#just wanna wrap my arms around that proped-up thigh and do pull ups from it.

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

🩵Silk robes and thighs that won't quit🩵

[ilylovelyz]

slow dancing in the dark.

pair : levi x genneu!reader

warning(s) : none! jus a little note that they aren't celebrating the fourth july, just something else that includes fireworks considering they arent based in the u.s, maybe a little suggestive, a lil making out

soft echoes of fireworks exploding vibrate the comfort of your shared bedroom with levi. headquarters is practically deserted as everyone is out celebrating the holiday. except for you and levi.

room lit up by only by a wax candle, the two of you are content. you remember the disheartened sighs that your friends gave you when you declined their request to go out and drink with them. levi was with you at the time. he totally expected you to say yes. you're a lively person, don't you wanna have fun?

he was a little surprised when you told him that you would rather spend the night with him, just sleeping away through the night. and thats what the two of you did.

levi was sitting up against the headboard with your head and left arm sprawled onto his lap. he was mindlessly rubbing circles into your back, watching the fireworks from afar through the open window, linen curtains moving with the soft breeze.

he looked down at you with soft eyes. you were staring at the candle's flame, eyes low with tiredness. he feels a twinge of guilt in his gut, he can't help but feel you would be happier with your friends doing fun activities, but you're just here with him, laying around and doing nothing.

suddenly, his hand comes up to the tip of your nose, lightly squeezing it for a quick second. you squeal with surprise, proping yourself up on your elbows. "what was that for?" you pouted, lightly punching the side of his tummy. "you look bored," he bluntly said. "don't you wanna be with your friends? gettin' drunk and all that stupid shit."

you signed in defeat, sitting up completely on your knees. "no, i already told you that. whats wrong with wanting to spend a holiday with you?" you whined, leaning your body weight onto his shoulder. like it was second nature, his arm came to wrap around your waist. "..well, i just feel like you wouldn't be bored." he admitted.

you signed once again. "do you have breathing problems?" he teased. you rolled your eyes at his question, choosing to adjust your position so your sitting in his lap, hands wrapped around his neck. "no, i don't have breathing problems. and no, you're not boring! theres much more things better than drinking."

"like?" he raised an eyebrow. you grinned at his obliviousness. "like.. kissing you." you cheekily said, leaning in to place a soft kiss onto his lips. you pulled away after a few seconds, feeling like prideful when you saw a soft smile on his usually emotionless face.

not wanting to waste anymore time, he leaned in for another. kisses with levi were always so sweet. they were always your favorite activity. so much better than drinking bitter alcohols. the gentle and chaste kiss quickly turned into a more passionate and intense one as the two of you began to speed up the pace of your lip's romantic dance.

sighing softly, your tongue slipped inbetween his lips. you swallowed down his quiet moan as you lightly rolled your hips into his groan, feeling his free hand squeeze at your upper thigh. he pulled away once more, cheeks and lips tinted in a flushed red.

"y'know what else is better than kissing?" you smirked.

if you like my content, please like and repost with tags :)

[dinthehottotty]

Drunk on You - Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels

Warnings: Just some smutty drabble inspired by a new toy....

A/N: I wrote this on mobile so sorry I don't have the drop down bit. Also go gentle on me, this is my first Whiskey piece....

No. No, no. No, no, no, no. Nonononononono! This... could not be happening. Mortification was creeping in. Shame was shuffling from the corner of the hotel room.

It had taken ten minutes for you to begin to realize the weight of the situation. Still you couldn't bare looking to your right. If your legs could just stop shaking, that would be great.

You were a grown woman. An adult. Always prided yourself on your own efficiency. You got the job done, and done right no matter the energy and time. You did it independently for the most part, that's why you'd been hired by Statesmen to begin with. You were an amazing spy with a nerve of steel.

There was only one thing that ever got to you. Agent Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels. What an asshole. You'd never met such a surecocked, womanizing, smug bastard man. He pissed you off so much. You never used to let his advances bother you, but somehow over the years he wiggled his way under your skin. Now a single look from him made you seeth and bristle like a wild animal.

Your pride was now wiped away like a dry erase board. Your mind slowly is beginning to gain its bearings while you tremble in a puddle of your own fluids on your hotel bed. The light of the lamp next to you is a reminder of your vulnerability.

Sparing a glance to your right, everything about you is slow and hesitant. Jack is lounging beside you comfortably, a satisfied smirk coating his face. He's got his eyes closed, his fingertips tapping the air with a song you've got no idea about. He looks almost peaceful in the warm light of the dimmed lamp. And it would be if his stupid porn 'stache wasn't tilted up in a cocky smirk.

Your stomach chooses this inopertune moment to gurgle loudly. Weird, you swore the nausea was due to the naked rodeo clown beside you. Weirder yet, he almost looked good without his yellow sunglasses and cowboy hat. Less like a want to be country music star and more like a Latin lover.

His head lolls your way and his eyes bulldoze you with his thrilled smirk. Even in the low, unflattering light his brown eyes are warm and remind you of the warm gooeyness that is sliding from between your legs. You want it to not feel good, but your so boneless from the last... fuck, you don't even know how long it's been.

"Worked yerself up an appetite, did ya, darlin'?" Your only response is to gulp and you have to look away from him. A shiver rolls through you and he chuckles.

That's the worst part of this. Not the fact that you actually caved and slept with the sleeze of man, not the fact that he was the only person you genuinely hated in regards to company. No, the worst part of this, was how wrecked he had you. Jack Daniels is singlehandedly the best lay you've had in your life and it wasn't even hate sex.

Granted you should be screaming at him to get the fuck out of your hotel room and raging that he barged in on you in the first place.

Ginger had been so polite in regards to leaving you in the room by yourself for a bit. Laughing as you called after her 'if there is an emergency, don't call me, get the boys!' And then you forgot to turn on airplane mode.

It wasn't that Statesmen couldn't afford two rooms for you both. Instead, she was your near and dear friend and missions served as your sleepovers. You'd both spend free moments giggling and gossiping about the other agents. And also your sex lives and preferences. Also, your newest toy that you hadn't gotten to try.

A tiny egg with a little tongue and suction on it. The catalyst. You'd been prepared when your eyes and ears left to give a good review only to very quickly discover just how delightful and overwhelming the little tool was.

Too aware of how Whiskey was leaning over you with a grin, you suddenly feel nervous. "Don't tell me I fucked the sass out of you, sweetheart. I do love that wicked tongue you've got." He thumbs your lower lip and you find your self holding in panting. For fucks sake it took you nearly ten minutes to stop after he'd finally rolled off you.

It's pitiful that you just let out a tiny whine, pushing weakly at his chest. It makes his grin deepen, his dimples practically shining. "Don't go soft on me now, girl."

"Need minute," you finally rasp, voice hoarse. He leans down, shocking you with a hungry pass of his mouth over yours.

You should want to fight him, but your mind feels as boneless as your body.

There is a noise. A beep of the door unlocking with the card swiped.

Ginger is back.

She still knocks, bless her heart. It's like Whiskey doesn't even notice, instead just drawing his mouth over your jaw and tasting your neck lazily. He must know. Either he thinks it's housekeeping or he just doesn't give a fuck.

"Rosé?" She calls out from the hallway by the door. "I hope I gave you enough lead time to try-" she gasps as she rounds the corner and finds you wrapped up with a man you despise. "Oh, lord! What even happened?" She averts her wide eyes and Whiskey chuckles warmly over you.

"Decommissioned," you rasp out, complete mush under the mouthing at your neck. "Sorry." Teeth appear and your vaguely aware that Whiskey is laughing with delight against you.

He lifts enough to flash a grin at Ginger.

"You hate him! What do you mean 'decommissioned'?" She throws her hands up.

"What's the racket?" Eggsy calls, strutting in with Gallahad. Both of them freeze at the sight of you practically preening under the warm body over you. "No fuckin' way," the kid demands when Whiskey jerks the blankets up around your naked form.

"Now, I don't mind the company, but if you boys want a show, I suggest you go find the HBO channel back in your respective rooms. The lady is going to need a hot meal and a nice nap before she goes anywhere." You don't even register that you're nodding along with his statement.

"No way you bagged Rosé," Eggsy demands. "She looks drugged!" The heat of a big calloused hand rolls up over your side under the sheet and you let your eyes fall shut. Ginger just shakes her head like a disappointed mother.

"Not drugged," you manage to offer. It earns you a happy purr from the smug agent above you and he rolls a hand between your legs unabashedly. Your still too sensitive and jerkily shove his hand, gasping. "Out, please," you murmur, no bite to your words as a warm mouth finds the hollow behind your ear.

Ginger quickly agrees, shuffling quickly out of the room. Eggsy, even with Gallahad's prompting tries to stick around, giving you shit until the mouth leaves your neck.

"The lady politely requested you leave. Find the door, boy." He snarls like a caged animal and it sends warmth down belly. You find yourself uncaring and unfurling beneath him as Eggsy is lead out of the room.

"Hungry," you moan, trying to glower when he goes to reposition and settle between your thighs. It earns you a cocky grin.

"Atta girl!" You don't know what you expect, but it's hardly him pulling your legs up and proping them over his shoulders while he reaches for the phone.

You both moan when he sinks into you, wettly and just as easily as before. "Fuck, feel so good, baby." And he leans over, picking up the phone and dialing. There is ringing as he cradles the phone between his shoulder and ear, rolling his hips forward. He's rewarded with the obnoxiously loud squelch that accompanies his thrusts. "What sounds good to eat?" Whiskey asks as you pant and writhe beneath him like his cock isn't stretching you beyond capacity.

"Everything," you gasp out.

"Could you send us the works? Whatever you've got on special." You can't pay attention to anything else he says, in the back of your mind your mind you know your a mess.

It's when you hear the tiny motor start that your hand is jerking down and your snatching his wrist. "Jack, no, I can't-" you rasp as you stop his hand from bringing the little egg down on your clit.

"Why not?" But it doesn't actually sound like a question and his eyes are glinting down on you.

"Is too much, hurts."

"You weren't complaining earlier."

"Overstimulated." He gives a growl, shutting the vibrator off before hauling your knees into the crook of his arms. It has you moaning unabashedly as he changes angles, stirring the pace up.

"Feels so good, oh fuck, feels good. Don't stop, please don't stop, always wanna be full, fill me up please." What kind of effect was this? You never babbled.

"What a good girl," he rumbles, "finally giving into how desperate she's been for me. Do you want to cum around me again?" He watches you falling apart beneath him, a complete wreck.

"Can't, can't cum. Felt like I was cumming the whole time that toy was on my clit. Hurts." A hand rubs down your belly, a direct path to the heaven between your legs that he's still fucking. You scramble for his wrist again but he's stronger and you let out a cry as he brushes a knuckle over your swollen and abused clit. It just makes him chuckle when you arch off the pillow below your hips.

Your so wet that it's coating your thighs and making him glide against you like your coated in oil. Everything was wet and warm.

"C'mon girl, don't tell me yet that I've won?" He rasps. There is a need that builds up at those words. An anger as you manage some kind of weak glare up at him. You fumble for him.

You intend fully on crushing his mouth against yours and devouring him in response to his quip. It seems to surprise you both when your lips move more tenderly than either of you anticipate.

Whiskey goes stiff in your arms, fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. There's a moment you think you've killed the mood but then he's sink down against you and tenderly kissing you back.

It's not unexpectedly fun and wild like the rest of this desperate affair has been. Instead, his hips roll slow and smooth, no rush or reason beyond just feeling you. The heat of him consumes you as you breathe into each other's mouths, drinking the other in and soaking in hot hands.

"Shoulda done this sooner," you manage against his mouth and feel his chuckle rumble you both.

"Offers been there," he groans. "Spend the night in my room," he pleads gently. It has you shivering.

"Okay," you sigh, mush beneath the fulfilling stretch he was giving. He could ask you to kill Eggsy here and now and you'd probably say yes. Just as long as this never ended. You were drunk on Whiskey.

[hrina]

Apericena (Il Ritorno Extra)

PAIRING: Alex/Y/N RATING: R WORD COUNT: 2.5k REQUESTED: yes!

hi my lovelies!!!! unfortunately, this isn’t the 3rd part of il ritorno, but i thought i’d write a little something to keep u guys satisfied until then!!! this is an extra (basically just a lil event taking place in the il ritorno universe) :D it was requested and i got inspired, so i rly hope u guys like it!

if u do, here’s my inbox (feedback really motivates me just saying) and my masterlist!! xx

here’s a short list of songs that came on shuffle as i was writing and that i think fit the theme fairly well. if u wanna listen to them as u read, be my guest!!! 

night changes - 1d lost in your light - dua lipa the edge of tonight - all time low

if u haven’t read il ritorno yet, here’s il ritorno (part 1) / l’amato (part 2) / il devoto (part 3) :-) happy reading!

“She had no right!” you fume, clenching your jaw so tight you think your teeth may actually crack. Alex has got a tight grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles white against the worn leather. You’re huffing angrily, your arms folded over your chest and your fists clenched against your ribs.

“She’s got nothing better t’do, love,” Alex says, attempting to soothe you. 

You stare pointedly out the window, watching as small shops pass by. Alex had tried taking you out somewhere nice, somewhere no one would really bother the two of you. You’d been sat at a table, waiting to be served, when you’d overheard a syrupy voice carry through the air from a group gathered only a few feet away.

“Came back with her brother, I think,” someone had said. Both you and Alex had stared at each other with wide, panicked eyes, your backs stiffening. After a few long seconds, however, nothing else had been said. Just as you had begun to relax once more, you’d heard a high-pitched simper.

“Easy for it, isn’t she? Apparently, he’s living with her.”

Your bottom lip found its way between your teeth, and you pushed back abruptly from the table. The group of people looked up in shock when your chair screeched loudly against the floor. You stared evenly at each individual, hoping that you had gotten it wrong: maybe they hadn’t been talking about you.

But then you’d caught a glimpse of one girl nudging her friend and lifting her eyebrows, as if she was trying to point you out.

“It’s none of your business!” you’d said loudly, glaring at her harshly. 

And yeah, it had been quite satisfying to watch her mouth pop open in surprise. You’d wanted to say more (or perhaps scream would have been a better description) but Alex had suddenly wrapped a hand around your wrist, pulling you out of the restaurant before you had the chance to cause a scene.

And now, you’re here.

“I thought it would be far enough,” you whine, leaning your head back against the seat, “Thought nobody would recognize us there.”

“We’ll just go further next time,” Alex suggests. He pulls onto a dirt road, and you squint as the sunset bathes your face in a dusty orange glow. You sigh dejectedly, and Alex removes one hand from the wheel, reaching for yours and lacing your fingers together.

The two of you sit in silence for the next few minutes, with Alex focused on the uneven road and you studying the way the sun slowly dips into the horizon. It’s quiet and peaceful, though your stomach still lurches grossly when you remember how condescending the girl’s tone had been as she gossiped. 

Alex can tell that you’re still thinking about it, and so he turns the steering wheel to the side, fighting off a smirk when you squawk in surprise. You stare at him questioningly when he veers off the road and shifts the gear of the car so that the two of you are securely parked in place. 

“She just had nothin’ better to do,” Alex repeats his earlier words, unbuckling his seat-belt so that he can face you properly. You bite the inside of your cheek, sucking in a deep breath.

“Is she right?” you ask in a small voice, avoiding his gaze, “Am I easy for it?”

Alex scoffs, rolling his eyes. The noise is enough to get you to look up at him, your lips pursed into a fine line. Alex squeezes your hand reassuringly, shaking his head. “’Course not, love.”

You don’t look convinced, and Alex swears under his breath. “Christ,” he says, “’M sorry. Dunno how else to prove it to yeh.”

“No,” you tell him quickly, sitting up straight. You unbuckle your seat-belt as well. “No, it’s not your fault. I’m just...I’m sorry, I’m just being difficult.”

“Not bein’ difficult,” Alex counters, “Just nervous. An’ I get it, y’know? When people say shit like that...’s never pleasant.”

“Yeah,” you lament, blinking sadly. Alex’s chest aches, and he wants nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms and pepper kisses to the crown of your head. He absolutely detests seeing you so torn up, especially when it’s a result of meaningless, insensitive prattle. 

“Hey, c’mere,” Alex mumbles, untangling his fingers from yours so that he can bring a hand up. He cups your face gently, leaning forward over the console of the car and guiding you up to meet his lips.

A warmth spreads over your body when his mouth glides smoothly over yours, and you let out a soft, satisfied sigh. After a few short seconds, Alex pulls back, but you whine at the loss of contact. Your hand catches the back of his head, fingers finding purchase in his short hair. You’re not quite sure as to what’s come over you, but it’s okay. It’s okay.

“Come back,” you plead softly. 

Alex chuckles but follows your command nonetheless, kissing you again. You part your lips quickly, urging him to take control. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you whimper when you taste the complimentary soda that he’d been served at the restaurant before your little outburst. 

Your quiet pleas and whines grow in volume and frequency, and soon, you’re grappling at the material of his jacket. Alex breathes out a curse, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Gonna be the death o’ me,” he tells you, and it makes you giggle shyly. 

Warmth pools in your cheeks, and you’re scared that he can feel it when he strokes the side of your face. You lean further into him, nearly falling over the console of the car. Your hand lands on his thigh so that you can steady yourself, and Alex reaches for your hips, tugging you forward.

You grunt as you try to coax each of your legs over the midpoint of the vehicle, and Alex laughs loudly when you bump your head on the roof. You merely pout at him, and he presses a soft peck to your lips to appease you.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, though he’s trying desperately to conceal a smirk, “’S not funny.”

“Then why’re you still smiling?” you ask, frowning childishly. Alex’s hands cup each of your thighs, slowly sliding up your legs and bringing the material of your dress along with them. A shiver races down your spine, and you feel your stomach somersault with desire.

“So beautiful, y’know that?” Alex tells you, his eyes sparkling. The last rays of the sunset reflect strikingly off his irises, bringing out flecks of gold and bronze.

You bite your lip to keep a wide grin from splitting your face in half, and instead of answering him, you merely kiss him again. Alex hums happily, his fingertips digging into the plush skin of your thighs. You gasp when he growls and flips up the skirt of your dress, evidently done with keeping things slow. Goosebumps erupt along your legs, and you shudder vehemently when Alex hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear.

“Cute.” He grins when he pulls back, studying the material.

Your panties sit quite high on your hips, the silk of the fabric soft against his calloused palms. The pair is one of the fanciest you own, the white colour appearing silver as it creases with your movements. You inhale shakily when Alex slowly begins to inch the material down, exposing more of your abdomen.

“’S okay?” He asks, and you nod eagerly. He’s already had his mouth on you, for God’s sake. You’re not nearly as nervous about baring yourself to him as you once were.

“What d’yeh want?” Alex asks, his warm breath tickling your lips.

You whimper softly and wrap your fingers around his wrist, pulling his hand down and gasping when he cups your cunt.

His touch is feather-light—deep down, a more primal part of you wishes that he would apply a bit more pressure, be a bit rougher.

You don’t realize that you’ve said this out loud until Alex growls low in his throat and squeezes his eyes shut. His lips warp into a pained grimace and he exhales slowly. “Bloody hell,” he hisses, “’S that really what y’want? Need me t’be a bit meaner?”

“Not ‘meaner’,” you correct breathlessly, subconsciously rolling your hips into his hand, “Just…dirtier.”

“I’m gonna die,” Alex croaks out, staring up at you with helpless eyes, “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, darling.”

You snicker quietly and bury your face into his neck, trailing wet kisses up the column of his throat. Alex’s hands work rapidly to tear your underwear down your legs, and the new pace makes you gasp. Your panties get stuck around halfway down your thighs due to the fact that you’re straddling Alex’s lap, but they allow enough space for what he has planned for you.

“C’mere.” Alex coaxes you out from where you’re burrowed against him, “Gimme a kiss, yeah?”

“Okay,” you say, your voice scratchy. You smear your lips against his, sighing when his index finger spreads your lower lips and presses flat against your clit. He begins to rub delicate circles around the bud, not wanting to overwhelm you with too much right away. Plus, he’s quite enjoying the way you keen softly and begin to move slowly against him.

“Good so far?” Alex asks, pulling back from your mouth.

You can’t help but to notice how swollen his lips are, the skin around them slightly red from having been pressed so tightly against yours. His nostrils flare as he strokes his middle finger up and down your slit, feeling you out. You’re slick, but only slightly, and he knows that if he were to try to slip a finger inside, it would hurt without the proper lubrication.

“Need—,” he fumbles, and you whine when he pulls his hand away from you, bucking against the air. Alex slides his index and middle fingers past his own lips, wetting them with his spit and lolling his tongue around them. You watch him with hooded eyes, your lips parted.

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper.

Alex snorts, drawing his fingers out of his mouth before placing them back where you need him.

“‘Pretty’?” he echoes, cocking an eyebrow, “Not handsome?”

“That too,” you assure him breathlessly, twitching when he begins to stroke his fingers against your clit again. You lean into him, your thighs growing tired from having kept the rest of your body upright. “But it’s m-more than that. You’re just—oh!”

You moan loudly when his middle finger dips only slightly into your cunt. It’s not enough to fill you, but you can feel him circling your entrance before sinking in again, this time a bit further. You look at him with wide eyes, and he’s about to ask if you’re alright, but then the words leave your lips in a rushed slur.

“More—I want more.”

He eventually gets the entirety of his finger inside of you, until the cool band of his ring is pressed tightly to your entrance. Your eyes have drifted shut, and your lips move around silent breaths and indistinguishable words. Alex swallows heavily, his cock aching against the confines of his trousers. He’s sure that you can feel the bulge against your thigh.

“’S good, right?” Alex questions, pulling his finger back slowly. He feels your walls pulse around the digit and has to bite back a string of colourful curses. You nod quickly, your eyelids fluttering open as you watch his face morph into an expression of concentration. The tip of his pink tongue pokes out from his lips, and the space between his eyebrows creases as he gazes down at where his finger has been withdrawn, shiny with your arousal.

“I—,” you choke on a gasp when he dips the digit back into you. He doesn’t hesitate or pause this time, following through on the action and curving his knuckle upward. You let out a loud yelp and your hips jerk forward reflexively.

Alex smirks, satisfied with himself. He continues to tickle that special spot inside of you, relishing in the way you squirm in his lap. “Definitely good,” he quips, answering his own question.

You can’t form words, only able to communicate through gasps and squeaks. Alex’s eyes fall from your face to your chest, and without a second thought, he leans forward and fastens his mouth to one of your breasts over the thin fabric of your dress. Even through your bra, he’s able to locate your nipple, giving forceful sucks until the bud puckers proudly and strains against the material. He pulls back, admiring his handiwork and pressing his thumb against your clit.

“Beautiful,” he tells you, “Wish we could stay like this forever, love. Just wanna play with yeh, find all those special spots that make y’feel good.”

“Alex,” you whisper, your hands diving into his hair. You play with the strands, brushing them away from his forehead and running your fingers along the close-cropped parts on the side of his head.

He’s so damn handsome.

“Like it?” Alex hums, scattering soft kisses against your lips, none of them firm enough for you to catch his mouth with your own. “’S nice just being able t’let go, yeah? I wanna be the one t’make you feel like this—just me.”

“Just you,” you confirm, nodding your head zealously. There’s a tight knot in the pit of your stomach; it seizes and contracts with each passing second, winding you up higher and making it hard for you to keep your grip on reality.

“Want a kiss,” you whimper, pressing down on his hand to gain just a bit more friction.

Alex smiles and nods.

“Sure, my love. C’mere.”

After a few more minutes of heavy kisses and hurried fingers, you come undone. Alex watches in awe as your shoulders hunch and your lips part in bliss. He helps you ride out your orgasm, rubbing dainty figures against your clit and only ceasing when you push his hand away. With his help, you’re able to pull your panties back up and rearrange the flowy material of your dress so that it covers your thighs.

You kiss him again, your eyelids drooping slightly. The way he moans into your mouth has you feeling drowsy, but then you brush against a very prominent bump in his trousers, and you stiffen.

“I can help,” you say, reaching for his belt.

Alex begins to protest as you undo his pants. “’S okay, love, honest. I’ll just—”

He cuts himself off with a moan when your fingers dive past the waistband of his boxers and wrap firmly around his hard cock. His hips buck up instinctively and you lean in, pulling the collar of his shirt to the side and sucking a dark bruise into his skin.

And okay. Okay. You’re obviously determined.

Alex really fucking loves you.