full but good. So fucking good,” you chuckle through a moan, your hands cupping Ellie’s face.

Your middle finger traces over the scar in her eyebrow and the beautiful constellation of freckles all over her face. Her cheeks were hot to the touch, pupils blown from arousal. Her eyes soften at your gentle touch.

She looked almost angelic. Scratch almost. She did look angelic.

Ellie nodded at your confirmation, her hips slowly dragging in and out. You lift your right leg up and rest your calf on her hip to switch up the angle. Ellie placed her hand on the muscle of your calf, encouraging the new angle.

“Fuck, Ellie,” you whisper as Ellie picks up her pace.

Ellie’s own moans and whines were faint but you took them in like you needed them. The sound of them was driving you insane, the obscene sound of her hips slapping against yours. Your hands were clawing at her back as you were grinding your hips as much as you could.

Sweat was forming at the base of your neck and spine. Your lower abdomen was on fire and you were sure Ellie’s was even worse. You could see her abs tightening more and more with every deep thrust. You ran your fingers over her bandage and the ridges of her ribs, wishing she could be deeper and deeper in you.

Ellie sucked in a deep breath at the feeling of your fingers on her skin.

“Look at me, angel,” Ellie whispers. Angel. That’s a new one.

Your hooded eyes drifted from her body to her face. Her smile beamed at your fucked out face. Her hand rested just under your jaw to pull you into a messy kiss.

“You look so pretty like this,” she groans against your lips.

You preen at the praise and let out a whine that you knew sounded so pathetic. You couldn't care less as your girlfriend was fucking you so hard that you swore you were going to squirt.

Your hands were slipping into the back of her head and tangling up into her short auburn hair. Ellie shivered at the slight tug as she dove in to shamelessly suck a hickey onto your neck. You panted as the air in the enclosed bathroom space was getting hotter and hotter as the seconds passed by.

The feeling of the thick dildo hitting at your g-spot causes pornographic moans to leave your mouth. A familiar tightening feeling settled into your abdomen.

“Ellie, I’m gonna cum, please” you whisper, trying not to be as loud as your moans.

“Cum for me, baby. Doing so good for me,” Ellie pecked your hot and sweat-dried cheek.

As you were about to cum, you heard the front door slam shut. Both of your movements froze at the sound of your sister's angry voice echoing through the house.

“What the actual fuck?” Hailee shouted that you swore had rattled the framed photos in the restroom.

You muttered curses as you ushered Ellie to pull out of you, trying to make minimal noise as well. It hurt like a bitch but you had to make yourself look somewhat decent. Ellie shuffled to release you from her grasp. You tug the skirt of your dress back down your thighs and hurry to wipe the smudged mascara from underneath your eyes.

Hailee calls for you again to which you look at Ellie with a panicked expression.

“Stay in here. Don’t say a thing and keep quiet.” You beg her, making sure to peck her lips once to show her you didn’t mean to be bossy or mean.

Ellie nods and gives you a tight-lipped smile. You tug the bathroom door open, wiping over your mouth once as you whip your head around to find your sister.

“Hails?” You call out.

Seconds later, you hear footsteps come from the area of your bedroom. Hailee stands in front of you and damn it, she looks more pissed than the time she failed her driver’s test.

The first time.

Her hands were on her hips and her chest was heaving up and down in anger.

“I’m gonna ask you something and if you lie to me, I will punch you straight in your fucking teeth,” Hailee spoke at an eerily calm volume.

“Okay…?” You reply, entirely confused by her angered state.

“Are you and Ellie together?” She blurts out, eyes wide in anticipation. “Fuck buddies, dating, whatever you two are just… can you tell me yes or no?”

What.

How did she find out? Who told her? Not Jesse, no. Dina? No, no, no definitely not.

Who fucking told her?

“Hails,” you start, shutting your eyes as you step closer to her.

“Oh my fucking god. It’s true. Are you fucking kidding me?” Hailee grabbed a throw pillow from the couch and hit you upside the with it.

You let out a gasp and looked at her in disbelief. Is she 12?

“Can you not hit me so we can just talk about it? Please, Hails.”

She hit you again upside the other side of your head. You huff out an annoyed sigh, rubbing at your temple. You open your mouth to say something snarky when you hear a muffled clatter from the bathroom.

Hailee’s eyes dart in the direction of the bathroom when she hears a soft mutter. Her eyes widen as she lets out a scoff and marches over to the door. You try to call after her but she jerks open the door to reveal a hunch over Ellie picking up the supplies you had forgotten to put away.

Her body tenses as she slowly stands upright, making eye contact with your sister.

“Hailee,” Ellie begins but your sister is quick to throw the pillow at Ellie's head.

Ellie merely scrunched up her face in embarrassment, clearing her throat and scratching behind her ear. You notice her nose scrunch up before she groans out, shaking her head.

“Were you two getting it on when I came home?” Hailee’s voice was laced with disgust.

The silence from you and Ellie told her everything she needed to know. You picked at your nails nervously, making eye contact with Ellie from behind your sister's figure.

“You,” she pointed at Ellie and turned to you with a scowl on her face, “and you are sick. The both of you. How long have you two been lying to me about this… thing you have going on?”

“A month.” Ellie carefully sighs out.

You suck in a deep breath as the two of you wait patiently for Hailee’s reaction. She was frighteningly still as she stared at Ellie who was anxiously fiddling with the bracelet you had gifted her a while back.

“How long were you going to keep this from me? Hmm?” Hailee whipped her head to stare at you now.

You froze at her angry glare but somehow managed to answer.

“Hails, I don’t know exactly when but we knew you would… Well, do this.”

“What? Freak out? Be dramatic?” Hailee lists off as she folded her arms in front of her ribbed tank top. “I’m sorry that I’m ‘being dramatic’ that my best friend since 6th grade and my sister have been lying to me about their secret relationship. I had to find out when Bella told me today that she was happy for you and Ellie.”

You shut your eyes and rub at your temple at Hailee’s tempered words.

“She saw you guys out on a date and kissing and holding hands and shit.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence between the three of you. No one knew what to say next. You felt guilt settle in your chest.

“Hailee,” Ellie began, which caused your sister to flinch and take a step back from her. “Hails, we never wanted to hurt you, okay? I… really like her. I’ve liked her since we were in junior high but always pushed those feelings away because of you. You’re my best friend and I didn’t want to risk my friendship with you. Look, I’m sorry that we lied to you and kept it a secret. We wanted to make sure that this would work.”

“Does it?” You speak up softly, looking at Ellie with nothing but admiration in your eyes.

Ellie’s eyes softened in your direction, a shy smile on her lips now. “Yeah, it does.”

Hailee kept looking between you two like she was contemplating on what to say. Whether she should blow up or come to an understanding.

“God, this is gonna be every day now, isn’t it?” Hailee groaned and covered her face with her hand.

“You’re not—“ You began with furrowed brows.

“— Mad? Yeah, I definitely am but,” Hailee sucked in a deep breath. “You two mean a lot to me and you make each other happy. I will not pick between you two if you break up though.”

Ellie smiled at Hailee then flickered her eyes over to you.

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair,” you nod as you blush under Ellie’s gaze.

“Alright, I’m gonna go to my room because you two are blatantly eye-fucking each other,” Hailee grimaced and leaned over to Ellie to hug her. She whispers in Ellie’s ear laced with a sickenly sweet tone. “You hurt her and I will break every single skateboard in your room, Williams.”

Ellie’s eyes widen before she pats Hailee’s back with a tinge of fear.

“Yeah, love you, Hails.”

“Love you, Els.” Hailee grinned as she turned to you and threw a punch to your shoulder once.

You gasp at the sudden force and just nod.

“Okay, yeah. Are you done?” You rub over the skin and glare at her.

Hailee hummed in thought before shrugging her shoulders.

“For now. I’ll leave you guys alone to… talk. Just talk, okay? I’m home now.” Hailee warned you and Ellie before scurrying off to the bedroom upstairs.

You and Ellie wait until you hear the bedroom door click closed before you burst into soft giggles. Ellie walked over to you to capture your lips into a gentle kiss.

“Fuck, that was single-handedly one of the most embarrassing conversations I’ve ever had.” You murmur onto her lips, cupping her face.

“Yeah, but,” Ellie pulled away to wrap her fingers around your wrists. “I’m kind of glad. It was sort of killing me not being able to tell people.”

Your eyes soften at her confession, rubbing your thumb over her warm cheeks.

“Me too, honestly. I would’ve preferred for us to just tell her but it's out now. We’re…?”

As you trailed off, you realized you and Ellie never had that conversation. The rhythm and pace of your relationship was so perfect you didn’t even think about the ‘label’ talk.

“Girlfriends?” Ellie questioned, tilting her head to the side.

You beam and nod to confirm: “Girlfriends sounds more than good.”

Ellie began to cover your face in gentle kisses, feeling like she was on a permanent high. Giddy laughter left your lips and Ellie decided she right there and then that she wanted to make you laugh like that forever. To make you hers.

She’d do whatever it takes to keep you this happy.

tag-list: @elliezlils11utt @seraphicsentences @alesbianperson @21slurp-blog @vqxen @mikellie @boobdrug @macaroni676 @elliesprettygirl @plutolovesyouu @cinnamonmilf @sc0ttstre3ted

[poppy-metal]

when you come to in vamp artashis guest room, you wonder if maybe you had dreamed it. your neck throbbed, but there was no wound. you felt weak, but that was almost definitely the hangover. yes. a dream. you were probably too drunk to do anything, and they probably put you up in their bedroom out of pity. bless their hearts, you almost felt guilty. and regretful. how you would’ve like to fuck them.

but maybe it isn’t a dream, because the blonde one, art his name was, comes in holding a tray, with an expression on his face that borders on manic excitement. he looks thrilled with the novelty of the task he’s performing, which under normal circumstances would be extremely sweet, with no hidden layer of irony. but he lifted the tray up like you wouldn’t know what it was, and in a voice too loud for your pounding head said “eggs and bacon!”

he was so gorgeous. he was shirtless, only in boxers like he didn’t feel the morning chill. his hair was tossed to and fro but always looked angelic and framed his face, the picture of youth and vitality. you forgave him his loud entrance immediately.

“thank you so much,” you croak as he lays the tray on your lap gently,”i’m so, so sorry about last night, i didn’t realise how drunk i was. i hope i didn’t disappoint you and your wife.”

“disappoint us?”

he stood over you, waiting for you to eat his overcooked breakfast and love it, ringing his hands together like a dad finished with a woodworking project. you pop a piece of egg in your mouth. extremely mediocre.

“what do you remember of last night?”

“just coming back here, kissing. and i had a weird dream, so i don’t know how much of that is real. why?”

“it wasn’t a dream. do you like your breakfast?”

you pause with some fluffy egg on the end of shiny fork tensils. the way art is staring at you is sort of uncanny valley - you can't place what it is. just some displacement in the air around him. he stands too still, too perfectly still. you wouldn't notice how abnormal this is - except now you do. usually people are always moving in some way. shifting. even a slight sway when standing in one place. he's like marble. a statue of some greek god or angel. 

you lower the fork. he watches the motion. with your other hand, you delicately touch the side of your neck again, feeling. his eyes watch that movement too. his pupils dilate. blue almost disappearing entirely within black. he licks his bottom lip. 

“did you bite me last night?” 

you don't feel any marks. but your dream….. maybe they were somewhere else. you put the plate to the side and moved the covers aside, blinking down at your body. last night was fuzzy, yes, but you were definitely still in your dress last you remembered. you weren't in a dress now. you were in a soft cotton tshirt. white and large on your bodym, coming down to your knees. a mans shirt. 

“that's my shirt. and yes, I did. are you feeling alright, by the way?” 

you look up at him. the clouds in your brain begin to part, revealing something that is far more ominous and dangerous than the sun. even if you still can't place it. 

“did we have sex?” the biting isn't so abnormal. loads of past boyfriends had given you hickeys before. but really, you'd have liked to remember losing your virginity. you tried to focus between your legs- squeezed your inner muscles to test for any aches and pains, but felt none. mostly just your neck ached. he must have really bitten you, then. but then where was the mark? 

“we didn't.” art tells you. he looks a little forlorn about this. “you passed out in the middle of - in the middle of uh.” some pink comes to his cheeks. it's a beautiful color on his smooth pale skin. “in the middle of things.” he settles on. he sits down gently, the bed dipping under his weight. “I wanted to, though.” 

you feel your own cheeks heat. your fingers play with the frayed edges of your - his - shirt, nervously. the room is so quiet. no other sounds like a clock ticking or a fan whirring. it's just you and this practical stranger. alone in a unfamiliar room. 

“im - I'm kind of glad we didn't.” you admit. “I dont know if I told you - the night is a blur - if I didn't, I'm sorry - I should have. it's just that I'm actually a virgin? not that it's a big deal or anything to me - I just. well, it's something I'd like to remember, at least.” 

arts places his hand close to your knee on the bed. he has an athletes hand. somehow slender and beautiful, but powerful too. you think you remember something about him saying he was a tennis player. one of his fingers brushes against the bare skin of your thigh and a muscle twitches. 

“it is a big deal.” is all he says, and the way he looks at you silences any protests you might have had. like he sees inside you and already knows that you'd gone to that club with the very notion of losing your virginity already in mind - that you'd wanted rid of it like a bad disease - flushed from your system. but that you'd secretly always wanted the act to mean something. to be romantic and symbolic in some way, even as you deliberately set out to make it mean nothing.

art is so pretty. it's a combination of feminine beauty and masculinity that doesn't clash - but rather mixes like primary and secondary colors do together to make something wholly complementary. 

he has delicate but sharp bone structure. a strong nose and jawline. soft silky hair. long lashes. his body is lithe but solid. built and strong but not bulky. not a smattering of hair anywhere in sight. just miles and miles of smooth milky skin. 

“yeah…” you say, a little dazed. are the clouds rolling back in? 

art tugs his pink bottom lip between his teeth - blindingly white - flicks his gaze to your discarded plate. you think you should be asking more questions, but you don't know what those questions should be. 

“you should finish eating.” he nudges your plate back into your lap. “I want you to be healthy. we want to talk to you later, when you're feeling better.” 

you pick up your fork again, wondering at how the sight of his obvious pleasure at the listened to action makes warmth blossom in your chest. 

“we?” you remember tashi. flush. “your wife.” 

god, had you really planned to lose your virginity to two people at once? you couldn't risk drinking like that again. 

art nods. stands again and smiles down at you. he has dimples, you realize with some levity. not that you necessarily felt threatened, but the sight of something so boyishly charming melts you a little. 

“we like you.” he states. “well, I like you. and tashi likes what makes me happy.” 

you pause in chewing a piece of bacon. a little charred but still good. you imagine him cooking and fretting over when to turn the slices - blink and blink again. “um. t- thank you.” 

you should probably mention something about going home. you think you came here in a limo? did they own a limo? they were obviously rich. you wondered if it would be rude to ask if they buy you an Uber.

suddenly, art leans down - his scent fills your nose - something crisp and clean and minty - and his cool lips press against the center of your forehead. your fork haults against the plate, scraping in suprise. you suck in a breath, your heart beating suddenly as fast as a hummingbirds wings. he'd gotten to you so quick, you'd hardly felt a disturbance in the air - a shift in the atmosphere - something about the way he holds his lips to your skin is almost tender. loving. another beat starts, between your legs this time. 

art speaks - and his breath puffs the baby hairs wisping around your head back a little - his voice as soft and smooth as melted butter - 

“you look fucking delicious in my shirt, by the way.” 

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

My hand is resting on Ash’s chest as we lie together in comfortable silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The quiet is soothing and I’m grateful he doesn’t feel the need to fill it with conversation, that we can just be here together.

Slowly, I begin tracing my fingers lightly across his collarbone, then up his arm stretched over his head, and back again. He closes his eyes and smiles contentedly, so I continue, brushing my fingertips back across his chest and down his abdomen.

His skin is so soft and pale, it reminds me of the flowering dogwoods that would bloom in spring at the park near the house where I grew up. I read about them in school once and became fascinated by them. I would sit in the grass underneath them and run my fingers along the white petal-like blossoms, examining the tiny flowers at their center.

I make a mental note to tell Ash about them sometime. I bet he’d love them, want to study them and draw them.

The velvety texture of his skin is contrasted by a coarse trail of jet-black hair. I follow the trail down, stopping as my hand grazes past two small scars low on his belly, just inside his hips. “What are these from?” I ask.

He glances down briefly and then rests his head back, “They’re from a hysterectomy.”

“Oh. So, you can’t—?”

“Mm-mm, you can’t get me pregnant or anything.”

“Good to know. So, if you want kids one day, you’d just have to adopt?”

“Not necessarily. I had my eggs frozen, just in case. So, I could have a biological child, I’d just need a surrogate.”

“Really? Do you think you’ll do it? Have kids?”

“Oh, god, I don’t know. I had them stored for ten years, so I have plenty of time to decide. It’s not really something I’m worried about right now.”

“Makes sense,” I whisper as my hand resumes its journey, brushing my fingertips up and down one thigh and then the other before making my way back up again, all the way up to his face, turning it gently toward me. When he opens his eyes again, before I can stop myself, I say, “Ash, you’re perfect, you know that?”

His eyebrows stitch together in a pained expression, “Atlas…”

I know. I know it’s not fair. I can’t say things like that if we’re “just friends”. He doesn’t have to tell me. It’s written all over his face. But look at us, we’ve already crossed so many lines tonight that the walls I’d built up are crumbling around me, and I’m not ready to put them back. Not yet. Not tonight. So, even if I shouldn’t, I have to ask, “Will you stay? Will you sleep here tonight?”

Putting his arms around me, he smiles, “Yeah, of course I’ll stay.”

“Thank you,” I exhale, relieved. "Can I get you anything? Do you want some water?"

“Yes, actually, that would be amazing.”

“Okay, I’ll go get some.”

“Thanks. And, um, can I use your bathroom?”

“Yeah, it’s just out the door to your left.”

In the kitchen, I drink down a large glass of water in one breath, practically gasping by the time I finish it. As I refill it, along with a second glass for Ash, I turn my head slightly to smell myself… just in case. Thankfully, I don’t stink yet, but I’ve accumulated enough layers of sweat throughout the night that I’m certain I’ll be ripe by morning.

I glance at the bathroom door, debating, wondering if it’s a step too far, too intimate, but decide to ask him anyway.

When the door opens, I walk over to meet him on his way out.  I hand him the glass of water and he drinks it nearly as quickly as I did. “Thank you,” he says, breathless.

“Are you tired?” I ask.

“Not really, why?”

“Do you want to take a shower with me?”

“That shower?” he points to the door he just came out of, “Is there even enough room for two people?”

“Not really,” I shake my head with a smile, knowing it’s ridiculous, but still hoping he says yes.

He considers for a moment, searching my face as if he’s waiting for me to tell him I’m joking. When I don’t, he replies with a shrug, “Fuck it, sure.”

Some find it strange, but I enjoy showering with people. It’s intimate in its own way. I mean, aside from the obvious, like being naked in a small space not really meant for two people, placing hands on an arm or waist or back as we maneuver around each other. That has its own pleasures too, of course, but I like getting a glimpse into people’s routines, their daily habits. All those little things that no one else notices, or pays attention to, or has the privilege of witnessing. Like the way Ash never puts his face under the water. He tips his head back to rinse it, gets right up to the hairline, but no farther, ensuring gravity prevents the water from running down over his face.

When I ask him why, he says, “I don’t like it. It makes me feel like I’m drowning.” And then I understand. I remember the story he told me about nearly drowning in the ocean, how he was caught in the undertow when he was a child, how he would have died if it wasn’t for his mother.

We laugh as we awkwardly squeeze past each other, trading places so I can rinse my hair. As I stand under the water and close my eyes, I feel him place his hands gently on my abdomen, slowly tracing the lines of the muscle just below the surface with his fingertips. “Jesus, look at you,” he says, “maybe I should take up rock climbing.”

I let out a small laugh, “It’s fun. I could teach you.”

“Nah, I don’t think it’s for me. It’s a shame you ever have to put clothes on, though.”

“Not tonight, I don’t.” I shut off the water quickly and then turn back to him, “I won’t if you won’t.”

“Deal.” He answers a little too quickly, and then adds, “Not that I have anything to wear anyway.”

“I would’ve given you something if you wanted. Too late now, though.”

He laughs as I hop out to grab a couple of towels.

After drying off, I walk over to the sink and grab a fresh toothbrush from the cabinet below. It’s brand new and still in the package. I hold it up to show it to him and then set it on the counter, “If you want,” I say before grabbing my own toothbrush and running it under the water.

He picks it up and raises his eyebrows a me, “You do this often enough that you keep these on hand, huh?”

I shake my head to reassure him, “No, they’re Dawn’s. She’s super weird about brushing her teeth all the time. She’s almost always carrying one around. There’s like ten of them down there, she won’t care if you take one.”

“Thank you,” he says sincerely as he opens the package and discards it in the trash. He squeezes toothpaste along the bristles, but then stops and looks up at me.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing. You’re just… you’re really nice.” I can’t quite read the expression on his face when he says this, it’s almost as if the sentiment makes him sad.

In a pitiful attempt to lighten the mood, I tell him, “Well, if it makes you feel any better, it’s purely selfish.”

He gives me a small smile, “Oh yeah? My breath is that bad?”

“No, I just want you to be comfortable. Because the more comfortable you are, the longer you’ll stay.” Instinctually, I lean over and kiss his forehead. I don’t know why, it just felt natural to do so, like I’d done it a hundred times before. As soon as my lips graze his skin, I know that I have. I see it. Many times, in many different places I don’t recognize. On a couch or in a bed or even standing on a beach. It feels so real that it takes me aback.  I pull away and he looks up at me with that same look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, knowing now what’s making him sad. I’m not acting like a friend; I’m acting like a boyfriend. And we both know I can’t give him that. Though, I’m starting to have trouble remembering why. Seems like it’s taking more effort not to. “We should get some sleep,” I say, suddenly feeling exhausted.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute,” he replies, and then turns away to brush his teeth.

I put fresh glasses of water by the bed, turn off the lamp, and lie down, turning to face the wall because I don’t know what I’ll do if I’m facing him when he comes to bed. I don’t trust myself, and I feel like I’ve done enough damage already. He’s probably upset with me, and I wouldn’t blame him if he changed his mind and decided to leave.

I prepare myself for the worst when he finally comes in, but he surprises me by getting into bed, scooting over to me, and pressing his entire body against the length of mine. He wraps his arm around me and squeezes me tight, kissing the back of my shoulder. I don’t know why he’s chosen to be so sweet to me, but I’m grateful for it. I close my eyes and allow myself to relax into him as I drift off to sleep.

Prev // Next

[bucketslutz]

Don't Be Late (professor Logan Howlett/Fem student mutant reader)

Click here for chapter index.

Summary: The aftermath of your drunken night with Logan does not go the way you expect it to. Tensions rise, harsh words are spoken, and feelings get inevitably hurt.

A/N: thank you all so much for the kind words and the support! every comment means the world to me, seriously. my surgery went well, it wasn't very invasive but the nitrous gas knocked me out for most of the day yesterday! thank you to everyone who wished me well. this chapter is a lot more angsty than i was intending to write it but i've been feeling pretty icky in my personal life and i think that's just translated into my writing😅 whoops. i hope y'all enjoy tho!

Warnings: smut!! 18+ minors DNI!!!, swearing, ass slapping, unprotected vaginal sex, p in v, dirty talking, car sex, angry sex, slightly rough sex, orgasm denial if you squint, insults, Logan being kinda mean to reader and vice versa

Word Count: 5,118

Chapter 4

A sharp pain reverberates around your skull. Slowly blinking your eyes open, you eventually adjust to your surroundings. You glare suspiciously at the room around you, apprehensive to move. But your head is pounding, and nausea swirls around your stomach. You groan as you sit up, scanning the area for an indication of where you are. The window to your right is draped in sheer flannel curtains, allowing the morning sunlight to shine in, much to the dismay of your hangover. The log cabin interior is sparsely decorated, save for a pair of antlers mounted above a pine dresser, clothes draped haphazardly along its prongs. The space smells of tobacco and pine. Oh god, you think to yourself, your stomach dropping as you piece the puzzle of your night together in your mind. Logan. This is Logan’s house. And you’re in your underwear. Surely you didn’t...did you? Wouldn’t you remember something like that? Would Logan even want to fuck you? Especially with how drunk you assume you were. You’re pulled from your thoughts with a startle, a knock against the door bringing you back down to earth. Logan calls your name gently from behind it.

“I’ve, uh, got some toast, if you’re hungry,” Logan says, a layer of uncertainty in his voice.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” you reply, clinging the scratchy blanket to your chest. You gather up all the courage you can muster, preparing yourself to face him, assuming you made a complete and utter fool of yourself the night before. You find your pants on the floor and shimmy them up your legs, searching for a mirror you can fix your appearance in. You find the bathroom behind a door on your left and flick the light on, groaning at the harsh pain the bright light brings upon your headache. Once your squinting ceases and your eyes adjust, you almost gasp at how wrecked you look. Your hair is completely disheveled, smudged black eye makeup making your eyes look sunken in. The smudged makeup also doesn’t help the colorless, pale appearance of your skin. You turn the sink’s faucet on, splashing some cold water onto your face. You’re delusional to think that it will do much to help. You try your best to smooth your hair down with your fingers, taking a deep breath in preparation for whatever you may face in Logan’s living room.

You meekly open the door of his bedroom, scanning the area in front of you quickly before stepping out. His bedroom is situated on the second level of his house, the door of his room leading out to a mezzanine. From here, you can see Logan sat on a leather couch in the middle of his living space, puffing on a cigar. Despite his home having this mezzanine, it isn’t full of grandiosity. It’s lit fairly dimly, the ceiling flat above your head but vaulted above Logan’s. Everything looks hand crafted, with slight imperfections in each cut of wood that sustains the structure of the cabin. 

You walk slowly down the stairs, each step making your head throb. Heading towards the couch, you decide to sit as far from him as you can manage, feeling the most awkward you’ve ever felt around him since you’ve met. He reaches his cigar’d hand towards the coffee table, stuffing it out onto the ashtray that’s already littered with old, dead cigars. He slides a plate of cold toast in your direction before he gets up. You mutter a meek thanks as he walks to the kitchen that’s nestled under the mezzanine. You manage a bite of the toast, hoping it will alleviate your nausea slightly. It doesn’t, but it does feel good to have something in your stomach. Logan returns to the living room and sets a mug in front of you, grunting as he sits back down on the couch. He seemingly has no care with being in your proximity, as he moves closer to you than from where he was before.

“Thank you,” you grumble in appreciation, reaching for the mug of black coffee. Wincing as you sip, you wish you could make that Colombian dark roast without Logan noticing. He doesn’t say anything in response to your thanks, simply nodding as he sips from his own mug of coffee. There’s a loaded moment of silence, neither one of you brave enough to say anything yet. Maybe you did something in your drunken stupor to offend him. Or maybe something happened and he feels too awkward and ashamed to do anything about it. It’s killing you to not know, and causing you to worry even further that something bad might’ve happened. You decide to swallow your anxiety.

“Um, did we..?” you break the silence, trailing off, feeling too awkward to finish the sentence.

“What? Fuck?” he finishes, rather casually, a slight furrow to his brow. His candor made you almost choke on your coffee. 

“Believe me, princess, you were in no state,” he chuckles with a shake of his head, you exhale in relief, glad you didn’t do anything too stupid, “Wouldn’t be much fun that way, anyways,” he mutters into his mug.

A wave of heat rushes to your cheeks. The nickname, the sexual innuendo. Surely that was flirting, wasn’t it? A part of your brain knows this is so highly inappropriate. Your professor got you so drunk the night before that you had to crash in his bed, and now openly flirts with you the morning after. But the other half of your brain wants to know just how fun fucking him would be.

“How much do you remember?” he asks, turning his head towards you. Shifting your weight under his stare, you focus your thoughts, trying to remember as much as you can.

“I remember our first couple games of pool,” you start, looking up at the ceiling as you try and recall further, “I remember splitting the shot of tequila…I remember the lemon drops I made you drink…And I remember....” You trail off, remembering something far worse than a potential sexual encounter with Logan. The man. His body flying across the room from the force of your kick. Logan saw you, everyone in that bar saw you. You need to get out of here.

“You know, I think I should head home actually,” you deflect, trying your best to seem as collected as possible. You stand from the couch, not entirely sure where you’re supposed to go from here.

“Your ride’s still at the bar, you were in no condition, believe me,” Logan assures, standing up with you. He walks towards his dining table and retrieves what you recognize as your purse. He hands it to you along with your shoes, you offer a tight smile as a thanks. “I’ll give you a lift to the bar.”

…

The ride back to the bar has been silent, the only sound being the engine of Logan’s truck growling down the road. Your mind is slowly becoming less and less shrouded to the events of the night before. You recall more of the tension between the two of you, his hands supporting you when you fell, the times he called you princess, the way he bit the lime in half when he split that shot of tequila.

“This wasn’t what I was tryin’ to do,” Logan mumbles, suddenly breaking the silence. You snap your head towards him, confused by what he’s attempting to say.

“What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t tryna get you shitfaced. I just…wanted you to relax,” he admits, turning his head to you briefly before promptly turning his focus back to the road. That wasn’t his intention? Really? You suddenly recall talking to him about how you don’t like clear liquor, yet he still shoved those shots in your face. Sure, you were playing a game. But you were being playful in ordering him fruity drinks as punishment, he made you violently hungover and in a state of delirium.

“Is that your way of apologizing?” you snap, narrowing your eyes at him. Logan looks taken aback by your sudden frustration.

“Sorry?” Logan responds, his voice begging offense as his head tilts like a confused puppy.

“Oh, so that word is in your vocabulary. Great. Apology accepted. I really appreciate you taking responsibility for getting me unbelievably shitfaced on liquor I told you I couldn’t drink,” you sass, crossing your arms in frustration.

“Alright, bub, sure,” Logan scoffs, laughing you off as if you’re no serious threat. Which pisses you off even more.

“I’m serious. Did you honestly think I was enjoying myself puking in your toilet for hours?” you question rhetorically, trying to get him to understand, “Maybe you like being dysfunctional, but not everyone else likes being blackout drunk on their Friday nights while getting into bar fights.” You sit back in your seat and turn as far out to the window as you physically can.

“Hey! I didn’t make you do shit,” Logan counters pointing his finger accusatorially at you, “The whole goddamned game was your stupid idea.”

“Oh, wow, that’s a really good observation, Logan. You didn’t make me do anything. The drunk girl with impaired judgement made a decision and should face the consequences of her actions,” you remark sarcastically, your arms gesturing with each emphasis you make, “Wow, ‘ya sure you’re a history professor? Because you’d be great teaching Date Rape 101.”

“Date Rape 101?” he scoffs, barely coherent, before continuing, “And whose goddamn self defense classes are you taking, eh? Wonder Woman’s?”

You freeze. Unable to form a retort. What can you say? There’s no explanation for what you did last night. It was inhuman.

“What? Got nothin’ to say, princess?” he spat, gritting his teeth. You scoff and roll your eyes in disbelief at his attitude. His car approaches the shallow gravel lot belonging to the bar. Saved by the bell, you think to yourself. He puts it in park.

“Go fuck yourself, Logan,” you bark, your tone low and deadly as you throw the car door open and stomp out. You motion to slam it, but you hesitate when a thought crosses your mind, “And buying your student drinks is extremely inappropriate and against, like, so many code of conducts,” you remark sassily before slamming his car door shut. You fish for your keys in your bag, fighting to not look behind you and watch as Logan pulls out of the parking lot, before aggressively driving away. You growl in frustration once you step into your car, holding yourself back from slamming your head against the steering wheel. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if you were mad at him or yourself for being so careless.

…

Saturday was spent nursing yourself back to health, doing nothing but laying in bed, doomscrolling on your phone in an attempt to numb your mind from the anger you felt towards your professor. The audacity to put you in that kind of position. You got so drunk you were almost unconscious, you were almost groped by a stranger, and you risked revealing your powers to him and all those strangers in the bar. How stupid were you to believe that you could have a fun evening with someone like him. An abrasive, impolite, selfish asshole that’s incapable of taking any responsibility for his actions. If you feel this way, then why do you wish you stayed in his bed a little bit longer? Why do you wish he made a move on you on his couch? Why do still want him? It makes you want to rip your hair out. How can he have this effect on you? And why him? What’s so fucking special about him that your affections are intertwined with his? No one has ever made you feel this connected in your life. It’s like there’s been an invisible string between the two of you since you’ve met, and it’s so strong that nothing can separate it. You hate him, you do, but you want him. God, you’d give anything to fuck him now. His actions from last night honestly fanning the flames of your desire even further. You don’t know why, you hate his guts right now. It almost seems that in order for you to release your anger and frustration with him, your body wants to fuck. Hard.

It’s gotten to the point where you can’t think about how mad you are at him without getting unbelievably turned on. You just want him to slam you down onto his bed and fuck you into tomorrow, leaving bites down your neck as you scratch red marks into his back. Despite your growing arousal, you’re too tired to want to relieve yourself, opting to succumb to sleep instead. You think about Logan calling you “princess” as you fall asleep.

“You got nothing to say, princess?” Logan spat from the driver’s seat, angling his head towards yours after putting the truck in park.

“Asshole,” you mumble through gritted teeth. You remain fixed on the expanse of gravel road in front of you, lit only by the headlights of Logan’s truck. Logan chuckles in disbelief, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jesus, Logan, you’re a fucking asshole!”

“It takes one to fucking know one, baby, and you’ve been a real mess all day,” Logan retorts, waving his arms in the air in frustration. “It seems whenever you got a problem with yourself you turn it around on me. I’m not a person you can dump your shit onto!”

“I’m not dumping anything! You don’t fucking listen to me!” you scowl, finally turning your body towards him.

“Oh, believe me, bub, if you had to hear yourself half the time I do, you’d understand why I tune you out!”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed.

“You heard me!” Logan growled, dismissing you with a wave of his hand.

“Fuck you!” you snap, venom on your tongue and a furious expression on your face.

“Fuck you!” Logan snaps back, sliding towards you on the truck’s bench seat to get in your face.

“Fuck you!” you raise your voice louder than his, squaring up to him, not allowing him to corner you in the car and get the upper hand. Your faces are inches from each other now, your angry pants fanning the other’s face. You can see a shift in Logan’s eyes, twisting from raging embers of anger, to dark and lustful in a second. His eyes flick down to your lips, then back up to join your gaze again. His lips hesitate between keeping the distance, and floating towards yours, like he’s being pulled by a magnet. You don’t want him, you hate him right now, but god how you want him.

“You’re an asshole,” you mumble quickly before his lips crash hastily onto yours. He swallows you, generously flicking his tongue in and out of his mouth. You tangle your tongue with his, grasping the back of his neck with need. Logan hooks both his arms around you, pulling you as close to his chest as he can manage. With each aggressive nip and suck to your lips, the stronger your arousal swirls within you. You tuck your legs under you, sitting up on your knees, as you push him back onto the bench of the truck. You straddle him, pressing your full weight onto his pelvis and reveling in the feel of his hard cock pressed firmly against your core. His hips buck into yours, hands traveling down the expanse of your body before sliding under the hem of your tank top. You aggressively grind your hips down onto his, causing Logan to growl lowly into your mouth. Your fingers travel to Logan’s scalp, gripping his hair with intensity and ferocity while your other is pressed firmly against his chest for leverage as you continue grinding into him. Your skirt has hiked up almost completely all the way, leaving just your lacy underwear as your only barrier against his jean-clad cock. So preoccupied with his lips on yours and the friction against your clit, you failed to notice that Logan has unclasped your bra and is fighting to pull your tank top over your head. Before you even get a chance to sit up and adjust, Logan loses his patience, using both his hands to rip your tank in half with ease. Any other day, you would give a shit and chastise him for being so careless, but right now, you want nothing more than to fuck the shit out of him. You grab him by the collar and sit him up without breaking the kiss, allowing him the freedom to slip your bra off of you and let your tits spring free.

You fiddle with the buttons at the collar of his shirt, growing increasingly frustrated with them. You decide to take a page from Logan’s book and rip the front of his shirt open, sending buttons ricocheting throughout the truck. Logan growls in approval, pulling you closer to his chest. He breaks the kiss, biting and sucking up and down the expanse of your neck causing you to elicit a guttural moan in response. Logan’s becoming more and more ferocious with his movements the longer your hips grind down onto his. Removing his mouth from your neck, he bares his lower teeth before shoving you back so he’s now sitting up above you. He unbuttons his pants with ease before pulling his cock out, clearly eager to fuck you already. You spread your legs in anticipation, your skirt scrunched up to your ribcage, your bare chest heaving. He reaches for the waistband of your panties and hurriedly yanks them down your legs, throwing them behind him without a care. He barely takes any time to line himself up before he bottoms out into your tight pussy with a growl from his lips. You gasp in a mixture of sheer bliss and sharp pain. Logan hunches over your figure, grunting into your ear as he begins his rapid, hard thrusts into your core. Your moans are high pitched, overwhelmed with the pleasure he brings to your aching pussy.

“Take it,” he growls into your ear before bringing his mouth down to the crook of your neck and biting. Hard. A pained moan escapes your lips. He grunts with each powerful thrust into you, spearing you in half, causing tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. Each time he rocks into you, your moans grow more desperate, embarrassingly high pitched. Logan pulls his face away from your neck, maintaining eye contact with you as he brings a hand to your throat and squeezes.

“That’s right, take this cock,” he husks, his voice barely below a growl as he watches you get absolutely wrecked by the way he’s pounding into your pussy. The pressure to your neck makes you lightheaded, the pleasure overwhelming you.

“Yes…fuck,” you groan, your words of encouragement being broken up by each of Logan’s hard thrusts inside of you. Logan’s noises are animalistic above you, his teeth bared, his hand squeezed around your throat possessively. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take with his cock stretching and spearing you the way that it is. Just as you think you’re ready to pass out, Logan’s thrusts stutter to a stop. Removing the hand from your throat, he pulls out. You whine at the sudden emptiness, and watch Logan sit up above you, his chest heaving.

“All fours for me, babygirl,” he commands, gesturing to the space behind him for you to crawl to as he lazily strokes his cock. You oblige immediately, crawling past him to the other end of the bench seat. You arch your back in anticipation, gyrating your ass to entice him. He gives your rear a harsh smack causing you to moan lightly.

“D’you like that, princess?” he rasps, the gravel in his voice making you clench. He gives you another smack making you moan more, desperate for him to keep fucking you.

“Logan, please,” you whine, eagerly moving your hips backwards in an attempt to feel his cock against you.  

“You want it?” he teases, you can hear his cocky smile.

“Yes,” you reply breathlessly, squeezing your thighs together for some kind of friction as Logan gently massages the tender flesh of your ass. You gasp when a hand shoots up to your hair, Logan grabs a fistful and forcefully pulls you up so your back is flush with his chest. From here you can feel the stiffness of his cock against your ass. You whimper, grinding your ass into him as you’re desperate for a release. Logan’s hips adjust, feeling his length prod at your entrance before he spears into you, completely stretching you out. You gasp as he hits your cervix, starting his thrusts slowly before pushing you back down onto your hands. Keeping his hand in your hair, he uses his other hand to grip your shoulder for leverage, before bucking into you hard. You groan, pressing your hands against the car door for support as his pace quickens, his belt jingling rhythmically with the pace of his hips. You almost feel pain from the way he prods your cervix, but his pace is so fast you barely have enough time to register it. Your moans grow lewd and high pitched, the slap of his skin against your ass, the pulling of your hair, his grunting and moaning and panting. It’s all so vulgar and feral. 

“Tell me I’m right,” he grunts, his teeth bared and grip on you tightening.

“Lo-gan,” you grunt, trying your best to form a sentence, but his thrusts move your whole body and you can’t speak when he fucks you like this. He lets go of your hair, bending over you to whisper in your ear.

“Tell me that I was right and you were wrong, and I’ll keep fucking this pretty pussy,” he husks, his gruff voice tempting you as his cock twitches inside of you. God, you want to, but you’re stubborn. You know you’ll never live this down and he’ll continuously hold it over your head for as long as you live. You crane your neck behind you, flashing him a sultry look, fluttering your eyelashes.

“No,” you whisper, pressing a firm hand to his chest and pushing him off of you, his dick popping out of you as he sits back in disbelief.

“No?” he asks incredulously. You spin around situating yourself on the seat as he stares at you blankly.

“No,” you clarify simply, smoothing your hair down and collecting yourself. You find your panties on the floor and slip them on. Logan slides towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck before kissing up and down it. You shrug him off, bringing your hand up to his face and gripping his jaw lightly so he’s forced to make eye contact with you. Eyes flit down to your lips hungrily, like he’s a dog begging for his chew toy.

“We’ll see how long you last without my pussy,” you murmur, letting his lips float just inches from yours, as he’s barely able to resist capturing your lips in a kiss. But you won’t let him.

This is the first time in a week you’ve woken up without an orgasm on your fingertips. You feel quite confused, unsure of what to make of this dream. It was just as vivid as the others, but the abrupt ending didn’t leave you begging for more from him. For once, you’re not dreading his class tomorrow, ready to face him and whatever kind of attitude he wants to throw your way.

…

It’s Monday morning and you approach Logan Howlett’s class with the utmost confidence. What could he do to you? Call you out in front of the class? What would he gain from that? You could just report him to the Dean, hell, you could report him to the president of the university. You could do that now even, but he hasn’t forced your hand yet. His actions today, however, could.

You push the door open, filing in with a few other classmates, trying your best to avoid looking towards Logan at the head of the room. You pull out your notebook, attempting to focus on nothing but his lecture and his lesson plan. No distractions today.

You startle when something is slammed in front of you onto your desk, as if Logan could read your thoughts and wanted to disturb you as much as possible by simply handing you back your essay that he must’ve graded. You avoid looking at him, which isn’t hard considering he walked away almost immediately after throwing the pages on your desk. You huff as you flip the it over, much to your surprise, there’s a huge red zero scrawled at the top of your page. You’re taken aback, trying to flip through the pages so you can understand why he gave you no credit. But he offered no explanation, no notes in any of the margins. Goddamnit, you’re the only person who turned it in on time! You should be getting extra credit for that alone. You try and glare at him, hoping he’ll meet your gaze, but he avoids you with expertise. That fucking bastard. 

You stew in your seat for the rest of class. Finding it almost impossible to focus on the lecture with how much more pissed you are at Logan. What reason would Logan have to be that petty? You did the work goddamnit, he can’t withhold a grade just because you yelled at him. What an immature, insecure, stupid man. You can’t believe you were ever attracted to someone so chauvinistic and egotistical. You’d have half a mind if you didn’t go to the President about his behavior, he shouldn’t be allowed to continue teaching here or anywhere. Not when you’re done with him. And you want him to know that. You want him to feel powerless to stop you from taking his job away from him.

The clock strikes 10 and Logan zips out of class swiftly, you attempt to follow, maneuvering out from behind your row as quickly as possible. You turn out the classroom, spotting him further down the hall. Tailing him through doorways and corridors, you finally find him at his destination: his office. You take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for whatever he might throw your way. Without knocking, you swing the door open, promptly shutting it behind you. Mimicking his actions from earlier, you slam your essay in front of his face, staring at him with venom.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you snap, your face twisted into a furious scowl.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Logan asks, feigning ignorance, staring up at you with a coldness in his eyes.

“You’re a child,” you scoff, “What, you couldn’t handle getting yelled at so you take that out on my grade?”

“I don’t know what you mean. Maybe you should give that essay again another read,” he remarks as matter of factly as possible, trying his best to hide his thinly veiled anger.

“Bullshit. Fix my grade,” you command, reaching over the desk and shoving the pages closer towards him.

“I’m not fixing shit, now get out,” Logan barks sternly, sliding a drawer in his desk open and pulling out a silver leather-cased flask. He takes a generous swig, barely flinching when he gulps, causing you to scoff and roll your eyes.

“You’re unbelievable,” you huff in disbelief. A grown-ass man, drinking in the middle of the day while he’s still at work.

“You got a problem, bub?” he frowns at you before taking another swig of his liquor.

“What problem don’t I have with you!?” you exclaim, throwing your arms in the air in frustration, “You’re inexplicably nice to me on the first day of class, then you tell me to fuck off half of the time you see me, then you suddenly feel bad for me and take me out for pity drinks where you shove liquor down my throat like you wanted me to get sick! You’re abrasive, you’re bad at your job, you’re irresponsible and I could almost hate you for—“

Something in Logan snaps, causing him to stand up abruptly, slamming his palms flat on his desk before coming out from behind it to get in your face.

“I didn’t fucking ask for this!” he barks pointing at you aggressively, with each continuation of his thought, he steps closer to you, causing you to back away from his advances, “Do you think I want to be in that fucking classroom everyday, reading from a bullshit textbook with bullshit facts…Lecturing half-drunk, spoiled, rich, asshole 20 year olds who could give two shits about what I have to fucking say!”

You say nothing, letting him back you into a corner with each sling of curses and frustrations he barks at you. You can’t help the tears that well in your eyes as he gets closer and closer to your face.

“Don’t even get me fucking started on this shy, timid wallflower act you put on every day! If you think you’re fooling everyone with that performance, then you must be too goddamned stupid to be here! Stop wasting your time; wastin’ everyone’s goddamned time! Do us all a favor, pack up your bullshit and leave before you push someone else through a wall!”

Logan’s face is inches from yours now, lower teeth bared as he pants furiously, face red from anger. Tears prick your eyes and threaten to roll down your cheeks, you can’t help it, his words dug a knife into your chest. Is that what he really thinks of you? Is that really what you should do? You know what, fuck what he thinks, fuck him and his opinions. What the hell does he know about academia, you think to yourself. You inhale shakily, trying your best to choke down a sob as you twist your face into a hateful scowl.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, a stray tear rolling down your cheek despite your best efforts to uphold the angered front you wanted to put forward. You shove past him and back towards his desk, collecting your essay before starting towards the door. Your hand reaches the handle, you hesitate before you leave. Wanting to turn around, wanting him to maybe even stop you. But he’s fixed, his breathing remaining the same angered pace. With tears now unabashedly running down your cheeks, you leave, drafting the email you’re going to send to the president’s office in your head.

...

A/N: ouch :/ this one hurt to write lowkey. i had to put some smut in there to balance this one out because i started feeling too bad for all of the angst. again, all the kind words of support and encouragement make me so happy. i check my email a million times a day so i can see if someone left a comment. it motivates me a lot to keep this going, which is why im churning chapters out so fast. thank you all🫶🏻 leave your guesses for who you think the president of the university is below and any other x men characters you hope to see in the future!

also, i'm thinking about recommending a song to go with each chapter, i listen to music a lot when i write so i wanted to know what y'all thought about that! click here to view on ao3

Tags: @wolviesgirl @sanemis-piss

[syoddeye]

kinktober - day 21 - bath

ghost x transmasc!reader | 1.2k words | part of spoils cw: rape/noncon, bathing, choking, spanking, spitting a/n: like the rest of spoils—cunt, cock, and clit are used to describe genitalia of a transmasc reader’s body. reader has/had body hair, and hair long enough to grab. summary: you always leave simon’s company bleeding.  banner by @/cafekitsune | kinktober list

“Missed a spot.”

Simon rolls his shoulders, reclining like an emperor in repose, thick arms settling along the edge of the bath. With his eyes closed, you risk glaring at him as he lifts a massive leg out of the water, hooks your shoulder with his heel, and lets it rest. 

“My calf, Snipe.”

With a noiseless sigh, you dip the cloth into the sudsy water, attempt to adjust the weight of his limb, and start scrubbing slow circles into his pale muscles. Simon’s legs aren’t as mutilated as his face or torso, but your fingertips find the divots of old scars regardless. He doesn’t make a sound as you go, both of you pretending your speed reflects precision and attentiveness. You prefer to delay his post-wash routine for as long as possible. He tolerates it like a cat abides a bird with a broken wing. You’re not going anywhere, so why rush?

You ease his foot off when you finish, then edge toward the other side of the expansive tub. Simon usually soaks while you tend yourself, but he trips you beneath the water, sending you stumbling. Glancing back, eyes wide with confusion, you find him staring.

“Still sore from yesterday?”

Of course, you’re sore. Simon and Kyle are merciless teachers, flipping and tossing you onto their sparring mats, pushing and pinning—and that was before they fucked you stupid.

“Yes, sir.”

“Fetch a towel and c’mere.”

Simon herds you into the vast space between his legs, lathers soap, and then settles a broad hand on your waist to steady you. When the cloth meets your torso, you don’t flinch but swiftly avert your eyes. John’s bathed you before. Kyle’s wiped the sweat from your brow. Soap’s licked you clean. But it feels more perverse for Simon to do it. Wrong.

You suffer no delusion that it is anything other than another power play. It is not tenderness or intimacy. Simon scrubs your skin with mechanical precision, working across your body in long, indifferent strokes as if washing one of the hunting dogs. You see only detached obligation on his face. Like this is part of the ritual, a grim task before he defiles you all over again.

Inevitably, he tosses you over the edge of the tub onto your stomach. The smooth stone scratches your belly and cheek. Steam curls as he passes the cloth over the backs of your thighs and ass. You jolt when the towel abruptly drops in a wet heap beside your face.

He traces a finger over a sore spot. 

“Who ‘ad you last night?”

“Soap, sir.”

“Did you fight ‘im?”

You blink hard and try to twist your neck to look at him. “I didn’t—”

His palm cracks against your ass, the wet slap echoing off the tile. Your hands reflexively scrabble at the floor to haul yourself out of reach, but he yanks you backward for a second strike. Your legs kick and splash.

“What? Didn’t think you could? Think Gaz and I would waste our time trainin’ ya if ‘adn’t earned the privilege?”

The revelation shocks you into another stuttering pause, earning a third slap, and realization propels you to try and dodge a fourth. His hand connects with your hip as you roll, and you kick out again, finding his gut. Beneath the layer of fat, though, is muscle, and it’s like hitting stone. He quickly snatches up your wrist after failing to deflect once more. Water displaced from the bath sloshes onto the floor, gliding beneath your tender back as you struggle with him.

Frustration putrefies your stomach, a sick anger curdling breakfast. Defending yourself isn’t a privilege; it’s something that keeps your imprisonment interesting. Ever since you killed Soap in the woods and drove a borrowed blade into his neck—they’ve been more observant. Intentional. Not in the least bit afraid of your new teeth, but cognizant of potential, the bite, or so you flatter yourself. Deep down, you understand it’s a new way to play with their food. 

Simon wrenches your arm into the air, and when you kick perilously close to the monster between his legs, he forces yours apart. He easily avoids a clumsy punch from your free hand and seizes you by the neck mid-shriek. The pressure chokes it to a panicked whimper, and you claw futilely at his ironclad grip. Bullying his way closer, he forcibly bends you as he presses flush to your body, your calves slippery around his hips. His cock twitches atop your belly, weeping and slicked from the bathwater.

You’re out of breath, and he isn’t even winded.

He makes you practice punches, absorbing your pathetic excuses for hits on his chest as he probes at your tighter hole, fingers spit-soaked and stretching. Three fingers in, and you can’t lift your hands. Your arms lay useless beside your ears as you whine and writhe. He sneers, replacing his fingers with the flushed head of his cock, and licks his gnarled lip. You grit your teeth, chirping incoherent complaints, face going rigid with pain as he shoves his way in.

“Maybe next time you’ll try ‘arder.”

There’s a second of reprieve when he pulls out, and no more. He snaps his hips, stuffing back in and setting the same brutal pace he always uses. You don’t realize you’re wailing until his thumb corks your mouth.

Sucking is a reflex. He coos, but the words fizzle before they ever reach your ears. He fucks you on the wet stone, each thrust scraping skin, leaving it raw. You always leave Simon’s company bleeding. 

He pulls his thumb free and finds your neglected cock, swiping over its length.

Again, you’re reminded that nothing—not even your pleasure—is for you. He jiggles your engorged clit like an afterthought, but it works all the same. 

The lewd sound of him hammering into you fills the chamber. He leans forward, bracing a hand over one of your limp arms, bringing the pad of his stomach to yours. He grunts and spits a wad of saliva, missing your mouth but landing on your cheek. Your mouth mistakenly parts in disgust, and he repeats it, this time hitting your tongue. Watching you instinctively swallow only riles him up. He grins with smug satisfaction and renews his effort with your cock.

“Fuck, you tightened up,” Simon hisses. “‘Course ya like that, glutton for punishment, aren’tcha.” 

You yelp high in your throat, shaking your head violently in denial.

He laughs a deep and mean sound. “Yeah, you do. C’mon, be a good boy, and give it another squeeze.”

Trapped beneath his bulk and helpless to do anything but take it, you come screaming. Your cunt clenches around nothing until his hand slips from your twitching cock to cram its fingers in to pet the spasming muscles.  

“Simon–!”

He releases your arm to smother your cries, brutally pistoning his fingers, unable to match the erratic rhythm of his thrusts. You don’t come again, you can’t, not so soon—but your holes tense and tighten anyway, and he comes with a bitten-off curse in long, thick ropes buried inside you. He slows to languidly hump you.

It takes several painful minutes for him to ease out. You feel full, yet with your innards rearranged, like a house ransacked.

You lie there trembling as he wipes himself off and climbs out of the tub. The water’s gone tepid. Naked, he looms over you, then nudges at your shoulder with a foot. 

“Filthy thing. Clean yourself up, before John finds you.”

[anemptypuddingcup]

I’ll give you something to gnaw on.

Luffy x Female Zombie!Reader.

Smut short.

Idea from my bbygirl @milkzoro, their roles are just switched. This is also for her! Love you!

also tagging @coocoocatchoo, @bowsa-jr, @pileofmush & @kingofthe-egirls

Contains: Not much context on story. Reader is somewhat a playful zombie. Reader still having some of her remaining mind left. Reader understanding…a few words. A bit goofy in a way in the beginning. Dry humping & grinding. Yes….Luffy is having sex with a zombie that zombie being you. WAIT SO DOES THAT MEAN THIS IS NECROPHILIA!? Lemme stfu it’s overall wholesome. Reader being referred as peach for my baby.

“Okay- So what should I do w’ya? I can’ jus leave ya here foreva.”

Luffy stared at your semi-lifeless eyes, a bit of drool and dried blood seeping at the corners of your cloth gag. You continuously chew and gnaw on the cloth, assuming that it was something to eat. Though the more you chewed, the more you began to grow upset at the fact that you couldn’t swallow it. “Oi, that ain’ food Y’know peach-“ He groans, pinching your cheek. You growl out lazily to him, your cold and pale green hand pressing up against his wrist softly. “Why do I even bother, ya just a walkin’ dead body.” Luffy sighed.

You perk up at his words and look up at him, giving him a blank little stare which catches him off guard. You slowly turn over and crawl onto his lap, startling him even more and making him scoot back and away from you. “T-Th’hell?-“ Luffy stammers, a bit surprised that your movements weren’t so…lifeless anymore. You slowly press your hands to his shoulders and tilt your head slowly at him, a lifeless groan leaving you as your rough fingertips scratched his soft and tanned skin.

“O-Oi! What’s up w’ya peachy!? Ya were jus actin’ all dumb a lil while ago!” Luffy asks you, making you flinch back a bit. You press your mouth to his shoulder and huff out angrily, trying to bite into his thick layer of skin. He smirks and snickers before pulling you back and away from him. “Ehh? So ya ain as dumb as I thought? Ya still a lil’ slow, but smart at th’same time. Such a good gal ain’tcha peachy?” He compliments, pushing you away from him.

You groan out and claw lazily at his skin, reaching up before getting a grasp on his face. “Oi!-“ He pulls and furrows his brows, pulling your hands away and off of his face. You were persistent and continued to reach for his face, making him grip your wrist tightly and pull it away. “Dammit stop tryin’ t’touch me peachy!” Luffy groans out irritably, his teeth clenching tight as he pushes you away once again.

Your mind obviously didn’t understand the word no, and in a desperate attempt you continue to reach for him and try to get a bite out of him. A bit fed up with your struggling, he shoves you down into the couch cushions and sighs out as you begin to squirm around angrily. You groan out playfully, your legs and arms thrashing around slowly as you struggled and resist against him.

“O-Oi! S-Sit still!”

Luffy struggled to keep you still and a shaky groan spills past his lips as you continue to squirm beneath him. The more you moved, the more he began to grow hard and you obviously didn’t notice it until a bit later.

He sighs out shakily as he felt more irritated, knowing he couldn’t please himself around someone (or something half dead) like you without feeling weird meant that he obviously wouldn’t be able to take care of it.

At least he thought that…

He seemed to notice you growing more sedated and quiet as you felt his hot length pressed against your warm clothed cunt, and with that an idea begins to stir up in his mind. Your movements had stopped and you were just staring up at him with those cloudy lifeless eyes.

He felt butterflies stir up in his tummy, he couldn’t think to fuck you while you were obviously unable to think for feel for yourself. He slowly backs up off of you with the thought but you were stubborn.

You crawl over closer to him and he tries to shove you away. “Oi! No! Get away-“ He yells, not wanting you to get closer to him. Of course you disobeyed. You weakly grabs his hips and press your face closer against his erection, making him jump and struggle to shove you away. “OI! W-What’s w’ya! Get off!” He yells, slight moans leaving him as he watches you press your mouth against the fabric of his shorts.

He couldn’t help but sit there and watch as you tried to do whatever you were trying to do. Though sitting there and allowing to just sit there with your face against his crotch was just agonizing itself, his hand pressing up against your head and pushes you away once again. Even though you struggled, Luffy could tell that you had a sudden interest with his hard on. “Y-Ya…G-Get away from there peachy..Ya can’ be down there near m’dick like that…” Luffy demands, his breath hitching as he stared down at you.

You blink slowly yet blankly as he pulls you up back onto his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck and you smush your cold cheek up against his warm face. He sighs and pulls you closer to him, but a sudden movement against his erection causes him to jolt and hiss out. He feels you weakly grinding your hips against his, his hands slowly trailing down to your chilly hips.

He grips your hips and begins dragging your cunt along his hard cock, a groan leaving both him and you. “Ah~ Y-Ya don’t mind this…do ya peachy?” He asked, exhaling sharply as he begins to hump up into your cunt. Your weak grasp grows a bit tighter against him and a moan leaves your lips as you felt sudden warmth and stimulation shooting throughout your lower tummy and your cunt. You grip his shirt and begin to move your hips a bit faster, pressing your mouth up against his shoulder again.

“Ah~ F-Fuck…Ya so warm down there~” Luffy hums, pulling you closer to him. You mewl out to him, now letting go of his shoulders and laying back onto the couch. Luffy continues to grind up into your pussy, the feeling of your legs pulling him in closer making his eyes widen with excitement. He smirks and pulls your hips in more, huffing out shakily.

“Ahhh~ F-Fuck it. Here lemme take ya shorts off-“ Luffy groans out, his hands gripping and pulling your shorts off. A trail of thick slick disconnects from your pussy to the fabric of your shorts, and a groan leaves your lips as you felt the chilly air hit against your pussy. Luffy pulls his joggers and briefs down a bit, revealing his long and thick length to you.

He presses his shaft against your pussy lips and you shudder from the warmth, your eyes wincing slightly from his length pulsating against your cunt. He begins to slide his along your cunt, grinding and sliding it deep within your pussy. You whimper out, moving your hands up to your blush-dusted cheeks while Luffy concentrates on his pleasure. His tip continuously bumps up against your clit as he grinds into your pussy, now growing close to shoving his length past your entrance.

Your slick gives Luffy’s cock more lubricant, causing him to slide and grind into you a bit faster. His hands grips your cold thighs tightly and he begins to grow more vocal, a few heavy groans leaving him as he bit his bottom lip tight. His brows begin to furl as he whines out shakily, desperate to get a bit more friction or at least slide the tip inside of you.

Though felt that he couldn’t do that, not without your permission anyway.

“Hah~ Fuck ya pussy feels good~” He huffs, his body lying down and pressing up against yours, your breasts squishing against his scarred chest. You let out a little mewl and began to wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him in closer a bit more. He sighs out and smiles down at you, his hand moving from your hips and up to your face. He moves your hands and cups your face, his eyes half-lidded as he stared down into yours.

He was still grinding into your pussy and he watched your face twist and contort from the pleasure. They were rather adorable to him. He sighs out and presses his lips against yours, the cloth gag being the only barrier between your both. He pulls back and presses his face into your breasts while you stared at him, dazed and stunned.

“Lemme fuck ya…can I fuck ya peaches..? Will ya let me do it…?” He asks you, looking up into eyes. You tilt your head and Luffy move in close to your ear, whispering the question once again. “Can I…Can I fuck ya?” He whispers, his hand trailing along the cold skin of your neck. Your eyes widen in response and you let out a little noise before looking down at him. You slowly sit up, your hands pressing down against the soft couch cushions as you sat your own body up.

You scoot back and open your legs to him, breathing shakily yet thickly against him. Luffy sits up and stares down at you, watching as you struggled to get what appeared to be a form of words out. Luffy quickly pulls down the gag and pulls his hand away, watching as you finally spoke to him for the first time.

“Nngh…Y-Yessss- Mmghyesss!” You say, shaking yours head up and down slowly while Luffy watched. Luffy chuckles before pulling the cloth gag back into your mouth, tighten it so it wouldn’t fall off.

With your approval, Luffy wastes no time pressing his tip against your entrance and slowly thrusting in. You groan and gasp out, slowly throwing your head back as you felt his cock enter inside of you. It was warm and thick, stretching your warm walls as he entered with ease. “Mmgh~ Ahhh~” You gasp out, your hands reaching back up to cup your own face. Luffy grabs your arms and places them around his neck, giving you his toothy grin while he did so.

You kept your legs wrapped tight around his hips as he begins to thrust into you, gasping out as he felt your walls suck him in. Your breasts bounced at every thrust, each one harder than the last. “Mmgh~ Mmmh~” You mewl out and turn your head away, your brows furrowing as the pleasure began to hit you hard like a brick. Luffy groaned out while he stared down into your eyes, a few whines leaving him as he begins to pound into you.

“Mmgh Fuck! Hah, ya pussy is s’good~ Y-Ya s’warm and soft inside and s’sticky~” Luffy moans out, pressing his face up against your neck.

Even if you were a cold and lifeless walking corpse, your insides were still all warm and snug around his cock. A breathless and scratchy moan left your lips as you felt him thrust deep inside of you, his arms holding on to your legs while he pounds into your cunt. Your toes curls unconsciously from the pleasure and your hands were practically tearing Luffy’s t-shirt strap. Your teeth clenches tight against the cloth gag while your eyes shuts tight from the pleasure.

Your grasp begins to slip from Luffy’s t-shirt as you felt yourself melting on his cock, the pleasure was so wonderful yet so strong. His cock made your whole body feel hot and fluffy, yet you felt your insides melting while they were being churned by Luffy’s dick. “Ah! Ah!~” You gasp out and arch your back as you felt something wanting to rush out of you, your orgasm was growing close and Luffy had noticed.

A giggle leaves past his lips as he felt you tighten a bit more on his length, he knew how close you were and he couldn’t wait any longer to see your cute face once you cum. “Ahh? Peaches! Ya close ain’tcha?~ Ya gonna cum baby?” He asks you, chuckling as he continues to pound into your pussy. You lied there breathless, yet you gasp and moaned out as you felt yourself wanting to cum. It was a very very strong feeling.

You whimper out and a heavy gasp leaves you as you felt Luffy hit you hard against your g-spot. Luffy presses soft smooches against your cold green skin, pressing kisses all on your scars along your neck and collarbone. You release his t-shirt and place your hands on his shoulders, a sigh leaving you as you arch your back once again. “Mmgh! Nngh!~ Mmh!” You whimper and squirm around, your walls pulsating and fluttering around Luffy’s cock as you finally felt yourself ready to release.

Luffy continues to pound into your cunt and you let out a loud mewl, your cunt finally cumming around his length. “Mmmh! Ahhh~” You gasp and whine out shakily while Luffy watched your face twist from your orgasm. Your thick and creamy cum coats his cock and he was surprised to see that you creamed instead of squirted. He was satisfied either way but his body wasn’t.

He watched you catch your breath and he notices that you’re struggling to move and turn over. Luffy smiles and grabs your hips, pulling you farther into his cock and making you let out a sudden shaky gasp. He pulls back out, a thick trail of your cum disconnecting from his cock and spilling out onto the couch cushions. You look at him with a blank yet slightly confused expression as he turns you over onto your tummy.

“I still haven’ came yet baby gal~” He whispers to you, a little snicker falling after.

He slowly pushes his cock back into you making you groan out before he grabs your arms and pulls you up off of the couch. He pulls you back onto his cock and he continues to thrust into you making you whine and mewl out from slight overstimulation. The sound of his hips slapping stickily into yours echoes throughout the living room. Your whines and whimpers growing loud as your pussy was overstimulated and didn’t want anymore.

It was growing so addictive. His cock buried deep inside of you and kissing your sweetest spots. Fuck it was so good, even in the afterlife.

Even as a zombie.

Luffy feels you unconsciously tighten around him and he presses his head against your cold shoulder. He could see a little tummy bulge forming in your lower tummy from his thrusts against your cervix. He adored your reactions. Even if you were a mere zombie, you’d still had a bit of human left within you. He honestly thought it was more adorable watching you squirm against him, whining and mewling out in pleasure from his cock.

He loves it and he began to gain a liking to you.

“Does m’dick feel good baby? Ya keep moaning such pretty souns’ in m’ear.” Luffy whisper to you, his hand reaching up to grab your breast. He groped and massages the fatty tissue, making you mewl out and roll your head back slowly. He sees your cloudy eyes rolling back from the pleasure and he chuckles, adoring your wonderful little face. “Fuck, s’cute ain’tcha?~ M’dick makin’ ya feel s’good, Ya pussy suckin’ in m’cock~ Ahhh~” He huff out, the dirty thoughts causing him to fuck into your cunt a bit rougher.

Luffy hisses into your ear, the feeling of his cock twitching against your walls making you shudder a bit. His rough hand practically squeezes your breast, a gasp leaving him as he felt himself ready to cum. He lets go of your arms and presses your body down against the soft cushions of the couch, his body pressing up against yours as he ruts and pounds into your pussy.

His arms wrap around your body and he gasps out, huffing heavily in your ear as his orgasm was right there on the edge. “Mmgh~ Fuck m’gonna cum peach~ M’cummin’ baby!~” He groans, lying his head against your shoulder. You huffed heavily as your hand grasped the couch cushions tightly, your nails tearing the fabric slightly while Luffy kissed your cervix so good.

“Mmgh!~ MMH!~” You gasp out loudly to Luffy as you cum around his cock again, coating his length in your thick creamy essence once more. “Cummin’! C-Cummin’!~” Luffy gives your pussy a few more thrusts before he finally releases deep inside of your cunt, pumping you full of cum and filling your pussy up. Your body shudders as you felt him fill your pussy up, a few groans leaving your lips as you looked back at Luffy.

Luffy huffs heavily against you, mewling out as he laid his head down against your cold skin. His body was warm laying against yours, warming both you and your cold skin up. Luffy snickers against your skin before pressing a smooch to your shoulder. You breathe out another scratchy breath as you rested your head against your arms, a sleepy groan escaping past your lips as you lie there relaxed and fully satisfied.

A snore fills you ears and you lift your head before looking back to Luffy. He had surprisingly feel asleep, with his head resting up against your cold skin. You blink blankly and look around before resting your head in your arms.

You lie there and await for Luffy to wake up, guarding him while keeping warm in the process. You smile softly, lying there all snug and comfy as you relaxed against Luffy’s warmer body. He snored and drooled against you skin, humming out sweetly as he wraps his arms around you tighter.

You softly hold his hand and lay there, waiting for him to wake up so you could play again.

[enj4s]

VAMPIRE BOY, BITE ME IN THE MOONLIGHT! ᡣ𐭩 .

─── ˚୨୧⋆ PAIRINGS; subaru sakamaki, 𖥻SUBARU x fem! reader ｡˚ ⋆

─── ˚୨୧⋆ 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎; smut. swearing. fem!dom! reader. reader is mean, again. pegging. (lil) hair pulling. hickies. crying. toxic relationship. both are fucked in the head.

★ Author note 😆😆!!: Whoever requested ts excuse my dramatic ass, I LOVE drama as you can see. (sorry btw) enjoy 🤤‼️ yallyal request I got nun to do other than rot in my bed 💔

It was one of those days-

You were a patient and laid-back person, or so you and some people thought. But your anger issues have gone up the roof since you met the seven diabolic, unhinged brothers.

Their mothers and Karlheinz were just as bad, if not even worse. The Mukamis could not redeem themselves but they were bearable, especially Azusa who was just less annoying and irritating, or atleast didn't make you wanna dig your nails in your skin and clutch hard till it bleeds, like the others. You had an exception between the seven Sakamaki siblings as well, whom was Subaru.

Subaru was one helluva person to deal with. If not for Karlheinz introducing you to his past, you would've kept your first impression of him, which was he had rabies.

That boy was as layered and complicated as an onion, and trying to navigate through his mind and emotions was gonna drive you mad. One moment he's calling you a dense ass for dropping a pencil or getting bitten, and the other he's glancing at you all soft like a high school girl in love would.

You swore you have spent and used more brain cells on trying to see through him than you had on maths. He could be downright cruel at times, and even dismissed you so harshly that you favored the men-whore final boss (Laito) over him for some while, which didn't last long when he forced you so adorably in a 'relationship' with him or is what you thought, since he ordered you to resist if any of his brothers try to bite you. What else did it mean?

He would become absolutely feral when he got jealous. It was pretty easy to make him reach that point, but dangerous. He would start yelling at you and destroying everything around him in blind rage when he saw you talk to a male teacher or student or his brother's, going as far as attempting drain you of plasma. It was all too tiring and frustrating, you wanted nothing but quietness, to be left alone and ignored.

His delusion of you being his was so utterly nonsensical, but you went along with it for your safety and sanity, it was wise to sometimes give up and give in to his delusions, which he used as a control and power element. Resisting only meant to get bit to near death, where you'd start to see stars and lights that you thought only existed in cartoons, or, like these times, when he'd strangle you.

-where you'd snap.

"Shut the FUCK UP!" You'd yell at the top of your lungs, couldn't you even be strangled to death silently? His yammering of you being a betrayer was so damn irritating. Subaru jolted and flinched away form the volume of your voice, that look on your eyes, he backed up slightly, his grip on your throat weakened. In a swift movement, you dug your nails deep into his unhealthily pale wrists, shoving him away with every ounce of strength you had left.

Subaru stumbled backwards, catching himself quickly, his white boots stepping on a broken shard of glass from a vase that you bet was supposed to be cherished. You felt guilty for using one of his traumas against him to make him halt, stop. Yes, but did it save you from getting choked? Yes.

The anger was incredibly contagious, you bite your lip to hold back all the insults and traumas you could bring up, knowing that it would just bring you brutal death and a quick burial in dirt in the next hour, you shut your mouth, trying to find saliva to relieve your sore throat that was deeply in dire need of moisture.

The grip he had on your throat just now had been so tight you could've sworn he had actually meant to kill you for a second. Your breathing became labored. Your heartbeat was stubborn and didn't wanna settle down. Your eyes stared back at Subaru's with a mixture of tears and fury, you blink. Trying to help your eyes get used to the light again.

Both of you had your flaws and toxic traits, you suddenly found yourself on top of Subaru, a hard grip on his hair that matched his on your throat earlier, you wipe salty tears away, everything was a blur. You swore you couldn't remember a thing. You'd insult other people for not controlling their actions, yet you couldn't keep yours in check either.

"Sorry," You murmured against his pale skin, kissing alongside the hickies and bite marks you left on his neck. They looked painful. He was a vampire, so you didn't worry too much. They'd heal in an hour or two. You were still between his thighs, cum dripped down his hips and legs.

"You just piss me off sometimes...It's so childish when you start yammering and yelling, creating scenes when I talk to anyone," You watched his wine red eyes trail down in something like shame. His mouth was sewed shut, he was already embarrassed from moaning as loud as he yells. He was cuter when he was quiet, you note, and grin silently, propping yourself on your knees to thrust inside him again without warning, tearing a shriek from the albino beneath you, he drops his head down on the pillows, you were making him feel way too good, as rough as it was.

It almost seemed like you were still taking your anger out on him as you pounded inside him harshly. Subaru felt his stomach coil and he tightens, when you'd lean down to whisper sweet nothings in his ear that didn't match your humping.

“C-ca- ah! Can’t! Hah..” Subaru whined shakily, a sound he'd drop dead before making if he was in his right state of his mind. He hiccups and whimpers as he covered his face with his hands. “So full..hic- too much," His legs dangle like a rag doll's from your shoulders as you plundge inside him deeper and deeper with each delicious thrust.

You lean down with a sigh, catching Subaru's lips in a kiss, and grab at his long bangs, tugging hard to tilt his head upward, and swallow down the loud wail that was about to wrack from his body as he came, vibrating slightly and hips thrusting up pathetically in the air. His fangs poked at your lip a bit painfully as he tried to bite down his noises, now chasing after your lips and the little blood that threatened to spill.

Getting strangled or beat again later from a flustered Subaru wouldn't be surprising after wracking his shit, but it was worth it. You could only laugh as he emptily threatened to break your arm after this, complaining that he couldn't feel his legs and that you're a perv.

─── ˚୨୧⋆ @enj4s ♡ @un0rin ♡

don't repost or copy I know where u live 👁

[themellowminx]

After the Fire Dies ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ MDNI

———-> fyodor x reader x dazai

You made a mistake, how will you repent?

< After the actual smut, but still suggestive content, not proof read >

“S-seven…” You could hardly feel anymore, sweat clung to your body and your breaths came in panting gasps, all you could think about was how bad you had fucked up, was that really only a few hours ago? When Dazai was holding you so tightly, gripping you in all the right places. But now, your blood dripped from the slim slashes across your thighs and stained the white bedsheets, you struggled against your restraints, straining your arm to push the silky, black, blindfold off your eyes.

“So, malishka,” You could hear the grin in his smooth voice as he teased you with that special pet name, baby, not slut, or whore, but baby. He knew you’d get it wrong. You were almost certain that even if you did guess right, they wouldn't stop. “Who was touching you just now? Who made you cum?” Sucking in as much air as possible, limbs heavy, nose stuffed and tears streaked your poor, flushed face.

“You–Fedya.” A self-satisfied hmm came from one of them, you guess Dazai by the tone. Instantly you regretted your decision. ‘Wait–actually–”

“Too late, you already made a choice.” Dazai was speaking now, his voice lacked the accent that you loved so much, but still carried such a lustful melody. Suddenly the blindfold was slowly peeled off and you squinted your tear-filled eyes to the destroyed bedroom. Frantically looking at your lover, Fyodor, for approval, you were met with both men smirking down at you. So pretty. They were both so beautiful, where Fedya was slim angles and sharp bones, pale skin and striking, sharp eyes, Dazai was stronger, softer, still lean but bigger, not as deathly-pale and a mop of curly brown hair with matching honey eyes. They made a lovely pair, and had ruined you beyond comprehension.

“Ding ding ding!” Dazai sang out, hopping on the bed next to you.

“Good job malishka, how’d you know?” You guessed correctly? Finally! Honestly part of it was dumb luck but…

“You get…when you get tired you get softer, and you also kept licking the blood from my thighs, I figured Dazai would do that too but he’s inclined to be more–well–rough.” You looked down sheepishly. Fyodor pat your head and undid the restraints on your wrists and ankles, now you realized just how exposed you had been. A puddle of liquid, cum and spit and sweat and blood, was layered on every inch of your skin. Both of them started peppering kisses along your flesh, prickled with chills yet still overheated, a kiss to the collarbone by one man, a peck in between your breasts from another, they continued and Fyodor eventually went to fetch a warm cloth.

“What did we learn malishka?” Fyodor asked you later that night, Dazai in deep-sleep on the other side of the bed, still in the aftershock of their tortuous play-time, you trembled slightly against Fyodor's bare chest.

“I’m never going to sleep with another person–”

“No, say it exactly.”

“I-I am never going to cheat on you…” You looked back up at him for guidance.

“With Dazai,” He guided your words.

“Cheat on you with Dazai, or anyone else, ever again. I only want–need–you, Fedya.” He hummed at your confession. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/n.” He replied simply, and you drifted off into sleep, body aching and face tear-stained and salty, still naked, but warm and so, so full

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ thx for reading! :)

[hearts4golbach]

The Night Shift.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

Chapter 30.

the day before the concert, tara and i spent hours putting together our perfect Falling in Reverse concert outfits. with the two of our closets combined, and with the help of Jake and Johnnies too, but they don't need to know that, we were finally content with what we were going in. clothes were scattered everywhere, but we'd worry about that later.

Tara decided on a mini skirt with 3 different belts that we had found in jakes closet, which she had stacked strategically. she took one of my blinged up hot pink crop tops that i hadn't worn since 8th grade and had that as her top. she threw a fur coat over the top of everything. she threw on her chunky black boots with spikes and a cute pair of leg warmers on to finish the look. she had been planning on the makeup she was going to do for months, but all it was was her usual makeup with pink eyeshadow and eyeliner stars on her cheek.

i ended up wearing [outfit of your choice] and paired it with [makeup of your choice].

johnnies outfit was jaw-dropping. he chose his black lace button up and obviously wore it halfway unbuttoned. he layered about 10 different necklaces and rings. he also decided on wearing a new pair of dark red skinny jeans with his usual black boots. he tied it all together with his leather jacket. for johnnies makeup, he smudged red lipstick under his eyes and streaked black eyeliner down his face.

jakes outfit was just as cunty as the rest of us; he wore a cropped black tank top paired with his favorite pair of flared jeans. he also chose his belt with bullets on it. he decided on not even bringing a jacket with his reason being "he has tattoos for a reason." he also wore platform shoes and an arrangement of bracelets, some i had never seen before. jake decided to wear no makeup to the concert.

tara slept over so it'd be easier for all of us to take the 4 hour drive early in the morning. we had decided to rent a hotel so we could all get fucked up during the concert and not have to worry about driving home when we could just call an uber. all of us were restless that night, but forced ourselves to sleep so we were really ready for the concert.

i woke up the next morning wrapped in johnnies arms, per usual. the alarm was reverberating in my ears as Johnnie was also starting to stir awake. he opened his eyes and squinted them to look at me, a small smile forming on his face. "mornin'." his groggy sleep voice greeted.

"good morning. you excited?" i asked, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. i climbed out of the bed and stretched, making a million different bones in my body crack at once. "we gotta hurry up and take our showers since everyone else needs to, too."

Johnnies eyes scanned over my body. he sighed and propped himself up on his elbow. "do you want to just take a shower together? it'd save time." he smirked, gently squeezing my hand before he began fidgeting with my fingers.

"i like that idea." i placed a gentle kiss on his lips before dragging him out of bed into the bathroom.

i started the shower, making sure it was nice and warm as Johnnie got undressed. i wasn't far behind him, getting undressed myself before stepping into the shower with him. the warm water on my back woke me up as much as it was relaxing. i watched as the water trickled down Johnnies body and seeped into his inked skin. he ran his moist hands down my body and grabbed the body wash. he squirted some into his hands and began to wash my body. he had nothing but admiration in his eyes as they trailed over every part of me. he made sure no part of me was unwashed before going to wash himself. i did the same for him, helping him wash every inch of his pale skin. he shampooed and conditioned my hair, and while i wash washing mine out, he cleaned his own. he kissed me softly, but passionately before turning off the shower and climbing out. he wrapped me up in a soft towel, as well as himself.

we made our way back to our bedroom to pack our 1 day trip bags quickly. i stole johnnies pair of chunky pajama pants to wear on the drive, as well as my Lana Del Rey tee that was beaten up and bruised from all of the use. i packed all of my makeup and my concert outfit. i didn't bother packing an outfit for the second day there since we were leaving and heading home as soon as we got checked out of the hotel. Johnnie packed pretty much the same thing as i did, the only difference being he did pack an outfit for the second day. he threw on a pair of black skinny jeans and a My Chemical Romance tee shirt to wear on the drive there.

there was a small knock on the door before tara's bright voice called out, "you guys up?" we both answered yeah at the same time. she opened the door and greeted me with a hug. "morning!" she greeted excitedly.

i hugged her back tight. "morning, Tar." i heard the shower start from down the hall. "damn, is Jake just now getting in?"

"yeah, it took me, like, 20 minutes to actually get him out of bed. he snoozed his alarm 3 times before i had to go in there and drag him out of bed myself." she sighed, sitting on the bed next to me.

Johnnie shut down his PC so it wasn't wasting electricity while we were away. "well, that's Jake for you."

tara rolled her eyes. "yeah, well, he needs his beauty sleep, anyway."

"did you get your bag fully packed?" i asked, tossing my bag over my shoulder.

"duh, i got everything ready." she smiled.

the three of us moved down to the living room, bringing our bags and everything else we needed with us. Johnnie sprawled himself out over the couch. i made my way into the kitchen and grabbed a bunch of water bottle and a few snacks for the road, putting them in one of my goat bags and setting it with the rest of our shit. Jake ended up joining me in the kitchen with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"okay, slut." i mumbled under my breath jokingly. i walked back out of the kitchen to join Johnnie on the couch.

"i know you are not talk to me, skank." he snapped his fingers and grabbed his zyns and decaf coffee off of the counter. he threw that shit in the microwave like it was nobody's business. he leaned against the counter and went on his phone.

i rolled my eyes, "is your bag even packed?"

"no," he answered nonchalantly before taking a selfie. i realized later on that he had posted it on his instagram story.

"that's wild that you're worried about your coffee right now, then." i laughed, "what if we're late to see Ronnie?" i over exaggerated.

he pursed his lips, "well, Ronnie can wait for my coffee." he smiled, taking a sip before heading up to his room.

tara had hopped in the shower immediately after jake did. she always took extremely long showers, but she made it quick today.

Jake made his way back downstairs with tara by his side less than 10 minutes later. with all of our bags and shit we needed on hand, we headed out the door.

Johnnie and I climbed into the back seat while jake and tara took the front. tara had music privileges for the first hour of the drive. her music taste was definitely different from mine, but I didn't mind it.

I leaned my head against johnnies shoulder and stared out of the front windshield, watching as all of the buildings and cars sped past. he wrapped his arm around my waist, his hand resting on my hip as he went on his phone to scroll through tiktok. my eyes flickered to his phone, watching as he reposted silly edits of himself, and of me and him, that fans had created.

Jake and tara had begun bickering about her lip smacking that annoyed jake ever so much. I felt johnnies shoulders jiggle, signaling that he was laughing. I quietly laughed along, aswell. they fought like a married couple, sometimes.

I could feel myself becoming drowsy as the car lulled me to sleep. my eyelids felt like bricks. it was way too early in the morning for this, especially when I was in and out of sleep all of last night. I gave in, letting my eyes fall shut as I slowly fell asleep on johnnies shoulder.

I woke up about an hour and a half later. johnnie was now watching Netflix on his phone. tara was passed out in the front seat, and jake was next to her, gently bobbing his head to the slower song playing on the radio. johnnie had felt me stir awake and began to rub my hip gently.

johnnie cleared his throat, "was that a good nap?" he teased.

I stretched my back before placing my head back on his shoulder. "Actually, yeah. your shoulder is a great pillow." I placed a kiss on his cheek, nuzzling my head further into his neck. "we should stop and get breakfast somewhere."

"I second that." jake stuck up one finger before rubbing his tummy. "I could eat a horse pussy right now."

his weird comment made tara finally open her eyes, as she had been stirring for a while. "what a great sentence to wake up to, jake."

he patted her knee, "sorry, sweetie."

we pulled into the closest McDonald's and bought breakfast. jake ate with one hand as he continued to drive, nearly fisting the breakfast sandwiches he had gotten. Jake and I both got coffees and the same breakfast sandwiches, a mcgrittle. we were practically twins at that point. I smiled at johnnie as he happily munched on his breakfast next to me. he smiled back.

by the time we were all done with our breakfast, we were about an hour out from the hotel. jake and tara switched seats since she offered to drive the rest of the way.

the rest of the drive was silent except for the soft music on the radio. I could tell we were all pretty tired from the long drive, and we'd all probably need a nap whenever we got to the hotel. to be fair, the coffee did wake up me and jake, though. honestly, nothing slaps like a good McDonald's coffee with extra creamer this early in the morning.

we had finally made it even earlier than we expected. I climbed out of the car and stretched, cracking my back before grabbing my things out of the car. Jake got the key card for the hotel while we unpacked the car, although there wasn't much to unpack. we brought all of our bags inside and made out way up to the hotel room.

the room was extremely nice. there were two beds, a large window with a beautiful overview of the city, and the usual hotel room accommodations.

I threw myself onto the bed I was claiming for Johnnie and i. I watched as jake filled the mini fridge with water bottles. we all took our concert outfits out of our bags so they wouldn't get wrinkled from staying cramped up for too much longer.

Jake and I ordered lunch from the hotel, although it was a pretty late lunch. the three of us started on our makeup, which influenced jake to actually do his own. he ended up smudging eyeliner in his waterline before calling it a day.

none of us changed into our outfits. we all sat on our respective beds and ate our lunch-dinner while watching some random ghost hunting show on the channel that was already on whenever I had turned on the TV.

before taking another bite, I spoke up. "are we going to leave as soon as we're ready so we don't have to wait in a long ass line to get inside?"

Jake gulped down what he was chewing. "That's what I was thinking, yeah." Tara and Johnnie agreed with him. 

after finishing our food 10 minutes later, we all got changed. I smoothed out my outfit in the mirror.

Johnnie came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. "you look great, baby." he smiled, planting a kiss on my cheek.

"thank you," I turned around, hooking my arms behind his neck and kissing his lips softly.

Tara's chunky shoes clumped down the hallway as we made our way to the elevator. "over here sounding like a fucking elephant, damn." jake teased her, gently shoving her shoulder.

she shoved him back harder. "shut up, they're cute!"

Johnnie gripped my hand, interlocking his fingers with mine. I scanned his whole body, admiring how good he looked in his outfit. fuck, he looked hot. I smirked slightly before turning away. a blush was painted across his face as he smiled.

Jake called the Uber as we waited out front of the hotel.

"why did you just now call it? why couldn't you have called the Uber when we were getting ready, it would've been here by now." I scolded, not actually caring, just wanting to complain and annoy jake.

"because I didn't know how long it'd take you ladies to get ready. don't act like I haven't heard the conspiracy theories about girls taking forever to get ready."

"conspiracy theories?" I repeated, "conspiracy theories is wild."

"well, they seem to be true." he crossed his arms, popping his hip out to the side.

"like you don't take 2 hours in the bathroom every morning playing with your hair." I retorted, looking around to see if the Uber was close.

"okay, well, that's different." he rolled his eyes.

"mhm, right."

the Uber arrived eventually. we all piled in the back, pretty much sitting on top of eachother. we were all buzzing with excitement, and we weren't even buzzed yet.

"I think my first goal when we get there is to get a drink," I admitted with a sly smile plastered across my face.

"I second that." Tara was fixing her makeup in her phone camera.

"me too." jake and Johnnie responded in the same tone at the same time.

the 20 minute drive to the stadium felt like a 20 year drive, but I knew that was just the excitement and eagerness getting to me.

whenever we arrived, it took us 30 minutes to get inside, which was much better than it could've been.

we wandered around the stadium, looking for a good bar that had been set up. we ran into 3 before finding one with a good menu compared to the other ones.

we hurriedly ordered our drinks and made our way to our 'seats,' although none of us would be sitting during the actual concert.

we were an hour and a half early, or at least an hour and a half early for the openers. I had high hopes for the concert, I mean, it was a rock, emo, whatever you wanna call it, concert after all.

I sat back in my seat, propping my feet up as I sipped on my drink. to say it was strong would be an understatement, even though I was far from a lightweight.

"wanna try a sip of mine?" johnnie offered, handing me his clear plastic cup.

I gratefully accepted, handing him mine in return. I hummed at the taste of his, "I think I like yours more."

"honestly, me too." he laughed. we ended up trading drinks.

tara took a video of the four of us. "holy shit, falling in reverse!" she screamed over the hundreds of other people in the stadium that were most likely saying the same shit. she ended up posting it on her story.

the openers came on with a bang. smoke covered the stage before a much smaller artist, I wasn't sure of the name, strutted onto the stage.

the crowd cheered, but not as loud as I knew it'd be whenever Ronnie came on.

the small band played 6 different songs, and they were all surprisingly good. they were more of a nu metal band compared to Falling in Reverse. I mean, I wasn't complaining.

the four of us spent majority of that time taking pictures for our Instagrams. I mean, obviously. what else would you expect?

Jake and I were on drink duty. we sped back to the pop up stand and ordered everyone the same drinks they had had before, except me and johnnies were flipped.

we made it back just in time for the openers last song. it was a bug finale, to say the least. the LED screen behind them flashed before everything went dark. the crowd roared with excitement.

we were left in the dark suspensully. i was practically shaking with excitement as i heard the low murmurs of the crowd. the LED screen turned to a dark red moments later.

finally, Ronnie walked out onto the stage with the rest of the band members following. everyone cheered and shouted as they came out on stage. johnnie and jake seemed over the moon with excitement. but, so were me and tara.

Ronnie greeted the crowd, earning a screaming mess of greetings back. he laughed before getting into the very first song.

of course, he had to open with one of his most popular songs, 'The Drug in Me is You.' I knew this song like the back of my hand, just like every other song by him.

I gripped johnnies hands, shaking him as I screamed the lyrics in his face. I was as dramatic as I could possibly get, and he returned the same energy.

Johnnie took out his phone and recorded a snippet of the first song before flipping the camera to us and pulling me in, kissing me on the lips before ending the recording. I knew his fans would eat that shit up whenever he posted it.

we went just as hard for the next few songs before another one of my favorites came on, 'Get Me Out.' I practically screeched whenever I heard the first few words of the song.

to say everyone's hair was a mess at this point in the concert would be an understatement. Me, Johnnie, jake, and tara were sweaty and dirty, but that didn't stop us in any way.

Johnnie gripped my waist tightly as we screamed the lyrics out into the crowd and towards eachother, our energy never fading.

there was a short intermission, which gave me and jake just enough time to run and grab more drinks. to be fair, all of us were pretty drunk at this point in the concert, but who was there to tell us no?

we scrambled back to our seats as we heard the drum rhythm for 'I'm not a Vampire' begin.

I could see johnnie singing the lyrics as he watched the performance on stage. since we were still a bit of a walk away, I took a picture. seeing him in the stadium lighting was heavenly, and he seemed so into the music, it just made for the perfect picture of him. I planned to set it as my lock screen as soon as we got back to the hotel.

there was not much different about the last few songs, except for the fact that I was exhausted and out of breath. I had a feeling I wouldn't have a voice in the morning, either.

as the last chord of the song rang throughout the stadium, Johnnie gripped my waist and kissed me passionately. I reciprocated, kissing him back with the same intensity. he pulled away, his eyes sparkling. "I love you."

my lower lip quivered as I couldn't help but smile. "I love you, too."