#there is a serious lack of hook fucking

[mangyraccooon]

It’s all ‘crocodile with a strap’ ‘crocodile with Iva’s hormones’ ‘crocodile had bottom surgery’

Guys, Crocodile fucked Dragon with his hook.

[ervotica]

hot rod — a.donaldson & p.zweig

pairings; art donaldson x fem!reader, patrick zweig x fem!reader, art donaldson x patrick zweig

summary; patrick comes to visit you and art at college. he finds college life is a lot more adventurous than once anticipated

warnings; mdni, 18+ only, SMUT, threesome, overstim, oral (m receiving), sub leaning!reader and art, more dom leaning!patrick, established throuple, polyamory

a/n; i’m not so sure how i feel about this tbh. i love the dynamic though so i pushed through even when it got away from me a little🥲 there will be another drabble for older!art and his pretty girl soon!!

you and art fuck until you’re brain dead and passed out from exhaustion. always have. neither of you possess an off switch, and when patrick’s not there to rein the pair of you in, things get a little… messy.

his cum is dried in your hair, the sticky substance smeared across your cheek, his knuckles still wet with slick.

patrick walks in, full belly laughs and peels you from art’s sweat soaked form, gives your cheek a pinch when you stir and whine.

he doesn’t clean you up because he likes to leave you naked whenever he has the opportunity — which is more often than not. seriously, you two need close supervision.

he just carries you with him to that shitty little armchair in art’s dorm, the room still stinking of sex and the humid summer air clinging to your skin; art shines with perspiration where he’s face down on the bed.

pat makes do with the lack of room, hooking a bare leg over the backs of your thighs until you’re squeezed snugly against his torso, face smushed to his chest. you’re snoring, and it makes patrick smile, slumping down in his chair to rest his lips against your cheekbone.

you wake slowly, eyes sticky and crusted over with exhaustion. your face is almost nestled beneath patrick’s armpit where you’ve been writhing in slumber and you grumble at the scent of sweat, layered with cheap aftershave. his hard-on presses to the center of your stomach and you can feel everything— the curve it makes now it’s hard and weeping, the feel of the spongy head, the vein that runs through the middle.

“you smell, pat,” you grumble, reaching up blindly to snatch the cigarette from between his teeth and take a long pull from the stick.

“yeah, well you’re not so hot yourself, babe. the whole room reeks.” he reaches down to tug on a loose strand of hair at the crown of your head. “there’s cum in your hair.”

“not my fault.” you stretch upward like a cat, curling into patrick’s chest. “where’s art gone?”

“still sleeping, baby.” he lights another cigarette, sacrificing the first one to you - still resting between your lips - and the clicking of the lighter draws your head upward to gaze through heavy lashes at him.

“come to bed,” you murmur, kissing his knuckles. your free hand coasts a long line across his jaw and you dig your thumb beneath his ear, giggling when he scrunches his features and relents, and pushes you to stand with a swat to your naked backside.

art curls into you instinctively when you roll onto the mattress, your hand threading through the curls atop his head. you scrub sweeping circles across his bare back and he hums a pleased sound, smearing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. patrick splays himself over the pair of you, all long limbs that sit askew to cover as much of your naked frames as possible.

art squints through the yellow light that illuminates the room, bright and artificial on his sensitive eyes. your movements against him don’t halt, a slow, rhythmic, loving sweep of your hands that he’s come to look forward to in moments like this. his jaw tilts upward as he mouths at your neck like a starved man, like you haven’t just gone five rounds and collapsed from overstimulation.

“you two need supervision,” patrick snorts. you quirk a bemused brow. “i’m serious, look at what you’ve done to each other! you look like you’ve been mauled.”

“jealous, much?” art mumbles sleepily, the sound muffled through your skin. you’re laughing and it splits your expression in two, eyes crinkled with amusement as the strawberry blonde boy snipes at patrick.

“should’a come to college with us, pretty boy,” you giggle. “could’a had this twenty four seven.” you dip your head until your brow presses to art’s. “poor pat, with no one to stick his dick in. how will he ever cope?”

“you could help me out, sweets,” he deadpans, the nickname saccharine and sour on his tongue all at once. art watches you through heavy lids. you huff, biting playfully at art’s lip before you tilt your head to face patrick,

“okay,” you chirrup. art’s quick to sit up, separating from your warmth in favour of nuzzling against patrick. patrick tips his chin down, slanting his lips against the blonde boy’s.

meanwhile, you’re working his cock through his shorts, palming the muscle until it chubs up beneath your hand, drooling a wet patch through the fabric. patrick groans, hips rolling up into your touch when you hook your fingers beneath his waistband and tug his cock free.

he moans into art’s mouth and your mouth goes dry at the sight. you’ve always loved to watch them like this, the way they get lost in each other, the way they start fervently pushing into one another’s space until patrick inevitably makes the first move and sticks his tongue down art’s throat.

patrick turns to putty beneath art’s roaming touch, huge paws that squeeze and grope and push at every inch of skin they come into contact with, not stopping even as you press your face to the seam of patrick’s balls, inhaling the sweat-soaked musk that creeps up your nostrils.

art’s hand snakes downward, flicking over pert nipples and ridges of muscle before he’s flicking a thumb over the weeping slit of his cock. patrick’s back bows into an arch as you lave your tongue over his sack, humming into the sensitive skin, full and heavy and begging for release. his hips rock upward into you as you seal your lips over him, eyes heavy with lust as art comes down to meet your mouth over his mushroom head.

it’s filthy and messy, downright pornographic as art licks over patrick’s cock, tongue pressing flat against the corner of your mouth and letting his spit pool there. you’re moaning - unable to help yourself - pressing your face forward to slant your lips over art’s fully. it’s all spit and drool as you lick into art’s mouth, the heady taste of the brunette boy still on your tongue, and then patrick’s bracing a hand against each of your heads and easing his cock through the seam where your spit slick mouths mesh.

you gasp and your damp lashes flutter, heavy with tears, and art’s tugging you frantically by your waist, pressing your bare chest to his own as patrick throws his head back and groans, shallow thrusts deepening. his breath stutters out in short, sharp bursts, chest heaving when your face slides down, down, down, all the way to the base of him until your pretty plump lips are wrapped around his sack.

you suck it into your mouth just as art takes patrick down his throat, the head of his cock bulging through the hollow of art’s throat as spit stretches and bows from the corners of his lips and lands in globs across your face.

you’re too drunk on the pleasure to care, the vibrations of your little sounds shooting right through patrick until you feel his balls tighten; he groans, long and loud, pushing closer to the pair of you as his cock pulses rhythmically and he releases down art’s throat.

you push your way through until your mouth is on art’s again, tongue licking into his mouth to taste patrick, wanting to be marked, claimed by both of them. his lips part, nose pressing to your cheek, and then he’s lifting you into his lap, his cock an angry red and pressed to the seam of your thigh.

patrick groans. there’s no fucking way he’s hard again.

“no more, you horndogs!”

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Dealer Ellie blurb. CONTAINS SMUT BELOW

Dealer Ellie who sits in a corner at the college parties with a baggy of weed tucked away in her pocket. She was never a party person, but being a broke college student forces you into certain businesses. Her eyes were observant, monitoring every person who entered the room until her eyes fell upon you. Never was Ellie some huge fan of hook-ups or degenerate college activities. However, she was already in a mood tonight and needed some well deserved distractions. And the way your hips swayed like you were actually having a good time, unlike her, as you walked only encouraged her mood. Ellie tried to be patient, selling to people and doing her job. However, as soon as you made your way over to her with a cute little smile plastered on your face, she couldn’t help herself. It wasn’t long before she had you back in her dorm laid out naked on her bed. You were nervous as hell. Ellie was mainly quiet, as if this was some casual activity to do and not sex. However, you could also tell she didn’t do this often. However, any lack of enthusiasm was soon replaced with moans that vibrated through your pussy, her hands gripping onto your thighs desperately as she sank her face more and more against your aching cunt. Her tongue lapped at your clit like it was some precious gem, her nose greedy as it inhaled your arousal. You were a whining mess, your legs shaky as your orgasm approached. You were a bit embarrassed to not last very long, but you hadn’t been touched in a while and you were currently in Ellie’s dorm of all the people’s beds you could’ve been fucked in. It wasn’t like she was super experienced or skilled either. Girl was just so obsessed with eating pussy that she was moaning like she was the one getting fucked, and that only spurred you on. It didn’t take long before you were spilling essence all into her welcoming mouth, the auburn-haired girl giving you a sheepish smile after all is said and done. She knew this isn’t something serious, far from commitment, but she knows to take care of a girl. She cleans you up and kisses all over your trembling lips. And who knows, maybe she’ll send you home with a free joint or two.

[passingnotions]

On Set | Jihyo

smut, 900~ words

You find yourself balls deep in Park Jihyo and in front of a DSLR camera with a very, very bright studio light setup. You both have your knees up on the cheapest couch imaginable—white, tacky, stiff—as your arms hook and pull around hers. Her back has been arched like this for the better part of two minutes, tits presenting (and bouncing) for the camera as dictated by the director. When you finally let go, she moans. It’s performative, satisfactory. But you also know it’s real.

See, you and her go way back. A few years worth. Jihyo has been in the industry for so much longer than you and, despite it having been your first scene together all those years ago, you blew her back out like she fucking deserved—her words, by the way. Phew, that was new. What’s your name again? It stuck with her and you’re vainly proud of that, so much so that every time you’re arranged for a new scene together, she brings in gift baskets and goodies; pampers you in hopes that you fuck her the only way you know—the right way.

As if you’d ever disappoint.

And it’s funny that you’ve never hooked up off the clock—a shame. There’s always a point in conversation, during prep time, where you both laugh at the thought. You have always thought it’d be disastrous in the best of ways. Have to keep the magic on screen, however. 

Something important to note, to digress: this crew sucks at everything. Your agencies both wanted in with a new fledgling studio, your manager called it. Their content is good, consistent, but you’ll be damned if it’s not generic. However it goes and however trite their camerawork, they’re making bank, and you’re there to profit off both of your names alone. 

There’s a before, during, and after to things. The latter two are good: a pretty girl with a pretty face gets railed by some nondescript cock and some part of her ends up glazed white. The former, however, leaves a lot to be desired. Best summarized? Solid creative vision. Near-zero technical prowess.

So, the sound guy needs another break. Something’s off again, he says as you’re mid thrust. The director yells cut for the umpteenth time and you bury yourself to the base to check in with your costar.

“You’re fucking kidding.” Jihyo says under her breath, head turning back to you. She sets her toned arms on the backrest of the couch and lays her head. “How long has it been?”

“Two hours.” 

It should have taken three, but the timer will count four by the end—

You take another long back-and-forth drag inside of her warm, tight cunt.

—Not like you mind.

Jihyo starts pushing back onto it; an experimental one-two, hips bucking ever so slightly with the majority of your cock still inside her folds. You figure she likes the way your balls brush against her clit. You do, too.

“It’d be a shame if—” She shimmies a little side-to-side. “You filled me up and the cameras weren’t rolling.”

Edging for the last hour. How would you say the question lands?

Jihyo snakes a hand under her body to reach for where you’ve started to fuck, slowly, slowly, purposefully. She runs circles with her middle finger, and with a very serious tone: “Keep going.”

Your hands land right where her ass overflows onto her hips when she spreads the knees a bit further apart. Her arch settles. With a long drag back—and a tight grip of that muscled frame—you fuck into her. Once. This firm thrust that makes her whole body shudder. You catch her profile as her lips curl a smile.

“Keep going.” Her fingertips move faster.

And when Jihyo’s asking—“sure”—you keep fucking going.

Okay, the shoot does end up taking four hours, but not because of the staff’s lack of equipment know-how.

You are fucking. Truly, unequivocally, fucking. Like you’ve missed her (you have—she’s fun), like she’s missed you.

The sheer force it takes you to not cum right then and there—to help her reach that ever sought-after climax—is the same force with which you pound Jihyo into the cheap, faux leather couch. You’d swear, later on, how she near melded with the piece of furniture: nail scratches on the surface, the imprint of the seams on her skin. She loves all of it. It’s guilty-pleasure levels of abrasive. You don’t fuck like that on camera. Authenticity can’t be quantified on a payslip.

And for that short amount of time, the set dissipates; the crew vanishes.

Jihyo is cumming—you know this, her tells. Goosebumps all over her skin, from the top of her thighs up to her rippling, reddened cheeks, and the way her moans turn to breathy coos and needy whimpers. You revel in knowing you can split her apart. That same satisfaction ends you in tandem.

Because there’s no other way you would have it, without a doubt. This short burst of fire burns right through your core. Your hands grasp her skin for dear life as your legs cease and stiffen their motion. All of it—the money shot—coats Jihyo’s pulsing cunt in an instant. It sends ripples through you both as you struggle to maintain a semblance of composure. The load washes over your length in this pleasing warmth that has Jihyo shivering through the remainder of her orgasm. Slow quivers. A bit of contented laughter.

“Fuck yes,” escapes her lips before the crew fades back in, curses and yells accompanying an attempt to catch whatever’s left of your unsanctioned stunt.

You’ll take the extra hour.

[rememberwren]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Third time’s the charm. Simon/fem!reader. Handjobs, edging, cumming untouched, thigh riding, femdom behavior, somewhat submissive!simon, literally tried to cure my depression with this (did not work)

-

“You said you usually go three times in a session. We should try one more time, shouldn’t we?” 

Ghost looks at you like you’ve grown an extra set of eyes. He shakes his head a little, his eyes hard and disbelieving when they meet your own. “Have I not embarrassed myself enough for you?”

“Not really—? I mean—fuck,” you fumble, running a hand down face. “That didn’t come out right. I just meant that I don’t feel like you have any reason to be embarrassed.” 

He stares at you, through you, like if he looks long and hard enough he’ll be able to see your truth straight down to your bones. Well let him look. He hadn’t exactly bared his soul during the few weeks you had spent discussing this before meeting in person, but he had told you plenty: his issue had cost him relationships. It had cost him jobs thanks to lack of focus. Friendships thanks to neglect. You couldn’t imagine anyone willingly choosing something which gave them so much suffering. His lack of complicity cleared him of any blame in your eyes. 

At length, he must see that there is some honesty in you. Looking like it pains him, he nods his head, hulking shoulders deflating a little. “Fine. One more time. I’ll need a few minutes though.”

“That’s fine,” you offer, and it is, or at least it would be if it meant you both didn’t have to sit in complete silence, Ghost uneager to offer up conversation topics and you too awkward to try. 

He keeps staring at you, too. Or more specifically, your breasts. You’re wearing a simple t-shirt, but the effect is aided by one of your prettier bras. You had worn it unsure if Ghost was serious in his insistence that there would be no sex taking place between you both 

It seemed a pity for it to go to waste. 

“Do you want to see?” you ask him, fingers finding the hem of your shirt and gripping it tightly, folding it a little anxiously back and forth like an accordion’s bellows. 

“See? What? No—!”

“I don’t mind, honestly.”

Ghost reaches up a hand to rub at one eye like a headache is forming behind it. His mouth never abandons its signature frown, even as he says, “If you want? Jesus, fuck. I don’t know. I’m not going to stop you.”

You find that you do want. You kneel up, take the hem of your t-shirt into your hands and work it up over your breasts. For all his lack of enthusiasm, his eyes crack open straightaway and glue themselves to you, widening a little at the sight of your strappy, lace-laden bra. 

“I know you didn’t fucking wear that for me,” he says, sounding winded. 

“I’ll be honest, I thought this was just a ploy to hook up. I wore the matching panties too, do you—“

“Stop—talking,” he mutters, closing his eyes. His hand reaches down towards his (valiantly hardening) cock, but thinks twice, turns into a fist, and comes to rest at his side. “And under no circumstance should you take your pants off.”

“Got it. Pants stay on.”

Ghost sighs. “I’m ready. Let’s get it over with.”

That’s the spirit, you think to yourself dryly. You lift your hand to your mouth, creating a little cup with your palm and to spit in, your eyes locked on his own. You hear the click as he swallows, but it’s progress that he doesn’t cum, right? That must mean that he had experienced some level of desensitization, either to you as a partner or to the specific stimulus or a mixture of both. 

But that’s not how this is supposed to work. The whole point is to help him learn to last when he’s as desperate as possible, hoping that edging when he’s truly suffering will lead to a more satisfying orgasm and therefore a need for fewer of them. 

You lower your hand instead of spitting and grip the hem of your shirt, tugging it off over your head altogether. Ghost can’t seem to find his tongue, staring at you with dark, huge eyes as you reach around back and fumble with the clasp of your bra, but at last that comes undone, and you peel it away from you, letting it join his jeans and your shirt on the floor. 

His eyes rake over your naked breasts, mouth forming a curse that he lacks the breath to whisper. His cock is so hard and heavy that it lays against his belly, thick and twitching. 

You shift and straddle his thighs just proximal to his knees. He fists the bedsheets, abs tensing sharply as he watches you with silent awe and trepidation. 

“What are you doing?” He whispers. 

“Getting comfortable?” you suggest. 

Now you cup your hand and spit into it. Then you offer it to him, holding out your hand expectantly. Looking wary, he leans up onto his elbows, ducks his head, and spits into your hand too, quite delicately for being a giant of a man. 

You take your hand and place it palm down against where his cock lays on his belly, slicking the underside from top to bottom. Ghost groans, a low sound torn deep from his chest. He collapses off of his elbows and onto his back, hands finding his eyes and palming at them again while you slick his cock all over with a delicate touch, barely more than a tickle. 

“Are you teasin’ me?” he grits out. 

“I would never.” The tips of your wet fingers trail down over his balls, tight and drawn up against his body already. He hisses through his teeth, cock flexing. You fight a grin. 

Taking him firmly in your hand, you give him a series of smooth, slow strokes, your hand loose and gentle where it is cupped around him. His body writhes against the sheets. 

“Stop, please stop,” he gasps, and you do, letting his cock fall to rest against his belly with a soft thud. He opens his eyes, takes one look at your tits, and squeezes them shut again. ”Fuck, can’t believe you took your shirt off.” 

“I can put it back on if you want.” 

“Really don’t want that. Really fucking don’t. Just—sit there. Please,” he tacks on to the end like an afterthought. You’re grateful to have received a please at all. He takes deep, slow breaths, his nostrils flaring as he strains for air. 

When he gives you a curt nod, eyes still firmly closed, you reach down and use one hand to grip the base of his cock. The other you place toward the head so that you can softly drag your thumb over the deep red tip, tracing the sensitive ridge and over the leaking slit. He whines, honest to god whines, a sound which you feel viscerally in your belly and lower. You shift on his thighs, wondering if it would be so bad to just straddle one, to get some pressure right where you need it most. It’s not like there’s any sort of propriety in a situation like this. He’s getting his, why can’t you get yours? 

You use your thumb to trace a vein up the length of his shaft and smooth the slick over his tip, polishing it softly. 

“Fucking—! Stop! Stop!” 

You stop, and you swallow an unhappy sound. Things had just been getting fun—for you, at least. Ghost looks like he’s being put through the wringer, redness creeping down his neck to disappear under his shirt, knuckles white where he grips the sheets, breaths rapid and shallow. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. He laughs a little, a self-deprecating, unhappy sound. “You’re too good at that.” 

“Good with my mouth too,” you say on a whim. 

His eyes flash open, wide and surprised (and narrowed in on your mouth), his lips parted in a look of near comical astonishment. His hand scrambles to grip around the base of his cock, squeezing painfully. “You—you’re enjoying this aren’t you?” 

“Way more than I thought I would,” you admit. “An obscene amount, honestly—I’m so wet—“

Ghost releases his death grip around his balls and strokes his cock, once, twice, thrice, quick little strokes as his face crumples, as he gives up on the whole fucking thing. You can see it in his face, the defeat, the submission. He’s going to jerk himself off to a quick, unsatisfying release—but it doesn’t seem fair. 

“Stop,” you hiss, reaching out to grip his wrist. He lets go of himself like he’s been burned, immediately obedient even as his face twists with fury. He pulls away from your touch but watches as you shift until just one of his thick thighs is between your own. 

You give a soft, gentle sway of your hips against him. His face is so fucking expressive, his eyes and brows and mouth telegraphing his every little thought and feeling. He watches you with something like tortured awe, eyes flickering towards where your clothed pussy rubs against his bare thigh. 

“Don’t touch yourself,” you breathe, pleasure zipping up your spine at the friction against your cunt. “I want to see if you can cum like this.”

“Came went you spat in your fucking hand,” he breathes, abs tensing, cock twitching as precum pools in his happy trail, watching as you get yourself off against his thigh. “Can cum like this no fucking problem.” 

“You’re not as sensitive now,” you pant, planting a hand against his tensed chest to gain the leverage you need to lengthen the rolling of your hips. 

“Am too.”

“We’ll see.”

His face twists. “Will you—keep going? Even if I do?”

You consider for a moment and then shake your head, breaths too shallow to make words properly. You feel saturated, swollen and sensitive. Every drag of your hips sends muted pleasure up your spine. Normally this would take you ages to cum, but you haven’t been this worked up in a long time. Watching Ghost’s cock turn shades of red and plum is like live pornography, obscene and arousing. Feeling a little cruel, you tell him: “Gotta hold it.”

He tenses his thighs, heels digging into the bed. It does something to the muscle pressed against your cunt and makes your nails dig into his chest. 

He’s shaking his head. “No. Negative. Can’t.”

“Hafta.” 

“Can’t—fuck, I—“

“Goddamnit Ghost,” you whine, hips working feverishly against him. “Hold it and let me cum.”

He really can’t—really and truly. His cock spurts against his belly, a pitiful amount of pearly cum as he groans low and long, moan forming half-hearted, breathy apologies: sorry, ‘m sorry, couldn’t hold it—

You groan, a sound more frustrated than aroused. Your hips slow and stop, and your mouth fights to make a pout. You will it away. It really isn’t his fault. 

“You…you don’t have to stop,” he says, a little shyly. 

You shift off of him and swallow your own sigh, feeling sticky and unsatisfied. “It’s okay,” you reassure him. “Maybe next time I’ll get my pants off.” 

His cock, spent, still twitches against his belly. 

[withwritersblock]

Kiwi

~Kiwi by Harry Styles~

Author's Note: requested! this is not my proudest work but idk it's something lol! Summary: Quinn has a summer fling Warnings: implied smut Word Count: 2,466 Quinn Hughes x fm!reader

Two months ago

She was leaning against the bartop as she was spinning the straw in her drink. It was obvious that she was into him. He was leaning against the bar, his hands were delicately maybe hesitantly over her exposed skin of her back. 

Her hands grazed his arms as they were slowly starting to inch closer and closer to one another. Quinn was not looking for anything serious but by the way she was touching his arm and looking at him, she felt the same.

“So there’s this group of guys over that keep staring at us, are they with you?” she whispered as she pointed her finger towards the small collection of guys hanging only a handful of feet away from them. Quin reluctantly shifted his gaze towards the group. 

His lips curled upward in a smirk as he dropped his gaze towards the floor, his hands continued to delicately graze her skin. 

“Those are my friends,” he let out as he slowly lifted his gaze to meet her eye. She smiled softly as she tilted her head to the side. “They lack the ability of minding their own fucking buisness,” he let out.

She chuckled, “I mean, you’re just lucky my friends already left or they would be a lot worse than them,” she explained. 

“Yeah? Why’s that?” he questioned, leaning towards her. 

“I don’t do this ever,” she mumbled, “I’m a boyfriend person not a hook up person,”

Quinn clenched his jaw as he took a deep breath before he brought the cocktail towards his lips, “That is the exact reason why they are staring,” he said, a small smirk forming to his lips.

“Do you want to give them a show or do you want take this somewhere, private?” she offered as she continued looking deeply into his eyes. He smirked as he took a small step back, chugging the rest of his drink. She took a few more sips of her drink, she placed her drink down on the bartop. Holding out his hand, she gladly accepted it and he began to guide her out of the bar.

Jack started the wolf whistles but the rest of the guys were cheering him on. Quinn held his hand up, flipping off the rest of the group. 

Once they were outside, she whispered, “My place I’m staying at is like two streets over.”

He nodded as he kept his hand interlocked with hers, “Lead the way,” he mumbled. She smirked towards him as she started walking ahead of him, still holding his hand. Her frame was covered in a tight black dress. It barely covered the curve of her ass. “Oh my god,” he mouthed as he scanned her frame.

The walk to her place was fast. She stopped him at the front door, pressing her back against it. His eyes widened as he scanned her features. Her lips were covered in a red glossy lipstick, all he wanted was to kiss her. He wanted to do other things too but right now, her lips were everything. 

“You need to be quiet,” she whispered, “My friends are little crazy,” she continued. She raised her finger up and delicately pressed her finger against his lips. He pressed his lips against it as she slowly spun around. 

Unlocking the door, she pushed inside, all of her friends were already asleep as she guided him towards the hallway directly to the left of the front door. She opened the door to reveal a nearly spotless bedroom. She stopped at the foot of the bed. 

Quinn took a hold of the door shutting it hesitantly behind him. Twisting the lock, he slowly walked towards her, maintaining eye contact. Her lips curled upward slightly as she found herself blushing at the way he was looking towards her.

He stopped in front of her, he swallowed hard as he scanned her features. “Are you sure you want to do this? You said you aren’t a fan of hookups or whatever,” he asked as he continued to look into her eyes.

“I mean,” she started as she leaned towards him, “You said the same thing,” she mumbled, “Having second doubts?”

“Uh-no, you’re gorgeous and funny seems like a win for me,” he let out with a smirk on his lips. She rolled her eyes as she took a hold of his shirt delicately. She began to slowly unbutton the shirt.

“Hot funny professional athlete seems like a win for me,” she muttered as she looked up towards him. 

Y/N slowly pushed the shirt off of his frame. He smirked as he watched her gaze admire his muscles, she watched his body tense up. She leaned towards him, taking a hold of the base of his neck pulling him towards her. Reaching towards her, he took a hold of the small of her back. There lips were hovering over one another as their breathing was uneven. Her fingers ran through his hair as he tightened his grip onto the small of her back. Slowly, he leaned towards her kissing her delicately.

Present Day

The summer was nearing an end and it was obvious that whatever they were doing was nearing it’s end. He was in her bed, breathless as she was slowly climbing off of him. Falling onto her back, she pulled the comforter up to cover her chest. He chuckled as he tilted his head to the side to meet her gaze. Leaning towards him, she pressed her lips against his lips urgently. He reached his hand over, resting it on her side. Pulling her towards him, she giggled as she rested her hand onto his cheek.

She rubbed her thumb across the apple of his cheek as he slowly pulled away, “When’s your last day again?” he asked barely above a whisper. She bit her bottom lip as she glided her hand towards the back of his head. Her fingers ran through his hair as she opened her eyes. 

“We’re driving back to St. Louis Saturday,” she mumbled. He nodded inching towards her, kissing her urgently. 

Slowly, he climbed on top of her deepening the kiss. Her hands took a hold of his jaw as he took a hold of her waist. His muscle tensed as he hovered over her, she lowered her hands to take a hold of his arms. 

“Quinn,” she mumbled against his lips. Slowly, he pulled away from her, he delicately pressed his lips against the corner of hers. “My friends and I are going to the beach today, will you and your friends be joining us?” she asked while looking up to him. He clenched his jaw as he reluctantly rolled onto his back away from her. 

Frowning, she shifted her gaze towards him. “I doubt it, they need someone to drive the boat for their drunk asses,” he muttered as he sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Leaning down, he took his sweats from the floor, he stood up as he started getting dressed. 

“Where are you going?” she let out, somewhat sadly. His eyes danced around the room for his t-shirt but he couldn’t find it. “Quinn please,” she mumbled.

He turned around, seeing the pout on her lips. “Y’know, I think you’re friends are great but they have a bit of an obsession with my friends,” he explained as he leaned towards her, scanning her features. 

She pursed her lips forward, “It’s not my fault you’re friends with the it boys of the NHL,” she let out somewhat teasingly. He rolled his eyes as he pressed his lips against her forehead. 

“They already have giant egos, I don’t need your friends making them more unbearable,” he let out as he stepped away from the bed. Walking towards the door, he spotted his shirt on the floor. Quickly, he scooped the shirt up and covered his frame, “I’ll see you tonight?” he offered as he met her gaze. She forced a smile onto her face as she nodded.

“Let me know when to come by,” she mumbled as she shifted her gaze towards her hands. 

He smiled before he slipped out of the bedroom. Tilting her head back, she looked up towards the ceiling. 

~~~

Quinn returned to his house to a loud collection of wolf whistles. “Shut up,” he called out laughing as he wandered towards the kitchen, “Aren’t you tired of that joke. I’m so tired of hearing it,” he let out as he pulled the fridge doors open.

“No, no still get a kick out of it every time,” Trevor teased as he shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. Jack barked out a laugh as he leaned his head back against the top of the couch. 

“I mean you’re the one that is getting laid every night. We’re living vicariously through you,” Cole expressed, a chuckle falling from his lips.

Quinn rolled his eyes as he took the carton of milk from the fridge, “It’s not every night,” Quinn mumbled, causing all of the guys in the room to start laughing. 

“You’re either at her place or she’s here,” Trevor expressed with a mouthful of cereal, “You’re falling for her man,”

Quinn rolled his eyes, “I’m not talking about this with any of you,” he let out while laughing. 

There was a roar of laughter in the room, “So you are falling for her,” Luke teased as he brought his water towards his lips. Quinn groaned as he walked towards the stairs to head up towards his room. He raised his hand up and flipped off the group. “You’re not denying it!” he shouted again.

“Shut up, Lukey!” Quin shouted as he jogged up the rest of the way but the stairs.

Once he reached his room, his phone started vibrating in his pocket. Quickly, he pulled his phone from his pocket to see Y/N was calling him. He smiled as he brought his phone towards his ear.

“Hey, Y/N,” he let out as he shut the door behind him. 

“You alone?” she let out. He hummed into the phone as he sat down on the end of his bed. “Good, because I’ve been thinking about you,” she mumbled.

“Oh really?” he asked as he tilted his head back, glancing towards the ceiling. 

“I’ve been thinking about tonight and how it’ll probably be the last time we’re together,” she let out. 

He was hovering over her, admiring her features as she ran her hands across his upper back. “Are you alright?” he asked as he scanned her features, their nose bumping into one another for a moment. She smiled softly as her eyes flickered towards his lips. 

She nodded as she ran her fingers through his hair, it was starting to fall into his face more as it was getting longer. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against hers for a second before he pulled back. His free hand was caressing the side of her hip. 

“You seem like you’re not here,” he let out as he rolled away from her. He laid on his side to face her. Turning she faced him. He reached his hand over and delicately looped his arm around her waist. 

“My mind is busy, that’s all,” she mumbled as she reached her hand over and rested it onto his cheek. He shut his eyes as she rubbed her thumb across his cheek. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked as he delicately ran his hand up and down her back. Shaking her head she took in a deep breath.

“I think I’m just tired, can we just stop for the night?” she asked softly. Instantly he nodded. 

“Of course, come ‘ere,” he mumbled as he delicately pulled her towards him. She nodded as Quinn rolled onto his back, allowing her to rest her head onto his chest. His fingers glided up and down her back. Her finger tips drew tiny circles along his chest as she felt her eyes start to get heavy. “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked softly.

“It’s just been a long day,” she mumbled. He hummed as he brought his hand up into her hair, playing with a few pieces in the process. “I guess I needed a cuddle or something,” 

“Well, I’ve got you, okay?” he let out before he pressed his lips to the top of her head. She hummed as she took a deep breath. He moved his hand away from her back as he reached for the remote on the nightstand. “I’ll put on Friends,” he mumbled. She smiled to herself as she kept her head onto his chest.

“Yeah, since you leave early Saturday,” he let out, swallowing hard. 

“I was thinking of maybe having a little bit of fun before we do that,” she teased. He squinted his eyes as he pursed his lips forward. 

“What were you thinking?” he asked as he ran his hand across his chin. 

“Lots of things,” she let out, “But first, check our messages,” she said before she hung up the phone. Quinn’s eyebrows furrowed as he pulled his phone away from his ear. Quickly, his phone screen lit up with a text from Y/N.

He quickly pressed the message and his phone screen lit up with photos of Y/N. One of her friends must of taken them as she was wearing lingerie that was barely covering her body. 

He tilted his head back as he swallowed hard. Each photo was sexier than the one before. 

He bit his bottom lip as he continued to admire her frame. She was wearing his favorite set on her. The all lacey one that was easy to slip on and off. His body was getting hot as he continued to look over the photos.

“Quinny! We need our driver!” Cole shouted as he banged his hand against the door. 

Quinn quickly shut his phone off as he tossed it beside him. Feeling his boxers tighten as the photos of Y/N flashed in his mind. 

“Alright! Give me a few minutes,” he shouted back towards him. 

Quinn took a hold of his phone and began to call her back. He began to pace back and forth. He tried to calm himself down, he continued to get worked up. 

“Hello,” she let out knowingly. 

“You’re playing some dangerous games,” he said as he tilted his head back. 

“Am I?” she mumbled.

“Are you going to be doing this all day?” he questioned.

“Oh, the photos were just the start, I’ve got plenty of things planned for you before tonight,” she explained, a smile evident to her features. 

“You’re going to kill me, you know that?” he mumbled as he fought off a grin forming to his lips.

[pshaven]

toxic bsf!sunghoon. WALK WITH ME HERE !! (minors dni, cw oral (m!receiving, f!implied)

"girl... you serious right now?" sunghoon groans, his tone sassy as his body leans back casually, his arms prop behind his head while he gives you a pointed stare.

you narrow your eyes at him, your arms folded across your chest in a defensive manner. "i am. are you serious right now?" you direct his question back at him, a deep scowl taking over your face, but sunghoon just grins at you.

"i am as well. i don't see why you need to entertain those boys," he shrugs nonchalantly, his fangs peeking out from his upper lip as his smirk stretches, watching your face churn.

you scoff, "you're actually the worst. you're scaring all of them off, how am i ever supposed to get a boyfriend?" you complain in a whine, your brows knitted together in frustration from the lack of love in your life.

sunghoon cocks an eyebrow, his head tilted to the side as his smirk remains plastered on his face. "oh? if that's the case, then i can be your boyfriend." he retorts quickly, as if it was the most simple solution in the entire universe. well, to him it was.

your eyes widen, caught off-guard by his words. "uh... no," you quickly shoot him down, your scowl only deepening further but sunghoon isn't at all wavering as his expression remains the same.

"no? you sure?" he taunts, now leaning forward, his elbows propped up on his knees as he gazes at you. "we can play pretend, like when we were little y'know. you can practice on me so that you're prepared for the real thing," he pauses before a snicker leaves his lips, "well, that is, if you ever actually get a boyfriend." he adds on tauntingly, as if challenging you.

and he's got you, hook, line, and sinker.

"i'm kinda upset," sunghoon muses as your lips wrap around his cock, your tongue gliding along his prominent veins that causes him to hiss and throw his head back. "thought you would suck at this. who taught you before i could, hm?" he ponders, his tone is mockingly sweet with a hint of disappointment.

as you take him in deeper, a guttural moan escapes his lips. it serves to motivate you more, your tongue running down the underside of his twitching cock. you shake your head, your lips still wrapped around his cock as you hum in reply.

"fuck-, doesn't matter though, right?" he continues to ramble, asking rhetorical questions that you can't even answer due to your mouth being occupied. "'cause mine is bigger than other cocks you've sucked before, huh?"

you can only moan and hum in response to him, his grip on your hair keeping your mouth on him. he's not forceful with you, but he's making sure you don't pull off too far. he lets out a breathy chuckle at your expression, your brows knitted together and your mouth open with his heavy cock inside it. he could really get used to this, he'll have to 'play pretend' with you more.

an unexpected gasp escapes him as your tongue swipes at his sensitive tip, licking at the precum. "oh, fuck..." he moans, his eyes screwed shut as he enjoys the warmth and wetness of your mouth around him, your tongue working more expertly than he had expected.

"you'll let me cum on your face, right?" he moans out, his free arm now thrown over his forehead as you continue to suck him off. "a good friend would let their best friend cum all over their pretty face..." he muses, his voice now becoming breathless and airy.

with how his cock is twitching and pulsating wildly in your mouth, you can tell he's inching close to cumming. you nod your head, your throat swallowing around his cock that causes him to almost let out a whine. he barely catches your nod but he doesn't care- you won't stay mad at him for too long, right? he's your best friend after all...

sunghoon's grip on your hair tightens, quickly pulling you off of him as his other hand comes down to stroke his cock, your saliva and drool providing lewd squelches to fill up the room. his hips shift, bucking and twitching up as his moans and gasps reach your ears.

he keeps your head positioned right underneath his cock as he continues to stroke it. with a particular harsh stroke, he groans into the air, his cum painting your cheeks and lower chin white, some landing onto your shirt messily.

as sunghoon catches his breath, his chest heaving up and down, he eyes you, clearly enjoying the sight of you defiled in his cum. "so can i pretend to eat you out now or...?"

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐁𝐘𝐀𝐊 ✮ FLORIAN WIRTZ

summary. it’s kind of pathetic the way the two of you always come crawling back to each other.

warnings. emotional warfare. florian is down bad. light smut but heavy feelings. florian is lowkey pathetic in this. 18+

gabri speaks! unfortunately i am a florian girlie. anyways i’m back! heavily inspired by byak by alvaro diaz ft. rauw alejandro.

THE CROWD GROANS as florian hits the crossbar for the second time that night. the camera man makes sure to zoom in on him as his hands go up in frustration. florian stares at the goalkeeper in disbelief as he runs back into his position. another missed chance, another bad rating, another night of him stressing himself out. if there was one person in all of germany that night happy about his performance it was you.

your relationship with the player was controversial, what was once a promising relationship had turned sour, and quickly. the two of you had mutually decided that a committed relationship wasn’t in the cards for either of you. it had grown toxic to the point where you’d flirt with his teammates on purpose to provoke him which worked because you’d always end up in his bed and never in a foreign room. in fact you couldn’t quite remember when was the last time you had hooked up with anyone else.

meanwhile the brunette found himself staring at his phone on the ride home. chatter and music filled the team bus yet only one thing clouded his mind, did you watch the match? he was hoping a teasing message of yours would already be in his notifications, and when he saw there’s wasn’t one he sighed. as his teammates argued over their errors and mistakes he couldn’t help opening the messages between the two of you. the countless deleted messages and hidden pictures as well as the timed ones made him remember the many nights the two of you would spend on the phone.

the sound of your voice filled his head and when he saw you were online he immediately turned off his phone. was it possible you had finally gotten tired of your messed up relationship?

“bro, are you okay?” kai asked seeing the state his teammate was in. florian’s leg was bouncing and his demeanor had changed dramatically.

“i’m fine, thanks.” he offered him a curt smile before staring out the window again.

he wasn’t fine, he was far from fine, in fact he felt worse than he did after missing the goal. he’s not sure why but as soon as the team arrives back to the hotel he’s on his way to your flat. he makes a quick stop at the chinese place the two of you like beforehand making sure he doesn’t show up empty handed. it was already pathetic enough that he was showing up past midnight he could at least make up an excuse with the food.

he hopes the black hoodie he wore is enough to hide his identity from bystanders. although with all the pacing he does outside your hallway he hopes no one thinks he’s a robber. as he adjusts his hoodie he can’t help but think, why am i so nervous? after all it’s not the first time he knocks on your door at these hours.

“do you hate me?” is the first thing you hear as you open the door.

you study his frame and notice his disheveled hair and the training kit from the national team. you’ve never seen him so disorganized and upset — if that was the right word to use — you were amused. as his face grows concerned with your lack of answer you notice the takeout he has in his hands. the poor guy was either desperate or he had lost his mind. both of which could be true.

“what the fuck florian?” you look at him weird as you question him.

“you didn’t text me today.” he says as if that simple sentence answered your question.

“so what? i don’t text you every other week and you never show up at my apartment with food. what’s going on?” you’re even more confused than before.

“you always text me after a game.” he tries to explain like it’s the most logical thing ever.

you can’t help the half scoff and half laugh you let out. he couldn’t be serious right now. was he seriously at your apartment past midnight because he was freaking out over a message?

“okay seriously you need to get a girlfriend you’re starting to creep me out.” you joke.

“you say that while you’re wearing my jersey.” he l doesn’t even need you to turn around to know that you were wearing the leverkusen jersey he had gifted you months ago.

there’s a moment of silence between the two of you it’s entrancing. you stare at him and realize he’d made his way over to you immediately after the game. all because he was waiting for your message. meanwhile there’s something about you wearing his jersey for casually that makes you all more enchanting to him. there’s a mutual look between the two of you and in the blink of an eye his hands are on your waist, yours on his jaw, and his lips are on yours.

it’s poetic really the way he closes your door as he pushes you into your apartment and drops the takeout on your coffee table in the process. your hands already digging into his hair and his hold you tight as he carried you into your room. it’s all muscle memory. the darkness of your bedroom adds to the feeling of having him so close to you again.

“i think i-” he pauses not wanting to be so vulnerable in this predicament but you know what he wants to say. you freeze.

“florian you know i can’t. it didn’t work out the first time. i can’t do it again.” you grab his jaw making sure the two of you are making eye contact. his brown eyes captivate yours.

“i can’t either but i can’t live without you.” he whispers the end. “it will always be you.”

you drag his hand towards the waistband of your shorts. it would always be him too. the only person that consumed your every thoughts and the only person you were worried about getting hurt was him. always. you look into his eyes as he drags his fingers to your core and sigh as he begins to tease you. he’s also the only man you fantasize about.

“promise?” you ask him.

the moonlight barely allows you to see him fully but you catch the smirk on his face. the same one that had captivated you years ago at the bar. his fingers are so close to your needy hole. you can’t help but audibly gasp as he inserts them inside you causing an illicit groan from him. your nails dig into his shoulders as he starts fucking you with his digits. meanwhile he kisses you from your collarbone to your neck.

“i promise.” he whispers against your ear.

he pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly helping you reach your high. it was only fair you were treated right. it was small details like this that had you wondering why the two of you couldn’t just commit to each other. you’re distracted as he leaves marks on your neck and his fingers curve inside you. you can’t help the loud moans that leave your mouth as you reach your high. your hands dig into the sheets as you come around his fingers.

he continues kissing you as he begins to take his hoodie off. you’re quick to stop him before he begins undressing himself.

“do i need to remind you that you didn’t score today? you’re not getting any tonight.” you adjust your shorts.

“so you did watch the game then.” he wraps his arms around you pulling you closer to him.

“i always do.” you whisper as you cuddle into him.

that’s how you spend the rest of the night, snuggled into his body as it rains outside. it’s quite an intimate moment shared between the two of you. you’re not quite sure if you should be worried or content with the turn your relationship with florian took. you decide it’s rather late and with the way he holds you you don’t think much more. after all he promised and while you knew florian was many things he was not an oath breaker.

[angelofsmalldeaath]

i'm starving, darling, let me put my lips to something — a.h.b.

cw: this is just...smut — semi-public sex, choking... minors dni i am so serious

“here?” i gasp, burning, panting. the rock solid wall digs into my back, exhilaration courses through my veins. 

“here,” he smiles, wicked and delightful in the faint light of the streetlamp. 

it’s a shitty alley for christ’s sake—in fact, i’m sure i saw a rat scurrying past us just a few seconds ago—but right now, in this moment when i feel his fingers trailing up my thigh, everything else simply fades away.

“do you want this?” he breathes, lips attached to my neck, shivering when i touch him. 

i nod instantly. “you? always.”

“no,” he laughs. it’s a low, deep sound that echoes around in my skull, “us, here. anyone can walk in, you know?”

“that’s half the thrill,” i tease, begging him to kiss me again. 

“yeah?” he challenges, teeth grazing my neck, just a smidge of pressure on my pulse point until it’s wild and thunderous and echoing throughout my entire body. 

i slap his chest lightly, “tease!”

and he laughs when i have to stand on the very tips of my toes and hold onto him just so i won’t lose my balance. it doesn’t take him much longer though, just when i’m about to stumble, he grabs my face, keeping me still so he can kiss me properly—the kind that knocks the breath out of my chest when he grazes my bottom lip with his teeth, the kind that has me leaning against him entirely for balance when my knees almost buck under me. 

the kind that makes me moan in his mouth, until he’s pulling my leg up, my thigh pressed against his waist and his hands under my ass. 

“when did you get so dirty, darling?” he teases, digs his fingers into my skin, and i squirm, wishing he’d get rid of all the layers between us. wishing he’d fuck me till all i remember is his name. 

till i suddenly find god in the alley behind the bar.

i grind my hips into his, gasping when i feel him against me, “saw how you looked at me in there. couldn’t stop the thoughts after that…”

“is that right?” he whispers, hands reaching into my hair until his fingers are tangled in the tresses. i hiss when the sting comes, when he tugs on my hair to tilt my face up, and i have no choice but to look right at him, at his almost-black, hungry eyes that look ready to devour me.

he looks ready to devour me, like a man starving. 

“touch me,” i whimper, grab his hand and move it up my thigh until his finger is hooked in the waistband of my underwear. he stills, and looks at me with a grin. 

“beg for it.”

“wha—”

“got a filthy mouth on you, haven’t you?” he whispers right into my ear, nips my earlobe while he’s at it and i moan just from that. “tell me your thoughts. tell me everything you thought about me in there.”

i whimper, thumb the zipper of his jeans until it’s half open. “everything?”

“everything. i won’t do it until you ask for it. until you beg for it.”

“thought about your hands,” i breathe, pull down his zipper the rest of the way and hook my fingers in his belt buckle. “saw your hand around the glass and wondered how it would look around my neck…”

“like this?” he asks, voice almost a growl, and wraps a hand around my neck. it’s warm, i feel every bit of callused skin on me, feel his fingers pressing down on the sides of my neck until the air thins. 

i choke out a yes, trying and failing to focus on his belt-buckle, utterly dizzy from everything—the lack of air, his body against mine. him.

“what else?” he prompts. 

heat coils in my belly when i think of the rest. “t-thought about your fingers too, on me, in me, everywhere.”

if he speaks, the words don’t register. they don’t even fall on my ears. all i feel is his fingers, snaking their way inside my underwear—moving, touching, teasing, anywhere but where i want to feel him. “like this?” he tsks, laughs when i whine in protest. 

“you know it’s not.”

“ooh, feisty.” 

this time when i kiss him, i make sure to bite. he hisses in my mouth, enjoying the sting a little too much, and i take advantage of his distraction. “like that,” i moan in his mouth and grab his hand, pushing a finger inside me and slipping my own finger in right after. i hold his hand in place and look him right in the eyes. 

they look pitch black, blown out wide and so dark, it sends a thrill down my spine. 

he presses on my neck again, more and more and more until i’m close to a blackout and grinding on his hand. my finger slips out of me, he instantly pushes in another to replace it, to stretch me out more. 

“please d-don’t stop,” i beg, moving my hips faster and faster, matching the thrust of his fingers, “i’ll die if you stop.”

my voice is raspy and rough, like i’ve been screaming his name for hours. and maybe i have been; he certainly looks like i have been—fucked out and utterly undone. 

“won’t” he promises, and moves his hand faster, thumb circling my clit, “you’ve been so good, darling, so fucking perfect!”

“ohgodohgodohgod,” i chant like a blind devotee, drunk on him, pathetic and desperate. 

“that’s it,” he groans when i clench around his fingers, “that’s it baby, give me all you got. look at me,” he says. no…it’s almost an order, “look at me when you cum.”

instinctually, i open my eyes, look right at him. he loosens his hold around my throat, and just like that the air is flooding into my lungs all at once—too much, too much, overwhelming until i cry out his name and cum all over his hand. 

our pants echo in my ear, barely even audible over the rushing blood. 

“fuck—” he chokes, utterly speechless. i feel no different. 

instead, when he pulls his hand out, i take a hold of it, place it in my mouth. he makes a sound at the back of his throat—a choked moan like he can’t take it anymore. the moan frees itself when i swirl my tongue around his fingers, licking every inch of them, sucking them clean. 

“you’ll be the death of me,” he groans, “fuck darling.”

only when i let go of his fingers do i smile at him—the same wicked smile he’d shown me before, the same devilish grin. 

“your turn now,” i kiss him, make sure he tastes me on my tongue. “tell me what you want. beg for it.”

and in the alley behind the bar, i get on my knees. 

a/n: idk why i feel the need to explain myself but i do — this was so much harder to write dear god, lets all collectively agree to ignore this if this is bad. anyway back to sappy fluff from now on (for a while at least)(unless inspiration strikes idfk)

[livlaughloveluke]

NSFW ALPHABET WITH LUKE CASTELLAN…

warning! this fic contains- a lot of nsfw headcannons, all varying. soft!dom!luke. afab reader.

18+ mdni !

(also keep submitting your guys nasty thoughts i love reading them lowkey & do you guys want dark luke version?)

A = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

luke’s all over you after sex, holding you in his arms and asking dozens of questions to make sure you liked it and aren’t hurting. he massages your plump skin, trying to soothe any future soreness and because he likes to touch you in a non-sexual way. unless you want it be, of course.

B = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his favorite part of himself would have to be his hands. he loves to make you writhe and squirm on his fingers, curling and pumping them inside your wet heat. it’s also so easy for him to grab and manhandle you as he pleases with the size of them.

as for you, he loves your thighs. he doesn’t care about the size or any scars, he’s just completely obsessed with squeezing the flesh. it could be while he’s sitting next to you at the bonfire or while he’s eating you out, but he is always groping them somehow.

C = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

at camp half-blood, there’s a low supply of condoms and birth control is only given out for medical reasons, so he’s usually forced to pull out. most of the time he likes to cum in your mouth, and occasionally on your tits. although, there was this one time you let him cum inside, on the promise that he bought some plan b from the dionysus kids, who snuck out into the city every so often and stole a bunch of shit.

D = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he likes to be dominated. it started one night when you felt frisky and rode him, whispering praises into his ear while bouncing carelessly. something snapped inside his brain that day, and he developed a new desire to be under your control. but he has a reputation to uphold, so it’s rare he let’s you take charge.

E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he’s definitely not inexperienced. luke’s a good looking guy, so it’s no surprise that he’s had a few girlfriends before you. he grew to be decent in bed, knowing how to get a girl off while still pleasing himself. with that being said, he still had a lot to learn while dating you. there’s no real porn in camp besides some old playboy magazines his brothers stole, so he just had to go off what he heard girls liked.

F = favorite position (this goes without saying)

luke likes to stick with the classic missionary, mainly to see your face and your tits, but also because of his lack of knowledge to other positions. if he’s had a bad day and feeling rough, he’ll try doggy, although it usually ends in him flipping you around and fucking you on your back.

G = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

typically he’s pretty serious, too busy spewing out mindless praises to crack a stupid joke. every once in a while he’ll softly laugh at something dumb, but that’s mainly him just being pussy drunk and happy at everything.

H = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

not clean shaved, but well trimmed. he’s got a little bit of a bush, but nothing dramatic or anything that would irritate your skin.

I = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he grew up treating women with uttermost respect, and thinks sex is only for real relationships. in other words, he’s not a believer in hook up culture. luke’s only interesting in fucking if there’s strings attached, mainly because there’s a strong chance of him falling in love after getting intimate with someone.

J = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

the hermes cabin is packed, so there’s not a lot of places for him to jack off. if he can’t see you and is really desperate, he’ll do it quietly and quickly in the shower, but overall, he doesn’t feel the need to that often. i mean, why use his own hand if he can use yours?

K = kink (one or more of their kinks)

he’s typically a vanilla person, besides the whole secret sub kink. unless we’re talking about post tlt dark!luke, in which case that’s a whole other story. (would you guys want a different alphabet based on that?) but anyways, he’s got a huge thing for praise. complimenting you helps him get off on it’s own, but when you turn the tables and start telling him how good he’s doing, that’s when he really starts feeling it.

L = location (favorite places to do the do)

basically any private places around, whether that be one of the empty cabins or a secluded spot in the woods. with no other alternatives, he’ll find a way to make anywhere work.

M = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

literally just you. he’s fascinated with anything you do, even something as simple as brushing your teeth or waking up all disheveled and groggy in the morning. that doesn’t mean he sees everything as sexual, but there’s nothing more of a turn on at night than you.

N = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

not really into anal, just prefers just good old p in v. if you asked he would be willing to try, but he wouldn’t never suggest it. he knows it can be really painful, and he wouldn’t want to hurt you for his own pleasure. this includes pegging, mainly because it sounds like it would hurt him.

O = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he loves loves LOVES giving head. there’s nothing hotter to him than eating you out, and sometimes you have to pull him away because he’s still going after your second orgasm. and he’s so good at it, too. he knows every every spot that makes your moan like the back of his hand.

he’s into receiving head, too. the innocent look you send up while on your knees and kitten licking the tip makes him go fucking insane.

P = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

like mentioned before, he’s a believer in intimacy. it usually includes slow and hard thrusts and him taking his time with you. although sometimes at the end, he speeds up, eagerly chasing both of your highs.

Q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

not really big on quickies, but with such a busy schedule, it tends to happen more often than not. again, he’s big on taking it steady, so a quick fuck behind the shed isn’t ideal.

R = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

if you’re cool with it, he’s most likely cool with it, or at the very least he’ll try. he’s down for some risk, as long as it’s not hurting anyone. sometimes you’ll fuck in semi-public places just for the risk of getting caught, although no where near any kids.

S = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he’s good at lasting a while, but not at multiple rounds. if you’re just going straight at it, he could last for a maybe twelve minutes, depending on the situation. but he can also make himself finish quicker if needed. as for rounds, usually it’s just one or two.

T = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

honestly, i don’t think owns any toys. it’s hard to his hands on get condoms alone, so he can’t even imagine trying to get any sort of toys. (he would find a way if you asked, though) he prefers it plain and simple, just using his body to help you climax.

U = unfair (how much they like to tease)

surprisingly, he’s always down for some teasing. nothing painfully time consuming, but just a minute of running his dick through your folds before sticking it in. although he hates when you tease him, and won’t hesitate to take what he wants if you’re acting up.

V = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he groans a little, but in most situations you two are forced to be somewhat quiet. if you’re on top, he’ll occasionally just moan and whimper.

W = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he’s gotten off untouched while eating you out before. you were in an empty cabin, eyes rolled back and letting a few hushed moans slip, and he couldn’t stop himself from cumming in his pants as you climaxed.

X = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

more length than girth, but he’s definitely got something. about 6inches, maybe 7 inches while hard?

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

decent, but not anything crazy. he’ll do as much as you like, or as little. anything to keep you happy.

Z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he’s out almost immediately once he’s checked up on you and cleaned you up. he doesn’t mean too, but how can he help it when your cradled in his arms?

[sanakimohara]

DDLG with seungmin....sounds like a god send🥰🥴

“DDLG” K.S.

Forgive me for the late response to you, love. 🖤 and of course DDLG Seungmin is going to get a spotlight. It’s only fair. 🖤

[ MDNI ]

++++++++

Dom Seungmin is a silent hard Dom. He doesn’t impose verbal control often which leads to you relying on nonverbal communication. When he pats his lap, an empty space beside him, or a perfectly vacant spot near his feet on the floor you don’t hesitate to sit/kneel. No words needed. With a tap of his fingers under your chin Seungmin instructs you to open your mouth wide for him -readying you to suck on his fingers or wrap around his cock. Every action he imposes is a way to instill mindless submission in you. He takes pride in your obedience, rubbing the top of your head lovingly when you listen without having to be told, and you welcome the praise with a tender smile. “Good pup/kitten.”

Dom Seungmin thrives off reading your expressions, can tell when you’re slipping into subspace, and attends to you accordingly. You don’t have to say anything to get his attention because it’s already drifting towards you. What kind of owner doesn’t watch over his pet at all times?… Not him. That for certain.

Dom Seungmin prefers you wear a collar/choker as a sign of his ownership. Out in public you have a charm/tag attached to it with his name engraved on one side but in private a little bell takes it place. Seungmin thoroughly enjoys the soft jingles your collar/choker makes, signaling when you’re near him, or showing off what he knows to be his. He’ll hook a finger under the dainty jewelry, using it to pull you close for a kiss, or hold your gaze when he’s speaking to you. It’s an automatic reflex he can’t seem to shake and you don’t pull away when he does. He owns you. There’s no doubt about that and the smile on your face every-time he admires his brand around your neck makes him fall in love with you all over again.

Dom Seungmin will make you walk around with a vibrator nestled in your cunt all day. You’re not allowed to remove it, touch yourself, or come without his elicit permission. It’s pure torture, a literal hell on earth for you, and um pooling in your panties and inner thighs keeps you fidgeting for hours. You text and call him non stop after the fourth time he’s edged you, wanting to cry as you beg him to stop, or at least be merciful enough to let you come. Your attempts are in vain because Seungmin amps up the intensity of the toy just to hear you swallow desperate whines, and broken whimpers purely for his entertainment. All while mocking your lack of restraint and sulky behavior. “You’ll be fine, pup. Keep it in for a few more hours and I’ll help when you get home…” “Stop? But it sounds like you’re enjoying it, sweetheart..” “What was that? I should set it higher…?” “You’re so cute when you beg, little one.”

Dom Seungmin sends you borderline threatening texts if you’re out in public together and another person so much as looks your way a little too long for his liking. He gets jealous easily and isn’t afraid to show it either. Although, you find it funny to some degree, he’s completely serious about his warnings.

^

“Get away from him.”

“Come here. Now.”

“Stop fucking with my patience, Y/n.”

“I should fuck that smile right off your face. His joke won’t be funny then will it?…”

“Don’t look so scared now, pup. You obviously wanted my attention and now you have it…”

^

Dom Seungmin doesn’t mind that you call him ‘daddy’ or ‘sir’ casually. He’s listening to you either way and prefers you call him such things in private. The one time you did slip up and asked him a question while using his title in public the smuggest smirk was plastered on his face for the entire day. “Should I get the green tea or mocha twist, daddy- ah erm….I mean s-sir….fuck, I mean- Min stop looking at me like that!” You whine while glaring at him, face on fire with embarrassment, and your heart thundering so loud you couldn’t even hear what was going on around you two anymore. He shook his head, quieting his laughter as best as possible before squeezing your hand that was intertwined with his, “The green tea sounds better, pup…”

Dom Seungmin will make you rut against his foot as a punishment. He doesn’t care if you beg to ride his thigh instead or plead for a less strenuous and humiliating reprimand. Whatever you’ve done deserves no leniency and Seungmin isn’t the type to crumble so easily under the influence of round and tearful puppy eyes. Seeing you struggle, writhing around like a bitch in heat excites him more than you realize, and he’ll make you carry on like that until he’s satisfied with the mess you make of yourself. “M’ tired,” you huff through building tears, legs on fire with pain, and your panties soaked through completely, but he makes no move to help you. “Did I tell you to stop?” His voice is low, barely bouncing off the darkened walls surrounding you two, and a shiver runs down your spine as the depth in his tone becomes evident. “No…” you reply meekly, unconsciously rolling your hips to resume your task. Seungmin grins, petting your head appreciatively, and gingerly lifting the top of his boot to press harder on your quivering cunt. You whimper at the added pressure, letting tears fall as another climax curls in your tummy, “Sir…please…n-no more….i wanna rest!” The pitch of your voice rises as the hand in your hair twists and tugs at the strands roughly, forcing your head up to look him in the eyes as he responds in an unnervingly calm whisper, “Good puppies don’t talk back to their master. When you learn that maybe I’ll let you stop. Maybe…”

Dom Seungmin allocates aftercare through discreet gestures. Drawing a bath for you, stocking up on your favorite snacks/drinks so you can indulge in a treat after, and leaving his clothes out for you to wear are common examples. He’s capable of giving you words of affirmation but firmly believes acts of service speak much louder than words. Your obedience to him is matched perfectly with his ability to provide whatever you need/want. It’s a fair transaction of effort on both parts. Seungmin never asks more of you than necessary and you don’t except him to overdo his gratitude. A wholesome midnight walk to get ice cream makes you happier than finding a dozen roses wrapped in silk. That isn’t to say he skips out on gifting you expensive rewards.

“Every pet needs a well earned treat…”

+++++++

So, I’m officially back, and I’m currently going through my inbox to answer requests. I apologize for taking so long to get to them but life is currently giving me lemons and I’m not the best at making lemonade… (that was funny so you better laugh or else…. :/ 🖤) Anyway, I hope you Min Stan’s liked this one… 🖤

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

This hairstyle on him was insanely attractive for no apparent reason. Whoever’s idea it was to style him like this during that era should get a raise, extra paid time off, and a Medal of Honor from Stay. 🖤 Credit to the creator 🖤

[masonmtxo]

Miles High

Mason Mount x OC

Summary: Needy Mason on a plane

Words: 1.7k

Note: 18+! Based off this request from @mountttmase blog. Thank you Loz for letting me steal and being the best ever 🏌🏻 this is all for you 🩷

•••

Your boyfriend had a knack for getting turned on in the most inappropriate situations. He had been needy since he had woken up, waking you with kisses before fucking himself into you, sleepily thrusting from behind until you both reached your high, Mason falling back to sleep almost instantly.

You pulled yourself from his grasp after half an hour of listening to his quiet snores, unable to get back to sleep yourself and the urge to clean up the mess between your legs and have a shower taking over. You had only been under the warm water for five minutes when Mason stumbled in, rubbing his eyes and yawning before going for a wee, grumbling a sleepy “morning” as he paused to eye up your naked body. His lack of boundaries made you roll your eyes, even more so when you heard the shower door open and felt his naked body press into yours. Within minutes he had your back against the wall, one leg hooked around his waist, the other attempting to balance yourself as he pounded himself into you for the second time that morning.

You should’ve known it would get a bit messy at some point. Mason had days where he would be relentlessly needy for you, and today was very clearly one of them. You didn’t anticipate his neediness would continue as you and his family boarded a private plane to Greece, something you had tried to convince Mason not to do, but you couldn’t help but enjoy the luxury as you were handed a glass of champagne as you sat down. It started off okay, the pair of you sat together at the back, partially hidden away from his family who had congregated at the front of the plane to play a game on uno. You had politely declined their invite to play, desperate for a nap which Mason had opted to join you for. But within a quarter of an hour you noticed something was up, he was fidgety, more so than usual, and it was driving you crazy when he knocked into your legs every few seconds as you reclined back in you chair with your eyes shut.

“Mason,” you snapped, eyes pinging open to glare at him when you couldn’t tolerate another moment of him flinging himself around, “will you sit still!”

Instantly you recognised the look in his eyes, stomach turning as you took in his flushed cheeks and dark eyes. When he spoke, his voice was uneven, “I can’t help it,” he glanced down to his lap as he whispered, “I’m so fucking horny today, my dick is rock solid and it’s hurting so bad.”

“Are you serious?” You tried to keep your volume down but you couldn’t help your exasperation, “we literally had sex twice this morning.”

“I know,” he whined, “I can’t control it.”

You were quite literally lost for words, he continued to wiggle around in his chair, before reaching for your hand and pulling it into his lap, eyes searching yours.

“If you think I’m wanking you off on a plane with your entire family on board youre sorely mistaken Mason,” your words were sharp, and your movements were even sharper as you yanked your hand from his grip.

“Baby please,” he pleaded, “it’s hurting.”

“Go to the toilet and sort yourself out then,” you shrugged, once again shutting your eyes and attempting to ignore him as he shuffled around.

After another ten minutes he let out a loud huff as you felt him get up from his seat and dart into the bathroom, your eyes slowly opening as you came to the realisation he had actually gone to the toilet to get off. The thought made you squirm slightly, but you refused to let your thoughts wander any further, particularly when Debbie made her way over after a few minutes of Mason being gone.

“Is Mase okay?” She asked gently, “I saw him run into the bathroom and he looked quite flushed?”

You tried to keep your expression impassive as you answered, desperate to make sure your facial expression didnt give him away, “he said he was feeling a bit sick, I think he got himself a bit anxious about flying,” you falsely simpered in an attempt to cover your boyfriend’s arse, literally.

“Oh my baby, I’ll go check on him,” Debbie cooed.

“Its alright Deb, I’ll go,” you reached up to carefully touch her arm, “I was about to go and find him anyway,” you lied through your teeth, panic shooting up your spine as she stepped toward the hallway to the bathroom.

“Thank you my love,” she reached for your face, cupping your cheek fondly, “I’m sure he would rather it was you than me.”

You didn’t respond, simply nodding and smiling at your mother in law sweetly. You stood to your feet and made your way into the walkway, glancing behind you to see Debbie heading back to the others at the front of the plane.

Once she was back in her seat, you knocked carefully on the door, “Mase, it’s me, open up.”

You heard a shuffle and a click, giving the door a push you quickly slipped in the narrow opening. The bathroom was exactly that, a bathroom, with a shower cubicle and much fancier amenities than you were used to on flights.

After admiring the room briefly, your eyes fell on the sorry state that was your boyfriend who was back up against the counter. He was beyond dishevelled, cheeks flaming, sweat beading on his forehead as his chest seemed to be pulsing under his t-shirt as his heart hammered. But what got your pulse racing the most was the sight of his hand, knuckles white, wrapped around his angry cock that he had carelessly pulled from the waistband of his joggers, fist still slowly pumping himself once he realised it was you at the door.

“Shit Mase,” you groaned, “I thought you’d be done. Your mum nearly came looking for you!”

“Fuck,” he whimpered, “need you baby, please.” His eyes were watering, his hand gradually picking up the pace as he pumped his length in his vice like grip, “help me.”

His breathy whines as he touched himself, staring into your eyes in a desperate attempt to silently plead with you, had you folding. Quickly stepping towards him and pulling him into the shower cubicle, shutting the door behind in hopes it may help drown out his noises. The last thing you needed was to be caught.

“What do you need baby?” You soothed, deciding now was not the time to get annoyed, the man was clearly desperate and uncomfortable, too far gone to not have some form of release. He let go of himself, his dick hitting his stomach, twitching at even the slight contact with his own skin. The view made you shiver, although determined to not get yourself in a state of no return, you couldn’t help but get turned on as you admired the familiar sight of his length.

He took your hand in his, wrapping your hand firmly around his cock, in place of his own. Instinctively you thumbed over the slit, spreading the masses of precum that were already leaking from his tip, gently playing with the head as you admired the why his eyelids dropped in pleasure, his cheeks somehow becoming impossibly more flushed.

“Baby, please,” his voice cracked, hips snapping back to encourage you to keeo going, almost on the verge of tears. You knew he wouldn’t last long in this state, a minute or two max now he was in your warm, familiar hand.

You shushed him as his whimpers become louder, letting him burrow his head into the crook of your neck to muffle the sounds. Your hand found a steady pace, one you knew was guaranteed to get him to his high as quickly as possible, your other hand slipping into his boxers to gently fondle his balls. The sounds coming from him were relentless, small cries and whines falling from his mouth uncontrollably as his hips began to snap back and forth, essentially humping himself into your fist. You were silently pleading that the shower cubicle and bathroom door were doing enough to hide the slick sounds of the continous thump of your hand on his cock.

“Shit, fuck, fuck…” his groans began to get lower, a clear indication he was moments away from release, “baby, I’m gonna…”

Your eyes widened, brain working overtime as you considered the mess if he was to release over your hand and potentially both your clothing considering how closely you were pressed together. In a flash, you dropped to your knees, yanking his joggers and boxers down below his bum as you took his cock into your mouth, sucking his tip just the way he liked as your hand continued to stroke him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he moaned, shooting ropes of cum down your throat as he finally reached his peak, the feeling of your warm mouth wrapped around him sending him over the edge.

Swallowing his load, you stood to your feet, blushing when you felt Mason’s thumb wipe under your lip at a dribble you obviously missed, “fucking hell,” he murmured, his expression finally relaxed as he slowly came around from his sex induced haze.

“I can’t believe I just let you cum in my mouth on a plane with your entire family thirty foot away,” your eyes widened in realisation, shocked at how quickly you bended to his desires when he looked so fucked out and desperate. You couldn’t help yourself, there was something about seeing him a whimpering mess, desperate for your touch that had you going into overdrive.

His lips caught yours in a searing kiss, both of you giggling at the absurdity of the situation, “you’ll be the death of me one day.”

“Likewise,” you shot back, pecking his lips again for good measure as you pulled his trousers back over his slim hips.

He opened his mouth to speak when the voice of his mother outside the door broke you from your bubble, “Mason? Y/N? Is everything okay in there?”

•••

Thank you for reading! Please leave feedback as its what encourages us all the write 🩷

[professional-yapper]

Curiosity

Aonung x Human! Reader

Summary: Aonung is curious about the sky demon that came to his village with the Sullies.

Warnings: Aonung not respecting boundaries like at all, treats reader like an object kind of, manhandling, nothing serious tbh, Spider gets ragged on repeatedly

It's late afternoon, the sun at its peak, bathing the Metkayina village in warm gold.

You were enjoying yourself thoroughly, floating on your back and letting the sun warm the parts of you that weren't submerged in cool water. Your exomask was gathering a little condensation in the heat, but not enough to disturb your relaxed state.

It had been a good day. Neytiri had been growing warmer towards you as of late, though you suspected it was mostly born of a desire to please Kiri, who felt Spider's absence sorely and had turned to you to fill the gap of her token human best friend.

A position which you didn't entirely appreciate being thrust into, as a matter of fact. Sure, you missed Spider too, and you were as close to her as you were to her other siblings, but you weren't him. You didn't want the sudden responsibility that came with being their fill-in human. You couldn't crack gross boy jokes with Lo'ak, couldn't comfort Kiri over the shared lack of parents. And you definitely didn't paint yourself blue and act totally feral.

Like you said, you liked Spider, but that was something about him you never understood.

So you were happy to have this respite, even if it were a brief one.

That is, until a shadow fell across you. A large one. You groaned at the disturbance and sudden lack of sunlight, opening your mouth to tell whoever it was to fuck off, when you found that it wasn't Loak, as you had expected, standing on the platform above you, but the son of the Metkayina chief. Onung or something.

"Can I help you?" you asked, trying your best not to sound too irritable. After all, his family was hosting you and the Sullies. He was a dick, but it wouldn't do anyone any good if you mouthed off at him. Not that the desire wasn't there.

"Do you have to wear that mask all the time? I've never seen you take it off," he commented, ignoring your question as he lowered his bulk into a crouch, tail swishing across the ground behind him as he looked at you with genuine curiosity on his face.

You squinted at him, shifting onto your front and treading water as you did so. "I can't breathe your air," you replied bluntly, then, unable to resist, added an "idiot" after for good measure.

He scowled briefly, ears flicking backwards.

You huffed out a laugh, rather pleased with yourself for managing to get under his skin. "Now, is that all? Because I'm trying to enjoy the sun, and- hey! Hey!"

You cut yourself off as his large hands hooked under your armpits, lifting you clear of the water. "What are you doing, dickhead?!" you snapped indignantly, trying to pry his hands off you, kicking at his arms. "Put me down!"

It was his turn to ignore you now, instead carefully adjusting himself to sit on the edge of the platform, legs dangling above the water.

He lowered you onto his lap, and you briefly considered stomping on his dick once you found your feet on his broad thighs, but settled for folding your arms and glaring at him. He shifted his hands to your middle, presumably to keep you from falling or jumping off, and continued to stare at you.

Your cheeks grew hot almost immediately. You felt beyond exposed as he observed you, standing there on his thighs with his hands on your body, only in your damn bikini. He was just looking at first, but then began to touch you, taking your arm between his forefinger and thumb and holding it out- as much as you tried to fight it, you were simply no match for this big blue idiot's child-like curiosity in your alien form.

And it wasn't like he was unattractive. It was just that he was Metkayina royalty or something, and dumb as a rock, and you weren't Spider and you didn't have a massive boner for every Na'vi under the sun.

So maybe you were a little bitter towards the idea of human/Na'vi romance. After all, you were the unlucky bastard who'd had to sit through Spider's long talks about his various crushes. It had started with Neteyam, mature and kind and confident and altogether a pretty good crush for a young human boy like Spider. Then it had been fiery, playful Lo'ak, then dreamy Kiri, and at one horrible point you remember it being Jake. Yeah, Spider went through the Sullies like he had a to-do list.

You were nothing like that. You'd never had a crush on a Na'vi in your life.

And you weren't about to start now, even if his eyes roving over every inch of you with genuine interest made you squirm and flush.

"Do you mind?!" you said waspishly, finally getting fed up with his intense scrutiny as his hand travelled down your leg, dwarfed in his massive palm as he tried to examine the limb in question.

"Not at all," Onung or whatever his name was replied, grinning at you, teeth flashing. Jesus, they were sharp.

"Look, Onung, you can't just-" you began indignantly before he interrupted.

"Aonung. My name is Aonung," he corrected.

"Aonung," you repeated back to him, rolling your eyes. "You can't just-"

"You're not saying it right," he pouted like a little kid. Did he honestly think you cared how his name was pronounced?!

"Shut up and let me speak!" you snapped, hand lashing out and grabbing him by the ear, making him yelp as you dragged his big head towards you. "Listen, you big blue jackass, you can't just pick people up and start examining them like that! I didn't consent to it!"

"Let me go," he hissed at you, fangs inches from your face.

You stared right down his throat, unafraid. "You let me go. I'm not a toy you can fuck around with."

"Fine," he huffed, his tail thumping behind him irritably as you released his ear and he set you down beside him.

You stood for a moment, the seaspray-wet platform cooler on your feet than his thighs had been, and resisting the urge to shrink into yourself as the wind hit the place where his hand had sat around your middle.

He kept sitting there, looking rather like a kid that had been sent to time out, frowning, ears flat against his head and tail still twitching.

"Why did you wanna look at me, anyway?" you asked abruptly, looking at him. "You seemed pretty set on drop kicking me into the ocean when I first came here."

His ears drooped even further and he didn't look at you. "Cause," he grumbled.

"Cause why?" you persisted, reaching out and pushing at his broad shoulder, feeling a little braver now you were no longer at his mercy.

He glanced at your hand, then at you, a weird expression on his face that you didn't feel like unpacking.

You withdrew your hand. "Sorry."

"It's fine," he grunted, then heaved a sigh. Your eyes followed his chest as it rose and fell absentmindedly, before you caught yourself and gave yourself a firm mental telling off for checking out the big blue guy who'd just handled you like you were an object.

Not that you'd hated it. It was just... unexpected.

"You can look at me if you're that curious," you relented. "You just had to ask first. I get that you'd be curious but-"

"I didn't think you'd mind," he muttered.

"Didn't think I'd mind? When a guy twice my height literally snatched me out of the water and started handling me like an object? Aonung," you say severely.

"You're still saying it wrong."

You roll your eyes so hard it hurts for a second. "That's the best I can do."

"No, it's not."

"Oh, yeah, since you've got your degree and know every fucking thing."

"I don't know what a degree is," he pointed out, looking at you steadily.

You huff and glance around, then back at him. "Teach me, then. If it's such a big deal. Teach me how to say your name."

He just scoffed at you and looked away.

Okay. Rude, considering he'd been bitching about it nonstop.

You took the initiative and climbed back into his lap to make him look at you, gripping his shoulder tightly for balance as you stepped back onto his thighs. Thankfully of your own volition this time.

"What are you doing?" he asked, sounding mildly irritated, his hand cupping your hip instinctively to steady you.

"I said teach me," you repeated firmly, poking him in the chin. "I'm sick of you nagging me about it."

"I've only said it twice," he huffed.

"I've only said your name twice," you countered.

You stared at each other for a long moment. His hand was warm, gentle on your hip, and you still had your hand on his shoulder, his skin sun-warm and slightly gritty with sea salt and sand. Okay, so maybe you were kind of attracted to this one Na'vi specifically.

He sighed, looking away from you, then back at you, adjusting himself to be more comfortable, leaning back on his other hand. "Aonung," he said clearly. "Ow-noong."

You made a rather feeble attempt at imitating the sounds. You were used to the more blunt names of the Omaticaya, but the embarrassment of not getting it right was killing you a little inside.

He chuckled, thighs shifting under your feet a little, making you wobble and glare at him.

It takes you a few more attempts and much laughter from him, but you get it, or as close as you think you'll get.

"I think that's about as close as we're gonna get," Aonung said finally, voice warm with amusement as he looked at you.

You blushed despite yourself. Eywa, what was happening to you? This wasn't like you at all.

He was still gazing at you, and you realised his thumb was rubbing lazy circles into your hip.

You sighed deeply.

"Something on your mind?" he prompted.

"You're more tolerable than I expected."

A grin spread across his face as he tilted his head, ears tilting forward. "Should I be flattered?"

You just shrugged, smiling back a little.

"Well," he continued, shifting once more beneath you, heaving a sigh of his own. "I guess you'll be pleased to know I find you tolerable too."

"Well, isn't that convenient?" you snickered. "The human and the Metkayina's precious little prince-"

"Ah, shut up," he murmured, sitting a little more upright, bringing his face close to yours, before he stopped himself.

You didn't dare to move. "And what are you up to?" you whispered.

"Nothing." He smiled, slow and lazy, still rubbing soothing circles into your hip, tail beginning to thump again behind him.

Then he moved his hand to your mask, still watching your face. "Take a deep breath for me," he hummed.

You did so as your heart began to thump insistently against your ribs, hoping- no, praying that he was about to do what you thought he was going to do.

He lifted your mask off gently, and leaned forward, covering your mouth with his.

Like everything else about him, his lips were warm, firm, tasting of sea salt and some Metkayina herb, the name of which escaped you.

You sighed contentedly into his mouth, looping your arms around his neck as best you could, leaning your body against his chest.

You wanted this to drag on forever. There was no great realisation, either, beyond the simple oh. I have a crush on Aonung. No desperation in this.

It was just nice, to be here, standing on his thighs, kissing him slowly and peacefully while the brisk sea breeze enveloped you both.

He eventually pulled away and replaced your mask, looking down at you with a serene, content expression, tracing his fingers down the glass.

You couldn't help smiling, cheeks flushed as you shifted your hands to his shoulders.

"That was nice," he commented, trying to hold back a grin. "We should do it again sometime."

You laughed a little breathlessly. "Definitely."

His laughter mingled with yours, his chest vibrating a little as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the glass of your mask above your forehead. "I'll hold you to that."

I love dumb hunk himbo Aonung can y'all tell

[zweiginator]

okay, so we all know that patrick zweig is a v unserious person. however!! he’s never more serious when it comes to fucking. so it starts to irritate patrick when reader doesn’t take his offers for a great fuck seriously. she just snorts, rolls her eyes, and goes “okay patrick” and moves on. it grinds his gears. you’re friends. you like each other. it’s not like you’re outright rejecting him, you just don’t think that he actually wants to fuck you (note: he does). one day it comes to a head when patrick comes on to you again, offering to eat you out. once again, you giggle and go “sUrE PatRICk, yoU’rE gOnNa eAt mE oUT!!1!” and he just grabs the back of your neck and kisses the life out of you. do you believe him now?

you always complaining about your sex life being more than subpar. always talking up a storm to patrick about the asshole guy you hook up with or go on dates with and how they are self-indulgent pricks who only care about getting themselves off and don't worry for a second about your own pleasure.

and patrick's response is always the same thing. along the lines of, well i'm always here if you need me. but he says it with that smug, flirty tone of his. not in the way where you would mistake his promise to mean something else.

but you always just pat him on the back.

"yeah, thanks pat. sure."

because you in no way, shape or form actually believe he would ever want to jeopardize your friendship with each other with a cheap fuck. and all guys say the same thing. all guys advertise themselves as a great fuck, a master of women's pleasure. it always falls apart when the time actually comes to put their money where their mouth is.

but you don't know that patrick wants you. he doesn't understand why you hook up with unattractive sleazy guys when he's right there, throwing himself at you. is he really that bad?

and one day, you're complaining --yet again--about your love life. or really the lack thereof. how you went on a horrible date and the guy forgot his wallet so you had to pay and you're sure he did it on purpose. but then he promised to make it better and to eat you out. you explain to patrick that it hurt. somehow, his mouth on your pussy hurt.

"let me eat you out." he says it so nonchalantly. another offer.

you roll your eyes. "stop saying stuff like that."

"saying stuff like what?" patrick runs a hand through his hair.

"you know what i'm talking about. the sexual offers just to be nice or whatever."

"just to be nice?" patrick yanks you in by your shirt. "i'm dead serious. why won't you let me fuck you?"

you feel like the wind is knocked out of you. your voice cracks. and you're not sure why you've been shoving all his offers away like you're subconsciously worried that fucking patrick will change your perspective on him. obviously, it would. but maybe you've been afraid you would fall in love with him, because honestly, you had already been on the brink of it for years. one kiss could alter your friendship into a toxic obsession. but would that be so bad?

sure it would--but the way patrick is silent, his lips parted and head tilted as he awaits your answer--but right now you're not thinking straight. and patrick's body looks impeccable in his shorts he wore to tennis practice and a grey t-shirt that hugs his arms a little too tight.

he speaks up again. "let me eat you out. i know you want it. i know you." his hand reaches up to caress your lip and you press a kiss to the calloused pad of his finger and it's all fucked now. there's no going back because patrick is pushing you back on the couch. you hope he isn't lying about his skills because you really don't want to fake an orgasm to make him feel better--your panties get pulled to the side.

your chest heaves and patrick looks up at you and smiles. your stomach flips. he pushes your legs back and spreads your pussy with his fingers and spits on you. it feels lewd and dirty but you like it; patrick can tell by how you yank on his hair, pulling him into your cunt.

"now look who's fuckin' begging for it." he presses a kiss to your clit.

this friendship is fucked.

[joelsgoldrush]

come back same time and place the next night

prologue / 3k words

pairing: dad's coworker!joel miller x f!reader

raiting: 18+ (minors dni)

series summary: your chances of hooking up with your dad’s soon-to-be coworker are low, but never zero. turns out the two of you have a lot more in common than you thought, especially when you find out he’s going to be staying at your house for a while. you know what they say: if you can’t beat them, fuck them.

series warnings: no outbreak AU, dad's coworker!joel (idk if that's a thing but yeah), lots of feelings (angst/fluff), age gap (reader is 23, joel is 50), no use of y/n, i'm not good at choosing names for side characters sorry for that, some chapters will include smut 18+ and i'll let you know at the beggining of each part

warnings for this chapter: soft!dom joel, oral (m receiving), dirty talk

A/N: HELLO AGAIN i'm back with a new series!!! first of all, i just wanted to say THANK YOU bc of all the love you gave my previous post. i'm so thankful for all the likes, reblogs and comments, you truly made me feel incredibly happy. tbh i used to have a hard time figuring out whether i should start posting my own creations or not, and the support you showed me made me realize that it was definitely the right call. so yeah tysm for that and i hope you also enjoy this new project of mine :) i juIt have one final left and then i'll have a couple of weeks to relax and work on this series! also english isn’t my first language so if you come across any mistake please tell me!

here's my masterlist in case you want to read my other works :)

“Sneaking out of my house / I must be out of my mind / I’m running out of excuses / We’re running out of time / You say the love will come and go / We’ll learn how to ride the ebb and flow / You’ll always leave before the light / Come back same time and place the next night.”

You take another sip of your drink, alcohol making its way through your throat. It leaves a trail of burning kisses down the inside of your esophagus, and you make an effort not to swear as the sensation settles heavily on your chest.

Stacy looks around the bar for a while, her knee impacting rhythmically against yours ever so slightly. Next thing you know, she’s snorting, her blonde hair falling like cascades over her collarbones. “I'm afraid you, my dearest friend, have lost your good judgement. There isn’t a single hot guy in this bar.”

“That’s not true,” your fingers pinch the pink straw floating on your glass, a lipstick stain adorning it. You’re not exactly sure, though. The truth is you aren’t looking for somebody tonight, at least not right now. “Give me a second.”

Scanning your surroundings, you try to concentrate on your quest: finding a new hobby for Stacy. And by hobby, you mean a man she can simp over for the rest of the night. Once you’ve examined the room multiple times without success, you feel… slightly disappointed. 

Just when you’re about to agree with her, this pretty waiter comes on the scene, placing a martini under your friend’s nose. “Here it is. Hope you enjoy it.” 

Oh.

Stacy giggles at him. It’s that specific kind of giggle you know very well. “Thank you, but I didn’t order this.”

“Don’t worry. This one’s on me,” the hot-waiter answers, giving her a smile that’s all white teeth before disappearing between the mess of sweaty bodies on the dancing floor. 

You look at her, because you already know what she will do next. She wiggles her eyebrows in your direction and takes hold of her purse, not without previously drinking almost half of the cocktail she got for free. 

Her forehead furrows in a funny way. “It’s not very good. He’s lucky he’s cute.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” you tell her, ignoring her words. “I’m being serious.”

She leaves and you’re left alone, though you don’t mind the lack of company. The beating of your heart seems to sync with the pounding music from the pub. There’s this one girl doing karaoke, but nobody seems to be actually listening to her. You wonder if she’s aware of it, although she appears not to, because her tone gets even more high-pitched every time she gets to the chorus of the song.

After some minutes, you decide to give Stacy’s drink a try. She wasn’t wrong: the taste of it is absolutely awful. Some muscle in your jaw twitches as you cough a little.

“Is it that bad?” 

You turn to your side, looking for the owner of that unknown voice that startled you. A man stands beside you, pointing out the martini. Leaning in closer to him, you hand him the drink. “Why don’t you try it yourself?”

His cold fingers brush yours gently when he takes the glass into his hands. The straw vanishes between his lips momentarily, and then he proceeds to chuckle. “You’re right. It’s… definitely somethin’ else.”

This must be your lucky night. When was the last time a guy this good-looking approached you? He jerks his thumb toward the empty chair in front of you. “Are you waitin’ for someone?”

You can't help but smile. “Not anymore.” 

The attractive, charming stranger sits down, and you seize the opportunity to take a closer look at his face. You’re not sure of his age, but he’s older than you. He seems to be in his early 40s, the hair on his beard starting to get a bit gray. It’s subtle. If you weren’t such a perfectionist, perhaps you wouldn’t have seen it. But you did, and if possible, it just makes him come across as even more appealing to you.

“If you don’t mind me askin’, why did you order that drink?”

“Well, I didn’t. It was a gift for my friend,” you rest your chin on your palm, giving a half shrug. “She’s with the guy that gave it to her. The blonde girl over there, with the white tank top? That’s her.”

His eyes follow your gaze, finding Stacy just a couple of meters away from where the two of you were talking. She raises one of her hands in greeting, the boy from before attached to her hip like a lost puppy in the middle of the road.

“She seems nice,” he murmurs once he focuses his attention on you again. 

“Yeah, she is,” as you finish that sentence, you feel your phone vibrating in the pocket of your jacket. “Excuse me.”

It’s a text from Stacy. Said message reads: 

whose dad is that??? he’s hot af

You laugh at her occurrence, and he tugs at his shirt collar. “What happened?”

“She texted me: whose dad is that?” staring at him, you lift an eyebrow. “Do you have any children I should know of?”

The stranger seems to hesitate before replying. “No, I don’t,” you watch him lick his lips. “Why? You’re not into dads?”

He's cocky. Good thing you like cocky.

Time flies. You learn some things about him: he’s from Texas (the southern accent gives him away) and works as a contractor (just like your dad, you think, which is funny.) When he reveals how old he is, he seems to look for any sign of discomfort on your features. “I’m forty-five.”

“Twenty-three,” you retort with your own age. He glances up to the ceiling, and you give a bitter laugh. “Is it a problem for you?’”

“Shouldn’t I be the one askin’ that to you?”

You flutter your eyelashes at him. “I don’t mind.” If anything, you like him more. However, there’s one mystery left to bring to light. “What I do mind is that we’ve been here for almost an hour and you still haven’t told me your name.”

He leans back in his chair. “Let's play a game.”

“Be careful. I’m really competitive.”

“You have three chances to guess my name. I’ll just give you my initial. You gotta do the rest, deal?”

What were the odds of guessing it? I should take the risk, you think as you find yourself already nodding your head. “Deal.”

“It starts with the letter J.”

“Jack,” it’s the first name that comes to your mind. For an instant, you believe you’ve won, but then you catch him smirking. “It’s not Jack, isn´t it?"

The corner of his mouth turns up. “Keep tryin’.”

“Josh?”

“Ice cold.”

“Joe?”

Something you're unable to even distinguish glows in his eyes. “I’m givin’ you one more chance.”

“So I’m close?” you ask him, probably too enthusiastic. He doesn’t say anything else, so you go on. “Is it Joel?”

He places a hand on top of his shirt where his heart is, pretending to act relieved. “Fuckin’ finally.”

You punch your fists into the air. “Yes! I knew I was gonna get it.” A sincere smile takes place on your face. “What’s my prize?”

“Well,” he inches forward, his pinky nudging your wrist, that mere touch giving you goosebumps. “You could give me your number and go on a proper date with me.”

God knows you want it. Rising from your seat, you tuck a lock of brown hair behind his ear. “I was thinking of something else.”

That’s how you end up in the ladies restroom, your back flushed against the wooden door as Joel presses his clothed knee between your legs. You moan into his mouth without thinking if there are any other people outside waiting to use the bathroom. Joel draws in a long breath, grinning as he takes in the sight of you. “You wanna put on a show for the others? I'm not one to judge."

“I want to suck you off,” your hand is dangerously close to his crotch, your nails ghosting over his zipper. He seems to be having an internal fight with the last brain cell he has left, but then he detaches himself from you, unzipping his jeans. The sound of his belt hitting the floor with a thud is what finally leads you to fall to your knees.

He’s big. You can tell his size from your position, a wet patch forming into the fabric of his boxers. Playing with the waistband of his boxers for a mere second, your self-control attempts to falter. You grab him by the base, stroking it experimentally. Joel fights back a groan, urging you to take him. “Come on, sweetheart. I don’t like t’beg.”

But you do, that’s the thing. “Please,” you whisper, hoping he’ll hear you. His eyes find yours and suddenly it clicks. A lightbulb goes on in his head. He curses under his breath, directing his dick towards your open parted lips, and your eyelids get heavy as the taste of his precum invades your tastebuds.

It’s not your fault he has an amazing dick.

You begin to bob your head, taking more and more of his length with every one of your short movements. Slick must be already staining your own panties, but you can’t get yourself to care about that insignificant detail. Not now, when Joel’s hips thrust deeper into your mouth, his tip brushing the back of your throat and making you gag. It's dirty, and you should probably be ashamed of getting caught by a bystander. All your worries are swept away from your mind the moment he decides not to keep quiet. “Fuck, baby. Knew you would put that gorgeous mouth to good use. Attagirl, takin’ me so well.”

A stupid whine gets lost somewhere in your vocal tract. Intertwining your fingers with his, you locate his wandering hands on your hair, wishing he'll take the hint. He does, and grabs a handful of it, pulling you off his cock. 

“You really like this, don’t ya’?” Joel smears your lower lip with your spit. “Were you thinkin’ about this while we were talkin’ back there?”

“Y-yes,” you try to take him in your mouth again, but he doesn’t allow you to, his iron grip on your nape getting tighter the more you fight against it.

Then he lets you have it. “Bet you get off on this too,” his voice drops an octave, and it sounds so nasty and intimate you’re on the verge of crying. With teary eyes, you swallow around his length. 

You lose track of time. His bare thighs tremble and the only noise you can hear is his heavy breathing. “F—fuck. I’m close, where do you want it?” Mumbling something you can’t even comprehend with his cock still in your mouth, his thrusts begin to lose finesse, thick fingers holding you where he needs you the most. “So good, baby. Lettin’ me have you like this. Fuckin’—“

He’s about to come.

“—good girl.”

It all happens so fast you have to remind yourself to gulp down his cum, hot and sticky and just Joel’s. You patiently wait for him to come down from his high, nuzzling his happy trail. He helps you stand up, kissing you and tasting himself on your tongue. As soon as he tries to sneak a hand into your panties, getting closer to your aching cunt, you recognize your phone ringing in the distance.

Groaning, you stretch your arm, answering the call. “Hello?”

“Well, hi. This is awkward.”

You frown. Joel mimics you. “I’m sorry, who’s this?”

“I’m calling you from Stacy’s phone. We were making out and then she told me she was feeling sick, so I took her outside… and now she’s throwing up,” the boy on the other side of the line explains to you and you detect a hint of agitation in his voice. “She asked me to contact you.”

“Oh, God. Hot-waiter?”

“Yeah, she also said you were probably going to call me that,” he seems to move his phone away from his ear, and then talks to you again. “She’s not passed out, but she shouldn’t stay here.”

Does he actually think you’re going to leave her alone? “Can you tell me where you are?” you suggest him while Joel tucks himself back into his boxers.

“Next to the parking lot.”

You hang up after telling him you’ll be there in five minutes, and you feel Joel’s lips on your neck, a sigh spilling from you. His teeth nip at your sensitive skin. “You gotta go?”

Humming, you smooth down your skirt, facing the mirror and observing your reflection, some leftover mascara sticking your eyelashes together. He appears right behind you, his broad frame becoming more visible this way. “Stacy’s throwing up. I have to take her home.”

“Do you have a car?” 

“No, but I’ll call an uber. It’s no big deal.”

Joel puts his hands on his hips. “I brought my truck. Let me help you.”

Of course he has a truck. 

“Joel, you don’t have to,” you massage the back of your neck, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. 

“It’s the least I can do,” tilting his head, his lips catch yours once again. “Consider it my way of thankin’ you, since I cannot return the favor.”

It shouldn’t feel like this. You weren’t used to doing this kind of thing on a regular basis, but you’re more than sure that men don’t treat you this way after sucking them off. Still, you accept his offer since it means you’ll get to spend more time with him.

He walks you out and helps you get Stacy on her feet. As she sees Joel, she spreads her arms wide, hugging him. “Oh my God! It’s the hot dad!”

“Sweetie, you have like— puke all over your clothes,” you tell her, so Stacy chooses to hug you instead. “She gets pretty sensitive when she’s drunk.”

“I can tell,” Joel opens the back door of his truck, jerking his head in the direction of it. “Get her inside while I start the car.”

It all goes pretty well from then on. He asks you for Stacy’s address and you give it to him, the palm of his hand resting on top of your left thigh. Stacy gets comfortable in the back seat, yawning. “You two look like my parents before they got divorced.”

“That’s a really nice compliment,” you mutter with irony as Joel laughs by your side, rubbing his chin.

Soon after that, she falls asleep. Joel parks his car right in front of Stacy’s porsche. He glances over his shoulder, making sure she’s still sleeping before his seatbelt’s off and he’s grabbing you by the jaw, leaning in for a kiss. The fucker’s a very good kisser, you notice throughout the night.

“Are you gonna give me your number?” he murmurs against your mouth, his hot breath mixing with yours. 

“It depends. Will you call me?”

He tells you he will, and you prefer to trust him as you watch him save your number, a smiley face next to your name.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Joel doesn’t call you.

You don’t want to admit it, but it’s starting to get to you. He did sound honest. Why the hell did he treat you like that if he wasn’t planning on calling you? Why did he insist so much on getting your number?

Men suck. Joel sucks, you decide after a whole afternoon of staring at your phone, waiting to receive a text from him. Given the situation, anything would make you feel better.

Hey! It’s Joel, from the bar. I’m so sorry for not calling you. I forgot to tell you I’m married and have three children, two cute little puppies and a cat. Anyways, what a great night we had! Take care!

Okay. Perhaps not anything.

You’re home, sitting on the couch while you watch a meaningless TV programme. It consists of answering random questions, and if you get them wrong, you fall down some dark tunnel that only God knows where it takes you.

Normally, during a night like this, you’d be studying or perhaps at Stacy’s. But tonight, your father had asked you to actually stay. He didn’t tell you why he specifically needed you there, and you didn’t bother to ask him.

Out of the blue, you hear the doorbell ring. None of your parents seem to be on the first floor, so you walk to the door, opening it. 

You choke on your own saliva.

Joel’s here. Joel, who didn’t call you. Joel, who looks absolutely good with his hair slicked back. 

“Did I ever tell you where I lived?” the tone of your voice falters, your legs suddenly feeling wobbly.

He can’t believe it either. “No. I must have the wrong address,” keeping his eyes fixated on the box of chocolates dangling from his hand, he straightens his back. “What are you doin’ here?”

“I should be asking you that,” you hiss, your pupils flared with anger. “Why the fuck are you at my house, with a freaking box of chocolates, when you couldn’t bring yourself to call me?”

Then, you hear the sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen. It’s your dad. He contemplates the scene with a smile. “I see you’ve met my daughter. Trust me, my wife and I taught her better manners than this. Don’t know why she didn’t invite you in. Food’s almost ready!”

You’re about to short-circuit. Definitely not a joke.

“Sweetheart, this is Joel Miller. Remember I told you last week that someone from the company was coming over for a while? Well, this is him,” your father chuckles, expecting you to come up any kind of answer.

Joel’s faster than you, intending to shake your hand, those same calloused fingers that he had used to touch you in that dirty bathroom now playing dumb. “Nice to meet you.”

If he wants to pretend you don’t know each other, then so be it.

You squeeze his hand without measuring your strength. “Oh, the pleasure’s all mine, sir.”

Turns out that your chances of hooking up with your dad’s soon-to-be coworker were low, but never zero. 

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

tags: @spurz :)

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Smutty Kol mikaelson headcanons?

mmm smutty kol… i need to get back into the swing of writing for him!

okay. i have so many WIPs where he's more dominant, but have only posted one smut of him and he's submissive in that one. that being said, i can see him going both ways.

also, in general, idk why i started doing my hcs like this, but i can switch them back to the other format if preferred

tw: cnc / dub / non section; minor noncon mentioned

he's definitely experienced & mostly dominant

he's been alive since the dawn of time

he's an original vampire & whether or not he reveals that status, he will embody it by being the more dominant one in the relationship / situationship

and as charming & flirtatious as he is, it's safe to say he's got a lot of experience under his belt (HA - accidental pun)

that is to say, though, he's probably never been super serious about any of his flings

until, ofc, he meets the one that he absolutely falls for, and none of those hookups matter + he's lost interest in anyone else

1920s - little subsection for if you met him in this decade

okay so i read about this thing that happened in the 1920s called "petting parties," where PDA and sex weren't really acceptable, so people would have these orgy-type things centered around heavy petting and i can see that as SUCH a kol thing

i was actually going to write something based on that idea but need to do more research on it first

but kol would be so engaged with something scandalous (for the time) like that

he'd have girls worshipping him for the way he touches them; for the feel of his fingertips against their skin; the way he undresses them with his eyes, both parties wishing they could strip themselves of the last layer of separating fabric

he'd get into so much trouble in the 20s for this kind of stuff

flirting with other men's women, making crude hand gestures under tables to turn them on

he knows how to lay on the charm and fit in with the 20s, but he has the sexual appetite and style of a modern man

ofc, those words being nothing negative, but instead just him knowing how to be rough and how to please

modern day

likes the vulgarity & speed of modern sex

likes that he can strip a girl of her clothes and pin her to the wall and she welcomes it

likes that there aren't a thousand eyes watching his every move; likes the freedom & lack of rules nowadays

he wasn't around for the sexual revolution of the 80s (thanks, klaus 😞), but he would've relished it

all the young women looking to finally express themselves sexually; him giving them the best first experience he could deliver

despite all that, though, he loves the tender, loving sex of being with someone he knows, once in a while

he appreciates it more once he gets into a stable relationship, but sometimes his menial hook-ups were on the gentle side, too

modern day in an established relationship

rougher by nature, but can certainly be sweet, and often is

slow & passionate, kissing all over - forehead, neck, down your stomach, chest

roughness or gentleness depends on his mood

depends on your mood, too, because he cares & won't ever push you into something

respects boundaries if you say no

he maybe wasn't always like that, but when he started running with witches, he learned a specific respect & appreciation for others, especially women & those he'd sleep with

so, when he wants to have a long-term relationship with you, he really puts in the effort to be the best he can be

he wants you to know he loves you and shows it

kinks

so i read a fic about this, and i can see it fitting him 100% - some kind of predator / prey; hunting / hunted type dynamic, where he stalks & hunts you & then when he finally catches you off guard, fucks the daylights outta you up against a tree

very much a kol thing

throw a knife in the mix, too

you're pinned to a tree with a knife at your throat and his fingers are underneath your clothes, pleasuring you out of sight

bonus points if it's at night. or, if he hunted you all day and finally caught you at night. by now, he's extremely hungry

speaking of hunger, let's not forget about feeding

he definitely fed on most of the girls he railed in one night stands, but if it were a person he loved, he wouldn't feed until he knew he had enough control to not hurt them

the most intimate situation he can imagine is slow, passionate sex with blood sharing at the end

him drinking from you, then healing you back with his blood, or a mutual feeding if you're a vampire, too

first time with him with someone who just turned, he'd be very gentle, knowing how difficult the transition is

giving into every single need, including offering his own vein when the blackness starts to form under your eyes

i'm not sure kol would be into exhibitionism, but pda and public flirting, certainly

flirting across the bar at the grill, beckoning you closer with his eyes, then (mostly tasteful) jokes once you sit next to him

even when you're dating, flirts like you're strangers and he's still trying for your attention, just for the thrill

though places that are kinda hidden but kinda public, he loves to take you into those for a quick time ;)

bathroom stalls, dressing rooms, janitor closets, the whole lot

also... shower sex

he'd think it'd be a great idea even if you're skeptical

but you agree & it's ofc, a disaster, bc it never actually works out like it does in tv

but you make it fun anyway & he has a very strong hand on you to keep you from slipping

now, klaus' room, i think, he'd love to take you in there as a "fuck you" to his brother after a fight

an orgy type of guy, i think, as long as you're consenting of it

and then gives you all his love & attention afterwards when you get jealous of one person in particular

makes up with gifts & a very long night in the bedroom, with lots of aftercare

witch!kol would 100% tease you in public

it's over for you once he discovers vibrating panties

sometimes gets turned on by you at the worst possible times

you stand up to him against one of his brothers? yes

you fight off an enemy all by yourself? yes

even if you're joking around and fit a whole doughnut in your mouth or something, he's dtf

and his response to your shock is always along the lines of, "i can't control it!"

if he's in a submissive mood

is submissive at times, and some times, needs you to be more dominant

especially when esther is around

i can see kol having mommy issues & needing that reassurance

but it would take a certain level of trust for him to be comfortable telling you that

at first, you were surprised at how submissive he got, but then you were happy to provide what he needed

he's very appreciative of your comfort & lack of judgement when he gets in that type of headspace & makes sure to shower you in thanks & kisses when he "wakes up" from it

tw: cnc / dub / non

can't see him being into this, especially in a relationship

except for the desire to hunt you, i don't think he'd be into it straight up

as previously mentioned, pre-witch hanging-out, he might've had a few incidents that were a little questionable, but he's straightened out & learns that those incidents were wrong & does not repeat them

his biggest offense in one of those situations was probably nonconsensual blood drinking that turned him on

was still kind of a baby, psycho vampire when it happened, & he probably still regrets it to this day

dubcon, though, where you're both drunk after a night of bar flirting, he's into

like, if you were used as a distraction for him when caroline was used to distract klaus

you're both drinking way too much and one thing leads to another and then you find yourself in the mikaelson mansion in the morning like 🤷‍♂️

he makes sure you don't regret it, though, and you don't

calms his worried little not-beating heart

somnophilia, given explicit consent beforehand, he would like

the prospect of you waking up full of him, or with him delivering pleasure via tongue or fingers

you wake up and the first thing you feel is pleasure brought on by him - he loves that concept