#i'm getting help but it's going painfully slow

[patchyourbrokenwings]

I am trying to escape my violent abusive family while fighting against chronic pain and fatigue. Not only that, I am still recovering from surgery and struggling with body image. AND I have to face my demons born from trauma every minute of every day. AND I am doing it all alone without a loving safe place where I can come to peace. Imagine how fucking exhausted I am. How am I even still standing???

[kruegerspillow]

accidentally finding out that simon riley is ticklish during sex, though the way he reacted wasn't too... expected. buuuuut it's not like you hated the outcome you got from him <3

MINORS DNI. NSFW BENEATH THE CUT!

Simon's hands roamed around your body, taking in every curve as you squirmed helplessly on his lap. Your hands gripped on his shoulders, seeking more friction as you grinded down against his clothed crotch. Simon's hips stuttered in response to your move.

"So fuckin' needy, aren't ya?" Simon groaned out, his voice low and filled with desperation.

You huffed in response, nearly rolling your eyes at his words before your hands made their way to the hem of his shirt. Simon grunted, helping you lift his shirt up.

"Simon... Need'ya so bad. I need to feel you, please..." You pleaded.

And before you knew it, he was knuckles deep into your cunt. His thick fingers curled inside you, feeling the way your pussy clenched hungrily around his digits. Simon laughed softly out of amusement, watching the way you arched your back. Your hands shot up to his shoulders, seeking balance.

"I got ya, don't worry, yeah? 'm here for ya, lovie." He whispered soothingly.

"Simon, I'm gonna..."

"Fuck, yeah? Let go f'me, c'mon, give yourself in."

You nearly whined at his words, feeling yourself tipping over the edge as his fingers worked faster. Tears swelled up in your eyes before you squeezed them shut, feeling yourself squirt all over him, leaving your juices dripping down his lower abdomen.

Simon watched quietly, slowing down the pace as he felt you slump against his chest, your arms falling back to your sides. His free hand wrapped around your waist, a silent gesture of protection.

"Fuuuck, would ya take a look at the mess ya made? Look at tha' sweet'eart." He mumbled softly, looking down at the mess on his stomach.

Your vision blurred as you glanced at the mess, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarassment. Fuck, your mind felt hazy. The orgasm hit you harder than a brick, and you knew only Simon could leave this effect on you.

And, as soon as you gathered your composure, your hands went back to his chest. Simon's eyes softened at the sight of you, watching as you undo his belt. You swiftly threw his belt aside, propping yourself on top of him before looking up at him. Simon got the signal and lifted his hips up, gaze piercing as you pulled his pants down.

There was a small stain on his boxers already, having leaked precum ever since he buried his fingers into your puffy cunt. Simon groaned as you pulled his boxers down, the cold air hitting his painfully hard cock.

"Wait, sweet'eart—"

You slammed down on his cock, feeling him twitch inside you before he arched his back off of the couch. His breath hitched as you watched him tremble beneath you. He groaned out in response, throwing his head back onto the couch before his hands shot up to your waist; making sure you don't lose balance.

"Simon, I— fuck I cant help it, need... need you inside me..." You slurred out, tripping over your own words.

Simon's chest rose up and down, trying to catch his breath before he lifted his head up. His gaze met yours, all hazy and fucked out of his mind. Your hands stayed on his chest for a moment, before you slowly ran your fingers down.

"Christ, you feel fuckin' heavenly, I— fuckin' 'ell..."

Simon shivered beneath you, letting out a shaky breath as he watched your hand skillfully caress the roughness of his skin. Your fingers softly traced over his scars, feeling the way he jerks every once in a while. Once your hands reached his abdomen, you slowly traced the sides of his waist.

"Not there sweet'eart, I—" The words caught in his throat as you continued teasing his waist.

A small, nervous laugh left his lips as one of his hands shot up to your wrist, trying to get your hands off of his waist. You noticed it. The way his cheeks heated up whenever your hands roamed around his waist, the way he seemed to hold the small laughter that threatened to come out of his mouth. He's ticklish.

"Bloody 'ell, not— not there," he paused for a moment. "Don't play these kind of games on me, love, fuck please." He begged softly, his cock hardening inside you.

And, that's when you felt it.

His hips stuttered before he cummed inside you, merely because of a simple touch. A small wheeze left his lips, feeling himself come undone just like that. Your eyes widened as you watched him rut his hips through his orgasm. A small, amused yelp left your lips before you moaned softly. He'd never been this sensitive before. His hand dropped from your wrist.

"Fuck!" He groaned out, feeling his whole body tremble beneath you.

Shit, you know damn well you're far from over now.

kruegerspillow © 2024 ➵ do not feed my work into ai, repost or translate my work. Reblogs are much appreciated ୨ৎ

[metranart]

— HAWKS + DABI + BAKUGO + SHIGARAKI || THINGS THIS LOVESICK BOYS SAY WHEN IN BED WITH YOU

-----------HEADCANONS-----------

HAWKS

“Oh, my darling...fuck, keep doing that.” 

“You're so beautiful, I'm so glad we found each other.”

“I know I’m a mess-… what else was I supposed to do while waiting to make you mine?” 

“Lay back and let me do all the work. I’ve dreamed of eating your pretty pussy all week.”

“Hey, don’t shy away from me. C’mere-”

“You’re so fuckin’ soft. Shiiit…”

“Hey—no teasing the feathers.”

“I n-need to-... I just-…-I’m going to start moving now.”

“Arms around my neck and legs around my hips— ngh! Gravity is a bitch, I don’t want you falling on me, at least, not literally.”

“What a good mate, you respond to me so well."

“I’m so fuckin’ deep, my pretty girl-”

“Fuck—I can’t... I’m not gonna last-”

“Don’t be embarrassed. I love when you squirt on my face.”

“God I’ve wanted this for so long. I’m going to breed your pussy every day, all day long, even after I’ve knocked you up.”

“We're both getting older, babe, and if we want to have more chicks than stars in the sky, then we need to get started.”

“Tell me you love me-… tell me again.”

“I do get ahead of myself often, but I can’t help it. I just know we belong together-” 

“What do you say we try for a baby this time?”

"You’d be adorable, so swollen and full that you can't walk, that you'd have to rely on me for everything...”

“Touch yourself, c’mon. Let me see how you play the right notes.”

“You're going to be a wonderful mother for my chicks.”

“Let me help you move pretty, put your hands on mine.”

“No one’s gonna hear if I put my hand here… no biting, hun.”

“I’ll make it quick, darling... just—let me… let me go again.”

“Need a hand or a finger?”

“Just wait, baby... Fuuuuck—give me a damn minute.”

“Keep your eyes on me.”

“Arch your back, there you go, such a good girl.”

“Fuck, even after cumming you aren’t ready to accommodate my size. Don’t worry, baby,” he kisses your creased forehead, “—then just the tip this time.”

“Shit, I can’t help it—” you can feel him twitching excitedly inside you. “I just like you so damn much!” He grunts and snaps his hips again, diving deeper. 

“Just bear with me, I swear I’ll eat you for hours after…. Please, pretty, pleaseeeee…” He kept his pace, practically purring with his throaty groans. 

“No matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, I know how to fuck you well, ain’t I, beautiful?” 

“C’mon let me hear you, I can feel you getting tighter… my cock’s rubbing those hard-to-reach places…. Fuck! I- slid in so easily.”

“I’m painfully close-…. Fuck, I don’t want to cum yet…”

 “Is this your sweet spot I’m bullying?” 

“Each thrust is inching you closer… should I slow down or go faster?”

“Deeper? Okey-… just try to keep it together, I have neighbors.” 

“Give me one more. please, just one more baby.”

“Try to keep your eyes open, I know it’s hard…b-but try for me beautiful.”

“Go ahead and sleep, honey, I’m not going anywhere.”

NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON

DABI

“What’d I did to deserve such a pretty thing like ya?”

“I’ve barely touch you. You really that hot for me, sweetheart?”

“Open your legs, not gonna say it again.”

“Doesn’t hurt, its already scarred skin.”

“If I have to kiss your tears away again, you are gonna get it— I’ve already told ya, it doesn’t hurt anymore-”

“Bury your hands in my hair, yes... Just like that.”

“Stop pushing me away. You’re gonna take it all, don’t make me shove it down your throat.”

“You love to play the feeble act, but your moans give you away, princess.”

“Nuh-uh, you haven’t cum yet.”

“I said ass up.”

“You want it so bad? beg.”

“Take them off before I rip them off of you, doll. Don’t try me.”

“Harder,” he mutters, not a minute after you started. “Harder,” he demands again.

“Could you go any slower? Ride me like you mean it, princess. I know you can.”

“Can barely feel that shit. You gotta do better than that, princess. You know I like it rough.”

“Fuck,” he bit out. “Yes, fuck…. Just like that.”

“Come on pretty girl. Ride me till you’re numb, yeah? Want you to fuck yourself stupid on my cock today.”

“Move my hands again and see what happens-”

“Fuck—” 

“Sorry, baby-… I just had to jump at the opportunity to sink my cock deeper.”

“Sit on it.”

“Worried it won’t fit? We always make it work just fine—”

“I don’t have condoms, they’re annoying.” He grunts the reply, inwardly absorbed with impatience. 

“Don’t move—Just gimme a minute… F-Fuck…”

“You fuckin’ genius, dammit, I love you so damn much! Not even I knew that spot— …” He shakes his head, in disbelief of the pleasure, even more so that you been the one to give it to him.

“Did you do that on purpose, princess? ‘cause now we are doing it every time.” 

“Fuck that. Don’t know if you heard sweetheart, but you were made for me to fuck and breed.”

“Stop it, no more whining—I’ll do my best to be…. gentler.” 

“Really? resist me all you want. I know you love being treated like this.”

“Ridiculous, I could stare at your pretty cunt all day long.” 

“Fuck Yeah! I adore the way your thighs tremble like jelly after you cum.”

“Should I pull out? Nah, better give me a daughter to spoil.”

“Unless you were playing with yourself before I got here, I’m guessing this is because of my pretty face?”

“Over my knee, now.”

“Sure, I love ya— but you are not in charge here, princess. Fuckin’ spread them for me.”

“Want me to spank that pussy? lay on my lap then-”

“One’s never enough, I know my princess’s pussy and its begging for another.”

NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON

BAKUGO (NSFW art teaser here!)

“Do you want me to fuck you harder, cutie?”

“You can be loud, I love to hear you, (Y/N).”

“I’ve waited so long for this...”

“That’s it... slow and easy—” 

“How much longer you gonna make me wait, baby?”

“You ever take it raw? Get a big load of cum in your pussy? —don’t shy on me, I know you love when I talk dirty to you.”

“Take it off before I tear it off.”

“Baby... please...I hate to beg-”

“Make me wait much longer and I’ll have to fuck you in an alley somewhere.”

“What a naughty little girl I have just to myself.”

“Ugh, so hot and wet.” 

“I said I wanted to eat your pussy, didn’t I? Just sit back and enjoy it, baby girl.”

“I’d hate to stop teasing you right before the fun part.”

“It’s so warm...”

“Who do you belong to?” 

 “Whose pussy is this? Say who you belong to.”

“God, what a good fucking cunt. It keeps clenching on my cock like it’s hungry for more milk. You want that? You want me to fill you up?”

“As you wish, princess.”

“You gonna cum?” 

“Go on, gorgeous. Cum on Daddy’s cock.”

“Fucking take it... take every drop...” 

“Nice and stuffed... all mine... my little slutty girl...”

“I said spread those fuckin’ folds.”

“So wet and tight, but my cock just slides right in. It’s like you were born to take me inside of your cunt.”

“Aren’t you a sight. All blissed out when we aren’t even done.”

“That’s right, darlin’. You didn’t think you could tease me for so long and get away with just one little fuck, did you?”

“Oh, did you think we were finished?”

“Did I stutter or somethin’?”

“Alright, baby girl, you asked for it. Just don’t come crying to me if you can’t move after I’m done with you.”

“Don’t move—Just a sec… F-Fuck…”

“No, this is-this is fine. This is beyond fine. Keep doing it, please.”

“Shit, darling, don’t-” 

“God, you make me so needy. Please.... fuck, please...”

“You feel so wonderful, I might go crazy—"

“More... please, more...”

“Fuck, I’m stretching you so good.”

“God, the thought of you ever doing something like this to anyone else... I can’t stand it.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. You’re my precious BABY, now and forever."

NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON

SHIGARAKI

“It isn’t even a ‘might’. I can tell you right now with the utmost certainty that you are MINE.”

“Keep looking into my eyes, don’t you fuckin’ look away…”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” He coos in a demeaning tone. “I’ll be your first and your last. Not any of these other NPCs.”

“I can hardly keep my hands to myself, your room or mine.”

“I can do whatever I want to you, I’m player one!”

“I know, I’m keeping track of my digits, don’t worry your pretty head.”

“You are too precious to me to turn to dust, my love.”

“I can’t- I’m dying to breed you, to bury my cock in your wet pussy. Don’t move, I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”

“My pants are uncomfortably tight, the fabric’s straining against my throbbing dick, I told you not to put on that dress, dammit” Shigaraki’s practically scratching at the wooden table, surges of arousal shaking him to his core. “Can we go now? Like right NOW?!”

“MY girl, so pretty and needy for my cock.”

“You want him dead. You got it.” Ruby eyes stare through his bangs up at your face in some sort of silent promise. “—Of course, I will. You are my everything.”

“It hurts. I need you to- FUCK, just like that.”

“Fuck, how-how are you this fucking wet and warm inside, fuck, fuck…!”

“Please fuck me.”

“H-hey, I know a fun game we can play together… It’s called ‘how many times can I make you cum all over my cock?’” 

“One point, five points, ten points—Cumming again? Are you shooting for a new high-score, sweetheart?”

“Now... care if I use my mouth on you?”

“Just be good for me, and I’ll take very, very good care of you.”

"Look at you, so worked up over a few couple of fingers, did you miss me that much, sweetheart?" 

“Just looking at you is enough to, oh fuck, drive me wild.”

"So desperate for my cock to stuff you-say it, say you want my cock—ngh!”

"S-Shit,"

"Needy girl, I'll let you have it, be fucking grateful." 

"What? Fainting on me already?"

"Don't let me see you doing this again, or else."

“Just fuck me. I need you, (Y/N), please. Please just fuck bury on me already...! I want it...! I want YOU..!”

“Have it your way then.”

"Keep licking my balls, oh fuck! I’m gonna die—"

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-!"

“You look so pretty choking on my cock.”

“Where do you want it, baby? Mouth, breast, face, pussy… take your pick-”

"Are you close, sweetie?" 

“My feisty little girl. Aren’t you just adorable?”

"Good girl. Give me a minute and I’ll clean up that mess you made." 

“Cum for me. Cum on my cock and show me that you’re mine.”

“I just... wanted to cuddle a little more, is all. Didn’t want to... you know, waste the moment.”

“Don’t you worry, my love. I’ll be sure to give you anything you could ever want and more.” 

“You don’t have to take me all the way into your esophagus, but I expect you to make me cum, and yes, I do want you to swallow.”

“Go on, get on your knees.”

“Ngh, that’s it, keep going...”

“You look so wonderful like this, with your lips wrapped around my cock. I wish I could take a pic for Dabi to swallow his words.” 

“I want you all to myself.”

“H-here it comes...Be sure... to drink... every.. last... drop...YOU ARE FUCKIN’ MINE!!”

I MADE SOME SICK NSFW ART FOR THIS HEADCANONS, YOU CAN CHECK THEM OUT IN MY PATREON. (Along with more MHA nsfw artwork)

[goldsbitch]

monaco kiss .wav

Lando's mildly exhibitionist dreams came true. Due to genius sound engineering, the world can now listen to him and his girlfriend having sex, without a clue it's them.

the track mentioned and referenced (no need to listen to it to get the story, go and be free): French Kiss - The Original Underground Mix, Lil'Louis, The World (credit where credit is due)... 05:30 is the timestamp

word count: 7k

warning: smut, minors DNI, p in v, oral sex, voice notes, colapinto level amount of the word "mate"

PS: i rarely do, but I fuckin love this one

If there was ever a place where Lando could spend hours and hours on end, it was the blue couch at Martin Garrix's personal studio. That piece of furniture was the peak of comfy. He'd asked many times where he got it - if only Martin could remember that.

The whole studio has a cozy vibe around it. A safe space for the F1 star to escape the ever-present eyes of the public, a timeless place where he could wind down and sit passively, while his friend digged notes for hits of the future. They'd often sit for hours in silence, just winding down.

To Lando's joy, the ultimate friend chemistry he had with Martin also worked for him and his, not-so-new-anymore, girlfriend Y/N. In fact, the moment these two met, it was clear that Y/N would quickly become a frequent member of their private recording sessions.

But this time, she had to be in a different city due to work, so it was just the boys, the olden days. Back when Lando would actually dabble in DJ'ing. Those days were long gone, but...It wasn't a rare thing that Lando would help and brainstorm ideas, chord progressions or effects applied to the tracks. What the public didn't know was that he was a loud creative force behind some elements in Martin's recent tracks. Lando had almost threatened him, urging to keep this behind closed door. He wasn't gonna Leclerc this one out.

"You look beat, mate," said Martin finally after nearly two hours of staring into track nods. Lando finally looked up from his phone.

"I'm waiting for you to be done, bro," he replied simply, reffering back to their debate regarding this latest track. A pause. "You know my opinion."

Max turned around to face him, only to find a signature overplayed smirk looking back at him. "You know what, I'm a fucking renowned producer, and you have the decency to come and tell me my track is shit?"

Lando did not flinch. This as a fairly normal way they'd speak together. "Well, someone apparently has to," he shot back, challenging Martin to flip out.

"Screw you," he replied and turned back to face his three monitors. Lando waited patiently, knowing that this was his signature first reaction to criticism. He always came around eventually. Max was his friend. And he would do everything to stop him from releasing crap. "Ok," he heard the DJ say, caving in to his doubts. "I am too deep in this track anyway. Tell me what you think."

"Mate, you said you wanted to do something more experimental. You forgot to add boring," Lando deadpanned.

Martin sighed loudly and leaned back to his chair.

"Don't get me wrong, I fucking love how you go from like - what, 120bpm?-"

"135-"

"Yeah, whatever," Lando said, not happy when Martin used his i-know-music-theory-and-you-don't tone. "As I was gonna say, the come down from the fast tempo to the painfully slow one, in the middle of the track, kind of works. It's certainly nothing like I'd heard play anywhere lately. But like, there is nothing in the production that makes it stand out? Like no real build up or interesting sound."

Lando knew it was brutal from him. But he wasn't there to pat his friend on the back. Just like Martin would never fake compliment his on a bad race. To Lando, this was peak friendship.

Martin hit quick save and closed the file abruptly, startling a minor panic in his friend. Did Lando overstep?

"Come on, mate. Don't copout now."

Martin was visibly startled. "Maybe I just need to put this one down for a moment. Lando did not know what to say to that. He might be right.

"Cig break?"

//

They were standing at the small balcony connected to main entrance to the studio, cigarette smokes mixing together. Yeah, Lando did enjoy an occasional smoke break with his friend. A guilty pleasure one might say.

"So, what was the starting point of the track?" he couldn't help but ask, still not happy to see his friend aborting something he'd spend hours on.

Martin gave him an annoyed look, but did not hesitate to reply. "Remember how the conversation I had about techno tracks being awfully predictable?."

Lando eyes shot up. "Wait, that weird chick you ran into in Germany?"

Rarely would Martin blush, but today was a lucky day apparently. A mocking snort came as a reaction from his friend. "Mate, I don't remember ever seeing you so flustered because of a girl." Few weeks ago, Martin had the fortune of meeting someone who he called "the love of his life" in a random club. And that girl had the audacity to leave him on read for hours. Him, Martin Garrix. Infuriating.

"Yeah, well, fuck you. She was real cool, alternative and reminded me of why I got into music in the first place. Let's revisit how insufferable you were when you met Y/N." Lando exhaled, forever happy anytime anyone ever brought up him and Y/N meeting. If it were up to him, that would be the only thing he's talk about. Getting to know her was like the best kind of drunk one can get. Tipsy enough to make everything fun and perfect, and not too much to get lost in it.

"Fuck off, I was never as insufferable as this," he defended, deep down knowing he might have been even worse. But, he and Y/N ended up dating. Poor Martin was desperate even for a reply.

"Whatever," Martin remarked and put his cigarette out in the overflowing ashtray. This small gesture reminded Lando why he was friends with this guy, the precious safe-space he managed to create. If there was a moment to act as a friend, it was this one.

"Shut up and let's get back to the track. We just gotta let loose a bit, that's all," he said, determined to get Martin out of the rut of his own head.

//

They'd been sitting for another hour, the sun long gone from their sight, two vodka soda's mixed from personal studio bar in, dozens of old tracks analyzed.

Martin played the middle section once again. Lando's head was mindlessly nodding into the beat they'd added and it was starting to look kind of good for the track. But it was not exceptional. And if Lando was trying to help Martin get the attention of some pseudo-pretentious alternative chick, they had to step up their game.

"Can you recall any track which uses the same level of tempo slow down? We could like, I dunno, look into why it works when other people did it and maybe something will come up." Lando often drew inspiration from other artists, something Martin usually hated. But, desperate times.

The racer watched the DJ and suddenly, as it was as if the musical equivalent of the DRS just hit him, his eyes went wide and he stood up.

"Of course!" Martin exclaimed and started pacing around the room. Lando was obviously surprised and kept still, hoping for the best, really. He watched his friend, walking back and forth around the room, deep in his own thoughts and searching for something on his phone.

"Yes! That's it," he finally said happily and put a song up to their loud speakers. The excited look he gave to Lando was almost scary. "You're gonna absolutely love this one," he continued with absolute confidence.

Lando prayed for this to be good, otherwise he was going to have to start getting worried about his friend's sanity, based on the crazy eyes.

The song started with a steady, four-on-the-floor beat (or that was what Lando had assumed). It was a typical 1980's techno track, fast, repetitive with a strong bass line.

But they were almost four minutes in and nothing that would stand out in any way was coming out of this track. Lando could not help but give Martin a doubtful look, not really getting what he was excited about. But Martin was there, nodding his head to the beat, in his own world. He must have sensed Lando's so-far-unimpressed expression, so he shot him a quick smile and gestured for him to wait. Finally, something started to happen and just like in Martin's new track, the music started to slow up on the tempo, quite dramatically. It got Lando somewhat hooked. And then-

And then! He thought he was imagining things. That his mind created sounds in his own head out of boredom.

Instead of a new instrumental added a vocal component was added. The most sensual female moan started to dominate the track, as the tempo kept slowing down. Lando felt his stomach dropped and hair and the back of his neck stand. It was sensual, almost vulgar in fact. Like some sort of elegant porn track playing over the original beat. Unapologetic. And it was increasing. What started as a somewhat socially acceptable sigh, turned into a full on orgasm moan - and as the music almost stopped, the female voice was taking on the main stage, full on peak. Thank God the walls were sound proofed. Lando cock was twitching. He tried to ignore Martin, who was grinning like a school boy first time seeing a porn video. And once the voice finally reached a peak, the music started to pick up, leftover moans cutting through the beat. Only then was Lando able to look Martin in the eye and got out of the semi-trance this track got him into. Finally the tempo fully picked up and the nine minute song was over.

"Uhh..." Lando got his initial reaction out and stared into the screen. Martin was there, unable to contain his laughter.

"You look flushed, mate, you good?" he teased, obviously pleased with himself for getting Lando out of his comfort zone.

Lando was finally getting back to Earth and couldn't help but to release a girl-like giggle. "Yeah, mate...I think if you do something like that, you will break the internet almost definitely."

What Martin could not know, because they did not have that kind of a relationship, was that Lando's phone was full of noise recordings of him and Y/N having sex. She was quite a vocal person. And he was a bit of a naughty boy, asked for a permission to record a sex tape nearly dozens of times. His girlfriend was probably right in refusing to do so, given the fact that if a video got out, it would be a disaster for both of them. But, an audio? One without any names mentioned? That was something she felt comfortable. And it as this thing Lando was using to get himself off when he was traveling alone for the past few months. So yeah, Martin hit the nail on its "head" with this one.

Lando gulped, trying to get himself back in the right headspace and not thinking of all the times Y/N screamed and moaned for him while bent over a table or laying in a silky bed.

"I fuckin' love this idea, mate. I'm gonna check with the lawyer team and see if I can go and sample this or something," Martin said, his tone indicating he was happy and done for the day.

"Yeah. This would work," Lando replied, unable to tone his voice down to his usual octave.

//

It was a surreal plane trip home to Monaco. They'd wrapped at the studio and Lando was headed directly to airport. This was proving to be unfortunate, as there was no time for him to go anywhere and take care of the problem growing in his pants. He had never listened to their voice notes in public, but he could not find any sort of self-restraint not to do so that day. Shamelessly walking around the private lounge area with a ragging boner and sex noises blasting in his headphones. He prayed for no fans showing up. At one point he was debating just beating it off in the airport bathroom. A teenager he had not been for a long time now.

And like a cruel joke, a voice memo landed in his messages from Y/N precisely at the time he as about to board his flight.

A part of him hoped it was a voice note of her jerking off. Sadly, it was not.

"Hey, my love, I hope you're all good and will make the flight. I've had such a boring day and can't wait to see you," she said a tone so sweet Lando felt almost guilty for walking around with thoughts of her on all fours, begging for his cock. It brought him back to normal, which was probably for the better. "Anyway, I'll be at home, let me know when you're coming." He smiled, loving the fact they were there for each other even in the innocent sort of way. "Aaah, what a day," she ended the voice note with a moan. A fucking tired sort of sigh. Normally, it would be a very casual thing for Lando. But did it sound like something out of their sex tapes? Of course it fucking did. "Mmmm.." And with that, the voice memo ended and Lando's boner was right back on.

//

"Hi, my love."

"Hello, sweetheart."

It was something he was proud about. Teaching her to sleep naked. Sleeping in clothes is close to committing a crime when she has a body like that. Clothes were for the outdoors anyway. It was doing something to his ego to see she fully accepted that. To his luck, he found Y/N just like he wanted - bare, snuggled up in their bed under a criminal amount of duvets, but most importantly, given his current state, still somewhat awake. She was giving his the most inviting look he'd ever seen on a human.

"Are you hitting the shower?" Y/N asked, pushing the duvet closer to her neck, as if to cover herself for some reason. Lando found that more than amusing and shook his head.

They'd exchanged few pleasantries, mundane questions while we was undressing and finally crawled into the bed with her. As a natural move, she shifted, letting him to be the big spoon. He caressed her hair before stepping in. Changed his tone from casual to bedroom. Finally.

"You and me baby, just us. How it's suppose to be."

Flirting was a second language to Lando and he was not afraid to use it.

"I see you kept the bed warm for us," he said, warmed his hands by blowing his hot breath on both of them. When he was sure that his body adapted from the chilly outdoors air to their hot flat, he started tracing lines on her body and pressed his crotch to her ass, to test her reaction, and see if he got lucky and caught her in the right mood.

He wouldn't be able to see it, due to the fact he was spooning her from behind, but her eyes shot wide open as his ragging boner pressed on her and a cheeky smile crept in. She answered by moving back to him, and arching her back. Loud, horny sighs from Lando followed.

"I see you've been a good boy, am I right?" she whispered sensually.

And fucking yes, he was a good boy. She'd often reward him when he manage to obstain from jerking off when they were suppose to see each other. If he had been hard before, they would need to come up with a new name for what he was experiencing after hearing his hard work being acknowledged.

He gulped, trying to keep his some cool in his voice. "You can guess twice," he challenged and pushed his body towards her, squeezing his dick between their bodies. She giggled and turned on her back to face him. Tried to kiss him slowly, but he was having none of that. Once the door was opened, he took the lead and kissed her with all of his pent up hunger. His hands were holding her jaw in place, as if she was going to slip away - which was the exact opposite of her plans. Soon enough she kissed back with similar urgency, roaming her hands on his chest and pulling his ever-so-curly hair.

"I need you," she whispered when he reached away to take in some air.

He grinned, happy to have some sort of level of upper hand, given how down bad he actually was.

"Have you been a good girl, sweetheart?" he asked, expecting the same answer he gave her. His cheeky fingers started exploring her upper thighs.

She waited a moment. "No, I haven't," bit her lip. This took Lando as a surprise and he opened his mouth in disbelief.

"Well, would you look at that..." he said, secretly loving this side of her. Horny little angel, getting herself off. In his mind, it was like she'd been training for him. He gripped her thigh, making her gasp.

"I think you might still find some evidence on the sheets," she whispered, and it was exactly that sound that was a turning point of Lando. He flipped over to tower her and slammed his lips towards hers. He opened her legs with his hands and started exploring her core - and it was exactly as she said it. Still wet from her on fingers, as he'd imagined.

"Well then, we'll do this on my terms. You understand?" he said in a playful tone. "What are you?"

She knew what answer he was looking for. "Bad girl," she sighed as he fingered her in a way that could not be described as gentle. Soft moans started escaping her mouth and that was the main thing Lando was longing for.

"And what am I? For keeping myself full for you?" he asked, trying to keep her on the edge with his moves.

Her eyes were now shut and her arms locked around his back, same as her legs. "Good boy," she sighed.

"Exactly. So do me a favour," he said, kissing her again, "be loud for me tonight. Make my ears ring and wake up the neighbours. Otherwise I'll make sure you don't get what a good girl gets." Both of them knew there was not a single cell in Lando willing to keep his empty promise. She was going to finish multiple times and he'd work for it the whole night if he had to.

Back arched. Lando's fingers doing the God's work. "Yes," she almost choked on her breath and let out an honest and beautiful sound.

It was already getting too much for Lando, he stroked himself few times and then slid into her wet cunt, as if it was his home.

And boy, was it better than any home he'd ever know. He warm wet, almost dripping cunt welcomed him in the sweetest of ways. Lando waited few seconds for both of them to adjust before he gripped her legs and swung them over his shoulders. It was a dance they'd practiced countless times before. She knew to clench her legs and provide support for him to be able to fully start launching into her.

He gave her one more lustfilled look before he thrusted for the first time. The thing he was specifically looking forward was the way how the breath escaped her throat in almost surprised way - as if she was not expecting this to happen. Pure pleasure overruled any thoughts he was having pretty quickly. The way her walls clenched over him was a sensation very few things could compare to. It was so easy to start moving faster and harder. He lived for the sight of her, lying down beneath him, eyes closed and finally, after few more perfectly placed movements, first moans started to escape her lips. He wanted more, tonight he needed it all. Speeding up, gripping her legs tighter. And with that, he watched as her boobs were bouncing back and forth, a sight so glorious he had to put one of his hands on it. All that she was somehow trying to hide in, started to come out. Face stuck in a scream like position, hands gripping Lando's arms and the most glorious of it all - the silent moans growing into muted screams. And once he added even more speed, those turned into unhinged screaks. He didn't even notice him own mouth stuck open. Breaths were getting heavier and heavier, drops of sweet sweat were falling on her torso and slowly Lando moved his hand over to from her boobs to the crease of her neck and squeezed just a little bit, the way he knew she liked. He didn't mind that the sound she made got a little muffled - he could feel the sound coming from her throat before it left her body.

And then finally, Lando felt almost a hot liquid hit his dick and gradually bounce over to his lower stomach as he moved even quicker than before, knowing well enough that when this happened to her, the incoming orgasm was about to be glorious. He thrusted, fully focused on her expressions and loud screams.

When her release happened seconds later, he nearly came himself. By some miracle, he managed to hold it of for just few more minutes. He kept thrusting, while he felt her body collapse momentarily, complete hard shut down. More liquid came out of her and Lando wished he could fuck and lick her at the same time.

And just like that, she was back again, panting hard and finally, eyes open once again. Her fucked out face challenging him once again. She smirked and tried as much as he could to keep up his tempo. It always took her one orgasm to bounce back and become more active. Lando wished he could go on for hours, but his dick almost begged him to allow the release. He wasn't gonna deny himself pleasure tonight.

"Say my name," she said in a loud demanding tone, stern look on her face. He wanted to chuckle, always finding it amusing how she went from almost a comatose princess to a challenging boss girl in seconds. After he made her come, of course. But Lando's mind was truly getting blurry at that point. He kept saying her name as like some sort of prayer as he carried himself to the heavenly release. It was the ultimate relief, dipping in a hot water, getting charged with electricity, tasting the sweetest drink, stepping into the hottest sunshine. Whatever kind of pleasure Lando could think of, nothing would ever mount to finally releasing it into her, especially after a long, oh so long, build up.

And with that, he fell next to her. Heave panting on both sides of the bed, before either of them spoke.

"All good? Are you ok?" he asked, just like he always did after they'd slept together. The thought of her not having a good time haunted him. He was aware that it sometimes came out more anxiously than he intended to, but who has a proper working brain after a sex session.

Y/N turned at him, blissful smile on her lips. "Oh yeah, baby. Love when you come home like this."

He smirked, getting some of the blood back to his brain. "Hmm, I also love coming home."

Their fucked out minds chuckled at the stupid joke. He gathered all the remaining strenght, got up and cleaned her up.

"Oh God, I've missed you," she complained into the no quiet room, still filled with sex air.

"You have no idea, how much I did, sweetheart."

//

It had been a good few weeks before Lando found himself once again in Martin's studio. This time Y/N was able to join him on the iconic couch. They sat, her legs relaxed over his, Lando's hand stroking her shins innocently. Physical touch boy if there ever was one.

Light banter laced the evening, few sips from Martin's signature vodka sodas and general lightness of the company were bound to end up with Martin sharing his latest relationship news. The alternative girl he met in Germany? Yeah, that was over. However, the track was definitely not.

"Ok, but like, I'd never seen you this anxious about a new track before," Y/N spoke, feeling like there was something these two guys were walking around, somewhat afraid to say hat it was.

Martin and Lando shared a look. There was not a single bone in Lando's body that was afraid of Y/N reaction to this track. He way in fact dying to know what Martin has done with it in the past few weeks. Martin was not allowed by his label to send any demos, only to show them in person. Well, he was not even allowed that, but it's not like they were there with them in the room. Martin raised his brows while looking at Lando, as if to look for a permission. Lando nodded, secretly looking forward to seeing what Y/N had to say about their newest idea.

"Well, I'm actually still working on a track we tried to finish when your boyfriend was here the last time," he said reluctantly.

"Yeah mate, I'm stoked to hear what you recorded," Lando said, trying to add some entusiasm to Martin's speech.

Martin's face formed a small frown. "Well, I'm worried, mate. Listen for yourself, it might be just me hearing this track for too many times. But, I'm afraid it does not work."

This took Lando by surprise - he was full on expecting a hot, sexy banger.

Martin did not add anything and upon Y/N's plea for finally play it and with zero protests on Lando's side, he did just that.

So they listened to the almost six minute track. The instrumentals were basically in the exact same state as when Lando was there for the last time. Intrigue filled his body as the tempo slow down came - it must have been time for the moaning to start. He could not wait to see Y/N's reaction. Was there a chance she would actually be mad and consider it tacky?

He didn't let her out of his sight, no matter how much Martin tried to catch his eye. Y/N sat there, her usual focused face on, as per any other time they'd listen to a new track.

And just like that, it took Lando only few bars of the part with the moans to understand where Martin's disinterest came from. This wasn't the right vibe. There was absolutely no comparison to the original track they'd based this on. It was a weak mockery of that whole idea. Sounded cheap, almost fake and with no atmosphere whatsoever. A face of slight disgust formed on Lando's face and he temporarily forgot he was watching Y/N for her reaction. They finally exchanged a look with Martin, both knowing this was just not working. While the girl moaning into the track had a perfect pitch, something was just not right.

Only when the moans and sighs part of the track ended he noticed the look on his girlfriends face and started actually feeling embarrassed. Will she think this as his idea and that he is a pervy simpleton? That he actually likes this?

He started his defense before she'd have any time for a reaction.

"That's not good, mate," he stated the more than obvious. Martin nodded, his expression hard to decipher. "It was not meant to sound this cheap."

"Yeah, don't know what to tell you. We recorded this with like two other producers in the room, this girl is apparently a good porn actress with a perfect pitch. But it sounds just like that. Like, I wanted to create a hot track, this is just cheap and kind of sad."

Lando gulped, almost fearing Y/N's reaction.

And boy, was she staring at him. It almost caught him of guard. Definitely silenced him. If he had to describe it, it would something along the lines of shooting arrows. Lando felt very small. But then, like by some sort of miracle, the corner of her lip turned up and a cheeky smile started to form. Martin knew more than interfere in their silent conversations and turned around to leave them be. A shot of confidence went though Lando's bloodstream and he gave Y/N a questioning look. Almost wanting to challenge her to say something. She shot her eyebrows up and tried to bite her smile away. Lando played dumb and shook his head, as if he did not understand. With that, she nodded toward his phone that was lying next to his hips. Lando's eyes went wide and his heart rate went up. Is she really suggesting this?

Out of nowhere, her look still firm on Lando - who stopped blinking a long time ago - she spoke, probably more to Martin than her boyfriend.

"I love the idea, and I think it could catch on really well. But like you said. You can't fake that if it's suppose to be good. Any girl will se right through this anyway."

Was Lando about to fall in love all over again?

"So what, am I suppose to pay someone to fuck in the studio?"

The silence that followed was a heavy, awkward, hot and hilarious one. Many looks were exchanged between the three of them before, as they say, all the pennies dropped.

"Oh my God," Martin exclaimed. Neither Lando or Y/N reacted in any verbal way, however Lando did raise his eyebrows in order to stop his smile from growing. Failing at that miserably. Suddenly, he was more than aware of Y/N legs near his crotch.

Martin shook his head, as if he became prudent out of nowhere and spun on his chair few times, most likely thinking it over. Lando was about to step in to ease the tension, but Y/N was faster.

"It would be the easiest way to test if the track works, just saying," she commented and Lando tried to stay as still as possible, almost worried that if he moves to much, he might wake up.

To potentially have his girlfriends orgasm voice blasted anonymously in clubs all around the world was doing some thing to his semi-exhibicionist persona, which he had to keep buried deep down. Things he had a lot of trouble admitting to outloud.

The conversation was continuing, no matter how spaced out and horny Lando became.

"Ok, say it works. Are you ok with this staying on the track?" Martin asked Y/N only. He knew his mate well enough to figure he'd be more than fine with it.

Y/N seemed to think about it, in a serious way, for few moments. The air felt oh-so-heavy to Lando. Please, say yes. Both of you.

"As long as it stays anonymous and nobody else, not even your label ever finds out, I say we go and give it a try," she answered and turned over to her boyfriend. He knew the look she had on her face more than well. It was the same one she'd have after agreeing to press record on their personal sex voice memos. And it was doing things to him.

It looked like Martin was coming around with the idea.

"Fuck it, ok then. I guess, I'll just press the button and give you guys some space in the recording room. But like, bare in mind I only need her, not you," he hinted over to Lando, "and for the sake of our friendship, I'd really appreciate if you kept it clean in terms of dirty talk. I don't want this to be the reason I died. Also no...mess please. Ugh."

Lando downed his drink, still unable to believe this was happening, and finally spoke again. "I'm sure there is a way to make sure we get only Y/N's voice."

Images flooded their heads - for Y/N very much wanted, to perfectly contrast Martin's reaction, who was sitting on the complete opposite of the excitement spectrum.

"Ok, let's go with it before I change my mind," Martin said and began prepping the recording room.

Lando squeezed his girlfriends hand, to make sure she was really ok with it.

"I love you," he whispered, unable to hold it in.

"Me too. I'm happy you don't think of me as slutty or perverted," she replied, hint of shame for the first in a long time creeping on her face.

"I would never....We can stop whenever, if you stop feeling it, ok? Please promise you'll let me know."

There was a look on her face he couldn't put a name on. "Thank you."

Martin coughed demonstrateively. "Lando, come over. I'll tell you what to do." Lando eyebrows shot up once again. "Not like that, with the recording, you weirdo," Martin exhaled, already regretting the decision.

//

"So, the recording is on, have a good one, I guess," were Martin's last words before Y/N was about to have a series of little deaths.

And with the click of the door, they were alone. Deep dark silence. Never before has she seen Lando stare at her this much like a hunter would at his prey. His good name was on the line. Maybe not for the whole world, but he had to show his best bud he can make his girl come. And perhaps something more than that.

The room was small, light dimmed out.

"So, what do you have in mind?" she asked softy, still not quite in the same feral mood Lando was in. He crossed over the distance between them slowly to put a finger on her mouth.

"No words, remember?" he reminded himself probably more than her. His plan was never to fuck her here. She'd soon find that out.

With ease and confidence only those who kissed each other countless of times, he locked his lips with hers. His hand in the back of her hair, pulling, not gently. Her tongue rolled over his and she bit his upper lip, to return the favor perhaps. Her head bent back and he follow the train to her collarbone with pecks. With ease, he started walking her over to the chair here the recording artist would usually sit. Today, she'd be the main act and he her muse. She was regretting not wearing a skirt that day. He saw no issue when he pulled her jeans down. He was already hard and just had to squeeze himself for few times, a mindless action. No doubt in his mind that before the night calls quits that day, he'd see his own release. She noticed his moves and tried to get in on the action, only to somewhat wake him up from his own selfishness as he stopped her hands reaching his crotch. Another head shake - hopefully, this time she'd get the hint.

Her eyes were filled with hot wanderlust and with that, she gave up on trying to take the lead. He smiled and got rid of her panties as well.

Two strong hands popped her up on the round chair with no back rest. One last kiss on the lips before he knelt down. Stomach tingled with anticipation. Lando was taking his time, slowly kissing his way up her legs. The ever so blue, green and whatever colored eyes glowing with lust. He stopped at the spot where thighs and knees bend, his tongue finally out, as if for a practice run. Only recently he found out about her secret soft spot. He watched her face relax and give in, first pleasure arriving. He was the moon and her body a shore, waiting for the waves.

Long heavy breath. Lando wanted, needed more. He progressed further and further, until the only place left to go were her folds and wet core. But before that, he didn't for get to leave few bite marks on her upper thighs. Quick catch of breath and her hands buried in his curls. Watching him as if the gods had sent him to ruin her.

And they might have. Normally, he's utter few cheeky lines before dipping his tongue deep into her, but the looks were all he could use this time.

Relaxed and come for me, baby. Drip all over this chair and make them know I can make you scream.

His tongue could as well be completely dry and it would not matter. They way how he was all over her got her wet anyway. His moves were never the same, yet they always worked like magic. He twisted, pulled in and out and all over. Slight bite at her less sensitive folds. Clit suck. And then he called upon his fingers to assist. She was barely sitting on the chair, legs fully rested on his shoulders, priorities loud and clear. As were her moans she didn't notice at first. She had to support herself with her arm, squeezing the weak leather top of the chair. Her other hand was busy with pushing Lando's face towards her. First tide started to arrive. Lando drew his head back to catch some breath - and she let him, because his fingers became the main act. He made sure to hold the tempo, knowing that would work like volume increase button. Was there a more beautiful sight than watching a woman you love hit the highs of life? Lando very much doubted. Judging by the way her face clenched, she must have forgotten the why and where. Her throat served like a gateway to pleasure sounds. And she screamed, more and even more once he sucked her clit again.

They call it little deaths because it might just be the only accurate description of what washed over her. If wasn't often he'd go down on and not fuck her shortly afterwards. Since that was out of the picture, she focused fully on his moves, knowing this was the peak.

He felt her relax after a particularly loud scream. Coming down to Earth once again. She opened her eyes and he smirked. He knew, by the way she tried to steady his breath and the slight movement of her supporting hand that she considered it "job done". She nodded and head and he shook his once again. Her puzzling look quickly replaced by a lip bite as his mouth traveled back to her core.

One more round, one could say Lando's ego was becoming the main hero of this story. The thought of somebody having to go and listen to another round of him destroying his girl with pleasure was an intoxicating one.

//

Martin's track was an instant hit and minor shock to the public. Never before has he released something so explicit. Y/N's screams were out for the whole world to listen and it did a wonder to their sex life. It was something else to fuck and blast your own love soundtrack on.

There were two main versions release, one less explicit, for the DJ's to play around the radio during the day and for club goers to party to during the night.

Lando stopped counting how many times it happened that in the middle of the day he'd hear this song around the paddock radio. Whenever he did, he would send Y/N a photo with a cheeky wink, and she'd do the same when she had the luck of listening to her own voice in public like that. A nice, somewhat innocent tradition for them only to understand.

//

Keep you friends close and rivals closer. That's how Lando ended up at one of the many celebrations of Max Verstappen's title celebrations. Little did he mind, secretly loving the fact the pressure was off him for a moment. Expensive alcohol flowing freely also helped.

He found himself sitting in a VIP booth across from Max, by some stroke of luck, alone. And of course, that was the first time he slipped up. Somehow he managed to avoid a situation when someone who knew him well was around when Martin's monaco kiss came up.

"the recording is on, have a good one, I guess"

Martin decided to keep his own line in the intro, only later admitting he'd re-recorded it out of his own insecurity. Which Lando found very amusing, given the fact him and Y/N only needed one take to get it right perfectly.

His stomach dropped a bit when he heard the now iconic opening line. Shifted a bit to regain some composure. Sipping a drink might help to hide his slight panic and lack of any real light did not allow his blushed cheeks to go noticed.

Across from him, Max was nodding his feet to the beat of the track. The conversation grew stale a moment while, so Max's complimentary comment on Lando's friend's track must have been intended as an innocent ice-breaker.

"what do you have in mind"

Another line kept in from the recording. Y/N's real voice hidden under many layers of autotune to keep her identity anonymous. As per her wish and Lando's secret regret.

The tempo started to slow down. Anyone would remember the track by heart if they'd listened to it the same amount of times as Lando had. Words were lost on him and he did not find a response to Max's comment. Very unusual from Lando. He sipped his now empty drink, hoping more liquid had magically appeared. Max noticed something was off. And then the key jump, straight out the book Diet Pepsi took inspiration from. Followed by the peak moan, or maybe a scream, from his girl for everyone to hear. It was not supposed to be this arousing. Max tilted his head and after another few beats, his intense stare aimed at his rival/friends went wide.

Lando tried to stop his smirk. He really did.

Max's mouth went open and he stopped his breath before uttering a simply lovely, slightly astonished: "No way."

Lando averted his gaze to the crowd below in order to avoid Max, who chuckled and took a big gulp of his not-empty glass.

If the lights went on, everybody would be able to see a bright red Lando. He was never going to break his promise about keeping this a secret, so he did not comment. But he grinned at Max's nod of approval.

He excused himself as went to the bar. Searching for his girl.

Light brush on her waist made her turn, wonder in her eyes easing when she saw it was him. They were both in the same horny headspace.

He leaned in and whispered, as much as one can whisper in a club, the last few beats of their track playing. "You sound so hot, baby. I'm so down bad for you."

Tipsy, she shot him a wide smile and mouthed a silent "i love you".

[nerdlvr]

✩ 69

(MDNI)

smutty smut , nerd jisung x hot girl experienced reader , ji's first time giving head , 69 sex position (first time writing this ahh) , pussy eating , dick sucking , sorta face riding , she's on top , big dick ji (canon) , lots of body fluids , jisungs a pussy hungry dork , kinda pt. 2 to library head , lmk if i missed anything!

jisung would probably die of embarrassment if you could see his face. he was practically foaming at the mouth, cheeks burning red as you wiggled your ass in his face, your soft giggles only made him impossibly harder as he imagined how you'd mock him for looking this desperate.

"come of ji, just give it a taste."

he watched as your juices glistened against your folds, hips still wiggling in a taunting motion.

"i- i don't know if i can do- oh my-"

his hands came up to grip your thighs, the soft kitten lick you landed on his tip making his head spin.

"we can stop if you want ji-"

your small fingers wrapped around his length, gently gripping his base as you leaned down again to give his leaking head a kiss.

"fuck- don't do that- i'm gonna-"

you giggled again, moving your hand away his length and placing it on his thigh, slightly turning your body to get a look at him,

"baby look-"

you reached in between your legs, reaching into your core to collect your juices before extending your fingers out in front of his mouth.

"taste."

he stuck his tongue out, eyes meeting yours as you placed your wet fingers on his tongue. a grin spread on your lips as you watched him moan against your fingers, eyes rolling back into his head.

"good?"

he nodded quickly, mouth chasing your fingers as you pulled them away from his lips.

"now here-" you pointed to your core.

his tongue poked out to wet his lips, a small gulp running along his throat, "tell me if it's too much okay?"

you wanted to laugh at his question but your voice got caught in your throat, body going limp against his lap as he dove straight in.

"ji- jisung wait-" you gripped his thighs, moans leaving your lips as he lapped at your dripping core, tongue stiff against your clit. his hands were harsh against your hips, pulling your ass closer to his face, glasses pressing painfully against your supple skin.

you gripped his length, trying your best to also bring him some pleasure, but your forehead pressed against his pubic bone, eyes squeezed shut as he completely devoured you.

"jisung please- slow down- i- fuck."

he let go of your clit with a loud pop, fingers coming up to rub against your heat as he angled his head to look at you, "am i doing good? am i?"

you turned to face him. his glasses were foggy, pushed close against his face, swollen lips parted slightly awaiting your response.

"doing so good ji, just go a little-" he didn't get to hear the end of your response, ears zoning out as he got back to slurping at your juices.

jisung had never been a fan of sweets, but tasting you was almost addicting. everything else was a blur (partially due to his foggy glasses) the taste of you against his tongue turning his brain into mush.

he could cum like this alone, your hips moving gently against his tongue, your soft sounds filling his ears, but you were not a quitter. your hands wrapped tightly around his base as you forced yourself to remain steady, lips wrapping his aching length.

a smile spread on your lips as you felt him moan against your core, hips jutting up slightly against your mouth. you were quick to move against him, spit starting to collect in your mouth as you bobbed your head along his length.

he detached from your core, whiny moans leaving his lips as you picked up speed, sloppy noises of spit coming from below him,

"fuck- fuck- fuck- you're so good at that- fuck."

he pulled your hips down towards his face again, tongue flat against your heat. his grip tightened as he rocked your hips against his face, his groans vibrating against you as he pressed himself deeper into your cunt.

you moved your mouth away from him, spit helping your hands glide against his length as you jerked him off,

"ji- ji baby- yes- just like that-"

your body was now upright as pressed yourself onto jisung's face, his grip on your hips guiding you against his tongue. you rubbed yourself on him like your life depended on it, stomach tightening at the feeling of his stiff tongue grazing your swollen bud,

"so good baby- so good."

only deep groans could be heard from him as you continued to rock against him, using him to reach your high.

his glasses clattered against the bed as they fell off his face, giving jisung a new sense of freedom as he began to shake his head against your core, new vibrations radiating against you.

"keep- keep going ji- i'm gonna-"

he winced slightly as your grip on his length tightened almost painfully, your orgasm making your whole body tense above him. you fell against his lap again, loud moans leaving your lips as he eased you through your orgasm, soft hands massaging your ass as his tongue slowed against you.

if jisung thought you tasted good before, now he thought you tasted amazing. his tongue prodded at your pulsing hole, new juices flowing out of you. he sucked desperately, this new taste better than the last.

but his trance was short lived as he felt you pinch his thigh, your pained moans bringing him back to earth.

"jisung! jisung! too much, hurts, please."

he let out a nervous chuckle, hand coming up to scratch his head,

"s-sorry, you taste really good-"

your giggling made him flush, his sheepish personality coming back once again.

"that- that's a compliment! good taste of body fluids usually means good diet and hygiene! in my biology clas- oh!"

he threw his head back against your sheets as you lips wrapped around his tip, tongue swirling against the flushed skin.

"i don't give a fuck about your biology class jisung."

rude. but not like he cared, the rest of his biology class probably wasn't getting insane head.

[slayfics]

Katsuki struggles to let you do things on your own.

650 words

Katsuki painfully watched as you fumbled around with the shampoo bottle attempting to pop open the top.

"Here," he grumbled snapping open the top, eliciting a sigh from you.

The room was filled with steam from the hot water that rained out in the shower. You had been home from the hospital for a few days following a major injury from hero work. Even though the doctors recommended that Katsuki let you do things on your own, he was having difficulty staying back. Including, accompanying you into the shower.

"Kats," you sighed. "You're supposed to let me do things on my own," you reminded him.

"I just opened the damn shampoo bottle," he said, but his eyes watched as you struggled to squeeze the shampoo out onto your hand. Hands barely being able to hold back from taking the bottle again to lather your hair for you.

Your hand strength wasn't back yet, and all your movements were painfully slow, making the most mundane tasks a challenge. Including squeezing shampoo out of a bottle.

"Want help?" he mumbled, being unable to contain himself.

"No," You snapped stubbornly. Frustrated at him, but mostly with yourself and your inebriated movements.

Katsuki's eyes snapped away from you, a small gesture that signified you'd hurt him.

You sighed again, finally getting enough soap in your hand to begin running it through your hair.

"I'm sorry Katsuki, I know this is hard for you," you sympathized with him.

"The hell do you mean hard for me? You're the one that's struggling to wash your damn hair," he pointed out. "Just let me help, brat."

"Katsuki if I don't start doing what I can on my own I'm never going to fully recover. I have to do it on my own even if it's hard or takes me way too long," you said refusing his help again. Katsuki grunted in annoyance.

"I get it, your love language is acts of service, so this is hard for you to not be able to do things for me," You clarified your early statement.

"You talking about that dumb test you made me take ages ago?" he asked, eyeing your slow movement as your fingers ran through your hair to work the soap in.

"Mhm," You hummed, placing your head back to let the water run over your hair. Satisfied, you moved out of the water again. "You show love by doing things for me, so this has to be torture for you to watch me struggle, but I have to. I want to get better." You explained. "Maybe just pretend your love language is something else while I recover," you joked.

Katsuki clicked his tongue, "Like what words of affirmation? I don't think so," he said.

"Awe, you did pay attention to the test!" You cooed at him. "Yeah, give it a shot, affirm me with your words" You joked, grabbing the conditioner bottle now and starting the painfully slow process again.

Katsuki watched as you struggled but eventually popped the top open, "Wow babe you're doing great," he said sarcastically, enticing a laugh out of both of you. "Fuck that was awful," he chuckled.

"What? No! That was good!" You laughed, feeling pain in your belly from your deep laugh. It had been a while since you'd laughed that hard.

"Fuck no, ain't doing that cheesy shit again," he stated.

"Fine fine," you agreed, laughter barely subsiding. "How about quality time then, just stay next to me, and when I need help with something I promise I'll ask," you suggested, washing your hair under the water again.

"Alight," he agreed.

"Here," you said handing him a loofah. "You can do my back for me."

You hadn't noticed how much tension Katsuki had been holding until his shoulders dropped and face relaxed at finally being able to help you with something.

"Thought you'd never ask," he smiled.

[shotmrmiller]

whenever simon needs a lay, he doesn't go for girls like you: all snarky attitude and self-assuredness in that hole-in-the-wall bar with the peeling wallpaper, dim lighting, and sagging ceiling tiles. he wants those insecure things; the soft, quiet ones who've been recently dumped and are drinking away their woes. the ones who'll take him to theirs in a drunken haze and wake up startled, kicking him out of the front door without their number and an embarrassed forget this ever happened.

can do, sweetheart. (see ya never.)

but you've caught his interest. maybe it was the way your face was bare— pockmarks on your cheeks and eyebrows untamed—yet you exuded confidence not even that loud bimbo with the fake lashes and vibrant ruby lipstick could ever recreate. maybe it was the way you held your own against that drunken man who attempted to grab a handful of arse over your faded, torn jeans, catching his pathetic bollocks and giving them a gnarly twist.

who knows. who cares.

what matters is that you've caught him by complete surprise.

he figured you were the type to want a firm hand. a couple of harsh slaps to your cheeks (both top and bottom), a fistful of your hair in his grip to pull, and to fuck you into the mattress until your body was imprinted on it.

wrong.

the moment he pulled your hair taut, you'd immediately tangled your clever fingers into his chest hair. "i'm no horse, brit. my hair isn't reins for you to lead me around with."

then he tried to bend you over his knee. proper brat like you needs to be put in'er place.

also wrong. "not that either. not yet anyway."

and then he's wrong a third time because you're no passive participant.

he sloppily eats your cunt like it's his first meal since coming back from urzikstan— warm tongue, thick fingers, and the occasional pinch of his crooked teeth on your swollen bundle of nerves. when he tries to pull away, your entrance more than slick enough to take him without much discomfort, you fervently dig your heels into the scarred tissue of his strong back., stopping him in his tracks.

"you stop 'til i finish and not a moment sooner." his whiskey breath is warm between your legs when he huffs out, "affirm." you're fluttering around his hand in minutes when you start to direct him on how you like it, which he supposes is fortunate for you since he's real good at taking orders and even better at obeying them.

your climax is sweet in his mouth with a subtle hint of brine. the exact opposite of you, he finds. simon doesn't even get the chance to tell you to say anything because you're flipping onto your knees and shoving his rigid length into your mouth. he can't help the strangled sound that escapes him when the tip of him touches the back of your throat, constricting when you gag.

bloody hell.

you look up at him; wide, glassy eyes and sunken cheeks and it's pathetic how he can already feel himself on the precipice of ecstasy and he hasn't even gotten to the good part.

when he watches you place a condom in your mouth and roll it on his cock without hands, simon had to squeeze his eyes shut and think of england to stop the fire that threatened to light him ablaze.

alrigh', enough. on your back.

"no. get on yours."

your small hands push against his barrel chest, gesturing he lie back— today preferably.

impatient bint.

you ignore that quip, opting to wrap your fingers around his thick base and sink onto him in one smooth motion.

slow, don't want ya hurtin' ya'self.

he gnaws on his tongue painfully— almost cutting it open with his canine— to keep from finishing because, bloody fuckin' hell, do you feel like the heaven he'll never see.

simon's hands curl and tighten around the swell of your hips— his blunt, square nails digging into your sensitive skin. "easy," you hiss, "i bruise like a peach."

taste like it, too.

you look so sweet, so pliant while being split open on his cock, hot cunt sodden with your earlier release— it sends mind-numbing arousal tingling up his spine, feeling it at the base of his skull. simon grunts when you begin to move, a languid up and down, gentle but firm. spots dance in his vision when you take all of him, his bollocks flush against your arse.

pretty thing with fire in your eyes taking him so well even though others have needed breaks to work up to it. muscle memory takes over then, his callused fingers automatically searching for your swollen clit, but you slap them away. "too sensitive, i'd only be uncomfortable."

yes ma'am.

you chuckle at that, pussy fluttering as you do and simon hisses through his clenched teeth.

keep tha' up 'nd i'll be done before the fun even starts.

this time you clamp down on purpose, your cunt squeezing his cock like a silken fist. "wouldn't that just be a shame. old man like yourself only got one in you?" the playful taunt sinks its teeth into the ego he's never cared about— leaving behind a mark that stings and lingers— and the lieutenant rears his head, if only for a moment.

watch it.

your eyes widen fractionally but your lips curl at the corners in amusement. "sorry, sir." minx.

his thoughts dissolve like sugar in hot tea once your hips began to rise and fall again, this time a much quicker pace. he surrenders to your unsatiable passion-- a hungry beast, feeding on want, on need-- with only his obsidian-black mask as witness.

for the first time in months (since price bent him over his desk post-op that one time) he's the one getting fucked.

and when you plant your feet by his sides, when your hips cant at the slightest of angles, his flared head presses against something firm and his world ceases to exist, the intensity of now reaching its peak.

when he comes to, your sweat-slick body trembles with effort, your pretty cunt still stuffed to the brim with his softening length. but he's not done with you yet, not by a long shot. now it's his turn.

in a quick movement, you find yourself on your back, looking up at simon, and the mewl that falls from your lips bounces off of the spartan white walls when he hooks your legs over his broad shoulders, and claims you again.

he plans on leaving a delicious ache between your legs that won't let you forget this night-- at least not for the next few days. (not like you could, i mean look at him. plus, he's going to magically forget his gloves here, maybe his pack of cigarettes. he's also definitely jotting down his phone number somewhere.)

forgive me i'm tired now so i lost some air at the end hehehe

[ilylovelyz]

⍣ ೋ i'm sprung

˚ · . bokuto koutaro x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ virginity loss, both characters are 18 but in highschool, protected sex, marking, handjob, fingering

ah, fuck-, is all bokuto can think or say.

his mind is swirling with such emotions at the moment, hazy and unclear. he thinks back as to how he had won a big game earlier, and was so happy to see you so proud of him.

the two of you planned to go to your house afterwards, get some pizza to celebrate and watch the clips of his earlier game.

you gave him a sweet "victory" kiss on his cheek, making the boy blush happily. you gave him another victory kiss, although this time on his nose top. and then another, but this time on the corner of his lips.

"just give me my victory kiss already.." bokuto whined. you laughed at his anticipation. his hand came to rest on your nape as he realized that he was going to have to do it himself.

you gasped into the kiss. it wasn't just a sweet little kiss. no, it was much more than that. although slow at first, it quickly turned into something much more. he kissed you with such want and fevour, his hands keeping you from pulling away.

tongue dancing with tongue, salivating down each other's chins. your hands gripped at his shoulder, trying to ground yourself from the dizzying kiss.

a sweet victory kiss turned into much more.

now, your hand is wrapped around his girth, fucking his cock with the soft skin of your palm. his hips buckle and tremble into it, gasps occasionally leaving his mouth when you teasingly poke and prod at his sensitive tip.

his own hand lays underneath your black panties, his fingers exploring your sex. you pull away from your heated kiss, a string of saliva keeping the two of you attached. you can't help but bite your lip when his middle finger slips into your virgin hole, the new sensation burning painfully up your spine.

"ah," you cry, your free hand gripping onto his wrist. "sorry baby," he murmurs, kissing the apple of your cheek. he watches you with low eyes, only closing when your hand tightens around his length.

his middle finger experiments with you, slowly stretching you out. it's only when the pain seems to subside when he adds another into your virgin hole. bokuto grins at the sight of your back arching, soft moans leaving your pouty lips.

he's quick to speed up inside you, his fingers working to find that sweet spot he heard of when scrolling various forms online.

he knows he found it when your head lolls back, cute face scrunching up into a silent moan. "f-feel good baby?" he teases. although you can't really take him seriously when his voice cracks from the way he tries to resist cummimg all over your palm from just watching your face.

"feels good kou.." you cry. "good, t-thats fucking good." he grunts out. just a little more, he has to remind himself. he feels like his cock is about to explode from the way he's resisting the urge to cum. his lady always come first.

with the touch of his finger tip pressing against that sweet spot of yours so tightly it has a wave of pleasure coming over you, your pussy walls clamping tightly around his fingers. bokuto's head dips down with relief when he finally cums over your delicate hand, grunting loudly with pleasure.

"fuck.." he breathes out, looking closely at the fingers you came on, all covered with your cum. he doesn't hold back, he immediately begins to shamelessly drink up your juices despite your embarrassed disapprovals.

"don't be ashamed baby, you taste so good." he smiles, making strong eye contact with you. bokuto has to hold back a smirk when he watches your cheeks go red with his lewd comment. for now, he can only feel his cock twitch at your innocence.

he was about to pull away from you entirely to go look for tissues before your hand grabs at his shirt. he looks back at you with a confused expression, seeing how your flushed. "...are we not gonna do it?" you whisper. bokuto dumly blinks at you in response, his jaw agape slightly.

"y-you wanna do it?" he asks, his face inching closer to yours. "..are you sure?" he asks once more when you nod your head slowly. "well we've been dating for almost a year.. don't you think it's about time?" you point out, feeling more confident in the situation.

bokuto gulps nervously, but at the same time, he can't help but feel 2x more aroused than earlier. "are you sure?" he asks once again, he just has to make sure you're serious. "i'm sure dummy!" you giggle, smiling softly at his check-up.

"do.. we have condoms?" he thinks out loud. "yes, i bought some the other day. i knew you were gonna win the match so.. i just wanted to be prepared." you say nonchalantly, rolling over to the nightstand and pulling out an unopened box of condoms.

he could bust a nut at your preplanning right now. he grabs the condoms from you, but before he opens one he looks at you one more. his eyebrows are furrowed lightly, although he's hornier than ever before and wants to fuck his adorable little girlfriend so bad, your needs and wants still to come first.

seeing your intentness, he finally rips open the condom. his heart is pounding so fast, his trembling hands trying to fish the lubed condom out of the seal. once he finally gets it out, he strokes his cock unconsciouslly a few times before he rolls the condom on.

bokuto shuffles towards you, his hips pressing against your inner thighs. with a final look at you, he pushes the tip in everso slowly.

his head snaps back up to you, his heart breaking at your pained cries. his cock is big, he wishes it wouldn't hurt for you. he inches his cock in little by little, trying to shake off his own body trembling with every inch that slides into your tight walls.

he feels like he's being suffocated, being hugged so tightly from within he thinks he's gonna pass out. he only breathes out when he bottoms out fully, letting out a huge sigh of relief when he feels your pussy contracting and tightening around his full length.

bokuto reaches a hand down to your own, bringing it up to place a gentle kiss on the back of your palm. you bring your hand up to his nape, bringing him down to embrace him into a kiss.

with that, he slowly rocks his hips into yours, inhaling deeply into the passionate kiss he shares with you. bokuto pulls away with a low groan, his forehead resting against yours when he slides himself back into you.

he reaches a hand underneath your bra, fondling the soft flesh with shaky hands. bokuto rests his head in the crook of your neck, suckling and biting onto the delicate flesh, leaving marks that have his cock throbbing within you.

before the two of you can even comprehend, the both of you are humping against each other like dogs in heat. your hands scratch and pull at the skin of bokuto's broad back, feeling every bone and strong muscle underneath your finger tips. "fuck- you feel so good, y/n." he rasps out, pulling away from your embrace to plant his hand beside your head, looking down at you drunkingly.

he can't even think straight, he clenches his eyes closed with every pulse of your pussy does around his cock. his hips slam into yours, desperately chasing his release.

when he opens his eyes, he almost cums at the way you play with your own boobs with one hand, and your clit with another. "you're so-so sexy, s-shit, i'm gonna cum y/n-", he barely chokes out, his free hand comimg to grab and grope at your body.

"m-me too kou!" you moan out, your mouth agape with a loud moan as another orgasm washes over you, toes curling tightly as you enter cloud nine. "o-oh f-uck!" he manages to say before he's finally spilling his release inside the condom, his hips pathetically humping and grinding against yours like some dog.

bokuto is left loudly gasping and huffing for air, his orgasm leaving him trembling and weak. he barely as any strength left when he pulls his limp cock out of your sensitive walls, falling over to the side of you.

you hum contently, still out of breath nonetheless. he comes to rest his head against your neck, purring like a cat when your hands come to scratch his broad back.

how amazing.

please leave a like and repost with tags if you enjoyed!!

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Wedding Night

In which you and Max spend your first night together as newlyweds.

Warnings: smut. this is all smut, minimal plot. talk of babies, breeding kink, birth control, lots of 'my wife' and 'my husband' use. i'm feral tbh Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2.6k

- The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 3 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 4 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Bonus Sessions - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Royal Wedding - Master List

“Let’s get you out of this dress. I want to see what’s been under it all day.” Max whispers against your shoulder later that night when you’re alone in the villa. His fingers trail up your bare arm, igniting sparks of heat in their wake.  

You take Max’s hand, leading him towards the bedroom of your sprawling villa, eyes dark with need. As you walk, you let one of the thin straps fall away before slipping out of the second one. “I need help with the zipper, Max.” You say, voice a husky whisper in the quiet room. 

Behind you, Max is looking at you like he wants to eat you alive, the hunger in his eyes near feral. He reaches for the back of your dress without any more prompting, shaking hands dragging the zipper down painfully slow. Reaching up, you tug the bun out of your hair, enjoying the sound that Max makes when your hair tumbles down over your shoulders in a cascade of waves. 

Your wedding dress pools at your feet, a pile of lace and satin that you step out of, making your way towards the bed. Max just stands there, watching you go, hungry look on his face. 

Outside, the sun has fully disappeared below the horizon, leaving the villa bathed in the golden yellow glow of the interior lights. The salty air flutters through the open back doors, the crash of the ocean creating a soft soundtrack to your first night as a married couple. 

You crawl onto the bed wearing only the white bits of lace lingerie that you’d bought specifically for tonight and when you turn back to face Max, you’re struck by the look of sheer lust on your husband’s face. Husband. You still were getting used to working your tongue around that word. It was wild, how strange but natural the word felt falling from your lips. 

“Are you going to leave me here alone, husband?” Gazing up at Max through thick lashes, you smirk before catching your bottom lip between your teeth. 

Max seems to snap into action then, stalking towards you as he unbuttons his linen shirt that suddenly feels to constricting. “Open those legs for me, lifeje. I want to see how good my wife tastes.” 

A thrill zings through you at being called his wife and you can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips in response. 

Max joins you on the bed, kneeling before you between your open legs. He bites his lip as he reaches down to slip his fingers under the band of the bits of lace that covers you. “So pretty.” He murmurs before he shifts his weight forward, leaning in for a kiss. 

“Max.” You sigh against his lips when he kisses you, whining a bit when he licks into your mouth. 

“Yes, wife?” He mumbles, mouth not daring to leave yours as his fingers dip beneath the fabric at your hips. He chuckles darkly when his fingers reach their destination, finding you soaking wet for him already. 

You arch against him, pleasure already burning deep in your core at just his touch. “Can’t believe I’m your wife.” 

“Fuck, that sounds so good.” The rasp of his voice sends goosebumps skittering down your spine, despite the room being warm from the day’s sun and heat. “I’m so lucky you chose me to be your husband, schatje. Let me show you how lucky I am.” 

“Please.” You beg against him, hips rocking up against his body in an attempt to get some relief from the aching need that has been thrumming inside you since you said your vows earlier in the evening. 

“Lay back and let your husband do all the work tonight, okay love? Can you do that for me?” Max trails open mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, stopping to suck little reminders of your wedding night into your skin so you remember tonight for days to come. 

“Anything for you, baby.” You manage, the sensations of Max’s lips on your skin and fingers working over your clit almost too much to take already. 

He trails more kisses down your body, sucking purple bruises into your skin as he makes his way to his destination, enjoying your sharp intake of breath every time he nips at you. “You like watching me with my head between her thighs, don’t you?” He asks when his head dips between your legs, hands finally pulling off the lace covering your pussy. 

The pleasure of having his hands and mouth on your body sends the buzzing in your head to another level, so loud you can’t focus on anything beyond Max’s touch and voice. You idly wonder if it’s possible to come from just hearing Max call you his wife over and over. It’s an experiment you’re willing to run. 

When his tongue splits you open for him for the first time, your hips snap up off the bed in a needy reaction. He slings one of his arms over your hips, pinning you to the down comforter. Your hands sift through his thick hair, tugging on it when he dives in. Long, languid licks lap up the mess you’ve already made for him and the way Max works you over with his mouth nearly sends you into another universe. 

“I can’t believe I get to eat you out for the rest of my fucking life.” He muses, barely coming up for air.  The only response you can muster in your haze of lust is a choked sound of surrender, a sigh of relief when his tongue finally presses against your clit for the first time. “Oh, my good girl. My pretty little wife. Do you like that?” 

“Yes.” You hiss, back arching even more into his waiting mouth. 

Stars explode behind your eyelids when he pulls your clit between his teeth, the sharp bite drawing the most erotic moan that Max has ever heard out of you. From his spot between your legs, Max slips first one and then two fingers into your wet little cunt as you continue your grind against his mouth. “That’s it, use me to get yourself off.” His voice is muffled by his refusal to remove his head from between your legs but you hear him well enough. 

You feel that telltale sign of liquid fire pouring down your spine as Max works you over with both his mouth and fingers. Your entire consciousness eddies down to this one single place, all that matters is that Max never stops and you never have to go another day without his mouth on you or fingers inside you. “Don’t stop.” You beg, blindly reaching for anything to hold onto, eventually landing one hand in his hair and the other fisting the white sheets beneath you. “I love you so much baby, fuck. Holy fuck.” You sob, hips grinding up into his mouth in a desperate search for relief. 

You tumble over the crest of your orgasm so quickly it hits you like a freight train, your hands fisting Max’s hair so tightly the pain mixes with his pleasure delightfully. His name tumbles out of your mouth so quickly it’s unintelligible babble. All Max does is hold his tongue against your clit and fingers deep inside you as you spasm against him. “That’s it, baby. Look at my sweet wife coming all over me. You look so pretty coming around my fingers, schatje.” 

He talks you through the rest of your orgasm until you’re quiet beneath him, breath coming in short spurts as you try to recover. “Max.” Seems to be the only word you can find in your vocabulary, which suits your husband just fine. If that’s the only word you can say, he’s glad it’s his name and nothing else. 

Max crawls up your body when your climax finally subsides, face glistening with your slick mess. He licks his lips, all swollen and red after licking you so good. You look so effortlessly gorgeous beneath him, he has to take a moment before he do anything else. 

“I have another present for you.” You whisper when you regain the ability to speak. 

Max cocks a brow at you. “I thought we weren’t doing any more gifts, little miss ‘I hate when you spoil me’.” He teases, biting at your neck. 

You roll your eyes while lifting your hands to frame his face. “Remember when I went to see the doctor a last week?” 

Max nods, remembering how you came home in a significant amount of pain afterwards. You had refused to give you any details behind the appointment though, just saying that you were due to get your period soon and it was all hormones. “Yeah, and I’m still annoyed you wouldn’t tell me why you went.” 

“I had my IUD removed.” You murmur, eyes searching his for his immediate reaction. 

“You…what?” Max’s heart stalls as he draws back to get a better look at your face. 

This had been a topic of discussion between you two before, of course. Trying to decide if and when to start a family was a huge decision and both you and Max had decided that you wanted to start trying sooner rather than later ages ago but this? This was a complete surprise. 

You worry at your lip, wondering if you went too far without consulting him. “I had my doctor take out my IUD.” 

Something feral and animalistic snaps in Max at the thought of tonight being the night he finally puts a baby in you. If he had had his way, you’d be round with his baby ages ago but you had insisted on wanting to do it the ‘right’ way by waiting until after you had been married for a bit before even trying. “That is the best wedding present you could have ever gotten me, schat.” 

Relief washes over you in waves when his words register. “Yeah?” 

Max grabs at your hips, tugging  you closer to him before kissing you with an intensity that sends your head spinning.

“Now, turn over.” You do as he orders, a shiver of anticipation shooting up through your spine. “Ass up. Yeah, just like that baby. Ass in the air so I can fuck a baby deep into you.” He growls. 

If removing your IUD was all that it took to get Max to absolutely manhandle you like this, you would have gotten it removed sooner, you decide as he gives your bare ass a few short slaps while you wriggle back against him. Max pumps his aching cock with his hand a few times as you prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“You look so pretty like this, just waiting for me to take you from behind. You like this don’t you? Want me to fill you up, baby?” He leans forward, whispering the filthy words in your ear, causing you to whimper in response. 

You should be embarrassed by the needy, high pitched whine that tumbles from your throat when the tip of his cock finds your aching entrance, anticipation twisting deep in your stomach. Max latches onto your hips with both hands, letting out a guttural moan when he sinks into you, the slick wetness from your cunt practically swallowing him whole. “Fuck.” He shudders, fingertips digging bruises into your hips. 

For a few moments, Max has to steady himself or this entire thing is going to be over in 2 strokes. The blinding tightness of your pussy distracts him from all other sensation and thought as he focuses on how warm you are around him. You struggle against his size, the stretch from him filling you up burning in the most satisfying way possible. From his position behind you, Max is able to hit that spot deep inside your walls that sends all coherent thought out of your head. “Max.” You whine, wiggling your hips back and forth in a desperate plea for movement. “Max, please. Please fuck me.” 

“Fuck I love it when you beg for my cock.” He grunts while pulling out of you before thrusting deeper again. Max’s eyes drop down to where you’re joined together in the most intimate way and the sight he sees nearly sends him over the edge. “We look so good together, shatje. Look so good gripping me like that.” 

Max slides in and out of you, hands gripping your hips to control the pace as he settles into filling you up over and over. 

You pant beneath him, back arching up in sheer bliss as you push your ass back against him so he’s forced to plunge even deeper inside you. “God, you’re so deep Max. So big, filling me up.” 

“My wife likes being all messy for me, doesn’t she? Wants me to fuck a baby into her the first night we’re married, huh?” 

Just the thought of you walking around, belly swollen with his baby has Max’s hips snapping even quicker against you. For several moments the sounds of wet flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, interrupted only by your needy moans and Max’s grunts. He desperately ruts into you as he leans forward, draping his large frame over yours. Max wraps his fist around your long hair, creating a ponytail with his hands and yanks so hard your vision blurs from the delicious blur of pleasure colliding with pain. 

White hot heat pours down Max’s spine and he knows he’s not going to last much longer like this. The way your silky soft hair wraps around his calloused hands, the sounds that you’re making under him, the scent of your arousal wafting through the air, all of those sensations combine to create an overwhelming sensory overload. 

“Oh my God. Max. Cum in me, please.” You beg, sending your husband hurtling even closer the edge of his own release as he feels you spasm around him, velvet vice like grip clamping down on his cock. “Fuck a baby into me, please, Max.” You’re babbling now, a melty mess of need and desire to feel your husband’s cum dripping down your thigh. 

Something fractures in Max at how utterly fucked out you sound and everything goes white behind his shuttered eyes. The moan that rumbles through him sends you over the edge for a third time that night and you’re so exhausted and overstimulated having not nearly enough time to recover from the second one Max fucked you to. When he spills into you, the white hot ropes coating your walls, you let you the neediest whimpers of the night. The way he feels buried deep inside you combined with the open mouthed kisses he’s showering on your back and shoulders sends you off into an exhausted space that you hope you never return from. 

With Max done and still draped over you, body heavy on top of yours, your elbows finally give out and you collapse into the mattress, body sprawling beneath Max’s. Neither of you can move for several moments, the heat of what just happened has exhaustion seeping into your bones. 

The catastrophic emptiness that you feel when Max does pull out of you has you near tears it’s so unnerving. When you flip over, tired sighs falling from your lips, Max immediately pulls you into him, fingers dancing down between your legs. You jolt when he stuffs three of his fingers into your overly sensitive pussy. “Don’t want any of that to go to waste, now do we.” He chuckles as he buries his head in the crook of your neck. 

A sore sort of pleasant exhaustion takes over your body as you wriggle back against the warmth of your husband’s body. “I love you.” You sigh, eyes drooping heavily as Max reaches behind him to switch the bedside light off, plunging the entire bedroom into darkness. 

“I love you too, wife. Always.” Max’s response is the last thing you hear before drifting off into a deep fucked out sleep that has you passed out until late the next morning. 

tags: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @samantha-chicago @chlmtfilms

[pumpkinbxtch]

Can you plzz do a percy smut where he only rubs the readers clit bc the reader is too scared to finger herself, but then she gets the courage to finger herself and charles shows her how to do it??

confidence

— percy jackson x fem!reader

warnings; recommended for +18, smut and nsfw things happening.

tags; fingering, language, the reader is inexperienced, angst if you squint, A little dom!percy but he's really sweet a/n; so yeah, it had to being percy the first smut request ever, thanks it's the first time so please forgive me if i failed, lol. I will improve, I swear

"You're doing so well..." he murmured a few inches from your ear, sending a shiver down your spine that made you press even closer to his chest.

The room was filled only with the dim light of the setting sun and the sweet sounds Percy coaxed from you as his fingers massaged your clit under your already soaked panties. The constant movement of his fingertips on that sweet spot had you lifting your hips, seeking more, but he kept you in check, placing his free hand on your tummy and planting wet kisses on your neck.

"Such an impatient girl," your boyfriend whispered playfully, and you felt his smile on your cheek as he gathered your juices. That brief moment near your entrance made your pussy clench painfully around nothing, increasing your desperation. You squirmed on his lap, eliciting a growl from him due to the hard bulge pressing against your lower back. Yet, what you desired didn't happen.

"Uh, Percy... please."

The dark-haired man clicked his tongue repeatedly in disapproval and deliberately slowed his movements. Your whines became audible as you lifted your hips again, trying to find relief on your own. Instead, your boyfriend pressed you back against him, making you whimper softly.

"I know, I know," he said apologetically while nibbling on your ear, his own hips grinding against you, trying to alleviate some of the growing pain. Percy loved hearing you, especially when you seemed so needy. "But this is the only way, sweetheart..."

And you knew it. You knew what game you were playing, but your sensation-clouded mind was working against—or maybe for—you. It was something you wanted, and he was helping you with it, as you'd never been able to touch yourself more than superficially.

Percy's fingers brushed toward your entrance, and he chastely dipped his fingertips in. A moan began to form in your throat, and your heartbeat quickened.

"Please," you mewled pathetically, and he kissed your cheek warmly. Taking your hand, which had been clutching the sheets, he placed it on your pussy.

"If you want it so badly, you'll have to do it yourself, princess."

Those were the words you had hoped deep down would never be said, but you were so worked up you didn't know if you could resist trying. In a second, with his hand still guiding you, your fingers replaced Percy's, which had moved to your top to play with your breasts.

"Need some help, sweetheart?" he asked while tightening his grip on your hips. You nodded slightly, your heart about to burst.

"Words."

"Yes," you breathed.

Not long after his hips encouraged you to do so, your fingers finally entered, and stars filled your vision. It was the first time you could feel yourself, becoming a mess of moans and babbles as your boyfriend continued to touch you elsewhere, making the tension in your stomach grow, threatening to explode.

"Oh, now you know, huh?" Percy whispered in your ear, breathless, his eyes fixed on the spectacle you provided. "You know why I go crazy every time I'm inside you, because you're so damn tight."

At his words, it was inevitable that your walls clenched again, this time around your fingers, and you let out a loud moan that almost made your boyfriend come just from watching you. You whimpered and pumped your fingers, knowing you wouldn't last long with the new sensation. When you finally closed your eyes tightly, your body tensing completely, Percy knew you had succeeded.

He helped you handle the overwhelming emotion, hugging you tightly and whispering sweet things in your ear.

"That's right, Angel," he said before giving you another kiss on the cheek, your weight now almost entirely on his chest. "You just had to have a little confidence."

[sundew199]

Mornings

a/n: I'm at work and going insane, send help

tags: reiner x f!reader, oral sex(f!recieving), fingering

I cannot stop thinking about Reiner eating you out under the covers, fucking burying his face in your pussy and making you shake and cry. And right after he wakes in the morning too.

He'll turn over and grind up against you and softly kiss up and down your neck, asking you if you slept good, while letting his hands grope and grab at your tits. You'd still be a little groggy from just waking up and barely notice him climbing over you and fitting himself down between your legs, kissing up your inner thigh and nipping with his teeth.

You'd whine when he'd playfully kiss your clit softly, flick the tip of his tongue over it once and proceeding to part your slick folds with his thumb. Reiner would start slow, work his way into eating you out, until fully pressing his mouth to your slit and his nose bumping and nudging your clit.

He'd groan approvingly as you tug on his hair, push his face into your needy pussy, satisfied with the eagerness on your end. He loves your cunt and loves eating you out, it's like a fucking pass time for him.

All you'd feel is his plush lips sucking and pulling at your flesh, slurping up the arousal leaking from between your legs and his eyes looking up at you so hungrily that you're afraid he's about to quite literally devour you. You're so light weight and not even in this reality by the time he moved to sucking on your clit, teasing your entrance with his middle finger, already cumming once and approaching another.

"One more, please, just one more doll." He'd speak into your flesh, so muffled as he can't let go to properly request. You'd be arched on the bed, heel of your feet digging into his shoulder blades under the covers with tears rolling down your cheeks. Reiner is fucking insatiable when it comes to your pussy.

"Reiner, please I don't know it I can-"

Sentence cut off by the force of your body reaching your peak and cumming in his mouth a second time, all of your muscles contracting and releasing from the tension letting loose, but still throbbing as he softens his sucks and settle for gently kissing the sensitive bud.

"Always so good for me." Now sitting up and pushing two fingers inside, all because he's an over achiever and wants you in this bed with him all day, limp and motionless from his sinful acts.

Two thick fingers flutter and pump out of your entrance, his tongue swirling in time on your clit and a smirk so evil curling into his lips. He loves you like this, craves it, and worships you when he gets you to this point.

Reiner is man of knowing what he wants, and this, this gets him harder than anything else. And when you finally cum for a third time, he's groaning and thinking about sinking his painfully hard cock right in and fucking you till you're leaking nothing but his cum.

[he-calls-me-kitten]

Recently got busy and haven't had time to be around at all .. I just skimmed through whatever I have missed while I was away and I realized how badly I missed your writing style... It's just so ue2ge8eh27db❤️❤️⁉️⁉️ I can't really explain it.. its scrumptious, very very yummy... So I come with a little request... We know the obey men are quite and as a short girlie that's just like so fucking attractive like?????????? Sirrrr???? 😖😖

Imaginee... getting picked up by them and quite literally hanging off their cock as they just dangle you in the air, your feet not touching the ground as they just fuck yiu silly, watching your writhe and sob as their cock leaves a bulge on your stomach as you claw at their arms. They don't even gotta be trying, your just go dumb on their cock, crying how it's too big and having them bully themselves in you...

Basically that prompt with barbatos, Simeon and beel

I'm a very horny Tumblr user as you can tell LMAO

Love you though, take rests, eat, drink, stay healthy, darling. Mwah 💋

-M. 🪭🪷

Oh my god look who's back?!!! Hey M!!! Missed you loads, hopefully life eases up on you, busy little thing! Thank you for checking in, it means the world ❤️

And your ideas...just *chef's kiss*. Here's another treat for the short AFAB folks with size kink out there!!!

Little Body Big Heat

Afab! MC x Barbatos, Simeon, Beelzebub

Barbatos mock apologizes as you pant and plead him to stop. But he's barely even doing anything really. All he's doing is just standing there, carrying you in his arms, holding you so close.

You're the one struggling and twitching to take him in more or push him out. The way you are writhing - he genuinely cannot tell but he sure is enjoying the show.

"MC, use your words, won't you? I'm sorry I can't understand you when you're like this, my love." He coos, brushing hair away from your face.

"Mhhmm- B-Barb please.... please it's too much. Please ....just... help me move..." You struggled to string a sentence together.

And he finally the gracious butler takes pity on you. You're asking so nicely after all.

"Is this better?" He moves so painfully slow, you whine into his ears. "Oh? Would you like me to be... faster?" He kisses your neck, feeling the vibrations of your delightful complains, which soon would turn into delightful screams. And he wants everyone to hear them too.

Simeon's angelic side simply ceases to exist when it comes to his desire for you. Honestly what were you thinking falling asleep, sitting on his lap. Don't you know he already has a hard time behaving himself around you?

"Did you have a good sleep, MC?" He threads his fingers through your hair, pulling you closer for a kiss. "As you can see...I've run into quite the problem. I can't go home to Luke while I'm like this now, can I?"

You take some time to come to your senses. After all, it's not every day you wake up with Simeon's erection between your legs.

"Would you like to use me...to calm it down?" You gingerly try to hold him down there, it took both of your hands yet he was still much too big for you. He made a low groan at the contact.

"Really, you wouldn't mind?" He asks even as his fingers are already touching your waist, slowly pulling off your top.

"Your sense of duty is really admirable, MC." He chuckles as he pulls off your shorts, now undoing his own pants. "Now then, where would you like me?"

"You...can choose." You let him feast on you with his eyes and hands, enciting soft whimpers and moans. His fingers delight at the wetness pooled between your legs, toying with you before pressing his erection against your puffy clit.

He pushes into your hole, stretching you out but before you can't even let out a sound. His tongue is inside your mouth devouring your screams. You've taken him in so well. He can feel himself bulge out your stomach. "Does that feel good, my little lamb?"

You nod even tears collect at the corner of your eyes. "So good..so... full... It's toobiigg... you'resooo big S-Simeon... please..." Oh how he loves doing this to you.

Beelzebub's length is only the second most dangerous thing about him. The first is his stamina. You realise this now as you have been pressed against his lockers for what feels like hours. Your feet haven't touched the ground in so long.

"Beel...a-are you still.. not done..." You watched him pant, looking at you with a frenzied look in his eyes. When you told him you'd help him get his mind off food, this is not how he thought it would go.

"Beel! I-I know you're really famished ..but ...but you can't... keep...doing this...ahhhmn..mnhn Beel I'm about to...cum again...stop please..." He kept sucking your slick up, right through your orgasm. Talk about overstimulation.

He already tormented you with his tongue down there till you were leaking through your underwear. And now that he was too aroused to calm down, you simply had to let him fuck you. "Just...one last time, MC. I promise."

Yeah sure. He said that two rounds ago. Seriously you wondered how you had not passed out yet. But then again, everytime he moved - you swear he kept discovering a new pleasure point inside you.

"MC your face right now...you look so cute...I'm sorry I couldn't stop myself...and you feel so warm..." He plunged in and out of you again, bouncing you on his dick effortlessly. Of course he hasn't thought about food, he's been too busy devouring you.

[whiskeyskin]

Slow Down

Premise: Astarion discovers that disgustingly quick efficiency at sex, isn't always how everyone wants to enjoy it.

• Astarion x gn!Tav • M rating •

Astarion POV, gn!Tav, doggy, riding, slowing down, enjoyment, bloodplay/bloodlust, feral need, no mention of specific gentials.

2.7k words

Another blinder by @casualya 😙👌 you bless us daily with scrumptious pictures!

•°•°•

Astarion pumelled inside Tav, relentless and frenetic. The energetic pace and precise angle perfected over 200 years. A hand pressed down on the small of their back, the other pulling back on their hip.

This was his favourite position. Turned away; it was easier when they were turned away.

No eye contact. Less need for his practiced veneer. He could just 'get on with it' and be done quickly.

He could also pretend to 'clean himself off' while they were recovering from the earth shattering orgasm he'd just gave them. Keep up the charade till the end.

Their moans were rough, throaty and tense.

"You feel so good, darling." He parroted his old lines, "I want to come darling but I want you to come with me. Are you close for me?"

"Mm, not really." Tav admitted, an awkward tenseness in their voice. Astarion's thrust stuttered slightly, but continued.

He was ever a professional.

He blinked several times, furrowing his brow, "Do we need to change positions, love? I need to feel you come on my cock." He moaned through a bitten lip, slowing his pace.

Tav gave a pleasurable gasp, "Yes, please. It feels good, it's just-I find it difficult to come like this."

Astarion rolled his eyes behind their back, "Then we have to remedy that. Tonight is for out collective ecstasy, remember?" He crooned, gently extracting himself from inside them.

Irritated, Astarion pasted on his flawless veneer and recused himself from the situation, while his body piloted automatically.

Dissociating for him was like meditation, there were no thoughts. Nothingness. A great expanse of blackness and there he cocooned himself. Safe and removed inside.

His body had learned to respond to the stimuli around him, without needing him to be present.

Of course, some part of him was still present but not any part that mattered. No part that he hadn't painfully trained himself to repress and ignore.

There he waited for it to be over, in his safe pocket of void. Soundless. Wordless. Guiltless.

Of course this time would be different to his usual seductions. He would have to keep up a constant charade.

At the Palace, after the act, the unlucky target would be taken away; to what they expected to be a bath, that would never come. However, if Cazador was feeling particularly cruel, he'd wrench them out, kicking and screaming before it was finished.

A foul part of him was grateful for it. That he didn't have to finish. That he didn't have to listen to their admissions of love, or satisfaction. Just their horrified screams, as a terrifying Vampire Lord threw them naked from the bed and dragged them behind him towards his study.

He would cower silently and stone-faced, as their blood-curdling howls would fade down the hallway, until the heavy doors shut. Even then his Vampiric hearing would pick up the sounds of panic and violence.

They'd beg him, plead with him, scream at him to help them, save them, intervene.. do something. But he never did. He never would. Never could. Not again.

Suddenly, an unexpected lurching motion tipped him over with a thud. Coming back to true consciousness, he blinked heavily as he realised he was splayed back on the forest floor.

Tav was holding his forearms over his head, "Told you I could." They smirked, slightly breathless.

"So you did. I'm impressed." Astarion replied, not missing a beat.

"I asked you to slow down, you didn't listen. So now, we're going to do this my way. So, you're going to lay back like a good pup and enjoy yourself. Got it?" There was assertiveness but amusement in their tone as they released his arms to reach between their bodies.

"I don't really think I have a choice." He tried to keep his voice steady but there was a wobble; he could hear it.

"Oh, don't worry your pretty little head, Astarion," he felt the tightness of their walls envelope him again, "Ahh.. it's our collective ecstasy, right?" They licked their bottom lip and placed their hands on his chest.

Astarion didn't answer. This was one of his least favourite positions.

He always felt exposed underneath someone face-to-face. Being giver, or receiver, it felt like he was close to scrutiny like this.

Still. In order to gain their trust further, and assure protection from Cazador - either by human shield, or sword - this was what he had to endure.

Tav began to rock on him, an easy, drawn out pace. Not at all like his urgent trists. He preferred a fast approach. To make them come as soon as possible. He had it down to a fine art but there were always outliers to any experiment.

Astarion grabbed their hips and tried to buck up but he was quickly thwarted.

"Uh-uh, not happening. We're going to slow down, and build this up nicely. Sex isn't about making people come quickly, it's about the journey together."

Tav placed their hands over Astarion's and slid them higher, to hold their waist. They rode him at what felt like a snail's pace, their hips fluidly rolling. Astarion resisted the urge to roll his eyes again.

They took him from tip, to bottomed out tortuously slowly. And while it did feel good, it wasn't going to end soon.

Astarion huffed out in frustration but disguised it with contentment and lust.

Dissociation was peering over his shoulder, inviting him to step away and let it take the reigns.

"Ah, darling. That feels wonderful. Riding me like that."

"Sweet one, this isn't riding. This is the introduction, the prologue, the handshake. I know you're used to it fast, but just bare with me. Just enjoy the sensation."

He squeezed their waist and sighed, "Alright, I'll bite. Well, again." He smirked with an eyebrow flex to himself.

"Mm, that did feel good. Bet it tasted better."

"It did," Astarion relented, "You are rather delicious."

"Better than the bear that got you drunk?"

"Yes, you taste far sweeter than a bear. Satisfied?" He teased, thrusting upwards to meet them. The corners of his vision began to settle and fuzz.

"Slowly." Tav breathed, using their hips to control his speed, "Tell me what I taste like."

His vision cleared and he blinked.

What a question.

One that pulled him back from the edge of nothingness, back to Tav's face above him.

What did they taste like?

It wasn't something he recognised. It wasn't a flavour, it was almost a feeling.

"You taste so sweet, darling. Like honeyed fruits." He placated, keening for good measure.

"The way you suck on my neck doesn't say that. What do I really taste like?"

His face twitched, "I don't know if I could put it into words." He lied, pinching his lips in frustration. At both the questions and the intrusion into his coping mechanism.

"Try."

He couldn't contain his eye roll this time but played off as teasing, "Um, you taste amazing. Like nothing I've ever tasted before."

Tav remained silent, still rocking themselves on his cock. Astarion felt compelled to continue.

"You taste like.. rich wine and sweet fruits.. like summer berries fresh from the bushel, like warm days by the riverside, like splashing in the cool water." He began, unsure where it would go.

Tav's pace increased slightly, harder pressure pushing him into the ground.

"Good man, that's better. What else do I taste like?" Their hands wandered his chest as they moved on him, languid strokes from root to tip.

Something akin to a shooting sensation buzzed from his pelvis. It was unfamiliar, but not unknown.

Enjoyment.

He allowed himself to indulge in their question, "You taste like sunshine and freedom, like the moment before lightning hits," jolts of electricity zappped to his tightening groin, "Your blood tastes like everything I miss from my mortal life, it's like the smell of warm rain quenching dry earth. The feeling of purest limitlessness."

The words left his mind and flew through his mouth before he had time to comprehend how foolish it sounded. But Gods, every word was true. Feeding freely on Thinking blood was a rush that had no competition. But feeding from Tav, was something else entirely.

Tav began bouncing, rippling their spine and hips to pound against him. Bringing a hand to play with themselves illiciting a soft whine.

They looked at him through a hot stare, pinning him to the floor, then looked down to their bodies. Astarion followed their gaze.

If he had breath to steal, it would have been willingly surrendered. Seeing their meeting, the sight of his pale cock, covered in slick, disappearing inside them. Their hand teasing their own release, the other pressed low against is abdomen.

Their soft flesh bounced against the momentum of their riding, he could feel the jiggle beneath his hands.

"When you feed on me it feels like dancing with adrenaline itself. My whole body feels alive but numb at the same time. I can feel you, can feel my blood pumping through your body. I can feel me within you, surrendering to you," Astarion's grip tightened, pressing bruises into their rolling hips.

"You could drain me dry, and leave me for dead and I'd still beg you for one more bite. To feel like that again. It's worth a little death." They smiled coyly down at him, tracing their fingertips against his lips, parting them to reveal his fangs.

Astarion about choked on his own saliva, through a wanton gasp.

A devilish glint sparked in their eye, as they tested the sharpness on the pad of their index finger. They gave a short gasp of pain as it punctured their skin.

Astarion's tongue instinctively flicked against the small rivulets of blood out of desperation. The taste of blood, combined with the pleasure of sex, unlocked some feral part of him that had been dormant for an age.

Groaning and baring his teeth, he slid a possessive hand up their sternum, and felt their heart hammering through their chest. He suckled on the tip of their finger as they rode him but it wasn't enough.

The thought of their hot, sweet, delicious blood pumping through their body. Blood that engorged their swollen sex. Blood that would sustain him, nourish him, make him feel happiness. A happiness he had barely been able to explain since their first feed.

Tav laid their other hand on top of his, "Can you feel how hard my heart's beating? How much I want this? How much I want you, Astarion?" They keened, as their eyes met in passionate gaze.

A noise that didn't quite come from the sane part of his mind erupted from his chest as he felt Tav squeeze his cock with their inner walls.

Astarion desperately gripped their hips and tried to wrap one arm around their body.

"More.. more." He moaned, roughly.

"Blood, or sex."

"Both." He spluttered, frantically clawing at them, sitting up to re-arrange the pose, "Both!"

"Yes, yes." They uttered, breathless.

Pressed body to body, buried deep inside, Astarion sank his fangs into the slope of their chest.

Hot, delicious blood spurted into his mouth, coating his tongue and throat, as he took long pulls and swallowed them down.

The sensation was overwhelming, their life force rushing around his undead body, their walls squeezed tightly around him. He could feel the ministrations of their hand stimulating their release between their slicked bodies.

Tav gasped and moaned against his ear, which they gently nipped and licked on.

Astarion's eyes rolled back into his head, as his jaw tightened, biting harder. He was paralyzed with an overabundance of pleasure, rendering him inert as Tav shot out a cry and continued bouncing down on his cock.

Their pace became erratic, breath hitching as they gasped against the cool night air. Rabid cries of ecstasy echoed through the night as Tav's orgasm hit them.

Small, tense noises roughly eeked from his throat, as a sudden tightening gripped what was left of his soul like a vice, before a violent torrent of orgasmic energy flooded through him. His head jerked back, blood dripping down his chin. Chest hollowing, his eyes found Tav's, connecting them in the moment at the centre of the storm.

The world stilled for the briefest of moments, filled with the warmth of their gaze.

A cry of rapture died in his crimson coated throat and he came inside them, painting their walls with his seed. Tav bottomed out as he filled them to the brim with his cum, rocking their hips against him, over and over, coaxing every last drop.

"Agh, stop please.. mercy." He whined, as his head hit their shoulder, wrung dry from overstimulation.

He still smelled their blood from where he'd not shown enough care, in his hedonistic state, to stem the flow. He thought to cover it with his hand, but Tav had beaten him to it, still holding him upright with the other.

They softly leaned forward to lay him back down on the bedroll, in which he thunked back, gracelessly.

Half-hard and still inside them, his head swimming with the afterglow of his unexpected orgasm, Astarion tried to descend back to Faerûn.

Tav's blood was pumping through his ears, the loud whooshing noise drowning out the insect nightlife that crowded this part of the woods.

A quick kiss touched the tip of his nose, then he felt Tav extracte themself off him and lay beside him. The cold night air now stark and unwelcome, when compared to their warmth.

"Now that was collective ecstasy." Tav said finally, with a wearied but playful lilt.

"Mhm." He replied, unable to apply his brain back into conversation. He heard them moving around to grab a cloth for their puncture marks and a little clean up.

Several moments passed him by, staring up into the darkened starlit sky. He felt he was still up there, in the Astral, after the viciousness of cumming that hard - and after so long.

A pair of soft lips traced over his shoulder, peppering the area with kisses, and for the first time in over two decades; he didn't feel the urge to flinch.

"Are you still with us, Astarion?"

He shook his head, "Unfortunately not."

"Oh, dear."

"I'm quite unavailable for conversation at this moment in time."

Tav giggled softly, "Was it the combination of feeding and ear fondling that tipped the scales for you there? I know you were rolling your eyes when I slowed the pace down. I'd heard ear stimulation was part of Elven foreplay, I thought it would add a little something for you." Tav discarded the bloodied cloth, to join the one stained with cum and rolled onto their side to face him.

"It did." He nodded, angling his face to them. He found his new marks on their skin, they were a lot more vicious than those he'd made on their neck, evidence of his animalistic need. "It's never quite felt like that." He admitted, feeling a little sheepish.

"I told you. It's the journey that gets you to the destination." Tav smiled down at him, leaning on one hand, the other resting on his chest.

"That you did." Astarion felt embarrassment creeping up the sides of his neck and flushing his cheeks, as he felt the true gravity of how low he'd left his defences.

"Astarion, are you blushing?" Tav tucked their chin in, shocked.

He turned the corners of his mouth down in disgust, "Of course not! Vampire's don't blush. We don't have any blood." He pointed out.

"Well, you do right now and that's definitely a rosy tinge in your cheeks." They teased, rubbing their nose against the aforementioned red cheeks.

Astarion flinched away, "Stop." He snapped, frowning.

Tav held up their palm, "Alright, I'm sorry. You're not blushing, it's just a trick of the light. Astarion, the Rakeish Vampire-Spawn, does not blush."

"Certainly not, perish the thought. You're delirious with the after effects. The lack of blood has gone to your head." He pouted vehemently, recoiling from the thought he'd actually enjoyed himself.

Enjoyed the sex he'd used them for, that it hadn't been anything more than what it needed to be; a tool in his arsenal of manipulations.

Blushing? He was blushing?! Gods below.

"And the missing blood has gone straight to yours." They teased.

Astarion glared at them but only half meant it. He was still too happy to be miserable. But he had no doubt that the ravages of self-loathing and despair wouldn't give him restbite for long. He may as well enjoy the feeling while it lasted.

"I can promise you, that blood is headed only one place and intends to make you scream like that at least another twice before morning. Especially now I know exactly how you like it," He moaned, pushing them over effortlessly, "This journey isn't over yet, darling."

•°•°•

[gothghostiie]

replaying some of mwii and price saying "slow and steady" has given me price teaching babysitter!reader how to suck cock brain worms

cw: oral/handjob (reader giving), Virgin/inexperienced! reader, implied age gap, facial, corruption kink if you squint, gn!reader

you're so fucking inexperienced, it almost makes him feel bad for getting as hard as he does when you look at him with those pretty eyes. you look at him with trust and admiration, his baby on your hip making it even worse. he wants to grab you, kiss you, manhandle you, fucking hell, if he could he'd press you face down into his pillow and take your innocence right then and there. but he had to go to some spontaneous meeting, he had to fucking leave you. he stays strong, smiling at you and ruffling your hair as he leaves. "behave, yea? both of ya." he says with a wink, your giggle making his cock twitch.

once in the car and on the road he's really debating jacking off so he doesn't have to go into the meeting with a boner, maybe it would even help him later so he doesn't get painfully hard the moment you say hi to him when he's back. he ultimately decides against it, he's a grown man for fucks sake, he needs to control himself. so he goes through the meeting, it gives him some distraction, at least until he's back in the car. it's already dark when he's coming back, quietly unlocking the door. he prays you're asleep so he can just put a blanket over you and let you sleep, but you're awake. you smile brightly as he comes in, a soft "hi Mr. Price!" coming from your lips.

"John." he corrects in a stern but gentle voice, taking off his jacket, it makes you chuckle.

"I'm sorry, John." you say in a teasing tone, sometimes he wonders if you really are this innocent or if you just act like it. but god, if he wasnt as stressed as he was from the god damn meeting his cock would already be hard again. he just sighs and drops on the couch next to you, head fallen back and body slack. you tilt your head with a frown. "whats wrong?" the words make his heart flutter.

"just stressed, is all. dont worry your little head, love." he murmurs, reaching out to gently pat you on the head. you hum a bit.

"is there anything i can do to help you relax?" you ask, his mind immediately down the gutter. he suddenly wants to tell you all the nasty things he wants to do to you, shove your face into his crotch to make you nuzzle his cock, but he just stares at the ceiling for what feels like hours before looking at you. he opens his mouth to speak, but the look on your face makes him stop. your eyes are wide and glued to the bulge in his jeans, your mouth hanging open. his cheeks turn pink in embarrassment, he fumbles with his words.

"bloody hell - fuck, 'm sorry, I-" he pauses as he looks at your face properly. the shock isnt mixed with disgust as he initially thought, oh no. it's the opposite. you look curious, almost intrigued. he holds his breath as you make eye contact, then asks quietly. "do you want to help?" he asks, voice low and husky, filled with anticipation and a bit of fear of rejection. "you don't have to, if you don't wanna." he says gently, making sure you don't feel forced.

"i.. I never.. did anything.." is all you can get out, voice tinged with embarrassment. despite already being very sure you're a Virgin he's still mildly surprised to hear you say it, eyebrows raising a bit.

"I can teach ya. if you want." you hesitate for just a second before nodding, his heart skips a beat.

"okay.." you say softly. he has to take a moment before he nods softly, hands going to his belt and trying to not just rip it open.

"I'll just show you, so you can get familiar with him, yea? if you wanna stop at any point you tell me. understood?" his tone is serious, he waits until you nod before letting his fat cock spring free, slipping his pants and underwear down just enough so you see his heavy balls. your face heats up, mouth dropping open again as you stare at it, the tight balls, the angry, red tip, all have been begging for release for hours, and finally they'll get it. he waits until you seem a bit more composed before reaching his hand to you. "gimme your hand darling." he orders gently, you put your hand into his. your skin feels like heaven under his calloused fingers, even better as he wraps it around his trembling cock. he groans, squeezing your hand as he holds it in place; your fingers can't even fully wrap around it. it twitches eagerly, tip weeping as he guides your hand up and down slowly. low moans escape his lips, eyes lidded as he holds back. "you okay bird?" he pants, his voice a bit more rough than usual.

you nod, your trembling hand slowly moving at your own pace, watching intently. it makes him chuckle, letting go of your hand and putting it on your head, petting you as a silent praise. "doin well, love. keep going for me, yea?" he murmurs, you nod again. his tip starts leaking precum, you bite your lip. "don't do that. your lips are so pretty darlin." he frowns, his own words burning the image of your lips wrapped around his dick into his brain. he hesitates before speaking again.

"want to try sucking it?" he asks gently, your eyes widen. you hesitate again, his hand cups your cheek softly. "don't worry. I'll help ya."

"..okay." you say, taking a breath. his hand slides to the back of your head, guiding you closer - kissing your forehead before guiding you down.

"open your mouth nice and wide. watch your teeth." you open up wide, tongue sticking out a bit, he guides you down just so the tip is in your mouth. "wrap your lips around it." you follow his order and he groans, straining to not cum right this second. he takes a breath before speaking again. "now suck a bit. start gently and slowly do more. run your tongue over it too." he instructs in a soft murmur. "it might taste a little funny." you suck softly and lick the tip, making a face and pulling back. he laughs, patting your head softly. "I warned you darling. that bad?" he grins as you lick your lips.

"no... just.. surprised me.." you admit in embarrassment, taking a deep breath before dipping your head and trying again. this time you don't pull back, John's hand rests on the back of your head as he breaths heavily.

"good job, sweetheart... thinking you can try bobbing ya head a bit?" his jaw is slack, eyes rolled back when you actually do it - way too fast and too deep for your first time. as much as he loves the feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat, the immediate gag and your face scrunching up in discomfort break his heart. he grabs your head firmly but not roughly, pulling your head up just enough to make you look at him. "don't do that. who taught you that?" he asks sternly, you shrink a bit under his gaze.

he hums. "try again. do it slow and steady." he says lowly, the tone making you shiver. you nod softly, letting him push you down much, much slower, letting him guide your head as your lips wrap around his cock again. "there we go. just like that, bird." he groans, already closer than he wants to be. he slowly guides it deeper into your warm mouth, your adorable attempts at using your tongue making his tip leak again. it doesn't take long before his hips stutter. "fuck... gonna cum, angel..- " he grunts, voice strained as he pulls you back, free hand wrapping around the base of his cock to steady himself as he cums all over your face. you gasp loudly, eyes shut tied and mouth open in shock as the warm, sticky liquid hits your skin. his moans quickly turn into chuckle as he sees the state of you. "aw, sweetheart, are you alright?" he cackles, shaking his head.

still chuckling he reaches to the coffee table and grabs a tissue, wiping your face off quickly before pulling you to his chest, kissing your head. "there you are, good job darlin. you okay?" he asks again, rubbing your back as you nod. "good... I'll get you a cup of water."

───── ⋆⋅Taglist⋅⋆ ─────

@captainchrisstan @maplewhisk

[cryptfile]

Ꮺ˖˚₊ leeches, [ logan howlett x vampire!reader au ]

summary — logan howlett lacks of patience (and he can also be a nice little blood-bag while losing his temper). 8k+

warnings — 18+ mdni, fem!reader implied, blood kink (keep in mind you’re a vampire! not twilight but more of a true blood kind?) downright filth im sorry, dead dove do not eat, smoker!reader, endless tension, manhandling, praise kink, kind of porn without plot (LIES CAUSE IT HAS ONE THO??) my boy's into paaaaaain can't help it it's canon, age-gap at first (reader is her 20's but again, vampire), public sex (it just happened), daily reminder to wrap it before you tap it, p in v, choking, filthy mouth, pet names.

side notes — thought this could take place after days of the future past? au cause why nottttt ,,currently on ovulation season so bare with me,,, been a little mia cause i’m surviving aka going through the worst semester of my life at uni? internships are breaking my ass currently so well, here i am just existing, also, english’s not my first language and everyday i’m grateful for it, so any mistakes i’m not sorry in advance lol i’m also too lazy to correct once published,, feel free to send more logan requests since i've basically been a slut for him for a while now (i'm rotting in hell).

He could swear the mansion got ten degrees hotter when you came in.

It’s inevitable. It’s this thing you carry, the way you move — Graceful, elegant, almost compelling as the air fills the room. It’s not public knowledge that you’re not a mutant itself, yet you’re presented like one, like you have healing factors and age painfully slow, but human after all, a subtle lie, one that can harm no one.

It’s safe to say you catch his attention in the most annoying way: How couldn’t you? All you do is this weird seduction he’s appealed to, whether you’re conscious or not it’s just captivating, an invisible force that even when you ignore it is there, there waiting for the perfect moment to flood every time you happen to be in the same room.

Captivating. That’s the word.

The room becomes smaller after, the air grows thicker, and it’s almost like a ticking bomb, the way you wouldn’t even look at his face while he’s noticeable pinning after Jean Grey, the mystery that surrounds you and he cannot seem to resolve no matter how much time he puts into it.

It’s like he's the plague. You don’t really try to exchange more than just a few words, only when it's needed and you cannot avoid him any longer, and he didn’t say anything at first, keeping his distance too cause he don’t see how you’d become friends, cause after all, what he could have in common with a girl that doesn't surpass the twenty years?

But soon he's upset about it, even when he doesn't really say anything out loud, it's a spike he cannot reach under his skin. You seem to become friends with anyone but him, mutant kids in your history lessons, the rest of the team, even the damn mailman when he delivered a package — You'd say hello like it's a long time lover or so, greeting people like they mean the world to you.

He has students now that are asking for a transfer from his class to yours cause it seems you're fun to be around, more like he is, and he fucking hates it.

It's fair to say it's been getting into his mind lately. That thing you do with your hair, twisting it in your index finger on a lock as you speak, the subtle red glow in your eyes he always catches by mistake, not enough fast to stop looking at you, pretending he didn't even see in your direction at first.

Tension. Logan just happens to hate tension.

In fact. He's almost sure your problem is personal, that you might hate him enough to act like he didn't exist at all, enough to avoid him like he was not there.

That's why it's just so weird.

When he finds himself walking down the hallway to the kitchen and he smells this cherry-scented aroma that settles under his nostrils, he changes the direction he's walking to, to instead, follow the path to the person that was silently smoking outside. Hiding. Maybe, a student he'll have to scold like the old man he was turning into.

No smoking in the mansion!

However, as the night is just settling, he doesn't recognize a little mutant, but instead happens to recognize you in the middle of the gardens of the mansion, close to the maze; escaping the comfort of the inside to enjoy a self-rolled cherry tobacco he has smelled before in the air. He's a victim mostly, cause his legs move on it's own as his mouth go dry, approaching you in silence.

"What do you want?" you ask when he's halfway there. And your tone is just cold as ever, not an ounce of feeling as he contemplates your side profile, the way the tobacco sticks out of your parted lips, seated on a bench hidden between bushes and trees — "Is Scott bitching about the smell going into the mansion already?"

No. He's not. But he doesn't have enough reasons to explain exactly why he's outside if you asked, why, all of sudden, he followed the scent of cherry knowing it was you the only one who carried a colts package in the pocket of every single jacket you wore, constantly asking Storm if she could hold on to the bag of filters for you while you rolled in the worst moments.

It's distracting, to say the least.

"Yeah," he quickly says, lying cause in reality he hasn't seen the guy in the whole day, yet it sounds like something he would say. "Do you happen to have another one of those to share?"

You don't talk much, hand reaching his as you offered him from your tobacco without a single word, the same that was placed between your lips and now was on his in what seemed to be something more intimate than what he'd like to admit, the cherry taste filling his lungs as they weirdly enough, shared a cig.

"Aren't you too young to be smoking?"

You laugh, and the sound sends a shiver down his spine cause he has never heard a sound quite like it, nothing that resembles that throaty, raspy sound that came out of your lips in amusement thanks to his words. He, out of all people, has never seen you like that — "And how old you think I am?"

He seems to think about it for a second, carefully picking his next words. Logan knows that women and their age are a tricky thing, you cannot say a number that's too compromising, nor act stupid and say something that's clearly not correct — "Not a day over twenty-two."

The answer pleases you, and he just knows he's wrong, but you don't seem bothered by it, instead, you nod pretending he's right, like he just got the answer right away.

He can see why everyone's switching classes now. Cheeky bastards.

"Twenty-two is not young at all, but i'm twenty-seven though," you say, and he scoffs at the statement, seeking for any change in your heartbeat, any sign of a lie. The strange thing happens when he cannot pick any heart at all, any sign of pulse.

"You are pretty young still," he says, against his age, you’re just starting out living—. "You don't look like you are twenty-seven at all."

"Cause I age slower than the rest," it's a practiced lie. One you know from repeating the same explanation over and over again, the priced answer of why you haven't changed a single bit in the past few years and made you a mutant — "I never looked my age."

Such a fucking liar. He doesn't need any heartbeats to confirm it cause deep down you are a terrible actress, he can see it so clear, how you're calculating every answer, thinking about the correct thing to say, the normal thing to say.

"Is that your thing?" he asks, playing pretend almost as bad as you do. Tilting his head to the side as he questions you — "Age slowly?"

"I have healing powers," you explain as he tossed you the joint once again. "My saliva kinds of help healing wounds. It's pretty boring."

"Boring" Logan repeats. The word itself sounds so damn fun in your lips it's contradicting. "That doesn’t sound really boring."

There's a moment of silence after that. Where you smoke in silence taking in the taste of the cherry, and he is having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that your lips also touched the side of the cigar he was smoking before, the plain lies you've been repeating over and over the last ten minutes.

It's almost infuriating. Makes his blood boil without question, he surely endures your treatment of silence, but being lied to? That's a whole different level.

“How old are you, kid?”

Your brows furrow in response, a clueless face. You are pulling out this show once again Logan don’t buy for a damn second. Something about the scrunch in your nose, the way you dismissed your own powers as if they weren’t enough. He knows it’s all a lie. He knows it even when he doesn’t really know you at all, when it’s the first time you’re truly speaking to him after your arrival to the mansion almost a year ago.

“How old you really are?”

You laugh at the question once again, and he just knows it, knows it when he sees you barely illuminated by the dim light of the moon, the act you always keep up, a web of tangled lies you have to be into— “Told you i'm twenty-seven already, didn't you hear?”

“Is it now?” he asks, amused by the sass, exhaling the smoke of the low-quality tobacco he doesn't understand why you're so invested in when passed it to him—. “Cause you don’t seem very convinced, it really sounds like bullshit to me.”

You're almost offended. By the look you give it's like the worst mistake he could ever make, yet you remain silent, not giving the satisfaction of an honest answer yet. Testing his patience like he did have one to begin with.

"Is that why I can’t hear your heartbeats, darlin'? Cause you age so slowly?”

The nickname scratches a part of your brain, and you hate him for it. The word rolls out of his tongue with an accent, smoking your cherry tobacco cause you happen to be nice.

“You can’t?” you’re good at faking it suddenly, at least, that's what he thinks when your brows furrow in alleged curiosity, stiffening your back, uncomfortable. “How weird.”

“Damn right it is” that's when you realize he knows you are lying. Even when you don’t talk much, even when you act all stiff and bothered when he’s close, he knows that you are fully invested in lying. In whatever twisted little lie you've planned, like it was your real life and not something you made up. “Are you going to tell me truth, then or do I have to find out? Does the professor know that you're lying?”

The smoke lingers in the air.

“How old are you?” he asks once again, demanding an honest answer this time — "Thirty? Thirty-five?"

You find his questions annoying, mostly cause he won't stop until he gets an answer, one that pleases him enough to leave you alone, the other part cause you happen to like the playful banter you two keep going, dangerously much. You don't hate attention it's clear, what you do hate it's the way he seemed to see pass the lie, to demand more even when he has no right to.

He enjoys being the one who's right though, Logan cannot help it. He's pleased to catch that look on your face who says everything but nothing at once, to have you where he wanted, almost at the edge of admitting a truth.

Is it payback because you've been stealing all of the little mutants from his class? He's jealous cause kids like being around you? It does not make much sense, but he is fully invested. Questioning all.

Even when you're outside, it seems like the air grows thicker. And Logan finds himself seeking for your breathing, cause he don't know nothing, nothing about you more than the fact you don't seem to have a heartbeat, or pulse and now, breathing.

“If you really are that eager to know, i'm a hundred and twenty-seven” the words float in the air for a while, and he's sure you're just messing with him, cause there's no way a pretty little face like yours had endured a century. “I've been alive for quite a while.”

He doesn't fully believe it first. Of course he doesn't. Logan's sure you're messing with him also, distracting him about your real age.

“And I supposed this do come from you slow aging powers” He tries to give you a point there, but it's difficult to be serious when you're just playing with him—. "How so?"

To be honest, you do have a little temper yourself, you've learned to stand up for yourself most of the time, so when you happen to notice he's teasing you, that he doesn't really believe you, you adopt this attitude of defense he notices as you shift over the wood you're seated in.

"No, it doesn't" you steal the joint from his hands to have a smoke yourself. "You really aren't as smart as I thought you were, huh?"

Do you happen to have a dead wish? His muscles tense beneath his shirt, and in contrast of his problem, you can hear it all. All the sounds his body makes when he's all bothered just by the beat of his heart, that annoying sound his bones make each time he moves.

"What are you?"

"That's it," the praising goes directly into his chest, the tone you use to tell him he's going in the right direction it feels just so right he forgets why he got mad in the first place—. "That's what you should be asking right there."

It's almost a shame having to admit he would also switch classes. That he would also go through all the paperwork himself without a second thought and that right there, is pathetic, but you're smiling at him as if you're encouraging the man to try harder, to find the answer himself, and fuck — He's old, too old, he's tired, he's in a bad mood as fucking usual, and he happens to dig a drink in the quiet of his own room, but he's pulled by something as equal as devastating as the gravity force, shoot towards you in pure need to have some answers even if he has to make you spit them.

"I find it strange, cause when you don't have a heartbeat, you aren't usually alive" Deep down he's fascinated, hazel eyes glues on your face trying to understand. He feels like he has it in the tip of his tongue waiting to leave his mouth as a catastrophic answer, but he doesn't find the right words.

"That's cause i'm not," you state it like it's something obvious. And just as he knows you're lying, this time, he knows you're telling the truth, blowing the smoke in his direction just to bother him — "Why do you think i'm teaching history after all huh?"

He hasn't seen it all, it seems.

Yeah.

He's losing it after that night.

It’s known that Logan has sleeping problems, but that night specifically he thinks about something else rather than what usually torments him, a truth he also has to keep a secret now that he's learned more about it.

See, Logan doesn't expect you to be really dead. Much less to hear what you are and have been hiding this whole time from the rest of the people in the mansion — He also learns that you feed on blood, that vampires are a common thing in the world and that he shouldn't, at least, be that surprised when he's a mutant in a world full of humans himself.

You are a folklore myth on small villages, stories in Rumania and horror character in films, so you don't blame him when as you spoke, he finally understands why you're so damn attractive, so damn seductive as you explained more about your way of living, some memories you've been keeping to yourself since being a vampire was so damn solitary, memories he listens to cause he knows what it's like, to be misunderstood, to be eternal, to be alone as well.

It makes the two of you grow closer by the next weeks. You now talked during broad daylight about random shit at first, about the war sometimes, about your condition as he refers to when people is around, eaves-dropping on what you two are talking so invested in. Friends.

Simple as that.

And it's safe to admit also that in the course of the next days, Logan Howlett is a fucking mess, and he knows it, but he won't do anything about it.

He won't flirt cause he knows you're a hell of a woman, in every good sense of the word, that he's way too damaged for a vampire even, for all kinds of people out there, and as much as he'd like to say anything, he values your attention, how you switched the attitude of acting like he didn't exist to be a friend, one that you came to share secrets with a cherry aroma glued in their skin.

It gets him insane, to the point he's no longer spending much time with Jean and people start to pick up on it as if he didn't have enough headaches already. He doesn't care. Shit you are not bothered by what people say, and to be honest, he cannot seem to care either.

At first, he's reluctant of keep on talking to you as normal as it is. He's not really invested in religious themes, but he sure admits you're a sin by all meanings, a religious experience of some kind if anyone asked him — He agrees with what he has heard also in the hallways. Innocent conversations of teens and their platonic crush on their teachers. You are pretty hot.

He's so interested in knowing more about you, about the nights you spend in Rumania, when you leave to Canada, the different lives you've lived across the years. He finds himself looking forward to share his stories too, weird enough, cause he's over two centuries himself and he just craves to talk about it with someone who also gets him in a deeper level, that weariness that fills your body when you age so long.

You got the best of immortality, and instead of feeling envious, Logan finds himself attracted to you so much like he's never been in his whole existence. Not at the point it happened with you at least.

By the end of the first month he knows your little treats. You use a lot of sunscreen, and avoid activities outside as much as you possibly can with those classic, tiny black sunglasses that hided you from the rays of the sun, always in the shadow so unapproachable; how you'd usually dismiss food offerings from anyone who's kind enough to even offer you something, and when you haven't fed well during the course of the week, you'd become the most maddening woman he'd ever met.

Maddening.

"What wrong with you, Leech?" Leech. You've been in such a bad mood lately that when he's seating next to you in another random smoking session outside, your fingers twitch, clearly pissed at the nickname after saying multiple times you don't like it.

"I'm not in the mood for plays now."

He can tell from before. When you talked to him that very morning and stared at the collar of his flannel for what it seemed a good, nice minute, he realizes the same moment that you were staring at that pulse point in his neck, where the flesh blood was pumping in his blood flow: You're hungry, as any living creature would be and at your own manner, in constant control as you fight the sense of hunger.

So instead, the mutant ask, like he always does when he’s curious about something that involves you:

"When did you last feed?"

"A couple of weeks ago."

That would explain it. You don't talk much about your meal plan, he knows the professor is in charge of all of that. You've told him about blood bags and hospitals, but he's not really aware of how constant you need to eat, how the blood supplies most of your energy, makes you stronger, gives you vitality, so Logan at first, don't really know what its like to not drink any blood in the course of two weeks.

"What happened with the blood bags from the Hospital?"

The mention of blood out loud seems to triggers you. A groan escaping your lips as you can swear you feel the taste in your mouth — "Don't know. Haven't seen a single one this week, Charles said something about next week, problems in the bank I guess."

You're clearly worked up. It's a new look he hasn't registered before, your hair is tangled in a less-composed look, and there's a slight shake in your hands as if you're going through withdrawal, deprived for what you needed the most.

"And animals?" he questions, trying to find a solution. “Can’t you eat a cat or something?”

"Like shit i'm going to feed from a fucking animal," you're almost immediately grossed out, scrunching your nose at the idea. "I can barely handle being so close to a damn human but animals? I'd rather fucking die this time for real, no waking up."

"That bad huh?" the mutant asks, taking a sip from the beer he sneaked outside, chucking lightly afterwards. "So you're a leech with elegant taste, huh? Of course you are."

"Clean blood is rare," you explain, rolling your eyes. It's inevitable. He knows you hate the nickname so much that he insists to keep on calling you that way just to get a reaction—. "Humans nowadays taste like dirt. They consume drugs among other substances, pills, food supplements, even damn vitamins, don’t get me started about blood diseases cause it gets me in a bad temper. Every single thing affects on your taste, even what you eat. It's all registered there. Clean, good blood is rare to find. Call me elegant, call me picky. It's a damn fact."

"And what about mutant blood?" he questions. And it seems like a mere phrase at first, one with no subtle tones, he’s usually curious about your nature so you don’t pay much attention as he spoke—. “You’re picky about mutants too?”

“No, i’ve never had a mutant before.” The truth is, you hate feeding from people, the act being something so intimate, so damn personal, you refrain yourself. Killing humans, picking a next victim to fed on, is considered now a treat you don't appreciate from your kind, making you steal from hospitals and any kind of blood bank before Charles offered you help. You haven't fed from a mutant, cause you avoided everyone equally, but you don't want to be rude about it. “You all smell different, but i’d be lying. Maybe yes, i’d be picky about it too, feeding is something intimate.”

It's an undeniable admission, and now that he's trying to be in your position, he would also be picky about someone's blood. Logan remains stoic cause he’s suddenly filled by the thought of something else, a glimpse of his own weird creativity he forces himself to push aside, to really suppress now that it's not the time or the moment.

“How do I smell?” It's too late to stop the words from coming out of his mouth when he asks her. And at first, is out of pure curiosity. He has never encountered a vampire in his life until you, let alone had someone talking about the subtle tastes of the blood being undead, so he doesn't want to let the opportunity slip — Of course he wants to know if an over two hundred mutant like himself would be as remotely good as a fresh, clean bag from the hospital.

"You stink like wet dog," he surely deserves it after all the times he’s been calling you a leech — "Like those cigars you tend to smoke, alcohol, and musk. It's similar as wood. That smell you got when you're in a forest and it's not raining but straight pouring."

"Is this a way of telling me i'd taste bad, peach?"

You make a mental note to let him know after you like peach way more than leech.

"If i'd found a human smelling like that, you won't be hearing from me anytime soon" you're just messing with him. A playful banter you enjoy more than ever, the distraction you needed to think in something else rather than the blood bags you craved so deeply — "Hell, i've would just walked the other way."

"So i'm taking you won't be feeding from me anytime soon."

It all takes a dark turn there. You're very aware of the tension the last month now that you talk to him in daily basis, but it’s just mere tension, nothing that ever goes beyond the limit. Logan has never said something to flirt with you despite the million chances he got, and he always remained like a friend, one that you enjoy spending time with now. Cannot be blamed when you're taken aback.

“Cat got your tongue, kiddo?” Man. You're about to whine about the name before you remember he is indeed, older than you are. Vampire or mutant.

"You want me to feed from you?"

He seems so willing when you ask. Even when you teased about his smell calling him a wet dog. He just seems so eager to let you just do it, try a mutant for the first time.

"Yeah," he dismisses it like it's not something so deep — "I doubt Charles is going to let you take a bite since you could clearly kill him, and I'm not sure the others would be pleased with the idea of you sinking your teeth in them, so yes. Me, leech."

Logan Howlett doesn't really smell bad. And you don't know why cause he has all the ingredients to fucking stink, yet, you'd call him interesting. That's what you thought when you find his pulse point again, the vein in his neck you looked earlier in the morning, thinking just as the same you were thinking now.

Of course you would feed from him. Is it a good thing to do? No, in any other circumstances you'd decline. He's your friend.

Now? You’re having a hard time.

"So I'm guessing that you're pleased with the idea, then," Real talk?, you just want to hear him say it. He doesn't talk much usually, but now that he's very vocal about what's on his mind, you have to take advantage of it—. "I'm not sure either. But I do think Storm may be interested too."

He seems content with the response, taking a long sip from his beer before adding — "Please, go and ask her so you're less annoying."

You're almost completely sure he doesn't find you annoying. You also don't care about Storm. And maybe he knows you're not going anywhere, that you're not moving.

"You really want me to bite you?"

"I dunno now, princess" he looks at you pleased now cause he got you where he wanted to, cause he managed to awake all the interest now that you're looking at him "Are you going to pull a Dracula on me?"

"No, i'm not going to suck you dry if that's what you're asking."

Logan chuckles. He's a damn masochist. It's been like that as long as he can remember. It may have to be with his healing powers cause he likes it more than usual, but the idea gets to his head soon enough, all falling so damn fast: Your breathing would be against his neck and he'd take the bite like a damn champ.

"Yeah I can handle you," he says, aroused. "You're not gonna hurt me if you take some blood. I'll be fine and you won't be a pain in the ass."

He acts so gruff about it but you hear the sound of his heartbeat already high enough to wake the entire mansion, his labored breathing since he suggested the idea himself. He digs it, strange enough. Thrives on the idea.

He's a grown man already, and he can take a little leech like yourself.

It's clear you're hungry, cause it doesn't take much for you to accept, nodding like you're defeated, like you just lost the war entirely, cause there's no many options here to take and even if it were, you are now interested in have him more than any other blood bag. In fact. To hell with the hospital.

"Okay."

It's a simple answer, and it sure works with him as you get close to him, the bench you always used to sit now seeming so small as you look around confirming you guys really are alone—. "You won't tell anyone?"

It's something stupid to ask, cause after all that time he has never said anything, keeping your secrets as if they were his own, saving you from weird questions people get sometimes as they didn't know much about you. He's clearly not going to say nothing at all.

"Are you going to stop whining for a second and just eat darlin'? Cause I might change my mind here."

He's feeling overload soon after.

You don’t need a formal invitation to lean closer to his neck.

There's no way to describe it also cause he has never seen something like that, never felt a similar sensation more than when he's fucking, the cold touch of your fingers in his chest, taunting the vein in his neck without a previous warning before leaning in even closer than before—. "Stay still" you demand, face close against his bare skin, only one goal in mind. "Don't move for a minute. Just-"

You cannot finish the sentence, and Logan can experience the sporadic pain of the bite first hand when your teeth finally sink in his neck, piercing the flesh so easily as you let the blood fill your mouth. He grunts at the sharp pain, his face contracting momentarily before it's replaced by a nice wave of pleasure, one that hits him right in the guts as he grabs you by the nape of your neck, pushing you against him, almost demanding you to be closer, to keep on taking what you want, what you've been craving for two weeks.

When did he turned into this perverted sick? Getting off by something so primal as the fact you're feasting on him.

The feeling of your lips and the clear suck you gave when feeding are sending him into a spiral, and to be honest, he didn't expect to be so devastated by you, by the way your fingers stay against his chest to prevent him from moving, pinning the mutant between the wood bench and yourself so he won’t move, won’t do anything unless you want him to,pressing on the wound to draw more blood out.

"You heal so damn fast," you complain, looking at the traces of your bite with an unpleased face as they disappeared on his skin as fast as you created them.

"Then bite me again. I don't care."

You chuckle before leaning once again, and you can feel how the air grows hotter than how it was usually, the shift on his breathing as you bite him again, pressing on the wounds once again just to suck.

And you’re hungry, it’s the whole deal. His taste differs from what you believe at first, a huge change from what humans taste like, from what you’re used to deal with in hospitals. There’s a subtle taste of alcohol yes, but it mixes good with the sweet taste of honey, the weird taste you cannot put into words. It must be a mutant thing for sure cause it’s thicker than usual, a mix of flavors that explode in your tongue.

The headache you suffered from the whole week seems to dissapear as you drink in, feeding the monster you responded to in your stomach, demanding you to make him bleed more, to satisfy yourself until you can’t have any more.

Logan, on the other hand, is really fighting against his very own war.

You’re already close enough, but he just wants you damn closer, as much as he possibly can. It’s clear that well, it hurts slightly, but he has endured much worse, means nothing when it’s the pleasure that comes with it who strikes on his body, the light sucking, the idea you’re full of his blood, that you are not on trouble as you were before thanks to him. All because of him.

He's not used to acts on his impulses, but he does it anyway.

"C'mere" he says in a strangled voice, Logan's having no trouble moving you around, grabbing you by the hips to make you straddle him, keeping you glued to his neck as he doesn't want to disturb you—. "You really are a pretty leech, huh?”

You hum against his skin, pleased at the contact, and when he realizes you’re not complaining about his actions, he let his fingers grip your tights, keeping you against him.

You can hear him making this sound, quite like a moan but not exactly when you’re licking the holes you left in his skin, he does heal fast and don’t need any of your help when you’re done, but you coat his skin with your saliva anyway just to speed up the process, cause you want to do it, looking down to him after to check if he’s pale or nearly dead. You never really know.

And Logan himself is just fine cause his fingers gather the blood under your lip when he takes the sight of you sitting in his lap as the pearly white rays of moonlight makes your skin shine, and he pushes them inside your mouth so you don't waste any drop of what it can be considered food.

"So what's the final verdict?" he asks as his hands are now grabbing your tights, there's something so intimate about the moment, so personal, hot as he presses his fingers against the flesh of your muscles, he understand what you said before—. "Do I taste like utter shit?"

"Well, i’d need another taste to have my final decision" he laughs, and he don't really laugh often so the unexpected sound sends a shiver down your spine now that you’ve heard the sound quite a while now—. "Not much, just a little."

“Have you fill then, peach” He encourages you. “I want you full so you don’t whine the rest of the week.”

You don’t have any heartbeat, but if you did, it would be ragging in your ears at his words. At the warmth he’s spreading like a disease on her body that, despite being dead and cold, you can feel more than ever.

“I like peach,” you admit, this time pressing a soft kiss before directly hurt him—. “Leech is annoying.”

He’s going to say something, tease you about it maybe but he’s interrupted by the nice feeling of what he considers are your fangs tearing his skin apart, familiarity hitting him all sudden as he moans, a rough sound that comes from the deep of his throat, hands coming down to squeeze your ass, making you gasp against his neck when you experience the aching need physically forming in his pants.

“Still,” you say, concentrated on not allowing the wounds to close. But at the lack of complaints on what he's doing, Logan’s hands kept wandering around, making you move against his now clearly stiffed cock—. “Fuck’s sake I said still.”

“Stop being a damn brat. You can eat while I move you,” he grunts annoyed, shoving you against him, the friction of his jeans against the thin fabric of your shorts is enough to keep you quiet: Feeding from a stranger and feeding from a person you’re attracted to are two different things, especially in the position you find yourself in. “You don’t have to do anything. Quit whining about it.”

In response, your fingers press against the wound, not caring if it hurts or if it bothers him, but just enough to get him to bleed more and prevent the cut from closing, lapping at the blood that gathered over his collarbone, staining his white tank before you could even avoid it.

Your fingers grab the fabric just to pull it slightly down so it won't bother you, and the deep sound his chest make when he mocks about your desperation is stuck on your brain for the next couple of minutes, indulging in his taste, shutting up the rest of the world.

A moan comes out of your lips, muffling it against his skin. You're too zoomed out to hear it, but he's on a hell of a ride too, moaning as he demands more. It's been a while since the last time you did something like that, combine the pleasure of something as primal as eating with a mundane activity like sex, so you kind of forgot how good it felt, blaming yourself from depriving from something so needed.

"Do you always get this turned on when someone bites you?"

"No" Logan answers as you finish. He's rock hard beneath you, and he lets you know it when he's controlling the movement of your hips, working you against him at a slow pace—. "See, the woman i'm trying to seduce don't usually bite me, nor make me their main dinner plate."

You whine at the friction.

He looks down to the cause of all his damn problems just to notice his pants being damped with nothing but a physical form of need, soothing the uncomfortable fabric of his blue jeans — "So wet for me already, you’re making a damn mess, do you always get this turned on when feeding?"

Cheeky bastard.

He's using your own words against you, and you cannot be less bothered as you laugh softly, licking your lips only cause you know there's dried blood in them, drowned in his smell, the honey taste that lingered in your mouth.

“No, I don’t.”

At the sight, Logan's hand grabs your jaw in a rough movement, making you look at him before making you kiss him, deepening the contact as fast as you give him the chance. His tongue is soon invading your bucal cavity as he takes control of it, slow, intense and needy, as if he was holding on so much time before giving in to his own desires.

It is something like that.

You don't need to breathe in daily basis, but there's a burning sensation in your chest of wanting, of infinite lust you've been also experiencing by yourself.

The old mutant can taste his own blood in your mouth, a metallic taste as he keeps on kissing you until your lips are pink and puffed. He has thought so much about it that now that he has the opportunity, he devours as if he's a starved man having his first meal in what seems are ages.

"You didn't tell me if I tasted bad."

You think about it for a second.

"I'm afraid you're a rare breed cause it doesn't make any sense" You don't need any help now moving, cause you're rolling your hips on top of him at your own pace, allowing him to use his hands for something else—. “You have all the ingredients to taste like shit, but it's nothing but the contrary, even better than the fucking blood bags.”

“Sounds like your going to make me your meal plan, darlin. I’m here offering you a hand and you just take everything,” — “Such a greedy little vampire.”

He doesn't seem to care though, same as before he's nothing but willing to let you take everything as much as he tries to bark about it. He's more worried about his hands now that they're sliding down your oversized shirt, tracing patterns over your stomach, his touch so hot against your usually cold temperature.

"Logan," you whine,— "Someone can see us out here."

"Now you care about that?" his hazel eyes are a shade darker when he speaks. "After you're nice and full of my blood?"

His hands are big enough to take your whole cunt, allowing his digits to roam over the fabric of your underwear, almost thanking you for using those loosened pajama shorts he has seen before that very night as he just takes the fabric and pull it to the side.

"Nobody is going to see us. It's late and everyone's sleeping, leech" he teases you, and you cannot bring yourself to care about the nickname at the feeling of his hand taunting you from over the fabric—. "If you can bite me here outside, you might as well take my cock here too."

You cannot battle against that. You're deep in whatever spell he puts you into, giving in to the attraction and the tension that now needs to be taken care of. Logan's fingers touch you in nothing but experience, cause he knows how to please after so much time alive, how much pressure he needs to apply to leave you plain dumb, pliable for him.

"D'you think I need to stretch you out before fucking you?" he asks against your neck after leaving a reasonable-sized hickey in the zone, he likes the idea of people finding out about what you've been doing with him the next morning. "Or you're a big girl and can take me all by yourself?"

He'd like to take your time with you. Thoroughly enjoy you as much as he wants to, let everyone know you're his now, that you're shuddering thanks to him only, but he's too needy for that, too deprived of you to take his time.

"I want you to use that pretty mouth of yours and talk to me," he demands, coming up to look at your face while torturing you, his index and middle finger rubbing your clit from over the underwear—. "I'm not properly touching you yet and you're losing it already, peach. C'mon, you can talk to me still."

"I can take you," you say in a strangled voice. "Please Logan, please."

It's the plea of your tone that gets him, the soft begging of an ache he can only soothe, your face while you ask for more, not aware of anything else but him.

"Please what?"

"Please just fuck me already," you ask in frustration—. "I just need you to fill me up for a damn while."

You are starting to love the sound of his laugh. The deep sound he makes when he’s really enjoying something, his voice in damn general.

"Be a good little vampire" He says in a gentle tone. Logan’s trying to be kind even when his touch is so rough. "Unbuckle my pants and take my cock out. My hands are busy now, and you can do it yourself."

He is busy indeed. Toying with your underwear being the only thing that’s keeping him from the direct contact, pushing the fabric against your hole as it works as a barrier, preventing his digits to fuck you as he’d like to. He’s busy keeping you in place, preventing you from downright melt as your hands came up to unbuckle his belt first, the sound of the metal as it moves filling the air for a couple of seconds before you put all your attention in the button of his jeans, the zipper coming down with the force you’re using.

“Yeah baby,” he praises—. “You’re doing so good, keep going.”

When you pull the fabric of his briefs down, he’s already leaking for you, pink head, slightly curved to the side, moaning, erratically how much he needs your hands on him, how you're wet and ready for his cock. You close your fist around him, stroking slowly as your hips lift up enough to position yourself on top of him.

He’s big. Damn fucking right he is, you’d expected it from before cause sometimes you swear you can see his full length in his jeans, but taking him in your hand is a struggle but itself.

“Are you going to take me yourself or do you need my help? I know you can.”

Despite his words, he does help. Grabbing the black fabric of your underwear to finally make it to the side, the tip of his dick pushing against your clit before he's the one to place it in your leaky hole, forcing himself slowly, giving you time to take him in, inch by inch.

“Good girl," he says, head rolling backwards for a brief moment as he experiences the warm sensation of your walls surrounding him, clenching against his cock as he keeps one hand on your hip, helping you as you lower yourself over him. "Let me look at you.”

His fingers grab your jaw, squeezing you as he makes you look back at him, pushing you once again as you holded a loud moan. He's stretching you at his need.

"One more time," he begs. "One more time and you got it, peach. You're almost there."

Jesus fuck. You can feel yourself getting dizzy. You've drank a lot of blood and you're now overwhelmed by this intense pleasure that formed in your lower stomach, gathering there and waiting for the perfect moment to explode—. "Fuck I-"

Logan's pampering you with kisses as a mere distraction, his lips travelling through your neck to your collarbone before you're finally seated on top of him, a muffled moan you need to shut filling the calm of the night.

"Fuck you're tight," he exhales, and he's lost in the sensation, the way your velvety walls welcome him inside. He stays still for a moment, giving you time to adjust, to make you the one who starts moving on top of him.

You can see his veins popping up. All over his chest and coming down to his shoulders and his arms, and god gracious — He smells so fucking good you’re tempted to ask if you can have a bite again.

The moment feels longer than usual, the seconds pass slowly as you stay there. Logan’s hands are just touching your skin from under your oversized t-shirt, taking in the low moans you gave him, the almost perceptible whispers as you get used to him, to his size.

He likes the intimacy of it, the bliss. Man you look so pretty in his lap when the light of the moon is stripping you all to his eyes, even if you’re fully dressed an he’s seated in a damn bench, he cannot enjoy it more, pulling you in for a needy kiss, one that is rougher than the first one and leads you to move inevitably.

His cock pushes past that nice spot inside, and the friction is enough to make you move again, rocking your hips at a slow pace for a few seconds. The sound of your moans is silenced by his demanding kisses, and now that he knows you can handle him, his grip on your hips turn more firm now, squeezing the skin there so he can control your speed, the rythm of your movements now faster than before.

“Shh, don’t whine” what he lacks of vocal usually, he pours it all in just fucking, talking you through it when he feels you’re being too loud—. “Do you want to wake the others? We can’t have them seeing you like this, all fed up and cock-drunk.”

“Let me bite you again,” you ask soon enough. And it takes a lot to do it, cause you’re doing it out of pure greed, cause you can’t have enough.

“Take whatever you want, leech, just don’t make me faint” he jokes, his panted breathing betraying him as he moans, incredibly interested in the idea—. “Want to be conscious when you cum all over my dick.”

Logan’s sure your eyes glisten in a red color as you lean over his neck. And this time is less affectionate, much less gentle as you finally bite him again, teeth piercing the flesh so easily his hips jolts against you in response of the sharp pain your fangs create, the warm sensation of his blood in contrast of your cold touch, tongue-licking all you get from him.

And fuck it feels good.

He shrudders beneath you, shaking his head just slightly at reflex of pain before continue working his way with you, placing his hand between your tights as he lets his fingers rub on your sensitive clit, just enough to make you bite on his neck harder, the lewd sounds of your cunt taking him between holded moans as you suck on his neck.

“That’s it taking me so good,” He praises — “You like that, princess? Like how you’re full of me?”

You hum against his skin. The blood coates your chin as it goes down through his chest, staining his white tank for a couple of seconds before the holes your teeth made finally closes on their own.

It’s pure ecstasy. He can feel it when you clenching around his cock, cheeks red from his blood going now through your system, his vitality, his energy.

You can feel him fucking everywhere. So when you kiss him it’s all teeth, bite and his blood.

The pleasure’s taking control of you now, and Logan’s dizzy from the blood loss, his body covered now in sweat as his words slur together, not threading any coherent thought.

“That’s it,” he says, making you bounce of his cock. “Gonna’ have you in my room then, all spread out f’me.”

His hand wrap around your neck tightly, keeping the direct contact as he chokes you. Shit. You don’t need to say a word. Logan already got you.

“James-” he’s too deep to question why you’re using that name with him. How you facade is crushing down now as you let go.

When your body trembles on top of him he’s already cumming too, the squeeze on his cock sufficent to fuck him up personally, his bruising grip on your hips shoving you as deep as he possibly can as his release hits him like a brick falling from the damn sky.

He lets you work for it, ride each second of your high, milk him dry as a white circle of his own cum mixed with your juices coated the base of his cock, his underwear now slick with your orgasm.

He’s struggling to breathe, to properly say something as you’re finally coming down from your peak, looking at him through half lidded eyes.

“Did you called me James?” he questions, and you’re a damn bad liar, cause he knows imediately you’re hidding something cause of the look on your face—. “Do we know each other? From before.”

You don’t know how to respond at first, at least, cause you cannot lie in a position like that now.

“Well uh. It’s quite a long story here.”

Before you can continue he gets up, making you wrap your legs around his hips before stsrting to walk to the mansion.

“Logan-” you say in a strangled moan yourself, still sensitive as he’s balls-deep inside you.

“It will be less than two minutes, leech” he responds gruffily,— “Need to get you into my room so I can enjoy you the rest of the night, and you can tell me all of it.”

He don’t care if he’s bloody or a damn mess as he squeezes your ass climbing up the stairs, much less if anyone see the two of you in that state.

“I want to hear all the details, Cause I have a weird feeling that this has happened before.”

You cannot find a reasonable excuse to say no as the man’s already reaching the second floor.

Logan’s fucked after that night. When he learned about all that you were before, weirdly connected to you through the decades.

It must be the bite isn’t? Shit. He’s more in sync than ever now that you’ve been feeding from him a lot the last few weeks.

Ah. You fucking leech.

my masterlist

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I Hate The New Hero

Pt 2: A spider's nest is different to a bird's.

Pt 1 - Pt 2 (You're here) - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10

Okay, judging by how the polls are going now, this one is winning!! I'll post the second part of Don't Drink The Kool-Aid soon (possibly tomorrow or the day afterwards). Don't be afraid to send in asks and such regarding anything! I love answering them and doing side stories/headcanons for this series or other series of mine!

The day rolls by painfully slow. How could it not when you're going to invite someone, who you're pretty sure would throw you to the wolves for a dollar, into your shitty apartment?

You exit the school building with two of your friends; Sherri Webster and Tia Hunt. You see Timothy leaning against the wall to the exit of the school building and you can't help but scoff, does he not have a life or friends?

Tia notices your gaze and chuckles, you had already told them both about Tim and the project, they laughed and made fun of you - you'll get back at them.

Sherri pats me back "If you don't come back to school tomorrow we'll let the police know he probably murdered you!" Tia laughs at that and I grumble and elbow Sherri.

"Oh shut up! God, you're insufferable!"

"And you're about to be dead!"

"Oh please, no one in Gotham stays dead these days!"

"I'll make sure you do!"

Tia interrupts before the minor spat ends in the two forgetting Timothy is there - now looking at the three with the very hatred you'd give to your parent's murderers.

"Can you guys fight later? In the group chat maybe? I'm starving and want to go home - private school food tastes like shit." Sherri sighs but agrees and the two wave goodbye before leaving you.

You wave and after a bit of awkward silence you glance at Timothy who is now staring daggers at you, his eyes are calculating but aren't narrowed - like a feral wolf analysing it's target. You hold back a sigh as you raise a brow.

You make a hand motion for him to follow you and you start to walk along the path to your amazing, beautiful, posh, cool apartment that in no way is flawed.

The walk is silent and painful, at this point your willing to bust out the charms and joke with him but you're scared he's going to smash your head into the concrete as soon as you make a joke.

You walk past a poster that was hung up regarding the heroes of Gotham, Aranea is near the center hanging to the side of a wall. You scowl at it - the picture was bad and didn't flatter you at all.

Timothy catches your scowl and makes a show of rolling his eyes and typing something on his phone. You can't hold back any longer.

"What? You grading me or something? Speak the fuck up if you have a problem, Richy Rich." You sneer as you say the last part, he snaps his head up at you in offense.

"Oh, you want me to speak up?! Fine, you're a selfish brat who's got parents that fawn over you and you never lacked anything in your life yet you go after some sweet innocent girl who would a hundred percent save you if you needed it. Aranea is one of the best people in Gotham and it's disgusting that you are so rude to her!" Timothy rants. You can't help but raise a brow, you want to laugh so hard - the irony is right there.

Instead you roll your eyes "You hate me because I hate someone you fangirl over? How pathetic. Hate me for a real reason!" You try not to smirk when you see Timothy try to take deep breaths and calm down.

"... Let's just get to your apartment already." He states as he continues walking, you raise a brow. "Wrong way." He turns around and follows you silently.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Finally you stop in front of your stunning apartment. Out of the corner of your eye you see Tim raise a brow.

"How'd you get into a private school if your parents can't even afford an apartment building that doesn't look like it's had ten different crime scenes this week?"

You deadpan, ouch man...

"I got in through an engineering scholarship." You reply blandly, no point in spilling your emotions and true personality to a person like Timothy.

Timothy doesn't say anything else and you take that as the conversation ending and lead him into the complex and to the apartment you reside in.

It's home and you wouldn't want anything different. The plants are dead, there's a leaky tap, the clock that's stuck on the wall ticks annoyingly, there's a small spider making it's home in one of the corners and all the furniture looks one kick away from dust.

Your parents don't have much time to clean...

You look at Timothy out of the corner of your eye, despite loving where you live you know people will judge and Tim will probably use this against you some time in the future.

.............................................................................................

Tim's confused. You had always exuded "rich spoilt brat" behavior and seemed so stuck up yet live in actual filth? On top of that you got into Gotham Academy on a scholarship? Do high schools even do scholarships? It doesn't make sense.

Tim's not an idiot, he knows he's being petty but at the same time he can't bring himself to stop. Aranea is one of the kindest people he's met in Gotham, a saint, an innocent person who deserves a good life.

Yet, you hate her guts, you say awful things about her despite not even meeting her - or maybe you did, either way there's no reason for you to be acting like this.

Tim isn't petty, he won't use your living situation against you but the scholarship thing can be.. a small post can ultimately cause ridicule in the school.

He blinks a couple times, not noticing how he's already in a cramped bedroom - it's the size of a supply closet in the manor!

There's a bed in the corner, a window that's curtained up, a closet, a toy chest and a pile of sketch books that reaches halfway up the bedframe. It's cozy he supposes - for a sewer rat at least.

You mumble something about getting food before leaving the room. Seems you have some smarts and etiquette.

His phone buzzes and he looks down at the Gotham Vigilante Group Chat (GVGC), it's a message from Aranea.

Aranea: "Heyyyy!! I won't be able to go on patrol tonight, my mama wants to go out for dinner :("

Tim sighs, that's good. He can't go because of the stupid project so it seems he won't have to get horrendously teased for missing out on hanging with Aranea.

Tim's phone buzzes again and it's Bruce.

Bruce: "Message if (Reader) does anything sketchy. You can't trust someone so hateful."

Way to state the obvious. Tim already had multiple plans in case you did something.

He pockets his phone after responding with a thumbs up and he sits down, on the floor - assuming that's where they'll work.

.............................................................................................

Soon you come back with snacks in hand and had changed into more comfortable clothes - they were your dad's because in no way were you going to show Timothy your sense of style.

The clothes consisted of cargo shorts that were grossly oversized and tied with some shoelace to stop them from falling and an oversized shirt with the image of Garfield on it.

You raise a brow at where Timothy is sitting.

"Uh, why are you sitting on the floor?"

"That's where we'll work. Why?"

You think you're ready to go cry in a corner out of frustration.

"I have a bed."

"okay? I doubt it can even fit the both of us."

... Okay, that's true. Still, even if you hated him your parents didn't raise you to be rude to guests.

"Fine. You sit on the bed and I'll kneel on the floor."

You watch as his eyes widen, not expecting that response. You push him to stand up and make him sit on the bed before plopping down and taking a big sketchbook and flipping to the back of it.

"Okay, let's get started." You mumble, more so to yourself.

You two spend the next three to four hours researching, drawing things and writing down dates. By the end of it your tired and just want to sleep. It would have been done sooner if there wasn't an argument that caused you to storm out of the apartment and pace the halls and if Tim didn't leave to the halls to answer a call but at least it's over with.

You rest your head against your bed, you're still on the floor and more than content staying there, you doubt your body will even allow you to move.

Slowly your eyes close and you drift off to sleep.